April Snow on Creag Meagaidh

Camp in Coire Ardair

High pressure building. Wind dropping. Clear skies. The forecast for the Cairngorms looked good. My friend Tony Hobbs arranged to come up from England for his third trip this winter to gain experience in snow in the mountains. There was still some left high up, as often in April. The first trip, in January, we had crossed the Moine Mhor and camped in the snow but hadn’t needed to use ice axes or crampons, something Tony was keen to do. On the second trip in February high winds had prevented us even reaching the snow.

Once arrangements were confirmed the forecast began to change until strong winds and fog were forecast despite the high pressure. The weather looked better further west so I suggested Creag Meagaidh, almost as high as the Cairngorms and still likely to have snow.

Lochan a' Choire

Late on a cloudy, breezy afternoon we walked up Coire Ardair to Lochan a’ Choire below the huge impressive Creag Meagaidh cliffs, still encouragingly splattered with snow, where I’d camped many times before. Not this evening though. The few places flat enough for a tent were sodden, oozing water at every step. We retreated back down the path and soon spotted what looked a suitable spot on the other side of the Allt Coire Ardair. With care we crossed the rushing water on mostly submerged rocks, managing not to get water over the tops of our boots. The area we’d seen was dry in places and fairly flat. It would do.

Dusk

The view up the corrie to the cliffs was magnificent. However a cold wind sweeping down the corrie meant we pitched our tents facing the other way.  The sky was cloudy but began to clear at dusk, the sky briefly turning pink and orange. Later a moon started to pierce the thinning clouds. It’s light soon dimmed though as the clouds thickened again. The night was quite warm, with a low of 4°C. A gusty breeze blew.

No need to hurry! Tony has a brew.

At dawn mist covered the top of the cliffs. The forecast was for a clearance in the afternoon and sunshine by 4pm. A good excuse for another brew and a slow morning. It was after noon when we finally set off back up the corrie to the lochan. The joys of the long hours of spring daylight!

Tony reaching the top of the steep snow in The Window

The way on to Creag Meagaidh leads up a wide rocky gully known as The Window. It’s just a steep walk but can require the use of ice axe and crampons when filled with snow. This day the lower section was snow free but at the top we had to climb a snow slope. There were big steps from previous walkers and the snow was soft. Even so we used our ice axes, a good opportunity for Tony to use his for the first time.

Tony going through The Window

At the top of The Window we met a walker coming down from Creag Meagaidh. Mist up there, he said, and lots of snow. He was right about the latter but not the former for us. As forecast the clouds began to lift and although the sky was dark the summit was clear. The sun began to appear, right on cue. Also as forecast there was a strong cold wind though so we didn’t linger.

Tony and his dog Lassie on the summit

We did stay high for a while, relishing the feeling of space on the vast Creag Meagaidh plateau and enjoying the views of other peaks fading into the hazy distance. From the summit we crossed big snowfields to Puist Coire Ardair on the edge of the cliffs and then less snowy terrain on the gentle descent to Sron a’ Choire. 

Descending snowfields to Puist Coire Ardair

The views from the edge of Coire Ardair were superb but the wind rushing up from below was ferocious and we mostly kept back from the edge.

View down to Lochan a' Choire. The Window is the notch in the centre.

Steep boggy slopes with a few snow patches led back down into Coire Ardair and a walk back up the corrie to our tents. A great late winter day.

Dawn

That night the sky did clear, the temperature falling to just below zero. The strong wind that had me lowering the edges of my tent to keep it out was gone by dawn. I woke to cliffs glowing golden brown as the sun rose. Glorious, glorious light!

Walking out. (Thanks to Tony for taking the photo).

Without time to do anything more we packed up and walked back down the path to the cars, satisfied.

In camp (thanks to Tony for taking the picture)

Tony in the Window

Crossing the snow on the plateau

Cornices on the cliffs

View to Stob a' Choire Mheadhoin and Stob Coire Easain

Golden dawn light

 

Exploring Creag Meagaidh

Moonlit camp

The great plateau of Creag Meagaidh in the heart of the Highlands is a massive complex mountain worthy of much exploration. I’ve climbed it many times in both summer and winter, on foot and on skis, and I still have much to see. With that in mind I headed there just a few days ago intent on a night out high on the mountain and a visit to one of the huge corries that bite into the mountain’s flanks that I’d never entered before.

Coill a'Choire

Spring is a favourite time for Creag Meagaidh as the birch woods that grace its southern flanks and are now advancing fast up the slopes of Coill a’Choire, their regeneration a great success story since the Creag Meagaidh National Nature Reserve was set up, are bright and fresh with new leaves. It’s a long but always lovely walk up through the woods and then out of the trees and past moraine hummocks towards the sombre cliffs of Coire Ardair, which were still spattered with snow. Below the rock walls the dark waters of Lochan a’Choire rippled in a gentle breeze. I climbed past the cliffs up the broad stony gully leading to the prominent cleft known as The Window. Here there were big snow patches but ones easily avoided. Looking across the broken crags of the long north face of the mountain I could see many more.

