A Photographer on Vacation – Part 5: Canyonlands National Park

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[This is the fifth installment of a travelogue from our recent trip to national parks and one state park in Utah and Colorado. You can find the first installment here, the second installment here, the third installment here, and the fourth installment here.]

I will confess I was not ready for Canyonlands National Park. In all my research for our trip, Canyonlands was the park I learned the least about. I learned that it was massive and divided into four districts, only one of which – Island in the Sky – was generally accessible to casual tourists like ourselves. But, nothing I read prepared me for the awesome experience we would have as we surveyed Canyonlands from its many overlooks.

Canyonlands is huge, covering 337,598 acres, or about 527 square miles. It is the largest of the National Parks in Utah – more than twice the size of Zion National Park. The park is divided into districts: Island in the Sky, a high mesa with spectacular views; the Needles, a less accessible area of spires and hiking trails; the Maze, an even more remote area that is home to a labyrinth of deep canyons; and the Rivers, the corridors created by the Green and Colorado Rivers, whose confluence is in the park.

The Island in the Sky District is a broad and level mesa situated about 6,000 feet above sea level in the northern section of the park. The District reaches out over canyons built by the Colorado and Green rivers. From the many viewpoints your look down 1,200 feet at the White Rim, a sandstone bench, and to the canyons and the rivers, which are another 1,000 feet below the White Rim.

The Grand Canyon is nearly twice as deep on average than Canyonlands, 4,000 feet compared to 2,500 feet. But Canyonlands is much wider. Canyonlands ranges from 21 to nearly 30 miles wide from rim to rim, while the Grand Canyon averages between 6 and 10 miles wide.

After stopping at the Island in the Sky Visitor Center, we drove to Grand View Point, the southern terminus of the District’s main road. To the south, we could see a thunderstorm in the distance, as canyons stretched as far as we could see.

To the northwest, sun broke through the clouds.

Utah Junipers, twisted by the wind, struggled to exist on the edge of the canyon.

The Colorado and Green Rivers sculpted the canyons into the Colorado Plateau beginning 4 to 6 million years ago. At the Green River Overlook, we got a view of the Green River at work.

We hiked up to the rim of a geologic feature called Upheaval Dome. The Dome is a crater three miles wide from rim to rim. Here is an aerial view of Upheaval Dome from Google Earth.

For a time it was debated whether the dome was created by erosion or by a meteor. No pieces of a meteor have ever been found in the crater, but in 2008 geologists found strained, annealed quartz in the crater. That type of rock only forms under extreme explosive pressure, giving credence to the meteor hypothesis.

This was our view looking down into the crater.

The image below looks to the east from the rim of the Dome.

Hiking down from the rim, we came across the gnarly remains of a Utah Juniper. So, of course, I had to take a photo.

Following a picnic lunch, we moved on to the next to last overlook we would visit, the Candlestick Tower Overlook. Candlestick Tower is a 450 foot butte.

At the overlook, I came across another Utah Juniper, its roots reaching out for a purchase in the rocky ground.

Our final stop, was the Shafer Trail Viewpoint. From this location, people can descend into the canyon on foot or four-wheel drive vehicles.

Unlike Bryce Canyon, Capitol Reef, and Arches, Canyonlands was not a national monument before it became a national park. While the United States Geological Survey and the National Parks Service recommended that the area be named part of a national monument in the 1930s – something a president can do with the stroke of a pen – local opposition and the start of World War II worked against support for the recommendation.

Beginning in the late 1950s, however, Bates Wilson, the administrator of Arches National Monument, began advocating for Canyonland’s national park status. He led government officials on camping trips into Canyonlands. One of those officials was Stewart Udall, Secretary of the Interior in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations. Udall was persuaded by Wilson’s “dutch oven diplomacy” and lobbied Congress for the proposed park. On September 12, 1964, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the legislation creating Canyonlands National Park, seven years before Richard Nixon signed legislation granting Arches National Monument national park status.

Canyonlands is vast and beautiful. It was the park for which I had the least expectations, but which impressed me beyond my expectations. Following our day at Canyonlands, we headed back to Moab for one more night before moving on to Mesa Verde National Park in southwest Colorado.

