Opening the Door to Capture "Tahoe’s Reflection"
There’s a distinct moment when you reach for the handle, knowing that on the other side of this thin metal door is nothing but fast-moving air. Your brain fights it at first—every instinct screams that airplane doors are meant to stay shut, especially thousands of feet above the ground. Before takeoff, I was briefed that once the latch is released, the wind would catch the door, wanting to slam it up against the wing—a situation that could cause serious damage to the wing...and we all know what that means. To avoid that, I had to turn the handle, push the door open slowly, and hold on tight, carefully raising it up to meet the wing. Unlike a standard aircraft door designed to remain sealed shut mid-flight this door had been modified for skydiving, allowing it to lock in the open position while flying. The last time I had skydived from a plane like this for my brothers 40th birthday in El Salvador, the door had already been removed before we left the ground, and we simply flew over the jungle without one. But this time was different.
Without a parachute on, the reality of it being open hit differently.
As the door swings open, the wind hits you in the face like a freight train. The sounds of the prop chopping the air are a quick wake up call and suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of everything—the seat belt straining across your lap, the edge of the fuselage inches from your legs, the fact that you’re not wearing a parachute this time. It’s different from skydiving; there’s no exit order or strategy, no moment where you jump and it transitions to complete bliss and fun. Instead, you’re holding position, resisting the force trying to rip you out while steadying your camera to shoot some images you've been dreaming of because if you don't, you could fall out.
Hanging out of the aircraft, you feel the full speed of the wind its cold, relentless, and almost heavy. Every movement has to be deliberate. Your fingers are tight on the camera, bracing against the air pressure, trying to keep the frame steady. Below, Lake Tahoe stretches out in perfect stillness, an unreal contrast to the chaos and sounds "inside" the plane.
One of the images from this flight, "Tahoe’s Reflection," remains one of my all-time favorites and an image I've had in my head for about a decade. It captures Marlette Lake frozen over, with Lake Tahoe in the background, a perspective that would be nearly impossible to replicate without a manned aircraft. Pair it with a pretty sunset and I consider it a home run for landscape photography.
Drone photography has made aerial perspectives more accessible than ever, but there are limitations outside of the camera itself. The FAA regulations for drones state that they must fly at or below 400 feet above ground level and remain within the visual line of sight of the operator. While waivers to go outside of these rules can sometimes be granted, they require detailed documentation and are not always guaranteed.
To legally capture the same shot of Tahoe’s Reflection with a drone, you'd have to hike 10 miles round trip, climbing 2,000 feet of elevation in winter with snow conditions, time the sunset perfectly, launch from a legal location, and then descend back down in the dark. That’s an enormous effort—one that highlights how sometimes, the right tool for the job isn’t a drone, but a plane.
While I do incorporate drone photography into my work, I believe in using the right tools for the right job. Sometimes that’s a drone. Sometimes it’s a helicopter or an airplane. And sometimes, it means opening a door at 10,000 feet and trusting that the seatbelt will hold.
The rush of the wind, the roar of the engine, the feeling of total exposure—it’s a completely different way to experience photography. Communicating with the pilot to time each move with the light, deciding when and where to go based on the shot I want, adds another layer of precision to the process. And in those moments—balancing fear, adrenaline, and creative focus—you capture something that no drone, no hiker, and no ground-based camera ever could.
