Yosemite’s Natural Fire Fall

For only a few days a year, the setting sun lights up the seasonal horsetail falls, cascading down the sheer face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park.

A couple of weekends ago, I had the opportunity to witness one of nature’s most spectacular light phenomenons. For only a few days of only some years, a seasonal waterfall in Yosemite National Park glows like lava as it catches the last rays of waning sunlight. I had long wanted to witness this event in person, but timing or weather had thus far made it impossible. Luckily, my good friend Steve was on the ball, and invited me along. He had already taken care of all the logistics (thank you Steve!) and all I had to do was pack for snow and show up.

Snow covers the floor of Yosemite Valley after a winter storm.
Snow covers the floor of Yosemite Valley after a winter storm.

After a morning drive to Yosemite from the San Francisco Bay Area, we soon found ourselves in one of the most beautiful valleys on Earth. A recent storm had dropped several feet of snow on the ground and frosted the landscape, accentuating Yosemite Valley in all it wintry glory.

Snow covers the floor of Yosemite Valley after a winter storm.
Snow covers the floor of Yosemite Valley after a winter storm.

As I often do with grand vistas, I not only captured the standard landscape shots, but also used my telephoto lens to find scenes within the scene. Switching to my 70-200mm allowed me to isolate Bridalveil Falls cascading down icy cliffs.

Bridalveil Falls forms an icy sheen on the rocks below, Yosemite National Park, CA.
Bridalveil Falls forms an icy sheen on the rocks below, Yosemite National Park, CA.

We stopped off at the Bridalveil Falls trail and scrambled up the slippery path to the base of the falls. Here it became a frigid dance of setting up a shot on the tripod, wiping the icy spray that had accumulated on the lens, and quickly firing a shot. Many times the same shot had to be repeated due to poor wiping skills. Being able to immediately review each shot on the back of the camera was essential for success. With deep respect, I thought of the many photography legends who likely stood in this very spot using much more challenging gear.

Yosemite Falls is reflected in the calm water below, Yosemite National Park, CA.
Yosemite Falls is reflected in the calm water below, Yosemite National Park, CA.
Half Dome towers above Yosemite Valley in winter.
Half Dome towers above Yosemite Valley in winter.

Throughout midday, we were able to capture some of the valley’s most famous icons, dusted in powdery snow.

Finally it was time to prepare for the main event. Many parking lots in Yosemite Valley were closed due to the several feet of snow on the ground. We parked at the closest lot and then snowshoed about a mile to the principal location at which the fire falls phenomenon could be viewed. We set up cameras and tripods at around 2pm, and waited until sunset, which we wouldn’t see for another three and a half hours (yes, landscape photography requires patience!).

For only a few days a year, the setting sun lights up the seasonal horsetail falls, cascading down the sheer face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park.
For only a few days a year, the setting sun lights up the seasonal horsetail falls, cascading down the sheer face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park.

Finally, just after 5pm, Horsetail Falls came to life. Starting with an intense yellow, the falls turned to orange lava over the course of ten minutes.

The story of the original Yosemite “fire falls” goes back to the early years of the National Park Service, at a time when it was struggling to define the meaning of “attraction” for park visitors.  One popular sentiment of the day was that the parks had to entertain visitors, much in the way a circus would entertain audiences through spectacle.   As much of the nation was still rural, the idea of simply having access to wilderness was not as precious as today.

For example, when black bears began to raid the poorly maintained Yosemite Valley dump where all food scraps would end up, the first thought was not the safety of the wild bears. Instead of building proper barricades to prevent the bears from habituating to human food, the park service built bleachers around the dump so that visitors could watch the action.  Another such misstep was the nightly building of a large bonfire at the top of Glacier Point.  As the fire burned down, the embers were shoveled off the cliff, creating a “fire fall” to wow the crowd below in Curry Village. Thankfully this practice was eliminated in the early 1960s. Little did people realize that nature was already providing a much more spectacular display of its own.

For only a few days a year, the setting sun lights up the seasonal horsetail falls, cascading down the sheer face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park.
For only a few days a year, the setting sun lights up the seasonal horsetail falls, cascading down the sheer face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park.

In 1973, photographer Galen Rowel was coming back from a climb in the valley when he looked up and saw a stunning light display against the shadowed backdrop of El Capitan.  Amazed at what he saw, he rushed to photograph it, only to see the light disappear before his eyes.  Although he didn’t know if he’d ever see something like that again, the next night he was prepared.  Sure enough, around the same time of day, Horsetail Falls (a seasonal waterfall that only flows with the proper amount of snow melt) lit up like a beacon.  He quickly composed an image that would become famous, and introduced the world to this amazing natural “fire fall”, which is now photographed by hundreds of photographers annually.

For only a few days a year, the setting sun lights up the seasonal horsetail falls, cascading down the sheer face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park.
For only a few days a year, the setting sun lights up the seasonal horsetail falls, cascading down the sheer face of El Capitan in Yosemite National Park.

