Tag: Photography

Return to Prairie Mountain!

Just as Santa can be counted on for a visit in late December, we look to my friend Tim to reveal the details of the annual Prairie Mountain Winter Sunrise Hike. True to form, Tim set the date for the 2025 hike on December 29. Sunrise on that day would be, within a few seconds, the latest of the year.

Working back from a target of 8:39:33 a.m., our convoy of eight hikers met up at the Tsuut’ina Subway on Buffalo Run Boulevard at 6:10 a.m. With practiced efficiency, we were geared up and on the trail by 7:00 a.m. We expected to have ample time to reach the summit.

I’ve posted on our previous PM hikes, and I’m pleased to say these pieces have been popular. In 2023, I shared photos of a beautiful sunrise in Part 1: The Hike and delved into the mysteries of the celestial world for Part 2: The Science. We were not deterred by last year’s cloudy conditions—you can read about that hike here. This year’s forecast suggested that the star attraction would likely make a return appearance.

For readers who are unfamiliar with Prairie Mountain, it is the most accessible mountain for Calgary hikers. Accessible doesn’t mean easy, though—this is a good workout at any time. Last year, I noted that the hike seemed to be tougher than what I remembered. This time out, I had the same feeling. I’m not sure I like that trend! One foot, then the other. Repeat.

The Hiking Bit

Given the snow-packed conditions on the trail, I was (again) very thankful for the new stone steps on the toughest sections. Even so, I welcomed a short pause at the first lookout, where we switched off our headlamps. I couldn’t help but notice the vibrant orange light to the east, which was already impressive as we approached the summit ridge. Were we too late?

Because any PM summit is an impressive achievement, here’s my Strava activity summary.

A few words on equipment. I decided to bring my “good camera”, the totally manual Leica M10. It’s a wonderful camera, but when you are bringing up the rear in the dark, as I was, adjustments are challenging. That meant I came home with blurry shots of my hiking partners’ backsides and severely underexposed images. Overall, I think the Ricoh GR III is better suited to this task. As always, my Kahtoola Microspikes and ancient red Komperdell poles were a necessity.

As usual, our group set a steady pace. (I hang around with some very healthy folks.) It’s hard to blame my comparatively slow pace on my photographic duties unless I present a few photos. So here’s the evidence!

Note: Copyright for all pictures is mine

We enjoyed the relatively mild temperature (-5C) and the shelter of the treeline for most of the hike. However, as soon as we reached the summit ridge, we were immersed in a strong westerly wind. We slogged the rest of the way up the ridge. The small Canadian flag on the summit cairn was no match for the stiff breeze. We headed for the shelter of a few scraggly trees below the summit to wait for the rest of our group. With fingers losing feeling, operating cameras and zippers became almost impossible. There was no loitering at the top on this day!

The Technical Bit

Given the challenges I mentioned with manual camera settings, I thought it might be interesting to present a comparison of my pre- and post-editing for one of this year’s key PM shots. I suppose this is called making lemonade out of lemons.

Of course, everyone hopes for a good group picture at the summit. This year, we imposed on a solo hiker who reached the summit just ahead of us to do the honours. Now, my comment that “the settings should be fine” must be tempered with the reality that I didn’t actually look at these before handing over the camera. Yes, I was freezing, the wind was howling, and for all I know, he had never touched a manual camera before. I’m fully to blame for any technical shortcomings. That said, my heart sank when I saw the images straight out of the camera. However, with some comprehensive (and slightly desperate) work in Lightroom Classic, I managed to extract a passable image. You can compare the before and after image here:

A hardy group celebrates another Prairie summit!

At the risk of losing some readers, I’ll summarize the edits I made to this image in my attempt to rescue it. First, I increased the overall exposure significantly—a whopping 3.5 stops. I think the meter was fooled by the sun in the centre of the image. Then I dropped the sky by a stop, and raised the foreground by almost another stop. I raised the white balance to warm the image up slightly. I dropped the highlights, mostly around the sun, and raised the shadows. Then I increased the saturation, clarity and dehaze. That left me with a noisy image, which I tried to fix using the latest AI tools in Lightroom. In the end, I gave up, as all this did was create artifacts that were, to my eye, worse than the noise.

