Posted on April 15, 2018
I guess it’s possible to do landscape photography in Iceland and not shoot waterfalls (foss in Icelandic), but it wouldn’t be as much fun. New York art dealer types think images of waterfalls are cliched. But their idea of getting out in nature is a trip to the Hamptons. For a landscape photographer, the waterfall is a lovely compilation of the essential forces of nature, geology, water, erosion, light. For the photog in Iceland, the waterfall is a genre unto itself.
Given all the rain, the glaciers and a volcanic shape, Iceland has thousands of waterfalls. There are 100 or more that are named and worth visiting if you’re in the area. And like Niagara and Iguazu Falls, the more impressive ones in Iceland have personalities.
Godafoss, the God waterfall, is water falling along a curve. It’s also a name with a history, of Icelanders rejecting the old gods in favor of Christianity. Kirkjufellsfoss, the falls next to church-shaped mountain, is almost always shot with the mountain. Like Ben and Jerry, the two gain power by their proximity. Dettifoss is one of the largest waterfalls in Europe.
The Art of It
Proximity is the secret with shooting almost any waterfall because they are by definition about relationship. This creature exists as a total flow. The river reaching the lip of a high plateau, the falling part, the landing place, the lower river, it’s all of a piece. And as visual artists, our job is to choose how much of that complex shape we’ll capture within the frame.
That’s the general problem most photographers have, framing the essence of a falls. Anyone can take an OK pic of a waterfall. Waterfalls have inherent drama and even a bad picture of Gullfoss will impress.
But pointing and shooting aren’t enough for a good image. Instead of just putting the falls into a 2 dimensional frame, I generally try and think of the stages of the waterfall as taking place within three dimensions — like the beast is in real life. I want the eye to go on a journey back to the origin or on towards the downstream goal.
By taking the eye along a journey into the frame, we’re just using the mind’s natural tendency to dive into a reality. So, in the image above, the cliff edge is our foreground. Behind that, the water captures our attention and pulls us towards the mist and the rainbow and the ground below and finally, to the surrounding landscape.
Take a sec to see how this Gullfoss image pulls the eye into the frame. …
First, the left and right river banks are leading lines, as is the little fence and walkway at bottom left. The churning white of the falling water also gets our attention because I set the shutter speed slow enough to cause motion blur in the central section. And of course, the green-blue coloring in the water also captures the eye, especially in a landscape so totally black and white. The eye wants to move upstream before becoming immersed in the details of this 3-level waterfall.
The inherent challenge with photography is that the initial image is essentially flat. The camera can only see in 2-D. Plus the RAW file flattens out color, contrast, sharpness even more. So the composition and the post-production needs to work overtime to give the image the immersive quality of our initial experience.
Posted on April 11, 2018
I knew doing a solo road trip through Iceland makes perfect sense for a photographer. — if only because other choices have drawbacks. Group tours are a great value, a perfect introduction to a new culture and good experiences for a tourist. But these tours in any country also force the photographer to work around a tourist schedule.
Doing one of the tours for photo enthusiasts is another way to experience the country, the most perfect way for photographers. You get to the location at the perfect time, you get lots of tips about shooting that spot, you end up with lots of awesome shots.
But the photo tours cost some serious money. And I knew that I could do location research and shooting on my own — having done the two Utah books and lots of blog posts on that subject. So my March road trip to the South Coast was a trial balloon, a proof of concept. I would do a three day road trip as location research for my book.
Step 1 for Road Trip, Rent a Car
Given my general lack of knowledge about this island in the North Atlantic, getting the car rental nailed down was important. I needed to see if a 4-wheel would be necessary in March, I wanted to make sure about a GPS… and then there was the price.
Car rentals aren’t generally cheap in Europe and Iceland is no exception. Plus with the range of roads and how many photo spots are located on gravel or 4-wheel drive roads, insurance costs are on the high side.
