The Roaches & Lud’s Church, Peak District, Autumn
We’re in the Peak District in the fortnight!
We’re in the Peak District for a fortnight!
The last time we explored the Peak District was way back in May 2015. Even then, it was only for a long weekend.
After a gentle Saturday spent enjoying the sights and sounds of Buxton, we embarked on a more strenuous Sunday; a 10km hike along the Roaches to the summit, then down into Back Forest to explore the chasm of Lud’s Church.
20,000+ steps, 1,184 ft of ascent and 1,178 ft of descent. My feet are paying the price.
Totally worth it though.
All photos shot on my Sony α7ii using my Sony FE 28–70mm f3.5–5.6 OSS zoom and Rokinon 14mm f2.8 ED AS IF UMC prime lenses. RAWs developed in Capture One for iPad, finalised in Lightroom for iPad.
The Roaches & Lud's Church, Peak District, Autumn by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
The steepest and most sheer of the Roaches’ crags are at the southeastern end. In the distance, the pyramidal shape of Hen Cloud (410 m/1,315 ft) can be seen, an outlier of the Roaches separated by a col.
The Roaches are especially popular at the weekends. It’s easy to see why. Apart from hikers and freerunners, these crags attract climbers and boulderers seeking challenging projects to tackle.
To get on the trail above the Roaches, we followed the smaller trail below them and through this beautiful autumnal woodland, once the site of an old quarry.
It’s a long way down. Although the day was hazy, and unreasonably warm for an October day (20ºC), the views from the Roaches are extensive.
Looking northeast towards the Five Clouds, with a sheer drop down to the valley in front of me. Beautiful autumnal colours are just starting to emerge.
The name of this area, the Roaches, comes from the French les roches, meaning “the rocks”. These crags are made of a coarse sandstone called gritstone, deposited millions of years ago as part of an ancient river delta. Over time the surrounding landscape eroded away, leaving these isolated crags standing tall.
From the summit, 505 m above sea level, the 360º views are extensive. Beyond these crags you can make out the smaller ridge above Back Forest.
Passing through the crags on our way down to Back Forest, I spot a young couple staging a precarious “cliffhanger” for a photo.
These two windswept crags provided a wonderful frame of the distant hill towards Congleton.
The last of these overhanging crags must provide a wonderful challenge for boulders and climbers.
Our route involves a sharp drop down to the col. At this point, we’d follow the trail down to Back Forest. Our next destination was the epic Lud’s Church.
We gingerly navigated the extremely muddy path through Back Forest until, eventually, we found the way down to the chasm of Lud’s Church. Before getting down to the bottom, a small slot to the side catches my eye for a photo.
And here, we’re down to the bottom of Lud’s Church. This is a 60ft chasm in the woods of Back Forest, caused by a huge landslip in the Gritstone bedrock. Even on a warm October day, Lud’s Church is wet, dark, and refreshingly cool. It is also rather muddy.
You may be wandering about the name. This chasm has Christian history. A group of Christian reformers, the Lollards, apparently used this place to worship in the early 15th century. It may have been named after a Walter de Ludank/Walter de Lud-Auk, who was captured here at one of the aforementioned “services”.
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Barkbooth Lot, Cumbria, Spring
It was time to capture the last of this year’s bluebells.
It was time to capture the last of this year’s bluebells.
We’re fortunate in Cumbria to have quite a few options when it comes to photographing glorious bluebell displays. On this occasion we decided to revisit a local favourite that also—coincidentally—tends to be quiet: Barkbooth Lot.
Upon arrival it turns out that we were maybe slightly past Peak Bluebell, at least in Barkbooth Lot. Nevertheless, the light was lovely and the woodland is always a joy to gently wander around and find compositions to play with.
All photos taken on my Sony α7ii using my Sony FE 28–70mm f3.5–5.6 OSS zoom and Rokinon 14mm f2.8 ED AS IF UMC prime lenses. RAWs developed in Lightroom for iPad, then edited and finalised in Affinity Photo 2 for iPad.
Barkbooth Lot, Cumbria, Spring by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Soft woodland light highlights the limestone remnants, moss, and of course the bluebells in this delicious scene.
On the edge of the woods, this dead tree being consumed by vines provides an excellent subject.
The way through the woodlands, across the beck. Like a scene from a timeless fantasy novel.
A patch of bluebells enjoy the shade will unfurling ferns reach up to the morning light.
A trio (tree-oh?) or trees provide a simplified composition, with bluebells surrounding them.
A fallen tree shelters the carpet of bluebells.
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Glencoe Lochan & Glen Etive, Scotland, Winter
Somewhere new and somewhere old.
Somewhere new and somewhere old.
The draw of Glen Etive is always strong, especially with those world-famous views towards Buachaille Etive Mòr. But before we revisited what is quickly becoming known as the “Skyfall valley”, we wanted to check out somewhere new (to us).
