Thursday, February 4, 2010

American Ingenuity

FLAGSTAFF, AZ -- Still slightly troubled by the extreme commercialization and vast amount of tourist facilities at the entrance to Bryce Canyon National Park, I've been mulling the justification of it all: Jobs, of course. Work. Money from tourists to feed peoples' families. So I guess it's okay. It costs $25 per vehicle these days just to enter the park.

Anyway, I almost didn't stop to take this photo below, which I would describe as a "cornball tourist snapshot." I am sure it's been taken millions of times and has appeared on millions of postcards. But the lighting was good and the traffic was light, so I pulled over and got it for you.

By tonight I should be reunited with some first cousins I haven't seen in 40 years or more. I guess I'd better go get in the shower and spiff myself up. I am pretty excited to see them.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Perfect Timing

PANGUITCH, UT -- Bryce Canyon National Park, like Yellowstone and Glacier, would irritate the heck out me in the summertime when the tourist trade is booming.

Enduring exhaust-fumed, bumper-to-bumper traffic, or riding in a shuttle full of annoying Elmore Gawkers with whining little kids, is not my idea of how to experience nature's grandeur of this caliber. Add in the summer heat, and I can't wait to get out of there.

Right now I have this whole place almost to myself and I love it. Wintertime outdoor photography is usually more interesting anyway, since only the most-dedicated or crazy shooters will go out looking for scenery when it's 10 degrees below zero.

It's not quite that cold here, but the snow is piled higher than Bric's back and it's definitely quite chilly. That's why I took this rather-bland picture below from my truck's window in, appropriately named, Red Canyon. This shot is not enhanced by any type of photo-manipulating software, I swear.

My new Nikon has captured more-stunning versions of this area's glorious color, but I'm saving them to show you later. I need to write something inspirational to accompany some of my newly acquired Kodak moments. There's even a Kodachrome Basin State Park here, if you can believe it.

To say, "It's really pretty here," is an idiotic understatement an Emore Gawker might utter, so I'll just close by telling you, "Don't ever come here in July."