Late on a Wednesday evening we got an email cancelling a meeting scheduled for Friday. The reason? “Unreal Scottish winter conditions.”
Ordinarily, a last-minute cancellation like that wouldn’t go down too well. But if “drop everything for a bluebird day in the mountains” isn’t the exact ethos we want at Summit Systems, then what is? The meeting was postponed, and just like that, I had a window for my own Scottish winter weekend.
I jumped in the car for the 7½-hour haul from Sheffield to Fort William. It’s not a drive I’d choose to do solo often, but for a proper winter window it felt more than justified. A quick refuel stop at Mainsgill Farm Shop secured sandwich supplies, and before long I was checking into Glen Nevis Hostel (exceptionally civilised as hostels go, would 100% recommend).
That evening we ran through options for the next day. Avalanche risk ruled out a few ideas, so we settled on the Carn Mòr Dearg (CMD) Arête on the north side of Ben Nevis. A route that’s been on the list for a while so the opportunity to do it in full winter condition, couldn’t be missed.
The day would start from the North Face car park and climbs Carn Mòr Dearg (1,220m) before traversing the narrow, rocky ridge to the summit of Ben Nevis (1,345m). It is an 18km, grade 1 scramble with pretty significant exposure throughout. With a total of over 1550m of total gain it isn't a pop to the shops thats for sure, but the views over the surrounding mountains can’t be missed.
We met at 08:30, caught up quickly, and got moving. The climb kicks up straight out of the forest and doesn’t ease off. After about an hour we hit the snowline. Crampons on. Hard shells zipped. Poles out. Game on.
Product note: This was my first proper winter outing with the summit poles. The interchangeable snow baskets were easy to fit. I opted for the smaller ones given the firm snowpack, and they stopped the poles punching too deep. They felt light on the pack and solid under load, which is exactly what you want when a misstep could send you off balance. The z-fold design also made deploying and stashing them quick and painless which is crucial especially on cold winter days.
The snowpack was in excellent condition, firm and fast to move across. We made steady progress up Carn Mòr Dearg and soon reached the start of the arête. Poles away. Axes out. Helmets on.
The view stopped us for a moment. Snow-covered peaks stretching in every direction. Clear blue sky. Hardly any wind. For a route known for exposure, it felt almost inviting.
In summer, the CMD Arête is narrow and technical. With a thick blanket of snow climbing to the rock, it was more flowing, but still serious. A few sections required careful axe placements and deliberate footwork, with steep drops either side keeping you focused. Deep breaths. Slow steps. No rush.
At the end of the ridge, you gain the north-west face of the Ben, where the angle kicks up sharply. We passed a few groups pausing for snacks, exchanged the obligatory British “nice day for it,” and pushed on. The wind picked up, the snow deepened, and the final climb turned into a proper lung-burning slog. By the time we topped out, we were working for it.
Given the weather conditions and the fact that this was Ben Nevis, Scotland’s tallest mountain, the summit was relatively quiet and even more surprisingly there was next to zero wind!
We sat down to take it in. The summit shelter was encased in thick ice, a reminder of how savage it can be up there. But that day, it felt still and vast. Lunch never tastes better than when it’s earned.
Product note: The Summit Systems sit mat isn’t specifically built for winter use, like all our kit it’s designed specifically with UL fastpacking in mind, but it did the job perfectly. Keeping me off the snow while we ate made a noticeable difference before the long descent.
As we headed down via the tourist path, a number of groups could be seen topping out their routes on the west face. Belayers anchored off peering over the edge to see their partners make the final climb to join them at the top. Perhaps next time that will be us.
On the descent, we fell in with a group of climbers in their 70s who shared our dislike for the endless switchbacks on the upper slopes of the Ben. They had an alternative, much more efficient and fun approach to walking them. At each long bend, one of them would sit down, feet out front, and slide straight to the next corner. After a brief exchange of shocked looks, we quickly followed suit.
Hev proved to be the fastest slider of the lot of us, much to the delight of the old boys. Alex slightly overcooked one descent and had to self-arrest with his axe before impailing himself on some rocks, thankfully his winter skills course earlier that week paid off. We repeated the method down the snowfield until we reached the edge of the snowline, where crampons came off, axes were packed away, and we wandered the final stretch back to the car, tired and quietly buzzing.
This weekend affirmed to me that sometimes the best weekends are the ones that weren’t really planned. A meeting that gets cancelled, the last-minute phone calls, mates that come through, the slightly chaotic logistics. A narrow weather window opens and you just go. We’re incredibly lucky to have mountains like these within reach, places that can deliver days like that in the right conditions.
That said, winter in the Scottish mountains isn’t forgiving. Good conditions don’t remove danger. Avalanche risk, exposure, rapidly changing weather. They are all very real. Having the right kit, knowing how to use it, and having the experience (or being with people who do) is non-negotiable. The mountains will always be there. The trick is making sure you come home ready for the next spontaneous weekend when the forecast turns blue again.
Walk the line but never cross it. This was one of those days, and we can’t wait for the next one. Hopefully we will see you out there.
Over and out.