Sunrise over Lake Powell at Lone Rock.
This is a follow-up to the recent series on photography in national parks. For these mini-series, they just seem to naturally make up the nice round number of three parts.
Closures & Budget
In one of those posts I listed some of my likes and dislikes on shooting in national parks. Here is one more pair:
Like: National parks are open all the time. Unlike state parks and some other protected areas, which are often closed from dusk to dawn, national parks are generally open 24/7/365. That means you can go out with your flashlight and hike down a trail to an overlook to gaze at stars (and photograph them). There are some exceptions, and because of the near universality of this always-open policy, it can be a rude surprise to learn after you’ve arrived to a park that it doesn’t really apply there. Make sure to check their website before heading out. A few of these exceptions are described below.
Dislike: The Park Service has an extremely limited budget and yet in many cases does not seem to know how to spend it wisely. They are constantly under threat of either being shut down or privatized. Politically it’s the right-wingers & anti-government tea party types who push this agenda. While I believe strongly that parks should remain public and that they’re too commercial as it is, I do notice the NPS wasting their limited funding.
For example, I think too much money is spent at Yellowstone and other popular parks on a police force that seems much more well-staffed than it needs to be. A law-enforcement ranger in an SUV costs a lot of money, much more than an educational ranger who spends a lot of time outside, on foot.
Several decades back the NPS committed strongly to ramping up their law enforcement, replacing real rangers with police in ranger outfits. I believe strongly that this was wrong, primarily because it took resources away from education and interpretation, the traditional role of a ranger. It’s not that I disagree with having cops around; crime takes place in parks just like it does anywhere. It’s just that in most cases the numbers of police is overkill. There are neighborhoods in many cities that would love to have half the police presence that Yellowstone has.
Orange lichen and sandstone in the Grand Staircase, southern Utah.
Exception 1: Chaco Canyon.
This former center of the Ancestral Puebloan (aka Anasazi) culture in New Mexico has a scenic loop road that is the only way to access most of the ruins and trails in this national historic park. In order to control potential poaching of archaeological resources, the park closes that road at dusk. I can personally attest to their strict enforcement at Chaco; they want you out before the sun disappears below the horizon. I had to talk to the superintendent to get a (spendy!) ticket dismissed because I was shooting at sunset and assumed a small grace period.
The supernova pictograph in Chaco Canyon is only accessible by hiking.
Exception 2: Mesa Verde.
Mesa Verde in Colorado is similar to Chaco. That is, there is no access to the cliff dwellings after sunset. The reason, as always, is to protect resources. While that is certainly understandable, resources need protection all the time. The real reason is the usual lack of staffing, a budget issue.
Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument, Utah.
Exception 3: White Sands National Monument.
This place in New Mexico has an unusual policy where they close the entrance gate from about dusk to dawn, with hours varying by season. It’s very much like a state park or wildlife refuge. The reason given is the adjacent missile range, so it’s a safety issue. But it’s also because they don’t have money to patrol at night. They are happy to open early for sunrise or stay late if you pay them $50 per extra hour, which is actually a pretty good deal if you have a group. But really: the military doesn’t have money to patrol their own boundaries?
Early morning at White Sands, New Mexico.
DUSK TO DAWN CLOSURES
When protected areas are closed at night it can create a problem for landscape & nature photographers, even those who don’t want to shoot the stars. Because of the need to concentrate our shooting at dawn and dusk, it can be quite difficult to properly shoot at sunset and get out by nightfall. No good photographer packs up right after the sun dips below the horizon, for one thing. The best light often comes after that.
I’ve found that many state parks will give you a decent grace period; you’re okay until it is fully dark. Even so, when you hike a fair distance to a sunset spot, it’s well and truly dark when you return to the car. A grace period won’t help in that case.
Another recent image from the Grand Staircase, Utah.
Although (some) state and other parks may show some flexibility, things are different at national and state wildlife refuges. These sites are managed for wildlife not people, so don’t expect much if any consideration. Some areas, in fact, are closed to entry day and night. And it’s common to close areas seasonally for breeding birds. I’ve heard of people being jailed for entering wildlife refuges, even those without firearms. Poaching is a big problem at many refuges, so it’s perfectly understandable.
But I often wish for a world without so many rules. Most are made and enforced because of a very small minority of people who can’t seem to figure out how to behave. But it’s all of us who have to suffer for it. I suppose it’s one of those things that can’t be helped, so why stress about it?
That’s it for this week. I may have come off as a bit of a grump, but that’s not really me at all. I’m actually very happy having all these fantastic places to shoot and play. But the main reason for my appreciation is that it’s unlike so much of what humans do, which is the result of rather selfish, short-term thinking. But parks and preserves are set aside for future generations and thus arise from more enlightened long-term thinking. Have a great weekend and happy shooting!
