Species Assimilation or... I Become a Rock Rat

Have you ever been in the midst of doing something you love and someone comes along only to inform you that yes, it really CAN be better? So began my friendship with Nigel Blake who informed me one day whilst photographing F-15E Strike Eagles outside of RAF Lakenheath. For his side of the story, please read his entry hereabout our adventures this past week. But let's get to the meat of why we're here... AIRPLANES!

Rumor had it there was a mystical place in Wales where one could stand on a mountain as military jets went screaming by you at the speed-o-heat and, making it even better, even with or perhaps BELOW your level giving you a unique perspective. Always up for a good adventure I joined Nigel at O'stupid-thirty one day and we were off to Wales.



Arriving at about 8am Nigel kindly informed me we were entering the domain of the Rock Rats.

"Uh, Rock Rats?"

"Yeah, we have a nickname. Lowfly spotters have been called Rock Rats on the freqs."

I'd never been called a rat before (OK, that's a lie) but I somehow felt good about this title I was trying to earn. We parked in the lay-by and donned our gear: 90% camera equipment, 6% snacks and 4% gear for when everything went wrong (which it didn't thankfully). Crossing the stile we began a lovely ankle-twisting trek up a sheep path to ascend around 300 feet or so to our perch noted by a small star on the following photo.



From this point I noticed a couple of things: it was windy, it was cloudy and there was a decided lack of fast-moving pointy-things. Yes, I know that was three things but don't get technical. Something else I noticed is that as usual, the people present to watch the planes were friendly and helpful even with my glaringly obvious non-UK accent. Spotters are an unusually friendly crowd but when you narrow it down to a sub-group that like to climb into the mountains to view them the commaraderie goes off the scale. I dare say I immediately felt at home among these blokes.



So there's banter and joking and the orienting of the new guy to what comes squirting out of where when someone yells HERC 2-SHIP! and I thought I would wet myself. I felt like a rabbit when he's discovered, I really didn't know where to look but then I saw two small yet familiar shapes curving around from the left and I went HOLY COW then they were past me, down the valley towards the lake and Tal y llyn and then they were gone.

I thought my face would crack I was smiling so hard...



I was now a Rock Rat... And the day went on, sometimes dragging while at times it flew by as type after type was added to my collection of aircraft photographed "in the weeds" from CAD West.







And next thing I knew, the day was over. Was I nuts?!?!?! Oh yeah... Tomorrow couldn't come too soon for me.

We spent the night in a lovely river-side hotel called The Dolbrodmaeth and had a grand rack of lamb meal at The Royal Ship Inn. Please consider them should you be in the area. I'd stay and eat at both which is about as high a recommendation you'll get from me!

Day two began with my first ever full-English breakfast at the Dolbrodmaeth and I simply cannot believe I ate the whole thing. A fried egg, sausages, a rasher of bacon, baked beans, grilled mushrooms and tomatoes, toast and the hottest coffee I have ever had. How I was going to get it up another hill was beyond me.

This day we would be on the opposite side of the valley on Cad East. A little higher and on a brilliant day would seem to loose some of the afternoon light but today was spotty on the sunshine so the sky acted like a giant softbox. It was the right choice. And it would prove to be just as challenging as I was yet again new to the spot and had to quickly figure out where to point my lense and the fast-moving pointy-things.

Luckily it was a Herc that started the day to help me get my panning form warmed-up. This time a C-mod even if he was a little high. It has got to be a real pucker to sling one of those through the Loop.



More hawks doing some great maneuvering through the valley and then my treat for the day: a single Typhoon followed by a 2-ship of those speed-demon Harriers.















And we were done. The light had gone to pot and as we were packing up a single J-model Herc passed through but we were finished and resigned ourselves to waving with our trekking poles as he blew past us. Arriving home after a long, long drive found me spent and exhausted (OK, a giant burger at Little Chef probably didn't help matters) but at the same time I knew I was hooked. 11 hours of driving, nearly twenty hours standing on the exposed edges of the Welsh hills to experience two minutes and fifty-four seconds of possible exposure time. Any chance I'd go back?

Well, I hear there's F-15s in them thar hills...

Many thanks to my good friend Nigel Blake for making this trip possible and all the Rock Rats I met during my two days in Wales. Your hospitality was wonderful, your knowledge freely given and your tolerance of a newcomer greatly appreciated. But I must warn you, I'll be back!