Cascade in Glacier National Park

After having visited Glacier National Park several times, I was finally able to bring my son with me in the summer of 2006. He was 14 at the time, and I took the greatest of pleasure in showing him all the scenic places I had discovered during my previous trips.

On July 7, we took Going-to-the-Sun Road westward to Logan Pass, and I decided to stop at the Lunch Creek cascade to take photos. As I did so, my son bounded over the rocks and was quickly out of sight.

He reappeared in a moment, pointing excitedly toward the massive stone shoulder of Piegan Mountain on the east side of the creek. “Let’s climb that mountain!” he begged.

We followed Lunch Creek toward Pollock Mountain, climbing stair-like rocks as the creek splashed down past us. Where the creek tumbles over a short cliff, we scrambled up a series of ledges that led away from the creek and toward the south face of Piegan Mountain.

Lunch Creek cascade, with Pollock Mountain as a backdrop

(To see this image in a larger view, click here.)

I was glad to have come up this far. From our vantage point, we could see the peaks of the Livingston Range to the west, and had a much grander view of the valley which sprawls in an emerald carpet from the foot of Reynolds Mountain eastward to St. Mary Lake. No way could we have seen it like this from Going-to-the-Sun Road two thousand feet below us.

This is the best way to see Montana, I realized—getting off the beaten path.

We turned back toward the cirque on the south face of Pollock Mountain. The downhill trek went faster than the upward climb. Before long, we found Lunch Creek and scrambled down alongside the falls till we were back at our SUV. We wasted no time in digging our lunch out of the cooler. Though we were both pretty hungry by then, I resisted the urge to inhale my sandwich, and took small bites while looking at the scenery and resting my tired legs.

“I just realized why they call this Lunch Creek,” I exclaimed as we ate. Corny, but it seemed funny at the time.

Summer Blossoms in Florida

I find it curious that, by June, the heat index in Florida has been in the 90s for a couple of months. Yet, it’s not until June that the crepe myrtles begin to blossom.

Having just purchased a new Nikon camera body and a macro lens, I braved the aforementioned heat index to capture some images of bees visiting the crepe myrtle blossoms in my yard. To view a full-size version of this image, click here.

I've taken many closeup shots of bees, probably because I haven’t been squeamish about being near them for years. About the time I bought my first Nikon body—an FE2—I spent a short time working for a beekeeper. After such an experience, one either loves or hates being close to bees.

Bee visiting crepe myrtle blossoms

However, I’ve had more experience shooting them in the northern states. For reasons known only to God, the little buggers move twice as fast in the South...or maybe I’m just getting older? Luckily for me, my new camera can capture many images in rapid succession, and I can delete the ones that miss the target.

Off the subject, my little bro Mike just returned from out West with some extraordinary images. Head on over to his website and take a look.

An Evening In The Killdeer Mountains of North Dakota

When I lived in western North Dakota, I became acquainted with Tim and Sally Dvirnak of Killdeer Mountain Outfitters, who gave me permission to take pictures on their property in Dunn County.

At the end of May, I spent a full day in the Killdeer Mountains. The area is quite scenic compared to other places in North Dakota, so I had plenty of great photo ops. But, as sometimes happens, I captured my best image at the end of the day, when I discovered a chain of beaver ponds.

A perfect evening in the Killdeer Mountains of North Dakota

To view this image in its full size, click here.

When I arrived at the largest pond, the sun was beginning to sink behind the aspens and bur oaks, and cast golden highlights on the pond. The surface of the water was smooth except for the ripples a lone beaver made as it swam across.

If you're interested in exploring the Killdeer Mountains yourself, contact Tim and Sally at Killdeer Mountain Outfitters.

— Gerald Blank

Autumn in the Sneffels Range of Colorado

I decided to take my first trip to the mountains of Colorado in October 2008, hoping to find some nice fall scenery. After a few days in the northern half of the state, I realized the “peak color” time had already come and gone, and if there was any color to be found, it would probably be in the south.

