Autumn Storms in the Cairngorms on a four-night trip

Approaching Bod an Deamhain 

We should have been in Torridon. At least, that was the plan. A forecast of stormy weather had us deciding to shift the trip a few days forwards. The forecast shifted with us. Maybe Torridon wasn’t a good idea. The forecast looked a little less stormy in the Cairngorms. Also, there we had options for more sheltered routes than in Torridon, with more trees, more long glens. The Cairngorms it would be.

This was Tony Hobb’s annual autumn trip to the Highlands. Stormy weather was not unusual on these ventures though the previous year we’d had fairly benign conditions in Glen Affric. Two years before that however Storm Agnes caught us in the Eastern Cairngorms.

By the time we were setting off on this trip the forecast looked stormier in the Cairngorms. We weren’t going to escape it. Summits and plateaux seemed unwise. I planned a glens and passes route that would give us two nights out of the four in forests.

First camp, Glen Feshie

The walk down Glen Feshie was uneventful. It was early October and the autumn colours were just beginning. The glen was lovely and peaceful. We found a good site deep in the woods and had a pleasant first camp.

Glen Feshie

The next day we continued up the glen as the sky grew darker and the wind began to strengthen. The first spots of rain fell as we left the last trees. Jacket hoods went up and down as showers came and went. Autumn colours glowed. The twin waterfalls on the River Eidart, one wide, one thin, looked superb.

Eidart Bridge & Falls

Then it was onto the shallow watershed between the River Feshie and the Geldie Burn. This is bleak wide-open moorland with no shelter. The rain was hammering down now, stinging bare skin. Hoods stayed up. The strong gusty wind was hitting us from the side. We were thankful not to be walking into it. I felt tired but plodded on. There was nowhere for a comfortable camp.

Colour in the storm

A brief break in the clouds gave a brilliant rainbow, the only colour for several hours. The Geldie began to gently descend with slopes closing in on either side. We found a good, fairly sheltered site right by the burn. Exhausted I was soon out of wet clothes and into my sleeping bag. During the night I woke with a streaming nose and a headache. A cold! Damn! That explained my weariness.

Early morning at camp by the River Geldie

Dawn came with golden light and a feeling of warmth. The land glowed. The sun shone. Briefly. Within an hour the clouds had thickened and the glorious brightness had faded. 

Sunrise, River Geldie

We debated what to do. Crossing the high Lairig Ghru pass was still the shortest way back to the start so we decided to take the most direct route there rather than the longer one we’d originally planned. Commitments meant we hadn’t a spare day for me to sit out my cold here, something I would have done otherwise. I did not feel like walking far, or even at all.

In Glen Dee

Instead, we had a relatively short day and walked to the River Dee and then followed it into the mouth of the Lairig Ghru. The clouds raced overhead and swirled round the mountains. There were showers but no prolonged rain. The landscape became more dramatic as the mountains closed in, the great crags and slabs of Bod an Deamhain (the Devil’s Point) dominating the view. Tony found a couple of patches of grass Just big enough for the tents amongst the bogs, heather and tussocks. They made comfortable sites.

Camp in Glen Dee

Still feeling rough the next day I was slow to get ready and we had a late start. I was slow plodding up the path to the Lairig Ghru too. We passed the dark Pools of Dee in their stark boulder fields and reached the 835-metre summit of the pass just before dusk. The wind was gusty but not too strong and any showers were brief. We had, we thought, done the hardest part of the day. Now we just had to follow the path slowly down into the forest and find a sheltered camp site.

Braeriach from Glen Dee

We were wrong. The wind was ferocious, blasting down, funnelled through the narrow gap of the pass. Without trekking pole we’d have been knocked over, often. At times all we could do was brace ourselves with the poles and try and keep our feet until a gust eased. We were walking by headlamp with Tony’s dog Bella, who had no problem finding the path, leading the way. The terrain here is rocky. Being blown over was not a good idea. Caution and slowness were the only safe way to proceed.

Beside one of the Pools of Dee

Eventually we came out of the narrow gap and onto a better path. The wind was now merely fierce. It continued so down into the forest and we went further than we’d hoped before camping on a site we’d used before where the wind was a little less powerful. We were in fact only a few kilometres from the road. But there was no point going on. We needed to sleep before driving. It had been an exciting trip, a memorable trip, one to talk about in future. But I was glad it was over.

