We all experience instant memories when we hear some song. That’s what happened as I listened to a 1970’s song by the Bee Gees while I drove to town this week.
In July of 1978 I travelled (while playing a Bee Gees cassette on my car’s 4 track player over and over again the whole way) to a place in Wyoming’s Teton Mountain range called the T-Cross Ranch.
I was there to attend a photography class lead by the University of the Wilderness's instructor and writer Boyd Norton. I had found Norton’s book “Wilderness Photography” and had poured over the pages of instructions and ideas about photographing the great out-of-doors.
I don’t recall how I found out about the class, but I was so determined to go that I sold my jaunty little VW bug to pay for it. The cash not only paid my tuition and expenses to Wyoming it also helped pay for an airline ticket so my girl friend (later my wife) could fly to Salt Lake City, Utah to meet up after my course and then spend time photographing Arches National Monument, Zion Park and the Grand Canyon.
The T-Cross Ranch was nestled in the mountains just outside of Dubois, Wyoming and the class was comprised of photographers from Germany, New York, Florida, Idaho, Colorado, Tennessee, and two of us from Kamloops. (My friend Alan Atterton also drove down.)
We hiked, wandered and photographed everything in front of our lenses, and sat through lectures in a large wonderful 100-year-old antique-filled log house.
Our instructor wanted to provide instant feedback for the participants and had come across a new three-chemical-process for developing slide film.
The first morning I noticed Norton reading the instructions and I was so excited by it that I volunteered to becoming the official class technician and while my classmates were sitting around the fire talking about the day’s events I was in a large unused walk-in cold room removing film from cassettes, rolling them into large processing tanks, then developing and hanging the rolls for overnight drying and I’ll admit to having a great time.
We were excited that we could have our images for critique so quickly. I thought that film technology had finally become the best it could be.
I preferred using a huge Mamiya RB67 at that time. The RB used 120mm medium format film and the negatives were 2¼x2¾ inches.
One morning we trucked up to a mountain plateau and Norton said, “There is a lightning storm to the west and there will be antelopes coming this way to stay out of the storm. So find yourself a good position for some great shots.” I waited behind an old log salt lick as several antelope came bounding our way.
The lens on the Mamiya RB67 racked back and forth on a rail instead of turning like modern lenses. I tried to keep the antelopes in focus as they ran toward us, but to my dismay I couldn’t and I didn’t get a shot!
I returned home and within weeks I sold it and purchased a compact medium format Hasselblad that I used until coincidentally I attended another wilderness class the late 1990s, that time at Washington State’s Mt. Rainier and was introduced to digital.
Shortly after that I bought my first DSLR. Technology changes constantly for those of us dedicated to this medium and holding on to out-dated equipment stops growth.
Reminiscing about that Wyoming trip has reminded me was how much fun it was to interact with other photographers and participate in workshops, classes and be ready to move forward with new technology. And of course, I also have many photographs from that trip to add to the great memories.
Stay safe and be creative. These are my thoughts for this week. Contact me at www.enmanscamera.com or emcam@telus.net.
