In the spring of 2023, I had a plan for this picture – a drone photo of an amazing place called Box Canyon in southern Idaho, near the geological wonders of Malad Gorge and Thousand Springs. My idea was to post the picture on social media and challenge people to identify the location (or object) depicted in the photo. Because it was shot from the air, with shadows giving it a 3D look and striking colors, I was curious to see how many people could correctly identify it.
I intended to reveal the location after a few days and revisit the canyon the following week to take additional pictures, but I couldn’t have predicted the series of events that occurred next.
The original photo was taken four years earlier on a beautiful blue-sky day in May 2019. Despite taking numerous pictures of the canyon, none seemed to capture its full depth and beauty, so I decided to look at it from the sky. Standing at the cliff's edge, I centered my drone over the precipice and snapped a few shots before bugs buzzing around my head caused me to move further down the canyon.
In the days following my posting of this image in the spring of 2023, only a few people recognized it as Box Canyon. The rest provided hilarious guesses which included fish and other aquatic creatures such as salmon, rainbow trout, rock fish, frog, tadpole, and even “a green goldfish – the ones with the floppy tail.”
Other wild guesses included fossil, lizard, horse’s head, snake, plateau in Arizona, “no idea but I like it,” “a few holes I have played in golf,” and the most bewildering one -- a finger.
I love Box Canyon. Like many of nature’s wonders, my first visit years ago left me with a sense of awe and reverence for creation. Box Canyon is surrounded by pure, unadulterated desert landscape, and until you arrive at the edge, it is hard to imagine how an underground river flowing at 180,000 gallons per minute carved a massive canyon out of basalt rock. It is the 11th largest spring in the United States and its crystal-clear green-blue water is stunning, especially under blue skies.
But when I revisited the canyon on April 3, 2023, the weather was terrible. When I arrived at the trailhead, the temperature was chilling with a howling wind and I could barely open the car door. After layering up for the cold, my first thought was to document the scene with my trusty iPhone 14 Pro Max that I purchased just before going to Alaska the previous September to shoot pictures of grizzlies (or brown bear as they call them there).
Hiking along the rim, I eventually reached a narrow, steep trail that led to the canyon floor. Within 15 minutes, I was at the end of the marked trail and standing next to a cascading 20-foot waterfall. Because of poor light and mist falling on my head from the roaring falls, I decided to put my other camera gear away and shoot pictures only with the iPhone. (I later put up the drone to capture the entire falls).
As I was lying on my stomach on a large rock next to the falls, I was shocked to hear voices approaching. I thought, “Why would any sane person be visiting the canyon today?” and “Why would I be here if I were sane?”
When two people reached the waterfall, I nodded my head in their general direction and continued to take pictures before standing up and greeting them. Surprisingly, I discovered that it was Lee, a fellow nature enthusiast from Boise, and her husband Charlie. After laughing about the odds of being in the same location, we talked about how beautiful it was even under extreme conditions and I offered to take a picture of them in front of the falls. As I scrambled over large rocks to look for the perfect spot, Charlie suggested that I use his cell phone which seemed like a great idea, but as I reached for his phone and turned around, the hand holding my phone bumped my leg causing the phone to tumble end over end into the river and disappear.
I’m not sure why, but I decided to take their picture before determining the fate of my phone. I think I was hoping that neither Lee nor Charlie noticed this obvious breach of camera safety, but when both gasped and started pointing, I realized that I could not “act casual” as if nothing had happened. Stretching out on the granite slab, I peered over the edge to see my phone far below in the icy yet crystal-clear water. Beside it was two beer bottles and a pair of sunglasses swirling around in the vortex.
At first, I optimistically thought I could scoop it out of the river, but the water was far too deep for my arm. Undeterred, and desperate to regain some semblance of dignity in the eyes of my horrified companions, I enlisted the aid of a very long branch, but this was also far too short to reach the phone. Although I seriously considered going for a dip, my friends strenuously argued against this, and I even I realized it was a dumb idea given the cold, swift current beneath the falls.
At this point, the whole situation seemed hopeless. My prized phone, as well as all of the photos and videos shot that day, lay at the bottom of the river, and the fact that I could still see the phone made it worse. As I paced back and forth, it was clear that Charlie and Lee were not going to leave me unsupervised, so even though I was already concocting a plan to return, I followed them up the long trail to the parking lot.
Upon reaching my car, when I suddenly realized that I no way of reaching Sandi to explain my whereabouts, Charlie kindly offered his phone to text her. Although my text mentioned something about my phone being “lost,” I did not disclose that it was sleeping with the fishes at the bottom of Box Canyon because I didn’t have the energy to respond to extensive cross examination using my thumbs. A detailed explanation would have to wait.
Even in the relative safety of the parking lot, Charlie and Lee seemed uncertain about leaving without me. I suspect that there were nervous glances in the rearview mirror as they slowly drove away - at least until my car returned to the highway. But once they were out of sight, I was determined to find the nearest town with a hardware store – because I had a new plan.
Finding a town without the aid of GPS proved to be a daunting task. Guided solely by the location of the sun, it seemed miraculous to stumble upon Wendell Idaho after 30 minutes. It was there that I located the possible solution to my problem - Hub City Building and Supply.
The gentleman inside Hub City listened nervously to my plan to retrieve a cell phone out of a surging river as long as I could acquire a15-foot device capable doing so. Unfortunately for me, the apparatus I described to him was conveniently “out of stock”, but he quickly referred me to the Family Dollar store situated near the freeway. Thinking back, I’m quite certain that he knew that Family Dollar was also “out of stock” for this item, but at least I wouldn’t be HIS problem.
