Going South Day 1

There comes a time in a photographers life that you have to step back from the camera and observe life independent from the viewfinder. I haven't encountered that time yet in my life. I still can't enjoy looking at the world without wanting, (craving?) to photograph the scenes that I see. I try to spend time without having a camera close by, but it is hard for me, like I am missing one of my senses.

Then there are times where your whole intent is to immerse yourself in recording those precious moments of beauty that constantly surround us that not everyone has the wit or ability to see. Back in January I had one of those times. A three day trip to a Balloon Festival in Bluff, UT with a few side trips and scenic routes added in.

Leaving the Salt Lake Valley just after 5:00 am with my brother and his daughter I headed to a favorite place, for what may be the last visit for awhile. New horizons await, there is so much to see in Utah.

Our first stop: The Wedge Overlook/The Little Grand Canyon, in the heart of the San Rafael Swell. It is a most amazing area. It is accessed via a well maintained dirt road that turns off of Utah Route 10, just before the town of Castle Dale. We left pavement just as the sun was cresting the buttes to the east. Looking back I saw the setting moon just above the cliffs to the west. Lacking the time to set up my tripod I stopped and  braced myself against a fence post just in time to catch the moon kissing the horizon.

 The ethereal impact of the scene was matched by the impact of the cold air! I had not put on my coat, fleece or down vest and a simple t-shirt over thermax was no match for this desert freeze. Once out to the viewpoint, I woke everybody up and we got busy. While I am not a huge fan of haze as a general rule, I enjoyed the depth it provided to this shot. Using a moderate telephoto focal length to compress the layers of rock formations, added a dimension I have not captured here before.

Turning more southwest, the light gilding the tops of the walls highlights the textures of the formations, the snow adding illumination to the shadowed canyon stretching to the San Rafael River far below.

Leaving the higher plateau edge, we drove east to the entrance to Buckhorn Draw (also known as Buckhorn Wash) I experienced the area as I had not before, instead of the fall colors I got brown and dead dusty yellow. The skeletal cottonwoods simply waiting for the warming spring and the water running down from the high country to give them new life. The incredible harshness of the environment gives no quarter, if you do not learn to conquer then you eventually die. The beauty of the limbs gnarled by their struggle to survive frames the sheer massiveness of the buttes and canyon walls.

The ancient peoples left their marks, and others less ancient as well. A testament to the impermanence of life, and the long reaching effects of those who have passed on.

Choosing to make an image as surreal as the place it is taken, I am disturbed by the over emphasis of the colors and textures, yet I wonder if this is not closer to the visions of the old ones, altering their senses by chemical means as they celebrated the traditions that kept them together as one.

The monuments of modern men being both more permanent and less graceful. Proceeding further down the draw lies a now unused bridge, the mark of the need for quick and easy transportation. Constructed in a place far from anywhere and a time where labor was cheap.

The details of the structure provide an abstract beauty an "industrial art" you could call it.

Heading south out of the swell to Interstate 70 and Gas in Green River, we journeyed on our way, no longer stopping but simply looking at the sights without the lens to select only those parts we focused on. In anticipation of the simple power and beauty of hot air balloons awaiting us the next morning.

If you would like to see a few more images, from this part of the trip, they may be viewed here.

Last Red Rock Trip of the Year! (sigh.....)

I had to take one last trip south, in part because my two older daughters begged me to after taking their sister last month. (Don't think they wanted to be outdone by a 7 year old...... ;-) )

I was glad we took the opportunity, the cottonwood trees were changing and the skies were blue. Perfect weather! I decided to go minimalist seeing as I have been to this area so much, so I left most of my lenses in the car and took only my Pentax SMC K 28mm f3.8 and my DFA 100mm f2.8 Macro into the slot. Didn't need the DFA 100 at all..... It was kind of fun to go back to the basics with manual focus and manual aperture control and check you metering etc...

Purists will likely think I have too many photos in this post. Feh, I say, FEH! I like 'em! All shots taken with the 28 unless noted otherwise. And no, no polarizer was used.

The cottonwood trees in the wash at the exit of the canyon always amaze me, how did they survive flash floods and grow and flourish. Amazing what mother nature can do.

These shots are quite different though taken just steps apart. I think the first is better composed.

I wonder how many people over how many years have walked this streambed, did ancient peoples thousands of years ago walk up these canyons and enjoy the beauty? Or were they reserved for more sacred rituals? Would they travel out of their way to see it like so many of us do?

The manifold shades of yellow/red at times almost overwhelm and yet to the observant eye are so varied as to astound the soul of those that get to see them.

The intricate interplay between the sedimentary rock and the weathering and wearing away of the surface by water and wind create fantastical beauty. Sometimes the shape or form is more important than the color of the rock. Monochrome emphasizes the textures of the tortured rock.

Heading into the bowels of the rock you look back to see from whence you came, eager to experience the darkness but hesitant to leave the light.

Millions of years of sediments compressed into a few short steps, walls of rocky swiss cheese allow you to view the time capsule.

Deep in the canyon some areas widen out, allowing you to see the secret fortresses of rock that tower over the deep crevasses. The sheer massiveness of the scene almost more than your mind can comprehend.

Exiting into the wash almost leaves you regretting the experience, yet relishing the secret locked in your memory knowing that you shall renew it again someday.

Always taking the scenic route when time allows, returning to Buckhorn Draw required no decision simply acquiescence to the lure of dirt roads and towering cliffs.

The changing leaves add to the melancholy feeling, knowing that my visits for the season are done, yet glorying in the change of the seasons that make it worth the trip.

The realization that you have indeed traveled such an austere and rugged landscape with such ease fills your mind with awe at the hardiness of those who have traveled the land before you, on foot, horseback, or even simply without air conditioning.....