East Lothian - Camp stove picnic

One thing I've missed over the recent lockdown is getting away camping. In particular, I miss the fun of cooking at the tent in the evening and the reassuring roar of the camp stove as it sparks into life. But I had an idea recently to at least recreate one of those elements by cooking a hot lunch on the camp stove while out for exercise. And the perfect place for this was the Pencaitland Railway Trail. It's one of my most used local cycle routes and I've really appreciated it over the last year of the pandemic. So my friend Graham and I packed up our bicycles and headed out there on a grey, cold day that felt neither winter nor spring. 

We soon cycled by what we now call "lockdown bench" - a place where we used to sit and have a flask of coffee when we were out cycling in the first lockdown. A little further on though, we pulled into our favourite spot where a couple of picnic benches are set on grass beside allotments. It's a lovely place, tucked away from the world and really peaceful. There are flower borders which today were dotted with snowdrops. In summer they are full with wildflowers which buzz with bees. There is woodland all around so the air is always filled with birdsong. We wrapped up in blankets, set up our camp kitchen and got cooking. Our hot lunch today was pan fried salmon and asparagus served with our favourite Idahoan instant mash potatoes. This was followed by Gu gluten free cheesecakes washed down with coffee. The cheesecakes were really handy for transporting by bicycle and miraculously arrived in one piece. 

Quite a feast! The only downside, having eaten so much, was cycling home again. 

Scald Law - Eleven below

There's an old saying, in outdoor circles at least, that in summer Scotland has hills but in winter, it has mountains. Although our hills are not high, the northerly position exposes them to a harsh climate in winter which makes them much more challenging than you might guess from their height. It might be a stretch to apply this logic to my lowly local hills, the Pentlands, which only reach 500 metres or so. However, the thought was in my mind recently as pictures appeared on social media of a significant avalanche on Turnhouse Hill, barely a bump in the Pentlands. Then a walk up Scald Law really drove home the message as we ascended its snow-covered slopes into testing winter conditions. 

We'd walked in from its south side, just as the sun was clearing the morning horizon. It cast an alpenglow over Scald Law above which stopped us in our tracks as we gazed up. Like all tricks of the light, it was an ephemeral moment and we soon continued along the main path. It was well trampled in the snow and took us through stands of gorse and rough pasture to the lower slopes of the hill. 

Where we met a drystone wall, we left the path, strapped on our snowshoes and headed across country. We made progress by stitching together the lines of deeper snow which was soft powder in some places but wonderfully hard-packed in others, perfect for the snowshoes. 

As we climbed, the flush of colour from the dawn sun drained from the land and a monochrome, winter world stretched out below us. When we gained more height, the character of the snow changed and we marvelled at the beautiful sastrugi, the wave-like patterns in the snow created by the wind. Of course, it was a forewarning of the conditions up ahead. 

The final section to the top of Scald Law was steep. It's steep in summer when it's grass but in winter, under snow, it's really steep. We were grateful that the snowshoes had crampon spikes to bite into the hard snow but I think we were probably stretching the limit of them. However, no sooner had we pulled onto the top than we didn't need them as it was mostly scoured of snow by the wind that blasted through. 

It was an Arctic-like place up there that day and the gusts dropped the windchill to minus eleven degrees. It's incredible how tough it can be in these conditions, barely able to stand in the wind and really challenged by the cold to do small, fiddly tasks with your hands. But somehow, we swapped snowshoes for microspikes and descended. 

Less than hour later, we were enjoying our picnic at the bottom, looking to Scald Law above. It gave away no hint of the winter wildness of its upper reaches. 

Fact File
Start/finish: Path northeast of Silverburn
Public Transport: Stagecoach Service 101 between Edinburgh and Dumfries
Route: Ascended path signposted at layby northeast of Silverburn on A702. Where it met a drystone wall, left the path and crossed the stream below it to ascend Scald Law via its southeast ridge. From the top, we descended the main route northeast then picked up the continuation of the outward path at the bealach between Scald Law and Carnethy Hill. Used it to return to the start.