Explore... / November 1, 2024 by Carlton Doudney

Checking out a new location is always fun, the new the unexpected; but it’s a double edged sword because sometimes it’s a winner and often nice but not great for photography. I think this could be a winner.

It was a horribly steep pull to the summit from the start, the legs got a good workout.

Beinn Achaladair enjoys the afternoon sun.

A late start meant it was getting dark on my descent and fully dark once back at the car, legs aching feet sore and thoroughly exhausted I slumped into the drivers seat, this one is a winner and I’ll be back…

The Fannich Problem... / August 11, 2024 by Carlton Doudney

This range of mountains have proven to be troublesome in that winter attempts saw weather changes which required a bale out due to deteriorating conditions. The western part of the range proved to be no exception. My first attempt in the winter with full winter gear, ice axe, crampons and so on with all their incumbent weight saw next to no snow with the surrounding mountains an off greenish beige colour.

The initial trek through woodland was fine on a solid vehicle track, but then I had to cut down through thick heather, make a dodgy river crossing balancing on loose boulders and then continue up through boggy terrain. On reaching the bealach I dropped my gear and headed up the first target, An Coileachan with only my camera gear, it ws windy and I didn’t stop long.

Looking to the next days planned objective

I decided to stop on Bealach Ban at 775m high, I’d picked up water on the way up so was set, it was dull grey and I was tired by this point, time to retire, it was afternoon tea time. With such boring light there were no grand vistas to photograph so tucked into my sleeping bag for some reading, then part of a movie downloaded on the mobile. One has to be a little civilised after all…

Later that night it started to rain and the wind picked up, the forecast suggested no pickup in wind speed and only light snow the next day.

Soulo tent battling blizzard conditions.

I awoke to howling wind and blizzard conditions, I peeked outside to see snow flying past horizontally, I immediately hunkered back down into my winter sleeping bag and heavenly warmth. This wasn’t foreseen, I’d planned to camp another night up on the ridge line, but it would be even windier up there, and at present in was in the clag, nothing to see. There was nothing for it to but to head out and return another time, a long lie in was called for, at least until it was time to answer the call of nature, brrr.

With a stove full of spindrift there would be no hot breakfast, just flapjacks and some cold water, packing up would call on practiced skill and caeful speed in these conditions.

That was the end of the March winter attempt, fast forward to June and the summer err, okay, and a rematch was called for.

I decided to go anti clockwise this time, the weather forecast looked stable and it was a go, once again through the same woodland and along the track for a kilometre longer and cutting off in the opposite direction to my last visit.

I made it to my proposed camp ‘one' at 757m high having picked up water as far up as I could and yes, it started to rain as I scoured around for a good spot. As quickly as I could I got my tent up but the ground was soft and stony so had to collect rocks to weigh the pegs down. Once up and taught I dived in, a little on the damp side but glad to be under shelter.

The rain increased as I cooked under cover battering on the fly sheet, it seemed there would be no photos tonight and it was by now getting late. However later, on answering the call of nature the rain had ceased and the wind abated a little, looking towards Loch Broom there was an opportunity. It was action stations and getting the camera set up.

After a cosy night the next morning dawned with hardly any wind and a little sunshine, things were looking up, or so I thought. After breakfast I discovered I had signal so checked the weather forecast. Uh oh, you guessed it, all change from winds gusting to 20 mph now increasing through the day gusting to 60 mph, yikes, that put an end to the camp 2 along the ridge line.

I was here and decided I was going to push on and finish the other three mountains that had eluded me on my last visit no matter what, I would see about a lower camp for the second night. I packed up and slowly made my way up Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich at 954m, it was getting breezy.

I didn’t linger, Sgurr Mor was calling and it was the highest point of the trip at 1110m, it was a long slow slog with the wind building making breathing difficult all the way until it was howling on the summit. Nevertheless I decided to lunch here huddled behind the stone cairn, ha, I didn’t stop long but I was determined to enjoy the view, I’d earned it.

