It is early morning.  The forest is calm and tranquil.  The musky scent of pine and redwood fills the air.  We are the only ones there.  It is peaceful and serene.  The giant redwoods surround us.  We are in awe as we soak in the grandeur of these commanding, ancient trees. The panorama is ever changing as we leisurely explore the old-grove trails.  Here and there a colorful Varied Thrush or the diminutive Pacific Wren would flutter among the fallen tree trunks and forest floor grubbing for their favorite morsels.  We are fully immersed in the ambiance of nature's majesty.

So it was for our photo trip to California's old-grove redwood forests.  The scattered old-groves, along northern California's Highway 101, are consolidated into the Redwood National and State Parks system.  We started this journey in Crescent City, some eight hundred miles, and fourteen hours, north of San Diego.  We called Crescent City home for four days and then leisurely meandered to Garberville for two more days of exploring and photographing the redwoods.  The trip was timed to coincide with the spring bloom of wild rhododendron in the redwood groves.  

Our timing was excellent and we first sighted the colorful "rhodies" along Highway 101 in the Del Norte Redwoods State Park some fifteen miles south of Crescent City.  Although we attempted to photograph the rhodies there, shooting alongside busy Highway 101 was extremely distracting.  Our most satisfying rhododendron photography occurred along the much less traveled, dirt track to the Stout Grove in Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park.  Here we found numerous opportunities to photograph rhodies and made several early morning jaunts there during our stay in Crescent City.

You can see the results of our efforts in the Redwoods Gallery and why we love nature photography.

I was starting to exhibit symptoms of "cabin fever".  It had been several months since the adventurous Patagonia trip and, even though I had been playing around with some local beach and night-sky photography, I was ready for a real photo trip.  So it was that Bruce and I ventured to Big Sur to attempt some landscape photography along the rocky central coast.  If you have read any of my previous blogs, you will know who Bruce is.

We stayed at the Big Sur River Inn (www.bigsurriverinn.com) that is conveniently situated about midway along the picturesque coast and various State Parks where we planned to photograph.  The Inn lacked some essential amenities, such as a fridge, that required us to purchase a Styrofoam cooler to store our breakfast and lunch supplies.  The remoteness of the Inn meant there was no cell service and that required a 55 mile round trip to Carmel to make calls home.  The weather, although a bit cooler, was much like San Diego with a morning marine layer and an afternoon fog bank out over the Pacific.

We explored Big Sur from Point Lobos to the North and McWay Cove to the South.  We photographed the rocky shore line of Soberanes Cove, Garapata Beach, Bixby Creek bridge, Pfeiffer Beach, and McWay falls.

I had conceived a couple of special photographic experiments to try on this trip.  The first failed miserably.  I wanted to photograph a moonset over the Pacific ocean.  That special experiment failed because we failed to select a suitable location to photograph from.  The moon set behind a hill before it approached the horizon over the ocean.  The second experiment had better, although not fantastic, results.  We were in Big Sur during the April 14/15 lunar eclipse and I wanted to create a "stacked" image of the moon as it was swallowed by the earth's shadow.  My timing and location were accurate.  We got an unobstructed view of the moon disappearing into the earth's shadow.  Unfortunately, as the eclipse evolved, thin high clouds started to float in front of the moon making it extremely difficult to focus properly.

Lunar EclipseSeries of Stacked Images of Moon as it Approaches a Full Eclipse within Earth's Shadow California condors have been reintroduced into the remote back country of Big Sur.  My pre-trip research led us to a turnout along Highway 1 were the birds have frequently been spotted.  The area has steep cliffs that rise abruptly from the ocean and provide the dynamic uplift the large condors need to soar and search for food.  We started our vigil with extreme optimism but after an hour or so that optimism started to wane.  We had no idea if the birds would appear.  But then, just as we contemplated returning the the Inn, two condors came soaring by.  By that time we were so distracted and inattentive that we missed our opportunity to photograph these large vultures.  We watched dejectedly as the condors landed in a pine tree too far away to photograph.  Much to our delight, the condors left their tree and came soaring back by us and this time we were ready.  Bruce and I let them have it with our eight-frames per second motor drives.

