Waterton and Water

 Waterton National Park, in Alberta Canada is part of Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park, a union of the Waterton Lakes National Park in Canada and the Glacier National Park in the United States, their union is a World Heritage Site, achieved through the efforts of Rotary International members from Alberta and Montana, on June 18, 1932. No doubt the park name was coined from a nice abundance of water. Landscape photography is always better with water, and Waterton does not disappoint.

We rolled in to the park rather in late afternoon from what was an entire day's driving from Glacier. Having done little research on the park we went to the visitor's center right away and asked what was available for camping. Being from the states we were accustomed to dispersed camping around the perimeter of the national parks. Canada was surprisingly a lot different. The don't have national forests, just provincial parks, and national parks. The surrounding property in Canada is privately owned, so free camping is not on the menu. The fees were a bit steep too. $25/day will get you a week in our national park, but only a day in theirs. It didn't take long to figure out that when entering a Canadian National park you pay for a day and stay a week. If you wanted to say longer, and pay for it you would have to leave the park and enter again to pay. There was little enforcement, and no easy way to pay for longer stays with out going through the entrance station again.

 The visitor center was accommodating, and helped us find a campground with empty spots by calling them directly for us. Tired from driving we retired to our campground; pamphlets and research material in hand. Pulling up to the kiosk, the teller was sweating profusely and complaining about the heatwave. We notice a flier on the bulletin board announcing a native indian dance presentation they were having at the campground that evening. The native Canadian tribes are referred to as "First Nation" people.

 They share similar cultural practices as their Native American counterparts. They even get a monthly stipend from the Government. The early elders negotiated a stately sum of $5 a month per person in return for their land. In the day it may have been nice, but the contract didn't make provisions for inflation. They still get their $5, but have to wait in line all day to get it, and as you know, can only get you a nice cup of coffee. Tres bien.

 The next day the weather returned to normal temperatures, and finally some clouds made their appearance. Our day was full of bear sightings and waterfall hikes. We caught a bear swimming in Waterton creek, another bear dining on a kill, and a mother with two little cubs. The great thing about Canada's parks; you can hike with your dogs. We took them up Lineham Creek to the main falls, and leisurely back down again, acutely aware of the extreme bear activity.

 We made as much noise as possible as we passed trees with deep claw marks, and took care not to step in large droppings. Our running joke was "Does a bear shit in the woods...." as we side-stepped large mounds. "No." They shit on the trail. We wrapped up the day in Waterton townsite, visiting the cute shops and coffee houses. Ducking the occasional cloudburst, we stocked up on provisions getting ready for our next foray to Banff.

Glacier II

 With my back up camera in hand I was happily able to continue shooting with my new lenses. I gave Kristi my old Canon P&S, which still takes really good landscapes.  I wouldn't have been totally out of commision, if I hadn't had a back up.  We stayed outside the park the night before, and we were both up early to get going.  Entering the Many Glaiers section of the park we were treated to the rising moon over Lake Sherburne.  I chose an infrared filter when processing this image to amplify the contrast of the moon on the bright blue sky behind.   


 We didn't get too much farther before the moon repositioned itself just over this tree in the valley with wild flowers.   It doesn't get much better than this, we pulled over immediately and got the shot.  

Just when I was rapping up, one of the cool busses that operate through out both Waterton and Glacier National Parks drove by.  They are old Ford busses that were originally built for the park, but recently resored by Ford Motor Company. They retrofitted them to run a more emission friendly propane.   Each passenger has thier own door, and the roof canopy rolls back to give passengers unobstucted views. 

Next up was Swiftcurrent Lake.  We arrived just in time for the first ferry to break the glassy water of the lake. I waited until I thought the ferry was out of view and the waves calmed down a bit to get this reflection shot. There was a nice water fall from off the dam that we hiked a short distance to get to.  There were bear and mountain lion sightings posted all around.  Our awareness was heightened in fear of discovering surprise wildlife.

