Dawn Squalls at Frog Lake

Dawn Squalls at Frog Lake

After endless days of blue skies, it looks like there is a change in the forecast. A generally dry cold front will roll through early Sunday morning, bringing strong winds and, more importantly, mid-level clouds and a slight chance of precipitation in the Sierra. After a couple unsuccessful, but fun, photo excursions among the fall colors of Hope Valley, I had to take advantage of the change in weather, getting up high to experience the brief storm.

So, I am on the road, heading up Highway 88 to Carson Pass, in the dark of Sunday morning. Frog Lake, on the Pacific Crest Trail, south of the highway trailhead, is an easy hike and, having been there scouting and photographing previously, it is a nice place to visit on short notice as conditions warrant. Ledges northeast of the small tarn overlook the length of Hope Valley and peer southward from Mokelumne Wilderness into the crags of Carson-Iceberg Wilderness; wide open compositions abound.

It was 20°F when I parked my rig at the trailhead. Wind gusts whipped at the doors as I reached for my pack and tripod, there was one car in the parking area. I dropped into the dark forest, enjoying the little adrenaline rush of a dark mountain trail seen only from the tunnel-like beam of a headlamp—waiting for the reflected eyes of critters, small and large, that watch my passage, as the limbs of the tallest trees shudder and crack in the wind. I cover my headlamp at intervals to soak in the darkness and watch the clouds moving with promise against the stars. Soon I am at Frog Lake, the dark water riffling in the wind. I am now exposed on the tarn’s shore as I move to the ledges above its northern margins. It is here that ancient glaciers scoured the rocks before dropping into Hope Valley far below. Today, the north wind scours the ledges in the opposite direction, blowing a squall’s few snow flurries through the cone of my headlamp, hints of snow’s hopeful return to the mountains.

As the light glows the clouds form overlapping bands extending to the eastern horizon. A lower cloudbank rolls over Freel Peak and Jobs Sister at the north end of Hope Valley. This is what I came for. And yet, the mid-level clouds are the bane of sunrise light; they block the horizon and flatten the view. Without illumination, the distant rolling cloud is almost invisible against the intersection of mountain and sky. In my mild disappointment, I realize my hands are painfully cold. I need to acclimatize or succumb to the endless need for handwarmers. I have some fancy gloves and liners, but something is not working.

Markleeville Peak at Sunrise. I did not plan a panorama in the field, but after reviewing images captured of slightly different compositions, I stitched this two-image panorama together to capture dawn’s window at Markleeville Peak. 0.5 sec, f/11, ISO 100; Canon 5Div, 100-400mm (100mm).

As I turn from the northward view, smiling at the pain in my hands—it is the feeling of mountain winter, I notice that the sunrise is aligned with a gap in the clouds much further southeast than I expected. I climb a few stepped ledges and tuck into a gap between boulders, out of the wind, sort of.

The images of the red dawn were a challenge as my hands lost feeling. I want to focus on the image and enjoy its capture, but the wind at my hands, and whipping at my jacket and hood, reminds me that I am exposed at elevation, experiencing firsthand the change of weather. The images become secondary.

Misty mountains. This image, from the windswept ledges of Frog Lake, reminds us that winter is coming. 1 sec, f/11, ISO 100; Canon 5Div, 100-400mm (255mm).

I am, however, happy with their capture. The images reveal the dark morning squalls and the brief glow of a red sunrise. The sun was masked by the mid-level clouds but there was enough gap to alter the scene for a moment. I could see that this would be a moody image with a “Mordor” drama on the horizon. These scenes were not my first idea walking into Frog Lake, but I enjoyed watching the sky develop, once I was looking in the right direction.

I look forward to getting to know the Frog Lake ledges in all conditions. Let’s move toward winter here.

Sunrise and Smoke: An Early Morning Decision

Sunrise and Smoke: An Early Morning Decision

Sometimes spontaneous works. This is pretty much the image I imagined waking up an hour earlier. 1/25 sec, f/11, ISO 100; Canon 5DmIV, 70-200 f/4L.

Landscape photography typically involves planning, at least for me. I usually get some idea of place, story, mood, or composition, and begin by flying around in Google Earth, searching a few maps, checking the weather, and logging into PhotoPills or The Photographer’s Ephemeris. It’s part of the fun, but this morning wasn’t all that…

It has been miserably smokey in Carson Valley, with air quality commonly in the unhealthy range due to the disastrous and all too common fires in California and Nevada. We are in the smoke-plume of the Ferguson Fire at Yosemite. My trail running has ground to a halt, and there isn’t much motivation to get out for some landscapes. And yet, for some reason, I woke up at 4 AM — spontaneously, for otherwise no good reason — with the thought of catching the orb of the rising sun filtered through the smoke-plume haze. My pack sits ready and the tripod is in the car, so why not?  Let’s go.

