Snow and custard in the Cairngorms

Early February saw extra-curricular activity by a small band of Rockhoppers in the shape of six days of winter skills training in the Cairngorms. Organised by 2008 Rockhopper of the Year, Mountain Leader Dan, he was joined by the author, Squadron Leader Chris, Dan 'The Jazzman', Mike McH, and the Maltese Pitbull herself, Ruth. We managed to save a few bob by avoiding the package course and hiring the guide direct.

Leaving one lot of snow behind in London, it was 10 hours’ drive later on the A9 before we encountered our next lot. Things were starting to look wintry, there was snow across the road and we wondered how bad it would get. But the gritters were out in force, and we passed the Inverness to London National Express night coach early into its nocturnal journey and thought, if they can do it we can.

Destination was Aviemore and accommodation was the Aviemore Lodge, an attractive establishment from the outside but suffering from a fridge-like stairwell and with too many guests for its facilities to handle, hence a rather overburdened kitchen and a drying room which, to use the phrase, did exactly what it didn’t say on the tin, as we found to our dismay at the start of the second day when our wet gloves and garments were found to be just as wet. Our first evening was spent unpacking and performing a reconnaissance of the area, i.e. going to the pub next door. Dinner was courtesy of Dan L, clearly skilled at preparing a hearty stew for the rabble.

The next day we rose excited by the prospect of our first day on the hill. There had been recent heavy snowfall and daylight revealed a good two or three feet of the stuff. It was also very cold, around -10ºC some mornings during the week we were there, and -18ºC was recorded in Aviemore one night of our stay, the coldest place in the UK. It might have been this first morning that the first of our many conversations on glove systems was conducted.

Ron, our guide, arrived on time and we drove up past the frozen Loch Morlich to take our place in the line of cars queuing to get in to the car parks at the bottom of the pistes. It was Sunday and the place was crawling with skiers and snowboarders. Leaving the car and heading onto the slopes, we soon experienced the deep snow that would define our week and prevent us putting the skills we learnt into practice on a route. We walked a short distance up the hill and soon discovered how exhausting trail breaking is, particularly when the snow is up to one’s thighs. We resorted to lying on the snow and swarming up it, spreading our weight out to avoid sinking. The struggle and exertion had us all entertained at what thoroughly poor progress we were all making.

Half an hour later and about 200 m further up the hill, we set about learning how to build a snow cave. The process was similar to The Generation Game: Ron demonstrating with a perfect example, and us trying to emulate it will degrees of success. Various roof collapses and botch jobs later we had ourselves a little snow village and we ate our lunch in our individual caves, offering varying degrees of shelter. The day also saw us learning the art of snow bollards, the basics of avalanche assessment, and how to climb a slope in deep powdery snow. This is a surprisingly difficult skill to master, as the snow collapses underfoot, preventing progress. The art is to move smoothly and distribute one’s bodyweight as much as possible. The rest of the group thoroughly enjoyed watching Dan and Chris take 20 minutes to climb a five-metre slope, several times almost reaching the top before being cruelly swept back down by the collapsing powder.

A good day was had by all and that evening another delicious meal was served by the pipe-smoking Mr D. Tired by the physical day, some retired for an early night whilst others brought out the whisky…

The following day we walked further and made better headway towards the nearest cliff, Coire an t-Sneachda. We had been walking for a good hour and had warmed up and taken off layers. When we stopped, the wind chill took the temperature to about -20ºC, and within a few seconds we were frozen and anxious to get everything we had back on. Keeping active was a way of keeping warm so we got down with gusto to building buried ice axe anchors, bucket seats, and more snow bollards. The inevitable ice axe arrests section came next, and all possible positions in which one can find oneself hurtling down a mountainside were covered. The freestyle award went to Ruth with her innovative sitting position, with legs pointing up-slope and the axe thrust into the snow as far forward as possible. She didn't arrest but it looked great (award for most enthusiastic yells to Dan L).

Back at the ranch that evening and another wholesome dish, following by tinned steam pudding and the opening of the four litres of Ambrosia custard we bought in Carlisle. The group made a poor job of consuming it and we tried to give it away to anyone in the vicinity.

On the Tuesday we made better headway still towards the corrie and spent the day pitching a straightforward slope to the right of the corrie proper. Ron impressed upon us the importance of moving fast, and we made fair progress but were still pushed for time. We topped out onto the lower end of the Fiacaill ridge and into a strong wind. It wasn't blowing a hoolie, and wind speed was relatively moderate, about 50 mph at worst, but it felt like a gale and the ice in the air stung the face. It was good to leave the ridge for the shelter of the lower slopes, and we reached the cars as darkness fell.

Wednesday we were given light duties by Ron, with the aim of resting in anticipation of getting up a route or two on the next and final day. However, the elements conspired against us and it snowed overnight, filling up the trails, making reaching the corrie nigh on impossible, increasing the avalanche risk and likely making the routes full of snow and unclimbable. We reluctantly changed plans in favour of cross-country skiing. Ron's partner Fi (cover star of the Cairngorms climbing guide) joined us, and after a bit of practice we headed off on a tour of the tracks through the forest around Loch Morlich. The landscape was very beautiful with so much snow, the pine trees heavily laden and the rivers frozen at their shores. We emerged from the forest onto the frozen lake, providing a serene expanse of whites and greys. Some of us were more experienced in cross country skiing than others, with Mike quite an expert. The big advantage with this style rather than the downhill version is that one is often travelling on level ground and so more in control. Problems can arise when there is a hill or even a slight gradient, and there were some wonderful snowdives, the best without doubt provided by RM which happened to be recorded on my camera by a wonderful stroke of luck. I have the clip in my possession and am pondering what soundtrack to give it before posting it on YouTube.

And so to our final evening, which involved eating custard and talking about our next winter climbing trip. But mainly eating custard.

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