Port Austin | Change Is Hard

Almost a week ago now we had clear skies, no moon, and moderate temperatures. It was all perfect for a Milky Way photo shoot. So a photographer friend and I along with her daughter took a run up to the thumb of Michigan to find somewhere to spend the night under the stars.

There’s a special barn up there, and I’ve always thought it might make a good Milky Way foreground.

We checked it out, both sides. The owner of the barn must have a sense of humor.

But physically it wasn’t really faced in the correct direction for a Milky Way shoot that night. Maybe earlier in the season when the Milky Way will be further to the east. I’m keeping it in mind So we headed up toward Port Austin, near the point of Michigan’s thumb. We found a little roadside park with a small sandy beach.

*The last light illuminates the log resting on the beach.*

We decided to watch the sunset from there and then decide what to do. While we were watching the sun a small flock of cedar waxwings showed up, sitting in the dead tree near us and then flying out to catch bugs. The light was low and they moved so fast it was hard to get a good image.

*A cedar waxwing keeps watch for a tasty bug.*

But they sure made me smile.

There seemed to be an unlimited source of very thin rocks, perfect for stone skipping. So my friend and her daughter skipped stones and I took pictures.

It was so much fun.

Meanwhile the sun began to set. And, though we didn’t get a great sunset it was pretty enough for us.

We went back to the car to get our real cameras and when we came out to the beach hundeds of lightening bugs rose from the beach grass. I tried so hard to get a picture of them, but it was hard.

*See the yellow fireflies? Now multiply that by 100s.*

Just imagine standing there with all these glowing lights flitting around you. It was magical.

And then it began to get dark and my friend told me there was an aurora alert and we should take a test shot to the north and see if anything was happening. And guess what.

*A pink dome, supported by a green base with a couple pillars in for good measure*.

There was!

So we spent a lot of time shooting the aurora. It wasn’t a spectacular show, but there was plenty of pink and green and light pillars.

Then we turned our cameras south to see if the dark horse was leaving the protection of the trees yet.

It was still, unfortunately, partially behind the hill. We weren’t in a prime location for Milky Way, looking to the south it was behind the trees for much of the night. But the aurora made the site worthwhile.

*The aurora was moving out further into the bay.*

Across the way you can see retangles of golden light. I think, after studying a map, that must be Tawas, a large town on the other side of Saginaw Bay. I also wondered if there’s a bank of foggy mist out there.

We looked back to the south. The dark horse in the Milky Way was moving further out from behind the trees.

So that’s how the night went. Shoot a little to the north, shoot a little to the south. There was something spectacular no matter where we looked.

*It was hard to believe we’d gotten so lucky!*

The whole night was so wonderful. Fireflies, aurora, Milky Way, stars, a slight breeze, warm temperatures, the lapping of a quiet lake. You can’t beat it. And I felt lucky that we were there.

We left the beach a little after 1 a.m. as the mist from the bay started to move over the Milky Way and the aurora had fadded.

*Notice all the light pollution from Caseville.*

We had a 2.5 hour drive back home. I smiled the whole way.

*Nothing but stars and the tail end of the Milky Way overhead.*

I’m taking an online Milky Way photography course. There are many modulus, lots of basics, but lots of details too. Our homework this ‘new moon cycle’ was to take a single image of the Milky Way. I’ve been trying to get somewhere dark on a night when there are clear skies.

*March 12 at Katie’s park. Clouds AND too much light!* (Bortle 5)

It hasn’t been easy. There is so much light pollution where I, and most of us, live. You can check out the amount of light in your area using a light pollution map. There are 9 levels of light pollution, from a bortle 1 (darkest) to bortle 9 (the most light).

Friday late afternoon I drove a couple of hours up into the thumb of Michigan, with a specific destination in mind. Though we were under heavy cloud cover the weather people said the sky would clear by 9 p.m. and stay that way up till 3 a.m. The Milky Way wasn’t scheduled to rise until 3 a.m. But I was running out of nights when there would be no moon, so I decided to hope and headed north.

