The Assistant’s Journal

Let me preface this by saying that I am not “tough” nor particularly athletic. I like air-conditioned places and computer screens. My ideal nature experience is a couple-mile hike, carrying no more than binoculars and chapstick. I’m kind of a wuss and I freely admit that.

What does an assistant, who spends most of her time battling computers in the office, look like after a seven-mile bike ride in 90-degree heat with photo gear on her back? About like this:

Don’t get me wrong — the Everglades are beautiful and the wildlife, especially the birds, is pretty amazing. But if you’re like me and you come here and it’s that hot, take the bus tour and skip the bikes.

The observation tower that we rode to provided a great view of the very Pantanal-like scenery here. We didn’t leave until sundown, and most of the ride was in the dark. What do alligators (who come out after dark to lay around on the bike path which is still warm from the heat of the day) look like in the dark? Inky black spots that may or may not resemble shadows. Mostly they stick to the side of the road, but if you see a seven-foot-long inky black shadow in the middle of the road ten feet away while you’re on your bicycle, swerve just in case.

The other essential for wusses like me here in swamp country is bug repellent, especially at dusk. I’ve donated at least a pint of blood to the swamp ecosystem since we got here. The other night while lighting leopard frogs with flashlights so Joel could get his macro shot, I got three mosquito bites on one knuckle, which subsequently swelled up to the size of a ping pong ball. Did you know those guys can bite through clothing? DEET is my new friend.

One thing that’s amazed me about Miami (which is where we’re working out of since a lot of facilities in the park proper were wiped out by the hurricane) is how few people know about the Everglades. It’s literally an hour or so from their front door and there’s nothing else like it anywhere in the US. It’s a much-overlooked jewel that I hope more people will come visit (with proper insect repellant) and start to care about.

Through the kindness of a couple of folks, I’m at the Conservation Photography Symposium in Anchorage this week. Some of my friends get excited about running into regional rock stars at parties. I’m too much of a nerd for that. However, I have been wandering around for three days, mouth agape, and staring shamelessly at the photographers gathered here. I’ve been shamelessly shaking hands with them, just to prove to myself that they actually do exist as real people and not just a byline.

Wow.

WOW.

Lots of talent gathered here.

Oh, The Archway. Do they really call it a museum? Maybe I’m a museum snob, but tape loops and concrete do not a learning experience make. It puts itself forth as a technological marvel (the lights rise and fade in time with the story, and the headsets somehow know where you are in the walk-through. Still, listening to the static between sections seemed a little 1950s, like looking at a robot dishwasher. I thought the most interesting part were the windows where you can look down on the interstate. How ’bout putting a transportation museum over the interstate? Now that would be an appropriate use of taxpayer dollars. Recordings that paint a broad-strokes version of the overland migration, not so much.

This is just one nerd’s opinion, though. I guess a lot of the information up there might new to some of the people who pass through.

The spectre of going digital has long hovered over us at JS Inc. Fortunately, Joel is able to shoot film most of the time. That’s good for archiving, logistics, and aesthetics. We’re trying not to be completely taken by surprise by the switch, so we headed out to Greeley on Sunday to be educated by one of the finest minds in the field, Erik Stenbakken. If you want to know how to shoot digitally and save about a year of frustration, call Erik and pay the man handsomely to give you a one-on-one workshop. It’s worth it.

Now, pictures from the journey having almost nothing to do with digital photography…

A month ago, one of the kids spilled milk in the back seat of the truck. Over the following weeks, it festered and started to smell awful. Joel resourcefully left the truck windows down to air it out. It smelled great, and then it rained on Sunday soaking the seats. Joel MacGuyvered some Glad bag seat covers:

It continued to rain and it got colder, and then the rain froze to the windshield. I might mention that the driving conditions were horrifying, so we were only going 35 on I-80. Therefore, leaning out the window to scrape ice off the windshield wasn’t completely foolhardy.

Joel demonstrates his sunflower seed salt-extraction technique:

Pistachios require manual extraction:

Last but not least, a small sampling of the information we tried to fit into our heads over the course of ten hours:

It really opened a new perspective on handling digital files. Simplicity is key, folks, simplicity is key.

You know that part on my main page about me having had all my shots? Well, I never thought that being fully vaccinated would come in handy in my line of work until today. Joel’s accountant was out hunting and found this abandoned farmhouse in the middle of a field, and it was full of bulls-eye trim, an antique, relatively hard-to-find style that Joel really likes. Joel also likes spending days ripping up old houses like this one, so as soon as his accountant told him about it, he was on the phone asking the landowners if he could harvest the trim.

The boss-man spent two days on top of a precariously positioned ladder crow-barring trim and ornamental woodwork loose from this house. Did I mention it was February? Well, the first two days were balmy, comparatively speaking – around 35 or 40 degrees. But, on the day Joel asked his humble assistant to come out, it was ten above with a wind chill of twenty below. If you think I’m kidding, check weather.com.

So, wrapped in more layers than King Tut, we ventured out toward Malcolm, where the farmhouse is located. It had been so long since this farmhouse was abandoned that there weren’t even tire tracks leading up to it.

