The Crooked Aspen of Colorado
Crooked Aspen of Colorado’s San Juan Mountains
When I first saw images of the crooked aspen of Colorado’s San Juan Mountains, I thought, “I’ve got to photograph those.” They were both unique and mystical, so I began to research their location.
I Googled crooked aspen and dancing aspen, read articles, searched photographers' sites, but the only indication I could find was that they were near Ophir. So precious to naturalists, it’s not that their location is a secret. It’s just that no one will tell you where they are.
Ophir, I thought. I can find Ophir and from there I will be on a mission to find the trees.
So…as far as their location, that’s all you’ll get from me. That’s all I got, so I’m not going to be the one who says, “Turn here…” and unravels the location mystery. I like that these mysterious trees are in a mysterious location. Mystery adds to their mysticism.
Years before, I had four-wheeled into this area. It had been a bit frightening, the rough and ruggedness of the trail, but I had made it once. So when I drove into the dense forest, my emotions were caught between fear and anticipation, heightened by the inch of snow that had fallen the previous night.
The road was narrow, the trees encompassing, and the ride rough. At one point, I drove under a fallen tree, and I hoped the trail would remain clear of obstacles. I hit bumps, my SUV bounced, and I felt a bit desperate that the road might become rougher. But I ventured on.
It must have been an old mining road, the San Juans covered with veins of old trails created to move the ore from the hills. But I kept moving on, working through the colors of the dense, fall forest.
As I slowly drove, I was looking into the trees, searching for any sign of a crooked aspen. Moved along, I came upon a slight pulloff, room for a couple of vehicles to park. Across was a narrow trail into the forest. Where it led, I did not know, but I was searching.
I parked, pulled out my camera and tripod, and moved across the 4-wheel drive road down the trail into the forest. As I walked, I looked, scanning for crooked trees. Not far down the trail, I thought I saw one. Then the forest thinned, opening up to a small clearing. It was there that I stopped, transfixed.
There they were, just like in the pictures I’d seen. A small grove of crooked aspen standing as if they were dancing in the forest.
For a while I just watched them, taking in their uniqueness, the beauty they exuded. The dancing appearance was the result of a natural phenomenon where heavy snow, an avalanche, or slow-moving soil creep had bent the young trees. From there, they continued to grow creating the distinctive wavy or crooked appearance.
To capture the vision, I set my tripod low to the ground, squatting to a lower angle. The trees looked mystical, magical, standing in a similar wave as they posed for my camera. Taking several images, I kept making slight adjustments to the tripod to capture the angle of the curves.
Then I moved in closer. Realizing they looked like the neck of a giraffe or was it a pre-historic brachiosaurus’, tall, slender, and wavy. As if reaching up to the light green and fall yellow leaves, the crooked aspens were a contrast to the typical straight, white bark of the trees.
Then I moved the tripod to the base of three dancing aspens bunched closely together. Angling the camera upward, in the sky blue sky the sun burst bright.
For nearly an hour alone in the forest, I selected angles, lighting, and the backdrop to capture the magic of the curved aspen forest. I felt like I was in a different land, one of another time or place that was not known to me. One that would capture beautiful, unique photographs.
When I felt I’d truly experienced the crooked aspens of Colorado, I picked up my tripod, followed the trail back to my SUV, loaded the camera gear, and headed back to Ophir on the 4-wheel drive road.
As I drove, I thought of how lucky I was to have the time and ability to visit such unique places. And I had captured the images to remember that I had danced with the aspen in the hidden forest of southwest Colorado’s San Juan Mountains.
