Motivation at a high on moorland grit.

After an unbelievable winter, climbing routes I couldn't have imagined back in November. Everything just seemed to fall into place allowing me to spend nearly six weeks exploring the Scottish Highlands. Winter is well and truly over now, and my attention has turned to spending as much time on rock as I can fit in.

One man and his pads

My motivation is soaring after a confidence boosting winter realising what I can achieve in climbing. It all started with writing a list of goals, routes that I aspire to climb this year and this blog. The increase in my motivation has meant I am trying to structure specific training for climbing, something I have attempted in the past but never followed through with over a period of time. I have nailing the fingerboard over the past few weeks and putting the time in is already showing in my climbing.

Healaugh Crag, Swaledale

I've managed to fit in several bouldering sessions around work over the past week, rekindling the love of subtle movement required with gritstone bouldering where even slight changes in body position can be the difference between success and failure on a problem.

Matt on Extremities, Slipstones

I headed out in the sunshine to Healaugh Crag in Swaledale and back over to Slipstones. Similar crags with square shaped buttresses running along the edge of the moor. Two quality evenings in the sunshine, aided by a cool breeze which provided good friction once the sun began to set.

Matt on Agra Direct, Slipstones

Agra Buttress, Slipstones

Then next couple days were a complete contrast, whilst visiting Kyle in Burnley, we took a punt with the weather and headed to the Bridestones, a top the moors. The heavy grey clouds threatened above, the winds grew, blowing bouldering mats away and making delicate problems hard going. Spots of rain were clear on our chalked up hands as we watched the rain approaching. It blew over and we were in the clear, as the winds kept the rock dry and we ticked classic problems.

Chink in the Armour, Bridestones

The rock is quite fragile and sandy in places as we battled to keep contact with the rock on slopey aretes, comforted by the flat grassy landings and pads below. The problems were quality, though care was needed to prevent any further erosion or damage to the gritstone.

My training appeared to already be paying off, climbing a number of problems in quick succession that would have normally taken a whole session to complete one. If only there was a way to train my skin to be tougher, as three split tips are repairing ready for a five day trip to Wales next week.

A relection on a Winter Cuillin Ridge Traverse

Now a few days have passed since completing the ridge, writing my blog and working for a few days. I’m sure I’m still recovering mentally and physically, although I managed to fit in a fingerboard session this morning. I have had the chance for it to all sink in, realise what I have achieved and reflect on the whole experience.

I had never even thought about the Cuillins in winter, even spending around 30 days in the mountains this winter, Skye had never even crossed my mind. Why not? The early season was spent in the Northern Corries and later on the fine ice of Ben Nevis. I was so unsure about a ridge traverse making the drive from Torridon to Skye, nervous but exciting chat about even the possibility of a traverse, could it be done? After a little research and reading Mike Lates of Skye Guides top tips, I thought it was definitely too much and unachievable for us. There was no reason why though, we’d spent a lot of time in the mountains, were feeling fit and had climbed harder routes this winter; it must have been an underpinning intimidation of the challenge. The many variables that had to fall into place were huge compared to a regular Scottish winter day. The weather, the snow, our speed, route finding and bivi spots, all had to come together to even give us a chance at an attempt

It was my first trip to Skye, first time on the Cuillins, the unfamiliarity of these complex mountains. The variables all came together for our traverse, the stable weather and good snow being the main aspects. The snow was patchy, with areas of soft windslab, dispersed between good nee, which definitely settled nerves. Once on the ridge we moved quickly, but having nothing to compare this too kept a doubt in the back of my mind. Throughout the second day, I definitely had a feeling that we were going to do it, going to complete a winter traverse. This was after completing the TD gap, the final difficulty on the ridge. The final ridge and climb to the summit of Gars-bheinn was a mixture of elation and relief. This route and ridge had been the greatest challenge mentally and physically that I have faced in the mountains. It is understandable why such settled conditions are required, the weather is the last thing to be worrying about when negotiating the complex terrain, problem solving of abseils and route finding, piece by piece fitting the sections of ridge together like a thousand piece jigsaw, the challenge seems huge to begin with. The constant concentration required mentally drained me, and walking towards Glen Brittle I was like a robot. On the ridge there could be no slips, no trips and 100% concentrating on every step, looking out for each other, roped and moving together, no margin for error. 

I have learnt a lot about myself, to be more positive in light of big routes and plans, breaking these challenges down into sections and pieces without focusing on the overall picture. I cannot wait to head back to Skye this summer for another ridge traverse and to climb on the huge buttresses of pristine gabbro and basalt. 

I believe Geoff Cohen sums it up as he describes his first view of the ridge in Cold Climbs as ‘breath-taking, impossible to describe save by likening it to the perfection of dreams.’ To anybody considering a trip to Skye, plan it, you won’t regret it.  

