Shasta Road

I had seen road shots of Mount Shasta before, and I really wanted one myself. Last summer, I researched all the locations I could find and spent an entire day driving to all of them. Highway 97 was my favorite. I wanted Shasta to have snow on it, so I would wait till the fall for my first attempt. When Fall came, I didn't like how brown and dead the grass looked. I thought to myself, "this shot would be better if the grass was green." I researched when the grass turned green, and it seemed late April was the time. I asked a photographer friend I had in the area as well and he said, "it's never green, it's high desert over there. If it does, it must just be for a brief period." So I knew whatever window I had would be short. Once April came around, I started taking a couple trips up there a month, only to be disappointed every time. Once it got to June, I started to feel like my window was closing. If I didn't get it soon, I would have to wait till the following year. The time had come to try again, normally I stay with family in Redding, but this time I decided I would sleep in my car if the sunset wasn't good and try the sunrise. I got there an hour before sunset. As the sun descended, I was afraid the clouds were too thick, and lo and behold, it was another failed attempt. Eight tries in and my window was closing. I made my bed in my car and hoped the morning would provide better luck. It was a much colder night than I anticipated, and I didn't sleep that well. I woke up a little over an hour before sunrise, tired of being cold, and also my hips were sore from my sleeping pad. So I decided to just get up, sit in my car with the heater on and wait for the sun to rise.  As the light became dim, I could already see a little pink. Hopeful, I got out of my car and walked down the road a bit. I was beginning to think that it was going to be another dud. But just for a brief moment, the color filled the sky. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was finally here, the colorful sky, snow covered Shasta with an alpine glow, green grass. A year of planning and eight tries later the war was over. I finally got the shot.