When the hills give they give it all... / July 13, 2021 by Carlton Doudney

Rannoch moor at around 300 metres high and covers an area of around 50 square miles is one of the most beautiful areas of Scotland, you only have to witness how many people stop while crossing on the A82 to snap a photo.

I always like to take a familiar area and try to find a different view to what most would see and this small hill on the edge of the moor made for a perfect spot.

Covered in lots of small bodies of water Lochan na h-Achlaise and Loch Bà Are the main sights that most will see and are the key points from my little perch. Having visited many times before it was often too windy or it just wasn’t happening weather wise, this outing made up for all the misfires.

It was a short but steep climb up the hill the going hard as there was no path to speak of and I was soon coming to boiling point, getting a brew on as soon as I arrived was much needed. The camp location was spot on with just the right amount of breeze to keep the beasties away and the light show to follow that kept on giving was nothing short of spetacular.

One of the key advantages of having been here before was that I knew roughly where I wanted to shoot, I perused the areas according to time of day and the compositions that I wanted to shoot for sunset and sunrise.

A dinner of pasta bolognaise washed down with lashings of hot tea and it wasn’t long before the colours began to fill the sky.

Sunset was amazing and it was a busy affair with so many possibilities, it was literally breath taking even long after the sun had sunken behind the distant hills.

At 11p.m. it was time to bed down and get a couple of hours sleep, it had been a long day and a little shut eye was most welcome the glow on the horizon at this time of the year never completely giving way.

Oh well, I did say just a couple of hours sleep, at 1 a.m. I was up again, this time to shoot some more, too light this far north for any astro photography with stars, but something else is present in the night sky. Noctilucent clouds or night shining clouds are only visible during astronomical twilight in the summer months and are made up of ice crystals at an altitude of 76000 - to 85000 metres.

Noctilucent clouds never fail to impress but after 30 minutes it was time to hit the hay again, I would be up again at 4a.am. to catch sunrise. I lingered a bit longer to drink in the spectacle.

Up again and I wasn’t disappointed, a temperature inversion saw the whole of the moor and the surrounding area covered in a blanket of low cloud, what a beautiful sight.

Even after the sun had risen the low cloud refused to budge swirling in and around the hills, probably didn’t look so good for those down below.

Finally it was time to catch up on some sleep and crawl back into the comforting embrace of my sleeping bag, I slept for a good 4 hours at which point the sun was high in the sky. It was hot in the tent and I was starting to cook. The cloud had cleared as I emerged for breakfast and it was a beautiful day as I packed up and made my way back down. What an awesome little adventure it had been, can’t wait for the next…

At last, the mountains of Inverlael... / June 1, 2021 by Carlton Doudney

They say ‘It comes to those who wait’, I sure waited, for around 4 years for the right time. Whenever I had time the conditions looked poor so not worth making the trip there. But finally the time had come and there was a window of opportunity.

I arrived at the car park at Inverlael on a warm sunny day at around noon, heaved on the weighty pack for a three day trip and after checking the map set off, it was uphill from the start, nearly 15 kilometres. Ouch…

Luckily there was just enough of a breeze to keep things cool enough, the further in I got the steeper the hill became until a couple of soft snow fields, energy sapping, needed to be crossed. There would be more snow to negotiate later in the trip.

Finally making it to the spot I’d chosen for the first camp, a flat area between three of the mountains I wanted to climb, I discovered much snow was still around and the small bodies of water of which there many were still frozen and covered in snow. I found a small grassy rise that would make an ideal spot for the tent. It was windy up here and a chilly northly, it was time to throw on some warm layers.

It was flat but the ground rocky with a light covering of soil and grass, the pegs didn’t go in far and were difficult to place, ha, some bad words may have been muttered. Luckily there were some large rocks to weigh down the pegs. I made it to the lip of the hanging corrie battling the now icy wind for a beautiful sunset, but with that wind I didn’t know at the time if any of the images would be sharp or blurry and ruined by the wind and camera movement.

The sun sinks at the end of day one taking its warmth with it

Over night the windy conditions abated with clear skies overhead and some illumination from the moon, a hard frost would form on the tent flysheet overnight.

It would be a 3am rise to be on the summit of Cona ‘Mheall for sunrise and it would be a close run thing. The upper half of the mountain was a bouldery affair and covered in frost to make the going a little more challenging not to mention those that tipped and rocked. But once there I was treated to a fabulous sunrise that slowly illuminated all the mountains around.

Earth shadow giving way to a pink glow and keeping back from the corniced edge

Alpenglow on Beinn Dearg, my next destination

I headed back on down and on to my next target, the mountain of Beinn Dearg which would set a new set of challenges. Not expecting much snow I’d not brought crampons not wanting to carry the extra weight if not needed. Hmm, the ascent was steep with a number of snow fields mostly firm but with careful maneuvering negotiable, but it was slow going. Summit number 2 was reached in glorious sunshine with views to the Fannich mountain range.

The descent would be equally slow going and I was glad to make it back to the tent for lunch and a little siesta in the warm sun. There was no time to dally too long though, I had to pack up and head up to summit number 3.

Hard going lugging all the gear up having already completed two summits and carrying 3.5 litres of water as there would be none for such a high camp. To make it harder a number of now soft snow fields had to be crossed as well and often there were hollows under the snow to catch me out, my leg often going through up to the knee. It sure got irritating after a while and I was glad to make it to the stony summit. I carried on for another 200 metres or so to find a spot to camp.

Back for lunch, Beinn Dearg in the background

Camp 2 just off the summit of Meal nan Ceapraichean

Another early start though the sunrise wasn’t so spectacular and it was time to pack up again and move on to the next summit. It didn’t look far on the map but seemed a long way on the ground. I dropped the pack behind some rocks and ascended to summit number 4 with only with my camera bag. I didn’t linger and was soon back down, hefting the heavy pack and heading out.

It was a long twisty path back out to the main path I’d walked in on and it was good to get back on to something a little straighter. The walk out seemed longer than the walk in but the aches and pains were soothed with the knowledge that I’d climbed 4 more mountains that had made me wait a year or two. It had been worth the wait for such fantastic conditions. It dose come to those who wait…

Coming soon, 4 year wait for the right conditions, 3 day Inverlael adventure... :) / May 25, 2021 by Carlton Doudney

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…