Ron Martin Wilderness Photography

The Mountain Goats of Weminuche Wilderness live year round above tree line.  The five areas I have encountered the mountain goats are all in Weminuche Wilderness. They are; Mountain View Crest, Chicago Basin, Vestal Basin, Pigeon and Turret Peak saddle, and the ridge top of Peak Three.

This first photo is from the ridge top of Peak Three. I may be the only person who has visited this place.  I camped there for two nights on two occasions. It is a difficult mountain to climb.  Loose rock on very steep slopes make it more dangerous to climb than the back side of Vestal Peak you see in the photo.  Mountain goats are wild animals that have an attraction to large none predator mammals who visit their high altitude domain.  It's like the bird on the back of the water buffalo.  The mountain goats are in need of salt.  They dread going down to tree line to get it. Predators can ambush them in the trees.

It can be a rare opportunity when a hiker or climber enters their domain.  In getting the photo, "Mountain Goats and Grenadier", the goats were distracted by my presence, or confident my presence would ward off predators.  Either way, they didn't notice the coyote crouched behind a boulder just 20 yards away.  When I noticed the coyote, the coyote then knew, I knew that it was there. Immediately after our eye contact, the coyote ran away.  It was amazing to watch it play out. There were two young goats in the herd that were born that spring.  They would be what the coyote could kill and carry. 

The largest male mountain goat can be about 400 lbs. As large any other wild mammals in this wilderness, except moose and elk.  To watch the goats roam and interact with each other is awesome. In the saddle between Pigeon and Turret Peaks a herd of 18 goat gathered around me, patiently waiting for some salt. I tried to deliver, but I was just too dehydrated.

In the last photo with the goats gathered at my tent, they discovered my late night deposit of salt(urine).

There is one place were the mountain goats will go below tree line, at least during the day.  It's Chicago Basin, why? Chicago basin get inundated with so many backpackers that the goats aren't too concern with day time predators. (Man has a way of naturally vacating any near by predators in Weminuche). So the goats go to camp sites when in need of salt.

A note of caution: A large male mountain goat killed a man in October 2014, in Washington state. It's not known as to why.

 

Ice Lake isn't a designated wilderness area but it should be. It is just three miles and 2,700 feet elevation gain, from trail head to the lakes. It gets a lot of visitors, an easy hike by San Juan Mountain standards.

Ice Lake and Island Lake are popular because they are stunning. The two large basins, Upper and Lower Ice Lake Basins, are very easy to hike and move about.  People of every age and fitness level attempt the hike.  The altitude claims it's victims.  I don't think anyone has ever died attempting the hike, but I've witnessed a few rescues.

People come for many different reasons. I've seen prayer groups and ceremonial washings.  Some just sit on the bank and meditate.  For many it's a place to bring the whole family and take a lot of photos.

When the weather report calls for monsoon rains, Ice Lake Basins get an extra helping.  Also during years of low moisture and other basins are low on blooms, Ice Lake Basins are the exception, covered with alpine flowers.

Coming to Ice Lake is a deviation from my usual trek to places rarely seen.  At least I am alone from late afternoon until morning, when the light for photos is the best. Not many people camp over night.

Chicago Basin is a popular destination, getting over 2,000 backpackers and climbers every summer (that number I got from a ranger in the basin).  That is enough vistors to alter the normal ways of nature.  An Example:

Predators are not hunting there during day time because of the high human presence.  Knowing this, the mountain goats will graze and search for salt below tree line.  Also they hardly have to "search for salt with all the people urinating near their camps.  Mountain goats usually must stay above tree line so they can spot predators from a distance.

The big attraction for climbers is the proximity of Chicago Basin to four peaks above 14,000 feet.  There are those that have a goal to climb all fourteeners in Colorado.  Nothing wrong with that, it is a great way to stay fit.

For other visitors, it's the sheer beauty of Chicago Basin.  Like a fairy tale mountain wonderland complete with white mountain goats roaming the meadows.  The goats like to watch people as much as people like to watch them. (see my mountain goat gallery page)   

The locations where I was perched to take these two panoramic photos, are to my knowledge the best places to watch the monsoon storms of Southwest Colorado. They are also the two places where I came closest to being struck by lightning.  Monsoon Storms occur all over the southwest in summer.  It is the warm moist air from around Baja California moving northeast, mixing with cooler dryer air over desert. 

