Both these shots were taken in the waning hours of daylight, so it is fitting that these are the last of my Panoramic 2008 review.

This first image was taken after nine pm at the wildlife viewing area at Canaan Valley State Park. We had finished our day of hiking Roaring Plains. In my memory of the year's great photos, this nightscape was eclipsed by The Rewards of Sleeping Late. It's a shame that the flashy image prevented me from seeing the subtle one. Looking back at the two images from that summer day, I imagine that over the long-run this "Nightscape Spruce" will be regarded as the better art.

This panoramic was taken last Fall at Dobbins Slashings—just north of Dolly Sods. It was dreadfully humid as we hiked up to the top of the Cabin Mountain range. The sky was thick summer gray. We dragged ourselves around Dobbins Slashings. The photos were not coming easily. We saw a bear rumble past us on the trail. I missed it. The sunset was barely visible through the haze. Before beginning our dark trek down the mountain, I used a telephoto lens to make this panoramic view of a copse of spruce.

When I returned to my studio and worked the images from that day, I was despondent. None of the shots appealed to me. The light was poor. Images were muddy. This shot was the only one with potential. I worked this image in Photoshop like a lump of clay. To call it processed would be a gross understatement. I finally converted it to black & white, using a bizarre balance of tone mapping, and put the image away until I rediscovered it last week. Dark, bleary, and desolate may be great words to describe this image and possibly even the mood in the Autumn of 2008. I have never been one to attempt to convey zeitgeist in my landscape photography—I'll leave that to the photojournalists—but this image comes pretty close.

Any day you hike the Highlands of West Virginia, at some point, you find yourself trudging over roots, rocks and boulders and then suddenly you stop—distracted from your revelry—turn your head left, then right. You sniff the brightly-dampened air. You are in a trance as you calculate the direction towards the sound of cascading water. Your steps become light as you become a bloodhound searching with sound and smell for the waterfall cascade. You turn sharply off the edge of the trail and descend steeply—a controlled slide—down the hillside. Branches slap your face. Leaves an dirt are driven up the back of your shirt. At the bottom—you are within sight of the waterfall—you slip-slide your way across moss-covered rocks to your glorious destination. Serenity overcomes you. Time and place become immutable, the moment eternal.

Sometimes as you dash to the base of the waterfall, you misjudge the slipperiness of the rocks, and you fall. Your brain is momentarily incapacitated. You are embarrassed by your foolish rush to the waterfall. That happened below this first panoramic. It is along the east bank of Red Creek in Dolly Sods. We spent an hour photographing this pretty little spot.

Pendleton Falls is one of those cascades that never ends. It tumbles its way down into Blackwater Canyon over dozens of smaller falls. The challenge of photographing it is to avoid photographing it all in one shot. This precious little corner of the falls was barely flowing during the dry summer of 2008.

Douglas Falls is a cool spot. You can easily walk or hike to it along the rail-trail. In the winter, the view is better because the trees aren't obscuring it. The boulders in the creek are a vibrant orange while the water has a Caribbean blue-green look to it. I'm not sure why this little creek is immune to the normal red-brown tannins that normally color the streams of the Highlands. My guess is that upstream the creek is treated with lime. This is frequently done so that creeks can better support fish and by extension fishermen.

In the West Virginia Highlands you really can't get far from a great creek. You know the kind where you can probably rock-hop across with ease, but occasionally, you dunk a boot into the water—ah, the joys of getting your feet wet. This first creek panoramic was taken along Seneca Creek. I can't quite explain what I like about this rather ordinary view, except to say that I keep getting drawn back into the image. It is funny how an image can initially seem ordinary, but after living with it, I grow to appreciate it more.

Otter Creek is one of those spots that I just can't visit often enough. As with any wilderness, Otter Creek is more magical the further you stray from a road. This shot was taken at the intersection of Moore Run and Otter Creek. I have never seen it as low as it was last October. When the water is higher, the swimming at this spot is fantastic, and the distance is just far enough to keep it from getting crowded.

On this hike, we happened upon an affectionate couple sprawled out on the smooth, sunny rocks. After disentangling herself from her partner, the young woman got to chatting. She explained that she had lost her watch, so she had no idea what time it was. I admired her good fortune and told her it was three o'clock. She was shocked. She had figured that it was only ten or eleven in the morning. What a great way to spend a day in the wilderness.

Our vacation this year consisted of a week at the cabin in Canaan Valley. We had a great time hiking, paddling, and touring around. We took a rainy-day excursion to Morgantown—we had never seen WVU. We also took a day trip down to New River Gorge. We didn't really set aside enough time to do any serious hiking, but we toured around the area and saw some of the highlights. This panoramic of the New River Gorge Bridge was taken from the overlook at the visitors center. I shot the six-image panoramic handheld and aligned the top of the bridge with the top of the images, resulting in an interesting, if exaggerated, angled view.

So to carry on my review of our 2008 adventures and photography, in July, we took a short (1200 mile) 4-day driving tour around North-central Pennsylvania—The PA Wilds as they call it . We got the idea to go and see the Eastern Traditional Archery Rendezvous. The "Rendezvous" had demonstrations, competitions, and vendors all focusing around traditional archery—using the same longbows and recurves that may have been used 300 or a thousand years ago. The cross-section of humanity at the Rendezvous ranged from pickup truck-driving lifetime NRA members through Mennonites, across medieval reenactors (think renfest) and ending at dreadlock-wearing back-to-nature hippies. We shot bows. I stung my wrist a few times. I took no photos. We had fun.

