Video Showreel 2014

First cut of my 2014 Video Showreel.  I hope you enjoy it, but if you don't feel free to leave some constructive comments.   The post will probably disappear when the final cut appears :-)

Scotland North West Wanderings

I am miles behind when it comes to trip reports (20 plus days already) and there is no way I am going to get caught up.  Rather than miss yet another I will just put up a few recently processed images from my last trip up to Scotland.  This wasn't a photography trip so we simply walked, camped and enjoyed the hills without any constraints.

Gairloch Area

As you will probably have noticed on the blog recently I have been recording a number of air crash sites in the North Pennines as they are disappearing fast due to the actions of collectors.  While doing some research on these I also found out about several others in Scotland.  One of these was the crash site on Sidhean Mor of a B-24H Liberator Bomber serial no 42-95095 of the USAAF which crashed on 13th June 1945 killing all on board. 

This incident took place right at the end of the war in Europe as American personnel and resources were either being redeployed for the war in the Pacific, or returned to America.  Details are sketchy, but it would appear the aircraft had developed engine problems and may have actually clipped the top of Slioch as some parts of it were found on the summit.  If that is the case it would certainly have been too low for the crew to abandon the aircraft and they may have been looking to ditch in the sea.  Sadly they did not make it and instead hit the high ground surrounding the Fairy Lochs.  

Propeller with one of the engines behind.

 

There is also a memorial to the crew lower down next to the loch

Assynt

A few days later we headed up to the Assynt area and on the way visited the Inchnadamph bone caves.  If you are ever passing the short walk up is well worth it and it's a place I intend to revisit for some more photography.



One of the entrances to the Inchnadamph bone caves

We did several mountains as well as valley walks in the area, but the best mountain day by far was bagging the three Corbetts of Spidean Coinich, Sail Gorm and Sail Gharbh which make up the Quinag hills. Despite having a rather brief visit to the last summit when the rain came in we had a great time.  The light was rubbish most of the day, but photography took a backseat anyway and we simply enjoyed the hills for the sake of it.  

 

The approach to the final summit of the day Sail Gharbh. 



The view towards Glas Bheinn from the summit of Sail Gharbh.

 The summit of Sail Gharbh with bad weather on the way.



Spidean Coinich, with Suilivan in the distance.  It would have been great to spend more time on the summit but with a thunderstorm looking imminent we abandoned our break on the top and lost height as quickly as possible.  Fortunately the weather broke after we reached the valley.

Coast wise it was wonderful wandering around the machair looking at the wildlife, or simply passing the time watching the waves roll in while beachcombing. 

The flowers were just starting to appear on the Machair

A couple of my favourite seascapes from the trip. 

Sango Bay

Sango Bay

Text images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com

 

Memories of Getting High

Sometimes you cannot help but be in a reflective mood when you sit atop some mountain with the breeze on your face and the world laid out at your feet.  The mountains tend to create a mood to reflect, plan and clear the mind.  It's the perfect location to defrag the hard drive of the brain, but that said, it can also be something of a melancholy experience.

The Picos De Europa 

I met a friend I had not seen for perhaps 20 years while on the hill the other day.  We chatted about what we had been up to, compared our ailments, discussed plans for the future and generally caught up.  When we parted I felt really unsettled, almost a sense of loss.  Not for the loss of a friend, but of a lifestyle that had not just slowly slipped away, but simply stopped overnight.  

The year 1995 was a time of wonderful highs in cleanest sense of the word.  By that I don't mean the highs a drug gives you, I mean those life long endorphin highs the mountains give you.  The kind that leave their mark etched on your brain - from mountains hard won, from fears controlled and of friendships and hardships shared.

Of grand routes in southern Spain and Majorca in the spring, and of warm rock and the smell of rosemary and thyme in the hills.  A time when you knew you were truly alive, not just existing. 

 Getting high on the Espolon Central route Puig Campana, Costa Blanca Spain

Route Gubia Normal Gr3, St Gubia Mallorca

Happy

Of nights sleeping below thousand foot faces with nothing but a bivy bag and a down jacket in order to keep the weight down. Cold seeping into the bones, wishing the night away in fitful dreams - half sleeping half awake - who knows? but time passed as it always has. 

And when sleep would not come lying there staring up at a billion stars, listening to the sounds of the mountains, their dark silhouettes etched against the pre-dawn sky. The purr of the stove, endless brews and wondering if the others were awake.  They usually were - well apart from Carl, he always slept. Then still in the dark the act of forcing stiff muscles and cold bones across to the base of the route.

