Latest Great Outdoors: New Waterproof Jackets & Scottish Watershed Report plus a look back to the July edition: three-season sleeping bags & more

Cloud Inversion on the Scottish Watershed Walk

In the August issue of The Great Outdoors, in the shops now, I review thirteen new waterproof jackets, including the Rab Myriad that I wore on the Scottish Watershed Walk. The latter also features in my backpacking column, which I wrote on my tablet in a hotel room in the Great Glen halfway through the walk.

This issue also features some great photographs: a wonderful atmospheric picture of the Langdale Pikes by Stewart Smith and an even more atmospheric and moody picture of Loch Lomond by Damien Shield. Elsewhere David Lintern interviews Charlie Ramsey on the 35th anniversary of his run over 24 Munros in 24 hours, known as Ramsey's Round (which took me four days on my continuous Munros and Tops walk); Keith Fergus looks at the Loch Lomond and the Trossachs area in literature from Sir Walter Scott to Alastair Borthwick; Cameron McNeish explores the spectacular far North-West of Scotland; Daniel Neilson visits the Val Venosta in the Alps and Jim Perrin praises Dorothy Pilley's Climbing Days. There's a big feature on walking and camping with kids by John Manning and the Hill Skills section has more on this. In the gear section Daniel Neilson reviews six knives and multi-tools; Geoff Barton tries the Thule Perspectiv Day Pack camera bag and David Lintern tests the unusual Therm-a-Rest Altair sleeping bag. David Lintern also pops up in the Wild Walks section with an excellent piece on an ascent of Bruach na Frithe on his first visit to the Cuillin.

The July Great Outdoors came out while I was on the Watershed Walk and I didn't see it until I returned home. It has my review of fourteen three-season sleeping bags, including the Rab Infinity 300 I used on the walk, plus my first report on the walk, sent from Moffat. Daniel Neilson reviews hydration reservoirs and filtration systems (neither of which I took on the Watershed) and also the Fjallraven Keb jacket and trousers plus the Komperdell Ultralight Vario 4 trekking poles.

There's also an interview with Terry Abraham about the Cairngorms In Winter film, with a short bit from me about still photography, and a review of the film by Andy Howell. The Hill Skills section is mostly about photography too with advice from photographers Ray Wood, Mark Gilligan and Chiz Dakin.

Elsewhere Carey Davies spends midsummer night on Suilven; Mark Gilligan looks at Lakeland tarns; Ed Byrne learns about rescue dogs; Paul Beasley looks at the impact of military training on Dartmoor; photographer Ray Wood records a scramble in the Carneddau with an iPhone and Jim Perrin praises Showell Styles' The Mountains of North Wales.

The Cairngorms In Winter Film News

Whilst I was away walking the Scottish Watershed Terry Abraham was busy promoting and distributing the film we made last winter as well as working on his next film Life of a Mountain: Scafell Pike. Terry has produced a DVD with extra scenes and outtakes. It's available now from Striding Edge and will eventually appear in some outdoor shops. It's also available as a download from Steep Edge.

I returned from the Wateshed Walk in time to attend a showing of the film at the Rheged Centre in Cumbria. It was somewhat unnerving seeing myself on the huge IMAX screen. The landscape sections looked fantastic at that size though. 

The film's Scottish Premiere will be at the Eden Court Theatre in Inverness on August 28.  Terry and I will be there.

Other showings aren't confirmed yet but Terry has entered the film for the Kendal and Banff Mountain Film Festivals, which both take place in the autumn.

Terry was also interviewed about the film by UK Climbing.com and by Summit and Valley.com while I was interviewed for the BMC website. 

The film has continued to receive amazingly good reviews, which is very pleasing. Here's a few quotes and links:

"kept me enthralled for a full 90 minutes." Dan Bailey. UK Hillwalking

 "Full of breathtaking scenery and Chris’ rich narrative ...... Terry Abraham does a masterful job capturing the bigness of the Cairngorms in his first big screen epic, which is certain to cement his reputation as an outdoor filmmaker".    Gossamer Gear.

