Eastern Sierras in 4 Parts

Click on a photo to see a larger size.
800 miles and 1200 photographs later...

Joining a photography workshop is a great way for me to travel. I connect with like-minded people in photogenic places and have an opportunity to learn from a professional. For four days, I participated in a workshop in the Eastern Sierras, led by Gary Hart. Our first meeting place was in Lone Pine. When I realized it was a 7 + hour drive, I decided to arrive a day early. I knew that once the workshop started (on Wednesday at 2:00), we would be on the go from before sunrise until after sunset. I didn't want to start out tired from a long drive. I didn't waste my extra time on location. After checking in on Tuesday afternoon, I set out in search of Mt Whitney. I happened upon and followed a road named Whitney Portal, and this is what I found.Wednesday morning I was up before dawn, drove up the same road, and pulled over when I saw a potential composition. I was so pleased. The sunlight illuminated the mountain tops. The peak on the left is not Mt Whitney, it is Lone Pine Peak. Mt Whitney is glowing in the distance. Did you know that Mt Whitney is the tallest peak (14,495 ft) in the contiguous US? I didn't.

With this wonderful introduction
and a good night's sleep,
I was ready for the workshop to begin.
NOTE:

We photographed in so many places and I took so many photos,
that I divided my blog into 4 parts.
You can see more of my photos on my Flickr site:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/suebrazelton/
and those from some of the other participants at:
http://www.flickr.com/groups/garyhartphotographyworkshop/

Part 2 Capture the Light

Photography is all about light. Other factors matter, but without the right light, a photograph is usually bland. This is why serious photographers are out on location before dawn and after sunset. These are the times when the light can be magical. And if we are lucky enough to have a sky with clouds that reflect the light, well, it just doesn't get much better. The top photo is looking west over Lone Pine Peak and Mt Whitney. The next one was taken from the same spot, looking east. It pays to look around. When the grand vista is not available, it is time to search for smaller scenes. On a morning with so much cloud cover that the sky stayed gray, a shaft of sunlight nudged its way through to illuminate this small portion of the Alabama Hills.

We spent two days photographing at Mono Lake, with its unique spires of calcium-carbonate know as tufas. Its a popular spot to photograph and we arrived early enough to catch the glow of the low sun...

and stayed late enough to capture the post sunset color. Most people leave as soon as the sun sets, thinking the show is over, but we were patient and waited for the clouds to lift just enough to display radiant light in both the sky and the lake.

Early the next morning we were back at Mono Lake for the sunrise. These two shots were taken before the sun cleared the horizon, while the sky was still a deep blue and the water was mirror still. Beautiful light.

For the evening shoot, we set out for Olmstead Point, an over-look about 20 miles into Yosemite on Tioga Pass. When we arrived, the valley was completely socked in and rain was falling. Optimists that we were, we set up our tripods, protected our cameras as best we could, and bid our time. Unbelievably, the clouds gradually thinned and revealed what we were waiting for: a view of Half Dome. This is another of my favorite photos. I love the natural gray scale with just a tinge of pink.

Next morning we were back at Mono Lake, but at a spot called Black Point on the north shore. To get here, we hiked through tall grass, over sand & into the muck of the shore... in the dark. The tufas on this side of the lake are not tall spires, but low lying mounds. Our trek in paid off. We were rewarded with a fabulous eastern sky full of intense light.

This last photo was taken from the same spot on the same morning looking south. We were quite literally surrounded by beautiful light. Once again, I favored these more muted hues.

Continued...

Part 3 Capture the Color

The higher elevations of the Eastern Sierras are a go-to place for Fall color. The small towns of Lone Pine, Bishop and Lee Vining were filled with photographers (and those who like to fish). After the spectacular light of the morning shoots, we headed into the canyons. The leaves were just starting to turn, so we were able to catch a mixture of green, yellow and orange. During our first shoot in Bishop Canyon, the wind was blowing so much that I had to give up on photographing individual leaves. For this shot, I slowed the shutter speed as much as possible (with the help of a neutral density filter), and let the wind blur the yellow. This simple photo is one of my favorites from the trip.

Our next destination was Lee Vining, a small town 60 miles north of Bishop. I was very tired and looking forward to some much needed down time before the sunset shoot at Mono Lake, but I followed Don Smith (the second professional leader of the workshop) on a detour into Rock Creek Canyon. I promised myself that I would stop shooting at 2:00, no matter how beautiful the scenery. When the clouds broke up a bit and blue sky showed through it was tough to leave, but I was satisfied with the shots I collected.

The last shoot of the workshop was in Lundy Canyon and I was determined to get the leaf close-up that had eluded me for four days. This is somewhat different than I had envisioned, but I loved the mix of colors and the rain drops were a bonus.

Continued...

