Red Foxglove grows alone in a clearing in the forest, Corbett, Oregon
This week I’m posting a wildflower shot. I don’t often get out to specifically shoot wildflowers, but seeing pristine foxglove like this, standing out against a green forest backdrop makes it hard to pass by.
I was up visiting my parents who live near the Columbia River Gorge outside of Portland, Oregon. I decided to photograph portions of their forest, which is mostly Douglas fir, and can get pretty dense in places.
Because the forest was thick, it was dark, and a tripod was required. For this shot, I used a polarized filter to cut any sheen from the vegetation. This really allowed the greens to pop. I also wanted to isolate the flowers, so I used a wide aperture (f/2.8) and the telephoto end of my 24-70mm zoom lens. In general, the longer the lens, the shallower the depth of field, so if I’d shot the flower at 24mm, even at f/2.8 the background foliage would have been much more in focus. With 70mm, all the busyness of the forest disappeared into a sea of green.
Below is another shot from the same trip, though of a different foxglove in a different part of the forest.
Backpackers and mountain bikers in Henry Coe backcountry will come across what looks like a wrecking ball next to the trail leading into Mississippi Lake.
If you are a hiker or mountain biker in Henry Coe State Park, you might have come across what looks like a wrecking ball sitting in a field just off the trail. It is situated just south of Mississippi Lake about ten miles from park headquarters, and seems very out of place here. Just what was this thing, and what was it doing here in the middle of this field? Web research did little to answer my questions, but I was treated to many photos of intrepid hikers posed in front of it, none of whom had a clue to its purpose. I finally found my answer in the 2007 late spring issue of The Ponderosa, a newsletter for the park:
The “wrecking ball” … is actually a buoy used by the United States during World War II. The buoys were manufactured for the War Department in Clearfield, Utah, and were made out of 3/8″, preformed steel plates. They were used to hold up anti·submarine nets at the entrance to U.S. harbors during the war.
At the end of the war, at least 1,500 of these buoys remained unused, and they were purchased by the owner of a junk yard near Turlock, California, for $5 each. This junk dealer turned a handsome profit, selling them to farmers for $300 each. The buoys held 440 gallons of water, and farmers used them to store water.
Frank Coit, who was from the San Joaquin valley, seems to have purchased at least one of these buoys to clear out brush. Steel plates could be welded onto the buoy, a cable attached to the plate, and, filled with water, the buoy could be dragged by a tractor or bulldozer to clear brush.
It would have been quite a sight to see that beast in action, but from the looks of it, the buoy has been sitting there for a very long time.
A backpacker is dwarfed by a large oak tree growing over the trail, Henry Coe State Park, California
I recently went on a weekend backpacking trip with my friend Steve. We had wanted to get up into the Sierra, but because of the VERY late snow melt, we had to do something at low elevation. Being quite large and close to the bay area, Henry Coe State Park was a good fit. This park features miles of back country, huge oak trees, and fire roads steeper than I though were possible to build.
Coyote Creek winds through green canyons filled with oak, Henry Coe State Park, California
We overnighted at Mississippi Lake, about 11 miles from park head quarters. Our trail out to the lake featured many climbs and descents (no trail is flat in the park), and a slog through a creek canyon. We soon gave up trying to stay dry – it was much easier to wade through the creek, as the trail crossed it at least 10 times. Once we got to the lake, we were happily surprised to see not only a bathroom, but a garbage can, picnic table, and even a pergola built over the table. It may not sound like a lot, but given we were backpacking and expecting nothing, this felt like living in luxury. We had the entire northern end of the lake to ourselves.
Wildflowers adorn a grassy canyon, Henry Coe State Park, California
The wild flowers were coming to their end, but given the amount of rain we’ve had this winter, the grass was very green, and very overgrown. On the second day, the trail out of the lake lead through a seldom-used canyon filled with oak trees. In places, the trail was hard to find due to the spring growth and lack of use.
A trail cuts through grass and wildflowers, Henry Coe State Park, California
After the canyon, we climbed to a ridge and followed it in true Henry Coe ups and downs. Finally we dropped down to a creek which flowed into the canyon we came up on the first day. This time we counted over 25 creek crossings. Once again, we ignored the trail in places and waded down the center of the creek (which in its high flow had completely consumed the trail). Overall we hiked over 10 miles in wet boots that day.
The gnarled branches of an oak frame a smaller oak neighbor, Henry Coe State Park, California
Wildlife was abundant in the park. We saw 2 rattle snakes (one of them was huge and gave us a little shake of its rattle), a turtle, several wild turkey, a female wood duck with chicks, many deer, very loud killdeer, and quite a few red-winged blackbirds.
A giant oak tree dwarfs the fire road running next to it, Henry Coe State Park, California
Over the two day trip we hiked about 26 miles. The weather wasn’t too hot, and green still dominated the park. It was a great warm-up trip as we anxiously anticipate the High Sierra opening up.
Wind and water sculpted sandstone creates an alien landscape along the headlands of Salt Point State Park, California
Last week I spent a few days at Salt Point State Park, along the California coast just north of Jenner. The state park encompasses over six miles of shoreline, as well as miles of interior trails through coastal forest. This portion of the coast is one of the most dynamic in the state, made so by acres of sandstone, shaped over time by the strong waves and stronger wind, creating an alien landscape of stone and water.
Although the sky was clear and the sun was out, the temperature never topped 60 degrees. Windy conditions persuaded most people to stay away, entrusting the entire length of coastline to me alone. By early evening, the wind really picked up with gusts between 30 – 40 mph. I had a hard enough time just staying on my feet much less keeping my tripod steady. The wind was only outdone by the strength of the massive waves breaking against the rocky shore.
Waves crash against sandstone headlands, Salt Point State Park, CaliforniaA wave blasts a sandstone point as the ocean's energy turns water into a milky froth, Salt Point State Park, California
In the mornings, the wind from the night before had subsided, but the ten to fifteen foot waves were no less fierce.
Huge waves crash over offshore sea stacks, Salt Point State Park, California
The variety of the landscape was impressive. I found myself walking through fields of recently bloomed wildflowers, back-dropped by sheer cliffs plunging to an azure ocean. At low tide, pools appeared among newly uncovered rock, offering a glimpse into the lives of the sea dwellers who live there.
Wildflowers adorn the coastline of Salt Point State ParkTidepools adorn sculpted sandstone headlands, Salt Point State Park, California
The park was home to a variety of wildlife, from song and shore birds to seals, lizards, and an abundance of healthy looking deer. Ultimately it was a brief few days, but a welcome respite from the bustle of the Bay Area. There was much more to see at Salt Point than time allowed, and I know I’ll be going back there in the future.
A harbor seal clings to an offshore rock as waves splash around it, Salt Point State Park, CaliforniaA white-crowned sparrow perches in morning light, Salt Point State Park, CaliforniaA white-crowned sparrow forages through fields of wildflowers, Salt Point State Park, California
