I spotted the Polaroid in a showcase at an ARC thrift store on Alameda Avenue in West Denver at the same time Kate found the Kodak Tourist II in the same shop. It was a two-camera day, that. Don’t have too many of those.

The salvageable shots from my first two packs of Fujifilm FP-100C color film are peppered throughout this post; more on why there aren’t 20 of them below.

My first ever Polaroid Automatic Land Camera image — a middle-of-the-night test shot of the lamp in our living room. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Before I could even try to take a photo with the 350, I had to do a little retrofitting. Unlike mechanical camera repair, which I’m still a novice at, this required electrical work, which I’m pretty good at.

To start with, I followed these battery reconfiguration instructions I found on Instructables.com. I used a 2-AAA battery holder for the shutter and light meter because the 350 is only a 3-volt system. I simply disconnected the power to the timer on the camera back, since I can easily use the timer on my iPhone instead.

I removed the original battery holder assembly, nipped out a little plastic that was in my way, soldered in the new battery holder, and repurposed the original battery holder screws to hold the new one in at a slight angle so the latch for the battery door was free to move.

A second test shot, in which I was trying to get an idea of the low-light capabilities of the Polaroid Automatic Land Camera 350 and the Fuji FP300C film, shows the puppy dog Batta. (Daniel J. Schneider)

With the batteries retrofitted successfully, I thoroughly cleaned the rollers and the areas around them, all of which was heavily encrusted with reddish developer goo. Aside from the goo, though, I never would’ve known this camera had been used.

After verifying the shutter worked without film, I opened my first film pack and loaded the camera.

That’s when I ran into trouble. I couldn’t remove even the dark slide on the film pack. It was so stuck I just tore the tab off trying to pull it out.

I opened the camera back and worked it out gently a little further in near total darkness. I closed the back and tried again.

Same result.

Google to the rescue.

Several discussion threads on Flickr and Photo.net indicated that the spring inside the film door, designed to hold sturdy metal Polaroid film cartridges securely against the film plane inside the camera, were likely crushing the more delicate Fuji film pack and causing the tightness woes.

Too bad I didn’t figure that out until half the pack was destroyed. Helpful hint: once you’ve pulled out 5 or 6 sheets, the film pack is empty enough that it works just fine.

To get a better idea of outdoor, bright-light exposure, I took this picture in a parking lot in the western Denver metro area. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I pulled the camera open and wrapped the film pack in a dark bag, said to hell with it, and broke off the ends of the brittle spring per the most common solutions I found online.

Violà!

The Denver City and County Building from atop the Denver Post building in downtown Denver. I realized just how much I need to move the L/D dial to “Lighten” after this shot. (Daniel J. Schneider)

In the course of finishing that film pack, reloading, and finishing the second film pack, I managed to ruin a couple shots due to ineptitude, inexperience and inattention. Those that made it are presented here.

The colonnade at the north end of Denver’s Civic Center in my first test of a very high contrast shot. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The camera itself is big. It’s heavy. It weighs almost as much as my 4×5 Speed Graphic. It’s comfortable to hold, though, with a meaty grip molded into the left side that you can use to heft its weight while your right hand worries about adjusting and making each exposure.

The meaty grip is also handy to keep a firm grasp on the camera as you pull the film out (firmly and steadily, not too fast, but not too slow).

The camera opens up and the lens and bellows are extended after unlocking by lifting up the focusing knob by your right hand. They lock in place when they’re extended fully. On each side there’s a focusing knob attached to a bar across the back of the bellows. By sliding them together to the left or right, focus is achieved.

This was my first test of the Cold Clip, a photo of Denver’s Civic Center, the Denver Public Library and the Denver Art Museum. (Daniel J. Schneider)

On the Model 350, the rangefinder is fully coupled and made by Zeiss. Lower models (x00, x20, x40 numbers) have different rangefinder systems that sound a little more difficult to use.

The yellowish “bright spot” in my 350′s rangefinder is a little dimmer than I’m used to on my Olympus 35SP and my Konica Auto S2, but it’s visible enough. It may also be slightly out of alignment — I can get vertical lines to line up crisply, but horizontal lines don’t ever seem to line up quite right. Very close, but not perfect. It makes focusing accurately a little more challenging, but it’s not impossible.

