I have blazed through this stretch of I5 many times. In an effort to see what I have been missing, I slowed down and and checked out these places. I had a great time shooting in Weed with the Instax 210. It is a pain to deal with the prints digitally from the road. I have so many freaking cameras that I forget to include them chronologically. As I approached Weed from the south, the prominent Black Butte appeared:
Seriously, that is a much better than normal ‘out the window’ shot. Okay, once in Weed I drove all around. I found myself at the paper mill and near the railroad tracks. I know I was not supposed to drive in here.
These unusual clouds were very reminiscent of the ‘drippy’ clouds I saw this summer in Weiser, ID. Many many times I have thought that I should have studied atmospheric sciences instead of geology.
Anyway, time and again, there is a something that catches my eye. Seeking that something I find much better shots. In Weed, it was the cracking, deteriorating paint of exterior panels of a plywood plant. I did end up with the shot I was seeking:
Other, more compelling shots appeared as well.
From near the empty train car above, I shot back towards Black Butte with the infrared d5000:
I am grateful for my new camera acquisitions. I have been to enough thrift stores to know that walking away with one, let alone four intriguing cameras is special. I was not sure where to go, so I drove around and sat in the car. The strange intense rain began to come.
I found a place to camp of the US97 on the northwest flank of Shasta. The intense rain was comical in a way. I barely had time to put my tent up, when, as Steve Earle sang, the rain came down. I tried to relax in the downpour. Soon I heard the unmistakable sound of disturbed pools of water. They were in the tent. Two big puddles had formed near my feet inside the tent. The sleeping bag was soaked. The good thing about down lining is that it stays warm when wet.
In was a slow morning. I let everything dry out. I loaded up my new Polaroid 210 Land Camera and wasted two shots determining that yes, the battery was dead. So with some wire cutters, I stripped out the terminals. Recalling something I read somewhere, I destroyed a 6V, two cell battery that came with the Nikon N50. I wired up one cell and got an image. I found out that once again there is too much pressure from inside the camera for the plastic FP100C body. A permanent echo of the placement of the paper tab are in my first shots from the new camera. I have said it before, but if not for the Fuji Instax 210, I would quickly give up on instant photography. Does anything ever go right with these old Polaroids? Unfortunately, the old metal pack film back I usually use did not make it into the car.
I made it to Yreka.
Seeing the old theater put me right in the heart of Thrift Store central. No film, no new camera. These were neat but I left them there:
A woman stopped me, totally perplexed as to why I would shoot this. Maybe it is hard to understand.
I put this blog together in a mexican restaurant while 30 members of a christian biker group streamed in. You can’t make this stuff up.
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