The Good, The Mad And The Ugly 1.1

Winter hillwalking in Scotland is a complex and dangerous activity pursued on a regular basis by lots and lots of people with a hunger for danger. Yes there are countless experienced individuals who do it well-equipped, with the level of experience and skills necessary (and also the much-needed ability to realise defeat and turn back if it all starts to go pear-shaped).
However, there are also others who approach it with a loose whimsy nothing short of a death-wish - jeans, fabric walking shoes, no emergency gear, you name it, its been done, and then the wonderful VOLUNTEERS of our mountain rescue services put their lives on the line rescuing them.
Hmmm, blatant and foolish risk taking = financial culpability . . sounds reasonable doesn't it?
I think so, but obviously things can (and do) go hill-shaped quite often through no fault of your own - a good day can end up a total nightmare, so you should always have an out - things you can do to mitigate the end result . . . BE PREPARED - like, f'rinstance, thinking about whether you really could sit out a storm with 6 inches to two feet+ of snow.
I think if the shit hit the fan most people's answer would be . . Er . . NO!

"So Sheephouse, how does this apply to you and why are you boring us with such shite?" I hear you cry . . .

Well, despite having walked mountains for a longish (20-odd years) time now, I've never done a proper Winter walk, and you know what, I probably won't as I like my days in the hills to be solitary  - ergo, it's only me in some very BIG nature - at 3500ft and a howling white out, I'd be the one on my tod with the brown trousers . . . no, I value my life more than to take a solitary risk.

But like that rash you get from too tight underpants in the summer, itching at the back of my brain is a need to photograph permafrost and ice and hard granite and snow . . . and with a large format camera too!
Sometimes itches have to be scratched.

The title of this blog though does tell the truth . . .
Lugging a 5x4 and its copious accessories into the wilds is not an undertaking for the faint of heart. I've done it a few times and the sheer weight of everything is enough to put you off as you heft your rucksack back in the carpark.
The heaviest part is undoubtedly the tripod (unless you can afford carbon fibre) - it is a total bastard to carry, weighs a ton, and is as awkward as it gets.
After this (if you are brave) comes (in equal levels of awkwardness) the Double Dark Slides (they're cumulatively heavy, not massively heavy each, but when combined, heavy enough to make you wish you'd only taken 4 . . . or 2) and the camera (well actually it's a toss-up between the two) - but in all cases, BULK is your main problem.
My ancient Wista DX is almost as light as it comes for a 5x4, but it is still heavy, however not as heavy as my Sinar F . . . now that is heavy and yet, strangely carryable.

Here's a brief aside:

The F stands for Field (Not Feckin' Heavy . . nope, that would be the Sinar FH) and yes, you can use it in a field - grab a 6 inch rail and it will entirely compact onto that, although if you fancy carrying a solid, all-metal, brick that is approximately 6 x 8 x 8" and awkward as fceck to pack, go ahead. Mine actually fitted into a Deuter 22litre rucksack, with the film holders in a click-lock box in the separate compartment at the bottom, the 12" rail in one of the water bottle pockets at one side, and the bag bellows viewer (undoubtedly one of the best LF accessories ever invented - look Ma! No Darkcloth!!) tucked neatly in beside the camera. My light meter was in a small Lowe pouch attached to the side of the rucksack . . . water was in a 1 litre Sigg bottle on the opposite outside pouch to the rail . . . and food? erm. Oh. Dried goods I'm afraid - oatcakes, dried fruit and a couple of bite-sized choccy bars . . . no room for extra clothing really apart from hat and gloves. The tripod (Linhof Twin Shank and Gitzo Series 5 [! - weighing about the same as the QE2]) was carried with a couple of ingenious handles knotted and cable-tied to two of its legs (the material was a stretchy fabric offcut) and the whole thing was stopped from going all splay-ey by a bungee cord. My boots at the time weighed over a kilo each too, so you can see, it is quite easy to nearly kill yourself with such a set-up . . and I nearly did. I've detailed some of it somewhere else on FB - if you want to find it, use the search . . I think 'nearly killed' would be the keywords.

Anyway, as I say the thoughts of carrying such a get-up to such heights as a Munro is nearly too much to bear these days, but I still wanted to photograph Winter.
Allied to this, I had a new (secondhand) rucksack to break in (long story cut short = upcoming camping trip/no wish to tear down compartments on Tamrac bag/not enough room for camping stuff = Karrimor Sabre 45!) hence the near genius idea of a decent walk, but at lower levels - if the permafrost was around there would be ample opportunity to photograph my chosen subjects. And you know what . . . I think I would have made it, were it not for a couple of things.

Number 1:

Low pressure and raised temperatures

Number 2:

Because of Number 1, all the snow was melting - little jumpable burns were now raging slippery torrents.

I had to re-plan on the hoof - the best laid plans of meece and men as it were . . . 

Basically, where I wanted to go, I had recc'ed a couple of years back - there were tiny, lovely, tinkling burns to cross before I got to a small gorge where the White Water forces its way between slippy stones and stunted trees at the edge of a boulder field.
It even sounds bloody great writing it!
My juices were flowing and my energy levels were up - in my minds-eye I could see great slabs of iced-water broken upon oval, water-smoothed, boulders.
I could see shapes and patterns, whorls and melt. It would be perfect.

But I'll go into it (and why it never happened) fully next time.

For now, are we sitting comfortably?
Yes?
Good - it is time for a little Sh-Sh-Sh-Sh-Sheephouse Aside.

 

Wot is it Sheephouse? Wot, I said, WOT, IS IT???

Well, isn't it obvious?

Nah. It looks like a green bag to me, wiv some sticks and fings on it, innit.

(Sigh) OK and just because it is you -  . . . it's a Karrimor SF Sabre 45 - a military grade rucksack which holds a capacious 45 litres - on the sides you see some ex-army PLCE side pockets (or Rockets as they're known) these hold approximately 15 litres each - so basically it is a 75 litre rucksack!

