I’m still feeling the effects of our contact with that band of wild horses.  Ever since childhood I have loved anything to do with horses, the wild west, cowboys and a lifestyle that is the  cornerstone of our American heritage.  We chose the eagle as our national symbol but I think, had they known of wild horses, our founding fathers may have seen them as the quintessential symbol of freedom.  I copied the following from a sign at the BLM Wild Horse Corrals in Rock Springs, Wyoming.  It really moved me emotionally.

“Wild Mustang”

He’s desert bred, he’s underfed, and tough as a pinion tree.

No cowboy pals, no pole corrals, just wild and runnin’ free.

No thing of beauty, most would say, but beauty’s hidden there.

It’s in the blood of a rangy stud, and the heart of a mustang mare.

Robert Wagoner

We’ve left the horses but I can’t stop thinking about them.  That was a special encounter; one that I will never forget.  This Robert Wagoner poem is much more than words for me.   It is a feeling that I can’t find the words to express.  It is a bit frustrating, not being able to say it.  Feeling it is good enough for now.  The poem and being here make me feel good about living and life. 

We’re having a great time traveling south.  We’ve left Wyoming, explored Utah and ventured into northern Arizona.  We did “turn left” out of that RV Park under the Mormon Temple in Manti, Utah.  I had mistakenly identified it in the previous blog post as being in Ephraim.  At least, I had the San Pete Valley correct. 

We followed a very scenic US Highway 89 all the way to Kanab, Utah.  Kanab is a crossroads and jumping off point for many of the sights in the southern Utah/northern Arizona area.  Zion, Bryce Canyon and Grand Canyon National Parks are only a few of the areas of interest in this pink sandstone paradise adjacent to Grand Staircase Escalante National Monument.  We parked and made ourselves at home.

Our first excursion from Kanab took us to Coral Pink Sand Dunes State Park.  It was a late afternoon, spur-of-the-moment trip that went well into the night.  I photographed a sunset and watched the full moon rise as the sun was setting.  It was a peaceful and rather romantic evening.  The sand dunes reminded us of Egypt. 

Kanab is well known for western movies.  Hundreds of movies and a few television series were filmed in part or entirely in this area.   An old Gunsmoke movie set is in ruins but visible from the Johnson Canyon Road.  It is in bad condition but rumored to be planned for renovation.  I took a few pictures but had a hard time visualizing Miss Kitty and the Long Branch Saloon. 

Touring the local “Little Hollywood Museum” was interesting but taking pictures of the FREE access to relocated movie sets was almost impossible without including signs, posters or modern conveniences such as electrical wiring.

Most of our sightseeing in Kanab was from the truck.  There is a lot to see but most hiking excursions are longer or have more elevation change than our old bodies are prepared to handle, especially since we always carry thirty to fifty pounds of camera equipment.  Jane has been a real sport about helping, actually insisting that I let her carry something.  She seems to have set aside her photography career in favor of being my support.  That’s good and bad; I appreciate her help but was impressed with the progress she was making as a photographer. 

After three days in Kanab, we headed for the place and photographs that have eluded us over the past couple of years – Page, Arizona and Antelope Canyon.  We stopped in Page two years ago specifically to get pictures of Antelope Canyon and to try for the lottery selection to The Wave.  Both can be found via a Google search.

Antelope Canyon is a pay-as-you-go tourist attraction near Page on Navajo Reservation and requires Navajo guides to transport and escort visitors.  There are tours designated as photographer tours that cost a bit more but allow much more time and crowd control assistance.  Scheduling mixups had pissed me off on the previous visit so I left in a fit of anger – without pictures.

The Wave is a BLM (Bureau of Land Management) site with limited access.  We were unable to schedule a visit on the previous trip.  Getting selected is less of a problem for us than the hike itself.  Two years ago, we were in much better shape.  Now, however, nearly eight miles carrying camera equipment is a bit much. 

My idea was to find a horseback tour into The Wave.  That isn’t allowed.  Bummer!  So, we put all our eggs into the Antelope Canyon basket.   We booked the photographer’s tour and everything started great.  We were in a truck of just eight photographers.  I was all smiles.  Then, it turned to crap. 

I got a few pictures but out of control masses made it a terribly frustrating trip.  I could not believe the crowds in that small place,  And, the lack of crowd control promised photographers.  It was horrible.  However, after blowing off some steam, the crowds began to disperse.  The final 30 minutes was worthwhile.  I came away with a few acceptable images and have already had a few sell at one agency.

If you ever are in this area of Arizona – and most people who visit Zion and/or Grand Canyon National Parks are – it is a must see.  Even if you are not a photographer, this canyon is absolutely amazing – Beautiful! Majestic! Awesome!  Think of your strongest adjective for awe inspiring beauty and multiply that by a bunch.  I loved it – even if I did get frustrated over the crowds.  

ED Note:  The crowds were European and Asian.  If you live in the USA, It might be better to wait for the dollar to recover some value. 

One other adventure in the Page area that is worth while is a boat trip on Lake Powell.  We booked the “Canyon Adventure” from the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area Resorts Lodge.  It was $60 per person for a two and a half hour tour of two slot canyons that are accessible from Lake Powell, Antelope Canyon and Navajo Canyon.  It was a picturesque and relaxing tour on a huge boat that carried approximately 50 passengers.  The canyons were not nearly as tight as the walking tour but still were tight enough to amaze us that such a big boat could turn around. We also made a loop into the area of Glen Canyon Dam.

