Fog, Focus, and the Feeling of Finally Getting It Right in Old Forge

There’s something about waking up at 4:00 a.m. that makes you question how committed you really are to your craft. Spoiler: I am very committed — or possibly unhinged. But when you’re chasing that perfect Adirondack sunrise, you do what you have to do.

So, with a thermos full of ambition (and coffee that could strip paint), I drove two hours north into the fog-drenched wonderland that is Old Forge, New York, the beating heart of the western Adirondack Mountains, where mirror-still lakes meet pine-lined horizons, and the mist rolls in thick enough to make a photographer both cry and rejoice.

The Adirondack Awakening

For anyone who hasn’t been, Old Forge is tucked along Route 28, just south of the Fulton Chain of Lakes, a stretch of glassy water that looks like it was designed specifically for landscape photographers and overly caffeinated dreamers. It’s a year-round outdoor hub — kayaking, hiking, skiing, or, in my case, voluntarily freezing while taking pictures of fog.

That morning, visibility was approximately “nope.” I could barely see ten feet ahead. Possibly only five. But photographers know — the worse the conditions, the better the shot. And this time, I didn’t just get lucky. I nailed it.

The fog was moody perfection. The reflection of the pines blurred into watercolor softness. A single loon cut through the mist like it was auditioning for a magazine cover. It was one of those rare moments when everything aligns — gear, light, patience, and maybe divine intervention.

The Technical Side (or, How to Make Magic Out of Milk)

Settings for the win:

• Camera: Nikon D750 (because some mornings you need full-frame forgiveness)

• Lens: 70–200mm f/2.8 — ideal for pulling subjects out of the fog without losing depth

• Aperture: f/8 for balanced sharpness

• Shutter: 1/200–1/400 depending on the wildlife’s cooperation

• ISO: 400–800 — because fog eats light like teenagers eat snacks

  
  

Pro tip: Fog is basically nature’s softbox. It diffuses everything — the harsh edges, the shadows, the mistakes. Expose for the highlights and let the mist do the mood work.

Bonus: If you shoot in RAW (and you should), push your whites and dehaze later, but don’t overdo it — leave a little mystery in the frame. That’s where the soul lives.

Wildlife and Winning

There’s a special kind of rush when you spot a loon slicing through the fog or a heron ghosting along the shore. In Old Forge, wildlife isn’t a bonus — it’s the main event. Patience pays off: keep your shutter priority mode on standby, your tripod loose, and your finger ready. The key is to let the landscape breathe and the wildlife surprise you.

I caught one loon mid-bathe — wings spread, sunrise and fog at the perfect time, the eerie haunting of the loon talking in the background. That shot? Pure art. The kind that reminds you why you do this.

The Feeling of Finally Nailing It

By the time the sun broke over the mountains, the fog peeled back just enough to reveal a perfect golden mirror across Moss Lake. I stood there — exhausted, freezing, grinning — realizing this was one of those “career highlight” mornings. The kind you can’t plan, only earn.

There’s no better feeling than driving home through the mountains with a memory card full of gold and the smug satisfaction of knowing you got the shot.

Final Thoughts (and One More Coffee)

Old Forge is everything photographers dream of: Fog that paints. Light that teases. And silence that feels like a reward.

If you ever want to test your patience, your gear, and your caffeine tolerance — this is the place. The Adirondack Mountains will humble you, but they’ll also hand you your best work if you’re willing to chase it.

Would I do it again? Absolutely. 4 a.m. alarms, frozen fingers, and all. Because when the fog lifts and the frame clicks — that’s the moment you know you’re not just taking pictures anymore. You’re making art.