It takes on a life of it's own when the warm moist air is suddenly push from 6,000 feet above sea level to 14,000 feet. Things can get crazy very fast. Clouds can form at such speed, it looks like a volcanic eruption.

It is my passion to be there, see it, photograph it. The power can hypnotize you.  But I know, it's like playing with explosives. With regard to lightning, standing on solid rock on mountain tops is standing in the line of fire.

When my Photographs are on display, I also display a short story that describes the location and how I got that photograph.  Here is the story that accompanies the forth photo on this page titled Grenadier Range.

If you can't recall seeing this impressive row of six peaks faces, known as "Grenadier Range", all in one photograph, it's because this photograph is the first.  Located in Weminuche Wilderness, these peaks are iconic in their representation of what makes Colorado such a great state.  They are photographed often, but never before, in this complete view.

After a thorough search that revealed no such photograph, on June 6th, 2013, I set out to climb 13,478 ft. "Peak Three", to photograph all 6 peak faces from base to summit.  Peak Three,  shaped like a capsized oil tanker, runs parallel to the Grenadiers with a quarter mile wide Vestal Basin in-between.  Steep and with very loose rock, Peak Three's summit is very rarely if ever climbed.

From the train stop at Elk Creek, I hiked 7 miles to the base of Peak Three, in Vestal Basin.  With a 55 lb pack, I started climbing the 1,200 ft. peak to the ridge top.  With about 50 feet left to climb, the rock gave way under me.  I caught my fall with a two finger hold, but unfortunately, tore two ligaments in my hand.  I managed to finish the climb.  An amazing view, but how the hell was I going to get down with one good hand.  I pitched my tent for a two night stay.  

The next day I photographed the Grenadiers when the predicted storm arrived.  Like an ocean wave, the fierce wind packed storm passed quickly.  I spent the remainder of that day searching for a better route down Peak Three.  There were no good options for a decent.  I thought about the many souls lost in these mountains and what brought their demise.  I wondered if I was headed for the same fate.

The morning of my down climb, I ate breakfast with a nervous and fearful stomach.  I packed up and headed to my chosen route, on the southeast side. It was steeper, with two cliff bands.  The rock, to my disappointment, was only marginally firmer.  There was a hundred ways to fall but I didn't.  Touching down on the sod of Vestal Basin brought euphoria.  Then I look at my injured hand I was forced to use on my decent.  The swelling had increased, taking the shape of a large lobster claw.  I kept moving and didn't stop until I came to a camping area just three miles from the train stop at Elk Creek.  Too exhausted to make camp, I just laid down on the ground tarp and used my pack for a pillow.                                                                    

I caught the train out at Elk Creek on June 8th.  I looked bad, left arm in a sling, bloody cuts and scratches on my arms and the side of my face.  

In the fall of 2014, the Colorado Artists Guild, selected this photograph to be displayed in Senator Michael Bennet's Washington D.C. office

Here the story of my second climb of Peak Three, when I photographed the sunrise and the mountain goats.

On August 15, 2015, I returned to the Grenadier Range in the Weminuche Wilderness to photograph a vision that had occupied a permanent space in my mind for some time. 

Lamentably, I had to return to a nightmarish, dangerous place to make this dream a reality: Peak Three.

After a three hour train ride from Durango to Silverton, I started at 11:00 AM at the Elk Creek and Colorado Trail intersection.  From there, I had until sunset to travel 7 miles from 8,000 ft. to 13,000 ft., carrying a 50 lb. pack (pack included full frame camera, 3 lenses, GoPro gear and 2 tripods), and negotiating the difficult (lack of any maintenance) Vestal Trail.  Crawling and climbing through the maze of dead trees was draining with no time to rest.

At the base of Peak Three, I stood before a steep, flat-topped ridge above tree line and faced the mountain of my fear.  

The 1,200 ft. slope consists of loose rock, the stuff I tore ligaments on my first accent. But on this second experience, I found a little better route. While climbing I encountered a herd of mountain goats grazing on patches of grass, on the steep alpine slope. The flat top meadow on Peak Three's summit is a dangerous place for them to graze.  Predators could chase down the young goats.  I was hoping my presence on the top meadow my reduce their fear of predators. 

After camping for the night, I rose in the morning to do what photographers like the least: wait. The sky was a flat blue all day.  My vision did not occur until the next day, when I thought I would have to evade a predicted storm and down climb the onerous, slippery rock that almost took my life the first time.  

