

Whilst we’re still fairly early in the season I thought it might be worthwhile to spend a little time examining a specific winter excursion. I’m besotted with the challenges and rewards that winter conditions bring to the Scottish Hills, and I know I’m not alone. But there is a lot that can go wrong, and quickly too, so I think it’s really worth reviewing each time we go out, to see where we could have improved our day, making it safer, more enjoyable, or ideally both.

I’m going to use an example of a day out a friend and I had in early December 2015, in typical early season conditions – a small weather window, still wild and stormy, wet on the ground and icy and snowy up top. Just for fun, it’s also officially a grade 1 winter mountaineering route… but let’s not get too hung up on that for now. That’s for another time.

Identify a target

Our route was a 2 Munro circuit from the Glencoe/White Corries ski centre, via a broad but quite steep rocky ridge called Sron na Creise, up onto Creise itself and then round to Meall a’ Bhiuridh via a thin bealach and down via the ski slopes. On paper at least, the logic of the plan was fairly sound: We felt the ‘grade 1’ approach was realistic for an early season test of fitness and winter skills for us both as two reasonably experienced (but not expert) bodies, and our route off the hill theoretically meant we could follow the ski apparatus in descent without too much worry.

I want to stress how important route selection is before you even get out. A good route on paper doesn’t necessarily mean it will work on the ground, but you need something concrete to start from. I’m a huge fan of stravaiging, but it may be best saved for summer if you value your extremities. Once the plan is in place, don’t rest on your laurels and kid yourself that it’s watertight. The devil really is in the detail. Our overall target may have made sense, but our timing and alternatives were not realistic. Why?

Timing

Due to other commitments the previous day, we’d agreed to set off from Glasgow at 7am. By the time we’d shoehorned ourselves into the car it was probably nearer 7.20. We didn’t start the walk-in until 9.30am and weren’t at the foot of the route until gone 11am. In winter, especially near the solstice, that’s way too late. We needed to be walking in to the base of the hill for first light. For us in the central belt, that would mean leaving at 5am. The real question of course is ‘How much do you want this?’ I hate the phrase, but to do it safely, you’re going to need to be psyched enough to drag your behind out of bed at 4.30 or earlier, to be ready at the foot of the route, in order to make the most of the short daylight hours. The first 2 rules of winter fight club are: Pack your bag the night before, and get the hell out of bed!

Identify alternatives

Given our slackers start, I now think we should have changed our approach on the way in. I’d identified an alternate route beforehand, which we could have used: Instead of walking round the base of Creag Dhubh, fording the Allt Càm Ghlinne (which I knew would be running high and therefore time consuming to cross) and only then getting to the climb, we could have removed the second hill from the itinerary, parked in Glen Etive, got on the Sron earlier and come off after Creise onto the western spur leading to Beinn Mhic Chasaig. A shorter and more realistic walk on top would have meant more time to explore the ‘mountaineering’ part of the route too. Alternatives aren’t just about safe ways off – they might involve a shorter approach, less summits and extra bail points. On summer ridge routes I also look carefully at potential water sources. The third rule of winter fight club is: have good alternatives planned, and be ready to use them! Which beings me conveniently to…

Constant Adaptation

Like all the pointers in this article, this is a general hillgoing rule that I think really comes into it’s own in winter. Be ready to adapt to new conditions or circumstances – stay flexible. Once up top and walking to Creise, the headwind was extremely strong (approx. 40-50mph+) and seriously inhibiting forward progress. The weather was supposed to improve in the afternoon, but instead deteriorated. We reluctantly made ready to use that alternative route described above, which would have left us a long way from the car but would have been safe. Instead, at the first summit, we adapted plan A and made for the bealach, in the (incorrect) belief that it might allow us to descend into one of the corries in the east. If the bealach were corniced, we would exit stage west. In the end it was an engaging descent with some mountaineering atmosphere, but safe enough. Once on the bealach however, there was no way to exit into either coire safely, so we reverted to the original plan and pushed onto the second summit after refuelling, despite it getting dark. Thankfully, we didn’t do this out of pig-headedness – instead, it was the safest of our options at the time. However, none of this was as good as if we’d have changed our plan right at the beginning and shrunk our ambitions to Creise only, or even better, if we’d started earlier!

