Gone Viral

 

The group in silhouette, Redwall Cavern

I’ve just resurfaced from my 9^th raft trip in the Grand Canyon.  I have a few observations.

 

My last few trips were different. Easier.  They were gatherings of smaller groups (12 vs 23), shorter duration (10 vs 14 days) and we moved down the river on motorized rafts.  This last thing is relevant because they travel faster and there’s relatively less time on the water, as well as the drier experience of riding higher and more security for my camera gear.  Yes, I have insurance, but that won’t help if my gear tanks on day two. One of the rafts is paddled, as well, which (though fun) means more work as six guests and a guide propel the boat.  Really, though, I think age is beginning to catch up with me.  Ouch.

 

Long time readers might remember that I’ve been threatening to stop doing these trips for some time.  So much for my credibility, but I’ll commit to the following; if I do it again, I’ll do it the easy way.

 

Metallic light, Hot Na Na Camp

It’s tempting to lead with the hardships but let’s talk about the good stuff.  Being in the bottom of the Grand Canyon is a rare and precious gift.  Light plays across the walls and water through the day and night.  The stars are breathtaking. Nothing smells like the river corridor and cocktails taste better. Wildlife is everywhere, and I find I have the time and motivation to notice lizards, bighorn sheep, peregrines, osprey.

 

After a few days, I’m fully immersed in the experience.  Removed from the details and chaos of “rim life,” I learn about what remains (which I believe is who I really am.)

 

We scheduled this trip with three friends, and the chance for the five of us to hang out in this special setting was priceless. We made some new friends, too.

 

The elegant dory cuts through Lava Falls Rapid

Photographing five of the six boats coming through Lava Falls Rapid was a highlight for sure. 

 

Granite Rapid detail

I also loved experimenting with different ways to show the power and chaos of Granite Rapid.

 

But,

 

We had wind, gusting to about 50 mph.  We saw actual waterspouts on the river, and anyone who has camped in sand can imagine what that night was like.  The wind makes some tricky rapids more treacherous.  The Trip Leader, in an abundance of caution, waited a couple of hours for a let-up (which we didn’t get) above Hance Rapid.  What I didn’t want to share with the group is that there was a death on the river last season which was partly attributable to wind.  Ultimately our skilled professional guides brought us through safely, though.

 

Particulate-enhanced light near Grapevine Camp

The wind created some lovely light, filtering though the dust.

 

What about the virus, you ask? On day 7, four of the six guides woke up with vomiting and diarrhea.  By that night two more of us were ill. Eventually there were 8 of 30, which is very good containment for what was likely the very contagious Noro virus.  The Park Service is apparently still investigating the situation, so there’s a lot we don’t know.  I’ll follow up and amend this post if I can convince them to tell me anything.  Bottom line: the guides heroically rowed the big rapids while ill and I lost a couple of days napping instead of doing anything requiring any effort.  There were several days when I didn’t take any usable pictures at all.

 

Moonset and Diamond Peak at dawn, river mile 222

I have no regrets, now that I look at the trip with some perspective, home with my dog and electric toothbrush.

 

Marco doing the thing, near South Canyon

More favorite images are in the Spring 2022 Gallery on the website.

Publication

 

Moon set, Watson Lake, Prescott AZ

As my friend Paul Gill says, it never gets old.

 

There are lots of reasons that photography is my passion.  I’ve talked a bit about this in other posts; photography is a meditation, a creative outlet, a chance to spend as much time as possible outdoors, a way to support my favorite nonprofits,

 

Another is the desire to share my vision with others. Conservation is certainly one of my goals, and I believe that the more folks can see the beauty of the natural world, the more they will value it. Social media and my website have been a huge boon, but there’s nothing like the impact and reach of publications people can hold in their hands.

 

Fisherman at dawn, Lake Atitlan Guatemala

This is my first published image, from 2010, which appeared in Budget Travel Magazine.

 

Hand Planes photographed for Popular Woodworking Magazine

Since then, I’ve had the honor of work published in several magazines as well as some unexpected places like Popular Woodworking and American Surveyor Magazines (collaborations with my husband Marco), Vermont Magazine, and a cover of the Wilderness Medical Society Journal. Now that my husband is an avid fly fisherman, I’m working on capturing images for that magazine niche, too. I’m not too much into competitions anymore, but some of those have led to appearances (and sometimes nice prizes) in federal lands publications and those of my favorite Grand Canyon Raft outfitter, Arizona Raft Adventures. 

