Still wintry on Cairn Gorm

Stormy to the west

Late February and the Cairngorms don’t look very wintry from afar. Only patches of snow can be seen. But the lack of snow doesn’t mean a lack of winter high up as I found on a walk over Cairn Gorm.

Artificial snow slope

Lower down there really isn’t much snow. Just above the car park in Coire Cas a short strip of white stood out from the brown slopes, artificial snow made by the ugly snow machine whirring away noisily just below. Skiers queued for a drag lift to take them to the top of the slope. I’m sure they were having fun but it all looked rather sad.

Cairn Lochan

The ascent of the Fiacaill a’ Choire Chais was mostly on dry ground with only the occasional spot of snow or ice. But the ground was frozen and the cliffs of Coire an t-Sneachda and Coire an Lochain were white. I met many groups of climbers descending. Conditions were good, one told me. I met several more at the top of the ridge, removing crampons before the descent.

Stob Coire an t-Sneachda

The weather was calm with bursts of sunshine though out to the west thick clouds were boiling up. I’d had all clothing zips open and my head and hands bare on the ascent and I still felt a little too hot. The gentle but cold breeze blowing across the Cairngorm Plateau soon cooled me down when I stopped for a hot drink and a snack after the climb. Hat and gloves were soon on and all zips closed.

The Cairngorm Plateau

The Plateau was speckled, with much dark rock and gravel amidst patches of snow and ice. I could see tiny figures in the distance. Ben Macdui was in cloud. East was sunny and bright, west stormy and dark.

Icy!

Ice lay between the stones. Just below the western slopes of Cairn Gorm a wide band of it rippled over the ground, snow that had started to thaw and then frozen hard. Reaching it I decided it was time for crampons. I’d picked my way across the stones this far but that looked much more difficult here. The crampons gave their usual confidence. I stopped being so careful and headed straight up to the summit, the few deviations necessary were to avoid stones rather than ice.

Cairngorm Weather Station

The Cairngorm Weather Station was rather sparely clad in frost and ice. It’s often a mass of white at this time of year. A few people were sheltering behind it.

Beinn a' Bhuird

I had thought of staying on the summit for the sunset but out west the sky was dark and the clouds were approaching, Cairn Lochan now hidden. To the east it was still sunny, Beinn a’ Bhuird a long bright white wall of snow.

There was more snow on the north-east side of the mountain and I linked large patches quite a way down Sron an Aonaich (aka Windy Ridge) before they ran out and I stopped to remove my crampons.

Muirburn

Away to the north-east I could see a thick plume of smoke from muirburn on the flanks of the Cromdale Hills. This burning of heather, killing insects, reptiles and more, and preventing any other plants from growing just so rich people can enjoy slaughtering grouse always infuriates me. 

Stac na h-Iolaire

Much closer and better for my mood the low sun was turning snow free Stac na h-Iolaire golden brown and sent long rays across the slopes towards Ben Avon. Turning back I could see the clouds had reached Cairn Gorm. There would be no sunset up there.

View west

There was lower down though. Out west the sun shone below the clouds turning a narrow band of sky orange. Down in Strathspey mist was forming.

Mist in Strathspey

The sun made a brief appearance before setting, a last surge of colour. I reached the car without needing my headlamp, just.

Last of the sun

A Local Ski Tour

View over the mist to the Cairngorms

With the snow lying deep all around I’ve been ski touring in the local area. There’s no need to go further afield and it seems sensible to make the best of these conditions while they last.

In the mist

My longest ski tour took me from the garden gate through woods and onto the low moorland at the head of our little side glen. Not high up and not very far but the snow made it wild and beautiful, enhanced by skiing out of thick mist into sunshine.

Hot in the woods!

The hardest skiing was at the start when I crossed a very rough field and went through equally rough woods. As the temperature was well below freezing I set off in hat, gloves, and fleece plus a Paramo smock. After ten minutes off came hat, gloves and fleece and I opened all the vents on the smock as I was overheating from the effort of skiing in the deep soft snow and over many tussocks.

In the woods the terrain was even tougher. I had to take a circuitous route round many fallen trees and negotiate branches and stumps hidden under the snow. Skis weren’t ideal for this. Snowshoes would have been better.

Silent and frozen

The woods were frozen and silent. Whenever I paused I could hear nothing. There were many roe deer tracks in the snow. A line of fox prints. The marks of a squirrel. But nothing moved. No rustle in the undergrowth, no bird calls.

