My Favourite Camps of 2024 & The Tents I Used

Coire Ardair, Creag Meagaidh, April. Mountain Laurel Designs DuoMid XL.

The winter solstice is when I to start looking back on the year that's ending and at the trips and camps I've done. For the fifth year running I didn't venture beyond the Scottish Highlands. As I said last year, there is so much to do here! Most trips were just two or three days. The longest was eighteen days on the Cape Wrath Trail in the Northwest Highlands in mid-May and early June, the second longest six days also on the Cape Wrath Trail in October. And I still didn't quite complete it! 

Last camp on Cape Wrath Trail near Sandwood Bay, October. Uncomfortable but sheltered from the worst of the wind. Mountain Laurel Designs Trailstars. Tony Hobbs has just lowered his as we packed up in the rain.

I camped at least once every month except for August and December (I don't think I'll manage another trip between now and New Year). Overall I had some great camps and splendid walks. Here's some pictures from each month. As someone usually asks about one or two of the tents this year I've made a few comments about them. I've also given links to my posts about the trips.

Dawn in the Cairngorms, January. Nortent Vern 1 (Version 1).

My first camp was in January in snow on Miadan Creag an Leth-choin in the Cairngorms. The temperature fell to -7C and I needed crampons and ice axe for the walk over the Northern Corries the next day. The Vern 1 is the only tent I had to test this year. I never reviewed it as the design was changed drastically and I never received the new version. 

On the Moine Mhor, Cairngorms, January. Nortent Vern 1 & Hilleberg Nammatj 2.

January saw a second Cairngorms trip, this time two nights with Tony Hobbs. There was less snow than earlier in the month and we pitched on frozen ground.

Down in Glen Feshie, January.

After crossing the Moine Mhor we descended into Glen Feshie for a sheltered camp in the forest as the wind picked up.

Deep in the forest, February. Hilleberg Soulo.

February saw another forest camp in the Cairngorms with Tony, this time in Rothiemurchus Forest. We had intended camping higher but couldn't find a site that was reasonably sheltered from the fierce wind and not sodden from recent rain and snowmelt. Down in the trees I didn't need the Hilleberg Soulo, the strongest most storm-resistant tent I have. A much lighter shelter would have been fine.  The next day we failed to reach a summit due to the wind.

By the Allt Coire Bhlair, Glen Feshie, March. Mountain Laurel Designs DuoMid XL. 

March saw three trips. Early in the month I walked through Glen Feshie and camped where the forest starts to fade away before heading up to snowy Mullach Clach a' Bhlair and back down to the glen. For this trip I took the DuoMid XL pyramid tent, which has been a favourite for a decade. I love the room inside, especially when used with just a groundsheet, as I usually do.

Below Sail Mhor, March. Mountain Laurel Designs Trailstar.

Two weeks later I made the first trip of the year away from the Cairngorms when I headed west to An Teallach to join the It's Up To Us path work for a feature in The Great Outdoors. My magazine work finished I walked up the Allt Airdeasaidh glen to camp between An Teallach and Sail Mhor. I climbed the latter from camp on the spring equinox. The superb Trailstar tarp I used has been a favourite for over twelve years and by far my most used shelter in that time as it's been on several long-distance walks including the Scottish Watershed. 

 

Spring snow camp, March. Mountain Laurel Designs DuoMid XL.

My third March trip was back in the Cairngorms on the annual Inverness Backcountry Snowsports Club igloo building trip on the Moine Mhor.  Having helped with the igloos I retired to the quiet of my tent. This was the last camp on snow until the autumn.

Dusk in Coire Ardair, April. Mountain Laurel Designs DuoMid XL.

In April I was joined by Tony Hobbs again for a walk into Coire Ardair below the great cliffs of Creag Meagaidh. From our camp we went over snow-covered Creag Meagaidh. Ice axes were still needed.

Upper Glen Affric, Cape Wrath Trail, May. Mountain Laurel Designs SoloMid XL.

