Tag: national park

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Grand Teton National Park – The Wildlife

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
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
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
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
The setting sun illuminates a bison grazing in a Grand Teton grassland

Elk

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
A male elk struts through a field in early morning, with a fall color backdrop, Grand Teton National Park

Birds

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
A canada goose swims through glassy water, reflecting it and the fall colors of Grand Teton National Park

Moose

A moose cow eats greens from a shallow pond, the water running from her face when she emerges with food
A moose cow eats greens from a shallow pond, the water running from her face when she emerges with food

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
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
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
A moose cow eat greens from the bottom of a shallow pond, while surrounded by the fall colors of Grand Teton National Park

I swapped between my 100-400mm lens and my 800mm. At times the moose came so close that I was only able to get her nose and mouth in frame!

A moose cow eats greens from a shallow pond, the water running from her face when she emerges with food
A moose cow eats greens from a shallow pond, the water running from her face when she emerges with food

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 young bull moose lifts his head to make his presence known to females

Pronghorn Antelope

A pronghorn mother watches over her fawn. Fawns are very vulnerable when they are young, and spend most of their time beddings down and staying out of sight.
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
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.
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.

Stay tuned for more from the Grand Tetons. I had a fantastic time exploring a new landscape!

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Lake Vernon Loop

The spray from Wapama Falls creates a rainbow as it rushes into the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, Yosemite National Park
The spray from Wapama Falls creates a rainbow as it rushes into the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, Yosemite National Park

Recently a friend and I headed up to Yosemite for an early season 4-day backpacking trip. It was a good excuse to loosen up the joints for the summer and get out in the Sierra backcountry. We chose the area around Lake Vernon as sort of a staging point from which to launch an off-trail loop into some of the less explored drainages. Supposedly, this area was relatively snow-free compared to other areas at similar elevation (7,000 – 9,000 ft).

We decided to hike up out of Hetch Hetchy due to the easy access. Because permits are issued at the entrance gate, you can get a wilderness permit the night before as late as 9pm. That is a huge help for those driving up after work from the Bay Area. We got there Friday night, got our permit, and settled in at the backpacker’s campground overlooking O’Shaughnessy Dam. We were up at 5:30 the next morning, and hit the trail by 7am. We had a very long day of hiking and lots of climbing, so we needed the early start.

The uneventful hike along the edge of Hetch Hetchy reservoir was punctuated only by the raging waters of Wapama Falls (see photo above). A couple of weeks earlier, the flow from the fast snow melt was so great that park rangers closed the bridges across the falls and shuttled people by boat around the dangerous spots. I was happy that we timed it such that it was a easy walk through the water spray.

We reached Rancheria Falls by 9:30 and began our long climb up out of the lower elevations of Hetch Hetchy. After a long day of absolutely nowhere to camp (not that we were ready to stop anyway), we reached our destination of Lake Vernon. It ended up being a 16 mile day with 4800 ft of elevation gain. Not surprisingly, we were pretty worn out for a first day of the season! With little time to scout before it was fully dark, I set my alarm to wake up before sunrise and do some quick scouting for shots along the shoreline.

Twisted trunks of trees are reflecting in Lake Vernon are silhouetted against the pre-dawn light, Yosemite National Park
Twisted trunks of trees are reflecting in Lake Vernon are silhouetted against the pre-dawn light, Yosemite National Park

One of the features of the lake that struck me was that all along the shoreline, trees were growing directly out of the water. I’m guessing that the Lake was at peak capacity and was flooding the base of the trees, but it definitely made for an interesting silhouette abstract. The sun soon rose into a cloudless sky, and we were quickly packed up and ready to hit the trail once again.

Above Lake Vernon, we hit quite a few places where the trail was under one to two feet of water. Large patches of snow began appearing amongst the trees. As we climbed higher, we began to worry about our original plan of climbing off trail to 9,000 feet and from there, exploring some of the ridge lines. As we got closer to our destination, we could see the ridges were still full of snow. With no choice but to change our plans, we camped up above Lake Wilma on some flat granite slabs next to a quiet cascade.

Water cascades down flat, open granite above Wilma Lake, Yosemite National Park
Water cascades down flat, open granite above Wilma Lake, Yosemite National Park

The next morning we decided that the best course of action was to more or less retrace our steps back to Lake Vernon, as we were pretty worn out from trudging through flooded meadows and snow drifts. At least this day would be mostly downhill (only 1500 ft of elevation gain), as the previous two days combined were close to 8,000 ft of gain. Walking downhill most of the day allowed us to enjoy the beauty of Falls Creek, which the trail followed most of the day.

We set up camp in the same spot along Lake Vernon that we had used two nights earlier. A bonus was getting to use the rest of the firewood we had already gathered! The next morning was quiet and beautiful. The surface of the lake had settled into a mirror, reflecting everything along the shore with perfection.

A large pine grows out of a pile of granite boulders along the shore of Lake Vernon, Yosemite National Park
A large pine grows out of a pile of granite boulders along the shore of Lake Vernon, Yosemite National Park

After enjoying a leisurely morning at the lake, we didn’t hit the trail until 9:30, our latest start yet. That was okay, because we had only an 11 mile hike out to the car, downhill almost the entire way. We left the lake opposite our entry point, creating a loop from Hetch Hetchy to Lake Vernon. We made quick time, blasting out of there in 4 1/2 hours. The most scenic part of the last day was descending the old construction road from Beehive Meadows. This was a road built to service the building of the dam, which has been converted into a hiking trail. A few chunks of asphalt were still seen here and there, but for the most part, mother nature had wiped out this road long ago with severe freeze/thaw cycles and many rock slides. Although the exposed decent was hot and hard on the joints, it did offer some stunning views of the reservoir.

