Living in the Clouds in the Tatoosh Wilderness

My younger son Ryan and I backpacked into the Tatoosh Wilderness on Sunday.

After 3000 vertical feet on a renlentless trail, we reached the saddle separating us from our planned destination, a small valley where we had camped several years before. But we were stunned at what we saw below us. All of our plans and expectations were dashed. I didn't know what to do.

The entire valley was covered with snow. We didn't want to slide down the steep slope only to tent on the snow. We weren't mentally prepared for that with our shorts. We decided to camp on the narrow ridge in a cluster of trees one hundred feet above the trail.

After a quick pitching of the tent and one sunset photo of neighboring Mount Rainier, the rain clouds zoomed in. They smothered us. And they didn't leave. As the clouds flew up over our ridge, the trees above us captured the moisture and rained it down on us. For two nights and the entire day it rained on us.

Most of Monday we stayed huddled in the dry tent. We measured visibility from our camp site by the number of trees we could see below us. One tree visibility was about 50 feet. A record three-trees visibility was about 200 feet. For a change of pace around noon, we ventured on a short hike, only to be totally drenched with rain. We scrambled back into our REI cocoon. We read, wrote, napped and rushed out for potty breaks. That night the rain continued nonstop.

Since I had injured my back before the trip, it started hurting big time from laying around so much. Tuesday morning, the clouds continued showering us. About 10:00, we decided to head back down to the car.

Regardless, the trip was not a disaster. In fact, this was probably one of the best trips Ryan and I had done. Outside, the wet wildflowers were fresh with huge water drops. A bird kept singing much of the day. Inside, we talked honestly. We shared personal stories. We even developed a business plan for me.

Life just doesn't get any better.

Is Stealing Photos from the Web OK?

A couple of days ago, while captioning photographs, one of my assistants commented about how much work it took to prepare each image: The cost of location photography, organizing thousands of images on hard drives, key wording, captioning, and finally optimizing. Besides my self, I employ two people to help me with the process.

That's why I'm very upset. Livid. Angry. Today, while talking with that same assistant about posting photographs to my Facebook site, she said that I need to be careful because someone could steal the images.

When asked if she ever lifted an image from the web, she said, "Well, yes. I don't want to pay for a photo when I'm using it small in a flier or something."

"But that's illegal. It's stealing," I replied.
"There's a lot of gray area there," she retorted.
"US copyright law says it's illegal."
"But the photographs are not copyrighted."
"All photographs are copyrighted as soon as they are taken. It happens that I register mine with the US Copyright Office," I said.
"Well......"
"Is taking a photograph from a gallery stealing?"
"Yes," the photo assistant replied.
"What's the difference?"
"The photo on the web can be reproduced many times."
"So can the photo in the gallery."
"I don't want to talk about it any more. We have to agree to disagree" she replied.
"It's still illegal, even by law."
Silence. Tension.

What is it in our culture that allows theft a photo from the web but not from an art gallery?

Two Chinas

I experience two Chinas.

The obvious China brims with the economic prosperity. People hustling everywhere to make a Yuan. Shoulder-to-shoulder businesses lining busy Beijng streets hawk everything from police car red lights to Darjeeling tea; building cranes silhouette the sky in every sizable city I've traveled; three-story high video screens on buildings portrait active young people dressed in upscale clothes alongside government infomercials; a sign in the window of a newly built office tower advertises, "the California wine club meets here" hinting at the growing prestige of the heavily-taxed imported elixir. And China holds the mortgage to the United States due to the one-sided trade balance.

While the masses seem so focused on capitalism bent improving their living standard, they seem to meekly accept a government fist controling politics. I experienced that control first hand. In the Beijing area I had no problem using Skype to call my wife every day. Suddenly, in Shanxi Province while visiting Grace Vineyard, Skype wouldn't work. It was blocked. I couldn't call my wife. I was also redirected to nowhere when trying to reach certain web sites. A quick internet research revealed that lots of people had similar problems in various parts of China. Fortunately, I was able to figure a way around the Skype block and only missed one call to my wife. I kept wondering how all of those smart Chinese computer geeks deal with blocks. Perhaps the government simply hires them.

Later I heard that the goverment shut down Twitter and some of the other social network sites known for political discussion. It seems the government was being cautious with the approach of the 20th-year anniversery of Tieneman Square massacre. Obviously, this not-so-subtile control grated my American sense of freedom like fingernails on chaulkboard. But right now that's how business is done in China and I want to do business here to improve my own standard of living.

A Gig in the People's Republic of China

I went to China with the idea of doing a book on Chinese Vineyards and Wineries. I'm coming away with not only ample material for that book, but also with an assignment from Chateau Junding, probably China's most upscale winery. It's basically a partnership between a government company and a private developer.

