A few days ago I spent an enchanting morning with my 4x5 at Bingham Falls in Vermont, a short drive from my home. This place is extremely rugged; I probably should get professional help from a real climber.
Anyway, I had set my bag down, and was under the dark cloth when I heard a horrible sound. My bag had rolled down into the abyss. Worse, it was open. Film holders, light meter, etc., all went clattering down through the boulders.
My howl of anguish echoed off the walls of the ravine, but if nobody heard it, did I really make a sound or just imagine it?
But somebody up there likes me. My 120 Super Angulon stayed in the bag. And, amazingly, nothing went into the river. My spotmeter got a little more banged up, is all.
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