Grand Staircase-Escalante

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Photo of the Month–July

Friday, July 1st, 2011

Wait?  What?  2011 is half over?  When did that happen?

Indeed, its true.  It feels like just yesterday, we were celebrating the arrival of a new year, now, many of us are baking in summer heat, enjoying the cool climate of the high country.  Time does fly, but its been an incredibly productive year so far, not only photographically, but professionally; in addition, my year has been incredibly enlightening on a personal level too.

I’ve been taking the time over the last few days to review some of my images from the year so far.  There’s no real purpose for this, nostalgia I suppose.  However, in selecting my July image of the month, I decided to re-introduce an image that’s already been featured on my blog.  I know it won’t appeal to everyone, but I keep coming back to it as one that’s very special.  Its definitely one of my personal favorites.

The Paria River Narrows, Utah

Subtle Beauty, March 2011

As I said previously, the Paria is one of those rivers that isn’t for everyone, and its surely not as sought after as the Green, Colorado or Dirty Devil, but its gorgeous, and I think the simple beauty of it is what moves me so much.  Like so many of you, I feel safe and comforted when I’m in a canyon, and the way the walls of the Paria sweep overhead, sheltering the hiker, only adds to the effect.  Katie Lee describes a friend’s reaction to Navajo Sandstone (1):

I have licked sandstone so many times, just gotten on hands and knees and passed my lips right over the surface, either the smooth on narrow canyon walls, or the sandy-rough up on top.  And Navajo Sandstone…that rock has gotten inside of me…whales and thighs and water and moons.  MY GOD, ITS SHAPES!!!  SHOULD WE EVEN BE ALLOWED TO SEE SUCH THINGS?  I started using the word sensual all over the place.

Without getting too risqué (this is a family-friendly blog after all), I’ll agree with the author of that passage.  The redrock wilderness of the southwest moves people in special ways, and I think that’s why this image moves me so.  I hope you enjoy it too!

(1) In her essay, Sandstone Seduction.

Shelter from the Storm

Thursday, April 21st, 2011

All rocks are not created equally; not only do they vary in surface characteristics like color and shape, they also vary in properties that aren’t immediately visible.  Rocks erode at different rates, and the elements that make them up oxidize differently, giving rock formations different colors as time passes.  These characteristics are what gives the Colorado Plateau its uniqueness–there really is no other biome on earth quite like it.

Any visitor to the southwest should become quickly acquainted with hoodoos–rock spires usually found protruding from a drainage or badlands.  Hoodoos are typically formed when a rock or boulder from a newer (therefore stratagraphically higher) layer of sandstone falls onto an older layer.  The boulder erodes more slowly, but it also protects the rock underneath it from eroding, leaving the characteristic spire with the cap rock on top of it–in this way the cap rock almost shelters the underlying rock from erosion.

On my recent trip to Utah, I made a couple of sunset visits to the Toadstool Hoodoos, located in the extreme southern end of the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.   Like other hoodoos, the Toadstools were formed when boulders from the Dakota Formation fell onto the older rock of the Entrada Formation.  Dakota Sandstone erodes more slowly, leaving vibrantly colored hoodoos in a stunning badlands setting.

(Click on the diptych to view it large.)

Toadstool Hoodoo, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument

Toadstools , March 2011

A large part of the draw of the Colorado Plateau is the interesting geology.  For me, its one thing to marvel over a beautiful formation; its another, more fulfilling, thing to marvel over how it formed.

Rimrock Badlands, Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument

Hoodoo Garden, March 2011

The Paria, part III: mud

Friday, April 15th, 2011

In addition to its immense, subtle beauty, another overriding theme of the Paria River is mud.  The river bed has a high clay content, and if you’ve ever been in clay soil when its even a little wet, you know it can be a disaster–its slick, sticky, and vehicles can get stuck in it in a moment.

In the spring, runoff from high elevation prevents some mud (by way of keeping from drying enough to reach that sticky, goopy, phase), but its always a factor.  What I like about clay is that it always forms beautiful patterns as it begins drying out.  This little patch was reflecting the red rock cliffs on the opposite side of the river early in the day.

Beautiful mud formations on the Paria River, Utah

Mud & Reflections, March 2011

I also ended up finding a few areas of quicksand, involuntarily, on my hike in the Paria.  I felt the area with my hiking pole, and feeling solid, I stepped, only to be swallowed up to my thigh almost instantly.  Fortunately, it was easy to pull myself out.  People who haven’t dealt with it have a misconception about quicksand.  It can’t really suck you into oblivion like childhood cartoons and TV shows lead you to believe.  But, as Ed Abbey writes,

Ordinarily it is possible for a man to walk across quicksand, if he keeps moving. But if he stops, funny things begin to happen. The surface of the quicksand, which may look as firm as the wet sand on an ocean beach, begins to liquefy beneath his feet. He finds himself sinking slowly into a jelly-like substance, soft and quivering, which clasps itself around his ankles with the suction power of any vicsous fluid. Pulling out one foot, the other foot necessarily goes down deeper, and if a man waits too long, or cannot reach something solid beyond the quicksand, he may soon find himself trapped. … Unless a man is extremely talented, he cannot work himself [into the quicksand] more than waist-deep. The quicksand will not pull him down. But it will not let him go either. Therefore the conclusion is that while quicksand cannot drown its captive, it could possibly starve him to death. Whatever finally happens, the immediate effects are always interesting.