Sunrise striking the tops, but an age away from warming our bodies, instead warmth had to come through activity and those first few shaky pitches.  Confidence rising with the sun as the sun line came down to greet us.  Welcome at first, but with the glare from the limestone it would soon become too hot. 

Picos de Europa

The crux building in the mind with each move, inching forward, the void dragging at your heels. Being careful not to over-reach, use the feet, shake out the arms and clip the pro. Suddenly it's over, big holds, more protection and the tension eases. 

Al on La Nani (D sup), South Face of El Naranjo De Bulness (Pico Urriellu) Picos De Europa

A few more moves and a bomber belay awaits.  Safety checks done, toes on the edge, let the rope take the weight and lean out.  Looking down hundreds of feet past unseen companions somewhere below the overhang. 

More pitches, a bit of banter and laughter and a pause for the odd photo.  Now and again a hint of fear as arms tire and the protection begins to space out. Suddenly shouting in Spanish - a curse, or a warning perhaps, but then the sound of a falling rock thrumming past over to the left. I wonder what the Spanish is for BELOW?  A bit more laughter - nervous this time - but no harm done the overhangs protect us..... for now!

Pitch after pitch, nearly three hundred metres worth. Then the crest, easy scrambling and the summit beckons.  



Approaching the Summit of El Naranjo De Bulness (Pico Urriellu) Picos De Europa 

Suddenly we hear voices, French, Spanish and German perhaps.  It's the summit - cracking views and a little Madonna statue watching over us.  Chatting with the other climbers in a mixture of gestures and badly pronounced language, more laughter, some food and drink - relax - but only a little because the job is only half done.

Time to head down, time to refocus.  An un-roped scramble into the amphitheater, followed by tense abseils to the base of the route.



Nearly there, just about to pull down the last rope and then an unmistakable shout in French from above "ATTENCION".  Stones clattering down, a moments panic and I learn a new Spanish word from the team beside us, "Va, Va" GO, GO and everyone ducks in close to the rock. 

Back to the bivy site we grab some more food and drink and then its the long, long walk back out in the afternoon heat.  A days rest and then do it all again.  I felt as if I was living my life in HD.

Those were the last big routes I ever did and two months later I was in hospital with a knackered back and nerve damage in one leg, waiting for an operation.  It was nothing to do with climbing, just a lifting accident at work that took it all away. It was a lifestyle lost, but it still lives on etched in my mind. 

Text images copyright David Forster

A Lucky Escape and Tragedy in the Yorkshire Dales

The Pennine hills have borne witness to many stories of epic struggles, lucky escapes and of course tragedy.  These stories don't always relate to hill walkers, or other outdoor enthusiasts and it may surprise some to know that aviation plays a significant part in the history of these lonely windswept moors. 

The Pennines have always been a place to fear for aircrew facing bad weather, or mechanical problems and the remains of numerous aircraft that have failed to return to base are testament to this.

I recently planned a walk to explore the area around Castle Bolton and working on the theory that time spent doing research is seldom wasted I managed to find out there were two such air crash sites on the high ground to the north of the village.  One relates to a Gloster Javelin Jet, which crashed in 1959 and the other relates to a DeHavilland Mosquito TA525, which crashed in bad weather in 1946.

My initial plan was to head up Apedale and return via a track which runs from the mining grounds on Bolton Moor back to Dent's house in Apedale and a further look at the map showed I could take in the two sites with only minor detours.

This is open access land and after making my way along Apedale via the bridleway I struck off over the moor to find the general area where the Gloster Javelin came down. 

Being a grouse moor you can never be too sure of the welcome you will receive if you are spotted wandering around well away from established footpaths, but a friendly wave and smile from a passing farmer on his quad bike gave me a little boost of confidence.  I know I have every right to be there but I think I still have a few hang ups from all those years before right to roam where people were regularly hassled by over zealous gamekeepers and landowners who claimed that having people on the moors at any time of year (other than them of course) harmed the wildlife.  Years into the right to roam such opinions are now seen for what they were - rubbish - and if anything the presence of the public is probably helping the wildlife in that we can now see what goes on.

Anyway it was with thoughts like this rattling around my head that I continued on my way.  Weather wise while the sun was shining the wind was pretty strong at times and on a couple of occasions I was blown completely to a standstill.  Fortunately the wind unintentionally helped me and as I moved up towards some grouse butts I heard the clack clack of metal hitting metal carried on the wind.  After a bit of a scramble out of a deep peat hag I spotted the wreckage scattered across the fell side about twnety meters away. 

