The Mountain's Silhouette

My TGO Challenge 2013 Gear List

2013-05-05T20:38:00+01:00

In less than a week I’ll be setting off from Plockton on my TGO Challenge. Gear is of course a very personal thing and what I’ll be taking with me has, in most cases, proved itself over several trips over the last couple of years. There are a couple of new items but these got a reasonable outing in Ardgour last weekend and I’m confident that they’ll suit my needs. I was aiming for a baseweight of 8kg but have slightly overshot, mainly because of the addition of a pair of microspikes to deal with whatever remains of winter in the high mountains. This also details food required for the first stretch which is 4.5 days of walking to get me to Fort Augustus. Subsequent sections are shorter but I’ll be carrying store bought foods.

Worn Stuff

Chocolate Fish Taranaki Long Sleeved Crew Merino Baselayer
Technicals Zip-Off Walking Trousers
Rab Boreas Hooded Mid
Montane Featherlite Windshirt
Icebreaker Merino Socks
M&S Boxers
Inov-8 Terroc 330s trail shoes
Dirty Girl Ankle Gaiters
Mountain King Supertrekker Poles

Weight: 2,396g

Packing

Osprey Exos 46 rucksack
Oookworks Cuben Foodbag
Sea-to-Summit Dry Bag
Trash bag

Weight: 1,203g

Shelter

Tarptent Scarp 1 in Cuben stuffsack
Alpkit Titanium V Pegs
MSR Stakes
Peg Bag

Weight: 1,418g

Sleeping

PHD Minim 400 Sleeping Bag, long with 3/4 length zip
RAB Silk Liner
Exped Synmat UL7 inflatable mat
Exped air pillow

Weight: 1,537g

Cooking

Optimus Crux gas stove
Gas canister
Titanium windshield
Fire Steel
Evernew Titanium 600ml pot
Plastic mug
Plastic long-handled spoon
MYOG Pouch cosy

Weight: 503g (not including gas)

Carried Gear

Rab Demand eVent smock
Berghaus Paclite overtrousers
Patagonia Nanopuff pull-on
Chocolate Fish Merino-Possum beanie
Chocolate Fish Merino-Possum thermal gloves
Outdoor Designs liner gloves
Trek Mates waterproof overmitts
Merino Buff
REI runners cap
Bloc sunglasses
Spare boxers and liner socks (for camp)
Pogu Microspikes

Weight: 1,816g

Essentials

Map case, A4 print-outs and route sheet
Silva compass
First aid kit, including tick removal gizmo
Wash kit, including Gehwohl footcream and Dr Bronners
SPF50 Suncream
Burt’s Bees Lip balm
Petzl e-lite head torch
Platypus 2 L reservoir
MSR packtowel
Midgenet
MSR blizzard “Ibbo” toilet trowel
Toilet paper
Debit card, ID, notes and cheques (not pictured)
Notebook and pencil
Plastic trash bags (not pictured)

Weight: 698g

Electronics

Panasonic Lumix LX5 in case with spare battery and SD card
Gorillapod
SPOT Tracker with 1 set of spare batteries
Kindle Keyboard in Medium Whanganui Aquapac
Nexus 4 in Small Whanganui Aquapac with Headphones
8000mah battery pack with cables and Kindle plug (not pictured)

Weight: 1,438g

Total Weights

Base Weight: 8.68kg

Base Weight is the weight of everything carried (in a pack or about your person such as in a camera bag). It excludes consumables (see below) and clothing worn (see the first category above). I also exclude walking poles since these are in my hands 95% of the time when walking.

Consumables

Gas: 0.23kg
Water: 0.5kg
Food (5 days to Fort Augustus): 2.93kg

Total Pack Weight: 12.33kg

Skin-Out Weight: 14.85kg

Other People

Here are a few other lists that have been shared by TGO Challengers recently:

Louise Evans: 8.97kg base
Gordon Green: 5.34kg base
James Boulter: Unknown
Alan Sloman: 9.36kg base
Martin Rye: 8.13kg base
Philip Werner: 6.65kg base
David Williams: 11.68kg base Martin Banfield: 10.81kg base

An Ardgour Adventure

2013-05-04T21:00:00+01:00

Date: 26th to 28th April 2013
Distance: 50.92km
Ascent: 2,020m
Hills: Meall nan Damh (Graham), Sgurr Ghiubhsachain (Corbett), Stob a’Bhealach an Sgriodain [Druim Tarsuinn] (Corbett)
Weather: Changeable
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

With just two weeks left until the start of the TGO Challenge I decided it was about time I got out and did some backpacking. Recent weekends have been taken up by a number of interesting diversions with trips to see family in Yorkshire at Easter, a few nights in London followed by a wedding in Norfolk and then taking visitors around the delights of Royal Deeside. All of this amounted to a lot of good food, drink and travel, but very little hiking and certainly no nights spent cooped up in a tent listening to the Scottish rain hammering down.

So it was that I found myself making an early get-away from Aberdeen on a Friday morning and driving west through an ever changing mixture of sunshine, cloud-covered mountains and rain showers to reach the Corran Ferry south of Fort William. This glided across the glassy waters of Loch Linnhe to Ardgour and just a few miles north of the pier I parked up at the entrance to Cona Glen, one of the glens that runs east-west through the eastern end of the Ardnamurchan peninsula. After recently reading about James’ brilliant trip to this area my own plans had been solidified and looking for a mix of good glen walking, some hills and without worrying about conditions at Munro height I was here in Ardgour with a plan.

After another rain shower passed over it was under pleasant sunshine that I ambled my way into the peaceful confines of the glen. The river chattered away, the water level reasonably high, and I made good progress on an easy landrover track.

Lower Cona Glen is green and fertile and the narrow sides hide the mountains away from you but beyond the trees I came out into open upper reaches where a string of hills marched away on either side, culminating in the snow-capped twin peak of Sgurr Guibsachan, a Corbett.

The rain came on heavier and I stopped to put on my waterproofs but beyond the locked cottage of Corriarach it slacked and then eased off completely, dark grey skies to bright sunshine in just a minute or two. As lunchtime had passed during the shower I left the track and paused down by the river for a wrap. The remarkable views pulled me onward and soon enough I was in the upper reaches of the glen.

On my left the Graham of Meall nan Damh offered an “inviting” climb and so rather than wade through the track building site I climbed steeply up to its heathery ridge.

As I gained altitude it was clear the next shower was on its way and as I headed along the undulating summit plateau it hit in full force, a fierce northerly wind bringing bitingly cold snow.

I paused only briefly at the first summit but by the time I reached the west top it was easing and as I descended down slippery slopes to the glen of the Allt na Cruiche the sun returned and I quickly warmed back up.

After crossing the boggy glen it was then a very waterlogged track that dropped me down towards the River Callop. Ahead of me a snow-capped Streap emerged from dark clouds. On the way I caught up a slow moving walker who turned out to be 70 years old and just embarking on the Cape Wrath Trail. He was complaining about brining along 1.5kg of amateur radio equipment!

After passing Callop and the public car park I turned onto the Forestry Commission road which runs along the southern side of Glen Callop. Here a series of side trails lead to viewpoints and I stopped at the “River View” for a late afternoon snack.

Then it was onward, passing the branch off to the boardwalk that leads to the Glenfinnan Memorial and turning south the follow the east shore of Loch Shiel.

By now it was early evening, the rain showers had dried up and it was wonderful. The forestry road is a bit of a slog but the views to the high peaks of Ardgour and Moidart made up for it. At the cottage of Geusachan I found the place had become an industrial complex with fish farming and generators droning away. I was glad to leave it behind and as I approached the forestry spotted a likely looking spot right by the water’s edge. With two streams flowing into the loch and good views it was here that I would pitch for the night.

It was a bit blowy as I got the tent up so I sheltered in the porch to cook dinner (soup, couscous, cheese and salami followed by tea and dark chocolate). As evening advanced the wind died down and I went to sit by the shore watching the light change over the water. This culminated in a beautifully subtle sunset that set the water off in hundreds of shades of pinks and oranges and purples.

I retired to my sleeping bag for another cuppa and to listen to some podcasts. Later on I went outside and found a glittering show of stars. It was calm by the water but a strong wind was teasing the clouds out over the tops of the hills. Back in the tent I snuggled up into my down cocoon and drifted off to sleep.

Saturday morning was chilly but utterly still and sunny. Deep in the trench of Loch Shiel I didn’t get the direct sunlight and slept in until an hour or two after sunrise. Rising I got water on for coffee and porridge and then poked my head out to look at the reflection of Beinn Odhar Beag in the loch. It was a stunning morning and the forecast was good for the rest of the day, at least until early evening when the wind would sift back to the west, increasing in strength and bringing with it a bucketload of Atlantic ocean!

Fuelled up I got packed away and started the brutal ascent of Meall a Coire Cruinn, one of the many peaks that rise up almost vertically out of the sea level loch. It was a tough clamber up heathery and grassy slopes, weaving hither and thither to avoid bands of crags, but the reward of attaining the ridge was seeing a white-tailed sea eagle take off and sweep down into the gloom of a coire.

Behind me the view over the loch to the rough peaks of Moidart was stunning and now ahead of me I was faced with the alpine north-west face of Sgurr Ghiubhsachain, the Corbett which had dominated the head of Cona Glen the day before.

The ridge was a jumble of crags and rocks but it was possible to thread a route through all this and only the final ascent to the summit shoulder was truly steep. For this I donned microspikes and shouldered my axe but the snow was soft and didn’t pose any problems.

I emerged to glorious views down Cona Glen all the way to Nevis and the Mamores. The final slope was a joyous scramble and then I was at the huge summit cairn under blue skies.

The views were incredible in all directions, not only to the Lochaber peaks near at hand, but further off to Creag Meagaidh, the Monadh Liath, and then towards Loch Arkaig and the peaks of Knoydart. In the south the land stretched out to the sea and in the distance the dark shape of Ben More on Mull stood out.

After a long break here I carried on my traverse of the hill, following easy ridge south to the next top of Meall nan lice. This offered more glorious views down Loch Shiel and also served as a good spot for lunch.

After this I dropped down some very steep slopes to the low bealach above the head of Cona Glen and then picked my way up the ridge of Drum Tarsuinn heading for my second Corbett of the day.

Despite the easier gradient there were still a few crags to manoeuvre around but the summit of Drum Tarsuinn (called Stob a’ Bhealach an Sgriodain by the OS) brought the reward of yet more views.

Further on I crossed my final top of the trip on Meall Mòr, stopping to look down to Cona Glen and then to Lochan Dubh nestled before Glen Scaddle.

There was a sustained drop down to the next bealach, during which I stopped to chat to a couple over from Fort William for a few nights, and then it was down incredibly steep slopes to reach the shores of Lochan Dubh.

The ascent was pathless except for very faint traces in the upper reaches and soon it became prudent just to carefully pick out the most likely way down and follow it, poles clutched tightly in hand.

Down by the lochan it was warmer and I stopped for a final break looking along the waters which were starting to be ruffled by that promised westerly wind. From here I made my way along the shore, occasionally picking up a track but more often than not boghopping.

Beyond the lochan the track became clearer and this made progress down into Glen Scaddle much quicker. As I reached the glen a footbridge took me across the burn and at the point where the two waters met I found an idyllic stretch of grass to pitch the tent.

Tent up I spent a time lazing in the sunshine. Unfortunately I soon found out that the idyllic site was also a bit of a hit with the local ticks. After evicting these from my trousers and noticing that big black clouds had gathered in the west I retired to the tent for dinner (super noodles, pasta, cheese, salami followed by tea and dark chocolate). By 8pm it was raining, hard, and so I resigned myself to an evening in the tent, reading some Murakami and listening to music.

The rain continued pretty constantly all night. At around 7 it slackened off and I roused myself with a mocha. As I was about to peer outside the tent it came on again harder than ever so I spent another hour reading. I packed everything up in the tent and then headed outside. Both rivers were now raging past and I soon got the tent away and strapped to the handy carry loops on the bottom of the pack.

The weather once I got going wasn’t actually too bad and with a nice easy walk down the glen ahead of me and the wind behind I made good progress. Occasional pauses to look back confirmed that there was plenty of dramatic weather in the hills today.

At the LRT crossing I took to the opposite bank of the river but then, rather than following the track as it headed into the forest, I attempted to follow the path marked on the OS map running close to the river. This proved a bit of a mistake as the path was very “aspirational” and I spent more time hopping along the firm riverbank than I did following its course.

It wasn’t bad though (although the path on the north bank is much firmer and clear as far as I could see) and I eventually rejoined the LRT for the final stretch through Glen Scaddle and back to the car. Although it rained off and on I got back largely dry. The glen had been dramatic with waterfalls raging down the high coires to the south and the high peaks behind shrouded in cloud with occasional bursts of blue sky.

After getting changed it was then a short drive down to the ferry which I missed thanks to a motley group of new born lambs and their mothers who were sauntering their way into Ardgour. A half hour later though I was across and soon driving back east through all sorts of weather to finally make it back to Aberdeen after a rewarding weekend.

Bring on the TGO Challenge!

My TGO Challenge 2013 Route

2013-04-12T20:38:00+01:00

The TGO Challenge was first held in 1980 (the brain-child of Hamish Brown) and is now one of the largest annual organised backpacking events in the world. Come the middle of May around 300 folk will set off to cross Scotland from west to east by whatever route they choose over the course of around two weeks.

I originally applied back in October but didn’t receive a confirmed place. I was put on the standby list and happily gained a place on this year’s Challenge at the beginning of March.

Just a few weeks later and I now have an approved route for this year’s Challenge. My route has been checked over by a veteran of the Challenge and given the green light. Happily my vetter was very positive about my submission, saying:

I am pleased to say that, apart from a couple of minor queries, your route appears to be very well thought out, very well presented and with generally safe and practical FWAs

Those minor queries have now been addressed and what follows is a brief overview of my route eastward through the Highlands of Scotland. You can view the route (and my proposed Foul Weather Alternative (FWA)) over on Social Hiking.

Click here to view my main route on OS mapping.

Click here to view my FWA on OS mapping.

Stage 1 - Plockton to Fort Augustus (5 days)

After crossing Scotland from east to west on the train and fueling up with a pub lunch at the Plockton Hotel I’ll set off from the picturesque west coast village heading eastward. The first day is a lowish route along tracks and paths and over some open, boggy ground to reach the River Ling for my first wild camp of the trip. This leads on to what should be a glorious day crossing the two Corbetts that rise above Killilan before dropping down to the end of Loch Mullardoch for a second wild camp.

Day three should be another great day with the high hills of western Glen Affric on the agenda. After a trio of Munros, including Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan, I’ll drop into Affric for a wild camp amongst stunning scenery. This then leads me to the Clunie Horseshoe on the fourth day with more Munro opportunities until I drop off the east end of the ridge and into Glen Doe. From a wild camp by the River Doe it should now be a fairly easy walk on the fifth day to take me east into Fort Augustus where I have a B&B booked for a night of R&R.

Stage 2 - Fort Augustus to Aviemore (3 days)

After a comfortable night in Fort Augustus I’ll set off into the Monadhliath Mountains stocked up with whatever delicacies I can find in the local grocery store. Many people choose to post themselves food to collect at campsites or hostels but I’m fairly sure I’ll survive well enough on store-bought couscous and pasta for a few days. Of course this food will be a bit bulkier and a bit heavier but the following stages are shorter so it shouldn’t be too much of a burden.

From Fort Augustus I now take a couple of nights to traverse the length of the high, rolling spine of the Monadhliath. Here there are a clutch of Munros and the odd Corbett to pick off but mainly it should be fabulous high level walking with very few paths going in my direction. My planned FWA takes me through the glens to the north and west that run through the heart of the range, but it is equally possible to drop down into Strathspey should conditions prove difficult.

On the third day I have a short run down into Aviemore where I have booked into the Youth Hostel and can restock on food (and beer).

Stage 3 - Aviemore to Ballater (3 days)

I now take a wandering route through the Cairngorms, first climbing up towards the Lairig Ghru before diverting off to climb Ben Macdui via Lurcher’s Crag. I then drop down to Glen Derry via Etchachan. On the second day I pass through Clas Fearnig, upper Glen Quoich and then head east along Glen Gairn to camp near Corndavon Lodge.

The third day takes me further along the Gairn before leaving the glen to traverse Geallaig and then drop into Ballater. After suitable refreshments and a restock I intend to cross the hills via the Mounth track and camp in upper Glen Tanar near the Mount Keen footbridge.

Stage 4 - Ballater to St Cyrus (3 days)

There now follows a couple of days of wandering the heathery hills of the Mounth, threading a path between bog and electric fence and crossing such iconic summits as the Hill of Cat, Tampie and Mount Battock.

A final camp on the hills above Edzell sets me up for a final tramp along minor roads to the east coast at St Cyrus.

The total is about 270 miles with plenty of height gain and some big days along the way. There are some familiar places and plenty of new mountains and glens to explore. Who knows what the weather will throw at the Challengers this year, but if it turns foul I have a lower route worked out that largely parallels the above. It will mean missing out on summits but hopefully (especially for the western hills) the sun will shine, winds will be light and I’ll spend many glorious up high. I’m really looking forward to setting off!

