Nov 172018
 
Where There is Light

“Where There is Light,” from the Above LCR (Little Colorado River) camp near the confluence of the Colorado and Little Colorado rivers in the Grand Canyon National Park || Prints available–click on photo to order yours!

While standing on a sandy beach along the Colorado River one morning during my recent Grand Canyon Rafting Photography Retreat, I posed a philosophical question for my fellow trip mates, mostly photographers, to ponder throughout the day as we floated along: “If no one ever saw your photographs, would you photograph differently?”

The conversation that ensued that evening over dinner, plus my ongoing fascination with Vivian Maier story, inspired me to write an article about it. On Landscape just published it: “If No One Saw Your Photographs.” In it, I explore my own reasons for not only photographing, but sharing my results with the outside world.

You’ll need a subscription to read the full article (which helps On Landscape pay a fair wage to contributors for their work and keeps their site free of advertising). The inspirational content of this eMagazine by photographic artists like Guy Tal, Rafael Rojas, Tim Parkin, and Alister Benn is well worth the price. Learn more on their Subscription page at https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/subscribe

So I turn the question to you: if no one ever saw your photographs, would you photograph differently? I’d love to hear your answers!

Nov 152018
 
Deliciousness

“Deliciousness,” from Lake Mead National Recreation Area, on the Arizona-Nevada border || Prints available–click on photo to order yours!

I wanted to spend time with an old friend of mine, the Colorado River, on my stand-up paddleboard (SUP) in a place I had only been once before, Lake Mead on the Arizona-Nevada border. I had spent much of the last year planning and training, and the last month watching and waiting for a window of favorable weather conditions. On November 1, I got it.

For the first three days, my friend and I had ideal conditions for paddling: virtually no wind and a few clouds here and there to keep the sun from baking us. Easy going! On the fourth day, which was also my first day on my own, though, things changed…

Despite a bullying headwind for about five miles, I ended up paddling hard and long, almost 12 miles. When I found a good camp for the night, it was completely overcast. Even though I was tired, I still went exploring as the day came to a close. After all, I had never seen this foreign landscape before.

Right after the sun went down, all of a sudden, BOOM! The sky exploded. It was off the hook!

I thought, “How delicious! How delicious this sunset; how delicious this chance to be in such a magnificent place; how delicious to feel SO alive right now! And how delicious brownies would be right about now!!!” The photo above resulted. (So did two pans of brownies when I returned home…)

After nine days–two of which I spent in camp on high wind delay–I paddled just over 60 miles from South Cove to Kingman Wash. I finished last Friday morning. It was likely one of the first crossings of Lake Mead (the largest reservoir in the United States) by a woman on a SUP. Regardless, it was definitely a grand adventure!

One where I learned more about the tenacity of the Colorado River as it’s transformed (once again) from a river to a reservoir. I witnessed indescribable beauty in the land and lake. I tested my outdoor skills through high winds, equipment failures (broken sunglasses, paddle, and tent poles), and an accidental capsize 50 yards from shore. But most importantly, I listened to the wisdom of the river.

The journey reiterated the life lessons I have learned since 2015, when my life took an unexpected left-hand turn and I attempted paddle across Lake Powell—a trip I took to cope with my struggles with loss, one that, like life, didn’t quite go according to plan. My friend, the river, reminded me to keep going with the flow. And always keep your paddle all in.

More photos, stories, and thoughts to come…stay tuned…

CM on CR_Lake Mead

From the first day, about two to three hours after we started (aka, before the headwinds, LOL). I’m standing on the sand bar created by the Colorado River meeting Lake Mead. Photo courtesy Scott Lefler.