Oh What A View! Mount Willard, Crawford Notch, NH.
Finally, Some Time In The Snow.
Reading all of the recent reports and seeing all of the photos of the snow in northern New Hampshire, has had me eagerly awaiting my first “winter” hike of the season. Wanting to get my feet on the snow and my first snowy sunset of the season, my friend Suzanne and I set off this past Saturday heading north in search of mountains, snow, and majestic views.
Frosted.
Though I’m a fairly experienced winter hiker, Suzanne is not, and with extremely high winds coupled with temps in the low teens, I made the call to attempt a much lower, much less exposed summit for our adventure.
Trying to decide on which mountain offered the right combination of ease of hiking, protection from the weather, and a killer view as a reward, I decided on Mt. Willard for our adventure.
With the mountains in and out of the clouds all day we were unsure of what would greet us when we reached the top. On this day the weather gods were indeed smiling on us! The view was as amazing as I anticipated, with the most beautiful light illuminating the summits lining Crawford Notch.
Announcing two different waterfall photography experiences.
Tama Falls, located in the Appalachia region of the White Mountains.
From a single day waterfall tour of the Crawford Notch region of New Hampshire, to a multi-day fully instructional waterfall photography workshop, I’ve got a waterfall experience for you.
First up, 8 waterfalls in a day.
Ripley Falls, one of the 8 wonderful waterfalls on the Crawford Notch Waterfall Tour.
Join me on Saturday, June 1st as we visit 8 waterfalls, all located within New Hampshire’s Crawford Notch. From the spectacular Arethusa Falls, the tallest continuously flowing waterfall in New Hampshire, to hidden gems slightly off the beaten path.
While not a true waterfall photography workshop, the Crawford Notch Waterfall Tour is for the waterfall enthusiast interested in visiting as well as photographing some of New Hampshire’s most beautiful waterfalls. Along the way I’ll be sharing many of my favorite techniques for capturing the beauty of waterfalls. For more info, or to sign up for this waterfall adventure, click HERE.
When a single day just won’t do.
Sabbaday Falls, White Mountain National Forest, NH.
For those who may be interested in really stepping up their waterfall photography, I’ll be leading a 2 1/2 day full fledged waterfall photography workshop on the weekend of June 21st – June 23rd.
This could be you!
This workshop will cover everything from setting up a unique composition to post processing using Lighroom and several creative plugins to achieve your final image.
I’ll go over my favorite techniques for capturing the beauty of falling water. I’ll talk about the importance of a good tripod. I’ll demonstrate why I never leave home without a quality circular polarizing filter, and so much more.
Getting wet for unique compositions. One of the many techniques I use for better waterfall images.
This workshop is open to the experienced and the beginner alike. If you’re interested in photographing waterfalls there’s no better place to do int than the White Mountains of New Hampshire.
Just a short hike away!
Join me as I assist you in making the waterfall images you’ve always wanted. Click HERE for more details or to reserve your spot today.
Last Saturday my good friend Suzanne (aka Chubby Hiker Chick) and I set out to visit Bridal Veil Falls in the Franconia Notch area of New Hampshire’s White Mountains. The hike was an easy 2.5 mile out and back with a modest elevation gain of only 1100′. The weather was perfect, the sun was shining, it should have taken us well under two hours to reach the falls.
Not if I had anything to say about it. Due to my stopping at everything that caught my eye it took a lot longer than it should have to reach the falls.
Distractions, Distractions.
Unfortunately for Suzanne I kept getting distracted by every little forest scene, shadow, and hole in the snow along the way. The low sunlight streaming through the forest was simply too good to pass up!
Every peeling birch tree, curve in a stream, and yes, even a hole hole in the snow revealing Coppermine Brook underneath, caught my eye and slowed our progress.
The near perfect roundness of this small, trashcan lid sized hole through the snow had me step off the trail into thigh-deep snow, and climbing down the steep stream bank to get a closer look, and a photograph.
