It's Funny

It's funny how the main complaint of the Tea Partiers is that related to taxes. The Obama administration has actually made tax cuts that relate to 95% of working Americans... It's funny how brain washing certain news stations can be, being as most of them are funded by the other 5% who are being hit harder than the last eight years with taxes... ha.ha. . . that's funny.
Just a thought.

Great Minds Think Alike

The Motley Crew

For my second trip to Rossland, a strictly invite only trip, I had the amazing opportunity to work with some great local, and international talent. While my first trip consisted of a learning workshop put on by VPW, this was more of a photo safari, meets week long, get-together. The models consisted of Stephanie, Kira (aka Floofie), Helen (aka Rhus) and lastly, me. Our host, Michael Cordiez was one of the selected few photogs that was here. Marc Koegel from VPW was here, along with Dave Aharonian, Ron Skei, Scott Nichol, and Doug Doyle; all of which I am very pleased to have spent some time shooting, and goofing around with.



         Although it wasn't all work, with no play there was some strenuous, and long days. Waking up at 5am, only to be followed by a not-so-quick dip in the lake at dawn break, isn't really part of my normal routine. Hardy breakfasts always followed. As the sun rose high in the sky, with no cloud cover, we were forced to hang inside, or find whatever little shade we could. Harsh sun light is a no go for portraiture, and soft nudes.



The last few days of summer were soaked up on the sun drenched patio. The nights consisted of tasteless jokes, photo reviewing, and a couple beers. Homemade meals really were the icing on the cake. Although the crowd often changes, Mike and his wife Row know how to make a photo family come together. Good company, great talent, and hopefully, some really amazing photos.

Milord

The Twilight Zone

We're all used to the new, invasive airport routines. Check in hours early. Have your passport. Have your luggage, including your unmentionables, rummaged through. Empty your pockets. Your wallet. Your purse. Your carry on. Take out your laptop. Your camera. Your knife hidden in your shoe... Attempt to find your passport, and boarding pass in your now disastrous carry on luggage. Board your large aircraft with incredibly tiny seats, and incredibly disgusting food. Pay upwards of $7 for a tiny bottle of nerve calming liquid. And lastly, sit back, and relax?

Well here I am, in Trail BC in an airport that has stayed exactly the same since the outdated, 70s furniture first arrived. The flight has been delayed over an hour, and all I did at check in was state my name. The check in lady is cold, and clearly bored with her job. The building honestly isn't any bigger than a one bedroom rancher, with single pained glass, cream colored paint that, most likely, at one point was white, and a few pieces of non-matched furniture likely picked up at the local thrift store.
Everything is OK considering I have my laptop, but the contstant squeek of the little girls running shoes hitting the floor beside me has become a bit of an annoyance. That, combined with the small chatter throughout the room sets a sort of ambiance. There's no kiosk here, and although it is only 10:30 in the morning, a nice cold beer would sure do me good. Or coffee at least.

The small fridge located atop the fabric bar top, which is no longer in use, hosts a sign that reads "Our canteen works by the honor system" followed by a few prices for chocolate bars, and soda pop. Children fight over which snacks they are going to share, following the honor system of course.

And lastly, my backside is starting to hurt, since the only outlet I could find is located behind one of the kids tables. I'm sitting on a seat about half the size of a normal wood chair, with my knees nearly resting at my chin. Apparently they didn't undertand the concept of electronics when this structure was built.

So here I am, waiting for one of the smallest planes I've ever boarded. I'm waiting to literally crawl to my seat, and fly for just over an hour with no drink or snack service. But hey, on the bright side? I don't have to carry my passport. I haven't had any luggage, or body orifices searched. My laptop is allowed to stay intact. And I won't be tempted to spend any money thousands of feet above ground. So, cheers small towns, we need more honor systems.

Calgary

 Chapter 1 - The Drive There

Calgary's skyline

 Twelve hours stuck in your car with a dog might seem awful, but in fact, it was great until the way back.
We drove through Hope, stopped in Kamloops, Golden, and then finally, a much needed walk within the city limits. Besides a close 'out of gas' call, we had a very smooth, sunny ride all the way through the Rocky Mountains.
No construction, not too much traffic, and a mostly 4 lane highway... yay!

