Field Notes

Choosing a new sleeping bag can feel overwhelming with so many options on the market. In this guide, we break down one of the most important factors to consider, comfort ratings, and explain how they work, how they’re tested, and what they actually mean for real-world camping in the UK. By understanding the difference between comfort, limit, and extreme ratings, you’ll be able to choose a sleeping bag that keeps you warm, comfortable, and well-prepared for the seasons ahead.

After a long day hiking, the last thing you want is to struggle pitching your tent as bad weather rolls in. Trekking pole tents are a great lightweight option, but they can be tricky if you’re unfamiliar with the setup. This quick guide walks you through the basics, from pegging out the corners and positioning your trekking poles to tightening guy lines, so you can pitch your shelter quickly and securely, even in challenging conditions, and spend more time enjoying the mountains.

Late on a Wednesday evening we got an email cancelling a meeting scheduled for Friday. The reason? “Unreal Scottish winter conditions.” Ordinarily, a last-minute cancellation like that wouldn’t go down too well. But if “drop everything for a bluebird day in the mountains” isn’t the exact ethos we want at Summit Systems, then what is? The meeting was postponed, and just like that, I had a window for my own Scottish winter weekend. I jumped in the car for the 7½-hour haul from Sheffield to Fort William. It’s not a drive I’d choose to do solo often, but for a proper winter window it felt more than justified. A quick refuel stop at Mainsgill Farm Shop secured sandwich supplies, and before long I was checking into Glen Nevis Hostel (exceptionally civilised as hostels go, would 100% recommend). That evening we ran through options for the next day. Avalanche risk ruled out a few ideas, so we settled on the Carn Mòr Dearg (CMD) Arête on the north side of Ben Nevis. A route that’s been on the list for a while so the opportunity to do it in full winter condition, couldn’t be missed. The day would start from the North Face car park and climbs Carn Mòr Dearg (1,220m) before traversing the narrow, rocky ridge to the summit of Ben Nevis (1,345m). It is an 18km, grade 1 scramble with pretty significant exposure throughout. With a total of over 1550m of total gain it isn't a pop to the shops thats for sure, but the views over the surrounding mountains can’t be missed. We met at 08:30, caught up quickly, and got moving. The climb kicks up straight out of the forest and doesn’t ease off. After about an hour we hit the snowline. Crampons on. Hard shells zipped. Poles out. Game on. Product note: This was my first proper winter outing with the summit poles. The interchangeable snow baskets were easy to fit. I opted for the smaller ones given the firm snowpack, and they stopped the poles punching too deep. They felt light on the pack and solid under load, which is exactly what you want when a misstep could send you off balance. The z-fold design also made deploying and stashing them quick and painless which is crucial especially on cold winter days. The snowpack was in excellent condition, firm and fast to move across. We made steady progress up Carn Mòr Dearg and soon reached the start of the arête. Poles away. Axes out. Helmets on. The view stopped us for a moment. Snow-covered peaks stretching in every direction. Clear blue sky. Hardly any wind. For a route known for exposure, it felt almost inviting. In summer, the CMD Arête is narrow and technical. With a thick blanket of snow climbing to the rock, it was more flowing, but still serious. A few sections required careful axe placements and deliberate footwork, with steep drops either side keeping you focused. Deep breaths. Slow steps. No rush. At the end of the ridge, you gain the north-west face of the Ben, where the angle kicks up sharply. We passed a few groups pausing for snacks, exchanged the obligatory British “nice day for it,” and pushed on. The wind picked up, the snow deepened, and the final climb turned into a proper lung-burning slog. By the time we topped out, we were working for it. Given the weather conditions and the fact that this was Ben Nevis, Scotland’s tallest mountain, the summit was relatively quiet and even more surprisingly there was next to zero wind!  We sat down to take it in. The summit shelter was encased in thick ice, a reminder of how savage it can be up there. But that day, it felt still and vast. Lunch never tastes better than when it’s earned. Product note: The Summit Systems sit mat isn’t specifically built for winter use, like all our kit it’s designed specifically with UL fastpacking in mind, but it did the job perfectly. Keeping me off the snow while we ate made a noticeable difference before the long descent. As we headed down via the tourist path, a number of groups could be seen topping out their routes on the west face. Belayers anchored off peering over the edge to see their partners make the final climb to join them at the top. Perhaps next time that will be us.  On the descent, we fell in with a group of climbers in their 70s who shared our dislike for the endless switchbacks on the upper slopes of the Ben. They had an alternative, much more efficient and fun approach to walking them. At each long bend, one of them would sit down, feet out front, and slide straight to the next corner. After a brief exchange of shocked looks, we quickly followed suit. Hev proved to be the fastest slider of the lot of us, much to the delight of the old boys. Alex slightly overcooked one descent and had to self-arrest with his axe before impailing himself on some rocks, thankfully his winter skills course earlier that week paid off. We repeated the method down the snowfield until we reached the edge of the snowline, where crampons came off, axes were packed away, and we wandered the final stretch back to the car, tired and quietly buzzing. This weekend affirmed to me that sometimes the best weekends are the ones that weren’t really planned. A meeting that gets cancelled, the last-minute phone calls, mates that come through, the slightly chaotic logistics. A narrow weather window opens and you just go. We’re incredibly lucky to have mountains like these within reach, places that can deliver days like that in the right conditions. That said, winter in the Scottish mountains isn’t forgiving. Good conditions don’t remove danger. Avalanche risk, exposure, rapidly changing weather. They are all very real. Having the right kit, knowing how to use it, and having the experience (or being with people who do) is non-negotiable. The mountains will always be there. The trick is making sure you come home ready for the next spontaneous weekend when the forecast turns blue again. Walk the line but never cross it. This was one of those days, and we can’t wait for the next one. Hopefully we will see you out there.  Over and out.

