Bamboo Forest: Haleakala National Park, Maui

Thursday, July 7, 2011

When most people think of Haleakala National Park, they think of a beautiful sunrise at the top of a dormant 10,000 foot volcano. There is, however, another less visited section of the park known as Kipahulu. It is on the windward side of the island twelve miles past Hana town. Kipahulu features one of the best hikes on Maui, the four mile Pipiwai Trail.

Despite being at the very top of our Maui “to do” list, we almost aborted our plans to take this hike due to the effects of the previous day’s bee attack. Neither Lewis nor I had slept well the night before and we both felt an overwhelming sense of malaise that made even walking out to the rental car seem like an insurmountable obstacle. When we finally arrived at Kipahulu, the two of us ended up languishing in the car for an hour while Darla explored the visitor center on her own. When she returned to the car, I decided we should at least try to do the hike. This turned out to be a good decision although we had our doubts at first; we thought we were going to die during the initial climb. After a long break at the Banyan tree featured in last week’s blog post, we eventually started to feel better. By the end of the hike Lewis and I were much improved. We were all glad we did it.

Although the Pipiwai Trail leads to an impressive waterfall, the best part of the hike was the bamboo forest one must hike through to reach it. I had never been in a bamboo forest before. It reminded me of being lost in the middle of a corn field—if the corn grew randomly instead of in planted rows, and if the corn was thicker, five times taller, and blocked out the sun. It was amazing. I was glad I had chosen to lug my tripod along. It would have been too dark to handhold the camera for any of the bamboo images.

After exiting the bamboo it was still a short walk to Waimoku Falls. There were two swiftly moving streams along the way that lacked an easy, dry way across, something that struck me as odd given the extensive boardwalk that had been built through the bamboo forest. Some people simply removed their shoes and waded through the water. This was the easiest solution but left them with wet, muddy feet on the other side. Others chose to cross the two streams with shoes on, hopping from questionable slippery rock to questionable slippery rock. This approach resulted in varying degrees of success; most shoes arrived on the other side wetter than when they started but with mud on the outside of their shoes, where it belonged. A walking stick or, in my case, a tripod came in very handy in this situation.

Our final destination, 400 foot high Waimoku Falls, was magnificent. The final image in this set does not begin to do it justice. The east side of Maui had been deluged with heavy rains overnight resulting in a massive flow of water over the falls and into the air. It was all I could do to get a shot off before my lens became covered with water drops. Still, one can get a sense of the scene.

[Click on a thumbnail to view the entire image.]

©2011 Timothy Linn. All Rights Reserved.

Banyan Tree: Haleakala National Park, Maui

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Anyone who has been to Hawaii (or other parts of tropical Asia) knows the wonder of the Banyan tree, a chaotic collection of branches, trunks, and roots that together form a living jungle gym. This tree, not a particularly large one, sits along the Pipwai Trail in Haleakala National Park. No one passes by without climbing it, hugging it, or photographing it. A certain eight year old boy—and his dad—were no exceptions.

[Click on a thumbnail to view the entire image.]

©2011 Timothy Linn. All Rights Reserved.

Schwabacher Landing: Grand Teton National Park, WY

Friday, July 30, 2010

The Tetons are most beautiful when viewed from the east, making them prime candidates for a dramatic sunrise shot. I had been scouting viewpoints for the last day and a half but had yet to find something I really liked. All of them had flaws. For example, the overlook from which Ansel Adams’ captured his iconic image, Tetons and the Snake River, one of my all-time favorites, is now partially obscured by trees. I ended up deciding on Schwabacher Landing, down along the Snake River.

It had been cloudy the night before so I woke up hoping for clear skies to the east and a bunch of fluffy cumulus clouds floating above the summits of the mountain range to catch the color of the rising sun. No such luck—not surprising for this time of year. I headed out anyway. You never know what might happen on a given morning; a moose could wander through the middle of the frame at just the right moment.

I ended up waiting for first light with a gentleman from Quebec. He had flown into Jackson from Seattle, where he attended a workshop given by Art Wolfe. (Have I mentioned that I want to be Art Wolfe in my next life?) His wife, sleeping back at the hotel, met up with him in Jackson a day earlier. They would soon head north for their first trip into Yellowstone. In the meantime, we waited to see what we could make of the morning.

To the dismay of my new Canadian friend, a duck and her latest brood of fluffy little ducklings began paddling back and forth through our composition, sending ripples across the otherwise still surface of the water right as the mountain peaks began to catch a little color. Fortunately they were only teasing us. After a few minutes, they continued on their way and we began shooting.

[Click on a thumbnail to view the entire image.]

©2011 Timothy Linn. All Rights Reserved.

Bees & Thistles: Grand Teton National Park, WY

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Mormon Row is a group of century old homesteads that sit in the middle of the sage and grasslands to the east of the Teton Range. They are a popular location for shooting a sunrise in Grand Teton National Park. We did not make it for sunrise but we did show up late in the morning to take a look around and enjoy breakfast. What caught my eye were not the structures, their eastern faces already in shadow, but the bright purple thistles in various stages of bloom. There were a number of bees as interested in these flowers as I but, fortunately, they paid no attention to me as they went about gathering nectar. This allowed me to get within a few inches of them as I shot.

[Click on a thumbnail to view the entire image.]

©2011 Timothy Linn. All Rights Reserved.

Storm Over the Tetons: Grand Teton National Park, WY

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

It is hard for me to imagine approaching the Tetons from the northeast and not being awestruck as they come into view. There are no foothills or other obstructions to mask their size or beauty; just a row of serrated peaks lined up behind a series of wetlands, lakes, and the iconic Snake River. Darla, who was seeing this all for the first time, wondered aloud why it had taken us so long to visit this area given that it is only an hour south of Yellowstone.

Storm clouds were gathering over the mountains as we arrived at the Willow Flats overlook. Twenty-one years earlier I had taken a photograph of the moon over the Tetons from nearby. I wanted to see how much I remembered. We wouldn’t be here at dusk this time—and we wouldn’t be catching any views of a setting moon—but it was a dramatic and memorable scene nonetheless.

By the time we arrived at Oxbow Bend, a short distance further south, it was all but certain we would be seeing lots of clouds but no color as the sun dropped behind the mountains. As darkness fell and we continued on toward Jackson, the clouds opened up unleashing a violent mixture of rain and hail, thunder, and lightning. Some strikes were so close that they lit up the interior of the truck as if it were the middle of the day, eliciting a lively discussion about the likelihood of getting struck by lightning while in a moving vehicle.

[Click on a thumbnail to view the entire image.]

©2011 Timothy Linn. All Rights Reserved.

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