#sneachda

[backgrounds-for-ads]

Ceannaich dealbh craobh na Nollaige Santa Claus

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[mali-umkin]

I have one problem in life and it's not being in Edinburgh rn when it's snowed

[icykyurem2224]

My number of Kyurem is now 16, Here are now my Kyurem from Japanese BW, SV and USUM

Yuki and Kösetsu (Japanese for Snow and Snowfall respectively) in White and Black respectively was basically a race against the clock to make sure I got it done on time, They completed my set of Kyurem from the Japanese Gen 5 games, I also transferred the box legendaries aswell.

Xue and Bing (Their names mean Snow and Ice in Chinese), my now current and most recent Kyurem from Violet and Scarlet respectively as of 2024, Both had a different method of obtaining which involved doing a Group Quest and soft resetting until Mr. Snacksworth gave you the Kyurem Treat which proved to be tedious, especially since BBQs aren't my favorite and you can only get Kyurem via Group Quests, which is absolutely frustrating…..to the point I actually did one when I managed to access Blueberry Academy in Scarlet then again so I could get the opposite Legendary (Zekrom in Scarlet, Reshiram in Violet) never again...

Sneachda and Oighear (Their names mean Irish for Ice and Snow) were a bit more easier to obtain, They were actually my 13th and 14th Kyurem transferred but I still had plans for a set of Kyurem from Japanese Gen 5 games so once I had them and SV could finally let them in, they stayed in SV where they are now today, Their circumstances thankfully didn't involve trading, Thanks to the Legendary Pokémon 2018 event, the event Reshiram and Zekrom proved to be useful as the requirements were a Reshiram and Zekrom proved to be useful as the requirements were a Reshiram and Zekrom in the party in the Water World but both were usually version exclusive to Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon respectively, so if you missed out on the events, you would have to trade them.

My 10 Kyurem and my precious babies

Fūikèihsī and Kuíqísī from Sword and Shield respectively are my highest levelled and also my most cherished

Cailleach and Boreas from Alpha Sapphire and Omega Ruby are fairly recent due to me having to have both a Reshiram and Zekrom in ORAS to catch them and it was worth it, they’re both my precious ice and wind gods, Their names come from the Scottish and Irish goddess of winter and the Greek god of the cold north wind, storms and winter

Icedude and Ice Cold from my Black and White save are the oldest of my 10 Kyurem, Icedude was a blast to battle and train with and I do feel a bit bad I didn’t get to spend more time with him.

Kyu-Kyu and Kyurem (No nickname) from White 2 and Black 2 were also the second oldest and transferred fairly recently too, Kyu-Kyu became a very close friend.

Kōri (こうり) and Kyurem (キュレム) from Japanese White 2 and Japanese Black 2 respectively, Kyurem came from a Japanese save file that originally wasn’t mine that came with a DSi and I kept him to make up for deleting what I presumed was a corrupted save on White 2, unbeknownst to me to the White 2 save’s previous save, the game crashed due to a faulty network chip with the DS Lite I was using and Kōri was caught on the more recent White 2 save file, Kōri was accidentally burned by a Tyranitar’s Fire Blast to weaken her while she was low on health and I had to use a Master Ball on her.

[tommymacsblog]

Heading up to the ice of Alladin’s Mirror Direct pitch, Coire an t-Sneachda, Northern corries, Cairngorm mountains. In here Mark Hitchings & Andrew Wright, Kinloss buddies day out. Photo by Tom MacDonald, Jan 1985.

[anarchotolkienist]

Sneachda 's reòthadh o thuath

[scotianostra]

A Gaelic Poem on the Massacre of Glencoe.

There are few events in the history of the Scottish Highlands more notorious than the Massacre of Glencoe, it has been the subject of, books, songs and poems, like this one by the Gaelic poet  Iain Lom, Bàrd na Ceapaich,reading about the history of people are as interesting as the verse they wrote, although many of them may not have been able to read or write, the poems being passed through the storytellers. Lom, anglicised to  Iain Lom MacDonald was a native of Lochaber and was born about the year 1624. He was a descendent of Iain Àlainn or 'Handsome John', the deposed chief of Keppoch.

While historical documentary evidence on his life is nearly non-existent, what we do know is largely based on oral tradition.  

Iain Lom had extensive knowledge of the Bible, Scottish history and was well acquainted with all the political and contemporary events of his day. He was a man of strong convictions and sincerity who had a vast amount of influence over the Jacobite chiefs of his time. He had superior poetic abilities and was a renowned Gaelic bard.