Our first attempt at the Limestone Way showed us exactly where our kit fell short. So when we returned to the 78km route, it wasn’t just to finish unfinished business, but to do it with gear designed for days like this. On a two-day fast-pack from Castleton to Rocester, we put our UL Z-Fold Carbon Trekking Poles, UL Down Quilt, and UL Sleep Pad through real winter conditions. Frosty starts, long climbs, slick limestone descents, and cold nights demanded reliability, efficiency, and comfort. This wasn’t lab testing, it was kit built by us, carried all day, relied on all night, and proven where it matters most.

A long weekend escape from Sheffield to the Scottish Highlands. Fuelled by curry, pints, folk music and early starts. Two blue-sky days in Glen Coe delivered snowy ridge-lines, sharp climbs, quiet moments, and a timely reminder of why good layering, clear weather windows and time outside still matter.

Every now and then you share a moment with a place, a person or both that will stick with you forever. This weekend I had one of those moments, freezing my knackers off halfway up Coniston Old Man eating a lukewarm dehydrated meal. It had been a prime November day in the lakes. Pissing round with your mates whilst bagging Wainwrights, living on your own time with not a care in the world - The kind of day you long for throughout the week. The hike was steady and the Wainwrights were out in all their glory, the rain even held off for the most part.  The pitch was flat and secluded and even though I accidentally left Nappers tent zip open for him to freeze to death (Sorry mate but still your fault), it couldn’t have been a better place to kip for the night. And as we sat there, shivering, debating whether 6:30pm is a credible bedtime for three fully-grown adults, the most amazing thing happened.   The thick cloud that suffocated the mountains for most of the day split perfectly, showcasing the most incredibly beautiful, nearly-full moon that seemed so close you could almost pick it out of the sky. The cold no longer mattered, the body no longer felt tired and any of the stresses of everyday life just melted away. In this moment, with my two mates, there was nothing else to do apart from watch the sky perform this show, which seemed to be for our eyes only. And that got me thinking, it’s moments like these that keep you coming back for more. Yes we got pissed wet through the following day, had no gas to cook breakfast and had no water until our mouth was dryer than the Sahara, but does it matter? Absolutely bloody not. Would I do it all again? In a heartbeat. There are so many people on this planet who will never experience those moments the mountains offer so often, the ones which put everything into perspective. Whether they care or not is another story, but having shared many of these moments throughout my time, i can firmly say the world would be a better place if everybody spent more time connecting to nature in this way. It’s with this mantra that Summit Systems was born. Making lightweight, stripped-back quality kit to help people seek those soul soothing moments with nature.  And that’s our mission, to motivate people to get off their screens, get out there and experience what truly matters. Over and Out  

