Out In The Storm

A Gap In The Clouds

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wind began last night, rattling the trees and roaring round the chimney stacks. With it came rain and, oddly for midnight in December, a rise in temperatures. I woke several times in the dark as bigger gusts of wind banged and cracked. By dawn the temperature had dropped below freezing and everything was icy with frozen rain. Light snow was falling and the wind was still very strong.

Heavy Snow Falling

By afternoon the wind had dropped to merely gale force. A bitterly cold north-west wind driving thick clouds and heavy snow showers across the sky. The temperature was -1C, the highest it reached all day, when I ventured out to see what I could of the stormy world. Underfoot the ground was crunchy and slippery, icy patches hidden under a thin skim of snow.

White-Out

The snow came horizontally, driven hard by the wind. Cold and dry it streaked across the land. Gusts of wind picked up fallen snow and sent it whirling through the air in great clouds. At times as the swirl of snow from both ground and sky whipped all around me I was in a near white-out, only able to see hazy distant trees and tufts of vegetation. The snow stung my face and I walked with my gloved hand shielding my cheeks and my jacket hood pulled tight.

A Glimpse of Distant Hills

The world felt confined and small, enclosing me in a cocoon of snow, yet at the same time vast and endless, a white cloud stretching to infinity. The hills were invisible except in a brief gaps below the clouds. Mostly the world was restricted to a few hundred metres or less.

As I walked home the clouds parted to reveal a thin crescent moon hanging in the cold winter sky.

BMC Ambassador for Hillwalking

Above Derwentwater in the Lake District

I am delighted and honoured to be the British Mountaineering Council's first ever Ambassador for Hillwalking. As is this is a new role I'm not sure exactly what will be involved but I will be popping up at various time to promote hillwalking and the work of the BMC. Whilst the BMC has always represented hillwalkers in England and Wales and has done valuable work in the areas of access and conservation it's public face has tended to be more about climbing. This changed last year when Carey Davies was appointed as the BMC's first hillwalking officer. I'll be working closely with Carey, who I know from his days as Deputy Editor of The Great Outdoors.

This will be an interesting challenge and I'm looking forward to working with the BMC over the next few years. The official announcement can be seen here.

The picture was taken on a visit to the Lake District last May. I do go walking south of the Scottish border sometimes!

Twenty-Four Hours Later Winter Returns

Meall a'Bhuachaille, 4pm Dec 3

Within 24 hours of my taking the photograph of the Cairngorms after a big thaw that appeared in my last post the snow returned. Heavy rain, low cloud and chilling rain didn't make the highest tops seem very attractive so I headed for 810 metre Meall a'Bhuachaille above Glenmore, a wonderful viewpoint for the Northern Cairngorms when the skies are clear. On this occasion the clouds didn't lift and visibility was restricted to 100 metres or less. As I wandered through the forest to Ryvoan Pass the rain fell steadily and the cloud was brushing the forest edge on the slopes above. By the time I reached Ryvoan Bothy the rain was sleety and beginning to whiten the heather. The climb steepens here. Soon I was in the cloud and the precipitation was snow.

The summit was cold and wintry, the sky thick with snow. A brief stop and then down, skidding on the slippery stony path. The cloud base was around 500 metres, the snow was settling down to 400 metres. More is forecast. Winter has returned to the Cairngorms.

Big Thaw in the Cairngorms

The last few days has seen a big thaw of snow in the Northern Cairngorms. All the low level snow had already gone and when the mountains appeared out of the clouds today for the first time in many days it was clear that the thaw had reached the summits. That said, more snow is now forecast for later this week so by next weekend the hills could be white again. The Scottish winter is never predictable!

The photo was taken on December 2 at 3.15pm.

Hill Tracks, Plantations & Wind Farms: the slow decline in Scottish wild land

Last week a report on hill tracks in Scotland was published by Scottish Environment LINK on behalf of nine conservation organisations. Track Changes by Dr Calum Brown shows how current legislation is insufficient to prevent damaging roads being built in the Scottish hills. The report is detailed but it's enough to look at the pictures to see that there is a big problem. The report stirred up debate on social media and blogs, with an especially good piece from Cameron McNeish on the Walk Highlands website.

Reading the report and the response had me thinking about my Scottish Watershed walk last summer and the environmental damage I had seen. A walk the length of Scotland, almost all of it in wild land, was an excellent way to gain a snapshot of what is happening. Firstly, let me say that most of the damage I saw was long-standing and not that obvious, namely over-grazing by sheep and deer. To be truly wild the Scottish hills need far more natural forest. Overall the potential for this is excellent. It just requires the will to carry it out, a will that is being exercised in an increasing number of places.

Whilst my walk showed that most wild country has not been damaged by developments, despite what some commentators say, there are problems, and they are increasing, leading to a slow nibbling away of wild land. Wind farms are the main concern of many people and in some areas, especially in the Southern Uplands, they have had a real detrimental effect on wild land. However my observations on the Watershed put them third after forestry plantations and vehicle tracks in terms of both visual and physical impact.

The hard, straight edges of plantations look unnatural from a distance and draw the eye, breaking hillsides up into rigid blocks. Where there is clear-cutting hillsides look awful, a blasted mess of tangled dead tree remnants. Of course the forest will return to cleared areas and if left alone for many decades a plantation will slowly revert to a more natural state. However, although forest owners are mitigating the effects of plantations in some areas by softening the edges with deciduous trees, overall forest policy is still for blocks of trees and clear-cutting. Inside a plantation it can seem quite natural - I walked through many on the Watershed and much preferred being inside them rather than looking at them from outside. Animal, bird and plant life inside the lines of closely packed conifers is greatly reduced from that found in a natural forest though. Rather than plantations the regeneration of the natural forest (which would now include Sitka spruce, larch and other 'non-native' trees) is the way to increase wildness. 

