We left the car just outside of the deserted hamlet of Bowscale on a baking hot June afternoon, both of us smothered in sun cream and each carrying a pack for the night. Initially we counted our blessings for the idyllic summer conditions; pale blue skies framing fells carpeted with lush greens and yellows, there was also the promise of some […]Read more "missing the summit not missing the point"
Another night, another run out to the dark peak. The Saturday nearest to solstice was warm and cloudy and gave no need to pack any more than the bare essentials; in this case a sleeping bag with a bivi, a new light airbed, a head torch, some instant coffee, pasta, a pot and a meths stove. […]Read more "ten miles in, ten miles out"
Whilst the light has been long, time has been short. About a month ago there were just hours to make for the national park on the doorstep to run with a light pack till its too dark to carry on, spend the night in a bivi and run back at dawn. I packed light so all […]Read more "Running on the moors and sleeping in a bag"
One of those grim grey Saturdays in April where it lashed it down all day but suddenly brightened up an hour before sunset. Just enough to time to head north and meander up and down Mam Tor against a freezing wind to the find the season’s last patches of snow to hurl at each other. The best […]Read more "The lengths we’ll go to for a snowball fight"
It all started off innocently enough, ambling through a quiet Kinlochleven on a damp grey Saturday to begin a four day backpack around the Mamores at the tail end of Winter. The town was deserted and smelt like woodsmoke, the only people I did see were nipping out to the shops and back home to warm fires. In the forest surrounding […]Read more "The Mamores: The Mountains that stole my trousers"
Sandwiched between bursts of hail that gave the impression that the sky was collapsing, we headed for The Golden Road and walked along the long ridge that crests the Preseli Mountains. We made our way over miles of wild grassy moorland and jumped over puddles of slick black mud and deep bogs to reach the top of Foel […]Read more "Picnic on Mynydd Preseli"
Just a quick post to say that Rufus and I can be found among the pages of the latest copy of The Great Outdoors in a feature called ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ that tells a story of his first backpacking adventure, a walk and a wild camp in the north western fells undertaken last […]Read more "The Great Outdoors"