crossthatbridge

Temperate Rainforests and World-Class Volcanoes

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 23:55:00 +0000

Good 'ol Steve! My editor at GoNomad.com promptly posted my latest article called "The Lake Region of Chile: Temperate Rainforests and World-Class Volcanoes." Pictured in this photo are 2 Huilliche women blessing the Canelo tree (cinnamon tree) in the Puyehue National Park. Afterwards, the rest of the indigenous people paraded in a circle around the tree blowing the bull horn and playing guitars. Read the article to learn why this country has more beauty than New Zealand, is far more affordable and half the distance to get to.

Chile Meets Soho

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 11:31:00 +0000

It's ironic that I should stumble upon this store in NYC this week exclusively about Chile while writing my travel article about Chile. It's called Puro Chile and sits at 161 Grand Street in the Soho district. It just opened on September 24 as a way to promote Chilean products in the United States, specifically New York City.

Inside is a stream of cultural and theme-driven activities including a store dedicated to all the rare Chilean wines I enjoyed so much while on assignment in Chile a few months ago.

The website says "It's the first space of this type in the world, dedicated to promote the country as a brand, Pure Chile’s goal is to promote, test and sell unique and high quality Chilean products and services, which include primarily Chilean cuisine, wine, and souvenirs."

So, this means I can pick up all those gifts that wouldn't fit into my suitcase and nobody will know the difference. I know where I'll be doing my Christmas shopping this year.

Cozy Cottages in a Concrete Jungle

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 23:35:00 +0000

Pomander Walk is a village-in-a-city, a tiny refuge from the noise and clutter of Manhattan where everybody knows their neighbors and the pedestrian-only street provides security for all.

My showbiz friend Andrea lives here and benevolently let me bunk here until Wednesday. She might need a forklift to get me to move because I'm in love with the "Walk".

Working all day in a concrete high-rise jungle, it's beyond comforting coming home to one of 27 Tudor-style homes of brick, stucco and timber. Each have small garden plots and half-blooming flower pots planted before the door.

The two story, two-bedroom houses were a genuine steal in the early 80's but today owners can pitch one for a couple million and get it. And why not? Living here beats having a doorman, elevator or garage any time. It's on the Upper West side close to Riverside Park and dozens of restaurants and retail stores.

For more interest in this NYC gem check out this New York Times article.

The Curse of Billy Penn

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 02:34:00 +0000

Over an Irish dinner of shepherd's pie and a pint of stout, Adam and Matt gave me the lowdown on the 'The Curse of William Penn'. Even though the curse ended on October 29, 2008 (one year ago today) it's a cute story to share.

A statue of William Penn (the city founder) was placed on top of City Hall during construction between 1871 and 1901. Builders intended it to be the highest point ever reached in Philly and it was until 1987.

Before that, Philly was the proud home of victorious sports teams like the Flyers who won Stanley Cups in 1974 and '75 and the Eagles triumphant 3 NFL Championships between 1948 and '60.

But as soon as Liberty One was erected, a building surpassing William Penn by almost 450 feet, the curse began. The curse goes like this; Philly would have the worst sports record in the nation so long as Penn's view of his city was obstructed. And so it went that no city went longer without a professional sports win than Philadelphia.

That is until this time last year. Last October 29th, the Philadelphia Phillies were dancing in the streets and knocking over cars. It was game 5 in the World Series against the Tampa Bay Rays and Utley just faked a throw to first so that he could take out Bartlett at home. It was the tipping point for the Phillies and Billy Penn's curse fell all 548 feet.

Birthplace of American Independence

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 02:05:00 +0000

Being an NPR addict, I heard of WHYY radio long before I ever visited because of one person, Terry Gross. Gross is the gifted producer and host of Fresh Air, a weekly, one-hour nationally syndicated talk show produced at the WHYY studios. At the beginning of every episode the introduction repeats the stations call letters, hence what I associate Philadelphia with. But Philly is so much more.

There are almost 1.8 million people that live here making it the fifth-largest city in the country. And, despite the issues that plague every major metropolitan area (lack of jobs, homelessness, crime) it's still a fabulous city to eat, play, sleep and shop.

