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  • Accessible Adventures: What to do with a spare day near Salzburg, Austria

    It isn’t always possible to spend weeks on end exploring an area; sometimes you only have a day or two. It might be that you’re passing through on the way to somewhere else or in town for something special.

    There are so many opportunities to make the most of what is in an area, but sometimes if you’re only there for a short amount of time, you wouldn’t even know half of what is there just waiting to be explored.

    Achievable, accessible adventure is about creating opportunities where possible. In this series, we’ve put together our ultimate, quick and easy to follow must do’s in some of the world’s most incredible locations.

    Endless views in the Hochkönig region

    Endless views in the Hochkönig region

    Salzburg is close to the border with Germany. The city has a beautifully preserved historical center and was actually the birthplace of Mozart.

    It is also the gateway to the Austrian and German Alps, being well under two hours by car to many of the world’s most incredible mountaineering, hiking and adventure pursuits with unrivalled skiing and winter sports to boot in the colder months of the year.

    If you find yourself in Salzburg, an easy and quick journey by car can transport you into another world of amazing and challenging adventures. We have spent a lot of time in Austria and the German Alps and have found ourselves endlessly wanting to return as much as possible, because there are so many amazing hikes and landscapes to be taken in.

    If you’re a glutton for punishment, there are also plenty of hills and mountains that will give you a run for your money and test your fitness, making you work for the views you get!

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    This guide will provide you with potential options, and please note it isn’t possible to do every single one of these in a day. You’ll most likely just find yourself wondering when you can book a trip to head back for a longer adventure.

    Table of Contents

    Idea One: drive to Hochkönig for a mountain adventure

    Drive time from Salzburg: roughly 1 hour (77km) to Mülhbach am Hochkönig

    The options for skiing in winter in the Hochkönig region are incredible.

    The options for skiing in winter in the Hochkönig region are incredible.

    Head to the village of Mühlbach where you’ll find it very easy to find the tourism information center. You’ll probably note, we usually provide hiking and trail maps for all of the hikes we suggest, but it simply isn’t needed for this area.

    We’d advise you to have a base map downloaded for the area just for your peace of mind and navigation. However, a quick visit to the tourism information center and you’ll be leaving armed with detailed maps and information on the area and what hiking options are available to you for all different levels of expereince.

    We have found the hiking in Austria to be incredibly well signposted; you’ll notice route numbers on white and red striped signs which are all structured in the same way in the region – any maps that are provided from the visitor center will be easy to follow.

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    There is so much to explore and see in this area, some of our favorite hikes start from the Arthurhaus which is up in the Hochkönig mountains. The Arthurhaus is a great base to have something to eat at a traditional cabin and many of the hiking routes in the are start from here.

    If you’re feeling more adventurous, there are also some fantastic via ferrata routes on these mountains, information of which can be found in the information center in town. It is also worth noting that this area, due to its altitude, gets a significant snowfall each and every year. The hiking routes can really only be attempted in Summer and Autumn conditions.

    If visiting off season, it is still worth visiting the information center for some ideas on what is possible, and they will be able to guide you with current weather conditions in the mountains.

    If you’re visiting in the height of winter and skiing is your thing, there are a wealth of lifts and runs throughout the area. From downhill to cross-country, the options are absolutely endless with incredible views. There are also plenty of snowshoeing routes to be found.

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    Idea Two: drive to Berchtesgaden, take the boat on lake Königssee to St Bartholomew’s church and see the Eiskapelle then take a scenic drive along the Rossfeldpanoramastrasse

    Drive time from Salzburg: roughly 40 minutes (26km) to Berchtesgaden

    Berchtesgaden National Park is home to some of the most beautiful scenery in Germany, where it is possible to have some incredible adventures. Housing big mountains, beautiful alpine lakes and hidden ice chapels, it makes for a really wonderful experience.

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    Drive toSchönau am Königssee where you’ll park up and walk down to catch the boat across the lake to the church to begin your hike to the Eiskapelle.

    Once you’ve bought your ticket, you’ll wait in line – in the summer months, there seems to be quite an endless stream of boats to take you across the water, and in quieter times, there is a boat roughly once every 30 minutes.

    The boat ride in its own right is a really fun experience, with lots of information on the way, beautiful views and some good German humor in the mix as you make your way across the lake to the church. You’ll want to have your camera in hand as you head over; the mountains surrounding you are truly jaw dropping. The journey itself takes about 35 minutes.

    The beautiful views just before the Eiskapelle.

    The beautiful views just before the Eiskapelle.

    Once you arrive, you’ll see a whole selection of signs that have different hiking routes marked on them, you want to take the one for the Eiskapelle. The hike to this spectacular glacial cave located at the foot of the Watzmann Mountain is well worth the effort and would say it is rated as easy if you have a moderate level of fitness.

    This hike is best suited to Summer and Autumn and if you plan to visit at any other time, it is best to ring the tourism info office to find out if there are any risks of avalanche etc.

    The Eiskapelle is marked on maps, after a while (once you’ve come out of the forest and are a little way up a stony track which is gaining height as you walk) you’ll encounter a sign saying that the trail is no longer maintained.

    None the less, the trail should be fairly easy to follow, and this will take you right up to the Eiskapelle. Please note, that if you are doing this hike earlier in the year, snow cover may not allow you to see this, or be able to go inside. If you can though, it is well worth it and an amazing experience.

    Once you’re done, head back to the boat – but be sure to make sure you make the last one which is before 5pm, which is why we’d suggest setting off earlier in the day to make sure you allow yourself enough time to enjoy.

    With photo stops, leaving yourself 3 hours to enjoy this hike is really going to give you enough time and realistically get back in time. If visiting in winter, it is still possible to take the boat, and it is also still possible to do some winter walking in the area but it is best to speak to the tourism office about your visit to work out what would be best for you depending on the current conditions.

    The number of theTourist Information of Schönau a. Königssee is:+49-8652-1760. After you’ve arrived back on dry land and headed to your car, the Rossfeldpanoramastrasse is only a short drive away at only 20 or so minutes’ drive (and 20km).

    Please note that this is a toll road and you’ll need to pay to drive along at the toll booth at either end – this was 8 Euros the last time we were along the road, please ring the tourism information center to find current prices.

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    It doesn’t matter what time of year you visit, the views along this road are always spectacular. In winter, you’ll be transported to an incredible snow-covered wonderland and in summer, alpine views stretch for miles and miles from the high vantage points and stop offs along the way.

    This road makes for a spectacular experience towards sunset and you’ll be stopping often to marvel at the view. It is also possible to take many of the hiking routes from the roadside and parking bays, so if you have time, be sure to explore the area.

    In winter, it is also possible to travel along the road, and there is some great skiing and cross-country routes to be had here. Please speak to the tourism information center for up to date routes and maps.

    It is so easy to make the most of even a short visit to a place, and we hope that our ideas really work as a starting point for you to realize what is out there and plan some of your own adventures.

    There is one thing we’re absolutely certain of, you’ll want to return for a much longer adventure when you see just what there is to see and do and experience in this incredible area of Europe.

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  • How Adventure Helped Me Heal My Eating Disorder & BDD & Change My Life Beyond Measure

    I wanted to write a piece this week that touches on some very personal parts of my life. I’m going to talk about my struggles with mental health throughout my teenage years and twenties and how adventure has helped me to really grow into myself, develop my confidence and also in turn help me to turn my life into something that I really enjoy, and look forward to. I’m also going to talk about how this has actually helped me in my business as well. Especially when I think about how I am now in my business, the centre of my brand, and where I came from just a few years ago, in the throes of Body Dysmorphia and an eating disorder – it could not be more of a flip turn. For me, the fact that I feel comfortable writing about this and sharing my story in such detail shows me just how much I’ve healed – and getting into adventure and showing myself just what is possible outside of my comfort zone has been a huge factor in that. When I look at the change that has happened inside and out from where I was at that much younger version of myself, to where I am now and what I’m doing, I barely recognize that old version of me, but she was important in the journey I’ve been on of self-discovery and self-love that has brought me to where I am.

    As a kid, I’d never felt particularly attractive. I wasn’t very popular, and I liked to spend quite a lot of time on my own. At school, I was laughed at for a huge number of reasons. I was too fat, when I lost weight, I was too thin. I had spots. Apparently, I walked like a penguin. I sounded posh compared to everyone else. I could spell. I lived on a nice street and that made me apparently ‘better than everyone else’. Apparently, I had a weird shaped head. I had crappy trainers because my parents didn’t have a huge amount of money and they chose to spend it on good things like feeding us. They were all really good reasons to pick on me, and we’re all easy targets of things that would just make me feel awful. It seemed like everything I did I just couldn’t win. There was always something that I was doing wrong and it was then, at about age 11 that I developed a complex where I felt like I wasn’t enough. I felt like I couldn’t speak to my parents about it, they loved me, but they didn’t really understand. They told me that I needed to develop a thick skin, and I just didn’t feel like I was getting the support I needed. At the time, it seemed that telling a child to develop a thick skin was really a viable source of emotional support – but I needed a lot more.

    Childhood me…

    Childhood me…

    I found school incredibly hard. I was incredibly intelligent in certain subjects and found others hard. My teachers would make me feel that because I wasn’t the world’s best mathematician, and instead was good at the arts, that I wouldn’t be able to make anything of my life and this further added to my feelings of not being good enough.

    There was one particular event that I can remember that really triggered me into a couple of different things. I was walking home from school one day, and a boy who had been making fun of me a lot over the last few weeks started following me and telling me how ugly I was and how I should go and kill myself. I was in floods of tears as he and his friends all laughed at me as I walked away. I remember I went home that day, trying to hide my tears as I went up to my room and looked in the mirror and thought, ‘you’re so incredibly ugly, nobody will ever love you.’ I looked at my stomach, which was perfectly normal for a child my age, but all I could see was fat. I decided at that point that if I dieted, I’d somehow be more acceptable. That maybe people would like me.

    Over the next two years, I developed anorexia, which I managed to keep hidden to myself for that entire time. I would take a packed lunch to school, and I wouldn’t eat it and just bring it home, hide it for a few hours and then replace it in the fridge later as if it was a new lunch. By the end of the week, I’d throw the moldy sandwiches away ready to repeat this again the following week. My life became obsessed with calorie counting and what I ate. I told my mum I was on a strict diet and would go crazy at her if she ever made something for dinner that I considered to be a bad food. I weighed and tracked everything. I started skipping more meals until some days I’d eat absolutely nothing apart from a glass of diet soda, to keep me feeling full. One Christmas, my mum asked me to lick the stamps to go onto the cards we’d be sending out. I freaked out when I learnt that there were calories in the stamps.

    As time went by, I’d become very good at hiding my eating disorder, and as well as anorexia, I’d developed Body Dysmorphia Disorder as well. To everyone else, I just looked like a normal girl, by this age, 16, who had achieved great success in her exams and was heading to college. Behind closed doors I was showering myself with nothing but hatred. I was convinced people were laughing at me and judging me as I walked down the street. I was so tied up in my own head that I could barely concentrate on anything else in my life, other than hating myself.

    Until I was around 27, I fluctuated between various different weights and had three terrifying experiences with anorexia. I’d get so low in weight that I’d start to faint and become very ill. Then I’d have intense amounts of time where I’d binge eat to the point where I’d make myself sick. One of the moments in my life that I thought would have been a wakeup call was when I was rushed to hospital and died for a few seconds in an ambulance as I’d gone into hypoglycemic shock due to the fact that’d I’d been living on a cup of vegetable stock, three times a day for about three weeks. I’d always felt that somehow, if I could get myself to look a certain way, that people would think I was enough. Or that I’d have control over my life. There were also the relationships, and I’d go from one bad relationship to the next. One of those was with a man who, when I started to gain a little weight due to eating again, actually told me he preferred my anorexic body.

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    I’d spent my first few years after University working in London as a photographer’s assistant and then started out my career as a photographer. I had devoted a lot of my time working on highly technical rigs with still life photographers and I felt like this was the route for me to take. Through those first few years of working, I’d spend a lot of my time trying to not eat through shoots. These were incredibly long, demanding days and I’d often find that by the end of it, I’d be close to feeling like I was going to die. I relied heavily on stimulants to get me through. My mindset was awful at this time, but I just concentrated on being successful. I was deeply unhappy, struggling with anxiety, depression, an eating disorder and BDD.

    When I met Matt, I was a tiny, shadow of myself. I was lacking in confidence. We met when I went for an interview for some freelance work at an agency he was working at. We clicked very quickly and realized in spending time together that we had a lot of shared interests and days would feel like they became weeks when we were talking late into the night. When I finally plucked up the courage to tell him about what I was going through, I was incredibly nervous. His support was truly a turning point for me. At last, I felt like I had someone that I could really talk to about how I was feeling. I’d tell him how I felt when people walked past us laughing to themselves; how I felt that was about me. It felt good to get it out there, and it also felt good to have things brought back round to me from someone who could see it from another perspective. It was through Matt’s support that I decided to get therapy and I began CBT with an incredible therapist who has helped me immeasurably.