It was a long pull with a minor summit to straddle before the final mountain of Meal Gorm at 949m, the wind was getting stronger and it was difficult to put one foot in front of the other now each gust pulling and pushing each step this way and that. I took a breather in a massive stone shelter and had a snack before pushing on to the camp site of the previous outing back in March. I thought I might stop here but it was way too windy so dropped down a little further.

I dropped lower and lower but the wind seem to chase and harry me as I searched in vain for a suitable camping spot, the shoulders ached as did the legs from the effort of scouting around.

Beinn Dearg and Cona’ Mheall, a past adventure.

I’d gotten so low now a thought entered my head, push on out and head home, it was still a little windy but it was super boggy all around with little hope of finding dry ground.

My shoulders and hips begged, my legs pleaded to not go any further but there was nothing for it, trudge on out…ouch.

A trudge it was having started at just after 7 in the morning I made it back to the car at around 7 in the evening and with a tiring 3 hour drive home, 10pm saw me falling in the front door exhausted. I was taught in my horse riding days to sort your horse and gear first before yourself, I carried this practice over. I quickly sorted through my gear, hung things up to air, put things to wash and then threw a pizza in the oven and me in the gloriously hot shower.

It wasn’t quite the adventure I’d planned, it being a hard won trial of endurance in the end, but I was buoyed by the satisfaction of having conquered the Fannich problem.

Patience pays off... / March 17, 2024 by Carlton Doudney

I knew Am Faochagach had a particularly boggy approach, so I planned to either do it in the height of a dry summer or the cold of winter when everything would be frozen, the latter won out.

The ground was particularly frozen and I was making good time up until the first obstacle, the river crossing is known to be challenging to impossible when in spate. The issue now was that a lot of the boulders were covered in ice. I decided to take an alternate route further up but this meant some heather bashing which is hard work but I made it to the first river crossing, yes there would now be two hopefully easier crossings. The first was alright with a shallow gravel bank at an angle, with a hop, skip and a jump I was across; yippee.

The joy was soon short lived as I realised I was now having to cross through massive highly frustrating peat hags, some around 2 metres deep, the only up side they were frozen. I took close to an hour to navigate the short distance of about 200 metres to the next river, which looked harder to cross. I just went for it and luckily made it dry to the other side. Energy at a low I now had the steep pathless climb up to the shoulder I’d planned to camp on, I made it weary and fatigued just before dusk.

Up pre dawn the next morning to a tent both frosty on the inside and out but to a cracking morning with beautiful views.

It was a fantastic morning that kept on giving, the frost covered hillside adding to the atmosphere not to mention what you can’t see, the lovely clean, crisp fresh air.

The Fannichs, a future challenge with issues!

I had breakfast, porridge of course washed down with delicious hot coffee followed by a small siesta, yes already; but it was so warm and cosy in my tent. I paid for this later as I didn’t pack up for the next part of the ascent until around 11am, tsk,tsk.

I plotted my route visually up the hillside, but it wasn’t long before I hit the snow line which slowed things down. After a slog with many gasping rest stops, the joys of carrying winter gear together with water for the summit camp, I made it up onto the ridge line. The angle was easier, but the snow ankle deep or so, which still slowed things down. My goal was in sight and with fading vigour I pushed on to the summit where there was a brisk chilling breeze.

This sparked a little more energy, however I was torn between getting some images and getting the all important camp set up, the light was starting to go. The photography won.

A few images in the bag and a new problem appeared, the ground was frozen solid, no way to get tte pegs to secure the tent with. I spent 40 minutes scouring around the summit to no avail. Eventually I found a spot which the pegs went into if only as a token gesture, any strong wind would probably play with their weakness, I was carful not to sneeze. Luckily the Hilleberg Soulo tent is fully free standing or else I would have had to descend to some spot where pegs would gain purchase.

It was good to be out of the bone chilling breeze in my tent where I could coax some feeling back into my fingers and get my pasta dinner on the go. After listening to a little music I peeked outside to see starry skies, no rest for the wicked, it was tome to muster up and get out there.

A distant Ben Wyvis with the lights of Inverness beyond.

After midnight and a brief look outside the starry skies had been replaced with thick fog and zero visibility, more concerning was the noticeable pick up in wind speed.

