Parashant 2

Claret Cup Cactus, Kelly Point, Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument

I went back.  I just had to.  Unfinished business is a powerful motivator, and I also have an assignment for an illustrated magazine article about Grand Canyon – Parashant National Monument.

My husband was game, bless him, and Gypsy the wonder dog came too.  She was queued up for knee surgery just after the trip, so our family hikes were limited to easy walks she could do three-legged without risking another injury.  The hike to Mount Trumbull’s summit would have to wait, but in the vicinity is a lovely 10,000-year-old petroglyph site called Nanpaweap (not to be confused with the Grand Canyon location Called Nankoweap. ‘Weap’ apparently refers to a canyon.) The dirt road on the way there from Fredonia was about 50 miles.  We considered that this expedition’s short drive.

Mount Trumbull Schoolhouse, Just outside Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument

Mount Trumbull Schoolhouse, Just outside Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument

From there we headed west to the Mount Trumbull Schoolhouse.  That section of road was slow and only disconcerting in a curvy section with big drop-offs.  Meeting a vehicle in the other direction would be harrowing, but we didn’t.  The schoolhouse was completed in 1922 and served students until 1966.  It also served as a town hall, church, and dance hall.  Peak population in the area was 200-259 in the 1930s, and the last full-time resident left in 1984. The building was restored to near-original condition in 1994.  Arsonists burned it down in 2000 and was restored with funding from a private – BLM partnership in 2001

From there we acted on particularly bad judgement and took the 18-mile route over BLM Road 1018 (not for nothing, in radio code 10-18 means ‘urgent’) to Poverty Junction.  Though we were never in danger of bodily harm, the road was too rough for our 144-inch wheelbase Sprinter, despite its ground clearance and capable four-wheel-drive.  We worried most about needing a recovery vehicle there to extract the 4-ton beast. We completed that route in about 3 ½ hours. Breathing exercises were helpful. I’d do the road on an ATV, but it would be a challenge even in a short-wheelbase Jeep. There was no permanent damage to anything but our nerves.

This brings me to an important observation about Parashant in general.  The major ridges and drainages run north and south.  The roads running parallel to these are generally not harrowing, just slow and painstaking.  These two challenging ones, and the one I wrote about when reporting on the December trip, are all oriented east-west. The practical advice I can offer about that is to think of the monument as consisting of three “compartments,” each accessed from a different point.  It’s both better and quicker to retreat to civilization, go to the next access point, and re-enter the monument.  The sections are accessed from Mesquite Nevada, St. George Utah, and Fredonia Arizona.

Grand Canyon is out there somewhere. Poverty Junction Area, Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument

Exhausted from that ordeal, we had an adult beverage and spent that night tucked into the forest in the Poverty Junction area.  I flew the drone from there and found it a great vantage point to show the vastness of the Monument, greater than 1 million acres.

Sunrise from Twin Point, Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument

We did some exploring on the way to revisit Twin Point, looking for other interesting vantage points on Grand Canyon, but in the end scooted out to Twin.  Unfortunately, three guys (in three vehicles) with no idea about camping ethics came speeding in a couple of hours after we did, and camped ten yards from us, if that.  

Backlighted cactus from Twin Point, Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument

We’d planned to stay two nights, but after I got the sunset and sunrise shots I wanted for the assignment from the tip of the point, we relocated to a lovely west facing spot a few miles away for the night. There we found the peace we sought, and my favorite shot of the trip (above).

Virgin River from the December trip

The route out to St George is 95 miles, requiring about five hours.  The trip home from there was a bit more than that, so we posted up in the Virgin River Canyon Campground along I15 on the way out.  Bear in mind that the elevation there is several thousand feet lower than most of the Monument.  It’s hot there, often windy, and within earshot of the highway. We planned to arrive late by taking a lunch stop on the way out in the shady pine forest at 6000 feet and lounging in hammocks.