    At the same time as this, Matt and I set up our own studio, where we handled both my photographic work as a still life photographer and his work as a photographic retoucher. We we’re working with some of the biggest names in the advertising world. But that didn’t seem to matter to me, because in my head, I was struggling so much with anxiety and depression, and trying to work through that, that I just felt like it was going to come crashing down around me. On the outside, I was a successful business owner, I had everything. I had a loving partner, a gorgeous apartment in London, a studio in central London. But I was unhappy. I was constantly worried. I stopped myself from trying new things in the business because I just always assumed that nobody would want to know, because I wasn’t enough. I stumped my own growth considerably in this time. My relationships with friends suffered because I just felt like they wouldn’t want to be around me.

    A selection of my still life advertising work, which couldn’t feel like more of a lifetime away…

    A selection of my still life advertising work, which couldn’t feel like more of a lifetime away…

    Then my dad died of cancer and I was absolutely beside myself with grief. It had been a long, drawn out process of seeing him go from this wonderful, intelligent, kind, caring and funny man to a shadow of his vibrancy. Cancer removed my dad from his body, took him away and threw him away before we could say how much we loved him. Cancer stripped him of his love for life. This time had been horrible; my hair had started to fall out, and my anxiety had worsened due to everything we were going through as a family. One day, whilst we were going through his belongings, my mum handed me a little box. I knew what was in it instantly. My dad had been an avid traveler in the 1970’s and he always showed me a seahorse that he picked up from a flea market in Morocco. I used to hang onto all of his stories – of sleeping on rooftops with music playing in the background. Of the markets and the vibrant colours. Of the haggling and all of the incredible things he told me he’d seen. I used to look up to him as this explorer. To me, he was just the same as Shackleton or any of the great explorers. When I held the seahorse in my hand, I heard a voice in my head say, ‘just start walking’.

    My wonderful dad and I…

    My wonderful dad and I…

    I listened; it was too hard to ignore. Soon after that, we started going for hikes. We’d already been doing lots of urban walking in the evenings, but this was different. One of our first hikes was to the New Forest in England. It was the longest hike I’d ever done. In fact, it was probably the only hike I’d ever done. As we got into the hike, the sun shining through the trees in a way that seemed to soothe and talk to me, I started to feel a wave over me. It felt as though some of the fog and depression from losing my dad lifted. I felt lighter. I started to feel like I was in the moment. I didn’t even notice that I was in the moment, because I was so busy loosing myself in taking photographs of the grass and leaves and touching them as I brushed past with my fingers. It sounds like such a magical and romantic moment, and it was. That hike formed a fascination for me. I returned to the studio on the Monday afterwards feeling refreshed. I was beginning not to enjoy my chosen photographic path at all, but somehow, I felt like I had the strength to move through the week. Tasks that had seemed difficult on Friday seemed somewhat easy come Monday. This was not the usual feeling that I got on a Monday, and I started to wonder what else being outside could do for me.

    Over the coming months, I’d spend hours obsessively finding new places that I’d never heard of that we could go hike. These hikes started off easily and developed into more challenging routes. I couldn’t get enough. The relief that I found from being in nature was like the therapy I’d never been able to find. Being mindful and being in the moment became the thing that I looked forward to, and that I longed for. Due to the fact that I was busy shooting most of the week, our hikes had to be contained to weekends, but I felt like I needed my fix of the outdoors – or rather, that mindfulness that it gave me. So, I started looking at how I could apply the same kind of mindfulness techniques to my work as a photographer that I was able to use in the outdoors. I made sure that each task was broken down into smaller segments and treated as a series of things that needed to be completed. I concentrated on one thing at once until I was ready to move onto the next thing. I didn’t worry myself with what was racing through my head at that particular moment for the next thing, and instead concentrated on what was actually happening in my head right then and there. Over the next couple of months, even though I was losing a lot of the love I’d originally had for photography, the shoots that I produced during the starts of my adventures and practicing mindfulness were some of the most technically brilliant pieces of work I produced in my time as a still life photographer.

    We quickly began heading off on longer trips. We decided to turn holidays into adventure holidays. Turning up at the start, I think back now, we were woefully under prepared. Thinking that these altitude things would just be a piece of cake. The length of that hike would be no problem because we could do that in England. The hikes on our first few adventure trips kicked us back into our places. It didn’t matter though, because I was in love with how I felt and who I became in the outdoors.

    When I look at my past and now to working on campaigns with the likes of Sweaty Betty, it feels like whole lifetimes of change apart…

    When I look at my past and now to working on campaigns with the likes of Sweaty Betty, it feels like whole lifetimes of change apart…

    For many years, my BDD had brought me to a place where I barely wanted to leave the house. I spent many times curled under my duvet hoping that it would just swallow me up. I felt like there was no place for me in the world. I would wear so much make up that I was barely even recognizable. I’d spend absolutely loads of money on beauty products, hoping that they’d be the answer to make me feel like I deserved to be alive. To me, I was ugly. I was actually the ugliest person to have ever lived and I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be around me. I used to cry myself to sleep some nights asking the universe why it had made me so ugly and what I’d done to deserve this. I never received my answer, but I kept getting worse. I had panic attacks when I had to leave the house without makeup on. I couldn’t bear to see pictures of me. I’d dread nights out where some pictures might end up on Facebook. I’d spend my time walking around in my head, fortune telling and predicting what people were thinking about me. I was living in a prison inside my head and it was getting to a point where I couldn’t handle it anymore.

    When I was outdoors, I felt relief from this. I was so in the moment that all thoughts of how I looked seemed to disappear. I felt a smile on my face. I felt a smile inside – one that I couldn’t locate, but it seemed to make me feel complete. For the first time in my life I felt complete.

    I remember those first hikes felt seductive to me. I felt like part of my spirit had been brought home to my body. I felt beautiful. I felt the wind gently brush over my arms in the same way that it brushed over the trees and I felt equal for the first time in my life. I reacted in the same way as the trees did to the wind – I’d follow their lead, and I’d often find myself dancing slightly. I felt in flow, I felt in tune. I started to love my body. I started to treat my body with respect. I started to talk to her in the same kind of kindness I experienced when I felt soothed by nature.

    I started to develop confidence. I found myself taking and making meetings that before I’d shy away from. I started to feel more upbeat and positive about my life. My confidence was really starting to have an impact on both my mental health in general, but also on my business. I started saying yes and no when I wanted to.

    Then I found mountains. Our first trip where we were mainly going to explore and climb mountains was one of the biggest advancements I had, both in the outdoors and with my confidence. I found myself limiting my movements by saying I couldn’t do something, and then, low and behold, I found I’d managed to exactly what I thought I could not. This had a huge impact on my confidence, as I started to realize that I could do so many things if I focused and believed in myself. As well as the confidence I was growing in my abilities, I found that I was spending less and less time thinking about my appearance. Or rather obsessing over it. This felt so freeing. I found myself choosing not to wear make up on some days. On other days I chose to leave my hair to dry naturally and curl as it wished. It didn’t matter when the sun shone on my skin, I felt beautiful. It didn’t matter because I felt embraced by nature. I felt a tingle inside me as my cheeks lit up with emotion so much of the time in this period. It was a feeling that I hadn’t spent much time experiencing before. I found myself curious to explore new things in the outdoors and spent most of my time thinking about what was happening to me in the moment. It was at that point that I realized that the feeling I was experiencing was joy.

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    We soon made the decision to, at any cost, go after the dream that was becoming a shared dream, of making travel and adventure our fulltime. This was when our photographic partnership began, and later, the blog under the same name. To begin with, we had no idea how we were going to make it work, but it didn’t matter. We just needed to be because the difference we saw in both of us whilst we were in the outdoors and the love that we created by creating together in the outdoors was simply undeniable.

    I genuinely don’t think that if I’d still have been deep into BDD and my eating disorder and anxiety that I’d have had the confidence to start realizing just how real this could be and what we could create. Instead of all the things that I was worried about, I chose to focus on the people who’s photography I looked up to as examples of what was possible. The more time we spent outdoors, at first making this our side hustle and then making it our fulltime, I felt free. I felt confident, I felt like this was my calling; to be showing the beauty of the planet we live on, telling stories about it and spending my time on adventures all over the world that truly pushed me out of my comfort zone. Anything felt possible and the idea of limits seemed to fall away the more and more I got out there.

    The more confidence I developed, the bolder the moves I was taking. I was aiming for and booking meetings with big potential clients. Clients that at one point in my life I would never even have dreamed of working with. I soon hired a development coach and we worked through to elevate what we were doing even more. It was incredible to see just how much the confidence I’d developed in the outdoors had moved my BDD so it wasn’t even in my mind and I was able to concentrate on growing a truly incredible business that I loved.

    Up until now, I’d focused on photographing landscapes, but as we worked on this more and more, we started to introduce ourselves into our work; our clients were extremely excited by the idea of seeing us more involved in our stories and our brand. This filled me with such intense dread. In some ways, I spent quite a bit of time resisting this because after spending so much time working in advertising fashion, I just felt like I didn’t look like any of the people that used to be in those ads. All of my limiting beliefs started to return. Who was I to do this? Would anyone really want to work with us if I was in the images? It turned out that, like so many of the beliefs I had, that I was wrong. The difference was, that in the past, I would never have even let myself see that I was wrong. Because I never would have tried. A couple of years previously, I wouldn’t have been able to look at a picture of myself. Now I’ve been in countless campaigns based on stories and expeditions we’ve created. That would never have happened if I didn’t put myself out there. If I didn’t face those fears and worries.

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    Recently, we took part in the Kendal Mountain Festival and I was honored that we were asked to speak at the Lowe Alpine Friday Night Adventures about how to make your life more adventurous. Getting up on that stage was difficult, sharing our lives was difficult, having those 200 people looking right at us nodding at our words was incredible but also terrifying. Yet I think back to how I was a few years ago, and there was no way I would have ever had the confidence to do that.

    When I think about the difference that finding adventure has had on my life, I can’t even begin to explain what it has allowed me to open inside myself. Today I write this feeling completely healed from BDD and my eating disorder. I’m confident, I see the light in life, and I couldn’t be happier doing what I’m doing. The passion I feel for what I’m doing now makes me feel truly elated. The confidence that hiking and pushing myself outside of my comfort zone has been an incredible gift that keeps developing the more I do this. The abilities that the confidence I’ve gained has given me in my business and how I approach what I believe is possible has changed beyond measure. The mindfulness that I developed through being in nature has helped me cope with many situations in my life, that has improved both my mental health and business in ways I could never even explain. The comfort in my own skin and the ease I feel in my body now, well, my body feels like home.

    Nature has provided me a home that I never knew existed. It has taught me so much. It has taught me everything. It has allowed me to become the person I am today. It has allowed me to expand, stretch and morph. It has allowed me to become kind, compassionate and giving. It has allowed me to build a wonderful life with the man I love. It has allowed me to build a life and business beyond my wildest dreams.

    Then verses now…

    Then verses now…

    It has allowed me to find happiness.

    It has allowed me to find ease.

    It has allowed me to feel like I’m home.

    I hate to think where I would be today if I hadn’t have found adventure.

  • Training for Altitude Adventures: Part Two

    Our Summer trips to the Alps have become somewhat of a tradition, and this year we were fortunate to visit Switzerland in partnership with the Jungfraujoch Top of Europe Railway and also Zermatt Tourism. In the same trip we also headed to the Gran Paradiso National Park in northern Italy. One thing all of these places had in common was that they gave us the opportunity to hike and generally spend time at higher altitudes that we were used to.

    This was a calculated move and this trip to the Alps was the first step on what we are calling our ‘Altitude Project’. The ultimate plan is that we want to produce a body of work in a high-altitude environment (and yes, that is deliberately vague for now! We will announce the full project in due course). However, whilst we could fast-track our plans for this project, we don’t want to take this approach. It’s not enough for us to simply go somewhere high and experience it – survive it, even. We are photographers first and foremost and ultimately we want to produce the best work we can in a given environment. For us, that means that rather than just enduring an environment, we need to get used to it, work out how it will impact us and therefore be able to enjoy the time we spend there and consequently produce the best images we can whilst there.

    Our plan for the ‘Altitude Project’ is to take small steps higher and higher, building our experience as we go. By the time we’re ready to embark on the final ‘Altitude Project’ expedition, we’ll have spent enough time in high, extreme environments to know what to expect, to anticipate the difficulties we’ll encounter and therefore work as efficiently and as best we can.

    We wrote about our experiences of training for and experiencing high altitudes in the Alps here and, if you haven’t already read this piece, it would make sense to read through it before continuing with this one.

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    A few months after our trip to the Alps, another opportunity presented itself, this time in the form of a Trip to the Sierra Nevada in California in partnership with Visit California. The Sierras, along with the neighbouring White Mountains seem relatively unknown to many people we speak to in Europe and this is an enormous shame: they are a truly vast range of mountains beginning a relatively short drive north east of Los Angeles. They are home to several peaks over 4000m, including Mt. Whitney – the tallest mountain in the ‘Lower 48’ states. I won’t go into a great deal of detail about the specific hikes we did in the Sierras in this article – that’s all in the piece linked to above – but suffice it to say the mountains and landscape there are genuinely spectacular and we are hoping to return there soon.