This first panoramic (above) was taken at Fort Leonard Harrison State Park along a beautifully steep little trail down into the Pine Creek canyon. They call this place "The Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania." It is a very pretty park, but if you are going to visit, don't let that get into your head to much; it will only disappoint you.

On the way back, we drove around the Pennsylvania Elk Country Scenic Drive. This little woodland scene unfolded to us after we marsh-mucked across a highland wetland area. I like how the humid air gives a glowing effect to the light behind the trees. On our drive, we saw a dozen, or so, elk—mostly in people's front yards. The cutest scene was an elk leaning over a fence into a goat's pen with the goat on its hind legs trying to sniff at the elk's nose.

One of our stops took us to the Kinzua Bridge. This 2,000 foot long 300 foot high iron bridge was built in 1882 and was, at the time, the highest bridge in the world. In 2003, an F1 tornado came through and knocked half of it down. The remains of the bridge lay like matchsticks in the bottom of the valley. I was rather dubious about visiting the site of a recently half-destroyed bridge, but I have to say that the historical information and the engineering detail that they provide about the bridge made the visit very interesting.

The Potomac River provides a narrow ribbon of wilderness through the Washington, DC metro area. From bouldering the Billy Goat Trail to bicycling the C&O Canal, we spent a lot of time around the Potomac River. The first panoramic was taken just north of Harpers Ferry while we were bicycling the canal. Two summers ago, we began our effort to bicycle the entire canal—albeit in segments. Between paddling, bicycling, and hiking the highlands, we aren't finishing fast, but we have completed from Georgetown to just past Shepherdstown. It has amazed me how many different natural environments exist along the canal. Some of the wildest landscape, believe it or not, is between Carderock and Great Falls Maryland. This segment is where the Billy Goat Trail runs between the canal and the river.

The Billy Goat Trail is undoubtedly the most hiking fun you can have within five miles of the DC line. Hiking along rocky bluffs that drop straight down in the river never fails to amuse me. And then there are the other hikers: several years ago we were standing along the trail watching a deer eating algae out of a narrow marsh nestled between two hills. We were standing still enjoying the sloppy, green algae hanging out the sides of the deer's mouth when a clutch of spandex-clad power-walkers comes yammering their way down the trail. One of the women was heard to say, "The thing I love about my yoga practice is that it helps me to live in the moment and it makes me so self-aware." This, she said, as she spandex-bounced her way right past the beautiful deer—spooking the doe to splash noisily down the marshy draw.

The panorama above was shot hand-held with a digicam. I am still amazed at the kinds of shots you can get with a modest little pocket camera. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and it was cold. Nevertheless, the Billy Goat Trail was still, in places, a traffic jam. Avoid this trail after 10:00 am, year-round.

This final panoramic was taken from Maryland Heights, looking upstream. You can see the C&O canal in the lower right corner and the old Hilltop Hotel on the bluff on the left. The full-sized print is 60" wide and about 15" tall. I can only imagine that this image reads like a map of currents for many paddlers and anglers. On the upper-right side of the river, you can see the islands that are lit-up in the first panoramic in this posting.

I like to stay busy. There is always somewhere to go, something to do, someone to see. I like it that way. When the dark-days of winter come and my work keeps me from the bright skies of adventure, I sit in my studio and review old photos. It is these times that I appreciate the luxury of my past year of adventure. Today I reviewed all my panoramas from 2008. There are too many to post, but I made a collection that should have made the front page of Trailpixie.net. Over the next few days, I will post more than a dozen images that stitched together in time, represent my personal panorama of 2008.

This day had a deep, blue sky, crispness in the air with perfect, puffy, white clouds. We set-out for a short hike that turned into a six mile excursion. We were hungry at the end because we didn't bring any snacks, but the day was glorious and our lungs were filled with the cool winter winds.

This image was made in January at Sugarloaf Mountain near Frederick, Maryland. It may not look much like a panorama, but is comprised of thirteen images taken looking straight towards the sky. The low-angled sunlight of winter made this 360 degree panoramic possible. It was an experiment that went well.

Go skiing or go to the beach? Skiing or the beach? Skiing or the beach? We chose the beach. After a week of debating the probability of good snow conditions versus the probability of finding one of the only Snowy Owls to grace the state of Maryland with its presence, we chose the Snowy Owl at the beach. We were pretty happy about the choice,

We arrived at the Assateague Island National Seashore Ranger Station at about 8:00. Quickly picked-up our Over Sand Vehicle Pass, microwaved some tea, payed the park fees, and quizzed the rangers about the presence of our snowy owl. We were relieved and excited to discover that Little Snowy had been seen on Friday when a naturalist was doing a survey of birds.

The five of us crammed into my little jeep and started down the beach. For about fifteen minutes, every bleached-out piece of driftwood or misplaced garbage bag sent us into conniptions--binoculars hurriedly scanning the horizon. We were desperate not to miss the little critter. It didn't take us too long though. After about 15 minutes driving down the beach, we spotted the little Snowy Owl near Kilometer 22.

We spent about three hours on the cool, windy beach snapping photos of the little Snowy Owl. In each of his perches, the drill was the same. Move forward to a position 50 yards away--well short of what would spook the owl to fly off. Take pictures. Owl yawns--click, click, click, click, click, click.... Owl opens eyes--click, click, click, click, click, click.... Owl preens foot--click, click, click, click, click, click.... Owl poops--click, click, click, click, click, click.... Then we would look at one another shrug our shoulders, lift our tripods and shuffle forward ten steps, like a Marine Corps precision drill-team. We would quickly reset our tripods--hoping that the owl wouldn't do something spectacular like regurgitating a pellet--and then restart the procedure. The little guy flew four or five times. In flight, the owl was quiet like downy snowflakes raining silent death on unsuspecting rodents.

