A Terry Abraham video of me in the Lake District

A Conversation With Feargus Cooney

 

A few months ago I was interviewed by Feargus Cooney for this YouTube channel. We discussed getting into wilderness travel in the 1970’s, safety concerns, what the word and the idea of ‘wilderness’ actually means, rewilding, native forests, outdoor influencers and safety and various other subjects. 

Autumn Backpacking in Glen Affric

Mists, clouds, colours

Glen Affric in autumn is glorious. Actually, Glen Affric is always glorious, but it’s especially so in autumn due to the colours of the trees and grasses. Mists often drift round the peaks and the sun is lower than in summer, giving wonderful side lighting.

View along Glen Affric at the start

This year my autumn visit was a three-night trip in the company of Tony Hobbs and his dog Bella. Starting late one afternoon we walked along the Affric Kintail Way for a few kilometres until we found a grassy spot to camp just as it grew dark. The sky was overcast but the colours of the birches were deep and rich.

Tony in the undergrowth

The sky was still cloudy at dawn but there were hints of blue and bursts of sunshine as we started up the steep narrow overgrown path beside the rushing waters of the Allt Garbh. At times the dense undergrowth of bracken, heather and saplings gave the ascent a jungle-like feel.

Out in the open

The sky began to clear as we climbed out of the trees and the views opened up. The light was lovely. It didn’t last though and the sky was overcast again as we turned into the upper glen. Our intended hill for the day, Aonach Shasuinn, was shrouded in dark cloud and the steep climb into the clag didn’t look appealing. Staying in the light seemed more attractive so we continued up the glen, hoping to find somewhere to camp at its head.

Bursts of sunshine

We didn’t get that far. The path became an estate track, the estate track disintegrated into a boggy mess. Somewhere I tweaked a calf muscle and was limping painfully so when Tony pointed to a large flat grassy area down by the river and thought we should camp there I didn’t disagree and we were soon pitching our tents.

Relaxing in camp

There was no wind and it wasn’t very cold so we sat outside watching the clouds and the hills and listening to stags roaring on the hillsides, the sound of autumn. The night was chilly though, the temperature falling to just below freezing, as it had the night before.

Red sky in the morning

Dawn came with a fiery sky but by the time we were packing up it was overcast again, the tops hidden. Rather than continue up to the head of the glen we decided to make a rising traverse to the low point on the ridge that lay above our camp. The way up was rough, steep, and boggy, and not good for my sore calf so I was glad when we reached the top. It was enough climbing for me for the day.

Bella & Tony on the tough ascent

A cold breeze swept the ridge so we dropped down a little way searching for somewhere calm and not too boggy to sit for a while, eventually settling on a lovely, dry, gently sloping, striped rock. The view out over Glen Affric to the big hills on the far side was spectacular even though the clouds remained down on the tops. 

We recorded a little video chat while we were there.

Not far from our rock we picked up a steep path that led down into Glen Affric. This path was ingeniously designed, zigzagging across the slope, and curving round little cliffs, to take the sting out of what could be a challenging descent. I love paths like this! They feel almost a natural part of the landscape, fitting into its shape and contours. They’re hard to see from any distance and leave as little mark as it’s possible for a path to do.

Tony on the path down

My delight in the path distracted me from my sore calf and as we descended further distraction came from the skies clearing to cast a wonderful light over the mountains, the glen, and the lochs. It was magnificent.  

Clearing skies, glowing landscape

The lower section of the path was muddy and slippery and I had to concentrate or my feet rather than the views. Even so without my trekking poles I’d have been on my backside a few times. Once we reached the wide track of the Affric Kintail Way the tough walking was over and we could admire the autumn colours.

Glen Affric from the lower part of the descent

We had hoped to camp soon after reaching the glen but found nowhere suitable until we were back where we’d been two nights before. It was a good site so we were happy to stay here again.

Last morning

Overnight the weather changed, a change we knew was forecast. I was woken in the dark by rain rattling on the tent. It was still coming down at dawn. The pressure had fallen 18mb since the previous morning. The temperature had been 1°C at 1.30 a.m. An hour later it was 4°, by dawn 7°.  A rapid change.

