I think we're going to have to stop going to Norway in the winter. Last time a pandemic broke out. This time a war. This isn't a good track record. Nevertheless, we had a great week of langrenn - the Norwegian for cross-country skiing - chalking up over 150 km in seven days, not bad for my sorry, nearly 54-year-old carcass. Where the skiing conditions were (mostly) great, I found the photography quite challenging. Even in the mountains, everything's somehow a lot lower to the horizon in southern Norway, making big open panoramas a challenge. I've found this before, but previously we've had some fantastic skies to make up for it. This time we had largely blue skies - the landscape photographer's nemesis. But this did mean we had some good evening and night conditions. And it wasn't as perishingly cold as our 2020 trip either; then our maximum temperature during the whole week had been -9°C one lunchtime, this time the day-time temperatures pushed above freezing once or twice, there was a lot less snow and we didn't get nearly as much hoarfrost as last time. I had looked forward to having the same conditions that we'd had on our last half-day skiing through the forest in the mist with frost on the trees. But what we did find more than made up for it.
Even though this photo is actually from the very last evening, I'm going to post it here for the very simple reason that it was my stand-out experience from the week and the first image is the one that gets posted to social media when I share the link.
Northern Lights over Skeikampen || Olympus 8 mm, f/3.2, 2.5", ISO 6400
The story behind this shot is that we'd settled down for the evening after our last supper together and one of our hosts, university friends who had moved to southern Norway when we first came to Munich, was innocently scrolling through Facebook when she spotted a local post of a photo of the Northern Lights that appeared to have just been taken. I was set up for an evening slobbing before returning home to Germany the next day. Last time we had been here I had done a couple of night shots on an evening where the Aurora forecast had been relatively high (there's an app for that) and had found a strange green band at the bottom of my astro photos. On the off-chance that Saturday's Lights might be a bit stronger, I donned my outside apparel and popped round the corner. My first reaction was one of disappointment. There appeared to be a band of greyish cloud low on the horizon, but no sign of the green Aurora. Just to be absolutely sure I pulled out my P30 Pro smartphone, put it in night photo mode and took a quick snap, and was blown away by the massive green cloud dominating the lower half of the sky. So I dashed back to get the others and grab my camera and tripod. After a first few test shots, I set up the Olympus for a time lapse and just sat back to enjoy the show. Here's a 45 min time lapse condensed down to 35 sec. If you're interested in the tech details, ISO 6400, f/3.2, 2.5" using the PL 8-18 at 8 mm (yes, I could have opened up even wider, but heat of the moment and all that...) The mountain (Skeikampen) is floodlit at night and a little blown out. I denoised using the new OM Workspace and batch processed the photos in ON1 Photo Raw 2022 and generated the time-lapse there too. If I´d had more time, I might have found a better composition, but I'm reasonably pleased with the outcome.
Anyway, that was the last evening. Now back to day 1. As mentioned before, the prevailing weather pattern was high pressure and blue skies. We'd only done a short løype in the morning and decided to take a trek up to the Bjørga, a nearby viewpoint overlooking the cabin settlement of Skeikampen and Austlid. We skied up before dinner hoping to catch sunset on the local peaks and my plan was to hang around to catch the blue hour before skiing down using my head torch. My guilty secret as a landscape photographer is that I really struggle with sunset photography, especially when there is low cloud cover - getting the exposure right is very tricky. This was just before the sun sank below the western horizon. I did end up waiting around alone for almost an hour and a half to catch the first stars, but with the clouds ebbing away I thought this was the better shot.
Sunset from Bjørga || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/60", ISO 200
Day two opened overcast, cold and windy and provided the best hoarfrost conditions of the week. We headed up over the back of the Skeikampen. Cresting the ridge we found the clouds lifting briefly, giving us hope that the weather might turn for the better. Unfortunately the reverse turned out to be the case and we actually found ourselves taking the skis off on the steep løype over the Prestkampen before finding shelter from the wind in the lee of the hut at Skardbua. We had originally planned to carry on into the hills, but the sense of gratitude that we all felt for having safely found the cabin in the mist recommended the more sensible course of skiing down and back to our friends' hytte.