I slept fitfully as the tent flapped in protest and awoke early, I waited until it would be dawn where I would beat a hasty retreat, though it was still quite dark come the time. No time for porridge or coffee, just a flapjack and cold water stored in a vacuum flask to prevent it freezing, my pockets filled with snacks for energy on the descent. The fog swirled in and around, the wind making strange noises as with practiced skill born out of experience, I speedily packed everything away. It was good to be on the move, the summit no longer felt welcoming and hinted that I should leave, now.

Navigation was taxing as it always is in these conditions in deep snow with the wind blowing you around and visibility poor at best. Eventually I dropped below the level of the fog and could see where I had to aim for, it was time for a break and some of those snacks.

I headed back down directly for the spot where I couldn’t cross the river before, I was determined even if I had to wade the icy waters, there was dry clothing back in the car. On arrival at my nemesis I searched up and down the river, there were possible convoluted crossing points but again ice covered boulders. I hit on a solution, I’d carried them the whole trip but never needed them, crampons. I strapped them on and with a questionable balancing act proceeded to step out onto the icy boulders, the rushing deep water baiting me; aided by my trekking poles, step by step I made my way across.

On the other side I scrambled up onto the bank and gave out a small embarrassing shout of joy, problem solved. With almost a spring in my step, well, in my mind at least I headed back to the car, dry feet and success. Patience had paid off and the timing just perfect. Task complete.

The best laid plans... / December 10, 2023 by Carlton Doudney

I should have known better, it was a rather tardy start fuelled by a lack of motivation, the weather forecast for my chosen location was just below poor. As usual 5 days prior it was looking quite good, clear skies from midnight on until around 4 am ‘ish’. I had it all planned, a summit camp on Carn a’ Mhaim with a starry panorama of the Devil’s Point through to the end of the Lairig Ghru together with a timelapse of the same composition.

Of course as the time drew nearer the forecast changed, good, not so good, good again and indeed driving up to the Glenshee ski centre ( the highest piece of main road in the UK at just over 650 metres) it was socked in with little visibility even at this altitude. I pushed on down over the other side on the road to Braemar and the summit of Carn Turic was in cloud. It didn’t look promising.

In an almost empty, frozen Linn Of Dee car park I geared up, in the shade I could feel the cold seeping through my clothing, this would soon change once I was on the move and had a head of steam up. The load which at first seemed not too heavy was soon starting to feel a little more weighty, the joys of winter camping.

The snowy track was crispy under foot, the air cold on my face but I was pretty warm by now and surprisingly I made it to Derry Lodge in record time. It was time for a late lunch and to sort out a persistent heel rub, my winter boots still a nuisance in this respect.

The energy was fading under the effort but finally I made most of the way through Glen Luibeg up to the trees which meant a little bush wacking and some limbo work. The light was failing rapidly as I tried to speed up my twisty passage through the maze of young pine trees with little reward. It was dark by the time I made it to the foot bridge, as I scooted across the frozen structure I noted that the icy edges of the river down below would make it impossible to safely get water. I went up the steep slope to where things levelled out a bit, shrugged of my pack; it was time for a think. The mist had now dropped, this didn’t bode well for pushing on to the summit, I did however find a small running stream for water so filled up.

After drinking some of my coffee from my flask and much pacing up and down I decided it was time to retreat and save this one for another day. I now faced a long trek back eventually arriving at Derry Lodge, I new of a good spot that I had camped at before and with a sigh of relief dropped my heavy pack.

There was no wind as I set up my tent in the dark, lucky as the ground was frozen solid and the few pegs I deployed were more for show, they barely penetrated the ground. That night the temperature dropped to a low of -13ºC, a bit on the chilly side and another reason for keeping water in a flask rather than a normal water bottle which would have frozen solid.

At midnight I ventured outside, the sky had cleared revealing a starry night, I went through effort of crawling into the tent to get camera, gloves, and tripod; I might yet get a timelapse. With everything set up, it would run for just under three hours so retired back to the sanctuary of my tent climbing back onto the warmth of my sleeping bag.

Don’t you just know it, glancing outside about an hour later and it had clouded over, game over…

It was a lovely looking morning if somewhat frozen as I crawled stiffly out of my tent, after some porridge there were some opportunities here, the porridge was rammed down hastily. I was quite enjoying the peace and I had the place to my self just to bumble around, joy.