    As well as giving us the opportunity to work on a great travel piece, the Sierras also provided a logical next step in our altitude training. In many way, our experience there was a continuation of what we’d started in the Alps a few months earlier, but that doesn’t mean the trip was all plain sailing: We encountered some new challenges and unexpected difficulties along our journey and by the end we really felt we had progressed.

    Before we go much further, let’s take a detour to recap a little about why we are doing this at all. What exactly happens as you climb higher and how this can affect you? Basically, as you gain height relative to sea level, the amount of oxygen in the air around you drops and continues to drop the higher you go. Our bodies, of course, need oxygen to function, so when you reduce the amount of it available, your body cannot run as efficiently as it can at sea level. The condition of the tissues in your body being deprived of oxygen is called ‘hypoxia’. Beyond a certain altitude – generally taken as about 8,000m – the level of oxygen is depleted to the point where there is simply not enough to run your body and it basically starts to shut down. To die. The sections of the world’s highest peaks above 8,000m are often referred to as the ‘Death Zone’ for this very reason and climbers ascending up to and above this altitude will often use bottled oxygen to aid their climb.

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    Hypoxia brings with it a range of symptoms. Generally speaking, you start to feel fatigued as you get higher. You might find yourself quickly out of breath and yawning after a few steps. Climbing a gentle slope might become a massive effort. Beyond the physical side, it can affect you mentally – your judgement and reflexes can seem slowed or numbed. Beyond this, nausea, dizziness, disorientation and even vomiting can set it. In extreme cases, this can develop into High Altitude Cerebal Oedema (HACE), which can prove fatal. Broadly speaking, the higher you go, the worse the symptoms you can expect are. In all cases, the best advice for dealing with altitude sickness is to get to a lower altitude (there are also certain medicines that can help, but this subject is way beyond the scope of this article).

    So far, the science is pretty straight-forward: we can accurately predict how oxygen levels fall with altitude and we know the level above which the human body starts to shut down due to lack of oxygen. We also know the symptoms hypoxia can bring on and how to deal with them. However, things get more complex once you start to look at how these conditions effect individuals. Different people will respond to altitude in very different and sometimes unexpected ways. There are many factors at play here including general health, genetics and experience. What’s more, the same individual may respond very differently to altitude at different times. Put simply, whilst the basic scientific facts are all straight forward, how people respond in these situations is varied and ‘messy’ (for example, on an almost super-human level, it’s been shown that the ‘Death Zone’ is not an absolute barrier: Everest was successfully summited without supplemental oxygen in 1978. This was once thought to be physically impossible!).

    Altitude training is not culminative. Any physical benefits we develop on a given trip will not stay with us indefinitely. So, again, why do we bother? Why don’t we just concentrate on our general fitness? The simple answer is experience. The more you experience altitude, the more you will experience the full range of possible effects – from severe to not so severe. We believe that experience like this is key to making more challenging trips work. If my experience tells me that I tend to feel tired quickly, then I’ll know not to get overly worried when fatigue seems to set in unusually quickly. Our aim on these trips is to build up a nuanced portfolio of experiences so we can be better prepared to tackle the challenges that progressively higher altitudes will throw at us.

    Training for Altitude Adventures: Part Two - Image Asset

    Back to the Sierras and I’ll get one thing out of the way straight away: We didn’t reach the top of Mt. Whitney this time. In fact, we set off on the trip with the intention of not attempting any summits. For us, the real attraction of this trip was to be able spend prolonged periods of time at higher altitude. Whilst we got up high in the Alps, we were typically coming back down to lower altitudes at night (the exception here was Gran Paradiso where we had camped at around 2,000m). The Sierras would see us spending much more time higher up. Pretty much all of the main hikes we undertook – with the notable exception of our day spent in the Alabama Hills – started well above 2,000m, with some of the trails even starting above 3,000m. It’s true that our visits to the Jungfraujoch (3,454m) and Matterhorn Glacier Paradise (3,883m) in Switzerland took us substantially higher than anywhere we went in the Sierras, but these were brief visits to train or cable car stations with minimal walking and did not involve any hiking. The upshot is that whilst we did go higher in the Alps, the hiking we did in the Sierras was generally at higher altitudes – so we averaged more time at higher altitudes in the Sierras than we did in the Alps.

    The other attraction of the Sierra trip was that it would give us more of a chance to sleep at higher altitude. The general recommendation for altitude mountaineering is that you hike high and sleep low – which basically means that after a day of hiking or climbing you descend to a lower base to sleep. However, this isn’t always possible and even when it is, ‘low’ can be a relative term. If you’ve been climbing to say, 4,000m then a camp at 3,000m counts as low, but in the wider scheme of things it certainly is not low. It might sound odd or almost comical that you want to practice sleeping, but altitude can alter your sleep patterns, so yes, in this case getting some more experience of sleeping at altitude seemed like a very valid exercise!

    Prior to our trip to the Alps, we had prepared extensively. We had been hiking as much as we could in preparation and had even undertaken training sessions at The Altitude Centre – a training facility in London where the air pressure is dropped to mimic high altitudes and induce hypoxia. We’d both credited this training for us doing so well on our hikes in the Alps. We’d hoped to pick up this routine again in advance of our trip to the Sierras, but unfortunately work commitments and deadlines got in the way and we found ourselves with far less time to train that we had hoped for. We were still hiking regularly before we left for America, but much less so than we had wanted.

    Training for Altitude Adventures: Part Two - Image Asset

    We hit a snag at the outset of our trip that would unfortunately turn out to undermine some of our plans: Shortly after arriving in LA I started to feel like I had a cold coming on. This is unusual. I generally don’t get colds and it’s been well over a year since my last one. We had a few days before we were due to head to the Sierras, so I hoped it would clear. It didn’t. By the time we got arrived at Glacier Lodge in the Palisades the night before our first big planned hike, I had a full-on head cold and Fay was starting to come down with one too. I can only guess I picked it up on our long-haul flight from London to LA. The cold did not stop us hiking, but it did seriously impact our performance. At altitude, the symptoms seemed amplified and the cold made us feel much more sluggish than normal. This was a real disappointment: We’d been planning for this trip for so long, and to have it undermined by something as trivial as a head cold was certainly a shame, but it was none the less our reality. It’s fair to say that the cold hit us both hard, but despite this, we still continued with our planned hikes and, whilst we may not have gotten as far with some of them as we had perhaps hoped, we still covered all of the routes we had intended to.

    Our illness, combined with a sudden cold turn in the weather also meant that we had to take the decision to abandon one of our plans to camp at a place called Horseshoe Meadows. This is a developed campsite at around 3,000m near to Mt. Whitney and we had hope to use it as a base for a few days of hiking. Given the freezing weather and the fact that we both felt far from 100%, we decided to pass on the camping, but still return to the site for the day hikes we had planned. Again, this was a disappointment, but we were still able to enjoy the routes we had planned as day hikes – so not a total wash out!

    On the subject of aches and pains, we both found that these were amplified in the thin air. On one particular trail I developed a headache. As I experienced no other symptoms of altitude sickness, I believe this was more to do with dehydration. We’d been hiking for several hours when it set in and it suddenly dawned on me that I had not been sipping water through the hike as I normally would. In very cold environment, it can be tricky to remember to keep drinking water as you don’t feel thirsty as quickly as you would in a warm desert, say. As soon as I realised, I made sure I stepped up my water intake – I was suddenly aware of just how thirsty I was. I’ve been in this situation before, and I know that normally the headache would ease up fairly quickly after I started hydrating properly. But this one didn’t. When I was younger I suffered from migraines and I can truly say that this felt just like a migraine – right down to the starts of photo-sensitivity (i.e. light hurting my eyes) kicking in. Fortunately a combo of sweet and salty snacks along with plenty of water eventually got it into check, but the main takeaway point was that the pain was basically gone by the time we had driven back down the mountain (the trailhead for this particular hike – the Little Lakes Valley – was over 3,000m). Was the headache amplified by altitude? I don’t have any real evidence either way, but I can say that it felt a lot stronger than anything I had experienced in a long time or since, so I can only assume the thin air played a part.

    On a more quantifiable level, the Sierras posed several practical issues: First up was the temperature difference. The Owens Valley, at the foot of the mountains was generally quite pleasant, with warm daytime temperatures often over 20C. The general rule is that you lose 1C for every 100m you ascend, so the temperature at trailheads was much cooler – even dipping into minus figures at times. This mean we started to encounter snow and ice. Whilst I certainly think it’s wonderful that you can start your day in a desert and within an hour’s drive be at a trail head in snowfall, this does mean carrying lots of clothes. Layering was certainly key and we often found ourselves using our car to change into almost completely different outfits for our hikes. Further to this, UV exposure increases as you gain height, so even on a chilly overcast day, it’s essential to apply high factor sun screen.

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    The Sierras are also active bear territory. As a European, bears are not something I had given much prior thought to (though there certainly are bears in parts of the Alps and the Pyrenees as well as Scandinavia), but they are present in the Sierras in large numbers and rightly so, there are in-depth requirements for how food must be transported and stored by hikers both for their own and the bear’s protection. In practice this means that hikers planning to camp must carry food and scented items in a suitable bear-proof container and trail-head car parks contain ‘Bear Lockers’ – essentially armoured cupboards with ‘puzzle’ handles that a bear is not dexterous enough to open – where food from your vehicle must be stowed whilst you hike (Bears have a tremendous sense of smell and are enormously strong. They can and do destroy cars to get to food left inside). None of this was particularly inconvenient, but it was another layer of things to remember when setting out on a hike – and if you’re already thinking a bit slowly due the altitude and a head cold, it’s a hassle. We took to making check lists to ensure we had essential items with us, and bear preparation was added to the list!

    In the end, we didn’t see any bears – we expected as much – but maybe someday in the Sierras we will encounter one. On the one hand, it’s an encounter I’m looking forward too – how incredible would it be to see a bear in the wild? Though perhaps I won’t feel quite so excited as much as terrified when it actually happens!

    So far, I’ve painted a fairly negative picture of events – and it is true that we did encounter several disappointing setbacks that limited what we achieved relative to our plans. But the trip was very far from a failure and in the end what we saw, experienced and achieved far outweighed any setbacks we encountered. If you’ve read our main Sierra article, you’ll know that our visit to the Sierras really was a life-changing experience for both of us. The place truly inspired wonder in both of us and the hiking we did there, whilst only scratching the surface of the routes available, was all genuinely fantastic. From a photographic point of view, the place is spectacular – any landscape where you can go from desert, to glaciers to groves of 4,000+ year old Bristlecone Pines in a single day is clearly going to be visually stunning!

    In terms of our preparations for our ‘Altitude Project’, the trip was also a resounding success. Initially we’d been worried that the fact we had done less advanced training would negatively impact the trip. But I don’t think it did. We still got a lot done and were able to put into practice some of the things we had learned in the Alps: We didn’t rush into a long hike as soon as we arrived, but instead decided to pace ourselves. If we could distil everything we have learned so far about altitude hiking into one piece of advice it would be exactly that: pace yourself! Time and time again we’ll see people on high altitude trails heading off at the same pace they might walk at lower down the mountain. Invariably, we’ll pass them before long and they usually look exhausted!

    The key thing is to anticipate that you will get tired and out of breath sooner than you think. With this in mind, don’t try to match the pace you would normally walk at. That doesn’t mean you need to slow it right down, but just ease back a little. With this method, we’ve found that we can still make very good progress on trails and manage not to exhaust ourselves too quickly. On the same note, be aware that any sections that require more intense effort – say, a section with a very steep climb – will tire you out faster. If you anticipate this, you can plan to take brief strategic stops before breathlessness forces you to do so.

    Training for Altitude Adventures: Part Two - Image Asset

    There is a psychological challenge in all this too: you might feel that you are somehow under-performing if you’re not hiking at your normal speed or getting to the top of a given slope with ease. However, these are all things that altitude will influence, so it is important to separate the evidence-based reality from your mental picture and adjust your behaviour accordingly.

    Finally, we learned that aches and pains are exaggerated by altitude. Keeping on top of your hydration and food stops therefore takes on renewed importance, and it’s something we’ll definitely be paying more attention to in the future!

    The progress in the Sierras was all good and we are very much looking forward to the next steps in our altitude adventure.

    Always higher and higher!

