September 21, 2021 Feels Like Fall

Feels Like Fall. September 2021

After one of the gloomiest summers ever, Karl the Fog finally decided to leave town in the midst of the night.

You know it is the first day of fall (or start of summer in SF) when the daily high temperature rises above 70F along the coast and there is not a cloud in the sky. The first ground swell showed up along with the first offshore wind of the season; surfers racing to the get their session in before the work day.

It was a magical morning with the dawn color palette, the moon setting right at sunrise, pelican formations, and spotting fickle a-frames. I remember when I was back in high school, the best weather would always coincide with the first week of school and all I wanted to do was be at the beach. Luckily working from home today, I got to witness the lunch time glass off and then enjoy the evening dolphin show.

There’s no place like home.

September 11, 2021

Star Party. September 2021

After a whole month of staying home, I feel completely stagnant; losing motivation to do work but can’t find enough motivation to change my routine.

The smoke finally cleared this weekend for a chance of Milky Way. With the coast too risky due to the lingering fog bank, we headed south to Pinnacles National Park.

Driving on the highway and looking at distant subjects and framing compositions, I felt a sense of calmness. Hiking through the chaparral, hearing the crickets chirp, feeling the warm breeze, and seeing sunset colors made me appreciate again what the great outdoors has to offer.

As we were waiting the moon to set, we met other star gazers in the parking lot. A special thank you to Jim and Alex for letting us peer into their telescope setups. I saw the rings of Saturn, Jupiter and its orbiting moons, M22, and other star clusters. I felt like I was five years old again, peering through a telescope in my backyard at the moon and realizing how much I love astronomy.

I’m reminded again that inspiration is out there if you just go.

August 28, 2021

In The Distance. August 2021

August 2, 2021

Breathe. August 2021

July 26, 2021

After tossing and turning all night long from not showering after a long sweaty hike, I woke up to mostly cloudy skies. The sky looked bleak, thick clouds accompanying the already hazy atmosphere. As I left the campsite, I saw a large thunderhead to the north, which was where I was headed. I contemplated again, should I head home early or keep going? No cell service so I couldn’t check any forecasts. Well, I’ve driven this far, might as well try.

As I drove north into the storm, the sun hid behind the clouds and it started to downpour. By some miracle when I got to Burney Falls, it mostly sunny skies with just a few high clouds. I waited for the sun to be at a higher angle to illuminate the bright blue water. My eyes lit up looking at the blue glow on my dome port with plentiful trout at the base of the falls. That glow, just wow.

Life is all about taking risks. If you don’t take risks, you can’t have fun. Maybe 1 out of 100 trips for me was a waste of time but I would only consider it a waste of time if I didn’t learn anything. It’s always better to go and potentially get skunked than to not go and regret it later. You won’t know unless you go. Sometimes you’ll score and the opportunity may never return again.

600 miles
1 wet wetsuit
No expectations.

July 25, 2021 Risk It

Last year, I had to cancel my trip to Butte Lake due to wildfires. I re-booked it again for this September but the outlook for wildfires is not looking good this year either unfortunately, with several large fires already happening. A campsite opened up last week so I thought I would go this weekend in case I had to call off my September trip, again.

Well, even the early bird may not get the worm. The AQI on airnow.gov showed ‘unhealthy’ for today. The forecast looked to improve but judging by the webcams, it was going to be smoky. Was it going to be completely smoked out? Should I cancel? I was still debating at 10am.

Forfeit and stay home
Stop contemplating and just go

I hit the road. Ah, the open highway takes away some of my anxiety from the work week. It was hazy skies up north but still plentiful sunlight. It wasn’t until I headed east on 44 it started to get dense.

After about 5 hours of driving, I arrived late afternoon. As expected, super smoky skies, but hey could be worse. Despite the questionable air quality, I started the Cinder Cone hike from my campsite which was luckily adjacent to the trail. After hiking through the forest, I saw the cinder cone, an ash volcano. It immediately brought me back memories to Cerro Negro in Nicaragua; I imagined myself sand boarding down the steep slope.

It didn’t take me long to hike up, despite the infamous two steps forward, one step back. I was the lone soul at the top. For the next 3 hours, there was nothing but the sound of the wind and static on my radio from the Inspiration Point repeater. I was running around the cone looking for the best compositions as the sun turned into an orange sphere. Even through the haze, I still got some decent shots of the Painted Dunes. I managed to finish the 4 mile loop and make it back to the campsite just before it got completely dark.

July 18, 2021 The Universe

I made it to Old Ski Bowl at 11pm, the end of Everitt Memorial Highway that climbs Mt Shasta. It was much more devoid of campers compared to last year as I was the lone car on the side of the road. No company for tonight but I’ll take it. Again, I had to process that I was here almost exactly one year ago, chasing the moon light.

