Igloos! Igloos! Igloos!

Wheee!

I love igloos. I love building them. I love living in them. I was reminded of all this by an excellent new podcast from John D. Burns in which he talks to Andrew Terrill about igloos and hot tents. Mostly it's about Andrew enthusing about igloos and talking about Igloo Ed and his brilliant IceBox igloo tool. It reminded me of all my igloo trips so I thought I'd indulge myself and write about them again and post some of the pictures.

Igloo Ed outside our first igloo, Yellowstone, February 2007

It was Ed who started my love of igloos when he invited me on a trip to Yellowstone National Park back in 2007. It was a tough trip. Hauling heavy sleds through deep snow and up steep slopes. Building igloos late into the night (there were only two of us and I'd never built one before). Fording a thermally heated river in bitter cold. Temperatures below -30C. I loved it all! The combination of geysers and other thermal features, deep snow, and sub zero temperatures made it the strangest and most wonderful winter trip I've ever done. I wrote about it here.  

Igloo Ed outside our second igloo, Yellowstone, February 2007

My first night in an igloo amazed me. It was so comfortable - so much space, stillness, quiet. Very different to a tent. The warmth compared with outside surprised me too. -3ºC, with the stove going, -7ºC without when it was -23ºC outside.

First igloo and Lonestar Geyser on the second Yellowstone trip, February 2008

A year later I was back in Yellowstone with a group of Ed's friends. Unfortunately Ed was unwell and unable to take part. It was a great trip in easier conditions than the year before. 

Dawn after a night of snow at the second igloo, Wind River Range, April 2009

The following year we went to the Wind River Range, just south of Yellowstone. This was a spring trip and the warmer temperatures were welcome, though not when sticky snow stuck to the base of our sleds! We had company the first two nights then it was just myself and Ed.

Igloo Ed in our second igloo, Wind River Range, April 2009

By now, living in an igloo had become familiar and a pattern established. Comfort was assumed!

Igloo Ed at our third igloo, Wind River Range, April 2009

Our igloos were in spectacular situations on high points looking over the forest to the rugged Wind River mountains. I wrote about the trip here.

First Cairngorms igloo on the slopes of Carn Ban Mor, April 2010

That was my last igloo trip to the Rocky Mountains. However the next year saw the first igloo weekend in the Scottish Highlands with the Inverness Nordic Ski Club (now the Inverness Backcountry Snowsports Club) organised by Andy Ince. This became an annual event  (when there was enough snow and no lock-downs) on which I helped out with igloo building instruction and work. 

Waking to a blizzard we had to use compass bearings to find the descent route from these igloos on Carn Ban Mor in January 2011

Scottish Highlands snow not being as reliable as Rocky Mountains snow we had to be selective as to sites and times. There was usually only enough snow well above the glens too so stormy weather was more likely. 

On the slopes of Toll Creagach above Glen Affric, January 2012

As well as the Cairngorms we also went to Glen Affric where Andy knew there was often deep enough snow on the slopes of Toll Creagach.

After the thaw, February 2013

Only once did an igloo fail. That was on a trip where high winds prevented us reaching Carn Ban Mor and we built two igloos beside the path high above Glen Feshie. After dark the temperatures rose rapidly and a big thaw began. We'd built two igloos. The side of one collapsed and the four of us squeezed into the other one which just made it through the night. I wrote about it here. 

Igloo in sparse snow, Strath Nethy, Cairngorms, January 2013

Earlier the same year a group of use built an igloo on another stormy day when the weather kept us even lower down. There wasn't quite enough snow and we ended up dragging it to the igloo on plastic survival bags. The igloo was a success though.

The igloo meets went on each year, with a break due to the Covid lockdowns. Here's some more pictures.

Back on Carn Ban Mor in excellent weather and snow in April 2014

Not so much snow and not so good weather on Toll Creagach in February 2016. Successful igloo though.

Windy with spindrift for a pair of igloos in Coire Laogh Mor on Cairn Gorm in February 2017. Too stormy to go higher. 

Deep snow & perfect weather for igloos on Toll Creagach in February 2018. We reached the summit for once and had splendid views.

Four years later and a repeat on Toll Creagach in April 2022. Deep snow, perfect weather, and spectacular summit views again.

Rainbows, rain showers, and only just enough snow for our March 2023 igloos in Coire Laogh Mor. But we still built two plus a tiny solo one in which I slept.

A stormy approach followed by a superb day for the March 2024 igloos on Carn Ban Mor. For once I camped.

A brilliant starry night at the igloos on Carn Ban Mor in March 2024.

