The Avett Brothers in Seattle

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Last week I got to go to Seattle for the first time in eight years to see the Avett Brothers in concert. Yeah, I know, Seattle is a long way to go just to see a band, but the Avett Brothers are no ordinary band!

For those of you who don't know, my brother got Leukemia while in South Korea in the Army in 2004. After treatment at Madigan Army Medical Center at Fort Lewis in Tacoma, the cancer went into remission, but some months later, it relapsed, and the only chance of getting rid of it then was to do a bone marrow transplant. So, while in my very last semester of college, I went up while he went through that treatment at the VA Hospital in Seattle. At that time I was in the middle of my Parks project for my BFA, and I got to photograph a lot of the parks in and around Seattle. While I was there last week, I took the opportunity to go back to a few of those parks and rephotograph some of the original scenes from 2005.

This one is really the only "re-photograph" I made. The rest are all new images.

 

Magnolia Park

Magnolia Park

Puget Sound, Discovery Park

Puget Sound, Discovery Park

Along the road, I snapped a few photos with my phone (for those of you who follow my Instrgam feed, some of these will look familiar):

Somewhere in Oregon

Crossing into Washington

 

The concert, as the Avetts always are, was amazing!

 

 On Sunday, after church we drove down to Redondo, a place on Puget Sound with a nice boardwalk. It was still a nice place for a photograph.

I didn't realize how much I missed Seattle until I went back. It's such an awesome city, and it was hard for this good thing to end, as all good things must, as the saying goes.

 

Logan Canyon

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Last night I headed up Logan Canyon hoping to find a different spot than up Right Hand Fork, but the few places I had in mind (I wanted to stay down in the lower parts of the canyon) turned out to not be as good a spot for pitching a tent as I thought, so I ended up back in Right Hand Fork Canyon.

When I first got there, I hadn't really planned on photographing, but it didn't take long before I started seeing photographs that I knew I had better make under the unique conditions that had made me see the photographs in the first place. But, for the first time, I think ever, I was not at all pleased with the photographs I made of the stream. In stead, I quite liked the couple I made of the new plants that have begun to grow and turn the place from a drabby brown into a luscious green (ironically both of those photographs I've posted are in black and white).

I've always loved the images in the backpacking and climbing magazines of tents lit up from the inside, and I've always tried, and always failed at replicating them. Last night, after so much trial and error (that you only have one chance in 24 hours to test), I finally came away with one that worked.

Today, I helped out with the Forest Service put a fence back up that keeps the grazing cattle from destroying the terrain of and around Spawn Creek (see my last post). I met up with the group of people helping out at the Temple Fork parking lot, and while I waited, I had to make this photograph (with my phone, since I was too lazy to get the big camera and tripod out) of the lingering clouds that had dumped their rain all night.

Then, on my way back down the canyon back to civilization, I stopped and made this last photograph:

Spawn Creek

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I think last night was the last night I'll spend in Right Hand Fork Canyon for a little while. I need to spend some time away from it in a new place. I feel my images there are becoming homogenous. Then again, photographing there under the morning light would help bring some variety to the work. Anyway, here are some images I made last night:

I had decided on hiking up Spawn Creek today, and was on the trail bright and early. Well, it was actually kind of dark, but plenty early. Spawn Creek is a small creek in the Temple Fork watershed. It drains into Temple Fork near the trail head to the Temple Fork Sawmill. And like Temple Fork, there are plenty of beaver ponds along the creek, with schools of Bonneville Cutthroat Trout that spook easily. I'll have to take my rod up there one of these days. It'll be a perfect test of how stealthy a fly fisher I am.

Temple Fork and Spawn Creek, along with the upper Logan River in the Franklin Basin, are spawning habitat for the Bonneville Cutthroat Trout. An old road used to parallel Temple Fork, and overgrazing, and general misuse of the land lead to poor water quality in the Temple Fork watershed. In 1999, the old road was removed, along with stream-side campsites, and the area was rehabilitated. Better grazing management practices were adopted. All this has served to greatly improve the health of Temple Fork and Spawn Creek, thus improving also, the health of the Logan River.

At the confluence of the Temple Fork and the Logan, there are two rectangular frames made of 4" diameter steel pipe, and a mesh fence. Since there are efforts to rehabilitate the native cutthroat trout in Right Hand Fork and Temple Fork, I assume, since there are no natural barriers, that these act as the barrier to the brown trout in the Logan River, preventing them from creeping up Temple Fork. I need to talk to the rangers at the Ranger Station and get some better info than just assumptions.

