How To Photograph An Ice Cave

 
A stream from a nearby waterfall runs beneath the ice of Root Glacier, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park.

A stream from a nearby waterfall runs beneath the ice of Root Glacier, Wrangell-St. Elias National Park.

Google “Alaska ice caves” and you’ll see dozens of similar pictures of the stunning caves within Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau. These caves have gained significant fame due to the surreal images people have captured of them over the past several years. While the Mendenhall Glacier caves are very well known, ice caves form in most of the glaciers across Alaska, coming and going as water carves its way through the glacier ice. I’ve personally photographed dozens of caves across nine different glaciers, with each one offering unique opportunities for creative photography. If you’re hoping to photograph an ice cave, but aren’t sure what to expect, this overview will help you capture some winning shots.

Here’s a brief list of recommended equipment:

  • Camera with manual controls, preferably a DSLR or mirrorless camera with good high ISO performance

  • Tripod

  • At least one light source (flashlight, lantern, headlamp)

  • Warm, waterproof clothing and footwear

  • Helmet

  • Crampons or ice cleats

Some caves require crampons or ice tools to explore, but most caves I’ve entered have only required caution while walking (or sometimes crawling) inside. Still, it’s a good idea to use a pair of crampons or ice cleats to make walking less hazardous, especially if carrying expensive camera gear. If you are participating in a guided tour, any specialized gear will likely be provided, but ask in advance. In summer, the temperature is still near freezing inside an ice cave and water will be everywhere, so bring appropriate clothing and footwear. 

Safety
It is much more dangerous to explore an ice cave in the summer when the ice is actively melting. Rocks on the edge of a high slope above an ice cave entrance will continuously tumble down as the ice melts, making entering and exiting a cave treacherous; avoid passing directly beneath the fall line as you quickly enter/exit the cave, covering your head if not wearing a helmet. Glacier ice contains rocks and other debris that fall out of the walls and ceiling of a cave as the interior melts, so be wary of a high ceiling and make certain to look up. The freezing glacial streams that run through most caves in the summer can also be hazardous if the flow is great. Even in winter, large pieces of ice that are visibly cracking away from the interior or exterior of a cave can be dangerous. Use common sense: if you see significant crumbling or collapsed ice around the entrance or inside, the cave is probably dangerous, and if you see overhanging ice that looks thin, poorly supported, or significantly cracked, don’t stand underneath. The ice cave entrance often features the thinnest, weakest ice. Heed any warnings from guides, rangers, or others about current ice instability. Last, but not least, most ice caves lie in difficult-to-reach areas of the backcountry, so you should be thoroughly prepared for traveling over rough terrain on unmarked trails, far from rescue personnel and safety.         

This ice arch unsurprisingly collapsed the same summer this photograph was taken. Beware of poorly supported ice, cracking, signs of recent ice collapse, high ceilings, and rockfall when exploring ice caves and other formations on glaciers.

This ice arch unsurprisingly collapsed the same summer this photograph was taken. Beware of poorly supported ice, cracking, signs of recent ice collapse, high ceilings, and rockfall when exploring ice caves and other formations on glaciers.

Where To Go
Besides Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau, you can easily find guided tours of Alaska ice caves in the summer at Root Glacier near Kennecott, Matanuska Glacier along the Glenn Highway, Spencer Glacier near an Alaska Railroad stop, and Valdez Glacier in Valdez, with some outfits offering winter tours as well. (Update: There were no accessible ice caves at Mendenhall Glacier in summer 2018. Ice caves change quickly in the summer and can disappear altogether, so check conditions before your trip and consider a winter visit to avoid surprises.) I've also been impressed by photographs I've seen of Iceland ice caves. I often photograph ice caves at Castner Glacier, Canwell Glacier, and Black Rapids Glacier in the Alaska Range, which typically contain several caves each, and I offer tours of these glaciers in winter as well. Black Rapids Glacier is my personal favorite, but that glacier requires considerable physical effort to access. 

