Return to the Mountains

Spring has come and gone down here in the lowlands, and now it’s time for it to make it up to the High Sierra! This past week I had to be in Mammoth for research related activities (learning how to set up 3D high speed video systems to track hummingbirds). Conveniently, this lined up with two images I very much wanted to capture. On my way up I spent a night in the Bristlecone National Forest, taking in the sunset and sunrise from 11,300 feet. This place is simply incredible – a vast open and desolate landscape separating Nevada from the Owen’s Valley. To the East you see nothing.. just flatness, to the East, the 12,000+ foot peaks of the snow covered Sierra loom over the desert valley below. On my drive up I got my first flat in my car, but fortunately half an hour later I was back on track, and managed to catch the sunset at a tree I had scouted out two years ago. It was good to be back.

“Guardian Angel” ~ Bristlecone National Forest, CA
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 16-35mm mkII, tripod
Exposure: iso 100, f/16, 1/8th sec
Processing: This was deceptively simple – no need for multiple exposures or grad filters, despite shooting into the sunset. Using ACR’s fill light, and some curves layers with selective color masks on the blue sky to darken those areas I was able to control all the light.

It seems that nearly every image I have seen from here always focuses on the Bristlecones themselves, and with good reason – they are really incredible! There’s a personality about them that is truly expressive, and can be down right spooky. Here’s an old favorite from my 2007 trip that I recently reprocessed, I hope you don’t get any nightmares!

“Wretched” ~ Bristlecone National Forest, CA
The Tech: Canon 5D, 50mm f/1.8, handheld
Exposure: iso 100, f/16, 1/400th

Anyways, on that 2007 trip I found a viewpoint that would let me capture the true essence of this desolate place littered with tortured and dying trees: a sort of Pompeii of trees. Fortunately for them, they’ve at least got an incredible view, that of the Sierra Nevada. As the sun rose, the twisted trees turned blood red, further accentuating feeling of tortured death. To be fair, there are still some living trees up here, but I did my best to pick a spot where there’s hardly any (count ‘em: 4).

“The Graveyard” ~ Bristlecone National Forest, CA
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 500mm f/4, tripod + sidekick
Exposure: iso 100, f/18, 0.8 sec
Notes: This was shot as a panorama of 6 vertical images, and stitched using PTGui. You’ll want to view this one big! (click on it). The detail in this is stunning, as you can see the individual stones on the ground of that slope, probably about half a mile away! Of course for the complete effect you’ll have to clear out some space over your sofa and order a 20×40in print

A subtle point regarding this image is that I took it on the sunrise following the summer solstice – that means the sun was at it’s most northerly point in the sky that it will ever reach. This was important because most of the trees on that slope are actually close to the north face, so to catch them with the prime light this was the perfect time. It was also early enough in the year to catch the Sierras with plenty of snow (thanks to a good snow year!). The soft delicate pink light only lasted a few minutes – after that the sun had risen enough that it was already scorching this high desert. Time to head to the hummingbirds! After two days of ‘work’, I headed off for my next adventure, this time with friend and photographer Steve Sieren. I’ve been anticipating this trip for almost a year now – I wanted to catch the most dramatic peaks of the High Sierra, reflected in a still half frozen lake. The destination? Minaret Lake. With a stunning view of Clyde and the other Peaks of the Minarets this place looks like it’s right out of a Lord of the Rings fairytale. I had done my research, and this seemed like the ideal time to go, though when I picked up the permits the ranger said everything up there would be covered in snow still.. fortunately, I did not believe her. After an 8 mile hike Steve and I arrived at the perfectly half frozen Minaret Lake. This is a rare sight for a lake like this, and in its best state only lasts a week or so at most. That evening raging storm clouds formed over Mammoth, while we were still enjoying clear blue skies. There were even some special mammatus clouds that lit up like fire. There weren’t any great compositions looking that way, but you might recall I had a similar experience in Death Valley early this year. Right at sunset, however, the clouds approached our lake, and we were treated to an incredible display of oranges, pinks and reds. Meanwhile the few day old crescent moon was slowly descending in the sky. It wasn’t, however, until about 30 minutes after sunset that for me the real magic happened. Clouds in the Sierra are rare (at least, at sunset/sunrise!); clouds, lake ice, and uncannily positioned crescent moons are a thing of dreams. In this case, my dream was manifested in reality, I hope it speaks to you as it does to me.

