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This is the pic out of 3 weeks worth that I decided to yank off my camera first....
...and edit during a thunderstorm. It was meant to be!
I've been working on my set from this cross-country trip, check out the rest here: www.flickr.com/photos/dangler/sets/72157631439881246/
Taken at Devils Tower, Wyoming during what was one hell of a storm! Windy, rainy and dangerous! The tent was blowing over but Lisa kept circling with the mallet to pound in the spikes. I said I had to keep shooting, chance of a lifetime!! ZAP!!!!!
A legend of Devil's Tower
A Brule Sioux Legend
Out of the plains of Wyoming rises Devil's Tower. It is really a rock, visible for hundreds of miles around, an immense cone of basalt which seems to touch the clouds. It sticks out of the flat prairie as if someone had pushed it up from underground.
Of course, Devil's Tower is a white man's name. We have no devil in our beliefs and got along well all these many centuries without him. You people invented the devil and, as far as I'm concerned, you can keep him. But everybody these days knows that towering rock by this name, so Devil's Tower it is.
No use telling you its Indian name. Most tribes call it bear rock. There is a reason for that - if you see it, you will notice on its sheer sides many, many streaks and gashes running straight up and down, like scratches made by giant claws.
Well, long, long ago, two young Indian boys found themselves lost in the prairie. You know how it is. They had played shinny ball and whacked it a few hundred yards out of the village. And then they had shot their toy bows still farther out into the sagebrush. And then they had heard a small animal make a noise and had gone to investigate.
They had come to a stream with many colorful pebbles and followed that for a while. They had come to a hill and wanted to see what was on the other side. On the other side they saw a herd of antelope and, of course, had to track them for a while.
When they got hungry and thought it was time to go home, the two boys found that they didn't know where they were. They started off in the direction where they thought their village was, but only got farther and farther away from it. At last they curled up beneath a tree and went to sleep.
They got up the next morning and walked some more, still headed the wrong way. They ate some wild berries and dug up wild turnips, found some choke-cherries, and drank water from streams. For three days they walked toward the west. They were footsore, but they survived.
Oh, how they wished that their parents, or aunts or uncles, or elder brothers and sisters would find them. But nobody did.
On the fourth day the boys suddenly had a feeling that they were being followed. They looked around and in the distance saw Mato, the bear. This was no ordinary bear, but a giant grizzly so huge that the two boys would only make a small mouthful for him, but he had smelled the boys and wanted that mouthful. He kept coming close, and the earth trembled as he gathered speed.
The boys started running, looking for a place to hide, but there was no such place and the grizzly was much, much faster than they.
They stumbled, and the bear was almost upon them. They could see his red, wide-open jaws full of enormous, wicked teeth. They could smell his hot, evil breath. The boys were old enough to have learned to pray, and they called upon Wakan Tanka, the Creator: "Tunkashila, Grandfather, have pity, save us."
All at once the earth shook and began to rise. The boys rose with it. Out of the earth came a cone of rock going up, up until it was more than a thousand feet high. And the boys were on top of it. Mato the bear was disappointed to see his meal disappearing into the clouds.
Have I said he was a giant bear? This grizzly was so huge that he could almost reach to the top of the rock, trying to get up, trying to get those boys. As he did so, he made big scratches in the sides of the towering rock. But the stone was too slippery; Mato could not get up. He tried every spot, every side. He scratched up the rock all around, but it was no use. The boys watched him wearing himself out, getting tired, giving up. They finally saw him going away, a huge, growling, grunting mountain of fur disappearing over the horizon.
The boys were saved. Or were they? How were they to get down? They were humans, not birds who could fly.
Some ten years ago, mountain climbers tried to conquer Devil's Tower. They had ropes, and iron hooks called pitons to nail themselves to the rockface, and they managed to get up. But they couldn't get down. They were marooned on that giant basalt cone, and they had to be taken off in a helicopter. In the long-ago days the Indians had no helicopters.
So how did the two boys get down? The legend does not tell us, but we can be sure that the Great Spirit didn't save those boys only to let them perish of hunger and thirst on the top of the rock.
Well, Wanblee, the eagle, has always been a friend to our people. So it must have been the eagle that let the boys grab hold of him and carried them safely back to their village.
Or do you know another way?
- Told by Lame Deer in Winner, Rosebud Sioux Indian Reservation, South Dakota, 1969.
This is one of my favourite watch and kind of grial in a way. The sought after Caravelle Sea Hunter, also known as devils diver as is 666 ft water resistant. Well, was. This one has been in the Vietnam war and is now 50 years old. Needs some fixing but it's so beautiful with the Tudor Ranger numerals and classic Explorer layout. Images registerd in www.safecreative.org. Caravelle is the affordable brand of Bulova.
Autumn Hopyard Road leaving Devils Hopyard State Park.
Photo editing by Cuz J. (he doesn't get to enjoy these fall colors in New England, because he's "stuck" in paradise)
RED DEVIL - an extensively modified class "25NC" non-condensing 4-8-4 locomotive.
Parked for many years in dimly-lit corner of Cape Town's station complex.
3 exp HDR with textures by Skeletalmess and JoeSistah.
This one I took for the vanishing point.
If it intrigues you . . . Google "red devil locomotive" . . . some amazing images of her roaring along SA railways under a full head of steam and billowing smoke . . . wished I'd taken those!
Devils Den on Fyfield Down. My first visit at Sunset, still getting the hang of the new Samyang 14mm lens, think I could have done with some focus stacking on this one.
I collected this shot as I was rolling by on my Harley while shooting from the hip.
Names for Devil's Tower before white man arrived are as follows: Aloft on a Rock (Kiowa), Bear's House (Cheyenne, Crow), Bear's Lair (Cheyenne, Crow), Daxpitcheeaasáao, "Home of bears" (Crow[6]), Bear's Lodge (Cheyenne, Lakota), Bear's Lodge Butte (Lakota), Bear's Tipi (Arapaho, Cheyenne), Tree Rock (Kiowa), and Grizzly Bear Lodge (Lakota).
According to Native Americans and record of Wikipedia
Lol, for the shot I tried to guide this Devil's Coachhorse into position with a little twig, but it chose to run up it instead. It posed quite nicely, but briefly, before throwing itself off the end, landing on my hand, where it opened its mandibles wide. Oooer, down you go!
I was looking for something completely different when I found this sitting on my hard drive. An old 'un from 2007.
The old Devil's Slide section of Hwy 1 between Montara and Pacifica, California has been closed to auto traffic and is now a biking and hiking trail. This is a shot from that trail.
Notice the prolific pampas grass(Cortaderia selloana or Cortaderia jubata) in the foreground - a nasty invasive that causes problems wherever it goes.
Take Devil's Staircase trekking and enjoy the breathtaking views of the Southern Plains. This famous route is a 14km long trail of sharp zig-zag twists that are extremely steep and difficult, but quite thrilling to travel.