Left and Right

Right Side

If the Juneau tourists get a bus to the Mendenhall Glacier, a mile long walk along the willows on the lake shore will bring them to the bottom of Nugget Creek. It offers a nice waterfall, and good view of the glacier.We’ve been here before.

Left Side

And if one walks several miles up the “left” side of the lake, and climbs a little, it is much quieter and less crowded.  Not many unguided tourists make it this far up the trail, so when I meet one I try to make them feel welcome. If the lenses in your viewer are good, you can see the crowd of tourists on the beech at the base of the waterfall.

Twenty years ago, all the open water in both images was ice. The face of the glacier was just past the rightmost iceberg in the second image. At that time, the bedrock was below more than 100′ of ice, and Nugget Falls disappeared under the edge of the glacier.

Both images are from my TL120, Nugget Falls has been captured with Kodak E100G rather than my usual Provia.

Town and Tours

So Many Choices

Juneau is historically a gold town. More recently, it is a tourist town. On a ‘good’ day, cruise ships can deliver more than 15,000 passengers to shore. And when all those people get ashore, they need to find something to do. Most of the ships work hard to sell package tours on board to their captive audience, but there are still folks on the sidewalks ready to help put tourists on buses out to the glacier or to another dock where they can grab a whale-watch tour.

Whales, Whales, Whales

Most of the vendors are seasonal workers. They arrive from Outside at the start of the season, rent their booth, and sell tours on commission. They’re assertive, but friendly. I’m not often mistaken for a tourist (wrong clothing and not enough tan), but when I am I listen to their pitch before turning them down.

Both of these are from my TL120 on Provia.

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.

Awaiting Release

FolioA-A30306The Mendenhall is magnificent from a distance. It is spectacular if you can get up close and personal.

The ice has layers and threadsof dirt and sand which were washed down and embedded in the originating snow. As the glacier is pushed down the valley, the face melts away and the embedded dirt, sand, sticks, leaves, and silt are released. You should be suspicious of anyone selling you “crystal clear glacier ice” 🙂

Tripod mounted TL120-1, DR5-processed HP5

 

Beam Me Up

FolioA-A30305There are often caves in and under the Mendenhall glacier. In the winter, when the lake is frozen and travel is easier, there are often many folks visiting.

On this particular day, I set my camera up and loitered in the corner. The first set of bystanders is always very self conscious and makes explicit efforts to stay away and not “spoil” the shot. By simply loitering with a long cable release (while wearing warm clothes), I out-wait them and they are replaced. The newcomers ignore me as part of the landscape. Then I can trip the shutter, and reach over to advance the film.

Tripod mounted TL120-55. DR5-processed HP5

Learning the Ropes

FolioA-A30303The Mendenhall glacier is in a National Forest, so commercial exploitation is expected and encouraged. One business here hikes you to the ice. There, you don crampons and helmets before setting off on an ice-trek. Four hours earlier, these folks were probably disembarking from their cruise ship. Now they’re on the glacier and about to practice their fall-arrests.

This is a cool place to live.

Tripod mounted TL120-1, most likely done on Provia 100.

Flowers on Stone

Juneau is a gold mining town. WA070Every where you turn, you find remnants of the placer and hard-rock mining. South of Juneau, a pier stand abandoned in the water. Its pilings are bleached and trees grow from its surface. On the shore stand the pillars which supported the rail-line out to the pier.

When it was a working facility, the ships from Seattle would dock here in Dupont to offload their cargo of dynamite. It would be trundled down the rail-line to an elevated warehouse along the shore. From there, smaller loads would be transported by boat to the mines in Treadwell, Douglas, and Juneau.

Excepting the iron bits, the pier, dock, and warehouse were built from local materials. This image may be better named, Flowers From Stone, as the concrete is covered with the efflorescence from the beach sand and gravel.

I tried to set the focus and aperture to let the distant pier fall out of focus. I think I could have opened the aperture a bit more.

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.

On Spaulding Meadow

The Spaulding Meadows are popular all year round. These are not meadows with cultivated hay fields. These are meadows in the second sense of the word, being areas of grass and flowers near the treeline. In the winter, they are very popular ski destinations, but the snowfall was so scant this year that there was virtually no skiing at all. They will often have snow in them until May, but by February 2015, the snow was gone. The images in this set are from a pair of trips I made to try to capture the combination of snow-free meadows and low-angle light.

Scan000118Spaulding Ponds

The ponds and pools in the meadows were still solid enough to walk across, so it made for very easy access to all corners of this space. I nestled in under a couple of trees to try to capture the frosty glint on the branch tips. I provided a little bit of fill-flash in an attempt to brighten the gloom under the trees.

Scan000119Two Towers

Despite the level of the clouds, I think you can gauge the height of the sun. This was about noon, so you can see that the sun doesn’t get very high in Juneau in the winter. I think this image effectively contains infinity without containing a horizon. This is a very common condition in Southeast Alaska. The weather is very close and we are often hiking in the clouds at less than 1,000 of elevation. This image was made at about 800‘ with my TL120-55.

Scan000117Spaulding Close Up

While enjoying a cup of tea and taking in my surroundings, I found myself staring at a tree. My attention was drawn to a low-lone branch. And further drawn to the tufts of needles on a twig on that branch. And here it is. I would have liked to close in on a single tuft, but the TL120-1 can’t focus closely enough.

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.)

Against The Light

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

Standing Proud

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.

Dripping Foliage

Foliage at Cowee Creek

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.