I emailed a few car rental places and they told me that the South Coast roads, don’t generally get too snowed for obvious reasons, low altitude, further south, Gulf Stream. But, if it does snow and you don’t have 4-wheel, the wind will knock you all over the road. I got the 4-wheel.
There are lots of car rental companies in Reykjavik and I ended up with a local company that was highly recommended (and not overpriced) called Lagoon Car Rental. And we set things up so that when I was ready, their person would pick me up at my hotel, get me on the road and let me drop the car off at the airport (as you’d expect). I was going straight back to the US that evening.
So at the appointed time, the young lady from Lagoon was there to pick me up. We chatted a bit on the way, about what growing up in Iceland is like, with me throwing out questions and observations. She walked me though the paperwork, no surprises there. And gave me the keys to the 4-wheel (a free upgrade;-).
Given the fact that I only drive a 4-wheel on rare occasions, I asked her to walk me though the gearing and the GPS. And I was on the road. Good car, good price… and folks easy to work with. Their contact info: firstname.lastname@example.org, +354 515 2220.
Posted on April 6, 2018
Lots of people don’t want to bother with planning. They want to book a flight and hotel and then wing it. And in a way, that’s what the savvy traveler does — engage oneself in the moment of a place , the one on one interaction with an environment. Anything rather than the mind-numbing approach of following a rigid list of Must Sees in Paris.
And if you’re just gonna go from hotel to beach and back again, the old don’t-plan-anything approach can pretty much work. (Except for booking hotel, flights, island travel, etc.) But that’s not in the cards if you’re doing an Iceland road trip.
Unless you’re doing tours (where the company does the logistics), a creative/photo oriented road trip requires planning, detailed planning … which allows you to then take a full two hours to engage with a photo location or go on a hike or do a blog post.
You need to build time into a good Ring Road trip — but time in specific spots. If photography is a guiding issue, you’ll want to know which photo locations are where on your road map — otherwise you’ll get your accommodations all wrong.
Now that detailing of a trip isn’t a hassle if you don’t make it one (and if I ever put this little travel book together). All your really doing is knowing what the cool spots are, thus giving yourself the time to explore them.
Logistics are pure karma, part of the creative path. Deal with that part and you (such a savvy traveler), can improvise. You can decide that this historical village is worth it and that waterfall, whose name you can’t pronounce, is one too many. Set aside enough time and you get to have a moment of pure creativity in a place you’ve never seen before… and that’s about as good as it gets.
You plan it before hand based on best knowledge then listen to your instincts when you’re on location.
Where to stop
I need a clear understanding of my itinerary stops before I book a BnB. But what are the best photo opportunities for landscape photographers? The photo tours don’t publicize those details for obvious reasons.
The various guidebooks can give me the general points of interest. But this is a photo tour and guidebooks provide almost no help when it comes to photo points of interest.
The Iceland itinerary companies out there provide a few recommendations for photos, they know where the tour buses go. But they have no idea about the crucial photo issues:
- What makes a good photo location
- How much shoot time is this location worth
- What time of day is best for that shot location
So, since I haven’t written the Iceland book, I need a good idea of potential shot locations (with my internal stack-ranking) and where they’re clustered. That’ll tell me what towns to stay at and for how long.
To handle this level of logistical planning I took a large map of the island and placed representative photos of the various photography locations where they are on the map. That allowed me to visualize my personal favorites in the context of travel times and lodging.
Now, think for a second about maps. They’re not just a guy thing unless someone wants to give one of the great tools of life over to the other sex. No, a map is a graphical metaphor for the physical landscape. That makes it important for landscape photogs on every level.
See, when I travel to a place, I want to develop an internal sense of where everything is — the way I have in the place I come from. The closer my internal framework is to life, the easier travel gets.
So when I look at my little scrapbook-like map, I can imagine what each day looks like. I look down at the peninsula at the bottom left of the map, the one with that big spot of red ink for Reykjavik, and a couple of inches to the left of that, Keflavik International Airport.
