Always A New Adventure!
I revisted a past haunt and walked along the waterfront park and encountered the same experience as I did years ago-smiling people, relaxing on benches. I made conversation for a few and made my way into the old historic alleyways.
It's easy to pretend you are back in 1750, as not much has changed in the construction in that time and the houses are so well-maintained. To add to the unique energy of the nearing evening, a big storm approached Charleston. I watch big thunderheads moved in and heard the cracks of lightening. I stood gazing at the tallest church steeples just hoping, that I might see I nice bolt touch down. But with the coming of a hard downpour, I dodged into a restaurant.
After my shoot I was able to take in some more exploration of the old markets, watching the black women weave in Gullah style and had a convo with a potter that had recreated a glaze he found on a pottery shard at a colonial archeology site.
Then, with and hour and a half drive, I was into one of my dearest favs, Savannah. After some shooting, there was time to take in a pint and bangers and mash at a pub. I though it fitting that I spend July 3rd here, this land that remained loyal to England even after the Revolution.
After a little time back I was out again to areas a little closer to home. I made my way through central and northern Minnesota. Many of these regions I had explored in great depth last year, this time I would make may way through in a span of just over two weeks, for 23 shoots. I actually found many of the cabins quite charming and this stood in contrast to the musty beds I spent time in last year. Areas like Ottertail, Kabetogama, Nisswa, Crane Lake, Baudette and even up into Canada.
Of this stretch, it was Canada that brought the most adventure. It began with an hour and a half stop with customs. I just happened to get an immigration agent that had to cross every t and dot every i. He began by refusing to let me pass, then proceded to page through all of his binders, scrutinizing the words of NAFTA. After all that, I got in as a 'Business Visitor.'
My only shoot was about 3.5 hours over the border in Vermillion Bay. It was for a fly-in cabin resort company, that flew in Otters and Beavers float planes into the surrounding lakes.
The weather started to get crappy and the rain would not stop. Visibility was poor and winds were picking up. The people were friendly and Canucks through and through. Talking about da 'wicked' twister, 'eh' that came tru recently.
They were surprised that I was willing to go up. "You don't mind flying in rough weather?" I said I was up for it if they were. "Just so you don't shit yer pants!" But the woman behind the counter reassured me not to worry since she shit her pants in weather like this.
So, off we were up into the rainy sky. Keeping about 100 to 300 feet above the trees to keep site of the lakes and not lose ourselves in the clouds. Also important, we were trying to avoid colliding with the other planes up in the same sky. You'd the pilots let one another know where they were and you could peak and see a fellow flying about a mile away from you, at the same level.
We touched down onto at least 3 lakes, each touchdown made me more and more thankful as the pitching and rocking and dropping of the plane was making me green.
I'm actually glad I mentioned the fact to the pilot when I was on land, as he popped the only ventilation port, right near my face when we took off again. So, I kept my mind occupied with shooting and enhaled that sweet, sweet air through my nose to ward of the rubbing of my guts and perspiration and locking jaw that always proceeds you shitting yourself or puking. But, mission accomplished.
Now I am back to first do my part for the Mississippi River Challenge and then onto a week of escapades I will fill you in on a different time.
I hope your journeys, your time with your families and your summer days, treat you all well!
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