Focal Points
Chair Programs
Treasurer Membership
Editor Communications Meetup
Instagram Outings Outings
SCCC Leadership
Joe Doherty
Susan Manley
Ed Ogawa
Joan Schipper
Joe Doherty
Velda Ruddock
Ed Ogawa
Joan Schipper
Joan Schipper
Alison Boyle
joedohertyphotography@gmail.com
SSNManley@yahoo.com
Ed5ogawa@angeles.sierraclub.org
JoanSchipper@ix.netcom.com
joedohertyphotography@gmail.com
vruddock.sccc@gmail.com
Ed5ogawa@angeles.sierraclub.org
JoanSchipper@ix.netcom.com
JoanSchipper@ix.netcom.com
AlisoniBoyle@icloud.com
Focal Points Magazine is a publication of the Sierra Club Camera Committee, Angeles Chapter. The Camera Committee is an activity group within the Angeles Chapter, which we support through the medium of photography. Our membership is not just from Southern California but is increasingly international.
Our goal is to show the natural beauty of our world, as well as areas of conservation concerns and social justice. We do this through sharing and promoting our photography and by helping and inspiring our members through presentations, demonstration, discussion, and outings.
We have members across the United States and overseas. For information about membership and/or to contribute to the magazine, please contact the editors or the membership chair listed above. Membership dues are $15 per year, and checks (payable to SCCC) can be mailed to: SCCC-Joan Schipper, 6100 Cashio Street, Los Angeles, CA 90035, or Venmo @CashioStreet, and be sure to include your name and contact info so Joan can reach you.
The magazine is published every other month. A call for submissions will be made one-month in advance via email, although submissions and proposals are welcome at any time. Member photographs should be resized to 3300 pixels, at a high export quality. They should also be jpg, in the sRGB color space.
Cover articles and features should be between 1000-2500 words, with 4-10 accompanying photographs. Reviews of shows, workshops, books, etc., should be between 500-1500 words.
Copyright: All photographs and writings in this magazine are owned by the photographers and writers who created them. They hold the copyrights and control all rights of reproduction and use. If you desire to license one, or to have a print made, contact the editor at joedohertyphotography@gmail.com, who will pass on your request, or see the author’s contact information in the Contributors section at the back of this issue.
https://angeles.sierraclub.org/camera_committee
https://www.instagram.com/sccameracommittee/
John Nilsson in the Dolomites © Thomas Loucks
Loucks
Photo: Before dawn not far from Cortina d’ Ampezzo © John Nilsson
When I was a kid I read about W. Eugene Smith’s arguments with the editors of Life Magazine. He had very specific ideas about how his photographs should be selected and sequenced, and these ideas often conflicted with the editors ideas about the same things. He had a story to tell, and they had a magazine to get out. From this I remember two things: it’s OK to have an idea about how your photographs fit together in a story and to fight for it; and it’s good to be the editor.
As the editor of Focal Points I keep that story at the forefront of my mind. I am regularly amazed by the quality of work our members submit to this magazine. That shows a great deal of trust, and mutual respect, and I don’t take it for granted. As I wrote a few issues ago, I try to treat your work the same way that I’d like mine to be treated – with respect and with maximum space on the page.
That approach is paying dividends. This issue has four distinctly different articles about photography. They are personal stories, even when they have a larger story behind them. And they are also universal stories that we can all relate to. The palpable excitement of John Nilsson’s account of his trip to the Dolomites is infectious. It’s impossible to read without reliving some of the journey along with him.
John Fisanotti’s second installment of his trip down the Colorado River is a different kind of personal journey. As members of the Sierra Club we inherit the battles of the past, but sometimes it’s good to revisit the battlefields. While floating down the river last May my attention was directed to the places where the holes had been drilled and the aerial tramway was strung, and I couldn’t help but thank our
predecessors for stopping the construction of Marble Dam.
Peter Bennett’s article on Tulare Lake reminds me that sometimes the past isn’t even past. The massive rainfall of 2023 flooded towns and farms built on land that had been “reclaimed” decades ago. Tulare Lake had always been there, it was just waiting for the right moment to reassert itself. The lake has now mostly been drained, but as climate change promises ever more unpredictable weather, it’s possible that we’ll see it refill within our lifetime.
Finally, Tom Loucks tells a very intimate and sentimental story about revisiting his youth through photographs of his family home. The images themselves are modern. That is, they could have been made in the last five years, instead of decades ago. Are these nostalgic, or something else? Nostalgia seems too shallow a concept. I think that when we look at photographs we took in our youth we’re looking at the nascent photographers we eventually became. We were more than recordkeepers, we were observers, and we have an opportunity to rediscover what we thought was important.
I hope we can continue to tell such stories going forward, and that I give you each little reason to argue with me over sequencing and layout.
Joe Doherty July 2024
Brian Leary, August 8 @ 7pm
Shoot For The Sky: Photographing The Milky Way And The Aurora Borealis
"The best time of the year to photograph the Milky Way is right on our doorsteps, and with the Aurora Borealis having a record year, there are a lot of opportunities to take your own surreal and amazing images of the night sky. Armed with a little bit of knowledge, taking images of celestial events is easier than you might think. Join photographer and educator, Brian Leary, for a look into the techniques and planning necessary to capture unique images you’ll want to share for years to come."
https://lightsourcejourneys.com/
Register for this meeting here: https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZEuc--rqTItGNGbPjsSLBSDUQNWwEnReOVA
SCCC Outing August 11-13
Eastern Sierra Night & Wildlife Photography at a dark sky site
Led by Allan Der
“The trip begins in Lee Vining, we have two nights of primitive camping in the remote Granite Mountain Wilderness. This area is known for very dark skies where we will learn how to photograph the Perseid Meteor Shower and Milky Way. The next day we will focus on photography of wildlife from birds and pronghorns to wild mustangs in Adobe Valley. Then, one more night of Milky Way photography.”
