New edition packed with photos never published before.
It's the time of year for my annual book promotion. If you're looking for a book about hiking or backpacking as a present for someone or even yourself I've written a few that might be of interest including stories of long walks and guidebooks.
Stories of two very different long-distance walks just four years apart, one in the deserts of the SW USA, the other in the definitely not desert Scottish Highlands.
If you've already enjoyed any of my books please tell others and post comments and reviews on social media and online bookshops. Even a simple 'like' helps. For writers this makes a huge difference. Word of mouth and personal recommendations are invaluable.
A collection of essays on a variety of outdoor topics, a guide to a favourite area of the Scottish Highlands, and the story of a long and tough walk along the watershed of Scotland.
Advice, skills, gear, suggestions.
A detailed guide to the Scottish hills & the story of my Pacific Crest Trail hike.
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Thank you if you do purchase something or click on one of the links.
The January TGO has a tribute to TGO's founding editor, Roger Smith, who sadly died recently. Roger was also one of the creators and for many years the co-ordinator of the TGO Challenge. I think it is fair to say that both the magazine and the event may well not exist without all the work and effort Roger put into them.
Unsurprisingly this issue has a wintry theme. The opening spread is a dramatic image of climbers on Am Basteir on the Cuillin Ridge in winter by Hamish Frost.
There's a big feature called The Power Of Cold in which various outdoors people who love winter and snow are interviewed. I'm one of them, talking about winter camping along with David Lintern, a section illustrated with four of my snow camping photos. The whole feature starts with a double-page spread of another of my winter camp photos, taken on a memorable dawn after a bitter January night. In the same pages Gilly McArthur describes the joy of cold water swimming illustrated with shiver-making photos including plunge holes in ice (not something for me!) and Carla Khouri and Alice Kerr discuss becoming devoted winter walkers. There's advice for coping with the cold from Mountain Leader Jenny Bushell too.
The wintry theme continues with the story of a winter Wainwrights round by fellwalkers David Johnson and Nicky Oliver (and Floki the dog), and an account of snowshoeing in the Austrian Tyrol by Alex Roddie, along with advice on learning how to snowshoe.
Away from winter Adam Weymouth writes about his walk retracing the 1000-mile migration of a lone wolf across Europe, as told in his book Lone Wolf: Walking the Faultlines of Europe, which I am looking forward to reading.
In The Long Review section of the gear pages I write about my now old and well-worn Paramo Aspira Jacket and Fuera Smock and how I care for them. In individual reviews Francesca Donovan tries the Finisterre Iris 1.2mm Yulex swimsuit and David Lintern the Durston X Dome 1+ tent. In comparative reviews Lara Dunn and Peter Macfarlane each try two pairs of gloves suitable for winter, James Roddie tests six head torches, and Lara Dunn relaxes in a couple of camping chairs.
In shorter pieces Nadia Shaikh looks for winter bird flocks, Francesca Donovan reviews a new film from the Save Windermere campaign called Origin: Finding The Source of Windermere, cancer survivor Marisa Wray talks about the mental and physical benefits of wild swimming, Jim Perrin pens a paean to Holyhead Mountain, and Juls Stodel advises a lonely camper. There's also information on The Great Outdoors Awards 2026.
Wild Walks looks at peak-to-pub winter walks. James Roddie takes a there-and-back trip from the Sligachan Hotel to Bruach na Frithe on the Cuillin Ridge, Vivienne Crow does a circular trip from the Shepherds Inn over Fiend's Fell in the North Pennines, James Forrest goes up Helm Crag from Tweedies Bar in Grasmere in the Lake District, also in the Lakes Norman Hadley traverses Ill Bell from the Mortal Man in Troutbeck, back in the North Pennines Ian Battersby ascends Scargill High Moor from The Ancient Unicorn in Bowes, a bit further south in the Yorkshire Dales Francesca Donovan makes a circuit of Middleton Fell from Barbon Inn, and down in Eryri/Snowdonia Andrew Galloway climbs Yr Wyddfa from the Cwellyn Arms in Ryhd-Ddu.
