An Old Friend

Last week, Winter into Spring, Kaibab Forest Arizona

I’ve just had my first trip of the season, which begins May 15, to the North Kaibab National Forest north of the Grand Canyon.  My husband, dog, and I had some thunderstorms with hail, which is unusual for June.  While sheltering from the downpour I got to thinking about my history in this, one of my very favorite places.

North Kaibab Trailhead.  I was 28

The first visit I can remember was about 35 years ago.  I was…a lot younger than I am now.  I was with a group and we took a shuttle from the South Rim, spent a night at the lodge, and backpacked south, camping three nights along the way.  The hike was unforgettable, including blisters, lemonade at Phantom Ranch, and the healing powers of inhaled substances, not yet legal.  My stay at the north Rim was, however, forgettable.  I hadn’t gotten the bug yet.

Z3 Road Trip ca. 2002

Next was a trip with a car club.  We drove a BMW Z3 two-seat convertible and made the stop at the North Rim as part of a meandering drive.  There were maybe 18 cars, and I remember thinking that we looked like a row of jellybeans in assorted colors.  Ours was British Racing Green, BTW. I thought the NR part of the park was cool (still do), but again zipped through the forest, missing the best part.

My soul connected to the forest during an Arizona Highways Photo workshop (later called Photoscapes and recently closed down altogether, sadly.) with Pete Ensenberger.  Pete was retired from the position of Photo Editor at Arizona Highways Magazine.  He would become a mentor and generously review my images for teaching purposes several times.  During this trip, the group stayed at the lodge and hit the road very early each morning, mostly into the forest.  It was autumn, and I was hooked.

My first night solo in Lurch, Kaibab Forest Arizona

In 2013 we bought our first overlanding vehicle, which I called “Lurch.”  I always thought Lurch would be a good Dog name, but neither of us wants a male dog, so I used it for the Tundra-Four Wheel Camper combination we would camp in for 350 nights until we replaced it with our 4WD Sprinter, “Raven.” Incidentally, we sold the Z3 when we jumped into overlanding.  Its the only vehicle I wish I still had.  When I'm too old to do overlanding, look for me in a sporty convertible again.

Marble Viewpoint Sunrise

Pete told me about a some viewpoints on the edge of the canyon, and once I’d seen Marble Viewpoint, I was hooked.

Crazy Jug Point, Kaibab Forest Arizona.  There's nothing like a stormy sunset.

I did tons of research, finding other lookouts and checking each of them out in turn. On one of the first of these trips I met Ranger Jess, who was generous with information about other vista points in the park and out.  For several years she’d invite me to spend a night in her driveway periodically, and three times I visited as her guest before the park opened. She gave me the gate codes (Jacob Lake and the entrance station) and scoot in to experience the North Rim part of the park with no one but a few rangers there. 

With Jess in the Moon Room, Grand Canyon North Rim

We’d have dinner at the lodge sometimes, and celebrated her graduation from college with champagne (at altitude) in the “Moon Room” downstairs from the “Sun Room” in the main Lodge building.  These are spectacular memories and I’m deeply grateful for her help.

Summer Forest Detail, Kaibab Forest Arizona

As the viewpoints became increasingly crowded, I had a growing interest in getting away from others in quiet places deep in the forest.  I loved being far from the throngs, as well as the opportunity to photograph smaller scenes that are much more likely to inspire original work than the viewpoint shots.

Looking onto a meadow at sunrise, Kaibab Forest Arizona

Around this time, I developed a love for meadows.  There are leas large and small scattered throughout the forest on both sides of highway 67.  They afford an opportunity to compose photographs with flowers and fall color with less visual chaos than doing so deep in the forest.  They also feel magical to me, and Gypsy the Wonder Dog loves a good unobstructed run. 

Aerial Meadow View, Kaibab Forest Arizona

I found myself pouring over satellite maps to find new meadows and nearby dispersed camping sites.  Meadows are also compelling for drone photography, as long as you’re far enough north to be outside the Grand Canyon no-fly zone. I’ll have to say I’m still in the meadow phase. There are so many more to explore.

By now I’ve spent at least 150 nights camping in the North Kaibab.  It’s a cliché, I know, but I imagine I’ll never be finished finding beautiful spots.

Ombre Spring, Kaibab Forest Arizona

Our family is just back from that first trip of the season.  We explored some but mostly hunkered down in familiar places because of the weather.  Meadows are cooler at night, so the aspens tend to leaf out later (and change color earlier in the autumn), so we saw some bright yellow-green trees and some which hadn’t started to turn green at all.  Sometimes these color variations were all on one hillside. Sometimes the bare graphic of trees without leaves was juxtaposed on the color riot behind them.

