Sunset

The Umpqua and the Chainsaw

Jun 22

In 1998 I was in grad school in Southern California and taking a seminar in physical geography. One of our assignments was to write a critique of an essay entitled “Sustaining the World’s Forests” by Janet Abramovitz. I won’t bore you with a discussion about the essay (or my critique!) but suffice to say that I had to do some research in order to craft my critique. As I descended down into the rabbit hole of research, I happened across the website of a group called Umpqua Watersheds (UW). Based out of Roseburg, Oregon, this group was fighting to save old growth stands under threat of logging around the Umpqua River watershed.

At that time in the 1990s, the Umpqua region was the center of renewed attempts to log old growth forests as a result of something called the 1995 Salvage Rider (background link and link). The links better explains it but, briefly, the Salvage Rider was one of those typical unrelated 11th hour amendments attached to a larger piece of federal legislation and it re-opened countless numbers of timber sales that had been previously withdrawn due to environmental concerns. To get their message out, UW used their website to publicize the various sales and the UW case against them, and this was something of a first at that time. It was pretty effective because the combination of narrative and photos taken out in the contested sale units really helped make the point about why these places were so special.

On a trip north to visit the Pacific Northwest one summer, I even tried to visit one of the contested sales (I don’t recall actually making it to the contested site, though). A couple years later, I realized one of my dreams and moved up to Washington State. As my new life in Washington came together, I ended up losing track of what was happening down in the Umpqua. Sometime last year, I got curious about what had happened over the last 16 years. The UW website had been revamped at some point and the new version had largely no mention of its past work. The photographer in me was very curious since I love to go out and photograph lesser known locations.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned it before but my background is in cartography and geographic information systems (GIS), and I decided to put those skills to use in answering the question about what has happened. I spent a lot of time combining spatial data from the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) & US Forest Service with the information that used to be posted on the old UW website (it’s still accessible via Google searches). I was actually able to do quite a lot on my own but, due to the time frame we’re talking about, a lot of content isn’t available online. I eventually contacted UW to ask the proverbial “what happened” question and share the fruits of my own labor. Not only did I get a lengthy, insightful response, I also got a CC response from Francis Eatherington who was UW’s first salaried employee and someone who was deeply involved in the activism as it was happening.

It was a great surprise to have her respond with her thoughts. Even better, she offered to assist me further with my project by offering access to UW’s hardcopy files in order to fill in the gaps I ran up against on my own. It was a fantastic offer that I’d be crazy to turn down. I made my plans to visit and recently got back from my five days down in Roseburg. Before going too much further, I think it’s important to review a little history lesson. Much of the landscape in the Cascade and coastal mountains in Southern Oregon owe its existence to the expansion of the railroads in the 1800s. The Oregon & California (O&C) line was developed to connect Portland to California. The BLM has a more detailed version of events (link here) but the cliff note version is that the company trying to develop the land as part of the O&C expansion ran into issues and the federal government had to step in. What was left was a severely fragmented landscape that resembles a checkerboard where ownership alternates between private and public land every other square mile.

The Bureau of Land Management (BLM) was tasked with management of the federal lands within the checkerboard and its management is largely dictated by the mandates that are part of the O&C Lands Act of 1937. This act really set the tone for resource management in the area (and not in a good way). The act was very pro-logging and mandates that the local counties get reimbursement payments in return for the “loss” of tax revenues due to the O&C land ownership pattern. This worked out pretty good for counties like Douglas for several decades. The 80s gave rise to concerns about the rapid loss of old growth forests in the region and their impacts on Salmon, Spotted Owls, and the Marbled Murrelet.

As the 90s began, the court of public opinion was turning towards the saving of old growth (outside of the logging industry & associated families, that is). A number of timber sales were challenged and successfully stopped. This is the point in time where we circle back to the passing of the Salvage Rider. Through determined efforts, groups like UW were able to defeat some timber sale proposals that were re-introduced as many as three or four times. Around the early 2000s, the last of the Rider area sales reached a resolution and with that, the Rider era timber sales by and large quieted down. Umpqua Watersheds transitioned from an organization focused on activism to one that now promoted education and conservation.

So, 20 years after the passage of the Salvage Rider, what, ultimately has changed? Certainly, logging volumes have certainly declined from their heyday but logging is s a culture / mindset that’s deeply embedded in the community. According to the County, nearly half of the population is directly or indirectly associated with the timber industry. Just down the block from UW’s offices, the city is updating the downtown area and part of that upgrade includes some public art in the form of small sculptures that resemble log rounds. Roseburg’s city seal even includes the phrase “Timber Capital of the World.” County revenues have taken a significant hit thanks to the reduced volumes of timber harvested. Recently, Douglas County opted to clearcut one of its own county parks in order to make up a budget deficit within their parks department. The county is also preparing to join with 17 other counties to sue the BLM about the reduction in the reimbursement payments.

Fragmented as it is, stands of old growth still exist. Visiting them is not like visiting a national park. There’s no fanfare or anticipation; it consists of traveling along logging roads through large sections of industrial clearcuts and knowing where to park and then crashing through brush in order to reach the stands. It’s not always easy, as I learned firsthand. The BLM road network is immense and can be quite confusing. BLM roads might be federal roads but they often must cross through those private ownership sections and sometimes the private owners have elected to install access gates. I ran into this situation with one of the stands I wanted to visit. The addition of a gate added a 2.2 mile, 1,400′ elevation gate hike just to even reach the location of the stand. Having experienced the situation of being locked behind a gate before, I was very concerned about this happening to me and so I wasn’t able to visit all the sites I had hoped to visit.

I’m glad that I did some pre-planning before my trip because it can be easy to get turned around while visiting these old sale units. I made a series of aerial maps for each of the sites that I was going to visit. Additionally, I used the GAIA GPS app on my iPhone to log GPS tracks while in the field and referred to aerial photos I pre-cached each day before heading out. Most sites are located on hillsides which means either climbing up or down in order to explore the site. Pacific Rhododendron, which is a common understory shrub, creates some challenges for a photographer seeking compositions. They have a tendency to grow 10′ or higher and in thickets so it can be hard to see much else in the forest. To counter this, sometimes I would use a 7′ gimbal to raise my camera to a taller height or hold my tripod in the air like a color guard would do with a flag.

After a day and half of exploring on my own, I finally had my meeting in Roseburg with Francis Eatherington at the Umpqua Watersheds office. Initially, I had only expected to spend 4-5 hours but the depth and wealth of material prompted me to change my plans and I spent the whole day scanning pages. In addition to a floor to ceiling bookcase full of project binders, they also had 2 file cabinets with more files. It wasn’t hard to get sucked into the history; many pages had hand written comments and just bringing up the name of a timber sale would prompt some story or recollection from Francis. Time flew by quickly and soon it was 5pm and Francis had to leave to attend some lands committee meeting.

Before leaving, Francis offered to “guide” me the next day at one of the timber sales and that was a fantastic opportunity which I knew I couldn’t pass up. After Francis left, one of the UW board members suggested we go grab some dinner to talk some more about the region and my mapping project. Over that dinner, he recalled numerous stories of how logging (and the timber industry in general) have impacted the region. Some things, like how clearcutting steep slopes leads to landslides, is fairly obvious but others impacts aren’t so obvious to the untrained eye. For example, I remarked how many streams in the region (not just the Umpqua) ran over bedrock bottoms, devoid of much cobble. As it turns out, in Oregon, you can thank logging for this. One factor was an early practice which loggers would fell trees into streams and let high flows transport the logs. A second factor was a puzzling decision by the State that rock in streams was bad for salmon and so timber sale contracts had stipulations that required the contractor to clear streams of rock. Just crazy.

It was a great day of conversation and I have a lot of admiration for people that continue do work under such adversity. The next morning I touched base with Francis and made plans to meet and head over to the sale units from the East Fork Coquille timber sale. Located about 25 miles southwest of Roseburg, this was a sale proposed by the BLM but was successfully defeated on appeals. These units are located in the coast range and have stand ages over 300 years old. I did visit a couple of these units after arriving in Roseburg but those were quick, cursory visits. We eventually decided to visit Unit 108, which is near 50 acres in size. The unit isn’t as steeply sloped as many other units so traversing through the unit wasn’t as bad. That being said, there were still many large thickets of dense Rhododendron that made travel interesting.

