How’s Your Butt?

Paddling out from the rental house into the fog, Pine Island Pond Texas

Kayak seats, like bicycle seats, are notoriously uncomfortable and become more so with time perched on their sadistic surfaces.  Coincidentally, the rented car we picked up at Shreveport Louisiana was almost as bad.  My friend had the brilliant idea that we should see what might help us with the car, and with the kayaks we’d be dropping into the next day.  We went to Walmart, in the automotive department.  After a very dignified session testing the little cushions by sitting on the floor, we dropped $35 each without regrets.

We met two more friends, and made a trip to Walmart in Marshall  Texas so that they could pick up matching pads for the car, the boats, and (if I’m honest) for the dining room chairs in our lovely rental house on the lake. Some of us amused ourselves by repeatedly inquiring as to the comfort of each other’s derrieres. Old lady humor at its best.

Majestic Bald Cypress in Monotone, Pine Island Pond, Texas

So we were back to Caddo Lake, where we had paddled and photographed together twice before.  This time, in a brilliant stroke which I can’t claim credit for, we were in a rented house. This place was spectacular, right on an alcove off the bayou called, idyllically, Pine Island Pond.  It was as much of an upgrade from the previous accommodations as the Walmart cushions were.  Among other things, we could roll right out of bed, into our tall muck boots, and into the kayaks (with seat cushions, of course).  No hoisting the boats into the pickup and strapping them down, no driving in the predawn gloom. 

The dock at our rental

Pine Island Pond itself is one of the more lovely areas I’ve seen around the lake and offered access to a network of paddling trails (conveniently marked to prevent disorientation) which are spectacular as well.

We planned the trip nearly a year ago, and unfortunately, we couldn’t know that it would be a poor year for fall color, despite making our best guess at ideal timing.  There was a cold snap a few weeks before, which triggered the color change early. Most of the trees had already done their thing.

I compensated for the lack of color in several ways.

Great Blue Heron

 First, with wildlife. This is not my specialty, so I concentrated on the large, obvious birds like great blue herons, egrets, and cormorants, and on the occasional pod of turtles sunning on logs.

A little spooky

Then there were some foggy mornings, when spooky compositions held my interest. Even bare trees decorated with Spanish moss (which, it turns out, is neither) were of interest in the mist. Black and White images worked well, too

Leaf Detail, Caddo Lake State Park, Texas

Smooth Beggerticks, Carter Lake Texas

Photographing details is another option when fall color isn’t spectacular.  There are lovely flowering aquatic plants - the white (Floating Heart), purple (Water Hyacinth), and yellow (Smooth Beggarticks) flowers make great subjects but are, unfortunately, invasive species. One day it was very windy, so we shot on land at the state park.

Grace and color, Williamson Park, Louisiana

Finally, when there’s a lone tree which still shows color, I’d happily shoot that.

Incidentally, we dedicated an afternoon to looking for a large alligator.  We’d been tipped off about where he hung out, and that some turtles liked to climb onto his tail to sun themselves.  We really wanted those images, from a distance of course, but we had no luck.

And my keester is just fine, thank you for asking.

As always, there’s more in the Autumn 2025 Gallery on the website.

I Call It Camping

Yellows and Oranges, Fishlake National Forest, Utah

But that’s a bit of a stretch, really.  I’ve done the other kind, sleeping on the ground, maybe in a tent, or sleeping in the back of an SUV.  It was one of the latter trips that got me thinking of alternatives.  The overnight temperature was around 15F, and I spent the night in a sleeping bag, in all the clothes I could find, wrapped in my emergency tarp. By morning there was a layer of ice from my frozen breath on the tarp. I decided I was too old to keep doing that.

After that precious experience, in 2013, we bought a slide-in truck camper made for off-pavement use, called a Four Wheel Camper. We used the heck out of that camper on our Toyota Tundra for eight years.  Since then, we’re in a Sprinter Van which suits our needs a little better but serves the same purpose.

A Story, Fishlake National Forest, Utah

I’ve stolen an idea from a fellow overlander who says that his camping rig is the best piece of photographic equipment he’s even had.  The van allows me to be comfortable and therefore to spend more time in the forests.  There’s heat, a fridge, comfy bed, and solar panels & batteries for charging and running the necessary electronics.  Overlanding puts me out where I want to be, without a lot of driving around in the dark before sunrise or after sunset.  I have the chance to do leisurely, solitary walkabouts and make photogenic discoveries.   I’m more creative when less rushed, and I enjoy the experience so much more. There’s never enough time to explore.

We’re just back from 12 days chasing fall color.  This trip has become an annual tradition.  This year we covered lots of ground in Utah and clipped the corner of Colorado on the way home.

Last gasp of summer after the rain, Kaibab National Forest Arizona

Our first night was in the North Kaibab Forest, mostly to break the trip up.  My plan is to save myself the emotional experience of seeing the Dragon Bravo burn scar until next season. It rained and I sloshed around and got wet a couple of times.

