The Secret of Secret Canyon

Recently I posted some images on Facebook from a backpacking trip to Secret Canyon. Where's Secret Canyon? I was asked by more than a few locals. Having lived in Northern Arizona now for almost thirty years I have asked myself that same question on more than one occasion.  I kept hearing about Secret Canyon, but nothing specific in terms of where it was. I remember looking for it about ten years ago. I'm sure I never found it, at least definitively. I do remember some large pools surrounded by red cliffs, but that could easily have been anywhere.  Funny when you're hiking in a high desert climate, the hotter it gets, the hike begins to loose it's appeal and large cool pools of water begin to look pretty inviting. About three years ago I took up the search once again.  This time I brought a map. Such that it was. It was downloaded from the Red Rock Ranger District web page, and lacked any mileage or scale. There were plenty of canyons on the map. Long Canyon, Loy Canyon, Fay Canyon, Boynton Canyon. They're all on there. And they're all really cool and different. Some even have ancient ruins. Secret Canyon doesn't, but does have a  creek flowing in it,  mostly in the spring.  Until now I've never hiked Secret Canyon in the spring, but could tell you that there were some large pools of water in late autumn. Probably left over from our monsoon season.  So where's Secret Canyon?  The trail head used to be at the end of an old Jeep trail. The one that goes to all the arches (Vaultee, and Devil's Bridge). This year it was different. The forest service errected a new gate, and paved the first little rough part. I used to drive right to the trail head on the 4wd road.  Now we had to drive around the corner and park at the Long Canyon trail head.  This little change put about three extra miles on the trip. Normally I'd shrug. This time I had a nice 50lb pack. About a year ago we made it to the head of the canyon and hiked only a little ways up it.



We decided to make a loop out of it and another canyon, but didn't really explore Secret Canyon it for all it's potential.  We did, however, scope out some possible camping spots. We knew we'd be back.  We didn't know how much water would be there. Turns out, a  lot. The spring run off was in full force, and deep in the canyon we even found some pockets of snow. The map makes the cayon look like about ten dotted lines. The trail description says it goes for three miles and ends at a pool of water. Well I can tell you, it keeps going. In theory it continues to the top of Secret Mountain, but after hiking up it for three and a half hours it showed no sign of ending at some secret pool of water. After 25 (yes we counted) pool of water crossings we still hadn't found the end. I guess we'll just have to try again next year. The vistas are fantastic starting early on. You're surrounded by red rock, spires and of course the canyon.  We chose to bed down in a plateau area surrounded by desert scrub with views of the valley. Yucca, mesquite and juniper left us mostly exposed, but early spring is a bit chilly in the shade, so a litttle extra sun was welcomed. A little warmer, and we would have had to camp up the canyon which was much more shaded by large ponderosa pines, sycamore and maple.  The mesquite was in bloom and the sweet aroma of the little white flowers was starting to attract honey bees. Spring run off was trickling down the cliffs and into the creek.  The trail begins high,  follows the creek, and zig zags back and forth up and down.


The more impassable areas by-pass higher in the canyon on available terraces. Walking along the creek gives you the feeling of being in Zion.  High orange stained walls and deep under cut channels mimmick the back country canyons of Utah. Deep in the channel you can find a fairly large waterfall. If you were to follow the creek you would have to climb out one of the drainages to circumvent it. Its a little too large to be climbing through. Farther up the canyon the tall ponderosa pines contrast against the blue sky, and the red and orange cliffs. If you're observant you can see a natural arch high on the canyon wall. So where's Secret Canyon?  Just ask the helicopter pilots. For an extra few bucks they'll fly you along the length of the canyon in just a few minutes. Pay no attention to the hikers blatently exposing themselves to you from the canyon floor. They worked thier butts off to get there for a bit of solitude. So where's Secret Canyon? I could tell you, but then it wouldn't be a secret. Why would I deny anybody the joy of discovery?

Looney Guy at the Grand Canyon Lodge

 While traveling home from Cedar City's Shakespeare Festival last summer, we drove through Cedar Breaks and Brian Head ( see Twisted Forest ) and scheduled a night at the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.  On previous trips to the North Rim I've camped outside the park along what they call the Rainbow Rim. I haven't actually visited inside the park since I was in high school, so I figured that since I had a National Parks pass I'd continue to put it to good use and re-visit the North Rim. I got re-acquainted with the Grand Canyon Lodge with all it's little cabins. The terrace at the lodge is really an amazing sight.  Sitting in the Adirondack chairs and watching the sunset with a beverage is a nice relaxing way to spend an evening. Too bad I didn't do that.



