The Power of the Cube

I've not done a tech review before, but there's a first time for everything. A couple of weeks ago I found a YouTube review of a neat looking external light source cleverly called the Lume Cube. I forget who's video I saw first - like any good photographer with a mild case of GAS*, before buying I binge-watched a whole load of video reviews, but the first one I saw was probably Hudson Henry's - you can check it here if you're interested. What the reviews had to say was all very interesting, and I could immediately see the potential of this device in a number of settings, particularly as an additional light source in low-light settings for mixed-light photography, using the cube as a fixed (or even mobile) fill-in light.

*Gear Acquisition Syndrome - the tendency of (not just) photographers to acquire unnecessary gear in the often mistaken belief that it will improve your images without actually investing time or effort in your talents.

Lilly of the Valley || Olympus f5.6, 1/200, ISO 200

There are three versions of the cube, the first version was a solid 4.5 x 4.5 cm cube with a screw-cap Micro USB charge port, the second - Lume Cube Air - is a lighter version intended, as I understand it, for the drone market, and the third returned to the initial format with improved battery duration, light quality and spread as well as 'controllability'. All of them have a standard 3/8" tripod attachment thread and so can be mounted in a number of different ways.

All of them can be controlled using buttons on the device itself or using a dedicated smartphone App, allowing basic on/off controls, a light intensity bar allowing you to set the luminosity any where from 1-100%, strobe control and optical slave mode if you want to couple it with a separate flash device.

Having looked at all the reviews, particularly with an eye on battery life and light quality, I decided I'd go for version 2 and get a few of the useful-looking accessories while I was at it. In Europe the Cubes aren't all that easy to come by and not every camera shop stocks them. Amazon couldn't deliver the Portable Lighting Kit I was after so I Googled around and found it in a German online camera store and ordered one. Or thought I did. When it arrived I was dismayed to realise that I'd mistakenly ordered an original cube. Rather than send it back, I thought I'd give it a run for its money and see how I got on with it. The original Cube does actually have one advantage over the newer model; the charge point has a screw-cap rather than a rubber cover and is rated to 30 m underwater rather than the 10 m of version 2. If I want to, I can take the cube underwater as a light source for shooting whilst diving. 

What's in the Box?

Like I said, there were a couple of things in the Lighting Kit that piqued my curiosity, it has a range of attachments and filters as well as a doodah for mounting it on the camera's flash hot-shoe. Some of gear is clearly intended for portrait photographers and videographers.

The Cube

Obviously the Cube itself is the star of the show. Shot here in ambient daylight at about 5% maximum brightness. You're never going to need more light with this thing, it's an absolute monster. In a good way of course.

Box Contents

As well as the cube itself, a mini user manual and a micro USB charging cable, the Portable Lighting Kit+ comes with a filter attachment adaptor, a dome diffuser - probably my most-used filter, strong and light flat diffusion filters, two hexagonal plates, red, green, blue and yellow gels, two Lee CTO filters, a barn door, a snoot, the (dumb) hot-shoe connector and a sturdy zip case (not shown).

How to Use It

I'm not going to go into the user manual here, but I want to discuss the potential of the Cube from a landscape photographer's point of view. As well as off-camera fill-in light for flowers and other small objects, the Cube provides plenty of light for illuminating the foreground of night- and astro-photographs or for illuminating people. One of the things I'm looking forward to trying is using it in water to illuminate a wet-scape.

Lighting up the Aquilegia

There's something attractive about off-camera light. Light straight from the camera (flash) is fairly boring, resulting in an essentially equal exposure over the whole image, whilst at the same time creating harsh shadows if anything is partially obscured. Light something from the side and you'll start getting landscape photographers interested. Most landscapers look forward to the golden hours - the time just after sunrise and just before sunset due to the gentle light from the side rather than above. With the Cube, I can take this a step further, illuminating from wherever I please within reason. Lighting from below, for example, yields some lovely results on bell flowers, making it look as if they're lit up from within. A while ago I was struck by some photos of mushrooms by a British photographer who goes by the Instagramm handle @fatmanskinnycamera and was interested to see whether I could recreate the feeling he generated with a mix of artificial and natural light. I set up my test lab in the back garden. Please excuse the greenfly, I only noticed them after I'd finished processing the images! Here's my comparison of native light, on-camera flash and Lume Cube illumination, with the Cube set to approximately 20% luminosity.

