Photography – Page 9 – My Second Running Life

Running, Across the Iberian Peninsula

Our trip to Portugal and Spain offered ample opportunities for us to explore the region on foot, and we did just that. Working our way from Lisbon to Barcelona, we made sure to include a run in each location. As many readers will attest, there is no better way to see a new place than at running speed. We had some memorable runs (camera in hand, of course) and faced only a few minor challenges along the way. Here’s a summary.

Lisbon

The Portuguese capital was a charming place to start our Iberian tour. The Praça do Comércio and the Tagus River were just steps from the Pousada Lisboa Hotel. We did an easy out-and-back run to the Ponte 25 de Abril, enjoying magnificent views along the way. We decided to turn around before reaching the impressive modern Museum of Art, Architecture and Technology (MAAT) in Belém. We knew that we wanted to visit the area later in the day so we could explore the sights more fully. We were thrilled to see so many fast and fit runners on the (cobbled!) pathway.

And here’s what we saw later in Belém (but not running):

The spectacular Museum of Art, Architecture and Technology

2. Faro

We fit in a short run during our stopover in Faro, the capital city of the Algarve district in southern Portugal, which let us see the morning activity along the waterfront. Fishing boats were returning to port, and clamdiggers were taking full advantage of the low tide as the sun rose. The temperature was already climbing as we returned to our comfortable room among the narrow, cobbled streets of the old town.

3. Seville

Our first stop in Spain was a revelation. The capital of Andalucia is brimming with Spanish character. Our apartment was a few blocks from the historic Puente de Isabel on the beautiful Guadalquivir River. We were treated to many sights on our early morning seven-kilometre run. Rowers and runners were out in force, all with the same thought of avoiding the heat of the day. Unique public art, several famous monuments and contemporary architecture were all to be found along the route. Our turnaround point was the lush Maria Luisa Park, the gardens next to Plaza de España, and one of the many features in Seville that were constructed for the 1929 Ibero-American Exhibition.

We started from the historic Ponte Isabel II in Sevilla

Torre del Oro, one of the sights along the Guadalquivir River

4. Granada

Our challenge in this historic city was to find a flat spot to run. From our apartment in the Albaicin neighbourhood we had a panoramic view of the most famous feature of the city (the Alhambra, a massive Moorish fortress and palace), but it was also a steep, twisty and cobbled kilometre away from the city centre. As a result, we decided to enjoy a leisurely walk down to the Avenida de la Constitución before starting our run. A few laps of this pedestrian-friendly mall made for a pleasant outing. We didn’t see many other runners during our early morning run, but we did get a chance to say hello to statues of many famous people from the region.

5. Madrid

We were impressed by the capital city of Spain as soon as we arrived at the handsome and historic Estación de Atocha. This very walkable city of 3.2 million people is crammed with sights, including the world-famous Prado Museum. We found surprises around every corner. When it came to planning our run, we were pleased to see that the Hotel Fénix Gran Meliá in the Salamanca district was a few minutes away from the Parque de Buen Retiro, possibly the most beautiful urban park in Europe. A lap of the gravel path around the park was 4.5 kilometres, leaving us with enough energy to check out the Estanque del Retiro, a spectacular artificial pond and monument. Aside from the Retiro, there are many other green spaces to explore in Madrid. We were disappointed to learn that a hugely popular 10k race (Corre por Madrid) was taking place on the morning we left the city. Maybe next time!

Julia, a monumental sculpture by Jaume Plensa

Just one of many picturesque spots in el Retiro, Madrid

6. Barcelona

Our stay at the Hotel Casa Fuster in the Gracia district of Barcelona was a highlight of the trip. Our fifth-floor view was dominated by the Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s Modernist masterpiece. We intended to run an out-and-back route on via Diagonal, a pedestrian avenue near the hotel, but road construction and a close call with a taxi changed our plans. While looking for an easier route, we took a couple of wrong turns and found ourselves staring up at the iconic church. Breathtaking! We thoroughly enjoyed our stay in the capital city of the Catalonia region. The Sagrada and the Picasso Museum were well worth a visit. Overall, it was a fitting end to our travels.

Skyline Trail: One Less Bucket List Item

We were halfway into our Skyline Trail hike when Dan asked me a question.

“So, how long have you wanted to do this hike?

I had to think for a minute.

“I don’t know exactly, but it was long before you were born. Let’s say 40 years.”

To be truthful, I’d given up the idea of tackling this epic 45km trail in Jasper National Park. It seemed less likely after my health problems, and considering how much effort it would take to organize the required overnight backcountry camping.

That was before I mentioned my bucket list item to my son, Dan. Next thing I knew he had sent me an email with possible itineraries and dates, complete with a packing list and even his menu suggestions. He’d already booked the campsites.

I realized I had no reason to say no. We were going to Jasper on the August long weekend!

I went into rapid preparation mode, starting with some shorter hikes and an actual backpack (my old Arc’teryx Bora 65). I bought some missing gear, which was almost as much fun as the hiking. Deb did us a huge favour by organizing our food into about a thousand convenient Ziploc bags. We were off!

We would do the hike in 3 days, in the typical south-to-north direction, from Maligne Lake to Signal Lake. The trail crosses three passes and gains 1,400 metres of elevation. Our days would increase from 8 km to 13 km to 26 km. I was secretly worried about that last day; I didn’t want to be the guy they had to rescue by helicopter.

As it turned out, I got more comfortable with my pack each day. The trail was perfectly maintained. I handled it all well. Dan was an amazing trail companion and a totally confident backpacker. He did all the planning, all the cooking (including the most unexpected and awesome birthday cake ever), and most of the hauling. There were only a couple of times I felt I was holding him back. I did decline his offer of a quick side scramble up Curator Mountain though.

