This year was my second trip to Hawaii and my first time traveling to Kauai. Last year my wife and I birded the Big Island, walked on lava under the stars, and paid our tributes to Pearl Harbor. We were anxious to revisit these amazing islands to learn about and enjoy their diversity, ecology, and warmth! I was especially excited to extend on opportunities for photography and recently shared an article on endemic birds. There! Now you are caught up with the past, I will tell you more about the rest of my trip by taking you through some photos and experiences!
When I am shooting an image I like to ask myself “what is the purpose of this image? what story does it have to tell?”. I have included 19 images below as a cross section of thousands of images made and experiences had during the trip. They showcase the night sky, the birds, landscapes, and diversity of my experience. I hope you enjoy my anecdotes of enjoying Hawaii and gain appreciation of the time it took to make these images!
Landscapes
We arrived in Kona, HI at 9:30 PM and had to drive across the island to Hilo to our lodging. As we crossed the saddle at Mauna Kea (Hawaii’s tallest mountain) I told my wife, “we should go see if the stars are any good tonight!”. We ascended to 8,000 feet and with clear skies I was soon sucked into a time vacuum. I photographed until 4AM – my wife is a trooper! This star spin is looking South and shows off how little light pollution there. Coupling that with the thin air makes for incredible star-gazing! My time on Mauna Kea was the first time I have seen the Southern Cross!Waimea Canyon on Kauai is nicknamed the “Grand Canyon of Hawaii”. During our 5 days on the Island we visited this canyon 4 different times. Each time the light and setting had something new to offer. I loved how the sun rays streaked through the haze and clouds in this scene. Waipo’o Falls coming in from the side is just icing on the cake!I took the time to visit Waimea Canyon at night, too! I used the moonlight to capture Waipo’o falls and the clouds streaking overhead. I knew the moon’s light would really show off the red cliffs well! This star spin looks north over Mauna Kea. A lone car is cresting the hillside and really adds to the scene. I chose this location because of how desolate it feels! The volcanic fields are too high, cold, and lack nutrients to grow vegetation. I feel like this image could have been captured on Mars! The star spin is 2-hours long. At over 440 feet, Akaka Falls is a very large falls. I had to sneak in between bus-loads of tourists to make this shot, and focused on the lush vegetation to give it a paradise-like feel. I used neutral density filters so I could shoot a very long exposure and smooth out the flowing water. Mauna Kea is renowned for its Milky Way and Star-gazing opportunity. Thin air and almost no light pollution make it one of the best places to view the stars in the world! At 2:30 AM the Milky Way rose over the southwest horizon. Distant lights of Hilo and the foreground corpse of a Mamane tree make this one of my favorite Milky Way shots to date!
Birds
I thought it was peculiar that we found this Laysan Albatross nesting in urban conditions. I’m not sure why it choose to do that, but I have a hunch it’s because during their long lifespan of up to 40 years new developments were established on their traditional nesting areas. The Nene (Hawaiian Goose) is a conservation success story. Their numbers dwindled to only 30 birds in 1960 but now number over 3,000 on all the Hawaiian Islands! Throughout the trip I was looking for a “crushing” Nene shot to show off their beauty and unique markings. I was rewarded with this image while birding in Hanalei!At the Kilauea Lighthouse we enjoyed a high-abundance of seabirds such as Laysan Albatross, Red-tailed Tropic Birds, White-tailed Tropic Birds, Magnificent Frigate Birds, and Brown Boobies. The most prevalent were Red-footed Boobies. They flocked by the hundreds to the cliffs to roost with their mates. This male Red-footed Booby put in a lot of efforts to break this branch from a cyprus. It took him several minutes of antics and balancing to be successful. He may use it in his nest or just carry it around to impress females before dropping it. The first evening we visited Kilauea Lighthouse the setting sun lit up a waxing moon. I knew I wanted to capture the soaring Red-footed Boobies in front of it, but also knew it was going to be a challenge to get a clean shot! I set up my camera on the moon and chose a focus distance that most of the birds seemed to be flying at. I was rewarded with this image! Pueo (Hawaiian Short-eared Owl) were an amazing addition to our trip. I believe between the Big Island and Kauai we saw over 20 of them! I caught this bird soaring over the grasslands in search of food.
