Sometimes it’s as much the places you stop that are as important as the places you go. When traveling, I cherish finding those campgrounds that reward you for staying there, where the beauty that greets you in the morning as you crawl out of your tent sets the stage for the explorations to come. There are a few that are consistent g0-to places for me whenever I travel, the Fruita Campground in Capitol Reef, South Campground in Zion, and the Lodgepole Campground in Sequoia, for example, each of which offer amazing access to the best their parks have to offer combined with awesome natural beauty in camp itself. However, in all my travels, I’ve never found a campground that offers a better morning wakeup than the Tuolumne Meadows Campground in Yosemite National Park.
Sometimes it’s as much the places you stop that are as important as the places you go. When traveling, I cherish finding those campgrounds that reward you for staying there, where the beauty that greets you in the morning as you crawl out of your tent sets the stage for the explorations to come. There are a few that are consistent g0-to places for me whenever I travel, the Fruita Campground in Capitol Reef, South Campground in Zion, and the Lodgepole Campground in Sequoia, for example, each of which offer amazing access to the best their parks have to offer combined with awesome natural beauty in camp itself. However, in all my travels, I’ve never found a campground that offers a better morning wakeup than the Tuolumne Meadows Campground in Yosemite National Park.
There are few sights more emblematic of the National Parks and the American wilderness in general than the view from the Glacier Point Overlook in Yosemite National Park. From the edge of the cliff, you can see almost 180 degrees of the Yosemite Valley, from Yosemite Falls to the west, over to Half Dome and Nevada Falls to the East, the expanse of the upper end of the Main Valley stretches out in front of you, and it’s hard not to be in awe of the view.
There are few sights more emblematic of the National Parks and the American wilderness in general than the view from the Glacier Point Overlook in Yosemite National Park. From the edge of the cliff, you can see almost 180 degrees of the Yosemite Valley, from Yosemite Falls to the west, over to Half Dome and Nevada Falls to the East, the expanse of the upper end of the Main Valley stretches out in front of you, and it’s hard not to be in awe of the view.
There’s something about the granite walls of the Yosemite Valley that make it ideally suited to black and white photography. Perhaps its the association with the works of Ansel Adams, my first introduction to the park, or the way the cracks and crevices in the rough-hewn rock accentuate even the smallest shadow. Whatever it is, I find myself fighting the urge to shoot everything in black and white when I’m in Yosemite, and it’s a matter of willpower to find elements of color in many cases to force myself to highlight them.
There’s something about the granite walls of the Yosemite Valley that make it ideally suited to black and white photography. Perhaps its the association with the works of Ansel Adams, my first introduction to the park, or the way the cracks and crevices in the rough-hewn rock accentuate even the smallest shadow. Whatever it is, I find myself fighting the urge to shoot everything in black and white when I’m in Yosemite, and it’s a matter of willpower to find elements of color in many cases to force myself to highlight them.
There is something profoundly peaceful about sitting on the banks of the Merced River in Yosemite Valley listening to the slow rush of water and staring out at the towering granite cliffs and domes that rise out of the valley floor. It’s impossible not to be captivated by the scenery, transfixed by your surroundings.
There is something profoundly peaceful about sitting on the banks of the Merced River in Yosemite Valley listening to the slow rush of water and staring out at the towering granite cliffs and domes that rise out of the valley floor. It’s impossible not to be captivated by the scenery, transfixed by your surroundings.
Sometimes it’s worth getting up before sunrise on a cold October morning, with storm clouds moving in and the bite of the autumn chill penetrating even your warmest layers. In 2013, I pulled myself out of my tent at Tuolomne Meadows despite the frigid conditions and made my way down the Tioga Road to Olmsted Point, a brilliant overlook across the heights of the Sierras down into the eastern end of the Main Valley of Yosemite National Park. The billowing clouds parted as the sun rose letting a sliver of light in to kiss the top of Half Dome, creating a pastel glow to the sky and surrounding mountains, and allowed me to capture this photo which almost resembles a painting.
Sometimes it’s worth getting up before sunrise on a cold October morning, with storm clouds moving in and the bite of the autumn chill penetrating even your warmest layers. In 2013, I pulled myself out of my tent at Tuolomne Meadows despite the frigid conditions and made my way down the Tioga Road to Olmsted Point, a brilliant overlook across the heights of the Sierras down into the eastern end of the Main Valley of Yosemite National Park. The billowing clouds parted as the sun rose letting a sliver of light in to kiss the top of Half Dome, creating a pastel glow to the sky and surrounding mountains, and allowed me to capture this photo which almost resembles a painting.
