So many tracks, which to follow?
Making Tracks in the Dales
Tag: Sony RX1r Mark ii
Discovering Muker – Composition
Yesterday’s beautiful day in Swaledale held the promise of a great evening’s photography, but as it approached closing time, and my chance to get out, the sky became overcast and the light flat. Nevertheless there was still chance to explore the countryside and search for interesting compositions so I pulled my boots on and headed out.
And then, after a quick pint at the Farmer’s Arms, the sky had cleared and overcast turned into gorgeous sunset.
Discovering Upper Swaledale – Muker to Keld
An early morning walk from Muker to Keld, and back via Angram, to judge the morning mood. The weather was overcast, and light flat, until I arrived back at Muker, at which point the sun decided to come out, and then stay out all day. Sods law.
Muker Monochrome – Year of Discovery
Our new life in Muker, Swaledale at the Old School, provides the opportunity to explore the countryside around, understand the light, read the weather, revisit scenes as the seasons pass, judge the moods, and develop a feel for the landscape with an intimacy I’ve never had the opportunity to do before. I’m sure it will take a year or two before I have a portfolio worthy of the landscape, but discovery is my favourite part of the process, and the process has begun.
Richard
New Life, Muker
Again it’s been quite some time since I troubled the blog with a new post, but since Nepal I’ve had no time to pick up a camera, let alone point it in the right direction, but there’s good reason …
… in that we’ve upped sticks, moved North, and bought an Art Gallery and Craftshop in the tiny village of Muker, Swaledale, and opened on Thursday 13th April.
It’s been a busy few months but the couple of snaps below might just provide a taste of why it’s worth the effort!
The gallery’s website is http://www.theoldschoolmuker.co.uk, and if you’re ever travelling in the area, feel free to drop by.
Everest Base Camp – From Blog to Book
It’s been nearly two months since I last troubled this blog. Life has been fairly hectic of late (which I’ll save for a future post), but one background project that has now, finally, reached completion has been to turn my EBC blog posts into a book; not a book “available to the public from all good retailers and bookshops” you understand, though that would be nice, but instead a personal, tangible, memento of the trip, that can sit proudly alongside my other books on photography on the shelf in the downstairs loo.
Given that the base material was already contained in the blog posts, it’s taken an inordinate amount of time and effort – rewriting and expanding the text, designing layouts, spell checking, selecting images, captioning images, lining up, etc. – and the proof reading has sent me goggle-eyed, but now its done, and ordered and being printed somewhere in the world I know not where, I’m quietly satisfied with the final product and, like a kid waiting for Christmas, can’t wait for it to be delivered.
For those interested I chose the Blurb website which uses the BookWright application to create the book. There are already many, many websites that list the pros and cons of book printing sites (which I used to choose Blurb) so I’m not going to cover that here, but once I got to grips with both the BookWright application and the Blurb website (and it did take a little time) the process became pretty straight forward and flexible. My biggest problem was proof reading (always my Achilles heal) and I’m still sporting errorrs know!
If you’re interested in seeing what the finished book looks like follow the link below and click on Preview. Be careful not to click on Add to Cart or you’ll become noticeably poorer!
http://www.blurb.co.uk/bookstore/invited/6875925/e9a021487fb5d2d7d3cbddc6354c688aadff6d2f
Some additional screen shots follow.
Happy reading 🙂
Richard
12 Images of 2016
Twelve favourite images from 2016; an unforgettable year of travel that took us to Norway’s Lofoten Islands, the Isle of Harris in Scotland, and the Himalaya of Nepal, but begins with two shots of my home county of Yorkshire, England.
In order taken … click on a the image to see the bigger picture …
1. Hole of Horcum, North York Moors, England. Shot in the winter on the drive home from Whitby, East to West across the North York Moors, and perhaps the only photo of the Hole of Horcum that doesn’t feature the Hole.