So, as long as no one looks too closely, this is a fair reminder of what it felt like to stand on the summit that morning. My homework for next year is to be better prepared.

Wrapping Up

With the start of a new year, one is often moved to contemplate things that truly have value and be thankful for people who are important in life. I’m very fortunate to be surrounded by like-minded people who value fitness and friendship. And we are all blessed to have special places like Kananaskis just a short drive from home. Thanks, Tim, for getting us out there and up there again.

The annual winter solstice hike was a great experience and a perfect end to the year. Oh yes, the post-hike coffee and baked goods at the Handle-bar Cafe in Bragg Creek were delicious. And well earned.

Until next time, be well, BE FAST—and Happy New Year to all!

Meet “The Flâneur”

Introduction

I’ve been writing this blog for nearly three years. Over that time, I’ve thought about whether the site is achieving what I intended when I wrote the first pieces. Indeed, it’s worth asking whether my initial objectives have changed—and if so, how.

My soul-searching is timely because my friend Phil Davies recently approached me with some thoughts on the blog and my other social media content. Phil has a keen eye and a strong artistic sensibility. He volunteered his opinion that my Instagram profile may not be totally accurate:

Runner. Observer. Stroke survivor.

Phil questioned my use of the word observer. At first, I wasn’t sure what he meant, because he had always been complimentary about my photo runs. For those unfamiliar, photo runs are a cornerstone of My Second Running Life—they make this blog what it is. As an example, here’s a piece I wrote about my run in Longview a few weeks ago.

For me, there’s nothing better than going out for an easy run with no worries about time and pace, seeking only a memorable photograph. I look for different things—colour, pattern, contrast, human interaction, irony—and observer was the word I settled on to describe what I do on these runs.

Phil went on to explain that there might be more to this process than observation. He even jotted down some thoughts, which I present here as my first guest submission on the blog. The photographs are mine, but Phil selected the pictures he wanted to accompany his writing.

In nineteenth-century Paris, the flâneur was a stroller who transformed the act of walking into an art form; moving leisurely through the city, observing its ebb and flow with an artist’s eye and a philosopher’s curiosity. Armed with nothing more than time and attention, he understood the city itself to be a living canvas, constantly repainting itself.

Steve’s approach to running and photography is a modern embodiment of this classic figure—using movement through the city as a form of creative engagement rather than mere exercise or transit. His curiosity and his keen eye allow him to see the extraordinary within the ordinary.

The flâneur’s genius lies not in destination but in observation—he reads the city like a complex novel, deciphering the social codes written in architecture, fashion, and gesture. In the Parisian context, this meant lingering in the arcades, studying the interplay of commerce and desire, watching how different classes of people navigated the same spaces with entirely different purposes. The flâneur sees what others miss because he moves at human speed rather than the hurried pace of those bent on efficiency. 

Transported to Calgary among the gleaming downtown towers and the sprawling neighbourhoods stretching toward the Rockies, the flâneur’s eye discovers different rhythms and revelations. He might capture the interplay between the city’s frontier heritage and its contemporary energy—perhaps pausing to photograph how the morning light catches the glass of a modern office building while casting shadows on a historic sandstone church. My friend Steve embodies this Parisian tradition, combining the flâneur’s contemplative wandering with the practical purpose of his runs. His camera serves the same function as the flâneur’s notebook—a tool for capturing the moments that define urban life; transforming the ordinary act of moving through space into a form of creative observation.  In calling Steve a flâneur, I celebrate something valuable but increasingly rare in our hurried world—the importance of moving through our environment with alertness, engagement and appreciation.

– Phil Davies, December 2025

These boots were made for walkin’…! (Calgary, December 2022)

Concluding thoughts

Until my discussion with Phil, I would have said that I wasn’t doing anything different from any other street photographer, except that I’m moving faster than most of them. When I’m cruising the streets, I do so with thoughts of my photography idols in mind; people like Fred Herzog, Elliott Erwitt, and Saul Leiter. I wish I could be one-tenth the photographer that they were.

I also move through the streets with a clear purpose. I welcome the creative tension that comes with choosing a location and then watching for promising scenes to develop in front of me as I’m running. Many times and for many reasons, I’ve missed a shot that I wish I’d captured. But that’s alright, because sometimes I come home with a treasure. I can’t ever be too hard on myself about this, given the parameters I’ve set for myself.

