truckers

the truckers own the Dalton, or the haul road, as they call it. built in 1974, the road (whichever name you prefer) was employed for getting supplies to Deadhorse and the oil fields on the North Slope, and was closed to pleasure traffic until the mid 90's . only 200 vehicles a day, at best, pass through this 414 mile corridor in the summer months.



mile 175, the trucker room at Coldfoot Camp



"Dalton Highway Truckers,
Thank you for slowing down
& pulling to one side
as you passed our pick-up.
We very much appreciated
your courtesy & professionalism.
We know you make your living
driving this highway & must find
all the tourist traffic trying,
so thanks are in order even
more so"


listening to Dinosaur Jr.

back at it

i'm back in Fairbanks in one piece after an insane amount of driving up on the Dalton this weekend. as always, that stretch of road delivered- stellar views, midnight sun, wildlife (a grizzly among others), interesting people and unusually mild weather. we, my good friend Martin (UAF biologist and writer), and I got as far as Galbraith Lake on the North side of the Brooks Range where we camped for the night. all in all a good trip.

photos? i completely lost the plot. it became grimly obvious well into the first day the enormity of my task, and my sheer ignorance to believe that i could even begin to make solid portraits, any images really, with the amount of time i was allowing myself. too much time in the car, and not enough behind the glass.

so, i'm back in town, back to the day job, and know that there are images up there that i need to make. frustratingly, i'm back from a trip having really gotten no further than before. although, i do feel a bit like a successful thief- one who has just 'cased the joint'. i know the road a little better. i can see the photos that i want to make. i can see the people, their expressions. their love, fear, misunderstanding, need of the Dalton. in large part i failed, but i take some solace in recognizing the next steps.

i haven't begun to cull through the images yet, but i know what's there. i'll begin posting some images later, and more thoughts on the Dalton. if for no other reason than to get my head straight.

one more thought- Jen Beckman has an inspiring post today which features video of Alec talking about portraiture. it's the last thing i wanted to see this morning to be quite honest, but after watching the videos.... is it possible to feel disappointed and energized at the same time?

heading north

i'm packing this morning for a trip North to make photos. the plan is to get as far as Atigun Pass this trip, but, as always, we'll see how things unfold. my nerves always go berserk on the the eve of a trip up the Dalton. i'm hoping for scores of truckers, a small handful of tourists, a cooperative scientist or two, and a team of successful hunters. too much to ask? regardless of the folks up North though, the backdrop is always breathtaking.

the last time I went just as far as the Arctic Circle. the weather was abysmal, but it was late in the year and i had expected a hostile environment. the sun will be with us this time - the sunrise is at 3:01am and sunset at 12:42am right now in Fairbanks, but will slowly grow to 24 hours of light as we approach Coldfoot

November:


Finger Mountain - east


somewhere north of the Yukon River

listening to Pavement

north

Martin and i had planned on doing a trip North this weekend, but the current temperatures here have pushed the trip back a week or two. It's been a paralyzing 40 below zero every morning this week, and my motivation has fallen with the temps. The car, cameras, and I don't work as well when the temps get that low.


the river at Yukon Crossing from my last trip in November

the Dalton

my trip north was a bit different than i expected. the unusually warm weather in Fairbanks had me believing there would be more life on the highway this weekend. it didn't take much driving to find a much more hostile Alaska, the kind we are used too, with much snow, wind, and no sun.

my quest to find interesting characters on my favorite stretch of road was fruitless, but the magic of the Dalton was enough. no tourists, hunters, floaters, mountaineers, motorcyclists, or biologists...no interesting characters. just me and the dogs.


the ravens were the only customers at the crossing today.


target practice


thick fog in the Yukon River valley

north

heading north tomorrow in search of interesting faces and landscapes. i've made a couple trips up the Dalton, only as far as Coldfoot, in the last several months. once with dea, and once for my "tundra & steel" essay for Matter.

i've been haunted lately with the faces on the Dalton. i've met some interesting folk up there, but left with only photos of their surroundings. this trip i will focus on the characters.

gotta pack...

Sunday

Rain again! Lifeless grey skies don't lend themselves much to photos. Every Sunday afternoon seems the same lately.

I mailed the pipeline essay to Todd on Thursday. Overall pleased with the images. I was able to share a few, briefly, with Charles, and he approved of two.


the edit before the final six were decided


an image that did not make the cut

Listening to new Twilight Singers

Back in Fairbanks

My trip North on the Dalton was a wet experience, but I am satisfied. It rained for the entire trip. I was disappointed at the start, but the paltry weather pushed me to find different perspectives. It's difficult shooting something that has been captured an infinite number of times. The challenge is depicting it in a unique way. I'm not sure if I fully accomplished that, but I am satisfied with the results.