 

My main client now is Arizona Highways Magazine, a first-rate 97-year-old publication of, surprisingly, the Arizona Department of Transportation. I can honestly say that I love working with them.

 

Fishing in Mogollon Rim Country AZ

How does it work?  I get this question a lot.  First, I needed to get the attention of Jeff Kida, the photo editor.  I’m not quite sure how that happened, except that we had some friends in common, I started sending some of my work to him, and I nagged.  The first step was to be added to the Stock Call List, so I would get emails asking for images of some specific place or thing, or in the case of the annual calendar call, we’re invited to send our best Arizona work which he’d not yet seen.  Sometimes Jeff will give me an assignment to shoot something specific.  I laugh a little when I remember being asked to shoot a desert location in July for the magazine, but I’m thrilled to have had the opportunity. I know, too, that he keeps work on file; I’m sometimes surprised to have a request to use an image which is more than five years old.

 

Speaking of surprises, I remember a conversation with Pete Ensenberger (the previous photo editor) when I asked for advice about getting published.  There was– lots of it, but I particularly remember him saying that I should only submit things that I would be proud to see in print, because I’m sure to be surprised sometimes at what he chooses. That’s certainly proven to be true.

 

Dead Horse Ranch State Park AZ

One surprising benefit of the stock call system is that it creates a project for me that can reach beyond creating new work for the magazine.  This winter there was a stock call for the piece in the May issue about Arizona State Parks.  I submitted previous work, but also made several trips to Alamo Lake (including a morning paddle at sub-freezing temperatures) and Dead Horse Ranch.  I’m not sure I would have done all of that otherwise, and I’m glad for the bump to my motivation and focus.

 

Alamo Lake State Park AZ

One of the Alamo images was selected, as were some from my neighborhood state trail, the Granite Mountain Hotshot Memorial State Park.

 

I agree with Paul; it never gets old.

Lessons Learned

 

Weekend accommodations

Well, my friend Kim and I have had another trip to the Desert Photo Retreat in Southern Arizona.  I blogged about it after last year’s trip.  Again we managed to hit the one unseasonably warm weekend in March, but other than that the trip was delightful.

 

I learned so much.

 

He seemed surprised to see us

First, emotion.  I’ve been thinking on and off about the challenge of conveying emotion in images of landscapes and of details in the natural world.  It can be done but is a rather subtle thing.  Shooting at the Retreat gave me a chance to approach the challenge with critters instead.  We perceive emotion in faces naturally, including those of animals.

 

Thirsty house finch

During the always fascinating Out of Chicago Live conference this month, one presentation addressed the rewards of photographing common things that are often overlooked.  The presenter used dandelions as an example. I decided, while shooting from the Retreat’s blinds, not to overlook common things like squirrels and house finches.  Once I took some time to look at the “dandelions, there was so much to see.

 

Striped skunk and blooming brittlebush

Finally, I got out of my comfort zone, learning to use my new Pluto trigger for camera trapping.  Thank goodness for Ron, who’s very experienced and a great troubleshooter. His suggestion about a setting buried deep in my camera’s menu fixed a problem so the second night shooting could be successful.  Kim helped me to remember that what I learned that first night is more important than the shots I might have missed.  Speaking of Kim, because of all the equipment that she brought along, we managed to set up three stations on the second night and had some nice shots.

 

I’m inspired to start working on this project in my own back yard, where we have quite a few mammals running around at night; fox, bobcat, skunk, racoon, javalina, and the occasional mountain lion.  Stay tuned.

 

We’ve booked three nights for next year to give us an even better chance at (ahem) education.

 

More favorites are in the Spring 2022 Gallery on the website.

Winds of Change

 

The Raven at the edge of the wilderness

I’ve really said enough about the wind in the Mojave Desert.  Blah blah blah.  I’ll just say that the sprinter is much more wind-stable in camp, which leads to a better night’s sleep.

