A bit down

Man-made fibres are all well and good in this damp climate of ours, but if you want to stay really warm, then down (filled) is the way to go.

The PHD Minimus Vest came to the 'gorms with me back in May. I took it as backup insulation but I ended up sleeping in it and was warm all night.


When I went back a week later with The Boy, I left it behind (I thought it was overkill, the weather forecast being so good) and was the wrong side of comfortable in my Rab Quantum bag. I learned a lesson that night.

It also ties in with the whole lightweight ethos, and I'm paraphrasing here; stuff you carry should do more than one thing. Something like that anyway. And within reason.

Anyhoo, it's so light and packs up so small that it'd be daft not to carry it. So, from now on, I'm gonnae.

Warm Front

All this talk of snow, and our first frost, has had me rummaging in the wardrobe. Just the briefest of looks revealed a range of options for staying warm when the temperature drops and Jack Frost starts nipping at your lugs.

One of the first things I reach for at this time of year is a thin fleece. I practically live in Berghaus Yukons and one of them sometimes goes in the bag. A bit more technical, the Haglofs Triton Hood is a superb bit of kit and a firm favourite. I'd have 10 of these if I could but they've been dis-continued and you'll find hens teeth before you track one down.

One of the first synthetics I bought was the Berghaus Infinity Light and I've been using it for years. For something so light, it's surprisingly warm. The boxy cut means that it fits over over layers easily and the Pertex outer sheds snow and light rain like a bastard. There's no hood but I can live with that; I carry a Buff year-round.

Next up is the Montane Solo. Again discontinued (why, oh why???) and picked up in a clearance sale. Stupidly warm for the weight (think Poartec 300) and with just enough features to make it practically perfect. The Pertex roll-away hood is the cherry on the cake.

I've got 2 Haglofs Barrier Hoods. I used one all through last winter as an everyday outer layer and stayed warm, dry & comfy regardless of the weather. I can't fault it. At first glance, it looks a bit on the bulky side but it scrunches down into one of the pockets, nae bother. Lovely.

Being a Paramo fanboy, I sat up and took notice when they announced they were bringing out a couple of insulation pieces. Initial reports of weight and bulkiness issues meant that I hedged my bets and went for the Paramo Torres vest. I'm glad I did because it works very, very well indeed. Pack size is reasonable and the weight isn't that contentious. It doesn't give a monkey's how crap the weather is either. I like it a lot.

When the Montane Prism 2.0 came out, I nearly took Mr Fast&Light's hand off. Even the colour, a ferocious Alpine Red, couldnae stop me. I cannot wait to be sitting on a snowy summit, brew in hand, wrapped up in this puppy. It begs to be taken out on wintery adventures. And it shall my friends. Oh yes, it shall.

The Unbearable Kindness of Strangers

I picked up a Markill Peak Ignition Ti stove today from the Post Office. It belongs to Matt Swaine, Editor of Trail. It's his personal stove. I have a handwritten note to prove it. He's given it to me to keep. He's also sending me some other stuff. He didn't have to but he did.

Mad steam-punk ray-gun?

I think that's awfy kind. All he's asked in return is that I maybe send in a photie of it getting used.

I can do that.

I'm taking that piezo ignition off first tho'.

Silver Lining

One of the things I've meaning to do since me & The Boy's trip to the 'gorms was to put together a One Pot Kitchen for him. The stove he used was a wee bit too big to fit in the Alpkit MyTi Mug along with a gas canister, Buff and Spork.

Trail failed to deliver on their promise of a free Markill Hot Shot way back in April when I subscribed (more on that later) and I've been keeping a weather-eye open ever since. I was quite chuffed with myself when I bid on, and won, a Hot Shot that had been listed on Ebay. But that has come to nought, the seller coughing up nothing but excuses and lining herself up for my very first helping of negative feedback.

Last weekend, I found myself in Sterling Village, Tillicoutry (nr Stirling), accompanying The Future Mrs D on a mission of great importance. Luckily for me, there's a Mountain Warehouse there, formerly a Karrimor clearance outlet but now full of generic own-brand "stuff". Not the kind of place I'm known to frequent but I can usually kill 5 or 10 minutes mooching about inside. While wandering the aisles, a box caught my eye; a wee Coleman F1 stove. The price sticker looked wrong, way too cheap for what it was. I checked with the lassie on the till and it was indeed correct. "I'll take it", says I.

