Chris Burkard

The creative brief was simple — showcase the monoculars in a way that makes sense with your lifestyle. In other words, how would you actually use them on a day-to-day basis? NOCS hired us to shoot the new monocular in Iceland and enthusiastically handed over the creative reins to let us do what we do best. With a blank slate for a drawing board - we decided that physically testing the product in a couple of Iceland's inevitably harsh environments would give viewers a real life window into how they themselves might use it. Not some unattainable expedition that requires months of planning and access to remote places or specialized equipment.

So, in early December 2024, a good weather window rolled into the forecast and Jordan jumped on a plane to Iceland, meeting me and my assistant, Joel Barger, at our Reykjavik Studio to prepare for the next few days of shooting. A few cups of coffee and a creative brainstorm session later, we landed on two concepts: surfing and riding fatbikes. These two environments (if you will) were meant to naturally demonstrate the capabilities of the product and provide a real-life scenario where I have plenty of experience. With the clear weather forecast on the horizon, we made a quick call to my good friend, Elli Thor, who has shared many cold weather surf expeditions with me over the years and happens to live in the same neighborhood in Reykjavik. The reality of remote, cold water surfing is that before you do any paddling or actual surfing, lots of scouting and searching of promising coast lines takes place — so we decided to spend the day shooting the monocular with our roots in mind, given that the optic is a perfect tool for a closer look at the winter swell.

Cresting a sand dune accessible by 4x4, Elli, Jordan, Joel, and myself laid eyes on a beautiful little swell brushing a sweeping stretch of coastline along the southern shores of Iceland with what looked like "eggs" of ice littering the beach. It had been particularly cold the last couple of weeks — frigid enough to harden fresh water in a nearby estuary that flowed into the ocean and eventually washed up on shore creating these pretty balls of ice. Enjoying the late winter sunrise with golden light silhouetting the beach break, Elli and I took a moment to scan the area with the monocular while Jordan and Joel photographed the moment — taking advantage of the natural usage and me and Elli's genuine stoke on the beautiful morning. These are the kinds of scenes I try to emulate in a photoshoot, creating a real-life moment that playfully incorporates the optic but is genuinely enjoyable and something I would do. Iceland winter surf easily sits in that category.

Elli slipped on his 6mm wetsuit, hood, gloves, booties, and grabbed his favorite long board to paddle out while I cruised around the beach on my fatbike — appreciating the fresh air and recalling some early surf missions in similar places years back. As Elli casually paddled into waves, going down the line with the style and ease of someone who's been doing it for 20 years, I noticed that behind him was a big container ship with the words "Smyril Line"— a funny juxtaposition of enjoying nature's phenomenon with something as pure as surfing while machines of industry lay behind.

As the sun dipped behind the horizon (not much later than 3:45pm), Elli paddled in and we packed up, happy with the imagery taken on such a pure winter day and excited at how easily the monocle fit into the day, keeping a closer eye on the swell.

It's hard to top a crystal clear surf day in Iceland, so we didn't even try. Rather than attempting to outdo yesterday's images, we decided to take the more gritty and everyday concept of riding the fatbike in the areas surrounding Iceland's wintery capital city. The visual of cruising around Reykjavik's trail network and the surrounding areas on the Reykjanes Peninsula or the forests of Heidmork seemed like a realistic glance into what my daily outdoor activity looks like, especially when I'm parenting two kids and need to make use of the free hour or two while they're in Ju-jitsu. The funny thing about Iceland is that while these locations may be only 15 - 45 minutes away from my front door, they're surprisingly harsh and bad weather is no stranger making it perfect for a photo shoot. Being light and small, the monocular fits right in with the daily Iceland kit providing an easy method of scouting the natural features of a landscape or a closer look at wildlife.

Location No. 1 took us to Heidmork, one of the few forests in Iceland that brushes the fringe of Reykjavik and has an interesting network of gravel and dirt trails perfect for the bike. Shooting someone riding a bike is actually harder than it seems, since movement is limited and you need to get more creative with camera angles, fisheye lenses, a slow shutter, etc. to make the work interesting. It's a good challenge for a creative, sometimes restrictive conditions are what fosters a new perspective and approach. Fortunately with a good team, collaboration was easy and we focused on showing the reality of exploring the trail network of Heidmork and how the monocular is a good companion for these outings.

Next stop — the Reykjanes Peninsula. It's right next to the airport and an inescapable part of visiting Iceland for anyone that arrives via plane. What many fail to discover is that there is a formidable amount of raw, wild coastline there and many, many miles of exploring that makes for riding on the fatbike. I come out here to be alone and clear my head, often sharing company with the occasional seagull and the whisper (or shout) of the Icelandic wind. Solitude in nature is important to decompress from the stresses of life and running a business and I think it's important to create visual material that hopefully inspires others to find their own version of escape. As many of us know and appreciate, it's therapeutic to stare at the movement of the ocean and the point where the sky meets the water line. There's a certain curiosity there of what lies beyond that I think we can all agree we've felt. This time, I had a radio on my bike alongside the monocular — receiving instructions from Jordan and Joel about the right place to ride or the right position to pose for the image… normal photoshoot things.

We wrapped up the whole project with a final day in the studio — testing out some creative backgrounds swapping different pieces of gear in frame to give the context of expedition use alongside the optics. Studio shoot days can seem boring in comparison to a day outdoors, but I actually enjoy the challenge of shooting inside and finding an interesting way to present a product or concept… This was no exception. With the shoot finished, we said our goodbyes and Jordan jumped on a plane back to California, ready to dive into the editing phase before ultimately sharing with the NOCS team. It's important to not underestimate the power of small excursions and what might appear to be insignificant moments plucked out of daily life. The grandeur of expeditions is often visually compelling with a sense of awe present, but I find the raw, daily experience of living to be a bit more relatable and just as stunning to shoot with flair and creativity.

Location No. 1 took us to Heidmork, one of the few forests in Iceland that brushes the fringe of Reykjavik and has an interesting network of gravel and dirt trails perfect for the bike. Shooting someone riding a bike is actually harder than it seems, since movement is limited and you need to get more creative with camera angles, fisheye lenses, a slow shutter, etc. to make the work interesting. It's a good challenge for a creative, sometimes restrictive conditions are what fosters a new perspective and approach. Fortunately with a good team, collaboration was easy and we focused on showing the reality of exploring the trail network of Heidmork and how the monocular is a good companion for these outings.

Next stop — the Reykjanes Peninsula. It's right next to the airport and an inescapable part of visiting Iceland for anyone that arrives via plane. What many fail to discover is that there is a formidable amount of raw, wild coastline there and many, many miles of exploring that makes for riding on the fatbike. I come out here to be alone and clear my head, often sharing company with the occasional seagull and the whisper (or shout) of the Icelandic wind. Solitude in nature is important to decompress from the stresses of life and running a business and I think it's important to create visual material that hopefully inspires others to find their own version of escape. As many of us know and appreciate, it's therapeutic to stare at the movement of the ocean and the point where the sky meets the water line. There's a certain curiosity there of what lies beyond that I think we can all agree we've felt. This time, I had a radio on my bike alongside the monocular — receiving instructions from Jordan and Joel about the right place to ride or the right position to pose for the image… normal photoshoot things.