Three of the steel rectangles are placed above the confluence of Spawn Creek and Temple Fork. I assume these are there to direct the cutthroats up Spawn Creek, though I don't know why whatever conservation group would want to block Temple Fork. Again, I need to do some investigating. 

I've always loved the scenery along the highway through Logan Canyon, but there is so much more to see in the Bear River Range and in order to see it, you have to get out of your car and walk, and only those willing to do so are blessed with the rewards of even more beautiful scenery, sounds and smells. I just can't wait for the trees and shrubs to regrow their leaves and the flowers to bloom. Rest assured, I'll be there with my camera when they do.

Temple Fork

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Wanting to see a different part of the Bear River Range, I decided on hiking the trail up Temple Fork this weekend. But not before spending the night in Right Hand Fork Canyon again. I've mentioned how convenient Right Hand Fork is for just pulling off the road and pitching a tent. Skipping the tent and just sleeping in the back of the 4Runner makes it even more convenient. I know, I said I wasn't going to cheat and do that, but it allows me to hit the trail much earlier than if I'd pitched a tent, and I wanted to be on the trail as early as possible. Partly for the nice morning light for photographing, and partly because when the weather gets warm, as was forecasted for today, I like to hike in the cool morning air.

I've decided to try and incorporate Right Hand Fork to be it's own photographic project, as I mentioned I thought of doing last week.

This morning I was on the trail by about 6:30. There is a dirt road that connects Temple Fork to Right Hand Fork, Left Hand Fork, Blacksmith Fork, and if you take the right roads, you can end up at Bear Lake. Right now, those roads are gated off, and any hikers wanting to hike the trails up Temple Fork, have to start at the gate, adding about a mile to the overall trip, not that that's a bad thing.

I made it almost all the way across this bridge and then thought it just needed to be photographed.

A little further up, I turned around and saw this:

Then walked another hundred feet or so and photographed this:

At the actual trailhead to the Temple Fork Sawmill Site (more on that later), there is a beaver dam. I made this photograph:

And then this:

And this:

I continued following the stream off-trail, stopping and making photographs as I saw them, which was pretty often. Here's just one of them:

I'm not 100% satisfied with most of the others. I'll need to spend some time with them, and I'll post them later if I deem them worthy of a blog post.

After I'd made that photograph, I finally got back on the trail, and set out for the Sawmill.

The trail parallels the stream the whole way, never getting more than about 100 feet away from the water, so the hiker is constantly accompanied by the sound of the water dribbling over a shallow bed of pebbles, or crashing over feet-high drops in elevation. The chirping of birds waking up also provide more melodies and harmonies to the score of mother nature's soundtrack.

Continuing south, and then bending to a more easterly direction, the trail passes several more beaver ponds, that look to be uninhabited (I vaguely remember hearing that all the beavers up on the Temple Fork have been removed). This one, however looked a little less "unoccupied:"

I had been periodically making video with my phone (which I may or may not post to Youtube when I get it all edited and put together), and as I was walking and recording, I came upon this beaver pond. There's a pretty big grove of Cottonwood trees that the beaver has really been hard at work at cutting down. If that beaver has been removed, it wasn't removed before it felled a few dozen trees, all about twenty-plus inches in diameter, and getting half-way through several more, and even more smaller trees. It's lodge alone was around twenty feet in diameter—one of the largest lodges I've ever seen. It was all rather impressive that a rodent so small could have that kind of impact.

The Temple Fork Sawmill was built by Mormon settlers in 1877 to provide lumber for buildings in Cache Valley, including the Logan Temple, and ties for the Utah & Northern Railroad. It ceased operation in 1883 after having produced an estimated "2.5 million board feet of lumber, 21,000 railroad ties, 900,000 laths, 2,000,000 shingles, 50,000 pickets, charcoal and an uncounted number of broom handles." It burned down in 1886, and wasn't rebuilt. There is now a monument at the site with a few pieces of equipment.

Of the trails I've hiked so far, this one ranks pretty high. It was absolutely gorgeous, both in sights and sounds.

