For a while I have wanted to do a shoot with Broderick, and finally our schedules aligned. I had scouted out this location a while back and knew exactly what I wanted. Because the short notice of the shoot I wasn’t able to get an assistant, but I was wanting to do a much more natural light looking shoot this time anyway. It always helps to have another set of hands though, but I’m used to working on my own. I guess sometimes when I have help I’m not the greatest at delegating tasks to others.

Click here to see more photos from the shoot! 

We started shooting sometime between 4:30 and 5, just about perfect like for this time of year. The dried grass, the fall leaves, and the warm light really gave the feel of what I was wanting.

I love shooting into the sun. Gives a great quality to the photograph, almost dream like. 

Broderick was a great model, running back and forth repeatedly so I get could all of the shots that I imagined. 

I added a single speedlite on a tripod opposite the sun to fill in the shadow side. Since I wanted to be shooting at shutter speeds fast enough to stop the action my only choice was to use High-Speed Sync.


At 1/200th of a second, the flash sync speed of the Canon 5DMkII, you will have a significant amount of blur if your subject is moving at any speed at all. I was finding blur even up through 1/500th of a second. At 1/800th Broderick was sharp enough. 


 I cannot do High-Speed Sync through my CyberSync radio slaves, so I had to use my 580 EX II as a master and my 430 EX II as the slave (limiting me to one usable off-camera flash). I set my 580 to not fire, only to set off the 430. You have to make sure the Infrared Receiver on the slave unit is not pointed at the sun or it will not detect the signal from the master. There are ways to help it avoid the sun, like using gaffer’s tape to make a shield, but I, of course, had none. 

Just as I was packing up because the sun was too low, I saw this opportunity. I set the flash almost directly in front of Broderick to fill in his front. With the shutter speed of 1/100th, I panned with him as he ran past to give the background some good motion blur. Besides some running technique that a few people have mentioned, this was exactly the shot I was looking for. That’s all you can ask for in a shoot.

Broderick stretching after his “strenuous” run.


It’s been great shooting this fall. I’ve got a lot more to edit and show, and I need to update my website pretty bad. But these frequent photo shoots are keeping my heart happy.  

Exciting news. I recently had a photo from the 2011 Wenger Patagonian Expedition Race featured in the November/December issue of National Geographic Traveller (UK). Sadly, it’s not available in the US, but they sent me a couple of copies for my records. I’m elated to have my photo published in the National Geographic family of publications. 

Running with D. Scott Clark from Christopher Whonsetler on Vimeo.

I feel that saying that it has been too long since I posted is getting cliché. Working a full time, 40 hrs a week job and trying to keep up with all the other activities that I do makes it difficult to update this thing. I am definitely thankful for my temporary job with a government contractor, but I will be thrilled when it is over at the end of this month. I’m prepping to move out to Colorado, and getting nervous about it. I know it’s the right move for my career though.

A couple of weeks ago I was able to throw together a shoot with two long distance runners (Both of them just ran the Chicago Marathon yesterday). This shoot came about through the extremities of my network. I’d been trying to put together a running shoot for a while.

Click the HERE to continue reading and to see the rest of the images. 

I spent all day Saturday scouting locations, and finally came across the right place. Sunday morning before dawn I met the runners, Amy and Jennifer, in the parking lot; my first time meeting both of them. My friend and fellow photographer Chris Whonsetler met me to help out and to do some behind the scenes video (which hopefully will come out eventually). I gratefully had two more people helping me with lighting as well. (I’m so used to doing everything myself. It’s great having assistants, but I need to learn to delegate better).

As the sun started to nip the tops of the trees we started shooting. I knew I was going to need to do multiple exposures to light the background because the sun still was not yet filtering through the trees, and I was using multiple strobes to light the scene. I shot my White Lightning X3200 monolight through my 36″ brolly box (a cheap alternative to a soft box) and used two speedlites for additional light. The brolly box gives a nice large soft light, as opposed to the speedlites’ harsh light. I also brought along my new Yongnou YN560 flash, which for around $70 is an awesome piece of photo equipment. I will do a review soon.

Using strobes for action photography gives some unique challenges. My camera, the Canon 5D Mark II, only syncs flash up to 1/200th of a second. Any faster than that and the shutter closes before the flash has lit the entire scene, causing part or the entire image to remain dark. Action shot at 1/200th of a second will result in blurry subjects. For a runner you would need to shoot at 1/500th or faster to completely freeze them. There are a few different solutions to this problem.