“Kiss the Moon” ~ Minaret Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness, CA
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 16-35mm mkII, tripod, 2-stop hard GND
Exposure: iso 800, f/14, 6 sec
Processing: I took an additional exposure 2 stops longer to bring in better detail to the mountains without an increase in noise.
Notes: View this one big! (click on it, and turn out the lights for maximum experience)

That night the temperatures dropped under freezing, aligning billions of little water molecules into delicate icy structures, eagerly awaiting to be discovered the following morning. The clouds had completely disappeared, and as the sun cast it’s warm orange glow on the Minarets I decided focus on the icy abstracts at my feet. The snow had hardened quite a bit overnight as well; fortunately I had my crampons to let me get to the edge of the ice safely. What you see here is a section of frozen, thawed, and refrozen ice, catching bubbles and forming ice crystals that jutted out of the smooth surface. From just the right angle, these crystals caught the dawn glow of the Minarets, creating a truly surreal abstract.

“Ice Flambé” ~ Minaret Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness, CA
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 70-200mm f/4, tripod
Exposure: iso 200, f/16, 1/8th
Processing: I took 5 exposures at different focus settings, and blended the exposures using Helicon Focus for maximum depth of field.
Notes: Definitely need to see this one big! (click on it)

That day I spent scouting around the lake for possible sunset and sunrise locations, and of course just enjoying the incredible mountain scenery. It was a truly refreshing place to be, frozen lakes, peaks that probably are a home to Dragons, and best of all, nearly completely devoid of people! I climbed up to Cecil Lake, off trail and above Minaret Lake to find it nearly completely frozen. The bowl the lake is in was covered in snow, and the 45 degree slopes were a bit much for me and my ice axe without worrying about going for a chilly swim. I’m sure I’ll be back, probably sooner rather than later! While the lake was still experiencing half winter, in the thawed out meadows around the lake spring has sprung. One of the most photogenic plants in the area are Corn Lilies, which when you catch them before the sun and insects wreak havoc on the fresh green textures, are pure photographic delight. The mosquitoes detracted a bit from the Zen like garden experience, but you probably aren’t being sucked dry of blood right now, so it’ll be a more pleasant experience for you!

“Corn Lilies” ~ Minaret Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness, CA
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 16-35mm mkII, polarizer, tripod
Exposure: iso 100, f/16, 0.5 sec

That evening faint clouds appeared and turned a soft pink, however, I wasn’t quite satisfied with where they appeared or the quality of light they produced. The following sunrise I returned to a spot I found the previous day, and about 15 minutes before sunrise (~5:15am) there must have been some incredible stuff happening out in the Eastern skies, because the Minarets turned a soft reddish magenta.

“Minaret Morning” ~ Minaret Lake, Ansel Adams Wilderness, CA
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 16-35mm mkII, tripod, 3-stop soft GND
Exposure: iso 400, f/14, 10 sec

I hope you enjoyed this taste of the mountains, and I hope to be able to share some more with you from future trips this summer!

Strijklicht

It’s been a while since my last posting.. I also haven’t had as much time for adventuring. I recently returned from a trip to the motherland – Nederland. Every year, or two years or so, I make the pilgrimage back to see the family, make grandmothers happy, etc. For those of you who weren’t aware or hadn’t guessed, I am 100% Dutch. We believe that there’s a distant relationship to the famous Dutch painter Peter Brueghel (the differences in spelling are consistent with changes in the language). Anyways, while most of my time was spent visiting relatives, racing through the countryside on trains, or eating Dutch delicacies like raw Herring, vlaamse friet (real fries, cooked with horse fat), and poffertjes (bite size pancake like things).. I did manage to sneak outside a few times. Now, the dutch landscape is not by any means dramatic or awe inspiring by most countries’ standards, but that didn’t stop me from finding some beautiful spots.

