Printaphilic Phorum

October 16, 2019

#176 “If You’ve Ever Navigated On The Ear -i-e Canal.”

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay, Thoughts on Photography — printaphilic @ 6:28 pm

 

“I’ve got an old mule and her name is Sal. Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal…”

Working on time warp here… seeing how far I can push my vintage lower ball joints while carrying cameras along portions of the New York state Barge Canal bicycle trail.  Field photography comes with a price tag in arthritic pain these days, but it’s much milder on the bike where I’m good for a couple of hours over easy terrain.  My range on my legs is only a few hundred yards. 

It’s important here that I’m post processing on a newly resurrected quad processor game computer with much faster performance than my old machine.  Weeks of hardware and OpSys work went into this upgrade.   Great thanks to my son David Mutch for his old desktop.

The new machine allows me the time and HDD space to try numbers of variations on the same ex- camera – pixel sets.  The duplication is on purpose, partly to explore when color really helps communicate and when it’s irrelevant.   The heydays of the Erie Canal didn’t really happen only in black and white; it just seems that way because that is what we still have. 

 

I’ll see if I can add comments to the individual pictures.

 ‘Nuff for now…                                                                          Next Post:  Not sure when

I’d like to get in one more field expedition before the autumn passes me by completely.

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September 12, 2018

#168 Lisle Car Show

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay — printaphilic @ 3:17 pm

#168 Lisle Car Show

 

From the same wellspring that made me realize that while I’m surrounded by tofu entrepreneurs hawking ersatz ice cream, I truly come from a land-in-time of meatball Italian submarines, where, at least if you’re white and prosperous, the USA Rules !

The Mon’claire Mercery (sic) was as cool as it got…until you were ready for a pink Cadillac or a black Lincoln Continental.

They tell me that these days a lot of high school kids only bother to get a drivers license because they need an ID to get thru the door to the dance floor. Towns now have parked bikes where anyone with a smart phone can use them. I even know an ace car salesman whose bicycle cost more than I have ever* paid for a motor vehicle. It seems that cars are now the root of evil, burying our cities in spaghetti heaps of concrete, sucking the nectar from the deeps of the earth and spewing the raw materials of death into the everywhere air.

It wasn’t always so: Daimler and Benz may have started the wheels a’rolling, but America surely did become addicted to the open road…and the traffic jam.

6830BeepHornKickTires-©WEB

Remember…

“What’s good for General Motors is good for America.” It wasn’t always true…of course…but when we emerged from World War Two,  claiming victory as the nation least devastated…never mind the twenty million Soviet civilian dead who rolled up Hitlers master race under the ice of winter…our huge production of petroleum and ball bearings combined with a generation of veterans who’d grown up turning wrench time tinkering with jalopies into transportation. It made the car Our Kulcha.

6829SteamPunkBogusFun-©WEB

I won’t deny my name. It’s mine as well. If you don’t understand who you were, you’ll never understand who you are. The car meant you could drive away from holiday vacation enuie in one state, zip to a seasonally deserted Cape Cod B&B and be back in time for the New Years blast. You could find hidden valleys unknown to street cars. Everyone at least tried to catch the submarine races. You didn’t have to know how to read a railroad timetable upside down or make four connections on the buses to get to the other side of the county. You could go when you pleased*.

Well, maybe it did get out of hand. The corporations that built the Detroit iron took decades to realize they’d been thumped by former WW2 axis enemies who made more sensible designs and built them with quality control that gave them twice the life expectancy at lower prices. Still….

I was on my way to somewhere else in my 300K mile, 23 year old import when I spotted a bevy of shiny iron with open hoods…a classic car show put on as a fundraiser for the volunteer fire company of the little hamlet of Lisle, NY, suburb of massive Whitney Point , which you may know only as exit 10 in the interstate. Something made me stop. 

 Looking around I realized I was in the landmind of the  fanatics…and I understood *  

   

I mean…just the Paint Job !    

6806SelfieInPurpleFlames-©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of the gearheads seem to have a few screws loose,

6815MoparOrNoCar-©WEB

But then, there are some who really hold on to some values that we maybe ought to keep,

6793TonyInTank-©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

like this guy,

6805originalhoneymoonwagonrepaint

 

who borrowed his dad’s car for a date, borrowed it again to take the same gal on their honeymoon, returned it, and then restored it when he inherited it decades later. Still got the car…still got the gal.

6824DualQuadsBrightMetal-©WEB

6823BlownVetteBetchaQuick-©WEB

 

 

There was something hard to deny about the feeling  you could get by punching the pedal hooked to a big V-8

 

6810FourBarrelCuda-©WEB

 

 

Some of it had to do with just the snarl and snort of all that POWER.

6809StompIt-ItSnorts-©WEB

You had to put in a lot of paycheck and Someone* had to do the wrench time…I’ve done a fair amount myself after the inspiration of the Roadmasters Hotrod Club of my home town. McGlashan ? You still make ’em go FAST ?

6790BritSneaksIn-©WEB

Those guys would have loved the green monster in the foreground and might have chopped and channeled it before spraying that luscious color.  The British  invasion of the MG-TD came quite a while before the Beatles and the Rolling Stones.   There was a little German bug here somewhere, too.

The show car guys are not without some sense of humor.

6798FlowersForHalloween-©WEB

6801DeathFromPurplePlague-©WEB

But we have to remember the reason for this show…

6802ViveLaAmericanLaFrance-©WEB

 

 

A little village can have a hard time raising the money to field a real public safety  organization, but really need it, even when they are all volunteers, so…

6832HomevilleChief’sHotRod-©WEB

 

The chief’s wheels might not be the latest.

6821BestInShow-©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

But some neighbors will pitch in

 

6834HomeGroundAttack1-©WEB

And when the big horn blows the American iron will go where its needed.

‘Nuff for now:                                                                  Next Post:   Who knows when…

 

January 1, 2017

#155 A Retro New Years Eve…What Survives of the Past ?

Filed under: Thematic photoessay — printaphilic @ 4:58 pm

#155  A Retro New Years Eve…What Survives of the Past

Evidence of the first World Wide Web…radio

 

4241frontalpanelmodweb

4241FrontalPanel©WEB

For New Years Eve, to put paid to 2016, I was under house arrest following a supposed routine cardiac catheterization that went unexpectedly awry. I spent the evening listening to this radio whose resurrection has been a several months long basement project. If the occupational specialty “Marine Radiotelegraph Operator” still existed…(phased out in 1986) this radio in working condition would be proof that I earned my ticket. It was made sometime during the Second World War by Radio Manufacturing Engineers, Inc of Peoria, IL. There’s a well documented story of the service of an earlier model from this company with the Dutch underground throughout the war years.

http://www.ohio.edu/people/postr/bapix/rme69.html

No serial number gives a clue of exactly when this one was built during the period 1941 to 1945, but the radio is perhaps slightly younger than I am.

I got this radio from a very elderly gentleman who was dispersing his life collection at the regional Elmira NY fall hamfest last autumn. It looked terrible, but intriguing. The price of a six pack and a fancy pizza changed hands and the radio came home with me. I am truly glad there are no “Before” pictures to show its condition as received. It apparently had been stored for years in a barn, had serious surface rust, hay and mouse turds and an awful black paint job that seemed at least partly of roofing tar. A preliminary inspection showed that at least two different technicians had been inside. One was a real crude hacker, but another had carefully done a lot of replacement surgery of failed or deteriorated parts. I almost gave up when I discovered that the radio used “7-series Locktal Snap In” tube types, an historical technical dead end by the end of the 1950’s and quite rarely found today even in radio flea markets.

 

4235locktalweb

4235Locktal©WEB

4251mechanicalantibacklashbandspreadweb

4251MechanicalAntiBacklashBandSpread©WEB

 

 

Two factors made me persevere. The radio has a very unusual mechanical bandspread based on anti-backlash gears. They feel “Classy” under your hands. Tuning such radios is an analog pleasure difficult to communicate to the digital generation.

When I pulled the chassis out of the steel case I discovered that the black paint covered up a lovely light blue gray original finish that I can only describe as “RAF light camo blue” like the paint on the underwings of Royal Airforce Spitfires and Hurricane fighters from the Battle of Britain. I got to thinking that this radio could have been produced during the war by “The Arsenal of Democracy” on contract with the Brits or Canadians. The radio was offered to general public during the war in the USA at $110. (almost $1700 in 2016 money.) I have no real evidence to support this fantasy. I do know that the heavy hitter intelligence radios made for Atlantic allies during the war were Hammerlund Super Pro’s, National HRO’s and various Hallicrafters. The RME-43 is quite a good radio, but not in their league. It would have been highly serviceable in, say, squadron ready rooms or unit liaison.   The colors I could find in my local Lowe’s home store are not the original color at all.

http://www.colorserver.net/showcolor.asp?fs=35550

It was not my intent to create a museum grade restoration of the original radio. I wanted to getting it working as well as possible given my highly limited shop instruments, deteriorating eyesight and shaking hands no longer suited to fine under chassis surgery. I do want to leave it working well so that some other techie later on can continue the project.

4230basementcrudelabweb

4230BasementCrudeLab©WEB

Imagine my surprise, after preliminary safety checks, when I plugged the sucker in, turned it on and it made noise ! At first it took a local right wing hate/talk politics station to blast a signal through the front end and innards out to a loudspeaker…but from that point on I knew roughly what to do. Maybe I’ll tack a technical addenda on later for the few who might care.

