"When the snow comes, the car parks fill. Word spreads quickly, a good week, a belter of snow, and by mid-morning the access roads are tight with hatchbacks, hire skis and cautious optimism. In Scotland, the difference between a strong season and a poor one can be a weather front drifting 10 miles too far north. A thaw, a gust, a band of rain, and everything changes."
"Clear skies are rare, though over the seven days spent shooting in Scotland's ski resorts, I had two clear, blue-sky days. Flat light is common. The cold on the mountains can be bracing, but it toughens you up. Sleeping in the camper van at the base was challenging. Blizzards one night. Conditions can turn within minutes, and good days are shortlived."
"During the Covid lockdowns, some of the best snow in years lay untouched. Blue skies, empty slopes, and no one allowed to use them. Frustration hung in the air, a season that looked perfect but remained out of reach. Lunch break at altitude in Glenshee. Gloves off, helmets on, cafe open the Scottish Alps, briefly. There is no glamour here, no polished Alpine certainty. There are tired legs and small private victories. The cafe becomes a checkpoint. The queue is its own discipline."
Snowfall triggers rapid surges of visitors to Scotland's ski areas, filling car parks and clogging access roads within hours. Weather variability determines season success, with thaws, gusts and rain capable of undoing prospects within minutes. The notion of staging Winter Olympic-style events in Scotland reframes how climate, people and place interact, revealing rougher, less glamorous conditions. Camping at bases, blizzards and fleeting clear days shape the experience. Visitor numbers now exceed just skiers, straining hire, ticketing and cafes that act as social checkpoints. Even after lockdowns left slopes empty, people return when snow arrives.
Read at www.theguardian.com
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