On Meaningful Photography

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While hiking yesterday I had a realization.
It was always easy for me to make photographs of the landscape around Idaho Falls and Rexburg and in Island Park. I loved, and still love, those places, so meaningful photographs just came easy.
When I first moved here to Logan, it was hard for me to make meaningful photographs. The landscape seemed so foreign to me, even though I was no stranger to Cache Valley. I was no stranger to the kind of landscape in which Logan is situated, and I was no stranger to mountains. But the reason for my moving here was to pursue a Masters Degree in photography, and, being thrust into needing to produce work regularly, I found myself facing creative roadblocks at almost every turn. Nearly every square foot of land in Cache Valley has been developed in one form or another, from farm use to residential and commercial use. That said, I can deal with urbanization and Man's impact on land easily enough. My whole B.F.A. project was centered around man's alteration and recreation of Nature. But the Upper Snake River Plain has very little radical variation in elevation. Cache Valley is locked in by mountains, and they induced a sense of visual claustrophobia in me to the point of near creative break-down. I've always been drawn to photographing bodies of water, whether they be lakes, rivers, streams, etc., so I would drive up Logan Canyon to photograph the Logan River, but that induced the claustrophobia as well as being faced with entangling vegetation, and I rarely came away with a photograph I was pleased with.
So, on to the realization: maybe I've needed four years in Logan. Four years of hiking trails, fishing the rivers, and driving up and down the highways to call this place Home and finally start to make photographs of a place I have come to truly care about.

Right Hand Fork Canyon

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Today I realized that with all the photographs of Right Hand Fork I've got, I have a pretty good start at a project of that canyon itself. For such a relatively small geographic area, there's quite a variety of images to be made regarding the canyon and river. Cache Anglers collaborates with the Utah Department of Wildlife Resources and USU to restore the Cutthroat Trout population in Right Hand Fork, and it serves as a launching point to many different trails in the Bear River Range, including connecting with the Great Western Trail.

Last night I drove up and made these while my dinner was cooking over the fire.

This morning I headed up the trail. It only goes up Right Hand Fork Canyon about a mile before it veers up Willow Creek. Another mile further up R. H. F. Canyon, there are some cliffs that I wanted to check out, which means I had to bushwhack a mile through dense brush, and follow the dry streambed. But not long after leaving the trail, the canyon walls narrowed to 20' to 60' wide, with ciffs on either side, ranging from only about 20 about 100 feet tall. The cliffs I had as a destination, according to the topo maps are at least 200 feet tall.

Since the sun can't reach the canyon bottom for very long during the day, there is still quite a bit of snow, and I really would have benefitted from bringing my snowshoes, but I didn't think I'd need them. Anyway, bushwhacking through dense brush and thigh-deep snow can really take it out of you, and add rain to the mix, I threw in the towel before I got too worn out to make it out safely. Once the snow is gone, I'll give it another go.

I did make some photographs along the way though.


After the hike, I decided to head up Logan Canyon and see how high up I could get on the road up to Tony Grove. On my way there, I saw this and had to stop and photograph it:

Lots of good images, and plumb tuckered out. I've had a good weekend so far.

New Project

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In a previous blog post, I mentioned I had come up with some ideas for a new photographic project. Then, the working title was "10,000 Steps." It may still be. Things are still in conception. The premise of it being I walk/hike 10,000 steps, then make a photograph. But there is a lot more to it than that. At first I was thinking of going 10,000 steps one way. But then would I only make one photograph? And would it be at the very spot I made that 10,000th step? Or would I find something interesting to photograph at the 10,000th step. And why 10,000? Because I thought it sounded like a good number.

At any rate, I decided to start making photographs until I decide on more concrete details. Here's what I made today on my hike up Rick's Canyon:

Right Hand Fork, Little Cottonwood Creek

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When March rolls around every year, I start suffering from cabin fever. And this year was no different. Actually it was a little different. It was different because I had it worse probably than ever before. The deep freeze of January really brought the hermit out in me, and I spent a lot of time inside. I didn't get out fishing once in November clear through until two weeks ago. I did get out snowshoeing once, but it was a short trip and did absolutely nothing fill my "need-to-get-outside" canteen.

During the past two weeks I've spent a lot of time pouring over topo maps and satellite imagery on Google Earth, planning and plotting and scheming all the different trails to hike and places to pitch a tent. I've spent a lot of time doing maintenance on any gear that's needed it. I've spent a lot of money (throughout the winter) getting new pieces of gear.

