Returning to the Corinth Reservoir, 2025 Edition

This was a complicated confluence. But somehow, some way … I still achieved great things from it.

Let me explain.

I adore astrophotography – Milky way, meteors, eclipses, star trails, all of that. And the original plan was to travel to Brown Tract Pond in Raquette Lake, New York – New York’s darkest night sky – with plans to photograph the Milky Way and whatever star trails might participate. Plus, we’re in the early stages of the Perseid meteor shower, and although the shower’s peak will be around August 12, the moon’s brightness would blot out any decent meteor watching or photography. But I should be able to capture something in the new moon phase.

I should.

Let’s see if “should” equals “did.”

I’m looking over my gear right now. The best camera to use at this point will be my infrared-modified Nikon Df, along with a 28mm f/2.8 Nikkor lens. I also have a special H-Alpha band pass filter on the lens, to hopefully capture one of those deep thermal colors in the sky. Yeah, I’m planning for anything and everything.

My original plan also included bringing along the Pentacon Six TL … but since it has recently developed a nasty case of “sticky shutter syndrome,” the camera is now in Florida, undergoing a specialist cleaning, lubrication and attention. Normally I would bring the Pentacon to my local camera tech, but sometimes when there’s an illness you go to a specialist instead of to your general practitioner. Which is fine by me.

So it’ll be one camera and off to Brown Tract Pond I go –

Weather report. Cloudy.

Aw, nuts. I am NOT dealing with cloudy weather again. I am NOT driving two hours into the Adirondack Mountains just to turn around and drive two hours home because of crappy cloud cover. No no no no no.

Scouring alternate sites.

Oh, look. Clear skies until at least 1:00 a.m. at the Corinth Reservoir. And it’s a close enough “dark sky” location. 45 minute drive from home, quarter-mile walk into the woods. This would work for me.

Of course, I had to take care of some particulars.

And by “particulars,” I alerted the Ballston Spa Police Department of my whereabouts. The last thing I need is someone spotting my car in the Corinth Reservoir parking lot after dark … questioning WHY there’s a car parked there after dark … and hauling my car off to an impound lot. Nope. I gave the dispatch desk the make and model of my car, along with the license plate, and my phone number. I also agreed that I would call the Ballston Spa Police Department once I left the Corinth Reservoir, so that nobody would search for me, thinking I was still there.

Okay. Thursday night. Weather still looks perfect. I can do this.

I arrive at the Reservoir. Haul my gear – camera bag, tripod, folding chair – up to the reservoir shore.

Get the camera set up, add the intervalometer, and take a few test shots. Here I am. Ready to go.

Now I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And it was at that moment that I realized I forgot one tiny, teeny, eensy, weensy little necessity for evening astrophotography in the Adirondack Mountains.

Insect repellent.

Yep. Not ten minutes into my photo shoot, I felt a pinch on my arm. Yep. State bird of the Adirondacks – the mosquito. And a few minutes later – another one. Throughout the night, I felt those little buggers nipping at me like I was some mosquito-attracted Old Country Buffet.

Well, it’s too late to find some bug spray now. Just deal with it. I’ve had worse happen to me … this won’t be an issue.

Darkened sky. I see a few stars. Then more stars. Then more and more.

And I see my first shooting star.

And another. And another. Wow. I’m getting at least three or four meteors every minute.

Meanwhile, my camera is capturing breathtaking shots of the Milky Way.

Like this one.

Yep, that’s a little meteor racing through the lower right corner of the picture.

Let’s adjust the camera, change a couple of settings, and try again.

Stunning. And I’m even getting a tiny hint of the Milky Way in the calm reservoir water. Sweet.

Let’s take another frame and twist it into a black and white capture. And …

Oh, if I didn’t already have a deadline for Competition Season … heck, let’s just keep that one in the back pocket for next year.

But then I had an idea. I’m still capturing the Milky Way while the meteors were photobombing my images.

What if … I could take a Milky Way capture that had a streaking meteor across it?

I won’t know until I get home. I won’t have time to check the camera while I’m on site. Trust me, I’ve heard the stories of people who start “chimping” their cameras (looking at the back monitor and going “ooh, ooh” like a chimp) and when they do that, their camera misses the more incredible photo. So I must trust the process. Patience. Serenity. Absorb nature and all its wonder right now. Be one with the universe. Appreciate the peace and quiet and serenity of the moment.

Okay. It’s 1:00 a.m., and the only thing keeping me awake right now are the occasional mosquitos stinging me in spots that are hard to swat away. I pack up everything …

And when I get home … I go through all my photos from that night. All the great images, all the accidental ones …

And I find a dozen that capture THIS moment. And I assemble them into one capture.

You need to see this.

Holy Perseids, Batman … that is exactly what I want.

I immediately contacted my lenticular printer in California. I want two prints of this. 11×14. Competition Season 2026. No question about it.

Yeah. This works for me. Big freakin’ time.