Christmas Eve Disappointments?

Wow! Talk about disheartening. I decided to take Christmas Eve off so I could explore the waterfalls of southern Washington, along the Lewis River and beyond. I would camp near the river but the campgrounds in the area were already closed for the season. I checked the road on the Gifford Pinchot National Forest site and there were no updates. However several descriptions said the trails I wanted are accessible throughout the winter. And there are private campgrounds in the area. Worst case, I could always just sleep on the side of the road. I had done my research and was looking forward to a weekend of photography.

Sunday morning, I picked up my dog and set off along I-5 to Vancouver. My first stop was 40 miles east of Vancouver for a collection of falls that I had been wanting to visit since the spring. I saw them in my head with traces of snow and knew they'd be gorgeous. Were they? I don't know. I will have to wait for another trip for there was far too much snow to drive any further and with the fast approaching darkness and more snow falling I decided to not chance the drive or the hike along 5 miles of road. I turned around and started back to Vancouver and continued to Woodland. The rain mixed with snow proved too much for me after the long and unproductive day. Time for a cheap motel that would accept Zillah.

We awoke the next morning to partial blue skies. All I needed to do was reach one of the trail heads for the Lewis River trail & I'd be set for the day. Excitement for a long deserved winter hike sped me along the road. Not even the gathering clouds & fog were going to put a damper on my day. A sign stated that forest road 90 was open. YES! But then I got to the turn-off. Nope not open. The snows over the past few days hadn't been cleared. If I wasn't alone in a sedan without cell service, I might have tried it, but my first rule when heading out on an adventure is to not become a headline. So I turned the car around. And stopped.

Dang it! I was not going to waste this trip. Zillah hopped out of the car with great joy and ran though the snow into the forest. I pulled out my tripod - the forest was very pretty with the snow & the moss - and extended one leg of the tripod. Next thing I know, I'm standing with the leg of the tripod in one hand, my tripod in the other and bits of plastic in the snow at my feet. F***! After tossing the tripod back into the trunk, I grabbed my camera & shot a few views handheld, including the blur of Zillah running through the snow.

The rest of my trip to my aunt's house for evening celebrations, was spent looking for images. The image above is from a slight causeway above a damn near the town of Cougar.The low clouds in the dark trees, the almost glass-like surface of the water made me stop. I can't tell you how many times I have driven past this area and never bothered to stop. Those other times, the view didn't speak to me. This time it said, stop - all is not lost - let my tranquility soothe your spirits - let me be the image that redefines your trip to marvelous.

Tunnels of Terror 2012

It was a dark & stormy night. Ok, not so stormy, not really all that dark, and night - well we started hiking at 10 am so kinda not really that either. Autumn finally hit the northwest with full force. Heavy rains brought out the water proof shoes and the gortex. We had been expecting rain on our annual Halloween hike, but instead of rain - low hanging clouds. A nice cool foggy hike worth the anticipation.

Our northwest autumns don't hold a colorful candle to the northeast colors, or so I'm told. I love our autumns here - the Vine Maples turning wonderful hues of red beneath the yellow of the Big Leaf Maple. Red Osier Dogwoods and wild blueberries join in to add their warm tones to the symphony of color and I have in front of me a grand chorale of visual harmony. Add a little fog and I squee like a pika.

I immediately started to lag behind the other hikers. While they laughed and chatted, I stared into the leaves, transfixed on the colors and shapes. While they shared the trail with each other, I started taking pictures to share with others. I finally caught up with them at lunch and we dined on delicacies to make our hike a special one.

But I had already been experiencing a special hike in the colors and weather of a northwest autumn.

Learning Something New

My dear friend Dr. Michelle Mazur of Relationally Speaking recently challenged her clients to do something they weren't good at. In her blog, she spoke of her heinous attempt at art and vowed to take an art class. Michelle will be the first one to tell you she hasn't an artistic or crafty bone in her body.

It's just not her strong suit.

I will be the first one to tell you that I can not take portraits.

I have tried. I suck at it. Being an introvert, it is difficult for me to communicate the desired pose and how I hope it will look in the end result. I barely passed Studio class in school. As a result I like to take pictures of flowers, waterfalls and dogs. Portrait photographers hold a very high esteem for me. They are able to do something I could only dream of.

