These are the reasons I love the North Cascades: the vista of endless snow-capped peaks catching the last light of the sun, with many such spots within an easy day's hike of civilization, as well as places to escape into the remote wilderness where you are unlikely to meet a soul.
The price to pay is the incredibly short summer season where many such places are actually accessible, and makes you realize the real value of time. I find the opportunity cost that you pay of working full time is the limited window of a few weekends when you can really explore the PNW Wonderland, while balancing familial and social commitments, as well as travel urges to places outside the northwest. The pandemic this year has made things more challenging for all, but it gave more time to explore local destinations which have become more crowded than prior years.
I have often wished whether I could change that balance and adjust the trade-offs, but so far, it has proved challenging.
Mt Baker Wilderness
WA USA
Glacier Wilderness
Ever since I had seen this image of Glacier Peak, I knew I had to make it there. It isn't easy to get there: it takes a 44 mile backpack up and down multiple mountain passes to get this vista. The long weekend before smoke enveloped the region proved the perfect opportunity to undertake one of the toughest backpacks I had ever done.
But this stretch goal of mine was made more challenging by 1: my water filter clogging up on day 2 (I relied on boiling water/borrowing from other hikers), and 2: a fire triggered by the heat wave on day 3, forcing an urgent 10mi hike back to the trailhead in the dark (for a total of 22mi on day 3). Nevertheless, it was one of the most exhilarating and exhausting treks I had done in a while.
On Day 1, I hiked 10 miles from the trailhead ascending 3600 ft, made more tiring by the fact that I had under 6hrs of sleep the previous night. But being the first day of the trek, my spirits were held high by the landscapes I was yet to encounter. I camped by the edge of the cliff overlooking the vast glacial valley, completely burnt out from the long day.
12 miles of hiking on day 2 up and over three mountain passes brought me to the destination I sought for shooting Image Lake. It was probably the most challenging day of the 4-day trek, and yet I was excited to get to this location. I beelined to the sunset spot after dinner, where I ran into Sonja Saxe and Alex Spaeth setting up for shooting through the night. This particular composition was from the colorful sunset that evening, where I framed with a few late-blooming western pasqueflowers.
I woke up in the wee hours of dawn on the prophetic Day 3, where we were rewarded with one of the most beautiful sunrises over Glacier Peak. We could not get ourselves to leave the epic scenery, but with 10 more miles of hiking left, I left the place with a heavy heart. After more uphills and downhills, I finally ended up at the destination for the third night, where I set up for a relaxing evening overlooking Glacier Peak.
But the evening bliss was not to be. Smoke from a nearby fire soon enveloped the camping area. Fearing fire, the camping area nearly evacuated. I started right at sunset, and that meant hiking 10 miles in pitch black with just the headlamp lighting the way. It was with sheer willpower that I made it back to the trailhead past midnight, notching more than 22mi with a full pack. The sight of parked cars was a welcome relief after close to 5 hours in the dark.
As amazing as the photographic opportunities were, the challenges I endured in this backpack were not something I would want to repeat in a while.
Glacier Peak Wilderness
WA USA
High on Light
When we found these delightful little blooms, my partner referred to these as Einstein heads, for they had a straggled appearance of Einsteins unkempt hair. Later, I discovered that these were the seedpods of the Western pasqueflower. And they are really soft as they look.
So I returned back to the spot for sunset, hoping to capture these delightful little blooms at sunset. I just wished I had cleaned my lenses prior to taking the photograph.
Paseytan Wilderness
WA USA
Stranger from a Strange Planet
Neowise was perhaps one of the few comets that appeared in the right place at the right time: visible fairly clearly from where I was living, and at a time when technology had advanced sufficiently to capture its feathery elegance with my camera. My previous comet sighting was the Hale-Bopp in 1995, which while bright, was not amenable to capturing with a digital camera.
So when this two week window opened up to see this stranger from a strange land, I didn't say no to it.
Here is one such visual of Neowise from Edmonds Harbor, with its NW-facing shoreline providing the perfect viewpoint to shoot the comet framed by the distant peaks of the Olympic range.
Edmonds
WA USA
Seeking Nature
The last few months have left their mark on this planet, in more ways than one. It is certainly a stressful time for many, especially when stress relief is not easy to come by.