Wind, Fishlake National Forest, Utah

The Southern part of Fishlake National Forest was extraordinary this year.  We laid over for two nights, enjoying the one-two punch of peak timing and the best showing I’ve ever seen there.  Even the clouds were beautiful. I was giddy.

Fishlake National Forest, Utah

These days were perfect, too, for aerial shots of the blazing yellow forest.

First light, Wasatch National Forest, Utah

From there we bit the bullet and made the long drive nearly to the Wyoming border, spending a couple of nights beside the East Fork of the Bear River. The cold weather and our weekday arrival ensured solitude, and I’m told the fishing was good. I treasure layover days, with time to download photos, wash my hair, and attend to camp chores and emails.  Yes, we use Starlink.  If at some point there’s a viable alternative we’ll move, but connectivity is a big part of what makes these longer trips possible.

Fishlake National Forest, Utah

Then we headed to Teasdale Utah and spent a few days in luxury in a rental with shower and laundry facilities.  From there we did day trips to the Northern Fishlake Forest and Dixie National Forest on the slopes of Boulder Mountain.

Speaking of luxury, we had a glorious meal at Hell’s Backbone Grill in the town of Boulder one night.  If you’re ever in the neighborhood (close to the middle of nowhere), don’t miss it.  Reservations are a good idea.

Teasdale, Utah

I’ll assert that there are three ways to do good landscape photography.  The first is careful planning of every detail.  Second, putting myself in a beautiful place at what seems like the right time and seeing what I can find.  The third is just dumb luck.  This image was a that – stumbled upon on the way to somewhere more planned. I love tree tunnels and give bonus points for vivid color and backlight.

San Juan National Forest, Colorado

Finally, we driveway-camped at a gracious friend’s place in Cortez Colorado and had quite a time leaf-peeping in the San Juan National Forest. 

Did I mention that there's never enough time to explore?

I’m grateful for “camping” adventures and the chance to share them.

More images are in the Fall 2025 Gallery on the website.

Top Ten Campsites

 

Sometimes, when my husband and I relax in camp, we’ll have a pointless conversation just for the fun of it.  We’re just back from the annual fall color road trip and happened to stumble on a new campsite which was nearly perfect.  That got us talking about what makes a top ten campsite, and which of our favorites we’d pick.  We’re getting close to 600 nights overlanding, so there are plenty to choose from. 

 

I’ll be a little vague describing some of these locations.  Several of the sites deserve that.  If you know us, and we think you’re a good steward, reach out and we’ll direct you.

 

What makes us happy:

    Solitude and quiet

     A nice view    

     A good surface (grass wins over moon dust or mud)    

     Fishable water nearby

     Close to several great photo opportunities

I’ll present these in no particular order.

North Wasatch National Forest, Utah

This is the place where this discussion began.  We were lulled to sleep by the East Fork of the Bear River and the willows around the river were beautifully yellowed for autumn.  The site was grassy and we couldn’t be easily seen from the road.

 

Mojave Trails National Monument, California

Sand, solitude, and so many photo ops.  I had a hard time choosing from all of my images of this place.

Kaibab National Forest, Crazy Jug Point, Arizona

I’ve been returning to this place for many years.  It’s a great perch to watch a storm at sunset, which is what we did on this spectacular night.

 

Fourth of July Creek, Idaho

A long way from home, but worth the trip.  We’ll get back there one day.  Lovely, grassy, Creekside camping, aspens, flowers, and views of the Sawtooth Mountains.

 

Bear’s Ears National Monument, Utah

We hit this one on the way home as an afterthought.  After 10 days of photographing aspens, the equally lovely oaks up here were a delightful change. 

 

Hell’s Backbone, Utah

If I’m honest, I’ll admit that the campsite itself is small, dusty, and close to the road.  The location and views make up for all of that, and this drone image brings it all back.

 

Tributary of the Black River System, Apache National Forest, Arizona

I’m obliged to keep the details of this one to myself.  The road is a little rough, so we generally don’t have any company other than the trout. In summer there are flowers, too.

 

Butte Valley, Death Valley National Park, California

This one had been on my list for a long time, mostly because of Striped Butte.  A long, bumpy ride was required, but the quiet and the light were more than enough payoff. 

 

Kaibab National Forest, “Aspen Island” Arizona

We made up the name.  We do that often, mostly to have an easy shorthand between us.  Like many sites, we discovered it when we camped next door and found it while hiking around.  The road looks impassable, but we discovered it was not.  We kept returning, and I’m glad we did because this spot was likely destroyed by the Dragon Bravo Fire last summer.

“The Confluence” Apache National Forest, Arizona

More fish.  In a good year there are wildflowers and on a quiet day reflections in the rivers.

 

Thank you for scooting all over the west with me.  Comment with some of your favorite getaways.

Stay tuned for more on the epic Autumn road trip.