Lunch stop in the pines (the van is, in fact, black under all that dirt). Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument

In fact, I still have unfinished business, but that’s the nature of expeditions.

I’ll repeat my disclaimer from the December post. GCPNM is undoubtedly the most isolated overlanding destinations I’ve explored.  It’s likely one of the most remote in the country with over 1200 miles of rough dirt roads.  To attempt this you need (at a minimum) a full-sized spare or two, tire repair capability and a compressor, extra fuel for your vehicle, communication other than your cell phone and preferably a way to follow weather patterns (we travel with an In-reach and Starlink), much more food and water than you think you need, redundant maps (think paper as well as electronic), first aid, warm clothes, and a modicum of good sense and experience.

There’s more on the website, in the Spring 2026 Gallery.

Beat the Bus

Reflections in the Colorado River Downstream from Moab UT

It’s a trade-off.  I lean toward solitude and choose it whenever I can, but some of the crowded spots hold treasures that justify going there even though they're more people-y.

Crescent Moon at Sunrise, Dead Horse Point State Park, UT

One benefit of rousting myself well before sunrise is that most tourists are still sleeping. That’s a winning strategy for busy parks like Arches National Park and Dead Horse Point State Park in Eastern Utah.

Last week I met up with a friend in Moab.  She’d already been there for five days doing a photo workshop with Colleen Miniuk.  I thought it would be fun (except for the 7 ½ hour drive) to spend a few days together after the workshop.  It certainly was.

Preternaturally unpopulated Delicate Arch at Predawn, Arches National Park, UT

One morning we photographed Delicate arch from a distant viewpoint.  I don’t generally remove things from my images, but in this case it seemed appropriate to digitally remove the hordes of people around the base of the arch.

Dawn at Broken Arch, Arches National Park, UT

Several times, after hustling up a trail in the dark and enjoying the quiet, we’d see a tour bus pulling into the parking lot on our way out.  Literally, the bus.  Other times it was a train of cars going where we’d come from – a sort of figurative bus.  We decided that our best strategy for National Park outings is to beat the bus.

Winter Trees in a Quiet Canyon on BLM Land, UT

There were other places.  Quiet canyons that I remember from my last trip there, eight years ago, and places that Amy had learned about during her workshop that we revisited.

Moab is a cool town, whose population has been stable over the last decade though it has sprouted a slew of new hotels and timeshares.  Crowds have increased, but the people are largely not locals.  Easter jeep week brings 20,000 people to this town of 5,000.  Still, it boasts many of the characteristics of the perfect outdoor-focused town.  My favorites: A first-rate bakery (Sweet Cravings), perfect independent bookstore (Back of Beyond), Great food and beer, local art shops, and lots of Subarus, Toyota four-wheel drives, and Jeeps.

Backlighted Cactus along a Trail

In a sense we beat the bus when we spent time in town, too.  I’ve always visited later in the spring, and mid-March was a much better time to find downtown parking and even to have reasonable luck with left tuns onto and off of the highway. In May, not so much.

Bowtie Arch, Along a Popular Trail

As always, there were many more natural places we wanted to see than time to visit them, so we hope to be back.

But not by bus.

There’s more on the Website, in the Spring 2026 Gallery.

Closer to Home

Harquahala Mountains, AZ at Sunrise

Here I am again, writing about a pivot in my plans which turned out for the best.  I’d expected to do the unpack-pack thing after a drive home from visiting family in California.  I wanted to have another crack at flowers in the Mojave Desert.  Belatedly it dawned on me that the temperatures where I wanted to be would top out around 95. That’s not ideal in the black van without air conditioning. Plus, crowds.

So, I decided to enjoy some spring beauty close to home.  I did the scouting (looking for compositions before the good light hit) on my Vespa, for a bonus thrill.

Yarnell Hill AZ

The brittlebush on the Yarnell Hill section of State Highway 89, literally five minutes from my front door, were having their once-in-a-decade bloom.  The terrain is rugged there, which made this a perfect project to tackle with the drone.  I shot at sunrise and sunset on the hill, being mindful to keep it legal and avoid flying over moving vehicles.  That means carefully timing highway crossings, which is fun.