The unit has plenty of big trees- Douglas Fir and Western Hemlock. It actually has quite a high concentration of big trees per acre and that’s one of the reasons that UW sought to save these units from the chainsaw. Francis recalled that there was at least one 7′ diameter tree somewhere inside the stand and I’m sure that we passed by it at some point. Our deepest penetration into the unit was a point along the east edge of the unit. The edge outside the unit had experienced some thinning and the big trees extended literally up to and along the unit boundary. Despite blue sunny skies, I didn’t have too bad a day photographing the forest and trees. Overexposure was an issue but I was able to bracket scenes using multiple exposures to capture the range from shadow to sun. We had to head back eventually but it was a really great time out in this unit.

It was now mid afternoon and Francis was willing to take me to another sale somewhat nearby named Dickerson Heights. This time, we encountered a gate right off the highway. It was shut- but wasn’t locked. Nonetheless, I was still skittish about passing through the gate. We called it a day & headed back to Roseburg. Over dinner, Francis suggested a number of options for me to check out the following day (my last full day down in the area). I ended up with a lengthy & ambitious list and the next day I tried to tackle all of it.

My first stop was a portion of the North Umpqua Trail in the vicinity of Susan Creek. The trail is a pretty long trail and entry/exit points are separated by somewhat lengthy intervals. As it turns out, a new bridge across the Umpqua was built just a couple years ago which drops you off right into a beautiful stretch of old growth forest. Boy- was Francis right about this one! It had big trees, a nice understory with lots of Oxalis. I could have continued on and explored longer but I had too many other stops to make. I couldn’t have asked for a better start to the day, though! The next stop was Toketee Falls which was as beautiful as all the photos I’ve seen. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as inspired photo wise since compositions are extremely limited due to the dangerous nature of visiting the falls (officially, there’s only a small elevated platform).

Near Toketee Falls, was my next stop: the Loafer Timber Sale Units. This sale is actually a fairly recent one (proposed 2011/2012) but threatened some pretty large trees just like the older sales. Accessing these units was a little more difficult because the units I was visited were situated away from existing roads and required bushwhacking in order to gain access. The chances of getting confused and lost were high so I made sure I logged a GPS track. Francis had told me that there was an old road that led into the area of the units but she couldn’t recall how to find it. I tried following what I thought was a slight sign of a road that I spied in an aerial. I wasn’t really convinced that I was actually on the road but, as luck would have it, during a traverse around a nasty Rhododendron thicket, I stumbled onto the old road. There was no doubt about it, especially since it was flagged at regular intervals.

Following the road, I would occasionally stop and check out any flagging that had writing on it. One flag caught my eye. It read: “RVT Possible Trees 280° / 150 ft”. Deciphered, it means “Red Tree Vole habitat trees possible, bearing 280° in 150 feet”. This means big trees are nearby! I hopped of the road in search of the trees being referenced. I should mention that mosquitoes were HORRENDOUS at this location despite no obvious sources of water. I was lathered up with bug juice but it wasn’t helping all that much. It really made it hard to keep going but I did. The further I went into the sale units, the more photogenic the forest became. In addition to the big trees, there was finally a nice understory with Vanilla Leaf, Oregon Oxalis, and Star-Flowered Soloman’s Seal. A person can stand only so much mosquito harassment so I made steady progress back to my truck to keep the day moving.

My next stop was a unit from a contentious sale named Snog. While this sale was logged, there was one unit that was saved. It’s located higher up in the Fish Creek drainage and it came recommended by Francis. All was well until I turned onto the last spur road to the unit. I didn’t know it at the time but this was the first of what would be many roads with windfall to deal with. Someone else had gone through and cleared away the worst blockages but I ended up making the passages wider for my benefit and for others. It ended up taking way too long and I made the tough decision to bail out of this stop.

At 4pm, there were only a couple hours of daylight left and I was planning on visiting Crater Lake for sunset. My attempts to visit some locations between Lemolo Lake and Diamond Lake didn’t pan out due to a lot of windfall that hindered access. I realized that I would be rushing my time anyplace I decided to visit before sunset. I eventually just decided to drive up to the northwest rim of Crater Lake to set up for sunset. This was my first ever visit to Crater Lake and fortunately the north entrance to the park just opened the week before. Despite being open, there was still ample amounts of snow up around the rim. A nice sunset didn’t look too promising a few hours before sunset but things changed favorably closer to actual sunset. I would have enjoyed the nice sunset a little more if not for the constant 30mph winds and 40° temperatures.

For my last morning, I attempted to visit a sale named Diamondback, which was located about 10 miles northwest of Sutherlin. I ended up getting confused/lost while driving to the unit. The area has experienced a recent round of logging (that wasn’t visible in the latest aerial photos) and some new roads were built which I inadvertently turned onto. It wasn’t the greatest way to end a trip but it was an exploratory trip. The Umpqua region is quite beautiful but suffers from a tortured environmental history. Although I went to visit sites from the past, I’ve come to realize that my trip now comes at the right time. Both the BLM and Forest Service are beginning the process of updating their long term management plans. Both agencies (the BLM especially) are under fire to increase logging production thanks to budget shortfalls in the C&O counties.

The Spotted Owl and Marbled Murrelet are still at risk species and their suitable habitat has not expanded. In fact, those same locations are likely to become the target of chainsaws once again. It’s important document what makes them so special, and that’s what I hope my contributions do. There are many, many locations I want to visit and photograph so I have unfinished business down in the Umpqua. This won’t be my only post about the Umpqua moving forward.

Crater Lake Sunset – 6/2/2016 from Steve Cole on Vimeo.

If you’re interested in viewing my web map project of timber sales within the Umpqua basin, you can view that map here.

Goodbye 2014

Dec 29

2014 is nearly in the books and I, for one, say good riddance. It was a year largely full of other commitments and little photography. I photographed sunrise on New Years Day and promptly broke the zoom ring on one of my lenses. Five months later, I dunked all of my gear in a river. Thankfully, most of the gear survived after a week of drying in a bag of rice but I did end up replacing one zoom lens with a new (used) copy and repairing my New Years Day lens a second time. My photography largely consisted of a week long trip to South Florida’s Gulf Coast during July 4th and a few day trips on either side of that. Despite the challenges of the past year, I have selected ten photos to highlight my year:

1.) The Storm – Sanibel Island, Florida

Storm clouds are probably somewhat fitting given my year. Taken during my week long stay on Sanibel Island, Florida, these storm clouds developed during sunrise towards the end of my trip. Gotta love the short walk from the rented guesthouse to the beach!

More photos from this trip can be found in my blog post here.

2.) The Hills Are Alive – Leavenworth, Washington State

One of my regular outings during spring is a trip over the mountains to the Leavenworth area to photograph the balsamroot flower displays. This year, I timed the trip perfectly to explore a new location. An entire hillside of blooming flowers all to myself!

More photos from this trip can be found in my blog post here.

3.) Worth the Wait – Glacier Peak Wilderness

My most recent outing which holds some special significance to me. This photo marks my return to Green Mountain in the Glacier Peak Wilderness. This location has largely been inaccessible for the last decade due to flood damage to the primary access road. Green Mountain was one of the first locations that I was taken to by friends once I moved up to Washington State. Once the road was finally repaired, I had to visit this place once again. Just visiting once again would have been enough but the sunset on this day turned out to be pretty spectacular.

More photos from this trip can be found in my blog post here.

4.) Sanibel Storm – Sanibel Island, Florida

During my visit to Florida, I got to experience several nights of “heat lightning.” The heat and humidity of the daylight hours turns into lightning offshore during the overnight hours. It was quite mesmerizing standing on the beach watching the constant lightning strikes. Thankfully, I was never in any danger while outside photographing it. I’ve only tried photographing lightning once before so I got plenty of practice!

More photos from this trip can be found in my blog post here.

5.) Gotcha – J. N. ‘Ding’ Darling National Wildlife Refuge

I’m not much of a wildlife photographer but love to photograph it given the opportunity. During my trip to Florida, the J. N. ‘Ding’ Darling National Wildlife Refuge was just five minutes away from where we were staying. I only was able to make two trips to the refuge but enjoyed the time.

