The Perils, Pains, and Peculiarities of Photographing Great Staple Tor
There is a particular brand of madness unique to professional landscape photography. It involves voluntarily hauling thirty pounds of metal and glass up a sheer, rain slickened English hill, all for the distinct privilege of standing in a gale while waiting for a sun that has no intention of showing its face. I have visited Great Staple Tor on Dartmoor more times than my cardiologist would care to know, and the location has rewarded me with little more than lung busting disappointment.
My most recent calamity occurred a few months back. Having wheezed, groaned, and dragged my protesting frame to the summit, I was prepared to capture the glorious, unspoiled majesty of Devon. Instead, I was greeted by Dartmoor’s answer to The Hangover. A small cluster of youth, and let us be honest, everyone looks unnervingly young to me these days, were enjoying a rather spirited evening. The scene was punctuated by a minor mountain of empty lager cans and a single, surprisingly plump cigarette that was being passed around with communal enthusiasm. While a gritty urban photographer might have swooned at this tableau of rustic excess, it was not quite the sweeping, pristine wilderness I had envisioned for my portfolio.
Undeterred, or perhaps merely too foolish to know when I am beaten, I made the gruelling trudge up the Tor once again a few weeks later. As I crested the summit, my heart sank directly into my walking boots. Sprouting ominous and unmistakable above the ancient granite was the flexible fiberglass spine of a tent pole.
Thankfully, this episode proved less rural rave and more Carry On Camping (though without the legendary airborne bra, I should hasten to add). But with the sun slowly dipping toward the horizon and painting the cloud cover in remarkably promising shades of crimson, I was damned if I was going empty handed again.
Refusing to resort to digital trickery, I was forced into an extreme low angle composition to shoot past the campsite. This required assuming a crouch that I am reasonably certain violates several Geneva Conventions on cruel and unusual punishment. The sun, sensing my agony, seemed to slow its descent to a glacial crawl, apparently delighting in the spectacle of an overweight photographer squatted in a position that would make a seasoned yoga master wince.
Eventually, the shutter clicked, and the frame was secured. All that remained was the agonizingly undignified process of returning my spine to a vertical position. This was accompanied by a string of choice, industrial-strength expletives, along with a cheery, apologetic wave to two thoroughly startled campers who had just unzipped their tent to witness a grown man cursing at a rock.
How to Shoot Sunset at Great Staple Tor (Without the Pain)
If you're planning your own photographic pilgrimage to Dartmoor's iconic granite peaks, a few practical tips can help you avoid my misadventures:
Composition Hacks: When unwanted elements (campers, fence posts, or stray beer cans) invade your frame, try shooting from a ultra low perspective using a wide angle lens. This allows you to use foreground rocks to naturally block distractions while emphasizing the massive scale of the Tor.
The Climb: Park at the pork-pie shaped car park near Merrivale on the B3357. The hike up Great Staple Tor is short (under a mile), but it is steep, uneven, and guaranteed to test your cardiovascular limits. Wear sturdy boots with good ankle support.
Best Light: Sunset is unquestionably the prime time for Staple Tor. The setting sun lights up the western faces of the granite stacks with a brilliant golden orange glow, ideal for dramatic wide-angle compositions
Dramatic sunset behind granite rock towers at Great Staple Tor, Dartmoor.