A result then. The F1 is lighter than the Markill by a long way. It's simple, cheap and folk seem to like it. I'm happy now :o)

Bulk Buyer

If something's worth buying, it's worth buying a lot of it. That's my philosophy.

At my current rate of consumption, this little lot should last me 'til at least 2010.

Easily Led

It's true, I am. I read things and ideas take root in my head. Money gets spent and small packages arrive. Usually I frown at whatever it is I've bought and think "Why did I get this, again?"

The latest offering is a case in point. I can only imagine that it seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, the guylines on my Laserlite are a bit pish and the linelocks are indeed rubbish but really, I don't own a set of scales and I can't tie a bowline.

Aw hell. Now I'm thinking I really need a book on knots.

Somebody shoot me. Please.

Badge of Honour

It just dawned on me that I've been openly displaying my lightweight credentials, at work at least, for the last 3 years. Folk have asked me what it means and I've tried my best to explain. Very few people get it.

The sticker came from the label of my Golite Coal Parka. Why I then stuck it on my work laptop is anybody's guess. Either way, my memory has been jogged and I'm going back over the many adventures me & the Coal and have had. Winter's coming and I'm enthused.

Mental Bubblegum

It's been a hectic couple of weeks, what with changes at work, one bairn getting married and another going off to Uni', we've been driven to distraction. A walk would be good to clear the mind but, when time is short and the hour late, firing up an Xbox is the next best thing. (I'm talking as a non-drinker here btw).

A couple of the boys at work had been raving about Battlefield: Bad Company and so, when it finally hit the shelves, I picked up a copy.

They were right; it's a hoot. The multiplayer mode is a pure joy, if you like that kind of thing. We spent a few hours running around as a wee squad and had a brilliant time. The first of many missions together, I'm sure. Let's hear it for team bonding.

Me (centre) and the boys, playing to the camera

The King and I

10 years ago this month, I parked my car at the bottom of Dollar Glen and set off up into The Ochils. Fresh from shopping in Tiso's the day before, I was all shiny leather boots, baggy TNF pants and a "Wild Rover" ruckie, packed with fleeces, waterproofs, a big flask and assorted paraphenalia that the magazines told me were "Essentials that must be carried at all times" or somesuch. The day was hot and humid. So muggy, in fact, that even the midgies stayed home lest their hair go all curly and daft-looking. Needless to say, I didn't get far. My target of Kingseat may as well have been on the dark side of the moon. I flopped down, completely burst, on some wee bump.

The highest point of my first attempt

I could've thought "F**k this for a laugh" and gone home but, as the Lucozade Sport and flapjack worked their magic, I realised that I was actually having fun. Looking down on Dollar from way up on high, I actually remembered why I loved being in the hills. I dawndered back down to the car and that was it; I was hooked again.

I was out on the hills nearly every weekend after that and, 6 months later, returned to Kingseat. This time, I only stopped on the way up to admire the views. In just over an hour, blazing past all and sundry (including the man who did the "Walk of the week" for The Scotsman) I reached the shelter cairn and sat there for ages. The day was bright and clear, the temperature barely above freezing. Even the banter was good that day.

I left the top via a steep, and slightly reckless, direct descent down to The Burn of Sorrow. The glen was quiet, everything rimed with frost and not another soul in sight. A great walk out by any standard.

Back to the present and Wednesday saw me with a free day and a need to stretch my legs. Wanting to stay local, I headed along the A91 and swung a right at Dollar. 15 minutes later, I was walking up the road to Castle Campbell and, not long after that, I was heading up Kingseat.

Looking back towards Castle Campbell

It's no' a terribly big hill but it's broad as well as high which means there's a bit of walking across as well as up. It's also lumpy so there's 4 or 5 false summits to mess with the mind.

The saddle between Tarmangie and Whitewisp. Wind turbines just visible.

It's well worth the effort tho', the shelter cairn giving extensive views in every direction. It's a great place to linger.

Refuelling station.

I can see the hoose fae here. Well, nearly.

The lumpy, bumpy way up and down.

There was a wee bit of banter with a couple of auld boys, the only folk I saw, and then, 45 minutes later, I levered myself up and away. I actually found myself jogging back to the car, such was the spring in my step. Great stuff.

Somebody's been nibbling. Wisnae me. Honest.

The author.

Note: This is my 100th post and it's hill-related. Things must be improving :o)

After the rain

Some mornings, it's a pleasure to wake up and this is one of those mornings. The weather's been rubbish for weeks but it doesn't matter, eventually the sun will come back out.

