Planning a Photo Trip

I enjoy traveling, I enjoy photography, and I enjoy planning my photography trips. I admit, I'm a compulsive planner when it comes to travel, though not elsewhere in my life. I've learned how to wring the absolute most out of my trip; this is the planning process that works for me. 

First Steps

Pick a location: I have a list of places I want to shoot, a list that only gets longer. I have found that photographing a location makes me appreciate it more than if I just visited.  I fell in love with the Southwest after I went to Arizona for a conference and had a free day to shoot in the Tucson area. I had been to the Southwest a number of times, but having a camera helped me really see it.

Pick a time frame: Most people take vacations in summer; I prefer to travel when most others have to stay at home (i.e., after school starts). First, it will probably be less expensive. In many areas hotels want to fill empty rooms and they offer attractive rates during the off-season. Since lodging may be my single greatest expense, this can make a real difference in my travel budget (my hotel bill is often half what it would be during high season.)  Airfares may be a bit lower as well, although I'm not sure I save much. Car rental rates are usually lower. Finally, and maybe most importantly, popular destinations will often have many fewer visitors, which can mean better photo opportunities and quieter locations.

The cooler seasons provide other advantages. Winter skies are usually free of haze and the days are shorter. That may sound like a disadvantage; however if I'm shooting sunrises, sunsets, and throughout the day in between, it's nice to have a shorter day. Otherwise, I'm getting up at 0400 to catch the sunrise and returning to my hotel sixteen hours later after sunset and maybe some night shooting. I've done it, but I prefer a more leisurely day. Finally, because the winter sun is lower on the horizon I can get some interesting light and shadows, and backlit scenes that would otherwise be flat and uninteresting. 

One of SunSurveyor's Screens

Finally, I take a look at the lunar calendar as I usually try to time my visit with the full moon. I use The Photographer's Ephemeris to get moonrise, moonset, sunrise and sunset times for any place on earth, any day of any year and visually show me the location of both sun and moon at any time. I have an app on my Android phone, SunSurveyor, which is a great on-site and planning tool. (There is a iOS version as well.) It shows me the locations of the sun and moon at any time, and the times of the golden and blue hours. There is a virtual mode that lets me see in real time where the sun and moon will be while I'm on location. You have to see it to believe it. 

Shooting the Lower Antelope Canyon

The Antelope Canyons in the Page, Arizona area, are hugely popular with photographers, and for good reason. They offer unique opportunities to capture the colors, shapes and textures of the sandstone walls and overhangs. The colors change as the sunlight, filtering down through the narrow slots, changes in angle and intensity. The canyons have become something of a cliche for outdoor photographers, but there's no escaping their beauty. If you're in that area, they are definitely worth your time.However, popularity creates problems. Others had warned me how crowded it could be, and I saw them literally trucking in visitors to the Upper Canyon, even in mid-December in freezing weather, so I decided not to shoot there. However, I did enjoy the Lower Antelope Canyon, which is located nearby but which is an entirely separate operation. Go about 11 AM for the best light. A two-hour photographer's pass is $36 and well worth it. You must show them your DSLR camera and a tripod; a point-and-shoot condemns you to touring with a guide and perhaps 8-10 others, all of whom are getting into each others' (and your) way. They are strict about the two-hour limit, but that's enough time if you keep moving.

Shoot with a wide-angle lens at fairly high ISO (400) and don't plan on switching lenses in the canyon: it's very dusty and the sand is extremely fine and can get in everywhere. (One gentleman who was shooting at the same time as me, inexplicably removed his lens and accidentally dropped it onto the sand. We did what could to blow and brush the sand out, but I think he was looking at a professional cleaning.) Take a rocket blower and brush in with you and check your lens occasionally. I used a 12-24mm (DX) lens and was very pleased with the quality of my images. However, a tripod is a must and I recommend a cable or IR remote. Of course, shooting RAW is a good idea, as it usually is elsewhere. Look up, look behind you; walk a few yards and repeat. The possibilities are endless. It's impossible to take too many images.

You'll be moving through some tight spaces, so travel light. I foolishly carried my photo backpack into the canyon, but should have left it in the car. My vest would have been sufficient to carry the few items I really needed. There is some climbing up and down metal stairs and ladders, but if you are careful you can manage them while carrying your camera and tripod.