Brown on Green, Kaibab Forest Arizona

Our other stop was a coniferous forest I’d scouted a couple of seasons ago.  There we had hail and a marvelous juxtaposition of aspens and pines. There will be carpets of purple-blue lupine flowers when I get back there next month.  PT Barnum allegedly said, “always leave them wanting more.”

Hail

There’s more at the end of the “Spring 2025” Gallery on the website.

Stay Safe Out there

Looking north from my balcony, La Paloma Resort, Tucson AZ

I’m just back from the NANPA (North American Nature Photography) Summit in Tucson. These are  transcendent meetings, and I always come home inspired and with ideas and hope.

I especially enjoyed a panel discussion about woman photographers featuring Brenda Tharp, Sarah Marino, Brie Stockwell, and Amy Gulick. The topics were varied and fascinating, as you would imagine.  I was especially sparked by the topic of women camping alone.

Agave on the grounds, La Paloma Resort, Tucson AZ

I’ve given this issue lots of thought and so I found myself nodding vigorously as these accomplished women addressed the question.  Amy even used my favorite expression for that little voice ignored at our peril, the “spidey sense.”  I’ve only changed plans once in that situation but stand ready to do it again as needed.  I was parked in my truck camper and a couple of guys drove up in a pickup asking whether I was camping there that night. The hairs stood up on the back of my neck.  I find it’s not what is said but how it is said. I answered, “I’m not sure,” and thought “nope.”  I found another place, of course.

Camping and photographing by myself has its risks but for me, and apparently for these four, the reward justifies all that.  I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Resident Great Horned Owl, La Paloma Resort, Tucson AZ

Interestingly, people who start the safety conversation with me are almost always women.  Men seem to understand it more naturally.  The women who express concern generally ask about dangerous animals first.  I tell them that I’m not too concerned about animals.  As long as they’re not rabid and I’m sensible, they keep their distance.  The only unpleasant animal encounter I can remember is feral burros which woke me at 2:00 AM vigorously head-butting my camper.  I don't appreciate their charms.

The real risk, at least theoretically, is from humans. People who want to make trouble, though, are vanishingly unlikely to be seeking it in the nether regions where I camp.

Gila Woodpecker, La Paloma Resort, Tucson AZ

There are strategies to reduce risk, of course.  I travel with a big, alert dog. She’s a Malinois so she’s essentially a cop. Her barking alone would likely make a bad guy choose someone else to harass.  There are other good safety precautions like letting someone know where you are and when, carrying a communication device like In-Reach to use when there’s no phone signal, and satellite internet in camp.

I have a few more subtle and creative strategies as well.  I carry a pair of size 14 men’s boots (a gift from a patient years ago) which I’ll sometimes leave outside.  I also feel safer setting up two folding chairs in camp rather than one.

Another resident, La Paloma Resort, Tucson AZ

Another common discussion is about firearms.  The decision to carry a gun is a complex one.  I’ll just say that target practice is not sufficient preparation for a situation when you might point a weapon at an intruder.  We need to be willing to do “shoot – don’t shoot” training to minimize the risk of hurting an innocent, including ourselves.

Life requires finesse, and it would be dull indeed without calculated risks.

I hope to see you out there, safely.

Lazy

Desert View Watchtower (Grand Canyon) at sunset last week

A confession.

What you miss if you don't go out in the weather.  Grand Canyon

I’m in a constant battle with discipline.  Jerry Dodrill, a mentor and one of the least lazy people I know, says if you don’t want to be out there (because the weather is unpleasant for example)  it’s probably time to be out there.  I paraphrased, but that’s the gist.  The first time I heard this from him, I looked for exceptions in my head.  I didn’t want this to be true.  I’ve since admitted that he’s correct.

Nature photography, like most things worth doing well, requires effort.

Mid-day at Grand Canyon last week. Zone-tailed hawk

As I was thinking this might be an interesting topic for a post, driving home from a couple of nights at the Grand Canyon, what should come on the radio but Todd Rundgren’s Bang the Drum All Day.  You know, “I don’t want to work…” Yeah. Perhaps he fought a similar battle.

Focus-stacked telephoto image, Death Valley

For example, at a Death Valley workshop last March with Jerry Dodrill and Todd Pickering, we spent lots of time out on the dunes, sometimes shooting at long focal lengths.  I’ll boil down the technicalities and say that it’s difficult and sometime impossible to get the entire image in focus with a telephoto lens.  Most of us were working on a technique to get around this called focus stacking.  I realized that, when working on my own, I can sometimes be lazy about this very thing and end up with soft focus on the horizon of my image.  Hope, as they say, is not a plan. A side point here is that it’s nearly impossible to be lazy in a workshop. Peer pressure and enthusiasm. That’s another advantage of getting out there with teachers and peers.

