Mt. Rainier Three Day Workshop, August 20-22, 2019

Mt. Rainier is the icon of the Pacific Northwest. At 14,440 ft, it can be seen from many distant locations throughout Washington, sometimes seen peering just over the horizon where one can sense the curvature of the earth. It’s a photographers paradise in many ways.

In the evening, beautiful light on the mountain from an approaching weather front provided interesting clouds and color over the mountain and warm light on the Tatoosh Range to the south. The meadows were covered with late season wildflowers. Calmness with the occasional call of ravens.

Lovely light near sunset

With gray skies the next morning, and a sprinkle or two, we visited various sections of the cascading Paradise River, photographing a hidden waterfall and the lovely greenery along the river. The rain worked it’s way up the valley, so it was time to retreat to the newly restored and cozy Paradise Lodge. While it poured down, a good session of Adobe Lightroom and Nik Silver Efex was in order. The rain showed no sign of abating, so we headed for dinner with hopes of some clearing the next day.

Starting our exploration of the Paradise River

Morning was calm, with the mountain shrouded in fog and some promise of clearing to the east. Over grassy trails we surveyed the Tipsoo Lake area near Chinook Pass. The sun was shining, with glimpses of the summit of Mt. Rainier. The Sunrise area in the northeastern part of the park is always full of surprises. The clouds graciously parted for some very lovely views of Emmons and Winthrop glaciers and the lovely summit for the final part of the workshop.

Plenty of light and interesting clouds

If you would like to view their workshop images, click here>

Photography and Kayaking in the Bunsby Islands

After a successful adventure in the Jervis Inlet in 2017 with dear friends Lynn Fox and Eric Faucher, they had an interest in 2018 in returning to the Bunsby Islands, located on the northwest side of Vancouver Island near the Brooks Peninsula, British Columbia, Canada.

Remote locations are something that promise beauty and a certain amount of vulnerability to the elements and other unknowns. Traveling with experienced friends helps in innumerable ways. It's enjoyable and relaxing to feel like you are tagging along to an area that is new to you but well known to them.

Lynn and Eric with a friend

Getting to the Bunsby Islands is quite a trek from Portland, Oregon. Making the travel more pleasant is the extensive ferry services in the U.S. and in British Columbia. Avoidance of the densely populated areas of Tacoma/Seattle makes a better and more interesting experience and extends the time spent on and near the water. The drive up the west side of Hood Canal and then ferry over to Whidbey Island, with just 40 miles of freeway over the border to Tsawwassen, BC is ideal.

Sunset at Deception Pass, Washington

I met Lynn and Eric in Campbell River. We traveled north towards Port Hardy then west on a very challenging logging road across Vancouver Island to Fair Harbour. Lingering smoke and a few firefighters were around from lightning fires right along the road. We met our water taxi host, Leo Jack, a Kyuquot tribal member with a lot of experience and many stories to share. He transported us past his village, weaving around islands and sea otters to Barney Island in the Bunsbys.

Morning transport with our Water Taxi Host Leo Jack

Barney Island is such a great location we thought we would stay for a few days and use it as a base camp for exploration. The air has a fresh, almost perfumed, cedar like scent. One night we were awoken at 4:30a by the sound of wolves howling back and forth right in our camp area. I got up to take a look with a bright, waning gibbous moon surrounded by a giant, mysterious looking ring.  I didn't see them, but it's possible they saw me.

A rainy day, deep in the wilds of an inlet

Sea Otter resting-and watching me-very attentively

Sunset on Barney Island

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Our next camp was closer to open ocean, with clear turquoise water, a beautiful small sand beach, with the occasional otter floating by. We were alone in this most quiet and peaceful place.

Idyllic campsite with sand and driftwood

One of the best photography days started early with a beautiful sunrise.

Sunrise over Vancouver Island

 We also had remarkably calm conditions on the open ocean to photograph a very interesting islet with beautiful kelp, clouds, rocks and the wind and sea battered trees. We circumnavigated this islet for various angles and interesting compositions.

