Stairs That Tell a Story: Default Stairs

Location: Ada Boulevard & 52 St.
Stair count: 89

I could be wrong, but it's my belief that anyone who lives in Edmonton, and uses the River Valley trail system with intention, has a set of "default stairs." It may not be their favourite set, or even the one closest to their home or place of work. But, for whatever reason, it's the set of stairs they gravitate to the most, or come across the most, when they are seeking to spend time in the River Valley.

Highlands Stairs (c) Photos By Gina

For me, it's the Highlands Stairs.* For much of the last 20 years that I've lived within walking distance of this part of the river valley, the stairs never even existed. As far as River Valley stairs go, they're a newer set. I want to say they were installed just before Covid--which really isn't new at this point, chronologically speaking, but between the much longer history of some sets of stairs, and that weird thing Covid did to time, they still feel new.

And I'm so glad they were installed.

They're the stairs I stand on to catch the sunset over the river when I wasn't planning to catch the sunset at all, but the sky had other plans.

They're the stairs where I do Canadian party tricks at -30°C.

They're the stairs from which I watch and listen as the frazil floats along the current.

They're the stairs I pause on to see if the water level is low enough to look for cool rocks along the shore.

They're the stairs I generally descend, but rarely ascend, because my walking habits generally take me in a loop, not out and back.

They're not the longest set; they're not the steepest set; I'm not even sure if they're my favourite set (do I have a favourite set? I will have to think on that). But they are definitely my default set. Easy-access and multi-purpose, they connect me to and from the river, the trails, and my neighbourhood--in all seasons.

My default stairs.

 

*They aren't officially named that, though some sets of River Valley stairs do have recognized names. But that's what I call them.

Plan, Prep, Pace

I hiked among the larch trees last fall. According to the reviews on AllTrails.com, it was considered moderate, yet kid-friendly. "If a six-year-old can do it, surely I can do it," I thought.

At that point in my health journey, I knew that physical activity exhausted me, though I didn't know why. It was a hike that I tried to take slowly and gently; yet, it still left me exhausted for a full week afterwards.

One year later, with a diagnosis in hand, I hold the gift of hindsight.

For those with ME/CFS, it's not only physical exertion that sucks mitochondria dry and frazzles the nervous system. Turns out that cognitive, social, and emotional exertion add to the load as well. When I thought of all the activities surrounding the actual hike, it's no wonder I crashed.*

With a strong disposition of persistence, I considered what would need to happen for a successful hike this year. Peyto Lake was a spot I had yet to see with my own three eyes (the two on my face, and the one on my camera), and I wanted the autumn colours against the aquamarine water.

And I did not want to crash.**

(c) Photos by Gina

• So, instead of a day-trip, it became an overnight trip.

• I worked from home the day before.

• I did not take any Airbnb bookings upstairs in the days leading up to my trip, so that I could be more blasé about cleaning and tidying.

• I did only necessary chores.

• My friend and I agreed I would not do any of the driving.

• And, though I didn't ask, she carried my backpack of snacks, water, and camera gear the whole way.

• We took a slow pace with lots of breaks.

• I monitored my heart rate the whole way; I kept my breathing measured and steady.

• And upon returning home, I didn't rush to put everything away. (My car is still half full of gear.)

All this, on top of the regular, daily things I do to keep my system stable.

...Now, the deceptive part about crashes is that they can be delayed by 12-72 hours after the activity or event. I had 3 crashes during the summer, and two of them I wasn't expecting. It's delightful. (#sarcasm). And so, as I went to bed on Sunday night, I wondered, "did it work?" 

...It worked.

As I type this at the 72-hour mark, a smile creeps up my face. My first pacing success.

Next to actually getting my diagnosis earlier this spring, this feels like the biggest of wins. 

* A "crash" is the term in the ME/CFS community to describe overdoing it. The clinical term is post-exertional-malaise (PEM), which means a worsening of ME/CFS symptoms after any sort of exertion. For me, a crash looks like a dysfunctional 24-48 hours on the couch, with brain fog that would make London jealous.

