The story behind the photo: A kickstarting shot
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"Oh, you have an expensive camera. This thing must take nice photos!"
This isn’t oversimplified or made up. It’s an actual quote that still pops up occasionally. But is it true? For me, a photo is a story—it tells a moment, frozen in time. And it’s a story that keeps being told to anyone who looks at it.
In this series, we’d like to share not only the story of the photo itself but also the journey behind making it. The planning of that special moment, the light that suddenly breaks through dark skies, and the joy—and frustration—that comes with chasing The Shot.
Today, most of us carry powerful cameras in our pockets. These devices easily outshine early digital cameras in their ability to stack pixels and capture photos in low light. Many phones even offer multiple focal lengths to choose from. However, as an enthusiast, it’s easy to forget that these cameras are just a bonus on a phone.
When you look at the pixel count, it’s tempting to think that the latest phones, with double the pixels of older, professional-grade cameras, must produce twice as good a photo. But doubling the amount of travel on your bike won’t double your ability to conquer a trail. A cooking knife that’s twice as sharp won’t make your meals taste twice as good. Similarly, picking up a camera is like picking up any tool—you need to understand it in order to use it effectively. The situation in front of you is the real challenge, not the gear. A better camera or a faster lens might make it easier—but if you know what you’re doing, a less capable camera may still give you a fantastic result. And, if the light is right, even an ordinary shot can become extraordinary.
It was Christmas Eve morning, 2006. The holiday was about to kick off, with time spent with family, great food, and the inevitable debates about politics. But before we all headed home, we decided to get out for a bike ride. German winters can be freezing and sometimes snowy, but they also have a magical quality. After a few slips and slides around the local forest corners, the sun decided to make an appearance. Where the fog had blanketed the valley and clouded our minds just moments ago, rays of yellow light started piercing through the mist. The sun, low in the sky due to the season, became so strong that it pushed the fog aside, revealing a clear blue sky. Yet the mist clung stubbornly to the blackened silhouettes of trees.
“Head over there! Quick!” That was all I said to my friends as I fumbled to pull out the tiny budget camera I had stuffed into my riding pants that morning. It wasn’t about capturing the action; it was about the mood, the situation. With only 6 megapixels and manual exposure settings, all it took was understanding the right moment and seizing it.
A few months later, I decided to reshoot that photo with my friends in different poses. I spent half a year scouting locations, checking the weather forecast, and trying to align people with the sky in the same way. It was impossible.
You could label this as a "lucky shot," and that’s perfectly fine. Luck does play a role in great photos. But as photographers, it’s our job to be ready. To be aware of the changing light and to make the most of it. Understanding your tools, knowing how to use them, and capturing the moment—that’s what makes the difference. It’s about freezing a memory, a fleeting fraction of time, to be shared later.
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Author – Jens Staudt
Height: 191 cm
Weight: 87 kg
Riding style: With his racing background, the lines are planned, even if there is anything bigger in his way. If possible, sections will be jumped over. You should use the entire width of a trail. Others would say - uncompromising.
Motivation: A product should function carefree and for as long as possible. If you have to screw less, you can ride more. He likes to tinker and see how the bike can be optimized.