Aberdeen had suffered the longest recorded period without sun ever at the end of January into February. With the break in the gloom in sight with a forecast for perfect blue skies on a Friday and Saturday, I booked a day off work to head out and spend overnight high on the mountains. 7am saw me on the bus to Keiloch near Braemar, and disembarking with a heavily-loaded (15kg) rucksack, but a beautiful crisp morning.

Reaching the Glas Allt falls I realised that the internal fence nearby had gone, as has the outer fence. There were deer prints around so whether Balmoral have given up on conserving the ancient pine woods against overbrowsing, or there is an intent to reduce deer numbers (something Balmoral have ignored in times past) is unclear. I’ve never seen any capercaillie here but it’s possible that fencing removal is related to their presence.

I decided to take a break from humphing the pack and headed down to the waterfall for a few shots, then onward and up through a nicely snow-fluffed forest.

Out of the woods, the removal of the outer fence also now provides a possibility for a nice shot of the next waterfall, but it’s a fair drop down form the track and with deep snow evident gave it a miss this time. Heading upstream big banks of snow lined the river, and eventually I crossed when it became buried.

The snowpack varied between soft fresh snow and scoured hard old neve, it was tough going either sinking or skittering, but so far I managed without crampons on. Approaching Carn an t-Sagairt Mor, the visibility dropped briefly as some cloud passed, annoyingly obscuring a large avalanche evident on the steep north side. The run out was substantial and some of the debris blocks were car-sized – yikes. I took a shot to send to the avalanche service.

The gap between Sagairt Mor and Beag was a potential location to dig a snowhole and had deep snow, but the loaded convex slope unnerved me and with the obvious evidence of avalanche hazard nearby, I didn’t descend to investigate.

Contouring around Carn an t-Sagairt Beag and leaving the col, the wind picked up and fronds of spindrift could be seen crawling over Cairn Bannoch, I could spot a tiny dot of somebody else on top there also enjoying a fabulous day to be out.

I could spot some huge snow waves and drifts along the Allt an Da Chraobh Bheath, and marked them as a backup snowhole location, but decided to continue onwards to my usual site at Coire Boidheach. Ascending towards Carn a Choire Bhoidheach there were unusually some steep snow banks there too. As I got higher I entered cloud and soon I was back in the “white room” heading east on the plateau

The last couple times heading this way in low visibility I’ve had “compass doubts” as it swayed as I travelled – is there a problem with my compass, or some local magnetic anomaly? The next time I’d have to take a colleague or a backup compass to decide. The result was after a timed leg, I’d missed the target coire and spent some time relocating and backtracking to find it.

Entering the coire, it was “flattened out” with no obvious snow wall to dig into, the wind direction had blown snow into it filling it up. Uh-oh. I could dig down but it would be hard to excavate fighting gravity. Would I have to bail to a bothy, or return back towards the the burn I’d crossed earlier? Fortunately in a momentary break in visibility, I saw some wrinkles in the snow towards Eagles Rock about half a mile away (usually be a gently curving slope) and decided to head over to investigate.

This turned out to be fortuitous – a series of 10 foot high ridges, some of which had big overhanging cornices, but some were less foreboding and I started digging. The snow was excellent in texture – matured well-bonded windslab with good solidity, but not yet tending towards too hard and icey. I’d taken my witco shovel to bludgeon expecting tougher going, but could have got by with my light arva shovel – but one never knows until on site what the snow layers are going to be.

2 hours later I’d hacked out enough space to lie down but also get all my kit inside – the forecast was for a strong wind overnight switching to the north, with static temperatures of -12c and windchill below -20c. I decided to build a windbreak wall to protect the entrance from excessive drafts and spindrift. The wind was aready picking up, and the eddies and air currents formed around the ridge had tendrils of spindrift winding sinuously and lit by the late afternoon sun, quite mesmeric.

I started unpacking and couldn’t find my “beacon” light for outside the hole for a night-time stroll, so decided to head out at sunset – get the clothes dried out from the digging a bit with a brisk walk. At least this time I hadn’t soaked my gloves – using a pair of cheapo “freezer work gloves” had worked perfectly. On reflection, the location here was visible from the tourist path between Cairn Bannoch and Broad Cairn – maybe best I didn’t have the beacon light in case of any “false alarms” a blinking light might cause.

I headed over the hill to the other side where sunrise would be, scoping for any interesting wind features in Coire an Lochan Bhuidhe, but the intense windchill and spindrift soon had me returning to the hole, with the alpenglow fading quickly

I made it back to the hole as darkness set in, and unpacked my cooking kit and a singular appropriate beer treat – an Edinburgh brewery called Cold Town – and set up my recording thermometer outside. I planned a little experiment – one inside, one out to see the difference. My goretex jacket went up as a curtain over a pole across the door. (went down to -9c outside / -6c inside). Chem heaters into the boots to stop them freezing.