I've got a plan in mind starting in May for sure—it may have been put into action last night—to spend every Friday night outside. I know there might be one or two that I'm going to have to stay indoors. But the vast majority will be spent under the stars (and no, sleeping in the back of the 4Runner doesn't count).

So, this week I made the determination to sleep in my tent. No matter what. Rain or shine, snow or sleet. I ended up taking my default option and went up Right Hand Fork. Mostly because with all the searching of maps I've done, I knew there are several trails that either start there, or branch off of the main trail in that canyon, and I had planned to explore at least one of them today.

One of my favorite things to do is photograph my campsite wherever I've camped or backpacked in to. Sometimes I include myself in them, sometimes I don't. Last night, I did.

This morning I got up, made breakfast, and headed up the trail that follows Little Cottonwood Creek. It's a gorgeous little trail that eventually turns into an old road (I don't know the history of it, but it looks as though it hasn't been used for several years).

This little stand of aspens caught my eye, and I had to stop and make a few photographs.

One thing about hiking and backpacking I like so much, is it gives me time to think. Without any distractions, I can just let my mind either drift from random thought to random thought, or I concentrate on only one thing. Today I think I stumbled on a new photographic project. The first one I've really been excited about since my BFA project (I know, I know, it's been eight years. Don't judge me). I still haven't noodled all of the nitty gritty details out yet, but I at least have a Departure point.

Little Bear River

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Today I finally made it down to the Little Bear River at the very southern end of Cache Valley. I've been wanting to make it down there for some fishing for a while now, and I thought today was as good a day as any.

The Little Bear is the smallest "river" I've fished, and the fish were easily spooked. I spent a lot of time on my hands and knees, crawling from hole to hole to avoid being seen by the fish. Despite all the stealthy precautions I took, I still spooked all the fish, but I still had a lot of fun sneaking my way through the water, trying to hook into the finicky fish. After about three hours of crawling, casting, and changing fly after fly, a light hatch of tiny midges broke, and the fish started rising, and I managed to hook into a feisty little brown trout. The the sun went behind a cloud and the fish and the midges were done.

After I'd had enough of the fishing, I got my camera out and photographed some of the spots that caught my eye as I made my way up the river.









Bear Lake

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Today I went for a drive up Logan Canyon to see how high the river was, and maybe wet my fly line. It didn't take long to see that 1300 cfs in the Logan is definitely too high, muddy, and fast to even think about swinging a fly. There are a few pools here and there that might be holding fish, but it's too dangerous to get to them. From the looks of things, it's going to be mid July before that river calms down enough to really be able to fish.
As is often the case, I kept driving further and further up the canyon, because I just "have to check out this one last spot." Before I knew it, I was heading down the opposite side of the pass, going down into Garden City. I thought since I'd gone as far as I had, I may as well check out the water level of Bear Lake as well. It's been a very long time (probably longer than I can remember) since I've seen that lake as high as it is, and from reports that I've read it's not even done filling up.



Can Winter Be Done?

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I was okay with the rain we were getting today, but it soon turned to snow. By the time I got off work, there was a fresh coating of the white stuff on the ground. I'd left this morning planning on going photographing a bit this evening, and at 5 o'clock, I was still set on that plan despite the snow that had fallen and was still continuing to come down. I didn't come away with as many photographs as I would have liked, since I had to fight snow getting on my lens almost the whole time, but I did get these two that I really like (especially the second):


This Bear is Coming Out of Hibernation

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Spring is well on its way here in Logan, and Logan Canyon is following closely behind. The Logan River is flowing about a foot higher than it normally is, and the water is getting pretty murky from all the sediment and debris being stirred up by the faster and more turbulent water. I got out yesterday after work and spent about an hour fishing. I didn't catch (or see) any fish, but it was still good to get out and get my line wet. After all, I don't need to catch a fish to have fun fishing.

After I was done, I walked through a grove of trees and thought I should make a few photographs. Here are a few that I came away with:

Falls River

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This weekend I got to go up to Idaho and see the family, and do some fishing on the Falls River. When my dad, brothers and I all got into fly fishing, the Falls River was the first place I remember going after we'd all gotten our rods and reels, so it was good to return after having not fished that river in I don't know how many years. And it was all made better by the fact that my dad, and two of my brothers, Casey, and Riley came along as well.
On the way to the river, we drove past this burned and collapsed potato cellar, and I had to photograph it:


The stretch we always went to along the river was under an old rail road bridge. In the years we've not gone there, the bridge has been made far safer than it ever was. There are now cable hand rails, and an even deck on the ties, so there's no more danger in falling. I kind of liked the idea of risking life and limb crossing the bridge back in the day. It kept you on your toes.

