The Terra Galleria Blog – QT Luong

Eliot Porter was to color photography what Ansel Adams was to black-and-white. The jacket flap of one his books published in 1970 simply stated “Eliot Porter is recognized as the finest color photographer alive today”. It can be argued that Porter was not only the first color nature photographer, but also the first major artist working in the medium of color photography, a decade before “early colorists” Saul Leiter and Fred Herzog, and more than two decades before William Eggleston.

Eggleston began to experiment with dye-transfer printing in 1973, but Porter had worked in the early 1940s with an even more complicated precursor, the washoff-relief process, which was so obscure that Porter – who was initially a research scientist with a MD degree from Harvard – had to obtain information about it in research papers. Dye transfer allowed a fine control of hue, saturation, and contrast which Porter would use to make highly expressive prints. In those early days, technical challenges of color photography were such that Porter’s photographs were a supreme technical achievement. From an artistic point of view, besides seeing in color, Porter broke away from the sublime emphasized by Ansel Adams expansive romantic views of the landscape, striving instead for intimacy and abstraction, and defining the genre of “intimate landscapes”.

Books of color photography are nowadays omnipresent, but it was not always so. There was a first, and it was Eliot Porter who lead the way in 1962 with In Wildness, the pioneering “coffee table” book. It has since then spawned an entire industry which also includes nature posters and greeting cards. Its success led him to eventually publish more than 25 books. At the time of his death, in 1990, in terms of publications, public and institutional acclaim, influence on other photographers and on the environmental movement, Porter stood apart. Yet, for reasons I am not sure, in the 21st century, Porter’s reputation seems to have faded to the point that none of his books remain in print as of this writing. However In Wildness is coming back soon, and a new catalog from the Getty Museum, Eliot Porter: In the Realm of Nature is announced for this fall. Fortunately, so many of his books were sold that most titles can readily be found on used-books websites at prices that are a bargain.

In Wildness Is the Preservation of the World

In the 1940s, Porter began a personal project to photograph forests, ponds, leaves, and wildflowers in the Eastern woods, introducing a more intimate window on nature, in color and soft hues, in which he looked for the transcendental as he was reading Thoreau at the suggestion of his wife. When David Brower accepted the proposal from Porter to publish the project as his first book, the Sierra Club did not skimp on its production. Raising $40,000 ($300,000 in today’s currency), they printed out a large (10×13) and heavy book – part of the “exhibit format series” which had started with This is American Earth, possibly Ansel Adams most important and famous book. In Wildness consisted of 72 large format color photographs of the New England woods, reproduced as well as they could be at that time, using four-color lithography and a special varnish only on the photo pages which used Kromekote paper. Each of them is cleanly paired with a quotation from Henry David Thoreau – printed on the left opposite page and served by great typography – which matches the image in spirit. First published in 1962, the book was an instant sensation, selling close to 60,000 copies – more than This is American Earth. To understand the magnitude of this success, notice that the cost of the book was $25. This is $188 in 2012 currency. The book revolutionized the publishing industry by setting new standards for designing and printing fine art photography books, and proving that there was a market for them. It earned the Sierra Club an international reputation as a publisher of fine books, and helped expend their audience (for a thorough exposition, see the book chapter The Sierra Club and Coffee Table books). Published in the same year as Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, and delivering a complementary message, the book had a lasting effect on the nascent conservation movement. Besides establishing Porter’s reputation as the pioneer of color photography, and effectively launching his career, the public’s positive response to In Wildness showed him that he could use photography to make people aware of nature’s beauty without compromising his artistic goals. This transformed him into an active conservationist. In Wildness would remain in print for decades. According to the Amnon Carter Museum, more than one million copies were sold. I remember purchasing a used copy in the first month after I moved to Berkeley in 1993, and keeping it at my bedside for weeks, as I found it incredibly inspiring, even with the diminished power of the paperback edition. Porter’s images showed to me that beauty could be found in the most humble scenes, and revealed by a honest representation without excessive effects. I eventually bought a copy of the first hardcover edition, which is more satisfactory with its large size and more vivid reproductions. Yet, there is no doubt that book printing has improved considerably since then. Comparing side by side, the reproduction of the original cover image (“Pool in a Brook, Brook Pond, New Hampshire, October 4, 1953”) looks better in Intimate Landscapes (1979) and Eliot Porter (1987). With that in mind, I had good hopes for the 50th anniversary edition released by Ammo books in Nov 2012, but didn’t purchase a copy after seeing that Michael Johnston and Geoff Wittig gave it a thumbs down: “In comparison with the original first edition, which I have, the reproduction in the reissue looks like bad color Xeroxes”. The link at the top of this entry points to the first 1962 edition, which is somehow difficult to locate amongst all the amazon links for various editions.

The Place No One Knew, Glen Canyon on the Colorado

Unlike his first one, the second book of Eliot Porter was to be part of an environmental campaign – to stop construction of the Glen Canyon Dam. Unlike the gentle woods were Porter spent much of his early years, it depicts the more striking and harsh geology of the Southwest where Porter would live for the second half of his life after his move to Santa Fe. This setting, and the stronger light yields some of Porter’s most colorful and abstracted photographs. The influential conservation photographer Robert Glenn Ketchum considers this work to be the pinnacle of Porter’s career, because “he was free in those canyons to give service to his science and his documentation and still be in abstraction heaven”. The book is all the more precious because it is an eulogy. It came too late to affect public opinion and prevent the flooding, although it did result in federal review of reclamation projects on western rivers and the eventual passage of the Wilderness Act in 1964. Therefore, when looking at the vibrantly colored photographs of gulches, rock walls, and hidden canyons carved by the Colorado and San Juan Rivers, one cannot help remembering that those treasures would never be seen again. The book design – by David Brower himself – and format are identical to In Wildness, making it almost a companion volume. The design used in the Sierra Club Exhibit series has varied over the years, but all the Porter books in the series present images with adequate white margins, consistent placement, and no gutter overlap, although the print quality appears to have degraded over the years. A compelling writer who would often share the circumstances of his photography adventures and educate about their subjects, Porter wrote the text in the opening and concluding pages. He selected the quotations facing the photos from a variety of writers to face the photos instead of just one.

Summer Island: Penobscot country

This is the most personal of all Porter’s books. His father had bought Great Spruce Head Island, accessible by an hour boat ride in the Penobscot Bay of Maine, where “there was nothing anywhere that was unnecessary; nothing; whether the work of man or nature that existed without a purpose”. The summers that he spent there were the source of his love of nature and photography. The book is divided in two equal parts. In the first part, autobiographical texts are mixed with early black and white photographs of Penobscot Bay. The second part, in the spirit of the two first Porter Books, consists of color photographs in Porter’s mature style, mixed with short literary quotations from more than a dozen of authors. Published in 1966, this was the third book by Porter in the Sierra Club Exhibit series. Twenty years later, in 1986, Porter revisted the place closest to his heart by compiling unpublished images into a new book Maine where he lets the photography do all the speaking – there is little text besides a short opening autobiographical essay – in a clean NYGS/Eleanor Caponigro design.