We definitely weren’t going to set any speed records on this hike.
Eventually we made it to the Coppermine Shelter where we stopped for a quick snack before the final two tenths of a mile to the falls.
Finally!
We did eventually make it to Bridal Veil Falls, and we were not alone. A group of ice climbers were taking advantage of the spectacular ice and the great weather.
After a few quick photos both Suzanne and I started getting a little chilly, so we decided to make our way back to the car. Unfortunately for her, even being a little chilled wasn’t enough to keep me from stopping along the way.
If my constant stopping was getting on her nerves, she hid it very well. Then again, her smile could have been hiding the fact she was plotting my demise. 🙂
It’s been a about a year since I’ve set foot on the summit of New Hampshire’s Mount Avalon, and I think it’s time to go back, soon.
Located in Crawford Notch, Mount Avalon holds a well deserved place on the NH 52 With A View list.
Notch Views.
The hike to the summit is somewhat steep in places, but the views are well worth the effort. With the temperature hovering around -15°F it was little surprise I would have the summit all to myself as the last light of the day left the sky.
Solitude at Sunset.
I thinks it’s coming time for another evening watching the last light of the day leave the winter sky from the summit of this beautiful mountain.
The Gang’s All Here ~ Workshop participants get ready for the morning light at Wildlife Pond.
This past Columbus Day weekend, October 6~8, was my final Fall Foliage Workshop of the season, and Saturday morning, day 1, started out perfect. When we first arrived at Wildlife Pond there was a beautiful mist floating across the mirrored surface of the pond. On the far side of the pond stood Middle Sugarloaf Mountain, decorated in the brilliant colors of autumn, the mountainside bathed in golden light. Yet, as nice a scene as it was, there one thing missing. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Rather than a featureless blue sky, some white puffy clouds would complete the scene.
That was all about to change.
Be Careful What You Wish For.
Autumn Brilliance, Middle Sugarloaf Mountain over Wildlife Pond.
As if on cue, clouds came rolling in over the mountains, enhancing the already beautiful scene. Alas, with precious few dramatic exceptions, Saturday morning was pretty much the last time we would see the sun for the rest of the workshop.
Making Due When Mother Nature Doesn’t Play Nice.
Not the greatest sky for wide scenic photos.
Even though gray skies and the occasional rain shower would keep us from (mostly) photographing the wide mountain views that I’m sure all of the participants were hoping for…
We Still Had Waterfalls.
Overcast skies are great for waterfalls!
Mary composing her image at Rocky Gorge.
And We Had Intimate Landscapes.
Even light, white birch trees, and brilliant color.
Yet Every Once In A While, We Would See Sunlight.
Mist on the mountains.
And when we did, it was as dramatic as it was brief. Small breaks in the clouds would allow the sun to shine through, illuminating sections of the mountainsides as if someone were sweeping a spotlight across the granite ledges and golden trees. More often than not these brief moments of sunlight would disappear before camera could be brought to eye. All of us, the workshop participants and I, played a game of cat and mouse, wondering where the sun would peek through the clouds next and would we have time to capture it.
We Also Had Tourists.
Invasion of the Leaf Peepers.
Lots and lots of tourists.
Columbus Day weekend is one of, if not the biggest tourist weekend in the White Mountain region of New Hampshire. With good reason. People come from all over the world to view the spectacular mountain scenery awash in the vibrant colors of autumn.
The challenge for me as the workshop leader is to both show the participants beautiful locations while assisting them in capturing their own photos, while also avoiding the crowds at the more popular places in the White Mountains. Places like Rocky Gorge, Lower and Sabbaday Falls, as well as other locations along the Kancamasus Highway, the scenic byway that runs east to west through the mountains. The key is to get up early (luckily most tourists and tour bus drivers don’t keep photographer’s hours), then get in and out of the most popular (which usually means easy to get to) locations before the crowds descend upon us.