  No that would be wasting precious time immortalizing it with my camera.  I did enjoy it all the same, except I can continue to enjoy those moments when I reflect back and look at the images I took. No, I was climbing up the rock spires and out on ledges to find that unique shot.  I even shot a guy climbing up rock spires and out on ledges shooting with his camera.  Truth be told we did have some beverages, albeit self served. We sat at the highest point along the canyon rim, watching the sun sink lower, casting its light show off the late monsoon clouds. The brilliant interplay of gradient yellows, oranges, and pinks morphing into new and interesting formations. Listening to the silence of the canyon absorbing the surrounding energy of the fading day.   The sun was gone, and so were our beverages. It was time to pack it in before it got too dark to make our way back to the trail. As I was slowly ambling back to the parking lot I saw that guy.



You know, the looney guy standing on the spire shooting with his tripod into the abyss. "Hey, you're that crazy bas#*rd that was shooting from that spire."  "Oh, that was nothing," he said like he does it every day.  We exchanged gear tech notes for a bit, and discussed our camping arrangements. We both had VW campers, and spoke briefly of all the virtues of a the mobile sleeper unit.  "You know, I have a pretty great shot of you on that spire. If you give me your email address I'll send you a copy."   We exchanged addresses and handshakes and parted ways.  Our paths crossed coincidentally a couple of more times after that both on some forest service roads and even here in Flagstaff.  I sent him a high res file in exchange for his model release. Currently the image is on Allstar Grand Canyon's tours website promoting thier tours in exchange for promotional consideration as well as shuttle service between the canyon and Flagstaff. It feels good to make these connections once in a while, and to be able to make people happy with an image I've taken. 

Toroweap Thanks for Giving

Beginning in the high elevations of the San Francisco Peaks near our hometown of Flagstaff, to the low canyons of Zion and the Grand Canyon, Kristi and I got to enjoy a nice long fall here in the Southwest last year. We had just gotten back from a trip to Zion when I had another trip planned, this time to the remote and rugged Toroweap area of the north rim of the Grand Canyon. Our preferred method of travel is the restored and retrofitted 76 VW camper, but this trip would probably see the van's demise. The rugged and unimproved sandy road to the rim is notably tough. The warnings from the park service state that a high clearance vehicle, spare tires and extra gas and water were highly recommended. Agreed, the last 10 miles were definitely an adventure. 70 miles from the nearest town, you don't want to be unprepared. The National Park Service maintains the small area, with composting toilets and a remote ranger station. They don't however, maintain the road.

I already serviced my 4Runner, and outfitted it with brand new BFGs with an extra thick sidewall. We packed the truck with gear and water then headed off. Kristi wasn't looking forward to the five hours sitting in the car, but I was determined to spend Thanksgiving far from any stores, commercials or Christmas consumerism that America bombards it's citizens with during the holiday season. I can remember driving through the area ever since I was about twelve years old. Back then I was bored to death and it seemed like an eternity to get to where we were going. Now as I drive through there I see nothing but photographic opportunities. I dream of the day when I can stop at every wide spot in the road and capture the amazing light bouncing off the red canyon walls. Too many photos to little time. Kristi, however, was bored to tears. I handed her my iPhone with some movies, and she settled down while I drove through the dreamscape that is Northern Arizona. We made decent time and arrived at the Canyon at about three thirty that afternoon. There were a few campers at the Tuweap campground when we got there, but the sense of quiet solitude was still present. We chose a nice spot facing the afternoon sun, just below a ridge of strange orb like formations. We immediately settled down, and tuned into the quiet. For four days we'd be gazing at the wide views, and listening to the gentle breeze.

There were only a few trails there, mostly along the rim. We carefully explored each one, analyzing the best viewpoints for later visits during sunset or sunrise. We were there undoubtedly for the photographic opportunity, but more importantly to relax and unwind. Sometimes photographers end up living through their lenses and not actually spending time absorbing the energy or the wildness of a place. Sure I made some images, but they mostly were squeezed in at the beginning or the end of the day. There was plenty of time to hike around and explore during the middle. We even played a few hours of Frisbee on a flat red slick rock near camp. After taking a couple of shots of the orb like rock formations, I got the impulse to set up a night shot. I had been watching the moon cast it's silvery light the night before and calculated that about 2:30 it would illuminate the rock and the canyon. I set my alarm, but like the many times before awoke shortly before it actually went off. I composed the shot, set my remote timer, and laid back down for the hour. Laying there staring at the stars I floated in an out of day dreams. Crickets and the gentle flap of the tent door were the only sounds....except... what was that? It was a sort of plastic rustling sound, and it was coming from the truck. My curiosity was piqued. I grabbed my flashlight and popped the hood to find a large mouse weaving in and out of the fan belts.



