Why I Love a Window Seat!

For most of my adulthood I've flown to the US every couple of years, and I always try to get a window seat on the right side of the plane, in order to get a decent view of Greenland, the tip of which transatlantic flights usually pass over. I hadn't been there for a few years, so was pleased to snag a suitable window seat on my recent flight to Los Angeles, on the way to Hawaii. Part of the fun of these journeys for me is to retrace the flight path by matching the photos I've taken to Google Maps. Sometimes this is pretty straightforward - for a start I have a fair idea of the route from the occasional peak of the flight map between films. Sometimes, though, it is a downright painful exercise, especially if I've only taken a couple of photos every couple of hours. The quality of the photos is never that great, as I'm generally in the back of the plane behind the vapour trail, so shooting downwards gives the clearest shot (but pretty difficult with a bulky DSLR and a long telephoto lens).

On this recent trip I managed to figure out where all of the photos were taken, and I found some pretty interesting geology and some areas with many, many meandering rivers that all look the same. It was a lengthy job, but I'm a bit weird and I enjoyed it very much!

Here goes:

First shot is taken flying over Skye - I can just make out the lighthouse on Neist Point below.

The next photo I took had a bridge in it that I didn't recognise. I knew it must be somewhere in north-west Scotland, and a couple of Google searches for "bridges connecting islands in the Hebrides" showed me a bridge from North Uist to Berneray - a little island I'd never heard of before.

We left the British Isles behind and headed up to Iceland. Sadly there was constant cloud cover as we passed along the island's southern coast. I watched a movie instead. Three hours after take-off I did a little check out of the window and saw the bright white of the snow-covered south-eastern Greenland coming into view. We flew over an area at the bottom point of Greenland that has no settlements on the eastern coast, the Kujalleq province. What it lacked in settlements it made up for in stunning peaks, the shadows of which were long and pointy in the morning light. I'd missed the pink light of sunrise, but it was still bloody spectacular!

This photo was taken at approx. 61.8°N , 42.0° W

Shadows of peaks at approx. 61.9°N, 42.7°W

Peaks at approx. 61.93°N, 43.0°W

More peaks, approx. 61.9°N, 43.1° W

More shadows, approx. 61.9°N, 43.4°W

The last peak I saw in the main range on the eastern side was almost directly beneath us - I do have to slightly contort myself to capture these (and put the shutter on silent so as not to irritate everyone around me).

Approx. 61.8°N, 43.7°W

There were a few small mountains peaking out from the ice sheet as we crossed to the western side, but the eastern side was far more dramatic. The ice was occasionally broken making interesting patterns.

Cracks in the ice sheet, approx. 61.63°N, 46.75°W

The edge of the ice sheet, at approx. 61.4°N, 47.9°W

Middle of the island in the foreground is at 61.33°N, 48.54°W

There was a huge glacier to the north, but sadly the vapour trail was totally obscuring the view (here it is anyway - this is what I was up against!):

Head of the glacier (just visible) is at 61.585°N, 48.33°W

I continued my marathon movie-watching session (I got through 5 films as well as taking numerous photos!), and an hour later we hit the coast of Labrador and the Torngat Mountains National Park in Canada.

The peak at the bottom is at 58.72°N, 63.115°W

A little further west was this almost heart-shaped pair of glaciated valleys at 58.67°N, 63.97°W

Next photo was taken of a cute little river junction on the George river in Quebec - the islands reminded me of an owl's face.

Owl face at approx. 58.37°N, 66.08°W

A little further west and there was another impressive partly-frozen river snaking its way through the Quebec countryside below - the Koksoak river.

Approx. 57.95°N, 68.95°W

Half an hour later I checked the view again and we had just reached the eastern coast of Hudson Bay and a string of snow-covered islands - this one is Curran Island.

Curran Island, 56.62°N, 76.66°W

Forty minutes later I checked again (thankfully BA has proper entertainment systems so you can pause your movies at will!) and down below was a snowy meandering river. I cannot tell you how satisfying it is to find these rivers on Google Maps.

