Savage Race Pennsylvania Poconos

Shooting for Savage Race is great. I meet thousands of people, I get real physical challenge while photographing, and I get to taste all the different types of mud from all over the country. What's not to love?

The last event took me to the Poconos of Pennsylvania. There was a good turnout despite the cold front that rolled through. The night before, temperatures were in the low 40s and they didn't get much higher than 55 during race day. My teeth were chattering while I photographed the ice bath, I don't know how the participants survived. Still, all the savages came out guns blazing and I can't wait to go back next year.

Here are some of my favorites from the afternoon. Next stop, Georgia!

Reunion: Cooperstown, New York

Cabin under the stars - Cooperstown, NY - Photo © Mac Stone

Each year, my friends from college and I make it a point to reunite and combat the distance that has us spread all over the country with new memories. My friend Post said it best after driving 9 hours from Ohio, "You never know what's going to happen, you just know it's going to be awesome." 

This year we picked upstate New York in Cooperstown where my friend Adam Sittler lives and we spent the weekend camped in a cabin up in the mountains. The only time we left was to go into town to participate in a Cooperstown tradition of a baseball/whiffle ball tournament, which lasted 8 hours. We took home the championship and then retreated back to the woods to celebrate.

That night was perfect. We explored the woods for hours, bouncing headlamps in the night finding all kinds of wildlife, until we emerged on the opposite side of the cabin. It was an incredible scene. The Milky Way stretched across the sky and polar fog veiled the mountain pond, illuminated by the amber glow of tungsten on wood. I ran back to grab a camera, composing a few images while listening to familiar stories echoing from the porch.

Who knows what we'll do next year, but this is going to be a hard one to beat. Long live great traditions.

Swimming with Alligators

Ok, before you start trying to nominate me for the Darwin Awards, read the post.

Meet Chris Gillette. Chris is a professional gator wrestler living in Homestead, Florida. He performs weekly shows at Everglades Outpost Wildlife Rescue and the Everglades Alligator Farm to teach the public about crocodilian behavior and what to do should you ever find yourself in a situation like the one pictured above. You might recognize him from the television show Gator Boys, but I met Chris through our small circle of South Florida adventurers, and after seeing images of him handling alligators the gears started turning on how I might be able to meet him in his element and make a few images of my own. I just bought an underwater housing so it seemed like a perfect way to break in the new equipment. I envisioned a relatively tame shoot where he handled what he called his "big puppy dogs" and my end goal was to create a series of images that showed a more docile side to these feared reptiles. Of course, things don't always play out as you plan them. 

The bad news broke early as Chris let me know that his favorite alligator had recently passed away and instead, we would be working with freshly caught, aggressive nuisance alligators from Big Cypress National Preserve. Great. The good news, however, is that the water was cold, very cold, so they would likely be disinclined to act out. Luckily I brought my wet suit. His girlfriend, Ashley Lawrence who also handles alligators, was there to help spot and make sure nothing went wrong. Admittedly, I was feeling pretty cavalier, because here I had two of the most qualified handlers watching my back and making sure the shoot went smoothly. Plus, I had seen them in similar situations plenty of times so I was hungry to get in the water and start making images. Chris quickly put me in check, saying that I should be nervous and that it was a little unhealthy not to be. It could have been the water temperature, but as soon as I submerged and entered their world, I looked head-on at a 9-foot alligator and peed my wetsuit.

Gator belly - Homestead, FL - Photo © Mac Stone

Before we got in the water, though, Chris told me what to expect. Since these gators hadn't been handled before they would be unpredictable and would likely resist being grabbed or approached. In the event that a gator charged me, he cautioned that I sit perfectly still and just act like a rock. I'll be the first to say that it's one thing to envision yourself in that situation, and something altogether different to actually perform. I was on SCUBA so I didn't have to worry about continually coming to the surface for air. I sat on the bottom, like a rock, just as Chris suggested. But when he reached for the first gator and it wiggled free, it made a bee-line straight for me. I braced for impact and the gator's snout slammed into my shoulder and kept swimming, as if I weren't even there. I looked up and Chris was treading water, smiling, with two thumbs up.  

I've grown up with gators and have had my fair share of close calls in the wild, but in this moment I was really proud of myself. Once I hurdled that obstacle, the rest of the shoot went smoothly. In fact, they were so comfortable with me, that one of the large gators even found a nice resting spot between my legs while I photographed another.  

It was one of the most invigorating shoots I've done and it gave me a new appreciation for the work that Chris, Ashley, Everglades Outpost and the Everglades Alligator Farm do for the public. Normally, these nuisance alligators would be euthanized. These businesses give the gators a second chance and in turn help reeducate the masses that our reptilian neighbors are not blood-thirsty man-eaters. They are the freshwater equivalent to sharks: misunderstood and in need of some good PR.