Unfortunately it’s all too easy to lose track of time at any one location, with each person lost in their own little photographic world. The problem is that the more time spent per location exponentially increases the chances that a tour bus will offload its passengers and we become overrun with what we here in New Hampshire affectionately refer to as Leaf Peepers. When this happened it was time to move on to less crowded environments.
Overall I think the participants came away with some really good images and had a good time doing so. This was the first time I had so many clients, 11. And the first time we all stayed under one roof, a lovely old farmhouse we reserved through AirBnB.
Lastly, I’d like to give a huge THANK YOU! to my good friend, Suzanne. She kept everyone well fed with delicious home cooked meals for the duration of the workshop. I’m not sure she knew what she was getting into when she offered to be our chef for the weekend, but she dealt with just about everything that was thrown at her, including a plumbing leak in the house, like a pro.
Located along the Bemis Brook trail in Crawford Notch State Park, Coliseum Falls is one of New Hampshire’s most beautiful and unique waterfalls.
While far from the tallest waterfall in New Hampshire, nearby Arethusa Falls holds that distinction at nearly 200′, what Coliseum Falls lacks in vertical drop(roughly 25′ in total broken up over three section)it more than makes up for with it’s unique geology.
Another feature that makes Coliseum Falls worth a visit, is that you’ll often have it all to yourself. Along with Fawn Pool and Bemis Brook Falls, both also located a short distance from each other along the Bemis Brook Trail, their close proximity to the above mentioned Arethusa Falls (you actually start your journey to these falls on the Arethusa Falls Trail), means most visitors to the area hike right on by the Bemis Brook Trail junction without giving it a second glance.
Even when the parking lot at the trailhead is full of cars, I usually see few if any people at Coliseum or Bemis Brook Falls.
That’s just fine by me.
To be able to have this spectacular series of waterfalls all to myself is one of the reasons it’s high on my list of favorite New Hampshire waterfalls.
Note: when visiting the falls along Bemis Brook, ignore the signs when you get to the falls. While the sign at Fawn Pool is correct, Coliseum has a sign indicating it is Bemis Falls and Bemis Falls has a sign indicating it is Coliseum.
For a different perspective I waded into the stream below Thompson Falls in New Hampshire’s White Mountains.
In Part 1 of my waterfall photography series I discussed the gear you’ll find in my bag when I head out to photograph them, and in Part 2 I talked about camera settings and how I choose them.
Now in the third and final installment I’d like to share some thoughts on composition and how to help set your waterfall photos apart from all the rest.
Cascade Composition.
When it comes to composing waterfall photographs my strategy is simple, get wet, get low, and above all, look for a unique perspective.
Get Wet.
Surprisingly most people don’t even consider the idea of getting in the water for a different perspective when photographing waterfalls.
Not me.
About the only time you’ll ever see me photographing a waterfall from dry land is when its unsafe to do otherwise. If I feel I can safely wade into the river or stream below a waterfall and capture a unique angle, I won’t hesitate for a second to get right in.
SAFTEY, SAFETY, SAFETY!!
I cannot stress enough the importance of safety when it comes to stepping into a river or stream. The current can be fast and powerful, especially during spring runoff or after a heavy rain. Also, the rocks are often very slippery. Very, very slippery. Only attempt getting into the water if you are 100% confident in your abilities and have realistically assessed the conditions.
Get Low.
By setting my tripod below this little plunge I was able to capture a low to the water perspective.
We view the world from eye level every day, sometimes the easiest ways to create a compelling photograph is to simply lower(or raise) your camera. This goes hand-in-hand with getting wet, which I had to do in order to set my tripod up for the photo above.
If your camera has a tilting LCD you can even make low to the water compositions with out getting wet. Well not too wet 😉
Try Something Different.
Waterfall selfie.
Looking down on Upper Ammonoosuc Falls.