Loch Kinord

2013-03-21T20:38:00+00:00

Date: 17th March 2013
Distance: 10.26km
Ascent: 65m
Hills: None
Weather: Very cold, snow and sleet.
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

Out beyond Aboyne the road is rapidly turning white, a layer of slush forming as fat flakes of snow fall from a uniform grey sky. An estate landrover in polished racing green storms past me. At Dinnet the car park is empty, the potholes filled with a soupy slush. I’m soon heading off, the shelter of the forest a welcome respite from the snow. The world is white. At the first lochan, the surface is completely frozen and the trees have a strange and ethereal look as they flicker behind the mist. The track is waymarked and easy. Snow over slush over mud. Loch Kinord comes into sight and I sweep right, following narrow tracks that hug the shore.

I’m warm but a mixture of ice and snow is rapidly covering my outer wear and my pack. The track weaves in and out of trees and reeds, sometimes getting lost in a swampy morass. Eventually it swings away from an increasingly tangled shoreline to rejoin the main path that takes me along past the crannog isle and then up to the Celtic stone.

At this western end of the loch the path runs on a course through the foothills, twisting and turning through groves of Beech. The loch is some way away, occasionally glimpsed through a break in the trees. I pass the Burn o’ Vat car park and decide to head up to the Vat itself. Untrodden paths take me quickly there, my feet squeaking softly in the freshly falling snow. The Vat is empty of people but not of water. I clamber across the stones to reach the falls, the water sluicing down mossy rocks in a noisy torrent.

I follow the upper path back to the visitor centre and rejoin the Loch Kinord circular trail. There is another stretch away from the lochside and now I am following in the tracks of a pair of cyclists. It’s not quite a Winnie the Pooh adventure. Along the southern shore the path heads back to the lochside. I stop for a final time to gaze out across the glassy waters. Things are a bit clearer now and a few waterfowl disturb the waters further out.

With the circuit complete I follow the easy track quickly back to Dinnet. Everywhere in the village is shut but a short drive takes me to Ballater where The Bothy welcomes me with a roaring stove, a fabulous bacon roll, and several large mugs of coffee. I settle down with a good book and while away the rest of my Sunday morning, watching as rain streams down beyond the misted window.

A Round of Loch an Daimh

2013-03-16T20:38:00+00:00

Date: 2nd-3rd March 2013
Distance: 34.66km
Ascent: 1,917m
Hills: Stuchd an Lochain (Munro), Sron a’ Choire Chnapanaich (Corbett), Meall Buidhe (Corbett), Meall Buidhe (Munro)
Weather: Mild air temperatures but snow underfoot, occasional breaks in high cloud.
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

A couple of years ago Fraser put up his report of a weekend trip around Loch an Daimh in Highland Perthshire and I immediately added the round to my to-do list. From this initial idea I spread out the map and picked out a slightly extended route that, rather than dropping to the end of the loch to camp as Fraser had, stayed high so that the addition of the two Corbetts was possible without much loss of height. I had a few vague ideas for camp spots but decided to see how far I got on the day and then make a final decision as to whether to camp higher up or find a more sheltered spot lower down.

After a bit of faffing I was on the road by 9am and despite numerous diversions arrived at the end of Loch an Daimh at almost exactly midday. The drive up Glen Lyon is glorious and only gets better as you get further in. I’d previously been down here in May 2009 to climb the four Munros above Invervar. The drive from Aberdeen had been sunny but by Aberfeldy the cloud, coming in from the west, had taken over and it was chilly at the 400m high dam road where I parked up.

After a sandwich and a hot drink I got my kit sorted, finding a cunning way to attach my crampon bag to my backpack, and then heading off along the metalled road which loops up through the woods below the Giorra dam to eventually emerge right on the lip of the reservoir. Still largely frozen, the loch provided a smooth grey backdrop to the initial steep climb up to the eastern ridge of Creag an Fheadain. This climb was the toughest part of the whole trip. Ice covered the well-worn track and so I scrambled up on tussock and heather beside it until I reached the snowline.

Although sets of deep bootprints arced up skyward from here I decided to put my crampons on and swapped out my walking poles for the axe. Below me there was nothing to stop a fall until the loch waters. Properly equipped I safely made the ascent of the upper slopes to reach the ridge. A steep climb up compacted snow brought me to the bleak summit of Creag an Fheadain where I got my first view of Stuchd an Lochain, the summit cone wreathed in cloud.

There followed an enjoyable wander around the lip of the coire, admiring the impressive cornices and wondering whether the cloud would shift at all. Finally, as I plodded up another steep snow slope to the summit it did indeed and though there was still mist around, the views opened up with the skeletal forms of snow-streaked mountains emerging all around.

The summit of Stuchd an Lochain, my first Munro of 2013, was a quiet place and I took some time to snack and hydrate, peering out through the mist to the great cornices which hung over the northern edge. The north ridge of the mountain looks fun and away to the west the rest of the day’s route was unfolding.

On the southern and western slopes there was barely any snow and so freed from the crampons I made quick progress down to the minor top of Meallan Odhar. On the way the sun briefly appeared and this certainly lifted the spirit. Ahead of me I could see across Rannoch Moor to the gates of Glencoe.

After Meallan Odhar there is a deep cut-in as a narrow coire rises up from the loch to a bealach. I wound my way across to the bealach where I found it sheltered and with plenty of flowing water. This then would be my backup plan for a pitch. However with plenty of daylight remaining I now ascended the long slope of the Corbett Sron a’ Choire Chnapanaich enjoying the views back up Loch an Daimh and back across to Stuchd an Lochain.

The weather was now closing back in again and as the mist started to fall I took a bearing off the Corbett, heading for the next bealach which would lead me on to a smaller summit that should have a commanding view over Loch Lyon. This was my planned camp spot. In the hollow the snow was deep and soft but I was soon climbing up to the flat summit of Creag a’ Chaorainn where a number of cairns all seemed to be highest.

As the cloud returned any breeze seemed to have dropped and so it was easy to locate a flatish pitch for the tent, just beyond the summit and with a view down Loch Lyon a couple of paces from the door. Just as I got the tent up a sleety drizzle started up and so I quickly gathered some water a got inside to enjoy a cup of hot chocolate.

Later, after dinner, and as a soft orange glow spread out from the Central Belt, a gap in the clouds gave me an opportunity to take my mat and sleeping bag outside and lie down gazing up into a starry sky.

The night was utterly still and so I slept with the door open and tied back. Another patch of drizzle must have passed through sometime before dawn because the ground was sodden when I finally roused, woken by the diffuse light rather than my alarm. Coffee and porridge were consumed watching mist drift over Loch Lyon and by 8am I was packed and away for a long day heading along the north side of Loch an Daimh.

The conditions were looking promising, with some cloud clinging to the higher tops but a weak sun already starting to find its way through chinks in the cloud. From my overnight spot I had a brief descent down snowy slopes before picking up a rib of the next Corbett, Meall Buidhe which sits at the extreme western end of the circuit. The going was easy and warmed me up nicely as the sun developed over the Mamlorns above Loch Lyon.

Gaining the ridge brought new views of the Loch an Daimh hills and over a Rannoch Moor covered in drifting cloud. I headed west and then turned south for the summit of the Corbett.

I had a snack, watching a couple of Ptarmigan wandering around on the snow patches and enjoying the increasingly sunny views to the Bridge of Orchy Hills and the more distant Black Mount. A few snow showers drifted over the Mamlorns and there was a cold feel to the air.

I picked my way carefully off Meall Buidhe, drifting westward to avoid cornicing and crags on the slopes immediately above the stream that would eventually fall into Loch an Daimh. The cloud over Rannoch Moor was lifting and soon there seemed to be blue skies all around, including to the east where I could follow the line of the hills off to Meall Buidhe.

The low temperatures meant the ground was firm and I made good progress across the heather. Occasionally a track would appear only to disappear at the next band of rocky ground. Ahead of me the views to the previous day’s hills were developing.

The rounded summit of Creag Riabhach was reached and now the views were developing northward to the hills around Loch Ericht. Closer by the trench of Loch an Daimh now gave views across to the shapely summit of Stuchd an Lochain. A happy snack break was taken watching amber sunlight dance and weave across Rannoch Moor, teasing me with views of the Buchaille.

The next summit was Meall Cruinn, which required a diversion from the track which was now much clearer as I approached the Munro. The flat summit of Meall Buidhe seemed close at hand now although in reality there was still plenty of heathery ups and downs to negotiate.

My route now took a large, mostly unnecessary zig-zag as I crossed to a top off to the north first, and then one to the south. From the former I got views of the end of Loch Rannoch whilst the later provided the first expansive views of this side of Loch an Daimh.

Soon though I was back on course, and was soon making my way up the final slopes to join the trade route on Meall Buidhe. All of a sudden, and after 24 hours of seeing no-one, there were people everywhere!

I made my way along the gentle ground to Meall Buidhe’s summit cairn. Here the draw of this otherwise unremarkable summit was immediately recognised as I spun 360 degrees to marvel at a panorama of mountain scenery. Schiehallion off to the east, Ben Alder to the north, Glencoe beyond Rannoch Moor to the west and south to the Crianlarich Hills and Lawers group. It was fabulous.

The way back to the car was now straightforward, following the bagger’s route off the south side of the hill to descend almost directly to the car back at the dam. On the way I chatted to a couple of folk, including a fellow Aberdonian and bumped into the famous Collie, Molly, the first dog to climb all the Corbetts.

Otherwise the descent, on springy turf following an easy track, was straightforward and I enjoyed the developing views of Loch an Daimh as I got lower down.

Back at the car it was good to change out of my heavy boots (the crampons hadn’t been worn again since the ascent the previous day!) and then head homeward, the sound of the new Frightened Rabbit accompanying me along the twists and turns of Glen Lyon.

The Fairy Glen and Upper Gairn

2013-02-24T20:38:00+00:00

Date: 16-17th February 2013
Distance: 27.48km
Ascent: 805m
Time: 5 hrs 40 mins
Hills: None
Weather: Mild air temperatures but snow underfoot, chill wind, low clouds.
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

I have no qualms about labelling myself as a fair-weather hiker, and perhaps even more so, a fair-weather backpacker. The thought of a spending a restless night in a tent being thrown about by gusting winds or lashed by rain really doesn’t appeal. And so it was that several weekends in January and February were dismissed for one weather-related reason or another. Eventually though there was a hint of something better in the forecast, with milder temperatures and gentler winds promised I packed up my camping gear and headed for the Cairngorms. With just an afternoon and a morning available I chose a straightforward circular route from Keiloch on the A93 a few miles east of Braemar. An overnight camp would break up the 18 miles quite nicely and would give me an opportunity to try some mild winter camping.

The drive was was sunny with scraps of grey snow piled up next to the road the only sign of the past few weeks of heavy snowfall, low temperatures and gale-force winds. From Keiloch I followed the estate tracks through Invercauld enjoying the pleasant air. So much so that I missed a turning and ended up on the wrong side of the glen. After a steep descent and a brief toe-wetting crossing of the Slugain Water I was back on course and heading up the glen.

Rapidly I left behind the mild woods and out in the exposed country there was a chilly wind and deep snow. Nevertheless I made good progress and by 4pm had reached my intended camp spot, a flat, sheltered spot in the narrow upper-reaches of the glen where the vehicle track becomes a path and everything feels that bit wilder.

I had fun pitching the tent. I stamped out a platform in the snow and then set about trying to get my pegs to hold in the slushy snow. It was easy to dig all the way down to terra firma but the earth was iron-hard and unyielding to titanium. Therefore I ended up forming some makeshift dead men which, with a little work-hardening of the snow, were secure enough to get a decently tight pitch. I soon settled in with a coffee and a book to watch as the light slowly faded. As sunset approached a blush of colour tinged the sky but soon enough the low cloud was back and it looked unlikely I would get any opportunities for stargazing.

After a cozy night I was up before dawn and following a warming breakfast of coffee and porridge headed off up the glen just as a grey, monochrome daylight broke over the hills.

The path was covered in consolidated snow but it yielded easily to my boots and I made quick progress up to the Slugain Ruin where another couple of campers were just waking up (I had seen their headlamps bobbing up the glen the previous evening after nightfall). I continued on past the frozen lochan and up to the watershed where there were expansive views out over the Quoich to the mist-shrouded slopes of Beinn a’ Bhuird.

The low cloud made this high moorland more wild and lonely feeling than usual and it was comforting to found the occassional traces of a track as I headed first north towards Ben Avon before turning eastward to climb up towards the watershed that leads to Glen Gairn. The burbling of the grouse was the only sound that broke the silence in this wild, lonely place.

Beyond the watershed the path was difficult to follow and I ended up weaving up and down and around hillocks and through deep drifting slow until I reached the narrowing in Glen Gairn where the preciptious slopes of Cairn Liath and Ben Avon almost meet and where I finally picked up the track again.

Here I crossed the Gairn for the first time as the track took to the eastern bank and then passed below the steep slopes of Cairn Liath. There were occassional traces of avalanche runout but the slopes were largely stripped of snow. At path level there was still plenty to negotiate but the track was easy to follow.

In the narrow glen the chill wind was channelled unpleasantly and so it was good to get into the more open part of Glen Gairn where, after crossing the river again, I made further progress eastward before stopping for some food.

With restored energy levels I now made my way along the glen, following a track which was snow-covered in places, and just muddy in others. Whenever a side stream crossed the path I was at risk of dropping several feet through slushy snow and into the water below. Eventually I took to crossing these areas on all fours! I was glad to finally reach the bridge which marked the point at which I would start heading south to complete the loop.

On the other side a track headed south towards the Bealach Dubh but at some point I made a wrong decision and ended up doing a stretch of cross country until I finally picked up the narrow line of the track which climbed up to the high point.

The saddle between Culardoch brought with it spectacular views of the White Mounth, just starting to catch sun as the clouds broke. Lochnagar was shrouded in cloud but as I followed the vehicle track south more and more of the hills emerged until I was looking at a vast panorama of the Deeside hills.

Morrone was visible and then Lochnagar’s summit finally emerged from the cloud. Soon the sunlight reached me and as I dropped towards the head of Glen Feadar I was removing layers and thoroughly enjoying the views all around.

The first hints of blue sky appeared over Cairn Liath behind me as I wound my way up towards the col below Meikle Gorm. The track was snow covered and the passage of quad bikes made the going a little tough but soon I started to reach stretches of woodland where the shelter meant the track was free of snow.

There were now views westward down Glen Dee and back towards Slugain and Carn na Drochaide. The track emerged from the woods and the snow seemed to be even deeper than before on this sheltered side of the hills. Eventually though I reached the Invercauld woods and swiftly dropped down through the pine-needle littered slopes to reach the estate road.

A short stretch of tarmac brought me back to the car where the pleasant temperatures followed me back to Aberdeen after a short but pleasant outing.

An Arctic Day On Peter Hill

2013-01-18T20:38:00+00:00

Date: 13th January 2013
Distance: 15.39km
Ascent: 632m
Time: 5 hrs
Hills: Peter Hill
Weather: High winds, snow, incredible windchill.
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

Breathing deeply into my pile and pertex collar tightly wrapped around my mouth and nose I trudged up the track, following a single pair of footprints up the snowy hillside. The sky was a deep, unblemished grey, like that in a black and white photograph. I paused a minute and looked back. There was no-one.

Spindrift was being torn off the hillside and flung angrily across the path behind me. Footprints were being quickly covered. Still no-one. I half turned but then, shadowy figures, first one, then two, then a line of folk, emerged from the tumult. It was like a scene out of a polar expedition. Their clothing streaked with white, hoods pulled tight down to shield the eyes. We were at 300m asl on the side of a gentle hill in Aberdeenshire, just a few miles from Banchory.

After two long hours of toil we reached the 617m high summit of Peter Hill. A trig point coated in rime ice and a forlorn trailer hitched to nothing but the sky. In the teeth of the gale we tried to formulate a plan. People were hungry and, once stopped, found themselves cooling down rapidly. We sought shelter on the leeside of the slope where food and hot drinks were consumed with stiff fingers.

A summit meeting. A decision, to head back down. Discretion the better part of valour. The next part of our planned route would be nearly 5 miles of trackless peat bog and undistinguished summits to get us to Mount Battock. It would have taken hours and with January daylight already at a premium it was sensible not to even try.

Following the worn groove of our upward march we made a rapid descent, glad of the wind which was now at our backs. Without stinging spindrift forcing our gaze down we could look out over the stormy hills of lower Deeside, dark rolling shapes with white caps. Within an hour we were back at the roadside where we had started. Now, with the coach a few miles away we had to start our tarmac walk. Some brave souls dragged their feet all the way round to Banchory, some 8 miles from the bottom of Peter Hill whilst others stopped at the (closed) Feughside Inn to wait for the coach.

