American Basin is one of my favorite places and is a gem of the San Juan Mountains of Colorado. This wildflower filled basin sits at about 11,500 feet in southwest Colorado, between Lake City and Silverton. For the Fourth of July weekend, we had planned to do a four day backpacking trip near Vail, but the weather forecast predicted storms. At the last minute, we decided to head to Lake City instead and travel the Alpine Loop, a 65 mile, mostly 4X4 byway through some of the most spectacular scenery in the American west.
I was not expecting much in terms of wildflowers since this area typically doesn’t peak until late July or early August. Spring must have been wet and warm, as we found fields of blooming flowers and lots of waterfalls. Instead of continuing along the loop, we ended up changing our plans and explored the basin for a few days. I will write up a full trip report at some point, but wanted to share one of the first photos I have processed from the trip. This image was taken right near sunset, with some warm light hitting the clearing storm clouds. There are numerous waterfalls as you head up the basin, following the Lake Fork of the Gunnison River up to Sloan Lake. This image was taken off trail in the middle part of the basin.
Tech details: Canon 5DII, 17-40 mm lens @ 17 mm. Two exposure (f/16, 1/4 sec and 1 sec), manual blend for dynamic range in CS4 using masks and Tony Kuyper’s luminosity masks. Other small tonal and contrast adjustments. My main monitor is dying, so this is processed on my laptop (hopefully it looks good!).
I know I’m flip-flopping around a lot with images from my recent trips, but this image from Death Valley jumped out at me today when I was scrolling through my Lightroom catalog. I have not even done a first-round edit of this trip, so there will be more to come (hopefully soon).
Death Valley is a place that I could roam for weeks and never tire of it. During my first trip to the park last May, the endless variety of the landscape and the overall experience really appealed to me. We were headed from Zion to Sequoia on an extended summer vacation. The plan was to spend four days camping and exploring Death Valley, but the heat was getting to my husband, so we headed out after less than 24 hours in the park. (I, on the other hand, loved the heat and found that night in our tent, sleeping in 100 degree weather, to be nearly joyous.) Of all the places we were visiting on that trip, which included ten national parks, Death Valley was the place I wanted to be. read more…
The Passing Storm ~ Yachats, Oregon
Despite my best intentions, I have not been doing very well in getting my photoblog and website up and running. I have lots of excuses, but it really comes down to the fact that I am still making ample time in my schedule to get out and explore, but can’t seem to deliver on the editing and processing once I get back. This all goes back to the simple fact that I got into photography because I find peace in nature and enjoy spending time in wild places, not to spend more time learning software and sorting through hundreds of images. With backpacking season nearly upon us, I need to get moving or my backlog of a two years will quickly turn into a backlog of three years. Instead of trying to post a cohesive set of images from a particular location all at once, I am going to focus on one image at a time as a means of starting to make some progress. My most recent trips included a long weekend exploring Death Valley by myself (wildflowers! salt! sand!), plus a longer vacation to the Oregon coast and the Columbia River Gorge. Lots to work with, which is overwhelming and why I am going to start with a single image to see if I can get some momentum going again.
Last year, I traveled to Oregon for the first time to participate in a photo workshop with Marc Adamus (an excellent experience with Marc, with great locations and a really nice group of fellow participants). I really fell in love with the landscape and wanted to return to explore some more on my own. Unseasonably cold weather seems to follow me almost everywhere I go and this recent trip to Oregon was no exception. Temperatures were ten to fifteen degrees lower than normal, which made for some really chilly camping on the coast and lots of interesting weather. Rain came each morning, which meant that I only got up for one sunrise. We were near Yachats that one morning, which I liked because the area has an accessible rocky coast. In scouting the day before, the tides looked favorable for that location for sunrise, as well.
The weather turned out to be unbearably cold (especially for me, since I sleep with a down comforter during the summer in my old, un-air conditioned house). Despite the whipping winds and a light driving rain, the moment I start immersing myself in the craft of photography is the moment the unbearable cold always seems to goes away. By the time I got back to my car a few hours later, I had experienced the passing of a dark storm, pastel sunrise colors on the horizon, a full rainbow over the outlet of the Yachats River, and shimmering fog drifting in and out of the surrounding trees. My fingers were horribly achy from the cold, I couldn’t talk because my face was so damn cold, and my feet were soaking wet (and, of course, cold). I found deep pleasure in it all. These moments are not only why I keep on picking up my camera, but why I am driven to continue to improve my craft.
Photo Details: Image taken with a 5D Mark II, 25-105 f/4 lens @ 40mm, f/16, ISO 50. 20 second exposure, about 20 minutes before sunrise. I used luminosity masks to brighten a few areas of the water and add a little depth to the clouds. Single exposure, probably with a polarizing filter. I really liked the color version, but decided on black and white because I preferred the look of the water and rocks. I have also been on a simplicity kick, so I found this to be pleasing to my eye (and easy to process, which seemed like a bonus today).
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When I was 13, my aunt took my brother and me to explore the Pawnee Buttes, two sandstone formations rising about 250 feet from Colorado’s shortgrass prairie. The only problem is that we never got there. Her car broke down and we were stranded. At the time, the solution was unthinkable to me. We broke into someone’s home to use their phone (by opening an unlocked door), leaving a thank you note and a $20 bill to pay for the call to AAA. At the time, I would have none of it and remember behaving badly. Since that time, I have always wanted to go back to the Pawnee Buttes to see what I missed, bringing along a better attitude this time around. read more…
My high school was about a thirty minute drive from my parent’s house. For years, I drove by the same open space two times per day on my way to and from school. Each time, I never stopped but always felt a twinge of sadness and loss as I drove by. This open space adjoins one of the larger cemeteries in the area and I have various connections to people who are buried in that cemetery. I have only visited the cemetery once that I can remember, for a funeral when I was fourteen. With the distance of time, I have felt drawn to the open space as a compromise to visiting the cemetery itself. read more…
