A week ago last Saturday, Tanya, Carson and I took another hike. This one to Ebey’s Landing up on Whidbey Island. This hike covers a bit less than 6 miles roundtrip and involves walking across a classic, island prairie, along the tallest coastal bluff in Washington State, and along a driftwood-strewn Puget Sound beach.
Though this is a great hike anytime of the year, it is especially good in the winter when snow prevents hiking in the mountains. It is also in the Olympic Mountain’s rain shadow, so it rains less there than in Seattle (the average annual precipitation is about 24 inches compared to 34 inches in Seattle).
Almost every step of this hike has a great view of the Olympics (though they were mostly cloud covered on our trip). There is also an awesome view of Mount Baker, and even a view of Mount Rainier far to the south. The hike even has a bit of history; the hike being inside Ebey’s Landing National Historic Reserve. The area was first settled in the 1850s, and a few of the original homestead buildings are still standing today.
And after the hike, don’t forget to drop into the nearby, historic town of Coupeville for some of the famous Penn Cove mussels. We stopped at Toby’s Tavern for a quick bite and a cold beer. The tavern sits on the water of Penn Cove and offers affordable seafood and other bar foods (though if stuffed animal heads make you nervous, you might want to try someplace else).
PS – Kickstarter update: my project has been online a little over a week and has already been fully funded. However, the project will still be active on Kickstarter another few weeks. You still have a chance to pledge. For a $5 pledge, you will receive a copy of the ebook – that’s a discount on what the ebook will cost after it’s published. Check out my Seattle ebook project here.
Mountain blues? Well, lots blue sky maybe. In fact, the only thing to be blue about was the lack of clouds (ever notice how photographers are never happy with the weather – believe me, Tanya has noticed [and has told me so]). So I saw lots of blue. But how about purples, yellows and reds? I saw them too during the three days I spent on Blue Mountain in Olympic National Park over last weekend.
The trip was an official Mountaineers photography outing, lead by my friend and most excellent photographer John Woods. We camped at campground at Deer Park and had great views of the Olympic Mountains without leaving our picnic table. But we did leave the picnic table, to travel the short distance the rest the way up Blue Mountain for sunset and sunrise shots.
Blue Mountain is 6,007 feet high, which may not sound like much, but because its summit is only less than 12 miles from sea level, it seems like it is way up there. It is one of the highest places you can drive to in Washington State (the parking lot is about 170 feet below the summit). The view is incredible – look to the north and see the Straits of Juan de Fuca, Vancouver Island, the San Juan Islands, the Canadian Cascades, Port Angeles, Sequim, and Victoria, British Columbia; look to the east and see Whidbey Island, Puget Sound, Mount Baker, Glacier Peak, and the North Cascades; and look to the south and west see the Olympic Mountains.
But there was much more to photograph than the view from Blue Mountain. There were lots of wildflowers and animal life (they don’t call it Deer Park for nothing). And there were hikes to take. It was a great weekend – definitely nothing to be blue about.
Last week Tanya, Carson (our Newfoundland), and I circumnavigated Hood Canal. (For those not familiar with Washington State geography, Hood Canal is not a canal. It is a natural saltwater channel, essentially a fiord – long and narrow- that runs along the east side of the Olympic Mountains.) I was hunting for good photographs. Tanya and Carson went along for the ride. We first stopped at Shine Tidelands State Park, on the west side of the Hood Canal Bridge. The tide was very low, and we saw some interesting sea life. Carson took a swim, or more like a wade (he seems to be the only Newfoundland in the world that doesn’t like going in water deeper than where he can touch the bottom). Not much photographically, but fun nonetheless.
We continued west and then south, through Quilcene to Mount Walker. I was hoping to get some forest shots of wild rhododendrons. The road to the top of Mount Walker is lined with them. Unfortunately, we only saw one bud just starting to open. That’s it. We probably saw 2,500 rhodies, but no blooms. To make matters worse, it was raining on the top of Mount Walker. There are two viewpoints up there. At the northern viewpoint, we could only see a couple dozen yards. At the southern one, there was a hole in the clouds, so I did trip the shutter a few times (in the rain) looking down on a sunny Hood Canal and Puget Sound. Nothing too special, but it gave me a chance to use my rain sleeve.
After driving back down to the highway, and a quick-lunch stop, we continued on to Brinnon. There we stopped at Whitney Gardens and Nursery. Whitney Gardens includes over 7 acres of rhododendrons and azaleas, seemingly in peak bloom, as well as other plants and trees. It was not crowded, most people were staying in the nursery portion of the grounds. I had the garden to myself. With the sun in and out of the clouds, I was watching out for too much contrast. So I looked for compositions mostly in the shade or when the sun was behind the clouds. After about an hour and a half, I’d had my fill of rhodies.
We then drove up the Dosewallips River Road to look for river and forest scenes. We pasted a herd of elk on the way out of Brinnon, as I didn’t have the big glass (big for me anyway) on the camera. I decided to shoot the elk on the way back. We stopped a Rocky Brook Falls and it had a good flow. The sun was fully out now, and the contrast was too much for any decent waterfall shots. But back at the car, we found it wouldn’t start! We had the starter replaced about a week earlier, but since it was “fixed”, it sometimes wouldn’t start when the engine is hot. So we had to wait, but that just gave me more time at Rocky Brook. By now the clouds had come back some and the contrast had dropped considerably. I was able to capture a decent shot of the creek and a better one of the falls.