Frozen Outcrop, Skeikampen || Olympus 18 mm, f/8, 1/250", ISO 200
Every now and then I get carried away with the photography (hey, it happens ok, don't pick on me!) and my people get away from me. This turned out to be one of my favourite shots of the week, just before conditions turned quite nasty. The reason I like it so much is that it really captures the moment and embodies the feeling that you experience being up in the Fjells in winter: Isolation, cold, beauty. The splash of light on the ridge on the right really brings the scene to life though.
In the Fjells || Olympus 18 mm, f/8, 1/160", ISO 200
The following day was windy and cold but the skies had cleared. The snow-sculptures left by the wind gave some great foreground for images of the surrounding peaks like this. I even managed to catch some spindrift.
Snowsculptures and Spindrift || Olympus 18 mm, f/8, 1/500", ISO 200
One of the things I always watch out for in the snow is stream beds. I love how snow 'covers a multitude of sins', making complicated and messy scenes simple. At the same time, a little variety spices up a vista and a dip in the snow marking a stream running under the surface will liven up a photo immensely. Taking this to monochrome in ON1 reduces such features to the essential elements. The tone curves of simple black and white reduce the images to their essential elements - tones of grey. I had another of these with the edge of the forest in the background. In the end, I decided to go with the 'less is more' principle and restrict the image to the meadow beside the track.
Snowfolds || Olympus 35 mm, f/8, 1/500", ISO 200
When we were here back in 2020, we had a memorable long tour out to the hotel at Fagerhøy, a 30 km round trip. It was a really cold day with strong cross-winds the whole time. It had been so cold that there was ice on the inside of the sleeves of my softshell jacket when we arrived. Back in 2022, day 5 turned out to be a lot milder and less windy and so we headed back out over the Fjells. Skardbua was a different place compared to two days previously.
Behind Skardabua || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1/500", ISO 200
The long views over Jotuenheim behind Fagerhøy were spectacular. I love it when the trees and bushes in scenes like this are outlined in snow, or at least a good casing of frost. Unfortulately that wasn't going to be the case today, but hey, at least I wasn't shaking ice out of my sleeves.
Fagerhøy and Jotunheimen || Olympus 29 mm, f/8, 1/400", ISO 200
All skiing and no sightseeing makes Mike a dull boy. Towards the end of the week we decided that we could bunk off for the afternoon and drove down to Ringebu to check out their Stavkirke in the snow. This is one of Norway's 28 remaining wooden churches built using medieval techniques. I think we've saw five of them during our 2018 southern Norway road trip, including Ringebu, so we haven't chalked up another one unfortunately. I could easily imagine making a road-trip some time to try to take them all in. They're fantastic buildings, wonderfully photogenic under the right conditions and some of them sit beautifully in their settings - Lom immediately springs to mind. The low afternoon light really caught the colours nicely and the wispy clouds really help make the sky look a little less boring.
Ringebu Stavkirke || Olympus 16 mm, f/8, 1/125", ISO 200
Sharon spotted this scene on the cliffs above the løype on our last day out. Ideally I would have shot this earlier in the day with the sun low and illuminating the ice, but this was making the best of it.
Frozen Waterfall || Olympus 100 mm, f/4, 1/640", ISO 200
This next one is a shot that I've been trying to pull off for quite a while, though not yet as good as I would like (or as big - the longest focal length I had with me was 100 mm). It shows the new moon, but exposed to reveal the dark portion of the moon. The shot I'm really after is one where you can still see detail on both the lit and unlit portions of the moon and requires a little jiggery-pokery. The thing I've always found challenging is avoiding light-spill from the light side to the dark. Maybe I'll get it right some time in 2022...
New Moon at Austlid || Olympus 100 mm, f/5.6, 4", ISO 200
I'm going to throw in a last black and white, just for fun. I love the forms these streams leave in the snow and this one had eroded the drift all the way down to the water. Looking at this as I write I may have to re-edit it so that the diagonal leaves the image directly into the corner. The trick with these monochromes is to make sure that you use the whole tonal range from black to white in the image without blowing out areas, provided it's not deliberately supposed to be high- or low-key. There's so much to take in here from the soft curves to the spiky ice crystals on the stream bed, one of those images that the eye loves to dwell in.