Antarctica

Maine and the Eastern forests were Porter’s first stomping grounds. He then explored extensively the Southwest where he relocated, but his sense of adventure led Porter to expend his horizons to exotic locales as diverse as Baja California, the Galapagos, Africa, Greece, and China, each trip resulting in a book. But none location was as remote as Antarctica, which he visited on two trips in 1974 and 1975. At that time, no commercial trips were available, but Porter had been selected as an artist-in-residence by the National Science Foundation, which provided him transportation and logistics that allowed him to work in a large array of locations for several months. The book consists of an extensive travelogue supported by maps. In between written chapters, there are six photo sections which illustrate diverse aspects of Antarctica, including wildlife as well as landscapes – both ground and aerials – and even historic settlements. Porter was remarkably fit for his age, however he was 74 during those expeditions. Because of the difficult working conditions, he used a 35mm camera for much of this work, which sometimes compromised a bit the quality of reproduction compared with his older books, although in most cases with his later books, the printing was too contrasty.

Birds of North America: A Personal Selection

Porter had been photographing birds since his early years, but in 1939 a publisher rejected his bird book proposal because he thought that color was essential for bird identification. This was the impetus that prompted Porter to take up of the challenge of color photography. To fully appreciate it, remember that Porter was working with a 4×5 camera, a few feet from some birds, and the speed of the initial Kodachrome was a ridiculously low ISO 5. With the support of a Guggenheim grant, using custom lighting equipment and building towers, Porter was able to make color bird pictures which were good enough to be the subject of a solo exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art, New York, in 1943. Those are far more interesting than the visual simple contemporary bird photographs with a blurred background captured with AF, super-teles, and fast frame rates, and high ISO. Instead, Porter portrays the birds at close-range, in their natural nesting environment with exquisite colors and textures revealed by great resolution and depth of field. Despite artistic recognition, the book had to wait because of the high cost of color quality color reproduction. It wasn’t until 1972, long after gaining success with his non-bird photographs, that Porter would publish that book about his first photographic love. It consists of a five-chapter narrative about his time in the field as a caring bird photographer, (“the steps necessary to safeguard the welfare and even the lifes of the subjects may take up more time than the photography itself”) mixed with seven groups of full-page photos – 64 in color, 16 in black and white.

Intimate Landscapes

In 1979 the work of Eliot Porter was exhibited in Intimate Landscapes, the first one-person show of color photography at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. This exhibition earned Porter praise as the individual who brought credibility to color photography as a medium of fine art. The image selection defined what is now meant by the term “intimate landscape”: the close-range, quiet compositions of natural elements with muted colors and dense textures, meditative and dense with layered meanings, which were the hallmark of Porter’s work at the exclusion of more expansive and spectacular landscapes. The book is the catalog of this landmark exhibition, well printed (although maybe too muted) and flawlessly designed by Eleanor Morris Caponigro in an understated way which fits perfectly the work. Curator Weston Naef authors one of the first essays on Porter, describing him as “captivated by colors that had not yet been named”. Except for a few, all the images are in vertical orientation, therefore fitting the format of the book well. Unlike others, this book has become collectible, with no reprints available, so there are no inexpensive copies.

Eliot Porter’s Southwest *

Long before bursting on the scene with the color photographs of “In Wildness” in 1962, Porter had become a recognized black and white photographer through a body of work which is now mostly forgotten. His black and white photographs were exhibited at Steiglitz “An American Place” art gallery in 1938 – not an insignificant honor since Ansel Adams and Paul Strand were the only other photographers represented there -, prompting him to leave science and devote himself to photography full-time. In 1980, Janet Russek who Porter had hired to help catalog his photographs, came across boxes of pictures that she did not recognize. There were hundreds of unpublished images taken in New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, and Utah from 1939 to 1962. This 1985 book, the only one devoted to Porter’s black and white work, consists of a selection of 90 of those images, covering an unexpectedly large range of subjects.

Eliot Porter

The book was published in 1987 on the occasion of Porter’s first major retrospective at the Amon Carter museum, to which Porter would later bequeath his entire work, which is available to view at the extensive Eliot Porter online collection guide. It opens with a 75-page autobiographical memoir which ranges from his early years, move to Santa Fe, work with the Sierra Club, to his later exotic travels. Porter remembers a pivotal encounter early in his career: “The other photographer turned out to be Ansel Adams, of whom I had never heard… After dinner, I was asked to show my pictures, which I did with a certain amount of self-satisfaction. Ansel Adams looked at them but said nothing, and then showed his. That was a traumatic and embarrassing experience; I saw immediately how vastly superior his photographs were to mine, and how little I know about photography technically, or what its potential was for creative expression … Sensing my embarrassment, Ansel Adams tried to encourage me, suggesting that my photography could be improved by using a larger format camera.” The memoir concludes with an epilogue: “But before all else a work of art is the creation of love. Love for the subject first and for the medium second. Love is the fundamental necessity underlying the need to create, underlying the emotion that gives it form, and from which grows the unfinished product that is presented to the world. Love is the general criterion by which the rare photograph is judged. It must contain it to be not less than the best of which the photographer is capable”. The plate section presents a selection from all his projects, including not only color natural landscapes, but also early black and white work and bird photographs, and later foreign cultural work, which even includes a few portraits. Excellent reproductions and design (also by Eleanor Morris Caponigro) make it the best introduction to Porter’s work.

Nature’s Chaos

When his son gave him James Gleick’s recently published book about chaos theory, Porter felt as if all he intuitively sensed in nature and tried to capture in his photographs, but could not conceptualize scientifically during all his life, was described by complexity sciences and fractal geometry. Science and art, the two strands of his life that had been separated for a long time – despite in background and continued interest – were all of the sudden reconciliated, which brought him much peace. Porter quickly made contact with James Gleick and he validated his intuition as they began to work on this book, his last before he passed away in 1990. Nature’s Chaos was the first book of Eliot Porter that I saw. I bought it during a brief scientific visit to the US in 1991. At that time, as a PhD student in Artificial Intelligence, I was first drawn to the science, but it the photographs that had a lasting impact on me. They opened my eye to the richness, diversity, simplicity and complexity of nature. It remains one of my favorites because the selection of images – almost all previously unpublished – is very cohesive and strong, and as one of the more recent books, it is has some of the best reproductions. “The images selected for this book are mostly details of nature which emphasize how nature’s apparent disorder can be reduced to aesthetically stimulating fragments. Although subjects such as mosses, lichens, or leaves that have just fallen are not orderly at all, when viewed as detailed sections, they become orderly. This process suggests a tension between order and chaos. When I photography, I see the arrangement that looks orderly, but when you consider the subjects as a whole or on a larger scale, they appear disorderly. Only in fragments of the whole is nature’s order apparent.”