Winter having arrived in the Scottish Highlands I retrieved my Hilleberg Soulo tent from the shelf where it's been hiding since spring as I expect to be using it soon. Just in case it was missing pegs or there was a repair I'd forgotten to do I thought I'd better pitch it and check it over. And as I was doing that I thought I'd make a little video.
The Soulo doesn't get a great deal of use as it's quite heavy - if the weather looks benign I use a lighter tent - but there have been times when I've been very glad of its strength. In particular I take it when snow is forecast as I learnt early on how well it stands up to a heavy fall.
A buried Soulo. This was a test to see what happened if it was totally covered in thick snow. When I dug it out it was fine. If I'd been sleeping in it I would have cleared the doorway a few times during the night and knocked snow off the roof.
Sometimes the snow doesn't come, sometimes the winds are so strong up high that I end up camping in the forest when that's an option. Wherever, the Soulo works well.
What I like about the Soulo is it's easy to pitch even with gloves, has ample room inside (at least for someone 5 foot 8 inches/ 172 cms), and, most of all, feels secure in a storm.
Here's some more pictures of the Soulo in use over the years.
One of the big advantages of the winter months in the
Scottish Highlands is that sunset is in the middle of the afternoon not the
middle of the night. I took advantage of this late in November when the
forecast suggested clear calm weather. Just right for watching the light and
descending in the dusk.
At the start of the walk, looking towards Cairn Gorm
My plan was to climb to the Cairngorm Plateau. However I
made a mistake just before I set off. I left my snowshoes in the car. There
wasn’t much snow visible at the start of my walk so I decided I didn’t want to
carry them. Soon the snow became deeper and walking more difficult. I’d come
just far enough that I didn’t think it worth going back for them. It would have
been.
Enough people had been along the route to punch holes in the
snow but not enough to create a trench. Some of the holes were knee deep. I
stepped in and out of them. Laborious but easier than breaking my own trail.
Sometimes shallow boot prints collapsed under my weight. I lurched slowly
upwards.
Cairn Lochan
A couple passed me descending then a lone walker. This
turned out to be Dan Bailey of UKHillwalking
and we spent a pleasant few minutes discussing the snow (should have brought
snowshoes we agreed), the weather, gear, the state of outdoor publishing, and
more. Dan said he had a down jacket to test but it was too warm in the sun to try
it.
Last sun on Creag an Leth-choin
I was in the shade as I headed up and it was well below
freezing. However as soon as I reached the large flat area of the Miadan Creag
an Leth-choin the sun reached me. It certainly was too warm for a down jacket.
Indeed, I took my gloves off, unzipped the top of my Paramo jacket and sat on
my pack while I had a snack and a hot drink and admired the snow and the view.
The sun about to set over Braeriach
The very best views here are on the edge of the steep slopes
leading down into the Lairig Ghru pass so I left the boot holes that marked the
path and headed that way. My admiration for whoever had broken the first holes
soared. Plunging through the snow was incredibly arduous and the two hundred
metres or so I walked seemed endless. I wished I’d brought those snowshoes!
Sunset sky over Sgor Gaoith & Sgoran Dubh Mor
Every step was worthwhile though. The view up and down the
Lairig was magnificent. The sun was close to setting behind Braeriach and the
light made the landscape glow. Orange and red crept across the sky as the vanishing
sun lit up thin bands of cloud out to the west.
Last sun on Cairn Gorm
As the brightness faded from the mountains they suddenly
looked cold, the pink tinge on the snow turning blue. Just the summits and then
just the sky kept the warm colours.
The dusk darkens over Cairn Gorm
I set off back down, admiring the snow-plastered cliffs of
Cairn Lochan. A crescent moon appeared in the sky. It had been a good day. Even without snowshoes.
