Glen Coe has a long tradition of hard mixed climbing. Think of Hamish MacInnes and Chris Bonnington in 1953 climbing Agag's Groove (VI,7), Raven's Gully (V,6) and Crowberry Ridge Direct (VII,6) before front point crampons and leashless technical ice axes had even been thought of. These climbs have lost none of their respect since their first ascents over fifty years ago. Currently on Stob Coire nan Lochan, there are four routes graded IX,9 (Satyr, Scansor, Year of the Horse and Eggäschpili) and one of X,9 (The Tempest). Glen Coe remains a destination of choice for mixed climbing.

For those of us who can only dream of reaching these grades, there is also the full range of grades of mixed climbs in Glen Coe. They all involve a long mountaineering day; this is not winter cragging. Approaches are usually steep, reflecting the steep sided nature of the glen. The rock is predominantly rhyolite with nice positive edges and spikes and it is worth reading up on the geology so you have something to wonder at when standing on belay ledges.

The topography of Glen Coe crags is particularly complex too and it will take a few trips to learn your way around. Avalanche hazard can be difficult to assess due to cross loading for the same reason but this is less of a problem at the start of the season before the snow has built up.

All of the routes described are good early season mixed climbs since most of them are climbed just on rock. 

Aonach Eagach

My first winter route in Glen Coe was the Aonach Eagach and it blew me away. I had no idea what to expect so it was all a brilliant surprise for me. It is at its best when it has been buried in snow by a recent storm and its grade can vary between about II and III. Make sure you do it on a clear day; the views in all directions, including downwards, are breathtaking. When it is like this it is one of the best mountain experiences in the UK.
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The Aonach Eagach is a mountaineering route with a big walk in, several hours spent traversing the ridge and a good couple of hours more to descend. The best route zigzags along little ledges close to the crest all the way. It goes up and down many pinnacles so the climbing is complex and delicate with several sections of airy down-climbing. Good route finding skills and the ability to change quickly from one rope technique to another are essential. By necessity, you will learn how to move efficiently over all sorts of mixed terrain. Do it with one ice axe to develop precision and confidence with your cramponing on snowed up rock.

Buachaille Etive Mor

The sense of open space on any climb on Stob Dearg, the northern summit of Buachaille Etive Mor, is immense. The crags drop away to the huge expanse of Rannoch Moor below, and wrap themselves around the sides of the mountain. The climbs are surrounded by nothing but thin air and the distant views of far away peaks. Paradoxically, many of the climbs are very well sheltered from the wind. Curved Ridge in particular is well known for being a good choice in a westerly gale and an excellent introduction to Glen Coe mixed climbs. North Buttress is another well known “banker” of a climb which is possible in any winter conditions. Descent from these routes is down Coire na Tulaich if the snow is stable. However several major avalanche accidents have happened here and a descent down the broad ridge bounding the west side of the coire is often a much more secure descent.

Curved Ridge III,3

Many people fall into the trap of thinking that Curved Ridge must be easy to find because it is a very popular climb. Unfortunately, this is not the case. If you follow the path and the boot prints in the snow from Lagangarbh past The Waterslide and up the scree you will see a quite distinct ridge. This is not Curved Ridge (it is D Gully Buttress, another great climb but a whole grade harder). Curved Ridge is found by scrambling away up to the right over a wee waterfall and into Crowberry Basin, a well known avalanche trap. Even from here, the ridge does not stand out well but after climbing the first pitch out of the top left corner of Crowberry Basin the route becomes obvious.

The climb is relatively friendly with harder sections of a pitch in length, separated by sections of easier ground that should be tackled by moving together on a shorter length of rope. The rhyolite rock is particularly helpful and much of the protection comes from nice small spikes. A rack of nuts and slings is all that is required. The crux corner has very nice torques in the corner crack and a bomber thread on the left. Despite the friendly layout of the ridge, do not be too relaxed. It is a long climb with plenty of ground to cover and a finish right on the superb summit of Stob Dearg. Hopefully you will get to enjoy the panorama from the summit, it’s a wonderful place.

North Buttress IV,4

This is one of those routes that is nearly always possible. It is also a brilliant climb for learning hooks and torques with ice axes and for standing on small edges on your front points. It’s been said you just need to reach up and your pick will fall into a hook or torque by itself. It might not feel like this first time but the hooks are really quite positive when you find them. In fact it is just a brilliant climb with four very interesting pitches straight up a continuous line of weakness in the buttress. The approach is a complicated scramble and the exit to the summit is potentially time consuming as well. Start early!

The descent is the same as for Curved Ridge but if the weather or time is against you a descent by abseil is quite simple. The route goes straight up a chimney and the belay anchors are nearly all big spiky blocks.

Shelf Route IV,6

Shelf Route follows a line of chimneys up the north west side of Crowberry Tower. Like many climbs in Glen Coe, the approach is quite tricky. Head up as for North Buttress so you get a view of the route before crossing Crowberry Gully. A short traverse leads out of Crowberry Gully round to a bay below the two chimneys of Raeburn’s Route and Shelf Route. Start up the left chimney (Naismith’s Route) before going across to Shelf Route.

