The last weekend in January 2012 saw us pitching up at Bowley Scout camp near Great Harwood. We very kindly had permission to camp and use the facilities of the site by John Rose and Glen Fendall who we have a great relationship with through the Scouting movement.

We drove onto site and started to pitch camp in the rain, which turned to sleet then snow. Before long camp was in full routine, everyone had there own tent with personal layout and kit, the main group tent was erected with the woodburning stove pumping out heat. The night cleared and started to freeze as we hunkered down in the big tent. As usual, the crack was good.

Frozen tents before Sun up

A chilly start to Saturday morning, i love this time of day along with dusk also, especially on a frosty day. I tend to lie there and give myself a plan of attack, out of the sleeping bag, wool layers on, pants on, down jacket on, bivvy boots on, out of the tent at a bit of a dash, then it's pee time and brew.

Dawn over Pendle

Watching Sun up with brew and breakfast

I had booked a training room in the main building for the days activities which was warm and furnished with tea and coffee. A few days previous to the weekend i had plotted a route and placed this on a routecard concentrating on Naismith's Rule.

I issued all the guy's the relevant grid references and they started to plot the same route, with the onus of the excercise to see the differences between each others routes. After a few ours of head scratching and throwing lots of numbers and measurements about, the results were in. I am pleased to say that we were all in the same ball park. A quick check pace over 100 meters and it was time for heading back to camp, cooking dinner and sorting gear for the next day.

The route we had planned the day before was now going to be put into practice on the ground. We broke camp early and headed for White Coppice and Anglezarke Moor. Some discussion was had with regards to the start point, but eventually we all agreed.

Accurate navigation is a great skill to have and is a pleasure to learn as you are having a walk. All the guy's in the party can navigate to a point within 10 square meters in any visibility day or night, know how to read the contours of the map and apply this to the ground, use handrails, backstops, tick features and attack points, take accurate measurements and use time to get to a point. All this with a map and compass, the GPS is used as a back up.

Navigate well here, you can navigate anywhere

The day was going well and a look out for a lunch stop was in progress. A group of Spruce trees looked promising, so we headed for it. Yours truly went up to his waist nearly in a stream, and filled my boots with freezing cold water. Never mind, the joys of walking over moorland.

After a quick lunch we headed off again.

Use of a siting compass is the only way to navigate accurately

As we approached our final destination all of the party thought it was a great weekend honing an important skill. These navigation weekends are going to be a regular thing in the future. 

I think i need to move to Wasdale permanent i spend so much time there. If it wasn't a million miles away from everywhere else, i probably would.

Anyhow, we had planned this weekend for some time and all the boys were looking forward to it. We put mid November in as last year there was lots of snow, wanting some time on crampons and possible snow cave. The weather was extremely mild, with a 12 hour rain storm over the Thursday night when we arrived. No snow, even walking around camp in a T-shirt most of the time.

Friday morning came and off we started  to walk up Pillar. The ground was wet and slippy after the rain, so some caution was needed as we took the path up Mosedale Beck, skirting along the foot of Kirk Fell and onto Black Sail Pass.

 Mosedale

The cloud level was around 500m, so a keen eye on navigation was the key to a successful wander.

Group photo at Looking Stead

A thumbs up from Tomo, a breeze after AconcaguaThe approach to the trig Point on Pillar finds many small false peaks, the way is marked with small cairns and a well worn path. We were really in thick cloud now, so thick you could smell it.

The approach to the top of Pillar

Lunch on topAfter a very delicious boil in the bag soup from Look What We Found and a cup of tea, off we set on the descent down to Wind Gap, past the Elliptical Crag and back down to Mosedale. The track was a boulder and scree strewn affair, mixed with the rain the night before everyone found themselves on there backsides more than once.

The descent back into Mosedale, Red Pike and Yewbarrow on the right

A few beers and an early night saw us the next day taking a walk around Wast Water. We headed off down the road around 09:00 and took the path that dissects the National Trust campsite, through Brackenclose pasture, past Wasdale Head Hall Farm and onto the track that heads along the lake shore.

We were rewarded by spotting a pair of Buzzards, a Great Crested Grebe and a Female Kestral within 30 minutes. The track was well laid out and we were moving quickly along, traversing over small scree slopes as we went.

The path along the shore of Wast Water

  We eventually came to a boulder field with the path disappearing. Some of the boulders were the size of cars as we gingerly  stepped, climbed and balanced our way across. We all agreed at the other end that the wrong move or a slip could spell disaster.