More photos from this trip can be found in my blog post here.

6.) Stranglehold – Big Cypress National Preserve

For our trip to Florida, We actually flew in and out of Fort Lauderdale and doubled back via car to Sanibel Island. Rather than take the quicker I-75, we opted for US-41 which took us through Big Cypress National Preserve. This Strangler Fig caught my eye during our quick stop at Kirby Storter Roadside Park.

More photos from this trip can be found in my blog post here.

7.) Aurora Not-at-all-us – Mount Baker

At the end of this past summer, a promising aurora alert was issued after a solar flare and, for once, it coincided with clear skies. I staked it out for two nights but alas, the auroras never came. I was left with a few nice nighttime photos of Mount Baker and a couple newly scouted locations.

8.) Origins – Sanibel Island, Florida

This photo was taken in the pre-dawn minutes the same morning as photo #1. The heat lightning from the previous night was finally dying down but not before a few more strikes during the advancing light of the new day.

More photos from this trip can be found in my blog post here.

9.) Supermoon Reflection – Heather Meadows

I swore I would never photograph Mount Shuksan from Picture Lake. The scene is SO tired and has been photographed to death. As it turned out, I stopped by the lake on a whim suggestion by my friend after we had photographed the super moon’s rise at sunset. No one was present and the mist rising off the lake provided the qualities I was seeking to set my photo apart from the thousands (if not millions) of other Picture Lake photos.

10.) Lava Lamp – Baring Mountain

This photo is just one photo from a series taken during a spectacular sunrise this fall. It was actually the culmination of repeated sunrise attempts at this particular location. The vindication was especially satisfying!

More photos from this trip can be found in my blog post here.

So there are my ten photos. I also continued my tradition throughout the year of shooting time lapses with my GoPro camera. Here’s a recap video I put together from my Florida trip:

Florida Gulf Coast – July 2014 from Steve Cole on Vimeo.

Reunion

Nov 11

After moving to Washington State in 1999, one of the first “new” hikes I was introduced to was the Green Mountain trail in the Glacier Peak Wilderness. After a quick forest portion, the hike opens up to a wonderful steep meadow with huge views towards Glacier Peak. For the hardier, the trail continues through an upper basin and concludes with a 1,000 foot climb up to the summit of Green Mountain and an old fire lookout. The meadows are rich in diversity and density and they have always left me in awe. In 2003 and again in 2006, Western Washington encountered “100-year” flood events which ravaged both the lowlands and the mountains. In the Suiattle River valley, the main access road to the trailhead (Forest Service Road 26) washed out in several locations. These washouts effectively cut off access to the trail for all but the hardiest of people due to the additional 13 miles of road walking required to reach the official trailhead.

Although federal repair funds were secured relatively soon after the damage, the repair process drug out many years due to the NEPA (National Environmental Policy Act) process for the environmental permitting of the proposed repairs followed immediately by an environmental group’s legal challenge against repairing the road. Even when all of this was resolved, it took 2 years to complete all of the necessary repairs. In late October, the repairs were finally complete and access was finally restored. Winter is fast approaching and the window for visiting Green Mountain is closing. The partly sunny forecast for Saturday was more than enough reason to make a trip to Green Mountain a reality.

I suspected that others would also have the same idea to visit Green Mountain but I didn’t expect THAT many people would be of like minds! Parking at the trailhead was like a rock concert with cars parked everywhere. During our hike up, we counted close to 100 people whom we passed as they made their way back down. Despite the constant passing of hikers, everything special about this place was still there. Rounding a corner of the trail would re-ignite a memory about what was just around the corner. The anticipation of reaching the meadows was high and only magnified as the forest began to give way. After so many years, the forest finally gave way to wide open skies. Far below us, the roar of the Suiattle River were the only sounds.

Hiking was slow & steady with the constant view of Glacier Peak. At the upper margin of the meadow, the trail passes through a stand of Alaska Yellow Cedar which have a wonderful distinct smell to them. Beyond the cedars, the trail skirts the forest for a short climb up to the small basin below the summit of Green Mountain. Once again, the anticipation of seeing the small tarn basin built as we got closer & closer to the small crest at the edge of the basin. The basin is somewhat sheltered so it still was retaining a thin coating of snow from one of the early fall snows. The three miles to this point have a moderate rate of ascent but the next section of trail that gains 600′ up to the summit ridgeline is the steepest stretch of the entire hike.

Our slow & steady pace up to this point was putting us slightly behind schedule. I wanted to be up on the summit ridgeline for sunset so that I had multiple options available to me for whatever would happen during sunset and I definitely wanted the ability to photograph Dome Peak, which is located to the east of Green Mountain. It’s NOT easy to pick up the pace on the steepest stretch of trail with a 30 pound pack but that’s what I had to do. During the course of our hike, the weather went from partly sunny to high overcast to darker clouds from the advancing storm front. Doubts had been starting to develop as to what would happen during sunset but the persistence of a clear portion of the horizon to the southwest continued to give hope.

Finally up on the ridge, I needed to take a small waypath down the ridge for a short distance to gain some more open views. This eastern side of the ridge was still retaining some fall snow and that made a few of the traverse moves more interesting than I would have liked. Moving slowly and purposely, I made my way down the ridge until I reach the point where I could photograph west, south, or east. It was within an hour until sunset so I had to work quickly to set up my GoPro for my sunset time lapse. This was my first outing with a new GoPro accessory the Lee Bug Filter System, which provides a polarizing and 3-stop Neutral Density filter options for use with GoPro Hero 3s (and 3+s). The GoPro cameras do not have the same dynamic range as larger, more traditional cameras. During many of my previous sunset/sunrise time lapses, the scenes are typically unbalanced with a dark foreground and a horizon / sky that borders on being overexposed. The Lee system’s ND Grad filter should help address this issue and enable me to capture a more balanced composition.

I fumbled around and set everything up as quickly as I could. I gambled on a composition that would stretch from Dome Peak on the left side over to Glacier Peak to the right. Now that the time lapse was under way, I could now pull out my camera and begin photographing the developing sunset. The narrow break in the clouds to the west was beginning to show the early stages of color but everywhere else seemed to be stuck in grey and stormy clouds. The color continued to progress and it was becoming clear that my focus would mainly be towards the west. Thankfully, I did keep my head on a swivel and was aware of a brief but glorious few minutes when the full power and color of sunlight spilled across the area (including behind me on Dome Peak and towards the north near Mount Buckindy. Sadly, this development didn’t last and further develop like I hoped. You can see it as a brief flash in my time lapse.

As disappointing as that was, it was become QUITE clear something special was going to happen back towards the west. That slow build of color that I photographed at sunrise near Index a few weeks ago was going to happen here as well.

Green Mountain Sunset Time Lapse – 11/8/2014 from Steve Cole on Vimeo.

Ssssupermoon

Aug 24

The second “supermoon” of this year occurred August 10th and I fell prey to its allure. Instead of shooting the actual supermoon, I opted to photograph it the day before. Why? Well- the actual supermoon would rise just 18 minutes before sunset but moon rise the day before was almost a full hour before sunset. This mattered to me because that meant a better chance of a balanced exposure of the bright supermoon and any landscape elements it rose above. Having shot a full moon rising above ridges just after sunset, the photos are either going to be underexposed to account for the moon’s brightness or overexposed for the moon in order to properly exposure for the rest of the photograph.

Having decided the right day to head out, the next question was where to go. Using my standard photo planning tools (The Photographer’s Ephemeris and Google Earth), I evaluated several options located up & down the Mountain Loop Highway east of Granite Falls but nothing strong stood out. I don’t like to just keep going to the same spot over & over but this time it made sense. All the research pointed towards a return trip to Kulshan Ridge & Huntoon Point near Mount Shuksan. The research indicated that the moon would rise above Mount Shuksan just east of a feature called the Hourglass at Point 7848 (this ridge separates the Curtis Glacier from the Sulphide Glacier). Any longtime blog visitors will know that Huntoon Point is a regular destination for me during winter. In summer, it’s made even easier by the Mount Baker Highway which ends at Artist Point. All that’s left is a short hike of less than 0.5 miles to Huntoon Point.

