The Merced River in Winter in the Valley Floor.
-David
Showing posts with label Photography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Photography. Show all posts
Monday, February 2, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Death Valley - Phototrip
Death Valley National Park.
My Father, Jim and I hopped in the car and headed towards the mecca of photography in California, Death Valley.
Jim had just recently purchased a new Nikon D80, I had my D70 and the Dave Gatley had practically every professional camera Nikon makes, along with more gadgets and gizmos than circuit city; which to his credit are fantastically sweet.
We spontaneously decided a trip of epic photojournalistic proportions was long overdue, promptly jumped in the car and headed north east.
Desert Glass turned purple by decades of unrelenting sun, left behind by miners.
For those of you who haven't been, or have only driven through... Death Valley is quite an interesting place, aside from the photography. In the early 1900's it was a magnet for mining boom towns, which seemed to appear overnight in the middle of no where. Thousands of people would prode and poke the mountain sides hoping to strike it rich, however they ultimately found nothing but a godforsaken landscape and shattered dreams. Sucks for them, but it's pretty freaking sweet for us.
In their haste, they left behind them mountains of trash, debris, tools, women, children and apparently some mules. Which when mixed with 120+ degree weather, 300+ days of sunlight, and not much human life to speak of, makes for sweet photo fodder.
Some sort of buckety/kettley/boxey bin of rust and awesomness.
I found this admist a mass graveyard of tin cans, broken glass, rusted nails and other misc. ghost town remnants.
Death Valley Sand Dunes in the early morning sunlight.
When we weren't rumaging through ghost towns dump yards, we found ourselves scampering across the windswept sand dunes in the middle of the valley. Patted down from a rare but brief overnight soaking, the dunes were slightly frozen in their normally fluid state. Winds pick up across the valley with unbelievable strength and constantly reshape the surfaces of these dunes.
Devil's Cornfield - Death Valley
I guess those bushes look like corn....if you're blind, and I guess what with them being in death valley and all they are a little ominous, but "Devil's Cornfield"? Really? More like "Sandy McBushes Bushfield" if you ask me, but I'm no nameyologist.
Wild Burros - Rhyolite, Nevada
We chased down these poor asses like our dinner depended on it. Armed with telephotoish lenses and a yearning for some action shots, we geared up and chased the heard:
Dave and Jim plotting their attack.
While Dave and Jim attacked from above, I flanked the dumb-asses and almost caught them off gaurd, that was of course until my dad came storming up the mountain side in his black, tank like tahoe. Thanks Dad. =)
Jim at Ubehebe Crate - Death Valley, CA
Dave Gatley working his magic at Ubehebe Crater.
Black, volcanic rock around the base of Ubehebe Crater.
A little over-photoshopped image of some old mining ruins near Badwater Basin in the valley. The winds were blowing about 40+ mph while I shot this. Strong enough to send Jim chasing after his hat a good 100 yards.
Badwater - Death Valley
The recent rains left behind some water on the valley floor, I've never seen water here in all the time I've visited the park, a definite bonus.
-David
Monday, March 17, 2008
Arizona -Spring Training - A's vs. Royals
Major League Baseball Spring 08
Tempe, AZ.
Kansas City Royals vs. Oakland A's
Despite the Padres being split between Tucson and Beijing, Jim and I represented the club well.
The Phoenix Municipal Stadium in Tempe is one of the oldest parks in all of Phoenix. Despite its age, it is by far one of the most enjoyable venues. Simple food menus, good beer, and great seats for 10 bucks. The outfield is decorated with billboards marketing local establishments from bailbondsmen to steakhouses; truely capturing the essence of Single A baseball,cheap seats, cheesy fan contests and quality baseball. In stark contrast to the newer fields like Peoria who cater to the masses and sell out the sport like a cheap whore...OK well not exactly...but it's nice seeing baseball in a stadium that cares less about money and more about fans.
10 dollar seats.
100 dollar view.
Bannister, warming up for the Royals....who suck terribly...still.
Timing this shot was more blind luck than skill. Despite my camera gear, catching a 90 mph pitch and the swinging bat is practically impossible.
Great game. Enjoyed the company even more. Can't wait till tomorrows. I'll post pictures soon.
-David
Tempe, AZ.
Kansas City Royals vs. Oakland A's
Despite the Padres being split between Tucson and Beijing, Jim and I represented the club well.
