Ann-alog, a Pixel Remix, where Ann Torrence blogs about photographing for a book on U.S. Highway 89, the greatest road trip route in America. Photography tips, locations, trip reports, and real life.

1620 pounds of paper

And safely under cover behind the palace gates.

Andy

And how could Andy not leave with a copy? The run to Phoenix on Highway 89 is one of his favorite roads too.

Now to put on my shipping clerk uniform. Orders are shipping today. Get your copy here

Reflection in Capitol Reef National Park

Busy! We have generally turned our lives upside down:

1. Arranged to refinance the palace to pay for a lot we bought in Torrey, UT near Capitol Reef National Park. I still can't believe that we ended up in a community not on Highway 89, but having looked almost as long as I drove that highway for the project, and considering the compromises to maintain marital harmony, this is what works for us. It's bare land with excellent water rights, and we are very excited to make this step. The next steps aren't so clear, but we should have title in a couple of weeks.
2. Had a party to show off the proofs. Bryan made some pictures. I was too busy enjoying myself. The first box of books actually arrived the day before, and we put a couple out as a surprise. I am getting over the awkward feeling of watching someone look through it.
3. Sold my first book. I said the first box was for reviewers, and I have been sending them out to various folks. But I got an email before Thanksgiving from someone who said that the only thing her mom wanted for her birthday was a copy of my book. Near as I can figure, I met her at the Sanpete Cowboy Expo. I had just been telling someone about how glad I was that the project had brought me to Phoenix to spend more time with my mom. In a sentimental moment toward moms in general, I couldn't say no.
4. Signed my first book. That isn't going to get old for a while. My brother-in-law had the best idea, though, I somehow found myself on the guest list of the Governor's Art Awards ceremony at the mansion last week. So I took a book to give to Governor and Mrs. Herbert, and I got them both to sign another copy for me, on the page with the State Street/Utah Capitol picture. I love what he wrote, "What a wonderful book, particularly the parts regarding Utah." I hope to fill it up with signatures as I travel around this summer to promote the book.
5. Put together a press kit for the Highway 89 project. For as long as I procrastinated on this, it was not really that difficult once I started assembling the pieces. I'm sending it out to potential reviewers and vendors now that I have it. It's little things, like "Signed by the author" stickers that sell books, but take way more time than seems reasonable.
6. Keyworded 18,000+ images. Getting faster as I build my keyword list. I decided to sprinkle metadata lightly (title and a few keywords) on all my images. Once I rate them, I may go back and add more to the highly ranked ones. As for ratings, I'm liking the system proposed by Peter Krogh: 1 star means "show to client," 2 starts means "best of subject/pose/group," 3 stars means best of session/outing or "pick me!" Four and 5 stars are reserved for portfolio quality and lifetime achievements. I still have another 20,000+ to keyword before I give it up completely.
7. Completed a comprehensive 3-2-1 back-up of every RAW file, an off-site copy and a workflow to move forward. I ended up buying another 1.5TB drive rather than moving files in a hopscotch game across a motley collection of drives. R is in charge of bringing home the weekly exchange of 2TB drives to make off-site back-ups of my working files. This mini-project kept me working on my laptop, disconnected from my DROBO, so blogging has been pretty well shut down. That's about to be fixed.
8. Made my first sales call. Got an order. It was awesome. Did it again. This might not be a complete financial disaster.
9. Cooked some Thanksgiving and did some Christmas shopping. Did not kill Slate for climbing the Christmas Tree. R has firmly secured it, because 14lbs of leaping cat can create a lot of leverage at 6' of elevation.
10. Made room to store 3 pallets of books. Actually R did this while I keyworded or knit or something, but we are ready. And not a moment too soon. My container has already cleared customs, and were it not for a humongous winter storm clogging up I-15, it might have been delivered today. I heard from the dispatcher yesterday, but nothing since.
11. Started planning the next project. If the Highway 89 project wasn't sufficiently overambitious, this one ought to prove once and for all that I am nuts. It's going to be a lot of fun, regardless.

    That's the news from the palace. So close to the finish line, but one last caution lap. I am really looking forward to seeing that checkered flag.

Twin Marble Canyon bridges, Glen Canyon National Recreation Area

The good news is that the books are done, bound and in a shipping container somewhere on the high Pacific. The bad news is that I am attempting to update four websites all at once to get ready for the launch. Sagebrush Press needs a press kit, US89.com needs content, and I am putting my images on Photoshelter. This one is showing the neglect. Today's entry is a cross-post from US89.com. I've shown these bridges from the air; I made this picture in April 2009 on a Colorado River raft trip. This is the image that made it into the book.

(excerpted from U.S. Highway 89: the Scenic Route to Seven Western National Parks)

The Navajo Bridge, opened to traffic in 1929, eliminated the worst danger on the highway: the Lee's Ferry crossing. Sandwiched between sheer vertical cliffs, it was barely possible to construct dugways down to the river from the surrounding plateaus. Sharlot Hall* wrote, "The road looked as if it had been cut out of the red clay mountains with a pocket knife; sometimes it hung out over the river so we seemed sliding into the muddy current and again the cliffs above hung over till one grew dizzy to look."

No one could cross the Colorado River at the height of spring runoff when 100,000 cubic feet of water blasted by each second. In drought years, the river could be waded; some travelers would risk a crossing on foot if the winter ice was thick. Eleven people lost their lives in the nearly 60 years of ferry service, which closed for good in 1928 when the boat capsized, washing away a Model T and drowning three passengers.

Six miles downstream, Navajo Bridge rises 67 feet above the river, the world's highest highway span when it was built. The bridge formed an essential link for the residents of the Arizona Strip, isolated from the rest of the state, including their county seat in Flagstaff. In 1995, vehicular traffic shifted to a wider bridge installed a few yards to the south. The old structure remains open to foot traffic, serving visitors from an interpretive center hosted by the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area.

* Sharlot Hall wrote one of the earliest travel guides to the Colorado Plateau region. Hall never married, but ran her aging parents' ranch near Prescott while working as a contributor and editor for a Los Angeles magazine. A political appointee as Arizona's territorial historian, Hall wrote about her remarkable trip to the Kaibab Plateau and Arizona Strip in 1911, in which she and a hired guide traveled more than 1,000 miles by wagon to collect first-person pioneer histories.

The attendants carried the flag while the queen sang the national anthem

The Sanpete Messenger ran this image as part of their July 24 festivities report. Maybe next year I can get them to get me a press pass to the derby. Toughest ticket to get in this state; I don't know why. There are plenty of other demolition derbies around, but this one folks camp out overnight for tickets. I waited 6 hours and got nearly the last ones in the arena.

A spectacularly steamy collision

The last seats in the house are the ones facing the sun. We got lucky with lots of cloud cover, and the backlighting made for some dramatic photos in the early heats. I shot through the finals, but the earlier ones are the best.

The finals

The final round was hotly contested, as in one of the other competitor's car was spewing flames from the bottom. The standby firefighters put it out, and amazingly, number 57 kept rolling. But number 208, who apparently invested all his time in engine work and nothing in paint, ultimately won the battle of the rusting American steel. Will we see Hummers vs Escalades twenty years from now?

Background image used in the cover of my book on U.S. 89

After making the last 22 tweaks today, I can finally say this: done. As in finished, burned to a DVD, down payment check written, U.S. Highway 89 has been shipped off to be printed.

The feeling of completion is peculiar. I have lived with this project for over three years as my number one thing to do each day, and now that has changed. There is plenty to do, just not "finish the book." I will keep traveling U.S. 89, to make more photos, visit with friends I've made, maybe even peddle a book or two, but as the person who "has written" rather than "is writing" and it isn't the same at all.

I did an interview taping for some friends with the Utah Heritage Highway 89 last week and the cameraman asked me how this project has changed me. That's what this whole blog has been about, the things I've learned from the doing of the thing. I am bolder: I couldn't afford the luxury of shyness and finish. I am more entrepreneurial, driven to it by necessity when the publishing industry collapsed. I drive better: you would too if the pinnacle of your career was emblazoned on your license plate.

The most important thing I learned, photographically speaking, is that if I say "what the?" then I need to stop the car immediately. There are no second chances. Maybe different chances, with different light, posture, expression, but no rewind button. Too many things that I photographed are gone forever now. To paraphrase a line from elsewhere: if you are thinking about making a photograph, make it and then think about it afterwards.

My acknowledgements section is the longest single paragraph in the book, and it's almost certainly not complete. I'm grateful to my blog readers for the encouragement and gentle (ok, not so gentle) nudges to finish this project and send it out into the world. Thank you.

They tell me that Sagebrush Press will have books in stock in about 10-12 weeks. There are proofs and more proofs and container shipments and customs and lift-gates in my future. But today it is done. I have written a book, the best book I could. Like the time I jumped from a cliff at Elves' Chasm in Grand Canyon National Park, I still getting used to the idea of having actually done it.

Breakfast after the Sanpitch Cowboy Expo photo clinic

After she spent the early morning riding in the arena for our photo clinic, one of the rodeo royalty got her breakfast from the cook shack. Her horse was apparently hungry too. Here's a direct quote: "My other horse likes biscuits."

Rounding the barrel

About 25 photographers participated in Saturday's Sanpitch Cowboy Expo photo clinic, despite the 7 am start. Friends on the organizing committee arranged for the Mt. Pleasant rodeo royalty and other friends to bring their horses and demonstrate skills for us, while Rich Legg and I gave a modified version of Rich's "10 things to improve your photography" workshop. Mostly Rich talked, while I cued up riders and helped folks as needed. Harley and Nicole lent a hand as well.

Haymaking equipment known as a "beaverslide"

For the whole time I have been working on the U.S. Highway 89 book, I have been focused on keeping the final product as affordable as possible. A fancy coffee table book would have been much easier to produce, a nice fat hardbound book that would retail for $75 or more. And ego-gratifying, unless I wanted people to actually buy and enjoy my book. No, my model of success has always been at a much lower price point. I figure that if someone picks up my book on one part of the highway, say in Yellowstone, and decides to go visit another place like Wupatki National Monument because they saw it in my book, I would have accomplished something. Which sort of means people have to be able to buy it. How many people actually buy $75 books?

Since acquiring Sagebrush Press, I have gotten a rapid education on what makes books affordable. Not everything I want can go into the book, which means some hard choices. This one didn't make it to the final round. Others did. 176 images (today, may tweak it tomorrow), but not this one, even though I can think of a thousand reasons why I like it. The story required others.

