En route to Northern Idaho via Water

One of the turquoise gems of my childhood, the Payette Lake, was cold to the touch as I dipped a cheap piece of xerox paper into the water Thursday.  Other than a few boaters and families on the shore, it was calm and quiet. A distinguishing feature of this lake are the pine needles and minute pieces of bark that are now floating in my specimen bottle.

Slowly but surely a plan is formulating to take these photographs into the next realm, something to look forward to in Indiana.

[The above two images were taken in McCall at the park "downtown."]

After the snow melts, the water is rarely clear and I marveled at the fact that my brother and I swam at the Slate Creek Campground on the Salmon River on several occasions. It is roughly 20' closer to the shore than anything I remember in the past, flowing into the parking lot near the campsites.

Logs churned upstream in whirlpools. Grass that will undoubtedly die in July from lack of precipitation swayed in the murk along the shore.

  

Here is  the Clearwater River taken from Lewiston Hill; it is included so no one can ever accuse me of ignoring polluted bodies of water from areas that aren't located in the Midwest.  How could I ignore a river named Clearwater? The irony of its location next to a pulp mill (above) was never lost upon me.

Struggling without three hands while trying to take photographs through the binoculars with the iPhone is becoming an ongoing theme.

My cousin and I arrived in Coeur d'Alene in the evening. We wandered around the resort taking photographs on the iPhone. This was the lake we always drove past (because Pend Oreille was much better) but we did spend time at the resort once for my mother's insurance conference. These photographs are a reminder of that time period.

Soundtrack: Van Halen blasting on a lime green speedboat driven by two men straight out of the 1980s.

My attempt at making Northern Idaho look like I momentarily visited the Adriatic Sea.

View of the boardwalk from the bridge (standing above dozens of swallow nests).

My favorite photograph of the day: hotel art at the resort (I only documented the chocolate cake).

Clear Creek, Indiana

Clear Creek, Indiana, October 2013

While on the Ucross residency, I stumbled upon an 1893 United States Postal Guide displayed in a glass case in the waiting area of the Big Red House. I was struck by the page it was turned to featuring all the places in the US with the name "Clear." Two of them were in Indiana ("oh, the irony" was my second impression).

Over the past year and a half, Brent Cole and I have experimented with exposing cyanotypes on glass followed by firing them in the kiln. The blue is quickly transformed into various hues of brown depending on the temperature. My concept involved using the clear water samples but it wasn't until Wyoming, did I realize that there was something more.

I visited Clear Creek, Indiana last weekend, collecting a gallon of water from the surprisingly translucent stream. I plan on making artwork with the contents, extending further than photographs of the sample. The end product will, in part, comment on turning the seemingly clear water (represented as blue) into the polluted cesspool that it really is (symbolized by brown).

From the City of Bloomington website:

"Riparian habitat damage, sedimentation, excess nutrients and algae, toxic substances, and sewage-related problems contribute to severe habitat degradation in some stretches of Clear Creek. In Indiana's most recent Integrated Water Monitoring and Assessment Report, Clear Creek was in multiple locations not assessed for its ability to support certain designated uses. However, the data that is available shows that certain stretches of Clear Creek are impaired by contamination from E. coli, mercury, and PCBs. These findings are consistent with the history of Clear Creek, which has consistently been described as impaired by the presence of toxic contaminants."

Clear Lake is next on the list before winter arrives.

San Solomon Springs - Balmorhea State Park

From the Texas State Park website: 

"Dive into the cool waters of the world’s largest spring-fed swimming pool, which covers 1.75 acres and stays at 72–76 degrees year round. Scuba divers love the clarity even at a 25-foot depth....Fed by San Solomon Springs, 22 – 28 million gallons of water flow through it each day. At 25 feet deep, and with a capacity of more than 3.5 million gallons, the pool has plenty of room for swimmers and offers a unique setting for scuba and skin diving."

Texas was the first place I lived where touching water was not an option. I was convinced that water moccasins lived in every bayou and was horrified at the thought of immersing myself in the opaque brown liquid of the Gulf of Mexico in Galveston. Brown water is not enticing, nor is it refreshing or a sought after location to spend time near. Growing up, brown water meant flooding - the swiftly moving excess that required sand bags and the hope of containment.

When I was in Marfa last month, I realized that Balmorhea (with the exception of San Marcos and Barton Springs) was one of the few clear and enticing bodies of water I had visited in Texas. As simple as it seems, it is not merely about the water, but the context of the place around it. Balmorhea is not like its surroundings - the muddy Rio Grande in Big Bend National Park or the Pecos River curling through the sagebrush covered hills.

In 2009, I dove off one of the white "pillars" into the cool water and swam to the other side. There were fish all around me and scuba divers underneath. The temperature of the water fluctuated with the depth and it was clear for 25'. This was the first place where I swam outdoors in Texas that felt like "home" and it was one of the most refreshing experiences with water I have ever had. In 2013, I repeated that action with far less people and cooler weather.

Its proximity to absolutely nothing amplifies the desert oasis description. Balmorhea is a difficult place to visit and its remoteness makes it more special.

Clear Water Sample: Cesky Krumlov, Czech Republic

For anyone planning a trip to the Czech Republic, Cesky Krumlov is breathtaking. This small town that resembled a fairy tale, quickly established itself as one of my favorite places in all of Europe. I waited to collect my water sample until driving south 2.5 hours from Prague to visit this location, not too far from the Austrian border.

The fountain in the main square presented itself as ideal the evening before. I hoped that the sun would be in the right position the next day and we returned repeatedly to make sure. Cass and I climbed the castle tower as seen in the above photograph to show an "aerial" perspective of the fountain below.

[Photo courtesy of Cass Fey]

The fountain as seen on the visitor's map.

If this water looks refreshing, it was all I could do not to slide in while the hot sun was beating through me. It was the clearest, most enticing fountain I ever laid eyes on.

Perhaps I was jaded because everything about Cesky Krumlov was ideal. Note to self: must return one day.