Location Scouting for Astrophotography

A couple of weeks ago, one of my photography pals texted me asking me if I wanted to join him on a Milky Way hunt some time since his summer plans had been scratched due to Corona (Matthias, you really need to set up a website so I can link to your photos!). He mentioned a couple of possible locations, which got me thinking; where would _I_ shoot the Milky Way from. I came up with an idea (that I won't share here yet, I haven't seen any other astro shots from here and I'd like to have a crack at it before someone else gets in first, so if you recognise any of the spots in this post, plesase keep them to yourself for now - hopefully in a month or so we'll be able to pull this off). I knew that I wanted to include some 'civilisation glow' in the shot if possible - the night glow from a human habitation and I opened up Google Earth to look for a possible mountainside that would give me the angle that I wanted.

Watching the Sun Go Down || Olympus f/16, 1/60, ISO 1250

It's not as easy as I'd thought to find a deforested slope facing the right direction in the lower alps. Despite my local knowledge, it took quite a bit of playing around before I found a peak that would work, and even then it was only on paper. At the end of May I headed down there for an evening to catch the sunset and the blue hour to see whether the angles matched up. Even a couple of days beforehand I wasn't too sure about the trip, no-one wanted to join me and I was a little wary of being on my own in the mountains at night - even in familiar territory there are plenty of things that can go wrong. And the forecast wasn't playing ball. Until Friday morning that is. All of a sudden the evening forecast was opening up - a green light.

It's a Sign! || Olympus f/8, 1/80 s, ISO 200

With sunset projected to be 21.05, I set off from home just after 18.00 to allow myself enough time to get down there, get up onto the ridge and find a couple of spots whilst the light was still good. Climbing up from the car park the light was gorgeous. A few high clouds might have been nice to complete the scene, but I wasn't going to complain. The few people still on the hills but coming down gave me some strange looks and I had a quick chat with one bloke who was interested to know what I was doing going up at that time of day before he got pulled to heal by his wife. And then I was on the ridge.

At the Ridge || Olympus f/8, 1/500 s, ISO 200

The views were beautiful, clear air with some mountain cloud hanging around the peaks. It was all I had hoped for from my virtual tour planning and more. There is some lovely rock around, and the peaks still have significant patches of snow on them despite the non-winter of 2019/20. From the ridge its a broad path leading to one of the peaks that had looked promising and so after taking a couple of smartphone shots I headed out, warm setting sun on my left, valley on my right. The light was catching the fir trees along the ridge, especially the skeletal branches of dead trees that had long since lost their bark to the elements. The orange light picked out the highlights nicely.

Catching the Last Rays || Olympus f/8, 1/80 s, ISO 250

Just before the potential spot that I'd looked out there's a broad shoulder that looked promising, the spot itself had a lot more trees and was a lot narrower than it had looked on the computer, pretty much ruling it out. By this time, the sky was beginning to turn orange in the west and I was desperate to find an open piece of hillside facing westwards. East wasn't a problem, I could get to a treeless spot there any time, but the other side was light forest. In the end I had to settle for a gap between the trees. I say settle, I think the silhouettes work quite nicely, but it wasn't the picture I had first envisioned. Dropping the aperture to f/16 helped with the sunburst.

And Down She Goes || Olympus f/16, 1/100 s, ISO 200

In the immediate aftermath of the sunset I headed back along the ridge to where I had first hit it to wait for the first stars. The path back offered a couple of nice shots too, and I particularly like this one with the roots on the path. This is a composite of two exposures, one for the foreground and one for the background. After mixed experience with ON1 Photo Raw's HDR assembling, I've gone over to using layers to assemble these shots, it gives me a deal more flexibility when I can control precisely which elements of the photo I use from each exposure. I'll write a separate blog entry on this some time.

The Path Goes On || Olympus f/6.3, 1/50 s, ISO 1600

Up until this point I'd had my go-to lens on the camera, the Zuiko f4 12-100 mm, getting back to the top of the ridge it was time to get the wide-angle zoom out, the Leica f2.8 8-18 mm. The wider aperture and wider field of view make this a great astro-landscape lens, although I wouldn't complain if there was a convenient lens with an even wider aperture for night shots. The optical quality is second to none though, provided I can focus it properly. During the daytime this isn't an issue, I just leave it on autofocus normally, but focusing on pin-pricks of light at night to get the infinity focus right is tricky, even with glasses.

