MLD Trailstar, Oookstar Nest and Oooktub Groundsheet for Sale ALL NOW SOLD

My Trailstar and Oooknest in use in 2014 on the Wales Coastal Path

 
After much agonising I have decided to sell my Mountain Laurel Designs Trailstar and custom built Oookworks 'Oookstar' single inner.  Both have had very little use. The Trailstar has only been out 10 nights; the Oookstar just 7.

Why am I selling this sought after combination, and why is it so little used? Quite simply, despite its justified popularity I am 6 foot 3 inches tall and have a recurrent lower back problem. I think the Trailstar / Oookstar combination is ideal for anyone up to about six foot or someone younger and more flexible than me! I have two other shelters which I find more comfortable for my height.

I also have for sale an Oookworks single person rectangular bathtub groundsheet which you can use with the Trailstar if you don't want to take the nest with you. It will also fit in tents such as the Akto or Scarp if you don't wish to use the inner.

Details: 

Mountain Laurel Designs Trail Star in silnylon.

This shelter will need no introduction. I purchased it new in Summer 2012.  For anyone 6 foot or below it is absolutely superb. MLD describes the colour as grey. To me it looks a grey-green colour. That too is a problem as it doesn’t go well with my steely blue eyes. A bonus point for the puchaser is that it is seam sealed and I’ll throw this in for free (!!!). Guys also included but not pegs.

My Trailstar in Glen Tilt, 2012

Oookstar (single) for the above.  Purchased new in Spring 2013. Almost as legendary as the Trailstar, and now apparently unobtainable new.  This has a black chikara floor (less slippy than silnylon). The walls are a combination of mesh, white cuben fibre, and yellow rip stop nylon. This allows good ventilation whilst helping keeping draughts off you.  The top part of the nest is mesh.  The lower c40 cm of the door side (T Zip) is cuben fibre.  The lower c 55 cm of the opposite wall is in cuben fibre too.  The lower c55 cm of both end walls is in ripstop.  This was chosen because it is more breathable than cuben fibre and, thus, less likely to make the end of your sleeping bag damp if condensation is ever present.  On my kitchen scales it weighs in at 375 gr.

NB. The mesh got attacked by a cat on the day it was delivered to me when I was trying it out in the garden. Said cat made two tiny holes in the mesh (it also scared me witless as it was dark and I was asleep in it at the time and couldn't work out what was happening). One hole is about 2cm by 3mm; the other about 3mm diameter.  I have repaired these with clear tenancious tape patches of approx. 5 cm by 5 cm. I also put a small tenatious tape (about 5cm by 2cm) patch on a piece of mesh which I thought might have a small snag so it didn't start to run. The cat is still living and is very fortunate to be in my opinion. She is certainly down to eight lives.

The Oooknest hanging from my kitchen ceiling. Ok I didn't have a picture of it in action but you'll get the drift.  Photo taken when I was practicing to use it as a hanging bivi on an attempted free climb over several days of the legendary V Diff. 'Little Chamonix' on Shepherd's Crag, Borrowdale

You can just about make out the two patches over the repaired holes in the mesh on this photo.

Oook Tub: Used three times only – then I decided I preferred using the Oooknest.  Single size, silnylon groundsheet from Oookworks with its clever little bath tub walls. Oook tub now sold.

Price:

As I wrote above, I have agonised about selling, not least because this is a good shelter for me if I'm out with Hyperdog Moss. So, and to be blunt, I want as much as I can possibly get for it. And be honest, so would you if you were selling something!!!  So if you are interested in any of the items please make me an offer. Given the low use, lack of availability, savings on customs duty if importing from MLD, and prices others have sold for, I would be expecting at least £155 for the Trailstar, £165 for the nest and £18 for the Oooktub. I'll come down slightly if anyone wants both nest and Trailstar. This price includes P and P.

If you want to purchase, or have any queries, either post in the comments column, or use the Contact Form on this blog or DM me on Twitter (@FellBound). 

A Fine Panorama: A Walk in Wales along Creigiau Eglwyseg

'Bugger Off': I didn't have to cross the fence onto this bit of moorland but would it really have mattered? Obviously to this landowner.

Well I have been slaving over the old Remington for the last few weeks getting my thesis finished. It was bound yesterday, but not gagged, and is now ready to be taken to Milton Keynes by privatised Postman Pat as soon as I can figure out his complex pricing system.  So that job being done and almost dusted, I was able to reward myself with three or four hours in the hills today to let the eyeballs unravel or whatever it is eyeballs do when they have been ravelled up for weeks.

Not having lots of time I pootled along to the local uppy bits which are near Llangollen and parked the Model T in an old quarry at the foot of Trevor Rocks. Although it has been glorious weather all week it was now tipping it down so I pulled on the waterproofs (well the Gore Tex trousers are waterproof, the top half of me was in Paramo), made Hyperdog Moss put on his smart red coat as it was a bit nippy and we headed off. After less than thirty seconds the rain stopped and it stayed away for the whole walk which in my book is what is known as a 'result'.