My thoughts were to try and set up at one of the tarns located near Huntoon Point since it adds a nice foreground to the very obvious fabulous background. I came overprepared- I had my GoPro for a time lapse, my regular camera kit,my Sigma 50-500mm lens & gimbal for super telephotos and finally my Pentax Q camera and K-mount adapter for potentially super-duper telephotos of the moon. After surveying the scene below the Huntoon Point’s high point, I settled down in a small cliff with flowering heather on one side of a tarn. I set up & fired off the GoPro and then returned to my camera gear for some big camera photographs. Given the late hour, it was quiet and peaceful with only an occasional person passing through on their way back to the parking lot.

My friend headed off to find his own compositions and I tried to work my own. I wanted to work incorporate some of the heather in bloom around me but the depth of field coupled with the rocky cliffs made this a huge challenge. I actually couldn’t use a tripod so I tried to hand cradle the camera as firmly as possible. The skies were pretty much cloud free for sunset; in the minutes leading up to the appearance of the super moon, a family of 6 appeared out of nowhere and promptly decided to plop down in my foreground. groan. Exactly what I was hoping to avoid but- it happened anyway. I was angry but the fact is I don’t own the scene in front of me. Others are entitled to it just as much as I am.

As the moon began to appear over Mount Shuksan, I turned to my Sigma 50-500 lens for some telephoto shots. The sudden appearance of a crowd hamstrung my options and I could not take any sort of a wide angle shot of the moon & Mount Shuksan without including people in the frame. It was still early so I made the decision to gather my gear and quickly find another spot. The downside, of course, was that it did mean that I had to abruptly end my GoPro time lapse. I repositioned to a vantage point that I’ve also used in the winter that’s a bit further off the beaten path. I had a little bit more time until the difference in brightness between the landscape and the moon became too much to continue.

As my friend and I broke down our gear for the return trip to the truck, my friend suggested that we make a quick stop at Picture Lake to see if anything was happening. If you don’t know Picture Lake by name, you will know it by photo. It is considered one of those “icons” that photographers put on their bucket lists. Hundreds of thousands of photos have been taken of it and made into things such as jigsaw puzzles and who knows what else. By my own beliefs, it’s been overdone. It’s really hard to come up with anything that would be considered remotely original. This is why you haven’t seen a photograph of it by me. Until now.

We arrived at the boardwalk around the lake and were the only people there. Granted, it was now dark but having a place all to yourself is always special. Due to its popularity, Picture Lake is being loved to death. It is a sensitive area with a short growing season and it cannot compete with the constant beating that feet bring. People don’t always respect this and stay on the constructed boardwalk that lines the perimeter of the lake. Arriving at one of the boardwalk decks along the shore, we found a light mist / fog rising from the water’s surface and drifting across to the north. THIS was a fine example of the different type of Picture Lake composition that I wanted to photograph!

We spent the better part of the next hour taking photos. This was my maiden outing with the new Sigma 18-35 f1.8 lens and I wanted to take advantage of that. The Pentax mount version of this lens was announced over a year ago but only recently began shipping. It is something I’ve been eagerly waiting for. I’ve wanted a faster lens for taking night/star photography since my current Sigma 17-70mm F2.8-4 leaves a lot to be desired. At $800, it is pricy but I had trouble trying to decide on one of the various Samyang/Bower/Rokinon lens offerings that many night photographers have embraced. I kinda wished that it was a bit wider than 18mm but the constant 1.8 aperature across the 18-35 zoom lens seemed like a great solution for me.

Here are some quick observations about the lens so far- like many people have reported across the internet, I will confirm that it’s quite heavy but with a good build quality. Manual focusing with it is a step up from my older Sigma 17-70. The movement of the focus ring has just the right amount of resistance without being too loose and sloppy. Focusing at f1.8 has a narrow tolerance but I didn’t think that the focus ring made it MORE difficult. The constant f1.8 really brings in the light so the mere act of focusing using live view on my camera was vastly improved compared with my older lens.

It’s tough for a “consumer” lens to be perfect and I will admit that the 18-35 does suffer from lens flare in wide open conditions. This is something that others on the internet have experienced. I will say that I was surprised to experience it at the hands of the full moon. Initially, with the super moon still lower in the sky, I was making compositions where the actual moon and it’s reflection on the water’s surface were in the same frame. These shots would exhibit noticeable flare that would diminish if you stopped down. Eventually, I had to re-compose my photos to exclude the actual moon, and leaving the reflected moon in.

I wanted to also try some star photography but the super moon just isn’t the time for that. I am looking forward to experimenting more with this lens in the coming weeks. Here’s the abbreviated time lapse from that evening:

Mount Shuksan sunset and super moon time lapse – 8/9/2014 from Steve Cole on Vimeo.

Florida Skies

Aug 17

To close out my small series of blog posts about my trip to Florida, I’ve saved what might be the best for last- those Florida skies. I don’t want to say that I took it as a given that there would be some great sunsets and sunrises during our stay but- I kinda did. We’d be staying on Sanibel Island’s Gulf side which faces west so it’s like shooting fish in a barrel, right? Err- sort of.

What I ended up learning during my week there was that sunrises and sunsets had different challenges. Sanibel Island (and Captiva Island which is connected by a small bridge) is shaped like a banana. Our lodging for the week was the Island Inn (which I cannot recommend highly enough) and it faces almost due south. This small point was driven home during our first afternoon when the setting sun went down directly over the beach on our right side. Sanibel Island is a popular tourist destination so I wanted to minimize my chances of people appearing in my compositions and this meant I would have to figure out some alternate locations for sunsets.

Sunsets
The biggest challenge with shooting sunsets from Sanibel Island is going to be that, for the majority of the beaches, the sun sets directly above the shore break. On a tourist heavy location like Sanibel, this means that you’re going to have people in your compositions. In order to have photos with the sun setting over the Gulf, you’ll need to head north to Sanibel Island where the beaches have more of a western aspect. On one particular afternoon, there weren’t any good clouds to the west but there was a huge thunderhead towards the south out over the Gulf. If you find yourself in similar conditions, consider heading to the south end of Sanibel Island to the Lighthouse Beach Park. I was able to photograph the thunderhead with side lighting from sunset and this worked out quite well. There’s potentially another option but I don’t have experience with it. I’ve seen some nice “sunset” photos taken within Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge. The problem is that the refuge closes a half hour before sunset so I don’t know feasible this is.

Sunrises
This is more problematic than sunsets. Unless you’re staying someplace on the bay side of the island, public access to the bay side is pretty limited. Ding Darling would be nice for sunrise but it doesn’t open until after actual sunrise. The sure shot is to photograph the western beaches and just enjoy the backlight that any offshore clouds would embrace. The previously mentioned Lighthouse Beach Park provided the best bay side waterfront access I could muster during my week there. There is some driftwood present that can provide foreground interest along with some living trees/shrubs. The view back across San Carlos Bay is pretty open with only a faint display of development (2 or 3 high rises). The biggest downside to this location were the people collecting seashells. Despite the early hour there was a steady stream of people and they didn’t really care about photographers set up & taking photographs.

All that being said, here’s my quick rundown on the various locations I utilized:

Lighthouse Beach Park-
Pros: Good for sunrise; good for certain sunsets (storm clouds over Gulf); plenty of parking; not as crowded
Cons: Sea shell hunters numerous and oblivious/uncaring about photographers

Bowman’s Beach Park-
Pros: Lots of Parking; 4 miles of beach so lots of opportunities; Easy to loose the majority of people with a short hike up the beach; located at start of island’s aspect change to due west
Cons: Still faces a little too much towards the southwest; tire tracks in beach sand (from sea turtle monitoring 4WD vehicles)

Turner Beach-
Pros: Westernmost- facing aspect for Sanibel Island proper; short hike north to lose the sunset crowds
Cons: Limited parking on either side of bridge; lots of people immediately on either side of Blind Pass

Captiva Beach (Captiva Island)
Pros: Westernmost facing aspect that you can get on Sanibel/Captiva Island
Cons: Lots of people near parking lot so short hike south needed to find a thinner spot along the beach; potential for people walking through your frame; parking limited

If all of that isn’t enough to keep you busy, there is also the opportunity for some storm photography! The high humidity of Florida generates afternoon thunderstorms and something called heat lightning. Several evenings, after 10pm, I noticed regular flashes of lightning out over the Gulf. I spent about an hour each of these evenings photographing the stars, lighting, and the Gulf. I was skeptical that I would be able to see the Milky Way given all the development up and down the Gulf Coast but I was successful! Except for the bites from sand fleas, I could have sat there for hours watching the lightning and listening to the waves lapping the shore.

