Back in early September my brother and I spent a week hiking in south-east Iceland. Our favorite hike was the loop from the visitors’ center at Skaftafell to Kristínartindar, in Vatnajökull National Park. We didn’t quite make it to Kristínartindar – stopping on the saddle just below the peak – but nonetheless the variety of scenery and views of glaciers from this trail are out of this world! For sure it’s one of the best day hikes in Iceland, or indeed anywhere.
Realized that I hadn’t posted some of my favorite images from a work trip to Taiwan a couple of years back…
I’m not yet over the thrill of seeing lions in the wild. A leopard or a cheetah may be harder to see, and equally beautiful, but nothing stops traffic in one of Africa’s parks as surely as a lion. Visiting Kruger national park in South Africa, and Etosha national park in Namibia, we saw lions on about half a dozen separate occasions. Rather than just post the best images I obtained, what follows is a chronological list of our sightings in an attempt to give an idea of the sorts of different pictures that are possible. In that spirit, there’s deliberately no great consistency in the processing I’ve applied!
Lions are nocturnal, and if one’s sole goal is to see a lion a game drive at night is a good option. You’re not allowed to blunder around after dark yourself in either Kruger or Etosha, but some of the Kruger camps offer guided night drives in open sided vehicles. These leave shortly after dark, and give you typically a couple of hours during which both guide and visitors scan the roadside with spotlights for wildlife.
Leaving Skukuza rest camp in Kruger on our first day in the park, a pair of lions stood on the verge no more than a mile or so outside the gates.
In addition to spotting the game, the guides on one of these excursions give a commentary on what you’ve seen (normally after the vehicle has stopped, photographs have been taken, and the animal has moved off into the bush). I’ve done guided drives before in Denali and in Yellowstone during winter, and it’s a similar experience. In Kruger, one of our guides suggested that lions hang out near the paved roads because prey, fleeing in panic, will often slip trying to cross the tarmac. Whether that’s true or not I don’t know, but it’s certainly the case that our lions showed very little inclination to head into the bush. Despite the presence of a large vehicle, filled with tourists doing a terrible job of keeping quiet, they walked along as the vehicle kept pace without paying us very much attention.
Later that night, we found a second small group resting at a waterhole.
This kind of sighting is a tough gig photographically. For some reason I’d supposed that the spotlights on a safari vehicle would be extremely bright, but they’re not. The above images are at ISO 6,400 and 12,800, at shutter speeds as low as a tenth of a second. High ISO and image stabilization are essential, and even then you’ll likely be looking at black and white conversion and / or a slightly arty look.
During the day lions will often be resting up. In Kruger, even during the dry season, there’s quite a bit of undergrowth, and a resting lion is hard to spot even at quite close range. A lion jam of cars on the road is more conspicuous, and we caught fleeting views of lions on a couple of occasions that way. Mostly you end up not with artistic glimpses of a lion, but simply obscured and unsatisfactory images. We waited for the lions to get up, move out of the undergrowth, or in fact to do anything, but a fed and watered lion is not in a hurry during the day.
Moving on to Etosha national park in Namibia the quest changed completely. Etosha in the dry season (we visited in mid-September) is very dry, and predators and prey alike are guaranteed to be found in the vicinity of the park’s waterholes. Driving up to Nebrownii on our first day in the park a pair of lions sat on one side of the water, while springboks, giraffes and onyx milled around uncertainly on the other side. Some of the park’s lions are fitted with tracking collars (typically males, and one of the females in a group), but apart from that the environment is much more open and easier photographically than in Kruger.
The scene at Nebrownii changed as the morning wore on, slowly. A jackal came to drink, and eventually departed. A giraffe, either paralyzed by fear or desperately thirsty, approached the water at an agonizingly slow pace before eventually deciding not to risk drinking. A third lion came to the water on the other side, prompting the springboks to retreat to some invisible line demarcating safety.
This is probably my favorite image from the morning.
Around noon, a trio of elephants appeared on the horizon and made their way to the water. The lions gave them plenty of space, but there were plenty of opportunities for pictures that – if not actually showing interactions between elephants, lions and giraffes – at least had them in the same frame.
