When you get up in the morning in the highlands, the questions isn't "am I going out today?" It is, "Where are we going out today?" It was the first Saturday in December (technically autumn, I guess). The snow was falling steadily. We chose a tributary to Red Run along the Pointy Knob trail. We rock-hopped across the rushing creek and slipped our way up the snowy trail. More than once I snagged overhanging branches and found snow sliding down the back of my neck. I fell into a slippery slope burying my camera in the snow. Photo work was awkward in the steady snow. Lenses kept getting wet. We debated the weather sealing of our cameras (mine isn't). We got a bit wet, but we had a good time, and no serious damage was done to persons or gear.

Out of the excursion, I got two particular photographs that I like. This first one (above) feels frenetic and captures the movement of the water. In this shot, I feel like perhaps I am a bird flying down the creek. Admittedly, this shot doesn't capture the reality of the moment.

The second shot (below) captures the quiet peacefulness that characterized the morning we spent on the creek. White snow clung to every surface. The only contrast in the scene was the ubiquitous brown waters of the highlands with the occasional tree-trunk, boulder or log peeking out from behind the sticky white snow. The simple duotone of winter can be such a relief after the garishness of summer and fall.

The desert southwest is problematic for a woodland photographer from the east. Making photos in the east involves shooting close to your fingertips—the subject is perhaps a few dozen feet away. In these photos from Tucson, the image starts a few feet away and travels for miles into the sunset. The clean desert air lacks the haze of the east. The foreground has exotic and beautiful cactuses—silhouetted in the foreground to add mystery. An unusual cloudy sunset with multiple layered mountain ranges draws the viewer to the horizon. Sunset photos always risk being cliche, but in Tucson, I challenge you to NOT photograph a great sunset.

On a chilly Saturday morning, I headed out at dawn to hike in a local park. I saw a rabbit, a few runners, some cactus wrens, and beautiful scenery. The Saguaro cactus dominated the open landscape. Birds were nesting and perching on them. The sun lit the saguaro from the side, making their spines glow a bright orange or red. The scrubby, convoluted Teddy-Bear cactus peppered the space between the saguaro.

Natural cactus of the desert southwest silhouetted against the evening sky.

Unatural cactus of the desert southwest silhouetted against the evening sky.

Perhaps we will make a tradition of skulking around cemeteries on Halloween. Yesterday we defied the weather reports and poked around Middletown, and Antietam. This panoramic looks out over the Antietam Cemetery—you can just barely see the flag perching out above the trees.

The dark clouds followed us much of the afternoon, but they made for a pleasantly-foreboding background. To reinforce the final days of the autumn color, I selectively desaturated the yellow and green colors, leaving the reds and blues to give the image a tonality appropriate to the season.

The other unusual photographic technique I used was to spot flash when making panoramics. It's a subtle effect, but it tends to allow the foreground to remain visible while allowing the background, particularly the sky, to be darker. I like the net effect. What do you think?

On our evening excursion to Bald Knob last weekend, in addition to photographing the Singing Moon rise in the east, we were able to watch a pretty fantastic sunset. As a matter of fact, the sun set about 10 minutes before the moon rose. Nature isn't usually that rapid fire when it comes to celestial bodies. This panorama looks out to the west towards Back Hollow Road. The dark hill on the right is Canaan Mountain, while the hill in the distance is Shavers Mountain near Otter Creek. From high points like Bald Knob, the world becomes a bit smaller and you can start pointing out all the places you have hiked or biked over the years.

Singing Moon, Nut Moon, Harvest Moon, Barley Moon, Moon When The Calves Grow Hair, Mulberry Moon, Chrysanthemum Moon, or just plain September Moon. Whatever your culture calls the full moon in September, here it is with a little bit of Venus thrown in for good measure.

We planned to see the moon from Bald Knob, and we did. But the photos on the knob weren't the greatest ones. I knew it at the time. This shot from the the road in Canaan Valley State Park turned out to be the keeper of the day.

We started out late because we intended to stay out for the moonrise. First we dropped by the Ski Resort where the most direct trailhead is. Unfortunately a sign notified us that they close the gate to the ski resort at dusk. We intended to be out much past dusk. So, we came up with an alternate and decided to head up behind White Grass on Forest Road 80 and then hike across Blackbird's Wing Trail to the knob. No luck there either. Apparently that trail area is under restoration. So we ended-up parking at the nature center at the State Park, adding a half mile of road walking to our after dark hike. We groused about the annoying parking arrangement, but as it turned out, we never would have seen this foggy scene with the stars and moon lighting the blue sky. Sometimes things happen for a reason.

Do you want to get that small and inconsequential feeling? Do you want to bask in your infinitesimally frail existence? This photographer is a panoramic genius.

Zoomify Panoramic of the Earth Sky

As a person who has straddled the media transition from black and white to color, I can attest that history happened in black and white. History is distant and cold. History doesn't smile. It is grainy. At least that's how it feels sometimes. These photos are warm and accessible.

One-hundred Year-old Color Photographs from Russia

Finally, Outside Online has a photo gallery of professional adventure photographers discussing how they got their best shots. Nicky Bonne's photo story seems to be most similar to my experiences.

Outside Online, My Toughest Shot

Photographers talk about making a photo that "tells a story." If your photo succeeds in telling a story, you have won-over your viewer. Sometimes the story can be simple, like a storm on the horizon or a deer walking in the woods. In both of these panoramic photos, there is one deer composited together across the multiple images that comprise the panoramic. Some people scoff at such digital trickery. I think it is fun. It's a bit like watching a movie all superimposed over one frame.

This first panoramic was taken along Canaan Loop Road. I had gotten up early on a cloudy and rainy day in May. I spent an hour photographing this boggy area, when our little deer timidly meandered through my viewfinder. When the deer finally spotted me, it was off like lightning. How often has that serene little story been reenacted.

This second composite panoramic was made during our snow-less March this year. I was traipsing around the A-Frame Road area of the Canaan Valley National Wildlife refuge looking for raptors. After very little luck, I settled down into a comfortable depression in the ground, with my tripod and camera mounted pointing across the meadow. A couple deer meandered through from the right to the left. I took some photos. Then one deer decided to meander back to the right. That was when the inspiration struck me to get the deer in multiple panoramic frames and stitch them together.

On Saturday evening, the remnants of Hurricane Bill were sending waves of mixed cloud-cover that created some really nice lighting.  One minute it would be overcast, the next it was sunny.  If you were quick, you could catch the shadows on the mountainside with direct light on the foreground.  It made for some really pretty vistas across the north end of Canaan Valley.  From this spot, we spied a Kestrel and a Harrier.  Unfortunately they were too far away for nice photos.  

Sunset was approaching, and we got hungry.  We started our two-mile walk back to the car.  After the sun had finally ducked behind the hillside, we stopped at this little pond along the trail.  The bright light had gone, but the muted colors of dusk were ideal, and the reflections of the clouds in the water made our time there serene.  

This Bog has been one of our favorite places for many years. There is no end of botanical wonders to be found here. Cranberries, Pitcher Plants, and Sundews mix with the mundane ferns, and spongy mosses. We have asked several local naturalists about this amazing Pitcher Plant bog, and they are all stumped. Among the scientists, they generally believe that someone planted these in this spot and they have flourished. This is supported by the fact that Pitcher Plants don't thrive in any other similar bogs in the Highland areas around Canaan. One story we heard was that they were growing in a bog where the present-day Deep Creek Lake currently sits. Apparently someone was alleged to have rescued the Pitcher Plants and move them south 30 miles.

