Trips Part 6: The Workshops days 3 and 4 and Hadrian’s Wall
We decided to head out for an early morning shoot on Day 3, with breakfast to follow before heading out for the rest of the day.
We headed up to Keswick and down to Derwentwater lake again. We walked over to a point a bit south of town that gave everyone a clear view of the mountains where, if we were lucky, the morning light would offer a lovely view. Most of my colleagues were situated along a 50-yard stretch of shoreline that offered the best view of layered hillsides and mountains, hoping for the best. I looked around and decided it (brilliant morning light) just wasn’t going to happen (it didn’t) and walked further down the shoreline until I found a lovely tree to work with.
After that, finding good images became a frustrating task that morning. I tried a couple of things along the shoreline, walked inland onto a field where I tried to photograph some trees, but all were failures. Early morning, heavy overcast skies are not conducive to lovely images. Eventually, Ann and I started making our way back towards town and we walked along the walled shoreline where the boats are secured in Keswick. There I found a nice composition to make of the stone wall where a tree root had burrowed its way through the wall, only to die and break off.
After breakfast we were back to woodland photography and waterfalls. At our first stop, we decided to bypass the large (and very raging) waterfall and work our way up a tributary creek that was much more modest in its flow. There, we were pretty much in our element and comfortable with crafting images.
A couple of our colleagues had the same ideas and it seemed like we were all leap-frogging each other, working up or down the creek at different access points.
Again, having that ability to take one’s time at a location and to work on image-making is quite the joy.
Our final stop of the day was along another shoreline with a view. Once more, the distant view was totally obscured so I focused elsewhere for image making. Along a short side-trail I found a small tree still holding onto its fall colors as background trees were just starting their change (and others were already done for the season).
I then headed back to Ann, who was making an image and I saw my own in the opposite direction.
After lunch we headed over to Blea Tarn (without Phil telling us that was where we were going). About half-way there, as we were driving along roads where our van seemed to barely fit between the rock walls, Ann said, “Dan, isn’t this the road we drove on to meet up with Simon?” I said, “I dunno, it was dark and I was focused on not hitting anything.” That, of course, opened up a big conversation about whether our rig (which everyone knew about) would even fit down the roads we were on. When we approached the final hill, I asked Phil where we were going, he replied “Blea Tarn.” I told the group, yeah, I’d driven that road in our rig. They couldn’t believe it.
Once at Blea Tarn we had to decide what to photograph, not wanting to reproduce what we’d previously done. We first tried to head over to a forested area off to the right, but were halted by bogs. Not knowing whether we’d even be allowed within the walled-off area (we couldn’t see a formal walker’s gate), we decided not to try to get up to the road and walk over to it, and simply retreated to dry land. There we made a couple of photographs, one of a group of trees on the left side of the lake.
As we headed down the trail, we came across some grasses that still held droplets on their leaves, and I decided to try and see if I could get a photograph of them, even though I for some stupid reason had left the macro lens back in the hotel room in another bag.
We eventually made it down to the lake shore and I’d remembered that I’d gone through a gate to check out an area away from the lake when we were there with Simon, but there had been workers and trucks on the hillside working on something. This time they were gone and, short of some left-over tire tracks, there was little sign that any work had been done in the area.
There was a creek off to the left, so I descended down the hill to see if there was an image to be made. There were a plethora of images in all directions, but I knew the clock was ticking and really only had time for one image before I had to head back. I made two, really one with two different framings.
By the time we made it back to the hotel, it was dark.
The next morning was another early shoot in Keswick. This time, instead of heading out to the point to the south, Ann and I headed to the shoreline west of town. It didn’t have a clear view of the mountains beyond, but I was again confident we weren’t going to get sun that morning (again, we didn’t). That doesn’t mean the pre-dawn light didn’t give us images to make.
As the sun rose, the colors became more natural and I just kept working with what was on offer.
Ann and I eventually decided to leave the shoreline and headed down a trail that skirted the town and overlooked a field. I eventually saw two nice trees (I think the two that had frustrated me the day before from the other direction), and bushwhacked my way 20 feet or so to photograph from a fence line.
And yes, this is where the sheep stayed motionless for multiple, long exposures, not trusting what I was doing.
We made our way back to the rally point and chatted a bit with Phil, our instructor, waiting for others to arrive. As we were talking, I noticed some interesting reflections in the water by the docks and broke off to explore them.
Friday was a half-day, with several folks having to catch trains back home, so we didn’t stray too far from the hotel. After breakfast, we headed up the mountain to the east of the hotel, first stopping by a famous bridge, and then a viewpoint. The sun finally gave us something to work with and even though I only had my point and shoot, you can see the quality of light you can get in this part of England. Of course it didn’t last very long.
We then headed to our last stop. We had three options heading out of the car park, go along a lake shore, head up the hill, or head down the creek. We opted to head up the hill and found plenty to photograph, despite the flat light.
It was a worked landscape with interesting trees and rock outcroppings.
And it left us wishing we’d had better conditions.
We also wished we had more time because I really wanted to explore the creek with its waterfalls and tree- and rock-lined banks. But there just wasn’t enough time, we were approaching our necessary departure time.
Back at the vehicle, while waiting for the last of the stragglers to return, I noticed a giant water pump sitting next to the parking lot. I pulled out the baby Leica to explore a bit and found a few images.
Again, I could have spent a lot longer photographing this thing.
Those were the last of the workshop images. We got back to the hotel about 2:30, our own planned departure time. Folks (a few who were spending the night) were going to head over to the area we photographed our first morning at the Borrowdale. We were tempted to join them, but we didn’t want to arrive at our campsite - about half way between Keswick and Newcastle - in the dark. It was a good choice. We made it just as the skies started darkening for the evening.
We’d selected the campground location because it was not very far from Hadrian’s Wall (I guess that’s why it’s called Hadrian’s Wall Campsite). The next morning we headed over to check out the wall, parking in an old mining site that wound up removing a part of the wall (which you can see to the left).
We made a few images there and then headed up to the wall.
The wall doesn’t seem so impressive until you learn that it was between 13 and 15 feet tall when it was being used (stone has been removed for other construction over the centuries), about 8 feet wide and is 73 miles long. Every mile or so there was a turret that could house men, and every few miles a fort with even more men.
From this location you could see that it followed the ridgeline, which sloped down on each side, making the wall easier to defend. A few miles further in the photo below is the famous Sycamore Gap where some idiots last year cut down a beautiful sycamore tree located in a gap (depression in the Ridgeline) like above. We couldn’t bear to stop by there.
And that was that. It was about an hour and a half to Newcastle and our ferry ride home. All went well on the return trip - the bed was even comfortable this time. The next morning found us in the Netherlands and a couple of hours later, we were home.