The dogs had had a good rest before our trip and so the are ready to go. It is all that is on their mind. Everything needs to be tightly tied down on the sleds and before we give the go, we need to tie it down with a “ice hook” so that the dogs don`t take off with the sled by themselves. Once the sled is off the hook, the dogs take off like a bullet. The only way to slow the sled down is to push down on an iron plow-like break that digs itself into the snow.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Once the sled is on the go all the dogs are completely focused on pulling. Every individual wants to do its part and not lack behind. I guess that is what they are bread for. Pulling is what is on their mind.

We make it up to the cave. I have little idea of what to expect. As my eyes start to adapt to the darkness I see a wonderful sculptured cave landscape. In some areas water must have melted late in the season and has created incredible ice sculptures. With my flashlight I am painting over the formations, leaving the curtain of my camera open for over one minute. The image that appears on the back of the viewfinder reminds me of a “Cathedral of Ice”.

I had a small tripod with which it was easy to enter some of the narrow cavities. I used a cable release with a lock mechanism so I could keep have exposure times of 1 to 2 minutes. Another key was the more neutral colored LED light of my headlamp. It allowed for a more curate rendering of the colors.

Wrapped in layers of clothes I am laying on my stomach, watching a large group of longhaired beasts, that seemed to be from a prehistoric world. The wind has picked up in the course of the night to 40 miles and hour. It whips up the mountain sides and sweeps up small ice crystals that hit my skin like needles. In different areas blowing snow becomes thick and travels across the ground like a ghost of fog.

As parts of my face start to get colder and want to turn numb; and my hands can’t handle my camera anymore, I am thinking how lucky I am to be hit with this weather. It is these types of conditions, that I was hoping for. In my photography I really want to convey a sense of place – take people out into the field with me. For that, my images need to convey the harsh weather conditions, the powerful elements of the wind and the cold.

I am laying on the ground to get a unique perspective. The blowing snow creates this mystical atmosphere and ads to my interpretation of an animal that rather belongs to a children’s fairytale than to this world. I also have learned that the Muskoxen are much less mindful of my presence if I stay low to the ground. They often just eye me with curiosity.

As I am out there observing them many hours a day, I become ever more fascinated. What puzzles me the most is how they can live of a few lichen on the barren tundra, that they scratch up from underneath the snow. How can they possibly receive sufficient energy from this bit of vegetation to withstand constant arctic winter conditions?

What gets me even more, is that I seem to always find them on the most exposed and windy spots on the mountain sides and hilltops. They appear completely indifferent to the wind and the cold. It becomes obvious how well they have adapted to their environment. Their wool apparently has 6 times the insulating qualities of regular wool. No wonder they stay warm.

I am wrapped in several layers of underwear, polar fleece and outer shells that keep me warm. I had never paid much attention to high-tech clothes in the past. Part of that was probably the price tag: out of reach for a broke photographer who spends all of his money on camera gear. This time around however, I had received a sample of Patagonia´s winter clothes. I have to say I was totally impressed. The combination of inside layers and outer shells completely kept any wind from getting to me. It allowed me to hang out with the muskox patiently waiting for those special moments that make up a great image.

By the hundreds of thousands members of the Western Arctic Caribou Herd fill valley after valley, Nikon D3x, 24-70mm f2.8

Barren Ground Grizzly wandering the edge of the Arctic Refuge. Nikon D3x, 600mm f4 VR lens

Far away from the centers of our civilization lies a land of wonder, where hundreds of thousands of caribou roam the plains, where myriads of birds migrate to rear their chicks and where the kingdoms of grizzly and polar bears meet. It is America’s vast Arctic, far removed from the rest of the world, but heavily affected by humankind.

Thousands of murres gather on pools on the ice awaiting the nesting season on the nearby cliffs; Nikon D3x, 70-200mm f2.8

A large lead opens in the Chuckchi Sea between Pt. Hope and Cape Lisburne; Nikon D3x, 24-70mm f2.8

For many years environmental organizations have fought for the protection of the Alaskan arctic, but as the energy crisis worsens, pressure is driving Congress to open this wilderness sanctuary to oil drilling and mining operations. As part of my Freedom to Roam project in connection with the Blue Earth Alliance and Braided River Books, I am  working to produce photographic material in support of the Arctic Conservation Campaign. With compelling imagery I hope we can reach Congress and the general public by showing a true portrait of a land often called a “barren wasteland”.