 

Yarnell Hill AZ

Recently I had a conversation with a friend who isn’t a big fan of drone images.  He insists that they’re impersonal because there’s no foreground – that the aircraft flies too high.  I countered that there’s no reason that (with care) drone images can’t be taken from just a few feet above ground level.  Here’s an example of a drone image with foreground.  I rest my case.

Owl's Clover near Congress AZ

Another little trip was to highway 71 outside Congress.  I appreciated the Owl’s Clover.

Total Lunar Eclipse March 3, 2026

I did get up at 4:00AM to see the lunar eclipse.  There’s nothing at all original about this image, but it does bring back the feeling of standing in a cold wind, focusing on the moon.  I was reminded that I’m merely a tiny being, pasted by gravity to this planet while it temporarily cast a shadow on it’s moon. 

Harquahala Mountains, AZ at Sunrise

Finally, I had a quick overnighter to the Harquahala Mountains, which is a favorite spot with reliable solitude.  Unfortunately, the annual flowers (mostly poppies, lupines, and scorpionweed) had finished blooming, and there had not been many of them.  There were a few brittlebush still blooming.  I managed to have a great time with sunrise shots there regardless, and I had a lovely mental reset from the solitude.

All this while spending the nights at home.  There’s more on the website. 

The Artist’s Way

 

Really, this has been transformational, and that’s not a concept that I throw around lightly.

I bought Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way about twenty-five years ago. It’s a sort of guided tour through the development of creativity, with weekly reading and assignments.  I started and stalled the course at least twice, and there it sat on my desks (at least three houses), reminding me of my lack of follow-through.  I think it just wasn’t time yet.

Then last May my sister told me she had started it.  She had no idea of my history – she was just chatting about what was up in her life.  I decided I’d give in another go, and this time it stuck.  I’m currently midway through the third 12-week course.  Don’t let that deter you.  The first step is just 12 weeks, and I’d suggest (if it’s the right time for you) that you start by committing to that.

So, in addition to reading each weekly chapter (It’s OK to stretch your weeks out to two or three depending on your schedule), there are two important practices.  First, morning pages are a stream of consciousness journal.  There’s no audience and all you must do is fill three 81/2 X 11 pages each day, as early in the day as possible.  It’s an opportunity to rant and be grateful and sometimes to nurture new ideas to fruition.

The chapters and pages got me off high-center and I printed an archive of my first 13 years of blog posts, and wrote a boxed set of 12 books of my favorite images, mostly arranged by location.  I’m sure I never would have tackled either of those projects without the Artist’s Way. I’m grateful.

The other practice is what underpins this post.  An Artist Date is something you do weekly, ideally alone, which allows you to play and exposes you to new stuff.  Research has shown that creativity is largely about combining disparate concepts, so the more you know, the more creative you’ll be.  An Artist Date is “filling the well.”  Things that are traditionally artistic count, Like museums or the ballet, but also interesting shopping trips or podcasts, hikes or a great conversation.

So I did some classes.

I’ve always been curious about mosaic, so I did three classes at Phoenix’s Desert Botanical Garden with David Jarvinen.  This is my favorite of the three projects.  In general, I loved the freedom, with mosaic, to be a bit random.  I've learned that I’m not good with hyper-realism because I’m not that fussy.

A cyanotype class with Gabrielle Bitter at the Wickenburg Art Center last month was engaging.  This is a medium I think I’ll work with more at home.  It’s easy and like Raku (which I haven’t tried yet) you don’t know exactly what you’ll get until you’re done.  Cyanotype involves bringing up silhouettes by placing objects on a light sensitive medium (in this case applied to paper) and setting the whole assembly out in the sun.  It’s the same chemistry that made old-fashioned blueprints blue.

