Challenged: A Photo a Day

Monnie Ryan

Monnie Ryan is one of those people who does SO MUCH and does it SO WELL that we wonder how in the world she finds the time, energy, talent, and intestinal fortitude to cope with it all!  As you can see by her biographical sketch, which only touches the surface of her list of accomplishments, she is quite an awesome woman.  And as you can see from her photographs, she is also a super talented photographer.

Not only does her story relate the challenge (relentless pursuit of a photo a day) that she has set for herself, but it is also a mini-primer on how NOT to miss a great shot.  I hope you enjoy it and learn as much from Monnie's story as I did!

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Thanks for stopping here to see the latest post. I'd love to know what you think of the "Relentless Pursuit" series. Please leave a comment below for the author or email me with your suggestions on what you'd like to see on this blog. Also, PLEASE click the green SU icon at the bottom of this post to recommend the blog to Stumble Upon members. It will dramatically increase the "exposure" of our authors' work.

If you have a story to post on this theme, contact me. And be sure to take a look at my Photography site. I'd love to hear from you! Also, consider forwarding the link to "Relentless" to your friends and family. Thanks again!

--
Michelle Alton

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Challenged:  A Photo a Day   by Monnie Ryan


Those of us born under the Aries sign of the Zodiac are easily bored (or so astrological pundits would have us believe). We embrace change, have a strong urge to fix things that ain't broken and constantly are on the lookout for our next challenge. It was the latter, I suppose, that prompted me to join a group of online photographer friends who at the beginning of last year embarked on a special project: We would, we pledged, take at least one photo a day for the entire year. It turned out to be a frustrating, demanding and sometimes nearly impossible experience -- but one that was so satisfying (and decidedly unboring) that I'm doing it again this year.

Like many photographers I know, I have favorite photo subjects; flower close-ups, lighthouses, covered bridges and anything with rust on it are at the top of my list. But I reckoned that embarking on this photo journey would force me to open my eyes to new possibilities (whether I wanted to see them or not). And looking back on that first year, I realized that only a handful of flowers, two lighthouses and one covered bridge fill the 365 slots. Some days, subjects almost jumped in front of my camera begging for attention; other days, not so much. It was on those other days that another side of my Aries personality was called into play: stubbornness (or, as Jack, my husband of nearly 49 years, prefers to call it, damned stubbornness).

As I’ve wandered along my photographic path, a few folks have asked why on earth I'd want to undertake such a project. That answered (see the above explanation), they go on to ask how on earth I’m able to come up with a different photo every day for an entire year. Now that I’ve passed the halfway point of a second year, I've learned quite a bit that might help others follow me on a similar journey. So for whatever it's worth, I'll share what I've learned as part of my ongoing relentless pursuit (and a few of the photos as well).

Don’t leave home without it. No matter how good your camera is, it won’t work if you don’t have it when you need it. It’s safe to say I never walk out the door without at least one camera within easy reach (heck, I've even been known to carry it down the short driveway to get mail out of our box). There's one in my pocket when I wander through our neighborhood on my morning walks. I'm a state-certified volunteer long-term care ombudsman, so it's in my bag when I make my weekly nursing home visits. Grocery runs and department store stops? Well, you get the point. Here’s another, also from the voice of experience:  Be sure to keep your batteries charged (and carry extras) so you don’t run out of juice at a crucial moment.

Sunny Delight (Nursing Home Window)

Lighten up. Admittedly, I love competition -- make that winning -- as much or more than the next gal (yet another Aries trait). But the goal of taking a photo a day isn't getting an award or seeing your photos hanging in a gallery. Rather, the purpose is to expand your photographic horizons and, most importantly, create visual memories of where you've been and what you've done for an entire year. Whether it's a grandkid acting silly, somebody's cute pet or a stained glass window inside a local pub doesn't matter - it's the effort that counts.

Miss Lucy

Look, listen, stop. Wherever you go, keep your eyes and ears open (that means if you’re out for a walk or run, unplug the iPod). Look right and left, of course, but don’t forget up and down; some of my most interesting shots came from a ceiling or floor. Listen for noises like birds chirping, engines revving up and children laughing—and when one of those happens within range of your lens, stop and capture the action.

Pier Pressure (Avalon Pier, North Carolina Outer Banks)

Think outside your box. I’m not about to stop loving those flowers and lighthouses, but staying within my comfort zone does little to foster creativity and virtually puts the kabosh on the photo-a-day thing. Nothing comes to mind? Visit websites haunted by other photographers, like BetterPhoto.com, Redbubble.com, Zenfolio.com, Digital Image Cafe (digitalimagecafe.com) and social networking sites like Facebook. You'll be amazed at what you'll find to inspire you!

