Maroon Bells

I crossed something off of my nature photography bucket list this past Saturday -- sunrise at Maroon Bells. Like anything worth having, it took a little work -- specifically, getting up at 2:30 to make the 180-mile drive.  Whoever coined the phrase "you can sleep when you're dead" could vary easily have been inspired by a similar experience.

I actually made really good time, and was set up on the shore of Maroon Lake well before sunrise.  Good thing, because even before twilight the scene was magical.

Anyone who isn't sure how the peaks got the name Maroon Bells should see them before sunrise.  Question answered.

The Bells get all the acclaim, but other rock formations in the area are also striking.  This section to the north of the lake reminded me of Garden of the Gods.

Fellow photographer Andy Marquez warned me that the lake would be crowded for sunrise, and he was right.  There were probably a couple hundred hardy souls there for the event.  All the photographers were fairly courteous to each other.  When folks tried to set their tripods up in the water we kind of drew the line, though, and asked them to please move back to solid ground.

First light hitting the Bells was indeed magical.  Their color went from soft maroon to fiery red.

Once sunrise was technically over, the next order of business was mainly waiting for the light to reach the lake and illuminate all the stunning foliage on the north ridge, which was maybe a touch past peak.  The crowd thinned out considerably, leaving mainly "serious photographers" to chat with and snap occasional shots of the surroundings.

As the sun climbed higher the ripples in the lake also increased, impacting the reflection that had been so mirror-like earlier.  And, of course, other people took up position in spots you wished they wouldn't, but had no real right to ask them not to.

When you can't ask people to move, you just get creative with your composition and somehow manage to make it seem like you were the only one there.

Last shot at the lake, where I'd been for three hours.  The scene was definitely unforgettable, and something I'd actually love to bring the family to experience sometime.

But wait, there's more!  The foliage on Maroon Creek Road was absolutely peaking.  But it was like stuffing your face with the best chicken wings in the world for three hours, then on your way out being offered the best pizza in the world.  As much as you want some, you can only stomach a small taste.  That's the way my brain felt about the foliage.

A couple of obligatory snaps, and it was off in search of food and coffee.  I needed to recharge and let the images fade from my memory at least a little bit before driving to Crested Butte in search of more foliage photo opportunities!