Snagged

Dances With Coyotes IPurchase Print

We base camped a few nights at the edge of the dry lake, one of the rare times that we camped on the flats instead of tucked away in a canyon where we could shelter from the fierce Mojave winds. Every morning before dawn I would grab my camera and tripod and hike out into the brutal 25°F darkness, silent except for the crunch of my boots on the frozen ground and the occasional coyote howl.

Lone Mesquite at DawnPurchase Print
During the day we ran Jeep trails. We would get back to camp late in the afternoon, and I would wander through the dazzling gold of dried grasses and mesquite trees at the edge of the lake that shimmered in the late day light. The brilliant gold is what attracted me to the location in the first place and the reason for camping here. I would stay out long after the sun set, then head back to camp for dinner before heading back out for night sky photography. I don't usually have much time for sleeping when I'm out in the wild.

I love wandering in the desert at night.

Although it was the brilliant gold grasses and trees that initially attracted me to this location, I found myself repeatedly drawn to this majestic dead tree and I photographed it every time I went out. I guess you could say I was snagged by a snag.

Dances With Coyotes IIPurchase Print

Western wabi-sabi

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There's a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
~ LeonardCohen, "Anthem"

Exploring California's Mining History in the El Paso Mountains

We camped with some friends at Dove Springs in January and couldn't pass up the chance to hit the beautifully scenic El Paso Mountains. This wilderness area in the Mojave Desert is located at the far southeastern end of the Sierra Nevada Range and has a wealth of mining history. Several old mines, cabins and mining camps can be found. Seeing the Burro Schmidt Tunnel and learning the story behind it alone is enough to justify the trip (I've visited the tunnel many times just because it's so cool!). We tried to convince our friends, who all had Jeeps of their own, to join us on the trail, but they weren't motivated.

You can read about it, and they can see what they missed, by reading my latest article on DrivingLine - Exploring El Paso Mountains: Mojave Off-Road Trail Review
I'm still trying to figure out the best way to integrate my work on other sites with own website and blog. I realized that I've been so focused on getting photos and stories to clients that I've hardly even bothered to upload photos to my own site for far too long, let alone keep my blog updated. Kind of makes it looks like I haven't been doing anything, when the truth is the exact opposite. I've been trying to keep the list of my published articles updated on a regular basis, but if I don't tell anyone that the page has been updated, you don't know to look. So I hope you'll click through and read the story on DrivingLine and leave me a comment either here or there!

Some of my Milky Way photos were done at the Holly Cleanser Mine mentioned in the article. The mine is a very cool place to visit after dark and it was a lot of fun to play around with lighting the old mining equipment to create an alien-looking landscape.

I previously wrote about three other trails in the El Paso Mountains many years ago here on my own blog - Last Chance Canyon, Sheep Springs and Nightmare Gulch. Nightmare Gulch has since been closed on a temporary permanent basis, so I feel fortunate that I was able to visit this area while it was still open. We had hoped it would re-open some day, but it doesn't appear that it will happen any time soon.

Have you done any of the trails in the El Paso Mountains? Which one is your favorite? Any good ones that I have't hit yet?

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Benedicto:
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome,
dangerous, leading to the most amazing view.
May your rivers flow without end,
meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells,
past temples and castles and poets’ towers
into a dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl,
through miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock,
blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone,
and down again into a deep vast ancient unknown chasm
where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled cliffs,
where deer walk across white sand beaches,
where storms come and go
as lightning clangs upon the high crags,
where something strange and more beautiful
and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams
waits for you –
beyond that next turning of the canyon walls.

– Edward Abbey

Crusty Bunny Ranch - The Rest of the Story

It's still a bit strange writing my stories and sharing my photos on another publication. My trail reports are mostly over there now instead of here on my blog. I have to honor a 90-day embargo period (on the story, not the photos), so I'm cautious about sharing my trail stories here on my blog or on social media. Keeping a story within the designated word limits can be a challenge, too. There's always so much more I want to say, to share. My first draft is consistently 500+ words over the limit and I start ruthlessly slashing anything that isn't essential. "Just the facts ma'am.". That takes all of the character out, everything that makes it an adventure, and I often wonder if I shouldn't instead leave in the little vignettes of life on the trail, throw in some drama and leave out all of the boring facts, especially after I read someone else's blog post or a magazine article describing the drama and danger that goes into someone's photography or desert adventures and I realize that the things they describe are the things I take for granted.

