I went a little wild shooting panoramas this weekend. It wasn’t a planned thing. The weather wasn’t even close to being conducive to this type of photography. Single digit temperatures and bare hands to take 30-ish semi-overlapping images don’t mix well. My original intention was to capture the ice in the Allegheny river, preferably at sunrise. As with most of my work, I try and get shots of the city from areas that aren’t frequently seen. Everyone photographs from the observation platform at Mt. Washington. The West End Overlook is very popular as well. There is a good reason for this, but I prefer to shoot the city from all over.

Back to that cold, cold morning’s sunrise. I walked down the bank by Heinz Field and found a good spot to get the rising sun. This image below is the result of 28 images stitched together.

The next morning I went back, hoping to capture some more ice in the Ohio river from the West End Bridge. To my dismay, the Ohio was moderately clear. The sky was clouded over completely, though, and there was little hope of catching a nice sunrise. I moved along to the North Shore and parked near Allegheny Landing to photograph a favorite spot between the Sixth and Seventh street bridges. I have always liked the sculpture that is at the top of the hill, but never managed to capture a good single shot if it, so I gave it a shot as a panoramic image. The image below is the result of a 31 image stitch.

I moved down to the riverfront trail, receiving strange looks from a few joggers that were also braving the cold. I returned their glances with a smile, but I’m sure that they could see the slight head shaking that wasn’t shiver related. I shot 40 images from this spot to create the image below.

I moved along the trail, towards PNC park to get a better angle back on the city. I shot a few single shots along the way, but when the snow cleared up for a few minutes and I saw steam coming from a building across the river, I set up for one last panorama. This was was quicker, and only has 13 shots that are stitched. It was likely that my fingers were telling my brain that they were about to mutiny. I had been out for about 2 hours at this point.

I shot a quick video, panning from the Sixth Street Bridge over to the Ft. Duquesne Bridge, then headed back to the car. Here is the video, for those interested.

… or at least, that’s how I’ll remember it.

Since getting my new camera in the middle of August (2013), I’ve managed to fill the vacant Terrabyte  of my NAS dedicated to photography. Everything that ever shot with a digital camera, minus what was lost in the unfortunate events of 5/22/2010*, is stored on a RAID-1 array of 3TB discs in a network attached storage enclosure.

Enough techspeak. I ran out of space. I needed more.

I purchased two 4TB drives to add to the party. This should hold me over for a year or so… I decided to organize my backups a bit while waiting for the drives to be delivered. I have several backups of my work, on several different types of media. There are 3 external hard drives, many, many blu-rays, and cloud storage. The externals were a bit mis-managed, having no real structure to what was stored on them. My decision to straighten all of this out has taken several days and is not yet completed. The new drives are hanging out, in their anti-static bags, ready to spin into action. In the meantime, here’s what is on my desktop:

It is very similar to the puzzle game that asks you to create an image by sliding pieces around a single blank space. Can I move all of the weddings onto the 1.5TB drive? How about the 635GB “Done” folder that houses all of my full resolution, polished images that are ready to print? Which drive can that go on?  On top of what’s happening on screen, there’s a pile of stuff on the desk.

I hope to have things straightened out at some point tomorrow. It is painful to NOT be out shooting.

* many images were lost on that dark night when I saw my hard drives take flight from the 3rd floor. Want to hear about it? It is an in-person, over beers kind of tale only. Fortunately, I’m not upset about it… just sad.

It isn’t a secret that Western Pennsylvania (as well as most of the United States) experienced a cold snap recently due to a weather event called a Polar Vortex. Sub-zero temperatures moved into the area and cooled things down a little more than we are used to.

The Allegheny river filled with ice (although the Monongahela stayed ice free), windows froze, people were throwing pots full of boiling water into the cold air, and so on. What did I do? My wife and I went to McConnels Mill to see what the waterfall looked like on the coldest day in decades. I was expecting a lot of ice. I got more than I bargained for.

We arrived around 4:00pm. The temperature was 2°F, the sun was still hitting sections of the hillside on the other side of the river, and this meant that the waterfall would be in shadow. We parked in a safe place at the top of the hill heading down to the parking area for the falls. Even though the Audi is a tank, I didn’t want to chance getting stuck. As we walked the 10 minutes or so to the parking area, I patted myself on the back for making this decision. There was a smooth and solid layer of ice covering the surface of the road. Good idea.

