Today was principally a travel day as our group made its way back to Uyuni. We left at 5 AM so we could enjoy the morning light of sunrise and made several stops along the way.

The Uyuni Train Graveyard (Cementerio de Trenes), located 3km outside the city, is an open-air graveyard of rusting 19th-century steam locomotives and carriages. Once a thriving transit hub for exporting minerals to the Pacific, the trains were abandoned in the 1940s after the mining industry collapsed and regional expansion plans failed. 

Throughout our journey, I have made numerous photographs of my fellow participants, mostly candid. Below is a staged exception that I like in particular. It features Las Chicas, a group of women who shared one of the SUVs, three of which have traveled together in the past.

As the sun set on the salt flats, we celebrated our time together and enjoyed one last look into the infinite.

Sol de Mañana (Morning Sun) is a high-altitude (4,900m) geothermal field in southwest Bolivia, noted for intense volcanic activity, bubbling mud pools, and sulfurous fumaroles. Located near Laguna Colorada, it features intense steam geysers erupting up to 50m.

Laguna Verde is a stunning high-altitude salt lake set against the Licancabur volcano, is famed for its emerald-green color, caused by mineral sediments of arsenic, magnesium, and calcium.

To end the day, we returned to Laguna Colorado. The striking red color is primarily caused by a combination of high salinity, intense sunlight, and the presence of pigmented algae (mainly Dunaliella salina) that thrive in the mineral-rich waters. Shallow depths and red sediments, along with white borax islands, create a vibrant contrast.

Early this morning (1-3 AM), conditions were ideal for photographing the Milky Way, as was our location, which offered great foreground subjects. The abundance of foreground options allowed members of our group to spread out, allowing each of us to enjoy the experience in total darkness and total solitude. As much as I enjoyed the photography, I felt at one with the universe in these moments in a way I have never before. Both of these astrophotographs are composed of two rows of ten images that are “stitched” together with specialized software to create a wide-angle panorama. The image below is my favorite composition, but I have yet to coax out the colors of the gases, which was done in the image above.

The Altiplano (Spanish for “high plain”) or Andean Plateau, in west-central South America, is the most extensive high plateau on Earth outside Tibet. The plateau is located at the latitude of the widest part of the north–south-trending Andes. The bulk of the Altiplano lies in Bolivia, but its northern parts lie in Peru, its southwestern fringes lie in Chile, and it extends into Argentina. The average altitude is 12,300 feet, and the surface ranges from sand to exposed and/or strewn rock.

Our caravan includes four high-clearance, 4×4 SUVs. Each carries four five-gallon gas cans on the roof and, in our case, a 20-pound tank of propane. I shuddered to imagine what would happen if we were to flip over, something that often felt possible as we raced along the bumpy surface of the desert.

The Árbol de Piedra (“Stone Tree”) is a 5–7 meter tall volcanic rock formation in Bolivia’s Siloli Desert (Eduardo Avaroa National Park). Shaped like a tree with a thin stem, it is a natural monument sculpted over thousands of years by high-altitude winds carrying sand, creating a striking “mushroom” appearance. 

Laguna Colorado (the “Red Lagoon”) is a shallow, high-altitude salt lake famous for its striking blood-red waters and massive flocks of flamingos. Located within the Eduardo Avaroa Andean Fauna National Reserve near the Chilean border, it sits at an elevation of approximately 14,035 feet. I literally took hundreds of photos of the flamingos, but I will have to wait to sort out my favorites on my large-screen monitor. These will have to do for now.

While driving, we encountered a couple of ostriches running about. Later, one of our drivers discovered what I am guessing is a baby ostrich.

My day started at midnight when our group returned to the Uyuni salt flats for our first opportunity to photograph the Milky Way. Because I did not have the optimal tripod head for shooting a panorama of the sky, I opted to focus on making a single image and used myself as a foreground object, using my iPhone to illuminate my face. As a first attempt at astro photography, I am pleased with the outcome.

While driving to the Bosque de Piedras, we stopped at a small watering area where the local alpacas were gathered en masse. Parents are very attentive to their young, and I have too many family portraits to pick a favorite.

