dougbushphotography-blog

[dougbushphotography-blog]

Linking two obsessions.

I am obsessed with maps. Is it any surprise that a hiker and environmental photographer loves poring over maps? I mean is there really much difference between a map and a photograph? Maps are- like my photographs- another way of visually representing the natural world. Both are interpretations - translations of the world onto a flat canvas. The map maker and the photographer both attempt to squeeze a piece of the unbound, three dimensional world into the confines of a two dimensional rectangle. Both make decisions that pare down the infinite source material to make it fit the format, and to make it convey the creator’s message. Both make editorial decisions about the level of detail to show, the scale of the scene, what elements are essential to the message and what elements are distractions that should be excluded. Map makers and photographers both have a story to tell, or they have a platform they want to create for the viewer to make their own story.

I enjoy  looking at (or making) maps and looking at (or making) photographs for many of the same reasons. (By the way, I have a geography degree and get paid to make maps on occasion!) Maps and photographs are both ways for the maker and the viewer to travel through a scene with their eyes and their imaginations. It is a real thrill to take a piece of something that fascinates you and capture it in a medium that allows you to enjoy it and explore it from the comfort of your home. Both mediums provide a jumping off point for an imagined or actual voyage.

I use maps and photography as a form of escapism. When the world goes dark (literally or metaphorically) and I can’t go out to play, I turn to maps. I look on the computer (Google Earth, CalTopo, USGS) and on paper (USGS, Tom Harrison Maps). Like photographs, maps are a reminder of places I’ve been and places I want to go. I’ve created one map to record all of the hikes I’ve taken in the Sierra Nevada. When I look at it, I feel accomplished (oh the places I’ve been!) and excited (oh the places I’ll go!). I think – “wow, I remember the lightning storm on that one – how close the strikes were and how the water pooled around my tent.” I think, “that was my first time backpacking by myself – I remember going to sleep under clear skies only to wake up in the middle of the night with rain hitting my face.” I think, “wow – I can’t believe I dragged my parents over that rocky pass and they didn’t break an ankle!” Other times I think, “boy, I was so close to the top of that peak (Mt Simmons), but I was too lazy or too scared to go the extra distance.”

Maps are great for reflection.  They’re also good for fantasy and exploration. As I look over a map, questions come to mind: what does it look like there, how did it get that name (Hell-for-sure-pass sounds intriguing!), has anyone ever stepped foot there? Navigational questions arise: what is the most efficient way to get there, could I make it all the way out there over a weekend, I wonder how I could string each destination into a loop… Whether I just use those questions as inspiration for my fantasies of exploration, or to plan a future photo shoot, or as the first step to learning the history or ecology of the place – a map is a place I am happy to get lost in.

The three photographs included in this post are each from places I found on a map. I thought, “I wonder what it’s like out there...”

[dougbushphotography-blog]

Yolla Bolly Middle Eel Wilderness

The Yolla Bolly-Middle Eel Wilderness Area is a vast, wild area in Northern California located primarily within the extensive Mendocino National Forest. After two weeks of smoke from the latest California wildfires, a friend and I headed to find some clearer air and hopefully clear our heads. Though we didn’t find full relief from the smoke, we were fortunate to spend a weekend in this special place where the beauty of the area helped us escape from the harsh realities of recent events.

The area has been part of the National Wilderness Preservation System since the passage of the Wilderness Act in 1964. It is approximately 152,000 acres, or roughly 5 times the size of San Francisco. The photographs in this post come from a recent weekend spent with a good friend in one small part of this impressive area.

According to the Forest Service, the area gets its name from the Wintun Indian language. "Yo-la" means "snow covered", and "Bo-li" means "high peak." The are ranges from 2,600 to over 8,000 feet. The highest peaks include Hammerhorn Peak, Mt Solomon, North Yolla Bolly Peak and Mt Linn - all of which typically hold snow from late fall to early summer.

In fall the color of the oaks and dry grasses peaks, just before the winds and rains of the season strip them bare. Below, leaves of the alder trees that grow in cool creekbeds mingle with the dry tussock sedges.

