Monthly Archives: March 2021

March 22, 2021 Hello, Old Friend

I managed to squeezed in a good 4 hours of sleep despite trying to discern the decibels of the wind gusts and determine if it was going to die down. Around 1:30am, the wind finally stopped. The moon was setting, excitement ensued. I tried sleeping for another 2 hours, but was wide awake by 3 am.

I swiftly got out of my sleeping bag and slipped on my winter jacket. There it was, the arc of the Milky Way. Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you. It was amazing stillness again, nothing but a dove’s call and not a hint of wind. I set up my camera and stared above at the vast expanse of stars, again proving my insignificance in this universe.

The forecast showed a low of 37F, which I didn’t think was too bad. It was actually 32F. My star tracker kept showing the low battery icon despite a full charge. My external battery had probably less than 10% so it was a miracle it lasted right up until the crack of dawn. By then my body was at the point of uncontrolled shivers. I finished the last exposures, quickly jumped back into the car and tossed both blankets over myself. I awoke at 6:53am, a minute after sunrise, to the first light on the Sierra and Mt Whitney through my windshield. What a feeling.

This trip embodied my philosophies to photography and life: no expectations, in search of novelty, it’s all about the shot, its all about the shot, and convenience isn’t free. It felt amazing to disconnect and just observe the world in front of you. Driving on new roads again shows how much of my own state I haven’t even explored yet. Now the only thing I can think about is when to go back.

The same feeling of excitement from the week before was still going strong in me. 1200 miles later, I’m still holding on to that feeling.

March 21, 2021

I got up right at sunrise, checked out and hit the road. I filled the gas tank at Ridgecrest and headed east. I always love new roads. My eyes are constantly scoping out new locations for photos or cool spots to stop and explore. I passed by Trona Pinnacles and the mineral mines. As I drove north on 178, two F15s did three low passes right over me. Then I hit a fork in the road, with both signs leading to Death Valley. At first instinct, I pulled out my phone for directions, only to find out there was no service and the map wouldn’t load. I decided took the road that seemed less traveled and had no idea where it was taking me. As the road lead through a narrow canyon and riddled with potholes. No service, no maps. I asked a passerby and he gladly explained what was up ahead, follow signs for Furnace Creek. 

Not long after, I made it through the entrance of Death Valley National Park. We made it! Finally! There’s no comparable feeling to seeing the places on Google Maps and actually experiencing it in real life. I spent the next four hours stopping by all the iconic spots, Mesquite Flat Sand Dunes, Artist Drive, Badwater Basin, etc. 

The desert wind suddenly picked up right after the lunch hour. I checked the forecast for Inyo county, and it looked like it was going to turn for the worst, with 30 mph gusts. I told myself Friday that I was 100% committed to this trip, so I was going to risk it. I wanted to stay and explore more, but with daylight fading, I had to call it quits at 3pm and make the drive over to Alabama Hills. 

I arrived at Lone Pine late afternoon and drove by large sign for Alabama Hills. The wind wasn’t as bad as I thought. Scouting around for a good spot to sleep that had some kind of wind blockage, I followed Movie Road to an arch I wanted to shoot sunset at. I parked at a large pullout which also looked great for Milky Way with a clear view easterly right before a steep dirt section which I worried my 2WD might get stuck in. Better safe than sorry. The wind was still gusting into the night but the hourly forecast showed it was supposed to subside in the early morning hours. Maybe worst case I have to use the car as shelter, or just accept the fact that nature is unpredictable. 

March 20, 2021 Wake Up and Go

With the weekend fast approaching, I had to pick a destination since I took Monday off. This time, instead of opening 50 tabs and stressing myself out over where is best, I listened to my inner self and committed to a new location down south. The goal was Milky Way Sunday night at Alabama Hills and everything else will be a bonus. Usually Milky Way is best starting in May, I knew I had to get up really early. My only concern was giving up sleep, and sleeping in the car means tossing and turning all night. I have been scoping this location on google maps last year, but with the Sierra passes still closed for the season, it was going to be a lengthy eight hour drive. But then I asked myself, if not now, then when? It was time to wake up and go. I decided to split it up over 3 days, as the most I have driven is 6 hours in a day. I also wanted to go to Death Valley for years but never made it there. As this was the last month of pleasant temperatures there, my goal was to to just use my annual pass and enter the park, that was it. 

The 7 hour drive today felt like nothing. The contrast between sitting stationary all week and speeding down an open highway was invigorating. I didn’t get much sleep the past week, but for some reason my mind was racing with excitement, adventure. An open mind, open heart. I spent the late afternoon exploring Red Rock Canyon State Park and taking my ‘foreground’ shots. With the desert wind howling I couldn’t stay long. I headed early into the small town of Inyokern and stayed the night at a very nice motel. 

March 7, 2021 There it is!

Parrot Waxcap (Gliophorus psittacinus)

With what may be the last rain for the winter, I thought I wouldn’t be able to find the parrot waxcap this season. When I first started taking photos of mushrooms this year, I was immediately jealous of this shot by WildMacro. He mentioned it took 3 years to find it. It’s elusive nature definitely did not get my hopes up of finding it especially for an amateur like me. Despite persistent searching up and down the coast the past two months, I didn’t find it, until today. 

Like I tell myself every weekend, I had a choice, stay comfortably at home, or go somewhere. Again, the uncertainty was killing me. Were there going to be mushrooms 24 hours after a decent rain? Did it rain enough? Oh great, a frost advisory. That’s not good. How far should I drive? Being an optimizer, I always have a hard time committing to a location; the paradox of choice. I narrowed my choices down to two, shut down the computer and used my intuition. 

The ground was definitely wet with damp moss redwood duff. It felt very “mushroomy”, just like how a beach would feel “fishy”. I found a few wax caps early on, one had almost a greenish cap. Could this be a parrot? How am I supposed to find a green mushroom in a forest of green? It was a needle in a haystack, only the needle is the same color as the hay. The others around were more yellow and brown, keep looking. A feeling of excitement came to me as that was the closest I’ve been to finding the mushroom. Two hours in, I didn’t find much other than some nice golden waxcaps and purple Mycena that was past its prime. As I approached a bridge to the waterfall connector trail, I spotted in the corner of my eye, a round, slimy, green colored mushroom. There it is! With mushrooms, you find one and suddenly you discover a whole cluster. I lost track of time as I spent the next hour cleaning and photographing the parrots, at times I simply just stared at it. It was really that green, nothing like I’ve seen before. 

With fishing, you never know if one more cast will be the one. With mushrooming, you never know if 10 more steps will uncover something. That’s what keeps me excited, the unknown, the suspense, the chance you may discover something totally unexpectedly. 

Lilac Bonnet (Mycena pura)

Alpine Jelly Cone (Guepiniopsis alpina)

Boulder Fall. March 2021