Improvising
This weekend's weather turned out to be nicer than the total washout the weatherman was predicting. It was warm with nice cloud cover on Saturday afternoon, so I decided to venture out to Cub Run for some long exposures.
I loaded my gear and my husband, who even though he had a headache insisted on coming along to protect me, into the car and we drove the 45 minutes out to Cub Run. I imagined with the rain we've had lately that the stream would be running well, and it was. I excitedly pick a scenic spot, set up my tripod, got out my camera and... SHIT. Actually, I said different 4-letter word. The F-Word. Several times in fact. In less than a second my entire trip had been rendered useless when I realized, standing there in the middle of the woods, that I had left my quick release plate at home. I had no way of attaching my camera to the tripod. More F-Words ensued.
I eventually got a grip and decided to improvise. I refused to waste all that gas for nothing. There are plenty of rocks along the edge of Cub Run, or as I like to call them, "nature's tripods". After all, it's not the first time I've found myself without a functioning tripod in the middle of the woods!
Improvising
This weekend's weather turned out to be nicer than the total washout the weatherman was predicting. It was warm with nice cloud cover on Saturday afternoon, so I decided to venture out to Cub Run for some long exposures.
I loaded my gear and my husband, who even though he had a headache insisted on coming along to protect me, into the car and we drove the 45 minutes out to Cub Run. I imagined with the rain we've had lately that the stream would be running well, and it was. I excitedly pick a scenic spot, set up my tripod, got out my camera and... SHIT. Actually, I said different 4-letter word. The F-Word. Several times in fact. In less than a second my entire trip had been rendered useless when I realized, standing there in the middle of the woods, that I had left my quick release plate at home. I had no way of attaching my camera to the tripod. More F-Words ensued.
I eventually got a grip and decided to improvise. I refused to waste all that gas for nothing. There are plenty of rocks along the edge of Cub Run, or as I like to call them, "nature's tripods". After all, it's not the first time I've found myself without a functioning tripod in the middle of the woods!