The Photography of Dr. Jeffrey P. Harper

On my early October drive from Sante Fe, New Mexico to the Formula One race in Austin, Texas, I stopped to visit the famous Carlsbad Caverns National Park in southern New Mexico.

 

During my childhood my family moved throughout the western states of the USA. I remembering seeing signs along Route 66 imploring passers-by to visit Carlsbad Caverns. I finally made it 50 years later!!!

 

I was not disappointed! I paid the entry fee and took the elevator to the depths of earth.

 

The cave is well-known for its many calcite formations such as this column and array of stalactites. (**)

 

Although I did not bring a tripod for these long exposure, low light photos, I was able to brace my camera on the guardrailings. Low light photography is my favorite.  [These are all ISO bracketed 3-shot captures from a Fuji X-T2 camera, post-processed in the Luminar HDR software. I was happy with the shadow detail and not having the brightly lit areas 'burned out.]

 

Giant columns of dripping calcite.

 

A 'waterfall' of stone.  Amazing.

 

The spiky ceilings were captivating.

 

I would not want to be down here in an earthquake!  First, you would be iimpaled by these needles and then crushed by the millions of tons of rock above you.

 

Some of my photos were dictated by the location of the guardrail. But it didn't matter: there was something interesting in every direction.

 

It was very dark inside the caverns (possibly to prevent the growth of mold).

 

Creepy, creepy formations everywhere.

 

A cascade of flowing rock . . . it seemed to be in motion . . .

 

The many 'off limits' side passages invited my curiosity . . .

 

The guardrails in this photo gives you an idea of how huge some of the large caverns were.

 

Nicely lit coves.  I am glad they used the same light tone throughout (The stalactite caves in Gibraltar succumbed to a revolving color wheel light effect . . . horrible!)

 

And deeper and deeper I went into the caverns . . . The climate of the caverns is described as "humid tropical" . . . I felt like I was back in Bangkok!  Nice!

 

And deeper and deeper I went into the cavern.  I visited in early October, so there were very few tourists on the day I visited. Normally, 450,000 people visit the cavern every year.

 

There was a crystal clear underground stream running through one of the big rooms.

 

The cavern path is several miles long.  At the other end were 2000 feet of stairs to reach the surface.  I made the decision to turn back after about a mile so that I could take the elevator back up. 

 

I had a wonderful two hours exploring the Carlsbad caverns. I highly recommend it . . . even if you have to wait 50 years.

Zion National Park is situated in southern Utah.

 

Remarkably photogenic landscapes around Zion . . . this may be one of the best photos I have ever taken . . .

 

The geology and topography of Zion National Park is truly fantastic.

 

We stopped often along the winding road to marvel at the rock formations.

 

Massive stone mountains.

 

A lone pine with a geological marvel as a backdrop.

 

I cannot imagine what geological forces created this formation.  AMAZING!

 

Around every curve in the road was another magnificent geological scene. WOW!

 

This road!

 

I love this scenery: pine trees nestled within desert rock formations.

 

Inexplicable shape and pattern.

 

Ancient trees among the desert mountain scenery: perfect.

 

Dry desert stone, a lone lizard . . .

 

A stack of giant stone pucks . . .

 

Yes, actual cactus in the desert . . . who knew?

 

A mix of many different geological formations . . . all overlapping.

 

Along the road that goes up and out of the park.

 

Just another grand and gorgeous landscape.

 

Zion must be a rock climber's dream! 

 

A desert stream falling through a rocky canyon.  So beautiful.

 

Three rocky peaks along the road . . .

 

Morning wild flowers.

 

The most popular part of the park are the deep, narrow orange canyons.  To access this part of the canyon you have to board a shuttle bus.  It's a good idea . . . it keeps the pollution down, and there would have to be huge parking lots in the narrow canyon.

 

The route to the park visitors center on the bus goes into an ever-deepening canyon.

 

Into the deep canyon . . .

 

More photogenic scenes than I had time to capture . . .

