Last week Claudia and I and took a zodiac boat ride from Ushuaia to Isla Navarino, an island that is actually in Chile even though it’s right across the Beagle Channel from Ushuaia and Argentina. So, coming and going, four more stamps in our passports, which are nearly full of Chile and Argentina stamps after three months of border crossings between the two countries. By now, the amount of stamping and filling out of immigration forms has reached a certain level of inanity to us.

But I digress… our reason for heading to Isla Navarino was to trek around the Dientes de Navarino, a small but rugged mountain range on the island. We spent five days out there on this wild and adventurous route, enduring a full range of extreme weather and trekking through some spectacular scenery. See lots more photos from the trek below!

After clearing customs (again) in Puerto Williams on Isla Navarino, we registered with the police (in case we never returned), stopped at a market for some cheese and sausages (which we weren’t allowed to bring into Chile), and then we finally started our walk into the mountains!

We climbed up through the lenga forest and then crossed a high tundra plateau where we had an excellent view of the Dientes (see the first photo above). We were excited! Right from the start we could sense that this trek was much different from the other more famous Patagonian treks. This already felt much more wild and authentic compared to the Disneyland feel of Torres del Paine or Fitz Roy.

After camping the first night at Laguna del Salto, we headed up past Laguno del Paso and over towards Paso de los Dientes, seen on the right. Clouds were streaming up over the pass, portending foul weather on the other side.

From the pass we had a brief but awesome view of the clouds moving in through the rugged valley. This would be the last we’d see of the mountains for a while… soon we were totally socked in with rain and fog!

This trek doesn’t really have a real trail, but the route is marked with cairns and painted symbols. Nevertheless, it can be quite confusing at times, and route finding was often a puzzle – which I kind of like! In the fog we were grateful for the cairns; otherwise it would have been nearly impossible to know where to go.

These green shrubs glowed a fluorescent green color in the grey fog.

Laguna de los Dientes : Prints Available

Cerro Gabriel and Laguna de Los Dientes, Isla Navarino, Chile.

Along the way we got a bit lost on the wrong route for a short while, but finally made it to our next destination – Laguna de los Dientes. Our spirits were low, since we were soaked and chilly in the rain, the peaks were hidden in the fog, and the weather showed no sign of changing. Camp spots are extremely difficult to find in these mountains because the ground is almost everywhere bumpy, rocky, or wet, but after some searching we found a flat spot to put the tent. Later that day I was much happier when I opened the tent door and saw the peaks out!

At some point in the past, in a stroke of short-sighted brilliance, North American beavers were introduced here. They have since wreaked havoc on the native forests, leaving most of the areas around the lakes littered with dead tree carcasses. We saw a couple of these industrious critters during the trek.

Los Dientes : Prints Available

Mist rises off Laguna de los Dientes during a break in the rain on Isla Navarino, Chile.

The Dientes reminded me a bit of the Sawtooth Mountains in Idaho, with the jagged peaks rising above broad lakes. We realized here how much we’ve missed camping near alpine lakes, a feature that seems rare in the Andes, I guess. Somehow having lakes around makes a landscape feel a bit more like paradise. And this place felt like a little mountain paradise indeed, except for the hellish weather!

The rain left that night and the next day was gorgeous! Well, gorgeous for Magellanic standards, anyways… Here’s Laguna Escondida, ringed by a rugged wall of mountains.

Although the sun was nice that day, as we neared the top of Paso Ventarron, we got a taste of the infamous Cape Horn winds. It was shockingly windy up here, sometimes sending us staggering backwards. And this, I think, was pretty tame wind compared to some of the stories I heard and read of people getting knocked over and even dragged around on the ground by ferocious winds. Apparently that’s fairly common around here.

Going down the other side of Paso Ventarron. It was so windy here, my eyebrows were blowing in the wrong direction! I don’t recall this ever happening before… but then again, they seem to be getting bushier as I get older… Anyhow, it was windy.

Laguna Martillo Sunset : Prints Available

Wild sunset light behind Cerro Clem at Laguna Martillo on Isla Navarino, Chile.

