Wildlife Photography & Backpacking

Red deer stag. Sony NEX 7 with 16-50mm E lens, 1/125 @ f8, ISO 400. Cropped.

Encountering wildlife is one of the joys of backpacking and hiking. Often all we catch are glimpses – an eagle high in the sky, an otter slipping into the water, an owl skimming past the tent – but sometimes there are longer, clearer views – a herd of deer grazing on a hillside, a heron fishing, a snow bunting hopping round a summit in hope of crumbs from your lunch. Over the years I’ve seen all these, some many times, and many more creatures including bears, wolves, moose and bison on walks outside the UK. 

Bison in Yellowstone National Park. Canon EOS 350D with 80-200mm lens. 1/500 @ f8. ISO 200.

 

Whilst seeing wildlife is an integral part of backpacking it’s not easy to take successful photographs of animals and birds. Wildlife photography requires patience and staying in one place for long periods watching and waiting. Big heavy telephoto lenses and specialist equipment like hides and remote camera triggers are standard equipment. Backpackers only stay in one place for long overnight and don’t carry the big lenses or other equipment unless wildlife photography is the main aim of the trip.

 

The full picture from which the one at the head of this piece was cropped.

Now I’m not a wildlife photographer. But I do take wildlife photos when the opportunity arises and over the years I’ve learnt various ways to improve the quality of these that may be of use or at least of interest to others. These photos are all opportunistic in that I didn’t set out to find the animals and birds nor did I spend time stalking them. Indeed, I think it best not to approach or scare creatures. Many have a harsh enough life anyway. If I can’t take a decent photo from a distance then I don’t bother. That said, as I’ll show below, a photo that doesn’t appear that good as the subject is rather small can often be cropped with surprisingly good results. Also, showing an animal in its habitat rather than as a close-up is often interesting.

Heron in the River Annan. Canon EOS 450D with EF-S 55-250mm lens. 1/1000 @ f5.6. ISO 800

 

I think the best cameras for backpackers are lightweight ones with sensors smaller than full frame, which is a sensor the same size as a frame of 35mm film. The cameras I use have the next size below full frame, known as APS-C. These cameras also have a great advantage for wildlife photography because telephoto lenses can be much lighter for the same equivalent focal length than full frame ones due to what’s known as the crop factor, which means that less of the image is recorded on the sensor so it appears larger. (A good explanation of this can be found here). Now the focal length of a lens doesn’t change when it’s used on different cameras. However as full frame is often regarded as the norm (because 35mm film really was) the focal length is often given as the 35mm equivalent. Thus my Sony E 55-210mm lens when used on my APS-C sensor cameras is equivalent to an 82.5-315mm lens on a full frame camera. There are similar lightweight telephoto zoom lenses for other APS-C cameras. 

Pheasant in the snow. Sony NEX 6 with 55-210mm lens. 1/320 @ f8. ISO 800.

 

 An alternative I haven’t used could be a ‘bridge’ camera, which is a camera with a smaller sensor than APS-C and a fixed zoom lens with a huge range, up to 2000mm equivalent. The ones with the biggest range are quite heavy but you don’t need to carry different lenses.

The 55-210 weighs 379 grams, which is light enough to carry on most trips. On walks where I’ll be carrying many days food or water I don’t take it though and just use my 16-50mm (24-75 35mm equivalent), knowing I won’t get some shots and may have to crop some drastically.

Sony NEX 7 with 55-210mm E lens & 1.7x tele conversion lens.

 

Recently I’ve bought a Sony 1.7x tele conversion lens (second-hand as it’s a discontinued model) which turns the long end of my 55-210mm lens into a 535.5mm 35mm equivalent telephoto lens. Although not designed for the 55-210 the tele conversion lens fits fine with a step-ring. Once in place I then use the lens as normal. It weighs 243 grams with the required step-up ring though so I probably won’t take it on more than overnight trips. From the shots I’ve taken so far the image quality looks about the same as crops from 210mm images but it has advantages for composition and focusing. 

Sparrowhawk. Sony NEX 7 with 55-210mm lens & 1.7x tele conversion lens. 1/640 @ f6.3. ISO 400.

