The Price of Admission: How I Almost Missed “The Shot” Over a Rental Fee

“Just rent the damn lens already!” - my wife’s response as I actively debated whether or not I should add the rental lens to my cart.

“It’s $300 though” I replied.

It’s probably worth pointing out that while this conversation is taking place, I had already fully committed to taking a week off for this photography project. For this particular trip, I researched the past ten years of bald eagle counts in North Idaho, and ran those numbers through ChatGPT to estimate the best week to see bald eagles. After determining this ideal timeframe, I requested the week off from work.

I have been photographing bald eagles for the past seven years, chasing the ideal image: a bald eagle diving for a Kokanee salmon in Lake Coeur d’Alene. Over that time, I’ve upgraded my camera twice and my telephoto lenses twice. The final step was renting a super-telephoto lens to ensure maximum reach.

I had been obsessively researching telephoto lenses and ultimately landed on the Nikon Z 800mm f/6.3 VR S. But now I hesitated. I do this…a lot. It drives me crazy and as you can tell from the opening line, it drives my wife crazy too.

Before clicking “add to cart,” I think about the thousands of eagle images I’ve taken. Some stand out more than others. I have great profiles of eagles in trees, soaring mid-flight, mid-dive, and just after making the catch. I’ve combed through my Lightroom catalog looking for the shot: a perfectly timed side profile of an eagle hitting the water and snatching a fish, illustrating the timing and grace these birds possess. I also wanted an image of an eagle flying directly at the camera—talons out, eyes locked in.

I have versions of these images, but they’re either just out of focus, or just far enough away to lack the crispness I want. This lens felt like another tool in the arsenal—something that could finally give me what I needed.

“I don’t know” I say out loud.

My wife, sitting on the couch next to me, looked up, clearly irritated. She had just been through this a few weeks earlier when I went back and forth about replacing my computer. I cursed my 2017 HP laptop every time it froze while importing or editing photos. Getting a new computer was her idea, and she encouraged me to future-proof the purchase.

“Don’t just get what you need now,” she said. “Think about what you want to do in the future. Maybe you’ll want to do videos someday. You’ll want something that can handle that.”

As usual, she struck the perfect balance between supportive and encouraging. Hell, she wouldn’t have cared if I bought this damn lens, in fact I’m sure she’d prefer that. And the MacBook Pro I ended up buying was really nice.

I completed the rental checkout and instantly felt a sense of relief and guilt.

“I rented it” I say.

“Good!” She replied, returning to her scrolling.

Immediately I started watching a YouTube video detailing a wildlife photographer’s experience with the lens—full of tips, tricks, and lessons learned. (Shoutout to Hudson Henry!) I was three weeks out from the start of my project. Too early to track weather patterns, but never too early to prepare. When the time came, I wanted to hit the ground running.

Three weeks later, I waited at home for the delivery from LensProToGo like I’m a kid on Christmas morning. After signing for the package, I opened the Pelican case and was immediately struck by how massive the lens was it even came with its own backpack.

I mounted, stepped outside, and snapped a few test shots—planes overhead, treetops in neighboring yards—getting a feel for how I’d be hiking with this thing for the next seven days. It was getting dark, and I still had work to finish, so I packed it away and waited impatiently for the morning trip to Coeur d’Alene.

Milspec packaging for this gigantic lens - I couldn’t wait to test it out!

Part of my ethos for this project was maximizing time in the field without disrupting family life. I coach my daughter’s indoor soccer team, and we had an 11 a.m. game the Saturday morning I planned to shoot. That meant an early start and only a few hours in the field.

The weather in Spokane was beautiful, but as I headed east, clouds hovered over the mountains surrounding the Idaho panhandle. Lake weather is unpredictable—it’s always a gamble. Still, I was committed.

When I arrived at Higgens Point, I was immediately discouraged by two things: heavy cloud cover and low eagle numbers. Only a handful appeared during the drive. I set out to the lower docks, telling myself that if nothing else, this would be a good chance to learn the lens.

Despite the conditions, the morning was peaceful. Fog drifted across Beauty Bay, and the view was stunning—though my focus remained fixed on The Shot.

Fog rolling across Beauty Bay

I hiked out to the point where an eagle was perched on a branch. Another photographer was set up on one side, tripod set and lens trained on the bird. A third photographer soon joined us. Clearly a slow day at Higgens Point.

I practiced shooting video, grabbed a few stills and packed up to head home and coach. Not a great start—but even the still image of the eagle was impressive. Tomorrow’s forecast looked better.

The lone bald eagle surveying the bay

Ariel, often referred to as the Queen of Higgens Point

The next morning, my kids joined me.

