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Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Trillium Lake Wander

Spending a Tuesday, during a snow storm, on Mt. Hood, with the people you love most is hard to describe with photographs or words. Those are the moments you stop and breath in the entire experience and realize how amazing life can be.
I often prefer going out to wild places in adverse weather situations. Most people stay home firstly, but also because you form a more intimate bond with the landscape, yourself, and whomever you travel with. There is nothing like feeling the wind blow the snow against your face. It is an experience that you would be crazy to dismiss as uncomfortable. Embracing life to its fullest means embrace all of it.
Hope you enjoy the photographs. Click on any of them to see more!

Monday, December 13, 2010

Cape Horn in the Gorge.....

Wow! The Pacific Northwest is an amazing place. The rainy season can be difficult to manage. However with a little bit of effort and being okay with getting soaked to the core, the rain brings much beauty to explore. Gina, Duke, and I headed out to explore one of these wet and beautiful sanctuaries in the Columbia River Gorge known as Cape Horn.
Many times on these small saunters, I like to leave the camera behind as a way to look at these wonderfully wild places without the eye of a photographer. I strongly feel that the camera helps me connect with the natural world in a much more intimate way, but I also notice that my other senses sometimes take a backseat allowing my eyes to dominate. This domination does not always occur when I have a camera, but it definitely does when my mind is overloaded with other thoughts. During these times, my photography suffers. Making a deeply meaningful and emotional image requires focusing all of your senses on the desired topic.

Life has been busy and my mind has been full. Busy in a fantastic way, but busy nevertheless. However, against my better judgement, I decided to grab a small, easily manageable camera just before we headed to Cape Horn. I left it mostly untouched until my mind completely cleared in the mist of the raging and unnamed falls the 3 of us had to dance through before ending our journey around Cape Horn.
I made the few images here while standing under the falls and thus in the middle of a raging wind tunnel with the exception of the first image. In that image, Gina is back hugging one of the largest Douglas Firs I have seen in this area. In the other photographs, Gina is fighting through the powerful fall while maintaining a healthy smile. We capped off this adventurous day with a visit to Walking Man Brewery in Stevenson, WA. Mmmmmm..... good food and exceptional beer always tastes better when you are hungry, happy, and soaked.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Visiting With Mom & Dad, 2010

2010 is coming to a close. And yet again I feel behind in culling through the piles of photographs I have snapped. I love making pictures, and I love sharing them with others, but I do not love sitting in front of the computer for the hours and hours it takes to cull through thousands of images to find the right balance of light, composition, and most important, emotional information that will make a potential viewer interested in an image somebody else has made.
My largest accomplishment this year, in terms of my photographic growth, has been that I have gained a level of confidence in my abilities I have never had before and know that I can make an emotionally charged photograph that will make a connection with somebody else, not everybody else, but somebody. That knowledge is incredibly rewarding to gain. Purpose is starting to develop, and with purpose comes more growth in all areas of my life. I have much further to go, but feel that I am on the correct fork in the river to take me there.
Soon, I will share a collection of photographs I have created in 2010 that will still connect with me in 50 years. But for now, I am catching up on sharing a few smaller groupings of images. I visited my home in Michigan twice earlier this year and my wonderful parents made a journey out to Oregon in August. Here is a few of those images that stir good smiles and memories....

http://www.treadinglight.com/lifeblog/parents_2010/

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Caught a plane to Boundary Waters....


And another fortunate journey amongst beauty and wilderness begins. The Boundary Waters in Minnesota's North is the freedom I seek. Many weeks ago my good friends who were raised by Minnesota's wild lands suggested taking canoes deep into the BW. A plane ticket was purchased shortly after and thoughts of photographing Northern Minnesota's autumn filled my senses although I have never set foot or paddle in this immense place. I will soon be landing and gaining my bearings today and tomorrow before we head for water. I feel like a boy about to embark up the largest pine in the forest of my youth...

