January Adventure - 2018 Part 2

Consistent with an adventure that had not quite gone according to plan (“Plan, what plan?  We ain’t got no stinking plan!”), we wound up getting up late the following morning.  Whether it was because we forgot to set our alarms, or we didn’t realize how well the fragrance of juniper would help us sleep, or we mistakenly thought the thunk of snow clumps falling from the trees would wake us up early (“Snow?  What snow?”), we inadvertently slept in.  That is, of course, if you consider 5:30 to be sleeping in as we do when we’re out photographing.

Still, as our shooting the shooter story let sneak out, we had plenty of time to pack up Beast, make a pot of coffee and head over to the main ridge before sunrise.  And what a sunrise it was.

But as we’ve come to learn, these types of sunrises don’t last long.  One moment we were commenting on the thin red glow way off in the distance hoping that it would turn into something more, and the next thing you know the sky is lit up.  You pretty much have to be ready when it happens and then go at it with as many compositions as you can get away with before it’s gone.  Because everything happens quickly.

In this case, the timer on my camera indicates we had a little over 7 minutes between when the sky really lit up, to when the glow had receded nearly to the horizon again and the sky no longer made the image spectacular.  You’re either there to enjoy it and photograph it, or you’re not.  Fortunately we did both.  

The sky quickly turned into a typical overcast morning, so Ann and I walked back to Beast to finish our coffee and decide what to do.  As it wound up, we decided to do the same thing we did the afternoon before and we hiked down in-between and up the grassy hills to see how the landscape changed, to find out what was on the other side of the hills that we couldn’t normally see, and to photograph what the exploration had to offer.  This time, though, we headed left instead of right to make our way down.

Once again, the hike offered us views of things we’ve photographed many times before, but from a different perspective.  

The skies were interesting that morning, giving us a lovely light for the most part.  Off to the east, it was heavy overcast, which gave us a generally soft light for our initial images.  Over time, those clouds to the east began to break up and give us bursts of sunlight.  Towards the west, the heavier clouds thinned out, giving us wispy clouds and clearer skies.  The image above is looking southwest.

As we walked around the hillsides, we got a much more intimate feel for the place, and views we couldn’t get from the higher viewing areas.

At one point, I turned around to look uphill, into the sun.  It’s very difficult photographing into the sun, but sometimes it gives you something special.  I’ve been forcing myself to consider images looking into the sun for about a year now, often to very mixed (read: bad) results.  This time, the sun silhouetted a barren tree and revealed the fascinating layering of the clouds.

But as anyone who has ever photographed into the sun knows, film (or pixels) cannot capture blazing sun and a well-lit landscape at the same time.  To paraphrase Joe Cornish, a British landscape photographer I’m currently studying, in real life our “mind’s eye” ignores distractions (and adjusts to extremes of contrast) that ultimately succumb to the physical limitations of the photographic process and the perfection the eye seeks in a finished image.  The above image is as much a testament to the wonders of the digital age (the ability to bring out shadow details) as it is my ability to know that something was there and all I needed to do was to record it with as much detail as possible (without totally blowing out the sky) to create the image I had in mind when I made it.  You would never know from this image that it was a very bright morning.  Sometimes one gets lucky!

As we made our way up and over a hill, we were offered yet more previously un-seen views as the sun increasingly broke through the clouds.  As I had all weekend, I kept working on creating images with diagonals that run through the frame, trying to use lines and texture patterns that reveal the landscape.

We eventually looped around and returned to Beast, hungry, but satisfied with a good morning’s photographing.  So we topped up our coffee cups and headed towards Redmond to have breakfast at a cafe we came across during one of our previous trips.  

However, we had a stop to make as we drove through the Ococho National Forest to check out at least one of the snow park areas.  We didn’t stay there long, but it was long enough to know that we need to plan for winter photography next year.

Not only did a short stay offer us a nice open view of a meadow,

it gifted me an opportunity to photograph a creek that ran along side the access road.

Next stop - Redmond, and man was breakfast good!  I guess it helps to be starving when you get there.

But we weren’t done yet!  On the way back home we hit snow again and, as we passed by one of the several lava fields that the McKenzie Highway passes through, we pulled over to check things out.  Despite the fact that the sun was out and made for some contrasty shadows, the sculpted forms were beautiful.

It was just another reminder that we really do need to plan on doing some winter photography next winter!

It turned out to be a mighty fine weekend.