The whole experience was surreal. I kept telling myself, "Have fun, you have nothing to lose here."

Chateau Junding was the third winery to visit on my list. I had made arrangements, but somehow, while here in China, my status must have been elevated. At first, Ma Fei, a PR person on the job for only a few months, was to meet Houghton, my interpreter, and I at the Yantai airport. Suddenly we find out that Ms. Lin, the head of marketing and brand development was meeting us. This is serious. And the emails we received from her implied that the Chateau would comp all meals and rooms. OK. That wasn't too unusual in other countries when wineries find out which magazines use my photos and writing. But here in China, it seemed unusual.

During the drive to the Chateau, I gave Ms. Lin my most recent book, Oregon: The Taste of Wine as a gift. That night, during the 20-course dinner, she kept going through the book. She was obviously impressed and kept showing her favorite photographs to others. It turns out, the book, my creditentials and a foreign photographer was exactly what she was looking for.

By the end of the third day at the Chateau, Ms. Lin was talking about contract details, usage rights and flying me back in September to do additional photography. As this was all unfolding around me, usually at multi-course dinners and mostly in Chinese, I couldn't believe it. Getting a gig in the People's Republic of China. And the wine was fine.

But sealing deals in China is not a stright line. First, I had to be approved by Mr. Ji, the Penglai Winery Association Director. Over another huge dinner, which included whole fish, duck liver, some things I didn't ask about and enough wine to sink a ship, Mr. Ji and I kept toasting each other. He liked the Oregon book and was delighted to find that I had grown up in Napa, California. His dream was to make the Penglai region the Napa of China. Gambei (Chinese for bottoms up). And he kept saying that I really knew the vineyard. He also liked the Oregon Pinot noir I had brought.

Please note that the sun rises in Shandong Province about 4:30, that's 4:30 in the morning. So like an idiot photographer, I'm out there every morning, hoping that it is raining so I can go back to sleep.

The next night, after a more casual outdoor BBQ dinner, Ms. Lin invites me to a secret entertainment room downstairs. The walls are covered with massive flat panel screens all showing videos. Colored lights flash to the beat of loud music. It's karaoke time. On the ring of couches sit the Penglai mayor, regional Communist Party chief and two handfulls of other dignitaries. I'm not a real party guy, but had read that this is the way business is done here. After dancing with Ms. Lin and her daughter, I was invited to sing. No way. My wife laughs when I sing and I've had only one-half glass of beer. Hands pushed me out onto the floor. Fortunately, they paired me with Ms. Lin, who sings like a nightingale. I just hoped that the dignitaries were impressed that I was sober enough to help them out to their black limos.

Fortunately, I didn't take any photographs at the karaoke event.


Dinner meeting with Penglai Winery Association Director, Mr. Ji (center with blue and gray shirt) at Chateau Junding. I keep worrying about gaining weight on this trip.

Why Chateaus in the Land of the Great Wall

Two things about wineries in the Land of the Great Wall were a shocker.

The first is scale. While I've photographed wineries around the world, my backyard is Oregon, where many of the wineries are home-grown operations often in wooden barns. I was shocked about the enormity of the Chinese wineries I visited. They're supersized both in concept and scale. The photos show Chateau Junding near Penglai in Shandong Province. Besides the winery production building, Junding has a hotel component and housing for workers. In fact, there is a whole separate village and two off-site apartment towers just for the hords of vineyard workers.

But then everything in China is supersized. Instead of just builing one new 25-story apartment tower in Beijing, they build three or six look-alikes at the same time. A resident told me that during the week of Chinese New Year, 500,000 people used the public transport system. That's almost time and a half the total population of the United States. No wonder the wineries think big.

My second shock was actually a disconnect I'm trying to understand. Over and over I asked why the wineries emulate Europe in name and winery architecture? Chateau Junding, Chateau Bodega Langes, Chateau this and Chateau that. And the architecture fits Europe. For example, the owner of Treaty Port is building a Scotish castle. A new Chateau near Beijing is like a European village. In my preconceived mind, China has history, culture and architecture going back thousands of years. Why not honor it in the winery? It's like they want to transpose a Western culture onto the Chinese landscape. For me, the feeling is like the Disney atmosphere in Napa Valley winery architecture. Why?

View from my Chinese Window

From my sixth floor window at Motel 186 (a smoky version of USA Motel 6) in Taiyuan. We spent the night here on our way to Yantai via Beijing. Follow that on your map.

Illusion at Grace

Does this image give you a sense of two-three dimension tension (illusion) as it does me? It's of the guest house lobby where we stayed at Grace Vineyard winery.