A general view of the crash site with one of aircrafts tyres

This was the site of the Gloster Javelin F.A.W Mk.5 XA662 of 228 Operational Conversion Unit which crashed here 29th September 1959.  The story behind the incident is that the crew took off from RAF Leeming and while over the North York Moors one of the engines developed a fault.  A short time later the second engine was also shut down due to a fire warning.  Fortunately the crew - Flying Officer C P Cowper and navigator Cpt R E Nietz successfully ejected from the aircraft and survived. 

Engine Jet-Pipe

The wreckage is pretty extensive and spread over an area of around 200m.  The engine jet-pipe is perhaps the largest visible component at around 10 feet long. 

 

 

Close up view of the Jet-Pipe

Many components are partly buried

The occasional rattle caused by the two pieces of metal above that kept hitting each other in the strong gusts gave the place a bit of an eerie feel and after grabbing a series of shots I soon moved on.

Joe Bosher gives a short account of his role as a member of the RAF recovery team here.

http://74th.co.uk/raf/service/castlebolton.html

The second aircraft lay a just over a kilometre as the crow flies on the other side of the hill, however as I also wanted to visit some of the mine workings here I struck off across the moor to have a look at these first.  Unfortunately very little remains of these other than collapsed shafts and spoil heaps and any photographic potential I thought they might have had when looking at the map was pretty limited, especially so considering it was midday and the light was rather harsh. 

Heading south I soon came across the shooting track which was followed for a kilometre or so to the area where the second aircraft lay.  Despite only having a general location for the aircraft I soon found the site.

This and some more wreckage further along the scar is all that remains of the De Havilland Mosquito TA525 which crashed here in thick cloud on the 14th February 1946, killing the 27 year old Dutch pilot Sgt Gebines La Hei instantly.  It is thought that Air Traffic Control had actually instructed him to climb but he did not manage to do so in time.

 

 

There is no memorial here only a pleasant view down the valley and the sad realisation that in those conditions there was little room for error and he probably only had seconds to react. 

There is a little more about the pilot and the incident itself here

http://www.yorkshire-aircraft.co.uk/aircraft/planes/dales/ta525.html


Text images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com

Helvellyn via Swirral Edge

While the weather was overcast it felt like spring had arrived as we left the campsite at Gillside Farm and sweated our way up towards Red Tarn. The illusion didn't last long and once we reached the col before the tarn we were met by a keen wind and soon changed back into winter clothing.

Across the tarn the north face of Helvellyn with its large cornices looked positively Alpine and it did not take long for us to decide on a quick break to take in the scene.

Striding Edge on the left and Swirral Edge on the right, with Helvellyn in the Centre.

Our plan was to head up onto Swirral Edge and then enjoy an easy scramble onto Helvellyn. On the way up we met several people coming down who had abandoned their attempt on the summit because they did not have ice axes or crampons. Some even seemed surprised to find winter conditions up here! If you are heading anywhere in the Lake District it is worth checking out the Lake District Weatherline which provides a daily report on the conditions found on Helvellyn during the winter.

http://www.lakedistrictweatherline.co.uk/index

We soon made it onto the ridge seeking out the best scrambling to give some added interest. This was great fun and we followed the crest to get some shots which despite the hazy mist still gave a sense of exposure.

View towards Catstycam

Moira and Sandra on the upper section

Some nice exposure with Red Tarn below

Exiting Swirral Edge

We had a quick wander over to the summit, but after two busload sized groups turned up we plodded back to the Swrirral Edge exit cairn to have our lunch and watch a few lemmings without crampons, or ice axes gamble on a slide down to Red Tarn and afternoon spent with the local rescue team.

Looking along the cornice from the Swirral edge exit towards the summit

We then headed onto Whiteside and then down into Keppel Cove, before making our way back to the campsite via the high level path above Glenridding beck.

Last shot with the view across Brown Cove of Swirral Edge and Catstycam

 

Text images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com

 

Land of Fire

With the arrival of some warmer weather I knew that the Adder (Vipera berus) would be out of hibernation so had a wander down to a hibernation site I have been observing for many years. Sure enough one individual was laying out in the sun enjoying a few rays. I had hoped to see several here and it is a bit worrying that there was only one.

Adder Vipera berus.