Sunset at Coral Pink Sand Dunes, a state park near the much more famous Zion National Park, Utah.
Fog lifts over the southern California coast ranges.
No Friday Foto Talk this week, sorry ’bout that. I needed a little break. Instead I’ll post an image from where I camped for several nights waiting for my vehicle to be worked on. It’s in southern California, but inland from the coast in a southern extension of the San Bernadino Mountains. It was cool up there, especially toward morning when the bright stars disappeared and dense fog rolled in just before sunrise. It was a very consistent weather pattern.
A short time after the sun was up the fog would lift and begin to burn off. This let in those beautiful beams of light called crepuscular rays, which illuminated the valley below. Besides me the only others appreciating the show were the birds plus a few cows. Much of the native vegetation above the valley floor is dry and brittle, with a golden hue reminiscent of fall. California remains in a serious drought.
The shot is one of several that were difficult to choose from. Together they show a progression of the fog lifting, from fairly dense fog to brilliant pale blue skies with clouds. They were taken on different days but the weather conditions were virtually identical so they seem as if they were all from one morning. This one captures the middle part of the process.
Thanks for looking!
A rare selfie in one of the narrow canyons of Valley of Fire State Park, Nevada.
Time for a themed post: Narrow. It’s this week’s WPC travel theme, so check out all the other entries.
I’ll start out close to home: Oregon’s Oneonta Gorge. Nowadays it is quite famous, but I recall a time when only locals knew about it. In the warmer months hordes of people hike up the short narrows, wading through the cool water to escape the heat. In just a half-mile or less your progress is halted by a tall waterfall, where you can climb up a short way and jump off into the pool below. So refreshing!
Green Oneonta Gorge, Oregon
The narrows at Oneonta Gorge, full of water during the heavy rains of early Spring.
My pictures of Oneonta, however, were all captured in the worst weather I could manage, normally winter or early spring. The canyon is at its greenest and the mossy walls drip with tiny waterfalls. At these times it is dangerous to go further than the log jam. The water is deep and swift and believe me, you wouldn’t want to be swept under the logs. They would be pulling your body out later.
These logs testify to the power of Oneonta Creek when it floods during heavy rains.
Wading through the icy water of Oneonta Creek during a winter storm.
While most of the canyons in this amazing place are not the ultra-narrow slots common to the Colorado Plateau, the park does boast a plethora of narrow canyons to explore. One of the most famous is Titus Canyon. Most times you can drive this canyon. You leave the park on the east side and then re-enter it by descending Titus, passing a ghost town along the way. There are other canyons near Titus that represent great hiking destinations. Just hike north from the parking lot at the mouth of Titus Canyon.
You can drive down one of Death Valley’s largest canyons, Titus.
For a canyon hike in Death Valley, the one I most often recommend is Marble Canyon. Access it by driving the dirt road from Stovepipe Wells, passable in a 2-wheel drive car (but check at the ranger station). Walking up-canyon, you soon reach the narrows, where canyon walls reach hundreds of feet into the sky. On a hot day try pressing your whole body against the grey limestone canyon walls. Definitely a cooling experience! By continuing up-canyon you eventually come to the beautiful marble that it’s named for. Most of the way you are passing through limestone, stacks and stacks of it piled into layers at the bottom of the sea hundreds of millions of years ago.
Marble Canyon, Death Valley National Park, California.
SLOTS of the COLORADO PLATEAU
Spreading across southern Utah, northern Arizona and part of Colorado is an enormous feature called the Colorado Plateau. It is an uplifted landscape characterised by naked sandstone bedrock. Known throughout the world for its iconic scenery, the plateau is dissected by countless canyons of all description.
The heart of the Colorado Plateau is incised by the meandering San Juan River, Utah.
The Grand Canyon is of course the biggest, but many are so narrow that you have to squeeze yourself through. These are the famous narrow gorges called slot canyons. They formed because, during the plateau’s uplift (at the same time as the Rocky Mountains rose), fractures developed much like a rising loaf of bread. It is along these fractures that the slots have been eroded by a combination of freeze-thaw action and flowing water.
One of the biggest concentrations of slot canyons lies in Zion National Park. Many of these are accessible to any adventurous hiker – for example the two most popular hikes: the Narrows and the Subway. But some others require specialized equipment. Being a popular national park, there are plenty of outfitters who will guide you safely through the technical slots. If you’ve never done any canyoneering before, let me tell you: it’s a blast!
Zion Canyon from Angel’s Rest. The famous Narrows of the Virgin River are at the head of the canyon in the background.
