hiking franconia ridge

I took these photos on 35mm film back in early November during a hike with students up Falling Waters Trail, across the Franconia Ridge, and then down the Old Bridle Path. It took a while for me to develop the roll, and today I finally managed to scan a few of the negatives.


I like this vantage point, below rows of icicles slowly melting and drip-drip-dripping onto a patch of ice below. There used to be a branch hanging precariously overhead here, snapped and barely connected to the body of the tree, but it seems that over the past year or so, someone decided to take it down and make the trail a little safer for passers-by.


This was one of the first views we got of Franconia Notch as we ascended Falling Waters Trail and got close to treeline. On a clear day, Cannon Mountain with its steep cliff wall would loom across the Notch, but on this hike, we were above the clouds; everything else, below.


This is a view looking over the Pemigewasset Wilderness. This black-and-white image adds to the feeling of winter, isolation, and desolation. Wisps of clouds rise up, as if to engulf all life up here.


Sebastian brought a hot thermos on the trip and insisted that we bring hot chocolate with us. He managed to find someone else to carry the thermos but made sure to enjoy the rewards of Nathan's labor. Here, Sebastian, Braden, and Brendan enjoy a hot drink at the summit of Little Haystack before we begin the traverse over to Lincoln and then Lafayette.


Another look at the sea of clouds, with other peaks just barely visible.


Here we are at Lafayette, resting behind a stone wall, looking weary and completely uninspired for the trek back to the van. No hot chocolate here to take Brendan and Nathan's minds off of the long journey that still lies ahead.


Looking back on Little Haystack as we crossed the Ridge, I caught this image during a rare break in the thick cloud cover that we experienced all day. I love the contrast of the dark rock against the snow that has begun to accumulate, and in the background, one can see some of the other peaks in the area. These mountains are simply majestic, and I cannot describe the feeling of being up above treeline in the Whites other than to say that it is truly awe-inspiring.

hiking the franconia ridge

A couple of photographs I shot recently while hiking Franconia Ridge. Little did we know when we pulled into the parking lot and saw the heavy cloud cover that we'd end up hiking through the clouds and then hiking above the clouds!


sea of clouds

I took this second photograph atop Lafayette, after we battled strong headwinds and crosswinds for a mile and a half. This stone wall provided much needed protection so that we could summon the energy needed for the hike back down. The icy conditions and unrelenting gusts of wind did little to assist our efforts!


seeking refuge

lightning storm

I love thunder and lightning. I love the bright flashes of light, the roaring claps of thunder, and when it rains, I love the loud tapping of raindrops on the outside of the house.

I don't love thunder and lightning as much when I'm caught outdoors. A number of years ago, I was hiking across a ridge in Colorado, when a storm quickly moved in and lightning began to strike no more than a mile away from us. The air become so charged that I could feel electricity running through my hair, and the swinging of my hands as I walked caused sparks to form. My buddy, Matt, and I sprinted out of the saddle we were in and onto the next summit, where we failed to find the trail down. Our only course of action was to surf down a scree field, away from the dangerous electric bolts emanating from the sky. (Later that day, while watching the news, we learned that a woman had died because of lightning strike, not far from where we had been hiking.)

I made this photograph last night during a lightning storm. I set up my D90 and tripod on the back porch and aimed at the sky. Setting the shutter to "bulb" mode and using a wireless remote, I repeatedly opened and closed the shutter, trying to catch the streaking lightning bolts but preventing the image from becoming too bright due to long exposure.

I never seemed to have my camera pointed in the right direction, and on several occasions when I saw lightning overhead, I saw nothing but a bright sky upon closing the shutter and checking the image on the camera's LCD.

The orange sky here is due to the long exposure and white balance, which was set to "cloudy". In actuality, the nighttime sky was a dark blue, the light of the waxing moon hidden by thick clouds. I finally managed to capture some lightning, sufficient reinforcement that I will research lightning photography technique it preparation for the next storm.