Snow Patrol
Images of red rocks and snow are not big sellers, either in my gallery or as images for publication, but there is something about the beauty of these amazing storms that really excites and inspires me. This winter continues to be unusually stormy and snowy throughout the region.
Last week I awoke very early, as I often do, to check the weather and see if any good morning shooting opportunities were in store. Fog had formed over the night, so since I’m working on a Dead Horse Point project, I quickly ran out there hoping the mesa top was above the weather. I was early enough to find that it was, but fog had not formed on the Colorado River side of the Canyonlands. In the west, however, I could see that there appeared to be some fog on the Green River side. As I drove, I was making fresh tracks in the two or three inches of snow on the road past the Neck. I was further surprised to see no one in the parking lot at Mesa Arch–an amazing event in itself.
At Green River Overlook, I faced a stiff cold wind, but below me in the predawn light I could see the sea of clouds. There’s a Grand Canyon folk tale about somebody walking across the canyon on the fog, and I felt as if I could step right off the point onto the fog and start tramping toward the Orange Cliffs.
It’s impossible to see Candlestick Butte on the White Rim from the main viewpoint, but since I knew I could see it by walking a few hundred yards, I quickly loaded up the digital camera (the wind was much too stiff for the 4×5) and walked over. I was in luck, Candlestick was standing tall and free of the fog, which by now was being whipped into frothy waves by the wind. I knew I had to work quickly or this amazing weather event would be gone. I did a number of compositions and even shot some pieces of a panoramic. The long telephoto cropping available with the small Nikon sensor allowed me to zero in on distant Ekker and Elaterite Buttes across the Maze. It was a great morning, and I think I got some of the best ISky images I’ve captured in awhile.
This weekend, though I had planned to watch the Superbowl with friends, a routine check of the coming storm forecast caught my eye. Escalante had a Heavy Snow Warning, and the Page and Farmington forecasts also posted Winter Storm Warnings and a promise of significant snow for each place.
First, a little history. Over the years I have made countless trips in search of snow scenes across the Southwest, the Nation, and even in places like Australia. My general plan is to rely on a forecast, leave before the storm begins, wait for the storm to hit a lull or end, and begin shooting. I then drive home when the roads have been plowed. I’m especially fond of fresh snow as a subject, and in the Southwest, fresh snow sometimes lasts literally moments. A number of years ago, for example, I followed a storm to Canyon De Chelly, risked my life hiking the snowy trail down to White House Ruin, and shot as quickly as I could as the snow began to melt as soon as it stopped falling. By the time I set up my 4×5 and had shot a few dozen images it was gone.
Some Southwest locations offer more of a chance for success than others. Snow is much more likely to come in abundance at Bryce, Mesa Verde, the South Rim, and Black Canyon than at the lower elevations. Since I’ve had so much good luck at the “easy” places, my focus has shifted to the trying to get snow shots at the lower elevation locations, so this is why I was particularly excited about snow in Page.
My luck last year with successful snow imagery illustrates how fickle and spotty these storms can be. On the strength of forecasts, I made trips to both Escalante and Farmington. In Escalante, perhaps one inch fell and quickly melted, so I got nothing. At Farmington, no snow fell at all even though six inches was forecast. My dreams of a snowy Shiprock rising above the lingering fog were not to be. On the way home, after passing through a snow-free Cortez, I ran into a foot or more at the turn off to Hovenweep. I needed my FJ Cruiser’s locking rear differential to make the risky trip off the highway, but as I got near Hovenweep the snow gradually disappeared. I turned around and headed toward some ruins I had visited in Canyons of the Ancients National Monument which were back in the heavy snow zone. Again, risking a broken leg or worse, I hiked in the deep snow down to a tower ruin and got my only good winter snow image of the season.
My luck on the trip this weekend, was better, but it still drove home to me that these winter storms are as unpredictable in their yields as the summer thunderstorms. Page, where I waited for two nights, got only a trace, but as I headed out Monday before dawn, I quickly ran into heavy snow on the ground in the Kanab area and clear conditions. Inventing my shooting strategies up on the fly, as usual, I decided to make a quick run to Zion. Kanab had over a foot of snow, and as I headed into East Zion, the depth was approaching more like two. I could also see the majestic snow-smothered East Zion cathedrals rising above fog! I’ve learned a long time ago that once you get the idea for a shot and get excited about what might be, that the universe will often deny your hunger. As I drove into Zion, certain I’d made the right choice on where to go, I was stopped by a wall of snow. An avalanche had come down Checkerboard Mesa, burying the highway. Though I was glad I was not under that pile of snow, I could see the sunrise on my objectives, unreachable.
In the end, my best shot of the trip was probably one I got along the Boulder Mountain highway on my way home: an abstract of aspen shadows on the undulating snow.
