First Snow Camp of the Season

Dawn light

Freezing conditions having returned to the Cairngorms after the big thaw brought by Storm Bert I headed up for what I hoped would be the first camp in the snow this winter. The mountains were blanketed in cloud so I didn’t know just how much snow remained up high or how much if any had fallen since the cold returned.

Most of the winter I check the Scottish Avalanche Information Service for snow conditions as well as avalanche advice. However detailed reports don’t start until December 12^th. Before then there are just brief reports and occasional photos. For November 26^th the report said “currently there is limited and superficial cover in the Northern Cairngorms area with some shallow deposits in wind sheltered places”. There were no photos.

Lurcher's Gully

The description certainly fitted the landscape as I walked up the icy path to Miadan Creag an Leth-choin. The ground was frozen hard and the snow patches firm and crunchy, though sometimes I went in shin deep. Looking up Lurcher’s Gully into the mist I could see no sign of more consistent snow cover.

Coire an Lochain

However as I reached the mist the snow patches grew bigger. Before I was enveloped in the greyness I looked across Coire an Lochain to the cliffs of Cairn Lochan and there was much more snow there too.

Cairn Lochan

I plodded on through the mist with just occasional glimpses of crags high above. By the top of the ascent, at around 1000 metres, there was complete snow cover, though thin in places. I thought of continuing on to the Cairngorm Plateau but the idea of more walking in the mist didn’t appeal and I decided to camp.

Close to the steep drop into the Lairg Ghru pass I found a patch of soft deep snow where I could stamp out a platform for the tent. If the mist cleared it would be a fine site.

There was no sign of a clearance in the evening though and I stayed in the tent, reading, writing my journal, and melting snow for supper and hot drinks. Whilst doing the last I thought I’d make a little video about how I went about it and the gear I used, the stove and pot I’d brought to see how they worked for winter camping having proved as good as I’d hoped.

I was less sure about the video than the snow melting though. I’d never tried to film myself doing anything in a tent in the dark,  let alone operating a stove and stirring snow in a pot with the camera on a tripod wedged in the snow just outside the door, the scene lit with my headlamp, and in a temperature of -7°C. A couple of false starts and I’d worked out the best position for the tripod, the right angle for the camera and realised only my hands needed to be in the video – no need to see the rest of me. That meant the headlamp, which I’d tried unsuccessfully balancing on the pack and on a boot, could be on my head!

The video turned out surprisingly well so I posted it on my YouTube channel. Here it is.

For those interested in took it in 1080p on my Sony a6700 camera with Sony 10-20mm F4 lens at 10mm.

The video finished I had a mug of hot chocolate then snuggled deep into my sleeping bag and turned off the headlamp. If the skies cleared I planned on going to Ben Macdui the next day. If still misty I’d just go round the rim of the Northern Corries.

Neither came to be. And it was nothing to do with the weather. Around 2pm I woke with a streaming nose and a thick head. A cold, damn it! Some co-codamol and I dozed off again, only to wake several more times and fill my bandanna from my snotty nose. The latter then froze. I wasn’t bringing it into the sleeping bag! So I used my woolly hat. The top of that froze too, though that was mainly through contact with the tent roof as it was covered with frost. The temperature was -9°C.

Dawn begins

After a long dark night light began to seep in. I looked out. A crescent moon hung in the sky amongst dappled clouds. To the south a band of bright light lay above the horizon. Maybe it would be a fine day. I hoped so even though I wasn’t going any further feeling as I did. Just descending seemed a challenge.

Early morning

I couldn’t resist the dawn light though so I donned all my warm clothes and staggered outside. The band of brightness grew. To the east the sky was blue and orange. I looked down into the Lairig Ghru, a cold tunnel with brightness shining through the clouds that were beginning to sweep in from the south.

The Lairig Ghru

Across the Lairig Braeriach was starting to disappear into the mist. Soon it was all around me, visibility down to a few metres. I retreated into the tent for breakfast and my warm sleeping bag. Staying there was very attractive. I really didn’t want to get up again, pack my gear, take down the frozen tent, and walk down the hill. I just wanted to stay lying down, warm and comfortable. That not being an option – this was only a one night trip - I had a second mug of coffee then dragged myself outside again.

Braeriach

The tent pegs having been prised out of the snow and the crunchy icy tent stuffed away I heaved my pack on and followed my boot prints back down the hill. I met a few walkers heading up, most of them unsure about whether it was worth continuing.

Mist in Strathspey

I was almost back at the car park before I dropped out of the mist. I’d soon be back in it. Not far below I could see tendrils of it filling Glenmore and Strathspey with little hills protruding through, a dramatic sight.