Fortunately, a photogenic sky moved in, giving me an opportunity to shoot another panorama of the six Grenadier Peaks in a line across the Vestal Basin below.  After the sunrise on the summit of Peak Three, I sauntered over to my tent only to meet a herd of mountain goats.  Handheld, no tripod, rapid fire photo shooting ensued.  

The goats feasted on their alpine summer meadow.  I ran along the edge of the meadow and positioned myself so that the goats would be in the foreground of the Grenadiers.  A sun drenched Vestal Peak with three goats geometrically aligned fulfilled the vision I had imagined.  

The goats were unaware of a potential catastrophe that loomed around the corner.  Just as I finished my dream shot, only 20 yards away, beside a boulder, I saw a coyote.  Crouched, studying the goats.  The coyote saw me looking at it, and a half second later ran off before I could get a photo.  

I did get a photo of a lone male, bighorn sheep while shooting the goats.  All in 5 minutes time.  Enough time for worlds to occur in nature.   

After the shot, with adrenaline still pumping, storm clouds arrived.  The party on Peak Three was over.  I quickly packed it up and slowly descended.

I made a third trip to Vestal Basin in July 2016.  This time I didn't climb Peak Three.  I made camp on the other side and about 600 feet above the basin, next to Vestal Lake.  I camped for three nights.

On my first morning I headed south over the Vestal - Trinity Pass into Ten Mile Basin to photograph Balsam Lake.  The pass is very steep with, you guessed it, loose rock. I got my photo, but the difficult terrain kept me in a nervous state.  That trip took up most of my day.

The next day I really enjoyed.  Monsoon storms passing through creating many photo opportunities.  I photographed all day mostly shooting Vestal Peak, Vestal Lake and the Trinity Peaks.  Many times I did pause and look across the basin at Peak Three and the routes I climbed to make the ridge top.  It gave me a chill just looking at it.  It looked too steep to possibly climb.

The morning on the day of my return I had to pack it up early morning and make good time to insure getting back to the train stop on time.  It's a long hike from Vestal Lake.

Such a heavenly place, I hope I have the opportunity to go to the Grenadiers again.

The water at Lake Vallecito is a beautiful transparent aquamarine. And with Mount Silex and The Guardian overlooking it, creates a visual feast.

It is all at a price. Descending to the lake from the north is a steep down climb. I left the way I came so leaving was just as hard.  Hiking around the banks is rough going. Thick willow shrubs and talus is everywhere.

I camped on the south end of the lake, the only place to pitch a tent. Sunrise was calm, with the lake surface as smooth as glass.

I had the Lake on the north side of my tent and the tarn and view of Mount Silex on the south. It all kept me busy with my camera. The only way I could get the lake and Mount Silex together in a photo was to get it as I was climbing up the north side.

My arduous approach to Trinity Lake began on July 1, 2014, at a trailhead called Beartown, and required visionary route-finding.

Visiting Beartown (it isn't and never was a town) depends on the ability to navigate jeep roads with 4-wheel drive and high clearance vehicles.  But, even in my Rubicon, I still blew a starter fuse over the coarse of crossing two remote creeks.  After driving 15 miles of jeep road to Beartown, I arrived at the entrance of both the Continental Divide Trail and the Colorado Trail, which is also near Kite Lake.

The trail begins at 11,600 ft. elevation, and escalates northeast to 12,500 ft.  

At this point, I stayed on the Colorado Trail that turns east as it assents the Continental Divide Trail.  The view looking down the Elk Creek Basin is awesome.  From there, the Colorado Trail chases Elk Creek for a drop of 2,500 ft.

At 10,000 ft. elevation, on the Elk Creek (Colorado) Trail,  I was on the north side of the creek.  I precariously abandoned the trail, crossed the creek, and headed south, up an unnamed canyon between Peak One, Two and Three.

The route looked wild and almost unmanageable.  And this first impression was quickly confirmed.  It may have only been two and a half or three miles as the crow flies before I realized that I have trekked way less painful twelve mile trails.  After executing a class three climb, I finally got to Trinity Lake (12,165 ft.), and it was all I could do to set up camp and eat a meal.

