A Bryce Canyon Photo Shoot

It’s all about timing.

I’m at Bryce Canyon with one of my aerial photography clients this weekend. Although we’re here to do some aerial work at Bryce and then at the Grand Canyon (and maybe Sedona), we’re grounded due to weather. Yesterday dumped at least 10 inches of snow in the area, blanketing everything with thick white snow. Last night, it started to clear out. My client and I arranged to meet before dawn and see what we could shoot in the park at sunrise.

We met at 6:30 AM. The moon, waning two days past full, was still up and, at one point, was beautifully framed by the tall, snow-covered pines along the park’s entrance road. We pulled over into a cleared area and my client spent about 20 minutes standing in the snow across the road with his tripod and camera. I took the opportunity to touch base with my husband back in Wickenburg.

The clouds were moving in again when we finally got back on the road. My client didn’t have much hope. I was uncertain. I know how quickly conditions can change up here. I also knew that the temperature/dew point spread at the airport 5 miles away was only 2°C — and that meant possible fog. I was hoping some of that fog might be in the canyon.

Inside the park, only two viewpoints were open: Sunrise Point and Sunset Point. Both look out into the “Amphitheater” area , a roughly C shaped canyon facing southeast. My client and I were glad the other road was closed; it meant our brief aerial photo work the next morning was less likely to bother park visitors.

Snow ThrowerMy client steered us to Sunset Point. Two very large snow throwers were at work in the parking area where only two cars were parked. We parked behind one of them, got our gear together, and headed out to the lookout point.

Although the path had been cleared the day before, about 2 inches of fresh powdery snow lay atop the surface. Below that was a sheet of ice. We both walked carefully. The viewpoint was deserted. The view was…well, interesting, but not perfect. The fog I wanted to see was layered in the canyon and at various other places beyond it. There was enough fog to make it interesting without really obscuring the hoodoos — red, column-like rock formations — that we’d come to see. The trouble was, the light was awful. The sun was up, but it was hidden behind thick clouds. The light was gray and lifeless.

The hiking trail down into the canyon was open — despite thick snow covering the pathway. My client, who was prepared to hike in deep snow, announced he was going down. I had the car keys. The idea was that when I got cold, I’d wait for him in the car. My iPad was in there, so I’d be able to read or check e-mail. He headed down and I walked back to the view point to see how things would change.

Another photographer showed up about five minutes later. We got to talking. He was from the Salt Lake City area and had come down the day before. He couldn’t believe all the snow he was seeing had fallen in just that day. As we chatted, we snapped photos. I had my monopod with me; he was shooting handheld. (My client was lugging a very heavy tripod down the trail with him.) A few minutes later, the man’s family joined us. He and his daughter (I assume) headed down the trail, leaving me up top with his wife and other daughter (I assume). We did a lot of chatting and photo snapping as time went on.

First LightThe first hint that things might improve came a while later when the sun started breaking through the clouds. I snapped this photo using the HDR function of my iPhone and then fixed it up a bit more in Photoshop to bring out the shadows. Not too impressive. The light faded again right after that and I started thinking about how warm the car might be. But I decided to stick it out a bit longer.

I was glad I did. A few things happened:

  • The sun rose higher. Of course, I expected that.
  • The clouds drifted on a gentle breeze to the west. The effect of that was to make it easier for the sun to poke over the top of the cloud bank.
  • The fog bank began drifting into the canyon.

The effect of all these changes, which occurred over the course of about an hour, was to make an amazing, constantly changing scene in front of me. I began doing real photography. The three photos shown below are among the best I shot.

Bryce Dawn 1Snowy Bryce Dawn 1
D7000, f/10 @ 34 mm, 1/400, ISO 400, No Flash

What I like most about this first shot is the laying of the low clouds among the hoodoos in the canyon. This really helped to separate the rock formations and add an element of three-dimensionality. It was also neat to be above the clouds without having to fly there.

I had two lenses with me: a Nikkor 10-24mm and a Nikkor 16-85mm. Although I prefer the 16-85mm lens — it’s the absolute perfect all-purpose lens — I found that I was shooting most photos with the wider view. With my Nikon D7000’s 1.5x crop factor, this lens, at its widest focal length, is equivalent to a 15mm 35mm camera lens. There’s very little distortion — unlike my 10.5mm fisheye, which is fun but not practical. I liked the way it accentuated the sky in some of the earlier shots I took.

