520 -Bay Bridge
Running Out of Gas on the Freeway
I know you’re reading that title thinking “this dude runs out of gas more than my autistic 16 year old nephew…”
And you’d be right. In some areas, I’m known as the gas ghoul. The petroleum pinhead. The fuel fool. Whatever you want to call me, it’s well earned.
And well documented, for that matter. In this adventure here, I ran out of gas in the middle of bumfuck Texas. In this adventure here, I ran out of gas in Berkley, the same day my catalytic converter was stolen. In this adventure here, I ran out of gas in rural Tennessee, and had to hitchhike my way to victory. And several other times I didn’t even talk about it because I was too embarrassed.
Well, here I am again. On the side of the freeway. In Mill Valley, California. Waiting for some dumbass State Farm employee to bring me fuel so I could mutter some half-hearted excuse about how “I thought I’d make it just a little further.” Spoiler alert, I didn’t. I was completely oblivious.
On the positive side, it happened on the top of a hill. Actually, I’m not sure if that’s a positive at all. Wouldn’t it be the same if I ran out at the bottom of a hill? I’m just fishing here guys. Something good has to come from this madness.
A story? Maybe.
But nothing happened. I was driving back to town after delivering a Doordash, and suddenly my gas pedal stopped working. That’s how it goes, you know, if you run out of gas. The pedal just suddenly turns off.
You’d think it’d be more exciting. When I was a kid, I always envisioned the engine blowing up. Or some cool neon light on the dash. Or some genie coming out and granting you free windshield wipers.
As I waited, I thought about how I could turn this around. I wasn’t going to end my day like this.
A day-old text from my buddy popped into my head. It was a link to an article about the Bay Bridge. Apparently, its lights were turning off this weekend, forever.
If you’ve never been to the Bay Area, there’s about 20 bridges out here besides the Golden Gate Bridge. And they all have their own little “quirks.” Kinda like moody high school kids.
In the Bay Bridge’s case, it was 25,000 dancing LED lights that illuminated it in the night sky. It was pretty neat, I’m not going to lie. And I’d never gotten a chance to get a photo of it.
The pieces came together. This was a perfect pre-story for a Bay Bridge photo…
As the State Farm employee filled my tank with two gallons of high-end petroleum, I wished upon a shooting star.
“Star light, star bright, The first star I see tonight; I wish I may, I wish I might, May I never run out of gas again, Starting Tonight.”
My gas tank door slammed shut and I was on my way.
As my destination came into sight, a harsh wind blew across the car and a few raindrops began to sprinkle. I pulled into an empty street and parked the Prius. It was time for redemption.
By now, I was full on hyped. The night clouds were looking moody as anything, the Bay Bridge was looking brilliant in the distance, and I had the perfect spot to set up.
My angle was Rincon Park. It’s a perfect spot to shoot the bridge because you get a full side-angle view, plus these weird abandoned cement pillars in the water that make a great foreground.
And we all know the importance of a good foreground. I’ll spare you the details. Here’s the photo I got:
“Last Light”
Taken with Sony a7rIII + Tamron 17-28mm f/2.8
[ISO 320 ~ 19mm ~ f/11 ~ 30s]
(Want a Print? Get one here.)
Easy money. Took about 30 minutes to get that shot, as I experimented with a bunch of different pillar combinations. Did I want 7 pillars? Or 17? Or anything in between?
It was a tough decision, but I settled on 16. Mainly because the combustion of octane (gas) performs the following chemical reaction when in a car:
2 C8H18 + 25 O2 → 16 CO2 + 18 H2O
I took the number 16 out. Also I failed chemistry in high school.
That’s all I got guys. I’ll see you next time when I do a literal photoshoot inside Nordstrom. Don’t ask.
I’m on a mission to explore as much as humanely possible.
Want to see my progress? Check out the Adventure Map.
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