Winter walking skills for snowy fell tops

Winter changes the ground beneath your feet

A summer path up Helvellyn, the Carneddau or the Cairngorm plateau is a different creature in January. Turf that took your weight in June is now frozen hard, or buried under wind-hardened névé that behaves more like stone. Daylight is short, the wind carries a bite, and a slip that would have bruised your pride in July can become a long, fast slide. None of that means staying indoors — it means adjusting your plans before you leave the car park.

Start by cutting your ambitions. A route that takes six hours in summer can easily take nine in winter, even with a good track. Use the old rule of thumb and add a third — sometimes a half — to your estimated time, and be honest about how much ground you cover when you are breaking trail through knee-deep snow. Turnaround times matter more than summit ambitions. Tell someone where you are going, what route you intend to take and when you expect to be back.

Kit that earns its place on the hill

Crampons and an ice axe are not optional extras on snowy fell tops, they are the tools that keep you upright and, if it goes wrong, stop you. Your boots need a stiff sole and a proper heel and toe welt so the crampons stay attached rather than swivelling off your foot mid-slope.

• Sharpen your crampons. Blunt points skate on hard neve. Run a file over the downward points before each winter, and check the front points for wear.
• Check the fit at home. Every pair of boots and crampons is a marriage. Adjust the length, test the bail, then walk about the kitchen. Re-check the straps at the first snowline, not on the summit.
• Carry a general-purpose axe. A 55–65cm walking axe with a pick, adze and a shaft you can plunge into snow is right for most hill days. Hold it in the uphill hand, pick pointing behind you.
• Pack for the cold. Spare gloves, a balaclava, goggles, a flask and a headtorch with fresh batteries all earn their weight when the temperature drops and the cloud comes in.

Self-arrest: practise it before you need it

The single most useful winter skill is the one nobody wants to use. Find a safe slope of about 20–25 degrees with a clean, soft run-out well away from rocks, crevasses or a hard-frozen surface, and spend an hour falling over deliberately.

• Get rid of your poles and hold the axe by the head, pick pointing backwards, in your uphill hand.
• As you slide, roll onto your front so your head is uphill, weight pressed down through the axe.
• Drive the pick into the snow, grip the shaft near the head with your other hand and hang on, letting the axe do the work.
• Kick the edges of your boots into the slope and use them to help you stop and stand up.

Do it from your front, your back and head-first. The point is to build the reflex, because when a slope is hard and steep, you have about two seconds to react.

Cornices, wind slab and avalanche slopes

Winter snow does not lie evenly. Wind moves it, packing it into slab on lee slopes and building cornices over ridgelines. Cornices are the overhanging lips of snow that guard many a summit edge, and they can break back several metres from the apparent rim. Stay well back from any doubtful edge, especially where the snow looks fat and rounded, and avoid walking directly along a corniced crest — drop a little way down the windward side instead.

Wind slab is the classic avalanche problem on British hills: a stiff, hollow-sounding layer sitting on softer snow, often on slopes between 30 and 45 degrees, especially on convex rolls and in gullies. Check the daily avalanche forecast for the area you plan to visit, and treat those slopes as off-limits when the hazard is raised. If the snow sounds hollow underfoot or you see cracks shooting away from your boots, turn around.

Holding your line in a whiteout

In flat light, the horizon vanishes and the ground and sky merge. Distances become meaningless and it is unnervingly easy to walk a slow curve back towards where you started, or off the edge of the world. Navigate by bearing and timing rather than by eye. Take a bearing from the map, count your paces, and check your altimeter or a GPS as a backup — but keep the device warm inside a jacket, because cold drains batteries fast. Stop often, eat and drink, and resist the urge to press on simply because you cannot see how far you have left.

Knowing when to turn around

Most good winter mountaineers have a long list of hills they did not reach. Turning back because the snow is slabby, the wind is rising or the cloud has swallowed the ridge is not failure — it is the skill that keeps you coming back. Set a turnaround time and a set of conditions before you set off, and stick to them. There will always be another crisp, blue-sky morning on the fells.