  • Why Colour Matters: Our approach to colour and contrast in our images

    In my mind’s eye, I visualize how a particular… sight and feeling will appear on a print. If it excites me, there is a good chance it will make a good photograph. It is an intuitive sense, an ability that comes from a lot of practice.– Ansel Adams

    The negative is comparable to the composer’s score and the print to its performance. Each performance differs in subtle ways. –Ansel Adams

    It isn’t a new thing, but we have recently noticed quite a few comments on our Instagram posts where people have complimented our choice of colour pre-set or style.Every time we receive such a comment, we always respond that we don’t work this way.Personally, our opinion is that pre-sets subtract from your work and you will never get the most out of your images if you choose to work with them.We always treat the colour in our images on a shot by shot basis.Every image is different – even two that are shot in the same location – and therefore we believe that every image needs to be individually tailored to look its best.Fay haswritten before about why we think that using pre-sets is bad for your photography, and that article is a good companion for this piece.In this article we want to talk a bit more about the thinking behind our approach to colour and contrast: why is it we choose to work on our images post-capture and what are the factors that influence our decisions?In many ways, this is a very personal, opinion-based piece and we are not for a moment suggesting that you should just copy our approach.What makes an image look good is a very subjective thing – and the things we like and dislike may not resonate with you at all.However, by talking about how we come to make our aesthetic decisions, we hope that you’ll be able to start asking similar questions about your own images and start to build your own visual language.

    Let’s start with a bit of history, and by that, I mean let’s talk about our backgrounds.Both Fay and I have formal educations in photography and we both worked in the commercial photography Industry for a long time before we took the step to set up our creative partnership, This Expansive Adventure.Between us, we’ve worked in all manner of roles, from studio assistant to photographer and from darkroom assistant to lead creative retoucher.We have been fortunate to have worked with some massive names in the industry and over the years we have contributed in various ways to prestigious editorial stories and massive advertising productions.Our background has allowed us to see the industry from the inside out.Many people only experience professional photography as a finished product – when they see a story in a magazine or an ad on a billboard – but we have been lucky enough to see and participate in the process at all levels from brainstorming the shoot concept to critical final colour approval on the printing press.This insight has allowed us to develop our opinions on how images should look by working with some of the very best people in the industry.None the less, this doesn’t mean the creative process is always easy or that we always agree on how an image should look.

    I started this piece with two quotes from Ansel Adams (1902-1984).If you don’t know who he was, or just know of him from his images, then it’s worth doing a little more research on the man himself.Aside from being an absolute titan of landscape photography, Adams had a strong belief in the value of photographic education and through his writing he effectively defined many of the conventions we now take for granted in photography.One good example here is the time/temperature method of film processing.If you shoot and process your own film, you wouldn’t dream of starting a process run without knowing how long you were processing for and at what temperature, yet before Adams, this was not common practice, and photographers would usually inspect their film under a dim safelight – either red or green depending on the film type – during processing to assess development visually.Adams did not invent time/temperature method, but his writing popularised it and turned processing from an imprecise, almost random act, to an exacting science.

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    Beyond all of this, Adams developed a strong visual language in his work, and key to that was his concept of visualisation: He worked with the final print in mind.This meant that from the outset, he considered how the final image was going to look.Did he want a dark and moody image or something much lighter and high key?These creative decisions would inform his technical choices: How would he expose the scene? Was it more important to preserve highlight or shadow detail?This led to his development of the Zone System – a method for visualising how changes to your exposure settings and film processing will directly impact the tonal values of the final print.

    It is easy to dismiss Adams’ technical writing as a relic of a bygone and obsolete era of photography.He writes about exposing black and white film in large format cameras.He talks extensively about modifying darkroom processes to get different contrast ranges in negatives.At first glance, none of this seems relevant to a contemporary digital photographer and indeed, the technical book of his I recommend the most – ‘The Negative’ – was first published in 1948.However, I would argue that if you see past the antique equipment, his writing is still absolutely relevant to anyone who is interested in developing their photography beyond basic snap-shots.As we’ll soon see, Adams’ techniques and philosophies form the basis of our working method.

    One question we often get asked is why do we post-process our images at all?As professional photographers, should we not be able to use images straight out of the camera?This question is more common than you may think and we’ve even heard it from clients on commercial projects.The answer to this is simple: In short, we post-produce our images to make them more like the scenes we experienced when stood behind the camera.

    The long answer, though, is a little more convoluted.That photography is a meeting of the technical and the creative is a given, and few would doubt that statement, but we think that many people rather miss the point of this.The technical and creative sides to photography are not two separate facets, but rather two processes that feed into and inform each other.

    Why Colour Matters: Our approach to colour and contrast in our images - Image Asset

    Let’s break that down with a practical example: Our first response when photographing a scene is to think about how we want the final image to look – for us Ansel Adams’ final darkroom print becomes a final high res file – and this feeds directly into decisions about framing, focus and exposure.But the fact is that modern digital cameras are almost too good.I’m not complaining here, but the fact is they can capture almost too much dynamic range and colour depth in a scene and critically, this range is very different to what our eyes perceive: our brains hone in on certain details, textures or colours and are constantly colour-correcting scenes to emphasis or de-emphasise certain elements and to compensate for atmospheric aberrations.

    In the Dolomites in Northern Italy, for instance, we often spot red – probably staining from iron oxide – amongst the grey rocks of the mountains.This can range from something that’s quite subtle to very intense.However, the red is seldom visible in the raw files our cameras produce.Further more, atmospheric scattering often lends the distant mountains a blue hue.Certainly, this blue is evident in real life, but in our raw files, the blue is often emphasised (which in turn further supresses any red).

    Next, there is contrast.You’ll surely see from even the briefest look at our images that we are big fans of contrast.Yet, the sense of drama we experience when photographing a scene is often lost when we look at our raw files – the beautiful deep tones and delicately separated highlight tones you might see in a bank of clouds can just appear as a few variants on mid grey in your captured file.

    Finally for now, there’s the matter of colour.Digital cameras record colours differently to the way the combo of the human eye and brain perceive them.For me, the best – or more accurately the worst – example is green.Put simply, I don’t like the way digital cameras (or even colour film) record green relative to how I perceive it.For me, greens straight out of camera take on a fluorescent, unreal level of saturation or colour intensity.I’ve often joked that foliage looks the colour of something that would give you super powers if you feel into it in a comic book! As a landscape photographer, you can surely see that this might pose a problem!

    So, we are left with a mismatch.A scene may have ‘felt’ like it looked a certain way, but the reality of the captured files shows something very different.Our aim with post-processing is to bring the captured files closer to the feeling of the place.

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    Now, there are absolutely steps that can be taken to get things closer at the time of capture: careful exposure and white balance are two immediate factors.It’s important to note here that neither of these need necessarily be ‘correct’ in terms of how the scene presents itself: if deliberate over or under exposure or setting a non-standard white balance will help in terms of getting the scene closer to your visualisation, then absolutely make use of this!Beyond, this and depending on your camera, it may be possible to set an output profile or fine-tune the colour and contrast settings to further refine the look of the files your camera produces.Of course, it’s important not to go too far here: If you tune your camera too much towards producing files that look a very specific way when you shoot a certain subject type, then you are putting yourself at a disadvantage when you need to shoot something different.Let’s say you optimise your settings so that dark woodlands scenes have added depth and contrast.As soon as you need to shoot a bright scene of, say, mist over a lake, your settings and fine-tuning will work against you.

    Post-production is therefore a necessity to achieve our goal of matching our files to our feelings.There’s a misconception that post-production is an invention of the digital era, but I can tell you this is absolutely not true!You can certainly do a lot more in digital post-production than you could in a darkroom, and this in turn has led to a ‘fix it in post’ attitude that unfortunately seems to permeate certain areas of the industry, but regardless of this, I can say from my own experience of working in a commercial darkroom that we were manipulating colour and contrast in images long before digital workflows took over!We’ve also often heard the statement that post-production is somehow un-photographic or somehow less authentic, but it just takes a brief look at the practical history of photography to realise that this is an untrue and uninformed viewpoint.

    As I mentioned above, for us, post-production is about enhancing the mood or atmosphere of our images, to bring them closer to our experience of the scene.We don’t generally create colour in our images, but rather build on what’s already there – even if it isn’t immediately obvious.To return to our example of the red in the rocks in the Dolomites, this may not be initially visible in the raw file straight out of the camera, but once you dial out the blue from the atmospheric scattering, you may start to see it and once it’s there, it can be enhanced.Beyond this, we use contrast to build drama and to draw attention to key elements of a scene (with the right adjustments, the flat grey sky may separate into beautifully defined textures of cloud) and we will fine-tune colours to bring them closer to our tastes and perception (the cartoon toxic-waste hues of digital greens get shifted towards a more pleasing natural tone, for instance).We’ll be the first to admit that many of our images reach almost abstract levels in terms of their drama and some people may not like this stylised approach.That’s fine.For us, the contrast and the drama is all about conveying emotion and sharing our experience and perception of a place.

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    Our approach is built on working with the colours already in a scene, but we know plenty of photographers who like to take things further, building light adn colour from scratch.For us, we feel that this is maybe a step too far, but there are plenty of individuals out there using this approach to great effect.

    None of the techniques we use are complex.We typically make minimal adjustments in raw processing software (our favoured choice is Capture One Pro), before bringing the images into Photoshop for the final colour treatment.Why this combo of software?Well, more than anything, it comes down to familiarity.We know this software well and we can use it fluently to get the results we like.This doesn’t mean it’s the only way though – if you are comfortable working in, say, Lightroom, and it gives you results you like, then go for it!You’re not alone!

    Image editing software can seem daunting when you first look at it – often when I open a new piece of software I find myself thinking that I’m sat in the cockpit of an aeroplane staring at banks of dials and switches without knowing what any of them do! With this in mind, and perhaps after being confronted with a contrast curve for the first time, you can see why a lot of people fall back on the idea of using a colour pre-set or applying a LUT.However, the learning curve for most modern software is less steep than you would think, and with a little experimentation, and perhaps the help of a few video tutorials, you will soon realise that manual adjustment is a more rewarding and creative route.It’s a bit like learning to use your camera in fully manual mode: it may be frustrating at first, but if you stick with it, the reward is well worth the effort.

    Digital photography offers creative possibilities that Ansel Adams would have been amazed by.First of all, we have the ability to instantly review our images to see if we have the ‘raw material’ we will need later.Beyond this, raw processing and image manipulating software gives a level of control and instant feedback that was impossible in the darkroom.The elements are all there and, if you can mediate these with the tools of pre-visualisation and an aesthetic sense from an earlier age of photography, then the possibilities are endless!

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  • Decision Making In The Outdoors

    There have been a number of times this year where something out of our control has stopped us from doing what we wanted to in the outdoors. There was the blizzard in the Pyrenees which stopped us attempting to climb Aneto, under the guidance of a very qualified guide who you kinda want to listen to!

    Wind conditions at the summit of the mountain would have been 120mph and with windchill, it would have been -43 degrees celcius – all in all, conditions that are inhabitable and incredibly unsafe.

    There was the unfinished hike in the Sierra earlier this summer, that stopped us backpacking early due to a snowstorm that was meant to come in. We had no prior knowledge of the trail, it was very cold and we were both suffering from bad head colds at the time. We followed the rangers advice to come out before the storm got bad.

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    There was the hike where Fay twisted her ankle – an ankle she broke many years ago in school, and has been weak ever since and had to make the decision to turn back from a mountain push with near to perfect conditions to summit. Making that decision was difficult but the right thing to do.

    There was the time earlier this year where we turned back very quickly from what looked like a beautiful day of snowshoeing because we could hear avalanches coming down the mountain behind us.

    Then this morning, there has been the derailed attempt to the top of Mount Snowdon in Wales. A route we’re incredibly familiar with, and a great thought for our last day of the trip before we head back to London.

    Except there is torrential rain pouring down outside of our window, the wind whistling frantically and the knowledge of that being a snow blizzard further up the mountain. There’s also the fact it’s going to get worse this afternoon with little to no visibility on a route that has unknown snow and ice at present.

    It’s so saddening, as we begin our drive back to London today, because there’s really nothing else to do when in your head you’re trying to calm down older thoughts from the previous day, thinking about how awesome it’ll be when you’re on the top of the mountain.

    Then there’s the questioning if you made the right decision. The worry that you didn’t and the upset that comes from wondering what if. Asking yourself the question ‘what if I’d done it yesterday instead? The thing is, last night we were asked by a young couple in the pub about our favourite routes in Snowdonia.

    We told them that we’d seen the weather was bad the following day, but we didn’t know how bad it was going to be, and that Sunday looked to be much better with the promise of sunshine (but unknown amounts of snow).

    They persisted that they must hike to the top of Snowdon tomorrow, as it was their only option. We asked them if they had hiking boots and warm clothes and they told us they only really had the shoes and clothes they came in, bar an extra waterproof each.

    They each wore converse and jeans. Whilst it is possible (not our preference and strongly not advised or recommended) to hike up Mt Snowdon on a summers sunny day in jeans and converse, a summit hike in the conditions we’ve woken up to is a much different proposition. We can’t help but think about them this morning and hope they’ve chosen to stick with their safety rather than putting themselves and others in danger.

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    The problem is, it’s a tough thing to do, turning your back on a plan you’ve maybe been coming up with for weeks, months or even just days.

    You’ve been training, you’ve amped this thing up in your mind and the idea of turning back or not doing something is heartbreaking and a little bit soul crushing. It was heartbreaking for us in the Pyrenees that we didn’t get to climb Aneto in winter conditions; we’d been dreaming, visualising and training for this for months.