 

One of those mid-day details, Grand Canyon

Sometimes when I’m camping, I really want that midday nap.  The snooze is especially tough to resist in summer when sunrise comes very early.  I do love a camping nap.  That said, there can be some great opportunities to shoot details and macro images mid-day.  There’s a tough balance to strike, especially for people like me who don’t do well with sleep deprivation.

Gotta walk to find things.  Buffington Pockets, Nevada

Another example is the dirt road which, like most of them, deteriorates as I go. How much further am I willing to drive to explore the new spot?  If I make camp here, how far am I willing to walk in the dark to catch sunrise? How early will I set the alarm?

Maybe I’m too hard on myself, assuming that the relaxing times are somehow less valuable than the challenging ones.  Maybe I should just enjoy the peanut butter filled pretzels a read a book sometimes.

I find myself wondering how much effort is enough. I may never know.

Life as Art

Osprey above Willow Springs Reservoir

I’ve been reading Guy Tal’s latest book, Be Extraordinary. His books are dense and philosophical, so I generally read just a chapter or two at a time and let things soak in.  During last week’s trip to Arizona’s Mogollon Rim, I read a line which has resonated since.

“Make your life your best work of art,” he writes, among musings on a variety of aspects of art.  His words feel like nothing less than a unifying theory of life.

The view above our campsite, Canyon Creek area AZ

I’m in a place to contemplate the profound these days, having lost a friend in a car accident and just learned that another friend is under the care of Hospice. As I age, I know more and older people and there’s more loss. There is no antidote to bereavement, but a life lived well is the best we’ve got.

My husband and I say that we try to live without regrets, balancing time with friends and family, in the wilderness, and finding ways to help.  We’ve been making it up as we go along and that’s been working well since I’ve stopped caring so much about what others think.  All this is a work in progress.

Don’t get me wrong, I still waste time with things like games on my phone and binging Netflix. Maybe that’s part of the balance.

Tal’s philosophical musing resonated through my recent photographic adventures.

Canyon Creek AZ

Last week’s trip was unusual. Rather than a planned excursion, it was an exploration of a new place. I was mostly just walking around seeing what I could find and going where my husband wanted to fish. I stumbled on this section of Canyon Creek and played with it for some time.

I’m also working on underwater fish shots with a GoPro (though I suspect I’ll upgrade the equipment eventually).  There’s quite a learning curve here, so I feel a little vulnerable showing this shot.  Better work is coming, I hope.

Doing photography is life’s art for me whether I’m striving to communicate emotion or promote conservation; support nonprofits or enjoy time alone or with loved ones.

Yesterday I was the photographer for a community clean-up near home. No great art emerged from this project, but the work helps with community connection and supports the sponsoring church.

With friends at Taliesin West

Many of you know I’m a contributor to Arizona Highways Magazine.  Last week I was honored to attend a celebration of the 100^th anniversary of the publication.  I’m privileged to have made a small contribution to this exemplary publication.  The party was held at sunset on the patio of Taliesin West, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Winter Home and school in Scottsdale.  It was so fitting that the light was spectacular in honor of a publication known for photography.

I was in the company of many friends, some of whom I’m in touch with regularly and others with whom I joyously reconnected after many years.  I also met some folks from the magazine with whom I’ve only connected by email.

This is fun – I won this large, mounted print of the 100^th anniversary (April 2025) magazine cover in a raffle.  The image was made by the legendary David Muench, who was in attendance and was kind enough to sign the print.

I’m still thinking about life as art.  I don’t imagine I’ll ever stop.

A Little Diversion

Flagellum in the Dunes, Mojave Desert, California

We had a Spring weather preview a couple of weeks ago and kind of jumped the gun on our planning, intending to head to the Rim Country Lakes to camp last week.  Then the weather turned in the other direction with snow and high temperatures there in the 30s.

We decided instead on one more trip to California’s Mojave Desert.

Afton Canyon, Mojave Desert, California

The first night was windy, so we tucked into Afton Canyon, an odd little campground in the Mojave Trails National Monument.  A site runs $3 with Marco’s Senior Federal Pass (I’m not quite there yet). 

Afton Canyon Trestle, Mojave Desert, California

Why odd?  It’s a common starting and ending point for a drive of the Mojave Road, a historic unpaved route mostly through the Mojave National Preserve.  The Mojave River flows through Afton Canyon as well.  It does have many charms, but doesn’t quite meet its moniker, “Grand Canyon of the Mojave.”  Some campers there are troubled by train noise.  Because I’ve lived in several places near the tracks the frequent freighters coming through Afton don’t even wake me up.  Besides, I appreciate the trains and trestles for their photogenicity.

We stumbled on a burned-out truck during our travels, and I enjoyed geeking out on the patterns formed in several layers of scorched automotive paint.  I wondered about the story here and I wonder still.

Soft light on the dunes, Mojave Desert, California

The next night we scooted over to our favorite dunes in the Mojave, which we don’t name in hopes of keeping them pristine.  This won’t make everyone happy, but if you know me and want to go, you can ask.

