PTC*

It’s a big day tomorrow. Joycee has biggest of the bigness though, it’s the unveiling of her sculpture of St Kessog in Luss on Loch Lomondside. There’s a whole day of events leading up to it, and she’ll be burst by the end of it. We dropped him into his hole earlier tonight, he’s looking good for a 1500-year-old. Both Holly and I shall be waving and grinning as Mummy does her stuff.

Me? I’m expecting answers, although to be fair I might have to wait until Thursday for them. Whatever those answers are will mean I’ll have to do one thing or another. It’s a bugger not being able to bluff my way through everything I do.

The Loch Lomond Wild Camping er, demonstration(?) is now confirmed, we’re just looking at A and B dates, April or May.
A couple of folks from the Park HQ will be joining me on a wild camping trip on Loch Lomondside, we’ll be looking at where and how to pitch, water, waste, and all the ways to make wild camping low-impact and responsible, and maybe most importantly possible. That of course is the easiect thing in the world to do, we all do it, but with good coverage it’s a chance to show the man in the street what the difference is between wild campers and informal campers.
Maybe the difficulty will be scaling that difference down enough to fit it onto even the biggest wide-screen TV?

Xy Weiss gave me a shout recently, “Your gaiters must be shredded, I’ll send you some new ones”. And that was some smart thinking, because upon inspection my old purple-flame pair were indeed looking a little tired.
So here we have two new pairs of Dirty Girl Gaiters to get me through another summer on the trails without getting crap in my shoes.

These are genius. Simple weightless spandex cuffs that clip into your laces at the front and stick to your shoe at the back. How do they stick? There’s some Velcro for you to attach to your heels (enough for three pairs if you’re careful). They keep out dirt, mud, bits of heather, wee beasties and snakes, probably.
They are available in every colour and pattern you can think of, are $22 including shipping to the UK and will brighten your day when you sit down at camp and remember that you’re wearing psychedelic spats.

Marvellous.

I hate doing this kind of admin shit, but I’m adding a new thing as I try to gradually improve the indexing in the warehouse of unmarked cardboard boxes I call my blog.
So “Gear Diary” is a new category, and what I’ll do is update all the progress of test kit that I use during my Kilpatricks trips and general fannying about. I’m aiming for a weekly thing, but it’ll fall on it’s arse quite quickly no doubt, but Jimmy loves a trier.
Also, it means there’s always a random place on the front page for unrelated comments to be posted from anybody who wants to post comments unrelatedly. That 500-comment gear page isn’t getting repeated and having some king of forum plug-in will only lead to an embarrassingly empty hall where I’ll play to an old man who came in out of the rain for a little while with his dog, and the bar staff.

So my first update is that I have removed the swing tags from the new arrivals and it went very smoothly.

There’s one name that’s comes up a lot when I’m talking about top-end kit: does the quality compare; is the fit as good; are the fabrics the same spec; are the features as purely technical? I’ve never had a answer to that.
So, it’s with real interest that I’ve casting an eye over the batch of test kit from Arc’teryx.
I’ve got a good cross-section of their clothing, so hopefully I’ll be able to get something of a feeling for the brand. I can say already that it’s very individual, from the styling, to the construction, to the fabrics and even the colours.
I took a size large in everything, and that looks to have been the right choice, the fit being slimmer for a given size compared to other kit from the brand’s living across the Atlantic. The sizing seems to be graded too, each layer being slightly wider that than the one designed to go underneath it. Nice.

Above is the Delta LT Zip, a simple lightweight midlayer in a pullover style.
It’s a basic as you can get, it’s fabric, stitching and a zip. The zip is a good length for venting, the collar is a medium height, the arms and body are nicely long. It’s very soft, being made from Polartec 100 MicroGrid and there’s some nice subtle shape manipulation in the construction to give freedom of movement without lots of extra fabric causing bunching up.
It feels light, packs down small and should give good warmth for winter layering and better weather bimbling.