I didn't buy any new duds but it was tempting because Philadelphia does not tax clothing. Nearly everything right now has a Philly logo on it rooting for another World Series win starting with Game 1 tonight.

The Mural Arts Program of Philadelphia

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 02:21:00 +0000

No other city knows how to take back abandoned lots and graffiti-laden buildings for revitalization better than Philadelphia. They scoop up sides of police stations, schools and apartment complexes and color over with buckets of paint, reforming an ugly wall into a work of art.

This is just one of the many murals I saw while Diana drove up and down Walnut Street in South Philly. Others include the activism of Mahatma Gandhi, a series of water inspired murals that flow like a river and a 'cops & kids' initiative.

The murals usually take from three-to-six months to finish, it's a collaboration of local residents and community meetings. The beautification program is heavily shaped by many diverse faces, some that might appear in the drawing while the artist draws. The finish product acts like a catalyst for positive social change and discourages future graffiti.

Newark could benefit greatly from this.

Mending Glass in Philadelphia

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 18:44:00 +0000

Thank you to all for the support and helpful notes sent after my Newark folly. What a horrible sense of violation. One of the two cameras that was stolen had shot dozens of countries - it had captured everything from disappearing glaciers in Greenland to the yummy sour-toe cocktail in the Yukon. Odds are good its days of shooting legitimate travel stories are O-V-E-R.

After taping a thin clear piece of plastic to the empty window I hit the road for a gig in Philly. The flimsy window did the trick for about 30 miles through a blinding thunderstorm and pelting rain but then a giant gust of cold wind tore it away. I nabbed it just before it flew into traffic.

The experience was truly white knuckle but I arrived safely just before midnight safe and sound.

Because I'm on assignment, Diana and David, my new best friends in Philly, have helped contact my insurance companies and find a venue to fix the car. Thankfully I won't have to risk driving back to Albany without a window.

In the meantime, my Philadelphia client, who intended to use the camera that was stolen had no choice but to use the EX3. That one was spared.

Tonight, we're working at the E-Patient Connections Conference at the beautiful and historic Park Hyatt Bellevue. It's a 2-day forum about how to connect and empower digital health consumers. Here's a little sample:

Sins on Sacred Ground, only in Newark, New Jersey

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 01:34:00 +0000

Well, there goes that new car smell! In less than a week of owning my new blue Mazda, vandals smashed open the drivers side window and stole all my precious cargo. In a matter of seconds (presumably) 2 digital video cameras, a monitor, a tripod and dozens of ancillary production equipment was ripped from the backseat.

It's no surprise that the crime took place in broad daylight, only 2 streets from a police station. And, it's no surprise that nobody who may have witnessed the caper spoke up about it. Furthermore, it's no surprise that the sinners sinned on sacred ground.

Yup, only in a rotten city like Newark, New Jersey (the armpit of America) would such a bold and audacious offense take place.

Unfortunately, the beautiful Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart, a National Historic Landmark sits smack dab in the middle of this lawless metropolis. My car was parked less than 20 feet from where I stood videotaping interiors including the pulpit and sanctuary. The stone walls are so thick that was probably the reason I didn't hear the security alarm go off.

I expected to blog about how well everything went in Newark when I was done taping. This house of worship is deserving of a full page spread and dozens of quotes. Regrettably, it will have to wait until I stop lamenting over my lost camera. Again, Newark sucks.

A Solemn Sculpture in Bayonne, New Jersey

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 01:09:00 +0000

Besides all the fantastic Italian and Polish restaurants in Bayonne, New Jersey, there's another reason to visit - the Harbor View Park. It's a man-made peninsula that was formerly used by the military as a supply center during WWII and Desert Storm. Today, it's a two-acre park on the river's edge perfect for gazing upon lower Manhattan, the Statue of Liberty and the Staten Island ferry.

And, as a solemn reminder of 9/11, there's also a memorial called "To the Struggle Against World Terrorism" that was gifted to the city in 2006 by one of Russian's most prolific sculptors, Zurab Tsreteli.

