Please enjoy this video slide presentation made up of favorite images from four years and “four seasons” (courtesy of Vivaldi) of Isis product in action.

Riddle: What has beautiful women, hot springs and hot fashion, a remote mountain cabin, and 25 below zero temperatures?

If you guessed the winter shoot I produced for Isis last February in Bozeman Montana you’d be right.

Founded by women for women, Isis makes products so well designed they even make we males a bit jealous. You can check out their line at: http://www.isisforwomen.com

I’ve been a fan of Isis since their inception and started shooting photography for the company four years ago, on locations ranging from the Uinta Mountains to the White Rim Trail, from the Colorado River to north of the Himalaya in the kingdom of Mustang.  It’s been a great journey and a pleasure watching the company evolve into the beautiful and technically sophisticated line it is today.

As photographers and their clients know, going on location is always a bit of a crap shoot—a heady mix of planning, hope, and just plain dumb luck.  It’s the luck part that keeps one up at night, especially since no matter how careful the planning…shit does happen.  As the military puts it, “no plan survives contact with the enemy.”  And they ought to know.

In this case, things started going a bit sideways the night before the production when I checked the weather and discovered Bozeman was forecasted to be the coldest place in the nation the next few days!

Twenty five below zero is cold.  That’s the kind of temperature when machines, fingers, and brains stop working the way they’re supposed to, and the second night of the project we were scheduled to spend the night in a backcountry cabin.  I’ve spent a large proportion of my career shooting in cold places including McKinley and Everest, so I knew that with the right gear winter camping can be fun—but for some reason the rest of the crew didn’t share my enthusiasm. It seems no one else had spent a night out in conditions so far south of freezing.  So I crossed my fingers (behind my back) and assured everyone there was a wood stove in the cabin, and that once we had that sucker cranking, it would be warm as Bikram Yoga.

To make sure I could keep the camera’s functioning properly, I snuck off and bought REI’s entire supply of chemical heating packs.  It might be freakin’ freezin’ outside, but it was going to be warm and toasty inside my Lowepro camera pack.

The next day, by the time we prepped the clothes, purchased supplies, loaded all the gear onto sleds, and skied several miles into the cabin— the afternoon was already waning.  It was fast approaching “magic hour,” that time of day when the light makes everything enchanted. This is a photographer’s worst nightmare, to watch the best light of the day evaporate before you can get the models dressed, smiling, and in focus.  So the second we reached the cabin I told the crew I would begin shooting while everyone else moved the gear inside, got the next change-of-clothes prepped, and a fire blazing.

Turns out, there was only one big fat shiny problem with that plan.  A thick combination lock was gleaming in the afternoon light illuminating the cabin door. In all the communication between Isis and the Forest Service, authorizing our use of the cabin, no one had mentioned the cabin would be locked, let alone provided a combination!

At times like this there is always a long moment of stunned silence. First time stands still, then it begins running at triple speed.

When time resumed, I sprinted around the cabin looking for another way in.  Nada. Unless we were willing to break a window there was no way to force an entry.  Already deep in the mountains, our cell phones didn’t have a signal, and besides the Forest Service office would close at any minute.  I knew I wasn’t going to convince anyone to spend a 25 below zero night outside without fire or shelter.  In my mind the only way to salvage the situation, was to shoot as much as possible around the cabin while the light remained, then high tail it back to town, find a six pack and a cheap motel, and start working on Plan B, whatever that might be.

That’s when Kate Harvey, one of my favorite Isis models said, “You know, my family has a cabin at Alta with a lock like this, and we get tired of always having to remember the combination, so we just leave the dial one number off.”

Then she grabbed the lock and turned it one click…

Nothing.  Of course I thought, what are the chances…?

Then she turned it again… and with satisfying “thuuunk” the lock fell open.

Hallelujah! Saved by an angel!

Fortunately, opening the lock was the last of the “speed bumps” on that particular project.  After that it was smooth sailing. It even got incrementally warmer over the next few days, or perhaps we just got used to being cold.

As I’ve told several professional photography audiences since then, “it takes a village folks.” In this business you’re only as good as your team.  No matter how brilliant and creative you may be, you can’t think of everything, and everyone you work with is an invaluable source of fresh perspectives and inspiring ideas— if you’re willing to listen.

The alchemical challenges of transforming “real life” into memorable imagery are many and varied, and the wise photographer realizes that he or she is just part of a grand, infinitely mysterious, and ultimately uncontrollable, process.  The only thing you can do to hedge your bets is surround yourself with the best and brightest people possible, listen to what they have to say, and then make sure you’re ready to capture the magic when it appears!

Good luck out there!