It's a familiar refrain: "Why are we getting up at 4:45 am on a Saturday?" Results should speak for themselves. Conowingo Dam was abuzz with innumerable bald eagles on this cool November morning. Several of the more experienced visitors put the number at over a hundred bald eagles. It boggles my imagination. I recall growing up around the Chesapeake Bay and Potomac River where bald eagles were present but sightings were fairly rare. More recently, if I go out on a paddling excursion, I would be pretty excited to see more than two or three bald eagles. Conowingo Dam in December is unbelievable.

During most of our three-hour visit to the dam, the eagles kept their distance. They would get active about every forty-five minutes when one poor eagle would get a bit peckish and grab an unsuspecting fishy from the water. But then, that poor eagle would get no peace to go and eat its meal. No, no, no! At least three other eagles would chase the hungry one and try to steal its meal. The chase would end when the hungry eagle would drop the fish in the water and none of them would get to eat. I was pretty lucky to catch one of these little in-air altercations.

I was happy for the camaraderie and advice of skilled birder-photographers Martin, Sarah, Eric, and Art as well as many dozens of other birdwatchers. I have never seen so many monoculars, binoculars, and big lenses. Oh the lenses! They were huge! My modest 100-400 was no match for the 600mm lenses and the $X0,000 lenses that seemed to be in abundance. I felt so inadequate.

The sky had turned a dull gray. The afternoon was getting chilly. We completed our Canyon Rim circuit via the road to Olson Tower. Kara found feathery milkweed pods broken open to reveal their delicate, downy seeds. Their simple charm entertained us. We caressed them and then blew them off our hands to be carried by the highland winds. After the grandeur of autumn leaves, we were comforted to find modest, little joys of nature.

I have always struggled to capture the beauty of beaver lodges and dams. Sometimes my efforts didn't meet up with my intentions. Nevertheless, I have kept photographing the work of my kindred spirit, the beaver. While I am a lover of nature, I am also, by nature, a builder, so I have always been amazed by the accomplishments of our little furry friends. They can reshape a landscape, changing a deep mountain stream into a sunny, wide open bog within a few seasons. Standing dead trees, gray with weather, gnawed limbs, squishy ground, narrow canals, all are the direct result of a family of beavers moving in.

At this location, the entire area was so boggy, even during the dry-spell this year, that we couldn't walk without sinking to our knees in muck. But, we could easily walk along the meandering top of the dam. The mud-packed branches made a sturdy bridge out into the middle of the bog where I was able to catch these and other images. The only problem I had was trying to get the tripod setup on the narrow top of the dam. As a matter of fact, on several occasions while I tried to look through the viewfinder of my camera, I almost fell off the dam into the pond--talk about faux pa .

We didn't see the builder during this visit. They tend to avoid public appearances, especially in broad daylight. We will need to return to try to catch the little family at work, as they maintain their homestead in the highlands.

It seems like a tragedy that the colorful gaudiness of autumn is followed by the monotone of winter, but by the time that autumn is gone it seems that the simple beauty of white snow is a relief from sensory overload--a party that has exhausted itself and happy to end.

This golden view is from the Canyon Rim Road between the town of Douglas and Olson Tower. Big Run cascades down the steep hillside until it eventually reaches the Blackwater River below. You can reach the overlook by hiking or driving down Canyon Rim Road (Public Road 18). I wouldn't recommend driving unless you have a truck. There are some fords and big rocks along the road. We reached the spot by hiking the Canyon Rim trail from Olson Tower. When we intersected with Canyon Rim Road, we turned right (south) and hiked five-minutes to the overlook.

On Halloween, Matt and I hiked up Old Rag Mountain. The trail is always lots of fun--climbing, crawling, and shimmying around and over rocks.

The leaves were still mostly green or brown on what was the last warm day of autumn. There were a few yellow trees, but the vistas were still beautiful.

Marc couldn't go, so Matt and I were able to hike much faster without the need to stop every 100 yards to take pictures.

The spiderwebs made me think of Halloween, so I have waited since August to post it. This is a four-image, handheld panoramic that I really wish that I had stopped and made a higher resolution mosaic with the tripod. Sometimes it happens that way. This little scene unfolded to us early in the morning while dew was still heavy on the grasses and spiderwebs. We had departed from Bear Rocks around 7:30 am and headed into the backcountry. At this spot, we were standing on the boardwalk that is only a quarter of a mile from the parking lot. Photographically, the rest of the hike wasn't very impressive. You never know what you are going to find when you head out.

Hoping to capture the glorious light around dusk, we deliberately started late on Saturday to find the golden riches of autumn that are hidden along the Roaring Plains. We hiked out the Roaring Plains Trail equipped with enough photographic gear for a National Geographic expedition. But the photo gear couldn't compete with MaryAnn's Magical Map. With the map and the advice of a mythical-mountain pixie called Chip, we headed out. We were looking for a "water-break, where the trail changed from single track to overgrown rail grade." We hiked past it. After consulting the magical map, we turned around and started exploring every little game trail we could detect. While exploring one false path, I almost stabbed myself in the chest with a pine-tree-pungy stick. Lucky that I was wearing my backpack; its shoulder strap snapped the stick off the tree.

After several false starts and numerous Rhododendron bruises, we stumbled down the trail to find what was obviously a rail grade and a water-break. To call this path a trail would be generous. We meandered around the Rhododendrons, Laurel, and pines in what seemed like a serpents path. One of the nearby "trails" is called "Mountain Laurel Maze." This trail was indeed a maze. The trail was so tight that you were generally unable to see the footpath. Following this trail was like Luke Skywalker putting on his blindfold and using a lightsaber. "Trust in the force" and you will find the trail.