Again, we left one place with no particular “next place” in mind.  We had never seen Sedona and aimed the truck in that direction, headed south on US-89.  That trip is some of the most wild west scenery one could ever see.  I will save a report on that for another blog.  I hope you will stay tuned.

l8r

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Yellowstone National Park is Old Faithful, buffalo herds and history.  We’re seeing plenty of all that.  We have yet to photograph Old Faithful, however.  I had planned to make a video but we seem to always get to the area after a tiring day of sightseeing.  We’ve now landed in Rock Springs, Wyoming and never recorded a video in Yellowstone.  That is a bit of a bummer but not a party stopper.  We may get back this way.  Cold weather caused us to cancel our plans for Glacier National Park and the tentative plan to travel down the West Coast on the return trip home.

We stayed six days in Yellowstone and barely scratched the surface of things to do and sights to see.  We did manage to travel both the north and south loops of the figure eight layout of the park roads.  Old Faithful, Hayden Valley and most of the thermal features are on the southern loop.  Mammoth Hot Springs, Lamar Valley and much of the history are on the north loop.

Mammoth Hot Springs was a highlight.   I had not expected such natural beauty and spent much more time there than allotted.  Mammoth Hot Springs is Park Headquarters and, I assume, one of the oldest developed parts of the park.  It was a Military Garrison when the US Army was in charge of maintaining the park.  It still maintains that historical air.

The beautiful falls or, more accurately, geological and biological flows of hot liquid chemicals and minerals bubbling from deep beneath the earth’s crust cascades over layer upon layer of terraced castle-like stone features. This hydrothermal feature’s colors are more pastel than those of the southern loop.  The light kept changing and with each change I took more pictures.  It was hard to pull ourselves away.

And, after leaving, we found an upper level of Mammoth Hot Springs.  The castle-like stone feature were a part of the upper level, as well, but the upper level was a lot of colorful pools at different levels with water flowing over the sides, forming pool after colorful pool of sheer graceful, Kodak beauty.

Colors of the hydrothermal features along the southern loop seem much more intense, saturated. Flows from these geysers and springs deposit an unbelievable amount of water into the Firehole River, which just happens to be a trout fisherman’s paradise.  The Firehole River Geyser Basin is also a favorite of photographers.  I’ve seen many images from here by such as David and Joseph Muench.  The entire Muench family is on my list of favorite photographers.

There is a very accessible boardwalk around the Midway Geyser Basin.  It is a short walk filled with photo opportunities.  The ever-changing light and wind-blown steam  emphasize patience as a virtue.  It is a place to which I would return frequently; if I had the time. 

The image to the right is the color straight from the camera; no saturation added.  The intensity of these colors is just absolutely mind-blowing.  At least it is to me.  I find it satisfying also that my colors nearly match those of the amazing Muench brothers. 

Ed Note:  I should also mention that I was using a polarizing filter.  Polarizing filters, however, are only effective when the sun is at a right angle to your subject – side-light.  They also reduce your light reception by one f/stop.

Two of our favorite wildlife observation areas were Hayden Valley and Lamar Valley.  Hayden Valley is on the southern loop.  Since both our campsites (Grant Village and Fishing Bridge) were on the southern loop, we saw much more of Hayden Valley.  Lamar was a day trip in which we drove through and back, leaving the park through the Northeast Gate and stopping for a fantastic lunch at a small resort in Silver Gate, Montana.

We’ve seen a few elk, lots of mule deer, herds of buffalo but not a single moose.  There was a “possible” wolf sighting in Lamar Valley on the return trip from Silver Gate.  We saw a large group of people and one of those bright yellow Yellowstone buses and checked out the commotion.  Everyone was excitedly pointing out a small group of dots that moved.  Maybe they were wolves.  They were much farther away than the group of coyotes that I mistakenly (not a confession) took for wolves. Since the yellow park bus was there … maybe. 

We also saw a black bear walking beside a river in the upper elevations as we were returning from Silver Gate.  He was close enough the be really exciting but too far for a decent image; plus it was too dark to stop even a slow-moving target.  All in all, I felt the Lamar Valley tour was a bust.  We counted a whole lot more critters in Hayden Valley – and, were able to get really close.  Our best elk sighting was in the Firehole River Basin.  I also “almost” got an image of an osprey snatching a trout from Nez Perce Creek.  Actually, I did but it was not one that I would share. 

Our time in Yellowstone was marked by cold mornings and warm, beautiful afternoons.  The cold of the evenings, however, was enough to convince us that continuing into Montana and Glacier National Park was not a good idea.  We had been told that one of my primary objectives (Going to the Sun Road) had already closed for the season.  We considered crossing Idaho into Washington but learned that many of the sights in Olympic National Park were also closed.  We chose a southerly direction for our next destination.  Not sure where, we stopped in a KOA campground in Rock Springs, Wyoming until we could make a decision.  It took three days to decide.

While deciding, we toured Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area and followed the Wild Horse Loop through a large section of Bureau of Land Management property.  We took only a few pictures in the gorge and noted several campsites should we choose to hangout in the relaxing, wooded atmosphere.  Also of note is the Sheep Creek Geological loop.  Beautiful country and an entertaining drive – lots of elevation change.

Wild horses was the best part of the Rock Springs stay.  I had given up on chasing the Pryor Mountain herd.  Thankfully, it could not have been any more productive than our excursion to the BLM Wild Horse Corrals and the mustangs we came across on the White Mountains in Sweetwater County, Wyoming.  Known as the Pilot Butte Herd, they really put on a show for us.  Jane spotted a small herd (we counted 18) near a tall communications tower.  There was a dirt road that led right to them and they only stared as we got near. 