There is a cohort of radio cookoo’s who maintain a tradition for New Years Eve called “Straight Key Night.”  when Olde Tyme operators talk with each other in Morse code and listen to their old radios as the old year goes out and new one comes in.  I had to push the envelope a little to get the RME-43 ready for this occasion. There is a terrific difference between the performance of an un-aligned radio and one that’s been properly “tweeked.”  Think of the difference between road a Chevy that’s been four years of stop and go traffic without an oil change or tuneup  and one that’s been stripped down to the crankshaft, blueprinted, polished and race tuned by a team that intends to win. I was unable to get all six bands of the RME-43 up to spec, but the four that I got working are quite good.  I made to see what might still be pulled in from the ‘ether’ as 2016 took it’s leave.  Tuning up from the bottom of the AM broadcast band a strong station in Buffalo NY was happy to report a hockey victory over Boston. Nearby Binghamton NY had really good country music with few commercials.  At 900 Khz CHML in Hamilton Ontario had an interesting hour long interview with a athlete who rowed a 24 foot boat from San Francisco to Australia…SOLO…NON_STOP.  It took him seven month rowing and average of 15 hours a day.  This was followed by a re-run of a 1948 episode of DRAGNET…Jack Web…”just the facts, mam. ”

I got a real surprise tuning at the top of the AM broadcast band where the stations all seems so crowded together. Unlike your average transistor radio, the RME-43  has the performance to separate these stations and pull them in clearly. There is now a bastion of local  ethic stations from 1560 (formerly WQXR, NYC) up to 1700 Khz where I heard Bollywood pop music, Jamaican funk and music in languages I can’t even identify. Cool stuff is there if you’re interested.

The real tests began as I moved up the bands.  The ham radio amateurs were out in full force and you’d be surprised at how many people consider Morse code a living language.  Religious station spend enormous power and money spreading different versions of what they all believe is the only truth. Radio Cairo, Egypt has wonderful music, but it’s hard to get their take on the news.  The same is true of Radio Hellas from Athens, Greece. The age  limitations of the RME-43 begin to show when you try to listen to modern single side band traffic in the military, marine and aviation bands. It can be done, but takes real skill and a while to pull these stations in clearly. I spent almost a quarter hour listening to gale warnings for the western Atlantic region from the National Hurricane Center in Miami transmitted by the U.S. Navy in Norfolk VA.  I finished the evening off with a 1949 episode of  “Nick Kelly, Crime Photographer,” but decided I needed bed more than listening to “Fibber McGee and Molly.”    “T’Aint Funny McGee !”  (My dad quoted that often.)   Sometimes olde tyme radio was really terrible.  If this is what making America Great Again means…I’ll pass on most of it.

Radio has always been a part of my perception of the universe and I even got to thinking of the historic roster of my life between headphones.  It started with a black bakelite Zenith I inherited from my little big sister Ivah “Bazzoir” rip.    “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?   the Shadow knows….bwahahaha”.

Next came a Silvertone three-bander my dad and I rebuilt as a bonding project. It worked. I built a Heathkit AR1…it was always squirrelly. I’ve had sequentially an NC-88, NC98, DX-28 (now there was a radio !)  an NC125, an NC 183,  A Halli S-43 (a true challenge), a Sat 800, an s-38C, S-38E  a S-86,  a 1943 Army Air Corp  BC-348Q (will go to a museum soon.)   A TS-440S is still in service.  Now there the RME-43.   Sometimes I think  when I die that it will just be the noise floor coming up in the headphones and the audio going down until there is no signal at all.

I sent out the old year as a marine radio telegraph operator.  I bring in the new one as a writer and photographer.  ? Are these occupational specialties already as obsolete as the rest of me ?

4250afterconsiderablecleaningmodweb

4250AfterConsiderableCleaning©WEB

Technical notes:   The good prior technician had replaced the power supply filter capacitor and quite a few under chassis in locations that must have required considerable dexterity to install.  The Auto Volume Control capacitor had been replaced with a very large one to slow down the AVC action, but that capacitor died of heat exhaustion and leaked oil. I replaced it with original spec.  I replaced the old power cord with a three wire grounded type required by current safety codes. I had to replace two precision caps in the alignment section that perished of old age. In the process I broke a fine coil wire that normally would have been repaired under a microscope. I did the best I could with 2x magnifiers and got lucky.  I’ve downloaded the DOX for the post war model 45 which is almost identical expect for the addition of a VR150 voltage stabilizer.  I completely re-tubed this radio and so have a complete set of spares. It can live on.  I’m still unable to diagnose why the top two bands will not align properly but for now I’m going to leave them for the next guy.   It’s an awfully nice old radio, but I still covet a GPR-92…outta my league…

 

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 Next Post:   It’s been a very long time since I’ve put the work into one of these efforts.   “#154, the Riddle of Batsto'”  is still in the pipeline. Eventually it will emerge.

4245rearapronweb

4245RearApron©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

June 4, 2016

#153 The Legend of Bodine’s Tavern

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay — printaphilic @ 9:48 pm

The Legend Of   Bodine’s Tavern

What’s This Say About Your Second Amendment ?

Reading featherweight histories of the New Jersey Pine Barrens from before the time of the internet, you’ll encounter, over and over, mention of Bodine’s Tavern, usually held up as a paradigm for participatory democracy in the young history of our nation.   It was founded by John Bodine shortly after he mustered out of General Washington’s successful Continental Army and run by his family until the mid 18th century. The site was well chosen, close by the bridge over the Wading River, first stop where the stagecoach road from the port of Tuckerton, NJ wandered west toward Camden and Philadelphia. It was also quite close to post colonial industrial settlements at Batsto, Atsion, Martha Furnace and Harrisville. These places were especially important during the War of 1812. They often don’t look like much today, but there’s some great beauty there if you’re open to it.

DSC_3817MODone©WEB Overlook At Martha Creek

DSC_3817MODone©WEB Overlook At Martha Creek

 

The easy histories tell of how the tavern was the social center for the not-at-all teetotal folk of the Wading, Bass and Mullica River basins, rather a large catchment.   It was the polling place for elections…you’ll remember that the electorate then were only land holding white males…no need to poll them in the school (what school ?) or church (which one ?) to accommodate the bone china teacup ladies. Four times a year at the change of seasons, all males, landed or not, were required to assemble there for military instruction and drill.

The recent middle school versions paint a picture of the guys getting together in the weeks before elections for a tankard of suds and to hear the candidates debate on the issues of the times…? should a harbormaster be appointed to record the location of moorings at “the Landing?”…” ? should the Freeholders contract with George Duneman to haul rubble for fill at that corner of the Calico Road by the bog where everyone’s wagon wheel sinks to the axle ?” “Why bother” says I, according to my first amendment rights…There plenty of room for all to put in moorings…there always will be.”   (the joke is on me…go there now and there’s places on the Bass River where you could walk across on the mooring buoys…) “McFee will do it cheaper” says somebody…” and better than a citizens levy.” “I got to be settin’ my traps then,” says another.

So, this is your paradigm of citizens participatory democracy…everyone gets together, puts in their 2 cents worth ( which might have bought you half a pint at the time), listens to the “experts” and if there isn’t a clear agreement about it, you poll ‘em and count them. It sounds like fun and we could do a whole lot worse.

As a patriot after my fashion I decided I’d like to go to Bodine’s Tavern and see what’s shaking there these days. It turns out not so easy to find. I had to read my way through a lot of old stuff, some of it printed with type that Ben Franklin’s print shop discarded as too worn out to legible.   Eventually, after half a dozen documents I deduced that it had to once have been a couple hundred yards upstream from a very new bridge between Leektown and Wading River.

I-564-03SomewhereUpRiveNearLanding©WEB

I-564-03SomewhereUpRiverNearLanding©WEB

 

On my last trip, a couple of years ago, I actually spied the spot momentarily while driving under pressure to make a reunion date with an old high school gal-buddy. I couldn’t stop for more than a minute, but there it was, for sure, I thought, the site of Bodine’s Tavern.

 

All that remained visible were very rotten pilings which once held up a wharf at what must have been “the Landing.”   The documents never call it Bodine’s Landing…just, “the Landing.” As I turned to get back in my car to sprint away I noticed that I’d pulled off the road in the parking lot of a current bar and grill offering a Friday happy hour special of burger & fries with two Bud or Yuengling 12 0z bottles. Not two hundred yards from Bodine’s is a present day Piney tavern. I decided I HAVE to go there someday and hear what the patriots have to say.

Enter the age of the internet. More than one place is known locally today on-line as “the Landing.” Two are about a mile apart and both could have been landing points.   Both show rotten pilings. One is so far upstream you could hardly move a kayak mush less a batteau full of bog iron. The middle site has no current tavern, but is a lovely, restful place at the dead end of the Martha Furnace Rd. in a state park called Bodine’s Field.

3769©WEB-Middle Landing

3769©WEB-Middle Landing

I camped there…imagining the 1812 patriots gathered around the fires with their muskets or wonderfully accurate Pennsylvania rifles.   Also camped there last week were a patriot couple in full camo. The guy had his Ka-Barr combat knife on his hip.   The state park dis-allows alcohol, so we couldn’t hoist a tankard while discussing current politics, but did sit by the fire for a welcome drink of cold spring water.  She cooked breakfast.

IMG_3774©WEB-We are tenting tonight on the old camp ground…give us a song to cheer.

