Wind And Snow And Tough Terrain On A Winter Backpacking Trip

Snow on the last morning

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.

I made a little video of the trip:

Book Review: The Corbetts by Rab Anderson

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.

A look At The March Issue Of The Great Outdoors

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.

A Quiet First Camp Of The Year

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.

Book Review: Hiking The Yukon Quest by Dr Mark Hines

The Yukon Quest is a 1000-mile dog sled race from Fairbanks in Alaska to Whitehorse in the Yukon Territory. It’s regarded by many as the toughest such race in the world. Much of it takes place on frozen rivers. That’s when it’s not crossing mountain ranges. I guess the route could be hiked and pack rafted or canoed in summer. But that wouldn’t be the Yukon Quest. That requires ice and snow.

Travelling the Yukon Quest by dog sled would be tough even if not racing. Foregoing the dogs and pulling the sledge yourself would be crazy. But that’s what Dr Mark Hines did and this book tells the story of the amazing adventure that ensued.

When the author offered me a copy to review I agreed immediately, very happy to read any story involving the Yukon Territory as I’d walked it from south to north over three decades ago, a wonderful summer-long adventure that took me into the remotest, emptiest place I’ve ever hiked. I’ve returned once to lead a ski tour in the Tombstone Mountains. We only completed half the planned route. Breaking trail in deep snow and camping in temperatures down to -25°C where everything took twice as long to do slowed us down. So reading Mark’s book I had some idea of the country he was going through  - wild and beautiful - and what travelling there in snow was like – tough, very tough.

The story he tells is one of intense hardship, ferocious cold, great difficulty, physical exhaustion, as you’d expect, but also one of enthusiasm and delight. The author’s love of this far northern land shines through. He conjures up the magnificent wild forests, the wildlife, the rivers, and the mountains and makes me wish I was there.

A sense of humour about himself and what he’s doing leavens the obvious tough nature of the journey. It also, I think, masks some of the extreme risks involved, even though some incidents left my heart in my mouth despite obviously knowing he survived.

Although he was alone much of the time and had many solitary camps the author did meet people along the way who provided support, friendship and places to stay. His kinship with these people shows. This is where he feels at home.

The book is entertaining, enthralling, intense and, in places, emotional, a thrilling adventure story. I loved it.

Hiking The Yukon Quest

Stoves for Winter Camping

Using the MSR Reactor high in the Cairngorms

I use a stove on camping trips year-round. I like my morning coffee. I like hot food. In winter a stove becomes much more important though. Hot food and drink can warm you up and be a huge morale booster. You may need to melt snow for water. So a winter stove needs to be reliable and powerful.

Melting snow in the Jetboil MiniMo

When I started backpacking (oh, so long ago!)  I used a Trangia meths stove in cold weather. It worked, though lighting it could be a chore, but it was slow, especially when melting snow, and went through fuel fast. After a few years I moved onto stoves that ran on petrol and paraffin. These required care, especially petrol ones when lighting, but are fast and powerful and unaffected by the cold. They are quite heavy.

MSR Windburner in an igloo

It's now 25 years since I last used a liquid fuel stove. Canister stoves have improved so much they’re now fine for year-round use. Four developments are the reason. The first was the introduction of butane/propane/isobutane fuel mixes as these work much better in the cold than pure butane, which used to be all that was available. Then came heat exchanger stove systems that are far more fuel efficient, regulated burners that don’t lose power in the cold or as the canister empties, and remote canister stoves with preheat tubes so the canister can be inverted, creating a liquid fuel stove that works much better in the cold.

Melting snow in a Fire Maple Petrel G2 pot over an MSR Pocket Rocket Deluxe stove

All these made canister stoves good choices for winter use. Over the years I’ve tested quite a few of these. I’ve just made a YouTube video of the ones I like and use most. I like all of them but recently I’ve preferred the canister top stove/heat exchanger pot combinations due to the lower weight.

Here’s some details of the stoves I review in the video.

Weights are from my scales. Prices from various internet sources – these can vary greatly so it’s worth shopping around.