One is using the Canon High Speed Sync built into the Speedlites and wirelessly tripping the strobes via the Infrared signal. Advantages are that ability to use High Speed Sync as well as E-TTL metering (meaning the camera determines the correct output for the flash). Disadvantages: you lose a flash as one has to be on the camera, acting as the master and sending the signal to the other flash (or flashes). Also, Speedlites have a very hard time overpowering the sunlight, and shooting in High Speed Sync you lose power from the flashes.

A better solution is using the PocketWizards FlexTT5 system that allows for high speed sync but is not limited by line-of-sight problems of infrared. But you still do not have enough power to really overcome the sun. Big negative is the price. To get the setup I need I’ll spend roughly $660 for a two flash set up.

The method I used was to shoot dark, underexposing the background. The flash duration is so short it will stop almost any type of action; the problem lies with the ambient light catching the blur. So if you cut out the ambient light and only use the flash to light the scene the subject will be sharp. I then take other exposures with the ambient light correctly exposed and blend the shots together in post.

One thing to think about for the future is whether or not the property you are shooting on is private or public. Some private properties require you to purchase photography permits. After the first couple of locations a police officer on a golf cart rolled up and asked us if we had a permit to shoot on this property. Since I was shooting with professional equipment I needed to have a permit. But the officer gracefully let me continue when I promised that this was only for my portfolio and I would not be making any money off of these photos. He told me to get a permit next time. I am very thankful he allowed me to continue; the shoot would have been much much shorter and less productive.

I was finished, done with everything I wanted to do. I had everything packed up and we were heading back to the vehicles. But we reached this spot and the light was too perfect. I’m so glad that I stopped. I love the simplicity of shooting all natural in amazing ambient light.

Thank you so much to Jennifer and Amy for their patience and willingness to try whatever I suggested, as well as my assistants, Chris, Poe, and Ian. I am looking forward to doing much more of these types of shoots. 

It has been forever. Sorry guys, this last month has been busy. It seems that after a slow summer a lot of things are happening now. Fall has always been my favorite season. The temperature is getting cooler, and I feel like breaking out of the funk.

A couple of weeks ago my friend Gillian Grassie came to visit. She’s a singer/songwriter/harpist that I met in Mumbai in 2009. She was travelling around the world studying the impact of technology in different music culture on the Watson Fellowship. She travelled with a full size celtic harp. I thought it was tough for me to travel with all my photo gear! After a broken harp case, getting robbed in Russia, and leaving her harp with friend’s in Germany, she made it back to the States a year later. You should check out her music at www.gilliangrassie.com. She’s recording a new album this winter, so be sure to check her out.

Gillian came to play a show in Bloomington as part of a short tour including Illinois, Minnesota, and Canada. I suggested that we throw together a shoot before her show, and she happily agreed.  We went to a factory I’d always been interested in exploring. It turned out to be a great location and exactly what I was looking for.

Since the shoot came about last minute I didn’t have time to find an assistant. I ended up shooting the whole thing with two flashes, and I was the second light stand. I would set up the shot, fix the focus, press the shutter with the camera set to 10 second timer, then run around like a madman after each shot to light something different. It was a fun experiment in seeing what I could achieve in a short amount of time by myself, but I would highly recommend using an assistant. Would make the job mucho más fácil. But it allowed me to put together this fun behind the scenes shot. 

I’ve got a lot of shoots I need to do this fall. I’m looking for athletes to photograph: runners, yoga, kayakers, sailers, wake boarders, mountain bikers and parkour. Well, basically any outdoor sports. If you have any suggestions for athletes, please let me know. Thanks!

I’m currently putting a portfolio together to show at the Outdoor Retailer Tradeshow and PDN’s Outdoor Photography Photography Expo next week in Salt Lake City. While digging through new and old shoots I came across one of my favorite shoots from last year in a skate park in Indianapolis. I just felt like re-sharing a couple portraits.

I know I’ve posted this photo before, but I was looking at it at 100% and wanted to share. The athletes in the Wenger Patagonian Expedition Race endured unthinkable hardships to complete the race. On the biking section the first day of the race they faced gusts up wind up to 70mph that pelted them with rocks and debris and threatened to carry their bikes away. In the clost up photo you can see the rocks flying through the air. That’s full size gravel, not just small pebbles. I was also getting pelted in the back of the head while capturing this. Ahh, I can’t wait for next year!

*note: This blog post has six segments. At the end of each page, click “older posts” or the orange link “THE STORY CONTINUES WITH MORE PHOTOGRAPHS IN THE NEXT POST.”

Teams portage over a falls in the kayaking section on the first day of the 2011 Wenger Patagonian Expedition Race.