Off-Track (rusty railroad hingers, Delaplane, Va.)

Tune in. The daily newspaper, local TV newscasts and such are other terrific sources of photo possibilities. Checking them often can lead you to kite-flying and pizza-eating contests, balloon fests, wine-tastings, flower shows and Civil War reenactments -- each and every one a gold mine just waiting for you to dig in. Ask friends, neighbors, family members and co-workers to clue you in when the flowers in their gardens start to bloom, their churches are having a strawberry festival or their kids are playing in Little League games. Go online and sign up for e-newsletters at websites of convention and visitor bureaus, chambers of commerce and local, state and national parks so you'll be notified of upcoming events

Stirring the Pot (apple butter-making demonstration, Beaver Creek
State Park, East Liverpool, Ohio)

Point and shoot. If it's not moving too fast (and sometimes even if it is), it's got potential. Don't wait for the perfect opportunity; a telephone pole, an empty cigarette pack someone carelessly tossed in the street or a patch of weeds by a wood fence are fair game. Often, something that didn't turn me on in the moment turns out to be a real gem; and even if it’s a total dud, the great thing about digital photography is we can quickly dispose of anything we don't want or like.

 Don't Fence Me In (Mineral Ridge, Ohio)

Put your feet to the fire. Putting the above strategies into play means plenty of opportunities will come knocking at your door most days; but sometimes, there’s simply no place to go and no one to see. That’s when I tell myself I have half an hour to find something -- anything -- to photograph (or else)! Over the course of this year, for instance, I’ve pointed at and shot everything from old books to vegetables to buckles on my shoes to my husband's [nearly] bald head.

Wisdom Through the Ages (old family Bible)

Get creative. Don't automatically discard a ho-hum photo; instead, try turning it into something special by "doctoring" it up in a photo editing program. Don't have one? Picasa is quite good and free (download it at picasa.google.com). Or, upload a photo at Picnik.com, jazz it up and save the changed version on your computer. You may be happily surprised at the results. A bunch of drab backyard leaves turned jazzy with a touch of the Fractalius filter; adding a focal zoom filter to fall leaves in a pond at our local park turned it into a contest winner

Rockin' the Lily Pond (Mill Creek Metropark, Youngstown, Ohio)

Above all, I encourage you to get out there, try new things and practice, practice, practice. If that results in an occasional honor or prize along the way, that’s wonderful. If it doesn’t -- and there will be plenty of times when it won’t -- that’s fine too. Just relax, have fun and go with the flow. Who knows? Like me, you just may end up with another favorite photo subject or two to add to your list!

Monnie's Brief Biography

A one-time university administrator with a master’s degree in higher education administration, Monnie retired in 2003 after 14 years as managing editor of The Business Journal in Youngstown, Ohio. She continues to serve as online editor, columnist and feature article writer for the newspaper on a part-time basis and writes two online blogs, one in which she reviews northeastern Ohio and western Pennsylvania restaurants (http://mahoningvalleyeats.blogspot.com). Her nonfiction articles have appeared in more than 20 national magazines, and her photos have earned numerous national, state and local awards. She’s been married for nearly 49 years Jack, a retired English teacher who’s also a photography nut. You can see more of Monnie's photography at her gallery: http://photosbymonnie.zenfolio.com


Monnie's Bonus Shots

Lilies of the Field (Mill Creek MetroPark)

Dilly of a Dahlia (Mill Creek MetroPark)

Walk This Way (Whalehead Club, Corolla, N.C.)

A-Tisket, A-Tasket (woven basket at Hobby Lobby)

Fabrics of Our Lives (local Hobby Lobby store)

Let There Be Light (local pub window)

Fall Patio at Mill Creek MetroPark (Youngstown, Ohio)

Jazzed-Up Leaves (our backyard)

Big Red (Holland Harbor Lighthouse, Holland State Park, Mich.)

Pardon My Back (dahlia from nursing home garden)

Dumpster Rust (dumpster in Sharon, Pa.)

 Sharps Island Lighthouse (Chesapeake Bay, Md.)

Annisquam Lighthouse (Glouster, Mass.)