Sunrise, Mojave Desert, California

There’s been a good deal of dune photography this year.  The last trip was a workshop with Jerry Dodrill and Todd Pickering.  Since then, with their encouragement, I’ve been shooting long focal-length images (which are impossible to make sharp with a single image) with focus stacking.  This technique requires shooting multiple images of the same scene, focused at different depths.  The images are combined, using the sharpest part of each.  Generally, this is done with specialized software but can be done manually in Photoshop.  I use Helicon Focus, and there are others.

Dune Detail, Mojave Desert, California

The photography was good, and the solitude was sublime.

Watching Gypsy the Wonder Dog’s joy was perhaps the best part.  It was certainly worth slogging up the dunes with the big wildlife lens.

There’s more on the website in the Spring 2025 Gallery. So far, it’s stocked with two trips through the Mojave.

Badlands, Sand and Salt

Setting sun and wind, Mesquite Dunes, Death Valley National Park

I’m no stranger to Death Valley National Park.  I’d thought I wouldn’t join another workshop there, and that I was only interested in photographing less popular backcountry locations by myself now.  Then a last-minute spot became available on a Visionary Wild workshop with Jerry Dodrill and Todd Pickering.  On impulse I signed on to this front-country, stay-in-a hotel-room adventure.

Closed road, Mojave National Preserve

Sunrise in the Joshua Trees, Mojave National Preserve

I drove out in the van and spent some time in the Mojave National Preserve before the group convened.  Sadly, my favorite place to camp there had been designated wilderness.  No motor vehicles are allowed.  I was less than thrilled to see the turn-off blocked.  There are lots of other options, though, and I settled in at mid-elevation among the Joshua trees and in a nice quiet spot with no traffic.

Workshops keep a more robust pace than I do traveling alone.  Landscape photographers are always up and out in the dark, and this trip was no exception.  On my own, though, I generally get some work done and grab a nap during mid-day.  Instead, the group enjoyed the 4-plus-hour image review sessions.  These were excellent and were time well spent, despite missed naps. I have pages of notes on everything from technical photo processing tips to quotes from Galen Rowell. I also don’t do the long restaurant dinners after sunset shoots when traveling on my own.  After 6-hour sleep nights all week, I was ready for a recharge despite feeling deeply inspired.

Zabriskie Point, Death Valley National Park

There were variations on familiar locations, like hiking into the badlands a bit at Zabriskie Point for a less common vantage point and to allow us to use the dry wash as a leading line.  It didn’t hurt that the light was spectacular as well.

Snowy Telescope Peak and pink sky reflected, Death Valley National Park

This location in Badwater Basin also blessed us with uncommon sunrise color as we tromped around in the crunchy (but surprisingly durable) salt deposits.

Pastels after sunset, Mesquite Dunes, Death Valley National Park

I love shooting sand dunes but have avoided the accessible (and therefore popular) Mesquite Dunes for quite a while.  Because we were staying at Stovepipe Wells, adjacent to the dunes, we did three shoots there. We had the mixed blessing of wind.  Though there was grit in my teeth and ears, the wind wiped away footprints and created some cool atmospheric effects with backlight.

Ominous clouds over Mesquite Dunes, Death Valley National Park

Storm clouds also did a good job spicing up the dune shots one afternoon.

HDR image from inside a slot canyon in the Funeral Mountains, Death Valley National Park

There seem to be endless side canyons in the mountain ranges throughout the park.  I’ve just scratched the surface with twenty or so canyon hikes, and there are always more on my list.  The guys took us to this little gem in the Funeral Mountains.

Mud Crack Detail along Badwater Road, Death Valley National Park

Sometimes inspiration is available in unlikely places.  This is a detail of a roadside display of mud cracks.  It takes a particular kind of person to appreciate this sort of scene and I’m that kind.

Dune Detail, Death Valley National Park

Details are important to storytelling, and easily found in this magic place if you’re looking for them.

Virga and salt polygons, West Side Road, Death Valley National Park

Dunes and snow, Death Valley National Park

The Mojave Desert lends itself well to dramatic black and white presentations.  These are a couple of favorites from this trip.

Velvet Turtleback, Twenty Mule Team Canyon, Death Valley National Park

I’m sure that, in the planning of this trip, Jerry and Todd were hoping for flowers.  Winter and Spring have been painfully dry in the desert southwest this year, and we didn’t see much.  In fact, this Velvet Turtleback (Psathyrotes ramosissima) was about all I saw.  I celebrated this small victory.

The workshop wrapped at about 3:00 on day five.  At that point, I settled the van in a quiet spot and grabbed that long-delayed nap, then contemplated locations for desert photography next season.

There’s much more in the Spring 2025 Gallery on the website.