 The first day was quite nice. We got in at around 7pm, which gave us plenty of time to get changed, stretch our legs, and enjoy some river water. We spent the night at my sister's place. Bikini was a little uneasy due to the two spying cats, but we both got some much needed rest.

 

Chapter 2 - The Stay

Grandma, and Auntie Linda 

I took a day to go Stampeding, but Bikini stayed at home.
It's quite a spectacle; between the drunken tourists with bent cowboy hats and flip flops, and the annual Stampeders slip sliding around in their barely-worn-in cowboy boots. But, the real cowboys, with their nice jeans, and cute smiles - that I can appreciate.
The next morning, we moved to my dad's apartment.
We traveled out to where I remember used to be the country to Grandma's place, but suburbia had taken over. There was little to no prairie left where there once was even five years ago. Instead, horribly designed suburban communities sprawl outwards from the city center in all directions. We had lunch and talked over tea... We managed to see sun only after a thunderstorm had passed.

Chapter 3 - The Ride Back

Windows down. Fully cloaked back seat. Brand new air fresheners. Nothing could stop the stench of a freshly skunked dog. Luckily, just passed Revelstoke, I managed to get a nose bleed. The paper towel stuck up my nose, did manage to curb the stench, slightly.

Traffic

Our travel to Calgary had been an amazingly enjoyable one. Tunes bumping, cherries to eat, and clear roads. The way back? Hot. Stinky. Slow... and dark.


We managed to come to a complete stop on the highway at least twice, for half an hour each. At this point, it was a good time to attempt to air out the car, and the dog... although, I really would have rather kept driving. We had the intention of camping somewhere along the way, but decided to just drive the whole way. The drive at dusk through Kamloops really was spectacular, but the dark, lonely highway through to Hope was stressful.
The conclusion: We made it home safe, and more road trips are in our future. :).

A Stop in Revelstoke

Bully Portraits

I don't think much needs to be said for this one.

A slow Walk Through Pacific Spirit

Pacific Spirit Park is a huge expanse of virtually untouched rainforest, spreading from Spanish Banks, up through UBC, and nearly to the Fraser River. The park is over 880 acres larger than that of it's more famous neighbour, Stanley Park. Once again Vancouver's city planners have sacrificed millions of dollars for the sake of natural wonder, part of what makes Vancouver such an amazing place to live. Trails wind through the flora, connecting at well marked trail markers. Joggers, dog walkers, and even horse back riders dot certain paths and keep the forest lively and safe.

We first entered the park through the trail located at Sasamat at 16th St.
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Where the sun breaks through the canopy, dense moss covers the dead fall like carpet. The rich, moist humus on the ground is soft to the touch, and allows new growth in this old forest. The density of trees is unlike many forests here in Vancouver. 

Once inside, the space is somewhat eery. Perhaps it's the lack of undergrowth, or the sheer amount of enormous trees that do not allow for a vantage point of more than 100 feet in. The eeriness was only broken by the occasional passer-by, or the song of a small bird. 

 

As we continued to walk, we passed by trails that seemed to disappear into the trees. Had it not been for the well marked trails, or occassional map, one could wander in the density for hours not knowing which way was North, luckily they make it hard to get lost.

 

As one wanders deeper into the woods, the sound of traffic is drowned by the brussel of branches high above in the wind. Timber creeks as the wind passes through, but down on the trail there's a simple stillness. There is near silence say for the gravel beneath my feet, and the occasional flutter of small wings. The silence was once broken by the calls of an owl. We searched the branches to no avail. Just another example of a pair of eyes watching us, that we would have been unaware of.

I've included a map of the area stretching from W16th all the way through the endowment lands, to the ocean. The park is broken up by the UBC campus, suburban neighbourhoods, and different roadways. This blog is only focussing on this stretch of trails and wood. The trails are well marked, and let you know what the individual leash laws are. Most trails are 'offleash optional' with the occassional 'on-leash only' one thrown in the mix, whether or not these are heavily enforced is questionable. You'll also find the occasional garbage can, and 'do not enter, ecologically sensitive area' signs. All trails are easy, providing great signage, well laid gravel, and even bridges to cross small creeks. Happy tails, er trails!

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