The Phoenix Municipal Stadium in Tempe is one of the oldest parks in all of Phoenix. Despite its age, it is by far one of the most enjoyable venues. Simple food menus, good beer, and great seats for 10 bucks. The outfield is decorated with billboards marketing local establishments from bailbondsmen to steakhouses; truely capturing the essence of Single A baseball,cheap seats, cheesy fan contests and quality baseball. In stark contrast to the newer fields like Peoria who cater to the masses and sell out the sport like a cheap whore...OK well not exactly...but it's nice seeing baseball in a stadium that cares less about money and more about fans.
10 dollar seats.
100 dollar view.
Bannister, warming up for the Royals....who suck terribly...still.
Timing this shot was more blind luck than skill. Despite my camera gear, catching a 90 mph pitch and the swinging bat is practically impossible.
Great game. Enjoyed the company even more. Can't wait till tomorrows. I'll post pictures soon.
-David
Monday, January 14, 2008
Night Photography
California State University San Marcos at night. This is one of the more beautiful campuses in San Diego, albeit new and undeveloped for the most part.
Wild Fires in Poway circa 2003 at Espola Rd and Twin Peaks. In a weird twist of Irony, almost everywhere this fire burned in 2003 was saved in 07 when the Witch Creek fire gutted most of the surrounding area.
Point Loma Sunset. That tiny spec in the middle of the water is a sail boat. I really try to stay away from sunset photos as they are pretty cliche, but every now and then you can't help but be amazed by the setting sun.
Washington D.C. Backyard summer nights. 100 degrees, humid, fireflys, bbq's, cold beer and a tiki hut.
Candy Cane Lane, Poway, CA. Think the Griswalds Christmas lights....but on crack. The entire neighborhood follows suit and about 30 houses combine forces for a month to put on this amazing display. Which, I'm pretty sure is visible from space.
San Diego County Fair Fireworks, not the most spectacular in San Diego, by any means, but you can't beat the ocean front location.
Click to enlarge, San Diego Coastline Fireworks. This is overlooking dog beach in Del Mar with La Jolla off in the distance. Believe it or not, those fireworks are from Sea World.
Enjoy,
-David
Del Mar Nightscape
Snapped these a while ago in Del Mar, California. Above is a shot of the coaster train that runs up the coast of southern California. Below is a shot from Powerhouse Park, Del Mar at 15th st.
I love these photos for many reasons, the main I guess is because I find myself surfing here in the summer more than anywhere else.
Enjoy.
-David
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Big Surf Revisited
Wow... 6000 people in 3 days is a lot of visitors...Gatlog was overwhelmed ;)
I guess that means people like looking at big waves...that or I've become way too big of a web geek for my own good. Anyhow, I thought I would contrast the waves from last week with that of those we had 2 years ago, on what was really "Big Wednesday". Ironically, these were shot December 22th 2005, almost exactly 2 years ago.
Taken from roughly the same spot as my photos from last week, except I used way too much lens that time. Notice how the wave fills the entire frame. Unfortunately you lose most of your perspective as to just how large that wave is, although... I think you can still get the point ;) I'm no wave measurement expert, but in my years as a surfer I'd guess thats over a 20 ft. face he's about to rocket down...and at least a ton of water.
This was taken from Swamis that same day a little north of La Jolla.
Swamis as seen from afar. Keep in mind that you have to paddle through all that white water to get to the surf. Basically like running a never ending marathon, without being able to breath, in freezing water.... and with Semi Trucks running you over every 5 seconds. It's AWESOME... ;) And then you get to try and surf...makes sense right? I didn't think so.
This absolutely breaks my heart. That board is easily 600-700 dollars. An Al Merrick Channel Islands Gun...basically a Ferrari for large surf. Either he is the richest moron on the planet, or the poorest incredible surfer...I never found out.
Back at the Cove. La Jolla just goes monstrous when the conditions are right. And when you mix in a bunch of mid-life-crisis-loving older guys, 8 ft boards, and fear...you get some scary results...they ended up running into each other... it was great!
The "LJC" as we lovingly refer to it. The cove at it's greatest.
This is Black's beach on the same day as well. I was a busy, photo happy, nut ball that day. As seen from the La Jolla Glider Port looking down. This was shot with a 700 mm lens with a teleconverter. Basically I was shooting with 900mm worth of lens, and I was still far away, but still, it made for some great photos.