Before and during the Big Sur trip, I had been checking to see if the late February and March rains might have resulted in an unexpected wildflower bloom.  I typically check the desert wildflower web site (www.desertusa.com) and the California Poppy Reserve (www.parks.ca.gov)  .  Much to my surprise the reserve web site indicated that there was a late poppy bloom and that the peak was anticipated to occur during the Big Sur trip.  To take advantage of this surprise development, we decided to leave Big Sur a day sooner than planned and spend the time in the Antelope Valley photographing poppies instead.  That turned out to be a very wise decision.  The fields and hills around the poppy reserve were carpeted with bright orange poppies.  We spent hours meandering along the unpaved roads of the Antelope Valley exploring and photographing various fields of poppies.

PS:  For those of you who may be interested in the condor reintroduction program, you might want to check out www.condorspotter.com.  I identified the condor I photographed by the Number 4 on his radio transmitter.  Turned out it was a male named Amigo born at the San Diego Safari Park.  You can learn more about him on the referenced web site.  He has rather an interesting history.

Here I am biding my time waiting to depart for my next photo trip.  Winter is always a slow time of year for photography.  Unless, of course, you like cold, snowy winter scenes, or you head to the southern half of the world where it is summer.  But not this year.  I am patiently waiting for spring and my trip to the Big Sur coast in central California.

Although I am biding my time, I have also been keeping my photo gear limber by doing some shooting along the coast in La Jolla.  I have been patiently waiting for those times when the tidal conditions and sunset colors collide to make for "keeper" images.  There was some success but it took several trips to the beach.

I have also been experimenting with some night sky photography.  My first attempt was to get an image of the full moon rising over the visitor center at the Tijuana Estuary.  That's a pretty specific mission, I know.  But, being a volunteer photographer for the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, San Diego National Wildlife Refuge Complex, I had been requested to see about some unique shots of the refuge and I had thought a moonrise over the visitor center would be "unique".  To prepare, I researched when a full moon would rise with sufficient ambient light to properly expose the visitor center. 

Next I wanted to learn how to photograph the really dark, night sky with stars.  After much reading, I decided that the Anza-Borrego desert would be a good place to try star photography.  So my photo-buddy Bruce and I spent a couple of night in Borrego Springs trying to practice what we had learned about taking pictures of the stars.  I was particularly interested in getting "star trails", not just the static stars.  Getting good star trail images requires hours of exposures, making for late nights.  Fortunately, this early in the year the sky is dark enough for star photography fairly early and we were back at the motel long before midnight.

In early April, Bruce and I attended a Night Sky Photography workshop sponsored by the Desert Institute at Joshua Tree National Park (www.joshuatree.org).  The workshop was conducted by Dennis Mammana (www.dennismammana.com), an astronomer, night sky photographer and author.  Dennis was very passionate about teaching proper techniques and procedures to obtain sharp focused and correctly exposed images.  During the late night hours we practiced what Dennis had admonished.  On one evening, we were visited by the Space Station which traversed through the sky where we were practicing.

Star CirclesJoshua Tree National Park

Star CirclesArch Rock, Joshua Tree National Park

It was a lot of fun trying these night shots and it has given me enough confidence to try again.  Hopefully the night sky in Big Sur will not be too foggy or cloudy to shot the stars while I'm there.  The plan is to try for a moonset over the Pacific Ocean.  There is also going to be a full lunar eclipse at that time that I will be trying to photograph.  Good luck with that!  I'll let you know how that worked out when I return from Big Sur.

Our last trip of 2013 was a doozy!  We traveled nearly as far south as we had traveled north in September to an area of vast proportions, unique wildlife, diverse environments and incomparable landscapes.  Jane and I joined a small group of avid photographers to explore remote Patagonia and Easter Island.  The tour was sponsored by Michael Francis (www.michaelfrancisphoto.com) and the in-country guide was Rex Bryngelson (www.patagoniaphoto.com).