Camera & Tripod
Because you will be shooting in low light, a tripod and a camera with good high ISO performance are recommended to achieve the sharpest, highest quality photos. Don't expect to take any great shots with a cell phone or a basic point-and-shoot camera, except possibly near the entrance where there is ample light. A higher-end point-and-shoot camera that you can manually control should take some decent shots, but a DSLR or mirrorless camera is highly recommended, and a full-frame DSLR or mirrorless camera will provide the best image quality while also providing a wider field-of-view than a crop sensor camera, which is crucial when trying to cram more ice into the frame. A tripod is absolutely necessary for exposing details in the shadowy areas of an ice cave, where multi-second exposures may be required even at high ISOs, but a tripod will also allow you to shoot at lower ISOs and narrower apertures in lighter areas of a cave, reducing noise, improving sharpness, and providing a greater depth-of-field in your images. I used the Canon 6D to shoot ice caves for several years, recently upgrading to the Canon 5D Mark IV, and I've been completely satisfied with the performance of both, though any newer DSLR (less than 5-10 years old) should perform well.

Shooting in total darkness beneath Canwell Glacier. I manually focused on my lantern, then used a wireless shutter release to take a picture while standing as still as possible. Canon 6D, Canon 24-105mm f/4L @24mm, f/4, ISO 3200, 4 sec, tripod.

Shooting in total darkness beneath Canwell Glacier. I manually focused on my lantern, then used a wireless shutter release to take a picture while standing as still as possible. Canon 6D, Canon 24-105mm f/4L @24mm, f/4, ISO 3200, 4 sec, tripod.

Lenses
Ultra-wide angle zoom lenses excel at fitting all the interesting details on the ceiling, walls, and floor of an ice cave into the frame, while providing the flexibility to zoom in for tighter shots without having to change lenses in a harsh environment. I use the Canon EF 11-24mm f/4L and the Canon 16-35mm EF f/2.8L III on a full-frame camera, which both deliver excellent image quality and very wide angles-of-view. The NIKKOR 14-24mm f/2.8G ED lens would be a great option for Nikon users. Lenses like these are very expensive, but they can be rented from local camera shops or online vendors such as LensRentals.com. Several quality third-party ultra-wide zoom lenses are available for crop-sensor DSLRs, such as the Tokina 11-16mm f/2.8, though there aren't as many for full-frame DSLRs.  

That being said, it’s still easy to find creative uses for most lenses. A longer focal length may work better for portraits of people in the cave, or getting close-up shots of details in the ice. I frequently carry only a 35mm prime lens when shooting customer portraits on ice cave tours. In one lengthy tunnel, I even utilized my 300mm prime lens to snap a photo of my companions at the opposite end. "Fast" lenses with maximum apertures of f/2.8 and wider are not replacements for a tripod, but they will allow you to shoot in dimmer areas of the cave handheld (while sacrificing depth-of-field), and you can certainly get creative with blurred backgrounds of blue ice. 

Details in the ice of a cave within Canwell Glacier. A longer focal length or a macro lens could be used to zoom in on rocks, bubbles, or cracks in the ice. Canon 5D Mark IV, Canon 11-24mm f/4L @24mm, f/8, ISO 100, 2.5 sec, tripod.

Details in the ice of a cave within Canwell Glacier. A longer focal length or a macro lens could be used to zoom in on rocks, bubbles, or cracks in the ice. Canon 5D Mark IV, Canon 11-24mm f/4L @24mm, f/8, ISO 100, 2.5 sec, tripod.

