A Look At The November Issue Of The Great Outdoors

 In the November issue of The Great Outdoors I review eight head torches and the Paramo Alta Trek trousers. Also in the gear pages Kirsty Pallas and James Roddie review four pairs of warm gloves each.

There's a Scottish theme to this issue as it's the annual TGO Challenge one with stories and pictures from this year's event. Alex Nail describes the many trips and false starts needed in the four years it took to compile his latest photographic book on the NW Highlands, The Great Wilderness (which I review here) in a photo essay packed with mouthwatering images. Also in the NW Highlands Gemma Smith explores Assynt and looks at the Gaelic placenames and the history of the area.

Away from Scotland, and indeed Britain, Rudolf Abraham walks across the Massif de Vercors in France and finds solitude, beauty and wildlife.

In the shorter pieces composer and violinist Lisa Robertson is Creator of the Month, Mary Ann-Ochota argues there is a place for music in the hills in the Opinion column, Jim Perrin looks at Mow Cop in Cheshire in his Mountain Portrait, James Roddie looks at Portree on the Isle of Skye as a base for a weekend, Maymana Arefin gives a beginner's guide to mushroom identification, and Emma Schroeder falls for autumn in her Notes From The Edge column. 

As the autumn colours develop in the woods Wild Walks concentrates on forests in this issue.In Scotland Craig Weldon explores the pines of Culbin Forest in Moray, Alex Roddie climbs little Creag Bheag above Kingussie through the woodlands on its flanks and also visits Loch an Eilein and Rothiemurchus Forest in the Cairngorms where he ascends another little hill, Ord Ban. In England Ian Battersby explores Kidland Forest and Bloodybush Edge in Northumberland, Vivienne Crow visits the fragments of temperate rainforest in Borrowdale and on Castle Crag in the Lake District, Norman Hadley doesn't find many trees on Ward's Stone and Grit Fell in the Forest of Bowland, and Fiona Barltrop enjoys the autumn colours on Alder Hill and Fritham Plain in the New Forest. In Wales Phillipa Cherryson does find trees on a walk over Ysgyryd Fach and Ysgyryd Fawr above Abergavenney in Monmouthshire, Roger Butler climbs Moel Hebog and descends into the jumble of Beddgelert Forest in Eryri/Snowdonia, and Ian Battersby visits Stackpole Woods and Stackpole Head in Pembrokeshire.

October Snow in the Cairngorms

"It's like the North Pole!" The Cairngorm Weather Station

Snow has been lying high in the Cairngorms for the last few days so I thought I’d go up and have a look. Snow in October isn’t unusual. It also isn’t unusual for it to thaw and then no more fall for several weeks or even a couple of months. Snow now is no indication of the type of winter to come. With warmer temperatures forecast the next few days I expect this early touch of winter will soon be over.

The snow had fallen down to 600 metres but had mostly thawed at this level. Freezing conditions had then frozen the melt water and formed icy patches on the path up the east ridge of Coire na Ciste and there was verglas on some stones. I soon learnt not to tread on the latter as the thin veneer of ice was impossible to see. Much more and I’d have worn the micro spikes I was carrying. However as soon as I reached the freezing level the slipperiness disappeared. The snow and the rocks were dry. Higher up the snow had drifted and was shin deep in places, barely covering the stony ground in others.

On the ascent.View across Coire Laogh Mor.

The sky was overcast but the clouds were high, well above the summits, and quite thin – occasionally the hazy white disk of the sun appeared. The intermittent breeze was bitterly cold. This was winter.

As Cairn Gorm came into view I could see a few people descending the main path, the first I’d seen. I shared the summit with just one other walker who looked up at the rime ice clad weather station and called out “it’s like the North Pole!”.

I wandered round for a short while looking at the views and taking photographs. Handling the camera with just thin gloves on froze my hands and before heading down I changed to thicker ones. I had my hood up over my wool hat and there was ice in my beard.

Ben Macdui

Across the frozen Cairngorm Plateau clouds touched the summit of Ben Macdui. Across the rocky Northern Corries Braeriach was backed by a line of undulating white cloud with solid grey above it. All was colourless, cold and hard. But still grand and harshly beautiful. I love this landscape.

View across the Northern Corries to Braeriach

Turning away I descended the same way. Once out of the bitter breeze I stopped for a snack and a hot drink, sitting on my pack. A walker passed me also heading down, grunting a brief hello. He didn’t look happy. Probably because he was carrying skis. I’d seen nowhere with enough snow for more than a few turns. The air had warmed slightly lower down and the ice had melted off the rocks and was crunchy rather than slippery on the path.

The first day out in winter conditions each autumn always feels significant, the start of a different outdoor season.

Almost To The End: Back On The Cape Wrath Trail

Ben Stack from Lone

Back in June I decided to stop my Cape Wrath Trail walk at Inchnadamph, some 47 miles/75km from the finish, due to an unseasonally cold and windy storm (see here). I didn’t feel like battling into the weather just to reach the end especially as it’s not too far from home so I could easily return later when the weather was better.

Early October looked promising and so it was for a few days but then another big storm blew down from the north. With gusts forecast to reach 55mph/88kph at sea level finding sheltered camp sites would be difficult and walking into the wind arduous. After the first day of this storm I decided retreat was again a sensible choice even though I was only 7 miles/11km from Cape Wrath (plus twice that distance to then reach the nearest road). I will go back again!