If you want to hike the Subway, I recommend either getting a permit way ahead of time or doing it off-season. Permits are required April through October, so November is a perfect time to do it. It’s not a short hike but anybody in good shape and with some experience should have no problem.
The Subway in Zion National Park, Utah.
Yet it’s easy to get a feel for slot canyons without investing a lot of time. Simply drive up to East Zion (beyond the tunnels), park at a likely spot and set off up one of the canyons, turning around at your whim (or when your way is blocked). This is a great way to explore the park.
A side-canyon in East Zion, Utah.
To the east of Zion is another wonderland of slots: the Escalante country. A drive down Hole in the Rock Road near the town of Escalante brings you to numerous hikes into the typically narrow tributary canyons of the Escalante River. You don’t have to brave that long washboard road, however. Get a good map and explore the numerous canyons accessible from Highway 12.
There is such a thing as a slot that is too narrow: southern Utah.
Nearby Bryce Canyon, while not known for slot canyons, nevertheless has an amazing hike you should do if you visit. It drops below the rim and wanders among the hoodoos (rock pinnacles) that make the park famous. It’s like a maze of narrow passages, including one named Wall Street (image below).
Aptly-named Wall Street in Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah.
Capitol Reef National Park also has some amazing narrow canyon hikes. One I can recommend hiking is the strangely-named Muley Twist Canyon. Drive the Burr Trail Road (an adventure in itself) and near its summit you can hike either up- or down-canyon, exploring Muley Twist to your heart’s content. A shorter canyon hike at Capitol Reef is Grand Wash, located at the end of the scenic drive (turn off at the Visitor Center).
The Wave is a sculpted stretch of sandstone in southern Utah.
Continuing east across the plateau you’ll find more fun canyons to explore in the Moab area, including Canyonlands and Arches National Parks. You could spend your whole life doing nothing but hiking canyons on the Colorado Plateau and never finish with them. There are just so many. It’s a true wonderland. But be smart when you go canyon hiking. Take the ten essentials plus a hiking partner (or at least let someone know where you’re going and when to expect your return).
A slot in Canyonlands National Park, Utah.
Squeezing through a slot canyon.
Thanks for looking!
The early morning sun streams into Ute Canyon in Colorado National Monument.
This is an image from earlier in the summer that I reprocessed. I wanted to bring out some of the drama of that June morning in Colorado National Monument near Grand Junction. It was the proverbial ‘dark and stormy night’ when I camped near the monument boundary, high up to escape the heat of the valley floor. It’s been a very hot summer in the American West. I woke up a bit too late, assuming it would be a grey, cloudy sunrise. But after examining the slowly brightening sky, I realized there was promise of clearing. I didn’t waste any more time.
The monument occupies a spectacular place at the northern edge of the Colorado Plateau, where canyons cut deeply into the colorful sandstone, creating fascinating erosional forms. I’d camped only 10 minutes or so from the canyon rim, so despite the late start I arrived before sunup. I searched, somewhat frantically, for a good spot to shoot from. This is the problem with sunrise. If you don’t already have something scoped out from the day before, it’s difficult to find a spot in time for the good light.
Ever since my first trip here, I’d been wanting an image of Ute Canyon. It’s sort of off the radar, mostly because it lacks the soaring rock pinnacles that the monument is known for. But the canyon has a sort of magnetic draw for me, and it’s aligned toward the rising sun in summertime. By the way you can hike up the canyon from below. It makes a great overnight backpack.
I parked and worked my way along the canyon rim. The sun rose and light was good, but I just got images that included the road. I didn’t stop there because I know the presence of dramatic clouds like this can mean good shooting even well after sunrise. I kept looking for a good spot, being careful around the cliff edge. Just in time for the last of the warm light I found this natural viewpoint, a flat rock perched high above the canyon.
HOW THIS IMAGE WAS MADE
As the sun peeked through and light streamed into the canyon, I got a couple shots. For this image, I used my 21 mm. lens. I wanted to get very close to the foreground rock to show the interesting lichen and impart a feeling of standing there. So in order to get as much depth of field as possible, I had to focus stack. So I shot one frame for the foreground and a couple more for the background and sky.
There was a lot of contrast in the scene, shooting toward a sun that had already risen. So in addition to the focus stack I did a basic exposure stack as well. In other words the shot for the sky was a shorter exposure so as not to blow it out. Using Photoshop I merged the separate exposures for a final image that represents a single moment, despite the shots being some seconds apart.
I hope your weekend was a fun one. Happy shooting!
