My Hiking & Backpacking Books

New edition packed with photos never published before.

It's the time of year for my annual book promotion. If you're looking for a book about hiking or backpacking as a present for someone or even yourself I've written a few that might be of interest including stories of long walks and guidebooks.

Stories of two very different long-distance walks just four years apart, one in the deserts of the SW USA, the other in the definitely not desert Scottish Highlands.

If you've already enjoyed any of my books please tell others and post comments and reviews on social media and online bookshops. Even a simple 'like' helps. For writers this makes a huge difference. Word of mouth and personal recommendations are invaluable.

A collection of essays on a variety of outdoor topics, a guide to a favourite area of the Scottish Highlands, and the story of a long and tough walk along the watershed of Scotland.

Advice, skills, gear, suggestions.

A detailed guide to the Scottish hills & the story of my Pacific Crest Trail hike.

If you buy from these Amazon links I receive 2-5% commission. Every click helps too!

Thank you if you do purchase something or click on one of the links.

High Summer

Crossing Arizona

The Munros & Tops (Kindle Edition) 

Out There 

Walking in Torridon 

Along the Divide

The Backpacker's Handbook 

Scotland 

Rattlesnakes and Bald Eagles (Kindle Edition) 

A Look At The January Issue of TGO

The January TGO has a tribute to TGO's founding editor, Roger Smith, who sadly died recently. Roger was also one of the creators and for many years the co-ordinator of the TGO Challenge. I think it is fair to say that both the magazine and the event may well not exist without all the work and effort Roger put into them. 

Unsurprisingly this issue has a wintry theme. The opening spread is a dramatic image of climbers on Am Basteir on the Cuillin Ridge in winter by Hamish Frost. 

There's a big feature called The Power Of Cold in which various outdoors people who love winter and snow are interviewed. I'm one of them, talking about winter camping along with David Lintern, a section illustrated with four of my snow camping photos. The whole feature starts with a double-page spread of another of my winter camp photos, taken on a memorable dawn after a bitter January night. In the same pages Gilly McArthur describes the joy of cold water swimming illustrated with shiver-making photos including plunge holes in ice (not something for me!) and Carla Khouri and Alice Kerr discuss becoming devoted winter walkers. There's advice for coping with the cold from Mountain Leader Jenny Bushell too.

The wintry theme continues with the story of a winter Wainwrights round by fellwalkers David Johnson and Nicky Oliver (and Floki the dog), and an account of snowshoeing in the Austrian Tyrol by Alex Roddie, along with advice on learning how to snowshoe.

Away from winter Adam Weymouth writes about his walk retracing the 1000-mile migration of a lone wolf across Europe, as told in his book Lone Wolf: Walking the Faultlines of Europe, which I am looking forward to reading. 

In The Long Review section of the gear pages I write about my now old and well-worn Paramo Aspira Jacket and Fuera Smock and how I care for them. In individual reviews Francesca Donovan tries the Finisterre Iris 1.2mm Yulex swimsuit and David Lintern the Durston X Dome 1+ tent. In comparative reviews Lara Dunn and Peter Macfarlane each try two pairs of gloves suitable for winter, James Roddie tests six head torches, and Lara Dunn relaxes in a couple of camping chairs.

In shorter pieces Nadia Shaikh looks for winter bird flocks, Francesca Donovan reviews a new film from the Save Windermere campaign called Origin: Finding The Source of Windermere, cancer survivor Marisa Wray talks about the mental and physical benefits of wild swimming, Jim Perrin pens a paean to Holyhead Mountain, and Juls Stodel advises a lonely camper. There's also information on The Great Outdoors Awards 2026.

Wild Walks looks at peak-to-pub winter walks. James Roddie takes a there-and-back trip from the Sligachan Hotel to Bruach na Frithe on the Cuillin Ridge, Vivienne Crow does a circular trip from the Shepherds Inn over Fiend's Fell in the North Pennines, James Forrest goes up Helm Crag from Tweedies Bar in Grasmere in the Lake District, also in the Lakes Norman Hadley traverses Ill Bell from the Mortal Man in Troutbeck, back in the North Pennines Ian Battersby ascends Scargill High Moor from The Ancient Unicorn in Bowes, a bit further south in the Yorkshire Dales Francesca Donovan makes a circuit of Middleton Fell from Barbon Inn, and down in Eryri/Snowdonia Andrew Galloway climbs Yr Wyddfa from the Cwellyn Arms in Ryhd-Ddu.

