I have a bit of a confession to make about this shot. It was taken as a sort of joke, not a serious photographic attempt at all. I know, what was I thinking?
I was on my way back from Hanging Rock at Effigy Mounds, exhausted and hurting beyond anything I had experienced in years, and this was only less than half a mile of the three mile walk back to my car. I was pumping my legs like an automaton, refusing to stop or sit down as I seriously feared my joints might freeze up and I wouldn’t be able to start again. The only thing in my favor was that there was a constant cool breeze. Had this been a humid 95 degree day in August I would have been toast.
Anyway, I came upon this bridge and did actually stop for a moment. I looked at that hill in front of me, and had a vague notion of taking a snapshot of it and then elongating the hill upward to make it look in the photo like it did in my imagination: five times longer and steeper.
When I first started culling the photos from this trip a day after I took it (the pain in my muscles and joints even worse than the day before) I completely passed over this photo as completely unremarkable and worth no effort. Fortunately I took another look at it when I was more rested and recovered.