Adventure Sizing

Time in nature is important for everyone. It doesn’t require a long trip. It doesn’t require a canoe. It doesn’t require fancy camping gear. It doesn’t even require much knowledge, although all these things help.

When I’ve had time to post lately I’ve been posting photos from multi-week expeditions in remote locations that not a lot of people get to experience. These adventures have been really exciting for me and have helped me develop my outdoor skills. This spring, I’ve been leading week-long canoe trips for high school students, enabling them to see places and have experiences that they wouldn’t get to normally. And I’m convinced these are all good things.

But for most of us, taking a week off work is tough. And figuring out how to acquire camping gear, a canoe, and the knowledge to safely paddle a river is often unrealistic. To experience the outdoors, you don’t need these things. My hope for the high school students I’m leading on trips is that they will gain an appreciation for spending time outside, not just on trips.

I live in Edmonton, and though I rarely post pictures from here, I run through the forest in the river valley close to my home every week. This is an essential dose of nature for me that anyone can experience. Our trails in the river valley in Edmonton are great and everyone here has access to them!

If you have a car, Elk Island National Park is an easy place to get to for an evening walk or picnic (or try Cooking Lake Recreation Area if you don’t want to pay the National Park fees). All these photos are from a two hour walk in Elk Island. This time and nature is no less valuable than weeks in the wilderness. It does the same thing for me – it renews my sense of wonder and joy.

I hope everyone reading this takes the time to enjoy nature in the next week, even if it’s just a short walk in your local park. This still counts as an adventure!

Plants: Wild Mint

I thought people might find it interesting to see some of the plants I regularly come across while hiking. This is wild mint. It is usually found in damp or swampy areas. Sometimes I smell it before I see it but it is especially potent when you pick a leaf and crunch it up under your nose. It is sometimes hard to see from a distance because it is usually shorter than the reeds or grass surrounding it. You can identify it by the smell, but to make sure it’s actually mint, check that it has a squarish stem and the leaves are on opposite sides of the stem. It makes a very nice tea!

Taken near Crimson Lake, AB
40mm, f2.8, 1/60 of a second

Trip Guiding

For the first part of this summer, I put my outdoor experience to work guiding groups of students in our beautiful Rocky Mountains. I loved the opportunity to share the challenges and beauty of the outdoors with these students. The people I was working with are amazing and made the whole experience a lot of fun! But guiding is busy and constant work and helping others enjoy nature is not conducive to finding peaceful moments myself. As guides we are always the last to bed and the first to wake up, and these are the times when we’re most likely to be able to take a little bit of time to just enjoy being.

This is one moment, early in the morning beside the North Saskatchewan River between Nordegg and Rocky Mountain House. It may look like a peaceful moment, but really I was sprinting around with my camera because the light was so amazing and I had to start making breakfast and pack up before the students woke up.

25mm, f6.3, 1/400 of a second

Backpacking

Hiking Up Towards Allstones LakeEnjoying the View of Abraham LakeHaving Supper at Allstones Lake

An eight day backpacking trip concluded our epic August adventure. After learning to do a bit of map and compass work, we set off all together on a sunny hike up to Allstones Lake. Our packs were heavy with food for our 8 day trip. The first part of the hike is well known and the trail well-travelled, so while we could learn how to navigate with map and compass, we didn’t need to. We got to Allstones with time to set up our tarps, filter some water, and make some supper before dark. Our bearhangs (rope systems to hang all our food between trees so bears can’t get at them) took a little longer and we finished them off in the dark with headlamps.

Allstones Lake at Night

Then we all crawled into our sleeping bags under our tarps for what would turn out to be a miserable night. It was clear when we went to sleep, but a storm rolled in overnight and it started raining and blowing really hard. Our tarp was open at both ends and I was sleeping on the outside. My sleeping bag got pretty wet and I got pretty cold. This set the tone for the rest of the trip. The morning dawned, cold, dark, and rainy. We made breakfast, ate, and packed up as quickly as we could.

Cold Wet Morning at Allstones

This was the first day our small group was alone. We were meeting up with everyone else at a pre-determined location on the map. There were no more trails and the trees were thick, making landmarking difficult. To add to this, the clouds were low, and often we couldn’t see any mountains, even when the trees thinned out. The rain was cold and constant, finding a way through all our waterproof layers. We quickly switched from navigating by landmarks to dead reckoning (going a specific compass direction). We tried to gauge our distance by the number of drainages we passed through, but we didn’t know our exact elevation and the number of drainages on the map varied depending on the elevation.

Trying to Navigate

We debated where we were quite a bit, pointing out hills in the distance, and the direction of creeks we crossed. Eventually we got to an open mountainside where we could see more than one landmark at once. We debated, ended up with two possibilities of where we could be, with most of us being pretty sure of one. But on a day when we were all cold, wet, and miserable, with darkness starting to loom, we thought we better be sure. We took out the GPS and confirmed our guess. We were where we thought we were, but we still had a ways to go. We eventually found the right drainage to walk down, followed the swampy, willowy valley, and ended up close to our campsite. We were all soaked, although hiking had kept us warm up to this point.

River Crossing Near Camp

As we got into camp though, the cold started creeping in and we started slowing down. As we tried to set up the tarp with shaking, numb fingers, others in our group searched for less-damp wood with which to start a fire. Nothing was dry. Through chattering teeth, we made sure everyone had their tasks, and we set about doing the chores of the evening. Somehow we managed to get the tarp set up, a fire made, and supper cooked. We changed into drier clothes and tried to warm up.

Trying to Warm Up

By then it was dark, and we needed sleep. We crawled into our sleeping bags and slept extra close that night. Morning came. It was still drizzling, on and off. Most of our gear was wet, but there was nothing to be done about it, so we packed up and headed out. Our route for the day was pretty clear – we would follow a valley through a low pass, and then once the ground leveled out we would head straight north. The day was a little less wet than the day before, our route a little clearer, and our group’s spirits were high. We even saw blue sky for a few minutes before it clouded over again.

