Should I Stop..? / May 8, 2021 by Carlton Doudney

This is often the question, usually running late when something catches my eye enroute, either in the car or out walking. I’ll see a possible image but time is pressing and know I probably won’t have time to stop, but I’ll regret it if I don’t stop.

The track was a good vehicle track without obstacles but as usual I was racing the sunrise and putting on a good pace, add to that I’d not been here before so finding a good spot would be needed on arriving for my intended shot. But there was a temperature inversion over the small town of Crieff with the street lights just showing through and the wooded hill just behind called The Knock. I had to stop, it would only take a few moments, wouldn’t it? Well luckily yes, the movements to image capture well rehearsed and almost like a dance as the tripod is set, camera mounted, parameters set and image taken.

Job done I was really pushed and ploughed on along the never ending track to the top followed by some hurried location finding, it was time to get those lungs and heart firing again.

I managed to take the shot I was after, a panorama of Loch Turret with its’ westerly hills, but with a largely cloudless sky, the morning sun had little to offer as it broke over. A return is in order on a more beneficially photographic day. I was glad I stopped, for me the best image of the day was the one that caught my eye and no regrets.

How to slam a car door quietly... / March 25, 2021 by Carlton Doudney

The parking spot is by a couple of houses and at 3am in the morning I didn’t want to wake anybody, especially as they might think they were about to be burgled and out comes the shot gun, it’s a quiet spot surrounded by farms. I think I managed to slam quietly enough, there were no loud bangs from any shotgun.

The plan was to shoot (pun intended) the Milky way over Innerpeffrey Castle, an old ruin dating from the early 1600s although a building of some sort is believed to have been here since the early 1500s. Having been here in daylight to check the area out I made my way hastily along the farm track under the light of my head torch and wriggled around the first gate a swing gate. Carefully I manoeuvred along a little further to the next gate which required hopping over a stone wall and continuing along the path that follows the River Earn.

Past tall dark trees and another swing gate and I was on site, alas there were more clouds then anticipated and with the light pollution lighting the clouds It was hard to see the Milky Way it being feint anyway. But after much repositioning now with the head torch changed to a red light to preserve night vision I managed to get a shot. It wasn’t the panorama I’d planned but it was somthing.

With a couple of hours to go to sunrise I thought I might as well break out the coffee and pastries to while away the time and sat on a convenient bench back on the river bank. I drank a couple of cups of hot steaming coffee and listened to the sound of the river in its relentless journey, glancing back at the dark copse of trees It struck me the the clouds seemed a little less, I could try a panorama shot from here that would take in just under a 180 degree sweep.

Success, the arch of the Milky way was there, it was feint and I wasn’t fully sure until after returning home and stitching the images together but there it was. I celebrated with another coffee, it was getting chilly and a slight ground frost was setting in.

I went back to the castle, a fine layer of frost on my boots to photograph the castle in the dawn light and await the warmth of the rising sun.

It was a beautiful morning as the light got brighter and the countryside started to awaken with the dawn chorus, I took in a deep breath of sweet air.

The sun starts to warm the old stone work

It looked as though the outing would not be a success, however this was not the case, it just turned out different and as is often the case a surprise. Oh for a time machine to see what this place would have looked like in its hey day. I made my way back to the car, still no sign of angry householders, my quiet car door slamming mustn’t be too bad.

One Hell Of A Day... / February 23, 2021 by Carlton Doudney

The plan had been rattling around in the back of my head for a number of years, finally the timing and energy were right, if only I’d known what lay ahead. The idea was to ski the usual route of the summer path from where you see my shadow in the image above, along the righthand side of the loch to the far end, up through a steep notch, ascending to the distant summit of Ben Chonzie, back over the hills above the loch and descend to my start point. In the summer about 6-7 hours depending on how many stops you make.

The first obstacle was that half way to the car park by the loch the road was completely buried under snow and being a bit too ambitious I got the car stuck, a little digging and I reversed back 30 metres to a flattish area by the road and parked there. This would add a further 2 kilometres to the trip at both ends.

The temperature was around -10ºC but with some warmth when the sun started to rise, the snow soft and powdery which was quite pleasant but breaking trail taxing. This part of the route would normally be a vehicle track, now completely drifted over and unrecognisable.

I glided along with some effort on the up hill sections, glad of the down hill parts powered by gravity and stopping at each burn (stream) that crossed my path for a slug of water.

I finally made it to the end of the track to a large open bowl (corrie) which I traversed around for the beginning of the steep stuff.

From this point to the summit it was icy and there was nothing for it but to strap the skis to my pack and swap over to Ice axe and crampons. Alas it wasn’t to be straight forward as the the snow was hollow in many places and my foot would go through, highly irritating, uncomfortable and making progress slow going.