Now the map let’s me think the steps through as drive-time and stops: Get into the airport at that god-awful time, get the rental car, head to Route 1, follow it down the South Coast a couple hours, past some waterfalls and then the little BnB. I’ll want to chill there for a few hours after all those hours of traveling. Then some food before doing an evening photo shoot at those two waterfalls (the tour buses will have left) or maybe wander down to Vik and the Black Sand Beach.
A map gives the brain an objective reference point, not a bad thing.
Researching my photo locations
I did plenty of exploring on the Internet before my trip last March. I was particularly interested in spots that are popular on the photo web sites like 500px, Viewbug and Instagram. It’s helpful to check out the work of other photographers. First because you want a sense of what a waterfall or town or historical spot is really like. After all, there are hundreds of waterfalls on the island, some more spectacular (or charming) than others. So you start to see what the “marquee” photo locations are and where they’re located.
I also did searches of Iceland day tours and photo tours. These sites tell you which places the tourist industry thinks of as most enticing and photogenic (but they don’t share any of the logistics).
But it doesn’t take long to realize that these web sites (like the web itself) are biased. The locations that get all the web traffic, the “marquee” locations, are dramatic — and easy day trips from the city. The web pages you see reflect the businesses and people who want to drum up business, not actual need.
These are also sights that get the massive numbers of tour buses. And as a photographer, I want to know that. For instance, two waterfalls in the south, Seljalandsfoss and Skogafoss, are super popular with the tours, even in winter. And most of the Instagram shots feature thousands of tourists. Some of that can be cleared up in Photoshop, but a better solution is to visit that location before 9 AM or after 6, when the buses are heading back to Reykjavik.
A marquee shot or a pull-off
If I were a purist, I could avoid the popular spots altogether. After all, what fun is it to shoot a spot that’s been done and overdone by Instagram. Why set up a tripod and risk being hit by selfie sticks and run over by exuberant tourist. Fair question.
Shooting these locations during tourist hours is no fun. So shooting when the buses are gone is one choice. For other marquee locations like Gullfoss (on the Golden Circle), the tourists aren’t such an issue because you and the hordes are shooting from the cliffs above.
It’s true that the marquee locations have been done to death. So I probably won’t have anything unique to say. But what do I care? It’s a cool location, it has its own set of challenges, its an excuse for me to get in the zone… as long as I know when to visit. That’s another reason I’m doing this book research.
And in Iceland, there’s a country full of sights, amazing sights, that just don’t get the traffic. There are no tours to these spots. Some of my fav images from March were places not in the guidebooks, just pull-offs on the Ring Road. Each was a challenge no other photog has ever faced. Each forced me to see value in unexpected places.
The photo landscape of the Ring Road
Once we take Reykjavik out of the equation with 90% of the population, we have a number of photo worthy spots along the Ring Road.
Reykjavik to Vik. The South Coast has none of the fjords you see in the rest of the country and no ports. The area from 8 to 6 on the clock of Iceland is an alluvial plain with farms and black sand beaches. Given it’s closeness to the city, the area is hugely popular for tours (and photographers) with a couple of famous waterfalls and at the bottom tip, the beaches and sea stacks around the tiny town of Vik.
Vik to Hofn. From Vik to Hofn (6 to 4 o’clock), there’s a monster glacier just inland and, of interest to photographers, a national park, more waterfalls, Glacier Lagoon and Diamond Beach.
Eastern Iceland towns. The eastern side just north of Hofn doesn’t get many tourists. But if you stay along the coast instead of taking Route 1 inland, you’ll find that each of the scenic fjords has a fishing village or two and several have some charm. This is the real country, the way things were before Iceland got discovered by the global economy.