The Coast
Hawaii is renowned for its sunsets and with almost 11 days of sun during our trip we got to enjoy several great ones. On our second evening in Kauai, we whittled the end of the day away by watching from the beaches of Puiko. I found a calm pool where I could tie together corals with the setting sun. As the last of the sun disappeared behind the horizon it was saluted by three sail boat sentinels. I shot this image at 150 mm to capture the boats along with the sunset. Small waves mixed with the textures and colors of the volcanic rock of Kauai’s shore. I tried to stay “present” while shooting this scene by both enjoying the smells and sights of it while photographing it. I love the slow motion of the incoming surf. During this sunset at Kilauea Lighthouse a huge surf was crashing against the rocks. Although it was hard to tell how big the waves were, a 40-50 foot swell was forecasted for the area. I sought to capture the mood and drama of the scene by shooting a very long exposure to flatten out the sea. This image is 8 minutes long! I love the contrast between the lit lighthouse and the shadows of the cliff. We did some snorkeling in the lava “fingers” outside of Puako on the Big Island. In between the fingers the water was 50 feet or more and the volcanic walls were covered in amazing corals and life such as this Pencil Urchin. I cannot even begin to describe the color and diversity of the fish we saw!
Miscellaneous
This is noisiest invasive species in Hawaii! the Coqui Frog are very hard to spot and spend most of their time in water pools of Bromiliads and other plants. They were introduced in the 1990s, and in the current day have populations in the thousands per acre! In many areas, they are the predominant sound in the forest. The Mules Foot Fern looks to be from prehistoric times! These giant ferns look like a “regular” fern scaled up 10 or 20 times and may be 10 feet tall. Growing fiddle heads are 3-4 inches in diameter and these fronts are almost an inch wide each!
I cannot wait to visit Hawaii again! These images help tell a story that I look forward to growing in the future. If you do not do so currently, please sign up for my website updates, following me on Facebook or Instagram. Cheers!
Another year come and gone! This year has been nothing short of life-changing. I graduated with my masters in Wildlife from the University of Alaska Fairbanks, moved from the Interior to the incredible Southeast Alaska, married the love of my life, and have a job I love! Life is great, and life has left me less time to blog recently (lack of time compounded by no internet at my house). However, that doesn’t mean that my camera has been sitting picking up dust in the corner. On the contrary I’ve been out photographing the wild beauty of Hoonah and Alaska all year. Some of these images from 2016 have made their way onto Facebook. You can “like ” my page for daily photo updates at www.facebook.com/ianlww. For other images this is the first time they’ve been shown off! Previous year-end recaps have been in different formats such as dividing by month in 2014 and dividing by topic in 2015. This year I’m just going to scrap the text and the give you the top shots 2016 from around Alaska. I hope you enjoy!
The aurora borealis flares up over Castner Glacier, Delta Junction, Alaska
Macro shot of a beautifu
The Milky Way and Aurora stretch over Port Frederick in Hoonah, Alaska
A mature humpback whale breaches in Hoonah, Alaska.
The city of Haines sits below jutting mountains.
Milky Way at Twelvemile Summit, Steese Highway, Alaska
An incredible display of Aurora reflects of the ocean and highlights the islands outside of Sitka, Alaska.
Each of the paddlers pulling their weight during the maiden voyage.
American Pine Marten on Chichagof Island near Hoonah, Alaska.
An American Dipper perches with a mouthfull of food that it just scavenged from the river’s bottom.
Broad-leaf Gentians at 3,000 feet above Hoonah
Master Carver Wayne Price wears the newly woven canoe shawl.
A mature Bald Eagle takes a break from cleaning up a seal carcass at Icy Strait Point
Incredibly I have been in Hoonah, Alaska for an entire week already. There is so much to see, learn, and do in Southeast Alaska that I cannot wait to dive into life here more fully, but I hope to give you a small taste of what I have experienced up this point and foreshadow future opportunities.
