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THE BEAR ADDED INSULT TO INJURY . . .
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THE BEAR ADDED INSULT TO INJURY . . .

Every photographer knows that the most valuable shot is often "the shot nobody else can get". This image of a bear inspecting Robert's tripod reminds me of one such effort to get that 'elusive' image. A local 'guide' offered that opportunity to a dear friend of ours to photograph a very large boar away from the crowds of other photographers. The two of them set out across the dryer parts of the Salmon River making their way across and around the hundreds of downed trunks of giant trees that had washed downstream when the river had flooded. They did eventually sight the boar making its way toward them not far away. They took refuge behind a massive trunk although the 'guide' maintained that the bear 'surely was not aware of their presence'. Considering the giant size of the nasal cavity of a bear, that is almost always a big mistake and it was in this case, too. The huge boar continued to advance toward them and they decided to abandon the tripod and camera equipment and they retreated farther away. The boar inspected all of our friend's equipment, sniffing and turning it over and over. He then stepped down hard where the larger camera and lens were attached to the tripod and they heard an ominous crack. The boar stepped back, sniffed the air and then, to add insult to injury, the boar stepped up and peed on all of the equipment! (Fortunately, our friend had a small camera he carried on a strap around his neck and he was able to record the event and submit a claim to his insurance company!)

GrizzlyTRIPODJACKETANDBEAR1168

  • Nov 29th 2001 We left our campground, Cattail Cove, just outside of Parker AZ and stopped to chat with the Ranger at Bill Williams River NWR who told us someone had reported “The biggest darn vulture you’ll ever see! It’s sitting on a post alongside the highway hissing and flapping its huge wings at cars as they pass by!” How could we pass that up?! The ‘vulture’ turned out to be a California Condor that had left it’s home base in The Grand Canyon and had flown farther south than any other of the condors being managed by The Peregrine Fund for their California Condor Restoration Project. We spent the day photographing the condor as it flew from rock to rock and overhead. California Condors have a body length of over 4 feet long and a wingspan of about 9-1/2 feet so you can imagine the thrill of having something of that size flying directly over your head several times! The condor was fitted with two numbered wing patches and transmitters. Sophie Osborn, Field Manager of the project, arrived that evening with an assistant to attempt to protect the condor and ‘encourage’ it to fly back home again. A major concern was the many major power lines in that area near Parker Dam, which were in the bird's flight path back north. What an endeavor that turned out to be! For three days, Sophie and Chad were able to ‘chase’ the condor to higher perches on the red rock outcroppings of the vertical canyon walls in that area to keep it away from traffic danger. Sophie’s mountain-goat-like ability to climb hundreds of feet up the canyon wall, around and over the rocks, in just a very few minutes was absolutely amazing to watch and something she accomplished numerous times each day. The condor did, occasionally, seem to be testing the air currents in an attempt to gain altitude and the hope was that it might return to the Project site in The Grand Canyon if it could find the ’right’ thermals. Finally, late on December lst, Number 98, as the condor was called, reached a very high perch, rested for about 30 minutes and then flew up and up and up until it was lost to the sight of all of our binoculars. Sophie advised us that they would be able to track the condor’s transmitters and she promised to let us know when and if the condor had returned home. (The good news is that, although it took about two weeks, Number 98 DID make it back to it’s Grand Canyon home again!)
