The Minarets at Sunset

Some locations earn their place on your shot list for years before you finally stand in front of them.

The Minarets have been on mine since I first saw Ansel Adams' photographs of the Ritter Range. Those jagged spires reaching over 12,000 feet, remnants of ancient volcanic activity carved by glaciers into something that looks almost unreal. I'd driven past the turnoff to Minaret Vista a dozen times on trips up Highway 395. This time I finally made the turn.

I arrived at the viewpoint about two hours before sunset. Partly to scout compositions, partly because I'd read the road closes to private vehicles after certain hours during peak season. The vista sits at roughly 9,300 feet, looking west directly at the peaks. Clouds were building over the range, the kind that could either kill a sunset shoot or make it unforgettable.

They made it unforgettable.

The light shifted fast once the sun dropped low. First the peaks went flat and gray as the sun dipped behind the cloud layer. I started wondering if I'd wasted the trip. Then everything changed. The clouds lit up from beneath, throwing pink and orange light across the entire range. The Minarets caught that reflected glow and turned the color of rust and fire.

The whole show lasted maybe ten minutes. I worked through different focal lengths and compositions, but kept coming back to this framing. The jagged silhouette against those clouds, patches of snow still clinging to the shadowed cirques, the layers of ridgelines fading into the distance.

The Eastern Sierra delivers shots like this if you show up and wait. The hard part is being there when the light decides to cooperate.