That evening we camped at Laguna Martillo, a spectacular setting with the spire of Cerro Clem towering above. When I saw that the sunset colors were lighting up, I let my dinner get cold while I ran off to take some photos!

Did I mention that the weather is crazy here? Here’s our tent Laguna Martillo the day we got there. At right is fresh snow in the morning. Quite a surprise to see that when I opened the tent!

Since we had no layover days on this trek, we had no choice but to pack up the wet tent and start trekking through the snowstorm. This was another adventurous day when we were totally reliant on the cairns and markings to show us the route ahead. We were worried that it would snow enough to cover up all the route markings and cairns, in which case we would be screwed and would have to stay put. Luckily the snow didn’t accumulate enough for that.

Antarctic conditions on Paso Virginia. Again, we were very thankful for the cairns; otherwise this route would be quite a compass challenge on this broad featureless plateau. This pass is notorious for hellacious winds, so our little snowstorm actually wasn’t so bad as it could have been…

Nevertheless, we were both relieved to have made it safely over the last pass of the trek. As if mirroring our emotions, a rainbow appeared down valley where we’d soon be camping for our final night of the trip! Below is Laguna Guanaco.

The last day was a glorious calm sunny day, and an uneventful hike took us out of the mountains, back to Puerto Williams.

We both agreed that this was one of our two favorite treks we’ve done during our three months in the Andes (the other being the Valle de Aguas Calientes near Chillan). It was a perfect grand finale adventure for our trip! Now we’re just chilling out in Ushuaia for our last couple days here before catching our flight back to Buenos Aires then home. It’s been an epic trip, but three months is enough, and I’m super excited to get back home to Ouray!

Fitz Roy Range, El Chaltén, Argentina

We’ve just returned to civilization after 8 days camped out in the mighty Fitz Roy range near El Chaltén in Argentine Patagonia. One of my main goals of this return trip to El Chaltén was to capture a photo that I have been dreaming about since my last trip to Patagonia four years ago. I was prepared to spend a week or more waiting for the perfect opportunity to accomplish this photo, and to repeat the efforts with stubborn determination until I did it. I want to talk a bit more about my experience behind this “dream shot” since it epitomizes everything I love about mountain photography!

Back in 2007, I spent two weeks in the Fitz Roy range with my 4×5 camera, hiking around to all kinds of obscure viewpoints every morning like a madman. One morning, I hiked up to the still-partially-frozen Laguna de los Tres for sunrise, and scored one of my favorite Patagonian photos. I was stoked. After the sunrise it was still early, with very calm weather, so I decided to go for the summit of nearby Cerro Madsen. I had no info whatsoever about any route up Madsen, or if it was even possible without climbing gear, but I had scoped it out from different perspectives the previous days and thought that I had figured out a route that would go. The route turned out to be a very fun and challenging scramble, with numerous little obstacles and puzzles along the way, even including a pretty long knife-edge section with gaping abysses on both sides. I made it to the summit, took a photo, and got back down just in time before the Patagonian winds started howling again. It felt great to climb this mountain using only my own reconnaissance and instincts – for all I knew I was the first person to ever climb it… Of course that’s not true, but it felt that way to me!

I wondered about how amazing it would be to get up on that summit for a sunrise, but at the time it seemed like quite an accomplishment for me to have gotten there at all – getting up there for sunrise would be a bit much. But the seed was planted in my head. In the run up to our trip to Patagonia this year the idea starting growing again. My memories of the climb had faded a bit, and now it didn’t seem to me like it would be so impossible. It would be my holy grail grand finale photo of our three month trip down the Andes. So I decided to give it a serious effort. I had my challenge. The hike itself is not what concerned me since that was the only part squarely in my control. Given enough time, along with the long period of dawn light in the summer here, the hike would be strenuous but straightforward. What worried me was the unlikeliness of the convergence of good light, decent clouds but not so much to cover the peak of Fitz Roy (as is very often the case), and most importantly not having the usual ferocious winds that could fling me off that knife edge scramble. We were stocked up with enough food for a week at the base camp area, and as I mentioned before, I was prepared to stubbornly repeat my efforts every morning until I hopefully scored the perfect conditions.

Fitz Roy Sunrise : Prints Available

Sunrise light on Monte Fitz Roy - December.

