A red rock gully among the desert hills of the Panamint Range, Death Valley National Park.
This is anything but an iconic image, but I think that it is emblematic of a certain type of scene that is often seen in Death Valley National Park once you get out of the main Valley and up into the hills, especially during the brief spring season when the light can be a bit softer and the plants a bit (relatively speaking!) greener.
The photograph looks up a broad valley that is visible from along the road that rises from the main road through the Valley and climbs toward the Wildrose Canyon area. Here the elevation is high enough that the dry, sun-baked flat land of the Valley is nowhere to be found. Instead this is a country of large valleys and plateaus, cut in places (mostly at the bottom of canyons) but rocky outcroppings and gullies. This red rock gully is easily visible from the road, though the odds are that most people just drive right by. I had seen it on several drives past this spot before I thought to stop and photograph it, and I was fortunate to be there when the light seemed just right.
Dawn light on the based of the Cottonwood Mountains at the edge of Death Valley.
This is (yet another) one of those photographs that is the result of some odd combination of “planning” and serendipity. When I travel somewhere to do photography I often, though not always, have some ideas about certain types of subjects I would like to photograph or about ways I’d like to photograph them. On this visit to Death Valley I had a few such ideas in mind – one of them had to do with scenes that filled the frame with the rugged and forbidding and seemingly lifeless mountains and valleys and ridges of the place. Another had to do with photographing in the early light along the west side of the Valley, something I thought about but didn’t really try on my previous visit. This photograph and a few others like grew out of those ideas.
On the other hand, I wouldn’t have been in this spot at this moment if I had not had an electrical problem with my car! The night before I had returned to the campground from a bit of late shooting, parked the car, and went about my “camp business” before crawling into the tent and setting my alarm for an appropriate pre-dawn hour so that I could arrive at a particular location before the sun came up. The alarm went off at the appointed time, and a few minutes later I emerged from my tent and got into my car. It wouldn’t start. I soon realized that the car was electrically “dead” – no interior lights, etc. Since it was still completely dark, the idea of doing auto repair outside the tents and RVs of lots of other sleeping campers was out of the question, so I went back into my tent and speculated uncomfortably about the potential costs of towing and automobile repair in Death Valley.
Later, as the sky began to lighten, I heard other campers stirring. I got up – again – and opened the engine compartment to find that one of the battery cables had come off, perhaps as I drove a rather rough road the previous day! Relieved to find that this was something that I could fix, I reattached the cable, quickly got in the car, and figured I would see what I could salvage of the morning shoot. I headed west across the Valley toward Towne Pass, thinking about photographing some snow that was high on the ridge. As I drove I saw that the first light had still not quite reached the Valley floor along the base of the Cottonwood Range. I quickly found a slight rise along the road where the view wasn’t obstructed by desert plants, pulled over, put on the long lens, and made a few photographs as this beautiful light worked its way down the face of the range and began to work its way out across the giant wash along the edge of the Valley.
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.
Brilliantly colorful aspens ascend a hillside valley above the reflecting surface of a Sierra Nevada lake.
This absurdly colorful hillside above a small lake is a well-known autumn sight in the eastern Sierra above Bishop, California. If you hit it at just the right time and in just the right light, the colors can be almost hallucinogenic. (I’ve heard it called the “Cheetos forest,” for reasons that are probably pretty obvious.)
I’ve been there plenty of times, but have never quite hit the right combination of conditions to get a good shot of the color. I came very close a few years ago, arriving in the pre-dawn hours when there was just enough light to make out the river of color snaking up the small valley above the aspen forest near the lakeshore – but before the sun came up a snow squall swept through. I cowered in my car for half hour to escape the wind, and when I was able to get out and start shooting…. half the leaves that had been there 30 minutes earlier were gone!
The good fortune this time was not just that I was there when the color was strong, but it was also a matter of light and weather conditions. The day started out overcast, and things were looking a bit dull. But soon the clouds began to break up to the east (to the right in the photo) and bright but soft light began to filter though and between the clouds as if someone had set up a giant light panel to the east. Instead of photographing the entire hillside, I decided to photograph the horizontal layers rising from the reflections in the surface of the water, through the shoreline grasses and bushes, past the yellow/orange/gold aspens, and up the slope to the brilliant orange colors 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.
Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.
Manage Consent
To provide the best experiences, we use technologies like cookies to store and/or access device information. Consenting to these technologies will allow us to process data such as browsing behavior or unique IDs on this site. Not consenting or withdrawing consent, may adversely affect certain features and functions.
Functional
Always active
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
Preferences
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
Statistics
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
Marketing
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