Above in fetching “Mahogany” is the Rho LT Zip. It’s a baselayer, but I can see it as a midlayer as well, the fabric has just enough thickness that it’ll do both, so I’ll layer it over merino short-sleeves and vest as well as wearing it on its own.
The fit on me is great, long and slim, skin-tight in fact, but the Rentex Powerflex fabric is so soft and stretchy there’s no feeling of pressure or restriction.
There’s a good length zip, medium height collar, and unusually for a baselayer, a pocket. This is a small laminated affair, and would be handy for keeping lip balm and camera batteries unfrozen, this winter has brought such things to the fore.
The construction echoes that of the Delta LT Zip, free movement with neatness.

Arc’teryx have the Gamma LT Jacket billed as “…wind and moisture resistant softshell jacket for everyday use”, and as mountain-appropriate as the the thing is, I can see what they mean. It’s got a slightly more relaxed fit, less overtly technical styling compared to many softshells and of course, no hood.
The fabric is Burly Double Weave which has a good bit of stretch and feels pretty beefy (I resisted the temptation say burly there), the construction is an interesting mix of lamination and stitching, the zips are the chunky YKK’s that I like (are big zips coming back?) and there’s pockets that’ll carry hat, gloves and Buff as well as my bacon rolls and a danish when I’m at my work. Aye, it does have that cross functionality, and most of the kit I get sent has too, as almost all of it goes to work with me at some point.

The Gamma LT Pants above are dead simple to look at, but as with all the Arc’teryx kit, the detail is where it’s at.
The Fortius fabric a light and soft, sewn and laminated into subtle shapes to ease leg movement. There’s two hip and one thigh zipped pockets (no rear pocket, hurrah! pointless bloody things most of the time), zipped fly, integral belt with a velour inner waistband, clever ankle adjustment and again some nice fabric work to keep the profile neat and the comfort good.
They feel nice on, and the understated looks are quite unusual for me, they’re as technical as you need, but won’t have folk looking at me like I’ve just got off the plane from Kathmandu.

The Alpha SL Pullover below is an interesting mix of throwback and cutting edge. A pouch pocket smock? That’s as old school as it gets, but we’ve also got micro seam-taped Paclite, laminated construction, water resistant zips and a colour that would stun a donkey. I think it’s one of the most individual looking shells out there, but the features are right on the money, so this is no novelty item.
It feels good on, smocks are like that, they don’t piss about making the few seconds of getting it on and off the focus of design, they’re all about the wearing. The pouch pocket is right there in front of you, it’s huge and will be very handy indeed. The hood is a pulls in nicely round a bare head, velcro cuffs and there’s pit-zips, one of which extends to the hem to split the jacket, so I will be able to take it off inside a Laser Photon Elite. The pit-zips also allow you to get your hands inside the jacket for warming and pocket rummaging.
It’s a lightweight smock (322g they say), but it has more features that most, the pit-zips and adjustable cuffs being the the items usually missing, and I can get a loaf of bread into that pouch pocket. Smocks aren’t known for their cargo carrying prowess.

It’s an interesting collection of kit, and it’s good to be testing something that does feel quite “different”.
I’ll report back as I go, so more soon.

Just in for test in Montane’s new Dyno Jacket. This impressed on a showroom visit a while back and I’m glad to say the production version looks plenty nice and large is a nice fit. Oh I hate having to wedge myself into a size medium sample…

What have we got? Well, on the face of it, a General Issue softshell with regulation features such as hood and two chest pockets. But as ever, there lurks within, facts and features at which one can raise an eyebrow, purse lips,  even place a hand upon the hip and throw ones head back to the sounds of a theatrical laugh.

The fabric they’re using is a good talking point, it’s Pertex Equilibrium ECO. It’s got great moisture management, whether it’s coming from inside or outside, and decent wind resistance with a little bit of stretch. But that ECO tag means that’s it’s both recycled and recyclable, surely the way forward for any “man made” fabric?
There’s more here than a green stamp of course, it’s got the no-frills practical spec that you expect from Montane too.