Oaxacan figure painting with Julia Fuentes, also at the Wickenburg Art Center, was fun even though it was a bit humbling.  Mine looks OK, but hers are stunning.

I commissioned a “portrait” of Gypsy and this is what Julia made.  Her work is so much more impressive than mine!

I have a heap of beach glass from 50 years of beachcombing in San Clemente.  As a tribute to the home there that my siblings and I sold after Mom passed in 2024, I tackled some crafty stuff with the glass, coached only by Pinterest. It was a fun exercise.  I made four pieces and there’s still quite a bit of glass left.

The project I’m most excited about now is using the app Procreate to transform some of my images to have a painterly look.  I got myself an apple pencil to allow precision and pressure – sensitive work on the iPad, and I’ve been having a ball. Procreate can do much more than that, and there are lots of free learning resources on YouTube.

I’ve got what I call the “re-adjustable” project list, meaning that I’m free to change my priorities any time.  So next up (or maybe not) are blackout poetry, a book based on a series of photographs I’ve been working on for years, and resurrecting something I did when I was 8 or 9 – abstract oil painting on ceramic tile.  But I’m modifying the list all the time.

Maybe I inspired you or maybe just confirmed your unfavorable impression of my mental health, but thanks for the read.  We’ll return to our regularly scheduled photographic content soon.

Dune Tour

Hazy rising crescent moon, Ibex area of Death Valley

"If you say, 'well, that’s pretty much what I thought I’d see' you are in trouble. At that point, you have to ask yourself why you are even here."  ~ Anne Lamott

There’s basically no snow this year.  Having cancelled a ski trip, I had a big block of time to take the van out on my own.  It had been since April, and I was feeling the lack. My introverted soul needs both solitude and wilderness.

Desert Gold bloom, Ibex area of Death Valley

I thought it would be a bit early for flowers, but it was shaping up to be a good year in the California desert.  In the absence of information about the progress of the bloom, I set out for low altitude destinations (which I thought would be showing flowers first) to see for myself. I hope for the best.

I got it.

First I headed for Ibex Dunes in Death Valley National Park.  It’s been a few years since I’d been there, but at under 500 feet elevation, I liked my odds. 

“Superbloom” is a label used for a phenomenon when an unusually large proportion of wildflowers whose seeds have lain dormant in desert soil germinate and blossom at roughly the same time, generally in large carpets. The prerequisite is well-timed rains the previous fall and winter. There’s little agreement about what exactly constitutes a superbloom.

I do think I was treated to one at Ibex Dunes, though.

Desert Gold bloom, Ibex area of Death Valley

I turned a corner on the rough road and was astounded to see several multi-acre carpets of desert gold and golden suncap on the rocky east-facing slopes.  I immediately decided I’d stay for more than one night.  It was spectacular.

Brown Eyes, Ibex area of Death Valley

The walk from the road to the dunes at Ibex is about a mile, and I was surprised by a huge mat of brown eyes along the way.

Carpets of Phacelia and Desert Gold, Ibex Hills

On the way out, I decided on a whim to check out nearby Saratoga Springs.  I don’t find much that’s photogenic at the springs, but on the way there’s a geologic formation which I’ve wanted to include in a composition for many years.  It’s at the south end of the Ibex Hills and reveals delicious striped strata.  The thrill was that at its foot were blankets of Phacelia (scorpionweed) along with desert gold.  I love it when a whim pays off!

Brown Eyes Detail, Ibex area of Death Valley

I moved on after a couple of nights to Kelso Dunes in the Mojave National Preserve.  Those of you who have been there know that it’s a tough place to shoot with lots of dead vegetation.  High winds (I had to hunt for my stepstool when breaking camp in the morning) and socked-in overcast made for a challenging session.  I have nothing to share from Kelso.  I can vouch for the delights of an afternoon in camp, though.  Time for reading, processing photographs, art projects, and napping is a real gift. In a moment of synchronicity, I read the Ann Lamott quote that I opened this post with just when I needed it.