As he was pulling his leg out of an unseen mud puddle, the guy with the bum knee exclaimed "I guess I won't be wearing these pants to work again!" Mrs. Pixie was caught in a melee with a Rhododendron when she yelled "Help, I'm high-centered on a bush!"

But, we found it.

It was 4:00 in the afternoon when we finally found the rocky edge. We made frantic stops along the outcroppings where we snapped photos as fast as possible while trying to soak-in the beauty and grandeur--to capture the fleeting moments. I am not sure whether we were racing to catch the beautiful light that photographers covet or to avoid route-finding through the spruce glades by headlamp. Just as dusk was settling into darkness, we popped out onto the open pipeline. It was just a few minutes after 7:00. The near-full moon lit our way home.

(This entry was backdated to the actual date of the hike.)

We hiked down to the Falls of Seneca Creek. The temperature was cool. The water was flowing. The moss was slick. The Rhododendrons were blooming.

Once we reached the highest falls on Seneca Creek, we turned our attention downstream. The trail is no longer maintained much past the falls, so it is treacherous footing on the moss-covered rocks and steep, rocky hillsides. In fact a short distance below the falls there are remnants of an old bridge that once served the trail. It consists of several three inch diameter logs strapped together and lashed to some dead trees. The bridge runs about twelve feet, and its surface is so moss covered that it is nearly indistinguishable from the fallen trees that surround it. Walking on it looks like good way to break your neck.

With my camera in one hand and my tripod in the other, I climbed over a few cascades and waded my way down the stream for a couple hundred yards and found this little photograph. It is composed of three rows of eleven images. If you haven't already, click on it to see a bigger version. I count myself lucky if I get two or three great images in a year. This image is number three for the year along with Pointy Knob Waterfall, and The Rewards of Sleeping Late..

Thursday we took a little hike-bike trip out onto Roaring Plains and Flatrock Plains. We left the car at around noon and didn't return until about nine in the evening--officially dusk. Throughout the day, the thunder showers were rattling the valleys all around us as we hiked in the open highlands. We got wet on a few occasions, but the sun returned often enough to keep our spirits high. As we biked down the fire road to our car, we were rewarded with the stunning spectacle of the sun shining through foggy trees. Even though we were running out of daylight, I had to stop and catch a few photos of the sublime scene. If you can't get up early enough to catch the early morning light, the evening light certainly does look like a good alternative to me.

Weather on Dolly Sods is nothing, if it isn't fickle. We spent most of Saturday poking around on the sods, trying to avoid the numerous thundering downpours. One minute visibility would be a hundred yards, and the next, the sun would be poking out of the clouds. It made for some interesting photos. This panoramic was taken from the back of my jeep, with the rear door open and me perched with my camera protected from the drenching monsoon that stopped moments before.

Last weekend Martin invited us out to check-in on a family of Barred Owls living in a local park. I hadn't ever seen owls in the 'wilderness' of Northern Virginia, so I was in. We arrived Saturday afternoon around 4:30 and didn't leave until almost 8:00. I got a few nice shots, but nothing compared Martin's photos. While I didn't get the cool closeups like Martin, I focused on what I do best, I took panoramics of owls "in their natural habitat." Two rows of six images compose this image that I printed 20" x 35". The wind was blowing, so there were lots of parallax errors to be worked out, but because the image is so random and complex, it was easy to hide the issues.

On a related note, I think I need a longer lens. I am definitely feeling inadequate when shooting wildlife with Martin.

Wandering was the name of the game last weekend. On our way home from Canaan Valley, we decided to take the scenic route. How many great days start with, "Why don't we take a scenic route?" First we crossed the Oldtown Maryland bridge. Sitting two feet off the water and just barely wide enough for one vehicle, this little wooden bridge is a gem. When we arrived on the Maryland side of the river, we were delightfully amused to find a tollbooth. "Fifty cents please."

After crossing the river, we had a choice, either backtrack to Cumberland and get on Route 68 East towards home, or take the scenic route through Greenridge State Forest. It didn't matter that our only map lacked road names. It didn't matter that we didn't have any sort of GPS. We just figured, head northeast, and we'll be fine. After an hour on the boulder-strewn off road vehicle (ORV) trail that was sized for ATVs and motor bikes, we emerged onto smooth dirt roads, and a beautiful panoramic view of the winding Potomac River. After a quick panoramic photograph stop, we were back on our way. Before leaving the state forest, we had a chance to take pictures in an abandoned nineteenth century cemetery, photograph ourselves posing inside hollow tree, get bitten by the seasons first mosquitoes, spook a couple of horses, and get our jeep good and dirty.

Spring is the time to see the waterfalls of the highlands around Canaan Valley. On Sunday morning, after an evening of steady rain, I grabbed my gear and tiptoed across Red Run with my camera hung on one shoulder and my trusty photo backpack of gear. A short ten minute hike up the Pointy Knob Trail found the creek wet and wonderful--you know, originally that was going to be the state motto before they came up with wild and wonderful, but they changed their mind because they thought the prurient connotations of "wet and wonderful" would turn away tourists. Well this little creek was "Open for Business." ("Open for Business" is the newest motto of West Virginia. Several groups are trying to get it changed back to Wild and Wonderful.)

This shot was taken in four rows of nine images for a total of thirty-nine images. The resulting image is 143 megapixels. What you are seeing here is a crop of that image. As I write this, it is printing 24" x 48". This image is huge. If you didn't already, click on the image above to see one that is a bit larger. In the fully printed version, you can see each tiny follicle of green moss on the rocks.

