I’m rather pleased to have been asked to be a ranger for the Woodland Trust at their Lang Craigs site in the Kilpatrick Hills.
It’s a volunteer post (so you can sit back down taxman) and one that I’m more than happy to dedicate time and effort to. The Kilpatricks look safer right now than they have done, the Woodland Trust might be making a mess, but they’re thinking of the future and I want to do something to help along the way. These hills have given me a lot and it’s time I gave something back.
I might know the place like the back of my hand, but I’ve still got stuff to learn about what grows and lives there, whether it’s got legs, roots or wings. So this will be good for me, but what else will I be doing? We’ll see about that soon.

Update

I’ve done my first day on the site which was a community tree planting day. The weather was awful, wet and windy, which for me just meant what colour of shell to chose, but for the public that came along, to me it just showed how engaging the Lang Craigs is becoming to people that they still came out to plant trees.
700 trees went in, quite high up too, so we were quite exposed and still folks in their casual gear, kids with runny noses, pensioners and the rest all got knee deep in mud and got the job done. I was impressed and heartened.
I did my best to be helpful to the visitors in my hi-viz vest and had to learn quick which I think I did, got a lot of new information of which I have retained a good bit. Got a lot of exercise too, up and down the hill all day with spades, trees, bags of this, that and a big bloody flag which was like a parachute in the wind.
When I got home I was covered in mud to my waist, I was tired and I was grinning from ear to ear. This was one of my best hill days for ages, I think I’m going to enjoy this.

Rocking on its sump with one wheel idly spinning over the water below, the willow man’s Landy was an early casualty of the conditions.

Fear divides and fear unites. It’s whether you have hope or not that decides which you way you will fall.

So much water. Rivers were bursting their banks, the lochs are full, chilled and clear, even fields should be patches of blue on the map.

He’d taken the package after 35 years service. Now he was heading for the hills and his pup is finding its feet. The three of us shared a smile and a laugh and a tale or two and I wish them well.

Fairies are real, but if you want to see them you have to believe. I believe.

Sometimes it doesn’t work out, sometimes the memories I bring back aren’t the ones I set out to find. Sometimes it’s a fat old man that limps off the hill but it’s always a lively young man that thinks ahead to the next time when it’ll be different and better.

Test kit never dies, but it does go to a better place. Sometimes full of LED’s and boxes of rocks n’ stuff.

The Artful Dodger with a Jammie Dodger.

I sat and watched the shadows drift over the heather and rock. I was out of the sun and enjoying the cool air, but not for long, still, it was good to find peace like that without sitting by a tent.

“That media message took a week to come through, I’m assuming Apple and Sony don’t see i to eye?”

Eight miles high, about to fall, and no one there to catch you.

Bless my phone. Sony’s new update means that in poor light I sometimes get a double exposure thing going on. It’s a fail wrapped around a win.

“Very nice, is that t-shirt the same colour as a tennis ball?”
“Er, yes, thanks for that”.

Autographs are for star struck teenagers? Apparently not.

Any comment I put here isn’t going to be as funny as the photie all on its own.
Aggressive marketing or appealing to the wallets of teenage males? Whatever, it’s got more humour than you’ll find in any regular outdoor catalogue or shopping website and that’s a good thing.

Thanks for the photie Das!

It’s not enough that they’re watching our every move but they want to give the electric eyes Mad Max baddie hairstyles to try and intimidate us as well.

I miss old cinemas. I miss ice cream girls and supporting features and knowing you had see the movie because it would be years before it turned up on the telly. I don’t miss smoking in cinemas mind you. Back in the 80′s, just where that yellow digger is was the big theatre where smoking was to one side and passive smoking was to the other. The air conditioning tried its best but looking across from the passive side you could see the line where the atmosphere changed like there was a gauze curtain down the centre aisle trapping half the audience in a grey soup which when lit by the flickering screen looked like something from a horror movie, especially when someone stumbled along the row of seats looking for a toilet looking every inch like an approaching zombie.
It’s sad to see the long-closed Glasgow ODEON finally being torn down. I saw Star Wars here in ’77, saw a press screening of Terminator 2 (who knew Arnie was going to be the goodie?), saw a mate and his girlfriend split up over the course of the visit, ate countless hotdogs and even spent one entire day in the cinema for a dare, going to a different movie at every showing for something like 14 hours. It was brilliant.
Bless you and thanks for everything.