Chaco Canyon from Penasco Blanco, an out-of-the-way ruin requiring a hike to get to. Being here at sunset means risking a ticket (see text below)
Last week I listed a few likes and dislikes of visiting and photographing in national parks. All subjective of course. When I say I dislike something, it means I dislike only the one thing. Please don’t try to read anything more into it. For example, in general I dislike crowds. Not at ballgames, rock concerts, etc.; they’re a part of the experience at such places. I certainly don’t begrudge the many people who love our parks and visit them. I recognize that if crowds at parks are a problem then I’m a part of that problem. It’s just that I can’t enjoy any natural area if it’s too crowded.
The Yellowstone River meanders through Hayden Valley. While the road through here is very busy, you can hike cross-country for different views and few people.
Pet Peeve #1: Littering
And speaking of crowds in parks, it can lead to other problems. One of them, a big pet peeve of mine, is littering. Strangely, the Park Service seems to do little to combat this problem. For example the publication you get upon entering any park spends a lot of time warning of the dangers of bears, falling rocks or whatever hazards exist naturally (and obviously) in parks. Especially bears, they seem completely fixated on bears. But they say nothing about littering. The park newsletter is the obvious place to mention the fact that littering is illegal and subject to a fine.
I believe the Park Service thinks the problem was beaten years ago. Through the 1970s Americans began to litter a lot less. We became much more environmentally aware in that era. And increasing fines for littering didn’t hurt either. But those days are gone now. The younger generations tend to be less environmentally conscious than their parents. In other words parents have dropped the ball in this way like so many others.
In addition (warning: this is going to sound politically incorrect), the immigrant population has been increasing. While that isn’t a bad thing of course, many of them come from places where littering is socially acceptable (though that is now changing in certain parts of the world). These people simply need to be educated, and for those of us who already know, we need to be reminded. If anyone doesn’t get the message, break out the fines. Money talks, in any language. But the NPS isn’t doing any of this. As a result we all get to see plastic water bottles and toilet paper strewn about in our national parks.
If Death Valley gets busy you can always head over to adjacent Panamint Valley. Also within the park, it’s a great place to look for feral burros.
Sometimes it pays to be short: A small passageway in Lehman Caves, Great Basin National Park, Nevada.
Pet Peeve #2: The Ugly Photographer
Notice I haven’t mentioned the sorts of behaviours that get spread all over social media these days: the idiots (let’s be honest) who approach dangerous animals or enter environmentally sensitive areas to get selfies. While these kinds of things are certainly damaging (not least to our collective self-respect!), I think they are still pretty rare. So I don’t join in the public shaming on social media. But the desire to document everything shows no signs of slowing, resulting in problems more subtle and insidious than charging buffalo.
WILDLIFE & THE GOLDEN RULE
I’d like to throw light on something I’ve observed with increasing frequency in parks. While not as outright stupid as the tourist who wants a picture of his child next to a wild animal, it’s nevertheless very thoughtless and selfish. First of all, despite our frequent cluelessness, the great majority of animals do not react to us aggressively at all. The bad behaviour of photographers, whether they’re slinging a huge lens or holding up a cell phone, is almost always ignored. But think about it. We can still make life very difficult for the beings who call our parks home.
Every single day in the parks, wild animals are forced to endure a never-ending procession of tourists who think it’s okay to completely disrupt their lives to get photos. For example, when bison or elk try to cross the road at Yellowstone, usually to access water or food, tourists routinely block the way in order to get photos. I’ve seen the same thing done to black bears at the Great Smokies. I’ve tried to get people to see what they’re doing, but have only gotten angry retorts. Nobody likes to be called out no matter how diplomatic you try to be.
I spent quite awhile near this young bull elk, letting him get comfortable with me. He was laying down, resting in the forest just a few yards from the road but invisible to all the passing people.
I know the good people who read this blog wouldn’t dream of doing this, but it’s easy to get caught up in the moment. Put yourself in the animals’ places and consider how you’d respond to a stranger barging into your home, blocking your way to the frig while you’re trying to get something to eat or drink. And just to get a stupid picture. I don’t mean to rant or lecture too much. Most people are conscientious. They just need to hit the pause button once in awhile and think about what they’re doing.
Next week we’ll conclude this little series on the two sides of national parks. Take it easy out there and shoot mellow.
Grand Canyon is the 2nd most visited park in the country, but if you’re willing to drive a long gravel road, the north rim’s Toroweap area is much quieter.
The Milky Way rises over Wheeler Peak in Great Basin National Park, Nevada.
If you’ve been following this blog for quite awhile you know I used to post some night-time starscapes. Not as many as some photogs., but some. Over the past couple years I can count on one hand the night shots I’ve done. Shooting the Milky Way in particular has not interested me in the slightest.
