Best of 2013

Here it is almost February and I am finally getting around to posting my version of the ubiquitous "Best of 2013" post. I hope I don't lose what little Internet credibility I have by being so late. Before we get started with the images, it is important to know that these aren't my best photos of 2013. Yes, the title of this post is a lie.

I haven't edited a high enough percentage of photos from 2013 to have any idea what my best actually are, and I never will. So then, these must be the best photos I've processed in 2013, right? Nope! Many of my favorites aren't included here.

I decided to try something different: narrowing my selection to only abstracts and plants. There are no clouds or skies in any of these photos. Nothing that ties any photo to a specific region or location. None were taken with a wide angle lens (the widest focal length was 44mm, the rest were taken with a 70-200mm zoom, and a 100mm macro lens). There is not a single foreground in the group.

In the future I may post a Part II or even a Part III that includes other types of photos (such as intimates and grand scenic landscapes).

The photos are listed chronologically in order of capture. Click on an image to open the series in a lightbox.

Winter in Yellowstone

Note: For more photographs of Yellowstone from this trip, please check out my new Yellowstone gallery.

No one accidentally ends up in Yellowstone. To get to Yellowstone, you have to want to get to Yellowstone.

Despite its remoteness, it is one of the most visited national parks in the US with almost 3.5 million visitors a year, only trailing the Smokies, the Grand Canyon, and Yosemite. For every resident of Wyoming, there are almost six visitors to Yellowstone National Park each year. They all go out of their way to visit the world's first national park, but there is a small problem: they almost all go at the same time.

Winter Sunset in the Lamar Valley

Over 80% of the parks visitors visit during June, July, and August. The park is beautiful during these three months, with lush vegetation, swelling rivers, and elk and bison calves running around. While it is always possible to get away from the crowds in more remote areas, some of the more interesting highlights, like the Upper, Midway, and Lower Geyser basins or the Mammoth Terraces are packed during these summer months.

From the Heavens

The remedy is simple: Go when it's less crowded. Late September and early October offer the best opportunities for seeing the entire park easily when there are less people (with the chance of catching the first snowfall of the year and elk in rut), and winter offers the best opportunity to enjoy solitude (less than 5% of the annual visitors visit during winter months).

The benefits of visiting in winter extend beyond solitude; the entire park has a completely different character. For photographers, scenes that are normally too complex are greatly simplified with snow (boardwalks are often covered by snow and steam hides other non-natural artifacts). The geothermal features of the park produce copious amounts of steam because of the low air temperature, often frosting nearby vegetation.

The struggle for survival of the parks' animals is even more evident as they have to work tirelessly to forage for vegetation buried in snow (not all of them make it, much to the delight of the wolves who are often responsible for their demise and to the coyotes, ravens, and other scavengers who clean up where the wolves leave off). Distant wildlife is easier to spot as well, standing in stark contrast to the snow rather than blending in with the similarly colored landscape.

Travertine Terrace

Yellowstone accessibility in winter is however severely limited. All of the park's interior is closed to vehicle traffic. The Mammoth Terraces and Lamar Valley to Cooke City (both accessed through the north entrance) are the only roads plowed and drivable during winter.

To access the interior, one must purchase a roundtrip ticket for a snow coach or go on a licensed snowmobile tour operating out of the parks' major entrances: West Yellowstone in the west, Gardiner/Mammoth in the north, and the south entrance (which is about an hour north of Jackson, WY on the north side of Grand Teton National Park). The snow coaches and snowmobiles are expensive and slow, though the snow coach operators are extremely knowledgeable about the park. The snow coaches also have some scheduled stops along the way (we made stops at Gibbon Falls, Firehole Canyon Drive, and Fountain Paint Pots) - though the stops are usually too short for one to produce any photographs without feeling rushed.

