Road Trips Archives ~ Page 2 of 7 ~ Rambling ranger

December 9, 2022

Photographing Fall Colors During Fire Season in the North Cascades

When I first arrived in Washington State this October I had plans to travel through the North Cascades, taking pictures of fall colors. It was a somewhat disappointing journey, but not a total loss.

Although there were a few bright spots, it was disappointing for two reasons: one, due to the continued warm temperatures caused by global climate change, very few colors were actually changing, and most importantly, two, for that same reason it was still fire season throughout the Cascade Mountains.

North Cascades National Park — There were a few golden conifers near the top of the pass.

Highway 20

And the smoke was thick. It didn’t seem too bad down in the Skagit Valley one day, so I took a road trip up Highway 20 through North Cascades National Park.

That was a waste of a tank of gas. All the waterfalls were dried up by the ongoing drought. By the time I got to Ross Lake, the smoke was so thick that visibility was close to zero. I couldn’t even see the lake when I crossed the bridge right over it! My original plan had been to take 2 or 3 days and camp at Colonial Creek, the lovely campground situated in the old-growth forest right next to the lake. When I arrived, the smell of smoke was thick, but the air was even thicker. I couldn’t breathe, my eyes burned and instantly I got a screaming headache.

Well, that wasn’t happening! I thought about turning back, but it was still early in the afternoon. Maybe I could get up above the smoke, or maybe it would be better on the other side of the mountains. I really, really wanted to shoot a few scenes with larch trees, those conifers that turn gold with the seasons. Growing up in Colorado where all the conifers are evergreens, larch trees seem kind of magical to me. Since their main habitat is on the eastern side of these mountains, I didn’t want to give up without finding a few.

It did get better – a little. The big scenic vistas were still out – too much haze. But I found a few larch trees – very few. Most of them hadn’t changed color yet.

Mt. Baker Highway

I had a bit better luck further north on the Mt. Baker Highway. I tried to stay low at first – the skies were hazy, and there were plenty of nice spots along the river to walk and photograph. There were even a few waterfalls.

But I couldn’t stop myself. I kept going. I needed to get above treeline and check out the alpine. I’m glad I did. The fall colors up there were phenomenal!

Fall Colors Mt. Baker Scenic Byway — I found a few fall colors!

Yes, the haze was bad. I was above the Mt. Baker Ski Area and I couldn’t even find Mt. Baker! But there are a couple of good things about making photographs in fire season.

I’ve always loved those silhouetted images of ridge upon ridge, outlined against the sky, going on forever. I’ve had my best luck capturing that kind of image in the desert at sunrise or sunset. But during fire season, you can catch that shot in the middle of the day!

And then there are the sunsets. All that particulate matter in the air can lead to some spectacular sunsets. Mt. Baker even showed up right before sunset. It was just an outline. I couldn’t even tell it was glacier covered and all white. But it was there.

We stayed for the moonrise. Although the moonrise was incredible, even better than the moon was the planet Jupiter. As night fell, in concert with the moonrise, Jupiter came up right over the top of Mt. Shuksan, crowning the mountain like the star on the top of a Christmas tree, leading to a very memorable evening.

Thank you to Patti Moed for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge, Diagonals.

November 30, 2022

My Favorite Places

This week I’d like to share with you all some of my favorite places, ones I will miss this winter as I practice The Middle Way on Orcas Island. This week’s Lens-Artist’s Photo Challenge is Home Sweet Home. Tina Schell of Travels and Trifles asks us, ” If a foreigner were to spend a week or a month traveling your home country with you, where would you take them? What sights would you tell them to be sure to see? Where have you found some of your own favorite images? What is it you truly love about where you live, or places you’ve seen in your home country? ”

Southern Colorado — First snow in the Colorado mountains

Well, they would need at LEAST a month for all MY favorite places. Although I grew up in Colorado and now live in Alaska, I feel at home throughout the West. I’ll start with Colorado. I was raised in Colorado, and lived there for many, many years after I went out on my own. It’s probably where I’ll end up when I get too old to live deep in the wilderness in Alaska. My family is there. Colorado is always close to my heart.

