Joey Priola Wilderness Photography

  • Prints
  • About
  • Contact
  • Blog
  • Cabin Services
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
x

Search Results

Refine Search
Match all words
Match any word
Prints
Personal Use
Royalty-Free
Rights-Managed
(leave unchecked to
search all images)
59 images found
twitterlinkedinfacebook

Loading ()...

  • The Adirondacks in winter is quite possibly my personal favorite photography subject. In particular,  the gnarled and hardy evergreens that occupy tree line and the beginning of the alpine zone make my heart pound and creativity flow unlike anything else found in nature when they become covered with snow in the depths of winter. After climbing the surprisingly deserted trail to the summit of Cascade, I was greeted with a windchill that approached -30 degrees Fahrenheit, and a fantasy-land of pure winter magic unlike anything I had seen before. The challenging weather conditions only added to the experience and made it that much more memorable, and as the sun dipped below the distant mountains and the most intense post-sunset glow I've ever witnessed emanated through the sky, I raced around like a madman capturing as many photos as I could. After the sky shifted from orange, to pink, to blue, to black, I began my descent down the dark and lonely trail, reveling in the feeling of pure ecstasy that only comes from the wilderness and doing what you love most in the world.
    Ecstasy
  • The alpine zone of the Adirondack High Peaks turns into a strange, beautiful, and often inhospitable land in winter. After climbing Algonquin Peak on an atypically sunny and calm day, I spent hours on the summit enjoying and photographing the wind-carved snow drifts and evergreens coated in rime ice.
    Top it Off
  • Indian Falls is a beloved spot in the Adirondack High Peaks, and I have fond memories of laying out on the sun-warmed bedrock next to the falls after my dad and I climbed Mount Marcy together years ago. There would be no lounging around on this day, but the view looking out to the MacIntyre Range from Indian Falls might be even more beautiful in winter.
    Remember When
  • The snowy summit of Whiteface Mountain barely pokes above the clouds at dusk. The pink glow in the sky is known as the "Belt of Venus" and is commonly seen on clear days before sunrise and after sunset. It appears 10-20 degrees above the horizon on top of the Earth's dark blue shadow that's found just above the horizon, and the crisp low humidity days of winter seem to make this phenomenon appear stronger than other times of the year. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Island in the Sky
  • Towering Mount Marcy pokes through the clouds and catches the warm light of sunset. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Layers of Marcy
  • Fiery sunset light sets krummholz (a German word meaning "crooked wood" that's used to describe stunted, windblown trees) coated in rime ice ablaze. Adirondack High Peaks, New York
    Flamethrower
  • Snow-caked trees enjoy the sunset as Mount Colden towers over the valley in the distance. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Marshmallow World
  • Evening lights shines on snowy krummholz and distant mountains as the valley in between plunges into darkness. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    The Darkness In Between
  • The moon shines in the clear winter sky and illuminates snowy evergreens below the summit of Mount Marcy. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Sanctuary
  • Snowy evergreens on the summit of Cascade bask in an incredible post-sunset glow. The stunning beauty of the mountains on this frigid winter day was made all the more memorable by the frigid -30 degree windchill that the evergreens and I endured as we took in the most beautiful winter sunset I've ever seen. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Transcendence
  • Snowy evergreens blanket the slopes of Mount Marcy on a perfect winter day. The harsh and challenging conditions, relative solitude, and otherworldly landscape makes winter by far my favorite season to head to the high mountains. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    The Journey Ahead
  • Moonlight illuminates snowy evergreens on a clear and starry winter night. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Signs in the Sky
  • Krummholz (a German word meaning "crooked wood" that's used to describe stunted, windblown trees) coated in rime ice picks up the delicate post-sunset glow on a frigid summit in the Adirondacks.
    Alpine Ice Garden
  • Snowy evergreens frame a distant Whiteface Mountain in the Adirondack High Peaks on a pristine winter evening.
    Where All the Fun Is
  • Towering, whimsical evergreens caked with snow made it feel like I was hiking to Whoville. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Hiking to Whoville
  • Low-angled evening light struck the snowy landscape at just the right angle to allow a little evergreen sapling to project a shadow much larger than the tree itself. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Projecting Confidence
  • I was afraid that the high winds on this frigid evening would blow over my camera while taking this self-portrait, which was how my first camera met its demise in Shenandoah National Park in 2014, but thankfully my current set-up made it through this unforgettable sunset unscathed. Adirondack High Peaks, NY.
