close encounters of the bison kind

As you drive back Antelope Flats Road in Grand Teton National Park you pass a warning sign alongside the road. The sign has the silhouette of a buffalo on it and warns you not to approach wildlife. Upon entering the park, you also receive the flyer you see to the left, warning you not to approach buffalo. But what happens when the buffalo approach you? Both of the mornings I spent at Mormon Row, photographing the Moulton barns, I had close encounters of the bison kind.

Morning #1: I arrived at the John Moulton Homestead to shoot the barn there at sunrise. There were four guys there already, all friends who had arrived together. After I set up tripod & camera, we chatted while waiting for the sun to break the horizon at our backs and illuminate the barn with that sweet first light of morning. As we talked, we watched a big bull buffalo drift slowly over from the direction of Antelope Flats Road, then mosey along in front of the pink house, then start to angle over toward us. Hmmm. It didn’t escape our notice that all that was between us & him was the piddling little irrigation ditch. Thankfully, just as we started to get fidgety & discuss possible avenues of retreat, the bull stopped in a little clump of trees just to the left of the barn. And there he stayed, eyeballing us, until we had finished shooting and took the long way around back to our cars.

Morning #2: I was back on Mormon Row, this time at the southern barn (Thomas A. Moulton Homestead) to photograph at sunrise. This time I was the first to arrive. As I scouted camera angles, I noticed a small herd of buffalo, about a dozen animals, a quarter of a mile down the meadow to the left of the barn. It was about fifteen minutes before anyone else showed up—a lady & a guy from a photo workshop, and then a college-age girl from Lancaster, PA (a fellow Pennsylvanian!). I had set up by the boards crossing the irrigation ditch up in the corner of the field by the road, and the photo workshop folks set up a little ways over to my right. The girl from Lancaster & I chatted about Pennsylvania stuff, and we all waited for first light to hit the barn.

Meanwhile—yes, you guessed it—the herd of buffalo was slowly but surely moving up the field toward us. Closer. Closer. Hmmm. The photo workshop lady quickly packed up her equipment and got in their car. The guy looked like he wanted to duck back to the car also, but was watching to see what the Lancaster girl & I would do. What did we do? Brilliantly, we huddled behind two trees, away from the herd, who had now stopped twenty-five feet away and were just standing there looking at us. There was one bull with them who was HUGE. Maybe the same fellow from the morning before. Maybe he enjoys spending his mornings terrorizing photographers. Anyway, when you’re that close to a herd of bison with just a tree in between you & them, you’re suddenly, uneasily, fearfully aware of how large & pointy their horns are. It was all I could think about. “Dang, those horns look sharp!” must’ve run through my mind a thousand times.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably just a few minutes, the herd started to drift back down the field away from us. They made up for scaring us half to death by crossing over in front of the barn and providing us with some cool shots. The big bull was the last to cross over the ditch and then amble in front of the barn.

So those were my two mornings on Mormon Row photographing the Moulton barns. Let me tell you, starting your day off with close encounters of the bison kind will wake you up better than any cup of Starbucks coffee!

Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~ Rich

why i like the doing of it myself

If my vacation photos are the reason I’m going on vacation, what exactly do I gain by heading for (what I’m reasonably certain are) two of the most photographed national parks in the country? From Ansel Adams’ famous Snake River shot in 1942 to some anonymous tourist’s pic of Old Faithful taken last week, Grand Teton and Yellowstone have been photographed ad nauseam. Why waste my time beating a dead horse? Why not just go sit on a beach for a week instead?

Okay, so even if I went to the beach for a week, I’d still be snapping photos every chance I had, so what’s wrong with me?

I think I just like the doing of it myself. When I go somewhere, whether it’s Boulder Creek or the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, it’s not to imitate the photographs of others, but to fully embrace my own personal experience of the place. I go to accept nature’s invitation to draw away and, outside under the open sky, look beyond the boundaries of my own existence.

Photography, for me, is a creative contact with nature. It’s the passionate pursuit of this contact that calls me forward, always forward, to the next photograph. Hidden in each photograph is a new experience. And each new experience gives me a chance to celebrate the gift of being alive.

