Down the Throat

As a bonus image, I’m including a little bit of blue. Like all of my under-glacier images, the light is dim and the location is long gone.

I’m standing in the stream which has cut its way under the ice. The ground is gravel over bedrock, and the deeper one goes the thicker the layer of gravel is. By this point, the gravel is thick enough so the stream is completely contained in the gaps between the stones. The running water carries heat under the ice which creates a gap. Then warm air start to move through and widen the gaps. The color variation in the ceiling is from the variation in thickness and sand content.

I’ve tried several times to try to duplicate this image by print and by film. In call cases, the color reproduction has stymied me. The colors reproduced by the film are not easily obtainable in any of the ink or film-recorder color spaces I’ve tried. I’ll try again in a few more years. Until then, please enjoy this original with all of its subtle colors.

Lunch on Ice

Once again, I’m chasing the retreating ice.WA069 More often than not, there is now a kayak pulled up on the rocks after I’ve walked all the way out. It would be a lot quicker way to arrive than on foot!

In this case, this group arrived in a pair of kayaks and settled in for lunch before doing their exploring. The “rock” they are on is actually a gravel-covered block of ice. The ice will melt over the next couple of months, leaving only a pile of sand and gravel. The fall rains and winter snow will probably wash the remaining sand down into the lake by spring.

The area of darkened ice on the face of the glacier is an area where the under-ice river flows out into the lake. The in-rushing water is leaving ripples in the otherwise still lake.

Where the Rain Fell

WA155In the summer of 2015, I did another long walk looking for tripod holes. I load my pack with a TL120, a digital SLR, maybe a W1, a box of slides, and a STL viewer. The task is to find the locations, and recreate the view. The challenge is to make an engaging image in a location which probably no longer has the jaw dropping magnificence of its youth.

It is hard to suppress the cringing and pain I feel as I search for tripod holes. I have a visual memory. My trek across the barren rock is a long slow playback of previous excursions, narrated by my little voice, “I remember when . . .”, “We forded the stream up there . . . “,  “This used to be . . .”.

This location happens to be where DSCF0929aI made some of my favorite images. I know one made it into the folio. Others, including Raining Tunnel, made their way into a slide display at the NSA convention in Colorado.  The camera location recorded in this thumbnail (from 2010) is just about where the cliff wall exits the right side of the stereo view. In this case, I was unable to create any meaningful image by putting my tripod back into those holes.  I chose, instead, to move my camera to the vantage point from which I had made the 2010 self-image.

In 2010, the water ran into a ice tunnel of uncertainty and opportunity. I knew it fell into the lake somewhere, but how far would I venture into that tunnel to find and capture images. In 2015, it is a spread of certainty. The fireweed and willow have taken root, the stream runs in the open, and a Southeast rain forest will soon own this location.

Impermanence

Scan000120Glaciers are slow. In idiomatic English, to move at a “glacial pace” is to move so slowly that a casual observer will not notice the movement at all. Yet over the years I’ve been making images featuring glacial ice, the rate of observable change is phenomenally fast. Even as I compose and capture an image, the ice is melting and the image is disappearing. The majestic, glowing cavern of today is the rotted, open-top canyon of the next week. It is dry open rock the week after that.

The folks at Extreme Ice Survey make time-lapse images of melting ice around the world. Two of their cameras are trained on “my” glacier, the Mendenhall, and their one-minute video covers seven years of activity. Time-lapse video is an excellent medium to convey the enormous change which takes place at a “glacial pace”. I don’t have an MF3D time-lapse video. I create still images. I offer you only a single still, and ask, “How do we identify the ghosts?”

Today, fourteen months after that image was made, those ghostly people still walk the planet. The blue palace at which they marveled melted off into the ocean long ago.

[Edited July 8, 2015 to add]

I visited the ice this week and am saddened by what I found. Because of the continued ice-recession, the walk is much longer and harder than it was a few years ago, and the destination is a pathetic shadow of its former self.  This may be the final image of my ice series.

Fiery Depths

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.)

Looking Through the Ice

Scan000074This 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

Not Too Close / Plowing Prow

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.

Not Too Close

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, Scan000010there 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.

Plowing Prow

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, Scan000009and 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.

All in one place

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.

Black and White Blue

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

 

 

Streamside Snapshot

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.

 

Crack of Doom

Some glaciers are relatively stable. The Mendenhall is not one of these. At this fissure, the race is on between the melt action from the outside edge and thinning ceiling caused by the increasing depth of the crack. When I found this ceiling crack, I knew I had to try to get an image of it before it disappeared.

It’s shot on Provia 400X with about a half-second exposure. Because of the height of the ceiling and the orientation of the crack, I was unable to get everything in focus with the TL120-1. Yep, the foreground is soft, but I feel it isn’t too distracting. A greater distraction is the stream of water very near the camera. Again, there was nothing I could do about it, so I made the image as best I could.

This is one image I whole-heartedly suggest experiencing inverted. Flip that slide over and see what’cha’ think.

This is also an image which I have found impossible to color-match between the slide and the computer screen. The colors just don’t exist in the sRGB space to present the colors on the film.

August, 2011 – Tripod mounted TL120-1, Provia 400X

Hanging Ice Cubes

This is another image from under the Mendenhall glacier. I have done several images of the surface and the caves. Here, I’ve screwed up the courage to actually get in the gap between the ice and the bedrock, put a camera on a tripod and try to compose some images. It’s pretty hard to concentrate on images when the ceiling is melting and the resulting ice-water-rain is running down your back. Then there are the streams (a little visible in the middle-ground), tumbling rocks, and falling ice-bits to keep you jumping!

I really wanted to get more light so you could see the distance better. Even though I had brought my flash (and all of the cables to make it go) I was unable to control it enough to get any light in the distance without blowing out the rocks in the foreground. What I needed was a Chimney Boy to slither in and rig a couple of remotes part way down the cleft.

Created with a tripod-mounted TL120-1

Linda Nygren, July 2011

Linda submitted her images at the close of the NSA convention in Loveland. I’ve provided the thumbnail scans to provide a placeholder for comments, but I am unable to add any additional commentary.

–John Thurston, August, 2011

Wall

In some earlier folio offerings, I’ve shown the raining ceilings and the smooth rocks. This image is all about the ice.

Up close and personal with the face of the glacier, you can see the facets and scallops created as it melts. The sand and rock in the ice has possibly been there for thousands of years. Its journey is nearly over and it will soon melt out and fall to the ground.

I’ve been trying some different methods of duplicating slides. This is a Gammatech duplicate made from a flat-bed scan on my Epson 4990. While it isn’t bad, it can’t compare with the original. But, for $10, it certainly isn’t bad.

August, 2010. Tripod mounted TL120-1.