If I lean back in my chair, I can see East Lomond. I've lost count of how many times I've been up there but it's a lot. It's nice to be able to stand out the back with a coffee in hand and look across to it.


Looking left I can see the top of West Lomond, just peering over the top of Bishop Hill.

The sun's shining and there's a fresh breeze coming in from the West. These things, among others, make me happy. It's good for the soul.

When the man comes around

I've had Johnny Cash in my head all week but it's all work-related, so nobody panic, OK?

Play it loud.

Saving the Planet

I'm a great believer in recycling. Anybody who's bought stuff from me via ebay will get a well-packaged bundle of happiness but it won't be the first time the wrapping has gone thru' the postal service.

So, when The Future Mrs D says "You've got a parcel", I immediately think "Woohoo!!". There's a moment of confusion when she chucks it over. It feels a bit crinkly, almost as if it's been wrapped in a shopping bag. "WTF?". It is wrapped in a shopping bag.

Crafty marketing or something else?

Now, if this had been bought from some nice person via Ebay, I could understand it but it wasn't. It came from a well known retailer.

On the one hand, it's a great bit of recycling. On the other, I paid nearly £4 for P&P. It did arrive quickly, right enough. Within 2 working days in fact.

I'm really no' sure how I feel about this. Actually, I do but I won't say anything here until I've spoken to their customer services folk.

I'm away to open it. I'm sure the contents will put a smile back upon my coupon.

I Want To Believe

Yes, I do. In fact, I think I do believe. What I know, is that The X Files is/was one of the finest Sci-Fi series ever shown on TV.

I was a Fanboy. I've seen every episode at least twice, and a few of them a lot more than that. I had Seasons 1-9 recorded on VHS, each tape labelled, in order and with the write-protect tab broken off. Then Ebay arrived and the DVD box sets were winging their way to my door.

Image then, the crushing disappointment that is the current film, The X Files: I Want To Believe. I'd seen the trailer and it looked good. I was looking forward to seeing it on the big screen and in surround-sound. As I sat there, bucket of popcorn and industrial-sized fizzy drink to hand, I started to feel strangely sad; sad for myself but also for everyone that had ever watched, worked on and loved The X Files. It's awful. Truly, truly dire. I could've cried. Thank F**k for Orange Wednesday.


The Future Mrs D didn't like it either. Crushed, so I was.

So yesterday, we sat down to watch the first fillum, The X Files: Fight The Future, something which TFMD didn't even know existed. She enjoyed it . A lot. Declaring it "Really, really gid(sic)". It was nice to see it again. It made me feel much better. That's a proper film, that is.

Any Excuse

The Anjungilak Air Pillow; I must be one of the last people in the world to get one of these but it's one of those things that I never got around to buying for myself.

A decent night's kip? Here's hoping.

Praise be for birthdays then. Now I just need to get out and use it. Next weekend looks promising*. Something a wee bit higher up to avoid the midgies. Or not, if it's breezy lower down. A hill will be climbed tho'. Yes, indeed.

I suspect this coming week at work will be a bit of a pig and I'll have earned a break by Friday.

Update 08/08/08: Rain stops play. Forecast is uniformly rubbish from one side of the country to t'other.

*All plans are subject to change at short, or no, notice.

Friendlies

Disclaimer: The following post contains no references to gear, hills or indeed anything that could be remotely construed as "outdoorsy". (Although the graphical representation of trees, water and mountains is rather nice) If you play, you'll understand.

It's easy, in these times of scammers, spammers, phishers and other sundry low-lives, to think of the internet as nought other than a polluted conduit bringing all manner of sh*te into our lives. But sometimes, just sometimes, it can be a force for good and happiness.

The journey into the Haloverse can be perilous but also rewarding. Occasionally, the mix of folk is just right and you remember that the good people far outweigh the bad.

Witness then, the titanic struggle of Capture The Flag in Big Team Social. 16 strangers working together in 2 teams, in a spontaneous act of bonding.

No words spoken. Everyone knew the task in hand and each played their part. The defenders held their flag for 15 long minutes, the attackers relentless in their determination to pry it from their grasp.

And pry it, we did.

Death from above? Not this time.

With "friendlies" overhead, I managed to get two-thirds of the way back to base before a determined counter-attack took me down.

Run Forrest, run!

The rest of my team were already on the way and took the flag regardless. Nobody said a word.

