Going Solo

Solo camp in the Cairngorms in February

Why solo walking and camping? What makes going alone special? I think it’s because it’s only when you are on your own that you can really experience the natural world, really experience the landscape. At least that’s how it is for me. Solitude allows me to feel aware of the world around me and in touch with nature. An obvious reason for this is the lack of distraction from companions. When I walk with others a key part of the trip is being with them and sharing the experience with them. Nothing wrong with that of course but it does create a barrier between you and nature, a barrier that’s there even if you walk in silence or far apart much of the time. Just the presence of another person changes the feeling of the walk and the connection with the wild. Alone I see more, notice more. The details of the world become clear. 

In the Fannichs in July on my solo Scottish Watershed walk

Going solo gives the freedom to make decisions on the spur of the moment, to change plans at will, without the need to consult a companion. This freedom makes me feel more at home in the wilds because I’m able to react immediately to how I feel and to the weather, wildlife, scenery and more. If it rains in the morning I can delay departure, lying in the tent listening to the rain on the flysheet. If my camp is in a beautiful spot I can spend an hour or more just sitting there or wandering slowly round the area absorbing the feel of the place before starting out for the day. Once underway I can stop whenever I like, make camp early because I’ve found a site too good to miss, or walk long into the night because I’m feeling energetic. 

This piece first appeared in The Great Outdoors last year.

The Great Outdoors April issue - base layers, gaiters, pack history

In the latest issue of The Great Outdoors I review fourteen base layer tops, three gaiters at different price points, and look at the history of the first ever internal frame pack, the Lowe Alpine Expedition. Oh, and I review a Berghaus fleece jacket too.

The issue opens with some tremendous dramatic images - the Aonach Eagach in winter by Ed Smith and the Milky Way above Snowdon by Alyn Wallace. Away from photography there's an interview with artist Andy Beck and his project of painting watercolours of every view in Wainwright's seven Pictorial Guides to the Lakeland Fells along with a small selection of the final 1509 pictures.

Elsewhere in the magazine Alex Kendall describes a long-distance route through Snowdonia from Machynlleth to Conwy; Alan Rowan experiences seasonal changes on Lochnagar; Alex Roddie goes backpacking in the Yorkshire Dales; and Judy Armstrong visits the Ecrins, France's largest national park.

The regular columnists have very varied stuff this month. The ever adventurous Ed Byrne tries bothying in the Cairngorms and ends up as a news story after helping a walker in trouble. Carey Davies has a hard time too when he's assaulted on the way home from the Pyrenees. Roger Smith ponders EU funding for access and what could happen if it disappears. Jim Perrin likes Paul Evans' Field Notes from the Edge, about Shropshire's hill country.

The Hill Skills section is about Walking with Wildlife with advice from James Roddie on not disturbing the creatures of the wild; a look at Wildlife Trust nature reserves; what you might see after dark; and a guide to upland birds from Jamie Wyver of the RSPB.

Snowshoes to Ben Macdui

Ben Macdui

Snowshoes or skis? There looked to be enough snow on the Cairngorm Plateau to make progress easier than walking with either of them. I scanned the hills through binoculars. A rash of dark spots was revealed – rocks poking through the snow. Not good for skis. Ascent routes looked rather snow free too. I don’t like carrying skis or walking in ski touring boots for any distance. Snowshoes it would be. This year has seen snow but not that much.

Stob Coire an-t Sneachda & Cairn Lochan

As I climbed up to the Plateau with my snowshoes strapped to my pack I already felt I’d made the right choice. The air was still, the sun shone in a deep blue sky. The terrain though was frozen and out of the sun it was cold. On the Plateau there was just enough of a breeze to need some extra clothing. Stob Coire an-t Sneachda was a mix of snow and rocks, with many climbers finishing routes on the icy cliffs. I kept the snowshoes on the pack until I’d crossed this peak and descended to the high col with Cairn Lochan.

Cairn Gorm & Stob Coire an-t Sneachda

 

Unbroken snow stretched out towards Ben Macdui so I donned the snowshoes. I was to keep them on for almost the rest of the walk other than on Macdui’s summit where I removed them while I wandered round mountain and sky watching. 

The Cairngorm Plateau stretching out to Ben Macdui

The Plateau was as vast and beautiful as always. It never ceases to impress. Distant views were hazy though the other Cairngorms peaks were clear. Wisps and curls of cloud drifted high above, outliers of the storm forecast to arrive that night. 

A few skiers linked big snowfields as I climbed the final slopes to Ben Macdui to have the summit to myself. I saw no-one else the rest of the day. To the south the haze was obliterating the view, spectacular when clear, while across the Lairig Ghru the snow-streaked east faces of Cairn Toul and Sgor an Lochain Uaine rose into the sky with clouds building beyond them. 

Cairn Lochan & Sgor an Lochain Uaine

 

Returning across the Plateau the wind began to pick up and by the time I was crossing the western slopes of Cairn Lochan the gusts were strong enough to drive little clouds of spindrift across the snow. The sun was setting now, lighting up the clouds in the west and turning the snow pink. 

