camping – Straight Walking – Live Better Coaching

Fan Llia, Bannau Brycheiniog

This trip was to Bannau Brycheiniog.

Specifically Fan Llia in the central part of the park was the destination for this particular trip, one which had a mixed bag of a start, but ended up being a very splendid hike and camp indeed.

It started as most of my hikes do, on the Friday when I usually travel to my destination, and although my trip went as well as could be expected, my buddy’s trip started well but ended up being something of a headache. As he got close to the park up, his Sat-Nav didn’t take him to the exact location we were supposed to meet, and in this remote location with poor signal he found himself flying around all over the place. However, after a little bit of exploring he finally found the spot, parked up, used a little bit of colourful language, and we both got ready for the hike up the hill.

Neither of us had been to this particular location before and we were both exited to see what we could see. As usual we had planned a route we thought would give us the best experience, but I don’t really think either of us expected to follow it precisely, we never do. But onwards and upwards we went following what we thought was the path, and in true hillwalking fashion it became a little bit sketchy from time to time, but nevertheless we made good time navigating back to the path whenever we found it, panting like a couple of old pit ponies.

Soon enough though we had made it to the first crest, and in the distance we saw the peak of the hill that was our destination. About another half an hour and we were there, and having already made the decision to spend the night there we started the usual hunt for the best spot to pitch. It had been raining quite a bit in the previous 24hrs and a lot of the area was still fairly soggy. But a bit of toing and froing later we had found what we considered to be the best spot. It was slightly down the ridge from the peak, well drained, and had great views. Besides it was getting dark and we were both pretty knackered from the long drive and starting to get hungry.

It didn’t take long to get pitched, it never does, we’re both pretty experienced and apart from a little bit of senior reconsideration regarding the exact position of the tent we both got the stoves lit, water boiled, and food eaten. Now, it’s usually at this point, after setting up, feeding, and starting to feel a bit more like social animals that we crack open the bar. Tonight was no exception. We both had our favourites with us, him with his 0% beer, and me with a fully leaded Rioja. It was either that or the Malbec because I brought two with me this time. Choices choices.

Being one of the quieter spots in the park, and nowhere near any of the honeypot locations that appeal to the Instagram generation, we knew that there would be no rush to get up and packed away in the morning, so we took full advantage and stayed up late chatting away about all the stuff you do on these occasions. After so many years of heading out on my own solo trips I now find having company a very pleasant change, and staying up late chatting outside somewhere remote in good company with a nice wine is one of the more pleasant parts of any trip these days.

But, at some point two tired old men went to bed and slipped into their respective pits for a well deserved and much needed sleep.

In true Brecon fashion, as anyone who has ever been there will tell you, the weather must have taken a bit of a turn in the night, because early in the morning there was almost zero visibility because of low cloud, and the rain had started to fall. Steadily at first, but then much heavier. Having been out for the usual morning relief and crawled back into my bag before the heavy rain started, I lay there listening to the tapping of the drops as they hit the fly, thinking that this was going to be a pretty miserable weekend getting soaked in the cold with no real means of drying off.

You see, I had made the unforgivable schoolboy error of not taking my waterproofs with me. Having diligently checked the mountain weather forecast for days beforehand, I felt confident that the rain had passed earlier and was going to be clear for the weekend. But this is Brecon, and no such assumptions should ever be made. Lady Wales is not generally known for going easy on folks like us, especially when we should know better.

Lying in my pit and listening to what was now hard rain, I felt my spirits drop and my mood changed to one of building up for the endurance challenge that lay ahead.

But as I said this is Brecon, and things change, usually quite quickly. For about 15 mins the rain came down hard, and then as quickly as the downpour started, it stopped. Thinking I needed to take advantage of the pause I got myself up and started to make a brew while I got properly dressed, but as I did this the most amazing thing happened. The cloud we were in cleared away leaving some spectacular views to the lake below and across to the other side of the valley. Not only that, but the cloud at altitude started to part and diminish as well, bringing with it the hopeful rays of early morning sunlight. The Skylarks wasted no time whatsoever in lifting themselves into the air and singing for all they were worth.

For me, the song of the Skylark is synonymous with hiking, summer, and all that’s good with the world. For most of the year they can be heard singing their hearts out wherever you go, and I have had the pleasure of their company during some of the best and worst moments in my life. So whenever I can hear their song, I know I’m in the right place at the right time. And on this morning they heralded what was to become a stunningly beautiful morning.

With my brew in hand I stood there and just took it all in, the views, the peace, and the warmth of the sun as the breeze began to drop. I was in my church.

Not long after that my buddy woke and started to make moves. A bit of a chat about the rain etc. and before we knew it breakfast was on the go.

Now, this is something I really do have to talk about. Breakfast. For many years breakfast was porridge, basic simple, filling. Then came the all day breakfast MRE, a good another reasonable choice if you like that sort of thing, and I’ve been having these for a while now, and I’ve been happy with them.

