Preparing for wet weather photography in the hills

Why wet weather is worth the effort

Ask anyone who photographs the British hills for long enough and they will tell you the same thing: the finest light usually arrives on the least promising days. Flat grey mornings can break into shafts of sun across a misty valley; a front moving through can leave rainbows, glistening rock and waterfalls at full spate. The trick is not to chase perfect conditions, but to stay comfortable and keep your equipment working long enough for the good moments to arrive.

That means treating wet weather as a systems problem rather than a test of endurance. If you and your kit are dry, you will happily stand in the rain for another hour. If your lens is fogged, your fingers are numb and your rucksack is filling with water, you will be back at the car before the light turns. The preparation below is simple, cheap and makes an enormous difference.

Sort yourself out first

You are the weakest link in the chain. A cold, soaked photographer makes poor decisions and stops noticing compositions. Build your layers so that you can stand still for twenty minutes in horizontal rain without shivering.

• Waterproof shell with a proper hood that stays up in wind and does not flap across your viewfinder. Pit zips help you dump heat on the climb.
• Waterproof trousers — not just for walking, but for kneeling and sitting on wet grass, which you will do constantly.
• Waterproof gloves plus a thin liner pair. The liners let you fiddle with dials and memory cards without exposing bare skin.
• A warm hat and a spare pair of gloves in a dry bag, because wet gloves stay wet all day.
• A small sit mat or folded foam square strapped to the outside of your pack. Kneeling in a bog is much more appealing when your knees stay dry.

Keep the kit dry: covers, bags and liners

The single most useful habit is to line your rucksack with a large dry bag or a heavy-duty rucksack liner before you pack anything. Waterproof rucksacks leak at seams and zip; a liner does not. Inside that, group your equipment into smaller dry bags so that opening one does not expose everything.

• Camera and lens: in a padded dry bag or a dedicated rain cover that fits over the whole body and lens hood.
• Spare batteries and cards: in a small roll-top dry bag. Cold and damp are both unkind to batteries, so keep spares in an inside pocket close to your body.
• Filters and cloths: in a soft pouch, never loose in a pocket where grit and moisture will find them.
• Tripod: the legs can get wet, but wipe and dry the head and leg locks when you get home, or they will seize.

Add two or three silica gel sachets to your main bag and swap them for dry ones regularly. They will not save a soaking, but they quietly deal with the damp that creeps in over a long day.

Cloths, condensation and the front element

Raindrops on the front element ruin more photographs than bad light ever will, and wiping with a damp sleeve simply smears the problem across the frame. Carry at least three microfibre cloths, kept in separate dry bags, and use them only on glass. A lens hood is essential — it shields the front element from wind-driven rain and from stray light, and it means you can often shoot without a filter when the weather is closing in.

Condensation is the sneakier enemy. If you take a cold camera into a warm café or car, moisture will form inside and on every surface. The fix is to slow the change in temperature: seal the camera in a dry bag or a zip-lock bag while you are still outside, let it warm up gradually, and only then open it. The same applies when you take a warm camera out into the cold — give it a few minutes before you expect clear glass.

Shooting tactics when the rain settles in

Once the rain is set, change what you are looking for. Instead of wide vistas, hunt for detail and mood.

• Water itself: streams in spate, water sheeting off rock, droplets on heather and fence wire. These need a fast shutter to freeze or a slow one for silky flow — a tripod and a polariser earn their keep.
• Mist and layered ridges: the classic British hill shot. Underexpose slightly to hold the atmosphere and let near-black ridges frame pale distance.
• Wet stone and woodland: slate, limestone and tree bark come alive in the rain, with deep colour and strong texture.
• Change lenses rarely, and never in the open. If you must swap, do it inside your jacket, sheltered by your body, with the camera pointing downwards.

An umbrella strapped to your rucksack or held with one hand is not a fashion statement in the hills, but it is the most effective rain cover ever invented. Just be careful on exposed ridges where wind will turn it inside out in seconds.

A simple routine before you set off

Ten minutes at the car park saves hours of frustration.

• Check a mountain-specific forecast and note the wind speed as well as the rain — wind is what drives water into places you did not expect.
• Line the pack, pack in dry bags, and put a spare microfibre cloth in an accessible pocket rather than at the bottom.
• Fit the rain cover before you need it, not after the first shower.
• Tell someone your route and rough timings, and carry a headtorch — wet days end early.

Do this and damp conditions become just another kind of weather to work in, rather than a reason to stay in the valley. Some of your best frames will come from the days nobody else bothered to walk up the hill.