Sea ice landscape at the edge of the lead. Nikon D3x, 14-24mm f2.8

A polar bear roams the edge of the packice in the Chuckchi Sea. Nikon D300, 200-400mm f4 + TC/E 1.4

After spending many months on the ground amongst hundreds of thousands of caribou, nesting birds and barren ground grizzlies in 2008, I realize, that the only way to cover this massive expanse of land is the aerial perspective. So in 2008 I started to plan a major “Arctic Aerial Expedition”, as part of the 2009 work on the Freedom to Roam project. The goal was to show wildlife in their environment, offering a true representation of the way animals depend on this interconnected ecosystem. My goal was to document the retreating sea ice, the platform for seals, walrus, birds and the polar bear as well as to document the 3 major caribou herds of the arctic slope.

I want to invite you to follow my blog as I am going to share with you some of the amazing experiences I had over the last weeks photographing Alaska`s Arctic. Please pass the info on to friends who are interested in wildlife, conservation, Alaska and photography.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The background. We had flown back to the spot of the wolf den after having seen the wolves there several weeks before. After we arrived at the location, we were in Mosquito-hell or mosquito heaven, depending from which perspective you look at it. Since we had made all the effort to get out there, I was not going to let the mosquitoes nor the river stop me from trying my luck with the wolves. (Yes I am stubborn about such things….)

In the middle of the river I was thinking however ———- “Hmmm, I am wondering if this is such a good idea. My insurance does not cover water damage on my D3x and the brand new Nikon 600mm f4 is not even insured at all. That be an expensive flush down the river……”

As you see myself there in the middle of the stream…. my speach bubble should read “Wholy Sh*T, what the hell am I doing”…….

To read a little more about sitting on the wolves then check out my post “Mosquito Heaven”

It is the worst trying to hold the lens still, when you feel the mosquitos landing on your hand starting to sting

Remember this moment, when you peacefully lay in bed on a warm summer evening, you close your eyes and want to finally relax and slip off into dream world……. and then suddenly you hear this single little mosquito flying around your head. You hear the ziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ziiiiiiiiii coming closer to your face and you try to feel where this damn mosquito lands, so you can hit yourself over the head and hopefully smash the little bugger. Most of the time however your face may flinch in anticipation of the oncoming hand, giving this mosquito just enough time to escape its fate.

Well now multiply this mosquito by a thousand, NO! by tenthousand and you may be able to imagnine the kind of  hell you might find yourself in on an arctic river in summer. The noise level of mosquitoes resembles a concert of dog wissles that are just within the realm of the human ear.

So you are still with me? – ok; then you imagine my idea to wade through a river and sit patiently in the tundra near a wolf den to see if I might get lucky to get a photograph. Well yeah, this is the thing with me. If I have a glimpse of hope, my will can be pretty strong. ( Read about my story on PATIENCE )

So what was I after? I had know about this wolf den the year before. Together with my pilot we checked the location this year again to confirm that the wolves were actually still present. We did one round over the den and saw a grey wolf peacefully resting on the river bank. I got one image and this observation gave me reason to come back. When we planned to come back in July we thought about mosquitoes; I bought a mosquito net last minute, because I had forgotten mine. Thank god! As we arrived at the river and flow over the den site we still saw a black wolf nearby. That wolf never even looked up but just shook his fir. It was a sign. As soon as we landed, we know what was going on. This poor creature was so miserable, it could care less what we were all about. Aerial wolf-hunters? Who cares! Put me out of this misery!

Grey Wolf watching the den. Nikon D3x, 70-200mm/f2.8

Good thing we were of the other kind! Longer story short: After crossing the river, I sat down near the den for a couple of hours. For some reason the mosquitoes always found away to work their ways to my skin. I tried to stay calm and the dream of the wolf images kept me pretty upbeat. The bigger problem for me was that I saw not much sign of activity on the river bank. The sand seemed not disturbed from tracks of playing wolf pups, nor was there an obvious path where they would emerge. I checked out different angles but I just could not convince myself that these wolves would ever appear in the open, if they were there at all. So I decided to leave, one of the many times where a hope for an image did not result in success.

Maybe it saved my life, that there were no fresh signs! With my stubbornness I may have stayed out there until the mosquitoes would have sucked the last drop of blood out of me and just left my dried up outer shell – mummified; of course with camera in hand.

Anyway, this is the long story behind the reason why I have a few minutes of internet in the middle of nowhere – at Point Lonely. And it is the same story of just having a few moments. Over night the fog rolled in. Now I have to be on “standby” to be ready to jump into the plane any moment the fog will give us the chance to take off. If we cannot, I might have the chance to write for the coming hours (or days) about my experiences.

What I want to share with you in short: I have seen a Arctic landscape come alive with hundreds of thousands of caribou, watched wolves chase across the tundra, thousands of seals on the ice-sheet and a lonely polar bear wonder the pack ice. As we were buzzing along with the plane it sometimes was hard to absorb and process all the impressions right that very second. I am so glad to have the images to come back to, where a single moment is frozen in time. It will give me a chance to understand what ALL I have seen. My expedition is coming to an end in a few days and after a quick edit, I will share with you some of the incredible moments I have witnessed. For now I better step outside and see what the fog does ……..

