As with all our past featured photographers here on Backcountry Pilot, I took notice of Evan Robinson with one of his very first posts in the forum.
He chimed in to share his tale of finding his new airplane, a gorgeously restored Piper Tri-Pacer. But while the airplane was clearly a blue ribbon specimen, his casual photos of the bird had a quality that blew my mind and captured my interest. Just as you can always tell when someone has spent a few mortgage payments on a lens, Evan's photos had a character of color and lighting that was way beyond anything I've seen.
Evan responded to one of my calls for content with a charged-up trip report about his first ever fly-in, again littered with frame after frame of rich color, plays on hazy golden light, and ultra-crisp definition. What was this guy doing so right?
It turns out he's a professional.
Months of texting back and forth, comparing notes of cameras/techniques, flying short-wing Pipers, proposing lofty ideas for combining our efforts to create video...soon Evan and I were friends. He has great story to tell about his career and life, and has packed a lot into his 28 years. I'm proud to showcase some of his flying-related work here for the BCP audience as he's the first featured photographer of 2019.
I asked him a few questions about flying, life, and photography in an attempt to maybe reveal the secret to his magic... —Zane Jacobson/Editor
Six Questions
BP How did you begin flying?
ERFlying was always on my radar— my grandfather flew a Cessna 195 and Beech 18 into the 90s— but by the time I was old enough to try the left seat, he'd sold his Baron and put the logbook in the drawer. Getting a license was relegated to the back burner, one of those, when older, have money and time, hobbies to address another day. Three years ago, a few events conspired to kickstart my journey as a pilot.
Morning gold dust at High Sierra 2018
Shattering my leg after getting too friendly with a tree while snowboarding in Colorado gave me some free time— no sports for a while! A close friend beginning his PPL meant that ground school videos replaced Game of Thrones watching during my regular visits to New York. The last puzzle piece fell into place when my wife, Nicole, needed to spend three months in Minnesota during the summer for work. What was I going to do in Minneapolis for 10 weeks? I always remembered my grandfather saying that it was better to learn to fly in a place with cows instead of cars on the ground, and once we saw that her corporate apartment was going to be within 25 minutes of an airport with an AOPA honor roll flight school, the gears started to turn.
My newly befriended 170 wingmen in the desert, October 2018.
After a few calls, the chief pilot at a local flight school agreed to a shotgun wedding— he cleared his calendar, and took on the task of bringing me from zero to private pilot in just over a month. Benjamin wasn't just another guy trying to build hours for the airlines. He had almost 500 hours in Citabrias, loved tube and rag planes, stick and rudder skills, and making short field landings truly short. Bleeding off energy over the runway was not encouraged, and flying out of trim was a sin. I owe him a debt of gratitude for that dedication to teaching good fundamentals, instead of just trying to prepare me for a check ride in a rush.
40.4 Hours in the logbook, check ride complete and Private Pilot's License in hand
BP Do you own an airplane? When/how did you decide to buy instead of renting?
ERMy first ride in a Tri-Pacer was exciting...but not as exciting as my wife's first ride in a Cessna 172. A newly minted private pilot, I was excited to show Nicole how beautiful the world looked from a few thousand feet up, to be there alongside the love of my life as she experienced flight in a small airplane for the very first time. We never made it a thousand feet up. After takeoff we had a partial power failure, and I got to return very quickly to the same runway where I'd done my first practice engine-out just 20 days before.
The Tri-Pacer always feels more at home in the mountains— what feels slow in the city feels just right over rugged terrain. VIDEOThe experience was a sobering one— did I miss something during the run-up? Did I make the right call with the 180, or had I pushed my luck assuming that the engine would continue to make partial power so that we could get back to the runway, when there was a decent field to land in straight ahead? After a bottle of wine that night, we decided that the safest thing to do would be to buy our own airplane, and the hunt was on.
BP Your choice in aircraft is impeccable. How did you end up choosing a PA-22, and why would you say it's the greatest 4-place light aircraft ever?
ER Reading all the threads about C-170s vs PA-22s is great, but five minutes in both planes, and the differences are so palpable it's hard to believe how much debate there is about the aircraft. The PA-22 is hundreds of pounds lighter, and the short wing, lightweight aircraft is a blast to fly. The roll rate is killer, the load carrying is incredible, and we've got a 38 MPH stall + 135 MPH cruise aircraft for under $50K. Thank goodness it looks like a milk stool, takes more work to land than a Cessna, and requires a morning yoga session to stay flexible enough to crawl from the wrong side of the airplane into the pilot's seat. Otherwise they'd be much, much more expensive planes.