After fishing the Logan River and Blacksmith Fork all year, it was a bit of a new experience fishing such a wide river again, and it really wore my arms out having to cast so far. After a few casts and a few fly changes, I finally caught a whitefish on an X Caddis. Then a little while later, after tying an Olive Serendipity to the bend of the hook of the X Caddis, I hooked into a nice Rainbow Trout. He was in the 14-ish inch range (I really need to get a tape measure), and fought like a mule. I finally landed him, and my dad got this photo:


After we'd finished fishing, we hiked back to the car, and I grabbed my camera and returned to the river to make this photograph:


Saturday, the whole gang got together at McCowin Park in Ammon for an awesome lasagna lunch, and to take some family photographs. If any of you saw pigs flying this weekend, or saw the weather report from Hell and saw it had frozen over, the reason is because I finally made "people" photographs. This is what the Duncan Clan looks like as of October 16, 2010:


A Very Successful Weekend

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Lately I've been suffering from cabin fever. With decent camping and fishing weather fading, I've been trying to get out as much as possible. Friday, I headed up Logan Canyon after work and pitched my tent along Right Hand Fork, a tributary to Logan River. I spent the evening photographing, and came away with these:


Saturday morning, I got up early, broke camp and was on the river with my fly rod at 7:30. I only saw two fish the whole morning, one of which shook itself off of my fly. After I'd had enough of not seeing any fish, fighting snags in trees, and wind knots, I put the rod away, and got my camera out and came back to this little riffle:


Afterwards, I drove further up the canyon to Red Banks, cooked lunch, and then started fishing again. Two casts after getting in the water, I had a 14-ish inch Cutthroat trout on; my first Cutthroat ever. A few casts after that I hooked into another 14-ish inch Cutthroat. A little further upstream, I saw a nice pocket that looked to maybe be holding a fish, and sure enough, the second I placed my Red Humpy on the water, a fish struck, I set the hook and the fight was on. After a short fight, I finally had the beautiful Cutthroat in my net. It was the biggest fish I'd ever caught, and measured about 16 inches. After not seeing any success at all in the morning, I was feeling pretty good about the afternoon. I continued upstream, catching a few small 6-8 inch fish, and a few others 10-14 inches. After a tippet change, I put the Humpy back on, and started heading to a hole I knew holds plenty of fish. Just a few yards downstream, I cast my fly to a small pocket, which sucked the fly under the surface a few inches. I saw the flash of a green back, and a white mouth, and set the hook. It didn't take long to know I had another big fish on. He swam upstream to hole after hole, and when he jumped out of the water, I had a good idea of just how big the fish was. He finally swam to the hole I was headed to, where I finally landed him. He didn't even fit in my net. Without a real tape measure, I couldn't get an exact measurement, but he was about 2 inches longer than the longest measurement of my net, which is (according to the specifications) 17.25", so I figure he was in the 20 inch range. I really wish someone was there to photograph this gorgeous fish, or somehow find a way for me to photograph them myself without stressing them more than necessary. After I'd landed that one, I figured it was a good way to end the day, so I packed up and headed home. All in all, it was, as the title of this post suggests, a very successful weekend.


Logan Canyon

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This weekend I went up fishing on the Logan River. The stretch of river I wanted to fish was already taken, so I went downstream a few miles and fished a stretch I hadn't fished before. Sometimes when I'm out fishing, I see parts of the river that I need to photograph, and this trip was one of those times. I went back there tonight and came away with these:

I don't know how this car got to the bottom of the canyon (this stretch is about 100 feet below the highway), but it made for a good place to hold fish. I saw a few rise this weekend, though none were interested in anything I cast to them.

Fall is in full swing up the canyon, and the leaves are turning yellow, red, orange and all shades in between. It's really quite gorgeous up there. Here's just a sample:


This hole was pretty deep. I had my tripod fully extended, which go up to about 6' 6" not including the head. I worried the current would shake the camera, but the photograph is as sharp as any other, even though I didn't quite like how it turned out.