I wasn't sure I scared it off sufficiently, so decided to start the truck (if the wiring hadn't been chewed through). It started, but I stirred Kristi and had to explain we were being attacked by killer mice with death wishes. No doubt they were attracted by some coolant that had seeped around the hoses. I went back to sleep but with one eye open.  Wouldn't want to be mauled alive without a little warning. I came away with a couple of sunrise, and sunset shots plus a night shot and a couple of other flora shots. But the time outdoors watching the light and gazing into the deep canyon was what was really needed. Incidentally we were there during the first flooding of the canyon by the Glen Canyon Dam. They decided to let an enormous amount of water from the dam so it would create or recreate some beaches and mimic the ebb and flow of the river floods prior to the building of the dam.  From the rim you couldn't tell how much water was there, but I didn't have anything to compare it to.  They did continue the river trips, as we spent some time watching the rafts float their way down to Lava Falls. The weather here in Northern Arizona is usually really nice around Thanksgiving and I make a concerted effort to get outdoors, wherever it may be. Thanks Toroweap, for giving me a great Thanksgiving!

First Friday in February

I am pleased to announce that Vora Financial has asked me back as their featured artist for Flagstaff First Friday Art Walk. That's February First. I have almost thirty framed prints spanning the last few years of images. Many have never been seen until now. I've included images from Zion, from both the Subway and the Narrows, as well as my signature night and star trail photography. If you are in Flagstaff on February First head over to Vora Financial at 14 E Birch in downtown Flagstaff. A special thanks to Darmesh Vora for opening up his business space to display local art and artists. It starts at 5:30 and goes until about 8:30-9:00.

2012, 2013 and the Subway

First of all Happy New Year! The end of another year has come. We're all a bit older and wiser now (right!). This time of year one can't help but look back at and take stock in what we have, and what we have lost. We look at the good times, and think about what we have learned from the bad. I would say most people regard each year with bittersweet romanticism - we remember the good times, and try to forget the bad.

This year was no different for me. In February I lost my 100 year old grandfather, then in May my 15 year outdoor cat Mary, disappeared. Then a month later my 13 1/2 year old dog Max was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and had to be put down. I'm still wrestling with the guilt (I know, I know) of that one.

Although those things make me feel a bit melancholy, the year had some great times and landmarks. I helped my partner and girlfriend Kristi open her own Pilates business, which has been quite successful in the first 6 months. The renovation on my house was officially complete (are we ever really finished though?). My dad bought a rental property, which I have been charged with the task of renovating as well ( oh boy ). This year I signed a contract with Allstar Grand Canyon Tours agreeing to display my images on their website and promotional material, in exchange for free tours and transportation to the canyon. I've enjoyed months and months of displaying and selling my work from a small gallery in Vora Financial's offices in downtown Flagstaff. Plus, I had some wildly enjoyable adventures in Arches, Canyonlands, the Grand Canyon, Escalante, Bryce and Zion.

Photographically speaking those wild adventures translated into some of the best images of my life. Looking back at my blog posts from the last year, you can see the fruits of my labor. Ansel Adams was quoted as saying that a photographer is lucky if he takes 12 significant images over the course of a year. This was of course before the digital revolution, and the keeper rate is arguably way more than that for the average photographer. Honestly I haven't yet completed the processing of all my images from last year, so I'm not going to follow suit and post my top favorites. They are already posted right here in my blog.

What I have posted today is my favorite image taken in Zion National Park. It was made in the canyon of the Left Fork of North Creek in the most popular area called the Subway. It gets its name from the under cut and tubular looking sandstone formation formed by the creek and years of flooding and erosion. Only about a quarter mile long, it's one of those favorite icons of the southwest. We went in late November aiming for the last bit of fall trying to capture its colorful leaves. You have to get there early, and hope for a bit of sunlight to capture the sun bouncing off the canyon walls (kinda looks like train headlights in a Subway). Although I did take some standard compositions of the area, I tried to make an original composition of an oft photographed subject.  I hope you like it, and as always, feel free to comment. I hope you have a Happy New Year!

Snow on Red Canyon

Well since the end of the Mayan Calendar hasn't spelled the end of world, I can safely say Happy Winter Solstice, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and Kwanzaa. This is the time of year where we spend time with our loved ones, and think about whom we have lost. Somehow this year feels a bit different. Our trajectory as a society is taking us down roads that can only be described as questionable. People are realizing that the farther we get from our roots and nature, the closer we get to greed, power, corruption, and violence. What I really wish is that people take this time for introspection and retrospection. We all need to take a close look at ourselves, and learn to lead by example. As we have been granted another 5,125 years lets make it better than the last.

This image is from Red Canyon located between Zion and Bryce Canyon. The temperatures dropped quickly the third week of November and left 5 inches of snow on the canyon. The storm clearing out brought puffy clouds and a nice fresh blanket in contrast to the red rock.

