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October 5, 2010January 14, 2013

Eagle Cap Wilderness Part 3

This is the conclusion of a recent backpacking trip to Oregon’s Eagle Cap Wilderness. If you missed them, check out the first part here and the second part here.

At sunrise, a cloud bank moves up out of the valley to the east of Glacier Lake, catching the first rays of sunlight, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

I emerged from my tent half an hour before dawn on the morning of the fourth day a very cold man. My breath had frozen into ice crystals in the mesh on the inside of my tent and the 25 degree night had pushed my 30 degree sleeping bag beyond its limits. Watching the alpenglow emerge on the cliffs above the lake, I warmed myself by jumping up and down behind my tripod. Just as the sun was hitting the top of the peak, a cloud bank moved up out of the valley to the east, catching the sun’s rays.

The first rays of sunlight greet a backcountry campsite at Glacier Lake, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

The photo above shows our meager, no-fire campsite. Although cold, the entire area was beautiful to behold. With eager anticipation for some warmth, I watched the sun creep down the face of the cliff. The cloud bank continued to move up from the valley to the east, and a new set of much darker, ominous clouds emerged from the valley to the west. Suddenly I began to get nervous about some weather moving in, and we packed our site quickly, skipping breakfast.

Sun peaks over a cloud bank, touching the surface of Glacier Lake, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

As we were getting ready to leave, the sun finally hit the surface of the lake, generating steam rising from the frigid water.

The first rays of sunlight heat the cold waters of Glacier Lake, creating steam, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

The photo above shows the shoreline silhouetted against darkening storm clouds. The rising steam is backlit by the sun. It was definitely time to leave. I felt a little better that we were packed up, because if it started pouring on us, we could at least throw a poncho over us to keep dry. Packing up camp in a downpour on the other hand, was a miserable proposition.

Snow covered cliffs tower above Glacier Lake, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

As we hiked up out of Glacier Lake on our way to Glacier pass, the clouds continued to gather. From a higher elevation, the entire expanse of the lake was visible. The photo above was stitched from five overlapping photos, hand held. When photographing a panorama, the most important thing to keep consistent between images is focus and exposure. Things like white balance can be corrected on the computer later.

The west fork of the Wallowa River drains out of Galcier Lake and winds down the valley to Frazier Lake, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

Closer to the pass, we got a view of the west fork of the Wallowa River draining out of the eastern end of Glacier Lake, and continuing down the valley to Frazier Lake, which we visited the day before. This photo shows how the entire eastern side of Glacier Lake seems to float high above deep valleys on three sides. It was stitched together from nine vertical shots, all hand held. Whenever possible, I shoot panoramas in a vertical format to preserve the top and bottom of the final image. Often times, the warping of photos by the stitching algorithms can reduce the resulting photo to a thin strip. The vertical format helps to counteract the vertical image loss.

Eagle Cap towers over Mirror Lake, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

We descended from Glacier Pass down to Moccasin Lake, and then a short distance to Mirror Lake. Originally I had planned to spend the night at Mirror Lake, but after talking to a ranger the night before, we decided to push through so our last day was not so long. She told us that there were over 60 groups camping at Mirror Lake the night before. Not wanting to hike for four days only to camp right on top of people, it was a no-brainer.

The peak of Eagle Cap is visible for many miles around, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

Past Mirror Lake, we climbed the steep trail to Horton Pass, our exit point of the Lakes Basin management area. Just before the top of the pass is the cutoff trail to the summit of Eagle Cap itself – the omniscient sentry overlooking much of the Lakes Basin. The trail junction offered up-close views of the peak and surrounding area.

At Horton Pass, I thought surely we had seen the highlights of the trip, and we could more or less blast through the descent from the pass to the car. However, Eagle Cap Wilderness had one final surprise in store for us – Eagle Creek Canyon.

False hellebore fills the meadows of Eagle Creek Canyon, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

We left the crowds behind (we didn’t see anyone else until we got close to our car the following day) and started downhill, all of our climbing behind us. As we descended further from the pass, the landscape got more beautiful. False hellebore turning golden and orange contrasted with the greens of the surrounding forest.

The setting sun lights up the cliffs surrounding Eagle Creek Canyon, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

Sharp peaks lined each side of the canyon, while Eagle Creek rushed ahead, gathering size and force with every tributary we passed.