It was a cold, long afternoon but eventually we were whisked away to a more welcoming establishment and were defrosting over a pint or two in Banchory. It wasn’t the day we had planned but was nevertheless an interesting (and at times invigorating) experience. Just another facet of this long winter and one that will hopefully at least pay for one good day of shimmering, crystalline snow under polarised blue skies.

Hogmanay Hoolie Above Glen Ernan

2013-01-04T20:38:00+00:00

Date: 2nd January 2013
Distance: 17.48km
Ascent: 544m
Time: 4 hrs 30 mins
Hills: Cairn Vachich, Gael Charn, Carn Mor
Weather: Early rain giving way to sunshine. Very gusty wind. Mild.
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

The first hillwalk of 2013 started amidst wind and rain as Dave and I headed down Glen Ernan from a start just off the main Strathdon road. Thirty minutes later we were peeling back sodden hoods to gaze up in amazement at the blue sky that had appeared overhead. The glen, at first wide and fertile, narrowed and started twisting about the feet of the encroaching hills. We stopped for a snack and then pressed on, following the easy track until we reached the shiel in the upper glen. This turned out to be a rather smart estate building and attendant bothy, both freshly painted but sadly locked.

Here we forded the burn and followed the vehicle track west up icy slopes and then across short heather, scattering snow-white mountain hares, to reach the summit of Carn Vachich where we enjoyed panoramic views. Our eyes were drawn to the snowy bulwark of Ben Avon, its top shrouded in cloud but sun catching its glistening flanks. Close by the ski paraphernalia at the Lecht could be seen and to the south were the hills above the Gairnshiel road, the snaking tarmac reflecting the low winter sun.

By clever design (or by sheer luck - you decide) we were now heading back towards the car with the gusting wind behind us. A network of estate tracks criss-cross these hills but we mainly stuck to the pathless ridgeline, heading south to Gael Charn. A dark cloud over the Ladder hills bypassed us to the east and more of the Cairngorms became visible as the weather blew through.

The shelter on Gael Charn proved draughty and unstable so we enjoyed lunch outside it in the sunshine where, hunkered down, we were out of the wind. From here we followed the surprisingly distinct ridge towards the giant cairn on Carn Mor. We now had views to a cloud-capped Morven away to the south.

This final hill was guarded by a steep descent and re-ascent but eventually the cairn was reached and its sheltered side gave us a chance to look at the map and decide on a way down. Rather than backtrack to an easy path we decided to continue along the ridge, soon dropping into a sparse pine wood which then gave out to thigh-deep trackless heather and low growing conifers that slowed our pace.

On the far side of the last rise we picked out a route down to the woods above the main road. Out of the wind it was very warm and we were glad to come across a narrow track which dropped through the trees and eventually brought us to the main road and so back to the car.

We stopped off at the quirky Mossatburn Tea Room for a spot of cake and a great big pot of a tea served by the cheerful proprietress. We drove back to Aberdeen in the golden hour as the low sun set over the hills, a light mist playing in the hollows, and the Loch of Skene looking dazzling.

An excellent way to blow away the cobwebs of Christmas and New Year and get a new year of hills off to a fine start.

2012 in the Scottish Hills

2012-12-31T09:38:00+00:00

Another December has come around, bringing with it a series of Atlantic lows rather than a Mayan apocalypse. No real surprises then. Though there was a fine, cold period of weather at the beginning of the month it looks like the year will end as it started; mild and stormy.

I’ve had a fantastic year in the hills and mountains of Scotland. In 2012 I focused on extending my backpacks into multi-day routes completing a number of successful three-day trips and one longer four-day trip, all of which took me to interesting new parts of the country and saw me bagging a number of new Munros.

In June I brought the hillwalking and backpacking parts of my Inverted World website across to this site. I’m really pleased with the look and feel of The Mountain’s Silhouette, which runs on the Octopress blogging platform, and I will be working to develop the site further in 2013.

Thank you to everyone who has supported the new site and who has commented or shared my posts through Twitter, Facebook and other sites.

Hillbagging

My aim with increasing the amount of backpacking trips this year was to boost my Munro count and get me to the halfway point (282, now that Beinn a’Chlaidheimh has been confirmed as a Corbett). However, though I made a good start, as in past years the weather seemed to deteriorate after the early summer and trips later in the year failed to deliver the number of new summits I was hoping for. Nevertheless I bagged 39 Munros, 23 of which were new. This has increased my total to 138 Munros, just 4 short of the halfway point.

Favourite new Munros included the remote Ben Alder, north of Rannoch Moor, visited as part of three day backpack taking in a grand total of eight Munros.

The awesome Beinn a’ Choire Sheasgaich, with its fabulous scrambly northern slope, lived up to expectations as part of a three day trip in the Attadale Hills.

And it was the worth all the repeat visits to finally get a view from Braeriach on a wonderful August day as part of a round of the western Cairngorms.

Over the course of 2012 I covered almost 800km and climbed over 36,000m. Below are my distance and ascent by month for 2012.

Wild Camping and Backpacking Trips

2012 was the year where I truly embraced backpacking and camping in the wild places. I spent thirteen nights in my tent, besides streams and lochs, camped on summits, in the snow and wind and rain, and in glorious sunshine. I awoke high above the clouds and surrounded by a world of snow and ice. I saw sunsets and sunrises and saw the planets align and the Milky Way arc overhead. I found my camp routine and only had one really bad midge experience.

Here are a few photos and thoughts from my favourite backpacking trips of the year.

Blair Atholl to Aviemore

I took advantage of the unseasaonably warm late March weather to do my first two-night backpacking trip. I took the train from Aberdeen to Blair Atholl and then started heading north. From Glen Tilt I climbed my first Munro and then headed over to camp on a saddle below the summit of a neighbouring Corbett. After waking up to a hazy cloud inversion I made my way north through remote country, picking up another Corbett and three more Munros around the Tarf before dropping down to camp besides the upper River Feshie. It was an idyllic evening for star gazing. The final day took me north up the River Eidart and then across the western Cairngorm plateau to bag two more Munros with stunning views of Loch Einich. After a long ridgewalk there was a fun descent and then it was through the Rothiemurchas forest to reach the train station at Aviemore after a long day in unrelenting sunshine.

Read more about this trip here

The Attadale Hills

The trip started with hot soup and a cake at Achnashellach, watching snow showers playing out over the mountains. Nevertheless I walked in under sunny skies and only a brief snow flurry on the first Corbett dampened the day. Walking along Beinn Tarsuinn’s summit plateau brought stunning views of the Attadale hills and then I found a stunning high camp near the unnamed lochan with views to Lurg Mhor and Bidein a’ Choire Sheasgaich. The next morning I scrambled up the stunning north wall of Cheesecake, gaining my first Munro summit, and then contoured around to Lurg Mhor. More scrambling got me to the eastern top and then it was an interesting descent to the shore of Loch Monar where I camped. The next morning good weather and further snow took me back high for another Munro before I decided to head back to the car with bad weather moving in.

Read more about this trip here

Ben Alder

Stepping off the train at the remote Corrour station halt is a fantastic way to start a three day adventure. I climbed above Loch Ossian and bagged a couple of Munros before dropping down to camp besides the Uisige Labhair. The next day was fabulous and I covered 20km and 6 Munros, including the stunning Ben Alder. The end of the day saw me camp high on the shoulder of Beinn Eibhinn enjoing stunning views out across the Highlands. The sunset was magnificent and sunrise the next morning was just as good. I headed out to Fersit by way of the still waters of Ghuilbinn and it was only as I was reaching the car that the good weather truly broke.

Read more about this trip here

The Western Cairngorms

A uni friend, Rich, came up for a spot of bagging in the Cairngorms. From Whitewell we wandered through the misty Rothiemurchas eventually climbing above the cloud as we came to the Lairig Ghru. Under stunning blue skies I finally (third time lucky) got the glorious views from the summit of Braeriach. We made our way along the high cliffs to eventually make camp below the Devil’s Point. Heavy rain showers drifted in and out through the afternoon. That evening as Team GB were winning multiple Olympic golds we stood on the summit of the Devil’s Point. The next day started cloudy but we headed around to the Moine Mor and then across to Sgor Gaoith as the sun reappeared. After walking along the ridge we were caught by the rain again which was torrential until long after we had made it to the pub in Aviemore.

Read more about this trip here

Glenfinnan to Glen Cluanie

The year’s big trip was cut short my a combination of weather and other committments but I still thoroughly enjoyed my four day backpack. From Glenfinnan station I completed the horseshoe of two Munros above the glen before dropping down to camp below Streap. Waking to wind and rain I took my foul weather route through Glen Dessary and then down to Sourlies and Loch Nevis. The weather brightened up and I headed up the River Carnach to eventually camp in the shadows of Knoydart. The third day saw me ascending Luinne Bheinn for the stunning views out over Knoydart and the west coast and then heading out via Barrisdale along Loch Hourn. A storm system came in overnight and I spent the last day fighting wind and rain below the South Shiel ridge to eventually reach my car at the Cluanie Inn.

Read more about this trip here

Targets

I unofficially set myself some targets last year. Here is a review of how I did…

Visit Fisherfield - completed in June with a through-walk from Corrie Hallie near Dundonnel to Kinlochewe via Sheneval, the Fionn Loch and Loch Maree. Next up will be a return to climb the Fisherfield Munros and Corbetts.
Visit Knoydart - completed in August. I climbed Luinne Bheinn as part of my Glenfinnan to Glen Cluanie backpack. A glorious day in Knoydart but forecast bad weather meant I didn’t have time to linger and fully explore.
Visit an Island (not Skye) - not completed this year. Jura is high on my list for next year.
Complete a walk of 100 miles or 7 days - not completed. For various reasons I had to delay my planned long walk, originally intended for June, to August. Then I had to cut that down to 5 days to meet other obligations and finally bad weather caused me to finish the hike a day early…! I’m still pleased I did a 4 day/50 mile hike (whilst my longest backpack in 2012 was a 56 miler from Blair Atholl to Aviemore over two and a half days) and in general I pushed my trips further and longer this year, doing a few 2 night trips as well as a decent number of overnighters. Next year I have time booked off work to commit to a longer walk, up to 2 weeks.

Other People’s Trips

Some highlights for me from other people’s blogs of Scottish trips included Ness64’s Affric to the West Coast , David Lintern’s visits to Skye and later Knoydart, Paul Salmond’s adventures above Affric, Geoff C’s circuit of the Etive mountains, Fraser’s trip to Lochnagar and James’ wander along Jura’s wild coast.

Next Year

Reach 182 Munros (i.e. 100 to go!) Mountains on my radar are the Far North Munros, the Fisherfield Munros, the rest of Knoydart and some of the big hills in the southwest such as Ben Cruachan and Ben Starav.
Visit an Island
Complete a continuous walk of more than 100 miles
Camp every month of the year (January may be tricky depending on the weather!)

Finally, don’t forget you can read about all my 2012 trips by visiting the reports page, and view photos on Flickr by visiting this 2012 collection. Thanks again for visiting.

The Glenlivet Hills

2012-12-01T09:38:00+00:00

Date: 25th November 2012
Distance: 27.45km
Ascent: 1,077m
Time: 6 hrs 30 mins
Hills: Carn na Bruar, Cook’s Cairn (Graham), Corryhabbie Hill (Corbett)
Weather: Early sunshine giving way to cloudy but dry conditions. Very cold wind.
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

The car was cosily warm after the drive over from Aberdeen and it took until the sun crested the distant hills for me to reluctantly leave behind its easy comforts. The temperature showed a chilly −1^oC. The grass crunched underfoot as I pulled on every conceivable item of warm clothing I had brought across with me and started on my way down the Livet Path.

Once moving I warmed up nicely, and the pleasant sunrise provided some stunning illumination of a sparkling world. After overcoming a few navigational challenges I was on the right track, walking along besides the River Livet and enjoying the peace and quiet of this early morning.

After crossing the Livet the track continued on the west bank of the river, moving away from the farmhouses and into more open countryside. Before I reached the shadow cast by the hills I stopped for a hot drink and some food, gazing out over the Braes of Glenlivet as the sun lit up the frosty heathery and bog.

After passing the turn off for the Smugglers Route to Burnside of Thain I turned the corner into the narrower upper reaches of the Glen with the abandoned farmhouse of Suie visible further up the slope. This is now the route of both the Steplar and Glenfiddich Road.

The broad track forded the Kymah Burn at this point but I continued on, following a fainter track to reach the bridge over the stream just at the empty farmhouse of Knochkan.

A faint path continued up the Livet, staying close to the River. As I climbed higher into the glen the ground became increasingly boggy and the path was soon lost amongst heather and grasses. A high deer face provided an easy line to follow and eventually I found a gate through it that permitted me access to the slopes beyond Carn an Bruar.

Eventually I climbed up through heather to join a faint track that climbed up to the plateau high above the River Livet. This opened up a view of a vast, rolling countryside stretching out to the hills of Cabrach and Rhynie. My original plan had been to turn here and climb Carn an Bruar but on inspecting the map I couldn’t resist the idea of heading over to a hill called Kneedeep.

A traverse across boggy ground, thankfully frozen, brought me gently up to this obscure and unmarked summit which enjoyed fine views out over the Blackwater forest and to the Buck of Cabrach.

From Kneedeep I now made my way through rough heather north to cross the deep trench carved by the Allt na Craoibhe-cuilinn as it flowed down to join the Blackwater. Once on the other side it was then an easy pull up to the summit of Carn na Bruar through peat hags and frozen bogs as the views out over the Braes of Glenlivet and the cloudy Cairngorms opened up.

From the vantage point overlooking Glenlivet and Glen Suie I headed along the plateau to another set of cairns which gave excellent views to the day’s next hill, Cook’s Cairn. This was easily reached by a high bealach where I joined a vehicle track coming up from Glen Suie (the Steplar).

Leaving the main track heading over to the Blackwater a fainter track took me up to the summit of Cook’s Cairn with the views back out over the Cairngorms opening up.

Despite giving its name to the hill the cairn was not that substantial and there was a cold wind blowing at this point. Thankfully the sun was just about shining through increasingly thick high cloud and so a chilly lunch was consumed looking out across these big rolling hills.

My next target was Corryhabbie Hill, perched across the far side of upper Gle Suie. Steep heathery slopes on the north side of Cook’s Cairn were carefully descended and then there was a boggy section to cross before regaining the landrover track (the Glenfiddich Road). A branch took me immediately up the hillside, a series of switchbacks gaining me height with relative ease as the views back down Glen Suie developed.

As I approached the plateau the world turned increasingly snowy with a thin, frosty layer covering track and surrounding heather. Beinn Rinnes came into view to the north east. Eventually I reached the junction with Morton’s Way which heads north towards Glenfiddich. I turned south, and soon reached the large structure marking the top of Corryhabbie Hill. Inside a large stone cairn was a trig point, with, a metal hat on!

Again there was a chill wind blowing and with the sun sinking towards the horizon it was much colder than my spot at lunch. I had just a short break to have another hot drink and some chocolate before continuing on.

By this time the cloud swathed over the Cairngorms was breaking up and I could start to see the individual peaks emerging, clad in their Alpine raiment. Ahead of me snaked the Carn an t-Suidhe ridge which would lead me back to Glenlivet.

After an initial boggy section I soon reached close cropped heather and this allowed for easy progress along the ridge. Eventually I reached the final cairn and stopped for a few minutes to admire the sweeping views out over the Cairngorms. It is a magnificent viewpoint.

Then it was a case of picking my way downhill, aiming all the time for the bridge that I had crossed earlier in the day. The going was good and as I got closer to the river I picked up a faint trail which led me directly back to the track.

As the high cloud thickened and lowered the day came to an end in a gloomy, grey sort of way. It was still cold though and I was glad to quickly cover the last mile and get back to the car. There didn’t seem much prospect of a sunset so I was soon on the road and heading home. Of course, in my rear view mirror the most amazing sunset appeared a few minutes later, the very lowest clouds burning a bright red. I stopped the car to get a final shot before darkness descended.

Carn Liath & Bynack Lodge

2012-11-17T09:38:00+00:00

Date: 11th November 2012
Distance: 21.62km
Ascent: 665m
Time: 7 hrs 30 mins
Hills: Carn Liath
Weather: Early sunshine giving way to cloudy but dry conditions. Very cold wind.
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

Sunday morning dawned cold and clear in Aberdeen. A close conjunction of Venus and the waning Moon hung low in the eastern sky as I walked to the meeting point for the November Stocket hillwalk. There a gathering of Stockets was lacking only one thing: a coach. After a couple of phone calls the confusion was sorted out and twenty-five minutes later we were on a warm coach heading west down Deeside under beautiful morning skies. Pockets of frost and a low running river were both remarked on.

At Inverey we jumped off the coach, heading a short distance further down the road before turning onto a forest track just before Muir Cottage. The tall pines had dropped an orange carpet of pine needles and we followed the track which climbs quite steeply up the hillside. Blue skies were glimpsed above the trees and the oranges and reds of autumn were lit up by the sunshine. It was remarkably pleasant after the chilly start to the day.