Weekends on the Fly

Micah Groeber hikes in to a favorite fishing hole - North Carolina

A wild trout stream is the one thing that competes for attention with my camera. When the fishing is good it's impossible to pry a fly rod out of my hands. I won't eat, I forget to drink water; I'm like a labrador chasing a tennis ball. While working as a fishing guide in Wyoming along the North Platte River I once watched a bear cross the river twenty feet in front of me and climb atop a rock, dripping wet and backlit in golden light and my camera sat idly in its bag all because a trico hatch had brown trout slamming my fly after every cast. Fly fishing is the ultimate vacation. Sometimes I can't even force myself to take pictures because I hate the idea of missing even a few moments of good water.

Micah fishing a favorite stretch of stream - Photo © Mac Stone

Recently I've gotten better at balancing the two and it's mostly by force. In the smaller streams of North Carolina there's simply not enough room for two people to fish side by side. So when I head out for a day on the water with good friend Micah Groeber, I get to be both angler and photographer. Plus, he gladly helps carry my underwater housing so long as I get photos of the action.

Colorful brown trout - Photo © Mac Stone

Lately, we've been getting into some really good streams. While most serious anglers head west for big fish, Micah and I have been finding some of the heartiest and most colorful native browns I've ever seen in the Blue Ridge. When you're pulling 20'' browns out of three feet of Appalachian mountain water, what's not to photograph? 

Brown trout - Photo © Mac Stone

Micah with his prized brown - Photo © Mac Stone

20'' wild brown trout - Photo © Mac Stone 

Outdoor Photographer Feature: Swamp Things

In case you missed it on the newsstands, Outdoor Photographer, one of the country's top nature photography magazines, just published a piece I wrote on America's swamps. I've been thumbing through this magazine for nearly twelve years picking up tips and reading insightful columns by some of the greats. I was really stoked when the magazine offered to print my story as it's increasingly difficult to find spread space amidst all the great landscape photographers of the mountains. If you'd like to take a look at some of the images and read the article follow the link here:

Outdoor Photographer: Swamp Things by Mac Stone

24 Hours in the Swamp

The Sentinel after a spring rain - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

I know I go on and on about how important our swamps and wetlands are for the hydrology of our southern states, but they're also one of the best places for wildlife and adventure in what's left of our lowcountry wilderness.  This month I took two friends, Darrin Hamlin and Van Whitehead from the mountains and brought them into the heart of old growth swamp within the Francis Beidler Forest to slog and explore. We met up with Audubon naturalist Rickey Covey on the second day and I promised Darrin, a dedicated waterfall seeker, that before the trip was over he'd understand why these habitats are my bread and butter. The swamp did not disappoint.

Here's what we discovered in just 24 hours:

From left to right, Van Whitehead, Mac Stone, and Darrin Hamlin around the "Sentinel" 

My first goal was to find the "Sentinel" which is one of the Beidler Forest's largest cypress trees. Scientists estimate this tree to be around 1200-1400 years old. You might recognize the tree from our Swamp Stomp video a few years ago. Since the interior is hollow, it's impossible to get an accurate age. Still, the way this tree dominates the forest lets you know it's been anchored here for a very long time.

Nurse log - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

 The spring is my favorite time to explore Beidler Forest. The greens are electric, the canopy is full of sound from songbirds and owls, and the water flows, leaving little room for mosquitoes to breed.

Emerging dragonfly - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

Tupelo - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

On this trip I used my 50mm f/1.4 for several landscapes to help isolate certain subjects. Normally, this would make the small ripples in the water to actually add extra noise to the image, but I added 9 stops of neutral density to get the slow speeds while maintaining shallow depth.

Tupelo and Cypress Island - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

  

Darrin Hamlin slogs through one of the main sloughs - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

Cypress sapling and Cypress Knee Window - Photo © Mac Stone

Brown Water Snake - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

Brown Water Snake - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

After the first night we looked at our maps and decided to head back further into the old growth swamp, getting into the deeper sloughs and exploring some of the more remote sections of Beidler Forest. We left at first light and got into some gorgeous sections of the swamp. While walking through one of the upland islands, we came across this mysterious feature.

Hog bed - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

I have never seen one of these before, but as soon as we approached the woven bed of palmettos, 6 piglets scurried across the ground. I had no idea that their parents put this much effort into their babies.

Piglets - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

Finally, the much anticipated rains let loose and the swamp came alive. Everything became more saturated and I hurried along with my camera like a kid in a candy shop. There is nothing more magical than photographing in an old growth swamp beneath a spring rain.

The Rains - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

Cypress Knee - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone 

Greenish Rat Snake - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

Whitetail Deer Fawn - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

Old Growth - Francis Beidler Forest - Photo © Mac Stone

Only 24 hours and we experienced all this beauty and wilderness. To think, most people associate swamps with a slew of negative adjectives. The highlight of the trip for me was after stumbling upon the whitetail deer fawn and Darrin turns to me and says, "Mac, I've seen more wildlife in the two days I've been here with you than I have in 10 years in the mountains."

Long live the swamp.