The last time I went out with my buddy he gave me one of his pocket eggs to include into the MRE, and I have to say that it gave the experience a whole new dimension. It added more texture and taste, and made it even more filling, and so this weekend the egg was added again. Only this time another addition was made. Along with the pocket eggs my buddy had brought some of those fancy meat crisps made from real pancetta, or chorizo, with the intention of adding those to the MRE along with the egg.

What was created can only be described as the very best breakfast meal I have ever had on any hill anywhere, ever. This is no exaggeration, I can honestly say that what I ate that morning was nothing short of spectacular. A basic mylar bag of baked beans with skull scraping sausage, fatty bacon bits, and reconstituted egg is normally a good start to any hikers day. But with the addition of a pocket egg and a bag of dried meaty crisps, elevated this breakfast bag into something truly incredible. I heartily recommend it to anyone willing to give it go, you will not be disappointed.

So, after the hearty repast above we steadily packed up our kit (we were in no rush) and made our way back to the top of the ridge and headed out for the day. Our planned route was a simple figure of eight, along the ridge, around the head of the valley to the other side then across it going down then back up, to a point where we would cross our initial path on the ridge, then back to the vehicles after spending another night somewhere.

But like most of our walks this was only guidance, and not a detailed route to be precisely followed.

The first part of the walk that morning took us along the main ridge which was fairly easy going to be fair, and we made good progress as we chatted away.

By the time we had made it to the head of the valley we were feeling ready for a break and something to eat. So we took our packs off, settled down, and I got a brew on the go. Along the way we were keeping an eye out for likely spots to pitch for the night and decided that we would continue on for a while given that there was still plenty of daylight left, and make our way back to somewhere near to where we were and pitch for the night. A sound plan indeed.

The weather had only improved during the day. The temperature had risen and the wind dropped even further, making the walk incredibly pleasant. With barely a cloud in the sky the April sun shone down on us, beating off the usual chill that would normally accompany this time of year. Cool enough not to sweat profusely, warm enough to not need many layers, and the bright sun just lit up the landscape before us, affording some incredible views of Fan Brycheiniog to the west, and Corn Ddu and Pen Y Fan to the east.

So after a bit of food and a brew, we hitched up and set off to roughly where we were supposed to be going around the head of the valley. Once on the other side, and having had a closer look at the next stage of the walk the decision was made to alter the route so that we would end up where we wanted to be and at the time we wanted to be there. So instead of climbing the hill facing us we set off down into the valley with the intention of crossing at the bottom and making our way back up towards the head.

As I said before, this was not one of the more popular areas and as such from this point on the paths, which were not always clear anyway, became impossible to follow, and ultimately ran out. We were in CRoW designated land, and as such we were permitted to walk where we liked (but always with due care and consideration), and wandered our way down the valley side to where a number of water features made navigation a tad more interesting than we bargained for, but undeterred we carried on winding our way through the long grass and over the odd water feature heading back uphill towards our pitch for that night.

After about four false crests we finally found a suitable spot and busied ourselves getting set up, pitching tents, laying out sleep kit and readying the stoves. We’d actually made pretty good time and had set up well before dark which gave us an opportunity for a well deserved nap.

One of the very best things (amongst many others) about being in one of the more remote and less visited areas is the ability to pitch early and really enjoy the area without the scornful looks of passing hikers heaping judgement upon you. I know it’s not really the done thing, but pitching early means you can really relax, unwind, and appreciate the views in peace with a good feed and a mug of something nice.

The sun as it fell behind the hills to the west was nothing short of magical, providing a show of yellows and oranges that left us watching until there was nothing left to see but the stars and the satellites. After a lot more chatting and a bit more wine it was time for bed again thinking I was in for another great night’s sleep. I could not have been more wrong.

I spent the entire night waking every few minutes (at least that what it felt like) feeling incredibly cold on my legs. Normally I get changed into my thermal long johns and a matching top, crawl into my bag and sleep like a baby. Wearing the thermals inside my bag that has a comfort rating of –3c keeps me warm and toasty even on very cold nights, especially as my sleeping pad is rated at 7.5r. Unfortunately, I broke with tradition and left my base layer, mid layer, and fleece on, probably because I was very sleepy and didn’t think about it. My schoolboy error meant that my top half (my core) heated up incredibly, while my legs had to deal with a huge temperature difference leaving them feeling as though they were incredibly cold, which of course they were not.

A lesson re-learned for sure; a layer against the skin, a good bag, and a good pad is more than enough to keep you warm even in low temperatures. Not only that, but you should also keep your layers even, so you don’t overheat one area of the body.

What that all meant, was that in the morning I felt really tired and basically crashed for about an hour after eating breakfast.

I felt a lot better once I awoke and made my apologies for delaying our morning. Embarrassing as it was, it was a lesson learned (again), and I vowed never to make it again. Trust your kit and keep your wits about you.

