Eklund Lake - Bridger Wilderness

The Jim Bridger Wilderness is one of several wilderness areas in the Wind River Range of Wyoming. This heavily glaciated range includes Gannett Peak, the highest in Wyoming. The tendency is to think of the Grand Teton as the highest, but this range to the southeast of the Tetons contains several higher peaks. This is rugged country, with huge changes in altitude and glaciers in the cirques of the highest mountains. Most of this area is above timberline, which is at about 10,400 feet above sea level at this latitude. This makes for stunning scenery, especially so near any of the glacial lakes left behind when the ice retreated during the last Ice Age. A Wyoming non-resident fishing permit runs about $14.00 a day here, but the fishing is well worth the price. Most of the area is accessible only on foot or by horseback. During our recent visit there, we met people on the trail from all over the world. All of them felt fortunate to be there and were glad the area had been set aside for wilderness use. We were able to get out just ahead of a heavy August snowstorm, but I am already planning and looking forward to our next trip back.

Rabbit Ears Pass, Colorado

Years ago, when I was about 12 years old, my parents took our family on a drive to Denver to see my cousins. From that entire trip, I remember only a few things; the Denver Zoo, the Moffat Tunnel, and Rabbit Ears Pass.Having just visited the area around Rabbit Ears Peak, I now know why I remembered this area. Late July and early August must be the perfect time to see wildflowers in full bloom. We found this meadow just off the old US Highway 40 and were taken aback by the profusion of color. This scene was not an isolated patch of flowers, but was instead a small piece of a large meadow fully in bloom. This could have been part of any botanical center across the west, but was totally wild area with no attempt at cultivation. As we hiked around the area, every meadow had it's own set of flowers playing a starring role, but every one had a show going on. We were glad we chose this time of year to visit, and look forward to returning again.

Teton Range at Sunrise

When I first started my own business, I was fortunate to be able to perform much of my work in the Jackson, Wyoming area. My customers included several in the Yellowstone and Grand Teton area. One night after working through the night at Flagg Ranch in between the two parks, I headed back towards home. Over the course of my time working in this area, I had seen some pretty amazing scenery. I had witnessed the sun coming out after an afternoon rain complete with rainbow and streaming rays of light against the backdrop of the Gros Ventre Range. I had watched magnificent eagles in their flight over the Snake River. I was able to see the sunlight glistening on freshly fallen snow with the temperature at -40' F at Half Moon Lake. But I didn't really own a very good camera then, and finances were such that even if I did, I couldn't afford the cost of developing the film. This night was different. I had bought my first 35mm camera about six months before and this time I had it with me. As the first rays of light began to lighten the sky, I noticed that the very tip of the Grand Teton was catching the light. I pulled my work van over to the side of the road and set up my camera, not on a tripod, but on a Park Service sign and set the camera for a long exposure. When I developed the film, I was surprised to find the whole range illuminated by the early morning light. The camera had captured the whole scene, not just the highlights I had seen with my eyes in the early dawn. I felt that I had somehow cheated in the taking of this picture. Now I realize that just as my grandmother had tinted my grandfather's early pictures, I was allowing the dawn light to fill in the palette of the view I knew was there from my experience.

Maidenhair Fern - Zion National Park, Utah

It was a rainy day with bad light and all the pictures I took that day were kind of blah! Most of the pictures had little contrast, and while the canyon was beautiful in the rain, nothing seemed to work out. We were walking in the warm rain and came across a small waterfall where a small spring came out of the cliff. This tiny sprig of a maidenhair fern was bouncing in the wind and would ever so often dip into the cascade, and then rebound out with a few droplets of water clinging to it's surface. The motion caught my eye and I was drawn to the sight. It's funny how even in a drab day, you can pick out small bursts of light and energy. I wonder sometimes if that is how my life is. I trudge through the weary day burdened by my thoughts of this or that thing that I need to get done, and forget the reason the I am here on this earth - to experience joy. In any event, this little fern brightened up an otherwise dull day for me.

Betatakin Ruin - Navajo National Monument

The first time I ever saw Betatakin, I was a teenager visiting with my parents. I was overcome by the enormity of the alcove in this hidden canyon. We viewed the ruin from the opposite canyon rim and the ruins themselves were difficult to distinguish from the rest of the sandstone cliff. The next day, we headed into the canyon, climbing down a rickety wooden staircase fastened to the sheer canyon face. In my youth, I feared that every step would be my last, yet I was drawn seemingly headlong to my certain death at the canyon floor. Once firmly on the bottomland of the canyon, I found myself in a verdant valley filled with the sounds of crystal clear spring water rushing over the sandstone puctuated by the voices of birds and the wind in the aspen leaves. It was as if a small piece had been plucked from heaven and placed in this desert wilderness. I trod the path where countless Anasazi children had walked leading to the village on the edge of the alcove. Hundreds had lived here centuries ago, and then mysteriously, one day walked away from this paradise home. The trail I followed no longer exists. It was considered unsafe with age and was not rebuilt in a time where we have come to understand how we impact these fragile sites. The trail leading to this site now follows another route three miles longer, but barely visible from the rim and today's visit can only be made with a park ranger. Some day, I would like to make the 17 mile journey to Betatakin's sister city, Keet Seel. My parents brought me here and taught me to honor those whose country this was before we came. I have now brought one of my children here and hope to return again. I wonder if those who left thought they too would come back to their home on the cliff.

