Surprise and Terror

A great adventure comes with two elements.  Unexpected surprise and terror. Tuesday there were clouds in the sky, at least early in the day.  This makes photographers smile and check there gear, camera wise I mean.  Nothing is more boring and less dramatic than 72 and sunny with clear blue skies.  Yawn. We need falling light or dark brooding thunderheads or a wet street to be happy.  It's part of the adventure of photography, trying to capture something elusive, something that only lasts a fleeting second and then can never be repeated in the same light at the same moment.  We're capturing time.

Metaphysical meanderings aside; Tuesday evening I took my roundabout way over to the Art District to climb up on the 6th street bridge.  The reason I take the long way is because Skid Row lies directly in the path from my apartment to this newly discovered awesome neighborhood and the LA bridges. Now every single person I've met that appears to be living on the streets have been unfailingly nice.  The scariest people downtown, in this order, are the sheriffs, the police, security guards and shop keeps.  My guess is all these people carry guns.  Homeless people can't afford the bullets. But truthfully, I'm still a little uncomfortable tempting fate and I head over to 4th before turning east towards the river.

I loop back south and head up the 6th street bridge.  I've shot from the 1st, 4th and 7th street bridges before but never the 6th.  It turns out to be the best of the bridges for a photographer.  It's beautiful, has lots of places to stand out of the way of foot traffic and some great vantage points.  It's about 5:30 and the sun is setting and the clouds I had hoped for have all evaporated.  There is another photographer on the bridge and I'm glad.  We end up talking and setting up our tripods near the same spot.  He obviously knows what he's doing and we shoot and chat.  It's fun not being alone.

It's getting pretty dark out.  As we talk, out of nowhere comes the horrible screeching of car tires. A van had swerved to narrowly miss a cyclists on the bridge and the noise was chilling.  The van was going very fast and missed him by inches.  It makes me sick to think of what could have happened.  I can't imagine what it was like for the guy on the bike.

It's getting late and dark so I say goodbye to my new friend, we exchange contact info.  Now I have a choice to make.  Do I loop back around the long way to get home or do I head south into the unknown and try to take the skinny way around Skid Row.  By skinny I mean, try to get to 8th and then head west. Skid row is between 4th and 7th.  Going up either 3rd or 8th you feel fairly safe.  I head in the direction of 8th, passing 7th, but I can't find it.  I start to see the 10 freeway and realize I'm not going to find 8th and I'm surrounded by dark warehouses.  It's too late to go all the way back through the Art District and I'm exhausted so I take my chances and go up 7th.  Honestly there were moments were I had to make myself not run, but I made it without getting hassled and my expensive camera gear intact.  Suddenly my neighborhood feels a lot safer.

Here are some of the shots I got, well worth the adventure.