We sat for nearly an hour, watching the colts play and nurse and the stallions challenge and posture.  I don’t know a lot about them, but thought there should only be one stallion with a group of mares?  There were at least four stallions in our group. 

Though I didn’t understand, that was probably a good thing.  I got some good pictures of them posturing, challenging, biting and rearing to fight.  It never got really serious but made some good pictures.  Most of the action pictures were rejected, however, by my agent.  Pushing the ISO to 400 stopped the action but introduced too much digital noise.  I have GOT to learn how to control that. 

We’ve left Rock Springs.  We’re wandering, still no specific destination.  We’re camped now near Ephraim, Utah at the Temple Hill Resort – a Mormon High Holy Place.  There is a beautiful temple here that is said to the be the fourth oldest in the Mormon culture.  It was built over a twenty year span in the late 19th century and is the site of annual LDS Cultural celebration.  Ephraim is a farming and ranching community located in the San Pete valley and irrigated from the San Pete River.

We’re now into our second day here with no pressing need to make a decision.  I have an internet connection – again, very sketchy – and little reason to be pressured into a major decision.  As Jane says, “The decision is to turn left or to turn right.” 

l8r

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We’ve moved to Yellowstone National Park.  The journey took us along a scenic byway in Idaho and through West Yellowstone, Montana, entering Yellowstone via the West Gate.  I’m writing this from Grant Village RV Park in the southern part of Yellowstone.

I think most of our goals for the visit to the Tetons were accomplished.  I did not get an image of the Tetons reflecting on the still surface of a lake or river.  I suppose the images of a cloud-shrouded Teton Mountain Range could be accepted in lieu of the reflections.  Sighting the large bull moose was a highlight of our visit in Grand Teton National Park.  We saw a lot and did a lot but had run out of excursion ideas a day or so before leaving. 

Seeing the Tetons from the west side in Idaho was not as impressive as from the east.  We toured the scenic byway from Tetonia to Ashton seeing an entirely different landscape.  The rolling hills of eastern Idaho are farm country.  There were golden fields of grain as far as we could see.  We learned too that this area of Idaho, in addition to the unending fields of grain, is the largest seed potato growing area in the world.

Our priority for a place to spend the night was hot showers and internet access.  We found the showers and nice bathrooms but the promise of internet access did not materialize.  I wrote it off as trivial.  I’ll get some of this stuff posted as I get the chance.  And, whatever is selling at the agencies will still be there for me to see when we do find a Wi-Fi link.

We spent two days in Ashton.  We made a loop around the Mesa Falls Scenic Byway, visiting both the Upper and Lower Mesa Falls on Henry’s Loop of the Snake River.  A most exciting excursion was into the Big Springs area of Targhee National Forest.  The drawing card to that area is Johnny Sack’s Cabin.  John was a very small man and very talented woodworker.  His house and furniture were scaled to his size.  It was quite amazing what he was able to accomplish so many years ago.

However, the most exciting part in my mind, was the springs itself; the clear water and the wildlife in the area.   While watching muskrat and some of the largest rainbow trout I have ever seen, we spotted a bald eagle perched in a distant dead tree.  It was too distant for a decent photograph but Jane spotted a trail that seemed to lead along the river right beneath the eagle’s perch.  She was absolutely right.  We found a spot just across the river from the eagle’s perch, resulting in some decent pictures.  The smooth gray skies gave left the eagle highlighted against a nearly pure white background.  It also gave me fits getting the exposure correct. 

West Yellowstone, Montana is a bustling little burg.  It seems to have everything you could want and then some.  We didn’t stop but our path took us past what must have been most of the city.  Did you ever notice how tourist towns manage to make you drive past nearly every business? 

The drive around the southwestern circuit of Yellowstone National Park is lively, a Kodak moment around every turn.  We saw bison, elk, a pair of wolves, fly fishermen, traffic jams and many, many geysers and thermal pools.  I stopped and took a picture of our first sighting of steam.  The cool weather emphasized the steam over the thermal areas and the geysers. Our first sighting was nothing compared to what was in store for us. 

We skipped much of this portion of the loop, planning to return without the trailer.  We drove through the Old Faithful area on the way to our campground but those crowds can be very intimidating while pulling the trailer.  It was a mess.  There was no place to park and the area is huge – hotel, restaurants, service station, gift shops, visitor center; nothing seemed to be within walking distance.  It was just too much for this old country boy.  It made me consider the 12-hour Bus Tours that leave daily from several lodging sites.  But, later experiences with the throngs on those buses changed my mind. 

We drove on to our camp site to lighten the load and get setup and make a plan for seeing this wonderful Yellowstone National Park.

Our high spirits were dampened at Grant Village RV Park Registration.  My debit card was rejected and we soon learned that our checking account had been debited over $3,000 in fraudulent charges.  I’ll spare you the details since this is about travel, photography and fun.

After parking the trailer and accomplishing a few odds and ends, we drove back to Old Faithful.  The weather was being very uncooperative – rain, snow, and cold.  We had a ridiculously expensive meal in the Old Faithful Grill (I forget its real name) and gathered some information at the Visitors Center while awaiting our first sighting of Old Faithful erupting.  She spewed forth steam and hot water right on schedule.  It is amazing how accurately the rangers predict each eruption.

It was after dark as we returned to the campground.  We climbed to over 8300 feet on the way with snow increasingly heavy as we climbed.  We made two crossings of the Continental Divide.  We were expecting over two inches of snow in the campground during the night.  We got much less than that, mostly mush and mud.