Seeing as the community is along the rich waters of Port Frederick and the Pacific Ocean there is strong interest in the cycles of fish. The chatter throughout town is that the herring will be here any day and will fuel an entire diverse ecosystem. Once they arrive the whales, salmon, halibut, eagles, bears, and much more will all follow in short order. Four types of salmon may be commonly caught by simply casting a spoon from shore, and if you have a boat, the opportunity of a 300 pound halibut is just a stones throw away. I was told that whales bubble feed underneath the docks on the Hoonah Harbor. The waters here are so clear that if they are near the docks you can likely watch their underwater feeding before they break the surface. Once the salmon are in the rivers, the highest concentration of brown bears in the world will flock to the rivers to fatten up on salmon for the winter. All of these wildlife will present photographic opportunities that I cannot wait to shoot!
Clouds and rain are a staple of Southeast Alaska and fuel the temperate rain forests containing mammoth spruces, hemlocks and cedars growing to over 200 feet in height. Some regions of Southeast receive over 200 inches of rain each year and never seem to have cloudless nights. To my delight I was presented with a relative rarity in Southeast Alaska : clear skies. There are very few large towns in Southeast and light pollution is minimal. The conditions are perfect for night photography. I ambled my truck filled with camera gear high above the ocean to Gobbler’s Knob. From there the Milky Way stretched out in front of me and the aurora emanated from the far northern horizon. I listened to the sound of Long-tailed Ducks from the ocean below, the rumbled of diesel boats, and my own heartbeat. Certainly a memorable night more easily expressed through photos! The photographs below are a slice from Hoonah which I look forward to embellishing on and bringing your more of!
The ferry of the Alaska Marine Highway System drops me off in Hoonah, Alaska.
The rivers of Southeast Alaska are fed by high rainfall and snowpack from the mountains. They flow through a lush temperate rainforest.
Old hemlock or spruce criss-cross over a fast-flowing river in Hoonah, Alaska
A vibrant sunset reflects off the inter-tidal zone in Hoonah, Alaska
Sunset at Icy Strait Point
Panoramic image of an incredible sunset at Icy Strait Point.
A Great Blue Heron perches in the last light of day
The Milky Way and Aurora stretch over Port Frederick in Hoonah, Alaska
The Milky Way and Aurora stretch over Port Frederick in Hoonah, Alaska
The Milky Way and Aurora stretch over Port Frederick in Hoonah, Alaska
A single image capturing the beauty of the Milky Way from Hoonah, Alaska
Alone on Gobber’s Knob, but accompanied by the aurora and the Milky Way.
As the tide goes out, hundreds of star fish are found along the shoreline of Hoonah.
A blue mussel clings to the rocks exposed by low tide at Icy Strait Point
Seals are common here in Hoonah, although I am not sure of the species on this particular one.
Stellar’s Jay at Icy Strait Point
Ear Mountain rises up above the road to 3,400 feet from sea level.
A bit of aurora borealis in Hoonah, Alaska
Humpback whales swim up and down Port Frederick. They are only just arriving, and sightings close to shore along the docks will be common!
A mature bald eagle feeds on the remains of seal along the shoreline of Icy Strait Point
A mature bald eagle feeds on the remains of seal along the shoreline of Icy Strait Point
A Common Raven awaits a chance at a meal of seal.
A Common Raven makes his move and sneaks in for a bit of seal meat at Icy Strait Point
A mature Bald Eagle takes a break from cleaning up a seal carcass at Icy Strait Point
I do not know why the stark beauty of the Lake Superior coast surprised me so much; before, I had lived on its shores four years. In front of me, the grey sky mirrored the pale ice of the shoreline, and as I walked to the edge of Gitchigumi’s ice encased coast at Gooseberry State Park I was captivated. Short waves in the small cove which curled out in front of me lapped at the shoreline and imperceptibly built up icicles that hung from ice ledges. The icicles were shaped like alligator teeth and seemed to dangle from the frozen mouth of a gigantic beast. Every rock was encased in a sheet of ice built up one splash of water at a time. A careful cross-section of ice from on top of the rock would reveal that stone was at the core of an arctic onion.