Mid May to early June I was on the Cape Wrath Trail, completing most of it before storms persuaded me to leave the rest for better weather. The first five days were superb with clear blue skies and sunshine. Then it became rainier and windier. I took the SoloMid XL as it's lighter than the DuoMid XL and has a door that can be closed, unlike the Trailstar. I gave it Best Buy in a review of solo tents in The Great Outdoors.

Lovely evening light at Loch Coire Fionnaraich after a wet day, Cape Wrath Trail, May

There was fine light at times though, even if short-lived, and I still had some good camps.

Glen Oykel plantation, Cape Wrath Trail, June. Tony with the Mountain Laurel Designs Grace Tarp.

Tony Hobbs joined me for the last four days of this trip, during which the weather worsened. After one wet and windy day we found a sheltered site in a plantation in Glen Oykel, not a scenic site but a very welcome one. The next morning the sun shone for a short while and we were able to air our damp gear.

Last camp on the Cape Wrath Trail, June.

After crossing a high pass in very strong winds and with a forecast for even stronger ones to come along with heavy rain we had one last camp before I decided to end the walk at Inchnadamph.

Stormy by Loch Eanaich, July. MSR Hubba NX Solo.

July saw just one camp before an operation on my hand put me out of action for a couple of months. Back in the Cairngorms I walked up Gleann Eanaich to camp by Loch Eanaich. The weather was wet and windy and the next day I walked back out the same way, which was no hardship in this beautiful landscape. Forgoing pyramid tents I took the MSR Hubba NX Solo, a good three-season tent I like but for some reason don't use that often. I should take it out more often.

On the Cairngorm Plateau, September. Mountain Laurel Designs SoloMid XL.

August was spent waiting for my hand to heal. By early September I felt ready for an overnight trip so I went up to the Cairngorm Plateau. The weather was hot and dry and after a comfortable camp I wandered up Ben Macdui and then back across the Plateau. 

At Fuaran Diotach, September. Mountain Laurel Designs SoloMid XL.

Ten days later I was out in the Cairngorms again, this time camping on the flanks of Sgor Gaoith before traversing that hill and Sgoran Dubh Mor in mixed weather.

Below Scotland's highest waterfall,  the Eas a' Chual Aluinn, Cape Wrath Trail, October. Mountain Laurel Designs Trailstar.

Early October saw a return to the Cape Wrath Trail with Tony Hobbs and a five day walk from Inchnadamph to Sandwood Bay in increasingly stormy weather.

At Lone, Cape Wrath Trail, October.

On this walk I took the Trailstar for the extra room and storm resistance. I didn't need a mesh inner as midge season was over nor a zipped door for privacy on camp sites. I just took a groundsheet and revelled in all the space.

Shelter in the forest, October. Hilleberg Niak.

Later in October I had a camp in Glen Feshie, a place I always visit in the autumn as the colours are wonderful. I used the Hilleberg Niak which had just been returned by Tony Hobbs who'd had it on loan for a year or so. Whilst it's a bit heavy compared with the pyramid shelters it is very roomy and quite stable. The latter was needed on this trip as it was quite windy.

In Strath Nethy. November. Hilleberg Niak.

I liked using the Niak so much I took it out again in November for a camp in Strath Nethy in the Cairngorms before I went up to The Saddle and back to Glenmore via Ciste Mhearad. 

Early morning, November. Hilleberg Soulo.

My camping in 2024 ended as it had begun with a camp in the snow on Miadan Creag an Leth-choin. This time the temperature fell to -9C. I took the Hilleberg Soulo, which was appropriate up here rather than in the forest, though the weather was less wind

Tips for Pitching a Tent or Tarp in Stormy Weather and Snow

This article is expanded from one that appeared earlier in the year as part of a series of articles on tents and backpacking I wrote for The Great Outdoors in conjunction with Hilleberg. I posted the first article on choosing a tent last month.

Shelters, whether tents or tarps, really come into their own when the weather turns stormy.

