Dennis Turville
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You are browsing the archives of Dennis Turville.
For a photographer, the Grand Canyon is a 280-mile candy store. Great images hide on almost every bend, and despite frantic attempts at forcing the trip to be IN THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME, no plan ever works; no single trip has time to hike and photograph even half of the magic side […]
Mount Warren’s north face was as yet unclimbed, winter or summer. We needed an excuse for a nine-day ski tour into the northern Wind Rivers, and a first winter ascent would be a nice coup. On top of packs towering over our heads we added rock and ice gear, easily the heaviest load I have […]
For decades I’ve wanted to spend May in the desert. May is magic in the high desert, and all I wanted was just to leave town and follow my nose, travel from one place I hadn’t visited for decades to another, until I got tired of it, or it simply got too hot. William Least […]
I look up at this wall often, especially in winter. Even from I 15 you can see the cirque with your butt comfortably warm in your car. But I know only too well just how bloody alpine it is up there, despite being too close to a too-big city. When we climbed the Open […]
Once you spend enough time in the desert, weird stuff will happen. Nearly everyone has a life-changing desert story, but for me, strange is the new normal. So here are a couple of my favorites, and before you insist my imagination has clearly run amok, know every sentence in here is true, and that […]
Story and Photos by Dennis Turville Carmel Tunnel. While my younger brothers were feeding/harassing chipmunks, I was staring downslope, trying to see inside the darkened convolutions of Pine Creek, utterly fascinated. I knew, right then, I was going into Pine Creek sometime. Something very strange down there was calling my name. And […]
Yvon is eyeing a small serac at the snout of the Teton Glacier. He asks how we might attack it, and a student heavily armed with two very shiny ice tools and new rigid crampons begins a mad display of poor front pointing and flailing until he gets to the bulging top, where both […]