By Lou B, John B, Mike H, Adrian F, Pete K & Kearton, aided by Phil C, Steve C & John H – March 2004

Early March saw an IMC trip to Scotland, with nine of us looking
forward to some serious winter mountaineering activity. Mike H did a
wonderful job of organising things, and re-organising at the last
minute for a late-comer. We stayed in Newtonmore. Being less than 30
minutes drive from the south-east Cairngorms and an hour from Ben
Nevis, this is a very convenient location. Apparently we were due to
stay in a bunk-house, but there must have been some problem with the
accommodation and we were actually put up in two rather luxurious (by
IMC standards) bungalows. Central heating – need I say more! It was so
good, we actually stayed in a couple of nights. Lou says “Thanks to
John Boy and Mike H for cooking up a couple of yummy dinners, and to
Steve for cooking my breakfasts, and to everyone else who did the
washing up. It is strange to see how well the lads can cope when they
have to fend for themselves!”

We flew to Glasgow Prestwick airport on the Wednesday night, which, as
usual for such cheap airports is the wrong side of Glasgow, so it was
2am before we managed to roll into bed on the first night. Needless to
say, it was not an early start the next day. We bimbled into Aviemore
to collect supplies, and bumped into Nigel Walker! Then on up to the
Cairngorm ski car-park and a trip to visit the ranger for weather and
avalanche forecast. The later was not good, so we pumped the ranger
for information. Funnily enough they are not keen on telling you what
to do!

Climbing Report

Day 1

The climbers found out that there was a short grade I/II ridge between
Coire an t-Sneachda and Coire an Lochain on Cairngorm. The climbing
party set up that, whilst the walkers went up the ridge on the east of
Coire an Lochain. Despite being little more than a scramble, Lou and
Mike still needed a rope for one section – Lou to get up it and Mike
to try out some more exciting grade II/III which he rather enjoyed.
Once we topped out, the cloud came in and Mike and Lou then discover
they are considered as the navigators of the party! Luckily the
visibility was never bad all weekend! The descent was mostly easy
apart from a rather ratty looking plywood ski-tow bridge, over which
Lou did a “bum glissade”, whilst Mike, rather more painfully twisted
his left (good) knee.

Day 2

Day 2 dawned bright and dry again. For those of us used to Scotland
this was a little un-nerving of course! The avalanche forecast however
was still high (3 out of 5). The climbing team set off back to Coire
an Lochain – this time to tackle a grade I route called “The Couloir”.
As we entered the coire a magnificent vista faced us, and a few of us
got somewhat scared by the options. It looked as steep as hell! It
also looked unstable. Lou said there and then that she was not going
as she had responsibilities, so she bimbled up to wait at the top. The
rest went to examine the problem more closely, with the understanding
that they could always chicken out and go up the snow slope to a col
at the right hand side of the coire.

Somehow, there was an IMC onslaught on The Couloir. After all it was
given a grade one in the guidebook so “What could go wrong?” And it
was possible to avoid the Great Slab and the Vent, the two avalanche
black-spots in that coire. After a hasty lunch we geared up and then
it was onwards and upwards. We all looked to Steve as the experienced
one in the group for advice, agreed that we were all concerned about
the risk of avalanche, and basically decided to skirt up the right
hand side of the gully seeking a bit of shelter from the snow chutes.
We studiously avoided the clear line of tracks heading straight up the
middle of the gulley! We – errrrr – thought that was asking for
trouble!

Anyway off we went making our merry way, nursing burning calves up the
slope. We were drawn as said to the extreme right hand side, and soon
we were well high in the gulley and already starting to feel more than
a little “exposed” as we looked down the gulley. After a little while
Steve (“our gallant leader”) came to a halt as he was sinking in the
snow almost to hip level and he could not make any headway because
every time he tried to step up, the snow just crumbled. I think he
turned pale at this moment. His colour didn’t return until after half
a bottle of wine that night. He stepped across and hastily dug a snow
pit [to test for avalanche risk]. It was OK at first, but when he got
through the top he got to some bad stuff which offered no support at
all, i.e., the axe just went though – and then Steve really started to
shit himself!

We looked at our options, decided to go down a bit after traversing
across the slope to the more avalanche prone-come-exposed area, and go
up that. Steve bravely committed himself to start the traverse, and
commented once he was a few metres across that he felt “Very alone!”
Anyway, our gallant leader made it across the worst bit and I followed
with the rest of the team in hot pursuit. We carried on upwards until
Steve, in trying to follow a rocky line (so that we could gain shelter
off a rocky buttress and then traverse into the couloir – we hadn’t
even reached the effin’ route yet!), was rebuffed. He could not go any
further, i.e., could not get his leg over.

