Prusik Peak

A few minutes' walk from our campsite on Lake Vivianne I found this view of Prusik Peak. There was just enough of a breeze to break up a nice smooth reflection, so I located a boulder with a lot of texture as a foreground instead. Not long after I made this photograph, we packed up our camp and headed back toward the trail head.

Though I wish that I had a color version of this, I find the black and white image has a texture and timelessness that appeals to me. I actually did expose two sheets of Astia (color slide film, for the non-film folks reading this), but the first one I lost because the clasp on the Quickload envelope jammed in the film holder, and the second came back from the lab black... I probably neglected to reset the shutter when I put the second sheet in.

SoFoBoMo: DONE!

I finished my book!

True, the layout is very simple, and there aren't any nifty interactive features, video, music, or that sort of thing, but since it's my first book, I don't mind that.

I may go back and create another version that includes actual photo essays, but for a first book, I'm pretty happy with this effort, because I succeeded, a day early.

For those of you who take the time to check my book out, I hope you enjoy it!

Mount Baker

It has been much too long since my last post. I haven't been doing as much landscape photography lately either, so it was about high time I did some.

I had planned on doing the Boulder River hike today, but it's not accessible right now; apparently not many of the Darrington area hikes are. So instead, plan B became a trip to Orcas Island.

When we left Seattle, the fog was almost thick enough to cut with a knife. It stayed with us for the entire drive to Anacortes. About five minutes after the ferry pulled out of the quay, the fog cleared and gave us great views of the island we were passing. It also gave us a nearly crystal clear view of Mount Baker.

It seemed like a promising start.

At Orcas Island, we headed for Moran State Park, and followed the roads toward Mount Constitution. There some snow on the road, but not much... until we reached a closed gate. We parked there and walked the remaining 1.2 miles or so; it was a pretty easy jaunt up the road.

When we arrived, we found a dazzling view of the North Cascades. Though it was almost lost in the haze, we could even see Mount Rainier in the distnance, and one peak that we think was Glacier Peak.

The layer of clouds over the straight was also interesting; throughout most of the afternoon, it broke up as it passed Orcas Island, but as the evening progressed, the ragged edge started moving eastward, eventually filling the strait below us, yielding the sight I showed above.

In other semi-related news, I now have six prints up at Energy Cafe in Ballard. Printed by Neil Buckland at Luemars, coated with a protoctive and glossy coating material and glued onto 24x30 inch pieces of plexiglass, they look very detailed and very vibrant. If you get a chance, head over and let me know what you think :)

I hope that the sheets I exposed today come out well, so that I can add some images of Mount Baker to my small but growing collection of prints.

My FIrst Print is UP!

Although this image is not new, the print is. Neal Buckland at

www.mimeosquare.com printed it for me on canvas at 42x50 inches,

coated it, and had it stretched onto a frame for display.

It's now hanging at Energy Espresso in Ballard, and it looks

quite impressive, better than I had anticipated.

It was expensive, but hopefully someone will like

the results enough to buy it :)

Mount Saint Helens

We left Seattle at midnight, at the very end of Triskadekaphobia Day, also known as Friday the 13th. When we arrived at around 3am, the sky was very dark, and we marvelled at the intensity of the stars, the fact that we could clearly see the Milky Way while we put on our hiking boots and all that. The sky lightened quickly though, so we didn't get very many star shots.

The sky was very clear, as we were above the thick clouds in the valleys. By the pre-dawn light, we could see the dense layer of clouds that filled the north fork of the Toutle River Valley; normally an expanse of desolation five miles wide, this time it looked like a sea of clouds.