“So what do you think?”
“Lovely, Joel, just lovely.”
“Okay, now to get across the room without falling through the floor, step here first, then here, and avoid that board.”
“Gotcha.”
“And try to stay at least three feet away from me, especially on the north side of the house. The floor’s about ready to go, and having two people in one place is just asking for trouble.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“How many times did you fall through the floor in the last two days?”
“About three, but only up to my knee, and don’t tell Kathy.”

So, for the next hour or so, we hauled wainscotting out to his truck, and there was a lot of it – he now has a half of a garage full of beautiful, historically accurate bulls-eye trim.

“Say, did you see that bathtub over there?”
“You mean that big claw-footed one that probably weighs about 300 pounds?”
“Yup – you think we can carry it?”
“Or at least throw out our backs trying.”
“That’s the spirit, Katie H!”

You wanna know why there hasn’t been an entry in two months? Well I’ll tell you. First, I have three…no four…jobs this summer, so I’m a little busy. Second, that nasty little bug called leishmaniasis recurred. Joel’s been on chemo since the beginning of this month, so he’s been stuck at home. Since he has about three good hours a day, he decided he wanted to try to spend them on a ladder. We prepped and painted the entire front side of his house, and it was completely miserable. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why the man likes to torture himself so much. I mean, any normal person would call it quits if they had an arsenic derivative coursing through their veins. Not Joel. It’s actually kind of interesting – using a power sander is fun, and I get to hold the ladder while he struggles with a big storm window and makes lots of funny grunting noises. I’m firmly convinced the man is insane. We hung all the windows and shutters back up now, and the house looks *beautiful.*

In other news, we got our new scanner, and the SCSI card installed without creating an IRQ conflict and causing drives to disappear. I was elated…shocked, but elated. Let’s see…what else is going on. I got hired to shoot the wind turbines out north of town. They would want it around the time of the summer solstice, too. It was light out by 5:00 – I kid you not. I was out there at 4:45 and still didn’t get that nifty “first rays” look I was after. There’s nothing like standing out in a cornfield at 5:00 AM wet up to your neck from dew and muddy to your knees. I wanted nothing more than a cup of coffee and scrambled eggs with ketchup.

Joel’s medication laid him down for a couple of days — so badly, in fact, that he ended up watching TV. He came across that Survivor show (where a bunch of people are stuck on a desert island). All he could say was “Weenies! There are no bugs on that island! They have all the rice they want, and they don’t have to work. Looks like FUN to me. Weenies!” Here at Joel Sartore Photography, we continually redefine “hard core.”

We worked on a shoot in Lincoln today. Since it’s summer, the light’s good early in the morning…like 5:45. This beats pigs. We were in the farmer’s market even before the farmers themselves (which makes me wonder.) So we went to photograph the capital building for kicks. In case you’ve never seen it, this monstrosity is sits on a lot the size of four city blocks. I lugged a tripod around this lot.

I run releases on this shoot — in order to use people’s image, you have to have their permission. So, while Joel does his “very focused gnat” thing, where he flits from subject to subject with an amazing intensity, I scramble behind with the papers. I lost him for a little while in the crowd but soon spotted him on a fire escape. I waited for a good twenty minutes, and he finally looks down. “Katie H! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!’

“I’ve been here for a while.”
“How did you find me?”
“When in Rome…”

“Hey Katie H…”
“Yeah?”
“You know how you asked about going on a shoot with me?”
“Yes…”
“What are you doing at 6:00 AM tomorrow morning?”

And that’s how I wound up, cold and shivering, in a pig sty, at 6 AM on a Saturday morning. Several people had called requesting tight shots of pig snouts, and we had none. Joel decided to remedy the situation. A farmer in Bennett, Nebraska, was kind enough to let us photograph his pigs. We left at 6:00 because that let us get there and “case the joint” before the light got good.

The previous day had a high of 80 degrees, so I figured with two shirts and a jacket, I’d be okay. Wrong! It was around 35 degrees, if that, spitting rain every few minutes, with a wind chill of probably ten degrees. Joel hadn’t dressed for it either and had all sorts of fun trying to keep his hand warm.

Pigs are pretty disgusting creatures. I’ve read all sorts of articles about how they’re really clean and sanitary, but folks, I’ve seen ‘em live. They eat each other’s poop. How sophisticated is that? But wait…it gets better. To get the kind of tight shots people are looking for, he had to use a long lens — 600 mm. Lenses this long have to be used on a tripod, preferably with a cable release, but since it was so windy, it wasn’t doing us any good. Joel went to “Plan B.” He slapped on the wide-angle lens, pre-focused at a distance of about two feet, and then leaned over a concrete fence, holding his $2,000 F5 about 3/4 of an inch above the pig muck. Pigs are curious, and so they’d snort and snuffle right up to the lens.

“Oh yeah…that’s what we’re looking for! Come to papa…” As well as being talented, Joel is very entertaining.

Joel’s wife complains about how his propensity to shoot several rolls of film while they’re trying to have a family event drives her insane. Around roll five, I start to sympathize. It’s raining, and windy. I can’t feel my toes, and the light still sucks. Joel “hard core” Sartore keeps shooting. I don’t want to look like a wuss, so I hang in and try not to complain. Joel can’t put his hands in his pockets to warm up, so he’s got it worse than I do.

Roll six – Joel tells me to go warm up the car, and I gladly oblige. It’s about 9:30 now. I’ve been awake for five hours already, and hot coffee sounds really good.