A large rock encased in ice at Gooseberry Falls, State Park.
The gray skies dramatically offset the beauty of this ice island.
Icicles hang like alligator teeth along the shore of Lake Superior.
A jetty sticks out from Gooseberry Falls, State Park and is covered in ice.
As the sunset emerged from behind the clouds, the colors created a beautiful coast.
The pebbles along the shoreline will likely stay along the coast until thaw, trapped in their icy bonds.
A small passage of water between two ice ledges along the shore of Lake Superior.
The ice was inspiring to look at from a macro and micro scale. By getting close and touching my nose to the ice, I observed some the miniscule details contributing to the grand-scale beauty. On the rocks, a result of the layers of water was gray-and-white banded textures mimicking the agates Lake Superior is so famous for. They were polished to perfection. Colorful yellow lichens, tufted grasses, and rich green mosses were preserved on the rocks behind clear windows of curved ice. The magnifying effect of the curve threw pieces of the lichen out of proportion, and the the splashes of bright color they provided were in stark contrast to the granite. As I pressed my face close and looked, it was impossible to guess how some of the textures had formed. In some instances, it seemed that some of the small pebbles trapped in the ice had received just enough sun to melt and separate themselves. The small void they left above their surface was filled with alternating grains and patterns. Reflecting on it now, everything looks a bit different when you observe the essence of a landscape.
Patterns in the ice along Lake Superior mimicked agates which it is so famous for!
Patterns in the ice along Lake Superior mimicked agates which it is so famous for!
Patterns in the ice along Lake Superior mimicked agates which it is so famous for!
The ice encapsulated many things like this grass. Its like a paintbrush that was never properly cleaned.
Some of this lichen is out of the ice and some of it in. It shows off the altering effect of the ice on its proportions.
These small pebbles are underneath the ice, but managed to melt away just far enough to leave a void and incredible textures!
Small pebbles, some no larger than a lentil are brought to life in this macro shot of stone and ice.
This pebble sitting on top of another seems to be reflected.
One of the greatest joys of the afternoon was when the sun dissolved through the flat gray skies as a radiant sunset. The grey ice ledges and icicles no longer blended into the background colors of the horizon but instead reflected and bounced the many colors of the sky. The Lake Superior coast was transformed. Translucent icicles absorbed and emitted the sunset’s light. Rays of sun illuminated the rock islands encased in ice. Blue skies and orange clouds floated overhead and were pushed by the wind. Throughout it all I counted my blessings and documented its beauty. As the sun finally set I returned to my car feeling like I had been at just the right place, at just the right time.
The sunset bounces off the curved icy bubbles on the shoreline.
These small icicles absorb and seem to emit the colors of the sunset behind them.
You may have noticed throughout the post that the water of Lake Superior was flat. That is due to a the long exposures that I used to emphasize the beauty of the ice. This image does not use a long exposure and shows a small wave breaking over the rocks.
You are sitting on a warm, tropical, beach drinking a margarita. As you watch the day wane away the sun dips lower on the ocean horizon, and the landscape transforms into brilliant oranges and purples. Behind you the palm trees are bathed in orange, and the landscape has taken on incredible colors with accentuated shadows of even the shortest plant or sandcastle. Almost certainly you bring out your cell phone or camera, because, like all photographers, you find the beauty of the Golden Hour to be irresistible, and you know the peak experience will be short lived. Perhaps you even think to yourself that you wish the beauty of that light could last forever. What if it could?
The Golden Hour is also called the “magic hour” and for a landscape photographer there is no better time to be outside. The terms refer to the period of time when the sun is 6 degrees or less from the horizon. In many regions, like the balmy beach scene above, the moment as the sun sweeps through that 6 degree sweet-spot is relatively short. However, in Polar regions like Alaska, the winter sun has such as a low, southern trajectory, that the sunset-like colors almost never fade.