Although I’m at home throughout the West, I do have a few favorite places that I try to visit whenever I have the chance. One is the Colorado Plateau. This region covers big chunks of 4 different states: Colorado, New Mexico, Utah and Arizona. I can’t narrow my favorite down to just one or two places in this area, it’s all so amazing. My advice to a foreign visitor might be to check out a few places that are not as well-known as iconic parks like Arches and Zion. Although I love them, too, they ARE getting loved to death and it might be good to try to spread that impact out a little. Lesser-known places such as Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument and Petrified Forest National Park contain wonders, too.

Another favorite place is Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge in central New Mexico. This is the best place I’ve ever been for birds. It is the winter home for vast flocks of Snow Geese and Sandhill Cranes. Over 340 different species of birds live there. It is an incredible place to observe wildlife.

Sandhill Cranes — Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge

I spent 8 winters working as a ranger in Death Valley National Park. It is another desert that has captured my heart. The great thing about Death Valley is that because the altitude on the valley floor is so low (the lowest elevation in North America), the nights are seldom cold, even during the deepest darkest months of winter. Makes for great camping, and the rattlesnakes sleep in the winter! It’s an incredibly diverse park, with elevations ranging from below sea level to over 11,000 feet.

I did a little playing with LightRoom on this image. It was a daytime image and the background of bare dirt desert ground was a bit meh so I darkened it until it resembled the night sky, and tried to give a nighttime feel to the dunes, too. Since Death Valley is famed as a night sky park, and since one of my favorite things to do is to walk through the sand dunes under the full moon, I wanted to capture the feel of that experience in this image.

Mesquite Sand Dunes — I love to hike the sand dunes in the moonlight.

And then there’s the bloom. If there is rain in the desert, and if it is timed right, the wildflowers will rock your world. If it seems like it might be a good year for the flowers, I try to make a circuit that starts near the Mexican border in Anza-Borrego State Park, moving through Joshua Tree and Mojave National Preserve until I end up in Death Valley.

Anza-Borrego State Park — Love those desert wildflowers!

Further west on the California coast you will find another great wildlife phenomenon, the elephant seals at Piedras Blancas near San Simeon. Although you can find a few seals there at any time of year, December through February are the best months. Thousands of seals converge on the beaches, with the big strange-looking bulls battling it out for the right to own a piece of the beach, and all the females on it. The cows are birthing and raising their babies then, too. It’s an extraordinary spot to witness wildlife drama, so close you don’t even need binoculars to see it.

Piedras Blancas Elephant Seal Rookery — Sex on the Beach

From the campground at San Simeon I can walk to the beach and see some fantastic bird action on the sea stack that looms just offshore there. It’s an awesome place to catch the sunset.

Farther north along the California coast is Mendocino County. It’s my favorite part of the California Coast. I think the scenery is even more dramatic than Big Sur, and without the crowds. It’s got big trees, too.

Greenwood Beach — The beaches in Mendo are wild and uncrowded.

Speaking of big trees, I’ve really fallen in love with the tallest trees in the world, the redwoods, over the last few years.

Sometimes I go straight up the coast into Oregon. Other times I head for the Siskiyou country near Grants Pass and Williams. The trees there are incredibly graceful and beautiful and it’s my last chance to see wildflowers as I head north.

Pacifica — Oregon has some incredible trees!

But no matter which way I go, I try to hit the coast at Bandon. It is so much fun to shoot the sea stacks there!

The Olympic Peninsula is my next favorite place. The old-growth forests redefine green and the wild beaches are phenomenal.

Olympic National Park — Ferns and feathers

And then there’s Alaska. It’s where my heart is, my community, my job, my life. My first love in Alaska was Denali National Park and I try to go there whenever I get a chance.

But home is McCarthy, in Wrangell-St. Elias National Park. I truly believe it’s the most spectacular place in North America. Case in point – check out my daily commute! And the feature image was taken while I was standing on my front porch! It doesn’t get much better than this.

