Severe Jam Damage

For those who aren’t aware I’ve turned my other blog over at Elimare into a crafty \ baking blog. This is now the third incarnation of that blog as the second attempt at renewing it ended up with all of one blog post - about 3 years ago. Yeah, well done me. I’ll be keeping Severe Jam Damage for photography and personal type stuff.
Maybe one of these days I’ll get my own domain and organise everything, then again maybe not.

I heard this question so often while I was travelling, from friends, from taxi drivers, from random people in bars - and it’s part of the reason that I *was* travelling, taking a break from the rat race and trying to figure out what it is I do. But ‘what do you do’ as a question is so limiting, as if your job is how you are defined. Because that’s what people mean when they ask it.

‘I work in IT’
‘I travel around America and take pictures’
‘Right now, I drink this beer’

Most often my response was ‘I’m taking a break from working in software’ but even that sounded wrong. After 3 months away from the coal face I’ve realised the question isn’t ‘what do you do?’
It’s ‘What do you do next?’

Photo taken on the I-290 in Chicagoland. View On Black

5000+ photos and a notebook full of notes - here I am back in my little home in Dublin after 3 months travelling and I’m only just getting around to reviewing and editing everything. But first a great big thank you to everyone I couchsurfed \ met \ had a beer with.

Winnipeg: The Architect, Miss H and the young misses S and A - always a great time relaxing, drinking beer and generally just hanging out with you. Hoping to see you more than once every couple of years, say hello to ghostly Margaret for me.

Chicago: Brian - So nice to be on the opposite side, ie. the Visitor. To beer, flaming cheese, NOT going to Navy Pier and long chats about mid-life crisis’.

Colorado: Baz, Megan the young Mr. C and Miss R - Baz twas far too long since we’ve seen each other. So great to meet everyone. Lovely walks despite the altitude and let’s not forget exposing me to ‘Lexx’. Keep up the photography. Here’s to 2011 and hoping its better for everyone!

Modesto: Sarah and Rob - So so lovely to meet the two of you. To late night taco-trucks, Rock Star set to ‘Expert’ and good laughs. Now you have to come over and meet the rest of the gang.

Palo Alto: Mike, Rois and the young Mr. M - Hey DUDEs, best of luck over the next couple of years. Great to have spent time with you. To glow in the dark octopusses (octopi?), giant crabs and early morning flights out of SFO. Hope the move goes well for you!

Santa Fe: David, Marci and young Miss F - May all your Thanksgivings be as fun (Too much food!!) Hope all goes well with the new ventures and yes, I’ll be sure to meet up next time you’re in Dublin.

New Orleans: Brittany and Nathan - Thank you so much for putting me up, getting me back onto a bike, drinking beers at 10am, showing me the real city. Eddie K-Doe forever! love NOLA, love you!

And to all the bar flies, bar staff, taxi drivers, random Amtrak passengers and folks in coffee shops I met along the way. So many odd, friendly and simply insane characters.

Plus a shoutout to the TSA staff in SFO for that lovely grope first thing in the morning.

I’m a lot behind on my blog posts here but I just want to take a moment to comment on the photography side of things. I’ve been shooting in manual mode on the D80, I find I’ve got more control of the resulting captures.
I’m currently in Colorado ‘Big Sky’ country and wow the skies here are as amazing as you’d think. With shooting in manual I’m also underexposing to get the most colour out of the glorious blue skies here.
The photo above isn’t a great example but its straight out of the camera and I haven’t done any post processing. It was taken at about 8am in the Colorado paint mines.

‘What’s that guy doing down there?’
‘Huh?’
‘That bloke he’s cleaning out his car.’
A shrug ‘Dunno’
‘Kind of a weird, empty spot to stop on a Sunday morning?’
‘Well, we’re here’
‘Yeah, with our cameras.’
‘He’s cleaning out the back seat, and now he’s going to the boot’
‘Maybe he killed someone’
‘You think?’
‘I was KIDDING’
‘No, but look, he’s parked up in an empty part of town, with a black car and wearing all black clothes and he’s spent about 15 minutes now cleaning out the back seat and the windows.’
‘Maybe he blew someone’s head off and needs to clean the brains off the back.’
‘Oh god, maybe?’
‘Well if that’s what he did and he looks up and spots you with a camera staring down at him I don’t fancy your chances for the rest of the weekend.’
‘Now he’s walking away!’
‘eh?’
‘He’s just locked up the car, threw something in the river and is walking briskly away.’
‘Dude, he’s chasing his DOG. The damn thing probably threw up in the back seat and he’s cleaning it up.’
‘Bah, you’re no fun.’

There is something about meeting up with old friends and the sheer comfort of falling back into old patterns. Miss H and I lived together in Dublin for a couple of years and the The Architect and I spent a lot of time in pubs with other crazies of the Celtic Tiger scrawling ideas on the back of beer mats. Miss H and the Architect met when I introduced them one St. Patricks evening in a shitty bar in Dublin.

