Let me start off by saying that I’ve been a Toyota guy my whole life. My first truck was an ‘81 Toyota single cab; I built a rockcrawler ‘88 4runner, beat the crap out of a ‘90 Extended Cab and fell in love w/ my ‘98 Tacoma, which I had for well over 10 years.
With all of Escalante’s canyons, the best time of year to visit is in the spring or fall when the temperatures are not extreme, and the crowds are typically less. And out of those two seasonal options, my favorite time of year is late fall – specifically early November.
I recently had one of my all-time best days of shooting. And of course, I was alone. I endured freezing rain, massive, powerful gusts of wind and shivered until the night turned to light. If this sounds torturous… well, that’s because to some degree it was. But at the same time it was invigorating, it was exciting and when the darkest midnight hues warmed to light, baby blue, it can be more than worth it.
We woke up to the dark echoes of an unfamiliar sound. The canyon roared. Minds began racing; were we high enough? Were we going to need to attempt a scramble up the slick sandstone walls that with one slip would send us tumbling into the clutches of the infamous Death Hollow? Or were we going to escape dry, with the story of a lifetime?
On a recent hike into the high country near Aspen, Colorado, I was asked, “Aren’t you not supposed to shoot into the sun?” I didn’t really know how to respond, so I said that once rules are “mastered” they can be broken. But honestly, I’m not so sure I agree with that.
Together the ribbons of water, the tarnish on the cliff and the colorful leaves of fall have all the elements of a dream photograph. But each time I return home and begin editing, my mind starts spinning and I think, “I could have done more. Maybe if I moved an inch to the left I could have made the composition more balanced… Moved back and given the tree more breathing room… Opened the shutter for another 2 seconds…”.
For the most part, when I’m shooting in the canyons during the brightest times of the day, I avoid including the sky. The tonal range from the depth of the …
It’s May and summer was creeping through the grass. The air was heating up and the ground was beginning to crack. The last of spring showers were drizzling overhead and …
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