Welcome to the landscape photography blog by Chuck Derus. Thanks for looking and for your comments!
Embrace the Heritage
This sign is the signature feature of Mt. Carmel Junction, Utah. Located at the junction of Highway 89 and State Route 9, the Thunderbird Resort includes a restaurant, gift shop, hotel, RV park, and golf course.
You must be wondering about the slogan. How did “Home of the Ho-Made Pies” survive changing cultural norms? It helps to know the history of the Thunderbird’s founders Jack and Fern Morrison.
Jack Morrison was born in St. Louis, Missouri in 1891. His mother died when he was only eight. As a young man, Jack worked in the coal mines of Wyoming, one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. In 1917, he was drafted and fought in World War I.
Fern Hanson was born in 1907 to Danish immigrants in Bear River City, Utah. She grew up in a two-room log cabin on a farm with her eight siblings. The family moved to Soldier Summit and finally to Springville, Utah where she was a model for J.C. Penney.
A Springville friend set her up on a blind date with Jack Morrison. This was a “scandalous adventure” according to Fern. After a three-month courtship, they were married in October 1926.
The couple drove down Highway 89 until encountering State Route 9, a new road under construction to Zion National Park. Realizing the site’s potential, Jack used his veteran benefits to homestead 160 acres at the connection.
Jack and Fern built a small cabin just east of Highway 89 near the Virgin River. They started a family and improved the property. Soon, they built a gas station across the road for travelers along Highway 89 and State Route 9.
Fern began baking fruit pies and selling slices to truck drivers. In 1940, the couple decided to build the Thunderbird Cafe and Restaurant. Strapped for cash, Jack had to take a job with the railroad to make ends meet.
Their profits continued to go into improvements, including restrooms and a curio shop. At about this time, Jack came up with the famous “Pie Girl” icon modeled after Fern.
Ho vs Home
So why was it “Ho-Made” instead of “Homemade”? It was World War II and wood was scarce. Jack was forced to use scrap lumber for the sign. He just couldn’t find a long enough piece of wood for the extra two letters!
The folksy sounding shortened version was a winner. In recent years, however, the word has created controversy. But according to Fern, “…why not take the bull by the horns, embrace our heritage, and start merchandizing?”
Jack died in 1961, probably of black lung disease from his years in the coal mines. Fern decided to continue and expand the business with a nine-hole golf course. The potential for overnight visitors then led her to build a hotel.
Fern died in 1993. The Morrisons’ descendants still own and operate the restaurant, lodge, and golf course.
The Shot
Friends Steve Horne and Scott Fuller and I were on our way to a pre-dawn shoot in Zion National Park on October 28. But rain ruined our plans. Luckily, the route took us through Mt. Carmel Junction.
I’ve wanted to photograph this sign for fifteen years. But the parking lot has always been full of cars that ruin the shot.
This time there were no cars! Waiting for blue hour, we set up in a light rain to document this fascinating bit of Americana.
After that, it was time for breakfast at the Thunderbird!
From left to right: Scott Fuller, Steve Horne, and me.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus
The Moulton Barn
It’s everywhere. If you peruse any photo gallery, there will almost certainly be an image of the Moulton barn.
Who were the Moultons? Today’s Friday Photo and my Milky Way photo from three weeks ago featuring T.A. Moulton’s century-old barn piqued my curiosity.
Two barns remain on Mormon Row in the Grand Tetons. Thomas Alva (T.A.) Moulton and his brother John homesteaded adjacent parcels on Mormon Row in 1908.
They dry-farmed grain until irrigation ditches were built in the late 1920s. It was a hard life. A prolonged drought or a hailstorm could mean the difference between barely surviving and bankruptcy.
I wonder if they ever had the time to appreciate the magnificence of sunrise on the Grand Tetons.
All images from Media - Mormon Row Historic District
T.A. Branding Cattle Spouse Helen Moulton in Front of the Barn
Grain Harvest
T.A. took over 30 years to build his gable-with-shed style barn. It is all that remains of the homestead T.A and his sons built between about 1912 and 1945.
Photographers from around the world flock to T. A. Moulton’s barn to capture this iconic, historic structure. The sunrise view with the barn in the foreground and the Teton Range as the backdrop is one of the most photographed locales in the valley.
The Shot
Given a choice, I prefer to photograph little known places. Does the world really need another photograph of the Moulton barn?
But icons are icons for a reason. It’s breathtaking to absorb the resplendence of the Grand Tetons warmly basking in the first light of the morning sun.
September 27 was one of those mornings to simply rejoice being there. The photograph was merely a feeble attempt to communicate my experience.
Fog lay across the valley beautifully softening and simplifying the background, except for the mountain peaks. At just the right moment, a Magpie alighted on the peak of the roof. It was time to capture the image.
After relishing the warm light of the sun kissing the mountaintops and my good fortune with the Magpie, it was back to the hotel to pack up and begin the long journey home.
I’m taking the Friday after Thanksgiving off, so the next Friday Photo is December 6.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus
Right Time, Right Place
It was serendipity. The time was the early evening of October 26. The place was the Rimrocks Toadstools, a grouping of fascinating hoodoos, mushroom rocks, and rock towers near Big Water, Utah. The sky was dark and there were almost no clouds.
The reward was spotting a comet. Comet Tsuchinshan-ATLAS was making a close approach to Earth after rounding the sun earlier in the month. It was discovered in 2023 by observers at the Purple Mountain (Tsuchinshan) Observatory in China and an Asteroid Terrestrial-impact Last Alert System (ATLAS) telescope in South Africa.
This snowy dirtball is nearly 2 miles in diameter with a tail of dust and gas extending for tens of millions of miles. The last time it visited Earth was 800 centuries ago.