 

Sheer stone cliffs towering above the stream and greenery below.

 

Beautiful light on these carved cliffs . . .

 

Giant blocks of stone all around.

 

The trees contrasted against the backdrop of black and orange cliff faces was a magical sight.

 

Blackened cliff, greenery.

 

The Virgin River flows at the bottom of Zion Park canyon.

 

Many tourists visit Zion National Park every year.  The path up into the famous narrow gorges crosses this bridge.

 

It was a hot day in June, so some of the tourists were cooling off in the Virgin River.

 

Looking up the Virgin River from the bridge.  The path follows the river on the left bank up into the steep valley.

 

The path up into the park is well-worn by millions of tourists every year.

 

The path follows the Virgin River, offering wonderful views.

 

Up we went toward the "waterfall".

 

Hot tourists stopping to cool off to the steep uphill path.

 

Massive cliffs overhead at the "waterfall" - if you look closely you can see a trickle of water falling over the cliff.

 

The path under the "waterfall."

 

The "Waterfall."  The display at the visitors center said it was a massive waterfall in late spring and when sudden summer flash floods made the streams rage.  OK.

 

These squirrels and a few lizards were the only wildlife we saw.

 

And onward we hiked into the deep cliff-sided Virgin River valley.

 

The sight of these rapidly forming clouds convinced us not to go any further.  We headed back down the trail to the visitors center.

 

The walk back down was just as beautiful.

 

Such a pleasant walk in such grand Nature.

 

We grabbed a bite to eat at the visitors center and sat on the big lawn under a tall tree.

 

We purchased a bag full of Zion park themed tourist curious at the visitors center and headed for the tourist shuttle bus.

 

The shuttle system works very well in the park.

 

The views from the shuttle bus were fantastic too.

 

Back to the camper and a drive out of the park . . . with a few stops for more scenic grandeur.

 

Back at our hotel.  There was a small tourist town where we found a "cowboy steak house" - expensive, but delicious.

Bryce Canyon National Park is one of the great natural wonders of the world.   The area around Bryce Canyon was originally designated as a national monument by President Warren G. Harding in 1923 and was redesignated as a national park by the U.S. Congress in 1928.

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Out in the beautiful south Utah desert landscape.  Red rocks, wild geology, and hoodoos. . . . .

 

It was a very interesting drive up in altitude to Bryce Canyon National Park.

 

Roadside hoodoos.

 

Such scenic views on the road up to the park!

 

An old snag, perhaps a lightning strike, along the edge of the canyon.

 

Weathered red rock spires . . .

 

Strangely carved cliffs with inviting caves . . . 

 

The closer we got to the canyon, the more interesting things we saw.

 

Amazing geology.

 

The trail along the rim of Bryce Canyon offered many viewing points . . .

 

 . . . and grand views!

 

Amazing rock formations!

 

Thousands of wondrous stone spires into the distance.

 

Just incredible! NATURE!

 

If you look closely, you can see that there are many walking trails through the spires . .  sadly, we did not have time to walk any of them.  Next time.

 

Another burnt lightning snag along the rim trail.

 

A phenomenal sight!

 

Standing out on a promontory above the canyon.

 

Different color rock formations . . . 

 

An angry storm approached very fast.  At this altitude there are always summer thunderstorms.

 

A light ran began as we hurried back to the camper.

 

We made it back to the camper as the skies opened.

 

The Storm.

 

The Outer Hebrides are filled with archeological wonders!

Magnificent views around every corner of the winding single track roads!

 

Otherworldly scenes . . .

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Our journey from the mainland of Scotland began on a fine late June day in Oban harbour.

 

Our 10-day road and ferry trip began at our [then] home in Aberdeen, on the east coast. We spent six of those wonderful days out on the one-lane roads and ferry crossings of the Outer Hebrides.

 

The ferry out of Oban passes through a straight with views of the Isle of Mull on one side.

