One of the clients even cried.

“Wait. I thought you said you had an ‘excellent time’, Dave?”

My client (who shall go un-identified) was seated next to me during one of our aerial photography sessions. I turned towards them mid-flight and caught the glint of a tear rolling down their cheek. I asked if everything was ok. The reply was so poignant.

“It’s overwhelming…”

I couldn’t have said it any better. At the time we were in a gentle right turn in our Cessna 180, banking low over the Bering Glacier. We had just spent the previous day at Childs Glacier, spending much of the afternoon standing a mere .19 miles from the calving face. Childs Glacier is an amazing sight, even for me (a ‘seasoned’ glacier enthusiast). It stands several hundred feet tall, directly across the raging Copper River – which undercuts the face of the glacier when water levels run high in early summer. The ‘terminus’ runs just under 2.5 miles across, and crawls steadily forward from its source, nearly 8 miles up-valley. 200-foot tall blocks of ice plummet downward and crash into the surging Copper River.

Impressive, to say the least.

Childs Glacier & Copper River - ©2011 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D Mk 2, Tokina 16-28/2.8 @ 16mm. 1/5" @ f/22, ISO 50)

Compare that to the Bering Glacier, the source of my clients current fascination. The calving face we were passing over runs over 4 miles across. But this is just a small ‘lobe’ of the Bering Glacier, a ‘branch’ off the main ‘trunk’, if you will. The full mass of the glacier can not be represented in numbers, at least not in a way that carries the immensity in a respectful tone. It is 46 miles wide at it’s terminus, and runs 140 miles into the Bagley Icefield. Together with the Bagley Icefield, the Bering Glacier System covers most of the core of the Chugach Mountains and encompasses a staggering 1,900 square miles.

Overwhelming? Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.

One of my favorite photos from the trip was from our flight back to the comforts of the lodge. We had just spent several hours on a very remote beach; miles of powder-like sand, incredible sea-stack islands, dense lupine fields, dozens of bald eagles and several fresh bear tracks wandering the beach.

And a whole lot of a solitude.

We were paralleling the western side of the Ragged Mountains, heading north.

How’s that for a proper moniker?

“Ragged” Mountains. They were true to their name.

I glanced out the window to my right, scanning a bit more ‘fore’ than ‘aft’. Compositions happen quickly in aerial photography, so you have to be ready at a moments notice. A composition that looks brilliant, but caught too late, on the first pass might completely change with slight altitude adjustments, a shift in cloud coverage or turbulence might make a second ‘try’ impossible. So ‘visualizing’ an image from 1/2 mile away (or far less) can make the difference between a great shot and an ‘any way I can get a mulligan’. It’s rare that I use golf terms, so that should carry some weight;)

Just in front and to our right, a patchwork of incredible beauty stretched out to the base of the Ragged’s. I have never seen an area so lush and full of early summer. The varieties of green spanned every shade – truly a rainbow of green. Pockmarking the pools of grass were lines of gray and turquoise – the mighty Copper River Delta spending it’s last energy as it neared the Gulf of Alaska, and the open ocean beyond. Ponds dotted the landscape, taller willows and trees lining each section of water. Laid out like a carefully sculpted and manicured golf course – water hazards everywhere. So many channels and waterways, so much undiscovered beauty, a land bordered by mountains and the ocean, but owning too little elevation change of its own after glaciers plowed over the Delta in the past ice age.

A nearly flat, yet utterly dynamic environment.

"Into the Labyrinth" - Copper River Delta, Alaska ©2011 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D Mk 2, Canon 24-105mm f/4L IS @ 32mm. 1/640" @ f/6.3, ISO 640)

It is a zone in transition, first ground to a level plane by crushing ice and rock, then divided and sectioned by rushing silt-laden and near freezing waters, and finally being swallowed whole by the ever present tidal changes of the North Pacific Ocean.

It took my breath away.

So much so, that I’m not sure if I’ll ever catch it.

Never heard of Cordova? You’re not the only one! I first visited Cordova 4 years ago, and have since gone back every year to make up for lost time. It is quite literally my favorite place in ALL of Alaska – quite probably the entire world. Yeah, it’s that extraordinary. But what sets it apart?

