In an area dominated by high arctic plateaux, the Cairngorms are the very highest. The mountains in this part of Scotland are perhaps not the most spectacular, with rounded flanks and gently undulating summits, but the great distances and harsh climate can make them a challenge for the mountain traveller.

Of course harsh climate is a relative term. In one sense these mountains are amongst the driest of all the highland areas in the UK, with the prevailing south-westerlies dumping most of the precipitation in the west. But when the north wind blows, it brings abundant snow to this part of Scotland, and that snow can stick around for quite a while.

Cairn Toul in the western Cairngorms

As these mountains were closest to home when I was a kid, I grew up tramping their heather-clad slopes. From Mount Keen, the most easterly of the Munros to the top of Ben Macdhui, the second highest mountain in Scotland (and in the British Isles for that matter), in Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, I got to know and love these hills.

I've been roasted by the heat of the sun and glad of the coolness of a snowfied, while in winter I've had my eyes freeze shut as an arctic gale and whiteout made a trek across the summit plateau into a life or death struggle.

There are too many great memories to put down on one page, but a few stick in my mind more than others.

Like the winter trip where we climbed Sgairneach Mhor (one of the mountains you see to the west as you travel up the A9 and through the Drumochter Pass). The conditions underfoot (see right) made for slow progress with deep snow making every step a bit of a struggle. Eventually though, we made the summit, and of course the obvous way to get back down was to sit on our bivvy bags and slide! It was the longest sledge run I've ever made.

My Mother (bless her) has always been concerned for my welfare on these, to her eyes, hare-brained trips. She used to insist on making a proper packed lunch when in truth I was happy to chomp through lots of chocolate bars.

On the bleak tops between Glas Maol and Cairn of Claise I searched for a sheltered spot to gulp down some hot coffee and have something to eat. My friend Scott and I had both been supplied with packed lunches by Mum and we cowered behind a boulder in sub-zero temperatures trying to open the tightly tied plastic wrap of the lunch packs with numb fingers.

It was when we reached the paper napkins that we both fell about laughing. What on earth were we supposed to do with paper napkins when our hands were so cold we had to eat our sandwiches with our mitts on?

Shelter Stone Crag in the heart of the Cairngorms

The Forestry Commission Loch Morlich campsite

One New Year, Scott and I climbed Beinn a Ghlo in Perthshire. The snow had fallen thick and fast on Hogmany and had stayed to see in January with a vengeance. Once again the snow slowed us down and by the time we made it to the top of the first of Beinn and Ghlo's three summits it was already afternoon and whilst the views all around were vast, a biting wind made lingering an uncomfortable pastime.

We had donned crampons on the way up due to the icy conditions and kept them on to make our descent. However conditions underfoot were awkward and uncomfortable.

So uncomfortable was it that we eventually set off directly down the steep windward side of the mountain where the snow had been frozen by the wind into a crampon friendly crust.

We made rapid progress until we reached a point where the crust began to get very thin and friable and snow started to ball up in the crampons. Here we decided to stop and remove the spikes and then started off again downhill. I had not put my axe away unlike Scott who had strapped his to his rucsac and so when I took a brief tumble on the ice covered snow he decided on a glissade.

Big mistake.

He shot off with great abandon and a wild whoop but by the time he drew level with me his descent had become somewhat rapid and his expression changed from one of exhilaration to one of terror. He disappeared down hill at a great rate of knots and a yell before an enormous spume of powder snow exploded several hundred feet below marking the point where his descent had come to a sudden halt.

I hurried downhill to reach a pair of legs sticking out of a great drift of snow then extricated a dazed Scott who seemed to have snow in every possible orifice and inside his clothes to boot.

"Shit! That was bloody scary!" he exclaimed while I lay in the snow helpless with laughter.

The Northern Corries of Cairngorm

Looking down to the Lairig Ghru from the top of Ben Macdhui