Book Review: Scottish Hill Tracks by ScotWays

Back in 1977 I bought two little booklets by D.G.Moir called Scottish Hill Tracks Southern Scotland and Scottish Hill Tracks Northern Scotland as part of my planning for a Land’s End to John O’Groats walk the next year. I’d done little walking in Scotland at the time and these booklets proved invaluable. I carried them all the way through Scotland. In future years they were useful for planning TGO Challenge walks.

The booklets were first published in 1947 and then revised for a second edition in 1975. There have been four subsequent editions with the latest just published as a handsome 396 page book by the Scottish Mountaineering Press on behalf of ScotWays (the Scottish Rights of Way and Access Society).

Every one of the 350 routes has been resurveyed for this sixth edition with around 130 ScotWays volunteers spending two years checking every one, which involved 7,600km of distance and 194,000 metres of ascent. The result is a book that I think is just as invaluable as the original booklets for anyone interested in walking in Scotland, especially long-distance walking. The wealth of information it contains is astonishing.

Scottish Hill Tracks is beautifully produced, as has come to be expected of the Scottish Mountaineering Press, with attractive maps and many colour photographs. The layout is clear and it’s easy to find the information you want. The routes are divided into 25 geographical sections from the Cheviot Hills to Caithness, each with a brief introduction including landscape, cultural and historical information plus an overview map of all the routes. Each route then starts with the OS Landranger map numbers, grid reference for the start and finish, distance, amount of ascent and descent, high point, and any alternative options.

This a lovely book that as well as practical is wonderful for browsing and daydreaming. I’ve planned several long walks already! I just have one complaint – the weight! At 680g I wouldn’t carry this on a long walk. My original booklets weigh 100g each. The new edition is far more comprehensive of course. Congratulations to all involved in its production.

The book costs £25 and is available from the Scottish Mountaineering Press. Highly recommended.

A High Camp & A Walk On Sgor Gaoith

Ben Alder at dusk from Carn Ban Mor

The longest spell of fine weather since May has brought the hottest temperatures of the year in the Cairngorms. Wanting to enjoy the sunshine I decided to head up high to camp for the second time this month, and for the second time since my two-month layoff due to a hand operation. That first trip (see here) went well but I did suffer aching legs the following days, something I am unused to! Due to that I decided not to push myself but to split a one-day walk in two.

The forecast was for sunshine both days with a touch of cloud and a gusty wind overnight. It was to prove almost correct. As the wind was from the SSE I picked a camp spot high on the slopes of Sgor Gaoith that should provide some shelter from that direction. It was somewhere I’d thought about camping before but had never got round to doing so.

Forest colour

I set off in afternoon sunshine through the lovely forest of the Invereshie & Inshriach National Nature Reserve in Glen Feshie. Stands of birches amongst the pines were showing the first touches of autumn colour.

As the path left the last trees behind the sun vanished too as flat grey clouds covered the sky. The air, already hot, became heavy and humid. No breeze blew and I was soon soaked in sweat. Reaching the broad ridge that runs above the deep trench holding Loch Eanaich I crossed the wide path to Sgor Gaoith into the damp shallow hollow of the Fuaran Diotach spring. Here there’s the ruin of a small stone shelter on the edge of a little pool with just enough flat ground in front of it for a tent.

This ruin is called Ross’s Bothy, apparently from a deer watcher who used it in the distant past. There is a steep path running up to it from Loch Eanaich called Ross’s Path. The age of the ruin isn’t certain. The Highland Historic Environment Record gives information from Ann Wakeling that “Mae Marshall, whose family were gamekeepers in Glen Einich believes that there was a bothy here in pre-sporting times”. 

Evening light at Fuaran Diotach

It is a lovely spot with water and shelter from southerly winds. A Colonel Thorton was here in 1786 and described it as “a charming spring”. Ian R. Mitchell  in Scotland’s Mountains Before The Mountaineers says Thornton may have made the first recorded ascent of Sgor Gaoith on this trip in time taken off from his usual activity of slaughtering the local wildlife. Thornton reckoned Sgor Gaoith was 18,000 feet high (it’s 3,668 feet/1118 metres) with a drop of 13,000 feet to Loch Eanaich! Mitchell suggests that “the potent mixture of excitement, heat and champagne had affected his judgement” (Thorton describes his party “depositing our champagne, lime, shrub, porter etc. in one of the large snow drifts” in his 1804 book A Sporting Tour).

