Saved by attunement in a Cairngorm blizzard from Dominic Stuart

[Any quotes are from my memory over forty-five years, and may not be verbatim.]

On one occasion a group of five of us went up in the early winter of 1977 to climb Ben MacDui – Scotland’s second highest mountain at 4293 feet above sea level, and a good hike from the Aviemore ski resort car park. Earlier that morning I knocked on the door of Adam Powell, and his partner Frances, to see if he was ready to leave. Adam, one of our most experienced hillwalkers and mountaineers, was due to accompany us. He pointed out of the window with something like: “It looks like snow to me. I am not going up and I wouldn’t recommend it.”

We ignored Adam’s warning and set off for Aviemore. As we headed up past the ski lifts the weather had cleared a bit, but the clouds looked ominous in the distance. We had passed the top of the corrie which runs below Cairngorm, passing a mountain hut to our right, when the light snow started. It was getting colder. One of our number was wearing only a plastic cape and trainers. Another’s pointed ginger beard was freezing into an icicle. We were already well up the mountain when the snow turned into a blizzard. I could barely see beyond the end of my nose. Our leader/map reader had to admit that he could no longer read the map and that we were lost.

One of us – I think it was me – suggested that we join hands and attune. Putting into practice what we were learning in the community, we connected together in the silence, reaching in to a quiet place . . . and beyond, for guidance. Quite suddenly our map-reader broke away, heading off into the snow to look for help. The rest of us stayed put. Within a few minutes, a black and white collie dog appeared out of the heavy falling snow, followed by a woman with long dark hair, black rimmed glasses and a cross expression. She chastised us like this:
“What the hell do you are you doing up on the mountain in this weather!! You are not only risking your lives, you are risking the lives of the people who might have to come up here to rescue you – and that is us!! Every year people die on this mountain. Lucky for you that we are out on patrol in this area. The chances of us meeting like this in this level of visibility are one in a million. And by the way, if you are lost up here, never separate!”

We were speechless, probably with shame and relief in equal measure. It turned out that we had walked right into the Cairngorm Mountain Rescue Team – or rather they had walked into us – and this woman was their leader. She had several men with her and they led us back down beyond the edge of the corrie – a vast drop which we could easily have walked over. Our map reader assured them that we were now on familiar ground and could continue without them.

Within a short time the snow had intensified and we were lost again. This time we went straight into an attunement. When we came out, one of us called out:
“Hey what’s that over there?”
Just visible though the blizzard was a white stone Ordinance Survey Marker. We were able to take a reading on the map and head downhill, confident that we were safe. As the top of the ski lifts came into sight, I was singing at the top of my voice a hymn which I learnt at school:
“Lead us, Heavenly Father lead us,
o’er the World’s tempestuous sea.
Guard us, guide us, keep us, feed us,
for we have no help but thee.
Yet possessing every blessing, if our God our Father be.”

We arrived back at the car hugely relieved, yet chastened. I seem to remember that back at home in the community we kept rather quiet about this experience.

Dominic Stuart