Levang is a collection of rugged, remote, mountainous landscapes. Places where the mood is still governed by the seasons and the weather; where if the wind drops you can hear a pin drop in the heather; and where you’re glad of the sight of an inn at the day’s end.
Sligachan Bridge, Isle of Skye, Scotland
We came to Skye to walk in the black Cuillin, an ominous and foreboding ridge of mountains where footpaths fade to bare rock. From the bridge on the new road, this was our first view of the hills, red Cuillin on the left, black Cuillin on the right, the river Sligachan flowing under the old bridge. Our attempt at the mountains was thwarted by a descending mist, which quickly enveloped the peaks and our route. In the following days the mist was ever present, and wherever we were on Skye we could make out the Cuillin by the black clouds that hung over them, scraping their summits.
“The Cuillin… they will never look the same for very long, now blue, now grey, now silver, sometimes seeming to retreat or to advance, but always drenched in mystery and terrors” – H. V. Morton
Nikon D700. Nikor 18-35mm @ 20 mm. 15 seconds at f20, IS0 100
Hardknott Cairn, The Lakes, England
Every summer thousands of people drive their cars over Hardknott Pass. Its hairpin bends, steep gradients, and single-track road, combining to create a unique driving experience. At the top of the pass most drive on, unaware that a short walk in the direction of up would take them to the summit of Hardknott itself and to one of the best viewpoints in the Lake District. In front upper Eskdale dominated by the Scafell Massif, the highest ground in England. To the left Hardknott fort, lower Eskdale, the Irish Sea, and onto the Isle of Man. To the right, commanding the head of the valley, Bow Fell.
Sony RX1, 1/2000th second at f2, ISO 50
Coniston Old Man, The Lakes, England
Scarred by copper & slate mines, Coniston Old Man has been an unlikely site of industry since the 12-13th century. The workings, now abandoned, provide shelter for both sheep and passing walkers.
Nikon D800, 1/60th second at f5.6, ISO 400
Buachaille Etive Mor, Scotland
Setting off across Rannoch Moor from the Kings House Hotel, with the rain and mist set in for the day, taking the camera bag seemed like an exercise in futility. After three or so miles of constant drizzle, and with no sign of improvement, we turned back towards the warmth of the bar. But as we walked the sky brightened, the rain slowed, and the clouds began to lift, revealing the expanse of the moor, and Buachaille Etive Mor dead ahead. By chance, at the side of the path was a still, reedy pool, and in its calm the mountains reflection. A perfect moment.
Nikon D700, 1/200th second at f9, ISO 400
Y Garn from Tryfan, Snowdonia, Wales
We’d climbed Tryfan’s North Ridge, scrambling up and over boulders, following others in the absence of any defined pathway. At the summit I practiced leaping from rock to rock before leaping from Adam to Eve. As we descended the South Ridge and out from under the mist at the summit, Y Garn, with the giant footsteps of Llyn Bochlwyd and Llyn Idwal before it, came into view.
Sigma DP2 Quattro, 1/250th second at f6.3, ISO 100
Lochan na h-Achclaise, Scotland
I could have lingered by the shores of Lochen Nah-Achlaise for hours, entranced by its beauty and tranquility on this perfect September day. But fifteen minutes after stopping I was again heading south, friends to meet, a nine-hour journey ahead, the Loch fading into the distance behind.
Nikon D700, 1/80th second at f18, ISO 400