abraxas
No longer a newbie, moving up!
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The dual peaks of Mt. San Antonio, A.K.A. Mt. Baldy (upper center right). The Devil's Backbone runs between the two peaks. In the high wind hikers have been been blown off the icy and narrow trail to their deaths more than 1,000 feet nearly straight down. Iron Mountain is the lone peak at the end of the ridge that runs up from the right to left through the middle of the shot.
I grew up in the valley on the other side of this range, 14 miles from the mountain tops seen here. I was only 9 when we moved to the then-little town from the green rolling hill farmlands of western Iowa.
We moved to a house with the biggest picture window. The window perfectly framed this beautiful, wonderful looking mountain. I'd sit looking the window examining the ragged ridges, tracing a jagged trail with my finger finding the best way to climb the mountain. I wondered what could be on the other side.
We lived 30 miles from Hollywood. This was fascinating to me when I was young. I was interested in the technical aspects of movie-making. I'd seen pictures of sets and backdrops and cameras and grip. I thought maybe the mountains were just a back drop(?)- giant sheets of plywood propped up by 2x4 pieces of lumber. Sheesh, kids can think of the wierdest things.
So I found out that beyond the mountains were more mountains, a desert, and so on and so forth. I forgot about my little imaginings and got on with life and made countless visits to the southern trails and canyons over the years since. My interests took me in a different direction than movies and filming, however, eventually I ended up working in those mountains with a camera.
A few years ago I was standing in this same spot taking pretty much the same photo for a project I was working on. Out of the blue, for some unknown reason, I thought of my childhood fantasy of the plywood and painted backdrop. I smiled as I looked through the view finder and snapped the picture. I remember thinking, "It's not what I thought it was."
I grew up in the valley on the other side of this range, 14 miles from the mountain tops seen here. I was only 9 when we moved to the then-little town from the green rolling hill farmlands of western Iowa.
We moved to a house with the biggest picture window. The window perfectly framed this beautiful, wonderful looking mountain. I'd sit looking the window examining the ragged ridges, tracing a jagged trail with my finger finding the best way to climb the mountain. I wondered what could be on the other side.
We lived 30 miles from Hollywood. This was fascinating to me when I was young. I was interested in the technical aspects of movie-making. I'd seen pictures of sets and backdrops and cameras and grip. I thought maybe the mountains were just a back drop(?)- giant sheets of plywood propped up by 2x4 pieces of lumber. Sheesh, kids can think of the wierdest things.
So I found out that beyond the mountains were more mountains, a desert, and so on and so forth. I forgot about my little imaginings and got on with life and made countless visits to the southern trails and canyons over the years since. My interests took me in a different direction than movies and filming, however, eventually I ended up working in those mountains with a camera.
A few years ago I was standing in this same spot taking pretty much the same photo for a project I was working on. Out of the blue, for some unknown reason, I thought of my childhood fantasy of the plywood and painted backdrop. I smiled as I looked through the view finder and snapped the picture. I remember thinking, "It's not what I thought it was."
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