Those chunky red YKK zips are nice for a couple of reasons. All we seem to get these days are the water resistant types, or fine toothed/coiled reversed zips, so a change is good, and it’s the sound they make too: ZZZZZRRRRRPP! They say “I’m a big zip, get oot ma face” without apology. Refreshing to see and reassuring in the hand.
The cut is good, Montane are increasingly dialing the whole range into an athletic fit, I hope this follows through to the older models like the Featherlite. I’m no Hen Broon, but slimmer fit is always better, and lighter too mind.
The hood below has a wired peak, so the Dyno is intended as your all-day outer layer. It’s a good hood, nice fit with good protection, good adjustment around the face, a wee velcro tab for volume adjustment at the back of the head (which really should be a drawcord these days) and it rolls away , secured with a velcro tab.
A lovely wee touch is the soft lycra patches against your wrist. It feels nice and gives a close fit without any pressure as well.

I haven’t weighed it yet, but Montane’s 375g doesn’t sound over-optimistic, and at £90 I reckon this is going to put the frighteners on a few folk whose similar models are well past the ton.
It’s got the new embroidered logo too. Aye, much better.

More later.

A 1500-odd feet peak isn’t really a test, I know that, but it’s worth mentioning a few things because it was bloody cold and the conditions were, well, wintry.

First up are Kahtoola Microspikes, I never used them when they came out because I had Icebugs, and the overlap to Aluminium KTS’s looked like too much, but on frozen woodland trails and the patchy ascent to Ben A’an they were magic. So okay, I’ll carry them more.

I had the Karrimor X-Lite 35, and like it’s bigger brother I’ve got on test, it both delights and confounds. The body, lid and stretch pocket are brilliant, the shoulder harness is very comfortable, the hip fins are overbuilt for the capacity and are annoying and there’s no bottle pockets. I fitted the cracking Inov8 bottle carrier to a shoulder strap, so water was to hand, but the hip belt needs to be softer. And have pockets. The chest strap doesn’t have a whistle buckle either. I don’t even know here my whistle is, all my other packs have one on the buckle. We’ll see how this unfolds.

The Haglöfs Lizard Top won the toss over my planned outing for the Montane Extreme Smock as I thought I’d be too warm (I’d have been fine as it turned out), and over a longsleeve merino top the Lizard is proving to be very good indeed.
When moving in the weather we’ve been having there’s enough wind resistance and insulation for me to feel “just nice”, even when running , but when stopped I do cool quite quickly, but not instantly as expected.
Breathability is outstanding, I stay dry in this, even when it’s not the top layer. I know there was some “What’s the point?” with this, but it really is a magic bit of kit.

The Montane Flux has been about a fair bit now, and I love it. It’s slimmer fit (for an insulating jacket) makes it great for instant warmth as there’s no air gap to heat, the mobility makes it great on the move and the features are outstanding. You could argue that it could have more fill and be warmer, but it wouldn’t be so wearable as a general piece, as it is, just add a down gilet and you’re laughing.

Also dug out the Haglöfs Iguana softshell pants for a wee change, and my phone fell out of the stud fastened pocket into the snow, so maybe they were right to can them after what, one season? Great pants otherwise though.
On the feet were Keen Oregon PCT’s, unsung heroes of sorts. A magic boot of which I’ll need to update properly at some point.

I finished early on Monday. A site visit got moved to the next day, and I couldn’t resist making a dash for some sun and snow.
The Kilpatricks were too easy, 900m was too much, Ben A’an was just nice.

The Road Closed sign at the David Marshall lodge both goads and annoys. It’s just laziness, the road is usually passable with care, and leaving the signs there from November until Easter is going to make folk take a chance on the road or divert them via Callander where they’ll drive too fast to make up time and both versions are unnecessary risks. Electric signs and proper road monitoring is what we need. Plus you can’t see the signs from the back very well, and placed as they are in the centre of the road means missing them at 60mph in the dark is a bit of a lottery.