For more details and to register, go to this link:
https://act.sierraclub.org/events/details?formcampaignid=7013q0000029oQ6AAI
Peaks and Chapels
A Trip to the Dolomites
Article
and
Photographs by John Nilsson
Chapel at the beginning of the trail to reach Tre Cime peaks and the Cimi Grand de Lavaredo Pass.
About a year ago I was paging through my emails and ran across a spectacular video prepared by DJI featuring their newest drone and an incredible flight through the peaks of the Italian Dolomites. I attached a link to the video and sent it off to my friend and fellow SCCC member Tom Loucks suggesting that we must do this trip. Tom told me he had taken a workshop in the Dolomites several years prior and was dying to go back. He raved about this program that was put together and guided by Hans Kruse, a resident of Copenhagen, who has made quite a name for himself for workshops throughout Europe. A couple of phone calls later we
found ourselves booked on the May, 2024 Hans Kruse Photography Workshop to the Dolomites! Deposits were sent, tickets were purchased, and we started talking the trip up to our mutual friends – all SCCC members from the Denver area. Before we knew it we learned we would be joined by Wiebe Gortmaker and his wife Terri, and Basil Katsaros and Paula Vonlindern. The trip was comprehensively and minutely planned by Hans down to the hour and there was little for us to do but get to Italy.
I challenged myself to pack everything I needed for 14 days on the road in just one
carry-on bag as I did not want to risk the chance of losing my stuff through checked luggage. With a little thought and creativity, I was able to get everything including a sturdy tripod into a bag that just barely fit in the overhead. That left me with only an underseat bag for my camera equipment – not an easy task. Something (almost everything) in my standard camera kit had to go. Finally, I found an acceptable solution: My Sony a1 body, with an old Sony backup body, my 1235mm Sony G Master wide angle and a new 50-400mm lens just introduced by Tamron. The lens is smaller, lighter, and sharper than my Sony 70-200 G Master and turned out to be the absolute perfect lens for landscape applications short of wide angle. That lens stayed on my camera 90% of the time. I’d venture a guess that 60% of that time the lens
was set at 50mm. The Tamron is super sharp and very light, has great feel, and was had for a ridiculously low price. The whole kit including the two lenses and the two bodies fit easily into a SMedium Peak Design Camera Cube, which in turn fit into a small backpack, which in turn slid nicely under the seat in front of me in Economy Class. Problem solved. And, I came back with everything I left home with!
After what seemed an interminable wait filled with anticipation, I found myself on a Delta flight to JFK, connecting to Venice, Italy. I met Tom at the Venice airport the next day where we rented a car for the three-hour drive north. Tom had arranged for all six of us SCCC members to stay the first two nights at two high-mountain huts: Utia de Borz, and
Church thru clearing morning fog from observatory near Nova Levante
Lago di corezza near Nova Levante Iconic chapel – everyone wants this shot
Rifugio Fermeda Hutte. These were located an hour apart but very near the first meeting place of the workshop. As we were about a week before the mountain hut season, we enjoyed being some of the few guests at these rustic ski- in/ski-out facilities. Both huts were comfortable and modern, and the food was outstanding.
The Fermida Hutte at the top of the Col Raiser lift, was especially memorable. Alena, her husband, and their high-school aged son, live onsite year-round, and bent over backwards to be certain we were pampered beyond reproach. Unfortunately, our eagerness to photograph the experience was hampered by heavy low clouds and intermittent rain – a malady that plagued us the next few days.
After the hutte experience we were off to our first residence base. The Hotel Adler is a small, intimate lodge just outside of Nova
Levante, owned and operated by an older couple and their son, Werner. Werner attended to our every need and acted as waiter/busboy for all meals. If anyone had a question the answer was “Just ask Werner.” This delightful guy must have had a PhD in local geology and just about everything else. When the question was asked, “Werner, what kind of rock makes up all the jagged peaks we have seen,” he went on for almost half an hour. The guy knows his stuff!
Hans had been at the Hotel Adler many times with his workshops. The lodgings were firstclass and the food was world-class. As our stay at the Adler was paid by Hans through our workshop fees, we enjoyed copious wine at dinner and a wonderful five-course menu prepared by the 80-year-old owner and his wife. We never had to take out our billfolds or pull out a single Euro! The Hotel Adler was well located for the photo goals of the first
Refugio Laveredo at the foot of Tre Cime di Laveredo
half of our workshop. Each day we rose at 4-5 AM and stayed out most of the day, into sunset, seeing just about every photogenic spot within 50 miles of the lodge. Fortunately, the terrible rainy weather that kept us frustrated during the first few days of
the trip yielded to sun and outrageously beautiful skies. The evening meals were served at 8:30, our wine glasses were constantly full, and great conversation with the other eleven members of our group kept us up until 11:00 each night. I think I got only 4- 5 hours of sleep each night of the nineday workshop!
Near the Hotel Adler our photo ops were mainly of small, picturesque towns, each with two to three dramatic churches, dairy land hosting thousands of goats and dairy cows, and rural mountain chalets, each with their own barns and farm equipment. A highlight of this part of the workshop was the opportunity to shoot stunning Lago di Carezza, a small alpine lake,
Lago de Braise
located only a few miles from the hotel, in perfect late afternoon as well as perfect early morning light.
