When deciding what camera gear to pack for a long holiday on the road, it’s true that I’ve never quite packed right. One can’t be prepared for all occasions and there’s always the thought in my mind that I need to pack light, lest I strain a muscle or two. As it turns out, I could have packed the optically superior 70-300mm Nikkor ED VR lens over the Nikkor 200mm DX VR. I should know by now that when deciding between packing light or packing heavier, but optically better, lenses, I should prioritise the better glass, even if it means a sore shoulder at the end of the day.
It’s not that the Nikkor 200mm is a terrible lens, it’s just old and performs better on older Nikon bodies that don’t demand so much resolving power from lenses. Even though the Nikon D3400 is a lightweight consumer-grade camera, Nikon still managed to squeeze in a top class crop sensor.
So, what to do when I need the extra reach that an optically questionable telephoto lens gives me, but it’s going to produce soft photos with lower contrast? This is where the available gear informs thought, idea, behaviour, and photographic practice. Optically inferior lenses are useful in their way ~ the shape and tonality of distant mountains shrouded in haze and evening mist – the colour of enormous clouds at sunrise. Even old glass is capable of good photos when limits are understood. If sharp detail isn’t possible, colour, tone, and shape may present as important themes, as in this case.
Mountains of blue, Townsville QLD – Nikon D3400 and Nikkor 200mm DX VR lensLong morning clouds near the Gulf of Carpentaria, QLD – Nikon D3400 and Nikkor 200mm DX lens
In my ongoing efforts to further crappify photos from the Camp Snap camera in the quest for feel and vibe, I’m definitely finding a grungy digital look with soft edges. I might not be able to tame the woeful oversharpening and noise reduction of the firmware, but I can absolutely stick some terrible pieces of glass and plastic in front of that tiny lens. Here’s where I really lean into the bad – the soooo bad, it might even be good. Maybe…
Arriving at the station – Camp Snap V105 with double softening filter in low light
Low light, two filters, and a tiny sensor, made through a car windshield – that’s a recipe for an image so grainy you could almost eat it with a spoon. I think it delivers some special digital vibe in a very lo-fi way.
Speeding through digital existence – Camp Snap with all the bad digital stuff
I’m really encouraging all the grain and the blown out highlights in the photo above. Those two stacked diffusion filters and low light conditions have slowed the shutter down so that the train is blurred. Add some spicy high ISO to the mix and this is the sort of image that most photogs would thumb their noses at. I like it. My favourite of the lo-fi digital train series.
I recently purchased something I don’t usually look at – a toy camera that’s been doing the rounds on social media and seems to be popular with Gen Z and others who are looking for some kind of vintage-film-vibe from a digital camera. The Camp Snap is founded on some solid principles: an easy to use camera that kids can use on Summer Camps. In that context, the Camp Snap is actually kind of cool. So, is it any good? Is it worth picking up?
I can thank a gift card for bringing down the price to a level where I was actually interested. Otherwise, this is definitely an overpriced hunk of light plastic for what is essentially a cheap webcam in a shell. And if that sounds like bad news, then it’s likely only bad news if you’re looking for a quality camera that makes quality pictures. But if you’re in the mood for something that could be fun, and you also have a flexible attitude to image-making, then the Camp Snap might be of interest.
Tree at sunset – Camp Snap with my custom filter
Camp Snap camera features
It’s a simple plastic camera for kids with a shutter button that lights up in green, a USB C port for image transfers and charging, a LED flash that’s quite weak, a tiny CMOS sensor that produces 8 megapixel JPGs, and no screen for image reviews apart from a single readout that tells you how many photos you’ve made. Oh, it also comes pre-installed with a 4GB Micro SD card/TF Card. You can change the card if you unscrew a small panel. About the most annoying thing I’ve so far found is that the rubber covering over the USB port is recessed and hard to get my too-short fingernails underneath to lift up.
One thing I like is that it’s possible to use an online tool to create your own filters, spit out a *.flt file, and then drag it across to the root directory of the SD card. When you switch it on, the operating system reads the custom filter and applies the values – contrast, saturation, brightness, hue, RGB gamma – to every photo. In the photo of the tree above, I used a custom filter where I’d altered the RGB gamma values and emphasised mostly greens. It’s a quick experimental filter, so I’ll see how it goes.