I forged on muttering on about beginning to wish I’d stayed at home and watched the TV… :) I finally made it to the summit, wind howling and mist blowing in and out, gone was any thought of a leisurely lunch, a quick bite to eat and a couple cups of my ginger tea hastily choked down and it was time to push on. Another chap turned up on skis from the other direction, a quick conversation ( much shouting against the wind) and we both went our separate ways.

I was back on skis but it was still icy and not the best, I was behind time now and was anxious to make up time but care was required.

I made it to the next summit Carn Chois on icy wind scoured snow, now with the sun on the horizon I decided to carry on, no time to stop here for a break. I started to ski down but decided to stop and get the skis off, crampons on the frozen snow rough and lumpy, the sun dipping below the horizon and visibility difficult. It seemed a slow laborious age before I was back on a snow covered vehicle track on the other side of the loch, but the snow was soft once again and it was time to put the skis back on.

Looking back to the summit of Ben Chonzie.

Exhausted but still a way to go I pushed on and finally made it to the dam at the head of the loch, from here finally the going was easier and with tired arms a sore feet I skied back down the road to the car with my head torch now illuminating the way, what a wonderful sight. I’d soon be home and a hot shower…

It didn’t take long to change ,drink the last of my ginger tea and … I was going nowhere. My car is a 4x4, but it had frozen solid under the wheels, the snow covered road a tantalising 1.5 metres away but all four wheels spinning I was stuck. I spent an hour trying everything I know trying to extract myself but it wasn’t happening. I had to give in and call for help. After some time a chap turned up with a truck with a winch and with some tribulations I was finally out.

I’d left home at 6.30 am and returned at 11.30 pm, the tour had taken almost 12 hours (around 20 killometres) plus my extraction adventures, home never felt so good. It was an adventure to look back on with a feeling of success and amusement even though it was a pure slog for most of the time; but I’d completed the route as imagined, a satisfying achievement to be sure.

It was one hell of a day…

Ben Vorlich Under The Snow / January 11, 2021 by Carlton Doudney

I visited Ben Vorlich back in the autumn, but now with a fresh layer of snow it was hard to resist a return visit with a new adornment of white fun. For once I remembered to charge the battery in the head torch, I needn’t have bothered, with a full moon and snow on the ground my surroundings were lit up with a silvery blue light giving an otherworldly atmosphere and plenty of light to illuminate the way.

It was easy going at first and headway good, that would change the higher I ascended where a lot of the path was just solid ice from water run off, though I could skirt around either side of the path for most of the way. I resisted crampons at this stage, I could still keep a good pace and crampons tend to slow you down until absolutely needed. Eventually I was on steep snow and they were needed, but in many places the drifts were deep and heavy going on the upward track. I’d forgotten how exhausting it could be, hmm maybe I need snow shoes :)

Eventually I made it to the summit and a stiff wind, temperature -7ºC, windchill -15ºC, ha, I didn’t hang around for long my targeted spot a little further down the other side on a small spur. There was little respite from the wind though and as soon as I stopped the big down jacket was out of the camera bag and wrapped around me, hand warmers activated and jammed into gloves.

First thing I looked out for was the moon, a full moon was setting just around the same time as the sun was going to rise, one of the best times to capture an image of the moon. In this case it sank below a low cloud bank tinged with pink from the about to rise sun.

I’d considered carrying on to Stuc à Chroin mulling it over whilst I ate my second breakfast of hot coffee and butter with apricot jam filled croissant, but the legs weren’t up to it and besides the best of the light would be finished by the time I got there. It would warrant a return though via a different route probably.

A distant Ben More with earth shadow behind

It was still a long walk out without doing Stuc à Chroin or taking to the summit of Ben Vorlich again, exhausted I eventually made it back the the car, but what a cracking morning it had been. At least it won’t matter if I forget to charge the head torch battery on my next early morning jaunt…

Visiting an old friend... Ben Vrackie / November 24, 2020 by Carlton Doudney

It’s been a few years since I made the journey to the summit of this hill standing at 841 metres high which is a shame because the views are extensive and, well, as hills go it’s not too hard on the legs and since my last visit the path has been upgraded.

Starting out in the dark as usual for a sunrise shoot, head torch fired up it was thankfully not too hard to find the route unlike some hills in the dark and before long I was making good time on the gentle incline, the path only really steep for the last short pull. At the bottom of the steep section I paused for a breath and a battery change in the head torch though I didn’t need it for much longer.

On making it to the summit one thing was the same as last time, it was pretty windy, gusting to 35mph/56kph and with a temperature of -4ºC that translated into a windchill of around -12ºC, chilly. Getting the down jacket on and gloves to operate the camera were the first order of business.