We then made our way down the path, across the bridge and had lunch looking up the lake at Low Wood.

Lunch on the beach at Low Wood

After another good boil in the bag soup, we all set off on the way back doing a bit of tree and fungus ID as we went. We hit the road and made our steady way back to camp opposite the pub at Wasdale Head. Arriving back at camp we washed and changed and went for dinner in the pub, satisfied we had had a good weekend.

View up Wast Water to Great Gable in the centre of shot In all, a very enjoyable long weekend, good excercise, food and company.    

A hot day looking down onto Wast Water

A couple of weeks ago Sally and I spent a great 3 days camping at the National Trust campsite at Wasdale in Cumbria. I love this valley with all it has to offer, trees, plants, rivers, mountains and wildlife, I love it more mid week in January wild camping. 

However, the normal kit list for this time of year ( wetproofs, hats and fleeces ), turned into sun hats and sun block with gallons of water, it was so hot.

Our first walk was to ascend what i told Sal as Red Pike, however, Red Pike was on the other side of the valley as we ascended Scafell Pike. This was our 16th wedding anniversary and i wanted to celebrate it by climbing to the roof of England, but not telling the missus until she got there.

A few hours later with a bit of sweating and puffing and panting we reached the top. Sal could'nt believe that she had topped out the highest point in England, and has now got the camping and mountain bug even more than she previously had.

Sally & Mike, Scafell Pike 30 September 2011

 On our descent off the mountain we were buzzed by the RAF mountain rescue helicopter, as the chopper circled around the Scafell Massif we could here someone shouting. We glassed the faces of the mountain and morraine, but could see no one. As we descended further we met the rescue team ascending, the team seemed to be taking it easy, with  jovial banter between both parties. So we didn't think that there was a live rescue in progress, until we hit the Wasdale Head Inn later on that day and some locals filled us in.

RAF rescue helicopter on the side of Scafell, not knowing that it was a live rescue. A swift pint at the pub and a BBQ back at the campsite with an early night. The next day saw us taking a wander up the valley to Sty Head, watching the competitors of a fell race check in at the rescue hut. After lunch we meandered back down the valley, enjoying the majestic peaks.

In all, a great few days with a bit of excercise and a bit of relaxation, great.

You have to keep an open mind regarding the weather when travelling into Scotland. The day before our trip to the Isle of Lewis the ferry crossing was closed due to high winds. The plan had been in place for a couple of months, for the four of us to spend a few nights fishing and wild camping on the island. The ferry was running again when we arrived in Ullapool, but we suspected the Minch was grumpy after 3 days of battering from a North-North Westerly.
Ullapool was very wet, blustery and dead quiet, apart from the queue to board the ferry. Scott, Steph and I have done this trip before, but it was all new and exciting for Uta. The Caledonian MacBrayne ferry is now subsidised by the EU and costs much less than our previous trip; a car with 4 people is now about £140. You get a real sense of adventure looking back from the ferry to Ullapool that definitely adds to the trip. If you suffer from seasickness then you need to have taken seasick tablets 20 minutes prior to this point!! The departure was calm though squally, but the sea forecast was classed as Rough that day and a sudden lurch to the left, accompanied by the smashing of crockery, confirmed we were in open sea on the Minch. Sailing was ‘rock and roll’ until we moved into the wind shadow 30 minutes out of Stornaway.

Stornaway was quickly negotiated via Sportsworld fishing tackle shop and W. J. MacDonald butchers (tremendous black pudding) and we were into proper Lewis scenery. No trees on Lewis, well the odd one or two, but it's all heather, rock and loch. Very, very quiet, you can wildcamp out here for days and see or hear nobody. We chose a stony cove on the East coast of Lewis, a decent hike in from the vehicle, across a couple of burns and peat bog. The pitch wasn’t perfect, certainly not level, but we were happy with fitting all the kit, 3 men, 1 girl and Scotts’ enormous salami into 1 tipi!!

Travelling light - Scott, Steph & Kev

Time to get some fishing in. A short distance from our camp was a killer spot perched on 3m high cliffs that dropped straight into deep sea. Steph took on his 'first cast, first fish' routine and Bang! - decent Pollock for the pot. A very productive fishing session was interrupted with the appearance of a Seal bobbing in the swell; a nice sight and also a timely explanation for the sudden halt in our fishing success.  No complaints though as we had enough fish for a Thai green Pollock curry with rice and roti. Tough life this wild camping.

