17/09/2026
The rain is rattling on the roof of the van here on Skye tonight. Every so often a gust catches the van and gives it a good shake.
So I’m sitting here thinking: **what am I going to do tomorrow?**
Does a rainy day in the Cuillin mean we can’t go out?
Does it mean the day is a washout?
Not necessarily.
One of the things I spend a lot of time doing as a guide is **interpreting the weather** rather than simply looking at a forecast and deciding whether it's a “go” or “no-go” day
-Interpret the weather
Don't just look at the forecast. Try to work out what that forecast actually means on the ground—and what it is likely to feel like throughout the day.
Is the forecast improving or deteriorating?
Where is the wind coming from? How strong is it?
What's the air temperature, and what is the *feels like* temperature? Do you have the clothing and equipment to be comfortable and safe in those conditions?
Where is the cloud base? And how confident are you navigating in poor visibility?
How long has the rock been wet? Will it have any chance to dry?
And don't forget the journey to and from your route. What has the rainfall done to the rivers? Are there significant crossings?
I've had to make a 2km detour to get across a river when descending on a particularly foul-weather day.
-How much wind is too much?
I'm often asked by clients: **“How much wind is too much?”**
There isn't a simple answer.
It depends on the terrain, the direction of the wind, your experience, your equipment and—perhaps most importantly—your ability to maintain good balance and make sensible route choices in those conditions.
Ridges are obviously not the best place to be in strong winds.
But tucked underneath a crag or rock buttress can be surprisingly sheltered.
So rather than asking *“Is 40mph too much?”*, I'm thinking:
**Where can we find shelter?
What terrain can we move through safely?
And can we still make good decisions in these conditions?**
-Choose your terrain
Strong winds don't necessarily mean staying in the van. Sometimes they mean staying low, finding shelter or choosing a different aspect.
The Cuillin gives us plenty of options.
Prevailing south-westerly winds can mean that northerly and easterly aspects offer considerably more shelter. Wind speeds can also increase rapidly with height, so choosing a lower-level option can transform the feel of a day.
For example:
**The Lochan Traverse**
A Grade 3 scramble from the base of Sgùrr Sgàmain across towards the Sgàmain Stone Chute, following a basalt d**e.
It's relatively low level—the start is around the height of Lochan Coire Lagan—and doesn't gain a huge amount of height.
That can make it an interesting option when higher ground is getting battered.
**The Spur of Sgùrr an Fheadain**
This rises to around 600m and sits nicely between Sgùrr a'Mhadaidh and Bruach na Frithe, meaning it can sometimes be surprisingly sheltered from strong winds.
The lower section is slabby and there aren't many obvious belays, so you need to be confident moving securely over the terrain.
Fortunately, much of the rock is gabbro.
And gabbro, when it's dry, has **lovely friction**.
**The An Dorus Munros**
These are, of course, Munro-height mountains. But the difficulties—particularly on Sgùrr a'Mhadaidh—are concentrated largely in the lower section.
That means that even when the tops are disappearing into cloud and the wind is howling above, there can still be a manageable objective depending on the exact conditions.
-Understand the rock
This is another important part of the equation.
The Cuillin isn't simply “rock”.
It's **gabbro and basalt**, and knowing which you're standing on can make a big difference.
Good, grippy gabbro can give you excellent friction.
Wet basalt can be a very different proposition.
Being able to recognise the rock beneath your feet—and understand how it behaves when wet—is another part of making good decisions in the mountains.
-So, is tomorrow a washout?
I'll find out in the morning.
The forecast will have changed.
The rivers will tell me something.
The cloud will tell me something.
The wind will tell me something.
And, once I'm actually out there, the mountain itself will tell me a lot more.
That's the thing about mountain weather.
**The forecast is information.
It's not the decision.**
The decision comes from putting all that information together, understanding the terrain and the people you're with, and choosing an objective that makes sense for the conditions.
Sometimes that means a Cuillin summit.
Sometimes it means a scramble.
Sometimes it means finding shelter below the worst of the weather.
And sometimes, yes, it means turning around and going for coffee.
That's not losing a day in the mountains.
It's **making the most of the mountain that's actually there.**