What Galen Rowel was seeing was the setting sun striking only Horsetail Falls, isolating it against the dark cliffs of El Capitan.  There is only about 10 minutes per day where this contrast can be seen, turning the water a reddish orange just before the sun dips over the horizon.  In addition, this perfect sun angle that is required to light the falls but not the cliff only happens twice a year for a few days at a time. And only in late February is there a chance that Horsetail Falls is actually flowing.  This explains why this natural “fire fall” was such a rare occurrence before anybody knew to look for it.

I was overjoyed to finally witness and photograph this phenomenon for myself.

Gear I used to create the photos in this post:

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?

Seeking Originality In Yosemite Valley

A California black oak stands in a field of wild flowers. In the background an immense granite wall rises from Yosemite Valley.
A California black oak stands in a field of wild flowers. In the background an immense granite wall rises from Yosemite Valley.

This summer I spent some time with some old friends backpacking in the Yosemite high country. I love the high country any time of year, but especially in the summer, it offers a cooler respite to the throngs of visitors choking the roads of Yosemite Valley. However, one of my friends had not been to the park since he was a young child, and since we had a little time on our first day, we wanted to drive down in to the valley. I was game, but photographically, I was not expecting much. The valley was hot, had bad lighting midday, and several controlled burns were blowing smoke up the Merced, coating everything in a brown haze.

As we drove down into the valley, seeing all the tourists got me to thinking about originality and photographic vision. Here were millions of people getting out of their cars and taking essentially the same photo as the person they were standing shoulder-to-shoulder with. I started to formulate a challenge in my mind – search for a photograph that captures some of the essence of Yosemite Valley, but keep it fresh and unexpected. I didn’t know if I could come away with something I was proud of, having been through the same area with my camera so many times before.

Luckily the natural world is ever changing and constantly brings new surprises at every bend. The first thing I noticed were all of the wildflowers blooming in the fields on the valley floor. The yellowing grass of late summer was punctuated by brighter yellow blooms, spattered throughout the fields with chaotic perfection. Suddenly three elements came together, and I knew I had the shot I was looking for. A California black oak stood apart from its neighbors, surrounded by intense wild flowers. Behind the tree rose an immense sheer wall of granite, juxtaposing the flowers with cool blues and grays. Here was the essential Yosemite Valley, captured in a way I had never done before.

I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face as I strolled back to the car – a great start to a great trip.

Food poisoning, ten hours of driving, and all I got were these lousy photographs!

A forest of pine covers the floor of Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park
A forest of pine covers the floor of Yosemite Valley, Yosemite National Park

It all started out well enough. My friend Steve and I headed out of town last Thursday night for what looked like a wonderfully scenic three-day backpacking trip. We were going to start in Sierra National Forest, loop into southern Yosemite, and then into Ansel Adams Wilderness. The drive went well, the 30 miles of dirt road were easier than we were expecting, and we found a nice spot to disperse camp at the trail head.

Then, sitting around the campfire before bed, my stomach started feeling pretty bad. I thought maybe it was the altitude, as we were camped above 8000 feet. I went to bed expecting to acclimatize over night and feel better in the morning. Wrong – I felt worse. I’ll spare you the details, but it soon became apparent that I couldn’t hold anything down, including water. My head was pounding with dehydration. Definitely no way to start a rigorous 15+ mile day!

From Glacier Point, the visitor is granted views of Yosemite Valley, Half Dome, and the Yosemite high country
From Glacier Point, the visitor is granted views of Yosemite Valley, Half Dome, and the Yosemite high country.

After much deliberation, we decided to skip the trip and pack it in. Thankfully, Steve is one of those easy-going guys who can be very flexible when plans need to change. We were both disappointed, but agreed to tackle the trip another time. Since we were close to Yosemite, we decided to pop into the park for some quick vistas before heading back to the Bay Area.

Trees grow out of rounded granite overlooking Nevada Falls from Glacier Point, Yosemite National Park
Trees grow out of rounded granite overlooking Nevada Falls from Glacier Point, Yosemite National Park

So, okay, the photographs I took weren’t “lousy”, but not really what I was expecting from a trip into the backcountry. I much prefer photographing areas with few or no people – preferably that are hard to get to. As it was, we were stuck with what is the hustle and bustle of a Yosemite vista point in mid-summer. In general, I tend to stay away from these spots for two reasons. First, they are frequently crowded to the point that it breaks my ability to connect with the nature that surrounds me. Getting out into the Sierra only to see people pushing and shoving to get a view (Glacier Point, anyone?) is not my idea of solitude! Second, from a photographic standpoint, I don’t like taking photos that have literally been taken millions of times before.

Although this landscape has been captured by cameras millions of times, it is still beautiful to behold
Although this landscape has been captured by cameras millions of times, it is still beautiful to behold

Needless to say, I was in a bad mood heading back last Friday. However, after getting home and processing the photos I took, I was reminded why all those people were there. Everyone can get to these spots, and they are among the most beautiful in the world. I remember the first time I saw Yosemite and how awe-struck I was. I would never want to deny anyone else that same experience, no matter how grumpy I get from a missed backpacking trip. After all, there is a reason they call these scenic vista points.

Copyright 2017 Hank Christensen