Having pitched my tent I was delighted to see the clouds begin to break up and shafts of sunshine illuminate the landscape. Maybe the night would be clear. Maybe I would see the full moon, the Harvest Moon. Maybe.

Creag Meagaidh at dusk from Carn Ban Mor

An hour later I noticed bands of pink, orange and yellow streaking the sky to the west as the sun set. I was the wrong side of the ridge for the view. This was a site for the morning sun. The sky looked wonderful though so I grabbed my camera and hurried up the slope above camp, knowing the gorgeous light would not last long. When the landscape of Strathspey stretching out the hills in the west appeared I knew the effort was well worthwhile. Waves of ridges in shades of grey rolled away to Creag Meagaidh and Ben Alder under rippling bands of clouds above the sunset colours, glorious and mysterious. I gazed until the colour faded and darkness started to descend, remembering then that in my haste I hadn’t bothered to pick up my headlamp. Luckily it wasn’t far back to camp and the ground was fairly flat and soft – a wet foot was more likely than tripping over a rock.

The promise of clear skies was false. Soon the clouds were thick again. The forecast wind did begin though, sweeping the clouds past not far above. Only occasional gusts reached the tent, however. I woke a few times during the night. Once there was a faint glow from the cloud-shrouded moon. Once the tent was enveloped in mist, as it was when dawn came. The tent was soaked inside and out.

The clouds begin to clear

Knowing the day was meant to be hot and sunny I lingered in camp a while. The clouds did begin to lift and by mid-morning the sky was clear and I was on my way up Sgor Gaoith, thrilled as always by the dizzying views down the crags to Loch Eanaich. 

Loch Eanaich

Two others were on the summit and I was to see several more walkers during the day, though fewer than I expected given the weather.

Sgor Gaoith from Sgoran Dubh Mor

From Sgor Gaoith I continued along the ridge to Sgoran Dubh Mor, which is just seven metres lower, then turned onto the long north-west spur over Meall Buidhe and Geal Charn. Like the other two the latter is now classed as a subsidiary Top of Sgor Gaoith in Munro’s Tables but until the revision of 1981 it was listed as a separate mountain. Whatever their position in a list the traverse of these hills this is a good walk with splendid views. On this day Loch an Eilein stood out, a deep blue in the green forest.

Loch an Eilein

Geal Charn is a stony hill with steep bouldery slopes on its west side. I’ve never found a comfortable way down these, except when the snow is deep enough for skis. The difficult walking ends at the col with Creag Mhigeachaidh where a path runs south down to the forest and my outward path. Underfoot may have been much easier but down here the breeze that had kept me reasonably cool high up had gone and the heat was stifling. I was relieved to reach the shade of the pines. Later I heard that Aviemore was the hottest place in Britain that day at 25.5°C.

Cairn Gorm & Cairn Lochan

Across the shoulders of Sgor Gaoith & Braeriach to Creag an Leth-choin

Sgor Gaoith

Equinox or equilux? The nights are getting longer, don't forget the headlamp.

September Sunset

Today is the Autumn Equinox, which I've just learnt I've misunderstood all my life. Until a few hours ago I thought it was the day when the hours of light and dark were equal - after all the name means 'equal night'. Listening to the BBC weather forecast this morning my partner heard the word equilux - equal light - which neither of us had ever come across before. Was this another name for the equinox? No, turns out it's a different day and the one when the hours of light and dark are actually equal, the equinox being when they're only approximately equal. So why not just have the equilux? 

The Met Office explains the confusion. The equinox is when the sun is positioned exactly above the equator not when day and night are of equal length. "On the equinox, the length of day and night are only nearly equal. This is because the sun appears as a disk in the sky, and the top half rises above the horizon before the centre. As well as this sunlight is refracted by the Earth's atmosphere. The Sun, therefore, appears to rise before its centre at the horizon, giving more daylight than you might expect (12 hours 10 minutes on the equinox). The equilux is when day and night are equal and occurs a few days before the spring equinox, and a few days after the autumn equinox". 

It's nice to learn something new! But I am surprised I'd managed never to hear about the equilux all these years.

What matters in practical terms is that having a torch or headlamp with you becomes more important than it was not long ago. I carry a small one right through the summer but don't often use it except perhaps for finding items in the tent in the middle of the night. However as daylight hours shorten walking in the dark becomes more usual. It won't be long before starting or finishing with a headlamp becomes the norm. 