Saturday, July 17, 2010

The Second 'C' Ridge I Have Been Fortunate To Climb...Cathedral Ridge

The first 'C' ridge I explored earlier this year was Casaval Ridge on Mt. Shasta with a great crew. This 'C' ridge came as a last minute plan after the weather in the North Cascades and particularly on Icy Peak went far far South. Brian Anderson and I got on the phone and started talking about plan B's. We came up with Cathedral Ridge on Mt. Hood. Because it looks like an amazing and challenging route, and because it is close to home if weather decides to turn us around.
Weather was looking good, packs were already to go, and a great group of people all had Hood on the brain. Our team comprised of Brian Andeson, Brian Eubanks, Nick Wagner, and myself. I have a difficult time describing in words a trip such as this. Something I have heard Kari and Brian Eubanks say a few times comes to mind "Pura Vida!"

Have a look at the entire set of photographs here. Enjoy......

Rain, Beauty, Mt. Forgotten....

Whit Fellers (in the photograph above) was our fearless leader who respectively titled this journey as "A Climb With Dinosaurs." He gave this title because everyone was at least twice my age. I would climb with these "dinosaurs" any day of the week and in fact found their strength and character to far surpass many climbers my age including myself.

In many sports and physical activities 30 is the limiting age. You may retire at 30 or just lose that 20-something ability. Not the case in mountaineering. Most of mountaineering has to do with mental strength and then comes endurance. I feel that as you get older and acquire mountain knowledge through experience you become mentally stronger and the endurance is just the wonderful side effect. You may be incredibly strong in your twenties and capable of a vast amount of foolishness gaining you both a sketch-ball route and distinction amongst the community. But only age can bring the mountain wisdom that I seek and hope to lose my foolishness to.See more pictures by clicking any photo above or here. Enjoy....

A Saunter Into The Past

Gina, Duke, and I made a journey over to Eastern Oregon to explore the 1860's gold rush land and the Oregon Trail. Capturing images was not my aim for this journey but I have posted some snapshots to briefly share our experience. I hope to return in the near future and spend a more intimate time making photographs of this area. Quite powerful American history.

See the images by clicking the photo above or here. Enjoy....

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Happy Birthday on the Oregon Coast

I turned 27 this May. And although I have always known it, this year I realized how fortunate my life has been. The group of friends and family that surround me through this life I am living are incredible and irreplaceable. I want to thank all of you for celebrating with me in a most amazing location. We had it all. Great food, perfect weather, the ocean, plenty of pups, lots of laughs, bow drills, strong fire, sand, dessert, beer cozys, frisbee, canoeing, mud, portaging, sleeping bags, strange pictures, and most importantly, great people. Thank You everyone for making the long journey to the Oregon Coast!! Check out the pictures and see why this weekend will stay in the memory bank when I'm an old weathered man.

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Devil's Kitchen HW on The Mind

Nick and I started talking about climbing a different route on the South Side of Hood back in January of 2009. We thought that Devil's Kitchen Headwall had a nice ring to it and we knew several of our friends who had successfully climbed this daunting title. Friends always give the best beta about a route. Weather looked promising on Valentine's Day '09. Nick, you and I are dates this year. Here are pictures from that saunter.http://www.treadinglight.com/adventureblog/2009/hood_devilskitchenattempt_021409/
We stumbled our way up to Crater Rock and evaluated the wind loaded snow. Not happy with the consolidation and the bumbling clouds shrouding the summit, we practiced building screw anchors and then descended to Portland.Round 2 came again in February 2010. Only a few days under a year since our first attempt. Last time was a bit weird being just the 2 of us on Valentine's Day and all. Which lead our decision to include 2 more dudes to help spread the love. Patrick and Jer. Today felt good. We started early, the legs were strong, and the lungs working correctly. The snow was a bit iffy from the start, but it was hard to tell with snowshoes on. We worked our way over to the edge of the White River Canyon and continued on that line to just beneath Crater Rock. Then we noticed the boot track had stopped. But we didn't notice any hasty pits or other methods of snow evaluating being done. Well, Nick and I being the only ones there at that point, decided to move a bit higher and evaluate the conditions with a quick Rutschblock. While we dug this huge square block out, a crowd formed behind us watching intently. The block was ready. I carefully strolled above it to place myself on top of it and see what gives. A Rutschblock is a simple test in which you dig a block of snow about 4'-6' deep on 3 sides and cut a line on the back wall. You then run through a series of weight loading tests onto the top of the block to see at which point the various snow layers fail. As I shifted my weight very gently onto the block 2 well defined layers failed almost instantly. This means that Devil's Kitchen will have to wait yet again. We even turned around at the exact same point on the mountain as our last attempt.March was stormy on Hood. A month for thought and frustration at times while hoping for a good weather window allowing us to stroll on our old friend. Then about a week ago on Wednesday, April 23, '10, I noticed a weather system breaking apart and potentially giving us a clear window on that Friday. It had to be that Friday because I was going to be up on Hood all weekend with Jim Hashimoto's Basic Mountaineering class helping with snow skills, and wouldn't be able to climb any other day. As it turned out the window would be closing by Friday evening anyway. I phoned several friends with an idea to go play on the Leuthold Couloir route on Hood's West side. All wanted to join, but I realized that by Thursday A.M., everyone had planned commitments they couldn't break.