Ten Years Ago: Yosemite Valley to Death Valley

On September 26, 2016, I was on the fourth day of a walk from Yosemite Valley to Death Valley. This spectacular trip is one of my favourites. I crossed the magnificent High Sierra, climbed Mount Whitney, then crossed Owens Valley to the Inyo and Panamint Mountains where I climbed Telescope Peak before descending to Death Valley itself.

The first part of the trip was very hot and sunny. The pictures here are from the first four days.

I wrote a feature for The Great Outdoors about the trip. You can read it here.

And for those interested I also write a piece about the gear I used which you can find here. 

Tent Pegs I Like & Dislike (with reasons)

Tent pegs ordered as I'd choose them from one I wouldn't use on the left to my favourite on the right.

Tent pegs are essential items you should be able to take for granted. Simple, functional, not particularly interesting. However, I’ve been irritated recently at how many of them are barely adequate, if that.

Tent pegs only have one purpose, to secure a tent or tarp so it doesn’t fall down or blow away. That shouldn’t be difficult. And for many years it wasn’t. Pegs for backpacking and mountaineering tents were mostly of two sorts – pin or skewers pegs with shepherd’s crook heads and U or V-shaped pegs with bent over tops. Made of aluminium both sorts were lightweight and suitable for all but the softest ground if long enough. Attaching guylines and pegging points securely was easy. Using them was easy.

These pegs are still around and better and cheaper than most modern styles. For example, Vango Pin Pegs have shepherd's crook tops. They are 18cm long, weigh 12g each, and cost £4.99 for ten from Ultralight Outdoor Gear (all prices in this article are from Ultralight Outdoor Gear and are current for mid-August 2026). Such pegs are plain and dull – as tent pegs should be! You can spend £20-£50 or more for ten modern pegs that look much fancier, most of which aren’t as good as the Pin Pegs, though they usually weigh a little less. I’m much more concerned that a peg will hold my tent up than that I’m saving 6g. 

The Pin Pegs are tubular aluminium like my old ones. There are much thinner titanium shepherd's crook pegs - you can see three on the left of the picture at the top. The longer ones are okay in hard ground though I wouldn't use them for anything other than the corners of a tent or for a groundsheet inside a tarp. Being titanium they are very light - 6-9g.

Too many of the latest pegs are too short and have notched tops that guylines and pegging points can easily slip off. I’ve tested six backpacking tents in the last year and only one had adequate pegs, and that was by far the least expensive one. The others were all too short and had tiny notches for attaching pegging points. They are brightly coloured though with the brand name embossed on the side.  

One set did have bigger notches at the head that did hold guylines better, until they broke or bent that is. Because the notches were deeper only a narrow section of the peg was left between them so when pressure was applied, the head tore and bent.  Four failed like this on a winter camp on stony ground high in the Cairngorms. It could have been awkward, but I always carry extra pegs, so I replaced them with shepherd’s crook ones.

One of the pegs that broke and the replacement I was glad I had.

Another problem with many modern pegs is that the heads can be quite hard and sharp, so they hurt or even cut your hands when you apply pressure to them. I’ve seen suggestions for using a plastic bottle cap or a thimble to put over the peg, so it doesn’t hurt your hand. This isn’t necessary with old-style pegs!

The short length (under 16cms) of many of these pegs means that they don’t hold well except in very hard ground. The wind tugging on guylines can pull them out.

It’s annoying that too many expensive backpacking tents come with these pegs, so you need to replace them or at least add better pegs for the main pegging points and guylines. This should not be necessary.

 

My favourite peg on the right. Two of the short, tiny notch Y-pegs that come with many modern tents.

The pegs I find best of all are long tubular ones. These hold well in all types of ground from soft to rock hard and the ones I've used are very tough. There are several brands. Mine are Easton. They’re 22cm long and weigh 15g each. I’ve been using them for many years and they’ve never failed, though I have bent one. It’s still usable.  Current ones are a bit longer at 23cm and a bit lighter at 13g. They are expensive though. £6.49 each for an Easton Nano one.  

As Easton pegs have apparently been discontinued if I was replacing them it would be with the 20cm Big Sky International Tube Steak 20 which weigh 14g per peg and cost £16.99 for a pack of four.

I don’t carry enough tubular pegs for every pegging point and guyline. That’s unnecessary. I carry enough for key stress points and shorter, lighter pegs for everywhere else.

