author, mountaineering writer – books, blog, opinion
Back in 2017 when Edita and I cycled the NC500, there wasn’t much information available and almost all of it was aimed at people with a vehicle. Imagine my delight when I was contacted by Cicerone’s marketing team asking me if I’d like them to send me a copy of their new guidebook.
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The weather had been good for the best part of two weeks, but the rain gods were preparing for the last dance. We were about to cross the Spasimata Slabs, the most dangerously exposed section of the trek, and we were going to cross them at the worst possible time.
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I’ve known about the GR20 for over 20 years, but it slipped to the back of my mind as I focused on peak bagging in the greater ranges. I sensed that long-distance hiking in Europe was something I would enjoy later in life. I guessed I must have reached that stage now.
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We decided to continue our Cuillin reconnaissance. But what to reconnoitre? Our guide Karl suggested climbing the Dubh Slabs and staying overnight at Camasunary. I’d known about the Slabs for years, but never imagined I would ever climb them myself
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It was time for another Cuillin reconnaissance, and there was one section of tricky scrambling that we hadn’t done: an unavoidable obstacle in the form of the four summits of Sgurr a Mhadaidh. I was keen to complete this section before committing to a full traverse of the ridge.
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As we drove back to the Cotswolds earlier this month, Peter Gabriel’s 1977 hit Solsbury Hill popped up on the car stereo, which prompted Edita to remark: “Is Solsbury Hill a real place? If it is then we should climb it.” So we did.
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The Nantlle Ridge in Snowdonia National Park, North Wales, is one of those classic mountain scrambles that has been lurking on my list for many years. Its 9km contained the right sort of terrain: narrow ridge walking interspersed with some short easy scrambles.
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Plynlimon, is a complex mountain of multiple rolling summits connected by broad ridges. It is the source of Britain’s longest river, the Severn, and its fourth longest, the River Wye. I have been meaning to climb it for many years, and over Easter I had my chance.
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We’d hired a mountain guide to do the Cuillin traverse, a 12km ridge on Scotland’s Isle of Skye, which takes in 11 Munros and many subsidiary peaks. But with injuries in both legs and a knee that couldn’t bend more than 90 degrees it seemed inconceivable for me.
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I was lucky to live and work for a year in Rome, where the highest peaks of the Apennines were accessible within a couple of hours. It was a hill walker’s paradise, with a feast of mountains of great variety,
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