With 2 minutes left, and the other team pressing hard, I fought my way into their base and took their flag again. One of my team mates was outside, transport at the ready.

Teamwork.

We made it back with 3 seconds on the clock.Again, no words.

Game over and back in the post-game lobby, the banter was all "Well played" and "Good game." Friends were made, new loyalties forged and everybody had a ball. And that's what it's all about.

The 45

Halfway to my Four Score Years And Ten. I've done so much and yet there's still much to do.

Best crack on then.

Who goes there?

There's nothing quite like waking up early on a Saturday morning to the sound of two very large, and very hairy, dogs barking their heads off. All bad thoughts were banished in an instant however when it turned out to be our pal, the Postie.

He handed over a brown paper-wrapped cube in exchange for an autograph. Some deft finger nail action revealed our latest aquisition; a sleek, black, and awfy fancy, camera. One of those posh ones with the wee telly on the back.

An end to slightly rubbish photies like this?

There will be much RTFM'ing, I'm sure. The wee Fuji is looking nervous and slightly sheepish. And so it should. My memory is long and its' previous belligerence has been carefully noted.

B*****d!

Ding, Dong.....

It's that time of year again when thoughts turn to Scotland's second most famous creature, the Midgie. A time when fannying about at the back of the car, sorting and adjusting various bits of stuff, isn't an option. Wishing to hell that you hadn't worn shorts and doing that strange wee dance* that's seen in every car park and campsite across Scotland from May 'til October.

I've been using Skin So Soft** for years now and, for me at least, it works. For complete preservation of sanity however, long sleeves, trousers and a head-net are a must.

Who cares if you smell like a girl?

Reading that back, I've realised just how soft I've become after all these years in the Lowlands. As a youngster, growing up on Speyside, Midgies were an accepted part of life. They're just there, as much a part of the landscape as trees and hills. I don't remember ever having to run home, screaming like a girl.

It's reckoned they cost the Scottish tourist industry millions in lost revenue and that may be true but they also keep the property developers at bay. Scotland without the Midgie would be a very different place indeed.

And if I kill a few hundred whenever I'm out, then that's just acceptable losses.

UPDATE - 19/07/08

The briefest of searches turned up a wee 50ml skooshy bottle in Boots' travel section. Some smaller ones in amongst the hair products but they were dearer and full of stuff. Worth bearing in mind though.

*Running in circles, waving both hands in the air while screaming unintelligibly.

**The search is on for a smaller, skooshy-topped receptacle.

Turning Japanese

WARNING! This post contains references to "GEAR". Proper Walkers should look away.

Nipped out at lunchtime to picked up a parcel from the PO, a Snow Peak Trek 900 Ti, bought via Ebay for not a lot of my hard-earned.


It makes me happy on 2 levels;
1. It's new and shiny and I like new and shiny.
2. It means I can get rid of the Alpkit MyTi Mug with its' Gosh-Darned Awful rattley lid.

It drove me demented with its' constant clink-clink-clink. A veritable titanium monkey on my back.

Anyways, I needed something a bit bigger for The Boy and his copious appetite for hot beverages.

All we need now is for it to stop raining long enough for us to get out there and put some "dings" in it.

OK. You can look now.

A Thousand Words

The Boy destroyed my PC. I know how he did it; switching it off at the wall rather than shutting it down in the way Bill Gates intended. If it had been been one of my Linux or XP boxes, it might have survived. So, I take it into work and try and bring it back from the dead in my lunch hour but the hard drives have had enough. They kick into life maybe one time in 10. I managed to drag some stuff off and onto a USB drive before they expired forever. Among the salvage was a set of photies that brought a wee smile to my stir-crazy coupon. It doesn't take a lot of effort to cast my mind back to the day they were taken; I can remember what I was wearing, what the weather was like and even what I had for lunch.

Ben Ledi, Jan 2004

Wandering up the Stank Glen

Above the Pass of the Dead

Ice and snow sculpture

Snowy magnificence

They're not great photies by any means. They were hurried affairs on account of it being so fecking cold but they're priceless nonetheless. This was to be Meg and I's last "big" hill day. If I'd known that our time together was to be only two more short years, I would've taken more pictures. I would've lingered a bit longer on top and packed a few more treats to while away our usual dawdling at the summit.

Leave only footprints

Meg, sheltering behind the summit cairn

Ben Ledi summit cross (a sock-winning shot)

Looking back for the last time

Sad to think that we'll never have that day again but I feel immensely priviliged to have had a day as fine as that at all.