After five nights of absolute luxury we moved on to the Hotel Villa Argentina just outside of Cortina d’Ampezzo, the major ski facility in Italy sporting hundreds of ski lifts in an area many times the size of Mammoth and Vail put together. This was a larger hotel with many guests and the tourist season was just getting into full tilt.
The roads were full of traffic, accented by thousands of motorcycles and bicycles. Nowhere was there a straight road longer than 50 yards. Our efforts to reach our photo shoots were punctuated by interminable corkscrew two-lane switchbacks filled with roaring clusters of racing motorcyclists. I’m still amazed that we never witnessed the carnage
that I expected!
Over the next four days around Cortina d’Ampezzo we experienced high mountain passes with spectacularly rugged mountain scenery and mystically beautiful high mountain lakes. I confess that I saw so many incredible photo ops that I completely lost track of names and locations. Everything ran together in a mishmash of wonderful experiences.
Back at the hotel each night we continued to enjoy wonderful prepaid meals and, once again, the never-empty wine glass and very little sleep! Never once was I asked to come up with a nickel (Euro) while on Hans’ workshop. I was fearful of getting back to LA and finding I had gained ten pounds but it seems we were so active each day that I never added an ounce! This is indeed the way to
Early morning from Passo Giau
travel in Europe!
On the final morning of the workshop – after a final breakfast following a final 4 AM shoot we all said “good-bye” to Hans and our four foreign workshop friends on the expansive front lawn of the Hotel Villa Argentina.
Basil, Paula, Wiebe, Terri, Tom and I had one final adventure.
After a forty-five-minute drive we arrived at the base of the thrilling Funicular Lagazuoi which was to be our conveyance to the mountaintop Rifugio Lagazuoi. This cable car is literally straight up from the base terminal gaining over 3,000 feet to the clifftop Rifugio. There were no supporting towers – only a cable and a lot of air! I am told Lagazuoi, is the highest hutte in Europe and believe me, it’s impressive!
The mountain top was used as a defensive
position for the Italian Army during WWI when they were trying to keep the Austrians from taking over the country. The top of the mountain is filled with memorials and pillbox caves where the Italians rained artillery shells on the Austrian invaders. Unfortunately, I don’t know much about the conflict except that the Italians were obviously successful in the defense of their homeland! The views were a hundred miles in all directions. The Rifugio was crowded but wonderful and the food was, once again, remarkable.
I have included only a few of my favorite photographs with this article. It was difficult to narrow my “selects” down to just these few. As I confessed earlier, I am unable to specify where most were taken as there were just so many photo ops. Generally speaking all photos were taken within a hundred squaremiles with Cortina d’Ampezzo at its center. These are generally in the order in which they
Observation nest top of Lagazuoi
were taken over the eleven-day workshop plus Rifugio experience. If you’d like to see more Dolomite photos, Hans has prepared a slide show featuring a selection of the photos taken by all participants in our group. The link to this slide show is https://www.dropbox.com/ scl/fi/f2l00xbt9gzbkb1qzh2mo/DolomitesJune-2024- slideshow.mp4?
rlkey=tbg9vspk2hhltlxxkxltopgag&dl=0
This was the trip of a lifetime. Kudos to our leader Hans Kruse www. hanskrusephotography.com. He made sure through experience and careful planning that our trip would be comfortable and offer amazing photo opportunities. I’d recommend any of Hans’ trips which, in addition to being totally fool-proof, are priced to give full value. The cost of this trip to me was only $2,495 and included luxury lodging, fabulous meals,
copious wine and, of course, Hans’ faultless experience and planning. My only additional cost was my plane fare and half the cost of a rental car. Better yet, there were no hidden or unexpected “surprises.” The weather, after the first few days was spectacular, and the general travel experience was truly memorable. The autostradas are remarkably smooth and wellmarked and signaled. Even the cork-screw secondary roads and unpaved single lane roads we visited were meticulously maintained. From Venice north to the Dolomites and back to Venice I failed to find a single errant piece of trash. The people we met were friendly and helpful and wouldn’t think of making us try to communicate in anything other than English. No one would take a tip. I don’t know how they make everything so perfect!
Lake Misurina and the Grand Hotel Musurina
Rafting the Colorado River, Part 2
Article and Photographs by
John Fisanotti
This second installment continues the story and photos of my trip down the Colorado River in May of 2022.
On the morning of May 11, 2022, shortly after leaving camp, our guides put in on the east bank of the river near Mile 39 (i.e. 39 river miles downstream of Lee’s Ferry.) From here we scrambled up a short trail. By now, we were used to making stops to visit various attractions – but this one was different. We had just floated through the narrow, and spectacularly scenic confines of Marble Canyon.
We gathered around a hole in the east wall of the canyon. But this was not a cave, it was an exploratory tunnel drilled into the rock to assess the site for the proposed Marble Canyon Dam. A dam here? How could anyone dream of submerging such exquisite wilderness?
In 1964, the Bureau of Reclamation and many in Congress could. For at the time of this proposal, the geographic extent of Grand Canyon National Park was smaller than it is today, and Marble Canyon was outside the boundaries of the park. The site was so remote, that the Bureau built an aerial tramway nearby to conduct men and materials from the canyon’s rim down to the river, 2,500 vertical feet below.
Fortunately, the tramway is gone and the proposed dams – yes, there was more than one planned, never came to fruition. But the story of this near disaster is fascinating, and is also a well-documented success story for the Sierra Club in fending off this threat to one of the premier scenic attractions in North America.
