There’s something about film that naturally evokes a sense of nostalgia. Maybe it’s the grain or the colors that lean a little too warm or too cool, which remind me of a distant memory. But that doesn’t quite pinpoint the whole experience: Every frame shot on film carries a deeper reminder of its intentional composition. With only 36 shots in a roll, each one had better count.
What started on a post-pandemic whim became an annual tradition: a quick spring weekend getaway to the Point Reyes seashore. Despite only a 45-minute drive from San Francisco, it was the perfect escape. A leisurely hike to a secluded meadow atop a bluff overlooking a sandy beach, a roomy campground and clean pit toilets, a short beachside stroll to a coastal waterfall, and an opportunity to stargaze once night fell.
Each year, I brought a film camera to capture some moments. There’s a certain excitement to the delayed gratification of film out in the “wilderness.” The physical limits of what you can carry, along with the inability to view the result force an immersion in the moment. Yet each year, I would procrastinate on looking through the photos, taking for granted the memories of landscapes and company so easily accessible. But nine months since moving from San Francisco, I finally decided to dust off the years of accumulated photos in the metaphorical attic in the cloud.
A First for Everything
Nothing quite matches the magic of a first time experience. In the first year, I remember catching an initial glimpse of the campground meadow after hiking in from a scenically underwhelming fire trail. The meadow was filled with blooming wildflowers, yellow blots on the otherwise verdant hills. It was a rainy spring, pouring for 20 minutes on the drive over, and there was a fleeting worry that our weekend would be filled with rain. It briefly drizzled as we were setting up camp but otherwise remained sunny and clear.
A Subconscious Gravitation
The colors felt different the second year, or perhaps my memories are too easily swayed by the warm tone of the pictures I took. Gone were the yellow flowers, replaced by lavender, pink, and white blooms. Somehow I found myself taking almost the same photos, despite the prior year’s film still sitting undeveloped in the fridge—perhaps a subconscious gravitation from deep within.
As far as overnight backpacking trips go, this one had an unbeatable ratio of effort to reward. A short hike paired with a one-night stay meant a virtually unlimited budget for backpack weight. This translated to gourmet dining in the backcountry. Unfortunately, the forces that drew me to the same landscapes never pushed me to capture these meals.
As Dynamic as the Coast
The northern California coast is dynamic, sometimes marked by foggy mornings with the exhalation of flora. This next year as we hiked in, the fog eerily shrouded the coast, a feeble attempt to keep secret our destination as we marched onwards. When we reached the campsite, we spotted a herd of elk grazing in the distance, occasionally raising their heads in cautious curiosity. A quick walk on the beach later, the fog parted, revealing sunny skies. Back at the campsite, the elk were nowhere to be found, perhaps carried away by the fog—without a trace.
Every year, the trip would be supported by a rotating cast of friends, family, coworkers, and acquaintances, some first-time backpackers and others well-seasoned. Some lifetime Bay Area residents, some transplants, some distant relatives, and others, friends who had moved away but were unable to stay away. I wonder how much the differences in recollection remain influenced by the changing crowds.
Familiar yet Different
With each coming year, I find that the scenes blend together. Yet as the days pass and the memories of the prior trip fade away, and as the anticipation for the next year’s grows, I find myself forgetting what makes this annual trip so special. It feels almost practiced, a muscle memory developed through the years.
But once in the midst of it, these feelings dissipate. I feel the tug of subconscious gravitation, the dynamic coast and the dynamic cast once again subvert my expectations, and it feels familiar yet different.