Next morning was windy and wet, so time for some more sea fishing. Lots of Pollock. Scott was catching well on spinners and flys and I was having great success jigging Berkley Powerbait Sandeels including a good Pollock of around 5 pounds. Steph chipped in with a lovely male Cuckoo Wrasse caught on bait (blueys), but it was a Pollock day for all of us...

Male Cuckoo Wrasse

...well more like a half day as we decided we didn't like the look of some worsening weather and got back over the hill to the tent. Within 30 minutes we were tent bound for the day. Serious blasts of multidirectional wind and horizontal curtains of rain for hours. The tent was swaying but holding firm, we were tanked up on red wine and salami with humour degenerating fast. I think that's called cabin fever and thanks to Uta we can now swear profusely in German!!

Next morning was (yep) wet and windy and we'd overdosed on the Pollock, so sights were changed to brown trout. The hike back out was considerably wetter under foot but a lot easier unburdened despite it being uphill. We took in a bit of tourism before fishing with a visit to the Callanish Stones. This is a 5000 year old, cross shaped arrangement of standing stones made of Lewisian Gneiss. An impressive feature and impressive hot soup in the visitor centre.

Callinsh Stones

Time to find a loch or two. I can't fly fish so I tried a bit of spinning while watching the experts with the flys. Far too shallow a loch for spinning and I rapidly became tired of clearing hook fulls of weed. The flys were successful and we had 5 good-sized Brownies for the hot smoker. To supplement this we stopped and foraged a pan full of mussels from a sea loch. Back in camp we set up a tarp on the beach against the cliff for shelter from the persistent wind and rain. The smoker worked well, which we’d put together from an old biscuit tin and a wire rack to keep the fish above a couple of handfulls of oak dust.

DIY hot smoker ( I'm too young to remember the biscuits!! )

The cold air temperature stopped the smoker getting fully hot enough so we finished off the cooking process in the fry pan, but the fish still had a great smoked flavour. Tonights menu: - mussels in white wine with garlic and onions, followed by smoked trout with boiled potatoes and a side order of cheesy Dorritos…a good day.

Next morning was windy and wet (yawn) and more ominously... Sunday. Everything on Lewis stops on a Sunday – a day of rest. Fishing is seen as work and can only be done by gulls or possibly in a Gilly Suit. So we had a day trip to Harris in the car to check out the beaches and the surf. The sun came out as we sat watching the Gannets dive into the surf and the beach at Tràigh Lar was lit up.

Sun and surf on Harris

Back in camp the rain had stopped and we gathered the disappointing amount of driftwood; picking it out of the even more disappointing mass of plastic items. Our camp was so remote that this permanent flotsam and jetsam can only have come in via the tide (next time we’re in here I’m bringing rubble sacks to bag this stuff and drag it out). We got a small fire going and, with the last of the Pollock, put on the fish and chips using Tempura batter mix…delicious.

The last morning started early. From the sleeping bag it seemed dry outside, maybe even bright and sunny despite 05:30 showing on the watch. Steph was up and outside first, firing up the multi fuel stove for a brew. I followed outside, wearing as few layers as possible to feel freedom from the full waterproofs that had been necessary since day one. Nice crisp air, flat sunny tide, nice cup of hot tea, not even the prospect of a heavy walk out was spoiling this morning. We were all up early and moving quickly, getting the gear stowed and split for the de-camp. The ferry was hours away but we had another two fishing sessions and a visit to see Scotts Gran to squeeze in. Steph was his usual considerate self and got the tent down with Uta, while Scott and I took a last trip over the hill to the cliffs to get some fishy presents to take home. Sunny last fishing session produced 2 decent Pollock from me and a big one from Scott on last cast.

Nice Pollock

Steph and Uta appeared over the hill, along with the previously absent midge, so we called time and got back to the camp which was now a grassy slope dotted with rucksacks. The walk out was heavy but not unpleasant, the sky had opened up and we watched a couple of crows on the wing harass an eagle out of sight. The wildlife up here is abundant, eagles are a common sight, seals patrol the shores and there are many seabirds. Steph pointed out a couple of Merlins that flashed past just as we approached the car, which was a great shout. We’d skipped breakfast so made huge porridge with honey while visiting Scotts Gran. You can’t say ‘no thanks’ to Scotts’ Gran so we also had pancakes and jam... burp!!

For our last fishing session I’d given up on spinning the lochs and tried fishing a fly and bubble off a light-spinning rod. Fantastic setup with instant results. An hour produced a couple of small brownies and one big one to take home. I’ve now added a bubble and a few flys to my modest wild camping fishing kit.