Packing up in the rain

We packed up and walked back to the car in the rain. The colours of the woods were still wonderful, the clouds wreathing the summits mysterious. We hadn’t climbed the hills we had intended but that wasn’t the real reason we were there. Immersing ourselves in nature and experiencing the beauty of Glen Affric in autumn was what mattered and we had done that.

Video and pictures of the Mountain Laurel Designs DuoMid XL Pyramid Tent

 

A little video on the MLD DuoMid XL. Here's some pictures of the tent in use.

A Look At The November Issue Of The Great Outdoors

The November issue of TGO sees the start of a new gear spot in conjunction with Nikwax in which reviewers describe their long-term gear favourites and how they care for them to ensure they last. I begin the series with some favourite boots, Brasher Hillmasters, now over twelve years old and still going strong.

Also in the gear pages David Lintern reviews the Jottnar Asger HS fleece and Steph Wetherell reviews the Osprey Tempest 33 Extended Fit Pack. In comparative reviews Pete Macfarlane reviews four stoves, Kirsty Pallas and Alex Roddie review three midlayers each, and Steph Wetherell and James Roddie three pairs of three-season gloves each.

The opening spread is a wonderful photo by Lizzie Shepherd of twisted birch trees in autumn in Inshriach in the Cairngorms.

In the main features Norman Hadley tells an astonishing tale of a navigational error on the Cairngorm Plateau in winter. Five artists, writers and musicians talk about the ways they take inspiration from the outdoors. Phoebe Smith climbs Mt.Kinabalu on Borneo and learns about its place in the culture of the indigenous Dusan people. 

This issue is 2025's TGO Challenge one and there are stories of this years event from many participants.

In the skills section Alex Roddie sharpens up his map and compass skills on an Austrian Alpine Club - organised course in Eryri.

In the regular columns Nadia Shaikh describes hoar frost in On The Lookout; Stew Hume reviews And So I Run by Jamie Doward; Sunny Huang, who recently completed her second round of all 1124 UK hills on the Scottish Mountaineering Club register, describes her extraordinary life; Jim Perrin covers the Fiacaill Couloir, a winter climb in the Cairngorms, as his Mountain Portrait; and Juls Stobel gives advice on how to get teenagers into hillwalking in Uphill Struggles.

Wild Walks covers short trails and sections of longer trails that can be walked in a day or less. in Scotland Stefan Durkacz walks the Dava Way from Grantown-on-Spey to Forres. Vivienne Crow walks the Great Whin Sill in Northumberland, where the Pennine Way and Hadrian's Wall Path unite. In the North York Moors Ian Battersby walks Cringle Moor and Round Hill on the Cleveland Way. Over in the Lake District James Forrest goes from Rosthwaite to Grasmere on the Coast to Coast path while in Wales Andrew Galloway goes from Llanfairfechan to Conwy on the North Wales Path. Further south in Herefordshire Roger Butler climbs Bradnor Hill and Herrock Hill on the Offa's Dyke Path. Finally way down in Sussex Alex Roddie visits Cuckmere Haven and Seven Sisters on the South Downs Way.

Video on my trip to the north side of Meall a'Bhuachaille

 

Video of the trip described in my last post with an emphasis on the camping.

Tough Terrain On The North Side Of Meall a' Bhuachaille

Camp in the pines, Meall a' Bhuachaille in the distance

Meall a’Bhuachaille is a familiar hill that I climb several times a year. It’s ideal for a half-day walk. It’s great for taking up visitors who don’t have enough time for a full day out. It’s excellent when the higher Cairngorms look unpleasantly stormy. The views from the summit are excellent. The walk-in past An Lochain Uaine through the woods of Ryvoan Pass is lovely.