Anyway, we finally got packed up and worked out the best direction to head off that would take us back to the ridge we started on, and started walking. Getting back to the main path was no real issue, a bit uphill, a bit of long grass, and a couple of hundred metres and we there. And so it was for a while at least. But as I mentioned before, this was an area that was less travelled and it wasn’t too long before the path kind of disappeared. Not in an abrupt way, more like it just fizzled out. But we knew which direction to go so there was no issue, it’s just that a track or path can make the going so much easier than walking through long grass on uneven terrain, and is therefore always desirable if possible.

However, for the life of us we couldn’t quite make out where the path was and so we headed out thinking we would pick it up later, which of course we did, but not after realising it was there all the time, we just didn’t see it for what it was and spent time on a harder path than was necessary. All part of the fun I guess.

The rest of the walk back was uneventful in terms of any mistakes or lost paths etc. But was glorious due to the sun pouring down on us and the spectacular views of the area. In usual fashion we made good progress and decided to take a breather at the cairn at the peak of Fan Llia. Packs off, sat down on a rock seat, the views down to the lake and across the valley were well worth the effort to get there, and we spend a few relaxing minutes refuelling and resting our weary bodies.

The area at the top has a plethora of small rain pools that must be quite persistent, because a few of them had spawn and tadpoles in them, and we saw a lizard/newt type of creature scitter away in front of us before we had a chance to get a good look. All of which meant that there is a thriving ecosystem based on clean replenished water, untainted by any kind of pollution. A heartwarming thought for sure.

It’s moments like these that make it all worthwhile, being there in a spectacular location, present in the moment, with no other considerations to distract from the effect it has on the soul. Life affirming stuff for sure.

But as with all trips, it had to come to an end, and so we lifted our packs onto our tired old bodies and began the journey downhill, back to where we had parked, and after another few minutes of losing the path and then finding it again towards the bottom of the hill, we finally made it back to the vehicles.

This moment always carries with it mixed emotions. A touch of sadness that another great hike and camp has come to an end, relief that I can take off the pack and not have to lift it again and change my boots for some softer footwear. But happiness at having completed a good workout, seen some great things, and now get to travel home, back to our loved ones.

This was another great example of how your mood can change in a short period of time depending on conditions and circumstances, and of how lessons can be learned and relearned. Of how being in the present moment brings peace and calm, and reminds me of how important the simple thing in life are.

I hope I never take it for granted, or forget just how important these environments are, and I hope above all else that I continue to enjoy them for as many years to come as I can mange.

Until next time.

A note on the kit I took.

This time I took my 3FUL Taiji 2 tent with the replacement poles. It’s supplied with reasonable 8mm Ali poles, but with it being a decent size dome tent, 8mm poles can have a tendency to flex a bit too much in wind. So some a while ago I purchased some replacement 10mm poles that fit perfectly, and double guyed the lines. This simple modification has made this tent incredibly stable in wind, not Hilleberg Black stable, but not a million miles off.

My pad was the Lightour 7.5r pad which is great in the cold, and my trusty Snugpak Softie Elite Hawk 9 sleeping bag which has a comfort rating of -3C (snigger), the snigger is because this rating, as with all bag manufacturers, is a subjective thing.

I had my Soto Windmaster gas stove with me as I always do. This stove is simply the best I have ever used and can see no reason to use anything else now. This stove coupled with my small pots that have a heat ring on the base means that I can boil enough water for a brew in less time than it takes me to sort the tea bag and sugar.

The pack I’ve been using for a while now, and has become a firm favourite is one from a German manufacturer. It’s called the Phoenix 65 from Portal and comes in with a hefty cost of £65. You get what you pay for, usually, but this pack has been used and abused for the last two and a half years carrying an average of 18-19kg when setting out. It’s comfortable, pretty hard wearing and not heavy, despite the low cost. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

Bannau Brycheiniog

A great weekend in Brecon

The bank holiday weekend of 24^th of May was booked for a trip to Brecon (Bannau Brycheiniog), and specifically to quieter area in the west, mainly to avoid the bank holiday crowds, but also to re-visit a stunning spot that we’d been to before. The idea was to do more of a previous walk and then explore the paths on top of the escarpment that runs south north towards Llyn Y Fan Fawr and then west to Llyn Y Fan Fach.

It’s a round robin walk that starts at the southern end of the escarpment and climbs steadily to the top of the ridge, where the path continues close to the escarpments edge all the way to the far end and then turns sharply west before heading down to the first of the lakes. From there it contours round eastwards before turning south and heading for the second of the lakes and then continues south along the foot of the escarpment all the way back to the start.

It’s a very neat route that seems to have most of what you want from any kind of walk in the hills, decent climbs, great views, and plenty of clean fresh air, and I was joined again by my mate Mark, who’s always good company on these walks.

The plan was to start the route going anti clockwise walking at the base of the escarpment towards LLyn Y Fan Fawr where we’d spend the night pitched up next to what is an incredibly beautiful lake with great views. It’s about 5k from where we had parked and was easily achievable in the time we had set aside, given that we were due to set off at around 5pm. However, in what has recently become the norm for my walks, not much had quite gone as planned.

