A breezy, sunny day in early March. The sun warm, shaded areas cool, the wind chilly out in the open. The distant mountains shining with fresh snow, their summits in and out fast-moving clouds.
The first buds are just appearing on birches, rowans and willows, only noticeable from close up. The grasses are still mostly faded yellow but again a close look reveals tiny spurts of fresh green in a few places.
I wandered through meadows of sheep and down into some sheltered woods. Here amongst some ancient pines I found an old log for a seat and stopped to relax and enjoy the quiet beauty of the forest and the warmth of the sun.
I'd brought a new stove unit with me to try out - the Fire Maple Star X1 Pro - and I set this up to boil water for a mug of coffee. I made a little video of this.
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One afternoon a few days ago I headed up into the Cairngorms
in the hope of seeing the sunset. The day was sunny and quite warm for the last
day of February but the forecast was for cloud coming in from the south-west on
strong winds. I hoped this wouldn’t arrive too soon but at just the right time for
the setting sun to colour the clouds red and gold.
My favourite times in the mountains are dawn and dusk. However,
as I’m a night person who wakes up slowly as the day progresses I see far more
of the latter than the former, especially on day walks. To see the dawn I need
to be already there, camped high up. An early start from home and then walking
in the dark doesn’t work for me.
Blue sky on the ascent
On this walk I also hoped the change in the weather would
bring more complex and variable light. Brilliant sunshine and a blue sky are
wonderful and I do love them but changing light is more interesting. It makes
for better photographs too.
Clouds approaching.
Blue sky and sunshine accompanied me up to the north ridge
of Cairn Gorm. The breeze was light and I didn’t need hat or gloves. That
changed when I reached the ridge and met a much stronger cold south-west wind
that was bringing clouds.
Clouds getting closer.
Summits not too far away were already vanishing into
greyness. To the east though the hills were still in sunshine. The lighting was
already dramatic.
Stac na h-Iolaire
Heading down the north ridge I had the wind at my back. There
were large areas of hard snow but I was able to skirt round these, as I had on
the ascent, and my crampons and ice axe stayed on the pack. Ahead the crag of
Stac na h-Iolaire glowed gold in the now low sun.
Suddenly in the mist
Seemingly out of nowhere mist enveloped me and snow and hail
began to fall. Visibility went from hundreds of kilometres to a few hundred
metres. The temperature dropped noticeably. The squall was brief. After ten
minutes or so it had passed over and was just a grey cloud heading north. A
useful reminder of how fast the weather can change though and the need to
always be prepared for that.
Lochan na Beinne & Loch Morlich
The aftermath of the squall revealed a thin drifting band of
mist between the shining waters of Lochan na Beinne and Loch Morlich. The mist
caught the low sun, shimmering in the light. Above the sky was now mostly
overcast.
Sunset
Descending there was one brief glimpse of colour in the sky
before the clouds thickened and all was grey. The weather had changed.
The trickiest part of the walk was the final stretch. The
path was muddy and in places icy. It was growing dark rapidly. I managed without
a headlamp until a final steep descent to a bridge over a rushing burn on a
narrow path with patches of snow and ice. Then the day was over. There’d been
no spectacular sunset but there had been interesting light and just getting up
into the mountains and forgetting about the rest of the world, especially at the
moment, felt such a relief.
I'd just finished a comparative stove review for The Great Outdoors magazine (to appear soon) when another stove arrived, this one the Fire Maple Star X1 Pro Cooking System.* This follows the familiar pattern of a heat exchanger pot that fits on top of a canister stove. There are a few interesting features on this version of the design though. Note that this is just a first look. I haven't used the stove yet.
The litre-size pot is made of aluminium and has a rubbery lid that fits well but not too tightly. The best feature is the long stainless steel handle which locks firmly into place and folds over the lid when the unit is packed. This is excellent and far better than the webbing loops found on some similar stove systems which I always find a little uncomfortable and insecure. The handle has insulating material over it so it shouldn't get too hot.
The pot has a stretchy cosy, two stretchy cosies in fact, one plain black, one with red markings that I really like. With cosy and lid the pot weighs 276 grams.
Similar stoves often come with plastic bowls that fit under the heat exchanger. I don't find these very useful as they easily get dirty from the heat exchanger and are vulnerable to cracking. The Star X1 Pro doesn't have one of these. Instead it has a Tritan plastic bowl that fits inside the pot. It weighs 61 grams. I'll probably leave it at home.