I still love watching the stars, and very much miss my telescope (which I had to sell). But to stay up into the wee hours shooting requires real motivation and interest, and it just has not been there for me in recent times. I mostly blame it on the fact that too many other people shoot the stars. The Milky Way especially has been done to death, appearing over every conceivable foreground subject. It’s called astrophotography now, which is in my opinion a misnomer.
Real astrophotography; that is, deep field images of cosmological objects like nebulae, clusters and the like, is a completely different sort of photography than the wide-angle shots you see so much of these days, the ones that include the landscape below. I dabbled in real astrophotography some years back. But after quickly realizing that getting quality images requires very expensive equipment, I decided to stick with simple observation through my telescope.
I’m not criticizing wide-field night photography at all. I usually call the resulting images starscapes (or nightscapes). They’re perfectly valid and often very beautiful when done right. It’s just not astrophotography. While the subjects for the two overlap, astrophotography is a separate genre that uses radically different focal lengths along with different equipment and techniques.
This image represents the first time in a long while that I’ve put forth the effort to capture a starscape. For the methods I used, see the addendum below. The skies of Great Basin National Park in eastern Nevada are very dark and clear. It was my first time to this park, and the warm temperatures combined with clear weather made it an opportunity too good to pass up.
I hiked up into the high alpine area of the park, to an amazing grove of ancient bristlecone pines which sit at the base of 13,159-foot Wheeler Peak. These are the oldest living trees on Earth. They can grow to more than 5000 years of age! My idea was to capture one or several bristlecone pines as foreground, but I ended up liking the simpler compositions of mountain and stars better. I rolled out a sleeping bag and slept out there in the bristlecones for a couple nights in a row. I hadn’t slept under the stars for a long time, so that part was at least as much fun as the photography.
To make the image above I used my tracking mount to follow the stars. This is a compact unit that mounts onto the tripod and allows your camera to follow the apparent motion of the stars, lengthening exposure time while keeping things sharp. First off I exposed for the sky: three shots in a vertical panorama, shutter time a bit over a minute each (set on bulb).
I needed to do the panorama because I was using my 50 mm. Zeiss lens. It’s sharp and allows an aperture as wide as f/1.4, but it really isn’t wide enough for the Milky Way. I then turned tracking off and took a separate exposure of the partly moonlit landscape for about the same time.
In Photoshop I combined the two in a composite image that represents pretty much what I observed. Some starscape composites represent combined dusk (or even daytime) foreground subjects plus a night sky captured hours later. I’ve done those too but I prefer my images to represent a single moment in time. In order to give the image a little more “punch”, after the sky and land were combined I raised raise contrast and clarity. It’s because the moon, though a crescent, was washing out the sky to a degree.
My goal in photography is almost always to capture the reality of being there. But pictures are two-dimensional and usually rather small. That’s why I often edit for more punch or impact (not always, many times I go for a softer feel). It’s to give some idea of what it is like to sit out there in the silence among the gnarled bristlecones, perched on a big boulder of quartzite peering up at the dome of an enormous night sky, with the sheer glacier-carved wall of Wheeler Peak above me and the Milky Way standing on end behind it.
Have a great week ahead and happy shooting!
Sunrise over the Continental Divide, Rocky Mtn. NP, Colorado.
After several weeks of relatively involved Foto Talks, I’m in the mood for short and sweet this week. As my annual pass to National Parks (NPs) expires, I’m trying to decide when (or even if) I should buy another one. I probably will. But it’s made me consider all that I love (and all that I don’t) about America’s National Parks. I’d love to hear what you think of my likes or dislikes. Or if you have any of your own you’d like to add. So fire away in the comments!
On the Ute Trail, Trail Ridge, Rocky Mtn. NP, Colorado, in the very early morning when all my fellow hikers are behind me, to be met on my return hike.
National Parks are photo-worthy. Of course it’s easy to like the scenery and wildlife of the parks. It’s mostly why they were protected in the first place. Nearly all of the parks are photogenic.
NPs are crowded. All that beauty and wildlife draws a lot of visitors. Nearly all of the parks have seen steady increases over the past few decades. And with recent drops in the price of gas, people are on the road, flocking to the parks. Visitation is exploding. Of course a few parks have always been busy: Yosemite, Great Smokies, Grand Canyon.
But two fairly recent trends are bothersome, at least for those of us with some history in the parks. One is the increase in off-season visitation. Another is exploding visitation in parks like Zion and Rocky Mountain (which has recently leapfrogged both Yosemite and Yellowstone). Even small, out-of-the-way parks like Great Basin (which I recently visited) can get busy in summertime.