As I learned, the trick was to get into rhythm with the lightning. Once you’re in sync with the lightning’s timing, you’ll start getting a lot of photos with lighting. Once you’re set up, wait for the first lightning strike. After it flashes, wait another 2-3 seconds and then click the shutter for a long exposure. This should get you in sync with the lightning. You always won’t be so lucky, though. During my sunset shoot at Lighthouse Beach Park, the thunderhead over the Gulf also had lightning striking the water for over a half hour. Despite my best attempts, neither my SLR or my GoPro shooting a time lapse could successfully capture any of the strikes. That was very, very frustrating!

That pretty much wraps up my trip to Florida. I didn’t know what to expect and, although I certainly felt flustered and overwhelmed at times, the trip and opportunities far exceeded any expectations I had. Finally, I’ll leave you with this compilation of the various time lapses I shot during my various sunrise & sunset sessions. Enjoy!

Florida Gulf Coast – July 2014 from Steve Cole on Vimeo.

BC on Ice

Dec 16

Last year was my first visit up to the Harrison Mills vicinity in British Columbia, Canada. Every year from mid-November through December, thousands of Bald Eagles descend on this area to feast on returning salmon. It’s one of the largest gatherings of eagles outside of Alaska and last year did not disappoint. I had targeted two weekends to visit this year and ended up not making the first weekend. The second weekend came and promised sunny but cold conditions. Just like last year, I made plans to meet up with Michael Russell.

The week leading up to our trip out to Harrison Mills was the coldest stretch of weather the Pacific Northwest has experienced in the last 15 years. Environment Canada even issued what they call is an “arctic outflow” warning for the early part of the day. It’s basically a technical sounding term for really cold winds originating from the interior coming down the Fraser like a runaway freight train. As we crossed the Fraser on Highway 11, we got our first view of how the day would go: icy. The river had wide stretches of ice as as we could see up and down stream.

East of Derouche, we pulled off the highway to check a certain slough and it was solidly frozen over. We started to realize that if the water was frozen over, the eagles probably weren’t going to be able to dine on salmon! As we drove through Harrison Mills, eagles were few and far between. We pulled off at Harrison Flats where last year we enjoyed quite a nice show of eagles. This year….not so much. There were a half dozen eagles hanging out in the trees but only one lone eagle feasting on a salmon. Lucky for us, that happened to be right below the pullout in front of us. For at least 10 minutes, we were treated to a great photo opportunity.

The eagle flew away and suddenly it was pretty quiet. It seemed like a good time to load up and keep looking. We stopped by Kilby Provincial Park and it was also free of any eagles. We drove around to the other side of Woodside Mountain to check out Mountain Slough. Nothing but cold winds. It was pretty clear that the day of eagle watching was over and it was time for Plan B. Michael suggested that we head a little further east to Hope and check out Silver Lake Provincial Park for sunset. That sounded good to me so off we went.

Silver Lake Provincial Park lies 4 miles up Silverhope Creek and features Silver Lake which is nestled at the base of several prominent mountains. The canyon leading to Silver Lake runs north/south and is heavily incised so it doesn’t get much sunlight in winter. Just shy of the turnoff to the park is Eureka Falls, which is a waterfall that directly spills into Silverhope Creek. Not surprisingly, the waterfall was completely frozen on this day but you could just make out water running down below the ice. Anything looking wet was actually ice so you had to be extra careful with footing.

Having had our fill with Eureka Falls, we turned out attention to Silver Lake. The access gate and spur road leading to the park was just up ahead from Eureka Falls. The access gate was open and the road snow-free and that allowed us to drive the remaining half mile to the park’s entrance gate. We parked next to Sowerby Creek which also had plenty of interesting ice formations. In retrospect, I wish I had taken a little time to photograph them. We returned to my truck after sunset but it was too dark by then. The lake and campground is just a five minute stroll beyond Sowerby Creek.

Silver Lake is a nice sized lake (about 95 acres in size) in a very peaceful setting. High peaks line both sides of the valley but the most prominent peaks (Hope Mountain, Wells Peak, and Mount Grant) tower above the eastern shore of the lake. The lake was well frozen, though we weren’t about to test the thickness of the ice. Sunset was largely cloud free except to the south where a few wispy clouds hung out. Sunset was nondescript but it was peaceful and we had the whole area to ourselves. It only got colder once sunset was done so it was time to call it a day and head home.

We passed a couple of other parked cars as drove drove back down the park access road. As I crossed the bridge over Silverhope Creek, I noticed something wrong- the gate was closed. Oh oh. I parked on the bridge and we got out to go look at the gate. Yeeup, definitely closed. And locked. WTF! I had no tools with me so this suddenly became a bad situation. Michael mentioned that he saw some discarded items back up where we parked outside the park’s entrance that we might be able to use to bust the lock. I certainly had no better options to offer so we headed back uphill to go retrieve the objects.

We encountered the two other cars coming downhill as we headed back up. They were both Hope area locals and were NOT happy when we told them that we were all locked in. We told them about our “plan” and continued uphill as they drove down towards the gate. Having loaded up a metal t-bar post with a concrete base, we headed back downhill to the gate. We arrived to find only one car and a wide open gate. What the hell happened??! As it turns out, the second person (who had an older full size pickup) was angry enough about the situation that he either rammed the gate or nudged up to it and punched it open. Either way, we were free once again!

Seeing how it was -12°C / 10°F outside, I was relieved that we didn’t have to hike back down to Hope to find a pair of bolt cutters. That was certainly a fitting way to end a day filled with adjustments. The gate wasn’t signed at all so why it was closed on us is still kind of a mystery. One of the Hope locals mentioned something about local logging operations which had concerns about their equipment getting vandalized up in the area so maybe one of their people locked us in without bothering to check. Whatever the case, I’ve learned a valuable lesson- CARRY BOLT CUTTERS!

Huntoon Point

Nov 26

Now that winter is firmly under way, I paid my first visit of the winter to Huntoon Point and Artist Ridge near the Mount Baker Ski Area. Things looked pretty discouraging for sunset since most of the color developing was well south of us in the central part of the Puget Sound. Without much warning, things began to change. The color began to creep east towards Hagen Mountain and Mount Blum. Suddenly, color exploded over Table Mountain, and then Goat Mountain and Mount Larrabee, followed finally by Mount Baker itself. The color was fleeting and I had to move quickly from composition to composition. The last hurrah of sunset finally faded away 15 minutes after sunset and the increasing cold signaled that it was time to head home.

No two days are ever the same which is all the more reason to keep making regular visits to locations you love to photograph..

Lastly, a little time lapse of Mount Shuksan:

Tapto Lakes

Sep 18

“If you want blood, you got it” – AC/DC

This report is a bit longer than normal, for reasons that will become obvious.

A visit to Tapto Lakes and Whatcom Pass in North Cascades National Park has been on my wish list for a number of years. Each year I thought to myself that this was the year I’d make a go of it but never did. My regular backpacking partner hates the “rigidity” of NPS backpacking and also had knee surgery. If I was to do this, I would have to do this solo. Could I do it? It’s a two day approach and I’ll admit, this was a bit daunting to me. None the less, this was finally was my year and through a series of unrelated events, the timing of my trip coincided with clear and sunny skies. My plan was such:

Day One: Hannegan Pass Trailhead to U.S. Cabin Camp
Day Two: U.S. Cabin Camp to Tapto Lakes
Day Three: Tapto Lakes
Day Four: Tapto Lakes
Day Five: Tapto Lakes to Copper Creek Camp
Day Six: Copper Creek Camp to Hannegan Pass Trailhead

I headed out Sunday morning and stopped off at the NPS / FS Center in Sedro-Woolley only to be told that they don’t issue any permits for that area (FYI- you need to go to the Glacier Visitor Center for that). It’s still on the way so no big deal; An hour or so later, I stopped in Glacier to get my permit and, thankfully, I was able to get all of my plan permitted. Another hour or so later, I was headed up the trail towards Hannegan Pass.

