The night the Bothy burned
As soon as I said it, I felt the atmosphere change. It had been warm and cosy in the little Bothy, and the
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A Ridge Too Far
It went dark a long, long time ago and we are still walking. My boots are full of water, the result of sinking
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Requiem in Sutherland
Across the rolling moorland, close to horizon, runs a thin man made line. On this narrow strip of tarmac, sits my car, a
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Can you outrun a wildfire?
I am following a small path, and reach a point where the glen steepens and narrows. Soon the glen is reduced to steep
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The Light’s Fantastic
‘Where the hell is it?’ I probe the darkness with the fading beam of my head torch searching for the bothy. In the dwindling
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Fire and Men
It’s dark and raining heavily now. The bothy fire smokes for a few minutes, coughs, splutters and then dies. Charlie, my walking companion
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The Gravity Trap
Normally, when I’m out in the hills, I don’t worry too much about what the ground beneath my feet feels like. The earth
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Small Things
We spend our time in the hills gazing across huge vistas, wondering at the enormity of the hills around us, staring across
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station at the end of the universe
I have finished my book. The Last Hillwalker is now looking for a publisher. Now I can blog again! I’ve loads to tell
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