For a while, I switched back and forth — no easy feat when wearing gloves and relying on a jacket pocket for lens storage. Later, as the light continued to change, I wound up sticking with the 16-85mm lens, which also had a polarizer on it. That came in handy when the sun had risen high enough over the cloud bank to bring out some of the colors. I’m a big fan of using polarizing filters when the light is right for them. It really can accentuate the outlines of clouds and the blue of the sky, not to mention the red in the rocks.

Bryce Canyon Dawn 2Snowy Bryce Dawn 2
D7000, f/10 @ 16 mm, 1/400, ISO 400, No Flash

I’m actually a little annoyed about this photo. When I shoot, I compose in the camera with every intention of using the full frame image. In other words, I shoot photos that don’t need to be cropped. This is very easy if you use zoom lenses, which I do, and take the time to compose properly.

The problem with this image is that when I shot it, I included my monopod head, which was leaning against a fence rail, in the lower-left corner of the picture. It ruined the photo. The only way to “fix” it was to crop it. This was the best I could do. It is not as I intended. I may attempt to remove the monopod head with Photoshop in the future, but I generally don’t like doing things like that. We’ll see.

Bryce Canyon Lone PineBryce Canyon Lone Pine
D7000, f/11 @ 24 mm, 1/500, ISO 400, No Flash

I like to shoot foreground items with interesting backgrounds. This tree, with the fog, clouds, and sky behind it to separate it from the background details, made a great foreground subject. And what could be more interesting in the background than snow-covered red rock hoodoos?

In all, I shot about 50 images over the course of 90 minutes. These were the three I liked most after viewing them on my laptop. I might find other favorites when I get back to my office and have time to look at them again.

I should mention that my camera was outfitted with its Nikon GPS, which worked like a charm to encode location information into each shot. This was the first time I used it. The device is awkward and I’m not sure how often I’ll really want to use it. I might reserve it for tripod-based work.

The fog bank continued to move in and eventually blocked out the sun again. The overlook chilled back down to its pre-sun temperature. Down below, on the trail, my client and the two other people who’d gone down started back up. The dad and his daughter arrived first and the family left together. When I realized my client had stopped for more photos, I decided to head back to the car. He joined me about 20 minutes later.

It had been a nice morning shoot, despite the cold. My client says there’s too much snow on the hoodoos for the aerial shoot we need to do before heading south again. While I agree that there’s a lot, I don’t think there’s too much. The red rocks are still clearly visible and should look great from the air.

As I write this four hours after our return, the snow is falling again. Let’s hope it doesn’t add much more to the scenery here.

Today’s Snowy Adventure

A comedy of errors in four acts.

I’m at Bryce Canyon this morning. I flew up here with a client to do an aerial photo shoot. We knew the weather was going to get bad today and made sure we arrived yesterday, before we couldn’t get in at all. Based on the forecast, we figured we’d get the shoot done on Sunday afternoon and Monday morning before heading down to the Grand Canyon to do a shoot there.

The weather was surprisingly good and, if it hadn’t been so windy, we probably would have attempted the shoot on arrival. Instead, we parked the helicopter and I slipped on its blade hail covers, which I’d brought along. We’re not expecting hail, but I figured (correctly, according to two cold-climate pilots I spoke to) that the covers would also keep snow and ice off the blade surfaces. Unfortunately, there was no way to guarantee that snow wouldn’t accumulate on top of the covers. Heavy snow or ice sitting on the covers on the blades could cause them to droop excessively; if that happened, the blade droop stops could be damaged. So I’d have to keep an eye on the situation, possibly by making multiple trips to the airport during the weekend. The airport is 3 or 4 miles from the hotel we’re staying in, Ruby’s Inn. My client rented a car.

After checking in at Ruby’s the weather got better and better. My client went into the park to photograph the hoodoos and stayed there to watch the moon rise. He told me later that he took 20-minute exposures of the hoodoos lighted by just the moon and they look like they were shot in daylight. (I’m looking forward to seeing them.) I elected to stay in my room. I’m recovering from a nasty cold that just about ruined my vacation. It was cold out — probably around 35°F before sunset — and the heater works very well in my room. When I finally turned in for the night around 9 PM, the moon was shining brightly in what looked like a perfectly clear sky.