It's a better position to be in than the alternative, putting in junk to fill out the pages. I am glad to say I have all the images I need. And a few to spare. I also have some spare words, sentences that I cut to fit the copy to the layout. This highway is a big topic, all 1,600 miles of it, and everything I love about it just won't fit between two softcover, 4 color process plus gloss UV coating, perfect-bound covers (that's printer-talk for you) unless the type is really, really small. Hard choices, and I'm glad I'm the one making them. I still wish I could fit this one it though

Screen shot of my U.S. Highway 89 book

Progress, frustratingly slow, but progress nevertheless. I don't dare put a date on when it will go to press, but it is going. Here's a screen shot of the introductory spread for Chapter 8. I am very happy with how it is coming out.

There are 176 images in the book (as of today, may change tomorrow). In selecting images, I was grateful for some good advice I absorbed early on, and wished more times than I can say that I followed it more rigorously early in the project: once I have a cooperative subject and a good composition, to shoot it for a variety of crop formats. The image of Lower Yellowstone Falls, for example, I shot wide, so I could crop at an 8x10 format, and long, so I could use a 2x3. I have some that are horizontal. The rainbow lasts for only a few minutes, so it's important to have a plan to get all the different aspect ratios I might want later on.

I wasn't 100% consistent in shooting for completeness early on, and sometimes things are so fast moving, I only got one shot. Since I'm designing this book myself, I had the luxury of making my images fit to the text, but sometimes it would have been a lot easier to have a vertical image that would crop to the size I needed, rather than fitting the one I had, or settling for a horizontal one and redesigning a spread.

If I can't make a lot of shots, these days I am shooting wider, filling the shorter dimension of the frame, but leaving room for cropping on the long side since the 2x3 format is pretty restrictive. But if I can, I shoot lots of options. I get teased sometimes by other photographers for taking way more shots than others, but I have turned that old advice into hard-won experience, and a few extra electrons isn't going to hurt anyone.

As my friend Bruce Hucko says to me, "Drive on!" Just a few more mileposts to go.

P.S. If you want to get an email when this book is available, please visit my handy email email form to sign up.

The Grand Teton, tallest of them all

I counted up the photos in the nearly final layout of the Highway 89 book: 176. But not this one. I didn't do anything with this when I shot it in 2006--two other images from that same trip are in the book, including this one, that it didn't stand out at the time. My Adobe Camera Raw chops are better now too. I made this a much better image than I could have three years ago. Even though it doesn't displace anything in the Wyoming chapter, I still like it.

Three day old foal

Even though I'm about done shooting for Highway 89 project, I can't seem to get away from Sanpete County. We went down to Spring City Heritage Day, and on the way, met up with a new committee member for the Day of the American Cowboy Celebration in Mt. Pleasant (July 25). Adam has a new addition to his ranch: this three-day old filly.

Today, Rich Legg and I were doing some photo editing for the book, and drifted off into esoteric Photoshop actions. This one is supposed to mimic a platinum print. I don't know about that, but I like the effect for this timeless scene.

Nankoweap Granaries

One of the reasons we chose to float the Grand Canyon in April with CRATE was the opportunity for more hiking time than a typical 8-day motorized trip. Same river distance in 11 days equates to three more days to explore, and reliably cooler weather in April.

When we rafted (with CRATE) in 1998, we did not get to stop at the Nankoweap granaries. It's a short and steep hike (there are only steep hikes in Grand Canyon), a good warm-up for the days ahead.

Trail to the Nankoweap granaries

While we were on the trail, the shadow line crossed the river from right bank to left, and I could have watched it and worked with it and the granaries all morning. Even with 11 river days, the schedule did not allow for frittering away everyone else's time for photography. Dawdling could mean losing a premium campsite to another party, and then we'd be lined up in our sleeping bags like basking seals on a narrow beach somewhere. I couldn't do that to my shipmates, all friends of friends and kind, considerate people. Instead, I scuttled back to the raft so we could make some river miles before lunch and cookie time.

Mile 50 from Lee's Ferry on the Colorado River

The guidebooks mark 280 miles from Lee's Ferry to the Lake Mead takeout points. On our 11 day voyage, we made it to mile 50 on the second night, making some early headway so we could devote a couple days to long hikes.

The trip started on an upsetting note, when one of the senior members of our party collapsed at Lee's Ferry. Instead of getting our pre-boarding safety lecture, we did what little we could to help our guides and the park service rangers render aid. Our friend was evacuated by helicopter to Flagstaff; his wife and another couple left the trip to be with him in the hospital. He is home now, doing well. It's the kind of disaster that brings out the "what ifs". What if it had happened a half hour later when we were plunging deep into Marble Canyon? The outcome might not have been so good.

After the chopper left, the rangers left, and the guides restowed their emergency kits, we went on. The first night was subdued.

By the second day, we had toasted our friends and decided to make the most of our trip. At our second camp, I retrieved my tripod from its safe spot deep in the bottom of the raft and carried my gear down to the river. I had to race to get this shot before the light beams moved off the rapids.

Sunset comes early when you are deep in the Grand Canyon. The golden glow is followed by a long twilight hour, time to contemplate while waiting for supper, the bats, the first stars. That night we didn't know if our friend had survived. All we could do was hope, and accept the solace of the red canyon walls.

Lava Falls, Grand Canyon National Park

The second half of our rafting party gets the thrill of a lifetime in the Grand Canyon's biggest rapid.

I have barely had time to scan through the 42 GB of images I amassed with the four cameras I carried on the trip. (Note to photographers, make sure your outfitter is understanding about the amount of gear before you book your trip. Our group was smaller than normal, making extra room for my two backpacks and Pelican case.) The boatman on the raft I was on went first, offering a memorial to a friend who had passed, and we had the cleanest, driest ride through Lava Falls. He then crossed the tail of the rapid to get us into position for spectating and photographing. The second raft party had watched our descent from the scouting spot; as they trundled to their raft, I had time to get out my gear, swap on the 70-200, a new flash card and battery pack for the D700. This is one of 52 images I took in 40 seconds, selectively firing the shutter to keep the buffer from overfilling. Somewhere on that raft are 10 people, most of whom appear to be underwater during this frame.

Lower Yellowstone Falls, Yellowstone NP

This image needs a home, because there's only room for one Lower Yellowstone Falls image in the U. S. 89 book. This isn't the one, but calling it a reject just ain't right.

So what trumps this picture? I won't say it's better, just that the one I picked works better in the context of the Wyoming chapter. It will be the Highway 89 print of the month for July. I think it's worth waiting for.

Union Pacific's historic engine 844 visited Ogden, Utah this weekend

Yesterday, I had time to read only a dozen Twitter updates. Luckily, Scott Smith's tweet about Union Pacific's steam locomotive 844 arriving in Ogden was one of them. Because of Easter shots I needed for the Cathedral of the Madeleine project, I couldn't go on Sunday, but we met up this morning at the station.

We made a new friend, Jim, who had photographed the train before and knew how the main line tracks intersected all the interesting bridges and crossings on the train's path toward Elko. As it left the station, Jim invited Scott and me to jump in his car to chase the train. We got a few shots, but I liked this one better, with just a hint of old-time industrial Ogden in the background.

Occasionally, I get some grief about spending valuable time on Twitter, but opportunities like this one have sprung up that I would have otherwise completely missed. Even the UP Steam Locomotive 844 has a Twitter stream. Not like the old days, when railways were managed by telegraph orders, grabbed by the crew as their train passed through a station. Named for the onionskin paper they were printed on, "flimsies" were eventually replaced by radios. I talked to a retired front brakeman today who remembered using them in his days on the rails. The gentleman probably doesn't Twitter either, but without it, I never would have had a chance to meet him.

You can find me on Twitter at twitter.com/anntorrence. Fun, free, and occasionally shockingly useful.

Cowboy Bar, Jackson Wyoming

I knew in the back of my mind that I had a keeper of this neon, but then I moved on. Today I put some time into readying it for the Highway 89 project.

I found some zebras yesterday in a Sanpete County pasture

Sanpete County, about 100 miles from Salt Lake City, is famous for many kinds of animals: Rambouillet sheep breeding in the 1920s, the turkey farms of the 1940s and today, and some fine quarterhorses are being raised there. I know where to find a small-scale pig farmer and someone raising peacocks, but before yesterday, I had no idea anyone had stocked zebras on their land. Another mystery from the Highway 89 project.

Victory parade for 13-0 Utah Utes football team

Alternate caption: "Dude, what's with the rat dog?" The player at left is throwing candy to the crowd; the one at right looks none too sure about the fan with dog.

Congratulations to the Utes for a perfect season! If only the BCS were perfect.

I wasn't going to blog a best-of for 2008, mostly because the end-of-year recap on my 2008 resolutions was already nagging at me. The national implosion of the publishing industry directly impacted my Highway 89 project, and by the end of December, I was glad to see the calendar flip to a new start. But Jim Goldstein hounded me for a contribution to his collection of best-of blog posts, so here is my list.

February: Parry Motel, Kanab UT

Neon colored snow

I made the first of the 2008 trips to Arizona in February. A heavy snow blanketed southern Utah the day before I left. I learned that gas doesn't pump so well when the night time temperatures drop below -10F. And I made the first of many neon discoveries on my way south. I haven't blogged this image before.

Lomaki Pueblo at Wupatki NM

A year ago today I was at one of the jewels of the National Parks system, Wupatki NM. Dusted with a little snow, it's one of my favorite places on US Highway 89.

Kurt at National Parks Traveler asked me to contribute an article on Wupatki for his site, which is chock-full of information and stories about most every unit in the NPS's care. My story on Wupatki NM appears today.

Shaping the handle of my brand

Henri Cartier-Bresson talked about the "decisive moment" when all the elements of a photo come together. This image is from my brand-making session last Friday. Which one better tells the story of Dan at his trade?

Sparks from the welder's flame

I read plenty about the new Internet economy and social media. Plenty of self-styled experts are expounding on the importance of branding my identity, etc., etc., etc. How do they monetize harping and nagging anyway?

So I took their advice, sort of, and drove down Highway 89 to Mt. Pleasant to meet my rancher-friend Reed Thomas's personal brand-consultant, Dan Oldroyd. Dan knows how to make stuff, real stuff, in his shop full of anvils, tongs, furnaces and a personal hobbit-sized train engine he built. He and a buddy are laying track for it on 5 acres in Mt. Pleasant, but we'll save that for another time.

And while I made photos, Dan made me a brand. It's not registered (yet) so I can't show it to you. I deferred to the experts as far as the particulars, and Dan put a nice loop on the end, turning it into a "wall-hanger" since I don't as yet own any cattle needing a brand. Note that "as yet" part. I'm thinking about it.

Apparently, I was quite lucky to get these shots without also getting a corneal burn. So if you go get your own brand fabricated (and Dan of Dan's Machining in Mt. Pleasant, across from the now-defunct winery, will be quite happy to see you. Tell him Ann from the big city sent you), don't look at the welding light.

And if you are a social media maven type, you can follow me (anntorrence) on Twitter too.