However the Pitcher Plants may have come to this spot, the Sundews certainly are indigenous. If you walk casually around the bog, you will miss these little critters. You need to practically crawl around in the spongy muck to see them. We found them pretty consistently on the slightly higher mossy mounds where they are less likely to be submerged.

The broad vista of the Pitcher Plant bog is much like any other you will see in the highland area. The Pitcher Plants are generally localized on the remote end of the bog where travel is protected by a spongy, wet bog on one side, impenetrable Rhododendrons, and a beaver pond. Hopefully all those defenses will protect our magical hideaway.

Lots of people on the web tell you how to shoot the great photos.  I don't want to do that.  What I have done is to start explaining my photographic ideas and techniques.

Comparing Focal Lengths and Panoramic Stitching
The most common question I get is why I shoot everything in a panoramic format.  This short discussion explains the technical reasons and provides a good graphic illustration of the benefits and limitations of panoramic photography.

Panoramic Equipment
I have gotten some weird looks at my convoluted-looking tripod head. 

The Landscape Photographer's Habits of Mind
When people are getting started with photography, they take it too seriously.  Good photos come from a playful and curious photographer.   

Top Ten Trailpixie Rules of Post Processing and Printing
Less is more. Follow the rules.  Break the rules.  More is more.

Camp 70 Road is a rugged little jeep trail that almost any car--driven gently--can navigate. We got down to the Swinging Bridge and took this first shot sitting in the middle of the rickety old footbridge.  The panoramic was taken at around 8:00 pm, as the sun was setting behind us.  It was bracketed with three exposures across two rows of five images for a total of 33 images (yes I know the math is wrong, deal with it).  

This second shot is a view out into the wetlands surrounding the Blackwater River.  Most of the area is pretty inhospitable to hiking, particularly when it has been as wet as this summer.  

And if you were wondering, I just figured that pictures of a place called Camp 70 really needed to be displayed in sepia-toned black and white.  I thought the duotone effect heightened the drama of the sky while making the place seem not only a remote place, but also, a remote time.  Walk down Camp 70 Road near sunset, and I bet you will get the same feeling.

Everyone talks about "hiking" Mount Mansfield, but really, when you take the Hell Brook Route to the top, it is more of an extended scramble. By the time we reached the first ridge below the Adams Apple, my GPS said we had covered three tenths of a mile and gained over 2,000 feet of elevation. As the images below testify, this trail really shouldn't be called a trail.

There are several ways to get to the top of Mt Mansfield without even scrambling up the Hell Brook route. You can ride the Stowe Ski Resort Gondola; you can drive up the Stowe Scenic drive, or you can hike on a variety of other trails, Vermont's Long Trail is one of them. You may be able to drive to that location on the map, but there are no shortcuts to that place in your mind.

The white blazed image below is a three-frame panoramic that looks down from below the Chin of Mt. Mansfield towards the rocky bald that folks call the Adam's Apple. In these sections of the trail, it is easy to get a bit 'wigged-out' by the steep exposed trail, but there really weren't too many challenging spots.

Many thanks go out to Alpen Tussi and Skeecher for directing us to the best spots and for fueling us up with wholesome food during our first real visit to Vermont. We'll be back.

For months, I've been meaning to post these wonderful cactus shots from Gate Pass, west of Tucson AZ. Life conspired against me and here we are three months later going through my photo processing backlog.

This first shot was a serendipitous fluke (is that redundant). I had finished taking my photos from a perch high-up on the hillside. I had worked my way back down the rocky incline thinking that I had captured my best shots of the day. As I approached the parking lot, I saw a dozen photographers of all skills, shapes, ages, and sizes. I scoffed at their parking-lot-served photography. "Use your feet to get the best view from up above..." I thought to myself. "Lemmings." But as I sauntered past the overlook shelter I took a casual glance over my shoulder. The sun was setting directly between the two hills, perfectly silhouetting the Saguaro cacti. "Oh Snap!!" I thought--really that is what I thought. So I joined the paparazzi and shot another 150 images to make dozens of panoramic images with the sun inching down the horizon. Clicking away, I was getting really strange looks from all others who were content to shoot single-frame images. Lemmings! They should shoot panoramic.

This second shot is from the hillside above. It is composed of three rows of fifteen images. It prints 32"x80" at 300 DPI. I hesitate to even show it online because its virtue lies in the fine details. In print, the viewer can count each and every little cactus and rock. One person suggested that I send it away to have a huge puzzle made--a puzzle for masochists maybe.

Everyone's seen Bear Rocks (if you haven't, go, right now.), but when you get a beautiful morning with blue sky and streaky clouds and you are at Bear rocks, you feel lucky. Sunday morning. Achy legs. How about a ride. Bear Rocks is a guilty pleasure because you can drive all the way up to it. I took my mother there. I imagine lots of people have taken their mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers, anyone up there. Do it again--they repaired the road and it is a like a highway up there. You don't need to be a backcountry hiker to get there, and you don't need to be a super-naturalist to appreciate the simple beauty of the great, wide vista of the West Virginia Highlands.

Much of the lower half of the Flatrock Run trail follows a beautiful little creek that babbles and cascades down the steep and very dark mountainside. On this day, the creek roared down the north face of the mountainside. The recent rains were swelling the streams and shading the woodland mountainside with a dense green canopy. Our Saturday hike was dark and damp with an abundance of Woodland Nettles whose mildly annoying sting even pierced the legs of our pants. Do not hike this trail in shorts.

I fear that I may be making this trail sound foreboding and inhospitable. It is, so stay away! The trio of foxes we caught fighting over a meal will be happy if you don't hike here. This trail is noisy because of that roaring creek I mentioned. The Stinging Woodland Nettles will make your legs swell-up like balloons. The rocks are dangerous and slippery. You could break a leg. Stay away. You have been warned.

On this day, we didn't go all the way to the top, but we were content to spend over an hour clambering over rocks making photographs of Flatrock Run. The mosaic above is composed of two rows of seven images, shot on a specialized tripod, each of them was a 13 second exposure at f/8. Of course, the ten-stop ND filter I was using extended the exposure to get blurred patterns in the water. This mosaic was my first attempt to use my new filter-gadget. All my subsequent attempts failed. I don't know what this says about spontaneity and woodland photography, but I was content to get more than one gratifying shot from my day, so I won't complain.

When people ask me what sort of photographer I am, I generally tell them I am a landscape photographer or nature photographer. Occasionally I tell people that I am hiker photographer, but on this day, I decided that I am a woodland photographer. Photography in the deep woodland mountains of West Virginia takes a different approach. There aren't many wide vistas to be had. In the deep woodlands, the landscape starts at the tips of your toes and extends dozens of feet in front of you. This second panoramic of Flatrock Run was composed of five images creating a vista that easily exceeds four feet across. Can I really call that a panoramic? Meh...

The highlands are green. In the wooded wilderness, the blue-greens haven't yet overwhelmed the yellow-green underbrush. The sun still penetrates deeply to the bright, carpeted forest floor.

Very, very green!! When is Saint Patrick's Day? The farms are preparing to plant vegetables, and the pastures are...really...really...green.

