Farewell to a Classic: My Last Trip With The M9
The Digital Camera That Felt Like Film
The Leica M9—a digital camera from 2009 with a legacy that still lingers. It’s known for being one of the closest digital experiences to shooting film, and that’s exactly what drew me to it in the first place.
Over the years, I found myself transitioning toward “less digital” cameras. You know the kind—dedicated shutter speed dials, aperture rings on the lens, and as few menus as possible. That transition started with waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat after having a dream of forever getting lost in endless submenus. The next morning, I scoped the internet for a Fuji X100V—and from there, it was a natural step toward the Leica M9.
The M9 is a camera built for serious photographers. It strips away the fluff and leaves you with what matters: a beautiful sensor, full manual control, and a rangefinder experience that keeps your focus on the image, not on the screen.
For the past several years, the M9 has been my main digital camera. It’s come with me everywhere—from everyday walks around town to longer trips across the country. It’s been the camera I’ve reached for when I wanted reliability, simplicity, and images I could be proud of. And in that time, it hasn’t let me down. I’ve built a real connection with this thing—it’s not just a tool, it’s been a companion.
But recently, my creative direction has started to shift. I’ve found myself leaning more into film, drawn to its pace and process. So after a lot of thought, and some back-and-forth internal debates, I decided it was time to let the M9 go. That wasn’t a decision I made lightly. Before I listed it, I knew I needed one last outing—a final trip to take it out into the world and use it the way I always have. Something to say goodbye properly.
So I packed it up and headed to Arkansas with some friends.
What Made The M9 So Special
If you’re not familiar with the Leica M9, here’s a bit of background to get you up to speed.
Leica first dipped their toes into the digital world back in 2006 with the release of the M8. But rather than jumping into the same race as other camera manufacturers—stuffing their bodies with screens, dials, and buttons—Leica took a different route. True to their roots, they built a digital rangefinder. Their goal was simple: make a camera that looked, felt, and functioned like their iconic film cameras. And with the M8, that meant classic mechanical M-mount lenses, a clean and minimal design, a bright rangefinder, and very little to distract from the act of taking a photo.
But Leica wasn’t just aiming for film feel—they wanted film look, too. So they partnered with Kodak to develop a sensor that would echo the color and character of their most beloved emulsions. And in many ways, they nailed it.
That said, the M8 wasn’t perfect. Some even considered it a proof of concept—a way for Leica to test the waters of digital photography. It featured a cropped 10.3MP sensor, which delivered beautiful results but fell short of what many considered “professional grade” for the price point and pedigree.
Then came 2009, and with it, the Leica M9.
This time, Leica refined the concept. They kept the soul of the M8—the rangefinder experience, the optical clarity, the minimalist design—but gave it the full-frame treatment. The M9 boasted an 18-megapixel full-frame CCD sensor made by Kodak, and it was a leap forward in both image quality and tonal depth. The camera quickly gained a reputation for its unique rendering—rich, vibrant color with just the right amount of bite. It wasn’t perfect, but it was unmistakably Leica.
But the M9 wasn’t without its Achilles’ heel.
The original sensors had a major flaw: the protective coating wasn’t corrosion-resistant. Over time, the sensor surface would begin to break down, often manifesting in strange patterns or artifacts in your images, like a permanent jigsaw puzzle laid over the top of the picture. Eventually, Leica acknowledged the issue and offered a sensor replacement program. The updated sensor had the same specs, but this time with a corrosion-resistant layer.
Some die-hard fans claimed the updated sensor didn’t have quite the same character as the original. I personally couldn’t see much of a difference—at least, not enough to justify sensor decay slowly eating my photos. In my view, if the newer version protects your work and your investment, it’s worth the trade.
Fortunately, my M9 came with the upgraded sensor already installed, so I never had to worry about corrosion. That peace of mind alone made the camera a solid, dependable part of my kit.
Final Trip: Arkansas Waterfalls and Farewells
My wife, Hayley, and I were invited by some friends to take a day trip to Arkansas — the plan was simple: a little hiking, a couple of waterfalls, and, of course, a stop for coffee. Naturally, I took it as an excuse to give the Leica M9 one final outing before letting it go.