2. Saltburn Pier, North Yorkshire, England A flip of a coin decision somewhere in the Winter desolation of the North York Moors took us to Saltburn, and a perfect sunset as the tide receded. When your lucks in …
3. Utakleiv Beach, Lofoten Islands, Norway. A million photographers on the beach sent me stomping up the sand in search of solitude and a clear shot. All I found was a pile of lumpy old rocks!
4. Olstind, Lofoten, Norway. Leaving it as late as ever it became a race against the storm, wading through two foot deep snow to find a spot that pointed up the valley. We won by five minutes!
5. Pipework, The RERF, Leeds. An odd shot to throw in, but an image that perhaps only the Merrill with its extraordinary tonal range could take, and the culmination of a year long project to photograph the build.
6. Boat & House, Isle of Harris, Scotland. A mouldy old boat, a broken down croft and a dull, wet, miserable day; anywhere else awful, on the isle of Harris, wonderful.
7. The Gloaming, Isle of Harris, Scotland. The rooftops of Northton silhouetted against the bay, then out over the sea to the mountains of Harris. Not such a bad midnight view.
8. Soul Machine, Wakefield, England. Discovered in the middle of a farmyard machinery graveyard on a local walk, the truck has seen better days, but wears it’s scars with dignity and soul.
9. Himalayan Mountain Stream, Nepal. A rock, water and time, combine to create an example of nature’s perfection.
10. Himalaya Trail, Nepal. A line of Mani stones stretches along a tree-lined, sandy trail, overlooked by the sacred mountain of Kumbila shrouded by cloud ; a microcosm of everything I loved about Nepal.
11. Suspension Bridge, Nepal: A texture and detail of Nepal; the polished slats of a metal footbridge suspended 30 meters above the turbulent, mountain river, captured in Foveon detail by the Sigma DP3 Merrill.
12. Mountain Sunrise, Nepal. Not many things are worth climbing out of a nice, warm bed for, but this was one; truly a jewel on a crown.
Have a happy 2017.
Richard
EBC Trek, Nepal, Nov 2016 – Group Shots
For my fellow trekkers rather than the wider world, some shots of our party, John (Yorkshire), Charlie, Rob, Sarah, Cameron, Deborah, John (Aussie) and Reisa, plus our guide Dumbar and his assistant guides. Thanks for making it a fabulous trek!
Kathmandu – The Sights, Sounds & Smells
After 15 days trekking in the serenity of the Himalaya the sights, sounds and smells, of Kathmandu hit you like a brick. Diesel fumes fill the air, people fill the streets, and crossing a road is ten times as exciting as crossing a suspension bridge. And though the hotel staff tried to be dissuade me from exploring on foot, I loved it! The vibrancy of the place is tangible; workshops, garages, market stalls, shops, offices, all mingled together, stuffed with people, all working hard to make a living, all working hard to get by. Compared to the shopping malls, supermarkets and office blocks of the West, this is real life in the raw. The earthquake of 2015 which sadly cost Nepal nearly 9,000 lives is still in evidence especially around Durbar Square as you’ll see from a number of the images, but what remains is still spectacular and I would urge you to visit.
And within this vibrant city remain pockets of calm; the courtyard of Dwarika’s Hotel where we’re staying; inside the Old Royal Palace in Durbar Square; the Pashupatinath Temple, the oldest Hindu temple in Kathmandu; and there’s a passionate, religious, spirituality. People really do believe! And though religion is not my bag I envy their unshakeable and shared faith in the divine.
After two days in the city our trekking group is beginning to dissipate, John and Deborah to Australia, Reisa to Los Angeles, Cameron to Scotland, Sarah to London and John, Charlie, Rob and I, to Manchester, and from there to Yorkshire, and Dunbar to his home in Nepal. It’s strange to think that I’d not met one of them before and am unlikely to meet any of them again, and yet we’ve literally shared the ups and downs of what’s known as Nepalese Flat. I walk into arrivals at Manchester, bid farewell to the three Yorkshire friends, grab a coffee and wait for Polly to arrive and take me home. Something has clicked inside me and life will never again be the same.
