For my second post from my recent trip to Grand Teton National Park, I’ll focus on what I had considered the main attraction before the trip – the mountains. What was not expected however was being greeted by thick smoke from several nearby forest fires. On my first day in the park, the mountains were obscured by a dull gray haze that was so thick, you could barely make out the outline of the peaks.
Storm clouds drift high above the Tetons, Grand Teton National Park
Luckily however, some wet weather and (better yet) wind came through the valley, and helped clear things up a bit. In fact, I was excited to see the wet weather move in not just to help in clearing out the smoke, but because storms (and the clouds they bring) really help create drama. One of the worst things a landscape photographer can see in the forecast is clear blue skies.
I managed to visit all of the famous views of the Tetons while I was there. Though I usually shy away from such places, any self-respecting photographer should have these shots in his portfolio. After all, there is a reason they have become famous views!
The Tetons are reflected in the Snake River at Schwabacher’s Landing, Grand Teton National Park
Even with the wind and weather moving through, we had several very foggy mornings. It was nice to see the smoke dissipating (fog generally looks “cleaner” than smoke), but at times the thick fog obscured both the view and the sun rising behind us. However, as the old saying goes, work with what ya got, and on one morning, I was able to use the fog to my advantage, adding a layer of separation to an otherwise straight forward sunrise shot.
A fog bank moves in front of the Grand Tetons as the rising sun illuminates the sheer peaks, Grand Teton National Park
Probably the most iconic spot in the park is Oxbow Bend, where the Snake River pools into a large area, allowing for still water and insane reflections. I was there on two mornings, and both times I didn’t even stop the car. The first attempt saw that familiar smoky haze, and in the second we were greeted by dense fog. And yet both times there were close to 100 photographers lined up waiting for sunrise. To this day I still don’t know what they expected to shoot in that weather, but I guess you have to respect their commitment? Meanwhile I was off to better spots for that weather.
Eventually I did get to photograph Oxbow Bend, this time around 10 in the morning. Usually I’m done for the morning by this time, but the fog was just starting the clear out. Luckily the trees along the shoreline were blazing with yellow, which juxtaposed the late morning blue of the mountains beyond. Some day I’ll have to make it back here for sunrise – I’ll be sure to sharpen my elbows first.
The fall colors of Aspen contrast the blue hues of the Tetons, Grand Teton National Park
As amazing as the Tetons were to see in person, I began to realize by the mid point in my trip that the real stars of the show (beyond the numerous wildlife) were the fall colors and the trees that wore them. But that will have to remain for another post….
A few weeks ago, I attended a landscape workshop with Jack Dykinga, co-lead by my friend Jerry Dodrill. I was able to arrive early, and spent several days before the landscape work began to check out the local wildlife.
It was a good time to shoot wildlife, because there was quite a bit of smoke in the valley from nearby forest fires, and the famous views of the mountains were more or less obscured. I was happy to quickly find many of my target species, including bison, moose, elk, and even antelope toward the end of my trip. I’m still processing many landscapes from the trip, so they’ll be coming soon. For now, enjoy some of the local fauna that I encountered during my six days in the park.
Bison
Bison graze in the grasslands of Grand Teton National Park
Several herds of bison could be found fairly easily. I had two extended photo sessions with two different herds, and by the end of my trip, I was driving past bison along the road without a second glance. However commonplace these animals can become over just a few days, up close and personal they are amazing beasts.
A bison shows his appreciation for the nutritious grass available for grazing in Grand Teton National Park
Their antics were framed by the beautiful fall colors that adorned their world. As I was watching one herd, one by one bison would drop to the ground and start to roll in the dirt, kicking up huge clouds of dust.
Bison kick up dust as they roll in the dirt, while others graze in the open grassland of Grand Teton National Park
The sun finally peaked through the smoke and haze, and lit up the field in which they were grazing. I had to make sure to keep one eye on the viewfinder and one on the herd. I knew how fast they could charge if they so desired, so I stayed close to the truck at all times!
The setting sun illuminates a bison grazing in a Grand Teton grassland
Elk were seen only in the early morning hours, when it was still very dark out for wildlife photography. In most cases, I just left my camera beside me and enjoyed the company of these graceful animals. One morning I found a buck out late, and was able to get a photo. He was swimming across a small river, and by the time I got out of the truck, we was out of the water and sauntering across a field.
A male elk struts through a field in early morning, with a fall color backdrop, Grand Teton National Park
There were quite a few birds around that I don’t typically get to photograph, but to be honest, I was keeping myself very busy with landscapes and the larger mammals, so I didn’t spend any time focusing on avian photography.