I must admit, there’s a certain restlessness in this pursuit of the next photograph, the next new experience. I think that’s because deep within each of us there’s a desire to celebrate the gift of life, and we’re always searching for some endeavor that will allow us to do that with every part of our true self. For some, that may be needlepoint or skydiving or gardening or rock climbing. But for me, it’s being outside with a camera.

So why am I heading for (what I’m reasonably certain are) two of the most photographed national parks in the country? Because it’s not just about the photographs I’ll bring back; it’s also about the experience those photographs will represent. That’s why I can never be content just looking at someone else’s pictures of a place. No, I like the doing of it myself.

bear lake to trail ridge road

I’d set the alarm for 3:45am, but I woke up about fifteen minutes before that, so I decided to just go ahead and roll out of bed. A bite of breakfast, wash my face, check I have all my gear, and I’m out the door a few minutes before 4.

No traffic to speak of on US-36 W (Boulder Turnpike), and very quickly I was rolling through Boulder. Twelve stoplights. A couple of times, I’ve zipped right through, no red lights. This morning I hit one. Still, in no time at all, I was blowing out the north end of town, heading for Lyons.

Heading north out of Boulder, I noticed the sky was beginning to lighten just a bit over in the direction of Longmont (home of PBR rider, Kody Lostroh). In short order, I arrived at the little burg of Lyons and, remembering they’re serious about their 25 mph speed limit, I geared down, even though it was 4:30am and not a creature was stirring.

Exiting Lyons, I felt an irrepressible smile begin to creep onto my face. There are very few things in life more fun than zipping up the winding road from Lyons to Estes Park in a Mini when there’s no one else out & about. I just always pray I don’t come cooking around a corner and find a mule deer standing in the road.

No deer (or elk) apparently want to be a hood ornament on this particular morning and I passed through the Beaver Meadows Entrance Station of Rocky Mountain National Park at exactly 5am. My plan was to be at Bear Lake for sunrise and I was right on schedule.

Up at the end of Bear Lake Road, I found four or five other vehicles in the parking lot, but to my surprise I had the lake all to myself. Especially on summer weekends, there are always a few other early bird photographers scattered around the shoreline, but not this morning. I found some rocks on the north shore of the lake to use as foreground & set up a composition that included Longs Peak over across the way. Still no one else around. Cool. There’s no breathtaking alpenglow accompanying the sun’s climb over the horizon, no pastel colored clouds heralding the dawn of this new day… but I have Bear Lake all to myself and suddenly this is no ordinary sunrise, it’s a private performance God is putting on just for me. Thanks, God.

When I planned my trip to the park, I had toyed with the idea of hiking up to Bierstadt Lake from Bear Lake, but after spending about forty minutes photographing at Bear Lake, I decided to ditch the hike and instead go back to the car & head over to Trail Ridge Road and see what was what.

On my way back down Bear Lake Road, I stopped at Moraine Park. Moraine Park is the large, wide-open meadow along the Big Thompson River & Cub Creek. It’s kind of confusing to call it a “park” since it’s in RMNP, but apparently it was a late addition to RMNP and retained its name. So it’s a park within The Park. While wandering around Moraine, I met a nice guy (even though he was shooting with a Nikon) from Indiana. He pulled up a shot on his LCD of a big bull elk he’d photographed the evening before as it was crossing the Big Thompson. It was a great shot, with the snow-capped mountains in the background. I couldn’t help but think, “Man! I’ve been up here two dozen times and never got a shot like that & this guy is here one day and hits the jackpot. Grrr.” Let it go, Rich. Let it go.

After shooting some trees in Moraine (I like trees), I headed for Trail Ridge Road. If you’ve never been up Trail Ridge Road, it’s incredible. It’s the highest continuous paved road in the U.S. (12,183 ft). Trail Ridge traverses RMNP from east to west, from Estes Park to Grand Lake, crossing the Continental Divide at Milner Pass. It’ll take you up above treeline and into the starkly beautiful alpine tundra where it’s like you’ve entered a whole other world. The mountain views all along the road are spectacular. When you visit Rocky Mountain National Park, you must drive up Trail Ridge Road. (Note: The road is closed each year from about mid-October to Memorial Day weekend.) Stop at all the overlooks. Hike up Heart Attack Hill above the Alpine Visitor Center at Fall River Pass. Check out the Tundra World Nature Trail above the Rock Cut Parking Area. Take it all in and you’ll be treated to views you’ll never forget.

Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich

anne u. white trail

My Best Boulder Region Hiking Trails (by Bette Erickson) book says, “Access to the short and easy Anne Underwood White Trail in Fourmile Canyon Creek Park is easy to miss because of its tucked-away location.” Very true. Finding the trailhead is more difficult than the hike.

The Anne U. White Trail is located in the Front Range foothills northwest of Boulder. To get to it, take Broadway north to Lee Hill Road. Take a left and in just a tick over a mile, watch for Wagonwheel Gap Road on your left. (If you go to where the road Y’s with Old Stage Road, you’ve gone too far. This is what I did.) Once you are on Wagonwheel Gap Rd, go exactly one mile and watch for a dirt road on your left. This is the road back to the trailhead, but it isn’t marked as such in any way, shape, or form. The short dirt road dead-ends at the trailhead. There are only three parking spaces at the trailhead, and there are NO PARKING signs every ten feet along the dirt road, so you’ll either have to get there early, be lucky, or park out on Wagonwheel Gap Rd.

The trailhead lies at 6,040 feet and the highest point on the trail is 6,600 feet, so there’s minimal elevation gain. The trail twists and turns, following Fourmile Canyon Creek for 1.5 miles before dead-ending at private property. Out and back, you supposedly cross the creek a grand total of twenty-two times, but what with stopping often to take photos, I lost count. Don’t worry about wearing your waterproof boots, though, as there are stepping stones at each crossing.

Although there are no grand vistas to behold along the Anne U. White Trail (since you stay down in the canyon, following the creek), this is a surprisingly lush, forested area and you’ll be treated to much more green than you’ll find on most trails around Boulder. It actually reminded me of hiking back home in Pennsylvania.

There are many small cascades & waterfalls along the trail. Near the end of the trail, there’s a lovely little set of falls and a large pool that is kind of a zen spot & a nice photo op. It’s the spot pictured below.

All in all, this is a pleasant trail and is a great, short hike if you have a family, or aren’t up to tackling trails with more dramatic elevation gain, or are just looking for something off-the-beaten-path but still close to Boulder.

Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich

ouzel falls hike

date of activity: May 17, 2009

Ouzel Falls is located in the southeastern part of Rocky Mountain National Park. This beautiful region of the park is known as Wild Basin. This section of RMNP sees far fewer visitors than the more popular parts of the park accessed by the two main entrances at Estes Park and Grand Lake. I imagine this has a lot to do with two things: (1) To get to the Wild Basin Trailhead you have to drive a couple of miles back a one lane dirt road, and (2) Going to Wild Basin means you’re going to have to get out of your car & hike somewhere, rather than just tooling around in your car gawking at the scenery and elk.

The Wild Basin Trailhead lies at 8,500 feet and is 12.5 miles south of Estes Park on CO 7 (Peak to Peak Highway). After you go through the entrance station, you’ll pass Copeland Lake on your right. I’d heard that you can get some nice shots of Copeland Mountain reflected in the lake, but when I was there last weekend, Copeland Lake looked pretty ghastly. It looked like it was only about half-full, which really surprised me since I would’ve thought it’d be filled to the brim from spring snowmelt. I found out later, though, that the city of Longmont, way down yonder on the dry & dusty plains, owns the lake and sometimes draws the water down quite a bit.

This was my first visit to Wild Basin and I only went an easy 2.7 miles up the Thunder Lake Trail to Ouzel Falls. The trail up to the falls is super nice and not at all rocky or terribly steep like some other trails in the park. In fact, if it wasn’t for the snow & ice that were still on some sections of the trail a bit higher up, I’d classify this hike as a pleasant stroll.

Just a short quarter-mile or so up the trail, you’ll come across signs directing you off to the left to Upper & Lower Copeland Falls. Neither set of falls is really anything to write home about. They’re just a couple of steep drops in North St. Vrain Creek. I did take a couple of shots of Upper Copeland Falls, but they didn’t come out very well due to the high contrast between areas of deep shade & bright sunlight. Probably the best photos here would need some overcast to even out the light.