Every autumn mountain rescue teams are called out to people caught out without headlamps or torches as they haven't realised it gets darker sooner than a few weeks ago. By carrying a small headlamp year round I can't make this mistake. From this time of year onwards I carry a bigger headlamp with a longer lasting battery as well. It's much easier to swap headlamps than batteries. I also carry spare batteries or a power bank for headlamps with rechargeable batteries as well. 

If you're looking for a headlamp I've just reviewed eight for the November issue of The Great Outdoors. You can find my Best Buy, pictured below, on the TGO website 

High Summer Update: New Edition Almost Ready!

The Rockwall, Kootenay National Park, July 

The new edition of High Summer, the story of my walk along the length of the Canadian Rockies in 1988, is almost ready for publication. Andrew Terrill of Enchanted Rock Press has just sent me the typeset proofs of the print edition to check, which is exciting! 

As I mentioned in previous posts the new edition will have far more photographs than the first one. Indeed, my main work has been selecting and scanning slides to send to Andrew for him to process for publication. I've also written a new introduction looking back at the walk. The original text hasn't been altered though, I've just added a few footnotes. 

In the snow near the finish, October 

Now to check the proofs!

Hikers Toolkit - A Recommended Free App

 

Back in July I was asked if I'd have a look at a new free outdoors app called the Hikers Toolkit. I did and I liked it, which is why there's a quote from me on the website saying that the app "is useful and contains helpful information and links. It's easy to use and uncluttered with no confusing or unnecessary material. I think having the info together is valuable".

The app contains the following:
Grid reference
Basic mapping
Interactive compass
Grid magnetic angle
Timing and conversion calculators
Weather links
Sunrise/Sunset
Moon phase
Windchill calculator
Emergency procedures

All bar the weather links work offline. Those links give connections to the Met Office Mountain Weather Forecast, MWIS, and the Scottish Avalanche Information Service. Having these three together makes it easy to check them all at the same time.

I think the most useful tool for regular use in the hills is the grid reference, which you can see as just numbers or with your position on a basic map. The latter does have contour lines and is legible on a phone screen smeared with sunscreen and food and with my reflection as you can see in my photo! 

The most useful page of all is one that no-one wants to ever have to use and that's the Emergency one. However if an emergency does occur having clear information about what to do would be valuable. In an actual situation I can imagine it would be easy not to remember everything. Having instructions could be helpful and calming.

This free app is well having on your phone even if you rarely use it. At the moment it's only available for Android phones via Google Play but it should be available for iOS soon. 

Video clips from recent camp on Cairngorm Plateau

 

Two little videos taken early in the morning on September 8 on the trip described in my last post. The one with me taken on my Sony a6700 camera, the one with my shadow on the Oppo Reno 8 Pro smartphone. Not much difference than I can see.

I really should wake up a bit more before making videos though!

First Overnight Trip In Two Months: The Cairngorm Plateau & Ben Macdui

Sunrise on the Cairngorm Plateau

With a sunny couple of days forecast it looked ideal for an overnight trip in the hills, the first for two months following an operation on a hand. Not wanting to push my hand, which is still not fully better, or my fitness, which has suffered due to the layoff I decided a relatively short trip in familiar territory was a good idea. I didn’t want to deal with storms either, just see how my hand and body deals with a return to walking with a full load and sleeping in a tent.

At this time of year I avoid camping in forests or glens due to the midges unless it’s really windy. As only light breezes were forecast a camp high on the Cairngorm Plateau seemed sensible. An afternoon start was somewhat delayed by two meetings, the first before I’d left the car park. Here a couple who’d read my books recognized me and we had a short chat. It’s always good to talk to readers.

Next I met a publisher! I hadn’t gone far along the path when I met Bob Davidson and Moira Forsyth, once of Sandstone Press, who were finishing the round of the Northern Corries. It was great to see them. I will always be grateful to Bob for publishing my book on my Pacific Northwest Trail walk, Grizzly Bears and Razor Clams, which had been turned down by other publishers on the basis that no-one had heard of the PNT and therefore no-one could be interested in it and why didn’t I write a book on the Lake District anyway, they always sell? Bob went on to publish another three of my books.

Cairn Lochan

Anyway, back to the walk. This isn’t a plug for my books, honest! As I crossed below the Northern Corries and started the climb to Miadan Creag an Leth-choin a few people passed me descending, including a mountain biker bouncing down the rocks, but I had no further excuse to stop and chat. Progress wasn’t fast anyway, the heat saw to that. Last time I walked in such hot weather was at the start of the Cape Wrath Trail back in May. Slowness was fine. I wasn’t going far and I was revelling being back in the mountains. The sun was bright, the sky deep blue, the temperature high, but the land showed the ending of summer, the grasses faded, an orange and brown tint replacing the green. The cliffs of Cairn Lochan glowed in the sunshine.

