Collodion 365: Exploring the San Luis Valley - To Great Sand Dunes National Park

After shooting the plates of the Arkansas River, I joined Joe in Salida to discuss our next destination. We both wanted very much to reach Wheeler Geological Area in south-eastern San Luis Valley. However everything we read about the ride stated that the trail would be impassable if wet. The weather forecast didn't look good at all for that area, with 80 % chance of rain... Bummer!

So, we decided to head to Great Sand Dunes National Park in the south east corner of the valley. Not wanting to ride on the pavement, Joe had concocted a route that would parallel Hwy 285 and would be 100% dirt. I will now refer to this itinerary as the trail from hell or hell trail or the toughest and least enjoyable ride of my short life as a motorcycle rider.

It started pretty well - as a bucolic ride among cows - but the trail quickly became very faint and incredibly rough. It oscillated between sandy patches and rock fields. It became obvious that the trail hadn't been used by any motor vehicle in the past couple decades, at least. Here and there, on the side of the trail, we saw the bleached bones of long-gone adventure riders...

I was closed to falling and being crushed between my bike and rocks at least three times. On one occasion, I had to sacrifice my left leg in order to stay upright. After about 1 hour and a half of intense concentration and 10 gallons of cold sweat, we stopped at a gate, only to realize that I had lost my cooler. This was a terrible loss since it contained the majority of our food. Joe looked at me, saw the distress and weariness in my eyes (there was no way in hell I was going back through what we had just done) and volunteered to go back to for it. What a pal!

I found myself alone in the middle of wide-open spaces, not a tree is sight, only shrubs around. And a little creek in which I could refresh my wary feet...

A lonely motorcycle.

Clouds started moving in the valley from the north.

An hour later, my relief at not riding back turned into worry about Joe - I could visualize him laying on the ground, chipmunks gnawing at his eyes, cows slurping his brains, ants and other bugs entering all of his orifices, two lifeless fingers clenching at my cooler's handle... Poor Joe.

These were my thoughts when two silhouettes appeared at the horizon and slowly came my way. Someone had come to rescue me!

When the two figures passed the gate, I briefly questioned my sanity for I could see two of the same man on two different horses... Twin cowboys! What a treat. Looking back, I cannot believe that I didn't take my camera out to photograph them. I must have been too worried for my partner. I quickly asked them if they had seen my friend's body anywhere. They gently answered: "no speaking English"... That proved a little conundrum since I no hablo espanol. We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders and they went on. I am sure Joe is ok...

A few minutes later, I could hear a bike raving; Joe appeared shortly thereafter, unharmed. My cooler was dangling from his bike; it had rubbed on the back tire and had lost half of its cover:

We still used the cooler for the remaining of the trip

Joe had no problem with the ride (I think he even had fun), but was assaulted by a bull and lived is own version of Spain's running of the bulls.

Reunited, we decided that enough was enough and that we should find pavement ASAP. We connected with Hwy 17 and blasted through the last 50 miles to Great Sand Dunes National Park. We got there around 6pm. The light was gorgeous, the dunes magnificent but it was little late to set-up for collodion. And let's face it I was exhausted by our harrowing ride. So, I deferred my WPC photography session to the following evening and had fun with my digital camera.

Who could resist the interplay of shadow and light?

A lovely sunset.

Panorama of dunes at night. This is a composite of 6 10-minute exposures. I got to hang out for an hour, in the dark, by the side of the road in the campground, sipping a little whiskey.

Fire and sand.

Next morning we went on a leisurely hike along Medano creek, took some pictures of the sand formations and of the peculiarities of the creek.

Early morning clouds.

The wind had carved the banks of the creek into geometrical forms.

Medano Creek

In the afternoon we visited Zapata Falls, 15 miles south of the national park. It was a lovely area. The Falls come down a crack between rocks and the stream seems enclosed in a tunnel for the next few yards. An arresting sight.

In mid afternoon clouds started to form, the light dimed and crows flew away, people took shelter in their cars and RVs. I still thought I might be able to make a few plates and took all my gear to the dunes. I never unpacked my shit though, because lightning started to strike the top of the dunes and winds picked up drastically.

Time to head back to my tent and drink my sorrow and frustration away.

The next day, I got up at 5:30 am and head down once again to the parking area nearest the dunes. (I couldn't leave this place without at least trying to shoot a few tintypes!!!) I spent the next two hours "chasing the light", a cliché that has never been as true as this early morning when I had to move at the speed of light in order to keep up with it and capture the shadows that would reveal the sensual forms of this unique landscape. My plan was to make a multi-plate panorama of the Great Sand Dunes. Because the light was changing so fast, I only had time for one plate per composition. On my third tintype I ran out of water and had to grab more from my bike while my plate was in the wash between developer and fixer. That was a mystake. Part of the plate got exposed to air, which created the artifacts that you see. Unfortunately I still had to move to the next framing if I wanted to have a chance to complete my panorama. Shadows were disappearing so quickly.