We set out Saturday morning for a venture of the entire southern loop of the park.  The roads in the park form a figure eight; the southern half of the park on one loop and the northern half on the other loop.  We drove past West Thumb and turned east around Yellowstone Lake.  We accidentally discovered the Yellowstone River waterfalls – Upper Falls and Lower Falls.  The falls must be a favorite spot for the tour buses.  It was crowded.  But, we managed to force our way forward (wildly swinging my tripod may have helped) to a spot on the rail that I intended to use for panorama or HDR.  As it turned out, I found the single image most effective. 

I liked the Lower Falls best.  I think upper and lower are not references to height but to whether the falls are located on upper or lower parts of the river. The Lower Falls may actually be the higher of the two? 

Three mule deer bucks feeding beside the main road caused a major traffic jam.  I managed to get a few shots before the rangers arrived. 

A highlight of the day was out choice of a picnic area.  It was high above the Yellowstone River, looking across a beautiful, grassy meadow.  I managed to stir a big controversy over whether the dog-like creatures below us were wolves or coyotes.  I’m embarrassed.  It was probably a mama coyote and three pups.  My argument was based on “coyotes don’t run in packs.”  I drove away rather than confess. 

We came to a huge herd of bison (bison-buffalo, who cares!) along the Yellowstone River with rolling hills of grassland in the background.  It was a Kodak Moment. I got pictures of two young bulls sparring, closeup of a large bull and cow, and this wide-angle image with the herd spread out behind them.  The closeup is the best shot but I wanted the readers to see more of what we were seeing.

Most of the thermal and geyser areas are south and east of Madison – the west gate of the park.  We stopped at a few of the thermal areas but chose to return another day for a more detailed view.  We were tired and hungry.  The full circuit may be too much for one day.  We passed Old Faithful, without pictures again, and made our way across the Continental Divide to the comfort of camp. 

This is again more than 1,000 words. My editing eye seems to be declining with my aged vision. 

We’ll pick up here for the next blogging effort.  Please stay tuned.

l8r

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The hunt for Bullwinkle ended today.  On our return trip from another Wild Kingdom day, we saw a bull moose feeding along the shore of Gros Ventre River, only a mile or two from our campsite. The light was not great but as he patiently fed and posed for the huge crowd that gathered I was able to return to the truck for my longest lens and sturdy tripod.  It still was a problem stopping a feeding moose’s mouth and head as he busily strips the tender willow leaves and chews.  I did not want to boost the ISO more than necessary.  That often gets my images rejected for artifacts (digital noise).  This one is pretty sharp.  I’ll just have to wait for the agencies verdicts. 

Our first full day in Grand Teton National Park was fruitful despite continued frustrating weather.  First we had rain; then heavy overcast; then nice light; then more rain.  It seemed the weather gods were teasing us.  The rain and overcast came at the most inopportune moments.  But, we did enjoy the day’s circuit.

We started early (for us), driving east toward Kelly and turning on the Gros Ventre River Road toward the Gros Ventre Slide.  The “slide” is an area that collapsed, damming the river and forming a beautiful lake that is now a choice camping site for those gutsy enough to pull a trailer or drive a motor home into the area.  The roads are in Bridger-Teton National Forest and not vigorously maintained.

I had noticed the ruins of an old log cabin on the way in.  On the way out, I was in the act of photographing the cabin when a lady puffed her way up the hill from a car parked at the entrance, asking, “Would you like some history on this homestead cabin?” 

“Of course,” I replied, only half interested.

“I was born there,” she continued.  That got my interest.  She went on to tell me about her grandfather Taylor who had built the cabin as required by the homestead grants in those early days of settlement.  She had been unable to convince the National Park Service to restore and maintain the cabin despite continued pleas.  They reasoned that it was not in its original location.  It was truly an interesting encounter.  I love history, especially old west history.   I could hardly believe my good fortune. 

Leaving there, we turned north toward Antelope Flats.  Soon we were delayed by a herd of bison crossing the road, and coming back across the road, and re-crossing the road.   It was frustrating but funny, especially the part Jane played in it.  I kept easing forward but she chastised me, demanding that I stop for the animals; It’s a rule! 

She took some pictures of several of the big bulls.  I snapped a few of the traffic jam.  Then, one huge bull came steadily right at the truck.  He got closer and closer and Jane got nervous. “He’s going to butt our truck!”  He came even closer.  “Warren, you better move.  He’s getting too close.  Warren!  Move it!  Move it.”  So much for “Animals have the right of way.” 

I eased forward with Jane in full panic mode.  Finally, the path parted and we moved away from the bison, headed for Mormon Row on Antelope Flats Road.  I was still chuckling when I saw the Moulton Barn.  It probably is one of the most photographed features in the park.  I’ve seen it absolutely everywhere.  The light was disappointing but I snapped the obligatory images of Moulton Barn, hoping to get better images in better weather/light.

The next day light was much better, along with the weather.  I was up early for sunrise images  over Mormon Row – the barn pictures.  I must have been sleepy or excited; I drove off without disconnecting the RV power cord from the generator that we keep chained down in the bed of the truck.  That story is too long and too embarrassing for details.  Just let it go that I have duct taped the generator together.

The pictures were nice.  I got the light I wanted at TWO of the Moulton Barns.  I then experimented with some multi-exposure panoramas.  The image above is three separate exposures stitched together using Photoshop.   I’ve submitted a couple to several of my stock agencies and awaiting a response.  I hope they like them as much as I do. 