A month or so ago I contacted the Needles CA BLM office and had a lovely conversation with a ranger there.  She helped me plan a boondocking visit to the edge of a wilderness area in Mojave Trails National Monument which had been on my list for years.  She was generous with her time and knowledge as I followed along with her on Google Earth.  She even invited me to call if I had more questions, which I will of course.

Cactus Detail, Mojave Trails NM

I wanted quiet places, and we got them.  We could hear the trains, but otherwise I’m sure there was nobody within 10-15 miles of us. These areas are a little stark, photographically. In my world, that’s nothing more than a fun challenge.

Streambed geology, Mojave Trail NM

The first night we were at my Ranger friend’s pick, a quiet spot with fascinating geology.

Bonanza Spring, Mojave Trails NM

Then we moved on to a small perennial spring.  I was staked out in the viewing area for hours, expecting (as dry as the weather has been) to see wildlife, but saw just a few small birds and heard the distant yip of coyotes just before dawn.

Speaking of dry weather, in three nights we didn’t see a single wildflower.  The first spot has fairly heavy growth of brittlebush, but not a single bloom.  I’ll need to go back there in a wetter year.

Mid Hills area, Mojave National Monument

The temperature got up into the 80s that second day, and we decided to go to a higher altitude for our last night.  We’d tried Mid Hills Campground in the Mojave National Preserve before, but had turned back on the muddy roads on the way in.  This trip we only needed to brave the washboards.  We had a spectacular campsite in the piñon juniper forest with views. The wind had abated and at 5600 ft elevation it was a great day for reading and exploring. 

The family, Mojave National Monument

Three entirely new places and some soul-cleansing peace; what more could a girl want? Change is good; wind not so much.

As always, there are more images on the website.

All Better

Sunrise near Twin Peaks Campground, Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument

I forgot my tripods.  Not such an auspicious beginning to a solo road trip, but there are quite a few possible mistakes and omissions on a trip like this and I'm working up to making them all, ideally not all at once. I can laugh now, but I’ll admit that when I realized they weren’t in the van I might have been a bit frustrated. Oh, well.  Lessons learned.

This voyage materialized around meeting a Tucson-based friend to camp a couple of days at Cochise Stronghold.  There seemed no harm in hitting southern Arizona on my own before our rendezvous.

Alamo Campground

I grabbed one of the four spots at first come - first served Alamo Campground in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. If I were superstitious I’d say that was significant omen of good luck.  I managed to use rocks and my camera bag as makeshift tripods and to use photo-voodoo (higher ISO, shallow depth of field, image stabilization, and shooting in bursts) to bridge the gap.  Oh, and it seemed the perfect time to do some ICM.

Backlight on the Desert View Trail, Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument

As tempted as I was to stay there, I moved to Twin Peaks Campground; 200+ spaces of parking lot purgatory.  I had an agenda for hiking and shooting nearby.  Last season I was shooting the (highly recommended) Ajo Mountain Loop for a magazine and made four trips around the 21-mile loop in a little over a day.  As much as I love that drive, I decided to explore other areas instead.

4-foot Border Wall Near Quitobaquito, 2018

30-foot Border Wall Near Quitobaquito, 2022

I had my first look at the 30-foot border wall on my way out. ORPI is so close to the border that I got a text from Verizon welcoming me to Mexico. I have lots of thoughts about the wall, but will let the image speak for itself. There’s no sense stirring the political pot here.

My friend who lives in Ajo was kind enough to offer her driveway to me and the Raven for a night.  She’s a ranger (though she’d say she’s more of an administrator) at the Monument. We shared wine (always a plus), took a little ride around town in her mini, and she was kind enough to share her insights about her park and its proximity to the international border. Check out the Sonoran Desert Inn for art and accommodations if you're in town.

Sunset on the Grasslands, Cochise Stronghold

I met Jeff at the Horseshoe Café in Benson.  A burger lunch tasted good after three nights of camping.  It seemed the right season to camp in Southern Arizona, and it really was my turn to come his way.  I loved my first real trip to the Dragoon Mountains.  These expansive oak grasslands are typical of Southern Arizona and offer a nice change for me. All the granitic rocks multiply the photographic possibilities, too, and what a joy to be dispersed camping, catching up with a friend.

And Jeff loaned me a tripod.  All better.