My pack ready to go and bummed knowing it would have to collect dust for another week or month, I grabbed Duke's leash after work on Thursday and ran up to Powell Butte Nature Park to photograph sunset. On my way up the trail my phone rang and Nick was on the other side asking about our departure time. What?! With my mental gears already switched, I was skeptical but also excited by the possibility of climbing on the one weather friendly day. Now with it being only the 2 of us, Nick suggested that we give Devil's Kitchen HW another go. I had already turned back toward the truck before this point in the conversation and quickly agreed.We left from Portland around 1 A.M. and started our long walk up by 2:30A.M. We kept a steady pace and reached the top of the Palmer in an hour forty. Then continued up towards the East side of Crater Rock which took about another hour and a half. I was feeling quite exhausted at this point and even a bit concerned about how tired I felt as we strolled up to the headwall. Nick was climbing strong and kicking bomber steps for me to follow. Thanks to Nick's steps, a little food, and some good old adrenaline, I felt my energy coming back as we entered the main gully on Devil's Kitchen HW. Finally, after 2 failed attempts, we have made our way onto the route. Quite exciting.We built the first belay anchor and flaked the rope out. Nick would lead up the first bulgy ice pitch and I would swap leads with him and lead up the second ice pitch. Both were relatively short, but they felt huge. Nick's lead was solid, with only a couple of moves, but definitely tricky negotiating the bulge that forced you to the right and thus wedging you under a roof of rime ice. After Nick yelled "Belay On!," I got slightly wedged, but found a way through and then quickly gained the step up to Nick's belay. Excited to continue, I barely, if at all, stopped next to Nick before leading up to the base of the second step. The vertical ice on this step was a bit longer but also had some bomber tool placements and a nice chimney you could step back into. I sunk a screw in at the base and one about halfway up the step before topping out on steep to moderate snow. I then ran the 50 meter rope out to a comfy spot I could dig a T-trench and drop a picket into it as a solid deadman anchor. With my butt firmly planted and my feet kicked in deep, I yelled "Belay On!," down to Nick. The wind was whipping steady, making it difficult to communicate. Nick made his way to my position and lead out the last pitch and a half of simul-climbing to the summit rim.

The feeling of working at that level to reach something and failing several times before is a difficult emotion to describe. It's almost a sort of relief emotion. It's a relief that we don't have to come back and try again. Not to say I wouldn't climb this particular route again, but it doesn't nag at me anymore. Failure makes success blissful.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Free To Fly, Scappoose Bay, April 2010

CLICK the picture above or here for a link to all of the photographs that accompany this post...