Holly is asking questions and rightly so. Answering them isn’t always straight forward, I will never lie to her, but I have to explain the truth in terms that are fair to her but will not throw her forward to times and realities that will come to her all too soon anyway. I will make her as ready as I can, but I will defend her childhood with my life.
But, it does give me a very enlightening perspective on life, indeed, on my own life. To explain the bigger questions I have to strip things down to their basic elements and suddenly I’m seeing things in ways I haven’t seen them in a long time and it’s done me a lot of good.
I believe what I believe why? Habit or conviction? Answer a child’s question truthfully and you put yourself under the spotlight as much as you’re passing on information.

We went to Helensburgh for chips on Wednesday night and then a walk on the waterfront to burn them back off which didn’t go as planned, a cold wind, random children attaching themselves to us and a gull dropping a crab at us from 40 feet above had us running back to the motor. We went left and ended up passing through Arrochar to see the demolition of the torpedo base which is now going to be some kind leisurey thing. Good, it was a manky hole for all its curiosity value. We carried on to the event car park down the far side of Loch Long, somewhere that not many folk know about and that gives you quick access to the tracks high on the hillside.
Off we went across the parapet-less bridge which Holly pointed at and shouted “Health and safety!” to much chuckling from us. It was cool but calm, dusk was wrapping around us, but we playing with sticks, watched for bears and trekked towards Argyll’s Putting Green. I got a good workout carrying the shortest of our party back to the motor on my shoulders as it was “too dark to walk”. Aye, so it was.

Black Sabbath tickets went on general sale on Friday. Standing tickets sold out quick and by Friday evening standing tickets were for sale on GetMeIn for ridiculous amounts of money, some listed at £500+. Hopefully no one will ever pay this amount, but is just shows you how wrong the ticketing system is to make this kind of extortion possible. That the GetMeIn website and others like it exist at all makes me seethe, that people need nothing more than an internet connection and a credit card to make money by buying the tickets that fans wanted to buy just to go to the gig makes my knuckles white.
Only talent and hard work deserve reward.
Tickets should be done away with, we should have something else, mobile card readers at the venue doors or something to prevent reselling and touting.

It should be the Black Sabbath Trio as there’s no Bill Ward on drums, the new album snippets sound worrying, but something that says “Black Sabbath Glasgow Hydro December 16th” is something I can’t ignore. My favourite band haven’t played my home city in 30+ years.

O2 customer presale this morning at 0900, I have had two hideously overpriced tickets since five last nine. I defy anyone to navigate Ticketmaster any quicker.
Livenation presale tomorrow, general sale on Friday.

I have to be optimistic.

People rushed to join the crowd who were already gathered at the crossroads. Mothers held children in their arms and covered their eyes, the men shouted opinions or curses at each other while pointing above. Shopkeepers stood at their doors while customers left their purchases and wandered out to join the throng. Windows were opened and heads hung out to look and up and down to make sense of it. Sirens grew closer, uniforms battled through the packed streets to get to the crossroads while a few locals leaned by the door of the pub chortling with tumblers in their hands.
It was a mix of party and panic when there was a gasp followed by silence.
Monkey had slipped.

Been a while since I’ve done one of these posts and I’ve had too much new gear on the go to backtrack, so I’m going to start up my regular gear posts again with some new kit from the Coigach trip.

The Force10 Helium Carbon 100 is the big news for me and it was interesting in many ways, although visually it’s in the area of a Terra Nova Laser, in reality it’s completely different.
This was the first I’d pitched the Helium and a hungry man at dusk at the controls without instructions is always the best test of how easy something is to pitch. It went well I thought, I wrestled with the main pole a little, but I’d missed an adjuster which means that next time will be fine. The end poles are great, they slip in and out without stressing any seams and the pegging points are numerous and well placed.
The inner has good space, this is way better than the old Helium with only one end pole. My feet can miss one end and at the same time leave storage space above my head at the other end which is the way a tent should be: usable. The inner was a little loose and hangy at my head end, something that I think should improve as I’ve adjusted the fly/inner attachments since I’ve been back. I got a shower of ice from the inner as well, it was catching and holding a lot of condensation, but I’m not judging it on that, it happens in any tent given the right conditions and with a tighter inner it’ll be better next time as well.
The TBS system was fine, only once did I stick an arm through the gap between cord and inner. I’m learning. The inner door is fine, a little smaller than a Laser door so I can catch a hip on it crawling in and out, but it’s better when you’re boiling the stove in the porch (which is a good size) as you’ve got more protection from the weather. The outer door has Velcro tabs, a two-way zip and a buckle at the bottom, all good stuff.
It’s early days and I haven’t even weighed it yet, I’ve ditched the skinny pegs that come with it and I’m using my own titanium nails/Y peg combo, but it does feel kinda right and I hope on the next few trips we’ll get to know each other much better.