The scenery was spectacular, especially on either side of the third pass, The Notch, which at 2,500 metres is the highest point on the trail. We had an early start on day 3, and my mantra was “Notch by nine”. I told myself the climb was just another tough interval workout. It was fascinating to see how each pass opened up very different vistas and microclimates; from lush green valleys to moonscapes. There were great B&W landscapes everywhere you looked. (I had the capable and compact Ricoh GR III with me.)

We knew there was a chance of thunderstorms as we approached the final campsite, Signal. Suddenly, the sky darkened around us. I forgot all about my aching feet, as our attention shifted to one goal… getting to a lower elevation.

Fortunately, the sky cleared, after dropping some large but harmless raindrops on us. That left us only with the monotony of an 8-km fire road to finish the hike.

Overall, it was the fulfillment of a lifelong dream, and best of all, a chance to spend a few memorable days with a wonderful person.

An Ideal Photo Run

Today’s photo run was perfect.

The weather in Calgary has taken a turn. I was about to write “for the worse” but since this is a blog about running, I’ll leave that comment off. Let’s say that we have seen a change, from something approaching “too hot” to “good running weather”.

Cool temperatures and drizzle often have a way of dampening (pun intended) my enthusiasm for a run. But one thing I’ve learned is that I need to look beyond those feelings and get myself out the door. Today was no exception.

After a block or two, I knew I had made the right call. The Elbow River pathway was quiet, and the river was looking fine. The sun was trying its best to make an appearance. I knew the light would be good for photographs, so I brought along my trusty Ricoh GR III.

One spot I’ve gone by a thousand times but have had trouble capturing is the small garden on Elbow Drive at 30 Avenue SW. It’s an attractive little spot but I’ve always found something challenging about the composition. Today, though, the combination of the soft lighting, misty conditions, and the new foliage was magical. I stopped and grabbed a couple of shots without a second thought. Later, I tried Lightroom’s infrared preset and got a result that I think was very cool. I hope you’ll agree

Almost back home, and content with the run (and the photos), I passed a leafy corner and noticed two eyes peeking out from between the hedges. Closer inspection revealed that it was, in fact, the headlights of a Triumph TR3 sportscar. At least I think it was a TR3. Maybe a car expert reading this piece can confirm its pedigree. In any case, it was a scene that made me smile, and a fitting way to end my run.

Enjoy.

Leicaphilia Loses its Creative Force

Tim Vanderweert passed away in early January. I need to say a few words about him, and the impact he had on me. In this digital world, it seems a stretch to say Tim was a friend because I never met him. I only knew him through his online presence and a bit of interaction we had through his blog, Leicaphilia. One thing is certain – I wasn’t the only person who was influenced by Tim.

It’s funny how things go sometimes. About five years ago, I was putting my life back together after a medical episode that left me wondering what my future would look like. Competitive running, which had been a constant presence in my life for more than four decades, looked like it might be taken away forever. I wasn’t sure I could cope with that prospect.

I had always had a passing interest in photography, but to be fair, it had never gone beyond a teenager’s early fascination with the gear and amateurish attempts to emulate the great landscape photographer, Ansel Adams. Boxes of family snapshots, as great as they are, attest to the fact that I focused more on quantity than quality. And that was fine, as I had limited time for hobbies, for all the usual reasons.

Fast forward to 2017. Adrift after a lengthy hospital stay and amid much uncertainty, I picked up my old Canon AT-1–that’s a totally manual film camera by the way–and started carrying it with me on my slow recovery walks around the neighbourhood. For years, I had cruised through the same streets at a faster pace – apparently fast enough that I hadn’t seen things that were right in front of my eyes.

My interest in photography was being rekindled but I was rusty. So rusty that I had missed the whole transition to digital photography, which had made film cameras obsolete. At least that was the conventional wisdom.

And then I discovered Leicaphilia, and its creative force, Tim vdW. Here was a guy, about my age, who had dedicated as much of his life and energy to photography – Leica-based film photography no less – as I had dedicated to competitive running. Different hobby, same passion. I liked him immediately.

The more I delved into Tim’s writing and creative output, the more our connection grew. I especially liked the fact that he steadfastly defended the turf of film photography against the onslaught of digital. Pixels didn’t matter an iota to him. It was more about the emotional impact, the art, than about the technical features of the latest camera. And on that point, Tim had the knowledge (and the courage) to state his views and share his thoughts. He wrote eloquently about the philosophical underpinnings of photography, about topics like aesthetics. His knowledge spanned centuries.

I had never read articles that tied the Greek philosophers to this hobby. But as a returning student, I was more than willing to learn. His lucid posts entertained me (and his other devotees) while they educated me, complete with photographs from his archives and his bike rides around North Carolina. He put together a book of his photographs taken from inside cars – it was called Car Sick – and I bought not one but two copies. (You see, he had made it abundantly clear to his readers that he had lost his shirt on the production of the book. I wanted him to keep going.)

When Tim announced to his readers that he had cancer, we all held our breaths. It looked bad. For a time, he stopped posting. Eventually, he informed us that he was in hospice care, with only a few days to live. Except he didn’t die. He got better, at least for a while.

In the last few months of his life, he gifted his anxious audience with constant posts, full of clear writing about his situation, and yes, some excellent photography. With a creative flourish, he turned his attention to developing the hundreds of rolls of film that had accumulated in his house. He even put together an exhibition of his life’s work.

And now he is gone. Tim showed us all how we might try to face the grim prospect of our own impending death, with grace and purpose, and good humour. As we go through the ups and downs of our own lives, we should all hope to have as much positive impact on those around us.

My first reaction to the news of his passing was to load a roll of his favourite film (Kodak Tri-X) into my Leica M6 and shoot some street photographs, hoping for his spirit to walk with me as my muse.

Tim will be missed.