A Photographer on Vacation – Part 4: Arches National Park

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[This is the fourth installment of a travelogue from our recent trip to national parks and one state park in Utah and Colorado. Two more installments will follow. You can find the first installment here, the second installment here, and the third installment here.]

Arches National Park, just north of Moab, Utah, is a stunning landscape. It is home to over 2,000 natural arches, the highest density of natural stone arches in the world. In addition there are hundreds of rock peaks, massive rock fins, and giant balanced rocks. The park is the 44th largest national park, encompassing 76,519 acres or 119 square miles.

President Herbert Hoover issued a Presidential Proclamation establishing Arches as a national monument in April 1929. Franklin Roosevelt, in 1939, and Dwight Eisenhower, in 1960, expanded the size of the national monument. In November 1971, President Richard Nixon signed the legislation establishing Arches as a national park.

The morning we arrived at the park, we drove to the end of the park road to the Devil’s Garden Trailhead. Before getting there, we stopped to admire Skyline Arch, which is easily viewed from the camp road. In 1940, the opening of the arch roughly doubled in size when a large boulder suddenly fell out of the arch.

We began a hike to Landscape Arch at the Devil’s Garden Trailhead. The trail first passes between fins, relatively slender rock formations formed as water and ice erode the sandstone rock.

The trail to Landscape Arch has a short spur that leads to two other arches, Tunnel Arch and Pine Tree Arch.

Tunnel Arch sits high on a rock wall.

Pine Tree Arch is ground level.

At 306 feet, Landscape Arch is the largest arch in North America and one of the longest spans of any natural arch in the world. At its thinnest, the arch is only six feet in diameter. Large portions of the arch came crashing down in 1990, a reminder that these arches are constantly affected by the elements.

Just a few yards down the trail, one can catch a glimpse of Partition Arch, with its two-window opening.

After getting off the trail, our next stop was the Wolfe Ranch. In 1898, 69 year old John Wesley Wolfe, a Civil War veteran, left his wife and three of their children in Ohio and headed west to find a drier climate. He took with him his oldest son, Fred. Together they established the Bar DX Ranch in what is now Arches National Park. At one point, their ranch had more than 1,000 head of cattle.

In 1906, John Wolfe’s daughter and her husband came to live with him. His daughter was reportedly appalled by the conditions in which John and Fred lived. She demanded that they build a cabin with a floor and windows. That cabin still stands in the park. The ranch was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1975.

Of course, Wolfe and his family were not the first to live here. Not far from the cabin is a wall of petroglyphs believed to have been created by nomadic Shoshonean Ute and Paiute Indians sometime in the 1600s or later. The evidence for this is in the petroglyphs themselves, which show people riding horses. Horses had been native to North America, but went extinct 10,000 to 12,000 years before the Spanish reintroduced them in the 17th century.

The parking lot for the Wolfe Ranch also serves as the trailhead for trail that leads to Delicate Arch, the symbol of Arches National Park. The Delicate Arch trail is 3.2 miles long and rated as being of “moderate” difficulty. With temperatures in the 90s, we elected to drive a mile farther down the road from the Wolfe Ranch to Lower Delicate Arch Viewpoint. From there, we could see the arch one mile away.

Delicate Arch is the largest freestanding arch in the park. The opening at the base measures 32 feet and is 48 feet high.

While we had packed a picnic lunch, by the time we got to the Delicate Arch Viewpoint, we needed some relief from the heat of the high desert. We went back to our hotel room in Moab and then returned to the park later in the day.

Returning to the park, we decided to hike the Park Avenue Trail. The trail descends through a canyon. After the initial 50 feet or so, the trail becomes rather indistinct and one must follow rock cairns, although it is clear the direction you want to go is down the canyon.

While AllTrails rates the trail as “easy,” we found that to be generous. We eventually turned back to the trailhead. Nonetheless, being at the bottom of the canyon was awesome. The various rock forms in the canyon have been given names. One of the rock panels on the right in the photo above is known as “Queen Victoria Rock.” I’ll let you figure out which one, because I don’t see it.

The rocks in the photo below have names that are easier to see. At the top left is “Queen Nefertiti” and at the bottom right is “Sausage Rock,” sometimes called the “corn dog.”