Two trees – Camp Snap V105 with my custom filter
The bad news
If you’re looking for quality images, don’t buy a Camp Snap camera. It’s as simple as that. Hard to believe that anyone would think a cheap toy camera would make quality photos, of course. The photos have plenty of digital noise, are waaaaay oversharpened, and are aggressively denoised. This terrible combination results in photos that look like impressionist paintings when you zoom in. And even if you don’t zoom to look at the aggressive smoothing, you can see distinct sharpening haloes in high contrast scenes. I suspect all of this is to combat the teeny-tiny-noisy CMOS webcam sensor. In modern digital camera terms, it’s a piece of crap.
Vintage vibe?
I guess if you’re into that oversharpened and oversmoothed digital photo look from a 2007 mobile phone, then you’ll consider the Camp Snap a vintage photo-maker. I’ve read claims of it looking film-like and vintage, but this is not film. It really doesn’t look like film. Online claims of the photos looking vintage beyond the results of an old phone camera are a stretch. It’s a maker of jaggy digital images. If you want the film-look, buy a cheap consumer film camera from the 90s. Just be aware that it’s gonna cost you a bunch in film and development costs.
The good news
I bet you’re thinking this is a truly awful camera and I have some premium regrets, right? Actually, no. Apart from the fact that a gift card saved my bank account from what I think is an overpriced and slightly overhyped product, I didn’t buy it thinking it was going to make me quality photos (I have enough Nikon cameras for the whole neighbourhood, frankly). And that’s kinda the point of the camera.
The Camp Snap is easy to use. Really easy. A full battery charge is supposed to last for around 500 photos. That means you can slip it in your pocket day after day and make so many spur of the moment photos that you’ll forget about them until you come to download them – a bit like making film photos and then discovering undeveloped rolls in your drawer much later.
Speaking of spur of the moment, that’s probably the best thing about the Camp Snap. A cheap camera with no screen for reviewing images, a single plastic shutter button, and focus-free operation is a recipe for making photos without the mind being overburdened. It actually promotes a mindful-in-the-momentapproach to making photos. You’ll likely make photos of things you wouldn’t even normally bother with, just to see how they turn out.
That scene of a rubbish bin at sunset? You’re probably not wasting time grabbing your Nikon DSLR to record that moment. But you’ll probably slip the Camp Snap from your pocket, make a quick photo, and then move on. There’s a certain liberation in that. And as long as you don’t expect good quality, some of those photos might even have some digital charm.
Corrupted green – Camp Snap and a corrupted filter
The other cool thing is that you can make your own photo filters and drop them into the root directory. Want to push the greens? You can do that. Want more contrast and saturation? You can do that too. It’s nothing more complex than the sort of thing you can do in any half-decent image editor or phone application, but it does contribute to the fun factor.
That bad looking photo above was made using a filter that, I believe, became corrupted when I used Lightroom to apply tweaks to a PNG file provided by Camper Snapper (a custom third party Camp Snap filter maker) and then truncated to an 8 bit file instead of 24 bits on the file save. It reminds me of a grainy photocopy. What this little mistake tells me is that the Camp Snap provides room for experimentation, and I think that’s fun.
Light on the wall – Camp Snap camera V105 and my custom filter
Room to have fun
The Camp Snap camera might make bad photos, mostly, but I don’t think the makers lean into the bad quite enough. Rather than excessive smoothing and sharpening, I’d rather see more noise and softer images. I’d rather see less quality! This is not quite the digital version of the Diana camera!
You definitely don’t want to zoom in on these photos and pixel-peep, but at small print or web-viewing sizes, you’ll hardly notice the noise patterns or the excessive smoothing. That said, I doubt this is aimed at anyone who’s considering printing these photos out. As a way to focus purely on the moment, put it in a pocket, and return to the bad old days of terrible phone photos surrounded by friends and family and moments, I think the Camp Snap offers some value.
What I will be doing is degrading the photos further. In my short testing with an old Kodak Hawkeye lens in front of the Camp Snap’s tiny lens, the results are soft and colourful and very very blurry. I’ll be striving to make the photos dreamier in future.