Once I came out of the trees and joined an estate track the skis came into their own. The snow was packed harder here, especially where there were some tractor tracks, and other skiers had been along the first section. I could kick and glide on the flat and coast down the few gentle downhills.

The air was colder put in the open and I wasn’t working as hard so back on went the hat and gloves and I closed the vents on the smock. Staying comfortable – not too hot, not too cold – is important.

Leaving the mist

As I skied along the track hazy hills and trees began to appear. I was slowly climbing out of the mist. The moon hung high in the sky. Soon I could look back down at the mist-filled glen. The Cromdale Hills started to appear and then the more distant Cairngorms, lit gold by the low sun.

View over the mist to the Cromdale Hills

At the top of the track I stopped for a hot drink and a snack. Almost instantly I felt chilly and quickly donned my down jacket. Although only a half-day trip from home I had brought my usual winter hiking gear, apart from ice axe and crampons which I knew I wouldn’t need.

A welcome rest

Finding a comfortable seat with my back against a rock I decided to make a little video about the ski tour and set up my tripod and camera. As I switched on record two jets roared overhead, the first sounds other than the swish of my skis. They couldn’t have timed it better. Eventually the jets faded away and I continued the video. I’ll post it soon.

Heading back into the mist

The temperature was -5°C when I decided to pack up and head down the track. Swishing along my ski tracks was easy and delightful. A wren bobbed in a bush, a flock of fieldfares flapped overhead, the only wildlife I saw all day. Soon I was back in the mist.

At the track end I decided to return home via the road rather than back through the woods as it would be easier. The single-track road had been ploughed and gritted several days ago but not since and I was able to ski along it much of the way. Then it was up our track through the woods to a warm fire and hot chocolate.

Days of Frost & Beauty

Sunset, Friday 13th

The weather is changing. After four days of cold and calm the clouds are thickening, the temperature rising, and the wind starting to blow. The magic of frost and ice and winter sharpness is fading. For now. It will return. It’s still a week to the winter solstice.

Venus, birch, mountains

The first frost came on an evening of serene beauty, the blue sky fading into black, the bright white dot of the planet Venus in the sky, a half-moon rising. The temperature soon fell below freezing. It was to stay there the next three days.

Dawn came with a white world, frost decorating every stem of grass, every twig. Only the conifers escaped, staying mostly dark and sombre.

The Cairngorms

The mountains looked magnificent, shining and bright. I longed to climb up there, into that snowy world, but I couldn’t as I’m recovering from a bad cold and getting used to new medication following an unexpected overnight stay in hospital. Instead I wandered the local woods and fields, admiring the beauty of the frost and crunching over the hard frozen ground.

Silver & gold

The world was not just cold and silver, it was also warm and gold at the same time as the low sun cut across the landscape, lighting the trees and hills with a pale glow. Glorious, just glorious.

Sgor Gaoith & Sgoran Dubh Mor

Feeling a little recovered the day the weather changed, Friday 13, I went up little Tom Mor, a local hill. The temperature was only a touch above freezing but the frost had already gone. The mountains were beginning to sink into clouds, the snow on their flanks already streaked with dark bare ground as the thaw set in.

Cairngorms fading & thawing

A cold wind swept the summit. I sheltered behind the huge cairn – far bigger than on most much higher hills – for a hot drink. The sky turned fiery red and orange, a spectacular sunset.

On Tom Mor

As the colours faded I turned and headed down into the growing darkness. Soon I switched my headlamp on, picking out the patches of ice on the track. All was silent. All was dark, A winter’s night. I love walking by headlamp. Although less than a mile from home as the crow flies it felt remote and wild. Occasionally a distant car’s lights shone briefly. Otherwise I was enveloped in darkness.

Frost in the forest

Winter comes to the Glens & Mountains

The Lairig Ghru from Creag an Leth-choin

The first long cold spell of the winter has arrived, bringing snow and ending the mild weather of the first half of November. For those of us who love snowy mountains this is exciting. I’ve been out twice since the weather changed, once on a short local stroll, once up into the mountains. Both were wonderful.