Airborne above Skyline Drive

Utah is well-known for its skiing and snowboading, but did you know it also has a world-class snow-kiting venue? Combining wind, snow, and speed, these athletes fly in in all directions. Snow-kiting lets you ski (or board-enthusiasts use both kinds of equipment) uphill. Once there's snow on the ground in the mountains above the Sanpete Valley, the snow-kiting crowd is out there most weekends, and lessons can be organized for newbies.

Utah got an early storm that blanketed the region with snow, but not much since then. There's a chance of some more on Thursday. If the storm comes through, you can give it a try this weekend at the season-opener Snowkite Summit. Even if there's not enough coverage to ride, the manufacturers will be demoing new gear in the town of Fairview. If you go, say hello to Brian and Heather Schenk of Windzup. They helped pioneer the Skyline venue and are having such success with snowkiting in Sanpete County that they moved their company to Mount Pleasant.

For the ultimate in spectator sports, put this on your calendar: the US Open Snowkite Masters competition at Skyline, Utah in Sanpete County will be February 26 - March 1, 2009.

Sandstone reflections

I spent the last two days editing the Utah chapters of my opus on US Highway 89, which means I have been rifling through my books, notes and photocopies for random facts that need checking. Like these gems

• The forest service has been pleading with people since at least 1926, the year Highway 89 was born, to not shoot up the road signs.
• Utah's first "good roads" was held at Lagoon, ironic since Simon Bamberger built the resort in part to attract ridership to his electric tramway.
• The Dominguez-Escalante expedition of 1776 stopped at some hot springs in Spanish Fork Canyon on their way to Utah Lake. Probably Castilla Hot Springs, which was another resort, until it burned down.
• Piute County only has about 1,350 residents, but it's not the smallest in Utah (Daggett, with under 1,000, wins that contest)
• At its highest level, Lake Bonneville's surface was 650' above Logan's Main Street

Just a reminder: if you want to receive an email reminder when the book is published, please sign up on this secure form. I promise I will not use it for spam or other evil.

My favorite aspens

We probably wouldn't have gone to Jackson this year if I hadn't needed to visit the town library. The scientist has been under extraordinary pressure these last few months, and it's hard to justify the time away from the lab. So we made a short trip, with time for only a few photos. The original mission on the day I shot this landscape of Mt. Moran was simply a record shot of my favorite trees in Grand Teton NP, maybe anywhere. In all the years I have hiked, kayaked and photographed in the park, I had never seen them as glorious as they were this October. One more gift that came from my US 89 project. I will finish the book but the highway goes on forever.

Plywood now covers most of the windows of this former LDS ward building, privately owned, in Ovid, Idaho

The first ever Bear Lake Photo Seminar was a great success, with over 50 people attending and lots of participation. Harley blogged a great wrap-up of the workshop. I was struck by how few gearheads I met; these folks were much more interested in making photos. And I was deeply impressed by the hand-out the organizers distributed, which mapped out a number of interesting photo locations in the Montpelier area. If only I had had such a document when I was starting out on the Highway 89 project. Ross Walker said they are going to make the workshop an annual event, and next year should be even better. The Bear Lake region has been mostly, and undeservedly, a locals-only photography destination. Hopefully the Sharpshooters Camera Club can change that.

In my presentation, I talked about how this project has impacted my photography. One of the points I made was that, to tell the US89 story, sometimes I have had to return to the same location many times to get the image I wanted. I must have stopped at this church dozens of times, but the light was only right once. Even if I didn't make a picture, I was thinking about the image I wanted, learning that essential skill of previsualization that Ansel Adams always went on about.

The flipside of the story is the picture that can't be made anymore. I show a couple of images where the subject has been so dramatically altered, the image can't be made today. One of my (unblogged as yet) grain elevators was dismantled, board by board, five months after I photographed it. The famous haystacks in Jackson, Wyoming, aren't being stacked any more; the ranch has the big balers now. I am so glad I got the Ovid Ward shot when I did, because the back windows have plywood on them today. You can visualize it, can't you? The image won't ever be the same.

Then there are the images I didn't make in time, the particular piece of neon in Ogden, the rusty fuel tank in Piute County, and more I still lament. Either the light wasn't right, or I didn't think I had time to stop, or some other reason that I don't recall. I only remember the previsualized image I won't ever have. That's a harder lesson about working on projects, to do it now, before the bulldozer takes it away.

New Windsor Neon

This image is all about cool: cool blues, the 1950s jazzy kind of cool, the cool of a late evening. How deceptive images can be: it was 100 degrees in Phoenix that night.

When I went to Arizona in August for the monsoons, I had an extra evening in the schedule and I wanted to go downtown. Now central Phoenix isn't exactly the safest place to wander about after dark, so I contacted Alex, who I knew only through his NSFW blog, Voenix Rising. I knew he was enjoying with a new camera and thought he might be entertained by an ad hoc Photowalk. Despite his laryngitis and the monsoon heat, Alex agreed.

We had a good time getting to know each other, but I wasn't having much luck finding an angle on Phoenix that fit into the Highway 89 project. After a couple hours in the grueling heat radiating off the downtown concrete, we packed it in. I was driving Alex back to his car when I saw this blue glow a few blocks down the street. Alex suddenly got to see a new side of my personality; there was no way I was passing this up. Luckily, we were like-minded on the subject, and dragged our tripods out of the car.

Pretty soon, I had several series of images that really made me happy. It was darker than I like, but luckily the building was well-lit and stood out from the black sky. I shot for my usual neon post-processing routine. The owner of the hotel came out. He was very accommodating and told us a little about the restoration work he's done. Alex has been back since, but hasn't seen the motorcycle parked out front again.

So is it persistence, blind-squirrels finding the inevitable nut, or just good fortune when we run into subjects like this? I wonder. I do know that if I hadn't called Alex, if I hadn't put the gear in the truck, if I hadn't been sweltering for hours, if I hadn't parked where I did, I would have missed it. There's been a magic for me out on US 89 that is beyond explanation. I'm going to run (or drive) with it.

Tomorrow, I will be showing this image in my presentation at the Bear Lake Photo Seminar in Montpelier, Idaho. I added a new section to my Moab talk with images made since May in chronological order. It's a different take on the project, since I basically zigzagged border-to-border twice this summer. Glacier NP follows Sunset Crater NM, Nogales, Arizona is next to Yellowstone NP. I will let the audience decide whether I am committed or should be committed. I'm just going to keep driving until it's done.

Grain elevator in Wilsall, Montana

In the process of getting ready to talk about my U.S. 89 project on Saturday, I decided to pull together the images I made since I last gave this talk in May to see which ones to add to the presentation.

One night in my Moab motel room last May, I made a list of the essential images I needed to finish the project, and I left there committed to go get them. Since then, I have driven to both ends of the historic Highway 89 again (that's about 3,200 miles round-trip). I have been to Montana twice, Arizona twice, and five of the seven national parks, all in about five months. Except for the ones I have blogged, the +10,000 RAW files I shot since May have been filed, backed-up and set aside for "when I have time." Basically I came home, repacked, and went back out on the road all summer.

I knew I had worked my way pretty far down my list. But I still didn't have a sense of what I'd accomplished until I started selecting RAW files for processing. I might have said I had a dozen or two to finish, because my original list wasn't that long. After I copied over 200 files into the work folder, let's just say that "when I have time" has now become something of an emergency.

Like this grain elevator, opportunities presented themselves that weren't on my targeted list. When I stopped in Wilsall, I was, in fact, driving between two "must get" locations when a thunderstorm kicked up over the Absarokas to the south of the Shield River Valley. I have already confessed my near-obsession with grain elevators, and I stayed for a very long series of images that pleased me greatly.

Needless to say, I won't be adding 200+ images to my presentation. Since I am talking about "working in project mode," I may add a section at the end of recent images to show how the project has been built image by image. By the way, I spent so much time at Wilsall, I missed sunset at the second "must get" location and I had to stay in Montana another night. I think it was worth it.

Clouds on Mt. Moran at the Oxbow overlook, Grand Tetons National Park (panorama of seven images merged in Photoshop

The mountain was completely socked in at dawn. We went back to sleep, ate breakfast. I said, "Even if it is cloudy, I wanted to photograph my favorite aspens in the park." The clouds started to lift.

For fifteen years we have paddled and photographed at the Oxbow. We have seen some awesome sunrises there. This day was different. Humblingly beautiful. All I could (and can) say is "Thank you."

Herd of Pronghorn near Bondurant, Wyoming

My troops revolted yesterday. Or is it troop, when there's only one member of the corps? Anyway, R insisted that we take the US 189 route to Jackson, through Evanston, Kemmerer, Big Piney and Hoback Canyon. He's driven so many miles of U.S. Highway 89 with me over the years, I conceded, but only for the outbound leg of the trip. Besides, he was driving at the time.

Besides, he was being kind of romantic. See, we moved to Utah in 1993 and visited Jackson for the first time that year. We have been coming here every year at the end of September, and until I started this crazy project,

Sunset behind the Grand Canyon Lodge at the North Rim

Even though the sunset didn't bounce into the Grand Canyon the day I was there, I did make the files I needed to composite this image. I knew in field that I would need at least two images in a series of exposures to expand the dynamic range, and I ended up taking at least four bracketed exposures for each composition. To hold back the sky, I exposed 2 2/3 stops under the base image (4 seconds vs 25 seconds, at ISSSO 100 and f 7.1. When I'm setting up stuff like this, I put the camera in Manual mode and count the clicks in the exposure range that I want.

Back at the ranch, I chose my composition, then used Adobe Camera Raw to open the files. I ended up layering the same file twice, once with the Fill Light and Brightness settings cranked up a little, once unchanged. I opened all the files, renamed the "Background" in each to the file number, and then use "Shift" while dragging to stack them in aligned layers. To each layer I added to the base, I added a mask. My favorite tool for masking is the Gradient tool, in combination with the blending mode in the tool options bar. I might use the Gradient to make a mask from top to bottom to reveal the sky, then re-use the Gradient tool with the blending mode set to Darken or Lighten as needed, to add or subtract to my mask without impacting the part of the mask that's how I want it. Don't forget that you can use selection tools on the mask to limit your changes. Because the masks don't have non-destructive adjustment layers, be careful. (I asked the Adobe engineers for adjustment layers on channels once, and they looked at me in horror. I understand I'm asking for a lot, but I had my reasons: remixes. But I digress.) For those of us who learned Photoshop before there were adjustment layers and the history palette, working with masks brings up a lot of bad memories; for those who picked up Photoshop after 1996, just remember you can find your mask in the channels palette and make a copy of it before you edit it.