However although it is a familiar hill there’s a side I didn’t know, a side I’d never even visited, the north side facing Abernethy Forest. I’ve seen this from afar, looked across it from the track from Ryvoan Pass to Nethy Bridge. Long brown heathery slopes split by burns. Moderately steep in places. Not much sign of trees. Untracked. Like many other hillsides in fact. Not exciting, nothing outstanding. But what was it actually like to be there, to walk there? Places are always more individual, more interesting when you set foot on them.

An Lochan Uaine

So on a late September day I finally decided it was time to go and have a look. The forecast was for showers and a gusty wind with maybe some sunshine, which sounded fine for a walk that didn’t go very high, though I thought I might finish on Meall a’ Buachaille itself. Walking through Ryvoan Pass the air was warm and humid, my jacket soon in the pack. An Lochan Uaine was blue, white, and green, reflecting sky, clouds and trees. The water was still low despite some recent rain.

Lochan a' Chait

Leaving the thicker forest I soon caught the wind, though it wasn’t very cold. The clouds began to clear. At Lochan a’Chait reeds were bending in the breeze. Across the water the tops at the end of Cairn Gorm’s north ridge, Mam Suim and Stac na h-Iolaire, and beyond them higher Bynack More glowed in the afternoon sun.

A squall in the distance

I’d spotted a faint path on the map that led north-east  from the main track in the direction I wanted to go, at least at first. This turned out to be a narrow trod, easily missed, leading through deep vegetation. A sign warned that there were cattle here, brought in by the RSPB, whose land this is, to help break up the ground and trample the heather so more varied vegetation can grow.

Stone walls & Bynack More

I followed the old path past the low stone walls of a former shieling to more stone walls on a low rise amongst big old larch trees. There had been several buildings here at one time. Cattle were grazing nearby. A touch of rain fell. I could see squalls in the distance and twice short bits of rainbows. The evening light was glorious.

A touch of rainbow

Beyond the old settlement the path became indistinct and hard to follow and the walking was much harder as I waded through thick deep heather and bunches of tall reeds. I headed towards the Allt Mullach, the stream that ran down from the col between Meall a’Bhuachaille and Creagan Gorm, hoping to camp at the point where the slopes started to steepen. The terrain did not look promising though, very rough with big tussocks and dense vegetation. Walking became even harder. Progress slowed.

Another touch of rainbow 

An old rough ATV track appeared and made the going easier for a while. I reached the Allt Mullach. There was nowhere for a half-decent camp. Going up meant steeper ground so I followed the burn down to a small rise with a scattering of old pines. The four hundred metres or so took me half an hour. There were young trees amongst the big ones. This grove is renewing itself.

It took a while wandering amongst the pines before I found a small mossy spot that looked just big enough. In wetter times it would probably be too boggy for a camp but it would do for this night. I pitched the tent just as the light faded.

Relaxing in camp

The wind dropped and the clouds cleared. The temperature fell to zero. There was dew on the flysheet and condensation inside at dawn. The sun soon warmed the tent and I moved outside to sit in the bright light and enjoy the quiet of the trees over a mug of coffee. I’d slept well and this was a peaceful relaxing spot. Beyond the pines I could mist in Strathspey. It looked grey and damp down there. 

Mist in Strathspey

Moving on was not relaxing though. It was tough and arduous. I headed back beside the little stream and up the slopes towards the col. In places remnants of old ATV tracks eased the walking but mostly it was a thrash through deep heather and reeds with tussocks and deep holes everywhere. Some of the vegetation was chest deep. At one point the tips of reeds were pricking my chin. I could rarely see where I was putting my feet. Terrain doesn’t come much tougher than this.

The clouds begin to close in over Meall a' Bhuachaille

There were a few old birches on the hillside and rather more tiny saplings just poking through the heather. Now grazing pressure has been removed the forest is slowly returning.

A grizzled old birch

The early morning sun soon faded as thick grey clouds moved in from the west. At the col the wind was strong. I wouldn’t go up Meall a’ Bhuachaille. Instead I followed the path down to Glenmore, relishing the sudden ease of walking. I’d experienced the north side of Meall a’ Bhuachaille closely and enjoyed solitude in an area few people go despite its nearness to popular places. It had been a good trip.

Overcast sky above the col