Out of the forest the clear track turned into a boggy set of vehicle tracks through the heather. On the first summit we paused to regroup and then continued west slightly to find a place to stop and mark remembrance Sunday. The views had opened up by now with Ben Avon and Beinn a’ Bhuird snow-covered under brilliant blue skies and the central Cairngorms sitting under cloud.

At 11am we stopped to observe two minutes of silence, looking out over the Cairngorms as snow flurries swept up the Geldie and shrouded the Lairig Ghru.

The ridge provided easy walking; short clipped heather and a clear track at times. Though we were walking into the wind it wasn’t unpleasant and we made good progress along the ridge to Carn Liath, all of the time watching as the view into the Lairig Ghru developed. Finally we climbed the final gentle slope to the grey, bouldery summit of the day’s high point.

We enjoyed the blustery views out to Beinn a’ Ghlo in the south and then further west and north across the Tarf Munros to the meandering line of the Geldie and the high rolling hills of the Cairngorms.

The bitter wind didn’t encourage much hanging around on this exposed summit and so after a brief pause we headed south, descending to the bealach at the head of the Allt Cristie Beag.

We contoured around and onto the ridge leading to Buchaille Breage, hopping bogs and watching as a large herd of deer started to get wind of our scent. They streamed away north towards the Geldie as we approached. The view north continued to be outstanding with our position now giving us a clear view up the river Dee to the Devil’s Point standing guard before the Lairig Ghru.

From Buchaille Breag there were just another couple of heathery summits to cross and then we were standing at the final cairn of the day, looking south towards Beinn a’ Ghlo as a weak sun struggled to penetrate the clouds.

The descent was initially steep but then we picked up an easy grassy ramp that I had spotted on a previous visit to this area. We quickly got down to the stream which was easily forded without getting feet wet. It was then a short walk along the track to reach the ruins of Bynack Lodge and our lunch stop.

Suitably refreshed after sandwiches consumed whilst leaning against the ruined walls of the lodge we now headed north, first fording the Bynack Burn and then the more difficult Geldie Burn. Neither was particularly fast flowing but the water was up to knee high in places and very, very cold.

It was now the easy amble out, first to White Bridge and then along the northern bank of the Dee back to where the coach was waiting near the Linn. The sun sank lower and although there wasn’t much of a sunset the peace and quiet that descended over the glen certainly made for a pleasant end to the day.

After a pleasant pint in front of a roaring log fire at the Fife Arms in Braemar we were back on the coach for a quick drive back to Aberdeen.

Book Review: The Only Genuine Jones by Alex Roddie

2012-11-10T09:16:00+00:00

Alex Roddie’s new novel is a whirlwind ride through an alternate vision of late-Victorian mountaineering. Sweeping across Europe from the sooty streets of Cambridge to the glistening great north faces of the Alps it is a tightly-plotted thriller revolving around a fierce climbing rivalry and the dawn of a new era as innovative technical equipment opens up the possibility of bold new routes.

Following the ups and downs of O. G. Jones, a gifted English climber at the forefront of the Progressive Mountaineering movement, the novel imagines a climbing world transformed by ice axes and crampons embraced many years earlier than in reality. This turns a new wave of mountain exploration into a bitter, dangerous battle between several young climbers eager to push the sport to new heights.

The book has a number of strengths and I particularly enjoyed the brisk plot, the cast of historical characters and the fascinating, flawed hero, O.G. Jones. Anyone with even a passing interest in the history of British mountaineering will recognise the names Collie, Raeburn and Crowley to name but three. The settings too will be familiar to anyone with a love of the mountains: the Clachaig in Glencoe and Wastdale Head in the Lake District being popular places in mountain lore then and now.

The descriptions of the locations and the feel for the climbing are particularly strong elements of the book. Alex brings to life the Victorian climbing establishment, filling the corners of the Clachaig with pipe smoke and laughter, and his descriptions of climbing in Scotland in particular convey an affinity with the high, wild places of the Highlands. One of my favourite passages from early on in the book reads:

“Stars burned steady out of the cold depths. This felt like a primal place where humans were not welcome; it belonged to atoms and frost, the slow turn of the heavens, and the ravages of geological time.”

The technical writing never gets bogged down in excessive detail, but rather dangles the reader in amongst the rock and ice of some iconic routes.

In the early chapters I struggled to get to grips with the female characters. They seemed at first vapid and inconsistent but as the story developed and the characters filled out these concerns were largely allayed. The strongest characterisations came towards the end of the book and the denouement was genuinely emotional. Whilst one or two of the early dramatic set pieces suffered slightly from excessive artistic license, I thought that the climax had a feel of true mountain mythos.

There are a couple of pleasing twists as the novel heads to its dramatic conclusion with Alex striking a good balance between moving the plot on and dwelling on the relationship between man and mountain and what risk means in such an uncaring and fatalistic environment. The final third of the book provides a fitting, thrilling denouement, uniting all the elements: believable characters, iconic settings and deft descriptions of climbers and their feelings out on the lonely rock-faces.

This is a confident piece of work that provides a thoroughly entertaining read from start to finish. With clear nods towards the likes of Harrer this is a book that will appeal to climbers and mountaineers but one that will also sit well with those interested in historical fiction and the quirks of Victorian society. I look forward to reading more from Alex.

For more information, including links to purchase the book at Amazon and elsewhere, Alex Roddie has his own webpage for the book.

Image: The Eiger, Monch and Jungfrau by Eduard Spelterini [Public Domain], via Wikimedia Commons

The Dubh-Ghleann Circuit

2012-10-27T18:16:00+01:00

Date: 20th-21st October 2012
Distance: 41.23km
Ascent: 1,572m
Time: 28 hrs 30 mins
Hills: Beinn a’ Bhuird (Munro), Beinn a’ Chaorainn (Munro), Beinn Bhreac (Munro)
Weather: Predominantly sunny, very cold wind and icy temperatures
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

Four weeks ago I was supposed to be in Assynt, enjoying the wild lands of the far north and climbing my halfway Munro. My car however had different ideas, breaking down and leaving me stranded in Aberdeen on a sunny Friday. It took two weeks and more money than I really care to think about to sort it out but at least I have a car again. For my return to camping trips I wasn’t up for something as distant as Assynt, instead I chose to head back to my favourite stomping ground, the Cairngorms.

It was mid-August 2009 that I was last on the summit of one of the eastern giants of the range - Beinn a’ Bhuird and Ben Avon - which occupy a vast tract of land between Braemar and Tomintoul. Earlier this year I walked down Glen Gairn with the hope of heading up to Ben Avon but was forced by high winds and low cloud to stay low that day. This had made me keener than ever to reacquaint myself with these high, wild mountains which, whilst less popular than their neighbours, certainly don’t lack for character.

Heading to the Aberdeen side of the Cairngorms generally affords for a leisurely start, and this one was no different. Despite rising early I didn’t hit the road until just after 9. There was patchy sunshine along Deeside and as it came into view above Ballater I could see that the upper reaches of Lochnagar had a substantial plastering of snow. At the Linn of Quoich parking area the car thermometer promised a chilly 7 degrees.

Glen Quoich is a perfect Cairngorm glen. More enclosed than neighbouring Lui, it’s also less well visited, particularly away from the car park and Punch Bowl, and yet it still has all the classic ingredients of a Cairngorm glen. A river chatters through a mix of green pine and golden birchwoods whilst the big hills crowd around the far end. The vehicle track on the west side of the glen makes for gentle progress in and I took my time, enjoying the sights and smells of autumn.

At the closed bridge I paused for a lunchbreak, the water racing through the narrow linn, and the sunlight breaking through the trees. It was perfect.

After lunch I carried on at an easy pace down the glen, enjoying the evolving views as first Beinn Bhreac and then Beinn a’ Bhuird came into sight. The river crossing was straightforward with just a slight toe wetting to deal with and then it was onwards, climbing up through the short strand of Scots Pine and then up the open hillside onto the long ridge of An Diollard.

The corrie was sombre and still but coming out onto more open ground brought with it wonderful views down the length of the Dubh-Ghleann towards the big peaks of the central Cairngorms. Below me the allt wound its way below the slopes of Beinn Bhreac and down to the point where I had crossed it back down in Glen Quoich.

Slightly higher up and now out of the protection of the corrie the wind was much colder and more blustery. However, the views continued to develop and I was now looking out across the vast marshy land marking the watershed between the heads of the Dubh Glen and the glen of the Cumh na Choinnich and distant Glen Derry. Here was the long march of the central Cairngorms, from Derry on the left to Bynack More on the right, from the distinctive tors on Beinn Mheadhoin and across the dark cliffs surrounding Loch Etchachan towards a sparkling white Ben MacDui.

I continued my way up the easy slope, pausing every now and then to watch as the views developed and the afternoon light changed below an increasingly complex arrangement of clouds strung out over a blue sky.

The gentle rising path eventually brought me out on the barren, windswept plateau. Close at hand was the lip of the Dubh Coire with the dark cliffs of A’ Chioch rising up to the south.

Far below the Dubh Lochan was a cold and sombre blue, reflecting the moody colours of the sky. The plateau was crusted with a couple of inches of snow, windswept, barren and with not a single other person in sight. I made my way north now, following the line of the cliffs and gazing down into each passing coire. The tors on Ben Avon provided the backdrop and further off Lochnagar was occassionally glimpsed below low-set cloud.

Underfoot conditions weren’t ideal for trail shoes but I made progress and eventually the plateau rose gently to the cairn marking the north top of Beinn a’ Bhuird. A minimalist cairn, more a pile of rocks than anything else, marks this 1,179m high Munro and offered little in the way of shelter from the wind. Nevertheless it was good to sit, hunkered down against the chill, and enjoy a chocolate bar whilst looking out at the long crest of the Cairngorms.

I had only a vague plan for a camping spot and although the hour was still relatively early, with the wind blowing about I wanted to be sure I was relatively sheltered once the tent was pitched. I briefly toyed with the idea of heading over to Ben Avon but was already thinking that the views of the Cairngorms would be better if I headed west the next day and so decided to stay on Beinn a’ Bhuird. By this time I had crossed east from the summit, passing the head of the distinctive twin burns where I finally found a little more shelter from the wind. I passed to the west of the Beinn’ a Bhuird’s most easterly top, Cnap a Chleirich, and then dropped down northwards towards another rocky tor, Stob an t-Sluichd.

Here, I came across another burn and beyond it a grassy rise with stunning views over the Slochd Mor to Ben Avon’s summit. I briefly continued on towards the Stob but as the wind rose again and the ground became rockier, I turned back to the grassy rise where the comination of views, slight shelter and water persuaded me to pitch for the night. Despite the fact it was only 4pm I was pleased with my location and despite an unruly breeze quickly got the tent up. With a windbreak available I got the stove on in the tent porch for a cup of tea, the first of several hot drinks.

As the afternoon turned to evening the skies grew cloudier. The wind died a little and I had a wander round the local area. The hills were dusky with a hint of pink, especially north over Moray where the distinctive shape of Ben Rinnes was clearly seen.

It was cold though and I soon retired back to the tent for dinner. After a Fuizion meal I got through a few chapters of A Feast for Crows on my Kindle and then snuggled down into my down sleeping bag to listen to a couple of podcasts.

Heading outside briefly to brush my teeth I found it was still cloudy outside with a breeze still coming in from the southwest. For a few minutes a gap in the clouds revealed the glorious arc of the Milky Way and the constellations of Perseus, Cassiopea and Cygnus. All too soon though more cloud had swept in and as the stars faded from view I zipped back up the tent and settled down to sleep.

Day 2

I had warmed up during the night and woke amidst a pile of socks and insulation layers that had been scattered about the tent. There was the palest of lights on the tent walls and I opened up the east door to find the most stunning pre-dawn sky. A deep orange band stretched across the gap between Ben Avon and Beinn a’ Bhuird whilst the hilltops remained silhouetted against a depthless indigo sky. A few bright stars shone in the sky and Venus was a dazzling point above Cnap a’ Chleirich.

I briefly entertained the notion of staying in bed and getting another half hour of sleep but the beauty of the dawn persuaded me to throw on all my layers and bundle myself out of the tent. There was a bitingly cold breeze but it was less gusty than the previous evening. I warmed myself up with a round of the area, getting the views as the light slowly changed.

Sunrise was still sometime off but the changing views kept me occupied. A thick layer of cloud was billowing up from Deeside, running along Ben Avon and spilling over the Sneck like a slow-motion waterfall. It swirled around the granite summit tors and then disappeared as it headed further north. Meanwhile, dappled clouds filled the sky overhead and these lightened in color before turning pink as the sun finally crested Ben Avon.

Cup of coffee in hand I watched as the sun rose above the drifting clouds. The landscape was suddenly illuminated; the rocks and grasses and mosses shining golden and splendid.

The day was looking promising and so after breakfast I quickly got everything packed away and was striding out across the icy plateau a little after 8am. The good weather confirmed my plan to strike west and complete the circuit of the Dubh-Ghleann, picking up the two Munros on the east side of Glen Derry which I had climbed back in February 2011.

The first part of the walk was through an icy wonderland. Blue skies overhead and sunlight catching a million ice crystals. I made good progress across the plateau but as I reached the gentle western slopes of Beinn a’ Bhuird found that the first of a series of cloud patches had swept in from the south, enclosing me in a thick and cloying mist.

Navigating on compass I set myself a series of bearings that took me down a broad ridge, descending through slushy snow and then onto bare grass. I passed by a crescent lochan and then dropped down to the head of the Allt Cumh na Choinnich. Here I dropped below the cloud into a land of browns and russets with a chattering stream heading north towards the Avon.

I crossed the steep-sided gorge and then climbed out on the other side picking up the outlying ridge of Beinn a’ Chaorainn Beag. The cloud began to thin and lift as I climbed higher and soon I could see the outline of Beinn a’ Bhuird behind me and the vast, watery expanse of the Moine Bheadlaidh stretched out to the south. As I approached the summit the cloud drifted off completely and I was left slack jawed as I crested the ridge with stunning views out over the northern Cairngorms.

The cairn offered some shelter from the cold wind and I took the opportunity to rest, admiring the views and eating a few jelly babies.

As the next band of clouds rolled in I left the summit, dropping down to the grouping of lochans on the saddle and then climbing up the slopes to Beinn a’ Chaorainn and the second Munro summit of the trip. The cloud was a bit more stubborn here but I continued to get glimpses of the hills across the Lairig an Laoigh including Bynack More and Beinn Mheadhoin with Cairn Gorm further off and plastered in snow. South I got some views of Beinn Bhreac across the shimmering moss.

The bitter wind soon got the better of me and I started my descent in the mist. Last time I had been in this area the ground was covered in snow and progress had been reasonable. Now the bogs were wet and inviting and I had to take a less than direct route to keep to the higher and slightly drier ground.

Off to my right I watched as the cloud gradually lifted off of the Derry group, the cliffs surrounding Loch Etchachan looked dark and forbidding. Behind me Beinn a’ Chaorainn was shedding its covering of mist and the blue sky was streaked with huge sweeping cloud formations.

The rise up to Beinn Bhreac’s west top afforded me better views down Glen Derry and I paused for a bite of lunch looking back north and east over the hills I had traversed.

Up on the summit the sun was now shining and the day was much warmer. The Cairngorms had largely shaken off their cloud and I marvelled at the clarity of the air and the views. South away from me the mountains stretched towards a misty Perthshire with Lochnagar dominating the east and Beinn a’ Ghlo in the west.

I wanted to stay high for as long as possible so from Beinn Bhreac I descended easy slopes south and slightly west to the col between Bhreac and Meall an Lundain. I then climbed the heathery slopes of this overlooked hill and found myself drawn back to the views down Glen Derry.

A neat and sizeable cairn marked the summit of this broad hill and then it was down the southeastern ridge towards the river in Glen Quoich.

The upper hill was easy and I was able to follow various deer tracks down through the heather. Lower down as I got closer to the streams the ground became boggier and more uneven. Eventually I found myself crossing a fence and then thrashing through a meadow until I came out on the good footpath.

Now a few hundred metres lower and in the shelter of the valley it was appreciably warmer and I took off a good few layers before getting the stove on for a final brew. The burn chattered away lazily and I took the opportunity to have a wash and freshen up.

Then it was just a simple case of following my outward route back through Glen Quoich to the car. As the afternoon progressed the warm sunshine dipped below the surrounding hills but the trees held on to some lingering heat and I never felt chilly. The glorious autumnal colours were even more striking than the day before and although it was good to get back to the car I wished I had the time to linger in this most wonderful of places.

It had been a great way to break a long stretch without being in the mountains and the variety of weather and views meant that the trip, despite being just over 28 hours in length, felt a bit longer. Though winter seems to be fast encroaching I’m hopeful of at least one more autumnal camp before the snow really sets in.

