Unicycle Bastards Kick Zombie Ass

I’ve long wanted to photograph mountain unicycling. Found a sweet event in North Carolina later this year, but I was hoping to find something a little closer to home. And that’s when I stumbled upon an old link for Portland’s Unicycle Bastards. A quick glance and I saw that they were filming on Super Bowl Sunday for a webisode of their series, “Unicycle Bastards Kick Zombie Ass.”

Kick ass is right!

This movie production and my ongoing project have a lot in common: extremely modest budgets. Everyone there was volunteering their time and enthusiasm to be a part of something fun(ny).

I’ve long wanted to document behind the scenes of a sports movie. While this might not be “Hoosiers,” it did involve a group of skilled cyclists taking on the opposition. I’d like to see Jimmy Chitwood on a unicycle for that game-winning shot against South Bend.

Everyone was great about letting me shadow the filming. They even tried to recruit me as a zombie, but I had to pass. It’s hard to take photos when you’re dead meat.

Significant Shrinkage

In my mind’s eye, when I think of polar plunges, I think of large, elderly, nude men diving into frozen Siberian lakes as part of an insane annual ritual.

On Saturday, I shot something very different – but something also very Portland – as dozens of people took a dip in the chilly Columbia River as part of a fundraiser for Special Olympics.

The more I track down weird sporting events, the more I realize it’s really all about the costumes. Apparently, Halloween once a year isn’t enough for Americans. Or Vikings.

There was a healthy turnout of excited and anxious divers. The pomp and circumstance dragged things on a bit too long, messing with people’s determination a little.

I had thought everyone would dive in at the same time, but the organizers broke it up into a dozen groups. That was nice of them. It allowed me multiple scenarios to shoot.

In many ways, I’m a wimp. And I was again on Saturday, staying nice and dry – and warm – as folks froze their tails off in the river.

I was trying to imagine beforehand if diving in would have helped or hurt my photos. Perhaps if this was Siberia and not Portland, I might have been bolder.

My photos here don’t necessarily convey a sense of how cold it really was. Hell, with the cloudy skies and bikini ladies, folks might even think that this was summertime in Oregon.

Happy Nude Year

The Oregon Ducks and the teams of the Lingerie Football League have a lot in common: their football squads are probably known more nationwide for their uniforms (or lack thereof) than for their play.

So while the Ducks were getting spanked in the Rose Bowl on New Year’s Day, I was in suburban Seattle covering the Mist as they battled the Dallas Desire.

Back in July, I shot the Mist’s t-raining camp. But that was practice. I wanted action. So I started 2010 with the Mist’s second and final home game held, ironically, at the ShoWare Center in Kent.

One of the reasons why I wasn’t satisfied with the camp was that the players weren’t in uniform. And not that I blame them. These game uniforms can’t really be designed for comfort.

On the flip side, I felt a little dorky photographing women in their skivvies with a long lens. Ok, more than a little dorky. But this league makes no illusions: it’s about sexy, barely-nude women playing football. (Why do I imagine my Google search hits will skyrocket with that last sentence?)

At halftime, a fan was selected to try his luck tackling one of the Seattle players. He failed miserably.

The game, too, seemed to slip away quickly. Two halves of 17-minutes of running clock doesn’t seem like a lot. I spent a lot of time trying to make an ironic, iconic image.

If I come back again, I think I’ll bring the 400mm, something I don’t use enough. There’s a Chip Litherland-super-tight detail shot to be had. I’m not used to thinking in that way, so I usually rely on wider glass.

Again, there are no illusions about what this league is about. I’ve read that the league hands out fines if players wear anything under their uniform. Yes, wardrobe malfunctions are a welcome part of the game. And I did have several frames with a nipple popping out. None of those photos was really a good photo, other than evidence that women have nipples. Breaking news.

The arena, though half-full at best, had a certain sexual energy like that in a strip club. The fans, mostly male (go figure), were really into the game, more interested in collisions than touchdowns. I have a feeling if quizzed, not a single fan could have told you the score of the game – or cared.