There are a variety of tools, apps, and websites to calculate the solar angle at your location. I used the NOAA ESRL Sun Position Calculator to determine that in Fairbanks the sun dips to the 6 degree mark on October 24th, 2015 and will remain below 6 degrees until February 26th, 2016. To illustrate the effect of the polar magic hour the images below showcase the colors, and shadows achieved by the low-lying sun. For 3 months, the silver lining of our short, winter days is a luxurious landscape lit by an eternal Golden Hour.
Golden Hour Sunset at the University of Alaska, Fairbanks.
The golden hour casts long shadow, even filling in these fox tracks.
The light of the Golden Hour turns the landscapes into shades of pink, red, and orange.
Long shadows casts by the low sun.
The light of the golden hour pouring through a valley at Angel Rocks, Alaska.
The beginning of the Golden Hour reflecting off the trees and a tributary to the Chena River.
Subtle shades of pink during the Golden Hour.
Shades of pink and orange during the eternal Golden Hour of the Arctic.
The low-lying sun peaking through a downed spruce during the Golden Hour
Pink shades and long shadows in this golden hour shot near the top of Angel Rocks, Alaska
Magic lighting and sunset from Angel Rocks, Alaska.
Beautiful light off the peaks and snowdrifts.
Although we often want to watch the sunset, the objects that it lights up behind us can be brought to life. These tamarack cones are bathed in the remarkable light of the Golden Hour
Because unique light of the Golden Hour, it offers the perfect opportunity for black and white transformations. Do you prefer the full color or black and white image?
Because unique light of the Golden Hour, it offers the perfect opportunity for black and white transformations. Do you prefer the full color or black and white image?
I used several key resources for this article. If you are interested in calculating your sun angle check out :
The 18+ foot tides of Homer Alaska define life on the seashore. Its consistency and rhythm are the drumbeat of the ocean. During the summer each day, salmon return to the “Fishing Hole” with the incoming and outgoing tide chasing schools of baitfish, only to be chased by fisherman. Shorebirds feed at the tideline and in the exposed rocks which contain many insects and invertebrates in the crevices. Tide pools contained trapped wonders to because observed with curiosity, and which have evolved to survive the temporarily dry conditions. They often closing up, or shrinking under the sand to conserve water. My time in Homer, Alaska was focused around the seashore, fishing, beach combing, birding, and peering into tide pools. These pictures and experiences are both through my lens, and Kassie’s too.
Tide Pools
Peer into a tidepool, and what shall you see? Small creatures, shells, or an anemone.
As the tide goes out, large boulders hold water and sea creatures – tide pool!
The tentacles of a green anenome reach for the surface in a a tide pool.
This large, lone, mussel displays one of its unique characterists. The strong, hair fibers of its holdfast which secure it to a a rock.
Within a tidepool I watched this tiny hermit crab discover, and then attempt to pry loose this limpet for dinner. For scale, this tiny limpet is half the size of a dime, and the crab even smaller.
This particular anenome in the tide pool was very striking. Wedged between two rocks, I was able to capture it through the surface of the water!
(1) The sand flats in between the rocks may holder larger treasures….
(2)… like this starfish! This large star fish was 10 – 12 inches across. We moved it to a wetter, and safer tide pool.
This image of a dead clam among the rocks, and surrounded in seaweed seemed to imbibe the whole concept of tidal change to me.
The tideline in Homer is far, far above the ocean level. By nature’s laws, the ocean and the hill have reach an agreement on who’s domain is who’s.
Birding
As we walked along the beach a northwestern crow began to dig a hole along the surf line. To our astonishment it jerked out a thin, silvery, and wriggling Sandlance from the bottom of the hole. Hopping forward a bit further the crow did it again, and again. Other crows were doing the same thing, and were apparently highly efficient hunters. I relayed this video (below) to a birding group, and was informed this hunting behavior may be specific to Homer crows. Have a watch, and let me know your guesses on how they locate the eels. I have not a clue!
A disheveled northwestern crow pecks among the rocks looking for leftovers in the tides. He stopped long enough to shoot me an eye.