Terrain Traps

At any time of year you can convince yourself that a certain direction is the easiest and safest line of travel, but the consequences of making a mistake leading to an impasse in the winter are much more serious. Mistakes often happen at the end of the day, when you are already tired and dehydrated, and are hugely wasteful of time and energy. On the day described here, our descent from the second summit was poorly executed, as we ignored what the map told us and tried to find a way too close to the upper crags. We had to retrace our steps once or twice, and put ourselves at extra risk by crossing snow filled gullies instead of going ‘the long way round’.

To compound things further, the advice from the old hands is often to ‘be efficient, move fast’. We all want to be like them, right? However, you can see there is a tension between needing to make good, efficient decisions, and needing to make them quickly. I have outdoor friends who are very methodical when assessing risk but are sensitive to time pressure, and know others (myself, for one) for whom the reverse is true. You can flip this and regard personal biases as strengths as long as all parties recognise where they and the rest of the group are at. Even in a small group, that’s a big ‘if’. In the meantime, it’s part of the winter challenge to manage this tension between speed and quality. While we’re on the subject of people…

Human factors

I really appreciate the company of others in winter, and it can help sense check or qualify our decision-making processes, especially regarding the above. However, it’s not a panacea, especially if it’s a genuine team effort amongst a group of friends. I read a climber recently who when considering risk, described his fellow adventurers as ‘free radicals’. The only thing we can guarantee is: we all have our blind spots. And being social creatures, we’re all susceptible to persuasion – from our own ambitions and desires, and those of others. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it can be. Mountain professionals call these ‘heuristic traps’ or human factors. The literature differs to a degree, but the following categories are always identified:

Familiarity: ‘I’ve done this route before, it’ll be fine’ – Knowing the terrain and being lulled into a false sense of security.

Consistency: ‘We should stick to the plan’ – Inflexibility in the face of external conditions.

Social acceptance: Often internal dialogue ‘I don’t want to be a coward/I want to be brave’ – A desire to be noticed or accepted in a group.

The Expert Halo: ‘He’s being doing this stuff for years’ – Following a leader, who may or may not be qualified to lead.

Scarcity: ‘We only up here for a few days/It’s a day in a million!’ – A shortage of time or snow conditions leading to higher risk-taking.

All these things can kid us into doing something we’re not ready for.

For us on Creise, a couple of examples were played out. First, we convinced ourselves that heading for that bealach was still the best option (I think because we were both reluctant to face the long road walk) – ‘consistency’. I then made a small navigational error and my friend followed – ‘social acceptance’. However, Mick got us back on track by questioning my navigation slip. We kept the comms up for the rest of the day, verifying each decision as it came up and keeping each other appraised of our status (‘thirsty’, ‘a bit spooked’ ‘what about if we…?’ and so on).

There are no cures for these potential traps – the only mitigations are experience, awareness of self and others, and good communication between group members, … with the caveat that decisions are best made within a given timeframe, but not rushed.

Improving experience

There are no fail-safes in the Winter Mountains but there are ways of improving the margin of safety and building up a bank of experience to usefully draw on, and in that regard a ‘trip audit’ is, for me, a useful tool to consolidate learning on the hill.

I hope it goes without saying that in order to tackle any winter mountaineering routes you need to be confident enough to get up close and personal with snow, ice, rock and bog. There are courses to help – look at the Walkhighlands listings for some. The same goes for winter walking – as I’ve said before, I can’t recommend the introduction to winter skills courses enough for those transiting to the finest season of them all.

Finally, back to basics. Please do not leave the house without checking the weather and avalanche forecasts – MWIS, Met Office and SAIS at the very least – and most importantly, building what you learn from these forecasts into your plans. Winter is amazing – let’s keep it that way.