The "Trial"

So, you know when you just impulse purchase all the stuff to wild camp, spend an absolute fortune, and then actually have to test out if you are even going to enjoy it? No? Well, yes, that would be the sensible answer... but not in my case.

Where it all began

Me (Dani) and Sarah were both rather down one evening and we came to the conclusion we needed a holiday. Not just any holiday though. A challenging one, an off-grid one, one that would completely remove us from society. This resulted in a discussion that lead us to plan a multiday hike where we would wild camp in Scotland. To give you some context, I had never, ever done anything like this before. I blindly accepted, and then started the hunt for all the equipment that would be needed... Oh my, the list was ever growing, but the thought of this trip was exhilarating.

So, I have equipment, what now?

A few weeks later, I was the definition of 'all the gear, no idea'. We both had one weekend free in between everything surrounding our trip and decided we must trial all our equipment before embarking on such an adventure. Sarah plotted a little local route in the Black Mountain range that we could do after I finished my shift at work on Saturday. Now, I have never walked with such weight on my back, and, bearing in mind that I am a fitness instructor, I agreed to do an 18-kilometre walk with all the gear... not sure this was my brightest idea. Nonetheless, the plan was set, and, with much enthusiasm, I packed all my equipment the night before and headed to Sarah's after work.

The first of many adventures begins...

It was a Saturday in the coldest March it seems like the UK has had in a long time. I arrive at Sarah's home, all giddy and excited. We ensure we have everything we need, pack up the car, and head for Llanbedr. On route, I pick up the most glorious meal for my tea to be eaten once we'd set up camp: Quorn Chicken slices and a Bombay Bad Boy Pot Noodle... GET IN.

We arrive at Llanbedr. The sun is shining, and everything looks glorious. So we park up, pack up, and hit the trail. I was, at first, very impressed by the lightness of my kit and happy with how comfortable everything seemed from the get-go. Especially considering that I'd made bad life choices and had bruised shoulders from teaching shoulder mounts that day. It wasn't long into the walk before we started walking up steep climbs and realised we needed a quick outfit change... Oh, what an absolute FAFF it was just to take off a jumper. All the unclipping, zipping, and untying. Faff taken care of, we jump over a stile and carry on with our walk.

We're now less than 2 miles in, and it seems that Sarah, our navigator, whom I am following willy-nilly without question, gets us a bit off route, and we have to recalibrate. One faffy climb over a barbwire fence later, and we're back on track... Oh wait, no. Still the wrong path. I laughed at Sarah as she'd said, prior to starting the walk, "I know this route, so it should be pretty simple". Finally, fence number two scaled, and, this time, we're actually back on track. At least for now, that is.

The steepness of the route was absolutely not what I was hoping for after a day of teaching, but I soldiered on motivated by the thought of having that Pot Noodle in my cool lil' lightweight tent somewhere in the mountains.

It was all going so well, until...

We were making great progress, but as we got higher and higher into the Black Mountains, the weather started to turn. The sun was hidden behind a thick blanket of clouds, producing that deceiving misty kind of rain that soaks you when it doesn't feel like it's actually doing much. Having both lived in Wales long enough to know that waterproofs are essential on any outing, we were prepared. However, feeling optimistic that the weather would pass, we carried on without kitting up. Oh, how very wrong we were. The rain starts to come down in buckets, and I make the executive decision to put on my waterproof trousers and jacket. Sarah plonks on in just her jacket.

We carried on as the daylight started to fade. The wind was becoming wild, the rain was never-ending, and the cloud cover disguised the path ahead. Literally, if you wanted to trial your gear for Scotland in April, we could not have asked for better weather. I can still remember the feeling of the rain hitting my face. It was as cold as ice, like little sharp knives hitting you with every raindrop. My hands were frozen solid at this point as I still hadn't found gloves to fit my baby hands.

With the weather being so violent up the mountain, Sarah, panicking a bit, and I, laughing and delirious, deduced it was time to decide how to handle this situation. We concluded it was best to go off route and head down, as it was starting to get dark. This would allow us to find a potentially safer place to camp.

Now yes, please note that wild camping is not permitted in Wales. If you must do so, always ensure you leave no trace and respect the land.

