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.

 

Igloos in Glen Affric and a magical winter mountain day, again

The igloos

Back in 2018 I went to Glen Affric with members of the Inverness Backcountry Snowsports Club (see this post). The weather had started stormy but finished glorious. Now some four years later we were returning and hoping for similar weather. There had been no igloos since 2018. Every weekend planned in 2019 was cancelled due to lack of snow or appalling weather and then came the pandemic.

This was my first overnight trip of the year due to the hand operation I had in December and the recovery time needed. As last time I decided to arrive the evening before everyone else and camp – I’ll do anything to avoid having to get up early! I was intending to camp anyway rather than sleep in an igloo. I’m still supposed to wear a splint on my hand at night and its Velcro attachments are noisy. In a tent on my own I’d have no concern about disturbing anyone.

Due to some last-minute magazine work I didn’t leave until late  for the two-hour drive and only started walking just before midnight. Since my last visit a new path had been built up through the woods and into Gleann nam Fiadh. Following this by headlamp as it wound up and down through shadowy trees made the initial walk rather more interesting than the expected trudge up the hydro road in the glen. There was no snow down here. The path eventually joined the road and soon afterwards I started looking round for somewhere to camp. Sodden boggy ground replete with big tussocks didn’t appeal and it was a while before I found somewhere that looked passably comfortable. I was so tired by now I didn’t think I’d have a problem sleeping.

Early morning mountains

And sleep I did. For about five hours. Not enough but there were igloos to build, and the mountains were shining in the early light. However, by the time I was dressed and breakfasted clouds were building and thickening. 

Rain approaching

A party approached up the track, carrying skis. The rest of the igloo group. An offer was made to carry my IceBox, that wonderful igloo-building tool from Grand Shelters and my friend Igloo Ed in far-off Colorado. I accepted. My pack, a test one that was heavy when empty, a tent that wasn’t that light, my snowshoes (I didn’t fancy carrying even heavier ski gear up to the high snowline), and other stuff meant a 22kg load when I set off. I couldn’t remember when I’d last carried such a weight and it was nearly three months since my last overnight trip anyway. 

Wet tent

Just after the others set off and I started packing it began to rain quite heavily. I was not pleased. This wasn’t forecast! It ceased as I started up the track though and although some clouds remained there was no more rain. Steep, rough, boggy, pathless slopes led into lower Coire an t-Sneachda – the corrie of the snows. Climbing these was hard work. The angle started to ease at a new deer fence. A rickety gate/ladder construction provided a way over. Beyond I could finally don the snowshoes and link big snow patches up to the others, who had just started building two igloos on a slope of deep snow.

The igloos begin to take shape

It's never easy to predict how long igloo building will take. Much depends on the snow. This time it took rather longer than we’d hoped. I think one reason was that there was a thick layer (maybe 50cms) of rock hard, icy old snow just below a much thinner layer of soft snow. Breaking through this hard layer and smashing it up so it could be used to make blocks was hard work and took time. But although it was quite late in the evening the two igloos were completed. 

Almost finished

 

I’d taken a break from shovelling snow to pitch my tent a short distance away on some boggy ground. Flatter and with a fine view it was a better site than the previous night’s and after the exertions of load carrying and igloo building I slept well, waking to a dark red dawn that soon gave way to a deep blue sky. The dawn temperature was -4°C. Within half and hour of the sun appearing it had risen by 10 degrees. 

Dawn begins

 

Dry tent

At the igloos the others were up too and breakfasting outside in the sunshine. One, Nicki, had already departed, rising long before dawn, just as she had in 2018. A mountain rescue team member, she was due in Torridon later in the day for training. That’s commitment! 

Igloo breakfast

Of the five of use left, Cat, Alan, and Chris were on skis, whilst Andy, like me, had brought snowshoes. We all headed up Toll Creagach, the Munro on whose slopes we’d spent the night, in the now warm sunshine. The snow was crusty and icy in places. If I hadn’t had snowshoes with crude crampons underfoot and serrated metal edges I’d have been wearing actual crampons. 

Summit view

Another summit view

On the summit we had a view that was just as spectacular as the one four years earlier, the mountains looking alpine under the blue sky. The only difference was the wind, which was cold. In 2018 we’d had no need for hats, gloves, or even jackets. This time I was glad to don my insulated jacket so I could keep warm whilst admiring the view.

A skier swoops

The skiers swooped down the slopes and vanished. We plodded slowly behind them. That was the only time I wished I’d brought my skis. I’d have hated carrying them though, for just a few minutes of descent. 

Returning to the igloos

Collecting all our gear Andy and I continued down to the forest fence on snowshoes, then on foot down the boggy slopes to the magnificent old pines of Glen Affric. In the sunshine in this green world spring didn’t seem so far away. Higher up it was still winter. But maybe not for long. 

The forest

After four years it felt tremendous to return to igloo building. Thanks to everyone who took part and especially Andy Ince, who organised the event, as always.

Another summit view

Tent view

Igloo