They say landscape photography is about patience, planning, and a deep connection with nature. In our case, it’s mostly about cheese, toilet paper emergencies, and trying not to laugh so hard we throw up. This Panoholics adventure kicks off in the Canadian Rockies, where the plan is simple: capture a gorgeous panorama at Bow Lake. The reality? Amanda’s coffee looks suspiciously like something you’d drain out of a radiator, Brent’s defending the honor of his 14-pound pano rig, and I’m wondering if my alarm clock has joined the witness protection program. The forecast promised perfect blue skies (which, as every landscape photographer knows, is terrible), but nature had other plans. We arrive to a socked-in sky, a half-hearted reflection on the lake, and a queue of twenty photographers fighting over the only scenic tree in Alberta. Ever the professionals, we avoid the crowd—mainly so no one can witness our slow descent into slapstick madness. Brent gives me a crash course on his panoramic setup, which is basically the size and weight of a small anvil. I pretend to be impressed, but quietly decide I’d rather carry a toaster oven up a mountain. Then it happens—just as I’m about to achieve what I can only describe as “peak Fotogasm,” the light dies. A classic Rockies heartbreak. But as soon as I give up and wander away… the light returns. Of course it does. Cue a frantic scramble back to my original spot, muttering words that would get me demonetized if I printed them here. And then there’s the camper sequence. What starts as a celebratory bevie spirals into one of the most ridiculous walkie-talkie exchanges in the history of outdoor adventure. Imagine a grown man, mid-plop, radioing for “nuts”—only to be interrogated about what kind until we both dissolve into hysterics so intense my abs get more of a workout than they have in a decade. Somewhere in the chaos, “pecans” becomes the funniest word in the English language, and we realize we may be the only photographers in history to bring down the mood of an entire national park through uncontrollable laughter. By the end, we do get our shots. Brent nails a pano worthy of our course. I finally capture Bow Lake the way I’ve envisioned it for twelve years. And Amanda? She continues to deny any wrongdoing in the coffee department. If you came here for a calm, meditative exploration of mountain beauty, you’re in the wrong place. If you want to watch two grown men try to balance the art of panoramic photography with bad jokes, beer breaks, and logistical failures that would make a scoutmaster cry—hit play. You’ll laugh, you’ll learn, and you might just leave with a sudden craving for cheese and pecans.
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