Frozen Heart || Olympus 34 mm, f/11, 1/400", ISO 200
What is it about the Dolomites that draws us (my wife and I) back again and again? For some reason, this region has a hold on both of us and won't let us go. The impressive peaks, green meadows and constantly changing skies are like a drug, so when I saw an advert several months ago for a week-long astrophotography workshop in the mountains around Cortina, I just knew that I had to go. Once I had the hall-pass in pocket I registered and was very happy to be able to secure one of the restricted places.
The week leading up to the trip I was busy studying the weather forecasts to see whether we were going to be in luck or not. It wasn't looking too good, but I wasn't overly concerned because even if we didn't get clear skies, this was the Dolomites. There would be photos a plenty to be had even in the worst weather. I wasn't wrong.
Tofana and Lagazoi || Olympus 9 mm, f/8, 1/200 s, ISO 200
Day 1 - Lago Misurina, d'Antorno and Rifugio Auronzo
One of the other participants picked me up early on the Tuesday morning and we headed off down to the meeting point at Lago Misurina, a popular lake nestled among the mountains with Punta Sorapis providing a dramatic backdrop to the essentially deserted hotel at the lake's head. The overcast weather on this first visit of the week to Misurina didn't really invite photos of the larger landscape, but there were plenty of mini-scenes waiting for our cameras.
Reeds at Misurina || Olympus 86 mm, f/5.6, 1/320 s, ISO 200
Several hours after we arrived, the rest of the group appeared and after working out where to leave the remaining cars for the week, we headed up to the more intimate Lago d'Antorno before driving up the toll road to Rifugio Auronzo. We'd parked at Auronzo many times over the years, but this was the first time I'd spend the night here.
Solitary Feather || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/30 s, ISO 200
After a general round of introductions, our instructors informed us what we could expect from the week ahead and I was excited to catch some new perspectives of places that were very familiar to me, as well as taking in a couple of new locations. It was interesting to learn that only a couple of us had any experience at all at taking nocturnal images - most were complete novices.
Cima Cadin della Neve || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/30 s, ISO 200
Our first evening saw us hiking a trail southwards towards Monte Compardelle below the imposing Cima Cadin della Neve to capture some evening shots. Golden hour gave way to the blue hour without much fanfare as the cloud cover was simply too thick for most shots. I quickly rediscovered my aversion for shooting photos in a huddle. Whilst everyone else seemed to be preoccupied with Cadin, I turned around and focussed on the Tre Cime, seeing them from an angle I had never had before. Shooting in the blue hour isn't always easy as the way the eye perceives light and the way the camera perceives light aren't always the same. I find that the best photos occur around the time where I think it's too dark for photography; I noticed this when I was shooting from the Kranzberg with Matthias back in May and the same happened here. This is pretty much the last shot I took before giving up for the evening. The lights are those of Rifugio Auronzo, our beacon for the route back.
Tre Cime and Rifugio Auronzo || Olympus 20 mm, f/8, 1/2 s, ISO 200
Day 2 - Auronzo to Locatelli and Back
If anything, the forecast for day 2 was worse than day 1. After breakfast we headed off on the well-trodden route to Rifugio Locatelli (a.k.a. the Dreizinnenhütte) via Forcella Lavaredo. We wanted to be out and back in good time since thunderstorms were predicted for the afternoon, conditions that we really didn't want to be caught out in.
Chapel on the way to Forcella Lavaredo || Olympus 400 mm, f/6.3, 1/1000 s, ISO 200
It was strange being out in territory that I was very familiar with in the context of a bunch of strangers. I was able to demonstrate my local knowledge by introducing one of the guides to a tunnel affording a view of the Tre Cime that he hadn't previously been aware of. In return we became privy to a great panorama spot for taking shots of the Tre Cime together with Locatelli and Monte Paterno, a shot which one of the workshop leaders had previously immortalised with his image Magic Dolomites. Even if we didn't have the best weather, at least I know now exactly where to head to in order to capture something similar one day when the conditions allow it.
Dolomite Poppies || Olympus 12 mm, f/11, 1/200 s, ISO 200
The weather was so poor that evening that we didn't even venture out for the non-existent sunset. Stefan promised that he'd check the cloud cover at regular intervals during the night and wake us if anything promising came up - a really great service! There was a brief break in the clouds around midnight, but only a couple of people dared the elements to catch a glimpse of the stars between the clouds, but that was all it was.