I’ve also made a YouTube video about pegs.

From the Archives: a wild camp and a mountain 21 years ago and the gear I used

The camp in Coire an Iubhair

In response to the photo at the start of my recent post  about stove systems I was asked by Chris Sainty about the boots I was wearing. As I had no idea, the picture being 21 years old, and many boots having been tested since then, I searched through my files and discovered I'd written a trip report and gear review for this January 2005 trip for The Great Outdoors. So in case anyone is interested here it is.

The boots that attracted attention

Apart from the first ever Jetboil stove, which is why the photo appeared on the stove systems piece, I think the most interesting gear I was testing was a trekking pole tent from Mountain Equipment. There are many tents like that on the market now. 

                                                               Garbh Bheinn of Ardgour

Trip Kit Report 

Garbh Bheinn

Garbh Bheinn of Ardgour is one of the great neglected Highland hills. Many will have looked west to its dramatic dark ragged pyramid from Glencoe and Ballachulish but far fewer take the Corran ferry across Loch Linnhe and set foot on its rough slopes, even though it’s one of the finest hills in the West Highlands. The reason is simple. Garbh Bheinn misses Munro status by just 30 metres; enough to explain why it’s disregarded by most hillwalkers.

I last headed to Garbh Bheinn early last year. As often on short deep winter trips with brief daylight hours I planned on setting up a wild camp below the hill one afternoon, climbing the peak the next day then walking out that evening.

The forecast was for cloudy weather with temperatures around zero at night in the glens and perhaps a little snow high up with light to moderate winds. The weather had been cold for several days and I knew there was snow and ice high up. As always I had test gear with me – pack, tent, sleeping bag, stove, boots, soft shell jacket, down jacket, waterproof jacket, gloves, headlamp - chosen because it seemed suited to the likely conditions. My gear was also selected with long winter nights in mind, when I like to have enough warm clothing that I don’t have to lie cocooned in my sleeping bag all the time plus a gas or candle lantern for a little warmth and to light up the tent porch.

Misty on the ascent

My camp was in Coire an Iubhair, a fine curving corrie between steep mountain slopes. From here I climbed up the steep rocky side of the long ridge of Sron a’ Gharbh Choire Bhig and then to the summit of Garbh Bheinn. It was a very rough ascent. Low down the ground was frozen in places though soft in others and there were patches of ice. Above 450 metres everything was frozen with increasing snow cover as I climbed. Mostly this snow was quite thin but there were some deep drifts and I went thigh deep into one. In places the snow was packed hard by the wind and I had to kick steps. Otherwise thin ice glazing on rocks, frozen icy turf, burns frozen into slippery bobbles of ice and skims of snow hiding sheets of ice meant constant care was needed. Slipping was easy; staying upright a little harder. There were many small crags and big boulders that might make interesting scrambles in summer. Alone on a cold January day they seemed best avoided so I wound a way up shallow gullies and between the rocky outcrops into the cloud swirling round the summit. The SW wind was cold and the temperature on top -1C. I had intended descending the north ridge to the head of Coire an Iubhair but this is steeper and rockier than the ascent route so, given the mist and the ice, I decided it was prudent to return the same way.

Pack

The pack

Although I was only out for one night and so didn’t have much food, winter clothing, a warm sleeping bag and ice axe and crampons pushed the weight up to 20 kilos. The load was quite bulky too but it all went easily into an Osprey Crescent 70 pack. This was the first time I had used this model and before I had the hipbelt customised, a worthwhile option with Crescent packs. The pack easily held all the gear and was comfortable during the walk-in along a rough rocky path. It also worked well as a daysack on the climb of Garbh Bheinn. The straps linking the scalloped panels on the front can be pulled right across the pack and connected to buckles on the sides so the pack can be closed down around a small load, preventing it from shifting about and keeping it stable. The harness is far too substantial for a daysack but it did make for a very comfortable carry. The weight of 3 kilos is ridiculous for a day sack too but acceptable for winter backpacking.