Exposure is a little more difficult. The camera is designed for film with speed of ASA75, ASA150 or ASA3000. The only currently available pack films from Fujifilm are ASA100, so you’re stuck with either under- or over-exposure. You’ll have to experiment to find the sweet spot on the L/D knob (lighten/darken) to get your exposures working. I’m still learning my 350′s sweet spot.

I took this photo of the Colorado State Capitol from the roof of the Denver Post building in downtown Denver, then took the camera inside and waited about 20 minutes before pulling the image out to start development. (Daniel J. Schneider)

One of the most interesting things about this camera is the interest other people show. I walk around with a variety of unique and antique cameras on a regular basis, but combining a big bellows with an even bigger camera means this one gets a lot of attention. A gas station attendant even offered me $50 for it (I told him I’d sell it to him with the film in it for $200 and he was still hemming and hawing when I left).

Just be ready for lots of comments if you walk around with one of these.

I took this shot of the Colorado State Capitol after the last, and used the Cold Clip included with the camera to let it develop for about 2:30 min. under my jacket in my armpit. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Technical details: I used instant film and it did its thing. I scanned them with my Epson V600 and Photoshopped out the most offensive dust, and that’s it.

A head-on view of the Konica Auto S2 rangefinder camera. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The Konica Auto S2 is a large and slightly fiddly 35mm rangefinder camera with a nice feature set and a really stellar lens. I love it!

In a thorough guest review for Japan Camera Hunter that I found while Googling “Konica Auto S2,” Soren Rosenberg complains about weight, focus creep and a wobbly lens. Like me, Rosenberg lists the super-sharp 45mm f/1.8 Hexanon lens as a big pro.

I’d agree with him that it’s not the lightest rangefinder, but while it is heavier (and larger) than my Konica EE-Matic, it’s still lighter than my Olympus 35SP despite being a bit larger. It’s considerably lighter than most of my SLRs with anything but a pancake lens. It’s a comfortable weight for carrying, and it balances nicely on either the body-mounted strap hooks or the strap mounts on the leather case.

On my S2, the lens is built quite solidly and while it moves fluidly and easily when I focus, it has little to no focus creep when walking around. I don’t usually walk around with my camera in my hand, though. I prefer to show off my collection of colorful vintage camera straps from thrift stores.

Speaking of thrift stores, that’s where the Auto S2 came from. I found it, with the original leather case in great condition and a lovely vintage strap, for $7.99 at a Goodwill in the northwest Denver metro area. I didn’t care that it didn’t seem to work.

As a result, it became my first real experience in camera repair. Following some advice I found online, I disassembled to front half of the lens and used tiny drops of lighter fluid to dissolve and/or re-liquify the lubrication on the leaves of the Copal shutter. I put one tiny drop on each of the five leaves (just enough to see a very thin coating throughout) a couple times a day for about a week, letting them soak in until all the gummed up leaves were free.

A side-angle view of the Konica Auto S2 rangefinder camera. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Once the blades were nominally free, it was simply a matter of actuating the shutter a few thousand times while watching movies and TV shows in the evenings. After a couple days, it was functioning smoothly and perfectly. Everything else worked just fine except the light meter.

The light meter was designed to use a PX625 mercury battery at 1.3 volts. I tried replacing it with a Wein air cell replacement battery, but no soap. Without that, the automatic mode doesn’t seem to work, either. That’s okay, though — shooting black and white with sunny-16 rules has yielded pretty good results.

Some more tech specs: The shutter has setting from bulb to 1/500th sec., the film speed setting go from 25 to 400 ASA, maximum aperture is f/1.8, it has a cold shoe and PC sync socket, a self timer, and infrared correction marks included with the depth of field scale. The rangefinder is super bright and includes handy parallax-correction lines.

The camera is a little fiddly — everything is on the lens which means looking away from the finder to adjust knobs and rings depending what you’re adjusting. It’s not hard, though, and really, I make up my mind on my settings before bringing the camera to my eye since I’m shooting sunny-16.

Since I got it working I’ve shot 5 or 6 rolls of film with the Konica Auto S2, and very few shots have been duds. The lens is really unbelievably sharp, all the way to the edge of the frame. I haven’t tried it for portraiture specifically, but I imagine this lens would take a really fantastic portrait. Here’s a dozen or so examples from my test rolls.