Race Day 02. Wednesday February 9th

I wake up, miraculously on my own, at 5:30 and get the others up, ready to go. The light slowly illuminates more of the surrounding mountains, but the jungle is still very dark. I had illusions of keeping my feet dry for at least some period of time, but as soon as we leave camp our feet sink into the turba.

Turba, I had the pleasure of finding out, is a multicolored sponge-like substance that blankets all of the ground in this area of Patagonia. It comes in just about every imaginable color, but I saw mostly yellows and reds. You could step on it and sink three inches or up to your waist. It is fully impossible to keep your feet dry while walking through turba. In the higher elevations it is still present, but much more pleasurable to walk on, as it doesn’t sink in to your knee with every step.

Don’t stop here. More photos and story after the Jump>>

Tony Hoare standing in the field of turba, lucky enough to find a semi-solid place to stand.

Tony Hoare and Yosuke Kashiwakura head towards PC3 from PC4.

Ignacio, our guide, was told to follow the river till we reached the lake. He kept the river twenty meters to our left the whole time, as we bushwhacked through the dense jungle. Only later did we find out that beside the river was much easier walking. The sun’s orange glow reflects off the snow peaks surrounding us as we cross a waist deep river that empties into the large glacier-melt lake. We climb a twenty-foot bank to reach a large plateau that reaches to the base of the mountains. From the distance it looks like a solid plain, but you must watch your every step because stepping into a “puddle” would leave you up to your chest in water, mud, and turba. As the elevation increases, the ground grows more solid. The pace quickens, and we rush over the rocky ridges. Besides the turba, there’s a thick, holly-like bush that we’re constantly pulling ourselves through. At certain points, instead of climbing down small cliffs, I find it easier to jump off and land on the bushes (giggling the whole way).

In the distance we see a team approaching. The Brits are cruising, even after a sleepless night of bushwhacking through stupidly dense jungle. Bruce Duncan took a tree branch to the mouth sometime during the night that left his lip very swollen and bloody. But just as fast as they came, they disappeared behind us, flying through the first 70 some kilometer trekking section.

Bruce Duncan’s battle wound.

Adidas TERREX / Prunesco keep keeping on towards PC4

We misinterpret the map and the advice that Ignacio received as a “shortcut” and wind up too far up on the wrong side of a river. Finding a relatively easy place to cross with tree supports, the icy cold water only comes to our waists once again.

Perdido en el Turbal (Lost in the turba), a team of mostly Americans, appears as we come to the top of the next ridge and let us know we are a kilometer or two from checkpoint three. Tony, Yosuke and I head off in the direction they pointed.

Tim Kuenster (US, Perdido en el Turbal) on the way to PC4

Small ponds lie between the hills full of turba, which makes marshes of the surrounding areas. We reach a rocky riverbed that makes for easier walking but need to get over the next ridge. I pick a route to the top, using roots to pull my way up. The apex of the ridge is easy walking through an open wood till we come to a point that drops off on three sides. From here we can see the lake, and through the brush we can make out the checkpoint; we’ve gone past it. Going down over the bushes is much easier; gravity is on our side.

The blue icebergs float on the cloudy water in the midday sun. Teams fight their way through the impossibly thick brush that lines the lake, relieved to take a break on the rocky shore, and they take their wet shoes off to reveal feet wrinkled from being constantly soaked for the last twenty-four hours. The teams have bushwhacked through demanding terrain through the night, barely stopping to rest. But some of the teams look pretty haggard after only the first day; if they are to finish the race they have at least six more days to go.



Noel Duffy (Australia, Dancing Pandas) at PC3

Peter Spagnoli (US, Dancing Pandas) takes a breather before leaving PC3

Kay Waki (Japan, East Wind) holds herself together continues trekking despite having a broken rib.

Dancing Pandas leave PC3

Feet take the brunt of the wear

The checkpoint manager offers me trailmix for lunch that barely satisfies my hunger. But with the last teams are passing through, after a short rest Tony and I head back into the jungle to try to catch up with some teams. Because we did not get to PC3 until noon we will not have time to reach PC5 or PC6 without the risk of falling behind all of the teams. We were told there would be a boat coming at four P.M. that we could take, and we could jump ahead to PC7.

I watch a team take a route up to the ridge that seemed to be in a better direction than the one we came from, so I decide to follow. But once Tony and I get beyond the clearing we come to wall of the prickly bushes. Either we go back and find a new route, or we go up and over. We start pushing through, but soon find ourselves “swimming” over the bushes: our feet not touching the ground, pulling ourselves hand-over-hand, trying to reach the top of the ridge. After an hour we finally break through to the open turba fields. I discover the jungle has stolen several things from my backpack: one glove, one Keen shoe, a Wenger Swiss Army knife, a LightMyFire SpoonForkKnife, numerous plastic Ziplock bags, and a 77mm lens cap.

