Stories & Thoughts

Five Years Later /  by Laura Heald

I remember the first time I took a picture and thought, "Wow, I can actually do this." It was at the 2008 USATF Olympic Trials in Eugene, Oregon. The picture was of AG Krueger, a leading US hammer thrower. The camera was a Nikon D3; the lens a 14-24.

The sun was setting, and Bill was busy with finals on the track, so setting up the wide angle remote in the hammer cage became my responsibility. I was nervous. I had seen Bill set up remotes before and had even helped, but I had never been solely responsible for the success of the picture. I was still learning the ropes, so to speak, and I was learning by fire. Seven weeks later, I would be in Beijing assisting Bill at the Olympic Games.

One camera on a PocketWizard was technologically advanced for me then. I was still working out what depth of field was and how to use it. Exposure was a trial and error experiment. And I still didn't quite understand what wide angle distortion was. Looking at the picture now I see what I did wrong. It was good for me then, but I wouldn't consider it very good now.

AG Krueger won the 2008 USATF Olympic Trials

That was five years ago. Since the Bill and I have been to two Olympic Games, two IAAF World Championships and countless other assignments, both big and small. Remotes no longer scare me. In fact, I expect them. They expand the creative possibilities. I can now "see" things that aren't directly in front of me. I can visualize the picture and figure out the technical parts I need to make it happen. I've learned a lot and have had a very patient teacher.

Those Olympic Trials in Eugene solidified my decision to pursue the visual arts. Because of that, I have always had a soft spot for track and field. I have been to every USATF outdoor championship since, and every year I visit the hammer cage at least once to try and make that picture better.

This year in Des Moines, Iowa, I made an image I like.

The athlete AG Krueger. The camera is a D3; the lens a 14-24.

AG Krueger won the 2013 USATF Outdoor Championships.

History repeats. The difference is that now I'm not nervous. Now, I know what I'm doing. Now, I expect to get it right and am excited to try.

Migration Home /  by Bill Frakes

I grew up in Nebraska loving the land, the people, the wildlife. It wasn't until I went away to college that I realized most Americans thin my home is state is, well, homely. When our family finally got a television set I was confused because the helpful commercials would announce 9 Eastern, 8 Central, and 6 Pacific. Why no Mountain Time zone? And then I painfully figured out that I lived in a fly over state.

I've spent a lot of time flying over a lot of places.

What I had never done was put myself in a position where tens of thousands of birds would fly just above my head as they make an ancient journey along routes that far predate men's presence on the Earth.

When I was three our family was enjoying a picnic on the banks of the Platte in the shadow of Scotts Bluff when I toddled off and decided to chase a duck into the river. The river isn't mighty, or swift, or deep. But it was more powerful than my young legs. I don't remember much about it, but my mom told a terrifying story of watching the current pull me under. Somehow they got me out, not too much the worse for wear.

So just a few, okay, maybe five decades later, when I was wading out to a sandbar in that same river carrying a heavy Gitzo tripod, and a Nikkor 600mm f4 lens it was rather unsettling when I found my foot sinking into deep, soft mud. I couldn't drop the tripod, or the lens so I had to pull my foot out of the hip wader and continue across the unpleasantly cold river.

We had a popup blind tacked down on the small piece of land right in the middle of the Platte. We knew there was a whooping crane in the area, and we knew the sandhill cranes and snow geese were maybe 30 minutes from starting to glide down to their overnight resting places. I was soaked. But no time to head back to get dry clothes. It was going to be a very long, cold night.

But what a night. I have been in many places -- all 50 Americans states, 138 countries at last count, and every continent except Antarctica so I'm pretty confident in saying I am well-traveled. I'm comfortable saying that being on this piece of sand, in the middle of the first river I knew, on a bitter March night, drenched to the bone was one of the most magnificent experiences I've enjoyed in nature.

We were facing due west. The sunset was full, bright orange. The sky crystal clear. As it went from a glorious yellow intensity to a full deep royal blue, a sliver of a moon gracing the pre star filled night, the birds appeared. A handful tentatively dropped to their roosts, then the noise increased, the sky was full of soaring, gliding black, honking birds. Impossible to count but likely 50,000 of these gangly, magnificent prehistoric creatures swirled overhead and settled in to join us overnight on the flat, wide river the water coursing a foot from our blind.

