You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September 2010.
I like Cat Bells.
If you’ve only ever been up it during the middle of the day then you may be surprised by this statement, knowing as you do my liking for a bit of solitude. It can be like a school playground up there at times in the middle of summer. But as ever with the Lake District, if you’re up early enough you can still get it to yourself.
Inevitably after time locations become indelibly tied in my mind to the photographs I take of them, and I’ve had several lovely shoots on Cat Bells. The view overlooking the Newlands Valley and surrounding fells is tremendous; and I’ve had success both in the glorious golden light of a summer dawn, and in an aching pink dusk up to my knees in snow with the wind tearing my face off.
I headed up there again at the weekend, this time in the company of another photographer who was after some Lake District locations to shoot. The mornings are beginning to get later already, with sunrise now not until almost 7am, so a leisurely 6am start was planned, in readiness to catch first light clipping the summits of the Derwent Fells on the other side of the Newlands Valley.
There was a stiff cold breeze on the top. I persisted with my shorts and trekking sandals combo, but it could be the last time this year. Gloves were required 
Morning sunlight on Cat Bells
As you can see there was some nice early morning light catching the summits, and we hung around for a good hour and a half. until the skies began to cloud over and the best of the light had obviously gone.
Some cloud is always good though, I don’t think I’ve taken a shot I like that doesn’t have any, and it began to create some nice shadows. Here’s one of Robinson rising above the Newlands Valley.
Robinson and the Newlands Valley
It all still looks distinctly green and summery, but lots of the leaves are beginning to turn, and I can’t wait for all the browns yellows and burnt oranges to appear. And of course, lots of white stuff to follow
So, where were we?
It’s been a while since focussed essay writing at uni and I think I’ve lost all grasp of cohesion and structure. Maybe the writing will come together if I keep practising. Look I’m drifting off topic already.
Top of St Sunday Crag. Next thing I was aiming for was more Helvellyn, but this time closer. I’d been after some shots of Striding Edge at dawn for aaaages but every time I’d planned to go the forecast was for brighter in the west of the Lake District rather than the east. There’s often an east/west divide in the weather here. I decided to head home first to process some of the stuff I’d just shot and then come back for Striding Edge the next day. Forecast was still for clear skies, but even colder and wilder…
So next day I basically repeated the walk from the day before, up past Grisedale Tarn to the summit of St Sunday Crag, but then continued down to Patterdale. It was a wild old afternoon, cloudy, very windy and very cold for August (windchill was forecast to be about -5c), but all forecasts seemed to concur that it would brighten up later. I arrived in Patterdale late in the afternoon, with the idea of having a meal at the pub saving on weight to be lugged up the hill.
After dining I then headed up the path up the side of Birkhouse Moor, intending to camp somewhere near the Hole in the Wall, or as close to the start of Striding Edge as I could find a sheltered place to pitch. It certainly wasn’t going to be a calm evening so I’d need some kind of shelter.
As I wandered up, beginning to climb above the Grisedale Valley I got sidetracked a bit as there were some photos to be had with some nice summer evening sunlight falling on St Sunday Crag.
Grisedale Valley and St Sunday Crag
When I eventually made it up to the Hole in the Wall it was clear I was going to need the shelter, so used the lee side of the wall itself to camp behind. Even then it was still pretty blustery, with the wind screaming through the gaps in the dry stone wall. I could tell it was going to be another cold one too. Happily a cheeky mini bottle of red would keep me warm while I hunkered down in the sleeping bag to read for a bit I camped just down by the right hand side of the wall in the shot below.
The Wall, and last of the evening sunlight on Birkhouse Moor
It wasn’t the best night’s sleep I’ve had, and I love sleeping in my sleeping bag. Not sure about temperatures, but probably around freezing with the wind making it feel colder. I know they had some August snow in Scotland that night anyway!
The day dawned clear again, although the sun was rising behind a bank of cloud above the Pennines which took some of the intensity away from the light. This was almost enough of an excuse to make me stay in the sleeping bag, but to be honest I was getting colder rather than warmer so forced myself out. No better way to warm up than get the legs moving.
For those not familiar with the area, it’s only a shortish climb from here to the summit of High Spying How, effectively the start of Striding Edge. Most of you won’t know, but I actually suffer from vertigo, so this was going to be a test for me, particularly in high winds. I never had any intention of traversing the full length of the ridge, I just needed to coerce the shaky legs out those few steps along the exposed ridge in order to get the shot I was after. I wanted a figure in it for scale, and even Striding Edge is deserted at 6.30am so that figure would have to be me.