I didn't get to stay in the lodge itself that night. I was lucky to score a room at all. I do have my rim-side room request in mind for my next visit with R. Maybe we'll plan a celebratory event when I finish the text for the Highway 89 project, if I get it done before they close for the season. I plan to be done before that, but I'm not in charge of the weather.

Kites flying over Spanish Fork

Thanks to Mecworks in our PhotowalkingUtah group, I got to get in close to the Berkeley Kite Wranglers' demo at the Sky Spectacular in Spanish Fork. With an ATV, you can make your own wind. The festival celebrated the launching of the monumentally huge wind power generators at the mouth of Spanish Fork Canyon, just east of where US6 and Highway 89 join. Erik joined us, so we declared it an impromptu Photowalk. Spanish Fork plans to make this an annual event, so maybe we'll make it a destination for one of next year's Photowalks.

Monsoon clouds over Saguaro National Park

I came to Arizona with an agenda, a list of essential photos for the U.S. Highway 89 book project. I have a vision for the book, I can see it almost page-by-page. For the last 10 days, I have been knocking out pictures that fit into that overall vision. I can get overly task-oriented, to the point where, if I'm not careful I could miss out on other great pictures.

At Glacier National Park, I was intending to photograph the classic view of Grinnell Point at sunrise. Without any clouds, the scene is pedestrian, and the second morning I went out, the sky was "severe clear" over the lake. To the east, the clouds colored up spectacularly. So I walked over to where I could see the pretty sunrise, without intending to photograph it. Then I saw the reflection of the clouds over the creek and started shooting. The result is one of my favorite photos from the trip. Will it make it into the book? Probably not, but I'm glad to have it, and to have seen it that morning.

Similarly, I was wandering about Saguaro National Park last week in search of sunset location when a thunderstorm kicked up. This photo idea wasn't on the agenda either, but it was the one I wanted to make when I saw it. It might even make the final cut for the book, but I wasn't thinking of that at the time.

The lesson I'm learning out here is that, while the structure of the project helps set the compass for my work, I have to be willing to toss aside maps and checklists and trust my inner direction, if I'm going to make the kind of pictures I really want to make.

Twin bridges over Marble Canyon and the Colorado River

Arizona's first state highway, U.S. 89, was mostly complete from Nogales to Flagstaff by 1926. The segment from Flagstaff to the Utah line took much longer. Lee's Ferry over the Colorado River was shut down after a deadly accident in 1928; the bridge over Marble Canyon, 6 miles downstream, replaced the ferry altogether in 1929. The second bridge (the lower one in this photo) was installed in 1995 and the original was opened to foot traffic for visitors to the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area center at the left end of the bridge in this photo

Until the bridge over Glen Canyton opened in 1957, all north-south traffic from Phoenix to Salt Lake City used the Navajo Bridge and passed through Jacob's Lake. The Glen Canyon Bridge is also a two-lane bridge, but the route through Page avoids the windy mountain climb and descent to cross the Kaibab Plateau. The original section of U.S. 89 from Bitter Springs to Kanab was renumbered US89A when the road through Page was finished as part of the infrastructure to build the Glen Canyon Dam.

The research for the Highway 89 project has been completely enjoyable, like a huge jigsaw puzzle with pieces scattered in libraries and museums along the highway's 1,600 miles. Winnowing the data into a story that can fit into a book, and making the accompanying images is yet another kind of puzzle. Of my numerous photos of the Navajo Bridges, this aerial I made last weekend with Maria Langer gives the best sense of how fundamental a barrier the Colorado River presented to interstate travel. I am having so much fun assembling the story of this scenic route through the American West.

Horseshoe Bend near Page Arizona

One of the great things about the blogosphere is the people you might meet. I say "might" because the blog only goes so far. At some point, I have to pick up the phone or email and make the personal contact. I met Maria Langer last February when I was in Wickenburg. Who could not be intrigued by a best selling computer book author who also happens to have a helicopter charter business? And she has horses, chickens and a husband! Maria spent the early summer drying cherries on contract to some Washington orchards, now she's in Page flying for tourists, so I had the chance to stop in on my way from SLC to Phoenix.

There wasn't a room to be had in Page on Friday night - I thought gasoline was expensive, but plenty of people were motoring huge watercraft about the lake this weekend. Maria put me up in her trailer and introduced me to the rest of the pilots camped out in the RV park near the airport. This pilot subculture, like river guides and dude wranglers, has its own language and customs, but hospitality seems to rank high. The next morning, Maria suggested breakfast at Marble Canyon, about 40 miles from Page by car. It's only 10 minutes by helicopter if you go the straight path; we did not. What fun would that be?

Maria put me completely at ease in the air, and on the way back, she took off the door on my side so I could get some shots without the bubble glare. She flew a legal path over the restricted area inside Grand Canyon National Park boundaries, and then circled over the famous Horseshoe Bend at a couple different altitudes. I also got some shots of both the Glen Canyon and Marble Canyon Bridges (2 of the seven land crossings over the Colorado River in 750 miles) and a fascinating look at Antelope Canyon from above.

If I had a sponsor for the flight time, I would do an aerial tour of the entire length of U.S. Highway 89. We have so many locations emblazoned on our memories from a particular location, and I'd love to show some of my favorite places from different perspectives. Most people make a short hike from Highway 89 to the Horseshoe Bend. They see it from the upper right in this image and never get to see the rest of the s-curve. Maria is a photographer herself, and knows how to work with other photographers in the air. She has put together some outstanding aerial tours, including a week-long circle of the highlights of Arizona. If you are looking to fly with someone, I highly recommend Flying M Air (and the breakfast at the Cliff Dwellers Lodge).

Sunrise over Swiftcurrent Lake at Glacier National Park

The morning I took this photo, I was the only photographer out on the shore of Swiftcurrent Lake for a long time. The gale winds whipping across the lake might have had something to do with it. I had the heavy tripod and ducked into the lee of the hotel; no amount of ballast would have given a sharp shot out in the open. Luckily, the clouds lit up favorably in the only direction that worked with the wind. Amazingly beautiful color peaked 27 minutes prior to this shot. (I'm working on a panorama I made at that time.) The sky went quiet for a few minutes, then the light play among the clouds broke through for a good half hour. I like this one, and many others. The lesson is to be there early and then stay put to see what happens. Sometimes I get lucky.

Glacial melt forms Lake Grinnell in Glacier National Park

Lake Grinnell is about a 3 mile hike from Many Glaciers Hotel on the east side of Glacier National Park. Some people make a shorter hike out of it by riding the classic wooden boats across Swiftcurrent Lake, transferring to another boat on Lake Josephine, and then hiking about a mile to Lake Grinnell. The trail parallels all three lakes, and we wanted to scout a better kayak portage around a hiker's bridge at the connecting stream's entrance to Swiftcurrent Lake, so we hiked.

What a difference a season makes. Last year, at almost the same time, the valleys were filled with smoke from the countless forest fires in the northwest, the streams were low from the drought, and hardly a flower was in bloom. The big snows of last winter changed everything, and we counted several dozen species of wildflowers on the hike. We did see one bear that we are pretty sure was the same individual: a distinctively blond cub last year on the southern slopes above the Many Glaciers Hotel has grown into a massive blond yearling almost as big has the sow it was foraging with.

Glacier NP photography has some interesting complications, like the bear factor, road construction, and wind. The classic wide-angle shot of everything in focus from flowers a foot away to the ridgeline will require a lot more time in the park. I am not complaining, just saying. Even though I'm close to finishing my project, I'm looking forward to a lot more time in the field at the northernmost end of U.S. 89.

Toward Logan Pass, Glacier National Park

The Highway 89 project marches on, this time to the top of Going-to-the-Sun Road. Here's a view from the east side, looking to the west in late afternoon. I wanted to shoot this angle again, but the road was shut down completely each night, much to our surprise one pre-dawn launch. So close, so far. Another reason to come back. As if I needed any more reasons.

We are in Choteau, MT, to visit another library, do some hiking, and be in small town America for a few days. The seat of Teton County, MT (not Teton County, WY, but same creative French trapper naming strategy), Choteau has schools, a hospital, and more services than one might expect in a town of 1,500. Like a latte shop (also the nature store serving the birders at Freezeout Lake and a hunting shop) that has made R very happy.

Tonight, we saw a guy's guy in with boots on the barstool, wearing a cowboy hat and drinking white wine. That's what this project is all about: reinventing the west, one cowboy at a time.

Lower Yellowstone Falls

Regardless of the price of gas, visitation at the two biggest NPS units on Highway 89 was at record levels in June.

The USA Today reported that Yellowstone had 612,000 tourist visits in June, while the Arizona Sun Daily said that at the Grand Canyon, "early-summer visitation is up a whopping 15 percent over the same period during each of the previous two years."

It's not clear whether the numbers are due to the low value of the dollar, which is putting many Europeans' dream vacation within their reach. Another factor could be that Americans are choosing the parks instead of more expensive vacations. Either scenario is welcome news for me, since the seven national parks on US 89 are key themes of my book. (The other national parks on Highway 89 are, from south to north: Saguaro, Zion, Bryce, Grand Teton and Glacier.) More visitors means more potential buyers, and that is happy news to report to potential publishers.

Here's a useful tidbit if you are planning a park visit. The National Park Service websites are chock full of information, and you can go directly to a park-specific website by typing www.nps.gov/[park code]. The trick is the code, which follows a popular birders' scheme, and the NPS usage is pretty consistent. If the unit name is one word (Glacier) the code is the first four letters (glac). If two words (Bryce Canyon), it's the first two letters of each word (brca). After two words, it gets a bit dodgy: Sunset Crater Volcanic is "sucr" rather than "sucv," but there aren't so many of those parks and monument. Why not use Google or another search engine? Because so much junk on the internet has been posted about the parks to game the search engines. These commercial webpages outscore the official sites, and I get tired of wading through hotel adverts to find the information I need.

I'm heading to Glacier next week. Even though I spent a month in Montana last summer, almost all of it was under smoky, non-photographable conditions. Daily, I'm checking another great government website, the Inciweb coordinated agency fire report, and so far so good. Going-to-the-Sun Road wasn't completely plowed until July 2, an extraordinarily late opening, because of the snow pack, so hopefully the fires will be few and far away from Glacier this season. The vagaries of nature out of my control. All I can do is get out there, look for the light, and see what I can do with it. So far as I know, there isn't a website updating on light conditions, but I wouldn't put it past the social media start-ups to try. What fun would that be?

2006 Fairview Pioneer Days Rodeo

It's time to make plans for a uniquely Utah holiday, Pioneer Day, celebrated on July 24. All up and down Highway 89 will be parades, pancake breakfasts, rodeos, and even a demolition derby in Fairview on the 25th, the hottest ticket in town. And the fireworks are as good, if not better, than the 4th of July displays. If you don't want to mess with crowds, Spanish Fork, Marysvale and Panguitch are all planning a good time. Save a slice of pie for me.

