People often ask me questions about how I compose air-to-air photos such as these. The Shutterspeed blog is meant to give some insights into the world of air-to-air photography. There is much more that goes into one of these flights than I could touch on here, but hopefully this will give an idea of some of the elements in creating these images.
I had been working in the field for eleven days straight, getting up before dawn every day. On my four precious days off I had lots of sleeping late scheduled. So why was my alarm clock going off at 3:22 am? One reason is that I can never bring myself to set an alarm clock to a multiple of 15. The other is that I'd gotten the call the previous afternoon that we were going to shoot a T-6 in the morning. I've always loved the North American T-6 and SNJ (Navy version). In addition to being beautiful, loud, exciting warbirds, my grandfather flew them in the Navy and had his very own issued to him while he was Commanding Officer of NAF Cabaniss Field in Corpus Christi, Texas. He has always had nothing but the highest praise for this advanced trainer.
I stepped outside into the darkness and scanned what sky I could see. There was a very high and very thin broken layer. The moon was behind the layer, but was shinning through. I was concerned that there could be heavier clouds to the east, blocking direct sunlight.
Mark and I arrived at the airport just as the very slightest hint of the coming dawn could be detected to the northeast. It did look as though there was a substantial overcast covering part of the sky in that direction, but the sky was clear and starry to the north. To the south, the lights of Denver reflected off the broken layer which had now become more of an overcast. "Take what we can get" was the thought of the morning.
Over in the corner of the flourescently lit hangar, Mark was pre-flighting his L-5. I've worked with Mark more than any other photo pilot and his big green Stinson is my preferred photoship. He was busy taking out the rear seat and reversing it. The L-5's rear position has windows which open on both sides and I couldn't think of a more ideal way to shoot an airplane than facing backwards in this plane with open air on both sides. I opened the hangar door and began pulling airplanes out so that we could get the L-5 out. It was still very dark out as we mounted up. By the glow of the cockpit light, Mark ran through the checklist that would bring the L-5's engine to life. He hit the starter and the big Lycoming began to cough. With both of my windows open, I could hear the individual unmuffled pops of each cylinder from the twin exhaust stacks on either side of the airplane as Mark coaxed the engine out of its dormancy. We taxied out in the twilight. As we approached the runway, I reached around to the push-to-talk switch by the rear throttle and tapped it seven times, queuing the runway lights. After the run-up, Mark taxied into position and added power. As we accelerated, the runway lights began appearing to each side of my vision, racing back behind us. A takeoff facing rearward is a pleasantly unusual situation every time.
Mark flying the L-5
Once aloft, we flew a graceful circle around our friend Charlie's place. His cows were bedded down in the pasture. The kitchen light was on. It's not every day you beat a cow man out of the house, but we were already airborne while he was cooking eggs. Heading west toward our staging airport at Longmont and climbing, I studied the cloud cover. It looked as though the sun might be partially obscured as it rose, but the sky seemed to be clearing slightly and the cover moving south. A golden glow was now radiating off of some of the furthest clouds. We'll pull this off, I thought. I gazed at the twinkling lights of houses and small towns below. Flying between dusk and daybreak is always a meditative affair. I leaned back, resting my head on the fire extinguisher and listened to the burbling of the engine. I said a quick prayer for good light, steady hands, and safe flying. A crackling in my headset awakened me from my stupor as Mark tuned in the Longmont AWOS frequency. Before long Mark was making radio calls and we descended into the empty pattern. Flying an arcing base-to-final, Mark set the big L-Bird onto the ground with authority.
View of an L-5 landing facing rearward
We walked around the ramp for a few minutes discussing the game-plan and studying how the light was beginning to hit the foothills. Just as the first rays of sun broke the horizon we heard thunder to the south. We swung our glances upward in unison and spotted the T-6 entering a base leg for runway 29. The gear wasn't down and the engine wasn't getting any quieter. The big plane roared down toward the threshold, leveled out about 20 feet over the runway and zoomed past us, then pulled up and dropped the gear and turned back inbound. The Pratt and Whitney chewed up the still morning's silence. After landing, the Texan taxied over to our end of the ramp and shut down. It was a beautiful machine on the ground. I couldn't wait to see what it would look like in flight. It was painted in a colorful post-war Navy SNJ scheme, but we later learned it was delivered to the Army Air Force in 1944 as an AT-6D. Doug emerged from the cockpit and greeted us. Doug and Mark both work at the same airline and got the idea for this photo shoot while flying together recently. Mark introduced me and we promptly began the briefing. Doug has been flying the T-6 regularly and was confident in its ability to fly safely with the slower L-5. We discussed our plan to get the silhouette shots first while the sun was the lowest with the most color. Then we'd proceed to a reservoir to get some deep blue backdrop on some inside orbits. We'd then move to the ridges and valleys of the foothills for some rocky and shadowy backdrops. We also would attempt an approach and landing sequence. After more details on the formation itself, we bumped fists and mounted our warbirds.
