After an annual pilgrimage into the Three Sisters Wilderness with friends a week prior, I had a compulsion to do it again, but this time solo.  It had been a while since I had the opportunity to capture a night sky on a clear moonless night. And this happened to be an even more significant time to be out.  I had coincidently picked to venture out while the Perseid meteor shower was peaking. 

Again using Google Earth, and an app I had on my phone to explore the night sky, I calculated the general vicinity I wanted to be in to capture the Milky Way.  Glancing closer at some topographic maps, I used advanced tracking techniques (I googled images of the Three Sisters) to find my next location.  Boom!  There it was!  A small alpine lake located on the slope of the Middle Sister;  Camp Lake was where I was going to capture the celestial fireworks display.  

To most avid hikers, this was a comfortable day hike spanning 14 miles over a surreal landscape.  But add to the fact that I was bringing all my camping gear and 10 pounds of camera equipment, this one would be a little more difficult than normal.  Getting to the trailhead was no joke either as I would have to drive an hour away and then navigate through a trove of un-marked forrest roads.

To my surprise, the trailhead was packed full of other people, and the small area for parking was overflowing with vehicles.  I laced up my boots, gathered my hiking poles, and trudged forward.  Just as quickly as I stumbled upon a crowd, I found myself all alone with only my thoughts and a few chipmunk to join me.  Transitioning from a previously burnt forest, to a pristine wilderness, to cold glacial run-offs, small buttes, and increasingly steep hills… this trail had it all.  

Suddenly the silence of the whispering trees broke into a loud familiar sound.  Rushing water!  With no clear path across a rushing stream, I walked along its sandy banks to find the safest crossing.  Several steep waterfalls, rushing deep waters, and questionable log crossings later, the small river had me reminiscing of my photo escapades at Oneonta Gorge.  

In times like this I suppose it would be best to spend the night and wait for the waters to recede before attempting to cross, but I mustn’t be bothered with common sense in times like this.  So at that moment I took the time to make sure all my equipment was secured tightly and I began the treacherous balancing act across a dilapidated tree carcass.  A few precarious steps later, I found solid ground on the other side.

I began to encounter some people hiking back towards the trailhead, which gave me indication that the lake was near.  For some, the lake was the turn around point of an out-and-back trail, and others like myself, this was the destination.  Shadows grew greater as the sun sunk lower into the horizon. Some parts of glacial run-off waters began freezing back into ice.  To my relief, I was able to spot a small gathering of tents scattered around this icy oasis hidden within the volcanic rock.  I had reached Camp Lake.

The winds began to grow fierce, so I quickly staked out my location at the southern portion of the lake.  Setup deep within some twisted juniper trees, I prepared myself for what was going to be a breathtaking night. The clock struck 10:30 so I made my way down to the frigid waters.  My mind began playing tricks and in the absolute darkness, fear started to take over.  However, that trepidation quickly elapsed, as my night vision corrected itself; now everything seemed so vibrant.  It seemed as if the sky was so bright, it was going to give me a “star tan”.  

I began drowning in emotions, and I almost started to cry as flashes of light began streaking across the sky.  As difficult as it was to start focusing on my camera, I had to return to why I was there in the first place.  Slowly I was tracking the Milky Way moving across the sky. I knew my moment would soon be there.  After taking dozens of sample shots, the galaxial cluster of stars and dust aligned itself perfectly above the stratovolcano I lovingly know as the South Sister.  A couple 30 second exposures later and the sight was gone.  I headed back to my tent and tried to get whatever sleep I could before continuing back to the trail at sunrise.

Perhaps the beauty of the sunrise that next morning could bring some people to their knees, but I was almost numbed to it as I began packing my gear.  The area transformed into a golden landscape complete with morning mist nestled on the surface of the lake.  I just wanted to focus on my surroundings rather than my camera for once, so I began the 7 mile hike back to my jeep.

I think from a technical standpoint there are quite a few things I could have done to improve this image.  Being a little rusty with my astrophotography skills didn’t help things, but overall I came back home with good photos and experiences.  Being alone in the wilderness is scary to me.  When the going gets tough, facing fears can make you stronger.  Keep trying, and when all your experiences, good or bad, start to add up, you can go out there and really achieve something special.    

Comments are closed.