Recently, life has been slow and with so much time indoors, I’ve taken the time to analyze my process in hopes of truly understanding what it is that I try to convey with my images and why I choose to do so. Photography is such an evolutionary process within yourself that it’s often difficult to gauge progress or even improvement. This trip back in late January helped me see the difference.
Trona Pinnacles. First visit, March 2017
By the beginning of January, I hadn’t really spoken to Brooklyn (@brooklyn_madden) since the previous July, so one evening I thought I’d reach out. It was actually just a few days prior to her flying out to California for her short winter break, so timing was spot-on. I suggested we go on a quick trip somewhere, she agreed, and I got straight to doing what I do best: plan all the logistics.
It had been three years since I had visited Trona and in the weeks leading up to this I yearned to return. Brooklyn felt the same as she also hadn’t been in years. The last time I made the trip I hadn't yet taken photography as seriously as I do now, my gear wasn't as great, and my eye for things hadn't developed enough yet. In the years since I’ve also found friends who shared the same passion for being outside. Brooklyn was one of them.
We set out early on the first day along with my friend Artemio (who I went to Trona with the first time). We spent the two-and-a-half-hour car ride catching up on the last few months, talking about some future plans, joking around, and laughing. It seemed like we picked up right where we left off the previous July. I feel like I say it all the time, but for me, being outside is more about the people I choose to spend time with rather than the location itself. Sure, an awesome view is always a plus, but without good company or a particular activity, the view is just that, a view with no real depth. I strive to capture what it feels like to be in a particular place and more importantly, to tell a story.
As we approached and got onto the dirt road signaling the home stretch, we could see the rock spires get taller and taller. The Martian landscape is hard to get over. It's certainly one of the most unique places I've ever seen. Upon arriving, we took some time to walk around and explore the various groups of spires, something I failed to do the first time around.
Finding a spot to set up camp turned out to be harder than we expected, but upon climbing a hill to take pictures we saw that a nice, big clearing at the base would be perfect. After setting up camp we continued taking pictures. The sunset came and went hidden by thick clouds in the distance, but the real treat came after. Blue hour turned out to be quite incredible. We all had a good time spending blue hour atop a 200-foot hill with spires at the top before coming down in the dark.
We then settled down on our campsite and made dinner consisting of cup noodles, some Cheese-Its, and some canned wine. Brooklyn and I still laugh about that wine to this day. We sat around and talked for what seemed like hours before getting ready for bed. We tucked into our sleeping bags looking forward to waking up for sunrise. We woke up about an hour before the sun came up to make breakfast. On the menu, we had oatmeal and some bananas, with some fresh coffee as a post-sunrise treat.
The air was brisk and dry as we got ready to venture out to a spot we thought would be perfect to see the sun rise. It was such a surreal experience not seeing a single soul around. We had the entire 3,800 acres all to ourselves. The silence combined with the sheer magnitude of the spires all around us really added to the imagination of what being on Mars would be like. Aside from Jordan, where most of the Martian movie footage is shot on Earth, I think Trona is no question the next most Mars-looking place on Earth. The orange landscape just glows as the light hits it and the spires cast shadows hundreds of feet long.
I was atop a steep incline when I spotted a framing of this landscape I had never seen captured before. It was a view that perfectly encapsulated the views, feelings, and wonder that this place instills in you. I immediately knew how I wanted to photograph it so I asked Brooklyn to walk to the ridge opposite from me. With the sun rising faster and harsh light beginning to take hold I was unsure if what I had in mind would even work. But a few moments later, with her help, I captured what I feel is the best landscape picture I've ever taken.
I knew instantly that this picture was the one I came here for. I came with an open mind, letting myself take this place in. Years ago when I first visited, no matter how identical the conditions might’ve been, I probably never would’ve captured pictures or a story remotely close to this.
It’s amazing how time changes your perspective and allows you to experience a place completely differently the second time around. I look at the first image in this article and then at this last set (where I share my coffee-making process with Brooklyn) and I see countless hours of shooting, hours of brainstorming, writing, reading, and the itching passion to tell my story the best way I know how.