The colloquialism in the title of this post is the racetrack equivalent of “Go to war with the army you’ve got.” I didn’t have a photographic equivalent, so I’ll have to write one someday and utilize the racing version for now. I had finished watching a niece’s volleyball game at Fort Lincoln Elementary and saw a nice sunset developing, so I did what I had to: bolt to the nearest known photo subject. In this case, and given the letter “E” adjacent to my truck’s gas gauge needle, Fort Abraham Lincoln was the most logical choice.

I started with the above shot. Stereotypical. Unremarkable. I really prefer the blockhouses with the railings on top. Okay…time to work the area a little bit…

The clouds were changing quickly and it looked like the horizon was about to be obscured, but I did have time to try something else. Taking a position far away from the blockhouses had proven uninspiring, so I decided to get close and still try to capture some of the wispy clouds while they remained overhead. I figured the blockhouses had little else to offer tonight given the sky conditions, so I did a 180.

Now that’s what I’m talking about. The full size version of this photo is much more pleasing due to its detail in the fall colors, but I don’t want to post a photo that big here. It was the shot I was looking for, however, in order to satisfy my criteria for a successful photo trip: come home with at least one photo I really like…even if it’s the only one from the trip that turned out well.

About that time I noticed the National Guard guys practicing autorotations with a Blackhawk over at the Mandan Airport, so I hung out to watch the frivolity and snap a couple more last minute blockhouse shots. The clouds had changed yet again and were providing a dash of color and light in the sky overhead, and I wanted to milk this trip for all it was worth. Success. Then it was time for home and little relaxation to go with my satisfaction.

We’ve got another man down, Dude

In a friend’s backyard, no less! I was out poking around with my camera before dinner and enjoying the extremely rural Dakota atmosphere when I noticed something in the grass. Closer inspection revealed that it was a windmill head from the early 1900s. What is it with me and old windmills, anyway?

As a mountain and city kid, I don’t know why I find these artifacts so intriguing, but I do. I’ve joked from time to time that in North Dakota’s vast expanse of prairie, anything sticking up more than a few feet can be considered a landmark. More honestly, I think they have more of a connotation of the pioneer spirit, the hardiness that it takes to farm a section of North Dakota land. For every windmill there’s a story of someone who put it there. I suppose that’s the real fascination.

Buildings amd mountains…well, okay…buildings

We had a pretty dramatic, golden-orange sunset several nights ago…and my boys and I were there to capture it. It’s always characteristic of others’ misfortune, when forest or grass fires plague areas north and/or west of us: the smoke makes for some amazing sunsets.

We haven’t had much for clouds lately, at least not at sunset, but this particular evening was pretty well adorned. I have a “secret spot” that’s the best place to take such sunset photos of the capitol, and permission to be there, so we bolted to catch the combination of color and clouds before going home for story time and bunk beds.

The Sunset Song of the Day for this photo is an old favorite of mine, “Buildings and Mountains,” by The Republic Tigers (iTunes link). It’s also a great song for a road trip through the wide open plains with those beautiful North Dakota skies overhead.

A light unto my path

The colors, they are a-changing. If you are into the fall foliage, I suggest walking the Lewis & Clark recreational trail in Mandan. I ventured out after work last Thursday and walked most of the trail before running out of daylight, and the colors are in full effect. I noticed last night that River Road is becoming quite the spectacle, too.

One thing about fall in North Dakota is that it doesn’t last long – get out and enjoy those fall colors while they last! Before long they’ll be gone for the year.

Pilings-on and a double-barreled Sunset Song of the Day

After work today I took off with my camera to walk much of the Lewis & Clark trail along the Missouri River in Mandan, starting from the northwest trailhead. While I took a lot of photos of the changing leaves and meandering dirt path, some of which I may post later, I really had a goal of taking a photo of the old wooden pilings near the trailhead itself. Someone was about to begin a senior session down there, so I decided to walk a few miles first. I’m glad I did.

I returned to the truck right around sunset, with only the last bits of pink and purple remaining in the western sky. I got into position and eyeballed the shot, unsure whether I’d actually get an angle I liked. I did, as you can see, but I hadn’t brought my camera down to the rocky shore with me in case I didn’t like what I saw. I dashed back up before the light went away from me, returned for a quick setup and series of shots trying different things with fill flash and long exposures, then it was time to come home for some homemade chili.

Due to the amount of time spent walking, I had plenty of opportunity to select two songs for tonight’s Sunset Song of the Day. The first one is “Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand” by the Primitive Radio Gods (iTunes link) and the second is “Black Chow” by Big Spider’s Back (iTunes link). Both have a good tempo suitable for walking back to your truck at the end of a nice, long hike. They also set the mood for a relaxing purple-and-blue end to the evening, down by the river as it laps against the rocks.

Obama the lame duck

You wouldn’t know it as a consumer of the mainstream media, but there was a TEA Party rally in Bismarck this week. In fact, it was only one of several held on Constitution Day; rallies were also held in Fargo, Grand Forks, Jamestown, Minot, Dickinson, and Williston on Tuesday.

My little guys and I attended with our cameras. They started out taking pictures of flags and the capitol but soon discovered a bug. No, not a glitch – an actual insect, and a large one at that. That pretty much captured the attention of both little boys until one stomped on him.

It was encouraging to see Governor Dalrymple in attendance, listening intently to the scheduled speakers and concerned citizens who participated in open mic sessions. I eyeballed the signs and banners displayed but knew instantly that this little girl’s was my favorite: the lame duck. It was my boys’ favorite too, I believe…after they got to pet the duck!