It is thought by some that he had a good education, but it's more likely that he could neither read nor write. It's not clear whether he was married but he had a son who fought under John Graham, 7th Laird of Claverhouse better known as 'Bonnie Dundee' in the Battle of Killiecrankie in 1689 and had considerable poetic skills himself.

After being involved in the notorious events commemorated in 'Murtadh na Ceapaich',  (The Keppoch Murder) Iain Lom was forced to flee from Lochaber and seek protection under the MacKenzies of Seaforth in Kintail. Once the hostility against him had cooled down and after living a dangerous life full of political and domestic troubles, he finally returned from exile but died in extreme poverty in about 1710. He was buried in Cille Choirill in a place named 'Tom Aingeal' in the braes of Lochaber.  I will add a link at the end to the story behind 'Murtadh na Ceapaich', from the excellent  Calum Maclean Project  

The poem is posted in the format I found it with the stanzas numbered. For those that have the Gaelic, or can even pick up a few words it might be of interest, if not skip down to the translation.

Original Text

1. ’S mi ’am shuidh’ air a’ chnocan Chaidh mo léirsinn an olcas Is mi mar aon mhac an trotain air m’ fhàgail.

2. Tha mi coimhead a’ ghlinne Far am b’ aighearach sinne Mur bhith mì-rùin na fine ’s an robh an fhàilinn.

3. Rinn na Duibhnich oirnn leadairt Ar fuil uasal ’ga leagail ’S bha Gleann Lìomhann ’na sheasamh mar cheannard.

4. Ach nam b’ ionnan d’ ur macnas ’S nuair bha mise ’nur taice Nàile! Rachadh iad dhachaidh ’nan deann-ruith.

5. Bhiodh MacFhilip le ’bhrataich Air tùs na fine neo-ghealtaich Ged a fhuair iad an nasgadh le ainneart.

6. A MhicEanraig nam feadan ’S tric a bha mi ’s tu beadradh Leis a’ mhuinntir a ghreas don taigh-shamhraidh.

7. Clann Iain nan gadhar Rinn na h-uaislean a thadhal Gu moch Di-Sathairn’ a’ chuthaich gun chàirdeas.

8. Dh’fhàg sibh marcaich’ an eich uaibhrich Reubt’ air ruighe nan ruadh-bhoc Ann an sneachda trom fuar nam beann àrda.

9. Dh’fhàg sibh làraichean dubha Far am b’ àbhaist duibh suidhe ’N comann luchd an fhuilt bhuidhe chais amlaich.

10. Fhir Bhail’ Fearna nam badan Bu cheann-fheadhn’ thu air brataich Is chaidh smùid a chur ri t’ aitreabh ’na smàlaibh.

11. Bha do cho-bhràthair guailte Deagh fhear Bhaile nam Fuaran Leam is goirt e, ’s an uair air dhroch càradh.

12. Ach mas deònach le’r Rìgh e Bidh là eile ’ga dhìol sin Agus Maighdeanan lìobhte ’cur cheann diubh.

13. Bidh na Tuirc air an dathadh ’S bidh Rìgh Uilleam ’na laighe ’S bidh cùird mhór air an amhaich dhen an-toil.

14. B’ e mo rogha sgeul éibhneis Moch Di-Luain is mi ’g éirigh Gun tigeadh Rìgh Seumas ’s na Frangaich.

15. ’S gum biodh iomain ball-fhaiche Air fir mheallt’ nam balg craicinn Loisg ar n-arbhar ’s ar n-aitreabh ’s a’ gheamhradh.

English Translation

(1) I sit on the hillock, my eyesight has failed me, as I am left behind like a toddling only son.

(2) I gaze at the glen where we would be merry, if not for the ill-will of the blemished clan.

(3) The Campbells massacred us, our noble blood being shed, as (Campbell of) Glenlyon stood as commander.

(4) If only you prospered as you did when I was with you, they would go homeward in a rush!

(5) MacKillop would have his war-banner in the vanguard of the indomitable clan, even though they were hemmed in by violence.

(6) O Henderson of the (bagpipe) chanters, often did we sport and play with those folk who hastened to the summer abode (i.e., sheiling).

(7) Clan Donald of Glencoe, (owners) of greyhounds, were visited by the nobility until the early Saturday of brutal frenzy.

(8) You left the horseman of the proud spirited chargers gored on the sheilings of the roe-bucks in the cold, heavy snows of the great mountains.

(9) You left charred ruins where you were once seated in the company of the people of flowing, ringleted, blonde hair.

(10) O tacksman of Baile Fhearna of the thickets, you were the war-bannered war-leader, and your abode was burnt to ashes.

(11) Your dear companion, the goodly tacksman of Baile nam Fuaran, was charred (by fire): an ill hour it was that makes me sore.