We flew from San Diego, via DFW, to Santiago, Chile and on to Hanga Roa, the only community on Easter Island.  Hanga Roa, with a population of about 3,800, is allegedly the world's most isolated village, located about 2,500 miles from continental Chile and 2,900 miles from its Polynesian neighbor, Tahiti.  Easter Island was discovered by Dutch explorers on Easter Sunday in 1722, hence its name.  On world  maps it is also named Isla de Pascua, the Spanish translation of Easter Island.  The Polynesian name preferred by the islanders is Rapa Nui.

The island is small, about 63 square miles, a mere spec in the vast southern Pacific Ocean.  Its history is unique, controversial and makes for great reading.  Rapa Nui has a vast concentration of prehistoric archaeological artifacts causing the entire island to be declared a World Heritage Site in 1966. The moai are Rapa Nui's most unique archaeological attraction and these iconic stone statues are what we had come to photograph.  See the Rapa Nui gallery for images from Easter Island.

We encountered a few surprises along the way.  First, I'd guess that a good 85% of our travel, that is 850 miles, was on graded gravel roads, with varying amounts of bouncing, jouncing and rattling about.  That made for difficult cat-napping as we wended our way through the seemingly endless pampas of the Patagonian steppes.  The second surprise was the arid nature of the terrain.  Most of the Patagonia steppes we traversed, with the exception of the areas near the Andes mountains, consisted of undulating plains, much like the great plains of North America, however, almost bare of any vegetation.  Even along mighty rivers emanating from the Andes, there were no trees.  These plains, or pampas, are in the rain shadow of the Andes and receive relatively little precipitation.  The soil supports various native grasses such as bunch grass.  But throughout our journey we observed no extensive agricultural development, only sheep and cattle grazing.  Finally, in the realm of unexpected surprises, let me mention the wind, the incessant wind, the perpetual wind, the unremitting wind, the unceasing wind, the knock-you-to-the-ground wind, the why-would-anyone-live-here wind.

Our first night was spent at the Estancia del Zorro (what are the chances of that?) and photographed Chilean Flamingos feeding in a small pond near the ranch house.  The next day we explored the Estancia Punta Monte searching for Andean Condors.  The condors are attracted to potential sheep carrion and we found a large group of condors soaring along a steep cliff on the ranch.  Fortunately we were able to navigate within a few hundred yards of the top of the cliff where we were able to photograph the condors as they floated on the wind nearly at eye level.  So our adventure in Patagonia began.

Another memorable photo shoot was at the Cuervas de Marmol (Marble Caves) along the shore of Lago General Carrera (you have to admire a general named after a Porsche).  These caves were formed by 6,000 years of waves washing up against the marble (calcium carbonate) peninsula projecting into the lake and creating intricate, swirling tunnels and colorful columns, enhanced by the emerald blue reflection of the lake water.

After some fantastic photography at the marble caves we sojourned at Valle Chacabuco.  The Lodge at Valle Chacabuco was recently constructed in the old, elegant style of the great railroad lodges of the west.  The lodge was built on an old estancia that is being transitioned to be a future Chilean national park by the Conservacion Patagonia organization.  This conservation group was started by Kristine Tompkins, the former, long time CEO of the Patagonia clothing company.

As we traveled from Lago General Carrera to Valle Chacabuco, we would occasionally see guanacos that I was anxious to photograph. On each occasion Mike Francis would dissuade me with assurances that there would be ample other, and better, opportunities to photograph guanacos.  In fact, he boasted that we would photograph so many guanacos that I would be satiated.  Doubtfully I acquiesced to his assurances.  At the end of the tour, however, I found that I had photographed as many of the adorable mammals that I wanted and found myself, in fact, not caring to photograph any more. 