The Illusion of Control

 

West Fork Black River, Apache National Forest, AZ

These week-long camping trips allow plenty of time for contemplation.  Here's some of what I've been thinking.

Since the Dragon Bravo Fire, still burning in and north of Grand Canyon after almost two months, I’ve begun to question some of my assumptions.  Whenever I headed home from camping in the North Kaibab Forest, I assumed that it would be there in its usual state when I got back.  I’d make a list of places to revisit or explore next time, fully expecting to have that opportunity. After the last trip, in June, I did just that, and I was wrong.  I am not in control.

I never was.  Our futures are never guaranteed.  Of course, we all know this, but we’re quite skilled at denying the truth.

 Last week, though I longed to be in the Kaibab, we camped in the White Mountains (Apache National Forest) instead.  I had plans.  The weather had different plans.

 

A walk in the rainstorm.  The Raven (sprinter van) is just visible in the background

We love to see thunderstorms in Arizona, especially when the summer rainy season is delayed as it was this year.  On this trip we were confined to the van for big chunks of the day when I, Marco, and Gypsy the Wonder Dog would rather have been out doing our things (photographing, fishing, and sniffing around, respectively).  After the storms, though, it was spectacular.

 

Golden fog after the storm, Apache National Forest, AZ

Fog settled into the canyons on a couple of post-storm mornings, creating spectacular light and atmospheric effects.

 

Along a creek in the Black River watershed, Apache National Forest, AZ

I can't resist posting another fog image.

Lush Green and Reflected Sunset, Apache National Forest, AZ

One evening, after wrapping up a Zoom meeting, I looked outside and saw this sky in one direction and a rainbow in the other.  I knew it wouldn’t last long enough to pull out the tripod and big girl gear, so a ran down to the creek to catch it and the reflection with my phone.  I’m glad it’s 2025, and phone cameras are quite good.

 

Wild Hops,  Apache National Forest, AZ

In overcast conditions, rather than put a lot of energy into frustration, photographers often work more in black and white and shoot smaller scenes.

There are other conditions which remind us that we’re not in control.  I’m thinking of roads unexpectedly closed, and of a favorite camping spot (in my case in the Mojave Preserve) newly designated as wilderness.  No camping.

Favorite places can also become too popular.  I’ve whined about that before. I’d often rather not go than jockey for position. That, too, is not subject to my command. 

Hammock time.

I find that a hammock is an invaluable tool for settling down and relinquishing the need to manage situations.

More from this trip are in the Summer 2025 Gallery on the website.

 

 

Say Their Names

My most-loved spots in the North Kaibab Forest, AZ

This post has been tough to write. It’s is mostly for me - to help me grieve.  The little hearts on the map (a portion of the Dragon Bravo Fire Map from Watch Duty) correspond to some favorite spots, lost in the fire.

When the forest re-opens, likely next season, I’ll get out and do some “after” shots.  That’ll be yet another step in processing the loss.

Forest Road 6548

I was just there in June.  There was a carpet of lupines starting among the big ponderosa trunks and I swore I’d get back to photograph the blooms in July.  This place had the best shade among the tall trees on hot days.

Forest Road 213

One of my favorite magic forest spots, complete with an s-curve and lovely mixed forest.

Aspen Island

We made the name up, after finding this spot perusing satellite maps.  Last June we camped in a slightly different spot.  We liked it better and assumed we’d have a chance to camp there again.  The Arizona Trail snaked through a meadow below us and afforded lots of hiking options.

Dog Point

Some of the best foregrounds on the East Rim were here, and I never saw another camper.

611P

There was shade and a great view over Marble Canyon here.  I shot my favorite “bowbanger” (rainbow with lightning) image from this spot.

The Big Meadows

There were more than one, of course.  The one on the map was my favorite, stretching in several directions and harboring tiny vinca flowers, the first to bloom in the early summer.

Forest Road 6452A

This camp was close to the road and well known.  Still there was the sense of being on the edge of the canyon and in your own world.  There was great access to the Arizona trail and meadows. 

Forest Road 612

I first found this area in a rainstorm.  I was looking for a quiet, sheltered place with a friend.  I came back many times. There were great campsites and particularly lovely aspen groves, as well as Meadow access.  The road was just bad enough to scare most people away but not bad enough to deter us. I remember a hailstorm one morning with great joy.

Marble Viewpoint

There’s no secret here.  The place is sentimental, since it’s where Pete Ensenberger first introduced me to the Kaibab Forest Viewpoints.  Famously one of the windiest places on the plateau, there’s a vast expanse of wind-pruned plants, including a famous and much-photographed tree. If you could tuck into the trees for shelter, it was a great spot.

Saddle Mountain Trailhead

The home of the Saddle Mountain and Nankoweep trailheads, this spot afforded great views of incoming storms and inversions.  I always felt I had unfinished business there.

I had unfinished business throughout the East Side Forest.

I’ll try to love what this place becomes as it recovers, and to be grateful for all the time I enjoyed before the fire.