Comm checks on taxi and run-ups complete, Mark departed first and turned out to the north. Doug departed and turned toward us, doing s-turns as the L-5 climbed sedately into the brilliant morning air. Although Doug was still a bit far out, I began snapping a few images as he banked over the fields below us with his nose pointed nearly at our position. I've found that sometimes "free-style" shots where the subject is maneuvering can result in some keeper images even if there is a bit of distance. When we leveled off, I guided Doug into position so that he could put himself directly between the sun and our position. I'd say, "five feet forward... ten feet up..." and Mark would relay the instructions over the radio. When he finally blocked out the sun, he saw his shadow on our plane and knew to hold position.
T-6 Silhouette
We worked our way over to the lake and began a series of outside and inside orbits. I was very pleased at how expertly Doug was handling the formation, especially the inside turns which are always tricky for an airplane that is normally faster than the lead plane. On the inside turn, the inside plane must fly noticeably slower than the lead in order to maintain position. We were concerned about how well the T-6 would slow down from the L-5's already slow 110 mph max cruise. Doug handled it like a pro. Inside turns yield some of the more dramatic images. The plane is banked steeply over the background below it and there are usually good vectors and a sense of motion in the photos and they also highlight the terrain underneath. The lake was royal blue and the surface was glassy. It wasn't unspoiled, however, as some of our orbits brought a boat and wake-boarder into frame. While I commend the wake-boarder's tenacity to get up early to seek the calmest water possible, he simply didn't fit in an image of a 65 year old military plane. Fortunately, we were able to get plenty of good material without the recreational equipment featured, but some with the boat wake made for some interesting vectors.
Over water
After several orbits we decided to leave the lake, I'm sure much to the relief of those in some of the houses near the shore who were certainly awakened by the sound of the two warplanes. On our way to our next shooting area, we instructed Doug to perform some more free-style maneuvers while en-route. We flew up and down some of the north-south oriented hogbacks in the foothills. These layers of sediments were shoved out of the way millions of years ago as the core of the Rocky Mountains broke through the plains. Today they cast great shadows well into the morning on their west sides while the east flanks glow in the morning light. It is an area of contrasts and we positioned Doug over the shadows to take advantage of this contrast. The brightly colored plane glowed with warmth over the darkness below. After working that angle, I'd have him switch sides and compose images with the glowing rocks complimenting the T-6's stunning paintwork.
Over shadow
We performed a few more orbits with different angles and I was satisfied with the material we'd collected. Mark had been relaying most of my instructions to Doug, but I put the camera down and reached for the push-to-talk switch. "Alright Doug, solid work. I think we can head back to the airport now and try for a landing shot." His answer was positive, but his voice had a hint of relief. He'd clearly been working hard on this flight. "OK, guys. Sounds good. Let's do it."
Mark guided us toward Longmont. Doug extended the landing gear and followed us to a downwind. He and Mark coordinated the approach. We would position him on final, then Doug would stop flying off of us and concentrate on the approach while Mark held the L-5 in position above him. Shortly before touchdown, we'd initiate a go around, break formation and land. We flew a long final, giving me plenty of opportunities to slow the shutter speed down to give the background a touch of motion as the big North American flew lower and lower over it. In the viewfinder, I saw Doug cross the threshold as his shadow came into view and got closer and closer to meeting the main wheels. They never quite met as Doug called for the go-around, added power and began climbing back up toward our position, retracting the gear. After leveling off, we broke formation and landed separately.
Approach-to-landing
On the ground we were all grins, but did a debriefing discussion and looked over some of the raw photos on the camera. I don't think we've ever done a photo flight that went that smoothly. There were virtually no squawks or negative issues we could think of. The conditions could not have been more perfect and our team was rock solid in the air. We watched as Doug climbed back in the T-6, fired up the Pratt and Whitney once again and taxied for departure. I took photos of his departure and the subsequent high-speed pass. Mark and I climbed back in the L-5 and departed, reflecting on a near-perfect flight.
Doug and Mark