This first image is from the Schoorlse Duinen, which is near Bergen aan Zee. Translated that literally means “Mountains by the Sea”. So yes, the image below showcases the majestic and awe inspiring high mountain peaks of the Netherlands. Technically they are dunes, covered in vegetation of course. Photographing in the golden hour in a place like the Netherlands, which is at a much higher latitude than, say, Southern California, has it’s ups and downs. Sleep must be sacrificed – sunset is at 10:30pm and sunrise is at 5am or so, but the ‘golden hour’ lasts a lot longer than it does down here in California. I can only imagine what pain the poor Norwegians go through if they want to see sunset and sunrise on consecutive days.. Well, I set my alarm for 4am, saw that the clouds looked pretty promising, and headed out into the dunes. Generally it’s advisable to stay on the hard path when you’re biking.. apparently I made a wrong choice somewhere and ended up on a path that dwindled down to a sandy foot track. After a lot of exertion from pushing the bike through the loose sand, I found the path back (I didn’t want to turn around at this point!). As the sun rose and turned the thunder clouds pink I started searching for something.. anything! These tufts of grass on the top of a small hill caught my eye, and I got there just in time for the breaking sunlight.

“Strijklicht” ~ Schoorlse Duinen, the Netherlands
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 16-35mm mkII @ 27mm, tripod, 2-stop hard GND
Exposure: iso 100, f/16, 1/5th sec
Notes: It was constantly a little breezy, and having studied a number of moving grass photos, I came to the realization that for a scene like this, just enough motion to blur the blades was ideal. An overly long exposure renders the grasses as fluffy blurs that don’t have the same beautiful brush like impact that the grasses do in person. I found 1/5th sec was just right (I had a Singh-Ray Vari ND on hand in case I needed a longer exposure. Title explained lower down.

My next opportunity to escape was in Oisterwijk, my grandma’s town and my father’s hometown. My dad and I went for a bike ride through his childhood playground – the Oisterwijkse Vennen. The most promising spot I found was actually on the edge of the Kampina Hei, a large prairie like space. I spotted a stand of birches that I knew would catch some special light in the late evening.. so after dinner we returned to this scene. It’s rare to get real side light in a forest, since when the sun is that low there’s usually way too many trees in the way to let the light through. Since this relatively sparse grove was at the edge of a large flat open space it got soaked in golden light.

” ‘t Berkenbos (v)” ~ Kampina Hei, the Netherlands
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 24-105mm @ 35mm, tripod, polarizer
Exposure: iso 100, f/16, 0.8 sec
Processing: I had to double process the raw file to control the shadows and highlights in this one. Using the select color range tool and some gaussian blur it’s pretty easy to make the appropriate mask.

” ‘t Berkenbos (h)” ~ Kampina Hei, the Netherlands
The Tech: Canon 5D2, 24-105mm @ 55mm, tripod, polarizer
Exposure: iso 100, f/16, 0.6 sec
Processing: I had to double process the raw file to control the shadows and highlights in this one. Using the select color range tool and some gaussian blur it’s pretty easy to make the appropriate mask.

Normally I don’t like to have multiple copies of almost exactly the same scene, but I simply can’t choose between these two. I like the verticality and open feeling of the first, and the graphic abstract nature of the second. So, I’ll present both and you can take your pick, or not

Now, most of you probably still have no idea what the title, strijklicht means. The Dutch are much more advanced when it comes to terms for light, as the single word “strijklicht” means “warm, low-angled soft light” – ie. the light every photographer loves. I don’t know if it’s the digital revolution or what, but for some reason I see very few images these days that actually take advantage of this kind of light – it seems like it’s all about the pink and red sunset colors and completely diffuse lighting for forests and waterfalls. Granted, that kind of light is much easier to exposure for and process. A little bit of direct light, however, adds an incredible dimension of depth and life to an image. If you look at many of the famous old large format shooters, they used a lot more direct light than what I see being done digitally, while we have a distinct advantage in dynamic range over velvia now! So, I’ve decided that while it can be harder to find, more difficult to expose for, and sometimes less dramatically colorful than the pink colors, I’m going to make a concerted effort to continue looking for opportunities to photograph in this kind of light. As you hopefully saw in these images, it can turn rather ordinary and bland subjects into marvelous sights. It’s like putting a delicious jelly on a plain old piece of bread.