I don't generally talk about photographic equipment here, but this was shot with my new favorite lens. I have been carrying my Canon EF 24-70 f/2.8 L for about three months. This lens is a tank. It weighs almost two pounds. I have never seen a lens so sharp and colorful. I loathe to remove this lens from my camera

I shot the image with a polarizer to reduce glare off the Rhododendron leaves. I have concluded that using a polarizer with the shiny leaves of Rhododendron and Mountain Laurel is essential to preserving the deep green colors of the image. As a result, I generally need to use a tripod because of the loss of light. That's okay, because when I shoot panoramics, I generally use a spherical ballhead mounted on a tripod anyway.

Whew! I photo-geeked-out there pretty good. Sorry for the diatribe. While the sun never showed itself on Sunday, the photos that resulted from an overcast day were excellent. This time of year is better than you might think for photography in the highlands. Although most trees are still bare, with only the smallest buds showing, the evergreen Rhododendrons are deep green and lush. So this time of year shows them off to their fullest without having to compete. On Sunday, everything was damp and saturated with color. The even lighting made textures leap out at you.

The flowers were out in full force along the C&O Canal towpath between White's Ferry and Brunswick. Along some stretches, it is no exaggeration to say that the ground was carpeted with flowers. The ground-cover was lush and green, but most of the trees didn't have too many leaves yet. This combination made for some beautiful views through the woods. The brown tree trunks contrasted sharply with the lush green leaves of the ground-cover.

The Virginia Bluebells were mixed in with a white, six-leaved flower that I couldn't identify. Nevertheless, the scenery was stunning. As an extra bonus, I also have to say, this stretch of the towpath was in excellent condition. For our first outing of the season, our posteriors were appreciative.

I have been traveling to Dallas for seven years. Over that time, I have learned some lessons about Texans. I remember asking my local coworkers, "Is there anywhere I can go for a hike or walk....you know a quick after-work jaunt?" My question was always met with blank stares. And then, here is the kicker.

"I suppose you could go to the mall and walk around there." Then they turned and walked away like I was a leper. That is Dallas in a nutshell. Mall-walking is considered getting out for some exercise.

So after spending so many years of evenings in Dallas at the mall, or the office, I finally decided to find some nature...in Dallas!

I found White Rock Lake near downtown Dallas. I got some suspicious looks from the inhabitants. Some might even say they looked incredulous at me walking around the lake.

With few exceptions, it was hard to capture an image without concrete of some sort in the image. I guess I shouldn't expect too much. This was, after all, the city of Dallas, at least the spandex-clad cyclists didn't run me over.

I promise, my next entry will have some truly wild places. No more cities, for now.

We spent a few days in New York City. Just below Wall Street, I stumbled into the Waterfront area. I liked the worn signs on the side of these buildings. Someday I will need to write about how I got the panoramic projection to not suck, but I kind of like the shot. Keeping lines straight and appropriately parallel in a panoramic can be difficult, especially when the shot was taken handheld like this one was.

Now this shot breaks all the rules of panoramic photography, but I still think it is cool. I was walking through the East Village just snapping a shot every ten steps or so. Then I put together the results. There are all sorts of little misalignments and errors in the panoramic, but in the East Village, I don't think anyone would notice. I also uploaded a bigger version if you are interested.

Kara pointed out this little doorway as we were walking around West Village. There isn't much to say about this one except "cool!" I really like the low-key composition. Part of me wishes I had taken that darn business card off the intercom, but hey, you can't get everything.

This little panoramic was taken in the Trinity Church cemetery at the intersection of Wall Street and Broadway. There were a number of really cool headstones dating back to the late 18th century and the Revolutionary War period. It seems that the cemetery never sees much light in the shadow of all the financial district's skyscrapers. I could make a cynical comment about the irony of a church in the business district, but I won't. It was a really cool church and cemetery--for a guy who doesn't go to church.

Has autumn sprung on Dolly Sods? Well as of Saturday past, I would say yes. October 6th saw some pretty peak lookin' leaves to me. In one day of hiking around in the north end of Dolly Sods, we must have chatted with 25 people, many of them backpackers. I think everyone was pretty shocked by the high temperatures. It was about 80 degrees fahrenhiet. We started our excursion around noon and hiked until just after sunset. The afternoon light was doing a wonderful job of illuminating the leaves. There were large puffy clouds that occasionally provided some diffused shady light, but otherwise an ideal day.



We made a big loop with the Raven Ridge trail, Beaver View trail, and Dobbin Grade trail. Getting back to the parking lot at the top of FR80 took us almost ten miles. The first pano (above) was taken along the Rocy Ridge trail. Second one (below) was taken overlooking a meadow near the Beaver View trail. This shot is one of those that I really didn't think would work. Everything I have ever learned says, avoid haze and don't shoot directly into the sun. Well this shot was taken directly into the sun and through an afternoon haze. I like the way the dark Red Spruce trees are fringed with light green with scattterred yellows and reds mixed throughout.

This weekend we hiked the High Falls trail in the Shavers Fork area. It was a more strenuos trail than I expected. It was all either steep up or steep down. At the top of the ridge, there was a primeval area of hemlock, ferns and mosses.

When we arrived at the High Falls, we realized that there was a scenic railroad that stopped at the falls. So as we made our way down to the falls to eat lunch, we were accompanied by forty-some-odd passengers from the train. That was when I fell (see "A Beautiful Place to Break a Camera" below). We sat on the rocks and watched people rapidly descend on the location like they were paratroopers at the beaches of Normandy. I think I took a picture for a man and woman who were probably dating or something. THEN, as quickly as they arrived, everyone was gone. It was peaceful. I made some pictures. We ate lunch. Some hikers came through and took a swim.