As I looked up Glen Luibeg I could just see Carn a’ Mhaim which I had stood at the base of so far away the night before, the summit still in cloud. I’d made the right choice.

It was time to pack up and make the trek out, it always seems longer, the pack heavier though I’d eaten the food, hmm. I stopped about half way back for a breather but could see the bridge which meant it wasn’t too far now.

Morning sun brushes frosty trees in the icy air.

It hadn’t been the trip I’d hoped for or planned, but I still enjoyed my little outing and came away with some pleasing images. It may have been a tardy start, but I suspect my trip would have been less successful if I’d left on time.

Funny how things turn out…

Unfinished business... / November 17, 2023 by Carlton Doudney

Back in March of 23 I attempted a winter ascent of Sgurr Breac and A’Chailleach, two mountains at the eastern end of the Fannich mountains. Difficulty finding a safe route up steep crags and when I did the beginning of the ridge was a mass of peat hags all full of drifted snow, the going a slog and the weather ahead looking decidedly unfriendly. I regretfully decided today wasn’t the day and had to turn back.

Fast forward to late summer and I was back with avengeance, I figured that I could make it a longer trip and add in three more mountains, fool. This would make a total of five summits and on minor summit.

I arrived at the parking spot at 8.30 in the morning after a 31/2 hour drive, it was already warm and the beasties were gathering for breakfast, it was not a good omen for the day to come.

I pushed on, it got warmer and warmer, the path familiar, soon I was over the foot bridge and on the boggy bit looking up at the summer clothed crags, all snow gone and a route up looking quite easy now. I pressed on squelching as I went the sun getting hotter and hotter, no chance to stop as the wee critters were on me in a flash feasting.

Part way up there was a small shaded haven where I stopped for a breather and there was a small clear stream of clear sweet cool water, it was delicious. On I went traversing up the steep sided endless hill, the sun beating down glad I’d brought my sun hat.

I made it the to first bealach (saddle), dropped my gear and relieved of the weight headed for the first summit with just water and camera gear. I didn’t linger, I wanted to get back to my gear and set my first camp, it had already been a long day.

I was exhausted, the legs wondering what had hit them, I was now beginning to think that I had bitten off more than I could chew, another four summits?

First light on the first summit of the previous day.

Next morning I was determined to at least do the next summit, gear packed, legs stiff and I set off for the mighty Sgurr nan Clach Geala sitting at 1093m high, it was a slog but at least there was a breeze to help keep things cooler.

I took a deserved break on the summit and enjoyed the views towards Loch Fannich and around to the next summit, cooling in the somewhat stiffer breeze. Ready for the off I headed down a steep path to the next bealach where I would set up camp 2 before heading up summit number three, Sgurr nan Each.

Camp 2 set, a spot of lunch and a wee siesta I figured I should set off again with just water and the camera gear, pretty much a swift up and back down; afternoon tea was calling.

After a good nights sleep it was time for a dreaded long decent followed by a stiff pull back up the first of the two hills Sgur Breac which I’d missed in March.

Having made it down it was nice to be out of the breeze for a short while though I didn’t linger as there was still a long haul ahead.

Looking towards Sgurr Breac and A’ Chailleach

I started up yet once more and soon found some more challenges, there were some parts of the path requiring a little scrambling, I wasn’t expecting this and it was no mean feat with all the camping gear on board. The higher I ascended the stiffer the breeze became, stronger than any other in my trip.

I was tempted to set up camp three on the flat summit but it was a little too breezy and there was still away to go. The thorn in the side being an ascent of Toman Coinnich a minor summit to be taken care of before dropping down and up again to the final summit of A’ Chailleach. It was a pull and a half but having made it to the other side I found a spot for camp 3 on the beallach between Toman Coinnich and A’Chailleach.

With protesting legs I made it up the final summit a little surprised that I’d made it around all the summits, I glanced over to Slioch, (The Spear) site of a previous adventure.

It was a blowy night with a little rain but I slept well regardless and it was now time to walk out and back to my car. I made the mistake of taking what I thought would be a shortcut, hmm.