The second part of the wilderness’ name refers to the headwaters of the Middle Fork Eel River, which flows through the diverse and rugged drainages of the area. This portion of the river is federally protected under the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. This act recognizes 1/4 of 1% of the nation’s rivers for their “outstandly remarkable scenic, recreational, geologic, fish and wildlife, historic, cultural or other similar values.” Rivers protected under this act are preserved in their free flowing condition and “shall be protected for the benefit and enjoyment of present and future generations.” Like the Wilderness Act that protects this area, the Wild and Scenic designation prioritizes long term value over short term returns. Thank goodness. (Unless of course you subscribe to the philosophy mocked by the tongue-in-cheek bumper sticker “earth first - log the other planets later”)

Above, we hike toward the confluence of two creeks that flow into the Eel. Below, the emerald green waters in this particular creek continue to flow despite the lack of precipitation during the prior rainy season. The river valleys are hundreds of feet deep in many places. The sun doesn’t rise high enough to reach the bottoms in some places. A lack of sunlight and cold air that sinks down into these valleys means that many pools were already frozen over with 2-4 inches of ice.

Access is long and difficult to get to the wilderness and even more challenging when you reach the trailheads. Like much of the Mendocino National Forest, it is one of those “sorry, you can’t get there from here” places. Access requires long miles on rough, rarely used dirt roads that close seasonally because of wash-outs, snow and other hazards. In the late fall, after hunting season, the temperatures drop, water becomes more scarce and the threat of harsh weather means it is rare to see others.

Though maps suggest that vast trail networks exist in the western area of the wilderness, we have found that only a few trails are well marked, including a couple that lead 1000+ feet down to the river. On this particular weekend, we made two different trips down to the river and back up again.

Few trails see much use or maintenance and are difficult to follow if they still exist at all. Without trails, it is difficult to penetrate the forest because of downed trees in burn areas, steep topography, loose soils, giant rock laden creeks, poison oak, rattlesnakes, etc. It is unfortunate that the trails are not better maintained but as with all delicate natural places - access is a double edged sword - it can be both essential and threatening.

Maybe the poor condition of the roads and trails will help keep the area wild, or maybe it will prevent future generations from understanding the value of the place and in turn lead to removal of the wilderness designation... Whether you ever go there yourself, or simply enjoy the place through photographs like these - know that there is magic worth protecting in “them thar hills.”

Let me know you’re out there! Contact me through my website at DougBushPhotography.com or on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/dougbushphotography/  If you don’t comment - I don’t know you’re out there!

[dougbushphotography-blog]

Do you ever look at a photograph you took, or even simply look at a map and think to yourself - “wow, I was there! Like this same body that is sitting on the couch right now.. me, this me, was in that place...” And then you think, “but was it really? How much of the “me” then, is the same “me” now?”

[dougbushphotography-blog]

I’m daydreaming about my time in the mountains this summer and wishing winter wasn’t arriving so quickly. Here is a simple detail from a Wyoming stream if you feel like staring into the abyss and daydreaming with me...

[dougbushphotography-blog]

Wandering a Gaviota beach

Anyone who has been to California’s Central Coast, more specifically, the beaches from Gaviota to Santa Barbara, knows that these beaches have a unique and beautiful quality. Though Highway 101 is no more than 100 feet from the water in many places, once you’ve parked your car off the road, hurried across the railroad tracks and scrambled down a dusty cliff-side, more often than not you will find yourself in solitude. There on the beach, in the narrow sands between the warm water and crumbling sandstone cliffs, you will find rocks... lots and lots of rocks.

The geology there offers a fascinating wealth of colors, shapes and textures that is always changing. As you look into a smooth round hole carved into a large boulder, you notice a small rock and think to yourself, “that rock has been there for decades, carving out that space over eons.” But then, the crashing sound of the water interrupts your thought, a wave rearranges the scene before you, pulling the rock from the hole and depositing a replacement. You remember that you are on a “beach” - another word for impermanence.

Even the sounds of the shoreline are shaped by this geology. As the tide comes in and out, as the waves pound the shore, rocks are dragged along the sand, crunching and bouncing off of one another, shaping a dynamic and soothing soundtrack that could easily lull you to sleep. But don’t sleep. The sun has set, the tide is coming in and there are too many things to see before the light fades to dark blue.