About two miles up the trail, you’ll find Calypso Cascades (9,280 feet). Cony Creek tumbles 200 feet down the steep hillside, slaloming between boulders & fallen trees. Unfortunately, getting a good shot here beneath the trees was also complicated by areas of deep shade & bright sunlight.

Less than a mile from Calypso Cascades, you’ll reach Ouzel Falls (9,460 feet). The trail crosses Ouzel Creek on a small wooden bridge below the falls. From the bridge, you can see the 50 foot waterfall, sitting back the creek a little ways. To get closer to the action, you’ll need to leave the trail and follow the left side of the creek up the hillside to the base of the falls. When I was there, spring snowmelt was really pumping up the volume of water plunging over the five-story drop. The jumble of large boulders right around the base of the falls complicates the attempt to find scenic compositions. The close terrain & the trees don’t really allow you the option of “backing up” and trying to find a pretty shot of the falls from anywhere farther back. My best shot was taken from a large, flat boulder that juts up on the eastern side of the falls, immediately next to the creek rushing by on the right.

Although I only went as far as Ouzel Falls on this hike, I look forward to many return visits to this beautiful part of RMNP, when I’ll go farther in & higher up into Wild Basin.

Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich

great sand dunes national park

date of visit: May 9 & 10, 2009

Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve, located in the San Luis Valley of southern Colorado, is one of the more astonishing places in a state that has no shortage of amazing scenery. Great Sand Dunes promotes itself as “one of the world’s most diverse national parks,” and it’s hard to argue with that claim. The park includes 13,000 foot mountain summits, alpine tundra, forests, grasslands, wetlands, and—of course—the tallest sand dunes in North America. There’s also an abundance of wildlife. You’re almost guaranteed to see mule deer and pronghorn, while a bit higher up you might see elk or even a black bear.

The majestic sand dunes are the centerpiece of the park. They are the tallest (Star Dune tops out at 750 feet high) and highest (over 8000 feet above sea level) dunes in North America. Nestled as they are at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo Mountain Range, they’re a sight to behold.
Medano Creek is an unusual feature at the edge of the dune field. Fed by spring and early summer snowmelt, the creek flows around the eastern base of the dunes. You must slosh through the creek to get over to the dune field, so it’s a good thing the water is (mostly) just 1-3” deep in shallow, shifting, braided channels. One very cool aspect of the creek is a phenomenon called “surge flow,” where waves of water come pulsing down the creek pretty frequently.

For the best photography, Great Sand Dunes is definitely a morning & evening place. This is when the soft, direct light of sunrise & sunset will sidelight the dunes, casting contrasting shadows and accentuating the sinuous curves of the dunes. I had a very short period of good light on the morning (Sunday) I was at the park, but I was disappointed the previous evening (Saturday) when heavy overcast rolled over the area several hours before sunset. Ah, well… what can you do?

As you enter the park, you can stop and get a shot of the standard “official” Great Sand Dunes sign, which will be on your right… but immediately after you pass the sign, watch for a small pull-off on your left (just large enough for three or so cars). If you park here and then walk just a short ways down onto the plain, you’ll be able to get a killer shot with a small tree in the foreground, the grasslands in the middle distance, and then the dunes and mountain peaks in the far distance. You’ll see what I mean when you’re there, as there is no mistaking this spot. As you might guess, it’s best to use a long lens (I used my 70-300) to compress the distance between all the cool features in this composition. I absolutely hate that during my visit I was never able to catch any good light on the dunes for this shot, but I hope that you do.

There are also some other good panoramic shots to be had down near the park’s visitor center. Just before the center, there’s another of those small pull-offs on the left side of the road. You can park here and hike a short ways down into the grassland, toward the creek bed and dune field, watching for interesting compositions (this is where I went just after sunrise). Or you can just go down to the visitor center parking lot, as there are some trails out behind the center that are worth exploring (this is where I was for sunrise). These trails lead down toward the creek or out to vantage points in the grassland where you get some great views of the dunes and mountains.