I descended steep pathless ankle twisting slopes only to be confronted by a 6ft deer fence, I looked up and down, no stile to go over. I would have to climb over and struggling, wire cutting into my hands the fence bendy I made it over. It was less steep but lots of undergrowth to bushwack through. It didn’t end there though for now I was faced with the other side of the enclosure and more fence to climb. I lightened my load as much as I could passing bits of equipment and the camera bag over to the other side, but I still had to go over with the heavy backpack on.

Some open moorland and I finally made it to the track I’d seen from on high, now under a beating sun and no breeze. I pressed on under the relentless heat and when in sight of the foot bridge I would need to cross, took a break. It was here that I realised I’d lost my beloved tatty old sunglasses, most likely at the first of the deer fences. I wasn’t sure and too exhausted to go back, they would be collateral damage.

I finally made it back to the car, changed clothing and drank warm fizzy water left in the car, what a trip, one that I had doubts I’d finish. 5 summits, 4 days, 3 nights 1 finished photographer. Unfinished business, FINISHED.

Well not quite, because I’d elected to take in the extra hills, there were now 4 more to do, the Western Fannichs…

Watch this space…

Time To Bite The Bullet... / July 31, 2023 by Carlton Doudney

I couldn’t put it off any longer, the name Seana Bhraigh continually stared back at me accusingly every time I looked at this section of map. One off Scotland’s most remote mountains with a close to 20 kilometre walk in had me putting it off again and again, but no longer, the time had come.

I’d planned a short first day doing only about 2 kilometres, but the spot I’d planned to camp at though nice and grassy was on arrival, still, humid and with every chance of it becoming a midge metropolis. I pushed on up above the tree line on to the open moorland but could find nowhere to pitch my tent, deep heather and boggy ground were all around. I settled for a small patch of flat, dry grass amongst the peat haggs, not the most glamorous of spots but it did offer shelter from the wind,

Water was the next problem, the legs didn’t have enough energy to drop way down the steep slope and back again, a half kilometre trot along the path to a river was needed, I just made it back as the rain kicked in. It was time for a cup of tea.

An early start the next morning and it was time to tackle the bulk of the walk in, it was a long twisty path with lots of up and down the skies remaining dull and grey.

After many breaks for a breather I finally arrived, ,I’d planned for one of two possible camp sites, I opted for the lower easier option because my legs were out of fuel but also because it was quite breezy and might increase in strength later on. It was a wise choice, it got breezier later on.

My second camp had great views looking towards the summit of Seana Bhraigh and wasn’t too far from a source of water. Oh, and it was almost flat.

The next day it was still breezy but the sun made an appearance and an almost early start saw me head on up towards the summit of Seana Bhraigh, it was a fair old pull but Munro 226 was bagged and the views quite extensive and spectacular.

It was much the case of not wanting to leave the summit but it was according to my stomach time to head back for lunch.

I made my way back down varying my route slightly to see what I could see, it seemed longer heading back and when I could just see my tent it looked small and distant, my stomach rumbled.

A long way back…

I stopped a few times when a possible image caught my eye.

As is often the case the closer I got, I didn’t actually seem to be getting any closer, mind you, if I didn’t keep stopping to take photographs perhaps my return would have been quicker.

A leisurely lunch, some reading and sitting in the sun on my return were a joy together with a little pottering about. It was nice to relax and not have to be pushing on. I spent my third night here, it was a beautiful spot.

The next day it was grey cloudy and it was time to pack up and prepare for the long walk out.

Photo opportunities still presented themselves on the walk out, it prolonged the walk but gave a chance of a break as well. Numerous folk were walking in doing a day trip, wow that’s a long day and the most asked question was ‘Are we close?’ I smiled, they still had a fair way to go.

One couple I met had camped at the spot where I was going to spend my first night, they confirmed my suspicions, they were eaten alive by midgies and were under siege in there tent the night before. Glad i listened to my inner voice, experience saving me.

