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A Q&A with Colleen Miniuk

Gypsum Reefs by Colleen Miniuk

Where’s the first place you’re going to go when you get out of quarantine?
The Gypsum Reefs, near Bonelli Bay on Lake Mead.

Why is this place special to you?
After a failed attempt to cross Lake Powell in 2015 after a traumatic life event, I wanted to spend time with an old friend of mine, the Colorado River. I’d visited Lake Mead only once before, but in November 2018, I decided to ride a stand-up paddleboard 60-plus miles across the country’s largest reservoir, from the confluence with the Colorado River east of South Cove to Kingman Wash.

Do you remember experiencing it for the first time?
Yes. It was an experience I’ll never forget. (See below.)

As a photographer, what makes this place a great place to make a photograph?
Its uniqueness. There are few, if any, places in the Southwest where you can see water-carved gypsum in the shapes and formations you see at Lake Mead. Plus, it’s not an easy place to get to. It’s at least a 12-mile run by boat to the nearest marina. It’s even longer on foot: about 18 miles round-trip, requiring route-finding in a backcountry setting.

Tell us about the image you’re sharing with us.
For the first three days of my crossing, from South Cove to Temple Bar, my friend and I had ideal conditions for paddling: no wind. On the fourth day, which was also the first day on my own, things changed. Shortly after I left Temple Bar Marina, I battled a fierce headwind until reaching North Point. I turned south toward Bonelli Bay, in search of a protected beach to camp on overnight. After another 8 long and hard miles, I turned a corner at the head of a small bay and saw a fantastical landscape I’d never seen before. Brown and white jagged ledges, layers upon layers of sculpted gypsum sculpted into curves and arches — even dragons! I pulled up to the nearest stretch of sand to explore, even though I was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

A few minutes after the sun went down, the overcast sky unexpectedly exploded into fiery colors. I couldn’t contain my excitement. I grabbed my camera and bounded from ledge to ledge, making photographs. I thought, How delicious! How delicious this sunset. How delicious this chance to be in such a magnificent place in this exact moment. How delicious to feel so alive right now. And how delicious brownies would be right about now! This moment felt like the universe’s way of saying everything was going to be fine amid the uncertainty of my paddle, and in my life. Better than fine, in fact. Beautiful. Serendipitous. Breathtaking. For that reason, I can’t imagine a better spot to celebrate the end of quarantine, in a place that will reassure me that everything is going to be better than fine.


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