At the moment the North Pennines moors are looking like some kind of apocalyptic landscape and everywhere you look there are fires and massive palls of smoke sweeping across the moors.

This is of course controlled heather burning but for anyone who has never seen such a practice it must look pretty alarming. Heather burning has been going on for generations and is done as a part of the grouse moor management and conservation and is completed just before the nesting season begins. The burning of old heather in a mosaic encourages new heather shoots to grow and ensures the grouse that feed on the shoots have plenty to feed on. It is not without controversy it has to be said, but it is certainly not a black and white argument.

It has to be said grouse shooting is an emotive subject and from my own personal viewpoint I have mixed feelings about it. On the other hand i know several families that rely on the income from these activities either directly as gamekeepers, beaters and other estate staff, or indirectly as suppliers, accommodation providers, etc. I must admit I find it difficult to understand the mindset of people who enjoy killing animals for fun, but as one gamekeeper pointed out to me, all of these birds go into the food chain and they are not left to rot on the moors. He does have a point and unlike some forms of intensive farming the birds do have a better quality of life. It is a part of the argument I find hard to pick holes in and if I am honest my dislike is perhaps more one based on the dislike of killing for fun as much as animal welfare or the effect on the environment.

Anyway opinions aside, I had a wander over to one of the fires to get some pics. This is access land but even so was not sure what sort of welcome I would receive. Fortunately the keepers were friendly enough and using a long lens I was able to zoom into the action without getting in the way.

Text/images copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com

Weardale Wander - Carrs Top and Catterick Hill.

It's odd but there are a number of hills in Teesdale and Weardale that I have only ever been on as a result of mountain rescue searches and I have never stood on the top simply for enjoyment - the hills of Carrs Top and Catterick above Bollihope in Weardale being two such places.

It was time to put this right and in spring sunshine I left the car at Bollihope and made my way up towards the first hill, Carrs Top.  There is no official path to the summit of Carrs and it was simply a case of following various sheep and quad bike tracks in the general direction of the summit, stopping every now and again to look at anything that caught my eye. 

View south over Bollihope

 

It has to be said these moors are pretty barren at first glance but there are a few distractions in the form of collapsed shelters, cairns, old mine workings and bird life such as Golden Plover, Lapwing, Curlew and Skylark which were all seen and heard this morning.  On the lower slopes where the watershed comes together as Bollihope Burn, Ring Ouzel, Dipper and reptiles such as lizard and Adder can also be found.

With the honking of Geese from a pond on the other side of the valley floating over and the air alive with birdsong it really felt as if spring had arrived.  Mind you it felt a bit like this last year and the end of March beginning of April brought two big dumps of snow, so spring could still be cut short.

Carrs Top is only modest hill at 540m but it has long reaching views, which is why it has a trig point.  Its eastern end also has a small cairn with good views across to Catterick Hill, my next objective.

Cairn on Carrs Top with the view east to Catterick Hill in the distance

 

The view west across Weardale

 

Leaving the summit it was an easy if rather boggy walk to the road high point, which was crossed at right angles before making my trackless way towards the summit of Catterick (426m).  

Cairn on Catterick Hill with the OS trig point in the distance

 

Trig on Catterick Hill and the view north over Weardale

 

Moving west from the summit I made easy progress across trackless heather and after three hundred metres or so cut south towards some old mine working with lots of mineral coated rocks and some nice pieces of Fluorspar.  In fact the whole area has been mined and earlier in the day I even found a massive boulder at least 6 feet square that was completely coated in crystals.  The location of that particular gem is staying a secret for others who enjoy getting off the beaten track to find. 

 

 

 

Crystal rock close up

 

Making my way steeply down towards Bollihope I came across two holes that had recently opened up due to the heavy rain.   If you do intend walking in this area it is definitely worth keeping this in mind especially when walking in deep heather.

Several holes have opened up including one which drops into the nearby mine level that is not fenced off

 

Walk Date 3rd March 2014

Just as a postscript to this walk I headed back over this way the next day and noticed that a small hill called Long Man had some good light on it so made the short walk up.

Long Man Cairn

 

 

Oddest bit of littering I have ever seen

 

Rammed rather unceremoniously in the cairn was a plastic cremation Urn.  Needless to say I did not look inside and it may have been empty so perhaps they had already scattered the ashes.  It seems a shame to despoil the place by dumping it on the cairn though. 

Images/text copyright David Forster www.bluestoneimages.com