The Tarmachan Ridge

2012-09-16T19:16:00+01:00

Date: 15th September 2012
Distance: 14.23km
Ascent: 933m
Time: 4 hrs 30 mins
Hills: Creag na Caillich, Beinn nan Eanach, Meall Garbh, Meall nan Tarmachan (Munro) Weather: Early sunshine and breezy to later on low cloud and very strong winds Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

A quick drive north east took us to Killin and up the road to our high starting point for the day. We passed the new and very busy Ben Lawers car park to reach the Tarmachan starting point which only had a couple of cars parked up at this relatively early hour. Although the clouds had earlier been stuck to the summits, we booted up in bright sunshine with a blustery breeze blowing the long grasses.

Given the westerly wind we chose to reverse the traditional route, and so headed along the landrover track westward, the Tarmachan ridge opening up above us. A workgroup was spotted putting in new plantings but they were the last people we would see for a good long while - the western end of the hill was deserted.

We enjoyed the early morning sunlight that was illuminating Loch Tay and Killin and gazed hopefully up at the ridge as the cloud gradually burned off. A couple of forks took us gradually higher up the hillside.

The track wound its way gently up the hillside until we reached the ruins of the old quarry. Here there was no sign of a continuing path and so we took to the open hillside, picking a vague line of least resistance and aiming for the low point in the ridge some distance off at the head of the coire.

The craggy slopes of Creag na Caillich now stood off to our left as we made our way past small streams and over some wide patches of peat and bog. The ascent was much easier than expected and after a steepish climb up the head wall of the coire we finally emerged on the ridge just short of the summit of Creag na Caillich. My uncle and I continued up to reach our first summit of the day. From here we had a stunning view of the Tarmachan Ridge opening up in front of us. A little cloud lingered, particularly over Meall nan Tarmachan itself but we still were enjoying the sunshine.

From here we returned to where my aunt was waiting before continuing eastward along the ridge. It is a delightful walk and the views continued to be expansive, particularly over the wild, empty glens to the north of us. There was a steep pull up a zigzag track and then we on the summit of Beinn nan Eachan where the cloud finally caught up with us.

Out of the sun and with a strong wind blowing we rapidly got some extra layers on. A group of four Geordies arrived and told us of their interesting day out on the Lawers range the day before when they had been forced to crawl off the summit amidst a howling gale. The wind was strong today, but thankfully not that strong.

With outer layers and warm hats on we continued east, following the ridge down to the col before the impressive climb up to Meall Garbh. This has the infamous scrambly section which we would be climbing up rather than sliding down. The rock was damp and slippery and it took me a bit of time to locate e best route of ascent. Eventually though I emerged at the top of the crag and rejoined my aunt and uncle who had sensibly taken the steep bypass.

We climbed up and then followed the narrow arete along to the prominent top of Meall Garbh. In the wind it was an interesting place to try and stand, offering views east to Meall nan Tarmachan.

On the far side of Meall Garbh we found a sheltered spot to stop for lunch. We had been making good progress but the weather still looked to be getting ahead of us and so after a sandwich and some crisps we headed off, now making the final descent to the col before ascending the gentle slopes of Meall nan Tarmachan and the only Munro of the round.

As it turned out we spent the least amount of time on the highest summit. By some freak of geography it turned out that we had been largely sheltered from the true wind strength through the course of the day. Only when we emerged on the summit of the Munro did we find out just how windy it was. We could barely stand still to take a quick summit photo and so we moved off rapidly, getting just enough of a break to note that the cloud had descended over Lawers and was rapidly shrouding the ridge over which we had just passed .

We quickly made our way off the summit, passing a large family outing replete with numerous children and dogs, and then making our way down the excellent track to Meall nan Tarmachan’s south-east top.

The track made for a rapid descent and although Meall nan Tarmachan was now shrouded in mist there was sunlight elsewhere, finding its way through gaps in the cloud to send rays down over Killin and Glen Lochay.

The wind remained ferocious even as we lost height but the light was superb as afternoon crept onwards and we got closer and closer to Loch Tay. Ahead of us the cloud once again started to part from the Ben Lawers group of hills.

The path eventually met the outward vehicle track and then it was just a short stretch back to the car with the sight of Lairige Dam dwarfed by Meall Corranaich an impressive sight. Out of boots we had a quick run up to the lochan to look at the impressive eastern buttresses of Meall nan Tarmachan and then it was a pleasant drive back in the late afternoon sunshine to Stirling for a relaxed evening with lovely food and company.

Glenfinnan to Glen Cluanie

2012-09-01T08:58:00+01:00

Four Days in the Northwest Highlands

Date: 24th August to 27th August 2012
Distance: 82.26km
Ascent: 3,671m
Time: Four Days
Hills: Sgurr nan Coireachan (Munro), Sgurr Thuilm (Munro), Luinne Bheinn (Munro)
Weather: Plenty of it
Route: Click to view on Social Hiking

Day 1

I’ve never really felt nervous before a trip before, but this one seemed different. My rucksack was loaded with food enough to see me through five days of backpacking. It was heavy, bulging, even a little unwieldy. As I sat on the Citylink coach that took me from the Cluanie Inn (where I had parked my car) to Fort William I gazed out at a familiar landscape. Hills and lochs that I have driven past several times now were all gloomy and grey as a steady rain fell from leaden skies. At Fort William I had a couple of hours to wait before my train but with little appetite spent it in the bustle of the station cafe reading a few chapters of my book. The Maillaig-bound train duly arrived on time and took me west, along the beautiful shores of Loch Linnhe. As the rain finally eased there was now a brightness to the sky, a promise of a better afternoon and the thought of claiming my first couple of Munros of the trip.

At Glenfinnan I left the train with a small number of touristy-types who soon disappeared off to various corners of the village. I was left alone on the platform with my rucksack and my thoughts, and very little choice but to start heading north if I was to get back to my car. In fact, stepping off the train, that first part of the journey complete, seemed to take a lot of the lingering tightness out of my stomach and under brightening skies I started to feel more pleasantly excited about shouldering my pack and heading off down the road to pick up my way north.

After a short stretch along the main road I turned left just before the bridge over the River Finnan and followed the tarmaced estate road through the glen. After stopping briefly under the brutal concrete viaduct that has gained fame through a certain wizarding movie franchise I continued on.

Glenfinnan estate is currently installing a series of run-of-the-river hydro generation schemes along the Finnan and its tributaries and as such the glen is somewhat of a mess with new and widened construction tracks, new buildings and more. Thankfully the lush greenery down by the river and the dramatic profiles of the hills remain unspoilt and I enjoyed my steady meander down to reach the turn-off to Sgurr nan Coireachan.

The ascent of this hill is on an excellent stalkers track which rises steadily above the glen, climbing around and over a number of craggy lumps towards the subsidiary top of Sgurr a’Choire Riabhaich. Though mostly easily to follow I did end up losing the path at one point but a short scramble up slick grass got me back on course.

The front nose of Sgurr a’Choire Riabhaich is an impressive bulk of rock but the path turns it steeply on its right flank, rising as a series of gravelly zig-zags to emerge on the top. The rest of the walk up to the Munro was easy going between more rock bands and a couple of easy scrambles. The views back down Glen Finnan towards the hills around Loch Shiel and the views across to neighbouring Streap were grand but as I rose I moved into mist and cloud that was pouring back in from the west. I reached the trig point at the summit in dense cloud.

From here the natural route is to follow the high ridge line across a series of lower tops to reach the second Munro of Sgurr Thuilm at the far end of the horseshoe. This is easily accomplished, even in the mist, as a clear track follows a line of rusting fence posts all the way around. I followed this easily, no views to distract me, although from time to time the cloud thinned and I got a view of a pale, distant Loch Arkaig as well as the dark shapes of the surrounding mountains. However, as I progressed the cloud once again thickened and it started to rain. The final climb up to Sgurr Thuilm was a little slippery and delivered me to another fog-bound cairn. I paused here for a snack and a drink but again the views were nil.

In the planning stages of this walk I had intended to come down the north ridge and then camp overnight somewhere in Glen Pean but on contacting the estate had been informed that the north ridge and corries were used by the stalkers and they would rather I kept to the main Munro route. This meant my descent of Sgurr Thuilm took me back towards Glenfinnan on a steep but good quality path.

Towards the bottom I was able to turn east and make my way down wet ground to rejoin the track I had left earlier as it climbed up to the bealach between Sgurr Thuilm and Streap. After refilling my water bottle I followed the track up to the bealach where, based on the hour of day, I was planning to camp.

As I reached the summit of the pass the mist had started to descend off the high tops once more after a brief spell of clearer weather. Through it I could see the shadowy shapes of a group setting up their own tents a little further on. I found my own raised, flat knoll out of hearing distance of the others and got my own tent up and camp sorted. There was plenty of flowing water and I soon had a brew on and a hot dinner. With the light fading and more clouds gathering I retired to the tent for a relaxing evening spent reading and drinking hot chocolate and reflecting back on a what had turned into a good first day, despite the weather.

Day 2

The bealach above Glen Finnan to the River Carnach below Ben Aden

Although the weather had cleared a little as the evening advanced I woke to a misty dawn. I turned over and slept for another couple of hours, finally getting up at around 8 to enjoy a coffee, some breakfast and a fairly lazy start to my first full day.

The weather was definitely on the damp side with the cloud low and gloomy though it wasn’t actually raining. The fair weather plan for today would have been to tackle the three Glen Dessary Munros, ending on Sgurr na Ciche and then heading north to camp, possibly going as far as Loch nam Breac. The weather was far from fair and I didn’t see much point in doing these spectacular hills in dense cloud. My alternative route was a longer, lower route, aiming for the same point but going around via Sourlies and then following the River Carnach to arrive at the loch.

With everything packed away I finally dropped off north from the bealach at just on 9. The other campers were just stirring. I soon found myself in Glen Cuirnen a long, quite narrow glen which led me north towards the intersection between Glen Pean and Glen Dessary. The weather soon deteriorated and I found myself following a waterlogged track with my hood drawn up around my face. There were muddy tracks on both sides of the stream but neither seemed better or worse until I came to the lower reaches where tall bracken drove me across the water to reach an argo track on the other side which guided me down to the bridge over the River Pean. Here the rain had eased off so I paused for some food and a water refill.

It was an awful mud-choked path that led up away from the river through the fringes of the forest but thankfully it led to a good land rover track which took me around the foot of Monadh Gorm near Strathan and into Glen Dessary. With the tops still lost in the low cloud I didn’t feel I was missing out on much by sticking with the forest track all the way to the bothy of A’ Chúil.

Shortly after this the forest ended and I dropped down to cross the river, climbing up a boggy track to reach the path on the north side of Glen Dessary. This path was much narrower and followed the contours of the glen more closely. I climbed up over low ridges and dropped down to wade through churning side streams. The hills above me continued to be shrouded in mist and cloud, their crags eerie and sinister in the gloom above me.

It was good to gradually rise out of the wide part of the glen and enter its narrower upper reaches where the ground became less rugged. There was more bog to negotiate but I was soon on rockier ground and climbing up to the cairn marking the high point of the pass over to Loch Nevis.

I was now looking down to the Mam na Cloich Airde, the pass which holds two beautiful, wild lochans and from which the River Finiskaig runs down to reach the sea at Loch Nevis.

The water of Lochan a’ Mhaim was utterly still, reflecting the rugged outline of the hills. There was a silence up here and a melancholy feel as I sat munching on some fruit and nuts. The rain had finally eased off and it was a delight to take down my hood and enjoy the fresh air. I continued on, following the track along the shore of the lochan and then along the short connecting distance to reach the second lochan. Behind me cloud was spilling down off the tops but ahead of me there were flecks of blue sky appearing.

After a few moments of bright, warm sunshine the rain briefly returned as I followed the track down to cross the infant waters of the Finiskaig. Ahead of me in the distance I could see a fellow traveller making their way to the final climb out of the pass. I followed them up, climbing above the winding Finiskaig to get my first wonderful view of Loch Nevis.

With the hills of Knoydart rising beyond it, and a large sailing ship anchored off the shore it was truly like a scene out of a Robert Louis Stevenson novel). I tripped down the delightful descent path as the ground became increasingly green and lush and the skies once again became blue. The Allt Coire na Ciche tumbled down from the hills to my right, a roar of white water, and merged with the Finaskaig. Then it was down and through the salty marsh flats to reach the shingly beach in front of Sourlies bothy.

There was already a crowd at the bothy, including a couple of folk visiting via boat. I passed the bothy and a short way further on found a pleasant patch to sit down and soak up the atmosphere. It was wonderful, the still, shimmering waters, the drifting clouds and warming sunshine. I settled myself in to enjoy a relaxed lunch break.

As I was packing up the skipper of the boat came over for a brief chat. From him I found out that the weather for Monday was still supposed to turn bad. He bid me a good journey and I was soon away, heading along the shore to find my way around to the Carnach. It was getting late in the afternoon but there was still plenty of daylight and I wanted to get closer to the Knoydart hills before pitching my tent for the night. The tide was high so I picked my way across the jutting headland separating Sourlies from the outflow of the River Carnach.

I dropped back down to the shore and enjoyed a last lingering view up Loch Nevis before turning my attention to the flood plain of the Carnach, a wide, meandering river with wide, marshy ground running all the way up to the foothills on my right. It wasn’t easy terrain but I made steady progress, drawn on by the incredible sight of Ben Aden in front of me.

This rocky, imposing and remote Corbett is a one of the most stunning mountains and the view was only improved as the pointed shape of Sgurr na Ciche, now completely cloud free, emerged as I rounded a corner in the glen. Eventually the marshland gave out and I joined a track that was at times clear and well surfaced, and at other times almost lost in marshy tracts. Progress was a lot slower than anticipated on this stretch but the late afternoon sunlight was wonderful, providing plenty of visual drama as I headed further up the course of the Carnach.

Clouds continued to bubble up and blow through but largely the summits stayed clear and I enjoyed the feeling of drying out after all the earlier rain. I did have to wade across the river but it turned out to be fine: wide but very shallow. As I rounded the corner below Ben Aden I started to get a sense of the terrain ahead of me as the upper reaches of the Carnach ran up into a rough and rocky looking gorge.

Higher up a few more trees appeared and then I was wading through waist-high bracken to finally reach the entrance to the wooded ravine which joins the upper and lower stretches of the Carnach. I followed the narrow riverside track as it ducked in between trees and the rocky river bank, sometimes climbing high and rather precipitously above the gorge. It was dramatic and there was a little easy scrambling at times.

Eventually I reached the end of the gorge, the river turned sharply right and was suddenly calm and tranquil again. A huge rock wall rose on the far side of a deep, dark section of water and on my side, on the other side of a field of thistles, was an idyllic section of close-cropped grass that remarkably seemed tick free on inspection. A steady breeze was blowing down the river and there wasn’t a midge to be found. It was now around 6pm and I decided it was about time to pitch the tent. Going any further would have involved an hour or two more of climbing if I wanted to reach the loch.

The tent was up and a make-shift washing line soon had hat, gloves and washed socks drying in the gentle breeze. I made a hot chocolate and sat outside the tent enjoying the evening light. A single very large tick was spotted but exterminated. I retired to the tent for dinner which was a good decision as no sooner had I got inside but the skies darkened and a heavy shower started, rain pounding off the tent. No matter though. I was on the edge of Knoydart and Sunday was forecast to be a great day.

Day 3

From the Carnach through Knoydart to Loch Hourn

I awoke to a perfect day. Fluffy clouds were picked out in subtle shades of orangey-pink as I made a cup of coffee. As I wandered around my little slice of paradise a large heron flew up the river passing just a few feet away from me!

I had no intention of wasting such a good day and was packed and off an hour earlier than the previous day. This time there was no gentle descent to ease me in but rather a lung-busting climb up the steep eastern slopes of Luinne Bheinn. My original plan had been to climb this hill from the pass climbing up above Lochan nam Breac but as I hadn’t quite reached that point the previous evening it seemed sensible to take a more direct route of ascent.

The climb was unrelenting but easy enough on steep grass slopes, weaving around the occasional boulder. The gradient provided plenty of excuses to pause and admire the magnificent views that were opening up all around me. In particular Ben Aden and Sgurr na Ciche silhouetted against the bright morning light were spectacular. As I rose more and more hills became visible.

Eventually I came out into the upper reaches of the coire I had been heading towards. There was a towering series of crags on my right but the low point on the ridge was ahead of me and looked accessible. The headwall was steep but after a short grassy scramble I was up the final damp gully to emerge on the ridge to the southeast of Luinne Bheinn.

There was by now a little bit of cloud clinging to the highest tops but largely the weather was glorious and I revelled in the views. I now had a clear view up towards the summit of Luinne Bheinn and as I followed the ridge upwards the views behind me to Meall Buidhe also opened up.

I picked up the trade route coming around from the other Munro and followed it as it wound its way up the ridge through a series of little rocky crags. I could now see clear across Knoydart and out across the shimmering sea to the islands of Eigg and Rum.

The east top presented a few scrambly sections whilst in between flat terraces of grass provided ample viewing opportunities. I gazed back across the Rough Bounds and then north where the hills of Kintail, Affric and Torridon stood brightly in the morning sunshine.