Simple sections of snow link short steep sections which look quite intimidating and can prove tricky. Being a chimney though, the key is to keep looking behind you to find footholds for bridging. The entry into the last pitch involves a bold couple of steps then a well protected tricky step right. Fun sustained mixed climbing leads to the top of the climb. Of course this is not the top of the mountain though. Crowberry Tower is still another 100m of climbing away and the summit beyond that. 

This is a great route to try the technical grade of 6 but in the relatively friendly setting of a grade IV climb.

Bidean nam Bian

The highest crags in Glen Coe, Church Door Buttress and Bishop's Buttress on Bidean nam Bian, face north west and are visible from the road. They rime up and freeze quite quickly being exposed to the wind straight in from the sea. The best way to get there is next to the stream at the side of Achnambeithach farm and to follow the line of an old fence all the way in to the coire. It is a long pull up to the buttress but the scenery is spectacular and quite distracting. Church Door Buttress is a maze of tunnels, chock stones, chimneys and a great arch which forms the church door. It is quite possible to get lost under ground, behind the buttress.

West Chimney V,7 Church Door Buttress

This prominent line of chimneys used to have a cave and a through route requiring a bit of tunneling. A few blocks have moved though and this is no longer possible. Simply climb the chimney around and over the chock stones in the chimney to large stances in between. The crux is a short, well protected but powerful couple of moves - hard but not very long at all. It is classic, chimney climbing mostly on rock but with a little turf and ice mixed in as well.

Many climbs on this buttress reach the great arch and this route is one of them. Walk over the arch and make sure to peer down the hole behind it. If you want a quick and very exciting descent, a 60m abseil from the arch itself get’s you to the foot of the crag in Central Gully. However the climb finishes with a deceptively tricky pitch up a groove on the left, Raeburn’s Chimney. Some ice in this groove will help progress and protection can be fiddly to find.

The Gash IV,4 Bishop's Buttress

Often overlooked in favour of Church Door Buttress, this crag has some brilliant climbing. The Gash is the biggest feature on the crag, forming a deep, dark chasm up to its highest point. This is another climb that can be climbed at any time of the winter. It does form snow ice and the climbing can be mostly on ice with a few rocky sections oat the chockstones. However it can also be climbed with no snow-ice, just rimed up rocks. There are a couple of hollow sounding blocks but it is easy to climb past these gently. A through route behind the monster chockstone at the top adds to the atmosphere and fun factor!

Stob Coire nan Lochan

National Trust for Scotland owns Glen Coe and puts in a great deal of work on the footpaths, for which we should be very grateful. The walk in to Stob Coire nan Lochan is one of the tougher approaches but the continued work on the path makes it much more reasonable. Once in the neat and compact coire you are likely to have a more sociable climbing experience than on other Glen Coe crags. There is a wide variety of climbs which are clearly seen from the foot of the coire including snow and ice gullies and mixed climbs from very simple to the hardest in Glen Coe.

Rucksacks can be left in the coire and a descent made to the north over the top of the crags until the slope eases near the col to Aonach Dubh. Take care with cornices over the gullies which cut into the summit ridge more deeply than you might think. A couple of people I know have taken the ride down into the coire by walking too close.

Crest Route VI,6

For a climb that goes directly up the crest of the buttress, there is some confusion over the exact line (and grade) of this route. However, the variations are all about the same grade so you are in for a good climb whichever way you go.  The true line gives the most sustained and best climbing and looking down from the perched block is very satisfying.

The groove on the second pitch is probably the technical crux and the climbing is so involved that you might well miss the step left and down to the belay on a small pinnacle. This might explain the confusion in the grade and line of the route. If you miss this belay, you are likely to run out of protection. The cracks are all quite helpful (carry large nuts and some hexes) and there is often some gear stuck in place. Get back into the groove and follow it straight up for more sustained mixed climbing fun in an amazing position. This is full on scraping and seeking, torquing and hooking. It’s not a long climb but every move is hard won and it is a battle to finish the three steep pitches. Everything you’d expect from a grade VI mixed masterpiece in Glen Coe.

Twisting Grooves IV,5

Twisting Gully is the classic snow-ice gully on South Buttress - Twisting grooves follows a line straight up through the rocks to the left of the gully. The first and third pitches offer fun and spectacular climbing, tremendous bridging up a corner on the first pitch and perfect back and foot chimneying on the third pitch. The link pitch is a bit of a wander and you can go by any one of a few lines. This is a fantastic climb to test your mixed climbing with options to change plan if it doesn't go perfectly! Leave this one a bit longer for the turf to freeze properly, it's not pure rock so you want the turf to be solid and a bit of snow-ice on the ledges is very helpful!

The United Nations COP 29 meeting is taking place right now in Azerbaijan. As usual, it seems that the systemic change we need to see from countries right around the world takes place at the pace of a glacier. In fact it seems like the glaciers are melting away faster than we can react to them doing so!

