Winter changes how places are used.

Trails that are busy the rest of the year go quiet. Access shifts. The rules soften or tighten depending on what the land can hold. Some places disappear for the season. Others briefly come back into reach.

This is one of those places.

Gold Creek Pond has, as of summer 2025, closed for renovations that could last up to a decade. And once those are finished, it won’t look or feel the same. I’ve photographed here for years.

Clients have loved it. I love it. It holds a lot of quiet memories for me.

When the snow arrives, the work pauses. Access opens back up. And for a few months each year, I’m able to return — and bring clients with me.

That matters to me more than I can probably explain cleanly.

Not because it’s dramatic. But because it’s familiar. Because it holds a lot of history. And because winter is the only season that gives us access to it now.

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Why This Place Matters (To Me, and to the Work)

Gold Creek Pond isn’t special because it’s dramatic or over-the-top.

It’s beautiful, yes. But that’s not the reason I keep coming back.

What makes it wonderful, especially in winter, is how much it naturally slows things down. It’s removed from the city, giving you space to just breath that fresh mountain air and be without the hustle and bustle of life and responsibilities.

The snow helps with that too. Fewer people make the trip, and the ones who do tend to be intentional about being there.

The walk in is a little longer in winter, but it’s flat and manageable. It gives dogs time to settle into the environment instead of being dropped straight into a photo session. By the time we arrive, they’ve already had space to move, sniff, and burn off some energy. All while we’re capturing them and the spirit of who they are.

I see a lot of the same patterns here. Some dogs explode into zoomies as soon as they hit the snow. Others put their heads down and get very serious about sniffing out the hidden scents. Most do a mix of both.

That’s why I like photographing here. I’m not trying to manufacture moments or rush toward a shot list. I let the dogs do what they’re going to do, and I document that as it unfolds.

With the renovations, winter is the only season that allows this kind of experience here right now. And that limitation is part of what keeps it feeling the way it does.

What Snow Gives That Other Seasons Don’t

In warmer months, landscapes compete for attention. Greens are loud. Backgrounds are busy. There’s a lot happening all at once. That can be beautiful, but it can also pull focus away from what most people actually care about, which is their dog.

Snow simplifies everything.

The landscape quiets down. Shapes become cleaner. Lines are easier to read.

Instead of your eye bouncing around the frame, it settles where it’s meant to — on your dog’s expression, their posture, the way they move through space.

It’s easier to make images here that feel timeless. Not trendy. Not seasonal in a way that dates them. Just clean, calm, and grounded.

Winter also gives a lot of flexibility artistically. Color images feel soft and intentional instead of busy. And black and white photographs, in particular, really shine in snow. Contrast becomes stronger. Texture stands out. Emotion carries more weight without distraction.

The result isn’t “look at this place.”

It’s “look at this dog.”

That’s the difference.

Snow doesn’t add drama, it removes excess. And what’s left tends to age well, both on the wall and in memory.

What to Expect (Logistics, Without the Stress)

The walk to Gold Creek Pond in winter is about 10–15 minutes from where we park. It’s mostly flat, but snow changes things. Some days the trail is well-packed and easy. Other days, fresh snowfall means snowshoes are helpful — sometimes recommended, sometimes optional, depending on conditions.

We move at a steady, unhurried pace.

Sessions here usually run close to two hours total, including the walk in and out. We build in time for breaks, warming up, letting dogs explore, and following their lead. Maybe a snowball fight.

(Because have you ever thrown a snowball for your dog like it was a ball and then watched them try to figure out where it disappeared to? Hilarious!)

Cold is something we plan for, not push through. I’ll guide you on layering, hand warmers, and what works best for winter comfort.

For dogs, things like Musher’s Secret and extra water make a real difference, and I’m always watching their energy and comfort level to make sure we turn back before anyone is too tired or cold.

You don’t need winter hiking experience. You don’t need to be “outdoorsy.” You just need to be open to moving a little slower and having fun in the snow with your dog.

Who These Sessions Are (and Aren’t) For

These sessions tend to be a great fit for dogs who love snow and movement, especially double-coated breeds like Huskies, Malamutes, Saint Bernards, and other dogs built for cold and exploration.

Higher-energy dogs often thrive here; the environment gives them space to be themselves without much distraction.

They’re not a good fit for small dogs, short-coated dogs, or dogs with mobility challenges. Not because they aren’t wonderful, but because this environment asks something physical of them, and comfort always comes first.

If snow feels grounding rather than inconvenient, and you value atmosphere, presence, and time over polish and efficiency, this place often feels like home.

And if it doesn’t? That’s okay too.

Not every story belongs in winter.