That's a lot of room and way more than I would carry ever (if it was a cloth barrel, could you imagine carrying 75 litres of beer? Nope, me neither . . ) however it is necessary for Winter.
My normal LF rucksack is roughly half that size - it's a Tamarac Extreme 777, which just holds all my LF camera gear with little room for anything else - that is no good for me in the Winter, hence a larger sack was necessary.
Nefarious excuses for buying another rucksack out of the way - here's what it held:

Exped 40 litre dry bag - almost everything was in there, which was in turn within the main body of the rucksack

Wista DX (protected in a small Lowe shoulder bag)

Schneider 150mm f5.6 Symmar-S (inside collapsed camera)

Schneider 90mm f8 Super Angulon (in lens wraps)

Light meter - Gossen Lunasix-F with spot attachment (in Lowe digital camera shoulder bag - it's small)

Note paper and pencils

2 cable releases

Reading glasses (in hard case) for composition

Silvestri Loupe

Spare meter batteries

Tape measure

Spirit Level

Dark Cloth (a Craghoppers microfleece with a zip neck - breathable and very light tight)

4 Dark Slides in a Lowe bumbag + 4 spare in a cliptop box

2 litres of water

Enough dried food for a monster like me

Emergency space blanket

Compass

Knife
Whistle
Torch

Map in waterproof mapcase

Small digicam case attached to waistbelt (to hold small Panasonic Lumix)

Ventile Jacket

US Army Poncho (in case of maximum wetness)

Buffalo systems hood and mitts (to match the Special 6 shirt I was wearing)

Gaiters

Ex-Army neck buff

Lowe Mountain cap

Spare cable ties

Leki Wanderfreund trekking pole (for crossing dodgy burns)

Oh and the tripod, which actually attached pretty well to the pack when I was using the Leki

Basically, if you can imagine carrying a toddler robot, you've got it.
I see the Army bomb disposal got there before me - sort of like this:

Or like this, but in reverse . . . if Altaira was carrying Robby, he would feel like the Karrimor Sabre fully loaded.

I've no idea what the weight was, but it was heavy . . . however (and strangely) with the pack on properly, waist belt clipped so my hips were taking the strain rather than my shoulders and with the sternum strap done up, it was surprisingly comfortable.
I was expecting to get truly hot and sweaty, but I was alright - so was the rucksack - nary a complaint - it is built like a brick sheephouse after all.
I'm not sure if I'd like to climb a Munro with that level of stuff though - I could probably slim things down a bit, to lessen the weight, but not that much. It would be a huge test of fitness.

Anyway, suitably ladened and after having had a quiet word with myselves in the carpark, off I marched into the wilds for 5 miles of phun and phrolics.

***

Phew, that was tiring wasn't it!

Well, this is what your intrepid reporter looks like after a sweaty yomp into the far beyond. Jings that load was heavy.

Your intrepid reporter, feeling less sweaty now the toddler robot has climbed down and is off for a play in the woods.
Note extreme wide-angle, off-axis, enlargement of facial features (Official Nikon F & Nikkormat Manual, p38).
Or am I just reverting to my childhood porkieness?
I prefer the technical answer.

But isn't it incredible, that even in the middle of nowhere, there's still some f'er taking a 'selfie'. 

Another Sh-Sh-Sh-Sheephouse aside . . .

Sorry to say it folks but I genuinely believe that Ali and me invented the modern one back in the very early 1990's, except we called them self portraits then . . and they were on film . . . but the concept was the same:

Point and shoot camera.
Reverse lens back to the picture taker.
Arm out, with that now oh so familiar pose.
Steady.
Say cheese
Autofocus at work.
Click.
That was it.

Nowadays you can even get a feckin selfie-stick so you can get all of yourself in . . er . . isn't that what self-timers are for?
Selfies have lost any meaning they might have had.
They used to work - the unusual angle, the self-proclamation of 'I WOZ ERE', it all led to a different slant on things, rather like the woman who managed to catalogue a visit to Egypt with her disposable 110 camera reversed so that every shot featured her ear (!).
You laughed at her mistake, but seeing most of the Wonders Of Egypt with an ear attached to them wasn't just a laugh, it was almost ART.
Nah, selfies, as common as dog muck and I hate them with a vengeance . . .
However, seeing as we invented them, why not . . . .

Er wait a minute Sheephouse . . . is that really you?

Och bugger . . . spotted again. Indeed it is. 

If you can find me in public and come up to me and say
'Your name is Herman Sheephouse and I claim my free sticker now' 
I can guarantee you'll get a special prize . . .

Anyway, where is all this going?
I am not sure actually, as it looks to me like I am just twiddling my fingers and writing the first thing that comes into my head . . . marking time I think my Dad would have said . . and he would have been right.
Why?
Well, I haven't developed the film yet. Well I have now actually, however no contacts have been made - more of that next time. For now let's just say, LF Photography Makes Men.
It's like a boot camp for the visual arts. it really is.
More next time in an epic and exciting episode:
The toddler robot returns, the weather turns, I have a turn, and, after nearly walking away disgusted, eventually end up whiling away a happy couple of hours next to a raging river.

Exceptionally precarious

TTFN -  and remember if the blue pills don't work, there's always the green ones.

Big Cameras & Dark Forests

Morning shipmates - whilst I don't normally go for the throat with titles, I thought this one appropriate, however to it I will add Big Cameras & Dark Forests (A Tale Of Terror)!
Terror?

Oh yes. Sheer panicky terror, underwritten with the overwhelming feeling of there being something outwith my experience.

Regular readers (Howdy!) will know I have a strong affinity with caravans. For the uninitiated in British holidaying, the caravan and the holiday caravan (nee home) are totally different things. The former is a device towed behind your vehicle and parked up wherever you can find a decent campsite, and if you can't find one of those then a friendly bit of land somewhere. It's a sobering experience, but one I feel everyone should have the opportunity to try at least once in life. The Holiday Caravan or Holiday Home, is a static caravan on a site. These things have changed vastly in the last 15 or so years, going from thin-walled breezy barns, with a cosy 'us vs the outdoors' feeling about them, to modern palaces. Seriously - there are some very fine campsites out there with modern Holiday Homes in them that are like small palaces . . central heating, small en-suites, satellite tv, free wi-fi . . basically enough to satisfy your every holiday need. I can heartily recommend them as, if you choose your site wisely, they can provide a solid base for a touring holiday. You don't have to worry about packing up and packing down, you can spread yourself out and rise as early or late as you wish. In other words they're relaxing . . bloody relaxing.

