A Wild(life) Year in Photography!

A Wild(life) Year in Photography!

Me and the Roaming Bison in Colorado.  Photo by Eric Peffer.

It has been been a wild year for me, in many aspects.  One of those areas that continues to make my head swirl, is the amazing desert I live in and the wildlife I have had the opportunity to spend some quality time with.  

Most of the photos are from my home base in Catalina, Arizona, although photo adventures to Colorado and New Mexico have added some new animals and geography to my photo line up.

Part of the large herd of elk in Colorado (approximately 150)

I have a number of things in my favor:
1.  An eye for things that are 'wild'
2.  a 70-300 lens
3.  Many of my photo adventures are with a wildlife biologist.
4.  I run in an a desert area where I see maybe 1 person a month.  More of a true desert setting. 

5.  Just plain luck

Family of 4 Bobcats in the neighborhood

Many of my photos are taken during my daily runs through the desert.  I typically run near sunset, which I feel is a better time to see animals plus it puts me on the highest road in our area to capture stunning sunsets.  The runs limit my camera options but I have had good success with a decent point and shoot camera (Samsung WB350F).  The Samsung is sporting a 42x zoom.  Oh yeah!

One of the four bobcats (family) in the neighborhood

My goal, when possible, is to take film along with photos.  I may put together a film blog for this year.  

I think back to last year and I did not get much in the way of wildlife photos while this year has been phenomenal.  Looking toward 2016. 

Wild horses near Fort Garland, CO

Enjoy the photos! 

When I grab my camera, I aim to get photos and video.  Check out the videos on my latest blog:  A Wild(life) Year in Video!

Wild horse near Fort Garland, CO

Bighorn Sheep - Taos, NM

Redtail Hawk - Klondyke, AZ

Not totally 'wild' but a wild setting - near La Veta, Colorado

 Rattlesnake on one of my runs - Catalina, AZ

 Roadrunner near the house - Catalina, AZ

At the house

A Javelina visit during a run - Catalina, AZ

Horned Lizard during a run - Catalina, AZ

Young Desert Tortoise - Catalina, AZ

Walking Stick, almost stepped on and bypassed - Catalina, AZ

Tarantula visit on a run - Catalina, AZ

Tarantula on one of my runs

Gila Monster at the house - Catalina, AZ

Family of 4 Bobcats in the neighborhood - Catalina, AZ

Bobcat photo published in a local paper

Young Desert Tortoise on a desert run - Catalina, AZ

A brief stop during the Race Across America as wild horses cross the road in Utah

During the Race Across America - Pagosa Springs, CO

Praying Mantis, Lori & Eric in Klondyke, AZ

The Klondyke Cold Rush

The Klondyke Cold Rush

Off the heavily traveled Interstate 10, Aravaipa Road weaves through gently rolling prairie, skirting the towering Mount Graham, at 10,720 feet, the tallest peak in the Pinaleno Mountains and the majestic Santa Teresa Mountains.

Start of the Aravaipa Canyon trek

It was a lengthy four hour drive to reach the little hamlet of Klondyke, which boasts a population of five.  About 35 miles were dirt, although road conditions were much better than anticipated.  The road ends at the eastern entry of spectacular Aravaipa Canyon, within the supremely rugged Galiuro Mountains, a rough and remote place that was the home of Arizona's last wild wolves before the reintroduction program of the late 1990's. 

Our goal was for Eric, Lori and I to pitch tents at the start of the trek and spend the next two days exploring the spectacular setting that Aravaipa Canyon Wilderness offers.  This section of the canyon was purchased by the Nature Conservancy to help save an area that is considerably more lush and beautiful than the surroundings.  Little does one realize the crazy circumstances that are involved in this ten mile hike (mainly in the creek).  While the west entrance is only 50 miles from our homes, the east entrance drive is 200 miles away.  These miles and the 4 hour drive will jump out later in the story.

Video of the last section of road to Aravaipa Canyon East.  