An unnamed street musician plays classic Country and Western tunes for tips on the 16th Street Mall in Denver. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Looking north toward Colfax Avenue from near 14th Avenue along the sidewalk bordering the East Lawn of the Colorado State Capitol in Denver. (Daniel J. Schneider)

A lamp in the Japanese Garden in Sakura Square at 19th and Larimer Streets in Denver. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The Denver Art Museum’s North Building distinctive tower shape has 24 sides, and the shiny tiles were designed by Dow Corning. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The towering north entrance to the Colorado State Capitol building, facing 14th Avenue, in Denver. (Daniel J. Schneider)

One of the two towers of St. John’s Episcopal Cathedral on 14th Avenue in Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. (Daniel J. Schneider)

To bridge the gap while waiting for to complete his disability application process, Mark Rhoads, who has lost nearly all his eyesight, plays guitar for tips on the 16th Street Mall in Denver. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The North Building of the Denver Art Museum, designed by Italian architect Gio Ponti, opened in 1971. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Mochi ice cream in a display case at Denver’s well-known Asian market, Pacific Mercantile Company, in Sakura Square at 19th and Lawrence Streets. (Daniel J. Schneider)

This statue, entitled “Closing Era,” depicts a Native American standing over a dying buffalo on a plinth in the East Lawn of the Colorado State Capitol in Denver. (Daniel J. Schneider)

A view of the pathway through the East Lawn of the Colorado State Capitol building in Denver. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Car guys gather to show off their shiny creations, such as this shiny, red 1965 Ford Galaxie 500, on Colfax Avenue during the annual Cinco De Mayo celebration in Denver. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Thinking back to Soren Rosenberg’s review, with so much to like about the Auto S2, perhaps he marked weight down as a con just to keep that column from feeling empty. Weight notwithstanding, if you want for a great rangefinder for street photography and general walking around, I highly recommend the razor-sharp Konica Auto S2.

Most of the photos above were taken with Kodak Tri-X 400 and developed in HC-110E (1+47) for 8 minutes. The two from Sakura Square were taken with Efke KB100, developed in HC-110E (1+47) for 7:30 min. All were scanned on my Epson V600, and as always, the only Photoshopping was dust removal and slight exposure corrections (never more than a stop or two).

Moments after sunset, shadows descend on the Colorado National Monument as stark white clouds blow slowly eastward. (Daniel J .Schneider)

Kate and I started out from Denver in April of 2012 and drove to the Colorado National Monument. Ultimately we covered much of the American Southwest.

Colorado National Monument wasn’t one of our planned destinations, but we decided to take a turn through the park since we still had some light on our first evening, before bedding down for the night at the El Palomino Motel in Grand Junction, which, while not fancy, was a perfectly fine stop for the night and very reasonably priced (I’m not being paid to say this!).

Trees and shrubs awakening from winter in the Colorado National Monument are silhouetted against late evening clouds, just after sunset. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The light was fading rapidly by the time we made it into the park far enough to see anything, but the clouds were beautiful and the deep shadows made the formations seem all the larger. It had rained a little earlier in the afternoon, and the sparkling puddles and darkened sand were soft and full of rich, early smells.

Puddles formed by afternoon rain reflect dusky skies after sunset in the Colorado National Monument. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I had been to Colorado National Monument before, but I was young and didn’t remember it all that well. As with nearly everything I’ve seen in the American Southwest, it’s beautiful and geologically fascinating.

Independence Monument in Monument Canyon is darkened as sunset turns to late evening and clouds blow over Colorado National Monument. (Daniel J. Schneider)

After a classic American greasy spoon diner breakfast, we headed west from Grand Junction and into Utah. You can see the Rabbit Valley Interchange, an award winning steel highway bridge we passed near the state line, with my other medium format photos from the trip.

Looking through the door of an abandoned house in the relatively young ghost town of Cisco, Utah, a former water stop for the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Just over the border we looked through the abandoned railroad town of Cisco, Utah. A couple dozen collapsed and collapsing houses remain, and dozens of foundations and pits that probably once were foundations. After exploring a little, while heading out of town, we saw one property that appeared to be occupied still after all. I don’t know how long this young ghost town will stay abandoned.

A hawk’s freshly-finished kill on the window sill of an abandoned house in the ghost town of Cisco, Utah. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Evidence of resident wildlife is nothing new in a ghost town, but seeing a the freshly killed and picked-clean bones of a rat or ground squirrel on the sill of one abandoned window was a gruesome reminder of the brutal realities of life in the Southwest. Not a good place to be a member of the Order Rodentia.

