Twenty-nineteen has been a personally varied and interesting year. The year started off roaming around the deserts of southern California, first with my family, then with friends, and finally by myself. This trip set a the tone for a great year of photography. In late March I found myself once again exploring more of what Edward Abbey refers to as “god’s country” in Utah and northern Arizona. Visiting these arid areas is always a welcome break after a long winter of rain and clouds in Portland. Prime Spring (May through June) found me making countless visits to the Pacific Northwest’s forests, falls, and creeks. Summer marked the biggest change for me and my family compared to the past handful of years. For the first time in five years my family and I decided to stay stateside, forgoing our new tradition of traveling out of country for much of July and early August. Remaining in the Pacific Northwest allowed me to backpack into the Cascade high country which, to me, contains the most incredible subalpine mountain scenery in the lower 48’s. Backpacking in the Cascade range was something I craved badly after several summers traveling overseas the previous five years., so it felt great to reconnect with a mountain environment which has meant so much to me over the past twenty years. Beyond my local backpacking trips my small family and I paid a visit to the High Sierra, Yosemite, and the White Mountains of California for two weeks. Let’s just say the Sierras left me wanting more and I can’t wait to return some day. Fall, like spring, was spent close to home, making weekly trips to Olympic National Park, the Redwoods, and southern British Columbia, in addition to exploring a personal project of mine in more out of the way locations in the eastern Columbia River Gorge. Thanks to all of my friends and family who came along on these trips and help make 2019 such a great year!
Here are a few of the images which have made 2019 such a memorable year:
Serpentine Stance (January 2019)
Nikon D850, Nikon 24-120 f/4 @46mm, f/8 for 2 seconds, ISO 400
After spending Christmas with my wife and son in Joshua Tree I was able to connect with photography friends, both old and new, out in the desert to ring in the New Year. It was great to spend time with like minded people, share our thoughts on all things photography and, hopefully, create some new art. Serpentine Stance is one of the new images I came home with. This viewpoint overlooking a vast field of badlands has been on my photographic radar since my first visit to the area in 2014. A handful of us made the drive up to this viewpoint to take advantage of the post-sunset glow we knew would fall over these badlands.. As soon as I walked to the edge I noticed this inverted s-curve coursing through the badlands and knew it make a great focal point to help organize these eroded hills. Once the glow reached its peak I switched to a mid-telephoto zoom. Compositionally the intent was to take advantage of crossing directions: one formed by the diagonal created by the curve and buttresses coming in from the lower right corner, the other created by the open area releasing from the top of the curve toward the upper right corner which is accentuated by the shadow/ light line. In the end this image may be one of my personal favorites from the year even if it was taken on January 1st.
Swept by Light (January 2019)
Nikon D850, Nikon 70-200 f/4 @175mm, f/22 for ⅛ second, ISO64
After saying goodbye to my friends I found myself with a few days to kill so I decided to make the drive to this lesser visited dune field in Death Valley National Park. After a few wrong turns I finally found a great place to park the pickup for the night. The quiet all encompassing - no wind, no people, no cars, no birds or animals. I was completely alone and the silence was stunning. I soaked in this feeling of solitude over the full day I was there. It’s rare for me to feel complete isolation and it was this aspect of my brief visit which made the trip feel all the more special.
Compositionally the primary objective was to balance the sunlit areas of the scene, especially how much of the upper right oval of light to include. In instances like this I find myself relying more on instinct over trying to think the composition through. Either the comp “feels” good to my eye or it doesn’t. Any adjustment relies less on telling myself what to do (“step left, zoom in, etc”) than it does just reacting wordlessly to the glowing image on my lcd until I sense that it’s as strong as I can make it in that moment, under that state of mind.