It took an extra two and a half hours for me to travel to my destination after several sat nav re-routes and some fairly heavy bank holiday traffic, and my walking compatriot didn’t manage to arrive until just after 7pm (you’ve gotta love bank holiday travelers). I know in the grand scheme of things that we were part of the problem given that we were traveling as well, but knowing that trite little fact didn’t help one little bit.

Well, after finally meeting up and discussing what we were going to do at such a late hour we decided that the best thing would be to start the route in the other direction and go clockwise. This meant that we could make a short ascent up the southern end of the escarpment to a slight plateau where we could pitch for the night. Although it wasn’t far from the start and it was only a short ascent, it was still quite steep, and after huffing and puffing hard for a while we hit the plateau in late dusk light and managed to pitch before complete darkness, which in anybody’s book has to be counted as a win.

It wasn’t long before the stoves were fired up and food was on the go, and once the hunger had been satisfied, I felt that a small mug of red was in order, so given that it’s almost the law that’s what I had, and my buddy had one of his beers. I don’t think it was long after that we had both hit the hay. It had been a long day and a late night and both of us were flagging.

We knew that the weather forecast for the weekend wasn’t good, and was in fact promising rain and wind of decent proportions for the duration. Never one’s to be perturbed by such things we were prepared for it. However, come the morning despite finding ourselves in the cloud base the rain was nothing like what we were expecting, not much more than occasional heavy drizzle, and the overnight wind was nothing to write home about either, although that was going to change.

Cloud falling over the edge of the escarpment

The morning light brought with it a view of the cloud as it moved across the land and then hit the edge of the escarpment where the wind worked its magic and created a wonderful swirling effect as the cloud cascaded over the edge. You don’t see that every day or in every location. But the day had to start, and after a good cuppa and some breakfast we broke camp, packed up, and headed off on the route along the top of the escarpment.

As we set off and lost the shelter of where we had pitched the wind began to make itself felt. It was a combination of a fairly strong wind and the exposed nature of where we were that made it quite bracing. It wasn’t particularly cold or wet, but given that the hillslope dropped to the west, which is where the wind was coming from, and the fact that we walking a ridge meant that we got the full effect of what mother nature had to offer on that particular day.

What this meant was that as we made our way along the ridge we were being constantly hit on our left hand side by the cloud laden wind that made our left side damp but left the right side dry, an interesting feeling for sure. However, unperturbed by the conditions we were making good time as we walked north along the path that ran very close to the edge on occasions.

It continued on this way for a while until we got to the trig point on Fan Brechyniog where we took the obligatory selfie and then carried on towards the end of the straight section where we had to turn left before sweeping back round clockwise and dropping down towards Llyn Y Fan Fach. However, before we did that there were one or two very quick breaks in the cloud where we were teased with what we would have seen on a clearer day. One of the reasons for doing this particular walk was to capture the unbroken views across Brecon that are available from the top of the escarpment. Unfortunately, the cloud put paid to that, but we did get a few glimpses where the cloud parted briefly at which point the phones came out toot sweet and we got as many pics as we could.

Anyway, after making our way down to the lake we decided to take a break for a while, make a brew and get something to eat while we gave our poor old bones a bit of a rest. The escarpment may look fairly level, but it’s not at all. There are a few hill sections to climb and some of them are fairly steep, and doing these while carrying a load on your back can be taxing to say the least, but despite that we had made exceptionally good time so the rest was well deserved.

After an amount of time (I’m honestly not sure exactly how long we were there) packs were hoisted, poles attached to hands, and off we went following the path that contoured around the base of the escarpment. This part of the path had some pretty interesting features along the way, features that I won’t bore you with here, but Mark had to put up with me getting a bit over excited about geomorphological anomalies and the such (he does that a lot).

We continued on our way guessing at how far it was to the area we were going to pitch for the night, me being wildly wrong on several occasions and Mark getting it mostly right. I’m like a broken clock, right at least twice a day, but no more than that. We finally arrived at Llyn Y Fan Fawr to be met by a very bracing wind as we rounded the corner that the escarpment had sheltered us from. Time to seek a spot for the night.

After the usual roaming around looking for the best location, we finally settled on what we thought was the best option and made camp. The wind continued, and the rain came sporadically meaning that the best option was to get fed, have a quick mug of wine and get an early night. To be fair I know I was fairly knackered, and I think Mark was too. My only concern that night was for the stability of my tent, not that wind is much an issue for it even in much stronger wind than we had that night, but it’s a trekking pole tent and as such is held up by the tension created by the fly being pegged out tightly at the base. With well seated pegs and the guys from the top being pulled tight this tent can take a battering, but we were pitched on thin soil with plenty of buried stones and my pegs were not as well seated as would normally like them to be. My concerns turned out to be unwarranted though, because despite the high wind and gusting that hit us all night the tent pegs remained secure, and so did I in my trusty Lanshan.