There’s a place for a product like this, even if I disagree with the pricing. I can definitely see a lot of young people taking this out to use with friends to record some crazy moments. This is the real appeal of Camp Snap – a simple camera that harks back to the screenless disposable film camera, minus the development costs, and encourages experimentation and fun in the moment.
One common criticism I hear is: “Why would you want such bad and unsharp photos when you have sharp lenses and modern cameras?”
This question assumes that one should only care about sharp and technically perfect photos, as though cameras from yesteryear couldn’t make good photos. There are times when I want sharp photos with lots of latitude for editing and other times when I’m primarily interested in vibe and feel. Toy cameras like this fall into the feel and the vibe category. Even technically poor images can communicate something worthy to a viewer. In the end, it’s the images that matter and not the gear.
Kodak Hawkeye life – Camp Snap camera, freelensing with a Kodak Hawkeye lens
If you believe the more scurrilous online rumours, the quality of a camera lens from the former Soviet Union was directly proportional to the Vodka consumption of weary factory workers. This is not the colourful fancy one might suppose, as any factory line embedded in an economic and socio-political culture where wages are neither incentive nor punishment is more likely to be driven by exhausted hands and eyes.
None of this suggests that any cheap trinket or fast fashionable piece made today in vast factory cities by exploited workers and then sent abroad to be marked up for huge profits is any better. Always, there are grifters and exploiters taking advantage of the vulnerable and the gullible. But anyway…I digress slightly. The source of my Soviet-produced lensbeyond the factory floor is not a story for today.
The Zenitar 16mm 2.8 Fisheye lens is an impressive piece of Cold War glass. It’s a hefty thing in the hands, has a distinct and very short hood, a lens cap that can’t be used on any other lens, and looks great when the sunlight bounces off the large curved glass that sits right out front. On my trusty Olympus EM5 Mark 2, this 16mm Zenitar has a field of view equivalent to a 32mm focal length in 35mm format. So, if I was using it on my Z5, which has a 35mm sensor, the field of view is the native 16mm. Because my Olympus has a digital sensor that’s half the size of the one in my Z5, I double the 16mm to a field of view of 32mm instead.
Trudging through swampland at mid-afternoon – Olympus EM5 Mark 2 and Zenitar 16mm Fisheye
My copy of the lens is sharp enough at apertures F 5.6-8, and even at those settings the corners display a lack of sharpness that’s more fizzy than actually mushy – as though details are being pulled away from the centre and slightly distorted. The effect reminds me of using a plastic lens but I don’t find it unpleasant.
Capitalism harms us all – Olympus EM5 Mark 2 and Zenitar 16mm Fisheye
As with other wide angles, and certainly with all Fisheye lenses, there’s distortion. You can see how the normally straight cortners of the skip bins in the above photo look bowed. I don’t have an issue with it, as this is just a feature of the lens, but it’s not the sort of lens you want if you desire pleasant portraits, straight horizons, and distortion-free buildings (using the Nikkor 16mm 2.8 lens profile in Lightroom will straighten out most of the distortion if you really want that).
Lenses like this are great for getting in very close to a subject to take advantage of the optical distortions they produce. On the Olympus, however, the Fisheye effect is certainly much less because of the smaller sensor size, making it a really valuable wide-angle lens if you don’t mind manual focus, fizzy corners, and the chance that the quality of your copy may have suffered due to the effects of authoritarianism and the revolutionary whims of Vladimir Lenin.
I’ve been trying to get out for shorter photo sessions in recent weeks because it’s not always possible to find a free day for an organised day-trip. At the very least, it gives me a chance to find some new locations and subjects. I can also pack a few older camera bodies and lenses without placing much pressure on myself to come back with plenty of photo winners. So, what do you do when the clouds are heavy, time is limited, the light is failing, and interesting subjects are lacking? Well, I happened to spot an interesting looking tree by the side of the road:
Twisting against the failing light – Nikon D200 and Tamron 17-50mm 2.8 lens
I don’t usually convert colour photos to black and white but sometimes it’s a good way to explore other qualities of an image. Black and white emphasises tonality, texture, and geometry. Just look at all of the twisting branches in the photo above. Even at ISO 800 in dull light, the Nikon D200 produces little noticeable noise. I didn’t bother to apply any noise reduction at all since the digital noise pattern is quite fine.