Golden to Blue || Olympus f/4, 1/60 s, ISO 500

I set up the tripod with my Benro Geared Head to allow me good control over the level and direction and started shooting the blue hour. When hiking, I rarely wear more than t-shirt and shorts, but even setting out from the car I was wearing long sleeves and trousers. Despite my soft-shell jacket it was beginning to get quite cool in the late evening breeze. Wooly hat and gloves time, though putting the gloves on and off was a pain. I was glad of the tripod net that I'd bought for the occasion to store bits of camera in the low light, it made keeping kit under control in the dark a lot easier. 

Waiting for the Stars || Olympus f/2.8, 1/6 s, ISO 200

And so I sat and waited for the first stars to appear, the half-moon high in the sky away to my right, the dew beginning to fall. Taking a shot every five minutes or so, exposure bracketing just to be on the safe side. I was watching the clock too, I didn't want to be out too late on my own - there was still a trek down to the car in the dark. Even with the half-moon and my head-torch, stumbling around in the dark in the mountains shouldn't be taken lightly. And then there was the 90 min drive home.

Gibbous Moon over the Allgäu || Olympus f/3.3, 10 sec, ISO 200

The descent proved easier than I had feared and I was soon back on the tarmac. Definitely worth the evening's trek. Oh, and remember the SD card that went through the washing machine? It seems to have finally given up the ghost. Fortunately after I transferred the photos to the PC and not before. Sometimes you've gotta have a bit of luck!

End of the Day || Olympus f/4, 0.8 s, ISO 800

Dolomites Revisited Part II

Day 2: Two Lakes and Three Pinnacles

View West from the Paternsattel || Olympus, f9, 1/125 s, ISO 200

Lago Misurina & Lago d'Antorno

LAGO MISURINA & LAGO D'ANTORNO - QUICK SUMMARY

Best Conditions	First thing in the morning for still waters
Challenges	Lago d'Antorno can get a bit weedy late in the year disturbing the surface of the water
Parking	€2 at either lake
Where to Stop	Any of the cafes at the north end of Misurina, Rifugio across the road at d'Antorno
Links	Lago Misurina, Lago d'Antorno

The Tre Cime must rank in the top three most recognisable mountains. Obviously you've got the Matterhorn, and then… … what? Mount Fitzroy perhaps, Mount Fuji? Okay, so it's in the top five. Whichever it is, the three limestone peaks pointing up like fingers are unmistakable. 

Any approach to the Tre Cime from the south, i.e. From the Auronzohütte,will take you past two stunning lakes that are worth the detour. I know, I know, the peaks are waiting, but they can wait a few minutes longer, they're not going anywhere. Alternatively, set off extra early to plan a 30 min break at at least one of them. 

The first lake is Lago Misurina. I've not yet shot here myself, but the classic photo is from the north along the lake looking towards the Opera Diocesana San Bernado with the lake as foreground and the mountains as a backdrop. This photo works almost all the year round and especially in the blue hour or even at night if the stars are out.

Lago d'Antorno, THAT Bridge and Tre Cime || Olympus f8, 1/60 s, ISO 250

The second is the smaller Lago d'Antorno, one of my favourite finds in the Dolomites. OK, in the meantime everyone who knows the region around Cortina knows about Lago d'Antorno, but when I first found the lake it was in the days before Instagram and I'd never seen it in any of the guidebooks.  We were driving to Tre Cime - probably the very first time back in, oh, I don't know, 2010. The road goes directly by the lake and is difficult to miss. Because of the location, surrounded by mountains, you can shoot at almost any time of day (barring midday in the summer of course), though like any open water, the surface is usually calmest in the early morning. The near absence of buildings (just the refuge) makes unspoilt photography very easy, though the proximity of the road means that you need to be prepared to clone out a car or two [hint; take two or three identical shots, optimally with a tripod - use these to create layers in your editor of choice and 'rub out' any unsightly cars - this works for people and other extraneous objects as well]. There's a path all the way round the lake, but the classic shot is practically from the roadside - the little wooden bridge with the first of the Tre Cime in the background (yes, that's the Tre Cime already, it's just not quite so recognisable from this angle). 