Also in for test from Vango/F10 are the new version of a long standing favourite, the Ultralight Gas Stove and their wacky Windshield (see photie below). The stove update sees the loss of titanium adding so few grams I can’t tell the difference holding one in each hand but keeping the same brilliant performance. This big wide burner is magic, I’ve used it on half a dozen different stoves and it’s got to be the best out there, the folding legs work well and it’s compact enough to fold into my smallest EverNew pot.
The windshield might look a little gimmicky, but I instantly took to it. It folds up smaller that my old crinkled aluminium shield and is very stable, especially with the two integral pegs and a couple of spare tent pegs which I usually use with shields. When the wind catches it, the aluminium panels pivot silently where the roll-up type rattles around.  It gets warm, which should have been obvious… it’s easy to clean and it’s now standard kit, which I will weigh later when I report back on it. If it falls apart at the hinges I will be upset.

The Osprey Talon 44 was out and was stuffed on the walk in. It carries well when loaded, but it’s very busy and there’s a few niggles for me because of that which I’ll have to get past so I use it more to get a proper handle on it, because like I say, it takes a load very well.
I slept warmly on a Thermarest Neoair and OMM Duomat in a Hagöfs Goga 3S down bag. I wore Chocolate Fish Taranaki merino top and bottom, Fjallraven trousers and the fantastic Montane Slipstream GL windshirt. Camp wear was PHD down gear from head to, literally, toe. I was supposed to be on the summit, at 300m this stuff was pure luxury.
I wore Garmont suede and fabric boots with Brasher socks inside, Kahtoola aluminium crampons and was glad of both a CAMP Corsa Nanotech axe and Mountain King Harlequin Trail Blaze poles to keep upright. I ate Mountain House lasagne, Adamsons oatcakes and Kenco coffee all lit to perfection by Petzl.

Ah, there’s more, but we’ll get to that next time.

Joycee was away to see her pal’s comedy gig, so we dropped her off and me and the girl headed to the beach on our way back to a late night Spongebob marathon. My phone decided to make faded 1970′s prints instead of photies, we played until it was dark looking for clues hidden in the rocks or pawprints in the sand and then we had to run home through the woods shouting “Aaaaahhhhh!!!!!” because it was so cold.
I hope she remembers in ten years that we’re really best pals.

We crouched silently and the swan swam up to us, looked left and right like a model at the end of the catwalk, flicked its tail and then headed out into the river. Poser.

It was late when I left. I’d been packed for nearly two days, I was out of bed on time, I was ready. But then mother took a flyer in the Asda car park and it all went up in the air.
I took to saying “mother” years back, it might look a little twee, maybe even sound a little lame to some, but spoken in my accent it sounds like I’m addressing a commanding officer, so mother it is.
The x-rays were okay, a sprain which was all strapped up, go to the hills, I’ll be fine, Jimmy’s here.
I took to saying Jimmy years back, shouting “Dad” at work made me looking like Pike from Dad’s Army, so Jimmy it is.
Turns out after I got back, it was dislocated, I guess you should always x-ray from different angles in the first place.

My first stop was Pitlochry to nip into Escape Route for a gas can and grab some food from the local baker and deli. It’s not even half way and the day was grinding ever onwards. I should never plan for anything, I should just get out of my bed in the morning and see what happens.
The sun was bright, the sky was clear and snow was everywhere. It was a delight. The Cairngorms looked like a set of dining room chairs with a white blanket thrown over them. Come on north, where are you.

No delays on the Kessock Bridge this time, I can’t remember an easter with quieter roads. Ben Wyvis was shining white, a huge lump it is and An Teallach always looks like a glimpse of some greater range as it sits in the middle of your windscreen. The road in front of me was empty and I flew towards Ullapool. Early evenibg, I was a wee bit hungry with a few miles to cover on foot and some steep slopes to tackle with it.
The top of the climb over to Ardmair is a favourite spot, it’s where Ben More Coigach comes into view. For all its diminutive 743m height, it looks huge stretching straight from the sea. I turned into Blughasary and trundled through folks gardens to get to the little car park for the Postman’s Path, a route where I was planning to have some fun tomorrow. It’s a coastal route and was indeed used by  a postman to take the mail into Achiltibuie before there was a road. Not so long ago either.