Colorful rocks and the lichen that like them high up in Rocky Mtn. NP, Colorado.
NPs are diverse. Most parks are all about mountains, forests and streams. Others are more famous for their wildlife. But many others feature history or pre-history. The newest unit, Stonewall National Monument in New York, even celebrates LGBT (gay) rights.
NPs attract very non-diverse visitors. I don’t know how much of a dislike this is because I think it’s slowly changing. But parks are lily white. Black Americans in particular are few and far between, especially in the big nature-dominated parks of the west. Latinos are beginning to visit in greater numbers, probably because they have families to entertain. But they’re also under-represented.
A mated pair of pronghorn (which are not true antelope) in Wyoming well outside of any NP.
So-called cave shields in Lehman Caves, Great Basin NP, Nevada.
NPs are managed for people. Most parks go out of their way to make parks accessible to everyone. And this includes the disabled. It’s actually in their charter. They were created with a dual purpose in mind, which if you think about it is a pretty difficult pair of opposing values to simultaneously succeed at.
But they do a good job. There are accessible trails and fishing platforms at Yellowstone and other parks, for example. Roads give access to the best attractions, and lodging plus camping allow staying inside the park (as long as you make reservations early enough).
NPs attract all sorts of people. Here’s a sad fact: many people bring way too much with them when they go on vacation, yet they routinely leave common sense at home. People arrive ready to have a good time, and that’s fine. But for so many, a good time means getting loud and raucous. You won’t see the same people in a NP that you see at a trailhead for a remote wilderness area, getting ready to hike in for a week of self-sufficient existence. That doesn’t mean you won’t find these hikers in NPs (I for one, haha!). It’s just a numbers thing.
In nature, around wildlife especially, being the typical noisy human being is simply not appropriate. It ruins the atmosphere and impacts all sorts of creatures, including other humans. But sadly it’s all too typical. Many young people don’t learn how to have a different sort of good time until well into adulthood. It’s one of the things I am thankful for. I learned early on.
Next time we will continue with some general advice on shooting in national parks. Happy weekend everybody!
Dusk falls at Bluebird Lake in the alpine terrain of a less-traveled area of Rocky Mtn. NP, Colo.
The sun has just gone down over the high prairie of Wyoming.
This was a sunset I shot on the spur of the moment while driving through the South Pass area of Wyoming a couple days ago. I didn’t realize then that it would be the last time I would see clouds and colorful skies for awhile. It’s been clear as a bell since, and the weather forecast for the entire western U.S. shows nothing but cloudless skies and hot weather for the foreseeable future.
I almost didn’t stop. But the light was so nice I couldn’t stop myself from pulling off on the shoulder and running up a nearby slope. There were low outcrops poking out of the prairie, tilted layers of sandstone covered with colorful lichen. It was the only foreground available in the open rolling terrain of southwestern Wyoming.
South Pass is where Interstate 80 passes over the Continental Divide. It’s by far the lowest and gentlest pass through the Rocky Mountains in North America. There are gentle passes to the south in New Mexico, but that is where the Rockies begin to peter out. South Pass has high rugged ranges both to the south and north.
I usually try to avoid interstates because of the dominance of tractor trailers, the difficulty of stopping when I see a shot, and because they generally pass through boring terrain compared to minor highways. I made an exception this time and chose South Pass because my van is running very hot on hills and needs to be looked at. The engine is almost new, so I’m not too happy about it. I’m headed back to the mechanic.
I hope everyone has had a fantastic weekend. Have a great week ahead!
A recent shot from a lovely place in the Colorado Rockies called Bluebird Lake.
Let’s follow-up on the topic point of view (POV) and in particular last week’s Foto Talk on ethics and legality. As you begin to dream up and try a wide variety of positions to shoot from, you’ll find yourself getting more deeply involved with it. It’s what photography is all about. But before you get lost in the moment, take another moment to consider the following cautionary tales. The phrase “safety comes first”, after all, applies to photography like it does to any undertaking.
Flowers grow on a lichen-covered rock outcrop at 11,000 feet in Rocky Mtn. National Park, Colorado.
POV & Safety: People
- Property Territoriality. I mentioned last week how you might run afoul of property owners or officials. Yet anybody could take strong exception to your shooting near their “territory”. One time in a lonely rural area I was getting some sunset shots. Not far away was a farm house. I was on the side of a county road, not even pointing the camera directly at the house. But driving away in the gathering dark I noticed a guy following me in a pickup. He continued for quite awhile until I stopped, got out and challenged him (something I don’t recommend). Later I was pulled over by a cop (the guy had called) and had to explain who I was and what I was doing.