Both lakes work in the evening as well, so if you really are pinched for time on the way up, try and plan them in on the way down at least.

Tre Cime

Tre Cime Classic  || Olympus f9, 1/200 s, ISO 200

TRE CIME - QUICK SUMMARY

Best Conditions	Only really accessible from spring to autumn, road closed in winter
Challenges	Catching sun on the more picturesque north side only possible at sunset near the summer solstice, getting to the Paternsattel requires mountain shoes and a modicum of physical fitness
Parking	€30 at the Auronzo Hütte (toll road)
Where to Stop	Dreizinnenhütte - half way round
Links	Tre Cime

Once you've finished with the lakes, carry on up the road to the toll road. Despite the exorbitant € 30 to use the road (2019), the price is worth it as it saves you a 500 m climb over a long 5 km and allows you to park for free at the Auronzo Hütte. Things now get interesting linguistically because we're at the border between Italian- and German-speaking Dolomites, giving us bizarre combinations such as the Auronzo (I) Hütte (D). The classic route starting from here is to head east along the south side of the Tre Cime towards the Paternsattel. As you head out, keep your eyes open on the long south-east running valley down towards Auronzo. Often the mist hangs in the valley and there can also be some good contre jour sunrise shots here.

From the Patternsattel looking East || Olympus f8, 1/125 s, ISO 200

Unfortunately, the path runs too close to the three peaks to be able to get a decent photo of them. One day I'll have to try the route up to Monte Campadelle to the south in order to see whether there's a better view of the south side of the peaks from there. Even if you head a long way out along the outcrop from Rifugio Lavaredo, you can't get far enough for a decent view of the peaks, though there are a couple of lakes here that allow you to get some nice reflections of the Cima Piccola (the Laghi di Laverdo).

From the Paternsattel || Olympus f9, 1/125 s, ISO 200

At the Paternsattel there's a classic view along the north faces of the peaks as well as a good view over to the Dreizinnenhütte. The north face of the peaks is by far the most photographed side, the trouble is, being north-facing, it's almost impossible to shoot them in the sun. A few weeks either side of the summer solstice it's possible to catch them in the dying light at sunset, otherwise you'll just have to be a bit creatve and definitely avoid shooting in bright midday sun. Sometimes the best you can hope for is some atmospheric mist!

Rautkofel || Olympus f9, 1/100 s, ISO 200

From the saddle there are two paths to the Dreizinnenhütte, an upper one for mountaineers and a lower one for the tourists. If you've got the footwear and the head for heights (and the weather's good), I'd stick to the upper path, but do watch out for rock-falls, both from above and that you don't cause one onto the path below.

On the way to the Dreizinnenhütte || Olympus f9, 1/500 s, ISO 200

We've always taken the high road and when we were there in October we weren't disappointed. The weather was a bit, well, meh, but about half way across, the sun suddenly started poking through the clouds, bringing the otherwise dull mountains to life. The red flanks of the Rautkofel really stuck out, just begging to be shot as the spotlights strafed the valley.

A "B" Shot at Best || Olympus f9, 1/200 s, ISO 200

Just before you get to the Dreizinnenhütte, watch out for a path off to the left heading towards a WW I bunker where there are outlooks both over the Tre Cime and the Rautkofel that form a nice frame. A judiciously used fill-in flash will help you get the exposure of the framing rock right, and if you have a tripod with you, you might want to practice your focus stacking skills. The only thing I don't like about this photo is that the icicle is soft, otherwise it might have been quite a cool image.

A Bit Better - Looking West || Olympus f9, 1/250 s, ISO 200

After stocking up at the hut, the path runs along the high stoney plateau to the Langalm and the Forcella del Col de Medo. There's not a great deal of photographic interest on the route back apart from a few smaller ponds near the Langalm.