Here's a wee film I made. The rain was real.

My tale of terror occured one wet and windy October stay in such a caravan (wot? a caravan in October? are you mad??). The site - Glentrool Holiday Park at Bargrennan near Newton Stewart in God's Own County - Dumfries And Galloway. Situated on the edge of the Galloway Forest Park, it's a really decent, well maintained and friendly site where we have enjoyed a number of excellent holidays. Allied to this it is in a Dark Sky Area, so the night skies (when it isn't raining) are extraordinary. Mix in the feeling that you are experiencing Scotland somewhat as it was in the 1970's (Galloway can be like that) and you have a recipe for delight.

Of course, this being FB I can't go far without mentioning photography . . and it is from my indulgence in this wonderful hobby that my Tale Of Terror springs.

It had been raining for a couple of days, and not just light showers either, but on and on, which does restrict one somewhat. Allied to this it was the start of October, so the nights were fair drawing in and it was getting pretty dark, pretty early, but that was mere chiffchaff for your intrepid photographer . . oh no . . I am made of sterner stuff . . true grit and all that.

I'd recc'ed White Cairn a couple of days before - it had involved lots of tramping through forest paths with exceptionally soggy boots, trousers soaked to the thigh; of sodden jackets and even having to use the AW cover on my LowePro Nova camera bag . . now that's bad! 
I found it eventually, and discovered that I could have quite easily reached it had I used the path network from Glentrool village . . but then I'm thick like that . . if there's a hard way of doing something, I'll find it.

I was taken aback by the sheer loneliness of the place. Despite being surrounded by modern planting, in my mind I clearly saw it back in time. White Cairn is approximately 3000 years old and it feels it. The small clearing where it resides holds a serious presence, but on my initial discovery of it, I was blissfully unaware of that. I just thought it was beautiful and awe-inspiring and I really wanted to photograph it with a 5x4 camera. I wandered back home, and knew I had to return.

A couple of days later found us back home from our jaunts early, so, seeing as it seemed to have stopped raining, we had our tea and I grabbed the Wista and Gitzo and headed out, deciding I would try and photograph a few forest scenes too before I got to White Cairn.

I should add that it wasn't more than half a mile away from our caravan as the crow flew. So not far - not an epic journey physically, but definitely epic in atmosphere.

Despite an end to the rain, the day was still drear and not very inviting to photography at all, but I thought I'd take my chances - I hadn't got much of the holiday left and didn't want to risk not being able to photograph it at all.

Boring techy camera bit:

I will take a little aside here and say that a lightweight wooden field camera (like the venerable Wista DX) is a thing of supreme joy from the point of view of haulage. Jack Dykynga uses one for long trips and I feel that says a lot as he could pick what he likes. I get away with mounting mine on 1980's Gitzo Series 2 Reporter. It was a reasonable purchase at £120 with a Gitzo Pan and Tilt head and is without a doubt one of the finest most stable tripods I have used. It's easy to maintain, it doesn't weigh a huge amount, and above all else it is incredibly stable. I've used it in really heavy duty windy conditions and the resulting negatives have been absolutely fine. Mine is a G224, so if you can find one, snap it up - you can still get the spares too.

With my Wista I use the following three lenses:

1980's Schneider Symmar-S - 150mm f5.6

Mid-1960's Schneider Angulon - 90mm f6.8

Late-50's Kodak Ektar - 203mm f7.7

The Symmar is the heaviest, but it is a fine lens for most applications. The Ektar I didn't have at the time of this escapade, but it is as sharp wide-open as stopped down. The 90mm Angulon just covers 5x4, but is a fine little lens and manages to impart atmosphere to photographs in a way which I am yet to understand.

Back to the Wista - whilst I would love the likes of an Ebony, not just from the point of view that it is a lovely camera, but also from the point of view of its appeal as a stunning object of great craftsmanship, the little Wista can really hold its own. It does have a certain charm and is the sort of camera that you don't have to worry too much about. I've seen people complain about the stability of the standards, but they lock down beautifully and I must admit I love mine. 

Anyway . . onwards!

So there I was, semi-burdened, heading off into the still light, but slowly darkening forest. 
I found my way quite easily and following the track as it took off through a mass of heavily-planted trees I felt it would be as good a place as any to make some photographs. Just to prove my decision right, the clouds cleared for a bit and I was regaled with a clearish sky. It was  actually a good few stops lighter, so I stopped by a burn I'd spotted previously and made two exposures using the 90mm Angulon. 
The ground glass looked good, so I felt that maybe the photographs would too.

Forest 1
Wista DX, 90mm Angulon, TMX 400 in HC110

Forest 2
Wista DX, 90mm Angulon, TMX 400 in HC110

I think the wee Angulon has captured that sense of a forest's stillness. 
The meeting of the three waters in particular struck me as very much a peculiar thing . . . there was a small rummel of sound as the water quietly made its way off into the darkness and I had the feeling of intruding on one of Natures' hidden processes. 
All was quiet apart from a couple of dogs yapping away in Glentrool Village some quarter of a mile away. I was very much alone and it felt it. Had the trees been native Scots trees rather than just another modern pine forest, I think the feeling of being disassociated from time would have been complete, because that is what I felt. 
I was using 'modern' technology (OK . . the process is over 100 years old, but you know what I mean) to capture the scene and I was wearing modern clothing, but I could just have easily been standing there in bare feet and burlap, or from an even earlier time - all animal skins and a wooden bow. 
Time meant little to me and it seeped into my bones.

It was so very peaceful and I succumbed to it. 