The Color of Wildness *

The most comprehensive survey of Porter’s work to date, published in 2001 as a catalog to the centennial exhibition, using the same large trim as In Wildness. Although there are plenty of autobiographical essays in Porter’s books, not too many critical essays were available in previous books. The Color of Wildness include two interesting ones: John Rohrbach addresses Porter’s innovations in photography compared to photographers such as Ansel Adams, while Rebecca Solnit explores its environmental influence. In addition, his son Jonathan memoir discusses Porter’s lifelong love of the natural world, his working methods, and his interests outside of photography. Since this is a relatively recent book, I would have expected excellent reproduction. While most plates are fine, some do suffer from excessive contrast, resulting in blocked shadows. Although Porter used a large format camera, he made small, gem-like dye transfer prints, whose richness is very difficult to reproduce by ink. Maybe the best reproductions so far are in Regarding the Land: Robert Glenn Ketchum and the Legacy of Eliot Porter, which as indicated by the title, is more about RGK than Porter.

I have a half-dozen more books by Eliot Porter on my shelves – of uneven quality I must say – but those are either my favorites (for a variety of reasons), or books that shed a particular light on Porter’s work. Did any other book inspire you ?

Part 3 of 5: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Big Bend National Park, named after the prominent northward bend in the Rio Grande River, has three distinctive environments: the Chisos Mountains, the desert, and the river. During my previous visit, I spent most of my time in the Chisos Mountains, where the temperatures are much cooler than in the rest of the park. Since this time the desert wasn’t in great shape, I concentrated on the great river.

I returned to the Hot Springs, that I had visited a decade and half ago under overcast skies (this was all I got). Conditions were more promising. As the light of sunset was quickly fading, I scrambled to find a good perspective over the Rio Grande River. The view along the trail to the Hot Springs, at river level, was obscured by vegetation, but I found another steep trail which lead to above the cliffs.

The parking lot had signs warning of frequent car break-ins, due to the proximity of Mexico – just across the River. I nevertheless set up my camera for a timelapse sequence, then left it there all night, figuring out that nobody would come upon the bluff at that time.

In the morning, after photographing sunrise near the Chisos, I came back to retrieve my camera around 7am. The early morning backlight gave the scene a different character.

At the Boquillas Overlook, I saw how easy it is to cross the border between Mexico and the US, which is marked by the river. The Rio Grande is the fifth longest river in the US, but you would not know it is a great river from looking at it here, as it meanders placidly amongst willows. You had just to wade for about 50 yards with the water at less than waist level.

The border officially closed after the 9/11 attacks, nevertheless Mexican nationals from the Boquillas village frequently took quick trips to this side, possibly to maintain the self-service vending spots. Note that although the border itself is porous, all the highways leading from Big Bend National Park are interrupted by checkpoints.

Most trailheads had honor system stands with hand crafted wares sold (at a pretty uniform price) to benefit schoolchildren of Boquillas: bracelets, scorpions made of metal wire, sticks made of cactus wood, and stones.

I walked into the Boquillas Canyon. A man stood on the other side of the river, and would sing you a Mexican serenade for a tip collected by his acolyte using a small boat. I declined to be serenaded, but instead promised to buy some souvenirs for my kids. The temperature was well over 100 F. I drove to the Chisos mountains to cool down, then headed towards Santa Elena Canyon through the Ross Maxwell drive.

I had planned some night photography at the Santa Elena Canyon, but shortly after I arrived, a violent thunderstorm broke out. I waited it out in the car as thunder rumbled at 30 second intervals. By the time the storm was weakening, the road through which I came had become flooded. In the pitch dark night, I chose prudence by staying at the trailhead rather than attempting to drive to the official campground.

In the morning, I found out that Terlinga Creek was overflowing. Since the banks appeared to be full of quick sand and I was by myself with nobody around, I did not try to cross. Instead, I photographed the sunrise over Santa Elena Canyon across the creek. The seemingly modest river had carved a narrow gorge 1,500 feet deep into sheer cliffs.

As I was packing, a ranger drove by. He was surprised that I had made it there. After I told him that I had arrived before the storm, he informed me that the floodwaters were now quite high, and suggested that I abandon my vehicle and get a ride back in his truck. This wasn’t exactly my plan. Instead, I insisted on trying to get back by driving the rental car. I put my camera gear and electronics into his truck, in case the car would get flooded. It didn’t, and I made it back to Castolon while the ranger closed the gates behind us. I found a hose near the Castolon historic store to get rid of the mud stuck to the car, then headed to El Paso airport and home.

More images of Big Bend National Park
More images of Rio Grande River

Part 5 of 5: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

I saw a few cactus blooms from the trail in Guadalupe National Park. Although they were less than a hundred yards away, it took me more than 15 minutes to reach them, because of thorny plants covering the slope. Returning with plenty of scratches, I decided that I’d put more effort into photographing desert plants in Carslbad Caverns, and especially Big Bend. Little did I know that my search for the desert flower would be fruitless, as the desert turned out to be deeply damaged.

Like most, during my two previous visits to Carlsbad Caverns, I had spent almost all of my time inside the cave, as there is so much to see under the ground, while the gently undulating terrain above the ground did not look remarkable at first glance. This time, I was going to have a closer look, since this was an aspect of the park that I thought was overlooked.

While driving the entrance road, even without stopping – there are few pull-outs -, I noticed the slopes of Walnut Canyon looked quite dead. On the first short hike I took, I realized that most of the terrain had burned.

Despite appearances, desert vegetation provide a lot of fuel. I learned later that the fire took place just one year earlier, in June 2011, and that it had burned 30,000 acres, more than the total area of some National Parks.

By coincidence, on that evening, another wildfire raged in the state. Although it blazed in an opposite corner of the state, the smoke obscured the sky, creating an eerie glow long before sunset time.

However, amongst the devastation, life was coming back quickly, in the form of new spring blooms from annuals.

The next day, was a new beginning, as the air was crystal clear. I eventually found some pockets of vegetation that had been spared by the fire. I then drove towards Big Bend, where I had high hopes for photographing desert vegetation, but my rental car began to make strange noises. I insisted on having it replaced, as I didn’t want a break-down in the remote Big Bend. It took me an entire half-day, so I arrived there only the following day.

Big Bend is one of the most diverse deserts in North America, at the convergence of the Great Basin Desert and the Chihuahuan Desert. Late May is normally a good time to see cactus blooms, which emerge only in the warmer months.

However, the desert just didn’t have its usual beauty. I looked for a nice agave to use as a foreground the next sunrise, but to my surprise couldn’t find any. Most yuccas were yellowed. At first, I didn’t make photographs, but then I felt I had to bear witness to all the different moods of nature, regardless of how un-attractive they are.