On-Yums (Farmers' market, Canfield, Ohio)

Wiswell Road Covered Bridge (Ashtabula County, Ohio)

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   All photography by Monnie Ryan
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*** I Need Your Story! *** { I'm Serious!} If you have a story to post on this theme, contact me, please! We haven't a single story on tap. I'm working on one, but it won't be ready in time for next week. Please consider sharing your tales of Relentless Pursuit!  Give you imagination a stretch--your story can be about any sort of Relentless Pursuit, fact, fiction, poignant, or humorous.  And I'd be appreciative if you also take a look at my Photography site. I'd love to hear from you and work with you on your story!--
Michelle Alton

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Dark Places for Shining Stars - Part 1

Michelle Alton

My friendship with Maurice "the Authentic" Hayman began serendipitously on a hot Summer's day in Center City Philadelphia in 2010.  He was a Hip-Hop performer doing a free midday concert in "Love Park."  I was a clinical researcher on my lunch break--with camera, of course. It wasn't until a year later that I learned that this talented, brilliant young man was on a lifelong quest that would take him down a path that not even he could have imagined.  Learn about Maurice's life and his relentless efforts to help Inner City youngsters understand that  they can be SHINING STARS. 

I'm tagging along on this journey for a while.  Please join me here as the story, "Dark Places for Shining Stars" unfolds.
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Thanks for stopping here to see the latest post. I'd love to know what you think of the "Relentless Pursuit" series. Please leave a comment below for the author or email me with your suggestions on what you'd like to see on this blog. Also, PLEASE click the green SU icon at the bottom of this post to recommend the blog to Stumble Upon members. It will dramatically increase the "exposure" of our authors' work.

If you have a story to post on this theme, contact me. And be sure to take a look at my Photography site. I'd love to hear from you! Also, consider forwarding the link to "Relentless" to your friends and family. Thanks again!
--
Michelle Alton

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Dark Places for Shining Stars (by Michelle Alton) 
Part 1

Maurice Hayman is a college-educated young urban black Hip-Hop performer who grew up poor, was raised by a struggling single mother, and never attended the same school for more than one year. He lives on the edge of a blighted area in North Philadelphia known as “Brewerytown.”  His musical act is called, “The Authentic” -- a remarkably apt monicker for a man who takes great pride in his "realness" and in  “telling it like it is.”

Maurice "the Authentic" Hayman at Love Park Concert

I am a post-menopausal unemployed suburban white Jewish former career woman, who grew up another sort of "poor" and who now lives in Yardley, Pennsylvania. 

In Philadelphia, 37 percent of public school students who start 6th grade will drop out before graduating. For African-American males, that number jumps to 43 percent, and it's 51 percent for young Latino men.  Of those who graduate high school, less than half go on to college.

In my township, according to the most recent available statistics, the total dropout rate is around 5%.  And of those who graduate high school, 93% go on to college.  There is no available breakdown by race.

Maurice and I grew up and now continue to live in vastly different “worlds.”  We dance to different rhythms, hear different drums, read different news accounts and believe different versions of the “truth.”
 
Politically we are about as far apart as two Americans can be.   But our hearts beat in unison and there are important areas in which we do see eye-to-eye.   For example, we both believe that the children will be the keys to the future in both of our worlds, and that the children are the potential stars, regardless of where they live.

It was a year ago in June of 2010 that I first encountered “the Authentic.”  He was playing in a free lunchtime concert in “Love Park” across 15th Street from Philadelphia’s City Hall.

"Love Park" (with the Swan Fountain and Philadelphia Art Museum in background)

I worked in a building one block away and spent most lunch hours with my camera, exploring the city, two miles in each direction.

"Mixtape" album cover

Never having been attracted or exposed significantly to the hip-hop genre, I wasn’t feeling very much entertained by it.  So I quickly wolfed down my sandwich and was about to take my camera elsewhere, when something caught my ear:  I could actually understand the lyrics, and what was very noticeably absent was the hard, vulgar language of typical street music.  “Authentic’s” language was hard enough, to be sure, but it definitely was not vulgar.  I started snapping pictures, and listened more carefully (lyrics excerpted from Shining Star):

No matter who you are
No matter where you are
You control your future baby
You’re a shining star
I know it gets hard
Got you screaming out to GOD
But I know that you can make it baby
You’re a shining star

“This is interesting,” I was beginning to think.  The beat was catchy, and dozens of people were sitting on benches, standing on the pavement, listening.  Many were dancing.  Everyone seemed SO HAPPY!

The sky is not the ceiling and the ground is not the bottom
You make the choice to add to the solution or the problem

Concert Spectators at the "Love Park" fountain.