Painted cliffs descend to a mixture of fir and pine along East Eagle Creek, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

Once again, fast moving clouds created an ever-changing light show on the eastern cliffs. We hiked until the sun set behind the western ridge overlooking the canyon. With several hours of daylight left, we had plenty of time to find a picturesque camp site shaded by a ring of trees. Nearby, Eagle Creek could be heard gurgling away.

Wildflowers adorn the meadows of Eagle Creek Canyon, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

The photo above was just outside of the tree ring surrounding our camp site. Wildflowers were everywhere, creating a variegated feast for the eyes. This canyon was as scenic (if not more so) than the Imnaha River Valley we visited earlier in the trip. It was well worth the additional effort of a longer drive and more elevation gain to visit these two rivers, offering more spectacular sights and more solitude than the popular Lakes Basin area.

Wildflowers line the trail through Eagle Creek Canyon, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

The next morning, we were up early and quickly broke camp and got on the trail. While we were anxious to get back to the car (and start our 7 hour drive!) we still lingered here and there to enjoy our surroundings. The beauty and variety of the scenery cemented my decision to come back to this part of Oregon for future trips. There is so much to explore here.

October 4, 2010January 14, 2013

Eagle Cap Wilderness Part 2

This is a continuation of a recent backpacking trip to Oregon’s Eagle Cap Wilderness. If you missed it, check out the first part of the Eagle Cap journey here.

False hellebore thrives along the banks of the Imnaha River with Jackson Peak looming above, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

Our third day on the trail started in one of the most beautiful valleys I have ever seen. The closer we hiked to Hawkins Pass and the headwaters of the Imnaha River, the more spectacular the scenery became. The trail from our river-side camp site all the way to the pass gave us varied views of Jackson Peak to the west.

Looking south down the Imnaha Valley, one can see Jackson Peak and the mountains beyond, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

The bright yellows and oranges of the sun-baked meadows gave way to light and dark bands of green, with gray cliffs towering above. Just below Jackson Peak was a tree-less avalanche field, adding variety to the features of the landscape. Sunlight played through the fast-moving clouds, drawing shadows across the scene. Every moment brought a new mood and a changing picture.

Near its headwaters, the Imnaha River becomes a waterfall, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

Just when I thought we had seen all this valley had to offer, the land rose abruptly, turning the gentle Imnaha River into a beautiful waterfall. A short hike from the trail to the bottom of the falls was well worth the effort.

The headwaters of the Imnaha River start in a large, glacier-carved bowl, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

As the trail climbed in elevation, the valley opened up into a large bowl. Glacial snow melt cascaded down the sheer cliffs in tiny trickles, gathering the bowl to form the headwaters of the Imnaha. Darker gray and brown rock was banded throughout the limestone, forming a colorful tapestry of geological history. In this high mountain air, it was hard to imagine that this limestone was formed from the crushed bones of ancient sea creatures and coral. I tried to picture looking out upon vast coral reefs teaming with fish.

A backpacker pauses to admire the impressive view of Jackson Peak and the Imnaha River Valley, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

The trail continued upward toward Hawkins pass, switch-backing up a steep slope. This offered us expansive views of the valley we had hiked up that morning. Here is my brother once again volunteering to be my backcountry adventure model. I’d like to think he enjoyed the view as much as I enjoyed capturing him in it. This image is truly a kaleidoscope of nature, with oranges, yellows, many shades of green, all fading into the light blue of the distant mountains and sky.

Two backpackers descend the north side of Hawkins Pass. Eagle Cap can be seen peeking over the ridge, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

After a quick break at the top of Hawkins pass, we were ready to descend into the popular Lakes Basin. Here we met our first people of the trip – an indication that we were entering a very popular area. In fact, from this point on, the trail got much busier (that is until we left the Lakes Basin area the following day!) The view from the pass was mostly rocky steep talus slopes. In the photo above, the wilderness’ namesake, Eagle Cap, can be seen peeking over the horizon, in the center-left.

White limestone cliffs tower above Frazier Lake, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

The trail dropped to Frazier Lake, a popular spot to stop for lunch and a quick dip in the water. Once again, white limestone cliffs made an appearance. Here, a trail splits off to Wallowa Lake, following the west fork of the Wallowa River, but we turned left and started climbing again. After a short climb up a narrow valley, we arrived at Glacier Lake, our destination for the night.