That meant an early sunrise drive—and donuts. The promise of donuts on the car ride to the lake helped convince everyone this would be a fun day out. My oldest , Avery, had recently shown interest in photography, so I offered to let her use my previous camera kit.

Four intrepid explorers ready to brave the weather!

The other Snoopy donut was the first casualty of the trip

At the trailhead, cars were already starting to line up. The weather was noticeably better. I helped Avery dial in her settings for birds on branches—a good place to start.

At the Centennial Trail View Point, an eagle was perched near the statue of Leopold the photographer. My two youngest sat on a bench overlooking the water while Avery and I photographed the bird. This spot is familiar to me, and I likely have near-identical compositions from years past. Eagles are known to come back to the same area throughout their lifetime.

I wondered if this was Ariel—a known eagle in the area—but we couldn’t see the distinctive dot beneath her right pupil. Still, the view was incredible!

This is one of my favorite images from the day—Tree Stand

I wanted the kids to enjoy the day as much as possible, so I asked them where they wanted to go. They all agreed on the dock. Looking down at the shore, I could see two photographers already set up on the dock and a few others setting up near the shore. Normally, this is where I would get in my own head and choose another spot. God bless the worldview of children.

“Sure, let’s go down there” I said.

We made our way along the trail down toward the shore and each of the kids determined their roles for the day. Avery, my oldest, was going to practice with my old kit. Peter, binoculars in hand, was going to be my spotter. Rosalind was the navigator, keeping us on the right trail and telling us to keep up when Avery and I paused to watch an eagle in a tree for a moment. As we were walking toward the beach, Peter called out an eagle in flight and that it had a fish.

“Dad, that one has a fish!”

Sure enough, it did. I’ve never thought of photography as a team sport, but this was working nicely. I stopped and captured a few images of this eagle in flight, talons full of Kokanee salmon returning to a tree branch.

At the dock, two photographers were already set up. I reminded the kids about respecting the space, and they did great. Avery and Roz hung back near the shore and Peter ventured out on the dock with me as my spotter. One photographer complimented the kids.

“You know they don’t have to be quiet right? I mean, I-90 is right there.” he said as he pointed at the noisy freeway just a few hundred yards away.

As my other two kids walked out onto the dock to join us I heard the second photographer mutter, “This is why I try and come out midweek.” Normally, that would’ve pushed me to leave. But before I had to decide, he packed up and left.

The two friendlier photographers from the beach walked out to the dock and took his place. As they were setting up, I was shooting a series of images trying to get The Shot of an eagle diving in my direction. As I reviewed my images on the back of my camera, Peter called out “Dad, that eagle is chasing the other one!” I love having a spotter.

I quickly trained the lens on these birds in flight and fired. One eagle slammed into the other midair, forcing it to drop its fish back into the lake.

“Tell me you got that!” one of the photographers from the front of the dock yelled out.

I looked at the back of my camera, cycling through the images. “Oh my God…I think I did."

Seven years of photographing eagles at Lake Couer d’Alene, and I’ve never seen anything like it. I know that eagles will fight over their catch, but I’ve never been fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time, until today.

This is my favorite image in this series. I called it “Pursuit” and it’s available as a print.

The kids were being good sports about spending the morning out at the lake with me and I could tell it was becoming time to go home. We packed up from the dock and headed back toward the car. I texted my wife that we were on our way back toward the car as we made our way back up the trail. So far, I was thrilled with the images I’d captured for the day. While I didn’t get the ideal shot I was looking for, I wasn’t disappointed in the least. I managed to get incredible images of eagles in trees and in flight, including the midair fight.

I’ve been coming out to Coeur d’Alene for years observing eagles and in that time I’ve developed a superstition: don’t look back.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve packed my gear up and looked back to the spot I was in moments ago, just to see an eagle make a perfect dive. After seeing this a few times, I decided that in the future, I would just save myself the grief and personal anguish. If you don’t look back, you don’t know that you missed it. And then:

“Dad! That one’s about to dive!”

I broke my own superstition and looked back. There it was. The Shot.

A perfect ending to the day. Seven years of chasing it and it was possible all thanks to my son, keeping a vigilant eye out along the water when I had given up. Again, God bless the worldview of a child.

This composite of five images depicts my pursuit of The Shot.

I love this image at the end of The Shot. I called it The Launch.

This project was always focused on bald eagles. They’re my favorite subject to shoot. Driving home, I couldn’t stop thinking about how close I came to missing everything—over $300 of hesitation.

If that day of proved anything it was this:

It was worth the price of admission.