Phone Friday IX

It’s Friday again so here’s another selection of phone photos for a very frosty Phone Friday, aka Frosty Friday or even Frosty Phone Friday! These were all taken sometime in the past two weeks as we encountered winter on various hikes in northern Washington and BC.

Winter is doing its best to make its presence felt, although it hasn’t really succeeded up to now. The upside to that is we’ve easily been able to access quite a few hikes without the need of our snowshoes and without risk of avalanches.

  1. At the end of our hike on the Chain Lakes circuit, we stopped off at the famous Picture Lake to see if we could catch any sunset light on Mount Shuksan. For the briefest moment we could see the faintest glimmer of light on Shuksan’s peaks and I quickly took a few shots. By the time I looked up again the light had gone.
  2. It’s hard to make out in this photo but I took it because the ice had formed a shape a bit like a duck’s or a swan’s head.
  3. Along the trail to Heliotrope Ridge we had to cross a couple of mostly frozen creeks, which was much easier than I’ve read it can be in summer. The creeks were still running beneath the ice, and in places the flowing water could be seen through gaps. It was the gaps that interested me, providing a contrasting background that highlighted the shapes along their edge.
  4. The Coleman Glacier greets you at the end of the Heliotrope Ridge trail, a stunning blue and white mass of ice and snow fractured into dozens of deep crevasses. We didn’t have the best light owing to our late-ish start but the blue of the crevasse walls was still intense.
  5. Our third hike in the Mount Baker area took us up to Yellow Aster Butte, a place we’d visited on a beautiful autumn day back in 2010. This time we had the trail entirely to ourselves and enjoyed the hike up as far as this view of the summit of Yellow Aster Butte and the Border Peaks. What can’t be seen in this photo is the freezing gale-force wind whipping the snow around our ankles and taking our breath away. A few quick photos and it was time to hastily retrace our steps.
  6. About 40 minutes after setting off on the trail to Elfin Lakes, the trail passes a creek cascading down a short rock face. I call the lower section of this cascade Zig-Zag Falls due to the way the water is diverted this way then that by the angled rock. Unsurprisingly, the edges of the creek were adorned with ice that nicely framed the moving water.
  7. In the frozen puddles in the ditch alongside the trail, needles of ice had formed overlapping patterns as they grew towards the centre. In this puddle, they hadn’t quite met in the middle, the thinner ice allowing some contrast into the scene. Perhaps my favourite photo of the day.
  8. Both Elfin Lakes had frozen over, but it looked like someone had been throwing rocks in while the ice was thickening, creating an ice crater complete with rim and ejecta. Of course, it could be that the rock has been there for some time and the pattern reflects the manner in which the ice froze. Who knows?
  9. Last but not least, this is one of my favourite views of the Garibaldi massif from Elfin Lakes. In summer, a calm day offers up a perfect reflection of the mountain. Today we had a mix of clear ice and “frosted” ice giving a two-tone reflection. It’s hard to believe from this angle, but the dominant peak is actually lower than the summit of Mount Garibaldi itself, that tooth-like peak to its right.
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Heliotrope sunset

Sunset light on the summit of Mount Baker, a view through a gap in the trees along the road – no hiking needed!

After a hike to Heliotrope Ridge that yielded stunning views of the Coleman Glacier carving its way down the north-western slopes of Mount Baker, I had no expectations of seeing something as photo-worthy. And yet as we drove away from the parking lot, a gap in the trees opened up to reveal an uninterrupted view straight up to the summit, illuminated from the side by the last warm light of the afternoon.

We dashed off a handful of photos using the telephoto lens, alternating between ISO 400 and 800 to ensure reasonable shutter speeds to work around the iffy image stabilization (I’ve learned the hard way that it’s better to get a sharp noisy image than a blurry clean one). It’s rare, but sometimes I do pre-visualize a particular crop when I size up a scene. In this case, I felt an Instagram-friendly square crop would easily work with the shape of the summit, the amount of light and shadow, and the wall of snow-specked rock angling down and sweeping to the left.

That’s not to say that the original aspect ratio was not a pleasing photo: the (nearly) full image is up on our Flickr account:
Heliotrope Ridge, 11 Nov 2018
Sometimes multiple images can be had from a single photo and I’ve had a few instances where I can’t decide which crop or processing settings I prefer. One way of approaching the decision is to to decide which story I want the picture to tell. As one of the photographers I follow on YouTube says, make the picture about something, rather than of something.

But it’s fine (and indeed probably desirable) to create all those different images and let them gel for a while to see which one has lasting appeal. In some cases the answer is all of them, and in others it’s none!

For this photo, I don’t yet know. I still like them both.

On Ptarmigan (Ridge)

Yet another one of those hikes that had been on our radar for some time. The day we hiked in was thick, heavy mist with almost zero visibility. This, combined with exceedingly vague directions, meant that we walked right past the “official” camping area along the way, and we found ourselves on a flat part of the trail with cleared tent-sized patches, snow fields or glaciers either side of us. It turned out that we camped on an area that usually remains snow-covered, but with the low-snow winter before and the warm summer, that snow had melted out, leaving behind a tempting (if mucky) camping area.

As dusk approached, the clouds broke and the sun shone through, lighting up our surroundings for a few brief moments with the most surreal light before fading into the evening. The clouds drifted away overnight and we were greeted by a cloudless sunrise that allowed us to see our location for the first time. And what a location! We explored the trail to its end with stupendous views of Mt Baker and its many glaciers, before packing up and walking back past the daytime crowds to the car.

1. Camping on Mars? No, just Ptarmigan Ridge in the mist and drizzle with a little help from the setting sun.

The light was unreal as the setting sun lit up the mist and clouds around us; it really felt like we could have been camping on Mars. We had been in heavy grey mist all day up to this point and we got the first inkling that the clouds might just clear for us on the following day. Unfortunately, we pitched our tent facing the wrong direction and had to build a wall at one end to prevent the drizzle soaking through the mesh at the foot of our sleeping compartment. Then we placed our seat pads between our sleeping bags and the mesh. It worked: our sleeping bags were still dry in the morning, but a lesson learned!

2. The morning after the night before – the mist has cleared, the sun has risen and yesterday’s gloom has been forgotten.

And so we could now see where we were – spectacular! While Mt Baker is considerably foreshortened here, and diminished photographically, this is nevertheless a stunning place to wake up in, and I couldn’t resist a tent shot, especially with extent of the glacier behind us. The trail goes up to the left out of the frame, up steep slopes and over rocky sections to a viewpoint with sheer drops down to the glaciers on Mt Baker, and thankfully avoids the ice altogether. Well worth doing!

3. Clouds at the feet of Mt Shuksan.

In the other direction lay Mt Shuksan, the clouds beginning to bubble up in the valleys. I really like the effect of the clouds here, as they just fill the valleys to the height of the ridges. I’d woken up before sunrise to watch the sky lighten and change colour, the sun eventually peeking over the shoulder of Shuksan and turning Mt Baker various shades of pink, orange, and yellow before becoming dazzling white. Later in the day, those valley clouds would rise up and engulf us again on our walk back to the trailhead.

4. Mount Baker. ‘Nuff said.

Walking back to the trailhead, we had to keep checking behind us at the view we didn’t have on our hike in the day before. Mt Baker looms large for most of the way. In this shot, I like how the diagonal line of the ridge mimics the slope of Mt Baker itself. Eventually, though, the trail turns a corner and Mt Baker remains hidden for the last section until we return to the parking lot, where we turn for one last view before driving home.