Well, very fortunately, I scored my “dream shot” on the very first morning! I timed it just right with the 2:00am start. The scramble was just as tricky and fun and challenging as I remembered it, and I arrived at the summit just in time to take some dawn shots and then wait for the real sunrise light. I was troubled by a thick cloud on the eastern horizon that I was sure was going to block the sunrise light; I was sure I would have to repeat the hike again for better light. But the cloud dispersed right before sunrise and when the tip of Fitz Roy started glowing faintly reddish pink with the very first rays of sunlight, I knew I was in for a good show! As the sun rose fully above the horizon, the light got more and more intense, finally descending onto the glaciers below the rock faces at the peak of pinkish-orange intensity. I was shooting the photos as if in a dream and I started to wonder if maybe it was actually one of those awful photography dreams where you always lose your photos once you wake up. But no, it was real and I was photographing perhaps the most amazing sunrise scene I’ve ever witnessed in my life. If my photos from that morning convey even one quarter of the glory of that scene, I will be a happy photographer.

Cerro Torre Reflection #4 : Prints Available

The piercing spire of Cerro Torre reflects in Lago Torre at sunrise - December. 

After spending three more days camped below Fitz Roy in poorer weather, we headed over to Lago Torre, below the jagged spire of Cerro Torre. Again, the first morning there I had good luck with gorgeous sunrise light and decently calm reflection conditions. In a stark contrast with my “dream shot” of Fitz Roy that I just described, getting to Lago Torre at sunrise involves merely a sleepy 5 or 10 minute stroll from the campsite to the lake.

The contrast between these two photo scenarios illustrates why I believe that the experiences behind the photos matter so much. With landscape photos like these, much of the creative spark lies within that experience behind the photo – the process of discovering unique locations and perspectives and photo ideas, and then the physical challenge of accomplishing the task. There are those who will look at the two photos objectively and may prefer one or the other for purely visual reasons, with no concept or care of the story behind them. But for me – and for those who can understand and appreciate the challenges behind the photos – the experience shines through bright and clear.

Meanwhile, Claudia got stuck in a tree.

Glaciar Grey, Torres del Paine, Chile

Last week we spent 10 days hiking the popular “W” Circuit in Parque Nacional Torres del Paine. These spectacular mountains rise abruptly 3000 vertical meters (almost 10,000 feet) above a series of huge turquoise lakes. Although the finest views of the range are actually seen from further away across the lakes (like this), the W Circuit offers the opportunities to experience the three main valleys and highlights within the range: the Glaciar Grey, the Valle Frances, and Las Torres lake. Although most people hike this route in about 5 days or so, we took 10 days so that we could spend extra time in each valley along the way.

We started the trek by taking a ferry across Lago Grey to Refugio Grey, and hiking to Campamento Los Guardas, a campsite set in a beautiful lenga forest, with a spectacular mirador (lookout point) directly above the snout of Glaciar Grey, a huge glacier that flows out from the Southern Patagonian Ice Field, the second largest extrapolar extent of ice in the world.

We then hiked around the massive Cerro Paine Grande up to Valle Frances, the second destination of the trek. This is one of the most unique mountain cirques in the world – a broad basin ringed by sheer needle peaks. It’s the kind of place that no photo can do justice to; you just have to be there to tilt your head back and spin around to see all those teeth surrounding you. Awesome!

During the trek you must camp in the large designated campgrounds, usually situated in the beautiful but gloomy lenga forests which provide good shelter from the strong winds that whip around most of the time. Most of these campsites are thoroughly used and abused by the thousands of trekkers that pass through, and the forests around the camps are littered with toilet paper and associated organic matter. It’s a shame that the whopping $30 USD park entrance fee that each of the thousands upon thousands of visitors must pay is not quite enough to maintain a couple decent outhouses.

Hiking up Valle Ascencio

Photographing these huge peaks requires a bit of luck with the ever-changing weather and light conditions; unfortunately luck was not on my side for the entire first week of the trek, despite my most relentless efforts. Finally, during our stay in the third and final valley I got some sweet moonlight photos of the Torres spires reflecting in the lake during an unusually calm spell. I’ll post those photos after I’m back home, when I have more time and a real monitor to work with.