What prompted these thoughts was coming across the blog of a young man who decided to channel his inner Chris McCandless by driving his Range Rover down from Portland to homestead in an abandoned cabin in the Mojave. He lasted three days. The drama and adventure of those three days provided enough fodder for many blog posts, culminating in many more posts about how he was sure he had been exposed to Hantavirus and was going to die any minute. He was a good writer and I found his posts entertaining, but I knew exactly where he had stayed. I knew that not half a mile from the cabin was a location that saw a steady stream of visitors on the weekends. And so I just had a hard time taking his daring adventure as seriously as he wanted. But he sure was good at writing drama and drama makes for an entertaining read.

The thing is, if you're going to venture out into the unknown in desolate areas, sooner or later shit is going to happen. It might be big shit or it might be little shit, but it's going to happen. If you venture out into the desert unprepared when it happens you're going to be miserable or you're going to die. Or you're going to die a miserable death. When you're prepared, mentally/physically/supplies, it doesn't seem like such a big thing. That's why I live by two mottos: "The only difference between an ordeal and an adventure is your attitude." and "Improvise, Adapt, Overcome". But acting as if it's no big deal doesn't make for a good story, so I think that going forward I need to start playing up the drama a bit more and convince you of how fearless and adventurous I really am!

In a couple days the story of my visit to the Crusty Bunny Ranch will be published on DrivingLine. What's left out of the story is that it rained the day before we left and apparently our firewood got wet (which somebody failed to mention when he packed it). Anyone who has been married any length of time will recognize the ensuing conversation that took place over the smoking wood which began with "Why didn't tell you me the wood was wet so we could pick up some dry wood?" and deteriorated down to "We're miles from civilization in the middle of nowhere in the desert and it's cold and we have no wood ^&%$$*" until an hour had been wasted watching him attempt to start a fire with wet wood. When you try to burn wet wood the only thing it does is smoke, a lot.








I didn't get to say that I then had the idea to check the cabin for firewood since there was a working fireplace inside and the cabin was somewhat cared for. Of course that job went to the person who packed the wet wood. By now it was pitch dark. There was a heavy cloud cover and no moon so it was really dark, desert dark. Off he went, flashlight in hand. I was certain that he would find dry wood somewhere near the cabin and our problem would be solved. He came back carrying one small piece and said he wasn't going near the cabin again. While he was inside something in the back room spooked him. This man has explored caves, mine shafts, abandoned cabins and ghost towns in the dark for years and has never once been spooked, but this time he got spooked. And he was so spooked that he got me spooked haha! We managed to get a small and very smokey fire going for a short while, it didn't last much longer than an hour, long enough to cook dinner, eat and clean up. The cloud cover was too heavy to see the Milky Way or many stars for night photography, so with nothing better to do we turned in early. And we promptly found out that his air mattress sprung a leak. A major leak. He spent a miserable night sleeping (trying to) on the ground.

It wasn't until the next morning that I took some time to read through the log books at the cabin.





I found the log entry of another intrepid desert traveler who also got spooked one night in the cabin. There was some joking that it was probably one of the wild burros in the area but they thought for sure it was Sasquatch. I later found their online blog post about this same incident, something obviously had them very spooked. There are no rumors of the Crusty Bunny Ranch being haunted but then again there isn't much info online about the cabin (or the mine) all, and I thought it weird that two people who were very used to this type of environment both got spooked here.

I didn't get to say that I had planned to do my holiday card shoot here. We had originally thought to string the lights on the cabin but we couldn't figure out a way that would work with the supplies we had on hand (having a ladder would've helped!) and so we diligently sought out a fine looking Joshua Tree in a scenic location that was close enough to the trail where we could run an extension cord to the inverter in the Jeep. We carefully (not carefully enough) strung the lights and waited for sunset. It was a bit cloudier than I would have liked but still colorful and I continued shooting until twilight ended, not entirely happy but hoping that something would be close enough to my vision. When we tried to take the lights down the Joshua Tree refused to give up its hold, so we decided we would get them in the morning before we headed out rather than fight with them in the dark.

