Heidi's Hotspots: Columbia River Gorge: Cape Horn Trail

When people think of The Gorge they think of two places - the amphitheater near George, Washington or the waterfalls along the Oregon side of the Columbia River. Ask a photographer about the Columbia River gorge they'll think of the latter, with wildflowers and expansive views. Hardly anyone thinks about the photographic or adventure potential of the other side - the Washington side.

But there are lots. Where Oregon shows off her stunning beauty at every possibility, Washington is just a bit more demure. You really have to look at her to appreciate the beauty she has to offer. The nooks and crannies, the hidden paths.

I do love the Oregon side of the gorge, and who wouldn't with her dramatic waterfalls and expansive flower-filled views. I could spend days photographing there. But I have also been able to spend days photographing the Washington side too.

One of my favorite places to hike and photograph is the Cape Horn Trail just east of Washougal, WA. Managed by the Cape Horn Conservancy, this trail meanders through forests to panoramic views of the Columbia River. Starting off from the trailhead along State Route 14, hike through forests alive with color. Forest wildflowers bloom in abundance here in the spring, but in early to mid May, the rich blues of Delphinium create a stark contrast against the light yellow greens of alder groves and ferns.

Along the way you'll catch views of the river and gorge and it's hard not to be distracted by the views. But keep your eye out for the flowers along the trail.

The loop trail is closed for Falcon nesting from January to July, but the 7 mile round trip hike from the parking lot to the Nancy Russell Overlook will fill your memory card with color, texture and patterns.

For more information contact the Cape Horn Conservancy.

The best way to keep your camera dry in a rainstorm.

I live in the Northwest and it rains here. No really, it does. I know you don't believe me, but I tell the truth. Some days it just rains more than others. I'm not sure which is a worse rain - the soft drizzling rain that soaks through even though it doesn't feel as if it would or the hard drenching rain that soaks through with one drop.

Both can wreck havoc on your camera gear. So what to do when it rains? Stay indoors? Never!

Here are some handy tips on keeping your camera equipment dry and workable during the wetter seasons (which in the northwest starts on January 1 and ends on December 31).

Electronics and water are not the best of friends, so it's best to try and keep them separated. To do this a plastic camera cover or sleeve is a great option. You can buy pre-made ones at your favorite camera store for anywhere between a few bucks up to $50. All of them work, but make sure you can manage working with them. There's nothing worse than heading out into the field and trying to figure out how to use your accessory or worse, the accessory is more trouble than it's worth. Try it out at home before you go.

Another option is to take a plastic bag (large enough to cover both your lens and the camera) and place your camera in the bag with the lens at the closed end. Next, take your lens hood (or a filter) and thread it on the lens (your lens will be on one side of the bag and the lens hood on the other). This creates an easily removable hole in the bag that is just big enough for your lens to fit through. Secure the end of the bag to the end of the lens with a rubberband and you're ready to go.

Speaking of plastic bags - it is also a good idea while you're out and about in the rain to also have a bag large enough to fit your camera bag into. It really helps to keep all your gear dry - a tall kitchen trash bag works well.

Now that you have protected your gear, how about protecting the front of your lens. Unless you really want them there, raindrops on the lens can ruin a photo or add extra time in front of the computer cloning them out.

Your lens hood can really help here. Not only will a lens hood block unwanted sun spots, it can reduce unwanted raindrops. And for those stray raindrops that happen to sneak onto the lens? A microfiber cleaning cloth between your exposures can help dry them up. If you're not ready to make another exposure, snap on your lens cap until you are ready.

So the next time it's raining, you'll be far more confident to head out for some weather photography. The above image was taken during a windy rainy day at Cape Disappointment in Southwest Washington at the mouth of the Columbia River. The waves crash violently along the cliffs during storms, so the next time a good storm is forecasted you know where to go.

Best Laid Plans . . .

It was shaping up to be the perfect image. I could see it all in my mind. Sunlight streaming over the hillside, lighting the flowers at my feet maybe a little sun-star effect to enhance the composition. But you know what they say, best laid plans of mice and men.

My buddy Ed & I arrived early to Dalles Mountain Ranch in the Columbia River Gorge. I knew the flowers were blooming and had really hoped I could convince him that heading to Columbia Hills State Park would be a good idea. Dalles Mountain in Washington is less well known than the over-crowded Rowena Plateau on the Oregon side of the gorge. We had photographed at Rowena the morning before - Ed really wanted that classic image of wildflowers at sunrise with the river in the background. And the flowers at Rowena were less than spectacular, in comparison to previous visits.

