So, today, most people chose easier routes that could be climbed safely in rotten conditions. A few headed to Ben Nevis, about an hour and a half’s drive away, in hopes of finding climbable ice on the upper reaches of Scotland’s highest peak. (New Hampsherite Freddie Wilkinson, one of America’s strongest young alpinists, returned that night beaming that he had done a route, the Northeast Buttress of Ben Nevis, that was first climbed in 1896.) My host, Paul Seabrook, suggested Fingers Ridge in Coire an t’Sneachda, and it proved to be a good call. A snow-dappled slab gained a rock ridge. Bits of snow, occasional soggy ice, lots of rock climbed in tools and crampons—all culminating on the fourth pitch with a series of short rock towers that we weaved around and climbed over.

Good stuff, but I wondered about the effectiveness of the Scottish ethic for protecting the rock. The big holds on Fingers Ridge were worn and bright-colored by winter traffic; the light covering of snow and hoar frost wasn’t protecting them from tools and crampons. The frost didn’t necessarily even make climbs harder: It outlined the edges on blank-looking walls, making them easier to find. So what was the point?

Back at Glenmore Lodge for afternoon tea and cakes, I tried to get an explanation out of James Edwards, a teacher who lives near Inverness, and Steve Ashworth, a young guy from England's Lakes District who is pushing the limits of winter climbing in Britain. The two argued that, although the ethic is ineffective at preventing rock damage, it is nonetheless essential. In part it preserves “turf,” the clumps of frozen dirt, moss, and other vegetation that provide critical tool and front-point placements, and even protection points with Specters or Warthogs driven into the stuff. Many climbs have gotten harder as the turf erodes away, which happens much faster when the turf isn’t frozen. Scotland’s strict ethics (which also include no bolts and only doing ground-up, onsight ascents), along with long approaches and stormy weather, have held down standards; the hardest Scottish climbs are nowhere near as difficult technically as sport-mixed routes elsewhere. But that seems fine with most Brits. Ian Parnell said, “ The cliffs are often so short that ground-up climbs are the best way to preserve the adventure.” Said Ashworth: “It’s all about giving the cliff a chance.”

The forecast called for a cold snap on Day Three. It seemed the cliffs would have their chance.