Photographer in lupine field, Sheridan Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 105mm, 1/200" @ f7.1, ISO 400)

Cordova could easily be called “Hidden, Alaska”. It is tucked back in Orca Inlet, on the eastern edge of Prince William Sound. It is remote, yet logistically fairly simple to get to. It’s just far enough ‘off the beaten track’ so that only the adventurous travelers get to experience its wonders. But we won’t be roughing it while on tour – oh no! We’re staying at one of the best adventure lodges in all of Alaska. In fact, our rooms sit just above the rocky shores of the Inlet. Very comfortable beds, outstanding meals prepared in “The Cantina”, deep history and the pristine location make this an extraordinary place to call home for the 7-day/6-night tour. Warm showers, electricity and wifi – all the comforts of home – just without those pesky neighbors or traffic! A waterfall tumbles off the mountains and through the rain forest, just to the north of our lodge. The lodge itself is an old cannery, and old dock pilings still jut out a bit into the Inlet. It is common to see bald eagles perched right outside our windows, and sea otters or harbor seals patrolling the waters.

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We will use a small skiff to access the protected waters in search of the numerous sea otters nearby. By ‘numerous’ I mean… hundreds! It is not unheard of to see ‘rafts’ of sea otters numbering in the 50′s. On one trip to this area, I saw a raft of sea otters that likely numbered several hundred! Inland, we will walk through the world’s northern most rainforest – The Chugach – and photograph the ancient trees, dripping mosses, and rushing streams of fresh glacial and snow melt as they course towards the ocean. In Alaska, it seems that you are always surrounded by the mountains – Cordova is no different, and they make for a very dramatic backdrop for our photography.

We will also visit 2 glaciers. The first we will actually be able to walk on (safe conditions permitting, of course). It’s leading edge is surrounded by beautiful and dense lupine flowers. It truly is an amazing location, glacier, ice, morraine, flowers, and surrounding peaks. We could probably spend the entire tour here, and never get bored! But Child’s Glacier beckons to us from near the end of the Copper River Highway. It’s face is several hundred feet tall and is usually in a very active ‘calving’ phase this time of year. We will spend several hours photographing this immense glacier from just .19 miles away.

So, just to recap just some of what Cordova has to offer:

Moose, black bear, bald eagles, sea otters, harbor seals, jellyfish, waterfalls, rain forest, glacial streams/rivers/lakes/ponds, glaciers, mountains, the largest river delta on the west coast, trumpeter swans, waterfowl, and immense emptiness! And likely, not another photo tour group in the region. Please check out the dedicated Cordova Tour Description page for more info, and please contact me with any questions or to sign up for the amazing and very unique photo tour. The last few seats are filling quickly!

Wild Lands & Wild Life: Denali Highway Fall Color Tour – 2011

Clearwater Mountain Sunrise, Alaska ©2011 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D Mk 2, 70-200L f4 IS @ 200mm. 1/5" @ f/16, ISO 200)

I’m also going to try something new out for the rest of 2011…

Want to make $100? I thought that might get your attention!

Meet the F.R.I.P. – Friend Referral Incentive Program. Don’t you just love acronyms…

5 easy steps:

• Post a link to my Alaskan Photo Tours & Workshops page on your personal blog, website, twitter, and/or Facebook page.
• Refer a photographer friend (or friends) to my 2011 Alaskan Photo Tours & Workshops page
• Have them sign up for a 2011 photo tour with me & mention you as a referral with a way to contact you
• The client must complete the photo tour
• Check your mail for a $100 check

Restrictions?

• Well, you can’t refer yourself. But yes, your wife/husband can…
• The client must complete the photo tour before you get your $100 check
• NO restrictions on the number of clients you can refer, except for tour size limits. Refer 4 people that complete any tour, get $400!
• In order to qualify, you must post a link to my Alaskan Photo Tours & Workshops page on your personal blog, website, twitter, and/or Facebook page.

If you are already a client on an upcoming tour  (or a previous tour) and you refer another new client, you get $200! Again, no limit on the number of people – except until tours are full for 2011. That on top of the already-in-place $200 off for any returning client, and you can really add up some savings!

Not too shabby, huh? Time to start spreading the word!

We were disheartened, and immediately started to consider backup plans. None of which included the large expanse of beauty surrounding us. We thought of hiking all the way back to the car and driving further south to scout other locations. But we both hesitated when we saw another trail branching off. It hadn’t seen the same use as the main trail, but as Robert Frost once beautifully wrote,

“I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.”