While looking for cactus blooms, I saw mostly dessicated plants. I assumed that the area must be suffering a prolonged drought, since those desert species are supremely hardy. The nearly indestructible plants such as creosote bush, lechuguilla, and cactus, were succumbing in large numbers.

The rangers confirmed to me that during 2011, only 2.5 inches of rain fell, less than a fifth of normal precipitation. Although less severe, the drought has continued through 2012. It has also contributed to the fire that devastated Carlsbad Caverns, by increasing the amount of dry timber.

Although I remembered clusters of dense and colored blooms all over the place from my 1997 visit, this year it took me a long time just to find a cactus with two meager blooms. If you are planning a spring trip to Big Bend, be sure to inquire about conditions. I don’t know if the Big Bend desert will eventually recover, but from what I’ve seen, I think that scars are going to remain for a long time, especially since vegetation mortality often leads to increased erosion and soil loss. Are we seeing there yet another manifestation of climate change ?

Part 4 of 5: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

During my two previous visits to Carslbad Caverns, more than a decade ago, I took the elevator to get quickly to the most scenic section of the Cavern, the Big Room. This time, I walked down from the Natural Entrance.

I tried to make images to illustrate the experience of visiting the cave: the cavernous space, pathways, including a human figure for scale. Since nobody would stand still at the right spot for a multiple second exposure, I posed myself, using an intervalometer to extend the 10 second self-timer which was not long enough for me to get into position.

The Natural Entrance has fewer spectacular cave formations than the Big Room, but the sense of scale that it added through the long descent gave me a new appreciation for the size of the cave.

Back in the Big Room, the density of cave formations struck me. I was interested to see how different digital cameras reacted, compared to the film cameras that I used during my previous visit (high-resolution digital didn’t exist yet). Digital helped when I photographed the Painted Grotto. Like most films, Velvia is balanced for daylight. Cave lighting here use fluorescent lights. Although they look white to the eye, they are much more cold, and turn very green on film. Anticipating the problem, I did use a magenta color-correction filter on my previous visit, but it turned out not to be strong enough (difficult to estimate if you don’t own a color meter !), so the resulting slides still took a sickly green tint. I just tossed them. Digital processing was not included in my workflow at that time, but since then I’ve noticed that when all the information ends up in the green channel, with little in the red and blue channels, then even after photoshop color correction, tonality is quite poor.

This time, working in digital, I was at least able to make a proper picture. It also helped that I could blend two exposures to get details everywhere, as the speleotherms close to the lights are much brigher than the rest of the scene. On the other hand, for some other rock formations, the improvement wasn’t as marked. Here is the new digital image (single exposure) of the six-story tall column in Hall of Giants:

Here was the film image (5×7 transparency). Besides higher contrast, resulting in less highlight and shadow detail, you can notice that fluorescent light coming from the left was rendered much greener. In that particular image – and also in images of the Chandelier – this helped by creating an interesting color contrast. Because spectral response of digital and film is different, unlike for natural light images, it is not possible to duplicate easily that effect by changes in digital processing.

Do you prefer the digital image or the film image ?

More images of Carlslbad Caverns National Park

Part 3 of 5: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Some photographers are known only for their photographs. Ansel Adams was a public figure who enjoyed the spotlight, and used it as a passionate advocate for the things he believed in, photography and environmentalism. A teacher, prolific and talented writer, Adams left us with an unusually large set of writings which gives us a deep insight into his goals and methods. I have previously surveyed Ansel Adams photography books. In this post, I will review his books where the focus is on his writings – even though they all feature photographs as well.

An Autobiography

Ansel Adams autobiography, co-written with his collaborator Mary Street Alinder, was almost completed at the time of his passing, in 1984. It is a memoir as masterfully arranged as his photographs, focusing on his thoughts and work, which are greater than just the photographs: the struggle to make photography an accepted art form, the battles for the preservation of some of America’s most beautiful places. You get the story of a life extraordinary filled and well lived, even more inspiring than the photographs, which gain an additional dimension in that context. Adams introduces the reader to many influential 20th-century figures with whom he interacted, however he gives a somewhat stylized view of himself, not writing much about his personal life nor his family (read about those aspects of his life, imperfect like for many photographers, in Mary Street Alinder’s biography of Ansel Adams, which paints a more “real” picture). The autobiography is available as more economical and smaller (suitable for travel) paperback, but I recommend the hardcover version which is the main link, for it doubles as a good sized photography book, with 277 well-reproduced images, both illustrative and classic landscape images, picked up carefully to complement the text, while the paperback has just 8 pages of images in the middle.

Letters and Images, 1916-1984

This collection of letters is extraordinary in scope. We see correspondence written to (and received from) his father, wife, friends, newspaper editors, US presidents, and other prominent photographers such as Stieglitz and Weston. They provide a couple puzzle pieces, giving us a more revealing and intimate look at Adams thoughts and life, even including comments on his work – even though he has often stated that his images are his sole means of self-expression. The edition I linked to was published as a companion volume to the autobiography, in the same hardcover format. It includes 115 illustrations, mixing family photos (by Adams or of Adams by others) and classic images. However, because the images are not as closely tied to the text as in the autobiography, you don’t miss as much with the current paperback version, Letters, 1916-1984.

Examples: The Making of 40 Photographs

Only one year before his death, Ansel Adams picked 40 images spanning all genres in his entire career, and wrote a 3-page “story behind the image” essay for each of them, placed next to a full-page reproduction. Beyond interesting anecdotes and adventures, there is great insight into his thinking. As expected, the expert provides detailed technical explanations and data, but that’s a minor part of each essay, which is more concerned with personnal insights into his creative process, artistic vision and personal feelings. It’s one of my favorite books. Besides being a remarkable instructional book for those who like to learn by case studies, it is also an engaging chronicle of his journey as a photographer.

The Camera

Ansel Adams founded the first college-level photography department in the US at the California School of Fine Arts in 1946. This book is the first of a series of three instructional books (the Ansel Adams photography series) which aim to teach photography technique from A to Z, based on what Adams taught in class himself. They should be read in order. Adams used a view camera for most of his life, however the book is still of interest to digital shooters. First, it makes an effort to describe technique as it applies to small and medium format cameras as well, at a level suitable for the serious photographer getting started, providing a fundamental understanding of how the camera and lenses work, regardless of image capture technology. Second, even if you do not plan to use camera movements (enabled on DSLRs by tilt and shift or perspective control lenses), the section on view camera technique let you learn how Ansel Adams worked to create his images. Note that although there is a recently updated version of this book, I am linking to the books from the original series (which I have on my shelf), since I’ve read that the revised editions were modified by Adams collaborators.

