Through the Lens: Capturing Eugene's Willamette Valley Landscapes & Urban Art

There's something about plains and valleys that speaks to my soul. Perhaps it's those teenage years spent on my grandfather's Wyoming ranch, where I first learned to appreciate how light moves across open spaces. The Willamette Valley offers this same magic, but with its own Pacific Northwest character—less harsh than the high plains, softer and more forgiving to the camera.

My first morning in Eugene, I rose before dawn and drove east toward Mount Pisgah. The arboretum there provides elevated views that let you capture the valley awakening. I set up my tripod and waited as the landscape transformed minute by minute. The key to shooting valleys is patience—waiting for that perfect moment when fog lifts partially, creating depth and mystery while the golden light skims across the landscape.

What surprised me most was how the agricultural patterns created natural leading lines in my compositions. Rows of crops, fence lines, and the meandering Willamette River all offered visual pathways that I used to draw the viewer's eye through the frame. I found myself switching between my wide angle lens for sweeping landscapes and my 70-200mm to compress and isolate interesting patterns in distant fields.

The valley's horse farms particularly captured my attention. As someone who's photographed horse cultures across multiple continents, I couldn't resist stopping at several ranches along Territorial Highway. With permission from friendly owners, I spent a magical sunset shooting silhouettes of horses against the golden valley backdrop—a scene that transported me back to those formative days when I first fell in love with photography.

Shooting both vast landscapes and detailed urban art requires versatility in your kit. For this trip, I traveled relatively light but prepared for Eugene's variable fall weather. My camera backpack has been my loyal companion across four continents, and its weatherproof exterior proved essential during a couple of unexpected Oregon showers.

For valley landscapes, I primarily relied on my full-frame camera with three key lenses: a 16-35mm for those sweeping valley vistas, a 24-70mm for versatility, and a 70-200mm for compressed landscape shots that highlight the layering effect of the valley's rolling terrain. A polarizing filter was essential for managing glare off morning dew and enhancing the richness of fall colors.

When shooting in the valley during fall, the light changes quickly. I found myself constantly adjusting exposure as clouds moved across the sun. Bracketing exposures became second nature, especially during those dramatic early morning shoots when the dynamic range exceeded what my sensor could capture in a single frame.

For urban photography, I switched to a lighter setup, often just carrying my camera with a 35mm prime lens—perfect for street photography and capturing the detailed murals throughout Eugene. The fast aperture let me work in the diminishing light of evening, when the urban art often takes on a new character under artificial lighting.

Don't underestimate the importance of a good tripod for those dawn and dusk landscape shots. My carbon fiber model is lightweight enough to hike with but sturdy enough to remain stable in the valley breezes that picked up each afternoon.

Eugene surprised me. For a city of its size, the density and quality of its street art rivals much larger urban centers. After spending mornings in the valley's open spaces, I dedicated my afternoons to exploring Eugene's vibrant mural scene, which offered a fascinating contrast to the natural landscapes.

The 20x21EUG Mural Project has transformed downtown Eugene into an open-air gallery, with works by international and local artists adorning buildings throughout the city. As a photographer, these colorful murals presented both opportunities and challenges. The scale of some pieces required creative framing—sometimes I'd focus on capturing interesting details rather than attempting to document the entire mural in one frame.

Lighting proved critical when photographing these urban artworks. Early morning or late afternoon provided directional light that revealed texture in the murals, while avoiding the harsh shadows and reflections of midday. I often found myself returning to the same mural at different times to capture how changing light transformed its appearance.

Whiteaker neighborhood became my favorite hunting ground for authentic street art. This bohemian district houses some of Eugene's most interesting pieces, and the gritty urban textures surrounding the artwork added context and depth to my photographs. I spent hours wandering these streets, my camera strap keeping my gear comfortable and ready as I documented this unexpected side of Eugene.

What struck me most was how the urban art reflected themes I'd observed in the valley—there's a reverence for nature and open space even in Eugene's most urban expressions. This connection between the city's art and its surrounding landscape became the thematic thread that tied my photographic project together.

My passion for photographing horse cultures began on my grandfather's Wyoming ranch, so I made it a priority to connect with Eugene's equestrian community. The Willamette Valley's rich agricultural heritage includes a thriving horse culture that ranges from working ranches to competitive training facilities.

I spent a memorable morning at a family-owned quarter horse ranch near Creswell, about 10 miles south of Eugene. The owners welcomed me after I explained my project documenting horse cultures around the world. They were preparing horses for the upcoming fall events, and the scene of riders working with their horses in the misty morning light created images that felt timeless.

The technical challenge of photographing horses in motion pushed my skills. I relied on my telephoto lens with its excellent image stabilization to capture sharp images even in the soft early light. The lens's compression effect also helped isolate the horses against the valley background, creating those layered compositions I love.

What struck me was how the landscape shaped the equestrian activities here—different from the wide-open plains I'm accustomed to photographing. The valley's rolling terrain and tree-lined horizons created natural framing elements that added depth to my compositions. I found myself looking for moments when horses crested hills, creating dramatic silhouettes against the morning sky.

These sessions reconnected me with why I began photography in the first place—that desire to document the relationship between people, animals, and landscape. In the Willamette Valley, I found a horse culture that might be less known than those in Montana or Kentucky, but one that's deeply connected to the land and worth preserving through photography.

While researching photographic opportunities around Eugene, I discovered that Lane County houses more historic covered bridges than any other county west of the Mississippi. These architectural treasures offered a perfect complement to my landscape and urban photography, adding a human element to the natural beauty of the region.

I dedicated a full day to creating a covered bridge circuit, mapping out six bridges within driving distance of Eugene. The Dorena Bridge became my favorite—its location spanning the Row River creates perfect reflections on still mornings. I arrived before sunrise, set up my neutral density filter to allow for longer exposures, and captured the bridge with its reflection as the first light painted the scene.

Photographing these structures taught me to see beyond the obvious postcard shot. While the exterior views are certainly picturesque, I found equally compelling images inside the bridges, where light filters through cracks and openings, creating dramatic patterns on the wooden interiors. These structures became a study in light and shadow, history and craftsmanship.

The fall timing of my visit couldn't have been better. The bridges, many painted in rustic red, stood in beautiful contrast to the yellows and oranges of autumn foliage. I experimented with compositions that framed the bridges with overhanging branches, adding seasonal context to these historic structures.

What made these covered bridge photographs meaningful was understanding their place in the valley's story. Built primarily in the early 20th century, they represent the ingenuity of early settlers who designed the covers to protect the wooden bridge structures from Oregon's abundant rainfall. Like my work documenting horse cultures, these images preserve a connection to the region's past while celebrating its present beauty.