Many of the proposed water delivery projects contemplated by the Bureau of Reclamation in the 1950s and 1960s, were either environmentally destructive, and/or had serious deficiencies when subjected to a cost/ benefit analysis. Yet, many dams got built. In an era before the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) it was more difficult to prevent threats to the environment. And a negative cost/benefit didn’t deter politicians who saw dams in their district as a benefitbringing good paying jobs and economic development to their constituents - even when an objective evaluation said the dam made no sense.
The story of the Marble Canyon dam, and its companion dam, the Bridge Canyon dam is breathtaking in its audacity. The full scope of the proposed construction consisted of the Marble Canyon Dam at Mile 39.5, where the river is at an elevation of approximately 2,840 feet above sea level, the Bridge Canyon Dam at Mile 236, where the river is at an elevation of approximately 1,225 feet above sea level, and a tunnel, 38 miles long was to be drilled deep under the canyon rim to deliver water from the upstream dam to the downstream dam, bypassing the river that flowed through Grand Canyon National Park.
Additional sediment retention dams were to be built in some of the tributary streams as well. Whereas, flows of the Colorado River within Grand Canyon National Park are often measured in the tens of thousands of cubic feet per second (CFS) the Bureau was
proposing to let a scenic trickle of about 1,000 CFS emerge from the Marble Canyon Dam to flow through the park, ecologically destroying the river. Meanwhile, the National Park was to be “bookended” between two dams.
Marble Canyon dam would create a reservoir 40 to 50 miles long, all the way up to, and even past Lee’s Ferry. The Bridge Canyon Dam would flood 95 miles through Grand Canyon National Monument to the then boundary of the National Park and drown the lower reaches of turquoise blue, Havasu Creek and Lava Falls, the largest and most renowned rapid on the river. At this time, the adjacent downstream section of the Colorado River flowed through Grand Canyon National Monument, but not Grand Canyon National Park; a distinction which the dam’s
proponents at the Bureau assumed the public wouldn’t find objectionable.
So, what was to be gained by all of this environmental destruction? Shockingly, it wasn’t to save or deliver water, at least not directly. The Bureau was pitching this massive hydroelectric project because the difference in elevation between the two dams would result in a large amount of hydroelectric power generated at the Bridge Canyon Dam. The Bureau was after the projected revenues from the sale of this hydro-electric power. It was essentially a cash cow, which the Bureau hoped to use to subsidize other financially “underwater” (pun intended) reclamation projects.
Why this never happened is due largely to the Sierra Club. The Club’s Executive Director, David Brower, had recently “sacrificed” Glen
Mile 42. Much of the marketing brochures for river trips emphasize the “whitewater” experience. However, rapids represent a very short but exhilarating interlude between long stretches of placid water, moving at a rate of about 4 miles per hour. Here, on a quiet stretch, some in our group enjoy kayaking.
Canyon, in a compromise to keep a proposed dam out of Echo Canyon in Dinosaur National Monument. But even before Glen Canyon Dam was completed, Brower had regretted the loss of Glen Canyon and vowed to not let it happen again.
The Sierra Club mounted a nation-wide publicity campaign. The mid-60s was a time when the American public awakened with a growing consciousness about protecting the environment. And, as the word got out that the Grand Canyon was at risk, many followed the Sierra Club’s lead in voicing opposition to the proposed dams.
By 1967, public sentiment against the dams was strong enough to turn the tide in Washington D.C. The dams were dropped
from any pending legislation and, as one of his final acts on his last day in office, President Lyndon Johnson created Marble Canyon National Monument. Six years later President Gerald Ford signed an act to enlarge Grand Canyon National Park by subsuming Marble Canyon and Grand Canyon National Monuments.
After our guides had finished this lesson on the recent human history of the river, we returned to our boats with an even greater appreciation for the scenic wonders, which were preserved for us, and future generations to enjoy. Thanks to the foresight and fortitude of conservationists in the 1960s, our trip of 225 uninterrupted river miles lay entirely within a more glorious Grand Canyon National Park.
Mile 44, Eminence Camp. Most nights, everyone turned in by 8:30, or so because we’ll be up at daybreak the next morning. On this night, a ten-day old moon provided illumination during a quiet contemplative time.
Mile 44, Hedgehog Cactus. A trip through the canyon in spring affords a chance to see wildflowers in bloom.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Reisner, Marc. Cadillac Desert, The American West and its Disappearing Water. New York: Penguin Books, 1993.
Stevens, Larry. The Colorado River in Grand Canyon, A River Runner’s Map and Guide to its Natural and Human History. Flagstaff, AZ: Grand Canyon Wildlands Council, 2013.
Mile 44, High view of Eminence Camp. One can spot our camp by the collection of yellow inflatables tied up on shore. This morning before breakfast, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a camera in the other, I joined an energetic group, which ascended the steep trail from the river’s edge to this high viewpoint, across the river from Point Hansbrough, which is visible as the massive red wall on the right.
Opposite Page: Mile 47, Saddle Canyon Falls. Saddle Canyon is one of countless side canyons, As we hiked this tributary, it got narrower until we came upon this waterfall, preventing further travel upstream.
Mile 53, Nankoweap.
The granaries at Nankoweap is an iconic location which affords a view downstream. It’s at the end of a steep ascent, 700 feet above the river.