Nick and I purchased a canoe from a craigslist posting. My love for water travel has been reignited. I have been in Portland for several years now, and until recently, have yet to take my kayak out exploring the amazing waterways meandering throughout the Pacific Northwest. This recent purchase not only got me excited about canoeing, but it also took my kayak from deep hibernation and put it back into the water and under my weight. What have I been waiting for?
A month has passed, and I can't get enough paddling in. When coming back from a sunrise paddle, I am already making plans to return to the water. The most exciting experience paddling has earned me has to do with the perspective I gain on waterfowl and birds of prey. Most particularly, the Osprey (Pandion haliaetus), which are in the process of building their nests for the summer.
The group of 3 Osprey from the colony I have focused on most extensively seem to be the slackers of the Bay. While most of the other groups have fully furnished and functioning nests, this particular group has been fussing with the same dozen or so twigs for two and a half weeks now. As asking them why they are taking such an extended time is impossible, I have to rely solely on observation. Which limits my educational guesses at this point, simply because I lack the required education to make such a guess. What I notice however, is their lengthy duels with the neighboring Bald Eagles. Maybe the Bay just isn't big enough for the two species.

I have seen the sky-dance performed by the male several times on my visits. Not while carrying food yet, but often when bringing twigs or sticks back for the nest, the few he seems to be retrieving anyway. From the little I have read thus far, the sky-dance is a display several hundred feet to within only a few feet above the nest in which rapid wing maneuvers and hovers take place while carrying nesting debris or food. This is thought to display territory and attract a mate and is usually done before the female arrives at the nesting site. It's quite the display that no IMAX theater could ever possibly capture.

The Osprey are unsure of my presence currently, and unsure for good reason. Humans very rarely mean good things are going to happen for them. After all, we did introduce DDT pesticide into the Ospreys food supply causing them to lay eggs with thin shells which break during incubation. My technique has been simple. I slowly work my boat to the shore a good distance from the piling they are nested on, methodically remove myself from the boat, or stay in the boat, and sit for a good chunk of time in hopes they start to ignore me. After several minutes of paying little attention to them and acting as if I don't care about where they are in relation to me, I gently lift my camera up to my eye. They always know that I am there of course, and are not yet comfortable with my presence, but they do let their guard down enough for me to capture images of them retrieving nesting materials. Hopefully, over time, I will be able to capture them hunting and bringing food back to the nest. Patience is the key, something I desperately need practice in.

I have posted several of the pictures I have made thus far and will keep updating you with my water journeys. Lets hope for a few hunting images to come.

This is a good link if you are interested in a quick overview of the Osprey.
http://www.newyorkwild.org/osprey_show/osprey_info.htm

Thursday, March 18, 2010

My first visit to Yosemite National Park

On the second of January 2010, I entered Yosemite National Park. Over the past several days I have attempted to recount this first visit. Every summary I have written seems to fail in sharing how this place gripped my spirit in a very different way from other places I have been so fortunate to experience. While in the park, and just before slinking down into my warm mummy sack each night, I wrote the days events into a small journal with barely legible handwriting. This may be a big no-no in the writing world, but hey, I'm not really a writer, just playing pretend. I've decided to type my journal word for word, mistake for mistake. Hopefully, this experiment will share my emotional response I recorded at the time.CLICK HERE to see the photographs I made on this journey.

January 2, 2010
My eyes have finally set their focus on the breathtaking Yosemite Valley. A truly unbelievable place. I hope a week will be enough time for me to comprehend what stretches before my vision. Wow!
I took a train from San Francisco to Merced. Then the YARTS carried me the rest of the way to Curry Village. After buying some fuel and bagels, I made my way to the historic Camp 4. I should mention that I have company as well. He calls himself Nathan. While taking the train from PDX to San Fran., I shared a row with a woman and mother named Lori. After sharing my plans about Yosemite with her, she shared her son Nathan's, passions with me. He contacted me that very day (2 days before leaving for Yosemite) and made arrangements to enter the Valley for his first visit as well.
He is a good fella with an incredible passion for Muir's vision. Having a companion limits my ability to take in the Yosemite I have dreamed of for so many years. Because of this, I plan on keeping my pursuits separate from his.
After staging camp, I threw my camera over my shoulder and set out to explore the "Range of Light." I only had about an hour and a half to venture, keeping my plan simple. Head for the closest trail, which happened to be up to Lower Yosemite Falls. The light wasn't good for a photograph, but the display was still amazing. I continued up the trail hoping for a clear view of the last light shaping the tall peaks around me. The area I was in was heavily wooded, but I did find one fairly nice view of Half Dome. The dome was incredibly warm and inviting. I framed a shot with bare branches acting as a veil over the magnificent mountain giant. I stretched my limbs well past sunset enjoying my new friend, Yosemite.