The weather was benign when I set off with Tony Hobbs, who’d been with me for the last five days of the June walk, with a mix of sunshine, high clouds, and light breezes. We climbed steadily to the last high pass as you head north, 623 metre Bealach na h-Uidhe, then crossed boggy terrain dotted with little pools and streams. Here we met the only other CWT walkers, a couple heading south to Fort William. They assured us the terrain got wetter and boggier further north and wet feet were inevitable. They were in leather boots, we were in trail shoes. We didn’t expect dry feet. Perhaps they did.

Camp below the Eas a' Chual Aluinn

A steep descent took us down to the Abhainn an Loch Bhig and a camp opposite the highest waterfall in Britain, the Eas a’ Chual Aluinn, which has a 200-metre drop. As there hadn’t been much rain for a while this was a thin tracery of water over the cliffs rather than a tremendous torrent, though we could still here it’s roar and it still looked impressive. We could here other roaring too. This is the rutting season and red deer stags were in full deep-throated cry, a sound that accompanied us throughout the walk. Autumn colours, russet, gold, orange, made the landscape shine, another feature every day.

Loch Beag

The next section of the walk, from Eas a’Chual Aluinn to Loch Glendhu via Loch Glencoul, is one of the most glorious of the whole route in my opinion. It’s not long, around 8 miles/12km, but the going is tough in places and anyway this is not a place to rush through but to savour. This landscape is rugged, rocky, rough and complex, mixing sea and mountain in a wonderful array of forms and patterns. 

The Stack of Glencoul, Eas a'Chual Aluinn, & Loch Beag

Initially the big waterfall and the great rock buttress of the Stack of Glencoul stand out in the views as the route passes along Loch Beag and then climbs above Loch Glencoul to round a promontory. Here the views are of Loch Glendhu and a line of slanting coloured cliffs. 

Loch Glendhu

The boggy path, such as it was, angled muddily down steep slopes through thick vegetation, rocks, and patches of lovely birch woodland to eventually reach the loch shore. Here in places we were walking on seaweed below huge boulders that had come down long ago from the cliffs high above. At the highest tides the path must be underwater here.

Below the high tide mark!

Rain was starting and the wind picking up as we reached Glendhu Bothy so we decided to stay. No-one else was there and from the bothy book it seemed not many had stayed recently. The space and shelter was welcome.

Bothy kitchen

The weather had changed and wind and rain were now the norm for the rest of the walk. The walk alongside Loch Glendhu was pleasant but then the rain began.

Beside Loch Glendhu

I had intended to take the route over 510 metre Ben Dreavie and round the west end of Ben Stack but the summit was in cloud and I didn’t fancy a boggy plod in the mist so we opted to descend to the road at Achfary and pass Ben Stack to the east before wandering along the track by Loch Stack to the abandoned building at Lone where we found a reasonably sheltered site with a view of the fine mountain Arkle rising into the clouds. This was the only day when the walking was on good paths and tracks the whole way.

Camping at Lone

Day 4 of the trip was the opposite and mostly on rough boggy ground with only a poor intermittent path. The wind blew and it rained on and off. We were heading for the road at Rhiconich as we wanted to reach the shop called London Stores to resupply the next day. A long line of narrow lochs linked by streams and with a minor watershed at 77 metres runs almost straight from Lone to Rhiconich. No route finding problems here, just a case of plodding on through the bogs. 

Ben Stack

Above us Arkle and Ben Stack faded in and out of the clouds. Magnificent Foinaven, the biggest mountain in the area, showed itself occasionally too as the day progressed. Iain Harper’s Cape Wrath Trail guidebook says there is a potentially difficult ford of the Garbh Allt in this section but though knee deep it wasn’t a problem. The next day it would have been as heavy rain fell all night.

Fording the Garbh Allt

The boggy ground, as through most of the walk, was deer-trodden and bitten. There were very few trees. I wrote about this back in June re my earlier CWT walk. It applies just as much to this northern section. We had hoped to camp by the Rhiconich River somewhere in the last few kilometres before the road but could nowhere suitable amongst the sodden tussocks. In the end we walked up the road a little then turned off down a track to some sheep pastures that were bumpy but at least dry and somewhat sheltered from the increasing wind.

En route to Rhiconich

Having resupplied at the excellent London Stores the next day we set off for the cross-country route to Sandwood Bay, the alternative being to walk up the road for some 5 miles/8km and then take a track. I don’t like road walking so chose the off-road route. This was a mistake. The way over low moorland hills to Strath Shinary is wet, boggy and rough. The walk down the strath and alongside Sandwood Loch is wetter, boggier, and rougher- some of the toughest walking on the whole CWT. Maybe on a hot sunny day it would seem worth it. In wind and rain it wasn’t. The wind had shifted to the north-east and was strengthening and getting colder. From a weather forecast at London Stores we knew it was meant to gust to over 40mph overnight and then increase the next day. We’d be fighting it all the way to Cape Wrath if we went on.

Sandwood Bay comes into view.

We reached Sandwood Bay at dusk. Finding a sheltered site proved difficult. As we’d decided to head out to the road the next day we started along the path south and found some protection from the wind in a bog by Loch Clais nan Coinneal. It was wet and bumpy but we wouldn’t be blown away.

Rainbow in the rain

The next morning we walked out to the John Muir Trust car park in wind and rain, which were at least behind us. At one point a rainbow curved over the moors. We met two pairs of day walkers heading to Sandwood Bay. Both asked us the same question “is it worth it”?  Yes, I replied, it’s beautiful, even in a storm. And it is.