Glacier was having a heat spell at the time, and was suffering from a high pressure system, so clouds were rare.  We wanted to hike around Swiftcurrent Lake and to some other lakes close by, so drove to the trailhead just up the road. Big horn sheep were rumored to be seen in the area, and we were on the look-out.  The dogs had to stay in the van, but before we left, we sprayed them down with the water spigot there in the parking lot.  We hiked along the chain of lakes and further up the creek.  With all the rapid run-off  the ground was squishy, and some drifts still lingered.  We decided to hike up another spur to get more photos of waterfalls, but soon came to a rushing creek with a washed out bridge. We had to retrace our steps and return the way we came.

Just before we hit Swiftcurrent Lake there was a rustling in the bushes.  I could hear people up the slope, and figured it was them. Then pow, before I could even raise my camera a big horn sheep crossed the trail, and disappeared into the thicket.  The people off the trail and up the hill were trying to get a shot of them, but failed too.  I was left with nothing but a blurred memory of a blond rump.  The last half mile we crossed Swiftcurrent creek and I grabbed a couple of photos of the creek and mountains. They were a bit unamazing, but with a little photoshop prowess, made for a nice couple of black & white infrared photos.

Glacier I

When visiting national parks sometimes doing a little bit of research is good for finding sunrise or sunset places. Sometimes not. When I did some internet research on Glacier National Park one of the recommended sunrise spots was St Mary Lake. I got up early, and found a spot on the shore and waited. And waited. The sun came up, left the lake in shadow, and there was only a small bit of light on the opposite hill across the shore. It was a bust.The real light was happening up the Going to the Sun road at Lyell pass. Lesson learned. The reality was there was very little going on in the sky, as there was a dominant high pressure system during the time I was there.

The light was harsh when we got to the top. I guess you just need to follow your instinct (and the light), and not be lead by what the internet says. Going to the Sun road was beautiful, waterfalls were flowing down every crevasse and canyon. We were treated to a rare experience at Lyell Pass.

When we got there we witnessed people grabbing their skis and snowboards, climbing up the side of the mountains and skiing down. This was June 24th. Glacier had received so much snow that year the pass had just opened the week before. Eight feet of snow still sat beside the parking lot, and the bathrooms were in operational. The park service had installed porto potties in the parking lot to accommodate. And me without my skis in the middle of June! We had our crampons though. We decided to hike to Hidden Lake, which was really hard to see. It was indeed hidden by ice and snow. We climbed the hill to the overlook and were surprised by some mountain goats.

 They were really tame, and started to hike with us. As we traversed the mountain and got to some green grass we left them behind to make the decent into the Hidden Lake basin. We never made it to the actual lake, as it was really bright and sunny. We were feeling a bit burnt on our eyeballs, and anticipating the long scramble up the snow back to the overlook.
Not wanting to pass up the snowplaying festivities, we decided to glissade back down the hill, being careful not to scoop snow with my shorts pant legs. Well turns out that last little bit was too much for my two month old camera lens.  It rattled the shims out of it and into the mirror box.  The next time I turned my camera on it quit. I removed the lens and discovered the parts inside.  With a week and a half still left on the trip, I was not happy.  Fortunately, I had my back- up camera with me and was still in the game.

Back of the Bow

Oxbow Bend in the Grand Teton National Park is one of those places that has been photographed time and again. Tour companies schedule delivery of hobbyist photographers each morning before sunrise to take the quintessential of all landscape shots. Those often photoed iconic shots are beautiful, that's why there is such a rush every morning. But getting those shots to be original is a daunting task. Once in a while it might just pay off to look around to what else might be worthy of a photograph. You might be able to get an original photo if you just turn around. The featured photograph today was one of those shots. While the hoards of photographers were snapping away at the bend, I saw some beautiful light just behind me. I did get some beautiful shots of Oxbow Bend. Don't get me wrong, I have no issue with having them in my portfolio. But being a little less myopic can sometimes produce equal rewards.

Spring has Sprung

The delicate leaves fresh and green. The buds on the trees. The happy chirping of birds engaged in mating and posturing. Fragrent flower petals bursting in color. Cold crisp mornings, and the fresh smell of the anticipation of summer is in the air. Somehow after even the mildest of winters the spring leaves look a little greener, the water a little clearer. Early enclaves of green fight to regain its hold amid the sea of brown and lifelessness. Spring has sprung.

