A Walk And Camp On The Cairngorm Plateau In Mist, Snow, And Sun

Loch Avon

After weeks of changeable weather, the second half of April has seen day after day of fine weather. The first mountain camp of the year called and I climbed up to the Cairngorm Plateau. The sun was bright and warm but the east wind was chilly.

Snowfield crossing

There were still large snowfields and I took out my ice axe to ascend one. The snow was sugary on top but hard and icy underneath. I probably could have managed without the axe but the extra security was welcome.

Cloud camps Cairn Gorm

As I reached the Plateau I could see clouds building to the south. Ben Macdui was hidden in greyness and soon the mist settled on Cairn Gorm. Crossing Stob Coire an t-Sneachda I admired the cracked cornices hanging above its eponymous corrie.

Cornices on Stob Coire an t-Sneachda

My plan had been to descend to the Loch Avon basin and camp below the Shelter Stone, a favourite spot, where I should be out of the strongest winds. However, the start of the steep descent from Coire Domhain was banked up with snow. I couldn’t see how far this ran and thought it might be tricky going down it. There was only a breeze in the corrie too. Avoiding the snow for a high camp was appealing so I pitched the tent here.

A misty dawn

The mist soon blanketed the sky and filled the corrie. There would be no sunset. There was no sunrise either, just a gradual lightening revealing greyness all around. I wasn’t despondent though – this had been forecast and was meant to give way during the morning. And by the time I’d had breakfast and was out of the tent the sky was clearing.

Clearing skies

I set off in sunshine for the top of the steep slopes leading down to Loch Avon. This rocky rim gives spectacular views and I spent some time wandering around looking at the dark cliffs of Hell’s Lum, the Shelter Stone Crag, Carn Etchachan, and Stacan Dubha and down to deep blue Loch Avon. Great bands of snow lined the rocks. I could hear the rushing waters of the Garbh Uisge Mor and the Feith Buidhe crashing down.

Carn Etchachan & the Shelter Stone Crag

Whilst admiring the views I met mountain and wildlife guide Gary Hodgson of Tarmachan Mountaineering. Appropriately enough he was out looking for ptarmigan (a poor Anglicisation of the Gaelic tarmachan).

Feith Buidhe

Turning from the cliffs I followed the Feith Buidhe up to half-frozen Lochan Buidhe. Where free from snow the wide burn sparkled in the sunshine, rippling over golden-brown rocks and gravel.

Caution needed!

There were large deep snowfields too, often cracked and broken where they were sagging into the water. I made a large detour round one tributary to find a way across that didn’t seem likely to send me plunging through the snow into the water.

At the lochan I reached the main path to Ben Macdui trampled into the snow. I had thought of climbing the peak, now barely two kilometres away, but walking in the soft snow was hard work and the day was hot so I decided to forgo another visit to the summit.

The March Burn

I crossed the path to the headwaters of the March Burn, just before it tumbles down into the Lairig Ghru. Here it spreads out and forms a small shallow flowing lochan. Like the Feith Buidhe it was shining in the sun.

The Lairig Ghru

I left the glorious Cairngorm Plateau on the path across the west flank of Cairn Lochan to Miadan Creag an Leth-choin. Here the wind caught me, rushing up from the Lairig Ghru, fierce and cold. It then hurried me down the long ridge above Coire an Lochain.

Coire an Lochain

Huge snowfields plastered the slopes beneath the Cairn Lochan cliffs. Below the massive Great Slab I could see avalanche debris. The Slab itself was still snow-covered but cracks at the top suggested the snow would soon slide off.

Looking back to Cairn Lochan

As I descended and the wind lessened, I could see two skiers ahead of me, or rather two walkers carrying skis as there was little snow down here. I caught one of them up as she stopped to fill her water bottle at a stream crossing. She turned out to be Angela Oakley, author of a 1991 guidebook called Ski Touring In Scotland, of which I have an old well-worn copy. She and her husband had just skied Lurchers Gully on Nordic skis (her guide is about Nordic touring) and she said there was plenty of snow there. We’d met before at some ski event in the 1990s but I must admit I can’t remember this. We walked the last short distance back to the car park together and reminisced about ski touring in days gone by. A pleasant way to end a wonderful trip.

I made a little video about the trip.

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.

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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.

 

 

 

 

A Look At The May Issue Of The Great Outdoors

The May issue of TGO has a big feature on gear for wild camping. My contributions are reviews of four stoves - Fire Maple Petrel Titanium Ultralight, GSI Pinnacle Four Season, Alpkit MyTiBurner, & Robens Fire Wisp Solo Cook Set UL -, the Gregory Baltoro 65 pack, and the Alpkit Radiant sleeping mat. Another mat is reviewed by David Lintern - the Highlander Nap Pak Arctic.

Also in this section Fiona Russell and David Lintern review six two-person tents from Fjern, Big Agnes, Wechsel, Highlander, MSR, & Hilleberg with a first look at the updated Nemo OSMO Dragonfly.  Six three-season sleeping bags from Mont, Therm-A-Rest, Gruezi, Alpkit, Robens, & Big Agnes are tested by Steph Wetherell, David Lintern and Peter Macfarlane.

Four reviewers - Steph Wetherell, David Lintern, Peter Macfarlane and Juls Stodel - pick their favourite mini items of camping gear which range from a lantern and freeze-dried meals to tent pegs and a pump for inflating mats. There's also a first look at the Sigg Gemstone Food Jar and Steph Wetherell reviews the Charmast C2065 Power Bank.

Away from gear Hanna Lindon looks at ways to approach the National Three Peaks Challenge 100 years after it was first done, Louise Kenward explores the relationships disabled people can have with the outdoors, Minreet Kaur has a first wild camp in the Cairngorms, and Bella Falk goes on a Maasai-guided trek through Kenya's Loita Hills.