So when I went to visit them in Winnipeg and their 2 adorably crazy and highly photogenic daughters it was easy to fall back into the old routine of comfortable silences and moving around each other without intruding on the others space. All this punctuated by morning coffee runs, afternoon pints, lovely food cooked by Miss H and shouting at crappy television while knocking back red wine.

It was, as the Architect said ‘Just like old times, except with miniature people running about.’ And by that he meant his daughters, not me.

‘Are you a professional photographer?’ He’s just come from the lower river path, staggering a bit but his words aren’t terribly slurred.
‘No, no.’ I sling the camera over my shoulder.
‘Doing a course?’
‘No, it’s just a hobby’ I smile, spread hands. Nothing to see here, move along now.
He cocks a head, ‘Where you from?’
‘Ireland’
‘Oh, that’s cool. Why are you here?’
‘Visiting friends.’
‘How did you hear about Winnipeg?’
‘My friends living here…’ I mumble and trail off, busy myself with camera buttons.
‘I’m from Ontario myself’
‘Oh’ I say because, well what else is there.
‘It’s a 2 hour drive’ he’s talking slower and making steering wheel motions with his hands. Apparently being from another country equates with not speaking english and \ or deafness.
‘You should go - it’s a beautiful place.’
‘Mmm’ I nod and smile.
‘Do your friends’ pointing at me ‘have a car?’ more steering wheel motions.
‘Uhm, yes’
‘There’s a place on the border called Keh-No-Rah’ each syllable sounded out slowly.
‘If you get your friends to drive you there is a place called Rushing River Provincial Park’ More driving pantomime.
‘If you go to the Lower Rapids Walk’ I can hear the capitalization of his words. Then he turns his back to me and continues with his steering wheel motions.
‘If you drive THROUGH Kenora and the car park for the park is on THIS side’ Wide swinging arms to his right.
‘There’s a beautiful waterfall you’ll get some lovely shots there.’
‘Thanks, thanks for the tip’ I smile and move away.
‘No problem’ he shouts after me.

Ahh, Canada. Even the junkies are polite.

There’s a rowdy chick sitting beside me at the football game.
‘Hit ‘im!!’
‘Sack ‘im!’
‘Take him down!!’

I only know to cheer when the guys in golden pants have the ball. Apparently it’s a good thing. When the guys in orange pants have the ball the crowd goes mad, whacking the back of the seats with their hands so the ‘quarterback can’t hear the plays in his ear piece.’ I get confused when the crowd starts booing the guys in golden pants. ‘You Suck!’ screaming at the quarterback. ‘We want Jyles’ I think the rowdy chick has broken her hand on the metal seat.
‘Fans get very touchy about the game’ she says. ‘Fans do?’ sez I, but she doesn’t hear me, is back screaming at the ref and booing the quarterback.

Eventually there is some sort of changeover the sainted ‘Jyles’ has been put on the field. I spend most of the next 2 quarters trying to figure out which team has the ball at any given time.

Five seconds to go 29 to 32 - this last goal kick \ field goal ? will tie the teams and bring it into extra time. The rowdy chick has her head in her hands ‘I can’t watch’ she moans. Her husband is made of sterner stuff.

The kick is good - at least it goes through the upright posts, which means we’re tied now. The crowd goes wild, and stays wild for the 15 minutes it takes for the guys in golden pants to win.

I follow the rowdy chick, her husband and father out of the stadium, deafened, tired and sunburned.

‘They won’t let you on the plane with all your camera gear y’know.’

Har, har, har.

As you can see I’ve stripped down my kit to the bare essentials:
- The D90 plus go-everywhere 18-250 lens, (in bag) and 30mm prime lens (in cover)
- The Holga with ringflash
- Netbook (in bag)
- Spare 250GB drive
- card reader

The rest of it is batteries and chargers.
Oh, and there are 19 rolls of film in the suitcase for the Holga.

I hate packing - it’s the one part of this whole trip that I wasn’t looking forward to (we’ll talk about my fear of flying later) - I always tend to overpack. Sun holidays I invariably pack 5 pairs of shorts and end up living in one pair and a bathing suit. It always happens, so this time I determined I was not going to overpack again. I can’t afford it really, I’ll be schlepping around the states on planes, trains and various public transport so I’ve had to seriously think about what to pack. I also started reading the No Baggage Challenge - in which Rolf Potts is travelling around the world with nothing except the stuff he can cram into his travel vest.

I’ve got a mid-size wheelie case (my back isn’t strong enough to be hefting rucksacks ‘more strength in a fizz bag’ as my dad says) and I *think* I’ve packed everything I’m going to need for October in the mid-west and November in California, New Mexico and Texas:

4 skirts
2 dresses
3 ‘nice’ tops
2 pairs jeans
1 pair cargo pants
4 pairs of leggings
5 t-shirts
5 long-sleeved t-shirts
Tights, socks, pyjamas and underwear

The biggest problem has been shoes - hey I’m a girl ok? Knee boots for the flight, hiking shoes for walking, pumps for nights out and a pair of slip ons in case the weather is good and I can go bare-legged. Yeah, it’s the shoes that are taking up most of the space… don’t get me started on camera gear, I’m saving that for another blog entry.