So I traveled south on US Hwy. 550 to Ridgway and Ouray in the San Juan Mountains, where the autumn colors were at their peak. On the 7th, I decided to explore the Uncompahgre-Gunnison National Forest lands on the south side of the Sneffels Range.

The sky was a beautiful clear blue that morning, and the air had the crispness of autumn. I traveled west on CO Hwy. 62 from Ridgway, then left the highway and explored County Roads 7 and 9, which provide access to the National Forest lands. It seemed that every bend in the winding dirt roads revealed another breathtaking panorama of vivid fall color.

Autumn colors near Mears Peak and Ruffner Mountain

To view this image in a larger size, click here.

The San Juans may not sport as much red foliage compared to, say, New England—but they more than make up for it with the blow-you-away mountain scenery.

If you want to explore the area to find out for yourself, start by checking it out in Google Maps. Enter the coordinates "38.091066, -107.818623" (without quotes) in the search box.

August Thunderstorm in the Plains

I drove north of Williston, North Dakota one warm August evening to check out a thunderstorm approaching town. It looked like a promising subject, so I took as many ten-second exposures as I could in the hopes that I'd capture a few decent lightning images.

I kept at it until the first gusts from the approaching storm hit, kicking up clouds of dust as I made a beeline for my car. Once safely inside, I reviewed the images stored in my camera, and was happy to find this photo in the mix.

A lightning bolt illuminates the storm front

To see this image in its full size, click here.

— Gerald Blank

Moonrise over the Flathead Valley, Montana

After our last trip to Glacier National Park in Montana, my family and I spent a couple of days at Whitefish Mountain Resort west of Glacier, on the southern flank of Big Mountain.

A full moon was rising after sunset, so I hiked a farther up the mountain with camera and tripod in hand, and captured some nice twilight images of the moon rising over the Swan Valley in the southeast.

As the twilight faded away, the moon rose higher behind some spruce trees. From my vantage point, I could see Whitefish Lake and the town of Whitefish at the base of the mountain, and Kalispell and the Cabinet Mountains in the distance to the south. I was able to capture some really nice photos, which I liked better than the ones I had taken earlier.

Moonrise over Whitefish Lake and the Flathead Valley, Montana

To see this image in a larger size, click here.

Another hour passed before I finished up and hiked back down to the resort village in the moonlight. By that time, the rest of my family was sound asleep.

Upon returning home from our trip, I examined the raw image files on my computer monitor. Due to the fact that I was using a vintage 2005 digital camera, the image contained lots of noise in the dark areas—which was a pain, because the picture contained mostly dark areas. I applied enough noise reduction in Photoshop to make for a smooth sky, but that wiped out most of the detail in the foreground.

Fortunately, I had taken shots from the same location in the morning, when the lighting angle on the foreground trees was similar. With some careful copying, pasting, and clone stamping, I was able to restore the foreground detail in the night photo. It was a time consuming and tedious task, but I'm unlikely to get a second opportunity to capture the same image in the same place with my current camera outfit...so I consider it time well spent. I hope you agree.

— Gerald Blank

Shooting Stars in Montana's Bridger Mountains

In Montana, shooting stars and other wildlfowers can be seen blooming in moist areas as the snow recedes. That means most of them are found in the spring, but one can also find them in the summer near springs and waterfalls.

Driving north on Montana Highway 86 near Ross Peak in June, I was amazed to find an entire hillside covered with shooting stars. After receiving permission from the landowner to take pictures on the hillside, I got to work.

Shooting stars, with Ross Peak at left

As I did so, I realized that the soil of the hillside had a base of pulverized rock, which was laden with spring water from a higher elevation. The entire hillside was moist. As such, it made for ideal growing conditions for shooting stars. And with the snow-covered Bridger Mountains as a backdrop, who could ask for more?

Shooting stars are small flowers with bright colors, and are best viewed in person...but I believe I was able to capture the image well enough to share with you. To see this image in a larger view, click here.

 —Gerald Blank