April 2018 Adventure - The Oregon Coast

Ok, this was actually our third adventure in April but I didn’t figure that the Japanese Garden trip would be the only one last month, and I liked the Juniper for a Day title so much I didn’t want to ruin it with the “Adventure” label, so here we are bestowing that title on our trip to the coast!  Trip #3 for the month!  Given that our initial thought had been to go there before the weather has us look eastward to the Painted Hills, I guess it’s appropriate we held off on the designation.

We weren’t so sure we’d make it out because, yet again, the forecast wasn’t looking so good for the weekend on the days leading up to it.  But we decided to head out anyway because the tides were excellent - as low and as high as I think we’ve ever had them.  And, for the most part, the weather cooperated with us.  We headed out early Friday afternoon and took our time getting to Seal Rock where we were staying.  After confirming our reservation, we went scouting and, given we hadn’t been here for a year, decided that we’d make it easy on ourselves and spend the first morning on the beach we could hike down to from the campground.  

The next morning was our usual get up early, make coffee and breakfast and get out to photograph in the pre-dawn light routine.  It was pretty heavily overcast so we knew we wouldn’t get anything with the nautical sunrise (around 5-ish) and made it down to the beach a bit before the civil sunrise around 5:30.  And we timed it right.

The reason for the extreme tides is that it was the morning of a full moon, so the moon was setting in the west, the direction we’d be photographing in, and tugging the ocean in its direction.  As we got to the beach and put on our overboots (and took off a couple of layers - it was much warmer than we’d expected), the clouds decided to break up for us.  Without going any farther I pulled out my camera and started shooting.

Lucky I did, because the moon breaking through the clouds only lasted a few minutes.  By the time I recomposed for another image, the moon had dropped down behind the clouds and wasn’t coming back.

We stayed at the edge of the beach for a bit, working to get the first few images of the day.  I switched over to the square format I’ve been working with lately as the pre-dawn light started increasing in intensity. 

I was to stick with the square format for the most part this weekend.  I’m surprised how comfortable I’ve become with it.  Still, sometimes it’s a shock when I’m looking at a scene, I think I know what I want, and then plop a square on it only to see things anew. 

Other times I see things and know that they’ll really only work in a square.

The clouds that morning were pretty interesting in that the conditions seemed to be constantly changing.  Sometimes the light seemed to give an eerie, gloomy feeling, other times things brightened up.  

And then the sun came out and, as is the case, everything changes yet again.  Still, the broken cloud pattern and the low-lying sun could change the feel of the place in a matter of moments.  From bright and warm . . .

to cold and foreboding in a matter of minutes.

In one particularly long cloudy stretch, I made my way over to a part of the shoreline where a bright patch of green had caught my eye.

I spent some time making a range of images there before I headed back towards Ann.  On the way over to her, I stopped to make some images of a stretch of ocean and sky between a set of sea-stacks.  And while I made several square images . . .

I changed the framing on the camera so I could go vertical.  I think the vertical is stronger, but that’s perhaps because of how frequently the conditions were changing - the light, clouds, wave patterns - everything was in constant motion.  To include the disappearing rock.

I eventually made my way over to Ann where I was greeted with Seal Rock looking as interesting as I’ve ever seen it.  It’s usually such a large mass that I have a hard time incorporating it effectively into an image.

Ann had spent the entire time around a cluster of rocks and, once I’d gotten there I realized why.  They afforded a wonderful range of foregrounds for image making.

For once, I decided to not try to slow the water down in the photographs, in part to capture some of the textures on the water surface that would otherwise get lost with longer exposures, and in part because I was so fixated on the rock formations.

The possibilities seemed endless, so long as your creativity and focus could keep up with what the rock formations and ever-changing conditions offered you.

We eventually made our way towards Seal Rock, where a couple of gulls were waiting for us. Sometimes you’ve just got to grab the photograph that’s there.  If you look carefully at the various curves . . .