The climb up is always steep, I don’t know why I expect it not to be, but it heaves you into the forest, which this time had frozen snow for a path. Definitely Microspikes terrain and I crunched by wobbly descenders with a mix of smugness and a distinct conspicuous feeling, being overdressed for such a bimble.
The sky was super blue, ultra blue even, and wispy feathers of cloud drifted over and away from me.

When I got to the top there was another like-minded soul waiting for the end of the day, and not long after another face bobbed into view through the heather covered snow.
We stood and waited for the sun to sink. Gloves were donned, jackets zipped up and although the warm alpenglow spread across the landscape behind us, the cold was biting deep already and we were only two before the sun hit the Arrochar Alps.

The cold pressed on as the sun dragged the last of the warmth the with it over the horizon and I was now alone waiting for something to happen. The clouds burned red for a moment and then all was dark.

The descent was through shades of indigo, silver and black. The forest was silent.
The Duke’s Pass with my full beam bouncing off of the snow cover was like a PlayStation game with consequences other than Play Again? But it was uneventful and short the homeward drive was occupied by visions of phantom food, ghostly sausages, poltergeist pies and undead donuts. I’d spent a lot longer up there that I’d planned.
I stuck the oven on when I got home and jumped over to the harbour where the moon was shrugging off the last of the cloud.

It’s now Wednesday as I re-write this from memory after the blog died, taking this wee story along with it, and was revived by skills well beyond my own. I was right with what I originally said, never play your ace on a Monday. The rest of the week is invariably the three of clubs and the Joker.

I’ve spent a lot of time this past week with maps and books, even looking back through the blog and packets of my old photies for ideas for new Trail Routes. And you know something, my enthusiasm and excitement for this stuff has never been higher.
No matter how much gear I get sent to test, or how many outdoor-related distractions appear, none of it is taking anything away from the simple joy of heading out there.
Something changed for me last year, and it was on that final successful trip to Sgurr nan Ceathreamhnan. I had that feeling of re-discovery, an awakening of sorts after a long doze maybe, and it hasn’t gone away.
I’m planning trips where I’m pointing at the map and walking through the contour lines in my mind and grinning away to myself, I’m thinking about what colour that lochan will be, indigo or algae green, where will I pitch to feel the sunrise warm the tent and waken me gently. I’m sitting here typing, but if I blink I’m also on a top breathing in the cold air and pulling up my hood as the light dims and thoughts (once again) turn to hot cuppas and dinner.
I can be awfy faddy at times, but the Highlands have been a constant for me and as I grow older their grip is tightening. No, not a grip, an embrace.
To find a little thing like that in life, that feels like it’s just enough, I just couldn’t ask for more.

A working week trapped in a whirlpool of coincidence and stupidity has reached the deceleration zone.

Meeting new folk all the time gives me a sometimes amusing, always enlightening and often frightening insight into the wide range of people whose lives, when woven together form the manky dog blanket of society.
It was one of those weeks when I felt like a visitor to the blanket, perhaps a flea, maybe even a moth, probably a big brown one, more times than I felt like a stitch in the weave.
Thank Jimmy for my fellow fleas and moths.

Let’s wash the dog blanket on Sunday if it’s a nice day. Or better still, let’s beat it with one of this big wicker things that you see in the Broons. Looks like a Ace of Clubs.

What the hell happened to the dog?

That blue monster above is the Yeti Professional Jacket, the biggest and most badass of the Yeti range which is now available in the UK.
It’s not all arctic extremes though, there’s some properly lightweight gear in there too. I had a look through the range last month when I was down south and was loathed to leave some of it behind as I drove from the showroom straight home.
Above is the Solace vest, and below the Purity jacket, 180g and 240g respectively. Both 800+ Eu fill and with Toray’s world beating down-proof face fabric. Both pack into your trouser pocket, and having learned that if down is handled well (Yeti is hand-made in Germany) pack size is not related to warmth, it’s the quality of the components and construction that supply that. So, I’d be expecting good things from these.
I love the look as well, that slanty front baffling is gallus.

