Testing Backpacking Stoves

Testing backpacking gear usually means taking it out into its environment - the outdoors. However with some products it's worthwhile also using them together in a more controlled situation. Yesterday I spent several hours doing this with camping stoves for an upcoming feature in Spring issue of The Great Outdoors magazine (I must remember to call it now that it's changed back from TGO). Although it was a sunny day I chose a shaded spot as I didn't want the warmth of the sunshine to affect the test. As it was, the shade temperature was just 7 C. The water, from my kitchen tap, was 6 C.

Testing the stoves involves finding out how easy it is to set them up with cold fingers, how quickly they boil a set amount of water and how much fuel they use in doing so. I also tried a few stoves with pots with and without heat exchangers to see how difference this made, if any. I'm now writing up the results.

After the Storm, A Quiet Day: Cairngorms In Winter

 

Terry filming beside Loch Morlich

Following the excitement and effort of the stormy days when we failed to cross the Lairig Ghru (see last post) I had a much more relaxed day’s filming with Terry Abraham beside Loch Morlich. The clouds were still racing past high above and the highest tops were mostly hidden but down in the forest there was no more than a chill breeze. High up conditions were still severe though with signs announcing that the Cairngorm ski resort was closed again while snow ploughs tried to clear the access road.

Loch Morlich shimmering in the sun

Down at the loch sunshine came and went, though any heat was whipped away by the wind and the temperature remained below freezing. Oystercatchers flew low over the water piping loudly then ran along the golden sandy beach that curves round the head of the loch. There were pied wagtails too and mallard ducks out on the water. Across the loch the snow-covered hills of Meall a’Bhuachaille and Creagan Mor shone in the bright light.

Creagan Mor and Meall a'Bhuachaille

The wind was too noisy to record my voice out in the open so we retreated into the shelter of the pines with a view over the Allt Mor, the main feeder for the loch and here a slow, placid and dark stream very different from the raging mountain torrent it is for most of its length. Dippers bobbed on the branches of fallen trees out in the water. Under the trees the air was very cold and I was glad to finish the recording and finish and head off for a warming mug of hot chocolate in the nearby Glenmore Café from whose windows we watched chaffinches and coal tits and, just once, a crested tit feeding on the many peanut-covered tables. There were no red squirrels on show though, unlike the last time we had been here.

A welcome refuge

Warmed and refreshed we ended our quiet day at the far end of the loch filming the Cairngorms rising above the woods and water. 

Terry filming at the end of the day

Retreat from the Lairig Ghru: Cairngorms In Winter

 

Terry beside the Allt Druidh

The big storm came in hard and fast, with the winds increasing earlier than forecast. I went out anyway as I’d arranged to meet Terry Abraham for more work on the Cairngorms in Winter film and he was already in the hills. However the Sugar Bowl car park on the Cairngorm Ski Road, where I’d planned on starting, was blocked with snow – I nearly got stuck on the edge of the road turning the car round – so I ended up walking in from much lower down and farther away. Terry would have to wait a while.

Walking through Rothiemurchus Forest I admired the pines, which down here were shining in the sunlight. I couldn’t feel the wind but I could see white clouds racing across the sky. There was only a thin covering of snow at first but as I climbed towards the mouth of the Lairig Ghru pass, where I was to meet Terry, the snow grew deeper and I stopped to put on my snowshoes. Even wearing these I was occasionally sinking in knee deep as the fresh snow was dry and unconsolidated.

Snowshoe tracks

As the trees thinned out the wind hit me, cold and sharp. Ahead I could see dark clouds filling the big defile of the Lairig Ghru though to either side the hills were still in sunshine. This is often the case here, the high narrow pass acting as a funnel for winds and clouds. 

The Lairig Ghru

By the time I joined Terry the wind was even stronger. Clouds of spindrift were hurled into the air, whirling and swirling in spinning columns or racing across the ground in shimmering sheets. We headed on towards the stormbound Lairig Ghru, though my confidence in reaching it was rapidly dwindling. On the snowshoes I made good progress through the thick snow and was soon beside the half-frozen Allt Druidh stream right in the jaws of the pass. Terry had no snowshoes though and was finding the going slow and arduous.

Terry filming beside the Allt Druidh

A quick discussion and we decided retreat was a sensible option. The wind was now bitterly cold and the lashing spindrift painful. There was still over two hundred metres of ascent to the top of the pass. The wind would be stronger there and the snow deeper. We’d be in the cloud too. And the storm was forecast to grow in strength the next day.