Another
night and day of snow showers and the mid-November snow looked deep enough for
the skis. It's been a few years since I could ski from the garden gate at this
time of year. The sky was overcast and dark with layers of thick clouds. A cold
NW wind blew.
View to Ben Rinnes
The snow was soft. Pushing through it the skis
didn't glide much but it was still much easier sliding than walking. Returning
home I followed my tracks and was able to enjoy the sensation of slipping effortlessly over
the snow.
View to Meall a' Bhuachaille
Distant views were hazy. Flat
light, the sky and the snow similar shades, a slight air of unreality to the
landscape. Silence except for the swishing of my skis.
Feeding ground
Whilst the snow creates a wonderland for skiers and walkers it's hard on animals and birds, especially those reliant on plants. The first day I'd been out in the snow there were just a few fox and deer tracks. Nothing moved. Today, the third day with lying snow, I saw one rabbit just briefly, before it popped back into its burrow, and two buzzards circling high above. Creatures had been active though as there were several areas where rabbits and deer had scraped away the snow in search of frozen nourishment.
Towards the Cairngorms
I looked over dark forests, much of the snow blown off the branches by the wind, to hints of the distant Cairngorms, edges of darker grey that might be mountains. Retreating from the wind blowing up strong and cold from the valley below I took shelter behind a grove of birch and aspen. Not far away was a favourite tree, an ancient battered goat willow.
The old goat willow
Out of the worst of the wind I made a little video.
I returned across the fields as the wind strengthened. Only a little trip but it felt so good to be out in the snow on skis again.
Old gateposts framing a distant Ben Rinnes
The following day a slow thaw started and the first post of the week arrived, the postie having made it up the track, though he did say only just up the steepest bit. The book was the new edition of the Scottish Mountaineering Club's Ski Mountaineering in Scotland. It looks glorious, full of mouth-watering pictures. I hope I'll be some of the easier routes in the months to come (the harder ones I couldn't have done when my skiing was at my best and certainly wouldn't attempt now - of course I am always on Nordic skis and the book is really for Alpine tourers).
The snow started falling yesterday afternoon, big wet flakes drifting down from the dark grey sky. Today I woke to a changed world, a white landscape, the first snow of the winter. Until now November has been mild rather than wintry. Snow usually arrives earlier than the middle of the month, often in October. It's late this year.
The snow was soft and deep out in the open, making walking hard work. In the trees it was just a thin layer, most of it on the branches rather than the ground. Not quite enough snow for skis but snowshoes would have made the going easier. I wasn't in a hurry anyway. I wasn't going anywhere, I was just out here to enjoy the changed landscape, admire the snowy trees, feel the bite of the wind, the wet touch of the occasional flurry of snow, experience this first taste of winter.
The sky was a mass of layered clouds in different shades. Patches of blue burst out at times, then golden touches from the low sun. In the distance the hills were hidden, draped in greyness.
The conifers - pine, larch, spruce - looked heavy and big, muscular even, their limbs enlarged by the snow. The birches however looked even more delicate than ever, the snow forming an elegant fragile tracery on their twigs.
A few snow showers swept over me, the northerly wind increased. As the light faded I headed for home and a warming mug of hot chocolate.
Fifty years ago Chris Bonington led the first expedition to climb the South West Face of Everest, a phenomenal achievement. A year later he published his account of the ascent, also a phenomenal achievement, given the time scale. I'm in awe of the skill and commitment needed on the mountain - I've done just enough low level snow and ice climbing to have at least a bit of a grasp of what's involved - and as a writer myself impressed at Bonington's ability to produce such a good book so quickly.
I first read Everest The Hard Way in 1977. I still have the copy I bought - it's pictured above - but I hadn't looked at it in many years. Back then I hadn't done any mountaineering at all and was still a fairly inexperienced backpacker. The world of Himalayan climbing seemed incredible. I marvelled at the dangers, effort, and sheer determination involved. I couldn't imagine how anyone did this.