Wilson Arch, probably the most accessible natural arch in the U.S., is right next to the highway south of Moab, Utah. (Daniel J. Schneider)

After an afternoon crawling over the Kokopelli Trail in the Jeep, and an evening of Mexican food and a warm motel bed in Moab, we headed further south into Utah. We stopped at the infamous Hole N” the Rock tourist trap, we discovered the ultra-accessible Wilson Arch. It’s visible from state highway 191 on the way to Monticello. In fact, it’s so accessible, there’s a housing development of some kind just below the back side of it obscuring any natural beauty that could be seen through it at one time…

West at the junction of 191 and highway 95 and shortly we found the Butler Wash Ruins where a short hike reveals several ancient Puebloan ruins in a small canyon. As we hiked the half-mile or so back from the observation point, the skies rapidly darkened and large pellets of snow began to fall. By the time we got back to the Jeep, the snow was sticking to everything and the wind was blowing a steady 10- or 15-mph.

Steam rises from the asphalt on Utah highway 261 south of the junction with highway 95 after a sudden blizzard dropped about 1-inch of snow in an hour early in the afternoon of an otherwise beautiful day. (Daniel J. Schneider)

We headed west toward highway 261 in search of views and on the way to our anticipated stop for the night at Mexican Hat, on the border of the Navajo Nation. The snow came down so hard and fast it was nearly impossible to see the road and I was stuck at about 20 mph for half an hour or so. When about an inch had fallen, the snow stopped as suddenly as it had started and the sun came out, melting the snow on the roads almost as fast as it fell. It nearly skipped the liquid state and turned into billowing steam.

Steam rises from the asphalt on Utah highway 261 south of the junction with highway 95 after a sudden blizzard dropped about 1-inch of snow in an hour early in the afternoon of an otherwise beautiful day. (Daniel J. Schneider)

We stopped at the Kane Gulch Ranger Station a few miles south of highway 95 for a couple 4×5 shots, but that didn’t preclude a few 35mm shots, including one looking out on the freshly-fallen snow.

A view of the Great American Desert after a sudden midday snowstorm in April of 2012, seen from the Kane Gulch Ranger Station on Utah highway 261. (Daniel J. Schneider)

After a look at our watches, we realized we had plenty of time to take a turn through Natural Bridges National Monument before finishing the drive to Mexican Hat, and the Monument was only about 20 miles away. We turned around and stopped by the visitors’ center just moments after it closed, but with enough light left to make a few pictures.

About an hour after a sudden midday storm left nearly an inch of snow on southeastern Utah, even patchy sun has already melted much of the snow in glistening puddles on the sandstone of Natural Bridges National Monument. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Here, too, the quickly-fallen and quickly-melted snow sparkled in puddles in the sandstone formations here near Kachina Bridge, the youngest of the massive natural bridges in the monument. Considered a very young bridge, it formed when a stream broke through the walls between White Canyon and Armstrong Canyon. The Cedar Mesa Sandstone is the major geologic formation the bridges are composed of.

Just before sunset, the last rays of sun illuminate Owachomo bridge at the southern end of Natural Bridges National Monument in Utah. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Further south in the Monument, we made it to Owachomo Bridge in time to stick around for sunset. The last rays of light illuminated the large sandstone outcropping at the northeast end of the bridge, the “rock mound” it is named for.

A dead piñon pine silhouetted as the sun set behind a mesa near Owachomo Bridge at the south end of Natural Bridges National Monument in southeastern Utah. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Throughout southeastern Utah, the desert is covered with sparse flora, including the occasional ancient piñon pines. They produce their delicious seeds, the pine nuts you’re used to paying $30 or more for a pound of, only when conditions are right for the cones to mature. Did you know you can harvest pine nutes on BLM lands as long as you gather less than 25 lbs.?

The sun sets behind a mesa near Owachomo Bridge in Natural Bridges National Monument. (Daniel J. Schneider)

A large mesa outside the Monument serves as the backdrop to both Owachoma Bridge and Kachina Bridge, and we stayed near the former to see the sun set as the storm clouds that brought the earlier snow continued their retreat eastward. Fun fact: All three of the bridges in Natural Bridges Monument are among the ten largest natural bridges in the world.

We drove down the Moki Dugway, one of the scariest roads in the U.S., at night (even scarier!) to leave Cedar Mesa and land on the desert below. We rolled into Mexican Hat around 9 p.m. to find a raucus party at the only motel with a vacancy. We just didn’t feel comfortable with the obviously drunk crowd, so…

We filled up the Jeep and took a late-night side trip to Bluff, where we got the last room in town — a $150/night suite at the Desert Rose Inn and Cabins, which I talked them into giving us for $90 since it was nearly midnight. Bluff isn’t in the center of the beauty quite the way towns like Moab and Blanding are, but the room was great and the building was lovely. It was a well-spent night.