In the end, it may not matter what label I use—flâneur, observer, or something else. Phil, you’ve helped me see that this process of roving exploration is well worth the effort.

An Ansel Adams Inspired Photo Run

Knowing that Weaselhead Park would be in its full autumn splendour this week, I decided to do a short photo run starting in North Glenmore Park.

Here’s the Strava record of my out-and-back route through the Weaselhead Flats. It’s a beautiful place to run at any time, but especially at this time of year.

I recently had an idea for a new series, highlighting my favourite photographers. As I trudged up the hill at the far corner of Weaselhead, where the path heads into a pleasant birch forest, I realized I had my first subject: Ansel Adams. Adams is a good choice, given that he was the first photographer who came to my attention after I purchased a film camera as a teenager. I’ve admired his photographs for years. And when I saw the white trunks of the birch trees, two specific images popped into my head.

But first, let me introduce Adams.

Ansel Adams: Photography Legend

Ansel Adams (1902-1984) was an American photographer and environmentalist. As a young man, he showed talent as a pianist. However, he decided to pursue his early interest in photography, even though at the time that was hardly a sure career path.

Adams is best known for dramatic black and white landscape images, many of which were shot on large glass plate negatives. He also developed innovative and disciplined approaches to capturing and printing images. He formalized the use of the Zone System, which allows the photographer to realize what they saw in the scene, based on analysis of the tonal ranges in the image. 

Given the sheer number of Adams’ iconic images, it would be difficult to settle on my personal favourite. I’ve always admired his Clearing Winter Storm (1944) and Monolith, The Face of Half Dome (1927). His photograph of Denali—Mount McKinley and Wonder Lake (1944)—is brilliant. These images matter because they illustrate Adams’ deep commitment to preserving some of the great natural places in the U.S.

Even though they aren’t what he is best remembered for, Adams’ portraits are remarkable, too. His candid shot of Georgia O’Keeffe and Orville Cox (1937)—shot with a 35mm camera—may be my favourite of all his images. So, regardless of which image we look at, it’s easy to see why Adams is regarded as one of the greatest American photographers. 

Georgia O’Keeffe and Orville Cox (1937)

Aspens, Northern New Mexico (1958)

There’s a book by Adams that I’ve turned to dozens of times for inspiration. It’s called Examples: The Making of 40 Photographs. Adams takes the reader on journeys that culminate in the images in his book. He sets the scene, explains the equipment he used, and the process of creating the final print. It’s far more than a how-to manual. What I appreciate most about the book is Adams’ honesty. Many times, he admits to making errors in his camera settings or finds he’s created challenges for himself in achieving the result he wants. These are refreshing admissions by a person we may think of as being infallible. 

Two images in Examples are relevant to this piece. Aspens, Northern New Mexico (1958) is a pair of complementary photographs, one vertical and the other horizontal. Adams shot them with an 8″x10” camera using a yellow filter, which would have lightened its own colour (yellow) and darkened its opposite colour (blue). He typically printed the images in very large format, up to 30″x40″. Adams describes these as “quite satisfying statements”, “cool and aloof and rather stately”. I’ll say! He also writes that they are good expressions of his philosophical approach to photography, in that he was able to express what he saw and felt in the scene. 

And so, today in Weaselhead

At the risk of embarrassing myself—-we can agree that Adams is a tough act to follow—-let me turn to my own attempt to capture what I saw and felt on today’s Weaselhead photo run. It was a similar day to what Adams described for his Aspens: a crisp autumn day. The birch forest was in full fall colours. Even better, the sun was trying to make an appearance after a short rain shower. There was no wind. In other words, the prospects were good. As usual, I had my Ricoh GR III in hand—no 8″x10” cameras here. 

I could see what Adams had to deal with, given all the colours of autumn: reds, yellows, purples, greens. A colour photograph would certainly have impact, but my worry was that it would end up being an incoherent riot of colour. Because digital photography gives us some huge advantages over Ansel and his glass negatives, I’m able to let my readers decide for themselves.

