In the summer of 2006 I
took another trip to the American southwest and had the opportunity to
revisit one of the most spectacular subterranean landscapes on planet
Earth, the incredible and other-worldly Carlsbad Caverns in southeastern
New Mexico. I had first visited these caverns in 1972 as a teenager on a
trip with my parents, armed with a Kodak Pocket Instamatic camera, and
while the photographic results from that trip were very disappointing, the
experience and impressions remained with me for many years thereafter. I
always wanted to go back and try to photograph it more properly, and now
that I have considerably better photographic equipment, I made the
suggestion to revisit during an annual trip to the region.

This photo shows the
amphitheater at the natural entrance to the caverns where visitors can sit
each evening at sundown and watch the hundreds of thousands of bats, which
inhabit an area of the cave not open to visitors, make their daily flight
for a nighttime of gorging themselves on insects. No photography of any
kind is permitted for the bat flights, mainly because flash units have a
tendency to disorient the bats.
From an unattributed online
history: "The vast caverns began as an organic reef complex in the inland
sea which covered southern New Mexico during the Permian period about 240
million years ago. This reef was covered by the sediment of subsequent
seas for millennia and then about sixty million years ago, earth movements
caused an uplift that fractured the reef, which was now buried beneath the
surface of the earth. This fracture allowed water to filter down through
the reef and dissolve parts of the limestone. Over millions and millions
of years, the water created crevices, then pockets, and finally the huge
rooms one can see today. Then, about three million years ago, the uplift
that created the Guadalupe Mountains (also a reef), lowered the water
table and the water drained out of the caverns and was replaced by air."

As you get closer to the
natural entrance, you begin to get an idea of the scale of what you are
about to enter. The little blurry things visible in the photo above are
birds which are constantly flying around at the cavern's entrance. The
natural entrance is one of two ways to get into the caverns, and involves
walking down a paved and very well-maintained trail that winds its way
into the caverns and descends about 800 feet from the surface. The
alternative way in, if you don't have the time to devote to the full
self-guided tour, is via elevator from the visitor center, which takes you
directly down 800 feet to the Big Room. Once you have paid your six dollar
entrance fee at the visitor center and made your way to the natural
entrance, a park ranger stops you and asks whether you are physically fit
enough to make the descent – it's really not all that strenuous for a
healthy person – and gives you some last minute instructions. Stay on the
trails, don't touch the formations, be quiet, and so on.

That's a big hole in the
ground, and you can see the trail descending through a series of
switchbacks that keep the grade to about 2%, but since you will be walking
that grade for over a mile, you will begin to feel it in your legs after a
while. Once you get into the caverns you will notice that it's a lot
cooler than the surrounding desert, in fact, the temperature inside
remains at about 56 degrees (F) year-round, so you might want to wear a
light sweater. It's also quite humid inside, after all, since water is
what formed the caverns and its formations in the first place, and
continues to form them now. So the trail can be wet in many places, and
good walking shoes with grippy rubber soles are a good idea.

Once inside, turn around
and take a look at that big hole in the ground from the other side.
Remember what daylight looks like, because you won't see it again for a
while. This photo, as well as all the remaining photos in this series, was
taken using a tripod and a cable shutter release. This is really the only
way to take a successful photograph within the caverns. Flash photography,
while allowed, will not work because of the vast spaces you will find
yourself in. Even the most powerful flash units will simply not have the
power to illuminate more than 15-20 feet in front of your camera.
Attempting to photograph with a hand-held compact digital camera will
simply not produce anything even remotely close to what your eyes are
seeing. You will, nonetheless, encounter many visitors who are attempting
to do just that, and I suppose it's hard to blame them for trying, but the
constant flashes are somewhat annoying to a serious photographer. Tripods
are allowed, so long as you remember to be courteous to other visitors and
not block the trails.

This is as close as you can
get to the bat cave portion of the caverns, which is probably just as well
since the bats cling to the ceilings and their droppings, well, drop. In
fact, in the early modern history of the caverns, the mining of bat guano
for use as fertilizer was a major commercial operation. It would be useful
for you to know, also, that although this and most of the remaining
photographs appear to be very well-lighted, this is not what you will see
with your eyes. Carlsbad Caverns are in fact very dimly lit, mainly
because brighter lighting would encourage the growth of algae which can
damage the formations, and although they utilize a combination of
incandescent and fluorescent lighting, it is all very neutral in color to
the eye – not the camera, as you will see. They don't go for the bright,
artificially colored lighting that some other caverns do, and the result
is much more tranquil and natural, although granted that the most natural
lighting would be absolutely none at all, a blackness so black that you
could not see your hand in front of your face.

