Tunk Creek flows north of Riverside, Washington, which is about eight miles north of Omak. I've photographed this unique area several times by permission near the Keystone Orchard. This was the second time I'd visited during the dead of winter.

    The first time I went was with James Goss. My film holders were carried in less-than-ideal circumstances in a nap bag, causing a lot of dirt to contaminate the film and final images.

    That first trip, we jumped 6 to 8 feet onto a narrow ledge. James, an extremely talented rock sculptor, used his agility to get to the creek's edge another several feet below the eight-inch ledge.

    I was not so fortunate. Though I'd handed down my tripod and hefty backpack with camera, my bulky body was near too much on the landing, causing me to slip, fall and hurt my shoulder.

    A few Advils and I was back to work, for a while. But those pictures just did not convey what I felt about the falls.

    So a couple years later, I ventured in again, this time without James while fighting a stuck kidney stone. After falling a dozen times on icy boulders leading to the falls, I felt if all else failed, I might at least dislodge the stone.

    I managed to get down the ledge this time in a lot less pain. I got this image, where I was surprised to find the swirling pool of water. The first visit found the falls solidly frozen. Of course, it was near zero the first trip. The second trip temperatures hovered around 20 degrees.

    While packing up it suddenly dawned on me why two of us had tackled the falls the first time - it took two of us to get out. Getting back up that solid wall of rock and ice on which I'd jumped won was impossible to scale without help. I was overmatched.

    Undaunted - I wanted the picture and got it. Now I wanted out and, well, I got that, too. But it wasn't easy. Since it was impossible to get out the way I got in, I opted to try to climb a 40-foot rock wall with crevasses. I managed to get high enough to toss my camera backpack onto a ledge above the wall. But I could not get a final leg up to climb out. Instead, I slipped. That left me hanging by my snow-encrusted fingers. I laughed at the absurdity of it all. What an image I must have made, like a giant lizard hanging onto a snow-covered rock wall.

    To get out, I found an unseen ledge and carefully used the toes of my stiff boots to inch my way around to safety while hugging the rock wall. Though cold out, I sure warmed up doing the task.

    As to the final image, I find it difficult to print. Trying to get detail in the shadows while making the snow sing proves to be near impossible. Still, it's a very unique image from the world where I live.

    It also always brings back a sense of wonder on my part, on how I managed to get in and back out while fighting a stuck kidney stone. Oh, the stone was removed during emergency surgery the same night Omak officer Mike Marshall was killed. But that's another story.