Northeast from Eglisstadir to Akureyri. From 2 up to 12 on the clock, the Ring Road pulls away from the coast and climbs into high country. Not many people up here until you get due north, to the scenic Lake Mavatn and Akureyri. There are a number of amazing waterfalls, more historical sights, low level volcanic activity, lots of empty road. And Akureyri, at 20,000, is the second largest “city” in Iceland, so shops, restaurants, a few little museums, people.
Northwestern Fjords. West of Akureyri you’ll find more little fishing villages along the northwestern fjords, plus scenic islands, whale watching, historical sights. Like Eastern Iceland, these sights are detours off Route 1 along the peninsula roads.
Snaefellsnes Peninsula Detour. After the north, Route 1 heads back towards Reykjavik. But doing a turn off along the way gets us to the Snaefellsnes Peninsula. It’s another popular day tour from the city. Plus it has several significant landscape locations (Kirkjufellsfoss, Helnar, Budar church, etc.). Plenty of excellent photo adventures, enough to warrant a couple of days.
The West Fjord area, north of Snaefellsnes on the map above, is the most unspoiled. It is a phenomenal area but is far off the Ring Road that for many, it won’t be worth the extra travel time. That said, Hornstradir National Park is unique and I’ll go at some point just because.
Golden Circle. The Golden Circle is also off the Ring Road, basically north east of the city. Most folks do this area on one of the tours. But it’s also an easy day trip to do on your own in a rental car. And since the Golden Circle is close to Reykjavik, it needs to be done at the beginning or end of the road trip. There are no easy roads over the center of Iceland. It’s mostly high country and home to several glaciers.
A few logistical data points
Planning for a Ring Road self-guided photo tour is a different beast. Consider:
- You’re staying at hotels or BnBs across all of Iceland.
- Accommodations for lodging books up months in advance for many spots — especially for summer travel.
- The best lodgings (quality, price, etc.) go first.
- Route 1, the Ring Road, is 828 miles long. Once you drive outside the Reykjavik metro area, Route 1 becomes a 2 lane blacktop with skinny shoulders.
- If you do the whole thing, you’ll have 2-3 hours of pure drive time on many of the days.
Posted on April 2, 2018
Like all good projects, this Iceland book started from need. I’m not sure where the need came from, maybe (in vague form) from seeing images on some of the better photo sites (500px, viewbug, etc). But over several years, I tracked Iceland as a place worth exploring. So by the time my sis said she was taking her crew there, I already knew the land of ice needed to be high on the photo journey list.
My first week there (and there) last March was what trigged the real need. The vastness of the landscapes, the raw color palette, made me want to stretch myself creatively. But with a couple of books on Utah photography and my travel blogging, I wanted to do more than just work the camera. I thought, why not write a book with several moving parts, sure, coffee table images, but also a personal travel account, a How To for creative exploration, a photographic road trip.
Iceland’s become one of the ultimate destinations for photo enthusiasts. Obviously. Everyone who goes there seems like they’re in photo overdrive. Tourists on the day tours from Reykjavik, the photo enthusiasts (both local and international), the folks doing the Ring Road; they’re all shooting.
That doesn’t mean Iceland is overexposed (sorry). After all, this is a small country with fantastic visual elements. The land is plain in many ways, it’s a cold, volcanic stone in the North Atlantic. But it’s immensely evocative, Nordic myth evocative, Ansel Adams without having to go black and white.
That trip last March, that intense, cold week, gave me glimpses of its possibilities. And I decided that I needed to do an entire portfolio, using Iceland’s Ring Road as a guiding principle for this photographic road trip.
Now, doing a Ring Road book is not a new concept. Look on Amazon, look at Pinterest. But what I have in mind isn’t a Ring Road itinerary book.
The idea is simple, to do a road trip along the Ring Road, photograph as you go, blog the experience — from the germ of the idea to the planning, the photo shoots, people, life leading to a final portfolio and who knows, a gallery show. Capture something fundamental about the place in word as well as image.