No, this image wasn’t created while taking this less used trail. It happened because we stuck around and explored. Instead of packing up our gear and heading for a different location, we settled in and embraced our surroundings. In turn, Winter embraced us.

This seems to be a recurring theme with me. I’ve taken paths less traveled throughout my life. Sure, I went to college. And like many others, I dropped out. But I did it with style, I did it twice. I got a great job with a great group of people in my hometown. It was where I was comfortable, the job was comfortable, the future I saw was… comfortable. I saw myself in five years with a wife, a nice 3 bedroom ranch-style home, two and a half kids and a mortgage. Very soon, that future became less comfortable. In it’s predictability it became dull. Early on I adopted the writing of another writer, Marcel Proust,

“The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.”

But I needed new landscapes. I needed a new voyage. And perhaps I reasoned that those landscapes needed to be seen with my new eyes. So I set my eyes on Alaska, and upon developing my photography in “The Great Land”. Marcel Proust also wrote about dreaming,

“If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more. To dream all the time.”

I decided to stop dreaming of Alaska and a career in photography and take a chance. My dream became my reality. I took a path that may not have been as comfortable for me, or my parents. But they grew to accept it and have always supported my path. It was a path less traveled by. And it, like my families support, has made all the difference.

"Winter's Embrace", Chugach National Forest ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D Mk 2, 24-105 @ 24mm. 1/13" @ f16, ISO 200. Singh-Ray 2 Stop Soft-Edge Grad ND)

Although this particular image is only a few days old, this scene has been acting out each winter for ages. I just happened to stumble upon it this go around. As day gave way to night, the forest closed in and embraced us once again.

How many times has similar light settled in across this valley, brushed across those trees, glanced upon that mountain, and bathed that cold sky in warmth? Certainly it has done so before and will do so again. Some sunsets are more spectacular, some less – these are “The Challengers”, and they always return.

This was a good afternoon, and if for no other reason than to see “The Challengers”, I will return too.

Consider your path through life. Are you “comfortable” in it? Or is there a path that would make all the difference?

This image has been added to my “Best Nature Photos of 2010″ Gallery.

____________________

“Paths Less Taken”

I have a 2 seats left in the “Aurora, Winter Landscapes & Wildlife Photo AdvenTour” from March 26-31, 2011. So if you are looking for a path definitely less taken, this might be right up your alley. Click here to view the aurora photo tour description page.

Also available are a few seats on my “Cordova: Wild Lands & Wild Life” Photo Tour. This is a one-of-a-kind Alaska destination. It is less visited and holds an amazing variety of subjects that have not been shot to death like so many other places. Imagine, just a small group of like-minded photographers around you, surrounded by an amazing wilderness of glaciers, mountains, rainforest, ocean and sky. All while staying at a beautiful coastal adventure lodge… How does that sound? Click here to view this unique Alaskan photo tour description page.

Wild Lupine and Sheridan Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D Mk 2, 24-105 @ 24mm. 1/40" @ f/16. ISO 200. B+W CPL)

Stay tuned…

How many?

Oh… around 5 million. Give or take.

Two photography tips for this location in May? Yeah… you’ll thank me later.

Tip #1 – Wear rain gear at all times. Might be a good idea for your camera gear too.

Tip #2 – Don’t EVER look up with your mouth open. Those aren’t wet snow flakes. Well, they may be. But do you really want to take that chance?

You’re welcome.

Hartney Slough Twilight Pano. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North - CLICK TO ENLARGE

Annnnnnyway. In mid June, there are less birds and associated poop to dodge.

The grass that grows in Hartney Slough is thick and lush green.

The river is constantly changing appearance. When the tide is out, it is just few feet deep and is mainly clear with a light silty tint to it. When the tide comes back in, the river creeps up the grassy banks of the slough and takes on a beautiful milky blue cast. Evidence of it’s glacial source.

This place, where ocean meets land, embodies the Prince William Sound. Perhaps all of Alaska. It is snow falling high in the mountains, compacting to ice over eons, drifting slowly & inexorably downhill. It crushes those same mountains into rock, pebbles, and fine powder. The glaciers melt and carry the same silt downstream, tumbling through deep dark rainforest. It collects fallen trees, leaves, and plant life and carries them through the sloughs and finally the sea. This is life, death, and rebirth.

And everything in between.

