Aerial Photography Tips in Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve

While working at Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve this summer, documenting research and cultural events, one of the amazing things I was able to do was a flightseeing tour! If it hadn’t been for my summer job, I don’t think I would have gotten this chance as soon as I did because the flights are a little pricey for me personally at this point in my life. Luckily, our team leader organized schedules for us to fly with an awesome National Park Service pilot over the mountains and glaciers of Wrangell St. Elias!

Our pilot was the amazing, Lynn Ellis, who grew up in the remote Nabesna area and has been flying pretty much his entire life. At the young age of 16 he learned to fly from his father and has been flying ever since.  As you can imagine, Lynn has a lot of intimate knowledge of the land. Growing up in the area has allowed him to create a unique relationship with the expansive landscape of Wrangell St. Elias, meaning a flight with Lynn as your pilot is quite the treat! To top it all off, one of my coworkers who came on the same flight as me grew up near the area and had known Lynn for a while. If it weren’t already special enough to be gliding over all the magnificent rock and ice, I was also extra fortunate to hear all the personal stories and connections these two had to the land. 

This was the first time I had flown over the park and the first time I was able to casually fly in a small plane, but I had previously flown in a small plane for work. They were very fast, business flights though! Those first couple experiences allowed me to be more prepared for this flight, so I’d thought I’d share some tips in case you too find yourself fortunate enough to be soaring over gorgeous scenery and want to capture your experience.

• Packing: Keep your gear minimal and in a small pack! My first time on a small plane was when I was flying from Yakutat to Dry Bay on a real quick, all business kind of flight. We had to shove everything underneath the plane, but of course I wanted my camera and my water bottle (I hate not having access to hydration, ha). I figured it was best to keep it to these two items and hold them in my lap. Turned out, juggling these both in my lap in the tiny front seat of our plane was a little trickier than I had thought! It would have been nicer to have a small bag or pack with me that I could set in my lap and either pull out my water or my camera when I needed. It can be hard to maneuver once your set up in the plane, so it’s nice to have everything right in your lap and contained so it’s not rolling around as the plane moves. On my flightseeing tour, this is what I did and it was a lot easier to coordinate my items.

• Prepping: Prepare your camera ahead of time! Like I mentioned above, it can be pretty hard to maneuver inside small planes. The first flight I went on I didn’t want to move too much since I was in the front seat and could have easily bumped the pilot or buttons! Granted, pilots are professionals and are probably used to this, my way of operating during photography is always to minimize my affect on the experience. I like being a fly on the wall that captures reality as it unfolds and this idea tends to seep into my life even when not on a shoot. However, if your camera already has a full battery, cleared memory cards with lots of room, and a good lens on it, then you won’t have to worry about doing this in flight. Have it all set up before you even climb in that plane and you can fully focus on taking in the view instead.

• Lens: Choose a wide lens or a zoom lens! I’m really stubborn when it comes to using zoom lens. When shooting portraits it’s super easy to stick a 50mm on my camera and move around when I want a different view. Shooting dynamic landscape photos are a little different though (much to past me’s disappointment). A zoom lens can be wonderful when you are limited in movement, but want a variety of views. On my first flight I brought my trusted 50mm, which did get some beautiful shots. Yet, I found myself wanting the chance to move around. Sure, you will fly over a new and exciting view, but you’ll want a different perspective. For this tour I brought my 28mm to 85mm lens. It was great to get variety, which brings me to my next point…

• Switch it up: Video and photo, wide and close, vertical and horizontal, out the window and inside the plane. Get a bunch of different perspectives even if you are hovering above the same area. It’s been really fun for me to look at my photos as a set and see the different views I captured. I also really like creating films, so I made sure to get lots of video from this flight. I was able to use some of the footage in short videos I made for Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve, that hopefully I will be able to share very soon.

• Finally, don’t lean against the plane! I kept finding myself trying to make this work, but any small plane is going to have a lot of vibration. Your video shots will be a lot smoother and your photos will be sharper if you just hold up your camera yourself. No need to rest against the plane.

