Autonomous Tent
An episode of Top Gear is playing on my iPhone. I'm distracting myself by watching Clarkson whip about in an Aerial Atom while my plane bumps through turbulence. After an uneventful landing in San Jose, I picked up my rental car and headed out to Silicon Valley. This was a trip of firsts for me. I've been in California most of my life, but there were still plenty of blank locations on the bingo card. As it happened, the first stop was not in the cards at all. Glancing down at the directions on my phone, I saw that the Winchester Mystery House was a nearby attraction. Excited, I pulled off at the nearest exit. The quick rundown: The Widow and heir to the Winchester gun fortune had her mansion in a perpetual state of construction, believing it would keep away the angry spirits of those who were shot by Winchester weapons. The house's 160 confusing rooms and walkways became a legend and a worthwhile tour/ghost hunt. I found the truth about Sarah Winchester far more interesting than the lore, and I highly recommend checking it out, especially if you're into Queen Anne Victorian architecture.
Ok, back to the bingo card. I was navigating my way to Big Sur for a week of hiking, landscape, and architectural photography—precisely, a small architectural wonder known as the Autonomous Tent. Rewind the clock, and I was flipping through the pages of an architecture magazine. A spread showcased a uniquely shaped structure sitting by itself on a cliff. I was immediately fascinated. I HAD to photograph it. The initial excitement upon finding out it was available to book gave way to disappointment as I realized it had been booked for over a year. The idea was shelved and eventually forgotten. A year later, I saw a familiar image of the tent online and decided to look into it again. It was booked for another 6 months, but there was some availability in the fall. I immediately pulled the trigger and booked 3 nights.
No more jumping around in time, I promise. Driving the Big Sur coast, I got a "Jeep wave" from another Jeep driver. Mine was a rental, and I sheepishly continued with stolen Valor. Ahead, impressive vistas stretched out around every corner like a landscape arms race. I frequently pulled to the side to snap a pic or two. With the sun reaching its apex, I focused on reaching my destination. The Autonomous tent is located in Treebones, an eco-resort known for its Yurts and being just about as isolated as you can get on Big Sur. Blink, and you will miss the turn-in. After a quick check-in at the communal building, I found myself riding in a golf cart on a dirt trail. Clutching a camera bag in one hand and backpack in the other, we rounded some vegetation, and the tent came into view. The Autonomous tent was the literal and figurative outlier on the property being removed from all other lodgings.
Calling it a tent is a stretch as this looks nothing like any tent I've seen. The shape is shell-like, with a series of expanding ribs and a canvas material stretched over the frame. When viewed from the rear, it looks similar to a beetle carapace. The expanding shape meets an abrupt end at the front with a flat wooden fascia. However, the canvas extends outward, drawn to a point by the center spine. The entry has two doors, a round deck, and a firepit flanked by two Adirondack chairs. It's modern yet fits perfectly within the landscape. Inside is a small but powerful fireplace, a large bed, and a seating area. Behind the bed is a partitioning wall separating the bedroom with the unique clawfoot shower. Being from SoCal, I'm not built for cold weather, but my fears were tempered upon learning about the heated floor.
After settling in and unpacking the camera, I got to work in the late afternoon. It was chilly, and the sky was overcast. I set about doing some scouting. Ocean waves were crashing on the cliffs below. It was a soft, low roar that you could fall asleep to. The lighting was primarily flat with little shadow. Walking away to the south of the tent, I lined up a few potential shots. Initially, I wasn't getting what I wanted, so I moved closer, shuffled around, and took a good-looking test shot. As the light faded, I moved to the front and framed a single-point perspective shot. Next up was the trail leading away from the tent. It was steeper than I anticipated. The kind folks at Treebones warned me against nighttime wandering, especially without a flashlight. One could easily find themselves doing a half gainer into a bush. There were a couple of path options. One was a service path to access the compost receptacles; the other eventually led to the yurts a fair distance away.
I decided to try both paths, framing out shots for the two. A bottle of Reisling was calling my name by the firepit, and I headed back to the tent. I watched the last muted light fade from the overcast sky, and the deep blues turned black. The waves and occasional distant "yarp" and "bork" of the seals created a relaxing atmosphere. The firepit and wine were the cherry on top. It was an exceedingly rare moment when everything felt perfect. A little bit of advice... If you are ever aware of being in that perfect moment, hold onto it, look for the little details, inhale deeply to pull in the scent, feel the textures around you, listen closely to the tiniest sounds, note the temperature, eat or drink something good, and lock in that core memory. Recalling a vivid, comforting memory is handy when life gets challenging.
When the temperature dropped further, I turned in for the night and was greeted by that sweet, sweet, heated floor. I blame the wine for the pathetic moonwalk, ungraceful spin, leap, and bellyflop on the bed that followed.
The next day started with familiar waves and seal ambiance. The sky was still overcast, but I planned light hiking for the morning and photography for the late afternoon.
Returning from the hike, I grabbed my camera and replicated the previous day's scouted shots. Taking the time the day before to scout made the capture efficient and allowed additional time to experiment a little or take a breath and enjoy the scenery between shots. Towards the end of the shoot, I got lucky with a shock of orange and yellow in the sky, breaking up the overcast clouds. The color reflected off the water and split the frame nearly dead center with my single-point perspective rear shot of the tent. I finished with a shot off the right-front corner with the last of the light and packed it in. I rinsed and repeated the previous night's events and prepared for some more hiking & photography the next day.
There were countless things I wanted more time to enjoy, see, and photograph in Big Sur. I'm desperately overdue for another visit. If you haven't had the chance, don't wait as long as I did to see it. The place has the power to inspire you. Try to stop by Treebones and check out the Autonomous tent along the way. I think they may have two now. Enjoy some wine by the fire pit, get lulled to sleep by the waves, and savor the moment.
