Light Painting the Ancients
On a recent photography scouting trip in the eastern Sierra with my friends and colleagues, Gary Hart, James Guillory and Mike Hall, we decided to try our hand at light painting some really old living specimens. 
The idea was to light paint the old growth Bristlecone Pines in the remote White Mountains above the Owens Valley east of Bishop, California. These trees, some as old as 5,000 years, survive in one of the harshest environments known to man. Our destination was the Schulman Grove and specifically the “Ancient Grove” along the Discovery Trial. The “Ancients” is the name given to a grove of Bristlecone trees all of which are over 4,000 years old.
The process of creating the final image started the previous night as we journeyed 14 miles past the Schulman Grove along a graded dirt road to the Patriarch Grove. As sunset embraced us we set off along the Summit Trail, a one-mile loop to the 11,400 foot summit. Unfortunately, the sunset was less than spectacular that evening; nonetheless, we did make some nice images of the weathered Bristlecones and tried some macro work as well. Usually at this altitude in the White Mountains, the earth’s shadow displays a vivid pink glow which is not as prominent at lower altitudes. Unfortunately clouds on the western horizon prevented this spectacular show.
Somewhat dismayed we climbed back into Gary’s vehicle and began our 45 minute drive back down to the Schulman Grove. Once we were back onto the paved road, nighttime had fully taken hold and we searched the eastern crest for a Bristlecone with a prominent view of the night sky to test our light painting technique. With only a few tries at light painting under my belt, I really had no idea of exposure times. 
The tree we were using as our main subject was about 60 feet up a slope of approximately 45 degrees.
We started with an aperture of f/8 and an ISO of 100 in RAW (all of us were using Canon digital cameras). I used a 2 million candlepower spot that I had recently purchased at Lowe’s. With our shutters set to “Bulb” we had to double-click our remotes (once for mirror lockup and again to trip the shutter) and then slide the locking switch into the locked position and guess at the time of 20 minutes. Noise reduction (black frame subtraction) was turned on to reduce noise. This meant a 40-minute wait until we could see our results. We began our one-hour journey back to our hotel in Bishop as the black frame recorded.
Once we saw the frame we realized we were underexposed. Thanks to digital, I could quantify the underexposure without having to guess as I would have had we attempted shooting chrome film. Once the image was imported into Camera Raw, I began to play with the exposure tab. I also adjusted the midtone slider and came to the conclusion that the image was at least two stops underexposed. Playing further with the exposure tab I was surprised to see some color in some of the stars at the maximum of +4. Could we really have been 4 stops under? I wasn’t one hundred percent certain, so I decided to split the difference and adjust our next attempt by +3 stops. This took me back to the days when, as a photographer shooting chrome, one had to make minute guesses at ISO adjustments when calculating either pushing or pulling exposure. Camera RAW showed where I should be, I just needed to trust it!
So off we went the next afternoon, armed with our new knowledge and the gnawing realization that Gary, Mike and James were relying solely on my judgment for setting the correct exposure. 
I reasoned if we dropped our f-stop from f8 to f/4 we could pick up two stops. The other adjustment was to set the ISO at 200 instead of 100. This picked up the third stop I was looking for. We decided to shoot sunset from the Schulman Grove as the Discovery Trail ventured along the western crest. Mike suggested shooting in the Ancient Grove because of the unique look of the withered trees and the expanse of sky to the east of the crest.
Conditions were as perfect as we could hope – a moonless clear sky and no wind. Surprisingly, it was also a pleasant evening temperature wise as we all donned light coats and parkas. One caveat was that the main tree in the grove was closer than the one from the previous evening (30 feet as opposed to 60 feet). Our light painting time with the 2 million candlepower light was 6 seconds. We felt 3 seconds would not be enough time to evenly paint the tree. Fortunately Mike had a 1 million candlepower spot. We tested that spot for 6 seconds and checked our histograms. The exposure looked right on the mark.
Now it was time to open our shutters and expose our final image. We were all running very low on energy as we had been up for a sunrise shot at 4:30 am that morning and no one had napped (hey we’re all in our late 40’s and early 50’s so what can I say)! We decided two images would be our limit. That would put us at our hotel around midnight and give us precious little sleep before a 4 am wakeup call the next morning.
With a 3-2-1 countdown, our shutters locked into bulb mode. We elected Mike as our official light painter. I opted to shoot my first frame vertically as did Gary and Mike. 
