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Season Diary - Day 8

Henry
Jan 10
4 min read

Saturday 10^th January 2026 – Cairngorm Mountain, Scotland

Time to find out if Scottish skiing would live up to the stories ...

As the bus wound its way through the forests to the base station of Cairngorm mountain, the snow grew thicker and thicker on the ground. Passing Loch Morlich, I looked out to see a lake completely frozen, snow covered mountains forming a most perfect background as they blended with the low cloud above.

The car park was covered in what must have been close to a foot of snow, cleared away on the roads but deep and slushy around the base of the slopes. The resort base at Cairngorm is one of the better ones in the Highlands, with hire facilities, ticket office, bar, café and a small gift shop. It is also the base station for the Cairngorm Mountain Railway, Scotland’s only funicular railway and the main uplift here. Much maligned following a nearly-seven-year odyssey of the railway falling into disrepair, being brought under government control (as part of the rest of the resort), having a significant sum of money spent on repairs only to fall apart again almost instantly, it is a relief to both Highland visitors and the wider economy that it is once again back up and running.

Turning right at the top of the Funicular, I clipped into my skis and, amidst a layer of fog and cloud, and set off towards the M1 Poma.

Immediately I was hit by the variety of skiing in Scotland. The green run that zig zagged its way down this side of the run was at time corduroy, the team here having put their upmost in to preparing the pistes with only the 30cm of base down. At times, it was powder, mostly windblown snow coming off the Cairngorm Plateau and nestling against the snow fences that are ubiquitous at Scottish ski hills but perfect for shorter more playful powder turns. And, what would become more of a problem as the weekend went on, rocks.

Little rocks and big rocks abounded. With only a foot of snow down on the mountain the team had worked wonders to move it to where it needed to be and open up a huge amount of the mountain. But the base depth was still only 30cm and that just isn’t enough to cover all the rocks, anywhere in the skiing world.

Heading to the base station at close of play.

Lapping the M1 a couple of times, I ended up at the top again before heading down the other side of the hill to the base station, where I put my skins on and retraced my steps back up the hill. I covered just under 500m in a little over an hour, not bad for a first ski tour of the winter and it being so soon after the feasting of Christmas …

Reaching the top I was aware it was already 3pm and, checking my watch, realise the sun was setting very soon. I skied down, packed up my gear, and headed for the hotel halfway back down the road to Aviemore.

The next day I was joined by a friend who had driven the three-or-so hours up from Glasgow for the day. Setting off early, we were actually stuck behind the road gritter and had to sit to wait for the car park to open at 0830, but found parking plentiful and easy and were on the hill within an hour of arriving, after sorting gear and lift passes.

The weather today was different. Very different. Whilst the same clagging cloud was hugging the upper slopes the wind had picked up and was strong and consistent at the top. We skied top-to-bottom down looker’s right of the ski area, before lapping the upper T-bars a few times. More snow was being blown in by the wind, and improving coverage all the time – we found the snow to be a little softer over here, with more powder accumulating against the fences.

Setting off down the M2 blue run on this side of the hill, we were immediately hit full force by the unpredictability and savageness of Scottish Highland weather. Turning a corner we were blinded by a full on gale, blowing a hoolie and whipping snow up off the mountain and into our faces through a thick, pea soup fog. Large areas of the run were scoured completely bare, large swathes of rock showing through, whilst deep, deep powder stack up on the other side of the run often in large snowbanks. Skiing was almost an impossibility, instead we found ourselves in survival mode picking our way between rocks and over mounds of powder until the we turn another corner and the wind subsided.

A pause. A breath. A regroup. And we were off again. By this point, the reds around the M1 Poma lift were filling in nicely and – with now a reduced number of rocks on show – we were able to begin to enjoy ourselves, picking up speed and confidence as the light improved. Some ace laps were had here before time came to head back down and begin the drive back to Glasgow.

This was everything I new Scottish skiing could be. So, so much fun, with great company, stunning views, and one of my favourite places in the world blanketed white by snow. The skiing was great, the touring excellent, and all types of fun available in a short, brilliant weekend.