For this trip, I wanted to keep things light. But that’s one of the perks of the M system: compact, minimal, and built for traveling photographers who still want image quality that punches well above its weight. While the M9 has a solid, weighty feel in the hand (no one’s ever accused it of being a featherweight), its footprint stays small, especially when paired with the right lens.
For this run, I packed only one: the Zeiss 28mm. Over the years, that lens has quietly become my go-to on the M9. It’s lightweight, fast, beautifully sharp, and renders images with that signature Zeiss pop. I look for any excuse to shoot with it (or any Zeiss lens for that matter), and this trip gave me the perfect one. I also kept a yellow filter glued on the front almost the entire day. The yellow filter has become my personal favorite B&W look.
After a long, flat drive through a bunch of nothing and the occasional chicken farm, our first stop was Bella Vista. A short hike brought us to our first waterfall. It was one of those tucked-away Arkansas gems — not towering, but full of character. I took a few frames, and also got a shot of my friend Phillip epicly surveying the waterfall.
But even as I shot, I felt the divide between how I use digital and how I shoot film. This camera is everything I could ask for in a digital setup, but that’s just it. I shoot differently when I know I can review the image. I double-check myself. I second-guess. My “keepers” ratio is just better with film. It’s not the camera. It’s me. With film, I’m more thoughtful, more intentional. I set the exposure, frame the shot, and trust it. And because of that, I’m leaning more and more into the film workflow, not because it’s nostalgic, but because it actually makes me a better photographer.
Later on the trail, we came across a small overlook where a couple stood quietly at the rail. I raised the camera, adjusted my exposure, and took the shot in seconds. That’s the beauty of this system. It’s fast — not in a machine-gun burst kind of way — but in a deliberate, responsive way. The M9 lets you work quickly without losing control. It’s built for that kind of instinctive shooting.
After the hiking, and another waterfall, it was time to refuel. We stopped at Airship, an open-air coffee shop tucked in the woods. This coffee shop was unique and creatively inspiring. The one open wall created a very dynamic environment. Where this is an area most digital sensors struggle, the M9’s dynamic range didn’t miss a beat. Leica and Kodak were cooking with something special when they put this sensor together. It’s part of what made this camera so hard to let go.
Why I’m Moving On
As the day wrapped up and the light began to shift, I found myself turning the M9 over in my hands more than usual. I’ve used this camera for years—it’s been my companion on so many trips, from quiet mornings in abandoned buildings to city walks and spontaneous road trips like this one. It’s a camera that’s never failed me. The build is rock solid, the images it produces are stunning, and the process of using it—manual focus, aperture rings, the quiet click of the shutter—has always felt personal and precise.
But I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the kind of photographer I want to be, and what tools help me get there. The more I shoot film, the more I realize it’s where I want to spend my time. Film forces me to slow down, to think before I shoot, and—oddly enough—I get more keepers with it than I do with digital. There’s a level of intention and clarity that film brings out in me. It’s not a knock on the M9. If anything, it’s a testament to how thoughtful the process of photography should feel—because this camera taught me that in the digital space.
But at the end of the day, I knew I needed to let it go.
I want to use the money from selling the M9 to fund another camera—a film camera that better aligns with the way I want to shoot moving forward. Specifically, I’m looking to invest in a system that pushes me deeper into the film workflow I’ve grown to love. I’ve spent enough time with film now to know it’s not just a passing phase. It’s where I do my best work. It’s where I slow down, think more critically, and feel more connected to the process. I’ve got a particular camera in mind—one that complements the kind of images I want to make, and the way I want to work. Letting go of the M9 isn’t easy, but I know exactly what I’m trading it for: a tool that supports the kind of photographer I’m becoming. And that’s worth it.
Final Thoughts
Parting with a camera isn’t always about what it can or can’t do—it’s about where you’re headed next. The M9 still has everything I could want in a digital rangefinder, but my priorities are shifting. I’ve been leaning more into film, not just for the look, but for the mindset it encourages. And right now, that’s where I want to invest my time and energy.
Selling the M9 isn’t walking away from something great—it’s making space for something new. I’m excited about the direction I’m headed, even if it means letting go of a camera I’ve loved for years. If you’ve shot with an M9, you know how special it is. And if you haven’t, maybe now’s your time—I know one’s about to hit the market.
Until next time—Happy Shooting!