(12) But if our King grants it, there will be another day to avenge that, when the sharpened Maidens will behead them.

(13) The boars (i.e., Campbells) will be stained (with blood) and King William brought down, and there will be heavy cords around their necks bringing them misery.

(14) It would be my choice of good news, awakening early on Monday morning, that King James and the French would come.

(15) And that the deceiving men of haversacks, who burnt our corn and our homes in the winter, would be driven back (as though playing) a ball-game.

Catch more about Lom and The Keppoch Murders here https://calumimaclean.blogspot.com/2013/09/murt-na-ceapaich-keppoch-murder-1663.html

[theunusualworldoficeclimbing]

The message and hidden chimney : Mess of Pottage, Coire an t-Sneachda, Cairn Gorm

[tdobson]

These photos are of a day that never happened. This day won't be talked about. No-one will tell stories about it. In mountaineering, we often only share stories of the epics. The epic successes or the epic epics. These photos show the moments shortly after backing off a loose and avalanchy-feeling winter route. After these photos, we packed up, walked home and drove back to Manchester. The right decision was made to turn round - just as it had been the right decision to go up and look at it. Nobody talks about sensible but boring decision making. It's not exciting. It's not noteworthy. Nobody mentions it. As a newbie in the outdoors, I made a number of type 2/3 fun errors because I didn't realise that wise people would make sensible but boring decisions like these. So here you are - some photos and a story of a sensibly boring trip. Fun fact: this was the third time I'd walked into Coire An t'Sneacha this winter - on the first day it'd been easy, second day it'd felt reasonably tough. On this day, the walk in itself felt like a mission. Conditions make a difference. (at Coire an t-Sneachda) https://www.instagram.com/p/CANGkSEDm8r/?igshid=yrk2rhpujd37

[builttosend]

@brit_mt_guides @jamesthacker immersed in the technicalities of Scottish mixed climbing in Coire an t-Sneachda. On ‘Honey Pot’ IV,6 trying to give his @builttosend X0 a hammering. Click link in bio to get your @builttosend pack for the last of the winter season. @mountain_assurance @jamesthacker @thethatcherboy #winterclimbing  #iceclimbing  #tradisrad  #tradclimbing  #britishmountainguides  #builttosend  #scottishwinter (at Coire an t-Sneachda) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9wh0RxHolP/?igshid=iws1veyurcfn

[release-info]

আমি সোহাগ: Tha an sealladh seo den t-sneachda na shealladh brèagha den […] https://ift.tt/2P3GnI2

[theiaincameron]

Beinn Bhrotain - An autumn walk into last winter

I had long lost count of the trips I’d made into the hills that year. Twenty? Thirty? Who knows.

Spring 2015’s obdurate refusal to pass on the seasonal baton had left the high peaks and passes of the Cairngorms looking unusually snowy in early summer. The dreadful cliffs that rise vertiginously from many of Braeriach’s seemingly innumerable corries had a full winter jacket on, yet it was now June. At the same time, the pregnant-like summit bump of Ben Macdui rose white and unblemished above everything else within sight.

Summer passed, though. Much of the snow melted, of course, but, still, relics of winter and spring remained across Am Monadh Ruadh into September and even October. It was no exaggeration to say that the scene was a facsimile of one from many summers past. John Taylor, the king’s self-styled Water Poet, who journeyed to Braemar in 1610, would have recognised it:

There I saw Mount Ben Avon, with a furred mist upon his snowy head instead of a nightcap: (for you must understand, that the oldest man alive never saw but the snow was on the top of divers of those hills, both in summer, as well as in winter.)

In a normal year – so far as any year in these parishes can be thus described – counting the number of patches of snow that endure to the 10th month of the year would be an exercise able to be conducted over the course of a weekend. Not that year. For some time leading up to the start of October my Saturdays and Sundays, as well as a good chunk of my annual leave entitlement from work, was given over to what sometimes felt like a never-ending circle of repeat visits to the inaccessible nooks and crannies of Scotland’s highest tops, gathering data for the annual snow patch paper I co-authored for the Royal Meteorological Society.

The 24th of October saw one such visit. That day’s target was the immense bulk of Beinn Bhrotain – the hill of the mastiff. Like so many of its Cairngorms’ brethren this hill has a whale-like appearance from distance. Traverse around its northern flank, however, and the rolling countenance is brutally sliced open by the shattered and splintered granite cliffs above Glen Geusachan. Fortunately for me, no lover of heights or steep cliffs, my path was to be more benign.