Morning came, breakfast was had along with a hot brew, and we packed up in the wind which is always fun.

From where we were it was about a 5k walk back to the cars, and once again we made good time, but as we made our way back the weather improved step by step, so we decided to take break and just enjoy what was becoming a beautiful day. We sat at a lovely spot next to a small waterfall overlooking the land as it dropped away in front of us and relished the small amount of sunlight breaking through the clouds as it warmed the air.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget that the reason we go on these mini adventures is to simply enjoy the sights and sounds, the views, and to relax in what is an amazing environment while being able to take a break from the lives we lead day to day. In short, to recharge the mind body and soul. Sometimes conditions cause you to work your way along a route as if on a route march, and this was one of those occasions. The wind and low cloud made the route something to do rather than something to enjoy. This is not to say that it wasn’t a good thing to do, far from it, I really like getting out in harsh conditions and pushing on, but not all the time.

Sat in the sun relaxing in such a lovely spot we were reminded of that fact. That we should find more opportunities to just pause, sit, and take in the view. There is so much to see when you take the time to look.

The next camp is going to be a ridiculously easy one with very little distance to cover, but it was purposely planned that way a while ago. However, after that one we are returning to Buttermere for some unfinished business, and that walk is going to be a solid walk over two days covering some fairly hard terrain and some solid hillwork. But, after the lesson learned at Lyn Y Fan Fawr I think we will be pausing more often and taking a good look at what is around us.

Reasons to reflect on the Nantlle Ridge

The Nantlle Ridge was the route planned for this walk. Four of us were going to ascend Y Garn in Eryri (Snowdonia) and walk the ridge to the far end, spend the night near the last peak, descend the far side in the morning and walk the valley back to the start point. A solid walk for sure of 25k in total, and a camp at summit, not too shabby.

However, “The best laid schemes ‘o mice and men gang aft agley”, but I’m getting slightly ahead of myself.

The weather forecast showed that we would have a low cloud base at 400m on Saturday (well below the peak), meaning that we would be walking in cloud on the ridge. Not too much of an issue as navigating in conditions like that is fairly straightforward if you can use a map and compass, or even a mapping app. Most of the time you can just follow the path that goes in the general direction you need go, as there’s nearly always a reasonable amount of visibility, at least enough to see the path 20m ahead.

One of us had to drop out early due to illness (completely understandable) nobody needs to be up a hill in a remote location if you’re not well enough for it, which left three us.

Excited for the trip Mark and I met up the night before the walk for a cheeky nights camp out next to the lake (llyn) at the foot of Y Garn. After a little bit of scoping the local area we found the perfect spot to pitch up and settle in for the night. Being in one of the quieter areas of the national park, after a certain hour there was literally nobody around and the only company we had was a pair of geese, three ducks, and a cuckoo that we never got to see. Apart from the above there was absolute peace and quiet, a very real palpable calm.

Saturday morning came with yet more of the same peace and quiet, and after the usual ablutions and breakfast we packed up and headed off to meet the third member of the walk. However, being in an area with virtually no mobile signal we had no idea that the fourth had also fallen ill and wasn’t coming. Again, it’s no good being in the hills with a case of flu, so it was the right call not to come. We did finally get the message after mooching around for a bit of signal for an hour, and the concern we had that he might just be late due to traffic or just being lost in a remote area was over, and we had confirmation all was well, if not healthy.

Now we knew that it was just us we headed out to pick up our gear and set off up Y Garn. It’s not a particularly high hill, but it is dramatic, and very steep. Pictures do not do it any kind of justice at all, and to say it was a hard slog to get to the top is not an exaggeration. I always knew this was the section that was going to need the most physical effort to complete, and it did not let me down. But we eventually made it, and climbing up into the cloud base and losing sight of the views below the land took on an ethereal feel, especially as towards the top the land became strewn with rock and boulders giving a very different look to what we had just walked over.

After a short stop and a refuel at the top we headed off along the ridge. And this is where it gets interesting. The next section of the walk was an arete, or col, I can never really remember the difference, and in real terms it’s only a technicality because ultimately, it’s a narrow ridge between two peaks.

It takes a certain amount of mettle to take on any kind of arete at the best of times, usually because any path will naturally be fairly close to the edge, but in this case the edge was mostly an abyss, a steep drop into nothing, and in the cloud it becomes that much more dangerous. Despite this we made our way along the arete picking our way across the rocks and navigating a few scrambles along the narrow ridge, and we made fairly good progress considering the conditions.

However, it was at one of these scrambles that we hit a point at which we could not justifiably go any further. It was a moment of disappointment for sure, but most definitely the right decision. The scramble at this point was either over the top which meant climbing up high sections of rock face with a definite drop either side, or a very narrow ledge slightly lower down that needed you to cling tightly to the rock face. Either way was going to need a lot of effort and concentration, but in low visibility and what was becoming increasingly slippery rock surface because of the wet from the cloud, plus the heavy packs we were carrying, meant that on this occasion it was simply just too dangerous to continue any further.