I’ll start with a vertical shot. I did some masking in Lightroom to bring out the trees at the front of the image and give some separation against the busy background. Using Lightroom’s simulated filters, I boosted the yellow channel to brighten the leaves. As is often the case, I prefer the black and white version.

Weaselhead Birch Forest – Vertical (Sept 30, 2025) (Copyright: Steven Kelly)

Moving on, I looked for a scene that might work in horizontal format. My idea was to have some prominent leaves in the picture, as on the left side of Adams’ image. I found a grove with a dense grouping of trees and a splash of green on the left of the frame. I don’t think this was the perfect example, but you know, I was in the middle of my run. I snapped my shot and carried on. Later, I darkened the left edge and the foreground to accentuate the trees that were in sunlight. Again, I prefer the monochrome version, but I’d like to hear from any readers who have an opinion.

Weaselhead Birch Forest – Horizontal (Sept 30, 2025) (Copyright: Steven Kelly)

Wrapping Up

My photo run was short but productive. I headed to this spot because I hadn’t been there for a while, and I wanted to see the fall colours. Once I got to the birch forest on the south side of the reservoir, Ansel Adams’ iconic images popped into my head. It encouraged me to slow my pace and look around. And what I found was well worth the effort. I may even try to get back there with a film camera and tripod—and without my running shoes!

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Hello Vancouver!

CALL Health and Wellness Speaker Series

I’m thrilled to announce an upcoming event with the Calgary Association of Lifelong Learners. I’ll be doing a presentation of my memoir on September 22, 2025, at the Varsity Acres Presbyterian Church. See the details below.

The Calgary Association of Lifelong Learners (CALL) is a member-led, non-profit organization. Their mandate is to facilitate lifelong learning for residents of Calgary and area. Programs and activities are wide-ranging, focusing on arts and culture, society and politics, and health and science.

My presentation will be part of CALL’s Health and Wellness Speaker Series. I look forward to telling the story of my lifelong connection to the great sport of athletics and my recovery from a series of strokes in 2017. As my regular readers will know, I wrote about running, health, and recovery in Stroke of Luck: My Life in Amateur Athletics. The opportunity to meet with groups and clubs is by far the best part of this project. I’m gratified to be able to share my main messages:

  • The importance of an active lifestyle
  • Awareness of the full range of stroke symptoms
  • Raising funds to support the lifesaving work at the Foothills Stroke Unit

If you are interested in joining us on the 22nd, or if you’d like to find out more about CALL, please reach out to them here. I hope to see you then!

A Quick Visit to Vancouver

Our vacation planning this year has been somewhat ad hoc. That’s resulted in a series of short trips to some unexpected locations: Moose Jaw, San Diego, and Edmonton. But rather than being a problem, it’s been an opportunity. So much so that we are looking forward to doing more of the same in the months to come.

Last week, we decided to make an impromptu, short trip to Vancouver. There’s never a bad time to visit Vancouver, but our timing was especially good. We were in the city for two perfect days. While most of our trips to the city in the last few years have had us staying in Kitsilano or Yaletown—both fine locations—we opted for downtown this time. 

Deb suggested that we stay at the new Azur Hotel on W Pender Street. The Azur is one of the Leading Hotels of the World, and she was curious about it. We’ve enjoyed stays at several LHW hotels—the Azur is one of only a few in North America. It was a great decision. Everything about our stay was excellent. The hotel feels quaint, and it exudes style. The staff were amazing. They treated us like royalty. The amenities were excellent, and the included breakfast was delicious. 

We enjoyed walking through Gastown and along the waterfront at Canada Place. Of course, watching the Harbour Air seaplanes taking off and landing is always fun. We took the SeaBus across Burrard Inlet to North Vancouver and checked out the latest exhibits at the Polygon Gallery. We both thought the large-scale astronomical photographs by Thomas Ruff, a German photographer, part of the current Star Witnesses exhibit, were a highlight.

Food and drink? Well, you can’t go wrong with a coffee and doughnut from the 49th Parallel cafe on Thurlow, so we did that. And for dinner, we enjoyed a meal at the bar in the Blue Water Cafe in Yaletown. I had the Yellowfin Tuna, and Deb chose the Arctic Char. Both were delicious.