There were no people close, and it was a dark, dark night but it was far from quiet. The sound was almost deafening, yet soothing.

Around 4 a.m. we had visitors. A small herd of deer splashed out across the channel to stand inches from the tent. Nothing scary but a little strange to look out through the tent windows at the dark, questioning eyes of those gentle creatures.

As the sun slowly crept up in the eastern sky, Laura made incredible video images of the graceful creatures in flight. I sat spellbound trying to do the same.

Full circle. And I can't wait to get back next year. It's my migration. Home.

Sandhill Cranes /  by Bill Frakes

Growing up in Nebraska, I experienced nature first-hand. Life on the plains taught me to live on the land and to appreciate its natural beauty.

Nebraska's mystery and majesty have always inspired me creatively.

It's remembering those roots that keeps me fresh.

More than 500,000 sandhill cranes stop along the Platte River each spring as they make their way northward. Tom Lynn, Laura and I will be there to document their visit.

In a recent interview with the New York Times, George Archibald, one of the founders of the International Crane Foundation discussed cranes and their elegant dance. "[The cranes] have complicated and beautiful behaviors — they dance and duet and have all kinds of vocal and visual languages in ways that seem to be human-like. They are devoted to a single mate for life and rear just one or two chicks at a time. Because of this and other factors, they are also one of the most endangered groups of birds."

The plains of Nebraska are known as a vast, open space with endless skies and unbroken sight lines, the only constant noise the whistling wind but when the cranes descend on the wide flat Platte all that changes. These majestic birds create a city on the sandbars and bustling traffic in the skies.

I invite you to come to come to Nebraska in mid March to experience first-hand why so many nature enthusiasts call the sandhill crane migration one of the greatest spectacles of nature in North America.

I'll be leading a photo tour that will allow you to not only experience the migration but also to capture video and images of the phenomenon.

The tour includes entrance to the blinds, hands-on instruction from me, Tom and Laura with the cameras and support systems. There will also be an Apple certified Final Cut Trainer providing instruction.

You can learn more about the tour and secure your spot at http://strawhatvisuals.flywheelsites.com/workshops/cranes/.

Newspaper /  by Bill Frakes

I've spent most of my adult life working for print publications. Almost the entire time, I have had to suffer through conversations about why print is dead. I see photo staffs being eliminated to save money at newspapers who are struggling financially because they can't sell their products. That makes very little sense to me as a long term plan. It's a desperate stab literally in the dark to raise short term numbers without any initiative, cleverness or creativity. Eliminating content providers eliminates content production and doing that is not going to attract or retain content purchasers.

Boarding my flight from Oslo to London, I watched passenger after passenger grab 2 or 3 newspapers from racks next to airplane door.

The entire flight virtually every seat was filled with people reading the morning newspapers.

The plane was WIFI equipped, but for this flight, on this day, newspapers ruled the air.

Makes me wonder if they know something we don't.

Stories for the Super Bowl /  by Bill Frakes

Every Super Bowl, I have some form of connection with at least one of the teams in the game.

Early in my career at Sports Illustrated, I covered 49ers coach Jim Harbaugh when he was the starting quarterback in Indianapolis.  One shoot in particular sticks in my memory.  As a coach, Harbaugh is known for being tough to interview.  As a player, at least with me, he was great.  Not only did he give me as much time as I needed, but he took me out for breakfast -- at Cracker Barrel.

Harbaugh reading the paper at home.

Then in October of last year, Laura and I, along with Sports Illustrated Senior Writer Tim Layden, did a story on the four kickers in NFL history who have kicked 63 yard field goals. David Akers of the 49ers is in this elite group.

David not only gave us as much time as we needed, he brought his family in to meet us.  We had so much fun with them, we shot their Christmas card while we were there.

People always ask me who my favorite sports teams are.  My answer: I like people, not teams.  David Akers and Jim Harbaugh are two of those people.  They were gracious and easy to deal with, and so I hope they do well.

Over the years, I have covered more than 25 Super Bowls. For tomorrow's game I'll be Amsterdam bound to judge the World Press Photo competition, but I will definitely be checking in on the action in NOLA -- as soon as I land.