The Art of Landscape Photography: Tales of Suffering
The struggle is real, especially when stalking that perfect mountain-top shot
Someone once told me that 80% of the success is just showing up. This rings particularly true in landscape photography, although showing up might just be one of the hardest part of the journey. Miles upon miles walked, climbed, waited and suffered amount to being in the right place, at the right time. Then you still need to come back in one piece.
I want to take you on a few journeys with me. Come.
It was a sunny day in South England, probably around 20C, light breeze. It was the beginning of June and I decided that it’s a great time to come visit Scotland, since the atmospheric pressure was due to rise in a few days, bringing some excellent mountain conditions with it. I packed the night before, set off early to avoid traffic and some 10 hours later I arrived in Glencoe. Driving rain, 60mph wind at the campsite and crap visibility. Welcome to Scotland.
I woke up in the morning hoping for better conditions, but apart from some frost on the ground and frozen tarns, not much changed that morning. It was one of those mornings, where you regret you haven’t kept your down jacket in your sleeping bag. Learn from your mistakes.
I spent most of the day avoiding rain by any means possible, which included eating cake and drinking coffee in Glencoe Cafe (aye, that’s suffering for ya!). Things looked like they’re about to clear later in the day, so I decided to start an ascent before 5pm. It’s not usually advised to go that late into the mountains, but if you’re going to hunt for images, safety isn’t always your primary concern.
I started to work my way up the path towards Buachaille Etive Mòr, very much loved by both walkers and climbers because of the excellent views it offers once atop one of the Munros. Sadly, the closer I got to the ridge, the worst the weather had become. Very near the top, I saw some walkers struggling to get past some old snow that was still there from the harsh winter the Highlands saw this year. It was time to strike up a conversation.
“How’s it looking up there?,” I asked. “Much snow past this point?”
“Nah, just this bit, once you get past it, it’s alright,” replied the walker.
“Are you guys coming back from a trek, or?”
“Actually got lost in the fog earlier, so we changed route. This is our way back. Are you only going up?”
“Yeah, I’m a photographer, so I’m hunting for the right conditions. I hope to get a break in the weather.”
“Well good luck, we’ll be at the pub!”
Having seen the guys struggle over the old snow, I decided to negotiate some harder climbing terrain, which was free of snow, putting rock climbing skills into good use. It allowed me to clear all of the snow and I was shortly on the plateau. The only problem was, that I couldn’t see any of the peaks, the rain came in.
Now for those reading who have never stood in a rain cloud before — the concept of rain coming from the sky no longer applies, particularly in Scotland. It appears to simultaneously rain from all sides and in stronger gusts also upside down. This is the point, where GoreTex doesn’t always work as good as advertised, since water gets in through every single opening in your clothing.
It was around 6pm, the weather didn’t clear for another hour and a half forcing me to stand there enduring the onslaught. By the time the rain and wind decided to subside, I was wet, cold, my fingers were considerably numb and my GoreTex jacket appeared to be wet inside out, probably from the mixture of water that got in and sweat it took to navigate all the obstacles.
“In a rain cloud […] the concept of rain coming from the sky no longer applies, particularly in Scotland. It appears to simultaneously rain from all sides and in stronger gusts also upside down.”
I quickly ran to over some easy scrambling terrain, since another path was still under old snow, and secured a vantage point I would be attempting to get some images from. Considering how wet I was and the fact that only this morning there was ice on the mountain lakes, it wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience waiting for the right light conditions. Even my insulation jacket I kept inside a dry bag couldn’t stop me from shaking, so I had to continue moving to keep myself warm. I got my shot. Time to run back.
The descent wasn’t easy, as it was getting dark and the terrain was extremely wet and boggy after a whole week of torrential rains and the earlier spell that got me soaked. I’m also sure I made some navigational error, as I faced a few down climbs and ended up on the wrong side of a waterfall (actually I almost ended up in it, after accidentally sliding about 7 meters over a very slippy slab). I was really happy to eventually find a path, despite now being covered in considerable amount of mud and much other dirt I picked up on the descent.
Having got back to the car just before midnight, it was time to do it all over again. I was here for over 10 days. On the upside, I had some good weather to look forward to for the coming days.
Przemek Czaicki is a Polish photographer with a British sense of humour. Follow him on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and 500px.