Except that we forgot about them the next morning (until we were twenty miles away) so they are still there. My home will have a few less strands of light this year but maybe somebody else can enjoy them. If you happen to visit the Crusty Bunny look from the cabin toward the beautiful scene of sand dunes and snow-topped mountains. Find the large Joshua Tree closest to the trail you took in, it's not very far, maybe a half mile. If you have an inverter go ahead and plug in the lights and enjoy. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy New Year, Happy New Day, Happy Beautiful World!

I also didn't get to mention that our adventure was cut short when the shutter failed on my camera on the second day. After winding our way through the Kingston Range Wilderness, the North Mesquite Wilderness and then the Mesquite Wilderness and trying to decide where we wanted to spend the night, I decided I wanted to swing by to visit the Mojave Cross in the Cima region of the Mojave National Preserve. The last time I had visited it was still covered in plywood, and now with the legalities finally settled the cross was standing tall in all it's glory. I hadn't taken two shots before I got the error message and nothing I tried would clear it. I had my backup camera set up as Jeep Cam 1 for another project and hadn't intended to use it as my primary. With no dry wood for a campfire, a busted air mattress, little sleep the night before, the sun dropping low in the sky and now a non-functioning camera we decided it would probably be best to head for home. I don't mind a few challenges but sometimes you have to decide that it might not be smart to keep pressing your luck.



My final thoughts when I got back home and started going through my photos was how much damage seems to be taking place recently to places and properties in remote locations. Vandalism has always been a problem but lately it seems to be escalating. Blog posts and trail reports on the Crusty Bunny just a few years ago show it in much better shape. A friend had photographed this rocking horse a few years ago and I had hoped to use it as a subject for night photography, but I found it almost completely destroyed, smashed to pieces. I picked it up, put it back where it belonged and tried to piece it together the best I could. The log book in the cabin indicated that the windows had only recently been broken. A fellow traveler kindly took the time to board them up to prevent damage to the interior of the cabin from the elements. I was surprised at how many people cared enough to put some work into maintaining the place. So it's just an old abandoned miner's cabin...well it's stood in place unharmed for many (60+?) years, it's part of our cultural (mining) history and it provides safe haven for anyone traveling through the area who might need some shelter. I think about the recent tagging at remote locations in Joshua Tree in California and at Red Rock Canyon in Nevada, the damage at Death Valley's Racetrack from people walking on it when it's wet and stealing the stones, the toppling of a 200-million year old rock formation at Utah's Goblin State Park, and the graffiti I found on the tufa at Trona Pinnacles a few months ago. I don't understand people who damage and destroy just for the sake of doing so.

Photographers have notoriously been reluctant to share the exact location of special places and it's always disturbed me a bit because I think everyone should be able to enjoy special places. I think that my eight years of blog posts about these places is proof of how much I care about them. None of these places is truly secret, the information is there for those who are willing to seek it out. But I do believe that the internet and social media has made information more accessible, and that's a good thing and a bad thing. National Park Service records show that 9,000 landmarks have been vandalized since 2009, and that only accounts for park property. Media reports blame it on social media and people bragging about their "accomplishments" but I think that accessibility of location information plays a major role. I don't want to be part of the problem by making locations too easy to find for those who don't deserve the privilege. The Crusty Bunny Ranch is located in a wilderness area that is one of the most ecologically diverse regions of the Mojave and it is incredibly beautiful, easily one of my most favorite locations. I hate the thought that hoards of people in SUVs might travel out there with no respect for the environment. And I found myself reluctant to name to the trail in my article for DrivingLine or even name the specific area of the Mojave. There are enough hints that anyone could find the information if they wanted. The main trail is public information but it's not that easy to find when you're out there. The directions/coordinates to the spur trail that leads to the cabin is not quite as easy to find, but it's out there for those who know where to look. I've been thinking about exactly how much information I want to share and that maybe I'll just let others provide specific locations and directions if they are inclined to do so. Sadly it's even making me rethink my image keywording and captioning, as I often find myself thinking that I don't want specific location information in the metadata, especially when I'm sharing on social media. I have never and will never embed gps coordinates in my photos. I will always be eternally grateful to the people who do share and make it easier for me to find interesting places to visit, I love reading their blogs and trail reports and I hope they don't stop. But I think that enough people are sharing the info that maybe I don't need to add to it.