On the floor of the canyon, there are Utah Junipers, a tree that frequently caught my attention. Of course, there are so few trees in the high desert, it is hard to miss them. The junipers are 10 to 30 feet tall and often have a twisted, gnarly trunk shaped by fierce winds.

Even when they have died, I found their twisted bodies picturesque.

After abandoning the Park Avenue trail, we headed deeper into the park to see Balanced Rock. Our trip took us past the Tower of Babel and …

the Three Gossips.

Balanced Rock is a massive boulder made of Entrada sandstone that sits atop a pedestal made of Dewey Bridge mudstone. The whole structure is 128 feeet tall. Entrada Sandstone is mostly fine-grained, smooth, and resistant sand. Dewey Bridge is made of wavy mudrock, siltstone, and shale, that wears away much faster than Entrada sandstone.

The mudstone pedestal is slowly eroding away. Eventually, the 3,600 ton boulder will come tumbling down as happened to the Rock’s smaller sibling, “Chip-Off-the-Old-Block,” during the winter of 1975-76. To see a before an after of Chip on the National Park Service site, follow this link.

Leaving the park, we passed sand dunes that formed 180 million years ago. Over time, nature’s forces compressed the dunes, and calcium carbonate cemented them together.

That’s it for now. The next installment will take us to Canyonlands National Park.

A Photographer on Vacation – Part 3: Goblin Valley State Park

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[This is the third installment of a travelogue from our recent trip to national parks and one state park in Utah and Colorado. More installments will follow. You can find the first installment here and the second installment here.]

Halfway between the visitor center at Capitol Reef National Park and Moab, Utah, is Goblin Valley State Park, a park with an amazing landscape. Goblin Valley his home to thousands of hoodoos that are on average 8 to 15 feet tall.

The park encompasses nearly 1,000 acres of hoodoos. According to the Utah Geological Survey, the hoodoos of Goblin Valley “were formed through the gradual erosion of Entrada sandstone, which was deposited about 170 millions years ago when the area was situated next to an ancient sea.” Over the years, the sandstone was carved by the wind and water to create the unique hoodoo formations.

The hoodoos are in three valleys. We spent our time in the first valley, where there were plenty of hoodoos to explore. Goblin Valley has no established trails. Visitors are encouraged to wander among the hoodoos. But if you visit, bring plenty of water and sun screen. The sun is unrelenting and there is little shade. There is a covered picnic area and restrooms at the parking lot.

Visitors are also encouraged to bring a compass to help them find their way back to their car. We didn’t find that to be an issue. Looking to the west in Valley 1, we could always see White Horse Butte (5,760 feet). All we had to do was walk in the direction of the Butte to find the parking lot.

As we left the Valley, we stopped to take a photo of the Three Sisters, three hoodoos that stand 80 feet tall.

Wandering around the “goblins” in the Valley was a blast. I have never experienced anything like it and would recommend it as a stop for anyone visiting the Mighty Five National Parks in Utah. Goblin Valley is in the middle of nowhere. The closest town is Hanksville, Utah, population 158. We chose to pass by Goblin Valley on our way from Capitol Reef to Moab, where we spent four nights. Using Moab as our base to explore Arches and Canyonlands National Parks, we squeezed in a daytrip to Goblin Valley and enjoyed it thoroughly.

A Photographer on Vacation – Part 2: Utah Scenic Byway 12 and Capitol Reef National Park

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[This is the second installment of a travelogue from our recent trip to national parks and one state park in Utah and Colorado. More installments will follow. You can find the first installment here.]

If I had any regrets about our recent trip, it would be that we did not plan enough time to enjoy this next segment of our journey. We traveled Utah’s Scenic Byway 12 from Bryce Canyon National Park to Capitol Reef National Park on our way to Moab, Utah. I had heard that the Byway was one of the most beautiful roads in the country, and after driving it, I would concur.

With an altitude ranging from 5,223 feet to 9,636 feet above sea level, the Byway passes 124 miles through a diverse, remote, and rugged landscape. Soon after leaving Bryce, we were climbing up, up, up through a canyon. We didn’t pull over while we were in the canyon, but we did so soon thereafter to embrace this view of Powell Point (elevation 10,188 feet) at the Blues Overlook. Powell Point is named for John Wesley Powell, who led expeditions to map this area in the 1880s.

