Storm Clouds Over Green River Overlook, Utah

I find the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands National Park to be quite difficult to photograph well.  It’s easy to make compelling photographs in Arches National Park on a cloudless, blue sky day but those same conditions at the Island usually result in rather bland images.  The one exception is Mesa Arch at sunrise which relies on warm, reflected light for dynamic image making conditions – easy to do even without a cloud in the sky.  Optimal conditions exist when storms are developing or dispersing during the golden hour after sunrise or before sunset.  Ominous clouds overhead with storm light strafing the canyon below creates conditions most any landscape photographer would be thrilled to photograph.  Unfortunately, it just isn’t all that common.

I’ve lived in Moab for almost five years.  In that time I’ve visited Green River Overlook countless times when it seemed conditions might be just right to make the image I’d visualized.  Each and every time I got skunked.  The clouds would either dissipate too early or they would form a blanket of gray overcast that left the light boring and flat.  However, as in most things in life, persistence does eventually pay off.

On the evening I made this photograph I was assisting at a photo workshop.  My job consisted mainly of helping the leader select the right locations for each shoot, leaving me free to run around and photograph once we were on site.  The day had been stormy and our sunrise shoot was a complete bust.  When I started seeing shafts of light breaking through the clouds as our afternoon session drew closer I decided that we should head up to the Island.  The workshop leader agreed and off we went.

The entire group was awed by the view at Green River Overlook even before the light show began.  It’s difficult not to be when you stand at the edge of the canyon rim, gazing at the White Rim below, the Green River snaking through the mid-ground and the Henry Mountains far off in the distance by Capitol Reef National Park.  Minutes before sunset, the conditions I’d hoped for quickly appeared.  I had already framed a composition and left my camera mounted on the tripod just in case, because I suspected the light wouldn’t last long.  We had only a couple minutes to work with these amazing conditions before the sun disappeared below the horizon.  After four years and dozens of failed efforts, I’d finally realized my vision.

I’ve got a few more local spots I’ll keep visiting until all the right conditions come together to bless me with a crazy dynamic image.  Some are well known (False Kiva, anyone?) and others are rarely visited.  Who knows, maybe in 2021 one of them will be on my “Best of the Decade” list right here on the ol’ blog.  Be sure to check back.

Check out “My Favorite Photos of the Decade – Part Seven” here

I’m in the early stages of planning a possible four day whitewater rafting and photography workshop trip through Cataract Canyon in Canyonlands National Park to take place in May or June, 2011.  The trip would include all meals, guided boats, tents, etc. plus all the usual photo workshop stuff, i.e. instruction in the field, sunrise/sunset shoots, image critiques.  We’d also do some day hikes to interesting Native American ruins within some truly stunning side canyons.  At the conclusion of the trip we’d fly over Canyonlands en route back to Moab in a small plane.

At this point I’m just trying to gauge interest in the trip.  Pricing isn’t firm yet but will most likely be in the neighborhood of $2,500/person, all-inclusive.  This would be an awesome opportunity for a full-immersion experience that will require some degree of fitness and will provide you with opportunities to make images in a remote desert wilderness not often photographed from river level.  Cliche as it may sound, this is a once in a lifetime type trip.

I’m interested in hearing your thoughts and comments about this kind of trip.  Is the approximate price of $2,500/person fair?  What questions and concerns would you have?  What would you expect to get out of it?  Is this something you would be seriously interested in?  Please take a moment to leave a comment!

Here’s a quick follow-up to my last post about the wildflower conditions around Moab.  No iPhone pics this time, though.  These images were all made within the last 3 days on my Canon 5D2 and are representative of the current conditions.  In short, lots of rough mules ear, paintbrush, lupine, sego lillies, daisies (both yellow and purple), penstemon, prince’s plume, desert primrose, globemallow and more.  Now is a very good time to visit the Moab area if wildflowers are your thing.

Here’s some motivation, if you need it:

Bad light is a figment of your imagination.  Seriously.  It just doesn’t exist.  There is only light, and what we choose to do with it is what separates good photographers from grumpy photographers.