Setting Sail (January 2019)
Nikon D850, Nikon 70-200mm f/4 @78mm, f/22, for 1/100 second, ISO800, handheld
Second image from that evening in Death Valley. This is a great example of “found” photography -- an image whose existence was unimaginable when I first heading toward those dunes. I happened to be walking through this relatively flat section of dunes filled with beautiful low-relief ripples whose highest sections were catching the low angle late day sun. If I had walked by ten minutes before, or five minutes after, the light would not present itself as it does here. After quickly shooting a few compositions containing only the ripples I noticed this long dead plant sticking out the sand. The plant’s form reminded me of boat which, with the light catching the ripples as it did, had just begun its long journey across some unknown ocean, only in this case it was an ocean of sand.
Dragon’s Breath (March 2019)
Nikon D850, Nikon 14-24 f/2.8 @15mm, f/11 for 4seconds, ISO 400
Over the past few years myself and some good friends have spent late March road tripping through in the desert Southwest. These trips usually begin with a 9:00pm departure time from Portland . We then make an all night Cannonball Run drive to position ourselves somewhere in Utah for sunrise. The rest of the trip unfolds with a hard driving mixture of hiking, photography, driving, laughing, and drinking beer around a campfire at night. This image from northern Arizona was made after a sunset exploded across the sky -- and when I say exploded I don’t mean just across one half of the sky ,but literally 360 degrees of mind blowing color and light. This show may just be the single greatest sunset I’ve ever experienced. It was so good I caught myself laughing out loud to no one in particular, hooting and hollering. Sounds great, right? Well it was but with the sky going off in all directions a new problem presented itself -- what to shoot? Normally as I scout a location I consider the direction of the sun at sunrise and sunset and which features could be utilized at various times of the day and under different conditions. So when the entire sky exploded I found myself a bit overwhelmed with which scouted composition would be optimal. I’m usually pretty self-possessed while shooting but on this night I can admit to running around like a feral hog trying to line something up. All previous ideas seemed to run together with no clear front runner cementing itself in my brain commanding me to go! In the end I settled for a composition using a set of sweeping lines with the tallest petrified dune formation as background. While I enjoy this image those sweeping striations have been used in many, many images from this location. I’ve come to prefer this composition taken a while past sundown under fading light but while the color from the vibrant sunset still catching in the clouds.
The Big Deep (June 2019)
Nikon D850, Nikon 14-24mm f/2.8 @14mm, f/11 for 0.3 seconds, ISO 100
Although the Columbia River Gorge receives most of the attention (at least until the 2017 Eagle Creek wildfire) there are an incredible number of remarkable waterfalls lurking in southern Washington’s Gifford Pinchot National Forest which are equally photogenic, as long as your wiling to put the effort in to reach them. For those who feel comfortable with off-trail navigation and bushwhacking whole new realms of discovery await. Each spring my friend Brian Kibbons and I find ourselves on at least a couple of these excursions. There is something irresistible about scouting feasible descent routes into deep river canyons, plunging through the lush, overgrown forest, and picking paths across jumbled sections of downed trees in hopes of locating a beautiful waterfall relatively few have seen before. The value found in personal discovery, personal adventure, and confronting the unknown cannot be overstated. As modern humans we often shy away from the unknown, attempting to control our lives into predictable routines and outcomes, sanitizing ourselves from dead ends and disappointments. At least this is how my own life feels much of the time. From research I had known there was an amazing waterfall somewhere deep in this canyon (if we could find it), we just didn’t know how deep. From the moment I finally saw this waterfall I knew it was a gem. As much as I enjoy this photograph it was the sum of the experience we had that day which makes it one of my favorites from 2019.
Heaven’s Gate (July 2019)
Back in 2002 I spent ten days backpacking the Wonderland Trail which climbs and winds its way around the base of Mount Rainier. On the last day of the trip a weather system moved in. Initially the bad weather bummed me out, but as we picked our way to the day’s high point a majestic ridge of tall coniferous trees poked through the top of the swirling clouds. At that moment I realized just how beautiful and mysterious the Pacific Northwest’s notorious rain could be. I took one image on slide film using my old Nikon N80. That image has since occupied a spot in my brain. Ever since I’ve wanted to create a modern digital version. Fast forward to this summer: my family and I waited out a long rainy day in the lowlands before backpacking into the subalpine areas along Mount Baker northern slope. Just before sunset the clouds broke and I was able to photograph the view of Mount Baker which I had come for. Satisfied with that image I began the walk back down to camp. Very quickly I realized it would be a very long walk because of all the beauty the clearing storm was creating. Fog and mist were swept over many of the ridge lines radiating down from the peak. This frame was one of my favorites and, so far, most closely approximates the image I had captured all those years ago in Mount Rainier.