Islet with Bull Kelp, from the west

An Otter's view of this lovely Bull Kelp

Islet with Kelp and Spruce Trees,  from the north

Photographic success was also complimented by fishing success, with Eric catching some nice cod for dinner.

 That evening we were entertained by a quite spectacular view of the Milky Way, with bright Mars in the south.

Milky Way and Mars from our campsite beach

With a threatening forecast, we needed to head somewhere more protected, so we circuitously returned to Barney Island. Saw some bear scat on the north part of the island, but no bears.

One can expect to have any kind of weather here, and we did have a bit of everything, with many fair and pleasant days. Storms were moving in, so we had to hunker down. Sure enough, the wind and rain made an appearance, and it was time to retreat. Leo found a small window between storms and came to get us and return us safely to Vancouver Island.

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Addendum

Although the Bunsbys were spectacular in many respects, there were not many sea birds. Another area that contains fond memories over many years is the Puget Sound and San Juan Island region of Washington. After camping at Larabee State Park on my way home from the Bunsbys, I made a morning stop on the Lummi Reservation just west of Bellingham to dry out some gear and look for bird photography possibilities. One memory is having my first NW oysters here, gathered on Portage Island in 1977 after moving from Wisconsin in 1975.

Comical Black Oystercatchers near Lummi Island, San Juan Islands.

A collection of photographs may be seen here>

Winter Storm at Hug Point

Large storm waves are a grand attraction on the Pacific and can make for drama and also danger. These are not really "sneaker" waves in this context. It's simply a continual powerhouse of surge, current and beauty. These waves are so large they actually break on the reefs far off shore, so the ocean has the appearance of a gigantic washing machine of chaos.

One of my favorite places is Hug Point in all weather. No tourists dragging their coolers and umbrellas at this time of year. It's also high tide, so the dynamics are in full swing.

My main "position" is approaching the beautiful falls of Falls Creek from the highway, descending wet vegetation and mud. This platform before the creek makes it's final leap to the beach is roughly 15 feet high. A great view but can, at times, feel like it is not high enough. Occasionally there are logs perched on the ledge at the top of the falls, and then swept away.

Surging water from the north

The drama of water surging, tossing logs like they are matchsticks, shows the power and beauty of water.

Surging water from the south

Transforming clouds, changing their shapes and patterns.

The sun peaks through the maelstrom

A much higher platform and a grand view of the waves and their power.

Safely above the turmoil

The waves full force

Kayaking in Dream Land

Over the years, when taking the ferry from Earl's Cove to Saltery Bay on Jervis Inlet in the resplendent Coast Mountains of British Columbia, there is an area that looked ideal for exploration by kayak; Hotham Sound. Much of this area has dodged many of the ravages of resource extraction and has a reputation of calm and warm water, surrounded by granite peaks, forest and a 300 meter waterfall. What could be better.

Experiences like this are often solo adventures, but on this trip friends and fellow kayakers Lynn Fox and Eric Faucher joined me at Skookumchuck Inlet (famous for its tidal surge further up the Inlet) to explore this area. They brought a calm, very experienced and spirited sense of adventure, and had prepared an amazing menu. What a luxury.

Heading across Jervis Inlet

 We left on a warm clear day, with a building westerly wind. One aspect of many of these inlets are the steep rock walls and very few places to stop. Local knowledge is a big asset here. After deciding the wind was getting the better of us, we headed up Jervis Inlet to stay in a nice location for two nights.

The weather was calm and clear as we headed to Hotham Sound. After a bit of a search we found a great location with a nice stream nearby. Lynn prepared another fine meal and we photographed the Milky Way.

Southern Milky Way over Jervis Inlet

Kayaking here was a dream. We had calm waters, beautiful light, a great little storm, and more stars in the moonless evenings.

Approaching Storm

Beautiful Morning Light

In the entire trip, we didn't see any other kayakers  and very few boats went by. It's great to have a home base and simply explore an area. We really only scratched the surface and will certainly return to this fantastic area, off the beaten path.