Native Light || Olympus f16, 8" ISO 200

On-Camera Flash || Olympus f16, 1/60 s, ISO 200

Lume Cube Underlit || Olympus f16, 6" ISO 200

I think the results speak for themselves, the native light image is ok, but there's little separation from the background (well, I was shooting at f16), and the sky is distracting. The on-camera flash causes harsh shadows on the flowers (look at the flower on the right) and completely darkens the sky. Yes, I know it's possible to reduce the intensity of the flash to better balance the light, but I'm not particularly keen on investing the time in this skill. The Lume Cube, however, casts a gentle ethereal light and gives me the flexibility of being able to place the light source wherever you want is fantastic.

So that's how it looks close-up, what if you need more light. Here's a quick-and-dirty grab of my garden yew tree with and without the Cube, which was on the floor below the tripod.

Don't forget that there's an acute danger of under-exposing photos at dusk and at night due to the brightness of the camera screen; to ensure good exposure, I strongly recommend you rely on your camera histogram, assuming you have one. 

What I Do and Don't Like

There really is so much to like about this cute little cube:

Ease of use The constant source makes setting up photos practically idiot-proof. There's no need to muck about with flash, no trial and error. It's pretty much WYSIWYG and it's easy to move the light around and change direction and beam whilst monitoring the effect in real time through the camera. 

Light Quality Although one of the complaints against V1 was the light quality, I think this comes from portrait photographers who were concerned about light on skin. By light quality I mean that they reported it giving a slightly off-white colour cast. I certainly had no complaints illuminating flowers at dusk in the garden. 

Control The amount of light is also easily controlled in 1% increments via the dedicated Lume-X app, even if I did keep losing the connection. For shorter periods this was simply a question of clicking a button in the app.

Attachment It's easy to attach the Cube to any number of supports using the 3/8" thread, whether the hot-shoe connector or an Arca Swiss plate for tripod mounting. Mostly I use it on my old Ultra-pod II tabletop tripod using the supplied hot-shoe connector. This gives me infinite directional control. If I don't use the connector, the Ultra-pod screw tends to push off the filter-holder.

Filters The fact that the filters attach to the filter holder magnetically is brilliant, though I'm not sure I'd trust this 100% underwater. I think I'd be afraid of loosing the filter holder by catching on something.

Portability Lastly, the Cube is incredibly portable. At 100 g, and approximately 20 ml volume, no-one is going to notice it at the bottom of a rucksack or camera bag.

Lilac by Moonlight	Lilly of the Valley
Aquilegia Lit by Snoot	Dandelion Head

There are a couple of things I don't like with my version 1 cube that have apparently been overcome with version 2:

Battery The battery seems to run down very quickly, though not faster than indicated by the manufacturer. I tried a continuous test at 100% luminosity to see whether it would last the full 30 min, but the device quickly became so hot that it shut down. At 50% luminosity I only got 40 min continuous running before running the battery down - disappointing considering the blurb says it should be good for 2 h at this level.

Connection Another bugbear is that I frequently lose contact with the app and have to re-initiate the connection on the cube end.

Light Quality Lastly, the light quality feels quite harsh for what I want to do with the Cube, but the diffusers easily compensate for this. 

Bottom Line Despite these shortcomings, all-in-all I really like what I can do with the Cube, even if I wish I'd got V2 to start with. If I find myself using it a lot, I might grab myself a basic Cube V2 for underway.