Hilleberg Soulo - a good solo tent for the winter

Winter having arrived in the Scottish Highlands I retrieved my Hilleberg Soulo tent from the shelf where it's been hiding since spring as I expect to be using it soon. Just in case it was missing pegs or there was a repair I'd forgotten to do I thought I'd better pitch it and check it over. And as I was doing that I thought I'd make a little video.

The Soulo doesn't get a great deal of use as it's quite heavy - if the weather looks benign I use a lighter tent - but there have been times when I've been very glad of its strength. In particular I take it when snow is forecast as I learnt early on how well it stands up to a heavy fall.

A buried Soulo. This was a test to see what happened if it was totally covered in thick snow. When I dug it out it was fine. If I'd been sleeping in it I would have cleared the doorway a few times during the night and knocked snow off the roof.

Sometimes the snow doesn't come, sometimes the winds are so strong up high that I end up camping in the forest when that's an option. Wherever, the Soulo works well.

What I like about the Soulo is it's easy to pitch even with gloves, has ample room inside (at least for someone 5 foot 8 inches/ 172 cms), and, most of all, feels secure in a storm.

Here's some more pictures of the Soulo in use over the years.

November Sunset in the Cairngorms

Cairn Toul & the Lairig Ghru just before sunset

One of the big advantages of the winter months in the Scottish Highlands is that sunset is in the middle of the afternoon not the middle of the night. I took advantage of this late in November when the forecast suggested clear calm weather. Just right for watching the light and descending in the dusk.

At the start of the walk, looking towards Cairn Gorm

My plan was to climb to the Cairngorm Plateau. However I made a mistake just before I set off. I left my snowshoes in the car. There wasn’t much snow visible at the start of my walk so I decided I didn’t want to carry them. Soon the snow became deeper and walking more difficult. I’d come just far enough that I didn’t think it worth going back for them. It would have been.

Enough people had been along the route to punch holes in the snow but not enough to create a trench. Some of the holes were knee deep. I stepped in and out of them. Laborious but easier than breaking my own trail. Sometimes shallow boot prints collapsed under my weight. I lurched slowly upwards.

Cairn Lochan

A couple passed me descending then a lone walker. This turned out to be Dan Bailey of UKHillwalking and we spent a pleasant few minutes discussing the snow (should have brought snowshoes we agreed), the weather, gear, the state of outdoor publishing, and more. Dan said he had a down jacket to test but it was too warm in the sun to try it.

Last sun on Creag an Leth-choin

I was in the shade as I headed up and it was well below freezing. However as soon as I reached the large flat area of the Miadan Creag an Leth-choin the sun reached me. It certainly was too warm for a down jacket. Indeed, I took my gloves off, unzipped the top of my Paramo jacket and sat on my pack while I had a snack and a hot drink and admired the snow and the view.

The sun about to set over Braeriach

The very best views here are on the edge of the steep slopes leading down into the Lairig Ghru pass so I left the boot holes that marked the path and headed that way. My admiration for whoever had broken the first holes soared. Plunging through the snow was incredibly arduous and the two hundred metres or so I walked seemed endless. I wished I’d brought those snowshoes!

Sunset sky over Sgor Gaoith & Sgoran Dubh Mor

Every step was worthwhile though. The view up and down the Lairig was magnificent. The sun was close to setting behind Braeriach and the light made the landscape glow. Orange and red crept across the sky as the vanishing sun lit up thin bands of cloud out to the west.

Last sun on Cairn Gorm

As the brightness faded from the mountains they suddenly looked cold, the pink tinge on the snow turning blue. Just the summits and then just the sky kept the warm colours.

The dusk darkens over Cairn Gorm

I set off back down, admiring the snow-plastered cliffs of Cairn Lochan. A crescent moon appeared in the sky. It had been a good day. Even without snowshoes.

Moon rise

Cairn Lochan

I made a little video while I was up there.

 

The First (Mini) Ski Tour Of The Winter

Good to be on skis again

Another night and day of snow showers and the mid-November snow looked deep enough for the skis. It's been a few years since I could ski from the garden gate at this time of year. The sky was overcast and dark with layers of thick clouds. A cold NW wind blew.

View to Ben Rinnes

The snow was soft. Pushing through it the skis didn't glide much but it was still much easier sliding than walking. Returning home I followed my tracks and was able to enjoy the sensation of slipping effortlessly over the snow.

View to Meall a' Bhuachaille

Distant views were hazy. Flat light, the sky and the snow similar shades, a slight air of unreality to the landscape. Silence except for the swishing of my skis.