Reading the anniversary edition of the book - a fine hardback - I'm also impressed at the complex organisation needed for the expedition to succeed, in itself a phenomenal achievement by Chris Bonington. So much planning, so many decisions, so much to keep track of, so much to co-ordinate. The section on this in the appendices is just mind-blowing! Detailed formulas for loads and rest rates, charts for movement on the mountain, and more. An incredible amount of work.
Back in 1977 I read the book as a gripping adventure story. I suspect the organisational side went over my head - I wanted to know about the actual climbing, the excitement, the danger, the camping, the near misses, the disasters. And that is still the heart of the book and thrillingly told. Now though I can admire the writing skill as well, the way Bonington tells the story, the way he weaves in excerpts from the diaries and writings of members of the team, including criticism of himself at times, and makes the book about them all.
This is a mountaineering classic about one of the most significant ascents in climbing history. I'm glad I've read it again and I certainly recommend it to anyone interested in excellent outdoor literature.
View across Strathspey to the Cairngorms from the Burma Road
Brew Dog’s ‘Lost Forest’, aka the Kinrara Estate, is no
more. Last month it was sold to Oxygen Conservation. Brew Dog’s disastrous
attempt at estate management is over. Will Oxygen Conservation be any better? That
remains to be seen. So far all it has done is put up an attractive video and
some nice pictures on its website
along with some fine-sounding words.
Nick Kempe of Parkswatch Scotland, who has done detailed
analyses of Brew Dog’s botched scheme, doesn’t have any faith in Oxygen
Conservation being much, if any, better, as he says here.
I hope he’s wrong but fear he’s right. Brew Dog started with fine words too.
What is needed is some detailed planning.
A comfortable camp in wind and rain
I go walking at Kinrara regularly as it’s not that far away
and I’ve written a number of posts about my trips, the most recent being in June,
and have looked at what Brew Dog has done to the land. My most recent trip, and
the first since Oxygen Conservation took over, was an overnight one on a wet
and windy late autumn weekend. Just a month after the new owners took over I
wasn’t expecting to see any changes.
Autumn colours along the lower Burma Road
There was still much colour in the trees along the lower
reaches of the glen as I walked up the estate track known as the Burma Road.
Higher up, as the scattered old pines grew fewer, the scene was one of boggy
heather moorland. In places I could see tiny planted pines poking up. More dominant
were the long high fences Brew Dog has erected to keep deer out of the new
trees and the many new and ugly muddy bulldozed tracks.
Not so pretty
At the crest of the road rain began. I descended towards the
River Dulnain intent on stopping at the first reasonable site for a tent I
found. This proved to be by the Allt Fionnaich (the stream of clear water).
Soon I was inside my little shelter drinking warming hot chocolate. Outside the
sky was grey, the cloud low over the hills.
A windy morning
I woke once during the night. A bright moon shone into the
tent and there were stars. It didn’t last. At dawn the sky was a sheet of
dullness. A wind rattled the tent, flicking condensation off the flysheet. I
had thought of heading over Geal-charn Mor, at 824-metres the highest hill in
the area, but the clouds wrapping the summit didn’t look attractive and the
wind would be much stronger up there so I decided on a lower hill, a minor bump
called Cnoc Beag (appropriately, it means ‘little knoll’. At 528-metres it’s
actually lower than the top of the Burma Road at 690-metres, which I crossed
twice, so that was the high point of the walk.
The old track up Cnoc Beag with the River Dulnain in the distance
The Burma Road led across the lower slopes of the hill. I
left it for an old track up the broad north-east ridge that was fading into the
heather and hadn’t seen a vehicle in a long time. To the side I could see unnatural-looking
lines of disturbed earth where trees had been planted and a long fence that
looked as though it would cut across my path just beyond where the track ended.
It did but there was a gate. Before BrewDog put up these fences – which wouldn’t
be needed if deer numbers were reduced - one of the joys of the area was the
vast open space where you could wander at will. This was especially so when
there was snow as it was superb for ski touring.