If there were no artificial
lighting, this would be one of the last opportunities to find your way
out. Looking back from the bat cave towards the natural entrance, you can
see how a shaft of daylight illuminates the floor of the cavern, strewn
with boulders. The lines that zigzag across the bluish tinted area – the
big hole in the ground – are the path that brings you to this point. While
that hole in the ground may have looked big when you started down, you can
clearly see from this photo just what a massive space lies just beyond,
and this is small in comparison with what lies ahead, that is, below.

Here's another shot from
the same vantage point, zoomed in on the last view of the entrance, in
which you can see the path down a little more clearly and even make out
the railings alongside the trail. That massive pillar on the right seems
to be doing a good job at holding up the ceiling, despite its somewhat
precarious angle. It hasn't moved in several million years, so its
probably safe. By the way, on the technical aspects of this shoot, I chose
to only bring one lens with me into the caverns, that being the Sigma
17-70mm f/2.8-4.5 DC Macro lens that I had recently acquired. I chose it
in part because it was new to me at the time and I wanted to check it out
in a challenging photographic environment, but also because it has the
widest field of view of any of my zoom lenses – since I knew that I would
be photographing very large spaces – and because of its relatively small
physical size and light weight.

Winding your way down, the
space narrows a bit from the huge room that you entered just past the
natural entrance, and you pass many spectacular formations. There is now
absolutely no more light from the entrance visible, in fact, you can't
even see the entrance any more, and you begin to notice the sound of water
dripping constantly and from every direction, echoing eerily in the
vastness. It becomes quite dim at this point, and while there is no
problem seeing where the path is, operating the camera can become somewhat
problematic. My original intention had been to disconnect my camera from
the tripod after I finished each shot and carry the tripod separately to
the next shot, with the camera hanging around my neck. It soon became
apparent, however, that it was easier just to leave the camera attached to
the tripod and fold the legs closed while walking to the next shot,
keeping the strap around my neck at all times. It sounds awkward, but we
were taking our time and going very slowly, and in the low light it was
too much of a hassle to even re-fit the tripod shoe into the quick-release
socket on the tripod without difficulty. Even seeing the camera controls
was a problem, and the light from a cell phone screen came in handy
several times.

Do not take the neck strap
off from around your neck if you go down here with any kind of good camera
gear. There are just too many opportunities for you to drop it, and if you
do you will probably never see it again. As an aside, I remember years ago
exploring Enchanted Rock in central Texas with some friends of mine.
Enchanted Rock is a enormous granite dome that rises from the Texas Hill
Country, and it has a huge fissure on one side that runs from ground level
to about midway to the summit. This fissure is filled with boulder rubble
and can be negotiated like a cave, even though it's not. My friends
decided they wanted to go down into this fissure, and I was the only on of
the group who had brought a flashlight. I was little wary of this
adventure, but went down a little way with them, squeezing through narrow
passages that had to be negotiated by putting your arms through first and
then pulling the rest of your body through.
We went down and reached a
little room where we smoked a joint by the light of my flashlight. I
became a little concerned for our safety and decided to return to the room
above which was the last place where the light from outside and the way
out could be seen, and waited for my friends, who still had my flashlight.
I could hear their voices as they attempted to make their way back up, and
then heard the unmistakable sound of the plastic housing of my flashlight
hitting the rocks, bouncing off one and then the other, and getting
fainter each time. This was followed by the voice of one of my friends who
succinctly said, "Uh oh!" Fortunately they all emerged safely, but I never
saw that flashlight again.
So I guess the main point
of this story would be to leave your camera strapped around your neck,
unless you want to hear it bouncing off the rocks into places where no one
has gone before.