Gary had a different angle with more of the southern sky in the frame. He was perched precariously along a steep slope of white slate and we all hoped he wouldn’t start tumbling down. He did make mention that Lone Pine (to the south of our location) was home to California’s largest ever recorded earthquake – a comforting thought! Meanwhile, James had trouble with his tripod head and decided to stay horizontal (something that would prove valuable to me in the end - the image to the right shows my first attempt at a vertical composition). Once Mike meticulously painted the tree, the 20 minute countdown was on. None of us dared move as we did not want to risk vibration to the cameras perched on our tripods recoding the night sky. The stars were brilliant. For me it brought back memories of being on top of Hawaii’s 14,000 foot summit, Mauna Kea, this past July with my family. Shooting stars abounded in the southwestern sky.
The silence and stillness were awesome to experience. A lone coyote howled in the distance – we really were not alone in this desolate wilderness. How much life form was among us was a topic of conversation which helped pass the time. However our main concern was not of the animal variety but rather the man made kind - specifically jet airliners. We realized we were under a main artery for planes bound for the Bay Area. Our obvious concern was that of a streaking airliner recording in our frame. We all took a section of the sky in which we were responsible to scan for oncoming aircrafts. The plan was to cover our lens for the brief time the jetliner would streak though the frame hoping not to disrupt the rotational movement of the stars as they were being recorded. Fortunately, the jets stayed north of us for the first exposure. Once the 20 minutes were up, we unlocked our cable releases and awaited the 20 minute black frame reduction. Our glowing red lights on the back of our cameras would extinguish when the image was complete.
If I recall, Mike’s camera was the first to finish and the “wows” began – I knew we had done it! Finally my camera allowed me to view my LCD and a sense of the magic that only photography can elicit took hold of me. I studied my frame – the stars were brilliant and indeed recorded some orange, red and blue color. The tree was perfectly lit! Could we do better with the last frame – would my battery hold? Fortunately James was to my right and had recorded the scene horizontally – I loved it – that was going to be my second frame. The one added twist was to paint some of the other trees that would now be included in the frame. We decided to go with a three second exposure on the supplemental trees to keep them one-stop less that the main tree and not fight for attention in the frame.
Gary wanted to try a silhouette so we had him wait until our shutters were locked into position and we completed our light painting. Once the spot was extinguished, Gary locked his shutter into position and the wait was once again on. My intuition was to add just a few more minutes to the ambient exposure to ensure I was pulling the color out of the sky. My final image was exposed for 22 ½ minutes. Near the end of the exposure I glanced down at my watch and missed a jetliner which popped out form behind the tree to the left of the main Bristlecone. Fortunately the plane's lights did not record. Once the shutters were closed, we began our trip off the mountain to the parking lot as our black frame subtraction began.
As we descended away from the Schulman Grove parking lot Mike once again had his image up on his LCD. We were all smiles! Gary would have to wait until we reached the hotel back in Bishop as he was driving and stored his camera back in his bag. Exhausted and hungry, we finally arrived at the hotel a little before midnight. 
All of us loaded our card onto our laptops to check our images before turning in for the night. Dinner became an afterthought as exhaustion took a firm grip. I can’t speak for the rest of the guys, but I went to sleep feeling a sense of accomplishment. The image was better than I had hoped!
It was somewhat ironic that Gary was reading my all time favorite book on landscape photography, "Mountain Light", by Galen Rowell. Rowell had included a picture of a Bristlecone he had time-exposed during the winter of 1976 also in the Schulman Grove. He used multiple bursts from his flash to light paint. I often wonder how he would have embraced digital. I know he preached never to add what was not present to the frame and worried that digital and Photoshop manipulation could lead to this temptation. For me personally, I agree with his concern, but having seen what digital could capture that my eyes were limited from seeing was emotionally exhilarating. It only served to open my mind further to the world of possibilities which nature holds once the sun goes down. The possibilities now seem endless!
As for my experience on the mountain with my friends that evening, it will be something that will stay with me for a long time. Even if the photo had not been a success, the evening was. Just to be under the brilliant stars, just shy of 11,000 feet in a somewhat other worldly location with good friends who share my passion for landscape photography and the outdoors, served to remind me why nature photography has such an allure and power over my being. My images are simply a recording of a small slice of time in my life, but the memories are what will hopefully live on for the rest of my existence.