I processed my images in Lightroom. Because of the variations in light, there can be a large tonal range and lighter areas can quickly blow out. I did not shoot HDR (I'm not a big fan) but Lightroom really did a good job opening up the shadows and toning down the highlights.

Shooting Monument Valley: Tom Phillips (Keyah Hozhoni) Tours

West Mitten at Moonrise

I made a long-planned photography trip to Northern Arizona and planned for two days at Monument Valley. Some research convinced me that Tom Phillips’ tour business, Keyah Hozhoni, was ideal for me. (Note: they are also known as Tom Phillips Photography, after the late Tom Phillips, who established the business.) About a month in advance I confirmed with Carlos, one of the owners, that I could do a sunset tour on one day and a sunrise tour the next morning. A couple of days prior to my arrival I emailed and confirmed. (I would have been happy to have paid a deposit, but they did not request one.)

I arrived at the View Hotel at 1:00 PM and met Ray Begaye, Tom Phillips' nephew and my guide. It was just the two of us and we set out for the sunset tour. (It being December, sunset comes early). Ray drove me around the 17-mile loop, but took me into restricted areas that only Navajo guides and local residents are allowed to access. Ray knows photography and has guided some well-known photographers, so he not only gets you to places, he makes suggestions about composition and exposure. He’s also very friendly and open and will educate you about the Navajo tribe, Monument Valley, and anything else you ask him. He was a great guide: patient, helpful and good at keeping us on schedule so we could make the most of the tour. The next morning, three others joined us at 5:45 AM for the sunrise tour and he drove us around the park for ideal shots of the sunrise and the morning sun lighting up the buttes and rocks. 

The Eagle

Don’t even think about driving the 17 mile loop in your vehicle unless it’s a high clearance 4-WD vehicle and you’re willing to take the chance of damage. It’s physically demanding to drive, as you’re dealing with potholes, rocks, and very rough road, and it will take your full concentration, which means you can’t enjoy the scenery until you stop. One wrong move (especially in the dark) and you can have real problems. Moreover, some of the best views are available only from restricted areas where only a guide can take you. Finally, you can't access the area before sunrise or after sunset without a guide.

If you’re serious about photography I strongly recommend that you call Ray. It will cost you more than driving the 17-mile loop on your own (which I do not recommend) and you’ll see areas you would not otherwise have access to. Any money you save will quickly disappear if you damage your personal or rental car. You’ll also learn about the people, the Navajo culture and the history of the Monument Valley, something you won’t get on your own. Finally, you're supporting the Navajo tribe. Altogether, it’s a full experience. And, if you break down the cost per hour ($250/8 hours + a well-deserved 20% tip), it's really no more expensive than most of the non-photography tours and you'll come home with images you'll treasure. So, if you're serious about your photography, go for the tour.

Sunrise

Tips:

• Take a tripod and remote. You’ll be shooting some long exposures. 
• Take an extra camera battery and, in winter, keep it warm in your pocket.
• A polarizer is a good idea. 
• I suggest one wide-angle lens and one mid-range zoom. I shot with a 12-24mm and 18-200mm (DX format). 
• Dress warmly in winter. It will likely be in the teens or colder before sunrise and it gets cold quickly after the sun goes down. Top and bottom thermals and heavy socks are a good idea. 
• I also recommend good hiking boots. You'll be doing some climbing and hiking on the sandstone can be tricky.
• The altitude (5,000-6,000 feet) will tax you a bit, but it's not that strenuous. 
• Take a bottle of water and some snacks. You’re going to be burning the calories.
• Ray can be reached directly at (928) 429-0042. I recommend you contact him with questions and to arrange a tour.

Point Sur Light Station

The Point Sur Light Station is another landmark on the Cabrillo Highway, one that is not especially easy to photograph because it is only infrequently open for tours. However, I highly recommend that you take the time to visit it if at all possible. For more tour info, go to the Point Sur home page. The Station is inaccessible to the public except during these tours. There is plenty of time and flexibility to wander off and take photos of the Station and its various buildings.

The tour is three hours long and is conducted on Saturdays, Sundays and Wednesdays on a first come-first served basis, with a maximum of 30 visitors. There were only a dozen visitors on the day I went. The two docents were informative and knowledgeable. The tour involves a climb up the access road. However, it is not particularly strenuous and they stop frequently to point out sights and to describe the fascinating history of the Station.