A black turnstone moves through the rocks in a shallow tidepool. These birds, along with many others, are sought during the Kachemak Bay Shorbird Festival each year, when tens of thousands of shorebirds stop through the food-rich shores of the Kachemak Bay.
A lone black-legged kittiwake stands on the beach, with just a shade of the mountains of Homer visible in the background.
Nesting eagles are a common sight in Homer. This particular pair nests near the outskirts of Homer, and were constantly bringing fish back to its eaglets.
As this eagle lands at its nest, the talons are particularly dangerous looking!
Homer in Its Place
Lupines and yellow paintbrush jut out from the hillside along the beach.
As we walked up the Diamond Creek trail, we passed under a large canopy of cow parsnip flowers. I was struck by their contrast against the sky.
Shipping traffic is a common sight throughout Kachemak Bay. As I fished, Kassie capture this great image that puts the grandeur of the mountains in perspective.
A subtle shift in that same scene, and the sailboat now dominates the foreground.
I fished for salmon at the fishing hole in the lingering sunset. With a fly rod as my weapon of choice I only wrangled one “dollie”, a dolly varden.
A large trunk blots out a beautiful sunset near the fishing hole.
As the tide becomes more ideal, the fishermen stack into the Fishing Hole lagoon in Homer. At this place it is possible, if not likely, to catch silvers, sockeye, and king salmon.
It seemed like a good omen that the clouded skies cleared to bluebird conditions as we pulled into the parking lot of Wickersham Dome. The unexpected blue skies cheered us on as we went about threading our ganglines, clipping on snowhooks, and packing our sleds. Eager and expectant dogs watched our progress, and when we began to hook them up their tug lines, they fed upon each others energy. Leaping, pulling, and baying they waited for me to pull my snowhook and quickrelease. When I did, the sled lurched over the hardpack of the parking lot, banked left onto the main trail, and we were on our way to Crowberry Cabin, 30 miles into White Mountains.
Sled dogs have a plethora of personalities. Jeff (friend and owner of Black Spruce Dog Sledding) let me know that Sooner, one of my dogs in lead only pulled well for “people he liked”, and I was conscious of that trait as we made our first stop. I walked up to the front of the team and gave Sooner a good pat on the head. “Keep it up, bud”, I stated. I’m not sure if my initial approaches made a difference or not, but Sooner and Stoic, the lead along with him, pulled great the entire trip with their heads down, and always with some tension on the tuglines. Behind the leads, Simon, an old veteran pulled well too. As a veteran dog he knew his roll in the team and worked hard. Sniffing the tip of Simon’s tail was Beaver and Scorch. Finally, taking “wheel”, Grizz and George were responsible for pulling hard. George can be a great worker, and out of my entire team he is my favorite. He loves to check out what’s going on, and since his position was closest to the sled, every time I opened the sled bag he craned his neck to get a look inside. Together they were my team of 7, and I was happy to be pulled by them!
Simon : a veteran knows to get some sleep at camp!
Sooner : Taking a quick break on the trail
Stoic and Sooner : Nose to the wind
Beaver : lots of character
Scorch : Those floppy ears!
Grizz : my youngest pup, and a great puller
George : a goofy and fun loving dog
Crowberry cabin sat on a facing to the west, and the peaks of the White Mountains surrounded us. The wooden cabin looked iconic for the Alaskan Wilderness. Throughout the Whites, these public use cabins serve as refuge for those who venture far. Trappers, hunters, mushers, or snow machiners make use of them. The full log construction of this cabin was wonderful, and when once we built a fire and warmed the inside, it was a truly incredible getaway. The four bunkbeds, dinner table, and camps stove, and lantern made it into a 5 star Alaskan Suite. However, admiration of the cabin was actually secondary to the task at hand. I walked along the gangline of the staked out dogs and tossed out beef snacks. We layed down straw for each of the pairs to keep them off the snow, and started heating up water for their main course – kibbles and meat. Building a fire, we enjoyed the sunset and fed the dogs their final meal.
This was Jeff’s dog, and a notorious chewer. To prevent any damage to the gangline or necklines, this dog got his own bed of straw and post at a tree.