Tulare Lake: A Ghost Returns
Article and Photographs by Peter Bennett
In 2014 I photographed a story about the severe drought that was affecting communities and agriculture businesses in the Central Valley. I spent time talking to and photographing farmers who were struggling to keep their crops alive, and community members who were delivering bottled water to neighbors whose wells had run dry. But the most dramatic visuals were the reservoirs that had essentially become dry lake beds. Millerton Lake and reservoir in Fresno was so far below its normal levels that it resembled a strange moonscape, revealing rocks and structures not seen for who knows how long.
Last year I went out to the Central Valley to photograph a story I would never have
thought possible back in 2014: the return of Tulare Lake. A ghost lake they were calling it. Tulare Lake was once the largest freshwater lake west of the Mississippi. Over decades it has been drained in order to provide irrigation for the farmers in the Central Valley. The drainage did not just shrink it, it eliminated it completely. Farms, towns, and roads sprang up on the dry lake bed, and if you didn’t know it, you would never have guessed that a lake ever existed there.
The winter of 2022-23 was a particularly wet one and runoff from the Sierra snowpack filled the dry Tulare Lake bed as it had for the millennia prior to its draining. Tulare Lake had returned and it had returned with a
vengeance. The photos I saw of it seemed surreal. The towns, farms and roads that existed on the dry lake bed were now underwater, gone and inaccessible. I had to see this for myself.
I have driven out to the Central Valley on many occasions, and there is this moment when you cross Interstate 5 heading towards Bakersfield that you understand that you are not in LA any more. Unlike Dorothy’s realization in the Wizard of Oz, you actually might think you are in Kansas. Farmhouses, rows of almond orchards and other crops, tractors chugging along the highway, all become part of the natural landscape.
As I drove through the town of Corcoran, the place that had been most mentioned in the articles I had read about Tulare Lake, everything seemed normal. Certainly there were no signs of strange large bodies of water. I began to wonder if this was all some weird prank being pulled by local denizens on naive city folk to make them drive all the way out here on a wild goose chase.
I continued through town on Whitley Ave, the main road heading west out of town, hoping to find something interesting to photograph. I soon came across the first of several road closed barricades. This first one was on the edge of town but there was no indication of any hazard so I just drove around it and continued on my way. But after another mile or so I came upon another concrete barricade and then there it was, Tulare Lake.
The land to the left of the road was now completely engulfed by the water. There was no land to water transition as one might normally expect. One minute there was a farm and then the next there was a lake. I carefully drove around the barricade on a makeshift dirt byway that other vehicles had obviously been using, and drove out to see where this all ended.
Soon the land on the right side of the road also gave way to the lake and the only thing preventing the water from washing over the road completely was that was very slightly
raised. Raised enough to keep it mostly dry, but not enough to bely the uneasy feeling I had as I gingerly proceeded into very unknown territory.
The landscape was as surreal as I had hoped and expected. Crops jutted out of the lake water, as ducks and other water birds swam between the rows of plantings. Farmhouses looked like small islands in the distance. Scenes like this are not uncommon in major flood events, but this was different. There was a sense of permanence to this. The lake looked like it planned to stick around for a while.
Eventually the road just ended. No signs, no warnings, just the road gradually submerging into the water, its center white lines just faded into the lake. I stopped the car and stood there taking it all in. There was an eerie quiet, the only sounds were the water gently lapping on the new asphalt shoreline. Some telephone poles continued on into the distance, but an
orphaned stop sign and some useless road signs were the only other reminders of what had been there. I took a few photos and decided to come back later in the day for some better light.
Exploring the area was difficult as maps were useless. It was hard to determine the perimeter of the lake so you just had to drive and see what you might discover. Going down various roads I saw partially submerged farming equipment sticking up, as well as farm silos, the only evidence of what must have been a large working farm only a few months ago. One road led me to the edge of Corcoran State Prison, which luckily was a few hundred yards from where the lake ended.
I also came across some members of the California Conservation Corps piling up sandbags and building a levee to protect crops from further expansion of the lake. I had done some work for the Corps a number of
years ago and I ended up talking to the foreman of the group about some mutual friends. It was a nice respite, something familiar amidst all the other disorientating things of the day.
I returned late that afternoon to the end of the road location I had been at earlier in the day. The wind had kicked up considerably and the small ripples I saw earlier on the lake had become some decent sized waves. The strangeness of the scene really hit me at that point, as the churning surf was something you might expect to see on the shores of Lake Michigan, not in the middle of one of the largest agricultural centers of the country.
I set up my camera for a dusk shot, I really wanted to capture the feeling of being at the end of the road. It felt dramatic out there, and I wanted the photo to convey it. I did a number of long exposures in order to smooth out the waves, and stuck a telephone pole in the middle of the composition to pull it all
together. My senses were on overload as I stood out there in the middle of nowhere taking my shot. Sometimes distilling everything into a two-dimensional frame can be challenging when all your senses are buzzing. I hoped I was getting it. No one else came along the whole time I was out there, it was just me and the howling wind, the turbulent waves and the feeling I was at the edge of the world.
As for the night ahead, the accommodations in the town did not seem too inviting, but I ran into an LA Times photographer who knew about a nearby casino that offered clean beds and a comfortable stay. The Tachi Palace Casino Resort was a short distance from Corcoran in the town of Lenmoore, and run by the Santa Rosa Indian Community of the Santa Rosa Rancheria.
I checked in and started walking down the hall to the elevator when I noticed murals on the walls. They depicted scenes of Native
Americans in various interactions with the lake. Scenes of people fishing, canoeing, cooking, basket weaving, and building habitats in and around Tulare Lake lined the hallway. I had realized that of course the lake had existed for probably thousands of years, but hadn’t given much thought until then about who had lived and made their home there for that same millennia.