​This is the fourth year in a row that all the snow in Scotland has melted away, including The Sphynx, the snow patch on Braeriach in the Cairngorms, which was considered to be permanent until just 20 years ago. Ian Cameron, the snow patch expert, says "it has now melted completely since the 1700s in the following years: 1933, 1959, 1996, 2003, 2006, 2017, 2018, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024." This is only 11 times that the snow patch has melted away and six of those times were in the last 8 years.

There is no doubt that over the last 24 years of running our small guiding company, we have seen huge changes in seasonal conditions due to climate change. For many years it was easy to oversee these changes due to the inherent variability of the weather in Scotland. We've always had good winters and bad winters, dry summers and (more often) wet summers. But, even taking into account this natural variability and the short nature of our memories, it is absolutely clear that man made climate change is having an impact on all of us now.

What is less clear is what we should do about it. Several decades ago, big oil companies successfully shifted the emphasis onto us individuals, coming up with the term Carbon Footprint to make the discussion more about what we can do as individuals rather than what governments and oil companies should do.  In fact, by far the biggest levers we have to enact systemic change are voting and donating to effective climate charities.

Doing our recycling and changing to LED light bulbs will have very little impact on anything. If we were to follow the top three most effective lifestyle choices and we gave up a car, switched to a plant based diet and didn’t take a transatlantic flight, we would save approximately 6.2 tons of carbon per year. The average UK carbon emission per person is around 10 tons per year, so this would be a significant saving.

All of these actions are great initiatives and set a positive example for a better future, but they are far less effective than what can be achieved through legislation driven by governments that are willing to place the environment high enough on their agendas, helped by really effective charities.

This was all new to me before I went on a workshop delivered by Jennifer Stretton of Mieux Donner. Jen lives in Chamonix and works as an international mountain leader. She spends her summers guiding hikes in the Alps and her winters guiding ski trips in Finland. In conversations with her groups, she realised that the majority of people care deeply about climate change, but the situation seems so vast and hopeless that it causes anxiety and paralysis. 

This led her to take action and she founded Mieux Donner alongside Romain Barbe, in order to educate people about the most effective actions they can take to not only reduce their own carbon footprint, but make a huge positive difference in the world.
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There are concrete, evidence based actions we can all take to reduce our carbon footprint, but the issue is there’s a lot of conflicting information online leading to a huge mismatch between what most people think is effective, and what’s actually effective:

In her blog "​How to turn your climate anxiety into action" Jen says that the most effective action we can take is to donate to one of the six most effective charities that she lists. 

As an example, one of the most effective climate charities, The Clean Air Task Force worked closely with the European Commission to pass the landmark EU Methane Regulation last year. It’s estimated that regulations like this could achieve a huge 30% reduction in emissions from the oil and gas industry.

Another example of a highly effective charity is The Good Food Institute, who promote the development of plant based and lab grown meats. Alternative proteins are a particularly promising way of addressing climate change because livestock farming is responsible for around 20% of global greenhouse gas emissions.

In comparison to traditional carbon offsets which have little independent oversight, the most effective climate charities have been rigorously vetted by the world’s leading independent charity evaluators. Both Clean Air Task Force and the Good Food Institute for example have been independently evaluated by Giving Green to avoid 1 ton of carbon for every euro donated to them.

To put this into context, if you were to donate 170 euros a month to Clean Air Task Force or The Good Food Institute, your donation would mitigate more than 2000 tons of carbon in the atmosphere, equivalent to:

• Growing 60,000 trees for a year
• Avoiding 1,500 transatlantic flights
• 500 people going car free for a year

So, forget about carbon offsets, donate to these charities instead and vote with environmental sustainability at the forefront of who you vote for. The most effective associations in the field of climate change stand out for their ability to generate significant impacts thanks to their strategic approach. They prioritize political and technological interventions, creating powerful levers for reducing global emissions. Their approach is based on in-depth research and collaboration with various stakeholders to maximize results.

You can donate now! Click here.

At a glance, it would be easy to think that the main driver or benefit of participation in outdoor activities is in doing the activity itself. We talk about going biking, climbing or Munro bagging. We share success in terms of completion of a route, a trail or a climb; its grade or length, the speed or time you did it in. It can be like a tick list of accomplishments or peaks conquered.

It is of course very useful to talk about routes and objectives. We all need inspiration and a list of things to go for. The Munros offer a fantastic list of brilliant days out right across north Scotland which will get you out doing something on a weekend of poor weather when it would be all too easy to sit at home staying cozy. Guidebooks are full of routes to tick off and the star rating system accentuates the value of some of them in particular. I remember a description that said this is "a route for all aspiring Alpine ice climbers"; I was, of course, totally hooked until I had completed the climb. I still have my own personal list of objectives behind a magnetic badge on the fridge.