(On this subject, I do seem to be improving slightly with increased exposure. I also find it easier when I’m wearing my lightweight trekking sandals rather than the heavy clunky walking boots. More sprightly on my feet. Anyway, I’ll do a wee post on this subject at some point.)
I scrambled up and around the side of High Spying How, which is effectively a rocky outcrop rising above the ridge. Happily it provided something to lean my back against before taking those few tentative steps out. The cross winds were strong, making things slightly more difficult than they needed to be, but despite some shakiness in the jelly legs I wasn’t as bad as I could have been. The main worry was getting the tripod exactly level and sturdy because if this blew off the edge to the left, bye bye camera.
Length of self timer was going to have to be as short as possible. Enough time for me to get out into the shot, but not too long for the battering winds to have enough of a chance to whip my gear off the precipice. I went for 10 seconds and crossed fingers.
Happily the first shot worked well and I was pretty chuffed with myself. If it was calmer and warmer and generally more pleasant I may have hung around and tried a few more slightly different shots but I was desperate to get back into my sleeping bag. Hands were pretty numb even with gloves on. My photography nearly always demands physical exertion, but not always psychological. Hope you like it!
Striding Edge at dawn
I should probably be more spontaneous with my blogging, but to be honest after a jaunt up into the mountains the processing of photos takes over my time immediately, sometimes for a good week or so if I’ve been treated to good conditions.
In the last couple of weeks I’ve had two wild camps, one on St Sunday Crag and one on Helvellyn; one very pleasant evening watching the sun go down from the summit of Scafell Pike before pelting down to Wasdale Head in the dark (fantastic fun); one run up Scafell Pike and down to Great Langdale, and one ascent of Great Gable from Seathwaite and back.
So that’s where I’ve been blog readers.
I shan’t bore you with details from them all, but I think will settle for a short story and a couple of photos from each (except the last two – hazy murk, not really camera jaunts) and the details behind the shot. There you go, I didn’t even know what this post was going to be about when I started typing, now it has a structure and everything – spontaneity rocks
So a week last thursday the forecast was looking good for a few days, if maybe darn chilly at night, and I headed straight for the hills after work. The aim was to get somewhere pretty high pretty quickly as I wouldn’t have a great deal of time before sundown. I settled for St Sunday Crag, as I’d been after some new shots of Helvellyn at dawn for a while and the sun would be coming up in the right place for first light to play over the crags and ridges of the mountain and its neighbours Nethermost Pike and Dollywagon Pike.
By getting off the bus at the top of Dunmail Raise above Grasmere I could ascend via Grisedale Tarn and save a good bit of climbing with the heavy pack. There was some nice light on the flanks of Fairfield above Grisedale Tarn on the way up, so I hastily composed some shots and managed one stitched panorama which you can find in the new stuff gallery on the website.
It was fairly wild and windy around here and I pressed on thinking I might have to backtrack if it was too hairy on the exposed summit ridge of St Sunday Crag. The path gently weaves up the flank of St Sunday Crag, before taking an abrupt steep right turn for the last bit of the ascent to Deepdale Hause. Happily when I got there the wind had either dropped, or at my chosen site between the Hause and the summit of St Sunday I was slightly sheltered. Either way I could pitch easily enough on the soft grass just off the footpath with the tail of the tent to the prevailing wind. Already the light was going and it was getting cold so I grabbed a quick snack, cosied up and set the alarm ready for the dawn shoot.
Happily the skies dawned clear. Unhappily this meant it was bloody freezing. I’m not sure it should be below freezing in August, even early in the morning on top of a mountain in the Lake District, but this landscape photography lark is never easy. A quick jog up the last 100m or so to the summit of St Sunday Crag warmed me slightly.
Sunrise on St Sunday Crag
As I said the main reason I was up here was to get some shots of the Helvellyn range at dawn. I managed a range of stitched panoramas and still can’t decide which I like the best. Here’s one, more in the new stuff gallery.
Dollywagon and Nethermost Pikes and Helvellyn from St Sunday Crag
Oh and I managed one looking back over where I camped to Fairfield too:
Fairfield from St Sunday Crag
Okay so this isn’t turning out to be particularly brief is it! I’ll do the next day’s jaunt up Striding Edge as the next post. Soon, I promise…