    In fact it was pretty much all we thought about. We’ve both felt this enormous sense before that we’re letting ourselves down or that ‘others might still be doing it so why can’t I?’

    The thing is, even if others are still going to do something, you have to be honest and meet yourself where you are. If you’re potentially putting yourself in too much danger, it’s not worth that.

    Mountains are never worth your life. Some days are for challenges, and others aren’t. The problem is, we often rack up our calculated concern about doing something, to mean that we’re weak. Or that we’re not as good as someone else.

    This is when it’s a great opportunity to observe other people who have more experience than you. For us, a great example of this has been understanding how mountaineers we’ve admired have handled tricky situations on big mountains.

    How our guide (who’s a very well known mountaineer with a lot of 8,000m peaks under his belt) in the Pyrenees handled the earlier mentioned situation of Aneto. He was so matter of fact about it. We already knew it, but it really hit home just how seriously taking the weather is to making decisions on the outdoors.

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    The problem is, sometimes our egos try to get in the way of making rational decisions. ‘What will they think if I don’t? I’ve bigged this up…’ ‘I can’t fail at this.’

    A lot of people’s egos have gotten them into big trouble in the mountains. Our egos can, if we let them, lead us down a path of bad decision making. They can lead us to make decisions that terrify us.

    They can lead us to make decisions that put our safety, and the safety of others on the line. They can lead us to doing things that we are not comfortable with (and we’re not talking stepping outside your comfort zone here). They can also lead us to take risks that aren’t calculated, but instead are guided by a fear of how we’ll look to others, or being too rigid in what it is we want to achieve.

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    How do I see the difference?

    If you’re in a situation where you find yourself questioning what the right thing to do is, look at what your thoughts are coming up around this.

    Be really honest with yourself here, because this is where we often try to argue that our ego wants what’s best for us. A few common thoughts we have from our egos are:

    • I’m letting everyone down if I don’t do this
    • Everyone else is doing it so why shouldn’t I? (even if something doesn’t feel right to you)
    • I’ve paid so much money to do this
    • I have to do this now, I won’t ever have another opportunity to do this
    • What will the charity think who I’m collecting for?
    • What will everyone think?
    • If I don’t do it, I’ll never forgive myself

    Be honest about where you are with questions like this in the situation. It’s also important to acknowledge if your thoughts are based in reality. Sometimes when we build up to something, we can get a lot of resistance to doing it, because our fears of the unknown come up. We don’t know what to expect.

    We’re scared what might happen. And this is where looking at the people around you is a good thing to do. How are they reacting to this? Is the weather actually as bad as you’re making out? Is the risk as high as it seems?

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    Stop taking it personally

    If you have to turn back from, or not even begin something you’ve been prepping for, don’t make it about you. We find it so easy to personally attach judgement to our abilities when we have to say no to something.

    However, a weather storm isn’t your fault. Adverse conditions are not your fault. We often think ‘maybe if I was better prepared for it, it wouldn’t be a problem.’ There is a difference between calculated risk and taking risk for the sheer sake of taking risk. Remove the judgement from yourself.

    Remember it is natural to feel this way, but it is not helpful. Don’t let your feeling unhappy with yourself get in the way of you making the correct decision in the outdoors.

    We can also guarantee that you’ll have a much more enjoyable experience if you work on your personal attachment to these things. Ask yourself why you’re looking for this validation. What does it prove to you?

    Look at what you can learn from that situation and be grateful for

    When we are in a state of gratitude for the situations we have in our lives, we’re in a much happier place. What can you learn from this situation? It might be that this wasn’t a great time in the year to come.

    That your life is more important. To trust the guides around you. To listen to your gut. That you needed to be better prepared for altitude, snow, ice.

    There are so many things we can learn when we look for them. When we come from a place of gratitude for all that we can learn from a situation, we start to see other things we can do instead.

    We start to become opportunistic with our time. We find a new hike in a different area that we’d never heard of that becomes one of our favourites. The next time you find yourself feeling down about a decision in the outdoors, look for what the lesson is.

    We all have differing levels of where we are

    Getting into a good place with the outdoors is about getting into a space where you have the utmost respect for Mother Nature and the curveballs she often deals out.

    The truth is, getting deeper into the outdoors is going to come with disappointment, waiting around and having cabin fever. It’s part and parcel of it.

    It’s about being imperfect.

    It’s about making peace with your decisions.

    It’s about stopping the constant questioning as to whether you’ve done the right thing.

    Even if this is the only opportunity you’ll ever get to climb this mountain, it is not worth your life. Ever.

  • Feel Better Whilst Backpacking: Why looking after your skin is as important as what you put in your body

    This post is sponsored by Mother Dirt, all opinions are my own

    When a lot of people think about backpacking, overnighting or thru hiking, they instantly think about feeling really, really dirty. I think there is this idea circling around out there that in order to truly enjoy and get into the wilderness, you have to embrace feeling dirty, end of. It’s actually glorified, and you’ll often see shots on Instagram of people at the end of their hike saying ‘haven’t washed in six days’, like that is a huge achievement. Maybe some people feel more connected this way, and that’s cool, but I don’t. I also know a lot of other hikers that don’t either. There seem to be a lot of mixed messages and feelings out there that if you’re one thing, you can’t be another. If you identify as one thing, you can’t also have elements of others; that you can’t have contradicting beliefs.

    Personally, I’ve never enjoyed being dirty. I’m a one to two shower a day kind of girl. I hate feeling sweaty. I hate the feeling of a day’s hike on my skin; covered in sticky sun cream and sweat. Sure, it’s all a ‘memory’ of a great day out in the mountains but it was something I always hated about the sport I’d chosen to base my life around. I remember so many experiences of camping where I’ve just felt horrible in my own skin for days on end whilst I try and forget about the fact that I haven’t been able to wash my skin, hair or face. Putting it bluntly, I just like to feel clean. It just makes me feel great. I know I’m not alone here (Matt for one is also someone who enjoys feeling clean). However, when I spoke to a lot of my friends in the outdoors, particularly those who camp, there was a fairly consistent feeling that you just need to grin and bear it when it comes to embracing the dirtiness that comes with backcountry camping and hiking over a period of days. Your skin is meant to feel chapped, itchy, sweaty, spotty, clogged and sallow. It just doesn’t matter.

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    We put so much care and attention into what we put into our bodies, and also how we treat our bodies. We spend so much money on conditioning and training our bodies to do what we want them to do through gym and class memberships. We spend so much money on vitamin supplements to help us go further, not to mention probiotics, macrobiotics and superfoods. We know full well what a difference the right conditioning and taking care of our bodies can do for our health, and what a difference these measures can make to our enjoyment of the outdoors.

    So why is our skin any different? For some people I asked, it seemed like an afterthought. You’re there to get on the trail and enjoy the hike, so what if you’re dirty for a few days?

    But what if I told you that you may well find you enjoy your hike more when you feel great in your skin? Afterall, don’t most of us hike to feel in the moment and to be taken in and on a journey with the scenery that becomes a part of us as we complete it?

    If your hair feels greasy and you’re scratching your painfully annoying scalp every ten minutes, you’re not really concentrating on the moment and enjoying the hike, are you?

    If your body feels clammy and greasy all day long and all you can think about is that proper shower you’re going to have when you get home, you’re not really concentrating on the moment and enjoying the hike, are you?

    If you’re sweating all day and just feel gross by the end of the day when you’re getting ready to try and get a decent night’s sleep (which we all know is quite an art whilst camping) you’re not really going to be concentrating on the memories of the day gone by and your achievements, fueling you up for the next day, are you?

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    We were about to set out on our backpacking trip in the High Sierra this September and the one thing that was playing at the back of my mind (much more than the idea of the potential cold temps, altitude and elevation gains and losses) was the question, how will I feel comfortable in my skin without washing for four days in a row, twice? I’d been dreaming about these mountains and planning this trip for months. It was also a commission, where we’d be working long hours, with hard days of hiking in the mountains. We’d also be at high altitudes where our bodies would already be under stress and I wanted to feel good! So, it was music to my ears when we partnered with Mother Dirt, a brand we’ve heard great things about for a while now to test out their biome-friendly, natural skincare products out on the trail.

    Matt and I have been trying to move towards finding something that works for us both to feel clean in the outdoors for some time. For us both, the thing that had been a problem had been trying to find products that are biodegradable and natural whilst not throwing a ton of harsh chemicals all over our skin. I’ve got to say, even though some of the products we’ve tried have said they are natural and biodegradable, I’m not a great fan of the idea of disposing of some of the run-off water from these when you look at the back of the packaging and take in the amount of ingredients that are contained. If you’re a keen outdoors lover, or even someone new to backpacking and backcountry hiking, you’ll be aware of Leave No Trace. With regards to washing and using water, alwayscarry water 200 feet away from streams or lakes to use and throw this out the same distance away also.

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    Mother Dirt set us off on our trip with five of their products, The AO+ Mist, Body Wash, Shampoo, Face & Body Cleanser and Moisturizer. As well as being natural, Mother Dirt’s products work to restore and maintain the good bacteria on the skin. Just like our insides rely on probiotics and good bacteria, our skin relies on the same to keep us healthy. What I really loved was when I found out that Mother Dirt’s research for their products focuses on the type of bacteria that is found naturally in soil. It felt very fitting to be bringing back to nature, products that come from our home already. When we use harsh chemicals on our skin, we remove the bacteria, called Ammonia-Oxidizing Bacteria (AOB) that was there to start with. Mother Dirt’s products look to restore this balance in the skin’s microbiome. Your skin microbiome ishome to billions of friendly living microorganisms. It’s kind of like an eco-system that lives on the skin that’s working to help keep it healthy and in good condition.When you do something as physically exertive as hiking, you’re sweating and removing precious minerals from your skin. A lot of people use rehydration tablets to help replenish the vitamins and minerals they’ve lost in their water, so why do we forget about our skin, like it isn’t important? I loved the idea that my skin could feel just as good on the trail as it could feel when I had everything I needed with me at home.

    One concern for a lot of hikers on longer trips is weight, and this is one of the main reasons why a lot of hikers will choose to leave skincare in the bathroom. I was initially concerned by this, having to already fit a huge bear can, massive sleeping bag and everything else I needed into my pack, but I loved the fact that Mother Dirt’s products were quite small but mighty. The fact that you need such a small amount of the products to see them work to their full potential means that if you’re really stuck for space, you could swap some of the bottles for small travel size bottles you may already have at home. Personally, I didn’t mind the weight they added to my pack. I think we’ve got to start looking at what we class as ‘essential’ because I can say from my experience that some of the things in my pack that I used to think were essential, weren’t! The Sierra was plentifully stocked with water along the trail in the form of lakes (so many lakes!) and streams and the idea of using these products whilst backpacking with fresh water (of course, away from the water source) felt exciting. I wondered how this would work so well on trails in the desert, where water sources might not be so plentiful, and after using the products for a while, can really say they do not need a huge amount of water to be used to their greatest potential, meaning that the water you’re conserving can be used sparingly to keep yourself feeling clean and healthy skin wise too.

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    One of my absolute favorite products was the AO+ Mist. I’ve come to terms with the idea that I sweat quite a lot when hiking and I really do not enjoy how it feels on my skin. When sprayed directly on the skin, the AO+ Mist seemed to really stop my sweat from being such a problem. I found I was using it sparingly every morning on areas that would traditionally sweat a lot (such as armpits – instead of traditional deodorant, face, arms and legs) and by the end of the day, I found that firstly I hadn’t missed that harsh deodorant because I didn’t smell. I was also really amazed by just how much less I was sweating on my arms. Due to harsh UV and the fact that it was pretty hot, my arms were often exposed. Using a high factor sunscreen is incredibly important, but it also really seems to clog my pores, and this seems to lead to a really greasy, sweaty feeling on my skin. I was still aware of the sun cream by the end of the day, but not as much. I often find that because I have slightly oily skin, sun cream can give me spots, especially on my face. After this trip, my skin was clear. The moisturizer was incredible too. We found that throughout this hike, we were going between cold and hot conditions and this would normally play havoc with my skin – making it dry and painful to be in. The incredibly nourishing moisturizer helped to make my skin feel rebalanced and comfortable again and because it was multi-purpose it was suitable to use on both my face and body – meaning that the dependence on different products for different areas was removed and inside a small package too. What I absolutely loved about the shampoo, body wash and facial cleanser was just how little I needed to use to feel fantastic – this made a massive difference to me so I was able to conserve water, but also didn’t have to spend so much time wet when it was still a little cold in the mornings or evenings. My skin felt healthy and my hair was shiny (and more importantly not as itchy from all the sweat of the day). The best thing about the shampoo is that it improved the amount of time needed in-between washes, meaning that my hair felt great for longer without needing to keep washing (and also meant that in terms of weight, I needed to carry less).