  • December lst, 1999 THIS TERRIBLE SHOT OF A HOOPOE COST US OVER $6,000! <br /> Checked into the Hotel Residencia Patilla in El Saler, a small town on the southern edge of Valencia, Spain, on the Mediterranean coast and spent a couple of days exploring the pine woods and La Albufera Wildlife Reserve and dining on delicious paella at a warm and welcoming little restaurant there. We were still searching for the elusive Hoopoe, a little clown of drab orange bird with plumage like black and white striped ‘pants’, a long pointed bill and a peaked crown. So, we were excited to see one fly into the woods and to find a pull-out at the roadside right there. Robert walked into the woods with his camera while Virginia first ducked behind a big bush to pee, then emerged, surprised to see that another car had parked nearby but relieved to see there was no one in sight of her. We followed the Hoopoe down the pathway as the little devil managed to stay just far enough ahead of us in the dim light to make any good photo impossible. The other car was gone when we returned and we drove some distance before realizing that one of the back windows had a big hole in it! WE HAD BEEN ROBBED! Gone were Canon cameras and lenses, a purse containing checks, rings and watches, and a large package of travel clothing we picked up from the cleaners. Damn! Fortunately, we always carried our passports, some cash, travelers’ checks and credit cards in two wallets around our necks. Reporting the theft to the police was a Three Stooges escapade including first finding the ‘right kind’ of police (the first two were the ‘wrong kind’); then following a third officer in his car to the “central station” as it raced at breakneck speed through, by then dark, dusty, narrow roads and suspicious-looking alley-ways; then making a long, complicated “report” in very broken high-school Spanish, only to be ASSURED that it was most certainly a COMPLETELY hopeless matter. The next morning we posted a notice on the broken window of our car which stated, we hope (in high-school Spanish), that trying to steal anything further from the car was pointless as we had already been robbed and that we would pay MANY pesetas for the return of our property to the desk at the hotel (they had kindly agreed to be our ‘middle-men’). The next evening as we watched the car from our seats by the window of a restaurant and ate our card-table-sized pan of wonderful paella, several people stopped, read our little notice, laughed and laughed and walked on . . .
  • The work day ends with a peaceful stroll along the cobbled promenade on the shore of the lagoon at El Rocio, Spain. What a lovely way to transition to evening the walk-about is! It's called a 'paseo' here in Spain; in Italy it's also a tradition and is called a 'passeggiata', and both are much more appealing to us than the rigorous 'run' made in our fast-paced home in the US (and perhaps better for the heart and soul, too!)
  • LAVENDER SUNSET OVER EL ROCIO, SPAIN<br /> December 7th and 8th, 1999 Arrived at the Parque Nacional de Donana wildlife reserve and settled into the Hotel Puente del Rey in El Rocio, a very interesting small town on the edge of the Parque on the shore of a vast lagoon, wild horses on the edge of the water, thousands of flamingos feeding and flying about, the far shoreline covered with the stately ’umbrella’ type pine trees; a warm red cobbled walkway with ornate, iron lamp-posts and iron benches alongside the lagoon. Almost all of the buildings are the startling white we’ve seen in most of this part of Spain, including a large, very pretty old church with an enormous “shell” entry over the huge iron entry doors, several bell towers and a brilliant gold altar – this church’s saint is the Virgin of the Dew - a pilgrimage each year draws nearly a million people to this small community. A wedding was in progress, the party all in traditional, provincial dress. Except for the cobbled promenade by the lagoon there is NO PAVEMENT in the whole town, everyone walking or driving the sand streets in cars or horse-drawn carts, covered walkways along the buildings, many outdoor cafes under awnings, eucalyptus trees, open areas like squares but no signals, stop-signs, sidewalks or asphalt anywhere. Had a dinner of mouth-watering ‘tapas’ and a local white wine. We plan to rise early enough to catch one of the beautiful soft red sunrises that certainly rival the brilliant lavender sunsets we’ve seen lately in which the very air you breathe seems to be infused with color. <br /> <br /> (Notes: In the next couple of weeks we moved to other locations but returned three times to this irresistible town to spend just a little more time here.)
  • FLAMINGOS moving along the lagoon at El Rocio, Spain, as they swing their sieve-like beaks through the shallow water straining for food as they do in the soft, rosy light of dawn, bright sun of midday and in the purple, hazy light of early evening. A constantly moving feast for them and for OUR eyes . . .