Plantings & fence
The fences didn’t appear to be keeping out the deer anyway.
I had heard stags roaring earlier. Once through the gate and on the same side
of the fence as the plantings I saw four hinds and noted many droppings and
tracks. Maybe somebody left a gate open. (I didn’t!)
A welcome gate
Not far beyond the fence I hope to pick up a path shown on
the map as running from the River Dulnain and across the steep northern slopes
of Geal-charn Mor to the high point of the Burma Road. I did find the path but
it was just an indentation in the heather and soon vanished into boggy ground.
Heavy rain started falling. The wind grew stronger. The going was slow and
rough, all tussocks and holes. Eventually I gave up trying to follow the line
of the path and took a direct route to the Burma Road. There were some streams
to ford. My feet were soaked anyway.
The faint line of the 'path' before it disappeared completely
Relieved to reach the smooth road I speeded up and soon felt
warmer. As I crossed the high point four runners came up towards me, the only
people I saw all trip. One was in shorts. Just the sight made me shiver.
Back to the view across Strathspey to the cloud-capped Cairngorms
Lower down I could again gaze across colourful bracken and
woods to dramatic clouds swirling round the Cairngorms.
I made a little video of the trip. Much shorter than I intended due to the wind and rain.
Kinrara is Oxygen Conservation’s second estate in
Strathspey. Earlier in the year it bought the Dorback Estate further to the
north-east, where there is another Geal Charn. I went for a walk
there in March. I must go back to see what, if anything, Oxygen
Conservation has done.
The December issue of TGO is out now. I've some gear reviews this month. Firstly a detailed look at the Primus Micron III stove. Then a review of the Rab Neutrino Pro 700 sleeping bag, which I tested extensively last winter, as Lucy Wallace did with the Mammut Women's Perform Down Bag -10C. Lastly there's a mats feature in which I review 3 mats as does Steph Wetherall.
Also in the gear pages James Roddie reviews six 2-person and group tents, Fiona Russell tests the Compressport Full Legs Recovery 2.0 tights, and Kirsty Pallas praises her indestructible Patagonia R1 fleece in The Long Review.
Gear also features in a big photo essay by Max Leonard and Henry Iddon based on their book Mountain Style, which is wonderful and highly recommended (disclaimer: I did write the Intro).
In other big features Hanna Lindon takes a stroll through 4 billion years of geology in the British hills and Isa Taylor discovers a network of trails in the Sierra de la Serrella not far from Alicante.
The annual Winters Skills Special returns this month with advice and tips from Glenmore Lodge.
In shorter pieces Nadia Shaikh honours the red fox, I review Nicola Hardy's Peak Bagging Munros Volume 1, conservationist Dave Sexton describes his life, Jim Perrin revisits Moelfre in the Rhinogydd, and Juls Stodel writes about modern mountain legends and stories.
In Wild Walks the writers describe favourite winter hill walks. Roger Butler goes up Gleouraich and Spidean Mialach in the West Highlands. Ian Battersby covers two walks in the North Pennines, Collier Law and Fatherley Hill and then Burnhope Hill. Vivenne Crow has a pair too, over in the Lake District - High Raise via Greenup Gill and Stybarrow Dodd. Also in the Lakes James Forrest does the Newlands Round and Norman Hadley climbs Helvellyn and Catsye Cam.
As we enter the darkest part of the year a headlamp or torch
becomes an even more important part of a walker’s equipment. ‘Even more’ because
I think one is essential at any time, though in high summer a tiny one may
suffice. But once there are more hours of dark than light then the chances of
needing artificial light grow greatly. Walks may start or, more usually in my
case, finish in the dark. On overnight trips I often make camp in the dark and
then start the day in the dark, at least as far as coffee and breakfast goes.
Choosing a headlamp or torch from the myriad available can
be difficult. I think there are a couple of heavily promoted features that
don’t help. In fact they can be misleading. These are power, measured in
lumens, and battery life. More lumens, more light! This must be good, mustn’t
it? With many headlamps the answer is no. How many lumens do you actually need.
