Not Everything Lands
I had so much fun on my last road trip that when the message came through regarding the Leica Society Spring Shoot in Tucson, I decided to attend and make a road trip out of it. This would be my first time attending one of the their meetings and I thought a drive through the Mojave desert on the way down might make for some interesting photography. It turned out I was right, but the magic of the previous trip never quite showed up on this one. What I discovered was even more important.
An informal meet and greet was scheduled for 5:30pm on Wednesday evening, so if I left Monday morning, that would give me three days to make it down to the southern edge of Arizona from Sacramento.
I was a bit trepidatious making Vegas one of my stops. My biggest problem on these road trips is my “get-there-itis.” Once I start driving, I don’t like to stop. I want to get to my destination as fast as possible. On a photography road trip, that’s a big problem. To help quench this natural impulse, I saved my most anticipated stretch for day two of the trip.
My first target was Victorville. I anticipated the abandoned gas stations I never saw on my previous attempt at cruising down Route 66 in Arizona. Apple Maps took the back way to Victorville which I suspect caused me to miss a few that I had anticipated seeing. In place of gas stations were plenty of Joshua Trees. I had to consciously talk myself into stopping to grab a few photos of some.
All I keep wanting from Route 66 is a frigging abandoned gas station. Where the fuck are they? The funny part is, if I ever found one, I’m not sure I would actually photograph it. It’s been done to death. But therein lies the challenge for me. Shoot something that’s been saturated with photographs and find a new angle, some unique light, and present something previously unseen.
I expected some cool photos in Victorville, but as I drove through the town I just kept on going. I found a cool diner on the outskirts, however. From there I was on old Route 66 on my way to Barstow. It was on this road where I took not only the best photograph of the trip, but one of my favorites of all time. There were a few small towns that I had stopped at and was getting infected by just wanting to just get moving. As I drove through a curve in the road I noticed a bunch of boxcars stopped on the tracks. One of the cars caught my attention but I had already passed it. Backtracking would cost time. Doh! Thankfully, I talked some sense into myself and turned around.
There are many photographers, especially on YouTube, who film themselves spending tons of time getting ready for a shot they are composing. I do not, and cannot, work that way. I parked my car, walked to the edge of the road, focused, and snapped two frames before getting back in my car and moving on. Time to compose and shoot photo: 30-45 seconds. I will concede that having over 25 yeas of experience allows me to work so fast and still get such a nice shot. But still, I can’t imagine taking longer than 5 minutes to compose something. I’m not dinging anyone who does, it’s just something my brain cannot handle.
It was 3 hours to Vegas but I did stop at Peggy’s 50’s Diner on the way. I highly recommend it if you’re in need of serious kitsch. I will definitely stop there again if I’m passing through again.
Once I got to Vegas, the camera went away for the evening, which is why I knew it was a bad idea to make Sin City a stop on this trip. I just don’t feel like shooting when there’s drinking, gambling, and eating to be done. I mean, I was on a road trip, right?
Fucking Vegas. I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t really get back to sleep. It might’ve been the cigar and cognac near the end of the evening. In any case, I was not in a good headspace as I began the 6 hour drive down to Tucson. And for those who may be planning this route in the future, I would recommend finding a different way than going from Kingman down to Phoenix. What a shit show of a road that was. I was dreading coming back that way (Turned out going hone was through a different route, thank God).
At some point in time, I had planned on visiting the Saguaro National Forest on the way down, but since I didn’t give a shit about anything other than just getting there, it didn’t happen. Besides, there were plenty of the cactuses on the side of the freeway.
I had finally arrived at my destination and all I wanted to do was turn around and go home. This is how big an impact very little sleep has on my brain. I just do not function without a good night’s snooze. Fortunately, I still had time to take a nap before the informal get together that evening. This was the biggest reason I did not stop at Saguaro National Park. I knew I needed some time to sleep and get into a better headspace. That, for me, was more important than seeing some Wile.E.Coyote cactus.
My nap over and my head somewhat clearer, I headed downstairs. I was excited to be amongst fellow Leica enthusiasts and fellow drinkers of the Kool Aid. It started off as expected. I walked up to the table and found the badge with my name and was immediately greeted by a past President who took me aside and wanted to hear a bit more about me. This was how I expected the rest of the evening to unfold. Unfortunately, another attendee came along and interrupted our conversation and I moved away to let them talk.