Trinity Lake wasn't as spectacular as I had hoped.  Crystal clear, but without the tint I've been spoiled with.  No emerald, no turquoise.   Fortunately, Mount Silex, Storm King Peak and the view extending beyond the Vallecito Creek requited my disappointment.  When it comes to epic scenery, the Weminuche Wilderness never lets you down.

On the morning of my third day out, I left Trinity Lake, finding my way to the Vallecito Creek Trail.  The terrain became easier, but the route-finding turned labyrinthine.  Thick forest all around, with just a hunch as to the right way.  No hint of a trail.  I stayed on the north side of what I assumed was Trinity Creek, as tempting as it was to cross at one point.

Finally, I came to a beautiful waterfall . A hidden gem.  As I was photographing it, while on the other side of that creek with the waterfall above me, I saw two backpackers walking along the other side.

I yelled out above the sound of the waterfall, "Are you on the Vallecito Creek Trail?”

"Yes we are,” they answered.

Music to my ears.  It was good to be back on an established trail.  I made it back to my Jeep that afternoon.

Even though my jeep wouldn’t start, I wasn’t stranded in the woods.  Luckily, I parked my jeep front-end facing down and it had a manual transmission, so I roll-started it.  On my way back, I made sure I had enough speed to plow through the two deep creeks.  Without a winch, I ascertained that I would have been stuck for days before help would pass by.

This past summer I decided to do my longest trek.  In July 2016, I started from the Pine River Trail-head, which is one of the entries into Weminuche Wilderness.

I hiked along the gorgeous Pine River for eight miles. It is a placid river in some places, tempting me to take a swim.  It was my curiosity for what's ahead that kept me hiking. 

When I got to the fork with the Flint Creek, I turned north, heading up the Flint Creek Trail.  The trail takes you higher, about 2,500 feet or so.  As I got high enough to be in the spruce trees, I was shocked to see that any tree taller than 10 or 12 feet, was dead.  It is the bark beetle.  We have made the climate too warm and dry for the spruce to defend itself against the beetle.

Mile after mile, the same, death all around.  I moved as fast as I could.  I could only manage 18 miles on that first day.  I made camp just as it got dark.  I was exhausted.  I fell asleep still thinking of the dying forest around me.

The next morning I was hoping the forest could be healthy around Flint Lakes.  Moving slower this time, it took me almost half the day to get there.  There was no change for the better with the trees.  There was one lake above tree line, I camped there, hoping for some good photos. 

My feet were blistered, I would have to finish my trek in sandals.  I had gone 22 miles and had about 19 miles to go.  The terrain ahead would be more difficult.

The next morning, I headed for Rock Lake.  I found a high perch above Rock Lake, near the pass.  I set up camp there.  It was a good break to only hike a few miles that day.  I focused on my photography.

The next morning, I started early, hoping to get down to Moon Lake, take some photos, and then continue down to the jewel of Weminuche Wilderness, Emerald Lake.  I had visited Moon Lake three years earlier and Emerald Lake, last year and three years ago.

The difficult terrain caused one of my sandals to break.  With a knife and a shoelace, I made it work.  After decending for few miles, Moon Lake and tree line came into view.  Shocked again indeed.  Just three years ago, all the spruce were very green and healthy.  I have the photos to prove it.  Now all the trees around Moon Lake are dead.  I took one photo so I would have before and after comparison photos, to show people how fast we are losing our spruce.

I left quickly.  The four miles from Moon Lake to Emerald Lake with a 50 lb. pack and sandals, on a rough trail, was punishing.  Finally Emerald Lake came into view.  The largest lake, in the largest wilderness, in Colorado.

In just the last year, from 2015 to 2016, the forest around the lake was nearly dead.  I couldn't believe it.  The photos you see here, of Emerald Lake and also Little Emerald lake, that is just 100 yards south and down stream from Emerald Lake, they were taken in 2015.  You will never see later photos of these lakes with a green forest.  It's over.

Well, it was about 2:00 PM and it was ten more miles to my jeep.  I canceled my planned camp and started walking.  It was a hot day, I had to do some mental gymnastics to trick my body into carrying my pack for ten more miles.

With three miles left, I broke my other sandal.  There was no fixing it.  Exhausted and delirious, I would look at a landmark up ahead and tell myself, "Just go that far", and when I made it, I would do it again and again.

When I got to my jeep, there was little light left.  My feet didn't look human.  I rested a while before I drove back to Durango.

