The day after my niece was born, both Jen and I were lacking sleep, and Malie was lacking human contact and wanting a walk. I grabbed my camera as we were headed out the door, and saw these dramatic clouds. I immediately visualized a black and white photo, and made the shot accordingly, to capture the contrast and drama. The tricky thing with shooting B&W versus color is that the photographer has to be able to see things in a different way; tones and contrast, instead of just the color. Even with digital photography and the ease of digital photo editing, not every color photo can be made into B&W and have the same feel as a photo shot strictly for B&W. If any of that makes sense to you, great! If not, here’s a photo:
Yes, I went to the same spot again. There is something about the area that draws me to it, I don’t usually visit the same location more than two or three times, but a couple weeks ago, I couldn’t think of anywhere I rather go and camp. Best part about the Brainard Lake rec area is that it offers some of the best scenery in the state, without driving multiple hours to get there. This was my fifth visit to Isabelle Lake within a year. First the infamous “lighting strike” trip, where myself, my Mom and my Dad shared a lighting bolt backpacking our way over Pawnee Pass to Crater Lake. Second, was the 15 mile, one day marathon from the Long Lake trailhead over Pawnee Pass, and down Cascade Creek to the Monarch Lake trailhead. Third was a snowshoe to Long Lake in the Arctic cold December wind. Fourth time was a longer snowshoe trip all the way from the winter trailhead a mile below Brainard Lake to Isabelle Lake. Which brings us to June 26, two days shy of my birthday, and the opening weekend for the Pawnee Campground at Brainard Lake. Usually when I go camping, I have the truck loaded the night before, and leave the house no later than 7:00 am. This trip was a bit on the spur of the moment, so I didn’t actually leave until Saturday morning at about 9:00. I arrived at about 10:30, set up camp in the almost full campground with a nice view of Brainard Lake. After a bit of an early lunch, I headed off to Isabelle Lake, and so did everyone else in the campground; or so it seemed. Of course after seeing the place in the winter, more than five people seems like a lot! I took my time on the way, as photographers do, making the two mile hike in about two and a half hours. My intention was to spend the the afternoon and evening up at Isabelle Lake, relaxing and watching the light change, waiting for that “magic hour” when the sun sets. I sat there watching the clouds build, sprinkle a few drops, and move on. This kind of nothing-too-special afternoon weather passed a few times, until finally the clouds built too a point that said to me “you won’t want to be up here in about five minutes.” I started down, leaving behind about 15 people who didn’t get the memo from the weather gods. Sure enough I got down to the cover of the trees, and the rain began, followed by the lighting and the hail. With my plans thus changed, I went back to camp to dry out and have some dinner. After eating, the weather was once again calm, and I made the decision to head back up the hill to Isabelle for the sunset I intended to photograph. The trip back up, I wanted to get there as soon as possible, and made the hike in 45 minutes. I was thrilled to see that I was the only person at Isabelle when I arrived at 7:45 pm. While I was hoping for more color in the clouds, I was not disappointed with the results. For anyone who hasn’t hiked in the twilight hours, I can tell you that it is one of the most amazing experiences one can have. The light is there, and it isn’t, you can see, but you can’t; it’s full of contradictions. I returned to the Long Lake trailhead a bit exhausted, but hoping to get back to camp and shoot some stars, but there was a thin layer of cloud that obscured everything but the full moon. I had also intended to wake early to get back up to Isabelle for the sunrise, but decided against it when my travel alarm went off at 4:30 am, instead I shot the sunrise at Brainard Lake (a mere 100 yards from my camp). After packing up camp somewhat early, I stopped at Red Rock Lake and made some clicks in the morning sun, and slowly made my way back home, stopping off CO 72 on the way to Nederland to make some more incidental clicks of a scene that caught my eye off the side of the road. Take a look at some of the results!
White Globeflower
Marsh Marigold, or Elk's Lip; named for the shape of the leaves
Spring runoff pours over the rocks
Runoff pours out of the east end of Lake Isabelle
Lake Isabelle from a familiar spot. I shot from here in April
Shoshoni Peak in the changing light
Large ice floes lazily melting in the warm sun.