One of our hikes took us from the Laurence S. Rockefeller Preserve to Phelps Lake.  It was a very Wild Kingdom-looking area.  We expected to see wildlife, maybe even a bear.   I got tickled thinking that Jane had decided that $70 for the recommended can of bear repellent was ridiculous.  “They’ll just have to eat me,” she said.  At one point during the hike, Jane left me taking pictures, knowing that I would catch up soon.  She got frightened.  She said she couldn’t help looking for a place to escape should a bear attack.  I started laughing — “Yeah!  I can see you now ‘here bear, take my $70; here’s a hundred.  Keep the change.”  She didn’t think it was as funny as I did.  LOL

The image above is where she left me.  You can just make out that there is a fly fisherman center left.  This is a small cove on Phelps Lake.  The Teton Mountain Range is the background.

On this same outing, we pulled in to Teton Village to see what all the fuss was about.  It was impressive as in MONEY, but not a lot to hold our interest.  I think the Tram up the mountain slopes would have been interesting.  There are hiking trails from the top.  Maybe another time.

The city of Jackson is quite friendly.  And, not ridiculously expensive.  Jane found the prices in the local Albertson’s to be similar to what we would pay in Austin or San Antonio.  I was able to fill the truck with diesel for $2.88 a gallon. 

After finding Bullwinkle for the first time, he just kept popping up. On two different occasions, he dropped by the campsite for breakfast.  Seriously, He laid down one morning and took a nap right beside our trailer.  In the picture, you can see Jane sitting on our campsite picnic table as if she is inviting him to join us. 

Seeing him has become common place now.  He seems to always be at the same place at the same time on the Gros Ventre River.  Unless conditions are really good, we don’t even stop.  I did get a few more pictures of Bullwinkle and Ms. Moose crossing the river.  I still haven’t processed those.  We’ve been to busy having too much fun.

My guidelines tell me that a thousand words is a picture and about all most people are willing to read at one setting.  I’ll save more adventure for another post.  Please stay tuned.

l8r

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This adventure will preempt the completion of last year’s story of our sailing on a windjammer along coastal Maine.  Since retiring, I’ve become even better at procrastinating.  I hope to stay current with this effort, as we work our way across the Western States of North America.  We are in Grand Teton National Park.  We’ll stay here a week to ten days before moving up to Yellowstone National Park.  From there the “very loose” plan is to head into Montana following an excursion into the Pryor Mountain Wild Mustang Reserve.  If the weather doesn’t get nasty, we will venture from Glacier National Park across Idaho to Olympic National Park in Washington.  And from there … we’ll make that plan when we get there. 

We left our Central Texas home the morning of August 27.  The departure was slow due to a planned stop for groceries and RV supplies at a Wal-Mart in Lampasas.  It was a bit past noon before we turned North on IH35.  As luck would have it, we headed into a late summer cold front.  We were bucking a headwind.

Crossing into Oklahoma was a milestone.  It was the first time Jane had been to Oklahoma.  She was excited enough to call her friend Phillias to let her know that we were in her hometown of Ardmore.  We spent a night in Oklahoma at an RV Park better left unmentioned.

Our wind-swept journey across the beautiful ranching and farm lands of Kansas and Nebraska was rushed.  The camera stayed in the bag the entire way, avoiding the temptation to spend several days sightseeing.  It was the first time in Kansas and Nebraska for both of us.  But — The Tetons were calling.

Probably the most exciting part of getting here (Tetons) was the trip across Togwotee Pass.  We had been advised of road construction but were told that it was “not too bad.”  That was a locals advice.  It was a long section of unpaved road.  Pulling a very light, 23-foot travel trailer, we crossed in a snow storm, preceded by rain and sleet.  We were slipping and sliding and the trailer was bouncing.  It was “too bad.”

But, coming down out of those mountains and seeing Grand Teton for the first time was a breathtaking sight.  Even though clouds covered her peak and intermittent rain obscured the view, I was speechless. 

I must add, also, that the trip north along US 287/26 was very interesting.  Passing through Fort Washakie and the Wind River Indian Reservation gave us a feel for the Old West and a rugged lifestyle from which this area evolved.

Dubois is an extremely touristy town along Wind River and a far cry from the rugged far west culture of its surroundings.  It looks (and is) expensive – but beautiful. 

We had learned earlier that Jackson is the town to the south of Grand Teton National Park.  Jackson Hole refers to the entire valley beneath the mountains.  We came into the valley through Moran and drove through Jackson Hole with occasional  “turnouts,” trying to see the mountains through the clouds.  A ray of sun would break through but the peaks remained covered by clouds.  There was heavy snow at the upper levels.

We pulled into our site in Gros Ventre Campgrounds (pronounced grovont) early in the afternoon of August 30.  It was miserably cold with intermittent showers.  Gros Ventre is a no frills campground.  There is a bathroom but now showers and, of course, no hookups.  There is a dump station and potable water.  We’ll be fine for our planned 8-day stay.

A quick lunch and we were off to see the sights.  It was a tad disappointing.  Rain and cold tried to dampen our spirits.  We weathered the conditions, however, managing a few laughs and pressing on.  As Jane would later put it, “We’re having Wild Kingdom day.”

We drove into Jackson for fuel and to get oriented.  We had hoped to visit the National Elk Reserve adjoining Jackson but were disappointed to find that elk would be in the higher elevations until mid-October.  Plan B was an orientation of Grand Teton National Park.

The designated “turnouts” in the park are excellent guides to seeing sights and wildlife.  Even though viewed primarily from inside the truck, we did manage to enjoy a sight-filled afternoon. We drove self-guided vehicle tours of both North and South Jenny Lake drives and climbed to the summit of Signal Mountain.  You can see the entire valley (Jackson Hole) and much of the meandering Snake River from there.  Many of the lakes are also visible – a very impressive view.  But it was REALLY cold atop that windswept, cloud covered Summit.  We were too anxious to get back to the truck to enjoy and extended view.  This photograph is a cloud-shrouded view of the Tetons looking across Jenny Lake.