Emergence, Castle Geyser

Hotel/motel-like accommodations are open during winter at Old Faithful, smack in the middle of the Upper Geyser Basin, which is within walking (or snowshoeing or cross-country-skiing) distance of many of the parks' best geothermal features. There is a lot of walking involved, up to 4-5 miles roundtrip for some features, but it never seems that long as there is always interesting scenery along the way (and you are almost guaranteed to see some random geyser go off while walking around). Any area that cannot be accessed by foot must again be accessed by a licensed snow coach or snowmobile operator - often at considerable expense - for day trips that are not always suitable for photography. Food options are also limited, there are two restaurants at Old Faithful - neither of them are great (but only one of them expensive). A limited variety of snacks and drinks are available for purchase in the gift shop.

After Life

The other consideration of a winter visit are the cold temperatures. Temperatures below freezing are to be expected, and temperatures below 0 Fahrenheit (-17 Celsius) are not uncommon. The topic of winter clothing could take up another blog post by itself, but in general having multiple layers (a synthetic base layer, thermal layers such as fleece and down or both, and an external wind and water-proof layer) is critical (avoid cotton!). Along with the layered clothing, you should bring a warm wool or fleece hat, gloves, wool socks, and insulated (with at least 400g of insulation) winter boots. Micro-spikes and snowshoes are also very useful (snowshoes may be rented but the hours aren't conducive to sunrise and sunset photography).

Cold temperatures necessitate special care with your camera gear as well. Never bring your freezing cold camera or lenses into a warm hotel room without leaving it in the camera bag or a ziplock bag, otherwise interior condensation will result leaving you, even if temporarily, without a working camera. Tripods that have any moisture in them can freeze shut, so I would recommend extended them while inside and letting them dry out before taking back outside (alternately, you can always leave the legs extended, it's more cumbersome to walk this way, but it's always possible to get a lower camera position from an extended tripod, but not always possible to extend your tripod if it's frozen shut!).

Chromatic Pool

For our visit in winter, we spent three nights at Mammoth/Gardiner (arriving the first night), exploring the Mammoth Terraces and the Lamar Valley during the day. We took a snow coach from Mammoth to Old Faithful and stayed at the Snow Lodge at Old Faithful for four nights, exploring the Upper Geyser Basin, and then returned to our car at Mammoth via snow coach and drove home. An alternate itinerary, and one we will probably do in the future, is substituting Mammoth and the Lamar Valley for the Tetons (which are likewise stunning in the winter), and approaching Old Faithful from the south via snow coach.

Frosted Trees

The more complex logistics and lack of mobility make a winter trip to Yellowstone difficult, but the payoff is more than worth any difficulty. The amount of diverse and unique natural landscapes and wildlife in Yellowstone make it a great destination for nature photographers any time of year, but coupled with snow, steam, and frost, along with much lower visitation, a winter trip is especially fruitful.

The Joy of Macro Photography

I like to say that there is no such thing as bad light, there are only bad photographers. That statement is usually true but with a macro lens, it's always true. Whether photographing in bright sun or overcast skies, there are always subjects worth photographing with a macro lens.Macro photography also allows you to break the formula so common in typical wide angle landscapes (strong or leading foreground element, dominant background element, and dramatic or colorful skies), and focus on more abstract features like colors, shapes, patterns, and textures. While the compositions may not be as obvious, to me they are usually more personal and more creative, and they can also help develop your eye for all types of natural photography, including wide angle landscapes, intimates, and abstracts.

One other major benefit of macro photography is that there are subjects everywhere, from your backyard, to flowers and foliage in neighborhood parks or trails and wilderness. You do not need to plan an expensive trip to find worthy macro subjects, and while an area might only yield one good wide angle landscape photograph, it could easily yield a dozen good macros.

For example, I took the following photographs on a single visit to the Denver Botanic Gardens, on a hot summer day without any clouds (usually not good conditions for landscapes but perfect for macros!).