By midsummer, the greens will be bluer, or maybe grayer. Right now, the green is very, very yellow. The diffused overcast light from last weekend further reinforced the yellowish green of the verdant pastureland. Interestingly, when you to use Photoshop to make your greens look...well...greener, don't touch the green sliders, touch the yellow sliders. In these shots, nature had already turned yellow up to eleven. I had to use Photoshop to tone-down the yellows because no one would believe that the green was so yellow, and well...just, very, very green.

If you looked at the tourism literature or the websites about the Sedona area, you would think that all the beauty is tied up in vistas out on the horizon. In these images, the foreground presented unusual beauty and a contrast to the distant mesas and mountaintops. Adding drama to the images were the burned, black trees. One hiker we chatted with near the picture below thought he recalled the fires swept through in 2006. That made sense. The forests didn't smell like a barbecue, but in places they looked like one. While many trees were destroyed, it was amazing how many trees survived without a sign or with merely singed bark.

This image was taken near the north vista during our gale-force-wind hike on Wilson Mountain. You can see burned trees mingling with healthy on the right side of the panoramic. I bracketed this image but ended up only using one exposure to make the panoramic. I like how the interest is all focused close-in. The distant mesa is a dramatic presence that provides context and scale for the viewer, but the mood of this image is in the trees, rocks, clouds and the hoodoo below.

It's been a few weeks since we returned from our week-long hiking adventure in Arizona. Getting back into the swing of work and life tends to suck all the photography post-processing time out of my schedule.

This first image is one of my favorites from the trip. Kara is sitting on the top of a rock they call the Carousel at Schnebly Hill Vista. She is looking out towards the slickrock flats that they call the Cowpies. (They must have hired a marketing agency to name their vistas.) As I have worked the panoramic images from the trip, I have found myself particularly attracted to the black and white versions. The skies and pink rocks make for dramatic duotone scenes.

On our big-hike day, we made a twelve mile excursion to the mesa of Wilson Mountain at just over 7,000 feet. The winds were gale-force. Really, in this photo looking south towards Sedona, there was a 50 MPH wind blasting in our faces. We spent less than five minutes at the north vista because the wind was throwing so much dust in our eyes. Another hiking group had their lunch blown off the cliff and down the mountain. That was enough for them.

Look closely at this panoramic and you can see where we started our hike, 3,000 feet below, near the bridge at the center of the image. The section is enlarged below.

Last weekend we returned from a nine-day adventure to Arizona. The first half of the trip was spent hiking the mountains and mesas of Sedona. During the second half, we headed south to visit a friend in Tucson. Saguaro cactus dotted the land at every turn. Backlit Saguaro at sunset lit-up the spines creating a dramatic halo effect. I found that this image worked best with a very stylized duotone look--reminds me of old western movies. Stay tuned for more photos and stories of our adventures.

I always tell new photographers to make their craft an everyday activity. You won't improve if you reserve photography for vacations and holidays. Gaining proficiency with your equipment and talent for composition with the available light and limits of the landscape requires practice. So it is important to find photographic inspiration on your home turf.

Following my own advice, after six weeks of exploration and observation, I captured a handful of worthwhile Bald Eagle pictures. After our "epic" six-inch snowstorm this week, it dawned on me that afternoon light reflecting off fresh snow would provide some great conditions. I bailed on work thirty-minutes early and arrived at the nest as the magic hour was beginning. My snow-reflector idea worked. These photos captured feather detail unlike any other that I have taken.

The first photo shows an archetypal Bald Eagle pose. I successfully imitated a thousand other photographers who came before me. This second photo is more rewarding for me, even if it is less technically perfect. The Eagle is spied between branches, framed by complex intersecting lines. The sky is more washed-out. The image is generally colder and yet, more real and, inexplicably, more artistic.

We arrived at Assateague Island at about 8:30 in the morning and had found one of the resident Snowy Owls by 8:45. No sooner did I get out of the Jeep and start to setup my tripod did the little critter fly off and sit in a rut—directly in the path of vehicles that drive down the beach. I sat on the edge of a dune and watched the little owl for a minute when a couple of hunters came driving up the beach. They stopped a couple of yards in front of little Snowy-the -Owl, then drove around the guy. The owl didn't even flinch. I quietly walked within 50 yards of the little guy and he spooked, but a pickup truck can drive within 10 yards and he is motionless. So, we went back to the Jeep and drove up to sit 15 yards away and took several portraits of the little Owl. He seemed to like the camouflage and shelter provided by the eight-inch deep ruts left by trucks. I hope he pays attention to traffic.

In all the places that we sat and watched the owl, when he finally chose to fly, he always flew away from us, not towards us. What, do we smell bad—we are human, maybe we do. At several points we sat and watched the owl stay in one spot for over an hour. This little flight is the best one I got. There were others, but they were always a variation on some theme of owl butt.

In my last entry about the Snowy Owl at Assateague, I joked about snapping pictures of the owl coughing-up a pellet. Well, he actually did cough-up a pellet for us. It was gross and kind of funny—you know that look cats get before they puke, well add wings and that just about describes it. I won't punish Trailpixie.net readers with the animated GIF of the event, nor will I subject them to the macro photograph of the turd-like amalgam of fur, bones, and a discernible rodent tail, ick!

As always, I had to take some panoramic images. This one gives you a sense of the Snowy Owl's size and appearance in the habitat. Actually, I think finding a Snowy Owl at Assateague is probably a lot easier than finding them in the snowy north-country because his white feathers contrast against the tan sand.

The full sized print of this scene is 18" x 50". I like environmental portraits like this one. Last year I did another one of a Barred Owl in Northern Virginia. Unfortunately, online they don't show too well, because the little critter in the image seems kind of small, but up on my wall they are much larger and easier to see. (You can always click on my images to see them larger.) You may be curious about why the owl in this panoramic appears so much smaller than the one in the 'panoramics' from last December. Well, those weren't panoramic images; they were panoramic crops of a single frame. In print, the owl will be the same size, but online the recent image looks smaller because I chose to show a wider view comprised of about eight images.

* I apologize for the careless use of the masculine pronoun when referring to the owl. Unfortunately, the owl hasn't allowed me to verify its gender.

I'll start at the end of our story; as we drove off Assateague Island on Saturday, we enjoyed a few fleeting moments of crimson sunset looking south over Sinepuxent Bay. I made this three-image panoramic by shooting handheld out the window of my jeep. I shot the portrait images as wide as my attached lens would allow—24mm—so that I could capture Venus hovering above. This scene lasted for less than a minute. After capturing these frames, I considered getting out and setting-up my tripod (in the middle of the road), but by the time the thought had formed, the sky had darkened and the water was black.

Our trip to Assateague Island was to find the snowy owl that we photographed last December. We found the little critter and he posed for several hundred photos—more later this week. But, unlike our last trip, I vowed to not ignore the landscape for the bird. I made at least a dozen panoramic images, including these two. This second panoramic is also handheld, looking south down the beach and east out over the ocean. It probably covers about 110 degrees. This 'first draft' panoramic will need to be reprocessed because of some minor scalloping on the ocean horizon, but I really like the brightness of the sky and tire-ruts running south down the beach. This image gives you a good idea of the landscape of the island.

Wintertime is ideal for visiting the island. It was quiet. The ocean was beautiful. The sky was perfect blue without even a hint of haze. It was also 35 degrees with a blustery 30 MPH wind coming in from the west (yes west). It is kind of funny that without any cues about the weather conditions, you could almost pass this image off as taken in spring or summer. Assateague Island isn't a particularly hospitable place in summer—biting horseflies, mosquitos, etc...—but winter can be perfect. If only we had gone on Sunday when the temperatures were in the upper 50's. Ah, but perhaps all the other conditions wouldn't have cooperated for such wonderful photos.