This green hoody is the Barricade Jacket, which is hiding a lot of grunt under that olive green bonnet.
It’s got unusual sloping-box chambers to try and keep a fat wedge of down sitting to attention at all times to maximise heat capacity,there’s stretch seams in back areas (which you can see above), and there’s synthetic fill mixed into shoulder area for better wear protection. The shell is Pertex Microlight with a beefy DWR, the fill is 700+ 90/10 European down and it looks to be a general hard-wearing piece as opposed to just hill-wear.
They way our winters are going maybe we’ll all end up with stuff like this in our winter wardrobes instead of denim jackets.

The hoodless bag below is the V.I.B. 150, a 415g minimalist affair with 800+ fill and unusually for this spec of bag, a full-length zip.
The mat in the photies is Yeti too, a Daybreak I think (?!), which are available here too.

Two extremes here. Above is the Passion One, the worlds lightest down bag they say at 265g and 320g for the medium and large sizes. For that you get 100g of 900+ down fill, a full-length zip and and a few square yards of Toray’s amazingly fine LightyGram RipStop Nylon inside and out. It’s stitch-through, but balance that with the 900 down, and from experience this will be warmer than it looks and boost a bigger bag well into the minus degrees world if used as a liner.

Below is the V.I.B. 1200 which was about two feet high before I even got in it. It’s well out of my sphere of operations, but I always marvel at this stuff and the frankly insane temperatures it’s designed to operate at, -43°C extreme rating for this bugger for example.
The footbox is multi-layered, there’s 1250g of 800-fill down in it, and like all the Yeti kit you can’t help but marvel at the quality of it. Don’t need it, just want it.

Another view of the V.I.B. above. It’s like the Rolling Stones big lips logo isn’t it? Although there’s more chance of this sleeping bag having written more than one good song in the last 30 years…

Below is the Powerizer 750 , it has water resistant sides and back, a water resistant zip and 700+ down fill. I like this idea better than a fully waterproof down bag. I have visions of the down never fully drying out, and whether that’s accurate or not, I’m not alone in having that notion, so this should appeal to some fence sitters on the matter. Plenty of bags get extra water protection on the head and foot, this is just a sensible extension of that.

There’s a whole bunch of other stuff, non-down technical clothing, various mats and variations of the bags above. Accessories too like the Professional Down Shoes below, and the quality looks to be top end, no doubt.
I’ll have plenty more to say when I get some road miles on some test kit.

Couple of quickies.
After quite a break from using it, I wore the Haglöfs Halo Jacket last night on the bike and I’d forgotten how good it is.
I know in general Gore Windstopper is something that I avoid, but the light, soft and stretchy version they use on the surfaces that face the direction of travel on the Halo really does work in these cold conditions. I was wearing it over a 190 weight merino longsleeve, when I was climbing I had it zipped open, and once at the quarry it was zipped and stayed that way. I was pushing a lot of the time and definitely sweating, but stayed comfy and dry. I think the Flexable light softshell used on the back and underarms, which does let the wind through, helps as I did maintain a nice equilibrium when I was working.
The tail didn’t ride up either, partly because of the good design and slim fit, an partly because of the Terra Nova Laser pack I was carrying, another bit of kit I’d forgotten about. It carries so well, and the bottle pockets are so poor on this first generation sample.
I carried the Berghaus Chulu vest which works as you’d expect, keeps your trunk and hands warm and fits easy into a wee pack. It was so cold later on that I was riding with it on, and that yellow colour did get me noticed as I trundled in front of four lanes of traffic on the way home.