SmugMug Interview

I recently did an interview with SmugMug talking about my decision to quit my job two years ago and focus exclusively on travel and photography (and not so much, as is apparent, on this blog). So, please read it if you're interested in what I've been up to the last two years: http://news.smugmug.com/2013/06/07/quit-your-job-and-run-for-the-hills-ron-coscorrosa-speaks-out/

2012 - Year in Review (Sort Of)

I haven't written a blog post in over a year - and it's not because I have nothing to say (I do!), but I have been incredibly busy traveling, photographing, and moving from Seattle to Denver to move in with my girlfriend (and gifted nature photographer) Sarah Marino. All great things and all much more important than keeping this dark lonely hole of the Internet universe partially illuminated. Also, and this is the real reason: I'm lazy.So instead of writing about all of the great things that have happened in the last twelve months I'll just briefly recap the year by showing some of my favorite photos that I have processed to date.

Many people are doing their "12 favorites of 2012", so in order to be different, and because I can't edit photos, I'm going to show my 20 favorites of 2012 (20 is in 2012 too, damn it!).

The photos are arranged in chronological order with the location above each photo.

Cannon Beach, Oregon

Mono Lake, Mono County, California

Ibex Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California

Ibex Dunes, Death Valley National Park, California

Marlboro Point, Canyonlands National Park, Utah

Roaring Fork, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, Tennessee

Botany Bay, South Carolina

Jökulsárlón Beach, Iceland

Selfoss Waterfall, Iceland

Toroweap, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

Yakima Peak, Mount Rainier National Park, Washington

Paradise, Mt. Rainier National Park, Washington

Alvord Playa, Harney County, Oregon

Tonquin Valley, Jasper National Park, Alberta, Canada

Groton State Forest, Vermont

Oneida Falls, Ricketts Glen State Park, Pennsylvania

White Pocket, Coyote Buttes South, Arizona

Virgin River Narrows, Zion National Park, Utah

The Racetrack, Death Valley National Park, California

Lower Antelope Slot Canyon, Page, Arizona

All You Keep is the Getting There

It's only the second afternoon of my trip and already I have no idea where the hell I am. I'm sure it won't be the last time. I crawl out of the sleeping bag in the back of my car, peek out of the window, and eventually I remember: West Yellowstone!

The previous night I watched Great Fountain Geyser erupt at 11 PM, all by myself, lit only by the light of the stars. It was the sound, not the sight, that alerted me to its presence, and I really hoped that I was outside the spray zone, and I was (but it was in mine, Yellowstone indeed!). The night before that I was racing from Seattle to make sunrise, and did, with five minutes to spare and no speeding tickets.

I'm in Yellowstone, the sixth time in two years, for a single purpose: to photograph fall colors in Colorado. While there aren't a lot of Colorado fall colors in Wyoming (even in peak years) it's only a few hours from Yellowstone to Colorado, and a natural stopping point on the way from Seattle.

All my non-photographer friends told me I should go to New England for fall colors. I told them New England can suck it, I'm going to Colorado. Where in Colorado? I didn't know, but I knew John Denver wasn't full of shit and was going to prove him right.

The colors are late this year, but I don't really care when they peak, I just want to be there when they do. It should only take a few weeks. I have all the time in the world, and while that's still not enough, it's as close as I'm going to get.

Now it's eight weeks and 12,000 miles later and I'm back at home with a handful of photos, a head full of memories and wondering what the hell just happened. I'm hoping it won't be the last time.

From that foggy afternoon in Yellowstone until my return home, I would visit Grand Teton NP, Rocky Mountain NP, Western Colorado (Aspen, Ridgway, Crested Butte, Telluride, and points in between), Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP, Great Sand Dunes NP, Mesa Verde NP, Aztec Ruins National Monument, Shiprock in New Mexico, The Bisti Badlands Wilderness, White Sands National Monument, Saguaro NP and the Sonoran Desert near Tuscon, Red Rock country in Sedona, Grand Canyon NP (south rim), Havasu Falls, Zion NP, Bryce Canyon NP, Arches NP, Canyonlands NP, House on Fire and Fallen Roof ruins near Cedar Mesa, Monument Valley in Arizona, Lower and Upper Antelope slot canyons near Page, Horseshoe Bend, slot canyons near Escalante (Utah), Death Valley, and the Columbia River Gorge.