Hard to believe the weather forecast said 80% chance of snow in less than 2 hours.

Act I: The Snow Begins

Things were different when I woke up at about 3:40 AM. There was probably about 2 inches of snow on the ground and more coming down. Two hours later, when it started to get light, there was at least another 2 inches. Not much wind, either. I started wondering how much 4 inches of snow on 14-foot long helicopter rotor blades weighed.

At about 7 AM, my client showed up outside my door. I saw him through the window; he didn’t want to knock. I opened it. By then, the snow was quite impressive, piled up on everyone’s car. The wind had begun to blow a bit, too.

“Look at all this snow,” he said. “We can’t go to the airport to check the helicopter. The car is just a sedan. No four wheel drive.”

In all honesty, it didn’t look that bad yet. I recall driving 40 miles in snow twice as deep — in a 1987 Toyota MR2. Not exactly an all-terrain vehicle.

I told him I’d call the airport. I did. No one answered. I left a message asking them to peek out the window and report back to me about the rotor blades. But at the rate the snow was falling, I wasn’t willing to wait long for a report. I told my client I’d try again in a half hour. Otherwise, I needed to go.

The snow kept falling. The wind was blowing but didn’t seem to be making a dent in the accumulations on the tops of cars and trucks parked silently in the lot below my window.

Act II: Our Drive to the Airport — and Confrontation with a Jerk

Dressed for WinterAt 7:30, after getting no answer at the airport again, I got dressed in my best effort at winter gear. That meant a cotton turtleneck shirt with a cotton long sleeved shirt over that, a pair of nylon/spandex leggings with a pair of denim jeans over that, cotton socks, sneakers (I left from Phoenix where I don’t keep a pair of boots), my wool scarf, my leather jacket (with lamb fleece collar removed so as not to gather snow), ear warmer head band, baseball cap, and wooly gloves. The only pieces of clothing from my suitcase that I wasn’t wearing were my pajamas, the shirt I’d worn the day before, and one extra shirt I’d brought along. I looked ridiculous (see photo; I don’t think putting this photo on Craig’s List would get me in as much trouble as this guy’s photo did) but figured I’d be warm enough.

I went to my client’s door. He was wearing sweatpants, having a cup of coffee. He didn’t look ready to go out. I told him I’d start scraping the snow off the car. He protested quite loudly, but I just went.

Partially Cleared SnowI had a plastic shopping bag with me and I used it to cover one arm. (The goal was to keep as dry as possible.) I then used sweeping motions to get the snow off the car. It didn’t take long. The snow was a bit wet but moved easily. Not very heavy. But there was at least 8 inches of it accumulated. What would that weigh on my blades? I was starting to get very nervous about it.

A plow came through the parking lot leaving the inevitable snow bank behind the car.

My client appeared. He told me he was going to buy an ice scraper. I pointed out that there wasn’t any ice. I asked him to start the engine and use the wiper blades to finish off the front window. I recleared the side and back window; another 1/4 inch of snow had already blanketed them.

While he backed up, I stood at the hood, pushing. He didn’t seem to have much trouble moving it, but made the fatal error of turning the wheel before he’d cleared the snowbank. The back end of the car plowed into it and the car was stuck fast.

I started work on the snowbank. By this time, two other cars had successfully extracted themselves. Two guys hurried over to help us. When the car wouldn’t budge, one asked if he could sit at the wheel. My client stepped out and the other guy got in. With three of us pushing at the hood and the driver’s good “rocking” skills, the car was soon extracted. I asked if we could help them with their car and they assured us that wasn’t necessary. They had four-wheel drive.

My client wound his way through the plowed area of the parking lot and into the main road. He was not a happy camper. But the road didn’t seem slippery, and at our slow speed, we weren’t sliding around at all. The main trouble was seeing the road. Everything was white and the road surface perfectly matched the white snowbanks on either side. Visibility was probably about 1/4 mile. The airport’s weather system was reporting freezing fog and now I knew what that looked like.