Locatelli alle Tre Chime || Olympus f/8, 1/250 s, ISO 200
Day 3 - Auronzo to Scoiatolli and the Cinque Torri
There's a song from my childhood titled "Hello Muddah, hello Fadduh." The text describes a fictional letter home from a child who's been sent away to camp for the summer, complaining about the weather, the other kids, and generally begging to be allowed to come home on promise of best behaviour. The letter closes with an update that the weather has taken a sudden swing for the better and implores Muddah and Fadduh to disregard the rest of the letter. So it was with day 3. We awoke to mist clinging to the mountains and clearing skies. We were of course all out on the balcony overlooking the valley and Cima Cadin della Neve before breakfast, snapping away. I even had a chance to sneak in a time-lapse of the fog fingers creeping through the peaks.
Mist Time Lapse
Misty Mountain Hop || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/100 s, ISO 64
Sun Breaking Through || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/60 s, ISO 64
As the Mist Lifts... || Olympus 16 mm, f/9, 1/80 s, ISO 64
Rifugio Auronzo || Olympus 9 mm, f/16, 1/100 s, ISO 200
The prospect of better weather changed the mood of the whole group and we were suddenly cautiously optimistic about the prospect of getting some astrophotography in that night. Stopping at the lakes d'Antorno and Misurina on the way down to re-capture some of the images of day 1 in better conditions, we finally headed off to Cinque Torri.
D'Antorno Revisited || Olympus 15 mm, f/8, 1/160 s, ISO 200
Dolomite Reflections || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/250 s, ISO 200
Lago Misurina || Olympus 100 mm, f/10, 2 s, ISO 200
The car park at the bottom of the chair lift up to the Rifugio Scoiatolli was full to overflowing, but we managed to squeeze the minibuses into a gap on the access road. Before heading up the mountain, our guides took us to the tiny Lago Bain de Dones, an otherwise fairly non-descript woodland lake that afforded some beautiful reflections of the Tofana range opposite us. The excessive rainfall of the previous 24 h had rendered the water extremely muddy and flooded the path at the lake's edge, forcing us to detour through the undergrowth. Maybe under better conditions the lake would have been a worthwhile photo op, but I wasn't able to get anything decent out of it.
Tofana || Olympus 10 mm, f/8, 1/200 s, ISO 200
Given the state of the car park, it was no surprise to find the restaurant at the Rifugio heaving with people. The hut itself is absolutely beautiful and a very welcome change to the more functional Auronzo hut. The food, too, was exceptional, meaning that we will very definitely be back here some time in the future. We spent the afternoon shooting the cr@p out of the eponymous Five Towers and scouting the area below the hut for suitable spots for capturing the Milky Way that night. We still weren't 100% certain of the cloud levels; Clear Outside was still indicating a 15% chance of high cloud (or was it low cloud?) - hardly surprising given the previous day's weather. Even as the sun was setting, there were still clouds on the horizon.
Big Skies over Croda da Lago || Olympus 10 mm, f/8, 1/200 s, ISO 200
Broody Skies || Olympus 86 mm, f/8, 1/13 s, ISO 200
Our mood over dinner was on the exuberant side. Finally we were going to have a crack at taking some astro images. I've never sat at a table in a mountain hut in the evening with so little alcohol being consumed. We were all being exceedingly abstemious, bearing in mind the need to stay awake and alert into the wee hours, or at least we were until one of our party spotted an extremely rare bottle of red wine on the wine list that he had to share with the group. I don't think I've ever drunk a wine with a list price closer to three figures than two, and it was very nice, but not something I'd ever think about buying for myself.
Cinque Torri and Rifugio Scoiatolli || Olympus Panorama, f/2.8, 6 s, ISO 800
After dinner, we headed out to the various spots that we'd scouted earlier in the day. When Sharon and I had passed by a closed Scoiatolli in autumn a couple of years ago, we had the impression that it stood on a cliff-edge. This couldn't be further from the truth. Below the Rifugio there's a warren of WW I trenches and hideouts. Most of the others had scouted a spot lower down the slopes, giving them a panorama shot with the Cinque Torri centre picture. My spot was significantly higher up with the Cinque Torri framing the left hand side of the picture, followed by the beautiful ridges of Croda da Lago and the peaks of Nuvolau and Averau because this composition had a much more personal connection to me.
