Readytoride
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Virginia
The Photoshoot
I stared at the email the former API photographer had just sent me that evening. I had been trying to evade him for weeks with this shoot he wanted, but he was relentless in his quest. He had photographed me before driving one of my ponies (one of those photos ended up on a magazine cover) but I kept hoping he'd find some other project. But noooo - he was fixated until he finally wore me down to agreeing to let him photograph me on my bike. But now, confronting the day in question ..was he serious about the time he wanted to meet? 7:30am? Really?? Yes. Yes, he was.
"I'm going to be out at sun up to shoot some b-roll" his email said, "and can meet up with you later in the morning. I still want that early angular light. I'm thinking 7:30ish if you can make that happen."
And that is why at 7:30 in the morning, an ungodly time by any civilized means, a time when I would still be luxurating in a warm cozy bed nowhere near contemplating rising, and still no clue what a "b-roll" was, that I was on my bike in the chill of the just risen sun, pedaling quietly and slowly into the countryside and into the camera lens. For the next 8 miles the photographer - who had arrived at my farm quite giddy with excitment over getting some brilliant pre-morning shots of a few local fog laden ponds (what time had this guy gotten up? 3am??) - and I played leapfrog, him getting his shots of me while I cycled along at a languid pace, picking up litter for my former-kiddie-now-litter-cart agreeably holding the orange litter bag while happily being towed along in my bike's wake.
For 8 miles he would race ahead of me, setting up his cameras, framing his shots. Shots mid-range, up high, to the side, front, back, and once at ground level with the camera sitting on the gravel road. I would cycle past and keep going, the camera shooting my retreat into the deep greens of late Spring along the gravel roads. At one point when he was driving behind me I glanced over my shoulder to see his camera being held on his roof out the driver door to capture video as I biked in front. Then he was off in a rush to set up his next shots further down the road. Again, and again, and again. For 8 miles.
For 8 miles I had to repeat the mantra "shoulders back, head UP, smile". The shoulders back/head up was a struggle, but the smiling came easy because...I hate to admit after my grousing at getting up at the butt crack of dawn ...the day was stunning. The gravel roads were both familiar and lovely, and the trash almost non-existant with just a few pieces for some decent litter pickup moments for the camera. A few construction trucks passed enroute, sharing good-morning waves, as did a large schoolbus rumbling on its way to pick up sleepy eyed kids and deliver them to school in time for the morning bell. I snugged the bike and trailer to the side of the road to let the lumbering equipment pass, and then after a friendly wave to the operators I would wait for them to relinquish the road before remounting my bike to continue the shoot.
At one point midway a bevy of 6 horses came into view, 2 ridden the rest led in hand, casually walking along. I called out to make sure the horses were OK with my bike, and upon the rider's reassurance that I was fine, the photographer had me stage in his line of sight to take us all into view. He recognized the lead rider as they came close enough for us all to exchange greetings. He told me afterwards, as he was showing me the video clip he had taken of them passing, how the lead rider, a staff member of the local foxhunt, had just recently been in the hospital for a bad fall she'd taken a few months prior. As he described a litany of her injuries - broken ribs, broken clavical, broken arm, punctured lung, plus a few more injuries my brain blocked out in horror - despite the fact that she had gotten up from her fall, blood coming out of every orifice of her face much to the angst of the huntsman who told her to lie down on the ground and stay there until the ambulance came - I blanched, threw up my arm to block any further words from hitting my ears, and said I'd heard enough. He and I both watched over our shoulders as the riders retreated down the road, their happy chatter fading slowly away with the distance, their passage left in a muddle of hoofprints on the soft, rainsoaked gravel.
Just ahead of us, beyond a bend, the gravel road became too narrow and too twisty for any good shots. I took off, riding ahead of the photographer as the road plunged downhill at a steep angle to cross a narrow century old concrete bridge spanning a madly rushing stream foaming muddy brown and boiling over its banks with the downpours of two days straight of rain. The narrow road then leaped straight up the following hill and it wasn't until the road shook off the incline and widened out across a flat, lovely pastoral scene that I let the photographer go past for some of his final shots.
At the end of 8 miles we stopped, he thanked me profusely, said he got some excellent photos and video, and arranged for me to come to the studio later this week to do an interview and voiceover audio. We said our goodbyes, and he drove off down the road, one hand out the window waving as his car disappeared out of view.
It was now almost 2 hours later into the morning. The day had warmed up, the sun was bright, the skies were a crystal blue, and the roads beckoned. I took their invitation to heart and biked a further 5 miles, simply enjoying the day. Plus snagging any litter that happened to be marring the perfection of the landscape. The rest of the morning was mine to enjoy solo in peace.
When I finally rolled into my driveway at 11, with a half bag of litter picked up, 13 miles on the GPS, warm and happy with a smile on my face, I decided that 7:30 am hadn't been all that bad to start a bike ride. 9am would have been better but...hey. Nothing beats that early morning light.
Today I'll stay in bed until noon. Just 'cuz.
PS - Since I had no photos of yesterday, here are two of his photos from a photoshoot he did with me in the Fall of 2018. It was the second one that ended up as a magazine cover. I'll share one or two from yesterday once I get something.