  • SUNSET AFTER A STORM,<br /> ITALY (Ligurean Sea)<br /> November 18 and 19, 1999 Picked up a large packet of clothing from the lavanderia (Note: the ones that were later stolen in El Saler, Spain) and set out for our next reserve, the Parco Nacionale de Maremma where we found amongst the meadows and creeks many Lapwings, Curlews, Collared Crows, Goldfinches, Cattle Egrets, a Ballfinch and a Kingfisher and two deer to photograph. Checked into an albergo, the Hotel La Siesta, dropped off our luggage, nipped down the street for coffee (and somehow WON three big chocolates?) before driving to a market in Grossetto, which turned out to be large, crowded and with way too many one-way streets, as usual. Convinced we would never again find the albergo and our luggage, we were so impressed with ourselves when we made it back to La Siesta in the, by now, windy, stormy weather. Dinner of mussels, our favorite, which probably accounts for the rest of the evening (smile). We left the La Siesta in Respecia and made one more drive through Maremma refuge although it was very windy and freezing cold. Reluctantly, we drove on north from Maremma, on the coastline toward Livorno and stopped at a hotel-ristorante on a very high cliff just as the sun was making a spectacular, eye-piercing, red and gold descent into the Ligurean Sea through a bank of incoming heavy, black rain clouds. It was just beautiful and Virginia tried several shots from the cliff-top by our hotel as Robert booked us in. At dinner we ordered scampi which were, as usual, garlicky and delicious, grilled, huge and presented in the shell with head and legs all intact. That is a three-napkin feast and after dinner Virginia asked the waiter timidly if there was a ‘correct’ way to eat these critters and he promptly replied “Yes, Lady, not like you . . . “ and that was the extent of his advice! (And his tip!)
  • STORM OFFSHORE, ITALY<br /> November 20 and 21, 1999 We drove over the Cinque Terre, ancient olive groves (huge nets set to catch the olives as they drop from the trees) and some grape vineyards on near vertical farm terraces on the rugged mountainside, the road often only 10 feet wide, straight up on one side, and straight down a couple thousand feet on the other, truly a breath-taking, spectacular but often hair-raising drive. Then on the autostrada you really have to hand it to the Italian highway engineers: they produced a highway , here as in much of Italy in the mountains, straight and level as an arrow’s flight, linking bridges perched on piers hundreds of feet high across deep abysses to long, dripping tunnels through the mountainsides. Bridge, tunnel, bridge, tunnel . . . until we made it to the exit for Portofino where, after quite a few U-turns, we found room in the Hotel Stella where we were given a fifth-floor ’terrace-dorm’ (what is that??) “the only room available, # 54”, though there were only three cars at the hotel. Ahh, well, it’s warm and cozy in the ever more threatening weather out of doors tonight. We rose early, quite rested, to light snow and an all-day drive through driving rain and high winds, then heavy snow blowing sideways across the windshield driven by the high winds. Snow in Monte Carlo, for heaven’s sake! Afraid to go on but afraid to stop and glad we didn’t. Many cars, trucks and buses stuck in the mountains and piled up onto snow banks at the side of the highway. Pressed on through this freak snow storm and finally, in desperation, turning off to Marseille of all places, the size of city we always try to avoid. Found a room at Hotel Mascotti and had a picturesque but muted, misty view from our room of the old Port of Marseille area.<br /> <br /> Nov.22, 1999 Monday. Had a great breakfast but a terrible time getting our car out of the underground car-park under the merry-go-round across from the hotel. There was no snow in downtown Marseille though all the countryside around is under several inches of it as we head out for the Camargue.
  • AN EXPLOSION OF SNOW GEESE TAKING SUDDEN FLIGHT! Numerous blast-offs like this one happen all through the day, some triggered by the appearance of Bald Eagles or Golden Eagles flying overhead, or by the appearance of coyotes in the brush nearby; whatever it is, the signal seems to be instantly communicated amongst the birds and they rise as one, calling loudly!
