Why a ridge is a weather decision, not just a route choice

Ridges give you the best of British hillwalking: airy walking, huge views and that wonderful sense of being strung between two valleys. They also give you nowhere to hide. On a broad path in a sheltered glen you can shrug off a squall; on the crest of a narrow arête, the same squall can knock you off balance, hide the next cairn and turn a straightforward hour into something serious.

The trick is not to pick a perfect day — there's no such thing in our hills — but to build a plan that bends when the weather does. That means doing most of the work before you leave the car park, then being willing to keep revising it as you climb.

Read the forecast like a hillwalker, not a tourist

A valley forecast tells you almost nothing about the top of a ridge. Look instead for the mountain area forecasts, which give separate summit conditions, and read four numbers closely:

• Wind speed, and gust speed. This is usually what decides whether a ridge is on. Steady 25mph is hard work; gusts above 40mph make exposed crests a battle; sustained gusts over 60mph mean you should be somewhere else entirely.
• Cloud base. A base sitting below the summits means navigation, not views. If it's forecast to drop through the day, plan for the ridge to become a compass exercise.
• Freezing level and precipitation. In winter, a freezing level below 900 metres turns wet rock into verglas and crampon territory. Cornices on lee edges are a genuine hazard in the Scottish hills.
• The trend, not the headline. A day that starts calm and ends windy is a different proposition from the reverse. Work out which half of the day you want to be high.

Check it again the night before, and again at the road end. Forecasts shift, and an hour spent replanning over a flask of tea is cheaper than a retreat in the dark.

Fix your timings before you set off

Ridge walking is slow walking. Rough, rocky ground with hands-on sections often runs at two to two and a half kilometres an hour, not the four you'd manage on a track. A useful starting point is the old rule of thumb: allow one hour for every three kilometres, plus half an hour for every 300 metres of ascent, then add time for the exposed bits.

Two habits matter more than the numbers themselves:

• Set a turnaround time and write it down. Not "we'll see how we go" — an actual time, based on when you need to be back at the car or at a bothy.
• Respect daylight. In midwinter you may have seven usable hours; in June, seventeen. Carry a headtorch regardless, and know whether your descent path is one you'd be happy to follow in the dark.

Leave your route, timings and vehicle details with someone who'll notice if you're late.

Know your escape routes before you need them

Mark them on the map at home. Ridges almost always offer descents at cols or bealachs, and these are your options when the cloud comes down or the wind picks up. But be honest about what they are: a line on a map is not a path. A steep, pathless, heathery gully is not an escape if it would put your group on loose ground with tired legs.

Ask three questions of every potential escape route:

• Is it genuinely easier and more sheltered than carrying on?
• Does it lead somewhere sensible, or just into a trackless corrie?
• Can I find it in poor visibility, and does it avoid the lee edge where cornices build?

Have one good escape and one lower-level alternative route in mind. It's far easier to turn left at a col you planned for than to invent a plan on a windy summit.

Move well on exposed ground

On the crest, keep your hands free for balance and put the poles away for any scrambling. Move one at a time through awkward steps, keep spacing so nobody is knocked into by a swinging rucksack, and keep talking — a group that stops communicating is a group that stops noticing.

Dress for wind chill rather than the temperature at the car. A windproof shell, hat, gloves and spare gloves live in the top of the pack, not the bottom. In cloud, navigate on a bearing with a map and compass as your primary tool, keeping a device as backup rather than the other way round.

Adjust as the day shifts

Treat every summit and col as a decision point. Ask the same questions each time: is the wind stronger than forecast? Is the cloud coming down? Is the group moving at the pace we planned? Small signals — spindrift streaming off the crest, a slowing tail-end, hands going numb — add up.

Turning back is not a failed day; it's the plan working. If you do commit to the crest, keep it short, keep it moving, and get off to the sheltered side as soon as the terrain allows. The hills will be there next weekend, and so will you.