When our car pulled into the Reflection Lake parking lot at the base of Mt. Rainier, the radiant glow of the clock indicated it was merely 4:30 in the morning. We had left Redmond a couple of hours earlier on an impulse to “watch sunrise at Rainier” and had made here in good time; at this unearthly hour, the roads were deserted, traffic lights turned green as we approached, there was nobody in the booth as we passed through the giant wooden entry arch of the nation park.
In the dark of the night, the massive peak was barely discernible. We knew it was there because we knew it was there. I plucked a flashlight out of my backpack and tried to pierce the darkness beyond the retaining wall of the parking lot to see if the lake had any water. High up on the shoulder of the mountain, a light blinked back at us. This time I angled the torch upwards and toggled the switch. On-Off-On-Off, careful that I did not signal any meaningful Morse. The light on the mountain winked back at us again. A watchful hiker at Camp Muir - an insomniac or an early riser or both – seemed like the only other human being awake in the area at that time.
There was not a spec of cloud in the sky. Mt. Rainier blocked all the city lights coming from North. Above us, nature had switched on every light in the house. As far as the eyes could see, from horizon to horizon, stars twinkled brightly against the dark satin of the sky, like diamonds scattered on a jeweler’s velvet – one rich jeweler this, going by the spread. The belt of the Milky Way was emblazoned across the sky. Amit pointed out the Big Dipper, the Big Dipper pointed outthe North Star. The Orion and Ursa Minor and Jupiter, they were all on the showcase. I have never seen a sky like this in Seattle. I have never seen a sky like this, period.
Then the sun announced it’s arrival. As if a kaleidoscope had been turned a notch, dark blue emerged from the pitch black and the stars wrapped up their show. We climbed down a slab of packed ice and setup our tripods at the edge of the water. Slowly the sun stripped the darkness off Rainier. The peak had looked dark and menacing a few minutes earlier, now it was suddenly a gigantic bowl of ice-cream. The sun burst above the horizon, throwing a golden sliver on the eastern side of the tip of Rainier. The crystal clear lake, its water so still that it could as well be a mammoth sheet of ice, caught the reflection and posed for us.
It is after we had shot continuously for a good 45 minutes that we realized how fresh and crisp the early morning air was.
Half a dozen times that I have visited Rainier in the last decade, I have returned back to the city from Paradise. Amit cajoled us to drive the 40 miles of single lane road replete with switchbacks to Sunrise Point. We stopped at the slot canyon and found a rock with a spot of sun on it. We unpacked our breakfast and wolfed down a big pile of cold spiced rice cooked in clarified butter with fresh onions garnished in sweetened yogurt. By the time we reached Sunrise point, the early birds were trickling in. Rubbing sun screen on pale shoulders, filing fresh water in stainless steel canteens, expertly lacing fancy hiking shoes - the crowd was getting ready for good climb on a good day – the last day of the season as we would later find out.
We slipped down a trail on the east that snaked through thick clusters of pine. Bees swarmed at our ankles, making the most of the freshly sprouted flowers. The fragrant meadow, lush with blazing flora against the astounding backdrop of the gorgeous Rainier, was a sight to behold.
This trip prompted an unforced pledge. A pledge to see more of Northwest and more often. After all, this is my backyard. Let’s see how it goes…
[Photographer’s Note: I have no experience photographing night skies. And it showed. I had my Nikon 300S on the tripod with my Tokina 11-16mm mounted. I has a wireless shutter release setup so that I could take long exposures without shaking the camera. I had turned off the VR too. There was no moon in the sky, so I was shooting as wide as I could. I set the focus at infinity. I had done everything by the book. Except that I forgot to switch my lens to manual focusing. Because of that, the lens tried to focus every time I engaged the shutter and I did not get a tack sharp picture. I also realized that keeping the shutter open for a minute or two gives a minor star trail – the stars a semi colon instead of a period – an effect that I was not wanting.]
[Also See : Night Photography at Mr. Rainier. Star Trails and Milky Way]