The moon was still glaring but I could see the galactic dust of the Milky Way. I knew my window of opportunity was going to be moonset to the crack of dawn, about 1am to 4:50am. I decided to try and nap just to pass some time and avoid the pesky mosquitoes, but also so I wouldn’t feel languid on the drive back home.

My alarm sounded at 12:45am. I noticed the moon about to set and the Milky Way core getting brighter; I jumped out of my car in excitement and started setting up the camera. I stood in the dark and cold for the next several hours, treated to a spectacular display of the celestial sky: the moon, the planets and stars. The waxing moon turned deep orange as it set over the horizon, reminiscent of a sunset due to wildfire smoke. I witnessed airglow and several meteors, one with a fiery tail that left me breathless. It felt serene to gaze up at the stars above and the flickering lights from human activity below.

Looking down on the world makes me realize how small and insignificant humanity’s problems have become in comparison. Even I find myself sucked into the affairs of society and caught up in degenerate matters from time to time; I’m still human. Why should we spend so much of our limited attention involving ourselves in things that do not matter in the grand scheme of the universe? After all, I’m only on this planet for several decades at most compared to the celestial bodies that are billions of years old.

I’m reminded by the infinite amount of stars that there is always something greater than us.

600 miles
3 hours of sleep
I belong here.

July 17, 2021 Rituals

July 5, 2021 Rituals

Fly Catcher 2. July 2021

I awoke at 5:47am to first light on the tallest crags. I tried to close my eyes and sleep for another hour, but I wanted to get to May Lake as earliest as possible to see if the trout were feeding. I also noticed an unnerving amount of flying insects inside and outside of my car; it was time to drive to the trailhead.

I told myself I was going stay for a maximum of 2 hours and leave by 10:30am so I didn’t have to sit in traffic. I should have known though, as every time I visit here I never want to leave.

When I first got to the lake, I didn’t notice much fish activity. There was a slight texture on the lake due to a light breeze, which wasn’t a good sign since the flies need calmness if they were to hang around the water. I stood silently and observed but had to dodge the mosquitoes that were swarming my face and avoid the sneaky marmot that almost stole my breakfast out of my backpack. It took intense concentration to train my eye to spot the trout through the reflectivity of the water surface and to patiently pinpoint the moth or dragonfly flying over the water in an erratic motion.

After 2 hours of mis-shots, it happened. In a split second, I traced a trout adeptly swimming through the water and snatching a moth in mid air a few yards away from me. Yes!! I wanted to scream in excitement as I saw the photo on the back of the camera. I stayed another hour trying to get another shot, but it proved too difficult. I really didn’t want to leave, but it was 11:30am and I had to call it quits; we’ll be back.

Despite only getting 3 hours of sleep, I somehow made the 5 hour drive back home just thinking about that shot.

500 miles
3 hours of sleep
Tired but happy.

Fly Catcher. July 2021

July 4, 2021

Tioga Nights. July 2021

I was indecisive as usual this weekend. I had four different potential locations in mind but couldn’t commit to any of them right away. After contemplating at forecasts again, I closed my eyes for a moment and used my intuition: Yosemite High Sierra. I was lucky enough to snag a day use reservation at the last minute.

I somehow ended up at the same exact location as last year, Doda Dome. It was deja vu to be there again, eating a cold sandwich for dinner and waiting for the sun to set. It took me a moment to process that I was standing here, exactly one year ago. Where did time go? The sky was almost free of clouds this time which allowed the alpenglow to project over Tuolumne Meadows and the surrounding peaks. I ran around the dome, switching lenses several times, framing foreground subjects but also the distant landscapes. The mosquitoes started to swarm me right at sun down even though I came prepared this time with layers, gloves, and 2 kinds of insect repellent. They were ruthless. I had to quickly get my photos and hike back to the car.

As the sky darkened, I had to look for a spot that was not obstructing the Milky Way but also not where car headlights could ruin my long exposures as it did last year. I stopped at a pull out looking south at Tioga Lake and knew this was going to be it. The highway was to the west, which I thought was annoying if people’s high beams would cause unnecessary localized light pollution, but it seemed to be the best bet of the night. At 10pm, the Milky Way had risen to the south but partially blocked by Mt Dana. This gave me some time to check my alignment with Polaris and also my settings. Starting at 11pm, it was prime time, pure darkness.

It felt amazing to stare up at the night sky. I never saw so many shooting stars before. All my problems and stress from the week disappeared for that evening and was overridden by sense of exuberance. There was no cell service, just me and Mother Nature, I love it.

I brought my winter gear knowing the overnight low was in the mid 40s. I did well up until 1:30am, when my body started to get chilly. It wasn’t long after until I noticed that my lens was fogging up. By then I was near shivering. I finished the last exposure around 2:30am and jumped into the car with both blankets over me. I was ready to get some shut eye but noticed several gnats and mosquitoes attracted to the car door light. I did not want a repeat of last year, where my left leg was swollen due to some bites, so I spent the next 15 minutes smashing the buggers with my hand.