CHAPTER 57
The place we were based at was indeed a clone of the Brenin, with extras in some ways, and surprising omissions in others. The dorms were larger, and we ended up all in one ’gender-neutral’ bunkhouse affair, which demanded a certain finesse in dressing and undressing. Looking at the rows of bunks, I remembered all those jokes about ‘The Promise’ and blessed my Dad’s insistence that I travelled with a little box of reusable foam earplugs.

The boot room was as expected, but there was another, colder room with a tiled floor and no heating that was for ski storage. No climbing wall; we clearly couldn’t have everything. There was also absolutely no sign of a bar, which left the lads, and a couple of the girls, muttering until Matt pointed out that we had transport and there was a place called Aviemore reasonably nearby, which definitely held the appropriate and desired type of shop, as well as at least one curry house.

I pondered on both aspects of ‘The Promise’ at that announcement, especially after Ricky’s comment, and ensured I took an upper bunk rather than one on the bottom tier.

The first night was a quiet one, following such a long drive up, and I was surprised to find bright sunshine awaiting me, along with a very, very full breakfast. Once that was disposed of, we had our first lecture, with a heavy focus on the geology and topology of the hills nearby, the prevailing winds, snow forecast, wind chill rate, etc, etc. Our instructor, Cubby, was a short man whose face seemed almost all beard, and in his manner and speech patterns he reminded me very much of Steph and Annie’s friend Stewie.

Lunch, and then a hands-on session with ice tools, necessarily limited to holding them, feeling their heft and carrying out what Neil referred to as Naming of Parts. It was all very, very dry, and that feeling was made far worse by the sight of the glistening snowclad hills through our classroom window. I was just starting to fade into a depressive state with thoughts of a wasted day of decent weather, when Cubby called for a break.

“Right, then! Grab a cuppa, and be back here as soon as you’ve got it and changed into hill gear. You will need your overtrousers as well as jackets”

I exchanged raised eyebrows with Lee and Tref, and then shot upstairs. Tracksters off, base layer and Powerstretch leggings on, the rest of my kit into my daysack and back down via the kitchen; I wasn’t the first back, but nobody was hanging around. Cubby’s grin was so wide it was visible through the beard, which was amazing.

“What? Waste a day like this indoors? Today is basic ‘walking with an axe’ stuff. We will be heading out in the Landies for the afternoon. Flasks are already filled, so if you don’t like tea or coffee, tough. You up for this? Oh dear, look at those grins. Boots and gaiters on, and meet at the car park”

The drive out took us up a few hairpins to somewhere near the lift up to the ski area, and once we were out of the Landrovers, Cubby assembled us in ranks.

“Force of habit, ladies and gentlemen, so stand easy. We are going on a short walk, and it will neither involve nor need crampons. In the back if that wagon you will find a selection of longer ice axes rather than the tech ones we played with this morning. Please collect one each, and then follow me”

They were indeed long-shafted items, and I realised why, as my memory brought up that definitely-not-Dad story of a turned ankle and a technical axe, and once we were assembled, Cubby led us from the car [ark out onto the open slope. At first, my boots squished through half-melted slush, but as we moved further away from the gritted tarmac they started to crunch and occasionally squeak as they sank into the snow. I was wearing glacier glasses, a Christmas present from my lover, which let me see all sorts of interesting structures in the drifted snow, and as we turned to move uphill, the ‘walking stick’ use of the axe I held became both obvious and useful. Chubby led us upwards and around to the shaded side of a large knoll, where there was a pretty broad snowfield on a reasonable slope.

“Right, you lot: self-arrest. Anyone done this before?”

I put my hand up, along with three or four other people, and Cubby nodded.

“Not too many bad habits to break then, or at least I hope not. Now, Each of you, take the axe and hold it in your dominant hand, about a quarter way down from the head. Got that? Pick facing away from you. Other hand folded over---no, whatever your name is. Wait for the word of instruction. Folded over the top of the head, thumb behind the base of the adze. Feel how the shaft is sitting towards your armpit? Okay… bring both hands down so that the shaft rides up into that armpit. That is how it works. Braking is done by forcing the pick into the snow, and your armpit helps to take the load. None of this ‘Where Eagles Dare’ shite where you chop it in and swing on one hand”

Matt’s voice carried well in the still air.

“We will be looking at that film on our return, along with ‘The Eiger Sanction’. I have saved them both so that you can properly appreciate how silly they are. Sorry, Cubby!”

“Not at all, mate. Now, you lot: we will be doing self-arrest in a series of different postures, from the simplest to the most difficult. Simplest, obviously, is feet downhill, on your front. Hardest is neither of those. Now, none of you are wearing crampons, but I want you to imagine you are, so feet held clear of the snow at all times you are sliding”

One by one, we carried out the first exercise, and then moved onto feet-first on our backs. Once again, Cubby was direct and to the point.