"Terry did a marvelous job weaving Chris’ narration with glorious landscape shots and close-up encounters with Chris where his knowledge and enthusiasm about the region shine through." Section Hiker.

"a film unlike any other - a real love letter to the mountains ...... this film reflects the true nature of the landscape better than any other film I have seen about mountaineering. It's more like a painting or a symphony than a film as we understand it - a true work of art." Alex Roddie.

"This is quite simply the best film about the British landscape ever made." Jake Lunniss.

"The photography is superb and to my mind has the look of the grandeur of say BBC’s Yellowstone Park series.  This is Terry and Chris’ first full length film running as it does for 96 minutes, although the time passes quickly and you wish there was more to view at the end of the film." Mark's Walking Blog

The Speed of Light: Loch Morlich at Dusk

The Beginning: 8.22pm

  

The Build-Up: 8.30pm

The Finale: 8.35pm

Returning from a walk on the Cairngorm Plateau under overcast skies I sensed a lightning of the clouds as I drove past Loch Morlich so I stopped and strolled down to the shore. Thin clouds were reflected in the gently breeze rippled water and although the sun had set the sky to the north was brightening rather than darkening. Within a few minutes the clouds were turning orange and pink, colours that rapidly intensified to create a glorious scene. Then, after less than a quarter than an hour, the light faded and greyness returned. But for a while it was wonderful, a brief flash of colour on an otherwise subdued day.

Bogs, Trees & Mist: Navigating the Scottish Watershed

Heading for the Light: A Forest in the Central Lowlands

Following the highest land, as it must up, the Watershed of Scotland is bound to be a strenuous walk in terms of ascent and descent. That I expected. However what makes it really tough is the terrain rather than the hills. Indeed, the easiest walking is on the heights, above 600 metres, where the ground is generally drier, smoother (few if any tussocks) and the vegetation short. And the best walking of all is on the highest summits, the Munros, as there are paths, rare elsewhere on the Watershed.

The Watershed stretches out through Southern Upland Forests

Much of the Watershed, especially in the Southern Uplands, the Central Lowlands and the Flow Country, is pathless and boggy, a giant sponge of tussocks and moss. Water may run off either side of the Watershed. It also sits on top of it. On many days I was almost permanently in ankle deep bogs, with the occasional variation of a knee-deep plunge. The tussocks make walking awkward too, a stumbling lurch from side to side rather than a purposeful stride. Finding a rhythm was impossible. Distance was hard to estimate too. On the map I averaged just 2 kilometres an hour sloshing through the bogs. I reckon I actually walked twice that distance as I weaved around trying to find the easiest route.

A Decorative Tree Tangle

Forests – or rather plantations – add to the difficulties. The Wateshed often follows an open area between two forests - the result of being the border between estates - but even so in many places linking forest rides and tracks to find a way through the densely packed trees while staying close to the Watershed wasn’t easy. Sometimes when rides faded away I had to crawl through the trees. And when there were rides they were often just as boggy and tussocky as the moors outside the trees. Navigation was often hard in the forest too. Tracks and rides twisted and turned or simply stopped, requiring frequent compass bearings and location checks with the GPS. Then there were the fallen trees, sometimes so tangled I couldn't force a way through and had to follow the edge of them until an opening appeared.

Fallen Tree Wall

High in the hills, whilst the terrain underfoot was easier, the usual mountain weather factors affected both navigation and physical progress. Thick mist, heavy rain and high winds were common in the Highlands, especially between the Great Glen and Strath Carron. Not wanting to spend too long practising compass navigation in the clouds whilst trying not to be blown over (I’ve done it so many times in the past it’s now a chore rather than a challenge) I took lower routes paralleling the Watershed in places. Sometimes though the storms came in whilst I was already high in the hills or else I couldn’t see an alternative that stayed fairly close to the Watershed. And sometimes the storms were so severe that I was battered by them on the lower routes.