Despite the disappointment of having to turn back, as I said before, it was absolutely the right decision, and even if we had successfully continued onwards, it would have been more luck than judgement that would have kept us from potential tragedy.

So, with this in mind we literally headed back the way we came until we reached the peak of Y Garn, where we took shelter in a cairn and rested for a short time while we refueled. After a suitable period of time spent eating and chatting, we headed downhill, very much with the assistance of gravity helping to speed our descent all the way down, which meant going down was a lot quicker than going up. And if not for the hiking poles we used, I suspect it would have been even more rapid.

As we exited the cloud base the view opened up before our eyes revealing a clear vista across the valley and the llyn that was going to be our home again for the second night. We had made it down safely. A short walk, and about an hour later we had pitched up and got the stove on the go ready for a brew, some food, and a well deserved rest. It really was a lovely spot to pitch and simply take the time to soak it all up, and just be in the moment.

After a long day and a huge amount of effort climbing and then descending one of the steepest hills in the area it was nice to hang out at the camp, chat about anything and everything with Mark, sip away on a mug of red, and simply relax before hitting the sack for a much needed good night’s sleep.

The following morning was the usual process of ablutions, tea, breakfast, and packing up before heading off to the vehicles and the long drive home. But not before once again taking in the natural beauty of where we were and appreciating it fully for what it is.

One thing that the the Stoics encourages us to do is to practice gratitude, and this weekend made me reflect on that practice more than most. So, here’s the list of things that I’m particularly grateful for.

The many opportunities to go away camping given to me by my long suffering wife. The beauty of the places I get to see and explore. The strength to walk in these places. The opportunity to face the challenges in front of me. To rest and sleep in some truly awesome places. To share these amazing experiences in the company of a good friend, and any others that wish to experience the same. I’m grateful for the thrill I get from being ‘out there’ somewhere remote and away from the rest of the world. And I’m grateful for the wisdom to know when not to put others in a difficult or dangerous situation just to fulfil a desire to complete a planned route.

I’m also incredibly grateful for my two best friends, my trusty hiking poles, that not only help to keep me walking, but also keep my tent up.

This weekend certainly didn’t go exactly according to plan, but make no mistake, it was still a great weekend full of adventure, exercise and effort, a few challenges, great company and a lot of laughs. It was a shame that two of us failed to make it, they would have had a great time as well, but the two that remained had a good time and will return to finish the job at the earliest possible convenience.

The mountain isn’t going anywhere.

Back to Derbyshire

Last weekend was one of my planned walks that I open up to all members of the coaching group that I belong to, in the hopes that some of them might find the benefits of getting out into the fresh air in good company useful.

Well, on this occasion I had only one taker, and that was my old stalwart walking buddy Mark. And I think he would wholeheartedly agree that they all missed a cracker of a weekend. In fact it was one of the best camping trips I’ve had in a long time, and that’s saying quite a lot considering some of the walks we’ve been on this, and last year.

So which mountain did we climb up I hear you ask? None is the answer.
Well then, was it a long walk, covering a lot of interesting and varied terrain? No.
But you must have got plenty of exercise carrying those heavy packs over distance? Not unless you call a twenty minute walk to the camp site a lot of exercise (but the packs were quite heavy though).

In fact it was quite literally one of the laziest and relaxing camps ever, but still one of the best, and here’s why.

The plan was always to have a fairly chilled weekend, giving the kit a bit of a shakedown before the seasons proper hard work begins, and to just unwind, relax, and have a bit of a reset. And why not?
So Friday evening comes and we meet up at the agreed spot in a car park (sounds dodgy, but perfectly normal for campers) where we sorted our kit and then headed out for the first of two nights wild camping.

It was a grinding and arduous trek full of effort striding up the lane carrying our heavy loads for about ten minutes before turning right and heading into the moor for another difficult ten minutes of hard effort traversing the wild moorland of Derbyshire.
After such a long hike we were both ready for a well earned rest, but no rest came, we had to set up camp first!!
Ten minutes later we had the tents up, bedding all laid out, and packs emptied, the wine was poured and we stood there looking at the magnificent location that was our campsite for the night, and feeling a little smug if I’m honest.

Derbyshire was the location of choice for this weekend, easy to get to for both of us, not too far, and right next to the car park, you simply couldn’t ask for easier.
The chosen campsite was a little spot within an area of ancient quarrying that has now re-wilded. It’s a labyrinth of old works with passages and open excavations on different levels making it the perfect spot to setup, knowing that you couldn’t be seen or heard unless someone was very close by.
Which is why it was the perfect opportunity to christen a little folding fire pit/stove thingy that I’ve had for some time and never used. I don’t normally condone an open fire while wild camping for obvious reasons, but as there was already an existing firepit complete with stone surround, and I had this fire thingy that kept everything contained I thought why not?