Scoiatolli and Nuvolau || Olympus 12 mm, f/3.4, 240 s, ISO 800
I don't think I necessarily got the better composition, but I got some astro shots that I was pleased with, both with the tracker* and without. My single image (above) was taken with the tracker, the panorama (below) without due to time constraints. We only had around half an hour or so to shoot the Milky Way before the core dipped below the horizon. Three rows of 10 photos for the panorama at 30 s each meant a total of 15 min of exposure. Had I used the tracker, it would have taken me upwards of 2 h to catch the same data, not to mention taking a further set of foreground pictures without the tracker for still shots of the mountains.
*A (star) tracker is a device that allows photographers to take long photos of the stars without having the points degrade into lines due to the earth's rotation. Normally the limit for an exposure before star-trailing occurs is (500 / focal length) s - approximately 30 s with my m43 8 mm lens. In order to get anything worthwhile, I have to increase the ISO setting on the camera to 6400, resulting in a lot of excess noise in the images. With the star tracker I can shoot for 4 min at ISO 800, resulting in a much more pleasing image with significantly more colour and less noise.
Milky Way over Cinque Torri || Olympus 8 mm, f/2.8, 25 s, ISO 6400
As I reached the end of my 30-shot panorama, the clouds started rolling in and it was time to head back to the Rifugio, but not before taking a couple of last snaps of the Great Tower.
Cinque Torri by Night || Olympus 12 mm, f/3.3, 10 s, ISO 6400
Day 4 Scoiatolli to Passo Rolle
The night was short. At 4:30 am we were up again to shoot the dawn over the Towers. The sickle moon put in an appearance over the Great Tower as the first colour became visible in the sky.
New Moon in the Dolomites || Olympus 12 mm, f/8, 1 s, ISO 200
Then it was off to attempt to capture sun stars and flowers. At least that was the brief. I stopped off at a suitable looking patch of Adenostyles (yes, I did have to look that up) to wait for the sun to rise. As it happened, I was spot on with my positioning to catch the sun rising between the towers. In the end, I preferred this shot of the warm sun's rays coming through the gap rather than the sun star shot itself.
A New Day Dawns || Olympus 10 mm, f/16, 1/100 s, ISO 1600
Just One More... || Olympus Panorama, f/8, 1/160 s, ISO 200
After a hearty buffet breakfast back at the hut, we headed to the chairlift to carry on with out tour of the eastern Dolomites. Our goal for day four was a mountain lake above Passo Rolle in the south-eastern corner of the range. We spent a rather fruitless evening looking for more flowers to feature as foreground for the dominating peaks of Cima della Vezzana. Unfortunately all of the suitable species were over at this time of year. Clouds were also passing through, making shots of the pinnacles above us very elusive as well. The clouds put paid to any attempts at another evening of astrophotography and we arrived back at our accommodation a little dejected.
Day 5 Passo Rolle to Brunico via Lago Carezza
After a lazy breakfast we all piled back into the minibus for an arduous drive up and down the passes all the way to the northern edge of the Dolomites via Lago Carezza and Bozen, followed by short trips to Lago di Braies and the stone pyramids at Platten. It was a long day that tried all of our patience with closed roads, misleading directions, late lunches (I don't do well with low blood sugar!), complicated light and everything in between. Had we not all gotten on so well I think day 5 would have broken us as a group, but we survived the mixed bag that day 5 presented us with and ended the day having pizza (first time of the week) in a restaurant that we had pretty much to ourselves in a village just round the corner from the farmhouse that we stay at.
Lago Carezza was interesting, full of influenzas taking selfies and the usual tourists. In contrast to scarce flora at Passo Rolle, the rosebay willow herb was still out in force at the lake. The tips of the Diamantiditurm were engulfed in cloud, but the pink flowers contrasting against the turquoise water of the lake were irresistible.
Lago Carezza || Olympus 16 mm, f/8, 1/80 s, ISO 200
After a late lunch in Niederdorf the road to Lago di Braies was open. We arrived just as the rain started, but this actually enhanced the charm of the lake as well as chasing off all the tourists. The boats are so photogenic here, particularly with the beautiful blue waters. The dull light made long exposures easy to set up, smoothing out the lake surface.