Spring Moments near Quileute, Washington

The headlands are usually the last to relinquish their fog from the warming sun. It's best to try to get out early when the weather is good, as it may be gone in just an hour. I saw that it was already dissipating as I walked to one of my favorite and oft visited areas over many years. It's a place of solitude and beauty.

In spring this area is truly a wild place, where few visitors are seen. The weather is capricious and one has to be careful with the wave and surge action, especially when completely alone.

The sun was blazing but the fog held. Tide was approaching, so I had my back to the waves, which always makes me a little more than nervous. It was amazing. The sun through the trees was splitting the light into many fragments. I took a few photographs of the rays. Then  I moved back (closer to those waves) so a light curtain of beams covered the shore. It was magic and unusual.

Beautiful Light Beams

Another day I was kayaking with a friend on the Quillayute River near La Push on another beautiful sunny day. After taking photographs of at least 20 eagles, we took a break and were presented with these radiating cirrus clouds right over Little James Island. Flowers were blooming. It was Spring in full measure.

Waves forming a V and Radiating Clouds

 Link to more photographs on my website>

Spring in the Columbia Gorge, 2017

Deluge only begins to describe the weather here in the Northwest from October, 2016 to June, 2017. One of the escape areas from the city hum is the Columbia Gorge, and this winter greater escape from rain was often provided by just driving further east to the rain shadow east of Hood River.

 Lovely Oak and pine trees, rolling grasslands and billowing clouds.

Oregon Oak, Columbia Hills State Park, Washington

There was also quite a bit of water there at times as well.

High water through a narrow gorge, Washington

When we had some nice breaks and when it was possible, heading to Hamilton Island for the open and expansive views was a welcome investigation.

Beautiful sun beams on the Oregon side, Columbia Gorge

Checking Photographer's Ephemeris, the moon would be making an appearance over the ridge. Time for the long lens to capture this ridgeline in front of the moon. This is one of those type of images where it is good to go a day or two before the full moon so that there is light on the hills.

 

Moon rising, Columbia Gorge, Oregon

 Images can be seen here>>

Kayak Photography Trip to Desolation Sound, British Columbia, Canada

Desolation Sound in British Columbia, Canada, was named by Captain George Vancouver in 1792 while he was carefully surveying and charting the B.C. coast, in search of the mysterious Northwest passage and to claim the area territory for the crown. He stated "...there was not a single prospect that was pleasing to the eye". Normally he named locations after people. Few places are so named here.

Today Desolation Sound is far from desolate. In the summer it is a bustling, busy place with every type and size of vessel plying it's waters. In the autumn, the rains really start settling in and most everyone leaves, leaving it quiet and peaceful. This is when I enjoy coming here.

Desolation Sound on the final day

Photography and kayaking are idyllic here; soaring granite mountains descending into the sea, beautiful forests, wildlife in the water and on the shore, interesting people close to the land and sea. I beg to differ with Captain Vancouver's assessment.

Goals are tempered by the vagaries of weather. Here in the Northwest, storms can come at any time, with the likelihood of challenging weather increasing as September comes to a close. Temperatures are falling, but hopes rise of the chance for beautiful snow on the upper peaks.

Jervis Inlet exhales in the morning, between storms

After weathering a few strong storms, a break came to paddle the oyster laden Okeover Inlet to Malaspina Inlet, camping at Hare Point, part of the Desolation Sound Marine Provincial Park. I frightened a scrambling family of River Otters upon my arrival. No one else was there. A condition that remained for the duration of my visit.

Malaspina Inlet from Hare Point

Spending days waiting for the weather to improve, continuous entertainment was provided by Steller Sea Lions catching salmon. Sitting on the Point with my chair, camera and umbrella, I watched them chasing down, flinging, chomping and swallowing whole, large Chinook Salmon. Along with the Salmon attempting to head upsteam, every day 6-10 Sea Lions would arrive with the incoming current. The Harbor Seals were also making quite a showing. Bald Eagles watched from the trees.

