"Fortuitousness"

On the last morning of six shooting the Central California Coast, squishing through 3 inches of sucking mud (thank goodness for waterproof boots) I was reflecting on good fortune.  The mud in question was in Doud creek, famously choked with calla lilies.  These flowers are not native to California, but likely escaped from a garden long ago.  Even so they are a favorite subject for photographers.  We were a few weeks early for their bloom and so were delighted to see the flowers in the canyon during an earlier reconnaissance (leaning out the car window looking for blooms) mission.

As I think of it, from Pismo to Carmel there were fortuitous events.

Breathtaking ephemeral pink sunrises, like this one at Julia Pfeiffer Beach, appeared just long enough to get off one or two images.  I was running down the beach to grab this one and I’m glad for it.

Though the Harbor Seals probably lounge every day on the Harford Pier in Avila Beach, we felt as if they were posing and playing just for us. These images were worth lying prone (in prodigious muck) with my chest off the edge of the pier.  Who knew – we thought we were going to shoot only landscapes this trip.

A swell was coming into Carmel just before we headed to the airport.  The waves were elegant and powerful, but so much more so with rainbows in their mist.  This felt like an almost cliché lucky ending to a charmed week.

More lucky shots are in the Northern  California Gallery on the website.

Antsy

Clearing Storm, Peeples Valley AZ

If I go too long without photographing out in nature I start to get uncomfortable.  Jumpy.

There’s a trip planned for next week, so relief is in sight.  Still, I’m hoping that writing about the last trip might help me to limp along until then.

Those of you who have been reading the blog for a while know that according to our tradition Thanksgiving is the family holiday and Christmas week is for traveling.

Valley of Fire, NV

My husband and dog (both of whom seem to have ADD) and I decided to hit some new places this year.    Valley of Fire State Park, the oldest in Nevada, is a 42,000 acre gem packed with some of my favorite things, especially weird rocks.  We camped in the nearly empty campground (cushier than we’re used to with flush toilets and showers) and scouted all over the park.  I fell in love with this little pink and yellow slot; kept coming back.  I’m still not done there and I feel the same about the rest of this park.  Stay tuned; there’ll be more to come.

We met some friends in Tecopa CA, a town that I’d never noticed despite passing through several times on the way to Death Valley.  After a sleepless (very windy) night in the camper, we took in the Amargosa Opera House tour (I’ll just say that the desert brings out the quirky) and retreated to Death Valley to catch up on sleep and effect an attitude adjustment.  We set up in a wind - sheltered area and crashed.

Wind on the Dunes, Death Valley National Park, CA

The next couple of shoots were in the sand dunes.  The wind created some interesting conditions there, so I dressed my camera in rain cover and climbed on up.  Dunes are magical and improbable, fluid.  I think they remind us to be kids.  Photographically they are all sexy lines and curves, inviting the minimalist composition.

Mohave Preserve

There had been some chatter in one of my favorite Facebook photography communities about the Mojave Preserve, between Death Valley and Joshua Tree.  It looked like several people were going to come together there, and I was excited about shooting there for the first time.  The party was a little smaller than we expected, but we did have a delightful opportunity to meet a FB friend and his wife in the real world.  As promised, the Granite Pass area was striking.  We had just the one night in Mojave, but there’s a lot more there and again, I’ll be back.

Finally we dropped by Quartzsite to visit with a friend, setting up for the Gem and Mineral Show.  The show runs through January and is worth a stop; a temporary city in the desert with ample people watching as well as rockhounding.

Antelope Island State Park, UT

There are a couple more holiday traditions; New Years in Yarnell-Peeples Valley and the early January skiing in Utah.  Oddly, we had fabulous snow in the Arizona Mountains but not so much in Utah.  In fact, conditions were so sketchy that we skipped a day skiing and ended up in Antelope Island State Park to wrap up the season.  

The First Sunset of 2015 Reflected on Snow, Yarnell Hill AZ

 Thanks for helping me ward off antsy.  Stay tuned for the Central California Coast.

Monthly Favorites, 2014

What a year.  I’m so pleased to have had the blessings of magical experiences, mentorship, and camaraderie (those last two are sometimes tough to distinguish) this year.  While I’m thrilled to have been included in a number of publications in 2014, the most satisfying one was the fundraising calendar I produced for the Peoria North Rotary Club.  I confess I’ve been putting this off for a couple of years but am so glad to report that it has exceeded expectations.  Thanks so much to all of you who bought, sold, or promoted it.  I’ve learned that the occasion to combine two passions is priceless (though the calendar was $15).

January

The snowpack in the west was dismal.  For the first time I can remember, Marco and I cancelled a ski trip and decided to do a road trip instead, to Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.  It was cold.  There were frustrations, like icebergs in the slot canyons.  There was no one else around, though, so we had the peaceful escape we wanted.  Here’s sunrise behind the iconic Metate Arch.

February

Yeah.  This is a story, but I’ve told it elsewhere. The camper broke down in Death Valley.  I made this image just a few hours before that, when I thought I had 5 more days to shoot.  I’m not a very emotional person as a rule, but I ran the gamut that day.  This is Cow Creek Seep and sunrise on the Panamint Mountains.