Clothing sorted constructing compositions was straight forward having been here before I new what I was looking for though as always being open to anything new on the ground as it arises. My primary object was a panorama of Beinn A’ Ghlo, a superb view at this time of the year being side lit from the south east at sunrise in the winter months. This panorama 7 shots in total stitched to form the final image in Adobe Lightroom.

A beam of warm sunlight launches itself underneath a moody Beinn A’ Ghlo.

The windy conditions made the tripod I dragged up here unusable, most images were handheld using a combination of iso values and aperture settings to get sufficient shutter speeds. Oh and a little luck together with something to lean against or sit on was a boon. Using such techniques even at longer focal lengths often saves the day, ranges from 24mm right up to 400mm are possible with some practice; dodging gusts of wind helps in this regard. Ahh the wind always present when you don’t want it, never there when you do.

The River Tummel slowly winds its way under a pre dawn golden sky

With the sun rising high in the sky it was time to go check on a second camera set up to film a timelapse, (viewable on Instagram) resting on a glove nestled in a rock, it was still there and not blown half way down the mountain, a relief; I’d almost forgotten it was there. I baulked at the thought of carrying 2 tripods up the hill and this probably worked out better anyway.

It had been a couple of hours since I arrived here but it only seemed like minutes, my stomach reminded me it wanted feeding, 2nd breakfast, hot coffee together with tasty ham and cheese croissants.

The beauty of ascending in the dark is that on the descent you get to see what you missed on the way up, the golden grasses which are green in the summer made for a great foreground content in this view back up the hill.

It was a great outing but most of all it was good to see an old friend again with more to revisit, I can’t wait…

Return to the Buachaille... / October 21, 2020 by Carlton Doudney

It was about time to return to Buachaille Etive Mor ( trans. big herdsman of Etive) for a fifth time, probably the most photographed mountain in Scotland, on most calendars, but what you don’t see is imagery from the summit! The standard route is up through the main gully of Coire na Tulaich, easy to start but steepens until you are on slippery rocks that follow the line of the river. It just gets harder from here on up as the gully starts to open a little it gets steeper and steeper, rocks under foot turn to scree, lots of it; all loose. One step forward two steps backward with worse to come and on it goes, sapping strength out of your poor tired legs.

To top it off it was still dark and my headtorch went to half power to conserve energy resulting in light about as bright as a candle, I’d forgotten to recharge the battery. At the top of the gully it’s almost vertical and a little bit of a scramble required.

Having broken over the top of the gully I peered back down, hot and well out of breath, wow what a sight, the scene before me fading in and out as the mist would open and close. I was pushed for time to make it to the summit for sunrise, but I knew I had to capture this view. I set up and the view closed in, nothing to see but shifting mist, I looked at my watch and did a rough calculation. Damn I could only afford to wait here for a little under ten minutes, I would have to go after that and it would still be a push. I was being optimistic at best.

I waited, the minutes ticking away and the mist refused to clear, I checked the time, looked at the route to the summit. It was still around a kilometre distance and about 130m ascent though solid under foot from here, still no view and being stationary I was beginning to feel the chill. I would have to go. Then it happened, just a brief opening in the mist WOW. I fired the shutter, rechecked the focus was good and fired another shot and that was it, the mist closed in. A practiced high speed pack up of camera gear and I was off.

Now as is often the case it was a push to the summit and I was racing the sun, heart pounding, lungs bursting to capacity and with every step upwards leg muscles complaining. For once I’d left home with good time in hand but had forgotten the torture of the scree gully; now it was back to the race against time.

Ideally I would have liked to have made the summit five minutes earlier, but I had to get that shot down the gully, sacrifices had to be made. However the summit position did not disappoint, it was still a game of see a composition set up and it would vanish in the mist, then I would have to wait patiently for the view to reappear and fire the shutter. The image on the right is of a misty Rannoch Moor in the early morning golden sun, but what can’t be seen is the sound track of Red Deer calling out in the rutting season, echoing up eerily from way down below.

So the game of hide and seek carried on with the mist revealing tantalisingly beautiful views only for the scene to close to that grey swirling mass of moisture.

Any onlooker would have laughed as I hopped, skipped and tripped my way back and forth from one side of the summit to the other as views opened and closed, resetting the tripod and camera as I went.

Misty flanks of Meall à Bhuiridh and Creise

It is truly amazing how quick time can pass during these operations and it was soon time for the traditional mountain breakfast.

Croissants filled one with salami and cheese, the other butter and apricot jam plus of course lashings of hot coffee…

Following 2nd breakfast I’d planned to head on down, but it was turning out to be a beautiful day so decided to head on over to next summit, poor legs :)

Finally it was time to call it a day, time was going on and energy levels were low, I hadn’t planned on being on high for so long so hadn’t any lunch with me and I’d drunk all the coffee.