    It’s kind of crazy to think how little we can come to regard our skin whilst we’re on the trail, but at the end of the hike I realized I’d spent my time feeling healthy in my skin, without skin irritations. Usually I’d feel sweaty, disgusting, sometimes feeling under the weather and a little low in mood, itchy, smelly and like I just wanted to hide at the end of a multi-day hike. I came back from this hike feeling really good. I felt clean, I felt like my skin was moisturized.

    I’m going to be taking much better care of my skin on the trail from now on and Mother Dirt is certainly going to be seeing some miles, lovingly from my pack.

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  • Staying in Your Own Lane

    I’m the first to admit that for a long time, I really struggled with comparing my life to other peoples. I know I’m not the only one, and in countless conversations, friends have opened up and told me that they have had this same affliction affect them for the best parts of their lives.

    It’s that feeling where you actually feel good about your achievements and then all of a sudden, that overly critical voice peers in, offering its opinion that you’re never going to be able to do this thing, or that your thing wasn’t as good as the thing that the person you always compare yourself to did, three weeks ago.

    I’ve learned not to judge myself by other people’s standards. I call this staying in my own lane. That doesn’t mean I’m setting myself limits based on what I think I can or cannot do, but rather I’ve learned to enjoy my experiences at my own pace and based on what I can achieve at that time based on a whole range of factors (like fitness, health, weather etc).

    In adventure and the outdoors, we’ve become massively obsessed with achievement. It’s understandable. The idea of setting yourself the challenge of climbing a specific mountain or going on a multi day or week through hike is a fantastic mental challenge. It can also make us competitive, and not in the most serving way for ourselves.

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    As much as I’ve worked on the idea of staying in my own lane, and hiking my own hike so to speak, I’ve experienced this many times myself. If my achievement hasn’t been quite ‘as good’ as I’d hoped it would be in the outdoors, I’ll beat myself up for as long as possible so I can’t possibly feel good about what I did achieve. One such time has been recently on our hiking trip in the Sierra Nevada, California. We both came down with head colds on the way out and had much less energy than normal. It was incredibly frustrating because I felt like we’d been training for this for absolutely months. Getting there and having to turn back at a point earlier than we’d hoped was crushing. I’d been dreaming of that trail and that experience for months. I felt like I’d failed at this thing that I’d been training for, for months. I started thinking about all the other people I know who have done similar things and managed it no problem. As soon as I started comparing my hike to their hike, I lost my joy. I lost the moment I was in. I lost the joy of the scenery all around me.

    I will also sometimes find myself comparing my physical and mental ability to that of Matt. We both have different things in the outdoors that we’re good at, and together we form a strong team. But that team isn’t formed stronger when I spend time wallowing in why he was faster there or why he seemed to acclimate better than me at a particular altitude that time around.

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    I often see on adventure groups I’m a member of online, that people will put their outdoor achievements down because they know that there are plenty of people out there who are doing much ‘harder’ things. The truth is, though, that your achievements are your own. Whether in the outdoors or in your everyday life. We are all on our own paths in life, and if we let ourselves, we all get to experience the growth we need at the exact time we need it. So what if you are proud of yourself for competing a hike that everyone else is saying was really easy and you found really difficult? It was your hike, you did it. You should be proud. Sometimes, ease is a matter of perception. Sure, the route can be classed as easy physically, but if it’s a cliff top hike and you’re scared of heights, you’re probably not going to find that hike as easy as someone without a fear of heights. That doesn’t make you any less of a person. It just makes you different.

    Your hike is your hike.

    Your life is your life.

    I can guarantee you that staying in your lane is going to help you enjoy your life more.

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    Our lives are already stressful, and in modern society, the pressures that we face can mount up so much and cause depression and anxiety on a large scale. We don’t need to be adding more stress to our already pent up lives.

    If you’re finding yourself to be stuck in comparison and down about your achievements, I want you to think back to why you got into hiking and adventure in the first place. I’m guessing that it ultimately wasn’t because of your intense calling to bag peaks, nor was it because you felt like you had something to prove to the world.

    If I ever find myself going head on into comparison and beating myself up, I try to get out on a hike that will really help me reconnect with why I enjoy hiking. Yesterday, I had exactly that experience after our trip in the Sierra. We went and hiked a lake loop, it wasn’t particularly challenging, but there were some parts that tested my heights and drop offs fear, which allowed me to push myself mentally and see the bliss on the other side of fear. The scenery was beautiful. The temperature was just right. The water at the lake was soothing. I felt this rush of joy come over me and I felt in my element again.

    We get so stuck sometimes in our heads and around what it is we want to achieve that we forget that we are more than one thing. We are more than hikers, travellers, adventurers. We are human beings, living a human experience, full of a whole spectrum of feelings and emotions.

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    Imagine if you could enjoy where your life is in the context of where you are.

    All that you’ve achieved.

    All the areas in your life that you’ve grown. How you’ve expanded.

    Free from comparison.

    Free from inadequacy.

    Free from comparing your life to someone else, who, in turn might be comparing their life to yours.

    Stay in your own lane, and enjoy the ride!

  • Quieter Alternatives to The Dolomites, Italy: Gran Paradiso National Park

    Situated in the North West of Italy, Gran Paradiso National Park boundaries border on to France – and on the French side of the border, the protected area continues as the Vanoise National park. The nearest large city is Turin (roughly 70km away) and Milan is not that much further at around 160km.

    Both these cities have sizable airports and are easily reached from other major European cities. We drove to Gran Paradiso, having spent the first part of our trip in Switzerland in the Bernese Alps. We were treated to a wonderful scenic drive through Switzerland and Northern Italy before switching onto Italy’s high-speed Autostrada network to cover much of the distance to the park.

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    Ask most people about the Italian Alps, and they will instinctively think of the Dolomites. It’s not surprising. This area is truly spectacular, easily accessible and above all else well developed. By contrast, Gan Paradiso seems somewhat off the beaten track.

    Compared to the Dolomites, or some of the things to do in Amalfi Coast, there’s relatively little information available about it online, and image searches on Google or Instagram will show up far fewer results. But, if you do a little bit of digging, you will find plenty of enticing information about the area. The details of the hikes and the images that you find all hint at a spectacular landscape – and a location that seems to be generally off the beaten tourist track.

    Gran Paradiso is Italy’s oldest national park.Having previously been a Royal Hunting Reserve, the park’s original area was gifted to the nation in 1920 by King Victor Emmanuel III and made a National Park in 1922.

    The Park’s original purpose – and indeed that of establishing the Royal Hunting Preserve that proceeded it was to preserve populations of the Alpine Ibex, which had been hunted almost to extinction.

    Today, the Ibex thrives in the park along with many other previously endangered species including Wolves and Golden Eagles.There is also some evidence that a small population of Lynx may even be established in the park.

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    The origins of Gran Paradiso are important because they shape the National Park we see today. Much of the Dolomites, for instance, is still working farmland, and even the areas that are not are still criss-crossed with roads.

    As such, you are never far from signs of humanity (not that it always seems this way!). Gran Paradiso, by contrast, is much more primal.Whilst there are farms and such there, the landscape seems much less touched by the hand of man. Perhaps it’s wistful thinking, but it does seem that little bit wilder!

    The park takes its name from the 4061m Gran Paradiso mountain – the only mountain over 4000m that sits entirely in Italy. The park in general is at quite a high altitude – the average elevation is around 2000m – and if you are not used to this, you’ll certainly notice it!

    Expect to find yourself felling slightly more out of breath than normal, and everything being just that little bit more work than you might expect. If you stay in the park itself – as we did – you will also be sleeping at altitude. Different people react to this in different ways – some won’t notice any difference at all – but we both experienced vivid and strange dreams during our nights in the park.

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    Access to the park is fairly limited – certainly less so than you might be used to in the Dolomites – there are only a few roads that wind their way into the Park’s bounds, and none of these link-up – they are effectively all dead ends.

    Look at a map and you will see that the bulk of the park is not easily accessible by car and would require quite lengthy hikes to reach.This will certainly put off a lot of potential visitors and it is true to say that next to the Dolomites, things are just not as accessible. However, in many ways, we felt this was the appeal of the park.

    You have to truly work for you views and for those with the experience, fitness and motivation to explore, the park has a lot to offer. The fact that access is more difficult also means that you don’t get the same sort of crowds here that you might expect to find elsewhere in the Alps. On many of our hikes we experienced true solitude, only very occasionally passing other hikers.

    There are several small towns and villages within Gran Paradiso, and hotel and self-catering accommodation is certainly available. For our stay, we chose to camp at a place called Point Breuil in the north of the park.

    We mentioned above that all of the main roads into the park are dead ends, and Point Breuil is essentially the end of the line for motor vehicles from the road that leads in from the Aosta Valley. If you want to venture further into the park from here, you’ve got to use your feet!

    The camp site itself was well-equipped, with an on-site convenience store, good shower and toilet facilities and electric hook-ups should you require them. There was also a hotel with a good bar and restaurant right next door. On top of all of this, camping proved to be very reasonable cost-wise.

    Most importantly, though, the camp site put us right in the midst of things in the park. Whilst we stayed there, we did not use our car once. Every one of the hikes we undertook during our stay started right outside our tent.

    The camp site itself hosted a range of visitors: there were plenty of people who seemed to be doing the same as us – using the site as a base for day-hikes – but also a fair number of people who were simply passing through on longer multi-day hikes.

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    Looking at the maps, it’s clear that if you did want to undertake a multi-day trek, then Gran Paradiso has plenty of options, and if you really want to travel deep into the park, then this is really your only alternative.

    It is well worth investing in a proper trail map for the area, and from this you can get a feel for how the trails run, they type of terrain the pass through and also where there are Refugios – staffed mountain huts – along the way. The high altitude of Gan Paradiso means that many of the longer routes will take you high into the mountains and into almost desert like terrain.

    This is the realm of glaciers. Such trips should not be undertaken lightly, though, so if this does appeal to you, it would pay off to research your route well and make a thorough appraisal of whether or not you have both the physical and mental strength for such a task.

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    For those who prefer day hiking, there are still plenty of options in the park and we easily could have spent far longer hiking here than the four days we did. Although, as we mentioned above, due to the lack of roads into the park interior, any day hiking is on the understanding that you will literally be scratching the surface!

    As with most of the Alps, the routes are all clearly marked with yellow signposts naming the routes and giving distances, difficulty gradings and estimated times for completion. Along the routes themselves, you’ll also see painted way-markers on rocks.

    Helpful as these are, as always, we would advise that it’s essential to carry your own map and compass or a GPS device with offline maps and plenty of battery power. In terms of difficulty, we found the trails around Pont Breuil all started off relatively easily, but soon became more wild sometimes involving moderate scrambling – this is not a place where you can expect to find manicured paths for the duration of you hike and proper hiking equipment including appropriate boots and walking poles are an absolute must.

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    One evening we got speaking with one of the campground staff and mentioned that we were surprised at how quiet the area was. She told us that apart from a few weekends in August, the park does not get especially busy, so it is a great place to find solitude. If you have experienced the crowds you sometimes experience elsewhere in the Alps, then this may well appeal to you very much!

    Gran Paradiso is a spectacular location, and one that we are very glad we took the time to visit.It almost didn’t happen!Such is the appeal of the Dolomites that we almost – almost – decided to revisit that area rather than try somewhere new. We are glad that we didn’t!

    The scenery may not have the same intense ‘smacks you in the face’ impact that you get in parts of the Dolomites, but you cannot for one instant say that it is not spectacular. We slept, woke up and spent many hours having the view of an incredible glacier from our tent!

    Similarly, the fact that it is all a little wilder and that you will need to work that little bit harder to see the sights may put off some potential visitors, but for us, this is all part of the appeal. When we were alone on the trial, having not seen another person for several hours and we looked up to see what may have been a Golden Eagle soaring high overhead, we knew we were somewhere special.

    We had four days in Gran Paradiso, and it was nowhere near enough.Looking at the map, we see possible routes over mountains and past (and over!) glaciers. The potential here is truly as vast as the landscape.

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  • Training for Altitude Adventures: Part One

    With special thanks to all of the sponsors who have helped make this project happen so far: Zermatt Tourism,Jungfraujoch Top of Europe and The Altitude Centre

    When we first got into adventure, we started out exploring our local hills.These didn’t really pose much of a problem in terms of our abilities but, as our appetite grew, so did the size of the mountains and landscapes that we found ourselves longing to be a part of.Both of us grew up in and have spent most of our lives inhabiting low-lying cities andwe didn’t really have much experience in environments over 1,300m above sea level.On our first trip to Austria a couple of years ago, we headed to Grossglockner.At 3,798m this is Austria’s tallest mountain.We didn’t summit it, but our visit did take us to over 2,500m. This certainly made us realize that we felt much more out of breath than we did back home in London.Over subsequent years our travels took us to more and more high-altitude locations, but this experience nearly always comprised day hikes or trips to mountain tops via cable car.

    Some time ago and inspired by a film that’s almost one hundred years old, we began research on a new project. This would be the biggest project we have ever worked on and would take us to some of the highest and most extreme environments in the world. Extreme environments later, but for now, let’s stick with altitude.