Between songs, Maurice’s banter was all about staying in school, fighting the fight, and conquering the odds.  What a refreshing and upbeat message!  I liked this young man, even though I didn’t understand his music.

"The Authentic" performing in "Love Park"

I posted pictures of the concert on my photo web site and somehow Maurice was sent the link and wrote to me to tell me how much he liked them.  During my career in Clinical Research that spanned over 40 years, I often found myself surprised at the lack of clarity in the writing of young professionals in my industry, especially in emails.  In this case I was positively surprised.  The man was a natural!

The “Authentic” played in the park again in August, and I was there.  We still didn’t have a chance to speak, except for a mutual nod.  But afterwards, I received another email from Maurice, thanking me for attending.

After my job ended in October, I wasn’t in the city very much.  But every now and again, we exchanged emails.  Finally, at the end of May, I heard from Maurice that he had organized the “Authentic Minds College Fair” to be held on June 11 at the Martin Luther King Recreation Center in the heart of Brewerytown.  Would I be able to attend and take pictures?

I was intrigued. Brewerytown is a badly blighted ghetto neighborhood in North Philadelphia.  Oh, my GOODNESS!  Maurice did not only “talk the talk,” but he was proving that he also “walked the walk”—and Bigtime!  How could one young man, with or without a mission, accomplish this single-handedly?

Along with the invitation was the promise of a bonus guided walking tour of his “hood.”  “You’ll get photos like you’ve never imagined!”

No way was I missing the Authentic Minds College Fair.  No way in Hell!

Basketball Court at the Martin Luther King Recreational Center

Brewerytown

The story will continue over the weeks that follow.  As I came to know Maurice , the man he is, and where life is leading him, so will you.  You will not want to miss any of this tale of Relentless Pursuit, as it unfolds.

Lyrics to "Shining Star" (by Maurice Hayman)
[Listen to it here ]

Chorus:

No matter who you are
No matter where you are
You control your future baby you’re a shining star
I know it gets hard got you screaming out to GOD
But I know that you can make it baby you’re a shining star

Verse 1

To all my people with a dream and some hope for the future
That do it with the spirit of the great Martin Luther
To all my fallen soldiers* I’ll remember you forever
No longer with me now but where you are is so much better
I send a hundred prayers and my love for the youth
That grow up in the city like some battlefield troops
The sky is not ceiling and the ground is not the bottom
You make the choice to add to the solution or the problem
If knowledge is power education is like money
Strong mind so divine you can't take a thing from me
A soldier out for peace but a general for justice
Make every word and every thought I speak be full of substance
To bring a new perspective from my inner city ghetto
Where every day the innocent falls victim to the metal**
We paint another mural and we close another chapter
We only pay attention during natural disasters
But I say its time to wake up
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   *   A reference to Maurice's cousin and best friend who was murdered in a gang dispute
  **  During a recent weekend in Philadelphia in the summer of 2011, 32 people were shot on the   streets

Verse 2

So I think about new Orleans
And I think about my Haitians
And pray for the forgiveness of this great corrupted nation
Up early in the morning so I sit and wait patient
As I listen to the garbage that they’re playing on the station
Sex, money, murder we accelerate our death
And sell our soul for pennies till there aint a nickel left
Chains and your rims not a property or business
Then turn around and be the first ones as a witness
Telling all the stories to the judge and the jury
The streets aren’t ever loyal and don’t offer you any glory
That’s word to the victims of a bullet or addicts of that crack
Each moment is a gift and you can never get it back
Get on track you only live once
Can't spend your every moment on the corner puffing blunts*
Or killing off your own with that “D” **
So you can stunt *** when you get the potential to be anything you want
Homie**** time to switch it up

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     * Blunts are cigars that have had their tobacco emptied and replaced with marijuana
   ** "D" refers to the slang word, "Diesel," meaning heroin
  *** To stunt is to show off your expensive stuff
**** A Homie is someone "more than a friend"

Verse 3

See I made a vow to make a difference
The things that I’ve witnessed
And do it for my cousins facing time missing Christmas
Coke on the dishes; books in the trash
A negative equation I saw it everyday in class
Girls living fast young, getting knocked up
Daddy on the gristle* with the goonies getting locked up
Now they got us boxed up
Living in America the beautiful the irony caught in the hysteria
We have to educate the youth and lead them to the light
Man its crazy that I think of ya’ll like every time I write
I always keep it real so you feel and know the deal
Of a young black soldier on this urban battlefield
Where the cops hate your skin and the jobs aren’t paying
So you're patient in the storm on your grind just praying
Patient waiting the world is for the taking
No matter who you are
And where you are
You can make it

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  * gristle is hard work

** goonies are your gang or click


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Additional Photographs from the Love Park Concerts
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On Stage

Littles Fan

the Authentic's serious side

Sound Test

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  All photographs by Michelle Alton

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Will to Survive

Mike Clime, with whom I've been acquainted online for several years, does most of his talking through the art of his photography. What little I know about him I've discerned through his collection of images. So imagine my surprise and delight when he offered to share a story on my blog!

