Fine Art Photography Blog

An easy hike is a double-edged sword; being in nature isn’t really “getting away” if the trail is as densely populated as New York. Talapus is close enough to Seattle, and easy enough, that the US Forest Service web page warns “This area offers little privacy or seclusion due to overuse.”

Snow changes everything, and, this year, the highlands have no shortage of snow. The only hints of winter are above, on the surrounding peaks. It isn’t until halfway up the mountainside that patches of snow start to appear, at first isolated from one another, then more and more often, until the ground is covered in white. At first it’s shallow enough, but soon it becomes impossible to tell; with nothing exposed to provide a frame of reference, the snow could be inches, feet, or miles deep.

About the point where the trail begins to climb switchbacks up the mountain side, a blanket of snow hides the path completely. This is where most hikers turn back. It’s a difficult climb when the ground is slick and the trail is lost completely. Still, it isn’t long before the hill levels off, forming a plateau which leads to the stream forming waterfalls.

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We’ve been treated to especially disjointed weather lately in the Emerald City. Last Friday saw big snow-flakes falling downtown for several hours in a late March storm more appropriate to Colorado than the ocean-side Pacific Northwest. We’ve enjoyed freakishly benign weather ( “that yellow thing in the sky” ) up until last week, and on clear days, both mountain ranges have sported receding snow lines.

The Cascade Range divides eastern and western Washington / Oregon, and the northern edge of California. To the west is a lush valley, while a vast desert lies to the east. Dividing these eco-systems, the spine of the mountains cuts upward, breaking up the path of the clouds overhead, getting many of them to spill their water earthward.

This divide creates an unpredictable series of micro-climates. A storm can be profoundly violent in one area and open up like an eye in others. Above, wide swatches of blue shine through, while below we see thick fog hugging the mountainside while sleet falls on the trees.

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“It’s god-awful country,” the officer said, recommending that I avoid US 287 across Wyoming from Rawlins to Moran Junction. He was right. I had flown to Connecticut, where I grew up, bought a used car, and was driving it home to California; a member of the local highway patrol wanted to make sure my [paper] temporary plate was legitimate. After our ad hoc meeting, I confirmed that the road to Grand Teton is indeed long, sun parched and wind swept high desert.

Yellowstone itself is an oasis, rising up on the back of the Rocky Mountains to pull moisture out of the air, and teeming with life because of it. Sitting on a now-protected crest of the continental divide, the park is known the world over for its wildlife, although the photo doesn’t show any endangered species. In the surrounding hills and meadows live bison, elk, bighorn sheep, black and grizzly bears, eagles, and more.

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It’s a 700 vertical-foot climb to the top of Multnomah Falls; about a mile and a quarter each way, mostly over switchbacks. Being a fairly easy hike and only 30 miles from Portland, the challenge isn’t getting to the top, it’s fighting the crowd. Even in the dead of winter, with snow lying next to the upper trail, there will invariably be thousands of people enjoying the great outdoors.

Much of the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area has a straightforward history, the type you might hear about in a nature documentary. The Cascade Range of volcanoes - Mount Hood and Mount Adams, both dormant, both visible from the river, could erupt during the 21st century, geologists tell us - began to push upwards a million years ago, and the mighty river carved a deep gorge through them. Incredibly, this is the only passage through the mountains that stays near sea-level. A series of floods ensued; the present day Bridge of the Gods is build on the site of a landslide that dammed the river, creating a lake that may have stretched as far as Idaho.

But the waterfall has a far different history. Read the rest of this entry »

Aptly named, Paradise is an outpost of civilization in southwestern Mount Ranier National Park. More than a mile - 5,400 feet - above nearby sea level, our destination is every bit the sub-alpine wonderland its name implies. A valley of meadows teaming with wildflowers, lakes, and backing up to the foot of a glacier, the place is easy to fall in love with.

Unsurprisingly, Paradise is the most visited section of the Mount Rainier whose boundaries as a national park cover 1/3 the area of Rhode Island. During the summer - which can be short and unpredictable in the high country - Paradise is impossibly crowded. Much like Yosemite. Route 706 from the Nisqually entrance is kept open to the Paradise Lodge through the winter, but requires four wheel drive or chains - sometimes both. Difficult but accessible is a good combination.

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Sitting in the northwestern-most corner of the continental United States, Olympic National Park is a vast swatch of pristine wilderness across the Sound from Seattle. The park itself occupies much but not all of the peninsula, generally surrounded by national forest, rivers, sloughs, and archipelago.

Half the reason I moved to Seattle was these mountains, and as beautiful as they are from a distance, I had been waiting too long to actually hike here.

Crescent Lake

Like Glacier’s Lake McDonald, Crescent Lake is a nearly endless pool bound in by mountains at the edge of a national park. Roadside along US 101, the seemingly endless aquifer is easily accessible to anyone intrepid enough to venture this far.

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Like the Siberian Highway, travel through America’s trans-continental freeways is subject to approval from the weather. This weights heavy on our minds given the recent flooding along I-5 and the official state of emergency that ensued. Of course this has been a tragic, highly unusual storm; ordinarily the mountain roads can be treacherous, but far more predictable.

To Seattlites, Snoqualmie Pass and the Mountains to Sound Greenway can easily become old hat. Taking a step back, though, there are few similarly breathtaking freeway landscapes in the continental United States. Donner Pass is another example, crossing through the Sierra Nevada at more than 7,000 feet.

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Last week, for Thanksgiving, I went down to The Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area, a roughly 75 mile stretch of water and land reaching up toward the heavens. The river begins in Montana’s Rockies, at Triple Divide Peak, along the Backbone of the World, or, in less poetic terms, the Continental Divide. The Snake River heads south, through Idaho, while the Columbia traverses Washington State, a desert river for most of its path, until it finally crosses the Cascade Mountain Range.

The mountains quite literally form islands in the sky, creating an oasis in the desert pulling moisture out of the clouds. Multnomah Falls is America’s second tallest year-round waterfall; half an hour to the east, The Dalles stands with one foot in the desert. Micro-climates are readily apparent here - driving west you’ll see sagebrush slowly give way to ferns and peat moss.

While superlatives like the second tallest sound impressive, The Gorge is known for the countless tributaries rushing down cliffs and the sides of mountains to join the Columbia on its way to the sea.

Benson Bridge, above and to the right, lets visitors see the plumage up close. Trails lead for miles in both directions, guiding hikers between parks, waterfalls, and camp grounds, forming a network much like Big Sur. Read the rest of this entry »

The mountains that hold up the sky above the Columbia River are beginning the long, sluggish process of donning their winter coats. Mount Hood, true to its image, looks like a gargantuan tepee covered in what could well be permafrost. Other peaks are dusted in white along the tops of their ridges, growing large snowfields for the season, but less stark than Hood’s glaciated peak.

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Something doesn’t have to be big to be compelling. A friend of mine who didn’t know much or anything about photography tried an old camera I used to have with a mega-zoom lens, and described the wide angle as a “grand view.” We’re taught to think in terms of sea to shining sea, of a big sky that stretches from one end of the horizon to the other, as far as the eye can see. This doesn’t always have to be the case.

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