Photographing In Low Light
When you enter a cave, your eyes will take time to adjust to the dim lighting. Waiting for your eyes to adapt will make it easier to compose shots and focus. Remember to reduce the brightness of your camera’s LCD screen so your photos don’t look brighter than they actually are, possibly misleading you into underexposing your images. On my Canon 6D and 5D Mark IV, I’ve found using an LCD Brightness setting of “2” works best when working in very dim lighting or total darkness. Utilize the histogram display on your camera to ensure proper exposure, if available. Also, don’t forget a flashlight! Besides needing one to find your way around in a dark ice cave interior, a flashlight can be used to illuminate the part of the cave where you are trying to achieve focus. I generally bring both a headlamp and a small flashlight in case I lose one or the batteries die. Other light sources such as lanterns, flares, torches, etc., can add an interesting touch to a photo. Many camera/lens combinations will struggle to autofocus in dim lighting, and it can be close to impossible to manually focus while looking through the viewfinder; if your camera features a “Live View” function (i.e., the LCD display can be used to preview your exposure), you can use this mode to achieve pinpoint focus by zooming in on the LCD display, then manually focusing the lens. A circular polarizing filter could conceivably reduce reflections in the ice, but any filter will also reduce the amount of light hitting your camera's sensor, forcing even longer exposures, so I wouldn't utilize filters unless in a well-lit area of a cave. 

ISO, Aperture, Shutter Speed
In general, ISO should be set as low as possible. For tripod-mounted shots, this generally means using ISO 100, although you may need to increase it to minimize subject blur if you are including a person in the frame. If you’re not using a tripod, you may still be able to take sharp photos handheld near the entrance where there is plenty of ambient light, but you will be forced to shoot at a high ISO and/or wider aperture in dimmer lighting. Brace yourself against the wall of the cave or find a rock or ledge where you can rest the camera to keep it steady. A flash can help, especially for portraits, but beware of the flash reflecting off the ice surface. Remember the reciprocal rule, which says the reciprocal of your shutter speed should be at least as large as your focal length in millimeters to take a sharp handheld photo. (Example: shutter speed should be faster than 1/20 sec if shooting at 20 mm.) I try to avoid shooting above ISO 800 if possible, but virtually never shoot above ISO 3200. You may find your camera stops providing acceptable image quality at a lower or higher ISO, depending on its capability and your personal preference.

I used a 10-sec time delay to get in place and bumped the ISO to 800 so I only had to stand still for about a second. The more blue ice in the frame, the better. Canon 6D, Canon 11-24mm f/4L @11mm, f/8, ISO 800, 0.8 sec, tripod.

I used a 10-sec time delay to get in place and bumped the ISO to 800 so I only had to stand still for about a second. The more blue ice in the frame, the better. Canon 6D, Canon 11-24mm f/4L @11mm, f/8, ISO 800, 0.8 sec, tripod.

I prefer shooting in “aperture priority” mode and adjusting the exposure compensation up and down as needed to control highlights or brighten shadows. Generally, I shoot in the f/8 to f/11 range on a full-frame camera to maximize depth-of-field and optimize image sharpness, but I may open the aperture wider when handholding the camera for candid shots of people or to focus on interesting objects (rocks, odd ice formations, etc.) inside the cave. Many times, the same composition can work at different exposures—especially if facing the cave entrance where you can expose for the scene outside or go for a “light at the end of the tunnel” effect. Experiment by increasing and decreasing your exposure by one or two stops—you can figure out which one works best later. HDR is a useful digital technique for capturing the shadowy details in a cave while also preventing any highlights from being blown out.  

Handheld shot near the entrance of a Canwell Glacier cave. I shot at a wide aperture and high ISO to minimize blur from the movement of my subjects and from camera shake. Canon 5D Mark IV, Canon 11-24mm f/4L @24mm, f/4, ISO 800, 1/60 sec.

Handheld shot near the entrance of a Canwell Glacier cave. I shot at a wide aperture and high ISO to minimize blur from the movement of my subjects and from camera shake. Canon 5D Mark IV, Canon 11-24mm f/4L @24mm, f/4, ISO 800, 1/60 sec.

Reducing Vibration
Even on a tripod, a camera is still subject to small movements that can produce slightly soft images if proper care is not taken. Using a remote shutter release (preferably wireless) or else enabling a 2-second time delay on your camera will reduce vibration during the exposure caused by pressing the shutter release button. Some SLR cameras feature a “mirror lockup” setting, which should be enabled to reduce any vibrations caused by the mirror inside the camera swinging up prior to the shutter opening. Remove the neck strap from your camera or ensure it is not dangling back and forth. Turn off any image stabilization/vibration reduction feature on your lens because it may actually cause vibration if your camera is completely stationary. Be careful not to touch the camera or tripod during an exposure.