Yucca Sunrise, Cochise Stronghold

The road was just rough enough for me to appreciate the competence of the van’s suspension.  As is typical, it worsened as we got further out. The Raven did great.

Electric sunset, Cochise Stronghold

Not for the first time, nor the last, we were reminded that a sunset might not be a bust when I think it is.  We turned over the idea of giving up on the overcast afternoon when this started to happen. I’m feeling humble, and fortunate.

Thanks for riding along. Lets see what I can forget next time.

More images are in the Southern Arizona Gallery on the website.

A Tropical Heat Wave

 

I woke up around 3:30AM for the usual reasons and saw that the temperature outside was 15F.  We had planned for something more like the upper 20s, which is what we’d experienced the last two nights, and had neglected the diesel fuel additive which prevents gelling.  I’m new to this diesel stuff (DEF was just a 20-something cute abbreviation a couple of months ago, as in “I’m def going to the party tonight”) but did know that our owner’s manual says that gelling can happen at around 14F.  I’m thinking it’s a bad thing.  So, we ran the engine and had quality time reading email and playing wordle for a while.  Eventually we got back to sleep, and when I got up to hike out in the dark for the crescent moon set it had warmed to 16.  As I piled on every layer I could find, I was blessed with an earworm (you guessed it), Irving Berlin’s Heat Wave.  After all, it had warmed up one degree.  The song stuck with me for the next couple of hours.

Moonrise over Marble Canyon AZ

I was reminded that a night like that one, almost 10 years ago, convinced me that I needed something more than an SUV to camp in.  At least we were comfortable sleeping this trip.  We heat with diesel too, though, so I imagine that gelled fuel also wouldn’t be so great for keeping us warm.

Morning backlight, Marble Canyon AZ

While campgrounds are quieter in winter, at least in most places, they’re still campgrounds.  Between a couple of local trips and the big Northern California trip, I’d had about enough of them.  We were thrilled to meet some camping photographer friends in a delightfully isolated place for a few days.  You know they’re good friends because I shared some of my secret places.

 

In any case, we all lived to tell about the heat wave.

Moonrise, Watson Lake, Arizona

In other news, I had a lovely quick trip to Watson Lake for the rising of the full moon.  Come to think of it, that was cold, too.

Predawn light at Alamo Lake AZ

And a quick overnighter at Alamo Lake.

The Raven at Alamo Lake

And finally, despite the learning curve, we’re still loving the Raven; the space, the views, the pleasure in driving.  I just smile when people say it reminds them of Mad Max.

 

Stumbled Upon

 

Boondocking with the Raven in the Harquahala Mountains AZ

Well, I’m happy to report that the first solo mission in the Raven came off without a hitch.  I thought it would be a good idea to get comfortable with the new rig in a familiar, close-by environment, so I headed for the Harquahala Mountains, about an hour from home.

 

Unconventional light, Harquahala Mountains AZ

It’s been a while, and I’d forgotten how good solo boondocking is for clearing my mind.  I got thinking about how crowded some of the famous photo spots have gotten over the last decade or so. Largely, this has to do with the Instagram syndrome.  For me, the crush of humanity makes the time I spend in nature much less pleasant.

 

Tortured trees, Humboldt County CA

So lately I’ve been seeking out quiet places and just wandering around to see what I might stumble upon (figuratively, most of the time.) I choose what I think will be (photographic) target-rich environments and end up shooting more of the quieter, smaller scenes that have lately come to be called intimate landscapes. Not only can I avoid throngs of people, but I’m much less likely to make an image that we’ve all seen many times before.

 

Chollas reaching warp speed, Harquahala Mountains AZ

Another path to creativity in these quiet places is to ask the “What if” questions that Coleen Miniuk talked about in her last “Dear Bubbles” post.  It’s good to color outside the lines sometimes.  Here's one example; an image of cholla cactus with backlight.  I moved the camera during the exposure just to see what would happen.  They look to me as if they’re accelerating to warp speed.

 

Soft light and fog, Clear Lake CA

Sometimes I wonder whether I’m missing something, or whether I should be following the crowd.  Then I remember the peace and creativity that comes with stumbling and I carry on.

 

Color in the fog, Sonoma County CA

So, I posted some examples from the last month or so here for fun. More from the winter shoots so far are in the current Winter Gallery on the website.