There's no doubt that reaching a state of flow in whatever activity we engage with is a powerfully beneficial thing. When our full cognitive bandwidth is taken up by the activity there is no space for anything else; our usual worries, day-to-day concerns and long term anxieties can disappear from our minds and we get some welcome relief. Just about any activity can do this, but an activity with a real risk of injury as a result of a minor lapse in concentration will focus the mind more easily and more completely.

Skiing and mountain biking can offer such experiences while at the same time we can be insulated from our surroundings. The infrastructure of a ski area tries to bring the comforts of modern living to the mountain landscape with restaurants and bars, uplift in sheltered bubbles and marked out and manicured pistes that we are to follow. All of this is good and it gets people outdoors exercising in a fairly wild landscape which sometimes has amazing views if we stop to look at them.

However, it seems to me that there is a greater depth of experience that might be missing from your average day of piste skiing or lift assisted mountain biking.

Instead of always doing things in these wild landscapes, perhaps we should take time simply to be in them. I think we should build time into our journeys to stop and connect with the place in which we find ourselves with the final goal of becoming a part of the landscape.

This might be a spiritual process in which we connect ourselves physically to the ground and meditate on our position in the world, in our lives and our existence. Or it might be a process of learning more about the landscape, how it came to be as it is now and of all the ecosystems and human influences that keep it this way.

Up to a couple hundred years ago people lived in these landscapes, subsisting on what they could grow and catch to eat. Clearly there was a deep connection with the landscape then, an interdependence that offered the possibility of life in what can be an incredibly harsh environment. Evidence of those lives is easily seen now; the footprint of black-houses and shielings, peat cuttings, lazy-beds and signs of ancient agriculture. 

Things have changed beyond recognition since then. We no longer depend on our landscape for sustenance and we can no longer say that the landscape is wild in terms of being untouched or unmanaged by human hands. It strikes me how the same landscape that used to be essential for survival 300 years ago is now sought after as a respite from modern day life and seen as essential to many people for very different reasons.

When thinking about experience instead of landscape, the term "wild" is subjective. To many people, experienced walkers and climbers, walking up a big path to the top of Ben Nevis alongside a few hundred other people is not a wild experience. However, to someone who has barely left an urban environment, being a few hours walk away from shelter, rescue, a coffee and a toilet, being unable to stop or change the weather and being totally reliant on nobody but yourself represents a very wild experience.  

At whatever stage you are at, I think the most fundamental value of exploring our beautiful landscape is in creating and fostering a connection with it. The initiator of this might be an activity or a list to tick off as a challenge, but the end result should be in becoming a part of the landscape, one that is in tune with it and understands its rhythm. Take time on your next expedition through our landscape to allow this internal expedition to start out.

What you don’t know you don’t know.

The mountain usually sees its first snowfall in September and it can be in winter condition all the way through to May. So don't be fooled by a warm, sunny April day down in Fort William, the top of the mountains could still be experiencing serious winter weather! Further south in England, it's very easy to forget that there is any snow anywhere at all. But the summit of Ben Nevis holds on to its winter conditions for much longer than most mountains in the UK because it is a long way north, it is very high and it can collect 2.5m depth of snow on the summit over the course of the winter.

The summit is usually about 9℃ colder than the temperature at sea level. So, if it is 5℃ at sea level it will be about -4℃ on the summit. Add to this the extra chill of the wind blowing at 30mph to 40mph, and it will feel like -14℃. There is nearly always a wind blowing on the summit and it can be anything from 10mph to 130mph. 30mph to 40mph is common, making walking very hard work enough and enough to make you very cold; 50mph to 60mph happens quite a lot and is enough to blow you over or off the path; 70mph to 80mph will knock you flat.

Snow conditions underfoot vary hugely with what the weather is doing at the time. The bottom half of the track is often clear of snow, with the snow line usually sitting between about 600m and 900m. From this point you should expect to be on snow all the way to the summit and back down. After a fresh dump of snow it will be very soft, but if the snow has been through some freeze-thaw cycles (meaning the temperature rises allowing the snow to go soggy, then the temperature drops again, freezing the soft soggy snow into snow-ice) it will be very hard and icy, so the walking will likely be easier but crampons and an ice axe will be essential.

Essential Skills.

You’re going to get wet. Probably you’ll get some rain or snow fall, and even if you don’t you’ll get wet through sweat. You need to know what to wear and what to carry with you, but just as importantly, you need to know how to use your gear to stay warm and comfortable. If you get wet you will get cold, and if you are cold you will not eat or drink properly, you will not want to think about navigation and you will not make good decisions. Staying warm and comfortable is an essential, under-rated winter skill. 

Once on the snow you need to be comfortable using your boots to kick steps if it is just small areas of hard snow, or confident walking in crampons on relatively steep ground. Make sure your crampons are correctly fitted to your boots before you set off - the side of a mountain in 40+ mph winds and swirling snow is not the place to be adjusting them. Crampons have a habit of catching on everything - rocks, trousers, your other crampon, you name it - so make sure you practice walking in them on easier ground first.