Cycling from the spate-engorged Linn o’ Dee at daybreak I made for White Bridge. Though progress on two wheels would have been easier on the east side of the infant River Dee, its fording would have been impossible, given the quantity of rain that was now trying earnestly to get back to the sea whence it emanated. Wiser counsel suggested the western approach, crossing the bridge over the Geldie – which swells the Dee to double its size – and on towards the foot of the hill.

Arriving at White Bridge I paused briefly and marked the clouds that were lifting. The mature orange and browns of the now-dormant autumn vegetation were in stark contrast to the gleaming white of Ben Macdui and Braeriach, whose top 500 ft were resplendent in a castor sugar-covering of fresh snow. It was then, also, that I caught my first glimpse of the mastiff’s white spot. It was exactly where reported: sitting in the upper reaches of Coire an-t Sneachda – the corrie of the snow. The Gaels were, apparently, noting long-lasting snow locations hundreds of years ago.

Onwards.

But, alas, not for long. The normally placid Allt Iarnaidh, which drains but a small area of the southern slopes of Beinn Bhrotain, was a seething, foaming torrent of angry water. Luckily, just upstream, its course was constricted by a narrowing of the gully, and a simple hop over with the bike was sufficient to overcome what would have otherwise been an insuperable barrier.

Ten minutes or so later I was at the barely-discernible start of the path which led up the course of the Allt Garbh – the rough burn. This handsome brook reached upwards right into the heart of the hill, emanating directly from the snowy corrie that I was aiming at. For the next three miles or so it would be my noisy but unwavering companion.

The terrain was in no hurry to lend me height. A slow and steady upwards march through thick, tussocky grass and heather necessitated close proximity to the chatty Allt Garbh, which cascaded over virgin granite outcrops, stripping anything unlucky enough to grow within its cold reach.

Eventually, some two hours after parking the bike, I reached the corrie. Last year’s patch of snow sat in a large hollow just below the horizon’s edge. On easier terrain I made for it, noticing a large inverted ‘V’ carved in its southern edge. I knew immediately what this meant: a tunnel.

But this was surely no ordinary tunnel. It was one that had been months in the making. Water and wind had carved it out, with summer and winter failing to defeat the patch it ran the length of. Excitedly, I made for it.

I approached the opening and peered in. Seldom had I seen anything like it in Scotland. I crouched, motionless, scarcely able to take in what was in front of me. A cold wind, far cooler than the ambient air temperature, passed across my face. Coldness that was laid down some 11 months previously was being liberated even now.

Mighty pillars of white snow supported this edifice on either side of the rivulet that issued from the tunnel mouth. Above these columns sat an arch of translucent blues and whites, caused by thinning snow being pierced by the daylight. The mosses of luminous green and the pink granite blocks added to the kaleidoscope of colours.

I drank it all in, unsure if I would ever come to this location again and witness such a spectacle. Four years on, with Scotland’s semi-perennial snow patches in retreat, my doubts were seemingly well founded.

[coastalcreativearts-blog]

“Highland Harmony” Inspired by the Autumn colours of the Stob Coire an t-Sneachda in the Cairngorms. #art #arte #craft #artesanato #woolenmandala #inspitationalscotland #creativity #creatividade #inspirational #handmade #textilart #textileartist #artistatextil #handmadeinscotland (em Cairngorms National Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0dJ87HD99i/?igshid=1xbqr0h70fz02

[rjzimmerman]

Here are a few of them:

Tuckerman Ravine is a glacial cirque scooped out on the southeast side of Mt. Washington in New Hampshire’s White Mountains. (Photo: Msheppard/Wikimedia Commons)

Cirques: Erosion from moving Ice Age glaciers scooped out many amphitheater-shaped mountain valleys called cirques. These basins are typically encircled by high cliffs on three sides with an open section on the downhill, or lip, side where the glacier once flowed away. Imagine a tilted bowl.

Cirque stairways are a succession of cirques sitting one above the other like steps. Zastler Loch in the Black Forest of Germany is an example of a cirque stairway with three glacially carved basins.

Other notable cirques: Tuckerman Ravine (New Hampshire), Cirque of the Towers (Wyoming), Coire an t-Sneachda (Scotland) and Sniezne Kotly (Poland).

Portion of Alaska’s Denali Highway built on an esker. (Photo: James Brooks/flickr)

Eskers. Cousins of moraines, eskers are deposits of sand and gravel that formed in long, winding, serpent-like ridges where debris-laden meltwater once gushed through ice-walled tunnels inside and under retreating glaciers. When the tunnels melted, sediment was deposited in snaking mounds that followed where the streams had run, often for hundreds of miles. Many highways are built on top of Ice Age eskers to cut costs, including the Denali Highway in Alaska and the “Airline Highway” segment of Route 9 in Maine.

