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.
After waiting all summer for the snow to melt out of the high country, I finally ventured north of Tioga Road with some friends from college for a weekend backpacking trip. Instead of my usual high mileage days, our focus was on leisure time in the backcountry, which gave me plenty of time for photography. We hiked into the Ten Lakes region – an area featuring a chain of lakes with forested streams in between them, all draining into the Tuolumne River far below.
We found a campsite at the far end of a small lake. The site was situated atop a thirty foot cliff, giving us a commanding view of the lake and surrounding cliffs. Behind us rose an unnamed granite peak, offering the camp a nice backdrop. Best of all however, was the nearby stream dropping from an upper lake into the lake below. There was an endless variety of small pools and cascades, giving me plenty of material to work with.
Just before sunset on our first night, the clouds started moving in. While other campers might have cast a worrisome eye to the skies, I was elated. I knew that the chance for a dramatic sunset was greatly increased with the changing weather conditions, and thankfully I was rewarded with one. The best part – I only had to walk about ten yards from our campsite to get the view I wanted. Given it required almost no work on my part, I almost felt guilty.
The next morning was bright and clear. I woke up early to explore the area, and see what the morning had to offer. Our little lake looked quite different in the morning, and I took advantage of the still air to get a nice reflection in the background of a camp-side stream photo. I can never get enough of Sierra Nevada granite.
This day was a rest day – full of fishing and exploring some of the other lakes in the chain. Working our way up to a higher lake, we saw there were still huge slabs of snow right at the shoreline. Going higher still, we found a lake with no fish, but a perfect spot for a mid day swim. There is something very special about having an entire lake to yourself in the most populated state in the nation. Of course, along the way, I also had plenty more opportunities for photos.
After exhausting ourselves and getting a great night of sleep, it was time to head back to the real world. It was a great trip, with beautiful landscape and only seven miles of hiking each way. While the location was not as remote as most of my Sierra trips, I enjoyed the slower pace and additional time for photography. I’ll definitely have to work in more trips like this in the future!
Last weekend I was up in Oregon visiting my parents. One of the enjoyable aspects of visiting the area in which I grew up is some of the fantastic photographic opportunities there. Growing up at the mouth of the Columbia River Gorge, it was easy to take some of the remarkable scenery for granted. But living elsewhere and visiting this area helps me put fresh eyes on a familiar landscape.
This photograph features the famous Crown Point Vista House standing sentinel atop its cliff, overlooking the Columbia River. It is an over-photographed image, but one I love coming back to in different conditions. Here I only wished for a more dynamic sky, but as is always true in landscape photography, you get what nature gives you.