Of note, for once I chose to not carry a tripod and that worked out fine. There was plenty of light and there was no need for extra support. The Station does offer a moonlight tour that I'd like to take someday, and a tripod would be a must. Maybe next year!

The image to the left was taken at sunset from the road with a 300 mm lens.

Piedras Blancas Seal Rookery

I first visited the Piedras Blancas seal rookery in 2010 on my first visit to the Central Coast area. In December the seals are cheek-by-jowl, jostling for space and trying to catch the weak winter sun. Lest you think that this is a quiet, sanguine little beach, the seals are constantly snorting, barking, growling and making farting noises that will leave the 8 year-old in you snickering. Graceful only in the ocean, they shuffle, roll and collapse into scattered heaps of blubber. Their only captivating features are their eyes.

The main Piedras Blancas seal observation area is often busy, filled by tourists spilling out of buses and jostling each other for good spots to get photos of the seals. However, the seals are often too far away for really good shots unless you have a long telephoto. Even then, setting up a tripod will get you scowls and people are likely to trip over it, ruining your shot.  There's a wooden fence keeping visitors from encroaching on the seals' territory, and for good reason, given some folks' judgment. Bottom line, it's not easy to get a good shot here. But, there's a solution.

Head 1.3 miles south of the main observation area and you'll find a parking lot at the "Vista Point." (Look for the blue sign.) Park at the southernmost end of the lot and then take the path at the end of the lot about 100 yards further. You'll find yourself on the edge of a bank 10' or less from the seals, where you can get as many shots as you want. The two times I've visited this spot I've had it to myself.

The seals are either curious, napping or preoccupied with their battles for territory. There is no fence, but of course you absolutely should not climb down the bank. There's really no reason to--you can get all the shots you want with little effort. Respect the seals and leave them to their little corner of the coast.

Big Sur: The Bixby Bridge Revisited

Anyone who has driven down Highway 1 in Big Sur has crossed the Bixby Bridge, which is just 12 miles south of Carmel. Built in only 14 months and completed in 1932, it has an elegance of style and function you don't see in contemporary bridge architecture. It may be the most identifiable and iconic scenes on the Cabrillo Highway. I suppose that's why so many travelers stop and take photos of the bridge or just take in the vista of the Pacific coast from that vantage point. The location, along the rocky coast and surrounded by the hills of Big Sur, makes it one of my favorite spots.

Getting good shots of the bridge can be tricky unless you use a wide angle lens.  I like to capture the sweep of the bridge's lines from both ends. The parking area at the northern end of the bridge can get busy, so I like to get right up to the end of the bridge so I can capture some of the coastline. 

Shots from the southern end requires crossing the bridge and then parking in the tiny turnout just past the end of the bridge. Climb up the narrow path and you'll find yourself with a sweeping view of the bridge. With a wide angle lens you can capture the entire bridge, as well as some foreground and coastline. (The shot above was taken with a 12 mm lens on an APS-C sensor, equivalent to about a 20 mm full-frame lens.)

One unwelcome development this year: one evening two women set up portable speakers and were playing guitars and singing. Sorry, but this was just noise pollution in a beautiful setting.

The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum ("TALA") is an abandoned psychiatric hospital that was built in Weston, WV in the mid-19th century. After almost 150 years of treating the mentally ill, it was closed in 1994 after it became over-crowded and outdated. Since then, TALA has offered tours of its historic grounds and once a year it offers photographers relatively unrestricted access to the grounds and buildings.

As a psychologist and photographer the campus holds a special interest to me, so I eagerly anticipated a trip for the photographers' access this September. Seven of us journeyed to Weston, located in the middle of West Virginia.

Point Sur from Garrapata State Park

Point Sur at Dawn

I spent part of my first day in Big Sur scouting for likely locations for sunrise shots. I saved them in my GPS so that I could find them the next day when I was half awake. The challenge of sunrise photos in the Big Sur area is that the sun is behind the mountains for at least an hour before you actually see it. On the other hand, it can create beautiful colors, as it did on this particular December morning.