Some Vancouver Street Photography

Now, it wouldn’t be an outing worth talking about if there weren’t a few photos to share. With my trusty Ricoh GR III in hand, I caught the occasional street scene. Here are some examples:

When we’re in Vancouver, we always think about Fred Herzog. For those who aren’t familiar with him, Herzog was a Vancouver-based photographer, active in the 1950s and 1960s. He’s one of our favourite photographers, and a source of inspiration when I’m walking the streets of Vancouver. Herzog mainly shot with a Leica rangefinder using Kodachrome colour film, and his photographs reveal much about the character of the city during that era.

Although it isn’t fair to say Herzog was unknown during his lifetime, his work is really only getting the credit it deserves now. That’s due in large part to the efforts of the Equinox Gallery in Vancouver and the Trepanier Baer Gallery in Calgary. Here’s the cover of Fred Herzog: Modern Color. It’s a superb collection of Herzog’s photographs, published in 2017 by the Equinox Gallery. The image on the cover happens to be my favourite Herzog photograph.

This gives me an idea for a new blog series: My Favourite Photographers. I think Fred Herzog will have to be my first subject. Look for that soon! 

While writing about the GR III, I’ll mention that Ricoh has just announced the GR IV (and discontinued the GR III). I’m definitely interested, although it might be said that on first glance, the specs are only marginally better than my current one. That said, my camera is now four years old, and I’ve noticed that it seems to have accumulated a lot of dust on the sensor. This problem is a known issue for the GR III. I thought I had avoided the problem until I looked closer at my shots from Vancouver. I probably shouldn’t be surprised, given how I handle (mishandle?) this camera on my photo runs. C’est la vie!

On that note, I’ll sign off. Thanks for reading. Until next time, be well and BE FAST!

Edmonton Marathon Report

In what has already been a memorable year for racing, the 2025 edition of the Servus Edmonton Marathon may have delivered the most excitement. And I haven’t even been racing!

Deborah and I decided to make a quick weekend trip to Alberta’s capital city for a couple of reasons, the main one being a chance to see Dan race in the Half Marathon. For a short time, I entertained the idea of signing up for the 5k—that was until my dodgy Achilles decided the matter for me.

It was a thrilling weekend. We enjoyed soaking up the atmosphere around race headquarters at the Edmonton Convention Centre. It was also a busy weekend, with various festivals going on around the city, in addition to the race. We had forgotten how lush and green the Edmonton river valley is.

To the action

All the distances at this year’s 34th edition of the event were popular. Across all the races, more than 8,000 runners signed up. On a perfect day, sunny but not too warm, 1,200 runners started in the main event, the Servus Marathon. The Healthcare Solutions Half Marathon was the biggest event by far, with over 3,000 runners toeing the line for the 7:45 a.m. start. By the way, the HM served as the Canadian championship race, so the field was big and the elite field was very deep. The Army 10k took place later in the morning, with a field of 1,800 runners, and the Family 5k Fun Run rounded out the day.

Dan competed in the HM with the Canadian Armed Forces CISM Elite Running Team. For those unfamiliar with CISM, it’s the Conseil International du Sport Militaire, or the International Military Sports Council. Founded in 1948, CISM is one of the largest multidisciplinary organizations in the world. CISM organizes various sporting events for the armed forces of its 142 member countries.

Canada’s armed forces are active in many sports through CISM, and each year the athletics team is one of the largest. In Edmonton, 13 CISM runners competed in the HM and 10k, and they all turned in excellent performances.

My vantage point on Jasper Avenue was ideal for photographing the action on the fast out-and-back course. The bright sunshine created both opportunities and challenges behind the lens, but I did manage to capture quite a few worthy shots. The finish in the men’s race was as close as you can get, with Rory Linkletter nipping Cam Levins at the wire, in just under 63 minutes. Lauren McNeil of Great Britain took the women’s race in 1:11:25. My Adrenaline Rush Athletics teammate, Jen MacPherson, won the F55-59 age group, in a very speedy 1:38:35, as she builds to a fall marathon. Well done, Jen!

Here’s a sample of photos from the Half Marathon:

The men’s Marathon was won by Alberta running legend, Kip Kangogo. On the women’s side, Kristen Spady was the winner. The 10k didn’t disappoint, with lots of fast times and great competition. The winners were Courtney Hufsmith in the women’s race and Yahye Mohmaed Jama for the men. Another Adrenaline Rush athlete, Gord MacPherson, ran his goal time of 54:58 while balancing his training with his other summer passion, golf!