Flying the Tri Pacer back to its new home, Kenosha KENW.
We've taken our Tri-Pacer from Chicago to Key West, from Montana to McCall, Idaho, and many places in between. It's not the fastest, or the slowest plane. The tires aren't big, and they aren't tiny either. In a world of compromise, it is a great trade-off for us. We can get all four seats filled, have weight left over for baggage, and fly the 1.5 hours to our family's ranch that would take 4.5 hours in a car. We can shuttle in a full Yeti cooler, Pelican cases filled with camera gear, and all the cooking tools we'd want at gross weight to Johnson Creek— then empty the plane, run with two hours of fuel, and land Wilson Bar next to the Super Cubs. We're jealous when the guys in RV-7s show up in half the time, and when the Maule guys unpack their plane with 300 pounds of gear at the strips we can only get to lightly loaded, but for our price point and mission, the PA-22 hasn't let us down yet.
The morning commute from Johnson Creek to McCall, Idaho to get training and fuel in the backcountry.
BP Were you always interested in backcountry/bush flying? What is it that you enjoy about backcountry flying?
ERAs a kid, vacation was heading to the Sierra Nevadas to mountain bike, camp, fish, and hike— the mountains in California, and throughout the west coast, were my childhood playground. Instead of trips to the park after school, my mom would take me up into the canyons behind our house every day, to play in the creek, catch lizards, and climb trees. My grandfather used to fly his buddies from California to Alaska for fishing trips every summer, so my idea of flying has always been bush flying— I figured that commercial airlines were there for the city stuff, and the reason to have an airplane was to go where the airlines can't, or won't.
Landing for an audience VIDEOAs somebody who cares about the outdoors, it's also a big perk that an airplane is the lowest impact way to visit the most beautiful parts of the world. My Jeep gets the same gas mileage as my PA-22, but it leaves big tire tracks, crushing flora and fauna all the way to our campsite. That's assuming we even survive Friday afternoon traffic on the 405 freeway, bumper to bumper hell crawling along at 5 MPH. Hopping into the Tri-Pacer by 5:00 PM gets us to most edges of California by 7:00 PM, just in time to set up camp before the summer sun sets— and instead of staring at tail lights all the way there, we've gotten a birds eye view of our favorite mountains, the same ones we've spent years hiking and mountain biking around.
Crossing the Tetons in Wyoming with a buddy's Cherokee Six, bound from LA to NYC with a quick ski stop in Jackson Hole during the coldest week on record in US history in the midwest.
The precision, and autonomy, of backcountry flying, is immensely appealing. Finding a backcountry strip, circling over head, making the first low pass, figuring out approach and departure turns, abort points, and judging the winds and runway surface before even considering a landing is a process that requires undivided focus. A state of flow takes over, and pushes away all of life's nagging thoughts— you really don't care if the Amazon Prime order of toilet paper is still arriving on time back at home, because everything you need is in your airplane, and it's your job to safely get that airplane onto the ground in a place where you can also safely get it off the ground again. Everybody on BackCountry Pilot knows, it's one of the most rewarding feelings in the world. Once the engine is off, the campfire is going, and the stars come out, the unadulterated sounds of nature take over and it feels like an incredible privilege to be there in the middle of nowhere.
Landing at Gravvely Valley in the PA-22/20, my first tailwheel experience was in the Pacer, known for its docile ground characteristics...or not.
BP Are you a professional in a photography/video career? What are your other adventure hobbies/passions? Do you shoot photos of those as well?
ER I create advertising images and commercials for high growth brands around the world. The job rewards curiosity, so there's a constant stream of interests that turn into passions and hobbies— skill acquisition has become something of a meta-hobby.
A recent shoot in Argentina had me hooked on the idea of open fire grilling. Rather than buying a new grill, I went a different route. Learning to weld, then creating a new grill that combined elements of Argentine, Uruguayan, and Santa Maria style BBQs is an easy example of an innocent hobby that transformed into an obsession. Something similar happened when I got interested in playing guitar as a kid— instead of driving down to Guitar Center to buy a few pedals and an amp, my dad and I started tinkering with circuits in the garage. He helped me learn the basics of circuit design, and soon I was designing my own distortions and fuzzes, rewiring all of my guitars and getting custom pickups made for them, and changing transformers in my amps to get better tone. My mom went to culinary school before I was born, so food has always been a big part of my life as well, which plays into much of the work I do for clients— photographing beautiful dishes for makers of high end home goods, or restaurants, becomes a much more rewarding collaboration when we can all speak the same food language.