We had the dramatic architecture of the old quarrying, trees all around us, a fire, and a nearly full moon with a completely clear sky. You simply couldn’t have got better if you had ordered and paid for it.
This weekend there was no agenda, no timescale, so no need to go to bed early, which probably explains why we sat on our camping seats next to the fire chatting away, me with my red wine and Mark with his 0% beers, until about 1am. Given that we were so tucked away there was no need to get up early to get under way, so it was decided to have a steady start to the day….no rush.

And no rush it was.
A very easy and relaxed start the next morning meant that we didn’t get packed up until about….I’m not sure really, but we made it back to the cars to drop off our kit at about 11 – 11.30 ish I think.
It was that kind of weekend, and we maintained that red hot, full tilt, maximum pace for the rest of the day.
With our kit safely stored away in the cars we headed off downhill on a path through a wooded area that took us past a pub (more on that later) and the start of a pleasant walk to Robin Hoods Stride and Hermits Cave. It’s an interesting rock formation that stands proud of the surrounding landscape and is a magnet for those that like to do something called ‘bouldering’.
Personally I think it’s just an excuse to carry a mattress around on your back, but each to their own I guess.

Anyway, after the thirty or so minute slog it took to get to our destination we intrepid explorers climbed the summit of Robin Hoods Stride and took our rightful places overseeing the hoi palloy below us.
After a few minutes of admiring the views and taking the requisite number of selfies we decided almost as one mind to make our way down and head towards what was a most inviting area of shade underneath the boughs of some very lovely trees.
The sun was shining, it was warm, and the grass was oh so comfortable. There was only one thing to do….nap. Yes, I said it, nap.
I stayed awake only just long enough to take a picture of the branches above from my now horizontal position and a selfie of me lying down, and that was all she wrote. Out like a light!

After what was a glorious hour napping in warm sunshine beneath the boughs of several trees, I awoke to the sounds of a jeolous Mark berrating me for the fact the he wasn’t able to sleep as well as I was. Not rancourous in any way whatsoever.
A Cheery Mark and myself then made our way back along the gruelling route to our destination, the aforementioned pub that we had passed earlier.

It was here that we decided to stop for a much needed rest, a pint or two, and a hot meal to stave off dehydration and what had become a close call with starvation. Beef shin pie with mash, and a fish and chips with mushy peas saved us from a close call with nutritional disaster, so we decided to rest up for a while to regather our energy before the long ten minute haul uphill back to where the vehicles were parked to collect our gear for the second of our two night trial of endurance.

Once again, with our heavy packs lifted we started out on our trecherous journey of twenty minutes hard marching across tough ground to reach the same spot we had camped in the previous night. The arduous task of setting up camp then began, and after what seemed like an eternity of ten minutes we were set up and unpacking the wine and beer, and not befor time either, I’m not entirely sure that either of us coukd have taken any more punishment. The effects of such a hard day were beggining to make themselves known, so we decided to make things a litle easier for ourselves (because we obviously desrved a break) and make the camp fire and pour the wine.

We didn’t have the same moon or clear sky that we had the previous night, but it was still nice to sit around the fire with a drink and just chat away with biscuits and Jaffa cakes until late in the evening, reviewing all of the hard effort that had gone into the day just gone. All in all not a bad effort.

Those of you who know, understand that I love getting out into the hills and fells etc to experience not only the the views and fresh air, but also the peace and soothing effect on the mind that being out in the hills can bring. The ability to leave behind all that plays on the mind, all the obligations we have, all of the baggage we carry; to leave behind everything we don’t need or want can be a rewarding and cathartic experience, just allowing yourself to be in that moment and in that place.

For me it’s my pace of zen, whether it’s cold wet and windy, or warm and sunny with the slightests of breezes, I love it all.
But it turns out that you can achieve the same results by simply taking it easy on yourself. The greatest of stoics amongst us can achieve this same state of peace wherever they are because they understand that true peace and balance comes from understanding the difference between internal and external influences, and how to manage them.

However, for the rest of us that haven’t yet reached this particular state of nirvana, removing ourselves from the day to day can help us make the mindset shift required to accept the mental reset that we seek from time to time. Does it have to be while pushing yourself physically, ascending some hill somewhere with a heavy pack on your back, and being miles and miles away from the nearest evidence of civilisation? No it doesn’t.

You can do the same almost anywhere, the key is taking the time to move yourself to a different location (helping with the mindset shift) and then allowing yourself to be in the moment and just take it easy.

We all get so caught up in our obligations, lists of things to do, and everything else we set for ourselves that we can easily forget how to let go of them, even for just a short amount of time, and give ourselves permission to take it easy and have a break from the daily pressures of life.
Is life for living? Or is life for doing? Or perhaps a little of both?

The answer to that question is a personal one, and will depend upon your own beliefs and circumstances. One thing is for sure though, we all need a break from time to time, and going for a bit of a camp somewhere and not worrying about things too much, or putting yourself under too much pressure to perform is a very good way of doing that.

