Wednesday Nov 28, 2018
The other weekend I headed across the water, with my lovely wife, to the wonderful island of Raasay for an ascent of Dùn Caan, the flat topped highest point where Johnson and Boswell danced a jig in 1773. I also brought an old friend.
Sunday Oct 28, 2018
I really should have been bivvying on the hill last night. A night of long moon and washed out starlight glinting on the Cuillin snow fields. This morning was stunningly clear and cold with snow patches lingering in the garden as we headed round to the Blaven car park for a bimble up An Stac.
Saturday Oct 27, 2018
I went to bed with the rattle of hail on the lum and the fast swish of storm driven snow on the roof, to awaken on Saturday morning to a bright and fresh world of newly lain white.
Saturday Sep 15, 2018
The first reports of snow in the Cairngorms were coming through shortly before I set off up the north west coast with Penguin, heading for Sandwood Bay and the bothy at Strathchailleach for a midweek visit. We’d decided to leave it until later in the year to avoid the hell of social media zombies moving from site to site in search of likes and shares.
Sunday Jul 8, 2018
A restful night at Glenmore Lodge on Tuesday after my day on Bynack Mòr saw me woken at 7 am on Wednesday morning by a chainsaw in the woods next door, so I popped down for a hearty breakfast consisting of an overflowing bowl of freshly made porridge, washed down with a mug of coffee and an orange juice and I was ready for the hill.
Friday Jul 6, 2018
There’s nothing simpler in life than leaving behind the mad world and walking through a forest of native pines, the glint of a green lochan glimpsed through the trees and striding out towards a horizon of hills.
Sunday Feb 11, 2018
On the rellie trip to Shropshire each year I always like to get out for a walk through the green and pleasant land. Leafing through the leaflets with a local 1:25K map on my lap, looking for a gem of a route never disappoints and last year I spied a cracking walk from Ironbridge to Wellington over the Wrekin.
Thursday Jan 25, 2018
I’ve never really understood terms like ‘fundamental truth’ or ‘universal truth’, ideas which tend to be bandied around in the outdoor press by those approaching as much of celebrityhood as bearded tramps can. I always wondered what they were seeing that I wasn’t.
Saturday Jan 13, 2018
Rain pattered the window as I fell out of bed under a sky leaden with long exposure clouds smearing and mingling over the tops, not sure what to do. The forecast was a storm on the way, barrelling in from the Atlantic but a few hours of indecisive weather before it came in gave us a chance of a walk and some views. A jaunt up Ben Suardal with Mrs. Woman was just the ticket.
Sunday Jan 7, 2018
Sunday morning on dark, salt encrusted roads, a large moon riding high in the pre dawn sky as I drove across to Cluanie to make the most of the superb forecast of clear skies, light winds and lots and lots of snow. With the hotel car park locked I pulled up in the ice streams on the old road just past it, my nostrils freezing up as I pulled on big winter boots, slid the axe behind my neck and clumbed back along the road under the silver snow-shining mountains of Kintail.