Aquilegia Aglow || Olympus f16, 13", ISO 200

An Homage to the Humble Dandelion

The Dandelion: the gardener's bane and the photographer's muse. A springtime delight turning green fields yellow and then grey. Some flowers are pretty but don't photograph particularly well. Others seem more mundane at first glance, maybe because we see them everywhere, but take a closer look and you'll see a different picture, whether flower or seed heads. 

A New Sun || Olympus f16, 1/1600 s, ISO 200

They inherently possess three elements that naturally make for strong images; both flower and seed head are complex yet repetitive. Repetitive patterns catch the eye and emphasise structures and light. The flowers are a cardinal colour, a bright solid yellow that stands out from any background - although they also lend themselves to monochrome conversion. Lastly, the seeds form a translucent globe that, from close and down low, give great pictures against the sky. 

Anthers || Olympus f10, 1/2000 s, ISO 800

Stripped of Colour || Olympus f10, 1/2000 s, ISO 800

Glowing Orb || f20, 1/500 s, ISO 200

Sometimes imperfection is also eye-catching, as with the half-finished dandelion clock. 

Perfect Imperfection || Olympus f16, 1/200 s, ISO500

Complex Perfection || Olympus f20, 1/160 s, ISO 640

Detail || Olympus f20, 1/100, ISO 1600

What looks like sepia conversions are in fact the natural colours straight out of the camera.

In a Field of their Own || Olympus f8, 1/1000 s, ISO 200

Globes || Olympus f16, 1/200 s, ISO 320

A lot of these images were taken lying prone in the field. For the real close-ups (I deliberately don't use the term "macro" as technically they're not) I used a +3 diopter magnifier screwed into the front of the Zuiko F4 12-100 mm, which even without help is a great near lens with a minimal focal distance of 7.5 cm. 

Against the Sun || Olympus f16, 1/100 s, ISO 200

B&W Challenge

The Challenge

The lock-down seems to be fertile ground for photo projects and challenges, ranging from Joe Edelman’s much-publicised Stuck at Home series to Oddbjørn Austevik’s 1000 Step Challenge with many prominent proponents in between. They’re a great creative use of time, motivating us to hone our existing skills and perhaps pick up some new ones. And getting to know your gear well is always a good investment. I've spent some time with focus stacking* photos of snakeshead fritillaries that are growing in the garden and learned a lot about both the camera and the editing process.

Back in March the kids gave me Hoddinott and Bauer’s 52 Assignments in Landscape Photography for my birthday and I'd been looking forward to working through the book over the year and seeing what tips and tricks I could add to my toolbox, but a lot of the assignments require being out in, well, the landscape and that’s not so easy right now. Sure, I could shoot a panorama of the back garden, but who wants to see that?

*Focus stacking is a method of extending the depth of field to get more of the subject in focus, most often used in close-up photography and wide-angle landscape photography with close foreground. It involves taking multiple photos with various focal points from close to far and then assembling them  to one image using software (or in-camera).

Time for a Challenge || Olympus f7.1, 1/20 s, ISO 1600

I didn’t escape the challenge trend and was recently tagged on Facebook for a ‘Ten day 10-black and white photos describing daily life’ challenge, which I took up enthusiastically (thank you Silke). I’ve long felt that monochrome hasn’t really been my strong suit, but I recently watched a couple of videos on the matter online and wanted to try out some of the principles. Plus the photos had to be of everyday items, also something outside my normal photo-genre (gummybears notwithstanding - if you want to find out more check out #gummibeardiaries on Instagram - at the time of writing I was the only one using this hashtag, who knows, maybe it's taken off by the time you read this).

Daily Essentials || Olympus f8, 1/80 s, ISO 200

The trick with monochrome, so I’ve been told, is to almost fully edit your photo as normal, balancing the tones etc. and then do the monochrome conversion almost as the last step. For these still-lives (still-lifes?) I think this has worked pretty well. Depending on the subject matter I’ve tried to keep the depth of field quite low.