A few more snaps from the 10k and marathon:

The CISM Team rocks!

Having Daniel and his teammates involved added a whole new dimension to our spectating. Fortunately, there was also plenty to cheer about. Our task was made easier because we could pick out the distinctive red and white singlets from a long way off. Here’s a small sample from the many impressive performances recorded by CISM racers on Sunday.

Now, I can’t move on to my final subject before mentioning one story that came out of the Half Marathon. To set the scene, Daniel (@stridesandsummits) started strong for the first third of the race, but felt he had more to prove. As it happened, he met up and teamed up with Canadian marathon record holder, Natasha Wodak. For the rest of the race, they worked together to crush their respective goals: Natasha took home the Canadian Half Marathon title (1:11:40), and Dan notched a solid PB of 1:11:35. Way to go, Daniel and Natasha!

Natasha Wodak powers to the Canadian title!

Yes, there is a personal connection!

It seems I have a connection to a lot of races, and that includes the Edmonton Marathon. Deb and I moved to Edmonton in the dark, cold days of December 1984. By the summer of 1986, I was confident enough to sign up for what was then called the Northlands Klondike Marathon. I recall it being a short-lived effort to get a marathon going in the city.

This was my third attempt at the distance. My previous efforts had been less than successful, based on how dissatisfied I was with my performances. Things did turn out a little better for me on this warm July day. I finished 19th out of 139 finishers, running for the Edmonton Roadrunners—check out the vintage singlet. My time of 3:01:27 was tantalizingly close to the magical 3-hour barrier. Looking back, I figure the heavy New Balance 990s I wore must have cost me about 5 minutes—not exactly supershoes!

So there you have it. Another eventful day at the races. For those of you who ran, congratulations! For anyone thinking about it, the Edmonton races are now a solid fixture on the Alberta race calendar. See you there in 2026?

Until next time, be well, and BE FAST!

In Praise of Japanese SLR Cameras

This is a totally useless piece.

Useless, that is, if you carry a camera around with you at all times, one that is instantly available in your cell phone. Or if the link between your camera and your social media accounts is as short and quick as pressing a button. 

Some of us have a broader definition of a camera, or think of photographs for something more than their transient value.  

My collection from the heyday of Japanese single-lens reflex (SLR) film cameras is a small treasure. It’s unbelievable these cameras work so well after 40 or 50 years. They are flawless machines. Sure, there are foam seals I should replace. And some of the batteries are getting hard to find. But overall, they’re doing better than I am after all that time! 

Canon AT-1

The Canon AT-1 invokes many fond memories for me. I bought mine in 1978 with savings from my first job. My aunt Connie worked at the Sears store in the Centre Mall in Hamilton, and she made the purchase so I could benefit from her employee discount. I remember paying $265. It’s odd to think that Sears used to have a photography department… but I digress.  

When I bought the AT-1, I didn’t know anything about cameras or photography. I learned the basics of shooting film—metering exposure AND focusing in a completely manual camera. (The AT-1 was never as popular as the automatic variant, the AE-1, but I was on a budget.) Once you’re used to it, manual metering is simple. It’s a bit like target practice: move the exposure needle by changing aperture and/or shutter speed until it lines up with another needle indicating the measured light. Like learning to drive a car with a manual transmission, this is a good skill to have!

Manual focusing brought its own challenges, especially if you were keen on shooting sports, as I was. Sure, I missed plenty of shots, but I also felt the thrill of getting many more.  

The AT-1 feels solid, and its viewfinder is big and bright. Canon FD lenses mount to the camera with a secure metal ring. Because it was my first camera, I’m biased towards its controls, which are accessible and well laid out. I will admit, it now feels slightly bulky compared to the other cameras in this review. 

For years after I bought the camera, I pored through photography books and magazines. When I could afford it, I added lenses to the f1.8/50mm that came standard with the camera. For a short time, when we lived in Edmonton, I even set up a darkroom in my basement. I give this humble camera a lot of credit for instilling in me a lifelong interest in photography.  

