Camping

I remember sitting in a damp bivvy bag in the Cairngorms, listening to the wind tear at the flysheet and realizing that my “lightweight” setup …

I once spent three hours in a damp valley near the Cairngorms, listening to the rhythmic, heavy tearing of nylon, only to realize a badger …

I’ve spent twenty-two years watching people mistake “wild” for “careless,” and nothing irritates me more than seeing a scorched patch of earth left behind because …

I remember a group in the Cairngorms back in 2014—mist rolling in thick as wool, visibility dropping to five meters, and the group leader staring …

I was halfway through a frozen granola bar in the Cairngorms, listening to the rhythmic thwack-thwack of my client’s head hitting the tent pole every …

I remember sitting in a damp tent in the Cairngorms three years ago, watching a group of hikers stare despondently at a dead GPS unit …

I’ve spent more than a decade watching the weather turn on a dime, usually while standing on a ridge with a group of people who …

I remember a night in the Cairngorms, about ten years ago, where the wind wasn’t just blowing; it was screaming through the heather. I was …

I remember standing in a sodden, wind-whipped glen in the Cairngorms three years ago, trying to pitch a tent while a group of hikers twenty …