A blog about my third life in Dublin, Ireland, after growing up in Switzerland and living in the USA for 22 years. And now a fourth life in Forest Grove, Oregon.
Hello, as you can see the four of us spent Christmas together this year. With Anika living in Brighton and James in Austin, and us in Ireland for a while, this has not happened for a few years now. Christmas weather in the Portland area is usually not spectacular. Instead of watching the heavy clouds and rain here, we unpacked our presents in the morning and headed for the coast in the afternoon to watch the rain there falling into the Ocean.
Venus on Christmas
We got to the house we rented just South of Newport just in time for the sunset and a pretty clear view of the night sky. Our neighbor had some bright porch lights on and the humidity was very high. Also, this is not the season to take Milky Way pictures, but I had to try anyway since it is seldom that we get clear nights here.
Winter Milky Way and Andromeda in the upper left
The next day we visited the Yaquina Bay and Yaquina Head lighthouses and saw some of the animals in the natural area there. Some of the pictures turned out OK. You can see all of them in my Flickr album for this trip.
Yaquina Bay lighthouse
Yaquina Head lighthouse
A bald eagle watching the visitors to Yquina Head lighthouse
I had my 300 mm lens with me to capture the eagle above. In hindsight, I should have gone back to the car and get the 500 mm lens. We also saw some seals down at the pebble beach, but no gray whales, even though this is supposed to be whale watch week. Other than the good day we had right after Christmas, visibility was pretty bad and the waves were huge with sneaker waves warnings in effect. No gray whales for us. James thought it was a scam to attract tourists to the coast during Winter months ;-)
We did get a decent sunset, though, on the day after Christmas.
Sunset with Yaquina Head lighthouse in the background
We now have seen all lighthouses on the central and Northern Oregon coast. There are a few more in the South we need to visit. I have a good picture of Heceta lighthouse from our Florence trip in August, but have not had time to post thos pictures yet. Stay tuned!
A couple of times a year, the full moon rises right behind Mt. Hood. There are some beautiful pictures of that event online and I have tried several times so far to capture it. A really nice spot to take this picture from is Jonsrud Viewpoint in Sandy, Oregon. It is a tiny little spot on top of a bluff right above the Sandy river with an unobstructed view of Mt. Hood. If the weather cooperates. And often it does not.
The view from Jonsrud Viewpoint, Sandy river below, and Mt. Hood on the horizon.
Clearoutside.com had predicted a cloudless sky for last Friday and I made the two-hour drive through rush-hour traffic. Due to moon rise timing over Mt. Hood, it is always rush-hour when I try to take this picture. When I got there a woman told me that it had been perfectly clear until about a half hour ago when the haze you see at the base of Mt. Hood in the picture above moved in. It took almost twenty minutes for the moon to clear that haze and rise above it.
Full moon near Mt. Hood
I got some nice Fall colors and the moon looks cool, but Mt. Hood is barely visible. The whole idea is to wait for a day when the moon rises near that position but the sun has not set yet and is still lighting up the face of Mt. Hood. That requires good weather around Mt. Hood but also behind me so the setting sun is not obscured. Those conditions are difficult to align. I had tried last month too, but about an hour before moon rise, lots of clouds moved in. By the time the moon became visible, it was almost completely dark.
These clouds were not there an hour earlier during my attempt in September.
The peak of Mt. Hood is about 30 miles from Jonsrud Viewpoint and 50 miles from Pittock Mansion, another nice spot to see the mountain from Portland. On many days, Oregon weather hides the mountain completely. This happened to me September last year when I tried from Pittock Mansion. The following day the moon was rising after sunset and I went to Jonsrud again, hoping for better weather. The weather worked out, but the timing was a day off.
A photoshopped version from last year
Once it gets dark, Mt. Hood is no longer lit up and the moon appears much brighter, making it difficult to photograph the scene. The above picture is stitched together from multiple images from that evening. I made the moon bigger to overcome my disappointment.