While shooting this barn in central Oregon I was approached by the owner who told me I was on a private road. I was honest about my reason for being there and he let me shoot away.
- Compositional Territoriality. It’s not always property owners who have issues. You can also get in the way of other photographers too. Although I generally shy away from popular locations and subjects and so don’t run into many others, on occasion I have inadvertently stepped in the way of a fellow shooter. Some of these guys (they’re always guys) are extremely possessive of “their” compositions (see bottom image). I don’t know why but they seem to like shining flashlights or (worse) laser pointers at me in a sort of passive aggressive way. Weird.
- See Below for more on staying safe in populated areas.
Dusk falls at Bluebird Lake. I balanced on the edge for this shot ’cause I wanted a POV highlighting the metamorphic rock textures in the foreground.
- Stay Cool. I probably don’t have to tell you that situations involving angry people can spin quickly out of control. But if you remain relatively calm and listen to what the person is saying you’ll thank yourself later.
- Be Honest. It’s always best to state honestly what you’re doing. If you try to obfuscate in any way you’ll just put yourself under suspicion.
- Be Sensitive but Firm. I try to strike a balance between (1) being sensitive to both the law and to people’s concerns and (2) being firm about my right to be on public property and my right to use (especially to keep!) my camera gear.
- Know when to Walk Away. I don’t always handle people the way I later realize I should have. The main thing I’ve done wrong in the past is to not apologize and walk away when someone gets very angry. Apologize even if you don’t think you’re in the right. If they won’t let you go and want to get physical, just pull out your phone and dial 911.
St. Vrain River, Colorado.
POV & Safety: Animals
People are obviously the biggest danger, but other animals can be dangerous as well (see what I did there?). How close to that buffalo do you really need to be? Seems we read on a weekly basis about tourists getting hurt when they get too near buffalo or other wild animals in Yellowstone Park. And it’s not just tourists. Pro photographers with not enough wildlife experience or common sense get too close. Don’t take domestic animals too lightly either. For example I give Brahma bulls more respect than most wild animals.
This large African elephant in the Okavango Delta gave us a fright when he bluff charged.
- Learn. Start by reading about your animal subjects, paying particular attention to body language, territorial behaviours, “comfort distances” and related info. But remember to take anything you learn on the internet or in books as a general guide only. Animals are like people. It’s not just that each individual is unique; it’s that each situation you find it in is unique. Animal behaviour depends not just on instinct but on the individual and its circumstances.
- Observe. There is no substitute for careful observation of body language while you’re anywhere near a potentially dangerous animal. Don’t approach until you take a good look. For example, ears back is a common warning sign with prey animals. For predators you may get ears back if they’re feeling defensive, or ears forward and alert if they’re on the hunt.
- Go Slow. Approaching slowly will not only avoid frightening the animal and blowing your chances, it will also give the animal a chance to get comfortable and keep it from becoming defensive. It will also allow you more time to observe your quarry and stop if a behaviour indicates you should. As a rule you should never turn your back on or run from any potentially dangerous animal. There are exceptions to this however.
I’ve posted this one before, but it shows so well how animals use body language to warn you about getting any closer (arched tail).
POV & the Blinder Effect
- The blinder effect is when you are dialed in to what you’re doing, changing positions and POV. Our minds are on the shot, not on possible dangers.
- As photographers we are more vulnerable than the average person. To see why, let’s take mountain lions as an example. If you’re a smaller man or a woman you need to be particularly careful in cougar country. But even if you’re big and ugly like me, think about it. As a photographer we often choose to shoot near dawn or dusk when the light is good. And that’s when most predators are active. Further, we tend to crouch down (making ourselves smaller) with faces pressed to the camera instead of directed toward danger.
- In populated areas, simply substitute the word mugger for cougar and the situations are perfectly parallel.
It’s not just when they’re the subjects that wildlife is a potential danger. On a couple occasions I’ve been so focused on a landscape shot that I allowed a curious animal to approach me quite closely. Depending of course on the animal and the situation, this could be either a pleasant surprise or a dangerous development. For example cougars inhabit even populated areas. And don’t forget venomous snakes. Adjusting POV often means walking through tall grass or thick brush.
This Komodo dragon on the island of Rinca, Indonesia snuck up on me while I was photographing a bigger one. It’s a bit chilling to be stalked.
- Urban Areas: In cities, wandering into a sketchy neighborhood near dark is easy to do when chasing a shot. I did it in Kuala Lumpur once while trying for a photo of the Petronas Towers at blue hour (dusk). That is, until a kind local noticed and let me know I was putting myself (or at least all my camera gear) at risk. I got a shot but it wasn’t right, so next night I did something different (see image).
