Welcome back! I have been so focused on our growing wedding photography business that I didn’t get out backpacking at all last year, hence no trip reports or much of anything else posted here in over a year. Now that winter is upon us (sort of) I figured I would do this post from the maiden voyage of our new Aliner. That’s right, at age 44, I finally am hanging up the tent for car camping and trading it in for a cute, little trailer that goes anywhere. And boy am I glad it does, because for the first trip, I drove down to Mammoth Mountain for a 5 day series of ski races and figured I could save about $500 on room cost by camping out in the desert. What I didn’t figure on was the foot of snow covering the desert roads in Owen’s Valley. It took chains on the X-Terra to get us into position and to and from the trailer for the first couple of days until it turned warm and melted everything, but the bonus was that for two days, I didn’t see another soul near the hotsprings. Owen’s Valley holds several hotsprings in different states of development. Some of them are right off the road, and most of them are scattered around the outskirts of Little Alkali Lake.

In November we got a new Aliner pop-up trailer to take on our photo journeys. I decided to test it out at my first ski races of the season at Mammoth Mountain. I figured I would camp near the hotsprings out in Owen’s Valley, but I didn’t count on nearly a foot of snow on the desert roads. Fortunately I had chains and had to put them on my 4×4 in order to tow the trailer into position.

Since I was racing, I had to be able to wax my race skis each day. I hard wired an 800 watt inverter to my car battery, and while the car was running it worked like a charm. My waxroom had the best view of anyone!

The snow melted off after several days. This was a sunset over Little Alkali Lake in Owen’s Valley, just below my campsite.

Sunrise over the campsite at the head of Little Alkali Lake in Owen’s Valley near Mammoth Mountain.

One last shot of the Aliner, during a long exposure lit by the moon.

Sunset over the warm waters of Little Alkali Lake

Monique takes in the sunrise at one of the nearby hotsprings. It was nice to be able to loosen up the bones each morning before ski racing, especially since the temps at night were dropping down to about 10 F.

I almost missed this set of images since I was so focused on shooting the other way, toward the mountains. Finally I noticed my wife gesticulating frantically in the distance and pulled my face out of my D800 long enough to be hit by this from behind.

Monique and I set off Sunday in search of fall colors. We knew that the aspens were looking good around South Lake and Sabrina Lake near Bishop, but when we got down there, we found a brief storm a few days ago had frozen the turning leaves and made them go an ugly black. Nothing to see here as the old saying goes, so we spontaneously changed our plans to backpack in this area shooting fall colors and decided to head another hour south to the Alabama Hills, always a cool place. We figured in the middle of the week in October, nobody would be there. Boy were we wrong. Take note, it just happened to be Columbus Day weekend (does he still merit a holiday?) which is the same weekend that Lone Pine was hosting it’s 22nd annual Lone Pine Film Festival.

Despite the much higher than usual campers in the area, we were still able to find nice secluded areas to camp in solitude as well as shoot undisturbed sunrise and sunset shots. The only thing I didn’t feel like doing was hanging with the 10 other photographers in the area, who all congregated around the one well known arch all day long. There is only one marked hiking trail in the Alabama Hills that I know of, it starts at an obvious turnout off the main road (Movie Rd.) and has signs directing people to “the arch.” Well, we went exploring for hours among the coolest rocks in the world and found a couple of arches of our own with not a sole around. Funny thing is, I didn’t realize there was a “The Arch” here, so at one point a photographer rolls into our campsite and asks if I knew how to get to “The Arch,” I gave him some really difficult directions involving some route finding and a lot of hiking to get to an arch that I liked. The next day I drove by “The Arch” turnout. I hope he didn’t listen to me, because if he did, I’m sure he must think I am out of my mind.

This was the trip when I finally decided that I am done with split grade neutral density filters. Sacrilege you say? I have been using high-end Singh Ray filters for a decade. But after getting home and playing with what Photoshop can do now with smart object stacking (stacking multiple raw images in a way that not only allows you to access the Camera Raw features for each image in the stack at any given time, but also allows you to mask and blend however you want) I just convinced myself that I can get better quality by bracketing a few raw exposures and stacking them as smart objects and blending with gradient masks as well as painting specific masks where I want them.