I changed clothes and sorted out the last few bits and pieces for my rucksack. Where was my gas… rummage… rummage… It was on the counter in Escape Route. Northwest Outdoors would be shut by now, the garage in Ullapool? That would take time, I rummaged some more, two nearly empty cans in the boot. Not enough to keep melting snow, but enough to do me if I took plenty water to camp. With reluctance I packed my two extra water bottles and took the bridge over the River Runie to start the trail. It was cool, the sun was slipping down and I was changing my plan with every footstep.
It was very quiet, almost no wind and no bird song. When I left the river and started to climb around Meall nan Clachan is was actually a little eerie. The sky was turning pastel, the ground was growing indistinct without direct sunlight, dusk was here whether I liked it or not.

The track just stops dead I the middle of nowhere by a little two foot high stone built wind break. The loch was nearby, Ben More was up above, it was late, I needed my dinner. Mountains later, time to find somewhere to kip.
There’s a lot of bare rock here and inbetween is peat with jaggy heather sticking out of it. Still, got a spot a few feet from the loch and I pitched the unfamiliar tent pretty quickly for its first time out of the bag. I sorted my kit out with a triangle of sunset to the west. Maybe a little frustrating, but looking up there was no way I was anywhere near the summit before dark, I’d made the right call.
I took my cook kit and foodbag down to the lochside where the sandstone had been worn into the shape of an armchair. The loch was frozen hard save for a few small gaps near the rock where the sun had been and I felt the temperature fall as the darkness thickened and my pot came to the boil. Then my phone rang.
I sat in my own little pool of light in the darkness, watching ice form in the lid of my stove while I read Holly and her two cousins a bed time story over the phone.

It really was getting cold, the tent was frosted, my rucksack and boots too. The ground sparkled under my torchbeam and I crept into my sleeping bag. I lasted half an hour and then had to go out and see what was happening. The stars were out, not too bright, but there was a sky full of them. I had a play with camera and lights, but I was tired. Hot chocolate and bed.
It wasn’t the best nights sleep, but don’t know why, I was warm, there was no wind, just one of those things. Bugger.

I’d set my phone alarm and it was bright in the tent when it woke me, probably during the best bit of sleep I’d had too, bloody thing. Still, sunrise is where it’s at so I sat up, showering myself with frozen condensation, pulled on my down gear and crawled outside.
Not spectacular, just nice. The sun rose and the light spread down Ben More and caught the top of the tent. The frost clung on, there was no warmth in those rays yet. Porridge, a cuppa and a plan.
The Postman’s Path could wait, I’ll head up with a light pack and come back for lunch. I got my shit together and skipped away, in a manly fashion, into the sunshine.

The loch had re-frozen during the night, there was no open water at all and it was an inch thick at the edge. Winter’s grip isn’t getting cramp quite yet.
I started to get views south as I climbed, an alpine horizon with some of the newsworthy hill fires starting to show maybe? I certainly saw them on the way home, one was raging by Slocht Summit.
I’d forgotten my shades, they were in a poly bag of CD’s back at the motor. I spend the next few hours squinting from under the brim of my tartan cap. I was squinting at visions of joy though and hitting the ridge brought the first of many on this hill.
Bare pink sandstone littered with little boulders, fluff from the glacier’s pockets. It’s a wonderful place, it made me smile, you could say it’s a little other-worldly, but it feels too much like it was built by a primary school art project, it’s fun.
The peaks of Coigach, Inverpolly and Assynt rise into view to the north as well now. There’s nothing quite like it.

I couldn’t see much of the ridge or the summit from below, I knew there was some snow, but I did wonder about leaving my crampons behind to gain that extra tenth every lap. That would have been really stupid, the ridge narrows, the snow gets rock hard and then I was on an arête, treading carefully while squinting sideways at views that just made me want to sit down and breath out really slowly.
Ahead there was a plateau of white, the crags were buried in snow and as my points dug in in I was glad the sensible old head chose the packing list at camp.
Speicein Coinnich needed to be visited right now, not last night in a breathless scrabble with a full overnight pack, this way it was total and utter joy. It’s much airier than I expected too, aye, I haven’t been on here before. I’d been saving it for a perfect day and by leaving late I’d engineered just that by accident.
The views are beyond explaining or describing, the peaks are all there, but the tumbling land of the northwest that links them and the sea ahead of me, blue and infinite. I’ve said it before, but here the landscape is alive, the passage of time and the evolution of the earth laid out before you in motionless motion. You have to come here, touch the rock, you can feel a heartbeat.