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    We started planning this project in much the same way we approach any project; think of the big idea and work backward; creating a series of achievable, stepping-stone goals to make it happen. The one thing that we both agreed on straight away was that we needed much more experience in high altitude environments before we could even begin to start thinking about creating the bigger, end game project. The environments we’d need to have access to in order to make the project work, would, if not treated properly and with an adequate skill level, be potentially deadly. We also had concerns about how we’d feel in these environments. As photographers, we wanted to get a handle on how we’d be able to work at altitude rather than just survive. We needed to learn the workarounds we’d need to build in as habitual patterns before we attempted our ‘big project’.

    Being at altitude is tough on the body for sure, but it shouldn’t be something that scares you away from the adventures you want. If you’re finding yourself called to experience even more of what the world has to offer, there will most likely come a point when altitude becomes something that you need to develop a relationship with.

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    Just to be clear, we’re not in any way trying to suggest that if you go on many trips at altitude, you’ll be able to handle another trip without a care in the world – that isn’t how acclimatization works. What we are saying is that you can massively improve your chances of enjoying and being able to be competent at altitude if you have experience at altitude, know how your body handles it, work around problems and know when enough is enough. So, when it comes time to set off on that trek you’ve always wanted to do, you’ll have all of the skills you need and know how to look after yourself based on your previous experience at altitude. It’ll massively remove a lot of the anxiety of all of those unknowns, meaning you’ll go into it enjoying it.

    Plus, you can have a lot of fun on the journey leading up to it!

    We decided to plan our first working at altitude trip to The Alps this summer around a number of environments that were higher than we’d ever really been for prolonged periods. Usually, and without conscious effort, in the past, we’d go higher in the day and sleep lower at night. This would still be our tactic here, but we’d increase the ‘starting point altitude’ of both. We had three parts to this trip; The Bernese Alps, Switzerland would see us sleep at 1,500m, Gran Paradiso, Italy, 2,000m, and Zermatt, Switzerland 1,600m. In the daytimes, our itinerary would see us venturing up to 3,883m at our highest point. We had a number of photographic commissions happening in each place, so this would be a fantastic opportunity to really start putting into practice our need to learn how we could work at altitude.

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    Training for the trip was much the same as any other trip, with a notable exception.Prior to our departure we teamed up withThe Altitude Centre in The City of London to evaluate how Hypoxic Training could benefit us.If you are not familiar with the term, Hypoxic Training means that you are deliberately reducing the amount of oxygen you have access to during exercise.Broadly speaking, the idea is that oxygen is a fuel your body needs during exercise and by deliberately reducing this, your body gets used to performing with fewer resources – basically, you become more ‘efficient’.This has two benefits: first, it gets you used to exercising at higher altitudes and second it means that when you exercise at sea level, you can work harder, walk further and faster and so on.Many people will know that elite athletes often train at high altitude (the US Olympic Committee has a training facility in Colorado Springs at 1,800m for instance) and this is precisely so that they gain the benefit of the hypoxic effect.The cardio equipment at The Altitude Centre – treadmills and Watt Bikes – are housed in a special room where the air pressure is dropped to mimic conditions at 2,600m.They also have a high altitude ‘breathing pod’ – essentially an oxygen mask that mimics altitudes up to 6,000m.

    As we were training for mountains, our regime centered on the treadmill.A typical workout lasted one hour and was broken into five-minute blocks.Keeping a consistent walking pace, we would alternate between a steep twenty-degree gradient and a shallower, but still uphill gradient – usually around eight to ten degrees – for each block.It may not sound very intense, but with the thinner air we certainly felt the workout!Typically, after an hour, the treadmill would report that we had climbed over 600m, so the exercise was far from trivial!From a sports science point of view, plenty has been written about hypoxic training and there are plenty of studies that both praise its benefits and question its value.

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    Did we experience any benefit from hypoxic training?Well, there was certainly a benefit, but we think it would be difficult to directly prove how much of it came from the fact that we were working out in hypoxic conditions rather than simply working out.None the less, whilst the effects of altitude still hit us on some days on our trip, from a purely fitness point of view, this wasn’t too severe, so whilst this cannot be a scientific conclusion, we would say that the time we spent at the Altitude Centre was definitely beneficial – though in the short time we had before our trip, the benefit was certainly subtle.If you are interested in climbing further and higher as we are or, if you are planning a trip that will push you to your absolute limits, then hypoxic training is well worth investigating.The fact is that it won’t be an option for many of our readers as gyms with these facilities are few and far between, but if the option is there, then it is worth considering seriously.As we have learned from the world of professional cycling, ‘marginal gains’ can make all the difference!

    When we set off for our first leg of the trip, we arrived really late in Sedrun, at around 1,500m above sea level in the Bernese Alps of Switzerland. We were really tired after a long 14-hour drive from London but woke up the next day to beautiful sunshine that could not be ignored. Looking at the weather reports for the following couple of days, we were very concerned by the constant heavy rain and thunderstorms that looked likely to grace us with their presence. It wasn’t ideal to head out that day after such a long, tiring drive the previous day, but we took the opportunity to hike in an area we knew well already from a previous trip. We wouldn’t go and do anything particularly intense, but we’d head up to over 2,000m, do some shorter hikes and start to photograph. We’re not sure if it was the training at The Altitude Centre that helped or the fact that we already had experience at this altitude, but we felt fine. We soon started to feel tired though and working became exactly that; work. The tiredness was most likely down to the lack of sleep and long hours of concentrating on an intensely long drive the previous day. In the past, we probably wouldn’t really have made that distinction.

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    The following day we decided to rest. It wasn’t such a problem anyway, as we had really bad rain and thunderstorms with little to no visibility, so hiking would have been a pretty dumb move. We were hoping to wake up the following day to a much more hike-able day, however the storms hadn’t passed, and we were left with conditions that just wouldn’t have made hiking possible. Even though we weren’t at a crazy high altitude at our Airbnb, we still saw this as a really great way to acclimatize to the thinner air.

    The following day, we were due to work on a job withJungfraujoch Top of Europe, which would take us to the highest altitude we’d been to at 3,466m above sea level (and you can see more about this by clickinghere). We couldn’t wait to see how we felt and worked at this altitude. As we got off the train at the visitor center, we saw people immediately start to feel out of breath and start freaking out. We were very well aware that, for a lot of people on the train, this was probably their first glimpse of a high-altitude landscape and unless you’ve purposefully researched it, may not be aware of how altitude can affect your breathing. It isn’t surprising to think that you might feel concerned if suddenly you’re gasping for breath walking up a flight of stairs that normally you’d have no problem with!

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    Our main aim here was to create an article about accessible high-altitude landscapes, but we also used this as an opportunity to see how we worked at this altitude. Matt found himself not quite as responsive as he would be at sea level and felt in some ways like he couldn’t quite be bothered to put in the same amount of effort that he normally would. However, he acknowledged that and realized that it was probably his body just being a little tired, especially from the starved oxygen in the air. Fay started to find that she needed to tell herself what she was going to do next; almost like ordering myself to do something. This seemed to work really well, and we soon clicked into the enjoyment of where we were. We generally felt like we did absolutely fine here, but also wondered how much being at altitude for a few hours really helped.

    In the past, we’ve headed up to 3,000m on cable cars and found slight headaches coming on as the day goes by. We’d read that it can be useful to take ibuprofen leading up to being at altitude. We both took Ibuprofen regularly the day before and on the morning of this particular part of the trip and drank a lot of water. Headache free, we can say we think that it really helped. We started to realize that this was all about making new habitual patterns so that when we were at altitude, we could fall back on a set of ‘brain commands’ for when we were not as responsive as we would be at sea level. It was about trying to make ourselves as smart and sharp as possible to over compensate for the brain fog you get higher up. We took Ibuprofen for much of the trip, especially before the days we were going to head up to above 3,000m.

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    Our next destination was Gran Paradiso National Park, Italy, where we’d be camping in one of the many campsites available in the park, which you can read more abouthere. The next four days would put us at 2,000m above sea level with all of the hikes we had planned starting from the front door of our tent. We were really excited about this part of the trip, and in retrospect it was actually the most challenging part. Gran Paradiso is a fairly sizeable National Park, but unlike a lot of the Alps, the only way into a lot of it is to hike. This was certainly not a place with cable cars and mountain passes like many of the places we’d visited previously. It was obvious, here, you needed to work for your views.

    We arrived later than we’d planned (traffic seemed to be a major factor with all of our driving distances on this trip) and were tired. Once we had our pitch, we went to set up and we’ve got to say, trying to inflate an air mattress at altitude posed a new problem we’d not really thought of! Fay set about making dinner and realized she was feeling a bit disorientated. She couldn’t work out if it was to do with the altitude or the tiredness from the setting up of everything, but she was starting to see that there appeared a connection between tiredness and altitude. When she set out to find the ingredients we needed for dinner, everything was all mixed around in the bags from the journey and it took her a really long time to find everything she needed. She started to feel really emotional and got really hard on herself because she felt a bit like a failure – she couldn’t even find the ingredients she needed for a meal. She quickly realized this wasn’t going to help her and realized she just needed to be kinder to herself. She quickly realized that her responses were slower at altitude. The views from our campsite more than made up for it though, and we felt genuinely moved by the big nature that was all around us, waiting to be explored.

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    Heading to bed, we both found ourselves waking up many times in the night, often feeling like we were gasping or coughing; this is meant to be quite common at altitude. The following day, we woke up early. It looked like there would be heavy rain in the afternoon and we’d made the decision to set off early on our first hike. We felt the air right away, and we found this really interesting. This was by far not the highest we’d ever been, but it was certainly the highest we’d ever slept. As we started to move, we kept the pace slower than we usually would on a lower altitude hike and this seemed to work well. The path for a while was gravel, which was easy going, but we both felt the air harder to breath almost immediately. As we began climbing up hill on the steep rocky steps, we felt clumsy; feet going one way and walking poles in the other. It was fine, but we both felt a need to keep an eye on each other as some of the clumsy foot moves could have resulted in twisted ankles. We realized at this point that we probably wouldn’t always feel like this at this altitude as we became more used to it, but for the time being, we needed to make sure we were really giving ourselves more care and attention than usual.

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    After a few km, we stopped for a break. We decided that we’d turn around and head back to the campsite, take a rest of a while and perhaps head out for another hike in the afternoon. Headaches and clumsiness started to come on as we got back to camp, and we set out our chairs in the sunshine and drank coffee. We felt so tired that we didn’t even think to reapply sun cream and came away from that morning with sunburn. We ate lunch which seemed to take about forty hours to make and remarked on how tired we felt. We involuntarily seemed to fall asleep for what felt like the whole of the afternoon; completely oblivious to the pouring rain that was hammering down on our tent. The rain stopped and we woke up and decided to go for another walk, this time, we’d just see how far we could get. We realized that our afternoon sleep and ibuprofen/water combo had helped and as we took it slowly, managed to go a lot further than we had earlier. The following day rolled in and we decided to take it easy for a few hours in the morning. The thing that we were finding here was that we had quite little motivation to do anything. We didn’t want to hike, shoot or really do anything. A running theme for us in this whole section was feeling a little like a failure and that we shouldn’t be feeling like this. ‘There are many people who spend their time at much higher altitudes than this, and they always seem fine’, we kept saying to ourselves. But this wasn’t helpful, and we spent a lot of time in inner turmoil trying to talk ourselves out of this. That afternoon, we both got really upset stomachs, headaches and just felt rotten. We took it easy that day much to our hatred apart from a relatively short hike.

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    We had plans at Gran Paradiso to spend so much time hiking, and on relatively challenging routes. What we were given, though, was beautiful scenery, shorter hikes and the perfect conditions to acclimatize for the third and final section of our trip in Zermatt, Switzerland. You have to take things as and where they are and move with that. Sticking to a rigid plan is literally going to strip you of your joy.

    The final day, we set out on a hike and couldn’t have felt much more different from the previous days. We set out a little later, so that we’d had more sleep. We’d been taking ibuprofen quite regularly which had helped with our headaches and we’d done many smaller hikes to higher elevations and slept lower, so there was a good chance we were fairly well acclimatized by this point. We won’t go as far as to say that we breezed through the hike but going uphill didn’t really feel that bad. We felt ourselves wanting to shoot a lot more, and actually enjoying the scenery rather than just trying to power through it. Sure, this section of the trip didn’t go exactly as we’d planned, but by the end, we’d had a great lesson in being at altitude and how best to look after ourselves. We observed that in future we’d need to allow a couple of days to acclimatize in order to be able to make the most of things.

    By the end of our Gran Paradiso section, we felt a lot sharper and much more ‘with it’ than we had before.

