Q: Which way did you go?

A: Clockwise.

That’s the question, isn’t it?

And the answer is a variation of one way or the other.

Well, I decided that “clockwise” would suit my journey better, simply because that’s the way the sun goes (or seems to go!).

And another similarity: yes, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, occasionally browsing the map to imagine how it might go, and how long it would take.

I do actually have plenty of time, but with the level of commitment needed past the “point of no return”, I decided that it would be better during the months with more daylight.

And try as I might, I found very little advice or tips on social media.

So I concluded that maybe not many people had walked around the base of Suilven in one day……

I did get one piece of useful advice from Stuart at Glencanisp as I set off, and that was regarding which approach to take; local knowledge about getting across a burn with dry feet!

So I trudged up to the front of Caisteal Liath, unable to see much at all, as, incredibly, I had the sun in my eyes the whole way.

And I was sweating a bit; the sunscreen on my forehead running into my eyes.

I’d also used insect repellant on my lower legs (in case of ticks) and ibuprofen gel on my left heel (plantar fasciitis) before I left home. A walking pharmacy?
At my start point, I fired up my newest toy, an Ordnance Survey App on my phone, but the use of modern technology didn’t seem to make me feel any younger. Oh well, it was worth a try.

I did think of plotting where I took each photo, but it became apparent that the App was a bit slow for my liking, so I quickly decided to use it to just plot an approximate route.

I’ve stood on top of Suilven, and against the base a few times, and you can’t help but think that it is a fabulous structure; huge sandstone strata and slabs just going straight up. And some of it did go into the clouds too. Very impressive indeed.

At this point, I have to say that my “photographic technique” today was going to be basic. Very basic. Like “snaps”.

I knew I didn’t have time to mess about with lots of kit (let alone want to carry it), so I just had my Sony A7iii with a 16-35mm lens attached. Plenty of times I could’ve used a grey graduated filter to balance the very bright sky with the shadow of the north side, but instead, I opted to shoot at either a half or a quarter of the recommended exposure settings and deal with it at home. I needed to keep moving. This doesn’t help with composition much, as you can’t see it properly with these settings. But I didn’t care; this was about a journey, not photography.
I had been to my start-point twice before, once on a lovely warm, sunny day; and once in a blizzard whilst shooting for the footpath restoration commission five years ago. Those days couldn’t be more different to each other, but this was looking warm and sunny today.

I got going with the camera, and got going with the feet too. Initially the ground was a bit lumpy, due to the tussocky grass (Molinia), and then a bit rocky. Not too bad, but not quick either.

The first “quarter” was kind of familiar, because its the view that most people, including me, pass on the way to the main north side approach path, although I hadn’t seen it close-up before.

Walking east, I eventually saw another person in the distance; the first one since I left Glencanisp. I could see it was someone fishing and thought that they must have had a similar walk to myself, until I got closer and realised that they were just off the footpath that I was about to cross. The chances of seeing other people now dropped significantly as I started heading along the bottom of the “dragon’s tail”, and indeed, there were none.

Scenery here was still great, but I was still struggling to see it properly with the sun in my eyes.

Then I got to the pointy end, got a view across to Elphin, and decided it was a good place for lunch.

Half way then.

And the relatively short (hence easy to walk over) Molinia was starting to turn its distinctive autumn orange; a camera target if ever there was one!

My sandwich-view was now totally different; a slightly cloudy Cul Mor, and a crisp Stac Pollaidh in the distance, a view punctuated by many lochs.

Now I turned west, along the sunny side, although intermittent clouds meant that it wasn’t always sunny.

Easy walking this side.

I got half way along Suilven before I saw my next person; a hill-runner, or more accurately, a hill-almost-runner, on his way up the southern footpath.

A convenient rock provided a vantage point for a panorama of the whole mountain; about 8 shots that I would stitch together later. It would give a slightly distorted view, due to the vastly difference distance from camera to subject in each shot, but worth it none the less.

Closing in on my start/ finish point, I started to appreciate the feature marked on the map as “Pilkingtons Gully” for the first time.

And a bit of heather, yes I needed that one.

So I found a couple of pools and some more rocks to use as foreground interest in my final shots, packed my camera away and headed for home.

Almost back at the lodge, I caught up with four more people, to complete my tally of not many at all.

And I’ve got the sun in my eyes again. After a no-show of a summer up here, it was good to squint!

Eight hours on my feet; I had thought that it might be more.

There’s two hundred and something photos in the camera to sort through, but that’s going to have to wait for another day.

Q: Why did I do it?

A: Because I wanted to.

So here’s the pictures; they should appear in the order that they were taken:

It dawned on me that I often make monochrome versions of my waterfall photographs.

And then I realised just how many I have shot in Assynt alone.

It helps that I live there, so they’re my “local” falls; in fact one of them is only about a quarter of a mile away and I can see it out of the window of my house!
I never feel particularly bound by names or terminology, but it did seem obvious to assemble a collection and see what I’d got.

Quite a few apparently!

Although I can think of at least two people who I know will have visited more than me; maybe I’ll catch up one day.

Thinking about the concept, I realised that there was one glaring omission: Eas a’ Chual Aluinn, the highest waterfall in Britain. I had visited a couple of times, but only the top, and the view is very poor, almost non-existent from the top.

So after a period of rain to top up the water levels, I set off with Richard, Suse and Molly (the dog) to get some photos from the bottom. The forecast was dry that day, which didn’t really account for about three hours rain that we had to put up with whilst walking in. I should’ve realised there and then that it was an omen. But I didn’t.