Tomorrow we take the bus to El Chaltén, where we’ll spend a week or so in the Fitz Roy range, the other famous Patagonian mountain range. I’ve always liked that place a lot, and am excited to return one more time!

UPDATE: December 31, 2011: Apparently we were lucky to do this trek when we did it… unfortunately this last week a careless camper (surprise, surprise – an Israeli, of course) tried to start a campfire (which is forbidden) and ended up starting a wildfire that has burned tens of thousands of acres on the front side of the range. All the trekkers have been evacuated, and hundreds of firefighters are fighting the blaze, which is not yet under control. Tragic… http://www.digitaljournal.com/article/317068

Hiking through the wet temperate rain forest in the Cochamó valley.

After waiting in the rain in Puerto Varas for a week, we finally got a better weather forecast and headed out for a six day backpacking trip to the impressive Cochamó valley in Chile. We might have jumped the gun by a day or two, since it rained the entire way up; the ten mile hike was totally wet and muddy, with countless bogs and knee deep creeks to cross.

Mist rising off the forest on a rainy day in Cochamó.

Soaking wet upon arrival, we spent the first night in the Refugio Cochamó, where we dried out a bit and even had a wood-fired shower!

Cerro La Junta towers above a cabin in the Cochamó valley.

We spent the next four nights camping in our tent in the campground at La Junta, and doing hikes during the days. Fortunately the weather did get better, and we had a number of sunny days mixed in with the rainy days.

Cerro La Junta : Prints Available

The granite walls of Cerro La Junta (1677m) tower above the temperate rain forest of the Cochamó valley in Chile - November.

The Cochamó valley is known mainly in climbing circles, due to the vast granite walls that rise above the rain forest on both sides of the valley. The locals and resident climbers have blazed a network of trails to access the various walls and peaks – these “trails” are actually often more like roped via ferrate, with seriously challenging scrambling, climbing, and route-finding puzzles up through the steep, thick forest, and over exposed granite slabs. The vista above was a reward of an intense hike that was one of the most challenging (and fun) hikes yet for me in the Andes!

Valle de Aguas Calientes : Prints Available

The hot springs rivers in Valle de Aguas Calientes steam in the cool dusk air.  The water here is scalding hot, though a joining river right around the corner is a perfect temperature for a soothing soak below Vulcan Chillan Viejo.

After our long bus ride south from northern Chile and a quick pitstop in Santiago, we’ve spent the last several days in and around Las Trancas, a sleepy mountain town set in a gorgeous forested valley below two volcanoes. Las Trancas is situated down valley from the famous Termas de Chillán hot springs and ski resort; however, we bypassed the commercial hot springs in favor of a backpacking trek to some remote hot springs on the other side of the mountains.

After hiking through the forest we were surprised to see how much snow is still in the mountains! Apparently they had an epic winter here. We donned our crampons and headed over a high pass.

Here’s the view from near the pass, looking down into Valle de Aguas Calientes. (Photo taken on the way out). Though we knew by then to expect lots of snow, we were still a bit shocked to see the total snowpack coverage in the valley, and started to prepare mentally for a couple uncomfortable nights of camping on snow. The rivers you see down in there are all hot spring rivers, so at least we wouldn’t freeze to death!

A hot spring river cuts through the snowpack, showing how big of a winter it has been.

Very fortunately, after a bit of exploring we found a meadow where a series of hot spring creeks had melted the snowpack off! This lifted our spirits big time, as it meant that we wouldn’t have to camp on the snow after all. It was pretty funny to be camping on dry green grass, totally surrounded by snow! You can see our little gray tent in the middle of the photo.

It doesn’t get much better than this!!! The river behind Claudia was actually scalding hot, but this joining river was the perfect temperature for a soak… along with a tasty Chilean wine of course.

The obligatory nighttime tent shot.

After two days of soaking in the hot springs and generally chilling out, we headed back over the mountains to Las Trancas, for more adventures!

Vicuña at Salar de Aguas Calientes, northern Chile.

After renting a 4×4 truck in Antofagasta, we’ve spent the last week camping and touring in the Atacama desert, based around the oasis town of San Pedro de Atacama. Read more about our adventures this week, and see LOTS more photos below!