If you want the step-by-step on the ON1 edit, it was fairly simple. Here you go:

Develop:

• Apply camera and lens correction in develop

Filters:

• Big Softy Vignette at 50% opacity
• Tone Enhancer set on Auto, opacity 100% (normally I would do this by hand , but I tried the auto function and found it gave me the look I wanted)
• Border
• Black & White Chrome, neutral colo(u)r response

Further Options:

• Dynamic Contrast where appropriate to enhance detail
• Lens Blur to reduce depth of field
• Local edits as necessary

As you can see, I had a lot of fun with this project and I had eight of the images together within about two days without thinking about it too much. You can probably tell from the first two images that I'm a huge fan of wood grain and natural textures. I really liked the contrast here between the natural grain and the man-made objects. The last two photos took a bit longer and I had to wait for the muse to strike. I'd wanted to take a portrait of Chicco, the ginger tom that we acquired last year from a friend of a friend of a friend, but it turns out that he's camera shy, so I took this one of his sister Evi sitting in the cat tree, looking out the window. For all the complaints about noise in m4/3 sensors, these ISO 1600 shots are working out extremely well.

Evi watching the world go by || Olym-puss f8, 1/13, ISO 1600

Spontaneous or Planned?

Watching the modern photography gurus at the moment, a lot of them plan their photos down to the last detail; when the sun will hit a certain angle, precisely where to stand, checking the edges of your photo, etc. For a long time I’ve beaten myself up about this because this has not been my style; I’ve always been much more impulsive and spontaneous in my photography and studying the profis I felt that I was doing something wrong or that my photography was somehow second class.

Ascending || Olympus f13, 1/25 s, ISO 1600

I took this next photo of my glasses on a tiled surface as part of the B&W challenge. Having slept on it, I felt that I had overshot the mark with the narrow depth of field, but I was otherwise quite happy with the shot, the composition and light really work for me. The original was one of a set of two or three hand-held shots where I played about with the focal point and height of the camera.

Reading Glasses Reflecting || Olympus f5.6, 1/50 s, ISO 1600

Having slept on the image, I thought there was something I could do to improve it. When processing I realised that I’d got a wedge of the white wall below the tiles and there were a couple of other ‘border’ issues. I also wanted to broaden the depth of field and try to catch an area of focus in the magnifying part of the lens of the glasses.

So I set up my tripod, aligned the camera carefully, cleared the clutter from the background, twisted the glasses to the optimal position, focused manually on the bridge of the glasses, performed an aperture run from f4 to f22, realised that I was on auto ISO and it was running at 1600, set the ISO to the native 200 of the camera, repeated the aperture run, opened the camera, realised that I was missing the main SD card from the camera and that I was shooting on secondary, searched the living room for the missing card, realised I’d left it in my T-shirt pocket that was in the washing basket, gone upstairs to check the washing basket to realise that my lovely wife had been ultra-efficient and that the washing was in the machine already, spotted the card in the front of the washing machine, put the secondary in the computer, checked the images...
...and was disappointed that none of the images had the same feeling of the original.

Aperture series with the Zuiko f4 12-100 at about 10 cm:

f4		f5
f6.3		f8
f10		f13
f16		f20

Lessons Learned

I think that some of this has to do with the emotion that I realise that I’ve been trying to convey with my photos - another lesson that I’ve been trying to build into my photography. That emotion is something spontaneous, revelling in the magic of the moment and not something that I can express when I plan a shot to death. So, two lessons for the price of one; I now know which aperture to use out of the starting block for close-ups and, perhaps even more valuable, I’ve learned that I don’t need to beat myself up about being a spontaneous photographer and not a planned photographer - that’s just my style.

Dandelion Closeup || Olympus f10, 1/2000 s, ISO 800

So thanks for laying down the gauntlet Silke. What about the rest of you? What tricks have you picked up during the lock-down.

Oh, and by the way, the SD card survived. Washed in de-ionised water and then dried it for 3 h in rice.

Ende (see what I did there?) || Olympus f4, 1/50 s, ISO 1600

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