 

Wildlife photographers generally use heavy tripods to support their big lenses. The few backpackers who carry tripods, like me, use small lightweight ones. These will just support lightweight tele lenses like my 55-210mm. Most wildlife encounters take place whilst walking anyway and don’t allow time for setting up a tripod. There’s usually no time for getting camera gear out of the pack either. Having it to hand can make a difference between getting or missing a picture. Except in heavy rain I have my camera gear in accessible pouches slung across my body or in stretchy pack side pockets. If you use trekking poles there are various camera attachments that clip onto the handles that can make a difference, as shown in my picture of the bison. In camp shelters make good hides and I often have my camera on a tripod in the doorway.

Practising wildlife (and other photography) is always wise. I try out new lenses photographing wildlife in my garden, usually on the feeders. Red squirrels make subjects. They're rarely still for long and they're very entertaining! I can watch them for hours with the pretense that I'm practising photography.

Red squirrel. Sony NEX 7. 1/400 @ f6.3. ISO 400

Here are some more full size photos and crops with technical information. All were shot as raw files and processed in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom. They were taken over quite a few years, hence the change from Canon to Sony cameras. All the cameras are APS-C. To find the 35mm equivalent focal length the Canon lens focal lengths should be multiplied by 1.6, the Sony by 1.5.

Mallard, River Spey. Sony NEX 7 with 55-210mm lens. 1/250 @ f8.ISO 100

Crop from above

Great spotted woodpecker feeding young. Sony NEX 7 with 55-210mm lens. 1/320 @ f7.1. ISO 400

Crop from above

Red deer stag. Canon EOS 450D with 55-250mm lens. 1/320 @ f5.6. ISO 400.

Crop from above

Ptarmigan in winter plumage. Canon EOS 350D with 18-55mm lens. 1/250 @ f8. ISO 100.

Cairngorm reindeer. Semi-domesticated these reindeer are relatively tame and quite easy to photograph. Canon EOS 450D with 18-55mm lens. 1/30 @ f5.6. ISO 400.

Cairngorm reindeer. Sony NEX 7 with Sony E 30mm lens. 1/160 @ f8. ISO 100.

Fire salamander. Sony a6000 with 16-50mm lens. 1/50 @ f5.6. ISO 800

Book Review: The Top 500 Summits

The Top 500 Summits: A Lifetime Of Hillwalking

by Barry K. Smith

Where2Walk Publishing, £25

Hill lists abound these days and here’s another. This one is of more interest than most however as it covers the highest 500 mountains in the British Isles with a drop of at least 500 feet on all sides. Hence the top 500. This book isn’t just a dry list of names or a guidebook either. It covers all 500 summits and there is a list of them all at the back (with metric heights) but the main body of the book consists of photographs and accounts from the author’s ascents of each peak. Routes are briefly described and there’s a personal view on each hill or group of hills with opinions and stories from days out. The book is well laid out and excellent for browsing.

The bulk of the summits are in Scotland of course with Ireland, Wales and England only having 70 between them. The 500 foot drop criteria means that all the Corbetts are included but not all the Munros, which throws up some interesting results. Looking at the hills I know best- the Cairngorms – I see that Mullach Clach a’Bhlair isn’t included even though it’s a long way from the nearest higher peak, Sgor Gaoith, while the circuit of peaks around Loch Avon includes Creag Mhor but not Cairn Gorm. I’m sure readers will find other curious results. I also noted that the author keeps the English names of two Cairngorm Munros (neither in the 500) rather than the Gaelic now commonly used and found on the latest maps. So if you’re confused Angel’s Peak is Sgor an Lochain Uaine and the Devil’s Point is Bod an Deamhain.

I didn’t know what to make of this book at first. It’s not a guidebook but it’s not a trip account either. It’s a bit of both. However once I started dipping into it I kept finding interesting snippets and stories as well as some inspiring photos. I think most hillwalkers will find it of interest whether peak baggers or not.

This review first appeared in the September 2017 edition of The Great Outdoors.

Twenty-five Years Ago On My Scandinavian Mountains Walk

Camp by Lakavatnet in Blafjella-Skjaekerfjella National Park

On this day in 1992 I was having a rest day at Abisko at the northern end of the Kungsleden on my Scandinavian Mountain Walk. It was the 79th day of the walk and I'd walked 2008 kilometres. In a weeks time I'd finish the walk.

Camp in Tjakjavagge on the Kungsleden

The weather had been wet and windy for much of the previous month but I had had some fine days and some splendid camps. The temperatures were colder now with frosts at night and autumn colours were starting to appear.