So I am standing at the top of the High Falls of the Cheat in Shavers Fork area of the Mon Forest. I turn to walk away from the edge and lose my footing on some mossy, wet rock. As I am falling on top of my Canon 30D, the following thoughts flash through my head...

My 17-40 L lens doesn't have a UV filter to protect it from this fall. I don't really have any time to protect the camera with my hands, arms or face, so I guess this lens is toast. I have always been in the camp of people that figures if you spend money to get a good lens, you shouldn't put a cheap piece of glass in front of it just in the name of protection. I always say that if you don't take your camera into risky places, then you will never get a great shot. It is only a matter of time before any piece of well loved camera equipment gets damaged or broken.....OUCH...skin on my elbow is scrapping off....OUCH, the lens is shattered. I guess I am gonna have to get that 24-105 that I have been considering. Let's have a look...Damn!!

The lens wasn't shattered, even though I came down hard on the bottom of the lens. It still seems to take sharp photos. No damage was done to the best of my knowledge.

...and to add insult to injury, I fell directly in front of an observation deck with a bunch of horrified people looking on. One man offered me a paper towl he was carrying. I used it to dry off the camera. I think he meant it for my bleeding elbow.

I was going back over pictures I have shot over the last few years. It never ceases to amaze me how much my perception of an image can dramatically change over the course of a few years. Today I am going back into the Trailpixie archives to drag out two images from last summer.

The first image is taken along the C&O Canal, about a mile southeast of Great Falls. The day was hazy and humid. I recall feeling disappointed about my pictures from the day. I came home and didn't even look at them for a week or two. When I did, I found this panoramic of a little island with a cedar tree on it. I thought it was okay. Now I look at it and think it is a wonderful little vignette from nature. What do you think?

This second picture was taken on an outing to the Eastern Shore of Maryland. We had planned to go kayaking at Eastern Neck Wildlife Refuge, but there were a bunch of storms kicking around. So, we just knocked around Chestertown, Rock Hall and the refuge for most of the day. We had a really good time, but again, the weather wasn't cooperating for picture makin'. I did manage to snap a few panoramics of wildflowers. At the time, I was totally obsessed with catching the dozens of butterflies that were in the image, but those little buggers just wouldn't sit still. So, when I came home, I wasnt't too enthusiastic about the images I shot. A year later, I think I was being a bit self-indulgent and crabby. This image is pretty nice. I hope you like it.

Adam, who lives in the shadow of Dolly Sods, wrote me a nice email last week that I thought I would share. He also sets me straight on a the names of a few places. I will need to update some pages here at Trailpixie.net to get the corrections straight. Here, you can read his email yourself...pretty interesing.

May 29, 2007
Hi, My name is Adam and I live under Dolly Sods.. My Family is the reason there is a road from the Maysville side to the top of Dolly Sods because of a handshake deal way before my time between the Gov and my Great Grandad... I am an active Bear Hunter and Hiker of Dolly Sods and Dolly Sods has been a Fascination Obsession and its true beauty has captured my attention since I was a small child. I'm always looking on the net for pics and taking my own and I love the place and I'll probably get married there and live here the rest of my life unless priorites carry me elsewhere. The purpose of my email was in regards to your "Unnamed View." This place is called Phares or pronounced by local hunters "Fares" Hollow Rocks. and the Hollow below it is Phares Hollow its a split hollow....the hollow next to it the even rougher one is called Greenbriar.

One thing that i think hikers and hunters alike should push for is more opening of trails and the old railroad grades from the historical past of Dolly Sods... A few trials are wonderful hikes and Beautiful Scenery as always.. But a lot of trails are growing over and some of the old railroad grades are becoming non existent... exspecially the ones that link bbknob and fisherspring knob and the ones in Red Creek. One thing I've never understood is, that on any map ive ever saw or any pics I've ever scene, Fisher Spring Knob is not on there. Its the knob beside the trail and has the old grade running around it. Its def. unmarked on maps but fully visable. Keep up the Good Work! Your pics are the best I've found so far of the inside of the sods. and their clearly marked on location which is really good.

Thanks for the nice comments Adam. So it's Phare's Hollow Rocks. That sounds pretty cool. I'll update the page soon. Thanks for the note.

Brother Dave wants to click on the image and see a big version. Click on this...

Well, here is another pano. This one was shot from the top of Angel's Landing. The hike is a dandy little jaunt up over 1200 feet above the valley floor. the last 500 feet of vertical is done across a narrow rock outcropping with chains along the way to prevent you from plunging to your death. This stitched panoramic photo is made up of six images looking south towards the Zion Lodge.

Shot over 1000 images. I got source material for dozens of big panos too. Here is a quickie that I threw together this evening. (It looks better when viewed bigger or even biggest.) This image is made with 1x3 shots. I will be working on some that were as large as 3x13 shots. We'll see if any come out.

As the last days of winter pass by, I thought I would go back through my library and highlight some more images that I made this year. This shot was made on a windy day at Bald Knob above White Grass and Canaan Valley. It is a very similar angle to an image I made two years ago in the first days of winter as the snows just started to settle over the highlands.

We also finally got a chance to make the acquantaince of Jonathan Jessup during a short photo seminar he was holding. During that time we snowshoed along the edge of the woods at White Grass and took photos as the weather changed from sunny overcast to fast blowing snow. I managed to make this photo while hiking with a dozen or more other photo enthusiasts.

One other note, trailpixie.net has finally gotten the comments function working again. Hopefully with the upgraded software, I will be able to control the spamming that had gotten out of control. Please leave your responses by clicking the "Add Your Comments" link below.