Sky as canvas

“…stand still, and consider the wondrous works of God…Dost thou know the balancing of the clouds, the wondrous works of him which is perfect in knowledge?” –Job 37:14,16

I found myself in a unique position today just as my wife called to tell me about the beautiful clouds, looking as if painted upon the canvas of the sky. As usual I was doing some video work but took a second to employ a panoramic app for iOs and nab this shot. Puffy clouds, wispy clouds…they were all there, as if they’d been hand selected and nudged perfectly into place.


Naturally, once time allowed, I couldn’t help but jump into Photoshop for a couple of minutes to make a quick polar (spherical) version of the same shot. Even though I was only able to shoot a 180 degree pan, it still turned out okay due to some Photoshop trickery I learned a while ago.

This year I’ve developed a new love for September. I love the days which are warm, but not too warm. I embrace the cool mornings and used yesterday evening to follow up the TEA Party rally and sunset with a roaring bonfire. The crisp, clear nights are perfect for stargazing and, as I’ve noticed over the past several days, the clouds are quite remarkable.

The past six weeks have been a blur due to a hectic work schedule, culminating in a frenetic Week Six that delivered some marathon days but satisfying progress. Now that the major rush has subsided for the time being, I’m grateful for the opportunity to, as Job was instructed, stand still and consider the wondrous works of God. Wondrous indeed.

Three dudes silhouette

I’ve been working insane hours for the past several days and kept an aggressive schedule for the past six weeks. I hope for things to taper off a bit now, because I haven’t had a lot of leisure time lately. Not only do I want to do the usual motorcycle, camera, remote control truck, gun, and mountain bike stuff, but I also want to get back to time with my sweetie and, of course, “three dudes time.” That’s what my little towheads call it, and they love it. Me too.

At one time, I was that little Vietnamese girl

Last month I had the pleasure of meeting a missionary to Vietnam who works with orphaned children. A story he related while preaching at our church was the absolute perfect picture of my life, and I felt moved to share it.

One of the orphans he worked with, along with her sister, saw her daddy hang himself. The children were terribly traumatized, as you can imagine…and this particular little girl wouldn’t smile or talk to anyone. After a lot of work, she would smile and talk to Mike.

One day, she heard that he was coming to the village. She dressed up in her best clothes and prepared to come see him. While crossing a canal that was basically an open sewer, on a bridge consisting of a fallen tree laid across the canal, she slipped and fell into the sewage slop.

When he got there, she was crushed and reeked of all the stinky gunk that she was covered in, crying uncontrollably. Moved by the spirit, he knelt down, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek, and told her, “It’s okay, honey…I don’t care what you smell like, I love you anyhow.” The little girl was overjoyed. It was this gesture that convinced the communist authorities that he was the real deal, and that he loves those kids over there.

The same picture applies to the sinner being saved when he/she accepts Christ. I was in the same sorry shape as that little Vietnamese girl. I was covered in slop spiritually, things that would be putrid to an almighty and just God. Things like:

– the sin I was born with. We all are, since Adam. “Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned…” (Romans 4:12)

– the idea that I was basically a “good person.” “As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one…” (Romans 3:10)

– the sins I’d committed in my life, most notably, according to Jesus: “Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery: But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” (Matthew 5:27-28)

– the good I thought I’d done to make up for the bad. “But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses are as filthy rags…” (Isaiah 64:6)

– the religion that I thought would absolve me of my sins: “Howbeit in vain do they worship me, teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.” (Mark 7:7)

I was eternally stained with a load of foul, awful mess that neither I or any other man could never wipe clean. Neither could “religion.” I was stuck with it. My soul reeked with the disgusting mess of the sin I’d inherited and the slop I’d rolled around in for nearly thirty years. Yet God didn’t care about that. When I finally humbled myself and believed that I was a simple sinner in need of God’s mercy and grace, It was as if he knelt down, wrapped His arms around me, and told me, “It’s okay…I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve made a way for you…Jesus died for those sins. You’re clean in my eyes.” It was then that I knew for sure that God is real.

I remember that night, when the summation of all the witnessing by my Christian friends finally sunk in. I suppose I could simplify things into three choices. One, you could reject Jesus altogether. Two, you could claim to know Him, but trust in sacraments or good works to justify you in God’s sight. Or three, you can admit that you’re a sinner and only Jesus’ dying on the cross for your sins can save you. Only the third will save your eternal soul. The apostle John wrote in the Bible, “And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world.” (I John 2:2), “For he hath made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin; that we might be made the righteousness of God in him.” (2 Corinthians 5:21) That whole world includes you, me, and everybody. Not only did God love us, but he “washed us from our sins in his own blood” according to Revelation 1:5. But you’ve got to believe.

Spiritually, the lost sinner feels the same way as that little Vietnamese girl when he approaches God and trusts in Jesus for his eternal salvation…to be accepted and loved, when they feel filthy and unloveable. That was me several years ago. I just wanted to share that with you.

Photo credit: Man Him, Republic of Vietnam (modified for this post within Creative Commons license)

This post has been bumped up from May 3rd, 2008.

Power Station, or Some Like it Hot

I couldn’t help but give a little tribute to the 80s band with the title of this post. It’s relevant, after all; a power plant can be described quite simply. Despite all the wires, pipes, belts, machines, and computers, the purpose of a power plant is to make steam. The steam turns a turbine or two in order to generate electricity, but all the complex and massive functions of the plant essentially exist to make water really, really hot.

I was on my way to the Harmon Lake area to see if some astrophotography was in order when I spotted this view of Heskett Station. I pulled over at the nearest approach, took the Hoof Express back to a good camera location, and snapped a few shots. The moon was in just the right spot, and so was I. From there it was only a short hop north to Harmon and the decision that Saturday night was far too cold for this would-be photographer to be standing outside in a hoodie and light jacket. Thanks to the view above, though, I didn’t come home empty handed.