Our lookout.
A moody landscape over the White Mountains.
Curved black spruces in the white mountains
Crowberry Cabin
The sunset over the white mountains illuminating the edge of the snow-carrying front.
The next morning an inch of powdery snow had fallen over the night. My team was wide awake as I stepped outside for the first time, and George gave me a happy tail wag. I dusted the snow off my sled, packed my gear, harnessed my team and hit the trail. The dogs were just as eager to set out on the trail as the day before. The intermittent, light snow shaded the hills and made our ride home far different. The sprawling vistas of the White Mountains were gone, replaced by a moody gray. The next 4 hours breezed by, and before I knew it the Wickersham Dome parking lot was back under foot, ending an incredible experience and trip!
The opportunity to experience dog sledding for an overnight trip is the fulfillment of a life-long dream. I have literally wanted to drive my own team since reading about fictional characters “Lew and Charlie” in Fur Fish Game, stories by Jack London, or books like Jim Kjelgaard’s “Snow Dog”. Those stories have fueled my imagination and desire to visit open spaces since I was twelve. I have always been drawn to the mystery, adventure, and vastness of remote areas. The White Mountains are just one of the broad wilderness areas of Alaska, and the opportunity to experience it using the low-impact “Alaskan” method was truly a gift!
Lindsey’s team was a bit faster than mine, and I captured them here as we headed back home.
The crew. Jeff, KattiJo, and Lindsey. A great trip!
When I was home for Christmas break one of the questions I got asked fairly regularly was “what’s it like to live in Alaska in the winter?”. I always grin, which seems to be what people expect because they grin back, but I think I disappoint them by explaining that a lot of times the winter conditions are not as desperate as you think. Yes, 40 below is cold, but in Fairbanks the wind rarely blows making the cold very tolerable. 20-25% humidity ensures that it is a ‘dry cold’ (think of someone from Arizona explaining the dry heat). In the eyes of many, the hardest thing to adapt to is the short days in the winter. Although we are gaining length now, the dark days at bottom of winter make getting out of bed hard and sleeping easy. In Alaskan winters I celebrate and cherish the sun because I miss it! The darkness lately has been compounded by cloudy skies, so when the sun was out this morning I knew I wanted to be outside for it as much as possible! I gathered together my gear for setting burbot lines (more on that soon!!) and headed to the Tanana river. But, my trip to the river certainly was not linear, all along the way I found things to swing my camera lens at in that beautiful sunshine. So, today I give you a snap shot of January 17th in Alaska, a beautiful day! Photos are time-stamped and in order of occurrence. Hopefully you’ll see that not all winter days are so bad in Alaska!
11:37 AM : A boreal chickadee poses for a cute picture just outside of my house
11:37 AM : A boreal chickadee looks before it leaps and is eyeing up some suet.
11:39 AM : Red-backed voles are a common Alaskan rodent. I have counted up to eight at a time under my feeders scavenging what they can find. Red-backed voles have actually been demonstrated to spend a large portion of their days in black spruces which is a recently documented behavior!
11:43 AM : A sharp tailed grouse sits under the spruces. This seems to be a pretty normal winter behavior – move as little as possible to conserve energy.
12:06 PM : The sharp-tailed grouse is actually a pretty small bird. Tucked up high in the spruces it is safe from almost any predator present in the Alaskan winter. Most raptors have migrated for the season, although a lingering great-horned owl could get bold and try for this big meal!
12:06 PM : Sharp-tailed grouse moved to the birches to pick at the catkins
2:18 PM : I spent the afternoon drilling through the Tanana River to set burbot lines. The ice was thick! About 36 inches. However, early in the season the river broke up and formed “jumbled ice”. The shadows of small snow-dunes indicate a rough texture underneath!
4:29 PM : As I got back into town the Alaska Range (South of Fairbanks) was lit up by the low sun. The mountain range is always beautiful, but on nights like this you cannot stop watching! The pinks and purples of this sunset were amazing! This is easily my favorite panorama to date because it is a view I get to enjoy everyday, and this picture captures it well!