[dougbushphotography-blog]

Spring Wildflowers

Spring is one of my favorite times of year (is there really a bad time of year in California?) Wildflowers are an absolute highlight for me and something that I look forward to every spring. With such diverse topography, micro-climates and soil types throughout the state, there is a mind blowing variety of wildflowers waiting to be found (especially after such a wet winter.) It is a bit of a treasure hunt really and you never know what you’re going to find…

Having lived in San Luis Obispo for a few years back, I lived in close proximity to some notable wildflower hotspots, famous locally and throughout the state. From the arid valleys on the east side of the county - Carrizo Plain and Shell Creek Road- to coastal locations such as Montana del Oro, wildflowers are abundant in the area when the conditions are right. Montana del Oro is the name of a state park on the coast just south of Morro Rock. The park got its name, literally translated to “mountain of gold,” from the Spanish explorers who first arrived around 1562 when the coast was in full bloom.

While I lived in the area, I saw some gorgeous displays. Due to the extreme drought however I never got to see the most famous location, the Carrizo Plain, in full expression. Last Saturday however, I looked at Elena and said, “hey, should we just go for it? It is 5 hours away but who cares, let’s go!” An hour later we were on the road…

As we traveled from the Bay Area down 101, we saw few wildflowers from the road, other than the roadside poppies and occasional lupine. As we turned east from Paso Robles however, the displays started to appear gradually in the distant hills. Splotches of gold could be seen here and there but were relatively sparse. As we entered the valley proper, that’s when we started to see the full extent of the bloom. There were tens of millions of flowers carpeting the valley floor and the sides of the hills on either side of the valley. It was truly spectacular.

One area of flowers was especially dense. The displays are just surreal. The flowers are so abundant, it is almost hard to comprehend it all. When seen from a distance, the flowers create what truly appear to be lakes of color. There was one distant display of a purple flowers known as Common Phacelia that we honestly thought was a lake – until we got close enough of course.

It is hard to sit out there among the fields of flowers and not think to yourself, “what is the meaning of this!?” There is one particular idea that really hit home. During the day, you stare out at all the fields of color, made up of orange fiddlenecks, yellow tidy tips, goldfields, purple phacelia and others – and the abundance of color moves you. When you close your eyes, your ears are filled with the sounds of bees and other insects, happily buzzing along, as if you are in the midst of a busy insect intersection. With the plentiful numbers of bugs, it is no mistake that you also hear the sound of meadowlarks, thrush and other birds calling near and far.

As the sun sets and you nestle in to your sleeping bag, the sounds change. The colors of the valley are muted by night and the sounds of the day disappear. Then that silence is interrupted by the scurry of small feet. With your head resting on the ground, you can hear the sounds of the endangered kangaroo rats who traverse their underground network of tunnels. Like the bugs and songbirds of the daytime – the kangaroo rat also has her own antagonist. The owls screech sporadically through the night. The rare but boisterous sounds of coyotes calling to each other across the valley pairs well with the sliver of a moon overhead.

The seasonality of these wildflower displays and the faint but omnipresent soundtrack of the valley speak to an important principle of wildlands and to the significance of environmentalism- the importance of acknowledging the limits of what we are able to see, hear and otherwise perceive. For example, if you simply drove through this valley in the summer time, down a dusty road, in 100 degree heat, long after the blooms have come and gone - you would never know what invisible potential lay beneath the dusty and seemingly barren landscape. On a spring drive, or better yet a hike, the beauty and thus “significance” or “value” of the valley are much more obvious. My point is that maybe, more often, we should proceed with caution, walk lightly and remember that - “the world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”

[dougbushphotography-blog]

I haven’t been to good at this blogging thing lately. I have been fully immersed in my maps though and certainly looking forward to trips this spring and into the summer. The snow pack is heavy this year, apparently heavier than its been in two decades. This means the high mountain backpacking trips will be pushed a bit later this year, but the snowy backcountry trips will extend well into the spring. One thing’s for sure- after the fun I had in Wyoming last year, I’ll be heading back for more this year as well. Here’s a typical scene in the Wind River Range from last August.