After a break for lunch, we returned to the waterhole. Variants of the same scene were still playing out. This lion looked a bit thin.
Photographically, our best images came on our last day in Etosha. Entering the park from the south as the sun rose, lionesses were grooming each other next to the water while a male lion – unfortunately tagged – sat nearby near a fresh kill. The image below was shot at long range… 400mm on a Canon 7D cropped sensor body.
After maybe ten minutes, the lionesses got up and followed a trail that crossed the road just in front of our vehicle.
I kept shooting, but took care to also just enjoy the experience of seeing these magnificent cats at a range of no more than ten yards.
Video shot on a hike from Skógafoss to the Fimmvörðuháls Pass in the south of Iceland. Done as an out and back trip from Skógar this makes for an 18-20 mile day, with about 3,500 feet of net elevation gain, that takes you past spectacular waterfalls up into a barren landscape between the Eyjafjallajökull and Mýrdalsjökull glaciers. The volcanic eruption in 2010 that closed much of northern Europe’s airspace started up here, and the aftermath is still very evident.
I’m back from two weeks in southern Africa, the photographic portion of which included stops in Kruger National Park, Etosha National Park, and the Namib desert. The trip was actually a honeymoon, so we planned it more to get a taste for a new (to us) part of the world than to get photos… but still we made plenty of pre-dawn starts and came back with a hefty haul of images!
I’ll likely post more detailed reflections on the trip once the dust has settled and my evaluation of the images can be separated from the emotions of seeing leopards, cheetahs and lions in the wild for the first time. For now here’s a taster of some of the sights.
All of these photos were taken with a Canon 5D Mk3 and the 100-400mm f/4.5-5.6 II lens, both of which performed superbly throughout the trip.
Staying this week in a hotel mid-way between Skaftafell and Jökulsárlón it’s very easy to visit the beach where small chunks of ice from the lagoon wash up on the black sand. Every day the scene is different, depending on the vagaries of the weather, tide and ocean, and my brother and I have been experimenting with different images. Last night I tried moderately long exposures with an ultra-wide 18mm lens. You need to setup your tripod close to where the waves run-up on the beach to make an interesting image of the water swirling past the ice. It requires… bravery…
In an attempt to keep my feet dry I let go of the camera, and just a couple of inches of water very nearly toppled the tripod! I’m fond of the adage that there’s no value in buying gear that you can’t afford to use and potentially lose, but after this near miss I moved back a pace or two. No harm done… just a few drops of water on the lens that cleaned up fine.
Quite happy with the final “pre-inundation” image, which is a bit different from my favorite from last year shot on black and white film.
A spur of the moment weekend in Westport, on the west coast of Ireland. The weather was typically “Irish”, i.e. pretty terrible, but this is still a wonderful part of the country to explore. The road along the coast here is dubbed the “Wild Atlantic Way”, and for once the tourist designation is spot on.
The wildest hiking in North America is surely to be found in Alaska and northern Canada. There are plenty of challenging hikes in the mountains and canyons of the lower 48 states too, of course, but in most cases the difficulties owe a lot to either the length of the trail or the need for technical climbing or canyoneering skills. In the icy north, by contrast, the sheer remoteness is such that only a handful of hikers tackle even the easiest non-technical hikes in some of the region’s National Parks.
My own experience in Alaska and northern Canada is limited to day hikes and short backpacks in Alaska and the Yukon. In the course of planning those trips, however, I’ve read of plenty of other hikes that piqued my interest. Here are five that – although I may never get around to them – look like incredible adventures that could be tackled by mere mortals with appropriate planning…
Kluane’s Donjek Route
Kluane National Park, in Canada’s Yukon, is a park I’ve actually been to. With my brother we hiked the park’s most popular trail, the Slims West route to Observation mountain. The scenery was outstanding, the level of adventure (mostly arising from the unbridged crossings of glacial creeks) significant but manageable, and it remains the best hike I’ve done to date. The video below (refresh the page if the embed isn’t visible) gives a taste of the terrain.