Then Phil decided to lead traverse number two. After a few minutes
gingerly crossing the snow he said it was getting a “bit soft” but
nevertheless carried on. We followed (shitting ourselves) and
eventually joined the track of footprints which we had hitherto
studiously avoided because it was “dangerous.”

Now at long last we were at the base of the route! The approach was
bad enough but we were committed, and it was a long, long, long way
down. John Boy set off first and I quickly overtook him as I was off
and running in my haste to get out of there. There were four of us in
that gully running on 100% adrenaline – mighty strong stuff is that!
The couloir’s snow/neve was OK, but boy was it steep! It was now a
very long way down. The ice-axes were not going to stop a fall, and
that tends to get one’s minds extremely focussed!

I was first out the couloir. Phil joined me and we took the time to
take in the views and look at some mad bastards doing some serious
stuff in the “Savage Slit” area. Lou saw from our harrowed features
that we’d had an adventure and she had made the correct call, although
it perhaps took a few minutes for relief to set in! I looked at my
watch and saw it was only 2.15. To my surprise we had only spent about
an hour and three quarters of on the route, so it was not really an
epic but it was very spicy!!!

A quick post mortem (I use the term advisedly) confirmed as a result
of our caution we had made things difficult for ourselves – but we had
enjoyed ourselves…………… I think. It was then time to bag a
couple of Munroes as we headed back to the cars. The group split into
two with Steve, Lou and I choosing to extend our walk over Cairngorm
whilst John and Phil took a quicker route down. We got down to the ski
centre and found that our taxi was not there! (Mike was having the day
off as his knee was giving him gyp). He turned up half an hour later
and drove us to Glenmore Lodge for some medicine to soothe the frayed
nerve-ends – a grand day out!

Two days later, that corrie avalanched.

Day 3

We all decided to head west for a change of scenery. In order to
maximise the chances of finishing before her bedtime, Lou suggested
that we all be ready to start by 8am. Rather scarily, we were all
ready to start by 8am. So despite a map stop in Fort William, we drove
to Beinn a Bheithir just before the start of Glencoe and started
walking by 10am. Being the milder west coast, it was not totally
surprising that there was not much snow.

The climbing party set off for the Dragon’s Tooth, and easily made our
way out of the forest. It poured down as we reached decision point –
attempt to scrabble up the horribly steep hill to the start of the
climb or just go for a walk. We walked. We tested out the IMC bothy
tent at the col as there was a bit of a snow storm over lunch. That
was really good, so lunch was a leisurely affair! One word of advice
however, if you ever have to go into one, face the wind. I sat with me
head on my knees every time the wind blew strongly. The walk had some
good exposure towards the summit of the mountain, quite exciting in
descent I should think. And then the weather lifted and we had some
glorious views – including some of our line of descent, and I for one
was glad of that! Steep, but safe.

Day 4

Well, Steve’s feet are knackered, Mike’s and John’s knees are worse.
Lou’s wallet was burning. Guess what we did. And we were joined by the
rest of the walkers.

In the pub the night before, Phil and John Boy had been discussing
plans for a quick climb before coming home – the plans were well
lubricated. Luckily Phil and John kept missing each other in the
morning, so we were able to persuade each of them that the other was
still up for it, so off they went and did a good blitz up a slightly
“boney” Jacob’s Ladder in Coire an t-Sneachda. John had borrowed
Mike’s axes, and gave them a good workout until he decided he couldn’t
carry the extra weight (and I don’t blame him) ….what were they up
to….? John Boy takes up the story.

Sunday dawned grey, grotty and with just a hint of hangover. Despite
insisting that it would be a tight call to get out, up and back (even
if we didn’t get lost…) in time to leave for the airport, Phil and
myself were positively encouraged by the rest of the ‘team’. I could
swear that I kept half catching a sly grin quickly hidden by a bacon
buttie or a mug of steaming tea. Hmm… And the cottage/bunkhouse was
warm and cosy… but our big plans made in the pub the night before
were not to be thwarted (though we did try a couple of quick thwarts)
and off we set.

Mike dropped us off at the Cairngorm car park, and off we set for
Coire an t-Sneachda with the weather improving to just plain manky. We
didn’t care, the fresh snow underfoot and icy winds conspired to drive
out the remnants of last nights hangovers, and we were pleased we had
got out for the last day. We reached Aladdin’s Buttress and watched a
party retreat from our chosen climb which had a nasty looking ice
bulge blocking the route about 150 feet up, so it was decided to
traverse across to The Mess of Pottage and take a look at Jacobs
Ladder. Alternating the trail breaking in calf/knee deep snow we
panted up to the snow slope below the climb. By this time both Phil
and myself were well knackered. The visibility was still very poor and
we were getting pushed for time, so we agreed the sensible option was
to abandon the climb and head back. We had enjoyed just getting out
for the day, and with just the two of us, there was no time for an
epic. A sound piece of mountaineering judgement; I felt quite proud
to be so sensible.