Day 3: Five Towers - Cinque Torri

Cinque Torri Classico || Olympus f7.1, 1/400 s, ISO 200

CINQUE TORRI - QUICK SUMMARY

Best Conditions	Winter for the icicles, early summer for snow-melt
Challenges	Tripod inadvisable due to narrow walkways / avoid midday sun in summer / check opening times (link below)
Parking	Free at Rifugio Cinque Torri
Where to Stop	Rifugio Cinque Torri, Rifugio Nuvolau, Rifugio Scoiattoli, Rifugio Averau
Links	Cinque Torri

From the Fanes Valley || Olympus f11, 2.5 s, ISO 200

At certain times of the year (and certain times of day), it is possible to drive all the way up to the Rifugio Cinque Torri from the SR48. Otherwise you'll either have to take the Cinque Torri cable car or hike up the 400 m from the valley to Rifugio Scoiattoli (2255 m). There are some great perspectives on the Cinque Torri from near the Rifugio Scoiattoli, especially using the paths as leading lines. Alternatively, you can walk up to the Rifugio Nuvolau (2574 m) via the Forcella Nuvolau (2400 m) for a great gallery view over the Cinque Torri, dwarfed by the 3225 m Tofana in the background. There is a round tour here off the far end of the Nuvolau that brings you back through stony terrain to the Cinque Torri, though I wouldn't recommend it to anyone without climbing gear and the route back isn't very well marked. The hills here are again dotted with larches which turn an attractive yellow in late October (depending on the season). Exceptionally, Rifugio Averau at the Forcella Nuvolau is open until late October, providing a useful stopping point.

Below the Rifugio Cinque Torri || Olympus f6.3, 1/200 s, ISO 200

When we were here in October, we were able to drive up and park pretty much at the Rifugio 5 Torri and were greeted with a wonderful view up to the towers. Pure blue skies aren't necessarily the thing that a photographer looks for, but the day started this way and the orange rock of the Torre Grande looked magnificent in the morning sun with the light behind us. It was one of those occasions where it would actually have been better to leave the polariser behind. The path up from the rifugio takes you almost within touching distance of the main tower and then on to the ridge leading to the top of the cable car, but by the time we'd got there, a mere 30 min or so after leaving the car, the weather was looking very different. The wind had got up and there were leaden-looking clouds headed towards us on the western horizon.

Our initial plan had been to explore the mini Klettersteig/via ferrata on the impressive-looking Averau , but as we climbed towards the Rifugio Averau on the saddle we were seriously doubting whether this was possible, let alone sensible:We experienced at least two snow flurries on the way up to the hut and so instead of heading straight up the mountain it was coffee and Linzertorte in the comfort of the rifugio. Cold hands and an untried Klettersteig aren't the best combination. About half an hour later, coffee and cake safely inside, things were looking up and so we headed up the small track leading to the bottom of the climb.

Sharon in the Averau Chimney || Olympus f7.1, 1/60 s, ISO 1600

We took refuge in the lee of the mountain to gear up just as a young couple started the climb ahead of us. We could hear them but not see them above us as they attempted to negotiate the Einstieg, the start of the climb. Suspiciously their voices were not getting any quieter and there seemed to be a lot of discussion going on. As we headed out to clip in to the starting wire, we found them coming the other way - the first length of cable had been too much for them. A little daunted, particularly as it was my first serious climb since my knee operation, we pressed on. The first little section really is a little challenging, but after that there's a delightful chimney with a ladder section, followed by a short section over smooth rock - one of those short sections that you can bullshit your way up using muscle reserves, but at the same time one that you didn't want to go on for too long, because you know that those reserves are limited. Fortunately this wasn't the case and after the exposed rock the route turned into a regular dolomite climb with good grips and - more importantly - footholds. The Klettersteig itself is relatively short but then turns into a longer, pathless scramble up though loose stone to the summit. A relatively thankless ascent apart from one point where there's a cleft in the rock giving you a marvellous view down over the route up to the Nuvolau. Despite waiting for a few minutes for a gap in the cloud to light up the path there was nothing doing here apart from taking the obligatory documentary shot. It would be worth coming up again some time with a temperature inversion, but I definitely wouldn't bring a group up here.

Moody Tofana || Olympus f7.1, 1/1000, ISO 200

The views from the top of the 2,649 m Averau are pretty decent, looking out towards the Marmolada to the west and the much nearer Tofana to the north. The wind (as well as a lack of snacks) proscribed  a longer break on the top and so after a few minutes we went back down. The descent is pretty much like the ascent and so not worth further reporting, unlike the splendid lunch at the rifugio with wonderful views over the southern approach to the infamous Passo Giau.