Winisk River and tributary in Ontario. The big loop is at 54.66°N, 85.44°W

The Winisk River tributary a bit further south-west - the little lake on the left that looks like a fat white cat is at 54.39°N, 85.56°W

An hour later we had left Ontario behind us and were over Winnipeg in Manitoba Province. Suddenly there was flat snow-covered farmland, and more meandering rivers and oxbow lakes (I love a good oxbow lake!).

South of Lake Winnipeg - the round lake in the middle is at 50.36°N, 96.83°W

I'm astounded I found this! It's at 50.18°N, 97.12°W

This is the Assinboine River and the big loop to the left is at 49.96°N, 97.66°W

The next two shots were the ones that foxed me the most. I pretty much knew the route now, so it was just a question of finding the individual things on the map. It had been cloudy for a while, so no photos were taken, but eventually it cleared and I took a couple more shots. When I worked out the location of the second photo below, the first was easier to find. I thought that the big lake must be the shores of Lake Sakakawea in North Dakota, over the border in the US, but I just couldn't find an exact geographical match. I eventually worked it out - the angle was different from what I expected - as the quality is so poor I deduced that it must have been taken from further away.

I dare you to try to find a specific lake in the middle of North Dakota! This is Rice Lake at 47.95°N, 101.52°W

Lake Sakakawea, part of the Missouri River, in North Dakota. Apologies for terrible photo quality! The point is at 47.63°N, 102.24°W

It was an hour later when I opened the shades again and noticed some more wonderful meandering rivers (there are clearly quite a few in north America!). By now we were over the Green River in Wyoming, near a town called Farson. I located this river as the next shot was of a rather odd reservoir, taken a short time later.

The bridge across the river is at 41.88°N, 109.8°W

I zoomed in on Google Maps and found the name of this weird-coloured reservoir that we passed almost directly overhead (hence the terrible photo!). I've Googled it and can find nothing about it, other than its location, which is a bit odd...

The rather mysterious Texasgulf Tailings Reservoir at 41.74°N, 109.87°W

Forty minutes later and the snow was gone, and below was the rocky, desert landscape of Utah.

This is part of the Paiute Reservation in south-west Utah at 37.175°N, 113.81°W

Not far away and we were over the border of Nevada and flying over Virgin Peak and the Virgin River. In 2005 I did a road-trip from Denver to Las Vegas and would have passed very close to here, a little to the north!

The bend in the river is at 36.61°N, 114.33°W

Next view was of the massive Lake Mead. First I could see Echo Bay, part of the Overton Arm. When we were flying over it I thought it might be Lake Powell, but that's much further east.

The northern arm of Lake Mead, at 36.27°N, 114.4°W. It was terribly hazy by now, so the photo quality was poor :(

The Colorado River actually flows through the middle section of Lake Mead. Boulder Wash Cove is in the right foreground, at 36.16°N, 114.55°W

Crazy Las Vegas - the airport is at 36.08°N, 115.16°W

The next thing that caught my eye was over the border in California, a couple of huge black lava fields in the middle of the desert. I believe the one on the right is called the Pisgah Lava Field (there are some tubes marked on the map). Love lava!!

Pisgah Lava in California, at 34.68°N, 116.33°W

More lava, at 34.63°N, 116.38°W

We flew over some more desert scenery - would love to have been down there exploring. This is near Johnson Valley, California.

A little outcrop (possibly volcanic?) in Johnson Valley, at 34.38°N, 116.54°W

Soon after the desert disappeared and we were back over green hills again, which is dotted with quarries and ski resorts.

The snowy bit is Holcomb Valley at 34.3°N, 116.9°W

We were getting close now to Los Angeles, the end of the first leg of our journey. The suburbs began to be visible, and the cloud cover grew, but I was surprised to see a snowy peak sticking above the clouds. The suburbs sprawled out forever, with areas of housing, massive factories, golf courses...

