- Hide menu

Blog

Hyalite Reservoir is a small but gorgeous 206-acre lake located about 12 miles south of Bozeman Montana, 10.5 miles up Hyalite Canyon.

I cast a fly upon the waters of the South Fork and in no time at all had a writhing, two-pound rainbow tail dancing across an eddy as the fish tried for the fast water a short distance away. Ah, ha! I had heard the South Fork was a better fishery than the upper Snake, but had never bothered to try it. Now I was hooked.

While living in Lake Tahoe in August 1986, I read in Outdoor Photographer Magazine a feature about Fred Joy and his gallery. As with all featured artists Outdoor Photographer profiled the highlights of Fred’s portfolio and Fred’s stunning imagery of the Grand Tetons spilled out all over several pages

Whenever I surprise a mule deer doe or fawn, and alarmingly their heads pop out of the forage like a jack-in-the-box, appearing as though they just got out of the beauty parlor, their oversized, ever alert, ears reaching for the sky, their eyes wide and big as saucers they always demonstrate why “doe-eyed” has become a cliché for beautiful, innocent eyes.

I momentarily gave pause to think of what a bad dad I was for suspending common to endeavor a nonessential photo excursion when the weatherman and the Department of Transportation, both were telling everyone to stay home. I really had no time to fret over it much, or the roads would close, and my long weekend would be spent at home.

I have lived in many resort towns since, and I have noticed a trend, I am attracted to them when they are still small, quaint, and undiscovered, but it usually isn’t long before word spreads about this next great place. The newcomers arrive, and they marvel at the scenery but yearn for a classier looking town.

Yep, we’ve all been there “Post Processing Hell”. We get home from a great day of photography, never has trip into the field ever been so good. Then it’s over, into the cave we go.

I had been dwelling around the river valleys and canyon streams chasing trout long enough, it was time to re-acquaint myself with the unpredictable adrenaline rush horses often provide while expediting my exponentially ample ass up the mountain trails to the sublime subalpine regions of our high mountains

Native American legend across the country holds that the Great Spirit built the land, made the seas, and filled both well with animals and people: Long, long ago when the Great Waters surged in a blind and shoreless world, the gigantic beaver swam and dove and spoke with the Great Spirit.

Luck favors the prepared mind, as does serendipity. Webster’s definition-Serendipity – an apparent aptitude for making fortunate discoveries accidentally. Audacious, is the photographer who chooses to make his living stalking serendipity from one location to another then back again hoping to capture light as it has never been captured before or tougher yet as they may have captured it in the past.

In the mountains of the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem of northwest Wyoming there is a special valley resplendent with alpine amenities, wide-open spaces, vast forest wilderness, surrounded by towering peaks, and populated with more creatures than you can imagine.

Access to Yellowstone in winter is the problem, it has become illegal to take a private snowmobile into Yellowstone and very few of us have snow coaches of our own or are capable of marathon ski expeditions to access Yellowstone’s winter wonders, but it is not as inaccessible as many think.

In July of 2012 I got some great news when I heard the Baron had made it through another winter, I knew where I would be as soon as late September arrived. With the arrival of Autumn my priorities were divided between the elk rut, the moose rut, and fall colors but I was still checking often for the Baron. After multiple strikeouts I finally found him.

I woke up early and rolled those dice and took set out on the 1.5-hour drive to where I hoped serendipity might smile upon me knowing full well that the mountains would likely block an eclipse scheduled for a setting moon at sunrise.

A photographer’s day starts before the sun so an hour before dawn I found myself at a vantage point to shoot the stars above Chief Mountain, a revered spot of the Blackfeet Indians. A stunning sunrise was sure in the making because of the wispy cirrus clouds that were sure to capture pinks and oranges of the approaching dawn.

I find these opportunities quite problematic; you are shooting a landscape at your widest aperture so there is very little depth of field. What do you focus on? Once you figure that out you can’t see what you have decided on because it is darker than the resulting photo.

Shooting on the manual mode setting isn’t as hard as most people think because they haven’t given it any thought. Today’s DSLRs have opened the door to shortcuts, I love shortcuts!

As winter settles in on the Greater Yellowstone Region, the snowbirds fly south either by wing or by motor coach. Those of us that are more grounded either by work, will, finance, perverse adrenalin addictions or a slavish dedication to the four seasons settle in and prepare for the curses and blessings of winter.

When you put a 500mm lens on a Canon EOS 7D (1.6 crop factor) you do not get a 811mm lens – it is still a 500mm lens. The focal length; hence, the magnification of a photographic lens is fixed by its optical construction, and does not change with the format of the sensor that is put behind it.

About three quarters around my loop I stopped to photograph a six point bull looking for the ladies and while photographing him a black wolf walked into the frame, stopped, posed then moved out of the frame. How fortuitous, I love it when serendipity smiles upon me!

At the Oxbow at this early hour, we are hoping for the first hint of light to reveal an expanse of cirrus clouds above Mt. Moran to stop the warm rays of morning light from spilling over the edge of the world to an un-captureable point beyond the Grand Tetons.

Well, time to get out of here! I grabbed my tripod and purposefully started walking backwards. When being approached by carnivores it is important not to look alarmed and running is suicide

Eagerly anticipating a great day of wildlife photography, upon cresting the hill at Golden Gate just past Rustic Falls, to my surprise I saw three tepees pitched east of the road along Glen Creek. As I surveyed the scene for photo opps I noticed up ahead, crossing the road, a band of Indians, horseback, in buckskins, packing quivers of arrows and carrying spears.

Cleaved from the heart of the Colorado Plateau the powers that be have hewn some of nature’s best artistry from ancient sandstone then someone named it Zion. Zion National Park oozes the type of beauty that stops us in our tracks, gaping in awe.