Road to Aravaipa Canyon East (last section)

Entertaining a visitor at the old Klondyke School

The sun had slid behind the towering cliffs of the dramatic canyon.  We exited from the Peffer family taxi (Eric's folks), grabbed the seriously overweight backpacks (did someone throw rocks in my pack?), threw on our headlights and began our search for a campsite.  None being found, with looming darkness and threatening skies, we strolled back to the parking lot.  Flat, close to a toilet and no time for a crises.  It was perfect, for the moment.  

The rain began to fall and buckets of the liquid sunshine were pounding us as we scurried to set up shelter.  I had 'planned' to practice setting up a tent that I had not used in many years. Didn't happen. Those years had destroyed the elasticity of the bungee cords in my tent poles.  Lovely.  Any idea of how dismal it is putting up a tent in a driving rain, in the dark, with largely worthless poles?  

The tent would eventually, somehow, find shape, as the skies continued to unleash their madness.

The weather forecast, being a serious matter when spending most of your hiking hours within the creek, in a very distant location, and carting a lot of expensive camera gear.  Forecast for the area was .07 inches of rain.

Those .07 inches of rain fell in about the first 12 minutes of bombardment, and would continue through the night with an occasional boom of thunder thrown in for grand measure.  

Santa Teresa Mountains

The morning saw the three adventurers tired, needing coffee and questioning the wisdom of entering the rising creek.  

A single truck would splash its way past our parking lot Hilton accommodations.  Odd, to have traffic roll past us, since this was basically the end of the general road system.

An old windmill structure and wind sock behind the Klondyke School.  The school now serves as a search and rescue location and helicopter pad.

The truck would ramble back through our disaster zone and Lori, in a heads up move, would emerge from the tent and flag down the vehicle.  It was a rancher checking on a horse on her property.  The news on creek conditions was not stellar.     "Can we get a ride back to Klondyke"?

Redtail Hawk

We scooped up our wet belongings and were on our way back to Klondyke.  It would have been a long slog, on foot, back to Klondyke, along the road that Billy the Kid had once traveled.  Our home for the day would be the old Klondyke School.  It was now being used as a search and rescue base, for community meetings and a helicopter base.  

Aravaipa Road looking at the Pelocillo Mountains

The call was made and it would be another eight hour drive for our gracious and now overworked drivers to pick us up.  

Adorning the now sparse, marginally used school, were posters advertising the film 'Powers War' and an old poster on a historic gun fight in the Galiuro Mountains called 'Shootout at Dawn'.  I read Shootout maybe 15 years ago and was intrigued by the story and history of Klondyke, the Galiuro's and the Power family.  The story chronicles the Power family and a conflict and eventual gun fight over draft dodging during WWI.  There are a number of books on the subject, with some siding with the Power family and others which back law enforcement.  The actual facts elude those seeking the full story so the details and guilt will never be fully known.  Four men would die in the most deadly gunfight in Arizona.  I understand that the world premiere of the film was shone in Klondyke.

The film is an excellent documentary:

The Power's War film

With a lengthy wait, I explored our surroundings, equipped with a camera and thoughts of a future Aravaipa trek.

We were quite the sight, with wet gear spread out over a lengthy section of stone fence in front of the school.  Checking on the status of the new members of Klondyke community was 'the Grader Man'.  He had grown up in the region and his role was to keep the roads in working order during adverse conditions.  I missed his visit but heard of some of his exploits and of his nearly famous dog, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, who travels on the roof of the truck and of his courting the females of the isolated area, with special escape visits to a girlfriend 8 miles from his home.  

Storm clouds over Willcox, AZ

Plans for another Aravaipa journey are in the works.  The area is too amazing to not come back. The wet gear and clothes should be dry by then.  

'Let's Do It!' (Part 4) - An almost cross country cycling adventure

'Let's Do It!' (Part 4) - An almost Cross Country Cycling Adventure

Pouring cats and dogs and some unidentified critters as we rode the final 16 miles to Lordsburg, NM.  An exhaustive search yields no reasonable housing options, so we opt for camping in the thickets behind a city park.

