The Winter

I wouldn't typically write about the kind of things I've been up to in the first two and a half months of this year as they aren't that exciting really, in the grand scheme of things. However given the current situation and the fact that I'm not going to be doing any kind of riding worth writing about for a considerable period of time, and given that I have a lot of time on my hands, I thought I'd put pen to paper.

After my fabulous ride across the Cairngorm Plateau on Hogmanay I had a feeling that this would be the start of a fabulous winter. Hmmm. In hindsight this was somewhat optimistic however we got there eventually. After a couple of good rides with friends after bringing in the new year I headed home wondering what was in store.

Lots of wind and rain as it happens. The trails were saturated and every time I ventured out I ended up like a drowned rat. I had one good ride up the Ochills on one of my usual circuits with a hint of snow which developed over that week but by the time the next weekend came it had all gone and the rain returned. Another respite enabled my January BAM and then the rain returned again.

A dark January night commuting home in some rare snow. It was very wet....

February came with little change. I'd booked a couple of days off work for a long weekend including my birthday. The plan had been to decant to the Highlands for some skiing and biking as well as my Feb BAM. Yet another storm was due to come through which canned that idea. I got the BAM anyway in local woods and got home before the weather kicked off. 

Then the day after it finally looked like it was going in the right direction. The heavy rain turned to snow above 500m and came down heavily. Monday looked like it was going to be more of the same but on a gale force westerly wind. Going north would be pointless so I took a chance on walking up my local hills (the Ochills) to see if there was any snow worthy of a repeat visit on the skis the next day. This day started bright but breezy. Climbing above around 350m I hit the snow line. The wind suddenly ramped up and so began a battle of wind, blizzard and spin drift. I made it up to the summit of Ben Cleuch but this was far enough. I'd dressed accordingly but the wind chill was brutal. 

The good news was snow, lots and lots of snow. Tuesday looked like it would be brighter and less breezy so a plan was hatched.

Walking up from the Castle Campbell car park above Dollar, skis strapped to my back, hinted that less windy still meant 'gale force.' Oh well at least the sun was shining. In fact things went well as the winds had blown a large amount of snow off the plateau and into the shallow valley you traverse above Castle Campbell. So the skis went on after only a mile and up we went. Again the blizzards came and went and great plumes of spin-drift off the summits in the rare bright spells told a different story to the weather forecast.

So it proved as on passing 500m I was once again engaged in a battle to stay upright. Leeward slopes had caught vast amounts of snow and even windward slopes were ski-able as its all grass up here so you can slide over it without fear of damaging bases. After struggling west past Whitewisp hill, I eventually ground my way up to Tarmangie and looked west to Ben Cleuch. It seemed to be miles away and despite having done this traverse on a couple of occasions in the fab winter of 2018, it seemed far to far today. I satisfied myself with a descent then a lap of Skythorn hill catching a few big fields of snow on the way. Then back up the way I came and off the end of Tarmangie down a great patch of snow which took me to my ubiquitous Sitka Spruce tree that I'd bivvied under in January. Despite providing a reasonable amount of shelter I didn't linger long - just enough time to eat much needed food and drink my tea - before departing, the fierce wind propelling me along without effort. Better still, thanks to the wind, I was able to ski further down than I walked up, almost back to the car.

The following weekend saw yet more wind and rain, although it was clear that high ground was getting even more snow. All we needed was the weather to enjoy it! Two very wet bike rides were done, one taking me east and back by the recently opened Pilgrims way that I'd followed east on my August bivvy last year. By the time I'd finished the water was pouring out of my pants.....

A week later and finally the weather looked better. I decided to do a bit of a ski recce on the skinny skis and if things looked good, would return on the big skis the next day. I pretty much repeated my tour of a fortnight previously however more walking up and down was required, due to to the fluctuating temps having wiped out the lower level snow. The wind was still pretty fierce however and patches of sun brief between more cloud, blizzards and spin drift. This was becoming monotonous.... 

On a whim I descended off the leeward side of Whitewisp hill to see if, as I hoped, the snow had got blown into this wide area with plenty of shelter and a couple of burn lines. Sure enough as I picked my way down through the heather patches (true Scottish skiing!), a vast snow slope down to the confluence of two burns was revealed. I skied down a ways then exited out, the snow so deep I was able to ski across three fences, one a deer fence.