I used a wide angle and some distance between the camera and subject to exaggerate the size of this Augustana Glacier cave, though it was still really big! Canon 5D Mark IV, Canon 24-105mm f/4L @24mm, f/9, ISO 400, 1.3 sec, tripod.

I used a wide angle and some distance between the camera and subject to exaggerate the size of this Augustana Glacier cave, though it was still really big! Canon 5D Mark IV, Canon 24-105mm f/4L @24mm, f/9, ISO 400, 1.3 sec, tripod.

Finding Interesting Compositions
Translucent blue ice can be mesmerizing, and it's tempting to simply point the camera at it and shoot, but if you want to create images that capture the viewer's eye or tell a story, you'll need to put a little thought into your compositions. Including a person in the frame can provide an important sense of scale and help orient viewers as they try to imagine themselves in the cave, but pay attention to the person's placement and pose. In particular, avoid having your subject blend in with a shadowy background. "Smile for the camera" shots are nice to put in a frame at home, but they're not going to win any photo contests, so try to capture your subject interacting with their surroundings in such a way that the viewer can sense the subject's emotions, or follow their path or gaze through the cave. Silhouettes work well against a cave entrance or potentially against brighter sections of translucent ice. Try to find the most interesting curves in the ice and let them wind around in the frame. Put interesting details in the foreground, like water cascading over rocks on the floor of a cave, or a piece of hoarfrost hanging from the ceiling. The colorful glacier ice is the star of the show, so don't be afraid to include plenty of it in the frame. 

Get creative! You don't have to bring a dinosaur costume with you, but try to find a unique perspective or a novel idea for a shot that others haven't exhausted already.

Get creative! You don't have to bring a dinosaur costume with you, but try to find a unique perspective or a novel idea for a shot that others haven't exhausted already.

Protecting Your Gear
In summer, the interior of an ice cave melts, and the water that continuously drips from the ceiling contains very fine glacial silt, which poses a threat to your camera gear. Glacial silt sticks to everything, and it will try to find its way into the zoom and focus rings on your lens, like sand at the beach. Accessories meant for protecting camera gear from rain can help keep your gear dry, but it's best to keep it stowed if not actively using it. Be prepared to wipe water off the front of your lens with a soft cloth that won’t scratch the glass. In winter, there's no water dripping, but it's still easy to kick up the dry silt on the floor of a cave, not unlike emptying the dust collector of a vacuum cleaner, so you should change your lens outside the cave if possible to prevent contamination of your camera sensor. I try to wipe my camera and lens down before changing lenses to remove any silt that inevitably collects on my gear. 

Processing Your Photos
Digital cameras tend to get confused by the unusual lighting in ice caves when determining the proper white balance (resulting in undesirable color casts in your image), and they cannot handle the extreme contrasts found in ice caves as well as the human eye. If you're reading this article, odds are you're fairly serious about photography, and if you're not already processing your images, you should start! Digitally processing an image can bring it closer to how you actually perceived the scene or the artistic vision you had when you photographed it. In addition, you can fix lens imperfections like vignetting, distortion, and chromatic aberration if you are really in pursuit of perfection. I'll direct you to Google to learn more... 

Conclusion
If photography is your hobby or profession and you're making a once-in-a-lifetime trip to see an ice cave, make sure you bring the right gear, and make sure you will have all the time you need to photograph. Prepare yourself for shooting in low light by practicing at night. (Aurora photographers will have a head start!) Don't forget to take care of your gear as well as your own safety.

Leave a comment or shoot me an email if you have questions. Thanks for reading and good luck!

Want to photograph an ice cave in Alaska? Check out my Black Rapids Tours winter offerings.

 

Denali National Park March 2017

 
Denali at sunrise with me in the foreground.

Denali at sunrise with me in the foreground.