Tsuchinshan-ATLAS originated from the Oort Cloud. The Cloud is a spherical shell 0.03 to 3.2 light-years from the sun filled with billions of icy planetesimals. You can appreciate the size of the Oort Cloud compared to the solar system below.
From starwalk.com
Every so often, a planetesimal is dislodged towards the sun by the gravitational pulls of both passing stars and the Milky Way. As it gets closer to the sun, it heats up and develops tails of dust and gas observed by comet watchers around the world.
If a comet isn’t consumed and destroyed during its close approach to the Sun, it generally returns. Since I don’t plan on being here in the year 2824, this was going to be my only chance to see and photograph Tsuchinshan-ATLAS.
Naked eye visible comets aren’t common. I’ve been fortunate to view comets Hale-Bopp and Neowise. Witnessing a third comet in my lifetime would be a godsend.
The Shot
I belong to Photogenesis, the Naperville Camera Club. It’s called the “fun” camera club due to the camaraderie and its collaborative culture.
Scott Fuller and Steve Horne are friends from the club. Scott and I recently decided to fly to Steve’s new home in Utah and join him for a week-long Utah adventure.
It was a long flight from Chicago to St. George, Utah for Scott and me. And then we had hours of driving with Steve to reach our first photo location at the Rimrocks Hoodoos.
We photographed sunset amongst the hoodoos. Even though we were exhausted, chilly, and hungry, the allure of night photography kept us energized. We began scouting for Milky Way nightscape compositions.
Knowing the comet would be visible near Venus for a short while after sunset, I kept my eyes peeled. I was overjoyed when I spotted it and shared the news with Scott and Steve.
We frantically took images as the comet rose and gradually dimmed in the night sky. This was my favorite. After a round of high fives, we departed for a warm car, dinner, and a night’s sleep.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus
Fall Leaves
"It's the first day of autumn! A time of hot chocolatey mornings, and toasty marshmallow evenings, and, best of all, leaping into leaves!" Winnie the Pooh, Pooh's Grand Adventure
What else can compare to leaping into a pile of leaves? Launching with reckless abandon, children land with wildly flailing limbs as the leaves cushion and envelop them. Squeals of excitement and laughter signal every leap.
And then it’s time to shake off the leaves and leap again. Watching them is a glorious reminder of childhood when leaves were a joy before raking became a chore.
Fortunately, adulthood brings new joys to the season. Trees adorn the landscape with rich shades of red, orange, and yellow. Nature’s fireworks create the perfect backdrop for outdoor activities and scenic drives.
The Shot
I spent several days in early October around Grand Marais, Minnesota. The fall colors were near their peak creating a perfect backdrop for photography. While en route to scout a photo location, we crested a hill, and I felt compelled to stop.
A lovely S-curve led my eye into the distance. Passing clouds created alternating bands of light and shadow. After waiting a few minutes, the light playing over the scene seemed right and I pressed the shutter.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus
Mormon Row
To old time mountain men, a high mountain valley is known as a “hole.” Jackson Hole (originally called Jackson's Hole) is a valley between the Gros Ventre and Teton mountain ranges in Wyoming.
Wyoming’s population grew slowly before statehood in 1890. It remained relatively untouched and pristine until 1884 when the first white residents arrived. Most were drawn to the towns of Wilson and Jackson.
About the same time, leaders of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS) sent parties from the Salt Lake Valley to establish new communities. They were expanding outside of Utah, Idaho and Arizona.
Their timing was excellent. The Homestead Act of 1862, the Timber Culture Act of 1873, and the Desert Act of 1877 all encouraged settlement of the West.
An LDS party selected a location fourteen miles north of Jackson, Wyoming in 1895. It had rich alluvial soil that was marginally better than the rock-filled dirt that covered the rest of the valley. Shelter from the wind provided by Blacktail Butte to the southwest prevented the topsoil from being blown away.
What those pioneers did was unusual. In stark contrast to typically isolated Western homesteads, the LDS homesteaders created a north-south community along a central road. They clustered their farms to share labor and community.
A church and a school were at its heart. Fields and agricultural lands were located behind each of the 27 homesteads. It was named Grovont by the U.S. Post Office after the nearby Gros Ventre River.
Mormon “line villages” such as Grovont were also known as “Mormon Rows” throughout the West. Initially the term was not flattering. Over time, it acquired a positive connotation.
The horse and wagon (sleigh in winter) remained the principal form of transportation in Jackson Hole, even after the introduction of automobiles. This kept the local cash crop of hay and oats economically viable.
Horse and hand labor built an intricate network of levees and dikes to funnel water from the nearby Gros Ventre River to their fields. Water still flows in some of those ditches today.
It was a hard life. A prolonged drought or a hailstorm could mean the difference between barely surviving and bankruptcy. The unpredictable weather caused farmers to diversify into small cattle and sheep operations.
Mormon Row initially flourished and then slowly faded over the span of nearly a century. Parcel by parcel, the National Park Service was gifted or acquired properties as leases expired.
The Shot
Often photographed, the Moulton barn with the Teton Range in the background is a symbol of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I was looking for a different take on this icon.
I received a heartwarming birthday gift on the evening of September 25. Our leader, Don Smith, had done the planning for a night shoot at the barn. The Milky Way would be above the barn with Blacktail Butte behind it.
Arriving before sunset, I set up my tripod with my friends, Mike Loebach and Jon Christofersen. When twilight ended and the skies really became dark, we proceeded to photograph the scene and light paint the barn with a small flashlight.
I felt blessed to celebrate my special day under the stars in such a historic location.
Thanks for looking,
Chuck Derus