Here’s an example to illustrate my rather bold statement.  Let’s say you’re visiting Moab and you’re stoked to photograph Mesa Arch with the trademark neon red glow on the underside of the arch.  You awake on the morning of your shoot only to find the sky filled with dull, gray clouds.  Nevertheless, you’re an intrepid photographer with eternal optimism so you head out the door with camera and tripod in hand.  On the drive out of Moab it starts to rain.  As you climb the switchbacks that deliver you to the top of the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands the rain turns to snow.  It’s late April and it shouldn’t be snowing but there it is falling all around you.  It isn’t snowing hard enough to cover the ground but some of the vegetation is holding snow.  Arriving at the Mesa Arch trailhead you are thrilled to discover that yours is the only car in the parking lot.  With a headlamp strapped to your noggin you make the short hike to the arch.  There you set up your tripod and wait, confident that the clouds will part and warm light will erupt from the sky.  But it never does.  Minutes pass and soon the landscape around you is illuminated in low contrast, diffused light filtering through thick clouds.  It’s obvious that the only glow this morning will be from your red face as your temper flares.  Bad light?  Think again.

You obviously aren’t going home with the photo you intended to make.  No spectacular sunrise light, no red glow.  Switch gears and let the creative juices flow and you might just find a unique, intimate photo.  Overcast light eliminates harsh shadows and allows your sensor to capture every little detail in a scene.  Use that light to photograph patterns in the sandstone or, as in this photo, a beautiful juniper tree accented with a dusting of snow.  As you walk around with an open mind and a positive attitude you start to find all kinds of interesting scenes and your memory card is soon full.  After a fulfilling morning shoot you head back into town, eager to chow on some huevos rancheros and download images to your laptop.

Your success as a nature photographer is tied to your ability to improvise and adapt.  If you’re given a glorious sunset you’d better be there to photograph mountain peaks kissed with brilliant alpenglow.  When the clouds roll in turn your attention to intimate landscapes.  If a thunderstorm develops look forward to the drama that is sure to unfold when the clouds break.  Once you learn to use the light you’re offered you’ll never have another unsuccessful photo trip.

Got some experience overcoming “bad” conditions on a photo trip?  I’d love to hear your story!  Post it in the comments section and feel free to include a link to an image that illustrates your story.

Candlestick Tower in Fog

I recently re-read a blog post written by my good friend Guy Tal, titled “Visualization (aka Postprevisualization)”. Guy is a nature photographer and writer based in the tiny town of Torrey, Utah.  Actually, it really isn’t accurate to call Guy a “nature photographer and writer”.  He is both of those things.  But his talent for both is on a level so far above that which most of us will ever reach simply calling him a “photographer and writer” may well be the understatement of the decade.  He is also one of the most humble, passionate, compassionate, articulate, giving and just downright genuine people you’ll ever meet.  I kind of hope he never reads this because if he does, he probably won’t be all that happy with me for gushing about him for all to read.  Sorry, Guy!  I’m in kind of a reflective mood so I’ll blame this entire post on that.

Guy’s post is a bit of a warranted rant on the misuse of the term “previsualization” to describe the act of  ”anticipating a finished image before making the exposure”.  (Thanks, Ansel!)  In reality this is visualization, not previsualization.  I recommend that you read Guy’s post to understand the difference.  While you’re there, pour yourself a nice cup of coffee and surf through his entire blog/journal.  You’ll find it to be an amazing literary adventure.

For two years I had an image in mind that I wanted so badly to make but it required a combination of elements that don’t exactly coincide on a daily basis.  Candlestick Tower in Canyonlands NP is a prominent sandstone tower that soars several hundred feet above the desert floor.  The image that haunted me was that of Candlestick Tower looming large above a sea of low lying clouds.  Perhaps now you can see why one can not just show up at any given time and make this image.

So, I kept it there in my tiny little mind consuming memory that likely should have been used for something else.  My wife constantly reminds me that I am forgetful.  I think it’s because I have so many future images stored in memory that other, less important things, are automatically purged.  I cycle through these images occasionally, usually at night when I’m struck with a bout of insomnia.

On Dec. 31, 2009 I awoke early and looked out the window and saw…nothing.  A beautiful, white nothing.  Thick fog encircled the building to the south and I could barely make out its outline.  I had a gut feeling that today was the day.