Elk's Lip enjoying the high waters of South Saint Vrain Creek below Long Lake
Mount Toll in the late afternoon
Lake Isabelle in the fading evening light
Sunset at Lake Isabelle
Twilight in the forest
Sunrise greeting the Indian Peaks, from Brainard Lake
I was driving to work yesterday morning toward Boulder and saw this through the windshield; I just had to stop. Whenever I set out to capture moments like this, they never come; too many clouds, not enough clouds, I get setup too late to get that nice morning light. But when I have to be somewhere and can’t hang around to wait for the scene to change, or just enjoy the moment, the perfect ones happen. Often the simple clicks are the best.
Long's Peak rising above the fog on a front range morning.
Once again, I couldn’t resist the draw of the Indian Peaks wilderness. Something about it calls to me on such a deep level, I cannot explain. Twice I have been there in the summer; absolutely beautiful. Now twice I have been there in the winter; absolutely beautiful in a totally different way. As most of you know, the seasons in the Rockies don’t follow the seasons on a calendar; for winter above 10,000′ lasts well into what we know as summer at the lower altitudes. That is why, on Wednesday this week in April, I refer to this as my second trip to Indian Peaks in the winter. Six feet of soft snow everywhere, snowshoes strapped on, jacket, gloves, wind-proof pants, all the while in Boulder the temps reached into the middle seventies! I love the diversity of climate that living near the mountains offers; something for everyone! I headed out again from the winter trail head about 2 miles below Brainard Lake, and pushed all the way to Isabel Lake, four miles distant, through some mostly un-tracked snowy wilderness; this is the kind of stuff my dreams are made of! What a feeling to be one of a very few to venture this way during the snowy season. Anyway, my thoughts of it are totally incoherent, so here are the photos!
The Raven, my totem, or spirit guide.
Navajo Peak from Long Lake
The fast moving clouds made for some great sun patches on the mountains.
Shoshoni Peak in the brief sunlight.
Me and my hardy mountain dog, below Isabelle Lake with Shoshoni Peak in the background.
Navajo Peak.
The trio visible from Isabelle Lake; Navajo, Apache, and Shoshoni Peaks
Navajo Peak again.
Mount Toll (left) and Paiute Peak (right)
Niwot Ridge leads in from the left to the point of Navajo Peak, and the bulkier Apache Peak on the right.
Monday was feeling just like Monday, that is until Kasia called me with a desire to get out of the house and shoot some digital film. I couldn’t resist; it was a gorgeous day, and I was thinking to myself minutes before that I shouldn’t be wasting such a beautiful day inside. So after lunch we headed westward without much destination in mind, and we landed at Chautauqua, since most of the higher elevations received a light coat of snow the night before. Here’s what I came away with:
This pipe looked a bit incongrous to the rest of the surrounding vegetaion.
Spring runoff in the meadow beneath the Flatirons.
State flower of Oregon...in Colorado? Oregon Grape enjoys the fine spring day on the Front Range.
Flatiron #1 framed by the branches.
The tender green shoots of grass basking in the sun caught my eye.
I seem to be obsessed with places named “Pawnee…” Unlike the pass that bears the same name, the Pawnee Buttes are out on the plains of northern Colorado contained within the Pawnee National Grassland. Now just let me say that I am more accustomed to the mountains and photographing the landscapes there, so coming out to a “National Grassland” is something new for me, as well, I had to adapt my photography to suit. I tried to incorporate the ENORMOUS sky in many of the shots to try to encompass the immense feeling of openness that the plains offer.
For wildlife, I didn’t see very much while there. Eagles, hawks and falcons nest on the escarpment to the south of the west butte, but none were in the air, and the area was closed to foot traffic. The meadow larks were quite busy singing and flitting about though, and got a couple clicks on them when they would allow it. My need for a longer reaching lens was made evident, since I could not get within about 60 or 70 yards of any of them.