The ascent kept up the interest but I eventually reached the eastern summit of Luinne Bheinn. This brought with it stunning new vistas, including the view down to Barrisdale Bay and the turquoise waters of Loch Hourn.

I put my pack down and clambered to the top of the highest rock, spinning 360degrees in wonder and awe at this stunning landscape. Everything about it was wonderful and although it was a bit breezy the conditions were perfect with great visibility and blue skies.

I set off along the summit ridge, descending from the east top and then rising gently up towards the actual Munro summit. The views continued to evolve with Rum and Eigg clear beyond Inverie Bay. Behind me the cloud was building a little over the Rough Bounds.

I passed by a smaller cairn which may, or may not, have been the actual summit but actually ended up stopping at the much larger cairn which marked the western end of the ridge. Here I again took in the magnificent views. It felt pretty good to be on the summit of a Knoydart Munro at 10:30am on a sunny Sunday morning. Beyond Ladhar Bheinn the Cuillin of Skye were hanging stubbornly on to cloud. Elsewhere though there was plenty of sunshine and the mountains of the Northwest marched off into the very far distance.

After about an hour on the summit, including calling home and chatting to a guy who came up from Barrisdale I was starting to get chilly and so started to make my way off, now heading west towards Ladhar Bheinn.

The descent was on a good track, following the broad crest of the ridge with occassional scrabbly steeper sections.

The steeper sections ended on a rocky terrace dotted with lochans and small bubbling streams. It was appreciably warmer here having dropped a couple of hundred metres of height and so I took the opportunity to sit and enjoy the views. Ladhar Bheinn now towered above me and the views north to Kintail and south along the Dubh Lochain to Inverie were stunning. Beinn Sgritheall dominated the views over Loch Hourn.

I crossed the tumbled land until I stood gazing out to the mighty nose of Stobb a’ Chearcaill, the eastern end of the great round of Coire Dorcail. It is a seriously impressive bit of rock.

I now had to pick my way down boggy slopes to reach a line of fence posts which marked the final descent down to the summit of the Mam Barrisdale. Cloud was now starting to fill the sky a little but it was still pleasant and warm and the surroundings were sublime.

At the summit of the pass I stopped for lunch in the warm sunshine. A few other folk came by, most heading for Inverie it appeared. I was sorely tempted by Ladhar Bheinn but also knew about the bad weather forecast for the following day. Ideally I wanted to get a bit closer to the car to be able to get out tomorrow and going over Ladhar Bheinn would have prevented this. I took the difficult decision to leave it this time and instead turned towards Barrisdale bay.

The descent was easy going on a good track and I made steady progress, stopping once to refill my waterbottle and then much more often to gaze up at the rugged hills surrounding Glen Barrisdale. Behind me Luinne Bheinn looked very dramatic, waterfalls tumbling down its northern slopes.

As I neared the floor of the glen I got further views up towards Glen Unndalain and into the fastness of Barrisdale. Below me the small collection of buildings marking Barrisdale itself slowly drew closer.

I passed the sign welcoming me to Barrisdale, crossed the river and made my way past the campsite, bothy and farmhouse. It was all very pleasant but I was looking forward to getting down to the shore of Loch Hourn which cannot be done until you are a little bit further round the bay. As the views back to Luinne Bheinn and across to Ladhar Bheinn opened up I dropped down to the shingle shore.

It was calm with just a light breeze to occasionally ruffle the water of the sea loch. It was a pleasure to put the pack down after the long ascent, and then to remove shoes and socks and wade out into the chilly, clear water of the bay.

It had clouded over briefly whilst I was down by the shore but after some food I headed off again, now following the shoreline path, and as I made steady progress around the bay the sun once again appeared. The loch waters turned a turquoise green and the hills lit up as the sun hit them.

This path, which runs all the way along Loch Hourn to Kinlochourn is famous for its ups and downs and after the pleasant stretch along Barrisdale Bay I was climbing up the first of these. The views out along the loch from the first summit section were stunning, the waters looking tropical.

It is a long way with a great deal of ups and downs but I was in no great hurry and happy just to enjoying the passing scenery and the delights of the path as it ran from the high tops down to the very edge of the loch and back again. Slowly Knoydart receded behind me and the hills of Kintail started to loom in front of me.

After passing the empty house at Runival I went over a large outcrop and once again came down close to the shore. Here there looked to be something of an unofficial campsite with a stone fire circle and some well cropped grass. The evening had advanced and I knew it would take another couple of hours to push past Kinlochhourn and find a wild camping spot in the hills below the South Shiel Ridge so I opted to stop here for the night.

It turned out to be not a great decision as with hardly a breeze the west coast midgies were soon out in force. I hastily got the tent up and dived inside but it wasn’t possible to prevent many of the blighters getting in and so I spent an evening cooped up with the midgies and my book. It was sadly a bit of dissatisfying end to a great day in Knoydart.

Day 4

Loch Hourn to the Cluanie Inn

It wasn’t until the early morning that a decent wind got up and suddenly the tent was being knocked about. The midgies quickly disappeared but now I knew there was a new problem; the approaching storm I had been warned about a couple of days ago outside Sourlies.

By 7am the wind was fierce and I was up and about, hastily getting everything packed away before it could be carried off across the loch. Luckily it didn’t start raining until I was almost at Kinlochhourn.

As I approached the end of the loch the wind was strong and gusting, driving heavy raindrops directly into my face. The final stretch of path seemed to go on forever and it wasn’t until I finally hit the tarmac near the jetty that it eased a little and progress improved for a while. I crossed the river and then made my way through the estate, climbing up the wooded hillside above the lodge to reach a path running along the power lines. This I followed as it turned into Coire Sgoireadail. Here the winds were a bit less dramatic and I could stop for some food and a drink of water. I didn’t hang around long though as the rain soon returned.

The coire proved a dramatic landscape though there was a reasonable track to follow once I had waded through the allt. In its upper reaches it was rocky with tumbling waterfalls and it took me to quite a decent height before I dropped over the far side and down into the upper reaches of Glen Quoich.

Here after another river wading I picked up a good track which I was now to follow all the way along the south edge of the South Shiel Ridge. On a better day the plan would have been to return by this ridge, however it was not be this time. The weather was poor, the wind remaining strong and the rain sometimes heavy and sometimes light. I really did just draw my hood up and get on with it pausing briefly every few km to have a drink and a snack.

In this way I made good progress, bypassing the large house at Alltbeithe with views down to Loch Quoich, and then heading back up to get around the far end of the South Shield Ridge. I crossed the far end of the hills on a good stalkers path which then dropped me down onto a private tarmac estate road for the final few miles out to the Cluanie Inn.

After around 7 hours of near constant wind and rain it was a relief to get back to the car to change out of damp clothes and then to head around to the Cluanie itself for a reviving cuppa, some soup and a big bowl of chilli.

It rained the whole time I was at the pub, getting increasingly heavy and I was glad to have made the decision to exit from the hills rather than spend another day hoping for a chance at the high tops.

Finally, feeling human again I enjoyed a relaxed drive back to Aberdeen to end a very satisfying trip. I didn’t hit all my goals but I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, learnt a few more lessons about dealing with bad weather days, and generally made good progress despite not hitting as many Munros as I would have liked. Hopefully starting off the next big trip will be somewhat less of a nerve-wracking affair!

A Cairngorm Traverse

2012-08-19T21:15:00+01:00

Linn of Dee to Coylumbridge via Cairn Toul

Date: 18th August 2012
Distance: 38.16km
Ascent: 1,827m
Time: 10hr 24min
Hills: Angel’s Peak (Munro), Cairn Toul (Munro), Devil’s Point (Munro)
Weather: Early showers giving way to bright sunshine
Route: Click to view on an OS Map

The opportunity to traverse a mountain range in a day is a rare one and is definitely one of the main reasons why I am a member of the Stocket Hillwalking Club. The club’s 2012 Cairngorm Traverse was an opportunity to cross the Cairngorms, either via the famous pass of the Lairig Ghru, or going across the Cairn Toul massif to bag the Devil’s Peak, Cairn Toul and Sgorr an Lochain Uaine. Despite the fact that I had been up in this area wild camping just a couple of weeks before I was still thoroughly looking forward to this day out, especially as the weather promised to be rather good. Would it be, as with Braeriach on the last occasion, third time lucky for a summit view from Cairn Toul?

The weather took a little time to sort itself out and the situation wasn’t helped by our super speedy bus driver who got us through to the Linn of Dee for 8:30am, a little earlier than expected given our 7am departure! A little light drizzle was falling as we set off through the pine woods, but the sun was shining at times and it was already turning into a warm day. The walk along the Derry Road was enlivened by the shifting light but it was good to get to the lodge where we had a short break before the midges could get too settled.

We chased several rainbows along the line of the Luibeg, the sun lighting up the wonderfully purple heather as the dark shadows of clouds chased each other across the higher tops. Last summer I did almost no hillwalking and had forgotten the vivid colours that transform this usually somewhat drab, brown-grey landscape into a place of endless beauty. Everything from the very tops of the hills to the deepest depths of the streams was alive with colour and light.

The Luibeg, flowing strongly with startlingly clear water, was forded without too much trouble and then we were climbing up and over the shoulder of Carn a’ Mhaim and down into Glen Dee. The weather was improving with every step forward, although the scudding clouds meant that the light was dramatic and ever changing. The waterproof jackets were put away, stuffed into the bottom of the pack, and forgotten about for the rest of the day.

Walking into the bottom of the Lairig Ghru is always a marvellous experience, the big mountains, bigger than anything outside of Ben Nevis, rise up on either side, their flanks the soft red-pink of the Monadh Ruadh. Glen Geusachan was dark beneath the clouds but as we approached the bothy at Corrour sunlight broke over the Devil’s Point, lighting up the cloud that was clinging to the summit of Cairn Toul towering above this tiny, isolated shelter.

At Corrour we paused for a bite of lunch. There was a chill wind blowing down from the Ghru which did a reasonable job of keeping the worst of the midges away but did mean an extra layer had to go on. To warm up again we had the joy of the ascent up through Corrie Odhair on the excellent gravel track which winds its way up besides the tumbling stream. I took the opportunity to refill my water at the crossing above the falls, enjoying the views up the Lairig Ghru to the rounded summit of Ben MacDui.

As I ascended I passed a group of Australian lads who were lumbering up the steep slope under heavy packs. They were on a multi-night Cairngorm adventure and really enjoying it despite the weight of their loads. Shooting by them I quickly reached the bealach and, following the same path I descended in the deep dusk two weeks before, got to the summit of the Devil’s Point to enjoy some solace. It was breezy but the views were endless, disappearing off into a haze of hills in far off Perthshire. The Geusachan shimmered, a slender sliver of water coursing its way into the Dee.

Back to the bealach and then northward, following the rim of the cliffs to point 1213 and then up to the summit of Cairn Toul.

Third time lucky it was and from the summit cairn there were glorious views in all directions. I took a brief stroll down the northeast ridge to look out over the Green Lochan and across the Lairig Ghru. Braeriach and Ben MacDui dominated the scene their scree-covered flanks basking pink in the sunshine and thin ribbons of white water tumbling down their riven gullies.

Back at the cairn I now had a good long wait for everyone else to catch up. The chill wind remained so I hunkered down behind the cairn to eat some food. Members of an RAF SAR team up and puttered about on the summit for a while before disppaearing off again. A group of three walkers who had cycled in at the same time as us also arrived before pressing on to the Angel’s Peak. Regrouped and fed we followed suit, picking our way clumsily through the loose and jumbled boulders before puffing our way up the track to the summit of Sgurr an Lochan Uaine.

The summit of the Angel’s Peak provided another wonderful spot for a break, the views out over the immense Garbh Coire to the tumbling Falls of Dee and the crags and cliffs of Braeriach drawing the eye as much as the Lairig Ghru and Ben MacDui now off to the east.

We descended down more boulders to the col between the Angel’s Peak and Einich Cairn. Here was our last views of the central Caingorms with an impressive view across the Garbh Coire to the Falls of Dee and along to Braeriach’s summit.

We now left the high, harsh land of the plateau and contoured round the flanks of Einich Cairn on a faint track that kept us high above the Allt Luineag. The sunshine remained and we enjoyed the views over the boggy land to Beinn Bhrotain and Monadh Mor.

The path petered out but it was simple enough to contour around until we could spot the cairn marking the head of the descent through Coire Dondhail which would take us down into Glen Einich.

The stalker’s path is most excellent, at least once past a slippery section through the crags, and we were soon enjoying the views up Loch Einich to the dark cliffs of Sgor Gaoith. As we descended the evening sunlight lit up the waters of the loch and the wonderful wild flowers growing alongside the track.

The walk out was long but straightforward. The hills were bathed in late afternoon sunshine and the thought of a cold beer at the pub draw us on, through Glen Einich, through the Rothiemurchas forest, and finally down into Coylumbridge.

There were weary feet by the end but it had been a stunning day and some of the best conditions I’d experienced in the Cairngorms. The journey back was sleep filled after a couple of well earned pints and it was in deep darkness that we arrived back in Aberdeen, a long but rewarding day complete.

Breaking the Curse of Braeriach

2012-08-08T21:01:00+01:00

Day 1

Date: 4th August 2012
Distance: 22.23km
Ascent: 1,678m
Time: 10hr 15min
Hills: Braeriach (Munro), Angel’s Peak (Munro), Cairn Toul (Munro), Devil’s Point (Munro)
Weather: Early bright sunshine, cloudy later with a heavy rain shower
Route: Click to view on an OS Map

Other than perhaps getting up to head on holiday, 4:30am on a Saturday morning isn’t a time I would normally be pleased to see. Looking outside didn’t do much to engage my motivation; Aberdeen was wreathed in a dense, Victorian fog and I could barely see the other other side of the street. However, I had somewhere to be and someone to meet so after a few last minute preparations and a pain au chocolat consumed between yawns I was on the road.

A mile out of Aberdeen, climbing up to Tyrebagger the fog was left behind and suddenly I was in a world of sunshine and optimism! The fog was dense and low lying and over the next hour or so I would continue to drop down into it only to rise up on the other side. This pattern stopped as I dropped into the valley of the Spey where the cloud was thicker and didn’t seem to be in the mood for going anywhere fast. I rolled into Aviemore behind the bin lorry and pulled up in the empty, fogbound station car park. It felt like November.

Having slightly overestimated the time it would take me to get to Aviemore I now had half an hour to spare and so I took out my Kindle and read a little, occasionally watching as another sleepy looking passenger arrived at the station. Just a few minutes before the first southbound train of the day was due a taxi screeched to a halt and a flustered lady got out, soon hurrying off to the platform. A few minutes later the Sleeper rolled into the station right on time, a few folk getting off, including my co-conspirator for the weekend. Fresh from several recent trips out in the hills Rich had travelled up overnight from London for his first taste of the Cairngorms.

The plan was to get a bite of breakfast and finalise route plans over coffee and a bacon roll. However, Aviemore doesn’t seem ready to serve the needs of early hillwalkers and so it was a quick stop at Tesco and then out to park at Whitewell where our sandwiches were complemented by a healthy intake of midges. A quick look at the map confirmed our route choice, taking into account the less than inspiring weather forecast, particularly for Sunday. We would head up to Braeriach via the Lairig Ghru and then make our way along the peaks to the west of the Ghru before camping near the Devil’s Point. Sunday was less certain but we had a few options depending on what the weather brought our way.

After final preparations (and an apple) we were off, walking through the misty forest towards the start of the Lairig Ghru. Chatting as we walked we were soon on the narrow footpath which climbs up above the chattering Allt Druidh. With the summer forest canopy dark and dense above us it was a bit of time before we noticed the blue skies and sunshine that had appeared. As the trees thinned we could see back down to the forest where the cloud still hung thick and heavy, obscuring any views of Aviemore and Strathspey.

Delighted with the weather and the fantastic views that were opening out we continued along, climbing up towards the Lairig Ghru. As we neared the narrow, rocky section below the old Sinclair Hut site we paused briefly to chat with a Californian who had enjoyed a brilliant night on the hills. We left the Ghru path and steadily gained height up towards Sron na Lairig the views opening out magnificently. I’ve only ever been up or down this path in clag so it was great to get views of Lurcher’s Crag and across Glen Einich to the distinctively shaped Sgoran Dubh.

As we headed up the views just got better and better. After the initial steep pull the terrain levelled and we paused to have a drink and take in the stunning views. Apart from the mist hanging on resolutely further down the Spey the skies were gloriously blue and summery, white clouds bubbling up here and there.

We continued on, crossing Sron na Lairig and then pulling up to the summit ridge. The weather had held and it looked like my third attempt at Braeriach was going to finally bring me a view! I was very excited. Getting to the cliffs far above the Garbh Coire brought with it a “wow” moment. The views suddenly opened out ahead and we were gazing across the deep glen to the towering mass of Carn an t-Sabhail (Cairn Toul) and Sgor an Lochain Uaine (the Angel’s Peak), the green lochan cradled between them.