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    Zermatt would see us at higher altitudes than we ever had before but based on how we felt on our trip so far, were very confident about this. We were going to be creating some content for Zermatt tourism, and we saw this as a great opportunity to further work on how we were dealing with being at altitude and the work arounds to this that we were learning. Our first hike saw us begin at 2,500m, and we had absolutely no problem with it at all. We think it could have been that we’d settled into a pace and rhythm whilst hiking that seemed to work for us over the last few days. We were amazed by the scenery and our constant views of the Matterhorn and couldn’t get enough. The apathetic feeling of not wanting to photograph that we’d felt before certainly wasn’t a problem anymore! By the end of the hike, we’d noticed that the uphill sections had left us feeling quite heavily out of breath, but we handled it really well. We made sure we forced ourselves to eat as we found we didn’t think of food at all (appetite is something well known to decrease at altitude) and found it best to take snacks you’ll really enjoy (so we swapped trail bars for dark chocolate with nuts in). We felt pretty happy with ourselves and how we’d acclimated to this.

    The following day, we headed up to the Matterhorn Glacier Paradise at 3,883m as part of our article for Zermatt tourism which you can read here. Sadly, we didn’t really get to comment too much on how the air felt up that high, as we didn’t spend too long up there. We had thick cloud roll in on our way up that completely blocked our views. Whilst we did have some truly incredible views on the cable cars up and down, we don’t really feel like we got the true experience there we were hoping for. However, one thing we’ve absolutely realized is that being at altitude for a couple of hours is not the same as being at altitude for a number of days. We’d always recommend that in order to acclimate properly, have the best chance of completing your hike and really enjoy your trip, to sleep at altitude and go higher and higher during the day, returning lower at night.

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    The rest of this trip saw us hiking at around 3,000m. We were very much aware of the altitude, but it didn’t affect us too badly and we really did feel like we were really well acclimated to that altitude. We’d worked really hard to put some of our new habits into practice; the slower walking pace, checking in on each other, realizing we would be more out of breath and being very mindful of our footing. With regards to photography, once we realized we had to pay more attention, such as checking photo exposure and such, we felt like we were doing well.

    We came away from this experience feeling like we had a much better understanding of how we worked at altitude and how to compensate for it – we also felt quite a bit fitter and by the end of the trip on our couple of days break in Paris, we walked close to 30km in one day and didn’t even notice it.

    What we’ve learnt so far as we prepare for our bigger project and start to get an idea of how we cope at altitude, is that it is nothing to be scared of. Of course, being aware of the serious signs of altitude sickness is incredibly important. It became clear to us that one of the biggest ways to see how you cope with altitude is to get used to how your body handles it in different ways. If you’re heading out on a hike at high altitude and you’ve never done anything like that before, you’re potentially going to derail your chances if you’re feeling really anxious about it and worrying every time you experience a new sensation in your body.

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    We found this experience to be invaluable in our development, and without it, probably wouldn’t feel as confident about the high-altitude trip we’re about to embark on in California. As we said, these goals don’t need to be big and unattainable, they can be achievable and manageable – and you can have a whole lot of fun seeing some amazing places along the way!

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  • Getting the Most Out of Your Weekend Photography with Fujifilm X Series

    This post is sponsored byFujifilm UK, all views and opinions are our own

    It’s a widely held belief that the best landscape photography comes from meticulous planning and knowing your location intimately.It’s certainly true that when you’ve visited a place over and over again, you start to get a feeling for how the light changes through the day and through the year.You’ll know, for example, that if you want to get a great image of certain mountain peak, then you might need to be in a certain spot on a late summer evening when the light from the setting sun will hit the peak in just the right way.If you read the writings of many landscape photographers, with their accounts of waiting days for the right light or planning photographs months in advance, then you’d be forgiven for thinking that this is the only way to make great landscape images.

    There’s just one problem.This approach doesn’t fit with the way most people experience landscape photography.

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    We’re not for a moment trying to say that there’s no merit in familiarity with your locations and pre-planning shots to get the best light.We regularly re-visit locations and with each repeated visit, we feel we get a better understanding of the place and this absolutely translates into better photography.However, most of the time, we find ourselves in new locations often with just a short period of time to photograph them.We always do research before we visit a place – and that typically means Google images searches and looking the place up on Instagram.You will usually find stunning images in these searches, but what happens when you get to the place and the light is not ‘right’?We’re sure many of you will recognise this situation: you might be on a holiday somewhere and you take a day to visit a national park, a mountain range or a stretch of coast.You have high expectations of being able to capture some amazing images (after all, searching the place on Instagram has shown you just how beautiful that place can be), but as soon as you arrive the sky turns grey and it starts to rain.

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    Well, this situation does not have to be a disaster.Sure, there are some situations where the weather has put a stop to our photography plans for a day – flat grey skies and driving rain in England, or dense fog in the Alps spring to mind – but the nature of how we travel, often only having a short period of time in each location, means that we have become adept at working around this problem.In fact, we’d go as far as to say that we now consider unexpected weather more as an opportunity than a problem, and dealing with it, one of our specialities and strengths. We believe modern photography isn’t about perfection, it is about getting out there and enjoying.

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    We found ourselves in just such a situation earlier this year.We were on a trip to America and had based ourselves out of Los Angeles.This was a working trip and aside from various commercial commitments, we were there to produce content for the blog and our Instagram feed aside from the whole excitement of spending two months in another country, living in a very different way.This meant getting in as many hikes in as many different areas as possible and in the course of our research, we came across the Alabama Hills.

    First things first, despite what the name suggests, the Alabama Hills are very much in California.From our base in Hollywood, the drive to Lone Pine, the nearest town to the Alabama Hills, was just over 320km (200miles) heading directly north.The hills are located in the Owens Valley and are flaked to the West by the High Sierra mountains – including Mt. Whitney which at 4,421m is the highest mountain in the ‘Lower 48’ States.To the East, they are flanked by the Inyo Mountains – not as tall as the Sierras, but equally spectacular and home to ancient Bristle Cone Pine Trees.Directly over the Inyo Mountains further to the East lies Death Valley National Park where one can find the lowest point in America (-86m) – it is interesting that the lowest and highest point in the ‘Lower 48’ are so relatively close to each other.

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    On this trip, we had been very fortunate to once again partner up with Fujifilm UK who had provided us with their GFX system to test out.We were equipped with a GFX 50S body along with the VG-GFX1 vertical grip.In terms of lenses, we had the two zooms: the GF32-64mm f/4 and the GF100-200mm f/5.6 along with a 1.4x teleconverter.This was a camera system we’d been keen to try since it was first released.Matt had some brief hands-on time with it shortly after it was released, but you can’t fully evaluate a camera based on half an hour in a camera store, so we were eager to put the system through its paces on location.

    In many ways, the GFX system is very similar to Fujifilm’s X Series system – and if you have any experience with the X Series cameras, you will feel right at home with the GFX.We used the X Series cameras earlier this year on our trip to the Pyrenees and our experiences can be foundhere.Much of what we said in that article is directly relevant to the GFX.The key selling point of the GFX system is its Medium Format sensor.Coming in at 44x33mm this is noticeably larger than a full frame DSLR sensor (36x24mm) and significantly larger than a crop frame sensor like those found in Fujifilm’s own X Series (23.5×15.6mm) – though it is worth noting that all Medium Format digital cameras have sensors that would be considered at the small end of Medium Format film formats.As the name suggests, the GFX 50S features a 50-megapixel sensor – in fact this is the same sensor you’ll find used in high end medium format backs costing many times as much as the GFX 50S.

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    The Alabama Hills are a truly spectacular location – an almost alien desert landscape of weathered rock formations.This desert landscape is offset by the backdrop of the jagged spires of the High Sierras – which when we visited still had substantial snow cover.The combination of a desert leading to snow-capped peaks is not unique to this part of the world, but none the less it is quite a visually arresting combination and is just begging to be photographed.You might find the area looks familiar and this is because it is a popular filming location.Many Westerns were shot here from the 1920s on and the area is still a popular location – it doubled for Afghanistan in the first Iron Man movie for instance.The links to Hollywood run deep and the main road through the area is called ‘Movie Road’, leading to places like ‘Lone Ranger Canyon’.The motel we stayed in had an impressive display of Western memorabilia in the lobby – we didn’t realise that commemorative John Wayne porcelain plates were such a big deal!

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    Before we set out for the Alabama Hills, we’d done our research.We’d found plenty of spectacular images and the evening we arrived we were treated to some beautiful evening light, with the mountains almost seeming to glow.The next day – and we were intending to drive back to LA at the end of the day, so it was also our last day there – was a different story.It was much more overcast than the previous day – the clear blue sky punctuated by dramatic wisps of cloud had been replaced with flat grey.This in turn led to less defined shadows on the landscape and more muted colours in the rocks.

    Comparing the light we had that day against the images we found during our research, it would be tempting to right the day off as a wash-out, but that simply was not an option for us.This weekend was our only opportunity to photograph here and we would have to make it work!Fortunately, our experience told us this would not be a problem.It’s very easy to fall into an ‘expectations trap’ when you visit a new location: your visual research can often lead you to build up an expectation of what you’ll find when you reach a place: clear blue skies, golden light, crisp shadows etc. etc.When the reality isn’t exactly this, it is very easy to be disappointed: your photos are not going to be exactly as you imagined they would be.

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    It’s certainly easier said than done, but we’ve found that one of the keys to successful landscape photography is to ignore this mindset.You need to be more opportunistic and to learn to work with what the environment gives you.That overcast morning at the Alabama Hills, we overheard another photographer complain to his partner that he couldn’t get what he wanted as he packed his gear away.Shortly afterwards we got talking to yet another photographer who said he was disappointed that the light wasn’t as brilliant as what he’d seen in images online.We think this is a dangerous way to think! If you’re constantly comparing the scene you are photographing to an ‘ideal’ version you’ve previously seen, then it’s fair to say you are going to be disappointed most of the time.

    Once you can ditch the idea that your images of a place need to look exactly like everybody else’s, then you can start to use the weather as a tool or another compositional device: overcast skies may look flat and grey, for instance, but look closer and you’ll often see there’s more than meets the eye.With careful exposure, there’s the potential to bring out spectacular detail.We are big fans of clouds – they can be a tremendous compositional element – and sometimes overcast or slightly stormy days are the best opportunity to make use of them.

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    It’s also well worth looking around you: most of the photographers we saw at the Alabama Hills were framing up their images with the Sierras in the background.This makes sense as they do provide a spectacular backdrop but looking the other way towards the Inyo Mountains allowed us to get some great images that most of the other photographers we saw were simply ignoring (or just not seeing!).Situations like this always remind us of a sunset we saw in Joshua Tree National Park a few years previously.We were at the Cholla Cactus Garden – a popular spot to photograph the sunset and there were plenty of other photographers there.We quickly realised that the best images were to be had looking the other way to the sunset: the last rays of light illuminated the mountains in a beautiful purple light.We were the only photographers with our backs to the setting Sun that evening and the images we got there remain amongst our favourites.

    You may not have an intimate knowledge of how the light will change across a place, but there are certain steps you can take to prepare yourself.Whilst researching the Alabama Hills, we saw some beautiful images of the Sierras directly illuminated by the Sun.We know that the Sun rises in the East and sets in the West, so given that the Sierras lie to the West of the Alabama hills, we could easily work out that if we wanted them directly illuminated they would be best photographed in the morning – in the evening, the setting Sun will backlight them whilst directly illuminating the Inyo Mountains which lie to the East.You can use planning like this to inform your shooting plans for the day – handy if you’re working in large area and have a lot of different shots you want to cover!

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    Another favourite tactic of ours is to look for details and smaller compositions.We’vewritten before about why we love using long lenses for landscape photography to isolate elements and to create something different to the typical wide-angle ‘general views’ most landscape photographers seem to produce.For our trip to the Alabama Hills, we made good use of the GF100-200mmF5.6 lens along with the 1.4x converter which replicates well the angle of view you’d get with a 70-200mm on a full frame DSLR.You might also want to look at ways you can build a narrative within your images: photographing the same feature form different angles in different light throughout the day is one example, but it might also be a series of images shot in similar light, or a series of similar shapes or forms from different locations – the scope here is vast!

    We are not fans of the term ‘epic’ when it comes to landscapes – it really is overused to the point of being almost meaningless – but the American West is a place where it’s still valid.It is absolutely true to say that having good gear does not make you a good photographer, but at the same time, the camera system you use does matter and different systems bring different characteristics to your work.Being able to select the right camera for a given trip is a luxury we are fortunate to have and the GFX was a good fit for the landscape we found at the Alabama Hills.You often hear photographers talking about ‘The Medium Format Look’ in articles and forums.This is something that’s difficult to define and can’t be quantified as easily as, say, the number of megapixels a certain camera has.To try to explain it, it’s a certain look and feel you get from an image made with a larger sensor, which in turn necessitates using longer lenses than you would for the same angle of view on a smaller format camera.This look and feel was exactly why we always favoured Medium and Large Format over 35mm back when we shot film and it carries on to digital: We think there’s just something a bit more special about the images from a physically larger sensor.

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    Preconceptions are a dangerous thing in photography.The idea that your images should look a certain way can damage your creativity and your confidence.For many photographers it can be difficult to shake this (and this can be even more-so if you’ve had formal photographic education – in Art Theory you are taught that no idea is truly original), but once you can take a step out of the box, to see things through your own eyes rather than through the work of others, then we guarantee that the results will be worth it!

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