The Yakuts was the name for the over 60 tribes that inhabited the Central Valley, but locally it was the Tachi Yokut Tribe that was most likely represented on the murals in the casino. The settlers who drained the lake for their irrigation purposes in the early 1900s, had destroyed the lives and culture of the peoples who had built their life around the lake, and who had depended on the lake’s fish and wildlife for their food and the abundant Tule as the source for materials.
I later read articles about how the tribes had been recently been holding ceremonies celebrating the return of the lake and performing blessings to cleanse the lands it now covered in hopes of it possibly remaining.
A year after my visit there, the lake still exists, however it is significantly smaller. Last June it covered approximately 114,000 acres, today it is down to around 4,500 acres.
I’ve taken many trips to many places over the years. Some stay with you more than others. Tulare Lake is one of those places that still inhabits my memory, and lingers in my thoughts. Perhaps it is a ghost lake that will reappear from time to time. With the extreme weather we will experiencing more and more of, it is entirely possible that Tulare Lake could exist in one form or another for years to come.
Archiving Family Memories
Article and Photographs
by Thomas Loucks
Joe Doherty’s recent article (“Make a Book, Part 1” May/June 2024) inspired me to report on my own efforts to document my memories from a treasured family home.
In the 1960s, my parents bought a charming, 150-year-old farmhouse in central Vermont (see below), about the same time as I had purchased my first 35mm camera (Nikkormat FTN). I often traveled there alone to study on weekends during undergraduate and graduate years, and it was here that I realized my love for landscape photography and the Vermont countryside.
For Christmas 1970, I presented my parents
with a hardbound photo album of favorite images I had already captured to that point. The album still exists, but the drug store prints are faded. Fortunately, the original 35mm slides (Kodachrome, Agfachrome) remain in good shape, and, in 2021, I scanned them and made digital TIF images that I could edit.
To do so, I utilized a 2004 vintage CanoScan 8800F flatbed scanner, and dedicated firmware on the Windows XP computer I retain for this scanner. The scanner has served me well for several projects, having come with mounts that hold either 35mm slides or strips of 35mm film. Next, I blew air on each slide
with a Giotto lens cleaning blower, and then examined each with a 10x handlens to see if it was clean. If not, I used a microfiber cloth and Edwal anti-stat film cleaner to work on any remaining blemishes.
Most slides were in very good shape, though some had some discoloration in the corners, and I would treat that in post-processing. My scanner came with ArcSoft PhotoStudio 5 software (v. 5.5.0.87 for Canon), and I would use the color positive tab for slides. The scanner is capable of settings far in excess of 300 dpi, and I have always been satisfied using 1200 dpi.
Next, how should I organize and preserve my memories from this place? I’m alone now in recalling those days, and I seek both an answer to which I can turn for my own
pleasure, but also some form of document that my family can turn to. The question for me – and for anyone organizing such a project – is how to organize the album, and what should be included?
My hope is that these notes will not only document what I have done so far, but maybe serve as a guide pertaining to some types of images one might shoot going forward with this type of archival project in mind.
Presently, I am preparing a PowerPoint presentation which will serve as a draft before publishing a hardcopy photo album (which is what I would personally want), but the digital PowerPoint version can also serve for posterity, never losing its luster. The PowerPoint presentation so far has four parts. Part I is a reprise of my 1970 album, with all
of the original photos re-edited with Adobe software and looking as spiffy, or possibly even better, than the original 35mm slides.
Part II is an historic record of my images by
month, basically a visual calendar from whenever I was able to visit. Part III is similar but is very concise, capturing images that typify my memory of the property in each of the four seasons, and Part IV consists of my favorite images summarizing my memories from the time we owned the property.
To consolidate these thoughts, what do I choose to convey right now to readers of this article? Three things come to mind: the essence of the place as I remember it, highlights of some seasonal images that stick in my mind, and a few “studies” to show some
views.
How many times over the years would I cherish these two views, taken out the same living room window where I would set up to study while maintaining an eye on the weather and light. In October, the barn siding and tarnished copper roof on the guest bedroom bay window would echo the hues of the foliage, and, in February, the snow on the rooves would take on a characteristic sheen after undergoing multiple freeze-thaw cycles each winter. To this day, both of these images depict lasting memories.
My all-time favorite composition from the property is a behind-thebarn view where the split rail fence leads into the scene. I shot this scene every season, every year, but the images from winter – and during snowstorms -still bring a smile to my face.
The study of sugar maple leaves approaching peak color, though not yet red, brings back memories of dramatic scenes of fall foliage. I have always cherished this image.
Summertime often brought sweltering heatwaves and truly muggy days. Left over from spring, the lawn remained ultra-green, yet already the fields and surrounding hillsides would take on a golden glow as the grasses dried out. I remember that we mowed a path up the hill outside the house, where we could walk to admire the views, and that path in the
grass shows in this photo.
I’ll call two images “studies” – vignettes which depict other, more detailed memories: the buckets hanging inside the barn, while the weathered barn siding takes on gorgeous hues
in late afternoon light; and sharp, crisp, subfreezing winter days, when the snow glistens like sugar and the sun beats down on our backyard fence.
Finally, some waxing views and memories: the glorious oak tree marked the western edge of our property, and, situated immediately adjacent to the road, was already struggling from the effects of snow-melt salt; I suspect the tree is gone by now. Fittingly (perhaps?), my last image taken while we owned the property I could name, “Curtains.” I shot this with a tripod, looking down the upstairs hallway and aiming toward one of the upstairs bedroom windows, which framed the rain-drenched fall foliage outside. I closed up my camera, said my good-byes, and drove to the airport to fly back to Denver. At the time, I hadn’t appreciated that “Curtains” would be my last image, drawing a close to my time at our home in Vermont.