Finally, the most beautiful effects, in my opinion, happen when the mud begins drying.  Because clay expands so much when wet, it cracks in beautiful, wonderfully stochastic patterns.  You can find little pockets of dried mud all along the bases of the sandstone walls.

Cracked Mud, Paria River, Utah

Sandstone and Mud, March 2011

Mud is a major component of the landscape in the Paria, as well as throughout any ephemeral drainage in the southwest.  While it can be viewed as a nonphotogenic nuisance, sometimes, its helpful to look at it in a new light.

The Paria, part II: immensity

Tuesday, April 12th, 2011

In my last post, I talked about the subtle beauty along the Paria River in southern Utah.  It doesn’t take one long to realize just how big this place is too.  You begin hiking in the river bed, but at this point the canyon is broad, maybe half a mile across.  However, as you hike downstream, the walls narrow and swell upward, leaving you in a canyon of literally inescapable beauty.

Near the confluence of the Paria River and Buckskin Gulch, you reach Sliderock Arch.

Sliderock arch, Paria River, utah

Sliderock Arch I, March 2011

Sliderock is hardly an arch in the way we normally think about an arch.  Rather than being eroded by wind and water, Sliderock Arch was formed when a large piece of sandstone fell from the wall above, hit the river bed, and leaned up against the wall.  Let me give you a sense of scale.  The opening of the arch, on the left, is about 20′ × 20′.  The righthand “arm” of the arch is about 40′ wide.  This is one big piece of rock.

Although the Paria Narrows may not be as narrow as other canyons in the southwest, they rival any canyon in immensity.

 

The Paria, part I: subtlety

Friday, April 8th, 2011

In the spirit of David Hyde’s travelogues (read the most recent here), I’ll present my recent trip to southern Utah in three parts.  However, rather than document the trip, I’ll write about three themes that came to mind as I hiked, and photographed.

Although I visited other locations (like Valley of Fire State Park), the primary purpose of my recent trip was to hike a portion of the Paria River, between the White House trailhead, and its confluence with Buckskin Gulch.  I think the Paria was one of those rivers I was meant to spend time with at some point in my life.  As a teenager, I remember reading about some of the “classic” rivers of the southwest: the Dirty Devil, the Escalante, and–of course–the Paria.  Unlike most of my peers at the time, I found a certain draw in that lovely, beautiful, muddy water.  The hike all the way to Lee’s Ferry, Arizona is considered to be one of the finest backpacking trips in the region.

Last week, I spent a day in the canyon, which starts out broadly, and narrows down after about 4 miles.  One thing I immediately noticed about the Paria is that its gorgeous–beautiful–but that beauty isn’t as in-your-face as other locations in the Southwest, like Zion, or the Wave.  This subtle beauty becomes apparent as you sit watching sandstone walls and erosions as the light passes, playing on it.  Or, as you contemplate the effects of thousands of years of wind and water on the stone.

The Windows on the Paria River, Utah
Windows into the past, March 2011

Once you enter the Paria narrows, the canyon turns from a broad, meandering line to a series of twists and turns.  However, the overhanging sandstone walls to give occasional views of the “outside.”  Again, subtle beauty is key.

The Paria River, in southern Utah
Subtle Beauty, March 2011

Grand, subtle, nuances prevail in the Paria River canyon.  What areas do you find these qualities in?

An Honest Silence

Friday, March 4th, 2011

In my blog post, “Topophilia,” an essay about the value of the desert southwest, particularly southern Utah, I wrote that I, “feel connected with the land in a way that words cannot describe.”

Indeed I do.  Some people may contend that the wild canyons and plateaus are dangerous; yes, Mother Nature can be treacherous–violently so.  However, despite that, I find sanctuary in the sandstone, a place of refuge and rejuvenation, of clarity and healing.  How can I find words to describe this place?  I may not ever be able to do it justice.

Canyon and cedar snag in the grand staircase escalante national monument, utah

Cedar Snag, Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument, August 2009

Last week, I met Ann Marie Whittaker through her blog, “Age Old Tree,”  and discovered her prose about why she loves her Red Rock Wilderness.  In a brief email exchange, I could sense a profound sense of place and love in her voice for this beautiful slickrock desert so many people fall in love with.  We need more people like Ann Marie in this world; I hope you go to her blog and read the post over and over (make sure to check out part two as well).  You’ll be inspired; I am, and I learned that its actually okay to embrace an honest silence about a place.