For a good fifteen minutes I found myself standing by myself outside of a several small circles of people looking for an opening, both physically and strategically. Being 6’4” and 340 pounds does not allow me to sidle into a group subtly. Eventually I found a couple of people to stand and talk with for the rest of the evening. I even got a little “First Time Attendee” ribbon affixed to my badge and was told I would be fighting off people welcoming me.
That expectation never materialized. Everyone at the conference was kind and open, but I eventually realized there’s a difference between being welcomed and feeling it. While most of the attendees were having one of the best conferences they’ve ever attended, mine turned into more of a quiet observational and internal one.
The next day, I woke up refreshed and motivated. The big hurdle the first full day was getting through the member introductions. We each had to stand up in front of the room, microphone in hand, and say our name, where we’re from, and what we like to shoot. My snarky, perfectly crafted retort of “I shoot stuff” went over like a lead balloon. Add another brick to the wall.
After some fantastic presentations and a lunch break, we headed for Tombstone. I was a bit trepidatious about this expedition. I shoot in Old Sacramento practically every week, and it predates the town of Tombstone by a good 25+ years. So even though it was a famous town and inspiration for the set of one of my favorite movies, I was hedging my expectations somewhat. Not to mention, the one hour plus ride on a bus to get there a day after a six hour drive.
Once in town, we were treated to a private gunfight show after hours. It was funny, entertaining, but just a bit long. In any case, once the show was over, I booked it out of there to explore the town (and miss out on the group picture). The light was great as it was getting late in the afternoon into early evening, however, a lot of the shops were closed and there were not a lot of people milling about. I would say Tombstone was a good experience, overall, though, as it’s always good to see new places, no matter your expectations.
This might be a good time to talk about my finger. On the drive down to Tucson, I noticed the middle finger on my right hand was tender at the tip. I knew I had to have an ingrown nail forming. Great. I followed protocol and soaked it in warm water for 15 minutes 3-4 times per day. But each successive day, it was getting fatter and fatter, redder and redder, and more and more painful. By the second full day of the conference, it was a bit of a distraction.
After more wonderful presentations on Friday, we pretty much had the day to ourselves. There were a couple of planned events, but it was up to us to get there. The first one was visiting the Center for Creative Photography at the University of Arizona. We had a nice lecture and then were on our own for the rest of the afternoon. I took the opportunity to walk back through town toward the hotel.
It was hot and my finger really started to bother me so I stopped by CVS to get some Neosporin and some band-aids before continuing my journey. I wish I could say I discovered a lot of photographic opportunities, but frankly, there were few. It was likely the part of town I was walking through but I just didn’t find Tucson that interesting. To be fair, there was a neighborhood south of the hotel many talked about being cool to see and I also never made it to Old Tucson, so my experience of the city was narrow.
Still, by the time I got back to the hotel, I was pretty much done. I decided I would pack up and leave in the morning, skipping the last day of the conference. I had two days of driving ahead of me, my finger hurt, and my motivation had vanished. There was an event later that evening at an artist’s loft, which was cool, but I left after a short while.
My camera was put away and there would be no stopping for Saguaros or anything else. The route home was faster than the one coming. A straight shot to LA and then a little less than five hours home the next day. It took about seven hours to get to Pasadena and I even contemplated pushing through all the way to home but decided against it. I knew I would be really dragging those last couple of hours.
When I woke up the next morning, my finger was not in good shape. I knew I had to go to urgent care before heading home. It was a Sunday and they didn’t open until 8am, so I got some breakfast and then got my finger drained. I’m glad I didn’t wait. The procedure was not fun but my finger felt much better on the ride home.
I think my last trip was so magical, so fulfilling, that I’m not sure how I actually feel about this one. This trip was messy, flawed, disappointing, and rewarding all at the same time. I’ve been struggling to come up with a conclusion and I don’t think there is one. Sometimes something just is.
If you enjoy my work, here are a few ways to show your support:
Buy me a coffee: Your support helps fuel my creative journey. https://buymeacoffee.com/davidmullin