Back on the road, we passed through the town of Escalante before hitting “the Hogsback.” The Hogsback is a stretch of road known for its hairpin curves that drop off drastically into deep canyons 800 to 1,000 feet below. It’s a beautiful stretch of road, but one where you keep both hands on the wheel and your attention on the road in front of you. As we got to the end of the Hogsback, we stopped at the Head of the Rocks Overlook. From the overlook, slickrock stretches as far as the eye can see.

Shortly after getting underway again, we stopped at the Kiva Koffeehouse, a unique structure built into the side of the Escalante River Canyon. You park on the roof of the Koffeehouse and walk down a set of stairs …

to a semi-circular dining room …

with a spectacular view of the canyon.

After passing through the Hogsback, Scenic Route 12 eventually begins to climb Boulder Mountain. The scenery changes from canyons to Aspen an pine groves. The road reaches the Larb Hollow Overlook at 9,200 feet. At the Overlook, we could see the Waterpocket Fold, a 100 mile-long fold in the earth’s crust where the earth has been pushed up. In this photograph, you see the fold running along the base of the mountains in the background.

The Waterpocket Fold is the unique feature of our next stop, Capitol Reef National Park. From the overlook, the road descends back to the desert and ends at the park, near Torrey, Utah.

President Franklin Roosevelt designated Capitol Reef a national monument in 1937. In 1971, President Richard Nixon signed the legislation that made it a national park.

With its high cliffs and red rock, Capitol Reef is stunningly beautiful.

The Waterpocket Fold reveals layers in geologic time.

The area that encompasses Capitol Reef was home to nomadic people for thousands of years. From 300 CE to 1300 CE, the area was home to the Fremont Culture. They were indigenous farmers who settled along the Fremont River and grew corn, beans, and squash. They left behind petroglyphs and pictographs.

In the 1870s, Mormon pioneers settled along the Fremont River in an area of Capitol Reef they called Fruita. In 1880, Nels Johnson moved into Fruita and planted the first orchards. Orchards of apples, apricots, cherries, peaches, pears, and plums provided food and income to residents of the Fremont River Valley into the 1960s. When the national park was established, the Park Service began managing the orchards, which remain productive to this day.

We picked apples in one of the orchards and had a picnic lunch in Fruita before heading on our way to Moab, Utah.

If I were to do it again, I would have planned more time to spend on the Scenic Byway and at Capitol Reef National Park. Both deserved more attention than we could pay them as we passed through on our way from Bryce to Moab.

A Photographer on Vacation. First stop – Bryce Canyon National Park

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[This is the first installment of a series of posts of photographs from a recent trip out west. Additional posts will follow.]

We just returned from a two week trip through Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico. Traveling with my wife of 50 years, I was mindful that the purpose of the trip was not photography, although we saw lots of beautiful country and between us took lots of photos. I am reminded of the poem “The Vacation,” by Wendell Berry. It begins, “Once there was a man who filmed his vacation.” It recounts the story of a photographer who flew down the river in a boat, his video camera to his eye. “He showed his vacation to his camera, which pictured it, preserving it forever.” When the trip was over, he could show his vacation at the flip of the switch, “But he would not be in it. He would never be in it.” I was bound to be in my vacation and not let photography get in the way of enjoying the experience with my wife. Oh yes, I took photos. But I took photos like a tourist rather than like a photographer. (There’s a difference.)

After flying to Las Vegas and picking up a rental car, we drove to Bryce Canyon National Park in Utah. President Warren G. Harding proclaimed Bryce Canyon a national monument on June 8, 1923. One year later, Congress passed legislation to establish Bryce Canyon as a National Park. The park officially became a national park in February 1928.

Bryce is actually not a canyon. It is an amphitheater. The difference? A canyon is a deep valley with steeps sides usually carved by a flowing river. A natural amphitheater is a wide, bowl-shaped depression formed by erosion, rain, and ice. In Bryce Canyon, that erosion has created the largest collection of hoodoos in the world.

We arrived in the early evening and, after a quick dinner, went to Sunset Point to watch the sun go down. We arrived too late to see the sun hitting the hoodoos. Nonetheless, even in shadows the view was awesome.

In my photography, I am drawn to the roots and fallen trees. So this tree, perched on the precipice of the amphitheater caught my attention, of course.

