Snowhere Trail

Story

Funny things happen up on top of mountains–funny things indeed. Mere mortals who are way down below sometimes can’t see what transpires, but when you’re at the top of the mountain, well, that’s a different story. Snowhere Trail is the result of one of those funny things happening.

One winter day I was up on Sandia Peak in the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico standing at 10,678 feet, enjoying the view. That is, if one could consider being incredibly cold “enjoyment”. If you’re familiar with me, you’ll realize that I rail against the cold quite often.

Yet, for some reason, I keep stepping out in it to make photographs. At any rate, the view was wonderful, although the skies were clear as a bell. As fate and circumstances would have it, a cloud decided to drift over the peak and enshroud it. The fog completely obscured the peak, taking the view with it.

I continued to stand in the cold, my fingers growing numb, then my hands, then arms, while at the same time my toes, feet and legs were joining the numbness. I was forced to find somewhere place and was just moving away when the cloud also began moving. Enduring the cold a few moments longer yielded Snowhere Trail.

The idea of a trail that leads to nowhere deeply intrigues me when I look at Snowhere Trail…does it continue on, around the mountain? Does it stop? Or maybe it leads off the edge of the world? No footprints lead down the trail to snowhere.

A personal note

This photograph is very personal to me. One day, my Dad was visiting me and curious how I created photographs. He said, “Let’s go take a photo!” I patiently explained to him that no, this was not how it worked at all. The conditions had to just right. The weather had to cooperate. There are so many things that simply must come together to create a fine art photograph.

He said, “Let’s go anyway” It was a clear blue day and totally pointless.

I sighed. There was little for it but head out. But where? Ah, the eternal question of where. I did the only thing I could and headed up the Sandia Mountains toward Sandia Peak.

The drive was beautiful, all the same, but nothing was going to work. That is, until we reached the top. There, against all odds, a single cloud formed and enveloped the peak. The go was beyond beautiful and with the snow-covered trees, Snowhere Trail came to life.

Turning to my Dad, I said, “There, that’s how you do it.”

Since my Dad is no longer with us, this piece is exceptionally poignant to me and precious for the memory. It is one of my all time favorite pieces.