Upper Antelope Canyon - Arizona

Almost within the city limits of Page, Arizona you will find that a photographer's paradise awaits you. There are two parts to this canyon - Upper and Lower Antelope Canyon. Both are part of the same intermittent stream bed and about a mile or two apart. Since they are on the Navajo Reservation, you must go with a guide and pay a fee, but don't worry - it is worth every penny. This stream cut through the sandstone of the Kayenta formation on it's way to Glen Canyon of the mighty Colorado River (now Lake Powell). You enter the canyons near the Navajo Power Plant, a coal fired plant with three belching smokestacks visible from parts of each slot canyon. This is one place that you would not want to get caught in a flash flood. I don't think very many people could climb out of this canyon with it's narrowing upper walls. The Navajo women who took us in to see this were friendly and talkative, and they took great pleasure in showing us their version of sunscreen. They mix the finely ground sandstone dust, almost a flour consistency with motor oil and then smear this all over their faces and exposed skin. They swear that it works and keeps their skin soft and supple. Trust it to a Native American to use every part of the things they have available to them and waste nothing. I can't wait to go back again.

Island in the Sky - Green River

My wife and I happened to be driving near this location this week on a business trip. We had gone on a short hike up Courthouse Wash when it started to rain pretty hard. Narrow canyons are not the place to be when it rains in canyon country, so we got ourselves out of there. With the air recently cleaned up by the rain, we headed out to Canyonlands National Park to see if we might be able to catch a rainbow looking to the east from Island in the Sky, but to no avail. Gazing to the west we could see the Green River on its way to the confluence with the mighty Colorado. Even though we were looking into the sun, we could see farther than we ever have been able to do in the past. It's interesting to me how the human brain can see a smoggy view and just "know" that there is beauty there, and compensate for the reduced vision. But just try to commit that image to film, and you get nothing but overpowering haze. This time the film gods smiled on us and we were able to pry a good picture from their steely grasp. Fifty or sixty years ago, my grandfather would come out here with the same hope, to take a small piece of this grandeur back home for others to enjoy, travelling on unpaved trails (before they became roads) sometimes at great peril to his own life. He thought it was worth it then. I think it is worth it now, even though we now need to wait out the days of haze and smog to get a view like this.

High Uinta Meadow near Trail Lake

After an afternoon hike in the Provo River drainage near Haystack Lake, I decided to head for home. The road goes through an area that was clearcut in the 50's, with quite a few trees that are now about fifty years old. I remember as a kid thinking that it was a horrible thing that they had logged this area out completely. I am still amazed every time I come across a big stump that is over four feet in diameter in this area of trees that are no larger than a foot across. What must this area have looked like with all the old growth trees? This meadow was there before the logging, the remnant of a glacial lake, and there are a few surprises out in the open area including a pristine spring where water bubbles up through the rocks forming a nice meandering stream that heads out through the grass and ends up in Trail Lake below. The evening sun lit up the meadow, with the glacier lilies and the peaks beyond for a perfect photo two feet off the road.

Hidden Lake - High Uintas Wilderness

Located at the head of the Weber River drainage, this High Uintas lake is not visited very often. In fact, the holiday weekend that I was here, I was the only one on the lake. I pitched camp 3-4 hundred yards east of the lake in a heavily wooded area near a nice clear mountain spring. As is usual here, the evening brought a torrential downpour with a little hail, but after the storm, the clouds lifted a little and the sky lit up in the west. This just proves that this is God's country, as my grandfather was fond of saying. The dark clouds will eventually lift, as they do in life, and the rainshowers feed the hillside and the lakes allowing the wildflowers to bloom and the trout to thrive. That night, after the sun finally set and it was too dark to film, I was joined at the lake by a bull and cow moose. I was content to listen to the babble of the spring over the rocks as I watched the stars come out, followed by a full moon later on that evening. Ahh...

Capitol Reef - Frying Pan Trail - Utah

Some days it seems like you can point the camera in any direction and get a good picture. This day was one of those days and what an incredible place to visit. This view toward Thousand Lake Mountain of Capitol Reef can be seen from the top of the Frying Pan Trail. You get here by climbing up the Cohab Canyon Trail to the junction and then heading up the mesa to the top. There is a reason they call this the Frying Pan Trail, and it's not because some old prospector left his frying pan here. If we were using real film, I would worry that the film would be no good from heat exposure. This would be a great place for a sunset or early morning picture, but I didn't like the idea of climbing down in the dark, and I couldn't imagine getting up early enough to be here at sunrise.

San Rafael Desert near Black Dragon Canyon

On our second trip to photograph wildflowers in the San Rafael Desert this year, we were on the lookout for the salmon colored Globemallow plants that bloom in wet years. We were excited as we found several of them along the highway, so things were looking promising for us in the desert. Once we got there, we were surprised to find these desert daisies. I don't know what they are really called, but they were found in huge clusters in pretty improbable places. I didn't see anything special about this location that would permit such a large group of flowers to grow there. You can see from the background, that this is a bleak and foreboding place, but then right in the middle of it God chose to plant this beautiful cluster of light. I wonder sometimes if that isn't a lot like our lives. We think we have been put in the middle of a dreary desert trudging along and wearied by all of our cares. But if we look for the bright spots (like we had to hunt for these daisies) God has a pleasant surprise in store for us.

Salt Lake City LDS Temple

Someone told us in church one day "You need to go to Temple Square to see the tulips". My first thought was " I better take my camera". I found a lot more than tulips in bloom. It was a beautiful day, the weather cooperated and I was able to get a few good shots. It's amazing how creative the gardeners are with their plantings. Everywhere I looked, there was a scene similar to this one.