With the temperatures forecast to drop to -12c, and my sleeping bag rated nowhere near that, I’d taken a thick down jacket that I’d wear inside the bag, along with some primaloft trousers. There’s a persistent myth about being bare naked in a sleeping bag is somehow “best” but it’s utter bullshit that a quick consideration of the science involved refutes. Like non-sleeping insulation, layering is key, not being too hot and sweating and not being too cold. PHD (world class expedition gear) agree that a layered system is more flexible, and if a insulated jacket is required, can be more efficient. In my case it allows moving around the cave instead of having to retire to the bag and operate from there until sleeping, which can be awkward.

I’d taken a large-mouth nalgene with me so I didn’t need an outside trip during the night. Before turning in, I poked my head out the door and it was bitter and howling. The thermometer was now reading -7 and inside -4. Another new thing I donned is a down “snorkel” the idea being that it keeps a warm space in front of your face, without being overly constricting to breathing or gathering too much damp.

I read a few offline articles on the phone but as always difficult to operate the phone with gloves on, and couldn’t do so without gloves as too cold. I was pretty snug in the bag and drifted off but awoke a few times, eventually the alarm came well in advance of sunrise which I was determined not to miss.

I headed back over Eagles Rock to get a view of sunrise (checked the angle using photographer’s ephemeris app). Interestingly, my foot steps from the previous night had become inverted as the high wind has eroded the surrounding snow but not my compressed prints.

Sun up and I though I’d maybe take a walk to Lochnagar top, but while on scoured neve it was quick going, there was plenty wind blown soft areas that weren’t. I headed to the top of Coire an Daimh Mhoile to see if any impressive snow sculpture (nope) then back to Coire Boidheach to have a look in better light (correct to not have attempted a dig there) then time for breakfast back at the hole, while the dawn tones washed over the plateau.

Having breakfast a buzzing sound increased and caught my attention – a very unlikely sight in such a remote place of a snowmobile. Not sure if this was an estate worker, or some yahoo out where they shouldn’t be on motorised transport (apparently 3 more sighted elsewhere)

There was more buzzing overhead – a light plane that looked a bit like a spitfire (it was a spitfire – others got a good sighting and photos – does tours from Perth). What a day to be flying over The Cairngorms. Time for me to be making a move so packed up, blocked up the door in case I came back in the next week or so, then donned the heavy pack again.

I made over to The Stuic, decided against heading down to the Coire which would be dark until much later, then the thought of heading to Braemar and an end at the pub decided the way out.

I headed to the burn of 2 birches to take a closer look at the banks and whirls in good light. Impressive structures bigger than I’d ever seen here before from the weeks of south-east winds.

I’d spotted somebody on Sagairt Beag, and they headed directly up from the col to Sagairt Mor. I though I’d head up there too and soon had to put crampons on – the entire side was hard neve scoured and icey. Although not particularly steep, it was slippery enough that I had to concentrate on foot placement – an arrest on it would need to be quick and decisive. Best not to test that out. Steady plodding had me up top and enjoying a crystal clear view of the mountains around.

There was every chance the descent to the north would be the same, so I spent a moment ensuring the boot laces were tightened so my feet didn’t toe bang the front, and the crampons were perfectly on. Heading down the usual method of following the posts wasn’t a goer as they were all buried except one or two – and had they caught a nose of rime!

I headed a bit towards the big avalanche to have a nosey but not too close, looking up there were still huge cornices waiting to come down. The crown wall of the avalanche was a few metres – hence the large blocks.

Rounding the corner to Loch Callater, I spoke to a trio heading up. Tehy’d had deep soft snow on the path up to that point, I told them it was hard up top and they all had crampons and ice axes. If I’d met poorly equipped folk I’d have had to warn them to not proceed – a nice day lulls folk into complacency but hard sheet neve requires the right kit.

I’d thought to descend to the bothy as I was beginning to tire, but the sight of the shapes on the loch inspired me to head to one last target at Loch Phadruig. I climbed a bit from the tourist path and headed to it sometimes on steeper ground but the soft snow here meant while it was harder work it was also more walkable without foot-concentration. Reaching the loch it had some interesting whirls and patterns and I was glad to have made the effort.

I followed down the outflow burn, in summer this grassy strip bypasses lots of bog and rough heather, today I could hear gurgling underneath, and I had a few leg-deep postholes fortunately without any immersion in the underlying water.

I took a break at the bridge, crampons off, delayering, now a march to Braemar. The track had a dusting of snow but easy going.

Reaching Auchallater I was back in signal and had a lucky break – a friend was skiing at Glenshee and was now in cafe in Braemar, and came and picked me up on the old road back to town, saving me a few valuable miles, particularly as I was now running on fumes and pretty exhausted. My total distance over the 2 days was 34km, with more of that on this day – a fair old humph with a heavy pack and at times on tricky terrain. I’d say I had reached my limit of comfort for the day, a useful benchmark for any future winter overnighters. Hopefully I’d get out to do more before winter came to an end.