Start: Coniston Grid Reference: SD 30197 97594 Route Type: Circular (Anti-Clockwise) If bagging Wainwrights is your hustle, this one is not to be overlooked. This route ticks off seven over the course of 23.5k and 1600m of elevation whilst delivering what every good expedition in the Lakes should - Incredible pitches and killer ascent. Tucked far enough away from the hustle and bustle of Windemere whilst still being accessible, Coniston was once home to a thriving Coppermine that dates back to Roman times. Nowadays however, the area is more accustomed to seasoned hikers and adventurists.  Standing tall behind the town, the Coniston Fells are the perfect playground for any explorer and can be conquered in one expedition, or, as we would recommend, over two days to experience everything this changing landscape has to offer. From the village, head East towards the fells. Be prepared for the ascent out on Coniston towards Walna Scar car park as it is not for the faint hearted. Upon arriving at the car park, take the steady pull up towards the first Wainwright of the day, Dow Crag. From Dow Crag onwards the route stays high along the ridgeline towards Coniston Old Man which can make for some simply incredible viewing should the weather play ball. Once at the summit, we recommend descending around 200 metres towards the tarn to pitch up. This spot offers the evening solitude of the mountains and a morning view you want on repeat.   From here, re-trace your steps up the Old man, before continuing anti-clockwise to Brim Fell, Grey  Friar, Great Carrs, Swirl How and finally Wetherlam, where you will make the steady descent back to Coniston via the old Coppermines. Once back, settle into The Crown for some heart-warming pub grub and a beverage of your choice whilst you thaw out in front of the fireplace. As with all expeditions in the Lakes, the weather can turn quickly, so make sure you have spare warm, dry layers, adequate waterproofs, suitable footwear and enough gas to cook your dinner Pro Tip: Take a pair of Swimmers for the descent as the Coppermines offer the most beautifully refreshing plunge pools en-route back to the village. Over and Out  

If you’ve got to this blog, you probably already know what we’re about and who we are. But in this field note, I set off wanting to talk about the process of design and how it works here at Summit Systems. Then, as I started to vomit some words into a Google Doc, I realised it wasn’t really the process I wanted to talk about at all. It was the passion for design itself, and for building something with my three mates. Hopefully, it might inspire someone else to create something from the madness that wakes them from their dreams. Design. I’d argue it’s the most important process in the business - although Tomo would probably waffle on about some marketing BS (sorry, Tomo). Before Summit Systems, I had a solid job. One that would be the dream for most people. I finished at 11:00 on Fridays (yep, 11:00 a.m.), got to travel a fair bit, and had genuinely sound bosses, for the most part! There was hardly ever a dull moment in the office, now whether that’s a good thing or not is another story. I had the freedom to design new products, and was rarely stopped if I spent a day sat at a sewing machine because I couldn’t face another one in front of a computer screen. But the problem was, it wasn’t ours. As a designer, I’ve always craved to make things. To finish the day with something tangible you can hold on your hands at the end of it. And although I often had that opportunity, it never felt like those products were mine. At the old job, there were days I’d get properly psyched about a new design tweak or a product concept. I’d go to bed thinking about it. For a lot of people, having work on their mind at bedtime might sound like a nightmare, but for me, that’s great. Design is my passion and the day I stop going to bed thinking about my designs will be the day I pack it all in and go into designing road signs. But it turns out that going to sleep with ideas on your mind is the bare minimum. Until Summit Systems, I never understood that the real excitement, the ideas that make your pulse race, come from the dreams that wake you up. I’ve been wanting to write a field note about my design process for a while, but I wasn’t sure what bits of knowledge I wanted to pass on, what key aspects I felt to be most important or could be most useful to you. I’m only 28, so it’s not like I’ve got any deep philosophical wisdom to bestow in the grand scheme of things. But then, after a long day on CAD producing technical tent drawings on another random day of working on a Summit Systems project , I woke up at 04:30 with an idea about how we could make tents clip together so you can chat to your mates when it’s pissing it down outside. But that moment,  half-asleep, half-alive with excitement, that’s when it hit me. True passion isn’t going to bed with something on your mind. It’s waking up because of it. Summit Systems was built on that kind of restless energy, the ideas that don’t let you sleep, the sketches drawn on the back of receipts, the half-baked prototypes that somehow work better than the “proper” ones. That’s what drives us onward. We started Summit Systems in the car, on a trip up to Scotland from just spitballing ideas of names and what we wanted to bring to the outdoor space. Design isn’t just our job; it’s the thing that drags us out of bed at stupid o’clock with a head full of ideas and a notebook that can’t keep up. So if there’s something that wakes you before your alarm - an idea, a problem, a wild dream that won’t let go - go and grab it. That’s where the good stuff lives. That’s where we will be. Or you’ll be seeing my road signs when you’re out and about. Over and out.