Fiery Depths
Looking down into the pits of hell, are those the screams of your political opponents you hear? Maybe it’s only last night’s burritos talking.
Regardless, I don’t want to be pitched over the edge.
TL120-55, Ilford HP5, DR5 processing (Yes, I typo’d the title on the mount, but given the scarcity of mounts I didn’t feel the need to remount in a clean one.)
Against The Light
Looking over my earlier efforts at winter landscapes, I decided that my lighting decisions were too conservative and would never capture the feel of a winter snowscape. In February of 2014, I tried to change that by using more aggressive sun angles and shooting into the light. I didn’t want to go full contre jour because so much of what I find engaging are the textures of the surfaces, and MF3D is superb at capturing textures.
Here, I tried to position the camera so both lenses were shaded by the distant trunk, and positioned a flash on the left. I then waited while the earth turned, and tripped the shutter as the shadow-line reached the camera.
The result is the the best representation I’ve been able to make of a Juneau winter day. The sky isn’t blown out, but is a featureless sea with a floating sun. The trees are more than silhouettes and able to contribute to the story.
Standing Proud
This image has been a while in the making. After reviewing my attempts at winter landscapes, I went out to try to do some things differently. I loaded a pack, took the first sunny day off work, and headed out to Cowee Creek where I knew I’d have moderate snow, free-standing trees, and a dramatic backdrop lit by the low afternoon sun. The film was exposed in February of 2014, processed by DR5 in May, and mounted in February of 2015.
To try to force the back of foreground tree trunk out of the shadows, I used a couple of Vivitar 285 flashes. One weak one firing forward (and slightly right) from just below the camera, and a stronger one coming from the far left.
While I think my concepts were correct, I fell short in the execution. This was the last roll of the day. It is a tested characteristic of my camera that the shutter timings start to drift at low voltages. By the time this roll was exposed, the batteries in the TL120 were failing in the cold and the right side was under exposed.
Foliage at Cowee Creek
While this film was exposed in February of 2014, I only mounted this image recently and Boris’s foliage efforts prompted me to include it in the folio. While it lacks the diversity of color most people associate with “foliage”, I hoped the medium would be able to convey the textures and details I found that day.
I have been generally dissatisfied with the winter landscapes I’ve made, so tried to do this session differently. Rather than try to frame with the sun behind or safely off the lens, I shot into the sun or let it come aggressively in from the side. This is a “from the side” shot with at least one Vivitar 285 providing fill against the natural light. I didn’t make a lighting sketch, but I suspect there was one above the camera and a stronger one firing from the right.
This is a different kind of ice shot. This is a glacier segment which has calved, floated out into the lake, and been trapped in the lake ice when winter arrived. We skated out to the trapped bergs, before shedding our skates to investigate. It was at least 15′ from the surface of the lake to the tunnel roof.
Based on the size of the tunnel, and the shape of the scallops on the walls, I suspect this began as a vertical shaft (moulin) draining water from the surface of the glacier to the interior. The wind and sun continue to work on the ice even in the winter.
Tripod mounted TL120-55
Juneau is a government and a tourist town. In the summer, it is all tourists. You arrive by boat, or by plane, and both are common day trips for tourists. The Otters in the background will be loaded with folks heading south of town to the Taku River. They are 50(ish) year old De Havilland aircraft which have been repowered with turbo-props. The steamboat is a fiberglass hulled vessel built in the style of a 1900-vintage launch, but is powered by a 2000-vintage boiler and engine. They run hour-long harbor tours most days of the week.
Tripod-mounted TL120-1, taken on one of my noon-time walks.
A trip to a Cape Cod beach and my son decided to challenge the surf. He was doing well, but kept pushing his walls closer to the waves. He was inevitably inundated and was forced to retreated.