Rowboats at Braies || Olympus 9 mm, f/8, 5 s, ISO 200
Lago di Braies || Olympus 9 mm, f/8, 5 s, ISO 200
Before heading back to the farm, we detoured up to the earth pyramids of Platten, an interesting rock formation revealed overnight by a flash flood in 1882.
The Platten Pyramids || Olympus 25 mm, f/8, 1/40 s, ISO 200
Day 6 Lago di Braies to Lago Misurina
On our last day, we were up again for dawn at Lago di Braies. My photos in the rain from the previous afternoon had much better colour than anything from this morning session. Having waited in vain for some dawn light we headed back to Brunico to pack and grab some breakfast before returning to Misurina to pick up the cars.
Conclusions
One of my photo-goals for 2021 was shooting a Milky Way panorama that I was happy with. I'd managed to get good arches both on the Kranzberg and at Raisting, but wasn't happy with the results because of the light pollution. Bagging shots that I am happy with at Cinque Torri made the whole trip worthwhile in my estimation.
We had a good week with mixed weather. It was no-one's fault that we only got one evening of astrophotography during the six days. The company was very welcome and I hope that we will be able to keep in touch with the other participants. I might have wished for a bit more instruction and feedback from our workshop leaders, but I still picked up some new tricks and discovered some interesting new spots to shoot from in better conditions. Would certainly do it again.
New moon is upon us once more and I was itching to get out and test not only my E-M1 Mk III that I bought after the but also Move Shoot Move star tracker that would let me break the 25 s exposure limit that I was experiencing with my present set up.
Mittenwald and the Karwendel || 6-shot panorama, Olympus 8 mm, f/5.6, 1/500 s, ISO 200
It's been a while since I was this keyed up for a trip of any sort and by Friday evening I must have had packed and unpacked my gear around 4 times already. Saturday morning and my rucksack was feeling suspiciously light. Huh? Oh yes, the all important camera gear bag. Phew.
It had been a couple of weeks since we'd had a leg-stretch and so Sharon and I set off for Garmisch after a comfortable breakfast on Saturday morning to hike up to the Hausberg. It had been raining on and off for the previous few days in Kaltenberg, but in the mountains it had been snowing. In the first light of sun, the tops were shining pristine and I was really excited about the night to come and the images we would hopefully be able to make. After last year's successes in the Allgäu I have absolutely fallen in love with taking photos in the mountains in early summer as the sun goes down. The snow fields radiate in the late evening light both before and after the sun goes down and I was trigger happy after a few weeks out of the field.
Wetterstein || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/640 s, ISO 200
The hike up the Hausberg afforded us occasional glimpses of the surrounding snow peaks but no real photo opportunities beyond the occasional spring flowers and a friendly squorrel. The saving grace of the tour was Weißbier and Wurst at the kiosk at the Bayernhaus. It's been too long!
Alpspitz through the Trees || Olympus 57 mm, f/8, 1/500 s, ISO 200
Forest Foliage || Olympus 100 mm, f/8, 1/640 s, ISO 200
Friendly Squorrel || Olympus 100 mm, f/5.6, 1/160 s, ISO 200
We were at the Mittenwald car park 10 min after Matthias arrived - not bad considering the different journeys we'd had. Sharon then returned home complete with my woolly hat and thermos flask of hot tea (entirely my fault) whilst Matthias and I headed up the Kranzberg via the delightfully situated Korbinian Hütte. Although my shoulders were aching like heck at this point due to all the photographic gear and warm clothing I was carrying in my ancient Deuter rucksack, our spirits were still high at this stage as the clear skies looked set to last.
Korbinian Hütte and Karwendel Spitze || Olympus 20 mm, f/5.6, 1/800 s, ISO 200
Unfortunately this wasn't the case and we arrived at the summit only to find clouds rolling in from the west. Although this might be fun for the sunset, it was not what we were looking for for the night. We used the time to set up the tripods and snap a few evening shots as well as taking a blue hour panorama of Mittenwald and the Karwendel that would later serve as foreground for the starry landscapes. We waited for the lights in the town to come out for this; a darkened-down shot of a light-less town would not look right and if we left it too late then the difference between the bright lights and the dark mountains would have been too much, plus the exposure would take several minutes at low ISO, time that we'd rather invest in the sky. The combination of sky and ground has to look natural for the photo to work.