Team Todo Aventura – La Segunda, from Chile and Argentine, cross through a field of dense brush in the valley below our vantage point and enters another thick forest that delays them several hours. The Croatians unknowingly take advantage of the Chileans mistake and pick a route through the hills with more solid ground, trekking at a quick click. Tony and I leap frog this team till they reach a dangerous river crossing.

Ad Natura – Karibu

Somehow, in a second my head is turned, team captain Elvir Sulic is standing on a boulder in the middle of the river, completely dry. He somehow jumped the large distance from the riverbank to the rock. Dario Rocco jumps but slips off the rock and goes waist deep in the rushing water. The Elvir grabs hold, keeping Dario from going under. He regains his footing and pulls himself onto the large rock. The female team member, Darija Boostjancic, doesn’t try to jump, choosing to wade carefully to the rock with the assistance of all three teammates.

Elvir Sulic keeps Dario Rocco from being swept downstream.

Elvir Sulic and Stiven Vunic help Darija Bostjanicic cross the fast moving stream

Tony wades in and with assistance from Stiven Vunic, the last Croatian team member, he pulls himself onto the boulder. I put my feet into the rushing water, immediately feeling the pull of the current. A few degrees from frozen, my mind pays no attention to the temperature of the water – I’m fully concentrating on getting my equipment and myself safely across the waist deep aquatic onslaught. I grab hold of the boulder and Tony tries to help me up, but my feet are slowly sliding off of submerged stone. I picture my head go under, my camera taking on water. With a renewed burst of energy I lunge onto the rock, and Tony pulls me to safety.

We continue the leapfrog routine through the relatively easy trekking in the spongy, but more firm turba. In the distance behind us we see another team approaching. Tony and I play rock, paper, scissor to determine which one of us will fall back to follow the new team. I get to sit for a bit, setting up a beautiful shot, waiting for the incoming team to move into position. As they approach, I see that it’s the Japanese team, East Wind, which has their own film crew and photographer. With the team in the right position I yell to the film crew to duck out of sight. When they get closer we start playing the leapfrog game, each trying to stay out of the others’ way. It’s pretty apparent from how Yosuke carries himself that he’s exhausted.

Team East Wind

Team East Wind

I run ahead and put my camera away (you can only take so many of the same looking shots). I don’t want to navigate for the team, but I want to stay ahead of them in case I see an incredible shot. And being much fresher than the team who has trekked through the night, I am able to easily keep in front. I come to a cliff line that I don’t remember from the morning, and the valley below looks more familiar. So I double back and go along the valley. East Wind doesn’t follow me; they stay high on the ridge.

I soon find that I did not make the right move. I come to a decision: thick forest versus climbing up a cliff. I attack the cliff, not wanting to spend any more time in the forests than I have to. At the top I can see for miles, but I don’t see the Japanese team ahead of me and I see no teams behind. Exhausted, I take off my shoes and eat a granola bar, needing some fuel to carry me on. I have an hour before the boat is supposed to come to PC4. Hopefully I can get through the lower jungle in time. The Japanese helicopter flies directly overhead, unaware that I’m below them.

With my shoes empty of sticks and stones, I take off feeling somewhat refreshed. I reach the turba filled plateau over the lake, but from a different ridge than we went up in the morning. Crossing the plateau I keep looking back up the ridges to see if there are any more teams visible, but I see no movement at all. I step carefully knowing that one false step will send me chest deep into the muck under the turba.

I reach the last river crossing and pack up my photo equipment to be as waterproof as possible (which is not very), when I hear some noise behind me. Yosuke is meandering around the lake; the Japanese team had left him behind. I was glad to see him because I was not looking forward to finding my way through the thick jungle to PC4 on my own.

We cross the river and enter the jungle near where we had left it earlier that morning, and I head in a direction toward the seashore which will lead us to the checkpoint. We push through trees and bushes, coming to a field with mounds of turba. I decide to see if I can get to a high point for a better look around, but after climbing the tallest mound I find myself up to my chest in dry turba. There is nothing inside the mound except more of the spongy substance. After bushwhacking for a while walking through turba between knee and chest high I can see water ahead, I’ve led us straight to the shore…! Oh no, it’s the river that is the complete opposite direction. Instead of heading in a westerly direction we ended up going due north.

