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The Village Life

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The bus took it's own sweet time, winding through and around the forested mountain ranges in the eastern part of Honshu island. Through the wide windows, the life and landscape of rural Japan sped by: snow-capped peaks waiting for the summer sun with glacial blue waters heading down from them, terraced farms in every available piece of arable land in the valleys below, and bright green buds of the deciduous woodlands standing side by side with the evergreen conifers in the hills above. And in-between were tiny farmhouses with the vestiges of cherry blossoms, the perfect epitome of village life in Japan.

My destination was the village of Shirakawa-go, an old village in the Gifu Prefecture of Japan, that was so set back in time that it became a UNESCO World Heritage Site, partily due to the unique farmhouse style called the gassho-zukuri. And while the day, with gentle spring sun and mild temperatures, was perfect for visiting a place like this, it also drew in a thousand other tourists who all had the very same idea. I wandered through the village, transported back to a simpler era of feudal farming and sericulture. And were it not for the contrivances of modern civilization, I most certainly would have been. To be fair, that is the main draw of this picturesque village set amidst snow-capped peaks.

Here is a sampling of that beautiful timeless village, replete with cherry blossoms and modern selfie-stick carrying tourists...

Shirakawa-go
Gifu Prefecture, Japan

A land of contrasts

I looked up at the trail, now climbing steeply through a dense undergrowth. It wasn't supposed to be a very long hike, a paltry 3/4 of a mile. But it was tiring. The cloudless afternoon sky had left me hot and dry, and shade of the undergowth provided little respite against the afternoon heat.

It had been a long day, driving from the desert sand dunes of central Colorado, across the continental divide, to the crumpled geology of western Colorado, with over 5 hrs of sinuous highways surpassing 10000ft and grand views of the spine of the country. While the scenery was breath-taking, the thin air was taking my breath away. And by the time I had started my hike at the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, my body was already shutting down.

The summit of the ridge beckoned, and I mustered every bit of energy to pull myself up the trail. And I was glad I did, for this was when the grand views of the Montrose basin and the San Juan mountains beyond.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park
CO USA

Standing Guard

It was unmistakeable: the characteristic lines formed by boulders being dragged against their will on the hard strata below me. The glacier must have most-certainly flown over this outcropping years ago. And I looked around for more pieces of evidence, the glacial moraine, the barren scree, the U-shaped valley, and it was clear that the tiny Wedgemount glacier has most certainly retreated atleast a mile in the last century.

I turned around, and the vast glacial basin stretched in front of me, dominated by the teal blue Wedgemount lake. Once upon a time, the glacier must have lapped its shores, but all that remains now is the dry rocky moraine left behind by the glacier on its retreat upslope. The line between the vegetation-less slippery scree and the green treeline that extended a mile along the lake traced the original highline of the glacier. Now it is but a shadow of its former self.

Wedgemount glacier still survives, and still remains one of the more easily accessible glaciers of southern Vancouver, but at it's current pace of retreat thanks to global warming, not for long; it's dying embers will tell a story of its glorious past in the glorious mountains of the coastal range, and preserved only in memories and in photographs.

A lone inuksuk stood guard that day over the basin, possibly erected as a memory of Wedgemount's storied history.

Garibaldi Provincial Park
BC Canada

 

Rain and Sun

A sunny and desolate beach. A barren coast with muddy waters. The cold rush of the ocean breeze. Sparse farmsteads dotting the treeless plains around. A distant angry thunderstorm rushing to dump water.

I don't know what attracted my friend and I turn turn our car down the rocky road to this beach. Perhaps it was last spit of land before the frigid Arctic. Perhaps it was the confluence of a vast glacial-carved river valley with the windswept beach. Perhaps it was the only bit of sunlight surrounded by choppy weather.

The Kia struggled to navigate the maze of boulders before it finally gave up. I stood and looked out, gazing forlorn at the vast emptiness of the landscape around. The ominous clouds were primed to dump rain, leaving us but a few minutes to soak in the last bit of light. In the distance, a small clearing lit up a portion of the dark hillside. Whether it was rain or sun, I don't remember.

I was a few photos in, when the breeze became colder, and the first drops made their appearance. I ambled to the car, already turned around by my friend. We waved goodbye to the lonely land.

There was nothing else around, save the car and the open road. Adventures await.

Garossandur
Iceland

 

Morning in the Medina

The narrow alleyways of the medina, vibrant and full of life the previous night, was now a series of shuttered shops. The street-cleaners were making their way around, sweeping away memories, stories and remnants of the last 12 hours. The loud cries of the daily newspaper delivery crew, echoed through the long hallowed hallways and dark alleys, the only sign heralding the new day.

