First Hike of Summer 2018

Beginning the Hike

My hike started in the mouth of a canyon where the Rocky Mountains meet Basin and Range. The altitude of the trailhead is around 4700 feet above sea level. It was early afternoon, and the day was warm with mild breezes, and only a few small scattered clouds. Good hikes can be had in a many kinds of weather, but this was particularly good weather for a hike.

A Little Ways up the Trail

This is one of my favorite trails. It's the first mountain canyon I ever hiked in back in 1982 when I first visited this area. The canyon continues to provide good hiking experiences in all seasons. For more pictures of this canyon, you can visit this post from two years ago.

Roots

The lower end of the canyon is more desert-like than other parts of the trail. Every once in a while a small lizard or skink would dart across the trail ahead of me.

Looking Back

The character of the canyon changes as the trail gains altitude. Drier below, it becomes greener higher up. There's a noticeable temperature difference between the lower and upper parts of the trail.

Dense Greenery

Around halfway up the canyon rocky mountain maple and box elder trees crowd the trail. The close foliage can give the impression of being in a forest, but the deciduous thickets only line the narrow bottom of the canyon. Occasional views up through the canopy reveal mostly juniper, cliff rose, and towering evergreen trees standing singly or in scattered stands. Huge cliffs and outcrops dominate the canyon sides.

Looking South Toward Corral Mountain

I reach the top of the canyon trail and take the left fork, heading north. The trail winds through stands of maple trees, then aspen groves. The trail also passes through meadows, providing great views of the surrounding mountains. Summer breezes cause the aspen leaves to whisper and shimmer in the sunlight.

Provo Peak

This section of trail rises a thousand feet, from about 7200 feet to 8200 feet above sea level. I see a few deer scattered throughout this area, their red coats standing out against the forest greenery.

Yet Another Rubber Boa

Just below the 8200' pass I come across what looks like a huge earthworm on the dirt trail. It's a kind of snake called a rubber boa. I've yet to find anyone who knows what I'm talking about when I mention to them about rubber boas. Even avid outdoor hikers I know have never seen nor heard of them, yet I come across rubber boas almost regularly on my summer hikes, and in several of the local canyons. I've posted about them before on this blog. On this hike I gently pick up the rubber boa and move it off the trail lest some unobservant hiker come along and carelessly tread on the snake.

Cascade Mountain

At the pass I turn right onto another trail, heading east. Parts of the trail run through open country, providing great views of towering mountains. If majestic is a term that applies to mountains, how can it ever be applied to mortal kings and queens? I don't care how lavish their palaces, how fancy their carriages, or how dazzling their crowns, mere royalty doesn't measure up to the majesty of these mountains! Silly though it might seem, the grand scenery surrounding the trail occasionally caused me to whisper in awe, simply, "Oh, wow!"

Columbines

This segment of trail travels around the north side of a mountain and passes through large stands of tall evergreen trees. The trees provide cool shade to the forest floor. The understory is only about knee high or so, with abundant white columbine flowers scattered throughout. Red squirrels and woodpeckers are common in these woods.

Provo Peak

The trail crosses a stony ridge at about 8700 feet, and here I stop to eat and rest before heading back. Directly east of this overlook is a mountain which towers to over 11,000 feet in altitude. A gibbous moon rises above the ridge line. The air where I rest is mild, almost cool, and the sunlight feels pleasantly warm on my back.

A Snack Before the Hike Back

Next time I'll bring more food. The packaging on the fig bars I ate tout two servings per package, yet I was still hungry after eating all I had brought. The water bottle was filled with cold water from a spring a mile or so back down the trail, and was so refreshing. After a while it was time to return. A desire to stay tugged at me as I headed back. As I descended the trail, the air grew warmer even as the evening sky became darker. It was almost ten o'clock by the time I reached the trailhead.

Here's another post with pictures from this and another nearby canyon.