At the foot of Glencoe, beneath the prominent peak known as the Pap of Glencoe, there’s a fair amount of woodland one can enjoy. Within that woodland one can find a small tarn known as Glencoe Lochan.
It’s super easy to get to and thankfully, on this occasion, it offered us almost perfectly clear reflections of the surrounding mountains.
After exploring the lochan, we then drove downGlen Etive for compositions of the “the Buckle” and more.
An absolute corker of a day.
All photos taken on my Fujifilm X-T2 using my Vivitar “Series 1” 28–105mm f2.8–3.8 zoom and Laowa 9mm f2.8 lenses. RAWs converted and corrected in Capture One for iPad, developed using RNI Films’ Kodachrome film profiles, then finalised in Affinity Photo 2 for iPad.
Glencoe Lochan & Glen Etive, Scotland, Winter by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Glencoe Lochan
From the village of Glencoe, the Pap of Glencoe is ever-present. The word “pap” comes from Middle English, meaning “breast”.
In the distance, this magnificent stag was happily chewing cud and enjoying the winter sun light.
The beck below the woods looked absolutely gorgeous; the water was unbelievably clear. One to think about a swim in.
The woodland beneath the Pap was chock-full of delightful scenes like this.
Soon enough we arrived at the lochan to find perfect reflections of the various mountains around.
Glencoe Lochan was planted in the 1890s by a Donald Alexander Smith, 1st Baron Strathcona and Mount Royal, using trees from the Pacific Northwest of Canada. He did this to alleviate his wife’s homesickness, who was missing Canada after moving to Scotland.
In the morning winter sun, reflections of Beinn na Caillich looked sublime.
Looking west from one of the many jetties dotted around the lochan, the pyramidal peak of Sgorr Dhearg (1,024m/3,359ft) was looking crisp.
I spotted an opportunity to focus-stack some evergreen foliage along Glencoe Lochan’s eastern shore, the reflections leading the way towards Sgorr Dhearg.
I bet this place looks absolutely insane in autumn.
Glen Etive
After stopping off at the Glencoe Ski Resort cafe for a bite and a coffee, we made our way towards Glen Etive. But first, I just had to nab this iconic building and composition. This is Blackrock Cottage, a private building that’s been featured in hundreds of photos with “the Buckle” behind it.
At the top of Glen Etive, the River Coupall crashes into the River Etive in a series of impressive cascades. It is perhaps the photographer hotspot for photos of the Buckle, and I’m no different. How can you say no to a scene like this?
Lisabet and I clambered up the River Coupall, seeking compositions of the Buckle.
To date, this is perhaps the finest shot of the Buckle I’ve ever taken. I knew there had to be a reflection in the river somewhere…
Down at the foot of Glen Etive, right on the shores of Loch Etive, I spot this little group of trees beautifully framing Stob Dubh.
Those same trees act as a leading device in another composition involving Stob Dubh.
Directly opposite our shore, Ben Starav (1,078m/3,536ft) dominates the eastern shore of Loch Etive.
The final composition of the day. Beautiful Scots pines and Stob Dubh in the distance.
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Talkin Tarn Country Park, Cumbria, Autumn
It was me Dad’s birthday at the weekend!
It was me Dad’s birthday at the weekend!
To celebrate, we all enjoyed a lovely wander around Talkin Tarn, east of Carlisle, before treating Dad to lunch.
The last time we were at Talkin Tarn was around November 2017. I only remember this because I had just bought a Sigma dp0 Quattro, and this walk was my first opportunity to put it through its paces. This was also back in my tripod days.
My tastes and shooting style have evolved significantly since then, but I still have a deep fondness for Sigma and their Foveon sensor cameras.
All photos shot on my Fujifilm X-T2 using my Vivitar “Series 1” 28–105mm f2.8–3.8 zoom lens. Images were made 95% in-camera using FujiXWeekly’s Super HG Astia recipe, then finalised in Affinity Photo 2 for iPad.
Talkin Tarn Country Park, Cumbria, Autumn by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
The woods around Talkin Tarn were holding on valiantly to the last of this year’s autumn foliage.
Though the rest of Cumbria was looking gloomy and wet, here in northeast Cumbria conditions were bright and dry.
Through the woods to get the last of this area’s autumn foliage.
Looking back at the woods and enjoying the play of light, before carrying on around the more open section of the tarn walk.
It was nice to see plenty of water fowl enjoying the tarn, no doubt somewhat desensitised to the presence of humans. There were your regulars such as Mallard ducks (Anas platyrhynchos) and Mute swans (Cygnus olor), but also Coots (Fulica atra) and Moorhens (Gallinula chloropus).
A beautiful Mute Swan, practically glowing in the morning light.
The tarn is glacial in origin, formed around 10,000 years ago after the last Ice Age. Some of the woods around the tarn are ancient.
There were plenty of other folk enjoying the light, conditions, and scenery around the tarn.
We detoured slightly from the main tarn path to explore some of the woodland above the tarn. Of course, Lisabet has a keen eye for woodland fungi.