My first air to air shooting as a flight of two at sunset near Medford, Oregon - a bit like aerial ballet.
I'll generally leave the camera behind when learning something new— with a camera in hand, I focus on the lighting in the room, or rearranging the work bench to make for a better frame— which is enjoyable in a different way, but it takes mental energy away from the skill acquisition. Some guys can do it, but they have more mental bandwidth than I do. Once the skill becomes a bit more comfortable, then the camera appears. I only shot a handful of photos in the Tri-Pacer during its first 150 hours with me— but now, the camera is by my side for every flight. There's minimal differentiation for me between a work day and a non-work day. "Choose a job you love, and you'll never have to work a day in your life" makes me laugh— by choosing something that I love to do, every day is work, because that's what I want in life— to constantly find new, interesting ways to create. Work, creativity, and play are all intertwined, and part of each day.
BP Your photography is amazing, with an especially crisp and saturated artful look. What are you looking for when you shoot? What makes you pull out the camera when you're flying?
ERThat's kind, but nature is doing the hard work, I'm just lucky to fly around some beautiful places. That being said, the most beautiful mountain range in the world is going to look like a smudge on the windshield if it's a foggy day with flat light. Shadows create shape, texture, and interest - so I'm generally shooting towards the sun, which is a less common stylistic choice for aerial photography.
The smoke and haze from nearby wildfires gave texture to the mountains, and there's nothing like a Pacer to give size context.
Before grabbing a camera in the plane, shooting landscapes was pretty low on my list of things I'd like to spend Saturday doing. Waiting for clouds to move and the light to change was about as exciting as watching paint dry. Now, clouds fascinate me, so I wouldn't mind waiting for them to move— that's a decent chunk of the time as a pilot anyway, right?
With an airplane, I can travel miles in minutes, and get the lighting that I'm interested in by flying around whatever cloud is blocking my light. That flexibility puts me back in a place of control, much the way that artificial light provides the control for 99% of my advertising work on the ground.
There were clouds on one side of this lake. So we flew to the other. Lighting problem solved.
BP How deliberate are you with your composition? Do you ever think: "This shot is different or innovative"? Or do you just fire away and sort it out later?
ERAs my comfort and familiarity with my airplane has increased, so has the mental bandwidth that I can share with the camera, and that's come into play primarily with composition. When I started shooting out of the plane, so much of my energy was needed to fly the airplane, that there was no way to think about framing, use cases, and multiple compositions on a scene. Quickly retrimming, changing power, going into a slip, shooting, then getting back to cruise was a workout. Over time, as the airplane has come to feel more like a set of wings being strapped on, I'm much more comfortable manipulating my location in space with the airplane to get a shot I have in mind.
Flying low and slow over the coast - just about to let my buddy know that he'll be seeing me in his skylight.
Shooting multiple compositions of every scene is programmed into my camera handling from ad work. There's nothing worse than doing all the hard work to set up a scene— whether that's lighting and styling on the ground, or waiting for the right weather and wind to get the plane into position— only to review shots later and realize that you needed a horizontal instead of vertical, or a frame that included just a little more foreground, in order to use the shot.
Low and...fast, or fast for a Tri-Pacer. Having some fun on a long XC home from Oregon to SoCal. VIDEOWhenever somebody wants to license a shot, we want to make sure it's available for any use case their design team could imagine. That means I'll also often shoot a scene from multiple altitudes, with different lenses, through a plexi window and with the window open— each element changes the feel. There's the hero shot (as we call it at work) that we have in mind, and plan to use, but nature is only going to give us this exact combination once, so it's worth having additional backup shots and angles, just in case we need it down the line.
This shot was done a few different ways— through plexiglass to give it an ethereal feel, with a long lens, and with a tight lens - but we always knew the hero would be a wide shot showing how expansive the alluvial fans are in California.
BP What's your favorite piece of gear for that every photographer or photo enthusiast should have?
ERMagic micro fiber cloths and Domke camera wraps are two incredible pieces of kit that every pilot who enjoys taking the occasional picture can grab for a little bit of cash, to a huge benefit. I don't know what the elves sprinkle on the magic micro fibers in the factory, but after preflighting the airplane I always manage to have some grub on my hands, which transfers to the cameras and/or lenses by the end of a flight. The magic micro fiber removes everything, in a way that other micro fibers fall short.
