Trail Option

A personal geography of landscape and place, art and geo-science.

LightOpt

Fall Color – Smith Valley, NV

· · Leave a Comment

Riparian colors. A minor drainage shines in Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

A storm had set in; great wind and slashing rain at StoneHeart throughout the night. And yet the Sierra seemed to have caught the storm by the tail keeping it from breaking further east. When this happens, the sunrise has promise. Hunting color at the edge of the storm, I set out into the dark rain of the pre-dawn, hoping the weather radar had truth in it.

Fall Color – Smith Valley Collection

Upstream. A riparian corridor in Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA
Pairing. Cottonwoods turning late in Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA
Lagging. Cottonwoods hover over a lone willow, Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA
Catching. Cottonwoods catch first light in Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA
Overlay. Riparian shrubs in the watershed of Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA
Surrounds. A play of orange among the willows, Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

Fall Color – Smith Valley Collection

Smith Valley is on the opposite side of the Pine Nut Mountains, east of our home. In less than an hour, I am in the calm of the valley with dark clouds scudding off the mountain ridges above and to the west. It is as I hoped, a warm glow is peaking in the east and will light the east-facing mountain front. There is color here; black cottonwoods and willows peak from riparian corridors framed by golden rabbitbrush and grasses. Sometimes plans are brilliant.

Spring memory. A promise of life as the seasons turn, Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

I arrived at Spring Gulch, a sometime well-watered cleft between the lower slopes of the Pine Nuts and the Buckskin Range, and began picking compositions around individual trees. The trees were beautiful and still, almost begging for the new light. Somewhere above me the wind howled, but its effects remained invisible at the mountain tops even as its voice rolled downslope, an ominous warning of the storm rolling over and disturbing the peace in the little woodland.

Road to nowhere. An eager two-track scars the hills of Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

Working over the course of an hour or so, spitting rain reminding me of the storm at hand, I was very happy with the reward of the riparian corridors of the Great Basin Desert. Especially pleased at being relatively close to home. I journeyed back south, the wind and rain dropping in at my back altering and erasing my presence. I had stolen a few minutes in the calm before the storm, a perfect Sunday morning in Nevada.

Pivot and tree. Another cutting done in Smith Valley, Great Basin Desert, NV, USA

Fall Color – Smith Valley Collection

Please respect the natural and cultural resources of our public lands. #naturefirst #keepgoing

Fall Color: A Rainy Evening in Hope Valley

· · Leave a Comment

Aspen mosaic. Autumn’s passing in Hope Valley, Carson Range, USA

Finally, rain. I spent the last week in the Mojave Desert, gouging around Las Vegas Valley, walking several ranges, and spending too much time in a casino conference center. I cannot complain about returning to in-person gatherings with colleagues and friends, but I still felt I needed the solace of Hope Valley among the first storm clouds of the fall. I had missed the peak colors, it seems, but the aspens and willows of Hope saved something for me.

Holding still. A lone aspen at the edge of the grove, fall colors in Hope Valley, CA, USA.

I found, however, that a darkness had settled in and the compositions, to my eye, today, were few. I worked among the trees and hiked between scattered groves of color. Two images stood out and I was happy to get the simple shots as the light faded further.

Fall Colors – Hope Valley Collection

As I walked, I reflected on the week and month as the pandemic appeared to fade. Our meetings had been an apparent success and I wondered if I could dare feel some relief (Omicron variant was still in our future). In my hand my camera fired, with the settings of a relatively slow shutter speed. The view on the screen was a blur, reminding me of the potential creativity of Intentional Camera Movement (ICM). I began to play and started to see things unexpected; things that seemed to relate to my daring sense of relief and recovery. Certainly not to everyone’s taste, but I like the creation in the moment when abstraction meets emotion, even when it is simple and personal.

Recovering. Hope Valley, Carson Range, USA
At the edges. Hope Valley, Carson Range, USA
Is there an after? Hope Valley, Carson Range, USA

Fall Colors – Hope Valley Collection

Please respect the natural and cultural resources of our public lands. #naturefirst #keepgoing

Wildlife Photography: Getting Lost with the Red-headed Woodpecker

· · 2 Comments

Red-headed Woodpecker | Melanerpes erythrocephalus; foraging for pinyon nuts. Virginia Range, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

Ok, this is not a bird photography website. It just happens that this was an interesting week.