A really good thing from foul weather is the evening light.  This image is looking east across the valley with the evening sun setting the Gros Ventre Mountains aglow.  With barely enough light on the valley floor to hold the camera steady, I was thrilled with this image.

Our first day was nearly done, but not until we spotted a cow moose browsing in the willow trees along the Gros Ventre River.  It was too dark for photos but confirmed that we definitely were in Wild Kingdom.

With little to do at the campground and the end to a grueling day, we turned in early, hoping for a break in this horribly cold weather.

more l8r

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We woke up to the smell of breakfast and fresh-perked coffee.  The first impression of the Stephen Taber was “cramped quarters.”  The first “best impression” was “good food.”  I browsed through the stowed gear and my bunk, looking for clothes and the coffee cup that had been issued to us during the prior evening’s “all hands on deck” meeting.  I found the cup and enough clothing to be decent and fairly warm in the chilly September morning.  I followed my nose to a great cup of coffee and the cruise was officially underway.

We had boarded this 127 year-old schooner the previous afternoon and spent the night listening to the gentle lapping of bay waters against her wooden hull.  Despite the excitement of our pending adventure and the cramped space we would call home for the next week, we slept quite well. 

We were welcomed aboard by First Mate David Clemens, who we later learned was better known as Super Dave.  Dave directed each member of the cruise to their quarters and helped with the luggage.  We had been advised to bring only one small duffel bag filled with only what we absolutely must have to keep warm, dry and decent.  That advice was mostly ignored.  This was billed as the photography and lighthouse cruise.  Nearly every couple had at least one camera bag and a tripod.  Storing all that junk in the space allotted was … problematic.  But we managed. 

Dinner was not served that first evening but Captain Noah Barnes came aboard for the all hands meeting and answered questions about places to eat and things to do on our final evening in Rockland. 

We wandered around Rockland for an hour or so, returning to the ship after an expensive but not so good dinner at the Black Bull Restaurant.  We spent the evening hours socializing with the other twenty or so passengers aboard the Stephen Taber. 

The morning was bright and beautiful; the coffee was just as good as it had smelled and Cara, the Galley Mate, had prepared a huge feast of blueberry pancakes, bacon and fruit for breakfast.  In the bright, but slightly chilled, morning air, we had breakfast on the open deck rather than in the cramped surroundings of the absolutely authentic galley of the Taber.

I said authentic because everything Cara cooked was on the old wood-burning stove and the associated oven of this National Historic Landmark.  The Steven Taber was certified as a National Historic Landmark in 1991.  Nothing can be added to or taken from the vessel that would change authenticity.  Rather than go into a lot of detail about her historical significance, I will post this link.

The sailing got underway at a very casual pace.  The passengers were almost immediately involved in sailing the ship, literally.  Hoisting sail takes a lot of hands.  It was exciting.  Most of us knew little to nothing about sailing.  We started learning the lingo, names for all those huge hunks of canvas and which lines to pull and how to secure them.  It certainly helped work up an appetite for lunch. 

We were having a difficult time switching between being sailors and photographers.  I kept the little Sony in a pocket so that it was immediately available.  It worked but I was having a hard time controlling depth of field and exposures in some harsh conditions.  We had not left the harbor until around eleven o’clock. That meant taking pictures in some harsh conditions.  Plus, using the rigging and sailing equipment for foreground interest made aperture settings critical.  The main drawback to a point and shoot is the lack of manual controls.   I panicked and switched to the Nikon. 

Above is the Rockland Breakwater Light.  Owls Head Light was off to the opposite and much too far for a photograph.  At this point we were under full sail and headed into the Penobscot Bay.  Our destination according to Captain Barnes was, “Wherever the takes us.”   

With so many small (and a few larger) islands along the Maine coast, there was always another image that needed taking.  Jane and I managed, however, to relax and enjoy the scenery, feeling romantic and thoroughly enjoying our 50th Anniversary Cruise.

The day passed quickly.  We took pictures, socialized and ate.  It seems that even the do-it-yourself cruises are as much about fine dining as are the major cruise lines.  Though we ate outside, the food and service were fantastic.  Above, deck hand Julie is doubling as galley hand to help serve lunch.  I think I remember this being the most delicious tomato soup I ever tasted. 

I’m drawing on a very old memory to piece this together.  Procrastination is my strong suite.  I think our first anchorage was in Northeast Harbor.  I seem to remember the crew mentioning Cranberry Islands.  Evenings were special. After dinner, we would socialize and follow the sun down.  Most of us would photograph the event.

Sunset was followed by basic photography classes, the presentation coming from certified PPA photographer John Shipman.  John specializes in wedding photography in the Philadelphia area.  That first night was a discussion of the basics with John getting to better understand the level of expertise of our group.  There were some very skilled photographers on our cruise.  Others were hobbyist, but all seemed fairly well versed in the basics.

All that fresh air, good food and a few glasses of fine wine led to an early retirement for me.  That and the knowledge that some of us would be tasked to raise anchor and hoist sail.  Sailing is heavy duty work. 

I have procrastinated so long, and am so far from completing my story of this trip, that I want to close here and break this into several parts.  I will try to more punctual with the next edition.

l8r

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MidCoast Maine’s lonely lighthouses and scenic harbors festooned with lobster boats and buoys are part of our maritime heritage and also important tools for Maine’s working fishermen today. Fishing and boat building have been mainstays of the region’s economy since the 1700’s.