Tent

In camp

The Mountain Equipment Helium AR tent isn’t designed for winter camping but as it was just for one night and there was no forecast for strong winds or heavy snow and I wanted to try this new model I took it with me. There was no more than a gentle breeze in the corrie and I was able to sit with the door open and the stove outside without getting too cold, only closing the tent up when I went to sleep. The wind strengthened early in the night and the flysheet rattled a fair bit, though this didn’t stop me sleeping. The temperature fell to zero overnight, the breeze dropped and there was a little condensation on the inside of the flysheet come dawn but not enough to cause problems. I wouldn’t recommend the Helium AR for winter – it’s not big or stable enough and the porches aren’t roomy enough – except for one nighters like this in good weather but it was nice to have a tent that only weighed 1.35kg and that packed small and was easy to pitch with trekking poles.

Sleeping Bag & Mat

Camp’s Arctic 600 down sleeping bag has a comfort rating of -5 to -11 so I wasn’t surprised to be perfectly warm in it at zero degrees with the bag fully zipped up and my head inside the snug hood. At 1350 grams it’s a reasonable weight for a winter bag. My sleep mat was only just warm enough however and I could feel the cold through it if I put much pressure anywhere. It was an Insulmat Maxlite; a full length shaped mat weighing 595 grams with a cored foam inner. Outside of winter it’s fine but I won’t use it when the ground is likely to be frozen again unless I carry a closed cell foam pad as well (which I often do in winter).

Kitchen

Wanting to see how it performed in the cold I used a Jetboil stove with a part-used Coleman cartridge. It was slower than in warm weather but still boiled half litres of water within six minutes and performed better than most gas stoves would at zero degrees, due, I think, to the built-in heat exchanger and the pot cosy. The cosy made the pot comfortable to hold too and helped keep the contents warm. I also had a foil windscreen, insulated plastic mug, 2 spoons (by accident, I thought I’d only packed one – still, I doubt the few grams extra weight made much difference), Swedish FireSteel, two 2.5 litre Platypus water bottles and a half litre Zojirushi Tuffslim Compact vacuum flask weighing 325 grams (yes, I know I could have carried the stove up the hill but I find it easier to use a flask, especially in bad weather when I don’t want to stop and boil water).

Lighting

Another winter luxury was a gas lantern, a little Primus model weighing 200 grams that I’ve had for years. It gives out a bit of warmth and a soft, friendly light for reading, studying the map and journal writing. If I was buying a lantern today I’d go for the 124 gram Primus Micron, which has a steel mesh globe instead of a fragile glass one like my current model. I also carried a 105 gram Princeton Tec Eos headlamp, which has three brightness settings. The lowest one proved fine for pitching the tent in the dark. 

Boots, Socks & Gaiters

Knowing I might need to use crampons I wore fairly stiff Aku Utah Lite leather boots. These were fine on the steep rocky ground and excellent for kicking steps up snow slopes. They were a little stiff for walking on more level terrain but overall are a good boot for the winter hills if no technical climbing is involved. They have a Gore-Tex lining but the temperatures were cold enough that my feet didn’t feel hot. I wouldn’t wear boots this heavy (1786 grams for a size 9) in warm weather anyway. My socks were Smartwool Hikers made from merino wool, which kept my feet warm and comfortable. To keep mud and snow out of the boots I had Mountain Hardwear Ventigaiters, which I like because they have ventilation zips. I never wore these however and only got a little snow in my boots.

Clothing

On the summit

My base layer was a Smartwool merino wool Lightweight Zip-T, which was warm and comfortable and only became slightly damp where it was in contact with the pack. I also carried Smartwool Lightweight Bottoms but I never wore these. My trousers were Paramo Cascadas, which were breathable, windproof and warm. I find Paramo trousers so comfortable that they are my main legwear on the hills between October and May, which means I don’t need to carry overtrousers. 

During the initial climb I only wore the Zip-T on my top half, with the neck zip undone, and I unzipped the side zips on the trousers, as there was no wind and the terrain was steep enough that I was soon getting quite hot. However once I reached the ridge of Sron a’ Gharbh Choire Bhig I met the south-west wind and instantly felt cold so I put on a Mountain Equipment G2 Guide jacket, made from Gore N2S/Windstopper soft shell fabric, Outdoor Designs Bora gloves made from Polartec Wind Pro, which were excellent, and my old trusty Lowe Alpine Mountain Cap in fleece lined Triplepoint Ceramic. This outfit kept me warm to the summit. The G2 Guide jacket was a bit damp inside by the time I reached the top – subsequent trips have shown that it’s not breathable enough for me in temperatures much above freezing despite the underarm zips and venting chest pockets. The G2 Guide weighs a hefty 715 grams and is quite bulky to pack. It’s not that warm when stationary either so on the windswept summit I donned a 380 gram PHD Minimus down jacket over it while I had a hot drink and a snack and took some photographs. The Minimus was lovely and toasty, especially with the hood pulled up over the Mountain Cap and the G2 Guide hood. If the forecast had been for rain I’d have taken a synthetic filled garment but as wetness seemed unlikely I preferred the greater warmth and lower weight and bulk of down.