Late afternoon on the Plateau

Reaching the Cairngorm Plateau I started to think about where to camp. I’d set out just thinking I would pitch my tent ‘somewhere up there’. Now I was ‘up there’ I had to decide where ‘somewhere’ was. I considered the long Feith Buidhe valley where I’d camped many times. No, not this time. I went on to the next stream, the Garbh Uisge Beag. I couldn’t remember ever camping here. I would rectify that now. I wandered a little way down beside the burn and found a good grassy site not far above the water with a view east to Beinn Mheadhoin and north to Cairn Gorm.

The red light of dawn

I settled in for a peaceful night. A gentle breeze whispered in the grasses. A hot meal, a bit of reading, time for sleep. I woke early, the first grey light creeping into the tent. Out to the east the sky was red above the shadowed hills. Dawn was beginning. No more sleep! Streaks of cloud above Cairn Gorm turned pink and orange in the first rays of the still hidden sun.

Sunrise soon

An hour after I woke the sun appeared, a searing white disc rising through redness over the shoulder of Beinn Mheadhoin. Soon the heat started to rise too. Another hot day was beginning. The night had been quite warm anyway given the height (1150 metres) with a low of 10°C. Shorts, sun hat, and dark glasses again.

Camp

The summit of Ben Macdui was less than 2km away. Leaving the tent I headed over the North Top, it’s flat summit strewn with circular rock walls protecting bivi sites, and on to the trig point where a couple of snow buntings hopped around waiting for crumbs. Too soon after breakfast for me to be stopping for a snack but I could see others in the distance heading this way so I guessed the little birds wouldn’t have too long to wait.

Cairn Toul & clouds

As always unless the mist is down I walked west a few hundred metres to where the slope begins to fall steeply into the Lairig Ghru pass. Along this edge are the best views from Ben Macdui, right across the pass to the great mountains of Cairn Toul and Braeriach. This is a spectacular vista only the top of which is seen from the very top of Ben Macdui. Few people see it though.

Rock spike & Braeriach

There’s a spike of rock here, stood up, I guess, by someone in the distant past. I always head for it, a marker for the view, a familiar and distinctive stone amongst a mass of rocks. I feel a connection with whoever erected it.

Cloud over Strathspey

To the north the sky was grey and hazy. A band of low white cloud hung over Strathspey. Here it was hot and bright. Back at camp I drank water and nibbled energy bars before packing up and heading along the stream towards the steep drop-off above the Loch Avon basin. A walker was coming towards me, which was unusual as there’s no path here and I rarely see anyone in this area. Behind me I could see a distant line of people heading for Macdui along the well-trodden main route.

As we approached each other the man veered towards me. “Do you know these hills well?” “Fairly well”. “I’m not sure where I am”. “Where are you heading?” “Ben Macdui, I think I’m going the right way but my watch keeps telling me I’m not”.  He had a print-out of the route from a guidebook or website and a watch that was pointing him towards the nearest point on the path to Macdui. This however was in the wrong direction, given where he was. “Just keep following this stream and you’ll hit the main path. It’s not far”. He assured me he had a real map in his pack though he didn’t produce it. He’d seen Loch Avon so I guessed he must have come down Coire Domhain and then round the edge of the cliffs but I couldn’t be certain and he couldn’t give me enough information to work it out.

Feith Buidhe & Loch Avon

He continued on towards Macdui. I continued on to the edge of the drop to the Loch Avon Basin then followed it round to where the racing water of the Feith Buidhe begins its crashing, roaring descent. This is always a tremendous spot; rugged, dramatic, wild. I love it.

View from the top of Hell's Lum

From the Feith Buidhe I wandered round to the top of Hell’s Lum Crag and then into Coire Domhain where I picked up a narrow path. This is used by climbers to reach the top of the cliffs and two of them were coming towards me now, one with a rope draped across her shoulders. She stopped. “Chris?”. It was Jessie Leong, a writer, mountaineer, photographer and more, whom I’d only spoken to before on zoom calls when we were judges for an outdoor gear award. Now we’d met for the first time, in the heart of the Cairngorms. She and her companion were off to do a couple of routes on Hell’s Lum.

"Is this the start of the Fiacaill?"