Closeup – Upper Yosemite Falls – 1982
Inspired by Joe Doherty’s article (“Make a Book, Part 1” May/June 2024 Focal Points) on preserving historic images, I offer this image as a recent “discovery” (or, possibly “Recovery” would be a better term.)
This image started life as a color positive (35mm slide) closeup of Upper Yosemite Falls, taken while hiking in 1982. I was never satisfied with the slide and decided to scan it in 2018. The digital image held promise, and I loved the deep blue hues, but it only occurred to me in 2024 to try converting it to B&W and editing in Silver Efex Pro. Voila! Now I am happy, and all this done with a 35mm slide that waited 36 years to be scanned and another six years before final editing.
Larry Miller
Toyon Leaves, Backbone Trail at Circle X Ranch
Hummingbird Sage and Canyon Sunflower, Backbone Trail in Latigo Canyon
Larry Miller
Soap Aloe, Rivas Canyon Trail in Will Rogers State Historic Park
Humboldt Lily, Solstice Canyon Trail
Larry Miller
Russula Mushroom, Santa Ynez Canyon Trail in Topanga State Park
Rebecca Wilks
Phlox and Dew, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona
Cottonwood Textures, Box Canyon, Ghost Ranch New Mexico
“Reservoir Dogs,” Kaibab National Forest, Arizona
Rebecca Wilks
Chimney Rock, Ghost Ranch New Mexico
Wild Iris Coconino
National Forest, Arizona
Gypsy the Wonder Dog and Navajo Mountain at sunrise, Kaibab National Forest, Arizona
Rebecca Wilks
Ladder, sculpture, shadow, and sky, Georgia O’Keeffe House, Abiquiu New Mexico
Thomas Cloutier
Thomas Cloutier
Beverly Houwing
A large flock of lesser flamingoes along the beach at Pelican Point, near Walvis Bay in Namibia.
A pair a Black-backed Jackals on the beach at the Atlantic Ocean in the Namib-Naukluft National Park.
A young male lion grabs a drink from a small water pool after a brief rain in Etosha.
A little hyrax pesters his mom for attention. The huge boulders at Spitzkoppe are an ideal habitat for this small mammal whose closest genetic relative is an elephant.
Etosha National Park is one of the best places for birding and viewing wildlife. A Lilac-breasted Roller flies off from a branch showing its beautiful color.
Beverly Houwing
Velda Ruddock
Summer Flowers
Velda Ruddock
Joe Doherty
Joe Doherty
Peter Bennett
Born and raised in New York City, Peter picked up his first camera and took his first darkroom class at the age of twelve.
Peter spent many years working as a travel photographer, and in 2000 started his own photo agency, Ambient Images. In 2015 he formed Citizen of the Planet, LLC, devoted exclusively to the distribution of his stories and photographs that focus on a variety of environmental subjects.
Peter’s editorial work has appeared in many publications including the New York Times, Time, Newsweek, National Geographic, Sunset Magazine, Los Angeles Magazine, and New York Magazine. His prints hang in the California State Capitol, California Science Center’s permanent Ecosystem exhibit, and many other museums, private institutions, and collector’s homes.
He has also worked with a numerous local environmental organizations over the years including FoLAR (Friends of the LA River), The Sierra Club, Greenpeace, Heal the Bay, 5 Gyres Institute, Algalita Marine Research Foundation, Communities for a Better Environment, and the LA Conservation Corps.
Peter has been an instructor for over fifteen years at the Los Angeles Center of Photography, and for years led their Los Angeles River Photo Adventure tour.
Thomas Cloutier
Thomas Cloutier has been with SCCC since 2001, and he has been contributing to Focal Points Magazine since that time.
Cloutier’s interest in photography coincides with his interest in travel and giving representation to nature landscapes. His formal education in photography comes from CSU Long Beach.
At present Cloutier is a volunteer at CSU, Long Beach where he taught Water Colors and Drawing at the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI), designed for Seniors over 45. He also is a docent at Kleefield Contemporary Museum CSU Long Beach. He is Liaison for the Art And Design Departments for a scholarship program for students at CSU Long Beach, Fine Arts Affiliates, FineArtsAffiliates.org.
Cloutier at cde45@verizon.net
Joe Doherty
Joe grew up in Los Angeles and developed his first roll of film in 1972. He has been a visual communicator ever since.
He spent his teens and twenties working in photography, most of it behind a camera as a freelance editorial shooter.
Joe switched careers when his son was born, earning a PhD in Political Science from UCLA. This led to an opportunity to run a research center at UCLA Law.
After retiring from UCLA in 2016, Joe did some consulting, but now he and his wife, Velda Ruddock, spend much of their time in the field, across the West, capturing the landscape. www.joedohertyphotography.com
John Fisanotti
John was a photography major in his first three years of college. He has used 35mm, 2-1/4 medium format and 4x5 view cameras. He worked briefly in a commercial photo laboratory. In 1980, John pivoted from photography and began his 32-year career in public service. He worked for Redevelopment Agencies at four different Southern California cities.
After retiring from public service in 2012, John continued his photographic interests. He concentrates on outdoors, landscape, travel and astronomical images. Since 2018, he expanded his repertoire to include architectural and real estate photography.