The way you pitch a shelter is often key to how secure it will feel. It can be immensely comforting to be warm and dry in the wilds inside a shelter you know is sturdy and well-pitched while rain, wind or snow whirl outside. Conversely, being inside a poorly pitched shelter which seems at risk of collapsing can be a very unnerving experience and guarantees a poor night’s sleep.

To maximise storm-worthiness there are a number of things you can do. The first is to ensure you are familiar and well-practiced at pitching your shelter so you do it quickly and efficiently in poor conditions – a howling storm is not the best time to be fumbling with a confusing mass of flapping nylon. Knowing the capabilities of your shelter is important too.

On a showery very windy day I found a sheltered site by dropping down into the top of a forest in the lee of the wind

1.     Pitch selection

In very windy weather, a sheltered site is well worth taking the time to find, though sometimes an exposed pitch may be the only option there is. Often, though, there are options; even a gentle bank or a pile of rocks can help cut the wind. Passing by that lovely hillside pitch and continuing downhill to a less windy spot is a good idea. In heavy rain, be wary of damp hollows though; these could fill with water. In woods, look up. Camping under a dead branch is a bad idea.

On a day of heavy rain and strong winds I descended into a glen to find a sheltered spot and then spent some time finding a slightly raised spot in case the river rose.

2.      Pitching

To stop your tent blowing away, peg down one end securely before inserting any poles or laying the tent out. In really strong winds you can put your pack on the tent while you do this or even lie on it. Then peg down the other end before inserting the poles (you may then have to unpeg each corner in turn to get the poles in).

 

Tunnel tents should be pitched with the rear into the wind for best stability. With other designs the door should be away from the wind if there’s only one.

3.      Pegs and guylines

Pegs should go in at about a 45-degree angle (leaning away from the tent) right up to their heads. Carry a selection of different pegs for different ground conditions – thin ones for stony and hard ground, wide ones for soft ground – so you can do this. In hard ground pegs can be pushed in with your feet or hammered in with a small rock. Don’t hit them too hard, even the toughest pegs can bend or break (a good reason for carrying a few spares).

If pegs really won’t go fully into the ground, pegging loops and guylines should be looped round the peg at ground level – higher up and they could lever the peg out. All guylines should be pegged out and tightened. I do this even if it’s calm – the wind may pick up during the night.

  

 Pitching in snow

 

It’s always preferable to pitch on dry ground rather than snow – it’s easier to do and the tent will be warmer, especially under you. When snow cover is extensive camping on it may be the only option. When this is the case a snow shovel is very useful for preparing the site (and transporting snow for melting for water). I always carry one. 

In soft snow, a platform should be stamped out then levelled for the tent. The platform should be as flat as possible – any lumps will harden under you. Leading the platform to firm up is the best way to avoid this but in a storm you’ll want to get under cover as soon as possible.

Special extra wide and long pegs are useful for snow. In soft snow these should be buried horizontally with guylines looped round them. Extra cord may be needed for pegging points round the edge of the flysheet for this. Ordinary pegs can be buried like this too. Stamp down on the snow above the peg to harden it – they’ll freeze in place and you may need an ice axe to dig them out the next day. Ice axes, trekking poles, and skis can be used as pegs in snow too.

 5.   Securing gear

 

Before pitching the tent, ensure all other gear is in your pack and the lid is shut so it stays dry and doesn’t blow away. Tent stuffsacks should be pushed into garment or pack pockets to stop them being lost to the wind.

Final checks 

Before getting inside the tent check all pegging points are secure and tighten the guylines. In rain it’s worth getting out last thing before sleep to tighten everything again – some tent fabrics stretch when wet. If it’s snowy, knock any snow off the tent. In very heavy snow you may need to do this during the night too. 

7.     Keeping the inner dry

Fill up water containers and do any other outside chores before entering the tent. If your outer clothing is wet, strip this off in the porch. A small sitmat is useful for kneeling on to do this. The idea is to keep any damp gear out of the inner tent so it stays as dry as possible. 