Croda da Lago from Nuvolau || Olympus f8, 1/320 s, ISO 200

After lunch we took the narrow ridge path to Nuvolau, all the while waiting for the best light on the Cinque Torri, which I've documented before here together with some thoughts on photo editing. This remains my favourite photo of 2019 and I've had it printed on aluminium dibond, initially for a photo exhibition at work, which unfortunately was cancelled due to Covid 19.

The Same Again with Larch || Olympus f7.1, 1/250 s, ISO 200

The views from the top of the Nuvolau are also unrivalled, particularly over the Lagazuoi and Croda da Lago. Again, there's a short Klettersteig off the end of the Nuvolau that brings you back to the Cinque Torri, but I wouldn't recommend it without a harness unless you're very sure-footed.

Croda da Lago  || Olympus f8, 1/80 s, ISO 200

Other points of interest in the vicinity: Rifugio Lagazuoi (also reachable with the cable car, fantastic views of Croda da Lago), Passo di Giau (no explanation needed).

Day4: Lago di Braies / Pragser Wildsee

The Iconic Lago di Braies Rowing Boats || Olympus f8, 1/200 s, ISO 1600

LAGO DI BRAIES - QUICK SUMMARY

Best Conditions	Open all year, no boats in winter. Water stillest in the early morning
Challenges	Too many Instagramers and Influencers later in the day
Parking	€5-6 at the lake
Where to Stop
Links	Lago di Braies

A couple of years ago (probably when I started on Instagram actually), my attention was caught by a series of photos of a lake surrounded by mountains with a picturesque boathouse and iconic wooden rowing boats. As the lake was only a little way off our route home we decided to see what all the fuss was about.

Lago di Braies Reflections || Olympus f8, 1/125 s, ISO 400

It was still frosty when we reached the car park for the lake and the sun was still low below the mountains on the east bank, making good photographs of the boathouse almost impossible. We walked all the way around the lake, which took a good 90 min including photos and waiting for the sun to finally kiss the western side of the lake shore. By the time we got back to the chapel, the Insta' generation was out in force, posing on the banks and in the row-boats. It was time to head home.

di Braies Sycamore || Olympus f8, 1/160 s, ISO 250

Dolomites Revisited Part I

There's something very special about the Dolomites to me (yeah, I get it, I'm hardly alone in my opinion, but give me a chance to explain myself). Hardly anyone will dispute that this exquisite mountain range is extremely photogenic for a number of reasons, but it's more than that. We've been coming here on and off for over 17 years - I know exactly when we first came because our kids celebrated their first birthday in Seis am Schlern (Alpe di Siusi if you're an italophone). Our choice of venue was influenced in part by photos of Alpenglühen on the Rosengarten that I'd seen in the German alpine press.

Forcella Staunies - the Since Decommissioned Cable Car and Refuge || Panasonic FZ1000

But it's more than just 17 years of history. I've been pondering for a while what is so special about the region to me. We've travelled all over the Alps over the years, from the Mont Blanc massive in the west to the Säntis in north east Switzerland, from the German Allgäu around Oberstdorf to the high mountains of Austria and there's not a corner that doesn't have it's own special character and appeal. So why the Dolomites?

The Inaccessible-Looking Paternkofel || Panasonic FZ1000

Apart from the general picturesqueness (is that a word?) and many fond memories - including several hiding in tents waiting for the rain to stop, I think it's the apparent inaccessibility of the peaks that turn out to be achievable after all. Case in point is the Paternkofel pictured above; the picture is of Sharon enjoying a late lunch at the Dreizinnenhütte just after having climbed this mountain. In a way it's an allegory about life in general to me. The problems we face sometimes appear insurmountable, but many times, if we follow the trail and keep putting one foot in front of the other, we'll get where we want to go. I'm sure others could express it more eloquently, but I think this sums it up.

Field Gentians || Panasonic FZ1000

A Tale of Two Tours

Two tours spring to mind that epitomise this apparent inaccessibility, both of which we undertook whilst camping in Cortina in 2015, two tours which almost ended my mountaineering days for good as I abraded my way through the cartilage behind my kneecaps. The first one is presently no longer possible without an overnight bivouac in tricky territory - the Ivano Dibona via ferrata above Cortina. The ridge looks impossible from the valley and remains impressive close up with its ladders and bridges. Despite having set off with the first cable cars from Passo Tre Croci, we missed the last gondola down and ended up descending the whole 1700 m (5,500 ') by foot.

