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:
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?