Moose and Calves. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 100-400 @ 310mm. 1/60" at f6.3, ISO 3200)

Stay tuned.

The chamber where he was kneeling could easily accommodate a standing 6 foot tall man, with probably 2 feet of headroom to go – although it was fairly narrow at that point. There was a secondary chamber beyond that was shorter. I visited it for a short time, but it was too confining (for my tastes and for my photography:D).

Photographer kneeling in ice cave within the Sheridan Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North

Stay tuned.

Sometimes, pictures fall short.

Sometimes, a location hits you so hard that it literally changes your outlook.

It sets your mind reeling, sways your body, and makes your heart long to return – even before you’ve left.

For me, Cordova is that place.

The old saying is so appropriate. “Life is not about how many breaths you take, but how many moments take your breath away.”

I just returned from leading a small group photo tour to Cordova, on the eastern edge of Prince William Sound. Cordova is one of my favorite places on the planet – off the beaten path, yet logistically possible. It holds great variety: ocean, coastline, rainforest, mountains, glaciers, immense river delta. For photographers – it truly is the undiscovered country. I’m already planning a longer tour for next year – shoot me an email if you are interested in traveling to this incredible land – you won’t regret it.

Over the next couple of posts, I’ll be sharing some images from this recent tour. I may not say much, because I can’t adequately describe this place – perhaps that speaks loudest. For me, the images will always fall short – that’s what keeps me going & gives me good reason to return. My mind is still reeling, my body still swaying (some of that is due to our time on the water shooting sea otters), and my heart longs to return.

This first post is dedicated to the Sheridan Glacier. I’m still trying to catch my breath.

Lining the trail to the glacier, and then rimming the hills overlooking it were fields of lupine. We caught them at their prime.

Photographer in lupine field, Sheridan Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 105mm, 1/200" @ f7.1, ISO 400)

But the real adventure lay within the glacier. Now, a quick note. Glacier travel is inherently dangerous. I recommend traveling with a glacier guide if at all possible and respect the glacier’s ability to swallow you whole. I also recommend never going inside a glacial ice cave – they are one of the more dangerous aspects to a glacier. Seriously.

Now that I have that out of the way…

This particular cave was perhaps 30 feet deep and around 8 feet tall at the center. My 3 trips inside were perhaps the scariest yet most amazing I’ve had behind a camera. The blue is unbelievable. The sense of claustrophobia chokes you. The photographic opportunities were mind boggling. I wish I had more time, but these things can collapse at any moment. The only thing better than being inside an ice cave with your camera, is coming out again with photographs.

Ice Cave, Sheridan Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5d mk 2, 24-105 @ 24mm. 1/4" @ f16, ISO 400)

Ice Cave, Sheridan Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 24mm. 1/3" @ f16, ISO 400)

Ice Cave, Sheridan Glacier, Alaska ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 24mm, 1/2" @ f16, ISO 400)

I have lots more photos to post.

Stay tuned.

]]> http://sixtyonenorth.com/2010/06/a-sapphire-funhouse/feed/ 7 http://sixtyonenorth.com/2010/06/dirt-is-beautiful/ http://sixtyonenorth.com/2010/06/dirt-is-beautiful/#comments Tue, 08 Jun 2010 05:02:05 +0000 admin http://sixtyonenorth.com/wp/?p=1134 Yeah. I said it.

I love dirt.

Rather, I love silt. Glacial silt to be specific. Glacial silt is velvety, the granules are so small that it is more like a powder, or talc. A few weekends ago, Jena and I went out to the Matanuska Glacier. Watching someone who has never seen a glacier before (other than in photographs and videos) standing atop one is a a great experience.

Jena Jumping a Melt Stream, Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North

Something changes in a person when they witness something so gigantic beneath their feet. Something that has seen so much history. Something that starts as a light, ephemeral snow flake. It is hard to conceive that that same snow flake can slice through a mountain, carve valleys, and transform a landscape completely over many millennia. The things that glacier has witnessed; ice ages, devastating earthquakes, volcanoes erupting then becoming dormant and repeating the cycle. Forests growing from grasslands newly seeded, then plowed over by the advancing ice sheet. Ancient people. Mammoth, sabre toothed tigers, and gazelles on a continent that would become known as North America. We are but a flash in a pan compared to the enduring legacy of the glacier.