As far as geology goes (those of you that bore easily might as well go on to the photos), the buttes themselves are made up of soft clays and shale of the Brule Formation, somewhat protected from erosion by the harder sandstone and conglomerate of the Arikaree Formation. Conglomerates and sandstone differ in consistency only by the size of the sediments they contain. Conglomerates tend to have the look and feel of a rough concrete, holding small rounded pebbles and cobbles ranging in size from 1/16th of an inch up to 3 inches in diameter. Sandstones are just what they sound like; sand and clay compacted and hardened (process called lithification), ancient sediments that were laid down when the whole area was an inland ocean. Fossils are commonly found in the clay and shale underlying these harder materials. Miocene and Oligocene fossils of horses, camels, birds and tapirs have been found in the area.
I enjoyed the trip, I hope you do too!
West Pawnee Butte in the late morning sun, from the western overlook.
Malie stands out on a the Arikaree Conglomerate formation that caps the shale and protects it from erosion.
West Pawnee Butte from near the western overlook.
Detail of the Arikaree conglomerate.
Stumpy vegetation sculpted by the relentless plains breeze.
The capstone of this small butte fell away a long time ago, leaving the soft shale to erode.
View of the Brule shale cut by a seasonal creek bed.
Meadow lark on a yucca stem.
Birds in flight are hard enough to get, let alone a smaller bird like the meadow lark.
A meadow lark perches on a dried yucca stem to keep and eye on me.
West and east Pawnee Buttes together, west is in the foreground.
A good view of the strata of the west Butte.
At first this looked like a piece of conglomerate, but on closer inspection, it looked to be fossilized coral! Still not sure if this is accurate.
I couldn't resist this one, she just sat down next to the rock while I was composing a shot! Apparently she wanted her picture taken.
West Pawnee Butte under the immense plains sky.
A large chunk of the Arikaree sandstone from the cap of the east Butte.
Malie enjoying lunch on the east Butte.
South side of the west Butte basking in the afternoon sun.
Well, it’s been a week since we returned from Montrose, and I am just now getting around to posting some photos from that return trip! Since Interstate 70 had only one lane open through Glenwood Canyon, we took the “scenic” route via US285/US50 which takes you past a great variety of climes in this great state. My opinion is that you get a bit of every type of landscape Colorado has to offer along this route; plains, high mountain passes, fourteeners, high mountain parks, down to the arid semi-desert dotted with stunted pines on the western slope. Along the way we had seen mule deer, pronghorn, golden eagles, bald eagles, bluebirds, and ravens. Coming up to Cerro Summit, we paused a few minutes so I could take a couple clicks of a Bald Eagle perched in a cottonwood watching Cedar Creek for a nice fish (who can blame him?) We then stopped for lunch near the Blue Mesa Dam, and looked down at the start of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Next, we stopped along US285 with a great view of Mount Shavano and company to let the dog stretch her legs a bit. Afterward, we just drove straight on home, as we were both fairly exhausted by that point and wanted to get home.
A Bald Eagle watching Cedar Creek for a nice fishy snack
Black Canyon of the Gunnison from a view point near Blue Mesa Dam
A Mountain Bluebird holding on to a fence in a strong wind.
From left, Mount Shavano (14,229'), Tabeguache Peak (14,155'), and Mount Antero (14,269')
I was reading a magazine recently when I came across a software product from Nik Software called Silver Efex Pro, and I couldn’t resist giving it a try. Nik produces some amazing plug-ins for Adobe Photoshop and Lightroom, but what attracted my attention to Silver Efex was my admiration of Ansel Adams (like any nature photographer) and my own experience shooting black and white film and developing it in a darkroom. As is so common with digital photography these days, the darkroom has moved to the computer. For those so called ‘purists’ that believe you are not a ‘real’ photographer if you do any kind of post-processing with your digital photos, I ask you to please give me a break. How many hours shut in a darkroom do you think Adams or any others spent dodging, burning, masking and formulating developers for both film and print? My answer is a whole lot more than it would take now with the digital darkroom. Anyway, (stepping off my soapbox) here are some of the results I have using Silver Efex. There are some amazing tools and effects that can be achieved with this tool.
A black and white version of the shelter near Wild Irishman mine.
You can create some amazing photos with a combination of HDR and black and white.