 

 

A Glorious Cairngorms Trip Above The Clouds

 

Sometimes tiny details in the weather forecast are worth pursuing. Towards the end of last week the gloomy outlook was for overcast skies and the clouds well down on the hills. But in the Mountain Weather Information Service (MWIS) Cairngorms forecast I noticed a mention of the possibility of areas above 1100 metres rising above the clouds. There's only one place with much land above that height and that's the Cairngorm Plateau. A high camp called.

Shrouded in mist I climbed onto the Plateau and started to wonder if I should find somewhere to camp soon. I'd left late and it would soon be dark. I could see little anyway. Then a hazy brightness appeared away to the west, gradually strengthening into an indistinct sun. The land began to glow gold, the mists began to sink away. I was above the clouds. All thought of stopping vanished. I headed for Ben Macdui.

Through the thinning mists I could see Braeriach rising above the cloud-filled Lairig Ghru pass. From Ben Macdui the Cairngorms were an isolated archipelago floating above a white sea. No other hills were visible. There was no wind, no sound except the crunch of my boots on gravel and patches of old snow. As darkness fell I dropped below the summit to camp at 1200 metres, well above the clouds. 

The night was dark, cold and starry. There was no moon. I've rarely seen such a brilliant display of stars. The sky was alive. I wandered round gazing in awe before retreating to the warmth of my tent and sleeping bag. I left the doors open though so I could stare out at the sky. I woke once to see Orion had risen, the constellation of autumn and winter.

Dawn came with a sharp frost. Ice in my water bottles. And a pink tinge on the horizon with blue sky above. Cairn Gorm rose above the clouds. Beautiful. Forgetting about breakfast I was up and out in minutes, watching the still hidden sun lighting slopes above me. The early light was glorious. 

Back on Ben Macdui I gazed again across the Lairig Ghru. The clouds were lower now with some distant hills poking through. The Cairngorms were no longer alone. 

Back at camp strands of thin cloud were drifting past, giving an insubstantial feel to the landscape. Then a fogbow formed, curving above my tent. I'd only ever seen one a couple of times before so I stood and stared for a while, feeling glad I'd seen this fairly rare phenomena. Little did I know what the day was to bring.

Camp packed I returned to Ben Macdui then started back across the Plateau, meeting many walkers heading up. To the west cirrus clouds traced delicate patterns on the blue sky, the precursor to a change in the weather. Ahead I could see that the clouds still covered the northern Plateau. I'd be back in them soon.

The splendour of the day was not over yet though. Another fogbow materialised, an arch I would never reach, never pass through, but which was always there in front of me, never coming closer, never retreating. I walked towards it, mesmerised. 

I lost the fogbow when I entered the mist, which was cold and damp. The world shrank to a few metres.  But then as I approached the edge of the Northern Corries the cloud started to thin and a fogbow started to appear again, this time with hints of colour in it. 

Peering down the steep slopes of Coire an t-Sneachda I could see a bigger fogbow and in its centre a Brocken spectre, my shadow thrown onto the fog. I'd seen this more often than a fogbow but the sight of one is always magical. It was a final touch of wonder before I descended into the clouds and a grey world.

Camping in the Lake District in the long hot summer of 1976

In Hollow Stones

As the rain continues to beat down outside I've been sorting through more old photos and came across some from a very different summer, one where it was dry for week after week after week. 1976. I made several trips to the Lake District, alone and with friends, walking and camping in the fells. The heat made for an indolent relaxing idyllic time, ambling to the tops, relaxing in the sun. A summer like no other.

Near Bleaberry Tarn with Crummock Water far below

My pictures, taken on an old point-and-shoot Instamatic, are soft and grainy and the colours have faded. They do bring back that glorious summer for me though.

A rare cloud! Great Gable from Lingmell

Bowfell Links from Three Tarns

Scafell Crag from Lingmell. My pack is on the right - Camp Trails Ponderosa bag on a Camp Trails Astral Cruiser external frame

Hollow Stones