Igloos & Ski Touring on the Moine Mhor

The igloos & the tent

The annual Inverness Backcountry Snowsports Club igloo building trip took place on the last two days of March this year. These trips began back in 2010 after I’d given talks to the club on my adventures with Igloo Ed, designer of the IceBox tool we use to build the igloos, in the Rocky Mountains in Wyoming and some members were interested in building one in the Highlands. (I’ve posted about every igloo trip on this blog, here’s a link to that first one).

Sgor Gaoith from Carn Ban Mor

That first trip we built an igloo on the slopes of Carn Ban Mor on the Moine Mhor above Glen Feshie in the Cairngorms. This year we went back there for the first time in a decade. The snowline was quite high – about 750 metres – so we had to carry our skis a fair while before we could use them.

After the storm

Soon after we reached the snow the dark clouds that had been blowing across the sky thickened. Rain, then hail, then heavy wet snow began to fall. For a short while we were in a blizzard. With the snow sticking to our wet clothing it wasn’t pleasant but we were to be glad of the new snow the next day. 

Into the mist

Eventually the wind died down and the snow faded, leaving us continuing upwards in thick mist. We were aiming for a long shallow stream gully that began not far below the summit of Carn Ban Mor and which holds the snow well. We weren’t likely to miss it but even so we checked maps and took compass bearings.

Braeriach begins to appear

Slowly the mist began to dissipate and the shadowy hanging shapes of steep slopes on Braeriach began to appear. For a while the sun shone as the storm passed over Sgor Gaoith. Our gully appeared and we began to search for the deepest snow. Clouds still swirled across the sky, summits appearing and disappearing constantly.

Starting an igloo

A suitable site selected two IceBoxes were unstrapped from packs and igloo building began. The snow was soft and damp and made blocks easily. Even so it took many hours before the igloos were finished.

Cloud over Monadh Mor

The huge clouds were a distraction as they piled up into constantly shifting shapes catching the setting sun. Up there the wind was still roaring. I crossed the gully to shallower snow and flattened a site for my tent. I usually have to get up for a pee at least once a night (getting older!) and I sometimes read for a bit if I can’t get back to sleep so using a tent means I don’t disturb others. I can also lie in the tent and look at the stars. I do admit that if the weather was stormy I’d have been in an igloo though!

The igloos at night

After sunset the clouds cleared and there was a brilliant night sky, the stars sharp and bright. Across the gully headlamps lit the igloos before everyone settled in for the night.

My tent

Dawn came with a frost, beautiful light, and a chill breeze. Thin clouds quickly started streaking the sky and the brightness soon faded. Two people headed back down to Glen Feshie. The remaining four of us set off across the Moine Mhor plateau for Monadh Mor, a remote Munro.

The cornices

Soon after leaving the igloos we passed above a deep section of the gully overhung with cornices. Here one of my bindings came loose, the ski came off, sped unerringly towards a cornice, and disappeared over the edge. The only way to retrieve it was to descend below the cornices and then walk back up the gully. I hoped I could find it. I soon did and at least had a close-up view of the giant curls of snow hanging above.

Skis back together again. Thanks to Andy Ince for taking the photo.

I’d already thought I was unlikely to make it up Monadh Mor. I now wasn’t even going to try. I didn’t want to lose a ski again far out on the Moine Mhor. I might not find it this time. I also knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the others on the downhill from the summit, partly due to rusty skiing skills but mainly due to my mismatched boots and skis, the former being too light and soft to properly control the latter. Why was I using such a bad setup? Because in a year of looking I’ve failed to find any suitable replacements for my cracked and worn-out plastic boots. Nothing available is anywhere near wide enough for my feet. So I was back on my old leather boots from the 1990s. (For anyone interested I wrote about this in a couple of posts last year – here and here).

Heading for Monadh Mor

The others were on a mix of much more substantial gear – split board, ski mountaineering, heavy duty telemark.

Sgor Gaoith

The undulating terrain of the Moine Mhor was not a problem so I didn’t turn back until the slopes started to steepen and the ascent of Monadh Mor began. I enjoyed the gentle skiing, gliding over the snow, stopping to admire the clouds and mountains. The fresh snow was only a few inches deep and starting to thaw. It had fallen in the storms of the day before. Without those storms we’d have been walking across the Moine Mhor. Only in a few sheltered areas was there any older or deeper snow.

In the tent. Again, thanks to Andy for taking the photo

Back at camp I melted some snow for a drink and chatted to some ski tourers, curious about the igloos. Once the others returned we packed up and skied back across the shoulder of Monadh Mor and down the snow towards Glen Feshie, as far as it went. Then the skis were back on the packs and the long walk out began, straight into the now bright and hot afternoon sun. Soon jackets and hats came off, gaiter and trouser leg zips undone. Still too warm. This was shorts and t-shirt weather. I was glad of my leather boots now. Finally we reached the glen and then the cars and another successful igloo trip was over. I wonder where we’ll go next year and whether I’ll have found some new boots that fit.