The Mojave Cross Revisited

The Mojave Cross Memorial in 2013
While in the eastern Mojave last week I had to stop by and see the Mojave Cross finally uncovered. The last time I visited this location in 2009 the cross was covered with plywood while a 13-year legal battle over its constitutionality played out in the federal court system.

After the first World War many veterans moved to the eastern Mojave to recover from the physical and psychological injuries of the war, becoming prospectors or ranchers. The Mojave Cross was originally erected in 1934 as memorial to WWI veterans by the local VFW and was cared for by J. Riley Bremby, a WWI veteran who had a mining camp nearby.The land was later acquired by the government in 1994 as part of the Mojave National Preserve. A retired park system employee who lived out of state filed a lawsuit in 1999 to have the cross removed. After the long drawn-out legal battle it was finally decided in 2010 that ownership of a one-acre parcel of land would be transferred to the VFW in a land swap for 5 acres elsewhere in the Mojave (donated by a private party) and the cross was allowed to stay. The cross was stolen within days of the verdict. It was found two years later tied to a fence post in the San Francisco Bay area. The veterans decided to start fresh and built a new white iron cross, this time filled with concrete to make it harder to steal. On Veterans Day in 2012 it was dedicated with much ceremony.

Now the location is cabled off, with signs clearly marking it as private property and as a war memorial, both at the entrance and embedded into the rock. When I visited in 2009 it was just a simple cross on a rocky outcropping (although boarded up) in the middle of nowhere with a few flags tucked into the crevices. Now it's fences and signs.


The Mojave Cross Memorial in 2009
I came across a statue of Buddha somewhere in the desert along my travels. Who knows if it was on private or public land, the Mojave is such a patchwork of public and private ownership that the only way to know for sure is to check a parcel map. I wasn't offended that someone whose faith didn't exactly match mine had traveled the same ground I was traveling and had left something behind. I hope that some day we understand that tolerance is about understanding and appreciating each others' differences, not trying to squash them or fence them off.

Chasing a World Record - 136 degrees at Death Valley

When I received a phone call early morning of Saturday June 29th telling me that I could not retain my title of Desert Queen unless I was in Death Valley when it broke the world record for hottest temperature ever recorded on earth, I only had to think about it for a few minutes before setting about to make it a reality. The official record for the hottest temperature ever recorded on earth was 134° Fahrenheit set in Death Valley on July 10, 1913. With a major heatwave taking place in the southwest there was much talk and anticipation that the record could be broken. I have some crazy photographer friends who love the desert as much as I do and what started as some joking around turned into talk about when we believed it would happen, IF it happened. We agreed it would most likely happen late Sunday afternoon, Ed Bannister offered to drive since his car had just been serviced and was in top shape (and the rest of us drive gas hogs that make a 600+ mile round trip day run to Death Valley just a bit pricey) and plans were set.

With Ed at the wheel and Peter Tellone riding shotgun (John Moore backed out at the last minute and will never forgive himself for missing out on all the fun), coolers full of water and electrolyte drinks, camera bags and tripods, shade tarps just in case, survival kits and snacks, we set out for Death Valley late Sunday morning so we would arrive mid-afternoon when we anticipated the temperature would be the highest. I would never do something this crazy with just anyone, all of us have years of desert wilderness experience, were well prepared and had a good idea of what to expect.

We went straight to Badwater, at -282 feet below seawater it is one of the hottest, driest places on earth. Well-hydrated we stepped out of the nice air-conditioned car straight into Hell. No joke. If you think you know hot because you've been out and about in 120° weather let me tell you that doesn't even compare. Badwater had a small crowd of people with temperature gauges and the general consensus on temperature readings on Sunday afternoon was 136°. The ground temperature recordings were coming in at 176°-200°F. Someone was cooking an egg in a frying pan on the ground. One man reported that he got a reading of 140° a mile down the road. It was surreal.




