Oxymoronic Scottish Weekend
The 2015/2016 winter had been mostly defined by lots of storms with stupid names, generally too windy and mild for a fair weather weekend warrior to make the longish journey north. A pleasant snowy walk in the Lakes apart my winter climbing season has had its latest start in years.
I think valentines weekend 2016 was my 3rd in a row in Scotland with the ever dependable and keen Jason Wood. Weather was looking positive for the weekend, a bit blowy Sat but should be clear. Climbing conditions were less certain as though it had been cold all week but no freeze thaw cycle to settle things down so consequently the avalanche conditions were considerable on North to North East aspects.
For a change we though we decided to head to Beinn an Dothaidh in the Bridge of Orchy area. Plus points were somewhere new to go, not as far to drive or walk in as the Ben, not as high so probably lesser snow danger and a good range of grades including a Cold Climbs Classic.
As ever luxury accommodation was utilised
In bed by midnight and up a mere 6 hours later. Unfortunately due to the parking lights gratuitously being left on we had to do some pushing due re energise our hotel. With a bit help from some fellow mountaineers we got the car to a hill. It proved a most effective warm up, though I wouldn't recommend this method.
We were walking in just after first light, the path was indistinct but was steady going. In 90 minutes we were in the base of the corrie and chatted to a bleeding scot who had just soloed Taxus, he warned us it was a bit thin at the bottom. Being localish I presumed he'd be more likely to run away if it was dodgy. Despite not being overly keen on a gully the more amenable grade of Taxus (III) compared to the mixed alternatives and the crazy scots report we opted for Cold Climbs tick.
The approach was soft going but not too bad until Jason got understandably spooked by a shift in the snow pack just below the start of the route. We headed across more rocky terrain to a belay. As we were sorting ourselves out a pair had romped up the approach slopes seemingly unconcerned by the snow and asked if they could solo ahead, we acquiesced to their request.
Soon Jason was chasing them up through the spindrift out of sight to me. As the rope slowly ran out I dismantled the belay in readiness of the typical winter joy of climbing unsure if your being belayed or simul climbing. I heard a faint safe and was on my way traipsing through the excessive spindrift trying to warm myself up after a belay stint. I was reluctantly heading towards an icy steeping in which snow was flowing down like a waterfall.
Good stick was had at the climb's crux which was good as seeing was virtually impossible for about 20 feet and the feeling was akin to be waterboarded by hail. A novel experience I hope to never repeat. The ice handily accumulated in my frozen hoods and made its way down my back. Eventually the maelstrom lessened as I escaped the crux, I ineffectually shook the hail from my back and forced myself to keep moving to reach Jason and the belay.
At the belay an attack of the worst hot aches I've ever experienced struck as my body fought back against the cold. After 5-10 minuted of bent over groaning and whining the hot aches subsided i took the rack and headed on upwards. The soloists had now roped up and weren't too far ahead of us. I'd floundered about 20 feet upwards when I saw a mass of snow explode on a small bulge above, immediate reaction head down and in, death grip on axes I hoped nothing big was coming down in the deluge. 15 seconds or so I emerged unscathed from the avalanche (I later learnt triggered by the roped soloists above on the direct finish).
Somewhat perturbed I had little option but to continue up and fortunately the ground was ok and a decent belay was found. Jason joined me and pushed the rope higher finding a spacious belay ledge where much needed glove swap and nutritional intake could comfortably occur.
It didn't look too far to finish but this proved to be deceptive. The snow was soft so I didn't hurry taking care to stomp good foot placements and attempt to find something solid for the axes. A small cornice was avoided to the left which brought me onto small ridge leading to a slope with clear signs of sheared windslab, at the time I assumed this is what hit me lower down. Felt safer to detour slightly left. Still was a long way to go. The angle wasn't steep but the snow meant slow going. No decent gear was found so didn't stop for a belay prefering to move together rather dig a rather futile bucket seat. In the 100m+ to plateau I placed 2 pieces of gear, a bulldog in some loose rock and a tied off warthog in a small blob of turf.
The large cornice was less large on a ridge line to the right. It took some discipline when in sight of safety not to rush and keep stomping the decent foot placements to safely top out. The soft snow was a concern the whole way and I've never been so relieved to be on solid flat ground.
I found a bomber boulder thread to belay off and Jason soon joined me on the plateau. Whilst I faffed with a knotty rope Jason lent an axe to assist the soloists over the cornice. It wasn't too blowy on top and we were even treated to a bit of sunshine and a view. This was much appreciated as a navigating out in a white out would of been tedious after the travails below. We were able to take a more direct descent to the cars from the top of the hill but did have to brave crossing the West Highland railway!
I took a good long loooook down the railtrack before crossing.
The best I could say of the day is that we survived, character was built and the need to be more cautious in route selection further reinforced. The car started without a push, and the agenda was digs then rugby. Unfortunately Glencoe was full so ended up in a quiet but perfectly acceptable hostel in Tyndrum. Which meant missing the rugby.
Weather was looking clear, cold but maybe a bit blowy Sunday. Discouraged by the snow conditions we headed further south to the iconic peak of the Cobbler which has more to offer than gullies.
The morning was very clear and cold and after a hearty breakfast of a Jamaican ginger cake and Pepsi Max we headed up the main tourist track as our lack of map for the area made this seem the sensible choice. Rather fittingly the stunning peak only properly reveals itself after a steady hour or so slog.
As we got got closer to the pointy peak in stunning alpine conditions one of the standout line is the South West Ridge to the left s you walk in. The gullies were looking soft and the other mixed routes were dry rock. So the ridge was the call. Despite the exceptional weather and appeal of the line I was having serious doubts about swinging the axes again after the trials and tribulations of yesterday.
However deep down I knew i'd feel better once a started climbing and with some encouragement from Jason and it was on. Jason on the sharp end and off he went with a very tricky looking mantle before soon heading out of sight but after commenting on the good frozen turf, eventually the rope went tight and I was off unsure if I was on belay or not. The move was very tricky, not finding anything encouraging for my picks, I ditched the gloves and found a crimp to start rocking over onto the ledge before picking up the axes again and finding decent turf, all quite exciting. Easy ground followed before a techy wide crack line which succumbed to a variety of methods, all very full value for a III. I reached a solid belay and sent Jaz on again. The second pitch was shorter and easier but finished with another fun sloping mantle where I found some cracking torques, the first time i had used this technique in earnest.
Time for a quality lunt on the mini summit
Before an exciting abseil
Our day then turned sour with a stuck abseil rope. After much pulling and chuntering didn't shift it Jason found a way back up to top for a rejiggle, another ab and this time they pulled fine. Put a small downer on an otherwise glorious day. We bagged the summit proper and started heading down. Being amazed by the number of questionably attired people still heading up gone 2 in the afternoon.
In Tarbet we treated ourselves to a haggis and chips washed down with fizzy girder juice. Jason inhaled his in about 3 seconds.
A cracking and varied weekend, two 3 star routes climbed in areas I'd never previously visited in polar opposite conditions. Though Saturdays experience further reinforced the importance of not accepting poor conditions and going for a walk/to the pub when its not right. This particular weekend there were numerous fatalities across the highlands and the time of writing a week later a young couple are still missing on the Ben.
Stay safe on the hills folks, they aren't going anywhere so walk away when its not right.