Everest Base Camp, A Photo Diary – Descent
The final post of the diary covers our descent from Kalapatthar back down to Lukla, and from there to Kathmandu.
Wednesday 16th November, PM : Kalapatthar (5,545m) to Perchiche (4,280m)
No photos.
Thursday 17th November, Perchiche to Tashinga (3,450m)
Friday 18th November: Tashinga to Monjo (2,850m)
Saturday 19th November: Monjo to Lukla (2,804m)
Sunday 20th November: Lukla to Kathmandu
Diary Notes
Wednesday 16th November, PM : Kalapatthar (5,545m) to Perchiche (4,280m)
Day twelve (pm). Descending Kalapatther I start to lag behind, then a sudden energy surge and I descend quickly – almost running – to catch the rear of the group, then I totally blow up! I struggle in last to Gorak Shep for lunch. I feel completely shot with a five hour decent to Perchiche ahead. As we set off Charlie asks if I’m ok and our guide, Dunbar, takes one look and immediately takes my pack. Despite the help I can’t keep up the pace and drop back with Dunbar as the others go ahead. At the mid-point rest I, under instruction, continue down, but am soon caught, passed and again drop behind. Dunbar, concerned that I will delay the group reaching Perchiche before dark, finds a porter who agrees to take the group down. I’m relieved that I’ll no longer hold them up. We follow, with Dunbar constantly urging and encouraging me to walk faster. I try but immediately blow up and have to stop; if he’d had a rope he’d have tied it round me and pulled me along. Round a bend and the smoke that marks Perchiche comes into view. My heart sinks, it seems incredibly distant, the sun has long disappeared behind the mountains and its getting cold. We arrive in total darkness and I head straight to the bedroom and sit on the bed. Dunbar brings tea and a hot water bottle to warm me up. I sit there in a trancelike state, in my full outdoor gear, without the will or the energy to drink the tea or to climb into bed. Eventually I force myself. Today is my nadir.
Extract for Sarah’s daily blog.
“The afternoon we knew would be hard as it would involve a further five hours of walking to get down to Pheriche. What made it harder still is that one of the group [me] started suffering from altitude sickness at the top of Kala Patthar and so was walking very slowly and we were worried for him. It was another reminder of how hard life is here. There was no real option but for him to keep walking to get lower. Our guide suggested that the remaining five of us navigated ourselves down to avoid walking in the dark! So we did! The thought of having to come down the steep rocky slopes in the dark made me much braver and I came down them very quickly!”
Thursday 17th November, Perchiche (4,280m) to Tashinga (3,450m)
Day thirteen. In the morning, with the drop in altitude, I feel much better and eat some cornflakes. Though I have to walk like John Wayne due to chapped thighs I have no problem keeping up with the group. At lunch at Thyangboche I eat again. Back below the tree line, and with some food inside, if feels like someone flicked a switch and I’m suddenly myself again, rather than the pathetic sod of the previous few days. I even take some photos!
Extract for Sarah’s daily blog.
“We met up again with our Australian couple, the husband of which had suffered from severe altitude sickness. He looked so much better and it was lovely to see them. He had been seen by a local doctor who had said that he was, at that point, a 10 out of 12 on the severe altitude sickness grading. A ’12’ is an unconscious state and the doctor said that at that stage, some people do not make it. It was such a shock to hear that. We have seen so many people suffering from various illnesses that it brings it home just how hard the environment is here. I am inawe of those that go further up the mountains and what they must go through to achieve their ambitions”
Friday 18th November: Tashinga to Monjo (2,850m)
Day fourteen. Despite my chapped legs and other unmentionables a favourite day of the trip, starting with a wonderful sunrise over the mountains. At Namche, after a superb lunch of spring rolls, (all food now tastes delicious) we’ve an hour to ourselves and I head straight to (what looks like) a chemist to buy medicine and soothing cream; relief at last! We re-cross the suspension bridge over Dudh Koshi and when we rest by the river I balance the camera on my rucksack and take some long exposures shots.
