I CAN’TREMEMBER the exact first time I went camping. It was
either as a Cub Scoutor with my dad, and bothwould have involved
travel by Transit vanand cookingsausages in tin foil over an open
fire. Enoughyears later forthose memories to qualifyas vintage,
I still find the same excitement in packing fora trip and tracing
contours on well-worn paper maps withmy index finger thinking,
“Oh aye, I could pitch there, I’ll pass running water on the way...”
at’ll be a familiarscenario for manyof us, and there’san
importantpointto note: it’sthe almost default solo approach.
Many of my trips in the past ten or fieen years have been solo,
and I think I’m preconditionednow to plan my time, distance and
kit withthat mindset.
As much as I enjoy solo trips, especially not worryingaboutgoing
too slow and annoying my companions as I constantly stop to take
photos allday, I think I’ve been missing thepositives of having a
friend along. I’ve just had a reminder ofwhy.
PLANNING TOPERFECTION
My friend Greg has reallytaken to the outdoorsthese past few
years. With the Kilpatrick Hills at his back door and the Southern
Highlands just a shortspin up the A82, he’soen given me pangs
of jealousy with postson socialmedia whilst I was stuck elsewhere
or indoors.
e naturalnext step was to introduce him to winter on the
Munros. I have plentyspare kit and, as he comes from a background
of parkour and gym training I wasn’tworried about his application
to the task. However, lockdown had other ideas and we failedto
get away.
“We’ll makeup for it,”I said. “We’ll do something else when
[previous spread]Chasing the fading light below Beinn Narnain with Greg's
eyes on the prize ahead[aboveleft from top] The first steps, feeling that
unfamiliar pack weight; Catching our breath in the shade as Ben Lomond
still basks [above] Take a friend, and you will talk about these moments
forever[right] A rest, a drink and some laughs as we lost the lightthings get better.How about ahigh camp?”
is suggestionwent down well.Itturns out Greg hadn’tever
been camping. Learning thatinnocuous factwas like a cartoon
lamp lighting over myhead. I suddenly had more questions than
answers: where would we go,what willhe need, will my tents have
been chewedthrough by moths in lockdown?
at wee rush of excitement was different from what I feel when
I know I’m going on my own. I was thinking differently, going back
down to basics – and notjust by puttinga kit list together. I had
to tryto think of everything we should know before we went, all
the things I do that have becomesecond nature, things I take for
granted. I knew mylegs had gotten a little so in lockdown, but it
was my brain thatwas getting a mountain workoutfirst.
Once the decision wasmade and Greg had bookedsome annual
leave, the toing and froing of messages started in earnest. Gear was
the first thing to deal with asthere would likely be someshopping
to be done.I could lend mostof the stuff and I explained the kit
choices to make sure Greg was okay with myideas, but I found
it was helping me as much as him. ere’sa lot of habit in what I44 The Great OutdoorsAugust 2021