I also did away with another relic of my film days on this trip, the long time exposures. Digital has always had it’s limitations with long night exposures such as those found in star trail shots. Once again I finally proved to myself that stacking multiple, shorter exposures, then blending them via the maximum mode produces a higher-quality star trail image and allows me more control.

One last little experiment we did on this trip was with a converted infrared camera. I had a Nikon D300 converted to photograph only in the infrared spectrum in Black and White which we had used for a cool effect in our wedding photography. This was the first time I had it out for strictly landscape use, and it did not disappoint! I used that probably more than our color body. We had a full moon during our trip, so many of these images were actually taken at night, but on a long exposure under a full moon, it just looks like a daylight shot….with stars.

All of these images, and many more are available for license or for sale as prints, just search my archive using keywords such as Alabama Hills, etc.

Star trails over Mt. Whitney and Lone Pine peak in the Alabama Hills. This was done via stacking method.

Sunrise on Lone Pine Peak from Alabama Hills. You may recognize this exact scene (only in mid-day) as the Jerico Missile test site from the original Iron Man movie.

Sunrise in the High Sierra from Alabama Hills

Lone Pine peak viewed through the rocks of Alabama Hills.

Sunrise on the High Sierra seen through one of the many small arches in the Alabama Hills.

Mt. Whitney framed in one of the many arches in the Alabama Hills in this infra-red shot.

Monique walking down Movie Road.

Full moon rise.

Our wonderful Big Agnes Fly Creek tent with Lone Pine peak in this 30 second night exposure.

Sunrise on Mt. Whitney from the Alabama Hills.

One final shot from the Alabama Hills sunrise.

An infra-red shot at the base of Eureka Dunes.

Me hiking up to try and catch a shot with the last light, but I was too late.

Last light on the Eureka Dunes.

Even from the top of the Eureka Dunes, we found people. This long night exposure shows the approach of another hiker along the ridgeline.

Monique holds still for this 30 second night exposure at the top of the Eureka Dunes in Death Valley.

Eureka Dunes exposure under full moon.

Eureka Dunes sunrise infrared photograph.

Our campsite in the meadow below Return Lake, looking across at Excelsior Mountain and Shepherd Crest at sunset. The meadow made much better camping than Return Lake as it had more flat spots, lots of running water and less mosquitoes.

by Scott Sady

Day 1: Green Lakes trail head over Virginia Pass. Our first day started easily enough at Green lakes trail-head. Starting elevation was 7800 feet. We followed the trail to Green Lakes, then cross country to Virginia pass at 10550 ft. There was a decent use trail up to the pass and down the back side. Shortly after starting down the back, we then cut due west cross country to camp in a meadow below return lake and Virginia Peak.

Day 2: Stanton Pass to Spiller Creek. From the meadow just below Return Lake, which had beautiful running streams and far less mosquitoes and more flat area than Return Lake, we proceeded to the pass between Virginia Peak and Stanton Peak.
The book describes this as class 3 but it is actually a very hard class three. The low point or true saddle is not what you must aim for as we found out having to downclimb and aim for a higher point as far climber’s right as you can get, just left of a large peaklet that marks the start of Virginia Peak.
The Down-climb into the canyon is treacherous over steep and endless scree fields. We were destroyed by the end of the day and camped in the first semi-flat place we could find above the meadows.

Day 3: Spiller Creek Canyon. From a high meadow just below Virginia Peak we made our way on tired legs slowly down into Spiller Creek Canyon. After a short decent of a few hundred feet we hit treeline. The forest quickly closed in about us but opened up in front of us making for easy traveling. Bear scat was everywhere and wildflowers painted the forest floor with every imaginable color. From our nights perch just below the snowfield that formed the headwaters of Spiller Creek, we eventually came to the creek itself. We followed the water downstream staying on the north east side as the terrain alternated between open forest and meadows crisscrossed by snowmelt streams at regular intervals. Every now and then we would get a stark reminder of natures awesome power in the form of massive avalanche paths. The kind that only happen every hundred years or so. Abruptly the forest would end on a sometimes 1/4 mile long swath stripped clear of topsoil and piled high with the skeletons of massive downed trees.
Finally, about a 1/4 mile before we were to reach the junction of the PCT, the forest and meadows gave way to smooth, clean granite. The river cascaded along a granite bed, occasionally turning and slowing enough to form crystal clear and ice cold pools deep enough to swim in. We pitched our tents among the trees back from the waters edge, settled in and took a much needed swim in the icy waters.

