Spring has Spranged with Shingles

The days have been getting longer so my climbing thoughts move away from snow and ice to my preferred rock. My winter season was a short one but fulfilling. A snowy walk in the Lakes another in Wales with a bit of scrambling up Pen Ole Wen in ok weather. Plus 2 weekends in Scotland with 3 out of 4 perfect blue sky days is an acceptable return for me.
Winter action is still to be had but I want rock. From the end of February I've managed a couple of post work bouldering sessions at Almscliff getting no further on long standing projects after a winter 'training' on the plastic. One winter I'll train properly and get stronger.

It feels important to me have a good start to the Trad season, not scare yourself silly too early. Last year felt a late and slow start. My first route of the season involved my first ever rescue as I was unwilling to attempt the increasingly sodden mud slope finish of a HS at Smugglers Terrace. Rain, Dodgy rock and gear below resulted in requesting and receiving a helpful rope from above.

This year ill health has thrown a shingle in the works. After a weekend in Wales I developed a rash and unwelcome pain in my back. I was a proper brave soldier about it but as the rash spread a look on the NHS site resulted in a diagnosis of shingles. I only climbed on Monday and Thursday during the week. A visit to the walk in centre confirmed this. My shingles was the highest the nurse had ever seen! It effects a small band of the nervous system (for me T4). If I'd gone earlier some anti virals could of helped nothing to do now but suck it up and wait for it to disappear in 2-4 weeks.

The weekends weather was good but combination of Shingles, and other life duties resulted in no climbing but lots of sofa sprawling and rugby watching so not a bad weekend. Was distressing looking at sunny pictures of climbing popping up on my news feed (but not as distressing as Wales first half performance against England) but rest was needed and enjoyed.

I escaped on to rock Monday enjoying a light solo session at sunny Scugdale. The following weekend the forecast was a bit dreary but should be dry. Day trips both days were the plan, Saturday we tried Corby's crag in Northumberland as I was keen to go somewhere I'd hadn't been to before. The Rockfax guidebook intimated it was a year round crag with limited seepage. As soon as we walked down to the crag it was immediately obvious this was lies (the UKC logbook description describes it as a summer crag).
The views though claggy were lovely as the book suggested including a ruined castle.

The rock varied from sopping wet to mostly dry and always sandy. Took me a while to select a suitable route to warm up on. The start to the classic severe Plonka was unfortunately wet so plumped for nearby HS called Overunder which follows a groove line to a small bulge. The start looked tricky and the finish a juggy romp. The opposite was true. Plenty of little edges might the start steady but the rounded moist and sandy flake made the moves around the bulge tricky. Well protected and ok route but I was huffing and puffing more than I expect for a route of its grade due to conditions. Exactly not what I want at the start of the trad season.

Overunder is flake line to right of wide crack

I brought my lovely partner up, group psyche was low so one more token route the excessively sandy Mr Jones and home in time to watch 2/3rds of the days excellent 6 Nations action.

Sunday dawned bright and sunny and optimism of a warm day on the crag ensued. A lazy start and evening commitments meant a local mission was required. We arranged to meet up a few other Cleveland MC members at the trusty Wainstones.
It rained on and off on driving to Clay Bank which was dispiriting but we kept going. It didn't rain on the 30mins walk in and we bumped into Mike on the way. Brian and Jonny were already climbing damp looking rock when we arrived. With mixed feelings I racked up and led a route I always solo. It was pretty moist and unpleasant but the token 1 route was in the bag which looked like might be all the day had to offer. Fortunately it brightened up a bit and the rock dried. We even had almost 5 minutes of sunshine at one point. Nothing new to me was climbed but was good to placing gear again and enjoying a bit of banter with mates. Brian was most disappointed at Nik dispatching the tricky crux of Christopher with ease. His lack of height excuse no longer valid.

Mike on the Indian Face of Wainstones

My trad season has begun, not spectacularly but safely and have much better weather and conditions to hopefully look forward to.

Desolation of Smaug

From the Archives, climbed in May 2015

The Desolation of Smaug!

The spring bank holiday loomed and with my both  good buddy Jurgen and the Swaledale outdoor club heading to N Wales it was the obvious place to go. And for a change instead of the comfy confines of my van I joined the SOC in the salubrious surroundings of the Lincoln MC hut in Deinolen.
A few texts with Jurgen confirmed plan A of heading into Twll Mawr (the big hole) and trying to escape via The Desolation of Smaug! one of the new breed of multi pitch sport routes born of the hard work of Ian Lloyd Jones and others.
After feverish anticipation Saturday morning arrived and a prompt meeting at the Bus stop parking for 9am. A short gear faff ensued just a pile of quick draws and a pair of ropes were packed. Jurgen had researched the best way into Twll Mawr and we soon found Golgotha (the place of the skull!) and entered its mouth.

TheSkull

The tunnel led us into the big hole, after spying out landmarks we found the start of our route and made our way over the unstable scree to start racking up. The fairly straightforward approach was almost a dissappointment. The humming from the power station added to the trepidation but not as much as the wet looking first pitch (6b+).

The Wall

The first pitch fell to Jurgen and more unfriendly warm up is hard to imagine. A wet, off balance groove type thing was despatched with little rest/fall at the crux. A fine effort by Jurgen. I only made it by grabbing a quick draw which didn't fill me with confidence for the next 6c pitch many believe to be the crux. The dripping start didn't add to confidence and there is a nice pillar to hit if you fluff the start.
I didn't fluff the start and soon hit some dry rock and started to remember how to move on slate. The first half of the pitch is fairly straightforward but from a tricky step left the difficulty steps up and doesn't really relent until the belay, a cracking slabby pitch.