I’ve already mentioned Medano Creek, and there are some neat shots to be had here along the creek bed. I got a few shots along the eastern bank of the creek, but my best shot came from stopping midway across the creek and setting up my tripod right there. This can be tricky, trying to juggle camera gear, backpack, & tripod while out in the middle of the creek, so I suggest you do as much preparation as you can before you actually head out into the water. Also, your tripod legs will begin to sink rapidly in the sand and flowing water, so just expect this to happen and compensate for it. And, hey, standing in the middle of a creek bed with camera & tripod will make you look like quite the heroic landscape photographer! Or a nut, which is probably closer to the truth. :-)

Once you’re out in the dune field, numerous compositions will begin to present themselves. Keep your eyes open, constantly scanning around, and just go for it. One word of caution: hiking up & down sand dunes that are hundreds of feet high when you’re at 8000 feet above sea level is exercise. Take water. I had on my hiking boots, but I saw numerous people walking around barefoot. I don’t know if I’d recommend this, as I’d hate to step on something in the sand & cut my foot, and be a mile and a half out in the dune field. Anyway, I went about halfway up High Dune on Saturday afternoon before the increasingly ominous clouds & then spitting rain convinced me to turn back. And on Sunday morning I didn’t even bother to attempt it again, since solid overcast started to roll in again shortly after sunrise. I was very disappointed with all this, but I guess I now have something to look forward to with a return visit in the future.

Unless you are camping at the park, I suggest you stay in Alamosa, which—although 35 miles away from the park—is the nearest civilization. “Civilization,” of course, being defined as having a Wal-Mart, fast food restaurants, and convenience store gas stations. And there are chain motels there, as well.

Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich

boulder falls

date of activity: April 25, 2009

Last Saturday was a very misty, drizzly day and so I ran over to Chautauqua Park in Boulder, thinking the Flatirons might look pretty cool in the fog. But once I got over to the park, visibility was so poor, I couldn’t even see the Flatirons! Quickly coming up with Plan B, I decided to head up to Boulder Falls and check out what was going on there.

To get to Boulder Falls, you start off west on Canyon Blvd, which turns into Hwy 119 as you wind your way up Boulder Canyon. About ten or so miles later, you arrive at the parking area for the falls (on your left). After you park, be careful crossing the road to get over to the trailhead. Once you descend the steps cut into the stone, a short hike back a rocky trail in a side canyon will take you to the seventy-foot waterfall.

As I crossed the road, I noticed the trailhead signboard was covered with warnings saying things like, “NO TRESPASSING” and “BOULDER FALLS CLOSED DUE TO ROCK SLIDES.” Man, c’mon, are you serious?!? Walking over to the entrance to the trail, I saw they were indeed serious. There were yet more of the ominous signs, along with metal construction-type fence and yellow police tape blocking off access to the rock steps leading down into the side canyon. Geez.

But I could see back the side canyon and could tell the falls were really rockin’, so… I ignored the signs, hopped the fence, and headed back the trail. The rocky trail was pretty slick because of the rain, but I didn’t see why they had the trailhead closed off. Maybe there were some rock slides the weekend before, after all the rain & snow then. I dunno.

Once you get back nearer to the waterfall, there are signs telling you not to go down below the observation area (where I took the photo at the top of the post), but down below is where you will get the good photographs. Just be very careful the closer you get to the water, especially when the creek is a raging torrent like it was last Saturday. Down next to the creek is where I got the two shots below.

The nature of the scene made a vertical composition work best. And I wanted to use the Canon 10-22 wide angle lens to best advantage, so I left the tripod at knee level and got right down close to the rocks in the foreground, while still able to get the misty background above the falls in the shot. After I got the shot with the rocks, I wanted to get another shot with the tree trunk (Ponderosa Pine?) as part of the composition. I really liked the color & texture of that tree trunk. So I framed a shot where the tree trunk would block off the left side of the frame, allowing the water in the stream to "bounce off" the tree and then flow out the other, open side. The final image looks just like I visualized, so I’m very pleased with the shot.

Just a final note: With all the rain & melting snow lately, the falls were really rockin’ last weekend, presenting an incredibly raw & powerful scene, but if you go later in the spring or in the summer, Boulder Falls actually turns into a bit of a twin waterfalls (like in the shot below, from last year), which is very lovely.

Thanks for reading about stuff I’ve photographed. ~Rich