Paria Rimrocks - Toadstools of Escalante

Just outside of Big Water, UT and almost across from the Paria Ranger station is a small parking lot. Park there. You will be treated to a very unique experience. I've passed the sign dozens of times driving between Lake Powell and Kanab and never stopped to see what it was all about. Always in a hurry, never time to smell the roses. This trip I made a special point to not only visit, but stay the night. Kristi and I were on our way to Zion, but didn't plan on arriving there until Monday. I decided to make good use of our extra time and visit the Paria Rimrocks Toadstools of Escalante National Monumnent. The sun was hanging low in the November sky when we arrived late Saturday afternoon. By the time we hiked the mile or so up the wash to the formations, the golden hour had already begun. I was hoping to have the place to myself, it being the off season and all. But cars kept pulling into the parking lot. snapshooters and photographers piled out and began making their rounds, visiting the attractions like a carnival arcade.

I have gotten used to this. The constant influx of gawkers, tourists and picture takers have inundated the wild west. We're all like minded individuals, out there to experience nature and take a little bit home with us, I thought to myself. It was getting a bit frustrating, though, waiting for the people to get off the formations and step out of the frame. I'd just have to set up a composition and wait. Getting away from people wasn't why I was there anyway. After all, we were pretty much at a roadside attraction. No, I was there to experience a rarity. To view the effects of the passing of geologic time: the curious erosion of the soft under layer of rock leaving caps of a harder red rock on top. To meet the silent statues that have stood against rain and snow and sun and wind for eons. To feel for ourselves the relentless glare of the sun slowly and methodically softening and cooling. From white to yellow to orange to pink. To see the long shadows creating definition, emphasizing every grain of sand and stalk of weed. To watch the reflections from the cliff faces illuminate both sides of the formations in pastel shades of brilliant color. We're here in nature's light show, it seems fitting there should be an audience. It's much better paying attention to the light anyway. Soon the sun went down and the people clammered back in to their cars, off to their hotel rooms. I smiled.

We were on Bureau of Land Management land. This meant we could camp in our camper right there in the parking lot. Now we had the place to ourselves. After little dinner and some liquid libation I began to set up for a midnight foray. Earlier in the evening on our way back to the van I tried to use my iPhone to determine the best vantage point to shoot the Toadstool Tower, as I like to call it, at night. There was definitely no cell coverage, so my star tracker software would not receive any telemetry. I'd have to do it the old fashioned way. Believe it or not I still carry in my bag a compass, a whistle, and a first aid kit, even for a mile. Don't get too reliant on technology, it might not be there when you truly need it. I found that by crawling down to the bottom of the wash I could look up and probably get Polaris in the shot. Now all I had to do was find the spot in the dark. I awoke around midnight as if my internal clock (or bladder) knew the best time to make a star trail photograph. There was no moonlight that evening and I got a little lost. I ended up hiking up the wash rather than the ridgeline where the trail went. A standard night photo in this case would require a low ISO, about 15-20 four minute exposures, and some light painting on the subject. Normally I use an intervolometer cable release for my night photography then stack the exposures in Photoshop. But this night I wanted to try something new. I'd seen night photos of the Mittens using film ( a la Kerrick James)that seemed to have a lot more color in the sky. I wanted to try something similar with what most new digital cameras have built into them called Dark Frame Subtraction, or high ISO noise reduction. Basically once you turn it on it takes a second frame at approximately an equal shutter speed with the shutter closed. The closed shutter exposure will reveal a noise pattern to the camera. That noise pattern after the shutter is released is used by the camera, and subtracted from the original image, all done with in camera software.

What I didn't know was how long a shutter speed or how high an ISO to use. To be honest, experimenting out in the field is a bit risky. I should have tried this at home. I spent three hours in the freezing cold trying to get it right. By the time I had gotten back to the van, the water for the dog had frozen in the bowl. I had chosen to use ISO 3200 for 33 minutes using my 15mm Pentax Limited lens at F4. When I reviewed the shot in the LCD it looked completely blown. The histogram was pegged to the right. I should have used 1600, I thought. It was too late, I sure wasn't going back. I had already taken the camera down and packed it in my bag while it was taking it's 30 minute dark frame. I wasn't about to gear back up and head back out. Deep down I was hoping to perform some sort of miracle rescue with Photoshop. Boy was I surprised when I got home...it worked! I reduced the exposure in Lightroom by about 3/4 then took it into Photoshop, masked the star trails and added a blended layer in screen mode for the rocks. The amazing thing was there was no moonlight, or light painting. All the light you see on the rocks were from the stars. Then there was the colors in the sky from the reflection off the atmosphere, another pleasant surprise. The problem with using DFS is you have to wait for the camera to take another exposure of equal length before you can view it on the LCD. I felt like I was using film again. I'd have to wait until I developed the image before I knew if it would turn out or not. Boy, using a compass, and waiting to develop an image. Hello fifteen years ago! Who needs technology anyway.