Category Archives: Photography

Going to the East Side, ah, 395, you know, the East side of the Sierras

US Highway 395 runs from the Canadian border, just north of Spokane, through Reno, into the LA Basin, where it gets lost in the freeway maze around San Bernardino. A big chunk of it, about 300 miles worth, running through the high desert along the eastern flank of the Sierras, is one of the most spectacular drives in the world. I drove across California to 395, a week or so ago, to get a couple of pictures of the Sierra monolith at sunrise. It is the first time, in over ten years, that I’ve gone somewhere to just take photographs. I had forgotten how much fun it was.

It is about a five-hour drive from our house to 395 via Tioga Pass, normally about half of the distance and one-third of the time is on freeways but I told the Hyundai’s trusty GPS – Miss Song? – to minimize freeways so it took me about eight hours, going over the Coast Range at Patterson Pass and through the Central Valley on back roads. I stopped at every place along the way that I’ve always said I would stop (but, always, at some other time). 

That had the added bonus of getting me to Siesta Lake just as the light was getting good. By the time I got to the Olmsted Point scenic turnout, the light was good with clouds hanging on the face of Cloud’s Rest. Olmsted Point is at 8300 and it was already cool but I hoped the sky would get better in the sunset so I decided to join the other photographers who were standing around waiting. The sky did get a little better but it got much colder and I kept getting into the car to warm up. 

Leaving Olmsted point after sunset, I drove east through Tuolumne Meadows in the failing light and then down to Eureka Vally in the dark. 

Eureka Valley is 37.9 miles east of Highway 395, towards Death Valley, on the Big Pine-Death Valley Road and I figured it would be a good place to throw down my bag and spend the night. It was. At about 3000 feet, Eureka Valley was a balmy 62° and I didn’t even have to zip up my bag. Still, it was the first time I’ve slept on the ground in about two years and it was not as easy as I had expected. Part of it was that my Therm-a-Rest had a slow leak and went flat during the night but the bigger problem was that I had driven into Eureka Valley, picked a place to sleep, and put my bag down, in the dark and I always find that a little disquieting. That was made up for, however by the incredible night sky. I was about as far from a large light source as I could get, a bizilon stars ran from horizon to horizon, and the milky way was bright enough to walk around by. I woke up about 5:17, eight minutes before my alarm and loaded the car. I stopped just as the road left the valley, turning from gravel to pavement – to use the word pavement in a very generous sense – and took a picture of the horizon as it started to get light. Forty-five minutes later, driving down into the Owens Valley, the Sierras were glowing in the morning sun.  

After sunrise, my plan was to drive into Bishop and get an old-fashioned breakfast with a couple of eggs over easy, bacon, and hash browns but the light was so fantastic that I decided to drive up to  Lake Sabrina at over 9,000 feet. The clouds that were so beguiling looking across the Owens Valley were now clouds cutting off the sunlight at Lake Sabrina where it was 34°. Every once in a while, the light would break through, lighting up the Aspens but 34° is cold and I got tired of waiting for the light to improve, I got back in the car, turned the heat up high, and drove a mile or so to North Lake where the light was a little better and the shores, incongruously, were full of Chinese women photographers (not shown).   

I ended the morning at South Lake which was beautiful but the sweet light was gone so I called it a day and headed home.

We went to Yosemite for a long weekend and it snowed

and snowed and, then, Saturday night, the skies cleared and it stopped (photo by Michele). With perfect timing, Richard Taylor had rented a cabin in Yosemite and invited Michele and me, along with Marianne, Courtney, and Gina, to spend a long weekend. On Sunday, there was not a cloud in the sky and we drove to the Valley. Thank you, Richard, you are truly a mensch.  

First Supermoon of the month

For reasons unknown to me, I have not been able to upload any pictures since the Supermoon. Last month, we watched the Moonrise from Twin Peaks but we went to Corona Heights, lower and north of Twin Peaks. Because we were lower, I thought the moon would come up slightly later but, because it was the evening of New Year’s Day the San Francisco skyline was not as lite up. The crowd, however, was local.