You have to be patient if
you want to do good photography in Carlsbad Caverns. Plan to spend the day
and be considerate of the other visitors who for the most part are in a
much bigger hurry than you are. They will come briskly walking by,
flashing their cheap little compact digital cameras with abandon. Do not
mind them as they will pass, although depending on the time of year you
visit, and even the time of day, you may have to be more patient than
others. A tripod can easily block more than half the width of the pathway,
so if there's a large group approaching you from behind, fold your tripod
legs together and wait them out so you can get your shot in peace. This
works both ways, too, because we found that most of the other visitors
were equally considerate of us "serious" photographers, waiting for us if
we were in the middle of a long exposure until we finished our shot. Oddly
enough, though, my sister and I were the only ones we saw in the caverns
on the day we visited who were doing serious photography.

It's difficult to tell from
most of these photographs the scale of what it is that you're looking at.
Suffice it to say that just about everything you see here is huge. That
formation above is probably eight stories tall, for example – the size of
a building. That's why you need a good wide-angle lens. As far as exposure
times go, the vast majority of these images were between 20 and 30 seconds
long and most were shot at f/11 to provide for enough depth of field to
keep everything in focus. I quickly found that it was not possible to
depend upon auto-focus – there simply is not enough light for auto-focus
to grab onto anything, so you have to set your focus manually. I tried to
use ISO 100 whenever possible to provide the greatest detail and minimal
amount of digital noise, but my camera will only allow for a 30 second
maximum exposure time, so if a shot required it, I would switch to ISO 200
or 400 as the scene and lighting conditions dictated. Again, I cannot
stress enough that these photographs are not what you will see with your
eyes if you visit the caverns – they are what the camera saw, and the
camera is a lot more sensitive than your eyes in conditions like these.

Scale is everything here,
and the scale of Carlsbad Caverns is huge. Those stalagmites are 20-30
feet tall, and you can see how far they are away from the ceiling of this
space. I liked the way they positioned a light in the cave below this
formation, and you can also begin to see how the different light sources
used in the caverns affects the way in which images resolve. Obviously the
light coming from the cave below the stalagmites is an incandescent
source, so its color is shifted towards the red end of the spectrum.
Conversely they chose to illuminate the majority of the space above with
fluorescent lighting, which shifts the color there towards the green. Who
is to say what natural lighting is in a case like this, since the natural
state of affairs this far underground is absolute blackness. While you are
making your way around, the differences in the lighting spectrums don't
make themselves readily apparent – as I said, it's all very dimly and
neutrally lit as far as your eyes are concerned. It's only when you take a
long exposure with your camera that the subtle differences are
exaggerated.

Many of the formations that
you can see along the walls tend to look like whale baleen, which is a
curious way of nature imitating itself.

Certainly the most famous
example of that would be the formation above, which is called The Whale's
Mouth.

And speaking of nature
imitating itself, well... Draw your own conclusion.

Keeping scale in
perspective, this formation is probably about 40 feet tall.

It's a giant guacamole
mixing machine, right? But wait, guacamole isn't supposed to be crunchy!
The difference in color between the incandescent and fluorescent lighting
is readily apparent in this photo.

And yet, I think there are
three distinctly different color spectra used in the above two photos. The
bright and almost purely white light appears to be something of a
different color temperature entirely. That ceiling from which all those
stalactites hang is about 80-100 feet above the vantage point from which
this photo was taken.

One of the really cool
things about Carlsbad Caverns is that they are still being explored after
all this time, and in addition to the main areas open to the general
public for self-guided tours, there are also several areas open to guided
tours for the more adventurous explorer. You have to make reservations for
these trips, and they get a little more involved than the nicely
maintained walkways of the main portion of the caverns, such as squeezing
yourself through tight spaces, descending ladders and such. There are many
places on the main tour, though, that provide a glimpse into the
possibilities, such as this photo which appears to be a portal into
another portion of the caverns, perhaps explored, perhaps not yet.

Imagine what it must be
like to take a trip down this passageway. Obviously park personnel have,
at least to the extent that they placed and wired the lights illuminating
it, but what lies beyond?

There are quite a number of
little rooms like the one seen in this photo which are purely heavenly in
their appearance, with such delicacy and fantasy to their structure. They
appear so inviting by their sheer beauty, yet invariably they lead
somewhere beyond and unseen. Human nature tells us to be wary of such
places, but there is a sense of calm and tranquility here which transcends
instinct. There is no fear of the unknown here, even though the unknown
lies just beyond the light.

