Utah is not like anywhere else. It goes on and on forever in a seemingly endless mass of rock that lies in exposed layers before your eyes. Red, white, black, brown, yellow layers representing millions of years in earth’s history. Making one very aware of the blip in time our own existence represents. I found myself wondering if our period in time would be a rainbow stripe of plastic a millions years from now. Instead of the Holocene period maybe it should be called the Plasticene period?
A 2 week excursion of exploration and for me, image hunting, began with 14 hours of driving overnight through the California and Nevada desert putting us Monday morning the 26th of April in Zion National Park. We were here to get the best views of rock, water and sky that we could manage and in Zion the view from Angel’s Landing is just one of those. Like a lot of spectacular out of the way views this one comes with some hard work to get there. The last half of the hike is on a narrow fin of rock with sheer cliff drops on either side. Just you and the rock and a bit of nerve. The payout at the end worth it with breathtaking views in very direction. This is what we had come for.
From Zion we continued to Bryce Canyon National Park where a 2 day backcountry hike on the Under the Rim trail became one of the more intense backpacking experiences I’ve ever had. Day 1 was a casual 10 mile hike through wide canyons, sand dunes and chasms where earth was just swept away in what must have been colossal landslides. A hoodoo is what you call the formations that are characteristic of Bryce. Rocks perched atop yet more columns of rock with names like The Hatshop and the Pink Cliffs.
It was all quite quaint until day 2 when Bryce decided it wanted to remind us who was boss in the wild. With 13 miles ahead of us and a snow storm coming in we had a lot of ground to cover. That was fine but when we discovered that the southern end of the park was under considerably more snow than anticipated we knew then it wasn’t going to be easy. Hiking our way through snow drifts that had all but swallowed the trail up we were depending completely on the Topo map. A quick exit through an adjoining trail was abandoned upon realizing that digging through snow while on steep cliffs was probably not the best idea. The short way out could cost us our lives. It was going to be the long way round. I’d put my camera away. I wasn’t relaxed enough to shoot. Besides the wind was gusting at about 35mph on the ridge I was standing on. I was trying to stay on my feet. Photos weren’t important at that time and I was a little concerned. We’d still 4 miles to go and most of it through snow clambering up slopes to get a lay of the land as we progressed. It’s times like this when energy is all but depleted that you know you’ve no choice but to give it every ounce of what you’ve got left. It was time to dig deep.
Times like this too when you realize the importance of a good experienced wilderness hiking partner. And I had one in my friend Miles. He drove the pace and never once made me think we wouldn’t get out that evening. A half hour before sunset we walked out of the wild and into the carpark at 9115ft at Rainbow Point with a storm on our heels. When it snowed on me that night I didn’t care. We were safe in our sleeping bags and tent . Like Yvon Chouinard says ‘It’s not an adventure until something goes wrong”.
The rest of the trip took us through the Grand Staircase of the Escalante where I made new friends and ran into old ones by the side of the road, Carol and Mike from Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Our group was expanding.Together we explored and clambered around some of our first slot canyons like Peek a Boo and Spooky in the Escalante. Spaces so narrow you could rub your nose off the rock as you squeezed through sideways.We hiked through valleys where Anasazi Indian ruins surrounded us. We scrambled up scree slopes and jumped across streams to get better views of Indian petroglyphs. We stood in awe of waterfalls and rock walls.
In Capitol Reef National Park we ran up the Golden Throne trail so we’d catch the rock in time for sunset. We drew attention to ourselves when the RV campers, mostly retirees wondered how we had rigged a shower station using our solar showers and our tent flys. We mused over whether people had forgotten how to really camp. With work commitments to stay apace of, my personal challenge somedays was finding internet. For Carol and Mike it was not making a mess when you filled the tank of the camper with vegetable oil. For Miles it was figuring out how he was going to get his meat for the day when dinner was vegetarian.
In the San Rafael Swell a vast area of wilderness in the Northest corner of the Colorado Plateau, a seemingly endless landscape of canyons, sky and buttes was upon us. If you want a perfect wide open sky with a few puffy clouds chances are you’ll find it in Utah. Beer is different. You won’t see billboards for beer ads and chances are when you go to find some alcohol to purchase you’re scavenging around in the back of a gift shop buying wine covertly over a counter. My wine habit had gone underground.
Time always runs out. Goodbyes to friends I was never good at. I’ll see you in the Tetons, I promised as I drove away choked up with tears and the desert dust blew in the car window. With that we left the Swell behind and headed to Moab.
Arches National Park is a veritable mind boggling experience of natural arches in nature. Rock is architecture everywhere in Utah with formations that look like temples, fortresses and castles but sights such as Delicate arch and Landscape arch are like Gaudi in Barcelona.
Just as our trip began it ended by driving all night through the Nevada desert till we reached the mountains of California and watched as the sun brightened a new Sierra Nevada day. Almost 16 hrs after we had left Moab and the red rock of Utah behind, we were back in the San Francisco bay. Experiences always have a purpose but sometimes the purpose doesn’t reveal itself fully until you’ve embarked upon it. I said goodbye to Miles, closed the door to my apartment and thought about it. The purpose of this was to remind me that nothing is ever a coincidence.
18 years past and I find myself here once again. Connemara is a place of legends and wild rugged landscape. It is an environment of delicate peat bogs, lakes, stone walls, craggy peaks, sheep, and a sense of peace. There are few places more uniquely Irish than Connemara. In a country that has gone through (and continues to do so) profound social and economic upheavel one can still come here and get a sense of something above the rush of the cities and modern life. Connemara is not just a place it is a feeling. Situated in west County Galway the people there make a clear distinction between this place, themselves and the rest of Galway if not the rest of Ireland. You couldn’t fault them for doing so. It is wild, peaceful, magic and mysterious. But it can also be loud with the sound of wind blowing across it mountain tops, it’s people laughing and traditional music escaping from bars and halls. It is home to Connemara National Park and the Twelve Ben peaks in the Maumturk mountain range where you can hike for days with sheep watching your every move. The Glencoaghan Horseshoe is one of the best hikes I’ve done anywhere and is an Irish classic. Not to mention the Diamond Hill hike which is a great way to get your day started.
