It had been decided this year for the Cairngorm Club’s annual snowhole trip to move from being a scheduled event to an ad-hoc one, the thinking being that this would allow for better matching to snow and weather conditions; it’s a tough gig at the best of times without severe weather/avalanche hazard etc. being in the mix too. A number of folk expressed interest but the downside of being ad-hoc was that good conditions and folks availability never matched up, and it looked like winter would fizzle out without the event happening. I was determined to do one though and was going to head off on my own in the final weekend of March whether joined by anybody or not. I put a final shout out and ended up being joined by 2 others, and after some discussion on options chose one that’d have a high chance of success with regards to making a hole, and would also allow for some exploration of new ground for us all.
We had decided on the longer drive to the north side, recent social media photos from ski tourers had shown in the background freshly dug holes at the top of Coire Domhain (a popular spot for winter skills courses). We’d check that out then explore further if needed, putting us a bit further around a potential loop, and gaining some height with some good areas of lee aspect.
Reaching Coire Domhain there was a large lee snowbank and we found the holes in the photos- only basic and not large shelters. The snow started coming down and I went and dug them a bit and probed – plenty snow here and the texture was workable (not too hard not too soft). Having a ‘backup’ location we could return to if needed, we pressed on to explore towards Ben Macdui. Visibility dropped and a bit of nav-cheating helped expedite proceedings (using the garmin fenix talkytoaster maps in conjunction with a pre-loaded course). This allows for a quick second sense-check on bearings, distances and contours, seeing at a glance whether the direction is diverging far off course, without multiple stops and starts.
We’d headed over top 1186 towards the top of Garbh Uisge Beag and thought there might be some snow drifts in a contour gully nook, but in reality the ground was a lot flatter than expected and not enough depth or gradient to do anything. We thought we’d give it up and head back to Coire Domhain, but with visibility beginning to clear up I suggested following the stream line further down – this turned out to be lucky timing and with visibility now fully clear, 10 minutes later we found some great deep snow where the hidden burn steepened, and there was a cracking view north-east to Loch Avon that’d make for a nice sunrise vista.
Digging commenced with 2 entrances going in and then turning towards each other. After nearly 4 hours we’d made something pretty good – far better snow (homogenous and firm but not hard) than last year and the weather and temperature were also very favourable, cold and lightly windy – no dripping or slumping ceiling this time. I had however forgotten the fairy lights as a finishing touch.
With us all a bit sweaty/melt damp and cold, we decided to head out for a sunset stroll to air our clothes a bit and build some heat with ascent. We’d pondered a night hike to the top of Macdui, but the hours of digging had tempered our energy and ambition so we didn’t go far. The night breeze although pretty gentle was soon covering our footprints with steady spindrift.
My digging tool this year was something old and relatively ‘unrefined’ – I’d acquired a witco/ rottefella “Norwegian army” shovel, having used a friend’s one in previous years and being impressed. I have a lightweight carbon fibre handled arva shovel which for a lot of winter camping is an ideal balance between weight and robustness for something that may only be used for a short time in the day. However when the primary task is bludgeoning through snowpack for hours, and may need to hack through layers of ice and hard neve, the witco has more heft, leverage and penetration being heavier, sturdier and with a narrower blade.
We unpacked and cooked our evening meal, glad of the extra space we created beyond the bare minimum. We went out for a further sortie down below to gather water – there was only a small section of stream visible it mostly being buried. During this we decided to turn off the headtorches, let the eyes adjust to the dark and soak up the clear and dark Cairngorms night sky. A rock poking through the snow acted as a handy ‘tripod’ for some long exposure photo attempts, and we also saw a few shooting stars. Using polaris we found north but no aurora tonight. We headed back and turned in for the night.
I’d set my alarm early to make sure to get sunrise, but always tough to leave the relatively cosy confines of the sleeping bag and start putting on cold clothes/boots. I poked my head out the entrance and could see some colour forming on the horizon, it looked to be good weather albeit with some more cloud around.
