A Sierra Crest peak stands against the sky above a rocky basin and small lake.
This photograph comes from almost a decade ago, when a group of friends ascended into this alpine region just east of the Sierra Nevada crest in the John Muir Wilderness, and area of rocky slabs, talus fields, lakes, and high peaks. We spent several days camped here, exploring nearby terrain. I hope to return again before long, which is perhaps why I resurrected this older photograph.
These areas just below and east of the peaks of the crest present steep and rugged country, with the highest peaks sometimes rising quickly to 7000 feet or more above the valley to the east of the range. This is an area of morning light, as the peaks and high valley generally face toward the rising sun. Late in the day, on the other hand, the sun generally drops behind the peaks well before sunset, leaving soft and shadowed light behind.
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 and Amazon.
Photographer Keith Walklet hikes past subalpine lakes in the Yosemite National Park backcountry.
This is an extra fun post for me to share because it ties a whole bunch of strings together — and it somehow manages to memorialize literally the first instant of my friendship with Keith Walklet. Back n 2008 I had heard from Charles Cramer that he and a group of fellow photographers would be spending a week or so in a Yosemite backcountry location that was very familiar to me, as part of a long term project that took them into the backcountry to make photographs every year. I mentioned that I might just backpack in on my own and look them up. I arrived in the neighborhood, but couldn’t find them, so I went ahead and set up my own solo camp and got to work exploring and photographing. A day or two later I was descending cross-country from a high, rocky lake when I spotted a heavily-laden figure coming up the valley, skirting a lake and heading my direction. Judging from the absurdly large load he was carrying I knew it was either an overburdened backpacker… or a photographer. I suspected the latter.
I quickly made a couple of exposures as he approached — mostly thinking that the figure in this landscape might be interesting. I made this photograph less than a minute before our first meeting. I had never met him, but I guessed he might be part of Charlie’s group and he confirmed. We spoke a bit — I don’t recall many details of the conversation aside from finding out where they were camped and that he was probably heading to the lake I had just left — and then I continued down canyon as he continued up. A day later I caught up with the group at their camp as I began my walk back out to the trailhead. This was the end of my trip, but it was the beginning of a longer, fulfilling journey with this band of friends: Keith, Scot, Mike, Karl, Charlie, and occasionally others. The next summer I hiked in to meet them for a couple days at their next location. The summer after that I still went in on my own, but walked with them and camped with the group for several days. And the next summer I began to participate in these wonderful expeditions every summer, spending a week or more in the glorious Sierra backcountry with a wonderful group of photographers and friends. (And, yes, we’ll be doing it again later this summer. I’ll perhaps have more to say about that later this season.)
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 and Amazon.
The trunks and branchs of a group of closely spaced trees high in the Sierra Nevada backcountry.
A simple photograph of some tree trunks, of a sort you could perhaps find in locations all over the higher portions of the Sierra Nevada, can evoke a surprising number of memories and associations. While I might walk past such a thing and not take much notice, I have often spent time in the company of such trees — pausing for lunch on the trail, living among them in a high country campsite.
Some of these memories are general, which is not a surprise given that such trees are everywhere. In that light, I’ve often contemplated how such trees seem to occupy a middle ground between the relatively short lives of creatures like ourselves and the “deep time” of rocks. The trees live hundreds of years, and as they adapt to their rooted locations they can sometimes seem to have more in common with the rocks than with us. Other associations are quite specific — and this photograph takes me back to a specific location along the JMT, a place I’ve camped a number of times, and to the people I was traveling with and those we encountered on a couple of specific days.
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 and Amazon.
Tightly laced tree trunks, Southern Sierra Nevada.
This is an older photograph that has languished in my raw file archives for nearly a decade. Back in 2010 I was on a long Southern Sierra backcountry trip with a group of friends — roughly speaking we made a giant semi-circle around Mount Whitney, starting southeast of that peak and coming out over a week later at a point considerably north. A milestone on this trip was realizing — finally! — that re-climbing that iconic peak is less profitable than spending time in many other equally beautiful places in the Sierra. At several points on this trip we found ourselves in lonely, less-visited spots, and I treasure the trip for that reason. These trees were at one of our campsites, in a location essentially right at timberline.
Everyone’s work habits are unique, but for me it is important to periodically go back and look through older photographs that didn’t “go anywhere” at the time. I inevitably find images that are worth the second look. I’ve often pondered how and why this happens. Among my theories: perhaps I simply moved on to quickly to other projects at the time, possibly I didn’t really understand how to “see” the image, my interests and perspectives have changed. Regardless, this is one reason that I’m hesitant to delete a lot of raw files — all too often I’ve gone back and found something that I was glad I kept!
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 and Amazon.
Photographer and visual opportunist. Daily photos since 2005, plus articles, reviews, news, and ideas.
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