It was more Ed's trip than mine so I didn't push too much, until we woke up the next morning . . . with rain falling on our tents. We decided to get up anyway, because you never know what will happen in the gorge as my previous trip had proven. We got out of tents, saw a break in the clouds near Dalles Mountain and we sped off to our hoped for amazing images.

Thirty minutes later, we were traipsing through the flower-filled meadows on the side of the mountains. Raindrops still clung to the leaves and grasses, dowsing our boots as we looked for our vantage points. As I meandered, I looked at the hillside to the east and saw a notch that I really liked. Then I found the perfect batch of purple lupine for my foreground.

I was getting more excited as I saw my image come together. I started lining up my composition and saw the ridge just beyond my lupine lined with bright yellow balsamroot.

Yes! This was going to be perfect! The sun would peak at my flowers just to the right of the notch. The aperture of my lens was scrunched down as tight as it would go to make a nice sunstar. And as the sun crested the hill it would also cast light onto the lupine and balsamroot beyond.

I was down-right giddy.

I waited as the sun crept closer to the rim of  the hill. Then I noticed clouds inching their way towards the sun. I willed the sun to rise a little faster. And then just as it hit the lip of the hill to cast light on my perfect image the stupid cloud passed in between us.

NOOO! Stupid *&$%#@ cloud!

I probably shouldn't have called it a bad word, for just after my outburst I was hit with the clouds outburst of rain. I made a few exposures to salvage the morning and returned to the car and Ed, who had called it quits just before I did.

But I like this image and a cup of coffee and an omelette were perfect right afterward.

No Tripod? No Problem!

Ever head out on a simple hike or walk through the park and come across a scene that makes you stop and pull out your camera? Then you find that the scene is too dark for a fast enough shutter speed to hand hold? You may have even contemplated heading home for tripod, but were afraid to lose the light?

I think we've all been there.

I know I have. As in the image above.

I was able to stay at NatureBridge a couple of  weekends ago with several friends as we headed out to the Washington Coast for the April beach cleanup. A few of us decided to take a walk around Barnes Point where the learning center is located. I grabbed my camera, just in case I saw something to photograph along the way - but not the tripod.

And well, just a few yards down the trail I saw this scene. It's a classic scene of the Olympic Peninsula - moss draped trees, bushy ferns, green forest floor with a criss-cross of fallen trees also covered in moss and a trail luring you farther into the forest.

I had to capture this image. but a quick check of my settings and I knew I'd never be able to hand-hold the camera for a steady image. Glancing around, I saw a tree right next to the trail, so I pressed my camera against the tree and rattled off a few exposures.

I have on occasion used a stump, a rock, a log and even a hiking buddy's shoulder.

Most often when you are caught with a longer than desirable shutter speed, all you need for a steady image is something steady to rest the camera on. And maybe a continuous shutter, so you're not moving the camera with each shutter release.

So next time you're out and see the perfect image but it's a little too dark, find something to brace your camera against.

And then the clouds parted . . .

What do you do to prepare your photographic eye prior to a day's photo trip, or a week's photo voyage? What are your sources for research? Do you pour over guidebooks? Read descriptions on travel blogs? Look at other photographers' works?

Admittedly, I will do all three. Not to copy the work of those before but to understand what to look for as I'm there. How does the light hit certain landmarks during different times of the day? If I know I want to be here at sunrise and there at sunset then I don't have to spend too much time trying to find the places I want to be. And if I'm travelling to photo excursion for just the day, I don't waste precious time finding the image with the light.

So, on a recent trip to Beacon Rock State Park on the Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge, I flipped through images on google. I had been to Beacon Rock a few times before and climbed to the top of the famed rock. (A little history, the rock was named by Lewis & Clark on their journey west. The rocky thumb sticking up from the river's edge helped guide them along the river.) But I had never seen the rock from the water side of the park. Looking at the images on google, I realized that the river view would be amazing both in the morning light and again in the evening.

So the morning after I got to the park (after midnight, no more camping spots, slept in my car right next to the train tracks - oh yeah, I forgot about the trains), I hopped out of the car and looked eastward towards the lightening sky and saw along the horizon building clouds. Sigh.

Now would you go home after the research, the drive and the train disturbed sleep in your car? I hope your answer is, Heck No! And a good thing too. The weather report said partly cloudy and clouds blow in and out. So maybe, hopefully, all the stars will align and a break in the clouds will let the sun shine though and light the face of Beacon Rock.

