Pleasant autumn afternoon wandering around down in Glenbrittle, Isle of Skye, Scotland. Glenbrittle is probably one of my favorite places on the island, both the the view and access to the Black Cuillins as well as the coastal hiking. This was generally my go to spot whenever I thought the sun would shine for more than a few hours – which isn’t all that often in November.
I feared Stockholm, as I did all ‘big’ cities back then. It was the summer of 2001 and my buddy Joe and I were on a 2 1/2 month trip though Scandinavia. We had good plan, yes we did. Arrive at Arlanda airport, put our backpacks on and walk out into the forest, heading north for several weeks. Visit a couple rune stones, drink from rivers and lakes, make a nice little camp fire each night and visit a town or village once every week or so to resupply on food.
Ha! Our backpacks were so heavy that we could hardly even walk. After wandering around for 45 or so minutes we discovered that one simply couldn’t ‘walk into the forest’ from the airport, or at least not without more bushwhacking than we had a desire for after some 30+ hours of no sleep. So the decision came, Stockholm or Uppsala. “Well, Uppsala is fairly small. We can go there then walk out into the forest and find a place to crash for the night, better than being stuck in some giant city with no idea where to go.” So we thought to ourselves. 45 minutes later we were getting off the bus somewhere in the middle of Uppsala around 10:00 at night. Hmm, Lost again. Luckily, my asking a woman on the street for directions in my 5 words of Swedish led to her letting us stay at her place for the night.
“We’ll probably go to Mora next.” I said.
“What? No, you don’t want to go to Mora!” Camilla replied.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Well, there is nothing there. It is just a boring town, nothing to see.” She replied. “Why don’t you go to Jämtland. There are nice mountains and lots of hiking. Quite popular among Swedes.”
So the summer started. We headed generally north through Sweden and into Norway. We ended up in some real shitholes of towns as well as some cool places. Mostly we traveled by pure dumb luck of two 20 year olds, not having a guidebook or anything for help.
By the end of July we ended up in Göteborg, a city down on the south west coast of Sweden. By this time we felt like veteran travelers. We knew that you had to get on the correct ‘wagon’ when taking the train, otherwise if you just sat in a seat with your number on it, someone else might show up looking to sit there at the next stop. We could hop on the city trams like a local and navigate the streets with only minor episodes of getting lost. We could catch ferries out to cool little islands, being the only non Swedes around. My Swedish had improved to 10 words and I actually knew how to say ‘Hemköp‘ correctly. Life under the long summer days was good. So the decision was finally made, Stockholm.
Now, to cut a long story shot, I loved Stockholm and ended up spending nearly two weeks there all in all. Normally, and even to this day, I’m not much of a fan of cities. But Stockholm, well, It is such a cool place that I can’t help but like it. I spent endless days just wandering among the narrow streets of Gamla Stan or out on the wilds of Djurgarden. Afternoons sitting in Cafe’s or eating ice cream with new friends on warm summer evenings. I guess it’s good that I put of Stockholm until the end of the trip, otherwise I may have just been lazy and sat there for 2 months…
I finally returned again in October 2009, the streets still familiar in my mind like I was just there the month before. The crisp autumn days and colors turned the city into a near magical place. As much as I liked the summer, I now think autumn is the time to visit.
View from my tent at Iceberg Lake, about 12,600 feet, towards the east face of Mount Whitney (and my smelly socks).
Sort of at the last minute I decided to make a quick trip up Whitney this past weekend before all the snow melted and before I leave California again (somewhat soon). Weather was sunny the whole time but the winds were quite strong. I’d estimate it reached 60+ mph on Sunday when I was on the summit. I didn’t even bother bringing the camera out as there was so much snow flying around. On the way up, whenever a big gust would come up, I would just have to lean into the mountain as I received a battery of snow and ice and rock for a minute or two, then climb on again. Good fun.
Mount Whitney Mountaineers Route – Images by Cody Duncan
Church ruin, Kilmuir, Isle of Skye, Scotland.