Big Sur from Garrapata State Park

I parked in the turn out and unpacked my gear, and promptly tripped over a root snaking out from the underbrush. Fortunately, I didn't have my camera in my hand and there was no one there to see me fall on my ass. I made my way down a trail with my coffee, tripod and backpack more or less securely in hand. The sage smelled wonderful and I would pinch some between my fingers to capture the aroma. I could hear the crashing of the waves below me and the seagulls wheeling overhead. It was delightful solitude.

As the sun crept up behind Point Sur I captured these images and promised myself to return someday. 

Patience is a Photographic Virtue

How Not to Take Good Photos

Here are the keys to photographic success:

1. Buy an expensive DSLR.
2. Roar up to a turnout near a scenic outlook.
3. Thrust camera out of the window and take several frames.
4. Drive off.
5. Admire your work at home.

This really happened and I caught it, mostly by accident. I was positioned at the Hurricane Point turnout just south of the Bixby Bridge in Big Sur, waiting for the light from the setting sun to get just right. My camera was mounted on my tripod and every few minutes I took a frame or two. Suddenly, a car drove up and the scene I just described unfolded. I swung around and captured it.

I don't know how good the woman's photos were. Maybe they were spectacular; maybe they were blurry because it was a low-light situation and she shot without support. But beyond her haste to take pictures, I know she could not appreciate the beauty below us in the few seconds she was there. As I stood on the high bluff overlooking the rocky Big Sur coast I was able to enjoy the golden light falling on the blue Pacific water and the vista laid out before me. Now, when I look at the image below, I will not only enjoy the photo itself, I'll be transported back to the hour I spent experiencing the landscape. Her memory will be much different.

Bixby Bridge at Dusk

For me, photography isn't just about creating an image for my future enjoyment. It's also a pathway to re-experiencing what I did to capture the image. I want to be relive the smells, sounds and the totality of the sensory experience when, years later, I gaze at it and remember how much I enjoyed creating it and the time I devoted to doing so.
What will she remember?

A Morro Bay Morning

Rowing to Shore for the Morning Walk

As usual, I was up before dawn, one of my favorite times to take pictures, and with my time in California quickly dwindling, I came to one of my favorite locations in Morro Bay to catch the sunrise hitting Morro Rock. Sometimes, the sun seems to set the rock on fire with a golden glow. That was not to be on this day, but I captured a scene that became my favorite image of the trip.

I was standing on the dock at Anchor Park, my camera was set up on my tripod and I was sipping coffee, trying to keep warm in the pre-dawn chill. I spotted a man rowing his sailing dinghy, bow to shore, from his ketch anchored in the bay. He pivoted the boat as he got closer and I realized there was a dog in the stern. The dog was motionless, intently focused on the approaching shore and the relief that would come with it. In the still air I could hear only the creak and splash of the oars. As the man tied his boat to the dock, his dog sat patiently, his thick fur glistening with dew in the cool morning light. We greeted each other, the man saying that his "woolly mammoth" loved coming ashore for his morning walk. The man was barefoot in the 50 degree temperature, his feet red from the frigid water in the bottom of the boat. After making the dinghy shipshape, they walked off for their morning respite. I looked for them the next day, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Sailors and their dogs. Few relationships are as devoted.

Ragged Point

Ragged Point

As I drove up the coast I also got further from civilization, symbolized by my loss of a cell phone signal. This also meant no phone GPS and no geotagging in my Droid. Oh, the horror.

This loss of my electronic umbilicus was compensated for by the beauty of the Big Sur coastline. At the same time, I'd rather have been a passenger than a driver. Highway 1 winds snake-like along the steep cliffs with switchbacks and sharp curves liberally scattered along the way. This means "pay attention to the road or else." Fortunately, I didn't get behind any trucks and for the most part I had the road to myself.

I stopped at the Ragged Point Inn, which was very quiet, perhaps because it was a weekday. I took the shot you see here, which gives you an idea of how the coastline is usually a sheer drop from the road.

South of Ragged Point

A bit further south I found a rocky beach. I was hoping to get photos of some breakers, but the onshore breeze wasn't cooperating. I would guess that in the winter this beach is assaulted by the winter storms that careen through the area, another reason I need to get back here soon.

This small section of the California coast is simply amazing. It deserves far more time than I had to give it. If I'd had a week, I'd have spent much more time south of Morro Bay and driven all the way to Monterey, hiked some of the trails, and enjoyed the wildlife that populates the area. I have my hopes up that I'll find another reason to travel to the area soon. Until then, I'll continue to work on my photography and wait impatiently to head west again.