    Mountain Rules
  • Day transitions to night high in the Adirondack Mountains as the final faint glow of sunset yields to the sparking stars.
    Transition
  • Fresh snow blankets the evergreens along the trail to Mount Marcy. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Powder
  • Sometimes a photograph comes to fruition at the spur of the moment, with little to no planning or previsualization. Other times, however, much preparation and just the right circumstances are required for a vision to become reality. This photo of sunset from the snowy alpine zone below the summit of Mount Marcy falls squarely into the latter category, as I had been wanting to make this image for the past three winters before everything came together in early March 2020. After the Adirondacks got covered in 3 feet of snow from possibly the last snow storm of the season, I set off from the Adirondack Loj hopeful that I would finally be able to make the images that I had long sought. The trail conditions were fantastic, as other hikers and skiers had thankfully packed the powder down the previous day. As I gradually crept closer to the summit, my excitement grew as I realized that I'd finally have a chance to capture the photo that I sought for so long. I arrived at the summit area later than I had hoped, as I stopped often en route to the summit to photograph the snowy paradise that I hiked through. The quiet serenity of the forest was abruptly replaced by the howling winds of the alpine zone, and I searched out some compositions while struggling to stay warm. As the sun went down and the landscape was bathed in soft light, the beauty of the scene and the fact that I was capturing the photos that I had sought for so long made me forget about the cold and wind and the long hike out in the darkness. As the sky began to darken and I packed up for the journey down the mountain, I took one last look towards the summit of Marcy, and it dawned on me that in that moment, I was the highest  person in the state. In elevation, as well as spirit. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Above All Else
  • Snow-covered trees frame a distant mountain on a cold and moody evening in the Adirondack Mountains.
    The Road That I Must Choose
  • Warm sunset light illuminates the distant summit of Whiteface on a cold and windy winter evening. Adirondack High Peaks, NY
    Deception
  • Soft moonlight illuminates snowy evergreens on a clear and starry winter night. There are few moments in nature as peaceful as those spent in the lonely, snowy mountains after dark. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Soothe the Soul
  • A beautiful winter sunset from the windblown slopes of Mount Marcy, looking west towards Algonquin. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Leaders of the Pack
  • Beautiful, glowing, and warm sunset light contrasts with snowy evergreens on a frigid winter day. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Floating in Fire
  • Wind-carved snow and trees covered in rime ice created a magical winter scene near the summit of Algonquin Peak, on one of those rare winter days where the sun shines so bright and the air is so still that it makes you wish that spring would never come. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Euphoria
  • Soaking in a cold and beautiful winter sunset from just below a mountain summit in the Adirondacks.
    Energy
  • A skier works their way towards an Adirondack summit on a rare calm and sunny winter day. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Ascension
  • Warm sunset light contrasts with frigid temperatures and illuminates snow-covered evergreens and distant mountains. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Closing Time
  • The alpine zone of the Adirondack High Peaks is one of the most unique geographic zones in New York state. Home to rare and fragile alpine plants, not to mention some unforgettable views, the high mountain summits reward hikers in many ways. While beautiful year-round, there's something extra special about the alpine zone in winter. Constantly evolving based on snow and wind, each trip to this paradise in the sky is filled with surprises in the winter. On this trip to Algonquin, I was intrigued by patterns in the crusty snow that reminded me of the swirling lines of a fingerprint, as if mother nature was leaving her signature on her winter handiwork. Adirondack High Peaks, NY.
    Winter's Fingerprint
  • The snowy landscape picks up a brilliant sunset glow high in the Adirondack Mountains.