When we reached the junction of Highway 12, we stopped. There was no one around us in any direction. From inside the car, it was impossible to see if the road had been plowed at all. So I got out to take a look. It had been plowed, but not recently. It had tire tracks on it. It looked doable.

But before I could begin convincing my client/driver to continue on, a beat up old pickup truck made the turn onto our road. Because we were stopped in the middle of the road, he pulled in on our right side, facing into incoming traffic (if there had been any). He got out and told us we needed to be off the road. The conversation went something like this:

Him: You need to get off the road.

Me: We’re just checking road conditions. We’re going to the airport.

Him: Do you know where that is?

Me: About a mile or two that way. (I pointed into the whiteness of Route 12.)

Him: You need to turn around and go back.

Me: We can’t turn around here.

Him: Then I’ll call a tow truck.

Me: We don’t need a tow truck. We’re not stuck.

Him: Then I’ll call the sheriff.

Me: Why?

Him: You need to get out of the road.

Me: We will. We’re just looking at the road conditions before deciding what to do.

Him: I’ll call the sheriff.

Me: [exasperated and tired of maintaining a pointless conversation with a self-important moron] Go ahead.

Meanwhile, my client was beginning to freak out. He’s not American born and although his English is good, I don’t think he was able to keep up with our rapid-fire exchange. He did, however, hear the word sheriff twice, and he assumed we’d done something serious enough to possibly get arrested.

Him being freaked out wasn’t helping matters. He already was worried about continuing on the road. Now we had this jerk partially blocking our car, talking to someone on his cell phone. I needed to get to the airport. I knew it was possible. I had to convince my client. Finally, all I managed to do was convince him to let me drive. But the jerk was still blocking us. Tooting the horn had no affect.

That’s when I got pissed off.

I got out of the car and walked around to his window. I could tell by his uniform shirt that he worked for a gas station or something. I asked him where he worked and he said he worked for the tow truck operator across from our hotel. (Figures.) I told him I didn’t like his attitude and would be talking to his boss. He held the phone out so whoever was on it could hear me and I repeated loudly at the phone, “Your attitude sucks and I’ll talk to your boss about it.” I started to walk away, but then turned back and said, “Now get the fuck out of our way.” (Once a New Yorker, always a New Yorker.)

As I walked away, he got back out of the truck and started shouting at my back. “Well, I’m also the fire chief in [redacted] and on the EMT team and — ” I didn’t hear the rest. I was already in the car with my door closed. He, of course, didn’t move. Instead, he made a big show of walking behind the car, apparently to get our license plate number, further freaking out my client. I had to carefully make my way around his piece-of-crap truck, avoiding the deep snow bank on my left as well as I could. Then I made the left turn onto Route 12 and headed toward the airport.

The going was easy. But what really surprised me is that the airport road was plowed. The only problem was the snow bank from our road to that one. So we got out, leaving the car in the middle of the deserted road, and worked on it. I discovered that a floor mat, when wielded by two people, works very well as a scraping shovel. I turned the corner and saw a big front-end loader coming toward us. The airport guy was using it to plow the road. We stopped and talked to him. He said there wasn’t much snow at all on the helicopter. Then he told us where we could turn around safely past his house down the road.

We continued to the airport and were very surprised to see that there was hardly any snow on the helicopter at all. The wind was doing all the work for me. All those worries for nothing. We stopped and talked to the airport guy again. He volunteered to keep an eye on the helicopter and clear snow off it needed. He was a good, reliable, friendly guy. I felt all my worries fade away as we said goodbye and headed back to the hotel.

Act III: Black Ice

If you’ve ever driven in fresh snow, you might know that some snow is actually quite easy to drive in. It’s the stuff that’s not too wet and not too dry. It packs under your tires as you drive but doesn’t turn to ice in the process. That’s what we’d been driving on until we got to the airport road.

The airport road, however, was freshly plowed. Maybe it was the sight of that clean black pavement on the road in front of me that gave me the confidence I needed to drive at 20 miles per hour rather than a more conservative 10 or 15. Unfortunately, what I didn’t realize is that I wasn’t looking at pavement. I was looking at the half-inch layer of solid, smooth ice that sat on top of it.

Black ice.