Unfortunately right then the sun broke through the cloud and lit up
the most stunning ice and snow covered vista of the weekend. It would
have been very rude not to! So with grins as wide as the coire we
geared up in a flash and were off on the route. The going was steep,
the snow slightly more consolidated than on Saturday’s climb so shaft
plunging was the order of the day until a very ‘boney’ rock outcrop
about 200 feet up was reached. VERY careful pick placements were
required as we were soloing for speed and it was a flippin’ long way
down! This just about exhausted us, but with the snow being too loose
to cut a rest ledge there was no choice but to keep on climbing and
curse our pumped arms and burning calves. Anyway, only another hundred
feet to go… what could possibly go wrong? I mean we were even
catching another party up… that might be ‘cos they had reached the
crux… oh shit.

The last 20 or so feet were slightly overhanging rock with a very thin
plastering of ice. No way without protection and that 300 foot drop!
The alternate exit from the gully was a very steep mix of snow and
rock, and being horrendously exposed was no place for imprecise pick
or crampon placement. As we had no gear this was soloed as well, the
exposure certainly helped me focus at this point…A stunning climb
with a real sting in the tail!

Now all that was left was to get off the top, exhausted and with no
visibility. What could possibly go wrong? Phil giving me the map and
compass, that’s what. Luckily the sun reappeared briefly before I took
us too far out of the way and Phil performed a very fast, well
controlled glissade down the headwall of the Coire Cas. I followed,
gaining speed rapidly until my heels suddenly dug into the snow
throwing me into a series of dramatic feeling somersaults and cart
wheels, eventually managing to get my weight onto the axe and arrest
the fall. The rest of the walk out was uneventful until we reached the
bar and realised I’d lost the (borrowed) ice hammer. I was so upset I
had to drink beer. An absolutely excellent day in the mountains but
not quite as cheap as I had foreseen.

The Walkers bit

Day 1

John, Adrian & Kearton set of for an ‘easy’ loop around the climbing
area, but after only 20 minutes the mountain made its move by grabbing
Kearton’s boot and not wanting to let go. John & Adrian were all for
using penknives to cut the leg off, until they realised that they
would have to carry it back to the cottage for it to be sewn back on.
Then it was a case of removing gaiter & foot before extracting the
boot with as much force as possible.

The walk to the top of the plateau above the climbs started in
sunshine but ended in a blizzard. At the top of the ridge Adrian was
insistent on reaching the actual peak (Cairn Lochan) marked by a
cairn, despite it being on the edge of the cliff, both of which were
now invisible. “Just walk until you hear someone screaming.” he
insisted. “OK. You can lead.” was the response.

Luckily the mist lifted several times en route allowing us to get to
the cairn safely and then track around to the top of the ridge to meet
the others. As we neared the ridge we spotted the colourful image of
Phil’s home made jacket, and were just about to say hello when we
realised that the hooded figures weren’t our party. Someone has
obviously been copying Phil’s handy work (Time to sue?).

We then headed – indirectly at times – to and up Cairngorm and stopped
for a snack at the top whilst admiring the weather station. Adrian
said he fancied having a weather station at home. It must have heard
this as it quickly withdrew into its shell. The route down followed
the now empty ski runs and we got to the cars just in time to meet the
others.

Day 2

Lou decided that the walkers needed toughening up ready for the trip
to the west coast the next day and set us a long, but not so high,
walk to and up Bynack More & Beag. After dropping off Phil at Glenmore
lodge we headed off along what proved to be the most dangerous part of
route – the first kilometre along the track. It was covered in lots of
ice, so we considered putting on crampons there and then. After we
reached the end of the ice Adrian and John picked up the pace to make
up lost time and we reached a stable before the start of the hill.

From there it was a long steady slog over a snow covered track
(although the snow didn’t really start until we got up to ~800m).
After lunching at the base of Bynack More the sun came out and we
warmed up quickly kicking steps up the steep, firm snow. At the top
the sun highlighted the beautiful snow and ice formations on the rocks
and many photos were taken of these and the excellent views.

The route back was less interesting, especially the boggy track back
to the stable. From this point we made numerous partially successful
attempts to contact the others, but it was only when we got back to
the car that we got the only clear communication – a note under the
wiper saying that everyone else was in the bar at Glenmore Lodge,
where else?

Day 3

After actually getting away by 0800 we met up at a car park at North
Ballachulish. Louise had identified an easy but long walk for the
walkers.