Sea Lion Salmon breakfast at Malaspina Inlet

Stellar Sea Lions are big. Very big. Their heads are the same size as a Brown (Grizzly) Bear, and they have no shortage of very large, nasty looking teeth. They look especially large when they are grunting 10 feet from your little boat. They come right up to you, sometimes making rather loud blowing sounds, sometimes following you around, but they never felt seriously threatening, yet. They are big, fast and dangerous. I always talk to them. In times past, we were a major predator of them.

Large teeth 10 feet from my kayak-deemed curious, not threatening

 After a cold front past in the evening, there was some clearing in the morning, so I packed up and headed for the Curmie Islands, which were about 6 miles away. Greeted by a 15+ knot north head wind, there was also plenty of distance to the north for the wind to build a rather large sea. Hard paddling for 2 hours netted 1 mile of forward progress. The waves were reflecting off the cliffs beyond the headland to create quite a show of breaking waves and chaos, known as clapotis. Retreating from this growing concern brought relief, and I was back with my Sea Lion friends at Hare Point in 20 minutes. Time for chocolate.

Majestic Bald Eagle taking a rest

Milky Way from Malaspina Inlet

The next day was clear and beautifully calm. I paddled out a few miles to the main part of Desolation Sound to photograph the islands and Coast Mountains. It was infinitely easier than the day before. Fog banks created some very beautiful patterns.  Fresh water was a disappearing commodity at camp with no fresh water source nearby, so I needed to head back to Okeover. It was a long day of paddling, but a satisfying one. It was further enhanced by another delicious meal at the Laughing Oyster. 

Oyster boat on Desolation Sound in the early morning

 I explored some areas near Okeover Inlet that were recommended to me by first nation folks, then headed back via ferry to Jervis Inlet, making note of next year's destination, Hotham Sound. Paddled out to the photogenic Harbor Seals in Sechelt Inlet, then out to Jervis Inlet for the wonderful peaks descending into the depths of the sea. 

No snow on the peaks this trip. Guess I'll have to return!

Harbor Seals at Sechelt Inlet

Soaring peaks in Jervis Inlet

A collection of images can be seen here>>

One Day Misty Oregon Coast Workshop in Oceanside

Greeted by misty conditions, we rounded Maxwell Point with lots of surf, a deserted beach and nice sand and rock areas at low tide. The beautiful sea stacks were playing hide and seek in the morning fog.

Carol Enyart, ©2016

Moving water around the rocks was one of themes, and using slower shutter speeds to capture it's motion. A bevy of gulls and cormorants were in the air and on the rocks.

Birds and Sea Stacks. Andrew Kaplan, ©2016

As the tide returned and the fog lifted a bit, the scene changed to more blue skies and sun, bringing with it the throngs who were escaping the heat of interior Oregon. We headed to Roseanna's Cafe for a very nice lunch and a window seat.

After lunch we visited Will Dixon and his gracious wife Betsy in their lovely home perched near a cliff on overlooking the Pacific at Cape Meares. Will is a master wood carver who often works in the traditions of the Native Northwest woodcarvers, as well as carving some of his own lovely imaginary creations. He is also and noted author.

Will Dixon. Kira Bartlett, ©2016

Will is a fountain of stories, so he related some of his experiences with working with tagging raptors, as well as telling some of the famous NW native legends that inspires his carvings. He also graciously provided shortbread crab cookies he had made that day for us.

We then headed to the Bayocean area to explore the beach and the cliffs on the north end of Cape Meares. The persistent fog finally came ashore to this lovely beach, but we were treated to some beautiful light before the fog descended.

Cape Meares Mist, Katrina Gustafson, ©2016

The advent of seeing a sunset was not be, as the heavy fog moved in. After a very busy day, we decided to have a relaxing evening inside!

A collection of participant photographs from this workshop can be seen here>>