Domke camera wraps let me ditch the bulky camera bag, and put my cameras into a flight bag or backpack since space is at a premium in the airplane. Cameras are tougher than most people realize. Pelican cases are incredible, and all our pro gear lives in them, but anything short of a Pelican is unlikely to protect a camera from a real drop. Most damage comes from scratches— to the camera body, or even worse, to a lens— and Domke wraps protect against that more than adequately.
BP What's your go-to body/lens/filter configuration for cockpit and/or for ground-based shooting? How do you edit your images?
ERWhen weight and space aren't an issue, the Phase One IQ350 with 80mm Blue Ring lens is a big, heavy, rig that shoots one frame per second, and has a single auto focus point at a time when most cameras can responsively track a human face and maintain focus. But Phase One left out those extra features because they're focused on one thing— the best image quality. The results are worth the effort involved in bringing the big camera along for the ride. The first time I shot the Schneider-Kreuznach lenses that Phase One created for their cameras, it felt like I was holding a cinema lens (those lenses are often more expensive than a Cessna 152), and I was hooked on the quality of contrast and sharpness that these beasts provide, even when shooting into direct sunlight.
For quick hops, or times when we are further off grid, the digital Leica MP with 35mm Summicron is my favorite tool. My Leica lenses and PA-22 were created right around the same time (1956), and I love the match— both are simple, effective machines that have stood the test of time. The Leica's cloth shutter is nearly silent so it doesn't disturb the campfire vibes after landing, and the battery life is incredible. I'll run the camera for a full week in the backcountry without needing to change batteries.
Shot with the Leica over dense forest, the Phase One can be a handful when mountain flying, so the smaller, lighter camera is a perfect choice.
I love shooting from the air with a 35 or 50mm lens— the scenes are dramatic, but the amazing thing about flying is that these views are totally normal. We've all seen them a hundred times over, it's why we fly. Perhaps super wide, or telephoto, shots will be interesting to me in a while - for now, shooting something so sublime and having it feel regular is the most exciting way to approach shots from above.
Capture One is a must for post-processing— after years of using Lightroom, I was happy with the software and knew it well - but the Phase One camera system was designed to work with Capture, so I transitioned when I switched from Nikon a few years ago. It was an eye opening experience. Lightroom was throwing away vast amounts of data that Capture lets me include in images, and I've reedited much of my archive with Capture One, finding new things in photos that had been in my portfolio for years.
Phase One + Capture one help bring a simple scene to life— the dynamic range in the snowcapped mountains is immense. Being able to get just the right amount of shadow/highlight definition makes what could be a blown out mess into something interesting again.
At the end of the day, the cameras I get to shoot with are luxuries, and many mirrorless or basic SLRs would work well with a high quality lens. Saying that without a Phase One I wouldn't be able to enjoy aerial shooting is like saying camping at Johnson Creek wouldn't be fun unless you landed there in Draco— the important part is just getting out there and doing it, the big toys do a great job, but so does a $400 Canon SLR, a little Cessna 120, Sony's new mirrorless cameras, or a Rans S7. The important part is loving the tool you use. It's painful to fly a poorly rigged aircraft, and it's just as miserable to shoot with a camera that doesn't fit your hands well, or weighs too much, or has a color profile that just doesn't jive with your style. Similar to finding the right airplane, you can read reviews about cameras, but megapixels and vibration reduction stats fall by the wayside when you hold the tool in your hands - it's worth finding something that fits you, otherwise it's going to sit on the shelf.
BP Are any of your photos for sale to the public? What if I wanted a poster of one of your shots for my hangar? How would I go about getting that?
ERHeck yeah. If anybody from BCP wants a print for their hangar, we'd be excited to share. Use the code “BCP” at prints.evanrobinson.com to see work available for the hangar and get 25% off any prints ordered before July 4th. Everything is printed on archival grade paper by a pro lab, so it's a little more expensive than a typical hangar poster, but we think it makes a big difference. I put the prints mounted on 2mm styrene in our hangar. The backing makes them easier to put up and keeps them looking flat and beautiful. We save the framed shots for our house - but hey, we're in the T hangars, a nicer climate controlled hangar probably deserves a framed print.
If you'd like to download a free desktop wallpaper from the site, use code "BCPBackground" which is valid until June 1, 2019.
The mountains just north of LA look great at sunset and that's usually the light we see them in, racing home to clear the rugged terrain before nightfall. A happy coincidence that it makes for better photos too.