Looking towards the Horseshoe Pass

 

And after a bit of up it was along the fantastic limestone edges of the Panorama Walk and passed Creigiau Eglwyseg in the super late autumn sunshine. And whatever Carol Kirkwood and her weather cronies from the Met Office say, it is still autumn until the Winter Solstice, as any well educated Druid will tell you.  Hyperdog had a lovely time, apart from when he had to go on long lead for being a bit too hyper near the vertical limestone cliffs and that’s about it really and we didn’t see a soul until we were almost back at the car. Unless fell ponies have souls because we saw a few of those.  I had the Kodac Instamatic with me so I'll leave you with a few photos.  Oh, and I should also say, for Andrew W's benefit, that I did the hoovering when I got home.

One Day There Will Be Silence

Over Ullswater to Blencathra this October

I have never been one for a macho approach to hill walking. By ‘macho approach’, which might be the wrong terminology, I’m thinking of a very long day's walk, over difficult terrain, striving for many summits, possibly in poor weather. That being said, I have done many tough hikes and these have often been memorable.  But I am also very happy doing shorter days, when I probably appreciate my surroundings more, without the pressure to move on, or to hit a target, or to complete a pre-determined route. For many years I have been fortunate enough to live within an easy distance of the hills, both in Cumbria and Wales. Thus, I can be more choosy about my walking than those who have to make a special effort and travel long distances to get their fix. And shorter days suit me as I get older. I’ve ticked my lists, and still do so, but I am also more than happy to return over and over again to old favourites for short days in the hills.

Looking to Helvellyn from the path to Arthur's Pike, October 2014

Coming down the Old Corpse Road to Haweswater, June 2014

A water survey post between Branstree and Selside Pike, June 2014

The joys of being able to seek out the less spectacular and easier hills have been evident in a few walks recently. I have followed broad grassy ridges, often alone for most of the day, save Hyperdog Moss, no other walkers in sight. Relatively easy walking, lovely views, that invigorating feeling of the wind on your face, and the silence. Not the silence as defined by the dictionary, but the silence of the hills –  the wind, the occasional call of a bird or a sheep, the sound of my breathing as I labour uphill. For me this is the silence of peace, the silence that allows you to empty your mind of thoughts and by default allow the senses to roll in and out of your mind. Sight, sound, smell, taste and touch. The views, the birds, the bracken, the water from a stream, the contrast between rock and grass under your trail shoe or boot.

I do not know if there is an afterlife, but if there is I hope I spend mine walking a grassy fell, watching the summer sun above me competing with transient white clouds. And below me will be a lake such as Ullswater, with the Raven and the Lady of the Lake making their way along the water, carrying unseen crowds of smiling, relaxed holidaymakers.  The gentle breeze will make my face glow, and my two boys and my lovely wife will wander with me until the end of time. And then I will no longer have to dream or try to forget. At last I truly will be a free man on the hills.

Looking to Moel Sych and Cadair Berwyn, November 2014

My hillwalking mate in the Berwyns, November 2014

Talking Crap

I have noticed that American bloggers are far less reticent when it comes to talking crap in posts about wild camping. But with the growth in understanding about the importance of the ‘leave no trace’ philosophy I thought I would pose a question about a subject that would be guaranteed to start any decent school boy sniggering.

Now we all know that bears shit in the woods. And backpackers shit on the hill. So what is the appropriate way to deal with the doings? Many years ago I was taught to dig a hole, the deeper the better, commit the deed, produce a lighter and burn the paper, refill the hole, making sure you didn’t set fire to the peat or surrounding vegetation.  And that’s what I have done until this day. However, I am worried that this might not be adequate, but hope it is!  Many US bloggers now appear to be discussing the best sorts of methods of carrying out the used paper in a hygienic manner. Here's an example, with (discreet) photos included.  And now I read that in some places eg in Yosemite (I think) it is a requirement to carry out the whole caboodle, doggy poo bag style. I have to say I don’t fancy that. Even worse, it might lead to the backpacking equivalent of those dog owners who seem to think it is ok to scoop then hang the bag on the nearest branch or chuck it over a garden wall.

So it’s not a very delicate subject but what is the appropriate way to deal with this in the hills in this day and age?

Friends Old and New: An overnight trip in the Shropshire Hills

The hills of South Shropshire are where, over half a life time ago, I first broke in my walking boots.  Living in Shrewsbury as a teenager, with my best friend in Church Stretton, I spent many, many weekends walking these hills, both day and night, for we not infrequently walked from before it was light until after dark, and on a number of occasions walked all through the night.  In one twenty hour walk, in October 1974 I think it was, I covered fifty miles across these hills, and this remains my record to this day.

Looking up Carding Mill Valley

The other day I was very keen to get out in what was forecast to be the last of our 'Indian Summer', but nervous of a still tender back after a fortnight of some discomfort. The prospect of a trip with good weather, and the chance to try out a new shelter overcame the wise voice in my head telling me to rest up a few days longer.  The compromise was adjusting my original plan of a high camp at a nice spot I have in mind on the top of one of the Berwyns in favour of a favourite short walk, followed by a camp near a village with a pub.  This would save me from twelve hours lying in a dark tent on a Neoair, not the best treatment for lower back pain.

