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1.03.08
Morning Dues
For photographer Austin Holt, a day at the office
means capturing stunning images during a pre-dawn climb on the rocky coast of
Maine’s Bar Harbor. So, how do you like your cubicle now?
text and
photographs by
Austin Holt
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Everything is
black, then white at once with the flick of a switch. Four a.m.
in Bar Harbor comes all too quickly. You can sleep when you die.
.jpg) This
4 a.m. Bar Harbor, Maine climbing session is my brainchild.
Insomniac doubling as a freelance photographer, I made the
suggestion yesterday afternoon. The sleeping bag I bummed in on
my friend’s foldout futon is stuffed, charging batteries are
feverishly bagged, gear is double-checked and the Civic is
loaded with crash pads. Later I will discover I lost my keys in
this 15-minute period . . . in the door of my locked car
. . . in Heidi’s driveway.
The ride to the rocks is a short one; the hike even shorter. A
headlight bobs down to the rocks shortly after our own lamps
stopped. Heidi’s friend Justin arrives with a coffee mug in
hand. He’s been up since 3:45. Who are these people?
My gear is relatively easy to unpack, harder to keep track of.
The sunrise is about an hour later than we calculated, leaving
time for some morning headlamp bouldering shots. No serious
elevation gains today; bouldering at the coastal Maine best
instead. The seagulls are pissed we woke them up. Justin and I
discuss cameras while Heidi stretches. Justin pulls up to the
wall and it’s game on.
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Short warm-up laps with groggy
conversation warm the morning. I’ve dragged more than $10,000 in camera
gear to a rock cliff overlooking Bar Harbor. Smart or stupid? Only the
resulting images can tell. The previous day I had done laps on the same
wall with Heidi. Mid-day shots have harsh light, but when filled with
small flashes they look golden. Heidi nails some difficult overhang to
finger jamb crack problems while a local seagull watches unperturbed.
We’re in his house and he isn’t moving. The coastal air is a killer
reminder for me as to how clean Maine is and continues to be, despite
overzealous tourists.
As the sun begins to rise, Heidi and Justin move down the rock face to a
particularly challenging overhanging section of rock. Less than a dozen
moves nail an upside start to pull over onto sandpaper shale.
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I’ve set up one of the monstrous flashes
to light Justin up like a Christmas tree against the creeping sun. He
sticks a painful hold, throws his leg up and over the overhang and
claims. Within moments a cruise ship that has been working its way down
the horizon begins to show in the background of all my shots. This
gorgeous morning with two solid climbers, and a cruise ship is the
background focus. Sometimes human invention sucks.
No more ship, and it’s time to lap the rock again. Stories are swapped
back and forth regarding locals old and young that session these holds,
cracks and gaps. Easy to imagine given that the full breadth of Acadia
is just around the corner. Kayakers blow by in abundance during daylight
hours, and another, more well-known locals’ spot is about a quarter-mile
down the road. Spots like this are generally conquered by individuals,
one at a time. A crew of three with strobe flashes and significant pad
layout at 4 a.m. draws onlookers by 6 a.m. A woman watches from the
high, coastal road, and a lobster boat circles closer. My flashes must
look like a serious breach of homeland security to the uninitiated. To
us it’s all good fun.
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Within hours we’re packed and sitting with
coffee in town. The camera comes out, necks are craned, shoulders hunch
and eyes squint. Thirty minutes later I’m headed towards southern Maine
with a smile on my face. I’ve been up for almost four hours with a
four-hour drive ahead, just to turn around and head to work. Isn’t
everyone’s work day like this?
Ж
 Ski
photographer, traveler and all-around nice guy
Austin Holt has been
published in N'East Magazine and Freeskier Magazine. To
check out more of his work, visit
aholtphoto.com. |