That little speck on that wave is a person...a very, albeit temporarily, happy person. (click to enlarge)
Black's beach doing it's impression of heaven on surfing earth...at least for me...I'm sure some of those guys found it to be a little more like hell...but to each his own... I guess.
Looking at La Jolla Cove from the Glider Port. You have to understand that is a rather large distance between us. To make out wave shapes from as far away as I was is just looney. They estimated waves then to be as large as 20ft - 30ft. I don't think I saw a 30 footer out there, but I wouldn't surprise me if there were.
(Again, all these shots were taken December 22, 2005)
It's really a rare thing to see waves this large, these photos rob you of the shear power they bring with them. The waves explode in every sense when they break. Tons of water are thrown around with such fury it's unimaginable. However, despite the chaos these waves bring, there are occasional moments where a surfer tucks into a barrel and the whole setting becomes so serene and peaceful. The crowd, if there is any, generally holds its breath and gets goosebumps, and when the surfer emerges from his or her watery grave the entire pack of surfers greets him with hoots and hollers. It is really quite a sight.
-David
I guess that means people like looking at big waves...that or I've become way too big of a web geek for my own good. Anyhow, I thought I would contrast the waves from last week with that of those we had 2 years ago, on what was really "Big Wednesday". Ironically, these were shot December 22th 2005, almost exactly 2 years ago.
Taken from roughly the same spot as my photos from last week, except I used way too much lens that time. Notice how the wave fills the entire frame. Unfortunately you lose most of your perspective as to just how large that wave is, although... I think you can still get the point ;) I'm no wave measurement expert, but in my years as a surfer I'd guess thats over a 20 ft. face he's about to rocket down...and at least a ton of water.
This was taken from Swamis that same day a little north of La Jolla.
Swamis as seen from afar. Keep in mind that you have to paddle through all that white water to get to the surf. Basically like running a never ending marathon, without being able to breath, in freezing water.... and with Semi Trucks running you over every 5 seconds. It's AWESOME... ;) And then you get to try and surf...makes sense right? I didn't think so.
This absolutely breaks my heart. That board is easily 600-700 dollars. An Al Merrick Channel Islands Gun...basically a Ferrari for large surf. Either he is the richest moron on the planet, or the poorest incredible surfer...I never found out.
Back at the Cove. La Jolla just goes monstrous when the conditions are right. And when you mix in a bunch of mid-life-crisis-loving older guys, 8 ft boards, and fear...you get some scary results...they ended up running into each other... it was great!
The "LJC" as we lovingly refer to it. The cove at it's greatest.
This is Black's beach on the same day as well. I was a busy, photo happy, nut ball that day. As seen from the La Jolla Glider Port looking down. This was shot with a 700 mm lens with a teleconverter. Basically I was shooting with 900mm worth of lens, and I was still far away, but still, it made for some great photos.
That little speck on that wave is a person...a very, albeit temporarily, happy person. (click to enlarge)
Black's beach doing it's impression of heaven on surfing earth...at least for me...I'm sure some of those guys found it to be a little more like hell...but to each his own... I guess.
Looking at La Jolla Cove from the Glider Port. You have to understand that is a rather large distance between us. To make out wave shapes from as far away as I was is just looney. They estimated waves then to be as large as 20ft - 30ft. I don't think I saw a 30 footer out there, but I wouldn't surprise me if there were.
(Again, all these shots were taken December 22, 2005)
It's really a rare thing to see waves this large, these photos rob you of the shear power they bring with them. The waves explode in every sense when they break. Tons of water are thrown around with such fury it's unimaginable. However, despite the chaos these waves bring, there are occasional moments where a surfer tucks into a barrel and the whole setting becomes so serene and peaceful. The crowd, if there is any, generally holds its breath and gets goosebumps, and when the surfer emerges from his or her watery grave the entire pack of surfers greets him with hoots and hollers. It is really quite a sight.
-David
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Return to Yosemite
So we're back...unfortunately. If I sound depressed writing this blog it's probably because my trip is over, the Chargers suck and the Padres have broken my heart...again.
But enough of that!
Here are some photos of my last trip.
Like always, the Park never disappoints.
I bummed a ride up with Jessica's dad Jim, and her uncle Joe. Two Jersey brothers with foul mouths, strange bodily noises, good taste in beer, and old stories I have been sworn to secrecy with; quality gentlemen in my book.