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.

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.

This weekend we were priviliged enough to spend a day planting marsh grasses—Spartina alternaflora and Spartina patens— with lots of nice volunteers and folks from the National Aquarium in Baltimore. It was lots of fun traipsing around in the muddy, mucky water of Poplar Island.

The story about Poplar Island is pretty interesting. Apparently the island has been eroding away for the last 100 years to what is today less than one fifth the original size (check out the Google Map of the island. Loss of habitat from erosion, along with development, is a contributor to unstable critter populations in the Chesapeake Bay. To counteract the loss of habitat, The National Aquarium in Baltimore with the Army Corps of Engineers is rebuilding the island using dredgewater from the Baltimore Harbor and the Chesapeake Bay channel. Poplar Island will help add habitat for Diamondback Terrapins, Blue Crabs, and a multitude of waterfowl. When we were planting grasses, we even found some small blue crabs beginning to come into the marsh of the island to seek cover from predators.

It was a fun time being out in the sun all day. The team from the National Aquarium takes good care of their volunteers with lots of water, snacks, and cheerful fun throughout the day. I left with muddy clothes and a smile. I was even lucky enough to have come away with minimal sunburn—damn that short haircut I got last Thursday.

Here is a new pic I took in the Canaan Mountain area. I like this picture because it captures the straight lines that make up the canopy of the forest. While the picture makes the trail look relatively flat, the actual trail is heading up a hill steeply--that's the only way you could see the path of the trail easily.

It is pretty funny that the best photos are frequently the ones with the least conscious thought. You are in the moment, clicking away and something great comes your way. I don't think it is a coincidence that these great pics come when you are not expecting them. Actually, that little pine tree may have been just the warmup that I needed to see the possibilities of the panoramic shot. A great photo is more than just technically well executed, it has to capture a unique moment in time with spontaneity and credibility.

I am not sure, but I think that high resoution panoramas are not particularly well suited to online publishing. Their quality lies not only in composition, but also in detail and their expansive quality. The panorama above was printed 12 inches tall by 41 inches long. You can view it from 8 feet away and get the general feel of the photo. Then you can walk up to it and look closely at the footpath that winds its way up the side of the hill. You can examine the trees to see their individual branches. These qualities are lost in online publication.

I haven't been spending much time here at the Trailpixie hangout on the web because I have been working in the real world on some cool photography techniques. Check out Max Lyons Panoramic Images for a cool primer on digital panorama and mosaic images.

A few weeks ago, the dog woke me up at 5:45 am on a Sunday morning with a dire emergency requiring her to visit the yard. As you can imagine, I was pissed. But when we stepped out the back door the clear, dark dawn with the stars shining bright revealed that it was a perfect day for picture-making. So Instead of going back to bed, I set out to capture this panoramic image near Brown's Bridge in Maryland. I wish I had been able to set my equipment up sooner because I might have caught the beaver in this panoramic photo. This panorama uses three images stitched together with tools that are described at Max Lyons site I mentioned above. That morning, I saw a beaver, two blue herons, and a bald eagle. Not too bad for a morning started byour dog's small bladder.

Many of us who ramble around the mountains and valleys are afflicted with a malady which is related to obsessive compulsive disorders--Technical Gear Obsession. While this obsession can threaten to diminish the simple pleasures of being in the wilderness, it doesn't have to. By maintaining the right attitude about our disorder, we can still hike, ski or paddle throughout our happy and productive lives.

One type of therapy can be seen at Backpack Gear Test where some truly fanatical gear nuts can be found. God bless them, they provide some excellent reviews including the reviewers height, weight, torso length, city, and gender. I especially like the section where they review a variety of devices that allow women to pee standing up. This inequity between the genders is a big obstacle to getting more women out in the wilderness. So, I guess these gear nuts aren't that bad if they are solving problems that bring more people to the wild lands.

All of us live our lives with a different point of reference for risk and adventure. For some, an adventure may consist of trying a new brand of deoderant. For others, an adventure may be a kayak expedition to Antarctica. Adventure Philosophy represents adventure and risk as ways to explore our role in the planet and civilization. John Muir, Henry David Thoreau, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark all set out on adventures to discover nature and ended up discovering themselves.

Our adventures needn't be as extreme or dangerous as mountain climbers; they can be as mundane as Thoreau's humble and secure experiment in living simply. But, risk and adventure, however you seek it, helps us to maintain a balanced view of ourselves and our place on the planet. So, as we are on the cusp of the temperate season, choose your wilderness adventure. Cross the Chesapeake in a kayak, climb Mount Porte Crayon from the bottom, or bike the length of Canaan Mountain's Plantation trail.

...and if you do nothing else, visit Adventure Philosophy.com.

God Hate's Shrimp. It is always great when someone comes up with a crystal-clear example of closed-mindedness and reveals it for what it is--ignorance! "And all that have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall be an abomination unto you"

Yeah!! You tell em God!

I found a cool Weblog about kayaking the Chesapeake Bay. It is nice to see outdoors focused weblogs since the format is ideally suited to trip/trail reports. I haven't seen many outdoors focused weblogs (Rick Reed's excluded perhaps, but his is more of a personal weblog with some outdoors related stuff thrown in.). So, Woody's Kayak Trip Reports is a nice site to read about the wilderness of the Chesapeak Bay. So instead of "Ramble the Bogs and Scramble the Boulders," we can "Paddle the Marshes and Ride the Swells."

I had the pleasure of my first solid weekend of backcountry skiing this weekend. I headed straight up to Round Top and then on To Bald Knob. This panorama was taken in the beautiful glades behind Bald Knob along the trail called Beech Lick. I was the first person to ski through in a few days, so most of the trails were covered with untracked snow. There is nothing quite so spiritual as gliding silently like a ghost through the woods with nary a sound besides the friction of ski on snow. I stopped in this spot and took this 3 frame panorama.

Earlier in the day, I visited the shelter at Sawmill Flats. There was a generous supply of Granola Bars (otherwise known as 'John Denvers') as well as a nice little wood stove. After a break, I set the camera up on the stove, set the timer and shot a "portrait of the Pixie as a young Skier." It was one of those pictures where you look a little bit like the super-hero that you are in your dreams. I guess the picture reflects my mental state at the moment. I was in the only place in the world I wanted to be doing exactly what I wanted to be doing. Life doesn't have enough of these moments, so if the picture looks like I am about to "leap a tall building in a single bound," you will have to forgive me. I felt on top of the world.

Check out WhiteGrass.com for more information about how you can get that super-hero, dreamy feeling.

There are some beautiful pine trees clinging to the top of the rocks at Seneca Rocks. They live their lives overseeing a breathtaking vista generally reserved for rock climbers and mountain goats. Seneca Rocks offers those of us who don't lead-climb access to these views.

This weekend we planned to cross country ski at Whitegrass but there wasn't much snow and it was melting fast. Instead, we drove down to Seneca Rocks and made the quick 40 minute hike to the top and a view that couldn't be beat. I have visited Seneca Rocks several times in the summer only to be a bit disappointed at the hazy skies. But a winter hike is much better. The skies are crystal clear and you can see for miles and miles.The views are better all along the trail because the leaves are off the trees. So, if you are in the area and disappointed by a lack of snow, take a quick jaunt down to Seneca Rocks. You won't miss the crowds of summer and the view is inspiring! Panaorama from the Top

Pixies are running up and down the mountains and coast of Taiwan. I have been traveling in Taipei Taiwan on business and managed to sneak away for the afternoon to see some sights.