My stress relief has been to go out in nature, smell the fresh scent of a morning forest, see the majesty of the mountains from a bird's eye view, and hear the rustle of trees, the gurgle of brooks and the chirp of birds. Being outside, and maybe photographing these scenes, were the ways to warm my soul and clear my mind. And it is exactly these that I have striven not to do for the last few months.
It hasn't been easy, but it is necessary. These scenes will be waiting when I get back to nature.
Seattle
WA USA
Delicate Delights
It was more than a decade ago that I had heard of the kaleidoscopic displays of tulips in Holland. I pictured long undisturbed rows of variegated blossoms stretching endlessly to the horizon, adorned by silhouettes of iconic farmsteads and slowly rotating Dutch windmills under a hazy morning light. That vision spurred a last minute trip to the Skagit valley of Washington, the tulip capital of the Pacific Northwest. While it lacked the beautiful haziness of an atmospheric Dutch landscape, it was replete with the endless varieties of Tulips that I had come to expect. This collection was but a small sampling of the rich displays I witnessed.
This was the year I was supposed to be ensconced in the vast tulip fields, chasing sunrises and sunsets amidst the vast beds of colorful blooms, and exploring the idyllic Dutch countryside in all its glory. Sadly, that was not meant to be. But in light of the challenges this pandemic has placed on society, I am glad to be where I am.
This too, shall pass.
Skagit Valley
WA USA
Sleepless in Seattle
As the boundaries between work and home are erased (for some), the lines between the days of the week are also getting blurred. In the past years, I'd look forward to traveling as the spring season rolled around into the Pacific Northwest. They'd be the delightful breaks that motivated me to complete work early and plan for my next sojourn. These set the boundaries that defined my year in perspective
But in this new era, that is no longer the case, and as the days roll on, I have to find new mile markers to define my life.
I am blessed that I can continue to work remotely, which is not the case for many in this beautiful city. My heart goes out to those who keep this city (and others) running like a well-oiled machine despite the sever restrictions we face now.
Seattle
WA USA
Shutdown
Everything will be be okay in the end.
If it's not okay, it's not the end
John Lennon
With every single passing day, where grim news pervades the constant news-stream, it may seem we are in a hopeless place. While some countries have already started to turn the tide and have started pushing back, the epidemic has plenty of room to grow, and it'll be a long while before the last waves of this pandemic washes on the shores of humanity.
How the nations react, and how the people come together (by going apart) in this time will determine how impacted we become. Separated, we stay united in the fight against this invisible invader. I appreciate the steps the state and the country have taken to encourage social distancing. But, deep in my heart, it pains to have the wilderness separated from humanity.
I hope that this too shall pass.
Olympic National Park
WA USA
Life in Isolation
Just as the Pacific Northwest was getting out of one of the longest spells of darkness with short days and gloomy skies playing havoc with sanity, the region got hit with one of the more contagious viral diseases. The stay-at-home order instituted by the Governors of Washington and Oregon, necessary to slow down the spread of this disease, not only has a devastating economic impact on the region, but also affects our own mental stability.
To keep my brain occupied while being couped up in the walls of my domicile, I go through my archives of the wonderful collection of photos I have taken. It helped remind me that there is a world outside of the viral epidemic, fresh and ready for exploration when the epidemic simmers down. It'll be my salvation for the months that I have spent staring longingly at the outdoors.
Here are memories from a winter snowshoe to Hurricane Ridge, a rare day when the winter wonderland opened up to a sunny day.
Olympic National Park
WA USA
The Wild Coast
One of the treasures of the Pacific Northwest is the wild Pacific coast - miles and miles of a windswept driftwood beach, where the cold waters of the swirling Pacific meet the thick lush temperate rainforests, where a few rocky stalwarts stand steadfast against the incoming waves and rhythmic tides, and where sunny sunsets are a photographer's dream.
One of the few places to seek out this unspoilt wonderland is along the protected shoreline of Olympic National Park. Time and again, I retreat to the its wild coasts and seek solace in this enthralling meeting point of water and land, hiking through mossy forests and sandy beaches. This was taken on one such journey to this spiritual coast.
Olympic National Park
WA USA