Avoid the Obvious, Try Something Unique.
When first visiting a waterfall, quite often there’s a composition that’s immediately obvious.
Avoid it.
If it’s obvious to you it was probably obvious to the last hundred people to photograph there as well. Instead, try to find something new. Whatever it is, try to NOT take the same photo everyone else has.
When scouting new waterfalls the first thing I do is search Google for images of it, then once I’ve studied them a little I put every effort into not taking the same photos.
Let’s take a look at the two photos above. Both were taken at Upper Ammonoosuc Falls in New Hampshire. This spectacular waterfall is pretty much road-side and has been photographed countless times I’m sure. So with that in mind, once I captured a few more conventional compositions, I decided to try something a little different.
For the first picture I set my camera up for a 30 second exposure and set my Canon TC-80n3 timer remote to give me enough time to run upstream, cross the bridge, then scramble down to get into position. The result, due to misjudging the time, is me as a ghost* staring upstream into the distance. While I was hoping for a more “normal” selfie of me, I liked this one so much I didn’t bother to try again and get the timing right.
*Ghostly me is the result of me moving out of the frame before the exposure was finished.
For the next photo not only did I chose a faster shutter speed in order to show some of the power of the waterfall,* I decided to lay my tripod on its side, legs fully extended, so I could hang my camera out over the edge for a more straight down view.
*Besides being a spectacular example of how water can wear down granite given enough time, Upper Ammonoosuc Falls’ other claim to fame is that it is New Hampshire’s deadliest swimming hole, claiming over a dozen lives throughout the years.
Look past the big picture.
Another trick for making unique waterfall photos is to try and look past the big picture. Some waterfalls and cascades are so big and impressive the first thought is, “how am I going to fit this all into one photograph?”
Diana’s Baths is one such place. With really good flow only during spring runoff and after heavy rains (I personally have never seen it as good as it is in the linked video), photographing the entire waterfall often results in rather unspectacular photos with a lot of rock and little water. However, even when the flow is low there are still a lot of chutes, plunges, and small falls to occupy your time.
After wandering around a bit, the small pothole in the above photo caught my eye. With the large center rock surrounded by numerous and colorful smaller rocks I knew it would make an interesting foreground. So I set my camera as close to the water as I could(yes I was on my knees to get this shot), and framed the composition you see here.
Portrait orientation, not just for people anymore.
Lastly, just because this is “landscape” photography doesn’t mean you need to keep your camera in landscape orientation.
When getting ready to photograph a waterfall that’s a lot taller than it is wide I will almost always photograph it with my camera set in the vertical, or portrait, orientation. It’s not much, but you’d be amazed at how often people don’t even think about photographing a landscape image in anything but landscape orientation.
Hopefully with the information I’ve shared in this three part series on waterfall photography your next waterfall photography adventure results in even better waterfall photos.
Hopefully you find some of these tips useful on your next waterfall adventure.
If you’d like to learn more in person, while photographing some truly amazing waterfalls, there are still 3 spots left for my upcoming White Mountain Waterfalls Workshop. Click HERE for more details or to reserve your spot on this waterfall adventure weekend.
There’s no better way to increase the odds of capturing exciting landscape photos than doing it when the weather is unstable and the sky isn’t just an expanse of clear blue nothing.
As you may have seen in my last post, when I started on my early morning hike into New Hampshire’s Tuckerman Ravine a couple of weeks ago, there really wasn’t a lot of hope that we’d even see the sun(It wasn’t until well after sunrise when we finally did). The forecast called for as least 70%-80% cloud cover at sunrise.
Funny thing though, that’s not the forecast I saw at all. I didn’t see “70%-80% clouds with almost zero chance of a spectacular sunrise,” all I saw was a 20%-30% chance of an amazing sky over the mountains when the sun came up.
Sure, in this case the sun was a little late to the show, but when it finally did make an appearance it did so in a pretty spectacular way.