The ridge is over a little too soon and a snow softened col is turned to reach the edge of the gully scarred slopes so well seen from the south. It’s deceptive though, the ridge slopes gently north into a plateau of sorts and rises to the other tops including the summit itself and the fine angular thrust of Sgurr an Fhidhleir. The snow was mostly solid and the going was good, my eyes watered at the blinding brightness as the wind tried to chill me, not knowing I was dressed for it. So many contrasts for so many senses, only smell felt left out, I fixed that by pulling out some Austrian smoked cheese. There, everyone was happy.

The summit looks out to sea and so did I. The wind was howling around me and the stone shelter was buried deep in snow, I waited as long as I could, as long as my fingers could stand it.
I took a swing north on my way back, found some snow to fall into up to my waist and looped back towards the col. There was a big long slope running northeast, doable I thought, and the snow was hard enough to make it enjoyable too. A descent by the buttresses overlooking Inverpolly, out of the wind and with crags to hide in at the bottom for a quick snack.

It was all over too soon, I was in the heather again, I was back on the sandstone slabs and I could see the tent far below. My face ached, the sun, the wind, the eternal grin. A short day with more mountain joy that I had in the whole of 2012. I’m glad I paid karma for this stuff in advance.

Back at base I had a cuppa and some noodles with oatcakes and a Cadbury’s Freddo. The ice on the loch sang and twanged and creaked at the sunlight stressed it. The figures on its surface were frozen in mid flight but might soon be free.

Coming home is a blur. I did stop at Ullapool for something else to eat, it took me a while to break camp and walk out, I was dragging my feet. The hill fires were burning all over and then I was looking at the Cairngorms directly ahead, exactly like a row of wedding cakes, thick with icing.
I always go west given a choice and for the first time I think I know why. I love the Cairngorms when I’m there, and even if it is epic in every way, the level height, the blankness of it today when I’d already seen geological chaos bordered by land and sea, it doesn’t call to me in the same way.
I’ll be on the A9 so much in the next couple of months, I hope I’ve got time to stop by and talk it over, my neglect makes me feel guilty at times.

I fuelled at Aviemore and headed home with all sorts of arseholes flying past on the wrong side of the road in expensive cars with snowboards on their roofracks trying to kill me and everyone else who was just trying to get home.
I didn’t care. I was floating, I wasn’t even tired, my head was full of the day and the night before it and it bubbled away like the dozens of newly hatched frogs I saw in a burn on the walk out. Crazy wee buggers.

#2 in an ongoing series of title explanations: Coigach means Fifth.

90g for a hooded windshirt with a big zipped pocket in size XL. Yes please.

I saw the Slipstream at the Montane showroom and was rather taken by it. The word is that’s store buyers had been less than enthusiastic about it because it looks like a gimp suit or a bin bag. Well, I’m happy to report that by using those two points of reference I’ve been overjoyed being dressed like a dirty deviant, this is the best wind shirt I’ve ever used.

This is an XL, but it wears and measures up as a Large compared to other Montane kit, so labelling rather than design going awry? Once over the shock of wearing an XL what I found was a neat fitting smock, good arm length and a good length at the tail. I’ve found that the tail stays down too, I haven’t been yanking it out of a bundle at the small of back, a combination of the smooth fabric and fit I’d say. The arms are neat enough with elastic ends, the elastic hidden inside Pertex cuffs, but I can get them over my elbows, just, so ventilation is fine. The long length means no gaps in the cold on foot or on a bike, even when stretching up on a scramble, the arm articulation is brilliant. The hem on the body has the same covered elastic as the cuffs, you get a neat fit but it’s still plenty stretchy enough, you don’t feel it’s there.

And now to the genius parts. There’s a chest pouch pocket which isn’t a kick in the arse away from A4 paper size and its mesh inner bag has some slack sewn into it so you can get a bunch of kit in there. The pocket is sewn in, it doesn’t hang like most smocks, this I like, less faff and more stable.
The reversed zip matches the main one which is a good length, getting as close to the pocket as it dares without making a weak spot in the construction. It’s a two-way zip, you can hide your chin from the wind while you open the bottom to let out steam or fumble in your undergarments. It’s backed by a stiff-ish tape anti-snag/wind baffle which is neatly sewn over at the top as a chin/nose guard. It all works perfectly

The hood is simple, or so it would seem. You’ve got a close fitting skull-cap affair with a soft lycra lining around the face hole. This gives a good fit without pressure on your skin, even with my melon head. The construction is also very clever, the neck has a little extra width to it meaning you can zip the Slipstream right up to your nose over other light layers with high collars without discomfort and it also means you can turn your head like an owl and your face stays aligned with it’s designated window of opportunity. Too flowery that bit maybe? What the hell.
You can also pull the hood up and down while its fully zipped, which is brilliant, the other day in Coigach I was doing just that every couple of minutes as I went from warm sun to icy blast as I wandered the ridge and plateau of Ben More.
I was worried that the small-ish lock-down style zip pulls would be too hard to work with gloves on, but they’re fine, and this type doesn’t flick up at your nose every time the breeze lifts, it was a good call.

