During this week I’ll be backpacking and camping in the Gates of the Arctic National Park in Alaska’s remote arctic region. It’s a big area and more specifically I’ll be in the Arrigetch peaks, a dramatic conglomeration of granite spires which are breathtaking to say the least. Packing for a trip that requires me to carry everything for miles on a backpack, including camera gear, mountain clothing and food (in a big bear proof canister required by the Park Service), is not a small task. Time will tell how it all works out. I’m excited to see that place from the ground as I’ve only flown over it in the past. Here is a shot I took a few years ago from my friends plane. I’ll share some imagery upon my return.

Aerial of the Arrigetch Peaks, rugged granite spires in the central Brooks Range of arctic Alaska, Gates of the Arctic National Park. The name means 'fingers of the outstreched hand' in the Inupiat language.

Flying in Bush Alaska

One can access a little bit of Alaska by car, some by water, a lot on foot, and a whole lot by air. When it comes time to getting around in Alaska’s arctic–which has across its lateral spine the monstrous Brooks range–it is time for wings. Much of my remote photographic ventures in the arctic have began and ended with air transport, and the in-between travel has been by hiking and on the river system.

Coyote Air De Havilland Beaver airplane with bush tires for landing on rugged surfaces.

For the safe coming and going, I have pilot Dirk Nickisch to thank, with Coyote Air. Besides being a skilled pilot, Dirk is also an airplane mechanic and understands what kind of machinery it takes to run the complex business of air taxi in the Brooks Range. These images show the modified wheel system on Dirk’s beaver, which are formidable tires that enable landing in some pretty crazy locations.

If you have ever been dropped off in the remote wilderness of Alaska’s arctic, miles and miles away from human civilization, then you will certainly appreciate the buzzing sound of that little airplane when it returns to pick you up a week or two later. And, when you watch Dirk land the plane, you are also thankful for these beefy tires!

The shadow of the Beaver on the tundra in the Noatak Preserve.

Noatak river flows out of the Brooks range in the Gates of the Arctic National Park, Alaska. Canon 5D Mark III, 24-105 f/4L IS (28mm), 1/1000 @ f/5.6, ISO 400

I’m often asked if I shoot black and white. The answer is no, in general. My world is one of color, and while I appreciate both the constraints and liberties of excluding color from an image, I generally prefer the invoked psychological elements that the inclusion of color creates.

But throwing away color opens up some creative opportunities as well, and I’m fond of all imagery that exhibits a powerful use of light and composition. Just for fun, I thought I would play with this photo for a few minutes in Lightroom. It was a pretty quick rendition of the file by reducing the saturation to “0″ and then cranking the blacks and contrast. It creates a rich and energetic scene, which in reality, is far more dramatic than what the human eye actually saw.

I took the image while flying with Dirk Nickisch of Coyote Air, as we traversed across the Noatak river valley in Alaska’s Brooks range. If you have followed my blog, you already know that I’m particularly fond of the magnificent Brooks range. If you are open to the idea, it will change your life in just a few glances, through its sheer immensity and wild ruggedness–it is sort of a quick work of self reduction.

When shooting aerials–use a high, high, high shutter speed, reduce wind drag on the lens as much as possible, and isolate yourself from the plane vibration, and shoot a lot of frames.

Compare with the color version.

Aerial of waves rolling on the long the sandy shores of Softuk bar, Gulf of Alaska, southcentral. Canon 5D Mark II, 24-105 f/4L IS, (45mm) 1/12500 sec @ f/5, ISO 400

The beaches of the outer perimeter of the Copper River Delta, in southcentral Alaska, are broad and sandy. They open to the Gulf of Alaska and the Pacific ocean, so weather can be tumultuous on its shores. On this pleasant day, I did some flying over the Copper River Delta region and we made a landing along this beach, where shorebirds were flying by, waves rolling, and sounds and winds of springs were in the air. The long shallow beach accounts for the repetition of pattern in the waves, as they slowly roll upon the beach. I grabbed this shot out of the rear window of the plane when we banked to make a landing.

Aerial of Bering glacier, southcentral, Alaska. Canon 5d Mark II, 24-105 f/4L IS.

I’ve got just a quick moment to post a photo that I took during an aerial flight over the Copper River Delta and surrounding region over the weekend. Alaska is a big place, which is an understatement as large as the state. Getting views from above always help put things in some degree of perspective while at the same time, the perspective seem slightly incomprehensible!

I dug these few paragraphs out of the drafts folder, having started writing it sometime around the start of the new year. That’s near the time the great task of reprocessing and re-editing my entire stock files began. It is a grinding process with burnout on the near border, but great strides have been made. My new website should be coming to the surface to breath soon.

Looking forward holds as much value as looking backwards and both will contribute their respective positive or negative influence based on ones personality and experience. A retrospective glance that looks back on a year, or even a decade worth of images provokes some transporting  thoughts, and puts a span of time in a visual and chronological context.

Days and weeks, excursions and adventures get layered upon each other in the course of Alaska’s robust and energetic seasons. A slow motion review in the form of pictures unfolds pleasantly when reviewing these captured moments, and their individual voice tells of time, temperature, wind, emotion, sound and the rugged context of both journey and discovery.

After nearly 20 years of locking moments in a single frame, I see and find the gift that photography sends back to me.  The picture opens up that world archived in time, one more time, to think upon and re experience. This to me is the “gift back” that photography offers.

Aerial of the Phillip Smith mountains of the Brooks range, Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, Alaska. Canon 5 D Mark II, 100-400mm f/5.6L IS, 1/2000 sec @ f/5.6, ISO 400

“There are no rules of architecture for a castle in the clouds.”

G. K. Chesterton

My growing affinity for something as intangible and transient as clouds is the result of years of treading the land and looking up. The magic and art of the sky is ever changing, fleeting, ominous, lovely and at times simply spellbinding. I don’t know if this is a hidden source for my fondness for landscape photography, but indeed, a dramatic happening in the clouds is a sure ingredient for a striking landscape photo. The big, open and ever changing skies that unfold across Alaska’s mountainous landscape is one aspect that ties me to this chunk of geography.  I wanted to share some with you here in a gallery.

There is no lack of top five, top ten, top whatever lists…these days. When making any list or selection, the process is influenced by many factors. I’ve picked a few images, 100 to be exact that were notable to me in some way during the past year. In retrospect, my photography seemed minimized in diversity in 2010, but nevertheless was filled with many great experiences. Here is a little gallery for your enjoyment.

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.

Aerial of the confluence of Easter Creek and the Killik River in the Brooks Range, arctic, Alaska. Canon 1Ds Mark III, 24-105mm f/4L IS (28mm), 1/800 sec @ f/6.3, ISO 400.

Aerial of the John River in the Brooks Range, arctic, Alaska. Canon 5D Mark II, 24-105mm f/4L IS (28mm), 1/400 sec @ f/5, ISO 400.