From the title, you know that the theme revolves around man's relentless will to survive.  I think you'll find Mike's harrowing story to be riveting and an eye-opener!

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Thanks for stopping here to see the latest post. I'd love to know what you think of the "Relentless Pursuit" series. Please leave a comment below for the author or email me with your suggestions on what you'd like to see on this blog. Also, click the green SU icon at the bottom of this post to recommend the blog to Stumble Upon members. It will dramatically increase the "exposure" of our authors' work.

If you have a story to post on this theme, contact me. And be sure to take a look at my Photography site. I'd love to hear from you! Also, consider forwarding the link to "Relentless" to your friends and family. Thanks again!
--
Michelle Alton

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Will to Survive (Click on a photo to enlarge it)

Since the age of 18, I have been a deer hunter.  In fact, in the past 41 years, I’ve only missed one Season!  If readers are offended by hunting, I offer this:  Hunting actually strengthens the deer population by weeding out the weaker and less intelligent animals, allowing the strong and smart deer to reproduce and enhance the gene pool.

Aware of Me

There were three of us when we first started hunting-- my Dad, his friend Virgil, and me.  In those days, we considered ourselves lucky if we even saw a deer, let alone shot one.  Today, deer are so ubiquitous that the Conservation Department requires hunters to purchase a doe tag too even if the intention is to hunt for a buck.  Since the goal of the hunting season is to thin the deer population, leaving a doe alive allows her to breed and produce one or two fawns each year.  So, you pay double for the privilege. 

As an aside,  by the time I buy my license, drive up and back, stay in a hotel for two nights and take my deer to the locker for processing, I have spent over $1,000 for two days of hunting!

Anyway, over that 41-year period our deer party swelled to 12 people or more though it has now shrunk back to six, with the ages ranging from the mid 50’s to the mid 70’s.  We hunt in Southeast Iowa.  Most people think of Iowa as being flat, but that is far from the truth.  The area where we hunt is very hilly with deep ravines.  This is a story from one of our hunts back in 1977.

Doe in Pachysandra          (photo by M. Alton)

We always go first to Virgil’s property to hunt.  On this day, it was four degrees (F) below zero.  I drove my pickup down to his place.  Later that day we decided to go to Tom’s farm to hunt.  His farm has 500 acres of timber.  None of us had ever hunted there before.  I left my truck at Virgil’s and rode over with my Dad to Tom’s place.
When we all got there, we proceeded to the timber area which is about a half mile from the buildings on the farm.

Backyard Herd    (Photo by M. Alton)

I hadn’t gone half a mile before I encountered a pond.  For some reason, I decided that I should be on the other side of it.  The pond is in a deep ravine-- naturally!  I made the decision to cross the ice.  It was only about three steps to the other side.  On my second step, I broke through the ice and fell all the way in.  Without panicking, I threw my gun up onto the bank and grabbed a small tree to pull myself out.  I yelled for help.  My Dad came over.

Dad was an old-fashioned sort of guy who was never openly loving or demonstrative.  And yet, he was a wonderful man—a much loved school teacher.  After his death, the school district honored him by naming an award for him.

For some reason, on this day, Dad wasn’t especially helpful.  (I still love him—God rest his soul).  He died in 1994, while doing chores on his farm.  But that is a tale for another day.

Soaking wet, shivering,  and frozen, I told him I was going back to the truck.  He must have forgotten to give me the keys, and I didn’t realize that they weren’t in the truck.  In the zub-zero temperature, my wet clothes instantly froze.

My next decision was to head East to the road, which I thought was closer, rather than trying to trek back South to the farmstead.  I ended up walking more than a mile, through the timber, shivering hard, until I finally came to the road.  My gloves were frozen on my hands and my arm was frozen in the position of carrying my gun over my shoulder.  I could have been one of those “mannequin mimes” you see busking for dollars in city squares.