The July issue of Outdoor Photographer has a wonderful story on my ongoing Freedom to Roam project on North America`s western seabord from Baja California to the Beaufort sea (B2B) in the arctic. The article gives a great overview of my conservation photography project focusing on wildlife corridors. Take a look at the magazine to see the images in print and read the great story OP has put together in their series on the environment!

Get the July issue of OP to see the story in Freedom to Roam II in print

.. is undoubtably one of the most important tools in wildlife photography. While sometimes it seems one may be waisting ones time, I have learned that if one give into the waiting game, animals start to present themselves: You discover a little birds nest nearby, you observe a fox that does its daily round to mark its territory – and if you are lucky the moment you are waiting for may come true. Some of the best images in my career happened after such long hours of waiting. 

Snowy Owl returns to the nest to feed the female and chicks. Nikon D3, 500mm/f4 AF-I

After 72 hours this was won of the “golden” moments that made all the waiting worth while. Emil and I had scoped out a good nesting location of the snowy owls. It was a great Lemming year and there were many active nests near the town of Barrow in the northern most tip of Alaska. After acquiring permission to set up a blind the waiting game began. 

Wishful thinking

While I can loose my patience quickly with stuff that “unnecessarily” takes a long time, I can have the patience of an elephant after I get “hocked” on the idea of an image. Often I make different scenarios up in my mind. It becomes a collection of imaginary moments of whishful thinking. These thoughts nourish my desire to wait for those moments to materialize. 

Believe me. There are many times when I have waited for nothing. But the times when a wonderful image came out of it make the wait all worth it. In my career some of the best images came out of such stubbornness, where I just did not want to give up on the image. 

I loved the many hours out on the tundra with the owls. There was so much to see and listen to.

Observations

Owl mother settling her downs around the chicks

I quickly learned about the hunting pattern of the male, that would sit guard some 150 yards from the nest. He occasionally would fly from mount to mount to switch out his perches from where he would hunt the lemmings.
The female would have the responsibility over the nest. She needed to keep the chicks and the last remaining egg warm.

But even she did get anxious once in a while. She had been sitting on this nest for  many weeks, through rain and snow and the daily harassment of the jaegers.
If a long time had passed where the male had not brought in any food, she seemed to try to motive him for the hunt with longing calls. Then when the male finally arrived after a successful hunt, she would change her calls to a kind of ongoing “purring” sound to encourage him to pass over the food. 

Male arrives at the nest with a lemming

It was her job to feed the chicks. I watched the male try once in an helpless effort to stuff a whole lemming into the mouth of a chick. He quickly gave up though, just dropped the little rodent and took off for its perch again.

WHAT IS YOUR PATIENCE REWARD STORY ?

Waiting Game - I am still stuck in the oil town of Prudhoe waiting for weather!

I often get asked about patience out in the field. In a way it needs to come with the job as a wildlife photographer, right? Am I specifically patient? Well, with certain things yeah, with other things I am not. I want to make them happen right away. Right now I am sitting in the oil-town of Prudhoe Bay. If you checked this blog a few days ago ….. yes I was already waiting then for the fog to clear and the wind to calm down. Guess what ….. the wind is still blowing and now it is not only foggy, but it is raining on top of that. Got patience? Well mine is challenged right now. I am wondering when and IF I will get a break here in the next days. I know the weather in the Brooks Range just 100 miles away is great, but I have the obligation to cover the coast. I need to stand by, to be able to react as soon as the weather changes and I can work with my pilot to cover Alaska`s Arctic Coast.

Well, this gives me time for internet stuff like my blog ……. Let me tell you about another patience story, when I was in a blind waiting for great image of a snowy owl up here in the arctic. I was hooked on the idea of this great image which kept me in a blind for several days - straight. Coming up…..

After flying hours below the layer of fog we see a silver lining at the horizon. We need to put the plane down on a gravel bar and set up camp for the night. My pilot Ken wants to look for a spot where we can get out of the wind. We are fighting a stiff breeze of 20 – 30 nots on the nose of the plane.

As we are flying further inland, the sun finally breaks through the layers of fog. In the far distance I see the brooks range. Dark clouds are hugging the mountains and create a dramatic backdrop for photographs. We follow a river drainage south as I see a group of caribou in the riverbed heading to climb a steep snowbank  to join their group up on the extended plains, where food is plentiful.

We swing around with the plane while I keep an eye on the group running up the step snowbank seemingly without effort. I am trying to caputre the images struggling to keep the horizon straight in the viewfinder while the pilot goes into  a steep bank and balances out the gusts of wind. After hours of flying through bad weather, there it is: A few seconds of action in wonderful golden arctic light.