4:32 PM : The sun is almost ready to disappear. We’ve gained an amazing amount of time back since December 21st when the day length was 3.5 hours. Today’s day length is just over 5 hours!
This posting is my second piece in my ‘reflection’ posts. These posts are meant to bring past adventure to life. I hope it does.
It may be inevitable that solo-hiking 20 miles over the Presidential Range and camping between coffin-shaped rocks at 5000 feet under a blue moon is memorable.On August 30, 2012 I started over the Presidential Range (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/94/NHpresidentials.JPG). I began at Mount Madison and headed up the Airline trail. The last time I had been on Madison was in the dead of winter. A friend and I were attempting the traverse on January 16th. Conditions held us back and I lost a toe-nail to frostbite. So, there was certainly some meaning and caution for me as I ascended Madison on that warm, August day. On this day, the views never stopped. Large puffy clouds drifted overhead, and occasional hikers which either passed me or passed by me were of the same cheerful outlook : it was a good day.
Landscape scenery shot with a Tukamar screw mount lens. Has a cool yellow-cast ‘old timey’ feel.
After clambering up Madison and over Adams I reached the approximate half-way of the trip in in a saddle between Adams and Jefferson. At the time I was at about 5,000 feet. I scouted around for a place to camp for the night. My plan was to simply lay out in an low-impact area on top of the mountain. I found my ideal spot between two larger boulders. As I reasoned there was no plant vegetation to trample and and the boulders would provide considerable shelter from the winds which can arise at any time in the White Mountains. Until 2010 Mount Washington held the records for the highest, directly measured wind gust on earth. 231 mph! The bounder crevasse tapered out to fit my shoulders and down to fit my feet. It was just over 6 feet long and had a flat rocks between it. Certainly, it didn’t slip my mind that I was crawling into a boulder coffin. At least it wasn’t premonition.
Setting up camp on the Saddle of Mount Jefferson at about 5000 feet. Those lenes flares are real! I was shooting a old screwmount Tukamar lens for this shot.
Supper on the summit was perfect. A hot meal of pesto tortellini and tea. I got to enjoy a magnificent sunset. As the final pieces of fire left the sky the lights of Conway and the city life were far below me. The big dipper was overhead. It was a relief that I was only able to watch the city life, no noise from the city made it up as far as my mountain saddle perch.
The final dregs of sunset
Conway, New Hampshire with the dipper overhead.
No sooner had the sunset disappeared, and the moon came up. I’ve seen a lot of moon rises in my life, but never one quite like this. Low hanging clouds on the horizon caused a nuclear reaction. The big blue moon lit up the landscape in a beautiful mushroom cloud of whites and yellows. Aided by the elevation you certainly could have read a book by its light. About 5 miles away as the crow flies the Mount Washington Observatory was lit like Zeus had just come home to Olympus. The stars still shone brightly overhead and all of the major constellations that I know could be seen. I sat and watched the moon and stars for a couple hours before finally crawling into my rocky coffin for the night.
The mount washing observatory lit up by the light of a big full moon on 09/01/12
A nuclear blue moon melting through the clouds
Moon rise over the White Mountains of New Hampshire
When I awoke the next morning I was greeted by a distant fiery sunrise. However, the fog that mostly obscured the eastern sun was a living being. It shifted and blew through the canyons and valleys all around me quickly. It shifted like a flock of starlings and disappeared quickly before forming a new flock of water droplets. I got to enjoy this new mountain cover and think about the moon rise the previous night. It was such a change!
My morning after the blue moon in the Presidential Range. A cloudy and rainy day greated me with a flock of fog. A fiery sunrise burned in the east.
The rest of my hike was defined by wind and rain. Gone were the vistas, but the fun was now in the challenge of finishing the traverse in these less-than-ideal conditions. I summitted Washington, and headed down from there, abandoning a summit of Eisenhower due to the conditions.
This hike certainly stands out as the hike to beat for me. The chain of sun, sunset, stars, moon, and sunrise were incredible and dynamic. But, these legs of mine have a lot of adventure left in them so maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance.