After the long descent and extracting every last ounce of energy from the legs there was one more surprise in store, a light shower followed by a rainbow.

It had been a long hard day out on the hill, just a little over 12 hours to this point, but it was worth that torturous climb up the scree filled gully in the early hours of the morning, what a day. Now it was time to head home to collapse in front of the TV with a pizza and probably fall asleep before the end of the film… :)

Have a plan 'B' and 'C' for success... / September 18, 2020 by Carlton Doudney

I’d planned to go to climb the infamous Buachaille Etive Mor, but a check of the weather forecast last minute indicated that the ‘sunshine and showers’, and the potential for rainbows had descended into heavy showers, most disappointing. So to plan ‘B’ another hill I’d not climbed in a while, Carn Chois above Loch Turret, I was getting excited only to find on arriving at the start of the single track road; that two big red signs declared that the road was closed. Things were not going to plan.

No how can this be? So to execute plan ‘C’, which ironically I’d considered and discounted on the way to the Loch Turret road and plan ‘B’.

Finally I was off and on making it to the top of Torlum it didn’t look too great, a bit too cloudy although it was supposed to clear, I wasn’t convinced judging by the amount of cloud, fingers crossed.

I bush wacked my way through unforgiving pine trees, stumbled and tripped through rough heather, cursed a little, okay a lot, on the soft mossy ground to a spot where I knew you could see the mountain called Ben Vorlich, nope too much low cloud. But there was a small opening in the cloud as a couple of sun beams ( crepuscular rays) started to burst through.

Oooh, ooh, with the 100-400mm lens on this was looking like it might kick off with a dazzling display, I was not disappointed, it just got better and better, expletives were replaced with much more complimentary dialogue; the excitement kept on building.

I had to use the tripod like a monopod to shoot, it was too breezy and the ground underfoot too spongy for the tripod to be used normally, I tried single shots and multi shot panoramas as the one above, all the time hoping something was in focus. The breeze and the trying to stand still on this giant sponge were a challenge and I seemed to be swaying and rocking to the beat of the wind. Exposing for the highlight and keeping the shutter speed up helped keep me on track.

This was a truly magical light show, this was reality unfolding before my eyes in a spectacular fashion as the beams of light played across the landscape, dropping small spotlights here and there; forget so called virtual reality.

The last image on the hill, the one above was funnily the location of plan ‘B’, looked good from here but glad it didn’t pan out.

With the light fading it was time to head out, there was a pizza and a wee drop of red to wash it down with calling me.

I was forced to make one last image as I made my way down through the now spooky darkening forest, frightened me? Nah… of course not… ;)

So sometimes when things don’t go to plan it can turn out far better than expected, don’t give up, I was sure glad this day went a bit pear shaped. :)

Adventure to Sgurr Mor / July 14, 2020 by Carlton Doudney

It started warm and sunny, it continued to be that way together with high humidity for the rest of the day, starting on a good path that soon fizzled out; and the rest of the way was a hard slog over boggy rough ground. I new having looked at the map this would probably be the case, but did I have to be so right?

Perhaps I should have chosen something a little easier, it was the first big hill of the year and the poor legs were thrown in at the deep end, they were not to let me forget either. After trudging to the base of the mountain and a bit of rock hopping to cross the river at its base the only way was up.

The legs wanted to stop but I drove them on with just a brief pause to put on a rain jacket as a band of showers blew through. Twenty paces, rest, twenty paces rest, pick a target and don’t stop until reaching it; all the tricks to keep going until you get to your destination.

It was bliss to arrive and set up camp and get a mighty brew of tea on the go. Camp set, a short rest, dinner and away up Sgurr Beag armed with the camera and my first taste of the views to be had from this lower neighbour to Sgurr Mor. On returning to my room for the night it was 11o’clock already, ouch I would need to be up 3am, it was going to be a short night.

All too soon the alarm was singing, it was time to get togged up and move, poor legs.

What a fabulous morning, chill at 2ºC and I was glad of a down jacket, hmm summer… The air was misty and an eye had to be kept on the front lens element for condensation.

The sun finally warms the slopes of Sgurr na Ciche

The views were spectacular, worth the slog to get here and the return journey yet to done.

All too soon it was time to head back to the tent for breakfast, but I had to linger a little longer slowly turning and drinking in the views that surrounded me. It was difficult to leave.

It had been a hard outing with little in the way of paths and taken a little longer than expected, the legs were well and truly done in and on returning to the car their would be a long, tiring drive home. But wow what a trip.