Carn Aosda

Sunday November 4th 1984

The party was hardly over as Mitch, John Watson and I breakfasted.

Sudden sun and biting cold air and snow peaks peeping above the golden Glen Shee woods were too good to miss.

It was amazing how much snow had fallen during the wild, wild, night (weather-wise I mean)

The snow line was at 1500’ – the ploughs had been out, and as Mitch surveyed the hills from the Cairnwell car park he positively beamed with delight.
‘Now they are beginning to look like they are supposed to’

The wind was still strong, out of the North, chasing big blue patches of sky.

Carn Aosda was blinding white in the sun and every crest around us flew a banner of spindrift. Up we went, direct from the café; a helluva plod of course in deep new powder, but only a thousand feet to the top.

The slope was alive with mountain hares, terribly conspicuous because the snow had caught them still in their brown coats.

We didn’t spend long at the cairn – it was Arctic.

First glissade of the season swooshed us down, and we were back for lunch after ‘cornice practice’ in a gully. i.e. overgrown kids playing in the snow.

Eric Scott