Saturday 19th November: Monjo to Lukla (2,804m)
Day fifteen. It’s like the day after a bad hangover. I feel fantastic and full of beans and nothing hurts! I put the walking poles away so I can more easily use the camera and snap away, focusing on the everyday textures and sights of the trail, rather than the mountains, and I’m in my element. Some of us take a side trail instead of the main path. The scenery is magical and for excitement we get to cross a dilapidated bridge one at a time. The full group meets up further down the valley for lunch before the final push to Lukla. In the evening we distribute tips to the guides and Yak man along with giving away surplus equipment. This is the last we see of our two assistant guides who’ve looked after us so well. After dinner I take the camera out for one last chance to photograph the stars in the clear Himalaya air.
Sunday 20th November: Lukla to Kathmandu
Day sixteen. Up early, breakfast, and soon make the 50 yard trek across to Lukla airport. I watch the planes start to come in and fly out, no dramas. After an hour or so we get the call and head for the plane. The pilot guns the engines and we set off down the slope, rising into the air 20 yards before the end of the runway and the vertical drop to the valley floor. Another perfect flying day and I snap the foothills through the airplane window. An hour later and we’re driving through the craziness of Kathmandu to the hotel, a complete contrast to what’s gone before, trek done.
Everest Base Camp, A Photo Diary – Everest
Part 4 of the diary focusses on the final upward trek to Base Camp and to our ultimate high point of Kalapatther, at 5,545m.
Tuesday 15th November: Lobouche to Everest Base Camp (5,300m) then Gorak Shep (5,165m)
Wednesday 16th November: Kalapatthar (5,545m) then down to Perchiche (4,280m)
Diary Notes – Days 12 & 13
Tuesday 15th November: Lobouche to Everest Base Camp (5,300m) then Gorak Shep (5,165m)
Day eleven. I’ve no enthusiasm to take notes and have little recollection of the walk to Base Camp. I’d thoughts of wondering around the camp and down to the Khumbu Ice Fall, taking creative, cool photos, but physically and mentally I’m gone, and in this truly incredible place I can only take a few shots of the incredible scenery. Though I look surprisingly ok on the photos I can’t honestly recall the walk back to Gorak Shep, other than being last back, or anything about the evening. Everyone is feeling the altitude, but most are faring better!
Extract for Sarah’s daily blog.
“We tried to eat something but no-one felt like much so we set off for the next three hours which would take us to Base Camp. Our group had reduced to six. The Australian couple [John and Debora] had decided not to come at all today due to severe altitude sickness and so were heading down to a lower altitude today. One of the Yorkshire men [John] was so exhausted having got to Gorak Shep that he stayed there. It was a reminder of just how hard this is and sad that we all couldn’t achieve what we had set out to do”.
Wednesday 16th November: Kalapatthar (5,545m) then down to Perchiche (4,280m)
Day twelve (am). It’s -15c as we leave the teahouse at Gorak Shep. We cross the flat ground to the base of Kalapatthar and I strain my eyes to look for the summit. For the first time I seriously worry that I won’t have either the will or the energy to make it to the top. Each step of the climb is effort, every false peak a personal crisis, I can’t keep up with the (slow) pace and fall off the back of the group. An hour in and I decide it’s enough. Up ahead the group pause for breath. I reach them and ask Dunbar if we return down the same path (my plan is to stop and wait for the group to return). He answers yes but before I decide what to do the group press on. I have no choice but to follow. I reach the summit, the last of our group. I’m exhausted and find a place to sit. What a view! The magnificent vista of the Everest Massif, down the Khumbu Glacier, to Ama Dablam and beyond. I manage to take a series of shots to create a panoramic image and eventually summon the energy to clamber around. The word awesome is so often misused. This place truly is awesome. We take photos (I try to smile but it looks like a grimace) to prove our accomplishment then it’s time to head back down. Am I glad I didn’t stop, give up, turn back, absolutely, I may be spent but I made it to this unique and incredible place!