A thought on getting a new camera

Yosemite-00079I got a new camera the other day and I am having a harder time, than I expected, adjusting to it; physically, mentally, and, most surprisingly, emotionally. Physically, the camera is much smaller than my antique Canon 5D – which is why I bought it in the first place- and there is not as much real estate on which to put dials so it takes two steps to get to many things I want, like exposure compensation, and my fingers don’t fall on the dials the way I would like. The zoom ring is manual on both cameras but they zoom by rotating the lens in opposite directions. I know that but I don’t remember it when I am looking through the viewfinder. But all of that fades in comparison to the emotional adjustment. Carrying a full-frame SLR around, especially with a tripod, puts one in the Serious Photographer League. Now there are no more head nods from other Serious Photographers and we pass on the trail in Yosemite. That was unexpected and bothers me more than I liked to admit.

The upside is that it is a way more capable tool.

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Eternal Yosemite

Yosemite-6I went to Yosemite Valley, for the day, a couple of days ago. I don’t want to say that I was disappointed, because I wasn’t, it was a lovely, warm spring day and the Valley was Yosemite Valley at its best; majestic, serene, lots of water, and the dogwoods were blooming. It just wasn’t surprising. I’ve been reading alot of geology lately, about the Farallon Plate diving – or, subducting if you prefer – under the North American Plate and pushing mountains up all the way to the Rockies, and I’ve started to visualizing the change taking place in an relatable time. But, in real life, the change is taking place so slowly that we can’t see it – although we do feel it occasionally – and this Yosemite is the same Yosemite I first saw as a child in 1948, even if I don’t remember much of it.

About twenty years later, I first saw El Capitan – El Cap – as a sentient being and it hasn’t moved one inch from my first picture. And the best places to photograph El Cap haven’t changed either, the meadow where you can watch the climbers, looking down valley from another meadow across the river, the aptly named El Capitan View turnout, or the Tunnel View turn out. The pictures below, right and bottom, were taken on a trip to The Valley with Michele’s cousin, Marion Kaplan, during the Rim Fire when the sky was full of smoke and the valley somber, and the upper left on a drive through The Valley, late in the day, shuttling a car from the west side to the east side of the Sierras. The sky has changed but the walls have not. When I raise my camera to take a picture, I am struck by how many times I have taken the same pictures, most of them now sitting in Kodak Carousels in storage somewhere. That is not to say that, today, now, The Valley isn’t still screaming Take my picture!; it is. It still is one of the most stunning places I have ever been, even when it was smoked in, looking and feeling like Mordor. But it does raise the question, What is the point of taking pictures of Yosemite?   20130911-IMG_2320-EditI’ve sort of come to the conclusion that the only reasonable answer is To get a Selfie. Really, think about it. There are already hundreds of millions of pictures of Yosemite and the world probably does not need another one, but maybe, just maybe, the world needs a picture of us, either indirectly by showing our own interpretation of a place, or directly with a portrait. Either way, the picture is witness to our visit to The Valley, something to bring to show and tell.   IMG_6744-Edit-2This day, when I got to Yosemite, they told me that Glacier Point had just opened for the season and, since that is one of my favorite view spots, I went there first. I was amazed at the volume of water in Merced and Nevada Falls… Puma-2

and I could almost hear Yosemite Falls across the valley, it was just like old times. YosemiteIt was 59° at Glacier Point – which is amazingly warm in the sun at 7200+ feet – there was still snow on the ground, and, more importantly, the view has not changed in the last sixty years, so I went back down into warmth of the The Valley. One picture that I did want to repeat is of the boardwalk across the road from the Yosemite Valley Chapel and across the valley from Yosemite Falls. As an aside, now that I am walking around Yosemite, I remember two things that have changed during my memory. One is that there used to be a great view of the church, with Half Dome in the background, from the meadow next to the church,  now trees – which I understand the Park Service planted – have grown up to block the view. The other is that Mirror Lake is now a meadow most of the time. End aside. Once I got to the boardwalk, the natural thing seemed to just walk across The Valley to Yosemite Falls, to hear its powerful roar and feel the mist. To simply let The Yosemite Valley of the Merced entrance me.  IMG_6745-EditIMG_6763-EditIMG_6778-EditYosemite