Whenever the full moon rise aligns with Mt. Hood like that, and the weather is not horrible, you will find fellow photographers at Jonsrud and Pittock mansion, trying to get that perfect picture. Twice now, somebody held a class there and I overheard people talking from where they had come from to learn and to take pictures of Portland and surroundings. Compared to them, my two-hour drive is nothing, but I am getting tired of doing it. But I'll probably try again ;-)
It's been a busy two months: I visited four continents! Three more to go and, of course, I have only seen a fraction of the ones I have set foot on. In May I was in Tokyo on business but was able to spend a weekend in Kyoto. Lee Ann and I spent Memorial day weekend at Crater Lake (I live on that continent, but it was a trip, so it counts!) In the middle of June it was off to the PASC conference in Zurich and a customer visit in Paris. I left early so I could visit Anika in Brighton and stopped in Bern before taking the train to Paris. Finally, at the end of June, a week in Chile to see the total solar eclipse. All these trips were fun, but the most exciting was the eclipse trip.
Total eclipse near Vicuna, Chile. Venus at the horizon, Tololo observatory to the left.
Chile was a chaotic trip. I arrived first on Saturday and drove from Santiago to La Serena, five hours further North. La Serena is at the foot of the Elqui valley and right in the path of July 2nd eclipse. I had booked a large apartment there many months in advance. It was expected that 350,000 solar eclipse chaser would visit the region in that week. And, indeed, the airport arrival area was full of tour group operators holding signs for Sky & Telescope groups and the like. In La Serena they sold eclipse ice cream and street vendors hopped in front of stopped cars to hawk eclipse glasses.
Eclipse Ice Cream!
Through booking.com I had GPS coordinates and an address in La Serena for where the maisonette I had booked was supposed to be. The coordinates were wrong and the address did not exist! In the airport I had bought a data SIM, so I had internet access, but communication with the owner was not easy. We did not speak each others languages and used google translate to bridge the gap. I spent hours talking to people, with hands and feet, trying to find the place. All of them were super friendly. Even when they couldn't help, they encouraged me to come back for more help if I was still unsuccessful.
In the end, I ended up at an apartment five miles North of La Serena. The owner had switched us to a different place without ever letting me know. The explanation was "there was a problem with the maisonette."
It had a beautiful view of the Pacific, not enough space heaters, one less room and bathroom than I had prepaid for, no WiFi, and only occasionally warm water. And only one key for seven people. On Sunday, the rest of the crew arrived: Stacy, Mark, Jill, her daughter Emmalyn, and Kieran and Matt. We all saw the eclipse, but Emmalyn got sick and Jill took her home the day after. Kieran also had to go home early because of his grandfather's health condition.
Heavy traffic heading back to Santiago
We had three cars and left La Serena on Wednesday at different times. I waited until almost lunch time and paid a price. EVERYBODY was heading back to Santiago that day. The eclipse the day before was just before sunset, so most people waited until Wednesday to leave the area. It was late at night before I arrived at Concon where Stacy had rented an house. This one was cold too, but much easier to find. By Thursday it was just Stacy, Mark, and me, and we had the whole house to ourselves until Sunday when we went back home.
Street art in Valparaiso
We spent the second half of the week in the colorful city of Valparaiso. In the summer; i.e, not in July, this is a big tourist destination. In the winter it is still busy, but probably less claustrophobic. It was a nice relaxing end to our week in Chile.
You may remember that for my first solar eclipse I made several scouting trips into the path to find a good spot. This time I only had Sunday and the morning of the eclipse to do that. What I wanted, was something along the lines of the picture below. What I got, is the picture further above. I'm happy with that, but with just a little bit better planning, and fewer apartment troubles, it might have been even better.
The picture I really wanted (this one is photoshopped)
The Elqui valley is famous for all the astronomical telescopes on various mountain tops. On Sunday I had found a spot where I could get the telescope and the eclipsed sun into the same frame. But, the distance between the two meant I had to zoom out to 24 mm on my lens and everything would be quite small.
Along route D-445 South of Vicuna, near a hill called Portezuelo Las Tres Cruces, is a spot where I had hoped all the angles would align. The terrain option in Google maps is useful and there are other sites that show you whether the sun is behind a mountain at a given time of day. Crucial information in the Andes with their steep valleys.
People, miles from civilization, getting ready for the eclipse
I was not the only one with that idea and information. To make sure the Cerro Tololo Observatory would be visible, I climbed the hill in the picture above. There isn't really a path, it is steep, and most of it is loose rock. And no telescope in sight at the top, but another hill, which I also climbed. By now I was an hour away from the car, and all my equipment was down there. I had left it, for a "quick" scouting hike.
The video above, from the highest point I reached, shows my surroundings. No Tololo, but another hill in sight of line to the telescope. At that point I thought I would head back to the car, get my gear, come back up here and climb the next hill. That's when I met another eclipse chaser, from Hungary, this was his sixth eclipse, who had the same idea. He said he would rush up the next hill to have a peek and he would let me know when he came down to the parking lot to get his camera equipment as well.