You should also have your ice axe and know what to do with it. It can be used to provide support while you walk and also to stop a trip or slip from having dire consequences. It is common to walk off into the Red Burn in descent, either intentionally or by accident, where you might find very long stretches of steep snow. If the snow is hard and icy you will need an expert level of skills with crampons and an ice axe to descend by the Red Burn. It's best to stay on the Mountain Path and follow its zigzags. 

Navigation

A clear summit on Ben Nevis is a rare thing so expect to be in cloud and that means your navigation needs to be on point, especially when there is snow on the ground. In summer there is a path to follow but in winter this gets completely buried in snow, and there can be little to no visible difference between the ground and sky. You need to know how to take a bearing from your map, and then be able to follow it accurately on varying terrain. Once on the huge and featureless summit plateau there are cairns to aid navigation but it is common to not be able to see from one cairn to the next, and in heavy snow winters some of them get completely buried. 

​Here's more detailed advice about Navigation on Ben Nevis.

You will still need to follow a bearing on your compass and know exactly when to make the left turn toward the summit. When you reach the summit remember that you're only half way there and you will then need to do everything in reverse, so stay switched on all the way down. In a white out, the only thing that will keep you from falling through the cornice is following your compass bearing accurately. Sometimes, turning back before you get into a very serious situation is the best thing to do. Come back on another day when the weather is better.

High pressure brought us settled, cold, dry weather last week after a reasonable cover of snow, a quick thaw and refreeze. It was a fantastic start to my winter of guiding and climbing in which Doug and I enjoyed stunning days out, fantastic climbing and dry gear at the end of every day.

We started out on Stob Coire nan Lochan on Monday, climbing Raeburn's Buttress (AKA Central Buttress Ordinary Route). At grade IV,4 and in really friendly condition, this was a nice warm up, a reminder of the movement and feel of winter climbing. It was a fantastic way to get . Previous climbers had left boot prints if compacted snow which had frozen nicely to provide really nice sticks with the ice axes. Protection was easy to find, belay ledges pre-prepared, and travel around the mountain was simple on the firm snow.

Ben Nevis was second and a climb called Lost the Place (V,5). I knew that this had also been climbed recently, so it would be nice for us to climb. The snow has been quite cruddy for climbing (but firm enough to walk on) in most places above 900m or 1000m. Climbing something first since the recent snowfall was pretty hard going. Ali and Kelvin climbed Maneater on Aonach Mor on Monday and had to dig it out from under the cruddy snow. Lost the Place is a brilliant mixed climb which is at the harder end of the grade V spectrum. The main long pitch up a groove is sustained and brilliant, there's a weird balancy move on the link pitch, then an intimidating overhanging chimney to finish. Warming up in the sunshine on top with nearly no wind and amazing views out west was outstanding.

Doug and I upped the grade and effort levels again on Wednesday by going to Church Door Buttress on Bidean nam Bian. We climbed Crypt Route, a bizarre route that goes subterranean for much of it including a very small squeeze between chockstones. On previous ascents I have managed to fit through quite well but this time I found it properly hard! Full-on effort required for 1m of upward progress.

A slightly easier day on Aonach Mor on Thursday gave us completely calm conditions, warm in the sunshine but cold in the shade. We went to the East Face (Coire an Lochain) and walked down Easy Gully to climb Morwind (IV,4). Early season conditions with little ice build up meant that we were climbing rimed rocks and frozen turf. Like this, the climb can feel a bit more tricky (and certainly not III,4 as listed in some guidebooks). Fantastic climbing though and wonderful views over to Schiehallion and the Cairngorms.

We didn't take it easy on our last day, we went to Buachaille Etive Mor to climb Shelf Route (IV,6). This is a fantastic route that is not so well known giving six really fun pitches of chockstones and chimneys in a great position overlooking Crowberry Gully. There was just about enough snow at the start (which is quite low down) to make it feel wintry and by the top we were digging out the hooks and ledges from the cruddy snow. The top of the climbing is on Crowberry Ridge just below Crowberry Tower, so you still have to get up to the summit from there. It's a long climb and really good fun. The walk in and descent through Coire na Tulaich were about at tricky as the climbing with lots of water ice over the rocks and hoar frost covering everything that wasn't in the sunshine.

​As the weather started to show the first signs of changing with the high pressure drifting away we walked down reflecting on an amazing week of climbing. For me, there is always a bit of uncertainty at the start of every winter around my fitness, how I'll cope with back to back days out for many weeks, the physical and mental demands, but these were all addressed positively this week. It feels good to be at the start of another full winter of climbing (my 24th in a row). For Doug we nudged the experience and skills envelope a bit bigger by doing lots of mixed climbing on trad gear, a huge array of wacky three dimensional climbing and five big days in a row.

We also discovered that we had been following Harold Raeburn around all week. He made the first ascent of Raeburn's Route, Raeburn's Chimney provides the route up from The Great Arch on Church Door Buttress, and he did the first ascent of a route next to Shelf Route. All of this more than 100 years ago!