I set up my camera on the mooring dock and waited. Talked to another photographer, and waited. Chatted with the fishermen waiting for their friends, and waited. Finally my bladder couldn't wait any longer and I walked back to the shore. Did my business. My dog Zillah did hers. Then we meandered over to the boat launching dock.

And as we got to the end of the dock . . . the clouds parted.

Looking at the World a little Differently

Sunset reflected, Cape Meares Lighthouse, Tillamook, OR

Have you ever looked through images of a place you're planning a photo trip to and notice that so many of them look the same? Do you begin to wonder if you'll be able to add to the images already created? How can you create an image that both defines the place you're heading to and your vision?

The idea here is to explore your vision and creativity.

I do advocate that you look at images from other photographers (both professional and amateur) who visited an area. This gives you an idea of what has been explored before.

When you arrive, don't be afraid to follow in their footsteps. There is a reason art students often copy works of the masters - it helps them explore their own style.

While you're photographing the scene, keep an open mind and an open eye. Watch how the light is moving across the scene, look for a different vantage point, get closer (zoom in with both your lens and your feet if possible). You might find an image worthy of your vision.

The story behind the image above is one of timing and watching the light. We arrived at the Cape Meares lighthouse near Tillamook, OR as the sun was rapidly setting between clouds and the horizon. I noticed that I might be losing the light I wanted on the lighthouse so sped up a bit to try and catch the light without losing my friends. Then, looking up the hill behind the structure, I came up with an idea - catch the last light THRU the lens housing! I ran up the hill and composed an image but the light wasn't really as I had hoped. But I did notice the reflection in the window panes, re-positioned and recomposed for the above image. A slightly different view of a popular lighthouse.

Now it's your turn to look for an image that speaks to your artist's eye.

Waking up Early

The alarm cut through my dreams, a hot knife against my unconscious meanderings.

I looked blearily at my alarm and wondered why I would ever think the tinkled chimed and bird sounds would make a pleasant awakening.

Snooze.

No sooner had I closed my eyes than the alarm clattered in to my dreams like an unwelcome drunken guest.

Snooze!

But I laid in my bed staring at the ceiling debating whether I really wanted to get up and drive for 2 1/2 hours for the possibility of a sunrise.

After several minutes I decided no, I would sleep in, turned off my alarm, and snuggled deeply into my blankets. Then my hand was over the edge of the bed, picking up the pants I had deposited there the night before. First one leg, then the next. My shirt, shoes, hat, camera bag and I was out the door with car keys in hand.

Without thinking, I adjusted myself for the drive and sped off down the dark roadways. My only thought as I progressed was not to speed too much, the highways are lonely at 4:30 on a Sunday morning and I didn't want a ticket. A little over an hour later I was topping off the gas tank and grabbing a gas station coffee to keep myself company.

The air was filled with water, a fog that thickened and dispersed as I drove past farms and trees and finally started climbing towards the volcano. In Seattle we call Mt Rainier The Mountain, Mt St Helens The Volcano.

I was hoping to get sunrise from the Castle Lake Overlook, looking southeast at the volcano, color behind the snowy flanks and crater. But I would have to get above the fog.

Elevation marker 1,000 feet - fog. Keep going,
Elevation marker 2,000 feet - light fog, can see clouds, but no breaks in the clouds. Keep going.
Elevation marker 3,000 feet - clouds, and there are breaks in the clouds, maybe - no stars. Keep going.

As I rounded a corner there in front of me shone a sliver of the moon, shining like a beacon for me to follow. No stars, but there was the moon. This was going to be a good drive. I pulled into the overlook just after 6:30 as the sky was lightening on the horizon, and the clouds began to subtly blush.

Compose, shutter, compose, shutter, compose, shutter until the color faded. I listened to the coyotes howl in the distance.

I drove onto the Coldwater Visitor Center on the ridge overlooking Coldwater Lake. The Visitor Center is open limited hours on weekends during the winter. My destination was the bench below the Visitor Center with a view of the volcano peeking out from behind a ridge. Elk meandered through the meadow below me and the clouds blushed again. I played again with compositions before the color faded.  I watched as a lenticular cloud built up around the crater rim, looking like a clouded comb-over. I moved along.

Heading back down the highway, I stopped at the Elk Rock Overlook as the clouds behind the volcano began to yellow from the morning sun and the volcano's comb-over smoothed itself into a wig.

Waking up early, mystery and loveliness happen in the infant hours of the day.