All that was left was a sunny, picturesque, flat calm trip on the ferry back to Ullapool. It would be easy to grumble at the arrival of fine weather, just as you depart, but we’d had a fantastic time. Sometimes when it’s hard it makes it more enjoyable – particularly in retrospect. After a round of beers on the ferry, and apart from the need for a bath, we all looked very well for the experience and are making plans for a return.



Our destination, Kinloch Hourn  Well, the time had come for our annual BIG TRIP. Adam, Tony and myself had been planning this week for over 8 months and have been looking forward to it for longer, the food was purchased, all the gear stowed in Adam’s van and the canoes strapped to the roof rack, we were ready.

Adam's van loaded and ready to go

The plan was a simple one, drive for 9 hours North to Scotland, camp for a week, walk, paddle, fish and do anything else that took our fancy. Our destination was Kinloch Hourn, a place Tony and myself briefly visited on last years BIG TRIP and a place we both agreed needed further investigation.

So, we were ready and raring to go, we set off around 08:00 after some final gear packing and checking with the weather being beautiful the whole way up. We arrived at our destination around 17:00. Kinloch Hourn is a small hamlet close to the shores of Loch Beag, that eventually turns into Loch Hourn. There is a small café, run by Joe and his missus who also take care of the B&B and holiday cottage. A lot of people park there vehicles opposite the café for a £1 a night and take the coastal walk to Barrisdale Bay campsite, which is the main staging post to tackle one of the remotest Munro’s, Ladhar Bheinn.

Anyhow, we were told by Joe’s missus to go and set up camp and Donald, the local stalker would be over and take the massive some of £1 per tent per night. We had two tents, Adam in a Helsport 12 -14 Lavvu and Tony and myself in my new best tent the Helsport Valhall. The total camping fee for the week was £14 all in, for this extortionate amount of money we had a flushing toilet at the café ( which only flushes when the diesel generator is operating ), a crystal clear, freezing cold burn with good swimming holes five paces from our tents for water, hot running water and a pay phone at Donald’s house, several Munro’s, loads of Corbett’s and Grahams, an open sea Loch full of fish, a large Lochan full of Trout, wildlife in abundance and very chatty friendly people.

Camp was sorted out in a couple of hours with Spag Bol going down well. Donald had not appeared, so we decided to go and pay up and took a walk to his place. Donald was busy with a tractor, so we paid our fee and left him to it. Lots of Red Stag’s around at the moment which Donald is feeding up for the season.

Red Stag's were grazing all around our camp

There was one other camper a few yards away from us who had pitched a familiar looking tent. On closer inspection the tent was a Helsport Ringstind 1. Tony got chatting to the guy and he had been in our shop a couple of weeks previous to purchase the tent, and had been using it on his trip and was very pleased with it, which was nice.

A long day was had, so we decided to call it a night.

   Helsport Valhall and Helsport 12 - 14 Varanger 

Day 2 saw us having a lazy morning in the lovely sunny weather sorting out gear, drinking tea and having a big greasy fry up. In the afternoon we took the canoes to the shore line and put in, the wind was up and a little chop in the Loch made for some interesting paddling. Adam and me were in my boat and Tony in his, as we headed down the Loch, the sea is so clear you can see 10 meters down or more and as always the curious Seals started to investigate the boats as we paddled.

We landed on a pebble beach and decided to have a brew and a bite to eat as we took in our surroundings which never cease to amaze. On the way back I taught Adam some paddle strokes as he had limited open canoe time. J- stroke, Goon stroke, sweep stroke, draws and pry’s were shown and practiced, as well as tacking into the wind. We landed back at our start point and the tide had gone out considerably, so we had to line the boats back, get them above the high tide line, flip them over and tie off.

Back at camp Adam was sorting out the fishing gear and Tony and I made a quick Chicken curry with Nan bread, GOOD. The rest of the evening was spent chatting around the fire, and star gazing when the Sun had finished it’s shift for the day.

Day 3. The rain came in in the early hours and persisted most of the day. We decided to go for a walk and set on the idea of a valley walk up Allt Coire Sgoireadail to Loch Bealach. We set of from camp with lightweight gear and headed up the Coire, there was some tough going in parts as there is only a deer track to follow. Eventually we hit a wall of Rhododendron and decided to ascend above the tree line. In time we hit the quad bike wide path that takes you through some fascinating scenery with the majestic peaks of Sgurr Mhaoraich, Sgurr Thionall and Buidhe Bheinn.