We were okay for the first ten minutes but CNN had a crew from Atlanta there and they asked to interview us. "Sure" we said...but they were broadcasting live and we had to wait, and wait, and wait. I made the mistake of taking a walk out onto the brilliant blazing salt flats and BAM it hit me. Back to the car to cool down, but an idling car doesn't cool down very well. Drink water, ice cold soaking wet bandanna on neck, more water and I finally caught my breath enough to head back out. At those temperatures it doesn't take long for your brain to start shutting down. Our cameras were too hot to touch within minutes but to Canon's credit they kept right on shooting even though they are only rated to 104°F (all of us are Canon shooters). I did however see significance noise with my 7D due to the overheated sensor and a marked loss in sharpness. The sharpness issue was most likely due to heat waves radiating through the air. The ground was so hot that if we tried to get low to compose a shot the heat hit us in the face like a ton of bricks and if we forgot and put a knee down it instantly burned. None of us could concentrate on shooting, we were just pointing our cameras and clicking. Bottles of ice cold water kept appearing in my hands like magic as Ed made sure we all stayed hydrated. I kept the wet bandanna around my neck and it would dry out within minutes. CNN finally did the interview and I let Peter handle it alone because I was afraid I might pass out on camera and he's a self-described media whore any way. I think Ed had retreated to the car by then. We were all ready to escape at this point.

On to Devil's Golf Course, a large salt pan on the floor of Death Valley that are the remains of a lake that evaporated over 2000 years ago. It was just as hot here; we took a few photos, posed for a couple shots, Peter cut his knee on the brutal surface and started bleeding. We still hadn't really recovered from Badwater so we didn't last long here.


Ed Bannister photographing Devil's Golf Course, Death Valley

Me at Devil's Golf Course, courtesy of Peter Tellone

We got the bright idea to drive up Artist's Palette on our way to the Visitor Center to photograph the thermometer. We were laughing and joking, having a great time as our core body temps slowly came back to normal when Ed announced that the car's temperature gauge was too hot. There was instant silence as we all stared out at the vast nothingness around us. This would not be a good place to have a problem. Windows down, A/C off, we knew we should turn on the heat but none of could bring ourselves to do it...we were almost at the top. There was no talking until we reached the summit. Once we started downhill the car's temperature returned to normal and we all breathed a huge sigh of relief as we settled in for the drive to the Visitor Center in Furnace Creek.

The Visitor Center was abuzz with excitement. People were posing for photos with the thermometer, media was there, the park staff was busy answering questions and every was waiting with anticipation to see if the record would be broken. We hung out chatting with people, taking advantage of the air conditioning to let our body temps return to normal. They have a very cool large 3D topographical map of the park inside and I had fun showing some of the trails I had done in my jeep. One of the park rangers put out a shallow bowl of water for a distressed bird and I remembered the story of an entire flock of birds dropping dead during the record-setting heatwave in 1913.

The thermometer at the Visitor Center showed 132°F but the rangers cautioned us that because it is directly in the sun it is not an official temperature. The official weather service thermometer is a few miles down the road. I don't understand why they don't have an official weather station at Badwater, which is much lower and hotter. Talk at the time was that the semi-official reading was 126-127° but it wasn't confirmed until later in the week that the official temperature on Sunday June 30 was 129.2°, and while it didn't break the all time record it did break the world record for hottest temperature ever recorded on earth for the month of June. We were there for a mini world record!


Peter Tellone points to the thermometer showing 132 degrees Fahrenheit at the Furnace Creek Visitor Center in Death Valley


We decided to head over to Trona Pinnacles National Natural Landmark for sunset and arrived there to a cool 117° just as the light was turning golden. The Trona Pinnacles are amazing calcium carbonate (tufa) spires rising from the bed of the Searles Dry Lake in the Mojave Desert. The unique landscape has been used to shoot many science fiction films including Lost In Space, Planet of the Apes, and Star Trek: The Final Frontier. Without saying a word the three of us took off in separate directions, each doing our own thing, until it got dark. I still wasn't up to doing much hiking and climbing, the guys were much more ambitious than I was.