I hope you’ve enjoyed some of my favorite places. As Jim Morrison of the Doors said, the West is the best!

February 26, 2022

Pacific Coast Sunsets

It’s a good year to miss winter in Alaska. The snow started early, on the last day of summer. I wasn’t lucky enough to miss that storm. It complicated my travel plans. It took me a couple of extra days to close everything up on the homestead and get out of town.

Then the snow took a brief hiatus, making way for the extreme cold. It was 40 below for weeks at a time in McCarthy, even dipping down to -60. The coldest I had ever seen was 53 below. Glad I missed the cold spell.

See what I mean about a good winter to miss? It was just getting started.

It’s been snowing back home. And snowing, and snowing….. more snow than anyone can remember ever falling in McCarthy. Buildings are buried. And it’s still February. March is usually the snowiest month. Yikes!

California sunsets — Sunset in Pacific Grove

Which makes me super grateful for where I am spending the winter, further south on the Pacific Coast. I have really been enjoying those Pacific Coast sunsets.

I spent January at a housesit in Anacortes, Washington. The weather was generally dark, drab and dreary, with snow, rain or fog practically every day. My SAD syndrome kicked in, but I kept reminding myself about what the weather was like back home and felt pretty thankful to be someplace safe and warm where I could avoid driving on those occasions when the streets were icy.

Deception Pass State Park — Sunset at Rosario Beach near Anacortes, Washington

The day before I left, I did have one nice sunset.

Then my luck changed. I had clear weather for 3 days in Olympic National Park! What a rare and wonderful occurrence! The skies continued to stay mostly clear as I traveled down the coast to my February housesit, in Pacific Grove, California.

Mostly clear, except every night as I passed through Oregon there was a thin band of fog on the western horizon in otherwise cloudless skies, effectively extinguishing any hints of color from the setting sun. I’ve included a photo from an Oregon sunset I took on another trip, so you can see the potential and understand my disappointment when things looked so hopeful each evening but didn’t pan out.

Skies have been clear almost every night here in California. There has only been one day with any precipitation at all. It was just a sprinkle, but I was able to capture some fabulous God rays between storms. Check out the feature shot and you’ll see what I mean.

I feel a little like Goldilocks and the three bears. Although I am grateful for all these beautiful sunsets, we could use some rain. Although there’s too much snow in McCarthy, the drought in the West is severe. According to dendrochronology, the science of interpreting past climate through tree rings, in some places it’s the worst drought in over 1500 years. So I pray for rain, and hope that if it comes, it also brings big waves, god rays and rainbows.

Pacific Grove, California — Praying for rain and big waves

Thanks to Anne for this week’s Lens-Artists Challenge, Water.

Kalaloch Sunset — Fishing boat off the Washington coast

January 21, 2022

Strange Sights on Desert Highways

It’s a long way between towns in the desert, and sometimes the road seems endless and lonely. I love those far lonely drives, so I wouldn’t call it monotonous, but I do have to admit that there are big stretches where nothing especially stands out.

It seems that when there is a lack of natural landmarks, people feel compelled to fill in the blanks. Occasionally strange, off-the-wall objects spark up the view in those empty miles. I decided to write about a few of them for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge: Interesting Objects.

Highway 60 in New Mexico is one of those highways. Towns are 20, 30, 40 miles apart. And when you do reach a town, don’t blink or you’ll miss it. But there are a few things out there that can shake you out of your highway trance.

One is the Very Large Array, a couple of miles east of Datil. It’s a radio telescope facility. Astronomers use radio waves to capture light in other spectrums and waves besides visible light, giving them a much more complete picture of what’s out there in the Universe than we could see if we just used visual information. The landscape is littered with humongous dish antennas, set out in a long, long line as far as you can see on either side of the highway.

Highway 60, New Mexico — Rural Outdoor Art

A little farther west I came upon this interesting collection of windmills. There were a couple of mannequins included in the display, I guess to give a sense of scale.

Catron County is popular with hunters. In the town of Quemado, I found a Christmas tree made out of deer antlers.