Jessica's Uncle, a few of her father's friends and myself decided to embark on a 24 mile hike on a whim Friday night. Promising to wake up early the next morning (and by early I mean 4:45 am) we would meet at the trail head and head out. If it weren't for Jessica's uncle Joe, I would never have gotten out of that bed. It must have been like -5687 degrees and it was still dark when I stumbled out of my sleeping bag cocoon. The freaking stars were still out for heavens sake. If you know me at all, you know I don't really function properly until I've been awake for at least a couple hours, and well this morning was no exception. Had I not prepared the night before, I would have tried that hike wearing only my boxers, my sandals, and brought no food with me other than some gum and peanuts. I grabbed my stuff, through on some clothes, forgot to eat breakfast and we shivered our way down the path to the trail head and met up with the rest of the bunch.
If you're not familiar with Yosemite, the magnitude of this hike may be lost in translation, but I have to say that this was by far the most challenging hike I have ever done. Not necessarily for the danger or trail conditions, the danger was low and the trail was wonderfully well kept the entire way; but more for the freaking length of the hike and the altitude we traversed.
Starting at the valley floor of 3000 ft. we ended at the peak of Clouds Rest (well above half dome) at 10,000 ft. That's a 7000 ft elevation in only 12 miles. Joe and I had wisely decided to try out this hike after consuming about 10 beers a piece the night before. Man, did we pay for that in the first 3 miles. I must have drank my entire body weight in water in about 2 hours. Anyhow, after the hangovers wore off, and the sun came up we found ourselves walking beneath half dome and surrounded by hundred foot pine trees, immense mountain peaks, and no people to speak of whatsoever. The trail, for being as well traversed and maintained as it was, was pretty freaking evil. The damn thing never flattened out, it just kept going up and up and up.
Like some godforsaken ramp to nowhere this trail never let up. I consider myself in pretty good shape, and I was with some older guys who weren't any slouches either, but man did that trail kick my ass. It was well worth it though. The view from the top was breathtaking, literally at 10,000 feet breathing is an effort in it's own right. Not only did my feet feel like an elephant had been doing jumping jacks on them for the past 6 hours, but atop the peak my lungs felt like Evander Hollifield had socked me in the gut a few times. It was looney, but incredible. I must have passed out on the mtn. for about 45 minutes. I think I only snapped about 6 photos up there. Which is a testament to how exhausted I was, I generally take 20 photos of a flower, when there's a 360 degree view of the world's most beautiful landscape, and I only take 6 photos, my brain is operating on a very limited budget. But they came out alright, I suppose. =)
As soon as woke up and popped off those shots, the wind picked up and it must have dropped the temperature about 10 degrees (to something like 45-50 degrees), so we decided to head back.
We blazed down that trail and got about half way back in no time when our bodies started to give out. Well mine and Joe's at least. The three other guys ran marathons and crap and felt no pain or discomfort whatsoever, the jerks. My knees started to feel like the were melting into a rubbery, burning mess. we had another 3000 feet to drop in about 3 miles and I could barely move my feet. It was nuts. I think Joe and I must have uttered more curse words in those 3 miles than mankind has ever uttered in the collective history of civilization.
But we made it. Fittingly, our 24 mile marathon of torture trail blended into the 6 mile hike grandma can take to go see the pretty waterfalls. So as we were grasping for every inch of trail like dying men in the sahara desert, little kids just learning to walk were sprinting by us, old ladies were pushing us aside with their walkers, German tourists were posing next to us taking photos...it was humiliating. But worth it, that hike was awesome.
The next few days revolved around drinking beer, swallowing 800 mg of pain killers, riding bikes, and limping around the valley floor. Jim, Joe and I ran into a mama bear and her cub on accident, and while wrestling a bear sounded like a really cool idea, we just gave them a wide birth and took hundreds of photos.
We spent our afternoons on sandy river beds watching rock climbers scaling El Capitan and passing out in the sunlight while the wind rushed through the thick pines surrounding us. We spent the last few nights in our tent cabin listening to the crazy conversations of Germans, Asians, children and bears rummaging through trash. All in all it was just what I thought it would be, a giant breath of fresh air and a break from the daily grind.
gain.
But enough of that!
Here are some photos of my last trip.
Like always, the Park never disappoints.