Luckily, there happened to be a truck coming down the road so I stood in the middle of the road and motioned wildly for him to stop.  He and his passengers were deer hunters too, and I explained what had happened.  They offered me a pint of brandy and a ride.  I think I drank the whole thing quickly which turned out NOT to be a very good idea.  Again, I will spare you the details of that story.

When I got back to the truck, I could not find the keys since Dad had taken them with him. I could not start the truck or run its heater.  The guys hunted very slowly as we have to use shotguns and you have to be very patient and stealthy. You see, a shotgun shoots a slug that is only accurate for 100 yards, and that is a very long shot through the trees in the woods.  So you have to walk very slowly and as quietly as possible to be able to sneak up close enough to get a clear shot.

No clear shot!  (Photo by M. Alton)

I think it was about two hours later when they finally returned.  All that time, I was sitting with my teeth chattering and body shaking mightily.  My Dad took me back to get my truck, and I was somehow able to drive myself back to Dad’s farm.

When I got there, my wife had to help me get my clothes and gloves off as they were still frozen to my body.  She ran some warm water in the tub, and I slowly eased myself in to soak.

I recovered fully and did not even get a cold from it—although, I do have a spot on one shin that doesn’t grow hair on it anymore.  Actually, I believe that the extreme cold probably saved my life!  If it had been warmer, my clothes would have stayed wet instead of instantly freezing, and I probably would have become hypothermic.  Even to this day I would prefer to avoid cold weather, but if I’m going hunting, I’ll brave it happily.

Three in One

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and I can attest to that after living through the frozen pond ordeal.  I’m sure I would now have the mental fortitude to handle almost anything that Nature imposes on me.  But nevertheless, I’m hoping that I passed my last major test in that winter of 1977.

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  Unless otherwise noted, all photography by Mike Clime

Mike's Bio Sketch:

Mike was born in Iowa and grew up in Ottumwa, IA. His wife was born and raised in Ottumwa too. The couple moved to St. Louis after college where Mike taught Junior High school for one year. They then moved to Mt. Pleasant Iowa where he taught High School for several years. He then went back to being a student and ended up  in St. Louis again, working for Ameren and training people how to operate the electrical grid.

Both kids live in Kansas City where the Climes hope to move when they retire. Only one baby left at home and that is Cody, my his German Shorthaired Pointer.

You can view more of Mike's photographs here.

A small eclectic sampling of his work follows:

Mike's Bonus Shots:

Penny Lane (Nova Scotia)

Aglow (Chicago)

Iowa Sunset

Enchanted

YAHSOF

Solitude (Nova Scotia)

Clipper Deluxe

Smile

Stiff Neck (Philadelphia)

Cove Explorer

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*** I Need Your Story! *** { I'm Serious!}If you have a story to post on this theme, contact me, please! We haven't a single story on tap. I'm working on one, but it won't be ready in time for next week. Please consider sharing your tales of Relentless Pursuit! And I'd be appreciative if you also take a look at my Photography site. I'd love to hear from you!--
Michelle Alton

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[Note: The green SU symbol below stands for "Stumble Upon," a very popular website for recommending internet content for us very busy folk! If you click it, you can write a very short--one liner-- recommendation for this blog. It can dramatically increase our readership, and our authors' exposure. Thanks!]

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On Snake Mountain

Bob Cammarata

As a wildlife photographer, Bob has become a popular contributor to "Tales of Relentless Pursuit." It is a matter of pure coincidence that this amazing snake adventure is being presented so soon after Nancy Hovey's story of how she overcame her snake phobia!  Nancy, this story will certainly test your progress!

So get ready to increase your respect for the intrepid Mr. Cammarata, as you relive with him his day of extreme adventure on Snake Mountain!  The photographs are paralyzingly good!

If you have not had the opportunity to read Bob's previous posts, here are links to them:

"When Mother Nature Lends a Hand"

"Next Stop Oz"

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Thanks for stopping here to see the latest post. I'd love to know what you think of the "Relentless Pursuit" series. Please leave a comment below for the author or email me with your suggestions on what you'd like to see on this blog. Also, click the green SU icon at the bottom of this post to recommend the blog to Stumble Upon members. It will dramatically increase the "exposure" of our authors' work.

If you have a story to post on this theme, contact me. And be sure to take a look at my Photography site. I'd love to hear from you! Also, consider forwarding the link to "Relentless" to your friends and family. Thanks again!
--
Michelle Alton

________________________

If you ask any group of individuals to describe Paradise, you will likely end up getting varying responses. Some may fantasize about a leisurely stroll along a deserted tropical beach…with soft sand scrunching between tired toes as gentle ocean breezes caress the body and soul. Others may envision lounging pool-side at the Ramada at some exotic locale sipping Pina Coladas and snacking on Shrimp Cocktail while foregoing the concerns of the day. But surely, someone within the group in defining their interpretation of Paradise might mention The Garden of Eden…even though there was but one serpent there.