So the next day I was up there again, but this time on the big skis. It does surprise me the looks people give you when you strap a pair of skis to your bag, in somewhere like the Ochills. People totally underestimate these hills given that they are just rolling bumps rather than the jaggy real mountains of further north. But there is a large amount of terrain above 500m and this is a different world when you get weather like we'd had. Sure enough above 500m it all went white. I'd thought of heading along to see what the leeward slopes of Kingseat were like. There was some rather drastic lines down various gulleys but its all steep. I'd no intention of being the first person to be killed in an avalanche in the Ochills so gave them a miss. Instead I retraced my way back to where I'd been the previous day and hit the big slope I'd found. Wow. It was all firm windslab but you can get a good edge in so many turns followed. Lower down it was softening in the sun but that didn't stop me doing it six times.

Pow day in the Ochills - having this within a few miles of where I live is a good thing.

Finally I traversed back across the south eastern flanks of Whitewisp searching out a filled in burn line I'd spied on the way up. I picked this up at its top and put in a final dozen turns down to where it ran out into the grass. Twenty minutes walk saw me back at the car, several low level dog walkers looking at my skis and bright orange boots in total confusion. One local chap asked me what it was like and it turned out he was well familiar with these hills and their weather so knew where I'd been and was un-surprised at the snow volumes.

So March came along and spring beckoned. But winter was now in full swing. Snow levels were building day by day at the five Scottish ski centres. I'd grabbed a day at Glenshee and on a hot tip skinned out of Tom Dearg into Coire Fionn. This is part of the area but closed this day as the links were wind scoured and bare. There followed two runs in the best Scottish powder I'd every skied. About a foot of fresh over a firm base in blazing sunshine.

Coire Fionn and Glas Maol.

By now the crisis was looming. I'd been stressing about flying abroad so when the ski holiday was canned, at the 11th hour, I was relieved. That weekend the weather didn't look great so the bike was dragged out with a view to seeing if a further Ochills ski trip was justified. This turned into a typically brutal fat bike on wet snow and windslab day leaving me wrecked by the end of it. A poor forecast for the Sunday meant a low level route was in order. We were making plans for the week and Scotland look like the place to be - in fact it was then the only place in Europe where lift served skiing was available. We took full advantage of this with a day at Glenshee, two ace days at Glencoe and three nights away, the Clachaig providing our final pub served beer for what now looks like months to come. We felt redeemed for our missed holiday but the future looked black.

Alpine Ski conditions in Scotland

Rare to see Ben Nevis in winter, particularly this one!

Coire Adair leading into Creag Meaghaid

Coming back from our trip north revealed a stunning winter vista. I felt an overpowering urge to head back the next day with skis in order to experience what would be truly awesome conditions. But the message was out - stay away, as you might not get rescued if it goes wrong. I wrestled with my conscience but common sense prevailed. Skiing mountains alone, even in these weather conditions was too risky. Plus I couldn't be bothered with another drive north. A trip south was considered then discounted so the local hills beckoned once more. The temps had risen and the big patches I'd skied in previous weeks were now shrunken beyond what was worth dragging a pair of skis up for. Not so for a fat bike and I spent several hours hunting out and joining up patches of iron hard snow. 

The next day was sunnier still and I felt the exploration bug. Time was running out for long rides and I knew I had to get as many in as I could before the inevitable happened. My route took me east and north on various wee roads and then up into the hills above Milnathort. These too are technically still Ochills but are around half the height of the main area above Clackmannashire. They are also extensively forested and it was into the woods I headed after the steady climb out of Dalquiech. I've had a few goes at tracing routes across these hills. There are various forest tracks and a few paths to boot but so far my trips had involved a lot of fighting my way through clear fell and windblow. There is a core path route through further north but this is a bit rubbish. On a hunch I followed a large track west which went beyond what was marked on the map and looked like it might lead to a ride which would link into another track.

Wa-hey, at the track end there was a vague but identifiable path up a steep climb between new planting and an established forest. This continued to a low ridge and turned west right up to the track. I went off route to sit in the sun eating lunch before descending quickly down to Dunning Glen. Down the road aways is Glen Devon forest, I headed in and spent an hour or so tracing tracks and finding a few further bits of single-track. Bivvy spots were appearing thick and fast on this ride and plans were being hatched for the coming weeks. If only I knew what was coming.....

Looking north east across north Fife and Angus to the Glen Shee hills

This is my personal ski slope of three weeks previous, now much reduced in size.

I dropped down to Glen Devon itself and then traced a final loop into Glen Quey, over to Common edge hill and finally a long descent back to the road above Dollar. Following my usual mix of back roads and trails home felt that I was coming to the end of things. I still hoped that the next weekend would enable further expeditions but a premonition that this would not be loomed in my mind.

Monday 23rd of March, 9.30pm. The lockdown started.