At the head of the corrie I could see figures along the edge of the Northern Corries, as I expected on a sunny Saturday as it’s popular and easily accessible. Soon I joined them for the last stretch of my walk to the descent route down the Fiacaill a’ Choire Chais. In no hurry and with the sun beating down I ambled along the edge of the cliffs above Coire an t-Sneachda admiring the buttresses and pinnacles. Leaving the path for a viewpoint right on the edge I noticed a party of six were following me. “Is this the start of the Fiacaill ridge?” I looked at the steep drop below. “Er, no. Definitely not”. I pointed out the big cairn at the top of the ridge, a kilometre or so away. “That’s where you want to go”. He said something about descending from a saddle into Coire Cas so they could get back to the car park. I advised against descending the Coire Cas headwall and again pointed them to the Fiacaill cairn.

This is the start of the Fiacaill

I left them eating sandwiches and carried on to point 1141 and that big cairn. Here I sat in the sun and thought of all the times I’d sheltered behind the cairn from rain, and wind, and snow, and of how glad I’d been when it emerged reassuringly from the mist during blizzards and I knew my navigation skills hadn’t let me down. The party of six passed me and started down the ridge. Soon I followed. I’d thought it hot on the Plateau. Now it felt like I was descending into a furnace. I reached the car soaked in sweat.

Early morning light over Beinn Mheadhoin

The trip was a success. A great walk and camp in perfect weather in a favourite place. My hand was sore but not enough to intrude on my enjoyment. I still seemed to be reasonably fit. It won’t be another two months before I’m out again.

A Look At The October Issue Of The Great Outdoors

The October issue of The Great Outdoors is out now. In it I review the Altra Lone Peak 8 trail shoes that I wore on the Cape Wrath Trail. That's it for single reviews for me this month but I am quoted extensively in the Gear Of The Year 2024 feature as I tested quite a few of the products. Not all of them though, and one of those, the Flextail Zero Pump, which wins Best Tech and which is reviewed in more detail separately by David Lintern, I am going to buy. It sounds excellent! David also reviews the superb MidgeSpecs, which I reviewed on this blog, which also gets the Best Accessory award. 

In the comparative reviews Lucy Wallace tries out eight pairs of trekking poles and David Lintern and Kirsty Pallas test out the comfort of four sleeping mats each. 

The theme of the issue is long-distance hikes. John Fleetwood walks England end to end from St. Michael's Mount to Lindisfarne Abbey. Marek Bidwell backpacks the original Skye Trail from Armadale to Rubha Hunish. Then there's an incredibly long walk that took Bethany Hughes seven years; 18,000 miles from Patagonia to the Arctic. In the Middle East David Myers makes an extraordinary and sobering solo 1000-mile circuit of the Jordan River watershed.

Elsewhere in the issue Sarah Hobbs of Strathspey Storywalks is Creator of the Month; Ronald Turnbull reviews Everest 24: New Views on the 1924 Mount Everest Expedition from the Royal Geographical Society; Jim Perrin's Mountain Portrait looks at fine but often ignored Beinn Dearg in Torridon; Nadia Shaikh hopes for a Right to Raom policy in England and Wales in the Opinion column; Phillipa Cherryson finds out why Rhayader calls itself the outdoor capital of Wales; Alex Roddie looks at how to make outdoor adventures more sustainable; and Emma Schroeder finds an eclectic mix of interesting things in British streets including rubber ducks, sarcastic weather, and proprietary cats. 

Wild Walks has a bothy theme. In the Scottish Highlands Stefan Durkacz visits Luib Chonnal bothy and climbs two nearby Corbetts while Alex Roddie walks the Affric-Kintail Way past Camban bothy and the remote Glen Affric Youth Hostel, and takes a tough walk to Ben Alder Cottage bothy. In the Southern Uplands Ian Battersby goes to Clennoch Bothy and Moorbrock Hill, and in Dumfries & Galloway visits Greensykes Bothy. In the Lake District James Forrest spends a night in the area's most remote bothy, Mosedale Cottage, and goes up Branstree while Vivienne Crow overnights in Dubs Hut as she links two long ridges over High Stile and Dale Head. In the technically bothyless Peak District Francesca Donovan goes up Kinder Scout via Oyster Clough Cabin. Finally in Wales Andrew Galloway finds shelter in Dulyn Bothy in the Carneddau and Phillipa Cherryson stays in Grwyne Fawr Bothy in the Black Mountains and ascends Waun Fach.