There’s irony that the Quaker State had a reputation for weapons that could kill Redcoats at three times the Brit’s Brown Bess musket   range. (why is this ironic ? Name two WWII “neutral” countries who sold automatic anti aircraft cannon to anyone with Swiss francs…)

So this campground was the spot where the “Well Regulated Militia” met for quarterly muster.   Today it’s a government fiefdom with more regulations than you can shake an iron blade gun sight at. In one place was a 4 x 8 foot all weather bulletin board completely covered in fine print prohibitions.

The Pineys, however, are still not so easily regulated.

DSC_3869©WEBArmor of modern Piney Knight

DSC_3869©WEBArmor of modern Piney Knight

One of the most enjoyable times on this expedition was a trail bike ride on the land next to Batsto village. The trail was designed by a real trailbike fan and wound through a good variety of terrain where the route was chosen to be challenging but not punishment.

IMG_3729©WEB-Bike trail crosses firebreak

IMG_3729©WEB-Bike trail crosses firebreak

I’d there on a previous trip and heard firearms.   On the park map is a restricted area marked “rifle range” and I asked one of the park rangers about it.   It seems that it’s available by reservation to supervised groups of general public, but the primary users are the park rangers themselves and several stations of the U.S Coast Guard.

 

? Are you aware that the Coast Guard, descended from the Dept. Commerce Lifesaving Service is today an administrative division of Homeland Security ?   It makes a certain kind of sense.

As I pedaled along the trail on my bike I listened to the sounds from the range. I’m familiar with only a few firearms. I very well know the sound of a .22 long rifle. I can ID by sound a 30-30, a 32 pistol round and have heard, (and smelled,) a .44 Civil War Navy Colt replica and a big ass smooth bore black powder stick that’s supposed to knock down a moose. There’s a special sound made by three blank rounds of .308 fired in the air followed by the chiinngg of the empty clip as it’s ejected from the receiver of an M-1.

I listened attentively as I pedaled along the bike trail. First was what I’m pretty sure was .223…a quick, light sound, but with powder behind it, fired slow enough to be on target for each round. A pause…changing magazines…then the same gun fast and erratic, semi-auto… some threes, some sevens, then two and empty. The next shooter is a pistol, one round at a time, slow and steady…maybe some 9mm…not six shooter. For the next shooter I stopped my bike and just listened…three heavy rounds in burst auto…disciplined shooting of maybe a 7.62-51 NATO or 7.62-39 from an AK-47.   Those things don’t come in a semi-auto sportsman version. They may be illegal but I can point you at the door of two places where you can go in with five Ben Franklin’s and come out with an AK, a hundred rounds and change enough for a pizza and six pack.   Very interesting…who’s out there on that range ?

Then, something really heavy opens up…something belt fed, vehicle mounted…full auto…long bursts. It sounds almost ‘technical’…heavier than a fifty. Frankly, it frightens me. This is in my home state park. . I’ve heard many dollars worth of brass hit the sand.

I really hope this is my, and your, Coast Guard in training and not some dis-regulated militia wackos insisting on their second amendment right to do whatever they damn well please.

At this point in the story I run into a sticky spot.  As I would like others to respect my copyright I try to respect theirs.  If you wish an older conclusion of the legend  you can link to this document with this URL.  The intellectual property situation here becomes very murky.

    http://www.bassriverhistory.org/uploads/6/8/7/1/6871754/bodinestavern.pdf

   by Sara W. R. Ewing.  Batsto Citizens Gazette, Fall/Winter, 1967

Please ignore the first three paragraphs…they repeat aspects that I’ve come by in other places.  Ms. Ewing quotes excerpts from the diary of the Martha Furnace clerk.   They paint a most interesting picture of the well regulated militia.   All I can say here is that the Legend of Bodine’s Tavern changes a bit when you actually read the primary source documents.

DSC_3879MODLittleWaterfallAtMartha

DSC_3879MODLittleWaterfallAtMartha, upstream of Bodine’s….? where did they get the water for the beer ?

 

‘Nuff for Now:                                                                      Next Post: there are at least two more in the pipeline, but I’m unsure when I’ll get along with them.   Maybe next time I’ll touch on how delicious is the iron laden water of the pine barrens…I look forward to it every time I’m there.

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November 14, 2015

#151 By Request – – More From Shore Search Maritimes

Filed under: Thematic photoessay — printaphilic @ 12:42 pm

 

#151 By Request – – More From Shore Search Maritimes

 

Despite frustrating equipment problems there are enough pictures of interest from this road exploration to put up a few more views.

2982TonnageInboundCROP©WEB

2982TonnageInboundCROP©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The point of the expedition was to look at working harbors, both current and historic, and the maritime culture they represent. Limited time and resources prevented me from giving more than a passing nod to the Portsmouth/Kittery complex as I headed north over the Piscataway River bridge…A former high school classmate, Diana Hayes, has done some interesting work there…

 

2902PiscatawayCrossing©WEB

…next stop crossing the border and the St. Croix River at Calais/St.Andrews. The once vital building and shipping history there was almost totally vanished, leaving only a few rotted pilings below the tideline, a determined historical society and considerable natural beauty…

 

 

 

2796RuinsCalaisShipyard©WEB

2796RuinsCalaisShipyard©WEB

2810SunrizeOnMudflatsSt.AndrewsNB©WEB

2810SunrizeOnMudflatsSt.AndrewsNB©WEB

While based in the provincial campground at New River Beach my next subject was the working harbor of St. John…New Brunswick, not “NewfieJohns,” on the island offshore. The harbor is somewhat famous for the Reversing Falls, a tourist vista where the rising Fundy tide flows in and out of the upper harbor over some prominent ledge.   What actually dominates the scene, as in some many spots in the maritime harbors, is a wonderful view of an Irving Oil processing plant..I had a wonderful “Where’s Waldo” moment there watching a baffled white tail doe trying to figure out how the hell she got trapped there and how to get OUT !

2941SunsetWithHarborCranes©WEB

2941SunsetWithHarborCranes©WEB

2901ViewAtReversingFallsStJohnNB©WEB

2901ViewAtReversingFallsStJohnNB©WEB

… Business in St. John seems to operate on rather a large scale, making me wonder about the reverence for entrepreneurial small business startups. Can a major economy actually be run by nations of shopkeepers? Maybe…maybe not. Is anyone* minding the store while all this potash is being loaded for export ? Somewhere is a huge gash in the earth. Where does it go ?

2945EngineeringDetail©WEB

2945EngineeringDetail©WEB

2952LoadsOfPotash©WEB

2952LoadsOfPotash©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Halifax I wallowed in history…there is so much of it…many museums worth days exploring.   Two exhibits really affected me. Attached to the principle marine historical museum is a former ships chandlery, founded after the explosion of 1917 and acquired in the 1980’s nearly intact with its stock in trade as a donation from its former proprietor when he retired in advanced age. The current docent of the exhibit is the proprietor’s grand-daughter who, as a pre-teen girl, learned the business as his after school helper. She has been with the museum ever since and intimately knows each and every item in the store. She was able to trace within of minutes the history of one display back to its original 1927 invoice. The displays may have been spiffed up a bit, but they are original. Compare this with its contemporary…

2989StockInShipChandlersTwo©WEB

2989StockInShipChandlersTwo©WEB

 

I-832-45StoreSellsRealStuff04©WEB

I-832-45StoreSellsRealStuff04©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…As a formerly licensed radio operator of the U.S. merchant marine (A job that no longer exists…I never shipped under the ticket)   I was especially interested in displays of Canadian Marconi radio equipment and very curious about how their CRS-5 receiver would compare with our Radio Marine Crop of America AR-88…

 

2974WorkingMuseumDisplayCanadianMarconi©WEB

2974WorkingMuseumDisplayCanadianMarconi©WEB

3166MorseCodeForDummies©WEB

3166MorseCodeForDummies©WEB

 

…The tableaux aboard the corvette HMCS Sackville would have meant endless operator hours of listening Listening, LISTENING while the escort corvettes tried to outsmart German submarines while under radio silence. A complete station has been renovated to original specs for the Halifax museum and maybe will be operated on special occasions by amateurs on the ham frequencies. Canada held onto Morse code a little after the USA retirement in 1986.   CFH   (Canadian Forces Halifax) used to send the evening news, sports and entertainment programs in Morse to keep their operators in top line performance.

 

Halifax from earliest settlement has been a military town and I spent a good while exploring the remains of its past coastal defenses. The former Fort Oglivie is today Pleasant Point, a city park, where a 19th century battery is now a perfect setting for staging of   Hamlet…

I-830-11BattlementTheaterPefectForHamlet05©WEB

I-830-11BattlementTheaterPefectForHamlet05©WEB

 

I-830-15Rifled36LbCannonCa184502©WEB

I-830-15Rifled36LbCannonCa184502©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Its 36 pounder rifle is not going away any time soon, but more recent emplacements from WWII are heavily deteriorated.

I-830-07WWIICoastalArtillaryFiringEmbrasure03©WEB

I-830-07WWIICoastalArtillaryFiringEmbrasure03©WEB

Today the city has a more alien class of invaders. And retains a sense of humor as a cartoon tugboat reviews the fleet…

I-830-37HalifaxInvadedByEvilEmpire05©WEB

I-830-37HalifaxInvadedByEvilEmpire05©WEB

 

3108TheodoreTooTugReviewsRoyalCanadianNavy©WEB

3108TheodoreTooTugReviewsRoyalCanadianNavy©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2995PublicArtistHalifax©WEB

2995PublicArtistHalifax©WEB

3060BulldozerFerry©WEB

3060BulldozerFerry©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…time to hit the road again, but not before a fine seafood dinner, (Thanks, Lark) and   a closer look at a vessel whose purpose at first baffled me…

2932LuxuryDinnerEasternPassage©WEB

2932LuxuryDinnerEasternPassage©WEB

3118RoadTripEarlyFog©WEB

3118RoadTripEarlyFog©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…Given the state of Canadian maritime fisheries and its largely Anglo heritage, fish and chips abound and are nearly everywhere two quality leagues above of a Filet o’ Fish from a USA Mickey-Dee’s.   The strange looking White Ship turned out to a Landing Craft Very Large, capable of amphibious transfer of 18 wheelers and/or an entire engineering crew with construction equipment.