There’s the advice I’ve collected from my few times in a small plane. I hope they can be useful to you! These images feel a lot different to me than ones from a drone. Shots sourced from both techniques are gorgeous, and of course it’s not always reasonable to fly up in a small plane, but personally, I love the feel. Maybe it’s the memories they bring back or the glassy view from inside the plane. What are your thoughts? Do these shots feel different to you compared to drone shots? Let me know!

Following Glaciers: A New Understanding of "Naturalist" | Wrangell St. Elias National Park Photography

Years ago I had hit a dead end. I continued to do the same work without growth. There were pockets of new opportunities in between the monotony, but I couldn’t give myself to those chances fully. I was stifled in parts of my life and it seemed to be seeping into every aspect of my life! I’d work in ways to push myself even in the monotony, but it wasn’t enough. I knew it was possible to grow exactly where I was and yet I really needed space from everything I knew to truly stretch in a new way. That’s when I decided it was time to really push myself. So, I applied to work as a media intern at Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve in Alaska for four months. There, I was able to fulfill my personal and career goals working in visual communications, documenting science and research, cultural events, and history in the nation’s largest park through photography and video!

Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve is home to the largest glacial system in the country. The glaciers within its borders are the headwaters for many of the river systems that flow through the park and towards Alaska’s seas. Along this journey from glacier to ocean, these rivers shape the land as well as the living communities, connecting people, animals, and plants. My work followed the flow of these watersheds, from interviewing scientists who study the evolving glaciers and their effects on the environment, to the people who rely on the rivers to provide nourishing salmon for their families, to the communities whose histories are forever intertwined with the ancient landforms. In a place where people and nature are so clearly tied together, it’s more obvious to me than ever before that conservation is not simply about land, but history, culture, and people as well.

After my four months there, it’s still my first media assignment that drove this message home with the most power. On a trip to the southern coast of the park, during a visit to a site that was historically significant to the Yakutat Tlingit, I met many new faces and heard many new stories. Oral histories passed around campfires from elders to youth to connect new generations to their ancestors and their personal identities. One elder, while reflecting on his personal reasons for providing this opportunity to the youth, told me of the time he learned his grandfather had been a guide for naturalist and “Father of the National Parks”, John Muir. He told me before learning about his grandfather he wasn’t very confident, but knowing who his grandfather was gave him pride. From then on he learned as much as he could about his grandfather and his culture, modeling his life after his ancestor’s philosophy. This conversation made me realize how important inclusivity is in conservation.

Our conversation also began my search for naturalists and conservationists outside of the white faces we’re already familiar with. John Muir, Aldo Leopold, even my beloved Jane Goodall. While providing lots of important ideas and thoughts to ponder, they still only provide a limited view.  There are so many more important perspectives we’re missing when we don’t broaden our ideas of nature writing. So, if you too are looking to see the landscapes you love through fresh eyes with new experiences different from your own, then feel free to use these suggestions as a jumping off point:

• The Colors of Nature: This collection explores the relationship between culture and place through many different authors from various backgrounds, so it’s a great place to discover more writers (like Jamaica Kincaid, who’s A Small Place always pulls me back, Robin Wall Kimmerer, or Lauret Savoy).

• Camille Dungy’s Black Nature: an anthology of nature writing by African American poets.

• Carolyn Finney’s Black Faces, White Spaces: an examination of the natural environment and how it is represented by black and white Americans.

 After all, we’re not just protecting land for future generations, but protecting history, culture, and identity as well. The more people and ideas included in conservation efforts, the more that can be achieved. Feel free to share some of your favorite “nature” writings with me in the comments as well!