January 3, 2010
If I only had a single day in Yosemite, today would have been how I would choose to experience it. This single day contained a lifetime worth of experiences in the wild. It started off before sunrise with a lesson in John Muir's "Range of Light." I witnessed the always forming rainbows on Yosemite Falls and the ice which forms every night on either side of the falls. These elements host an impressive show each day when the sun's rays melt huge slabs into the abyss below. Then, I wandered back to camp for breakfast and a quick break before tackling the saunter up to the top of Upper Yosemite Falls. An amazing journey carried along in true Muir fashion. Once above, and after enjoying a lunch, I decided to explore a bit. The exploration, unknowingly, took me to the summit of Yosemite Point. Incredible views of the valley from here. Several feet of snow covered this area making my progress slow and with the dignity of a frontiersman.
I made my rapid descent back to camp by 3:30pm. Just enough time to grab some water and head to the Leidwig Meadow to photograph Half Dome at sunset. After the sun went down, I headed over to the village to find firewood and then back to camp for a small, embracing, and hot fire. Spicy noodles for dinner, tea for refreshment, and chocolate for dessert. I should sleep well tonight, and dream of tomorrow's adventures.

January 4, 2010
A completely unplanned yet fully adventurous day. Today, I wandered freely and allowed nothing to dictate my existence. It all started with the thrill of seeing a new area for sunrise. I took the shuttle to Happy Isles where the bus driver gave me some invaluable advice and dropped me right at the John Muir Trail TH. Wow! Finally standing at the beginning of the JMT. I started up to the gated Vernal Falls trail. After ignoring the gate and carefully navigated my way over incredibly slick ice and snow to the top of Vernal Falls, I realized why they had this trail closed. But, it was worth every precarious step. You are granted permission to stare directly down into the pool at the bottom of Vernal. Not planning on such an adventure this morning, all I carried for nourishment was an apple and a 1/2 liter of water. I ate my lonely apple beside the emerald pool until two young adults approached me hoping for advice on how to get down to the valley. They decided to ignore the closed gate as well, however they didn't have proper footwear, survival gear, or a map of the area. Quite brave and foolish (thinking about those two kids now, I admire their adventurous spirit in a world gone too soft). I decided to help them route find, but left them to go about their journey alone. After making a few more photos and enjoying the falls and Emerald Pool, I made a plan to speed ahead towards this young couple and insure their safe return. I caught up with them quickly and discussed the necessity to respect wild nature by staying safe and prepared. They listened almost too well and followed close. It makes me smile knowing that they adventured carelessly, seeking rapture, and listened to criticism well. I left them once the trail freed from the treacherous ice and the route finding became straight forward.
My next move was to wander aimlessly towards camp still several miles away on the opposite side of the valley. My walk slowed to a turtle's pace with many trees covered in various moss and lichen to study and photograph. I found paths hardly traveled that wandered near creeks and through thick wood. Once near Curry Village, I caught a glimpse of a coyote being chased from an open carcass by a swarm of Ravens. The coyote gave no fight, and gracefully left the meadow, however defeated. I was lucky and able to snap several frames off before he left from my sight. After a short side exploration along the Merced, I made it back into Yosemite Village around 3. With very little food and water all day, my spirits rose sharply when I came upon Degmans Deli. Chicken noodle soup, meat sandwich, and a delicious chocolate chip cookie along with several cups of water and tea, replenished my strength. They also had a cozy fireplace to dry my feet and boots.
It is hard to think about leaving Yosemite, however I am beginning to miss Gina and Duke. I have 3 more days amongst these giants and plan on embracing them all.