The 10-story high sculpture is made up of a 100-foot tall rectangular bronze block with a fissure down the middle and a polished titanium teardrop hanging in the middle. The teardrop is said to represents the tears that were shed in Moscow for the 9/11 victims. Names of nearly 3,000 killed in both the '93 and '01 Trade Center bombings are etched in the base.

The city is a fitting location for the sculpture because Bayonne was a staging area on 9/11 for so many New York City evacuees. My reporter from my CBS days and I spent many hours at this location and I'll never forget the families who implored us for information when we had none to give. Their grief was unbearable.

I was in Bayonne on Tuesday for much happier circumstances - the videotaping of a spanking new luxury apartment building called Alexan View. A much nicer job, indeed.

From St. Patrick to Saint Priscilla, Good Fortune Abounds

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 13:22:00 +0000

Monsignor Ritchie let us videotape every square inch of the most stunning Gothic Cathedral in the U.S. - St. Patrick's Cathedral. That included the great rose window, all the altars, hundreds of colorful stained-glass windows, the famous Pietà sculpture and the baptismal font. Three crews videotaped in between scores of tourists and services capturing enough footage to produce 2 episodes for a new Catholic travel show called "The Faithful Traveler."

Tommy took reign of the windows, David sprayed wides of the nave, transepts and columns and Diana von Glahn and me raced through dozens of stand-ups - that's television talk for when the host walks and talks in front of the camera.

It took roughly 2 months to prepare for this visit and Diana worked tirelessly to coordinate every detail. In the morning, she handed out small laminated shot sheets attached to lanyards and markers so we could keep track of our shots. At noon time she directed us to Rockefeller Plaza for eats. And then, finally, when all of us were exhausted and tired, she did me the greatest favor of all - she introduced me to her friend Priscilla.

If it not were for Priscilla and her Girl Scout mentality I'd still be sitting in my new blue Mazda. Idiot me left the lights on in my car and yes, once again, a friendly New Yorker came to my rescue.

I thought my days of carrying jumper cables were over when I retired my lemon on Friday. I tossed them away in my garage thinking I'd never need them again. But Priscilla, a Harlem native who doesn't even own a car, has a membership with Triple A (go figure) and called on my behalf.

How happy (and blessed) am I to always be bumping into renaissance women like Priscilla? This marks the 8th or 9th time I've received free jumps from NYC strangers and I'm sure it won't be the last. Thanks girls.

Silversun Pickups at Northern Lights

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 02:47:00 +0000

The Silversun Pickups, a college indie favorite, played Clifton Park's Northern Lights last night. Debbie tossed a free extra ticket my way when Karen belly-ached about getting up early for school. She's a guidance counselor, it's understandable. Instead, I quickly accepted, regardless of the yawning I'd be doing after midnight.

It felt a little strange (but in a good way) fishing out my license to prove my age at the door. Not that you needed to be twenty-one to see the show. Dozens of underage high school and college students filled the floor, many donning fashions I wore in the 1980s (Cindy Lauper mini skirts, etc...) This was a fashion time warp we weren't expecting.

Debbie is tiny making it impossible to see the band from the back. So I snagged her hand and lead her to the front. With some healthy pushing and shoving (we earned that right) inside the standing room only we scored a smidgen of space near the front.

Normally, on the radio or MTV, SSPU sounds fantastic, but last night, (not sure who to blame) they were, well, extremely over-modulated and uncomfortably distorted. It must have been the audio tech, though, again, not sure, it might have been a faulty effects pedal.

Regardless, they truly are a fantastic band, tearing away at conventions with an atypical female bass player and recording music with legendary producer Butch Vig. He's the guy who produced Green Day, Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins.

After 20 minutes, Deb and I capitulated our killer spot, front and center, to escape the feedback loop. It was just too much for us 'ol ladies' who are used to perfection. Behind the audio booth and watching from a video projection screen we agreed that the sound improved as the show went on. Perhaps the sound mixer figured out the impedance problem...

Our evening folded with a drive-through cheeseburger run at Wendys - exactly how I would have done it back when I was a student.

Swapping a Lemon for an Orange

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 12:55:00 +0000

My poor black Malibu. Racing up and down the Northway, the Mass Pike, I-90 and all over Albany plus packing her to the hilt with heavy video equipment. She turned over 100,000 miles a few months ago and since then has been crumbling to pieces.