The Holiday Inn of Pecan Orchard Camping

Roger's 'Breakfast Machine' greets me in the am and flat tires greet me later in the day.  It occurs to me that I am the lucky recipient of about 100% of the bicycle problems.  Amazingly, tire terror would puncture Rog's life, and out of mine, the last half of the country.  

Hatch, NM, capital of all things chile, was next on the ever expanding pedal universe.  Timing being perfect in our little chile world, we entered Hatch during their Chile Festival.  We would attach 3 chiles to the back of our velocipedes to share our allegiance to chiles. Journal notes fail to supply the question of how long those lasted.

A little further along New Mexico roads, Rog would ride over a deceased coyote.  In the slashing darkness, my laughter echoed across a rather empty landscape.  

 Near Nutt, NM and an approaching storm

Feeling good, but a touch of grogginess in the head, we spin triumphantly into the metro kingdom of Albuquerque.  Blood sugars have been ok, but there are moments.  Those moments are consuming when you are exhausted, pedaling into the wind (a true story teller will share that it was always a headwind!), dodging diapers in your path and dealing with agonizing blood sugars.  The challenges of each day are easily forgotten as the day yields special blessings sprinkled through the miles. 

Albuquerque, NM

As the big city looms, we jet into civilization behind our first tailwind.  We are one day ahead of schedule and this is Rog's previous hometown, so we stay four nights.  We set up camp in Grandma Burke's backyard.  A novel setting for our tour that has yielded many different settings for our 'home' each evening.

I turn 26, with little fanfare and the fact almost escaped me.  September 9 - Albuquerque to Santa Fe.  A cold has developed and will effect the next few days of pedaling.  My educated guess was the chilly night and horrible camping conditions upon the cement ground between a pecan and chile orchard in Garfield.

Amazingly, my back feels great and we are adapting to the long hours on the bike.  It is a miracle, and I am truly thankful that I hopped on the bike, a little over one week ago, despite a back that was screaming no way Jose!  There are still additional adaptions needed to a still uncomfortable seating arrangement.  

We spin through the rugged beauty of the Pecos Mountains as we head into Las Vegas.  No, the other Las Vegas (NM). The glory of this journey is embedding a mark upon my soul.  Rog and I have taken on a trek that was hastily thrown together, with a serious lack of funds, between two people that did not really know each other and it is developing into the trip of a lifetime.

Rog, shirtless in Santa Fe

Within the scribbled notes of my journal;  "A lot happens in 112 miles".  This post was on a long day (September 11) from Las Vegas to Tucumcari.  Those 100+ mile days,  fully loaded packs, do make for a lot of possible journal entries, but a soul and body that is too tired to write more than a few scribbles.

The days are slowly blending together and the bicycle and the road are becoming our lives.

  I no longer wonder, 'why are we doing this?' It is too amazing and enriching not to.

First extended rain hits us as we wheel into another state and an ever changing landscape.  We say hello to Adrian.  That is Adrian, TX.

A Front Row Seat to the Race Across America

A Front Row Seat to the Race Across America

by Dave Nevins

While the Tour de France has twenty-one stages, hotel stays, catered meals, ample sleep opportunities and is ‘only’ 2088 miles, the Race Across America (RAAM) is one single, grinding, relentless stage.

Vic Armijo and Jennifer Salazar and rider Christoph Strasser near Trinidad, CO

 The top solo participants in RAAM average about two hours sleep a night, with no hotels.  Their meals are corralled from the confines of cramped vehicles and they pedal 3,004 miles (if they are among the 50 percent that prevail as overcomers ).  The clock starts in Oceanside, California as riders follow a detailed network of  back roads that take them through the searing heat of the Mojave Desert, up and over the Rockies (high point is 10,856 feet), across the wind ravaged Kansas landscape, over the dreaded Appalachians, with a final tick of the clock in Annapolis, Maryland.  This year, the country unleashed some brutal, nasty weather upon the participants.  The desert Southwest was 5-10 degrees hotter than in the past decade and torrential rainfall and floods east of the Mississippi River slowed the race field.  