The air was almost completely still, the sunshine warm, and we spent a while here relaxing and taking photos. Eventually we got our legs into motion and followed the well trodden path along the edge of the cliffs and up the final gentle slopes to the summit of Braeriach, the UK’s third highest mountain.

The views along the cliffs are spectacular and we enjoyed the clear views all around. After visiting the cairn we found a pleasant spot for a late lunch, our feet almost dangling over the cliff-edge. There was a gentle breeze as we munched on some food. The summit got a little busier as a few other folk arrived.

After lunch we headed west, following the cliffs as often as we could to reach the Falls of Dhe. Here the infant Dhe, already a quick flowing stream, plunges over the cliffs and into the An Garbh-choire on its way to Braemar and eventually out to the sea at Aberdeen some 70 or 80 miles away.

We took the opportunity to refill our bottles with deliciously fresh mountain water and then continued on, again tracking the edge of the cliffs somewhere near Einich Cairn. The views were constantly changing, especially as we got closer and closer to Sgor an Lochain Uaine, its scrambly northeast ridge revealed in perfect profile.

As we advanced, the weather began to change. Clouds, darker than earlier, were now rolling in and it looked like the forecast rain shower was on its way. We headed down to the col before the Angel’s Peak, admiring the views out west to the Central Highlands which were picked out by breaks in the cloud allowing glorious shafts of light to strike the landscape.

In front of us now a towering wall of black cloud had gathered. It looked ominous but there was no feeling of humidity or electric tension in the air so it didn’t seem as though it was a thundery storm. We warily made our way to the summit under these dark skies, arriving at the cairn just as the first smattering of raindrops fell. It was soon on with full waterproofs and then we sat down to see how long it would last. The cloud was moving in very unpredictable ways as the squall passed over us but it seemed that blue sky would have to prevail eventually.

Twenty minutes later we were still getting wet. A decision was made to continue on as it seemed that the rain would have to relent. With little actual wind though the shower was very slow moving and the falling water made the ascent of Cairn Toul, a jumble of slippery boulders, a little more interesting. At the summit cairn there were still no views but we took a break for food anyway.

As we descended off the south side of Cairn Toul the rain finally eased and within moments of arriving at the col before Point 1213 there were blue skies above. It was a wonderful feeling to take off waterproofs at last! After a pause for more photos we headed up to the cairn at the summit of Point 1213 enjoying views back to Cairn Toul whose summit was now, of course, cloud free! Ahead, and some way below us, was the Devil’s Point with the wide bealach below its bouldery summit slopes. This was to be our resting spot for the night.

After descending the grassy slopes from Point 1213 we quickly found a flattish, dryish area where the tents were pitched. Mine was up up first and then Rich got his Laser Comp up close by. The views were cloudier than they had been earlier in the day and there was an odd spot of rain but the conditions were mostly excellent and soon the slopes of Ben Macdui were lit by a gentle evening sunlight.

With the tents up and gear set out to dry we settled down for a spot of dinner accompanied by hot drinks. Stoves were compared, water was boiled and dinner was enjoyed.

After dinner we went for an amble up to the summit of the Devil’s Point, an easy walk from the bealach up boulder slopes and then along the fabulous summit ridge with wide views out over the River Dhe. The gloaming was fast falling and the surrounding mountains stood silhouetted against the last pale light of the day. There wasn’t much colour as the sun sank beyond the cloudbanks in the west and all too briefly a rising full Moon was seen red and ruddy in the east.

In the fading light we picked our way back to the tent where hot chocolate was enjoyed as the first stars appeared overhead, twinkling in a gap between clouds. A gentle breeze had blown most of the midgies away and we sat around enjoying the final vestiges of the day. After the 4:30am alarm call it was good to finally clamber into bed around 11:30, though only after I hastily evicted a giant spider that was making itself cosy in the corner of my inner!

Day 2

Date: 5th August 2012
Distance: 24.12m
Ascent: 1,091m
Time: 9hr 18min
Hills: Sgor Gaoith (Munro)
Weather: Early mist clearing to sunshine with later on cloud and then heavy rain
Route: Click to view on an OS Map

I slept long and peacefully, right through until my alarm went off at 6:30. After a moments confusion I got it silenced and dosed off for another half an hour so. I finally roused myself just after 7 and through the mesh of my inner could quickly ascertain that the day was less than inspiring, our tents surrounded by cloud which was being wafted gently over the bealach. We got up though and soon had breakfast on the go. Hot drinks and a few cereal bars did the job for me whilst there was much amusement as Rich cooked up bacon and potatoes which was fried off in rehydrated fat! After a second cup of tea we got ourselves packed up, the tents saturated from the moist air adding a bit of weight to our packs.

In the time it took to get breakfast and sort ourselves out for the day the cloud had begun to lift and there was faint inkling of misty hillsides somewhere off in the distance. It also wasn’t raining and buoyed by that fact we decided to give our planned high route a go. Initially this took us on a fabulous high level contour above Glen Geusachan. Far below us the Geusachan Burn flowed swiftly on its way to meet the Dhe whilst the distant roar of waterfalls tumbling down the flanks of Beinn Bhrotain were first heard and then seen as the mist gradually thinned and lifted.

The terrain was pathless but relatively easy, only an occasional small boulder field to negotiate. The plan was to maintain height around to Loch nan Stuirteag which appeared out of the mist as we neared the head of Glen Geusachan. To get there though we had an interesting traverse. The first obstacle was the Allt Clais an t-Sabhail which comes down a narrow ravine from the col between Cairn Toul and the Angel’s Peak. With all the rain recently this was fast flowing and the rocks were slippery. A place to cross was found and then it was a gravelly scramble up the far bank. The rest of the traverse was no less interesting with several more stream crossings to negotiate, each one separated by strips of slippery, marshy and very steep slopes. It was with some relief we reached the shores of Loch nan Stuirteag where the sun was starting to shine!

We had a breather here, having a drink of water and a couple of snacks before heading off, now ascending beside the inflow of the loch and up onto the Moine Mhor. In these conditions - blue skies with impressive clouds drifting about - it was an amazing place to be.

We followed the wide, lazy river, keeping to the high ground just above the marshy flats. A path came and went but mostly we went across country, bearing roughly for the track we could see coming down from the high ground below Carn Ban Mor. The gentler slopes of the yesterday’s pointed peaks provided plenty of visual interest despite their rounded appearance and although I got wet feet, the ground was ok, and we were able to wend our way between the bogs on more or less solid ground.

After passing Loch nan Cnapan we climbed up gentle slopes towards the track, getting grand views down the Eidart to the hills beyond the upper waters of the Feshie. Here we paused for a spot of lunch, the views glorious in all directions and no other figure on the landscape. After lunch we decided to forgo the track and instead crossed to the head of Glen Einich for the remarkable views down to the loch. I last stood in a very similar spot back in March on my traverse from Blair Atholl to Aviemore. With clouds adding to the drama of the scene it was a pleasure to revisit this awesome spot.

We now made our way along the high level track which skirts around the western rim of Glen Einich heading towards the Munro of Sgor Gaoith. This gives spectacular views down to Loch Einich and for the first time on the trip we had a proper wind in our faces. Ahead of us Sgor Gaoith’s prominent summit was visited by several walkers and some of these we greeted as they made their way down. Up on the plateau we paused briefly to admire the views down Speyside towards the hazy hills of the Highlands and then headed up to the now deserted summit.

Braeriach was clinging onto some cloud but gradually came free as we enjoyed the views down to Loch Einich and further back across the Moine Mor and the route we had taken that morning. Looking back over the hills of yesterday there was a remarkable sense of journey which really only comes in the rolling plateau of the Cairngorms. We spent a long time on the summit, sending Tweets, checking Social Hiking, admiring the views and having some more food. We had the place to ourselves and enjoyed just drinking in all the stunning scenery. The weather and light was changing all the time and as we got ready to leave dark clouds had amassed over the high Cairngorms.

We got our packs sorted and then headed off on the final hill leg of the trip. From Sgor Gaoith we followed the clear track along to Sgoran Dubh Mor and then dropped down the ridge towards Creag Dubh. As we descended a strange part rainbow appeared in the rays of light over Glen Einich. This gradually developed over the course of an hour or so into a full blown double bow arcing across the glen. It was spectacular and many photos were taken. Of course, after the rainbow came the rain and as we headed up to Creag Dubh it started. Though it was light and drizzly at first we still took the opportunity to shelter in the lee of Clach Choutsaich to have some final food before pressing on.

Near the Argyll Stone the rain really started and the rolling summit of Creag Dubh was lost in the clag. Careful navigation got us along the remainder of the ridge until it bent around to drop into Glen Einich. The slopes, at first rather benign, soon turned into a steep and slippery descent which landed us in a fine stretch of bog to be traversed to the track. Luckily the rain only really started as we reached the firm ground.

With a clear way ahead and no incentive to hang around we headed off, making our way back to Whitewell. The rain increased in intensity until it was a full on assault, heavy drops falling near vertically down. The track rapidly turned to a river, large pools developing, and drainage channels fast flowing with muddy, silt-charged water. Our pace was fairly rapid and so we covered the last couple of miles very quickly.

Back at the car it was still thrumming down. Plans to change out of wet clothing were abandoned and after only the most basic of post-walk rituals we headed down the road into Aviemore. The roads were as wet as the track had been and the puddles continued to grow. Happily we got down to town ok and then sought shelter in the Cairngorm Hotel where a post walk (half)pint was enjoyed, accompanied by hot soup and a course of steaming Venison stew.

Then it was a case of dropping Rich off back at the train station before heading back to Aberdeen. The weather made the return drive interesting. The torrential rain thankfully stopped a few miles east of Aviemore and by the time I got to Aberlour the roads were dry. I decided to head across the hills but encountered thick fog on the drive to Huntly. It was a relief to get to the A96 and then a quick drive back into Aberdeen getting back in time to jump into bed, happy but exhausted, just before midnight.

The Remote Hills of Scotland

2012-07-29T20:47:00+01:00

Walking through the Fisherfield forest, often called the Great Wilderness, brings with it an experience few people get to enjoy as part of a normal, everyday existence. In the well developed land of Great Britain, where tarmaced roads have been run to the furthest flung corners of the island, it is hard to get away from the marks of human civilisation. Fisherfield is one of the most isolated spots by this measure with the encircling roads failing to encroach on this unspoilt area of wild land. Dominated by hills, mountains and lochs there are few buildings and fewer people.

It is areas like this that draw me to the mountains of Scotland and after my time in Fisherfield a few weeks ago I was intrigued to know where the most remote hills lie. Places like Knoydart, Assynt and the Monadhliath come to mind, but what about specific hills? Luckily, a member of the Scottish Hills forum recently posted the results of an interesting exercise, adding a new twist to what we consider the most remote hills of Scotland.

Remoteness is typically determined by “as the crow flies” distances from things like roads. Doing this you can determine that the remotest grid reference in the UK is a point around seven miles from the nearest piece of tarmac on the shoulder of Ruadh Stac Mor in Fisherfield at NH02020 77000.

Though this seems a rather meagre distance, the wild areas of the country are also generally the most rugged and this can turn a short straight line distance into quite a challenging journey, only doable on foot. In considering his definition of remoteness, the forum member took into account a measure of how long it takes to get somewhere if you are a walker. To arrive at his conclusions he estimated distance and ascent for a particular hill and then multiplied these figures by twelve minutes for every kilometre walked and twelve minutes for every 100m ascended. Doubling these he arrived at an approximate time for a round trip based on the closest/easiest route of ascent. His top ten is shown below:

Number	Data	Name	Area	List	Climbed
1	12 37 09 48	Mullach na Dheiragain + Top + Top	Affric	M	N
2	10 38 09 36	Beinn Bheoil + Top	Alder	M	Y
3	10 38 09 36	Ruadh Stac Mor	Fisherfield	M	N
4	11 37 09 36	A’ Mhaighdean	Fisherfield	M	N
5	10 37 09 24	Carn an Fhidhleir	Tarf	M	Y
6	10 37 09 24	Beinn Bhreac	Tarf	C	Y
7	09 37 09 12	Creag Mhor	Sutherland	G	N
8	18 27 09 00	Lurg Mhor + Top	Monar	M	Y
9	12 33 09 00	Stuc Fraoch Choire	Affric	MT	N
10	09 34 08 36	Ben Alder	Alder	M	Y

It should be noted that the Knoydart Munros and Corbetts (with the exception of Ben Aden down near the bottom of the full list) do not make an appearance on this list as the possibility of catching a ferry from Mallaig to Inverie dramatically reduces the walking distance. You can view the full thirty-eight hills by viewing this spreadsheet.

This list interested me because over the last few months I have been on or near several of the summits in this top 38 list and have visited the summits of 14 of them in total. In March I backpacked through the Atholl forest and bagged the remote Munros of Carn an Fhidlier (#5) and An Sgarsoch (#11) with their neighbouring Corbett Beinn Bhreac (#6); in May I backpacked around the western end of Loch Monar bagging Bidein a’ Choire Sheasgaich (#14) and Lurg Mhor (#8); and in June I travelled to Corrour station and backpacked around the Ben Alder group including Ben Alder (#10) and Beinn Bheoil (#2). Just last month I walked through Fisherfield which gave me views of A’ Mhaighdean (#4) and Ruadh Stac Mor (#3), Beinn Tarsuinn (#24) and Beinn Dearg Mor (#28).

However, the fact remains that the most remote hill on the list, one of the Munros in Glen Affric (which I have seen from across the glen on Beinn Fiondlaidh (#18)) is only a long day walk away from a road, a ten hour round trip. It makes me think about the huge distances involved in Alaska or the Yukon where distance from a road is not measured in hours, but more often in days if not weeks.

A sense of wilderness is a strange thing. Backpacking has opened my eyes to solitude and isolation, to that feeling of being miles away from anywhere. In reality this is much more psychological than factual isolation. A wild camp last October besides the shores of Loch Einich felt wonderfully remote, despite being two hours from the car. This remoteness was a combination of lack of people and the wonderful autumnal weather which quite often had the peaks shrouded and mist drifting along the surface of the loch. Wrapped in your own world you could be a million miles from anywhere.

Neverthless the list of remote hills provides plenty of inspiration for backpacking trips (and in fact only one of the hills I’ve bagged was done without involving a wild camp) so I think I know where I’ll be seeking inspiration for my next few trips.

So how many of the remote hills listed here have you climbed and where have you felt most isolated or most remote?

Craig Maskeldie and Loch Lee

2012-07-22T21:12:00+01:00

Date: 21st July 2012
Distance: 18.34km
Ascent: 1,218m
Time: 4hrs 30min
Hills: Craig Maskeldie
Weather: A warm, humid summer’s day with rain on and off
Route: Click to view on an OS Map

Well, it had been several weeks since my last drenching in the Scottish hills. Saturday rolled around and I had a free afternoon so the bag was packed, sandwiches were made and I was heading down the road to pay another visit to the Angus Glens. Around this time last year my girlfriend and I had enjoyed a wander down Loch Lee and enjoyed views of the craggy hills which crowd in around the Water of Lee. We hadn’t been up the hills on that occassion (there was a barbeque to enjoy, after all) and since those views I had been keen to get back and take in a few of the summits. Although I have a long route planned out I ended up just doing a short walk today, mainly because the weather really wasn’t very enjoyable.

I drove down Glen Esk in heavy rain, the road rapidly turning into a series of deep pools and streams. The hills were shrouded from view and I was feeling quite glum. Happily, after Tarfside the rain eased off and the views returned and I found the Glen Mark carpark almost full. There were kids running around playing football and the smell of food wafting up from the river. I parked the car in the last available space and was quickly off, hoping to get away before the rain returned and disuaded me.

I almost made it through the woods before the rain returned but when it did it was heavy. I stopped to don a waterproof and stow away the camera before continuing on. At the end of Loch Lee, beside the cemetary and ruined church I stood on the shingled shore staring out across the waters that reverberated with the splashing of raindrops. There was barely a breeze and clouds of midges were doing their best to withstand the downpour.

I continued and a couple of kilometres later as I passed the end of the loch the rain finally abated. It was humid and I was soon stopping again to take off my waterproof. This pattern would continue. After passing the Inchgrundle turn off I continued on the substantial vehicle track which parallels the Water of Lee. The impressive cragged sides of Craig Maskeldie and Hunt Hill dominated the views until they were shrouded in the next shower.

The rain eased again as I reached the linn where the Water of Lee tumbles down to the floodplain. Here I decided to stop for lunch whilst the weather was good. The linn offers plenty of interesting photos opportunities as the water tumbles down between several layers of rock.

After a sandwich I headed up to the bridge and crossed over to the west bank of the Water of Lee. A muddy track led over the shoulder of the hill before dropping back down to the grassy flats where it was now just a short walk in pleasant sunshine across to the falls of Unich.

I’m sure this is an impressive waterfall year-round but with all the recent rain it was swollen to a mighty roar tumbling over a shelf of rock far above me. Spray kicked off the foot of the falls catching the sunlight.

I left the falls behind and began to climb up besides the stream, following a track that zig-zagged its wayaround a number of rocky outcrops to reach a narrow valley nestled between Hunt Hill and Craig Maskeldie.

