The final evening alpenglow illuminates the summit ridge of Mount Conness and the west face of Medlicott Dome in the Yosemite National Park high country.
This will be my final photograph of Mount Conness from the evening of June 18, the day that Tioga Pass Road opened this year and the day of one of the most spectacular Yosemite high country sunsets in recent memory. It will be the final both in the sense that I think I’ve now shared the best of the group of images of this sunset and in the sense that it was literally my final exposure of the evening.
The short back-story is that what started out as a fairly unimpressive evening (at least in the photographic sense) transformed over a short period into something extraordinary as the sun dropped to the horizon west of the Sierra and illuminated the clouds from below, creating rare and very special alpenglow conditions over a wide area of the Sierra. (During the week that followed quite a few people commented on this amazing light, which they had witnessed from locations as distant as Mono Lake on the east side and the Central Valley to the west.)
When I made this photograph the show was coming to an end. At this point the sun had already set a few minutes earlier – the exposure was made around 8:45 p.m. – and the light was low enough to require a six-second exposure. While it may seem like Mount Conness (the tallest peak near the left on the skyline) and other features are receiving direct sunlight, this is actually the remaining post-sunset glow in the western sky.
Mammoth Peak and the Kuna Crest loom above as the Tuolumne River overflows its banks and floods surrounding meadows on a frosty spring morning, Yosemite National Park.
As I drove from Lee Vining Canyon over Tioga Pass and toward the Tenaya Lake area early in the morning, I came to the Tuolumne River where it passes under the bridge beneath the highway in the Tuolumne Meadows area. Just at about this moment the sun was rising high enough to begin to warm the frost covered meadow, at least the parts of it that were not flooded by the high water of the Tuolumne. Overnight it had risen almost to the level of the bridge and was so high that after passing under the bridge a small portion split off and headed into the trees to the right of the main branch. In a few weeks this flooded area and its reflecting surface will be gone, and there will just be a meadow and people will hike though it.
The backlight comes across the shoulder of Mammoth Peak, the high point near the end of the long snow-covered ridge of Kuna Crest, which runs parallel to Lyell Canyon toward Donohue Pass and the Sierra Crest.
Dawn light on the peaks of Kuna Crest is reflected in a meltwater channel in the frozen surface of Tioga Lake at Tioga Pass.
On the weekend that Tioga Pass opened this year, I spent the “opening day” photographing along highway 120 in the park. That night I stayed in Aspen Camp in Lee Vining Canyon, a standby for me at almost all times of year when I photograph in the area and Tuolumne Meadows campground is not open. (That NPS campground typically opens a few weeks after the pass opens and then closes in late September.) The next morning I was up fairly early, planning to photograph more or less in the Tenaya Lake area a bit after sunrise. I drove up toward the pass and soon came to Tioga Lake, which lies next to the road just below the pass.
I had noticed the striking veined patterns formed by the melting ice the previous day but had not photographed them. When I saw them in the morning I spontaneously decided to stop and see what I could do with the subject, especially since it looked like the ice was starting to pick up a bit of color from the pre-dawn light. I quickly got out and set up and found a way to line up the melted channel in the icy surface with the peaks of the distant Kuna Crest inside the park. As the light began to strike this ridge its color reflected on the frozen lake and I made a few photographs before moving on.
The last evening light illuminates domes near Tenaya Lake and the summit of Mount Conness with briilliantly colorful alpenglow, Yosemite National Park.
The tall peak at upper left is the summit of Mount Conness, one of the highest peaks in Yosemite National Park. The peak is located on the park boundary and the Sierra Nevada crest a bit north of Tioga Pass, and is visible from many places in the Tuolumne/Tioga high country. It is also a popular destination for peak baggers. The left foreground granite dome is the lower face of Polly Dome, which drops to the shoreline of Tenaya Lake. The left slope of Pywiak dome is visible in the shadows at lower right and beyond is the more brightly illuminated Medlicott dome.
I forgive you if you don’t believe the colors that you see in this photograph. I barely believe them myself, and I was (obviously!) there for the show. What happened on this evening was a near perfect example of a light phenomenon that Sierra photographers watch for and are occasionally lucky enough to experience. I have learned to see the signs that indicate that this light is possible, but also to understand that even when the conditions offer this potential that they rarely deliver.
On certain cloudy evenings in the Sierra it appears that there will be no sunset color – everything is hazy and drab and washed out. But if things play out just right, this very set of drab conditions (that induce some photographers to put away their gear too soon!) can produce some of the most striking and intense color possible if a few things fall into place just right. On this evening I had stopped for a moment at Olmsted Point, thinking to photograph ice-covered Tenaya Lake with a long lens and including the mass of Mount Conness in the distance. When I arrived there, things were about as unpromising as they could possibly be. A dull, greenish-blue haze hung in the air, overcast washed out the light, and Conness was obscured by clouds. I had actually put my gear back in the car when I looked back up and noticed that the summit of Conness had briefly poked through the clouds, accentuating its bulk and the sense that it towered over the foreground mountains. The light was still awful (I have the photos to prove it! ;-) but I thought I’d see if I could get something with the peak emerging from its shroud.
But still nothing much happened. I turned the camera to photograph some nearby trees and a blackbird that was looking for snacks. Then I noticed that there was some brighter light to the southwest and I began to consider the possibility that the cloud cover might end a bit to the west – and that is requirement #1 for the light conditions I’m describing. If the cloud deck ends to the west, as the sun reaches the horizon it may briefly break under the clouds and send brilliantly colorful light up into the clouds in the Sierra from below, creating a miles-wide light panel of the most astonishing colors. But still, it was hazy and the peaks were shrouded in clouds. But then I noticed that the clouds around Conness were beginning to drift off to the east and thin a bit. I mentioned (knock on wood!) to one of the other photographers that there was a possibility of “miracle light,” but that I wasn’t making any promises!
Then the thinning clouds began to pick up a slight pink tinge and the left side of Conness began to get some light directly from the west. Then, within a minute or so, the colors went absolutely crazy. People around me were audibly gasping as the color changed. At one point several of us spontaneously looked up to the west when we noticed the light suddenly increase out of the corners of our eyes. At the same time, the clouds almost completely dissipated from the area around the peak and because the whole sky was filled with brilliantly colorful clouds, this light began to suffuse even the depths of the canyon and slopes facing away from the sunset with this amazing light.
Never put your camera away until the last light is gone. :-)
