HAVASUPAI REBORN, by Kerrick James

Havasu Falls and Rainbow

Havasu Falls and Rainbow

The landscape of the Colorado Plateau is ephemeral, a changeling, although to beings with short life spans this land seems immutable, a constant. But in canyon country stunning changes can occur in a single afternoon, altering the course of a stream, stranding a waterfall, even creating a new unheralded cascade. Thus, it has always been in Havasupai, named for the people of the blue-green water.

Havasupai, the mythic side canyon hidden well to the west of the South Rim summer mayhem and adjoining Grand Canyon National Park, has always been near the top of my favorite locations to photograph. I’ve been lucky to shoot this desert Shangri-la a dozen times since the late 70’s, with a progression of cameras from 4×5 to 67 Pentax to a variety of digital formats. For years I blithely assumed that the interwoven terraces of travertine below each of the three great waterfalls, Havasu, Navajo, and Mooney, would always be there to compose as one of the most artistic foregrounds imaginable.

Havasu Falls in autumn.

Havasu Falls in autumn.

But in the mid-90s a major flash flood swept the canyon, ripping out the majestic rills of travertine, and though they grew again over the years they never regained their prior perfection. In August of 2008 a nearly catastrophic flood changed the course of Havasu Creek, turning secluded Navajo Falls to dust. But the perennial waters are yet lovely beyond belief, turquoise except during storms, and paradise has slowly been reborn.

My spring 2013 hike to Havasupai was a desire to see how the fabled canyon had recovered, how the familiar waterfalls had fared, and to explore the two new falls gifted us by that epic event, five year’s past. What I found was still pure magic, with scenes both grand and intimate, and wondrous beauty to photograph everywhere you turn. Of course, being an adventure shooter, I had to spice it up, so I brought a kayak. Really.

Havasu Falls in spring stormlight.

Havasu Falls in spring stormlight.

We all grow as photographers over the years, seeing more acutely and sharpening our technique. But Havasupai seems somehow to offer the gift of extra time. Here the hours feel slower, richer and allow for reflection. In several languid days you can shoot the falls from dawn shadow light throughout the long day into starlight, as I did. And then you can do it again and again, doing variations of exposure (to fine tune the action and detail of the flowing waters) discover new compositions, and so much more.

For example, I had always dreamed of shooting Havasu Falls under the stars, lit by moonlight. But on this trip the tight canyon walls blocked the half moon, so I combined my warm LED light with a standard cool LED wielded by a friend, and over three nights finally made the images that had haunted my dreams. Patience is key with light painting. I liken it to burning and dodging in the darkroom, adding to and withholding light from your canvas of pixels, only you’re playing in real time and space. The exposure equation is complicated by fast diminishing light in the twilight sky above the falls, and by the constant adjustment of both ISO and actual exposure time.

Havasu Falls at night.

Havasu Falls at night.

My favorite Havasu Falls star images were shot in the range of 30-45 seconds at f/5.6, at ISO 800, with 12-14mm focal lengths on my Pentax K-3. You can shoot from the trail above the falls or beside the falls, but be wary. When shooting near the falls the spray can precipitate calcium carbonate on your front lens surfaces, and your eyeglasses too. I use older UV filters to protect the delicate lens coatings, and bring a hand towel to wipe off the persistent water blowing your way. An ounce of prevention is worth, well you know the rest! And obviously this requires a quality tripod matched to the combined weight of your camera and lens, plus a release to do long exposures. LED lights and extra batteries complete the kit, and all you need then is a clear night sky to make some magic.

Fern grotto below Mooney Falls.

Fern grotto below Mooney Falls.

Just to the left of old Navajo Falls was a green misty watery groove we called the Grotto. A small but realistic slice of Hawaii concealed in the parched Southwest, it was overwhelming in both beauty and mystery and is now forever gone. Luckily, fate gave us Rock Falls and New Navajo Falls, and these are actually the first waterfalls you’ll see as you hike the dusty trail down from the village of Supai. New Navajo Falls is well off the trail, but has a decided edge in grandeur over Rock Falls, which is more approachable and easier to shoot. Plan to spend a early morning here, catching the warm reflection of the dawn light off the sheer canyon walls on the cool blue waters of Havasu Creek, with intensely green water plants adding to the color palette.

Rock Falls, Havasupai, Arizona

Rock Falls, Havasupai, Arizona

After exploring both of the new Navajo Falls and the gem that is Havasu Falls, cinch up for a bit of adventure, the cliff trail down to Mooney Falls. This winding, steep trail descends 200’ through travertine passages and then hold on to the steel cables the last 70’ to terra firma. A mid-size photo backpack will fit through the maze but don’t forget your tripod as you’ll need it for the intense falls experience below. I’ve shot Mooney Falls as a pure scenic many times, so this time I carried down my inflatable kayak, and drafted my friends to paddle the pool below the falls. Not for the faint of heart, but on a hot summer afternoon you’ll never be cooler or more invigorated!

I photograph cities and destinations for many clients, but my heart truly lies in showing friends exploring the natural world, and the challenge I made to myself was to get the wild spirit of the place and the kayaking into some key images. Never have I heard of someone kayaking the waterfalls of Havasupai, and Havasu Creek, and many questions were posed as to where we were going from here. I was tempted to say down the Colorado River to Yuma, but that was too tall a tale to spin, even for me!

Kayaking below Mooney Falls.

Kayaking below Mooney Falls.

Truth is, whether you hike, ride the horse or helicopter (yes you can), into the wonderland of Havasupai, plan to stay at least two full days. Four is better, as you won’t want to leave. Bring plenty of camera batteries and memory cards, as there’s nowhere to tank up on electrons unless you stay in the Havasupai Lodge in Supai. It’s a long two miles from the village to Havasu Falls and the campground is well sited as a base to photograph the major falls. For reservations, contact the tribe at http://www.havasupaifalls.net

The water is Havasu Creek is a constant 72 degrees, perfect from mid-spring to mid-autumn, but chilly to cold in the winter. Summer afternoons are warm to hot, but the creek is always there, as it has been for countless millennia, to cool your body, thrill your soul and create future wonders in a faraway canyon in the high desert of the Southwest.

 

Kerrick James has worked as a travel journalist around the Pacific Rim and throughout the American West for 25 years, writing and shooting features for publications like Arizona Highways, Sunset, EnCompass, Natl. Geo Adventure and may others. Although his first love is adventure travel, he’s shot and covered all aspects of destination travel as well. He’s also taught nearly 50 photo workshops for Arizona Highways and his own private label, KJPhotosafaris. View his work at www.kerrickjames.com and www.kjphotosafaris.com.