    Ice in the Veins
  • Fresh snow covers towering evergreens along the trail to Mount Marcy. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Snow Ghosts
  • High winds below the summit of Mount Marcy carved the snow into interesting patterns and lines. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Hostility
  • Stars begin to fill the moonlit sky at twilight below the summit of Mount Marcy. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Twilight
  • Wind-carved snow and trees covered in rime ice created a magical winter scene near the summit of Algonquin Peak, on one of those rare winter days where the sun shines so bright and the air is so still that it makes you wish that spring would never come. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Chiseled
  • Beautiful sunset light makes the snowy winter landscape come alive. The solitude and dramatic beauty of winter makes it my favorite time of year to explore the mountains. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    My Fingers Hurt
  • Snowy evergreens on a mountain summit bask in an incredible post-sunset glow. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Frozen in Place
  • An evergreen tree near the summit of Algonquin bows under the weight of snow and ice that accumulated over the course of a long winter in the alpine zone. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Weight of Winter
  • Wind-carved snow and trees covered in rime ice created a magical winter scene near the summit of Algonquin Peak, on one of those rare winter days where the sun shines so bright and the air is so still that it makes you wish that spring would never come. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Mesmerized
  • Hardy, snow-covered trees found high up the mountains are one of my favorite winter photography subjects, but what really drew me to this scene was the blanket of clouds on the distant mountains at dusk. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Insulation
  • Beautiful sunset light makes the snowy winter landscape come alive. The solitude and dramatic beauty of winter makes it my favorite time of year to explore the mountains. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Higher and Higher
  • Whiteface Mountain rises up from the valley into the clouds, as seen from below the summit of Mount Marcy. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Layers of Whiteface
  • On clear and cold winter days after a fresh snowfall, nothing is more fun to me than tramping through the snowy mountains seeking out the beauty of winter. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Tramping Through the Snow
  • The setting sun broke through the clouds just enough to bring the snowy landscape to life. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Renewal
  • There's nothing like exploring the High Peaks after a snowstorm. After photographing the sunset from just below the summit of Marcy, descending into the sanctuary of the forest was a welcome escape from the hostile, wind-raked alpine zone. Soft moonlight illuminated the snowy evergreens with delicate light, and my descent of the mountain took much longer than it should have as I stopped often to attempt to capture the beauty. I passed this stand of evergreens on my way to the summit earlier in the day, and immediately became enraptured by the large tree on the left of this photo, as I had never before seen a tree caked with so much snow. The light from the moon was just strong enough to illuminate the snowy trees, and a slight halo in the thin fog around the moon added a final touch of etherealness. Knowing that I was the only person still out on the mountain made this moment all the more special, and helped to make the experience one of the most memorable ones I've had in these mountains. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    To the Heavens
  • Evergreens covered in rime ice stand like frozen sentinels at dusk keeping guard of the alpine zone of Algonquin Peak. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    Summit Sentinels
  • An evergreen branch coated in rime ice reaches out like the frosty hand of winter on a sunny but frigid January day. Adirondack High Peaks, New York.
    A Touch of Frost
  • Intense sunset light illuminates the snowy mountains on a cold winter day. Light like this is incredibly fleeting, but witnessing the snowy landscape come to life while on a deserted summit makes the time and effort required to experience and photograph these special moments oh so worth it. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Always Worth It
  • Soft sunset light spreads across the sky and adds some warmth to the snowy winter mountains. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    A Winter Friend
  • A band of post-sunset color adds a touch of vibrancy to the snowy and moody winter mountain landscape. Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    The Thrill of Exploration
  • Skiers hoof their way to some backcountry turns in the Adirondacks. Watching them whiz down the mountain as I trudged along made me wish I could replace my snowshoes with some skis!
    Summit Reward
  • Krummholz covered in rime ice catches the brilliant sunset light on a perfect winter day in the Adirondack High Peaks.
    Warp Speed
  • A rock climber works his way up Otter Cliff, which juts 100 feet straight up from the Atlantic Ocean in Maine's Acadia National Park.
    Adventure Acadia
  • While climbing a rugged mountain might be more exhilarating, sometimes what the soul needs is to just sit and listen to the soothing sound of a waterfall after a short forest stroll.  Adirondack Mountains, New York.