Is lighting up the whole mountainside necessary? I think 100 to 400 lumens is
ample for hillwalking.
Power and battery life are related. Look at the battery life
for the highest lumens and it’s usually short, sometimes very short. If you
want your light to last it’s best not to use that setting, except for the
occasional brief moment when you really need to see far ahead.
Conversely some headlamps are promoted as having very long
battery life. And they do, as long as you’re happy with light that barely
illuminates the inside of a tent.
The Petzl Iko Core
With any headlamp it’s best to check the details and ignore
the headline promotion. How long should the battery last at different power
settings. How many lumens does the setting with the longest battery life
actually provide. I think anything under 20 lumens is only suitable for
close-up use such as in a tent. Under 10 lumens isn’t even adequate for that.
The light might last 100 hours but that’s not helpful if you can’t see much. At
the other end of the spectrum a light with 750 lumens of more is great for
seeing everything but if the battery only lasts an hour at this setting you’d
better not need it for long.
I think that the best setting is in the middle, which may be
boring for promotional purposes but makes sense for actual use. That’s around
100 to 300 lumens , which gives a battery life with the lights I review here of
3 to 19 hours. The difference is due to the battery capacity. Higher capacity batteries
last longer but mean heavier headlamps.
Whilst headlamps that only run on non-rechargeable batteries
are still available most now have rechargeable ones, including all those
reviewed. Some can also run on non-rechargeables, which can be useful.
Carrying a power bank to recharge headlamps makes sense on overnight
and longer trips. I also carry two headlamps. It’s much easier to swap them
over if a battery fails than change batteries or attach a charger. Also, when
camping, one can be used to light the tent while you wander off to take photographs
of the camp under the stars.
There are a myriad headlamps and torches available. Here I’m
going to review two I’ve been testing recently and take a briefer look at five
that have been my most used in recent years.
Notes: All weights are with batteries and from my digital
scales. Battery life is from the brands specifications. My usage suggests these
are roughly accurate.
If you buy from the Amazon links I receive 2-5%
commission. Clicking then finding your own items within 24 hours also helps but
with a much smaller commission. Every click helps! Thank you if you do purchase
something via one of my links.
This little torch has reminded me that handheld ones do have
some advantages over headlamps. In particular it’s easy to point the light in
any direction you want. Walking in the woods I’ve also rediscovered that a
light held at waist level gives better depth of field than one on your head. The
last is not that significant – I’ve walked with a headlamp in rough terrain
many, many times, but it is there. And of course you can always hold a headlamp
in your hand. It doesn’t have to be on your head.
The P5R is 125mm long and fits comfortably in my hand. It
weighs 100g, which is on the weighty side for a small torch. It does feel
sturdy however and is made from 75% recycled aluminium. It’s also dust and
water resistant.
It’s powered by a rechargeable battery that can be replaced
with an AA battery if necessary. The battery can be recharged in situ via a
concealed USB-C port.
The headline power output is 750 lumens. However this is a boost
mode intended for short bursts of light only. The highest other power setting
is 350 lumens and that only lasts an hour. Mid power of 100 lumens lasts 4
hours and low power of 25 lumens for 20 hours. Mid power is the one I’ve used
most.
There are just two controls, which makes it simple to use. Button
presses cycle through the power settings while a twist of the lamp housing
changes the beam from spot to flood and back. The latter is stepless so you can
have anything between the two.
I’ve enjoyed using the P5R for short local walks when I’m
not using trekking poles and I’m not going to be out in the dark for many
hours. I wouldn’t use it in place of a headlamp though or for long winter night
walks. It is quite expensive for a small torch, but it should last well.
Silva’s latest headlamp is small and light and has an
unusual design. Rather than the lamp and battery pack tilting forward together,
as on most headlamps, just the lamp tilts via hinges attached to the base of
the battery pack. This has the advantage that it doesn’t pull the headband down.