Between Christmas and New Year we had a couple of storms that brought a bit of snow for us. It is currently lying down to around 600m and is not very deep, but it is very welcome! On Monday (New Year's Day) I went into Coire na Ciste on Ben Nevis to climb Strident Edge with Ali. We had tried a couple of times previously and found it to be black. This time it was white and frozen with a light covering of rime and snow. Perfect for mixed climbing.

The rest of this week has been a bit warmer so Strident Edge and the Trident Buttresses are black. Ali and I chose the right day to go climbing.

Today I had a lovely day with Elise and Dom climbing Ledge Route. This was their first day in crampons but they have done some scrambling and hiking previously. Ledge Route was a perfect way to the summit of Ben Nevis, learning crampon skills on the way as well as moving on a rope in a team of three.

The snow was soggy today and we were glad to get above the freezing level, even if it was up at 1100m or so. Even on the summit the snow was soft and wet, and we also got a long shower of drizzly rain on the summit. The temperature seemed to have gone up by a couple of degrees as we walked across to the summit from Carn Dearg.

The warmer conditions are consolidating the snowpack ready to freeze up when the temperature drops again over the next few days. The big gullies are full but only with a thin cover of snow. There are no cornices above any of the gullies causing problems and people have climbed Number Four Gully and Number Two Gully. The scree slopes in the coires are half covered in snow with plenty of rocks still showing through.

Ice had been forming nicely in drainage lines such as Waterfall Gully and The Curtain. However, at this altitude the ice has been melting for a few days now. It is not likely to build very fast unless it gets a lot colder. 

Mid-grade gullies such as Green Gully are not formed with snow-ice. They will take a couple more storms with fresh snow then thaw freeze cycles to build enough ice I think.

The big ridges such as Tower Ridge and NE Buttress look like fun, especially when the snow freezes in the next few days. Below about 1200m the rocks are black. Above 1200m there is now thick icy rime on the rocks, so they look white but will be quite tough for mixed climbing. There is lots of rime on the summit shelter and ruins.

So, there is a limited selection of climbing to do, the ground is cold and we have a nice spell of weather coming our way with high pressure building. We will get more snow later this month I'm sure and plenty more storms so the ice will build through the season. But, it's not a bad start.

Water freezes into very different forms of ice. Here we look at three that affect winter climbers very much.

Rime is what normally makes mixed climbs white enough to go and climb.
Hoar Frost grows on horizontal surfaces in a cold, clear night and can create a very weak layer in the snowpack. Verglas is an invisible sheen of ice covering rocks, making them incredibly difficult to move over.

Rime is a type of ice crystal that grows on any surface exposed to humid air being blown onto it in a sub-zero temperature. It is often seen on fence posts and, perhaps confusingly, grows into the wind. So, you need a wind blowing cloud onto the crag and the temperature to be below zero. No snowfall is required at all. After a westerly gale, choose a crag that faces west and has been in the cloud.

The best conditions in which I’ve climbed snowed-up rock have included well-frozen rocks and a light rime of a couple of centimetres that is easily brushed away to reveal (hopefully) cracks and ledges underneath. The crags have been totally white at the start of the day, with the climbs brushed free of rime by climbers on various routes.
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Sufficient rime to make crags and climbs white enough to climb can form overnight. Twelve hours of strong winds blowing freezing clouds onto the crag is enough to form a couple of centimetres of rime over every surface of the crag.

Hoar frost is very different to rime, apart from being a type of ice crystal. Hoar frost forms during a cold, still, starlit night and is what glistens on the grass and in the trees after a hard frost. Crystals of ice grow upwards as moisture in the air falls onto horizontal surfaces. Since hoar frost only forms on horizontal surfaces, it doesn’t turn steep crags white. So, by itself, it is not sufficient to create the winter conditions required.

Hoar frost grows on the surface of the snow as well as anywhere else. When snow builds up on top of a layer of hoar frost, this buried hoar frost will stay intact and remain as a weak layer within the snowpack. The hoar frost crystals are strong enough to hold a substantial layer of snow on top, but they are prone to collapsing in a layer across a wide area. They act a bit like playing cards standing upright. In this position they can hold a lot of weight but if they are pushed in the right direction they will all fall over at the same time.

Hoar frost crystals can grow very fast and a very thin layer of them is required to create a weak layer if they are later buried. So, a night of snow showers and clear spells can create a snowpack with weak layers. Remember that it does not need to be snowing for accumulations of snow to build up. The wind can transport snow that is already lying on the ground to other places where there is shelter from the wind. Clear, cold, windy nights can a create areas of windslab witting on a weak layer of hoar frost crystals.

Verglas is a thin covering of ice on all the rocks. When you look at the ground and you see rocks that look like they might be wet, but actually turn out to be icy, you've got verglas. Not surprisingly, verglas is really tough to deal with. Walking on a path can be tortuous, scrambling over verglas covered rocks is incredibly tenuous and climbing anything can be made impossible. Not only are the handholds and footholds very slippery, but cracks can be made useless for protection and slings slide off spikes very easily. Crampons can help a little but it feels like walking on bare rocks with crampons on which is never much fun.