The burner unit is substantial with thick plastic supports and a raised metal surround that should help keep off wind. There's a Piezo igniter and a small control knob.
The pot fits on top of the stove via two slots that slip over little nodules on the inside of the metal surround. The pot can then be twisted to secure it in position. Once this is done it feels very stable.
The burner, bowl, and a 100 gram canister can be packed inside the pot. A 230 gram canister will fit but if you put the burner in as well it protrudes above the top so you can't close the lid. The burner weighs 188 grams.
The complete unit weighs 525 grams on my scales, which is 30 grams less than Fire Maple's figure. Leave the bowl behind and that comes down to 464 grams. This weight is typical for this type of cooking system.
I'll take the unit on my next camping trip and see how it does. Fire Maple says it can boil 500ml of water in 1 minute 42 seconds using 4.5g of fuel. That's a very fast boil time and very low fuel usage. I'll be interested to see what it does in my tests.
The cost is £39.26, which is very low.
I made a little video about the stove.
*I am an Amazon Associate so if you buy from the Amazon links I receive a commission at no cost to you. Clicking
then finding your own items within 24 hours also helps but with a much
smaller commission. Every click helps! Thank you if you do purchase
something or click on one of my links.
Sometimes it only takes a fierce blast of wind to change
plans. A few minutes being blown around in the high level car park was enough
to persuade us that starting lower down and staying there was a good idea. So
it was back in the cars and down to the shelter of the forest.
The forecast being for the high winds and low clouds to
continue we thought we’d probably stay low down and abandon ideas of reaching
the snow and using the skis, snowshoes, ice axes and crampons we’d brought.
This was Tony Hobbs’ annual winter visit to the Cairngorms in the hope of using
his snow gear and learning some skills. And as has become usual it wasn’t going
to happen. This is the problem with having to plan in advance. The week before
or a few days later and we’d have had better conditions. I can be flexible. I
live here. Tony can’t. He travels up from the deep south (Bristol) and has to
make arrangements well in advance.
The windy first camp
That first day we walked out of the forest to camp near the
river Nethy. The wind buffeted the tents and I was glad we were no higher. We
decided that unless the wind lessened we’d stay low and follow the Nethy into
Abernethy Forest the next day and look for a more sheltered site.
River Nethy
The wind was still strong in the morning. The hills were
still in cloud. We headed off towards the forest through a mix of heather and
grass tussocks. There was no path and the going was tough. At times we were
knee deep in the vegetation. Progress was slow, just a kilometre an hour. Soon the river ran into a gorge, forcing us to
climb, a little away from the water.
Tough walking
Here the trees are spreading out from the dense heart of
Abernethy Forest, owners RSPB having long ago removed the sheep that grazed
here and reduced deer numbers. As the trees thickened so did the ground
vegetation and walking became even harder. The regenerating forest was
marvellous and inspiring though.
The Nethy in the forest
Once we were in the old forest we rejoined the river. There
were dry channels where it had flowed and many trees in the water where it had
undercut the banks. The Nethy is very mobile.
We were aiming for the end of a vehicle track. On reaching
it progress became a little easier. Long abandoned, it was overgrown but less
tussocky than surrounding terrain. The river was again below us running through
another gorge.
Eventually the track started to descend to a side stream.
Here many trees had blown down and we had to clamber over these to reach boggy
open ground near the burn where we hoped to camp. A little searching and we
found a spot that was reasonably dry, reasonable flat and very sheltered.
Dawn on the first morning at the second camp
The site proved more comfortable than the first one and we
decided to stay here for two nights. Light snow fell overnight and dawn came
with a dusting on the ground and ice in the water bottles.
I decided to go back up the track and have a look at the
gorge the Nethy ran through. The track was set back from the edge and we hadn’t
really seen it the other day. Tony headed off the other way to see what the walk
out would be like the next day.
I stuffed various items into the roomy kangaroo pocket of my
Paramo smock and set off. As I hadn’t worn or needed my gaiters the day before
I left them in the tent. That was a mistake which I only found out when I’d
gone far enough that I wasn’t going to return for them. The ascent up the track
was fairly dry but once I reached the flat upper section I was pushing through vegetation
wet with thawing snow. My legs were soon sodden from the knees down. My boots
and socks quickly became the same. I had dry socks back in camp and I reckoned
my feet wouldn’t get cold as long as I kept moving.
