A Tale of Two Lenses

Yesterday, I finally got motivated to address the problem I've been having with one of my lenses. Whenever I attach it to my camera and turn the camera on or off, it makes a terrible grinding sound before the autofocus mechanism finally catches. The terrible noise lasts for about 3 awful seconds every time the power switch is moved.

It was never a great lens, but it served its purpose. The lens is a 70 mm - 300 mm, and I paid $200.00 for it. I knew it was never meant to be of the highest quality, and that was why I dealt with its slow, often inaccurate autofocus.

Even though it still was able to ultimately focus (and once the grinding sound had finished I could set it to manual focus, if I so chose), the time had come to see about repairs. I knew that I'd be paying for it this time.

"This time?" you ask? Yes. This has happened before. The problem had occurred once before when the lens was still under warranty. That was no big deal, though. It just meant I was without my zoom lens for about a month last year.

Another thing that was brought to my attention this time, was the root cause of the problem. It was an alpha mount range doubler that I bought online for $60. I absolutely knew that it was going to be crap as far as build quality and materials (I think the brand name is Phoenix), but I never thought it could basically 'infect' other lenses with any kind of trouble. This time I saw the pattern.

The problem began immediately after I used the range doubler. It came into my mind that this was the same order of events that had brought the problem to grinding life the first time with that lens, and the same for my 18 mm - 70 mm kit lens. Yes, it happened to that one, too. The smaller lens was out of its warranty proper, but was still covered by the City Advantage protection plan (care to guess what place no longer exists and where I bought my camera from?). In any event, my extended plan was honored, and the problem with that lens was cured once I sent my lens and camera body (eek!) to wherever it was I sent it for repairs.

The important thing here is that I realized the culprit, and that I wanted my lens fixed. With that in mind, I stocked my bag with all the problem parts, and headed to a local camera store.

I got the attention of a person behind the counter and asked about lens repair. She said that they didn't do it in house, but they could send the lens out for me. This piqued my interest, so I explained the problem and began a demonstration.

Now, an aside. To call myself an amateur photographer is probably an overstatement. I know enough to compose and produce decent images, but there is a whole lot on the matter that I just don't know. Technical knowledge, best practices, special effects--you name it, I probably don't know it. I would definitely make the statement that I know more about photography than the average person, but not more than the average photographer. All of this being said, I feel that I have managed to compose some pretty stellar images (some of them were even of actual stars! ...true statement, but also a joke). So, hopefully some of the weight that this next part carries will come across a little more forcefully now.

The woman tried to see what kind of lens it was that I was using. I suggested Tamron, because that was the brand I had bought for my first film camera. Nope, this was a Sigma.

She looked at me, eyes dripping (metaphorically) with horror and disgust. "Oh, we don't do anything with this brand," she said. The look of utter disdain for my chosen equipment was memorable in one of the worse possible ways. It looked as though I were being held in contempt for the simple act of using inferior contempt.

Don't get me wrong, I hold no ill will toward the woman who helped me. She was awesome. It was just a funny moment to be there for, almost like a master craftsmen shooing away a potential apprentice for only being able to afford an inferior hammer or saw.

As we continued to discuss the matter, she said that they did have the name of someone local who did lens repair. I thought about it for a moment, and asked about current prices on more name-brand fare.

She stood across the counter from me, checking the computer for inventory as I looked around the store. There was a Sony for about 800. There was a lower-end Sony for 250. Then she made a sound like, "huh." The sound implied she was seeing something that she didn't quite believe. "I wonder why that's so... inexpensive." She had chosen the word carefully.

"We have a used Minolta in the computer for $60. Let me make sure we actually have it, though."

Shocked at the prospect, I stood and waited patiently for her return.

She had already given me the local repairman's card, and now she brought the lens out. I knew that I had only paid two hundred for my lens, and I figured that it would probably be from fifty to one hundred for the lens repair, so it became an instant no-brainer to purchase this used, name-brand piece of equipment.

The minimum focal distance is about 5 feet, which isn't quite as good as the Sigma's 3 or so, but overall I'm pretty pleased with my... I guess I can call it an impulse buy, as I wasn't planning on buying it, but I feel that fortune smiled upon me with that little find.