Last night we were walking across rugged moorland in quickly fading light, breath rising in the cold air. Banks of cloud rolling across the high hills enveloping us every now in damp misty drizzle. Head torches on trying to find a way through the bogs to where we would pitch for the night. Tents pitched in darkness, desperate for warm food. Waking up at 4.00am needing to pee and finding that my tent is frozen solid and ice is floating in my water bottle. Morning comes and you sit up to receive a condensation shower. A few hours later removing layers in the intense sunshine, returning back to the car park full of picnicking day trippers enjoying the autumn warmth.
Was it winter or summer this weekend?
Our high moorland camp at dawn this morning, a write-up in the week.