Very best wishes to everyone for 2010. I hope it is a glorious year for you and I hope the world will appear to be a brighter place at the start of a new decade. I hope that politicians and bankers in particular will take a long hard look at themselves and dislike intensely what they see. May their resolutions be to change for the better, to be more trustworthy and less greedy.

More importantly I hope that 2010 brings a realisation to all of our politicians that our wild places are invaluable and that their destruction will have untold consequences for all of us. I also hope they all read John Etherington’s book, The Windfarm Scam, and begin to have a rather more realistic awareness of what wind turbines can and cannot do.

Finally, may you all enjoy what wild places we have left. Look after them, nourish them with your love and, in turn, be nourished by them. The power of such places to transform, to heal and to regenerate is without equal. And remember the words of Edward Abbey: “The existence of wilderness should be seen as a compliment to civilisation, something that complements society. Any society that feels itself too poor to afford the preservation of wilderness, or lacks the desire to preserve wilderness, is simply not worthy of the name of civilisation.”

Just back from a little two-day backpacking trip in which I experienced the coldest camp I’ve ever had in this country. But it was spectacular!

Every year at this time my wife drops me off in Glenmore and I walk back to Newtonmore using a little network of footpaths, forest tracks and trails. This year my brother in law Raymond Bainbridge volunteered to join me - he’ll be joining my wife and myself on next year’s TGO Challenge. What I didn’t know was that Raymond had never camped in winter before. Boy, was he in for a baptism of ice!

We left a snow smothered Glenmore in temperatures of around -5C. We had decided to use snowshoes. Under cloudless blue skies we made our way past Loch Morlich, through Rothiemurchus to Loch an Eilean where we took the narrow trail to Inshriach Bothy. The snow on the trees was so heavy that many of the birches and pines were bent double - which made it quite difficult for us to get through.

We stopped for a few minutes at Inshriach and by the time we left it felt as though the temperature had plummeted. The sun had gone down by now and as we snowshoed through Inshriach Forest towards Feshiebridge it became dark, although out way was lit by the light of the half-moon. It was superb, very atmospheric and almost surreal.

We camped between Feshiebridge and Ballintean. We stamped platforms down on the deep snow and had a pretty good camp. A little burn ran past so we didn’t have to melt snow for drinks. During the night the temperature dropped to about -15C, although I stayed pretty comfortable in my litle Hilleberg Akto. I was testing a new sleeping bag and stove and one or two other bits and pieces that I’ll be reviewing later in TGO but everything worked pretty well.

Cloud covered the sky come morning so the temperatures weren’t quite as low but it was still sub-freezing - enough to get us up and away quite sharp on our way via Insh, Inveruglas and Drumguish to Kingussie and Newtonmore. A great trip using snow shoes to negotiate the deep snow. May these conditions prevail just a bit longer… The only place I’ve had a colder camp was on Baffin Island!

The next couple of days are going to be frantic with family commitments - I have two little granddaughters who deserve some extra attention at this time of the year and I’m not too sure what road travel will be like - we have about a foot of snow here in Newtonmore in the Scottish Highlands and it looks absolutely superb, particularly with the Christmas lights in the houses adding a festive atmosphere to it all.

I’m hoping the conditions stay like this for a bit - I’m planning a two-day backpacking trip on Saturday and Sunday along a route that I take every year at this time. The past two years have been glorious with clear skies, a big moon to give enough light to walk by and sub-freezing temperatures - ideal backpacking conditions. It’s a great time of the year to escape from the Christmas festivities and prepare for the next bout of festivities next week!

On that note can I take the opportunity of wishing all of you a very Merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year. In many, many ways we live in dark and depressing times but the great outdoors never fail to offer some sanity and a return to something very worthwhile, even if it’s only to remember that the natural world is where we come from and where we shall return someday, despite what happens to us in between.

PS Hope you all enjoy The Skye Trail on Sunday evening at 6.45pm BBC Scotland (Sky Channel 990)Photo Cap: Ruthven Barracks, Kingussie

With cloud down to about a thousand feet I had been navigating by map and compass for much of the morning, a worthy exercise in itself but hardly one that leads to transcendental mountain experiences!

I had made my way north along the rather awkwardly twisting ridge of Meall na Meoig of Beinn Pharlagain in the Rannoch deer forest and had more or less resigned myself to a dark day in the clouds. But as I dropped down towards the broad col that lies below Meall na Meoig’s northern neighbour, the Munro of Sgor Gaibhre, the clouds were suddenly and dramatically swept aside and I gazed down on a surprisingly sun-drenched Loch Ericht.

It was one of those moments that can turn a dour day into a memorable one, as though someone has drawn the curtains apart to allow daylight into a darkened room.