Part 4 Bristlecone Pines

I can't let this end without mentioning the Bristlecone Pines, the oldest, single living organisms known. Some have been alive for close to 5,000 years!. After a long and winding drive in and a half mile hike up a steep trail, we were greeted by these ancient, gnarly trees. (As soon as I signed up for this workshop, I ramped up my workout schedule because I knew that carrying a camera bag and lugging a tripod uphill at 10,000 feet was going to force me into oxygen debt. With frequent stops to slow my heart rate and suck in more air, I am pleased to say I held up pretty well.) Thick clouds and rain presented a mostly gray background.

This was a most satisfying journey. In addition to aesthetically pleasing scenery, multiple photographic possibilities, and the opportunity to learn from two professionals, my fellow photographers were just marvelous; enthusiastic, friendly, engaging, and supportive. I feel like I found 10 new friends.

Harvest Moon of the Equinox

The full moon that occurs closest to the Autumnal Equinox is the yearly Harvest Moon. In theory, farmers are able to stay out in the fields and continue harvesting by the light of the moon. This month was a special Harvest Moon because it occurred on the night of the equinox, something that hasn't happened since 1991 (and won't happen again until 2029). I usually like to get the moon as big as possible (like the shot above) by using a long lens, but this month I also used a wider lens to include this pumpkin patch that was ready for harvest. I am very please with this true harvest moon shot. Click on a photo to see a larger view.

Then I changed back to the big lens to
isolate a big moon in the night sky.

Insanity is typically associated with full moons and I can understand why. I sat out in the middle of a pumpkin field until after dark just to take a picture. I admit it. I'm a lunatic.

Return to Kansas

This was my third trip to Kansas in the past twelve months. In August it was so hot and humid I hardly ventured outside. Six weeks later and everything had changed. The corn was dry and ready to harvest, and the air was cool. On my previous trip, my camera gear was so heavy and cumbersome that I decided to travel light this time. I took a Panasonic compact camera. That was it: no extra lenses or filters, or tripod. This meant no serious photography, but overall I was pleased with the pictures. Click on any photo to see a larger image. Kansas is the "Sunflower State." They grow wild along the edges of corn fields and are considered weeds by the farmers. Catching the butterflies was a serendipitous addition to this photo.

The Amelia Earhart Bridge which spans
the Missouri River in Atchison.

I was in Kansas to spend time with my aunt, and this time I was not alone. My sister Judy and I spent the week together, taking my aunt out to lunch, and hanging out in Troy, the small farming town in which my father and aunt grew up. We experienced an amazing electrical storm that put on a brilliant and scary light show. There was so much lightening it seemed like we were surrounded by strobe lights. The thunder was constant. When a power pole down the road was hit, spewed green sparks, and knocked out the power, we ran inside. No photos of this storm. This is Judy in my aunt's new apartment.

Aunt Whee's cat, Trudy

This link will take you to photos from my previous Kansas trip:
http://visual-journey.blogspot.com/2010/08/theres-no-place-like-home.html

Starry, Starry Night

Within the photography club, I started a Night Photography Focus Group. We met for the first time on Wednesday and immediately planned our first night shoot for Saturday at Fremont Peak. (If you follow my blog, you may remember that back in April, I climbed to the very top of Fremont Peak with Noella. http://visual-journey.blogspot.com/2010/04/ascent-od-fremonts-peak.html) No climbing or hiking on this trip. We timed our arrival to photograph the setting sun before heading up to the observatory. Normally flares are to be avoided in photos, but they enhanced this one by making the sun look like it was smashing into the horizon.Actually, a thick shroud of fog prevented us from even seeing the horizon.

The edge of the parking lot was lined with photographers, sightseers, and amateur astronomers. As I was walking away toward the observatory, I glanced back, saw these silhouettes, pulled out my camera, and took this hand-held shot.

We had to wait awhile for the sky to darken, and found that even though it was a moonless night, the lights from Gilroy, Morgan Hill and San Jose kept the horizon brightly lit. If you click on this photo, you will see the bottom three stars of the Big Dipper.

The Big Dipper is not a constellation. It is an asterism (a pattern of stars) within the Ursa Major Constellation. Click on the photos to see the stars.

The stars of the Big Dipper are often used to point the way toward other constellations. The two stars at the bottom of the bowl point to the North Star (Polaris), which is the last star in the handle of the Little Dipper. I was very pleased to get both dippers in one photo.

Fortunately, others in our group have photographed the Milky Way and shared their techniques. Capturing our own galaxy in a photograph was a stellar moment for me.This was one of the most fun shoot-outs I've been on. I have mentioned in previous blogs how much I enjoy being out after dark. Others must have felt the same because several of the group seemed loath to leave. After four hours of photographing the stars, we started playing with our red lights. (In order to preserve everyone's night vision, only red lights are allowed.) This is a 30 second exposure of Lance painting the dark.

I am second from the left.
You can see more photos from this night on my Flickr stream:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/suebrazelton/