Dean Unger
by Dean Unger
It’s like hunting with camera – not a gun. You could shoot anything but you don’t want too; the prey you’re after is elusive and mysterious: the perfect combination of light, form, texture, subject and shadow. You’ll know it when you see it.
For the dedicated hobby photographer, there is perhaps nothing better than the excitement of packing the RV for a photo excursion. One of the joys of the wide-open photo expedition is that you don’t have to specialize in any one type of photography. It’s really just a matter of keeping your eyes open.
On this particular expedition I travelled through the interior of British Columbia, through Kamloops to Cache Creek, then north to Green Lake, just south of One Hundred Mile House. It was September – early fall. Just off the highway, both before and after Kamloops I pulled to the side of the highway on numerous occasions to capture the light of early fall as it played off the grasslands, the hoodoos and red-rock of the river-valley.
The light at this time of year is characteristically golden –white, or silver – depending on the time of day and how cold it is. The textures and colours of the landscape show different aspects of character depending on whether it is a clear day or whether the sun is veiled through thin cloud. This variation means that on any given day there will be an award-winning photo in one location and not another, and that exactly the opposite will be true later that day, under different conditions. Ultimately, it means you must keep your eyes open, and be ready to jump into action.
From Kamloops it was on through Cache Creek – at the north end of the Fraser Canyon. Then up to Green Lake to catch the Kokanee spawn. Here, odds are very good of catching the brilliant red fish coursing along the shore as they prepare to heed the call of the river they would ultimately return to. The road in and out of the lake is like a worn gray ribbon cutting through the brilliant yellow and orange deciduous meadows. Keep your eyes peeled for Moose, Elk, Grizzly, and large Muleys.
Heading back south, I pass through the heart of the majestic Fraser Canyon. Though the Canyon is incredibly rich in opportunity for incredible photography and vast in its expanse and stony architecture, it was not my ultimate destination.
For that I would travel another 300 or so kilometres, to the Sunshine Coast.
It doesn’t take long to sense the tranquility of the Coast – in fact after getting onto the ferry at Horseshoe Bay and traversing the nautical route north from the big city, when you drive from the multi-tiered ferry deck onto terra-firma at Langdale, you’ll immediately sense that life here slows considerably. In fact by the time you reach Earl’s Cove, at the other end of the peninsula, the tranquility becomes outright wilderness seclusion. Here you can get out of the vehicle and hear nothing but the sound of the tide throwing itself ashore and the sea-birds squawking while they drift in the breeze looking for a free meal.
The pace of life here runs by the tide. And I decide at that moment that this is what I want to capture; to try to show in my pictures, the essence of life on British Columbia’s wild coast.
After another ferry ride from Earl’s Cove to Saltry Bay, I would follow highway 101 to Lund, where the roadway spills into the Pacific Ocean. After dinner at infamous Lund Hotel, made famous in the rum running era, I double back to Townsite located just north of Powell River. There I met with the matron of the old Rodmay Hotel – originally built in the late 19th century and said by many of the locals to be haunted. In fact I was told that at one time a movie production crew wanted to use the hotel to make a movie that was befitting of its history and its foreboding aspect. I decided to stay the night there and explore the old place with camera in-hand the following day. Despite the three floors and some thirty or forty rooms, I was one of only four people in the entire building that night.
My job the following day: to capture the quintessential image that in and of itself captured the defining moment of time and place.
Though I had a general route and a general timeline in place, the trip was characterized by spontaneity. I would simply drive and let creative inspiration and the landscape itself take me to where inspiration lay dormant and waiting.