Bosque de Piedras (Stone Forest) generally refers to several unique geological areas characterized by massive, wind-sculpted rock formations. While “Bosque de Piedras” is a common term for such landscapes across the Andes, the most famous ones in Bolivia are located in the high-altitude Altiplano region.

The southern viscacha (Lagidium viscacia) is a rodent related to chinchillas that strongly resembles a rabbit with a long, bushy tail. While often called an Andean rabbit, it is not a true rabbit but a rock-dwelling mammal often seen sunbathing on rocky outcrops. They are gregarious (live in colonies), diurnal (often active during the day, especially sunbathing), and feed on grasses and lichens. The one pictured below appears to be napping, allowing me to approach fairly close.

Heavy rains last night covered most of the Uyuni basin with a few inches of water, creating the largest mirror on earth. These are exactly the conditions I hoped to find here, and I feel very lucky. I was happy to step in as the foreground object needed to establish a sense of scale and perspective. The video below gives a 360-degree birds-eye view of the basin.

The leader of our group, Jheison Huerta, a world-class photographer, took the photo below at my request. He clearly understood which was my better side.

For me, being in a place like this is a spiritual experience. I feel both insignificant and yet fully connected to the universe.

The Salar de Uyuni is the world’s largest salt flat, spanning over 10,500 square kilometers (4,000 square miles). Situated on the high-altitude Altiplano at approximately 3,656 meters (12,000 feet) above sea level, it is a surreal, blindingly white landscape formed by the evaporation of prehistoric lakes tens of thousands of years ago. 

From December to April, a thin layer of rainwater can accumulate on the surface, transforming the flat into a perfectly reflective mirror. This effect blurs the horizon, making it difficult to distinguish where the earth ends and the sky begins, a photograph I have yet to capture.

From May to November, the water evaporates, leaving behind a hard, cracked crust that forms distinctive hexagonal salt patterns across the vast expanse. I took the photo below from a moving vehicle, and the dark item is the side view mirror.

The Colchani Salt Mazes (locally known as Laberinto de Sal) are a series of immersive tourist attractions. These labyrinths are hand-crafted by local artisans to diversify the region’s tourism beyond traditional salt mining. The mazes are built entirely from compacted salt blocks carved directly from the salt flats. These blocks are stacked like bricks to form intricate, solid walls. I followed members of our group to reach the center of the maze, which was quite challenging. I used the “wall follower algorithm” to exit on my own. The wall follower algorithm (also known as the left-hand rule or right-hand rule) is a simple, memory-efficient method for solving a maze by consistently keeping one hand in contact with a single wall. This algorithm is guaranteed to find the exit if the maze is “simply connected,” meaning all its walls are connected to each other or the maze’s outer boundary, and there are no loops or detached sections (islands).

Our photography group is currently staying at the Cristal Samaña Salt Hotel, famous for being constructed almost entirely out of salt blocks, including its walls, floors, and furniture. The hotel’s design is inspired by the coca leaf, a sacred plant in Aymara culture, and is built according to Feng Shui principles to promote energy balance. Throughout the property, you can find intricate salt sculptures and carvings inspired by Aymara astrology as well as areas such as the one pictured below for mediation.

Thus far, cloud cover has prevented our group from experiencing the Milky Way at night, which we are all hoping for. There has been some talk of sacrificing a baby lama to the Gods for good weather. Conveniently, one can be found on the hotel grounds.

Our group spent much of the day on the slat flats photographing a local model wearing traditional clothing. I must have shot 100 variations of this image, but I will not pick a final favorite until I can view them on my large computer screen at home. Pictured in the distant background is the Tunupa Volcano.

Attempting to fly my drone in high winds yesterday almost resulted in a crash. Today, the winds were more moderate, and I was able to make several flights both for stills and videos, including the ones below.

When I checked in yesterday for my flight to Uyuni, I discovered that I had been rebooked on an earlier flight leaving at 6:15 am, requiring that I leave my lodging at 4 am. Not happy! When I joined up with my photography tour group in Uyuni, most of whom were on my original flight, I learned that their entire flight’s worth of luggage had been lost. No longer so unhappy!