I call the place Snake Mountain and for good reason. Nestled in the heart of central Appalachia, it’s a foreboding place, desolate and wild, oft intimidating but I dare to consider it my own personal Paradise. This story chronicles one truly special day on the Mountain…a day which would surely have left Adam and Eve trembling in their fig leaves!

It was a warm, sunny July morning as I navigated the deserted road up toward the secluded summit of Snake Mountain where the timber rattlers call home. Locating and photographing poisonous timber rattlesnakes in their own environs represents obvious challenges. The chance of being bitten, while extremely remote,  certainly weighs heavily upon the mind but of greater concern is being able to safely navigate the treacherous, rocky terrain in which they thrive. The greatest challenge of all though is actually FINDING one…since the secretive timbers tend to spend most of their day underground or otherwise hidden from view.

My arrival time at the summit was around mid-morning and I began gearing up. High-top leather boots and a firm hiking staff would, as in previous trips, aid in navigating the rocky crags…hopefully without mishap. I’d chosen to travel light that day, with just one camera body with a 105 mm lens slung over my shoulder. Previous trips to the Mountain earlier that year and most of last year had proven uneventful so I felt hesitant to strap on my usual heavy back-pack full of gear for what would likely end up being nothing more than yet another wasted walk in the woods. But this was a new day and I set off down the trail toward one of my favorite haunts with renewed hope that today would somehow be different.

A short time later, I spotted my first rattlesnake near an old den site. This was really a great find since I hadn’t seen a rattler there in over three years. As the snake quickly uncoiled and bolted toward the entrance of the den, I hurried forward to try to get off a quick shot or two before it disappeared. In my haste, I spooked a second one which had been basking nearby and it too, quickly vanished from view. I carefully and meticulously tip-toed around the den to the other side and in doing so, nearly stepped on a third rattler. Measuring nearly four feet long, it was stretched out full-length on some rocks completely out in the open!

The sunning snake immediately reacted to my presence and flattened it’s body as if to appear even larger and more intimidating to this would-be intruder. A few tongue flicks tasted the air as the hefty rattler circled its thickened form into a defensive coil.
Now this was more like it…no wasted walk today!

From what I considered a safe distance, I was able to capture multiple frames of the energetic reptile before leaving it to go on it’s way. A short time later, I spotted a fourth rattler and realized that this was evolving into a truly special day.

My personal record of five sightings in one day occurred many years ago and it seemed apparent that I was well on my way toward shattering that long-standing record. While an extensive search of the area eventually yielded #5, my record breaker seemed an unattainable goal. With my confidence beginning to wane, I decided to search another area and hiked a long trail toward a rocky ridge I’d discovered the previous summer . Even though I’d never actually seen a rattlesnake there, the habitat contained all of the requisite “ingredients” so it certainly seemed worth a try.

Don't Tread on Me

My explorations in the new spot were rewarded early when I spotted a colorful copperhead snake tucked into a tight crevasse. It was oblivious to my presence and I was able to ease my camera in really close for a few intimate portraits. That copper was a great find and a bonus, but I was on a mission.  I left the copperhead to go about its business and set off in search of that elusive sixth rattlesnake.

Over an hour had passed and I again began to lose confidence. Exhaustion from the heat of the sun and the stress of scrambling around rocky cliffs all day was beginning to take its toll and it was becoming evermore difficult to stay focused. As my mind wandered further, I found myself finding photographic interest in the simplest of life forms that normally wouldn’t even warrant a second look. A weird looking clump of colorful moss caught my eye and I immediately began composing images in my mind’s eye.

“What could I do with this?” “Should I get low or shoot it from above?” “How would I light it?” I even ventured so far as to play with the moss with my hiking stick…feeling its texture.

It was about then that I realized that it had been a REALLY long day!
What made matters even worse was that I was so focused on that useless clump of moss that I failed to noticed that Rattler #6...the record breaker, was coiled and staring at me from five feet away!

It was a really big one too…definitely over four feet, maybe five. It was dark-phased and recently shed…a truly beautiful specimen! We seemed to react to each other at exactly the same instant and the large viper violently rattled its tail in defiance then quickly uncoiled and raced toward the sanctuary of a nearby boulder. I could still hear the big snake buzzing as it descended deeper and deeper into the bowels of Snake Mountain’s clandestine inner core. I was somewhat saddened at not having rewarded myself a single shot of so pristine a specimen but as I plotted my course back to the car, I felt satisfied in the knowledge that a record had fallen that day.