I said my main goal was to photograph the fall colors in Colorado. That's actually not true. My main goal was to be flexible and go wherever I felt like going. Colorado was the start, but not the end. There is no end.

I drove on pavement, gravel, dirt, sand (red, brown, and white gypsum), snow, ice, and mud. Well I didn't actually drive on mud, but I slid on it pretty damn good. I didn't get stuck once and I'm going to attribute that to skill even though luck deserves all the credit.

I only got lost when following my GPS.

I was 12,000 feet above sea level in Colorado and almost 300 feet below it in California. I experienced temperatures ranging from 0F to 105F, and dressed so that I would be uncomfortable in any temperature.

I slept in motels (a few nights), a tent (many nights), and my car (most nights). I had no reservations, anywhere.

I showered. Rarely.

I had cold food and hot food but mostly bad food. Except for the free food, free food is always good food.

I met many old friends, made a few new ones, and didn't lose any that I'm aware of.

I had weeks of complete solitude and peace and weeks with friends, laughter, and a different kind of peace.

I made a few jokes, some happened to be funny, most happened to be vulgar.

I saw uncountable crimes against photography and only a few of them were mine.

I had one lens spontaneously break, at Havasu Falls, ten miles down canyon. I had one tripod break. Somewhere. I fucking hate tripods. All of them.

I had bison surround my car when I was 200 feet away from it.

I herded cows with my car, more than once, and I also heard cows in the act, more than once.

I saw geysers, mountains, rivers, sand dunes, ruins, sandstone (rocks, arches, canyons, slot canyons, and hoodoos), forests of aspen and saguaro, salt flats, playas, waterfalls, the milky way, a couple full moons, and not a single ocean. I saw beauty both spectacular and subtle and it was everywhere.

But mostly I realized that experiences are the only possessions worth keeping and time the only price to pay.

Townes Van Zandt said that living on the road will keep you free and clean. He was only half right, but got the part that matters.

There's More Pretty Girls Than One

There are only three months left in the year and I haven't been anywhere, or rather I've been to the same everywhere, which may as well be nowhere. There's a point in here somewhere. The point is (I think) that I've been negligent in visiting new places.

There's always a delicate balance between depth and breadth.

The best images almost always come from places I know well, not just because I'm maximizing my chances of having good light with repeated visits (but that certainly helps), but because there are no distractions. I know where things are. I know how to get there and how long it will take. I know what types of shots are possible for the given conditions.

The problem, of course, is that I think I know more than I actually do. I settle into a pattern. I stop being creative and start being reflexive. Reverence loses ground to disappointment. With experience it becomes easier to spot this trend happening and, if I'm lucky, to stop it. But the threat is always there and will sneak up on me if I'm not paying attention.

Which is why it's important to visit new places. To be overwhelmed and confused and in awe. To not know where to start or what to do. To lose any preconceived notions. To be inspired. To try and tame the chaos and also to fail so that you can get it right the next time, and most importantly, to piss off the locals by getting epic light on your first visit!

So I'm going to hit the road. I'll be visiting some places I know well (Yellowstone and Grand Teton), some places I only know superficially (Arizona and Utah) and some places I don't know at all (Colorado and New Mexico). I'll be trading the volcanoes in the Cascades for ragged peaks of the Rockies; the autumn vine maples, mountain ash, and huckleberries for the gold and crimson aspens; evergreens for sagebrush; wet beaches and waterfalls for the desert and sand dunes, and brown dirt for, well, red dirt.

Lessons I've learned in my familiar territories will still be applicable to these new places. The inspiration I get from these new places will allow me to see the old places in a new way.

There's really nothing to lose (except sleep, money, and gas - but I was going to lose those anyway). I'll return armed with memories, experiences, a huge backlog of photos that will take forever to process, and, if I'm lucky, no speeding tickets that I can't bribe my way out of.