** Not just because a crash feels extra awful, but also because crashes can contribute to overall decline in the long run. 

The 365-day Project that Took 8 Years (AND SOTC 365/365)

Have you ever gotten so intimate with a saskatoon berry? My yearly tradition of foraging a few cups of saskatoons from Edmonton's River Valley completed my SOTC photo challenge this past summer.*

I do love a good photo challenge. A few years ago, I turned a gratitude challenge into a photographic one; I spent the next summer hunting down instagrammable walls in Edmonton; and, I currently have an ongoing challenge to sit in a Red Chair in every one of Canada's national parks/historic sites before I die--with picture proof, of course.

My first photo challenge was a 365 project where I captured a photo of myself every single day for one year. As soon as that one was complete, I set myself up for a second 365 challenge--a photo each day straight off the camera (SOTC); no post-processing of any kind. However, 30 days in, I was struggling to keep up the creative juices. While the first 365 project was essentially photo documentation of my daily life, my Straight Off The Camera challenge was more about being able to work a subject or composition. But, you know what? Some days I just don't feel like taking photos. I doubt even professional photographers take photos every single day.

So I re-wrote the challenge. Still 365 un-processed images... with an open time line.

And so here we are.

That project started on September 1, 2012, and concluded July 27, 2020. The 365 project that took 2887 days.

I have to admit, I'm not sure if this challenge resulted in me creating more un-processed final images or not. As my photography has evolved, so has my "vision" for some of the images I compose--sometimes I create compositions that I fully intend to run through Photoshop before I even click the shutter.

However, my first love is capturing this big, beautiful world "as is"--there is a strong element of realism in my photography, and so I know my satisfaction with getting the shot I want fully in-camera has certainly increased, because sometimes the elements are against me! In this project, occasionally I got one on the first try. Other times, it took upwards of 20 shots to get the one I wanted. I also put concerted effort into capturing a variety of compositions to stretch my comfort zone.

My creative drive has taken a bit of a hit with the pandemic this year; as for so many people, my mind has often just been elsewhere. Nevertheless, I know that photography soothes my soul, and my camera is never far from my side. While I will be spending time this winter learning more about post-processing, there's nothing quite like getting it "right" in-camera. I know I will continue to stretch my compositional skills as much behind the lens as in front of the screen.

P.S. I am blogging less these days... the best way to keep up with my fine art photography is by following me on Instagram: @photosbygina.yeg.

* It also completed the life span of my camera, the shutter mechanism of which started failing minutes after this image was taken. Many digital cameras like mine have an average "mileage" of 100,000 shutter clicks. In seven years with that camera, I'm sure I reached or exceeded that. It is costly to repair the shutter when compared to the cost of a new camera body, so I upgraded to a similar but newer model. RIP Canon 70D.

SOTC 364/365

SOTC 363/365

SOTC 362/365

If I can't go to the Red Chairs this year, I'll bring the red chairs to me!

SOTC 361/365

I think he sees me...

SOTC 360/365

SOTC 359/365

SOTC 358/365*

*omg, you guys, only a "week" left in this project! It's taken years!

SOTC 357/365

SOTC 356/365

SOTC 355/365

"Only in darkness can we glimpse the fullest light our soul carries for us." - Angie Weiland-Crosby

SOTC 354/365

So, it turns out five of my SOTC contributions are squirrels, and frankly, I'm surprised it's not more.

SOTC 353/365

SOTC 352/365

SOTC 351/365

SOTC 350/365

SOTC 349/365

SOTC 348/365

I find that small birds are crazy-quick and hard to photograph. However, they're also great subjects, and so interesting to watch in their own right.

So I bought a bird feeder to see them more often.

Then I bought a good bird feeder to see them longer.

Finally, I bought a fancy-pants zoom lens to see them better.

And I watch. And I practice.

Ages ago I learned that with portrait photography, make sure the eyes are crisp, and try and get the catchlights if you can. Turns out that applies to any species. So I start from there and compose as I go.

Small birds are crazy-quick to photograph. Here's to sometimes being quicker.