Seeing a forest die is heartbreaking.

(see my blog for photos of the dead trees)

El Dorado Lake is a transparent emerald colored lake, surrounded by glacier sculpted rock.

Few people visit this lake despite the fact that it is only about a 2 mile hike.  Could the challenge be the one hour drive on jeep roads that require four wheel drive and high clearance.  Or, could it be the crossing of two creeks that are always about 18" deep, or more.  Yes that could be a problem for most vehicles.

Elk Creek Canyon is just north of El Dorado Lake.  It is about 100 yard north, by way of going up and over a hill and then it just drops off the edge, straight down for 800 feet.  Standing on the cliff edge, one has an amazing 180 degree view.  The meadow on the opposite side of the canyon catches the afternoon sun for perfect color and detail.

Cave Basin Trail takes you above tree line to a place that seems more like a high plateau than a basin, a somewhat narrow bulge divulging between the Vallecito Creek canyon and the Lake Creek canyon.

This bulge provides never-ending views and consists of many rolling hills just high enough to create a maze effect that would make you feel lost, except all you have to do is get to the top of one of the many hills, and you have a general idea of where you are.

The Cave Basin Trail abruptly ends soon after you get above tree line.  From there, you must pay attention to existing cairns, or make your own if you hope to find your way back to the trail.  You can't actually see the trail until you are almost standing on it.

In the summer of 2016, two groups of hikers became lost in Cave Basin.  Search parties spent days looking for them.  One of the groups was found only after the Air Force joined the search.

All three of these basins are difficult to access and the odds are great that you would never see another person during your stay. Here are my accounts of my first trips to those locations, beginning with Noname Basin. (yes Noname is a one word name)

During my exploration of Noname Basin, I embarked on the seldom traveled and hard to detect, Jagged Mountain Trail.  The epic scenery of these surrounding peaks in this region rivals some of our greatest National Parks.  Peak Ten, Gray Needle and Knife Point are just a few that I could identify out of an entire range in this forked basin.

Noname Basin averages maybe five visitors a year.  I guess, because it is more difficult to get to than neighboring Chicago Basin (a backpacking hot spot that receives a few thousand visitors every summer.)  I journeyed to Noname Basin on two occasions in the summer of 2015.  Once during mid summer, and then again just on the brink of fall.  Though not quite as large as Chicago Basin, it has even more peaks to view, which provides more opportunities for cutting-edge landscape photography.

What amazes me is that with all the billions of people on the planet you can still find solitude in these places.  And, even with the mild summers of Colorado, one of this state's greatest gems gets fewer visitors than the North Pole.                                                                    

Peak Ten, Gray Needle and Knife Point gather more clouds on their summits than the other peaks in the immediate area.  These peaks divide two great basins, Sunlight and Noname, east and west.

Sunlight Basin reigns to the east of these three peaks.  While spending four days there in 2014, I realized that these lonely mountains see even less visitors.  Again, most likely because of the daunting remoteness and inaccessibility.  Peak Ten, Gray Needle and Knife Point, reside in the very center of the Needles Range.   

To get to Noname Basin,  I took the train from Durango to Needleton, put on my pack, then crossed the bridge over the Animas River. ( I avoided  the popular Needle Creek Trail).  I went left, which is north, to find the unencumbered trail to Noname Basin.  The trail was so rarely used that I felt like I was pioneering a new one.

I did not see a soul until I returned to Needleton.  I kept walking north, staying close as I could to the Animas River, and I knew I needed to cross four creeks before finding the entrance to Noname Basin.  On the two miles along the Animas, I climbed over and under a multitude of fallen trees.  I only occasionally encountered fragments of a trail.  I stacked cairns to establish a trail I could follow on my return.  Many times I was too far from the Animas to use it as a reference of my direction.

Finding the Entrance to the Noname Basin, it takes a turn east.  A steep trail that fades after a few miles.  I was searching, trying to fill in the blanks, or connect the dots.  It is particularly bad the quarter mile before I came upon a trapper's cabin.  But from there on, the route finding is much easier.  The possible campsites are as pristine and beautiful as I could ever imagine.

On August 31, 2016, I boarded the Durango - Silverton Train. It's a two hour ride to the Needleton train stop.  From this stop backpacker can access the trails to Chicago Basin, Ruby Basin or Noname Basin. I set out for Ruby Basin.  Few ever go there and I had never been there.