I have edited the 200+ images down to 30, and will edit once more to choose the final 8 tomorrow. A few outtakes will find their way here later int he week no doubt.

Saturday I worked for quite a while in a burn area where the charred trees framed the pipeline nicely. The tundra beneath was where the real drama took place though. The color in the pools of water collecting between the tussocks of burnt ground were perfect.

packing

i'm packing for my trip to the arctic tonight. the lush tundra has been calling me all week, and i feel like a giddy little kid in anticipation. two, or so, days of driving, writing, exploring, and making photos. i hope to get on the other side of the brooks range, as i have not made it that far north before- we shall see.

it seems odd to think tonight about the desolation that is the haul road. today was a day of media gluttony for me. the terrorist attempts in the uk had me scooping up any, and all, information to digest. by this time tomorrow i will be venturing into a land without the luxury of radio and cell phone. not a moment too soon.


taken south of coldfoot in may.

listening to paul kelly.

photo lunch

i went to my first 'photo lunch' today. every tuesday a group of local photogs get together for lunch at pike's. it was a good group, but apparently small compared to previous weeks. i'll be interested to see what form this takes.

i was disappointed that Charles Mason wasn't there. i had spoken with him for the first time last week, and was very much looking forward to picking his brain about a thing or two. his absence was warranted however, as he got a call this morning from the New York Times to fly to Prudhoe Bay to cover the BP field shutdown.

my own plans to go to Prudhoe Bay this month have kind of shifted. my photo essay for Todd will take place this side of the Brooks Ranges instead. i will head toward Coldfoot on Friday for a couple days wandering in the shadow of the pipeline, making photos, and writing. as luck (that isn't quite the right word i know) would have it the oil field shut down would have limited my access on the slope tremendously, and the new slant puts a greater emphasis on my time with the pipeline itself. i'm anxious to journey north.

listening to sugar.

the north slope

currently, i'm composing a letter to two north slope oil companies- attempting to get clearance to the oil camps in july. i've been offered a great opportunity to do a photo essay for a publication that will go to print in december (much more on this later). this opportunity creates for me an urgency, and the means, to get involved in my good friend stacia's research (enormous thanks to her for facilitating the scope of this effort). as i've mentioned in a previous post- she studies ravens and their habitat in the oil fields. i'm intensely curious about her life in the field as she spends months on end in prudhoe bay studying, trapping, tagging, and communicating in a way with these elusive creatures. the reality of capturing the starkness that the oil architecture asserts against the tundra with a human interest is daunting. i'm excited to weave stacia's experience and writing with my eye.

this image was taken during time i spent with her and the ravens in the aviary on campus last march.



on a side note: stacia has spent some time on the north slope with national geographic photographer joel sartore. the cover of the may issue of ng sports one of joel's powerful north slope images. the ng site has the entire text in full as well- regardless of your opinion on alaskan drilling, i urge everyone to read this article. i'm more inspired than ever to make this trip north.

another side note: the new issue of dirt went online today. this online mag originated by artist brian lemond is consistently the best effort out there.

now, back to this letter.

listening to kexp.

the arctic

dea and i made a trip to finger rock, the arctic circle and coldfoot this weekend. we had never been this far north, and the experience was outstanding. it’s difficult, if not impossible, to explain what the north arctic is like. the expanse seems limitless- it’s a scene of endless horizons of black spruce, snow, frozen rivers, rock, and sky. at this latitude we are on the only road in Alaska. to the east and west: only wild land inhabited by an ancient culture and hearty souls.

as beautiful, and relatively untouched, as the north is however it only solidifies in me my obvious non interest in nature photography. i was excited for this trip into the vastness, and the remoteness and perspective moved me greatly, but, oddly, didn’t push me to shoot. i’m, no doubt, influenced by the land that surrounds me; however the land alone doesn’t inspire in me the image. it’s the people, and man made structures that break up this wilderness that inspire.

the 250 miles of mostly dirt road to coldfoot are void of virtually any structures- no broken barns, no mobile homes or ranches, no mailboxes or telephone lines. but, it’s the absence of these things which makes the arctic region so unique- the reason it must be preserved. nowhere else can one see so much, and so little. it was inspiring, humbling, but ultimately frustrating- i have become a creature that demands clutter.


the pipeline


a recovering burn


the question - "leave it or tow it?"