Torridon Mountaineering
I've not managed to get out much in the snow this year, mainly because there has not been much snow to play in full stop. Early this month the stars aligned, snow and high pressure in the North West Highlands; so with the mountains of Torridon being one of my favourite places in the UK my weekend plans where swiftly modified to include a 7 hour drive north on Friday evening.
The trip was not about photography, but about traversing the ridge between the two Munro summits of Liathach, Mullach and Rathain and Spidean a'Choire Lieth. This under snow is one of the finest easy mountaineering challenges in the UK and had been on my wish list for a while. Weighed down with climbing equipment a heavy DSLR always feels a bit excessive and unnecessary, and there is the temptation to leave it behind. Its always worth the effort though as I hope the photos show.
Mam Tor Microadventure
Slightly disappointed in myself having made it to February and not camped out overnight yet, I took advantage of a good weekend forecast to head to the Peak District with the hope of spending the night on top of Mam Tor. The forecast was for fog in the morning and I was hoping for an inversion to be able to capture the ridge across to Loose Hill breaking through the cloud.
Most people think I'm slightly mad for camping out in winter, but I really enjoy it, it adds a little spice to the adventure, and also there is the satisfaction of brewing up on a cold crisp morning whilst feeling warm and refreshed from cold night air! After experimenting for ten plus years I've made most of the mistakes, forgetting my sleeping mat during a winter climbing trip to Pembroke was the worst, a horrible cold night with very little sleep ensued even though I had a bag rated to minus twenty! A good bag is certainly worth the investment, I bought mine at least a decade ago and its still toasty, and coupled with an Exped down mat I've never been cold even sleeping in just pants.
Mam Tor was particularly exciting spot to sleep as I was also camped in the remains of an iron age fort which covers the summit of the hill. I pitched up somewhere within the ancient ditches for the fort, now little more than furrows in the landscape but still substantial enough to offer a bit of shelter, although these days from the wind rather than the neighbouring tribe on the warpath. I found it inspiring to go to sleep thinking about all the others through the millennia who have called this hill home for a night, what were they doing there and what did the landscape around them look like?
Come morning the cloud inversion didn't happen but I did set some sunrise photos although shooting into the sun was a bit of a challenge i'm not used to. Not sure there is a stunning image amongst them but thats not the point.
Honister Microadventure
A Honister Microadventure... or how I went failed to find Warnscale Head Bothy.
There are very few bothies (buildings left open as simple overnight shelters) in England and most of these are in and around Kielder Forest in Northumberland. A couple exist in the Lakes though, one above Buttermere on Warnscale Head, which I wanted to visit as it's a fantastic viewpoint down the valley and a great location for some photography.
Originally built as part of the slate mines which delve and burrow through the hills in this part of the Lakes, the bothy is tiny, sleeping only three at a push, so as I left my car at Honister I threw my tent flysheet in my pack just in case.
Dusk was fast approaching as I climbed up the old incline to Dubs Quarry where a second Lakes bothy Dubs Hut sits nestled surrounded by scree and slate waste. Lights in the window showed the bothy was occupied for the night; I droped down towards Warnscale Head with Haystacks rapidly disappearing into the gloom towards where I thought the bothy was. Within 10 minutes or so the light and completely gone and I realised I had rather stupidly not bothered to get a grid reference for the hut so decided to find a patch of grass and pitch up for the night.
The spot I chose proved to be just about the least sheltered point I could have picked and the tent fabric snapped and rattled in the wind through the night, but cocooned in my bag I was warm as toast despite the temperature falling close to if not past freezing. Come morning I had a fantastic view down the valley but with the sun rising at my back behind the mountains the light was a little flat.
It was bitterly cold and the wind was still whipping past the tent so it was good to get moving up towards Haystacks to explore a view more photographic opportunities. The higher fells were still covered with snow which crunched satis-factually under my boots, the first snows of a new winter and hopefully one with many adventures to come.
Innominate tarn and Haystacks summit tarn were both frozen solid and offered some nice compositions, but taking any good photos proved a challenge as the low sun played havoc casting long dark shadows or brilliant glare across the landscape. Despite this is was good to be out and at least I can come back again and find the bothy intake for sunset next time.
Buttermere Micro Adventure
With the last colours of autumn fading I wanted to get out with the camera and try and capture some good images in the Lakes. Saturday was a bit overcast and made for poor images but I hoped Sunday would be better and if not the idea was to find a waterfall which is always a good fall back option when conditions crap out.
I camped Saturday night just above Buttermere as I wanted to try and take the classic view of the lake familiar from many others photographs. Its an unoriginal but great view, trees reflected in the still waters of the lake as the sun rises over the peak of Haystacks in the background.
In the end I was not disappointed, the overcast sky lit up well in the morning and I took some lovely images before the sun rose above the clouds and the light went flat. With big landscapes shots now obviously out for the day I walked up to explore Scale Force, the highest waterfall in the Lakes with a tremendous main drop go 35m down a narrow gorge. I took some nice images and got excited with the though of how the route would look in winter, apparently it form a good grade five which I can possibly persuade someone to drag me up.
I finished the day with a hike up to Red Pike whose summit was lost in cloud and being beaten by a bitter wind, before dropping steeply back to Buttermere via Bleberry Tarn. My legs certainly felt a little out of condition, not a good sign before what I hope to be a big winter of ski touring and winter climbing. I've spent too much time recently visiting easily accessible viewpoints with my camera rather than going for a big walk with my camera and taking what comes. Best get training...
Tarn Hows Microadventure
I first saw a picture of Tarn Hows in a book on landscape photography and was instantly captivated by the beauty of the view. The mirror still waters of the tarn surrounded by trees in the full riot of autumn colour, complemented by a group of slender pines on a spit of land which jutting out into the lake to lead the eye towards the mountains in the distance.
The tarn nestles in the low hills between Windermere and Coniston Water, an area I had always bypassed in search of walks and climbs on the higher fells to the north. This weekend I visited with the idea of camping and capturing the location at sunset and sunrise.
I took some shots as the sun sank slowly towards the horizon as shadows crept slowly up the bowel of the tarn and onto the hills beyond. I pitched the flysheet to face the view even though the ground was scarcely wide or level enough to do so. I’m currently using my one man tent flysheet as a tarp until I can splash out on a Trailstar.
With tea brewed I sat down to welcome dusk. As the light faded hundreds of birds swooped cartwheeled and darted just over my head, calling to each other as they zipped through the air with an audible whoosh.
There are the best of my images, the trees need a little more time to retreat to their more stark winter shapes, sacrificing their leaves to give them the energy to make it through winter.