Day 4: Spiller Creek to Hoover Lakes. We made Virginia Canyon along return creek in fast time. Nothing much to see until you begin to climb the 900 feet up to Summit Lake. Near the top of the climb is the most spectacular wildflower field I have ever seen with views out towards Virginia Peak and Stanton Peak, the pass we did on our second day.
Summit lake is a beautiful lake with camping space at both ends. We stayed at Hoover lakes surrounded by marmots and mouthy birds. The only camping we could find there was between the two lakes. From Hoover lake we stared up at the backside of Dunderberg peak, which I have skied in winter.
The valley you drop into following the trail past summit lake is straight out of a fantasy movie. High glaciers feed three separate streams that cascade nearly a thousand vertical feet before joining at the valley floor and rushing away. One of the streams springs out from a football sized hole in the very mountain itself. I made the climb up to the surging spring and drank the best tasting water straight from the mouth of the mountain.

Day 5: Hoover Lakes back to trail-head. The final day was a fairly non-eventful hike downhill back to the trail-head. The only real camping along this area is at East Lake, large with good swimming, and Green Lake, which has at least two really built up camp-sites, complete with giant cut benches made out of downed trees, and massive fire-pits. Though since Green Lake is only a few miles from the trail-head, you will have company.

All these images and more are available for sale or license at my stock image archive. Also see our trip report from the Ansel Adams wilderness and Minaretes last year.

Reaching Green Lake after a 2.5 mile hike from the trail-head, and looking across at the cross-country route we had selected to start our trip across the Sawthooth's.

Heading up Virginia Pass after leaving the trail at Green Lakes. There is a subtle, but decent use trail that goes to the top of the pass, and I would consider this a fairly easy climb up to 10,550ft.

Our route up Virginia Pass after leaving the trail at Green Lakes. There is a subtle, but decent use trail that goes to the top of the pass, and I would consider this a fairly easy climb up to 10,550ft.

On top of Virginia Pass at 10,550 ft. Looking across at Stanton Peak and Stanton Pass, which we will hit the next day.

Our campsite in the meadow below Return Lake, looking across at Excelsior Mountain and Shepherd Crest at sunset. The meadow made much better camping than Return Lake as it had more flat spots, lots of running water and less mosquitoes.

On top of Stanton Pass after two attempts. We aimed for the low spot in the saddle, but it was all cliffs on the other side. Then we scouted and found a steep gully route near the base of Virginia Peak. The book The High Sierra by R.J. Secor describes a ledge ascent that leads to a notch on the ridge below Stanton peak, but as it was covered in snow on the approach, we don't know if this was easier or not. This was a very difficult pass with hands and feet scrambling on loose talus. We had to take the girls packs for them to make it.

The back side of Stanton Pass into Spiller Creek canon after two attempts. This was a long and steep talus downclimb.

Heading down into the untouched headwaters of Spiller Creek with our objective for the next day, Matterhorn Pass, visible as the low saddle at top right.

Camp for the night in Spiller Creek. After much discussion of our depleted physical state after Stanton Pass, and the possibility that Matterhorn Pass would be just as hard, though only a class 2 downclimb after a class 3 ascent, we decided to head down Spiller Creek and hook up with the PCT.

Heading through amazing fields of wildflowers down into Spiller Creek canyon.

Spiller Creek canyon was a true gem. No trails, no sign of humanity and we never saw either a person or a hint of a campsite. Here we take a lunch break in a massive avalanche path. Note all the trees strewn about like twigs.

Heading through amazing fields of wildflowers in Spiller Creek canyon. The canyon was untouched by humanity and very easy to navigate.

Heading through amazing fields of wildflowers in Spiller Creek canyon. The canyon was untouched by humanity and very easy to navigate.

Pumping water on a beautiful flat slab of granite along Spiller Creek. Up to this point there were no trails and no signs of human presence in the entire canyon. We felt like it was ours alone. This campsite rates among the best I ever had.

Finally came to a rest about 1/4 mile before reaching the PCT on a beautiful flat slab of granite along Spiller Creek. Up to this point there were no trails and no signs of human presence in the entire canyon. We felt like it was ours alone. This campsite rates among the best I ever had. Loads of flat, clean granite to stretch out on, play games, do yoga, and an exceptional swimming hole if you explore up-river.

