Predating both Canada and the United States, the Indigenous-derived name of Lake Ontario has been recorded by Europeans beginning in the 1630s–1640s. “Ontario” comes from an Iroquoian language, but its precise source and translation remain debated. It is commonly connected either to Wendat Ontarí:io—interpreted as “great lake” or “beautiful lake”—or to Mohawk kanyatarí:yo, meaning approximately “beautiful” or “handsome lake.” “Sparkling water” is another familiar translation, although it may derive from a related form rather than from Ontarí:io itself.
Whatever its precise origin, the name reflects the awe the lake inspired in those who first walked its shores—an emotion that still lives in all of us fortunate enough to call this place home.
I spent another week on a walkabout, traveling through New York, New Jersey, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania. As always, photography was an important part of the experience. This time, however, the way I approached it was different.
Normally, I travel with several cameras and two or three times as many lenses. For this trip, everything fit into one small backpack: a Panasonic Lumix S9 with an 18–40mm lens and the L10 with its built-in 24–75mm lens. Truth be told, the S9 came out of the bag on only one of the first few days. After that, the L10 handled nearly everything.
Traveling with an ever-smaller collection of gear has long been one of my goals—especially when a walkabout happens on a motorcycle. Space is limited, every extra item adds weight, and complicated choices can get in the way of simply paying attention.
This trip showed me that the L10 could handle just about anything my admittedly suspect photography skills asked of it. It was equally at home recording the sweep of a landscape and revealing the tiny details hiding beside the road: sunlight caught in the delicate fibers of a thistle, or the intricate markings of a wasp balanced on a cluster of flowers.
Those small scenes were easy to overlook amid seven states and so many miles. Having a capable camera close at hand made it just as easy to stop and look again.
I returned home with more than 1,500 photographs—not that quantity means much by itself. What mattered was that the cameras handled everything I pointed them at. More importantly, I never once wished I had brought another camera body or lens along for the ride.
Perhaps that is the real advantage of traveling light. With less equipment to think about, there is more room to notice what is right in front of you.