Another view of the same
scene, zoomed out a bit. By this point in our tour, my sister – the other
photographer on this expedition, although all these photographs are my own
– and I, had become separated by several hundreds of yards on the pathway,
each doing our own thing in our own time. My brother-in-law was going back
and forth between us keeping tabs on our locations and being remarkably
patient as my sister and I were glued to our cameras. The crowds of midday
had finally died down, so there were less interruptions from groups of
people passing by, which made it easier to concentrate, and now we were in
the Big Room.

It's been said that the
aptly named Big Room in Carlsbad Caverns could hold 14 Astrodome-sized
stadiums side-by-side under its 256 foot high ceiling. In a word it is
huge beyond your wildest imagination, and thus it is impossible to capture
its scale in a photograph. A 1-1/4 mile path leads you on a tour around
and through it – this being the shorter tour if you opted to enter via the
elevators from the visitor center.

Can you spot the man-made
structures in this photograph? Just to the right of the large stalagmite
in the center of the photo, you can see a small segment of the walkway
with its handrails on the far side of the room. To the left of the double
stalagmite on the left side of the photo is another segment of the walkway
with a small informational plaque. At various points in the big room, if
you look really closely, you can also see various electrical cables which
the park technical staff has, for the most part, done a very good job at
concealing.

Another view of the Big
Room in which you can also see a portion of the visitor walkway snaking
its way among the formations, also showing a good view of the many
thousands of stalactites hanging from the ceiling. Stalactites are like
icicles made of rock, as water seeps through the cavern ceiling and
deposits mineral content. Often a stalagmite will form on the cavern floor
directly below where a stalactite has formed above, and if they eventually
meet they can form a column. If you think watching paint dry is a slow
process, you would have to hang around for millions of years to actually
see a column form.

Here is a good example of
the difference between a stalagmite and a column.

So which one of these
skyscraper-sized stalagmites in the Big Room's "Hall of Giants" is going
to become a column first? My bet would be the one on the right. Just to
the right of its pinnacle you can see it beginning to join with a
stalactite. The fact that these behemoths have grown to such heights gives
you some idea of the geological stability of the caverns. I would not
worry about the roof caving in anytime soon, although having said that
there is the famous Iceberg Rock in the natural entrance corridor that
weighs an estimated 200,000 tons. They think it fell from the ceiling a
mere "thousands of years" ago.

Here is another nice view
of a small portion of the Big Room. You can see some of the wide-angle
lens distortion in the angle of the large stalactite in the upper-right
portion of the photo, which actually hangs perfectly vertically. The same
effect can be seen in the Hall of Giants photo preceding.

And here is one final view
of another portion of the Big Room in which, again, you can see some of
the pathways that guide you around. This was a 25 second exposure, f/11,
ISO 200, focal length 33mm (52.8mm equivalent) for anyone interested in
that sort of thing. One of the things that I noticed when I got home and
began editing these images was totally unexpected to me, but has to do
with the digital image sensor in the camera heating up during the long
exposures that were necessary to capture these images. All the while the
camera shutter is open, current is obviously flowing through the image
sensor, and because of the extremely small spaces between the individual
pixels in the sensor, heat builds up and will eventually overheat some of
those pixels.
How that manifests itself
is apparent in darker portions of the image, in which random pixels will
heat up to the point where they become overexposed and create tiny whitish
dots usually surrounded by the eight adjacent pixels which are also
affected and somewhat overexposed. You don't notice it until you zoom way
in on your image, but since I was preparing many of my images for printing
at 12x18 inches, it became quite a job to manually scan back and forth
over each image and retouch every one of these little heat blooms that I
could find before printing. I suspect that this situation would have even
been worse if not for the relatively low ambient temperature of the
caverns.
My sister, brother-in-law,
and I spent more than six hours during this little expedition, from the
time we started down the natural entrance until we exited via the
elevators back to the visitor center, and we were among the last to leave.
It didn't seem like we had spent nearly that much time, although as I
said, my sister and I were focused on the photography, and there is no way
to do a decent job of that if you're not patient. You will have to deal
with the endless stream of other visitors, the vast majority of which are
not planning to spend nearly that much time on their visit. But with a
halfway decent digital SLR, a good lens, a tripod, patience, and the will
to do it, this is one of the best photographic experiences you could
possibly have.