The one garment I didn’t wear was a Mountain Equipment Matrix Gore-Tex XCR/Paclite jacket, taken in case of rain or wet snow. Because I had the G2 Guide I didn’t feel I needed a heavier jacket as I was sure that the Guide combined with the Matrix would have coped with the worst weather. However I would rather have had something more breathable, lighter in weight and a touch warmer than the G2 Guide.

In winter I always carry spare hats and gloves so as well as the Mountain Cap I had an Outdoor Designs Windiush hat made from Polartec Wind Pro fleece, which I like because the fleece is wind resistant and it has ear flaps and a neck cord and which I wore in camp, a stretchy Buff, a pair of Mountain Equipment Guide gloves, which are wind and waterproof and have fleece linings, and a pair of polypro liner gloves.

Ice Axe and Crampons

My ice axe was a Grivel Air Tech Racing axe, which is very light at 450 grams in the 66cm length I use, yet which has a steel head. I used this for most of the ascent and descent, where it helped me stay upright when I slipped, though there were few places where a slide would have taken me more than a few metres. I never put on the Grivel G10 crampons I was carrying as there wasn’t quite enough ice, though I did consider it occasionally and was glad I had them with me.

Odds and Sods

A pair of Brasher Countrymaster trekking poles (now called Mono-Cork) were useful for the walking in and out of the corrie and essential for holding the tent up. Because I knew I would be climbing Garbh Bheinn without tent or sleeping bag I carried a Rab Survival Zone bivvy bag and a Terra Nova Bothy 2 in case I needed emergency shelter. I had a map and compass of course (OS 1:50,000 Sheet 40 and Silva 7NL) plus a Suunto Altimax altimeter watch. To measure temperature and wind speed I carried a Silva ADC Pro weather data instrument.

Photo note: my camera was a Canon EOS 300D with 18-55mm lens, my first DSLR. It was only 6 megapixels but the images look fine processed in current software (Lightroom & DXO PhotoLab). Due to the weather conditions I didn't take many pictures. Also, I wasn't yet used to digital cameras and still thought in film terms of not wasting shots that probably wouldn't be any good. I wish I'd taken more pictures!

 

 

       

 

A Look At Stove Systems For Backpacking And Long-Distance Hiking

Using the original Jetboil in 2005

A lightweight backpacking stove system arrived for testing a few days ago, the third such new stove system this year, which set me thinking about the rise of these stove and pot combinations and why they are popular.

A stove or cooking system is basically just a pot and stove that come as a package. They’re not new. The methylated spirits/alcohol burning Trangia stove system dates back to 1951.

The original Jetboil in 2004

These days though stove system usually refers to a burner that runs on butane/propane gas canisters and a pot with a heat exchanger that fits on top of it. This system was first launched by Jetboil back in 2004 and was revolutionary as it increased boil times and reduced fuel usage. This was a significant development. Everything else I’m writing about derives from it.

The Jetboil Flash 1.0L, 2025

I had one of the original Jetboil stoves and used it on short trips but found it too heavy for multi-day ones despite the fuel efficiency. The first Jetboil became the Jetboil Flash five years later. I had one of those too. Further versions appeared, culminating in the Flash 1.0L just last year. This has a number of improvements but the same basic design. I reviewed it for The Great Outdoors magazine.

Note: I am an Amazon Associate. If you buy from the Amazon links I receive a commission at no cost to you. Every click helps! Thank you if you do purchase something or click on one of my links. StoreID: christownse0c-21

The first Jetboil had a tall narrow pot that locked onto the burner, a cosy round the pot, and a Piezo igniter This became the template for this type of stove system and there are many similar designs.  The pots are usually around a litre in capacity, and the units are designed for boiling water rather than cooking.

The MSR Reactor in use in 2013

MSR came out with a variation on the design in 2007 called the Reactor. This has the same tower-like look as the Jetboil but has a radiant burner that glows rather than producing flames, no Piezo igniter, and no cosy. It’s very powerful, wind proof, and designed for melting snow. I’ve used it frequently for winter camping.