We left the elegant ambiance of the Lodge at Valle Chacabuco in Chile for the home-style milieu of Estancia la Oriental adjacent to Francisco P. Moreno National Park in Argentina.  Here we were treated to a sumptuous evening meal, served family style, of roasted lamb, red beats, potatoes, vegetables, bread and a cheery wine.  The lamb was culled from the herd that day and roasted on a a rack in an open oven adjacent to the dining area.  What a feast!

My original interest in Patagonia stemmed from its breathtaking mountain scenery.  Images of Torres del Paine and Monte Fitz Roy were my inducement to sign on with Michael Francis for this memorable tour.  Turns out that Patagonia is much, much more than just world class mountain landscapes.  Jane and I so much enjoyed Patagonia's vastness and diversity.  We watched new born guanaco chulengo taking their first staggering steps, we observed black-necked swans protect their young cygnets, looked into the eyes of condors, chased a hairy armadillo, were fascinated by the behavior of rheas, and marveled at the wonder of the Andean peaks.  What a marvelous adventure this turned out to be.

Where to begin?  You know you've been on a long trip when you get a haircut and oil change en route.  North to the Yukon and Back was a long trip, a very long trip, seven thousand five hundred and thirty road miles and thirty seven hours on Alaska's famous Marine Highway ferries.  But what an adventurous trip it was.  No wonder I don't know where to begin this blog.

So I will start at the beginning.  This trip was conceived to combine two long-delayed travel goals into one extended trip.  These travel goals were to explore southeast Alaska's Inside Passage and to tour the historic Alaska Highway.  Exploring the Inside Passage implied maximizing opportunities for wildlife and nature photography and making as many stops along the Marine Highway as possible.

A cursory check of various maps and publications confirmed that this concept was feasible.  We could sail the Inside Passage on the Alaska Marine Highway ferry system and drive the Alaska Highway from Haines Junction, Yukon Territory, to Dawson Creek in British Columbia.  From there getting back home to San Diego would be a "snap".

After several months of internet searches, emails and numerous telephone calls, I had a complete and detailed itinerary for this monumental excursion.  Jane and I partnered up for this adventure with Bruce Hollingsworth, our good friend and photo buddy.  On August 12, with Willie Nelson singing our road trip theme song "On The Road Again", we three adventurers headed north to the Yukon on Interstate 5 from San Diego.  All the planning was now behind us and ahead lay the exhilaration of a fantastic photo journey.

As with any journey of this magnitude and complexity, there were times of elation when expectations were fully attained, and those low, dispirited periods when all went awry.  At Prince Rupert, gateway to the Inside Passage, I had arranged for two days of chartered whale photography with Foggy Point Charters (www.foggypoint.com).  Rodney, caption of the Orca Breeze, was excited about taking us to where he knew with certainty the whales would be.  All the enthusiasm and excitement dissipated as the weather turned blustery and the whales were not to be found.  The second day was cancelled due to high winds in the Chatham Sound.  Thus were my high hopes and expectations of breaching whale images dashed.  Not only at Prince Rupert, but also Ketchikan, Wrangell and Gustavus where the Icy Strait is know for its predictable population of humpback whales.  It was a major disappointment of the trip.  At Wrangell, however, I had scheduled two days of black bear photography at the Anan Wildlife Observatory that turned out to be a truly memorable part of our adventure. 

Ketchikan was our first stop along the Marine Highway.  It is also a major port-of-call for cruise ships plying the Inside Passage.  Five massive cruise ships disembarked their thousands of passengers while we were in town.  Needless to say, streets were jammed with shoppers and local attractions packed with sightseers.  We did manage to find solace at Totem Bight, a small Alaska state historic park some ten miles north of Ketchikan (www.dnr.alaska.gov/parks/units/totembgh.htm).  This quiet little enclave has an impressive collection of restored and re-carved totem poles representing Tlingit and Haida cultures.  In Ketchikan we also got away from the crowds with two days of flightseeing with SeaWind Aviation (www.seawindaviation.com) to the Misty Fjords National Monument Wilderness and to Traitor's Cove Bear Observatory.