3009PostcardLunenburg©WEB

3009PostcardLunenburg©WEB

By the time I reached the postcard town of Lunenburg I was road weary and down to only one and two half-operational cameras, so didn’t do it justice… A most interesting event happened entirely without benefit of camera…what ? how can I prove it happened at all? In the provincial campground my next door neighbors this time were a Quebecois couple which whom I traded glasses of wine and coffee in the morning. As we were about to go on our explorations of the day a twin engine patrol plane in night time black camo and with NO unit marking nor insignias flew over our camp at rather low altitude before heading off shore on business. Spooky.

I-831-37DoriesOfLunenburgVerOne03©WEB

I-831-37DoriesOfLunenburgVerOne03©WEB

…Long ago I had a buddy who emigrated north of the border to work in the Lunenburg dory shop, which remains operational today. It’s planer was whining into late evening, still producing the traditional design of the Grand Banks boats from the era when Bluenose beat all comers in the race to market. They haven’t even updated the color scheme – – orange and green.   (Everyone knows that blue boats sink !)   Though enormously informative, the fisheries museum is somewhat a tourist enterprise. I was stunned to hear the museum docents talking union and strike plans. They volunteer while tourist dollars flow through the gates…by late season the glory of the job had faded and their labor action consisted mostly of totally ignoring visitors.

I-831-57TheresaLConnorWorkingDeck0203©WEB

I-831-57TheresaLConnorWorkingDeck0203©WEB

…despite the tourist business Lunenburg is still very much a working fisheries harbor with an honored visitor, the fisheries protection patrol vessel Fulmar, from the French territorial department of St. Pierre Y Miquelon. Lunenburg retains its viability partly because they have retained the highly skilled veteran smokestack industry of this naval foundry, one of a very few remaining facilities for the casting of marine brass and bronze parts.

 

3214TrawlerCapeSable©WEB

3214TrawlerCapeSable©WEB

 

 

3020LunenburgFoundryStillOperational©WEB

3020LunenburgFoundryStillOperational©WEB

3029FulmarVisits©WEB

3029FulmarVisits©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I blundered my way to Blue Rocks Island where I encountered a melancholy fisherman distraught on his last beer and though solvent lacking transport to the provincial store. I could empathize but not ease his situation. I shivered me timbers to behold the lone house on Blue Rocks Island.   It looked so lovely in the calm of August, but what a spot sit vigil on his vessel thru the darkness of a February gale. At least the Christmas tree was festooned year ‘round…with trap buoys…trek on to Pleasant Paddling.

3221FisherAtBlueRocks©WEB

3221FishermanAtBlueRocks©WEB

3219BouyTree©WEB

3219BuoyTree©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My last venture forth was a search for village called Scot’s Bay on the Fundy shore of the Annapolis valley. To get there from Lunenburg the main road climbs over substantial hills until the vehicle is heated enough to enforce a stop for the vistas at ‘the Lookover.”

 

3235PaddysHandFromLookover©WEB

3235PaddysHandFromLookover©WEB

3231ValleyFarms

3231ValleyFarms©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s really a stunning spot. WAY down there is what will be revealed as “Paddy’s Hand,’ and studying the farms before heading down toward the bay I was grateful to see that the farms are very diversified, never depending on one huge monoculture crop, but divided into half a dozen or more modest acreages with a variety of yield and hedged against failure of a single income. Once down in the valley for a closer look these farms prove very well tended.

I blinked and nearly missed the hamlet of Scot’s Bay.   In need of a place to sleep the night I went looking again for a provincial campground. It was closed and I ended up in the tiny commercial harbor of Delhaven for the culminating near mis-adventure of the trip. I met a naturalized Canadian Dutchman and his wife, in their early 80’s, who were waiting out the cycle of the notorious Bay of Fundy tides, which had just that minute changed to the flood. I decided to join them and walked about on the wharf taking pictures. To my utter horror I dropped overboard onto the Fundy mud twenty some feet below the notebook in which I had ALL of my notes for the entire trip. Disaster ! I ran back the full length of the wharf, took off my shoes and started a frantic slog across the mud toward the notebook, a mere fifty yards away. Less than halfway there I realized that the tide was making faster progress than me, and heard in my minds ear the refrain “You Can’t Outrun The Fundy Tide !”

In just a moment of reflection I decided to kiss off my notebook records of the trip and get my ass outta there!   A seventy plus year old guy cannot slog mud like a youngster, but I remembered a crucial piece of my education from the Lunenburg fisheries museum that exhorted   “Put your toes down first rather than your heel so your feet don’t get trapped by the suction…keep moving no matter what.” With this advice I made it to shore, exhausted, with the mud no higher than my knees and discovered to my delight that the Dutchman had jumped from the wharf to someone’s trawler deck and rescued my notebook with gaff pole.   Whew !!   No only that, but the couple heated water on their camper stove from me to wash off the mud and fed me fresh sweet corn before turning in for the night. About two in the morning at the top of the tide the crews of two of the vessels turned up to make ready for sea and we got to witness one of the finest demonstrations of small ship handling I’ve ever seen. A magic night in a magic place, but my Canon G-12 died of a digital brain hemorrhage…sorry, no pictures at eleven. Back to black and white on film…then…homeward bound.

I-832-33FoggyLowTideDawnAtDelvavenHarbor03©WEB

I-832-33FoggyLowTideDawnAtDelvavenHarbor03©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Nuff for now:  time to look after the antennas before winter                                  Next Post:   Who know ??

3172HuffDuffAntennaK181©WEB

3172HuffDuffAntennaK181©WEB

 

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November 5, 2015

#150 Shore Search Maritimes — The Road Trip

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay — printaphilic @ 2:21 pm

#150  Shore Search Maritimes — The Road Trip
Pictures from this expedition are just now emerging from the pipeline as a botched Windows 10 upgrade took about four whole working days over a three week span to correct. ? Don’t you love Microsoft ?
There are enough pictures in the “Top Edit” folder that I can only show a sample.

2912FairWxRoadTrip©WEB©WEB

2912FairWxRoadTrip©WEB

Longtime viewers here will remember Shore searches North and South, where I took my cameras and went looking for the evidence of working American maritime culture along the Atlantic seaboard. Both of these trips in years past were fine adventures in personal photojournalism. I’ve felt the adventure incomplete because two major areas have been left unseen, the USA Gulf Coast, and the Canadian maritime provinces. A gulf coast expedition undertaken properly would include, of course, NOLA and the Texas ports and the little known portion of the inland waterway from NOLA east to the Florida panhandle. This trip is simply beyond my current resources, but the desire to go north across the Canadian frontier has been with me for several years. I almost got away on it last year, but necessary repairs to my wheels ate over half of the trip budget and I discovered just a couple of days before leaving that I’d let my passport expire. This year I was able to get it all together and hit the road.

I was mentally unprepared from how great the routine distances are on the other side of the border. It’s big country, scarcely populated. My first base of operations was a provincial campground south of St. John, New Brunswick where there was nearly a mile between my site and potable water. Here began a string of photo equipment technical problems that plagued me for the entire trip. I took four cameras, two digital and two film. ALL of them had some technical malfunction that I had to work around in the field and spend hours digitally post processing for salvage. My camera repair bills were almost two months grocery budget.
The land, however beautiful, is rugged and not warmly hospitable. The fisheries that sustain it’s people seem often tucked away in villages like Dippers Harbor or Blue Rocks Island…long wanderings away from the nearest WiFi signal. Couldn’t you just go there via Google Earth ? You wouldn’t find this light.

3029LastSunRaysAtDippersHarborNB©WEB©WEB

3029LastSunRaysAtDippersHarborNB©WEB

From that base I alternated between seeing and feeling the natural setting…”Under ALL lays the Land”…and exploring the city grown up around the major harbor. St. John is a busy working port dominated, like much of the region, by Irving Oil. Their infrastructure is, in many places, deteriorating.  St. John imports molasses in the same scale of many cities import petroleum…read the fine print on the back of any rum bottles ?

2966TowToHarborMODone©WEB©WEB

2966TowToHarborMODone©WEB

 

 

 

My primary objective on this expedition was the city of Halifax, so I hit the road once again. I had to make a stop in the town of Springhill, Nova Scotia…”where often the earth will tremble and moan…”

3050YourMugShotHereTAB©WEB

3050YourMugShotHereTAB©WEB

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Springhill_mining_disaster
My fascination with Halifax is also historical. The city played a huge role in the allied efforts of both world wars. In December 1917 history’s largest non-nuclear explosion gave the world its first taste of what Hiroshima would come to mean.
http://www.halifaxexplosion.org/intro.html
Once there I again depended on a provincial campground across the harbor in Dartmouth for the only financially viable lodging. While there my next door neighbor was briefly a first nation Mi’kmaq man enjoying the Labor Day holiday with his family. We had conversation that convinced me that we need to listen a bit more to native American peoples for insight into the general nuttiness of our world.