The Twin Rocks Trading Post and Cafe in Bluff, Utah, sit below the Navajo Twin Rocks monument and offer Navajo arts and crafts, inexpensive expired Fuji film, and delicious Navajo fry bread breakfasts. (Daniel J. Schneider)

In the morning we had a breakfast of Navajo fry bread and honey with eggs and whatnot at the Twin Rocks Trading Post and Cafe, which I remembered vaguely from a childhood trip to the area and still heartily approve of. We also reloaded Kate’s camera bag; I’d packed five 24-exposure rolls of expired Fujicolor 200 film for her to shoot with Dad’s old Pentax ME-Super, and she went through them fast. Not to mention that I was cruising through the Provia at about 2 rolls a day. They had a nice stash of expired Fuji Superia 200 at much-less-than-B&H prices, so I stocked us up.

We headed out then to the Navajo Nation, where we stopped briefly at Monument Valley on our way to Canyon de Chelly.

Interestingly, though Canyon de Chelly is a National Monument, it’s operated in conjunction with the Navajo Nation, who require that a trained Navajo guide accompany anyone who wishes to go in the canyon because the canyon is still occupied by the Navajo and full of an amazing number of ruins and spiritual sites. Driving around the rim requires no guide and is managed by the Parks Service.

We hired a guide named Eleanor with Ancient Canyon Tours, who I’d heartily recommend. In the best ways, she reminded me of Marilyn Whirlwind from Northern Exposure.

I’ll leave you with a frame that doesn’t include the mitten formations so well-known and visible from the visitors’ center. By the time we made it to Canyon de Chelly, I was out of Provia and shooting the expired Superia, which I may get around to posting … someday.

A view of a large mesa formation on the northwestern edge of Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park in the Navajo Nation adjacent to southeastern Utah. (Daniel J. Schneider)

All these frames were made with my Minolta XE-7, using either my Minolta FD 24mm f/2.8 lens or my Minolta MC 58mm f/1.4 lens, with Fujichrome Provia 100F, developed by Englewood Camera and then scanned at home. I used Photoshop’s Content Aware Healing Brush tool for some dust specks, and adjusted the exposure of some shots a little. As it got darker in the evenings, the shutter priority mode of the XE-7 seemed to compensate a bit too little.

You can really see the flaring from the uncoated glass of the ancient 58mm on a couple of the shots above, but it’s a nice clean effect as far as lens flare goes.

Travis Reed of High Country Carvings demonstrates how he turns a raw log into a complete carving in about 30 minutes using several different chainsaws at the National Western Stock Show and Rodeo in Denver, Sunday, Jan. 20, 2013. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I visited the 107th annual National Western Stock Show and Rodeo in Denver again this year, and finally saw Travis Reed’s chainsaw carving demonstration. It was worth the 10-year wait. In about 30 minutes, the award-winning chainsaw carver turned a log about 4-feet tall and 18-inches in diameter into a nearly complete statue, all the while filling the air with wood chips, smoke and the smell of fresh cut pine. I won’t ruin the surprise; I’ll save telling you what he carved for the end.

Within just a few minutes, Reed has already begun to reveal the subject of the finished carving. Wood chips and the smell of pine fill the air at the National Western Stock Show and Rodeo in Denver, Sunday, Jan. 20, 2013. (Daniel J. Schneider)

High Country Carvings‘ Reed, who studied wildlife management at Colorado State University, travels the country with his wife Maggie, giving chainsaw carving demonstrations and selling the finished pieces. According to his online bio, they live in Colorado’s San Luis Valley.

After the carving itself is mostly complete, Reed drives in what appear to be large steel shot balls as eyes. Chainsaw carving demonstration at the National Western Stock Show and Rodeo, Denver, Saturday, Jan 20, 2013. (Daniel J. Schneider)

While going to the Stock Show every year has revealed to me that there are few differences from year to year, that hasn’t stopped me from catching something different and interesting each year. 2013 was the first year that I left my digital camera at home, though. Everything I shot was on film. I took my Nikon FM2, Canon AE-1, and my Yashica D.