Our next destination was Wrangell and Wrangell was a total delight.  No flocks of tourists to contend with here, just friendly locals and a handful of adventurous independent travelers like ourselves.  Not all was perfect, of course.  We did lose out on a whale photography charter due to high winds out in the Sumner Strait.  But our two charters to the Anan Wildlife Observatory turned out wonderful.  All our charters in Wrangell were booked with Alaska Charters and Adventures (www.alaskaupclose.com).

The Anan observatory is about 30 miles southeast of Wrangell, that is, the way the crow flies.  The trip is a bit longer by boat.  Brenda Schwartz, one of the principals at Alaska Charters and Adventures, piloted her high powered jet-boat smoothly and quickly through the Eastern Passage and Blake Channel to get us to the Anan Creek trailhead.  There we were met by U.S. Forest Service rangers who, together with Brenda and her "bear gun", guided us to the observatory.  As we hiked along the trail, we observed plenty of evidence (scat) that this was bear country.  The observatory was a newish, wooden structure constructed above Anan Creek from which bears could be observed while sheltered from rain.  Below the observatory, almost at creek level, was a canvas covered photo blind where the three of us spent most of our time photographing the black bears of Anan Creek.  I have created a gallery just for the Black Bears of Anan Creek.

Gustavus was next on our itinerary.  This tranquil community of about four hundred year-round residents was a delight to visit.  Talk about friendly people!  A wave of the hand, or a warm "good day", was obligatory when passing people on the street or in their cars.  Gustavus is the gateway to Glacier Bay National Park, but no cruise ships stop here.  There is no infrastructure to accommodate these mega-ships and the throngs of passengers they carry.  Instead, cruise ships bypass Gustavus, sail pass Bartlett Cove into the Silakaday Narrows, and on to the glaciers in Glacier Bay.

The weather and an early migration conspired against our last quest for breaching and bubble feeding whale images.  We had three days of whale photography arranged with Glacier Bay Sport Fishing (www.glacierbaysportfishing.com).  Although we actually did get on the "Stoic" with Mike Halbert each day, they were not productive photo sessions, with high swells, fog and rain in the Icy Strait.  The best we could conjure up were some whale tail shots and a pass along a Steller's sea lion colony.  Mike speculated that warmer than normal ocean water had created an over-abundance of plankton.  Being low man on the food chain, this high concentration of feed stock resulted in the whales fattening up earlier in the feeding cycle and starting their migration south several weeks ahead of their normal start.  Irrespective of this disheartening reality, no great "money" shots of whales breaching, we enjoyed immensely our stay in Gustavus.

Next we sojourned to Haines, leaving the quietude of Gustavus behind.  From now, there would be no more frustrated attempts at whale photography.  We were back on the mainland and the famous Alaska Highway beckoned.  At Haines we concentrated on landscape photography and a stop at Steve Kroschel's Wildlife Center (www.kroschelfilms.com).  We had arranged for local photography guides with Rainbow Glacier Adventures (www.rainbowglaciers.com).  Weather continued to plague us in Haines.  The ice fields of the Chilkat Range created dense low clouds that obscured picturesque peaks and hanging glaciers.  Rain and fog made photography of the colorful, autumn-colored, tundra difficult along the Chilkat and Three Guardsmen passes in the foothills of Nadahini Mountain.  Bad weather also confronted us at Steve Kroschel's Wildlife Center.  We arrived early in the morning with a dense overcast and light rain, resulting in low-light wildlife photography.  Not good!  Steve raises "wild" animals for his film projects.  Joe Ordonez, of Rainbow Glacier Adventures, had arranged a private photo shoot at Steve's menagerie.  I was able, under difficult conditions, to obtain some images that would be impossible to obtain in the wild, including a pine marten, lynx and wolverine.  See the Other Wildlife gallery for images from Steve's place.