  • SNOW GEESE RISING IN FIERY MORNING MIST<br /> Dec. 25th - Bosque – Up very early 4:45am after a night when we didn’t think we could leave our bed as our propane tank ran out of fuel and the trailer was VERY, VERY COLD. Glad we did, though, as our morning light was the best so far! There was fog and mist back-lit by a brilliant red and gold sunrise putting the ponds full of geese and cranes in almost fire-like light. <br /> <br /> Dec.28th – Bosque – The whole campground has been covered with several inches of ice for some time now. We have finally acquired the right size of snow chains for our Suburban so can try out a plan we’ve devised and that is to turn the trailer 180 degrees, quite literally by SLIDING it around on the ice to face the water lines from the shady side to the sunny side, to allow the sun to warm up the pump during the day so we can use our water and flush the toilets. Pretty scary, but it all worked out . . .
  • SNOW GEESE TAKING FLIGHT AT SUNRISE<br /> <br /> Dec 12th – Bosque – Still very cold. The campground’s water lines have frozen so our pump would not work until 5PM when the sun finally thawed it out. We had to use a jug of Gatorade to clear the toilet! <br /> <br /> Dec.19th – Bosque – This morning we had the largest “Fly-out” so far. It seems that the very instant the sun just peeks over the hills to the East the flocks of thousands of Snow Geese, that have all just been softly muttering to each other, are all triggered to rise simultaneously into the air from the ponds. The ‘take-off’ starts with an ear-splitting cacophony of loud calls that can be heard a mile away and a startling whoosh! of the wind created by the thousands of wing-beats can almost knock one over! It’s as though one is standing in a TUNNEL of SNOW GEESE - and then, as quickly and noisily as they rise, they are all overhead and flying off to the cornfields on the north side of the refuge with only a distant echo of their calls remaining.
  • SUNSET AT BOSQUE DEL APACHE<br /> Arrived back at Bosque Birdwatchers RV Park in San Antonio NM in time to set up the trailer and enjoy a drive around the refuge for several hours in beautiful post-storm light with snow covered mountains and cherry light all around. Over the years that we’ve been “on the road” we’ve spent many months including several Christmases here. It is a very special place for anyone but particularly for photographers because most folks agree the light here equals that of the legendary light of Provence and Van Gogh’s works. Whether soft pastels or brilliant corals and purples, the sunrises and sunsets are moving and magical.
  • BOSQUE DEL APACHE SUNRISE<br /> This year the count for the refuge is approximately 16,000 Sandhill Cranes, 20,000 Snow Geese, 40,000 ducks of various species and three Whooping Cranes! So, it's not difficult to find a subject, especially when you add a variety of hawks, eagles, owls, coyotes, bobcats, frogs, beavers, the occasional elk and dozens and dozens of other bird species and critters and, too, the air is clear, cold and clean (we're about a mile up), the sounds are intriguing and the light is as warm as a hug . . . What a life!
  • WALL TO WALL SNOW GEESE . . .<br /> and this is only a very small portion of geese in this particular flight! We will never understand how it can be that, although we have seen this event repeated hundreds of time, we have never seen even one collision between any of the Snow Geese (or any other similar flock of birds) in such a wingtip-to-wingtip throng in motion . . . (unlike, for instance, Oxford Street in London at lunch or quitting time, at the end of a soccer match in Glasgow or in the tunnels of the Coliseum after a football game in LA!) Truly, it boggles the mind . . . OR, are many muttering "Oops, 'scuse me! Oh, pardon me! Gosh, excuse me!" ? Perhaps we just can't hear it over the incredible racket . . .<br /> Once, a long time ago, we did see a pair of Common Mergansers take flight on a river when suddenly the male ran smack! head first into a little bridge! Aghast, we waited to see that he gathered himself together and was able to join his mate within a short while, thank heaven! So, over the years, we've seen small mis-steps in judgment by animals (rocks that wobble too much, branches that are too fragile to withstand a bird landing, porcupines (notoriously clumsy animals) that just slip and fall, but never a collision amongst these crowds of geese. Go figure!
  • THE DOG ATE THE GOURMET DINNER
  • THE BEAR ADDED INSULT TO INJURY . . .
  • DR JACK AND THE BEAR SPRAY
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