So even though my place of zen will always be up in the hills, not everybody has to do the same to get the same benefits. Having a bit of a camp somewhere out of the way, going for a bit of a stroll in the open countryside, getting some fresh air, and spending time in the company of good people is a good thing to do.

It’s a very good thing indeed.

Stay tuned folks!!! Next time I’ll be reporting about a walk along the Nantlle Ridge in Snowdonia, it’s going to be a very different walk indeed.

Take Heed!

This is a post I really didn’t want to write because I’m probably going to come off sounding a little preachy, I promise I’m not trying to be, but given today’s subject I don’t think it could go any other way, so strap in I’m going for it.

So I’ll start at the beginning, and the beginning was in December last year when I was reading through a few posts on FaceF**k. I occasionally trawl through a few camping groups that I registered with a while back, just to keep in touch with the hot topics of the day, that kind of thing.

Anyway, I happened to stumble upon one which was asking for a recommendation, nothing unusual there, there are dozens of such posts each day asking for advice on this that and the other. However, this one was from somebody who admitted to being a complete newbie asking for a recommendation for a tent that was storm worthy enough to stand against high winds on the peaks? WTF? I mean WTF?

This guy wanted to go on his first wildcamping experience into the hills and peaks in the depths of winter looking for bad weather in a tent he didn’t know how to choose for himself, and probably with just as much of an idea about the other kit he’d need to survive the night.

And this got me thinking. Thinking about what is actually required to take part in this great activity that we call wildcamping.
I’m a great believer in the fact that as many people as possible should get off their sofas and into the great outdoors and experience what this country has to offer in terms of wide open spaces and the benefits to health and mental wellbeing that come from it.
BUT, and this is a big old fat BUT, you have to do it safely, and that means two things, having the right kit, and having the right knowledge.

Nobody is saying that you have to be Lofty Wiseman (showing my age there) or Bear Grylls (for the younger readers) in order to enjoy hiking and camping out. You don’t need to be able to navigate in the pitch black of night using nothing more than a compass and pace counting (although it can help), but you should at least be able to use a map adequately enough to know where you are and where you’re going, and actually take a map. And you don’t need specialist equipment to enjoy a few nights out on the hills, but you do need the appropriate kit, even if it’s not the expensive kind.
But more importantly you need to know how to use it, and how to dress accordingly.

Every year Mountain Rescue Teams throughout Britain are called out hundreds of times to rescue people that have either had an unfortunate accident that could not have been avoided, or more often than not to help misguided individuls and groups that have ventured out completely unprepared for what they are about to face.
The truth is, that despite the incredible beauty of the hills and mountains they are relentlessly dangerous places to be. From loose rocks and steep narrow paths, to boggy areas that can suck you in, and water hazards that can potentially sweep you away. And that’s not even to mention the drops and edges that are so easy to fall off if you’re not very careful. These are just a few of the many dangers that await any walker, no matter how experienced you are. Even experienced campers can succumb to the creeping death that is hypothermia.

And then there is the greatest danger of all…..ingnorance!
Failing to check the weather before heading out is one of the biggest and most common mistakes, that and underestimating the prevailing conditions, and then failing to prepare for them by not taking the appropriate clothing to cope with the changeable nature of mountain weather.

Lack of food and drink comes high on the list as well, the number of people who manage to return from a hike cold and hungry, or hot and dehydrated because they have failed to adequately consider the requirements of exerting so much energy while hiking with a load, being far too high for reason.

Not adequately understanding the route taken and any hazards along the way, not knowing if there are any bail out points along the route if things don’t go your way, or having a plan in case you get caught in a whitout are all things that can lead to a disastrous outcome if you’re unlucky.

And then there is the guy that started all of this rant, you know, the one that wants to find a tent that will keep him safe and sound in stormy weather at the top of a large hill/mountain during his first wildcamp. He’s the one that overestimates his own abilities and that of his kit, thinking that having the kit is what will keep him alive. All the gear and no idea!!

Kit does not replace wit.

As I said before, you don’t have to be a survival expert to successfully enjoy camping out somewhere remote, but a bit of knowledge goes a long way. Let me give you an example.
A hilleberg tent designed specifically for robust conditions if pitched poorly, or in just the wrong location, can fail and let you down just like any other tent can. However, a cheap £65 tent can easily be adapted to withstand much harsher conditions than it was designed for if you know how to do it, and if you give consideration to where you pitch up.

I’ve seen expensive storm tents collapse in only relatively bad weather because of piss poor pitching, and dirt cheap tents stand up unscathed in 50mph gusts because it was pitched with double guys and additional peg points using tarp clips to attach to the fly.
A little knowledge can go a long way towards keeping you safe.

Again, YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE A SURVIVAL EXPERT!!
But you do need to at least have some knowledge of your limitations, abilities, conditions and kit. In short you need common sense. And this applies equally whether you’re an old hand of forty years, or just starting out on your adventures.

Go out, go safe, and enjoy.

Rant over.