I have been staying in city of Taipei and I can describe in a few words: energetic, frenetic, polluted, smoggy, and friendly. If my descriptions betray mixed emotions about this country, that's okay. Read on:

I have been constantly struck by how westernized Taiwan is. I had lunch at Burger King today (more about that later), there is a Dominos Pizza, 7 Eleven, and Ponderosa restaurant nearby. While Taiwan is highly westernized, there are distinct qualities that seperate it from anything western. Motor scooters travel the streets like schools of fish, somehow miraculously never running into each other and causing a catastrophic chain reaction. People everywhere are polite, friendly, and defferential. Yet, the most unique features of this country are the marketplaces that are unlike anything you will ever see in the US.

Today I walked through a marketplace in the village of Chiufen. I was compelled to try foods that I didn't recognize. Only half of the unusual foods that I tried were difficult to swallow. (Note to self, next time take some strong mints or gum to counteract unpleasant flavors that seem to hang on the pallete like a long humid afternoon.) The narrow pathways through the marketplace had a dirty film over the buildings and cobblestones deposited there from a combination of smog and street cooking. Several of the food stands would wash pots and pans or even rinse foods out onto the walkway. One stand cooked their sweet potato dumplings by placing the dumplings in a colander and washing hot water over them and allowing the water to run down the side of the walkway. The result is smells that tug wildliy on your senses, running from the warm, soothing smell of tea to the putrid odor of slightly rotten meat or fish. I experienced sensory overload. They must have been laughing at the wide-eyed white guy. Tomorrow night I am going to a much larger "Night Market" in the city.

If you want to see my pictures, take a look at my family gallery under Marc in Taiwan.

About that Burger King: I must admit that I am a sucker for a hamburger and french fries--even one from a fast food joint like Burger King. Today I strolled into the Burger King, pointed to the meal-deal menu on the counter, and used hand gestures to indicate what I wanted. The cashier held up a cup to ask me what I wanted to drink. I said "Coke." She knew what that meant. I guess that Coke is a universal term. I got my burger and headed off to a counter to devour it. I need to tell you something else about my burger and fries addiction. It also includes ketchup. This is not merely that I like ketchup with my fries and on my burger. I see the ketchup as a side dish. I am the only one I know who agreed with Ronald Reagan that ketchup was a vegetable, and for me, it is! I like to hold a bottle of ketchup and pour it on my burger, individually, for each bite. Well, here in Taipei, you get one ketchup packet with each order. I didn't want to be rude so, I had to make do with only one ketchup packet. Nevertheless, after eating excellent Chinese dumplings, yummy tropical fruits, and noodles and rice with everything for the last week, I was highly content to eat my burger without additional ketchup and ration out my ketchup for each fry. Taipei is cool, but I miss home.

Wow! It isn't often that I read about something that is so completely cool that I have to instantly write it on Trailpixie, but this one got me.

World Beard and Moustache Championships

I am speachless. I feel like a kid in a candy shop trying to pick which one I want.....I think I like Willi Chevalier's triple beard. Those are some serious brooms. You could lose a bagel in there.

I finally got the pages up for the Spruce Knob and Seneca Creek areas. I took some of my nicest pictures on our recent backpacking trip to Spruce Knob. We started our trip below Spruce Knob and headed down the relatively boring Lumberjack trail and from there everything was beautiful.

I have talked before about waterfalls, and this area has its share of cascading waterfalls. The Falls of Seneca Creek rumble over a 30' ledge into a deep green pool. The Rhododendron overhang the falls while the tall Hemlock trees lean over the stream and darken the deep wooded cathedral.

I also added some destinations to the Canaan Mountain area. Lindy's Point is a beautiful and easy hike while Canaan Loop Road is a rugged forest service road that can be treacherous at times.

Pixies have been flailing over here for awhile. I still haven't put up my pictures of the Spruce Knob area. Last weekend, We hiked in the Flatrock Plains area of Dolly Sods. A short 4 mile hike into the wilderness along Forest Road 70 put us on top of a 4495' high mountain with a beautiful view to the southeast, looking down on Seneca Rocks.

Several new comments have been added by Trailpixie contributors. John Holded added his confirmation of the winds of Dolly Sods to Round Hilltop, Russ Sypen let his voice be heard about unofficial established campsites in the backcountry at Lion's Head Campsite, Gray Max backpacked at Dolly Sods, Jim Kirk hiked the length of the Otter Creek Trail, and Rick Reed gave us a personal tidbit about Bald Knob.

We need a new Pixie Poll. Any suggestions out there?

Pixies have been rambling the hills and valleys around Spruce Knob. Check back soon for stories and pictures of our journeys along the Seneca Creek trail. Rained lots up there. Temperature was in the low 70's. We took shelter from the rain under a large rock outcropping. We felt like prehistoric man with a fire in the opening of a cave. It was too cold to swim, so we had to be content to view the High Falls of Seneca Creek from afar. "I'll be back."....I guess we will be hearing that mantra repeatedly.

Check back soon...

These windmills are a few miles south of Thomas along Route 219. The line of windmills dots the ridges running north from this location. I had seen them before from a distance--lined up along the horizon. On a clear day when the sky is blue, they stand out like sentries on the horizon, but on hazy or cloudy days when the sky is white or gray, the windmills fade into their background.

Some have suggested that they are unsightly or eyesores. Some environmentalists have suggested that they will have a negative impact on the local environment, although their claim isn't yet substantiated. In my mind I havan't dismissed the possibility of some unconceived-of environmental impact akin to the salmon population declines that have been caused by dams in the Pacific Northwest.

What I do know is that I right now I am writing on an electric computer in my air-conditioned house. Industries need to try clean alternatives to fossil fuels that blacken and scar our landscapes. If we reveal that the windmills have harmful impacts, we need to be prepared to fall-back and try something else. As for their asthetic impact, they look better than the strip mines that dot the West Virginia landscape.

To me, these windmills are monuments to innovation in pursut of clean sources of power. Even John Muir was an inventor as well as a naturalist. Perhaps someday new old-growth forests will grow up around the windmills and create a grand forest of man-made and nature-made sustainable spires, converting wind to power and CO2 to Oxygen.

Pixies have been busily working on the site here. We have changed the banner of the site with a new panoramic picture of Lion's Head in Dolly Sods. We also added the ability for You to add your comments about any page in the site.

Please accept my invitation to become a TrailPixie contributor by adding your trail reports, responses or other stories that you have about our wild and natural places.

My work has just begun, stop back soon to find pictures from our recent excursions to Otter Creek, Dolly Sods, and Canaan Mountain areas.

This last weekend Kara and I went to the Purple Fiddle. We were somewhat reluctant like you always are when you try some new hangout. We quickly felt at home at this little out of the way place in Thomas West Virginia. I can't stress enough that it is out-of-the-way. If you have ever been to the Birchmere in Arlington Virginia, this place is like it in miniature with kids, comfy chairs and great ice cream. You can also get beer if you want.

So next time you are rattling around in the Monongahela Highlands, drop in. It's in Thomas. You can't miss it.