Aspens, black and white, infrared
I was extremely pleased with this result. Very Ansel Adams-like in my opinion
The color image is great, but the monochrome creates a different feel to it altogether.
A Bristlecone Pine near the summit of Chief Mountain.
I call this one 'Tentacles of the Pines'
Twisted grain of a long-dead Ponderosa pine still stands.
I tried a few things with this self-portrait. I applied a 'blue filter' to the photo in Silver Efex.
This version used the 'Antique Plate' preset in Silver Efex along with an orange filter, and the 'burn edges' effect.
A silver of the Saints John cabin.
The second 'Antique Plate' preset in Sivler Efex.
Foggy day at the Commons open space, used a little bit of the sepia color tone to warm up an otherwise cold day.
I’ve been feeling the cabin fever quite severely in recent days, so I decided to get the hell out of the house and go snowshoeing again. This time I basically opened my snowshoeing guide-book to a page, pointed to a trail and went there. The trail to Saints John is a short trip, but a grueling one. Steep and steady, it took me two and a half hours to climb 1140 feet in 2.25 miles, and half that time coming back. As soon as I started the snow began to fly, which didn’t bother me too much since I was out to be in the snow. Malie (my dog) loves the snow, and I only wish I had as much energy and stamina as she does! We reached timberline, and the wind was picking up, so we stopped so I could take a few shots of the snow-clad forest and enjoy the quiet solitude. My reverie was broken by the sound of a pair of snowmobiles heading up the trail. You can read more about it on my examiner.com page. While examiner.com is more of a journalistic approach, what I post here is more about the photography, and the being in the wilderness.
Looking southeast from Loveland Pass
Bear Mountain, west of Saints John
These trees must have withstood and avalanche some years ago.
One of the remaining cabins in Saints John, still in use today.
Tip-top Peak (left) and Morgan Peak (right) of Collier Mountain
I woke up one morning last week disgusted with the fact that I haven’t really been outside of a city block in almost four days. I know, yuck. So I headed off before sunrise to catch some of the great winter morning light on the front range, which I missed by about 10 seconds, also the fact that there were some clouds hanging out over the eastern horizon limited the light to about 45 seconds total! Brushing that off, Malie and I headed west toward Brainard Lake, thinking about what that area looks like in the winter, and I was not disappointed. The road from Ward up to Brainard has a winter closure gate about a mile and a half from the lake itself. From that gate, there are a couple snowshoe trails and a nordic-ski-only trail up to Brainard Lake, and the nordic ski trail continues on up another two miles from there to Lake Isabelle. It was easier to just walk up the road where there wasn’t enough snow to require the snowshoes, and I could avoid the other people as well, since I was in need of some alone-in-the-wilderness time. I reached Brainard Lake in about forty five minutes and was continuing on to the Long Lake trailhead when I spotted what I thought were a cow and bull moose browsing in the willows on the south side of the lake. Not expecting to see much wild life at all, I left my 70-300 lens in the truck, arming my self with only my 18-200. After watching the moose for a while through a measly 200mm, I could see that I wasn’t looking at a cow and bull, but three very large bulls! All of them quite mature, with their great palmated antlers stretching at least sixty inches in width. The wind biting at any exposed skin forced me to move back from the lake shore, into the trees, and on to Long Lake. After another mile and a half, I reached the trailhead to Long Lake. The last time I was at this particular trailhead, my close family and I were beginning the fifteen mile, one-way journey to Monarch Lake, a smaller tail-lake of the enormous Lake Grandby. Here are the images from that journey. The short quarter-mile trip to Long Lake was the only section that required showshoes. I was completely amazed that no one else had broken a trail in the snow from there, it brought to life again my inner explorer to know that I was the first one to tread here for some time. Although it was a nice sunny day in the upper forties down in the city, the wind up at ten thousand feet dropped the temperature below the zero mark. The extremely strong winds prevented me from staying as long as I wanted to. All said, it was a good day outside, with some good photographic results:
My snow dog.
Apache Peak (L) and Shoshoni Peak(R)
From left; Pawnee Peak, Little Pawnee Peak, Mount Toll, Paiute Peak, and Mount Audubon
