El Pescador has two trails leading to it - one is very manicured and smooth, I suspect it goes up to one of the exclusive houses at the top of the cliff. The other has some "steps" created by landscaping timbers and sand, uneven, but helpful in getting to the beach. I went down there one day this week. There was a family having a picnic at one of the spots I was hoping for. But I moved further down the beach. I spent some time here last summer and was hoping to recreate some shots I took with the water rushing around the rocks. Naturally, I was hoping to improve both with my better camera and the knowledge of what I should have done better last year. A lone surfer came out to catch the last waves of the day.
La Piedra is the middle beach. I first visited La Piedra in November 04. I went by myself with the jeep. I don't think I was actually on the main trail at first, because it was very steep and not well marked. But I slid my way along. As I got closer to the beach I remember using the sit method where I sit on a rock and slide my feet down rather than trying to use it as a "step."
The tide was out revealing kelp filled tide pools. I waded out carefully and took my shots. There was another photographer. When darkness fell, I asked him if he would hang around until I made it up. He was gracious and stayed behind me all the way up. I'm sure I slowed him down because I was heavier then and out of shape. I could make it up, but I had to stop and catch my breath. He waited patiently. I was grateful because if I had fallen or slipped, there was someone who could call 911.
This year I wanted to go back again. Henry came with me, but stayed at the jeep working on his writing. I tried to make sure I was going down the main pathway. The path is narrow and steep. Small lizards would scamper into the waist high vegetation lining the path. One seemed curious and stayed to watch me pass. The rains over the last few years have eroded the path creating a small 8-12 inch gully in the middle. In one area they have tried to stem this erosion by placing leaves and branches. I was not too sure about walking on it, but I made my way carefully through and kept on going down.
I must confess that I am much more confident going uphill. Yes, I get winded going uphill, but I trust my footing better. Goind downhill, I fight several fears: Perhaps I will fall forward tumbling out of control down the trail. My foot might slide out from underneath me - either causing an abrupt and painful seating or an unplanned gymnastic split. (And I was NEVER good at doing the splits.) So while I do not let this fear keep me from steep trails, I work my way slowly and painstakingly to reach my destination. It always takes me a long time to get to the bottom.
Despite my struggles going downhill, it was a pleasant hike - the canyon is pretty, the sea was a beautiful blue ahead of me, and I could hear the roar ofthe surf. But when I reached the beach area, the surf was coming all the way to the cliff. What beach????? As I surveyed the scene, I noted the huge swarm of flies feeding on a dark blob on the rock. There was no safe place to stand at water level. No way to get down between arrival of the waves at the base of the rocks where I was standing. Even if I could get down to the beach level, there were only a few areas where the surf did not reach. To add to the danger was a huge tree complete with branches being tossed to and fro in the surf. It was slowly working its way in my direction. Hum . . . . I felt dismay. The only place to be was to sit on these stairlike rocks among the thousands of flies. This long, treacherous walk seemed pointless. But, now that I was here, I was determined to see what I could get. I found a place to sit on a narrow ledge of rock. I set up my tripod - all the legs were at a different length on different rocks. Fortunately, the flies were more interested in the food on the rock near me (whatever it was) rather than me. Only the largest waves or a few of my movements caused them to swarm. The waves lapped at the rocks two feet below my feet. Most of the time I was high enough to stay dry. A couple of large waves sprayed me lightly over the course of the evening.
I found myself glad to be down here, enjoying the roar of the surf and the loud crackling as the water rushed over the rocks on its way back to the sea. A unique sound, rather hollow, snapping, popping, roar as the water rushes around the individual rocks forcing its way down the slope in a glorious rip tide. Rejecting the temptation to just give up and go back to the car, I started trying to find my photos.
Certainly, the water was dancing over the rocks. I tried to capture that motion as a silky smooth blur leaving the rocks sharp, but defining the motion and current of the waves. I tried to capture the roar of water over those rocks. I felt that the large tree was a distraction to the beauty of the coast on my left (although in retrospect, I should have photographed it as a curiosity). The panoramic landscapes did not seem to be artistic enough. But the movement of the water around the rocks - yes that was where the art would be found if at all this night.
As I began to shoot, I quickly realized I was making my usual "mistakes." Getting the proper exposure is always a challenge to me. For shooting water, I set the aperture and try to guess where I want the meter to read to set the shutterspeed.Even with these "auto-like" settings, I am adjusting the dials for either more or less exposure depending on the situation. Areas with a lot of white need greater exposure because the brightness "tricks" the meter into under exposing. Black or dark objects need less. I set the aperture small to get a deep depth of field. That will naturally slow the shutterspeed to get the blurring of the water that is a popular photographic style right now. Common wisdom says to shoot as bright as possible without blowing the highlights. Easier said than done. And, even when successful, it seems that those shots look over exposed to me. Plus, when shooting either aperture priority or shutter priority, a slight variation as to which spot is metered will produce dramatically different results. I do check the histograms regularly, but I often find that I've just shot a sequence of shots that might have been usuable if the exposure had been better. Fortunately, RAW processing saves some of those shots for me.
By the time I've shot my five 1-gig cards, the sun is down and it is truly time to go back. It is easier going back up, but I still found myself scrambling up a few of the steeper rock areas. A few stops to catch my breath and I am finally up at the top, very tired. Looking through the shots in the back of the camera (chimping) leaves me thinking I sure did not get much tonight.
Back at the RV and in front of the computer, I realize that I did get some interesting shots tonight. Prize winning . . . way too soon to tell. In this part of a trip, I'm taking photos faster than I can process them to see what the final result will be. I'm way too tired and sore tonight to fully appreciate anything. But I can go to bed knowing that at least a few of them show promise.
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