The Piedras Blancas Seal Rookery

There are two types of elephant seals at Piedras Blancas, just a few miles up the road from San Simeon: cute and ugly. As it usually is in nature, the females are cute, the males have a face only a near-sighted mother could love. This was my next stop.

The elephant seal rookery is a beach that the seals return to each mating season, which occurs over the winter months. I'm a bit early for the season, so there's somewhat fewer than the usual 15,000 seals on the beach.  It is also a tourist magnet, and for good reason. Although visitors are discouraged and largely unable to get on the beach, it is possible to do so but everyone respects the fences and stays on the observation platforms that line the beach.

While I appreciate the respectful attitude visitors have, it does create a bit of a problem for photographers. First, a long lens (300mm or better) is a good idea. That means "tripod," and I found the foot traffic and general jostling for space among the group a bit of a challenge. I tried at first to do a handheld-shot propped on the rail, but people kept bumping into the rail, spoiling the stability. I couldn't fault them--it's a fascinating place, but the earlier in the day you arrive, the better off you probably are, and a tripod or at least monopod is necessary.

In any case, Piedras Blancas is a must-see. It's a treat to see the seals up close and personal, sleeping, snoring, barking, roaring, and watching us with a wary eye.

Goin' Up the Country

San Simeon Pier

Heading north up Highway 1, I stopped at San Simeon Pier, a long leggy structure that seems to serve no purpose other than being photogenic. Maybe people fish from it; I don't know. No one was fishing from it that day. I watched several car loads of visitors walk to the end of the pier, turn around, return to their cars, and take off. I'm not quite sure what they were expecting to see and maybe they saw it. For my part, I liked the pier and marked it down as a "must come back here someday" spot.

Cayucos

And, in a way, I did later that day. I stopped for lunch at Sebastian's General Store and Cafe, home of monster sandwiches, any one of which requires two hands and a big appetite. The "General Store" is small and not as interesting as I hoped, but the food was amazing and kept me going all day.  I decided to skip Hearst Castle, although I might return someday and check it out. For this trip, I stuck to landscapes. And seals. Gotta see the seals.

Morro Rock: Icon and Anchor

Morro Rock at Sunrise

At first glance (i.e., from a computer screen in Virginia) Morro Rock resembles a craggy bowler hat. In real life, where I had the benefit of appreciating the scale, I realized that it's huge--almost 600 feet high (and higher than the Washington Monument, my benchmark for "high")  and since we're at sea level 600' seems really friggin' high. The texture of Morro Rock gives it real character and when you experience the rock you understand why people are drawn to it photographically and emotionally, which may be the same thing. Ultimately, Morro Rock sets Morro Bay apart from other seaside towns up and down the coast.  Add the occasional elephant seal cruising through looking for snacks, sailboats on their moorings, working fishing boats, at least a dozen good restaurants on the waterfront, and you have a charming location that deserved far more time than the single day I had dedicated to it. Although I regretted not scheduling a second day at the end of my trip, as it turned out it rained so my options would have been limited.  But after a few more shots, including the one above, it was time to work my way up the coast.

Morro Bay: The Adventure Begins

Morro Rock from Tidelands SP at Dawn

At long last, December 1 arrives and I was ready. Five AM comes early no matter where you are, but given the time difference with the east coast it was actually 8 AM at home, so I felt like I'd slept in. I had two hours before the sun came up and I'd already selected my shooting location for dawn, so I had time to kill. I killed part of it with a McDonald's breakfast, a guilty pleasure allowed only on special occasions, such as when the hotel's buffet is still MIA.

I fired up my pickup and headed for my predetermined location in Tidelands State Park, just south of downtown. I had determined from home that Morro Rock was fully illuminated by the morning sun at about 7:15, so I parked, drank my coffee, and waited. As it got a bit lighter I set up my tripod and camera and began trying different locations. I found the one I wanted and set up my shot.  Just as I did so, two other photographers pulled up and began doing the same thing. They were not chatty, so I kept to myself. (I did notice that when I left they moved to my former position, so I must have picked the best spot.)
I took quite a number of shots, trying various exposures, knowing that a little work in Photoshop was probably going to be in my future. The shot above is my favorite from this location. But, the day was young and it was time to move.