The lochan in the forest
Leaving the track I wandered through the woods to a lovely
little partly frozen lochan. Here I paused a while, relishing the peace and
beauty of this hidden gem, one of those surprises that can be found away from
well-known places and popular paths.
A view down to the Nethy
When I reached the edge of the ravine I found it quite hard
to see into as the forest on the slopes was thick and luxuriant. Only in a few
spots could I see the river far below. It looks impressive. Maybe I’ll come
back and walk into it from downstream one day.
Tony well-wrapped up
Back in camp we sat outside for hot drinks and snacks. It
was cold, just a few degrees above freezing, but calm. Watching the clouds
racing across the sky high above made us glad we’d changed our plans. Down here
it was peaceful and relaxing.
Night
During the evening the skies cleared and I was back out of
the tent looking at the glorious stars. The constellation Orion was dominant, low
in the sky between shadowed pines. Magnificent!
Snowing at dawn
The clearance didn’t last. I woke once in the night to look
out and see snow drifting down. At dawn the snow was heavier. By the time we
were taking the tents down it had stopped and there were hints of sunshine.
Blowdowns!
Tony had told me that the first half kilometre or so along
the old track had even more blowdowns that the section we’d descended. He was
right and progress was very slow as we clambered over the fallen trees or
circumvented them in the forest along their edges. Zigzagging from side to side
we probably covered at least three times the straight-line distance.
Approaching Ryvoan Bothy
The hard walking ended when we reached the main track
through the forest. Now we had an easy stroll back out of the trees past Ryvoan
Bothy, and then back into the trees through Ryvoan Pass. It had been a good
trip.
The Corbetts is the latest volume in the superb
Scottish Mountaineering Club Hillwalkers’ Guides series. Like the earlier books
The Corbetts is beautifully designed and illustrated. According to the
publishers it’s the third edition of a guide first published in 1990 as The
Corbetts & Other Scottish Hills but in fact it’s so different that it’s
really a new book. Everything is new – route descriptions, illustrations, maps.
The format is bigger too, even though the ‘other’ hills have gone.
The Corbetts are Scottish hills between 2500 feet (762m) and
3000 feet (914.4m) high with a reascent of at least 500 feet (152m) on all sides.
Although lower than Munros many are no easier and some are amongst the finest
hills in Scotland. That 500+ feet of reascent means that linking Corbetts is hard
work. Many are best climbed singly. They cover a wider area than the Munros
too, with Corbetts in the Southern Uplands where there are no Munros and on six
rather than two islands. These are hills deserving of respect.
They deserve a book like this too. The 1990 volume is good –
my copy is well-thumbed. This glorious new guide is much better. Credit must go
to the author Rab Anderson who also did the layout and took many of the
photographs and to the publishers, the Scottish Mountaineering Press.
The Introduction has a brief biography of John Rooke Corbett,
who first compiled this list of hills in 1939, followed by notes on the route descriptions,
safety, and other useful information.
The hills are organised into twenty geographical sections, each
starting with a lovely double-page photo (I especially like the dramatic one for
section 14 of Beinn Airigh Charr across Loch Maree) and then a map of the area
with the Corbetts marked. There are maps for each hill or group of hills too.
The maps are in colour and show the routes and the topography. They are lovely
to look at but I must admit I find the simpler non-topographical maps of the
original guide easier for actually locating the Corbetts.
The hill descriptions are excellent and have advice and
information as well as the bare bones of the routes. Each one is accompanied by
one or more photographs, most of them superb. This is a book you can browse
just for the photographs. They certainly lured me in, reminding of many
Corbetts I haven’t visited for many years and inspiring me to go and climb them
again.
This is a book for all lovers of the Scottish Hills. You don’t
have to be a Corbett bagger to enjoy it. You might be after flicking through
its pages though!
The Corbetts is published by the Scottish Mountaineering Press and costs £35.
In this issue of TGO I write about the Hilleberg Akto tent which I used on my continuous round of the Munros and Tops thirty years ago this year. The tent is still fine and I look at how I've kept it in good condition.