If the ground is very cold after a week of freezing weather, verglas can form instantly when the weather warms up a little. A moist cloud blowing over super cold rocks will freeze water droplets onto the rocks, creating a cover of very thin ice. If the temperature continues to rise the verglas will not survive very long, but there is a period when the rocks stay icy because they are much slower to warm up than the air.

Alternatively, if the rocks are all wet when the temperature drops suddenly below freezing, the water on the rocks will freeze to create the same thin layer of ice everywhere. This verglas can last a lot longer if the temperature stays below freezing.

I found conditions like this once when I walked in to climb Curved Ridge on Buachaille Etive Mor. We decided that wearing crampons for the path was the best way forward even though it looked like bare, wet rocks. On the way down we took off the crampons for the loose snow in Coire na Tullach before putting them back on for the path back to the van at the end of the day.

I’ve often said to people, hillwalking and mountaineering are like meditation. We are removed physically and mentally from our every day lives. We get so involved in the moment, in the activity and its demands on us, that we very often forget all about our normal worries and anxieties. The more we are challenged by the activity, the less cognitive bandwidth we have for anything else. It’s only when we get back home that we remember about the outstanding bills, the anxiety caused by our work or any number of things that cause our mental fatigue.

Modern day life in our urban, man-made environments, increases mental fatigue, stress and anxiety. Restoration of feelings of calm, relaxation, revitalisation and refreshment can be achieved by spending time in a natural environment. For it to be most effective, a natural environment should have three critical elements; it should give you the sense of being removed from your normal life and surroundings; it should contain visual elements and sensory elements that are fascinating in some way; and it should be expansive – it should have some degree of extension. For me, exploring our beautiful mountains is perfect!


This is what “Attention Restoration Theory” tells us, that the human experience of the natural world markedly assists in maintaining and fostering a strong sense of subjective wellbeing. It's the idea that the natural environment has profound restorative effects on our wellbeing. ​

​It’s really obvious that our mountains are full of astounding visual and sensory elements that are fascinating, beautiful, full of wonder and surprising. Over the last few years I have increased my knowledge of the natural environment massively, especially through projects such as The North Face Survey on Ben Nevis. It’s also clear to me that there is a never-ending supply of new knowledge to gain, new insights to understand and new things to see. This understanding of the very small things in our landscape makes my enjoyment of the vast scale of the landscape even more rewarding.

​By exploring the mountains that surround us in Scotland we get to feel the immense scale of the landscape, the power of the weather, and the never-ending nature of wildness, that can give us a proper sense of scale. In a blizzard on a summit with numb fingers and an unrelenting wind, when we have to take a bearing on our compass to walk off safely there is nobody else we can turn to, nobody else we can blame if we get it wrong, and no sympathy in the weather or the landscape. It is a good reminder that each of us is not at the centre of things with the world revolving around us. We need to learn some humility and to take responsibility for ourselves. This is surely the expansive nature of the experience that is required to make its restorative effects most profound.

This is why I am passionate about spending time on our mountains. It maintains our physical health, it restores our mental health and it can have a profound influence on our spiritual well-being. It can counter the self-centred focus that modern day life has on us all. In these days of global climate change, an obesity epidemic, mental ill health and disconnectedness from nature, one solution is simple.
​
Go for a walk, preferably a long one and immerse yourself in nature!

In good visibility, navigating up and back down Ben Nevis in winter can seem quite straightforward. It is a busy mountain and there is often a well trodden path to the summit, as well as cairns above 1150m about every 50m along the way. When you can see as far as Skye to the west and Cairngorm to the east, it is not surprising that you should be able to find your way easily. Even then, the path above 900m or so is usually covered in snow between December and May and can be nearly impossible to find and follow. If there is no boot trail through the snow, it can be quite confusing, even in good visibility. And the summit is only clear about 20% of the time in winter.

In the cloud, when there is no definition between the snow on the ground and the snow and cloud in the air all around you it is a very serious place, and navigation skills need to be very accurate. The skills you need are to be able to follow a compass bearing accurately, and to measure the distance you walk along the ground by counting your paces. With these skills, you can then follow your progress on the map and plan the next section of walking, as long as you are very used to using maps and identifying features on the ground that are marked on the map. Of course, most features will be covered by the snow, just to make it even harder!

​The high summit plateau of Ben Nevis is surrounded on nearly all sides by steep and difficult ground. Many accidents have occurred in descent. Often this part of the day will call for more concentration and judgement than any other time, especially in considering human factors that will influence decision making. Even if you make it to the top, getting down again can be the hardest thing.

The best and quickest descent is by the Mountain Track. Careful use of map, compass, pacing, possibly GPS and the sketch plan of the cliffs given below will help to get you down, but local knowledge is invaluable. When visibility is good, make a close study of the general topography of the mountain; if possible visit the summit plateau with a view to memorising its details and recording important compass/GPS bearings. The ruined observatory, topped by a survival shelter, is an unmistakable landmark on the summit itself, even when the neighbouring triangulation point and numerous cairns are covered by snow.