Olympus OM-2

I ended up with a parallel camera kit to my own after my father-in-law Kurt’s passing. Where I was invested in Canon, he was an Olympus guy. His outfit was built around the Olympus OM-2, a highly regarded automatic camera manufactured between 1975 and 1988. I also inherited several lenses. 

Kurt and I shared our experiences; mine with Canon and his with Olympus. He used the OM-2 a lot. He was a stickler for getting composition and lighting just so. Naturally, I think of him every time I pick up the camera.

The first and most impressive feature about the OM-2 is its small size. It’s light but doesn’t feel cheap. The OM cameras were designed by Yoshihisa Maitani, something of a legend in photographic circles. The OM-2 is noticeably smaller than the AT-1. I can see there were some compromises to make the camera and lenses so compact. For example, the aperture has only full steps rather than half steps. While I like the way the camera feels in my hands, I do find the controls slightly cramped.

From my experience, the OM-2 is close to perfect. It has a bright viewfinder and some novel features. It can be operated in Aperture Priority mode or manual mode. Did I mention I like shooting in manual mode? (I admit it’s great to have the option of setting the aperture and letting the camera do the hard work.) 

My only quibble with the OM-2 layout is that the shutter speed dial is next to the lens barrel, rather than on top of the body. I find that illogical. Or maybe it’s just different than the setup on the AT-1 (or most other SLRs). 

The OM-2 is very accurate when metering a shot. I mainly shoot B&W film with it, and I am always impressed by how well the lenses render urban scenes and street shots.

The Olympus name has mostly disappeared—it was absorbed into the “OM System” brand five years ago. Let’s call it a casualty of the cellphone camera trend. Even so, the OM-2 has earned a special place in my collection. I hope it keeps working as long as I do. 

Minolta X-700

The Minolta X-700 is another small miracle. This particular one belongs to Deb. She got it from her parents as a Christmas gift. She used it for a few years, then it was relegated to a closet. Dan dusted it off for a school photography course when we lived in England. I remember buying him a 28mm lens to go with the original 50mm lens. 

The X-700 was the pinnacle of Minolta’s manual focus SLR line, and it was very popular. It was manufactured between 1981 and 1999, which is a long production run. The features of the X-700 are impressive. In addition to manual mode, it has Aperture Priority mode and a Program mode that integrates with Minolta MD lenses. It’s got a compact shape and it’s very light. The LEDs in the viewfinder are genius (with one downside). 

In my research for this piece, I learned that Minolta used plastic for some components of the camera. That goes some way to explaining its weight, and also why the camera feels less substantial than the other two in this piece. It’s also noisy when the shutter is activated. It’s worth remembering that by the mid-1980s, the SLR market was crowded, if not saturated, and autofocus cameras were starting to hit the market. No doubt that would have detracted Minolta’s attention away from their manual focus line. 

To this day, the X-700 remains a great camera. I like the feel of it in my hand, and that isn’t a coincidence. Size-wise, it fits in between the Canon and the Olympus. 

My main beef comes when using the X-700 in manual mode, where the user gets shutter speed information in the viewfinder. Why is that a problem? Well, the same LEDs I mentioned force the user to look away from the subject to see and adjust the shutter speed. It’s fine for landscapes or other static subjects, and fortunately, one can always switch into Aperture Priority mode and fire away. 

By the numbers

For what it’s worth, I did a few measurements… here are the bare facts:

Canon AT-1Olympus OM-2Minolta X-700
Weight, grams
(w/28mm lens)		780715690
Size, cm
(W x D x H)		14.5 x 10.0 x 9.013.7 x 8.3 x 8.314.0 x 9.5 x 9.0

Wrapping up

So, the obvious question… which of these cameras/systems do I like the best? That’s a tough question. If I had to choose one, it would be the OM-2. I’m a fan of small and light cameras, and this one definitely delivers. That said, I like each of the cameras for different reasons. You can tell I have emotional, physical and intellectual attachments to these marvelous machines. That’s why I make it a point to include all of them in my rotation. For me, there’s no better feeling than loading a manual SLR with a favourite film (or a new one) and heading out for a photo walk. As long as they keep working—and they are so well made, there’s no reason to expect them not to do so for a while yet—I’ll happily reach for one.

Until next time, be well and BE FAST!