The way down was difficult. Climbing that mountain was an exercise, going down required thinking and careful stepping. There was no path and going down looks a lot different than going up. I got "lost" a couple of times and had to retrace my steps because there was no way down. Even without weight on my back, I kept slipping on the loose rocks. At that point I decided that I did not have time to get my equipment and come back up. Plus, going down after the eclipse with 30 pounds of camera gear on that terrain was way too dangerous for me. Two cameras, three tripods, two cell phones with different apps and sensors, lenses, an equatorial mount, counter weights for the mount, water, flashlight in case I got stuck, etc. I had come well equipped for the eclipse. Not so much for taking it all with me on a long hike up a steep hill.
Scouting for a place to photograph the eclipse
My new Hungarian friend was disappointed when he caught up with me a little later. He had still not seen the Tololo but he had hoped I would climb back up with him anyway since his girlfriend down in the car was not comfortable with him alone up in these mountains.
The Cerro Tololo Observatory
I drove back a ways from where I had come. There was a nice spot to see the eclipse and the observatory. Just not very close together, and I had to use a wide angle lens. The telephoto lens on my second camera did OK, but again, not quite what I was hoping for. I got a couple of nice diamond rings (Bayli's beads) and solar flares, but not the long streamers I have hoped for. Good thing the next total solar eclipse will happen soon!
Bayli's beads
Solar flares
Originally I had planned for some night sky photography in the Andes, but I never had time for that. Stacy and I did see the Southern Cross, but it was from Valparaiso under a light polluted sky.
My solar eclipse and Valparaiso pictures are here.
The Southern Cross (click on the picture to see it)
Lee Ann and I spent Memorial Day weekend at Crater Lake. This year I reserved three nights to give us a better chance for at least one day with good weather and make the whole thing a little more relaxing. And, as planned, the first two days were pretty bad ;-) Still got a few good shots with dramatic clouds and then on the third day the sky cleared up for these pictures:
I liked the first one so much that I had it printed on a 30"x20" sheet that now hangs on one of our walls.
Japan was fascinating as always. This time I got to venture outside the city limits of Tokyo. After the meeting with RIKEN in Tokyo, I stayed the weekend and took the Shinkansen to Kyoto, the old capital of Japan. The train goes by the foot of Mt. Fuji, but both times going and coming back betwen Tokyo and Kyoto, the weather was bad and I could hardly see the mountain. Plus, it was not easy to take a picture with the landscape zooming by so fast. Most of them have a blurry electric pole or something in the foreground.
This year the Sandia, Oak Ridge, Swiss (SOS) workshop was held in Asheville, North Carolina. We were there three years ago at the Biltmore, but this time we got to stay at the (also) historic Grove Park Inn. I had some time one evening to wander around the estate and took a few sunset and nighttime shots. You can view all pictures on Flickr.
Sunset at the bottom of the Grove Park Inn
The Grove Park Inn from below
Getting there from the Northwest corner of the US is not simple. I flew into Atlanta because I could not find good flights in and out of Charlotte. The drive was a little longer but I had a chance to see Danette, John, Nicolas, and Elizabeth.
Before the SOS workshop I got to attend the ADAC workshop at Oak Ridge National Laboratory. Despite working with them for years, I never actually visited there. It was quite interesting. In order to get a badge and approval to move around unescorted, I had to take a short training course. Basically, read and obey the signs, be courteous and don't discriminate, and use common sense. In return, the lab tries to keep the radiation levels within reasonable limits ;-)
An abandoned structure on the grounds of the Grove Park Inn
Both workshops were quite interesting but the best part was visiting with old friends and colleagues. I got to have dinner with Barney and Linda in Knoxville and then spend evenings with Kevin, Kurt, and many other Sandia and Swiss folks.
One afternoon Barney drove us to the top of Mt. Mitchel, the highest point in the US, East of the Mississippi.
Impressive that there isn't anything higher for many hundred miles
We were hoping for those famous Smokey Mountain views, but it wasn't quite happening
On the last day, after the workshop was over, I drove up again in hopes of capturing a nice sunset. That didn't quite work either, but it turned out better than I thought when I was driving back down at night. Another photographer I met up there was also disappointed and didn't think any of his shots were for the keepers portfolio.