From there I swung by Amboy Crater, in the Mojave Trails National Monument.  I thought flowers among the black volcanic rocks would be beautiful, but I didn’t see much along the trail.  I did see no less than six camper vans in the parking lot (where camping is not allowed), with folks walking around in their pajamas and having their morning coffee.  I had planned to camp there (in the overflow parking lot, where it is allowed) if I thought there was photographic potential, but I moved on.

Dune Primrose backlighted at sunrise

My last stop was a dune field nearby.  I first heard about this place years ago from Jeff Foott, who died recently.  He asked that I not be specific about this location, so I won’t.  This visit felt like a chance to pay my respects to this kind man and talented photographer. I had some nice light there and delighted in the scattered dune primroses.  I’ve done lots of conventional dune photography here, but I decided to work mostly on the flowers this time.  That’s no small challenge because the areas in bloom are cluttered and chaotic compositionally.  I did make a few images I’m pleased with.

Massive blanket of Desert Gold flowers, Mojave Trails National Monument

Finally, there was a farewell gift of gargantuan fields of Desert Gold on the way home.

I’ll never tire of sand dunes, I’m sure.  And the superbloom is a welcome bonus.

More images are on the website, in the Winter 25-26 Gallery.  I know it looks like Spring, but really, it’s only mid-February.

Argentina

 

Mapuche Elder.  He didn't respond to my Spanish, but was game for a photo

First, a couple of disclaimers.  This was Marco’s fishing trip, on which I tagged along.  Photography was where I could find it, so there are not so many landscapes in ideal light.  I also spent two days in bed with food poisoning, during which photography was furthest from my mind. 

Marco casting on Lake Tronen

I'm going to hit the highlights. 

We spent a couple of days in Buenos Aires, enjoying art and landmarks.  One of the latter is the Grand Splendid Bookstore, a converted theater. 

Another favorite was the very old giant fig trees in the Recoleta section of the city which I was able to photograph in morning light.  It was a great, safe place to walk. 

Once in the Lake Section of Patagonia, wildlife was a highlight.  There was a guided morning birdwatching, and my favorite was a red fox in Lanìn National Park. 

From the back patio of the house we stayed in, there were views of Lanìn Volcano.  Photography doesn’t get much easier than that. 

The house was right on the Chimehuin River.  I didn’t find a landscape composition of the river that I liked but had fun with abstracts and reflections.

 

Hiking through the rainforests and among the monkey puzzle trees were a best part.  Lanìn was visible from many angles. 

The trails were full of flowers (it’s summer there after all).  Many native species show up in our gardens and flower shops. 

Perhaps my favorite photographs are portraits, taken of the Mapuche people and of Gauchos at the Rural Festival in Junìn.

As always, there’s more on the website, in the Winter 2025-26 Gallery.

Monthly Favorites 2025

Runner up: Grand Canyon AZ

Another year already? I’m cogitating the paradox of a year full of interesting things flying by at the speed of aging.  In any case, here’s the excruciating annual tradition of choosing (generally) one image per month that’s a favorite or represents a treasured experience.

Detail, Oak Creek AZ

January

I know I should start out with a bang, but I didn’t shoot much this month.  There was family travel and a couple of not-too-productive local trips.  One weekend we driveway-camped at a friend’s weekend property on Oak Creek near Cornville.  I made this image with my phone while doing a photo walk creekside. I love the dance of light, the warmth, and the movement in it.

Campsite. Harquahala Mountains AZ

February

This is more memory than art.  One of my favorite places to camp when I need to clear my head is the Harquahala Mountains, just over an hour from home.   I’ve never seen another camper out there.  That’s a big plus for me.  On this February morning I put up the drone and was taken by the geometry of the sahuaro shadows and creosote growing in the little washes. The shapes of the background mountains and the two-track feel good, too.