Throwback Thursday

Colored Pencil on Paper

This painting goes way back to before I started using oil paints. Probably even before I made any paintings with pastels. It's a studio piece that brings together various experiences I've had on night hikes in the wild. The moon was done using a sketch of a lunar eclipse I made from my back porch in Pennsylvania (back porches can be wilder than you might imagine.) The cliff is based on one I came across in the Wasatch Mountains. The bighorns are based on ones I saw while passing through the Colorado Rockies, and alludes to the many times I've been aware of wildlife not far from me on walks in dark forests and canyons.

Here's some thumbnail sketches I did while working out the composition for this picture:

I wish I had gotten a better photo of it before it was gone. The painting was sold at a gallery that closed years ago. The picture at the top of this post is a digital image of a bad 35mm film photo, heavily edited to try and bring it up to the quality I think I remember in the original piece. It's the best editing I can do, but still falls rather short of the original. Nonetheless I hope there's yet something in the image the reader can find to enjoy. 

Thanks for visiting my blog!

Wasatch Plein Air Paradise 2016

11" x 14" Oil on Panel

It's time for Midway's yearly plein air painting competition. I just turned in my entries for the main competition. The four pictures in this post are of the paintings I did last Saturday, Tuesday, Monday and Wednesday, respectively. The first three are the ones I put into the show. You can find out more about "Wasatch Plein Air Paradise" here. 

11" x 14" Oil on Panel

Sometimes, upon hearing that I'm an outdoor landscape painter, people will comment that it must be a relaxing thing to do. Well, here I am after a few days of painting, tired, sunburned, sweaty, bug bitten, and recovering from back spasms. "Relaxing" might be how the paintings look - and that's good - but it's not likely how they were painted.

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

"Relaxing" isn't the word for it. Sometimes it's not exactly fun, either. But it seems to me there's nothing better than to be outdoors, interacting with the landscape as I paint it, and hoping others might somehow benefit from the experience, too.

9" x 12" Oil on Panel

It's always satisfying to see my paintings framed and hung in galleries, or in shows like WPAP. It's fun to see what wonderful paintings other painters have put into the show, too. The show opens this evening in Midway at 7:00 PM and is free to the public. The show runs through the afternoon of July 4th, but paintings leave as they're sold so it's better to come early rather than late. That way you won't miss anything. There will be paint outs on Friday and Saturday, and a quick paint auction on Monday. I might be able to get one more painting into the show Saturday, depending on my schedule. Hope to see you there!

Half Moon Over Ridge Top Cedars

9" × 12" Oil on Panel 

The last several weeks have been generous with their rainy days. I really didn't feel like going painting earlier this week. However, I determined to get out and paint, rain or shine. I drove up to Bridal Veil Falls, but sat in my car as outside it rained and rained. I gazed out of the rain streaked window and up at the towering cliffs surrounding the falls, turned dreary by the weather.  Or maybe the weather had turned me dreary. Either way, I decided to move on.

A few miles up the canyon is Vivian Park. The weather had improved a little by the time I reached the park, so I thought I might try and paint there. There was a little spot on the ridge above the trout pond that caught my attention, so I set up a pochade box near the parking lot and set to painting. As I painted, the weather cleared just above the ridge I was painting, revealing a quarter moon.

The park was crowded with picknickers and fathers taking their kids fishing. Several people stopped to visit and see what I was painting. I never mind short visits from people as I paint. In fact I generally enjoy their visits. The image above shows the day's efforts from the park.

Merry Christmas 2012

There aren't any recent works of mine Christmasy enough for this post, so I dug deep into the past and pulled out a couple wintry scenes done in colored pencil from when I lived in Pennsylvania. My style is completely different now, but I thought it would be fun to share these with you.

 

Early one winter morning I was up to see the twilight. Looking out I saw the deep blue of sky and snow becoming split by warmer tones near the horizon. Also there was the waning crescent moon anticipating the coming sunrise. I made a sketch and later took photos of the scene. From those I made the drawing above.

