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gang of youngsters dressed in Euro-bright ski gear are excitedly boot-packing up into an incongruous scene: the wet, windy and brown bowels of a Scottish valley. Their aim? A snow-patched shoulder, a tongue of white snow that’s survived in a couloir and some steep, wet grass. Last night they camped in a storm so ferocious it broke tent poles. While watching this very British film, I remember the old joke: “Weather warning: Southerners are urged not to travel unless absolutely necessary. Northerners – you’ll need your big coat.”
Why are they doing it? Because, during moments of magic when weather and conditions align, the best place in the world to be is Scotland on skis. However, there’s no beating about the bush – or the bracken – at times this can be an esoteric ski scene. After all, it’s said there are four types of Scottish snow: white (rare), grey (slippery), brown (heather) and black (rocks). But despite the unique conditions, it seems there is something really addictive about the British backcountry.
INSIDE THE SCOTTISH SCENE
“Ach, the skiing is mediocre. It’s the scene that’s amazing,” says Pete Mackenzie, a modest ‘boring accountant’, well- known for his gnarly steep-ski descents. He has a soft accent and gently infectious enthusiasm. It’s a joke, of course, he can yarn about Scottish skiing for hours, but there’s something in what he says. “A great buzz has definitely developed around the Scottish
backcountry scene, both on and off the slopes,” says ski- mountaineering instructor, Di Gilbert (don’t let the blonde pigtails deceive you, she’s hardcore). “OK, it’s not the Alps but for a tiny island it really packs a punch if you know where to look.”
I’ve tried Scottish skiing a few times but I didn’t get it. Talking to these guys, though, I’m wondering if I should try
it with a different mindset. If you want in on the scene, it turns out there are certain criteria. “Essentially, you need to love early starts, cold, wet car
parks, navigating in white-out conditions and whiskey-fuelled, winter nights holed up in bothies,” says Robert Kingsland, a young freerider on the scene. I huddle closer to the fire just thinking about it, but his words do contain the appealing call of down-to-earth, very British adventure. Why is there a British backcountry renaissance taking place, I ask? Kenny Biggin, author of two new Scottish off-piste guidebooks, answers this one in his measured tones. He thinks it’s been sparked by a run of good winters (apart from last winter: the worst in recent history), social media and the kit revolution: “Ten years ago you saw an occasional Fritschi binding at the Nevis Range car park. Now there are more and more people clanking with pin bindings and transceivers.” Legendary mountaineer Scott Muir agrees, and adds that the shine seems to be wearing off ski resorts: six years ago he knew a handful of people who would hike or bike into Scotland’s wilderness to ski. Now (relatively speaking!) a lot more people do. However, everyone agrees it’s still far from busy in the Scottish backcountry. “You’re actually chuffed if you see anyone else,” says Pete. “You might take their number and go skiing with them!” It’s not just the youngsters who are psyched. In her youth,
Myrtle Simpson was the only woman in a gnarly Lochaber gang of climbers. She was also the first woman to ski across Greenland. The younger generation admiringly call her ‘the Godmother of Scottish skiing.’ Some of them recently took this matriarch skiing in a gale; while they barricaded themselves into down jackets, the 87-year-old strolled out in a woolly jumper. Myrtle wants to encourage oldies back outdoors: “I think skiing is an excellent sport for the elderly,” she says in her strong, imperious voice, “Because the lift takes you up. I get a medal if I go down the Scottish Masters course because there are no other women my age who compete. Tell your granny to get her skis out!”
R The legendary Myrtle Simpson (87) competing in an end-of-season race.
R Mind the gap: Blair Aitken makes light work of the cornice on Number Five Gully (I), Ben Nevis.
28 | CLIMB. WALK. JOIN.
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PHOTO: MYRTLE SIMPSON COLLECTION.
PHOTO: HAMISH FROST.
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