The latest goin's on here in the land of Trailpixies has been backcountry skiing. We have spent the best part of the last month of weekends in the Canaan Valley area skiing at White Grass, the refuge, and Canaan Mountain. Of course I took pictures. So, I'll get right to telling stories with pictures.

Over President's Day weekend we spent all three days exploring the winter wilderness. On Saturday mid morning we started out on some rather icy trails. We were pretty wrung out from the week, so we began with rather modest expectations for a gentle tour. By noon, it was starting to snow, and our energy level was rising as we began to penetrate the deep winter woods above White Grass. We decided to head out the Cabin Mountain Trail to see exactly where it came back into the trail system. The photo above was taken about half-way around the Cabin Mountain Trail. It was pretty cold and snowy by this point. Four hours after starting our tour, we were elated to come back out just below Bald Knob. The snow was accumulating on our hats and backs, so we decided to head for the lodge. After an exhausing tour, we were happy to kick back and relax by the fire for the evening.

On Sunday we decided to really take that gentle tour, so we headed up to Canaan Mountain for an out-and-back on Canaan Loop Road. The snow was still falling pretty hard. I guess around 6-8 inches had fallen since Saturday noon. Canaan Loop Road was peaceful and quiet as the snow was swirling like a banshee. Occasionally, the snow clouds would part for a moment and some sun would reveal itself. In this picture, Kara was skiing out ahead while the snow was swirling and the sun was shining. I am not sure a more magical combination could be made.

Of course I had to stop and take a panoramic image. That involves setting up a tripod, attaching the tripod head, tamping down a spot in the snow so I can get on my knees in front of the tripod. Then, I have to make some calculations with some charts I carry in my gear. Finally, I have to shoot 10 or 20 images in quick repetition. Since it taks so long to setup the whole thing--about 5 minutes--I generally take at least two or three panoramic images. So, after 15 minutes standing in 15 degree fahrenheit temperatures with snow swirling around (remember that banshee I was talking about), Kara convinced me to pack up and get moving again. I was pretty happy about the image that resulted.

To round-out the long weekend, I got up at 6:00 on Monday morning to take a pre-dawn photographic trek into the refuge. The photos were pretty pedestrian untill I stumbled into a copse of trees that were dripping with warm glowing light. I fell to my knees--which is pretty difficult when you are wearing snowshoes in two feet of snow-- and immediately setup my panoramic equipment. It was about 8 degrees fahrenheit, so when I put on my thinner gloves for using my camera, my fingers were immediately numb. My fingers clumsily stumbled through three versions of the same image--two rows of 15 shots. I was practically shivering, so I packed up my gear and headed back to the cabin.

I think the image was worth it. I printed a 13x40 inch print when I got home and it warms my heart to look at it. During my trek back to the cabin I didn't know if any of my shots came out well, but I did have a wonderful feeling of warmth and satisfaction. As I crested one of the hills, I turned back and saw my meandering path arch across the hillside. I was cold, but I was rejuvenated by the beauty of the wilderness refuge. I recall thinking that it would be fun to throw myself down on the powdery snow and and wriggle around on my back like a dog does in the soft green grass of spring.

Hi folks, you may be seeing some erratic behavior with Trailpixie.net this week. I am in the process of moving my webhosting service. As you can imagine, that can cause all kinds of issues. Hopefully everything will be worked out in the next few days so that I can move on with some upgrades on the site.

This weekend we took a nice little excursion around Dolly Sods. We hit most of the highlights of the Southern portion of the area. One of my goals was to reshoot an image I took three years ago along Big Stonecoal Trail. I had taken a decent little handheld panoramic with my old A70 digicam. I really liked the composition of the shot, but the image wasn't suitable for printing due to its low resolution. For three years, I have wanted to remake that waterfall image. I think the new image is an improvement over the old one. I wonder if there are any other images I should try to remake.

I was going back through my old photos and found the 6 images that comprise this panoramic. I kind of liked the dark boulders on the beach with the bright sky background. When I stitched the images together I liked it even more. Sometimes I to go back through my old shots and think, "why didn't I do anything with that shot?" This photo was started last summer in Acadia. The print was just made last night. That is a long exposure.

I have been waiting to get this image up on the site. This one winter shot saved my photography season. I got up at the crack of dawn after we got about twelve inches of snow. I hopped in the Jeep and headed the mile and a half down to the Middle Patuxent River where it runs past the town of Savage. After a short hike down the snowy trail, I decided to descend the steep bank of the river and crawl out on a rock to take a couple of panoramas. I know I wasn't solo free climbing El Capitan, but I was crawling out on a deep snow covered rock perched 10 feet over a cold, rocky river that was flowing swiftly that morning — all with my camera mounted on the tripod. I must confess to using the tripod and camera as a walking stick a few times as I gently scooched my way out on to the rock. So I set up the tripod and shot for a half hour or so. The color of the water is exactly as it looks in the picture. The snow had fallen so thickly that a slushy slurpee of green water was flowing down stream. This panoramic shot was taken with 2 rows of 10 images. I think I figured out that it was about an 80 megapixel (15,700 x 5100 pixels)image when all is said and done. I had a good time that morning. The snow had half melted by noon and was almost completely gone two days later.

This has been a hectic winter at the Trailpixie homestead, but we did manage to get out for some pics of the cherry blossom trees one morning before work. We arrived around 5:45 am. There were already dozens of people, mostly pathological photographers like me and my friends. The sun rose around 6:00 am. Good light hit around 6:20-6:30 am. I shot a bunch of nice cherry blossom pictures. It is kind of hard not to take some decent photos with such a great subject matter at hand. I did manage to get one nice little panoramic that was unusual. I shot this with a bright sunny background which should have silhouetted the blossoms, but I also used fill flash, so the image turned out pretty neat. Usually I don't like flash on natural subjects, but this seems to be an exception. I was pretty pleased with this little shot. I hope you are too.