The Negative

Adams most famous contribution to photography technique is the Zone System, which was a new approach for pre-visualizing how a scene is translated into a photographic image and determining optimal film exposure and development. Naturally, this book is the best exposition of the Zone System, making a particular effort to make this exacting technique accessible without compromises. For digital photographers – or film photographers who do not want to actually use the Zone System, besides the historical interest, this book gives you a crucial understanding of the process by which light becomes a photograph, and insight into how light meters and photo-sensitive surfaces interact with the different levels of light in the world. The rest of the book deals specifically with darkroom processing, so it is of interest only to B&W film photographers, in particular those working in large format. For them, like the whole trilogy, it remains a timeless reference, with many techniques remaining standards of fine art printing.

The Print

Adams was one of the best (if not the best) black and white printers in the history of photography. In the second half of his life, he spent most of this working time in the darkroom, where his search for beauty, exacting standards and skills were legendary. This book is the most technical of the three. The emphasis on chemicals and paper is heavy, yet again there is plenty of material relevant in the digital age: topics such as cropping, contrast control, and presentation. Adams explains not only the how (methodology) of altering tonal relationships to create a fine print, but also the why (philosophy) behind it. Although it requires some thought, it is not that difficult for a photographer experienced with contemporary digital tools to connect the dots and attempt similar adjustments.

Ansel Adams is one of the most celebrated photographers of all time, however the photographs, as important as they are, form only part of his legacy. I feel that they are best appreciated placed in the context of his life as an environmental activist, advocate and teacher for photography art and science. Would you agree that this give them more meaning ?

Part 2 of 5: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

On the day I photographed the solar eclipse, I hiked for more than six hours (considering the morning scouting session) and did not return to the car until 11pm. My initial plan was therefore to take a rest day, photographing the desert plants near the visitor center, and in particular the cactus which were starting to bloom in late May.

However, when I stepped in the visitor center in mid-morning, I noticed that high winds were forecast for the following evening. The winds at Guadalupe Mountains National Park are legendary, as Guadalupe Pass acts as a funnel with the prevailing west and southwest winds. Sustained winds in the 30+ miles per hour range and gusts exceeding 70 miles per hour are common. During my previous visit to the park, my tent nearly flew out, as I was not able to drive stakes deep enough into the hard ground of the campsite. I had to load it with rocks. I could not sleep, as the inside of the tent felt like a washing machine. This was at low elevation flats near Pine Springs, so it was out of question to try to hike to mountaintops, where the wind would have surely been worse. Since I missed the summit hike then, in spite of the late hour, my lack of rest, and the less than optimal forecast, I decided to try it immediately instead of risking being stymied by high winds again. I went back to my campsite and hurriedly packed.

The trail started with steep switchbacks on arid terrain without shade, which was brutally hot in the early afternoon. I was grateful for the sunscreen that my tent neighbors had given me.

At higher elevations, the environment changed, as the trail entered conifer forests. The weather changed too. Clouds began to fill the sky, I could feel some waterdrops and I heard distant thunder. Since I hadn’t taken my tent, instead of setting my overnight gear at the official backcountry campsite, I found a nearby spot sheltered by an overhanging boulder.

As thunder subsided, I resumed hiking. After 4.5 miles and an elevation gain of 3,000 feet, I reached the Guadalupe Peak, highest point in Texas ( (8,751 feet, or 2,667 meters) marked by a curious stainless steel monument placed by American Airlines in the 1950s.

As the sun peaked below the clouds half an hour before sunset, illuminating the backside of El Capitan towards the South, I was thankful for my luck. Not only did I dodge a thunderstorm, but instead of being drenched by the rain or waiting in dull light, I got nice conditions for the expansive views which were the main goal of the hike.

The view spanned 360 degrees. Towards the East, the shadow of Guadalupe Peak grew rapidly over the West Texas plains.

I watched the sun set on the other side, then I lingered on the summit for a few more night pictures before heading down in the dark back to my bivy.

After another short night, I got up more than one hour before sunrise in order to hike back up to the summit in time for the first light. Clouds were still lingering, but for a few minutes, a distant sunray was visible.

I took advantage of the cloudy conditions to make close-up images of the sub-alpine flowers.

By the time the sun reappeared, the light was less interesting, so I tried a series of images of myself standing in the landscape. I find that those work better when the human figure is small in the landscape, which necessitates standing a fair distance away from the camera, and triggering the shutter with an intervalometer rather than just the camera self-timer.

More images of Guadalupe Mountains National Park

Part 2 of 5: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

The May 20 2012 solar eclipse was to be an “annular eclipse”, which occurs when the Moon passes directly in front of the sun, but the lunar disk is too far from the earth to cover the entire sun. This leaves a “ring of fire” with the full brightness of the sun around the black circle formed by the moon. Although not as impressive as a total eclipse, in which the moon covers the entire surface of the sun, it is still a pretty impressive and rare event. Last time it happened over the USA was 18 years ago.

The “annularity path” in which the moon passes entirely in front of the sun, creating a ring, was a strip of about 300km wide, starting in Asia, and ending near Lubbock, in Western Texas. Only right on the center of the path is the moon perfectly centered over the sun at the eclipse’s maximum. Outside the path, the eclipse is partial, resulting in a crescent sun. I was initially planning to photograph the eclipse in Lassen National Park, which is almost perfectly centered, and a reasonable driving distance from San Jose.

However, a few days before the event, as I began to do more research, I realized that Lassen National Park would not work for the images that I had pre-visualized. Although the photographs would be made in a National Park, they would fall short of my goal to create landscape images that include the eclipse, rather than astronomical images. Using the NASA mapping tool, I noticed that the sun would be quite high (20 degrees elevation) and bright in the sky, as the maximum of the eclipse there would be at 6:30, two hours before sunset.

Observing the sun that high, you have to take serious precautions to protect your eyes (and cameras). You basically need a neutral density filter of about 14 f-stops which can absorb IR as well. After doing a quick test with such a filter – actually a stack of a Lee Big Stopper (10 f-stop) and a Hi-Tech (4 f-stop) – at 6:30 pm in San Jose, I found that the brightest exposure which did not overexpose the sun to be f8.0 1/250 at 100 ISO. At such an exposure, the sky is pitch black. It is underexposed by a massive 12 f-stops. So even in a composition with a silhouetted landmark – forget about trying to get detail in the landscape – would require a considerable amount of compositing and processing just to un-merge the silhouette from the sky. One could try HDR but at 12 EV difference and with the sun high in the sky, there is no real connection between the foreground and the sun, so you might as well clone in the sun, which results in an image which, no matter how interesting it would be, screams artificiality to me.

