Tag Archives: mount

Photographs: Nature, Photographs: Owens Valley, Photographs: Sierra Nevada

Basin Mountain, Afternoon Light and Haze

December 6, 2010 G Dan Mitchell Leave a comment

Basin Mountain and the Sierra Nevada crest rise above Round Valley on a hazy afternoon.

There is a certain kind of afternoon light in the eastern Sierra that is hard to photograph – looking up at the range from Owens Valley into the afternoon sun the haze can be bluish and decrease detail and the light can be very bright. But it is a part of the experience of the “east side” that we all know, I think. I can’t say that I’ve tried to photograph it very often, but I stopped just off of highway 395 in the Round Valley area on this early October afternoon when I saw the rugged foothills rising above the sagebrush towards the Buttermilks and Basin Mountain and the Sierra crest around Mount Humphreys beyond.

For me, this is one sort of classic eastern Sierra view. Imagine a very warm or even hot afternoon. You are driving through high desert sagebrush country – which often surprises people who are headed to the Sierra and are thinking about high mountains and cool temperatures. The mountains to the west rise precipitously from the floor of Owens Valley, with peaks that can be nearly 10,000 feet higher than the lowlands in some places. You see snow on the peaks and sometimes on the slopes of the mountains. You know that there are places up there where you can park a car and walk out in cool mountain air and head up a trail through meadows and forests and cross a ridge into the alpine world – but the terrain gives little hint of this from below. The light gleaming on snow fields and rock projected into the sky reminds you of this other world high above.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.

Photographs: Nature, Photographs: Owens Valley, Photographs: Sierra Nevada

First Light Above the Buttermilks, Autumn Storm

November 8, 2010 G Dan Mitchell 5 Comments

A faint rainbow briefly glows in dawn light on the eastern escarpment of the Sierra Nevada above the Buttermilks as an autumn storm builds.

Since I wrote previously about acting on a hunch to be in this spot in time to catch a few minutes of dawn light, I won’t recount the whole thing here – though I would like to describe the phenomenon a bit more and perhaps make a point or two about light and opportunities.

The photograph is of the eastern escarpment of the Sierra Nevada above Bishop, California and was made on an early autumn morning of a day that brought one of the first winter-like storms of the season. I found myself in this spot (as described at the link) for the very few minutes during which this light was present – and afterwards the light was simply gone and the rest of the day was overcast and rainy. The circumstances have me thinking about a few things about light and “being there” at the right moment.

Sometimes, even on a “poor light day” – though I like overcast conditions! – there can be a few brief moments of exceptional light. Catching them involves some combination of anticipating that these moments might occur, being there, and – let’s admit it! – dumb luck. In this case, all three were at work. I did not know that this light would occur, but I knew that the conditions offered a possibility. A clearing in the clouds along the eastern horizon allowed a horizontal beam of light to briefly hit the mountains right at dawn. It began by striking the clouds above the Sierra crest, soon hit the highest peaks, moved across the face of the range, and within minutes the show ended with light on the high desert. The band was so narrow that only one of these subjects was generally illuminated at a time – and the whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than five or ten minutes.

That description might make it sound like I’m saying that I’m just plain great at predicting such things and planning to be there. Not quite! If you had asked me a few minutes earlier, when I made the spontaneous decision to abandon my previous plans and high-tail it out to this spot, what the odds were that I’d see light like this I might have estimated them at perhaps 10% or less. In other words, if I repeated this little adventure 10 times, I’d guess that I’d fail to see light like this nine out of ten times. However, if I only go for “sure bets” (which I’ll take when I can get them!) I know that I’ll miss lots of special conditions that are not subject to prediction.

Which brings up the subject of luck. I often read that one should be able to know in advance what the photograph will look like, and that careful and full preparation will lead to good photographs. Well, sort of, but maybe not quite in the way that some imply. (There is an element of “preparation” in all of this that I’ll write about eventually, but that is a different thing.) Frankly, these subjects are too complex and too fleeting and too unpredictable to be subject to that sort of careful and precise planning in any sort of consistently useful way. The photographer cannot make that small band of open sky appear along the horizon on an autumn morning when a storm is building along the crest – but if everything goes right a photographer might be there at the right moment, prepared to make a photograph of it.

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.