Six-Mile Woodpecker Collection

After our brief birding excursion along the East Walker River, Desna heard that a Red-headed Woodpecker had taken up brief residence in Six Mile Canyon in the Virginia Range, just below Virginia City, Nevada. This is interesting because the poor bird seems to be a bit lost. Their common range is east of the Rocky Mountains, with only occasional appearances in the West.

Des made a successful sighting in Six Mile Canyon, along with a few other Reno-Carson-area birders out to add this to their lists and to enjoy the attractive, colorful bird. She said I should get up there and get him for my new avifauna image list. That was recommendation enough, so I went up early on a weekday morning – strange to drive into Six Mile and up to the outskirts of Virginia City, a place we lived for almost ten years. Happy to see Shaun and Debbie right off; Desna had also let them know that they had a visitor in their town.

We waited along the road, hoping he would come out for some morning foraging. This was the reported pattern. Sure enough, after about 45 minutes of waiting, I saw the white wing-flash, moving from the pinyon forest on the hillside to the cottonwoods of the riparian corridor. Unfortunately, the daily flow in the Six Mile drainage is augmented by the town’s effluent plant. But the birds do not seem to care.

Red-headed Woodpecker | Melanerpes erythrocephalus. Virginia Range, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.
Red-headed Woodpecker | Melanerpes erythrocephalus; eyes closed, perched. Virginia Range, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

The Red-Headed Woodpecker worked his way around the cottonwoods. It was a challenge to capture images of the bird as he was adept at hiding in branches and trunks as he forages. We lose sight of him for long periods and then he reappears in a flush of red and white. Although my images are pretty good (I still need to develop the skill of getting a few more sharp images) it is very fun to share some time with a relatively uncommon bird. I have only been ‘birding’ for a few days, and I now have a rare one on my short list. Very fun, with more practice to come.

Red-headed Woodpecker | Melanerpes erythrocephalus; the bird of hearts. Virginia Range, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

Six-Mile Woodpecker Collection

Bird Image List: Red-headed Woodpecker

Keep going.

Please respect the natural and cultural resources of our public lands.

#naturefirst #keepgoing

Wildlife Photography: Birds of the East Walker River, Nevada

· · Leave a Comment

East Walker sunset. East Walker River, Great Basin Desert, Nevada.

Here is a slightly different angle for the LightOpt Photography blog. My wife and I teamed up on a quick camp trip to the East Walker River to check out birds in the Walker River State Recreation Area, a relatively new component of the state park system. I had passed by here on my excursion into the Gray Hills and thought we might try the campground for an overnight; it is only an hour from home. 

The campground sits on old pasture or hayfields of the Pitchfork Ranch which is now the visitor’s center of the State Park. The campground is wide-open space with several sites are close the river, and this evening the place looks rather full as we pull in. We do not typically do campground locations, appreciating the open public lands, but once in a while they make for an easy break – though we aren’t ever in danger of too much discomfort when out in Desna’s camping rig. Even now, with most of the camp sites taken and the crowd looking ready for a whole lot of motorized recreation, we consider heading back out of the park, into the backcountry. But we came to give it a try and quickly decide to settle into spot #10.

And then the drone of generators begins. I have never really understood the camp-need of endless power generation. We have one in our rig, but hardly find much use for it – we cooked popcorn in the just-as-useless microwave, if only to prove we could – the sound is ridiculous. I understand needing some extra power to prep dinner for a family, but the evening-long rumble from just about all camps is something we hardly bear. Anyway, I should not complain much, it is still nice to be out here, and I can look forward to the quiet of the morning, when pre-dawn quiet still reigns.

East Walker Bird Collection

I was out early indeed, wanting to practice bird photography. Des is a great birder and I have been looking forward to documenting, if possible, the various species we come across together. As I step from the camper, flocks of waterfowl are passing low overhead, their calls muffled in the feathered-beating of so many wings. It seems a good start.

I work my way into a riverbend where a grove of cottonwoods holds a Great-horned Owl pair. It is too dark to photograph, but I watch them until they move across the river and farther north. I turn and wait for a Red-tailed Hawk to move from her nest, maybe for a morning hunt, or to switch duties with her mate. I wait over an hour, as the sunrises, and only the songbirds and some Western Bluebirds pass among the branches above me. Nothing in today’s adventure of wildlife photography, but that is how it mostly goes.