There’s a tiny bend in the airport road before you reach Route 12. It’s so slight, it doesn’t even show up on a map. As I turned the wheel to the left to make this bend, the tires started to skid. My client reacted by saying the appropriate frightened passenger words. I pumped the brakes gently and, for a second, had it under control. Then more skidding and more right seat panic. My brain shut off and my foot pressed the brake down hard. Then it was all over.

Snow BankIn slow motion, the car skidded nose first into the snow bank on the right side of the road.

Shit.

It was stuck good. I couldn’t even get it to move an inch in either direction. The front wheel drive tires were sitting right on some of that black ice and all they could do was spin. We worked on it for a good ten to fifteen minutes, even putting the floor mats behind each tire in case it moved. No joy. And I do mean that literally.

We retreated into the car where I tried to get the airport guy on the phone. He didn’t pick up his cell. I called another number on the airport’s voice mail message system and reached a guy in Las Vegas. He was the airport guy’s boss. He said that he was out on the plow (which I knew) and probably couldn’t hear the phone ring. I told him our predicament. He told me to call 911. I said, “No, this isn’t an emergency. We’re in a warm car with plenty of gas within sight of Route 12. One way or another, we’ll get out without emergency assistance. Let them take care of heart attacks and accidents.” I think he was surprised by my take on 911. I asked him to mention us to the airport guy if he happened to call back.

I thought about calling AAA and realized that they’d likely call the jerk I’d cussed at and he’d likely not come. (Yeah, yeah, save the lectures.)

I started walking back toward the airport while my client yelled at me to stay in the car. I had to slip and fall twice on that damn black ice before heeding his words.

I tried the airport guy a few more times. On the third time, he answered. I told him our predicament. He told me he’d be right out. I told him to take his time. Warm up, have some coffee. We could wait. My client agreed. “Bring a shovel, though,” I added.

He showed up about 15 minutes later with his big front-end loader and turned it around so its back end faced the back end of our car. Then we hunted around for a place to tie onto the car. In the old days, imports — this was a Mazda — had these loops on the front and back of the car to tie them down during the boat ride from Japan. This one didn’t have those. But he found a loop on the frame. Trouble was, his chain wasn’t long enough to reach it.

He climbed back into his rig. By that time it was snowing very hard and the wind was blowing it almost horizontally. When he came back, he told me he’d made some calls and couldn’t get chain long enough to do the job.

“What do you think our options are?” I asked him.

“Well, I called the rental company for you and they said they could send a tow truck for $45.”

I’d already told him about our confrontation with the jerk. “The same tow company that guy I had a fight with works for?”

“I can ask them not to send [redacted jerk’s name],” he promised, grinning at me.

“Then do it,” I said. “I’ll pay $45. Cash if they want it.”

He made the call. I overheard him say, “You have to send [redacted jerk’s name]?” and I said, “I’ll pay $75 if they don’t.” He laughed and said, they’re just pulling your leg.

Call done, he told us to wait in the car. My client had been shoveling snow the whole time. I told the airport guy to go back and we’d be okay. He said he’d stick around just in case [redacted jerk’s name] showed up. I offered to let him wait with us in the car, but he preferred the backhoe.

We got back in the car. My client was really freaked out by the snow accumulation and the prospect of driving back to the hotel. That surprised me because he lived in Chicago and was no stranger to snow. But he told me that at home he had a truck with some sort of special snow driving gear. I didn’t get the details, but it seemed that he was convinced such special equipment was required for driving in the snow.

Whatever.

I just felt like an idiot for skidding into the snow bank and getting stuck. I know nothing had been damaged other than my pride, but I resolved to rent my own car on any future trips to shield my clients from the consequences of my stupidity.

Act IV: The Happy Ending

The tow guys showed up a while later and [redacted jerk’s name] was not among them. One of them asked me if I was the one [redacted jerk’s name] had a fight with. I admitted I was and we all had a good laugh. It took some work to get the car out and all three of the guys helping us nearly fell on their butts because of the damn black ice. Every single time one of them slipped, they’d comment on it. It was really nasty stuff. When the car was out, they said they’d be just as happy if we paid via AAA — in other words, making it a free tow — and urged us to do so. That worked for me.

