Photo gallery from my July 2010 float trip down the Marsh Fork of the Canning River, in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.

In June I spent 8 hours flying across the Brooks Range mountains in transit to specific locations for photography trips. While this time was transport-oriented and not dedicated to aerial photography, I was able to grab a few shots off along the way. I was in a de Havilland Beaver flown by Dirk Nickisch of Coyote Air. The front seat has a small sliding window that opens offering enough room for a lens to get a clear shot. While not perfect, it is a functional portal that permits some reasonable photography. My specific efforts at aerial photography last year were heavily thwarted by forest fire smoke so I was happy this year to see a little bit of rain (although a little too much on my last trip down the Canning river–posts on that coming soon). The immensity of the Brooks range and the seemingly unending rivers that flow out of the region is stunning. Here are a few shots I took in June.

The Kobuk river in the western Brooks range is designated a wild and scenic river. Last weekend was the first time I’ve flown over it, and it kindled an interest to make a river trip sometime in the near future. Break up this year along Alaska’s major river systems of the interior was relatively gentle, in comparison to other years when ice jams generated high water and floods throughout the Yukon river basin. While ice still filled the main channel of the Kobuk it was flowing without obstruction.

The dark and foreboding clouds looming over the hills makes for a moody scene, and it reminds me how much I like this type of lighting as opposed to a cloudless, blue sky day. Although, I would have to say that the blue sky days sure make flying a little more predictable. This particular plane was not outfitted with a window that opened enough for unobstructed photography, so I had to shoot through the glass, something I’m not keen to normally do. However, the glass was very clean, and the results are not bad. It made me think however, that some sort of black fabric, like the old large format photographers used to drape over their head, would be a way to minimize reflections on the glass. But you would have to figure some way to attach it just above the top of the window. Perhaps its time for a little duct tape and piece of black fabric, it could prove useful on the next bush flight–pending the pilots approval of course. . .

It’s been a long time since I’ve photographed in Alaska, 4 months to be exact. International travel and surgery have kept me busy but it felt good to venture into one of my favorite places over the weekend, the Brooks Range, a massive range that arcs across Alaska’s arctic. I was doing an assignment for Cessna magazine, and the destination was a wilderness lodge in the Western Brooks range, and the Gates of the Arctic National Preserve. I can’t say too much about the project prior to publication, but it was filled with the usual logistical challenges of flying in bush Alaska. It was my first time to use the 5DII for assignment video, which will be included in an online version of the magazine. Shooting both stills and video divides the focus considerably!

Break-up, that transitional period that takes us from white snow to brown earth and flowing rivers is just about complete in the interior, but is still underway in the Brooks range. We landed the plane on wheels, on an ice covered lake, but that means of access is just about finished. The ice is beginning to soften and become too unstable, and pontoon floats will be the landing gear for future trips.

I find it very cleansing to the soul to fly over this vast and remote area, filled with lake after river after mountain, for a long, long time. The light in general was nothing spectacular, but the big space did me well, and it was wonderful way to re enter into photographing back in Alaska again.

On the Arctic photo tour that I guide each year, our departure from Kaktovik, Alaska was delayed a few hours due to mechanical problems with the airplane. This resulted in a different plane showing up about three hours later. It was a Caravan, and the first time I’ve flown in one. It is a fantastic plane which seated 9 of us comfortably, but the best part was the large and clear windows. It is rare to end up in any plane with glass clear enough to shoot through. However, I was able to grab shoot a handfull of frames during the 40 minute flight to Prudhoe Bay. Given the clear day and nice weather, the pilots were amiable to fly about 1000ft for most of the journey. This photo reveals interesting current flow as the ice forms in small pancake-like circles. It won’t be long and the sea ice will be solid enough for the polar bears to trek upon.

If you have been following my blog recently, you have seen a few images of my attempts of aerial photography in the Brooks range mountains of northern Alaska. My two trips prior to this one were confounded by the forest fire smoke that engulfed much of Alaska’s interior. Arranging and coordinating flying in accordance with the proper weather and lighting is tricky. It is further complicated by the distance between my home and this location, and the sheer vastness and weather variation of the region itself. Fortunately on this last trip, I was able to make two flights. The first one was touch and go, moving through rain showers and squalls, which produced some interesting lighting and mood, reflected in this photo of the Hammond river in the Gates of the Arctic National Park. The second trip, which was a bluebird, cloudless day, was by far less interesting. Contrary to what the average person thinks, a clear cloudless day is not the preferred scenario for a landscape photographer. Clouds obscure light, which introduce shadow and variation of tone–not total overcast clouds, but the type that let the light dance around them a bit. I was able to get a few good images on this trip but hope to be back there again in a week or so hoping for the seemingly elusive perfect conditions. Autumn and it’s richly colored landscape is under transformation right now, and one week’s more time should render it brilliant.

