Early Morning Light
There’s just something magical about early morning light. Ask any photographer out there – going without sleep to catch those evanescent golden rays and the way they reflect off landscapes to provide a surreal-like feel to photos and video.
I’m not a morning person, nor do I claim to be by any stretch; I have however, spent countless mornings watching the sun rise over the horizon fly-fishing for Atlantic salmon or hunting with my Dad. Throughout my 35 years I’ve gained a unique appreciation for the simple beauty of the beginning light of a new day. I think, whether you’re a morning person or not, most everyone can appreciate that golden glow from an early morning sunrise.
After a late night in the shop wrapping our sleds, Jonathan Anstey and I set out in the wee hours of January 12th, 2017 to work on some video and catch those early morning rays. We had been watching the forecast closely that week hanging onto a slight glimmer of hope it would change. Much to our dismay there was rain in the short range slated to start later that evening – yet another reason to get out early we felt.
Sarah-Lynn & Susan (our wives) were on the same page yet again – thinking there was definitely something wrong with us for loading the sleds and pulling out of our driveways at 4 in the morning. We call it passion; they call it borderline obsession. We don’t claim or deny either of those notions.
We unloaded our sleds at the same place you will find our trucks on any given day of the winter – White River Road. Sipping on our coffees and packing the last of our camera gear we chatted about the day’s route plan and how calm it was at that hour in the morning. An owl hooted in the background – a welcoming sound to our favorite riding area. It was windless and the moon and stars were out in full effect as we saddled up and headed for the hills.
[sc name=”VertQuoteBorders” param1=”Rooping pow turns, banging and popping off of natural hits and pillows, trading high 5’s and conversing about how much we love these new sleds.” ]
Entering the “fun zone” we were greeted by a waste-deep, freshly-washed, cashmere blanket of snow – ours for the taking. We got out the drone and filmed some buttery full speed turns – the morning sky still in the developmental stages of changing from night to day.
Watching the sun rise that morning was a thing of sheer beauty. From a light cast of purple to orange, pink, red and then blue, mother nature held nothing back as we sat back and watched the show. Looking back on it now, that sunrise was a tale of the day ahead – the kind of day all us snowmobilers dream about. Warm, deep blue sky, no wind, a handful of cirrus clouds for lens effect and waste-deep untouched powder. I think most people that travel here to ride snowmobile find it very hard not to fall in love with the West Coast of Newfoundland.
[sc name=”VertQuoteBlack” param1=”We arrived back at the trucks almost empty on fuel, memory cards full, snow in every crook and cranny from our helmet vents to our boot laces.” ]
“Entering the “fun zone” we were greeted by a waste-deep, freshly-washed, cashmere blanket of snow – ours for the taking.”
The remainder of the day was much like you would expect from the Sledcore crew on a picture- perfect winter day – rooping pow turns, banging and popping off of natural hits and pillows, trading high 5’s and conversing about how much we love these new sleds.
We arrived back at the trucks almost empty on fuel, memory cards full, snow in every crook and cranny from our helmet vents to our boot laces, beat tired and still on a high about the amazing day we had just had. As with many winters past, some days just stick with you and January 12th and that beautiful early morning light was one that will stick with me for a long time.
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