Sunrise over Sunset Crater Volcanic National Monument sunset crater national monument aerial

Sunset Crater Volcanic National Monument, established in part to stop a Hollywood film crew from dynamiting it for the movie "Avalanche" in 1928, looks pretty spectacular at sunrise too.

Contiguous with Wupatki National Monument and 20 air miles or so northeast of Flagstaff, this park has long been on my "must get" list for the Highway 89 project. There's a three hour hike from which most published photographs have been taken, which would necessarily entail a three hour return in the dark. That prospect did not appeal and I did not have a good alternative figured out.

Last month at the Moab Photo Symposium, I met Adriel Heisey. He presented his extraordinary photographic work on the Sonoran Desert, and on the last day, I introduced myself to him. At lunch with Victor Beer, we hatched a plan to get me the crater from Adriel's new plane, a light sport craft from Flight Design USA.

Weather and Adriel's schedule coalesced into a quick trip for me to Flagstaff. I flew commercial from Salt Lake to Phoenix; he flew his craft over from Gallup to meet me. In between sunset and sunrise, we had dinner with his friends Greg and Jean, and about 5 hours of sleep.

Adriel is a certified flight instructor in addition to amazing photographer, so he can fly from the right seat. Putting me on the left gave me the favorable side from which to open the door (Adriel has tested how the propeller airflow differs on either side) for shooting. Open the door--did I really sign up for that? We practiced before take-off, and by the second time, opening the door in mid-air almost seemed normal.

Adriel strapped me into the safety harness. Once the shutter started clicking, I forgot to be afraid, and I was leaning out the door frame to get a better angle. Adriel has this cool gyrostabilizer that minimizes camera shake from hand-holding in a moving environment, like an airplane, or boat, or anywhere you can't use a tripod, but can power it up. I just had think about composition and exposure.

It was all over too quickly, and that from someone who doesn't really care to fly. I now have so many great shots the hard part will be deciding which one goes in the book. Those are the kinds of problems I like to have. Thanks Adriel.

Adriel Heisey photographs and flies out of Gallup, NM.

Edited 1 July 2008 to add links and corrections.

Capitol Motel, State Street, Salt Lake City, Utah

The lure of the distant and the difficult is deceptive. The great opportunity is where you are.

- John Burroughs

Restored neon at the American Legion Hall, Choteau Montana

I was standing in the middle of Highway 89 my first afternoon in Choteau, making a necessary photo for the project, when a gentleman emerged from the bar to ask me what I was doing. Explanations ensued, we had a great conversation, and he told me that the American Legion has just restored their sign. The people I met there were just nice like that. And I made one of my best images of the trip the next evening, "Legion." Only a few short hours later (sunrise comes quickly after sunset in June in the northern latitudes), I made this singularly bad record shot.

Rocky Mountain Front sunrise, west of Bynum, Montana

I'm heading home after three sunrises and sunsets in Teton County Montana. More photos once I get back to base camp.

Grain Elevator, Choteau, MT

Am I the only one who finds grain elevators monumental? Probably. I am fascinated with them, the little personal ones on the edges of a field, the huge Anheuser Busch barley facility south of here. Who knew America drank that much beer? Someone I met up here told me there are only 3 kernels of barley per beer--could that be true?

Last summer during the great Montana voyage, we camped one night in the Choteau city park next to this elevator. Not many choices, what with half the forest on fire and sketchy information about how much of our final destination, Glacier NP, was burning. Ash rained down, and this elevator did not stop loading grain until long after I finally fell asleep. (It's funny that the fires so dominated our trip last year and I really didn't write about it, probably because it was so distressing to be smoked out of so many locations and dwelling on it didn't help.)

It's quiet this week at all the elevators I've passed. Hard late weather ruined some of the winter wheat crop, and I don't even know when that would be harvested if it were doing well. The farmers have replanted with spring wheat, and got good rains to get it going. Or so they said on the radio. The calves are gamboling on green grass for the first time in many years, people tell me, because the drought has been going on for 8, 12 or 17 years. Not this year. It looks like Ireland, it's so green. Wonder what it will be like in a month. Green or golden fields, the farmers and ranchers will take it, so long as it's not on fire again. America needs those grain elevators filled this year, thats for sure. I just want to collect them all, like grain elevator trading cards.

Choteau, MT

P.S. Bridespotting score: 100% of both brides married in Choteau this weekend.

Thai fruit carving demonstration

I finally had a chance to go to the Living Traditions Festival at the City/County Building this year, and photographed several of the demonstrating craftspeople for the Highway 89 project. As always with this project, I am so impressed by how engaged people are in their passions, and how willing they are to share their knowledge and enthusiadm. The artist who carved these fruits and vegetables studied at traditional art school for 4 years and then 9 months with a Thai carving specialist. All for a display that will last a day.

I'm headed to Montana tomorrow for another push on this project. My list of essential photos grows shorter, but further apart. The next trip after this one is Arizona. Talk about a wardrobe change. It's going to be 70 degrees in Choteau this weekend. I'm not thinking about the temperatures in Phoenix until I have to. Like Scarlett O'Hara, "I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow." Or maybe next week. Tomorrow I'm in Montana.

Gay Pride Parade float

The saucer swung over the crowd as the fat lady sang disco diva hits. The boys in the silver lame underwear danced. And then the saucer blasted of jet of white smoke...

... and disappeared in the streets of Salt Lake City.

Slate at 9 1/2 weeks

I passed a milestone today. I've written 50% of the first draft for the Highway 89 book. Even better, of the part I've written, three chapter are edited and pretty much done.

When I worked at the UofU, I went to a media training session with Ken Verdoia. That was at least ten years ago, and I often think of his main message: "know what you want to say, say it, stop." There's so much I could say about the advent of middle-class tourism, the mystique of the road trip, the reinvention of the west. But I can't say it all at once, and it won't all fit into the book I envision. I do know what I want to say. It's not a blank slate, so far (fingers crossed, etc.).

I did get some more tools for the second half. I bought the most expensive thesaurus at the big box bookstore, one with a hard cover. I gave up on the on-line versions. Visual Thesaurus is kind of entertaining, just not while I'm writing. I used up my favorite spiral bound pad (top binding only, please), so I got another. I have tons of pens (Uniball Vision fine black. If I could get the purple ones by the box, I'd use them instead). Even though I am loving the Mac authoring software, Scrivener, I output the first draft by long-hand. Writing with pen, paper and my 3x5 index cards narrows my focus to the question: "what do I want to say?" Then I write down the answer.

R calls this kitten the Great Blank Slate. He won't be working at the Genius Bar, that's for sure. Like Randy Pausch, Slate thinks he should be having fun. With my 3x5 cards, books, hair. Slate hasn't tried the keyboard yet (Mango loves helping R with his MacAir), but that's because he's too busy galloping around the house. Slate is easy-going, and he's only fallen off the sofa once.

They won't be kittens for long. If I can keep them from disconnecting the wireless and chewing up my notes, I might just finish this book before Mango is a grown-up, serious cat. Slate, on the other hand, lives in his own version of Wonderland--he's trying hard not to grow up at all.

Neon sign in Phoenix, Arizona

Now that I'm done playing with the ponies, I'm back to writing. This week, I'm cruising along the Highway 89 chapter on Tucson to Rte 66. That's where you will find this fantastic neon specimen. Wouldn't it be grand on the neon ranch, with adopted donkeys Daisy and Chrysanthemum (Yes, I named them. 15 animals were adopted last weekend--I hope the girls found a good home.) grazing under the glow of an expertly restored sign?

If this book is to be finished (and it will be), sentences must be written. Drive on!

Bronc rider at North American Indian Days 2007, Browning, Montana

I once read an article (source forgotten, probably Birding) about a teacher preparing her preschoolers for an outing to the local aviary. Long before the field trip, each kid was equipped with a pair of binoculars (two toilet paper tubes taped together and a yarn neckstrap). As the students lay on the floor, she had them practice tracking birds with the binoculars by zipping a tissue-paper bird along a string suspended above the classroom. When the kids got to the aviary, they paid attention to the birds the teacher pointed out to them. Impressive results for zero optical elements in the binoculars and the native focusing ability of four year olds.

If looking through a cardboard tube changes the participatory experience for preschoolers, how does observing events through the viewfinder of my camera impact my own experience of the event itself? This question has been on my mind a lot as I have been collating images for my talk at the Moab Photo Symposium. I didn't need my archives to remind me of the extraordinary experiences my Highway 89 project has afforded me. But at the same time, I wonder what part of the experience of being there I may have missed through the crystal veil of the lens.

Photographing can give me a shot of courage (I forget to be afraid of flying when I'm shooting out the window, even if the pictures are useless) or serve as a convenient prop in an awkward moment (as official family reunion photographer you can escape boring conversations with distant relations). Mostly, the act of photographing has given me the license and spunk to push to the front of the action with brashness that surprises even me.

But the act of photographing has never been neutral to my experience at hand. Framing, composing, creating engages a different set of neurons than just observing. I've written before that I become strangely unverbal while shooting. Even more peculiar, I can stand in the cold for hours and not really feel it until after the gear is put up and I start to get warm, long after R has taken refuge in the truck, which is completely the opposite of our regular patterns, say when birding. If the act of creating impacts this basic brain processing, I can only assume that other parts of the perceptual experiences change. I wouldn't agree that my perception degrades, but it is different than when I set down the camera.

The thing is, I want it all: the photos and the raw, unfiltered experience. Sadly, I haven't perfected my avatar such that I might do two things at once, so I make choices, compromises. Simply training myself to photograph with both eyes open has helped me to stay tune with essence of the total experience. And when I am lucky enough to photograph a singular event (like the Indian Rodeo at North American Indian Days in Browning, Montana), I remind myself take a moment to lower the camera from my eye, to drop the crystal veil. Inhale the experience: smells, sounds, fill all the senses. Engage with my fellow participants, smile, laugh together. Just be present. Breathe. And then back to dance with the Nikon that brung me.

Custom saddle-making

The Desert Caballeros Museum hosts an annual exhibition of cowgirl artists, called Cowgirl Up! I saw the 2007 show, but it wasn't up last month when I was in Wickenburg for Gold Rush Days.

After I made the photos I wanted, I had some time to kill before my next appointment. As I wandered toward the main intersection in search of refreshment, a pair of boots, embroidered with "Cowgirl Up!" caught my eye, as did the window sign that said "Karen Lamontagne" and "saddlemaker." As I opened the door, the proprietress herself greeted me, and we made a few photos at Riata Custom Saddlery before she sold me my very own cowgirl boots.

On Friday, I went to see not one, but two exhibitions showcasing the Utah section of Highway 89. It was a great opportunity to see other artists' perspectives on my favorite topic.