Note: the pictures are from Fuji Velvia transparencies photographed on a lightbox with my Sony a6000 camera and Sony E 30mm macro lens. My camera gear for the trip consisted of Nikon F801 and FM2 SLRs, Nikon, 24mm, 28-70mm, and 70-210mm lenses, Cullman tripod, and CCS cases. Total weight 3.9kg.

A Walk In the Salzkammergut Mountains in Austria

View from Predigstuhl

As a gear reviewer for The Great Outdoors I’m invited on a quite a few press trips every year, mostly for the launch of a new product or material. I rarely go on these trips due to the time they take and the fact that often there’s no outdoor component at all, just factory visits, product presentations and nice meals. A trip this last week to trekking and ski pole make Komperdell in Austria promised to be different, with a mountain walk and a stay in a mountain hut, so for once I accepted. 

The cliffs of Predigstuhl

 

Komperdell is based in Mondsee, a lovely rural area of Austria that is part of the Salzkammergut range in the Northern Limestone Alps. It’s an area of forests and cliffs, rising to 2,000 metres. After an interesting tour of the factory (I never knew making poles was so complex) we headed out into the hills, or more accurately into the woods, to try various new trekking pole designs on an ascent of 1278 metre Predigstuhl. The mountain walk to the Dachstein glacier and the stay in the alpine hut had been abandoned due to the weather forecast, which was for thunderstorms, heavy rain and low cloud. 

Forest carving

The high mountains were indeed cloud-shrouded but lower down there were many layers of drifting mist that made for an ethereal and mysterious landscape. Much of the time we were in the forest, itself somewhat strange and magical in the hazy air. This is a rich and lovely mixed forest with much undergrowth. The first autumn colours were evident and there were many fungi pushing up through the damp soil. Early on in the walk there were many carvings beside the path to add to the fairy tale atmosphere.

Sheltered from the rain

From the lower forest we traversed the face of the great cliffs on a ledge cut into the mountainside. Here the first rain reached us and there was the only clap of thunder of the day. Overhanging walls shielded us from the downpour. 

Cliff edge

 

Beyond the cliff the path wound up and down through the woods, sometimes with cables and ladders on steep rocky sections, to the summit of Predigstuhl, marked by a large cross. Set right on the edge of the cliffs there was a magnificent view of the surrounding lakes, forests and mountains even though the highest peaks were still hidden in the clouds. 

Wet ladder

 

Further rough walking through rocky forest led through a huge landslip strewn with giant boulders to the Gasthaus Hutteneck-Alm and welcome beer and food. 

Through the landslip

 

This was a good walk for an introduction to the beautiful Austrian countryside. Whilst the forests feel remote whenever there’s a viewpoint you look down on towns and farms and neat fields. This is wild country but not wilderness. We saw little wildlife but with a group of eight not moving quietly that wasn’t surprising.  We did see several fire salamanders, their exotic colouring making them stand out.

Fire salamander

Navigation & Wind on Braeriach

Braeriach from Gleann Einich. My route went up the ridge second from the left.

Clear skies, a moon approaching full, warm weather. That combination tempted me into my first ascent of Braeriach this year. My plan was to photograph sunset and moonrise from a high camp. The last idea was abandoned before I even set out as the forecast was for strong winds increasing overnight and maybe gusting to 60mph by morning. A lower camp and an evening ascent and descent seemed a better ploy.

Braeriach and Rothiemurchus Forest

I approached via Gleann Einich and the north side of the mountain. I love this way to Braeriach, climbing gently through lovely Caledonian pine forest onto open moorland with corrie scalloped Braeriach rising in the distance, huge and brooding. Leaving Gleann Einich I followed the rushing Beanaidh Bheag. There are remnants of an old rough path here but mostly this is tough going through heather, long grass and bogs. At this time of year with the vegetation at its height, hiding rocks and holes, it’s particularly rough. Down here the wind was already strong and I sought a sheltered campsite lower than I’d intended, eventually pitching my tent below a bank some 700 metres below the summit. 

My camp by the Beanaidh Bheag

Setting up camp, having a hot drink, checking the map, repacking my rucksack for the summit, suddenly two hours had gone. Time to set off if I was to make the top for sunset. The going slowly eased as I reached more stony ground with thinner vegetation. Ahead I could see clouds thickening. Loch Coire an Lochain appeared below me, a bright lozenge of shining water. The rocky ridge narrowed. The wind was very strong now though and I needed my poles to stay upright.