So when she challenged us to do something we suck at, I knew she was telling me to focus my lens on the human face.

I had some practice before. A few years back I challenged myself and joined a Street Photography group.

I had fun. And produced some show worthy work in the process. But there I could hide behind the camera, shoot from a distance, stay invisible.

Actual portraits? That means an interaction and communication, ideas that incite apprehension and at times fear.

Giving Michelle my goal she reacted with joy. Then I asked if I could practice on her.

"Of Course!" she replied.

I would like to say that I overcame my fear & apprehension. Michelle is a good friend of mine after all. But alas, I was tongue-tied and lost in my directions. I asked her to face a glass wall and she made fun of me while trying to comply (she wanted to know her motivation). I wasn't sure what I was looking for but got something. In her frustration with my direction she began to laugh and there she was - the woman I know she is: fun, happy, confident, strong.

Later she said "Dude, you need to make me look at walls more often." She now uses that image in some of her promotional materials. Plus another image when all I could tell her to do is walk between this spot and that spot.

Her tagline is "What is your presentation destination." An image of her walking near a sculpture at the Olympic Sculpture Park exemplifies the journey to the destination perfectly for her.

I may not have overcome my sucking, but there is hope.

Cabin and Flowers

I had been wanting to head to Mt Rainier's Indian Henry's Hunting ground for several year - ever since I had passed through on my trek along the Wonderland Trail and then later saw the amazing meadows and wildflower display. When I had hiked through, the meadows were still under at least a foot of snow.

No flowers. No meadows. Lots a flies in the outhouse but that's a different story.

That 1st trip, my hiking partner & I sat on the deck of the Patrol Cabin not knowing it's history (it is the 1st such cabin to have been built in the park). We admired the view of the mountain rising from the cabin's "back yard", imagined the flowers that would appear later that summer.

Nothing would prepare me for the wildflower images I would see after the hike. Those images inspired me to plan another hike to this wonderland.

When a buddy of mine expressed a desire to be at Indian Henry's for the wildflowers and shoot star trails over the mountain, it gave me the perfect reason to head back up.

We opted to camp at a cross country zone behind the cabin and Mirror Lakes so we'd be close to the area we wanted to photograph, thinking that Devil's Dream Camp was too far from the meadow. Just remember that the hike to the cross country zone was heinous - trail was unmaintained and at points dangerous in the dark.

We set up camp and decided to stay put through sunset and stars. Too tired to explore.

The better time to photograph the historic cabin and the meadows would have been in the afternoon on the way in. The sun would have lit up the cabin set back in the trees and I really wanted to get that image.

On the way out, I stopped to take the shot I had missed on the way in even though I knew the lighting just wasn't what I wanted. The cabin hid from the scene in the shadows of the tree. I started planning on the hike out which Photoshop actions I would use to make the image something reminiscent of the history the cabin has experienced.

The right time, The wrong light

When it comes to Photoshop, I've heard it all. Is that real? Did you Photoshop that? Using Photoshop is lying. I especially love the last one. Since when is photography not lying or distorting what is seen. We compose in camera, use certain lenses and filters to show the viewer only what we want them to see. I could go into a dissertation as to the similarities between digital post-processing & analog post-processing, but wouldn't want to bore you.

Saying that, I have one confession to make. Yes, I use Photoshop.

I use Photoshop to enhance images. There are not many images I create that are not put through my Photoshop workflow. And since I shoot in RAW I really need to have a workflow in digital post-processing.

Most images don't need much work. Others however, as shot are not what I envisioned as my final image. I knew at shooting that I would be adjusting colors, enhancing contrast, removing that little distraction I just can't seem to get out the frame.

When I showed up for a sunset shoot near Eunice Lake in Mt Rainier National Park, I had grand hopes of glorious alpenglo on The Mountain.

What I got was drap.

Boring, even.

So I knew, when I got home I'd be playing a little in Photoshop. And play is what I did.

I had taken several exposures for the light tones, dark tones & mid tones in the scene knowing I would blend them later. This process often brings out the colors. But my image was still a little lackluster. Not at all what I had wanted.