Here are my shots from the Pinnacles:















Peter Tellone does amazing HDR photography that I love because it is realistic, not overdone, and he got some truly gorgeous photos of the Pinnacles as well as some fun shots from our adventure. Go check out his beautiful photos and writeup about our trip Fahrenheit 136 Death Valley – Road Trip to Hell. Ed Bannister swears that he got nothing worthwhile. I don't believe that but if so it was probably because he spent too much time making sure I was okay and always had a bottle of cold water in my hand, thank you Ed. John Moore is still kicking himself in the butt for deciding not to go.


I can best sum up this adventure by sharing what I posted on Peter's blog:


Best road trip…Evah is right, and I’d do it again with you guys in a heartbeat. I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun! You got some really beautiful shots Peter, especially considering that it was hard to see straight (and think straight) and our cameras were too hot to touch haha! Pretty frightening that 117 at the Pinnacles actually felt good to us!

Things I learned about being in the desert in 136 degrees:

Walking out on bright white salt flats – BAD IDEA
Putting a knee to the ground to shoot – BAD IDEA
Driving up Artist’s Palette – BAD IDEA
Answer for CNN – Only if you can do it RIGHT NOW
Outhouses – Ladies remember to squat, don’t sit. (Sizzle…Why do I smell bacon???). I think I still have marks.

Thank you both for such a wonderful, fantastic, fun adventure, can’t wait for the next one!

hahahah I forgot one -

DESERT RULES!

The Mother of All Joshua Trees

In all my travels I have never seen a Joshua Tree as large and full as this one. It's big enough for several people to stand under and provides the only shade for weary travelers for miles around. The Joshua trees were in full bloom two weeks ago just north of Barstow, although about ten miles further north along the trail where I set up camp the bloom was just getting started.

Joshua Trees are found only in the Mojave desert and they require two things to bloom...rain and a hard freeze. Although there wasn't much rain this year there certainly was a hard freeze. I was sleeping in a tent for a few of them!


I have some catching up on posting to do, don't I? ;)

Have a Seat

This is not the shot I wanted...there was a television about a half mile back and we were supposed to go back to grab it so I could set up a shot after we checked out the airplane graveyard in the background at the base of the mountains. But then there was a turn that looked interesting, and then another and another...next thing we knew we were miles away.

Of Barbed Wire and Hubcaps

Sometimes I wonder if I should try explaining why I photograph the things I do and why I "ruin" a beautiful landscape with man-made elements. I wonder to myself if people will understand that somewhere along the line all of the pretty landscapes became just another pretty landscape to me, pretty to look at but with rare exception after a while they all started to look and feel the same. (This is not in any way meant to denigrate traditional landscape photographers, they enjoy what they do and the world loves and needs beautiful photos.)

I don't often share much of myself except through my images. Would you understand if I tried to explain that it's the story of the desert, the struggle of life and death, questions of mortality and immortality, man's constant attempts to conquer the desert ( Check says man, Checkmate says the desert), that it is all about the incongruous juxtaposition and meant to challenge your assumptions about traditional beauty, that it's about aloneness but not loneliness, that it's about strength and resiliency and loss and broken dreams but not loss of hope? Would you understand my need to roam around aimlessly for days on end looking for exactly this?

Does it even make sense to try to explain these things, or will it all sound too much like the pretentious rambling of some art school dropout wannabe? Should I post some random poem or song and let you make of it what you will? Or maybe I should post just the photo with no words knowing that most people won't understand because it doesn't meet their definition of beauty?

One day I will have this all figured out.

Late afternoon light on the Silurian Hills

Late afternoon somewhere in the Mojave Desert

Mojave Moonrise

Red rock moon rises...

my spirit is like the wind

the coyote sings

Moonrise over the Ivanpah Mountains with the shadow of Teutonia Peak creeping up on me...time to start heading back in the direction of camp if I don't want to be out that far away after dark (I prefer to be within screaming distance of camp when I'm wandering in the desert solo at night). Making the most of it when I'm caught without the lens I want, I was drawn to the simple lines and near-symmetry of this composition. It reminded me of a haiku. :)