Feeding ground

Whilst the snow creates a wonderland for skiers and walkers it's hard on animals and birds, especially those reliant on plants. The first day I'd been out in the snow there were just a few fox and deer tracks. Nothing moved. Today, the third day with lying snow, I saw one rabbit just briefly, before it popped back into its burrow, and two buzzards circling high above. Creatures had been active though as there were several areas where rabbits and deer had scraped away the snow in search of frozen nourishment.

Towards the Cairngorms

I looked over dark forests, much of the snow blown off the branches by the wind, to hints of the distant Cairngorms, edges of darker grey that might be mountains. Retreating from the wind blowing up strong and cold from the valley below I took shelter behind a grove of birch and aspen. Not far away was a favourite tree, an ancient battered goat willow.

The old goat willow

Out of the worst of the wind I made a little video.

I returned across the fields as the wind strengthened. Only a little trip but it felt so good to be out in the snow on skis again.

Old gateposts framing a distant Ben Rinnes

The following day a slow thaw started and the first post of the week arrived, the postie having made it up the track, though he did say only just up the steepest bit. The book was the new edition of the Scottish Mountaineering Club's Ski Mountaineering in Scotland. It looks glorious, full of mouth-watering pictures. I hope I'll be some of the easier routes in the months to come (the harder ones I couldn't have done when my skiing was at my best and certainly wouldn't attempt now - of course I am always on Nordic skis and the book is really for Alpine tourers).

First Snow of the Winter

 

The snow started falling yesterday afternoon, big wet flakes drifting down from the dark grey sky. Today I woke to a changed world, a white landscape, the first snow of the winter. Until now November has been mild rather than wintry. Snow usually arrives earlier than the middle of the month, often in October. It's late this year.

The snow was soft and deep out in the open, making walking hard work. In the trees it was just a thin layer, most of it on the branches rather than the ground. Not quite enough snow for skis but snowshoes would have made the going easier. I wasn't in a hurry anyway. I wasn't going anywhere, I was just out here to enjoy the changed landscape, admire the snowy trees, feel the bite of the wind, the wet touch of the occasional flurry of snow, experience this first taste of winter.

The sky was a mass of layered clouds in different shades. Patches of blue burst out at times, then golden touches from the low sun. In the distance the hills were hidden, draped in greyness. 

The conifers - pine, larch, spruce - looked heavy and big, muscular even, their limbs enlarged by the snow. The birches however looked even more delicate than ever, the snow forming an elegant fragile tracery on their twigs. 

A few snow showers swept over me, the northerly wind increased. As the light faded I headed for home and a warming mug of hot chocolate.

I made a little video of the walk.

Book Review: Everest The Hard Way by Chris Bonington

 

Fifty years ago Chris Bonington led the first expedition to climb the South West Face of Everest, a phenomenal achievement. A year later he published his account of the ascent, also a phenomenal achievement, given the time scale. I'm in awe of the skill and commitment needed on the mountain - I've done just enough low level snow and ice climbing to have at least a bit of a grasp of what's involved - and as a writer myself impressed at Bonington's ability to produce such a good book so quickly.

I first read Everest The Hard Way in 1977. I still have the copy I bought - it's pictured above - but I hadn't looked at it in many years. Back then I hadn't done any mountaineering at all and was still a fairly inexperienced backpacker. The world of Himalayan climbing seemed incredible. I marvelled at the dangers, effort, and sheer determination involved. I couldn't imagine how anyone did this.

Reading the anniversary edition of the book - a fine hardback - I'm also impressed at the complex organisation needed for the expedition to succeed, in itself a phenomenal achievement by Chris Bonington. So much planning, so many decisions, so much to keep track of, so much to co-ordinate. The section on this in the appendices is just mind-blowing! Detailed formulas for loads and rest rates, charts for movement on the mountain, and more. An incredible amount of work.

Back in 1977 I read the book as a gripping adventure story. I suspect the organisational side went over my head - I wanted to know about the actual climbing, the excitement, the danger, the camping, the near misses, the disasters. And that is still the heart of the book and thrillingly told. Now though I can admire the writing skill as well, the way Bonington tells the story, the way he weaves in excerpts from the diaries and writings of members of the team, including criticism of himself at times, and makes the book about them all. 

This is a mountaineering classic about one of the most significant ascents in climbing history. I'm glad I've read it again and I certainly recommend it to anyone interested in excellent outdoor literature.

Everest The Hard Way (50th Anniversary Edition)