First, the heater core decided to wage war with my mechanic and was never fixed. Rather than breath dangerous toxic fumes, I donned extra layers and a thick wool blanket to keep warm on a recent drive to Buffalo. The windows stayed cracked just in case residual smells leaked in. The cabin was a biting 38 degrees all the way there and back.

Second, the car battery died on the crowded streets of New York last week. The four way flashers are notorious for draining the battery when the car is turned off, even after only a few minutes. But strangers become friends when they see a damsel in distress and rush to help.

Third, the fuse died on the cigarette lighter leaving me without a GPS, cell, battery charger and I-Pod. Try finding 25 random venues throughout Rochester without a map.

And the list goes on and on and on.

Finally, on Friday, I had a few minutes before another journey to NYC, dragging the sputtering beast into Orange Motors, for a fair trade.

In less than an hour I buried the Chevy for a sporty cobalt blue Mazda 5 hatchback. A working heater, reliable battery and not 1 but 2 cigarette lighters, this is my first foreign car and I'm back on track to let the good times roll.

A Silent Sentry at RIT

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 12:30:00 +0000

Can you imagine the logistics needed to install this 110-ton, 73-foot high, stainless steel-bronze work of art on the RIT campus? The Sentinel, as it's called, is the largest sculpture on any campus across the U.S. Eye-spied the titanic sculpture while spraying college life at the Rochester Institute of Technology yesterday.

It was presented in 2003 by Albert Paley with a endowment from RIT's College of Imaging Arts and Sciences. Who knew that this upstate school offered high-end programs in glass, woodworking, metal crafts, ceramics and furniture design? When I think of art and design I think 'Pratt' or 'RISD'.

But the students I spoke to said the identity of the RIT campus is just as rich with art and architecture as those schools. May this sculpture be just the beginning of many more to come.

The Snapshot City

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 02:00:00 +0000

Rochester isn't the scary place I was warned it was. Oh sure, the crime stats are higher than those in Albany but so is the population, over 125,000 more people. Mutti worked here in the late '60s and shares ugly stories about Lake Avenue but large swaths of neighborhoods have clearly improved since then.

I'm on assignment in Rochester today and the 'Snapshot' city feels safe, clean and comfortable, albeit driving is terribly confusing. Too many one-way road signs and the inner loop is a bit schizophrenic. But the views, parks, theaters, restaurants, etc., are all quite stunning, no doubt about that.

This little photo is the Times Square Building, located across from the Blue Cross Arena close to the Genesee River . Click on it to get a better visual of the fantastic winged summit with Art Deco flare. It was constructed in 1929 for the Genesee Valley Trust Company.

Throughout the city there are a large number of streamlined and angular construction. Inspired development has also turned an once abandoned factory district on the western edge of downtown into a thriving residential and commercial center. The place feels like Manhattan with cozy loft apartments and upscale restaurants on every corner.

Somebody is doing something right in Rochester, perhaps Mayor Duffy? More on other points of interest throughout Monroe County tomorrow.

Staying Sassy at the Sassafras

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 21:12:00 +0000

The homey little B&B smells like Grandmas and the beds are, nostalgically, just as comfy. I'm right at home in Lancaster, NY this week, spending my evenings at the Sassafras and my days with several clients in the Buffalo area.

The stairs at Sassafras creek and crack but the thick green carpet feels wonderful on my aching heals. The comforts and familiarity of wood burning fireplaces, old vintage furniture, high Tudor ceilings and antique chandeliers beats a sterile Motel 6 any day.

I love staying in a B&B, especially when I'm the only one roaming about before bedtime - peering into Victorian parlor rooms, pulling a good book from a dusty shelf, stepping back in time to when horse and buggies clopped down main street.

In the morning, Ken cooks up a mean homemade quiche followed by fresh fruit and a steaming cup of Chai. This intimate 1891 Queen Anne-style home is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. All the rooms have private baths or showers with all new electric and plumbing.

It shouldn't surprise me that I should pick a large, sunny room on the east side of the house lived in by Dr. Lester for over eighty years. She was an early feminist who served as the first woman to be the chair of a department in the College of Arts and Sciences at the University of Buffalo. Woman Power!