A Good Path! On Ben Lomond

Though there were paths between many hills the Watershed often leaves these for steeper, rougher terrain that is rarely walked. I had very difficult and hazardous descents down the steep craggy north sides of several hills, slipping and sliding along ledges and down gullies in the wind, rain and mist as I tried to find safe ways down. Ben Lui, Beinn Dronaig and Ben Hee stand out as hills with such terrain on the Watershed. Lower down the extremely steep and long descent into the Great Glen involved head high bracken, tangled ancient birch woods and dense conifers all on loose wet ground littered with boulders and fallen branches.

Thick Mist on Ben Hee

This combination of bogs and forests and mist and wind made the Watershed one of the toughest long distance walks I’ve done. The only places with so much rough boggy ground I’ve walked were the muskeg swamps of the northern Yukon Territory, while the only time I’ve had to deal with such stormy weather on exposed hills was, unsurprisingly, in the Highlands on my summer-long round of the Munros and Tops. Overall I think the Watershed is a harder walk than the Munros, although half the length, because of the terrain.

Was it worth the struggle? Of course. The rugged nature of the Watershed is because it’s mostly wild and remote, which is one of the big attractions. A week after finishing I’m already feeling restless and wishing I was back out there, walking every day, camping at night, living in nature.

To Duncansby Head: Scottish Watershed

Stacks of Duncansby & Duncansby Head

A final day's walk across the last bog cotton and heather of the Flow Country - all dry and crunchy underfoot - led to the east coast a few kilometres south of Duncansby Head where the North Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean in the Pentland Firth. That last walk along the cliffs made for a superb finale with splendid scenery and a mass of whirling sea birds. Peter Wright, author of Ribbon of Wildness, the book that inspired my walk, was there to meet me on Duncansby Head. Suddenly the walk was over. After two months I would no longer pack up in the morning and walk on, following the twists and turns of the Watershed. There had been storms and sunshine, wildlife and wild land, and a new way of looking at the Scottish landscape. I'll always be aware of the Watershed from now on and always aware of how unspoiled and remote most of it is - and should remain. My thoughts and feelings will, I know, change in the weeks ahead as the effects of the walk sink in and different experiences and impressions surface. I'll be writing more here and in The Great Outdoors magazine and, hopefully, eventually there will be a book. Thanks to everyone who followed my progress and read my reports here and on Facebook and Twitter.

Duncansby Head

The End Approaches and The Sun Finally Shines: Scottish Watershed

Ten days out from Ullapool and I've arrived in the village of Watten, just 20 miles from Duncansby Head and the end of the Watershed. And for the last three days the sun has shone as I've crossed the vast open spaces of the Flow Country (the photo shows one of my camps in this area). Indeed the sun appeared as soon as I was east of the mountains, straight after a horrendous struggle over Ben Hee in a big storm. There were touches if sunshine on earlier days, including, fortuitously, on Beinn Leoid, where I met David Edgar who is hiking the watershed all the way to Dover. I'll follow his progress with interest.
Ironically the notoriously boggy Flow Country has turned out to be the driest section of the walk as there has been no rain for many weeks. I crossed Knockfinn Heights, normally a quaking mass of mites, peat hags and pools, in sandals and my feet stayed dry.
Now I am near the coast the weather has turned misty with the haar coming in off the North Sea. That should make my last day cooler.

Sun & Cloud in the Fannichs: Scottish Watershed

After a week of storms and cloud-shrouded, wind-battered mountains it was a relief to see sunshine and summits. From Strath Carron the Scottish Watershed takes its usual meandering course, making a big loop west over little hills then east to the isolated Munro, Fionn Bheinn, a great viewpoint for the Fannichs range, then back west again round the headwaters of the burns that feed Loch Fannich before following the crest of the Fannichs eastwards.
Two days of hot sunshine filtered through high thin clouds led to Fionn Bheinn, then a camp below the little known hill called Groban. From here I crossed the high tops of the Fannichs, first in sunshine, then in cloud and drizzle. Hoping for a clearance I camped high, just below Beinn Liath Mhor Fannaich. The next morning I was rewarded for camping in a wet cloud with a wonderful cloud inversion. Only a few metres below me all was thick mist. Above Sgurr Mor, the highest of the Fannichs, rose into a blue sky. It was the finest morning of the walk.