One of the Bridges on Ivano Dibona  || Panasonic FZ1000

View from the Ridge: A Dolomite Panorama  || Panasonic FZ1000

The second tour a couple of days later took us up the impervious-looking Paternkofel right next to the Tre Cime. We'd left far too late, waited for ages at the toll station just after Lago d'Antorno and got stuck behind coach loads of tourists who had absolutely no place on the trails we were using! Just before the Dreizinnenhütte, a path branches off to the right up along the ridge. The ferrata starts in WWI tunnels and turns into a grand scramble up a cleft before climbing up the back of the peak. Unfortunately we weren't the only people who wanted to go up that day, but sometimes these things have to be done.

Hardly Alone on the Paternkofel  || Panasonic FZ1000

Bringing it Forward

Fast forward to autumn 2019 and for the first time in 18 years Sharon and I can plan our vacations without regard to the kids and so we took a mini break in Cortina over the long German reunification weekend at the beginning of October. We knew that we'd be arriving on an improving forecast and so it didn't bother us too much that the weather was less than perfect driving up over the Brenner pass. What we hadn't appreciated was that the rain in the valleys had been a smattering of snow on the high peaks all around us and that consequently the rock walls surrounding Cortina would be garnished with a layer of snow.

Out the Front Door || Olympus f7.1, 1/100 s, ISO 400

Once we had settled into our cosy little Air B&B it was time to unpack the cameras and enjoy the late afternoon light hitting the Sorapiss massive. We'd come fully armed for three and a half days of photography in the surrounding mountains. We've come to photography from the perspective of mountaineers rather than the other way around and I think that this will always be the case for us.

Our first little trip on the hillside behind the farm we were staying on was very muddy, taking us to the top of a little cable car. The view included basically the whole of the Cortina surroundings; Monte Cristallo, Sorapiss, Croda di Lago and Tofana - essentially the Who's Who of the great and good in the Dolomites.

Punta Nera || Olympus f8, 1/200 s, ISO 200

Just walking round the little hamlet of Chiamulera gave us a buzz for the upcoming three days. We'd not been long back from a photographically frustrating week on The Gower; despite having mostly decent weather I'd found getting images that I felt satisfied with extremely frustrating. Here in the Dolomites not only was I practically on home turf, the weather looked set to be interesting (as opposed to good - the hiker and the photographer have quite different ideas regarding what constitutes 'good' weather). The game was afoot!

Day 1: One Lake - Lago Federa

There are some cracking shots of Lake Federa in the autumn, looking from the western shore of this small mountain tarn eastwards towards Sorapiss. The small ridge between the lake and the Cortina valley is covered in fir and larch and in October the larch turn from their customary green to a glorious yellow.

Forest Mushrooms || Olympus f7.1, 1/8 s, ISO 1600

Walking up through the woods from below Pocol on the SR48 we kept our eyes out for mushrooms - always worth watching for at this time of year when walking in the forest. The area guide that we used for the hike suggested taking a detour to a local outcrop, Becco d'Ajal. What looks like a completely inaccessible pillar from below turns out to be an easily climbed path once you get up there. The top of the pillar isn't big but houses the ruins of a WWI lookout post. The panoramic views from the top are incredible and I could imagine camping out there in the summer to capture some great astro images.

Ruin Atop Becco d'Ajal Becco d'Ajal from Above

As we climbed through the forest the green larches were getting paler and paler and we were hoping for some strong yellows at the 2,000 m high lake. Unfortunately this was not to be; despite the recent snowfalls we were about two weeks too early. Fortunately, the hut was still open. Paradoxically, compared to the northern alps, the refuges and cable cars in the Dolomites seem to close quite early - towards the end of September. The Rifugio Croda di Lago was still serving cheesy polenta on the sun terrace though. The hut remains open throughout October and this would be a great place to spend the night, catching the late evening and early morning sun. I've seen some great sunrise images from Andy Mumford looking along the lake to the south towards the Becco di Mezzodi.