May It Last (August 2019)
Nikon D850, Nikon 14-24 f/2.8 @22mm, f/11 for 1/50 second, ISO 100
Clouds and rain were a frequent companion on many of my backpacking trips this summer. This late summer trip to Mount Baker was no different. As I hiked up to this location heavy moisture laden clouds threatened to unload at any moment. Luckily it held off. For the remainder of the afternoon and evening my world was comprised of a dense foggy, soupy atmosphere which reduced visibility to less than 100 feet. Sunset was a bust, of course, yet I dutifully set my alarm for another crack as sunrise anyway. My alarm went off and my first thought was there was a nearly zero percent chance conditions had improved overnight. Nature was calling so I reluctantly took a look anyway. I unzipped my tent and instantly was confronted by the ghostly outline of Mount Baker rising above a perfect band of mid-elevation clouds. I quickly packed and made my way up to this composition which I had scouted the afternoon before. As the light rose I fired off several frames capturing the movement of the mid-elevation clouds. As a veiled sun rose over the horizon line a burst of golden yellow light began flooding through the right third of the frame. For a moment I thought it would bathe the entire scene with this ethereal light but some unseen cloud shut down the light show. The infusion of light and color I did experience was easily one of the most awe inspiring moments of the summer.
Autumn of the Elders (September 2019)
Nikon 24-120 f/4 @86mm, f/8 for 0.6 seconds, ISO 200
Those of you who follow my work know what a personally significant place Olympic National Park is. I lived and worked there for two summers in college and the park played a leading role in my decision to relocate to the Pacific Northwest in my early twenties. In all of my visits I’d actually never actually seen these great rainforests during fall as the leaves were changing. This year I was determined to see this old friend when it was showing me something a bit different. I normally don’t like to visit the Hoh Rainforest in late Spring or summer because, frankly, the crowds make it difficult to want to create any photographs. I hoped Fall would be less busy, which it was. The forecast called for mostly clear skies which constrained obvious shooting opportunities to the late afternoon and early morning hours. On my first evening I wandered out to this beautify old moss laden maple tree whose personality at once jumped out and asked me to photograph it. The clear skies led to a natural cool blue color cast in the forest which I chose to run with by keeping my chosen white balance on the cool side. These cool tones helped to separate the warmer yellows and red browns in the foliage causing them to pop. This image may be my favorite from 2019 and I can’t wait to see it printed large.
Crystalline Forest (November 2019)
Nikon D850, Nikon 24-120 f/4 @78mm, f/11 for 1/13th second, ISO 64
Winter marked its arrival in central Oregon with a bang. Several nights of freezing fog transformed this Ponderosa Pine forests into an otherworldly realm of ice and white, punctuated by the reddish brown bark of the Ponderosa pine trees. I first saw these forests coated in hoar frost while driving to Thanksgiving dinner and it absolutely pained me to not be able to stop and photograph for a while. But I knew the next morning would be incredible. First light couldn’t come soon enough. From the moment I stepped out of my car I knew it would be a special day of shooting. It was one of those kid in a candy store scenarios with compositions everywhere. I came away with so many different images I found it difficult deciding which to process first. This frame caught my eye so I ran with it, although I think there may be one or more others I may just end up liking more. No matter, this image does showcase just how remarkable the conditions were that morning.
That’s a wrap! Thanks for taking a few minutes to look at these images and read some of the background of their making. Thank you to all of the people who shared these experiences with me and helped make 2019 such a great year!