Late Summer at Spud Lake

 

Late Summer at Spud Lake
12” x 18
Watercolor

Late last summer we got up with the birds so we could beat the heat for a short hike to Spud Lake. It’s one of our favorites, though the road out to the trailhead is a riot of rocks that requires a high tolerance for bumps.

The trail starts at a scenic pond and winds its way gently upward through aspens, then pine and fir. Each time we hike to the lake, it’s a different experience. The aspens are a canopy of spring green and as the seasons turn, they send cotton balls of seeds into the air that settle in thick and fluffy white clumps on the forest floor. As we move toward fall, their leaves turn wildly brilliant gold with hints of orange, dramatically contrasting against the evergreens.

The views are spectacular as you rise through the forest. And if you’re lucky, you might see a resident of the beaver ponds that lie along the way. There’s one last hill to climb before you arrive at the lake, and suddenly you’re treated to a deep blue mirror of the sky, rocky ridges, and trees that ring the water. The surface is nearly always smooth as glass, occasionally rippled by a fish kissing the underside of the surface.

Spud is not a big lake, but it gets high marks for its beauty! Its official name is Potato Lake, after the large tater-like mountain that rises on the west side. But locals fondly call it by its nickname. It’s always worth the bumpy ride to hike to this jewel of a lake one more time.

What I’ve been up to, Part 2

 

A Very Old Friend
8” x 10”
Relief Print

I was browsing through old sketchbooks when I came across a drawing I made several years ago. This weathered tree, stood near the beginning of the trail that takes you to the top of Mt. San Jacinto in California (a peak I hiked years later). 

To get to the trailhead, you travel between two different worlds. You must take the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway from the desert floor up and over the rugged and deeply cut Chino Canyon to a station at Mt. San Jacinto State Park, which sits at an elevation of more than 8,500 feet.

In just minutes, you move from the heat of the desert to the forest. And it is a stunning forest! Our hike to the top of Mt. San Jacinto (10,800+ elevation) was one of my favorite hikes.

The Process

Finding some success with smaller pieces, I moved to a larger 8” x 10” sized plate for this project. It took several sessions in the studio to cut the image. In fact, I think I had to scrap the first version and had to carve this image twice.

I have to say the anticipation is excruciating—not knowing whether it will turn out until you pull that first test print. And getting a good result requires the perfect amount of ink on the plate, the perfect paper dampness, and then, carefully and thoroughly rubbing the paper against the plate to fully transfer a solid image.

 

Winter Morning
8” x 10”
Multicolor relief print

Early one winter morning after a snow storm, we were traveling on a road that takes you through gently rolling hills of ranches and farms. It was a lovely morning and I admired the golden tufts of grasses determinedly poking through the blanket of white.

The clouds were incredible: billowy and purple, the bottoms heavy with moisture. A band of purple-black clouds drifted in front of them, while the sky above was a persistent blue. When we got home that day, I made color sketches from memory that I later used for this project.

This piece was an experiment in texture and pattern and learning how to manipulate ink opacity and value. The prints I made had a broad range of color intensity and coverage—no two were alike.

 

Diné Country    
10” X 8”
Multicolor Relief Print

This piece is taken from a photo I took on our way back from a trip to California between Shonto and Page, Arizona along Highway 98. This rock feature sits in the middle of an interesting canyon—it’s my favorite section of road. And, it looks different every time we see it. I have countless photos of it!

There’s something about coming back home to Colorado across the Navajo Reservation. I love the big skies, wild washes, and familiar mesas and mountains; we count the landmarks as we make our way home. When we see Sleeping Ute Mountain, it feels as though we’re nearly there.

I hand-colored one of the prints before experimenting with additional color plates. Here I continued to struggle with registration and the right amount of ink. It’s easy to squirt out more ink than you need—and dang!—it’s expensive!

 

High Country

20” x 16”

Acrylic on Canvas

Last summer we hiked a ways up the trail above Andrews Lake, which has a name that escapes me now. The first mile or so is steep, though mostly shaded, and the trail pops you out on a broad, open area where you’re treated to 360º views. There are a few sitting-height rocks that are perfect for a rest and to take in the scenery. It’s really spectacular and worth the slog up the hill.  

 

From here, the trail descends and passes a couple of beautiful ponds and then continues to do what most trails seem to do: go up and down and up and down. 

 

Aside from the incredible views, one of my most favorite things along the trail is a small pine growing out of a crack in a large rock. It’s on a section that winds down yet another hill. I think that little tree is your reward for hiking back up that hill on the way out. I remember huffing and puffing and pausing there, saying, “Wait, I want to look at this cute tree again,” while I caught my breath.

 

It was a beautiful day and the cool air of the high country gave us welcome relief from the summer’s heat. As we traveled through this area on our return, once the trail started down that last steep hill, the late afternoon’s heat rose to meet us once again.

 

This is one of those pieces I struggled with a bit...repainting one section several times, but in the end, it worked out, I think. 

P.S. Apologies for the bad photo. This painting is better "in person"!

Hop Valley Sunrise

Hop Valley Sunrise

11.5” X 10”

Acrylic on a reclaimed cabinet door - upcycling!

A few years ago, me and “the boys” (Clint and our two hiking buddies Bob and Peter), went on a backpack trip in Zion through Hop Valley down to La Verkin Creek. It was October, but still very warm, so the morning we hiked out, we loaded up our packs and hit the trail in the dark wearing our headlamps. 

The walk started with a steep climb out of the canyon and by the time we made it to the top and started to cross the narrow valley, the sun was up. But, the cliffs blocked the sun—so it took a while before the light hit the west side of the valley in a blaze of color. But when it did, it was spectacular. Something I will never forget.

Apologies to my hiking mates, who were ahead of me when I took the photo, I didn't include them in the painting. As usual, I was bringing up the rear.