I stared at the email the former API photographer had just sent me that evening. I had been trying to evade him for weeks with this shoot he wanted, but he was relentless in his quest. He had photographed me before driving one of my ponies (one of those photos ended up on a magazine cover) but I kept hoping he'd find some other project. But noooo - he was fixated until he finally wore me down to agreeing to let him photograph me on my bike. But now, confronting the day in question ..was he serious about the time he wanted to meet? 7:30am? Really?? Yes. Yes, he was.
"I'm going to be out at sun up to shoot some b-roll" his email said, "and can meet up with you later in the morning. I still want that early angular light. I'm thinking 7:30ish if you can make that happen."
And that is why at 7:30 in the morning, an ungodly time by any civilized means, a time when I would still be luxurating in a warm cozy bed nowhere near contemplating rising, and still no clue what a "b-roll" was, that I was on my bike in the chill of the just risen sun, pedaling quietly and slowly into the countryside and into the camera lens. For the next 8 miles the photographer - who had arrived at my farm quite giddy with excitment over getting some brilliant pre-morning shots of a few local fog laden ponds (what time had this guy gotten up? 3am??) - and I played leapfrog, him getting his shots of me while I cycled along at a languid pace, picking up litter for my former-kiddie-now-litter-cart agreeably holding the orange litter bag while happily being towed along in my bike's wake.
For 8 miles he would race ahead of me, setting up his cameras, framing his shots. Shots mid-range, up high, to the side, front, back, and once at ground level with the camera sitting on the gravel road. I would cycle past and keep going, the camera shooting my retreat into the deep greens of late Spring along the gravel roads. At one point when he was driving behind me I glanced over my shoulder to see his camera being held on his roof out the driver door to capture video as I biked in front. Then he was off in a rush to set up his next shots further down the road. Again, and again, and again. For 8 miles.
For 8 miles I had to repeat the mantra "shoulders back, head UP, smile". The shoulders back/head up was a struggle, but the smiling came easy because...I hate to admit after my grousing at getting up at the butt crack of dawn ...the day was stunning. The gravel roads were both familiar and lovely, and the trash almost non-existant with just a few pieces for some decent litter pickup moments for the camera. A few construction trucks passed enroute, sharing good-morning waves, as did a large schoolbus rumbling on its way to pick up sleepy eyed kids and deliver them to school in time for the morning bell. I snugged the bike and trailer to the side of the road to let the lumbering equipment pass, and then after a friendly wave to the operators I would wait for them to relinquish the road before remounting my bike to continue the shoot.
At one point midway a bevy of 6 horses came into view, 2 ridden the rest led in hand, casually walking along. I called out to make sure the horses were OK with my bike, and upon the rider's reassurance that I was fine, the photographer had me stage in his line of sight to take us all into view. He recognized the lead rider as they came close enough for us all to exchange greetings. He told me afterwards, as he was showing me the video clip he had taken of them passing, how the lead rider, a staff member of the local foxhunt, had just recently been in the hospital for a bad fall she'd taken a few months prior. As he described a litany of her injuries - broken ribs, broken clavical, broken arm, punctured lung, plus a few more injuries my brain blocked out in horror - despite the fact that she had gotten up from her fall, blood coming out of every orifice of her face much to the angst of the huntsman who told her to lie down on the ground and stay there until the ambulance came - I blanched, threw up my arm to block any further words from hitting my ears, and said I'd heard enough. He and I both watched over our shoulders as the riders retreated down the road, their happy chatter fading slowly away with the distance, their passage left in a muddle of hoofprints on the soft, rainsoaked gravel.
Just ahead of us, beyond a bend, the gravel road became too narrow and too twisty for any good shots. I took off, riding ahead of the photographer as the road plunged downhill at a steep angle to cross a narrow century old concrete bridge spanning a madly rushing stream foaming muddy brown and boiling over its banks with the downpours of two days straight of rain. The narrow road then leaped straight up the following hill and it wasn't until the road shook off the incline and widened out across a flat, lovely pastoral scene that I let the photographer go past for some of his final shots.
At the end of 8 miles we stopped, he thanked me profusely, said he got some excellent photos and video, and arranged for me to come to the studio later this week to do an interview and voiceover audio. We said our goodbyes, and he drove off down the road, one hand out the window waving as his car disappeared out of view.
It was now almost 2 hours later into the morning. The day had warmed up, the sun was bright, the skies were a crystal blue, and the roads beckoned. I took their invitation to heart and biked a further 5 miles, simply enjoying the day. Plus snagging any litter that happened to be marring the perfection of the landscape. The rest of the morning was mine to enjoy solo in peace.
When I finally rolled into my driveway at 11, with a half bag of litter picked up, 13 miles on the GPS, warm and happy with a smile on my face, I decided that 7:30 am hadn't been all that bad to start a bike ride. 9am would have been better but...hey. Nothing beats that early morning light.
Today I'll stay in bed until noon. Just 'cuz.
PS - Since I had no photos of yesterday, here are two of his photos from a photoshoot he did with me in the Fall of 2018. It was the second one that ended up as a magazine cover. I'll share one or two from yesterday once I get something.
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6.6 km from my new flat in a village familiar to me from my e-bike trips.