The next pitch also weighs in at 6c. It starts off on a pleasant arete before hitting an awkward groove with a very thin crux which spat me off first go. Still not sure how I did it.  There's barely an incut hold on the whole pitch which is unusual for the medium of slate and disconcerting given its paucity of friction.

The next pitch is is the easiest on the route at a mere 6a+ though with a strenuous start. A few huffs and puffs and it soon eases into a fun rib type feature.

The scale of the route started to become apparent as we had now ascended above the Watford Gap (the main path into the quarries) and we still had 2 pitches to go. I also started to feel confident we would make it to the top. Jurgen had the next pitch, another 6c. It was a really innocuous looking groove but proved to be anything but. Another sterling effort by Jurgen and I also climbed it clean via a completely different method incorporating some weird layaway off nothing to nothing.
The final 6b pitch fell to me (the description warns of a sting in the tail). A different style of climbing again with a layback cracked groove which was short but sweet(pumpy) before the final gratuitous headwall(you could walk off to the left). I did try the wall direct numerous times but with tired arms, a block to hit and out of sight of belayer I forced an easier way up left as direct was desperate. Having reached the belay and looked at the final slopey mantle I would of had to contend with I feel the left variant was a prudent call.
Jurgen followed the same line to the top and the 3rd longest sport route in the UK was in the bag. Well done us. Ascent took about 4 hours so was time to keep cranking but not the will to crank. A leisurely walk down taking in the sights of Lost World, Mordor and nutty high liners before we treated ourself to an ice cream in Llanberis.

|Spot the high liners

Sunny Caingorms

Sunny Caingorms

Another weekend and this time it was a CMC trip to Newtonmore, though I'd only realised it was Newtonmore late on so had to revise my intentions to those more towards the East.
The forecast looked perfect, it had been cold all week the only downside was lack of recent thaw so some dodgy layers still existed in the snowpack, mainly affecting Eastern aspects. Avalanche forecast was considerable. Only a handful of plucky CMCers were venturing North. I was to team up with the most excellent Chris Coapes.
Neither of us had any strong plans but the forecast encouraged Western aspects which pointed us towards Lurchers crag or Mess of Pottage (Fellow CMC members Chris and Dave naturally headed to the East facing Hells Lum.)
A 6am alarm call soon saw us heading into the honey pot of Coire an t'Sneachda. The morning was chilly and clear with the snow level just below the car park. We somehow took a brief detour from the trench into Sneachda only noticing by looking up and seeing the throngs above us. We soon regained the path only slightly delayed by our lapse in concentration.
The North facing Aladins buttress was strangely quiet. Mess of Pottage didn't seem too busy and as I hadn't climbed there it was a call I was happy with. Hidden Chimney at II/III was the obvious warm up but practically everyone on the buttress was heading up it. There were teams just starting up Hidden Chimney Direct and The Haston Line. Other options around were a bit too hard for a warm so we settled into the queue for The Haston Line. First pitch contained the crux so I pointed Chris at it.
The route has a memorable little  squeeze past a miniature gendarme before you reach the crux.

Team ahead on The Haston Line

The crux consists of a steep little corner unfortunately rather devoid of useful snow, ice or turf. It did sport some useful looking tat for protection. Once established in the corner I really struggled to find something useful to bash my picks into. I had a rather wobbly sideways torque for my right tool and my left hand shamefully aiding on the tat though this was not much use. My first attempt to gain height resulted in a slither back down as the torque slipped.
Second attempt I yarded on the torque more and managed to get a crampon point in a ice smear gaining enough height to find something useful for my left tool. Plenty of huffing and puffing and scrabbling and use of right knee eventually got me rocking over onto the ledge.  By some distance the hardest moves I've done on a winter route. A few more steps and the dreaded hot aches returned, necessitating a 5 minute breather for me to recover my senses. During which I further ruminated on my motivations for winter climbing, I have been for a while getting less attracted to the harder (for me) lines and just wanting to have easy light mountaineering days.  Once recovered I continued up the easy ground to Chris and the belay. A splendid lead by Chris.
I finished up easy ground to the plateau. We still had plenty of time until the rugby for another route. We headed and back down and found the excellent looking Hidden Chimney direct free.

Randoms on Hidden Chimney direct

Chris graciously offered me the lead, I was slightly tempted but sent him on up. A steady lead followed and I was soon dismantling the belay for once sure I was on belay and headed up. The pitch was continuously interesting. Much more sustained than the Haston Line with reasonable protection. Was a tricky crux escaping right from a little niche. Was much relieved when managed to sink both axes behind a flake and establish my crampons onto the slab. Presumably the pitch would of been easier in more turfier days or with greater ice build up.
The quality of the pitch was such to almost change my mind about the harder winter climbing. I took the lead on what I think was hidden chimney but wasn't very chimney like but did have a couple of steps with some interest.
 Lovely views were to be had on the plateau

We had now had enough and rushed down to watch the rugby. On the way my sig bottle parted company from rucksack and shot down the hill, it missed hitting Chris or anyone else but was not to be seen again. A lovely day but a day in the Northern Corries doesn't quite feel a proper mountain day out.
For Sunday the vague plan was heading to Hells Lum to do the route Dave and Chris did. The alarm went off at 6, I heard no one else stirring and failed to find the motivation to stir myself. Chris went through a very similar thought process.
We once again headed into the Northern Corries, with the later start and not wanting to get back too late we climbed again in Sneachda. With no teams in the excellent Red Gully it proved an easy choice. A fun route in good condition but at times you had to search for the decent snow ice as some had been battered away by the hordes.

After the route we had a little wander over for a peer into the Loch Avon basin before heading down and hitting the long road home.

Chris descending the goat track

Oxymoronic Scottish Weekend

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.