Des comes across the fields to meet me, and we walk back toward the slowly stirring campground. As we pass another raptor nest, a mother Red-tail is guarding her roost, and then it is the little birds that spring to action. A Song Sparrow greets the sun and hurriedly gathers material for a nest as a female looks on. He splits time between singing for his territory and bouncing through the grass with twigs, though I cannot quite tell where they are settling in. A Downy Woodpecker gets up a usual ruckus, ricocheting from tree to tree and jack-hammering up and down the branches.

My simple favorite is the common White-crowned Sparrow guarding the fence as we enter the campground. I have a soft spot for the little passerines, the ones we see every day and practically forget they are there. This sparrow poses patiently and then drops to ground beyond the fence to forage for the sparse seeds of early spring.

I later find I had plenty of difficulty getting the focus and depth of field needed for good images. This is something I need to work toward, knowing that capturing sharp, well-composed images of fast-moving birds (and other animals) is always a challenge. I am hooked, however; and the challenge will be a pleasure in the quiet moments among the birds. Thanks to Des for sharing this with me.

East Walker Bird Collection

Bird Image List: Red-tailed Hawk, Song sparrow, Downy Woodpecker, Western Bluebird, White-crowned Sparrow. Links jump to the ebird.org information pages.

Keep going.

Please respect the natural and cultural resources of our public lands.

#naturefirst #keepgoing

Landscape Photography: Snow Recce in Antelope Valley CA

· · 1 Comment

Snow filled the valleys of the western Great Basin at the end of January, when lake-effect squalls, energized as they traversed Lake Tahoe, cycled through the valleys southeast of the lake. We approached two feet of coverage at St0neHeart, with deep drifts along fence lines and out-buildings. So early on a Sunday morning, I decided to chase the light while the snow was still fresh and deep in the fields and foothills of Antelope Valley, across the state line but not far from home.

There had been rumors of fog in the forecast, but the the pre-dawn sky was clear. As I traversed the ranch roads that crisscrossed the ranchlands of the valley bottom, little motivated me to leave the warmth of the truck, it was 18F (-8C) along the Walker River. Cattle barely noticed me, refusing to lift their heads from their early-morning feed.

I ventured into the pinyon hills of public land on the valley’s east side, but the deep snow and bunchy trees turned me back. As I regained the truck, I noticed a heron gliding along an irrigation ditch banked in snow and willows. It disappeared on wide wings, seeming to drop into the snow. I eventually found the bird patiently watching riffles in the flowing water, a slight bit of turbulence at a confluence of ditches. It made sense that any morning meal would have to pass this now-dangerous intersection with a great blue heron (Ardea herodias) in waiting.

Waiting. A Great Blue Heron patient in the cold.

I too waited. The heron never moved. I finally crept slowly away. Full disclosure: I never left my truck — resting my long lens in the window and sharing time with one of my favorite birds.

Antelope Valley Collection

I had basically given up for the morning and turned for home. I had the one image of the heron (or, at least, I would get one from the several I’d captured) and was happy with that. But from the highway I saw strange patterns, starting with perfect circles on the ice of Topaz Lake — still frozen at its southern shore. I’m still not sure how they form, but the simple pattern turned me around and I found a pullout above the steep drop to the lake.

Topaz spots. Abstractions in the ephemeral ice of Topaz Lake.
Connection. Some patterns are too cool to explain.

I was happy to have stopped to check the patterns. For a popular lake typically overrun with boats of all kinds, I have had some very good, quiet images from its shores. And it can be very nice that it usually presents these things as one passes on Highway 395.

Further north I caught sight of a string of mule deer (Odocoileus hemionus) moving slowly in their beaten trail. Bounding occasionally to clear obstacles I could not see. It was the spacing that caught my eye. It’s a wide image, so give it a click and get the full view (note: you can do this with all images at Trail Option, usually).

Leading line. A well-spaced group of mule deer on slopes of the eastern Sierra.

Antelope Valley Collection

Some times short trips, with few expectations, give the best results — all within 30 miles of home.

Keep going.

Please respect the natural and cultural resources of our public lands.

#naturefirst #keepgoing