Well after weeks of rain upon rain upon rain, we finally got our new kayaks out on West River. We went on a Friday night after work. It was a good thing too, because the weekend didn't net us anymore paddle-worthy days.

NOTE: This is probably the first time that I have placed my picture on the front page of TrailPixie.net. If this results in a dramatic decrease in traffic to the Pixie website, I will learn my lesson and never repeat my mistake. Also, this is the first time that Kara's picure has been up on the front page of the site. We will see how this goes over.

I have also finally added more pictures. After completing a Geocache at Table Rock, I took some new pictures for the site(the old ones were all on cloudy days). I also got a decent panorama to put up there too.

During the same weekend, we got some nice flower pictures too. One of the pictures was of a Lady Slipper--perhaps the most lude flower found indigenously in the US--and the other was a low marsh flower which I haven't identified yet. Both are quite pretty.

Her picture is a very small picture. I can't imagine that she would be that upset....

After taking a long winter hiatus, I am back hiking the backwoods of the Monangahela Highlands. My most recent addition is Lindy's Run of Canaan Mountain area. We hiked there last weekend and had a fantastic time.

There is one question that I had. How do you tell the difference between a Balsam Fir and a Red Spruce. I think I saw Balsam Fir in the area.

Take a look at the picture above. Which is it? Red Spruce or Balsam Fir? Respond by answering the poll in the left column of this page.

I also took a really cool panoramic picture at the north end of Lindy's Run Trail. I am learning to use my new digital camera to take nature pictures. I am not sure whether or not it will replace my 35mm camera, but it's lots easier to carry my little Canon A70 camera than my big heavy Nikon 6006. So far the results are encouraging. On this hike I did drop the camera and put a nice scratch on it. I guess I can stop worrying about messing up my new camera. It is already besmirched.

Also added recently is a page on Lion's Head. Take a look at the view.

We started by creating a perimeter of briars in the middle of the woods. We dragged sticker bushes from all over the area into our small fortress area. We encircled a twenty-foot perimeter with sticker bushes arranged like concertina wire. After a few days of this difficult work, we were scratched and bloodied. But, we weren�t satisfied yet. We figured that they could easily crawl under the briars or cut them away with clippers (yes, we thought people would crawl under them). So we gathered a bunch of old beer bottles that had been left in an abandoned fire-ring near the construction sites � no doubt the site of drunken construction-worker binges. We took the beer bottles and shattered them all around the perimeter of the fortress. We intermingled the broken bottles in through the sticker bushes and all over the ground. We left a narrow path through the sharp, prickly carnage where we could barely crawl into the fortress. A fox would have had a difficult time following this little wildlife trail.

Our defensive preparations were going well. We rested for a few days while we worked on the observation platform that was suspended by sisal twine fifteen-feet up in the trees (it was actually probably seven feet, but boys will always exaggerate lengths). The platform consisted of a few sticks lashed to three tree trunks making a triangular stand without a platform to sit on. We sat or stood on the sticks while we yelled obscenities at AJ who was trying to break through our perimeter.

One day, AJ finally got through the perimeter. We reasoned that if AJ could get in, the construction workers certainly could. So we set out to improve the perimeter. This time we got axes and bow saws. We cut down large pine trees so that when they fell, their branches overlapped each other making a thick impenetrable wall that was hiding briars and broken beer bottles. It was indeed an imposing obstacle for any intruder. AJ gave up trying to play with us when we retreated to the fort since he was unable to manage the hand-over-hand jungle gym like maneuver required to get over the fallen trees and onto the platform. Eventually like all early forts, it was abandoned to the elements. The construction never did extend to the fortress; we turned back the intruders, although eventually we could see the house from our observation platform. Our need for a wilderness fortress was over.

How do Children become so xenophobic?

We spent Saturday afternoon rambling around Bald Knob and some of the areas above, behind and below the overlook area. The weather held out for us, and we spent the day poking around the valley trying at one point to take a trip down a trail in the Canaan Valley Wildlife Refuge. Unfortunately, the trail only went a few hundred yards before disappearing into beaver ponds and bogs.

As we traveled north past Red Creek Campground, the meter maids became obsolete. The unmarked and largely undocumented region must be foreboding to the casual adventurer. While many people on the web have mapped out the informal network of trails in that region, they are not in wide publication when compared with the maps and guidebooks that cover the Southern Dolly Sods region. It isn't fair to blame overcrowding in wilderness areas on a guidebook, but it does make me hesitate to distribute maps that I was given that cover the northern area of Dolly Sods. Part of my heart wants to keep that region wild and uncrowded. The area in the north of Dolly Sods remains a glorious exile. To be safe, it requires some basic skills in map reading and compass use (or for the techies, a $400 GPS). Easy routes marked on the maps frequently reveal themselves as boggy moats protecting red spruce sheltered boudoirs.

I will make the maps available, check back later this week. If people have the skills, the ethics and the perseverance, I think they deserve to have information to help them ramble the hills. For those who take the information and turn back, they may gain a deeper appreciation of the term WILDerness.

Check out this interesting news satire page Brokennewz.com. I don't know if it will replace the empty space that SatireWire left in my cynical heart.

We had a little spring in our backyard. Several times a week we made the trek downstream, between backyards, through the three-foot drainage pipe, over the innumerable boulders and logs, and around or through the plentiful briars and brush to the big stream. We made a game of trying to stay dry. We pretended that the water was acid and that getting our feet wet would kill us. We sometimes made it halfway down before we ended up getting our shoes completely covered in mud and water. But we would finally get down to the confluence of the two unnamed streams where we hopped from one rock to another and searched for sticks that looked like swords.

We dueled with wooden swords. We hit each other with wooden swords. We cursed at each other. We bruised. We were well out of sight of the nearest houses that were perched on high, steep hills flanking both sides of the stream, so we were in a dangerous wilderness where we needed sticks as defense from some unidentified threat (probably our favorite little monster the kobold).

On the few occasions that we saw other people (usually teenagers lightin' up), we felt compelled to hide because people in the wilderness are always there to kill or maim you. When we hid, I was always breathing heavy and afraid the noise from my panting would give us away--I wasn't the most athletic kid. As we lay flat on the ground, motionless, beside a rotten log, the dry leaves rustled at each fast breath. When we got home, we would get in trouble for getting our shoes wet.

Why do kids get in trouble for getting their shoes wet?

I recall my brother, Ian, describing when he and my Dad discovered the "Bloody Shack" in "The Woods". When Ian told the story, it sounded like they were the first humans to hike through "The Woods" to the now infamous place. When he told the story, I was always jealous that he had the privilege of "discovering" it with my dad. In reality, the Bloody Shack was an old, abandoned gas station that was being reclaimed by nature-- pine trees growing up around it, roof and walls weathered and worn. The place had concrete walls and a decaying concrete ceiling that smelled like wet gravel.

My brother and I liked to go up there with sledge hammers, climb on the roof, hammering, trying to knock holes in the roof and walls--no we weren't trying to help the land return to nature, we were just angry kids with sledge hammers. I was probably angry that I didn't get to "discover" it with my Dad and wanted to destroy it, but we were both pretty angry kids. We thought that taking a sledgehammer to an abandoned building was bad--something we could get in trouble for--some sort of vandalism. In reality, it was a mildly dangerous place for us to take out aggression away from safety-conscious adults who would frown on destructive activities.