Can I just follow the cairns?

The cairns that have been built above 1150m are there to help you. They will let you know that you are going in the right direction, but you will need to use your compass to keep you walking straight in the right direction. You can not rely on being able to walk in a straight line without a compass. It is common to have visibility of about 10m, so you will not be able to see the next cairn 50m away.

The cairns get covered in rime and snow that make them blend in to the snow on the ground, so they can be very hard to see. In winters with a lot of snow, the cairns can become buried. The picture above has 5 cairns, all over 1m tall, all buried in the snow. ​

How do you measure the distance?

From the summit you need to walk 150m on a bearing of 231° (grid). You can measure this distance by pacing, counting the number of paces you take. Having practiced a lot in a friendly place, I know that I take 60 paces (that is 120 individual steps) to cover 100m along the ground. If the snow is deep and soft I will take a few more paces, and if I am tired or carrying a heavy pack I will take more again. However, for me, 60 paces is a pretty good measurement of 100m. To measure 150m I will walk along following my compass bearing, counting until I get to 60 paces (100m). Then I will start counting again from zero the 30 paces to measure the 50m.

You need to know how many paces you take to cover 100m. It will probably be a different number to mine. You should do this somewhere with no hazards, well in advance of needing to do it for real. Measure the distance with a 50m climbing rope, or on a running track, or find a straight path on a map with distinct and easily recognisable features that are exactly 100m apart and practice there. Best still, do all three of these to get your pacing very accurate, then practice it in the snow wearing your winter boots and carrying your rucksack.

​After walking 150m you should see three cairns close together, as long as they are not covered by snow. This is the point that you turn right in descent, change to the second bearing of ​282° (grid) and walk off in this direction. These three cairns are positioned to point you in the right direction. The central one is the turning point; the first and central cairns line up with where you have come from; the central one and the third one line up with where you need to go next.

Have a look at the image below. The central cairn and the third cairn clearly line up with the cairns on the bearing of 282° (grid) which will lead you across the plateau to the 1200m mark and down onto the zig zags of the Mountain Track. It is nice to know this, and quite obvious when the weather is clear. In poor visibility, this is another little thing to tell you that you are going in the right direction. However, you will still need to use your compass to keep you going in the right direction between the cairns and if you can't see the cairns.

Let me tell you a story which, like all good stories, has something that you can learn from.

In November 2019 early snow covered the tops of the mountains. It had been cold and windy for a while so rime was building on the highest crags, delicate feathers of ice like white ferns growing straight out of the rock. Everything above halfway on Ben Nevis was looking white and wintry, and a rare calm, dry and cold day was forecast. But, typically, I had not been sufficiently organised to find a partner to go climbing with.

Instead, I grabbed some gear in a rush feeling the usual desperate urge to make the most of a good day. I wasn't at all ready for winter, my crampons and ice axes were still in the box where they had been dropped at the end of the previous season. So, I thought I would do something very familiar, a route that I know well and that is always a wonderful climb, Tower Ridge.

I have been up and down Tower Ridge many times in summer and winter, but I had never climbed it by myself in winter. The climbing is well within my grade, but the early season conditions did cause me to pause for a moment to consider what it would be like. A thin cover of unconsolidated snow would be of no use at all for the climbing, unlike the solid snow-ice that would be in place for much of the winter and well into the spring. Crampons feel wobbly and insecure when it is like this because crampon points push through to stand directly on the rock, the form of which is hidden from sight under the snow.

So, I was determined to climb carefully and slowly. This would not be an attempt on any kind of speed record and to make sure I went slowly I took my drone to record some of the outstanding situations. This, of course, was quite a distraction at times so I ended up only filming easy bits of the climb!

Strapping on my crampons for the first time that winter was a great feeling, but it also brought a vague memory that I couldn't quite place.

Stepping onto the summit was as wonderful as it ever is. The weak winter sun only just shone through the thin veil of clouds and didn't even have the warmth to melt the delicate rime ice from the rocks. It was a perfect day for hard mixed climbing but I had the whole of the North face to myself, so it seemed. 

As I unstrapped my crampons the fleeting memory came back to me. Right at the end of the previous winter I found that I had broken one of the crampons through the main body of the front section. This doesn't happen often and is not something that you can repair. Despite this, I just put my crampons back in the box and forgot about it. Not wanting to take my sharp new crampons out on an early season mixed climb I reached for an old set, forgetting that they were broken.

Thankfully they stayed on my boots for the whole climb (which is more than I can say for a couple of pairs of not-broken crampons I have used!).

So, the something to learn is of course that now is the time to get out all your winter gear and check it before you are in a rush to get out and use it. There is snow forecast for Friday and Saturday morning, the first few winter climbs have been bagged already in the Cairngorms, and a few people have already been caught out without winter gear.

It's time to #ThinkWinter!