John Telford, one of Utah's most well-respected photographers, has about 60 images from his series, "People, Places and Things Along US-89" at the Rio Gallery in the Rio Grande Station. The photographs are traditional silver gelatin prints in a near-panoramic format. The format is an unusual, but effective choice: most of his subjects are environmental portraits of individuals who live and work along the route. The scale of the prints invites a close inspection, an intimate interaction with each subject.

I particularly enjoyed Telford's portrait of Merlin Figg of Orderville, maker of handmade caskets, and the Freeds, owners of the Lagoon resort in Farmington, shot on the park's carousel. I laughed at the shot of the Kane County sheriff dummy in the squad car, one that has slowed me down on numerous occasions. Telford acquaints the view with a fascinating slice of Utah: beekepers, knifemakers, and politicians.

Telford's panoramic views around Big Water and the Sevier Valley are simply lovely; I wish there had been room for more in the exhibit. Utah's segment of Highway 89 comprises about a third of the overall length of the 1,600 mile historic route; even 60 photos can hardly begin to cover the subject.

I hope to go back to the Rio Gallery on Friday, March 21 for the opening reception (6-9 pm). I hope to see some of my blog-readers there too.

Sadly, I didn't get to "The State Street Project: A Portrait of Utah" until the last day it was mounted. Eight artists interpreted their travels along the highway in collage, photography, watercolours and oil paintings. Because the show is going to travel around the state, I'll have more to say about it in another post, when you can go see it.

Reed Thomas's Quarter Horses, Mount Pleasant, Utah

In previous posts, I discussed the use of Photoshop's some blending modes for image adjustments: darken/lighten and multiply/screen. Today I am comparing four more blending modes: Color Burn vs Linear Burn and Color Dodge vs Linear Dodge (Add).

The Flying M cafe is in Panguitch, Utah

Today is another flying day. I said good-bye to mom yesterday, leaving her in good spirits and with a freezer full of home-cooked zip-locked meals. Today, I go back to the airport, to go to Big Sur with my husband to celebrate us. Our anniversary is Sunday, 8 years married, and almost 17 as a couple. So for today, M is for (happily) married. The flying part fits too - traveling together is one of our greatest joys, especially in the west. And every trip begins with his coffee.

If you find yourself in Panguitch (the gateway to Bryce Canyon NP), the Flying M is a great place to have a breakfast. Probably lunch and dinner too, but I can't share any experience on that point. I liked my breakfast well enough to put the cafe on my list of places to eat on Highway 89.

I'm traveling light this weekend - it's vacation for both of us, and that means he doesn't have to stand around while I make those "just one more" pictures. I'm taking the G9, one SB800 flash and some Pocket Wizards. And no "must get" list of shots. Just vacation pictures, me and my guy. Happy anniversary, R.

Cedar Breaks National Monument

I returned on Thursday to Phoenix to lend a hand while my Mom is laid up with an injury. I had the G9 out in the cabin while I read the manual with some deliberation. It's a testament to the qualities of that camera that I've owned it for almost 5 months, and I haven't HAD to read the manual. On the other hand, the effort to read the manual revealed a dozen features I'll be using shortly.

Not on the plane, because sadly, I didn't get through my own pre-flight checklist on the way out of town, and the battery ran out over the Oquirrh Mountains. I really regretted the spare being packed out of reach too, because for the first time, I could follow Highway 89 from the air. We flew right over Granite Dells, north of Prescott, and I could trace its contours southward almost to Yarnell HIll.

I spent 13 of 29 days in February on the road, so my progress on some of my 2008 goals has been somewhat slowed.

1. Get in shape 13 days on the road has not been good. I did military press my camera bag into the overhead cabin, but I can do better still.
2. Baseline mammogram for once, procrastination has paid off. Our health insurance has a special offer until the end of June: they've eliminated the co-pays on preventative care. Additional motivation to get that one checked off the list.
3. Find a publisher Three queries are out right now.
4. Learn to ride a horse I bought the necessary cowboy boots when I was in Wickenburg last month. An adorable pair, with a working sole, and turquoise stars on the uppers. When I get home again, I will make some photos of them, and tell you about Karen the saddle-maker who sold them to me.
5. Take more salsa lessons Done, but more of more would be fun.
6. Install CS3 done.
7. Establish a systematic keywording workflow Since I wrote the Lightroom posts, I've been assembling my keyword list in Excel. I'm going to need to be back at the ranch to move one.
8. Launch snappola.com I Still simmering on the back burner for a while.
9. Shoot the wedding dress remix still waiting until June, or July (when the snow melts!)
10. Make a Turducken scheduled with Millie, we are exchanging emails on the recipe while I am down here in Phoenix.

Nothing more completely crossed off, but I did get three essential topics covered for the book in the month of February. I'm scouting for wildflowers along the highway while I'm here in Arizona. Driving on into the month of March, 10 more months to go on this list.

The snowmobiling crew

Hey Snowmobilers: Right click on the pic, download the file (it's larger than the thumbnail shown here, 5x7 crop. Print it at Costco or your local one hour lab. I enjoyed meeting you all!

Google Maps view of Highway 89

I created a map of many of my favorite sites along Highway 89. It's a public map, so please feel free to add your contributions if you have a Google account. It's free and easy.

Sarah and Sam, Percheron draft horses, pull one of the sleighs at the National Elk Refuge

My friend Nancy and I really wanted good imagery of the National Elk Refuge, but neither of us had been there before in winter. We had a pretty fine excursion on the sleigh in the morning, but the light wasn't coming from the right direction. Even though it meant a late, late drive, we had lunch in town and went out again in the afternoon.

Bison and Old Faithful

Right on cue, this bison ambled in front of Old Faithful on Tuesday.

Ice Column, Afton, Wyoming

Can anyone explain how this ice column erupted out of the farmland alongside U.S. Highway 89 in Afton, WY? On the way to Jackson today, I saw three of them. This one was the largest, and spouting a bit of spray out of the top every now and again. Usually, I can engage in some fool speculation leading to a hazarded guess, but this one has me completely at a loss.

Entertaining guesses also encouraged, but please keep it safe for work reading. And if you actually know something about this, how long will it be before it melts?

More photos from last weekend's Hells Angels Prison Run in Florence Arizona.

I've had a lot of new blog visitors since I posted about the Hell's Angels Prison Run. Here are some more photos from the event.

What was I doing out there anyway? AZ79 from Florence Junction to Oracle used to be part of US89, before that segment was decommissioned in 1992. I'm photographing a book on the entire length of the old Highway 89. The prison run is a (the) great event in Florence, no way I would miss it.

Where does Highway 89 go? Nogales AZ to Piegan MT. If you've been to Grand Tetons, Zion, Yellowstone, Glacier, Saguaro, Bryce, or Grand Canyon National Parks, you've surely traveled part of Highway 89. It has to have some of the greatest biker roads left in America. One secret stretch is between Great Falls and Livingston MT, a back route from Glacier to Yellowstone. Would make a great side trip around Sturgis time.

How can I get the book? Be sure to sign up to receive an email notification when the book comes out. I promise I will not use it for spam or other evil.

Please don't hot link my blog photos to forum discussions or Myspace pages. It might seem free, but I pay for bandwidth every time someone reads your page. I've uploaded these photos to my Flickr account, so hot link from there if you want. Reprinting, editing, or redistributing these images without my permission would not make me happy. If you need them for something, just ask.

Hey that's me? Please get in touch if you are in one of the photos.

Thanks to all the riders - it looked like you were having a great time. Hope nobody got hassled and everyone made it home safe. Maybe I'll see you next year.

Hells Angels Prison Run - Florence, Arizona

Update 15 Feb 2008: more photos here

The 25th edition of the Hells Angel Prison Run slowed traffic on the old Highway 89 between Tucson and U.S. 60 to a crawl yesterday. When Arizona became a state in 1912, the spoils of statehood were divvied up: Tucson got the university, Phoenix the capitol, and Florence the state prison. Incarceration is the basis of the town economy, to the point that the federal census is skewed by the numbers of inmates. The Hells Angels have organized an annual ride past the prison yard, and the town cooperates to the extent of redirecting traffic and bringing extra help into the McDonalds.

Much of Pinal County's finest were driving the highway too. I saw the K9 unit, the commercial vehicle enforcement unit, the chopper circled overhead. They ran my i.d. once. I asked how many participants would likely spend an unplanned evening in Florence's accommodations, but that officer wouldn't speculate.

The Hells Angels were expecting between 1,000 and 1,500 bikes. I didn't count them. A vast comparison shopping opportunity roared by, if one knew about motorcycles. I called Millie, the motorcycle enthusiast neighbor who dreams of a Honda Goldwing, and when a dozen bikes blew by, I held up the phone so she could hear the engines. I had a lot of time on the side of the road while I waited.

I park myself at my mom's house in Phoenix when my Arizona locations are within day trip range. This morning she saw this photo and asked what I was doing in the middle of the road. I didn't have a good answer for that question, other than that's where the bikes were. She brought me up better than to say things like that, so I said we shouldn't discuss it. I'm editing the rest of the pictures before I show her any more, because I did have to cross the road more than once.

Seen on the streets of Wickenburg

Wickenburg launches its annual Gold Rush Days festivities with a gun battle in the streets, after the mayor's speech, and some other preliminaries that didn't capture my attention. This is the 60th year of the party. One of the speakers said her family had settled there in 1857.

Like everywhere else along Highway 89, Wickenburg is changing fast. The highway is being rerouted around the town. New gated subdivisions going in north of town, new zoning rules in the works for keeping stock have the ranchers showing up at the last city council meeting. Lots at stake, namely an entire lifestyle, which means lots to fight about. Hopefully not with old-time weaponry in the streets.

LED light show on the new light rail bridge over the Salt River, Tempe Town Lake

I hadn't heard of the LED display on the METRO light rail bridge over the Salt River before I got my private scouting tour of Tempe.. The trains won't be running for a year, but the bridge was in a full programmed display on New Year's Eve. Imagine that the rainbow pattern is snaking away from the viewer's perspective, slowly displacing the purple light. The new bridge sits between the original U.S. Highway 89 span (southbound Mill Avenue Bridge) and the Southern Pacific trestle.

I haven't quite figured out how to work the light rail element into the Highway 89 story, nor how I want to crop this image. I wonder whether the reflected lights on the left of the bridge were partially due to the New Year's Eve events, and will be less prominent when I return. I'll report back when I find out. This is a must-visit location for my next trip to the Phoenix area.

Bill Johnson's Big Apple restaurant

We returned to Salt Lake to find the front of our palace draped in plastic in an attempt for the remodel to proceed despite the weather. Two electric space heaters running all night added a grand 5 degrees above the ambient 17°F; the propane torches they guys rented the next morning were much more effective.