Situated at 8,000 feet and far from any major city, Bryce Canyon is a Gold Tier International Dark Sky Park. The day we arrived there was a new moon and an opportunity to see the core of the Milky way, the center of our universe. This was the only photograph I planned, researching the location and the method of capturing a photograph of our galaxy.

The next morning, we were up early and on the rim of the amphitheater to catch an amazing sunrise.

In this next photograph, Navajo Mountain, 82 miles from the edge of the amphitheater, glows in the predawn light.

Closer by, Powell Point also glows.

As the sun crested the horizon, the hoodoos and walls of the amphitheater came alive.

In this next photograph, a hoodoo known as “Thor’s Hammer” catches the morning light.

The main road in the park leads 18 miles to Rainbow Point, elevation 9,115 feet. There, we hiked on the Bristlecone Trail, which promised bristlecone pine trees at the halfway point. Bristlecone pines are among the oldest organisms in the world. The oldest bristlecone tree is estimated to be over 4,700 years old. With my taste for gnarly trees and roots, I was looking forward to actually seeing a bristlecone pine for the first time. Let’s just say, the trees at the halfway point didn’t live up to my expectations.

As the trail circled back to Rainbow Point, we could see a storm rolling through the park in the distance.

Driving back along the main road, the dark sky made for dramatic views.

Of course, the park itself has plenty of dramatic views, like this arch along side the main road.

On our last morning at Bryce, we hiked the Mossy Creek Trail before heading on our way. The trail begins in the bottom of an amphitheater, so it required no huffing and puffing to ascend. It was a different experience to look up at the walls of the amphitheater rather than down from the rim.

The trail leads to a small waterfall

and, not surprisingly given its name, a cave (if that’s what you want to call it).

For me, a bonus along the trail was this tree, with its outstretched roots.

Once done with the Mossy Creek Trail, we headed north on Scenic Route 12, which is touted as one of the most beautiful roads in the country. I became a believer. But that is for the next installment. If you have made it this far, thank you for taking the time to look at my photographs. I tried to pare them down, but I am sure there are too many. Thank you for indulging me.

Upcoming Lectures

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This fall, I will be presenting lectures at Kellogg Community College and Hope College.

On Tuesday, October 27, I will be presenting Is Photography Dead? on the main campus of Kellogg Community College in Battle Creek. The lecture will run from 5:30 to 7:30 pm. As photography moved out of the darkroom and into the computer, the ability to “doctor” an image or to create one using artificial intelligence has caused some to conclude that photography is dead. In this session, I will explore the impact of digital photography and the implications of generative artificial intelligence on our understanding of photographs. My aim is for participants to come away from the lecture as savvier consumers of photography in the digital age. Registration for the fall semester of KCC’s lifelong learning program has not yet opened but will be available at https://kellogg.edu/campus-community/lifelong/.

On Monday, November 9, I will be present On the Road: Photographing American in 1955, at Hope College’s Hope Academy of Senior Professionals (HASP). The lecture will run from 9:30 to 11:00 am. In 1955, two photographers – Robert Frank and Todd Webb – each were awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship to travel across America, Frank by car, Webb on foot and by skiff and bicycle. Frank’s photos were published in the classic book “The Americans,” which would influence a new aesthetic in photography, while Webb’s photos went virtually unseen until they were rediscovered in 2016. I’ll look back at both projects to see what they have to tell us about photography and America in the mid-fifties. As with KCC, registration for the fall semester has yet to open. When it does, you can find the fall catalog and register at https://hope.edu/offices/hope-academy-senior-professionals/courses-registration.html

Pieces of a Puzzle

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This past Saturday, I rose early and began driving to the Leelanau Peninsula in time to get there before dawn. The weather forecast called for several hours of fog and I saw lots of it on my drive. But as I got to the peninsula, the fog seemed always to be one step ahead of me. I caught up with it at Bass Lake, but when I stepped out of my car, I was swarmed with hundreds of mosquitos. I had bug spray, but I felt outgunned. So I retreated to my car and continued my drive north. In the end, I caught up with the tail end of the fog at Port Oneida and Sunset Shores.