Our first stop was the famous Valle de la Luna (Valley of the Moon), an interesting geological area full of strange salt-rock formations. The highlight of our afternoon visit here was a fantastic little hike through a strange slot-canyon-cave-tunnel. The rock here is really interesting – it looks like mud, but it’s really super hard salt-infused rock.

We forgot to bring our headlamps on this hike, but pressed ahead in the darkness of the cave anyways using Claudia’s camera light to guide the way. Luckily the cave/tunnel wasn’t too terribly long and we popped out the other end pretty soon.

The next day we drove up and up and up above the desert to the Salar de Aguas Calientes, a high lake and salt flat at about 13,000 ft. elevation with a series of hot springs along the edge (not great for bathing, unfortunately, due to lots of green muck and bitterly cold winds).

The water in the salar is an amazing turquoise color, with surreal barren mountains rising above – a photographer’s paradise! I took many many photos around here; I’ll post more once I’m home in January. (In fact, I’m not posting most of my best shots yet because it’s too difficult and time consuming to process them on my little laptop screen).

At this high elevation, it was super windy and terribly cold – in fact it even snowed a bit and the entire salty lake froze over during the night. Fortunately we found a pretty good shelter from the wind beneath a leeward-facing cliff. There’s me in our caveman kitchen, hiding from the wind.

Next, we headed to Laguna Lejia, another high remote lake accessed via a series of rough, high passes. Here’s our HiLux truck amongst some penitentes at around the 15,000-foot mark.

Salt Curve : Prints Available

Volcán Simba o Aguas Calientes (5831m / 19131 ft.) and Cerro Acamarachi o Pili (6045m / 19833 ft.) as seen at sunset from Laguna Lejia, Chile.

One of the most interesting things about the Andes around the Atacama is the sheer number of volcanoes – they’re lined up one after another as far as the eye can see. Laguna Lejia is situated in a particularly nice spot to view a number of these volcanoes, and I was stoked to catch a nice sunset and sunrise during our brief stay there.

This lake is at a lofty height of 4500m (almost 14,800 ft.) elevation, and was even colder and windier than the night before! Even worse, there was no shelter whatsoever, so we decided that our only choice was to sleep in the truck. Sleeping in a car is usually a sign of desperation, but this actually turned out quite nice – the truck was warmer than the tent and the fully reclined seats were surprisingly comfortable!

Though we had wanted to hike up Vulcan Lascar, it was simply too windy and cold to even think about attempting that!

One night at Laguna Lejia was enough suffering for us, so we headed back down to the town of San Pedro de Atacama for a nice dinner and a real bed for a change.

The adobe town of San Pedro de Atacama is super touristy, but easily seduced us with its lazy relaxed atmosphere and tasty food options. We ended up staying for a couple nights so that we could have more time to chill out and soak in the atmosphere of this cozy desert town.

The next day, we heard a report that the wind was dying down. That was great news, since we were thinking that it was just always totally windy around here. So in the afternoon we spontaneously decided to go for a hike up Cerro Toco, which is regarded as a “novice” hike around here, even though it rises to 18,504 ft.! Well, it was actually a pretty easy hike, especially since we were able to drive up to 16,400 ft.!

Cerro Toco Summit Sunset : Prints Available

Sunset from the 18,504 ft. summit of Cerro Toco, high above the Atacama desert in northern Chile.

Of course, being the nutjob photographer that I am, I had to stay up on the summit for sunset! Well, although I was getting a bit chilly by then, it was worth it. I made it back down to the truck by dusk, and we were back in town by dinnertime!

A short drive from San Pedro are the Termas de Puritama, a hot spring river set in a deep canyon in the middle of the driest desert in the world. There’s a series of eight or so pools with clear hot water flowing through them all. A true oasis paradise! This was one of the most amazing and memorable hot springs I’ve ever visited, and we stayed there for hours until they finally kicked us out at closing time. Definite a highlight of the trip so far!

That evening we camped again in our favorite spot just outside of town – the Valle de la Muerte. A canyon winds its way through surreal eroded formations until you get to a martian landscape of sand dunes amongst more eerie salt-rock formations.