Spring Snow in Sedona

"We haven't had this kind of snow in at least 7 years!" remarked a local Sedonaite during a conversation on the suprise snow storm on March 17th. Indeed. It was a bit of a surprise to me too. Kristi and I took the last couple of days of her spring break to explore a bit of unknown areas in and around Sedona, Arizona. We spent the first two days lingering around Oak Creek, and Sycamore Creek working our tans and throwing our dogs into large pools of water. Now we were deep into a wild moist spring storm. I had advance knowledge that we were expecting a storm, but according to NOAA's web site, we were only supposed to get 4 inches- in Flagstaff. Sedona rarely gets snow, so when it started raining late Saturday night I was hardly concerned. We could see the storm blowing in, but we had chosen a nice campsite 9 miles out on Forest Road 525, in a wind shadow of sorts. A huge fire, liquid libation, and dinner mixed with a day of hiking the ruins around Loy Canyon brought heavy sedation to the both of us. So when I awoke around midnight and heard some rain on the roof of the van we knew the storm was upon us. Sleep once again arrested my consciousness. I woke again early the next morning to extreme silence. Warm and cozy in our sleeping bags we were stirred by the dogs anxiously shaking, announcing their full bladders. Sliding the van door opened we began to fully grasp the gravity of the storm. There was 5 inches of snow on the ground, and after stepping out, two inches of mud below that. About 75 feet off the forest service road in an established campsite, we scratched our heads and wondered if we would ever get the van out, and whether or not we had cell phone coverage. Snow was still coming down, blizzard style. With out our habitual morning coffee or breakfast, we decided to leave- if we could. The van started with little issue, and I pulled forward to get a running start and promptly slid into a large bush. Now the wheels were spinning. Kristi started to stress, fearing the worst - A six mile hike to the highway in a snowstorm and a hefty towing bill. I got our spade out and cleared an area of snow around the van, then threw some rocks in with the mud. Rocking back & forth I freed the van, and trying to avoid a large pile of rocks promptly slid into another bush. We decided to spend some more time clearing the remaining 50 feet of snow off the ground all the way to the roadway. I instructed Kristi that she would need to push, since she was not willing to drive backward. I told her I would be pulling forward, then quickly backward to gain enough momentum to drive over the hole I had created with the spinning wheels.
She would need to push once I started backward. It worked, once I was free I gently feathered the accelerator then gunned it once I got momentum. I bumped over the ditch and slammed on the brake as soon as I hit the road. Since the road was on an incline, the rain water shed off, and all I had to deal with was 5 inches of snow. We slipped and slid through wet mud puddles and snow until we hit pavement on Boynton Canyon road. I began to breathe easier now that the threat of sliding into a ditch was less likely. After getting a bit of gas, we made our way to the freeway only to find that the Highway Patrol had closed it. They were making travelers exit, and blocking the entrance to prevent anyone from entering. Even though the van had no heat, we thought we would use the time to play tourist in the snow of Sedona. We drove around to the various sites, capturing the rarity. Getting cold, hungry and jonesing for some coffee, we decided to hang out at a local coffee shop until they opened the freeway. NOAA said the storm was to last until the next day, dumping even more snow in the meantime. We had our laptop, so we started looking at the internet and some prices of a room. Rooms in Sedona are ridiculous, maybe we'll just drive to Cottonwood, we thought. At about 11:30 we checked the Flagstaff paper online- the freeway was open. We took off, and immediately it began to snow even harder. Peering through small gaps between snow on the windshield we crept up the freeway to find a couple of tractor trailers parked side by side, and traffic behind them. Great, no heat and stuck on the freeway behind two trucks sliding backwards on a hill. Impatiently, one car was able to edge along side of them, then another and another. If I had any traction, I was going. We got around the trucks and slowly drove 25mph for the 45 miles home. White knuckles all the way.Believe it or not a 76 VW bus is great in the snow. It not only has high ground clearance, the engine is at the rear over the drive wheels. Backing up through mud and snow is a kin to a front wheeled drive car doing the same forward. Go VW! We got home to 18" of snow and another 8 fell over night.