After Haines, it was North To The Yukon.  We drove the Haines Highway to Haines Junction, at historic mile 1,016 of the famous Alaska Highway, in the Yukon Territory.  This was our most northerly penetration and from Haines Junction our journey continued southeast along the Alcan to Dawson Creek, mile zero of the Alaska Highway.  It was a four day journey with stops at Marsh Lake, Watson Lake, Fort Nelson and Dawson Creek.  At Watson Creek we left Yukon Territory and entered British Columbia.  With embarkation onto the Marine Highway ferry in Prince Rupert, some twenty-five days earlier, and arrival at Dawson Creek, the primary goals of the adventurous expedition had been realized.  Now, we just had to get home.

We traveled home at a leisurely pace with sojourns in Jasper, Kananaskis Village and Many Glaciers.  Jane and I had visited Jasper in the past and thoroughly enjoyed the ambiance of this tidy community.  For our travel home, therefore, we included a four day respite in Jasper.  We savored its restaurants, pubs, shops and, of course, its grand and spectacular scenery.  We departed Jasper well rested as we headed for Kananaskis Village along the Icefields Parkway, through Lake Louise, Banff and Canmore.  On the way, we took advantage of the many scenic photo opportunities the northern Rocky Mountains offered.  See the Scenes Along the Way gallery for impromptu images taken along our route.

At Kananaskis Village, our last stop in Canada, the weather delivered an unexpected surprise.  After a blustery and rainy day, we were greeted, the next morning, with a light dusting of snow on the high mountain peaks surrounding the village.  This "terminal dust" portends the end of autumn and the beginning of winter.  For us, having a dusting of new snow on the jagged, craggy mountain peaks offered a welcomed enhancement to the beauty of photographing the scenic environment of Kananaskis Country.

After our last coffee stop at Tim Horton's in Pincher Creek, Alberta, we crossed into the U.S. at the Chief Mountain border station.  We were most relieved that we were allowed back into the country.  From the Chief Mountain entry, it was a short jaunt to the Many Glaciers section of Glacier National Park in Montana.  We overnighted in the park lodge at Many Glaciers, something Jane had wanted to do for some time.  This venerable old lodge lacked many of the hotel amenities we now take for granted.  However, the historic elegance of this majestic and grand eighteenth century lodge more than made up for its understandable shortcomings. 

So now our monumental odyssey North to the Yukon and Back draws to a close.  After Many Glaciers, we three intrepid wanderers stowed our gear and prepared to head home.  Bruce departed via Delta Airlines from Kalispell while Jane and I enjoyed some additional days of solitude with hot Jacuzzi soaks at our Glacier Wilderness Resort timeshare.

WOW!!!   What an adventure it was!!!

There we were, in knee-high Mug boots, at low tide, on Alaska's Cook's Inlet mudflats, photographing brown bear sows teaching their cubs to dig for clams.  And that was just the very first morning!  We had flown with Tim Smith, in his small, but juiced up, Cesna (www.alaskasmithair.com)  from Anchorage to the Silver Salmon Creek Lodge (www.silversalmoncreek.com) that morning.  After landing smoothly on the beach, we were transported to the lodge, located on the shore of Cook's Inlet, by an all terrain vehicle (ATV) pulling a small trailer with us and our bags aboard.  After a quick, informal check-in that included a warm welcome from our host Dave Coray, an introduction to our personal guide, Brian, and a familiarization tour of our very comfortable cabin, the Puffin Perch, we were off before lunch photographing Alaskan Coastal Brown Bears on the mudflats.

The concept for this photo adventure was conceived more than a year ago.  I contacted the Silver Salmon Creek Lodge because so many bear photography workshops are conducted there.  I specifically asked Dave Coray about the best time to photography first-year cubs.  That's how Jane and I ended up in Alaska again (this was our sixth time), at this amazing location within the Lake Clark National Park and Preserve (www.nps.org/lakl), in mid-July for an exciting four day stay.

The question often asked about our wildlife photographs is "how close were you?".  Well, at Silver Salmon Creek we were very close.  It was not uncommon for us to be within about ten yards of the bears.  The coastal bears at Silver Salmon Creek have contended with photographers for several bear-generations and have habituated to the presence of photographers and wildlife enthusiasts.  Even though we were in very close proximity, mother bears with their cubs were extremely tolerant and exhibited no signs of stress as we watched and photographed.