Getting shots in the wind, sand, and surf isn’t easy, but it sure is safer than crawling under glaciers 🙂
Several years ago (2006), a disgruntled man set fire to a homeowner’s boat (on a trailer behind their house). The fire spread to their house and the adjacent church and burned both to the ground. If the winds had been different, a large section of Juneau could easily have disappeared that night. Three years, and many contributions later, enough of the church had been rebuilt to begin services again.
This was shot from the sidewalk during reconstruction, probably hand-held, during a noon-time walk.
From the winter of 2008, we move to the summer of 2008. That summer, the NSA convention was in Boise. I went and took my TL120-1 along. Aside from the good time, good conversations, and good theater, there was great weather. I don’t know what the folks in Boise thought of it, but it was warm and dry (certainly not Juneau weather) and it appealed.
These were the two better street-shots of the two rolls I burned in Boise. Both are from a hand-held TL120-1.
The winter ice has been terrible at the Mendenhall Glacier this year. The combination of snow, rain, and avalanches has meant I haven’t ventured near it, much less tried to cross it to get new winter images of the glacier. These two views from 2008 (captured with my TL120-55) will have to suffice. The area of ice pictured here is now long gone. In the summer it is open water. In the winter, it is lake ice.
This image is taken about a mile and quarter across the lake from where I laced on my skates. Because of the current lake level, 
there is a patch of stable, rocky beach here. Because of cliff and creeks, it isn’t possible to walk around the lake to get to this bit of beach. Crossing the lake is the only way. Everything off that bit of beach is in flux and subject to change at any moment.
The cracks parallel to the shore show that the lake ice has sunk, and may again. The white froth beside the green glacier is a flowing and frozen waterfall. There is another stream coming down closer to the camera. Both are flowing under the ice, taking relative warmth, and creating areas of thinner lake ice. The glacier is calving from above and below, even in winter. Because of all this, approaching the glacier is a dance with an uncertain beast. I hunt for images and capture them as I approach, never certain when I’ll decide I’ve gone close enough and its time to retreat.
This image was made early in the morning’s dance. The colors and textures beckoned me closer despite the poor ice conditions.
Closer (and farther to the left) than the previous one, I captured this image. My exploration is stymied. The lake ice has been broken and refrozen several times, 
and there is water between the farther cracks. The advancing glacier has plowed up the lake ice like I might my driveway. Farther back there are pieces of lake ice resting 10′ out of the water, having been lifted there by the rising glacier. The textures in the ice in front of me still beckon, but I declare the dance done and retreat.
Today, we’re going back to the ice but we’re not going to move much once we get there. All of the images here were made within 50-feet of each other. The subject is a fairly stable ice cave. I say fairly because it was created by an active creek so there is water flowing into it. The ground is mud, silt, ice, and gravel and is sliding into the cave and under the glacier. The ceiling is made of ice and is full of mud, silt, and gravel and is falling onto the floor. While I was working, some nice ladies stopped in to visit the cave. I used my Fuji to get a set-the-scene snapshot.
Deep V
In The Groove
Just inside the cave, the layers of the ice are obvious. The younger ice is above, the older ice is denser and is funneling the melt water out to the edge. The running water has carved a Deep V in the ancient ice. The mud and sand is trapped between the layers of ice and is being washed down and dropped on the floor. When working under the ice, the water running down your back is really mud (of various dilutions).
A little to the right, and closer to the ice, In the Groove better shows the layers in the ice and the sand and silt trapped between them. We can also see melt water pouring in to join the creek farther inside the cave.
Farther in the cave but looking a little up, we can see Below the Surface(BW). There is sand and silt embedded inside the ice, and the layers are evident from the back just as well as the front. (Now’s a good time to wish we had carried a helmet with us. The roof is melting, remember?) Finally, we can move a little farther in and get in close. That sand in there has been trapped in the ice for a couple hundred years. It’s just itching to get out so it can slide down into my camera.
 Below the Surface (BW) |
 Below the Surface |
All images were created with a tripod mounted TL120-1. I don’t record exposure times but the fastest time used was 1 second. They were shot on Provia 100F, Provia 400X, or Ilford HP5.