I told the airport guy that I owed him big time but he insisted we were even. Even? How? I hadn’t done him any favors. At least not yet. I’ll think of something and if I don’t come up with a good one, I’ll leave my friend Ben Franklin on his desk before I fly out on Monday.

My client drove back with me pointing out the road. He was still having trouble seeing it. The tow guys followed us. We went into the gas station where my client took care of paperwork. He told me he would put it on his AAA, but he wound up paying instead, worried that he’d need the tow again later in the day and knowing that AAA doesn’t respond twice in one day. (I’ll put a $45 credit on his bill for this job.) I slipped each of the tow guys $10 in plain sight of [redacted jerk’s name] who appeared outside as we arrived, apparently looking for sunglasses left in their truck. We all ignored him. (In real life, as in online forums, the best policy is usually to ignore the assholes.)

Meanwhile, my jeans were completely soaked and I was starving. My client and I went into Ruby’s for breakfast. While we waited for coffee, he urged me to check out the boots they had available in the adjacent store. I went into the store, but instead of looking at the boots, I found a pair of sweatpants. I used the fitting room to peel off my jeans, surprised that the leggings beneath them were dry. I put on the sweats and went right to the cash register, picking out a pair of socks on the way and carrying my wet pants and newly washed sneakers. “I’m buying these now,” I told the cashier, reaching into the back and pulling the price tag off. We had a good laugh as she rung me up. It was the first time I’d ever spent $16 on a pair of socks, but desperate times require desperate measures. I was back at the table before my coffee was cold and received the scolding delivered by my client because I’d come back without new shoes.

I changed my socks while my client was outside having a smoke and I was at the table waiting for our meals.

Breakfast was typical Ruby’s. I’d like just once to get a good meal with good service there.

My client dropped me off at my room before venturing into the park. Visibility is so low that I think it’ll take quite some time for conditions to improve enough for photography. But that’s what he’s here for.

Me, I’m just along for the ride until it’s time to fly.

And yes, I’ll keep my hands off his rental car.

Five Reasons Why My Next Phone Will Be an iPhone

Yes, I finally took the plunge.

Regular readers of this blog think I hate the iPhone. That is not the case. I hate AT&T. From their crappy coverage to their even crappier customer service, I won’t voluntarily give that company another dime of my money ever again. Hell, when I made my split with them years ago, I even sold my stock.

I actually like the iPhone. And, since buying an iPad last April, I like it even more. After all, isn’t an iPad like a big, fat iPhone without calling capabilities or a camera?

I was eligible for a new phone on my Verizon plan on December 23. I’d been considering several Android phones and the Motorola Droid 2 was likely to be the winner.

And then the Verizon iPhone announcement came.

I gave it a lot of thought. I was worried that Verizon would attempt to squeeze higher fees out of customers for the privilege of using the most coveted smartphone in the world. So I waited to learn more about pricing, etc. Hell, I’d lived with the BlackBerry — which still worked fine — for nearly two years; I could wait another few weeks.

Eligible for UpgradeThis morning, I went online to the Verizon site. When I logged in, I was greeted with a message telling me that as a “valued customer,” I was eligible to upgrade to an iPhone first and could get the phone as soon as February 10. I followed a trail of information by clicking a bunch of buttons. I was surprised that the 16GB iPhone 4 would cost me the same as the Droid 2. I clicked some more. I was surprised that an unlimited voice/text plan was available. And that adding up the plans I needed would cost me less per month than I was already paying with my 2-year-old BlackBerry Storm.

When I began entering a credit card number, I knew they had me. Moments later, it was too late to turn back.

But I do have five valid reasons why my next phone will be an iPhone.

  • Smart Phone. It was absolutely necessary for me to buy a smartphone — and the iPhone is one hell of a smart phone. It gives me access to my address book and calendar data and lets me add the apps that I needed to get my work done. And there are plenty of apps. (No, Angry Birds will never be installed on any of my devices.)
  • Easy Syncing. The iPhone will sync address book, calendar, and e-mail data transparently with my Macs. The Droid would have required 3rd party software or clunky syncing with Google services that I don’t currently use. The syncing alone was enough to sell me on the phone, even if it cost more.
  • Familiar Interface. I have an iPad. I struggled with the interface for a short time when it was new. Why? Because it’s based on the iPhone interface, which I didn’t know. So my knowledge of the iPad interface means I already know 95% of what I need to use the iPhone. I admit that I dreaded facing the learning process for an Android phone; now I don’t have to worry about it.
  • The price is right. The iPhone cost me the same as the Droid would have but gives me so much more (see previous three bullets).
  • I am an Apple User (and stockholder). I’ve been using Macs since 1989 and have been writing about them since 1991. People who know me for my Mac-related work are always shocked to learn that I don’t have an iPhone. It isn’t individualism, I tell them. It’s the simple fact that AT&T cannot deliver the kind of service I need for my only means of communication. (Yes, we dumped the land lines at least two years ago.) Now I can meet the expectations of my peers without sacrificing my own communication needs.

