A popular stop on any eastern Sierra tour is the Alabama Hills outside of Lone Pine. I’ve been here before, but every time I come back I see new things to focus on and photograph. Dawn is the most versatile time to shoot the area, as your photographs are enhanced by the intense alpenglow that adorns the 14,000 foot peaks to the west.
The two dominating mountain subjects in this area are Mt. Langley (above) and the Mt. Whitney massif (below). I was lucky to shoot the area after an early season snow storm, so I had some snow to contrast the red rock of the mountain tops. The Alabama Hills are covered with interesting boulder shapes, which provides endless photographic possibilities.
Using an entire arsenal of lens lengths is key to this area. Wide angles work well framing mountains inside of arches. Medium lengths can use rock formations as foregrounds, while not diminishing the relative size of the massive mountains in the background (as seen in the first photo). Perhaps my favorite in this area however, are the long lenses. Point them anywhere and you’ll see interesting rock detail or a study of the cracks and crags that define a mountain face.
I kept shooting until the red glow of the mountains faded to its natural gray, and the long shadows of dawn began to shrink. I looked to the shady spots so that I didn’t have to work against the harsh shadows of mid morning. My eye was drawn to the variety of cactus growing in this high desert. In order to separate the cactus from their busy surroundings, I attached my 70-200mm lens and got down on my stomach. I worked with apertures that gave me just enough depth of field for the cactus, but threw the background out of focus.
After another hour, it was time to pack up for the morning and head out. If I had several days here, I would use this part of the day to explore and scout potential spots for future sunsets and sunrises. Unfortunately this day, I had other places to visit.
One of my first sunrise shoots on my recent trip to the eastern Sierra was at Hot Creek. I wanted to catch some snow from the recent snow storm before it melted out of the mountains, and I knew this spot would work well with longer lenses to help emphasize the mountains.
The first shot was taken a half hour before sunrise. The scene was just starting to light up, but still maintained some of the cooler hues of night. Although there were no clouds to work with, there was some slight haze above the mountains, which reflected some of the deep purple of pre-dawn.
One of my biggest challenges in these early morning shoots is staying warm as I patiently wait behind my tripod for the light to change. For this location, the main foreground attraction was really the flowing creek, so I didn’t move around a lot. If you had been there that morning, you would have seen what looked like a crazy person jumping up and down and blowing on his hands to keep warm (yes, I forgot my gloves that morning).
After the sun rose and I felt I captured that part of the creek in the best light of the morning, I explored with the camera a little trying out different foregrounds and lens lengths. I’m a sucker for near/far verticals, and that’s what my eye gravitated toward when I saw this long grass growing along the bank of the creek.
Soon enough the photo shoot was over, as the morning light faded and fishermen began to show up along the length of the creek.
Earlier this month I made a trip to Bishop, CA and the surrounding areas to see what the autumn colors had to offer this year. I knew it would be unpredictable, given the huge snowfall of the previous winter, combined with this year’s short summer. The weather played one final card as an early snow storm moved in right before my trip, dumping snow in the mountains. Unfortunately, this snow killed off the trademark fall color of the eastern Sierra, turning those golden Aspen leaves to brown and black. However, I was treated to a pristine white mountain backdrop, at least for a few days.
When I got into town, I met up with photographer friend Dan Canfield, and set out to the Chalk Bluffs north of Bishop for the first sunset of the trip. As dusk approached, it looked like the sunset would be a dud. One small wispy cloud mocked our photographic anticipation.
However, as the sun crept toward the eastern mountains, dramatic clouds began building up and materializing above the horizon. Once the sun set behind the range, we were treated to twenty minutes of pure (and frantic) delight. The colors played across the ever-changing clouds, which congealed and dissipated with casual acquaintance. Soon it was all over, as the sun slipped away yet again.
These moments always pass too quickly, but that’s part of what makes them so special. I felt blessed to witness such a powerful display of natural forces in one of our earth’s special places. Stay tuned for much more from this trip – I’m processing the photos as quickly as time allows!
A couple of weeks ago my friend Steve and I finally headed into the Sierra high country for a long-overdue back-country excursion. Due to the heavy snow pack this year and busy schedules, this turned out to be our only trip of the summer. To make the most of it, we chose to visit the Ansel Adams Wilderness, arguably one of the most scenic regions of the Sierra.
Hiking out of June Lakes and up Rush Creek, we hit less than ideal weather. The climb was a brutal slog (4200 ft of gain), and thunder clouds began to congregate in the western sky. A biting wind whipped us from all sides, making even the flat spots (of which there were few) seem like a chore.
Finally we reached our destination – Thousand Island Lake. Rising above the lake was the impressive Banner Peak, but most of it was obscured by thick clouds. This is a very scenic and popular spot. Sitting next to both the Pacific Crest Trail and the John Muir Trail, it receives an enormous number of visitors each summer. Even though it was after Labor Day, and the weather was no good, there were still quite a few backpackers settling in for the night along the north shore of the lake. I’d hate to see this place on a mid-August weekend!
We set up camp and soon the weather was too cold to even wait for darkness to fall. We were in our tents by 7pm.
Dawn brought clear weather and introduced me to an entirely new landscape. The wind was gone, and Banner Peak was reflected like a mirror in all its morning glory. I finally got out my camera and began to hunt for shots. The day before I took only four photos the entire day.
After finally warming up, we packed up camp and decided to get away from the crowds. We headed north off trail. We only had one ridge to climb before descending into Davis Lakes. It was our shortest hiking day on record, but given the beautiful scenery we were surrounded by, we couldn’t complain.
We spent a leisurely afternoon by lower Davis Lake, and I scouted the area so that I would be prepared when the evening’s magic hour arrived. I was not disappointed, with views to the south (above) and to the north (below).
After another long night in our tents, I woke long before dawn and watched the world slowly light up around me while I was hunkered behind my lens. It was our last morning out, and it didn’t disappoint. The landscape had a wholly different feel than in the sunset light the night before.
The lake shore had many interesting boulders and grass features to position in the foreground. This helped to keep the shots varied and gave me plenty to work with in terms of composition.
Soon the morning’s sweetest light was gone, but I was confident that I had captured at least a little of the beauty around me. It was time to pack up and start the long hike out.
Despite the problematic weather at the beginning of our trip, I thought it turned out very well. I was glad to have visited this area, and know that I’ll be back to photograph it more in depth.