And who will care
Shooting Iceland is one of the big ones. Lots of us have done photo tours in Monument Valley, Zion, Yosemite, etc. I love those kind of tours. And you can do a comparable level of photography on Iceland’s South Coast, Golden Circle or Snaefellsnes Peninsula. But why just do a day or two? Iceland’s a whole country with enormous creative challenges — and touring the Ring Road without the tour guide can take one’s work to the next level.
So my idea is to share my shot location research at every step. And, as with my Utah photo / travel books, to get into travel logistic, lighting, composition issues, personal insights. So someone who visits Iceland for a day or a week can use my location research during their stay.
The one thing I don’t want is to write a guidebook. There are plenty of those already. So little or no coverage of hotels or places to eat. Just my thoughts on stuff that will interest enthusiasts and savvy travelers.
Generally photographers avoid giving much detail about their favorite locations or how they work. (As if there are any secret left in a world where 7 billion people have a camera.) It’s better to err on the side of openness. So I talk with enthusiasts a lot, I read the blogs, I look at stuff on social media. The international photo community is a vast resource and fellow enthusiasts are a core element in my creative process.
I also see this project as fulfilling a need. Sure, plenty of folks do Iceland trips and blog about it, or post to Facebook, or tweet or Instagram or Pinterest. Much of it is like: Yeah, we did the trip to the Godafoss waterfall, took this exit off the Ring Road, wandered over from the parking lot, here’s some shots. [Instagram/Facebook/Other] The images can be good but the writing isn’t usually that helpful or that entertaining.
A picture is worth a thousand words… but good writing can evoke a hundred cultural nuances; it can be a good read. That means going beyond the guidebook level writing, sharing useful insights, personal moments. What I’m after is something in the style of Steinecks’ Travels with Charley, or maybe Thoreau on a road trip. (Hey, if I can’t dream big, what’s the point.)
I’m also trying to dream big when it comes to the photography. Most Iceland photos you see on Google or Instagram aren’t great. (I’m being gentle now.) Yes, you’ll see some good shots at a marquee location like Godafoss or Longranger. But take a look at the other Iceland stuff that photog shot. See if they were able to capture the little moment by the side of the road or the vibrancy of the little fishing villages in the early morning. That’s the hard part. That’s where the craft is.
You will see excellent work from Iceland photo pros. The guys (usually) who do $1000 a day tours to the South Coast or Snaefellsnes Peninsula are worth a close look, just do an (Iceland tours) search.
But us tourists shouldn’t expect that level of perfect. As any photo enthusiast knows, when you live in a place, go to those locations week in and week out, you’ll get images a visitor can’t touch.
The first time visitor can’t play that game. And why should they try? If you’re in Iceland for the first time, and you’re there 24×7, you don’t have the ideal conditions you get on a fancy photo tour – where the guide drives you to the marquee location at the perfect time of day and plants you on the sweet spot.
If you’ve been on one of these tours, you know that a good enthusiast can come away with some great portfolio shots, some of them better than what the guide took that day. Hey, even the not-so-good photographer can capture a great image if they’re coached.
On the other hand, if I need handholding, I’m not going to learn as much as I will by doing all the creative groundwork from scratch. Going to a photo location, breathing the place in, following the light, seeing the image as pure composition. … And doing that process day in and day out whether I’m at Glacier Lagoon or some pull-off.
That’s how you take your work to the next level. That’s how an Ansel Adams did it when he wasn’t at Yosemite. Not that I’m Ansel. I’m more interested in developing my own vision anyway.
But that was all the backstory for this Ring Road trip, to develop a portfolio out of my 2 weeks in country and to write about it with the tools that a few decades of professional writing has given me.
God knows, there are Icelandic photographers that could (probably have) put together coffee table books that evoke this pristine country beautifully. But they aren’t professional writers. Their coffee table book generally have artsy text that, let’s be honest, no one reads. I’m after something else entirely.