The Pertex Quantum GL fabric is a 25gm² nylon joy. It looks crinkly, but it’s actually very soft and smooth with a fine ripstop grid to it. It hisses more that it rustles when you handle it. It holds the wind out as well as you’d expect, the layers you wear under it will decide how far you want to take it temperature wise, stick a base and a light mid in there and you’re good for some winter  fun. In the photies here all I’ve got under the Slipstream is 190 weight merino and that was good for hovering above and below 0°C, I was nicely comfy.
Breathability is excellent, especially over just a base layer, it’s a recipe for being dry. If the fabric does get wet, it dries fast and it’ll also repel a surprising amount of rain or snow before it wets out.
Durability is largely up to you and how you treat the fabric, I’ve found abrasion resistance is great, tear resistance not so much, but then is it expecting to be pulled over a barbed wire fence? Get a rucksack that fits and don’t leave it crunched into a corner of that same rucksack and you could be long term windproof friends.
Construction is good, the minimal seams are all very well finished internally to hide the stitching and prevent snagging and pulls. There’s night time friendly reflective detailing here and there, there’s a hang loop at the collar and it comes in a little bag with a hang loop and cinch cord so that every time you use it it feels like you’re opening a present.

The Slipstream GL is a brilliant bit of kit. Run, bike, walk, backpack, it’s fit for purpose. It weighs F/A, it’s comfortable to wear, the fabric is excellent and it’s been designed for humans to be active in. Something that’s not always guaranteed.
The Windshirt of Justice. Indeed.

There hasn’t been too much Vango or Force10 on here over the years, which is perhaps a little strange given that I can see their offices from my window. However, that’s now sorted, I was over at their place today to say hello, look at some kit and bring back some samples to review.

I was nearly away with Force10 Argon 200 above, but I’m needing a 1-person for the next couple of trips so I’ve got a Force10 Helium Carbon 100 instead. It’s a tent that ticks many boxes looking at it, so I’m optimistic that it’s a step forward from the older Helium. We’ll see shortly, I’m packing for Assynt tomorrow. 
I’ll come back to the Argon in a wee while, it looks good. Light fabrics, a strong, hubbed 3-pole design and lots of room inside with a porch to match it.

There’s a whole bunch of varied stuff on the way, both Vango and F10 seem to be picking up the pace which is nice to see. Another thing that caught my eye were the new dry packs which come in various sizes with the Dry 20 is below. It’s a neat design, looks about perfect for commuters as well as outdoor folks who want dry kit at the end of the day. Ice axes and poles are welcome here and the harness is properly done, no tokenistic affair.

More to come as I use it, as well as the Helium I’ve got a pack and some other bits and pieces to get to grips with. And a lot of it is bright orange. Alright!

The first big smiles of the day not brought about by the scenery were on Rannoch when a some dick decided to overtake two trucks speedily and erratically while being filmed by the traffic safety van the whole time. The truck drivers grinned, we grinned, the car driver shrunk in his seat. Then I went back to taking photies of the Black Mount.

They’ve put a sign up telling folk to put their lens cap back on and not to inflict another picture of the Buachaille on the world.

My new role as Scientific Advisor (or something like that anyway) in Joycee’s business brings me much joy, she’s running projects near to home which is great and now she’s got stuff all over Scotland which is brilliant if logistically more challenging. We took this trip to visit some sites and sort out what to take and when to take it to save grief later, as much fun as the road is, fuel costs destroy you.
In years past working in the Highlands or on an island I’d be in a B&B or a cheap hotel, sometime for months on end with some weekends home, that’s not happening these days with a 5 year old to read bed time stories to. The same reason I’ll never be away in a tent for more than a couple of nights these days, choose between sitting in a tent or watching my daughter grow up or collapsing on the couch with the misses at the end of the day? Not a hard call to make.
The first stop was Glen Coe for lunch and then onto Fort William to look at the site and meet the folks we’ll be working with. While right above us a snow capped and sun splattered Ben Nevis loomed happily.