The space heaters, regrettably, run on the same circuit as my computer. Before the electricians sputtered in disbelief and took decisive, mission-creeping action, my computer, my office space heater, our freezer, porch lights and furnace were all on the same circuit. We discovered this fact when a compressor and power hammer added to the line tripped the breaker. Now the furnace has its own circuit. But my computer popped off three times before I unplugged the space heaters. The contractor and I reached a consensus that 5 degrees really wasn't worth the bother.

Before we left Phoenix, I hunted down some more neon. There are actually two Bill Johnson's Big Apple restaurants; this is the Van Buren location. The sunset colors started to develop nicely. The only problem was that the sign wasn't lit. So I went inside and asked, "what time does the sign come on?" and the manager blinked, said, "when I switch it," and did just that. If nothing else, photography has emboldened me to ask silly questions, often with great success in response.

It's a small thing, to step up and ask for help, but fear is such a huge barrier in art-making that any small victory is worth celebrating.

What separates artists from ex-artists is that those who challenge their fears, continue; those who don't quit. Each step in the artmaking process puts that issue to the test.

- from Art and Fear by David Bayles and Ted Orland

The book's discussion about making pictures, lots of them, in order to be able to make the pictures only I can make, has helped me rebound from innumerable failures and discouragements. It might be the best $10 I ever spent on photography.

New Years Fireworks at Tempe Town Lake, Arizona

Many of my dilemmas about photographing U.S. 89 have had the same solution: pay attention to what is right in front of me. I have wanted one more photo from the Phoenix area and I came down on this trip with the idea to get "it", and having no idea what "it" was.

I look for subjects that link the highway's history to the present, and especially stories about how communities along the route are reinventing themselves. The New Years football events are the big thing in this area, not something that I could find any angle of interest. That is, until through an unlikely coincidence, I met someone just this week who explained how it all ties to the highway itself.

Phan, Chi and Dennis

I once learned a field shorthand for birding, useful when the multitudes of species are flying about faster than one hand can write while the other is steadying a pair of binoculars. A simple name like Osprey gets shortened to the first four letters: OSPR; Bald Eagle takes the first two letters from each word: BAEA. Four words are shortened to first letter each, rendering Gray-crowned Rosy Finch as GCRF. The three word names start with one letter from the first two words, then two from the final part, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker becomes YBSA, and yes I have seen one-it is not a made-up-for-cartoons bird. The abbreviation scheme results in very few duplicates, none of which I can remember, all solved by an extra letter or notation in field.

Some of the abbreviations are amusingly apt: a TUVU is a great nickname for a turkey vulture, and the noise from a flock of Canada Geese sounds quite a bit like CAGO CAGO CAGO. I was thinking about this on the road, because I noticed some time ago that the National Park Service is using a similar shorthand on their website directories. It's a quick path to any specific park unit: www.nps.gov/code (lower case). On our journey southward, we drove through ZION, past the entrance to GRCA and on into WUPA. I love how WUPA sounds - perfect for Wupatki National Monument.

Like a mother, a book author should have no favorites among the parks along her highway, but I will confess a special fondness for Wupatki, and I plan my trips to Arizona with time to stop if I can. On Sunday, a full moon rose out of the painted desert into a perfect pink sunset sky. Here we met Phan, Dennis and Chi, students from the filmmaking program at USC (that's the Harvard Law School of filmmaking). Their project: a documentary on the southwestern U.S., in Vietnamese, for Vietnamese television. We exchanged stories. I made their photos. They interviewed me on camera for their program, then we exchanged model releases. How Hollywood, especially that last part.

Picture-making: Pocket wizards and my SB800, set on a wall of the ruin in the absence of a lightstand. Note to self: find a better light modifier for occasions like this, meaning it must be light-weight, packable, and yet not disperse as much light as the Lightsphere that I usually carry. No way my traveling umbrella set-up was going to assemble fast enough for the fading light, even if I had toted it from the car.

The students were running short on gas, so we followed them out of the monument to the first gas station over the pass toward Flagstaff They were heading to Santa Fe, while we stopped for the night in town, and another tasty meal at the Beaver Street Brewery (their bumperstickers sport a two letter code, BS).

Only now am I thinking how strange it would be to see myself in the students' film: I was wearing my red Santa cap, which looked about as silly as it sounds (worse in my eyes because it totally does not match my burgundy coat, but is effectively disarming when I am behind my own camera). I practiced hard at avoiding distracting hand movements and tried to make eye contact with the camera. But to hear myself dubbed into Vietnamese? Some things might best be left unheard and unseen--and R is glad I've put the Santa cap away until next year.

Condor with layered textorizer effect

I wrote a story about the day I photographed the condors at the Grand Canyon on my main website. I used the story text to make the textorizer2 file of the condor. It's a lot easier to read in the 1000 words section of my site.

Autumn colors in Zion National Park

Last week, I went to Zion to work. Today, I am taking my guy, my lawn chair, my cooler of Diet Pepsi, down to Springdale to relax. R's been on a mad race for a deadline since we came back from Montana in August, only slightly interrupted by a 130 hour trip to Japan (that would include the 50 hours of travel time). He deserves a weekend away. At first, I promised it would not be on US 89 to keep the focus on relaxation, but Zion is his favorite park, so that's the destination. I'll bring the gear, but without goals or expectations. Might see something different that way.

Don't sleep in

The second morning at Bryce Canyon, in which I did not sleep in, was even more magnificent. I moved around a lot, recomposed several variations, all the while the colors were getting more saturated.

I did not use the split ND filter, as I have not sawn off the tabs on the Cokin filter holder to make it so my 12-24 lens doesn't vignette. Instead, this image is a composite of four layers from three images (needed to ACR process the highlights in the clouds separately from the midtones, thus four). Even if I had MacGyver'd that filter holder, it probably wouldn't have worked, as the range of exposures is +4 stops.

Celebratory breakfast at the Flying M Restaurant in Panguitch. I've added it and my Springdale favorite to the Highway 89 dining list. A girl's got to keep her strength up.

Pinnacles at sunset

Glorious, absolutely stunning sunrise colors this morning, but I don't trust the monitor on this laptop well enough, so this will have to do. Afternoon light is challenging at Bryce, because the formations face east, are in the shadows early. The weather here never really cleared today, even at sunrise, but there were a few gaps around 4:30 so I went back into the park and saw this.

In between, I camped at the Panguitch library, which is small, tidy, and shares a space with the city office. Has wireless. I am becoming a huge fan of our rural libraries, doing a lot without much in the way of resources. Great places to write, do a little reading, sit in a chair other than the driver's seat between photography sessions.

I'll go back into Bryce in the morning. Depending on the weather, I will head to Zion tomorrow. Looks like it might snow here, just flurries, on Wednesday. Got to love the delayed switchover to Standard TIme - means sunrise isn't until 7:50, the most leisurely dawn launch ever!

I just posted Where to eat on Highway 89, and opened the page for comments, so please add your favorites. There are a few gaps. I don't tend to stop in Utah County, for example, because if I'm driving from the house, I'll eat before I leave home. I'm looking forward to trying your recommendations.

Snake Dancing across Highway 89, Afton, Wyoming

I arrived in Afton knowing where the high school was, and that a "snake dance," bonfire and powderpuff football game were on the schedule. Stopped in at Rulon's Burger Barn/Sinclair Gas station for some calories and information. Chocolate Zingers do not constitute nutrition, and the bonfire was built behind the teacher's parking lot at the school.

Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone National Park

Can you believe this one's been in the vault since the end of July and I'm just now getting to it? There was that issue with two completely full hard drives that I spent all day Sunday sorting out... Now I'm filling them up again, starting with the DVDs I made in Montana in July and August. It's shocking how quickly you can kiss 500 GB good-bye.

The Vermillion Cliffs from the Hwy 89 viewpoint north of Bitter Springs

I spent this week alternating among book chapter edits, the shocking backlog of Photoshop work, and the downright appalling backlog of housework. Progress, but no completion on any of those task list items.

I found a parking spot with a broken meter at the library on Wednesday. Usually I have to run out every two hours to feed the meter, since the truck won't fit in the underground parking. Without fear of the parking enforcement golf cart, I spent hours tracking down facts I wanted to double-check. How many people drowned at Lee's Ferry before the Marble Canyon Bridge opened in 1929? (Eleven.) Interesting things like that.

I photographed the images for this view of the Vermillion Cliffs on my Tucson trip back in April on the way to Flagstaff in July. I had to check the dates on the original files--I've been so many places since April, I can't remember when I was where. The final image is a 6000x4000 pixel panorama stitched from three images. I use Photoshop's Photomerge to align the images, but I select the "keep as layers" option. Then I do my own masking to make seamless transitions. It makes a bigger, but better file. I could wrap my truck with a print from this file. I could turn the exterior of my house into a billboard with it.

Housework gives me a head-clearing break from my computer. Or so goes the theory. I did spent time this week with the vacuum, the mop, the scrub brush. But then Nikon and UPS surprised me yesterday with the early return of the repaired D2X. Broken aperature lever, an all-too-common, non-warranty repair. "Only" $400. When I approved the estimate on Wednesday, the technician said it would take 7-10 business days, so I was somewhat shocked to open the door yesterday (48 hours later) and find a box on my porch.

It's back, it works, and I have pictures to make. Those aspens are going to turn fall colors from Babb, Montana to Flagstaff, Arizona. Actually, all the way to the Santa Catalina mountains above Tucson, but that far south is over the top. Even for me. Time to get out the maps and plot my next course. With enough down time so Mr. Mop doesn't stay in the closet until November, so I can finish that chapter, so my friends will remember my name.

My new license plates

These new plates did not arrive before the big Montana voyage. Too bad, I could have used them for 2950 miles of shameless self-promotion.

It has occurred to me that I am giving up the anonymity of my automobile. Not that I gesture rudely, cut people off, or drive aggressively, but with the closest thing to my name plastered on my vehicle at all times, I can't hide behind the tinted windows like many Utah drivers like to do.

On the plus side, it's a little gesture toward building a brand (me) and building a market for my book. It's not like the topic of US Highway 89 has been overworked, compared to say Route 66. Just today, I was writing about the segment of Hwy 89 that was co-numbered with "that other road," from Flagstaff to Ashfork. Didya know that in 1917 the road was so bad people would ship their cars on the train rather than risk driving to Williams from Flagstaff? It wasn't surfaced until 1926, and that meant a layer of volcanic cinder, sort of like a gravel road today. Didn't see cement until the early 1940s. Hard to see the romance in that.

Not much romance in fact-checking my text either. I keep pushing myself to look a little deeper, make sure I've got it right. Mistakes happen, but there aren't any writer's tinted windows to hide behind out here on the sagebrush.