I may have put this trip off many times but now there was an immense feeling of satisfaction having completed it and might even return, well, maybe… :)

Exhaustion not an option... / March 29, 2023 by Carlton Doudney

I arrived at the ski car park a little late but was determined to push on, this was too good an opportunity to miss. I’d planned to shoot the Milky Way arching over the Loch Avon basin, it would be in just the right location and clear skies were forecast, a rare occasion.

As it turned out there was quite a bit more snow than anticipated which slowed me down and sought to drain my energy levels quicker than I would have liked. This wasn’t so bad until I hit the steep pull up the flank of Cairn Lochan, the summer path hidden under the snow, it was time to don crampons to prevent any unwanted slips.

On reaching the top I’d forgotten how far it was across and down to where I’d camped before and now in the failing light it seemed to get more distant the faster I tried to go. With so much drifted snow not only was it hard to locate my favourite spot but the deep snow was taking it’s toll on my poor tired legs.

With darkness setting in I was now in a bit of a pickle, forced to dig out the head torch it was difficult to find a flat spot, when I did it was impossible to get the pegs into the ground. After an hour of trudging around in circles and cramp setting in to my legs, I hadn’t been drinking anywhere enough fluids, I finally found somewhere to get the tent up.

All I wanted to do was jump into my sleeping bag and get some food on, I hadn’t even stopped for lunch and my stomach was hinting profusely with incessant rumbling noises. I still had to trundle down the slope to perch precariously on the side of the burn (stream) to get some water.

By the time I got back to my tent I was all for calling it a day, I had no energy left for the challenges the night time photography posed. I shrugged the lack of energy off, I’d made it this far so grabbed the camera bag, tripod and started the half kilometre slog over to my shooting position.

Star trails were the first order of business with the Fuji camera it was possible to set the timer to run for half an hour and leave it run, meanwhile I worked out my start and finish points for shooting a panorama for the Milky Way arch.

Star trails finished and I did a series of shots for my panorama, took a few other shots then was ready to head back to the tent. I moved the camera just as I saw the beginning of the Aurora. Dinner and sleep would have to wait, I stayed for nearly another hour photographing the spectacular light show before me.

It was finally time to call it a night as I made my way wearily but oddly in high spirits back to my home for the night, there was a surprise waiting for me. I settled in an started to get dinner on, except I’d accidently left the dehydrated pasta dish at home, I was too tired to curse and so my uneaten lunch became my dinner. Oh well it was quicker and easier washed down with a large mug of hot sweet tea.

A couple of hours later and I was up again heading back to the same spot for sunrise, it was beautiful but paled after last nights performance.

I had a lazy morning after that taking in a snooze before a breakfast of porridge and hot coffee ready for the walk out.

How humble my little red shelter looked in the middle of the vastness of the Cairngorms.

I enjoyed a more leisurely walk out enjoying the warmth of the sun after an overnight temperature of -10ºC, a chilly one.

Exhaustion was not an option and I was so glad I ignored the aches and pains, it was a privilege to witness the Aurora and my Milky Way panorama was far more spectacular than I could have ever imagined it would be. Exhaustion, what exhaustion?

At last... / July 17, 2022 by Carlton Doudney

…it was time to visit a small hill that I’d been eying up for a while, near another small hill that was a favourite on Rannoch Moor with a view to seeing how the the scene varied from a different perspective.

Part of the reason for visiting this spot was also to photograph Noctilucent Clouds if they appeared. Noctilucent Clouds (night shining clouds) form at an altitude of 75 - 85 kilometres high and are made up of tiny ice crystals; only visible in the twilight night when it never truly gets dark, the clouds reflecting the light from the sun.

With sunset shot, a couple of hours sleep then up for the Noctilucent Clouds then crawl back into the tent for a couple more hours before getting up again for sunrise, phew, hard work is summer.

With blurry eyes I shot sunrise in the fresh morning air taking advantage of the 360º views.

With sunrise shooting over I crawled once more back into my tent and a warm sleeping bag for a well deserved sleep, well, at least until the sun turned the temperature up to cooking on the dial.

It was an easy downhill wander back to the car and a lazy drive home, window down and thinking about a return trip if not in the summer perhaps the autumn or the winter if there was a good fall of snow. Question is which of my two favourite hills do I visit?