After driving in the eyes and spraying a little black lacquer in the deeper cuts, Reed puts some finishing touches on the carving with an angle grinder during his chainsaw carving demonstration at the National Western Stock Show and Rodeo in Denver on Sunday, Jan. 20, 2013. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I found an unexpected roll of Fujichrome Provia 100F and decided I’d use it for this demonstration. I got 35 frames out of the roll, of which I think about 18 or 20 are usable, which is a small victory for me. I’ve been feeling like taking my time and shooting with film has had an impact on my photography insofar as helping me put more care into my composition and more consideration into each frame I make, but I felt like I wasn’t keeping up with the technical aspects I’ve spent so much time trying to practice. The result has been that I’ve felt like only a few frames from each roll were up to par. But this roll makes me feel like I’m balancing the two a bit better.

So if you’re still wondering what the carving was in the end, it was a bear. Not holding a sign like we see so often, though — it was a bear in a privy.

The final touch for this piece? Reed uses a propane torch to add a little color to the statue of a bear in a privy that he made during a chainsaw carving demonstration at the National Western Stockshow and Rodeo in Denver on Sunday, Jan. 20, 2013. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I used the Nikon FM2 with a Nikkor Ai 105mm-f/2.5 lens for all these frames. Most were shot at f/4. I had the film developed at Englewood Camera and scanned it myself. I used Photoshop’s Content Aware Healing Brush for a few dust spots on the scans, but that’s it.

A front view of the brown bakelite Imperial Debonair, a stunning example of Streamline Moderne industrial design. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The Imperial Debonair, another bakelite box camera made by Chicago’s Herbert George Co., is stunningly designed. Reminiscent of the Imperial Herco, it’s a simple camera that uses 620 film and has a fixed-focus lens and single-speed shutter.

I’d guess that mechanically, the Debonair about the same as the Herco. The shutter speed, based on the exposures I made with my test roll, is probably also around 1/30 sec.

The lens is similar in characteristics to the Herco, varies slightly. Similarly, it’s sharp in the center and shows heavy vignetting. The focused area in the center seems even sharper than on the Herco, but the fall-off into blur is more rapid and more out-of-focus, too. The viewfinder is much larger than the Herco, though, and much brighter.

What really wins you over with this camera is the beautiful Art Deco lines and asymmetric design.

A side view of the brown bakelite Imperial Debonair, another Herbert George box camera from about 1960. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The viewfinder is set off-center, perhaps to make it possible to attach the rubber wrist strap to the center. The camera balances nicely on the strap with this placement. Also asymmetric, the boss with the shutter button extends from the side of the box, giving you a meaty place to wrap your thumb around and snap frames.

The film advance knob is a little shallow but still pretty easy to operate, even with my fat fingers.

The best single feature, visually, is the beautiful chrome shade over the lens. It reminds me of a machine-age traffic light, and it’s a really great element to round out the Streamline Moderne design (one of my favorite schools of Art Deco).

The box is clipped closed with a sturdy metal clip on the bottom of the camera. While it sounds like they lose their tension over time, mine is still full of life and holds the camera closed quite nicely.

The Debonair was available in black, olive green, brown, and maroon (and maybe more), and served as the basis for an early official Cub Scout camera.

I found the Debonair at a small antique mall in southwestern Fort Collins, Colorado, and paid about $10 for it, which seems in line with what they are selling for on eBay or Craigslist. It’s dark brown with a light cream rubber wrist strap, in nearly new condition. Even the wrist strap still supple and sturdy. Aside from a few tiny spots of surface rust on the clip, the metal is all nearly perfect.

The west-side sidewalk on Pearl Street looking north toward 14th Avenue in Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I found the Imperial Debonair bakelite box toy camera in a small antique mall in Fort Collins, Colorado. As per usual, I put a roll of film (Ilford Delta 100 120 film rerolled onto a 620 spool) through it to test it out. It’s a nice step up from the Imperial Herco. I wrote a more complete review of the Imperial Debonair after testing it.

Just before testing the Debonair, though, I had shot 5 or 6 rolls of Fuji Provia in my Yashica D, which has a brilliant automatic mechanical film counter that stops advancing when a new frame is revealed. As a result, I rolled right past a couple frames on this test roll before remembering I needed to look at the little red window and only got 8 frames from the roll in the end.