The Primus Lite, 2013

Venerable stove maker Primus (founded in 1892!) joined the stove system makers in 2013 with the first of the Lite series, the latest of which is the one that’s just arrived.

MSR Windburner with its original name, 2014

A year after the first Primus Lite MSR brought out the Windburner (originally called the Windboiler), a radiant burner stove system designed for more general usage. Like the Reactor and unlike the Jetboil Flash it has a regulated burner and performs better in the cold.

Melting snow on the Jetboil MiniMo in 2016

Also in 2014 the MiniMo was launched, the first Jetboil stove with a regulated burner. It also has a shorter, wider pot, which I much prefer for cooking and eating from, and quickly became my favourite stove system, though still a bit heavy for long trips at 378g.

The Jetboil Stash in 2021

Finally, just five years ago, Jetboil launched a stove system, the Stash, that I think at 200g is light enough to use on long-distance walks. It’s not a system like the Flash or similar ones. It’s really just a heat exchanger pot and a stove that are sold together. The pot doesn’t lock onto the burner and can be used with other stoves, and the stove can be used with other pots without need of any accessories. You can’t buy them separately though, which is shame as the burner isn’t regulated. I’ve used the Stash pot regularly with other stoves that are regulated, including on the Cape Wrath Trail, but I don’t recommend buying it just for the pot due to the high cost. I reviewed the Stash pot and stove for The Great Outdoors here.

Fire Maple Petrel G3 pot & Soto Windmaster Triflec stove in 2024

The Stash was a breakthrough in terms of system stoves for long-distance hiking. I’d previously thought of stove systems as good for short trips and for winter but not for longer trips. The Stash made me consider heat exchanger pots for every trip. However the only ones I knew about were quite heavy. The first lightweight ones were appearing though and I discovered a couple from Fire Maple. I started using these, putting together my own stove system, and was impressed. I wouldn’t be going back to ordinary pots. I wrote this piece about heat exchanger pots a couple of years ago.

The three Petrel pots, from the left: 800ml, G2, G3

At the time I wrote that piece only the first of Fire Maple’s Petrel pots with slots in the base for stove arms had appeared. This design improves stability and brings the burner closer to the pot for better wind resistance. There are two more Petrel pots now, both of which I posted about last year – here and here.  The wide Petrel Ramen 800ml pot is my favourite and a good alternative to the Stash pot. With stoves like the SotoWindmaster and MSR Pocket Rocket Deluxe and a Fire Maple Petrel pot you can have an excellent stove system suitable for year-round use, including snow melting.

This brings me to this year’s new stoves. The first to arrive was the Fire Maple Star X1 Pro. This has the now-standard tower design. It’s very powerful but weighs 555g. I made this little video about it.

Next came the Jetboil TrailCook 1.2L, which is basically an update of the MiniMo incorporating some of the improvements first seen on the Flash 1.0L and a ceramic pot. I gave my first impressions here and described my first use of it in this video.

For solo backpacking and long-distance hiking, the third new stove is the most interesting. The Primus Lite Ultra has the same burner as earlier Lite models but a much lighter pot that looks similar to the Fire Maple PetrelG3. At 238g without accessories like the canister stabiliser it’s in the same weight range as a Fire Maple Petrel pot plus stove or the Jetboil Stash. I made this little video about it but haven’t yet used it. It’ll go on my next trip.

I should mention the unusual MSR Switch Stove System, which came out two years ago. This looks like a heat exchanger pot and burner but isn’t. Instead, the pot has a rounded base with a cage around it that fits on the burner. I reviewed it here and found that the pot does speed up boiling over a standard pot but isn’t as fast or fuel efficient as a heat exchanger pot. 

MSR Switch, 2024

After the original Jetboil the most significant developments have been the Jetboil Stash and the Fire Maple Petrel G3 pot. Without them I would still be thinking of stove systems as suitable only for short trips or winter camping.