Sunset on Mt. Mitchel
On the drive back to Atlanta on Saturday I got stuck in traffic several times due to accidents. I almost missed my plane. The first attendant wouldn't let me check my bag because it took me a couple of minutes to get the app on my phone to produce the boarding pass. She could have looked me up by name, but instead told me that I'm too late and had to speak to customer service. Thankfully, that line was short and the person helping me there was much nicer and competent. Both my bag and I are back home for a while. Next trip will be to Japan in May!
Anika is visiting for Christmas and we went into Portland yesterday to do shopping and taking some pictures. We ended up at the Tilikum bridge near the OMSI because I had seen it lit up in color and was hoping to catch that with a deep dark blue sky right after sunset.
Full moon over Tilikum bridge
We got lucky in that the full moon rose over the bridge as we were getting coffee to fight the cold and the sky had cleared for the spectacle. People were outside watching and the barista asked us whether we had seen the moon. Their manager had told them to all go out for a moment and see it.
View of Portland from the East bank of the Willamette
We were less lucky with the color display. It did not come on. Today, I learned that the colors depend on the mood of the river. The aesthetic lighting is controlled by a program that takes as input the depth, flow rate, and temperature of the water below the bridge. Kinda cool except when you want to see colorful lights and the river is not in the mood for it.
Speaking of bad luck, today we wanted to hike up to Saddle Mountain, but it is raining.
All my Tilikum bridge pictures are on flickr.
Watching the sunset from the top of Saddle Mountain
Almost a year since my last blog post! I have been wanting to write and have a ton of pictures, but it seems I never find the time. So, finally, lets get going again with a trip report from yesterday.
Ever since Lee Ann and I have been to Crater Lake at the beginning of Summer and I got to see a very dark sky with lots of stars, I have been looking for a place to do that without having to drive five hours. I want to take one of those gorgeous, colorful Milky Way pictures every photographer but me seems to have taken.
Looking South
Oregon is difficult for sky watchers. Even when it doesn't rain, the air is seldom very clear; at least not where we are. Further inland or higher altitude is the solution. Looking at the map on darksitefinder.com and trying to find a little bit of altitude led me to Saddle Mountain. With Mack and Val we did an exploratory trip a couple of weeks ago just to see what it is like and how long it takes to get there. We had dinner at the quirky Camp 18 Restaurant and then went a 1/4 mile along the Saddle Mountain trail up to the Mount Humbug lookout to see the sun set. There was not much to see: We were in the middle of a cloud. Since then, I have been wanting to go back and see the view from 1,500 feet higher up.
After sunset looking toward the lower peak with the saddle just below
The weather was iffy. Most sites said "mostly cloudy" and all agreed that it would rain today. It's sunny here, as I write this... When I got to the top it was enveloped in cloud, but after about ten minutes the cloud we were in moved on and we were greeted with the sight in the top picture. It was windy and cold, but the wind helped move the lower clouds around. Sometimes there was nothing to see at all, and at times it opened up and we were treated to a landscape with clouds moving between and over the hills of the Oregon Coastal Range.
A cloud moving past
Because it was evening, I encountered mostly people coming back down. There were three girls, I guess young women is the correct term, who also started at the same time I did. I wanted to make sure I was at the top long before sunset and I didn't want to listen to their constant chatter, so I pushed myself a little bit to get ahead of them. Actually, the chatter wasn't constant. When we hit steeper terrain, it would stop momentarily to pick up again when they reached another flat part. After a while I had increased the distance between us enough so I couldn't hear them at all. I'm proud to say that I beat them by 40 minutes to the top. (It took me an hour and fifteen.) I was soaked in sweat when I got to the top, but happy that I was faster than the three women whose combined age is probably about the same as mine.
Later, after everyone else had left the mountain, I found out why they might have been slower. They had brought big backpacks, unpacked hammocks and prepared to spend the night on the mountain top. They asked me to take their picture while laying in the hammocks and eating their sandwiches. They probably saw a beautiful sunrise this morning!
Click on the pictures to see a larger version
As it was getting dark, I started my trip down. Not far below the summit I slipped, fell, and twisted my ankle. As I was lying there, I was wondering how rescue would come and get me on this remote spot. (And how much it might cost!) There is no cell phone reception at the trail head and most of the trail, but it works on the top. So, at least, I could have called for help, but it was not necessary. I was limping and every time I put weight on my left foot it hurt, but I could walk.