I brewed some tea, toasted a bagel, and started out for Kingsbury Grade in the moonlit pre-dawn. I’d climb to a roadcut about half-way up the Carson Range and scramble over the edge to gaze down on the shadows of the Pine Nut Mountains. I knew I would keep it simple — my 70-200 to the horizon, and that’s it. The sun and smoke would do the rest.

I waited about 20 minutes and for much of that time I thought the thick curtain of smoke on the eastern horizon, with haze settling into the foothills, would block the sunrise completely. But soon a sliver of red appears, as if the ferocious fire had itself jumped from the High Sierra to the lowly Pine Nuts. The orb was here, pretty much as my dreams must have known. 

The Portal Arch. After capturing my earlier image, I watched the sun disappear and expected it to soon be too bright in the cloudless sky. As I reached to take the camera down, the orb crested the densest plume and seduced a second shot. This may earn a large print, to be viewed at a distance.  1/15 sec, f/20, ISO 100; Canon 5DmIV, 70-200 f/4L. 

My smoke-themed photos tend to be rather dark, a reflection of the foreboding plumes of the destructive fires in our midst. Please be careful out there and I hope those affected — the people and our wild lands — can soon recover. Please feel free to comment below.  Too dark?  Is the watermark a distraction? Fire and smoke affecting you? 

Link here for Full Image Gallery

Related Post: Tufa and Smoke at Mono Lake, CA.

Morning Tarn near Carson Pass, CA

Morning Tarn near Carson Pass, CA

Round Top (10,381′). I enjoy this peak above Carson Pass. Good summit trail. Captured this image after sunrise on my hike out. 1/50 sec, f/9, ISO 100; Canon 6D, 100-400mm (118mm, cropped).

Up at 4AM and out the door by 4:30, headed for Carson Pass and a short pre-dawn hike to the tarn at Carson Gap. Again, the access to the pass and its surroundings is so easy and relatively quick — still pretty quiet in the early hours of the last day of the Labor Day weekend. The trailhead has more overnight cars than I saw as I started my trail run over Carson Pass to Meiss Meadows on Saturday morning, but there are still plenty of spaces just before 5:30. I sign in, grab the pack and headlamp, and start up the trail.

Always mildly spooky at the get-go, but soon I settle in to the quiet and slowly growing light. It’s only about a half-hour hike to the pass. I make a couple video recordings to get some sounds and check the light (the video results are ok, but the audio is, as expected, mostly terrible). Ok, if I’m talking right into the camera but otherwise useless. I am probably not cut out for vlogging.

It was on Saturday’s run over the pass that I first encountered the small tarn and its reflecting views of Round Top beyond the pass to the south. The setting is perfect of some compositions of Round Top, a peak I have climbed several times, and I am sure astrophotography from the tarn would be special.

 

Carson Gap tarn. I waited for sunrise under a practically cloudless sky. Enjoyable for recon along the PCT south of Carson Pass. 1.8 sec, f/11, ISO 100; Canon 6D, 17-40mm (40mm).

This morning, the Monday of Labor Day, I was half-afraid I would find someone camped at the pond, but, as I crest the pass, coming immediately upon the tarn, I see I easily have it all to myself. Perfect, but for a rather uninteresting sky. Seems to be some low clouds to the east, out of sight but muting the sunrise so not much hitting Round Top. Nonetheless, there is a brief moment of goodness and I bracket some shots (2 stops around center). I position myself on on the north side of the pond to get some rushes in foreground and a slight mirror of the distant and striking Round Top. As the sun continues to rise, though still not in view, I get several more bracketed exposures, but the last image of Round Top appears to be the best, at least from the jpeg on the back of the camera.  I try another position further west to capture a few more clouds and reflections of Elephant Back.

Tarn and Elephant Back. It was worth a try. 1/8 sec, f/11, ISO 100; Canon 6D, 17-40mm (40mm, cropped).

I notice, as I am packing up to leave, a trail leading up the long ridge west of the tarn of Little Round Top, a minor but prominent highpoint northwest of Carson Pass. The unmarked trail diverges from the PCT in the brush along the south side of the tarn and heads upward to the northwest. It is worthy of a run soon, and I find a few good bivy spots. I will be sure to get back up here for a night of astrophotography.

I head back down to the trailhead carrying the camera with the 70-200mm telephoto, hoping for some wildlife. I left the tripod attached thinking that might be useful — really just a hindrance.  Although there are some cute birds twittering around, I am way too close to the trailhead for anything of interest. On the other hand, it is a very nice walk out.  I am back to the trailhead by 8AM and home by 9. Nice.