 

It was a gorgeous 4 hour and 45 minute ferry trip . . . it is important to book your ferry well in advance in the summer months, including the small inter-island ferries out in the Outer Hebrides.

 

Yes, I would live here . . . .

 

With so many islands off the west coast of Scotland, there are many small ferry routes.

 

History is everywhere along our route.  Castle ruins seem to dot the landscape.

 

Such a relaxing way to travel.

 

Time passed quickly and we found ourselves nearing Castlebay, the southernmost port on the Outer Hebrides, the Isle of Barra.

 

This castle sits in the bay of Castlebay . . . perhaps having something to do with the naming of the town . . . perhaps.

 

The castle in the bay of Castlebay is Kisimul Castle, dating from the late 16th century.  It is now leased to Historic Scotland Trust by the Clan MacNeil for 1 pound a year. It is a castle with an interesting history (see link).

 

We were called to the car deck just before docking in Castlebay . . . what a surprise to see several antique and collector cars there (they must have loaded after we did).   Perhaps there was a collector car rally . . . or they were returning from one.

 

We drove off the ferry and turned, stopped to take a look at where we had come from.

 

Castlebay has an 'End of the World' feeling of remoteness about it like no other place I have ever been.

 

We found our old hotel (it wasn't too difficult!) and checked in.

 

The view of Castlebay from our hotel room.  Very nice.

 

The sun stays up very late in June this far north.  I took a walk from our Craigard Hotel at 10:30pm.

 

From the hill behind our hotel I saw our ferry, reloaded, making its return voyage to Oban.

 

I sat in the evening gloom and watched the ferry pass out of sight.

 

An old church, Our Lady of the Sea, behind our hotel.

 

And off we drove up the west coast of the Isle of Barra.  Magnificent bay views, white sand and aqua waters.

 

Such a pleasant place.

 

My wife is an avid golfer, so of course we stopped in at the amazing Barra Golf Course.

 

Small yellow wild flowers, the sea, cows, and a fenced off putting green (to keep the cow paddies from becoming a 'green hazard'!!!). Lovely.

 

Cute . . .

 

Lobster/Crab pots along a rocky cove.  The scenery constantly changes.

 

Gorgeous scenes of island life, so connected to the sea.

 

We met these fine fellows along the road.  Highland cows.

 

The ever-present wet sheep.  We joked that all of the wool from the Outer Hebrides is already 'pre-washed.'

 

A vast stretch of the white sandy beach of a bay at low tide.  Barra Airport in the background.

 

The sight of the small airport drew our attention and we drove along the bay to take a better look.

 

Barra Airport is the only airport in the world with regularly scheduled flights that use a sand beach for a landing strip!

 

We went in the Barra Airport Terminal . . . for a cup of coffee and a snack.  While we were there many people started to show up.  There was a plane expected any minute.  We stayed to see the big event!

 

Someone called out, "There it is" . . . and we all turned to look at the airplane approaching from a distance.

 

Landing on the wet beach . . . 

 

The passengers disembarked onto a sandy runway . . . as they have been doing since 1936.  The only destination from this airport is Glasgow.

 

And onward we drove north on these marvelous one lane roads.

 

With sheep and Highland cows grazing everywhere, we encountered many of these 'cattle guards.'

 

At the northern tip of Barra Island we reached the Ardmhor to Eriskay ferry. There are 5 round trips a day, each carrying only 18 vehicles.  With only 90 possible places on this ferry to drive north up through the length of the Outer Hebrides, it is important to book in advance.  We had. 

 

We arrived at the ferry terminal a little early . . . which allowed me some time to explore the area.

 

Such a remote and fascinating place.

 

The sea always framed by outcrops of stone islands . . .

 

The passage between Barra Island and Eriskay Island was eerily mystical . . .

 

My memory of the passage was of the total silence . . . hardly a sound beyond the quiet thumping of the ferry diesel at work.  Calm.  Remote.

 

There was a bit of commotion among my fellow passengers.  Someone remarked, "Look. Seals."  And there they were.

