David Noton
Arches & Canyonlands national parks, Utah, USA. February 2013 The epic desert landscapes of Utah truly are a sight to behold – or would be, if it would only stop raining, complains David Noton
It all works out in the wash for David, as five days of nonstop rain gives way to snow in the desert.
Everyone in the bar, apart from me, is wearing either a baseball cap or a
Stetson. I feel out of place, and, it has to be said, pretty ropey. As Wendy drove me to Heathrow I knew I was coming down with the lurgy and, sure enough, I felt progressively worse as we flew over Greenland. I’m now here in Denver en route to the red rock landscapes of Utah. My burger bun is soggy and I’m not having the most scintillating evening, but then the first night of a trip rarely is. I end up in bed snotty and jet-lagged by 7pm.
The next day I drive on towards the Utah border where the cloud settles low and visibility deteriorates. I’m wheezing and spluttering as the snow turns to rain. Moab in the gloom looks bleak and depressing and I briefly wonder what I’m doing here. I know from my visit 20 years ago this town is surrounded by the most epic scenery, even so I sense the low point of the trip is nigh. I check into the motel feeling dreadful. Yet again I’m in bed by 7pm. The travel photographer’s life is a glamorous one.
Day three and I’m wandering around Moab trying not pitch headlong on the lethal black ice. Freezing rain is falling and the low grey cloud reminds me of Wales on a November’s day. In the Visitor Centre I’m taunted by the pictures on the wall of Arches and Canyonlands in gorgeous light. Back in my room I Skype Wendy; hoping she’s not about to tell me it’s lovely at home.
Five days into the trip and not a pixel has been exposed. The weather is even worse and I’m getting decidedly twitchy, the meter is running and costs are mounting with nothing yet to show for it all. I have to get out and about today whatever, cabin fever is setting in. At the gates to Arches National Park I pay my entrance fee and drive up into the landscape of strangely shaped red rock. Up here the rain has been falling as snow so I stop at the first pull in as, in the distance, the first glimmer of sunlight penetrates the low cloud. Within a few minutes the whole scene is transformed, with the sun glistening off the fresh snow. My shutter chatters and spirits soar; this is what I came for.
Day 10 and I’m driving back to Moab after another epic session at Dead Horse Point, ecstatic. In the morning I shot the deep gorge of the Colorado River bathed by crystal-clear first light and dusted with snow, and in the evening I photographed Canyonlands from the Island in the Sky, utilising a long lens perspective to really emphasize the grandeur of the landscape. So often I find the tight angle of view of a telephoto portrays the scale of the landscape better, particularly one so vast as here. This morning, however, a wider view, featuring the graphic shape of a twisted hawthorne tree on the lip of the gorge, worked a treat as foreground interest. On this trip, as usual, I’ve used every lens from a 14mm super-wide-angle to the 400mm long tom; they all have their uses.
Utah in winter has been just so evocative; a rich photographic playground I’ve had virtually all to myself. In the bar, which has rapidly become my local, the chirpy barmaid serves me the local brew, Polygamy Porter; why have just one? My Man Flu has miraculously vanished and the gloom of the first five days is forgotten; life is good. All it took was a few exposed pixels.