Let me tell you, Stan McCrary is a hero. He'd come to Oakland for a day or so of photography with me. I met him at his motel before dawn on one of the coldest nights Oakland has had in years. Winter, which we're not supposed to have in this part of California, had arrived. The sky was spitting snowflakes. In the hills, there were patches of ice on the road.

We drove over to Hayward, where I'd found this very special hill—a wonderful, grass-covered hillside that made a great background. What's unusual about it is that for about 45 minutes after the sun has begun rising the hillside remains in shade. On a clear day, a beautiful blue light comes bouncing down from the sky, which then reflects off a bodybuilder's oiled muscles.

If the temperature had been 30 degrees in Oakland, it must have been 25 in Hayward. We arrived at the hillside. Stan got out of the car, took off his sweatsuit, oiled up, and waded out onto the frozen grass. How warm can you be in a situation like that wearing just a pair of posing trunks? Yet Stan struck pose after pose, smiling—and even joking—all the time.