Rob Pleas Photography

Well, I just returned from several days in Eastern, Washington, exploring new trails up mountains I have never been exposed to. This time, I took a shorter hike in an area known for Pika sightings. I parked at a campground and walked though a gate. It was apparent that cattle were ranging in this area, as I had to convince several of them to move. The trail started out easily and twisted and turned and crossed the usual creeks with minor elevation changes. Soon, I was walking though brush as high as my waist, but that was short-lived. A quick “tick check” and I was on my way again. For most of the trip, the wind was blowing slightly. But then, it happened. In an area deep within the forest, the wind stopped. A high-pitched “bzzz” echoed in my ear. Then, the other ear. I felt a tickle on my leg hairs. MOSQUITOS!!! They were everywhere! Slap! Slap Slap! Brush Brush. I looked like I was trying to pat out a fire on my back. I walked faster. No luck. Only a few dropped off. Faster. Ok, the were barely keeping up. Now they were attacking my neck, so I pulled my hat down. Whew. That confused them. I was exhausted. Practically speed-walking up a hill with a 23 lb. pack. My body said, “stop and catch your breath!” Ok. I stopped.”Bzz”. Oh no! They reinforced the troops. I was covered in them. Slap, Slap Slap. “Body, I said. Deal with it. We are outta here!” Back to speed walking up the hill. “Come on wind”, I begged. I arrived in the Valley of Rocks, as I call it, or Pika Canyon. Sure enough, I heard the “squeak” sound they make, as though stepping on a dog toy. And to my appreciation, the wind started blowing. I captured a few Pika shots, but was surprised by the number of wildflowers in bloom in the area and quickly setup for flower shots. Between the Pikas, flowers, and waiting for the wind to die down, I spent a couple hours photographing.

From the car to the canyon, the hike took 45 minutes. The trip down took closer to 30 minutes. I hope you enjoy the images. Don’t forget the mosquito dope!

Here’s an interesting use for photos. There are three people in this story– Lewis, Steve, and Mike.

Several months ago a private investigator pulled into my driveway. He asked me if I knew Lewis (whose name has been changed to protect him). I indicated that I had met this person. In fact, Lewis once lived in a derelict motor home in the back lot of my neighbor. Lewis suffered from brain damage and struggled to live on his own. The damage occurred from years of industrial work in an environment that was unregulated.

The private investigator told Lewis’s story after he had moved from my neighbor’s backyard. It seems that Lewis was only given a few months to live. Steve heard Lewis’s story and lent him his new motor home, valued at $200,000, in which to live out the remainder of his life.

A year passed with no word from Lewis. Steve wanted his motor home back and the contact information from Lewis was no longer vaild. Steve called the private investigator.

Over the course of three months, the private investigator and I had several discussions. I was even able to supply numerous photos of the backyard where Lewis once lived. On two completely unrelated incidents, I had to take pictures of that area. During a backyard renovation, an excavator happened to hit several of my fence posts. I took pictures of the damage for insurance reasons, but because I was using a wide angle lens, the pictures included numerous shots of the neighbor’s backyard and Lewis’s motor home. A year or two later, my wife and I decided to sell one of our cars. I normally washed the car in our backyard and as I took pictures of the vehicle freshly washed, once again the neighbor’s motor home was in plain view. The private investigator thought Lewis might be hiding the expensive motor home in the backyard. I was able to prove, using my photos and testimony, that the expensive motor home was never in the backyard.

One day, the private investigator pulled into my driveway and exclaimed that he had found Lewis. Not surprisingly, Lewis was living in someone else’s backyard in another rundown motor home. It was this visit that the entire story was told. Mike had obtained all of Lewis’s credentials, including social security number and driver’s license number. He then fabricated a drivers license and some other documents with his own picture. It was this information plus a sob story of how he only had three months to live, that he used to convince Steve to loan him the motor home. As soon as Mike received the keys, he took off. Remember that I am in Washington state. The motor home, Mike, and an accomplice, were found in Florida. Fortunately, Lewis was off the hook and thanks to two insignificant events– damage to fence posts and the desire to sell a vehicle, pictures were taken and used to restore his good name.

Last weekend was the annual air show at McCord Air Force Base and it represented one of the few times I could proudly say, “I’m glad my tax dollars are supporting this!”

The activities started early but the actual air show began at 11 on Saturday morning. I knew where I wanted to be which was not on base, but nearby. The morning was overcast and I figured we were in for rain. Since jets flying high into the clouds were not likely to make the most interesting photographs, I was very slow to leave the house. After all of five minutes driving, traffic on the highway came to a dead stop. There was no way I was getting to the spot I had chosen for photographing the planes. Thinking quickly, I was able to divert off the highway onto a side street and drive into an industrial complex. I was surprised that I was one of barely a handful of cars in the lot because this particular parking lot was across the highway, right at the end of the runway! Thanks to a lot of traffic congestion trying to get on to the base, I now had the best seat in the house. Why? Because there is nothing like seeing a low-flying jet coming straight at you and then diverting straight up like a rocket just at the moment you think you’re going to get sucked up into its engines. Just about every plane took off, turned around, and landed by traveling right over our parking lot.

It was an F-18. It had been flying for a few minutes when it turned around at the far end of the runway. Instantly, the plane was low to the ground and coming straight at me, fast! So fast, that I had trouble keeping up with it in the viewfinder of my camera. Also, the plane was silent. The only sound I heard was the rumble of the car engines still stuck on the highway. The plane reached the end of the runway, crossed the highway, and right over our parking lot, went straight up. BABOOOM!!!! The explosion was so loud that he must have broken the sound barrier. A few runs more and it was time for him to return to base. With his gear down and the plane descending, I could see both pilots. The copilot appeared to be looking straight at me which I consider fair, since my lens was looking straight at him.

The air show lasted five hours and for five hours, very little traffic moved on the highway. The clouds did break and we had an amazingly hot and sunny day. From World War II vintage piston planes such as the P-51 and Corsair, to the modern-day jets, parachute drops, and smoke writing, Saturday was phenomenal. The event continued in similar fashion on Sunday with cloudy skies that eventually turned blue. Different planes flew on Sunday and with much more formation flying, Sunday proved to be just as fun as Saturday.

Sometimes it is easy to lose track of the fun of photography. Driving from place to place and weird hours in the hopes of capturing an image worthy of someone’s wall can cause the stress to rise and the fun to vanish. Fortunately, I have a two-year old who thinks every picture of him is perfect. Over the weekend he saw me walk by with the camera and he said “picture!”. So, I thought “what the heck” and sat down on the floor. His face brightened and he immediately began to smile and pose and act silly. He especially like to put his face as close to the lens as possible, which of course tends to create blurry photos. He didn’t care. He could see the pictures immediately and laughed and laughed. Because he won’t sit still I set my D700 to Continuous focus and I used my 50mm lens. I like the 50mm because it skews the perspective and makes interesting and more dramatic images.

After 20 minutes of chasing and shooting, we had blurry pictures, sharp pictures, weird lighting photos, green skin photos (thanks to the paint on the wall), and photos with clutter in the background. He loved every image. He could recognize the back end of the cat walking out the picture by name and recognize himself. He laughed at the way-too-close-up photos and stared awestruck by others.

Yeah. It was pretty cool.

Image taken with a Nikon D700 and Nikkor 50mm f1.4 lens