Death Valley CA

March

This month I got my mojo back.  I grabbed a last-minute opening in a Death Valley photo workshop with Jerry Dodrill and Todd Pickering and embraced a return to working in some places I’ve visited and shot quite a bit over the years.  The instruction and the company of my peers knocked some enthusiasm and awe back into my thick skull. It was tough to pick one, but here it is, a high-key sensuous abstract at Mesquite Dunes.

Mojave Trails National Monument CA

April

Back to the Mojave, this time with the family.  Marco and I orchestrated this one.  After sunrise I radioed to let him know I had finished shooting the early light and set up the telephoto lens.  He let the girl out of the van. Once Gypsy saw me, she ran almost a mile toward me (what’s more of a joy than unconditional dog love?) and I photographed her as if she were wildlife.  I love the curve, as well as her eye contact and joy. I made this one into a refrigerator magnet.

Saguaro Bloom, Aguila AZ

May

2025 was the worst year for desert annual blooms in my 35 years in Arizona.  The Sahuaros, though, went nuts.  This is a drone image near Highway 71 near Aguila.  I love the sky and the abandoned bird’s nest as well.  In truth, I want another chance, because my favorite image from this day, a top-down shot of a blooming sahuaro, was out of focus.  I learned that the drone camera can’t focus that close, but there’s no playback on my controller, so the moment was over before I learned that lesson.  Stay tuned – I’ll try again from slightly higher.

Spring in the Kaibab Forest AZ

June

June is early spring at 9000 feet in the North Kaibab Forest, just north of Grand Canyon.  This image, from one of my deeply loved spots there, shows aspens from just beginning to show leaf buds to that early stage of bright exuberant green which makes me glad to be alive.  This is one of many areas torched by the Dragon Bravo Fire just a month later.  

Upper Provo River UT

July

Provo River Gorge, another favorite spot, along the Upper Provo River. This is another example of a spectacular place that I might not have discovered if not for a fishing location tip from one of Marco’s buddies.

White Mountains AZ

August

I was camped with the family on one of the many tributaries of the Black River in Eastern Arizona, finishing a zoom meeting when I looked up and saw this light.  It was changing fast and I knew I’d miss it if I took the time to dig out the mirrorless camera. I survived a run down the hill in my crocs (don’t judge) to this spot on the creek which I’d scouted earlier. I might have been yelling some colorful things as well.

Fishlake National Forest AZ

September

The Fishlake National Forest was absolutely staggering last fall.  I had a hard time choosing one image from two nights camping there.  I know, this one is a little over-chaotic, but I couldn’t resist that light.  I ran up a hill littered with deadfall to get here, and if I’m honest I’ll admit I tripped on the way up.  I have no regrets.

Caddo Lake, LA

October

Back to Caddo Lake Texas for the third time. I had envisioned a high-key image like this of a cypress tree in the bayou and was thrilled to find it.  It’s in Louisiana.  Two of us were driving in from the airport in Shreveport and made a stop at Williamson Park.  I’m so glad to have shot this, because there wasn’t another opportunity and the color on this tree is better than most of what we saw that week (most of the trees had already dropped leaves), I just put a print of this image on my living room wall.

Post-storm view from Tunnel View, Yosemite National Park CA

November

My first trip to Yosemite.  This image also went up on my wall recently. We had lots of rain and not so much sunlight.  Some photographers call those “black and white” conditions.  This vista from Tunnel View has been shot as much as any in the park, but I love it for the ground fog and tonal gradation, if not for its originality. 

Gold Butte National Monument NV

December

December is tough, because I’m choosing between images I’ve just made.  I edit better if they can percolate a bit. I’ve recently returned from a family jaunt through Gold Butte National Monument (NV) and Grand Canyon – Parashant National Monument (AZ).  This is from hikes around a favorite spot at Gold Butte on a day when I was captivated by the light on the many wind erosion arches.

Blessings in the new year.  Thanks for your support in 2025.  I look forward with enthusiasm to sharing the surprises of 2026 and beyond.