It has forever been a hub for artists and writers for it’s easy to be inspired here. The main town of the area is Clifden and if you’re lucky enough to be in Connemara this week of October you’ll catchClifden Arts Weekwhere Irish Poet Laureate and Nobel Prize winner Seamus Heaney will be in attendance. Whilst in Clifden I had the pleasure and good ‘craic’ of strolling into the Lavelle Art Gallery where I met owner and himself a talented artist Gavin Lavelle. Gavin is a graduate of the National College of Art and Design in Dublin. We mused over the state of the art world in Ireland and I left laughing with promises to return to continue the conversation. If you’re one for acommodations that strike at the heart of you and ooze with character I’d highly recommend the Old Monastery Hostel in Letterfrack. Situated 35 paces from the National Park entrance. If you need to write a book, make decisions, or just be in a hospitable relaxed atmosphere you’d stay here.
This is a special place and a unique one. You won’t find the likes of it anywhere else. And that’s fact. The people who live there know it and when they say goodbye they do so with a cheeky smile because they know chances are you’ll be back. They wave with one hand and with the other they have a tight hold that lasts forever.
A little techy moment now for all of you geeks. The video is shot with the new 5d Mark II and edited in Final Cut. The mark II presents it’s own challenges when it comes to editing it’s files and getting them into a format where I could edit natively in Final Cut but after much digging round the internet I worked a few things out.
Most people that know me will tell you that I can’t go very long before the urge to leave the city and get to nature becomes over whelming for me. The feeling is kind of like someone has a pillow over my face. I want to get out that bad.
Without trips like these I wouldn’t have become the type of photographer I am today. And certainly not the person I am today. One of the great things about being a photographer is that you can pretty much do it anywhere. So this month I took advantage of modern technology and took my ‘office’ to Tahoe.
I arrived in the afternoon and went to take a run just as the sun was setting on the lake.
The air smelled of cedar and spruce and the light filtered through the trees.
The next morning I scoped out a few cafes with wifi where I could work. Full signal and friendly staff are prerequisites when on the road. I spread out at this place several days. I spent so long here they could have charged me rent.
When the full moon rose above my campsite on the 5th night it lit everything up. I’d test shot it every night and was ready for the final show.
A few days into it and the storm that was forecast finally came as I was heading to Lovers Leap a favorite climbing spot to go shoot and climb with friends. By the time I arrived in the parking lot the rain was coming down steadily. But Jake my faithful climbing partner wouldn’t dream of letting something like rain dampen his spirits as we stood and drank our wine out of tin cups. All while strolling along the route of the old pony express trail and pondering the 600 ft walls that we would climb for the next few days.
I love people with a lust for life and a desire to do things that push one outside their comfort zone. Jake is one of those people. From a little town that you might have heard of called Woodstock he has been climbing for probably 25 years. No other person has convinced me more times than anyone else that I can do something on a wall of rock hundreds of feet up in the air when I am steadfast sure I cannot. When I’m in that place where I can’t figure the move and it looms over me like a giant and I can’t go down, the only way to go being up. Up and over what seems like an utterly impossible move. Times like this Jake has uttered some seriously convincing words.
But really the only one who can physically get you there is yourself. Which is why when I stand at the top of a climb and I have my feet planted firmly on solid ground again, what I just accomplished makes life’s challenges on the ground seem like small fry.
When you have become so zoned in on nothing but a piece of rock in front of you with your whole body, mind and senses it is has an uncanny ability of making you feel very much alive. Not forgetting to mention the fact that you’re highly aware of your own mortality as the wind whistles in your ears as you balance there. So I take it all in afterwards, thankful for the accomplishment and my safe arrival.
After hanging out with Jake at the Leap I headed back to west Tahoe to do a hike in the Desolation Wilderness which is right out my ‘backdoor’. I’ve spent many weeks in the Desolations Wilderness over the years and whilst it can be crowded (the most visited wilderness in America) and solitude alludes you sometimes, it is nevertheless beautiful. Miles and miles of trials where if you pick the right one(the PCT) you could go all the way north to Canada or south to Mexico.
In one day I hiked 14 miles roundtrip up into the wilderness behind my campsite. I made the mistake of leaving camp with the wrong shoes on and by the time I got back I had a raw blister on the sole of each foot about the size of a quarter. How I managed to do this after years of experience I will never know. In hindsight I should have photographed my feet to show you just what kind of state they were in. However as I marched along uttering expletives to myself and my own stupidity this was some of the scenery I was greeted with.
I had reached my half way point at Fontanillis Lake when I bump into a couple arguing in the middle of nowhere with what appeared to be their 12 year old son stuck in the middle of them. The anger and bad energy exchanged during those moments seemed wholly out of context in what I was surrounded by. I felt sorry for her as the tears rolled down her face and her partner stood mute perhaps guilty for making his wife cry. Love can hurt but it can hurt even more when you’ve lost yourself in it. And she was definitely lost in it. My thoughts were hey look on the bright side lady, if you’re going to be sad at least you’re looking at this.
And the only person casting a shadow on my scene was myself.
You could be forgiven for thinking I was in the pages of a Grimm brothers tale.
I wasn’t. Just somewhere equally as enchanting. And like a storybook lying on your bedroom floor, you can pick it up, take a look, maybe be inspired enough by the story told within. Or. You can turn around and go to sleep.
