How does a bad trip get even worse? When it gets really, really expensive. Around day three things were ok, after all, it was almost over. I thought I might escape from Canada unscathed. The contest had just wrapped up and I was joyfully skipping to my car. Since wakeskaters are all 19 and can’t rent cars, a few of them had asked me for a ride back to the hotel. I set my camera bag, tripod and water housing on the ground next to my car so that the teens could put their boards and bags in the trunk first, then sat in the car. I half forgot about my camera bag, and half assumed that they would stick it in the trunk for me. When they both got in the car and the trunk was closed, I started up the Yarris and went to pull out. Then I heard a strange crunching noise. We got out of the car to see my tripod snapped into three pieces and the other two bags precariously close to the tires. Awesome.
My fisheye lens is obviously toast, but I’m still not sure on the status of the camera body. Might be bent, might be ok. I have to shoot with it and see. Maybe my photos will just be really, really artsy from now on. Well, like the song says “Blame Canada!”