January 5, 2010
Another wonderful Yosemite day. However, a slightly different pace. A much slower one indeed. I slept in an extra hour and leisurely made my simple breakfast. Then I packed a days worth of rations and strolled along the trail just behind camp. What beautiful forests Yosemite has. Gnarly oaks growing with and around mammoth boulders, granite boulders as old as the glaciers that carried them to their resting grounds. About 3 hours and 1 mile later, I noticed how incredibly sharp my senses were and clear my mind had become. When looking up at Yosemite Falls, which I did for some time, I could single out each gallon of water making its way from the top of the falls all they way down the face and into the pool below. To be able to see with such clarity always? I can only imagine all of the beautiful and amazing things I miss each day.
I continued my slow pace through the village and into the meadow just beyond, where I found a nice patch of needles beneath a Giant Sequoia that was dry and quite comfortable. The snow all around my little dry bed made me feel warm and secluded. As I ate lunch, a hawk perched high above on a nearby tree like the star that rests on a Christmas Tree. He looked over the valley for the better part of an hour and maybe more. I then sauntered past Happy Isles out to Mirror Lake. Half Dome looked impressive and inviting from such a close perspective. I photographed reflections and ice on the water until the light disappeared with the sun.
Several miles through the night air on my way back to camp are ahead of me. A fellow photographer, and his family I presume, accompanied me for the first mile and a half with pleasant conversation. They lived just down the road from the park and made frequent day trips here. After our separation, I headed past Curry Village and snapped a few twilight photos of Half Dome. The path back to the village was as black as night can get. A bit unsure what animal friends I may stumble upon without any light, I sang and hummed back to camp. A slow and clear day.

January 6, 2010
Today I ventured West towards El Capitan. What an amazing display of granite. Each, amazingly defined, feature strikes a different cord. I thought, "Would I ever be on the face of this intimidating and powerful mountain in my life?" Now, I would guess not, but lives and dreams are ever-changing. Maybe someday. I also became acquainted with, and photographed, Sentinel Rock. As you head West the pillar formation of Sentinel becomes more clearly known. Beautiful and pronounced. After making several photos and getting to know my new mountain friends, I thought about water and decided to head even further West on foot along the Merced. Bridalveil Falls was the draw. I didn't know this until I arrived. Quite impressive, some 600 feet from the top. The top rim has a beautiful bowl shape and the water dances elegantly from the low point. Only minutes after my arrival, the usually completely shadowed fall received just a kiss of light near her center. Again, truly the "Range of Light." After enjoying the spectacle, I returned East towards the El Cap Meadow hoping to catch the sunset. My hopes were to make several emotionally charged photographs of this area. On my way, I met two new Raven friends. They seemed to care little of my close presence. In fact, They kept moving closer, eventually to within 3 feet or so. I made many pictures of these curious fellas. Eventually they had enough of my camera trickery, and took flight just over my head. What a rush. I could feel the full energy from their wings. By the time I fired off a few frames and cleared my eyes of the camera, they were gone.
The sunset on El Cap was mediocre, from a photography view, but not from the human view. The sky was clear and the light was warm, however about 40 minutes before the actual setting of the sun, all went overcast and flat. I kicked back and waited. Then waited some more, hoping for the clouds to part and release a trickle of warm light dancing across El Cap's nose. At 5:05pm, I decided to pack up and start my stroll back to camp. But just then, the show began. No fee could ever purchase such a show. The sun released a fire across El Cap that would ignite LA and burn it to the ground, but not the mighty Yosem. Valley, for it thrives in such intensity. This is one of the few times I have scene an amazing light show turn completely off, wait most of an hour, and then re-ignite with more intensity than you could have ever imagined. I sang and hummed all the way back to camp. Can't wait to see what my last day in the Valley will bring.

