Hank – Page 49

November 8, 2011January 14, 2013

The Grove Of The Patriarchs

The setting sun casts a red glow in an ancient bristlecone pine, Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/8 sec. at f/14.

On my trip to the Owens Valley last month, I spent a night up in the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest with some friends. This forest runs across the ridge of the White Mountains in Inyo National Forest. It is an inhospitable environment, with a barren landscape, freezing weather, and frequent gale-force winds blasting across exposed rock. It is also one of my favorite places on earth.

This was the first time that I was in that area for both sunset and the following sunrise. A few small clouds moved in at sunset (above), providing some texture to the sky.

At sunrise, I had unobstructed views of the sun rising over the eastern horizon, across the Nevada desert. Similar to the intense alpenglow of the eastern Sierra peaks, at this elevation the trees turn an unworldly red glow at dawn. From a distance, these bare, twisted branches can transform into the wild licking flames of a campfire.

A twisted bristlecone pine glows orange in the intense rising sun, Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 2/3 EV: 2 sec. at f/16.

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The early tree-glow gave way to direct sun on the bark. This was prime time to capture the morning light, and the race was on to photograph as much as possible before it faded. Of course, working along a steep slope at 11,500 in deep snow is not easy! Soon I was panting for breath and my heart was racing out of my chest. In these types of environments, it is better to pick a spot with several morning light opportunities and stay there.

A twisted bristlecone pine reflects the warm glow of the rising sun, Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 1/3 EV: 1/10 sec. at f/16.

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A bristlecone stump clings to the side of a snowy slope, where it has sat for thousands of years. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 2/3 EV: 1/5 sec. at f/16.

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An hour later, the sun had risen above the horizon, and the trees went back to their natural brown-tan color.

A gnarled bristlecone pine grows out of a rocky slope high in the White Mountains. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering 1/3 EV: 1/60 sec. at f/16.

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Photographing these trees in the right way is not an easy task. I learned this the hard way when I first visited the forest. Having seen many amazing photographs from Galen Rowell and David Meunch taken in this area, I was expecting a lot. But I came away with less than desirable photographs, and a deeper appreciation for the difficulty in photographing these trees well. The key is to take it slow and spend some time with the trees. Not to get too metaphysical, but it helps to sit with a tree, and listen. Each time I go back, I feel as though I understand the trees a little better, and my photos improve just a little more. Some day, I may just do them justice.

November 2, 2011January 14, 2013

Alabama Hills

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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.

The peak of Mt. Whitney glows red in the early morning light. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/4 sec. at f/16.

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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.

Moments after the sun rises over the Nevada desert, the peak of Mt. Whitney glows a bright orange. Canon 100-400mm f/5.6L lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/500 sec. at f/5.6.

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Snow, rock, shadow and light combine to illustrate the steep slopes of Mt. Langley at dawn. Canon 100-400mm f/5.6L lens with the EOS-7D. ISO 400. Evaluative metering +1/3 EV: 1/640 sec. at f/5.6.

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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.

Cholla cactus thrives in the high desert of the Alabama Hills. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 1/250 sec. at f/4.

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A modest beavertail cactus grows in the Alabama Hills. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering +1 1/3 EV: 1/10 sec. at f/8.

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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.

October 28, 2011January 14, 2013

Hot Creek Sunrise

Moments before the sun rises, Hot Creek reflects the cool glow of snow covered peaks. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 200. Evaluative metering 0 EV: 30 sec. at f/16.

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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).

Grass adorns the banks of Hot Creek as sun touches the mountains to the east. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -1 EV: .3 sec. at f/16.

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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.

October 25, 2011February 4, 2017

The Search for Sky Rock

Created long ago by Native Americans, the Sky Rock Petroglyph's location is kept fairly private. It is only shared through word of mouth so that it can be kept safe.

The blazing sun beat down on us as we scanned the horizon looking for more rock piles, heaved up eons ago from the ancient volcanic surface on which we stood.

“Hey Dan, wanna try over there?” I asked, pointing to a long stretch of ten to thirty foot wide boulders. Dan nodded and we trudged across the high desert plateau to search another area.

I was with my photographer friend Dan Canfield, and we had decided on our first night in town that we would try to find a secret Native American petroglyph, in recent years dubbed “Sky Rock”. Not found on any map, this ancient rock drawing is kept secret from the general public. Those in “the know” don’t divulge its location so that fewer people will visit, and its condition will be kept as pristine as natural forces allow. After some hunting, we narrowed down the location to its general vicinity, but even then, the ancient carving eluded us.

It was midday, and our second attempt at searching. Our first attempt was during sunset the evening before, and we quickly ran out of time trying to find it before dark. This time we were armed with a little more research, and many more hours of daylight. Finally, after much scrambling, a few skinned knees, and crawling into some dark and nasty places, we found it! We were giddy with excitement.

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Carved into a flat rock, this series of drawings is different than most other petroglyphs because of its horizontal orientation. Most Native American drawings were done on vertical walls. The drawings are carved into the rock about an inch deep, to reveal the lighter colored stone underneath the darker outer coating. We took some photos, sat for a while, and scouted our route so that we could come back in the dark. Midday was great for searching, but as photographers, we wanted only the best light, which would be either sunrise or sunset. Our schedule allowed for a sunrise shoot in a couple of days, so all we could do was cross our fingers and hope for good weather.

The mountains of the easter Sierra Nevada glow red over the Sky Rock Petroglyph, just outside of Bishop, CA

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The history of this carving is not well known. Some have theorized that it was probably created by the ancestors of what are today known as the Owens Valley Paiute, possibly as long as 8,000 years ago.

It was a very special experience spending some time on this rock as the sun lit first the western mountains, and then the valley below us. I devoured the silence of the morning, and felt a special energy around this place. It was an amazing feeling to know that this human creation had sat here for similar sunrises, long lazy days, and powerful storms for millennia.

Possibly the best part of finding Sky Rock was the fact that it was hidden. In the days of instant gratification and unlimited knowledge, it was nice to really have to work for answers.