I remember building a stove with bricks that were laying around the Bloody Shack, lighting a hot fire in the stove and throwing a can of spray-paint in. We ran. It exploded throwing bricks and hot embers all over the shack's carcass. We talked about how cool it was. We didn't do it again. Eventually, someone bulldozed the building and carted away all the rubble.

--Children today are much safer than we were.--

Earlier this week I added one of my favorite recent photographs to the Nature Gallery section. When I was taking photographs at this location along the Chester River, I knew that the afternoon light on the golden brown grass and the blue water was going to make a great picture. This photo has become much more than a chronical of my visit to Eastern Neck Wildlife Refuge. The Photo has brought has become something new unto itself. I think it has become art.

I have realized that photography I like is art instead of photography as documentary or photojournalism. Photojournalism tries to tell a story and in that process, it interprets and imposes meaning for the viewer. It can frequently be exploitive and intrusive. I avoid taking pictures of people for many of these reasons. When I look at some of the Farm Security Administration pictures from Walker Evans and James Agee, I can't help but feel like an accomplice to exploitation. Many have criticized my photographs for lacking in a human element, but I feel that when a photo is composed and taken of a person, it quickly can become a lie. That bugs me. I want to take pictures of nature that will transcend the moment in which they were taken.

I have been workin' under the hood of the website to improve some things....most of them pretty subtle to viewers. First, I changed some server-side scripts to improve the speed of the main page download, which was very slow. I also added a search engine to the site. Finally, I am changing over to a new style-sheet layout that will add a black border to tables (I know you are saying "wow! Pixie man, that is anal...!). Not all the pages are upgraded to the new format yet. That will be a project for when I have a few mindless hours to spend. I am most proud of the server-side scripting stuff which schedules the update of the weather hourly and the update of ENN News and The Onion daily. The site performance is significantly improved as a result.

Bees that travel 50 miles an hour....

Ironing your shirts while whitewater kayaking or Ice Climbing...

The greates online game ever invented...

Satirewire goes archive...

Bees that travel 50 miles an hour. I saw the most amazing bee the other day. This bee rode my windsheild for well over 5 miles while I was traveling over 50 mph. Amazing! Why did he do it? Was he running away from home?... Was he trying to relocate? .... getting away from a bad relationship? ...... the queen bee banished him to the nether-regions? ...... was he trying to propogate his genetic makeup in a different area? I don't know, but he was able to cling to my smooth windshield for more than 5 minutes. At first I thought he was dead, then at a stop sign, he crawled further down the windshield and held on there for a few more minutes. I think this is some kind of extreme bee-car-surfing-sport.

Ironing your shirts while whitewater kayaking or Ice Climbing Speaking of extreme sports, try extreme ironing. Yes...ironing....no that is not an error, I wrote ironing. I don't know what kind of weird websurfing my mother-in-law was doing when she found this site, but here it is www.extremeironing.com.

The greates online game ever invented I won't tell you what kind of weird surfing I was doing when I found the greatest online game ever. This site is in Swedish, but it doesn't matter. This site has a build-your-own slotcar track where you can build it and then compete with the computer or with a friend. It is peculiarly addictive. Online Slotcar Game.

Satirewire goes archive One of my favorite sites, Satirewire, will no longer be updated. In an uncharacteristically sincere letter, the author of Satirewire has decided to stop updating the site any more. He has turned the site into an archive which is the equivalent of death on the Internet. He mentions the fact that the site has 1 million visitors a month, and as a result, he recieved offers to purchase the site. He declined. I thought it was an admirable decision to let satirewire die instead of seeing it mangled into a commercial venture.

Some research has shown that the environment created by waterfalls (producing negative ions etc...) can have the effect of improving mood. I found Ruth's Waterfall website where she describes what she refers to as "The Grin Syndrome" which occurs when people experience a waterfall, they are happier and more energetic. I experience this when I see waterfalls or stand by the ocean. I feel almost giddy when I descend into a narrow canyon or ravine to find a dramatic waterfall.

There are a great many causes and effects in this world which we cannot scientifically prove. Or perhaps more accurately, science hasn't gotten around to looking at the many of these causes. Waterfalls improving mood......yep, I beleive that one, don't need science to prove it for me. When a waterfall is reduced to a pathetic trickle, the world is a grumpier place.

Frequently I retreat to photos of waterfalls to improve my mood. I think that on first glance the best photo is the first one of Falling Springs, although, perhaps the most interesting photo is the next one which is taken from beneath falling springs. Another one that I recently added was taken at the Lower Falls of Hills Creek. This photo was spliced together as a vertical panorama. It came out pretty well.

Let the rain fall and waterfalls flow.

Roadsides are littered with signs that say things like Patricia A. LaGrange for Judge of the Orphan's Court, or Louise V. Snodgrass, Representative for House of Delegates. That is the first sign that it is election time again. As the season progresses, we see another election strategy. It is called the stand beside the road with an attractive woman and wave while holding your sign strategy. I have seen it deployed in several districts. The benefits of this strategy are that the candidates don't need to answer difficult questions, and they needn't fear sticking their foot in their mouth, like the guy running for the house of representatives who stopped by my door, with his attractive young woman at his side, and asked if my parents were home.

--ASIDE--

Do you know the "Repeated Word Phenomenon" where you repeat the same word over and over agin until it ceases to have meaning. Perhaps you pick a word or phrase like "proposed" or "exhaust fumes." Repeat the word or phrase one hundred times, and you won't be able to tell, a) What the word means. or b) Tell whether you are pronouncing it right.
--END OF ASIDE--

So there is this candidate with his attractive young woman by his side, you couldn't tell if it was his young wife or older daughter. He was standing by the side of the road avoiding difficult questions and traffic as he waved to everyone. He even pretended to make eye-contact with some people. I think HE was pretty good at this waving thing, but he wasn't very good at picking his attractive young woman because she was betraying him with her wave. Perhaps it was the automotive fumes, but for whatever reason, her wave was demonstrating a new application to the "Repeated Word Phenomenon" where the limpness in her wrist and the weakness in her elbow made it was clear that she had forgotten how to wave, and she couldn't even remember what the wave was supposed to mean. I think that there is probably another correlary to the "Repeated Word Phenomenon" where if you see lots of people doing the same thing mindlessly, you forget what it was they were trying to say.

This morning I added the Lion's head section. During our last trip to Dolly Sods in June, we finally stopped at Lion's Head. WOW! It is fantastic. I will never again walk within 2 miles of this vista without stopping to take in the view. You should take a look yourself.

I also updated a page I was calling "Forbidden Campsite." This campsite had Forest Service signs telling visitors not to camp there. This rule has since been rescinded and the area is once again available for camping. The section is now called Red Creek Forks. I added photos of the location in 1995, 1997(after the flooding of 1996) and 2002. The differences are pretty interesting.

Finally, I added a page about Bald Knob. It is my first attempt at a panorama stitched together using Photoshop. It came out pretty well except for a little bit of the sky which doesn't match the color saturation. Actually is ends up being a pretty cool effect.

www.jonathanjessup.com has some extraordinary photos of natural wonders in and around the West Virginia Highlands. The Pixie is humbled in the shadow of greatness. Take a look!!

Finding communities can be hard. Not all communities revolve around geography (like a township) or revolve around faith based activities held in a church. Thank God! I would be very lonely. When the Internet is at its best, it helps to reveal other communities that can provide human interaction and awareness that helps drive away the lonely feeling that nobody else thinks or acts like me.

