Displacement

If I had to give a time period in my life that had impacted me the most, I would have to say it was the summer of 1997.  I had just finished my senior year at Arizona State, were I had been studying photography.    Over winter break that year, my Digital Processes professor had contacted me about an internship with Dan Venator, a well-known wildlife photographer who worked primarily in the Bob Marshall wilderness who was a friend of hers.  I had known I wanted the internship immediately.   I was three credits short of graduating and wildlife photography was what I wanted to specialize in.  So four and a half months later I found myself finishing the twenty hour drive from Phoenix to Kalispell Montana.   Driving through the small town, I looked from the map in my lap back up to the road.  Turning down the last street, I stopped in front of the small apartment I would call mine for the next few months, 105 S. Skylos.   Turning off the car, I sighed quietly.  This had been the longest trip I had ever been on and my legs were killing me.  I opened the door and stepped out, stretching my arms above my head as I tried to ease the aching in my lower body.  I heard a door slam behind me and quickly turned around.  A friendly face greeted me with a small wave as he walked toward me. 

“You must be Anna?  I’m Dan.”  He reached his hand out towards me.

“Hi, and yeah, that’s me,” I said with a small laugh, as I shook his hand.  

“Well, I’m glad to see you made it in one piece, when Carol told me that you were driving here I couldn’t believe it.  That isn’t exactly a short drive.”  

“No it is not, and I’m glad I don’t have to drive it a lot.”

Dan smiled, “Well, the apartment is all set up.  Here are the keys and tomorrow we are going to go out for a short day.  I’ll pick you up at five so we can get out there early.”

“Okay, and thank you again.”

As Dan drove off, I grabbed my bag and started inside.  I hadn’t expected to start so soon and as excited as I was, I was too tired right now to really want to think about tomorrow.  The house was comfortable with furniture already in place and as soon as I had showered and changed, my head hit the pillow and I was out until my alarm went off the next morning at four. 

Soon I was in a small navy blue Toyota Tundra, driving toward the even smaller town of Seeley Lake on Highway 83.   Snow still covered the peaks of most of the summits around us.Dan enjoyed to talk and kept the conversation flowing throughout the drive.   

 After arriving in Seeley Lake, the highway quickly turned into a road and travel became slower.  When the truck finally stopped, we stepped out and started to pull the equipment out of the back, which was covered by a topper.  I grabbed the tripod and the base with the extra lenses.  Dan would be taking most of the pictures as I observed.    Just as I expected, the day passed in flash, with Dan pointing out different things to me as we moved along a well-used path.   But although this day had included a path, I realized that I would soon be going on longer backpacking trips to the heart of the wilderness.   It was something new every day and just as exciting as before.  I loved wandering throughout the wild landscape, looking for different animals and scenes.  I had never felt closer to God and been more amazed by everything I had seen. 

 Before I knew it, mid-August was upon us and we were preparing for one final trip.  Dan wouldn’t tell me where we were going, insisting that I just was going to be surprised.  Usually, he would give me a little back brief on the general location and I would spend the evening pouring over maps, the internet and books to find everything I could about the terrain.  It took us three days to hike in, each of us carrying at least sixty pounds of equipment and supplies.  Dan’s Idea was to spend two days at that location and then head back.  When we reached the site where we were staying, it was already late afternoon.  We set up camp and hurried out to use the last bit of daylight to our advantage.  Of all the places I had been that summer, this beat it all.  

  The landscape was breathtaking, sweeping on for miles, untouched and green with magnificent peaks jutting out as far as the eye could see.  The light didn’t last long and we headed back to camp to settle in for the night.  The next day, it was the same routine as always: breakfast, leave camp, hike, and take as many photos’ as possible, back to camp, dinner and bed.  As I lay down for the night, I was amazed that the next day was going to be the last day in that little haven.  Dan acted different the next day; he was quieter, as if contemplating something.  I just figured he wasn’t feeling well and forgot about it.  My head swiveled around at every sound, every landmark, anything that was around me.  For most of the afternoon, the air had been silent, except for a few birds here and there and the wind through the trees, but now I could hear water.  It was a loud rushing sound, almost a roar.  I kept looking around for a sign of a stream or waterfall but couldn’t see anything.  Finally, around a bend we stumbled across it at last.  It was absolutely gorgeous.  The water streamed down the mountainside with spray shooting out to hit our legs, arms, and faces. 

  I started to pull the camera out but Dan stopped me, waving his hand in my direction

“Don’t, this is something I’ve never documented.  I wanted to show you, but its just my little secret.”  

I nodded and put the camera back.  We stood in silence for what must have been an hour, but only seemed a few minutes.  Finally, he turned to me and smiled, “Okay, let’s go, Anna.  I wanted to show you this one, but if we want to get back in time to camp, we’ll have to hurry.”

“Okay, I just have to go the bathroom first.” I pointed over towards a wooded area, already stepping in that direction.  

Dan nodded, “I’ll wait here.”

As you probably already guessed, I didn’t go to the backroom, but instead found the best angle for a picture and snapped a handful before returning back to where Dan was waiting.  We headed back to camp, and life was back to normal as if the pictures had never been taken.  I left for graduate school soon after that and left behind that summer.  But I didn’t leave the pictures.  I took them with me and during the semester showed them to a professor in a class of mine.  He raved about them and had them submitted to National Geographic.  I was offered a job there and was more than ecstatic to except it.    I still remember Dan’s face when I saw him after the release.  I had never felt so bad, betraying a man who had been my greatest teacher.  I still can’t tell you where we were, and have tried to get back multiple times, but have never found the site.  I learned that some things are just too beautiful to share with the world and that betrayal stings the worst.