The frontside trail up to Hannegan Pass is in great shape with still water available along the trail (not at the number of opportunities as earlier in the summer however). Flowers have been pretty much done for a little while but the views never go away. From Hannegan Pass onward, everything was new to me. After descending to the National Park boundary and Boundary Camp, the trail re-enters the forest and begins its descent. That descent seemed pretty blunt and I remember thinking that I wouldn’t look forward to this on my way back out.

The trail’s descent does ease a little as you approach Copper Creek camp. After a hydration break, I started out on the final 2.6 miles to U.S. Cabin Camp. The forest in the Chilliwack River valley is beautiful. At times, it’s mossy and with a diverse understory. Lots of big trees, too. My time seemed to also coincide with an explosion of mushrooms. Hundreds of them were everywhere and all sorts of varieties (I’m no mycologist). The size of some of these things was incredible.

Another thing there was plenty of was blowdown. It looks like the Park Service didn’t get much trail maintenance done either on the Chilliwack or Brush Creek Trail this year (sequestration anyone?). Much of the downed wood could be stepped over but there were a few times between U.S. Cabin and Graybeal Camp where you had to remove the pack to negotiate your way through it. Late in the afternoon, I arrived at U.S. Cabin and eventually found my site for the night. The forest around the camp is also beautiful and the quick stroll out to the Chilliwack River offers a few views of Copper Ridge high above or Mineral Mountain back up valley.

I had a pleasant night at U.S. Cabin with the exception of one party near the stock camp who was hooting & hollering like they were dispersed car camping. Eventually, they also settled down for the night. I was tired after the long day and part of me still wondered if I had it in me to make it up to Tapto Lakes. The next morning I headed out about 8:30 and took the obligatory cable car ride across the Chilliwack. Good times! Beyond here, I took a brief break at the Brush Creek bridge crossing for a few pictures and then continued on to Graybeal Camp.

From Graybeal, the fun ends and the work begins- 3 miles and 2,000’ of gain to Whatcom Pass. Much of the way is in forest so that does shield you from the sun. Make no mistake- in the middle of the day, it’s still warm so my progress with a full pack was slow. Views open up and teaser views of Whatcom Pass, Whatcom Peak, and Tapto Lakes basin above begin but that turn off for Whatcom Camp seemingly would never come. FINALLY, about 4:30pm I made Whatcom Pass. There’s no signage at the pass so it’s a little understated. I admired the Little Bear Creek valley to the north during a break before doubling back for the waypath up towards Tapto Lakes.

I didn’t quite know what to expect of the trail from the pass up to Tapto and I can tell you I wasn’t ready for what it actually is: a waypath. Actually, it’s more like a fisherman’s trail during your ascent through the trees immediately above the pass with a few select class III moves thrown in for good measure. Not what you want after a long day on the trail and with a full pack. After making the turn off from the East Lake spur, I was taking a break on a boulder when some brush crackling upslope away from me caught my ear.

About 60 yards away, a nice sized black bear was grazing on huckleberries (ripe everywhere, BTW) and making his/her way down in the direction of Whatcom Pass. At first, the bear didn’t notice me but as I fumbled my water bottle and it ping ponged off several rocks, it became aware of me. A friendly salutation was met with indifference and it continued grazing. This would be the only bear I would see the entire trip. After FINALLY getting my first view of the Tapto Lakes basin, I got the rude surprise that my effort wasn’t over. There’s still a fair amount of switchbacks to descend to finally get into the basin. Coming off of the severe rains several days before my visit, parts of the trail were slick and I promptly banana peel slipped onto my ass.

As photography was my primary goal, I knew I wanted views of Challenger from my camp so I set out for the west end of the basin and settled in on a grassy pad located below Lemon Lime Lake (as referenced in this previous NWHikers thread). Sunset my first night was probably the “best” of my three nights, only because there were a few clouds to reflect some of the alpenglow light. The entire rest of my trip would be under cloudless skies.

Overnight, I got up around 3:30am to shoot some stars over Challenger & Whatcom Peak. My three sunrises would be carbon copies- cloudless and not that exciting (but still wonderful to watch). Tuesday was my first full day of two in Tapto Lakes basin and I basically spent the day doing laundry, filtering water, and just lounging around. The true effort to make it up to Tapto from Whatcom Pass eliminated any desired to hike out of the basin until the end of my time in the basin.

Monday and Tuesday nights were both breezy as soon as the sun had set but Tuesday was especially blustery. It was like a freight train coming from the east and, honestly I was concerned when I left my tent that a strong gust might rip it away (I ended up putting a heavy rock inside as I shot some more stars). On Wednesday afternoon, I made the trek up to the ridge of Red Face Mountain. The hike up wasn’t too bad and not particularly sketchy. In fact, the only sketchy part was standing on the ridge looking north towards Indian Mountain and the headwaters of Indian Creek. The cliff drops abruptly so I didn’t linger long.

The next morning, I packed up and began my two day hike out. After Whatcom Pass, I enjoyed the downhill pace of the hike back down to Graybeal. In the middle portion of the trail between Graybeal and Whatcom Pass, the trail crosses through some extensive brushy avalanche slopes. As I tend to do, I clank my poles together to make noise since I’m travelling solo. About 20 feet from the end of the final brushy, rocky section of trail, the unthinkable happened.

As I clanked my poles together, I planted my left foot onto a rock. While intentional, my foot moved and that was unintentional. Like a calving glacier or a building imploding, I began to fall left (downhill) and I couldn’t plant my left pole in time.

“Oh sh!t..”

I hit belly first like Pete Rose sliding into a base, frantically trying to grab vegetation to stop my motion. Before I could grab anything meaningful, a small rock stopped me by saying hello to the side of my head. I was stunned at what had just happened but I was at least stopped. I sat up and felt the side of my temple behind my left eye. Looking at my hand, I saw some blood. I wiped it away and felt again; more blood. Damn.

I floundered in my attempts to climb back up to the trail (mind you I still have a 40lb pack on my back) but eventually did. Ok- I know I’m bleeding but I still had my balance; that’s a good sign, right? Thankfully, literally just around the corner was a small creek with cool water. I dropped my pack and used my bandana to clean the blood away. I reached for my iPhone and used the Facetime setting to snap a selfie to see what I had done to myself. Oh oh. That’s not good. Not BAD, but probably not good either. At this point, I began “cold compression” on the wound area by constantly soaking the bandana in cold water and applying it to the wound areas.

After 20 minutes of this, any bleeding had slowed and I decided I would continue to hike (my balance was still good) down and stop at Graybeal Camp to break out my first aid kit and figure out what to do. I put my sombrero hat on to cover most of the wound areas and after only a mile, I strolled into an empty Graybeal. At the primo campsite along the creek, I broke out my first aid kit and my iPhone yet again to actually see what the hell I needed to do. Another photo reassessment. The wounds weren’t actively bleeding and the swelling that was present wasn’t alarming. It stung and sucked but I still felt relatively normal. I got lucky. I applied some antibiotic and then cobbled together a knuckle & two standard band aids to cover the most serious wounds.

Now I was faced with a new dilemma- should I tell my girlfriend or not? I’ve used the inReach satellite messaging device since it was release for iPhones a couple years ago and this trip was no exception. Throughout the trip, I regularly checked in and apprised her of my whereabouts. I decided that I would text her and tell her about the incident but reassure here that I was ok and would continue on to Copper Creek as I had planned.

During the next 20 minutes, I played satellite 20 questions with a woman whose professional background includes nursing. There’s NO assuring someone with that background, especially when the injury in question is located someplace you can’t really see (“how deep is the wound?”, “what did you hit?”). By now, it was about 12:20pm and I couldn’t to sit around. I needed to get going to Copper Creek.