On the next try, the car started right up, and we drove to the end of the road. On the way back, I took a few shots of the Dosewallips River and put on the 70-200mm lens with a teleconvertor to shoot the elk when we got back toward town. The elk were still there, now on both sides of the road. They apparently didn’t like the looks of me, because they sure turned their backsides toward the camera whenever I stuck it out the window!
Back on the highway, we continued south. At the Hamma Hamma River, we again drove in toward the Olympic Mountains. I took a few shots of the river, but not much else caught my eye, so it was back to the highway. But a short ways down the highway, at the mouth of the Hamma Hamma, there was a good view over Hood Canal. The tide was now high, and the Hamma Hamma delta was flooded. I liked the flooded grasses in the delta with big towering clouds on the other side of the canal.
We skipped the drive up to Staircase and stopped at the Tacoma Power park at Potlatch for a picnic dinner, though it was a bit cold to eat outside the car. After dinner, Carson took another “swim” off the boat ramp. Then it was on to the far side of Hood Canal near Union to find a good spot for sunset shots. Earlier in the day I would have bet we would not have seen a sunset, it was that cloudy. But now, there was the chance for a colorful one. We drove up and down the highway south of Union, and I finally decided on a spot overlooking the Skokomish delta, with Hood Canal and the Olympic Mountains in the background. The mountains were mostly covered with clouds, but the sunset wasn’t bad. Based on the featured photo on this blog, you be the judge.
I spent about an hour at the spot, first waiting for the sun to set, than shooting about 180 frames. I had used most of an 8 GB card earlier in the day, so for these sunset shots, I put in a new 4 GB card. I was pretty happy with the results and we headed home.
By this time, you might be wondering why this blog entry is titled “The Lost Sunset.” Well, the next day I downloaded the 8 GB card with no problem. I was using an external hard drive with a card reader attached with a USB cable to my computer, downloading directly to Lightroom and backing up at the same time. When I stuck the card in with the sunset shots, it went in a little funny. Lightroom showed the first two shots and the very last shot, all the rest were nothing but white frames with lots of color noise. I pulled the card out and saw one of the pins on the card reader bent flat. I put the card back into the camera, and the camera failed to recognize it. The card was corrupt and my sunset shots were lost. I felt slightly sick.
At the time I didn’t own any file recovery software. The following day I did some research on the internet, and downloaded a couple of free programs. Both these succeeded in pulling some old photographs off the corrupt memory card – photos left over from an old shoot, shots that had been erased when I reformatted the card prior to the card at Hood Canal. Neither was able to same the sunset shots. I had heard that PhotoRescue was good program, so I downloaded it. Though it costs about $30, it allows you to try before you buy by showing thumbnail images of the files it can recovery. It seemed to work, and $30 later, I had my lost sunset shots.
I guess the morale of the story is don’t force your compact flash memory cards into a card reader. If they don’t go in smoothly, try lining it up again. And if all else fails, try PhotoRescue. It rescued me.
If you are serious about photography, you should always carry your camera with you. I’ve often given this advice to less experienced photographers. You never know when you will find fantastic light – and you can’t capture it without a camera. This is one reason, a little more than a year ago, I purchased a small point-and-shoot camera – so I could carry that one around when I don’t have my regular one. (Of course, I couldn’t just buy any small camera, I purchased a point-and-shoot that still allows me to shoot in RAW format and aperture-priority mode.)
About a week ago, Tanya and I traveled up to west Seattle to have brunch with family at a small restaurant on Alki Beach. Rounding the corner from Harbor Avenue to Alki Avenue, we were treated with an iconic Seattle scene – ferries plying Puget Sound in front of the snow-capped Olympic Mountains. The light was beautiful, the mountains were gorgeous with a background of stormy clouds. To make it even better, a strong north wind was blowing, and the Sound was covered with whitecaps. In addition to the ferries, there were several kitesurfers (or kiteboarders, I’m not sure of the correct term) jumping the waves, getting 20 feet of air.
So with these great subjects and that great light, why is this blog illustrated with a picture of Mount Rainier taken in Gig Harbor? Because I didn’t follow my own advice. My big camera was safely at home. And while I did have the little point-and-shot, the images I had in mind needed my telephoto lens. I wanted to isolate the ferry, with the mountains big in the background (similar to what I did with this shot of Rainier). Same with the kiteboarders. The little camera couldn’t do this. And I was disgusted with myself for not following my own advice.
Why the photo of Rainier? Because this is an example of what you can do if you carry your camera around with you. I captured this image about five or six years ago (when I lived in Gig Harbor, though not near the harbor itself). I was commuting home from work one day, when I noticed the lenticular cloud on top of Rainier. It was near sunset, and I thought something special might be up. So, instead of heading home, I went to downtown Gig Harbor and captured this shot. I’ve probably sold more copies of this image than any other photograph I’ve taken – all because I was carrying my camera with me.
So do as I say, not as I do – carry your camera with you.