Here’s another version with more contrast, blue shadows, and warm highlights:
It was the perfect afternoon for us to ramble along a walking trail through century old goldfields nearby. I’d decided to pack the Nikon D40 and the Fujifilm S6500fd. I totally forgot about the Sony RX100 sitting in the zipper pocket of my camera shoulder-bag – the usual go-to in case an old camera flakes on me. I’ll say this about the Finepix S6500fd: the combination of the tiny Super CCD sensor – ancient in digital photography terms – and the long, sharp lens, produce some really interesting photographs at times.
Ghostly gums – Finepix S6500fd
Setting the camera to the Fuji-chrome setting and Fine JPG seemed to enhance the blues and purples in this photo. Maybe it was the combination of the cloud, sunlight, shade, subject, and white balance, but there’s a really strong look to the image. I haven’t added additional colour in editing.
Gum trees along the trail – Fujifilm Finepix S6500fd
For the above photo, I decided to set the camera to generate RAF files – CCD-RAW in the settings menu. I wasn’t even sure they’d open in Lightroom, but they did, and I’m pretty pleased. This provides more latitude and flexibility during editing. As you can see above, I was able to draw out pretty good detail in the shadows and sharpen the image in specific areas. It’s not easy to see without magnifying in Lightroom, but there’s some beautiful detail and tonality in the bark. Hard to believe from this piece of old gear.
Beneath the bark – Finepix S6500fd
Finally, one of my favourite features on old bridge cameras is the Macro and Super-Macro modes, at the touch of a button. It’s so handy for getting up close when there’s good available light for a decent shutter speed. I usually wander handheld, so there’s no tripod involved. Steady hands and good light are a must under these circumstances. It’s a JPG (wish I’d set to CCD-RAW), but the colour and range of tonality is still impressive. The best photos from this camera, like the S7000, seem to have a versimillitude about them. Note to self: set this camera to make RAF files from now on!
How do you store your digital photo files? In this modern world, it’s a regular concern – how to safely and securely store all of the digital detritus that builds up around us. It used to be so easy when we just had to remember a few passwords. There was no such thing as 2 factor authentication years ago. Security breaches and cyber-hacks have put paid to having an easy life when it comes to digital security. And you know something? I’m a bit burned out on all of it…it feels a bit too much some days.
Stacked for the night – Nikon D70s
Just trying to organise photo files feels like a burden. I’ve had hard drives go bust over the years. The ever-swelling trove of files gets bigger and the voice gets louder: “Find an easy way to store all this crap or delete more!” – as if I’m stuck playing a simulation game and the goal is just to move shit around every minute of every day and night. Like Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill.
As I said previously, I use Microsoft One Drive these days. At the very least, I can use the cloud to quickly backup DNG files and TIFFs for future download. I know lots of people feel like they shouldn’t have to pay, but in the age of information overload, I think it’s a good idea to find a reasonable solution that offers enough storage for a good price. It’s the business model that Google tends to run with: offer generous freemium cloud storage, but not too much, so that people come to rely on it for their photo and file backups. Then offer paid tiers for more storage room.
Diesel back in the day – Nikon D70s
I suppose we’re always looking to organise something – photos, files, music, our lives. And truthfully, sometimes all of those files feel like too much of a weight – like a digital albatross. I can’t even tell you how many sites I’ve been locked out of because an old paid email address went bust and now the site is sending the password I’ve forgotten to an email address that doesn’t exist. Or software license codes that got lost in the shuffle of hard drives and file moves. The 21st century has the feel of a password-protected version of copy of a copy of a copy, featuring tiny beige plastic parts that need to be glued together against a time-limit. So, I guess this is my rant about simplicity and complexity, as if there was ever a simple time. And since I work with vulnerable people, many of whom live really tough lives, I must say that I feel a little queasy even making a small complaint about any of it. Life moves and changes and we’re just the floating leaves flung by the ripples and waves as it goes.
I’ve previously written about the Nikon D70. As I seem to have some affinity for older Nikon cameras, and as my D70 is also pretty beaten up, I couldn’t resist a good deal on a Nikon D70s with an attached Nikkor lens that has long been on my list: the Nikkor 35-70mm 3.3-4.5 AF lens. First released in 1986, the 35-70mm is most definitely a lens made for film cameras of the time as a cheap walk-around unit.