January 7, 2010
Couldn't have asked for a better day to end my first visit to Yosemite National Park. I am incredibly honored and privileged to have this wonderful opportunity to explore one of the world's greatest natural wonders, therefore it seems disrespectful being excited to leave and get back to the company and love of my family. However, if my family were to be here with me, I could explore Yosemite for the rest of my life and be content.
Last night, I met a fellow wilderness explorer who called himself Brandon. I enjoyed his company and conversation while the 3 of us, Brandon, Nathan, and myself, took in the comforts a campfire can only offer. We all share a rapture for the natural world that goes way beyond the REI catalog image. I guess I should have half expected to meet kindred spirits considering my first trip to Yosemite is at a campground and in the winter.
I'm sitting on the train while writing this, heading North. All I can think about is the Yosemite I'm leaving. I broke camp early and made my way to Curry Village and the showers. My first shower all week, and it was absolutely necessary. I stored my baggage in one of the park supplied bear boxes and took only my camera for the day. It was another slow engaging day after hoofing all 90 lbs of my gear 3 miles to Curry Village. I ate a hearty lunch at Degman's Deli in the Village, then meandered through the Cooks Meadow over to the Tranquil Merced River. After 30 minutes or so of heading down stream, I found a soft, dry patch of earth to lie down on and enjoy the Upper Yosemite Falls, and after a short while, nap. I had removed my shoes and socks in hopes of drying them for my long train ride commencing in a few hours. A cool breeze on the bottom of my feet woke me to the sun hiding behind clouds. I remained on my back for awhile longer watching the soft light change on the North Face of the Valley. I couldn't watch too long however, the bus was to retrieve me at 5:40 pm. Just enough time to experience another Sierra sunset before my first leave. I made my way towards Sentinel Bridge, where the famous photograph Ansel Adams took of Half Dome reflecting in the Merced River was made. It is truly a great view and I couldn't resist setting up my camera in hopes of making my own Half Dome reflection. I should have known it wouldn't last long. Soon, crowds and crowds of sheep, just like me, gathered around in hopes of creating their own Ansel Adams masterpiece. The feeling of suffocation and disconnection overwhelmed me. Before the light disappeared, I grabbed my equipment and left the herd behind in a full sprint down the Merced in hopes of beating the setting sun. I found a nice secluded spot along the river to make my last photograph of the trip. Of course, the best shot involved setting my tripod up in the middle of the Merced River, requiring my self to enter the frigid water as well. I think my reasoning was more for the experience of feeling the river run over my bare feet more so than to make a better image. But whatever reason, it was a blast.
After my feet became numb and the light faded to a dull blue, I spoke to Yosemite and the Sierra in the most grateful manner I knew how. I'm hoping Yosemite will accept me back many more times, as I may enjoy her majesty.
I had to run the mile and a half to catch my bus, and did so with just enough time to collect my gear. The ride out was made quite pleasant due to the good and much welcoming nature of the driver named Dylan. His father was accompanying him on the ride to see how his son makes his living. I hope to meet Dylan again. I would enjoy sharing stories with him. I'm getting far enough away now to change my excitement and energy towards my soon to be wife, loyal pup, and inviting home. I'll live well, and return to the Sierra again. Thank You Yosemite......

CLICK HERE to see the photographs I made on this journey.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Day after Yosemite was spent in the Gorge....

Saturday morning I wake in my home bed. Only a few hours ago I was still on the train coming home from my visit to Yosemite National Park in California with a brief stop in San Francisco to visit friends and family for a quick New Years celebration. A bit groggy and uncertain what to do with myself now that heat is supplied by a furnace, water by a tap, and food via the fridge. I stumble around the better part of the morning attempting to find a rhythm. Gina, my life partner, understands me incredibly well and knows that I'm a bit lost without the towering Sequoias and sheer granite walls surrounding me, and she takes care of me as usual.

As I start to feel somewhat comfortable again in the confines of my modern walls, I noticed my pup Duke. First Gina was gone for several days, then once I left, he was taken care of by our good friend Kati. You can imagine how confused he must be. I noticed that Duke was hoping for an adventure. He always has this way of simplifying our necessities, and made me realize that I too wanted an adventure.