Once again on the trail in the Brush Creek valley, my hiking pace on level and downhill trail sections was still fairly strong. I kept passing milestones- Brush Creek bridge, cable car, U.S. Cabin. Even as I finally encountered the elevation gain necessary to reach Copper Creek, I still kept a steady pace. I really began to think about the possibility of making the LONG push all the way out to the Hannegan Pass trailhead.

At 3:30pm, I reached Copper Creek. Four hours until sunset- could I hike the 3 miles and 2,000 vertical feet and make Hannegan Pass before dark? If I could, I knew I could suck it up and make the final 4 miles downhill to the trailhead. Away I went. I was in a zone, focused on left foot, right foot. Little further, break. A little further, break. Boundary Camp finally appeared and so did Hannegan Pass. 1 more mile and 700’ of gain.

Just prior to 7pm I pushed up an over the pass and started down the Ruth Creek side. I texted my girlfriend of my status and then hunkered down for the slog ahead. I tried to cover as much trail during the remaining daylight as I could safely and swiftly. At 2 miles from the trailhead, I made my final stop and topped off my water. Darkness now settled in and my headlamp showed the way. I slowed my pace since the trail is pretty rocky and I didn’t need ANOTHER spill.

The last mile would never end. In the dark, the trail I’ve hiked several times looked like nothing familiar. Where’s that avalanche debris you hike through?.. Suddenly, my headlamp reflected off of a car’s reflectors and then the wilderness sign-in box appeared. Oh my god, I just hiked 18.4 miles with a full pack (my new personal best). It was 8:50pm. Relief is dropping your pack into your truck and not having to put it back on.

After changing and a quick bandana bath, I started my drive home. There’s a small pocket of cell coverage where the Hannegan Pass Road meets the Mount Baker Highway so I text’d my girlfriend that I was driving home. At almost midnight on the dot, I was parked in front of her place. Once inside, she had her medical supplies ready and took a look. I was sure she was going to say that we needed to head to the ER for some stitches but she thought it looked good and didn’t need them. Whew. Actually, she was impressed with what I basically improv’d as first aid.

She cleaned out the wound areas, steri-stripped it, and bandaged it up for the night. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a tetanus shot so, at her desire, I got one the next morning. And that ended my first ever trip to Tapto Lakes. Despite a career best day of hiking, I incredibly felt GOOD the next morning. No extreme soreness, no knee pain. I have no idea how this could be.

A few more days removed from the trip, I still feel pretty normal with no ill side effects. My wounds seem to be healing nicely and look better. I was certainly lucky, no doubt about that. I’m not going to overthink my incident because it’s going to happen at some point or another. Mine was a fluke and not the result of stupidity. In the end, it was certainly a trip that I will not soon forget. I have yet to really go through my SLR photos but I think they won’t hold up much against the experiences and emotions of my trip. It was an arduous test and I passed it. That’s good enough for me.

Oregon’s Paradise

Aug 12

Late July to early August is the time that meadows across the Cascade Mountain range come alive with wildflowers. Paradise in Mount Rainier National Park is perhaps the most well known location for wildflowers here in the northwest but it’s by no means the only location. A few years ago, I learned of a meadow on Oregon’s Mount Hood that’s home to an amazing display of beargrass, which is a grass like perennial but actually a member of the Lily family. Beargrass “blooms” follow a cycle so the number of beargrass that do bloom each year will vary. Once every so often, a super bloom will occur resulting in an impressive display and 2009 was such a year in a place named Paradise Park on Mount Hood.

Located in the Mount Hood Wilderness, Paradise Park is a four mile hike north from the famous Timberline Lodge via the Pacific Crest Trail. It’s actually quite an interesting hike in a number of ways. A typical wildflower hike starts low and climbs high but trekking out to Paradise Park starts high, loses 1,100′ of elevation, and then regains 1,000′ to reach the start of the meadows. The other aspect of this hike I found interesting was the variety of ecological zones that the hike travels through. The first mile or two traverses across a corrugated alpine pumice landscape followed by a brief re-entry into high elevation forest. This brings you to the rim of the impressive Zigzag Canyon, which is where the Zigzag River has cut down nearly 1,000 feet down through volcanic deposits. The 4,800′ bottom of the canyon crosses through classic western Cascade forest before reversing the experience on the way up to Paradise Park.

I was ultimately inspired to make my first visit by a hiker’s comment on the Portland Hikers forum (a great resource for hiking in Oregon) which indicated that the wildflowers were at peak condition right now. While there would be no beargrass blooms, I felt a change of pace from the rat race of Mount Rainier’s Paradise was in order (more on that in another blog post). Forecasts pointed to good weather for the most part but always with a “chance” of thunderstorms. My plan was to overnight in Paradise Park one night, hike out the next day, drive around the mountain and do it all over again at another meadow-y setting. Sure enough, I set out under sunny skies with an ever growing cloud above Mount Hood. Temperatures in the upper 70s made the hike a bit toasty, particularly with heavy pack. I’ve tried to pare down the weight of my backpacking set but I think I have a bit more work to do!

Even with 40+ lbs on my back, I found myself an hour later at the rim of the Zigzag Canyon (2.3 miles from my starting point at Timberline). After a break and some photos, an hour later I was crossing the Zigzag River and beginning my climb up to Paradise Park. The mid afternoon sunshine was still cooking so my climb up to Paradise Park took close to another 90 minutes. It seemed like I would never reach Paradise Park but eventually I turned the corner and there it was. Now, before I continue, I feel the need to explain something. Photographers use a lot of adjectives to describe scenes such as amazing, grand and stunning. So much so that they, perhaps, loose their impact.

Despite my numerous outings over the last five years, I will admit that the number of times I’ve been truly moved by the scene in front of me have been few. What’s my definition of “moved”? I’d say it’s the desire to share what you’re experiencing with someone you hold dear. It’s wishing someone was with you at that moment because it’s the only way they can ever truly understand why you do what you do. Rounding the corner as the first meadow of Paradise Park came into view was one of those moments for me (only my second time this year). As picturesque as any meadow I’ve ever seen, I just wanted to drop everything and just stare. The sweat and fatigue of the journey to get here was but it was so, so worth it at this moment.

If I was to get ready for sunset, I needed to get going and set up camp. Not too far after entering Paradise Park is the South Fork of Lost Creek and the first campsites found in Paradise Park. The creek was lined with all sort of wildflowers along with one of the finest campsites I’ve ever seen. As good as it seemed, I decided to keep going, at least until the crossing of the North Fork of Lost Creek. Again, the creek was lined with wildflowers but the campsites were much more exposed. There was still a threat of thunderstorms so the prudent thing to do was to retreat back to the more sheltered campsites along the South Fork. I set up my camp and took a little nap before setting back out to the first meadow for sunset.

Behind the Paradise Park Loop Trail signpost is a way path that meanders up through the meadow towards Mississippi Head and the rest of Mount Hood. The flowers here were thick, in perfect form, and consisted mostly of Lupine, American Bistort, Arnica, and some sporadic Indian Paintbrush. As I’ve grown fond of doing, I brought along my GoPro so that I could also shoot a time lapse series. The only downside of this is that you have to pick a spot and stay there. Sometimes this doesn’t work out to your advantage. At this lower location in the meadow, the focal point are the flowers and Mount Hood; not much else is visible due to the treeline which is literally all around you.

On this night, this didn’t work in my advantage. The large billowing clouds from the afternoon had pretty much disappeared by sunset. Minus the clouds, there wasn’t much left to capture and reflect the warm light of sunset. Behind me, though, the skies were filled with pinks and oranges. I worked my surroundings as best as I could before calling it an evening. Clouds seeped back in the darker it got and I pretty much knew that any star photography wasn’t going to be an option. I was tired enough that I didn’t have a big problem with that.

Waking up at 4:45am the next morning, I hiked back to the same meadow for sunrise serenaded by the cooing of a mourning dove. It was quite evident that I was in for a gray sunrise. Still, there was little wind and the no bugs. True sunrise greeted me with a few moments of light rain. This area was so nice that I had been toying with the idea of extending my stay one extra night. The weather (and myself, frankly) wasn’t looking too good so I kept with the decision to hike out and head home. Before breaking camp, I continued furthered up the path to the upper slopes. I found it interesting that the wildflowers (primarily asters) were actually a little bit past prime and somewhat “burned” out. Lower slopes normally burn out before the upper slopes simply because that’s the way the snowpack melts back during the course of summer.

