SNOW-CAPPED THRILLS IN THE CAIRNGORMS
Snow-capped thrills on The Lecht’s slopes
The Cairngorms slopes are a treat for skiiers of all levels.
WE’RE on one of the UK’s highest roads, surrounded by hills rising to 2700 ft. The air is crisp and clean and we can see for miles.
The Old Military Road, aka the A93, is the heart of the Cairngorms National Park and is largely isolated. It lays claim to being one of the best to drive in Europe because of its rollercoaster dips and spectacular vistas.
But we’re not here for the driving – or the views. We’re on our way to the Lecht Ski Centre – dubbed Lecht 2090 because it is based 2090 feet above sea level.
My 10-year-old may be a novice, but what she so far lacks in ski technique, she more than makes up for in enthusiasm. I skied regularly until my thirties, but now at 50-something am only just getting back into the sport, thanks to junior.
We’ve been promised The Lecht’s winter activities – with 13 runs and 12 lifts, including a three-person chairlift – are ideal for all levels of skiers and snowboarders.
It even has a ‘magic carpet’ or travelator (a bit like an airport moving walkway) which gets novices up the hill and going on day one. All they have to do is step on – music to the ears of ‘mini-me’ who winds up eating snow each time she tries what she describes as ‘the pesky poma tow.’
We pull into the car park and are conveniently just steps from the slopes and the day lodge which houses a cafe, bar, ticket office, shop, ski hire, and toilets – all under one roof.
We’re expecting long queues as we step up to collect our gear, but find the operation pretty fluid – thanks to the poetry in motion team of Colin, Alison, John, Katie and Fergus.
And in no time flat we’re on the piste. I feel an Aladdin moment coming on as we approach the nursery slopes and the magic carpets. Sporting bright pink ski pants of the Bridget Jones variety and humming ‘I can show you the world’, I elicit ‘don’t show me up’ looks from my kid who is clearly wishing she could stuff this particular genie right back in its bottle. Not much chance of that!
She couldn’t be more relieved when her instructor Russell Bolton rocks up to take her from snowplough turns to parallels. The 38-year-old dad from Alford, Aberdeenshire, has been skiing for a quarter of a century and definitely knows his stuff.
I go off to practise my technique and leave her in his capable hands. And in just over an hour she is ready to hit the higher slopes with me – but not before we’ve had lunch.
Taking hot food and drinks out on to the café terrace, we watch in silent awe as the sun spills on to the slopes and the wind sends cloud shadows scudding across the hills.
There are whole families out here sharing the sun and fun; grannies and grandpas pulling toddlers on skis and mums and dads snowboarding with teens.
The Pearce family have travelled the length of the UK. ‘Pappy’ Shaun and ‘Nana’ Alison, from Somerset, are keen to get their grandson Joshua, two, into snow sports.
And they’ve put their money where their mouth is, having driven more than 500 miles for the privilege.
With them is their son Richard, his sister and
Joshua’s mum Becky, and their respective partners. This is a family affair. Alison tells me: “We are here to ski. We’re novices but really enjoy it.”
With Joshua snuggled up and sleeping in his buggy, Becky adds: “We’d really like to get him into skiing when he’s older.”
Age, it seems, is no barrier to the sport, and neither is disability.y Charity Disability Snoww Sport UKU provides adaptive skiing instruction at The Lecht from January to March.
We chatted to one man who is paralysed from the chest down but is happy to be out on the mountain in a specially adapted ski-chair. Another was blind but still had the thrill of downhill, thanks to his specially trained guide.
As the sun begins to dip, we make the six-mile journey to the village of Tomintoul and our base, the Glenavon Hotel.
Slumped in comfy leather chairs beside its roaring open fire, we pore over the piste map and make plans for the next day.
The forecast is good and it looks set to be a belter. No one’s going to pull the rug out from under our feet – magic, or otherwise!