I flew with Coyote Air in a Dehavilland beaver with the door removed. Hooked in with a harness anchored to the seat mounts, it is a comfortable feel, even looking straight down at the radical landscapes below. As for my camera, I clip that into a shoulder harness made by Kinesis Gear, which has proved a valuable little piece of equipment not only for aerial photography work, but also to relieve the weight of heavy cameras hanging from my neck!

You might wonder why I shot this at ISO 800. I did so for the main reason of keeping the shutter speed high. Camera blur can creep in quite easily based on how much I have to torque and twist my body position, which sometimes makes me touch the frame of the plane, transferring engine vibration. Additionally, if the lens protrudes just a few inches into the draft of the open door, it will quickly generate wind vibration. Photographing while hanging out of the door of a plane sounds really cool, but because of the wind and vibration, it is not a very “true to the trade” concept. I must confess though, I bet it would be a rush indeed!

My last post about the Brooks range reflected the common frustration of photographing in Alaska’s interior with summer forest fires. In early June, I had the chance to fly across the Brooks range through the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge doing some aerial photography. This was before the smoke and fire season build up in the interior, and, I thought it a timely to post a few of those images in light of my last failed attempt.

Flying over the Brooks range will forever readjust ones mind in respect to wilderness, vastness and sheer rugged beauty. It’s really hard to process such giant spaces; mountains ridges, then rivers, then more mountains, then more rivers, and on it goes, all without habitation. My flight was about 2 hours from the Arctic ocean to Coldfoot, with the back door off the Dehaviland Beaver. The pilot, Dirk Nickisch and his wife Danielle (www.flycoyote.com), run a flight service out of Coldfoot. Dirk knows what he is doing and I always feel safe flying with him.

On a more techy note, upon reviewing the digital files, I was reminded that a high shutter speed is so essential. I’ve done aerials from many different planes, and in many different conditions and have eeked by in some circumstances with a shutter speed of 1/250 or so, but given all the factors that come into play, about 1/800 sec is a good minimum. Even at 1/400 sec, I had some motion blur (not vibration blur) of foreground mountains when flying by.

Below are a few scenes from this fantastic region.

At the time I’m writing this, there are 69 forest fires burning in Alaska. They dominate Alaska’s interior region, where a hot and dry climate creates the setting for ignition by lightning. So far, approximately 1.5 million acres of land has burned this year. Not as bad as the 7 million acres burned in 2004, but the smoke is ubiquitous across the interior. It appears in degree of thickness based on the wind speed and direction.

The smoke is a little demon to a landscape photographer (actually, a big demon). I just returned from the Brooks range where I had planned some aerial photography. Much to my disappointment, the smoke covered hundreds of miles of the Brooks range mountains due to winds out from the south, and I scarcely took a photo, save to show how bad the smoke was.

If you have ever been in the air in that country, you will know how disheartening it is to look but not see, the amazing beauty of the mountain landscapes. But, that is part of the game and the business of landscape photography. Forest fires have their rightful place in an ecosystem and its cycle of life. Furthermore, Alaska seems to withhold her secrets, even from the most ardent pursuer. But, I have hopes at a few more attempts and will post those results, should that come to fruition!

In the late 1700′s, the first recorded European to set foot on Alaska was George Steller, a naturalist on the Russian expedition led by Vitus Bering. Steller landed on a rugged prominence called Kayak Island, a 23 mile island directly exposed to the violent waters of the Gulf of Alaska. A great book on details of the expedition can be found in “Where the Sea Breaks its Back” by Cory Ford.

It is reported that many ships have been lost in the nearby tumultuous currents, and a lighthouse made of cement still sits on its south western shore. We landed on a sandy beach in a small bush plane on wheels, and did a little exploring. A plaque commemorating the Russia/Alaska encounter has been posted on the rock face of a cliff along the north east shore. It is a wild place, visited by very few people. Fortunately, the clear and wind free skies offered conditions suitable for the trip. I was tucked in the way back seat of the airplane, shooting through less than clear windows, so the aerial pictures were more documentary in nature.

FINALLY!

A continual source of frustration with my previous blog platform was the very small photos afforded in their presentation. As a photographer, who appreciates big images, it drove me nuts. So welcome to a new blog, a new space, with much better customization and options for larger photos, that one can truly enjoy. I realize that for some who have a smaller monitor, some scrolling might be required, sorry about that but I defaulted to the bigger screen benefit. The blog look will be tweaked a bit more in the next month or so. I’ve had some problems migrating the posts from the other blog, but hope to get that resolved sometime soon. In the meanwhile, enjoy the big new photos! Here are a few from a previous post on a trip the Arrigetch peaks in Alaska’s arctic–now these are a size you can enjoy!