When I drove through Arizona this year, it felt more like the Wild West than it ever had before. I’ve driven through the state many times, but never before have I seen so many signs and storefronts offering guns for sale. I live in Alaska, a state where most households own firearms, so I understand folks exercising their right to bear arms, but this year in Arizona it was over the top. It seemed a bit hysterical. I believe those folks are convinced Armageddon is coming. Or they want to help bring it on. In Wikieup, I guess maybe guns are not enough. They’ve got rockets!

Wikieup, AZ — Arizona likes its weapons.

One of the loneliest stretches of highway out there is California Highway 62, between Joshua Tree and the Arizona border. Suddenly, in the loneliest bleakest part of the road, you come to a few burnt-out foundations and crumbling walls surrounded by a broken-down barbwire fence. The fenceposts are decorated with sneakers, thousands of them. They’re mostly sneakers, but there are a few other shoes and gloves included in this bizarre display. Why did this site become the West’s athletic shoe graveyard? I have no idea.

Highway 62 CA — Another rural art installation. This one is anonymous and interactive, kind of like graffitti.

These are only a few of the many strange and interesting objects to be found along those lonely desert highways. Maybe you have a favorite that I haven’t mentioned. Share it with us in the comments.

Thank you, Patti, for hosting this week’s photo challenge.

April 23, 2021

Migration

Not all birds leave Alaska in the winter. Some birds are tough and hardy and stick it out. Some just endure the winter, others adapt. Their very physiology changes to help them contend with the cold a little better.

Spruce Grouse — Some birds stick it out all year long.

I wanted to be like them and adapt when I stayed up here this year. I wanted to adapt but I found that I just endured. I’m more like most birds.

Most birds have decided that the best way to deal with winter is to avoid it. They migrate. I like that lifestyle. I can relate. So I am delighted that it is finally migration time.

It’s migration time in Alaska, and we’re all very excited to see our old friends coming back. Swans are everywhere, with reports coming in from friends in Anchorage, Fairbanks and McCarthy. Sandhill cranes are in Fairbanks, although our local Palmer flock hasn’t shown up quite yet. Any day now, though. Maybe when I go out to shoot the sunset this evening they will have arrived. One can hope!

Here in Palmer a huge mixed flock of Snow Geese and Canadian Geese was spotted in a farmer’s field, flushed by a passing eagle. The birds are flying north, more every day. Ducks are landing in ponds the minute the ice melts. It’s a birdwatcher’s dream all over Alaska, but there is one place in particular that will surely transport you to birder nirvana.

That place is Cordova. The fishing village of Cordova is the gateway to the vast and pristine Copper River Delta, one of the greatest wetland ecosystems in North America. Ninety percent of the birds migrating along the Pacific Flyway stop here, in the largest wetlands on the entire route. It’s a staging area, spring break for the birds traveling to their summer homes in Alaska from their winter abodes in places as far away as the tip of South America.

Moss Landing — Spring break for migrating birds!

Nearly 5 million shorebirds depend on the Delta to rest and recharge. At high tide on the mudflats at Hartney Bay, endless flocks of sandpipers and dunlins perform an intricate aerial ballet. Look closer and you’ll find dozens of other species. Thirty-six different shorebird species, including the entire North American population of Western Sandpipers, inhabit the shoreline, in terrain varying from silty mudflats to rocky beaches.

And that’s just the beach. The marshes in the Delta are as fertile as the shoreline. Standing on the boardwalk at Alaganik Slough, an overwhelming cacophony of sound will greet you, the mating songs of a thousand birds reverberating through the twilight. The only thing louder than the trumpeting of the swans is the crazy braying of Dusky Canadian Geese. But the strange and eerie sound of a snipe performing its’ corkscrew skydive mating dance is the command performance in this incredible bird opera.

Immature eagle — Cordova has lots of eagles, too!

I was lucky enough to catch that show not once, but twice. But it’s been twenty years. I was hoping to make it back this spring, but Cordova is a bit off the beaten path.