One of the may species of wildflowers that literally littered the entire canyon floor, was wild onion. So we picked a few for dinner to season up our lentle and rice mix. MMmmmm!

A night exposure by the full moon near our campsite along Spiller Creek.

Finally came to a rest about 1/4 mile before reaching the PCT on a beautiful flat slab of granite along Spiller Creek. Up to this point there were no trails and no signs of human presence in the entire canyon. We felt like it was ours alone. This campsite rates among the best I ever had. Loads of flat, clean granite to stretch out on, play games, do yoga, and an exceptional swimming hole if you explore up-river.

After recouping our strength from the difficult climb up Stanton Pass, we changed our original plans and looped back towards our starting point at Green Lake. We followed Virginia Canyon back uphill, paralleling Spiller Creek Canyon, though this time on a trail. Here we are with a brave young buck just about to ascend out of the canyon to Summit Lake.

Most of Virginia Canyon was an easy, but underwhelming hike on a well used trail. But the last 1/4 mile before reaching Summit Lake revealed the best wildflower fields I have ever seen.

Most of Virginia canyon was an easy, but underwhelming hike on a well used trail. But the last 1/4 mile before reaching Summit Lake revealed the best wildflower fields I have ever seen. Here we are looking back at Stanton and Virginia peaks and the pass between them that we climbed 2 days prior.Most of Virginia canyon was an easy, but underwhelming hike on a well used trail. But the last 1/4 mile before reaching Summit lake revealed the best wildflower fields I have ever seen. Here we are looking back at Stanton and Virginia peaks and the pass between them that we climbed 2 days prior.

Summit Lake and back out of Yosemite National Park and into the Hoover Wilderness again.

A Yosemite park boundary marker from 1906.

Our trial and error route up Stanton Pass. The yellow line is the line we think is described in very little detail in The High Sierra by R.J.Secor. But we could not find a viable approach, possibly due to snow. The Red route is our initial climb. Class 3, fairly straight-forward, but closed out on the descent by cliffs. The green route up the steep gully below the edge of Virginia Peak ended up being our route. We had to go back down a third time and get the girls packs for them to make it. Class 3 on both sides, hands and feet mandatory on the ascent.

Our campsite at Hoover Lakes. Not much of a choice, but nice for us, and not a soul in sight.

The way down from Summit Lake to Green lake was marked by numerous stream crossings. Some pretty stout. Springtime in August. You gotta love it.

Let me back up a second. Monique and I had hit the road not so much for a photography road trip, as my annual pilgrimage to Colorado for the freestyle kayaking competition circuit. First stop, the legendary Teva Mountain Games at 8200 feet in Vail, Colorado.

On our way out, we decided to take the loneliest highway, highway 50, partly because I hate traffic, but mostly because it is cool and quirky. There were a million things I would have loved to spend time photographing, but we only had two days to get to Vail, so that will wait for another trip. We stopped in Ely, NV, for lunch, where I discovered that Bell Telephone actually becomes the Empire and invents the Death Star. It’s right there on a mural painted on their office wall.

Next we found a great hotsprings near the town of Meadow, UT. Giant hot pools with an underground cave. Unfortunately, we had to spend about an hour in the wee hours of the morning cleaning up after the locals, but then we had the place to ourselves and really relaxed. It was after this energy sapping soak in hot mineral water that I really needed my coffee. Alas, we had to wait to Colorado. A whole state away for coffee!

Once in Colorado, we high-tailed it to the town of Vail, home to the famous ski resort of the same name. The Teva Mountain Games are huge. The creek where we were competing, however was very small. Small, ice cold and did I mention at 8200 feet? Nevertheless, I had some good rides between gasps for oxygen and made the semi-finals in my first appearance there. I was happy.

From there we hit Lyons, Colorado. Lyons starts the string of cool kayaking communities in which there are only 2 requirements. A whitewater park and a brewery. Colorado has nearly 20 man-made whitewater parks on existing rivers. More than all the other states combined. Colorado has quickly found out that constructing these boater friendly parks is inexpensive, and pays huge dividends in increased tourism. I am currently in Salida, CO, home to the longest running whitewater festival in the country, FIBARK. Going strong for over 60 years, it turned its first profit the year after they build several whitewater features on the Arkansas river that runs through downtown. Many other small communities quickly followed suit, seeing the goldmine created by recreation on about the only things many of these old mining towns have left – water. I really wish California and Nevada would get off their duff and follow through on existing plans for expanding recreation in Reno and Chico. The Reno whitewater park is about the most successful thing that city has build in 20 years.