3090WorkingGirlsEasternPassageTAB©WEB©WEB

3090WorkingGirlsEasternPassageTAB©WEB©WEB

East of Dartmouth I found the delightful fisheries harbor at Eastern Passage. It’s a fine blend of suburban bedroom community, blood, guts and stinkwater processing plant, and tourist attractions. Strange mix… I loved it. Symbiosis with good planning.

I-829-55Stability04©WEB

I-829-55Stability04©WEB

A modest town park preserves vignettes of the natural landscape and ecosystem adjacent to the fishery and attractions. Visual feast in the morning light…Yummy splurge seafood dinner with sampling local craft brews in afternoon…ice cream among the cone eaters for desert.

I’d allowed a chunk of the budget to hire a boat in Halifax harbor…the one item in Canada that cost way less than I thought it would. There is frequent, low cost ferry service between Dartmouth and Halifax and they don’t even charge extra for a bicycle. It’s the way to go ! On the Halifax side I half buried myself in history…you could spend a month in museums there ! The most important for me was the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic which, of course, centers on the working maritime culture as it was in the past…but in the present are a couple of actual ships. I had to take my hat off for this one. Without Canada’s corvette navy… would a starved UK been ground under Hitlers heel?
http://www.steelnavy.com/Sackville.htm

I-830-49FireControlWWIIAnti-SubMissilesHMCS-SackvilleBothUP©WEB

I-830-49FireControlWWIIAnti-SubMissilesHMCS-SackvilleBothUP©WEB

When printing this picture I couldn’t decide which version I like better. I still can’t decide, but in the digital realm it’s easy to have it both ways.
After a couple of days getting lost in the outskirts of Metro Halifax I drastically needed to get ex-urban and went to the lovely town of Lunenburg NS and then across to the Annapolis valley. Expect for these tastes

 

FundysShores©WEB©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll have to leave that part of the trip for another post.
I came back via some old stomping grounds in Maine

3260FishBizPortlandMe©WEB

3260FishBizPortlandMe©WEB

After a while the road trip becomes a little crazy

3123RoadtripMindbend©WEB

3123RoadtripMindbend©WEB

and I have to remember that there were places like this to be remembered…keeping firmly in mind all along  that I’m remembering the  glories of August and have not been there to face the gales of February.

I’ve beaten my Windows 10 driver issues to temporary standoff and have printed some of each of these pictures.  Real hardcopies made by me will be for sale for upcoming holiday markets.

‘Nuff for Now …leaves to rake, trees to prune                                Next Post: Maybe some more along the same road.

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3227EveningAtPleasantPaddlingNB-MOD©WEB

3227EveningAtPleasantPaddlingNB-MOD©WEB

January 24, 2015

# 146 It’s About Risk

Filed under: Thematic photoessay, Thoughts on Photography — printaphilic @ 9:25 pm

2361SwansCROPone©WEB

2361SwansCROPone©WEB

# 146   It’s About Risk…and benefit…and later on about privilege and even later about responsibility.

A couple of weeks ago a photography and art teacher I like and respect     http://www.jankatherphotography.com/ announced that she would be in a group show in Rochester, NY,  a town we used to associate with photography and FILM !  I decided I would go to her show opening to scope out the mainstream of academic photo-art.  Since it meant about five hours round trip on the road I would make a day of it spend as much time as possible before the evening  reception to do some photography for myself.  I’d even shoot some FILM.
The day and date of the trip was predetermined by the organizers of the show, so I made a place for the expedition on my calendar.   A couple of days before I noticed that my vehicle, a very venerable expeditioner,  had a loudly protesting alternator belt, and a positively bellowing exhaust note from a rotten muffler.  Should I make the trip anyway ?    The car has two alternator belts, and I’d once driven 1700 miles with no muffler at all…so I decided it was a GO.  I checked the official weather forecasts which assured me that I needn’t fear snow nor sleet nor gale nor gloom of night.
About an hour on the road it seemed that the NOAA weather forecast may have been a bit optimistic. Flurries filled the air and the cloud layer lowered.  I began to feel that this expedition was NUTS,  and began to have serious doubts.  I  was past the halfway point when the omens got UGLY.  I heard a little clink and discovered that a lens had spontaneously fallen out of my reading glasses. No glasses…no road map reading !  (It wasn’t really spontaneous, but that’s another story.)  A nearly microscopic screw had come loose from the lens holder and fallen into my lap.  The lens wouldn’t stay put without it.  I pulled over to the roadside,  found the tiny part in my skivvies and spent  an anxious half hour trying to re-connect it.  I could barely see the damn thing.  After all…I couldn’t wear my glasses and fix them simultaneously.  All the screwdriver blades  on my Swiss Army knife were huge by comparison.  I even tried making a tiny screwdriver out of a paperclip.  Finally, after near despair,  I thought outside the box sufficiently to just wrap the damn assembly in a rubber band and start back on the route. But by now I was really spooked.

2338CharlotteGenesseeLightMOD©WEB

2338CharlotteGenesseeLightMOD©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here I was, driving a 2 1/2 hour leg in deteriorating winter weather in a voting-aged 265,000 mile vehicle making ominous noises.  Am I NUTS ?  Why am I doing this ?  What can I possibly gain from risking a car  I can barely afford to repair, much less replace.  If this sucker dies on the road it will cost more than a months income to get home…and this, just to see a selection of photos on a college art gallery wall ?  What kind of Wacko does this ??
The privilege of my situation came flooding over me.  I can take a whole day…commit resources like a third of a year for a family in agrarian societies just on this wacko whim to see a few pictures of the world… and make a few as crutches for my memory as the ones in my brain case begin to slip away.   As for taking pictures on  my own , I could almost as well have cruised the ground using Google Earth rather than driving all this way in person.  How can I justify this ?   I’m using my privilege.  I’m committed now, but what kind of responsibility goes along with it ?

I’m coming inexorably to feel that all privilege comes with responsibilities that sometimes we can’t understand.
When I found I was unable to address this vast a question I was entering the suburban outskirts of the metropolis, had traffic to deal with, and could only feel that for some reason I really* wanted to see the show and might as well follow the plan I’d made a few day earlier…using Google Earth.  BUT…something is compelling me to actually be there…not looking through the insect eyes of the Google Cruisers, but through my own.
I successfully navigated to my first of four possible sites of interest, a park at the narrows where Irondequoit Bay joins Lake Ontario.  What I found  was far more interesting than what I’d been able to see using Google Earth.  There’s a seasonal bridge to the other side of the bay (interesting engineering ),  a gaggle…not a google…of geese trying make the best of the day,  a fine ice covered sand  beach and a fine, scrupulously clean,  all year round hamburger grill and ice cream stand feeding a gaggle of old foggies  (sp?) like me.  The ominous weather had found some other locale to intimidate, and I wandered, taking pictures until cold enough for hot chocolate.

I-819-45IceOnRocksIrondiquoit05©WEB

I-819-45IceOnRocksIrondequoit05©WEB

 

I-819-39FieldOfIceFlowsAshore02©WEB

I-819-39FieldOfIceFlowsAshore02©WEB

The second possible photo site turned out barren…It had looked so interesting on the web,  but I moved on to the Port of Rochester, thinking it might add to my theme of working waterfronts.  It may yet, but currently it’s  closed for the season and largely icebound.  The ice became the focus, and gradually revealed hidden threads in the cables of my thought.

I-819-55BendOnIceRoad05©WEB

I-819-55BendOnIceRoad05©WEB

Stories have  been explored about the Inuit native peoples notion that when a person becomes  too old and perhaps too weak to carry their fair share of the tribal community’s work,  a time comes when they are obliged to go out walking on the ice…a journey from which they may never return.   This idea has even found its way into North Sea European folklore…to go out on the ice in joyous spirit of exploration even when it may well mean individual death…from cold, weakness, laying down to take a final rest, then sleep with no awakening.   This is the responsibility that follows on the privilege of living in the warmth of the tribe.   I don’t necessarily buy this 100%, but I can’t ignore it.
At the mouth of the Genessee I didn’t realize the metaphor I walking until I was well out on the rather long jetty to the outer light marker.

I-819-65BeginningIceRoad03©WEB

I-819-65BeginningIceRoad03©WEB

It started with just a tiny slip close to land when I wasn’t yet even out beside the field of jumbled floes. For milliseconds my feet are disconnected from the earth.  The ice was lovely, a moonscape with stellar reflections for highlights.  But, that tiny slip reminded me that I’m no longer an agile thirty something…that every step risked a fall that could dislocate a joint or crack a knee.  In a very minor way I’d embarked on the ice road.   I was standing on a twelve foot wide concrete and steel pier, and wire rope lifelines were threaded thru stanchions only a few feet apart, but the further from shore I got the less was the dominion of human engineering and more the realm of the ice.

I-819-53IceOnLifeline04©WEB

I-819-53IceOnLifeline04©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once I slipped and grabbed the lifeline with both well gloved hands and easily recovered my footing before noticing that the spacing of the lower line was such that someone…surely not me… could slide under it, over the edge and into the freezing lake where their shocked  life expectancy would be a handful of minutes.  Rescue ladders were few and far between.   Sometimes the footing was the most treacherous right beside the handlines, forcing the choice of walking unsupported in the middle.   At least the pier was not a ship’s deck rolling and pitching in a seaway.  Something*  was making me go further and further out. Something* gave me long pause at a break in the web of the lifelines where it would be possible to get off* the pier and actually out onto the ice itself !