Mt San Antonio sticking above an area called Ontario. The building with the white roof is a Walmart Supercenter at 34.08°N, 117.67°W

The Dwight D Eisenhower Golf Club at 34.02°N, 117.93°W

Eventually the skyline of Downtown LA came into view, although for the remainder of the journey the buildings were mostly obscured by the pesky vapour trail. This is the clearest shot I got of the skyscrapers - fairly rubbish!

View of Downtown LA - don't really need coordinates for that!

Last but not least was the Hollywood sign, perched up on the hills behind the enormous city. Again, an awful photo - the vapour now well and truly ruining all my photos as we descended! The only option was to shoot as far down as possible. I managed to locate the streets below in Gramercy Park, the last part of this rather ridiculous task!

The Hollywood sign, at 34.135°N, 118.323°W

The house with the cypress trees at the bottom left of the shot is at 34.02°N, 117.93°W. And there ends my quest!

And here is the whole route, to tie it all up. It may seem a bit weird and obsessive, but the geography of our world is incredible and diverse, and there's really no better way than to get an idea of this scale from the air.

Nice little route from LHR to LAX!

Road-trip in Oregon - Driving to Crater Lake

I
It was time to leave the coast behind us and head inland, to see what the heartland of Oregon had to offer. I'd been a bit disappointed with the lack of storminess while we were on the coast, having been keen to witness some massive waves breaking over the little islets. Oh well, the weather had certainly been pretty pleasant, and continued that way as we departed.

We set off south, briefly dipping across the California border. Our route for the day was to drive along the Redwoods Highway from Crescent City north-east back into Oregon, stop for a burger in Medford, before heading north to Crater Lake (Oregon's only National Park), and then staying in Diamond Lake, a little further north, for the night.

The drive was lovely once we turned inland, driving along a narrow road (the 197) lined with massive redwoods every once in a while. We didn't stop to photograph them for some reason, possibly because the road was fast and windy with no pull-outs. Soon we reached the 199 which heads up into Oregon, and we stopped briefly at a state park, but didn't feel like paying $8 just to see a couple of trees (a bit silly really, as we didn't get a chance to see any redwoods after that!), so we drove on without parking. Onwards we went, the road lined with fir trees and beautifully windy.

We stopped at a large pull-out on a big curve in the road with a steep hillside above, and a pretty river valley down below. Some of the trees were covered in a strange plant that almost looked like coils of thin rope or hemp. It was extremely picturesque and I loved the swirly road behind us.

W
We carried on, feeling a little peckish and looking forward to our burger (in a high-rated place), back in Oregon. The road became a little less interesting as we crossed the state border after our brief detour into California, passing through a series of rather dull towns and strip malls. The occasional mountain appeared on the horizon.

W
We arrived at Jaspers Café in Medford at around 1.30pm and it was still bustling, with a reasonable queue outside. We waited about 15 minutes before being seated inside. We ordered a couple of different burgers, peanut butter milkshakes and tater tots (we were going for it!). It was all pretty tasty, although not remotely healthy! We had been eating reasonably healthily, so felt that we deserved a little treat.

After lunch we drove straight up the Route 62 to Crater Lake, which was still some distance away. We stopped about an hour before the lake at Cascade Gorge, which reminded me of the waterfalls and gorges I'd visited in Washington state on my first US road-trip - picturesque, but not massively memorable and tricky to photograph effectively. The highlight there was the tree stump that had continued growing and sealed over the site of the chop.

After another hour or so we reached the turn-off that took us uphill to the crater and paid our entrance fee that would allow us in for the next two days. I was quite excited to see the lake, having seen some pictures of its ridiculous blueness - matching some of the crazy coloured lakes we'd seen a few years earlier in the Canadian Rockies (Peyto and Kinney Lakes, for example!). Unfortunately we were too early in the season to be able to drive around the whole of the crater rim, as there was still a large amount of snow. The west rim road had only just been opened a week or so earlier, so at least we were lucky to be able to drive that much of it (and also it meant that the north entrance was open, which took us the quick way to our overnight stop at Diamond Lake).