I quickly dressed, grabbed my camera gear, kissed my wife and son good-bye and headed out the door.  I drove through fog in the darkness as I ascended to the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands.  Once on top of the mesa the fog slowly dissipated until finally, stars shone brightly above.  Oh yes, today was in fact the day I had been waiting for.

I made it to the small, unmarked pull-out from which my favorite view of Candlestick Tower is accessed.  The temperature was 4 degrees.  I had been here before and I knew the image I wanted to create would require a long lens.  I swapped my 16-35mm lens for the 100-400mm monster, threw on my down coat, fleece hat and…gloves, where are my gloves?  Ah yes, they are at home sitting on the printer, right where I left them.  Undeterred, I opened a package of chemical hand warmers and started walking through crunchy snow to the edge of a cliff where I would set up my tripod and wait in the waning darkness.

As the sun began to rise I watched wisps of fog slip over the canyon rim, encircling me, and then disappear back into the canyon.  The handwarmers kept my fingers toasty in my pockets until the time came to trip the shutter.  Sunlight diffused through thin clouds warmed Candlestick Tower and it cast a long shadow onto the surrounding clouds.  Click.  Click, click, click.  I made several images in no more than a couple of minutes.  Some with a neutral density filter attached for a long-ish shutter speed that would smooth the slow moving fog and some without.  I knew before even seeing my images that at long last my vision had been realized, and I smiled.

I packed up my camera gear and stood in place for 15 minutes, watching the clouds ebb and flow.  Despite the cold it was a very relaxing and fulfilling moment.  I heard a car door shut and looked back to see another photographer exit his car.  It was time for me to go.

I walked back to my truck, climbed inside and started the engine.  Warm air issued from the heater.  I took a swig of tea, put the truck in drive and headed home with one less image nagging in the back of my memory.

I know I’m not the only one who has been thrilled to fulfill a creative vision through photography.  Let’s hear your story.  Be sure to post a link to the image that dogged you for weeks, months or years.

Todd Caudle and I wrapped up our Autumn Arches and Canyons workshop in Moab on Sunday.  We hosted the coolest group of photographers any workshop leaders could have asked for.  It was an absolute delight to meet and photograph with everyone, and I sincerely hope our paths will cross again.  Jim and Jillian arrived from Canmore and nearby Banff NP and Louise came all the way from Hazelton, Canada.  Arno and his sister Dottie represented the south as they left Florida and Arkansas to join us out west.  Kathryn from Boise, ID had the shortest commute, which isn’t all that short at roughly 8 hours.

Those who think of Moab as all blue skies, sunshine and warm weather might be a bit shocked after one look at the photos we all produced this weekend.  Dramatic skies, storm light and snow all combined to create the rare conditions coveted by nature photographers.  Our workshop participants awoke early for sunrises in Canyonlands where the temperature hovered in the teens.  After sunrise each morning we headed into town for breakfast at a local diner, the favorite of which was the Love Muffin.  Mmmmm…huevos rancheros!  Afternoons were spent photographing in Arches or Canyonlands, dodging intermittent rain showers and another large workshop group that seemed to be shadowing our every move.  Todd and I had a much more fun group of folks than those guys who were way too serious.  Someone needs to tell them that photography is fun!

On Saturday we spent several hours doing image critiques and discussing some basic digital darkroom techniques.  Without question, this was one of the most enjoyable aspects of the workshop for all of us.  I was humbled by the wealth of talent within our group.  We each showed several images and the group discussed each photo in depth; what works, what doesn’t and why.  Simply an awesome experience and I was truly inspired by all the amazing work that was shared.

I’d like to extend a heartfelt thank you to Arno, Dottie, Kathryn, Louise, Jim and Jillian for joining Todd and me in Moab.  I had a blast with all of you!

Here’s a view of the White Rim from Green River Overlook at sunset on Friday, Nov. 13, 2009.

Where will you be November 12 – 15, 2009?  Wouldn’t you rather be in Moab making stunning images of Arches and Canyonlands National Parks?  Todd Caudle and I only have four spots left in our “Autumn Arches & Canyons” workshop.

Visit Bret Edge Photography to learn more or to register for this exciting workshop.  See you in Moab!