My face became blistered from the bitter and violent breath of Chicago. My fingers seized up every time I fished my hands out of my pockets. “Hell must feel like this: constant pain and suffering” I thought to myself. Digging around in my coat pocket, I grabbed my phone and brought up the snapshot I took from Google Earth the other night. The aerial photograph contained the location of my destination: a giant landlocked boat. After walking two miles to the underground tunnel to reach the lakefront, my miserable and arduous adventure was about to begin. 

With my tripod latched onto my side and backpack behind me, I let out a huge sigh and walked through the dark tunnel. “What did I get myself into?”, I murmured. All the countless hours of research and thousands of dollars spent to take one picture, but I didn’t care. Teeth rapidly clattering and eyes shedding tears, I reminded myself the reason why I wanted to photograph this image ingrained in my brain; dedication to my craft. After walking out of the tunnel, the sight of the horizon gave me a feeling of relief. “So close yet so far”. The contrast of the warm sand against the chilling blue sky made me set up my tripod and take a photograph. The lakefront reminded me of famous World War II photographer Robert Capa and the thought of his work sparked something in me. I envisioned many of his photographs during the Invasion of Normandy as I set up my gear. His photographs provided even more clarity and realization to me. All of his work during D-Day contained images up close and personal, getting into the action, sacrificing God’s greatest gift just to take a damn photograph. Creative work is difficult and achieving that takes sacrifice and dedication. “Just suck it up and keep going Cameron” I thought to myself.
My cold and miserable index finger graced over the shutter button and the familiar “click” sound went off. I pressed the preview button and the picture came out very well. The frozen water on the sand looked like broken shards of glass. After taking the photo, I packed up my things and went on my way. I scoured the area a little bit longer for another potential photograph and felt like a lion on the prowell, hunting for prey. Not only did I not find anything and waste my time, the wind around the lakefront carried more of a punch. The wind and the knife like snow blistered exposed skin, causing it to chap and turn a deep shade of red. “Too late to turn back now. Just keep going” I said in despair.

The wind became unbearable as I continued to walk. I needed to sit down and find some sort of cover. I once again felt like a lion on the prowell. As I squinted my eyes, I saw a towering stone “hut” that had a bench inside. “Thank goodness!” Running and trembling, I ran to the structure in excitement and took a seat on the cold concrete bench. The protection and comfort the hut offered allowed me to regain my composure and warm up. Sitting on the bench, I gazed at the horizon and appreciated the desolate and quiet atmosphere that surrounded me. Despite how comfortable I felt sitting down, I kept panting like a dog because of the quick sprint I did to get to the bench. I opened my camera bag to grab a bottle of water and found nothing. As I sat there hopeless and angry, I looked at the snow. The snow, untouched and pristine, made my mouth salivate. I scooped my frigid hands into the snow and gazed at it for a moment. Before I shoved it into my mouth, the article that I found on Reddit the other day made me question my decision to eat the snow. The article mentioned that snow has tons of bacteria in it and should only be eaten as a last resort. “Ah screw the article” I said in a carefree tone. When I shoved the snow into mouth, my already dry mouth became drier and made me even more thirsty. My teeth, sensitive and cold, did not agree with my decision. The pain from my teeth caused me to jump and squirm like a child that ate too much candy. I sat back down and regained my composure. To distract myself from the pain, I grabbed my iPod and listened to “Claudia’s Theme” from the movie Unforgiven with Clint Eastwood. The soothing guitar picking calmed me down and alleviated the pain. When the song ended, I began to pack up my things when I noticed something very familiar in the distance. I couldn’t believe my eyes. “The boat!”

In a matter of ten minutes, I was beside the giant boat. I scanned the landscape for the giant metal rods I saw on Google Earth the other night and happily found them in no time. As I walked toward the metal rods I faced a major problem. In order to take the photo, I had to stand on a platform covered in a thick sheet of ice. I started to walk on the ice and I slipped immediately. My loss of coordination could have brought me to down into the icy lava. I regained balance and walked to the edge of the platform. The metal rods, glazed with thick ice, stood one behind the other. I meticulously lowered my camera bag off of my back and set up my tripod. I grabbed the camera, mounted it onto the tripod, screwed on the neutral density filter and plugged in the shutter release cable. I composed my shot so the rods fell in line with my body. I took a few test shots to determine the perfect exposure to make the water smooth. After taking five test shots, I determined that each shot should fall in between fifteen and twenty seconds. “Great, I have to stand here for...”

My worst nightmare flashed right in front of me. A giant gust of wind came out of nowhere and knocked me off balance and caused my tripod to fall off the edge. I extended my cold and weak arms and grabbed onto one of the legs. The weight of the lens and body slowly damaged my forearms. Exerting all the force and power left in my helpless body, I pulled the tripod towards me and saved the camera from its demise. I quickly regained my traction and recomposed everything. I chanted a quick prayer and held the shutter button for eighteen seconds. My thumb that held down the shutter release stung from the light breeze and my right forearm ached in excruciating pain. Before I knew it, the camera shutter closed. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I packed up my items and walked back to the tunnel, not even checking the final image.

Before I knew it, a blanket of warmth enveloped me. The heat surged through my frigid body and brought it back to life. The frown on my face became a smile as I stood on the escalator to get lunch in the 900 North Michigan Shops building. I reached the seventh floor and ordered the usual at Potbelly. I grabbed my food from the register and sat myself down in a booth and took off my coat and gear. The sandwich and milkshake filled the dark and empty void in my stomach and I relished every bit of it. As I sat there scrolling through my phone, I grabbed my camera out of the bag and turned it on. I pressed the preview button and slowly pressed the arrow, watching each image get progressively better and better. I felt my heartbeating out of my chest when I realized that I reached the end.
“Perfect”.