Blue-Hour over Mittenwald || 6-shot panorama, Olympus 8 mm, f/8, 2 s, ISO 200
Now it was just a question of waiting for the clouds to go and the stars to come out. Olympus cameras have a built-in intervalometer and can automatically generate time-lapse videos from the shots. Here's my offering from the evening's shenanigans. I'd hoped to catch one of the Milky Way rising over the mountains as well, but failed in that undertaking.
There were plenty of vistas to occupy us while we waited; the Kranzberg boasts a 360° view of the Karwendel and Wetterstein mountains and we must have been able to see at least 50 or more summits of the surrounding mountains. We left the tripods where they were; they were important markers for taking the later shots, and one was recording a time lapse. There was enough light left not to need them with the Olympus cameras anyway. What they lack in noise levels when you jack the ISO up they make up for in spades with out-of-this-world image stabilisation.
Solitary Pine || Olympus 86 mm, f/5.6, 1/200 s, ISO 200
Skeletal Birch || Olympus 80 mm, f/5.6, 1/6 s, ISO 200
Kranzberg Gipfelhaus || Olympus 15 mm, f/5.6, 1/1000 s, ISO 200
Austrian Karwendel || Olympus 50 mm, f/5.6, 1/250 s, ISO 200
Wettersteinspitze || Olympus 20 mm, f/5.6, 1/100 s, ISO 200
Sunset Silhouette || Olympus 100 mm, f/5.6, 1/400 s, ISO 400
Unfortunately the clouds were teasingly reluctant. Although we could see a clear horizon to the west where the prevailing wind was coming from, the more it blew the more clouds seemed to appear. And Mittenwald is bright at night. Around midnight we began to see more and more stars appearing overhead, but the wind was increasing, the temperature decreasing and there were still bands of cloud over Munich, Mittenwald and Innsbruck that were robbing us of the darkness that you need for really good pictures of the Milky Way. I'd had high hopes of some cool blue-hour photos of the first stars over the Karwendel mountain range. They didn't manifest either.
Best of a Poor Sky || 2x6-Shot panorama, Olympus 8 mm, f/8/2.8, 1/640/25 s, ISO 200/3200
In the end I gave up around 12:30, giving it up as a bad job and retreating to the log cabin on top of the Kranzberg to shiver the night away on a hard wooden bench. Matthias stuck it out in the wind-shadow of the cabin and actually got a half-way decent shot of the arch of the Milky Way over the mountains during a 10 minute interval in the clouds, the composition that I'd been after. But even then, the galactic core wasn't popping the way it can sometimes and so I didn't berate myself for not having stuck it out. I was missing a vital bit of kit for getting a solid panorama anyway and I just wasn't feeling it after my hike during the day as well.
My sleep was interrupted around 4:00 am by a couple of revellers from the valley, who for some bizarre reason decided that the top of the Kranzberg was the ideal place to smoke some whacky baccy and sing badly to German rap blaring out of a ghetto blaster. They blinded Matthias' acquired night vision with a blast from their torch and generally annoyed us for 15-30 min before deciding that shorts and a hoody were insufficient protection from the elements and buggered off whence they had come. Good riddance.
We were up at 5:00 to catch a glimpse of first light. Of course all the interesting clouds had gone by this stage and all we were left with was that typical narrow but intense band of colour low on the horizon as the sun made its welcome face known.
Mountain Dawn || 3-Shot HDR Olympus 8 mm, f/5.6, 1/10 s, ISO 200
Pretty in Pink || Olympus 18 mm, f/5.6, 1/15 s, ISO 200
Matthias had one surprise composition left before we headed down to the car and home, an alpine meadow complete with wooden hay barn in front of the Wettersteinspitze. Another tricky exposure that I've had to exposure blend to make the barn visible against the bright snowy mountain.
Alm Landscape Underneath the Wetterstein || Exposure Blend Olympus 18 mm, f/8, 1/50 s, ISO 200
90 minutes later, after having been standing in the same clothes for 24 h we were back home in blazing sunshine.
So was it worth it given the disappointing astro' conditions? Every trip like this I learn something. I don't always come away with the shots that I wanted. Sometimes (often) I come away with bonus images that I hadn't expected or even contemplated. So yes, I'm a better - or at least more experienced - photographer than I was this time last week and next time I'll be in a better position to get that shot.