Supreme Court Landmarks in NYC

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 01:27:00 +0000

Today was spent spraying exteriors of the beautiful New York County Supreme Court building at 60 Centre Street in New York City. While skateboarders toyed around the fountains across the street in Foley Square, I was busy collecting b-roll (pretty shots) for a tv show called...

Actually, it's best that I keep that a secret until my producer says it's okay to release. I can tell you that the host of this popular CW program used the staircase and pillars as a backdrop for her promo read. Maybe you'll catch it next Spring when (or if) it debuts again.

Within this area are several other designated landmarks like the Manhattan Criminal Court, the DA's office, the Emigrant Industrial Savings Bank Building, the St. Andrew Church, the United States Court House, the New York County Civil Court, the Mayors Building and dozens more. The Emigrant is the oldest savings bank in New York City and the largest privately owned bank in the country.

Starcode Sings for PilotGirl Productions

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 02:25:00 +0000

PilotGirl Productions spent the day shooting a music video in Manhattan today. Formerly known as Martly, the 4-member Starcode ripped through their latest single called "I Found a Way" at a funky hopping bar in the Village.

With the help of buddy Chris, we pushed in 100 pounds of lights, camera and audio equipment to shoot the band repeatedly play the same song dozens of times. This is just a small sample of their talents.

Between makeup, costume changes and set locations, I was wiped out but lead singer Dave O'Connor took the brunt of it. Lip-syncing saves the vocal cords, so that was a blessing, but performing for the camera takes it's toll.

The new album was released a few weeks ago on I-Tunes. Check it out and be sure to download the edited version of this catchy melody soon!

Blogging from the NYS Public Library

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 20:19:00 +0000

Captain Vincent Astor is staring at me. It's hard not to stare back. He's dressed in his Navy blues decorated with all the colors of the rainbow with a forlorn but regal grimace on his face. Vincent is just one of dozens of gold framed paintings here at the historical New York Public Library. I'm blogging from floor 3, about to loose battery power without an outlet nearby but determined to get through this last paragraph.

As I blog visitors and tours grace quietly through the room staring at faces that mean nothing to me. Perhaps they endowed their riches to the library before they died? Maybe they wrote extensive books that can be found here. The gloriously rich multi-tray ceiling just above me is more extravagant than even the Library of Congress.

There are all kinds milling about. Foreigners snapping off photos (no flash allowed), college types buried deep in research, facebook fanatics typing frantically and museum types taking in the colorful ceiling murals and limited exhibits.

Bryant Park just outside is under serious renovation. There's scaffolding up everywhere. It's not a good day for exterior photos. Just as well for me because the glorious McGraw Rotunda and Pforzheimer Collection is whispering from down the hall.

From SUNY to Jack's Studio

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 19:34:00 +0000

Yesterday was a busy day. An old college buddy from my SUNY alum days called on PilotGirl Productions to shoot studio shots of a NYC model for Glamour magazine. It had been nearly 20 years since Dan and I teamed up for a gig and this would be the first without a professor grading our work. It was a surreal experience.

I arrived at Jack's Studio just in time to score a free spot near the freight elevator. A bunch of stage hands offered to help, a first for New York, push my equipment onto the lift. My poor car gets the stuffing beat out of it everyday and yet, for a Chevy, somehow (no thanks to my mechanic) it keeps up with me.

I arrived in Studio room 7 to the smell of bacon and scrambled eggs. Dan had made a point of catering the whole affair with the best breakfast I could have asked for. That alone made the 3 hour drive down in the middle of the night worth it.

Jack's Studio is a photographers dream come true. A blank canvas all painted in bleach white, 2 cyc walls, 13" ceilings, tons of voltage, a makeup and dressing area, free wi-fi, chairs, couches and, this is the best part, a 5,100' room with a view of Manhattan and the Hudson from the south, east and west. It was a sweet place for an assignment.

Then again I'm a shooter of video and unlike photographers, I need silence. In NYC, that's a rare commodity at a premium price. Instead, anytime a helicopter or garbage truck or police car drove by I had to quiet the talent. The model was nobody you'd know but soon to be seen in front of several clothing shop windows, like Express, H&M and Ann Taylor.