The solution for was to travel to West Texas, where the maximum of the eclipse would occur shortly before sunset,so it can be exposed properly while retaining color in the sky. At that time, the sun is much less bright. Equally important, it is closer to landforms, which make it possible to photograph the sun together with land using a telephoto lens, which fills more of the frame with the sun. In keeping with the project that’s occupied me for almost twenty year, I wanted to photograph in a National Park. Grand Canyon was in the annularity path, but the sun would be at a fairly high 10 degrees elevation, and the Canyon landforms are in a hole in the ground, rather than sticking out in the sky. I settled on Guadalupe Mountains National Park, although it is about 50 miles south of the annularity area. This meant that I settled down for a strange crescent rather than the “ring of fire”. Booking airfare on a short notice can be very expensive, but I was able to redeem air miles on United Airlines for a flight to El Paso, Texas.

After packing past midnight, I caught an early morning flight. Because I had to walk more than a mile with more than 40lbs of camera gear – fortunately airlines don’t weight carry-on bags in the US – during the connection in Phoenix International Aiport, I didn’t have time to buy a sandwich there. After getting one in El Paso, since I was eating while driving, to save time I declined to stop for groceries in town, thinking that on the 130 miles to Guadalupe Mountains National Park, I’d find some. It turned out that the area was more remote than I remembered from my last visit a decade ago. I had to make a significant detour to Dell City – there is no food in the Park – but there I found only a tiny store with not much provisions suitable for a vegetarian. I bought the last pack of cheese available. They didn’t even have bananas. I arrived in the Park in the late afternoon, one day before the eclipse, and started to scout.

I had envisioned images of the sun setting near the profile of El Capitan, this prominent landmark of West Texas, however I immediately understood that working from Hwy 62/180 east of the park would not do. The road was too close to El Capitan (therefore preventing the use of a telephoto), and also too low to catch the setting sun. The main difficulty was that El Capitan has a fairly broad shoulder on its south side, which would block the sunset unless one would stand several miles away. Near sunset time, I hiked to a high viewpoint, and from there observed which points of the surrounding rugged land caught the last light. The next day, I hiked to the most promising of those points for the whole morning, following industrial dirt roads before scrambling on outcrops. For each of them, I mapped the location on a topographic map using my GPS, then used the Photographer’s Ephemeris App to predict where the sun would set, which allowed me to calculate the longest focal length that I could use to include both the eclipse and the profile of El Capitan. As it was getting hot and my water supplies were almost depleted, I returned to the car and drove to White City (“City” is another misnomer) to look for food and continue planning in the shade.

The choice between the two top locations was difficult. One of them would allow me to work with a longer lens. I picked the other one, because the sun would set later from there. I had traveled all the way to West Texas so that the eclipse would occur near sunset ! I figured it out that I would make the best of the situation by setting up two time-lapse sequences, one with a wider view (65mm) including El Capitan (which would capture a longer portion of the eclipse), the other with a narrow view (400mm) focused on the setting sun, and a distant ridge. I loaded my backpack with three cameras, two tripods, and an assortment of lenses, and arrived on site half an hour before the start of the eclipse.

Close to sunset time, the sun at first glance may look like a crescent moon, but such a configuration is of course impossible with the moon. The contrast was low enough that some single-capture frames look good in video (and at web resolution), although I’ve yet to see if I can produce a smooth complete time-lapse movie. However, I wasn’t satisfied with them as stills, for which I wanted the potential to make prints. For the wide sequence, I didn’t get the optimal exposure, due the difficulty of adjusting for the considerably changing brightness of the sun over one hour as it went from blindingly bright to dim as approached the horizon, compounded by the distraction of juggling with two cameras. In the last minutes before the sun disappeared behind the ridge, the shutter speed was not high enough, which resulted in some blurring of the crescent’s edge. At that time the crescent was dim enough to easily observe directly with your own eyes, but the Canon 5D mk2/3 cameras have a much more limited dynamic range than eyes. Even with sky underexposure, there was no color detail left in the sun crescent, which was reduced to pure white. Moreover, brightening the sky by 1.5 f-stops resulted in annoying pattern noise, even at ISO 320, certainly a persistent weakness of Canon cameras – especially compared to Nikon that I’ve been eying since.

I decided to make a digital composite instead of adjusting a single-frame capture. For the landscape and sky, I used a frame taken just right after sunset with a better exposure. The sun was from a frame that I had captured a few minutes earlier using a different camera, and then scaled down and positioned to match the single-frame capture of that moment. Personally, I think that although it is a composite, it is truthful enough to what you’d see if standing on the edge of that plateau on the evening of May 20, 2012. What about you ? Would you have preferred the purity of the single-capture frame, or the better image quality of the digital composite ?

Part 1 of 5: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Using his technical mastery in the darkroom to create distinctively beautiful prints, Ansel Adams considered print quality to be the hallmark of his work. However, Adams also developed early in his career a great familiarity with other forms of photographic reproductions, working diligently with publishers to create books that would meet his standards. Not only his prints are amongst the most beautiful made in the chemical medium, his books feature also some of the highest quality reproductions of photography in ink produced at the time of their publication.

Ranked consistently as one of the most popular photographers of the 20th century, Adams reached most of his audience through books. By 1979, more than a million of them had been sold. Even without taking into account instructional books, there are still several dozens of books of his photography. In this post, I survey those books currently in print (as of 2012). The next post will survey Ansel Adams instructional & autobiographical books.

With the exception of the first two books, all these titles were published after Ansel Adams passing in 1984. Adams had found in the 1970s a commercial publisher whose printing standards he was at least pleased with, Little, Brown & Co. Consequently, they were given exclusivity, which is continued today by the Ansel Adams Publishing Rights Trust. Most of the books follow a well-proven format. The book opens with a critical introduction, often written by John Szarkowski, the most influential photography curator of recent times, by William Turnage, the man responsible for Adams success in the marketplace – which did not come until he reached his 70s, or another trustee such as collaborator Andrea Stillman. Adams own writings are then represented either by a preface from an older book, or some other selected writings relevant to the subject of the book. The book designs are classical and clean, with no image cut by the gutter, and text limited to captions or short Adams citations. Reproductions are consistently good, but yet some are still better than others.

Sierra Nevada: The John Muir Trail

Although released in 1938 in an edition of only 500 copies, it is one of the most important Adams books. Adams first landscape photography book, published at the peak of his creative powers, was called a “landmark” in photography mechanical reproduction by Szarkowski. It came to existence as Walter Starr, a wealthy businessman, underwrote its great costs as a memorial to his son, who had died in a mountaineering accident. I learned in the Ken Burns National Parks series of the role the book had in helping establish Kings Canyon National Park. Adams sent a copy to Interior Secretary Ickes, who showed it to Franklin Roosevelt. The president was so impressed that he decided to keep the book for himself. Because of his disability, that would be his only way to see the mostly roadless terrain of the park. This book is an economical reprint. There is also a limited edition reprint costing $1,200, whose reproductions I guess are superior – a slight downside of this edition.