I-819-67GatewayToLandOfIce04©WEB

I-819-67GatewayToLandOfIce04©WEB

 

2357SprayIncoming©WEB

2357SprayIncoming©WEB

 

?  Were those packed, jumbled floes floating on the lake or resting on the bottom of a shelving shore.?  Looking back, I had between me and the park maybe half a mile of  what the Shackleton and the tragic Scott expeditions had faced for days on end.   I got close enough to the outer light to know that I was close enough !

2351EndIceRoad©WEB

2351EndIceRoad©WEB

 

I wasn’t required to risk the last fifty yards.   There was nothing more to be gained, and the distance back was near the limits of my arthritic hips.   On the way back to shore I passed a courting couple…walking out for a lark.   Young bones and reflexes are not old ones.   I’d risked far more.   It was worth it…What’s out there on the ice is NOT on Google Earth.

I-819-51SparyOnIceCharlotteThree03©WEB

I-819-51SprayOnIceCharlotteThree03©WEB

2361SwansCROPpixels©WEB

2361SwansCROPpixels©WEB

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I-819-57EndOfIceRoad01©WEB

I-819-57EndOfIceRoad01©WEB

2341.USCGstationRochesterjpg©WEB

2341.USCG stationRochester©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

? The show…?   Oh yes, the show….it was fine…lots of photographer looking at mirrors.   One picture, seen thru a window, was chilling….human teeth scattered on the ground in the Cambodian killing fields.

 

‘Nuff for now:

     Next Post:   It may be a few weeks before the next effort.  I’m still in writers block on two pieces in the pipeline and have to take some time off for some medical tinkering.

 

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November 29, 2014

#142 The Wizard Returns, Then and Now

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay, Thoughts on Photography — printaphilic @ 10:56 am

#142 The Wizard Returns, Then and Now

 

Minus017-01WizardInGarbageland03©WEB

Minus017-01WizardInGarbageland03©WEB

Just a few months shy of 50 years ago I began a project that came to be called “The Wizard In Garbageland.” It was a photoessay about the New Jersey meadows shot mostly during the spring term of 1965 while I was studying ‘photojournalism’ ( a class that had nothing to do with the real shoulder monkey) with the late Joseph Briechtenbach at the New School For Social Research in NYC.

Minus018-17YachtClubDogsGreenPointHoboken05©WEB

Minus018-17YachtClubDogsGreenPointHoboken05©WEB

 

Minus018-85OldBulldog06©WEB

Minus018-85OldBulldog06©WEB–Enduring Mack truck.

I’d wandered around the meadows region with my friend Z. Arktos and our cameras both before and after the New School spring term and it has been our intent ever since to return to work on this again . A half century of life has intervened. Our life ties are now elsewhere. I had no idea at the time that as an august a true photojournalist as Bruce Davidson was working on the same subject at the same time…a minor parenthesis in his vitea.

2112SawtoothRoof©WEB

2112SawtoothRoof©WEB–A feature of old style industrial architecture to maximize natural north  light and optimize heating and cooling by sun and wind.

 

 

Minus018-67SecurityHole03©WEB

Minus018-67SecurityHole03©WEB

The entire region of northern New Jersey east of the Watchung ridge was regarded by sophisticated society as a vast cesspool…a charge not without foundation. The mineral, chemical and biological trashing of the region had proceeded, heedless, for a century. The environmental movement of the time probably just wrote the area off as a lost cause. Near the end of the century Robert Sullivan’s wonderful 1998 account of his explorations, “The Meadowlands,” (ISBN 0-684-83285-2) shows some signs that people were waking up to the importance of the region and we began to hear tales of artists lofts in former slaughterhouses and luxury housing with sunset views of the Manhattan skyline rising from the asbestos laden ashes of the Todd Shipyard in Hoboken.

Minus020-71GreenPointYClongShot03©WEB

Minus020-71GreenPointYClongShot03©WEB

In 1965 I was working with a Leica IIIf with 50mm Summitar lens for B&W (obsolete even) and the groundbreaking Nikon F with it’s awful 43-86mm zoom lens for various color slide films. Almost none of the color slides survived poor storage conditions seemed to actively encourage emulsion eating fungus growth. The B&W negatives, processed in various kitchens and bathrooms, fared only somewhat better. They have required extensive digital reconstruction after scanning.
Looking back at that old student work I’m heartstricken that I, at the time, so badly missed the point. I photographed the pollution, the garbage, the industries, the economic foundations of the metropolitan area, curiosities and such pockets of natural beauty as I could find, but Utterly Clueless, I did almost nothing interactively with the people I encountered there. There were a few exceptions. I realized the omission just a week or so before the term project was due…too late to shift emphasis. Now, much of that society is utterly gone.

Minus026-44NapTimeInRailroadYMCA04©WEB

Minus026-44NapTimeInRailroadYMCA04©WEB

 

Minus018-69GuysAtThePlant04©WEB

Minus018-69GuysAtThePlant04©WEB

During my most recent trip to New Jersey there was no option to go looking for interaction with people. The trip was already drastically over budget for time, money and metabolic energy; I had but hours and half a tank of gas before the need to beeline for home.

 

2075UnderBellevillePike©WEB

2075UnderBellevillePike©WEB

2074NewarkFromBellevillePike©WEB

2074NewarkFromBellevillePike©WEB

 

2076ArtUnderPike©WEB

2076ArtUnderPike©WEB

 

 

 

 

Still the comparisons were interesting. I spent my budget in the town of Harrison, interesting because it was an area I’d under-explored half a century ago that then contained some of the most dense concentration of fundamental industry on which the economy of the greater New York metropolitan area so heavily depended. What will it do now ? Also of interest, then and now, were the bridges connecting the City of Newark by rail lines to New York City. What had become of them…how had they fared ?

 

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Minus023-17RRliftBridges@Kearny04©WEB

 

 

Minus023-17RRliftBridges@Kearny04©WEB  2114HouseAboveRooftops©WEB

2114HouseAboveRooftops©WEB
http://www.en.wikipedea.org/wiki/Dock_Bridge

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In the different world of 1965 we were ignored while wandering around such places with our cameras, but on this trip, using a “prosumer” digital SLR and some serious looking lenses, I was thoroughly vetted by a security agent after ignorantly pointing my lens a Federal office building.  After a few initial questions convinced him I was no terrorist this contractors agent was outright friendly and told me lots about the history of the bridge. I was astounded to discover that it’s still considered so vital to the area transport infrastructure that it’s currently undergoing a major overhaul to remain in service another 50 or more years.

2127TrollEyeView©WEB

2127TrollEyeView©WEB

2120PensyRRbridgeOverPassiacR©WEB

2120PensyRRbridgeOverPassiacR©WEB

 

 

 

Not all the area is held so esteemed. Vast areas are in progress of condominization.

2099CondoizationHarrison©WEB

2099CondoizationHarrison©WEB

At least in the hours I could explore, all traces of working waterfronts seemed utterly gone.

 

 

 

Minus020-04CommercialVesselOnHackensack©WEB

Minus020-04CommercialVesselOnHackensack©WEB–~1970. “Black Cloud” of ‘St. Pete’, FLA  ? What was her cargo ?

In past years of riding commuter trains from the suburbs further inland across the meadows to Ferry crossings to Manhattan made me familiar with some of the basic industries. The ferry boats are long gone; you take “the Tubes.”

 

 

 

 

 

Minus026-35GravelBargesOnHackensack03©WEB

Minus026-35GravelBargesOnHackensack03©WEB

Minus025-72StacksAndTanks06©WEB

Minus025-72StacksAndTanks06©WEB

Minus018-75AbandonedPRRferryTerminalJerseyCity01©WEB

Minus018-75AbandonedPRRferryTerminalJerseyCity01©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In this place my grandfather and great uncle loaded lumber on a one horse buckboard and hauled it to a building site in Nutley.Minus026-50KoppersCoke03©WEB

 

Minus026-50KoppersCoke03©WEB

2147FuelStorageOffMcCarterHwy©WEB  In this place my grandfather and great uncle

loaded lumber on a one horse buckboard and hauled it to

2068AbandonedIndustrialSpur©WEB

2068AbandonedIndustrialSpur©WEB

2142RootsEatConcrete©WEB

2142RootsEatConcrete©WEB

a building site in Nutley, NJ

2153WarehouseBecomesParking©WEB

2153WarehouseBecomesParking©WEB

 

 

44BasculeBridgeOpen©WEB

44BasculeBridgeOpen©WEB — Open, abandoned, maybe never to be used again.

It’s clear that many of these industries were environmental bad actors. A great deal of labor strife accompanied their prosperity. The often nameless and incomprehensible forces of the economy move on. Clearly the financial world feels that society needs the condo housing which is taking over the area. All the people will still need jobs…what will they do in the future when all the basic industries have moved off shore and there’s a great Red Bull of a sports stadium where the jobs used to be. ? Sell hot dogs ??

 

Minus026-36FireIn YardDunnage05©WEB

Minus026-36FireIn YardDunnage05©WEB

Minus020-57AlongPennzyMainline06©WEB

Minus020-57AlongPennzyMainline06©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Minus026-61MainlineThruMeadows02©WEB

Minus026-61MainlineThruMeadows02©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Minus022-67Lanterns02©WEB

Minus022-67Lanterns02©WEB

 

‘Nuff for Now: another job calls me away.                                               Next Post: There’s a really extensive piece in the pipeline about industry in the New Jersey Pine Barrens from colonial and revolutionary times forward.  It may be weeks before it’s finished.