The images in the Silver Salmon Creek gallery tell the story.  We delighted in watching female bears teaching their young to clam on the mudflats, chuckled at cubs cavorting and playing in the meadows, were impressed with the energy and power of immature bears posturing and play-fighting, and enjoyed tender moments as sows nursed their cubs.  Of course there were many hours of trudging the landscape and waiting as the adult bears lazily grazed the meadows and the tuckered out cubs napped.  But ....

 WOW!!!  What an adventure!!!

Cedar Mesa in southeastern Utah is a 400 square mile plateau riddled with a maze of steep, eroded canyons, arroyos and washes.  It is also peppered with archeological sites of Ancestral Pueblo cliff dwellings and rock art.  My new quest is to create a portfolio of outstanding images of these long abandoned, ancient ruins.  So, after considerable and detailed planning, Jane and I packed our proverbial bags and headed for Indian country.  Our friend and photo-buddy Bruce Hollingsworth signed-on to join us on this expedition.

For those impatient souls who just want the highlights, here is a brief recap of our adventure.  We left San Diego on May 26th bushy-tailed, bright-eyed and full of vim and vigor.  We returned on June 6th travel weary, fatigued with blisters on our feet and faces adorned with big red, itchy gnat bites.  In between we had an exciting, thrilling and stimulating quest.  In addition to seven days exploring and photography on Cedar Mesa, our stops along the way included Wupatki, Navajo, Hovenweep and Canyon de Chelly National Monuments as well as a tour of Navajo Tribal Park, Monument Valley.

Now for the particulars!

Our first stop after leaving San Diego was Wupatki National Monument (www.nps.org/wupa) just north of Flagstaff, Arizona.  This national monument includes several impressive ancient pueblo sites.  We photographed at the main Wupatki Pueblo, the Box Canyon dwellings and Lomaki Pueblo.  The pueblos at Wupatki National Monument were built and occupied about 800 years ago.  For fun, Bruce and I tried to photograph moon rise with Lomaki Pueblo in the foreground.  We had stopped to purchase some large flashlights in Flagstaff to "light-paint" the pueblo from the front.  I won't show the results as they were dismal.  But, it was fun trying.

Wupatki Pueblo

The next day, on our way to Blanding, Utah (www.blanding-ut.org) , we stopped briefly at Navajo National Monument (www.nps.org/nava) , just long enough to for some distant shots of Betatakin Dwellings from the overlook on Sandal Trail.  We reached our final destination, Blanding, later that afternoon.  There we settled into our cozy suit at Craig and Kathy Simpson's Stone Lizard Lodging (www.stonelizardlodging.com) and shopped  at Clark's grocery store for supplies.  Each morning of our weeklong stay started early with a cold breakfast, preparing lunches for the day, filling water bottles, loading camera gear, setting GPS coordinates, and applying generous portions of bug spray.

Betatakin Dwelling

Our experience on Cedar Mesa was not that of a typical, run-of-the-mill photo trip. Using the Stone Lizard as our "base camp" we day-tripped to the mesa each day.  I had created an itinerary that allowed travel to two or three archeological sites per day.  Typically, from the Stone Lizard it required anywhere from a half hour to a couple of hours to reach the dirt road turnoffs that lead to the trailheads.  Some of these dirt access roads required some serious four-wheel drive maneuvering.  After reaching the trailhead, the real work started.  I had selected sites that were within no more than a mile and a half from the trailhead.  Even with the GPS coordinates I had obtained, it was difficult to find our way to the cliff dwelling sites.  Many wrong turns were made as we followed poorly marked trails over slick-rock or were fooled following trails created by free ranging cattle.  Hiking the trails required scrambling up precarious sandstone ledges and trudging through dry sandy washes.