I reserved a hotel in Bad Axe, and thought I’d shoot in the Dark Sky park which has an elevated platform and pretty close to 360 degrees of sky and was located ten miles away in Port Crescent. Imagine my despair when, after checking into the hotel, I arrived at the park to explore before sunset and found it closed for the season! OH NO!!!

March 27. *Too much light, and so cold my fingers froze after only 7 shots.* *(Bortle 4)*

I drove up and down the thumb coast looking for another location as the sun began to sink. I slowly came to the realization that any open access to the beach was going to have me pointing my camera in the wrong direction. I needed to be able to see the horizon in the southeast. I’d be looking north or west on the western side of the thumb.

Downtown *Port Austin. Too much light, and looking northwest.*

So I drove over to the eastern shore, remembering two spits of land at Grindstone City that Katie and I had explored three years ago while camping up there. I needed to see if I’d feel safe there alone at night.

*April 1. This looks promising.* (Bortle 3)

Turns out one of the spits of land is a boat ramp, and the houses at the top of the ramp didn’t appear to be inhabited in this offseason of cold and wind. I didn’t see a street light either. I figured it was my best chance. I drove back to the hotel for a nap, setting my alarm for 2 a.m.

But at 2, when my phone started chiming I was so nice and warm in a comfortable bed I considered just rolling over and letting sleep claim me again. After all, the clouds were supposed to be moving in and what were the odds I see the Milky Way anyway? Plus it was a half hour drive to a dark boat ramp. Kind of scary. Maybe I’d just stay in bed.

But that would be a waste of careful (and not so careful) planning. It was my last night of clear skies before the moon put in an appearance. My last chance this moon cycle to try. So I convinced myself to at least get in the car and drive up there. And I gave myself permission to not get out of the car if it didn’t feel right.

On the drive I could see stars overhead. I never saw another car the entire trip. Arriving at the boat ramp it felt comfortable. Twenty-eight degrees, no wind, I could set my tripod up right next to the car, facing out over a small bay and Lake Huron.

I decided to sit in the car and let my eyes adjust. Also to make sure that I was alone out there. So I turned off the headlights and waited for the dash lights to dim They stayed on. And on. I thought maybe if I locked the car doors they’d turn off. So I clicked the button and the doors locked and the dash lights still stayed on. I sat there waiting and they shone brightly back at me.

Well darn.

Maybe I’d just get out and set up the camera and wait for my eyes to adjust out there. I pulled the interior door handle to release the lock and the car alarm went off. Well double darn. Here I am trying to be inconspicuous and the dash light won’t turn off and now the headlights are blinking and the horn is blaring and I’m fumbling trying to get it all to just stop!

*Deliberately overexposed to check star focus. Is that the Milky Way near the tree?*

I finally click the right thing and the horn stops, and I sort of fall out of the car, slam the door and begin setting up the tripod. But one of the top sections of the tripod isn’t tight, and the camera flops around and in the dark I can’t figure out what I have to turn to stop the flopping.

I take a deep breath and tighten up everything I can figure out to tighten and wonder why nothing seemed loose in the hotel room. I take a test shot, deliberately overexposed, to help me check the focus of the stars. I think I see the Milky Way in that shot, but frankly, it’s hard to tell.

Whatever, there are stars so I’m happy.

I take several (ok, 50+) images, moving around a little bit, but finding that if I move away from the car I’m in even more light from the streetlight over on the other spit of land, and hope that maybe at least one of them is exposed correctly while also in focus without tripod tremor. (At one point my camera slowly sank to the right because something still wasn’t tight!)

I never felt nervous, never got cold, and I lost all track of time. I packed it up around 4 a.m. I was pretty much taking pictures of the same tree the entire time, but I was never bored. That’s what getting lost in the stars does for me.

*April 2, 3:00 a.m. Lots of light everywhere. Not even sure that’s the Milky Way, but it was pretty!*

I wish I could do more of this, but it’s just so hard to find a place that’s dark enough but where I still feel safe. I’m going to start planning for the next new moon cycle. Where to go, where to go…

And a side benefit? There were lots of barns around Bad Axe. Lots and lots of barns.

Stay tuned.

Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Tag Archives: Port Austin

Magical

Starry starry night