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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
Dramatic clouds build over the peaks of the Evolution Basin of King's Canyon National Park. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 2/3 EV: 1/160 sec. at f/8.
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.
The sun plays dramatically across storm clouds as it sets behind the eastern Sierra range. Canon 70-200mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 800. Evaluative metering 1/3 EV: 1/200 sec. at f/8.
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.
Banner Peak is reflected in Thousand Island Lake at dawn, Ansel Adams Wilderness. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -2/3 EV: 1/15 sec. at f/14.
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.
The sun rises over Thousand Island Lake and Banner Peak, Ansel Adams Wilderness. Canon 24-70mm f/2.8L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -2/3 EV: 1/15 sec. at f/14.
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.
Mt. Davis is reflected amongst the boulders in Davis Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -1 EV: 1/6 sec. at f/16.
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).
Mountains are reflected in the smooth surface of Davis Lake at sunset, Ansel Adams Wilderness. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering 0 EV: .3 sec. at f/16.
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.
Sun lights the tip of Mt. Davis at dawn, Ansel Adams Wilderness. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering 0 EV: .8 sec. at f/16.
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.
The morning sun touches the peaks surrounding Davis Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering -1 EV: 1 sec. at f/16.
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.
Mt. Davis is reflected in the still morning waters of Davis Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness. Canon 17-40mm f/4L lens with the EOS-5D MkII. ISO 100. Evaluative metering 1 EV: 1 sec. at f/16.
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.