Christoph Strasser (Austria) near Trinidad, CO

With the start of RAAM on June 16, I was driving the RAAM Media 1 vehicle. I followed the procession of solo riders as they left the Pacific, churned up Palomar Mountain, took the plunge down the Glass Elevator, a ten mile plummet into Borrego Springs, CA and the searing heat of the Mojave Desert. This is stark reality punishing the riders, especially those coming from Europe.   Their training doesn’t usually include adapting to oven temperatures.  I had a front row seat to the highs and lows that make up one of the toughest events ever concocted.  

Severin Zotter (Austria) - Hanover, PA

With me in the Media 1 vehicle were photojournalist Vic Armijo and  videojournalist  Jennifer Salazar.  Their task was to provide photos/commentary and video of the race, with a special eye on the leaders.  My task was to assist them in reaching their goals. I drove, drove, bought gas, and drove some more, with ample opportunities to take my own photos/film and assist Jen with filming. 

Along beautiful Highway 12 near La Vita, CO

It took a short while to work our way through the whole field of solo riders and eventually catching the race leaders near Brawley, California.  The teams (2, 4 and 8 person) started the race on June 20^th and generally caught the tail end of the solo field in Ohio.  

Adam Bickett

This was my sixth RAAM.  In the other five I had participated in I had been part of a crew supporting a team.  This included Team Type 1 and their first RAAM (2006).  I also crewed for Team Type 2 for two years (2009 & 2010).  During this year’s race I was extra thankful for my CGM, as I was living a life that was definitely off-track from my usual lifestyle. I had to stay focused and do the best I could with blood sugars and control, constantly checking the sugars on the CGM.  It was easy to check the blood sugar levels with a quick glance on the CGM.    My basal rate had to be notched up a significant amount to cover my deficient exercise life while fastened to the driver’s seat. Thankfully, I had good blood sugars for most of my time on the road.  Another smile….

Vic Armijo and Jennifer Salazar near Hanover, PA

The long hours at the wheel did affect my glucose levels and management.  I  started each day with a low carb meal and kept the basal rate at a higher rate than normal.  Lunch was usually whatever could be snagged at a roadside gas station/convenience store.  Not ideal, but slightly better with coffee in hand.

Dinner found us chasing riders or settled into a hotel in Anywhere USA.  I often packed a dinner of sorts early in the day from food that I was able to pick up or had packed in Dave’s ever-relied upon food bag.  Our first sit-down dinner didn’t happen until the end of the race in Annapolis.  I relied on constant contact with my CGM and the convenience to make bolus shots—when needed—on my insulin pump during crazy-busy times often while driving.  

Pagosa Springs, CO

Steering wheel in hand meant dealing with traffic, a long list of turns and directions for each day and continual filming and photography.  Often I drove alongside the cyclists to provide some of best opportunities for Vic and Jen to take photo and film—yet a little unnerving for the driver.  We were always on the search for choice places to capture incredible footage.  Thankfully, this was Vic’s tenth year and he was pretty dialed in to the premium locations for shooting.  Our route took us mainly on back roads where we were immersed in the beauty of this country—the nooks and crannies of a beautiful and historic landscape that eludes most people zooming down the main arteries that crisscross this country.

Jennifer Salazar in Maryland, near the end of the race

Toward the end of the race, the notorious hills of West Virginia and Maryland greet each rider with a wicked, sneering grin as the finish line hails.  By this point riders are at their lowest ebb energy wise.  We ended the race tracking the top two solo riders; Severin Zotter (Austria) and David Haase (United States).  Severin wheeled across the finish line in Annapolis, first (eight days, eight hours, and seventeen seconds).   An amazing feat since this was his rookie year.  

A fun shot taken by Jennifer Salazar as I was not, quite, the RAAM Rookie Male of the Year

So what was the payoff for me? I came away with a vast number of photos and a healthy amount of video from a truly amazing event.  Not to mention the many  outstanding and inspiring stories, too many to recount in this blog.  No doubt the memories will stay with me forever, not to mention the hope that I’ll be back on the roads of RAAM next year.  

