Grain Elevator, Biggs Junction, Oregon

Now that summer is around the corner, I’ve been shooting through the rolls of Infrared film I loaded last summer.  IR is useless in the winter, so if I don’t finish it by September, it will have to wait until spring.  

I have 4 rolls of Konica IR 750 remaining from a block of 10 I bought off of eBay a few years back. It expired in 1990, but it has been freezer kept, so fogging is at a minimum.  It’s my all-time favorite film, so naturally it’s been discontinued since 2005.   

I plan to shoot a bunch of IR this summer.  More to come…


Still Making Due

Starvation Creek Falls, October 2016

I’ve been without a darkroom for over a year and a half.  My attempt to carve one out of a spare bedroom was foiled by carpet.  Gaia and I don’t consider this to be our permeant house, so ripping up the wall-to-wall carpet upstairs is out of the question.  And, even if we could do that, imagine the damage that a few major fixer spills could do to the resale value.  
I have the room set up, sans sink.  The enlargers are ready to go, I have chems and paper.  I can get the room dark enough to load film, but the dust is impossible to control.  I can do contact prints, and develop them in a Jobo Processor in the bathroom, but the dust is… you get the point.  

I could muddle through.  The situation is not impossible.  But, after having a real darkroom for so long, the difficulty of doing the most basic processes, when compared to the ease I experienced before, makes it not worth doing when I can send my film out for developing, and scan the negatives.  My scanner won’t do 8×10 negatives, but I’m working on that. 

What does the future bring?  Someday a different house with space for a proper darkroom.  I’m also reconsidering carving a small darkroom out of the garage.  More on this later.

Digital:  I am looking to buy a pro digital camera like a Nikon D810.  I do not intend it to take over for film, but I can use it for the quick shots, and save the medium and large format film for the spectacular shots.  

Featured image: Camera: Hasselblad 500CM with a 40mm Carl Zeiss lens.  

Infrared Church, Colton NY

This is from my East Coast trip last Spring.

I have a few more rolls of my favorite film, Konica IR 750, which was discontinued in 2006, in my freezer. I shot this roll over nearly a year, choosing each subject carefully while trying to remember how to use the stuff.

©2014 Gary L. Quay

©2014 Gary L. Quay

I took a chance on development. I tried a new (to me) developer called Divided D-23. It’s a variation on Kodak’s D-23, and was the version that Ansel Adams used briefly. I used it on a less precious roll of film before trying it on this. The results were stunning. Some of the infrared look is missing, but I think the visual is quite nice.

Angel’s Rest Trail

Last Wednesday I attempted a hike to Angel’s Rest, which is a viewpoint high on a bluff in the Columbia Gorge in Oregon. It was a 90 degree day, and I had been out taking pictures along the Old Columbia Gorge Highway, so I already had an idea what kind of heat was in store for me.

I had completed this hike in my 30’s, but not since. I attempted it about 8 years ago, but my hiking partner was experiencing health troubles, so we were forced to turn back before the summit. It’s a bit of a grueling hike, at 2.3 miles up the side of the gorge, but I’ve done more extreme hikes. Here’s the caveat: Not recently. As I rapidly approach 50 the way a fly rapidly approaches a windshield, I find myself with less of both energy and eagerness to climb mountains carrying 60 lbs of camera gear. However, approaching 50 as I am, I’m thinking that it’s more important that I do it.

I set out with the afore mentioned camera gear: the backpack containing my Hasselblad, lenses and film backs; a sturdy tripod; and the bag with my filters, meters, film, adapter rings, lens hoods, and, most importantly, a water bottle. As I mentioned earlier, it was about 60 pounds of gear.

So, at scant months from the age of 50, I started up the hill. The backpack almost immediately hurt my shoulders, but the first half mile went uneventful. I noticed a certain lack of certainty in my stride. I’m not as fleet of foot as I used to be.

I grew up on the east coast, in Pennsylvania, specifically among the glacier ravaged Appalachian mountains, and as such, was part mountain goat. I used to run down the rock-strewn trails at full speed, each footfall carefully placed. I forded the streams, and climbed the trees. Now, it’s been almost a decade since I’ve hiked the hills on a regular basis, and I can feel it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in bad shape for my age. I get regular exercise. Yet, my feet weren’t as sure on the stones and roots on the trail.

I tried to make the water last. I kept an eye on my skin (in case it became dry when it should have been sweaty), and level of thirst. I took a swallow when my mouth got dry. After just under a mile, I crossed a stream. I wondered whether it was safe to fill my bottle from it. I had heard of giardiasis in the mountain streams in the gorge. I asked a passing hiker, who was returning from the summit, but she didn’t know. I decided not to fill my bottle. Shortly afterward, the trail became steeper. I found myself stopping to rest more often. Hikers passed me and wished me Luck. I was determined to make it to the top, but my water was running short. My goal was to take pictures from the viewpoint, but I had noticed encroaching cloud cover before I started up, so when a hiker coming down told me that I was unlikely to get any pictures today, my spirit broke. I was tired, my water was almost gone, and I wasn’t going to risk a heat injury for bad photographs.

Back in the car, I fished under the passenger seat, and found another bottle of water. I’m going to try again.