“Always roll over towards the side you are holding the axe head. If you don’t, the spike will dig in, and you WILL lose your axe, possibly after it smacks you in the gob. First up!”

Yes, we did finish off head down on our backs, and more than one of us ended up with a large quantity of snow down our collars, and Ricky rolled the wrong way, his axe breaking free and trailing behind him as he went head-first, naturally, into the sizeable and thankfully soft snowdrift at the bottom of the slope. Cubby roared with laughter at the sight.

“We have some avalanche poles on the roofracks. Do we need to probe to find out where he is?”

The lad was on his feet as quickly as he could manage, and Cubby’s manner eased.

“Lucky it happened in that orientation, son. Other way up, and you might have lost some teeth, so no harm done. Give it another go, yeah?”

That attempt went far better, and after we had all gathered around our instructor, he continued.

“Lots easier than the description, isn’t it? It is still a vital skill. The longer you slide, obviously, the faster you go, so always be ready to self-arrest. When using the axe as a walking stick, carry it with the adze forward, so that your hand is already the right way round. That bit about crampons is for the same reason: if they dig in, you get thrown off balance in a different way, and can end up spinning. Always remember 7P”

Once again, Ricky had to ask, and Cubby just shrugged.

“Proper prior planning prevents piss-poor performance, of course! Now, while we are here, lets have a look at this snow. One of you pass me my rucksack?”

Out of his bag came a lightweight and narrow shovel, and up by the outcrop he dug a deep hole less than a foot wide.

“Now, this is not the best site for it, but…”

Layers. Different types of snow, one layer on another. Crystal size, density, et cetera and et more cetera. How to check a slope for avalanche risk, how the wind affects the composition and safety, how to gauge where best to dig a snow hole, a snow cave, a snow grave. Jordan was twitching at the last, and Cubby waved a hand in either dismissal or reassurance.

“Not what it sounds like, son. Biggest threat up here, once you’ve avoided avalanche, is hypothermia. Applies whether or not you know where you are, and that is why we put such emphasis on wind chill calculation. If the wind is trying to kill you, bloody well get out of it. A snow grave simply means a trench cut into the snow so that you can lie down out of that wind. Not the best way to spend a night, or even a couple of hours, but it can save your life. In a few days, we will start some live practice on those skills, and at the end of the week, we will overnight in two-man---sorry, ladies, two-person snow holes. Now, look at the light”

Where had the day gone? We tramped across to the Landrovers once again, and I realised I was actually tired, after all the stamping uphill for another slide down. By the time we were back at base, it was utterly dark, the air temperature plunging, and our evening meal of stew and mashed potato was really welcome. I was a little late for it, as I was one of those who hadn’t zipped their jacket all the way up, so my back was dripping wet, and I needed a complete change of tops. Not making that mistake again.

Over the next few days, we did indeed push out further, as the weather held, and there were a couple of days when we rode to the summit of Cairn Gorm using the ski lifts, walking out with flasks and packed food to reasonably unfrequented parts of the summit plateau to practice digging our graves, among other skills. We had two evenings out in Aviemore, in which curry was indeed consumed and found to be far better than predicted, and beer accompanied it. We were taken to some north-facing slopes, where we played with ice screws, crampons and technical axes on frozen waterfalls, and the only thing that could have made that week better would have been the presence of my lover.

More instruction on the hill, more classroom sessions, several of which were held in the evenings to free up what daylight we were allowed for practical work, and then we were driven out to another access point for some East-facing slopes. Cubby marshalled us uphill to a ridge line, then started pairing us up.

“You and you, over that way: a snow grave. Same with you two… next two pairs, quinzhees, over there. Last four: snow cave. Be aware that yours will be the hardest, in terms of physical exertion, so work pair by pair. Watch your heart rates, check for dehydration, and by that I mean buddy system. I am not going to tell you where to put the cave---you’ve had the lecture, show me how much attention you have been paying. No; no overnighting here. That’s in three days. Off you go!”

Lee and I nodded to each other, and moved some way up the snow bank, as we had been advised. Start digging, angled a little uphill. Once Lee had made some headway, he backed out and I went in to take my turn with the spade, Jordan and Tref clearing the debris to one side so that one of the quinzhee pairs could use it. They then took over from Lee and me as we caught our breath and drank from our flasks, before Lee and I were back into the tunnel and starting to excavate the sleeping area. As I took my turn at the sharp end, Lee started a whispered conversation.

“Enfys?”

“Yes, mate?”