John lives in La Crescenta and can be contacted at either: jfisanotti@sbcglobal.net or fisanottifotos@gmail.com http://www.johnfisanottiphotography.com http://www.architecturalphotosbyfisanotti.com
Beverly Houwing
Beverly loves traveling and photography, which has taken her to 80 countries and every continent. Most often she visits Africa as she loves spending time in remote wilderness locations where there is lots of wildlife and unique landscapes.
Her images have been featured in numerous Africa Geographic articles, as well as in Smithsonian and the Annenberg Space for Photography exhibits. Her photographs have also been used for promoting conservation by many non-profit organizations, including National Wildlife Federation, National Parks Conservation Association, Crane Trust, National Audubon Society and Department of the Interior.
Beverly is an Adobe Certified Instructor, so when
she’s not out on a photography adventure she conducts training on their software programs and does freelance graphic design and production work.
Tom Loucks
Tom Loucks has been a longstanding amateur photographer, dating back to the late 1960s. Only in
recent years has he been able to devote serious time to the hobby. He garnered first place in National Audubon’s 2004 Nature’s Odyssey contest and has placed well in several contests by Nature’s Best, Share the View, and the Merrimack Valley’s George W. Glennie Nature Contest. He has two images of “Alumni Adventurers” on permanent display at Dartmouth College and has published images in Vermont Life and Utah Life magazines. Tom is a recent Past President of Denver’s Mile High Wildlife Photo Club. His photographic interests are landscape, wildlife, and travel photography, though his favorite subjects are alpine landscapes. Recently retired, Tom is looking forward to spending more time on photography and other outdoor activities.
Larry Miller
Larry used his first SLR camera in 1985 to document hikes in the local mountains. In fact, his first Sierra Club Camera Committee outing was a wildflower photo shoot in the Santa Monica Mountains led by Steve Cohen in 1991. Since then the SCCC has introduced him to many other scenic destinations, including the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve, the Gorman Hills, and Saddleback Butte State Park.
Larry’s own photography trips gradually expanded in scope over the years to include most of the western National Parks and National Monuments, with the Colorado Plateau becoming a personal favorite.
Photography took a backseat to Miller’s career during the 32+ years that he worked as a radar systems engineer at Hughes Aircraft/Raytheon Company. Since retiring in 2013, he has been able to devote more time to developing his photographic skills. Experiencing and sharing the beauty of nature continues to be Larry’s primary motivation.
lemiller49@gmail.com
John Nilsson
John has a fond memory of his father dragging him to the Denver Museum of Natural History on a winter Sunday afternoon. His father had just purchased a Bosely 35mm camera and he had decided he desperately wanted to photograph one of the dioramas of several Seal Lions in a beautiful blue half-light of the Arctic winter. The photo required a tricky long exposure and the transparency his father showed him several weeks later was spectacular and mysterious to John’s young eyes. Although the demands of Medical School made this photo one of the first and last John’s Dad shot, at five years old the son was hooked. The arrival of the digital age brought photography back to John as a conscious endeavor - first as a pastime enjoyed with friends who were also afflicted, and then as a practitioner of real estate and architectural photography during his 40 years as a real estate broker.
Since retiring and moving to Los Angeles, John continued his hobby as a nature and landscape photographer through active membership in the Sierra Club Angeles Chapter Camera Committee, as well as his vocation as a real estate photographer through his company Oz Images LA. The camera is now a tool for adventure! www.OzImagesLA.com
Velda Ruddock
Creativity has always been important to Velda. She received her first Brownie camera for her twelfth birthday and can’t remember a time she’s been without a camera close at hand.
Velda studied social sciences and art, and later earned a Masters degree in Information and Library Science degree from San Jose State University. All of her jobs allowed her to be creative, entrepreneurial, and innovative. For the last 22 years of her research career she was Director of Intelligence for a global advertising and marketing agency. TBWA\Chiat\Day helped clients such as Apple, Nissan, Pepsi, Gatorade, Energizer, and many more, and she was considered a leader in her field.
During their time off, she and her husband, Joe Doherty, would travel, photographing family, events and locations. However, in 2011 they traveled to the Eastern Sierra for the fall colors, and although they didn’t realize it at the time, when the sun came up over Lake Sabrina, it was
the start of them changing their careers. By 2016 Velda and Joe had both left their “day jobs,” and started traveling and shooting nature –big and small – extensively. Their four-wheeldrive popup camper allows them to go to areas a regular car can’t go and they were – and are –always looking for their next adventure. www.veldaruddock.com VeldaRuddockPhotography@gmail.com
Rebecca Wilks
Photography has always been some kind of magic for Rebecca, from the alchemy of the darkroom in her teens… to the revelation of her first digital camera (a Sony Mavica, whose maximum file size was about 70KB)… to the new possibilities that come from her “tall tripod” (drone.)
Many years later, the camera still leads Rebecca to unique viewpoints and a meditative way to interact with nature, people, color, and emotion. The magic remains.
The natural world is Rebecca’s favorite subject, but she loves to experiment and to do cultural and portrait photography when she travels. Rebecca volunteers with Through Each Other’s Eyes, a nonprofit which creates cultural exchanges through photography, and enjoys working with other favorite nonprofits, including her local Meals on Wheels program and Cooperative for Education, supporting literacy in Guatemala.
Rebecca’s work has been published in Arizona Highways Magazine, calendars, and books, as well as Budget Travel, Cowboys and Indians, Rotarian Magazines, and even Popular Woodworking. She’s an MD, retired from the practice of Obstetrics and Gynecology and Medical Acupuncture. She lives in the mountains of central Arizona with my husband and Gypsy, the Wonder Dog.
The Parting Shot
By John Nilsson