Photographs: Nature, Photographs: Owens Valley, Photographs: Sierra Nevada

Sunrise Rainbow and Virga Above the Buttermilks

November 3, 2010 G Dan Mitchell 4 Comments

Brief sunrise light produces a rainbow and virga over the Buttermilks in the eastern Sierra Nevada above Bishop, California.

I have a story to tell about this photograph and how it came about. I’ve been in the Buttermilks — the rounded hills between Bishop, California and the actual Sierra Nevada — on a number of previous occasions. I’ve photographed there in the early morning when the first light hits these hills and the peaks of the Sierra, and I have some potential images filed away in my mind, waiting for a time when the light is right. I also know the Sierra well enough – though certainly not completely nor perfectly! – that I can pick up on developing conditions that might not apparent to someone less familiar with the range.

On this early October morning I was camped up in the Bishop Creek drainage. The forecast was for rain and wind and, sure enough, during the night the wind picked up and it began to rain. I woke before dawn and at the first light it was apparent that it would be overcast. This is not necessarily a bad thing for photographing fall color, but it can mean that subjects that would otherwise work at dawn might need to wait. I was thinking about how to modify my aspen photography plans when I noticed a bit of incipient color in the still-dim clouds, and it occurred to me that a special set of conditions might occur. Although I couldn’t see to the east from this campground, I know that sometimes clouds above the Sierra end a ways to the east over or beyond the White Mountains, and when this happens there is a narrow band of clear sky right above the horizon — and if everything works out just right a strip of dawn light shines through this gap, first hitting the clouds and then working its way down from the peaks to the lower foothills before quickly disappearing and leaving very bland light.

No sure thing at all, but I decided to dash down the road (past the steady stream of aspen photographers streaming up the road!) and see if I could get to the Buttermilks in time. I left the main road and headed up a side road that I know, somewhat resenting a (very reasonable!) 25mph speed limit near some roadside residences as I began to see the clouds above the crest starting to light up. As I hit the last section of gravel road the sky began to glow and I sped up, heading for a specific spot where I had photographed this scene before. With seconds I saw the light pick out a band of virga (rain that does not reach the ground) and a rainbow began to form in front of the eastern escarpment as I arrived at the hilltop where I planned to shoot. I quickly set up my tripod and mounted the 70-200mm lens (which I already knew would be the right one for this shot) and literally ran up a nearby knoll which I knew would put the foreground hill in a decent place in the composition. I was ready just as the soft light hit the foreground and I made this photograph. Within a minute the rainbow as gone!

Sometimes you just get lucky…

This photograph is not in the public domain and may not be used on websites, blogs, or in other media without advance permission from G Dan Mitchell.

Photographs: Desert, Photographs: Nature, Photographs: Owens Valley, Photographs: Sierra Nevada

Morning Fog on Hot Creek, Mount Morrison

October 22, 2010 G Dan Mitchell 11 Comments

Finding this shot was just about as random a process as I can imagine. I was in the eastern Sierra to photograph aspens, and staying in Mammoth Lakes. I woke up very early without a really solid idea of where I’d shoot that morning, but started out heading for Rock Creek, where I had seen great aspen color a week earlier. As I left Mammoth and headed south on highway 395 I noticed low fog out in Owens Valley – Crowley Lake was pretty much covered and it appeared that there were bits of fog here and there above creeks and springs in the valley. This started to look more interesting to me than photographing aspens again, so I changed plans and headed out into Owens Valley, not knowing precisely where or what I might find but thinking it would involve fog and mist and early morning light.

I first stopped and photographed near a small pond along side the road. After shooting here a bit – mostly shots pointing back toward the Sierra crest – I recalled that I had been on some gravel roads a bit further north of my position, and I decided to do a bit of exploring. I turned off on the first road going north and followed it until I found another interesting road that dropped down into a small valley and crossed a creek on an old rickety bridge – I later figured out that this was Hot Creek. A cloud of mist and fog was lying above the path of the creek, periodically thickening and thinning, and because it was not deep the morning sun was still somewhat lighting the scene through the fog. At times the peaks of the Sierra crest would gradually resolve through the fog. I set up and waited and made some exposures as the fog rose and fell, increased and decreased.

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” (Heyday Books) is available directly from him.

Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.