The light was going, the cloud sinking, as I reached the summit plateau. Half a kilometre to the cairn. The cloud swept over me. No sunset, no moonrise, no visibility. Just cold damp mist and the roaring wind. A cairn appeared. The summit? Maybe. It would do. Time to turn back before the wind flattened me. I needed to find the top of the ridge I’d ascended – no point going down a longer way – and avoid the very steep craggy corrie walls either side of it. Braeriach’s summit plateau is vast. You could wander in circles here for hours. I looked at the OS map on my phone, the quickest way to check I wasn’t wandering off route too much and much easier than trying to handle a map in this wind, even one in a mapcase. Fifteen minutes later I checked again. Oops. A bit too far west. Head north now. Another look. Should be at top of the ridge now. I continued down, warily. Then a slight gap in the cloud and there to my left was Loch Coire an Lochain, just where it should be. Now I could concentrate on not being blown over or stumbling over rocks.

Loch Coire an Lochain appears during the descent

Eventually the cloud thinned. Soon I was out of it. The sky was clear and bright with stars, except over Braeriach, above which the moon was hidden in the cloud. It didn’t appear until I was almost back at camp. Now on the broad moorland slopes below the northern corries of Braeriach I checked the phone map a few more times just to pick out the most direct way back to camp. High on the mountain the pale granite boulders stood out in the gloom. Lower down the dark vegetation just looked black. Out came my headlamp, the first time I’ve used this for walking since spring.

Back at camp the tent was thrashing in the wind. Several pegs had pulled out of the soft ground. I restored it to stability and crawled in for supper and a night of broken sleep as the wind came in great gusts. 

 

View across Gleann Einich to Sgor Gaoith & Sgoran Dubh Mor

 

By dawn the wind was as strong down here as it had been on the summit. I wobbled back down to Gleann Einich, staggering seemingly drunkenly in the wind. Ahead the great broken rocky wall of Sgor Gaoith and Sgoran Dubh Mor rose impressively into a haze, cloud-streaked sky. The track in the glen was very welcome, as was the shelter of the forest. And finally so was lunch in Aviemore. An exciting trip, though not in the way I’d expected.

What's going on in Coire na Ciste on Cairn Gorm?

Coire na Ciste

The ski resort at Cairn Gorm used to cover two corries – Coire Cas and steeper, narrower Coire na Ciste. However the infrastructure in the latter was abandoned twelve years ago and has been left to decay ever since, a disgrace in a national park (or anywhere in the hills come to that). For many years downhill skiers have campaigned for the lifts to be reopened. This summer however the current Cairngorm Mountain operators, Natural Retreats, have started removing all the structures, including the snow fences. In principle if the lifts are not to be used this is welcome. The corrie should be left to return to nature. In places there is already some natural tree regeneration.

Lift support tower cut from its base rather than unbolted

However all is not as it seems. According to ParkswatchScotland (an excellent organisation worth following by anyone concerned about Scotland’s national parks) Natural Retreats and resort owner Highlands and Island Enterprise (HIE) are deliberately destroying infrastructure that could be reused and the work being done is not in accord with environmental requirements. At the same time a local group called Save the Ciste has an alternative plan for the corrie and wants to reinstate the skiing facilities there following a community buy-out. This will be difficult if the infrastructure has been destroyed.

Cut down lift tower lying across the path up the corrie

To see what was happening on the ground I visited Coire na Ciste on the last day of August, walking up through the old ski area and then descending the ridge on the eastern side of the corrie. The day was stormy with frequent heavy showers, interspersed with storms of midges! Only when I reached the head of the corrie was there enough of a breeze to disperse the biting hordes. Waterproofs and insect repellent were two essential items of gear. The Cairngorm reindeer herd were up at the top of the corrie, presumably also seeking escape from the midges. The workers I passed removing fencing and cutting up metalwork were all wearing midge nets. Horrible conditions for this work.

Workers cutting up infrastructure

Despite the rain and the midges I managed to take some pictures of the corrie as it was on August 31, which you can see here. There's certainly some damage being done to the ground, especially at the head of the corrie. What the outcome will be I have no idea – I’d like to see the corrie restored to wildness. If the infrastructure removal continues it should be with minimal damage to the landscape. In the meantime I’m sure Parkswatch Scotland will be posting more detailed reports, which I’ll be sharing on social media. And maybe Cairngorms National Park will comment.

Near the top of the corrie

The derelict old lodge in the Coire na Ciste car park

Ski junk in the Coire na Ciste car park

Derelict structures in Coire na Ciste