Shooting Notes
No insights or interesting takes, It’s just compose and shoot, trying to avoid people spoiling the view.
Everest Base Camp, A Photo Diary – Higher Ground
Part 3 of the Photo Diary covers days 9-11 as we leave the trees behind and climb above 4,000m, visit Ama Dablam Base Camp, reach the Khumbu Glacier, and trek to Lobouche, at 4,931m our jumping off for Everest Base Camp.
Saturday 12th November: Ama Dablam Base Camp (4,576m)
Sunday 13th November: Pangbouche to Dingboche (4,360m)
Monday 14th November: Dingboche to Lobouche (4,931m)
Diary Notes – Days 9 to 11
Saturday 12th November: Ama Dablam Base Camp (4,576m)
Day eight. A 6am start after no sleep, steep climb up to Ama Dablam Base Camp to push way past 4000m and for the first time leave the trees behind! Superb views of Lhotse and Everest though Everest is partially hidden. Arriving at Base Camp Dunbar spots climbers high up near the summit of Ama Dablam through binoculars. We all take turns but I can’t make them out. It’s my first day without a headache after Deborah, one of our party and a physiotherapist by training, prods at the back of my neck for literally 2 minutes. Unbelievable and I’m forever thankful. Return to Pangbouche at 3:30pm but again can’t get warm. Sit by the fire for 30 minutes, then shower, before back to the Observation Room (and warmth) before tea. Can’t eat.
Sunday 13th November: Pangbouche to Dingboche (4,360m)
Day nine. Made no diary notes, and very little recollection of the day, which indicates my state of mind. What I do recall is barren, but spectacular landscape, immense high mountains over the valley on our left, walking through boulder fields and yak grazing pastures, and it’s stunning. Unfortunately the camera is used less and less because the lack of sleep, food and cold, are having an impact. When we get to Dingboche I must feel ok as I take the camera out for a wander to see if there are any interesting shots to take. Evenings, nights and mornings, are now fading into one, as typically all I do is head for my bed and a hot water bottle. Ask me anything about the teahouse in Dingboche and I’d struggle to answer.
Monday 14th November: Dingboche to Lobouche (4,931m)
Day ten. An early and at this height very cold start. I walk in a daze. Thirty minutes in I see Rob sink to the ground; the cold has got to him! Dunbar feeds him hot water (we all carry hot water in our bottles now, cold water would freeze). Fifteen minutes later Rob is well enough to continue, though to his disgruntlement Dumbar (rightly) takes his rucksack. Yorkshire pride maybe bruised but in this place pride really does come before a fall In the early afternoon we reach the moraine of the Khumbu Glacier. It’s hard going and each step takes real effort, but I feel like we’ve reached a milestone; the glacier means that Everest, though still hidden, is close! At the top of the moraine we pass the memorials of mountaineers who have lost their lives on Everest; a place of real contemplation. After lunch we have the choice of staying at the teahouse or walking to a viewpoint overlooking the Khumbu Glacier. Four of the party opt to remain. I, despite being spent, out of sheer stubbornness* choose to go; a mistake. On returning I’m asked if it was worth it. My immediate and unequivocal answer is NO (though I’m in a minority of one), not because the view wasn’t stunning but because my batteries are totally depleted and I missed the opportunity to rest and recuperate. I’m not alone, John, the doctor in our party, is suffering from a chest infection and from the altitude, is in a bad way, and can go no further. Tomorrow he and Debora will head for lower ground after making it all this way.
* During the many miles of training for the trip, it was the thought of being fit enough to do the optional excursions that drove me on!
Shooting Notes
It was all point and click with the Sony, with the Sigma making a solitary appearance for a close up of Ama Dablam. I didn’t have the energy or enthusiasm for anything else!
Everest Base Camp, A Photo Diary – The Journey Continues
Part 2 of the photo diary of the Everest Base Camp, covering days 4-8 of the trek as we spend our time acclimatising below 4,000m.
Tuesday 8th November: Namche Bazaar to Mende (3,700m)
Wednesday 9th November: Mende to Thame (3,801m) and back
Thursday 10th November: Mende to Tashinga (3,450m)
Friday 11th November: Tashinga to Pangbouche (3,863m), via Thyangboche
Diary Notes – Days 4 to 8
Tuesday 8th November: Namche Bazaar to Mende (3,700m)
Day four. A favourite day as we walk through forest. I hang back from the group and despite being shadowed by the two assistant guides feel like I have the trail to myself. As we arrive in Mende the mountains are beautifully framed and lit. After dark I take the tripod out to shoot the stars. The moon is too bright to see the Milky Way, but there are thousands of stars peppering the sky. It’s cold, but what the heck. Physically I feel fine accept for that nagging headache. Dunbar doesn’t think the headache is altitude related, which is a relief, but the height is getting to me in other ways as I start to lose my appetite.
Wednesday 9th November: Mende to Thame (3,801m) and back
Day five. An acclimatisation day and a chance to become accustomed to the altitude before pushing past 4000m. The landscape becomes more barren as we climb to Thame, nearing the tree line, but the scenery remains stunning with Lhoste and Ama Dablam as the backdrop. We return to Mende as the sun is casting its last rays and I stay outside to capture the sunset. In retrospect staying out in the cold too long.
Thursday 10th November: Mende to Tashinga (3,450m)
Day six. No diary notes but from recollection and the photos. The scenery is wonderful and I capture a couple of my favourite images from the trip, but the six days of constant headache is gnawing away at my enjoyment and preventing me sleep at nights, I’ve developed a chest infection and altitude cough, and I can no longer eat*. Those things aside I’m physically fine with neither aching limbs nor sore feet! I decline the chance to pay 250 rupees (£2.50) to see the skull of a Yeti though I refuse to accept that they don’t exist!
* It’s difficult to describe the loss of appetite. It’s not just a lack of hunger, it’s that I can’t physically face the food, let lone eat it. I cut small slices in toast in two, then four, before I can stomach a small bite, and even that is tough to chew and impossible to swallow.
Friday 11th November: Tashinga to Pangbouche (3,863m), via Thyangboche
Day seven. Headache and chest infection makes this a fairly miserable day and I’m running low on painkillers. The camera stays largely unused. On arrival I can’t get warm so go straight to bed. It doesn’t help. Eventually I get up, find the gas stove in the Observation Room, watch the staff struggle to light it, and then try and warm up. Other members of the group arrive. They express worry, say I need to eat more and talk about the number of calories needed. If only it were that simple! It’s halfway through dinner before I feel something like. My appetite is totally gone now, it’s a push to eat a bean. No food, no fuel, it doesn’t bode well, and the cough and chest infection make it difficult to talk. I wake at 12 midnight and count the hours. No more sleep. Tomorrow will be fun!
Shooting Notes
Shooting stars in the cold, dark, Nepalese, night took preparation. The camera was set up – ISO, manual focus, shooting mode, live view, etc. – and attached to the tripod inside before heading out in down jacket, gloves and hat. It was difficult to focus on the stars, so the trick was to find another subject to focus on at “infinity” and lock this in. To change camera settings in the dark a torch with red beam proved invaluable. As for exposure it was just guess work. Unfortunately the moon was bright and robbed us of the chance to see and photograph the Milky Way, so the main tip I can give is to go to Nepal and the right time of the month!
Everest Base Camp, A Photo Diary – First Days
It’s a nearly two weeks since I landed in a cold, rainy Manchester, after three weeks trekking in Nepal, and it’s taken that time to get some photos and notes of the trip in order. The original intention was to set a limit of one photo per day and one post, but it proved too difficult and too limiting and so I threw that idea under a passing oliphant and instead decided to do the complete opposite and provide a comprehensive photo diary, complete with brief diary and shooting notes at the end. I’m sure there are many, many, EBC trekking posts that are more informative and better written, but hopefully the pictures go someway to redress the balance. More posts to follow over the coming days.