Lupine blooms adorn the hillsides surrounding the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, Yosemite National Park
Lupine blooms adorn the hillsides surrounding the Hetch Hetchy Reservoir, Yosemite National Park

As I was reaching the waterline, I couldn’t help but try to visualize what this valley would look like in its original condition, before the dam was built. I couldn’t help but feel a touch of remorse as I imagined John Muir shaking his head in disgust.

We reached the car by 2pm and began the drive home. It was a great first trip of the season, clocking in at 3 1/2 days of hiking, just over 50 miles covered, and over 10,000 ft of elevation gained. If this was a warmup trip, what’s the next trip going to be like?

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Eye Of Stone

Petrified sandstone forms in layers of design along the walls of Mosaic Canyon, Death Valley National Park
Petrified sandstone forms in layers of design along the walls of Mosaic Canyon, Death Valley National Park

This week’s photos are late-comers to the blog from my recent Death Valley trip. They are sandstone detail shots taken near the mouth of Mosaic Canyon, shot mid-day under a partially cloudy sky. The patterns of the canyon were really wild – these are just a sampling of the swirling colors and carved shapes.

In order to get the colors of the sandstone to really show, I needed full shade – here direct sunlight was not my friend. I would have preferred a cloudier day, but one must work with what they are given. As it was, I was forced to shoot only the side of the canyon that was in shade, and that shade was disappearing by the minute as the sun moved directly over the canyon opening. As the sun crept up the wall that I was shooting, I began to wish for a large shade (and an assistant to hold it too!)

Petrified Sandstone ripples in layers along the wall of Mosaic Canyon, Death Valley National Park
Petrified Sandstone ripples in layers along the wall of Mosaic Canyon, Death Valley National Park
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Sunrise Over The Salt Pan

The rising sun creeps toward the eastern horizon as the dried flats of Salt Creek sit in shadow, Death Valley National Park
The rising sun creeps toward the eastern horizon as the dried flats of Salt Creek sit in shadow, Death Valley National Park

On the final morning of the recent Death Valley Dykinga workshop, we headed to the Salt Creek area in the heart of the park. This year it was dry as a bone, the water evaporating off the salt to form geometric shapes in the salt crust. This morning we only had clouds to the east, so I knew my first opportunity would be sunlit clouds in that direction, as the sun was still well behind the eastern mountains. Walking west from the road, I moved out into the salt pan far enough so that when I looked back to the east, the road was indistinguishable from the mountains. I knew that with my selected exposure, any cars (and other photographers!) would disappear into shadowed insignificance.

With the sun fast approaching, I hunted for the perfect foreground. This can be tricky to see with the naked eye – I can find my compositions better by looking through my viewfinder with the camera off-tripod. Once I see the composition I like, I set up the tripod in that spot. Then it is a matter of fine tuning up or down, left or right until the edges of the frame are just right. For the shot above, I decided not to go too wide because I wanted to fill the top of the frame with the meager clouds.

Instead of using a graduated ND filter, I took two shots – one exposed for the foreground and one for the sky. I knew I’d have more blending latitude on the computer later. I know many photographers who frown on this practice. They preach “getting it right” in the field. I consider that a noble pursuit, but I see my method as more future-proof. As my blending technique improves over time, I can always go back to my originals and recreate a better blend.

Sunlight moves down the mountains to the west of Salt Creek, now a dried salt flat, Death Valley National Park
Sunlight moves down the mountains to the west of Salt Creek, now a dried salt flat, Death Valley National Park

As soon as I was finished with my first shot, I looked west and started pre-visualizing my second desired shot for the morning. This is when I really started getting excited. When the sun rose behind me, it would first strike the top of the western mountains and then start moving down, painting them red and orange (due to the mountains reflecting only the longer wavelengths of light as it traveled through the atmosphere). The whole time, the salt pan would still be in shadow, the pure white salt reflecting cool blue tones. One of my favorite things to do with photography is find places in nature that combine hot and cold tones together. Here was a great opportunity!

There was only one problem. Directly in front of me was a huge patch of dark mud, disrupting the disappearing patterns of the salt pan. I needed to move to the south of the mud field so I had uninterrupted salt pans fading to the base of the mountains. With little time to spare, I mounted my camera on my chest harness, picked up my tripod and ran to the south as fast as I could. As I got farther from the mud field, the ridges of the salt pan grew more shallow, which added a delicate feeling to the salt.

I found my composition, went ultra wide to accentuate the enormity of the salt pan, and waited. The sun had risen behind me and was already touching the highest peaks to the west. As the sun moved down the mountains, I took several safety shots, but I knew that I wanted as much of those mountains in red as possible. Soon the clouds to the east began brushing the mountain tops with light shadow patterns, and I knew this was the moment. Click.

I spent the rest of the morning experimenting with different lenses and techniques, unconcerned about getting anything else of substance that morning. I was pretty happy with my haul.

Copyright 2017 Hank Christensen