Humans naturally go in circles when walking without reference points. It is something that has been studied for years. Check out this NPR article “A mystery: Why Can’t We Walk Straight?”. One thing the article doesn’t comment on is the fact that all of the subjects seem to circle to their right. I found this to be true, I did a perfect arc to the right that led me directly to the river.

Footprints lined the river; it’s apparent that racers had been here, but not having a map I didn’t necessarily trust the racers’ navigation. I took my compass out and took a reading. I need to go west, southwest. Keep the mountain on my left and the sun over my left shoulder. Alright, lets go….wait. It’s 5pm. The sun should be in the northwestern sky. If I’m traveling west it should be in front of me. I check the compass again: mountain on left, sun over left shoulder. This doesn’t make any sense. The sun should not be behind me. I give in and follow the mountain, keeping the sun over the back of my left shoulder. I still cannot explain why this worked.

Yosuke offers to lead for a while, as making a path through the brush is extremely exhausting. Sure enough, he starts to make that gradual right arc. It’s so easy to do; unless your REALLY paying attention to your reference points you don’t even notice. I take the lead again and finally we pop out onto the shoreline only about 300 yards from the checkpoint. Navigation success, though I’m still thoroughly confused by the position of the sun.

No boat is waiting to take us back to Porta Natales, and no boat comes that night. Over the satellite phone the checkpoint manager says one will come the next afternoon. The two main photographers are stuck behind most of the teams, with no prospect to get ahead. The Japanese NHK film crew get out by helicopter, promising to send it back for Tony, Yosuke and I, but it never comes.

A racer airs out their foot at PC4. There’s rarely a time in the race that their feet are not wet.

Taz Lawrie (Australia, Four Continents) after his second day in the race.

Since we left the resort at Torres del Paine I had not been fed anything besides chocolate bars and potato chips; two days without real food. Twenty exhausting kilometers later I am overly hungry and tired of eating junk food. I ask the Checkpoint manager for some food and he hands me a candy bar. “I can’t eat this; I need solid food.” I am introduced to pork pâté, a paste of pureed meat that comes out of a plastic tube, usually eaten with crackers. Over the next week I would eat a lot of pâté. (Even now, months later, I sometimes crave the salty goodness).

CLICK ME!!! The story continues with more photographs in the next post.

After an hour delay, the teams are sent off into Lago Grey in their two-man kayaks with spaced intervals. In the confusion of the delay I am told, with all of my baggage for the whole race, go to the beach. Then on the beach, with all of my baggage for the whole race, “Why are you here? The trucks are waiting in the parking lot for you. Hurry or they’ll leave without you.”

Members of team Adidas TERREX/Prunesco from the UK prepare for the 47 kilometer kayaking section

Noel Duffy (Australia) from team Dancing Pandas checks his gear before starting off with his team in kayaks.

Don’t stop here. More photos and story after the Jump>>

“Are we going to the boats or to the pass?” the media team asks the driver. “I’m supposed to drop some of you off at the pass, then others at the bridge. After all the teams have past, I’ll take you to the boats.” But this means all of the photographers and most of the video guys wind up on the same boat, meaning we all covered the same teams.

I climb into a two-seat “cable car”, which I assume was the only way to get across the river before the bridge was constructed. From this vantage point I could see the kayakers coming around the river bend with a beautiful view of the snow-capped mountain in the background. But the teams pass on the opposite of the river, too far to get a close shot. The truck finally comes back and takes us to the staging area for the zodiac boats.

T.C. Worley, a photographer and writer from Minnesota, enjoys looking like an orange marshmallow in our dry suits.

Orange jumpsuits. Waterproof dry suits. I feel like a marshmallow. We load onto the zodiac, which seems to purposefully take the turns as tight as it can, spraying water all around. We catch up first to the Japanese team as they paddle through the milky green-blue glacier-melt water with the Cordillera del Paine dominating the background. The paddling section doesn’t seem technically challenging, more of an endurance test, which is split by a 100-meter portage around a large, powerful rapid. The teams finish the first kayaking at an unassuming spot on the side of the river, where the second checkpoint is set up.

Team East Wind from Japan enjoys their paddling session.

Members of Team East Wind pull their kayak through the portage that bypasses a very large and impressive waterfall/rapid.

Jorge Cifuentes (Chile, Todo Aventura – La Segunda) Helps his teammate pull their kayak through the mandatory portage.

GearJunkies.com pulls through the final legs of the first kayaking portion of the race.

Were everything to operate smoothly, the teams’ gear for trekking and food would be waiting at this checkpoint. But nothing goes as planned. The first few teams decide to face the jungle in the night without receiving their food or other gear, though the gear arrives only ten minutes later.

