Eilidh Campbell
Winter Is a Different Mountain
A summer Munro and its winter self share a name, a grid reference and almost nothing else. Ground that took four hours in July can take eight in January, and a slip that costs you a bruised knee in summer can carry you several hundred metres down a snow-covered slope. Snow hides the path, the boulders and the edges of the corrie. Daylight runs out long before the afternoon does.
None of that should put you off. The Highlands in winter are extraordinary — silent, blue-shadowed, tracked with ptarmigan and mountain hare in their white coats — and a photograph of a snow-plastered ridge is worth every cold-fingered mile. It does mean, though, that the skills you need are specific ones. Learn them on a course with a qualified instructor, then practise them until they are automatic, because you will need them when you are tired, cold and frightened.
Crampons: Walk Like You Mean It
Crampons are not talismans. Wearing them does not make you safe; knowing how to use them does.
- Fit: check the bindings match your boots and that the points sit flat under the sole. Loose crampons fall off at the worst moment, usually on a hard neve slope with a run-out.
- Flat-footing: on gentle and moderate slopes, keep the sole flat against the snow, all points engaged, and place your feet deliberately rather than rolling them.
- Front-pointing: on steeper ground, kick the front points in with a straight leg, keep your heels low and your weight over your feet. Let your ankles, not your calves, do the work.
- Walk wide: keep your feet slightly apart to avoid catching a point on the opposite trouser leg — a classic and sudden way to fall.
- Lift your feet. Dragging points catch on rock, heather and ice, and a trip on a hard slope is serious.
Descending is the harder half. Face downhill, bend your knees, keep your weight over your feet and place each foot firmly rather than leaning back and hoping.
The Ice Axe Arrest
This is the skill that saves lives, and the one people most often neglect because practising it means deliberately throwing yourself down a slope. Find a soft, safe snow slope with a clear run-out, well away from rocks and crevasses, and rehearse until the movement is instinctive.
- Carry the axe in your uphill hand, gripping the head with your palm over the top and your thumb under the adze or pick.
- As you fall, roll onto your front, drive the pick into the snow beside your shoulder and pull the shaft towards you, chest over the head of the axe.
- Spread your legs, dig your toes in and keep your head uphill. Do not let go, and do not try to arrest head-first.
- Practise on both sides, and on your back, because you will not choose how you fall.
Then take the same skill onto steeper ground: braking on a hard surface, stopping a slide when you are wearing a heavy pack, and self-belay with the axe on a rising traverse.
Avalanche Awareness: Reading the Snow
Most winter fatalities in the Scottish mountains involve a slip, but avalanches account for a grim share and they kill people who never saw them coming. Before you leave the car park, read the day's hazard forecast for the area you are visiting and understand what it says about aspect, elevation and wind.
The bulk of avalanches release on slopes between about 30 and 45 degrees, and wind-loaded lee slopes are the usual culprits. Look for rounded pillows of wind slab, cracks shooting out from your boots, hollow drum-like sounds and recent cornice debris. Convex rolls, gully exits and the ground beneath corniches are places to avoid rather than linger. Carry a transceiver, probe and shovel on any serious winter route — and, crucially, know how to use them, because equipment you have never practised with is just extra weight. If you are unsure, choose a lower-angled route and come back another day.
Navigation, Timing and the Short Scottish Day
In a whiteout, a plateau is a featureless room with no walls. Keep your map and compass work sharp — bearings, pacing, timing and handrails — and treat the GPS as a backup rather than a substitute. Set a turn-around time and stick to it; dusk arrives around half past three in midwinter and a headtorch descent on icy ground is slow, cold and unforgiving.
Plan shorter days than you would in summer, tell someone your route and expected return, and carry a bothy bag, spare gloves, goggles and a flask of something hot. Pack the camera where you can reach it without stopping, and keep spare batteries warm inside a pocket — cold drains them fast.
Learn It Properly, Then Keep Practising
Book a two-day winter skills course in the Cairngorms, Glencoe or the north-west, where an instructor can watch your crampon technique, run you through arrests and talk you through the snowpack. Then keep the skills alive: a short practice session on a safe slope each winter is worth more than a certificate in a drawer. Winter rewards preparation with days you will remember for years — the light on a snow-covered ridge, a snow bunting on the summit cairn, and the quiet satisfaction of getting home safely in the dark.
