For many walkers the onset of winter is the time to put away their boots and give their walking poles a rest ’till the next spring. But for me walking at this time of year is a very precious experience. It’s not so easy to spend a long day on the hills. Days out to to be planned more carefully. Routes need to be selected with greater care.

I always feel that the benefits of a good walk – a chance to un-wind from the strains and stresses of everyday life – are heightened at this time of the year. The long nights and dark evenings do invoke that SAD syndrome that we hear so much about these days. On these cold, murky, days the freshness of cold air on the cheeks hits the spot; the views from the high ridges and summits seem so much more intense: you get more “bang for the buck’ in winter than at any other time of the year. These rewards are important, not least because you have to make so much more effort to drag yourself away from that cozy living room.

Many outdoor experiences become very different in winter. It is – for me at any rate – a great time of the year to go wild camping, not so much on great excursions but out on my local hills. The day’s walk is short and camp needs to be established towards late afternoon. On these days I’ll take with me a decent candle and a good book. So long as I’m warm – tucked up in my winter sack and wearing my down jacket – I’m as cosy as anything. These days the Bushbuddy fire will crackle and pop all through the evening, a great companion, so long as it is dry enough to sit around the fire, outside of the tent. It’s not something that I do often, but it is an experience I look forward to immensely. I shall be out winter wildcamping in a couple of week and already the excitement is mounting. As long as the wind allows I’ll be under a tarp, in close contact with the elements and simply soaking in the relaxed atmosphere of my camping spot with simply a babbling stream, some noisy crows and a few sheep for company

Over recent years I’ve begun to realise just how important walking is in helping me get through winter, not least because the holiday season is almost upon us. Now don’t get me wrong. I’ve not a complete Scrooge when it comes to Christmas. But I do like the holiday season to be short and sharp; it is all the better for being an intensive experience. I like Christmas to start on Christmas Eve and for the festivities to end after Boxing Day. And walking helps me define these boundaries.

For the best part of the last decade I’ve used a walk to mark the end of the year and the beginning of the holidays. Usually it is on the day before Christmas Eve that I take to the hills. Nothing dramatic here, but I will trot out to my favourite Shropshire Hills for a day of quiet contemplation. Often I’ll take to Wenlock Edge, walking the fourteen miles or so to Craven Arms or – if the ground is really tough underfoot – taking a shorter, circular route back to Much Wenlock, walking through woodland and catching glimpses of wonderful patchwork vistas through the fleeting gaps in the trees. Or I might take to the Long Mynd, avoiding the obvious routes up and taking the long climb up from South West, from the very start of the hill. From here the marches to the West also seem to be special, but in winter – with the mists and the pinkish hue to the sky – the mystery and myth of the Welsh lands beyond seem more dramatic than ever. These walks are always solitary affairs; I can’t ever remember meeting any other walkers on the hills. By four in the afternoon I’m making my way back him, rejuvenated and ready for the hustle and hassle of the next few days.

Recently I’ve developed a new tradition after Christmas. I like to go away for four or five days, camping over New Year. Snowdonia is my venue of choice and for the last five years or so I’ve found myself here. My arrival at the small, farm, campsite in Capel Curig is always greeted with disbelief by the farmer, who think us completely mad. But we’re never alone. There are always a good handful of other walkers camping in our field. Walks are usually very local and don’t involve great car journeys or even bus trips. Evenings start early. But there is always a roaring fire in the Bryn Trych Hotel, good food and great company. Last year we shared our site with a small group from the Backpacking Club that included Heather and Alan from Pacer Poles. We met in the Pinnacle Café – a gathering of wet sodden walkers driven together atrocious wind and rain, all steaming away happily, chatting about gear and sharing walking routes – true camaraderie of the hills.

New Year’s Eve we’ll spend in the Hotel Bar. It’s busier now as climbers and walkers head up for their New Year’s Day walk. The bar’s full. Meals have to be ordered early to avoid disappointment. The atmosphere is warm, but damp and musty as a good eighty percent of the clientele is joining together in drying out after the inevitable wet Snowdonia Day. Often, these days, we don’t even make it to midnight, being tucked into sleeping bags by the time the singing and the fireworks start. Whether we’re in our bags or not, seeing in the New Year in the hills is a great experience.

These winter days on the hills are so special that each year, at the onset of winter, I tell myself to take more advantage of them. Not only do they see me through to the Spring, but they have a very special quality all of their own.