“Just go over this bridge, up through the forest and onto the ridge.
We’ll meet you on the main ridge at lunchtime if we can get up the
climb in time.” These words were to echo in our heads for the rest of
the day.

We found the bridge but thereafter the troubles started. The path led
straight into someone’s garden. After much discussion we sneaked
though it, through a gate and into the base of the woods. The initial
steps were slow but steady, trying to find a route to the base of the
ridge. There the real fun started. What had looked like a fairly clear
area consisted of chopped down trees, stumps and holes with no clear
route through. After an age we reached the forestry track only to
encounter much the same conditions on the other side. Even when we
eventually reached the edge of this horrible terrain, we found
ourselves on a steep bushy heather covered slope struggling to make
progress.

Eventually John found a track which we struggled up to get our first
real glimpse of the ridge. The first 150m of height gained had taken
us over two hours and we only managed 450m by the time we needed
lunch. The sun had come out by now and we looked forward to exploring
the wonderful vista whilst consuming our hard earned sarnies. However,
it wasn’t to be. No sooner has we sat down than we were hit by strong
winds, rain and sleet.

After lunch we headed on up, into the sun, over numerous false tops
and eventually got our first view of Sgorr Dearg at the end of its
North ridge. From this distance it looked like a knife edge, and John
and Kearton started having reservations. Adrian was in a more
confident mood, despite his cold, saying that things often looked much
worse from a distance. At this point we also got excellent views of
the central peak of Sgurr Dhonuill (actually 23m lower than the first
peak, but possibly scarier) on the west side of the col, and could
make out six figures setting of up the ridge towards it.

By the time we reached the snow line we had realised that we wouldn’t
be able to make the whole ridge in a day. This was reinforced when we
met a guide and his party coming down from the peak, who advised us to
hurry up as the weather was closing in. He told us that there as a
safe path down from the col (the climbers ascent route in fact!),
which we decided to take. The snowy section at the top was, as Adrian
had suspected, not as bad as it had looked from below.

After a brief stop on the peak for photos and a snack we headed down
to the col just as the snow started. The path was slow in parts but
got us to the forest safely. There the fun started. With no clear path
to follow, we headed into the forest hoping to pick up the forestry
tracks. After several aborted routes we reached some picturesque
waterfalls and, despite several attempts, failed to find a safe route
past them. Eventually we headed back up to the forest boundary only to
find a well worn path lying just outside the fence. This led us
eventually to the forestry track. Much debate followed as to which
part of the track we were on, but a decision was made that led us to a
junction as expected.

Now according to the map an extra road should have been present, and
another debate followed resulting in a decision to head of towards the
mouth of the valley. This track took us much further out of our way
than expected, and yet another junction did not appear. (This adds
fuel to the argument for taking 1:25,000 maps as well as 1:50,000).
Eventually we rounded the hairpin we had expected to see twenty
minutes earlier and spotted the bridge across the stream. Just as we
reached the bridge, who should appear but the climbing group. They had
in fact found the path we had been seeking (it had been hiding).

After reaching the cars we decided to hit the local hotel bar for a
drink before heading back to the pub in Newtonmore for a meal. Plans
were thwarted once again as the bar wasn’t opening for some time. It
wasn’t even a Sunday (who says Scottish opening hours are better?), so
back to Newtonmore it was.

After a quick wash we headed off to the pub. The quickest out of the
door mentioned an easy path across the fields from the cottage and
promptly rushed off. The others, including Adrian in his Sunday best
shoes – but not his Sunday best mood, were left to pick their way
across the blackened landscape whilst trying to spot torches ahead.
After several meanderings we found a path around the edge of a field.
This however led us into thick brush and thorn strewn trees, then
diverting into a stream before eventually leading us into the village.
We did eventually meet up at the only pub serving food and liberal
quantities of Isle of Skye beer.

One other point worth mentioning is the wildlife. During our walks we
saw grouse, mountain hares, a ptarmigan, and in the cottage’s garden
we even had a buzzard and a stoat or ermine.

So, despite the fact that the snow conditions were not brilliant,
<Scottish accent> “boney” </Scottish accent>, and also very unstable –
we had a really good time – helped by the fact that the weather was
good so we could get out and about and enjoy the mountains. All in
all, an excellent trip. Thanks to Mike for organisation and both Mike
and John Boy for the catering.

And the worst thing about the trip? A climber says “We carried ropes
up the hill, we carried the gear up the hill; We carried ropes down
the hill, we carried the gear down the hill; We carried ropes up the
hill, we carried the gear up the hill; We carried ropes down the hill,
we carried the gear down the hill; We carried ropes up the hill, we
carried the gear up the hill; Why?” And do the walkers have a problem
with the tricky nature of Scottish paths?!

The End