After visiting Nugget Falls, and seeing the other visitors on that cold November day, I started thinking about the presence and absence of the camera-toting tourists.
With that idea, I returned to Nugget falls in the height of the tourist season to try to capture some Alaskan Wildlife.
I approached the project in two ways. In the first, I went among the tourists. I openly carried my camera and snapped pictures as I saw fit. I didn’t try to be obscure or secretive, and I my TL120-1 was certainly not discrete. I was able to capture some characteristic tourist activities. These included primping for the camera, chimping the group shot on the camera, bickering over the camera, and arguing over the correct way to operate the camera. You get the idea. I fit right in.
In the second case, I set up a blind on a common game trail. I tried to get my 20′ air-release to work, but it failed me and I was forced to work with a 10″ cable release. I aimed the camera, set its exposure, and settled back onto a boulder. By kicking back on the rock with my arms crossed, I was able to hold the cable release in my fingers and trip it when I felt the scene before me was set. Too bad the TL120 lacks a motor advance or I wouldn’t have needed to get up and break my repose. One person called me out on the rig he spotted in the rocks and correctly identified the device as a “big stereo camera”.
Back in loop-17 (2005?), I contributed a couple of images taken from midway up Nugget Falls on the Mendenhall Lake. I liked the subject and wanted to try with wider lenses.
In November 2011, I went back with my son and we both shot some images. A couple of his shots are provided here to help set the scene. I was using my TL120-55, he was using a Canon 7D.
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It was November, so the lake was just starting to freeze and the sun was low even at mid morning. He climbed up the scree pile beside the falls while I loaded film and prep’d my gear on more stable ground. Then I came up shot a roll looking across the face of the falls, across the freezing lake, and into the powered sugar covered mountains.
Stuart caught me while I was framing, so after I had shot my scenics and was climbing down, I turned the camera on him. I had already slung my tripod for the descent, so this was a hand-held shot (with neck strap).
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The other visitors to the falls were a fortuitous accident. But when I saw them down below, I stalled my framing for a few seconds hoping they would spread to better fill the frame. My gamble paid off and I was please with their contribution to the image.
This is my first effort with DR5 processing and 
I’m extremely pleased with the results. I’ve been very happy with the sharpness I get with Provia 100, and reasonably happy with the sharpness with Provia 400x, but with Ilford HP5 at 400 I can see the grains of sand on the rocks. It is expensive to process, but I hope to shoot some more HP5 next year.
The cave below the Crack of Doom, persisted for at least three months. I first visited it in August. This image was made in October. The ceiling was higher and the space more open, but the cave was still there. This is almost the same vantage point as Streamside Snapshot. The rise in the very center of this image is off on the right side (and touching the ceiling) in Streamside.
Tripod mounted TL120-1, Ilford HP5 at ISO 400, DR5 processing
Back in August, I had found an awesome cave at the edge of the ice. I had been under the ice for about 30 minutes trying for some images of the stream running at the bottom of the cave. The light level was low
and I was having to guess at 1.5 or 2 second exposures while the melting roof falling all around me. These two ladies climbed and slid down to where I was and asked if they could take a few pictures without disturbing me.
“Sure thing!”, I said. They weren’t going to interrupt my process, and I really wanted some pictures of them against the blue.
While they took each others’ pictures, I tried to advance to advance the film, open the aperture enough to get the shutter-speed down to a more realistic number, compose a new image, and focus for the shallow depth of field. I think I got off three exposures before they were done and ready to climb out and head home. This is the only one which is close to useable, and it’s still too dark. I really need to carry a small flash and learn how to use it 🙁
This is in the same cave in which I made Crack of Doom. I’m turned 180 degrees and thirty feet farther in.
Tripod mounted TL120-1, Provia 400X, un-recorded aperture and shutter.
