12 Scottish Exposures - Michael Swallow Photography

The A939 from Lecht to Aviemore (23rd June 2014)

After pedalling for hours in torrential rain through the Cairngorms of Scotland, the sun broke through and I had this lovely view. I stopped for a breather and took this photograph on my camera-phone. Little did I know that I was actually taking a picture of the very bend and patch of gravel that I was to skid on and crash just 5 minutes later.

Picking myself up I realised I had broken my arm quite badly. I was cycling on my own, there was no phone signal, but fortunately a passing motorist was on hand to assist and take me to hospital (thank you Donald!) Not a life threatening injury, but a significant one that still effects me on a daily basis, primarily because I can’t straighten my arm anymore - I function pretty normally, it’s just something that is always there - the main problem is reaching out of the car window for car park tickets and holding the press-up position with straight arms during BMF sessions, but I can live with that. As my surgeon pointed out… you can reach your mouth and your back passage!

A year or so after the accident I decided that I wanted to revisit the bend and try and figure out what happened, it’s all a bit of a blur. One minute I was riding along, and not particularly quickly, next I’d just lost control of the bike and hit the deck. The road was falling away from me, my brakes were wet and not really functioning, so I was accelerating down the hill against an awkward camber, as I accelerated I braked harder, causing a skid, so I released, and accelerated again. I realised I was going straight for the barrier, any turn of the bars to direct me away from the barrier would have caused me to topple. Attempting to unclip my right foot caused a slight shift in balance and my front wheel just went, I hit the deck, full on, right on the point of my elbow. Technical name for my injury is a displaced olecranon (see pics at end… nice!)

Revisiting the bend was the start of a photographic journey round Scotland.

I have an old Mamiya C330 twin lens reflex camera, it was the camera I used when I studied for my degree in photography at Napier College in Edinburgh, this was my camera of choice for this project.

The idea of shooting on film appealed to me, not least because it is the process I know. I grew up shooting on film, there was no digital imaging when I first developed a roll of black and white film back in 1977, so a genuine engagement with the process, it also seemed like a good antidote to the glut of digital imagery that bombards us today. With this in mind I limited myself to just one roll of 12 exposures - hence the title ’12 Scottish Exposures’

This is the camera that I used on my trip round Scotland,󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 a Mamiya c330 twin lens reflex. It is a marvellous mechanical contraption. The focus is achieved by a rack and pinion arrangement that contracts and extends a set of leather bellows, you hear a lovely creak as you rack the focus in and out. As you wind on to advance the film through the chamber you see a rotating spindle that cocks the shutter for the next exposure, and during a long exposure a satisfying clockwork whirr can be heard as light silently enters the camera to make its mark.

The A939 from Lecht to Aviemore (September 2015)

Taken on my Mamiya twin lens, this image was taken from exactly the same spot as my original camera phone shot (although if I'm being very precise - which I am! - looking at the alignment of the second red roadside maker and the chevron sign on the left, I'd say this one was taken from a few inches to the right (compare with frame 1 in this series)).

The A939 from Aviemore to Lecht (September 2015)

Looking back towards the bend where I crashed, you can just see it, about half way up the frame and over to the right. A beautiful road through the heart of the Cairngorms.

(September 2015) One of the main reasons for my tour of Scotland was to visit the passing motorist Donald, and to thank him and his wife Lois for their kindness and generosity. If it wasn’t for their help and support I would have been in a spot of bother.

As I arrived at their house this was the scene that greeted me, yes Donald from the highlands of Scotland does have a castle, and I did not put that duck there!

Looking west from Ardnamurchan Point - the most westerly point of mainland UK (September 2015)

Shooting on film you don’t have the benefit of live review and refinement, but using negative film and allowing for that antiquated phenomena known as reciprocity failure, I knew I was better to overexpose than under. 10 minutes at f16 proved about right.

See my series Cardinal Points for more like this.

Looking west from Ardnamurchan Point - the most westerly point of mainland UK (September 2015)

Sanna, Ardnamurchan (September 2015)

When I started taking photographs almost 40 years ago I would search the local woods and parks round Bramhall where I grew up, or on the beaches of North Wales where we took family holidays, looking for patterns rhythms and textures of nature; essentially those are the precepts that underpin my work to this day.

Sanna, Ardnamurchan (September 2015)

Photography has taken me all round the world, but the beaches on the west coast of Scotland are the most beautiful and unspoilt that I’ve seen.

Ardnamurchan (September 2015)

60 million years ago I would have been looking into a bubbling volcano.

Loch Linnhe (September 2015)

Commando Memorial, Spean Bridge (September 2015)

Ben Nevis (September 2015)

The mist drew my attention to the elegant form and structure of this cairn near the summit of Ben Nevis, it also served to hi-light the importance of such a primitive navigational device - that is, marking the path and making sure you don’t step into the abyss of the 800m sheer drop down Five Finger Gully. A reassuring sight in the age of digital navigation. The traditional process of shooting on film echoes this simplicity, I like that sense of synergy.

Similar to the basics of navigation (see cairn in previous image) and basics of photography, I love the fact that amongst all the intricacies of surgery, anatomy and physiology, my elbow was fixed together with a bracket and seven screws!

Here are the seven screws and bracket, with a pinch of gravel from the road, all kept neatly in a tin of shortbread that was in my back pocket when I crashed. My own personal and unique souvenir of my trip to Scotland.

In Donald's car en-route to hospital. I couldn't see my elbow, so I took a picture of it to see the extent of my injury. Ouch!