Babes in the hoods

When I was growing up in Aviemore, the snowsports focus was very much on Cairngorm. Even after we moved to Edinburgh, our parents rented a farmhouse in the Spey Valley, Croftcarnoch, so that we'd have a base for holidays and skiing weekends. Then, later, when my Aunt Marjorie was one of Aviemore's GPs, her rambling house adjacent to the surgery became our second home, her garage crammed with our family's skis, sticks and boots.

Cairngorm is a big mountain in terms of Scottish skiing and on a good day it stirs my soul like nowhere in the Alps or Rockies could ever do. But here I am, up from London for a winter mini-break, and it's been more or less shut for the past four days.

I've done a walk or two with my brother Sean, hiked up part of the Speyside Way with Lara, my sister-in-law, and soaked my cares away in the hot tub on their deck overlooking the river Nethy. But it's winter, and I fancy a ski.

So today I set off with Lara and a truckload of 11-year-olds, including my nephew Calum, for a qualifying round of the Scottish Schools Championships, being held at The Lecht.

Team Abernethy Primary

The Lecht is a ski hill made up of a handful of runs on either side of one of the UK's highest roads, the A939 between Tomintoul and Cockbridge in the eastern Cairngorms.

Up until 1977, keen skiers used a tractor tow and there was only room for a few cars in the lay-by next to the cattle grid. These days the place can accommodate more than 10,000 skiers per hour. What's more, it's often open when Cairngorm is shut, and it's less than an hour away.

Today's weather isn't promising, overcast with gusting winds and only a couple of pomas running. My sister Moira arrives with her primary school posse (including my niece Sula) from Banchory, over the other side of the Cairngorms.

Team Banchory's star racer Sula with coach, Mum

Everyone is buffed up, and by that I mean wearing full face protection in the shape of stretchy tubes pulled right up over the face and nose. Surely it's Scottish skiers alone who keep this industry alive.

But by the time the race starts, with tots as young as six and seven snowploughing their way down the course (there is a novice team category), the cloud has lifted and the sun is shining brightly. Next thing you know I'm squinting into the glare and wondering if I've put sun block on.

When the clouds lifted...

Skiing in Scotland. Yes, really!

The race gets underway, but there's a lot of hanging around. Calum and his pals put a chairlift that isn't running to good use. The organisers seem to have chosen a wind tunnel to locate the start-gate and kids are star-jumping and windmilling their arms to keep warm.

Waiting their turn

The race start

Calum pushes off

All our kids make it down safely and after a quick lunch – outdoors no less – it's back up to the start for the second run.

The wind has really picked up and as it whips over the brow of the mountain it picks up surface snow crystals and blasts our faces. The kids enjoy the spooky effect of the windswept snow.

Play time

Calum steps out

Calum and Angus buff up

With the race over, there's some free skiing time and we head over to the sunny side of the road and, guided by a local, find some fabulous fresh powder beyond the furthest lift.

Skiing eastwards

Finally there's the prize giving, something I haven't experienced since racing as a teenager. And nothing has changed. I have medals galore in my loft and I was one of the least promising racers. Calum comes away with the best medal haul, as it turns out he has beaten everyone in the race, including all the secondary school kids. Both his and Sula's school are through to the finals, so it's a great result all round.

Team Abernethy on top form

The moon rises as we leave