Reasons why photography is terrible

7/17/17

I woke to a bedraggled campground and a slightly-cleaner Jane. Almost 2000 miles of dust had been partially washed off, and what was left had pooled in random places and was in the process of drying to create a leopard-spotted effect. Jane had progressed past a “barn find” level of dirtiness and was now approaching an “abandoned in a field” rating. I left her that way, being under the belief that the extra dust and bugs would help protect the paint from chips from flying rocks.

Fortunately, everything dried up quickly and I was able to leave camp in good time without having a ton of wet gear in the trunk. I avoid mold as much as I can because, you know, I have to live in this thing for over a month. So having dry stuff is paramount!

Today was another long driving day. The plan was to get to Great Falls, MT, where I would stay in a hotel (no good camping available). So we got on the road and ate up some more blacktop. Jane also ate some more dragonflies, a terrible habit of which I have been unable to break her.

Disgusting.

I'd love to know the story behind this creek's name.

We got quite a ways down the road before I was distracted. But how could one not be distracted when alerted to the presence of Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument, the site of Custer’s Last Stand? I pulled off to stretch my legs and do some learning. 

I am not a big history buff. In fact, history may be my worst subject. I just don’t have a head for remembering names, dates, places… anything, really. Hell, I can’t even remember what I do in a day, so I guess it’s unsurprising that I can’t remember what anyone else has done either.

Regardless, I was familiar with the fame of Custer’s Last Stand. And I have to admit that I was curious how the park would handle such a double-edged sword. After all, the story can be told from both sides. Custer could be portrayed as a hero, nobly standing against overwhelming odds against savages. Or the Native Americans could be portrayed as the heroes, desperately standing against the government to preserve their way of life. Towards that end I was really impressed with how the issue was handled. Both sides of the story were told, and I think that that really helped impress upon me the sadness of the whole thing. The museum and exhibits were excellent and a ranger talk was even more so.

I wandered up to the crest of Last Stand Hill, where a large obelisk commemorates the graves of hundreds of soldiers. Little white gravestones dot the prairie spread below the hill, marking the final resting spots of many. The solemnity of the site is overwhelming, and it’s hard to imagine the chaos that took place in that time. Now, the prairie is quiet and peaceful, long grass rustling in the gentle breeze thoughtfully.

Across the street stands the memorial for the Native Americans. Not just the Native Americans who fell in battle, but all that ultimately lost their lands and their way of life to the path of progress. It’s an incredibly sad and touching memorial that features stories and quotes from those who lost what was important to them.

I left with a lot of respect. I’d highly recommend Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument to anyone with an interest in history, particularly Native American history, as the site really has a lot to say. I was very impressed – and that coming from someone who is never really that interested in solely historical sites.

Jane and I then trucked on towards Great Falls. Late afternoon passed, and then evening, and still we traveled the vast plains. A couple of wind farms were our only break from the emptiness of it all. Emptiness isn’t quite the right word, as it implies a lack, and the plains did not lack. But they were devoid of human influence for the most part, and that was what made them seem empty. Rays of sunlight streaked down from the clouds, kissing the hills far off in the distance and shyly spreading across the plains, throwing the subtle dips in the land into sharp relief. The beauty of it was almost crushing.

And that brings me to the title of today’s post: reasons why photography is terrible. You see, photography is kind of awful. When I’m on the road I bring two cameras with me: one little point-and-shoot, which can easily be set up on the dash to take photos over the hood with minimal distraction, and one better point-and-shoot with all kinds of settings for taking all kinds of pictures. But neither of these cameras can show anyone else what I am really seeing. They take the vastness of the world and distill it down into a single two-dimensional frame, frequently losing all kinds of details that are what really made the scene wonderful. Things far in the background get condensed down in favor of those in the foreground, because normally the foreground is what people care about. But I’m not that kind of person. I care about the whole scope of the scene, all the little details, even far away. Zooming in to the details far away causes you to lose the rest of the scene, which is even worse. And so to you, those photos above probably look kind of boring, like some flat fields and some hills in the background. But it was so much more than that.

I wish that I could show people the true scale of the world. For many, my photos – menial as they are – are all they will ever see of a particular location. So photography endlessly frustrates me, because what I see and what the camera sees is never the same thing. With a better camera this effect could be somewhat improved, but never completely erased. You all must view my world through a machine’s eyes, not through mine. Oh, how I wish that I could really show you!

My frustration with cameras aside, we finally arrived at the O’Haire Motor Inn, our divey stop for the night. And when I say divey, I mean divey… literally. This place had a bar/lounge with a big tank in it, and swimming around in that tank were live mermaids! That is, people dressed as mermaids with the tails and everything. How odd! Bit of a weird contrast from the solemn battlefield and the vast silent prairies I had come from as well. I eyeballed it for a while and then went to read my book, being too at-odds to really enjoy it. And so ended that night.

Kelly signing out.