The Portfolios of Ansel Adams

This book was first published in 1977, however, the second edition of 1981 improved reproduction quality significantly. It reproduces images by portfolios, which were the main method Adams had his original prints circulated. The book shows us Adams personal editing of his own work, in which he balances consistency and variety, including a broader amount of subject matter than the nature photography for which he is most admired. It is also interesting to follow Adams development through time, and see the original texts and even typefaces used for each portfolio.

The American Wilderness

Although first published in 1990, this was actually Adams last book, begun two years before his death at the suggestion of William Turnage, who was also the president of the Wilderness Society. His introduction, as well as the Adams quotes (printed on a paper stock different from the reproductions), focus on Adams important role in conservation. Of all the Adams books, this one is the largest in size (14×18 inches), which together with very high production values, definitively help convey the power and majesty of the photographs, mostly grand, dramatic landscapes made in National Parks. For this reason, and also for the quotes from the master, this book would be my first choice if you own only one Ansel Adams book.

Our National Parks *

In the 1940s, Adams received a National Park Service commission, and then a Guggenheim Fellowship to photograph the National Parks. If contemporary nature photographers are envious, they should remember that Adams was a nature photography pioneer, and nobody has rivaled him in his sustained practical efforts to support the National Parks. Witness the writings in this book which, besides reprints of the introduction to former books such as the seminal and rare “My camera in the National Parks”, include letters and memoranda to presidents and other major political figures. This book is part of a economical, softcover small format series which also includes Yosemite, and The Grand Canyon and the Southwest.

Yosemite and the High Sierra *

Ansel Adams is naturally associated with Yosemite. Since his first visit of the park at the age of fourteen, he would return every year throughout his life. It was there that he became a photographer, and made more photographs there than at any other place. He and his wife Virginia operated a gallery that continues to this day – the only one of its kind located inside a national park. Unsurprisingly, his best selling book was Yosemite and the Range of Light (1979). The first New York Graphic Society edition was a large book of 12×15 inches with more than 100 images which can be found at a bargain price on the used market. Its current successor is a medium-sized, more reasonably priced hardcover book, featuring 70 popular images. Following a somewhat predictable format, there are the Szarkowski introduction, Adams quotes, and selected writings consisting of introductions to older books from the same region from which images for this book were selected. Photographs of the Southwest complements this volume in a similar format.

California *

I was a bit hesitant to include this book because it is a bit of an oddity amongst the others surveyed here. It is more about its subject than Adams photography. As several books are already devoted to the Sierra Nevada landscapes, this one does a good job of surveying many other places in Adams home state, in the process including many lesser known images – architecture and portraits as well. Instead of writings about Adams, you get writings about California by famous authors. I am not fond of the design, which makes the book look more like a travel book than an art book. Unlike in other books, the writings are not clearly separated from the reproductions (which are of very good quality). The choice of a vertical format does not work well because most images are horizontal. As a result, many images are reproduced too small (surrounded by white paper), or across the gutter – unlike in the other books.

Ansel Adams at 100

Published in celebration of the 100th anniversary of Ansel Adams in 2001, this slipcased book is lavishly produced, extremely well printed on tritone. As a subjective attempt to “identify that work on which Adams’ claim as an important modern artist must rest”, this book concentrates almost exclusively on nature photography. However, within this limited scope, if you are familiar with Adams, you will discover a new facet of his work. First, although I am not sure if a centennial book is the right place, there was an effort to select seldom seen photographs, balancing landscapes and closer views, rather than emphasizing classic images – the most well-known are still there. Second, Szarkowski, also the curator for the exhibit from which the book is derived, often selected earlier prints where Adams used softer renditions than in his later (more well known) prints. This is illustrated by two examples of variations in the printing of Aspens and Denali. The Szarkowski essay is more reticent, controversial – and interesting – than the introductions he wrote for other books. However, see a brilliant and very critical review by Kenneth Brower of both the book and exhibit – Szarkowski’s response strikes me as unusually weak. Even though the trim is quite large, with the idea that small prints are reproduced smaller and large prints larger, many of the vintage reproductions end up quite small in the book (as they were in the exhibit). There is a considerably less expensive paperback version, but it is much smaller, which only compounds the problem. The hardcover would be a good choice for a second Ansel Adams book.

Ansel Adams: 400 Photographs *

Published in 2007, this is a great value, as it presents the largest selection of Adams images to date in a single book, encompassing all sorts of subject matter, organized chronologically from 1916 to the 60s, with good reproductions. All of his major work is here, as well as some images I had never seen before. The book is part of a new series in a compact, thick, hardcover, landscape format, edited by Andrea Stillman, who wrote notes on some selected photos, as well as one-page introductions for each of the five periods that structure the book.

Ansel Adams in Color *

This is a revised and expended edition (137 plates) of a 1993 book of the same title about a less known aspect of Adams work. The book includes essay by John Schaefer about the color work of Adams, and selected writings by Adams himself about color photography, which are interesting for the thoughts about the medium. The format and dimensions are the same as “400 photographs”. Note, however, that the book doesn’t disclose that although he began to photograph in color soon after Kodachrome film was invented in the mid 1930s, Adams did not consider his color work to be important nor expressive. According to Alinder’s bio of Adams he even explicitly forbade any exploitation of his color work.

Ansel Adams in the National Parks

The third book in a format started with with “400 photographs”, it continues the goal of the series, presenting more images (225 plates, three times as many as “Our National Parks”) of Adams work in the National Parks than other previously published books. Besides essays by Woodward and Turnage about conservation photography, the notes by Andrea Stillman include a few outtakes for some iconic photos, of which I would have liked to see more.

Tenth Anniversary Update (2022)

Ansel Adams in Yosemite Valley: Celebrating the Park at 150

An oversized book (12×14″) issued in 2014 on the occasion of the 150th anniversary of the Yosemite Grant with 150 photographs edited and sequenced by Peter Galassi, former Chief Curator of Photography at The Museum of Modern Art, New York, whose introduction situates Adams’s photographs in the context of the history of photography in Yosemite.

Ansel Adams’ Yosemite: The Special Edition Prints

Prints made by Ansel Adams himself are expensive. So that visitors to Yosemite would have a chance to own an original print as a quality memento, in 1958 Adams selected six of his Yosemite images to be offered at affordable prices at his gallery in Yosemite Valley. The 8×10 prints would be made from the original negatives by an assistant and be printed in large batches. The collection turned out to be popular so that over the years Adams extended it to 30 images. Alan Ross, who contributes an essay in the book, has been printing the collection since 1975. Pete Souza’s qualification for writing the introduction is that his Obama: An Intimate Portrait is the best selling photography book in history.