 

A strange, captivating, natural beauty.

 

Arriving on the Isle of Eriskay.

 

Rocky, barren hillside . . . and the one-lane road that will take us further up the Outer Hebrides chain of islands.

 

We quickly crossed Eriskay Island and drove up and across a causeway to South Uist Island.

 

I absolutely loved driving on these narrow, winding, one-lane roads through this unique topography.

 

The remains of an old stone crofters house . . . and a stone tower on the hilltop.

 

Midsummer flowers, grey skies, dilapidated stone ruins . . . . The Isle of Lewis.

 

In and around mountain passes, sudden grand views out across the bays to the outlying islands.  Magnificent scenery.  Like no other place I have ever been.

 

Grand views like no place else.

 

Patches of light on the sea . . .

 

I am not usually partial to added photo 'artsy' technique, but this scene seemed to demand a sepia tone.  Amazing.

 

Driving up the small winding road along side a rushing stream . . . .

 

And around the bend at the hilltop . . . another magnificent view of a picturesque inlet . . . in the rain.

 

Wet sheep . . . everywhere . . .

 

Wild Hebridean stream running down out of the rugged hills.

 

Portrait of two wet sheep.  Why not?

 

We spent one night at the charming and remote Lochmaddy Hotel on North Uist Island.

 

Out along the rocky bay.

 

Rope mooring and stones.

 

Incredibly fascinating seaweed in a North Uist bay.

 

Wild flowers growing in the stony shore.

 

Leftover signs of fishermen long gone.

 

Off we went in the morning mist on the tiny roads . . .

 

A most unusual landscape.  I have never seen anything like it.  Fantastically beautiful. I always have a compunction to think I would love to live in one of those houses . . . but stop myself by thinking there would be nothing for me to do there.

 

We learned there was a good restaurant out in these soggywet landscapes.

 

More Hebridean wildlife!

 

And here and there, around a bend, a sudden, almost tropical, turquoise sea and white sandy beach.  Marvelous.

 

And around another bend a vale with deep cut peat harvesting in progress.

 

A tall smokestack . . . a monument to some previous industrial endeavor . . . all the way out here.

 

Driving the single track road in and out of the strange hills . . . always a new view . . . sometimes of a narrow bay dotted with small houses, a pier, and a fishing boat.

 

These views! The gloom!

 

We rounded a bend in the road and arrived at a tiny fishing village, Scalpay.

 

"The island used to have more than 10 shops over 30 years ago but due to lack of people and work, the last shop closed in 2007. There also used to be a salmon factory, which was a major local employer from 2001 until its closure in 2005. In the spring of 2009, local newspapers reported that the factory was to reopen as a net washing facility to support the local fish farming industry. In 2012, the Scalpay community bought and opened a community shop/café, Buth Scalpaigh."  We had a delicious lunch here with friendly service . . , soup, rolls, and fried fish.

 

Some fishing activity survives  these remote places along the craggy inlets of the Outer Hebrides.

 

People have to eat and people have to make a living.

 

Picturesque little fishing boats.

 

Crab or lobster pots . . . 

 

We drove North up into the Isles of Lewis and Harris.

 

An old tower keep on a crofters place.

 

An old whitewash, thatched-roof cottage on the dandy bay.  Charming.

 

A lovely old crofter's stone barn.

 

The views!  Literally around every bend in the road . . . so many stunning landscapes!

 

Mountains, light, sea, sky.

 

We diverted west, following a sign to Gearrannan Black House Village.

 

Gearrannan Black House Village

The Black House Village was a well-preserved museum of old thatched stone houses.

 

The houses here are all occupied . . . one is even a bed and breakfast . . . if we had only known!!!

 

Beautifully detailed construction craft.

 

An unbelievably picturesque place.

 

The village served as fishermen's cottages on a small bay.

 

We strolled around this wonderful place for hours. 

 

I have to confess: I took over 100 photos here . . . I couldn't help myself, I was overcome by the charming beauty.