I’ll wear mostly the same kit on the next evening ride, but I’ll swap the Haglöfs Kazoo Pants for the Haglöfs Paze Tights if it’s still this cold, and I’ll take thicker gloves. Two pairs of thicker gloves. And my Buffalo DP Mitts.

It had seemed like a good idea. I got away a little early, the bike was freshly cleaned, lubed and adjusted and I have hills right behind me.
On many levels this plot had holes in it though. More so than even Alien³ where many of the cast died from editing rather than the regulation shiny-toothed double-jaw application or a smack in the head from Ripley. I shall step onto the down escalator and note the obvious mistakes as though they were those wee adverts next to subway escalators that always look squint, although it’s really an optical illusion. Or is it?

It was warm as I climbed the long track up The Slacks, sweat dripped from my eyebrows as a spun the pedals slowly. The sun shone, the sky was ice blue and I had to sit down and take a break at the level section at the old quarry.
I haven’t been on a bike in four months. Hell, I hadn’t even cleaned the bike since the West Highland Way. I think I may have had lingering issues.
I should have had a wee trial ride around the lower trails, part of the reasoning for going out for a ride was that the gentle spinning would be good for my twanged leg, but I got all excited and headed for the hills.

I sat at the quarry and pulled on a vest as it was cold. Somehow I hadn’t expected it to be that cold, with frost, and ice and well, wintery coldness. I don’t get that when I’m out on a bike.
The ground was hard, it crunched as I rode, and as I got higher the ground became porridge, where the oats were gravel and the milk was ice. My tyres were biting, but I was tired from the now unfamiliar exertion and was now a little rattled by the terrain.
But my confidence did slowly increase, and so did my speed. Apart from the stinging cheeks and watering eyes, it was like a summers morning up there.
I turned around Loch Humphrey and heard a loud moan above the chatter of my my drive train and the manic crunching of my tyres. I dropped the bike and ran to the top of the knoll to look at the frozen loch as it once again squeaked and let out another huge moan. It was so loud and so unexpected that I just stood and laughed. I watched for big cracks appearing and Russian submarines emerging, but the cold crept up on me again and I was glad to be generating some heat in the saddle.

The track was frozen solid now, the ruts were like concrete and any big stones were using their frosty coating as a lure to to snare the unwary, and although I did have a couple of mildly sideways moments, it was a joy tearing down the completed new trail, fast as well in this condition.
I could see the sun catching the treetops with a vivid orange spray and I raced the darkening trails, dodging frozen puddles and crossing ice flows with one eye shut in anticipation of disaster to find clear air at the Lang Craigs where I could drink in that familiar sight that never fails the excite, delight, inspire, challenge or confound me. The sun setting over my home.

I lingered. I love it here. But I love the long, fast descent to Overtoun and the A82 too, I did a 180° and headed to the top of the track through long dried grass, thick with hoar frost, amazed at how well the tyres were sticking.
The run was fast, and at times hairy. The ground was solid, there was water-ice, more frozen, angular ruts forcing constant changes in direction with me trying not to be jerky and inducing a slide. I found lines where I didn’t know ther could be one and by the time I hit the gate at the bottom I was grinning, panting, shedding snotters and I couldn’t feel my fingers.

I switched my light on and trundled into the dark trees where there was more ice than gravel. I walked the bike around the glowing white obstacles and hit the tarmac where I rolled downhill easy. Too easy. I stopped, pulled on a buff, extra gloves and the vest. The windchill cut me to the bone as a hared through the darkness. My hands might as well have been in arctic mitts, I couldn’t feel a thing, and by the time I got the the rush of traffic, gears were beyond me and using the brakes was going to make me cry at any second.
I negotiated the road somewhat unconvincingly, and got to my folks house where assistance was rendered in manner which made me feel like a nine year old boy who’d came home wet-through and frozen after playing in the snow all day with his pals. And my leg was throbbing like a bastard.

What an absolutely brilliant evening.