On a winter's walk in woods just outside of town I saw the trees in the scene above. Struck by the intricate lacework of the spreading branches and twigs, I got out a sketchbook and recorded my impression of the scene. Although whitetail deer frequent the area, they weren't there when I was. Someone I knew had a few captive whitetails in a fenced area, so I went to visit him. There I sketched the deer and took photos. Later I also studied photo references in library books. From those sketches and photos came the drawing shown above.

 I found the initial tree sketch the finished work is based on:

 



These days I prefer painting plein air, and portraits drawn from life, but would like one day to do some more studio works from references.

Merry Christmas!

Escalante Part II, and a New Exhibit

6" x 8" Oil on Panel

Tonight (Nov. 2, 2012) a new show opens at the Terra Nova Gallery, "Great Things, Small Packages", and runs through the 28th of December. All works are for sale. Two small paintings of mine are in the show; plein air oil paintings I made in the Wasatch Mountains. You're welcome to come see my paintings and check out the rest of the show! Terra Nova is located at 41 West, 300 North in Provo, Utah. They can be reached at 801-374-0016.

But now it's about time I finished writing about this year's Escalante Canyons Art Festival. You can read part 1 here.

After dropping off my entry for the plein air painting competition and spending some time at the artist' reception, I headed off into the desert to find a place to camp for the night. It seems my usual way to find a place to camp in unknown territory is to drive down some dirt road after dark, then find another dirt road and follow that until I come to a likely spot. This night, I found a nice sandy spot amongst the pinion and juniper trees.

Having made camp, I decided on a night hike. The full moon was brilliant, and there was no need for a flashlight, though I kept one handy in my day pack. The dirt track led to a sandy wash which I followed as it meandered through the expansive desert night. Stars near the horizon seemed to bob and weave as the rising desert air distorted their images. The sand gave gently beneath my steps. As I wandered along the desert wash, my mind wandered many other trails; different kinds of trails which frequently intersected and intertwined with the sandy wash somehow. What else is there that can sharpen the senses and open pathways for the mind like a desert night hike?

Before breakfast the next morning I walked back down the dirt track to the wash. There I saw the footprints I had left in the sand the night before. Superimposed over my footprints were small paw prints - tracks of a small coyote or kit fox that had followed my trail.

Later that day I went back into the town of Escalante. There I signed the painting I'd entered into the show, visited with other painters and enjoyed the exhibit. That evening I went to an entirely different part of the Escalante Desert to camp. After driving several miles down another dirt road, I camped on some slickrock. In all the low spots in the slickrock and in the surrounding sand were thousands of moqui marbles. They were also found embedded in the slick rock and nearby cliffs of Navajo Sandstone. I had never seen these iron oxide concretions in the wild before - and they were in such abundance. I honestly - and maybe irreverently - wished I had brought along a slingshot. Those little round iron and sandstone balls would have made perfect ammo! Instead of doing that, I made the painting shown at the top of this post.

That night, under the stars and full moon, I stood on the elephant-hide-textured slickrock and watched the flood of moonlight wash across the Escalante Desert. Some movement several yards away caught my eye. Something large was flitting around near the tops of some pinion pines. As I watched, a large bird with a wingspan of maybe two feet or more flew toward me. It made no sound as it circled me, slightly above and just a few feet away! I turned to face the silhouetted bird as it circled me one and a half times before it departed into the desert night. Just a curious owl?

Cooking Breakfast

Bath Time, Such as it is, in the Escalante Desert.

The next day was spent exploring mesas and trails, and making a couple more paintings, one of which is shown below. Weather began moving in as the day wore on, making painting challenging as the lighting changed from sunny to cloudy and back again, over and over before changing to scattered rain showers. That evening I returned to the Arts Festival and to the happy discovery that my painting had sold. Afterwards was the long drive home, getting there around 1 AM.

6" x 8" Oil on Panel

Mojave Revisited

Mojave Byway  8" x 10" Oil on Panel

Last Weekend I painted in the desert near Littlefield, Arizona. This is the same area I visited last year and wrote about here.