I made a number of images. They are pretty good, but none of them stands on its own. Nor do they tell a story when viewed together. But each of them could be a piece of a puzzle in a future story. So I have processed and cataloged them hoping that I can use them in some future posts. I decided, though, to share them here, with a brief explanation of why they caught my eye.

The beach at Sunset Shores was still engulfed in fog when I arrived. I have photographed here for a couple of years. Unlike other beaches I have visited in the park, the beach at Sunset Shores has some erratic stones that add interest. I have photographed the beach in different seasons and at different times of the day and night. These images add to a collection of photographs that may sometime become a study.

When I returned to my car, this tree stood out to me. The hints of magenta and yellow in the tree’s smooth bark were such a contrast to the deep, rich greens in the forest. How I would ever use this photo is not clear to me, but the contrast between this tree and the others in the forest compelled me to photograph it.

The barn on the Dechow Farm is known to anyone who drives though Port Oneida on M-22. There’s nothing really special about this barn itself. But, the way the low-lying clouds shrouded the hill behind the barn got me to pull off the road and take a photo.

Fog rose behind the trees in the field across the road from the Dechow Barn. The sun was breaking into the field from the east. The scene was serene, but by the time I set up my tripod and leveled my camera, the magic beams of light began to be snuffed out by the clouds. The light would have been the star of the photo had it lingered. Instead, the star of the photo is the feeling of calm as the fog softens the view.

I have taken many photos of the outbuildings on the Carsten Burfiend farm, but never from this angle. The fog totally obscured the hill in the distance. The image by itself has a hard time standing on its own, but it may contribute to some future story.

The farms at Port Oneida no longer operate. They were acquired by the National Park Service over 50 years ago. The buildings now stand witness to a past community that eked out a hard living farming the sandy soil. The buildings are not, however, the only witnesses. If you look closely, you can find other signs of the past. Among those signs are fence posts that still stand, though the fences themselves are long gone.

A Foggy Memorial Day

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I woke up to dense fog today, so I grabbed my camera and headed out the door. Here’s some random photographs from my morning shoot. I took the first two in East Grand Rapids.

After shooting close to home, I drove 17 miles east to Lowell, Michigan, where I took photos of some of the King Milling Company’s silos. King Milling is a massive operation that I have enjoyed photographing for a number of years (see 2017 and 2020). The fog presented a opportunity for a new look.

Just north of Lowell, on the Flat River, is Fallasburg Village, which was founded in the 1830’s by John Wesley Fallass and his brother Silas. Fallasburg Village is designated as a “Historical District” with the National Register of Historic Places. The 100-foot long Fallasburg covered bridge was built in 1871.

John Wesley Fallas’s sons built this barn in 1896, on property given to them by their father.

Spring at Amon Park

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On Saturday, I took a hike at Amon Park, a 331 acre preserve six miles west of Grand Rapids, to photograph spring flowers. This time of year, the forest floor in parts of the park is covered with trillium and Virginia bluebells. Here are a few photos from my hike. (By the time I got to the bluebells, they were flooded with sunlight, so I did not photograph them.)

A Return Visit to the Birches at Houdek Dunes

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I visited the Houdek Dunes Natural Area in Leelanau County on Saturday. Spring has yet to really take hold. I saw little new growth anywhere. But that’s not why I went there. Houdek Dunes has a number of amazing birch trees, some of which are over 100 years old – unreal for a birch. For some reason, the birches at Houdek Dunes tend to live much longer than normal. Many of the trees have succumbed to old age and are lying on the ground. Those are the ones I came to see.

As I walk through our forests, more and more I am drawn to the downed trees. The fallen trees often have a sculptural character to them.

Throughout the preserve, decomposing birch trees lie on the ground, slowly merging into the earth. The sapwood and heartwood decay first, leaving the birch’s bark as a hollow witness to a tree that once stood tall.

The decompostion process is hastened by bugs, worms and fungi. I found this fungus on the end of a decaying log worthy of a photograph. I think it is called bitter oyster (panellus stipticus), but I can’t be sure of that. No matter, I found it beautiful.

This old tree is a favorite of mine. Whenever I visit Houdek Dunes, I make sure to pay my respects. How much longer before this tree succumbs to old age and begins the process of becoming soil?

You can see photos from my previous visits to Houdek Dunes here and here.