Lago Federa - Only a Touch of Yellow || Olympus f8, 1/50 s, ISO 200

After lunch we explored the western slopes above the lake trying to get the best angle on the lake and the Sorapiss. Scrambling up about 50 m above the lake seemed to give a good perspective, but if you want a reflection you need to be right down on the water. Tofana and Cinque Torri || Olympus f8, 1/320 s, ISO200 The descent had us facing the Tofana and the Cinque Torri all the way through the forest. And it's a long way, especially on dodgy knees. Croda da Lago at Dawn from the East || Olympus f8, 1/80 s, ISO 200 LAGO FEDERA: QUICK SUMMARY Best Conditions All year round, but particularly autumn for the larches Challenges The lake is at least a 2 h trek from the road in mountainous territory Parking Various points along the SR48 Einkehr Rifugio Croda da Lago Links Rifugio (Italian)

Ten Below Zero

At about the same time as we came to Bavaria, two of our friends moved to southern Norway. Over the years we've kept in touch and every few years visited each other. With the children out of the nest, we decided to use the opportunity to head north this winter for a week's cross country skiing with them up at their cabin in the hills above Lillehammer. The temperature maximum for the whole week was - 9°C, a fleeting moment on Tuesday lunchtime if memory serves, and with a perceived wind chill of a further -10°C, so it didn't really count anyway. 

The Hills at Fagerhoy || F8, 1/640 s, ISO 200

Shooting in snow and in minus temperatures is challenging. Because of the inherent brightness of the conditions we need to shoot even further to the right than normal to avoid muddying things and without losing any details to the highlights. Unless I'm deliberately shooting high key, where it doesn't matter if parts of the photo are washed out, I like to be able to see at least a breath of detail in even the brightest parts of a photo, otherwise it disturbs me as much as a wonky horizon. So, shoot as far to the right as possible. 

The next problem is the cold, whether out during the day or during the two astro sessions at night. Either the battery didn't like it or the lens frosted over. When I'm hiking or cross country skiing I like to have the camera attached to my rucksack strap with a Peak Design capture plate; I'm more a runner and gunner rather than a tripod shooter. At -15°C the battery only lasts so long strapped to the shoulder and the padded holster tends to interfere either with the arms if attached to the hip or certain parts of the male anatomy if it's further round to the front. On the coldest days there was no other option if I wanted to take photos though. 

Blue Shining Through || F7.1, 1/320 s, ISO 200

The challenge the first few days was more a question of abundance of light and lack of familiarity with the landscape. Bright blue skies on snow make very high contrast images, turning almost everything else in the frame black, whether trees or people. And although we'd been to this location once before, it had been at the end of summer rather than the middle of winter. There was no reverting to my standard approach of focusing on the foreground or foliage - there simply wasn't any, and the landscape is significantly different to my normal alpine stamping grounds, the skies are much more wide open than I'm used to. 

Intimate details

Whilst trying to get the lie of the land, my eye was caught by some easier intimate shots, my safety fallback. I know some photographers struggle to see these mini landscapes, but my eye seems to be tuned to these more compact pictures somehow. In the snowy landscape it was the folds in the hills where streams run in summer, the collections of bushes on a hillside or an isolated farmstead, abandoned for the winter. The subtle shots. 

The Folds || F6.3, 1/1000 s, ISO 200

Sometimes you don't have to look for the compositions, they veritably jump out at you such as here with the frost covered birch trees. There are essentially two types of trees on the hillsides around Skeikampen, either the dark firs or the stunted coppery birch, both of which simply appear to be black against the blinding white snow. The last two nights in the cabin there was enough mist at night that it formed hoarfrost on the wind-stunted birch, adding a third shade to the otherwise stark black/white contrast. This alone was enough to grab all of our interests, the grey tones adding a significant point of interest to the scene. 

The Folds || F6.3, 1/1000 s, ISO 200

Fjell Farmsted || F8, 1/400 s, ISO 200

Norwegian hyttekultur 

The Norwegians love their mountain cabins, their home from homes in the wilds (and less than wilds). In fact it's not unknown for them to invest more in their weekend houses than their town dwellings; a small flat in Oslo and a comfortable cabin in the hills. My research tells me that in 2008, every second Norwegian had access to a second home of some kind. The hills around Skeikampen are littered with these cabins in a range of sizes and styles, anything from the simple wooden structures to low-lying dwellings made from the local stone, sometimes with grass roofs. In fact some of them blend in so well that you don't appreciate how many there are dotted around the countryside until dusk, when they all light up. 