Thus, I headed in the early afternoon to Church Stretton with a pretty light overnight pack by my standards, and set off up the Long Mynd.  For those of you who have never visited, this is delightful, but easy, hill walking country. The Mynd itself is a long heather covered moorland plateau running north to south.  Its east side, facing the Stretton Valley, is disected by several deep, parallel valleys, of the classic geography text book V shape.  Locally, these are often known as a batch or a hollow. Between the valleys are very broad ridges.  Thus, it is easy to combine circular routes to the top of the Long Mynd, Pole Bank, via a couple of valleys or ridges or one of each.  The top is at a modest 516 metres, but on a clear day it has glorious views as far as Cadair Idris and the Rhinogs to the west, and the Urals to the east. Yes the Urals. Honest! See my earlier blog post.

Looking back down from near top of Carding Mill Valley to Church Stretton

Thus, I headed along a cunning path that runs well above the parked cars in the lowest reaches of the honey pot which is Carding Mill Valley, then up that valley itself, passing the school fieldwork parties that always come here, each struggling after such a dry spell to undertake a stream study. The path is a lovely gradient, steep enough for you to get a sweat on and increase the pace of your breathing, but just when you feel you might want to stop for five you emerge on the plateau of the Mynd where you can stretch your legs and stride out for miles in this super walking country.

The Portway - a pre-historic track across the top of the Long Mynd

From the site of the old corrugated iron shooting box, which must have been gone for twenty or more years now, there were impressive views westwards on this lovely clear day. A couple of miles to the west is the lovely Stiperstones ridge, with its tors that make the Devil's Chair, and its unmissable sky line, and its ankle breaking quartz rock hidden in the heather that runs the length of its ridge. Further to the south and west is the easily recognised profile of Corndon Hill, still in Shropshire, but right up to the Welsh Border with old Montgomeryshire, killed off in 1974, resurrecting the Powys of old, but without its princes. And on the far horizon, the distinctive shape of Cader Idris, which must be forty miles as the crow flies, and the high mountains of southern Snowdonia.

Pole Bank - the top of the Long Mynd, looking towards the Stiperstones

Selfie at Pole Bank

From Pole Bank I back tracked a couple of hundred yards and then headed off down towards a spring called Boiling Well and the lovely little path down Ashes Hollow, winding through the autumnal bracken, following the stream around its perfectly interlocking spurs.  

Heading down Ashes Hollow

In Ashes Hollow

Right at the end of the hollow is a small but perfectly formed little camp site on the edge of the village of Little Stretton. I last camped here with my little brother when I was sixteen, in my first ever tent, a Litchfield Mistral 1. This served me well in my early forays in the hills, until its groundsheet lost all its waterproof coating four years later resulting in a damp night in an Alpine meadow. That was the day after Elvis Presley died. My memory is a strange and mysterious thing.

Wonderful location at Little Stretton, but rather over priced

It was somewhat fitting that I was back at the site where I tested out my first tent, as I could now try out my latest, my Z Packs Hexamid Duplex .  Alan Sloman has decreed that all tents should have a name, and that tents are female, so the Duplex is now Daphne.  At just 835 grams, with added linelocks, pegs, and in the 'heavier' grade cuben fibre option, she is ultra lightweight for a two person shelter, and she has some pretty radical design features. But I need to know how she will handle bad weather.  Rain should be no problem, but what about a good British hoolie?  She  certainly wouldn't have managed well tonight, though. I tried out a new set of Vargo titanium pegs, and four of the six bent badly and so she was not anchored down that effectively. What titanium is doing bending so easily I do not know, but I shall bring the Clam Cleat Tornadoes next time.

I'm getting my money back. Vargo Titanium V pegs after their first use. The four failures all occurred at the same point on the peg

Before bed, though, I wanted to indulge in some fine dining.  Sainsbury's packet tomato soup is really rather good. Mountain House dehydrated meals aren't.  I am still using up a stock from an ill advised purchase.  Perhaps the walk had been too short to make it edible, but it was in the bin after a couple of spoonfulls, the perfect excuse to walk a few hundred yards to the Ragleth Inn and a very good bar snack. Tempura prawns in chilli sauce, Steak Dianne, sticky toffee pudding and a couple of pints of 'Shropshire Lass' if you want to know, and an hour with the Kindle, before heading back to the tent.

I wasn't to find out this night how well Daphne copes with weather.  For much of the time it was still, and only in the early hours did the slightest breeze materialise.  I bedded down with the doors open on one side, admiring the stars and the moonlight.  For a single skin shelter I was impressed at how little condensation formed.  It was a calm, clear night and I was next to a stream. There was some, but she is super spacious and it was easy to stay away from the walls. There is none of that head in the sides nonsense of many other lightweight shelters, either when lying down or sitting up.

Z Packs Groupie: The Hexamid Duplex, aka 'Daphne' and the Arc Blast aka 'Billy'

Daphne can take two men at once. She is a palace for one

I had to get back home earlyish in the morning, so after my breakfast special of porridge made in a plastic bag I had a back jarring couple of miles by road to Church Stretton and the car home.  A fine little outing for me and the new girl.