Day 1: Katmandu to Lukla, then onto Monjo (2,850m)
Day 2: Monjo Acclimatisation Day
Day 3: Monjo to Namche Bazaar (3,445m)
Diary Notes – Days 1 to 3
Saturday 5th November: Katmandu to Lukla, then onto Monjo (2,850m)
Day one. The alarm goes off early! There’s no lie in, and after the long flight from Manchester via Abu Dhabi I could really use one. Overdressed and overheated (an attempt to make the luggage weight of 15kg) we’re expertly guided through the chaos of Kathmandu airport check-in by our guide, Dumbar, and now sit in a mini-bus on the tarmac watching, our Twin Otter plane being checked, fuelled and loaded, with bright, red, Mountain Kingdom kit bags. The Twin Otter will take us to Lukla, 2,800m up into the Himalaya, and the start of our trek. The sky is blue, the weather calm, a perfect flying day. If you want a tip sit on the left to see the spectacular white wall of mountain peaks. We fly into Lukla without a hint of danger. And what a flight! What an incredible introduction to Nepal’s high country! The World’s high country. After a relaxing cuppa, a sorting of kit bags and lengthening of walking poles, we plunge into the sights, sounds and smells of the Himalaya. I’m lost in a state of awe.
Sunday 6th November: Monjo – Acclimatisation Day
Day two. Acclimatisation does not mean rest! It means an early start and a slow but strenuous hike straight up, then down, a near vertical Yak trail to gain, then lose, 600m of altitude. After lunch the afternoon is more relaxed as we take in Monjo, get our first view of the sacred, unclimbed, mountain of Khumbila, and, from the National Park checkpoint, the trail ahead. In the late afternoon I take a camera and tripod down to the stream we crossed at the foot of the village and lose myself in the moment. It takes five minutes to walk down the trail to find the stream and twenty minutes to walk back up! Even at 2,800m the effect of the thinner air is very real.
Monday 7th November: Monjo to Namche Bazaar (3,445m)
Day three. More incredible scenery as we first follow the river, then climb up and over suspension bridges, heading toward the market town of Namche Bazaar. On the way we catch our first glimpse of our ultimate destination, Everest. In the afternoon, to gain more metres, we climb to the Sagarmatha National Park Visitor Centre. From there we have distant views of Everest and Lhotse but I find myself more enthralled by the mass of rock close by, Thamserku. In the evening I head out with the tripod to take street shots of Namche at night, and as I wander I stumble on a view of the town dominated by Thamserku behind. At 3,445m I’m starting to feel the altitude. I’ve yet to shake off the nagging headache I’ve had since I arrived in Nepal, and combined with my first bout of the craps I’m not feeling my best.
Shooting Notes
With a weight limit of 15kg I limited myself to two cameras, the Sony RX1rII and, for those shots that needed some extra reach, the Sigma DP3 Merrill, the latter of which I hope will also provide some unique Foveon images. Incredible really that with the former currently costing ten times more than the latter I’ve absolute faith in the Merrill. The Sony’s 35mm lens means it’s out most of the time, but in the bright conditions the Sigma is in its element. When walking there was no real chance to use the tripod, we didn’t stop in a place long enough, so the majority of shots are handheld unless stated. All Merrill shots are at ISO100.
Textures & Colours of Nepal
From the serenity of high mountain trails, to the shock and vibrancy of Katmandu, an assortment of textures and colours that instantly send me back to Nepal.
Shooting Notes
A complication of Sony RX1rII and Sigma DP3 Merrill shots, post processed in Lightroom.
A prize for whoever can guess which shots come from which camera 🙂
Illuminating York 2016 – Sony RX1rII
Another great chance to take the camera out on an Autumn evening in the city, this time in the historical city of York. No tripod meant high ISO’s, wide open apertures, and some post processing in Lighroom.
Autumn in Nidderdale – Postscript
We found it! At the third attempt, Guisecliff Tarn, at about 4:20pm as the sun was starting to set, and without a tripod.