By the time I had packed up camp and hit the trail, the sun appeared. A bit bittersweet but frankly it didn’t last too long. Most of the uphill hike out was graced by cloudy skies which did keep me a bit cooler. Even with dubious forecasts, I crossed paths with lots of people hiking in towards Paradise Park. After returning home, I found that that Timberline Lodge received 2.5″ of rain during the time I would have still been out there had I extended my stay. One thing I sometimes do after a trip is re-examine my “research” on an area to better understand and merge the on the ground reality I experienced and the textual or other information I had leading up to my visit. I discovered AFTER the fact that there were two waterfalls in the Paradise Park area which I could have photographed. Doh! Even with such a quick introduction to the area, I know I’ll be back. Acres of wildflowers that I didn’t have to share with anyone? Why would I NOT return??! I would highly recommend a visit to Paradise Park!

Lastly, I’d like to give a special hat tip to Oregon photographer Wesley Picotte who generously shared some of his knowledge with me while I was researching my trip. Check out his great work also from the Pacific Northwest. Thanks again, Wesley!

Return to Mount Saint Helens

Jun 17

Mount Saint Helens was the last stop on my recent trip south to Mount Hood and the Columbia River Gorge. Any longtime reader of my blog will know that I have a special reverence for Green Lake in Mount Rainier National Park but Mount Saint Helens is the true reason that I eventually moved to the Pacific Northwest. Back in college, I really became intrigued by the eruption and subsequent recovery of the landscape following the event. I studied geography in college with an emphasis in computer mapping and remote sensing. At that time, no one had done an analysis of the recovery using remote sensing (basically an analysis using satellite imagery) and this really surprised me given the 20 year plus archive of imagery at that time. Anyways, it was this seed that actually encourage my first ever visit to the northwest.

Although I’ve climbed the mountain from the south side several times since moving up here in 1999, my last visit to the blast area was in 1997 or 1998. I was definitely overdue for a return visit! What I decided to do was head to Johnston Ridge for sunset, hang out overnight for some star photography and then shoot sunrise before finally heading home. I still had an entire day to get to Johnston Ridge so I made another trip up the Lewis River drainage to explore a little more. The initial weather was pretty good for stream and waterfall photography with mostly cloudy skies and nice, even light. Far too quickly, however, it changed to mostly and completely sunny skies. On my way up the valley, I stopped off near the Ape Caves and visited the Trail of Two Forests interpretive trail. I almost visited it last year while up in this area but a busload of school kids at the site kept me going. On this day, I had the area to myself.

The trail is a small, 1/4 mile boardwalk trail with several interpretive signs pointing out several volcanic features from a previous lava flow event such as lava tubes, log dams, and tree molds where the base of trees used to be (before being burned by the lava). It was a nice spot to explore and I did manage to come away with this shot of one of the lava tube openings. After completing the trail, I headed further up the Lewis valley making several stops to poke around. The forest floors here are rich with vanilla leaf and I’m a sucker for trying to capture a representative scene of this. Today was no exception…

The bright sun made it painfully obvious that I wouldn’t be photographing much else of what I had hoped to. I turned around and began my drive back to I-5 to make my way to Johnston Ridge. Just before you reach the Volcanic Monument, you pass Weyerhaeuser’s Forest Learning Center perched atop a cliff overlooking the Toutle River valley with the mountain in the distance. It’s free and does have some nice views so it’s worth a stop at least once. Keep in mind they are a commercial logging company so the center is a bit of a “hooray for us” PR piece where they strongly tout their reforestation efforts. While they are impressive, monolithic stands of Noble Firs doesn’t necessary qualify as “recovery” from an ecosystem perspective and takes on a somewhat Children of the Corn appearance (in other words, eerie).

As I approached Coldwater Lake, I was greeted by an intersection with my travel direction blocked by a manned and closed gate. I did not remember this from my last visit so I pulled over to go talk with the Forest Service employee. After setting me straight with directions, I was asking him about my intended plans for the evening. I was informed that, although they do not close a nightly gate, the Johnston Ridge area is closed to the public from 9pm to 7am. So much for my night and sunrise plans! Sunset on this evening was literally minutes before 9pm and that pretty much restricted my options for sunset. From the Visitor Center, I walked west and found one spot with some wildflowers in the foreground. I had some time to work with so I headed east from to see what other options there may be. I didn’t want to go too far east because parts of the ridge would begin to block some parts of the Plains of Abraham. I eventually found another spot with some Indian Paintbrush in bloom and set up my camera as well as my GoPro for a timelapse.

I started my timelapse and sat down to watch sunset. Things were looking good- stringy, wispy clouds were scattered across the sky. About a half hour before sunset, those wispy clouds had been pushed further east and I wasn’t left with much. The light on Mount Saint Helens just smoothly changed from white to yellow to orange to pink without much fanfare. The time of sunset arrived and I technically had just minutes to be back at my truck and leave. I forced myself to stop my timelapse and quickly packed up my gear for the hurry hike back to the parking lot. There was a slight rebound in the light and it killed me that I couldn’t really stop and photograph it (or capture it with my timelapse). At one point on my way back, I had a view down at the parking lot and my truck was the only car in a lot that held hundreds of cars. Today, I would be the last person to leave Johnston Ridge. Before I did, however, I enjoyed the silence a little bit longer. I expected to see a Forest Service employee sweeping the area clear but that didn’t happen. I really wanted to stay but…I left.

But where to go for my night and sunrise plans? Weighing my options, I made my way back to the Castle Lake Viewpoint. I arrived to an empty parking lot (and it would stay empty overnight and through sunrise). Now it was a matter of waiting for it to get dark and for the stars to come out. At 10:30-11pm, it was finally dark enough to start experimenting. Ideally, I was looking to take a photo with the Milky Way arching above the mountain but that looked to be hours away. Several sequences in, I attracted a visitor. Although I never saw it, the yelp from a (presumed) coyote kept sounding off in the darkness off to my right. At one point, the yelps suddenly were off to my left. All right, I admit- this was a bit freaky. About a half hour after my visitor made its vocal appearance, high clouds really started to roll in from the west. Soon enough, I lost any chance to take more star shots. I took that as my cue and hunkered down in my truck for a cat nap.

To my surprise, I got about 4 hours of sleep and woke up at about 3:30am to a crescent moon which had risen. I could see my surroundings better and could also see that those high clouds were still around. To the east, however, was a nice sized clear window. I really was hoping that the sunlight would flood through and reflect off of the cloud ceiling. For ONCE I was ready and in position! Once again, I started my GoPro and waited for the light show. And waited. And waited some more. Still waiting. Oh- it tried! I could see a faint show of color immediately near the horizon but not the explosion I was so eagerly awaiting. I held out hope but no dice. Once it officially was sunrise, I waited just a little longer to make sure I was shut out. I was- but there was a subtle surge of orange color. I set back up and focused on the mountain where the color was a contrast to some brooding clouds behind and to the east of the mountain.

So now it was finally time to head home. Hold on- why did that car stop? As I scanned the slopes below where the car stopped, I finally saw what they were looking at: a herd of elk heading down to the Toutle River valley. Comically, I run and get my camera & telephoto lens and set up again. My telephoto lens at 300mm was still a bit too far but you work with what you have. I was fortunate enough to capture a sequence of some playful sparring between a couple of young elk. Ok, now I’m REALLY leaving! A few hours later I was back in the Puget Sound and back on the grid. My phone was catching up with all its notifications and one of them was a message from a friend from the previous night. The message I didn’t get was an alert to look for the auroras. So- while I was enjoyed cloudy skies, the auroras were out and being photographed by people as far south as Crater Lake in Oregon. Perfect. My luck sometimes….

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Steve Cole Photography

Pacific Northwest Landscape / Nature Photography

Sunset

The Umpqua and the Chainsaw

If you’re interested in viewing my web map project of timber sales within the Umpqua basin, you can view that map here.

Goodbye 2014

Reunion

Ssssupermoon

Florida Skies

BC on Ice

Huntoon Point

Tapto Lakes

Oregon’s Paradise

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