The next two sites were just a few miles apart from each other, but very far away from us, Scotland is bigger than you might think. Driving the Great Glen was a joy, it really was a glorious day, and even the Kessock Bridge roadworks couldn’t dampen our enthusiasm.
The Black Isle, Dornoch Firth, then Helmsdale, Golspie and a string of signposts that I haven’t read for a few years. What a wonderful road, what a long road too. It got dark and the rigs out at sea sparkled on the horizon, Wick was a welcome sight where we filled the tank and checked the map. Dunnet wasn’t too far away, we’d go cross country.

Dinner by an open fire, Family Guy on the telly and the usual mixed results of sleeping in “someone else’s bed”. Joycee went out like someone had pulled out her batteries. How I envy that skill.
The morning brought sun, freezing temperatures and snow. It was fantastic. The sites are great, nice folk too, plans were made, dates were set and we’ll be back soon. We then found ourselves with half a day to kill. We could make a run for home or fanny about up here? Haggis for lunch at John O’Groats it was.

The fella who runs the tourist office turned out to be a great contact which will make our returns visits easier and he also gave us some good pointers for a walk. When a local says come off the path and go this way it’s worth the effort, he was right too, we explored around Duncansby Head.
What a place this is, it’s been far too long since we were up here. Scotland is an outdoor country and the mountains really are such a small part of that.
We had to leave, we were very far from home, Stroma, Orkney so close, so much to see and do up here.

The road was a joy and the weather played its part. We diverted to Balintore to see the mermaid, which everyone should do. She’s sitting sunning herself on a rock on the beach and it’s just brilliant, Holly will love it, the photies just won’t be enough, she’ll be coming with us on one of the return trips.
Snow showers had been drifting around all day and one was set ablaze by the setting sun as we got closer to Inverness, which this time was pretty free of traffic, it really was getting late in the day.
Dinner was in Aviemore as the snowfall swirled around through the window. We we warm inside and maybe just a little more tired that we’d have liked. Not too far now.

Astral Projection: visiting projects in a Vauxhall Astra.

I was down at The North Face this week to have a look at some of the new kit which I’ll talk about soon, but first here’s a wee look at something especially interesting.

Thermoball insulation is a new development from synthetic kings Primaloft along with The North Face and the brand will have exclusive use of the technology for the next three years. The short version is that that they’ve tried to create a synthetic down of sorts, and as you can see from the clump of synthetic fibre clusters I’m holding above it’s certainly looking more like down clusters than the blanket of fine fibres we’re used to seeing, or feeling I should say, in our jackets.
The aim is to try and bridge the gap between the compressibility and warmth of down and the weather resistance and quick drying of synthetic, which is pretty much the holy grail of insulation.  A clump of the stuff in your hand feels warm and I could compress it flat, I asked about durability from frequent compression and they word is that life expectancy is the same as regular Primaloft, which means it can be up to you how long it lasts; storage, packing and use being the deciding factors there. The insulation quality is rated as the same as 600-fill goose down.

There’s been some trials and experiments with how to best use the Thermoball,  such as different fill weights and baffle designs which will continue, but for the moment micro baffling like we’ve been used to seeing on lightweight down gear in recent years is giving the best results.
The Thermoball Hoodie will be out this autumn and there’s a hoodless jacket and matching woman’s equivalents. The design is simple, a nonadjustable close fitting hood, two handwarmer pockets (one with a double zip that the whole jacket folds into), lycra cuffs and an adjustable hem with the cord ends in the pockets. The cut is neat but not tight, the arms are a good length and tail has a very slight scoop.
The fabric is The North Face’s own recycled 20D lightweight nylon which has a nice feel to it and certainly helps with reducing packed bulk.

The size medium below comes in at 364g for this preproduction sample and I’ll be testing it over the next few months to see what the story is with Powerball. I’ve used Primaloft and micro-baffled down enough over the years to know what to expect, or do I? This might be something different altogether, time will tell.
The insulation value of the hoodie is better suited for spring to autumn, which is why the hoodie isn’t part of the range-topping Summit series, but the neat cut means it’ll work well with a down vest worn over it on colder camps, something that’s always been a favourite for me.
Nice to have something properly new to talk about. More later.

In saying that, I’ve had Polartec’s new Alpha technology on test for the past few months as well, more on that soon too.

I’m burst.