Teams organize their gear before they embark on the massive trekking section

Fiona Spotswood (UK, Team Addidas TERREX / Prunesco) prepares to start on the trek.

Peter Spagnoli and Mark Lattanzi (US, Team Dancing Pandas) pull their kayak onto the shore

Chelsey Gribbon (US, Team Gear Junkies) takes time from organizing her gear for the trek

Kay Waki (Japan, East Wind) helps to pull her kayak up the river bank.

Stiven Vunic (Croatia, Ad Natura – Karibu) Helps his teammates pull their boat onto the river bank before taking off on their trek.

Marcelo Sinoca (Brazil, Selva NSK Kailash) pulls their boat ashore.

Ricardo de Silva (Brazil, Selva NSK Kailash) never failed to have a huge smile on his face.

Tim Kuenster (US, Perdido en el Turbal) stars off on the trekking section, walking with little rest for 73kms through unimaginably impassible wilderness.

Melissa Griffiths and Jason Urckfitz (UK, US, Perdido en el Turbal) start on the trekking section.

Arnaud Marchand and Tony Hoare enjoy a break from photographing the race, just long enough they can get some food in them.

With the trekking underway, the media team rushes to jump to checkpoints ahead in the race. Photographers Tony Hoare, Yosuke Kashiwakura , and I are delivered to Checkpoint 4, hours behind schedule. We had planned on hiking to PC3 and camping, but we didn’t arrive at PC4 until after 12:00 am. And hiking into unknown terrain in the middle of the night didn’t excite any of us.

CLICK ME!!! The story continues with more photographs in the next post.

Race Day 03. Thursday, February 10th
In the morning I awake to shouts, “There’s a boat!” Everyone is confused; the boat coming for some of the checkpoint workers isn’t supped to come till the afternoon. In the confusion only six of us got on the zodiac boat.

Don’t stop here. More photos and story after the Jump>>

We are taken to a small dock with a catamaran carrying tourists around the fjords. We have to stand outside, there is no room for us to sit, but we’re happy to on our way back to Porta Natales. Our guide, Ignacio, tells us that there are no boats from the race to take us on to PC7, but somehow he arranges for a fishing boat to take us. We take a fancy meal – of, how do you say…hot dogs – at the four-star hotel before heading to the boatyard.

I borrowed Yosuke’s 15mm fisheye lens. I’ve got to get me one!

The captain of the boat said he had to run and get something. Two hours later we are creaking out of the harbor in a rickety old fishing boat. “How long should it take?” we ask. “Two hours.” Now I know from my past experiences that transportation operators’ time estimations are usually exaggerated, but we left at 6pm and did not arrive till after 12:30pm. It doesn’t get dark till around 10pm, but when it became dark it became clear what we were doing. The boat did not have any spotlights; the captain did not have any charts, maps, GPS, or depth finders.

The capatain of our small fishing boat.

Tony catches some shut eye in the cramped quarters on our six hour journey

We are purely going off the computer printout of the race map to get to our location through the crazy maze of Patagonian fjords, jutting into the sea like interlocking fingers. In the dark with no moonlight, with much effort you could make out the faint outline of the mountains rising out of the dark water. Tony and take up positions on the prow of the boat straining our eyes to see ahead into the blackness. Suddenly I see a large shape form out of the sea. I yell for the captain to turn towards the starboard, and Tony exclaims, “Iceberg!!!” The form is glowing, reflecting the light of our LED headlamps. The boat slows to a crawl as we search the water for other icebergs. As the shape comes closer we realize it is just a giant rock coming out of the water, there are no icebergs around.

In the distance we see headlamps moving along a ridge. We start flashing our lights back and forth, feigning communication. The lights move towards the shore and the captain aims at the same spot. Ignacio says, “Should we check the GPS?” He had a GPS the whole time and didn’t tell anyone. It shows we’re about a kilometer and half away from the location of PC7; we had been communicating with a team, not the checkpoint. I’m not sure if they thought we were coming to rescue them or what. We get to where the GPS says the checkpoint is, but we see several different sets of headlamps on the ridges surrounding us, and nothing that looks like a large gathering of tents and people. The captain anchors his boat, and we get into the wooden dinghy we’ve been dragging with us (that was slowly sinking the entire trip). He drops us on the rocky shore and we debate which way to get around. We take off through the brush, finding that we’re walking on top of trees – well, walking is a relative term. We can see the camp, but it’s too much effort to continue so we find a way around.