The Folds || F4, 1/3 s, ISO 1600

Layers

Morning mist on the last morning gave us the double bonus of a touch of hoar frost together with some sweet layers. The time windows were quite narrow though, even with temperatures below - 10°C, as soon as the mist lifted the late February sun warmed the branches of the trees and the frost quickly disappeared. The transformation from magical to mundane was very stark. 

Layers in the Forest || F8, 1/1250 s, ISO 200

Frosty Forest || F8, 1/1000 s, ISO 200

Astro 

There were two new bits of gear that I took with me that I was itching to try out; my Benro Geared Head and a new Haida Clear Night astro filter. Added to that I had some ideas about how to shoot some star trails using the Olympus Live Composite mode; essentially this in-camera setting allows you to take a single starting exposure and then press the shutter a second time and the camera starts a series of shots that only record additional light - it's useful for lightning storms for example, allowing you essentially to take a long exposure without danger of overexposing the base image. Other cameras require you to take a series of images and then stack them additively in post. Live Comp allows you to do it in a single image. The disadvantage is that a single complication can ruin the whole 30 min shot (a car driving past, for example, or somebody knocking the tripod by accident), the advantage that you can do the whole thing in one take without stacking. 

After a couple of test images taking multiple 30" exposures over about 5 min I tried a first 30 min image on the first night out. A couple of nights later I'd scouted out a much better location pointing north towards the pole star overlooking the local village. I deliberately placed the pole star* off centre as I felt that having it dead centre would have been boring. The final shot is a composite of three images; one for the sky, one for the brightly lit village and one for the snowy forest. Assembling and masking the layers in ON1 was tricky, particularly the border between the night sky and the fir trees, but I'm quite happy with the end result. 

Pole Star over Skeikampen || F2.8, 40 min, ISO 1600, 30 s ISO 200 and 30 s ISO 6400

*The pole (north) star can be found by drawing an imaginary line connecting the two stars at the back of The Plough (Big Dipper, The Wagon or Ursa Major) and following it about 5 repeats upwards until you get to the next bright star.

One thing that I was quite eager to see while we were so far north (for us at least) was the northern lights and I loaded the Aurora app on my phone before we left. I rather naively thought that we'd be seeing them every other night and so was quite disappointed when the KP forecast was only 2/8, rising to a maximum of 4/8 in the middle of the week. Imagine my surprise (and excitement) then when looking at my first test shot looking north to see a green fringe on the horizon! There was absolutely nothing visible to the naked eye, but a 25" exposure revealed a clear trace of the northern lights. 

The winter Milky Way isn't all that much to look at, but here's my final take on Cygnus and the Northern Lights. Single shot edited in ON1 Photo RAW 2020.

Northern Lights at Skeikampen || F2.8, 60 s, ISO ISO 6400

Regarding the new gear, the Benro certainly makes precise alignments a whole lot easier, making focusing much simpler too, using the camera focus zoom to centre in on a bright star. Whether or not the star filter brings a lot to the table remains to be seen. There isn't a whole lot of light pollution in central Norway and I didn't have the presence of mind to do any with/without comparisons, so they're all 'with'. 

One error that I'm consistently making with my astro shots is foreground exposure. Because it's dark, the images on the back screen of the camera appear comparatively bright, but take the image indoors and it's a very different picture. 

Panoramas

I have a love-hate relationship with panoramas. It's something that I'd love to be able to do well, but feel that it's a discipline that I haven't yet mastered. I'm comfortable with the 16:9 format, but anything longer than that is challenging. I don't know whether it's simply a question of size - that I can't envisage how the picture would look printed big, or whether it's something more fundamental. Whatever it is, it's going to require significant work to consistently arrive at images I'm happy with (with the exception of this one). Be sure to let me know if you have a suggestion concerning how to improve my panoramic game. 

Over the Fjells || F8, 1/1000 s, ISO 200

So, those are my 10 'below zero' shots. What adventures have you got coming up, and what preparations are you making for the photography?