[dougbushphotography-blog]

I’ve been doing some digital spring cleaning lately, trying to weed out the crap while also revisiting some old sessions that have been collecting dust. This photograph was from an early morning walk into the Conness Lakes basin in the Hoover Wilderness, adjacent to Yosemite National Park. I had marked this one as a reject but before deleting I came back to it and gave it a second look. I think I like it.

Maybe my emotional attachment to the place is just clouding my judgement. It is a common thing I struggle with. I often ask myself, “do I like this just because it reminds me of a personal moment, or is this a decent photo even when it is seen apart from the experience that led to its creation?” I think its a little like how children always look adorable to their parents regardless of how strange they may appear to the rest of the world.

Well on that note... see you again soon!

[dougbushphotography-blog]

Mendocino National Forest

Many people have never been to the Mendocino National Forest. Heck, most people don’t even know this part of the state exists. Part of this is due to the fact that most Californians will only stray as far as the asphalt will lead them. Many of the places that are so deeply embedded in our collective understanding of the state are in fact, roadside attractions.

Heading west from Red Bluff on the last section of paved road.

Highway 1 leads you through the entire state, past a majority of the state’s coastline; weaving through palm trees in the south, artichoke fields through the middle and towering redwoods in the north. Highway 5 on the other hand, blazes a 70mph trail through the center of the state, from Mexico to Oregon, passing by the smog filled streets of LA and on through the agroindustrial wasteland of the central valley breadbasket of the world, and continues further to Sacramento, Shasta and beyond.

“But what about that giant green blob over there... can I drive through that? Why yes, yes you can! The roads may not be paved and cell phone service may be nonexistent but for those equipped with high ground clearance and a lust for solitude - hundreds of miles of gravel roads and poorly maintained trails await you in the Mendocino National Forest.

Home to some of the highest peaks in Northern California, this diverse land harbors rugged, unique ecosystems that support a diversity of flora and fauna including over 32 species of conifers(!) and numerous megafauna including herds of Roosevelt Elk, Black Bear and maybe even... bigfoot? Covering some 3,700 square miles and almost a million acres the Mendocino National Forest is big. Real big.

Dustin, enjoying a celebratory drink of firewater at the top of South Yolla Bolly Peak (8,094 ft.)

I first started to explore this section of the Coast Range by visiting Snow Mountain Wilderness (recently recognized as a national monument by President Obama) and have slowly branched out from there. Friends of mine have also taken an increasing interest in the area, looking for snow covered peaks in the winter and spring and escaping to the lush greenery and flowing rivers in the summer and fall. On a recent trip, three of us drove out to Redbluff in the Central Valley and headed west - driving through approximately 130 miles of dirt roads to traverse one section of this expansive landscape. Below are some of the memorable moments from our trip, a visit to the Yolla Bolly Middle-Eel Wilderness in the Mendocino National Forest.

After a first night of rain and high winds, we awoke to one of the most gorgeous misty mornings I have ever experienced. The clouds were above us and below us with the sun rising in between.

We took an off trail hike down to the Eel River. We have never seen so much scat in our lives. Every 10 feet we saw bear scat. Dustin found an antler that had been shed by a buck.

I look forward to going back again in the spring...

[dougbushphotography-blog]

Grazing Elk, Humboldt County, California.

[dougbushphotography-blog]

I spent some time in Oregon recently and had some pretty heavy rains. Though I didn’t get to shoot much because of the weather, I did manage to see some gorgeous views on the drive up, as the first of the storm left and the second half was arriving.

Weather and landscape photography are a funny thing. On the one hand, its a pain in the ass to shoot when there is wind, rain and high contrast lighting. On the other hand, weather means light and light is everything.

[dougbushphotography-blog]

Over the last 5-10 years, much of my free time has been spent developing new work and building my portfolio. Despite this, I have spent a relatively minute amount of time actually organizing or sharing my photographs. While I work over 40 hours a week at one job, I do dedicate much of my free time to spending time outdoors - in the water and on land. I obsess over plans to explore places near and far, staring at maps nearly every night in anticipation of future adventures. My camera comes along nearly everywhere I go however it is rare that I make time to share my work and my experiences. Over the coming months I will continue to update this blog, introducing new work through the blog and my website (www.DougBushPhotography.com). I hope you’ll join me. I hope this blog will serve as a two-way street and become a platform for us to connect through stories and the photographs that help to tell them.