A thoroughly pleasant day was had by all.
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Miltonrigg Woods, Cumbria, Autumn
Ever since we returned from South Wales, it basically hasn’t stopped raining in North England.
Ever since we returned from South Wales, it basically hasn’t stopped raining in North England.
This has severely limited opportunities to get and about in the local area for some quality hikes and enjoy the season’s autumn colours.
Thankfully, Sunday just gone, conditions were largely dry during a visit to my Dad’s. So, after a wee bit of Googling, we hopped into the car and drove east of Brampton for a lovely hike around Miltonrigg Woods.
Beautiful colours, gorgeous woodland. A good way to see off the last of this year’s autumn colours.
Photos taken on my Fujifilm X-T2 using my Dad’s XF18–55mm f2.8–4 zoom and my own Laowa 9mm f2.8 lens. RAWs converted in Capture One for iPad, developed in RNI Films, and finalised in Affinity Photo for iPad.
Miltonrigg Woods, Cumbria, Autumn by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Right next to the start of the walk, a beautiful scene illuminated itself before my eyes. Already the autumn colours were looking glorious and the light was just right.
A tigher composition of the illuminated ferns amongst the rusty hues of fallen leaves.
Looking back at the start of the hike. There’s nothing quite like a woodland in autumn.
Three gnarly trees entwine and reach to the skies, sheltering the fiery leaves beneath.
As the sun came out from behind the clouds, I spotted an opportunity for an ultra-wide composition featuring some of the woodland’s gorgeous ferns.
I enjoy the challenge of finding compositions and telling a simple story in an otherwise complicated landscape, such as in the woods.
The afternoon sun pierces through the seemingly endless layers of trees.
Two silver birches with a “skirt” of autumn foliage.
The light was such that you had to stay alert and keep your eyes open, as random parts of the woodland around you would suddenly illuminate and reveal a gorgeous scene to photo.
Another twisting ancient tree in a sea of ferns provides contrast against a backdrop of illuminated silver birch.
Heading back to the car park and a tunnel of light reveals a row of trees amongst a carpet of rusty leaves.
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Llandovery & Cwm Rhaeadr, South Wales, Autumn
If there’s a feature that—to my mind—typifies South Wales that isn’t it’s glorious coastline, it’s the waterfalls.
If there’s a feature that—to my mind—typifies South Wales that isn’t it’s glorious coastline, it’s the waterfalls.
In fact, in the heart of the Brecon Beacons National Park lies an area called Waterfall Country.
Outside of Waterfall Country though there are still plenty of places to find waterfalls. One of the bigger ones can be found in Cwm Rhaeadr Forest, north of the historical town of Llandovery.
After a morning spent wandering around this beautiful little town, we head to Cwm Rhaeadr forest to enjoy some forest bathing, autumnal colours, and one of the largest and most epic waterfalls we’ve ever come across.
All photos taken on my Fujifilm X-T2 using my Vivitar “Series 1” 28–105mm f2.8–3.8 zoom and Laowa 9mm f2.8 prime lenses. RAW files converted in Capture One for iPad, developed and finalised in Affinity Photo for iPad.
Llandovery & Cwm Rhaeadr, South Wales, Autumn by Ian Cylkowski is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0
Llandovery
On the southern side of Llandovery is a small knoll that overlooks the town, atop of which is perched Llandovery Castle. Next to the castle ruins is a stainless statue of Llywelyn ap Gruffydd Fychan, a wealthy Carmarthenshire landowner who was executed in Llandovery by Henry IV of England in punishment for his support of Owain Glyndŵr's Welsh rebellion.
The Normans built a castle here around 1166 AD, and it was rebuilt in stone in the 13th century. It was burnt down in the 16th century and never rebuilt. From the ruins you can enjoy vast views of the nearby hills of South Wales plus Llandovery’s car park. Lovely.
Towns in South Wales seem fond of their colourful buildings, and the Bear Inn in Llandovery is definitely one of the more vivid ones I’ve seen.
This is the 4th incarnation of Llandovery Town Hall, built in 1858 in the Italianate style. The first town hall on the site was built in 1485.
Cwm Rhaeadr Forest
In Cwm Rhaeadr Forest, glorious autumnal colours carpet the forest floor.
Our first glimpse of the massive waterfall as it roars down from Mynydd Mallaen 1,500ft above. Time to get as close and personal with the waterfall as we can.
She’s a powerful beauty! It was damned hard trying to get close to the waterfall, but many slips and slides we made it. I quickly equipped my 9mm ultra-wide lens to snap as many compositions of this waterfall’s sections as I could.
Cwm Rhaeadr waterfall drops about 100m+ from Mynydd Mallaen in between two crags, falling in several stages as various falls and cascades. That means it’s possible to scale down alongside the waterfall and shoot completely different compositions from each particular drop.
I shot many different compositions of this waterfall as we scaled down alongside it. Some were definitely shit, as getting a solid enough footing proved difficult. The ones you see above were the best I could manage.