 

Nicki doing the traditional standing on an igloo

Two fine igloos

Clouds

Sgor an Lochain Uaine & Cairn Toul almost appearing

Looking for a site in the stream gully

Carrying the IceBox

Following my last post about the igloo building trip I thought I'd post this picture of my pack with the IceBox strapped on to show how it can be carried. The IceBox isn't heavy - just 2.2kg - but it is quite wide and so only really fits on the back of a pack. 

The IceBox in use

There's much more information including videos on using the IceBox on the Grand Shelters website.

Building Igloos In The Rain

Igloos with rainbow

It didn’t rain all the time. Just when we were finishing the igloos. Before then there were some light showers that passed over quickly, leaving rainbows in their wake, a pleasant touch of colour on an otherwise grey day. Otherwise the only brightness came from our clothing.

An igloo begins to take shape

This was the annual Inverness Backcountry Snowsports Club igloo building weekend (well, intended to be annual, some years the weather or lack of snow has forced cancellations and there were of course the lockdowns). Ten of us had made our way through the heather and along strips of snow into Coire Laogh Mor where we found some deep enough snow patches. The weather was warm for mid-March and the forecast was for showers with fog and strong winds higher up. There’d been a big thaw the previous few days too. Not ideal conditions then but these trips are planned well in advance so we went anyway. We couldn’t always expect the wonderful conditions of the previous two trips in 2018 and 2022.

Igloo Ed in Yellowstone, 2007

I’ve been on these weekends since the first one in 2010, having inspired them with a talk I gave to the club, then called the Inverness Nordic Ski Touring Club, about an igloo ski trip in the Wind River Range of the Rocky Mountains that I made with the inventor of the IceBox we use to build the igloos, my friend Igloo Ed. I’d first skied with Ed and learnt to build igloos back in 2007 on the most extraordinary winter trip I’ve ever undertaken in Yellowstone National Park. The combination of thermal features – spouting geysers, clouds of warm steam, bubbling hot mud pots, warm rivers – and deep cold down to -36°C plus very deep soft snow was strange and memorable. 

Ed with our equipment, Yellowstone, 2007

Since 2010 I’ve been on every igloo building trip with the club and have posted about them all on this blog. They are one of the winter events of the year, even when conditions aren’t that good.

An igloo rises

The one advantage of the warmer weather this year was that the heavy wet snow was easily and quickly made into blocks so we were able to take our time and have plenty of breaks and still finish before dark.

My little igloo

I’d brought a tent, intending to camp as I’d done on a number of previous trips, leaving the igloos to those who’d never stayed in one before. However as we had three IceBoxes and making the igloos was so easy we built a little one just big enough for me. Two of the party were staying in their tent anyway so we ended up with three igloos of different sizes sleeping four, three and one.

Warm and dry inside

The rain and a damp evening precluded much in the way of outdoor sociability after the igloos were completed and we soon retreated inside to change into dry clothes and cook and eat. I ventured outside a couple of times, the first time to see the last of a red sunset over the bright lights of Aviemore, the second to a half-clear sky with the constellation Orion standing out, big and bright.

A comfortable home for the night

I’d only spent nights alone in an igloo once before, on that first trip with Igloo Ed, and I did enjoy the quiet and calm. Inside an igloo there’s no sense of the weather, no sound of wind, no flapping fabric, no rattle of rain on the flysheet. I felt relaxed and peaceful.

Igloos are strong

At dawn I was outside again, the air colder now, but a flurry of fine snow soon had me back in the igloo for another coffee. The snow shower soon passed and I took my coffee outside to join the others. Clouds were low down on the hills not far above and most people seemed happy to stay with the igloos a bit and then descend, as I did. The night had been just cold enough for the outsides of the igloos to freeze hard. Their strength was proven by people climbing on top. Two club members out for the day joined us and their dog provided entertainment by posing on top of the igloo too.

Dog on igloo

Thinking back to previous igloo weekends I remembered that the weather could be much worse. Back in 2013 one igloo half collapsed when the temperatures rose in the evening and wind and spindrift eroded away the walls, leaving four of us to sleep in a two-person igloo that just made it through the night. Two years before that, in 2011, we’d had a fine day building the igloos but had woken to a big storm and a near white-out. The plan of a day’s skiing was abandoned and we needed compass bearings to find the descent route.

By comparison a little rain and a grey sky wasn’t worth complaining about. We’d built igloos and slept in them. The weekend was a success.