Why not hang out in San Pedro some more? Here I am playing our favorite game – Rummikub.

Flamingos at Lugana Chaxa, Los Flamencos National Reserve, Chile

Our next stop: Laguna Chaxa, in Los Flamencos National Reserve, in the center of the Salar de Atacama, the huge salt flat south of town. Three species of flamingos live here year-round.

A self portrait of Claudia and I at Laguna Chaxa. We’re tall people.

Oh my gosh, where did that beard come from?! Well, Claudia likes it, that’s all that matters.

We stayed at Laguna Chaxa until sunset, scoring some unexpectedly fantastic sunset and dusk photos there. Another night camping at Valle de la Muerte, and now we’re hanging out again in San Pedro de Atacama, where I’m typing this from. Soon we’ll get back in the truck and head north to the town of Pica, which has dunes, natural pools, and more wine! Stay tuned!

Aconcagua Dawn : Prints Available

Aconcagua and the Rio Horcones valley at dawn. At a height of 6962m (22,841 ft.) Aconcagua is the highest mountain in the western hemisphere. Read more about the hike behind this photo here.

One of the reasons for heading through Mendoza on this trip was to photograph Aconcagua, the highest mountain in the western hemisphere. Though I have little desire to actually climb the peak, I was hoping to do some hikes in the valleys around the peak. Unfortunately, however, we discovered that the park is for all intents and purposes “closed” until mid-November… something about too much snow and a general getting tired of winter rescues.

So, with that option off the table, I researched the map, did some scouting on Google Earth, and decided that a good alternative plan would be to shoot a sunrise from Cerro Banderitas Sur, a 4184m peak across the valley to the south of Aconcagua park. It was quite an adventure to get up there… read more about it and see more photos below!

Rickety bridge over the Rio del las Cuevas

Finding specific information about the conditions in the mountains around here was proving to be nearly impossible in Mendoza, as anybody who might know wanted to put us on one of their expensive tours instead of share information. So with almost no idea what to expect up there, we hopped on a bus to Penitentes, a little ski area along the pass that goes over the Andes into Chile. A 2km walk along the road brought us to this rickety bridge which led into the Penitentes valley.

I was imagining that we’d be full-on snow camping, but instead we were greeted by this dry and bleak Martian landscape in the north facing valley. My concerns about the snow were replaced by worries about the wind and whether our summer tent would hold up!

We could see on the map that there was a refugio (a hut) up in the valley, and were relieved to find that it was unoccupied and not locked. Though basically just a cement box with a makeshift bench inside, the protection from the wind was a total luxury! The tent would have been much colder, even if it could survive the relentless wind.

Cerro Penitentes, Argentina

Most people who come here hike Cerro Penitentes, the 4356m mountain seen in the background. Our goal, however, was on the other side of the valley, and we spent our second day there doing a scouting hike to check out the route.

It’s a good thing we scouted the route because there was no way I’d have been able to find my way in the dark otherwise. We followed a ridge up to about 13,000 feet before getting to a dead end and turning back. I was able to scope out a different route up a snow-filled cirque that I would take to the top in the morning.

Sunrise light on Aconcagua, Argentina.

The next morning I woke up at 2:00am and started retracing our route in the dark. The temperature was brutally cold and I had to keep moving to stay warm, but go slow enough that I wouldn’t arrive too early and have to wait up top; it was way too cold to sit around – I would have frozen. Eventually I arrived at the 13,600 ft. saddle just as the dawn glow started illuminating the mountains. Though my fingers and toes were nearly numb, the sudden impressive sight of Aconcagua lifted my spirits greatly and I rushed to find a spot to set up the camera. As the sunrise light touched the summit of Aconcagua, I shot as many photos as my freezing fingers would allow, shivering but stoked to finally get my shot of the big peak!

Animas Sunset : Prints Available

A brilliant sunset above Animas Mountain deep in the Weminuche Wilderness, August. 

Last week we did a 7-day loop trek in and around the Needle Mountains, the rugged heart of the Weminuche Wilderness in Colorado’s San Juan Mountains. As usual, we had some crazy weather during our trip, including lots of lightning, thunder, and several stunning sunrises and sunsets. See lots more photos below!

