3 Jan
2011

Posted in: General, Lake Michigan
By Ian Plant    14 Comments

A Week in the Life

Ever wondered what it is like to be a full-time professional nature photographer? Here’s a snapshot—please pardon the pun—of what a typical week in the life can be . . .

Day One: I have a one-week gap in my schedule around the holidays so I decide to head out to the Great Lakes region to do some winter photography. I get up at 3AM and hit the road. I drive for 13 hours, from my home in Virginia, to Michigan. I’m trying to get to the Upper Peninsula and the shores of Lake Superior by sunset, but it becomes clear to me once I near Detroit that I won’t make it in time. So, I switch plans, and head for the eastern shore of Lake Michigan instead. I take a look at my map, and decide that Muskegon State Park looks promising. I cross my fingers and drop my foot on the gas pedal just a little extra. I make it to the park with time to spare, and hike along the shore looking for interesting ice. After about a half-hour of exploration (not nearly enough time), I settle on some interesting fingers of ice reaching out towards the setting sun. I start making images, but my camera—which I dunked in the Virgin River in Zion National Park almost two months before—starts acting twitchy. I guess that the water-damaged camera doesn’t much like the cold. After sunset fades, I drive two hours to Grand Rapids, which happens to have a good camera store, and purchase another 5D Mark II camera. From now on, I’ll be using the dunked camera as a back-up. I drive for another few hours, going as far north as I can, hoping to get closer to Lake Superior for sunrise. At about 10PM I finally hit my limit, and settle in at a hotel in Gaylord, Michigan.

"Winter's Grip" - Muskegon State Park, Lake Michigan

Days Two through Five: Unrelenting gray skies. I drive on average four to five hours every day, bouncing back and forth between Lakes Huron, Michigan, and Superior, desperately looking for something interesting to shoot, but to no avail. The light is simply completely uncooperative. I do almost no shooting, and none of what I do is any good.

Day Six: Up for sunrise at Tettagouche State Park in Minnesota, on the northern shore of Lake Superior. According to the weather forecast, it is supposed to be sunny, but I awaken to what has become in recent days my constant companion—cloudy skies. There is a small gap on the eastern horizon, but it seems too small to let in any real light. I have an eight to nine hour drive to my afternoon location on Lake Michigan (I need to start driving back towards home), so I am worried that I won’t get there in time to shoot sunset—winter days are extremely short. I decide to abort my sunrise shoot, as conditions seem dismal, and start my long drive in order to ensure I am on location in time for sunset. After driving twenty miles away from my scouted sunrise location, the sun crests over the eastern horizon and shines brightly for a few minutes before ascending into the clouds. The light is actually somewhat decent, so I start slapping myself for leaving my sunrise shot. It wasn’t that good, however, and who knows what the light would have looked like at the spot I had scouted, since it was twenty miles north of my current location. But at this point I am desperate for light, any light, so I’m really pissed off at myself. Oh well, nothing to do about it but press on. I eventually get to my sunset location, but the clouds have completely cleared and I have nothing but sunny skies. Almost as bad as having cloudy skies! I make a few decent images that evening, but nothing that is really interesting. After sunset, I drive for five more hours to get closer to home, and to put myself in a position to photograph Lake Huron in the morning.

Day Seven:  I get up two hours before dawn and drive to a state park on Lake Huron. When I arrive, the skies are clear. I head out onto the nascent ice pack, carefully probing my way with an ice axe to make sure I don’t fall through. At some point I realize that the ice floes I am standing on have only recently fused together, but the bonds are weak, and the floes heave slightly with each incoming wave, and water bubbles up through the seams. I get a little nervous, but the ice supports my weight, so I set up my camera and wait for the light. While waiting, clouds start rolling in. I’m convinced that the Great Lakes make their own weather, and in winter the weather of choice is overcast. The sun makes a brief appearance before being overwhelmed by the incoming clouds. I don’t really get any good shots. When I’m done, I head back to my car and begin the long, twelve hour drive back home.

Seven days on the road. Over 3500 miles driven, almost $4000 in expenses, and one lousy picture that is worth half-a-damn. Welcome to the life!

More From Ian Plant Dreamscapes

• A Week in the Life: Glacier Bay Day 6
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• A Week in the Life: Glacier Bay Day 3 | Ian Plant Dreamscapes

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About Ian Plant  (275 Posts)

Ian Plant's photographs and instructional articles have appeared in a number of books, calendars, and magazines, including Outdoor Photographer and Popular Photography. Ian writes a regular blog column for Outdoor Photographer online, and he is the author of numerous instructional eBooks and digital processing tutorials. Ian leads several photo tours each year.