Surrounded on two sides by glacier covered cliffs, the water of Glacier Lake turns turquoise in the setting sun, Eagle Cap Wilderness, Oregon

Due to their overuse, at all lakes in the Lakes Basin area, it is against regulations to have a campfire. I don’t know why, but when I’m in these regulated areas, mother nature seems to spite me with some very cold nights. As the sun set over the horizon and the wind picked up, I knew we’d be in for a doozy. Staring across the lake at the glaciers clinging to the slopes of the cliff face, I could see where this lake got its name. In fact, this lake is only ice free for two months of the year. After that long night on the lake, I wasn’t surprised a bit.

To see more, be sure to check out the third part conclusion of this trip.

December 15, 2009October 28, 2021

Competition breeds creativity

Before the digital storm swept through the world of photography, shooting film was an error-prone process for the uninitiated. It took patience and overcoming a steep learning curve to succeed as a professional photographer. If you didn’t learn lessons from past mistakes and quickly correct them, you were soon out of a job. As a result, only those who could consistently produce salable images succeeded, and the number of top-tier professionals was small.

Thanks to the digital photography revolution, the number of photographers that can produce fantastic images has exploded. There are two reasons for this. First, the ability to adjust camera settings on the fly while reviewing the results on the camera’s LCD, coupled with the fact that so many more images are salvageable in post processing has created a more forgiving environment in which to achieve great images. The photographer no longer has to pre-visualize in the same way, and pre-calculate the perfect exposure. Simply reviewing the LCD in the field can help correct and shape the next photograph. Second, the instant feedback of digital makes the learning curve of photography easier to overcome. The learning process becomes more interactive and immediate than when the photographer had to take notes in the field about his camera settings, and then wait until the film was developed before conducting a comprehensive review of his work. This instant feedback has helped to catapult more part time and hobbyists into the professional photography scene.

When I first started dabbling in digital photography, the community was small. Digital photographers were either gadget or photography fanatics (most of us were both). However, as digital photo technology developed quickly, picture quality started to improve, and the results began to be taken more seriously. More photographers converted from film to digital, and even more new photographers entered the fray. So what does mean for professional photographers trying to eke a living in this brave new world?

With advances in hardware and software within cameras themselves, the overall quality of photographs is improving. Cameras are “smarter”, and even snapshots have never looked so good. For photographers, it means that in order to differentiate ourselves, we have to push our creativity to the limit, and execute with technical perfection. No more “almost got it” shots will be acceptable – current camera technology is just too good. Also, the ability to make a living solely on selling stock is now in the past. With the advent of micro-stock (royalty free), and the ease at which digital files can be sent around the world, stock photography consumers are more likely to settle for a lesser photo at MUCH cheaper prices than a well-pollished rights-managed image.

However, it is not all bad news for professionals trying to make a living from photography – there is a silver lining. Photography has never been more popular. With prices coming down and product quality going up, people are snatching up the latest cameras in record numbers. The good news is that because of increased demand, camera manufacturers will continue to invest in research and development of even better technology. That means being able to achieve shots we only dreamed of a decade ago. This provides us more time for creativity, and less emphasis on the technical precision required to operate the camera. Don’t get me wrong – we still need to know our camera gear backwards and forwards. But since many camera operations are now automated, we can spend more time on the creative and artistic aspects of photography to produce the shots that separate us from the pack.

A man raises his arms to the setting sun, Mission Peak, SF Bay Area, CA.

I took the photo above in 1999 with one of my first digital cameras – the Olympus 500L. With a resolution of 1024×768 pixels (ALMOST a 1 megapixel camera), and the fact it could take external media cards (maximum card size was 8 MB), it was revolutionary at the time.

December 15, 2009January 14, 2013

Lakeside Solitude (Photo of the week)

A backpacker sits in the early morning sun, enjoying the peace and quiet of a mountain lake.

This week’s photo was taken on a backpacking trip this summer to one of my favorite lakes. Boundary Lake in northern Yosemite is one of those perfect High Sierra lakes with smooth granite dropping off into crystal clear water. Thanks go to my brother Jake for offering to act as my model for this shot.

With this photo, I was attempting to capture the feeling of waking up in such a beautiful, quiet place, and the promise of the warmth of the morning sun as it rose over the eastern crest. There is nothing quite like brisk dawn air, a hot cup of coffee, and no sound other than the gentle lapping of water against the rocks.