The walk to our camp spot was wet, miserable, and everything else that should completely put you off this sort of adventure. But I kid you not, the fact it was so wet, cold, and miserable is what had me completely hooked. We scaled down the mountain on what felt like the steepest path ever, taking every step with caution to avoid falling on my rear. Eventually, we got down the steeper section and put our headlamps on. From here, we started down some even dodgier paths, which became what felt like scrambles as we both scaled down some big rocks with limited lighting, looking for somewhere to camp. After around 40 minutes of searching, scrambling, and trying not to cry, we finally found somewhere 'suitable' to pitch up.

Setting up camp

It was about 8:30 p.m., and raining, windy, cold, and dark. I had never set up my tent before, and in those conditions, having only watched YouTube videos of how to assemble it, I had quite the challenge ahead of me. Yeah... a fantastic idea, I know. After much research, I chose the Vango Helium F10 UL1. Now, it seemed simple enough to set up, but the first time, in those conditions, was a whole other story. Sarah quickly set up the outer of her Alpkit Soloist and came to my aid. We battled with the wind while setting up my tent. Eventually, both tents were up, and we got cracking on our interiors while the water was boiling for those well-deserved Pot Noodles.

For this trip in particular, my JetBoil hadn't arrived, so at this point, we were relying on Sarah's basic packable stove. My god. The wait for our Pot Noodles was unbearable. Both starving, cold, and tired, waiting for the water to boil with fingers so cold they barely had movement in them, it felt endless. Around what felt like 20 minutes later, after realising that I hadn't actually poured enough water for both pot noodles, we finally got what we needed, and both of us dived into our cosy beds to eat and sleep. I sadly then came to the realisation that I had forgotten my spork and had to eat my Pot Noodle with a multitool.

It was still the best Pot Noodle I had ever eaten. My multi-tool has not worked since, so I don't recommend it as a fork.

The morning after

Sleep-deprived but happy, starving but fulfilled, I woke up in my little tent. It was a bit wet on the inside, which was down to poor tent setup, and I kept getting cramp throughout the night. This was also due to poor setup, as my mat was pumped up way too hard. In addition to these little setup issues, I learned the most important lesson of all that night: wild camping in the wind and rain is hard going, but waking up to beautiful sunshine and views make it all worthwhile. Music on and singing to myself, I set up the stove for coffee, biscuits, and half a protein bar for breakfast.

Admittedly, our camping spot was probably a bit too public, but in the conditions we had the night before, it was the safest option. We filtered some water from the river, packed up our soaking gear, and got back on the trail to the car.

As you can see from the photo, this was very much a desperation camp spot. However, it had water, and it was mostly flat and sheltered, making it ideal in the conditions we had.

The walk to the car

After taking around 20-odd years to pack up all of our gear and squish it back into our backpacks, we headed back out on the trail. Obviously, the route had changed, but this time, being a local, Sarah actually knew the way back to Llanbedr. I thought my legs were going to be dead the next day, but surprisingly, I felt pretty okay. The weather had completely changed from the day before, and the sun was shining down on the two of us, which, of course, led to multiple faffy outfit changes.

We discussed our feelings towards the day before and our gear, and both agreed the Jetboil/Jetboil

alternative was a must for Scotland. Sarah also debated getting a new bag for the trip. Thankfully, though, no poo shovel was needed for this particular trip.

We walked up and over Crug Mawr, and I attempted to climb the trig point with all my gear on my back, which was a sight to see. We ate our chocolate lollipops atop the hill and then descended into Llanbedr.

Sheep chased and snacks eaten, we arrive down the hill and into the village. My little legs felt weary and my tummy hurt, but overall, I felt accomplished and hungry for more. We get to the car and head home. Not at all as planned, but what an interesting, successful first outing!

Afterthoughts

Although not to plan, this little trial trip showed us a lot. We both had the common sense to improvise when things were starting to look a little hairy. And, although navigation was rusty, we still managed to stay mostly on the route. Between us, we made a great hiking team. I was able to keep the motivation flowing, while Sarah kept us both safe. The trial of our equipment couldn't have gone any better; it really was tested to the absolute maximum.

Oh. And one final thing... always pack chocolate lollipops. They are an absolute treat.