Here and there, a few shops opened up, the owners still recovering from their sleepy stupor, with some clutching the mass of crumpled newspapers, while others were trying to start their daily routine with morning tea. The air was cool and refreshing, filled with the scent of earthly petrichor, as well as the strong scents of mint tea and spices. The noise levels, quiet at first, rose slowly with the arrival of shoppers and tourists. It was going to be another great day of routine business in the medina of Marrakech.

I spotted these two gentlemen waiting to being their daily routines while still trying to catch up on sleep.

Jemaa el-Fnaa
Marrakech Morocco

 

Rocky Palette

The flowers swayed with the soothing evening breeze blowing up the ridge. It was a welcome respite on that hot dry afternoon atop a ridge in a remote corner of Oregon. But the heat didn't matter, for the landscape was enchanting: an undulating hillscape made special by the multi-colored layers of various metals exposed in the eroding landscape. Spots and lines of black, red, brown and pink made their appearance at various levels along the multitude of ridges. And even after spending an entire day capturing different perspectives of this unique geology, I never got tired of this captivating landscape.

The Painted Hills region of the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument is one of the few places were nature's palette is as visible as it is here. And with the late spring wildflowers adding to the kaleidoscope of color that is this region, it was quite a memorable trip to this unique region.

Painted Hills
OR USA

Dwarfed in Iceland

It is easy to get dwarfed in Iceland. Standing on a hilltop on a clear day, panoramic vistas of a tumultuous yet fragile treeless terrain, with creeks and rivers cutting their way from snow-capped volcanic peaks and massive glaciers, can certainly make one inspired by the raw power of the planet's geological forces in action. And vistas like this abound in this amazing country.

Driving along a remote dirt track in the remote Snaefellsness peninsula, my buddy and I chanced upon a trailhead, complete with a steel bridge to cross the creek. With curiousity rising in both of us, we climbed up higher and higher, until the entirety of the Snaefellsjokull glacier stratovolcano came into view. And all around, remnants of its active volcanic past laid bare on the undulating terrain.

It was a sight to remember, especially given the ideal conditions to hike in that are so rare in this beautiful country.

Snaefellsness
Iceland

The Mightly Dolomiti

It was the last leg on the first day of hiking in the Dolomiti. A steep hill loomed in front, an ascent that seemed to get longer the more closer I got. The evening sun was shining brightly, and I prodded on, encouraged by the thoughts of a cool shower, delicious pasta and wine at the rifugio for the night.
I turned around, looking back at the way I had come. The Cinque Torri (5 Towers), which seemed mighty up close, was dwarfed by the towering Tofana di Rozes rising 3000ft across the valley. Clouds marched across the region in a brisk pace, and alternating light and shadows followed them across the rugged geology. The dramatic profile of the Tofana was in full view, along with the innumerable hiking trails and climbing routes that cris-crossed this jaw-dropping terrain.
Scenes like these were all over this beautiful region of Italy. I, for one, will never forget this incredible trip.

Rifugio Averau
Cortina Italy

An Unrivalled Vista

It was a beautiful sunrise - a speck of light peering through the distant mesas and buttes, lighting up the red underside rocks of the sandstone Mesa arch, hanging over a lip of one such steep mesa, with nothing but air between the arch and the floor a 1000ft below. And to capture this premier attraction, more than a dozen photographers had crowded around, jostling for the strategic position that get the perfect angle of light and shadow.

This image, however, is not your typical image from the Mesa Arch in Canyonlands National Park. I waited a while until the crowd cleared, and peered through the arch at the landscape that opened up in the light - an endless range of buttes and mesas rising up from the myriad formations on the floor 1500ft below. The play of shadow and light gave rise to strange silhouettes and bizarre vistas, a sight that was a delight to photograph. This is one such take on a unique vista in Canyonlands National Park

Canyonlands National Park
UT USA

Alone in the Rockies II

The meandering river led my gaze through the lush green forests carpeting the seemingly endless range of snow-capped peaks. Clouds passed by slowly, foreshadowing a thunderstorm for the future, but a dramatic sky for the present. The sounds of civilization were far away, and except for a few other hikers, I had seen nary a soul.

Such places hold a special attraction. And despite the challenges of ultra-long days of hiking under unpredictable weather conditions with little company, these few moments of grandeur more than make up for the hardship involved. And the Canadian Rockies, and the remote regions away from the Icefields parkway continue to be a draw for the magical landscapes they present.

Banff National Park
AB Canada