This is your last chance to provide input to the Monongahela Forest Plan. The next time the Federal government will revist this plan will be in 20 Years. Terence Major sent me this information about the public comment period for the Monangahela's 20 year plan. Please provide your input so that we can continue to enjoy mountain adventures winthin the natural splendor of the Mon.

After public comment and based on forest service recommendation only Congress can add land to the National Wilderness Preservation System. Wilderness designation protects an area from logging, mining, building of roads or other permanent structures and motorized use in perpetuity. Examples of Wilderness areas in West Virginia include Dolly Sods and Otter Creek.

Only 9% of the Monongahela National Forest is permanently protected as wilderness. The new forest plan calls for extensive road building, logging and development. Your letters can help prevent this.

Today the big areas are roaded, and our opportunity has been considerably diminished. We have seen an enormous amount of road building and forest fragmentation in the last 20 years. Imagine what will be left twenty years from now if we do not protect the remaining areas.

The 1964 Wilderness Act states that wilderness, "�in contrast with those areas where man and his own works dominate the landscape, is hereby recognized as an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain." The act went on to require that a wilderness retain "its primeval character and influence" and that it be protected and managed in such a way that it "appears to have been affected primarily by the force of nature."

The Forest Service released its �Draft Management Plan� for the Monongahela National Forest in August. The Forest Service�s Preferred Alternative (#2) threatens the future of the Mon�s wild lands by rolling back protections for roadless areas and failing to recommend an adequate number of new wilderness areas. Only Alternative 3, with changes, goes the furthest in recommending new wilderness areas and protecting the Mon�s remaining special wild places. Please take a moment to write a letter to the Forest Service and tell them you want them to keep the Mon wild. The public only has 90 days to submit comments to the Forest Service (Deadline: November 14, 2005).

Write to:
Monongahela National Forest
Attn: Forest Plan Revision
200 Sycamore Street
Elkins, WV 26241

Or email your comments to: comments-eastern-monongahela@fs.fed.us

for more information:
West Virginia Wilderness Coalition
Monongahela National Forest Web Site
West Virginia Highlands Conservancy

The Labor Day weekend was spent trolling around for photographs and scenic spots. We were lucky on both accounts. The most fruitful (no pun intended) photographs came of the cranberries and pitcher plants we fond along the Canyon Rim Road. I have found cranberry bogs elsewhere in the highlands region, but I am amazed each time I traipse down into a bog and find little berries growing down in the muck. This time they were interspersed with pitcher plants--West Virginia's carnivorous orchid.

We also slogged through a marsh in the Canaan Mountain area where there were plenty of cranberries to be found. The Labor Day weekend was punctuated by a hapenstance sighting of a young bear galloping across Canaan Loop Road only a few hundred feet in front of the car.

This summer we managed to sneak away to Acadia National Park for a long weekend where we shot some cool pics. Thunder Hole is a narrow little channel that runs in from the coastline about 50 yards. At the top of the channel, there are cavities in the rock, that, when the conditions are correct, make thunderous sounds as the waves crash into them.

Jordan Pond is another pretty spot in Acadia National Park. The thing that was most stunning to me about the mountians of Acadia was their shape. they were very steep and rounded-off on the edge. In this panoramic image of Jordan Pond, I am not sure anyone can look at the twin mountain peaks and not think of breasts. They seem to defy the gravity that has worn down the Appalachian mountains. The steep rounded mountains of Acadia present a fluid and almost organic shape that is very un-rock-like.

Well, as usual, I have been shooting lots-o-panos. The first one shown here was taken along Canaan Loop Road in the Canaan Mountain area. This shot is comprised of one row of 4 images stitched together. The printed the image is 12.5" tall by 32" wide.

Initially, I wasn't too big a fan of this vertical shot, but it's been growing on me. this image is comprised of 1 column with 5 rows of images stitched together vertically and its printed size is 12.5" by 27.5". This shot was also found near Canaan Loop Road. I took the shot in the morning when there was still some light coming in from the side. The morning was starting to give way to the haze that prevails in our humid summers which gives the image that slightly phosphorescent background.

I would like to have taken this image as two or more columns of images, but my equipment doesn't make that easy to do. Precision panorama photography is rather equipment intensive. To get the images to line up precisely enough for printing and subsequent close examination, you need to use a tripood with a special panoramic tripod head. In order to do single columns or rows of images, you need what is called a cylindrical head (as if you are taking a picture from inside of a cylinder), but to make multi-row/column, "mosaic" panoramas, you need a spherical head (as if you taking pictures from the inside a sphere). I have been using a cylindrical head. I will need to post a picture of me messing with the contraption. This equipment is pretty cool and makes the process of stitching on a computer much easier.

Panoramania has definitely set in for me. I find myself consumed by the idea of being able to print these images of scenery and wildlife in very large formats. You might remember some of the old wallpaper that people put up in the 70's and 80's that were a wooded scene put together with columns of wallpaper. Digital panoramic photography can provide the same sort of size, but with far higher resolution allowing the viewer to resolve details that could only normally be seen in real life. For example, in this 1x3 panoramic image of a tide pool in Acadia National Park in Maine, you can pick out lots of cute little aquatic critters. Since it is difficult to see the details on a computer monitor, I have enlarged the image to show the detail. In the image on the left, you can see the valves in the mussels. The image on the right shows a periwinkle hanging out on a mussel.

Some thoughts on perspectives

This weeken