Summer Photography Workshop

If you are interested in expanding your knowledge of camera functions and nature photography, I am offering a class on Saturday, June 25 from 9 am to 5 pm at the Eagle River Nature Center.  The first two hours will be spent in a classroom setting, where we will learn how to shoot in manual mode, we will then go outside for the rest of the day to put these principles to use in the field. Cost is $95 and limited to the first ten people who register. Please call the Nature Center at (907) 694-2108 to sign up.

Cheers,

Colin

Grizzly Discovery

Spring reveals many things, including Mother Nature’s brutal side. If you pay attention to details, the forest floor often tells stories of seasons past, this was the case today when I discovered the remains of what appears to have been a good-sized brown/grizzly bear. Judging from how the skull had been absorbed into the earth and moss, this bear met its match a number of years ago, probably the result of fighting with another bear. Based upon the way in which the bones were scattered about, it’s also quite possible that it was cannibalized by its assailant, and so goes the circle of life.

Golden Hour

Capturing the golden hour requires more than just showing up at the right time of day. You have to pick the right day, during the right time of year, when the atmospheric elements combine to create a quality of light so warm and soothing that it actually nourishes. So much that suddenly it’s approaching 10 pm and you realize that you haven’t eaten dinner, and despite your intentions of being home earlier in the evening to try and accomplish any number of tasks, somehow you just couldn’t pull yourself away from the light.

 

Earth Day 2016

"This life ends where the world begins, if you see things now through a different lens. When you lose it all, that's when you'll win again. Chasing light, all my life, chasing light." (CTB)

Happy Earth Day 2016. This day will always hold special meaning to me, the day my life changed forever. Three years ago today my world turned upside down, the life I knew was gone in an instant. To honor this date, I went for a long hike into the backcountry - more than 20 miles - with no real agenda or goal in mind other than to appreciate the beauty that lies out my back door and reflect on the fateful day that, while devastating initially, ultimately opened up new and wonderful opportunities I'd only dreamed of.

While on my hike, I decided to search for this legendary cabin that lies far off the grid, hidden in a stand of cottonwood and spruce trees. It took some time but I found it. Success - I explored new territory and found the little cabin but most of all, I took time to reflect on the inherent beauty often reveals itself in the darkest of times. Full story below:

From Ashes to Adventure, One year in this Big, Giant Life

Spring Moose

Most mornings I hike out to the same spot on Eagle River, splash some cold glacial water on my face, look up the valley and take a few deep breaths. I like to start my day with a bit of solitude, surrounded by mountains. I must have been especially quiet today because this bull moose walked right up the trail and past me into the river. I had to back up just to fit it into my frame. He's already got 6-7" of new antler growth. During the height of summer, moose antlers can grow up to an inch per day.

More Eagle Summit Aurora

There is nothing quite like witnessing the aurora borealis under crystal clear skies near the Arctic Circle, where the stars are big and bright. Here's one of my favorites from last Tuesday night/Wednesday morning at Eagle Summit, Alaska. There was no light pollution whatsoever, and not one vehicle passed by while we were out there.

Road Trippin' to Fairbanks

Yesterday was a beautiful day for a road trip to Fairbanks, so I had to make a detour into Denali National Park on the way, where I came upon this antler-less bull moose browsing. He should be growing a new set of antlers anytime now.

Let's hope the aurora/weather forecast holds true while I'm in Fairbanks this week, tomorrow night could be good!

April Aurora Class

Finally getting around to posting a photo from Saturday night's aurora photography class - I was on the road much of yesterday and arrived in Fairbanks last night. We had intermittent clear skies with a bit of aurora glowing behind the clouds. Everyone got photos and hopefully learned a few things in the process. Participants, feel free to share your photos in the comments.

Let's hope the aurora/weather forecast holds true while I'm in Fairbanks this week, tomorrow night could be good!

Reflecting on Twenty Years

 

Exactly twenty years ago today, April 1, 1996, I packed my Toyota pickup to the gills and began the journey north, to Alaska. Fresh out of college with a head full of dreams and infinite naivety, I’m not sure what I was searching for exactly, other than adventure and new experiences. What I discovered among the glaciated mountains, oceans, and vast wild space was inspiration like I’d never known. Driving across northern Canada, as the topography transformed, becoming increasingly dramatic, and the mountains grew taller, that inspiration was overwhelming, forcing me to pull over several times each day to pen the thoughts and poetic lines that seemed to flow without effort, almost involuntarily.

After a week of driving, I arrived in Anchorage on a more somber note, thoroughly disappointed that the trip was over. The anticipation and the curiosity, the promise of a new life in the Last Frontier, ignited an urge to continue exploring which, I suppose, explains how I got to where I am today. I had initially come to Alaska to complete an internship for a degree in psychology, but the purpose of my journey was far more significant, and it didn’t take long to realize that a career in human services wasn’t for me. Later that same year, the camera found me, as I like to say, and my path was forever changed.

In the fall of 1999, I moved back to Minnesota and soon found that the adage is true - once you move away you can’t ever truly go home again. Alaska was forever under my skin, there was no denying it, and in 2007, an opportunity arose for me to reestablish myself in the 49th state. I have been here since. Looking back on the past two decades, I’ve had some big ups and downs, and somehow I keep coming out on top. I’ve survived a bush plane crash, been chased by a few bears, underwent spinal surgery and escaped a house fire that destroyed nearly everything I owned. In the end, it only strengthened my resolve to continue to explore and share the magic of my experiences through photographs and words. Now in my forties, I look at the young, bearded man in the photo holding his first king salmon and instantly recognize the wanderlust and youthful exuberance that has come full circle and is stronger than ever. The beard, now infiltrated by shades of salt & pepper, has remained and serves as a proud reminder of how I earned each and every one of my grey hairs. I wouldn’t change a thing if I could; it’s been beautiful ride, and while I have no idea what the next 20 has in store, I can promise it will be anything but mundane.

Colin

 

 

 

Under the Ice Bridge

I did some more exploring under the river ice last week. This time I found a tunnel that was very much still intact. Once again, I had to go in barefooted as the water was too deep for my rubber boots. I set up in the mouth of the tunnel to capture the swift moving river under the sheet of ice. The water was thigh deep, cold and running fast, yet somehow calming.

Going the Extra Mile

Yesterday I walked a few miles along the river, examining the receding ice. My goal was to document the changes and, more specifically, take a close look under the ice bridges, most of which have collapsed by now. I found this bridge intact with rushing water directly below and a nice view of the valley in the background, the only issue being that the water was too deep for my Xtra Tough rubber boots. Determined to get the shot and set up just above the surface of the water, I removed my boots, pants, and thermal layer and waded into the icy water barefooted, repeatedly telling myself that it really isn’t that cold. In the end, it really wasn’t too bad and I came away with a unique perspective of the river and the valley.