Glacial Silt Pattern, Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 105mm, 1/160" @ f/10, ISO 400)

If we are lucky, we may walk this land for 100 years. Many glaciers are several thousands of years old. Sometimes, they are much older. As the snow falls in the mountains, it is compressed over time by later flurries and blizzards. When there is enough weight, the air is compressed as the snow becomes ice. The weight of the ice is pulled down hill. If there is enough weight and enough ice, it will level/carve/grind through anything in its way.

Glacial Silt Pattern, Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 105mm, 1/160" @ f/10, ISO 400)

Glacial Silt Pattern, Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 105mm, 1/500" @ f/8, ISO 400)

As the ice sheet flows down over rock and earth, mountains are ground down to large boulders, rocks, pebbles, then into silt. These pieces are carried along on top of and within the ice strata. Finally, when the ice reaches the end of its journey, the silt is flushed away from melt water and deposited for miles in front of the glacier. Sometimes, hundreds of miles from its source.

Glacial Silt Pattern, Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 105mm, 1/250" @ f/11, ISO 400)

Glacial Silt Pattern, Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 105mm, 1/400" @ f/8, ISO 400)

The patterns glacial silt take on can be mesmerizing; swirls, strata, etchings, dunes and channels. The variety is endless, as are the colors and textures. It’s a playground for intimate landscape photographs – not quite macros, and not landscapes. These are the remnants of ancient mountain ranges, from lands that were never witnessed by human eyes. Standing atop the Matanuska Glacier, I reached down and cradled a small fistful of damp silt in my right hand. In that moment, I held a mountain and stood atop the ruins of countless others.

Glacial Silt Pattern, Matanuska Glacier, Alaska. ©2010 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D mk 2, 24-105 @ 105mm, 1/200" @ f/5, ISO 400)

Stay tuned…

The world’s moving so fast, the man who says it can’t be done is interrupted by someone doing it.

- Elbert Hubbard

2010 will be the 6th straight year that I’ve been shooting solely in Alaska. In truth, it feels as if I’ve just arrived. Everything is still new and fresh to me, even though I have experienced it (whatever “it” is) several times now, in most cases. I’ve witnessed glaciers calving, both from a boat and from just across a raging river. I’ve seen humpback whales hurling their 40 ton bodies into the air, then the added blessing of seeing young whales being nurtured by mothers.

Breaching Humpback Whale, Kenai Fjords National Park - Copyright 2007 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North

I’ve watched pods of orca actively hunting, and sea otters frolicking in water so close that I could literally reach out and touch them (Dave Taylor & Sixtyone North take no responsibility for missing digits and or limbs in this pursuit – darn lawyers…). I’ve been 18 inches from a wild 800 pound brown bear on the Katmai Coast and a few feet from Dall sheep – including large rams, ewes and a very young lamb.

New Shorts - Courtesy & Copyright 2008 Tim Smith

Dall Sheep Ewe & Lamb - Copyright 2007 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North

I’ve stood atop glaciers as they shuddered beneath during an “ice quake”, and rappelled deep into crevasses to catch a glimpse of their “inner workings”.

Child's Glacier Detail - Copyright 2009 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North

I have witnessed incredible sunrises and sunsets in some of the most remote and beautiful country anywhere on the planet. It has been a brilliant 5 years, the best of my life to be certain. If it were to all end tomorrow I would be happy with my life and the things I had seen. However, I look forward to many more “5 year reflections”. I have taken many photos and will continue to do so (insert omnipresent deity of your choice here) willing.
But what have I given back in return? Sure, I still offer free advice to photographers planning a trip to “America’s Last Frontier”, and I offer instructional photo workshops & tours throughout this great state. But what have I given back to our community, or our environment – from which I’ve taken so much?

A Note on Personal Projects

What is Your Project?

So here is my challenge for you. What can you do in your community? What project can you undertake? Big or small. Self indulgent or awareness/movement building. How can your photography make a difference? After all, you’ve been taking pictures for a long time too? Is it time for you to give back? Do you have a project, either a consideration or something that you are actively pursuing? Post it below in the comments & invite everyone along for the ride.

Here are a few more points from my latest presentation, in closing.

• Do not wait for opportunities to come along
• Create them and maximize their potential
• Do not wait for things to fall into place
• Put them there
• There isn’t anyone who will work as hard as you, for you
• If there is, you aren’t pushing yourself hard enough

Go big.

Stay tuned…