After parking at the same place as last year I crossed the dry wash and explored around the joshua trees looking for a likely subject. Settling on one joshua tree I set to painting. As the painting progressed, the dry desert wind increased making painting difficult. Near the end of this joshua tree painting a paint rag blew from my pochade box. I got careless and stepped away from the pochade box to retrieve the paint rag. That's when a sudden gust of wind took my setup and contemptuously flung it into the dirt! Paint tubes and brushes flew everywhere. The brush washer crashed to the ground spilling all of it's solvent onto the ground and all over everything else. The painting had dirt and sticks stuck to it, extra smears of paint on it and - worst of all - solvent splashed all over it! The painting was destroyed. Why must I re-learn these lessons? After uttering some unkind comments about the situation I picked up everything and cleaned up the mess, which included wiping the wet painting down to the panel.

Being kind of late in the day and with the wind increasing, I really didn't feel like starting a new painting. Loading the painting gear back into the car, I threw on a day pack with extra water in it and hiked down the dry wash. After exploring around a little I found a better place to camp. Later I moved camp to the new spot. I was glad I found the new camping place. There was, after all, a dead cow too close to the earlier camp.

I did manage a small landscape pencil sketch of a joshua tree before sunset. Then I settled in for the night. The day had been hot and the night was warm, so I fell asleep without any need for a blanket. 

Later that night I awoke. There was a slight chill in the air so I grabbed a light blanket. Looking out into the desert night I saw the moon had risen. Silvery light from a waning moon flooded the Mojave Desert near and far, casting a seemingly supernatural glow onto the landscape. Shadows like hydras lay on the ground stretching from the bases of joshua trees, grotesque as if frozen in mid-writhe. It did indeed seem like a place spoken of anciently, where "...wild beasts of the desert shall lie there; and...doleful creatures; and owls shall dwell there, and satyrs shall dance there." (Isaiah 13:21 AKJV) I really wish I could have taken a night hike then. It would have been a wonderful experience. But I had worked hard and hadn't had a full night's sleep in days. I was beyond tired. Because of physical weakness I wouldn't go out and cavort with the owls and satyrs. I rolled over and returned to sleep. They would have to dance without me...this time.

In the morning I awoke while the sun was still behind the eastern mountains. By the time I drove away the sun was well up. The morning breezes were gentle and the lighting to the west caught my attention as I drove down a dirt road, so I stopped and made the painting shown at the very top of this post. It was painted on the panel that had been wiped the day before. As this morning's painting progressed the winds began again to pick up and become feisty. Near the end of this plein air session I heard a noise behind me. I turned and watched as a dust devil passed about a hundred feet from me. If it had hit me it would have destroyed the morning's work. That provided motivation to quickly finish the painting and pack everything into the car. From there I drove to some red rock near St. George, Utah, where I hiked and did another painting. Maybe that'll be the subject of another post.

Lunar Plein Air Studies

Small Sketches in a Small Sketchbook

Here are a couple studies I made during a lunar eclipse. It was sketched in colored pencil on an August night in 1989 when I lived in Pennsylvania. To make this sketch I would go into the back yard and observe the eclipse for a while, then rush through the back door into the kitchen where I had my sketchpad and colored pencils. With the kitchen lights on to see what I was doing, I would sketch as much as memory would permit, then go back out into the darkness to observe the eclipse more. I did this several times over the course of these two little studies. Observe - sketch - repeat. The top image is totality. The lower sketch is about 45 minutes later. I wasn't concerned with the lunar montes, mares or craters. That information could be easily had another time. The goal of these studies was to capture the color of the event and the spherical appearance of the eclipsed moon. The full moon usually looks more disk-like to me, but during an eclipse, it appears as an orange ball. This is information I can use in any future studio works that might need it. In fact, I did a larger colored pencil drawing of a night scene of bighorns, jagged rocky cliffs, and the moon back lighting part of the scene using these studies. That drawing sold several years ago, and unfortunately I have no pictures of it. I do have ideas for future works with the lunar eclipse theme, though.

Of course, a lunar eclipse is a fascinating thing to observe whether you're sketching one or not, so go see one!