Mountain forecast said strong winds on the tops; 50mph this afternoon, so we decided to stay in the shelter of the Bone Caves valley.

Except, it became obvious very quickly that there was hardly a breeze as we drove over.

So the plan got adjusted slightly, and we left the car park and headed up a hill called Beinn nan Cnaimhseag (570m ish) to the north of the valley itself.

And until we approached, maybe, 450m, there really wasn’t much wind at all. Good call.

The view of the Bone Caves themselves is rather good from here, and puts them in context with the surrounding landscape.

Amongst lots of other bones found here, giving the caves their name, there were the remains of three bears, all separated by lots of years.

Including the only Polar Bear found in Scotland.

Pretty amazing.

But just look at the landscape!

It takes you right back; it looks primeval. And it feels it too.

After the cairn on our only peak today, we dropped back down to the burn, to a waterfall that I’ve never seen before, and had lunch.

Its not marked on the map, and we wondered why. 

Possibly because its not as vertical as it appeared; maybe about 45 degrees. (Angle, not centigrade)

Tracking down the watercourse, we came to a familiar fall next, with interesting limestone buttresses in the rock alongside.

I know that there’s a fall at the car park too, so its a “3 fall day” for me.

Almost there, and there’s a large pool with clear, freezing cold water just erupting from the ground in enormous quantities.

We speculate where it might have come from: further up the limestone valley is the obvious answer, but other explanations might be available.

Back at the van, our walk through ancient history was over.

No bears today.

I do have a “film camera” in the loft somewhere; a Canon A1, I think.

No idea why I’ve still got it, and I’m not a “Canon user” anyway.

I gave up using film not long after getting a Nikon D70s, ooooh, no idea how long ago, to be honest.

But, a bit like digital music vs. vinyl, film hasn’t actually gone away. Some people never left it.

So, a strange thing occurred:

My first ever SLR camera was a Zenit-B that I bought secondhand from my biology teacher at school in 1979. A couple of years later, he gave me the chance to upgrade to a Zenit TTL, and had the antiquated Zenit B back in part exchange. This was a huge leap forward; a much better camera, and it actually had a light meter inside it.

As unusual as it may be, I’ve always remained friends with this fella, as a kid and then as an adult (me, not him!).

Last year, he asked me if I’d like my camera back!

The original Zenit B? Yes please!

So about 41 years after I last used it, I got it back; and it was exactly how I last saw it. I think.

Obviously I was going to try it; it just had to be done.

After all, I still have the entire set of prints from the first film that I shot with it in 1979, so a bit of nostalgia wouldn’t go amiss.

Kodak Ektar 100, 36 frames, eighteen quid. Hmm.

Apparently, its the “world’s finest grain”; it says so on the box.

Loaded.

I’m having to use another small camera as a light meter to calibrate each exposure, and then after a few days, I realised that I’d actually forgotten what I’d taken. And you can’t review these!

About 3 months later, the film’s finished, so I need to get it processed.

I could’ve had a cheaper service, but decided to get a set of small prints plus scans.

Twenty five quid.

Plus postage four quid (because its too fat for the gauge!)

Yes, you may be adding this up too; total £47.

For 36 photos.

They better be good; at least a few of them!

Today, the scans arrived electronically; I guess the prints and negatives will arrive soon.

I am actually surprised that I got the exposure right, all the way through really. So the old Zenit must be firing the shutter accurately still.

But the image quality is, quite frankly, absolutely dire.

I don’t know whether this is inferior 1970’s Soviet glass, or whether some of the problem lays with the film and processing.

Either way; my curiosity is satisfied, and I won’t be spending another £47 anytime soon.

I’m really pleased that I did this; it was a real novelty, but, boy, have things changed!

Anyhow; check this out:

1979 Selfie vs. 2022 Selfie

Same me; same camera

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: