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.

Print of the Month for May, 2011 – “The Glow of Spring – #002″
Every year, I return to Cordova, Alaska. Simply put, it is one of the most spectacular locations on our planet – for photography and for escaping city life. The variety available in this region staggers me; ocean, rain forest, glaciers, mountains, ponds, lakes, marshes, meadows, streams and rivers. Then there is the wildlife! Moose, bear, wolverine, sea otters, bald eagles, trumpeter swans and so much more. My photo tour also coincides with the massive wildflower bloom in mid-late June. Fields of lupine, dotted with buttercup, columbine, bunchberry, yellow pond-lillies, and many other varieties.
The brilliant yellow of the buttercup in this image contrasts nicely with the deep blue-purple of the out of focus lupine. I wanted to really emphasize the range of color in the scene, and simplify the composition by focusing on a very specific, and beautiful, ‘vein’ detail on a single flower petal. For me, these incredible details are the essence of Alaska – gorgeous color surrounded by stunning vistas. I remember the day this image was made as if it was yesterday. A crisp morning and very light mist greeted me as I opened the door to the porch in front of our lodge; gentle waves lapped at the shores of Orca Inlet, just a few feet below the wood railing in front of me. I could smell the ocean and surrounding rain forest, a wonderfully fresh smell. I could almost hear the ancient trees behind our lodge creaking their invitation to me, so I took an early morning hike along on old game trail. I half expected to see a black bear wondering amongst the thick timbers, but it was only my feet that fell on the moss-cushioned forest floor. Every now and then, the trees would creak again in the soft breaze or a bald eagle would shreak overhead. They beckoned me onward. Before long, it was nearing lunch, so I headed back to the lodge and had a light meal. Then I headed out along the Copper River Highway, towards the Delta. Lining the roadside were thick patches of wildflowers. I tried several compositions, many of them were uncompelling. There was still a slight breeze, so as I set up this shot I had to wait for the wind to die in order to get a sharp image. The wait was worth it – it allowed me to ‘settle’ into the landscape even more, becoming more aware of what it was that attracted me to this location.
Rich, contrasting color and the simple form of a beautiful specimen of Pacific Buttercup set against thousands of Arctic Lupine.

Bring a piece of Alaska into your home or office.
I’m offering this print as the first of my new Print of the Month Collectors Edition. Each print is custom made by the master printers at West Coast Imaging and measures 20″ x 30″. The image is printed on a vibrant ‘super gloss’ paper, then sandwiched between a flame polished acrylic sheet and a dibond backing. This mounting method is extremely rigid and is supported by a unique ‘french cleat’. This design allows the print to seemingly float in front of your wall. There is no additional framing needed, and the print is delivered to your doorstep ready to hang. This 20″ x 30″ print is being made available for a special introductory price of only $375, that is $125 off! This is a beautiful print; rich in color, depth and detail. It will literally leap off the wall at you and help you think of summer in Alaska, year round.
Print orders will be sent to the printer around June 1st, and will ship direct from the printer shortly thereafter. If you are interested in purchasing this (or any other image) as a premium print, please email me.

I don’t work much in black & white photography. I think I must be the only photographer that skipped past the darkroom and dove directly into chromes. Well, let me make one thing clear – I never ‘skipped’. And no, there was no ‘prancing’, either. It’s always funny, talking with other photographers whose career started before the advent of digital – many of them speak with a great reverence and that certain ‘twinkle’ in their eye(s) when it comes to the time they used to spend in the darkroom.

“I really miss the smell”. Of chemicals? Rancid developers, horrid fixer baths, and acrid sweat drenched trays? Oh, sure… I see where one could learn to love that kinda thing… Not.

One wonders, when an ex-photographer enters politics, you never hear them say, “I never inhaled”…

Oh, that’s right. There’s no such thing as an ‘ex-photographer’. And none lack enough intelligence to enter the political arena. And…. off my soapbox.

I never felt the allure of the darkroom; with the red lights and cancer-inducing toxins. I can’t even say that it was my generation, because several of my friends truly enjoyed their time in the darkroom. I’m sure they never inhaled, too.

For me, I was intensely drawn to ‘color’. I didn’t see the world in black, white and shades of gray, so I had a difficult time transforming the world I saw (in all of its beautiful hues) into a monochrome fantasy. Even though I loved the work of Ansel Adams, I was rarely compelled to attempt to emulate him. Instead, I drew more from the likes of Galen Rowell, David Muench, Jim Brandenburg and the other masters. Each of these photographers are (or ‘were’, for the late, great Galen Rowell) known primarily for their color photography.

But every now-and-then, I feel drawn towards this monochromatic medium. There can be a subtle richness to the ‘color’ within a black & white image. A velvety feel in some prints, and an abrasive roughness to others. Black & white photography forces the photographer to focus their creativity on composition, light, form and texture. When color is abandoned, all you are left with is light.

"Bridging the Gap". Chugach National Forest, Alaska. ©2011 Dave Taylor/Sixtyone North (Canon 5D Mk 2, Canon 24-105 @ 40mm. 6" @ f/16, ISO 100. B+W C-PL).

This past Saturday, I was joined by Jena and my good friend Scott Slone (of Alaska HDTV & Perfect Blend Media) on a rainforest hike in Portage Valley. It was the consummate Spring day in Alaska. Rainy, overcast, and more than a little gloomy. But, as the saying goes, “when life hands you lemons, make lemonade”.

This section of rainforest is very easy to get to, but only if you know just where to look for it. Once under the dense canopy, the lower branches of the Sitka Spruce are draped under locks of dripping cat-tail moss, and the forest floor is a rolling carpet of dense green white-toothed peatmoss. It is a damp environment, even on sunny days. The different mosses and liverworts act as a sound-dampening material, and most of the outside world is drowned out as the forest begs you deeper. Before long, you’ve walked a 1/2 mile into the ancient woods and the forest has enveloped you. The only sounds are those of creaking trees and branches, the faint rustling of leaves, and dripping water falling into small puddles on the forest floor. Somewhere, an eagle shrieks, a forlorn cry quickly muffled by the deep forest.

Scott and I scouted this area last weekend (again, in the rain). These two trees lurch out of the ground and spread their root systems up against the mountain side, the terrain becoming much steeper just feet behind this forbidding tangle. I was instantly drawn to the shapes they created; embracing but not quite holding each other, falling apart but not quite separated. Struggling to maintain their existence at the border between mountain and forest. The second image was taken from a small rise, perched somewhat precariously on another moss covered root system. The first photograph was taken from directly below the trees; a wide-angle lens was used to exaggerate the arching of the roots – which (I believe) accurately documents their perilous footing. Each was processed in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom and Photoshop CS5; including some cloning of minor deadfall twigs (that, as usual, are better left where they fell), contrast adjustments, dodging and burning, and a slight vignette to the edge of each frame.

I’m very interested in which photograph you prefer, and why. Or do you recommend I give up and take up basket weaving?  I happen to like them both, equally – yet for different reasons. Please consider voicing your opinion(s) in the comments. I really appreciate your feedback.

Stay tuned…

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.

[Show as slideshow]

[View with PicLens]

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: Cordova – Alaska photo tour description.

Update – only 4 spots available!

Lupine Field & Glacier

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/2010/01/announcement-project-black-blue/ http://sixtyonenorth.com/2010/01/announcement-project-black-blue/#comments Wed, 27 Jan 2010 05:26:26 +0000 admin http://sixtyonenorth.com/wp/?p=1002

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…