The friend to Dan's right is the talented Miss Dina Pace of Pace Productions. Between her, Dan (graphic designer extraordinaire) and myself, our favorite Mass Comm teachers at Suny Plattsburgh would have passed us with flying colors.

Sneakerhead Culture

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 02:57:00 +0000

The clock tower in Lawrence, Massachusetts chimes like Big Ben and appears just as big. In fact, it's one of the world's largest clock towers, somewhere behind the Allen-Bradley Clock Tower in Wisconsin and the London-based attraction along the Thames.

Built on the banks of the Merrimack, this textile warehouse has been home to the New Balance sneaker company for many years. Built in 1906 the Ayer Mill building was once nicknamed "the eighth wonder of the world" because of its size.

I had to work inside this vintage brick treasure yesterday for New Balance. Inside are nearly 300 employees pumping out a new pair of sneakers every 22 seconds. It's a loud environment with hundreds of machines cutting, sewing, stitching, bonding and boxing running shoes.

But three floors below is a quieter spot where local athletes volunteer to test the products. The 3,000-square-foot lab is busy with technicians and engineers putting shoes through a battery of tests before they hit the sales floor.

The space includes infrared cameras, computer sensors and a 120-foot long running track with a glass plate built into the floor to measure the pressure of a shoe as it hits the surface. One of the labs includes a machine that literally smashes, twists and contorts a sneaker to determine the materials' weaknesses and strengths.

Sneaker junkies beware - the New Balance retail store on the first floor has the best prices in New England.

La Fiesta de La Tirina

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 02:33:00 +0000

Here's an entry that I didn't have a chance of posting while in Chile last week:

Chile's patron (or patroness) saint is the Virgin of Carmel and every July a huge festival takes place to honor her. But, due to the prevalence of the swine flu back in July, the town postponed the celebrations until early October.

Lucky for us, we just happened to be driving through the Pampa del Tamarugal (a vast plain in the Atacama desert) and stopped to check out the commotion. The guides let us roam for an hour, not nearly long enough to capture all the wild costumes and crazy music, but memorable just the same.

The 'Fiesta de La Tirana' is the most celebrated in Chile with upwards of 40,000 devotees singing and dancing for 24 hours for almost a full week. There are back-to-back activities performed including carrying the 'Our Lady of Mount Carmel' statue through the dusty town streets.

Flying High in Iquique, Chile

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 12:14:00 +0000

Today, I took to the friendly skies not once but twice. The first flight took me soaring precariously under 10 thin strings and the second crammed me into coach for 10 hours with a snarly attendant. I definitely preferred the first.

The friendly boys at the Altazor Flight Park in the Atacama Desert picked us up (all 4 brave souls) at the hotel this morning. I thought I would be extreme hand-gliding but the boys quickly corrected me. "No, it's paragliding, a much safer sport." I breathed a sigh of relief.

With help suiting up, I strapped my video camera to my shoulder and around the harness. There was no way I was jumping off that cliff into a blurry abyss without capturing an exclusive. This adventure needed documenting, if not for my avid fan club (thank you my loyal readers) but in case something went terribly awry there would be a black box recording for the authorities.

Mario and Nick ran effortlessly into the wind, taking flight like soaring eagles. It gave the rest of us hope. Unfortunately, Max wasn't so lucky. Being the most nervous, he suffered 3 false starts, the last one nearly tossing him into the emergency fence. Poor guy was troubled but vigilant. Finally, a giant gust lifted his parasail high into the air and away he went.

My turn came last. I wasn't nervous because I was in 'the zone', meaning that I was too busy concentrating on my shooting to remember my safety. "Run, run, run!" called out my tandem guide. We jettisoned forward with all our might and then a strong blast of wind lifted us swiftly into the air. My guide instructed me to sit down. I shifted uneasily into position while one eye stayed glued through the viewfinder.

The scene was breathtaking. It was surreal. The early morning fog was lifting and I could make out the ram-shackled city of Iquique, the endless blue Pacific and the undulating hills of the desert. The wind stayed strong and we found a few warm thermals to carry us into the clouds where the birds squatted. We did loops and spins to bump up the thrill factor. Mario, Nick and me circled each other waving in delight.