 

 

 

 

Fifty years ago I was on the Pennine Way, my first long-distance walk

Below Rakes Rocks. My first camp on the Pennine Way, April 7

On April 7^th, 1976, I set out on my first long-distance walk, a journey that was to set the pattern for the rest of my life. In the previous few years I had done plenty of day walks in the hills and a few one or two night backpacking trips. Now I wanted to find out what a longer trip felt like and whether I could complete one. I chose the Pennine Way, England’s first official long-distance path, which had opened eleven years earlier, probably because it was well-known, and also because it’s 270 miles/435 kilometres seemed the right length for a two-week trip. Stretching from the Peak District National Park up the chain of the Pennine hills and into the Cheviots before finishing just across the border in Scotland it promised a variety of landscapes and interesting walking, much of it in places I’d never been before.

My journal

I had no idea if I could do the walk or if I would enjoy it. On the train to Edale at the southern end of the trail I started my journal of the trip: “The doubts. Is the pack too heavy? Can I do it in 15 days? Am I healthy enough? Most important can I mentally cope?”. Only the answer to the first one was negative. Yes, the pack was too heavy. But otherwise the trip was a huge success. At the finish I wrote “this is definitely the way to live! I expect I’ll do it again and lots of different other walks – what a future. This is not really the end, this is just the beginning”. And what a future it has been!

I’d enjoyed the walk despite the generally wet and misty weather. My journal again: “Biggest disappointment I think was the fact that all the land traversed above 2,000 feet was in thick mist and I had no distant views at all. I think the atmosphere of being so close to nature for days on end matters as much as views”.

The guidebook I carried the whole way

Fifty years ago the world was very different of course. This was long before mobile phones or the internet. Away from roads and villages there was no means of communicating with the outside world. When you were alone in the hills you really were alone. Calling for help or advice was not an option. Navigation required careful use of map and compass. There were Pennine Way guidebooks though and I carried Wainwright’s Pennine Way Companion the whole way, poring over it eagerly in the tent every night and writing notes in the log section.

Log pages 

My one regret now is that I didn’t take photography seriously back then. I just carried a simple point-and-shoot Instamatic compact camera which produced small square photos. Due to the weather I didn’t take many pictures and most are blurred or out of focus, due, I think, to the poor quality of the camera, and my lack of ability. I have no pictures of myself on the walk.

High Force, April 15. The wet weather meant the waterfalls along the way were all splendid. The wet weather and poor light was also a bit much for my camera!

I don’t know what the pack weighed but looking at my equipment list I can see why it was too heavy. Apart from coated waterproofs (non-breathable back then) my clothing was all cotton – string vest, t-shirt, cord jeans, windproof jacket – and wool – thin sweater, thick sweater, shirt, trousers, socks, gloves, balaclava – but why did I take so much of it? I don’t know but I did note at the end that I only needed to wear one pair of socks at a time (two was standard) and that I should find something lighter than corduroy jeans for warmer weather. Of course a clothing revolution was coming in fast and the next few years would see the arrival of breathable waterproofs and synthetic replacements for cotton and wool that were lighter and more compact. But overall my clothing and equipment worked fine. I never got very cold or very wet and the camping went well.

Camp at Top Withens, April 9

I have one item of equipment left from that trip, the Trangia stove. It still works too and goes on the occasional outing. The tent – a Saunders Backpacker II – was excellent. Long after the walk and after a fair bit more usage the coating cracked and began to flake off and the nylon flysheet became brittle. But it was as good as there was then. The down sleeping bag was wonderful too. I’d borrowed it as the only one I had was a thin summer one that I knew wasn’t warm enough for April. Having to return it at the end was a blow!

My pack was my pride and joy, an American Camp Trails external frame model that cost what seemed like a fortune and which was very comfortable. However, I wasn’t so impressed with it when I had to sit on a damp hillside repairing the hipbelt which had torn off. But otherwise it carried the load well.

I resupplied with food along the way and seem from my notes to have eaten a great deal of malt loaf, cheese, and chocolate biscuits. I had muesli for breakfast and packet soups and dehydrated meals in the evening. A few of the latter were Springlow specialist camping meals, which you could get in outdoor shops. From memory they were horrible! Not having thought about them for decades I did an online search but all that turned up was an antiques site offering a “Vintage 1950's Unopened Tin of Springlow Cabbage with original contents”! The logo is the one I remember though. Mostly I dined on Batchelors Savoury Rice in different flavours, which was all that stores along the way had that was suitable.  

Fifty years on that Pennine Way walk is a distant happy memory. I can just about recognise the young man who set out on that adventure. I can see how he became the person I am now. I am so glad I did that walk.

Here’s my gear list as written in my notebook – in several different places for some reason!

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.