I don't know about you LF photographers out there, but when I am using the big boy's camera I become totally absorbed and lose track of time, which didn't help in this case. I dreamed, I was slow, I finished off at a leisurely pace, and, filled with that sense of peace and the slipping of time, I packed my camera away, collapsed the tripod and strolled on to White Cairn.

Coming out of the trees' cover I was struck by the gloam and just how totally alone I was. I knew that it would be easy to take a wrong turn on the way back so I marked where I came out of the trees, got my bearings again (though this is hard when the only horizon is trees) and continued.

Arriving at the clearing of the Cairn I suddenly realised that time was against me. I circled the tomb in the stillness and tried to get an idea of a decent composition.

It was really hard to do this because I knew I couldn't be disrespectful to the tomb. Yeah I could have got the tripod and the 90mm Angulon and got right in close to the stones, but then it wouldn't have felt right, and besides, some weird sixth sense was tickling my subconscious saying, 'Just don't even think about it'. 

I made one exposure, which didn't work at all, so moved around a bit more, and took the photograph below.

White Cairn
Wista DX, 150mm Symmar-S, TMX 400 in HC110

It's OK. Nothing special though. I am not sure whether I captured the atmosphere of the place or not.

I had to used the 150mm Symmar-S, because, as I have already said, there was no way I was going to disrespect this resting place.

As the shutter stayed open and I counted off the exposure, I instantly became aware of two things.

Firstly the sun had set, completely. The darkness was very apparent. It emphasised just how far removed I was from the modern world.

The second thing, would, in normal circumstances be considered fanciful. I was deeply aware of a presence that wished me to be gone. 
There, I've said it. 
Mad? 
No. I can at times be acutely aware of atmospheres and such things, and the Cairn had spoken: 

Begone.

The command, because it was one, took root in my core and filled my mind: 

Leave. 

I cut short my exposure, and rapidly, with shaking hands and my breath becoming visible in the chilled air, inserted the dark slide and removed the film holder, packed it away with the others, removed my cable release, attached lens cap, collapsed the camera, unscrewed the camera from the tripod, packed the camera away in my rucksack, zipped it up, did a quick double check that I had left nothing, collapsed the legs on the tripod, slung my rucksack onto my back, and with one final, hasty glance, picked up my tripod and ran.

Running was the only solution because whatever presence was there, really did wish to be alone. 
I, a mere puny modern human being had no place at the site.  
No matter my affinity with stone-age man, it wasn't enough. 
I was an unwelcome guest.

I never run. It just isn't something I do. But I had to. Complete panic filled me. I legged it out of the clearing and along a forestry Land Rover track, to the point I had marked that cut off under the trees. 

It was at this point I paused and terror pummeled my subconscious. The 'path' which was more a run of flattened rough grass and disturbed pine needles, was lost in a complete darkness. A primal fear of the unknown clung to those trees and I felt that once I entered them, I would not exit.
I could stay on the Landie track, but where would that leave me - these things have a habit of running for miles in directions you would never consider.

Caught between a rock and a hard place and the awareness that whatever stalked the clearing had now made its way free and was following me, I took one deep breath and headed into the trees.
I stumbled, I peered, I stopped and checked, and the deeper in I got, the more I realised that the presence of the Cairn suffused the whole area. It was a deep and powerful feeling that emanated from the quiet earth. 
Fear of the unknown gripped my vitals.

Halting in an almost complete darkness with my heart hammering in my ears I tried to calm myself, but it wasn't working. 
And then I heard it. 
The quiet rummel of water moving in the silence. The meeting of waters. The place of my photograph. It was nearby. 
I cautiously moved forward, using my tripod like a blind man would use his stick. I couldn't afford to fall over . . . the 'thing' behind me might well be upon me before I knew it.

And then I was splashing forward and through; beyond, distantly, the trees denseness gave way to lighter patches where they ended and I knew that I'd be able to get out. 
The last hundred metres I took as fast as I dared, and suddenly I was out and onto another path, a more familiar marked one, and I knew in the dusky overcast night that I would easily be able to follow my tracks home. 
The presence left me as quickly as I left the trees and I fancied in my head that whatever it was had toyed with me, for I was aware of a subconscious deep laughter, at me, the foolish 'modern' man.

I made my way back down onto the main road and walked back to the caravan at quite a pace, because I suddenly realised that my panic would be as nothing to my familys', had I been 'missing' in the darkness of the lonely miles of the Galloway Forest Park.

Soaked and bewildered, emanating steam and relief, I have never been so glad to see an electric light in my entire life.
And that's it friends - one of life's wee adventures.

In hindsight, maybe I could have hunkered down in the trees and over-nighted it, however I don't think my heart would have been able to stand it. 

Conversely, I could of course have headed back to the tomb and crawled inside, for it is quiet and peaceful and quite dry, and let the aeons of time strip my 'self' from my bones and given my soul to whatever spirit bides there . . .

But then again . . . 

If you have found this interesting, please feel free to follow up with some more reading!

Going through some of the links below you realise that there might well have been activity on the site dating back to the late Mesolithic (7000 to 5000 BC). When you think about it and see how much this site has been disturbed in modern times, I think that whatever presence is there, just wishes for peace.

Gods bless and thanks for reading.

http://drmarkjardine.wordpress.com/2013/06/25/the-covenanters-of-the-white-cairn-in-galloway/

http://www.ncl.ac.uk/historical/research/project/2405

http://canmore.rcahms.gov.uk/en/site/62997/details/white+cairn+bargrennan/

http://www2.uclan.ac.uk/scitechmedia/bargrennan/whitecairn.html

Density Junkie (Part One)

Morning Playmates from a terminally cooled down Summer's-gone-and-Autumn-is-coming Scotland.
Ah yes I can smell the chill on the air and the clenching poverty now . . oh yes folks - this will be a hard one. Personally I reckon Putin is so peeved at Merkels financial outing of the Russian ex-pats in Cyprus, that they are just going to say . . Who's got the Pipelines? Who? Was that a Pretty Please? Pretty Please With Bells On? Hmmm? Hmmmm?
(Кто имеет Трубопроводы? Кто? Это было Симпатичным Пожалуйста? Довольно Пожалуйста Со Звонками На? Hmmm? Hmmmm?) Apparently.
All I can say folks is if you are European . . . invest in some good quality woollen underwear. There, that's a tip for you. Woollen, because it is the best - synthetic can't hold a candle to it. And if you are really feeling flush, Ulfrott, or Woolpower as it is known . . their socks are incredible.