The lamp clicks onto the battery to form a complete unit. To separate them a
thin bar on the lamp has to be pushed forward. This is easy enough in the light
with warm hands but I found it awkward in the dark with cold hands and almost
impossible with gloves on.
The Seek 450 has a rechargeable battery with s USB-C port. In the 450 lumen maximum power mode it lasts 3
hours, in the medium 200 lumen mode 6 hours, and in the super-low 10 lumen mode
90 hours. The last is just about usable for reading in a tent. The medium mode
is the most useful and fine for walking in the dark and pitching a tent.
The Seek has what Silva call Intelligent Light, which means
a combined spot and flood beam. Using it is simple. A series of presses cycles
through the three modes with a longer one switching it off. There’s a red light
too, turned on with a long press when the light is off.
The Seek is lightweight at 72g. It’s made from recycled
plastic. The stretch headband is wider and more comfortable than many. It has
strips of grippy material inside that help stop it slipping and is easily
adjustable with two low-profile buckles.
I think this is a good little headlamp for most purposes. I
just wish it was easier to tilt the lamp.
My favourite headlamp for the last few years but not because
of the actual light, which is okay but nothing special, but because of the
headband, which is by far the most comfortable I’ve ever used. It’s thin and
flexible, sits on the head without needing to be too tight, and adjusts to
hoods and hats without any alteration. I think it’s brilliant! The Iko Core
also balances well as the battery is at the back. The latter is Petzl’s
rechargeable Core battery. Three AAA batteries can also be used.
The lamp unit is tiny. There are just three settings, low,
standard, and maximum. No flood or spot option, no red light, neither of which
I miss. The low mode isn’t much use as it’s just 6 lumens, though it does last
100 hours, so effectively there are just two modes. The standard one is 100
lumens, just adequate for most uses. It lasts 9 hours, which is good. The brightest
mode is 500 lumens. This lasts 2.5 hours. I wish there was a 200 lumens setting
between standard and high. Overall the battery life is okay. The Iko Core
weighs 81g.
This is the headlamp I use on trips where I expect to need a
bright light for many hours. At 250 lumens it lasts 19 hours, at 500 lumens 7
hours. This is excellent, especially as the Storm only weighs 102g. It’s also
quite compact. There are flood and spot options plus red, green, and blue
lights. Two buttons cycle through the options, one of which is a little small
for use with gloves, my only complaint about this headlamp.
The damage to my headlamp occurred when it touched a hot stove. Plastic melts. Keep it away from hot things! Luckily I pulled it away quickly and it still works fine.
Petzl’s reactive lighting adjusts the intensity and spread
of the beam depending on where you look. This works really well with the Swift
RL and means that battery life depends on how you use it. The maximum burn time
gives 10-70 hours at 18-100 lumens, the standard setting gives 25 to 275 lumens
and lasts 7 to 45 hours. I mostly use the first, switching to the second if I
need a brighter light. The most powerful setting goes from 30 to an extremely
bright 1100 lumens, with a run time of 2 to 35 hours. I’ve only used this to
see what it was like!
I really like reactive lighting. It’s great not having to use
buttons. I think I should use this headlamp more! It weighs 104g and is compact
and comfortable to wear.
This serves the opposite purpose to the Storm. It’s the
headlamp I take when I don’t expect to need one or for short periods of time. It’s
tiny and very light at 35g. It still has a maximum output of 200 lumens but
this only lasts 2 hours. At 100 lumens the battery lasts 3 hours. This is fine
for high summer when there aren’t many hours of darkness.
A lighter version of the Storm, the 71g Spot has better than
average battery life, lasting 8 hours at 200 lumens and 4 hours at the maximum
400 lumens. It has the same buttons as the Storm, and so the same difficulty
with gloves on, plus the same spot and flood modes.
I’ve also made a video about these lights.
You can find more detailed reviews by myself and others of
some of these lights plus others on the TGO website.