Now in the old days, I could have added a colored graduated density filter to add more color to the mountain. Now, with Photoshop, I don't need all those expensive camera filters. Photoshop has them pre-programmed for me.

I chose a nice purple lens filter for the mountain.

I like purple.

And it enhanced the mountain to a vision. A piece of art.

I was able to take drab light and still make a nice image.

And now you know the truth.

A Hike for my Mother

The Canadian Rockies. My father was drawn to the monolithic mountains between British Columbia and Alberta. Every few years, he'd pack up his "4 girls" and head north in search of photos & wolverines. My mother's searches in the Rockies were far more simplistic. She really only wanted 3 things to make her vacation a true vacation from all the cleaning & cooking.

A day fishing without her squabbling daughters, an amazing blue tartan skirt, and a hike to one of the teahouses near Lake Louise.

Dad was able to give her the day of fishing, at least one a trip. The skirt she saved for months to buy. But the trip to the teahouse was made.

So on a recent trip to the Canadian Rockies in pursuit of my own photos, I decided to make a trip for my mother to not just one teahouse, but both of them. The trails interconnect to make a wonderful trip through forest, past lakes, over glacial moraines and views of mountains close enough to touch.

The Lake Agnes teahouse is perched on a ridge overlooking both Lake Agnes' turquoise blue waters and the views down the Bow Valley. I could almost feel my mother as I climbed the last of the steps and hear her gasp at the beauty unfolding before me - golden larches reflected in the smooth lake surface, mountain peaks towering into the sky all around. Tears flowed as I took several images of the lake and reflections, knowing mom would have been sitting on the porch with her cup of tea an murder mystery, patiently waiting.

After composing myself, I hiked around the lake and over the Beehive to catch the trail to the Plain of Six Glaciers and the teahouse there.

By now the afternoon sun was beating down on me and I knew mom would have been struggling against the heat as I was. But I continued on, looking forward to the cup of tea I would have for my mother and maybe a treat? The trail was dusty and the meadow dry as I entered the courtyard, an assemblage of natural pavers leading the way to the two-story structure.

Sitting on the balcony, I chose the ice wine tea. Not something my mother would have chosen, but she would have appreciated the novelty. And perusing the menu, a Gluten Free brownie? Oh yes, I would get a treat as well. The waitress brought out my tea cup, a lovely little porcelain type cup with pansies. Mom loved pansies. I felt her smile and her hug as I sipped my tea and watched the afternoon slip by.

Fear Doesn't Live Here

I have this fantasy of myself. I like to pull it out once in a while and play with the fantasy, but really the reality of chasing my fantasy frightens me. I like to think sometimes that I am a mountain climber, scrambling up rock and ice to stand on a great pinnacle of the earth. I will view imaginary images of myself in glacier glasses and parka, skin weathered by the elements smiling for the camera. But I have this slight fear of stumbling and falling to my death or a rock slipping from under me and I fall to my death.

It's a fear that sometimes stops me from going further up the mountain.

It's a fear that keeps me from standing on a pinnacle, smiling for the camera.

Several years ago, I decided to do something that frightened me every year. Generally "the event" takes place on near my birthday. Several years ago I crossed a crevasse on my way to spend the night at Muir Camp on Mt Rainier. The next year I scrambled up loose dinner-plate sized shale to a view, just short of the top, of the Goat Rocks Wilderness. After that, my non-competitive self decided to run my 1st triathlon.

Through all I realized my fears were nothing to be afraid of.

Then I found myself hiking up to Tooth Saddle on my way to scramble Bean Peak. The final scramble was an option. I didn't have to go and thought that I wouldn't. I even voiced that I might just stop at the saddle. I'd have great views.

But then something inside me said why not?

Each step, each climb got me closer to the top. I stopped once & thought "I still have to come down this." A fleeting thought that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

Then it was one last wedge of the foot into a crack, one last handhold, one last movement - my arms, legs and body moving in unison to gain the summit.

The summit. I stood on a pinnacle of the earth enjoying the view, but oops, forgot the picture. Did get a pic of Trail Turtle though.