The other 2 began to stir – one not having slept well as too cold: she’d concocted some 3-season gear with extra layers but it hadn’t quite been enough; the other had slept great once he’d built a spindrift barrier to the entrance using 2 rucksacks to stop the occasional sprinkle blowing on to his face. Outside I chopped out a flat platform as a stage to watch the sunrise and cook, then to use for packing our rucksacks.
With conditions looking good we decided to continue on a route heading around Loch Etchachan before starting the homeward bound leg to Loch Avon and back over Cairn Gorm
Near Loch Etchachan we thought we might shortcut down a gully and around the edge. We headed down to “all the zeros” (on OS coords 0000 0000). As the terrain steepened down to the loch we pondered, possible wind-slabby slope with a rocky run-out into the loch; and decided against it instead going up and over a ridge of lower gradient instead. Ascending that we encountered hollow-sounding layers that were easily collapsed and weakly bound underneath, so probably a good idea to avoid more consequential ground.
Arriving at the loch side with a gentle breeze we took a break; a fabulous scenic location to chill for a moment. The loch was mostly frozen except a small patch at the outflow where the crystal-clear water allowed for a nice photo with the underlying rocks.
Making our way past the lochs the snow had deepened and there was a tiring blend of older crunchy postholes and newer soft thawing snow. Between that and the heavy packs for a second day, we were beginning to fatigue and we stopped at the shelter stone for a break again. Inside was pretty dank and muddy, we fished out the club’s logbook and aired it’s damp pages outside the tupperwear box. We’d pondered heading along the loch side and then up past Ciste Mhearad to see this most well known of snowhole locations, but the thought of the extra distance and the jumbled terrain of the lochside path didn’t inspire – we were into the territory of fatigue of “shortest route home” now. One way or another we’d need to ascend steeply, ultimately choosing the closest option up to Coire Domhain.
The ascent was extremely spludgy and scritchy, the path and it’s rocky steps largely buried, so a slow combination of postholing and heather bashing and threading past boulders. In summer, this is easy stuff and joyful with the burn splashing through waterfalls; with the heavy pack and tired legs a fair old fecht today and a lot steeper than I recalled. I glanced at my watch altimeter periodically counting off the height 850, 900, 950 phew.. at 1000m it began to level off and we headed around the back of Stob Coire an t-Sneachda thankfully.
Passing the split in the trail to Cairn Gorm we decied on a final push- we’d not actually ‘topped out’ on any hill throughout the journey, and the thought of a hot coffee and some cake in the Ptarmigan restaurant spurred us on. T the top, Cairn Gorm weather station had shed much of it’s frosty winter garb, and after taking a few scenic shots of the mountains around, we followed the posts down to the cafe.
RANT INTERLUDE: Half an hour before closing time (which in itself at 4pm is ridiculous), it had already closed to no great surprise to me – we stood outside briefly and various visiting skiers and tourists popped in and were flabbergasted that nothing was open and left disappointed, many mumbling about how this would be inconceivable in the alps. Easter weekend, loads of folks out enjoying a ski in great conditions .. the venue’s attitude.. fuck you, go away.
The people running the whole ski operation here are just absolute arseholes, minimal effort, surly obstinacy. The whole company is rotten to the core; but higher authorities funding the farce of the monorail fiasco.. just keep doggedly ploughing ahead with this absolute shambles. At some point somebody in the Scottish government is going to have to grow a set of balls and start chopping away the dead wood here and think again, it’s a money-pit black hole that suffocates so much else that could be done for winters sports and venues elsewhere, it’s an ongoing insanity. RANT OVER.
Disappointed with no refreshments, we began descending down past the ski slopes (also very poorly arranged for the many on foot) and then out of the snowline thudding wearily and endlessly down the big stone steps, temperature rising, sweaty work and were very glad to reach the car park and unload and stretch.
We drove to the Pine Marten, which in contrast to the ski centre, is a place of vibrant friendly service. We sat outside there in the balmy spring sun, fed, watered and happy to be chilling after a tough but very satisfactory expedition. We’d found a great location and made a very nice snow hole, I’d managed to explore some new terrain east of Ben Macdui, and the others had got to see some classic Cairngorms places and views in cracking winter conditions.