A single beam of light had singled out Benalder Bay and its immediate surroundings- the bothy, the stand of ancient Caledonian Pines and the vivid green foreshore - a splash of glorious colour in a monochrome world. For a brief moment,the winter gloom was swept away. It was like a promise of things to come and you’ve no idea how it cheered me up. There have been too many miserable days to herald the arrival of this winter!

Almost inevitably the cloud soon wrapped itself around me again and I tramped on over the two Munros of Sgor Gaibhre and Carn Dearg. Now and again holes in the clouds offered tantalising glimpses of something other than my compass dial, reminding me of the fabulous position of these hills that lie between the eastern edges of the brooding Rannoch Moor and the foot of Loch Ericht.

Many walkers travel to these hills by train. The West Highland line has handy stations at Rannoch and Corrour. With a whole bunch of other Munros in the area either stop makes a terrific place for a weekend away, staying perhaps in the bunkhouse at Corrour or the SYHA hostel at lovely Loch Ossian.

Alternatively, Sgor Gaibhre, 3133ft/955m, and Carn Dearg, 3087ft/941m, can be climbed from the south along with the Corbett of Meall na Meoig, 2848ft/868m in an excellent horseshoe ridge walk that, on a clear day, offers fabulous views of both the Rannoch Moor and the Loch Ericht hills. All the way round you can enjoy great views to the west, across the great expanse of the Rannoch Moor towards the distant hills of the Blackmount Deer Forest, or into Coire Eigheach, the big corrie around which this route forms a great horseshoe.

The advantage of this route is that you’re not dependent on train times - you can drive there. Park to the north of Loch Eigheach and take the Road to the Isles track to the footbridge over the Allt Eigheach. Just north of the bridge you start climbing the Leacann nan Giomach slopes of Beinn Pharlagain to reach the twisty ridge that leads to the Corbett. Both Munros can then be linked by high, broad ridges.

A number of years ago I enjoyed a longer trip in this area, taking in both Carn Dearg and Sgor Gaibhre. From the summit of Sgor Gaibhre I wandered north along the long high level ridge that leads to Meall a’ Bhealaich and Beinn a’ Chumhainn. The views towards the Aonach Beag group in the north and down into the jaws of the Bealach Dubh were magnificent. Steep slopes took me down into the lower reaches of the Bealach Cumhainn and the footpath to Ben Alder bothy on the shores of Loch Ericht. Next day I made my way back to Rannoch by a series of stalker’s paths and forest trails.

Photo Cap: Looking down on Loch Ossian with Ben Nevis in the distance

I’d never visited Raasay before and as the ferry ploughed its way through wind-torn waves from Sconser in Skye I settled myself down and read through the lines of Sorley MacLean’s great poem, Hallaig.

Somhairle MacGill-Eain was, of course, arguably the greatest of Gaeldom’s bards. He was born at Ostaig on the Isle of Raasay in 1911 where his upbringing was rooted in the richness of Gaelic culture. Hallaig is one of his best known poems and for years I’ve been attracted by its underlying themes of nature. Indeed, while much of MacLean’s work dwells on the brutality of war and modern exploitation he often uses landscape as a kind of symbolism. His work doesn’t offer much in the way of light reading, and a Gaelic-speaking friend of mine once suggested that reading the poetry of Sorley MacLean can feel like a physical work-out.

In contrast, the walk to Hallaig, situated on the sheltered east coast of Raasay, is fairly easy. Despite the stormy sea crossing and the threat of wind-blasted rain the truncated cone of Dun Caan, at 443metres the highest point on Raasay, offered a degree of shelter from the westerly gales. From time to time the sun broke through the clouds and illuminated the golden bracken of the slopes in an uncanny brilliance and beyond the green swell of the sea lay the mainland mountains of Ross and Cromarty.

I left the car at the end of the public road at North Fearns where a single wooden signpost pointed the way to Hallaig. In1919 some crofting families were evicted from Acarsaid Thioram on the island of Rona and came to this part of Raasay where they tried to take some land to live on. They were arrested but were later released following a public outcry. They returned to Raasay and became known as the Rona Raiders. Following this the British government took on the ownership of both Rona and Raasay and the population of the former went into severe decline as most crofters followed the Raiders and moved to the larger island.

Beyond the road end a lovely green track runs along the top of the cliffs. This is the original road built to access the crofting township of Hallaig. Grass and moss have grown over the ancient cobbles just as bracken now dominates the fields that once grew oats or barley. As the path gently curves its way around the lower slopes of Beinn na Leac it begins to rise slightly below a dark cliff below which, with a view out across Hallaig Bay, lies a tasteful memorial cairn to Raasay’s most famous son, Sorley MacLean. It also carried the words of Hallaig, in both Gaelic and English.

“Time, the deer, is in the wood of Hallaig.