What I want to do is take the enthusiast on the creative journey I’m going on from initial concept to final portfolio. I want the writing to give the enthusiast photographer all the logistical info, cool shot locations, plus lighting and composition ideas that they’d get on a fancy (i.e. $$$) photo tour.
And at the end I want the photog to see what I made of all that while sharing the tools they need to develop their own take on things. That’s the plan.
Posted on March 6, 2018
Our Pauls Photo DV adventure was slated to begin at lunch on Thursday, so I arrived a day early. I usually start one of these commercial photo tour by arriving a day or two ahead. I use these things as a quick overview to a park, landscape location scouting being a side benie of the detailed site exploration you get on these photo tours. Then, after it’s over, I explore some of those sites more deeply or reach out to spots that never got covered.
With Death Valley, I decided to take one extra day before and one after, giving me an extra evening and morning shoot to check out the location on my own. So on Wed. at 9AM I found myself heading north on the 110 … to Barstow, Baker and beyond….
From LA, Death Valley is kinda on the way to Vegas. You jump on Interstate 15 up around San Berdo, continue on it past Barstow (stopping at the Starbucks that’s just of the road), drive on till Baker. Then off the freeway heading north/west for another couple hours (without forgetting to stop at the Greek in Baker for a filo-and-honey pastry).
On that Wed., I had lunch at the Mad Greek and got my honey and pistachio to go. The Greek place is just on the other side of the highway exit and underpass — right across from the World’s Tallest Thermometer.
Baker is not a stop I ever make on the Vegas trip, the Mad Greek being the only lure. The place exists because the Death Valley Road starts there. But Baker has a bit of a Route 66 feel to it, like a 50s desert town encased in amber. The facade of the Greek restaurant takes that 50s desert attitude and pumps in a dollop of bad Hellenistic statuary — so it’s great fun and the food’s better than most of these road stops. The Greek founders seem long gone (anyone know) but the Latino staff carries on the ancient tradition with style. In fact, they do the food fairly well, considering the eclectic menu. So it’s a fun stop, better than what you usually get restaurants in the desert.
Going north you get a long and straight shot north on Rt. 127, an hour’s drive if you’re a lead-foot. Once you get to Amargosa (and the Amargosa Opera House and Hotel), you have a slower hour on Rt. 190, the park road, that takes you to Furnace Creek.
Furnace Creek is a town I guess. It has a post office, two large national park resorts (both being majorly renovated), the NP Visitors Center, a seriously overpriced gas station, a jeep rental and about 20 actual residents.
I looked the town over and stopped in at the Visitors Center to study the possibilities for an early Thurs. shoot spot. The rangers started things off with the National Park fees. I’d mislaid my Lifetime Pass and they don’t have a database of pass members (time to join the 20th Century maybe) so I got to purchase a new park pass. I wandered back up Rt 190 to shoot Zabriskie Point in the late afternoon light.
That night I got to experience the cuisine available at The Ranch for the first time. It turned out that the usual restaurant choices were in renovation process so Xantera go their sandwiches and burgers made at an unnamed location, rendering my chicken piece cold and tasteless. Luckily Xantera continued to charge NP restaurant prices for their work. I began to wish my motel room had a microwave.
As Mark Comon, long-time leader of the Pauls Photo Death Valley trips points out, you don’t go to DV for the culinary experience.
The Promise of Death Valley
So why do landscape photographers go to DV? Why is there the particular fondness?
Locations. Certainly the locations are a lot of it. Badwater, Zabriskie, Scottys Castle, Mesquite Wells Sand Dunes, Dantes View, Rhyolite (just off the park), and a bunch of road pull-off shots. It has some great locations.
Mystique. Hottest spot on the continent, mining, Wild West, desert live at it’s most forbidding.
Landscape. Landscape, geology, is the foundation of what we do. And without the annoying vegetation, DV manages to show geology in its barest, most stripped down form.