Mike Mandel: Zone Eleven

The images are all by Ansel Adams, but his name doesn’t even appear on the cover. How is it possible? This is Mike Mandel’s book, in the vein of his and Larry Sultan’s groundbreaking Evidence (1977) where they gave a new meaning to found images from government agencies and tech corporations via curation and sequencing. Although William Turnage’s carefully crafted image of Ansel Adams as a photographer of iconic nature landscapes was instrumental to the financial success of his later years, Adams didn’t view himself that way. Mandel mined an archive of more than 50,000 images from Adams’s commercial and editorial assignments, resulting in an entirely unexpected view of his work. Ansel Adams’s Zone System ranged from Zone 0 (darkest black) to Zone 10 (brightest highlight).

Have I missed anything ? Which ones are your favorites ?

Part 1 of 5: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Mui Ne‘s reputation as resort is growing, but besides the beach, there is also an interesting mix of natural and cultural elements, found north of the resort area.

Despite development in the resort area, the fishing village (Lang Chai) hasn’t changed much. I found the fishing beach particularly lively and active in the morning, when boats return from sea with fresh catch.

More specific to the area, I followed the Fairy Spring, a shallow stream flowing through interesting red rock formations, until a nice waterfall.

However, I came to Mui Ne mostly for the sand dunes. One of the most iconic subjects in Vietnamese photography consists of women with conical hats walking on those dunes carrying the two typical Vietnamese baskets on the shoulder pole, an intriguing mix of human interest and nature setting.

Those images don’t happen by chance. All the images are staged using cooperative models. I normally don’t stage images, nor hire models. In particular, when traveling in third world countries, I always make sure not to “tip” any children for posing. This may sound harmless, but a tip can be a significant amount of money compared to what parents earn the hard way, which could incite kids (with approval from their family) to skip school. On the other hand, it’s fair to pay adults for modeling, as this is a legitimate occupation for some in the West.

As I’ve seen many of those images in Vietnamese calendars – they seem relatively absent from travel photographers portfolios, though, maybe because it’s not that easy to make arrangements – I thought it would be fun to try my hand at photograph them. With the help of my cousin, who has spent much time in Mui Ne, we found a woman in the evening. We made appointments with motorbike drivers to pick her and me a dawn. The Vietnamese photographers often have women wearing the elegant Ao Dai, but I thought it would be more natural for her to wear everyday clothes. Since I am not used to directing models, even though I speak Vietnamese, the session felt a bit awkward at the beginning, but after a while, both of us got used to the situation. This type of shooting requires a good coordination with the model, since after you’ve stepped somewhere, the patch of sand is marred by footprints, so you get only one chance before you have to find a few one, with the appropriate ripples, orientation, and background.

The dunes are formed by red sand. The variations in color that you are seeing are due to the changing light color (sunrise is warmer) and angle. I kept the session short, as it is tough work to walk up and down sand, and the temperature was quickly rising after sunrise, yet it produced a large variety of images. I’m showing here only a selection of horizontal images.

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More images of Mui Ne

Interested in photographing Vietnam ? Join me for a photo tour this fall.

In this post, I am sharing my favorite high-country hike in Yosemite. On that rugged, but short Yosemite backcountry loop, you’ll reach the Sierra Crest, high above timberline, only a few hours after leaving your car, and enjoy a few days of solitude from there. You will roam cross-country – which is surprisingly easy here because you are above timberline, camp next to rarely visited lakes, and experience some of the most spectacular and varied mountain terrain in the park, concluding with the ascent of an extremely scenic peak.

To undertake this loop obviously requires some backpacking experience, as well as the skill to navigate cross-country in some class 2 terrain. The best time of the year is normally mid-to late summer, as snow can be a problem early in the season (not this year, though !). Despite backcountry quotas, I easily obtained a permit at the Tuolumne Meadows Wilderness Center on the morning of my start, in August. The loop can be done in three days. I hiked at a leisurely pace in four days (three nights). As an instance of taking my time, I arrived at the spot in the first image on the first afternoon. After sleeping at Upper McCabe Lake I climbed back the next day there, as the light is better in the morning, then explored the ridge up until the point where it turned to class 4, before backtracking and resuming the journey.

(click on map for larger version)

Take California Highway 120 (Tioga Pass Road) to about 2 miles east of the east entrance of Yosemite National Park, turn to Saddlebag Lake Road on north side, drive to the end and park at the Saddlebag Lake resort (10060 feet). From there go to the NW end of the lake, by hiking on either shore, or by a boat taxi, – which saves you 1.5 miles (every 1/2 hour, 7am-5pm).

Follow a trail heading towards Steelhead Lake skirting it on its East shore. The trail climbs and peters near the remains of the Hess mine, where a century ago miners toiled not too successfully for silver. For the next few days you’ll wander cross-country, and will share the mountains with only a few other hikers. Zig zag the steep slope, and soon you’ll straddle the Sierra crest, above 11,000 feet, with great views of North Peak and the enchanting Twenty Lakes Basin.

The other side consists of steep cliffs, but north of them, you’ll find a gully system that leads down to Upper McCabe Lake. At sunset, North Peak reflects beautifully in the lake.

Go around the lake clockwise. From its south shore, before reaching a small peninsula, you’ll see a pass between Sheep Peak and North Peak. Scramble up the talus and snowfields, then descend the gently slopping valley on the other side of the pass.

You’ll soon reach narrow Roosevelt Lake. Follow the east shore, then continue south.

After passing verdant meadows and clear streams, for the first time since the start of the trip, you’ll be passing below timberline and hiking in the forest. Track a contour line to reach Lower Young Lake, where you re-encounter people (I had met a single party around Upper McCabe Lake, and also Roosevelt Lake) as well as an established trail.

Follow it up to Upper Young Lake, after which it turns into an unmaintained climber’s trail. Continue up as you make your way back to the alpine world, arriving at the south slope of Mount Conness, passing on your way a high-altitude meadow doted with tarns.

Leave your backpack at the crest near the pass, and follow the class 2 trail to the summit (12,590 ft), first ascending a broad slope, then once on the plateau, following a thin ridge with a few exposed passages.

The highest peak in Sierra Nevada north of Tioga Pass Road, Mount Conness offers wonderful views of the high country granite domes, extending to Half-Dome, as well as a glimpse of the Northern Yosemite.

Back at the pass, descend steep slopes on the East side. The inclination is about 30 degrees and the slope is north facing, so in early season snow climbing gear (ice axe and/or crampons) may be useful, especially early in the day. Then follow the main drainage. When you reach the Carnegie Institute Experimental Station, you’ll see an established trail. You can either follow it to the Sawmill campground and then walk a mile up to road, or take a more direct off-trail shortcut to your car.

I planned this itinerary by just looking at a topo map, then confirming its feasibility at the wilderness center when I picked up the permit. Once you begin to venture out of the beaten path, you can create many itineraries as beautiful as this one. The possibilities in Yosemite are endless. Please share your favorite finds !

Part 6 of 6: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Check out my book: Spectacular Yosemite