Right.
Perceived/Received Wisdom!
There is a general belief that one should always trust one's elders and betters . .
Am I right?
You trust me don't you?
Har har - just joking.
Question everything.
Learn for yourself.
Trust Little.


To give you a point from my own life - aeons ago, late 1960's
The sage lesson I am going to recall this week concerns my brother. BC - Big Chris. He's 6'4" tall and in the late 1960's was one of the tallest men in London.
It's true.
People were shorter then - a lot shorter. I remember him telling me that there were a bare handful of people in London and its vicinity that were over the 'magical' 6'. Seems strange these days doesn't it, but you just have to look at his generation - Wartime babies, rationing. I've no idea where he got his size from, but it didn't apply to me (well it did in girth of stomach . . but that's another story).
BC was going on 17 stone at the time - pure muscle.
He played a lot of Rugby and on a holiday job worked had worked as a lugger on the building site of the old (now demolished) Northolt Swimming Baths - one bag of cement under each arm and running. Double hods . . that sort of thing.
For fun, he would borrow my Mum's solid canvas/leather/plastic/tartan shopping bags, load them up with tins and then go for 10 mile runs.
He got fast, really fast, and like a train bearing down on you was a formidable presence.
I trusted him.
'Stand there Phil - look it's unbreakable.'
That was the command.
The unbreakable item?
A late 1960's Bottle of Orange Squash in a newly-on-the-market 'Unbreakable' Plastic Bottle.
It was so Space Age you could almost taste the vacuum.

So handy; so convenient. So much lighter than glass. 
This is one thing you won't need the hubby to help you with on the weekly shop. 
And Mums it is Unbreakable too, so no more worrying whether little Sharon will drop that old fashioned glass bottle and hurt herself, no! 
This is the FUTURE.

So I stood as commanded whilst he proceeded to chuck the bottle at the kitchen lino from what must have been around 5-odd feet up.
The resulting drench of concentrated orange liquid was remarkable. As was the plastic shrapnel. Not least for the fact that a chunk of it nearly removed my left eye., fortunately glancing off my Orbit (the bony area surrounding the eye socket).
The shouts from my Mum were also remarkable - though strangely I don't remember her swearing  . . . that would come later and it took me to break her!
I trusted Chris though. He'd given me lifts home from Barantyne School on the crossbar of his bike . . .
And Chris, I still have the scar.


So, trust your elders and betters? Or learn, as I have had to do, to harbour a tad of reticence . . .
Photographically it is a lesson I have learned in a hard way.
I have had a problem/still do have a problem. I have a large amount of sheets of 5x4 film. I had a splurge at the start of the year, and in doing so, had little thought for the fact that I already had some. The latest expiry on it is 2014. But I have recently found a number of sheets of stuff that has expired by about a year. It wasn't refrigerated ('tis now).
Anyway, last weekend I thought it was high time I started using it up.
I have tried LF photography in a City at times when there are people about . . and you know what . . . it very nearly sucks.
For a start you look like a total idiot.
People keep wide berths.
Maybe I should mutter to myself and develop a twitchy-shake to my head - it might make the whole exercise easier . . after all who is going to pay attention to a loony with a stupid-looking old camera . .actually, scrub that . . most people don't even realise that a 5x4 camera is a camera!
If you've ever seen Monty Python's Village Idiot sketch, you'll get an idea of what I am getting at.
Village Idiot on the outside but ready and willing to discuss Cartesian Dualism with anyone who cares to ask.

Yer average Large Format Photographer
Sitting on a wall . . waiting for light to happen.

So who is going to pay attention to a loony with a weird wooden contraption on top of three poles, who keeps ducking under a cloth attached to it and reaching round the front and twiddling with knobs?
I'll tell you who pays attention. Security Guards and The Police.
In this lovely old isle you are on CC TV most of the time.
Operating a LF camera illicits one response . . Extreme Suspicion.
Call me paranoid, but on the contact sheet I am about to show you, the first frame I took, was up a close and around the back of a takeaway restaurant. It is a shite photograph, but that isn't the point (yet) . . about 45 mins after I took it I wandered back on the other side of the road and there was a police car nearby and two officers! What? For me? I have nearly been arrested before for being SAIPOC (Suspicious And In Possession Of A Camera - you can read about it here if you like). Do the police really think that someone using a camera that requires you to mount it on a tripod is going to actually be of danger to the State? Has no one heard of iPhones???


Anyway, I digress - to use a LF camera in a City, you really need to get out early. In my case around 5 or 6 AM. generally the latter - it takes me two hours on average to make four photographs, so I can be back and having a cuppa before the rest of society deems me too dangerous to ignore.
So there I was, a surfeit of film, a bad conscience and the prospect of Winter looming meaning no hiding from the eyes of suspicion under cover of extreme earliness. What can you do, save, get everything together and head out. Which I did.
To say the results were bad and the photographs dull would be an understatement. I think the term I would use both for composition and technical prowess, would be ahem (better get your Mum out of the room) . . Shit.
Quite why I find it hard to compose with a 5x4 camera is beyond me. It isn't for want of trying. I've exposed approximately 250 sheets of 5x4 film and I still can't get the hang of it! Taking in the length of time I have been doing this and film costs then versus film costs now, and averaging everything out to a conservative 75 UK pence per sheet, that approximates to around £190 on film costs for little gain.
So what is it I struggle with? Well, I am beginning to suspect it is all about proportions. I've mentioned this before in FB so won't go into it again . . suffice to say it is duller than a small grey man, painting a small grey building, battleship grey . . inside and out.
Back to the Shit.
Here - have a deco at the Contact print and see if you agree with me . . I know you will!

Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud.
It's all there folks - look at the edge effects from uneven development.
Glory in Hippo Heaven!
Ilford MG RC Mudtone, Grade Mud, Kodak Muddymax, Agfa Mudbath Fix.

I have here dear reader, broken the rules set down in Paragraph 6, Subsection 2, of The Photographer's Law . . namely:

Thou Shalt Not Show The World At Large Thy Worst Bits.

If thou showest your worst to The Worlde, then The Worlde will mistrust you implicitly. 
Keep your worst for your own misery. 
File that print away in ye olde paper boxes . . 
If 'they' see thy worst, how are 'they' going to know if thou ist any goode?


So what does this have to do with not trusting everything you read?
Well, I have fancied using David Vestal's formula of Divided D76 for a long time. It is quite easy to mix and I wondered whether it could give me grey tones along the lines of this:

I love the grey scale in this photograph. It is of course of Sir Ansel Of The Adams and was taken by Vestal. Surely if I mix up some of his own discovery of a compensating version of D76 I could not only have a developer which deals with a vast array of lighting situations, but also, maybe might give me greys like the above.
Well, that's what I thought - ever the hopeful searcher for photographic truth.
Here's Vestal's original Formula as stated in Anchell & Troop's semi-Bible, The Film Developing Cookbook:

Bath A:
Metol 2 g
Sodium Sulphite 50 g
Hydroquinone 5 g
Water to 1 Litre

Bath B:
Borax 2 g
Sodium Sulphite 50 g
Water to 1 Litre

The only problem I had, was that I didn't have any Hydroquinone. However on re-reading the text I discovered that A&T were saying you could omit the Hydroquinone, by upping the Metol and Borax. I had Metol, Sodium Sulphite and Borax so I was in business!
And here's their version:

Bath A:
Metol 3 g
Sodium Sulphite 50 g
Water to 1 Litre

Bath B:
Borax 5 g
Sodium Sulphite 50 g
Water to 1 Litre

5 minutes in each bath, temperature variable, constant agitation. No pre-soak.
OK I thought, interesting - this goes against all my 2 Bath experience (Barry Thornton  - lots and lots of it). I have developed films both with and without a pre-soak with BT 2-bath and through practical experience came to the conclusion that a pre-soak was an essential thing.
A lot of people say it isn't, because with constant agitation you'll get even development anyway. I'll agree with that for a lot of developers, but for some reason me and 2-baths (and actually all developers) . . without a pre-soak I can often get uneven development, and I am Captain Agitation!
There is also the theory that giving a pre-soak, means that the developer has less chance to soak into the film, because it has to displace water from the soaked emulsion . . there is some sense to that, however when you think about it, the developer has to expel/mix with water with a pre-soak, or has to saturate a dry film with no pre-soak.
I can see no difference, and especially if you are using constant agitation.
It is almost like calculating how many Angels can dance on the head of a needle . . so hair-splittingly, hair-splitting as to be of only a navel-gazer's interest . . but for me, a pre-soak works, however here were my elders and betters A&T (they have written a wonderful and highly acknowledged book after all) telling me: no pre-soak; so balking against it like a surly toddler, no pre-soak it was!


When I process sheet film, I do it carefully, lone sheet after lone sheet . . one at a time. I am also a pretty conscientious and methodical developer, so sheet film processing can be a looooong process. With the Vestal DD76, this was 10 minutes development time plus the stop, and fix so you are talking about approximately 20 minutes per sheet . . that's nuts . . . in the dark . . . with nothing but yer brain for entertainment.
But the goal of a long grey scale and tonally wonderful negatives was ahead of me . . what was such time spent when you could be nearer nirvana!
So, I developed my first sheet. I am going to detail each one in  . . er . . detail, that way you can get an idea of what I have done.

Frame 1:
90mm Schneider Angulon.
TMX 100, EI 50.
Meter reading taken from shadowy area on tree and placed on a rough Zone IV.
2 Minutes at f32, extended to 4 Minutes Exposure to compensate for reciprocity.
Does that look like a thin negative to you? Too bloody right. The developer has dealt with the leaves and things quite well and the extreme range of brightness, but that's about it. HP5 and 1:2 Perceptol would have done it a lot better.

Frame 2:
150mm Schneider Symmar-S
TMX 100, EI 50.
Meter reading taken from concrete highlight and placed on Zone VI.
8 Seconds at f22, extended to 11 Seconds Exposure to compensate for reciprocity.
This is the best one. I actually think there is almost a glimpse of the tonal scale you can apparently achieve with this developer.

Frame 3:
150mm Schneider Symmar-S
TMX 100, EI 50.
Meter reading taken from pipe and placed on Zone IV.
1 Second at f22.
Totally ghastly. Exposure was rather hurried though as a Security Guard and his van were bearing down on me and I had to hurriedly make this and then shift my tripod!
To be honest, despite asking what my camera was, he was alright, and I did ask him if it was OK to be photographing here. He also remembered Joe McKenzie (my old lecturer) so that was fine too.
Look at the uneveneness though, caused by lack of a pre-soak.

Frame 4:
150mm Schneider Symmar-S
TMX 100, EI 50.
Meter reading taken from skull and placed on a rough Zone VI.
4 Seconds at f32, extended to 11 Seconds Exposure to compensate for reciprocity.
Unfortunately I didn't compensate for the fact that I was massively extended in the bellows department (oo-er missus) and this is the thinnest negative of the lot . . and the one I most wanted to come out the best!
I so desperately wanted this to work, but it is deadly thin. Not enough exposure, and uneven development.
What a shame.