When I heard the road in Denali National Park was plowed to Mile 12.5, I had an idea for a shot of me standing on a ridge with Denali dominating the background at sunrise. Because Denali is about 70 miles away from this area of the park, I’d need my 300mm lens to zoom in on the mountain, but that also meant the camera would need to be at least a couple thousand feet away from the ridge in the direction opposite from Denali to make the perspective work out. I started scanning the ridges along the north side of the park road in Google Earth looking for possibilities, and there was only one within easy reach that looked promising: a false summit on a ridge pointing toward Denali connected to a not-to-steep slope about a half-mile away where I could easily find the perfect spot for my camera.

With a forecast of clear skies and good aurora, I drove to the park on a Tuesday during this unusually cold March, arriving just before sunset at the Mountain Vista Trailhead at Mile 12, which was completely empty. Snow covered the restrooms and picnic tables, and a couple dog sled trails led off through the spruce trees. Technically, you’re supposed to have a backcountry permit to camp overnight in the park, but the permitting office had closed hours earlier and I had a strong suspicion the backcountry unit I’d be camping in wouldn’t be meeting the maximum quota of people allowed that night. I changed into my cold weather gear, crossed over the park road, then set out for my climb, skinning on my splitboard up a thoroughly packed snowshoe trail leading roughly toward the false summit east of the Savage Alpine Trail. The snow beside the trail was deep and unconsolidated, so I was thankful I didn’t have to break trail through it. When I emerged above tree line, the aurora was already dancing to the east, though there was still a fair amount of twilight to the west over Denali.

The snowshoe trail I followed under twilight.  The trail is pointing toward Denali.

The snowshoe trail I followed under twilight.  The trail is pointing toward Denali.

When the slope steepened, the snowshoe tracks stopped, and I started breaking trail through thin snow cover, avoiding open sections of tundra and rocks. The snow eventually became too spotty to continue skiing, so I stashed my splitboard and started hiking up the mountain. The slope became much steeper, but the frozen alpine tundra provided good footing. I stopped to pull out my headlamp as twilight faded, noticing that the aurora had vanished. The final stretch to the false summit was rather narrow and I trod carefully to avoid a nasty tumble down either side. Once on top, I realized it would be a perfect shooting location for the aurora and there was just enough room to set up my tent. Feeling completely warm from climbing, I started unpacking my gear, but by the time I finished putting the tent together my fingers were numb and my body felt cold, which I knew from experience meant the air temperature was below zero Fahrenheit. I donned my parka and slipped into my sleeping bag to warm back up, waiting for the aurora to reemerge.

Wrapped in my sleeping bag late at night after a tiring drive and climb, I found it difficult to open my eyes to check on the aurora, but as soon as I saw green lights dancing across the sky, I was suddenly wide awake and operating my camera before I even realized I was outside the tent. Though the moon wasn’t out, the aurora cast enough of a glow on the landscape that I could clearly see the route I’d be taking in the morning to capture my sunrise shot. The ridge looked a little sketchy below where I was camped, but I would worry about that in the morning. Meanwhile, I battled the cold to snap photos of the aurora dancing over the mountains surrounding me. It had to be near 20 below, and my tent, backpack, and camera gear (minus the front of the lens) were covered in frost. A mild but bitingly cold breeze would pick up occasionally, but luckily it never developed into a steady wind. Every 15 minutes or so I’d do a set of 20 pushups to warm up, and when the aurora died down around 3:30 a.m., I was thrilled to finally crawl back in my sleeping bag. I felt warm as long as I didn’t move and kept the bag pulled over my head, though I had to turn over occasionally because the ground was so cold. I glanced out the tent a couple of times, but the aurora remained just barely perceptible.

The aurora looking east toward the entrance of Denali National Park.

The aurora looking east toward the entrance of Denali National Park.

