Stature. I’ve taken so many photos of Crown Mountain over the past few years, yet very few have really captured just how imposing a mountain it is. This one comes close but I cropped in too close for it to fit into the stupid Instagram format. The full size version is on Flickr.

Given its impressive, jagged profile and the fact that we have a clear view from our balcony, Crown Mountain must be the most-photographed mountain in our photo collection. A quick check on Flickr shows that we have 79 photos tagged with “Crown Mountain”, which includes photos we took on Crown itself and those taken from neighbouring mountains. (Mts Garibaldi and Baker also feature highly in our photo stream.) Not bad. For the most part, the photos I’ve taken over the years have been what you could call “pretty mountain” photos – in other words, a scene that has intrinsic appeal but remains a bit abstract or detached from reality.

Now, I’ve come to realize that it’s hard to capture the scale of any mountain really, as you need something human-scale in the frame as well. People work well, but failing that buildings. And it helps to use a telephoto lens to compress the horizontal distance and make the comparison more immediate. These are aspects of photography that I already knew, and yet for some reason had never really put them into action, at least not until the other day down at Locarno Beach. It may have taken me a few years, but I’ve finally got a photo of Crown that does a passable job at capturing its stature.

A passing encounter with ransomware

It all began with the most innocuous of actions: a click. One of those many articles on Facebook that pops up in the “Related stories” area when you “like” an article. Next thing we had a web page showing all manner of error codes along with advice on how to fix the “problem” that had been detected, pop-up dialogs galore and the computer began beeping, like the alarm system on a science-fiction spaceship. It was almost comical.

Until I realized what was happening.

Then I had the “Oh shit – ransomware” moment, and lunged for the power button. (In retrospect I should have just tried to shut down the web browser from the task manager but I didn’t want to delay shutting down the computer if it was about to start encrypting our hard drives.)

That done, I thought for a moment, trying to assess the damage in the worst case that the hard drives had been encrypted. We figured that we might lose the past two weeks of photos and any edits. That wasn’t too much of an issue, really as we hadn’t cleared the memory cards in our cameras for over a month. We would probably lose a few recent PDFs and text files – annoying but not disastrous.

Having weighed up the situation, I retrieved some cables for reading bare hard drives and then set about dismantling the computer. First I detached the external hard drive used for continuous backup of a few folders (more on that later). Then I opened the case and removed the 3-TB main hard drive that contains all our photos and documents.

I booted up the Linux box and plugged in the external backup drive. It mounted just fine and I could read the files on there – at least as much as you can read the files in a CrashPlan backup. There was no sign of any recent modifications to the file system, so I figured that if something had started the encryption process, it hadn’t got to that drive yet (after all, it was down the list at F:).

I breathed a sigh of relief: it looked like we’d actually have up-to-date copies of our documents. Yay!

Next step was to attach the 3-TB drive. That’s when my heart started to sink. It mounted as an empty volume. No partitions, nothing. Wait, that’s not quite true. In actual fact it didn’t even mount – it just showed up as empty in the disk utility. Oh crap. Was that it? Had we actually lost the contents of that drive? I didn’t dare hope it was just some quirk.

Unplugging that drive, I moved on to the main system drive. Plugging that in was immediately more hopeful: a partition called “System Restore” mounted, and then I got an error message saying that the main partition couldn’t be mounted because Windows had been put in hibernate mode. Another light bulb moment, this time a positive one – I think – as I remembered I’d configured the power switch to hibernate rather than power off. OK, so the drive had gone into hibernation correctly. I mounted it read-only and lo-and-behold I was in business.

Poking around on the C: drive it appeared that everything was in order. I couldn’t find any nefarious-looking files (not that I really knew what to look for) with the right timestamp. So I decided to make a local backup, just in case. I used the tried-and-tested rsync to make a copy on one of the drives in the Linux box, which gave me time to do a bit of research about ransomware…

What I found gave me hope. It seemed that a couple of the most common types were in fact browser-based and weren’t real ransomware at all. I looked at screenshots to compare with the picture in my memory from the brief glimpse I took before hitting the power button, and decided that – if I was lucky – we’d most likely been hit with the TechBrolo.C Trojan installer. Furthermore, Windows Defender seemed to know about them and could remove them.

Progress of sorts, then. Once my local backup was done, I decided it was time to test those ideas, and got back down on my hands and knees to reattach the hard drives. Leaving the network cable unplugged, I tentatively hit the power switch. I was soon looking at a normal login screen – very promising, which told me we hadn’t been hit by real hard-drive-encrypting ransomware. I logged in and waited. Everything looked fine. I checked the 3 TB drive and was relieved to see that all our files were still there. I started up ACDSee to browse some photos just to be sure. All looked OK. Phew!

I restarted Firefox – which of course tried to load all the previously-open tabs. At least this time I was able to kill the tab with the offending payload, and looked through the history to see what website had spawned it. I copied the URL and deleted the entry from the history. I won’t give the URL as I would hate for someone else to click on it, but the site is in the .ml top-level domain (which is Mali, where Timbuktu is located).

Everything still looked fine, so I started up Windows Defender and set it to run a full scan. However, not long after it got under way, a warning sign did show up saying that a potential malicious file had been discovered.

When the scan ended (two-and-a-half hours later), the report did indeed show a single potential threat: the TechBrolo.E trojan, hiding in our Firefox cache. I clicked “Remove” and within moments it was gone. I re-ran a quick scan just to double check and it came back clean. Yay! I plugged in the network cable, started the task manager and waited. Nothing was happening: just an idle computer. Next up was Firefox again, and it too wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary.

Now, remember that backup I did on my Linux box? Well, that included the Firefox cache, so I went in and had a look. Sure enough the file was a gzipped Javascript file with some stern warnings and more newlines than I’ve ever seen in my life! It looks like it tries to load a PHP file with an insane name, which I’m guessing is where the main payload is.

I wonder if the Javascript downloaded is country-dependent? I mean, showing a ransomware web page with a 1-8XX number won’t get you very far outside the US and Canada.

And so there I was a few hours later, and all was as well as it could be.

At the end of the day, all I can say is I’m glad I had that Linux computer, both as a second (and more importantly non-Windows) computer and as a backup for all the files we care about, as well as having the right cables to connect hard drives to a USB port. I’m also glad that I could shrug and say that at worst, we’d have lost only a couple of weeks’ documents and photos.

My take away from this? Have a backup of all the files you care about. And make sure that backup runs as often as you need it to. Every day, if necessary, though weekly is probably good enough. And watch what you click on…!