Jagged Dusk : Prints Available

Jagged Mountain (13,824 ft.) reflects in a small pond at dusk.

Dawn in the Needles : Prints Available

Dawn reflection at a remote lake high in the Needle Mountains.  Mt. Eolus (14,039 ft.) is at left, Monitor Peak (13,695 ft.), Peak Thirteen (13,706 ft.), and Animas Mountain (13,786 ft.) are at right.

Eolus Reflection #2 : Prints Available

North side of Mt. Eolus (14,039) reflection at sunrise.

Hiking over a high pass in the Needle Mountains - August. 

Purple Dawn : Prints Available

Magenta dawn light high in the Weminuche Wilderness. 

Sunlight Sunrise Reflection : Prints Available

An incredible sunrise light show at a high lake in the Weminuche Wilderness.  These surreal clouds formed out of a clear sky in a matter of minutes right during the brilliant sunrise light.  The mountains here are Windom Peak (14,083 ft., left) and Sunlight Peak (14,059 ft., right).

Sunlight Mountain Goat : Prints Available

A mountain goat and her kid check the scene at Sunlight Lake - August.

Mountain Goat on Rock : Prints Available

A mountain goat walks towards the camera, high in the Weminuche Wilderness. 

Jagged Sunrise Reflection : Prints Available

Jagged Mountain reflects in a small pond at sunrise in the Weminuche Wilderness - August. 

Claudia hikes up a 13,600 ft. pass high in the Weminuche Wilderness. 

Chicago Basin Sunset : Prints Available

A brief sunset seen from Chicago Basin.

This is the fourth time I’ve done a week-long trek in these mountains; here are some links to photo galleries previous similar treks I’ve done in the Weminuche Wilderness in August 2010, August 2008, and September 2007.

For those of you interested in knowing more details about the routes I’ve done in the Weminuche, in the spirit of exploration all I can say is get yourself some topo maps and have at it. These are wild mountains, fit for experienced backpackers who are comfortable navigating off trail by map and instincts in remote, complex, and rugged terrain. Those of you who fall into that category may agree that half the fun of these kinds of trips is the sense of exploration and discovery which is becoming ever rarer these days. If you prefer fully detailed route descriptions and guidebooks, it would be more enjoyable to stick to the trails – and believe me the Weminuche Wilderness has plenty of amazing trail hikes to last many summers!

Alice Lake Morning : Prints Available

Dawn reflection at Alice Lake.

For many years I’ve been longing to visit the Sawtooth Range in Idaho, and last week I finally got the chance! We went on a 7-day backpacking trek through the range, starting from Pettit Lake and ending at Redfish Lake, taking a few detours along the way.

Hiking above the brilliant blue Twin Lakes.

The Sawtooths did not disappoint, with their seemingly endless supply of emerald lakes surrounded by jagged granite spires.

See more photos from the trek below!

Toxaway Valley : Prints Available

Looking east down the Toxaway valley from a high ridgeline at sunset. 

Sunset in the Sawtooths, Idaho

Nice place for a sunset and some M&Ms.

Cramer Lake Reflection : Prints Available

Sevy Peak reflects in Upper Cramer Lake at sunset on a calm blue sky August evening.

The first few days we had beautiful partly cloudy weather, but the next few days were totally sunny – great for trekking but not so great for photography. Nevertheless we had a blast backpacking through this new mountain range, jumping in the lakes, and camping in some of the most spectacular campsites ever.

Twilight Stream : Prints Available

Waterfall at Cramer Lake.  During our trek here in early August, about 15 minutes or so after sunset every night there was about 5 minutes of the most brilliant magenta rays that illuminated the western sky. 

Not seen in these photos are the swarms of mosquitos everywhere! Those pesky bastards would not leave us alone! Thank heavens for deet.

Hiking past the turquoise waters of upper Baron Lake.

Evening at Baron Lake : Prints Available

Late afternoon light filters through the forest near Baron Lake.  Monte Verita towers beyond. 

Monte Verita Alpenglow Reflection : Prints Available

Monte Verita reflects in the calm waters of Baron Lake at dawn. 

