The Sierra Nevada is home to Yosemite National Park, Lake Tahoe, and the tallest peak in the contiguous United States – Mt. Whitney. 100 million years of underground formation followed by four million years of uplifting and glacier erosion has made the Sierra’s features unlike any other mountain range. Upon first glance, the walls appear scarred and battered as most geological formations do, but with closer examination one will discover the intricate work of our world’s natural elements. Shear polished walls, severed shelves, glistening Quartz Crystal, and granite blocks stacked as if performing a balancing act. It often appears the Sierra has been sculpted an artist.

Located on the south eastern side of the Sierra stands the hulking Palisade Range. Some of the tallest peaks in the country rest here – Mount Sill, North Palisade, and Middle Palisade. While an ambitious feat, there is an overwhelming desire for climbers to summit all of these peaks in a single outing. Not only is this range famous for it’s 14ers, but also carries the title as the home to the southernmost permanent glacier in the Northern Hemisphere – the Palisade Glacier. Like most of the world’s glaciers, the Palisade Glacier is retreating and will soon be gone. One small kept secret about this area is Mount Agassiz. At 13,900 feet, it’s seems alienated by its neighbors. While it maybe 100 feet shy of the 14,000 mark, Mount Agassiz, in my opinion, has one of the most scenic summits on the east side of the Sierra. And depending on the shape of the hiker, it can be treated as an afternoon adventure.

Since my first climb of the peak several years ago, I’d been wanting to photograph the Palisade Range during magic hour. Not only did I desire to capture the alpen glow reflecting off the white granite walls, but I had a longing to summit another peak at sunrise. Since my expeditions to the top of Mt. Whitney, Basin Mountain, and Mt. Tom, I had become addicted to the sense of freedom that results from standing on top of these peaks at sunrise.

Due to my recent move to Los Angeles and a knee injury, I decided to make the trip in late August. The trip was initially intended to test the health of my knee as I had been planning to hike the Sierra High Route in early September.

I embarked on this adventure with a childhood friend, Jacob, and his dog, Smoke. It was the first time back in the Sierra since my last days on the John Muir Trail and being back in the wilderness energized my spirit. Along the way, we gathered wild onions for dinner and swam in a cool apline lake before heading to Bishop Pass. It was a nice break to be away from the city. The passing hikers always seemed to say “hello” with a smile – I had almost forgot how friendly people were on the trail. Once we setup camp, I sprinted down into Dusy Basin to capture sunset.

Back at camp, Jacob and I shared a filling meal of potatoes and chili. Smoke ate the leftovers which later resulted in a disturbing amount of gas.

I didn’t get much sleep (thanks to Smoke) and I woke to discover I would be hiking the final 2,000 foot 2nd/3rd class alone – Jacob changed his mind. I cruised the first half of Agassiz, but about half way my knee became irritated. I attempted to stay on the 3rd/4th class sections as a means to climb more on my arms than my legs. Unfortunately the final approach was an unavoidable section of boulder hopping which made every step more painful. I finally made the summit with about 5 minutes to spare. As envisioned the rising sun hit the Palisade Range with a beautiful pink hue which slowly gave way to a vibrant orange then yellow glow. The view was spectacular.

While previous plans involved spending the night in the Basin and making the ascent early in the morning, Doug Tomczik made a convincing argument to cut the camping. With Robert Holder leading the pack, we made our approach around 12:30 a.m. With no moon nor clouds, the Milky Way and Stars illuminated the night! During our rests, the headlamps would turnoff so we could embrace the beauty of the night sky. Robert having recently returned from Minnesota and I, Montana, we found the temperatures to be pleasant. We made the hike in our shorts while Doug, in pants and coat.

After 3,000 vertical feet of hiking, another 2,000 vertical foot trudge up the east couloir, a wrong turn, and a final 400 foot 4th class climb we made it to the top.

Here are a few images from the trip including an aerial shot of the mountain from a previous post. The panorama consists of 6 stitched images.

Click the small arrow/box on the upper right corner of the image to enlarge!

Astronomy's Collector Edition

See more at: Astronomy

The local Mammoth Sierra Magazine featured my Wild Iris Pond for their spring issue and California Sportsman’s March issue featured an article on the eastern Sierra and included a inside spread of Winter Sunrise at Farmer’s Pond.

Wild Iris Pond, Round Valley, CA

Developing the kaleidoscopes took numerous weeks of research and mirror design.  These scopes eventually measured 2 feet long and around 3 to 10 inches in diameter (depending on the number of mirrors).   The kaleidoscopes ranged from 3 mirror designs to 6 mirror designs to tapered mirror designs. Combined with 15 different fabrics, I photographed hundreds of unique patterns.  At one point I placed an oversized fake diamond between the fabric and kaleidoscopes which multiplied the number of angles by at least 10 offering what seemed to be an infinite number of patterns.

Music by John Etherridge and Mark Johns