Hiking Bassi Falls, part 2. Waterfall Photography.

Eldorado National Forest, California
Friday, 16 Jul 2021. 3pm.

When we visit Bassi Falls we try to spend some time above the falls as well as below it. In my previous blog I shared notes and pictures from below the falls... and, well, partly up it, which I was able to climb this time because the water flow is so low in this record-setting drought year. The flow was so low that a few spry kids actually climbed all the way up the boulders to the top of the falls. I didn't feel like replicating their rock-scrambling— especially not with the weight of my nice camera, lens, and tripod in my pack. Hawk and I instead scrambled up the ridge following a route around to the left side that was just slightly less vertiginous.

This quiet pool fed by a trickling waterfall is normally lost under a crushing flow of water

The route we took to the top of the waterfall is one that works even in heavy flow years. Still, it's a scramble. The reason I don't have pictures is that I was too busy holding on to the rocks or helping Hawk up to pull out my camera. But once I got near the top where the route starts to level off a bit I spotted opportunities that are revealed only during this abnormally dry year. Near the top of the falls a few small swimming holes were exposed. Normally these are hidden beneath a crushing torrent of water; but this summer, they're tranquil little oases.

When the crushing torrent of water is reduced to a trickle, new beauty emerges

For the first two pictures in this blog (and the last one in my previous blog) I used the camera tripod I lugged along in my daypack. There were times during the hike when I questioned my decision to bring along its weight and bulk. Being able to shoot these satiny falls pictures requires stabilizing the camera during exposures of 1/10 up to 1/4 second. The camera isn't moving, the rocks aren't moving, but the water is: thus it's an isolated motion blur.

Another big of camera gear that's crucial to capturing this kind of picture is a neutral density (ND) filter. Shooting long exposures means a lot of light enters the lens. Lenses have built-in diaphragms, measured in units called F-stops, that can be "stopped down" to allow less and less light to pass. Typically a lens's narrowest opening is f/22. Even that lets in too much light on bright sunny California days like today. Plus, narrowing the diaphragm past a certain point induces an effect called diffraction that (among other things) makes pictures look out of focus. F/22 is already at the point of diffraction— and it's still not dark enough! Enter the ND filter.

An ND filter is a piece of glass that darkens the light passing through. ND filters are categorized by how many "stops" on the lens diaphragm they replace. A common type is a 3-stop filter. It transmits just 1/8 (1/2^3) of the light. That means a picture you'd otherwise have to stop down to f/22 to take you can take at f/8, which is at the edge of most lenses' "sweet spot" of image quality. (The difference between f/22 and f/8 is 3 stops. Yeah, the math is weird because those f-numbers work on a times-the-square-root-of-2 basis.)

Good filters are pricey because quality materials are necessary to provide the desired effect evenly across the screen and avoid unwanted effects— most notably a color tint. The "neutral" part of ND means color-neutral. That's the goal, anyway. Buy a cheap filter and YMMV. The filter I'm using this trip is extra-pricey because in addition to having high quality glass it's also adjustable. I can turn a dial to increase the light filtering from 2 stops (transmits 25% of the light) to 5 stops (transmits just 1/32 the light). In the past I've used good filters that were fixed at 3 stops. With full California sun at midday I needed the extra 2 stops of adjustable range this filter offers.

Update: More pictures ahead in part 3!

Hiking Bassi Falls, part 3. Drought and Solitude.

Eldorado National Forest, California
Friday, 16 Jul 2021. 3:30pm.

For as short a hike as Bassi Falls is I'm partly surprised my blogging about our visit this year has stretched to 3 entries. I'm also partly not surprised because for such a short hike Bassi is pretty darn epic. During our first visit in 2017 we caught "granite fever" here. Well, this trip after writing about the hike and the low water due to drought in part 1, and how I captured rare photographic opportunities in part 2, I'll wrap it up here by talking about the solitude. And a bit more about the drought.

We had these cascades and little swimming holes exposed by the low water largely to ourselves

In previous years when we've hiked to Bassi Falls the area has been thronged with visitors. I don't begrudge anyone their visit; it's a beautiful place, so I understand why they come. All the same, it's a minus sharing the experience with dozens of other people.

Today, this trip, we had the falls largely to ourselves. That's not to say the place was empty. I estimate we saw about 20 people today. But most of them came and went quickly while we lingered. And only a few of them explored around to find the oasis-like swimming holes exposed by the low water flow.

In past years Bassi Creek has been a rushing flow 30-40' wide here. This year we enjoy the stark beauty of the dry creek bed instead.

Speaking of low flow, I'll say again that the lack of water does make this place less picturesque, it just makes it differently picturesque. In the photo above we're walking the stretch of Bassi Creek above the falls. In past years the creek's swift waters spread 30-40' wide over the granite creek bed we're walking in. This year the creek is reduced to a trickle inside a narrow notch. The starkness is its own form of beauty. In beauty I walk.