The Creag Meagaidh plateau

 

A short steep pull led up to the vast summit plateau and then it was over the short grassy ground, boggy from recent snowmelt, to the summit. The views were extensive, sharp and clear to the north and west, haze to the south and east. The sun shone down, as it had all day, but up here there was also a cold east wind. Near the summit cairn three dotterel skittered across the stones, lovely birds that speak of the high places.

The summit

 

Heading south from the summit I descended the gently sloping plateau to the headwaters of the long Moy Burn, its shallow gully packed with snow. A patch of grass had enough soil for tent pegs and my camp was soon set up with a view west over many hills to distant Ben Nevis. 

Moonset

 

An almost-full moon rose into the sky, giving enough light to wander around without need of a headlamp. The cold air soon had me in my sleeping bag though. Before I fell asleep there was frost on the tent and ice in my water bottles. In the morning my Kestrel weather tracker said the overnight low was -3.7°C. A stronger colder wind, now from the west, and a temperature a touch below zero made me glad of my down jacket. Out to the west the moon sank below the hills as the sun began to light the hills.

A chilly morning

A short stroll from camp led to the cliff top rim of Coire Choille-rais. Out to the east hills faded into greyness. Below, the lochan that fills the corrie was a dark lozenge. The craggy slopes above glowed gold in the early sun. A waterfall below a snowfield caught the sun and sparkled brightly. A scene both wild and peaceful.

Coire Choille-rais

 

My way led down beside the Moy Burn into long curving Moy Corrie. Crags rose above on one side, very steep scree and grass slopes on the other. After the space of the plateau there was a closed-in feel here. The burn bubbled and splashed, tumbling over little cascades, sliding down smooth slabs, slowing in deep, rich brown pools. A typical Highland hill stream. The glen was typical too, a mix of boulder-strewn coarse grasses and rushes, mostly brown and grey, summer colour still to come. The ground was boggy in places, with much trampling by deer visible. I saw none of these but their presence was shown by the lack of trees as well as the tracks. The glen felt empty and lacking in life after Coill a’Choire.

The first trees didn’t appear until I was in the mouth of the corrie and beginning to follow the southern edge of the mountain back to my start point. At first there were just a few high on crags and deep in gullies then birches began to appear on gentler slopes and soon there was an old wood of widely scattered trees. At first I saw no new growth but then patches of dense small birches were visible. The wood was renewing itself. The trees brought bird song as well. Chaffinch, blackbird, wren and more. 

View over Loch Laggan to the Cairngorms

 

Further new woodland with a view over the surprisingly bright blue of Loch Laggan to the distant Cairngorms led down to the finish. I knew Creag Meagaidh a little more. And knew there was far more. I’ll be back.

A Night On Creag Meagaidh

Hot weather in the Highlands might seem the ideal time for wild camping. And it is, as long as you can find somewhere breezy to keep off the midges. That means a high camp and a windy forecast. These two came together a few nights ago on Creag Meagaidh, that massive plateau mountain in the Central Highlands. I’d been thinking of camping on the summit for many years. This seemed the perfect time to actually do so. Up high I hoped the temperatures wouldn’t be too high for comfortable sleep while the predicted wind should keep off the midges.

 

View back to Coire Ardair

Wanting to avoid the steep climb to the plateau in the heat of the day I didn’t set off until the late afternoon. The initial walk through the lovely regenerating birch woods of lower Coire Ardair was energy sapping due to the high humidity and high temperature. However by the time I reached the lochan at the head of the corrie I was in shadow. The cliffs making up the back wall of the corrie still held a surprising amount of snow. I hope there would be more higher up.

After sunset on Creag Meagaidh

The steepest section of the climb over I returned to sunlight and a view of big snowfields strung out along the steep north side of the mountain. One of these would be my water source. As I crossed the plateau the sun subsided into distant clouds and the far hills turned hazy and grey. The promised breeze was sweeping the slopes, leading me to don long trousers and a windproof jacket as soon as I stopped. I made camp just 50 metres below the summit cairn.

Camp with Snowfield

Late in the evening as the sky grew dark and the first stars appeared I left the tent and climbed to the summit. All around hills faded into blackness. The breeze felt chilly now. Briefly as I set the camera on the tripod and began to take photographs the wind dropped. I felt the first bites seconds later and dived for the insect repellent. Thankfully the wind soon returned. It was after midnight before I slid into my sleeping bag and went to sleep. 

Still breezy in the morning

Dawn came softly with a hazy sun struggling through low clouds far to the east. The glens were filled with mist. Above camp the sky was clear. The night had been humid and the tent was soaked with dew and condensation. I was happy to wait for the sun to strengthen and dry it. This was not a place to leave quickly.

The early morning light became hard and harsh, losing its subtlety. The sun was high and hot and hammering down. I wandered back across the plateau and then walked the long fine ridge stretching out over Stob Poite Coire Ardair to Carn Liath. The wind kept me cool but every time I dipped into shelter I could feel the power of the sun. From Carn Liath I dropped down into the mouth of Coire Ardair. In the glen the air was sultry and heavy, the heat overpowering. Even descending felt arduous and I was soon dripping with sweat. My mind though was full of the high camp, of the glorious night on Creag Meagaidh. It had been a good trip.

A vast expanse