Going down in the dark on a fairly difficult trail, trying not to hurt my foot even more, was quite a challenge. I got lost once and had to retrace back up the hill, slipped a bunch of times, hurt my ankle a couple more times, and took longer to get down than up. Right now, safely back home, I have trouble walking and it is swollen big time, but I'm confident it will heal again in a week or so.
I slipped and fell a little bit further down this trail
There were several reasons for this hike: Get some exercise, see a nice sunset, figure out how long it takes to get to the top, learn how difficult it is to come down in the dark (for when I'll go up there to take Milky Way pictures), and whether I should get new hiking shoes. The last one is a definite Yes.
The trail was wet in some places from the clouds swallowing and regurgitating the mountain, has lots of loose rocks and debris, and it is quite steep in places. Better gripping shoes and more ankle support would have been nice.
Trekking poles would have been very nice on the way down as well. Due to my left eye not really seeing much, my depth perception is basically non-existent. That's why I don't play ball or any other sport with fast moving objects.
Hiking down, with the trail illuminated by my flashlights, it was difficult for me to judge how steep some steps would be. Not wanting to pounce on my left food helped intensify the adventure.
On a clear day you can see the Pacific, the Columbia, Rainier, St. Hellens, and Hood from this spot. And, presumably, lots of stars at night. After my foot heals and clear weather is predicted, I'll go have a look!
Light is, of course, the most important thing in photography. Chasing light and the right conditions is a never ending task for photographers of any skill. Celestial events like the Supermoon early in December prompt people like me to head out trying to catch the perfect scene.
I struggled with a Supermoon before in Ireland. The moon is surprisingly difficult to photograph. Just aiming your camera at the moon and getting a decent picture is easy. It is so bright that the camera can easily adjust. It is even easier when your brother-in-law lets you borrow his 150mm - 600mm lens and a teleconverter to get a nice close-up ;-)
Clouds moving in across a highly magnified moon
Taking a landscape picture at full moon is also not that difficult. The picture at the top is an example. I lucked out with the fog and am glad that one worked out because all of my Supemoon pictures from that night did not. Getting the landscape and the moon as anything other than a glowing orb into the same picture is hard. Even HDR struggles with that.
Running around and waiting for clouds and fog to move just right brought, along with very cold toes, some other delights. Not far from where we live, a neighbor has setup an extraordinary Christmas light show. When I drove by the first time, I thought someone really had gone to town with the blinking lights visible literally from a mile away. Then Lee Ann saw a post on Facebook that recommended to turn on your car radio: The blinking lights are synchronized to music!
It is very well done and quite artistic and imaginative. I have spent several evenings down there so far, trying to capture it just right. I din't want it to be pitch black with just the lights coming on, although that does look cool. I asked Darin who installed and programmed it, to turn it on earlier in the day. I was hoping more ambient light would make it easier for my camera to capture the show.
The problem is now there is too much light. At least at the start. As the sun sets, the contrast gets better and the sky light is less distracting. But now my camera is trying enhance the scene and make up for the lack of light. Learning more about shooting video, especially at night, and turning more things to manual helps. One evening was very overcast and that actually helped to keep the ambient light at a more even level:
And one more:
January 1st will be a full moon. We'll be out of state, but I hope that just before or after (if the display stays up that long) the weather will clear. I imagine that a full moon, especially with snow on the ground, might provide just the kind of light I envision.
There are other impressive Christmas displays in our neighborhood. I took the one below two years ago, but it looks puny to what seems to be standard this year.
At our house we have a few icicles and a small tree with lights that come on when the timer does what it is supposed to do, which seems to be every third night or so. Lee Ann had big plans to decorate the tree in our side yard, but it is so tall I can't reach the top, even with the ladder fully extended. So, we're not even in the competition. Our street alone has much grandioser displays, but there are other areas in Forest Grove that put our whole street to shame.
Since we cannot compete with artificial lights, I went back out a couple of nights after the full Supermoon. Since now the fog had gone, I needed to think of something else. You can see the neighborhood where we live from across Gales Creek Valley and The Photographer's Ephemeris told me that the moon would come up, nearly full, right behind the hill we live on, I went and took the picture below.
The neighborhood we live in from across Gales Creek Valey
Sort of. It's actually a composite of two pictures. One of the moon where houses are in complete darkness, and another of the houses with the glaring-like-the-sun moon cut out.