In shorter pieces Nadia Shaikh peers into pools for short crabs, Jon Moses of the Right to Roam campaign discusses the CRoW Act at 25, Jim Perrin looks at Ben Nevis for his Mountain Portrait, Vivienne Crow introduces the new Roof of England long-distance trail, and Juls Stodel considers where to go to be a hermit. The Skills section looks at new outdoor activities to try.

The theme of Wild Walks this month is big mountain challenges. Simon Stokes tackles the Cairngorms 4000s, James Forrest the Lakeland 3000s, Norman Hadley the Lakeland 800s, Richard Hartfield the Howgills 2000s, and Nike Werstroh the Surrey Three Peaks. Away from walks with numbers Ian Battersby undertakes the Durham Dales Challenge and Chiz Dakin the Nine Edges Challenge in the Peak District.

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!

A Local Walk & Camp In Stormy Weather

Camp in the forest

With a big storm approaching and unsettled weather already here venturing into the high mountains didn’t seem a good idea so I decided on an overnight trip in my local moorland hills. There were places I’d still never visited despite living here for over thirty years. This seemed a good time to go and see them.

The field of young pines with the Cromdale Hills in the background

For once I set off from the front gate and into the local woods. I soon left the dense forest, a mixed plantation of Scots pine, larch, and Sitka spruce that was thinned a few years ago (to make it more suitable for capercaillie the estate said) and passed by a fenced area full of young pines. When we first moved here this was a boggy field used for grazing sheep. That stopped many years ago and young trees started to appear, seeded from the nearby pine plantation. Since then the estate has planted some more pines and erected a stock fence, though this seems unnecessary as plenty of trees have sprung up outside it. Still, it’s good to see a new forest growing.

The Cairngorms

Beyond the trees I headed up onto rough heather moorland. The clouds cleared and the distant shining white Cairngorms appeared under a deep blue sky. The sun was warm and I thought about removing my hat. Dark clouds on the horizon suggested this might be unwise however. It would have been as soon sleet and then snow was driving in on a gusty wind. Instead of removing my hat I was struggling into waterproofs.

The weather changes

The storm continued as I climbed through a rugged area of small crags and ravines dotted with self-seeded trees and onto higher moors where there was no protection from the wind and the wet snow.

Wintry!

I was aiming for a little loch called the Black Loch at the head of one of the burns running down into Glen Tulchan. It looked an interesting situation, tucked into a very narrow little steep-sided glen just below a broad moorland ridge.

The Black Loch

The skies cleared and the sun shone again as I had my first sight of the loch. I’d thought I might camp by it but as soon as I looked down I knew that just reaching it would be difficult enough as steep heather-clad slopes dotted with little crags ran right down to the water. A careful traversing descent took me down to the foot of the lochan and the start of the winding defile of the Black Loch Burn.

The Black Loch Burn glen after a snow flurry

The floor of the glen was a boggy mass of reeds, tussocks and heather with the burn winding through it. The ground oozed. There was no path, the walking was tough, and camping here out of the question. It’s a lovely hidden little glen though and I enjoyed my rather stumbling walk along it. The weather changed again, another burst of snow arriving, but the sky was clear by the time I reached the estate track running down Glen Tulchan and the walking became easier.

The land was still boggy and tussocky until I reached some Caledonian pinewoods. Here I found a dry site in an area of dead bracken. The clouds were racing overhead but it was calm here. The pine forest was lovely but I spent the evening in the tent as there were more snow and sleet showers.

View from the tent at dawn

Dawn came with sunshine and a frost. There was frozen condensation on the tent walls. I lingered over breakfast, reluctant to leave this tranquil spot. And also reluctant to don my cold wet socks and boots, sodden from the bogs of the Black Loch Burn the day before. As always once on they didn’t feel too bad. The anticipation was worse than the reality.

One of the fords

There was a stream to ford just beyond camp and then another two further down the glen. I just splashed through. I was not going to have dry feet today. More old pinewoods made the glen pleasant and a little wild.

Ben Rinnes

As the land grew tamer and the first fences and cultivated fields appeared I left the glen on an estate track that took me back up onto the moors with views over the trees to snow-topped Ben Rinnes.

Across the next glen I could see an extensive cross-hatching pattern on the hillside. I'd never seen anything like this before and couldn't work out what it was for. Back home research showed it's called narrow strip matrix or maze cutting and is done to provide more edges to the heather as part of management to boost grouse numbers for shooting. I'd seen burnt patches and shooting butts on the moors here as grouse shooting is a major land use but nothing like this.* 

Glenmore Loch

As clouds began to build again I descended to little Glenmore Loch, a pleasant artificial pool where I saw mallard ducks and a heron, and then up onto the slopes of Tom Mor, on top of which is the mast that provides my wi-fi. The mast was visible but there was no signal here.

Looking back to Glenmore Loch as the clouds roll in and sleet begins to fall

Now on familiar ground I hurried down the track to the road home. Distant hills were disappearing into the mist and light rain and sleet was falling. The world turned grey. I could have done without the last hour’s walking. I’d visited some local country I hadn’t seen before, had a restful camp, and a good walk though. It had been a low key but pleasant trip and the weather suggested I’d have had a much rougher and less enjoyable time if I’d gone to the higher mountains.

*The Tulchan Estate, which owns and manages this land, was recently reported as being up for sale for £67 million. However indefatigable land campaigner Andy Wightman explains on his Land Matters blog that there's some sleight of hand going on with the sale of 100% of the shares so that various taxes need not be paid. It seems the estate is both for sale and not for sale at the same time.