Increase your odds of capturing amazing skies.
When clouds and sun collide.
Besides the basic weather forecast, there’s really only two other things I look at when planning a sunrise or sunset photo outing, both having to do with clouds.
First, will there be any clouds, if so how much cloud cover is predicted.
The second, and probably the most important for me is where the leading or trailing edges of the weather front and clouds will be in relation to the horizon at sunrise or sun set.
Lets take sunrise for example. For the sunrise above, by checking the forecast for the day I made this photo I knew the day was going to be increasingly cloudy in the morning, with rain likely. Then, using a combination of the hourly forecast and radar features in the weather app on my phone, it looked like the leading edge of the weather front would be passing out to sea right around sunrise.*
Obviously this isn’t an exact science by any means, and I’ve gotten rained on and come away without the dramatic skies I was hoping for more times than I can count.
But when it works, you’re likely to be rewarded with some of the most dramatic fiery skies you’ll ever photograph.
* For sunset I’ll be looking to see where the trailing rather than leading edge of the weather front will be in relation the the horizon as the sun sets.
Sunrise came and went without a hint of the headwall before us.
For the last ten years I’ve made an early spring trek into Tuckerman Ravine to photograph the grandeur of the headwall as its bathed in first light. The hike in isn’t too difficult, about 2.5 miles to the Hermit Lake shelter, where you catch your first real glimpse of your destination, the magnificent headwall of the ravine. With another .7 miles from the shelter into the bowl of the ravine itself. Where the immensity of the place will make you feel really, really small.
While the hike itself isn’t too hard, being only moderately steep in places, the 2:30-3 a.m. start and hike in the dark if you want to be there when the first rays of sunlight hit the headwall, just might kill you 🙂
On this years adventure I was joined by my good friend Chris Whiton, another amazing New Hampshire landscape photographer. Chris is someone who shares my passion for beautiful mountain scenery, and who’s also willing to put in the effort to capture it in the most dramatic light.
Little hope for sunrise.
Better late than never.
When we first arrived in the bowl, we had little hope we were going to get the sunrise we had hoped for. It was snowing, it was a tiny bit breezy (and by that I mean it was windy as hell!), and the sky was a dull grey.
We took shelter as best we could from the 30-50mph wind gusts blowing up through the ravine as we waited/hoped for some amazing first light.
Unfortunately sunrise came and went with not so much as a bright spot visible on the horizon. So after capturing a few images, like the first one at the top of this post, Chris and I decided it was time to head back down. We had gambled on the weather, as so often is the case in the pursuit of dramatic light, and we lost.
Or so we thought.
It started with a faint glimmer.
If you’re going to be late to the party you might as well make one heck of an entrance!
As we were heading back to where we left our packs while we wandered around, doing our best to salvage something from what looked to be a dud of a sunrise, we noticed a slight bright spot in the sky over the mountains to the east.
Then, as if Mother Nature took pity on us and decided to reward our efforts, the sun burst through the clouds in one of the most spectacular displays of light I’ve ever witnessed. With the clouds swirling above us, a single ray of light beamed down from the sky.
It was so amazing I completely forgot how cold I was getting, and that I could barely feel my fingers anymore. All I cared about now was capturing this unbelievable light show before it was gone. The amazing thing was that no matter how the clouds were blown, how much of the sun was alternately revealed then concealed, this ray of light lingered for at least 15 minutes, possibly more.
For those of you who also chase dramatic light, you know how fleeting it can be, with 15+ minutes being a relative eternity, with killer light more often than not lasting mere minutes.
Oh yea, the headwall.
We came, and we finally saw.
The sun needed to be pretty low to the horizon to have given up the beautiful pink alpenglow that we were after, so by the time any sunlight entered the bowl of the ravine, all hope of a glowing pink mountain side was gone. Still, the headwall of Tuckerman Ravine is always a truly spectacular sight.
Jeff Sinon Photography 