I showed Adriana the falls from the bridge above and got really excited that water was still flowing over the buildup of ice. I also showed her the ridiculously steep climb that is my usual entrance and exit path. We were going to take a less steep path in, but I had showed her this path via a video recording on my phone before and there’s no comparison to seeing it in real life. We made our way down the “safer” trail.

I had been to the falls not more than a month earlier, in 40 odd degrees warmer temperatures. I was amazed at what I saw as I rounded the corner.  The wide, shallow pool had become an ice rink.  Wearing my trusty boots, I tested the ice thickness for crossing. I am moderately experienced with cold weather photography and knowing how to “check before you step”.

Adriana took the path to the left and I crossed to get a better shot from where the stream runs into the river (about 15′ or so behind me in relation to the above photo). Keeping one eye on Adriana and one on where my feet were going, I jumped to a rock close to the mouth of the stream to crouch down and get a good angle on the icy waters.

Making my way up and around to where Adriana had stopped, I saw a small branch that had fallen, become coated in a thick layer of ice, and was now the home of many, many icicles.

There was still a large volume of water flowing, but it was mostly under the ice.

I got closer to the tower of ice on the left, which placed me in the pool of water. Adriana just shook her head, pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of me as I was capturing a really amazing nature-made structure.

I told Adriana to head up further to see the main waterfall. I grabbed a few more shots before following her to the base of the top cascade. I was prepared to see an amazing sight, but the area that we looked out on surpassed my expectations.  An area that was normally a few inches deep was covered in what looked like 6-8 inches of ice.

I tested each step with a hard heel stomp and found a safe path up to the huge rock in the middle of the frame above. Adriana said that she just wanted to enjoy the view from her safe spot.  I climbed up to the rock and could see water spilling through spots both above the ice and flowing below it. I snapped a frame and prepared to shoot a little video to show the movement.

I shot a little handheld video and then wanted to step into the frame to show a sense of scale. I propped the camera up on my bag and looked to see how far out I could safely walk. I started recording and shimmied out to the spot, testing the area that I thought was just ice covered rock. When I was sure that it was ok, I turned back towards the camera, smiled, and pointed at the falls. I looked back at Adriana and all of a sudden, the ice gave way. I fell nearly 6′ and caught myself just as my belly dipped underwater. I had dropped, waist deep, into water that was surely below freezing, but still flowing. I yelled, pulled myself up and the ice cracked again. I fell back in, only slightly less deep this time. I grabbed for a handhold and finally pulled myself out. I knew that I needed to get back to the car quickly. I had never been in a situation like this, but instantly some survival skills kicked in and I yelled, “We gotta go.. We gotta go”. I packed up my camera as I felt my jeans freezing on the outside. There was water still in my boots.

I knew that the path back down and around would take far too long, but I wasn’t sure if Adriana could make the climb out on the path that I had showed her on the way in. I wasn’t about to leave her to take the long path. She had to come out with me.

I directed her to a safe crossing spot to get to where I was.  She was a little reluctant, but just said that she would follow me out. We started climbing. It was the longest 3 minutes, but the shortest it had ever taken me to climb out. I stopped several times to direct her to the proper footholds and where to grab. In the moments where I leaned on the ground to help and make sure that she was ok, I could feel my pants freezing to the ground. The steepest part of the climb is the last 10′. There’s very little to grab to pull yourself up and loosing footing would mean a slide to  a 20′ drop. #aintnobodygottimeforthat.

We finished the climb and began the trip back to the car, which now felt as though it was a mile away. My legs and lungs were burning. There was still water up to my ankle inside my boots. It took us nearly 8 minutes to reach the car, over 500′ away, all uphill on an ice covered road.

We got back to the car and I pulled my boots off, shut the door, and began stripping my frozen jeans off. My upper body was dry, thanks to my awesome coat with a tight waistband. I was out of danger. I was relieved. I was still super cold, sitting in my wet long john bottoms. Adriana gave me her snow pants and I traded out the long johns for dry snow pants. We decided that I would drive us home. I put my dry boots on and we drove up and out towards the interstate.

We laughed a bit about the “imminent peril” that I just experienced, our tired bodies after the adrenaline was out of our system, and then she grabbed my camera to look a the video. I heard myself fall, yell, and then proclaim that “We gotta go”. Adriana was cracking up in the passenger seat. I more than likely looked as foolish as I sounded. I’m glad to have survived the experience so that I can look back on it and laugh. Because I have captured it on video, you too can join in on the laughter.

I present to you, my submission for the 2014 Darwin Awards, titled, “We gotta go”. Enjoy!