So there you have it, a Quadrille of Doome. I should have stopped when I saw how thin the first negative was, but I was too trusting and the photograph of Ansel was in my mind's eye . .
So, having got 4 really quite thin negatives, I racked one of them into my enlarger and had a butchers at the grain . . Oh trump. it is that really non-existent soft grain which I am actually beginning to hate, simply because it is so difficult to see. The Sodium Sulphite had done its worst and made the grain all smooth. Conversely, if you want smooth grain, then this could be a good developer for you with TMX, but for me. Nope. Sorry. All it seems to have done is ushered the brass out of the room, when I so desperately wanted the full-on blare of a high-powered horn section! Know what I mean?
I actually think (and maybe I am being daft here) that given a traditional film with a traditional grain structure (ie, NOT T-GRAIN!) and given enough exposure then DD76 could well be a good choice. I have a roll of Agfa APX 100 that I am willing to sacrifice in the best interests of my readers . . so watch this space. But for films like the TMX's, then walk away, and quickly. The results are not pleasing.

Turned Out Nice Again
Ilford MG RC, Grade 4.5, Kodak Polymax, Agfa Fix

I had to make a quick print of the above - it is a work print (again heart on sleeve). In a final Fibre paper print, I'll keep the shadowy tonality, but use liquid lightning (Potassium Ferricyanide) to emphasise some of the skulls towards the back. You can do a lot to make this into an interesting print.
Also, a note to readers - if this looks all soot and ash on your monitor, I can assure you it isn't. I have my minotaur calibrated and what I see more or less emulates the prints (that doesn't say much eh!). I didn't do it expensively either, I used this. It is a great little piece of freeware.
My other thing I must say about this negative is that in all my years of enlarging negatives, I have never had to try and focus such a grain-free one . . so maybe that is an advantage . . I suppose.
It was totally, utterly, incomprehensibly, incredibly, difficult, even with a fine focuser like the Omega. Honest, the grain was invisible. 
So there.
Want grain free?
TMX 100 and Vestal's Divided D76!

These results have cemented something in my mind . . and it was something I hadn't realised until I did the Ralph Gibson Experiment all those months ago . .
I am a Density Junkie (or at the very least, I think I might be)
Dense.
You know - over-exposed, possibly over-developed.
Thick and black.
Through density comes a form of luminosity (in my view).
I viewed my contact sheet and hungered for more oompah!

The 1973 Brighouse & Rastrick Brass Band salute Sheephouse's Quest For More Density!

Yes you can compensate for an underexposed (read: soft) negative with a higher grade of paper, but honestly, a denser negative printed at a lower grade will, I believe, give you a nicer result.
I am determined in the future to throw away all ideas of lovely whispy, 'perfect' negatives.
Give me it dark and dense and I'll take it from there.


So there y'go folks.
I hope you have gleaned something from this, because I have.
It is a lesson learned by me, and written almost immediately, for you.
Hopefully it has been instructive.
Let's call it growing up in public.


Tune in next time for Part Two, where I make a discovery in a good book, roll out an (almost) final 10ml from my ancient bottle of Rodinal, and further cement my thinking about 5x4 Photography.
Take care, God Bless and thanks for reading.

If You Could See What I Can See .  . When I'm Cleaning Windows
I managed to get my didgy camera through the bars which restricted the Wista
Imagine coming across a sight like this at 6.30AM

The LF Madness

I really didn't need it . . honest I didn't, but you know when your mind starts thinking about something . . .

Well, I was already well-stocked with LF film (100 sheets TMX 100, 50 sheets TXP 320 and some odds and sods [18 sheets of TMX 400, 9 sheets of Delta 100 and about 5 sheets of Adox]) however when I saw a member of FADU offering to sell some of his film, I jumped.
Crazy? yes definitely, but for the princely sum of £105 including postage what else could I do?

I bought 50 more sheets of TXP, 50 sheets of Adox 100 and 25 sheets each of HP5 and FP4. After a word with my wife explaining that it doesn't get any cheaper and we really do have room in the fridge, I am, officially, STUFFED TO THE GUNNELS. 

300-odd sheets. 

I think probably enough film to outlast me, given that I often only expose 4 at a time usually, or maybe 8  or 12 on a good hillwalk.

And what was the reasoning behind this madness . . well, given that last year a box of 50 sheets of Kodak film increased by roughly £25 a box (to £75!), and given that when I started making 5x4 photographs, a box of 25 sheets of Ilford film was around £16 and is now approaching the heady heights of £37, the answer is simple . . economics. 

I really do question the motives of film manufacturers in this day and age. On one hand you want to keep your business going, HAVE to keep your business going, and on the other hand you risk alienating your prime users, the few enthusiasts who are left, who won't go the digital route and find themselves through no fault of their own having to question why (for instance) a roll of 36 exposure Ilford HP5+ now costs around £5!

Yes, I can appreciate that it is expensive to make, and yes the wholesale price of silver rose dramatically last year, due to China and India's demand for it, however this year it is quite different. You only have to look at the share prices of commodity miners to realise that the demand has gone belly-up almost overnight. Just look at the recent drop in gold prices. The world's economic markets are up and down more often than a bride's nightie. This still doesn't make silver cheap, but I would love to see the profit margins on film. Maybe they're not as great as I would expect . . .  

However I do know one thing, film, once the cheapest part of our hobby, is now, pound for pound the most expensive (apart from Leica accessories - my FISON hood, incredibly costing more gram for gram than Gold). And to the big 3 I will say this: all that is happening is that people like myself (your enthusiastic amateur customers) are seeking out cheaper alternatives, which is stupid really, because where the big three have the beans is in the area of quality control. I can safely say that I have had no problems ever from Ilford or Kodak or Fuji, but I have from Foma (not the roll film though, just the sheet film).

Anyway, I suppose this all explains why I went mad and stocked up . . .

So where does this lead me . . well, the crazy impulsiveness of my purchase has made me think that I had better learn to use the 'man's camera' (5x4) more, and use it properly.

I do actually love the whole involved and laborious process of making a Large Format photograph - it is therapeutic and you really feel at the end of a session that you have done something.

Thinking back to when I started I cannot be entirely sure why I did in the first place . . 

I think I was maybe driven by the thought that I could achieve better, sharper, images than the combination of things I was using at the time (Rolleiflex T and Pentax 6x7), but actually, let this be a sage warning to you, unless you are printing to a massive size on a regular basis, then you are going to notice very little difference, and in fact if you are only printing 8x10" then there is almost little point. 