Many of these photos were shot by Monique while I was boating.

This mural on the Ely Bell Telephone building proves that Bell systems eventually becomes the Empire and invents the Death Star.

Soaking in the Utah Hotsprings after cleaning it up.

Monique floats in the steamy waters at sunrise.

Clouds and sun-rays held sway for the Teva Mountain Games. It was scalding hot when the sun was out, and cold when it went behind the clouds.

They kayaking competition venue at Teva is unique. First, thousands of people actually come out to watch, tens of thousands for the finals. Second, you are surrounded 360 degrees by spectators on bridges surrounding the feature.

Lyons, CO, is the gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park, a mere 30 miles up the road.

Most of the park was still covered in snow, but near the 12,000 foot pass, the water cascading down this alluvial fan was a little lighter than the near flood levels of the rivers below.

Back down in Lyons, I was immersed in the comptitions. Fortunately, I had enough sense to keep out of the boater-cross this year, as one competitor finds out while getting hit in the face….with a boat!

A picture Monique shot of me practicing in the feature on the St. Vrain river, below flower-filled bluffs.

Another rough end to a boater-cross competitor.

Kayaker sprawl. Don’t worry, we left no trace.

Fast forward 10 years and Dan and I are again in a muddy pit, surrounded by bones. Only this time, they are the giant bones of an extinct Columbian Mammoth, found by a curious farmer in an artichoke field in Castroville, CA. The farmer was grading a wall for irrigation when his grader uncovered what he thought was granite. Being a curious and intelligent fellow, and knowing that granite does not belong in the coastal farmlands, he got off his grader for a closer look. By pure coincidence, this farmer had always been interested in bones, even as a child. He once toyed with going into archeology, but the tug of the family farm kept him in the fields. In short order, he recognized the porous white substance as bone and called the local university.  Many farmers would have plowed this right under, recognizing the halt it would put in their work and planting while excavation work was under way. This fellow thought the experience of finally getting to live some of his childhood dreams was worth the potential hassle. Now he spends his days in the pit, carefully dusting off bones with sponge brushes, or straining buckets of dirt through a wet-screen searching for pieces of bone or tusk missed during the initial excavation and bringing his family through to share in the experience. His nieces were there taking pictures, cataloging bones and gathering material for what I’m sure, is going to be the best science project in the local 8th grade class. More details on Columbian Mammoths after the pictures.

The town of Castroville. Artichoke capital of California. Now home to Mammoths.

Panoramic view of the excavation site in an artichoke field.

This is a composite from about 100 separate images of the dig site.

Dan helps volunteers clean some of the larger pieces.

Dan does some detailed clearing around a mammoth tooth.

Different layers in the soil where the farmer was clearing when he found the mammoth bones.

Wet screening can be cold on a windy day. Volunteers search the clay soil for missed pieces of bone and tusk.

Boss-man Dan.

A mammoth molar, one tooth, nearly 8 inches.

One of the mammoth tusks.

Interior view of the mammoth tusk.

Keep away from Jason's diggins.

The people involved are at risk of mammoth fever.

Columbian Mammoths (Mammuthus columbi) are effectively “North American Mammoths.”  M. columbi is thought to have evolved from an earlier Old World species: Mammuthus trogontherii (the Steppe Mammoth).  In Eurasia the same ancestor, M. trogontherii, evolved into M. primigenius (the Wooly Mammoth), which later also migrated into North America.
The range of M. primigenius (the Wooly Mammoth) and the range of M. columbi (the Columbian Mammoth) overlapped in some areas of North America; but M. columbi extended as far south as Mexico and Nicaragua, while M. primigenius remained in the more northerly latitudes.  For the most part, both of these species appear to have gone extinct some time around 12,500 – 9,000 years ago. However, researchers have become aware of several small remnant populations on Wrangell Island in the Bering Straits and also on the Santa Barbara Channel Islands; these populations appear to have continued for several thousand more years before they too became extinct.