Model	Type	Weight in grams	Cost (£)
MSR Reactor	Stove system*	413	300
MSR Windburner	Stove system*	456/425**	210
Jetboil MiniMo	Stove system*	366/413**	185
Jetboil MicroMo	Stove system*	349/316**	175
MSR Pocket Rocket Deluxe	Canister top	84/277***	85/109****
Soto Windmaster 4Flex	Canister top	88/281***	72/96****
Optimus Vega	Remote canister	182/375***	140/164****
Alpkit Koro	Remote canister	126/319***	60/84****

*Stove systems include a heat exchanger pot

** weight with and without plastic base cup

*** weight of stove alone and weight with Fire Maple Petrel 800ml pot

**** cost of stove alone and cost with Fire Maple 800ml pot

A Look At The February Issue Of TGO

In the latest issue of The Great Outdoors I review the excellent Ombraz Refugio sunglasses, two pairs of wide footwear that fit my wide feet (Gemma Palmer reviews two pairs of women's wide boots) and the Polar Grit X2 Pro outdoor watch. The last is one of four watches in a long-term side-by-side review, the others being the Garmin Enduro 3 reviewed by Fiona Russell, the Corus Nomad reviewed by David Lintern, and the Garmin Instinct 3 reviewed by Francesca Donovan.

Also in the Gear pages is a comparative review of outdoor trousers by Gemma Palmer and Alex Roddie, who test three pairs each, a review of the Outdoor Research Helium Down Jacket by Steph Wetherall, and in The Long ReView Lucy Wallace praises her 12 year old Lowe Alpine Mountain Attack ND 35-45 rucksack.

An unusual review comes from swim coach and outdoor journalist Rosie Woodland who suffers from arthritis in her knees. On a trip in Eryri (Snowdonia) she tried the Hypershell X Ultra exoskeleton to see if it would help. In a long piece she describes in the trip in detail and her conclusions.

In the big features James Forrest describes ten 'Superb Summits' as an intrepid tick-list to get you started with mountain planning in 2026. It's a great list and I certainly hope to do the four Scottish ones again this year.  

There's a piece on people who've swapped the rat race for an outdoor-centred existence. Nick Livesey describes packing in his job in Northamptonshire and moving to Eryri to start life as a photographer and mountain leader. Alison and Jeremy O'Leary went from Central London to Bannau Brycheiniog (Brecon Beacons) which they say was life-changing. In a really drastic change Jen and Sim Benson moved out of their house with their two young children to spend a year in a bell tent as they travelled around the UK and became outdoor writers. Nic Roams ditched London and her home for a self-build van conversion and eventually a cabin in Eryri (Snowdonia). She now teaches bushcraft and women's wilderness skills.

In excerpts from his book In Green - Two Horses, Two Strangers, a journey to the End of the Land Louis D. Hall gives a glimpse of his trek from the Apennine Mountains to Cape Finisterre.

Back in Britain photographer Feargus Cooney describes two decades of learning how to thrive in the Scottish winter mountains and take stunning images, some of which illustrate the feature.

Abroad again but still in the snow Anna Richards takes a course on extreme cold survival in the Swiss Jura mountains.

In shorter pieces Francesca Donovan reviews the film Folktales by Rachel Grady and Heidi Ewing, Hanna Lindon looks at the story of Grubs Boots, Jim Perrin returns to France and Mont Canigou for his Mountain Portrait, and Juls Stodel looks at cheeses for elevating the bothy experience.  

In the Skills section four industry experts look at ways to re-train for work in the outdoors in leading and coaching, access and conservation, media and communications, and gear design.

The Wild Walks section has seven walks in which geology takes centre stage. James Roddie takes a lesser-trodden path into the rocky Quiraing on the Isle of Skye and James Forrest climbs the mica schist of The Cobbler in the Arrochar Alps. In the limestone landscapes of the Yorkshire Dales Ian Battersby visits Whernside and Twisleton Scars and Vivienne Crow negotiates Conistone Pie and Conistone Dib. There's limestone on Whitbarrow Scar in the Lake District too, walked over by Norman Hadley. The rock changes to millstone grit for Andrew Galloway's trip to The Roaches and Hanging Stone in the Peak District. Limestone returns much further south for Zoe Tehrani on a walk from Weymouth to Lulworth Cove.