“Julia. What do you think of her?”

“Which Julia?”

“She’s on your girl’s course. Think she’s into beetles”

“Seems. Okay. Not. Sure. About. Beetles. Myself”

“Aye, but your lass; could you, you know, ask? If she’s seeing anyone?”

I rested on the spade for a few seconds as I caught my breath.

“Why not ask her yourself?”

“Shit, Enfys: what if she tells us to sod off?”

“That’s how it goes, I’m afraid, but you never know till you ask”

“Aye, but I’d look a right tit if, you know….”

I turned slightly so that I could see his face in the half-light filtering past him from the entrance.

“It’s not just the chatting up line, then, is it? Worse?”

He shook his head slightly, then nodded sharply.

“I just can’t talk to lasses, Enfys”

“Bollocks to that! You’re talking to me, and you never shut up at Uni”

“Aye, but, well… different when you’re asking… I just can’t. I mean, look at me, I’m not exactly Mister Cool, am I?”

I couldn’t help it, and burst out laughing.

“Sorry, but I am most definitely not someone to ask about male attractiveness, am I?”

His head dropped.

“Just, you know… Oh, sod it. Let’s get this dug”

I nodded, and started to clear a space over what would be the sleeping platform, remembering Cubby’s description of a domed ceiling, and as I scraped another layer of snow from overhead, I heard a squeak, followed by a creak. Lee put a hand to my ankle.

“Enfys…”

At that moment, the whole thing collapsed, slamming my face into that same sleeping platform, and my mouth filled with cold and wet. Can’t breathe…

The pull on my ankles was agonising, but I slowly slid out from a pile of loose blocks and messy powder, one part of my mind looping comments from the lectures about anomalous layers of looser stuff, and then Lee was brushing snow from my face as I spat out even more of it.

“Fuck, lass! It’s come down behind me as well! Here, gie’s the spade!”

I tried to clear the fog from my brain.

“What are you going to do?”

“Dig out and upward. Don’t trust that entry tunnel, and I want to get well away from this bit. That’s powder between two layers of wind slab. We keep going that way, the whole lot will come down. You got any damage?”

“My nose really hurts”

“Aye. Think it’s bleeding. Here; I’ll dig, you push it backwards for us”

He started his labour, and I did my best, my head still ringing, and while we moved away from the collapsed chamber, he we was digging in a prone position, and it was a nightmare struggle to move the tailings past the two of us. I have no idea how long we had been working when I heard a hiss, and Lee shouted “Fuck!”

Another hiss, and an avalanche probe slid right past my face. I grabbed at it and gave it a shake, and it stopped moving as whoever held the other end realised they had something. Within five minutes, I could hear the crunching of shovels, and Lee started poking his own spade up through the overhead snow.

A sudden explosion of light, and cold, fresh air, along with a lot of shouting. Cubby’s voice was loudest.

“Quiet! Who have we got?”

One of the other girls, Kitzy, replied.

“I’ve got Lee here!”

“What about Enfys?”

Lee replied for me.

“Just aback of my feet! She’s had a whack in the head, but I think she’s fine”

Cubby swore in a really creative way, then started issuing far more specific instructions, and as my friends digging came closer to me, they put the spades down and used their gloved hands to free me. In the end, one of them slipped a bowline around me and I was pulled uphill out of our impromptu tunnel. They tried to make me lie down on a mat, but I insisted on standing while Cubby did a quick but quite thorough head injury assessment, after I had received a series of gentle hugs.

“You’ve taken a real whack to your nose, love, but that looks to be it. We’ll get a paramedic called out to pop up from Aviemore to meet us, once we’re packed up here. Now, as part of a test of your cognitive functions, what do you think went wrong?”

“Not sure. I think lee worked it out better than I did. What was it, mate? Two layers of wind slab, with unconsolidated stuff between them?”

Lee nodded.

“That’s what it felt like. What came down on you was solid, but what buried you was all loose shit. Cubby?”

“Yes, son?”

“That would have been an avalanche on a steeper place, wouldn’t it?”

“Abso bloody lutely it would. That’s why we do this practice somewhere safe, or at least safer. Now, why did you dig the direction you did?”

“This an exam, Cubby?”

A much happier grin.

“Might as well be. We take our teaching points where we can, and this was so many of them all in one event”

“Sod you! I dug that way because I wanted to keep the slab intact, avoid getting frowned in looser crud”

“Perfect answer, Lee. Better than that was your reaction. Let’s get back down to base, check up on Enfys here, and then I intend to use your lecturer there as well as one of my colleagues”

Jordan bit.

“What for?”

Cubby’s grin was now enormous.

“Designated drivers, lad! Near miss like this, it’s pub time!”