The gradient eased slightly along the valley floor but then kicked again as the narrow path climbed up to reach the more open moorland. The climb was fun but without any air movement it was hot and humid and I was ready for a drink by the time I came out just below the Falls of Damff.

The track up here was very boggy in places but after passing the impressive falls, which again tumble down quite a height, I crossed the river by another estate bridge and backtracked slightly to get a more extensive view of the waterfall from the slopes of Craig Maskeldie.

I now headed up rough, trackless slopes towards the summit of Craig Maskeldie. I contoured north and soon came to the edge of the crags overlooking the Water of Mark. A tiny spur led out over the precipice and I stood on the edge gazing out across the wide country north to the Deeside hills.

It was then a short climb up to the summit cairn and then it was slightly east to get the full views down the Water of Lee to Loch Lee itself. It was a little breezy up here and there were spits of rain in the air but I put my windshirt on and sat down on the edge looking out over at the views as I munched on the rest of my lunch.

The views came and went, across to Mount Keen which was rapidly attracting cloud and further west to Lochnagar and the hills of the eastern Cairngorms, the tors on Ben Avon a distinct sight.

Sun broke across the hills above Loch Lee but I was hit by another shower which got me packing up and moving on. I now bobbled along the lumpy, undulating plateau which marks the long summit of Craig Maskeldie. Initially I followed the leading edge of the crags, until steep ground above Carlochy forced me upwards where I struck a path winding its way on the firmer ground.

The sun was back out and I thoroughly enjoyed taking my time on this stretch, pausing often to take a photo and enjoy the peace. Showers could be seen shrouding Mount Battock and the hills towards the coast.

Occassionaly the track wound around a pool of still water surrounded by bog cotton and other delicate wild flowers. The extensive views across the Angus Hills were superb, the low grey clouds lending a sense of drama to this wide, rolling landscape.

It was now just a short distance to the final top, named Cairn Lick on the map, and the point at which I would rejoin a landrover track to take me back to the glen.

The track drops down a gentle rib of hillside aimed almost directly at Loch Lee. The clouds now seemed to be rolling in once again and I was glad to be heading back down to the glen. As the track neared the end of the ridge it dropped off to the south, falling in a series of zig-zags to the woods around Inchgrundle.

After passing the farm buildings I crossed the flats to reach the outward track just beyond the end of the loch. Happily it stayed dry and so I wandered back along the loch enjoying the views. A pair of fishermen were out plying the waters in a small boat.

At the far end I once again paused on the beach, conditions much more clement this time. A breeze ruffled the surface of the loch and it looked like it wouldn’t be long before the rain was back. Eventually I turned away from the water and wandered along the road to the car, to the drive home, dinner and a fine Saturday evening.

Spot Messenger 2 Review

2012-07-16T21:20:55+01:00

It doesn’t seem all that many years ago that only those people travelling to the far reaches of the world, places like the remote Himalaya or the Poles, had access to satellite communications technology. These satellite phones were heavy and prohibitively expensive. Now a wide range of handheld devices are available which tap into global satellite communications at a fraction of the price that a satellite phone would have cost you just a few years ago. Whilst these devices may not allow full conversations to happen when off grid, they do provide a convenient way of communicating your status (whether good or bad) back to friends and family, and, through social media, the wider world. They also offer the ability to contact emergency rescue services in locations that getting a phone signal might be impossible and for this reason are increasingly being carried by people going off into mountainous or remote areas both on land and sea.

After seeing David Hine (@gridnorth) and Colin Ibbotson (@tramplite) use their Spots with great success for various trips in Scotland (see David’s fabulous West Coast Stravaig and Colin’s map for the Moray Coastal Path), along with positive reports from Phil Turner, Martin Free, Bryan Waddington and Andy Bryant (all of whom are Social Hikers), I decided that the Spot Satellite GPS Messenger was something that would be useful to me, both now and for future trips, and so placed an order.

Why Buy A Satellite Communicator

Whilst I head into remote mountain areas to get away from the constant stream of 1s and 0s that seem to surround our every move these days, there are a few reasons why I decided to purchase a device capable of communicating without the need for a mobile signal (data or otherwise). These are:

The ability to let my family know where I am (and in particular where and when I have camped for the night) from any location. Having a satellite communicator means I can send an “I’m ok” message not just from a Munro summit, but also if I camp down in a glen or other mobile reception blackspot. The ability to give my family reassurance of my wellbeing and that I am safely camped for the night was the primary motivator for purchasing the Spot device.
The ability to track a route over multiple days on one set of batteries. My Garmin GPS which I use to track my hikes typically gets through a pair of AA batteries every 2-3 days if route recording is running. The Spot’s advertised battery life in tracking mode is around 10 days on 3xAAA batteries which should cover me for most trips and reduces carried weight if I do longer trips in the future. I plan to carry my GPS or Smartphone for navigation/grid ref checking but not to have it turned on for any great length of time.
The ability to directly contact Mountain Rescue services with a precise location in the event that I am unable to make contact using my mobile phone. I do most of my hiking solo and oftentimes I am away from well trodden routes. Having the ability to signal Mountain Rescue and have my GPS location transmitted to them directly could be invaluable in the event I get into real difficulties when out in the Highlands. Equally, I hope to be able to do future trips in more remote locales than Scotland (I’m thinking maybe Scandanavia, the USA and Greenland) and this service will be even more invaluable for those trips.
The ability to share location and routes with other people either directly or via Social Hiking. Social Hiking is a media rich mapping application that was originally designed for use with the Viewranger Buddy Beacon system as a source of live location data. Unfortunately Buddy Beacon relies on you having a 3G signal to transmit your location and this can be very limited in the Highlands. With Spot tracking, your Social Hiking map is updated every 10 minute irrespective of phone signal and I can choose whether to share publicly or privately using Social Hiking or Spot’s own live tracking website.

The Spot Satellite GPS Messenger

I have the second version of the Spot device. The original Spot was launched a few years ago with the second iteration available from 2009. The Spot Satellite GPS Messenger is a compact, standalone unit which is well suited to backpacking trips. Spot also have another device called the Spot Connect which pairs with your Smartphone and gives you more flexibility over message content. However, I try to use my phone as little as possible when out so decided the standalone unit better suited my needs.

The unit is reasonably compact, measuring 94x66x25 mm and weighs in at 120g with the three Lithium AAA batteries installed. It compares well to my Garmin GPS device and my Smartphone as shown above. Spot recommend mounting the unit facing directly up to the sky and I have found that I can slip it into the hydration tube strap on either my camping or day sack to achieve this (see below). The unit is supplied with a small case and strap designed to be worn as an armband but I prefer having it attached to my pack.

The unit itself has a basic interface which I will describe more thoroughly below, but you configure and manage the device through the web interface provided at www.findmespot.com. This is where you activate the device, add services, define your messages and add contacts. Using the web interface you can also view a history of your tracking and messages and download these in various formats, including KML and GPX. The web interface also allows you to set up a map to share with friends and family (and it is this map that provides information to Social Hiking).

Subscriptions and Services

Besides the cost of the device itself, access to the Spot services requires payment of an annual subscription. This is currently 99 EURO for the basic service and you pay an additional 39 EURO to get access to the tracking services. With the weakened EURO this worked out at only a little over £110 for me for both the basic service and the tracking add-on. Of course the price you pay will be subject to the exchange rate at the time your card is processed.

I found the subscription service easy enough to step through, although the Spot website is a little fiddly to navigate at times.

I am going to review the subscription in a years time but as I am currently going on more and more outings I believe the price is justified as it stands. Based on the trips I have already made in 2012, and looking forward to future plans, I anticipate spending 20-25 nights a year backpacking along with maybe 10-15 day trips around the country in a year. Based on this kind of usage the daily cost to me comes down to around £2.50. Everyone’s usage will be different and I certainly intend to review the value of the subscription when I come to renew next year.

For my usage I feel that Tracking is a justifiable add-on, although some people manage perfectly well without it. Paul M completed the TGO Challenge this year and kept his map updated by sending a check-in message at regular intervals, eliminating the need for the tracking add-on. Someone doing a very long hike may plan to only transmit their location once each day which will be adequate for tracking progress over the longer timescale and will save them on battery costs and weight. For me the tracking add-on is a convenience. I intend to use it as my primary method of tracking on longer outings and as the feature is unlimited I can use it to send off my location to Social Hiking on shorter trips.

Using the Spot Satellite GPS Messenger

The Spot 2 device is intended to be rugged and straight forward to use. It presents a basic interface comprising small, oval, recessed buttons and LEDs that flash either green or red.

As an aside, I think I’m so conditioned to a world of touch screens and detailed feedback now that the very basic Spot interface actually took me a few moments to get to grips with!

The user inputs to Spot through the four buttons on the front of the unit. These lack positive feedback, especially when wearing thicker gloves or mitts, so I have gotten into the habit of holding them down for a count of 5 to make sure my press registers. I imagine that they are designed like this to reduce the likelihood of accidental activation but it would be good if they were just a little bit larger in future.

The Spot device communicates its current mode and status to the user through flashing lights, one under each button, and a couple of additional lights for specific operations. These LEDs are not easily visible in direct sunlight but shading the unit with a hand is sufficient to see them. In overcast or dark conditions the LEDs are perfectly visible.

Spot works on the basis of providing reassurance to the user. For as long as a function is active, the LED will flash away so it’s not a case of possibly missing a single or limited LED flash. Turn the unit on and the power LED flashes every second until you turn it off. Activate the tracking function and both the power LED and the tracking LED flash every second. The story is similar for the OK/Check-In and Custom functions.

The other two LEDs on the unit are used to indicate communications with the satellite, either that the unit is fetching the current location, or that a message is being transmitted. These LEDs flash red if there is a problem with either of the satellite operations so that you know something has failed and your message, location or both has not been successfully transmitted. These are important lights as there is no other form of feedback to tell you that your message has been sent or not.

When I first turned on the unit from cold with new batteries it seemed to take quite some time for it to successfully locate me and start transmitting messages. However, since that first time it has worked successfully and when I have had phone signal I have been able to check that the message was transmitted almost instantly after pressing the function button. I am now confident in Spot, though I highly recommend taking it on a test outing the first time.

It remains to be seen whether this is an issue that will repeat once I change the batteries out. As I am out most weekends I have been leaving the batteries in the unit but this may not be optimal for the device.

It is also good to build Spot into your usual pre-walk routine, i.e. switch Spot on as soon as you get to your start point, set it down with a clear view of the sky, start tracking, and then send an ok/check-in message. Spot will then go through the process of getting its location, transmitting the check-in message and will then fall back into tracking mode. This can all be going on whilst you sort out your rucksack or have a bite to eat and then you can be on your way.

When out I have typically been sending an ok/check-in message when setting out, and then when I stop for a break on a summit or for lunch. At the end of the day I stop tracking and then send a custom message to indicate that I am setting up camp. At this point I let the unit go through the full send message cycle whilst I am putting up the tent and sorting dinner and then I switch the unit off for the night.

Field Testing

I’ve now used Spot for three different trips so this is by no means a comprehensive report, and certainly does not address reliability of the unit or battery life at present.

On a short day trip I found Spot of limited use, especially as my route involved a lot of forest walking. In this environment some of the track points failed to register and coupled with my fast pace the resulting track was inaccurate and incomplete. However, it did rain for the whole 3.5 hours and with the Spot exposed it seemed that the watertightness of the unit was good.

On a three day trip through the Ben Alder mountains I found the Spot excellent. I used it to update my friends and family on progress through the day and sent a final ok/check-in when I got to camp. I used the custom message to let them know I was back at the car. Spot also bounced these to Twitter where the Spot map was appended to the message. The family members who received the messages where happy to know of my progress and wellbeing. For future backpacking trips I’m going to use the custom message to check-in from camp at the end of the day, rather than sending another ok/check-in message as this is less ambiguous.

Finally, I had my Spot turned on for a recent trip through Fisherfield. This was primarily to update my Social Hiking map, and to test that the recently implemented tie-in to the auto-tweeting feature of Social Hiking was working, and this proved successful. I can now use the ok/check-in message and Social Hiking will Tweet on my behalf and append a link to my Social Hiking map. As Social Hiking uses Ordnance Survey mapping it is better than the Spot map which uses topographic data similar to that found in Google or Bing maps. The only slight concern on this trip was that I set Spot down at the end of the walk to send a custom message indicating we had finished. This message never transmitted although I didn’t notice any red LEDs flashing on the unit.

Updated Spot Field Testing

OK/Check-In Messages and Custom Messages

Unfortunately I haven’t been keeping a full track of my messages to determine exactly what has been sent or not but I do know of two specific instances of my Custom Message not being received. One of these was at Kinlochewe where where I left the Spot on the ground next to our coach in a shady car park. The second was when camping in a gorge besides the River Carnach. I suspect in both cases the unit struggled to send the message, despite my putting the Spot in as exposed a position as possible. My thoughts are that when restricted the unit can struggle to locate a satellite in the area of sky available and so the message is not transmitted successfully. I have now adopted a system of sending two Custom messages at the end of day hoping to increase the probability of a message getting through. On my most recent overnighter this resulted in both Custom messages getting through to recipients.

Tracking

Initially I was securing the Spot to my shoulder straps using the hydration tubing tethers, however, after a suggestion from Andy Bryant I have now started putting the device into my rucksack’s top pocket. In both examples (my small Haglofs daypack and my larger Osprey camping pack) this hasn’t had an adverse effect on tracking.

I used the Spot exclusively to track my progress over 4 days in the Northwest Highlands and on review found that the only major gap in coverage was in two cases where I was walking in dense woodland. I am now more than happy to keep the Spot in the top pocket. It should be noted that for sending ok and custom messages I am taking the Spot out of the top pocket and putting it flat on the ground with a clear view of the sky.

Brian Green has posted about a recent negative experience with Spot and this has resulted in numerous other commentators airing grievances about poor message delivery success. I would say that in my experience the Spot has been largely (>90%) successful and I certainly haven’t had a problem where messages were delayed. They have either been delivered almost instantly in most cases, or not at all in a small minority of instances. I will continue to monitor Spot and have now adjusted my messages slightly to suit conversations with those who are receiving them. This should ensure that a missed message doesn’t immediately start rescue actions!

Limitations

The limitations of the Spots tracking are largely only apparent on shorter trips. The ten minute gap, particularly if a couple of the transmissions are interrupted for some reason (e.g. being in a dense forest) can mean a significant portion of your track is missing. Spot does retain the last two positions and transmits these but if the problem was obtaining GPS lock in the first place then this doesn’t help. The ten minute interval also means that your track can be dramatically smoother than the going actually was on the ground.

Additionally Spot does not know or record elevation data and so you have to go through and add this in later if you wish to produce an elevation profile or calculate total ascent based on only the Spot tracking data.

These limitations are understandable in the context of Spot and the way it works and I am happy as I can still use my GPS to record a detailed track on shorter trips whilst using the Spot for longer adventures.

The other, and perhaps more important limitation of Spot, is the lack of direct communication back to you. The Spot is an all or nothing device. You either initiate a rescue, or you don’t. Happily in my time walking in the hills I have never had to contact Mountain Rescue and certainly wouldn’t contact them for something trivial, but the knowledge that pressing SOS on the Spot starts a potentially unstoppable chain of events will certainly make me cautious about using it.

The same also applies to the Help button which sends a pre-defined help message to your contacts. Again, this must be used with caution as the message is fixed and one way. I currently have this set-up to indicate that my progress has been hampered or my route has been changed significantly and that I will try and contact home via mobile within the next 2 hours. Hopefully this makes it a useful feature and again, doesn’t unnecessarily initiate a chain of unstoppable events.

Otherwise the Spot deliberately has a good deal of redundancy built into its processes and I am happy with anecdotal reports I have read of other users. Obviously there is no option to “test” the SOS function but Spot have reported a number of successful rescues being routed through their systems.

Social Hiking and Live Mapping

Integration with the media-rich live mapping website Social Hiking is very good. Instructions on how to use Spot are available through Social Hiking’s documentation. It’s worth noting that it took a short while for Social Hiking to recognise my Spot map. I assume this was to do with the Spot end refreshing its database or generating the public feed but am not entirely sure. Suffice it to say after a few minutes the error message that appeared in the Social Hiking interface disappeared and I had confirmation that my Spot map was correctly configured.

I used Spot tracking throughout my Ben Alder trip and on returning home found that I had an excellent recorded track. I also was able to see that Social Hiking had tweeted the start of my map each day. A new feature that has recently been rolled out means that whenever I send an ok/check-in message my Social Hiking map will get amended to give context to the check-in. The above Tweet was sent towards the end of my walk through Fisherfield.

Other Resources

I will update this section with any useful links/reviews/discussions I find regarding Spot.

Backpacking Light Spot Discussion - discussion thread regarding reports of an issue with the Spot system for a tragic boating accident off the Mexican coast
Spot review from Seattle Backpacker Magazine
Spot Youtube Channel