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2086PipelineParallelPike©WEB

2086PipelineParallelPike©WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

October 22, 2014

#140 Maybe I’ll Get Back To Trying To Make Sense Of It All, But Now…Off to New Jersey

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay — printaphilic @ 8:10 pm

#140 Maybe I’ll Get Back To Trying To Make Sense Of It All, But Now…Off to New Jersey

Before the Columbus Day weekend I took a nearly week long trip for field operations in New Jersey, both in the town where I grew up and in southern parts of the state which inspire the locales of my photo-roman in progress, and stock for editorial themes.  Altogether I shot about  3  gigabytes of pictures and made volumes of audio notes.  It will be a while until I can process and publish them all in small packets.

One primary reason for the trip was the gathering of the Montclair High School class of 1959 for our  55th reunion.  I avoided these reunions for years until I went to the 40th and discovered what fun it could be.  I’ll try to get back in the swing of regular posting with a few pictures colored outside the lines from the reunion.  One of our classmate spouses  (plural ‘spice’ ? ) took bazillions of pix of our people in various groupings, so I decided to follow the school of “Silent Witness,”  where no people appear.

We’ll start with a view everyone from any Montclair class will remember…

 

EdgemontMemorialWEB

EdgemontMemorialWEB

 

 

 

©1978FormerSmallBusinesSitesWEB

FormerSmallBusinesSitesWEB

 

…But who can recall what local businesses got their modest start in these garage bays.

…Boys who played little league ball…Can you remember the old backstop that  once was here ?     Which was your team and position ?

LittleLeagueBallFieldTodayWEB

Where were you going when you passed thru the Walnut St. underpass?

 

 

 

UnderWearyErieWEB

UnderWearyErieWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reunion itself was drenched in memory and it was truly fitting that the committee  chose Eagle Rock Park, which overlooked the devastation of 911, and has a collection pointers to that tragedy,  for a ceremony recounting the names of classmates who have pre-deceased us.  We are of an age when they become more frequent and numerous.

 

Origina911SteelAtEagleRockMemorialWEB

Origina911SteelAtEagleRockMemorialWEB

The reading of the names and sounding the gong…this time for our own.

ClassOf1959At911MemorialWEB

ClassOf1959At911MemorialWEB

MoreNamesInBlackStoneWEB

MoreNamesInBlackStoneWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The banquet space, a former speakeasy resurrected from ruins, looked out to that spot where people watched the New York skyline, and the world, change forever.

It’s a very classy place today…classy enough for our class of ’59 to talk,  feast and PARTY.

©2047ViewFromBanquetHallWEB

ViewFromBanquetHallWEB

 

©2049WonderfulDeeJayWEB

WonderfulDeeJayWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Would you believe our DeeJay could get these old fossil bones of mine out on the dance floor for “That Good Old Rock an’ Roll Music.”    He did, and more.

 

 

‘Nuff for Now:    I’ll be trying to post on other aspects of the trip as time goes along. Perhaps I’ll even get back to trying to make sense of it all.

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June 21, 2014

#137 Adirondack’s, June ’14

Filed under: Just gotta say it., Thematic photoessay, Thoughts on Photography — printaphilic @ 7:14 pm

©0944MorningMistWEB

©0944MorningMistWEB

©0950OlympicTrainingLakePlacidWEB

©0950OlympicTrainingLakePlacidWEB

#137    Adirondack’s,   June ’14

There’s been a lot of water over the falls since I last put up a substantive post here.  Life has been a succession of putting out metaphorical fires…collapsing vehicles, financial hassels, health concerns, seasonal agri-busy-ness and trying to prepare for the unknown in a future of inevitable change.   There’s also been existential angst regarding the place of a photographer in a world where the supply of images rapidly approaches infinity and the price approaches zero.   Is my art of photography still in me ???

Thanks to grants from a private Boston collector and arts patron,  and from family,   a few expeditions this season are now in the realm of possibility.   My dying old expedition partner, Ove the Volvo, was collapsing of terminal rust when one day I returned from a trip to town and found Silver Dragon, a younger,  far less rusty,  Volvo wagon waiting in the drive…challenging me to get off my butt and out in the fields with full camera gear.

I’ve wanted to work further on my series about working waterfronts and have a powerful hankering to see Halifax harbor…so rich in shipping history in the passing century.   But,  I needed to field prove the new vehicle before taking off for a foreign country, so I decided on a shakedown cruise to the Adirondacks of upstate New York where there is rich material on the theme of industrial archaeology.    I got some clues from online research,  set a timetable and budget and took off…to see if my Art of  Photography was still in me.   I’ve come back with more than 330 digital files, half an hour of audio notes and seven rolls of B&W film.

Now I have to see if I can make sense of them.   WAY !! too many to post in a coherent narrative.  

The art of photography to me has mostly meant going out exploring in the world, rather than making something to hang,  framed, on a wall.  Going out exploring in the world means something rather different to a 73 year old fossil like me, with crappy ball joints and almost no discretionary funds than it would to, say,  a kid on a trust fund just out of J-school or say,  Don McCullen setting off to a war zone leaving a wife and three kids depending on him coming back alive with the mortgage payments.   Peeps at the Maine Photo Workshops used to say of photos   “the negative is the score…the print is the performance.”    To me hearing the music in the inner mind means going out in the world and seeing what you see.  You write it down with expensive techie tools.    So, where’s the music ?

Road Log Transcribed — Adirondack’s, June ’14

Friday the Thirteenth, June 2014. 10:00:00 am start log Trip to Daks. Miles 257,799.1 trip miles 546.1. WX cloudy w/intermittent light rain. 10:23 am 7818.0 spring @ Lisle fill water bottles. !0:51 7822. 4 food and fuel at Whitney Point. Sawmill twixt Whitney Pt. and Green. Green antique mall out of business. 12:21 7850.1 Clear Bainbridge.

Walton… Delaware County Fair will be 11-16 Aug this year.   Old armory is now a night club.   Back streets Walton very like Bay Head. 1:50pm clear Walton. Agriculture seems prosperous in Delaware County in the lush late spring.

©0738DelawareMemoryLaneWEB

©0738DelawareMemoryLaneWEB

©0754BrickDetailWEB

©0754BrickDetailWEB National Guard Armory

©0757NightclubBarWEB

©0757NightclubBarWEB

©0743NewPavillionFrameWEB

©0743NewPavillionFrameWEB

 

3:36 Roxbury. visit cousins. 5:45pm clear ROX 7826.0 northbound on Rt-30. 7:10 pm stopped Amsterday for fuel. 7:35 7997.5 stopped roadside. no camping 8:03pm 8010.7 Stopped on shore Lake Sacandaga…poor, exposed campsite. abandoned. Sat 14 June 05:10 am 8017 Awake at visitors information center parking lot on Rt-30. My question was “Where can I find a good, free campsite ?” High wind and torrents of rain…no one was there to tell me to move on. Very cozy with rain on roof. Morning WX cloudy but not raining — minor road washouts on Rt-30 — rivers very high. Stopped @ Wells for equipment discipline. Sunrise 6:02am. —

©0761SmallHydroAtEssexWEB

©0761SmallHydroAtWellsWEB

©0763DistributionSmallHydroWEB

©0763DistributionSmallHydroWEB

©0771FloodgatesWellsWEB

©0771FloodgatesWellsWEB

Small scale hydro raises hackles of energy vs conservation advocates.   Compared to high sulfur coal it’s a saint.   From a salmon’s nose view it stinks.    Seems like a soluble problem in civil engineering.

©0773AidenHouseWEB

©0773AidenHouseWEB

©0776AidenStructureWEB               8:10 am 8099.7 @ MacIntyre Furnace

©0820NippleArchWEB

©0820NippleArchWEB

©0793VegetationInvasionWEB MacIntyre Furnace was the prime first target of this expedition. It combines my interest in industrial archaeology with funky places and history.   Just finding the location would not be trivial to anyone denied the convenience of internet search.  It’s  on a dead end road, both economically and geographically.  The history of the mineral riches of the area open a huge ball of wax involving three generations of exploitation and social power in society all the way to the later president of the USA, rough rider Teddy Roosevelt.  I haven’t yet run down all the good links…but I’ll include a few later in the post for those of you curious.

 

 

 

 

©I-802-50NippleArchConstructionlMacIntyreFurnace010204WEB

©I-802-50NippleArchConstructionlMacIntyreFurnace010204WEB

©I-802-48ConstructionDetailMacIntyreFurnace0102WEB

©I-802-48ConstructionDetailMacIntyreFurnace0102WEB

There was a substantial early 19th century village to support smelting iron at MacIntyre Furnace.  Only buried traces remain evident to skilled archaeologists.  The region later became the property of an exclusive private club…The Tahawus Club…Vice President Theodore Roosevelt was a guest.  The club still exists…still very private, but parts of it’s real estate holding passed to the Adirondack Park and are administered by a conservation organization, Open Spaces.

©0916TahawusLowerWorksWEB

©0916TahawusLowerWorksWEB

The ruins in the village now on maps as Tahawus are now a heavily deteriorated ghost town … fascinating…but must be explored with some common sense regarding its dangers.

©0831YouWereHereWEB

©0831YouWereHereWEB

Ghost towns are fun…stimulate the imagination about times long lost.

