Gear

I once spent forty minutes in a freezing downpour on a ridge in the Cairngorms, trying to stem a bleed from a client’s leg using …

I remember a Tuesday in the Cairngorms, about six years ago, sitting in a sodden tent while the wind tried to peel the flysheet off. …

I once spent four hours in a freezing downpour on the Cuillin ridge, trying to squeeze a frozen, half-empty hydration bladder through a tiny straw …

I once watched a group of walkers, all well-equipped with expensive shells and proper boots, nearly walk right off a scree slope because they were …

I remember a Tuesday in late November, somewhere on the edge of the Cairngorms, when a client’s “waterproof” gaiters decided they weren’t actually waterproof. We …

I remember a Tuesday in the Cairngorms, three years ago, when a group I was leading found themselves huddled under a single, inadequate tarp because …

I once watched a group of otherwise capable walkers sit huddled on a scree slope in the Cairngorms, staring at their hands with a look …

I was standing on a scree slope in the Cairngorms, three hours behind schedule and watching a bruised purple sky swallow the last of the …

I once spent four hours huddled under a granite overhang in the Cairngorms, watching a group of very expensive, very optimistic hikers shiver uncontrollably because …