In reviews I look at the Grubs Bearline 8.5 boots which I've been wearing a great deal in the snow this year. Also in individual reviews Fiona Russell reviews the Snowline Spikes, Francesca Donovan tests the Heimplanet Kirra 2 tent, and David Lintern tries the Hestra Ergo Grip Active Wool Terry gloves. In comparative reviews Lara Dunn and Peter Macfarlane test three pairs of hiking socks each and Gemma Palmer tries four camping meals.
The Reader Awards feature in this issue with the best pubs, cafes, campsites, retailers, books, inspiring people and more.
In the main features a series of walks with a feelgood factor are chosen by conservationists, access campaigners, and hillwalkers; Steph Wetherall investigates the important work of Scotland's Peatland ACTION Programme; Alex Roddie walks the Toubkal Circuit in Morocco; and Ishtayaq Rasool returns to Tulail on the edge of Kashmir where winter lasts half the year.
In the opening Almanac pages Nadia Shaikh looks at the ancient courtship ritual of Great Crested Grebes; Kev Mitchell of Scottish Mountain Rescue reviews A Heavy Affair with the Mountains by David 'Heavy' Whalley; land rights campaigner Tara Wight gives her perspective on land reform in Scotland; Jim Perrin goes to Chrome and Parkhouse Hills in Derbyshire for his Mountain Portrait; and Julia Clarke describes Trail of the Month St Cuthbert's Way in the Scottish Borders.
The Skills section looks at walking for mental health. In Uphill Struggles Juls Stodel gives advice on what to do when anticipation keeps you awake the night before a walk.
Wild Walks asks writers for their favourite routes on which to watch sunset and sunrise. James Roddie chooses Fuar Tholl and Sgorr Ruadh in the NW Highlands. In the Lake District James Forrest picks Dale Head from Buttermere, Vivienne Crow Glaramara and Allen Crags, and Norman Hadley Great Gable. Whitestone Cliff and Gormire Lake in the North York Moors are chosen by Ian Battersby. In Eryri/Snowdonia Roger Butler goes for Cwm Tryfan and the Glyderau, and Andrew Galloway Bwlch Mawr from Clynnog Fawr.
Late January and stormy weather followed a thaw of the deep
snow that fell in the first half of the month. High up the snow continued but in
the glens there was rain. Not wanting to battle a storm high up I decided on a
quiet forest venture for my first camp of the year. Enjoying the peace of the woods
was preferable to struggling through snow and mist on the tops.
As I set off the Cairngorms were hidden in cloud but the
lower summit of Meall a’ Bhuchaille was a bright white cone rising above the woods,
the greyness just brushing the summit. Light drizzle drifted down, enough to
dampen my clothing slightly but not enough for waterproofs.
There was no snow left in the forest but Lochan Deo was
still partly frozen. In places it had flooded its banks. On my last visit, in
September last year, much of it had been dry (see this
post – scroll down for a picture). The contrast was startling.
Rivers and streams were full too. The Am Beanaidh was
roaring down under the Cambridge Club Footbridge. In September I could have
easily forded it. Like this I wouldn’t consider it.
I camped on a pleasant site by some magnificent old pines. I’d
used the spot several times before, most memorably in 2013 when making the Cairngorms
in Winter video with Terry Abraham. On that occasion a big winter storm had
forced a retreat from the Lairig Ghru. We’d camped here as it was initially
quite sheltered. The storm followed us down though and we had a wild night, ending
with my tent almost collapsing at dawn. (See this
post for the full story).
This time the storm stayed high above. I could see the
clouds tearing across the sky but down here there was no more than a light
breeze and I had a peaceful night. Light rain fell, so light that I couldn’t
hear it on the flysheet.
At dawn there were patches of blue sky and as I started to
walk back out of the forest the sun shone briefly, turning the trees warm and
glowing. This didn’t last and soon the sky was overcast with light rain falling
again.
Reaching Loch an Eilein I was suddenly exposed to the storm
which was funnelling down the loch. The water was choppy with waves crashing on
the shore. A flock of Mallard ducks bobbed on the water. I was lashed by rain
and wind. Once back in the trees all was calm again.
Soon I was back at the car, reflecting on a low-key but pleasant
and satisfying first trip of the year.
I made a little video of the trip with a look at the tent and stove I used.