I went to see Ghost last night at the Glasgow O2 which was a good choice. Gojira who were on before them had a some decent bits and pieces going on, but a terrible sound and the need to put blastbeats into songs that had no need for them had me looking at my watch and around at the crowd who were largely young folk standing around a 2/3 full venue. Status Quo filled it two nights in a row ten days ago, the old folk win.
Ghost were awesome frankly, I was worried about the sound, but for them it was loud and pretty clear. The band are so damned tight, heaviness coated in hymn-like melodic vocals. The presentation is outstanding, with an old school stage show (and incense burners…) and a band made annonymous by cowls and masks. Not dull to watch at all, you can see personalities emerging as they play which was interesting, and Papa Emeritus II on vocals is just genius.
A unique band and an unforgettable experience. So many of the young folk in the crown didn’t get it. I like that, as you get older you worry that you get all mainstream without noticing. It’s not happening here yet.

I’d met up with two of my buddies and after getting them home, then me home and showered, I had hours enough left for sleep that I could count on one hand.
I was so worried that I’d sleep in I woke up before my alarm and stuck the kettle on far too far before six. Then I hit the road for the Lakes.
I got to Staveley half an hour early, that’s including a stop on the way for a cuppa and a roll on bacon. I’m never early for anything, I was scared. However, the girls of The North Face were ready and we had a fine time fannying around with gear stuff which I’ll have up shortly, including some rather nice new Primaloft fill that thinks it’s down. Interesting. I have a hoody full of it on test, more soon.
I could have made a dash north, but I swung by Inov8 to say hello and as it turned out my timing was good, so I spend the rest of the day looking over their new clothing, shoes and scarily light packs. I raised eyebrows, enthused and took photies. More on that soon also.

I got as far as Annandale services on the way back and had to stop for a cuppa. I’ve had a cold for days and the snotters were blinding me, what’s new, and even the voices in my head were slurred I was so tired.
I got home in the dark, caught the wee yin before she went to bed now I’ve got a second wind. Too tired to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be interesting.

I picked this bright pair for test at a trade do last year and since then the Icebreaker Beast range has disappeared. The boxers have an identical equivalent in the Anatomica Boxers, but you can take your pick of equivalent t-shirts, just look for the Bodyfit tag with 150 weight fabric.

The Beast range was more fancy underwear than baselayer, but that was maybe as much down to the packaging than any design elements. Basically, we’ve just got a t-shirt and boxers made from a very light 150gsm merino fabric.
The fabric is very nice to wear, soft and very stretchy indeed, these sample large’s could have done with being a medium. The lightness means less insulation and quicker drying which is great for warmer weather, but less merino superpowers when it comes to long-term stink destruction.
The fit of the t-shirt is square, casual style as fits its job description, which is probably right as I’ve torn the fabric a couple of times when it’s caught on a buckle or trouser popper when I’ve been stretching. It is a little fragile for regular outdoor use.
The styling is nice, I like the contrast stitching on the flatlock seams, some seams are regular-style, but they’re all equally soft and there’s no rub points that I’ve found. The boxers have some nice touches, the elastic waistband is wide and comfortable and the front has a little pouch for your kit to fit into, and it’s also biased to the left which may or may not suit you.
The legs are a little short for me for outdoor use, but have been great under jeans and the like.

The Beasts are comfortable to wear and nicely put together, the fabric is lovely against the skin and performs well, but the fragility of it and the styling do make these a better choice for casual and travel use.

I think Yahoo mail is taking the piss. I suppose it could be something to do with accessing it regularly on my phone these days and giving it mixed messages regarding our relationship, but it’s taken matters into its own hands too many times for me to really trust it now. It’s randomly deleting emails.
I thought I was getting sloppy at first, relocating mail into random folders, but then when I couldn’t find it in a search, I got suspicious. One morning I got two important work emails, by lunchtime they were gone forever and I had to reply to them from memory. Which can either be pin sharp or like a bag of lego emptied onto a 70′s patterned curtain depending on my mood.
I changed my password in case I had a phantom evil twin toying with my mind, hoping to push me over the edge. Stupid bastard, doesn’t he know how close I am anyway? But it still kept happening, there was one about merino beanies that I wanted to deal with when I went home and by the time I got there it was gone.
I was presented with the theory that if I delete say, four emails on my phone, Yahoo takes those four deletes and decides what to do with them later, a bit like a child who spends their dinner money at the arcade instead of school dinners.
I dunno, is Yahoo that clever? I’ve read some of their reporting, so unlikely.
I’ve got a google mail account, but I don’t like it as it’s so damned po-faced looking, plus the fact that google are fascists, so I don’t want to use that as my #1. So I’m stuck with it, and folks seem to accept I’m pish at comms anyway, so I dare say no one is any the wiser.
The Erskine Bridge expressed no opinion when we visited it last week. I took some photies while Joycee ate a plate of mince and tatties in the car and Holly made chocolate crispies in the church hall round the corner.