When I decided to travel to the Salar de Uyuni, Jeanine made it clear that she wanted me to do so with a group for my own safety. It is a vast salt flat, portions of which are covered by water, and not a place where you want to strike out on your own.

I joined a small photography-focused tour group. We are twelve in total, with 2 from the US, 2 from the UK, 1 from Germany, 3 from Mexico, 1 from Panama (my roommate), 1 from Spain, and 2 from Colombia. After introductions, we set out for our first visit to the salt flats. Unfortunately, weather conditions were not in our favor. High winds and scattered thunder showers reduced our options, but this is a place of immense beauty on any day. We enjoyed a delicious lunch prepared by the tour company staff.

Plans for a return to the salt flats for astrophotography had to be cancelled due to the storms and cloud cover. Fortunately, we managed to evade the rain and had an opportunity to photograph a flock of flamingos and the sunset.

Laguna Charquini (also known as Laguna Esmeralda) is a small high‑altitude glacial lake located in the Cordillera Real of the Andes, near the town of Milluni in the La Paz Department of Bolivia.

The lagoon sits at just over 5,000 meters (16,500 feet) above sea level, nestled at the foot of Nevado Charquini (about 5,390 m) and close to the peaks Huayna Potosí and Chacaltaya, giving it a dramatic mountain backdrop.

After a bit of research last night, I decided that hiking to this lagoon would be a great way to spend my last day in the La Paz area. I joined a small tour group that provided transportation to the trailhead about 900 feet below the lagoon. Trust me when I say, this was a difficult hike given the altitude and my lack of acclimatization. Before starting the trail, I took a full panoramic of the range (click on the photo above and see if you can spot the lake) and progressively closer shots of the lake. This put me thirty minutes behind my group, but allowed me to get these photos before the clouds started to obscure the peaks.

It has been a while since I hiked at high altitude, and I was grateful that my body held up. I made the entire ascent in one continuous effort with no stops. I breathed only through my nose and adjusted my stride to keep my heart rate constant. At some points, I was advancing one foot only 6 inches in front of the other. While hiking, virtually everyone else passed me, but when they stopped to rest, I just trudged on by. This approach to high altitude climbing has served me well. When I got to the top, I hydrated and got a few selfies before turning right around to find thicker air.

Our driver was very skilled and inspired confidence as we traversed small streams that were often one with the road and passed trucks with a sheer drop off on our side. We made a couple of stops, including a reservoir and an ancient cemetery that were just as lovely as the lagoon.

Tomorrow I depart for Uyuni, and I do not know if I will have access to the internet. If not, it may be a week or so before I can post again.

The Witches’ Market of La Paz has become quite a tourist attraction in recent years. Among the many items sold at the market are dried llama fetuses that are said to bring both prosperity and good luck, dried frogs used for Aymara rituals, soapstone figurines, aphrodisiac formulas, owl feathers, dried turtles and snakes, herbs, and folk remedies. Witch doctors in dark hats and dresses wander through the market offering fortune-telling services.

I got a late start this morning to avoid last night’s lingering rain. Even so, when I arrived at the market, I found it almost empty. This allowed me to get some clean shots of the decorations that adorn the streets, but they do not convey the hustle and bustle that is the normal state of affairs here.

Rather than wait for the market to fully open, I decided to make the arduous hike to the main cemetery of La Paz, which is said to be lovely. Along the way, I encountered several more traditional markets and paused to enjoy some street food. When I arrived at the cemetery, I found it closed for the day despite signs on the main gate indicating it should be open.

UPDATE: I just learned that today is an election day, and this was the reason the cemetery and markets were closed.

Named by Neil Armstrong for its lunar-like appearance, the Valley of the Moon (Valle de la Luna) is located about a 30-minute drive from the center of La Paz. I used Yango, a popular ride-sharing app here, to get there since my Spanish isn’t good enough to navigate public transportation. It is a surreal desert landscape of clay spires and canyons formed by severe erosion. I opted to let my drone explore rather than doing so on foot, as I am still getting very lightheaded whenever I exert myself here. During a 1969 visit to Bolivia shortly after his lunar mission, Neil Armstrong reportedly visited the site while playing golf and noted its striking resembled the surface of the moon.