Walk, sail, or drive around the Chesapeake Bay, and you are unlikely to detect the Sierra Club and the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center's collaborative effort toward saving the bay with programs like Watershed Radio. They provide short audio programs about the Chesapeake Bay Watershed. These daily programs are a fun way to start the work morning. I like to listen to these programs and reflect on nature and the environment. It keeps me from getting too wound up in work. In the program linked below, they describe Dolly Sods. Browse around a little. It is a fun site.

Watershed Radio

Hike or drive around Tucker County West Virginia, and you are unlikely to detect the West Virginia Highland Conservancy, but it's there. They are fighting the mountain-top wars to save West Virginia highland resources from logging, mountain top removal mining, and development. The site includes some interesting ways to get involved in the fight to preserve natural resources. I especially enjoy their scientific articles on ecology of the region.
West Virginia Highland Conservancy

Drive around the shadow of Bald Knob in a Canaan Valley winter, and you are unlikely to find the thriving community that gathers at White Grass Touring Center, but it's there. Chip's White Grass Touring Center report page includes far more than mere trail reports for the cross country ski touring area. Chip includes community and environmental snippets, emails from friends and neighbors (local and worldwide), and lots of plain fun with pictures and links. Chip has nurtured a great community in the shadow of Bald Knob and this little page will make you feel like you too are in the warm embrace of White Grass hospitality.
White Grass Touring Center Report

The Unofficial Roy Rogers website has been updated. This site is what the Internet IS ALL ABOUT. Take a look at the site to read about the story of corporate greed and gluttony that almost killed the Great Restaurant that Roy Built. Read Roy's menu. See the history of Roys. I am not kidding. This site is what the Internet is all about. This site represents all the possibilities of self publishing, independant news sources, linking people across cultures.

I am not kidding. This site is what the internet is all about.

This site gets the top google search hit on "Roy Roger's Restaurant!!

Google knows, this site is what the internet is all about. It is peculiar, clumsy and silly, but This site is what the Internet is all about. Perhaps someday I will have the top hit at Google about something....anything.

A cute little pixie was brought into this world on Saturday evening. Alycia Marie was born to Ian and Lisabeth. We visited on Sunday. I was amazed to see the joy that the little pixie brought as she was passed from arms to arms around the family.

I admire the selfless resolve that her parents have shown as they have creatively rearranged their lives and careers to make sure that this child is lovingly raised by parents instead of outsourced child rearing services. Their love and determination will create a safe haven for Alycia to shield her from the slings and arrows of a cruel world.....although I am not sure about dog spit...I think that she will get lots of dog spit.

This evening I scanned 60 new photos for new content. It is very exciting to see them take shape. These pictures reflect our outdoor excursions over the last two years. Check back soon to see new pictures of Canaan Valley State Park, Bald Knob, Roaring Plains, New Dolly Sods and Otter Creek Pictures as well as some from the Cranberry Glades. It is so exciting to put together these photo journals because it makes me want to go out and see more places, and take more pictures. Who cares if only 3 people check this site. Perhaps I am doing this all for myself?

Taking pictures, I think, is by nature a peculiar endeavor. Sometimes I am very against taking the picture, since it attempts to freeze a time and place onto a piece of paper. It is doomed in that effort because it can't possibly capture all the nuiances of the weather, the feeling, the comraderie or company etc.... On the other hand, sometimes a photo can make a place and time look better than it was. That is perhaps where the art comes in. In these two facts lies my problem with photography: you can pursue the ideal photo and disregard the experience of the time and place, or you can pursue the experience of a time and place and enjoy the moment as much as possible. Photos that are taken to capture a time and place, can sometimes be melancholy because they depict an experience that can't be duplicated ever again in the history of man. So if you are looking for photos to chronicle life's experiences, the photos will eventually have a melancholy feel of looking back on idealized times of youth.

If this posting works then I will be knocking Marc's beautiful 'cul-de-sac' essay out of pole position. This web page is nifty if you don't mind navigating around a system with more bugs than a tuna sandwich on a picnic blanket on a warm summer day.

Please check out the new 'Discarded toy gallery'.

Don't believe for a second that Marc has cornered the use of 'trailpixie' on the internet. There is also Marc's German evil twin brother website -- trailpixie.de and the insidious website with merchandise, trailpixie.com.

Years ago a peculiar friend of mine coined the expression "cul-de-sac on the information superhighway." I found it amusing and at the same time rather pessimistic. Of course, you have to remember that he coined this phrase in the late 1990s when everybody was irrational with their exuberance about the infinite possibilities of the internet breaking down geographic and cultural barriers enabling commerce and other claptrap. Today his phrase is more appropriate.

Where are we today? We have the great Trinity of all e-commerce: E-Bay, Amazon and any porn site.com. Useful exchange of ideas and information are rare. Surfing the web has become window-shopping the web. And when you window-shop the web, all of the Shopping sites provide the same reused product descriptions that are all pulled from the same supplier database with the same product graphic and same price. If they are able to provide fresh content, it's provided by customers (or marketing people from the manufacturer masquerading as a customer). The information provided by other customers is frequently: biased, poorly written and/or inaccurate.

So let me get back to the cul-de-sac idea. my little site that has pretty pictures, some maps, and descriptions of natural settings. It has what would be considered multimedia content (text and images with some interactivity in the form of links). I think someone getting ready to go to Dolly Sods or Otter Creek would find the site useful and, hopefully, entertaining. The information is informal, but not impromptu. It is planned. It is crafted. The form, structure and content have evolved deliberately....if somewhat devoid of an audience--and that is the problem. Without an audience, the site is a cul-de-sac. It is shared with a few family and friends. It may cross some geographic barriers and possibly a few cultural barriers, but it doesn't connect people and make an online community.

In the late 1990s we talked about connecting people and ideas. It hasn't happened. How do I connect (online or in real life) with people who want to discuss or explore nature?

How do I break free from the cul-de-sac?

Welcome to TrailPixie.net. Browse the trails of West Virginia, Maryland and Virginia.

Why TrailPixie?
I have been asked that question many times. I wanted to name the site something that didn't sound like any existing idea. People have E-zines or E-journals or travel logs. This site is intended to be something new and different. Four years ago we had never heard of Amazon.com or ebay. Both of these identities have come to be synonymous with a new type of commerce and interaction. I am not trying to compare this little pixie site with these goliaths. What I am trying to do is let my ideas about a website create something new.

TrailPixie.net is intended to become a broad and tolerant community of thoughtful people with ideas that will shape its dialog and content. I want people to contribute pictures and stories that come together into more than the careless assmblage of superficial commentary that pervade many online forums. This site is not a forum.

I will be adding more Pixie Droppings pages throughout the site for you to add your stories to the stories I have already started. Please email me if you have any ideas or comments. Also email me if you want to be able to post to the Pixie Droppings pages. I will promptly email you back a username and password.

Well, this is starting to take shape. The only php stuff I need to get working is the newsfeed stuff so that I can serve stuff from other sites. that will be cool. I think I will also do two different news: one for everyone and one just for the Pixie. I was also going to put a link of the week on the site. I can probably find some weird stuff to link up there.

Well, the upgrade looks to be working, but I am now working on the header. I am not sure whether or not it looks right. I will need to monkey with the logo and site navigation a bit.

later gotta go fix some greek pita salad for dinner...yumm!! It's what Pixie's eat.