With the Sullivan NW Oregon hike guide in hand, we flipped to the first saunter in the Columbia River Gorge section. And found Cape Horn, hmmm, sounds interesting, close, and a relatively quick jaunt in the Gorge, considering it is already lunch time and the sun sets at 4:45. We must get moving if we want to be out by dark. I throw my running shoes on, grab a quick snack and a few essentials such as a compass, map, water, headlamp, extra layer, and a small toy camera. Not sure what the weather had planned for us, aiming me to grab a wind breaker as well. Formerly a rain coat but all of that high end, breathable, bougie stuff only keeps rain out for a few months at best until it breaks down from being used, oddly enough. I guess they will keep you dry forever if you never actually wear them. Duke of course needs absolutely nothing and is bouncing off the walls with excitement.

After a bit of searching we found the correct parking area off of Hwy 14 in Washington. The first thing we noticed was that every plant, blade of grass, tree trunk, etc. was covered in ice. Mother Nature unleashed a healthy supply of freezing rain in this area recently. Some ice very thin, but also entire limbs in-cased in softball sized ice cubes as well. How beautiful, but also slightly intimidating wondering what the trail will be like on my light runners a thousand feet up from here. Duke doesn't have the patience for my concerns and darts up the trail to enjoy and explore this wonderfully wintry place. I too am equally excited to find a winter journey. Although there was a small amount of snow in the Yosemite Valley and much much more in the high country, the overall weather was barely winter like. I wished for a more wintry Yosemite.My time in Yosemite did however make my lungs deep and my legs strong, for the 1200 feet went by unnoticed. It also helped that the scenery grew more and more spectacular the higher we went. Large spruces bowed all the way to the ground bearing the weight of massive amounts of ice. And the trail was completely covered by low ice tunnels of limbs causing me to crawl on my hands and knees often. All of this beauty delivered a fair amount of riskiness as well. The gale force winds came regularly teeming ice bombs all over our armor-less vessels. The safest course of action seemed one of sprinting. The energy of the experience gave me a smile from lobe to lobe and a strength that seemed infinite. Duke too was running back and forth with little leaps of joy when he got close to me. We would stop at the overlook views of the Columbia River and soak them in, but only for a minute or so each time, concerned that either the winds or the ice bombs would force us into a long dive down the steep Gorge face. Once we made it over the hump and onto the lee-ward side we felt a bit more in control and slowed our pace again. The descent down the Southeast side was uneventful but always beautiful with ice sculptures in every direction.
Around Cape Horn was windy and powerful to the soul. When we came to the second waterfall I guessed that we had traveled about 5 miles leaving us with around 2 miles to go. We ate our quick snack and made the switchback turn away from the waterfall so we thought. Actually, there was one more switchback that lead us directly through and under the raging fall. My spirits lifted again knowing that we would have to run through this mighty fall in freezing temperatures and gale force winds. I knew that we would have to run the last 2 miles back to the car to keep our body temperatures above the blue zone, especially with my cotton pants that would most definitely become soaked and remain so in these conditions. I also knew that I could have searched for another way around the fall and probably would have been successful, but life is about living and this experience seemed inviting.
I turned my little toy camera's video recorder on and lunged full steam ahead, hollering with intensity as I made my way through. When I turned around to see Duke's progress he was still working up the courage to make his move on the other side. Then he let it fly and danced over the wet stones with quick foot work. The most important article of clothing I brought with me that day happened to be my full brimmed waxed canvas hat with ear flaps. It acted as a mini umbrella and kept the fall from running down my neck, back, and chest. Time to get jogging, towards home. Then I realized, in my excitement and body clinching, I turned the camera off halfway through. Well, I guess we will have to run through again for arts sake. This time was equally energy filled and Duke stayed tight on my heels. Okay, got it, and one more time back through towards home. This time we kept running all the way to the trailhead.

A worthy welcoming home adventure.

My next post will be soon, filled with images, and all about my first travels in Yosemite National Park....

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