Allt Coire Sgoireadail on the way to Loch Bealach

The track meandered through the Coire and in places turned into blanket bog with some heavy going. Finally we reached Loch Bealach and the usual well routined brew making and chocolate eating was had, while looking at the shimmering water and the steep slope of Doire Leathain. Very quickly it got quite cold and the cloud moved in with sporadic showers, so we decided to descend the same route via the very beautiful Loch Coire Shubh, that looked promising for Trout. We hit the road and headed back down the road to camp.

Looking down on camp on our way back

Back at camp the process of drying kit and cooking was getting into full swing, with a good routine in place. The evening was clear as we sat out around the fire and chatted.

Day 4 saw us putting the boats in the Loch around 09:00. The weather was wet with low cloud with a stiff North Westerly blowing in on the Loch. We packed the boats the same as the day before and set off to explore the island of Eilean Mhogh-sgeir. The paddle was relatively short and Adam seemed to be getting into the swing of it. We landed on the slippery wet rocks of the island, and found it to be a Heronry, with one of the birds bursting out of it’s nest on our arrival. A tarp was erected just up from the boats and the kettle went on as we explored the island. I couldn’t believe to find Red deer droppings smack bang in the middle of the island, only thinking that they could swim across in low tide and browse the island.

Mike showing Adam some canoe strokes

Tackling up on Eilean Mhogh-sgeir

After tea, Adam advised Tony and myself on the fishing tackle we were going to use as the first cast was placed. Adam had the first luck as literally on his first cast he landed a nice sized Pollock. The fish was deemed big enough to eat and promptly dispatched and placed in a folding bucket with some sea water to keep it fresh. We were all chuffed and thought the game was on and we would have a bucket full by the end of the day.

Adam's Pollock

We decided to break camp and move across to the mainland and try our luck fishing off the rocks. The gear was packed and stowed and we set off. After a quick paddle we were fishing again, moving further along the rocky coastline every 6 to 10 casts. A flash of movement in the corner of my eye and the arched back and the rubber like dorsal fin of a Porpoise cruised by, the first one I have ever seen. Then 30 seconds later an Otter popped out of the water just 20 feet in front of us with a small Crab in it’s mouth. The Otter laid flat and started crushing the outer shell of the crustacean with gusto, chomping away, oblivious of our presence. Then Tony appeared in his canoe around the headland, the Otter froze, then bolted and slid back into the sea in 1 second. What a day, brilliant.

We headed across the Loch to a pebble beach opposite the island, had a brew and something to eat. The tide was going out fast, so we lashed the boats together and sailed back down the loch to our start point, Seal spotting all the way back. We decided to gather some large Mussels of the rocks in low tide, and placed these in the bucket with the Pollock.

We are sailing, we are sailing, home again, accross the sea

Back at camp it was my turn to cook, Moules Marineer with a Pollock Chowder, Awesome. Sometimes I don’t know how we survive.

Day 5 saw us doing some admin, sorting gear and showering etc. After lunch we walked down the road past the café and onto the footpath around the coast towards Barrisdale Bay. A good fishing spot was found and yet again Adams first cast landed a Pollock that followed the other one into piscatorial heaven. Tony and me hadn’t even had a nibble at this stage, so we were getting a little fed up.

Fishing off the rocks

After a few hours we made our way back to camp, with a brief stop off at the café for tea and cake and a chat to Joe. We decided to steam the Pollock in Bladder Rack seaweed, this turned out to be no where near as good as the chowder.

More chatting around the fire as the sun went down behind Sgurr Dubh, another good day.

Day 6 found us on the water once again, the boats in tandem and in full sail. Joe at the café had given away his favourite fishing place, so this was the goal for today. Joe said in a salty seadog, Blackbeard, Pirates of the Caribbean kind of twang but with a hint of Highlander “ Go to Caolas Mor narrows, where you will find a dead tree, that’s the place”. We landed on a pebble beach at Caolasmor having past through a vast Jelly fish herd and made tea ( How English ). Adam sorted out the fishing tackle and we put in and floated in the aforementioned best fishing spot. After 2 hours fishing from the boats, the rocks and many changes of tackle we had a massive hoard of 0 fish, gutted.

Mike posing for a photo, that now resides on his study wall, thanks to Tony

We packed the gear and sailed and paddled back down the Loch and found a nice bay to pull into for more tea. We decided to give it another try and put in and floated back down the Loch fishing as we went, still nothing. However, we passed many seals that were basking on the rocks, so this did make up for it, I suppose ( in a disappointed kind of way ).

Basking Seal