Not as famous as the Petronas Towers, but still worth shooting, the Kuala Lumpur Tower & the perfect POV on my hotel’s roof. I don’t think I was supposed to be there.
- Remote Areas: One reason I like wilderness areas is because there’s normally no need to worry about other people. But the other side of that coin means you are more vulnerable if a bad character does appear. Several years ago I was in Colombia on a hike through a jungle known for its bandits. I stopped to watch some very cool-looking monkeys. There was a small noise and I turned around to find that two young native guys with machetes had caught right up to me. Chills went down my spine. But happily they turned out to be friendly and we ended up hiking together. One even climbed a tree and used his machete to cut a huge fresh papaya down (yummy!).
For the blinder effect there is really just one solution: Be Aware of your Surroundings. Take your face away from the camera and look around from time to time, particularly in lonely places.
I feel like I’ve sounded a tone that’s a bit too paranoid. We all know what can result from too much fear: paralysis. In fact you’ll probably never run into most of these situations. But they are worth being ready for in the same way that it’s wise to prepare for a natural disaster that’ll probably never happen. So be careful out there, just not too careful. Shoot with as many POVs as you think is necessary. Practice awareness and common sense and all will be well. Have a great weekend!
At Utah’s Deadhorse Point, a popular spot, I showed up very early (rare for me). While shooting this gnarled juniper a guy who arrived after me but apparently wanted the same shot circled around trying various ways to hurry me.
Sunrise over Brainard Lake, Rocky Mountain Front Range, Colorado.
I’ve been stranded with vehicle problems lately but it has not been all bad. I’m in a beautiful place, near to Rocky Mountain National Park. Now this is not the most out of the way place I’ve ever been. In fact Rocky (the name locals use for the park) is now the third most popular national park in the country, visited by more people than either Yosemite and Yellowstone. So it can get very crowded, especially on summer weekends.
Besides visiting during the week, there are a few ways to avoid most crowds at Rocky. One is to go over to the west side of the park, in particular staying away from Bear Lake, the most popular destination within the park. Another is to go hiking but to summon the energy and continue on up the trails, past popular destinations in order to get more solitude.
But an alternative is simply to not enter the park at all. The Rocky Mountains don’t stop at the park boundary and public land (mostly Forest Service) extends in three directions. I’ve been checking out a few nearby natural areas recently, mostly to see something different. As I suspected most of these places are also very crowded on weekends. But since they mostly attract locals, they tend to be quieter than the park during the week.
It’s peaceful along the Colorado River in the western part of Rocky Mtn. National Park.
Brainard Lake Recreation Area
One place that is hard not to be impressed with is Brainard Lake Recreation Area. It’s only 35 miles south of Rocky, about an hour’s drive down the Peak to Peak Highway. A busy campground (get there early or reserve a spot) is located conveniently just below Brainard Lake itself. Several small picnic areas are scattered about, and fishing is popular. In recent years a population of moose has moved in. Popular with wildlife photographers, these are Shiras moose, the smallest subspecies. Although definitely smaller than Alaskan moose, bulls can reach 1200 pounds and are dangerous in the fall rut.
The area is also famous for its hiking. Several trails head up into the Indian Peaks Wilderness to beautiful alpine lakes. Energetic hikers and peak baggers continue up the spectacular valleys past glacial tarns and on up to rugged granitic mountains. The hikes tend to be strenuous because of the altitude, but distances are not great. For example I hiked to Blue Lake and it was just 5 miles round-trip with 900 feet elevation gain.
Colorado Columbine on one of the trails of Brainard Lake Recreation Area.
Another amazing hike I can personally recommend is Isabelle Glacier. In 8 3/4 miles you gain 1750 feet. This takes you past two lakes, including lovely Lake Isabelle. Hike beyond this lake and you’ll drop most other hikers, passing flower meadows and a high tarn before climbing into a huge amphitheater surrounded by soaring peaks, snowfields and waterfalls.
Lake Isabelle and Indian Peaks, Colorado.
A family of ducks paddles across Red Rock Lake.
But several of the images here are from the lowest of the area’s lakes, and my favorite. Red Rock Lake lies on the road to Brainard Lake, and most people blow right by it, in a hurry to get to their destinations. It’s a peaceful spot that attracts waterfowl, and has a nice view of Indian Peaks from the east shore. It’s quite a photogenic place, despite not being as spectacular as the high, hike-in lakes, which are closer to the peaks. But because of the red rocks and a partial cover of water lilies I think Red Rock is more visually interesting than many of the area’s lakes.
Thanks for reading, have a great week, and happy shooting!
Beautiful Red Rock Lake, Colorado.