March

An opportunity to shoot Lake Powell with Gary Ladd is always a gift.  It was tough to choose my favorite among the images from that trip, but I’m particularly thrilled that this one was published in Outdoor Photographer Magazine.  I love the curves here, and the hint at what has been hidden under water since Glen Canyon Dam was commissioned in 1963.

April

White Pocket, Paria Wilderness.  This place is becoming more popular, but the deep-sand road is doing a good job preventing it from being overwhelmed with visitors.  I introduced my husband and some friends to White Pocket this year.  I don’t think any of them were as thrilled as I.  Come to think of it, that happens a lot.

May

Grand Canyon by raft.  I know; again.  I’ve talked about this elsewhere, as well. Lest I duplicate images from that post, I’ve elected to share this (admittedly Georgia O’Keefe – ish) image of North Canyon.  The graphic quality and peacefulness of this grotto come right back when I look at this image.

June

Lake Tahoe.  Backlighted lupines at sunrise.  I’ll just say that I had a hard time getting my mojo on during the beginning of this trip.  This is the morning I found it, standing in the tall flowers and enjoying the light.

July

This trip marked the beginning of my fascination with the North Rim Grand Canyon Backcountry.  We had a spectacular monsoon season this year, and I love the way the sun broke out, just before setting, during this squall over the canyon.  I took this from the tip of Jumpup Point, a gorgeous place which requires an investment of time and tire tread to reach.

August

I ripped off this concept from Kerrick James, who was kind enough to share it with three of us during an epic day paddling the Colorado River below Hoover Dam.  I believe he coined the name “Emerald Cave.” This day is one of those lifelong memories.

September

My first autumn in Colorado, I was thrilled to be there for the season’s first snow.  I have never been the most graceful in any group, and managed to decorate myself with mud climbing to this vantage point (thanks, Jerry Dodrill).  Grand, flamboyant, cold.  What an afternoon.

October

Acadia.  Again.  This was another tough choice, but it conveys to me the feel of so many intimate vistas in this incredible park which has a bit of almost everything photographically.  I must be hooked, because I’m going back in winter. 

November

Havasupai.  I began to think I was the last Arizona photographer who had not been to this idyllic Grand Canyon tributary.  The turquoise is real.  The falls are real.  The hike (no cars) is no illusion either.  I so loved the foreground cascades with cottonwood leaves pasted under them that this image was a hands-down winner.  I’d love to go again, but perhaps by helicopter.

December

The holiday road trip has become a delightful tradition.  A week on the road with my husband and dog is a joy, and I have the honor of choosing the photogenic locations.  Valley of Fire (Nevada) State Park is a wonderland of rocks.  It can be crowded, but early mornings and off the road one can still find solitude.  I’ve just scratched the surface of this place.

I appreciate your interest and support through 2014 and hope to continue to connect with you next year.

Viewpoint Hopping 2; Good Tires and Hot Chocolate

Fog spills over a ridge, Grand Canyon

I'm getting rather hooked on this viewpoint thing.  You may have read my post about a week traveling unpaved roads to some more remote areas of the North Rim of the Grand Canyon in July. 

There's little better (nor more rare) than solitude at the Canyon, but there is some work involved.  The unpaved roads seduce you into a false calm with their initial smoothness, and then progressively deteriorate into 2 MPH gems paved with carnivorous limestone.

Headed off across the easy part, House Rock Valley area

I’m not complaining mind you; that’s where the good tires come in.  While outfitting the Four Wheel Camper, my husband educated me on E- rated tires.  Now I’m eternally grateful.  Even these tough guys are getting a little torn up, but without them I’d have been unhappily changing tires in some unpleasant locations.  

I have a bad history with tires, too.  Remember the magical delaminating Firestones? A set flipped my Explorer in 1999.  Since then I’m pleased to fork out the cash for good tires.

In October we made the trip out to Toroweap.  This place is more heavily travelled than most of the others and has “amenities;” a campground with composting toilets.  The 61-mile drive is legendary, but true to form, the first 50 are a cakewalk.  The appeal of the place, I think, is that there’s a 3000 foot drop to the bottom of the canyon, and a rather straight stretch of river to the east.  It’s been much-photographed but I enjoyed my first trip there very much.

Buck Farm/Point Hansbrough just before the fog closed in

Just a few days ago I made it to Buck Farm Overlook, only 28 miles off pavement but much more isolated.  I didn’t see a soul.  A photographer friend told me “good luck with the sky.  I don’t think you’ll have any clouds at all.”  Well.  I had about 3 minutes to shoot before a legendary inversion moved in and cut off views beyond my toes.  I’ll have to go back, of course, because I didn’t see the canyon again from that spot.

Fog lifting near Desert View, Grand Canyon

The dog and I spent a night at the South Rim on the way home and I was much better able to take advantage of the foggy conditions there.  That morning it was 26F.  Is there such a thing as freezing fog?

You can guess what the hot chocolate is for.

Images from this trip are in the Grand Canyon Gallery on the website.