I plagiarized that paragraph from one of Maine’s numerous websites.  It summarizes my impression of our first few days in Maine.  Each of the highlighted hyperlinks is good reading. I’m hoping, however, that you will take the time to read about our personal adventure before being diverted. 

The pictures are mine.  Just thought I would throw in some illustration to set the mood for the following verbiage on our adventures.  Hard to put that much color in words.  Not being able to express my feelings for the color and atmosphere of coastal Maine leaves me longing for a better education. 

We left our motel in Farmington with no particular place to go.  Our only commitments were a motel reservation  the night before boarding our ship, the cruise commitment itself, and a reservation at an ocean-side cabin in Stonington, Maine.  We were too early to check into the motel, so we decided to wander. 

We both were curious about Acadia National Park but had planned to tour the park from our cottage in Stonington.  We would be there the week after our cruise.    The motel we had reserved was in Lincolnville Beach, very close to Rockland, where we would board the Stephen Taber, a 137 year-old schooner on which we would be sailing in a few days.  After wandering into Bangor, we veered south, around Ellsworth and through Bucksport toward Rockland. 

Lighthouses were on the menu.  We decided to explore the area around our boarding point.  Jane called and confirmed that we could check into the motel a few days early.  Aren’t cell phones marvelous? 

As we neared our coastal destination, Jane began pointing out all the references to Lobster!  When we passed a sign touting a lobster roll special for just $9.95, she insisted that I turn and go back.  The restaurant was a simple diner … two double-wide trailers, modified to accommodate a dining room and kitchen with restrooms … but, Wow!  The seafood was fantastic.  I had never had a lobster roll but am now a huge fan of that sandwich delicacy.  In addition to the lobster roll, I added a cup of fish chowder.  What a deal; we were in seafood heaven. 

Check in at the ‘50s-style cottage/motel was three o’clock.  The cabins were right on US Route 1, overlooking Penobscot Bay.  It was not much to look at but  it was cheap.  And, it served the purpose, a place to sleep, shower, and, occasionally, the internet connection worked. 

Three o’clock was an estimate.  There was a sign on the door with a number to call if you need anything.  We called and got an answering machine. Pretty casual operation. 

  We left a message, grabbed a few brochures on local attractions and set out on our coastal adventure.  We were just a few minutes from Camden, Rockport and Rockland.   There was a state park along our route into Camden, Camden Hills State Park.  We passed that by, choosing to see if our ship was anchored in Rockland Harbor, and to familiarize ourselves with the surroundings.  We would be needing groceries, laundry facilities, and more lobster. 

We found the ships docking facilities but it was out on a cruise.  We had the info we needed and spent some time investigating Rockland.  I needed to find a place to buy a tripod to replace the one I had just broken.  Rockland is a small town.  The camera store did not stock the Manfrotto that I wanted.  I had to settle for a really cheap Slik.  It had to do.  The lady in the store suggested that the closest place that “might” have what I needed was Bangor. 

We discovered Rockland Breakwater Light by accident.   It was very interesting; a lighthouse at the end of a nearly mile-long stone breakwater to warn ships of the breakwater.  There was a flat surface along the breakwater, making it possible to walk out to the lighthouse and museum.  We walked out slowly, talking with fisherman and a few other photographers along the way.  The museum was closed.  I did get a few decent photos.  We also noticed that Owls Head Light was visible in the distance.  We would catch that one at a later date.

We found the Laundromat and stopped at the grocery for a few supplies.  I noted where the library was, just in case I needed an internet connection.  We finally got checked into the motel and spent much of the evening relaxing and studying for more exploring.  I read a great article on the lighthouses in the area and Jane looked into activities and events.  We spent a little time combining travel to and from the lighthouses with activities and events.  It was Labor Day Weekend.  There was plenty happening.

Our first full day in the area was quite full.  We drove up Mount Battie in Camden Hills State Park and enjoyed the view of Camden Harbor and Penobscot Bay.  I’m not sure what else Camden Hills State Park has to offer.  We stayed only long enough to take in the view, then drove through Rockland and along the coast to Owls Head, the village and the lighthouse.  I took a few pictures of the lighthouse but found the fishing/lobstering village much more interesting … and photogenic.  The colorful lobster pots (traps) stacked along the wharf make a great foreground for shooting boats and ships along the coast and in the harbor. 

The lobstermen were busy cleaning, maintaining, and preparing the traps for their next trip into the bay.  They must have been accustomed to tourists.   They paid very little attention to me wandering around the wharf photographing them and their way of life.  It was a thrilling day for me.  Jane was having fun too; I think she is amused just to see me get so excited. 

While in Owls Head, we noticed signs for an antique motorcycle and aviation show at the Owls Head Transportation Museum.  We took note of the date and time but put it on the agenda for another day.  I had also taken note of an advertisement for Glider Rides – something I have always wanted to do.

The following day, we drove a bit farther south to see the Pemaquid Point Light. It was the farthest south we would venture along Mid-Coast Maine.  I read that Mid-Coast Maine is loosely defined as that area of the coast between Bath to Bar Harbor.  I gather it is generally the area referred to as “Down East.”

Pemaquid Point Lighthouse is near Bristol and is accessed from Damariscotta on US Route 1 via ME 130.  There is a park and picnic area built around the lighthouse.  It is a very popular attraction, both for locals and tourists.  Getting unimpeded pictures can be a bit trying.  I clambered down the rocky outcrops for a low-angle image with the rocks creating an excellent foreground to emphasize the obvious danger to transportation and cargo vessels.  Even then, I had to wait for some German photographers to move their tripods and family of models.