I bummed a ride up with Jessica's dad Jim, and her uncle Joe. Two Jersey brothers with foul mouths, strange bodily noises, good taste in beer, and old stories I have been sworn to secrecy with; quality gentlemen in my book.
Jessica's Uncle, a few of her father's friends and myself decided to embark on a 24 mile hike on a whim Friday night. Promising to wake up early the next morning (and by early I mean 4:45 am) we would meet at the trail head and head out. If it weren't for Jessica's uncle Joe, I would never have gotten out of that bed. It must have been like -5687 degrees and it was still dark when I stumbled out of my sleeping bag cocoon. The freaking stars were still out for heavens sake. If you know me at all, you know I don't really function properly until I've been awake for at least a couple hours, and well this morning was no exception. Had I not prepared the night before, I would have tried that hike wearing only my boxers, my sandals, and brought no food with me other than some gum and peanuts. I grabbed my stuff, through on some clothes, forgot to eat breakfast and we shivered our way down the path to the trail head and met up with the rest of the bunch.
If you're not familiar with Yosemite, the magnitude of this hike may be lost in translation, but I have to say that this was by far the most challenging hike I have ever done. Not necessarily for the danger or trail conditions, the danger was low and the trail was wonderfully well kept the entire way; but more for the freaking length of the hike and the altitude we traversed.
Starting at the valley floor of 3000 ft. we ended at the peak of Clouds Rest (well above half dome) at 10,000 ft. That's a 7000 ft elevation in only 12 miles. Joe and I had wisely decided to try out this hike after consuming about 10 beers a piece the night before. Man, did we pay for that in the first 3 miles. I must have drank my entire body weight in water in about 2 hours. Anyhow, after the hangovers wore off, and the sun came up we found ourselves walking beneath half dome and surrounded by hundred foot pine trees, immense mountain peaks, and no people to speak of whatsoever. The trail, for being as well traversed and maintained as it was, was pretty freaking evil. The damn thing never flattened out, it just kept going up and up and up.
Like some godforsaken ramp to nowhere this trail never let up. I consider myself in pretty good shape, and I was with some older guys who weren't any slouches either, but man did that trail kick my ass. It was well worth it though. The view from the top was breathtaking, literally at 10,000 feet breathing is an effort in it's own right. Not only did my feet feel like an elephant had been doing jumping jacks on them for the past 6 hours, but atop the peak my lungs felt like Evander Hollifield had socked me in the gut a few times. It was looney, but incredible. I must have passed out on the mtn. for about 45 minutes. I think I only snapped about 6 photos up there. Which is a testament to how exhausted I was, I generally take 20 photos of a flower, when there's a 360 degree view of the world's most beautiful landscape, and I only take 6 photos, my brain is operating on a very limited budget. But they came out alright, I suppose. =)
As soon as woke up and popped off those shots, the wind picked up and it must have dropped the temperature about 10 degrees (to something like 45-50 degrees), so we decided to head back.
We blazed down that trail and got about half way back in no time when our bodies started to give out. Well mine and Joe's at least. The three other guys ran marathons and crap and felt no pain or discomfort whatsoever, the jerks. My knees started to feel like the were melting into a rubbery, burning mess. we had another 3000 feet to drop in about 3 miles and I could barely move my feet. It was nuts. I think Joe and I must have uttered more curse words in those 3 miles than mankind has ever uttered in the collective history of civilization.
But we made it. Fittingly, our 24 mile marathon of torture trail blended into the 6 mile hike grandma can take to go see the pretty waterfalls. So as we were grasping for every inch of trail like dying men in the sahara desert, little kids just learning to walk were sprinting by us, old ladies were pushing us aside with their walkers, German tourists were posing next to us taking photos...it was humiliating. But worth it, that hike was awesome.
The next few days revolved around drinking beer, swallowing 800 mg of pain killers, riding bikes, and limping around the valley floor. Jim, Joe and I ran into a mama bear and her cub on accident, and while wrestling a bear sounded like a really cool idea, we just gave them a wide birth and took hundreds of photos.
We spent our afternoons on sandy river beds watching rock climbers scaling El Capitan and passing out in the sunlight while the wind rushed through the thick pines surrounding us. We spent the last few nights in our tent cabin listening to the crazy conversations of Germans, Asians, children and bears rummaging through trash. All in all it was just what I thought it would be, a giant breath of fresh air and a break from the daily grind.
gain.
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