Some detractors say the focal length of 35-70mm isn’t especially useful on an APS-C sized sensor, but I disagree – 35mm is a popular wide, not not too wide, focal length, and 70mm can most certainly get you close or give you a decent portrait. Even if you consider equivalence (and a 50mm lens is still a 50mm lens on any sized sensor), the lens gives us 35mm eqivalent focal lengths of 52mm, 85mm, and 105mm – all three of them very useful lengths on any camera.
Snapping plant monsters in the suburbs – Nikon D70s
As for the D70s, it was announced in August 2005 and came hot on the heels of the original Nikon D70. The differences between the two models are minor, with the back-screen of the S iteration being 2 inches rather than the 1.8 inches of the original. The other features remain the same really: a 6.1 megapixel CCD APS-C-sized sensor, a top LCD screen with settings information, and an array of useful external controls, including ISO and White Balance, among others. Though it’s an all-black-plastic affair and has that familiar hollow feel of Nikon’s cheaper offerings, it definitely has a prosumer feature-set. Sure, the Nikon D200 is the professional upgrade, with a solid magnesium-alloy skeleton that feels like a giant warm buttered scone in the hand, but the D70s still remains a competent DSLR even in 2025.
The old blue van – Nikon D70s
All the photos were made using the lens at F-stops 5.6 – 8. As you can see, the photos are sharp and punchy, even using a 6.1 megapixel sensor from yesteryear. Need I go on about the competent image-making capabilities of these older cameras?
Covered in cactus – Nikon D70s and Nikkor 35-70mm 3.3-4.5 lens
I was helped by heavy cloud-cover, as there wasn’t a lot of dynamic range for the old CCD sensor to manage. Even though you can print pretty large from a 6 megapixel camera easily without much loss, the lack of cropping room makes one slow down and compose deliberately – there’s no running and gunning here. No lazy composition and fix it in the edit mentality. Old lenses, lack of high ISO, and fewer megapixels is good for getting back to the basics of photography: seeing clearly, connecting to the world through imagination, subject choice, composing deliberately, correct settings to suit scene and intent, and good hand-held technique.
If you print a 1 megapixel photo at billboard size, it will look like badly made bricks up close. If you stand 50 feet away instead, where just about everyone will be viewing it from, that 1 megapixel image will look pretty good. Viewing distance makes all the difference, and this is what we also need to consider when it comes to resolution and print sizes. Are you standing two inches away to view your photo prints? Even so, I don’t want to needlessly toss pixels away if I can help it, especially on these old cameras. I slow down, look, reflect, imagine, think through settings, check the histogram for exposure, and adjust if necessary.
As disappointed as I was in my last post about the Pentax I recently acquired, I managed to make some decent photos on the day. The small backscreens on old cameras aren’t good enough to determine much of anything about sharpness or focus, so I usually make a few photos of the same subject to have some redundancy in case of faults and errors.
Old bridge over the Broughton River – Pentax K10D
I think sometimes we get too used to the idea that every photo should be as sharp as possible. It’s a common criticism in photography groups, of course. But what constitutes sharpness in a photo? Good focus is one primary ingredient – something I struggled with on the Pentax. Contrast is another characteristic that contributes to the perception of sharpness. Aperture size is also important, as this determines depth of field and just how much of a photo is going to be in focus and acceptably sharp. A fast enough shutter speed if a tripod isn’t being used is also key to avoiding blurry photos.
The old dumping ground – Pentax K10D
I don’t know about you, but my eyesight isn’t good enough to see the world like the best lenses. I can zoom in on a super sharp photo in Lightroom and see all the details. That’s a wonderful thing and I’m often amazed at how much detail modern lenses and sensors can resolve, but acceptable sharpness is also a range within which a photo looks good to our eyes. There are well-known lenses from every manufacturer that aren’t known to be super sharp, yet I’m sure many excellent photos have been made with them.