 

An historical marker on one of the black houses.  Fascinating.

 

Out along the seaside west coast road of the Isle of Harris. A crofters barn, freshly thatched . . . and still in use.

 

The houses here are very simple and austere . . . almost no decoration at all.

 

There are many abandoned houses in the west of these islands.  There has been a steady drop in population as younger people move to towns and cities on the mainland of Scotland for jobs.  However, some of the old houses are being restored by pensioners from as far away as London.

 

And on and on we went . . . north to see an amazing landmark  . . .

 

Out on a remote stretch of the north of the Isle of Lewis, more abandoned crofters cottages.

 

The views became more fantastical, otherworldly.

 

At last we had arrived at our destination: The Callanish Standing Stones!

 

I have been to Stonehenge, but these were far more magnificent! 

 

"The first traces of human activity are indicated by a broad ditch (no longer visible above ground) which appears to have belonged to some structure or enclosure. This may have been ritual, but could instead have been domestic. In the centuries around 3000 BC, however, the site was turned over to agriculture, which obliterated most of the earlier traces. After this, the site was allowed to grass over for a time." -  Callanish Standing Stones

 

The stones sit on a hill with awesome views.

 

Under a stunning, ever-changing sky . . . the sun popping through now and again.

 

Magic.

 

A view from the standing stones.  Imagine living in a farm like this . . . in this place.

 

We stayed a lovely evening at the Harris Hotel, Isle of Lewis and Harris.

 

Ah! Harris tweed that way!

 

Only tweed that has been woven on the Isle of Harris can be called Harris tweed.  It is famous all over the world.

 

When I lived in London many years ago, I had a very nice Harris tweed sport coat.  I tried several of these on . . . but they felt too old fashioned . . . and professorial.

 

The winter nights on the Outer Hebrides are long, dark, cold, and windy.  Local residents have spent the dark months weaving the distinctive tweed the island is famous for on these looms.

 

We eagerly explored the few small villages out on the islands.  A nice cup of coffee and scones was very welcome.

 

We always stop whenever we see a "craft sale" sign.  You never know what amazing things you might find . . . and we have found and purchased many fantastic things on our world travels in these kinds of places . . . but not at this place.  We always try to buy something, but could not find a thing we wanted here.  Sorry ladies.

 

After five days on the small roads, we eventually made it to the very tip top of the chain of islands that make up the Outer Hebrides.  And we were not disappointed!

 

Fantastic cliff top views at the northernmost tip of the Hebrides.

 

A lighthouse sits at the tip of the Isle of Lewis and Harris.  This man rode his bicycle all the way from his home in London, England.  He was going to turn around here and ride back down the east coast to get home.

 

We drove back along the north coast as much as possible toward Stornaway and our ferry back to the mainland of Scotland.

 

In Stornoway with our waiting ferry . . . but not until morning of the next day.

 

Lews Castle on Stornoway yacht harbour.

 

We explored the small town of Stornoway. I loved this old weathered rusty loom sitting outside a tweed museum.

 

The next morning we joined the line-up at the ferry terminal for our passage home.  Again, in the rain, there were many old classic cars waiting, including this Delage.

 

Heading home on the big ferry.

 

I spent most of my time on the return ferry trip sitting out n the wind on the aft deck.  Glorious.

 

Arriving in Ullapool Harbour after a 3 hour cruise.

 

Harbour Street Ullapool.

 

We stopped halfway home between Ullapool and Aberdeen at a rural hotel that turned out to be on a tour bus company hotel with a HUGE dining room full of French and Hungarian bus tourists.  It was loud and fun!

 

We walked around the small village near the tourist hotel and discovered the Highland Museum of Childhood . . . an interesting name.  It was closed . . . like my childhood.

 

All the houses in the village were named. Ulva . . . named after an island in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland, off the west coast of the Isle of Mull.

 

The next morning we were off down the Scottish country roads toward our home in Aberdeen.