February 10 is just a week away. Four years and two phones — Palm Treo 700p and BlackBerry Storm — after the original iPhone was announced, I’m finally joining the throng.

I feel oddly unexcited. Could it be because I know what so many others won’t admit?

It’s just a phone.

February Needs More Days

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Ever have one of those months where there just aren’t enough days? We all say that about February — mostly because it usually only has 28 of them — but even if it had its full share, it wouldn’t be enough. Mine is booked solid.

Want a glimpse of what my work/personal life is like right about now? Here’s the bullet point edition:

  • I have two chapters left to write on a book I’ve been struggling to finish since November. Part of the problem was that my editor didn’t seem to take much interest in the project, which led me to feel much the same way. Now, of course, they want it done already (as they should) and I also feel the same way.
  • One of my other publishers suggested a topic for a brand new book for them. I need to come up with an outline and make contact with the public relations person for the software company to see what kind of support I might be able to get from them.
  • That same publisher is gearing me up for a revision of my Mac OS X book for Lion. That book, which I also do layout for, has a brand new look, requiring a new template and mindset.
  • Another publisher is making noises about another revision for another project. I’m think it might be pretty far out on the horizon, but I need to chat with them about needs and scheduling.
  • AircraftOwner Online has announced that my monthly article deadline is now the 12th of the month rather than month-end.
  • I’m under contract to write two more articles (that I keep putting aside) for a Web publication. I won’t get paid for the first one I wrote (last year) until I hand in these two.
  • One of my aerial survey clients wants a 1-2 day wildlife survey flight in northern Arizona next week. (This just popped up today.)
  • One of my aerial photo clients has booked a 4-day photo flight in Arizona and Utah for mid-month. The flight requires me to obtain permits for flying low level in three different national parks. (And yes, one of them is the Grand Canyon. Wish me luck.)
  • I have to drop off my helicopter for its 100-hour inspection in Mesa, AZ; a few days later, I have to pick it back up. I also have to hope there’s nothing wrong with it that would prevent me from picking it up on time.
  • I have an FAA Part 135 check flight scheduled near month-end.
  • I have a day trip to Sedona scheduled near month-end.
  • I have a week-long vacation in the Bahamas with my husband. (A business trip for him; a chance to breathe for me.)
  • I have to drop off and then pick up Alex the Bird from his boarding facility before and after the vacation.

Get the idea?

You might have noticed that blogging does not appear anywhere on this list. That’s not a mistake. Blogging falls very low on the priority list. So low, it doesn’t even appear on lists. So this might be the only original blog post you see for quite a while.

Just thought it fair to warn you. This is going to be a very long short month.

And who says freelancers don’t work hard for a living?

The State of Macworld Expo

The end of an era? Looks that way to me.

When Apple announced, two years ago, that it would no longer attend Macworld Expo, lots of people said the announcement was Macworld Expo’s death knell. Like some other people, I thought that opinion was a both harsh and premature.

I don’t think that anymore.

On Friday, I did a presentation as a member of the Macworld Expo Conference faculty for the first time in at least eight years. I used to speak at Macworld Expo all the time, having at least one session in San Francisco and Boston (and later, New York) and even Toronto from about 1993 through 2002 or so. Back in the early 2000s, IDG took over the show and the conference management changed. They also went off in a new direction that stressed the creative aspects of working with the Mac. I was always more of a productivity person, so I didn’t fit in.

I still went to the show once in a while, but not very often. I came a few years ago, mostly to meet with one of my publishers. But that was it.