As I traversed the top of the ridge on my way back, a muffled, barely audible buzzing sound instinctively stopped me in my tracks. It was very faint and only lasted a fraction of a second. I was sure that I’d imagined it but I remained motionless as I visually scanned the surrounding area.

Right there in front of me, coiled on top of a huge boulder was another big timber rattlesnake. This was another “darkie”. It was the blackest one I’d ever seen!
And best of all, this newest discovery was completely unaware of my presence so it would be a prime photographic subject. But the handsome snake rested in a perilous position near the edge of a cliff…and since I was armed with only a 105 mm lens, I was much too far away.

I scanned the surrounding rocks to plot the least precarious course which might get me closer and to my amazement, I spotted another big snake ten feet to the left of the other one. (…since we’re still keeping score…that’s #7 and #8.)

In complete contrast, this other rattler sported the more traditional color pattern typical for the species. I momentarily abandoned my quest to get closer to “Ol’ Blackie” and realized that to effectively illustrate both color morphs, I had to somehow figure out a way to get both snakes in the same frame. …But how??

They were too far apart and the angle of perspective on my 105 mm was far too narrow. I couldn’t even back up for fear of falling off a 20 foot cliff to a certain death. Then, as if on cue, the lighter snake slowly uncoiled, crawled toward Blackie and re-coiled right next to it. This was a gift from Heaven! (…Hey, maybe this really WAS Eden?)
Now, it was simple to get both snakes in the same frame…and actually live to tell about it!

Rattlers Light and Dark Phase

…But it soon got even better!

A colorful copperhead snake obligingly emerged from a crack in the rocks directly behind the two timber rattlers and I was quick to recompose to include this newest member to join the party. I’d always known that rattlesnakes and copperheads coexist (They’ve even been known to den together in winter.) but now I have photographic proof!

Pit Vipers a"Trois

I remained with the trio for nearly an hour observing and documenting their behavior. All the while, they were totally unconcerned with my temporary intrusion into their shadowy world. In observing how the two timbers were interacting, I would have bet that they were a mated pair. Toward the end of the session, Blackie uncoiled and crawled over to a different rock from its mate. (..a lover’s spat, perhaps?) It was then that I decided to leave but before I made my way off that ridge, I spotted one final rattler.

#9 was a photogenic and feisty youngster…likely less than a year old. This was a fitting end to the perfect day.

Feisty

And so the legend of Snake Mountain lives on. Through years of exploration I’ve witnessed what was feared a declining population. Throughout their extensive range, timber rattlesnake numbers are a mere fraction of what they once were and with so few sightings in recent years, I was afraid that the “wrong element” had discovered the tiny island pockets of timbers struggling to survive in my tiny Eden nestled within the vastness of the Appalachian Wilds.

That special day along “Blackie’s Ridge” offered renewed hope for the future of the species but one must be ever vigilant and enigmatic to ensure the continued survival and prosperity of these misunderstood, often maligned members of our natural world
…As Don Henley eloquently quipped in an old Eagles song, “You call someplace Paradise…kiss it goodbye.”

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Bob's Bio:

I am a Maryland photographer who specializes in nature in all its forms. For as long as I can remember, my love for the outdoors has inspired me to capture nature's beauty and intrigue. My primary interests photographically involve traveling the country and getting up close and personal with subjects in nature. My travels have taken me to every corner of the U.S. and parts of Canada but in today’s economy, it’s becoming evermore difficult to plan a road trip unless it’s all downhill! I prefer to shoot in full-manual 100% of the time because I believe that it affords the ultimate in control and accurately represents the challenges and rewards that this great art has to offer. I’m an active member of BetterPhoto.com and a regular contributor to their Forums and Newsletters. My photos have been published in business brochures and on Bugguide and other popular wildlife sites and many have been sold as fine art prints. Lately though, I do this for fun.

I believe photography to be the therapy which keeps one sane in a crazy world.

Feel free to visit my website at http://www.cammphoto.com/ .

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  All photos by Bob Cammarata

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Bob Cammarata's Bonus Photos

Ol' Blackie

Head to Head

A Promise for the Future
(newborn timber rattlesnakes at a den site)

"6 6 6"

                                                           

Hognose Snake

                                                                           

Northern Copperhead

Temptation

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