We photographed there for a bit, but after more than three hours of intensive photographing, Ann and I were exhausted and started the hike back to the campground.

After taking a bit of time to recover (and brew a fresh pot of coffee), we decided to take a mid-day trip to Ono Beach, as much for scouting purposes as anything else (or so we thought).  

We timed things so we would arrive a few minutes after high tide so, if anything, the tide would be receding as we hiked out to where the interesting rocks are.  Our previous trip had been on a cloudy morning during a low tide and the place seemed very different. Not only was everything brighter, the taller feature that we had photographed previously was well-out into the water.  What that led us to, though, were the up-shore rock formations that we’d passed by last time since we followed the water’s edge on that trip (hiking on hard, wet sand is a lot easier than through dry sand, especially when you’re already tired).  And for me, well, it became a field day.

I only made one image that can remotely be called a landscape.  For the most part, that meant my back was turned to the ocean, looking downward.  However, given that it was close to high tide, it also meant that I had to keep my ears out for any particularly large sounding wave rushing up behind me . . . or wait for the all too frequent, “Dan, wave!” from Ann (thanks Ann).  

I can’t tell you how many times I’d set up my framing, only to have to grab the tripod and haul my butt past the rocks to higher ground.  More times than not, the wave left gobs of foam by my subject or moved interesting rocks that had been framed.  Both led me to walk away from multiple images.

Still, being there made me miss my 4x5 and the precision it gave in composing images like these.

There is simply a wealth of subject matter to work with at Ono Beach . . . so long as you’re not thinking traditional landscape imagery.

Ann and I have fallen into that common photographic practice of photographing early in the morning and very late in the day, and leaving our cameras packed away during the more intense mid-day sun.  This trip to Ono Beach was a good reminder that there is much to be had even in bright, contrasty, mid-day sun conditions if you accept the conditions for what they are and look for the types of photographs those conditions offer you.  They’re out there, but it’s a lot more difficult to see them.    

Eventually I did make a “landscape” image, but again, only a minimalist one!

Ann and I were wiped and decided we didn’t have it in us to hang around for the next three plus hours as the tide worked its way to low tide, so we headed back for a late lunch/early dinner to get ready for the evening’s shoot.  

That didn’t happen.  Even though we’d cleaned our lenses and filters and were ready to go, the clouds you see in the image above kept growing and by evening time, had killed the light.  So we did a bit more scouting, driving about to check out future locations.

The next morning was a bust as well.  Despite the forecast having said that rain wasn’t coming until Sunday evening, we woke up at 3 to the sound of light rain (it was the alarm clock that actually woke us up).  We got up early because the plan was to hike down to the other side of Seal Rock, a longer hike, and we wanted to be there at first light again.  The light rain didn’t bug us because that frequently happens at the coast - it’s more of a mist-rain that stops as the morning approaches.  No worries, or so we thought.

But it didn’t stop.  At times it got pretty harsh.  Still undeterred, we made coffee and breakfast, closed things up, and headed over to the Seal Rock parking area.  Still rainy.  So we sat and waited for awhile, checking our weather app to see what it had to say.  The forecast kept changing.  The broader time-line said the rain would stop (actually, it never showed rain starting up).  However, the immediate forecast kept changing.  “Rain stopping within the hour” and showing the rain tapering off. 30 minutes later “Rain stopping within the hour” with less tapering off.  30 minutes later, “Rain stopping within the hour” with no tapering off.  

By 5:45, the rain was coming down hard and the clouds showed no signs of breaking up.  It’s one thing to work in a mist, or in the periodic shower.  Or even to get caught in a downpour.  It’s another thing to start out in the rain.  We called it a trip.  You can’t say we didn’t try - we were ready and out there!  The weather just didn’t cooperate. 

The drive along the coast confirmed our decision as correct.  Sure, there was the periodic break in the rain, but when it came down, it was coming down hard.  Still, we took advantage of our day of photographing and can’t complain about the results.  

Now to figure out May’s trip!