An Xcel Energy electric substation entrance off of Pearl Street near 13th Avenue on a damp Denver day in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. (Daniel J. Schneider)

One of the two towers at the front of St. John’s Episcopal Cathedral on 14th Avenue in Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood, seen from the west side through trees. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Looking south from 14th Avenue down the alley between Pearl Street and Washington Street in Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood, (Daniel J. Schneider)

Fire escapes on a condominium building on 14th Avenue near Pearl Street in Denver’s Capitol Hill. (Daniel J. Schneider)

An apartment building off of Washington Street south of 13th Avenue in Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Looking south along Washington street rom 14th Avenue n Denver’s Capiitol Hill neighborhood. (Daniel J. Schneider)

A gate leading to a mysterious sideyard behind an aged duplex on Washington Street south of 14th Avenue in Denver’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I made these frames with Ilford Delta 100 film that I respooled from 120 spools onto a spare 620 spool. They were developed in Kodak HC-110E (1+47) for 9 minutes at 68°F. I typically agitate for the full first 30 seconds, and then for 5 seconds (or 4 inversions) every 30 seconds thereafter.

Near the shore of Horsetooth Reservoir outside Fort Collins, Colorado, onlookers take photos of the smoke from the High Park Fire as it obscures the sun late on Sunday, June 10, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

A lightning strike in Roosevelt National Forest started the High Park Fire in the mountains just west of Fort Collins, Colorado, early on the morning of Saturday, June 9, 2012. By Sunday, smoke filled nearly the entire sky over the city and the smoke plume was visible from Denver, and even from space.

On Sunday, June 9, I drove from Denver to LaPorte with several cameras to see first-hand the effect the fire was having on the residents of the area. I wasn’t able to return when more stories developed, but I was able to document the early stages of evacuations and firefighting efforts with my Nikon FM2. After developing the film, I didn’t get the negatives scanned for awhile, but I wanted to present them anyway.

Larimer County Sheriff Executive Officer Nicholas Christensen speaks to newspaper and television reporters at a press conference just off West Larimer County Road 52E outside LaPorte, near Fort Collins, Colorado, June 10, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Following a press conference outside LaPorte, near Fort Collins, Colorado, two firefighters watch as smoke fills the sky from the lightning-caused High Park Fire, June 10, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Seen from the shore of College Lake, southwest of Fort Collins, Colorado, smoke from the High Park Fire obscures the sun on Sunday, June 10, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Evacuees from the High Park Fire west of Fort Collins, Colorado, arrive at a Red Cross shelter set up in Cache La Poudre Junior High School, June 10, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

A mother and her baby evacuated from their home by the High Park Fire west of Fort Collins, Colorado, arrive at a Red Cross shelter set up in Cache La Poudre Junior High School, June 10, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Evacuees from the High Park Fire west of Fort Collins, Colorado, stake out cots at a Red Cross shelter set up in Cache La Poudre Junior High School, June 10, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Seen from a field south of Fort Collins, Colorado, smoke from the High Park Fire obscures the sun completely, June 10, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

All these photos were taken with my Nikon FM2 using either my Nikkor 20mm f/4.0 AI lens or my Nikkor 105mm f/2.5 AI-s lens. They were shot using Kodak Professional Tri-X 400TX film, developed in Kodak HC-110 developer mixed at 48:1 for 8 minutes at 69°F.

Another spectacular Denver sunset seen from the Denver Post building in downtown, Nov. 24, 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I’ve been using my iPhone 4 for more photography lately, and not sharing most of the results.

The sunset on November 24 was just amazing. Unbelievable, really. I took several photos of it several minutes apart. This may not even have been the best one. But I’m really pleased with the results.

I slightly cropped the top and bottom of the photo, but that’s it. Everything else is exactly as it came out of the phone.

Taken with an iPhone 4 using the ProCamera app.

Snoopy vs. the Red Baron. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I visited the Swetsville Zoo near Fort Collins and its iron animalia with Kate in July while we explored northeastern Colorado.

The Swetsville Zoo is well known among aficionados of America’s roadside culture. With help from the city of Timnath, the garden of junkyard prehistoria has weathered road expansion and other issues.

Ex-farmer Bill Swets started the Zoo for his welded creations in the 1980s, and lives there still along with his family, adding new creations regularly. Others of his massive metal models appear around the U.S. and the world, with several prominently displayed at another well-known roadside attraction, Hole N’ the Rock in Utah, just a bit south of Moab.