Later in the day, I visited the Basilica of Saint Francisco, the most famous church in La Paz. It is renowned for its 16th-century history, stunning Mestizo Baroque architecture, and as a major cultural landmark where local Aymara traditions mix with Catholic history.

On the walk back to my lodging, I found a great place to launch my drone for panoramic views of the city.

What does it say when you choose to spend Saturday night in a vibrant new city, at your computer, trying to figure out how tomorrow’s sightseeing can be optimized for downhill walking?

At 3 AM this morning, I began 24 hours of continuous travel, arriving in La Paz, Bolivia, at 3 AM. I think I only spent a third of the time flying, the rest just waiting around. At Boston Logan, it took 45 minutes to get through security due to the TSA work slowdown. When I boarded my connecting flight in Atlanta, we sat at the gate or on the runway for 90 minutes due to the air traffic control slowdown. In Bogota, where I made my final connection, it was simply a matter of a very long scheduled layover where I indulged in a $39,500 Burger King Whopper Meal (see receipt above if you do not believe me).

Note to Jeanine (who will not be concerned about the exorbitant price of my cheeseburger meal, but rather, my choice of dining establishment): Dear Jeanine, it was not like they had any good restaurants in the airport, simply variations on the Burger King theme, but with menu items I could neither pronounce nor identify. I chose familiar.

The airport in La Paz is the highest international airport in the world at an altitude of 13,325 feet. When I stepped off the plane, my head started to spin, and I felt nauseous. I recently started taking a medication to help lower my blood pressure, and that only compounded the effects of the altitude. Fortunately, I was able to clear customs rather quickly due to my favorable seating assignment on the plane and the fact that I did not need to wait for checked baggage. Check-in at my lodging was mercifully short, and I was quick to fall asleep after choking down two Ibuprofen (drinking the tap water in Bolivia is not recommended, and I had failed to pick up bottled water at the airport in my disoriented mental state). In all, a rather inauspicious start to what I hope will be an otherwise great travel adventure.

My favorite luggage configuration for air travel includes a 46L duffel bag with stowable shoulder straps and a 30L backpack. The smaller pack contains my laptop, drone, camera, lenses, and travel essentials. The larger one is for clothing and meets the size constraints of an overhead bin. I prefer two backpacks to a roll-aboard and one backpack for several reasons. With dual backpacks, I can navigate over any terrain with ease (cobblestones, dirt, stairs, mud), all with both of my hands free and a near-perfect front-to-back weight balance. Furthermore, you can pack a lot more into a soft-sided pack than into one with a rigid shell, wheels, and a telescoping handle.

I leave early tomorrow morning for two weeks of travel in Bolivia and Colombia, and can be seen above testing the weight and balance of my fully loaded gear. I will post as regularly as internet access allows over the next two weeks.

Built in 1747, the Wright Tavern served as a vital meeting hub for patriots and hosted the Massachusetts Provincial Congress in the months leading up to the American Revolution. On April 19, 1775, it famously served as the headquarters for British officers during the Battle of Concord while Minutemen gathered nearby. After the war, the building continued to operate as a tavern and later a private residence before being gifted to the First Parish in Concord in the late 19th century. Today, it is a National Historic Landmark that has undergone extensive restoration to preserve its colonial architecture. It currently serves as an educational center and museum, offering tours and programs that highlight its role in the birth of American independence.

When Concord celebrated the 250th anniversary of the “Shot Heard Round the World,” I volunteered to build the stands for the photo boards in the image above. I was pleased, on a recent excursion downtown, to see that they are still in use.

Kyle has moved into a Seaport District apartment where he will spend the next 6 weeks cat-sitting and generally looking after the place. Meanwhile, he has rented out both floors of his house in Medford. That kid does not miss a trick.

I spent the day installing wood filler panels under all countertops throughout the house where a drawer is located directly underneath, twenty in total. Without these panels, it would be possible for an item in an overstuffed drawer to get caught on the front lip of the countertop, preventing the drawer from opening. In such an event, the only remedy would be to cut the bottom of the drawer out from below, allowing the jam to release. Admittedly, this is a low probability occurance but the consequence is dire enough to warrant the full day project and $200 materials cost.