In all, we were able to visit 14 separate archeological sites during our exploration of Cedar Mesa and make a day trip to Hovenweep National Monument (www.nps.org/hove) to photograph the well preserved ruins there.  One of our favorite Cedar Mesa ruins was River House.  It was in this vicinity, along the north bank of the San Juan River, that the "Hole-In-The-Rock" pioneers bivouacked before ascending Comb Ridge.  The reallife story of these heroic pioneers is truly inspirational.  Another favorite ruin was Moon House.  The trek to this cliff dwelling was by far the most difficult.  The trail down the south rim of McCloyd Canyon descended steeply along precarious sandstone ledges to the slick-rock bottom of the canyon.  Only Jane and I made it to the bottom.  Bruce opted out after seeing the ruin on the north rim and anticipating the steep descent and climb back up.  Jane made it as far as the last scramble up the final jumble of boulders to the ledge with the Moon House ruin.  The last few hundred feet were nearly vertical and required full use of both hands to pull and maneuver through the rock fall.

River House Ruin Moon House Ruin

Monarch Cave Ruin

After a week of jarring four-wheel drive excursions and slick-rock scrambling, we were ready to head back to San Diego.  Satisfied with our accomplishments we bid adieu to Craig and Kathy at the Stone Lizard, taking our sore muscles, blisters and bug bites in stride.  Being the intrepid photographers we are, however, we could not go all the way back to California without stopping at the Navajo Tribal Park, Monument Valley (www.navajoparks.org)  and Canyon de Chelly National Monument (www.nps.gov/cach).  These stops were brief, but long enough to start us thinking about our next Indian country adventure.

Spyder Rock

Be sure to check the Cedar Mesa gallery for images from this adventure.  Also, if interested, I wholeheartedly suggest you read about the "Hole-In-The-Rock" expedition (www.nps.org/glca/historyculture/holeintherock.htm) .  It is a tale of true endurance, fortitude and perseverance.

In the March Madness blog I shared my experience photographing the little burrowing owls of the Imperial Valley.  Although I had seen several single birds, most of the owls I photographed at that time were mated pairs perched near their burrows.  That got me thinking that the breeding season was underway and perhaps there would be chicks in the near future.  To follow up on that hunch, I returned to the valley in early May.  This time Bob Miller of Southwest Birders (www.southwestbirders.com) joined and guided me through the maze of dirt tracks that crisscross the agricultural fields of the Imperial Valley.  After many hours of searching we had found many burrows and spotting fifty or more birds, but not chicks.  Finally, as our frustration and disappointment peaked, we stumbled upon a burrow with chicks.  With relief, using the vehicle as a blind, the two of us relaxed and watched very young birds slowly and tenuously emerge from their nest.

The next morning I returned to the burrow by myself and spent three hours, parked about 30 feet in front of the nest, watching and photographing.  The evening before, Bob and I had seen four chicks, but this morning only three came out of the nest.  They were roly-poly little balls of yellow down with a squatty heads accentuated by big, bright yellow eyes and a stubby beak.  As they emerged from the burrow, they were unsteady on their disproportionately long legs and stumbled about, flapping wings that exhibited only a hint of the feathers yet to develop. 

Three hours of watching the interactions of this owl family was exhilarating and exciting.  Of the three owlets, there was certainly an "alpha" chick who was normally first in line when the female brought a morsel of food to the burrow.  I suspect that the fourth owlet was the runt of the brood and not brave enough to venture from the underground nest chamber yet.  I watched as the female foraged for creepy-crawly things and brought them back for the chicks.  At one time she was only a few feet from the vehicle, totally involved in chasing down a tidbit.  During the entire three hours, the male owl only appeared once.  When he did, he came flying in with a loud alarm call that sent the three chicks scrambling back into the burrow.  The male and female stood guard in front of the burrow.  I could not determine the cause of the alarm, although I did notice a turkey vulture soaring low over an adjacent wheat field.

I have included the images from this photo shoot in the Burrowing Owls gallery.  I hope you enjoy them.  These images would make really fun photo-greeting cards.  Let me know if you would like some.  Just click the blue "send message" button to email me.