Yellowstone for Waterfalls

Yellowstone National Park is known for many things, probably most notible, the abundance of wildlife. While there is much opportunity to capture bison, moose, eagles and bears there is a limit to how far from the car you can travel. Especially if you have dogs waiting in the drivers seat for you to come back. Since we were travelling with our dogs, and in a National Park, we could only dayhike, or hike with our dogs on the paved surfaces, according to park policy. As much as I like shooting wildlife, I seem to lack the luck of getting that wild pack of wolves chasing an elk calf, or that bear foraging safely close enough and not interested in me. That's okay with me. Allthough not known for sweeping mountain vistas reflecting off still waters, Yellowstone will not dissapoint a landscape photographer. Our foray into Yellowstone started with pulling into a beautiful little campground right on the Snake River. Snowcapped hills and rushing water flowed just feet from the campsite. So did the mosquitoes. We watched the other campers running from thier vehicles to the bathroom waving thier arms and hands as if to confuse the bugs off thier trail. We spent the afternoon with a map of the park trying how best to see the sights, without backtracking. The weather report called for rain for the next couple of days. Perfect! What am I crazy? No, but overcast skies and rain are perfect conditions for shooting waterfalls. We tracked out a sort of basic outline to hop from falls to falls, and ultimately exiting the park from the north, or Mammouth Hot Springs. Our first stop was my favorite, Moose falls. It was located just inside the park entrance from the Teton side.

If you weren't careful you could easily drive right past it. It indeed was raining, but somehow the light was just right to really bring out the greens in the mosses. With overcast skies, you can leave the shutter open longer, and thus smooth the water out to make a nice silky waterfall picture. The next stop was Lewis Lake. There was a small falls just nearby, but you have to park and crawl below the bridge for a decent view. It was raining really hard at that time, and the composition was a bit flat so we moved on.

Our next stop was out toward the east end of the park. There was not much to see at that end, except a big lake. Which would have been nice, though wet. Instead, we opted for a quick side hike to a natural bridge. I was surprised another little waterfall was flowing just below it. We exchanged greetings with a family of yellow bellied marmots, and returned to the van to our patiently waiting pups. Next stop: the venerable Upper & Lower Yellowstone Falls. It was raining, still.

I blew out the Upper Yellowstone falls, because I couldn't set my tripod up with all the hoards of people. I did have fairly good luck at the Lower falls, as well as Inspiration Point.

Unfortunately, a bear had just attacked a hiker just a few miles away from the area and all the hiking trails were closed, forcing us to move on. Next up was Gibbon Falls. The rain began to let up by this point, which meant that the light would be brighter, and leaving the shutter open would likely blow out the highlights. To solve this I installed a polarizing filter and a netutral density filter. They kind of work like dark sunglasses. I could then leave the shutter open longer, giving the water that silky look.

Alright. You can't not see It. It is really spectacular. Water shooting out of the ground. And on schedule. You can't get that lucky even in bed. The rest of the day we saw the usual boiling cauldrons and exited out the west gate in search of what else; free camping. Somehow we found our selves on a bluff looking down at the border of the park and a large creek surrounded by wild flowers. Not a bad place to chill, kick back some beer and slumber.

Our first stop for the day was gas, ice, beer and groceries. The next stop was a shower. Worth the two bucks, by the way. We did some back-tracking to get to Tower Falls, but oh well. It's only gas, and the destruction of the planet. Tower falls was one of my favorites, and we tried to hike to the base. The trail ended up being closed due to a number of trees that had fallen and made the trail impassable.

Undine Falls was next on the menu, and also very pretty. It was best seen from the road side pull off and a great place to eat lunch.

We got to Mammoth Hot Springs, but it was getting late. If we were to find a free camp spot we would have to leave the park and have time to search out a site. So I took a couple of pics and we cruised down river and out of the park. We found an interesting site over looking a river and an old quarry of sorts. We did return to Mammoth, but that story will have to wait.