The snow falls

As I write this snow is falling, gently, softly. It began two nights ago. We woke in the morning to a light scattering in the garden, the first of the winter that hasn’t melted almost immediately. The skies started to clear and bouts of sunshine did thaw snow exposed to its rays but in shady areas it remained, the temperature staying below freezing. Squalls swept in frequently, bringing short bursts of new snow. The forecast is for a week of cold, with heavier snow at times.

Snow crossing the Cromdale Hills

In the afternoon we went for a stroll across the fields, watching dark snow-dense clouds power across the landscape. For a few minutes snow fell on us as the distant hills vanished, then as quickly passed on.

The sun about to set

The snow came from the north. Towards the low sun the sky was mostly clear and its rays shone across the land and illuminated the racing clouds, creating an ethereal golden hue. Magical, glorious, special winter light.

Cairn Lochan

The next day I went up into the Cairngorms. The air was freezing and there was a thin covering of snow, thicker higher up. The Cairngorm Plateau came and went in rolling white clouds with a deep blue sky above. Not feeling like walking in the mist I headed for the slightly lower rocky peak of Creag an Leth-choin (aka Lurcher’s Crag), reaching it via  Miadan Creag an Leth-choin, which is actually 30 metres higher but is only an undistinctive though extensive gentle bump on which it’s easy to get disorientated in mist.

Looking down into the Lairig Ghru

Rather than climbing directly to Creag an Leth-choin I wandered over to the western edge where steep slopes fall dramatically into the Lairig Ghru pass far below. In places broken crags abut the rim, today plastered with snow and rime ice.

Sgor Gaoith & Sgoran Dubh Mor

Across the Lairig Ghru I looked over the steep crags on the side of Sron na Lairige, a ridge that leads to Braeriach, to the equally rugged undulating curve from Sgor Gaoith to Sgoran Dubh Mor, a grand winter scene.

Cairn Gorm

Turning east four more ridges ran diagonally across the landscape, culminating in the cloud-shrouded summit of Cairn Gorm. That hill never showed itself all day.

Frosted rocks above the Lairig Ghru on Creag an Leth-choin

Surprisingly the cold breeze that had accompanied me to the Miadan faded away and it was calm though very cold on Creag an Leth-choin. My thermometer said -7°C. I lingered for a while, relishing the view and the feeling of winter while warming myself with hot, spicy, ginger cordial.

A last look across Miadan Creag an Leth-choin to the Lairig Ghru

Descending into shadow as the sun disappeared behind the hills I noted the bubbling of ice along the burns and frost feathers on the grass. The snow in Lurcher’s Gully was almost deep enough to warrant snowshoes. With much more forecast maybe I’ll need those next time, or even bring skis. Winter has begun.

A burn begins to freeze

Winter's On The Way - Link to Posts on Winter Skills & Gear

Two years ago I posted a blog with links to pieces on winter skills and gear. As we're entering the winter season and there will soon be snow (I hope) here it is again.

October Snow in the Cairngorms

"It's like the North Pole!" The Cairngorm Weather Station

Snow has been lying high in the Cairngorms for the last few days so I thought I’d go up and have a look. Snow in October isn’t unusual. It also isn’t unusual for it to thaw and then no more fall for several weeks or even a couple of months. Snow now is no indication of the type of winter to come. With warmer temperatures forecast the next few days I expect this early touch of winter will soon be over.

The snow had fallen down to 600 metres but had mostly thawed at this level. Freezing conditions had then frozen the melt water and formed icy patches on the path up the east ridge of Coire na Ciste and there was verglas on some stones. I soon learnt not to tread on the latter as the thin veneer of ice was impossible to see. Much more and I’d have worn the micro spikes I was carrying. However as soon as I reached the freezing level the slipperiness disappeared. The snow and the rocks were dry. Higher up the snow had drifted and was shin deep in places, barely covering the stony ground in others.

On the ascent.View across Coire Laogh Mor.

The sky was overcast but the clouds were high, well above the summits, and quite thin – occasionally the hazy white disk of the sun appeared. The intermittent breeze was bitterly cold. This was winter.

As Cairn Gorm came into view I could see a few people descending the main path, the first I’d seen. I shared the summit with just one other walker who looked up at the rime ice clad weather station and called out “it’s like the North Pole!”.

I wandered round for a short while looking at the views and taking photographs. Handling the camera with just thin gloves on froze my hands and before heading down I changed to thicker ones. I had my hood up over my wool hat and there was ice in my beard.