The trail is a steep climb of 2,300 feet in just 1 mile.  The next two miles is not so steep but many dead fall trees to climb over or walk around.  The reward is a visit to Ruby Lake and a view of Animas Mountain beyond it.  I camped at Ruby Lake one night before heading to Ruby Basin.  There is hardly a trail to follow because so few people visit there.  It's a 1000 ft climb and a one mile hike. It's a small basin with tall cliff faced peaks on both sides.

As I was studying to peaks, I notices a meadow in the saddle between Pigeon and Turret Peaks.  It was about 1,200 ft above my location and maybe a good place to set up my camera. I decided it would be worth the climb.

The terrain consisted of thick willow shrubs and talus (large piles of boulders).  With not much daylight left, I arrived there and was greeted by a herd of 18 mountain goats.

Mountain goats live above tree line so predators can't ambush them by hiding behind trees.  They will go below tree line, as they do in Chicago Basin, if enough people are present to scare off the predators.  For hydration, the goats prefer eating snow.  Best of all, they are not usually bothered by humans. "Usually" as in don't approach them, let them wander near you.  I never feed or touch them.

My plan was to stay one night in Ruby Basin and then return to Ruby Lake.  As soon as nightfall arrived it began to rain hard.  It rained all night and the next morning as I packed up, it was still raining. The rain stopped just before setting up camp at Ruby Lake.  Everything I had was wet, but then the sun came out.  I laid everything in the sun to dry. It looked like a yard sale.

Returning home wasn't so easy.  The one mile of steep, I climbed two days earlier was sometimes too steep to descend without losing my footing.  By the time I got to the train stop I looked like a kid that spent the day learning how to ride a bike and endured many falls.  It was all worth it.  Ruby Lake and Basin are amazing.

Sunlight Basin was the most difficult for me. Here is my account:

On July 8, 2014, the prospects of photographing Jagged Mountain compelled me to hike 16 miles to Sunlight Lake (12,033 ft.) by way of the Vallecito Creek Trail (8,000 ft.).  

This long journey with a heavy pack required, two crossings of the swollen Vallecito Creek, three crossings of Sunlight Creek, and route-finding in the inaccessible last 6 miles of the steep Sunlight Creek canyon.  

I began at the trail-head before dawn.  

Four miles in, I arrived at the first crossing of the Vallecito Creek trail and waded through the creek in waist high depths through fast moving water.  Luckily, my 55 lb. pack planted my feet on the rocky bottom, preventing me from being swept away.  

Slipping on the rocks and floating down river would destroy all my equipment in the least. The worst I tried not to imagine.  

Still wet from my creek crossing, I met two rangers that asked where I was headed. 

“Sunlight Lake,” I said.  

“The trail to Sunlight Lake was taken out by an avalanche years ago.” 

“I’m aware of that,” I replied.  Despite their discouraging looks and forewarning, I continued on with my trek.  

Just when I was about dry, storm clouds erupted and thunder ignited, threatening me with proximal lightening strikes.  

No signs indicated which creek merging into the Vallecito Creek was Sunlight Creek.  Relying on instincts, I followed a creek into a heavily wooded canyon, and soon encountered  thousands of fallen trees in the wake of the avalanche’s path years ago.  

I climbed and slipped over piles of wet logs in this half mile wide graveyard of aspens.  

This scarred, tarnished earth provided no reprieve, so I had to use the creek as a trail, cross stepping an area of car-sized talus, and then a flat, swamp-like terrain that I would reluctantly call the easiest part so far.  

The relentless rain of the entire day made me imagine what it might have been like to be a 19th century miner or trapper, and with those thoughts of their outdoor hardships, I made camp in the failing light, slightly disappointed I did not reach Sunlight Lake.  

At sunrise I discovered that after my arduous journey I had pitched my tent only 200 yards from Sunlight Lake.  Although my feet and legs were haggard, I stayed by the peaceful, previously inaccessible lake, admiring the scenery and recovering until I could return home the same way I came.

I would not recommend this trek to anyone even though the views of Jagged Mountain and Sunlight Lake were stunning.

Twilight Peak actually has four or five peaks.  You can't see them all at once from any location.  It is a mountain of epic beauty from any view point.  It's symmetry and rock detail blends so well it appears to be by design or at least not random. 