I’m still not sure what I want to say about southern Utah, but I’m very happy its there, and that its loved by so many.

beautiful and colorful sandstone formation, with calcite, southern utah

Sandstone Kaleidoscope, January 2011

Photo of the Month–February

Tuesday, February 1st, 2011

January is already over, and the sun is starting to creep more and more northward in the sky every day.  Photographically, January was productive, and I’m excited to share some new images with you in the next couple of weeks.  February’s image of the month is an intimate landscape from a wildly popular location on the Utah-Arizona border.  During the first week of 2011, we traveled to Page, Arizona to visit the Paria River-Vermillion Cliffs Wilderness.  Never heard of it?  Perhaps not, but I’d be willing to bet you’ve seen images from it.  The area’s crown jewel is “The Wave,” which draws huge numbers of tourists every year.

We began our trip by hiking into The Wave, and it holds up to its expectations: its stunning.  The Wave and surrounding Coyote Buttes North has some of the most striking geological formations in North America.  It should come as no surprise, then, that The Wave is also heavily photographed.  Confined to a small area, I think it would be nearly impossible to come up with a novel composition from The Wave itself.  While there, I snapped a few images, and enjoyed the surrounding area.  It may sound like heresy to some people, but I enjoyed some of the alcoves around The Wave more.  In fact, judging by the paucity of footprints, I found some fantastic locations that seem to hardly get visited just a few hundred feet away!

After enjoying this lovely area, we visited some other canyons in the area, and that’s where I found this month’s image.  One of the things I’ll blog about soon is the diversity of sandstone in this area–amazing, whimsical formations and colors abound.   I really liked the way the sandstone “windows” here contrasted with the ice below.  I hope you enjoy it too.

Also, I wanted to mention that yesterday I had the honor of being featured by David Hyde over at the Landscape Photography Blogger.  Over there, David primarily showcases the work of his father, Philip Hyde, the pioneering color landscape photographer.  Head on over and check out the feature as well as some of David’s other blog posts.  I think you’ll quickly learn that if you don’t already read regularly, you’ll want to.

Sandstone and ice in Buckskin Gulch, Paria River-Vermillion Cliffs wilderness, Utah.

Ice underneath, January 2011

Photo of the Month–September

Wednesday, September 1st, 2010

As I learn more post-processing techniques, I’ve been enjoying going through several of my older images on this website and adding some “finishing touches” to them.  This is a nice exercise because it allows me to re-evaluate images, as well as take my own trips down memory lane.  If I combine this with the fact that several close friends have taken trips to southern Utah in the last few months, I am reminded how I feel about that place.  So, September’s photo of the month is from the summer of 2009, when I visited the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.

Zebra Canyon is a fantastic slot canyon located in the northern part of the monument, and is extremely photogenic.  Shooting in Zebra Canyon was something I envisioned for almost 2 months before the trip, so I was happy to finally get the chance to visit the location in August 2009.

zebra slot canyon, grand staircase-escalante National monument, utah

Zebra Canyon, August 2009

You can see all of my photos from the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument by clicking here.  Here’s to trips down memory lane.

Have a great month!

My 5 favorite images of 2009: #1

Wednesday, December 30th, 2009

The hardest thing about the last 5 days has been picking out 5 of my favorite images from this year.  Obviously I like all the images on this website, or I wouldn’t share them with you, but I like them all for different reasons.  Some were images that I envisioned for weeks (or even months) before getting the chance to make them, so I was happy when the shot came together.  Others were ones I associate memories with; I was able to shoot with my dad (who lives 750 miles away) a few times this year, and other times I had my wife and son with me.  The memories are what make those images some of my favorites, not so much whether they’re technically perfect.

Today’s image also comes from Utah’s Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument.  Shooting in Zebra Canyon was something I envisioned for almost 2 months before the trip, so I was happy to finally get the chance to visit the location in August.  You can read about photographing inside of Zebra here.

Zebra Canyon, August 2009

Zebra Canyon, August 2009

You can view my four other picks for 2009 here, here, here, and here.   My family and I are leaving tomorrow morning to celebrate the new year (and incidentally, new decade) in Yosemite National Park.  I hope 2010 brings you happiness, health, and fantastic light!  Many warm wishes.

My 5 favorites of 2009: #3

Monday, December 28th, 2009

The next image in my year-end lineup includes a human element.  In August, we visited the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument in southern Utah.  Although my “day job” allows for plenty of photography time, my days off to shoot either lie in the heat of summer, or the dead of winter.  Thus, visiting the Escalante in August, was…um…hot.  But it was very worth it.  On our second day there, we decided to visit a feature known as the Golden Cathedral.  Getting there is not really tough–it involves about 5 miles of cross country hiking, but getting there is all downhill.  Plus, once you’re in the floor of the canyon (the last mile) you’re protected from the heat of the day.

We spent about 1 hour shooting in the Cathedral, but my favorite shot to come out of the day was one I took of my friend Brent, who was kind enough to stand still for all 3.2 seconds this exposure took.

Be sure to check out my first two images of 2009 here and here.

Inside the Cathedral, August 2009

Inside the Cathedral, August 2009