Sunset begins

 

As I began the descent the wind rapidly increased in strength and the spindrift came in head high blasts that had me turning away from the stinging snow and bracing myself against my poles to stay upright. 

Linking snow patches I kept the snowshoes on until I was within half an hour of the Coire Cas car park. I was glad not to have to remove them until I was out of the strongest wind. As I finished the trip a crescent moon was high in the sky and Venus was just visible through thin clouds.

Twenty-Four Hours of Winter Perfection

Sunset from the Moine Mhor

Winter conditions in Scotland are erratic and unpredictable most years but have been exceptionally so this season. Cold weather and snow has only come in short bursts, followed by longer periods of milder wet and windy weather with rapid thaws. Making the most of the times when the snow is crisp and the sky clear has meant watching the forecasts and seizing any sign of calm. When there was such a prediction for the very end of February with maybe twenty-four hours of settled cold conditions an overnight trip seemed a good idea.

Glen Feshie was cold and still as two of us hefted our packs on our backs and started the long haul up to the Moine Mhor. The snow in the glen was thin and patchy. A walker coming down said there was a strong bitter wind on the tops but by the time we were there it had died away to nothing. Ahead vast snowfields stretched out to distant summits. Under snow this is always an amazing place with a real feel of the arctic, a sense of huge wildness. I love it!

Crossing the Moine Mhor

We tramped across the snow, sometimes sinking in shin deep, sometimes just biting into the surface. The clouds that had swept across the sky as we climbed began to dissipate, creating beautiful patterns in the sky. Out west there was a wide strip of cloudless blue. The sun would soon be shining there, lighting up the snow and the clouds. I paused, letting Mark march on far ahead. As the crunch of his boots and click of his trekking poles faded I was enveloped in silence. Not a sound anywhere, not a single tiny sound. The world felt huge and pure and ecstatic. For that brief moment there was perfection.

After sunset with Venus high above

The sun cut under the clouds and the mountains and the snow glowed. Slowly it sank into the far west and the sky began to darken through shades of blue. As we began to descend the planet Venus appeared big and bright in the sky ahead. With no wind we didn’t feel cold while moving though the temperature never rose above zero. 

A starry camp

Down in Glen Feshie headlamps came out for the walk through the woods to find a spot to camp. Once the packs were off the cold began to bite. Tents up we were soon inside making hot drinks and soup. Then the night sky lured me out to stare at the brilliant starscape above the silhouettes of the trees. A wonderful night. Still virtual silence, though I could just hear the trickle of the river and occasionally an owl called.

A frosty morning

Dawn came with a hard frost. The tents were white. The temperature was -7°C. A real winter’s night. Soon the sun came and the world brightened. Wandering down the glen we admired the magnificent old pines and the youngsters below them, well-established regeneration bringing health and continuing life to the ancient forest. 

Erosion

Two day walkers talked of avalanches. I wasn’t sure what they meant but on reaching the confluence of the Allt Garbhlach and the River Feshie I knew. Here a high cliff of soil and stone, the side of a moraine sliced through by the ever-changing river, was eroding before our eyes. As the sun melted ice in the cliffs rocks, stones and pebbles were released, tumbling into the river and sending spurts of water into the air. We watched fascinated then walked on to the finish. By early afternoon we were in a café in Aviemore. I looked out of the window. Snow and sleet was sweeping down the street. The twenty-four hours of calm had been just that and had given us a memorable winter trip.

Loch Lomond & The Trossachs National Park Extended Camping Ban Comes Into Force

Loch Lomond

This month sees the start of the controversial extended camping ban in parts of Loch Lomond and the Trossachs National Park. This sets a worrying precedent and goes far beyond the original ban that was claimed to be purely about stopping destructive camping beside the road on the east side of Loch Lomond. I wrote a piece when this extended ban was given the go ahead early last year. Since then much more has come out about the dubious shenanigans behind the ban due to the tenacious investigations of the excellent Parkswatch Scotland whose latest feature on the issue says the introduction of the ban  'probably marks the most retrograde in the history of access to land in Scotland since the Trespass Scotland Act of 1865'. You can read the whole piece here.

Camp in the woods near Loch Lomond.

Information from the national park on the camping byelaws and wild camping can be found here. This makes it all sound reasonable and fair. It's not though, as Parkswatch Scotland has made clear. The areas with bans are not all popular as claimed. The number of official camping spots provided isn't adequate, the ban on motorhomes doesn't make sense, and the idea it's to stop environmental damage is belied by the greater damage the park itself has done in some places. Then there's also the fact that if there weren't enough police or rangers to stop the vandalism - which was of course already illegal - why will new byelaws make any difference? They're not going to magic police out of nowhere.

Mountaineering Scotland and Ramblers Scotland have both opposed the ban and given advice on camping in the area. I suspect many people will simply decide it's not worth the potential hassle and will go elsewhere.