EasternSierra — Death Valley

Mono Lake & Eastern Sierra - October 2021

The Eastern Sierra has long interested me for its canyons, creeks, and looming mountains, but I have never made it farther East than Tioga Pass for photography. That changed this Fall when I decided to visit the area around Mono Lake. I planned to look for Fall colors in the canyons at higher elevations and balance my time getting to know the lake, with its high desert terrain and captivating geology.

I confess to having some reservations about Mono Lake, given how widely it seems to be photographed, but I quickly set that aside as the first day’s last light cast magical hues on the water. After the sun dropped behind the mountains to the west, the lake surface took on some beautiful pastel tones that appeared strangely detached from the sky above. It was as if something in the water reflected back the last bit of sunlight in an eerie, altered way. Whether it was caused by the trillions of tiny brine shrimp in the water, the unusual salinity of the lake, or some other element, the gorgeous colors made a compelling backdrop for Mono Lake’s salt-crusted shoreline and distinctive tufa formations.

Looking back over my images for the last year or so, there’s an unmistakeable, if unintentional, shift away from large landscapes at sunset and sunrise. I’ve been focusing on more intimate scenes, often on foggy or overcast days, and I’ve spent a lot of time in the woods near my home looking for order in the chaos of trees and tangled brush. My frequent trips to the coast just over the hills are rarely at sunset anymore, as I pick through the rocks, crannies, and coves in the early mornings before the marine layer burns off. Freed of the time constraints of Golden Hour, I’m more observant and aware of smaller details and nuances of light, and it feels like a more creative challenge. The point to this digression is that for me, close familiarity with a place allows for much deeper creative exploration. By contrast, a new location, particularly one with dramatic features, presents a rush on the senses, and a gravitational pull toward the more obvious scenes. Adding in the irresistible hues of sunset and sunrise explains why certain sites are so popular. It was with this confluence of circumstances that I began my exploration of Mono Lake.

The dramatic tufa formations that rise from the lake are wondrous and make obvious subjects for compositions. Over three days I explored the area, from well before dawn to after sunset. Working different sections of the lake in the mornings and evenings, I came away with some images I really liked, helped greatly by the magical light. Creatively, however, I felt a bit stifled, as the obvious compositions proved irresistible, and I was less able to focus on more subtle images. I decided not to worry about it, and after working the more dramatic formations, I made sure to spend time looking for smaller scenes that I thought gave a more intimate and creative representation of the lake. Unfortunately, while I was able to explore some of these smaller scenes in detail, for a variety of reasons (notably, a couple of blown focus stacks and the fast-disappearing low-angle light) most of them didn’t turn out in the end.

Another odd dynamic that developed at Mono Lake was crossing paths with crowds of photographers. I rarely see other photographers when I shoot, in part because most of the locations I frequent are not that popular (I’m sure there’s a wisecrack here about how that shows in my pictures). On two occasions at Mono Lake, I found myself in the company of a lot of other people toting cameras and tripods. I cheerfully went about my work, but I felt a gnawing sense of self-consciousness and inhibition that were very much at odds with trying to approach the landscape creatively and with all senses engaged. I’ll never know what shots I didn’t see, and I was pleased with some of the images I made during those crowded shoots, but the experience left me feeling uneasy. Perhaps it’s fallout from the isolation of the pandemic; likely, it’s just the marked contrast with my usual solitary photo expeditions.

I’m not sure I’ll go back to Mono Lake for photography, but I will certainly return to the Sierra east of Tioga Pass to explore some of the other canyons, lakes, and streams in the Fall. I was a little early for good leaf color this year, but I now have a familiarity with the region that should provide a good starting point for future exploration.