    Soothing Sound of Nature
  • It’s about the journey, not the destination. This well-worn saying can be applied to almost any context, but may hold most true when used in regards to climbing mountains. The sense of achievement, awe, and wonder gained from moving your being to a mountain summit rivals any other human activity or pursuit in terms of sheer intensity and emotion. Yet mountains are about so much more than just reaching the summit. The route to and from the apex of these wilderness temples is filled with challenges that crescendo with elevation gained, and beautiful nooks and crannies of the forest that the hurried hiker can easily blow right past. I was reminded of all of this on a winter trek into the High Peaks, when I took a break while clambering along Phelps Brook. I had been in a hurry to put in miles up to this point, but as I took a breather I discovered that in my haste to reach loftier destinations, I had nearly blown right by what would end up being the most beautiful thing I saw all day. Fresh snow and ice ringed the cascading brook that I had been absentmindedly hiking next to, and a stillness that can only be found in the winter forest permeated the air. I sat and watched and listened to the water flow and the ice crack for a long while, until the chill and mist rising from the brook made me get moving again. I hiked the rest of the day with new eyes and a new mindset, and reveled in each step of the journey. Adirondack High Peaks, New York
    The Journey
  • After three days of backpacking through the Maine wilderness, climbing over rocky passes and scrambling down precipitous mountain ledges, I was mentally and physically drained as I shuffled the final miles to my last campsite of the trip at Chimney Pond. As I stopped to finish off the last of my water, I turned around to see the evening sun bursting through the beautiful hardwood forest, and thankfully had enough energy even in my dazed state to set up my camera and capture this photo. Baxter State Park, Maine.
    Dazed & Confused
  • On our final day of a backpacking trip along the wilderness coast of Washington’s Olympic National Park, my friends and I ventured south from our camp at Point of the Arches. After climbing over rocky headlands and through pristine temperate rainforest high above the sea, we arrived at a deserted little cove between the headlands. At first this beach seemed just like all the others we had passed by, but upon closer inspection we discovered that the beach consisted of a seemingly infinite assortment of small, smooth pebbles of all different colors. We spent the afternoon lounging in the sunbaked pebbles, and exploring the intricacies of a world that often goes undetected. I used a shallow depth of field here to create an abstract expression of the pebbles, with only a slice being in focus and the rest fading into featureless colors and patterns.
    Pebble Feel
  • There are moments in life when time seems to stand still. When all the outside noise slips away and the mind, body, and spirit are focused entirely on the moment at hand. For me, the wilderness is where I go to seek these moments. Whether it's been a stunning sunset along the ocean, a rewarding winter view after a punishing climb, or hearing the haunting call of a loon echo across a foggy lake, I've been fortunate to experience countless moments where nature has taken my breath away and made time stand still. Out of all these moments, there's one that stands out from the rest. On a trip to Great Smoky Mountains National Park, we were dying to see black bears in the wild. After a couple days of exploration with no sightings, we were rewarded with what likely was the greatest experience we've ever had in the wilds. A mama bear and her three cubs were hanging out at the base of a walnut tree, which itself was exhilarating to see. But then the cubs got restless, and began to climb the walnut tree. We stood awestruck as they deftly scaled the thin branches that swayed in the evening breeze, and I could feel my heart pounding so much with excitement that it felt like it would burst. This was one of those rare moments that cause you to ask aloud "is this real?" because it's unlike anything that your eyes have seen before. This was indeed real, and was a moment we'll never forget.
    Time Stood Still
  • The most important lesson I learned while in San Francisco for a work conference was that when the rental car salesman offers to upgrade you from the cheap compact car that you had pre-booked to a Mustang convertible for just 60 bucks, you say yes. While my pre-conference backpacking trip along the wild and crystalline waters of the Tuolumne River in Yosemite National Park was surely a highlight of my trip to California, it was the journey to and from the trailhead in my trusty ‘Stang that is most etched in my memory. Ever since I had my first car, a piece of shit Saturn station wagon that crapped out after only 40,000 miles, I’ve been obsessed with the intoxicating feeling of absolute freedom and adventure that a full tank of gas and an open mind can provide. After finishing grad school and taking a year off to road trip throughout the American West and British Columbia, I thought that I had experienced pretty much everything that the open road had to offer. But as I bombed down 395 with the evening sun glistening off Mono Lake and the sweet smell of sage washing over me, topping 100 with the first 55 seconds of Van Halen’s “Hot for Teacher” blasting on loop and flipping the bird to every “speed monitored by aircraft” sign that I blew by, I realized that even after all the past trips and miles, the road still had undiscovered secrets to offer. That no matter how many places you’ve been and blank spaces on the map you’ve explored, the open road will always lead you to exactly where you need to be. As I approached my campsite for the night and the sky began to fade from blue to orange to purple, I chuckled as I thought to myself about how the idiom “my way or the highway” is all wrong. There is no choice to be made, after all, because as long as I’m able to climb into a car and press my forefoot on the accelerator, my way IS the highway.
    My Way is the Highway