'It is Far to EVERYTHING, except Nature

'It is Far to EVERYTHING, except Nature'

Maybe 20 minutes ago I read a letter that Gunvor had written to my mother.  It is about the famed cookies that I had brought up to their cabin in Colorado.  She thanked my mother for the highly valued recipe and further on was a line she had shared about the remote location of the cabin.  She shared,  'It is far to EVERYTHING, except Nature'.  Agreed.  

This escape to the rugged majesty that is Southern Colorado was furnished by an invite from Eric (who is training me in photography) and the family cabin, situated high above Fort Garland.  Away from civilization, and close to things that wander the hills.  

The 12 hour drive would take a little bit longer as we stalked the many elusive photo ops along the back roads of Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado.  En route we would take the back roads of New Mexico, with an introduction to Pronghorn Antelope, and into the grandeur of El Malpais National Monument where we would encounter a few roaming elk.  They would continue their roaming ways until they connected with a herd of maybe 50.  Too far for even my 300mm lens, but a good sign for the trip.  

When we first saw the Bison in Colorado it was devouring grass behind a fence.  Only thing was that the fence had major gaps in it.  As he/she began to wander outside of the barbed wire it opened up a unique opportunity to photo and film a bison that was free to roam and spend some time near us. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7BCEFvIGsk

1 of 3 videos I posted on my youtube channel with the Bison.

Having just worked the Race Across America in the Media 1 vehicle I was stoked to come back to what is probably my favorite area of the course.  The stunning section of Hwy 12 between La Vita and Cuchara, CO is hands down, cool and beautiful.  Unfortunately, no wildlife, but always enjoy capturing our colorful, metal rooster.

We were fortunate enough to come across a herd of 150-200 elk.  It took roughly 20 minutes for the herd to cross this area.

I wanted to include some shots of the incredible Great Sand Dunes National Park (near Alamosa, CO).  

The Rio Grande Gorge near Taos provided us with tremendous views and bighorn sheep right next to the bridge.

Shortly after returning, I came across a bobcat family of 4 near my parents house.  This was the straggler of the family, as he ran down the wall to catch up with the rest of the clan.  

"As the Crow Flies"

'As the Crow Flies'

This is a story where the pictures tell most of the story, so I will lay out some of the background for a rather unique tale involving a crow, a ghost town, Hwy 40, and Flagstaff/Mt. Humphrey's.  As I look over the photos, I could not have orchestrated this better had I hired a film crew.

The background involves 2 different angles.  As my rental car  was zipping down Hwy 40, between Winslow and Flagstaff, AZ, I caught storm clouds enveloping Mt. Humphrey's.  I took the next exit (Two Guns road) in search of a high spot to snap the swirling weather conditions that were developing 30-40 miles ahead of me.  

I did not locate a good spot to take a photo, but I did notice a ghost town on the other side of highway.  Hmmm.  Love to explore, so I checked out the remnants of a failed commercial enterprise, mixed in with some older buildings.

Link to a story on Two Guns:

Two Guns Ghost Town

After exploration, photos and realization that I had a rental car to return, I ventured back onto Two Guns Road.  One last fleeting photo of the Hwy 40 sign (since I had traveled across most of the country on it).  Lucky me, there sat a crow on the Hwy 40 West sign.  

I took a photo and tried to get another photo of our bird and signage.  Evidently the crow had a mission, and I caught him/her taking off.  For some unknown, but now cool reason, I took a photo of the crow flying across the highway

The crow would arrive just before I reached the highway entrance.  I glanced at the same signs, but the West Hwy 40 sign was now on the right.  I had first seen the crow on the Hwy 40 West sign on the other side of the highway and he/she now sat on the Hwy 40 West sign on the other side of the Hwy.  

As if the crow felt like I needed additional help/support, I would get 'beaked' into a West direction.  'As the crow flies' may take on a different meaning.