While photographing oxbow bend late in the morning (sunrise saw that area completely shrouded in fog), I saw several Canada geese swimming along the shore under a beautiful grove of aspen, all in their autumn finery. I knew if I could get at the right angle close enough to one of the birds, I might get a shot of it swimming through a sea of abstracted fall color reflection.
I dropped off my landscape gear and went for my big lens. After about 20 minutes of waiting, one of them finally swam through the best color on the river, and I was ready.
A canada goose swims through glassy water, reflecting it and the fall colors of Grand Teton National Park
One of my most anticipated target species was moose. I had only ever seen one from a distance, and had never photographed one before. I was not disappointed by this trip! I was able to photograph moose on three occasions, some at very close range.
A young bull moose stands at attention as me makes his way through an open field
On one such occasion, I saw a bull walking across a field parallel to a small side road. I pulled over and set up my tripod. Then the moose turned in my direction, and walked directly toward me, ultimately crossing the road I was on about twenty yards away. As he was crossing the road, he stopped and posed for me, giving me the photo below:
A young bull moose walks through tall grass, pausing to check his surroundings
I was ready to pay him a modeling fee, but he continued on before I could get my checkbook.
Another time I spent some time with a cow and her calf, this time with about 30 other photographers. The calf quickly disappeared behind some trees, but the mother stayed out in the open.
A moose cow eat greens from the bottom of a shallow pond, while surrounded by the fall colors of Grand Teton National Park
It was also rutting season, and I saw a young bull performing an interesting display. He stopped eating the branches in front of him, extended his neck and bared his teeth. I’m not sure if this display was meant for courtship (there was a female nearby), but I snapped away all the same.
A young bull moose lifts his head to make his presence known to females
A pronghorn mother watches over her fawn. Fawns are very vulnerable when they are young, and spend most of their time bedding down and staying out of sight.
Lastly, I finally found a herd of pronghorn on my last morning in the park. Amongst the small herd was a doe with a fawn, sticking very close to each other. At one point, the fawn bedded down next to its mother, hiding itself in the grass. A few minutes later however, it popped up when some inconsiderate tourists started traipsing across the field, ignoring the many signs posted throughout the park that told them not to approach any wildlife.
A pronghorn mother stands with her fawn, Grand Tetons National Park
Further down the road was a solitary buck foraging along a small rise. He was kind enough to pose just long enough at the ridge line to allow the photograph below.
A pronghorn buck stands at attention on a small rise. The pronghorn horn sheath is shed annually and made of compressed hair around a bone core.
One of my favorite local passerines is the chestnut-backed chickadee. It is common enough to be seen semi-regularly, but just rare enough for those sightings to be special. Here is a photo I took last November, as the leaves were turning color on the trees. I love how the chickadee’s colors compliment the fall colors of nature.
Another reason that I enjoy chickadee sightings is that I always think of them as “bonus” birds. I never set out to specifically find one of these guys (if I did so, I’d probably be searching for days). Usually I’ll go looking for a different target species (be it a shorebird rarity, newly hatched chicks, etc) and only after I successfully (or unsuccessfully) photograph my target do I look around to see who else is present. And that’s when a chickadee might show up.
The biggest challenges in photographing birds like this are their size and speed. They are a relatively small bird. When working with a large lens (as I normally do for birds), that means working at or less than the lens’s minimum focusing distance. That also means that finding your subject at that magnification is like finding a needle in a haystack! And the speed? The only time this bird sits still is when it stops to sing. Otherwise it is flitting from branch to branch – very hard to track with a long lens. Here patience and practice (and some times a little luck) pay off.
For me, learning happens in spurts. Call it a growth spurt of the mind. Over the last few weeks I have been spending many hours learning advanced Photoshop techniques to help me process my photos. This gives me better tools to recreate exactly what I saw, and the mood I felt when I took the photograph.
Now, I’m no slouch when it comes to Photoshop, but that application is so deep and allows for so much creativity, there is always more to learn. Once you’ve become expert in all the individual tools Photoshop has to offer, combining them to work for you becomes a life-long practice.
Needing to try out some of the new techniques I was exploring (detailed selections, channel masking, blending modes, etc), I decided to reprocess the photo above, which I took two years ago in Eagle Cap Wilderness. I always loved the photo, but never felt that I achieved that sense of awe that I experienced hiking down East Eagle Creek canyon. My latest reworking of the photo is above – here is the result of my original processing two years ago:
Painted cliffs descend to a mixture of fir and pine along East Eagle Creek, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon
One of the things that I love about digital is that as time goes on, the experience I gain not only impacts my photographs going forward, but can have a positive impact on old photos as well. It can also be seen as a curse – that feeling that you’re never really finished working on a photograph. But I’d rather see my work (even old work) improve over time, and I’m more than willing to put in the time to make that happen.