Baron Lake Blue Reflection : Prints Available

Sunrise light shines on the peaks at Baron Lake.  I thought it was an interesting phenomenon how the mountains behind me created a silhouette that almost perfectly matched the skyline of these peaks! 

Baron Creek Peak : Prints Available

Sunset light on an unnamed rugged peak above Baron Creek. 

Bushwhack Lake : Prints Available

Rugged spires tower above this seldom seen emerald lake below Warbonnet Peak. 

We spent a day hiking to an unnamed lake (above) that I was totally curious to see, since it is situated in a remote cirque below a wild array of jagged spires. We planned on staying the night here, but I totally underestimated the difficulty of the bushwhack required to get here, and we realized that the only way to keep on our trek schedule was to abandon our plan and immediately leave and return to the camp from the night before. Thus, we spent most of a day doing a fairly grueling bushwhack with full packs for no reason, when we could have had a chill rest day instead. D’oh! Well, Claudia’s a trooper and she had a better attitude about it than I did!

Elephant's Perch Sunset : Prints Available

Sunset at Elephant's Perch - August. 

Our last night was spent at one of the most incredible spots I’ve ever set up a tent at, on cliff about 20 feet above a lake, with a direct view of the huge Elephant’s Perch spire towering above!

Our tent glows at our incredible campsite under the moonlit Elephant's Perch. 

The last day we hiked down to Redfish Lake and caught a boat ride across the lake back to the truck, ending another good long trek this summer! I hope to return to the Sawtooths again someday!

Snowmass Lake Alpenglow Reflection : Prints Available

Brilliant alpenglow on Snowmass Peak and Snowmass Mountain (14,092 ft.), reflected in Snowmass Lake - July. 

Last week we spent 6 days backpacking around the famous Maroon Bells in the Elk Mountains of Colorado. The photos pretty much tell the story so I won’t say too much else except that it was another great trek in Colorado!

See many more photos below!

Crater Lake Reflection : Prints Available

The Maroon Bells reflect in Crater Lake at dawn. 

Purity Basin : Prints Available

Endless green in Purity Basin, as seen from West Maroon Pass - July. 

Purity Basin Sunflowers : Prints Available

Sunflowers in Purity Basin - July. 

Hikers descend into Fravert Basin from Frigid Air Pass, with the Maroon Bells dominating the scene - July. 

Fravert Blues : Prints Available

The Maroon Bells reflect in a partly snowed-in tarn high in Fravert Basin, with gloomy, stormy evening weather. 

Rainy Columbine : Prints Available

Columbine with a rain storm moving in behind.

Geneva Lake Sunset : Prints Available

A sunset spotlight on Snowmass Mountain, reflected in Geneva Lake. 

Lead King Storm : Prints Available

Stormy weather above Lead King Basin. 

Misty Bells : Prints Available

Storm clouds lift off the Maroon Bells, above Fravert Basin - July. 

Trail Rider Sunflowers : Prints Available

Sunflowers at Trail Rider Pass. 

Hiking towards Snowmass Lake, from Trail Rider Pass. 

Snowmass Lake Vista : Prints Available

An overview of the windex-colored Snowmass Lake - July.

Snowmass Lake Trees : Prints Available

Pine trees and Snowmass Lake. 

Snowmass Lake Alpenglow Reflection : Prints Available

Brilliant alpenglow on Snowmass Peak and Snowmass Mountain (14,092 ft.), reflected in Snowmass Lake - July. 

Snowmass Lake Reflection Panorama : Prints Available

Early morning shadows play on Snowmass Peak, reflected in Snowmass Lake. 

Claudia scrambles up the southern ridge of Snowmass Mountain, on the way to the 14,092 ft. summit. 

Anonymous climbers arrive at the 14,092 ft. summit of Snowmass Mountain after climbing up the west ridge.

Hiking up Buckskin Pass, with Snowmass Mountain behind. 

Buckskin Paintbrush : Prints Available

Blood red Indian Paintbrush wildflowers on Buckskin Pass, with North Maroon Peak (14,014 ft.) behind.

Sage Ladybug : Prints Available

A ladybug sits atop a sage brush at sunrise.