Color. There’s something abut the colors of the place, the pastel colors you get at Zabriskie, the softest creams in the sand at Mesquite. A far different palette than you find up at Zion or Arches. And that allows your work to get at the subtleties.
Death Valley is unique.
Next, finding the point of Zabriskie
Posted on March 6, 2018
I recently did a photo tour to Death Valley put on by Pauls Photo in Torrance. Some random notes:
Death Valley is the largest National Park outside Alaska at 3.4 million acres. That makes it larger than several states and one and a half times larger than Yellowstone.
Where to Photograph. With this much land area, the park is full of locations that are popular with photographers, Dantes View, Zabriskie Point, Mesquite Flats Sand Dunes, Badwater, Darwin Falls, Golden Canyon, Scotty’s Castle (currently closed for renovation). There are also lots of neat photo spots that are just pull-offs from the road. The Devil’s Golf Course, Artist’s Drive, Harmony Borax Works are of less interest for enthusiasts (OK, the park lists them as “must see”) but they’re all close to the center park area if you have time.
There’s also good photo locations just outside the park boundaries. Just east of the park, the Rhyolite Ghost Town has some cool sights. Going northwest, you can stop at the Alabama Hills area (by Lone Pine) and Mt Whitney.
When to Go. There’s a reason no one in their right mind goes to Death Valley in summer, heat. The temperature’s been clocked at 134 degrees. That’s not healthy for humans or for cars. Quoting the park web site, “Outside activity is not recommended at that time of year.” Aside from being able to fry an egg on the hood of your car, what’s the point? Getting your picture taken with a big thermometer at the Visitors Center?
Photographers should plan to visit in winter or early spring. During winter the nights and early morning can be cold. On our late January trip, the temps were almost freezing on a couple of mornings. And at 4,000+ ft and high winds, Dantes View was painfully cold. So bring your long johns and a warm windproof jacket. But things do get warm in midday so layer.
Where We Stayed. Like all National Parks, Death Valley accommodations and restaurant choices are limited by design. That keeps the locations pristine (and the prices high). The facilities within the park have little motel fridges but no microwave. You can find accommodations at Furnace Creek, Stovepipe Wells and Panamint Springs — or you can stay outside the park at Beatty, Pahrump, Lone Pine, etc., and drive a very long way.
Furnace Creek is the obvious place to stay at if your a photographer. It’s the closest location for Dantes View, Badwater, Zabriskie Point, and the other stuff in the central valley. Stovepipe Wells is right next to the Mesquite Sand Dunes.
But this year, The Inn at Furnace Creek is closed for remodeling. The Ranch is also at Furnace and is open but it’s also undergoing major remodeling and as a result the restaurant situation in that area is dismal. They didn’t have a fully operational kitchen so the food they did have was mostly salads, burgers and chicken sandwiches — that had been cooked earlier and were served cold. Pizza was the only meal that was edible.
That situation didn’t stop XANTERRA, the parent company, from charging fancy restaurant prices though, ($15 for a chicken sandwich that Macdonalds does better for $4). Things were so bad we drove the half hour to Stovepipe Wells each night to get a decent (but overpriced) meal. So call ahead if you’re planning on staying at Furnace Creek and think about bringing your own food.
That’s it for now.
Posted on March 4, 2018
Another cool shot from Dan Jurak, a master of understatement.
I have been having fun posting photos on Instagram and Vero lately. There is a whole different group of people than I am familiar with.
Is it the algorithms of Instagram that keep showing me brain smashing, bang me in the face with overblown colours or is that what is current? Seeing photos on there is like steadily increasing the amount of sugar or salt in your diet until you realize that you can’t taste the sweetness or saltiness anymore.
In going through hundreds of old images that I have taken and forgotten about over the years I found this little gem that seemed so opposite of how I see Instagram.
It is about quiet and serenity. It seems so different than what I have been seeing for the past few days that I have posted it simply because it is opposite.
If you want to be successful creatively you…
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