Taking in the Moonlight

I love the mountains and being a long way away from civilization. So even though I was around a small town in July of 2005, it was just about as far from civilization I could get. I was standing outside a little school house in rural Salta, Argentina. There was a little electricity, but I think it amounted to powering 4 incandescent bulbs in the entire town, all of which resided in the tiny school house. So even though there was electricity, I don't remember there being an electric hum.

It was in this silence that I was looking out at the mountains with a full moon in the sky. Without a need for a flashlight, I walked around outside and took in a southern hemisphere sky, which contained stars I had never seen from my northern hemisphere home.

Staring at the sky, I set up my camera on a pocket-sized tripod. And after trying out a few different exposures and ISOs, I felt like I had the image I was looking for. After a few more moments of silence, I packed up my meager camera equipment and headed back inside to sleep on the tile, school floor. The image that follows is what came from my moonlight photography.

29 mm, f/4.0, 30 sec
The Argentine Night Sky, Salta, Argentina

Mountain Gazing

The following photo, besides being found here on my blog, can be found resting in a frame on top of my brother and his wife's television in their living room. It was a wedding gift from me to them. It wasn't entirely a surprise because they had told me they wanted some of my photography, so I printed a few of my favorite photos and put one in the frame. So there it sits, reminding me of a road trip and the vast distance between me and those mountains.

When my friends and I started road tripping during college, I had half seriously/half jokingly thrown out the idea of driving to all 49 driveable states. So during our first road trip freshman year, the idea was somewhat laughable. But as college progressed and we drove to more and more states, the idea became a possibility and then a reality.

In setting out for our final voyage, we had already seen a lot up until that point. El Capitan in the midst of a snow-covered Yosemite, the giant Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, and our nation's capital building in Washington, DC. But I don't think we really knew what to expect on our final drive up north. We had no idea about the moose, buffalo and bighorn sheep who grazed alongside the highway as if watch passing cars was watching their favorite primetime show. And we certainly didn't know about the constant and casual appearance of no-name mountains that would garnish well-known names if they were in the lower 48.

I guess that is what makes this photo so impressive to me. It wasn't a well known mountain. And even though it is quite majestic and noteworthy, as far as I know it doesn't even have a name. It is just another one of the many striking, precipices along the route to the great white north. I have to admit that while taking that last college journey, I found myself gazing absentmindedly at the mountains we drove through. They captivated my attention even when I didn't know it. It was in those moments that I wondered whether or not those who lived there even noticed them anymore. Had they become desensitized to the grandeur out their back door, or did they catch themselves gazing in wonder at them the way I did?

I love Ansel Adams and I guess this photo is my small tribute to his influence on my nature photography. Though he has left an indelible mark on my photos, I actually took this from the inside of our van as we were driving 70 mph down the road. I think he would heartily disapprove. And who knows how much better the shot could have been if I simply had gotten out of the van. Que sera, sera. I guess that's what you get when you road trip in fast forward.

No-Name Mountain, Yukon, Canada

A Morning With My Dad On the Mountain

The day before, the whole family had decided to get up early to try and spot wildlife. We were awake before sunrise and set our sights on Bear Lake inside Rocky Mountain National Park. It was great to get up there before the crowds flooded the paths and cluttered the otherwise pristine landscape. But in the end, we did not spot any wildlife. Everyone was a little disappointed, but spirits were still high and we all enjoyed ourselves. In our hurry to get to the lake, we had passed up photo opportunities of incredible views in the emerging sunlight. So my dad and I decided it would be worth another pre-dawn excursion to catch these images we missed the first morning.

Alone in our enthusiasm, we hopped in the van the next morning, while the rest of the crew continued to slumber. We set off with a specific picture in mind. There was a valley on our side of the mountain that would be perfect as the sun rose just behind it. After reaching our destination and snapping as many pictures as we could rattle off in the the rapidly brightening scene, we realized we were plenty awake and already halfway toward the other side of the mountain. So we took the opportunity to travel over Trail Ridge Road, into the western half of the park. We wanted to try and spot any moose that might be lingering around the marshy area outside Grand Lake, CO. And even if we did not see any moose, we figured breakfast would be a great consolation prize.

While driving over the mountains, a large group of elk distracted us for a short while. Being up so early, traffic was slow and we were able to take our leisure in admiring the landscape and the elk herd. The photo that follows is a picture of my dad taking a picture of the elk. In the background you can see the mountains, almost eye level to us.

I know that the picture below will not win any photo contests and there is nothing extremely striking about the scene, but it is still special none the less. You see, to me it is not just a man sitting by the side of the road taking a picture. To me it is a reminder of a morning spent exploring with my dad. In this picture, I see a man who, like myself, was enjoying the morning sun, the solitude of nature, and the joy of capturing the landscape and moment around us. My dad and I are alike in many ways, as is evidenced by the fact that we were the only ones willing to sacrifice sleep to look at the mountains. And that morning was a time of sharing in the experience as much as anything else. These times have become more important as of late because they are actually soon going to be very rare. In the not too distant future, my wife and I will be moving out of the country for several years. We won't be making any trips to see family over Christmas or Thanksgiving. No extended weekend trips for family get togethers. And simple memories like a morning drive over a mountain and searching for moose will be much more precious than others might be able to understand.

Dad on the Mountain Top, Trail Ridge Road, Rocky Mountain National Park