Helvellyn In Winter

The Lake District will always have a place in my heart, and is an area of the UK that I am drawn to time and time again. Why? Difficult to say - there's the rugged fells, the peaceful lakes, the dramatic weather, and many other alluring sides to its character. In combination they produce an area that is unlike any other, an area full of photographic opportunity.

Of course the factors listed above don't guarantee successful photography, you still need put in some leg work - quite literally if you want some sunset photos in winter from England's third highest peak...

The photos you see in this post weren't ones that had specifically been in my mind before we set out on this walk, but the general ideas were there and, more importantly, we had planned the timing and the day of our walk to at least give us a chance.

The hours just before and after sunset are often spectacular and this day was no exception. We reached the top of Helvellyn about 30 minutes before sunset, having spent a fantastic day high on the hills. The gentle curve leading to the summit was ideal for an photo, and Blencathra in the background was glowing in the evening sun. Click!

From a gear point of view we had been unsure of the fell top conditions, so my rucksack this day included crampons and ice axe and I had chosen to go light on my camera kit. I had decided to forgo a tripod, leave the filter kit at home and bring just two lenses. Perhaps with hindsight I would have put up with the extra weight, but as it was I ended up hand-holding and relying upon lens stabilisation to help balance shutter speed with aperture and subsequent depth of field.

 

Shooting in RAW without the benefit of a graduated filter meant that the aim of the game for the day was to expose as far to the right of the histogram as possible, being careful not to clip the highlights. The foregrounds were typically still left looking a little dark so post-processing included giving these a little lift. Some selective dodging and burning was then performed, adding further life to the images.

 

We certainly weren't the only ones out on the fells this day, and others were also clearly enjoying the views. In the distance a man stood alone on a summit, admiring the scene and the beauty of the sunset.

As we began to descend, still above the snowline, the setting sun cast it's slanting rays through the gathering mist in the valleys below. The scenery came alive and crouched down on one knee, camera held steady, it was time for another shot. If you want to try and work out the peaks in the background then feel free - a starting point is Great Gable on the left and Grisedale Pike on the right.

By definition sunset photography requires you to be in location as the sun is setting, and with a location high on the fells we were always going to end up walking downhill in the dark - forward preparation was as much about ensuring we had the equipment to return home safely as it was about the photography. Prior knowledge of the route was great help here, removing any element of doubt as our descent was completed via the dim glow of our head torches.

We weren't the last to leave the tops though, and even as we descended into the darkness, the outline of others could still be made out high up on the ridges - walking steadily along under the weight of their packs.

I haven often heard people comment that you need to be lucky to take good photos. In part this is true - you do often need a small element of luck. However there are so many steps you can take to weight the odds in your favour - look at the weather, pre-visualise your shots, make sure you're in the best location at the best time of the day. Take these steps and you increase your chances tenfold. You may return home tired, but you'll remember the day for a long time to come.