The air grew colder as we approached, winding up the Munson Valley Road. Eventually we reached the Rim Village Visitors Centre but continued on the Lodge where we parked. I got the odd glimpse of the lake but couldn't really see it properly or make out the blueness until I got to the overlook. The sky was mostly cloudy, so my first impression wasn't of "Wow! That's so blue!" as much as "Oh, I was expecting it to be bluer!" Initial disappointment aside, we hoped the sun would come out and increase the colour, as we set out to hike up to the Garfield Peak viewpoint.

The trail took as along the rim for a little while before heading steeply uphill looking over expanses of forest to the south, away from the lake, with beautiful sweeping views. It was fairly strenuous, and the air was noticeably thinner. The rock was very red and crumbly. There were a few nice viewpoints on the way up, with the water looking bluer when the sun came out.

A
At one point we came across an incredibly steep section which I found extremely unpleasant and scary - walking across a snow section on a very steep scree slope, which probably wouldn't have been particularly enjoyable without the snow either. I took it very slowly, placing my feet carefully in the existing footprints, one step at a time, my left hand down in the snow on the uphill side of the slope to balance me. I got to the other side feeling miserable, my heart racing, knowing that I'd have to go across it again on the way down; my left hand was also uncomfortably cold (felt a little frost-nippy). The rest of the journey up wasn't too bad, although we had to climb up more snow-covered hills. Finally we reached the viewpoint and the lake looked stunning. I felt calm enough now to get my camera out again! When the sun shone on the water it did look a very intense blue.

h
The journey down was a little challenging, and I ended up sliding down part of the snowy sections on my bottom (not by choice!) - but at least they weren't sheer slopes and I was able to stop eventually. When I got to the snow scree crossing Murray took my bag and went ahead of me. I felt nervous watching him as he raced across. I took it really slowly again, walking steadily in the previous footprints, the right hand this time clutching at the snow for balance. I counted about 40 steps and finally got to the other side - to safety. Murray volunteered to go a couple of steps back across the snow so I could snap a photo of the horrific ordeal on my iPhone!

We got down pretty quickly after that, got back to the car and drove northwards around the rim road, stopping at various viewpoints. The cloud was thickening, and the odd shower passed over us. As I looked at Wizard Island, illuminated briefly by a patch of sun, I noticed a rainbow. Not the most impressive rainbow ever, but not a bad setting for it.

W
We drove the last of the journey with the roof down, the showers now behind us and the sun low in the early evening sky as we headed north to the exit and onwards to Diamond Lake.

As I'd left it so late to book the trip the only place I could find to stay that was reasonably close to the lake was Diamond Lake, a resort about 20 miles north. I'd had to phone up to book, and they then sent me a credit card slip that I had to complete and mail back to them (a little old-fashioned and laborious in these days of technology and usually instant payment and confirmation!). It had pretty lousy reviews and it was clear why when we arrived. It was an enormous lakeside resort, with all sorts of lodging options, from motel-style blocks that we were staying in, to bigger apartments, cottages, and camping. Our room was pretty atrocious, without even any soap, which seemed a bit tight for a $99 per night room. It looked as if it had been fitted about 20 years earlier. We headed to the main building to get supper, hoping for a pizza, but the pizza place turned out to have been at a different location at the southern end of the lake. We ended up ordering a couple of different salads, which weren't too bad, and they did at least have a decent craft beer selection, and the staff were friendly.

It was a pretty setting, but there were so many mosquitoes around that I couldn't be bothered to get deeted up, get the proper camera out and take any decent photos, so I just got a quick iPhone shot of the post-sunset sky. We bought a couple of beers in the shop and headed back to our miserable room and watched some rubbish on TV before nodding off fairly early.

Map of the day's drive from Gold Beach to Crater Lake

Click here for my Samuel Boardman blogClick here for my blog on the drive from Crater Lake to Bend