I say almost, but there is one area in which a 5x4" negative excels and that is in rendition of tones of grey. 

I seem to get a broader breadth of grey tones with a larger negative, and you can argue with me on this, but I am just basing it on my experience.
Up to and including 6x6, my greys often seem a little compressed - maybe this is because I am using a 'lowly' Rolleiflex T; maybe it is down to single-coating.
I even found this sort of tonal compression to be the case with the legendary long tonal scale film/developer combo of Ilford's HP5+ and 1:3 Perceptol. In 6x6, it was good (not great), but in 6x7 negatives (one whole cm bigger!) the greys breathed big time. A whole night/day difference.
My problems seemed to vary depending on developer/film combination, but on the whole, it seemed to be pretty much the case (to my eyes). Moving beyond 6x6, to 6x7cm, 6x9cm or 5x4" then it was like a corset being loosed and there was this enormous intake of breath and the image could breath!
My grey tones seemed to expand massively, and I am not sure entirely why. Effectively, the film and developer were the same, so what was the difference? I don't actually know. Chemical conversion per square inch? Rendition of fine detail? Micro-contrast? Film/Dev combo? Lens/Film combo?
Maybe that is part of the mystery, but it looks to be the case to me.
Obviously being able to tweak each and every exposure and develop each sheet individually helps a negative to reach its optimum, rather than just averaging out the whole roll of film, but it also seems to be more than that. 

Anyway, as usual another aside, however if you have any thoughts, please,  leave some comments!

Sorrow
Not a great picture, but were it not for the fact it is obviously sculpted,
you could almost believe that those were eyelashes instead of cobwebs
and there was skin underneath the lichen.
Sinar F, Schneider 150mm f5.6 Symmar-S, Ilford FP4+, Barry Thornton 2-Bath

Sorrow 2
Same subject, different angle, different camera.
Rolleiflex T with Rolleinar ~1
Kodak TMX 100, Barry Thornton 2-bath.

See what I mean about tonal compression?
They're not great examples, and obviously there are enormous variables, but that is just my experience. I think, were I to invest in a Hasselblad or 'proper' Rollei, then I would have to say I might well notice a difference. Certainly looking at some of the great old 'proper' Rollei and Hasselblad photos out there, there seems to be a good breadth of greys and a tonal smoothness which is very acceptable, so maybe I am talking bollocks . . . .
Anyway, we've been sidetracked . . . onwards troops . . this way . . .

So the LF Madness and a hunger for something other, led me to purchase a Sinar F and a Schneider 150mm Symmar-S (the cheapest modern lens I could buy secondhand). I then obviously needed a tripod - and this is where bottom feeding came in . . a Linhof Twin Shank Pro tripod (see photo below) - £35, closely followed by a Gitzo Series 5 low profile head that once belonged to the British Museum - £25. Together I can guarantee you that that combo can hold the heaviest camera you can throw at it. I was once able to make an exposure with the column fully raised (nearly 8 feet high) in the wind with the Sinar atop, fully extended with the 6" extension rail and angled. Not exactly the lightest or least unweildly combination, but it did the job beautifully.
The tripod must be about 30 years old, same with the head, and they both operate beautifully.
You can still buy parts for Linhof tripods too if anyone has one that they need to sort - quality engineering from a golden age.

You call that a tripod?
Linhof Twin Shank Pro Tripod in action.
The ladder is optional.
Oh, and that is me in our (oh so difficult to wallpaper) hall btw.

However, having nearly killed myself by doing a 7 mile hillwalk carrying the above (you can imagine can't you . . I didn't take the ladder though .  .that would have been a bit mental and besides I have never seen a hillwalker carrying a ladder!) I realised that something less weighty was required. Beavering away and saving my pennies, I came up with a (relatively) lightweight kit: Wista DX, Gitzo Series 2 with Series 2 head, Kodak Ektar 203mm, Schneider 90mm Angulon. Cost, respectively: £300. £120, £45, £90. Less than the price of a Leitz 50mm Summicron . . .

And that is where I am today. Good to go and itching to get out now the Winter is moving on.

There are other factors where LF tops everything else, namely in being able to control pretty much everything that you see within the image. Converging verticals, depth of field, weird out of focus areas, pin-point sharpness, you name it, you can do it, it just takes time, and rather a lot of it. You can even make something more Pictorial rather than just a straight renditioning of 'fact'.

The Garden
You could probably have made this with a 35mm camera,
but I quite like the olde-worldy look the Angulon has given it.
Adox CHS 100, Schneider 90mm Angulon

Sometimes under the dark cloth (nuthin' fancy . . two T-Shirts inside each other!) I think to myself, why the hell am I bothering when I could have done it with a Rollei, or even a 35mm camera? 

And then the madness overtakes me again and I feel the weight of Adams and Weston, Bullock and Evans and White and Strand upon my back, and I make my exposure and take down the camera, head off, spy something that takes my interest and go through the whole process of setting up the camera again, inserting the film holder, removing the dark slide, timing my exposure, packing up everything again and moving on. 

And I feel that all is right with the world actually. 

It is a significantly different feeling to normal photography (whatever that is) but it is a feeling I enjoy. 

I remember once being in a beautiful place with the Sinar. It was mid-March so the permafrost was still in the ground. Everywhere I looked there were icicles. I set up the camera, moved down the hillside to retrieve my hat which had blown away, and making my way back, looked up as sunshine dowsed my camera and tripod and the T-shirts flapped away in the wind, and I thought to myself, that this could be a scene from the making of any of the great photographs that I love looking at, and I think from that point I was hooked.

Permafrost
The scan hasn't done the print any favours.
Ilford Delta 100 (EI 64), Kodak Xtol (200ml stock+200ml Water).
Sinar F, Schneider 150mm f5.6 Symmar-S

So, there y'go. I will maybe be detailing my trips on a semi-regular basis, just because I can.

Over and oot playmates - be good, and if you can't be good be careful . . .

Keep your fingers crossed for me for this weekend - it's supposed to be Sun, Shite and Showers . . .

As usual, thanks for reading and God Bless.