Ben Macdui

Across the frozen Cairngorm Plateau clouds touched the summit of Ben Macdui. Across the rocky Northern Corries Braeriach was backed by a line of undulating white cloud with solid grey above it. All was colourless, cold and hard. But still grand and harshly beautiful. I love this landscape.

View across the Northern Corries to Braeriach

Turning away I descended the same way. Once out of the bitter breeze I stopped for a snack and a hot drink, sitting on my pack. A walker passed me also heading down, grunting a brief hello. He didn’t look happy. Probably because he was carrying skis. I’d seen nowhere with enough snow for more than a few turns. The air had warmed slightly lower down and the ice had melted off the rocks and was crunchy rather than slippery on the path.

The first day out in winter conditions each autumn always feels significant, the start of a different outdoor season.

A Wander In The Winter Cairngorms

Stag Rocks, Loch Avon, & Beinn Mheadhoin

Winter made a return of sorts to the Cairngorms last week with lower temperatures and a few falls of snow after many days of thawing and warmth. With a forecast for fine weather I headed up to the Cairngorm Plateau hoping to wander around without having to fight high winds or navigate through the mist. The air was warm and still enough on the ascent to soon see me stripped down to a baselayer, for the first time since late last summer. Once I reached the Plateau it was a little colder and I donned a light fleece jacket, though I still didn’t need a shell jacket. It felt more like May than February.

Cloud crossing Stob Coire an t-Sneachda

High thin clouds floated across the sky, occasionally descending to brush the tops. The sun shining through them creating a slightly unusual brownish tinge to the air. The snow cover was very mixed. On east facing slopes and in the corries there was total cover, in places quite deep, while on ridges and tops there was just a few inches of soft wet new snow scattered about, with much heather, grass and rock showing through. In places under the fresh snow lay hard and slippery old snow and on one traverse across the side of a corrie I had my ice axe out for security. Mostly though trekking poles were all that I needed to stay upright.

The Cairngorm Plateau with Hell Lum's Crag on the right

Along the edges of the Northern Corries there were many walkers and climbers enjoying the calm weather. Once I headed away from there I was soon alone and only I saw a few others in the distance until I returned. My plan was to visit the cliffs above Loch Avon and follow round their tops, as far as possible, to where the Feith Buidhe stream begins its crashing descent, and then maybe further before crossing the Plateau back to the Northern Corries.

Stag Rocks & Loch Avon

Big snowfields in Coire Raibert led to Stag Rocks and my first view of Loch Avon. The contrast between the warm brown cliffs just next to me and the cold blue-white snowy eastern slopes across the loch was extreme. Two different worlds.

Stag Rocks, Loch Avon, & Beinn Mheadhoin

Contouring round into Coire Domhain I watched a party descending to the snow holes built here whenever there’s snow. Over the top of Hell Lum’s Crag and down to the Feith Buidhe through a chaos of snow and boulders – care needed here as holes between the rocks were hidden by snow that often wasn’t solid. A thick band of snow hung over the steeper slopes below. I stayed off that, unable to see how much of it was a cornice.

The Feith Buidhe

I could hear the roar of the Feith Buidhe as it began its thundering fall to the Loch Avon basin far below, the force of the water breaking through the ice and snow that hid the stream in the much flatter ground to the west. Here the terrain looked harsh and Arctic, a wasteland of snow and rock.

Beinn Mheadhoin, Carn Etchachan, & the Shelterstone Crag

This rim above Loch Avon is a favourite place, a dramatic mountain fortress. I spent much time looking, ambling about between viewpoints, going as near the edge as I dared, taking photographs.

The upper basin of the Feith Buidhe with Braeriach in the distance

As daylight would now be gone in a few hours I turned up the Feith Buidhe and then cut across to the path traversing the eastern slopes of Cairn Lochan, today a trench in the snow made by walkers going to and from Ben Macdui.

View across the Cairngorm Plateau to Cairn Toul & Sgor an Lochain Uaine

On Stob Coire an t-Sneachda climbers were coiling their ropes. I was back amongst people, the last ones of the day heading for the Fiacaill a’ Choire Chais and descent to the Coire Cas car park. Clouds were rolling in now but out to the west the sun was sinking below them, a searing gold and orange.

Approaching sunset

I reached the car just before it was dark enough to need my head torch. When I turned on the car headlights I was momentarily puzzled by white streaks falling through the brightness. Then I realised. It had started snowing.