Alaskan Wilderness | Esker Stream in Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve

“Alaska is already more amazing than I could have imagined. I really don’t know what I expected. A lot of wilderness for sure, but the people I’ve met, the thoughts they’ve shared with me, the magic of nature dripping everywhere I turn, the traces of creation and destruction with each step, is all beyond the idea of wilderness I had prior to coming here. The wilderness I have found here is a deep connection and respect between all living things. The idea that we are a part of a larger and very necessary ecosystem is ever apparent. I can see where I’ve come from, the people and history that have led up to me, and my respect grows bigger and bigger with the more I unearth. Lives here are so deeply intertwined with the land that wilderness doesn’t just mean nature, but people as well. So, if we want to protect the land, then we want to protect the people and their identities too. These are all ideas I had before and yet somehow they seem so distant when I reflect back just a few months. These Alaskan identities have also taught me about mine. We are all wild things too, but for so long I was taught that I’m to be tame. Now here I am; a tame thing grown wild in a matter of weeks.”

Reading my own past writings I go through an array of emotion: embarrassment to inspiration. It can be a bit painful to poke through old thoughts, especially my handwritten ones. They tend to be more free flowing attempts to wan poetically and unapologetically.  A version of me that can be hard to keep up with sometimes, but probably the part of me I owe for all my goals and aspirations and the motivation to live them into reality! I thought I might share this piece edited, but I decided that anything other than my original thoughts wouldn’t paint the lovely picture that once I can get pass the pure mortification of whimsical, past Ali, I can soak in and mull over the tidbits of wisdom.

When I came to Alaska, I already had an understanding of wilderness and our connection to it. These were ideas I read, thought, and wrote about often. If I had ever read a rambling such as the one above while I was back in Arizona I would have rolled my eyes. “You go to “The Last Frontier” and think the rest of us don’t understand these concepts? These are ideas that touch all of us!” And it’s true. The concept of nature, wilderness, and our connections to them are everywhere. Hiding in little pockets of our communities we wouldn’t even think to consider! I would have hated to think that the wilderness in Alaska was any more special than the wilderness people can find in the city. I still won’t say it is either. It is different though! There is a different type of special found in Alaskan wilderness than the special in places I visited back home. Not better in my mind, but definitely different. It’s this difference that allowed me to view things in a new light. 

A lot of people have a very specific definition of wilderness. Merriam-Webster defines wilderness as: “an area essentially undisturbed by human activity together with its naturally developed life community”.  In The Wilderness Act of 1964, our nation went even further to lay out the meaning of this word, which you can read here if you’d like. But most of us have our own personal meaning of wilderness. Proper definitions fall to the wayside when it comes to our intimate relationships with the world. At first, being surrounded by people who had what appeared to be a stricter version of wild meant frustrating to me. It seemed to leave out others who experienced the same kind of natural magic and inspiration in the outdoors simply because what they had access to was a smaller and different space. However, when I realized that people were included in this version of wilderness things began to click for me in a new way. The standard definition, and even our nation’s version of wilderness, doesn’t include people. We are the opposite of wilderness in these definitions! In Alaska though, it seemed many people saw that wilderness was reflected in them. This beautiful idea of humans being a part of the landscape stretched my idea of conservation. If we are to preserve the land, than we are to preserve people too. We have to care and tend to the various human communities we’re surrounded by. And not just the ones whose ties to the land we can clearly see.

The lovely truth is this: we all have ties to the land. Whether we choose to see and understand those ties or not, every person has a personal connection with the land. So many of us have deep, intimate relationships with the same land too, we all begin to overlap. Conservation is not simply about landscapes, but the other people who find a piece of themselves in those landscapes too. It’s not enough to care for the environment. We must also open up our ideas of wilderness and preservation to include those outside of our current grasp of the earth.

When I think about wilderness, I think about all the people connected to that idea as well. I remember that even though it means something different to us all, even different from the traditional definitions, all our experiences deserved to be heard and respected still. I realize that my idea of conservation isn’t just about preaching my thoughts and practices, but actually about listening to gain a better understanding of our communities. What does wilderness mean to you and how does it manifest in your life?