A monument of driftwood lumber on a Lost Coast beach.
On our recent visit to the far Northern California redwood country, we did a bit of exploring in places that were new to us. (While there are no hard and fast rules about this, I often enjoy trips that combine the discovery of new subjects with repeat visits to more familiar places.) One reason was simply that it is useful to head off in a different direction when the thing you thought you might photograph is not in an ideal state. But we also made some specific advance plans concerning locations like the one in this photograph.
Roughly between the Fort Bragg and Eureka areas there is a remarkable section of the Pacific Coast that is nicknamed the “Lost Coast.” Here the main highways (101 and 1) divert inland to avoid some particularly rugged sections. Few roads make it to the coast, and those that do tend to be narrow, twisty, and a bit less traveled. We drove one of those roads on a large loop that took us to and along this section of almost completely deserted coastline.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer and visual opportunist. His book, “California’s Fall Color: A Photographer’s Guide to Autumn in the Sierra” is available from Heyday Books, Amazon, and directly from G Dan Mitchell.
Pilings along the waterfront photographed at night, Mare Island Naval Ship Yard, California.
This is another photography from my nighttime visit to the historic Mare Island Naval Ship Yard with friends from The Nocturnes in early March of this year. The subject here includes some old and worn pilings along the edge of a ship launching ramp and the still water smoothed by the long exposure necessary to photograph here at night.
This particular spot only recently became accessible (at least without jumping a bunch of cyclone fences or getting someone to open the gate) when waterfront access was created near the ship yard museum. An area that had formerly been off-limits was opened to provide a way to get to the edge of the water, and this path parallels this ramp and the extensive structures alongside. In this photograph I made a color balancing choice that is a bit unusual for me when it comes to night photography in general and shooting at Mare Island in particular. One of the things that I enjoy about the night photography environment at Mare Island is that there are many different types of lighting, each having different color characteristics. Some are merely warmish “tungsten” like colors, others are garish yellows and greens, a few are blue, and the wash of light from nearby Vallejo and even the natural light of the moon can enter the mix. Because of this, I often simply go with the wild colors of the environment here. This scene is lit by grossly yellow sodium vapor lamps, and the “natural” coloration of the scene is quite intensely saturated. For this image I decided to color adjust this much closer to what might be regarded as a more neutral light color.
G Dan Mitchell is a California photographer whose subjects include the Pacific coast, redwood forests, central California oak/grasslands, the Sierra Nevada, California deserts, urban landscapes, night photography, and more. Blog | About | Flickr | Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | 500px.com | LinkedIn | Email
Black and white photograph of the ruins of an abandoned mining cabin high in the Panamint Mountain Range of Death Valley National Park.
There are a number of things that make Death Valley National Park, to the best of my knowledge, rather unique. One is the extensive history of human habitation inside the park boundaries, quite a bit of which is visible – though some takes a bit more effort and attention to spot. The history of mining in the park is well-known, and many of the icons of the park have connections to this history. If you visit Furnace Creek, for example, you cannot miss the displays of old wagons and so forth used to move ore out of the Valley. It doesn’t take a lot of careful study to figure out that many park roads originated in an era of prospecting and mining. There are several well-known examples of structures left over from that era in and around the park, too.
It is largely because of this history that many areas of this national park are (or have been – some are now reverting to wilderness status) accessible by gravel road or four-wheel-drive routes. I would argue that you can’t really get to know this park if you just stick to the paved roads and the points of interest that they access. If you drive any of these other routes and keep your eyes open you will often be surprised by the left overs from relatively recent mining and prospecting, much of which isn’t really written about or described in the usual guides to the park. (And I’m not going to offer specific details about where to find such places here, since I don’t want to be even a little bit responsible for damage to them. If you do visit, treat them with care and respect.)
As I drove along a gravel road in one of the many mountain ranges of the park, returning from a site that is somewhat well-known, I began to notice evidence of fairly recent mining and prospecting. Faint tracks depart from the main “road” and cross valleys and hills, here and there tailing piles and mine entrances are visible, and sometimes you come across old structures such as cabins, storage bunkers, or wooden towers above mine entrances. I spotted the ruins of this old cabin above the road at one point and decided to walk up and investigate.
I’m almost always surprised at how “modern” many of the traces found at these places seem to be. I guess I am expecting something from the 1800s, but quite a few of these places look like they were build and occupied much later than that. I find modern things like linoleum flooring or modern-looking nails or electrical wire in many of them. There obviously isn’t much left of this cabin now, but from the detritus lying around near it and the form and materials found here, it must have been a reasonably comfortable place to live. As I walk around such places I often try to imagine what it must have been like to wake up every morning in this silent desert and head out for another day of physical labor.