The window is nailed and boarded

Through which I saw the West…”

Beyond the cairn, through some ancient woodland, I came across the first of the old buildings, roofless and bare. Through the wood of Hallaig, a large copse of small stunted birches, a bubbling stream gave a hint of life in an otherwise empty landscape, populated only by the ghosts of those evicted or forced to emigrate.

On the hill beyond the wood more shells of buildings lay scattered, monuments in themselves, recalling the hard lives of those who once lived and worked and died here. I sat amongst the cold stones and wondered if those crofters were as thrilled by the blend of sea and mountains as I was. What, for them, lay beyond the blue-tinted mountains that formed the horizon across the sea? What does the next twist of history hold for a place like Hallaig?

Sorley MacLean’s poetic vision transformed the trees of the wood of Hallaig into people – the native rowan, the hazels and the birch became groups of young women, suggestive perhaps of the earth’s regenerative power from which all life springs. Perhaps the poet’s vision of a populated Hallaig is better than reality ever was?

Promising myself that I must return here, perhaps to bivvy down within the protective walls of some old blackhouse and spend a night with the ghosts of old, I followed the track back through the stark woods and along the green trail with the mountains of Skye teasing me through the curtains of windswept rain. This may not have been the hardest of walks in Scotland, but it surely is one of the most evocative.

Just put up a bunch of images from the trek I recently led to the Annapurna Sanctuary in Nepal. You can check them out in my Gallery.

I have three brand new DVD’s on sale from today.

Dave MacLeod’s To Hell and Back is the story of a remarkable rock climb in the heart of the Cairngorms; Karen’s Ultimate Adventure tells the tale of paraplegic Karen Darke and her amazing sea kayak journey in remote Patagonia with her partner, mountaineer Any Kirkpatrick; and The BIG Bike Ride is a heart-warming and inspiring account of two Scots grandmothers who, against all the odds, cycle from coast-to-coast across Canada.

Check them out in my SHOP section.

Coming Soon: Discover the West Highland Way, will be available in early January, as will The Skye Trail and Series 2 of Wild Walks from BBC Scotland’s The Adventure Show

I need some help. I’m doing some research on visually impaired hillwalkers for a project I’m working on and I need to hear from/speak to visually impaired walkers and climbers in Scotland.
If you are visually impaired and still go to the hills, with or without help, can you drop me an email through this website? Many thanks…

Triple Echo Production, the film company behind my Skye Trail programme that goes out on BBC Scotland (Sky Channel 990) on Dec 27 at 6.45pm, have put a clip of the programme on their website.
Check it out here

Last year the Scottish government published a highly questionable bit of research that claimed the presence of wind turbines had little effect on tourism. That paper was quickly challenged by my good friends at Wilderness Scotland, one of the country’s finest trekking companies. A survey they had conducted earlier came to very different conclusions, suggesting that many people wouldn’t return to an area where windfarms had been constructed.

Earlier this week I was shown a letter from a woman, Jane Kershaw, who operates a camping and caravan park near Skipton in Yorkshire. Some time ago a small 8-turbine windfarm was constructed on Knabs Ridge, fairly close to her business. Almost immediately, she began to lose trade.

“This park has been in the family ownership for 28 years and throughout that time, until the wind farm was operating, the number of vacant pitches each season has been on average eight. (The park has 159 static pitches and 57 touring pitches, which are normally let on a season basis),” she said

“We began dramatically losing customers once the wind farm became operational. (i.e. customers began moving their static and touring vans to other parks). This was most evident from end of season i.e. November 07. At the beginning of this season (April, 2009) we had 40 empty static pitches and 15 empty touring pitches.”

When customers asked why they were leaving the majority said it was because of the windfarm. The message was apparently loud and clear.

Ms Kershaw also said that when potential holiday home buyers come to view the park they are now immediately put off by the proximity of the windfarm. There are apparently no other reasons why trade should fall off so dramatically -  pitch rentals have not increased dramatically; other parks in the vicinity of Harrogate, that were well away from the wind farm have enjoyed a very good year; the rules of the park have not changed.

Put into hard financial terms the effect of this windfarm have been a disaster for this holiday park owner. She has lost £91,360 in pitch fee income, plus trading, plus caravan sales. That comes to approx £400,000, and for the last two seasons she have not sold a new holiday home. Before the windfarm appeared she normally sold at least ten a year .

Ms Kershaw went on to say: “The Inquiry Inspector, in his report on the Knabs Ridge proposal, assured us all that tourist businesses would be unaffected by the turbines and we are most upset that we have now been left in this position. Harrogate Council has received many complaints about the noise of the turbines. A noise monitor was erected in an adjacent field, some way from the caravans, and a report was produced that claimed no problem. More work is being commissioned.

“I understand that in many other European countries large turbines must be sited at least 2 km away from properties. Had this been the case here, our business would not be suffering as it is now.”