I’m not sure if I ever fell asleep, but it didn’t seem like much time had passed when my phone alarm went off at 6 a.m. I glanced outside the tent and saw it was still dark, so I hit ‘snooze’ a few times. Around 6:45 a.m. it was light enough outside for me to start hiking. Descending the ridge didn’t look as sketchy as it did in the dark, but there was a short crux right beneath the false summit where I had to scramble carefully. I continued along the ridge easily from there, spotting some shadowy sheep scattering out of view above me. I found the right spot to set my tripod, then set my camera’s built-in timer to take a series of shots over the next 45 minutes and began hiking back to my campsite. When I made it there about ten minutes later, the north and south peaks of Denali were just starting to turn pink. I pushed my tent out of view and posed on top of the highest rock for several minutes to be sure the camera captured me. I sat down to eat a Snickers for breakfast and was happy to find the water bottles I kept in my outer pockets overnight still unfrozen. The waning crescent moon hung over the mountains to the southwest, and an eerie fog covered the valley near the front of the park. I looked down on the open tundra below and felt like I had the entire park to myself, a sharp contrast from summer when the park feels like it’s flooded with tourists. As the sun began to illuminate the ridge, I packed up the tent, then posed for another shot, not sure if the camera was still capturing any images.

The ridgeline I hiked back and forth on twice for my shot of Denali.

The ridgeline I hiked back and forth on twice for my shot of Denali.

On the hike to retrieve my camera, I spotted the sheep I had seen earlier sitting on top of a hill maybe 100 vertical feet above where my camera was placed. After picking up my gear, I hiked up the hill, slowing down as the sheep came into view above me. It was a ewe with two lambs, and they didn't seem to mind my presence as long as I stayed about 20 feet away. I photographed them as they grazed and expertly traversed the steep rock. Gusts of wind blew snow around the hilltop and whipped the fur of the sheep, and I admired how these animals could tolerate such a harsh climate.

A Dall sheep lamb resting on a hilltop in the morning sun.

A Dall sheep lamb resting on a hilltop in the morning sun.

With the sun finally starting to warm things up, I hiked back to the false summit and grabbed my camping gear, then began descending the rocky slope to my splitboard. I clipped the board together and was just about to start snowboarding down when I saw a group of Dall sheep rams feeding near some bushes a short distance away.  There were six rams total, and three or four had full-curl horns. I made a half-hearted attempt to get a shot of the sheep with Denali in the background but couldn't quite get the composition I was looking for, and was too tired to try harder. 

Dall sheep rams with Denali in the background. The Savage Alpine Trail is visible on the hillside just above the sheep.

Dall sheep rams with Denali in the background. The Savage Alpine Trail is visible on the hillside just above the sheep.

Snowboarding down the hillside was less fun than I had hoped due to the abundant brush and bumpy terrain, but I still found a few seconds' worth of open powder that made it worthwhile. Once the slope flattened out, I skied the rest of the way to the park road, passing a moose camouflaged in the brush and a pair of tourists snowshoeing through the trees near the trailhead. I reached my car just as a bus load of Japanese tourists arrived in the parking lot, watching as they excitedly paraded by in their puffy coats down one of the dog sled trails. When I started my car, the engine sputtered for 10 seconds, then promptly shut down, which tends to happen when the viscosity of the oil increases drastically after cold-soaking at temperatures below about -10 F. The air temperature had warmed to above +10 F and the afternoon sun was shining intensely on my vehicle, so it must have been pretty cold overnight for my car to still have trouble starting. (At nearby Healy, the temperature dropped to -23 F.) I tried starting it again and this time the engine stayed running. While the car warmed up, I reluctantly changed in one of the freezing restrooms, feeling my toes go numb in the couple minutes it took to remove my boots and winter gear to put on dry clothes and tennis shoes.

My shot of Denali at sunrise turned out almost exactly as I planned. If the weather is favorable, I might attempt the same shot again in May but this time with the moon setting above the mountain. Later this summer, I plan to trek through the park to Peters Glacier less than 10 miles from the imposing north face of Denali, where I hope to take some unique shots of the mountain. For the amount Denali has been photographed, there are surprisingly few shots of the mountain taken at close range that weren't taken from the air or from mountaineers at high altitude on the mountain itself.