Three of us plus the dog actually had a lovely day walking to the bottom of a tremendous, awe-inspiring waterfall, not realising that it wasn’t actually in Assynt at all. No. Its about half a mile (or less) the wrong side of the parish boundary. Hmmmm….

No regrets; we needed to visit, and it was fabulous.

It doesn’t look too difficult to get to the bottom of Eas a’ Chual Aluinn, navigating with a map, down a gentle slope to the south east of the falls. The total vertical drop is about 200 metres, so if you visit, be sure to find a nice gentle slope!

And the ground is very rough, so take your time.

The round trip for us was eight hours (including stops).

So there’s one school-boy error, and I think I ought to expand on another point before I trip over that too: “waterfall”.

The definition of a “waterfall” isn’t completely agreed. Apparently not.

And I’m going to ignore it anyway. Some of these photos probably count as “rapids” or “cascades”, or “something else entirely”, but I don’t particularly care.

It’s taken me at least five years to visit all these, but they’re certainly not the only reason for a walk with a camera; I wasn’t in a hurry.

Some of them are well know and regularly visited, being close to a road; and some of them require sandwiches, outdoor gear and the ability to navigate. And for those, it can take a whole day to make just one photograph.

Access is sometimes easy. Sometimes not: beware rough terrain, wet slippy rocks, wet slippy vegetation, and these may also be associated with steep or even precipitous drops. Just saying.

I have used a variety of equipment, cameras being Nikon D750, Nikon D5500, Sony A7iii and Sony Rx100Mk7. The first three have interchangeable lenses, and I would have chosen one for the walk that day. These lenses can take extra filters, so for the “smooth water” effect, I would have used a grey filter to reduce the light and create a “long exposure” (tripod necessary). Lots of cameras are capable of taking these photos, so the main thing necessary is deploying the feet to get there in the first place!

Clashnessie Falls

A northerly gale ripping water from the top of the falls and sending it back where it came from

An odd vortex of wind created this barrier of spray

Cold weather causing spray to freeze on the bushes

Even colder; almost frozen solid

Camera in a box to protect it from heavy rain, which is landing on the glass pane in front of the lens

Inverkirkaig (Kirkaig) Falls

Some icicles around the sides of these two shots

A particular heavy flow captured with a very long exposure

Wailing Widow Falls, probably could be called something like Eas na Loch na Gainmhich, Sandy Loch Falls

From the top, with a view across Sandy Loch to Glas Bheinn

Half way

Frozen; from the top

Frozen; from the bottom

Eas na Saighe Caime, near Inchnadamph

Eas na Saighe Caime, near Inchnadamph

Allt a’ Chalda Mor, near Inchnadamph

Allt a’ Chalda Mor, near Inchnadamph

Allt a’ Chalda Mor, near Inchnadamph

Abhainn na Clach Airigh

Allt an Tiaghaich

Allt nan Uamh, Bone Caves valley

Allt nan Uamh, Bone Caves valley

Quinag Estate (10 photographs)

Allt Sgiathaig

(North side, no name known)

(East side, no name known)

Allt na Bradhan

Allt a’ Bhathaich

Allt a’ Bhathaich

Allt a’ Ghamhna

Allt a’ Ghamhna

Allt na Saobhaidh Moire

Allt na Saobhaidh Moire

And finally, the imposter, Eas a’ Chual Aluinn; I couldn’t not include it now, could I?

A break in the weather; forecast clear until about 230pm.

We’ll take that; its as good as it gets at the moment.

Not wishing to waste too much time driving around, we head to Inverkirkaig for a walk up the river in the general direction of the waterfall.

There’s a few lochs and lochans up here with views of Suilven too, including Fionn Loch, the provisional picnic spot.

Picnic spots depend on sunshine and shelter from the wind, so never certain until at least two dozen suitable sites are tested!

Suilven doesn’t appear until quite a way along the route, so we don’t know exactly what the views might be today.

Three quarters of the way up to the falls, we head off the path, away from the river valley to find a series of lochans along the ridge.

I’m surprised to see very thin ice up there; I didn’t realise it was that cold, walking in my tee shirt now.

We passed three lochans of varying sizes before getting to Fionn Loch, each one giving us a different foreground for Suilven.

I’m shooting with my Sony A7iii today, fitted with the 24-105 lens (chosen because I already know that I’ll be using the middle to far end of the range with Suilven still a couple of miles away).

I do have a small tripod with me, which I actually didn’t get from a charity shop, despite the assertions of another photographer! 

But most of this I can do “handheld”, so not expecting to use it for a while.

The views are just great, and once again we’re reminding ourselves that we live nearby!

Getting to the larger expanse of Fionn Loch, the breeze picks up, so we’re going to need some shelter for lunch.

And there it is…. a nice little beach near to the anglers’ boats. Perfect.

Tracking a short distance across to the Kirkaig River, we turn back west.

The river is quite full today, so a quick diversion down to the main falls is obligatory.

I’ve got a new gadget to try out; its for springtime really, but I can’t wait for that.

It’s a deep red filter (Hoya R72), designed to just allow red and infra-red light through, so although my photos are going to look red,

they are destined to be converted to black and white.

The filter is so dark, that the exposure is 25 seconds (at F8 and iso 1600), so I finally use the tripod that I didn’t buy from a charity shop.

At the top of the bank, the weather doesn’t look so good anymore and we head about 2 miles back down the path.

It starts drizzling after about a mile, but it doesn’t really matter now.

“Drizzle” being a very important component of the lemon cake that we were given on the way home…..