©0836RuinInteriorWEB

©0836RuinInteriorWEB

©0827ClubCampStreetWEB

©0827ClubCampStreetWEB

©I-802-60PumpHouseAtTahawusCamp03WEB

©I-802-60PumpHouseAtTahawusCamp03WEB

©0840OldFrontPorchWEB

©0840OldFrontPorchWEB

9:40 am clear furnace for trailhead ‘R’ to Henderson Lake. Remains of club era village heavily deteriorated. Due to previous heavy rain Hudson river in thunderous flow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©0857UpstreamHudsonRiverSpateWEB

©0857UpstreamHudsonRiverSpateWEB

©0883SaturdayNiteBathWEB

©0883SaturdayNiteBathWEB

 

Pure luck found me the remains of village housing on uphill side of Rt-25, and pump house / generator site behind village.

No safe or legal way to get to mine remains. Too long (~7 miles) to hike in along D&H r.r. tracks. More internet research in advanced would have helped.

©0786D&HsignalVaultWEB

©0786D&HsignalVaultWEB

 

1:35 pm 8100.9 clear trailhead area.

©0895OreSampleWEB

©0895OreSampleWEB

 

The mining operations started with iron in the early 19th cent. and were later revived to smelt lead, which proved uneconomic due to contamination from what later proved to be titanium…worth far more as metal and as TiO2, white paint pigment.  Long story…  Abandoned mine machinery was evident until a few years ago when the potential liabilities moved the current owners to fence the mine sites and forbid access.

©0903StripMineEntranceWEB

©0903StripMineEntranceWEB

©0913YouDontWannaKnowWEB

©0913YouDontWannaKnowWEB

3:50 pm8155 Tupper Lake downtown looks tired and down at heels.   Didn’t stop this time.

©0927VernacularStyleWEB

©0927VernacularStyleWEB

©0937DewDropThruFloorWEB

©0937DewDropThruFloorWEB

 

©0920BrokenWindowCurioShopWEB

©0920BrokenWindowCurioShopWEB

 

4:30pm Walkabout Saranac Lake. Fuel.

 

While looking for sitdown dinner and a brewski I stumbled into wonderful party at WateringHole. The scholarship fund of Golf Club was having a private fundraizing BBQ. I got into the line and made a donation…got chicken BBQ, beef BBQ, pork BBQ, poached salmon, new potatoes, corn on cob, cole slaw and a brewski for $7.50 less than the Jackson I’d budgeted for dinner on the town. Great Fun and moldy oldies from the DJ. Got accepted because of my Reese Jones Inc. gimme cap. When party broke up walked the town until knees gave out.   Too many pictures to post and stay on topic.

©0925PartyPartyWaterholeWEB

©0925PartyPartyWaterholeWEB

9:00 pm Campsite behind apartment block on Main St. Bothered by leg cramps and (quiet) rock & roll from bar until 3am.

 

Sunday 15 June ’14 Fathers Day. 6am up after decent nights sleep except for leg cramps. 7:15 Keene NY 8215.7 stopped for equipment discipline. WX cloudy with beautiful mist in patches on mountain slopes.  Passed right through Lake Placid; the whole town is just Sports Nutts…but had to admire the bicyclist training on the mountain slopes.

Sun breaks through. 8:00am 8226.7 on Rt-9n northbound somewhere east of Keene spotted a strange facility roadside surrounded by partial fence but not showing any signage — many wells drilled and capped. AC power and telecommunications on site–low buildings collapsed. ? What WAS this ?? ~ one mile north of Elizabethtown.

©0955StrangeRuinsElizabethtownWEB

©0955StrangeRuinsElizabethtownWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moving right along, folks…

Westport has a distinctly shoreside feeling–might be Wellfleet or Point Pleasant. —

©1010ExhibitHallEssexCountyFairWEB

©1010ExhibitHallEssexCountyFairWEB

©0977PrivateEssexFerryWEB

©0977PrivateEssexFerryWEB

 

 

The Essex county Fairgrounds has lovely architecture.  It seems mostly devoted to race horses,  but other endeavors are represented.  This lovely building if for floriculture.

Village of Essex south of town might be Rt-89 along west shore of Cayuga. Town feels New England. Ferry service to Vermont is privately owned..friendly people. This is the first time I’ve ever encountered a ferry service in the private business sector.  I guess this counts toward working waterfront.

 

My second major objective was to get a look at some of the historic battlegrounds along the Champlain lake shore.

©1045ChamplainBridgeWEB

©1045ChamplainBridgeFromSiteFrenchGunEmplacementsWEB

©I-803-16BritishParadeGroundCrownPoint01030405WEB

©I-803-16BritishParadeGroundCrownPoint01030405WEB

Battlefields from French and Indian and Revolutionary wars — The French had artillery command of the water side but the British threatened with a battalion of infantry.  The French demolished their fort and withdrew.     The British built one uphill, much stronger that commanded all approaches.   American revolutionaries could probably never have taken it if not for an accidental kitchen fire which spread to detonate the British powder magazine which breached the walls,  rendering the guns silent and the fort untenable.  A mere company of rebels displaced them and captured over a hundred cannon for our new nation.

©1045ChamplainBridgeWEB

©1045FrenchGunPitsChamplainBridgeWEB

 

©I-803-08BritishWaterWellCrownPoint01WEB

©I-803-08BritishWaterWellCrownPoint01WEB

©I-803-12ReinforcementBritishRampartsCrownPoint0103WEB

©I-803-12 ReinforcementBritishRampartsCrownPoint0103WEB

©1072KilroyWasHere1870WEB

©1072KilroyWasHere1870WEB

©I-803-20BritishQuarterssAtCrownPoint02WEB

©I-803-20BritishQuarterssAtCrownPoint02WEB

 

 

 

©I-803-18BritishBarracksAtCrownPoint01WEB

©I-803-18BritishBarracksAtCrownPoint01WEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3:08 pm @ Ticonderoga S.P. boat launch…may do later…need rest now. Fathers Day bass fishing tourney in progress. Snazzy boats ! … cost pro’lly a modest home for a working class family.

 

 

 

Fort Ticonderoga overpriced even with senior discount… had to pass it up. Faulty navigation out of Ticonderoga landed me in Whitehall, NY during a fire dept training exercise. Lucky mistake…good photo opps.

 

©1091ThreeInchNavalRifleWEB

©1091ThreeInchNavalRifleWEB

©1096WhitehallStylesWEB

©1096WhitehallStylesWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©I-803-26NavyMemorialWhitehall05WEB

©I-803-26NavyMemorialWhitehall05WEB

The town of Whitehall’s claim to be the birthplace is the U.S. Navy is not undisputed.   Note beer can frame right declaring someones attitude to the navy

©1105UssTiconderogaTimbersWEB

©1105USS TiconderogaTimbersWEB

©1101SchoonerSkeletonWEB

©1101SchoonerSkeletonWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©1106SternPeaceSignMODWEB

©1106 SternPeaceSignMODWEB

 

©1106SternpostWEB

©1106SternpostWEB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After WHitehall I had to backtrack to Lake George. Fuel. Lake George very Disneyland…worse than Wisconsin Dells…no sense of humor at all.

First attempt at campsite was posted…second attempt had every mosquito, black fly and tick for miles around competing for a bite of my ears.  MytThird try, way down Rt 10 but still in Adirondack Park, was ideal. Very sheltered and quiet Monday 16 June ’14 6:20 am Good nights sleep !!!

Saw good photo opps in Little Falls industrial neighborhoods, but passed by because not on plan…no prior research.

I took a look at Herkimer…not for the diamond mine, but for the nostalgia of McCoy model airplane engine factory.  Not thinking straight. I had no idea where to look. Looking for photo opps in Frankford, NY was totally unproductive.

I was so  mentally exhausted…good night sleep not withstanding…that I couldn’t think straight. Got highway hypnosis and decided it safer to abort the last day of the mission and head for home. 9:15am fuel @ Norwich 10:48 am.

258620.5 absolute miles in driveway at Slaterville Springs. Close log. 821.4 miles. fuel cost $138.38. ca. $46 cash out spent for food, BBQ donation, map, and many cups crappy coffee. Silver Dragon performed flawlessly, but too many miles driven for too few hours productive photography.

De-Briefing   Rollieflex damaged in accident with dog leash toppling tripod. Too little advanced internet research. More than 330 digital picture files. Should have taken Canon G-12 for backup and a backup exposure meter for the film cameras. Three rolls 6 cm film before Rollieflex shelved.  Results mixed…mostly underexposure.   One and a half rolls 35mm black and white backups look good. One and a half rolls infrared… spotty quality mostly due to underexposure. It would be wonderful to have a navigator/logger for company. Knee and hip joints limit hiking ability. Mental fatigue a worse problem then in previous years. If I’m going to Halifax I need to budget more rest time and pick  more direct routes to limit car time.

What’s the point of all this anyway ??   real photojournalists get paid ( peanuts )…over the hill wannabes like me get grants.  This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop doing it, but I’m going to have to find real income streams.

I’ll be at the Ithaca Artists  Market again this year.   Friday 25 July ’14 from 2 pm to dark at Steamboat Landing.   Some prints including some not shown in this post will be available then and there.

-30-

For the curious who’d like to dig further into the ball of wax:   use these starting points.

http://www.aarch.org/archives/leeman/060331VLPTahawusClub,Pt.2.pdf

http://www.adirondack-park.net/history/mcintyre.mine.html

http://www.historiclakes.org/crown_pt/furness.html

 

Way enough for now…I’ve been working on this post for a week.

Next Post:   is going to have to somethin more modest.

 

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