Free book library – Pentax K10D
Inexpensive kit lenses often receive criticism from people who view the technical quality of gear as primary markers of status and image quality. If you’ve chosen the correct aperture, correct ISO, correct shutter speed, and the correct point of focus for the scene, the rest is down to technique, content, and composition. A lens that’s not super sharp can certainly produce wonderful photos of subjects that are a good fit for the glass. Great content and compostion will always beat out slightly soft photos every time in my books. As I’ve said before, amazing photos were made over a century ago with equipment we’d consider primitive when contrasted to the camera gear of today.
When I was growing up, we’d spend time with another family on special occasions. They’d emigrated at the same time as us to Australia, and we’d maintained the sort of cultural bond with each other that immigrants often do when they’re finding their feet in a new country. Even though my brother and I didn’t have much in common with their two girls, we always found a way to have fun, whether it was hide and seek, boardgames, or exploring the nearby school on weekends.
I have a vivid memory of going to their home one day and looking up to see a large camera I’d never seen before sitting on a shelf in the dining room – a Pentax. Bigger and more professional looking than the usual plastic film cameras I was used to seeing, it seemed to suggest that someone in their family was a bit more serious than most about making photos. I never had the courage to ask, but that bold white Pentax font was burned into my memory.
A few weeks ago, I came into possession of my own Pentax – a K10D. Released in late 2006, it was a nice semi-pro DSLR with some interesting features ~ weathersealing, sensor-based shake reduction, and the same well-regarded CCD sensor as the Nikon D200. It even came to me in a Lowepro Nova 160 AW camera bag that still looks to have plenty of life left in it as a daily shoulder carry. As Ricoh-Pentax has, to me, always seemed a brand doing it’s own thing regardless of the trends, and bearing in mind the curiosity stoked in me since seeing that serious looking camera on the shelf, you can imagine I was quite excited to take it out for a day of use.
Closed up in Redhill – Pentax K10D with Sigma 17-50mm lens
We should be cautious about rushing into what seems like a good deal, especially online. I’ve been pretty lucky with my purchases, but sometimes old gear comes with problems. Despite a body in good condition and a shutter about a third of the way through its average life, my K10D isn’t in the best shape internally. Mine seems to have front and back focus problems, likely related to the dreaded mirror drop issue that plagued so many of these units. It took Pentax ages to own up to the problem officially.
Of course, the soft and slightly out of focus photos could also be due to the Shake Reduction system not playing nice, bad glass, or user error – though you’d expect that making a photo at 1 / 750th of a second in good light with plenty of depth of field wouldn’t be the cause of visual mush. And I know of no Sigma glass that’s so poor as to make everything soft even at an F-stop of 8. Given the inconsistency of the focal plane from photo to photo, I suspect one side of the mirror has tilted downwards slightly, thereby affecting sharp focus. I think this because every single photo comes out with the same tilt no matter how well I frame it: the right side tilted down. It’s easily corrected in Lightroom, but still annoying. The only other culprit could be the interchangeable focus screen being slightly askew – something that’s easier to adjust. Disappointment aside, these are some of the best photos from the day…
Insidethe old farm-house – Pentax K10D
In some ways, I don’t mind slightly soft photos. Whilst I had to do more than my usual sharpness adjustment in Lightroom to compensate, they remind me a little of photos from a cheap old film camera.
Abandoned garage – Pentax K10D
The K10D is a nice camera to hold. The body seems to have more organic curves than the upright and serious looking Nikons I’ve grown accustomed to. The LCD screen is nice and bright, as is the optical viewfinder. It has a different hand-feel to my Nikons – slightly more refined in some ways, but lacking the external controls of the D200. If Nikon is the serious-looking man at the local bar drinking only tap water and green tea in the corner, Pentax is the loose fellow pressing buttons for fun on the jukebox after a few exotic beers.
Shipping container patina – Pentax K10D
Problems aside, it was good to finally use a Pentax after all those years of wondering about the camera on the shelf. Will I get another Pentax? I definitely won’t be rushing to do so. One of the hazards of picking up old cameras is that sometimes there are unreported faults. I have a Nikon D70 that’s very worn, but still makes great photos. The Pentax looks great and clean, but it’s not a trustworthy companion I’m afraid. I was a Pentaxian just for a day, and it was kinda nice. I’ll keep the nice Lowepro shoulder bag though!
The Rusty Ruin Journal 