I showed a friend my new plates yesterday, and he expressed surprise that HWY 89 wasn't already taken. That possibility had occurred to me when I applied. But now I've got them, and that's a fact.

Jay Polite Laber sculpture detail, north of Babb, MT on Hwy 89

One major target for the Montana trip was to make some images of Jay Polite Laber's fabulous sculptures marking the northern boundary of the Blackfeet Reservation. I fell in love with his work when I saw it last month.

His playful use of car parts as art material has a deeper meaning. The sentries' scraps originate from the wreckage of a devastating 1963 flood on tribal lands. This Montana Magazine article tells more about the flood and the "rez wrecks".

All up and down on Highway 89, I find stories like this one, of respect, reinvention, and resurrection--of the west, of our stories, of ourselves. I hope to tell them all soon. And to meet Mr. Laber.

P.S. if you are in Browning, MT, stop by the hospital (follow the blue "H" sign, it's north of 89) to see his absolutely stunning sculpture, Medicine Circle, in the parking lot.

Route 66 signage, Williams, Arizona

Another neon sign I found on my last trip to Arizona, made quite a bit earlier in the evening, and a better illustration about the "blue light special" than the previous post.

Everyone knows about Rte 66, but not Hwy 89. It is great fun to talk with the people I meet about all the reasons that 89 is the greatest western road trip imaginable. I'll do the list another time - today's interesting fact is that the two highways actually merged together in Arizona for about 50 miles, from Ashfork to Flagstaff.

We are in Livingston, Montana, in a cafe called the Coffee Crossing on Park Street. R has rated the latte a 9 on the R scale, 1-10 (only one latte has ever "gone to eleven"). Very comfortable spot, with wi-fi. We have done our half dozen errands, from finding a notary for some last minute SLC paperwork to visiting the flyfishing museum. Next we head off into the Gallatin National Forest to the north, brand new territory. And when I reach Great Falls, I will have traveled every last mile of US89, a milestone I am greatly looking forward to.

Neon street scene outside the Montevista Hotel, Flagstaff, Arizona

I have been accused (in a friendly way) of holding back my best pictures from my recent trips, so here's one of my favorites from the Flagstaff advenutre.

I've learned something about how to photography neon in the past few months. I've worked out an effective (for me) method that begins, like almost all endeavors photographic: arrive early. I want the beautiful midnight blue color of the sky, and three dimensionality to the surroundings. If I wait until the sky is that actual color, the rest of the scene is too dark, and the neon will glow in a sea of black empty space where a neon sign porcelain background should appear.

Just at sunset, while the eastern sky has some pretty colors, I am setting up, camera facing east if the subject permits. Over the next few mintues, the colors will slide off to the west, and there may be a lot of sunset left behind me but the eastern sky will take on a middle blue-grey tone that gradually darkens to that pretty midnight color. This blue light happens even if the sky is completely covered in clouds.

I start shooting as soon as the transition from pink to blue starts. Raw files, a middling fstop, tripod. I will try to set up an HDR file, although I almost never have to use it. I just watch the highlight clipping in the histogram. There are always a magical few moments when the sky and the light from the neon is in balance. That's when I start shooting like mad, recomposing, moving around.

Then I switch to west-facing. Repeat same process. There may be enough time to relocate a new subject, if the east-west angles work for each. The blue light special doesn't last very long, so good scouting pays off if I need to set up somewhere else nearby.

Post-processing: I adjust the RAW files to bring up the midtones, and to adjust the white balance. I keep the D2X on the daylight setting, but 4750K is too warm for that time of night, so I drop it down quite a bit, maybe to 4000K. If I were shooting jpeg, I'd probably us the white balance for incandescent if I couldn't set it manually. I may also sandwich two images, one deeply underexposed, and mask in only the neon. That's what I did here, to give a little more crispness to the tubes.

The guy never went into the bar.

Hay field below Glacier National Park, Montana

Guest blogger Millie tells about our adventure:

From Salt Lake City at the foot of the Wasatch Mountains and the edge of the Great Basin, to the end of Highway 89 at Piegan, Montana in the middle of the prairie at the border of the US and Canada in 5 days. Round-trip. Not too bad if you love road trips through the West as I do, and if you have the knowledgeable, talented, and interesting company that I had.

Team roping at the North American Indian Days INFR rodeo in Browning, MT

Millie's going to guest blog later this week and tell you about our adventures. Let me just say, 5 days, lots of miles, lots of shutter clicks.

The D2X rocks, that's one certainty in the midst of all the mileage and electronica. I reviewed some of the rodeo shots I made on Saturday, and the color, focus, and contrast are just gorgeous. I have done nothing to this RAW file, except resize it and a light sharpen (I don't sharpen in-camera at all). No saturation, no contrast. It is an sRGB file, which works better on the web for my tastes, but that's it.

The D2X is a beast. It's heavy. The buttons are spaced for a guy's bear paw, not my smallish hands. It does everything I ask. It's a beautiful piece of engineering. Kind of like some of the ponies we saw at the rodeo. Amazing animals, even more amazing horseman(woman)ship. If you get a chance to go to an Indian National Finals Rodeo event, don't miss it.

My Highway 89 book logo

I finished my logo yesterday and have been ordering paraphenalia ever since. I meet so many nice people on the road, and I want to have a postcard sized giftee in my bag for them to remember me and my project. Ideally, so they will remember to sign up for the email list so I can announce my publication date, when that happens.

Repurposing work is one thing I am very efficient at, so it didn't take me long to put the logo on a new CafePress site, and order myself and R a couple t-shirts to wear on the road. Walking billboards we will be.

Heading off to Montana today, out of the smoke and heat. The event, North American Indian Days of the Blackfeet Nation is just my kind of thing. And my friend Millie is going with me, to share the driving and the fun.

Mares and foals from Reed Thomas Quarterhorses

People ask me how I get myself into situations like a herd of horses heading my way at full gallop. Tuesday's first appointment is a good example about how I go about these things, if anything in my photographic life has a pattern.

Last year for the ongoing project, I photographed at the Mt. Pleasant, Utah rodeos - both of them, the locals-only friendly on July 1 and then two days later at the competitive events. On the arena wall, I noticed Reed Thomas's sponsor banner.

The Lamoni Queen

Isn't Jacqueline beautiful in her costume? I went down to Sanpete County yesterday for the project and met some wonderful people in Manti.

A few facts on the Mormon Miracle Pageant: 600+ performers (the town has about 2,500 citizens), 8 performances each year, expected total attendance is around 75,000. Most locals I talked to had played a variety of roles in the pageant over the years, perhaps starting as a boy as Nephite warrior, growing up to be a pioneer handcart tower, then into a major role like Joseph Smith or Brigham Young.

The performers, in costume, visit with the crowd while the attendees stake out their seats (the staff puts out 14,000 chairs for the weekend crush). As the first few stars come out, the 100 minute program begins, retelling key events of the LDS texts and history as seen through the eyes of a fictional couple, early converts to the church.

Not having seen this production before, I was naturally in the wrong place for a few scenes - the script runs at a rapid pace - but overall, I'm pretty happy with the pictures and grateful for the welcome I received. The biggest surprise (except for the flaming volcano set) happened after the pageant ended. I never imagined I would see a line of red tail lights snaking down Highway 89 in Sanpete County, much less at midnight on a Tuesday. This year's shows continue through Saturday, and expect a conga-line drive home if you go on the weekend.

Yavapai Point, Grand Canyon National Park, from the Highway 89 series

It's launch time! The new gallery for my U.S. Highway 89 book project is officially open. I've added many pictures that have not been blogged before. I hope you'll check it out, and add your name to the mailing list, so I can send the very occasional updates about my project.

My project schedule begins heating up on Saturday. Two trips to Idaho, one to Flagstaff, a quick run to Montana, all before the month-long northern voyage commences in late July. Now that the gallery is public, I am in the process of updating my marketing materials to promote my Highway 89 work. Hwy 89 bumper stickers, anyone? I'd love to get the 4-runner "wrapped" with a collage of my pictures, but the marketing budget doesn't afford that just yet. Sponsorship opportunities abound! Let's talk.

One of the greatest aspects of this project is all the people I've met along Highway 89. I am so looking forward to publishing this book so I can introduce you to all my new friends. See you on my highway.

Lost in time - an irreplicable scene

The last time I visited of my favorite project locations [above], I noticed that my subject has been falling apart. The right-most panel has tumbled off, more surely to follow.

My proposal sits with a publisher, a good one, one I would love to work with. While it sits, in that slightly comfortable limbo, I have been asking myself, "why do I want a publishing relationship NOW?" as opposed to next week/month/year. I've been self-motivating, self-directing, self-financing this project for so long, so why now? And I realized I have eight concrete reasons to formalize my project:

The divers light up in a three-blink sequence, finishing with a splash

I spotted this sign on my first December trip to AZ, nabbed the photo on New Year's Day during the second trip. I've been smiling about it ever since. When I found it (in the daylight) on my way back from the Biosphere, I had no idea that there would be so many neon colors. Or if it even still lit up.

I've started planning the next trip south, sometime in March. Have another neon sign on my mind, along with wildflowers (if it rains), and mariachi bands. A kaleidoscope of spring color, which I'm looking forward to while I'm huddled up next to my space heater, sending out proposals and writing sentences. The book project has progressed from preliminary to production. It's fun to say I'm working on one. Then I have to go work on it. And make my own splash. Blink, blink, blink.

Taxi from front yard to the Junction airport.

I met Bob on one of my earlier photo adventures - he's a former Navy pilot and Bryce Canyon park ranger, who has "retired" in Junction with a collection of fabulous toys and projects. Like breeding horses. A power parachute. And this ultralight.

Detail of San Xavier del Bac Mission

2010 miles from start to finish, Salt Lake to Nogales, and I am still making sense of everything I learned on this trip. Certain details stay with me, like this decorative element at the mission. Maybe I returned to it because I like spirals, or for the shadows it cast.

San Xavier del Bac continues to host an active congregation on the San Xavier Indian reservation, with an adjacent school. I visited it three times in four days. This morning I saw the nuns walking from their quarters to the school. The photographers weren't too thick, probably because it's not photo season in AZ, and because the church is undergoing an extensive renovation that "ruins" the exterior.

Still drawing in customers with this neon sign in central Tucson.

I've traversed Arizona from north to south on this trip, from Page to Nogales, making pictures and some new friends. I happen to love old neon, couldn't resist this one a block from my hotel.

Mutton bustin'

Mt. Pleasant hosts a two day rodeo, complete with bull-riding and rodeo clowns, for the Fourth of July holidays. Even with the serious riders looking for prize money, the hometown crowd gets to participate, and they start them young. Every kid got a blue ribbon and a high-five from the rodeo clown.