Swets’ creations are fabricated from scrap metal and junk auto parts. The Zoo features dinosaurs, bugs the size of cars or houses, lizards, birds, and even a prehistoric rock band. While most of the exhibits are marked “Do Not Touch,” there are several inventive interactive sculptures as well. There are even a few picnic tables by the river, so feel free to pack a lunch and eat in the shade of a scrap-steel golfer and his Tyranosaurus caddy.

The Zoo is open daily and usually free, and great for the whole family.

The biggest tricycle on earth. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Sadface. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Mama and baby. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The big bug scourge of the… (Daniel J. Schneider)

The dangers of space. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Parliament of rooks. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Taking a picture. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Dinosaur kit. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Mrs. Monster. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Poor little guy! (Daniel J. Schneider)

Oil pan monster head. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Rocket bike. (Daniel J. Schneider)

All photos taken with my iPhone 4 using Hipstamatic.

The last rays of the setting sun just before the crawl up the facade of the Colorado State Capitol in late autumn. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The 1980s saw the ultra-cheap Chinese-made “Color Optical Lens” cameras spread across the world. Today these cheap leftovers fetch as much as their original purchase price on eBay.com.

Offered in the U.S. as promotional giveaways, the most memorable examples are probably the TIME Magazine and Sports Illustrated subscription cameras. Dozens or hundreds of other promo versions exist. I’ve seen Bentley, TV Guide, LIFE Magazine and several others, not to mention the hundreds of hilariously pseudo-branded knockoffs like Sitacon, Meikai, Hodar and Impac.

The late autumn sun sets behind the Denver City and County Building. The lens flare is one of the popular undesirable characteristics of the Optical Color Lens cameras. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Midday sun on the Denver City and County Building with the Front Range and snow-capped Mount Evans visible behind. (Daniel J. Schneider)

The Color Optical Lens (a.k.a. Optical Color Lens, New Color Optical Lens, Glass Color Optical Lens, Lavec Color Optical Lens and many other similar monikers) is such a well known hidden gem of a piece of junk it has spawned multiple groups on Flickr including the famous “Optical Color Optical Lens” group.

Instead of an actual aperture, the lens (often reported to be glass) uses a teardrop-shaped slot for an aperture. As you open it up, the slot rotates toward the wider end in front of the tiny leaf shutter. Every one I’ve seen has four marked settings indicated by multicolored icons showing sunlight, partial sun, clouds, and night-time — not that I’d use this thing indoors or at night.

The Colorado State Capitol building and a lot of light leaks, before the work to restore the Capitol dome began in the spring of 2012. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Denver’s new Ralph L. Carr Justice Center, still under construction. (Daniel J. Schneider)

One of the oft-acclaimed results of this amazingly cheap optical setup is unbelievable amounts of lens flare. Add that to the Holga-esque light leaks present in even the most pristine examples, the blurred edges, and the ever-present and asymmetrical vignetting, and you’ve basically got a $5-10 35mm camera that you can pump film through for 1/3 of the price of a Holga or Diana, getting 36 shots per roll and buying expired drug store film at tourist traps around the country.

I found my first Color Optical Lens camera at a thrift store (big surprise, right?) for $0.99, and it even had a cheap plastic “lens cap” and “case.” I put those in quotation marks because they barely qualified as manufactured products, let alone the things they were intended to be. I loaded a roll of drug store-bought Kodak Gold 400 that expired in 1994 and managed 9 frames before the winder jammed and the camera became an inoperable lump of plastic forever.

Denver’s historic Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, or most of it. (Daniel J. Schneider)

Denver Capitol Hill fixture Tom’s Diner with light leaks and so on. (Daniel J. Schneider)

I attempted to wind the film in, figuring 9 was enough frames for testing purposes, and the plastic winding fork broke before I managed to get three turns of the knob. I had to “disassemble” (I wasn’t careful) the camera in my (formerly) light-proof bathroom to extract and rewind the film. Then the film sat on the desk for months before I remembered to take it to the photo lab at Englewood Camera with my other C-41 films sometime in mid-June. That’s why these are coming now.

Needless to say, I tossed the plastic remains of the off-brand camera and sought out a better one. I bought a $9 TIME Magazine subscription camera from the Bay of E, which I may one day use and post photos from/of.

Early morning sun over an Xcel Energy substation in Capitol Hill, seen through a tree. (Daniel J. Schneider)

As you can see, the vignetting is asymmetrical, the light leaks are horrendous, the focus is blurred at the corners and the lens flare is bigger than Ronnie Spector’s hair in 1963.