Team Dancing Pandas are sleeping, getting ready to attack the next section. They’re in somewhat of a desperate situation; Masha Glanville (Canada) lost some medication in the bushwhacking and needs the meds to continue. They’ve been told that if they can get to PC8 before the cutoff, they will have her medication, and they can continue on the race. But what they don’t know is there’s a major river crossing just on the other side of the checkpoint.

Tony prepares his gear and photo equipment for the river crossing, and I plan to capture the team’s unexpected dash into the frigid waters. We’re told it’s about chest deep, but the tide has come in so we can’t tell exactly how deep it is, especially in the dark at 2:30 in the morning. I had wanted to take night shots and here was my chance, but I also wanted to finish this section of the trek. I pack up my gear as best as I can without packing my camera and accessories, but not having time to make sure everything is “waterproofed” I am uneasy about the crossing.

The Dancing Pandas roll out of their sleeping bags only two hours after they crawled into them cold, wet, and exhausted. Their heads come together, asking the questions, “Do we continue? Or are we too drained to continue?” Masha excitedly exclaims, “We’re going! Now!” And seemingly before anyone was truly ready, Tony and I included, they take off into the predawn darkness.

Mark Lattanzi and Peter Spagnoli (US, Dancing Pandas) check their gear before setting off for PC8 at 2:30am.

Masha Glanville (Canada, Dancing Pandas) is determined to get to PC8 where she can get her much needed medication.

Noel Duffy and Peter Spagnoli (Australia and US, Dancing Pandas) prepare themselves to do a river crossing, which in the middle of the night has a great possibility of causing hypothermia

The frigid and fast moving current quickly rises to Mark Lattanzi’s chest, and then beyond. His feet leave the bottom, and he swims desperately for the other side, reaching for branches of a downed tree. The three others follow knowing right now it’s their only choice. The checkpoint manager had said, “This is the place to cross, it’s the most narrow,” and the team in their urgency did not take the time to scout out a different point. In the dark there was hardly any point, you couldn’t see to make an informed decision. (In the morning I found that it became more shallow and passable at the mouth where the river dispersed into the lagoon. There the current slows and all the sediment the river has been dragging along gets dropped, leaving a mass more easily walked across.)

The Dancing Pandas, along with Tony Hoare and Ignacio reach the other side after having to swim across the river.

Tony jumps into the water, determined to follow the team to the next checkpoint, despite his gear not being fully waterproofed. The Pandas help to pull him out on the other side.

I yell across, “Is your camera ok?”
“I hope so!” he nervously yells back.
“I don’t think I’m coming! I’m not ready. My bag is not nearly waterproofed enough.”

I watch as their five headlamps trace the contours of the ridge, leading to the pass between the mountains. Further up the ridge other clusters of headlamps head for the pass. When they reach the most difficult section, near the pinnacle of the pass, the run into a traffic jam. Three other teams, the Japanese, *Lost in Turba*, and ** have reached at the same time. Competitiveness goes out the window as the teams help each other climb the steep, rocky slope just as the sun pops up above the horizon.

I return to my “pre-packed” things to find that Yosuke has thoughtfully put them in his tent, solidifying that I am not going to cross the river and follow the last team to pass through PC7. During the night, a rain comes that does not stop for days. Everyone in camp hides away in their tents the whole day, desperate to keep at least somewhat dry. I keep looking over the ridge, regretting not following the Dancing Pandas’ river crossing. Because I did not make it to PC8 I am missing the second kayaking section to PC9, and the beginning of the subsequent long trekking section. I hope that I can catch some more of the race; I feel like I’ve missed so much already.

Race Day 04. Friday February 11th
A helicopter comes to take the Japanese film crew to PC8, landing on the rocky bank of the river. After being quickly loaded, it starts to take off but only gets about twenty feet off the ground. The pilot motions for one passenger to grab his bag and get off; there’s too much weight. An hour later the helicopter returns to pick up the straggler, and he pulls Yosuke on board. Yosuke yells and waves me over. There’s space on board and I can jump ahead to PC8! The aircraft lifts off, and the film crew still stuck at PC7 flip me the bird before they turn and lumber off through the rain.

Shaking and lurching, twisting side to side, the helicopter continues to gain altitude until it’s no longer going up, just twisting and shaking. The pilot lowers the craft to the ground once again. He turns to me, “I’m sorry, you can’t go.” My first time on a helicopter and I only got twenty feet off the ground!

I go moping back to the video guys, Brad and Arnaud, defeated by my failed attempt to escape PC7. I’m stuck, yet again, for multiple days.