So iso800 at f4 for 1/60 sec, and a touch of camera shake, before a stroll back down the hill to the car and home, but already with plans to return next year.
Mount Everest Base Camp Trek – Prologue
In just over a week, I board a plane from Manchester to Nepal to realise the dream of seeing Everest.
I can’t recall when it started, this fascination with Everest. Perhaps it’s memories of Chris Bonnington led expeditions in the 70’s, when news reports on Everest were characterised by adventure, courage and national pride, rather than commercialisation and death statistics. Perhaps it’s childhood conversations with my two uncles, both climbers, both of whom must have been inspired by that golden age of climbing. Whatever the reason it was buried deep in my psyche, a constant background presence, a subconscious interest occasionally brought to the surface by a news report, or a television documentary, or a browse in the travel section of a book shop.
Around ten summers ago it once again surfaced, but this time it didn’t want to go away; a real desire to walk in the Himalaya and see Everest with my own eyes, rather than through a documentary film makers camera, the urge to go while I still had the legs.
Every year since I promised myself I’d make the journey, every year there was a compelling reason that blocked my way, until this year, my 50th year, when I finally ran out of excuses and literally shaking with excitement phoned to book the trip.
So tonight I find myself packing flat pack toilet paper and a small trowel in case I get caught short on the trail, a few days away from setting foot on a place higher than I’ve ever been before, and then slowly by surely as my body acclimatises, heading in the direction of up, to finally discover this epic mass of rock, the highest point on Earth, this place of legends, for myself. All the time remembering that what’s a real adventure for me has been trodden by many thousands of feet before, and is simply the starting point for those who actually go on to attempt the mountain itself.
Of course I’ll be taking a couple of cameras with me to record the trip. The Sony RX1rII, so light and small, you hardly know you’re carrying it, and yet produces images of amazing resolution and quality, and the Sigma DP3 Merrill, which I fully expect to reproduce in epic detail the majesty of the mountains in a way that only a Foveon camera can. I’ve wrestled with buying some sort of travel zoom, but in the end decided to stick with what I have, and what I trust to do the job.
So that’s in for now. With the toilet paper and trowel packed I need to check over the camera gear, order a few last items for the trip, and then head to bed, perchance to dream of the Mountain.
Footnote
When proof reading this blog post I found the section below, written by Polly while I slept. She’s a real talent for words and tbh it’s the best bit of the blog!
The sheer magnitude of my achievement will make my bowels turn to liquid and spew and spray from my tight black boxers, but i won’t care because i know Polly is proud of me, and I will be careful and come home safely. I will leave my crusty underwear on the wind swept slopes as a gift to the gods, should I ever wander this way again I may see wisps of cotton ( black with brown splatters ) caught in the thorny bushes of Nepal.
Autumn in Nidderdale 3
The third and final image from Sunday’s walk; the shimmering reflection of Autumn colours in the pond set perfectly in the aptly named Fishpond Wood.
We’d set off with the intention of visiting Guisecliff Tarn, in Guisecliff Woods, a second attempt after failing to find it exactly one year ago. Back then we took too long wandering along the river Nidd, captured by the stunning colours (below). This time Skrike’s Wood and Fishpond Wood, blocked our path.
Next week we’ll make a 3rd attempt!
Autumn in Nidderdale 2
Sunday’s journey to Nidderdale in the Yorkshire Dales proved to be rich pickings on the photography front with the second Autumn panoramic view, this time of Skrikes Wood.
In the past I’ve struggled with woodland scenes, which is slightly annoying given that they’re perhaps my favourite landscape, but on this occasion, concentrating on the hillock covered in the red Autumn fall and the composition of the tree trunks (rather than trying fit everything in) I came away reasonably content that I’d captured the feeling I had when I first looked through the opening in the dry stone wall. Printed big I think it could prove quite effective.
Shooting Notes
3 stitched images taken with the Sony RX1rII at f22 for big depth of field, at iso100, on a tripod, post processed in Lightroom and Elements.
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