 

Vehicle tracks, whether bulldozed roads or ones formed by repeated driving over vulnerable areas, are the fastest spreading developments in the hills, hence the need for the Track Changes report. Estates are mostly building these roads in order to get shooting clients in and out of the hills fast. The idea of walking and using ponies seems to have been forgotten. Estates claim the tracks are for 'agricultural purposes' and so don't need planning permission. Some roads are wide enough for two big lorries to pass each other and have huge spoil heaps on either side. The damage they do physically is enormous and they also look hideous. Control of such tracks - and the removal of many of them - is very important for the survival of wild land.

Wind farms also require many tracks but these are included in the permission for the turbines. They do the same damage as any other tracks of course. Wind farms themselves are a problem in some areas and a potential problem in many others. However for most of the Watershed walk I didn't see any so they have not yet had the impact many people believe they've had.

The worst damage I saw was the work along the Beauly-Denny power line, which the Watershed touches at one point. Huge bulldozed roads and massive pylons turn the areas it passes through into industrial landscapes. The roads are supposed to be removed once the pylons are in place (which will be a huge job in itself) but some estates are saying they wish to keep them as they will be 'useful'.

What can be done about all this? Hopefully, the planning proposals to protect SNH's core wild land plus designated National Scenic Areas that I wrote about back in April will go ahead, and will include regulations on tracks. On this there is a Consultationon Core Areas of Wild Land 2013 Map taking place and I would urge everyone concerned about the protection of wild land in Scotland to comment.

All the photographs were taken during my Scottish Watershed walk last June and July.

Cairngorms for Christmas ........ and some other ideas

As it's time for Christmas gift buying here's a few suggestions from my work for lovers of mountains and wild places. The first one is the film I made with Terry Abraham earlier this year - The Cairngorms In Winter - which is available on DVD with some outtakes and other extras from some outdoor shops and from Striding Edge - see box to the right.

If you like the Cairngorms and mountain photography there's also my book - A Year In The Life Of The Cairngorms - which is packed with images of these wonderful mountains

For the Scottish hills as a whole, including the Cairngorms, there's my big Cicerone World Mountain Series book, Scotland. This is also full of pictures plus information on suggested walks, geology, natural history and more.

Finally if you fancy venturing abroad there's my account of my 1200 mile walk along the Pacific Northwest Trail, Grizzly Bears and Razor Clams.

First Snow Camp of the Winter

Dawn

  

With a thaw forecast a last venture out in the first big snowfall of the winter seemed very attractive, especially as there looked like being twenty-four hours or so of good weather. The idea of a snow camp, the first for eight months, was also appealing. As I hadn't been up it yet this year I decided to head for Bynack More, an outlier of the main Cairngorms massif.

The walk began in pine woods still dotted with yellow-leaved birch trees. Down here a thaw had already stripped away much of the snow, leaving a complex dappled pattern of light and dark, snow and tree and heather. Lochan Uaine was green with tree reflections. No ice yet. Beyond the trees the snow cover slowly spread and deepened. Once the climbing really began it was crunchy and unstable, sometimes supporting my foot, sometimes collapsing as I put weight on it. High clouds kept the light flat and dull and there was only a hint of pink in the western sky.

Above the long cleft of Strath Nethy I crossed the high moor below Bynack More. Somewhere here I would camp. It's not a place I'd choose in summer - the ground is either boggy or gravel and there's no water nearby. Snow can be levelled for a flat bed and melted for water, opening up many places for comfortable camps. This one I'd never used before and I was curious to know what the dawn would bring as I pitched the tent as darkness fell.

Sunrise

The evening was calm with the temperature just below freezing. I fell asleep watching stars coming and going between the high drifting clouds. Wet cold air brushing my face woke me hours later. A wind had sprung up and was blowing spindrift into the tent. Although the middle of the night it was lighter than when I'd gone to sleep. I looked out at a bright half-moon and a starry sky. The clouds had gone with the wind.

A Comfortable Camp

Hours more passed before I opened my eyes again. The light had changed. The sky was turning from black to blue and a yellow-orange line on the horizon spoke of the still-hidden sun. Bands of cloud again streaked the sky. The temperature was -4°C. I lit the stove and lay in my sleeping bag watching the sun rise over distant hills. The dawn was glorious. Reason enough to be here in this wild and beautiful world.

Ben Avon from the ascent of Bynack More

Leaving camp I headed up the long rocky north ridge of Bynack More. No more than a walk in summer, with some optional easy scrambling, it was rather more difficult covered with hard snow and rime ice. I stayed just below the crest, out of the cutting wind. As the slope steepened I stopped to put on crampons and swap a trekking pole for an ice axe. The going was easier on the firm surface than on the breakable crusty snow below however and I was soon on the windswept rocky summit looking out on the vast array of the Cairngorms. The weather was already changing with the clouds thickening from the west. 

View from Bynack More

Crampons biting securely into the shiny snow I crossed the lower top of Bynack Beg and descended steeply into Strath Nethy. Flocks of white ptarmigan flew low over the hillsides. As I neared the flat valley bottom I was catching the crampons in heather as often as I was stamping them into snow. Off with them. They were becoming hazardous. The River Nethy was low and easily boulder-hopped. An arduous climb through more patchy snow and clinging heather then it was a final skid down a steep little-used path through the woods. The whole trip had only lasted twenty-four hours but I had been transported into another more elemental world and the experience had been intense.

Strath Nethy