A boat appears in the fjord! I am excited to get back to Porta Natales and reconnect with the race teams, but from the boat comes two disqualified teams and the PC6 staff. It’s another fifteen people for PC7 to support and feed, as our foods supplies were running low. Luckily, the PC6 crew brought their leftover food barrels giving us plenty of food to survive another couple of days (Though quality of food is questionable. I hope that, along with logistics for the media, the food is planned out much better next year). The small boat is returning to Porta Natales, but I’m told I cannot go with them because it would take too long. Another boat is apparently coming that can take all twenty-five (or so) of us, but I doubt the expediency of this next crafts coming.

Marcelo Sinoca (Brazil, Selva NSK Kailash) and Soledad Cristiano (Argentina, Todo Aventura – La Segunda) survive despite the unending rain.

“Oop, there’s a tooth!” says Taz in the middle of a story. His tooth just popped out, and he picks it up from the ground.

Taz showing off his missing tooth

Paulette Kirby (US) and Andre Vogel (Australia) of Team Four Continents wait to be extracted from PC7 after dropping out of the race due to not making the time cutoffs.

Ricardo da Silva (Brazil, Selva NSK Kailash) waiting in the rain at PC7

Taz Lawrie (Australia, Four Continents), always a great subject to photograph, is an airline pilot in Kazakhstan.

Rose Hoeppner (Brazil, Selva NSK Kailash) takes advantage of the downtime to brush her teeth while still struggling to stay dry.

The Brazilian team, Selva NKS Kailash, made up of ex-military; the Chilean/Argentina team, Todo Aventura – La segunda; and the ragtag Four Continents led by the unique Taz; these teams along with all the support staff for PC6 and PC7 and the small media crew wait in the rain on the rocky, narrow beach of the fjord for boat to come “rescue” us. Taz, despite having endured unimaginable exhaustion and physical strain over the last couple of days, asks if anyone wants to go on an exploration trek around the area just to see what we can find. No one takes him up on his offer. I find him standing next to the river visibly contemplating trying to cross, but he resigns to his tent, taking cover from the onslaught of rain.

Life in the tent. You either sleep or eat, praying the tent doesn’t leak. Potato chips…the food staple.

Taz Lawrie waiting out a particularly intense bout of rain.

I hate that I am not on the other side of PC8 and cannot take being cooped up any longer, so I take off into wilds back toward PC6 to explore. I trace the curves of several inlets, splashing through the shin deep water to avoid the impassibly tangled forests. I enjoy my freedom, but I second guess the fact that I did not tell anyone where I was going. I figure, though, from my vantage points I will be able to see the boat coming far before anyone in camp; I will not be left behind. I climb the furthest outcropping visible from camp, maybe a kilometer away as the bird flies. I bound over the turbal and scale the rocky face, just happy to be exerting energy and to not be in a tent. From here I can see miles and miles back along the fjords toward Porta Natales and one thing is clear, there is no boat coming any time soon.

Just before I reach camp I see a scene so perfect, so picturesque I cannot not photograph it. It would be great to have a team splashing through the shallow waters with the mountains and the forest as the backdrop. I wake up Taz, “Hey, you want to get your feet wet? Want to do a photoshoot?” He answers, “I’ll see if the others are up to it.” It takes a while to get Andre out of his sleeping bag, but eventually everyone gets really into pretending they are deep in the wilderness for the photos.

Team Four Continents making bushwacking look easy.

Late in the afternoon the boat finally comes to deliver the weary teams, media and checkpoint staff back to Porta Natales. We enjoy being dry and inside a comfortable cabin for the six-hour ride back. Everyone lays wet clothing and equipment out on the top deck in a desperate attempt to dry them, and the crew put our shoes in the engine compartment thinking the heat will help them to dry. We arrive in Porta Natales, greeted by a hord of journalists snapping photos and filming. I am whisked away and stuffed into a taxi that takes me to a restaurant where much of the staff are eating.

I’m living the good life in the Remota, a four star hotel in Porta Natales. This is in stark contrast to being drenched in the pouring rain for two days, protected only by hardly water-resistant tents. The peculiar building juts out of the hillside as if it were once part of the earth, the roof covered in tall grass and the siding made of aged wood. The lobby is flooded with natural light, and the aged wood styling is repeated throughout the large, multi-level room. The guest rooms are simply decorated, but the geometric shapes of the hotel are repeated throughout, including the bathroom wall that opens up to a large window (great for couples, not so much for three guys in the same room). Dinner is served for all the race volunteers in the hotel, a delicious alternative to all the paté and crackers I have been eating for the past week. The comfortable bed is just as delicious as the meal.

CLICK ME!!! The story continues with more photographs in the next post.