I later found the patience to get a shot of the grounds, the light keeper’s house, the bell tower and  the museum, which is in the light keeper’s house.  Pemaquid was by far the most photogenic of all the light houses we visited.  It is a must see for anyone traveling the Maine Coast.  I spent a lot of time taking pictures and, if ever in Maine again, would love to return for more. 

Driving through the countryside is an adventure.  As per our modus operandi, we we chose to return along the scenic route, ME 32, connecting with US 1 at Waldoboro.   It led to another adventure.  Just north of Bremen,  we saw a sign for seafood and lobster, cooked or fresh to go – just follow the signs to BCMS.  We made a U-turn and headed for BCMS,  Whatever the heck BCMS might be. 

In Broad Cove, we found a fishing wharf, piles of fishing equipment and lobster pots and a huge warehouse-like facility.  The Broad Cove Marine Services (BCMS) facility.  I thought, “We must be lost.”  There was nothing even similar to a restaurant or wholesale/retail store.  But, wandering around and asking a fisherman some  questions led us to the “restaurant.”  It wasn’t much. 

We ordered a lobster lunch, paid the bill and walked out to an area containing a few tables and chairs.  Jane was tickled with the “quaint” atmosphere.  I was taking in the bay and the very photogenic fishing fleet.  I was gradually learning bits and pieces on the life of a lobsterman – a very rugged bunch, in my opinion.

Our lunch arrived on paper plates with plastic utensils.  It seemed perfect.  We were right at the source of a delicacy we so often pass on because of the outrageous prices.  These lobster were straight off the boat with no middleman – except for the fisherman (or his wife) who prepared it for us.  And all for the phenomenally low price of $13.95.  We were tickled.  If you go to Pemaquid Lighthouse, don’t miss the BCMS on your return trip. 

We made one more stop on our way back to our motel.  Lighthouses were my mission so we took ME 131 from Thomaston on US 1 toward St. George and Point Clyde, reaching Marshall Point lighthouse as the sun settled in the western sky.  Marshall Point Light, as are most Maine lighthouses, is also very popular with photographers  and tourists. I seldom include people in my pictures because of the need for model releases when I go to sell them.  However, I managed to silhouette this couple, eliminating the need for a release, which is required for all “recognizable” people in a photograph. 

This old anchor was the perfect foreground for this nautical navigation and transportation scenic.  Shooting into the setting sun was a bit difficult.  I liked the image but must admit that it was rejected for “poor lighting.” 

Memory fails me and there are very few notes to pull from.  I’m pretty sure this was a Saturday excursion.  We were passing through many small towns and villages.  Each was involved in Labor Day Weekend activities.  We saw many signs advertising these local activities and even stopped for what we thought was a Volunteer Fire Department fund raiser – a lobster stew lunch.  We were a day early.  We pulled into the advertised parking lot but only found a crowd of people preparing the lobster.  The lobster stew and chowder lunch was scheduled for the next day.  The crew jokingly asked if we would like to help crack, or shuck, or whatever you call taking a lobster out of its shell.  We declined.  I later told Jane, “Hey, we screwed up!  Do you realize that they were eating nearly as much lobster as they were throwing into the pots?  We could be eating FREE lobster.” 

I remember now, the next day was Saturday, the 5th of September.  Camden was hosting a huge celebration, centered around the Windjammer Fleet.  We made a quick dash up Mount Battie (Camden Hills State Park) to look down at the crowded town of Camden.  We decided to chance it anyway.  We managed to find a parking spot in this small town where parking spaces are at a premium, getting  a kick out of this No Parking sign on a church wall near where we finally found a spot to park. 

Seeing these beautiful relics of our past made us anxious to begin our voyage on the Stephen Taber, which was disappointingly not one of the old wooden schooners in the Camden Harbor for the festival.  Access to the ships in the harbor was surprisingly simple.  I got a few pictures before we made our way to the food.  Several of the local restaurants were participating in the Camden Chowder Challenge.  They were offering a tray filled with a cup of chowder from each restaurant.  The idea was to mark the accompanying form rating the chowders from your favorite to least favorite. 

We had fun at the festival but needed to run a few errands before boarding our schooner.  We spent the rest of that Saturday doing the mundane things that have to be done … laundry, for instance.  Since we would be checking out of the motel the following morning, we decided to get things done and sort what would be stored in the car from what little we could get by with taking on board the Stephen Taber.  

We were out of the motel early.  Boarding was at 4 o’clock and we had a few sites to investigate before boarding the ship.  There was a motorcycle and antique aviation exhibit at the Owls Head Transportation Museum.  I must say that if you travel this area of Maine, you will have plenty of entertainment.  I don’t know who is responsible but they do a great job of scheduling events and activities for tourists … and the residents.

We drove back to Owls Head to check out the Motorcycle and Aviation Show at the Transportation Museum in Owls Head.  What I had expected to be a dull day turned into a really fun adventure. I especially enjoyed the antique aircraft. And, I got some great pictures of old cars and motorcycles.  I took a few video clips of the antique aircraft in flight.  I will save those for another time.

This old car is a 1907 Renault Vanderbilt Racer.  It is just one example of an enormous collection of cars, motorcycles, bicycles, wagons, trains, airplanes, etc.  And, the collection is not static.  There are permanent exhibits as well as temporary displays offered by proud supporters of the facility.

We enjoyed the day but were constantly checking the time, anxious for four o’clock and boarding the subject and highlight of our East Coast Adventure – the historic sailing vessel, Stephen Tabor.  We spent the night aboard her with departure scheduled for ten the following morning.  The excitement is just beginning.

l8r

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