Looking back at it, I realize that I was deep in the Mac world at Apple’s first peak in popularity. The shows — especially in San Francisco — were huge. The very biggest shows took up both exhibit halls of Moscone Conference Center. All the big vendors were there — Apple, Microsoft, Adobe, Macromedia, Claris (later FileMaker), Quark — the list goes on and on. The show floor was buzzing all day long. The noise was deafening and there was a pure adrenaline rush on first entering the exhibit hall. And the products introduced! Even my husband talks about innovations like the Video Toaster (which, ironically, I believe ran on an Amiga). I remember all of Apple’s big hardware and software releases and the software demos that were both educational and entertaining. And how could I forget the Boston show where Mac OS 8 went on sale and my first Mac OS Visual QuickStart Guide sold out?

Afterwards, the parties would start. They were amazing affairs — the Exploratorium is a good example; the party sponsors rented the entire facility, leaving us to wander around and play with the exhibits. There was headliner entertainment, too: one year was Chris Isaac at one party and Jefferson Airplane at another. There were cruises and bungee jumps at Boston Harbor. There were full food, open bar parties at the top of the Fairmont in San Francisco. As one of the B+ list speakers/authors (in those days, anyway), I’d party hop with my peers. I remember one year bouncing from one party to the next with Bob Levitus, who always managed to get into all the parties, whether he had tickets or not.

Things change. Apple took a serious downturn. Things looked bad. Then Steve Jobs came back. The original iMac breathed new life into the company. More products followed. I remember seeing hundreds of buses all over San Francisco skinned with images of five colors of iMacs. But despite Apple’s subsequent successes, Macworld Expo was never quite the same. The show began to shrink.

What I saw on the show floor this year was a shock. The show was tiny — by old standards — occupying about half of one floor at the relatively new Moscone West building. At least 80% of the items on display could be classified as accessories — mostly protective or decorative covers — for the iPad and iPhone. There were very few Macintosh items.

Macworld Expo had become iAccessoryworld Expo.

Although most of the folks I spoke to about their thoughts on this matter seemed to agree with me — some more strongly than others — the members of the Macintosh press that I met there were surprisingly upbeat about it. One of them even commented that Microsoft’s support for the show is a good sign. Support for the show? They didn’t even have a booth! Having a party for a chosen few and being one of the sponsors on another party isn’t the kind of support I’d be upbeat about.

If I had travelled to San Francisco for the sole purpose of seeing the show floor — as I know many people did in the past — I would have been sorely disappointed. Disappointed enough to demand my money back. What I wouldn’t be able to get back was the travel time and expense and the three hours of my life spent trying to understand how so many accessory developers could think there was a market for yet another version of an iPad case. Or skin. Or screen protector.

The real value in Macworld Expo was the conference sessions — now more than ever. The conference management assembled a collection of experts — some old timers like me, some younger and newer to Mac OS (and iOS, of course) — and offered a variety of interesting tracks and sessions for Mac, iPhone, and iPad users.

My session about building your iPad for business was relatively well attended — the room was about half full. I received a handful of follow-up questions and a polite round of applause at the conclusion of my talk. Several of the attendees came up to the front of the room to thank me or offer complements. It was like the old days, but on a much smaller scale.

After all, Friday’s room could have held only about 100 people when, in the past, I did sessions that packed a room that seated more than 300.

And the meeting room area at Macworld Expo used to be busier than a high school hallway between classes each time a session let out. Now only a few dozen people meandered about, shuffling from room to room.

At least these people got something worthwhile for their money.

I know these are harsh words and, as a member of the Mac community with a long Macworld Expo history, it’s hard for me to type them. The conference faculty was treated quite well, with generously filled swag bags, a comfortable place to rest between sessions, and both breakfast and lunch every day. The session rooms were relatively well equipped. It’s hard to share negative opinions about Macworld Expo when IDG staff responsible for the conference part of the show treated me well. But if this blog post precludes me from ever speaking again at a Macworld Expo, so be it. I don’t sugar coat anything and I’m certainly not going to sugar coat this.

While I realize that the old days are long gone, I think that if IDG can’t do better than what I experienced this past week in San Francisco, they should throw in the towel on Macworld Expo and concentrate on better ways to share valuable information with Mac OS and iOS users.