Other notable eskers: Great Esker Park (Weymouth, Massachusetts), Mason Esker (Michigan), Kemb Hills (Aberdeenshire, Scotland), Thelon Esker (border between the Northwest Territories and Nunavat in Canada), Uppsalaasen (Sweden) and Esker Riada (system of eskers stretching across the center of Ireland).

Transcendental author and naturalist Henry David Thoreau chronicled his two-year stint living beside Walden Pond, a deep, 64-acre kettle lake. (Photo: Amy Meredith/flickr)

Kettle lakes. Thousands of prehistoric pools, left by retreating glaciers some 12,000 years ago, dot North America, northern Europe and other formerly ice-covered landscapes around the world. These kettle lakes formed when giant ice chunks broke off as glaciers receded and were surrounded or covered by stones, soil and other debris flowing from the meltwater. When the ice chunks finally melted, what remained were bowl-shaped holes called kettles. Over the millennia many filled with water from precipitation and streams to form lakes and ponds.

Notable kettle lakes: Walden Pond (Concord, Massachusetts), Lake Ronkonkoma (Suffolk County, New York), Lake Annette (Jasper National Park, Alberta, Canada) and Seeon Lakes (Bavaria, Germany).

Kame in Fond Du Lac County, Wisconsin. (Photo: Royal Broil/flickr)

Kames. These irregularly shaped hills and mounds are similar to moraines and other elevated glacial formations, but they were created in a slightly different way. As glaciers dissolved, depressions and crevasses often formed in the ice and filled with meltwater carrying rocks and gravel. The debris in these holes finally reached the land below and was deposited in a lump. Kames tend to show up in irregular spots and may not be near other kames. However, they are often associated with kettle holes (referred to as kame and kettle topography).

Notable kames: Minnitaki Kames Provincial Park (Ontario), Mendon Ponds Park (near Rochester, New York), Sims Corner Eskers and Kames National Natural Landmark (Washington State).

[tommymacsblog]

Heading into Coire an t-Sneachda for a walk and some botanising for Hieracium alpina section species, Cairngorm Mountain. 23/7/2021. Photo credit; Janice MacDonald.

[i-was-bored-so-this-happened]

HOWEVER, there was a second part to this dream. When I woke up I went downstairs, but I felt really ill so I decided to stay home from school and go back to sleep, and I ended up in the second instalment of the dream, which has never happened before.

I was alone. The trailer wasn’t there, my dad wasn’t there, the house wasn’t there, but I was on a beach and I was still holding those red shells, right? Oh, and I was in France. I don’t know how I know I was in France, but I was just walking along this stony beach like, “Hey, I’m in France!” and I started thinking about the things I did when I was last in France...which was about ten years ago, when I was really wee. 

Lo and behold, I walked off the beach and into the Botanical Gardens in Paris. In the zoo. I went up to a specific section I remembered and asked a zookeeper how the snow leopard was, because I remember there was a very unhappy snow leopard there. Thing was, I asked the zookeeper this in Gaelic? Because I didn’t know the French? Ciamar a tha an liopard sneachda a bha an seo deich bliadhna air ais? And I was asking over and over again because the snow leopard wasn’t there and I was really worried about it, but the guy wasn’t answering me.

I can’t really remember what happened next, but next thing I knew I was in the Gallery of Palaeontology and Comparative Anatomy. You know, the Bone place, I talk about it a lot for not being able to remember it. There was someone there with me, I know there was, but I couldn’t see them. That happens a lot in my dreams, there are people there but their faces very rarely actually have detail. Usually I can feel who they are, like how I could feel I was in France. Whoever it was, we were having a great time wandering around the bones. I remember looking at a drawing of one of the fossils, but it was in like, a notebook rather than it was part of the exhibit. 

The giant ammonite was still on the wall at the stairs. We stood there and stared at it for a while and I thought about how much I must have grown since the last time I was there. I was imagining Baby Rae standing there and doing the same thing ten years ago, because the first time I saw it I stood there for like ten minutes and lost my family because they’d kept going without realising I was still on the stairs staring at this huge ammonite.

And then it was over.

OH WAIT I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU GUYS ABOUT THE DREAM I HAD THE OTHER NIGHT

[ewandwhoelse]

The joys of being able to climb on a weekday, sometimes everything comes together! Incredible weather and no crowds or queues. Up Aladdin’s Couloir in Coire an t-Sneachda and down Fiacaill Ridge. What’s almost as exciting is that there’s more snow in the forecast, I'm loving all this winter! Nepal may be over a year away but I'm already counting the days.