I’ve no idea of the history of this ruin. Though by the looks and condition of it, I wouldn’t imagine it to be more than 200 or so years old, which is relatively new by Skye standards. It’s a big structure, offset from the ‘highway’ by about a half mile or so. Perhaps it simply fell out of use with time and population decline. Now only sheep and cows walk among the walls, and American photographers.
Neist Point Lighthouse, Isle of Skye, Scotland.
What can’t be seen in these photos is the 60-70 mph winds that were screaming over the the island. Near where I was standing for the first photo was a small waterfall, flowing completely in reverse. No water was making it down the cliff, it was all being blown backwards towards were it came, and soaking me as I had to pass by.
If there was bus service to Neist Point, it would probably be the most popular tourist location on Skye, but since it is a fairly long drive from Portree, it’s only the 2nd most popular location. On a nice sunny (and calm) day it is a pleasant place to hike around and enjoy the scenery – some of the most dramatic cliffs on Skye are here. There is a paved walkway most of the way to the lighthouse, but if it has been raining a lot, bring waterproof boots if you want to go further as there is some fairly evil bog that needs to be crossed. The mountains of South Uist are visible in the distance.
Standing Stones of Stenness, Orkney.
The Stenness stones, along with the Ring of Brodgar form part of the UNESCO world heritage site known as ‘the Heart of Neolithic Orkney.’ From Stenness, Brodgar is within eyesight and about a 5 minute walk to the north. The Neolithic chambered cairn, Maeshowe, is also within visible and also a short walk away.
Even though the stones are man made, their age makes the appear as just another element of the Orkadian landscape. Something that is just ‘there’ as you drive by in a car or are looking out the window of a bus. Covered in moss, struck by lightning, and standing among grazing sheep, simply ‘there;’ part of a living land.
Loch Ba and Rannoch Moor on a cold December afternoon. I was given a few moments to photograph the still water, then drop, drop, drop and the return of the rain.
Winter dawn at Ring of Brodgar, Orkney, Scotland.
In December, the sun has little strength to rise very far above the horizon this far in the north. The winter days are short and the nights long, only to be reversed in a few months during the endless days of summer. Such a contrast of light at dark that I never knew growing up at a more mild latitude. No wonder that the sun played such an important role in the lives of the ancient peoples of this barren land.
It is always a strange feeling for me to walk amongst something so old. To think that these stones have seen some 5,000 winters, and will probably see another 5,000 more; it helps to put things in perspective about the importance of our ‘achievements.’
The rugged and rocky coastline at at Elgol with it’s view back towards the mighty Black Cuillins as they rise from Lock Scavaig is one of the more iconic photo locations on the Isle of Skye. As long as one is willing to gamble on good weather, it is well worth the long drive down the winding single lane road.
Snow covered peak on the left is Gars-Bheinn at the start of the famous Cuillin ridge. Sgurr na Stri is the lower, snowless peak towards the center. To the left of that sits Loch Coruisk, another marvelously scenic, and isolated, place and Skye. There is a nice hiking route that starts in the north at Sligachan and passes by loch Coruisk and then around the coast under Sgurr na Stri to Camasunary and eventually finishing here at Elgol.
One of my stupider moments in life happened along the coast under Sgurr na Stri. It had just finished raining ( = slippery rocks), I was trying to eat a piece of chocolate while at the same time messing with my camera to take a picture of Bla Bheinn rising above the Camasunary bothy. Well, I slipped and ended up upside down; nothing bad, just a little ‘oops’ moment. Not wanting to drop my camera on the muddy ground, I couldn’t use my hands to get myself up. And not wanting to drop the piece of chocolate in my mouth that I had been munching on, I couldn’t talk clearly enough to ask my friend to pull on my backpack to help me up. So was upside down with my backpack on top of me and unable to move. Totally stuck, but only because I didn’t want to drop my camera or chocolate. Finally my friend came to the rescue after a moment of wondering if I was practicing some new form of mountain yoga. Luckily there was only two of us to witness this event.
Last week my brother talked me into heading back out into the desert to join a group of people driving the old Mojave road. The road is a 130 mile 4wd dirt road with follows an old Native American trading route and later route of Spanish missionaries through California’s Mojave desert to the shores of the Colorado river on the California – Nevada border.
