One More Hike

Several years ago, I spent five days alone in Oregon in late October, exploring locations for a photography workshop I envisioned, and it rained every day.  For those five days, I hiked along rivers through valleys, forests, and canyons to some spectacular waterfalls, often without seeing another person.  Some of the locations were familiar, although I'd never photographed them surrounded by rich fall color, while others were completely new to me.

There's something incredible about having places like these entirely to yourself, but there's also something eerie about it, and I was constantly aware that I was alone.  Finding the compositions I wanted often meant carefully working my way into places where I wasn't even sure I could get to, or just as importantly, get back out of. 

I was cold and wet and already had photographs from many of these places, and there were moments when I seriously considered quitting.  It would have been easy to decide I had enough and rely on what I'd photographed before.  But I knew that wasn't enough.

I needed to capture the familiar locations transformed by fall color, and I needed to keep exploring new places if I was going to create an itinerary that offered something different.  So every day, I kept going, and the rain that made exploring challenging also transformed the landscape.
 
Waterfalls and streams came alive, the forests were saturated with vibrant color, and places I'd photographed before suddenly looked completely different.  With nobody else around, I had plenty of time to simply appreciate what I witnessed.  And it was magnificent.



By the final afternoon, I was exhausted.  I'd been photographing the north side of Silver Falls State Park for hours, and the accumulated miles of the previous days were catching up with me.  But there was still one place I needed to see.

Middle North Falls.

I had photographed it before, but there was little water flowing over it, and it was just a single thin plume.  I'd seen photographs of what the waterfall could become with enough rain - a beautiful, wide cascade - and after days of rainfall, I hoped this might finally be my chance to see it that way.  Getting there meant another hike, and once again, I considered just calling the scouting trip finished and heading back to the car.  But I didn't.

When I finally reached Middle North Falls, there was more water flowing over it than I'd ever seen in person.  It wasn't completely full, but there was just enough water spreading across the basalt ledge to create beautiful streaks cascading below.  I walked behind the waterfall and continued around to the other side, and that's when I saw it.  The entire valley below me was illuminated in yellow, gold, orange and green.

Standing there, looking across that valley, I knew the itinerary was complete.  And I knew it was going to be a fantastic trip.  The hike back to the parking lot was long and draining, and also completely worth it.

That five-day scouting trip became the foundation for my Oregon Fall Colors Photography Workshop, and all these years later, it's still my favorite workshop in the Pacific Northwest.  Part of that is because I know how beautiful these places become in autumn.  But part of it will always be because of those five days alone - exploring, discovering, and watching how familiar landscapes were transformed into something I'd never experienced before.

This October, I'll return to those same forests, canyons, rivers, waterfalls, and valleys with a small group of photographers to experience and photograph one of the most beautiful times of year in Oregon. 

I hope you'll join me.