Budget cuts to the Alaska Marine Highway have eliminated ferry service to Cordova outside of peak tourist season, so the only way in now is to fly. Cordova won’t be happening for me this year after all.

But I still want to take a birding trip to celebrate the transition from winter to summer. I need a spring break. I’m thinking about spending a few days at the end of another road, in the little town of Homer.

Homer doesn’t have as many birds as Cordova. Cordova is in a class by itself. But Homer has some great migrations passing through, too. And some of the birds are different. Homer is a lot farther west. I might even see a bird I’ve never seen before.

After that spring break, it will probably be time for me to take flight too, moving from the Matanuska Valley to the Wrangell Mountains and my home in McCarthy. I’ll wait for the snow and ice to melt, then follow those migrating birds, and greet them in the ponds along the way.

Trumpeter Swans — I’ll greet old friends at the ponds along the way.

It will be great to see all my old friends, both human and avian, both the tough hardy ones that stick it out through the long cold and the ones who migrate.

Pine Grosbeak — One of my tough hardy friends, who gets by with a little help from his friends my neighbors

Thank you, Tina, for this week’s Lens-Artist’s Photo Challenge, Taking Flight. It’s migration time. I’m so excited!

April 16, 2021

(Wishing For) The Colors of April

April is not a very colorful month in Alaska. It’s Breakup, that weird season in between winter and spring, and frankly, breakup is messy and not so attractive. Morning ice skating rinks give way to afternoon mud bogs and slush piles . Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. Postholing through the unevenly melting snowpack is tiring and tedious. The predominant colors are brown, gray, white, and dead grass yellow. The only pastel is the sky on the occasional sunny day when it’s not raining, sleeting or snowing.

Even so, we’re all celebrating. The thermometer actually rises above freezing and soon, soon, soon the snow will be gone and summer will be here. Already the days are long and the twilight lingers.

But I miss color. I miss my wildflowers. Although I’ve spent a lot of winters in Alaska in the past, for over a dozen years I’ve been snowbirding it, heading south to the desert or the West Coast for the winter. It’s a lifestyle I love.

Briceberg River Road — My favorite Sierra campground along the Merced River.

Last year at this time I was in lockdown in Las Vegas, one of the most surreal experiences of my life. The colors of April, found in the wastelands on the outskirts of town, were my salvation during this insane interlude.

Prickly Poppy — Wildflowers from the Vegas Wastelands

Purple Mat — Wildflowers from the Vegas Wastelands

Most years, though, I spend the month of March immersed in the wildflowers of the California desert. Then as the flowers move up in elevation in April, I follow along, chasing the bloom.

April is also the month that the cactus are in bloom.

By the middle of the month, heat and wind begin to take their toll on the flowers, and on me. It’s time to go North, time to go home, following the flowers.

My new favorite place to begin this journey is Carrizo Plain National Monument. The flowers grow thicker here than anywhere else I’ve ever been. It’s something to ponder, that the entire Central Valley once looked like this.

Carrizo Plains National Monument — Camping in Carrizo

From there I move on, hopscotching my way along the Sierra’s western foothills, following the path of the Gold Rush on the trail of Highway 49, with a drive through the Yosemite valley along the way.

I’ll head west to the redwoods in Mendocino County and enjoy that other color of April, green, for a day or two on my way to Oregon.

I might visit friends in southern Oregon in the Grant’s Pass area, an April wildflower delight indeed.

From there, time and flowers are both getting scarce. I’ve still got a few days to enjoy the coast on my way to Canada. It’s breakup in Canada, too, though, so I bomb through and reach Alaska right at the end of April – just in time for the first Pasque flowers of the season.

Thank you, Amy for this week’s Lens-Artist’s Photo Challenge – the Colors of April. You’ve made me really miss my spring flowers!

Category: Road Trips

Photographing Fall Colors During Fire Season in the North Cascades

Highway 20

Mt. Baker Highway

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My Favorite Places

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Pacific Coast Sunsets

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Strange Sights on Desert Highways

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Migration

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(Wishing For) The Colors of April

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Highway 20

Mt. Baker Highway

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