As usual, I fought the reality that the ride would soon be over. Before I was ready to land I saw the long lonely beach below me with Max already there waving me in. Down, down we glided, landing softer than a feather on a pillow. What a fabulous way to wrap up a trip to Chile.

Blessing the Canelo Tree

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 11:04:00 +0000

Earlier in a blog entry, I described the Huilliche Community, indigenous people from the Mapuche culture. I got the chance to piece together this video of their ceremonial blessing of the sacred Canelo tree or cinnamon tree.

The Giant of Atacama

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 04:58:00 +0000

In the middle of a hot barren desert lies a strange homage to the Gods. It's an engraving of a figure with long thin arms, spiky hair (Simpson-esque) and what appears to be a large round bellybutton around the waistline. It faces east away from the Pacific Ocean on a plateau that protrudes out of the desert like an island in an ocean.

The geoglyph measures 282 feet tall and half that in width making it the largest prehistoric anthropomorphic figure in the world. It was shaped using thousands of tiny stones arranged by many different indigenous cultures somewhere around 1000AD.

This area is called Unita Hill and 'The Giant of Atacama' attracts visitors from all over the world. There are theories that say the figure has something to do with the changing seasons, stars and moon but nobody can be certain.

What surprises me most about this World Heritage Site is that despite nature's rough elements and human vandals, it has never been completely destroyed. Workers have retraced it so that it appears bolder from a distance but that is all they have fixed.

Trekking to the top of it was an unusual exception. On the farside is a panoramic view of miles of mountain range and windswept sand. Far off in the distance is a little oasis where flowers and fruit trees dot the desert.

It's deceiving but the altitude makes the short trek to the top a whole lot tougher than usual. Carrying my tripod, video and still camera I made it panting, wheezing and gasping for breath. My fellow 75 year old journalist nearly raced me there.

Throbbing Head, Beautiful Skies

noreply@blogger.com (Sonja Stark of PilotGirl™) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 21:35:00 +0000

Describing the last 2 days in Chile as "roughing it" is to put it mildly. Compared to the luxuries we spoiled press people are used to, living without electricity, water and internet was a real challenge. But the chance to see wild llamas, alpacas, flamingoes and indigenous cultures high in the hills of the world's driest desert made it all worth it.

The bus chugged along at 25 RPMs, up and over altitudes so high that even the carburetor had difficulty feeding oxygen to the engine to move faster. A slow crawl of 20 mph was all it could muster. At 12,000 feet, we battled popping ears, blood-shot eyes and splitting headaches. The pressure on my brain felt like a vice-grip.

But bodies adjust quickly and after arriving, we enjoyed a hearty meal of llama meat with quinoa (grain-like rice) then retired to shared bunk beds with soft feather comforters. "Move slowly" advised our guide "your body tires quickly here." He was right. After hauling my suitcase from the bus to my bedroom (only a couple dozen feet) I was winded and needed to sit down.

This is normal living for those who run the lodge. 24 family members of the Aymara culture live at the Taypi Samanan Uta in the Laguna Del Huaco reserve. Their home sits in a valley facing Bolivia in the distance and a rare white salt flat lagoon where hundreds of pink flamingoes migrate to to lay eggs. The facilities include regular toilets, sinks and showers but water is stored in big plastic jugs and used sparingly as you wash. Lights, appliances and power sources are usable only a few hours a day.

As the sun set in the west it cast a rainbow of colors on the clouds, mountains and desertscape. The Aymara people performed a ceremonial dance with musicians playing melodic instruments like the zampona, bombo and charango. Curious boys, not privy to television, gathered behind my camera to peer through the viewfinder while I taped the festivities.

This is springtime in the desert but at night temperatures fall to almost freezing. Small electric heaters are available but we were warned that they zap oxygen from the air so, wisely, we bundled up instead.

This place is not for the faint of heart but if you want an experience like none other this is where you want to be. It's not unusual then that 'Taypi Saman Uta' translation means "The house to rest in at the center of a very special place."