Twilight's best side is the north side.  You can't see it from the road, but a seven mile hike on the Crater Lake Trail will get you there.

Columbine lake is that color that I and many others love so much, aquamarine. Some call it turquoise.  It can appear at times as though light is coming up from the bottom of the lake.

Like Ice Lake, there is something about it's terrain or location that creates extreme cloud or mist formation that is unique. It is also seen in the basins close by, as in the photos you see here.  

The mountain ranges of Weminuche Wilderness have a unique geology, especially the Grenadier Range.  Wither you’re looking at the peaks from miles away or just at arms length, the more you study and observe, the more you appreciate.  Every time I visit the Grenadiers the experience is very enlightening.  This particular place of stone I discovered, on my last trip to Vestal basin in July 2016, officially has no name.

The geological history of these mountains includes the strongest volcanic eruptions the earth has ever produced, 20 to 25 million years ago.  The rock you see in these photographs is quartzite, the hardest rock on earth.  I'm not a geologist or an archaeologist, but to me this is the most interesting quartzite I have ever seen. It reminds me of the great stone ruins from early civilizations.  This quartzite sit at an elevation of about 12,500 ft. I call it "Temple in the Sky".

Blues Lakes is located in the Mount Sneffels Wilderness.  It is three lakes at different elevations, the highest at about 11,750 feet and the lowest at about 10, 900 feet.

I entered the wilderness at Blues Lakes Pass.  It was the shortest route to the lakes.  I soon realized it was much more difficult that the north entrance.  Very steep and dropping 1,250 feet, that I would have to climb up on my return.

All three of the lake are beautiful. The upper and middle lakes are above tree line, the lower lake with meadow on one side and trees on the other.  And yes they are blue.

It rained most of my three days I was there.  I got many photos with mist passing in and out over the surface of the lakes.  My self and all my gear, except camera and lens, got wet.  So I was heavier leaving than when I came.  Making for an intense effort to make it back over the pass.

I am fortunate in that some of the best autumn photography in the U.S. is very near my home in Durango.  As usual I try to find a location or view that hasn't been photographed before.  Since almost all would be photographers prefer road side shots, a little hiking provides that opportunity.

An exception is my photos of Silverton and a photo called, "Yellow Leaf Road".  Getting Yellow Leaf Road was lucky timing.  I was on my way to the other side of Owl Creek Pass.  The wind was strong near the tops of the tall aspens but the hillside shielded the road from the wind.  Dark clouds were moving in.  Put these elements together and well, you get the picture.  As soon as I finished shooting the scene a jeep came roaring though scattering all the leaves off the road.

Most autumn photos you encounter are with a flat blue sky.  I only head out for fall shooting when there is texture and a 3 dimensional look to the sky.

If you like shooting into the sun or working with low light, winter photography is best if you are comfortable with black and white.  Some of these photos on this page do not look much different in color, particularly the first three photos.

Even with all these issues and extremes, for me it about contrast.  Getting the soft detail on the snow surface.

The next issue you deal with is getting to the desired location.  How far can you snowshoe?  All of these photos except the last two, are inside the Weminuche Wilderness.  The last photo is from the top of Raider Ridge, an "Open Space" on the edge of Durango.

The first, third and forth images I camped in the snow to shoot them.  They were taken in the last light of day.  It gets cold above 10,000 feet on snowy nights.

This photo, "Winter Stillness on the Animas" was the first photo I took that I wasn't using a "point and shoot" camera.  It was a Canon 60D.  I took this photo on January 22, 2012.  I had what you might call beginner's luck. 

In January 2013, This photograph won 3rd place at the Annual Four Corners Juried Art Show.  All forms of visual art were in the show.  My award was the only one given for photography.  The show is held annually in Durango, Colorado, my home town.  Also I entered 2 other contests with this photo.

The 2013 International Fine Art Photography Competition at the Grand Prix De La Decouverte in Paris France.  I received one of ten Award of Merit given in the landscape category. There were over 10,000 entries.  The competition was sponsored by the De Groot Foundation,

I was also a finalist in the 33rd Annual Photographer's Forum Magazine Photography Contest.  As a finalist my image entered in the Photographer's Forum Book, "Best of Photography 2013".

The second photo , "Broken Arch Falls" was the first photo I ever sold.  It was in 2013.

The third and forth photos were cover photos for Durango Magazine, summer issues, 2013 and 2014.