Spindrift

With relief we turned our backs to the wind and descended to the shelter of the trees. Our upward tracks had already disappeared in the blown snow. Terry did short bits of filming, made difficult by the wind and the spindrift, which kept covering his lens even when the camera was pointed away from the growing storm.

Once down in the trees we found a good campsite on grassy ground in a grove of magnificent and massive ancient pines. Situated in a shallow wooded bowl it seemed sheltered. When we pitched the tents there was only the occasional gust of wind though we could it roaring high above.

A sheltered site?

Late in the evening though the wind began to increase, buffeting the tent. As the night went on so the wind grew stronger, blasting down in great gusts that shook the tent. I could hear the roaring as the wind approached before each wave hit. Light snow began to fall too; cold, dry snow that was picked up by the wind and blown through the tent’s mesh vents and under the edge of the flysheet. Soon most of my gear was covered in white. I dozed and slept fitfully, repeatedly woken by the noise of the wind.

Terry sheltering from the wind and spindrift

Come dawn and it was as windy in camp as it had been in the mouth of the Lairig Ghru. I ventured out to see the rear of Terry’s tent flattening in each gust then springing back up. The wind was still growing in power, one gust sending me staggering sideways.

Back in my tent I was packing my gear when a really ferocious blast hit the tent. Three pegs ripped out of the ground on one side and the fabric tried to take off. As it did so the pole bent. Before the whole tent collapsed on me I managed to replace one of the pegs and adjust the pole. I was very glad this had not happened in the night or before I was dressed and up.

In this storm we were not venturing back up into the hills. Instead we walked out to Loch Morlich and a welcome second breakfast in the Glenmore Café. The trip was over a day early. But that’s winter in the Cairngorms. Sometimes it’s just not wise to continue.

The Cairngorms in Winter - filming continues

Terry on the Cairngorm Plateau

Today may be the official first day of spring but in the Cairngorms winter continues unabated. Indeed, conditions at present are some of the most severe so far with blizzards raging and very cold temperatures. The Cairngorm Mountain ski resort has been closed due to storms the last few days. Despite the conditions I'm heading out for more filming with Terry Abraham though I don't think we'll be sitting round in the sunshine as in the picture above, taken back in February. In fact I doubt we'll get onto the summits at all, not with winds of 80-90mph forecast. We are planning on going through the Lairig Ghru, the finest pass in the Cairngorms and one of the very best in all the Highlands. The Lairig Ghru is spectacular at any time, in stormy weather it's really dramatic. The high point of the pass is at 800 metres and the snow can lie deep there. Tomorrow we'll see if we can cross it.

Far Distant Hills

A few days ago I was surprised to receive an email from hillwalker and photographer Bryan James, who I had not had any contact with before, with one of my images attached. The picture was taken from this blog post and annotated with the names of distant hills that Bryan had identified. I didn't know these hills were visible in the picture and I'm delighted that Bryan has taken the trouble to locate them. I hadn't realised such detail was visible. I should maybe look at my photographs more closely!

The hills of the far North-West picked out by Bryan are a favourite area of his, as can be seen from his Flickr album, which features quite a few photos taken in the area, including a lovely shot of Arkle at sunset.


Photo info: For those interested the image was taken from the northern edge of the Cairngorm Plateau on November 7th, 2011, at 17.30 with a Sony NEX 5 camera and Sony E 18-55 lens at 55mm, handheld with manual exposure. Settings were 1/40@f5.6 and ISO 400. The online image Bryan used to identify the distant hills is a 320kb JPEG converted in Lightroom from a 13.93mb raw file.

Out of Doors Interview Online

The interview about Walking the Scottish Watershed that I did for BBC Radio Scotland's Out of Doors programme is now online. It's available for the next six days. I haven't listened to it myself so I can't tell you where in the broadcast it appears!

Next week I'll be on the programme again, talking about the Cairngorms National Park along with others on its 10th anniversary.

The Cairngorms At Dusk

The hills have been mostly hidden in the clouds for many days now. Here in the glen rain has been falling, rain with touches of sleet and snow in it. Higher up it must be snowing. Next week I shall go and see. Until then here's a photograph of Bynack More and Beinn Mheadhoin taken just after sunset in February.