Dead Reckoning Through Mossy ForestThe Littlehorn RiverOld Man's Beard

This time we were one of the first groups to camp, and we had a little bit of time to relax in addition to all the evening chores. We got our tarp set up early with drying lines underneath. There was a good gravel bar for a kitchen beside the Bighorn River. The sun came out a bit that evening, and we found out we would have a layover day to dry out our gear. We went to bed happy, if not especially warm.

Cooking Supper

The next day was full of drying gear, learning to identify plants, journaling, and talking with other groups we had barely seen in a few days.

Cooking SupperMorning LightCampfireGroup PortraitTarp ShelterDrying Gear

Then it was time for our small group to head off on our own for a couple days. We picked our route and our campsite for the next night, said goodbye to our home for the last day and a half, and headed out.

Littlehorn and Bighorn Confluence

Despite regular intervals of rain, the fact that there was any sun at all made us pretty happy and the day started out great! We had a long hike ahead of us, but there was a lake at the end of it, and hiking together as a group was a silly and fun affair. At lunch we took off our boots, dried out our feet, and basked in a half hour of sun. It was glorious. After lunch we skipped through meadows, making up songs accompanied by harmonica.

Hiking Through Meadows

However, the meadows turned into swamp. The songs turned to blues. The skipping turned to slogging. The rest of the day was pushing through mossy swamps up to our knees, briefly climbing steep hills only to find we had to go back down into the swamp. We were soooo happy to finally see the lake.

Chad Admiring the Lake

We had a relaxing evening at the lake and slept in the next morning. We woke up to sun for the first time (actually the only time) that trip and water quietly lapping at the shore. We had a leisurely breakfast, packed up, and headed out, changing our route slightly to not lose as much elevation. Crossing the valley above the lake was less swampy than we were worried about. We headed up a south-facing slope of thin pines to gain the ridge and head to our next camp to see everyone again. The hiking was quick and fun, but fallen trees soon slowed us down. It took us longer than expected to get to the next camp, with a steep, mossy decent on the north side of the ridge. After a steeper-than-hoped-for slide down to the river, we crossed and found camp.

Crossing the River

It was really good to see the group again. There were hugs, high fives, and stories all around. For the rest of the trip, we would all hike together. We had a good supper with burnt pudding for desert, which kind of tasted horrible but because it was chocolate and we were camping, it was good.

Pudding Desert!

The next morning we all packed up as a large group and started climbing.

Packing Up

We quickly gained the ridge and had great views. We even got a spot of sun during lunch. But lunch got cut short as clouds started rolling in.

View from the RidgeFog in the Valley

We hiked to another small peak in the rain and fog, and then sat down for an appropriately cold reflection on our trip.

Hiking Through the Fog

After climbing down in a cold, cutting rain, we found another soggy campsite and had a great evening with the group. We had a potluck and skits or songs from each group, and then climbed under our tarps for the last time. The next morning we packed up and bushwhacked out the last few kilometers to the road where a few people hitchhiked back to get a vehicle.

Annoying WillowsCrossing Again

And that’s how it ended, as all trips do, with a “Oh, I guess it’s done. What now?”

Updates are Few and Far Between

Why have the updates been so slow this summer and fall? There are many reasons, but one of the main ones is that I’ve taken on a large graphic design project with Alieo Games, an Edmonton startup working on educational games. Specifically (at the moment), an online creative writing game for kids. And it’s been a lot of fun. I’m really happy with how it’s shaping up, and I’m working with great people!

But even an exciting project like this can not stop my photography. It has, however, cut down on my computer time for processing pictures and blogging, and I’m not planning on doing any shows this Christmas. If you’re looking for prints, you’ll have to email me, talk to Tix on the Square, or the Daffodil Gallery. So the backlog of pictures is growing on my computer, and I’m excited to share them with you as I get to them.

I’ll try to post when I can, and I expect things will pick up around here again next year.

12mm, f5, 1/500 of a second

Composition Consistency

In a lot of ways these photos could not be more different. The top one was taken at Beaverhill Lake, which at this point is a big marshy field in the prairies. The bottom was taken near the Saskatchewan Glacier in the mountains. The top was taken in spring, the bottom one in fall. The top is macro, the bottom is a landscape.

But when I was developing the top one today, my mind immediately went to this bottom photo that I took four years ago. The tones of the images help to group them, but what really strikes me is the similarity of composition. Both are triangles with the base at the bottom of the photo. They both have interesting lines thrusting up at angles through the frame.

When I’m composing an image, I don’t often consciously think about what to call a composition or what photo it will be like. I’m usually trying to balance the elements in the frame once an interesting line catches my eye. After the fact, when I’m looking through my images though, I start to notice themes. In some ways I like this — consistency is good. But I also don’t want to overuse themes and become boring. It’s a constant struggle of evaluation, and I probably overthink it. But it’s something I’ve noticed and thought was kind of interesting.

The Unexplored Magic of Swamps

Mountains, forests, lakes and oceans — these are the classic beautiful landscapes. Add a sunrise or sunset and you’ve got a good chance at a first rate photo. But where is the love for swamps? Or maybe “marshes” would be a more palatable word? They do have mud, insects, unexpected puddles and chest-high grasses, but they’re so full of mystery and character that their trials only strengthen their appeal.

This is a marsh near the North Thompson River, early in the morning before the sun rose. The air was still and the fog muffled the faint sounds of the world waking. I hope you can almost feel the damp, cool air on your skin and hear the heavy silence of the morning.

150mm, f6.3, 1/320 of a second