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| Bison bull |
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| Bighorn rams |
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| This was a fun Grizzly. A group of us photographers were waiting for a pair of wolves to return to an elk carcass. As we waited, this beautiful bear surprised us. She must have walked within 15 yards of me and some other guys, startling us, to say the least. But she made her way across a river, and then walked along this trail, where we were able to get some nice shots of her. |
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| Same Grizzly as above |
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| The eyes are a window into the soul. And, certainly, Bison have souls. I wonder what he'd say if he could speak to me... |
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| I was driving through near Canyon Junction when I came upon a small Bison herd. It was raining, and I hadn't had much to shoot at that day. So, I pulled off where this pair were putting on a decent show of head butting. Of course, when I got stopped, they also stopped, but I liked this image; almost a mirror image. |
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| Photographers sometimes do stupid things, in order to get good photographs, or photographs at all, as it turns out. I knew of a sow Grizzly, who would make her way down into this pretty valley in the mornings, her 2 cubs trailing behind. The problem was, that valley was still 500 yards off of the beaten path, out of reach of a decent telephoto lens. Sure, I got some shots, but nothing close to being print-worthy. I decided to make a plan; I'd get to that area long before anyone else did (in the dark), and I'd hike out to just off the valley, within 80-100 yards of where that mama Grizzly had been hanging out. The next morning, I arrived at this place, very early. I was indeed the first one there. I wore my camo rain gear, so I'd be dry, and inconspicuous. I hiked out to what I thought was a great spot, and set up my tripod and camera in the limbs of this great big, fallen pine. "Perfect," I thought. I stood there for over an hour, quietly. I noticed a couple of cars pull up, back out at the road, from where I had viewed the sow the day previous. But they had no idea where I was; I was hundreds of yards away, and well-hidden. I waited, and watched, and waited, and watched some more. No sign of the Grizzly family I was waiting for. Without warning, from behind me, a big boar Grizzly ran into the little meadow I was now watching. Startled, but excited, I hit my shutter button and started shooting. The Grizzly stopped about 50 yards from me, and looked around; he couldn't see me, but he could most definitely hear my shutter clicking away, and was trying to figure it all out. I was growing ever nervous, now that he was paying attention to my direction. I hadn't packed any bear spray (REALLY STUPID), and my pistol in the car would do me no good out here (I'd hate to be the guy who shot a bear anyway). With the bear still curious about me, I let my finger off the shutter, and got ready to back out of there, slowly. (Boy was I ever fighting the instinct to run, knowing full-well, I'd become a Grizzly's breakfast if I did.) After about 2 minutes of quiet, the big bear started to move up the mountain, away from me; he seemed very intent, and I had only slowed him up. Well, realizing how bad that all might have gone, I packed up and got out of there. Back to the road for me. When I arrived at the road, I began talking with the other photographers who had now been there a good while. I didn't tell them where I had been. (I was feeling a little dumb by then.) One guy had a 600mm lens and a 1.4X teleconverter; he was serious. I started shooting the breeze with him, and daydreaming about the day I might have such an expensive rig. I looked up the mountain, and could see a dark bear sitting, and a blonder bear trucking up and over the peak as fast as she could move. I asked the guy next to me if I could peak through his camera and lens to show him what I was seeing. What I found was a little tragic and sad, though that's often the way nature plays out. That big male I had encountered, and who had seemed to intent on getting up the mountain, had gone up and gotten hold of one of that mama's cubs. And that blonder bear, I believe, was the mama, running to save herself and her other cub, having lost the one. I was heart-broken. Well, sometimes nature isn't "pretty." I don't like thinking about that cub being attacked and killed by the large male. But male Grizzlies are known to do that, in order to bring the females into estrus, and also to ensure that their own genes are the only ones being passed on. I will say that I'm glad Yellowstone is wild enough for nature--even the ugly stuff--to play out. |
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| Male Red Fox. |
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| This was a great surprise. I stopped when I saw this coyote hunting ground squirrels, just off the road a bit. When I got out, and watch him catch one and eat it, I saw this badger come up behind him. My first thought was, "Oh man! I'm going to get some amazing shots of a standoff between these two!" I was extremely excited at that prospect, especially since I had just missed a fight between a female fox (the mate of the male above) and a badger. I was completely caught off-guard to see these two were actually partnering up and tag-teaming the squirrel holes. They each showed zero animosity toward the other. There were simply working as a partnership. The one would check one hole, and the other would check or wait by a possibly escape hole. It was fascinating. |
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| Bull Bison, Slough Creek |
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| This Grizzly came strolling down a hill, where I had been set up, trying to get some shots of some baby badgers on a den. He came within 25 yards of me. He locked eyes with me just for a moment, but never stopped walking. He headed over to Slough Creek, jumped into the river, swam across and got out the other side, and then carried on up and over a hill. These are the moments I live for. |
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| 2012; This was the first time I had ever photographed--or seen--a baby Sandhill Crane. Pretty awesome to see this little family. |
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| Turkey Vultures. |