The Slims West trail, however, is not even close to being the most adventurous thing to do in Kluane. There’s exceptional rafting on the Alsek river, while staying on foot the Donjek route to view the Donjek glacier may well be one of the best backpacking trips in North America. The route is only about 60 miles, but it’s recommended to plan for 8-10 days in the wilderness. There are no major technical difficulties, the main challenge is the remoteness and the need for careful route finding in the trail-less portions of the hike.
The Goat Trail, Wrangell-St Elias National Park
The day hikes out of McCarthy in Alaska’s Wrangell-St Elias national park have been on my to-do list for many years. Going beyond those, there’s what looks to be an excellent short backpack that crosses the Root glacier and returns to town via the Kennicott glacier. That looks doable, but I’d want to have more experience on the ice than I have right now to feel comfortable planning it. Easier in some respects (though not in others!) is the The Goat Trail, probably the best-known longer hike in the park. It’s a fly-in / fly-out route between two bush airstrips that looks to access spectacular scenery, and which for the most part is relatively easy. There are, however, some potentially tough creek crossings, along with the route’s signature difficulty of a scree slope traverse that requires finding the right trail to accomplish safely. I’m confident we could do this hike, though it would be a step up in challenge compared to anything we’ve done up to now.
McGonagall Pass hike, Denali National Park
The closest you can get to Denali along the park road is near the Eielson visitor center. If the weather is favorable – often it’s not – a short hike to the top of the ridge above the visitor center affords an amazing vista of North America’s premier mountain.
It’s hard to see that view and not want to get closer! It doesn’t even seem that hard. From the visitors’ center, it looks like you could simply hike down to the valley bottom and climb up the other side to get a better view. There’s no trail, however, and experience elsewhere in Alaska and the Yukon makes me think that such a plan is likely foolhardy… it’s almost certainly much harder than it looks! Instead, the accepted route to better Denali views is the hike to McGonagall Pass, which starts from the end of the park road near Wonder Lake. The McGonagall pass hike is featured in one of the those arbitrary-but-amusing lists of best hikes in the world, and I might well have tried it already but for one obstacle – it requires fording the McKinley river. The McKinley is no mere creek but rather a major glacial river, and one can find entertaining but sobering web accounts of the difficulties it presents. At the very least this is a trip that would have to be planned around the times of year when the crossing is most feasible.
Llewellyn Glacier overlook, Atlin
The Llewellyn glacier is the source of the Yukon river, and to really stand tall on Facebook it’s possible to traverse the Juneau icefield from the Alaskan capital all the way to Atlin. That, however, counts as an expedition rather than a hike. Visiting the toe of the glacier is altogether easier – it’s a couple of hours boat ride on Atlin lake plus less than a mile on a trail to the vicinity of the glacier’s terminus. Apparently water taxis can be hired in Atlin to facilitate this trip, though more detailed information is somewhat sparse. What I’d like to do, however, is not merely to see the glacier but rather to hike to the prominent overlook on the ridge above the trail. I’ve seen photos from this spot, which is amazing, but have never been able to find out whether the climb is easy or hard. If it’s doable, combining a couple of nights camping in the area with a day hike to the overlook looks like a great trip.
Akshayuk Pass, Auyuittuq National Park
Heading even further north, there’s Baffin Island. Polar bears mean there’s not a lot of hiking you can even consider doing independently on Baffin Island, with the possible exception of the Akshayuk Pass hike (at least the out-and-back inland section). As these things go this trip is fairly easy to organize – requiring only planes to Iqualuit and Pangnirtung followed by a boat ride along the fjord to the start of the hike. Numerous trip reports are available, and the main difficulties appear to be the changeable weather and (as usual) glacial creeks that need fording. The Baffin Island scenery is stunning.
An admittedly cliched Alaskan scene, from our trip to Wrangell in 2013.
We hold an annual departmental graduation ceremony for our majors and Ph.D. students in Fiske planetarium. It’s a great venue, but a challenge for photography because even when the house lights are on, they’re not very bright. At all! Shooting with the 70-200mm f/4 wide open I was pushed to ISO 12,800 on the 5D3. Pretty crazy if you still have any memory of film days, but plenty usable with only a moderate amount of noise reduction in Lightroom (luminance = 30). Congrats to the graduating students!