Three blocks away, I was greeted warmly as I entered Wendell’s hub of bargain delights. I was relieved that there was only one other customer at the time – a person who seemed intent on picking the right candlestick holder from the shelf marked boldly as Christmas clearance. After wandering up and down every aisle in search of a 15-foot iPhone grabbing device, I finally had to ask for help - something I was loathe to do for two reasons. 1) I hate asking for help, and 2) I hate asking for advice regarding 15-foot iPhone grabbing devices.
Even if the friendly Family Dollar store clerk considered my request to be odd, he quickly escorted me to the back of the store where offered his finest 5-foot plastic grabber – the kind that most people my age receive as birthday gifts. Because I knew that wouldn’t work, I declined his suggestion and began another lap around the store. After much searching, I discovered a broom with an attached dustpan that swiveled in a way that seemed perfect for retrieving an iPhone from a raging river. Although the broom wasn’t long enough to reach my phone, I remembered seeing an aluminum extension pole at Hub City, so I grabbed the broom, a large roll of duct tape, and headed for the checkout counter.
“Do you carry scuba masks in the store” I asked hopefully.
“Uh, what do you mean?” the clerk asked nervously.
“You know. A scuba mask. You put it on your face when you are underwater.”
The clerk replied apologetically, “Uh no. I think those are out of stock.”
With scuba masks being out of stock in Wendell, I began another frantic search of the store until I found a clear plastic bowl that seemed well suited for the task. Armed with my broom, duct tape, and my new scuba mask, I made my way back to Hub City where the clerk sold me a 15-foot aluminum pole with the same suspicion one would expect when purchasing a bazooka. With this arsenal of tools, I headed in the general direction of Box Canyon using the setting sun as my guide. Thirty minutes later, I was again at the canyon ready for my ascent.
An adequate explanation of the next two hours would add pages to an otherwise ridiculously long story. Suffice it to say that I successfully connected the extension pole to the broom/dustpan grabber using almost an entire roll of duct tape. The remainder was then used to secure the clear plastic bowl to my face. Thankfully, there were no witnesses at this stage of the expedition.
Lying face down on a large rock, my grabber contraption at first seemed perfect for the task, and with my scuba bowl in place, I could see everything clearly, including the occasional trout that swam by. But despite my best efforts, I could not get the dustpan/grabber under the phone. Every attempt of retrieval only edged it closer and closer to a deeper abyss until my dustpan/grabber suddenly released itself from the broom and was swiftly carried away by the current.
With the sun now below the horizon, and bereft of my only tool for retrieval, I trudged past the waterfall, up the steep trail to the rim, and entered my car with no idea of how I was going to find my way back to the freeway in the dark without GPS. And although I considered never returning home rather than explain my iPhone at the bottom of the river, I eventually made it back, beginning the rest of the story.
Stay tuned for A Series of Unfortunate Events – Part II.
GETTING THE SHOT
The original picture of Box Canyon can be found in the “What in the World” gallery on my website. It is filled with curious images you might enjoy. https://www.montestiles.com/What-Is-This
Box Canyon Springs Nature Preserve is part of the Thousand Springs State Park and is situated about 20 miles northwest of Twin Falls. Even with GPS guidance, the canyon is somewhat difficult to find in the endless crisscrossing of country roads, but the effort is worth it.
Surrounded by the high desert landscape of southern Idaho, the canyon is impossible to see until you are nearly on top of it, but once there, the overlook provides a breathtaking view into a 200-foot-deep canyon where crystal clear pools of green and blue remind me of the colors seen in Yellowstone’s Grand Prismatic.
From the overlook, a trail along the rim eventually leads you to a narrow steep trail onto the canyon floor where you will find a beautiful 20-foot waterfall along a pristine river. On a hot summer day, the aqua blue pools of the canyon bowl are great for swimming, kayaking, and paddle-boarding.
IMAGE INFORMATION
The first image was shot with a DJI Mavic 2 drone which has a 24 – 48 mm zoom lens. The exposure was 1/1600 second at ISO 100.
NOTE: I now use a DJI Mini 3 Pro drone which is a massive improvement from the one used on this occasion.
Although I like to think otherwise, keeping the drone in the air occupies most of my attention, so fine tuning shots for artistic purposes isn’t always a high priority. With all of my DJI drones, I have found the images to be difficult to edit in Photoshop, but this is also true with Apple ProRAW files. This has to do with proprietary settings regarding color depth, extended dynamic range, computational photography enhancements in the iPhone, and unique color profiles that are different than standard RAW files. I’m not sure whether this is because of Apple secrecy or Adobe not keeping up. Either way, it is annoying and time consuming. Because of these issues, I greatly prefer video images produced by DJI and Apple over still shots.
The unusual 3D look of photo at the top is largely due to lighting. Like most magical images, magical light is involved, so shooting in early morning or late afternoon light is always my preference.
May 2019. This shot is the river below the bowl from the canyon rim. Again, the water is crystal clear, but this is only obvious on a clear day. iPhone XS Max.
May 2019. This is the waterfall where I lost my phone in 2023. By that time, the observation deck was gone. Canon EOS 5D Mark IV. Canon EF 70-200 mm, f/2.8L, IS II.
The second picture above was shot in May 2019 with a Canon EOS 5D Mark IV and Canon EF 70-200 mm, f/2.8L, IS II.
The first waterfall picture above was shot in April 2023 with a DJI Air 2S. Because of weather conditions and efforts to control the drone, all camera settings were on auto with a shutter speed of 1/15 sec. Normally, I would only shoot video of a waterfall using a drone, but I was just trying to get a picture of the entire falls.