Skye high in the Cuillins

Having spent the last couple days exploring the fine mountains around Torridon, we were due to head back down to Fort William for two days climbing on Ben Nevis. To take advantage of the continuing weather,the plan changing once more, and our destination was now the Isle of Skye.Neither Piers nor I had ever been to Skye before, and I know I was feeling quite apprehensive about it. I had longed to go to Skye, and was hoping to go throughout this summer season to explore the famous Cuillins, never mind makingmy first trip to the isle in winter conditions; however these conditions were to good to miss. I was adamant that I was not going to make a ridge attempt,and was going to take the more cautious approach of day walks on sections of the ridge. After a little research into the ridge traverse, regarded as the finest mountaineering expedition in the UK, it sounded far too much for us with numerous abseils, hard route finding, 3000m of ascent and descent over the 12km ridge. I ruled it out, but planned several day excursions to take in sections of the ridge.

Our first was to be Pinnacle Ridge, a grade 3 ridge on Northside of Sgurr nan Gillean visible from the van, looked hard enough anyway. Weset of with reasonably early start unsure how long it was going to take, no guidebook, just the ridge to follow to the summit. Once we reached the first patches of snow, things were clicking in my brain; the snow was the best I hadseen all winter, bullet hard neve. It was time to get crampons on, but for me it was decision time, I’d spent the last 10 minutes crossing patches of perfect neve, weighing things up in my head, could we actually go for a ridge traverse.Could I afford to miss out on this opportunity; when was I next going to be onSkye in winter, in these conditions? I knew it was going to involve an overnight but we had no bivi kit. Several quick phone calls swiftly followed, getting information on the ridge, and finding an outdoor shop open on Easter Monday. We needed survival bags, abseil tat and factor 50 for my already sunburnt face. Shop open, decision made; we were going for a winter Cuillin ridge traverse the following morning.

I had a restless night’s sleep, unsure of the challenges Iwas about to face over the next few days. The bags were frantically packed at 5am just after a big pan of porridge to fuel us, I was pretty sure I’d packed everything, or I hope I had. The bags didn’t feel too heavy; the approach was fast, crampons on and straight onto the East Ridge of Sgurr nan Gillean, revealed what lay ahead of us. For the first time, I could see the Cuillin ridge in its entirety, as the snow covered ridge snaked its way along joiningthe summits and huge buttresses of rock creating this alpine environment. I hadto stand and just absorb what I was looking at for a couple of minutes. I was totally in awe of what was about to come, I was still unsure as to what to expect.

 

We were making good progress, several peaks down, the stable weather of sunshine and a light breeze keeping the temperatures bearable whilst working hard on the ups. The route was quite well trodden which worked in our favour, as I was quite worried about route finding amongst the complex terrain. Not any more though, as we swiftly continued. The day was going quick, in thefirst few hours, we had completed four abseils, moving North to South along the ridge, to overcome difficulties early in each day.

The sun didn’t bear up and with the snow becoming softer, it was becoming very sugary and despite it still being early in the day, we started looking for a bivi spot. We had already passed a couple and a several suitable spots. We had been on the go for 10 hours now, and the snow was becoming quite unstable and soft, we were slowing reached a small col, big enough to cut out little trench big enough to sleep in and shelter. Everything just took time, melting water to drink, for bottles, to cook with. It was the clearest sky I had ever seen, looking across the sea to the sun setting behind the Outer Hebrides. All my layers on, hat, mittens and into my sleeping bag, not looking forward to my night in the orange bag. The night passed quickly butI do remember waking up and seeing a ridiculous number of stars, the sky almostlooking whiter than it was black. The alarm beeping at 5.30am caused a stir and a lot of motivation was required to move and get sorted in our small area without anything sliding off down the slopes.

 

A steep snow slope got the blood flowing to the legs, and our first difficulty of the day approached after a long slog up, the top of the Inaccessible Pinnacle came into view. It was a cold climb up the East Ridge,which had very little snow left on it other than the ledges and summit,followed by a swift abseil and getting the gloves back on. The rock was cold due to the lack of sun, with grey clouds in an overcast sky. I was getting paranoid now, and kept thinking I could feel droplets of rain, it may have been nerves as an imposing climb and committing section of ridge lay ahead. The closer we got to the next climb, the easier angled and achievable it became, with ramps of snow weaving up the climb with steps between the ledge systems of rock.

Abseiling of the Inaccessable Pinnacle

 I upped the ante along the next section, unsure of the weather and not wanting to get caught out now we were committed. The section passed smoothly, and descending into the TD gap proved to be the last of the difficulties. The ridge continued with pleasant scrambling and snow slopes tofinish on the summit of Gars-bheinn at 3pm. We had spent 16 1/2 hours on theridge.

This definitely was the finale to an amazing winter. I don’t think it has really sunk in what we have achieved. I found it amazing how such a series of peaks and ridges appears almost from the sea, and throws up so many challenges along its length. To climb this ridge in winter really has been anopportunity that I couldn’t afford to have missed and I feel privileged to have had the chance to complete early in my mountaineering career. I have come across this quote, which happens to come from Skye mountain rescue sums them up: ‘Do not come to the Cuillin Ridge without cutting your teeth elsewhere in Scotland. Do not rush the Cuillin. Although eroding they will still be there tomorrow. Fear them, maybe doubly respect them and you will have many great mountain days within their aura.’

Changing winter plans in the Scottish Highlands

After a couple of weeks off from my last trip up to Scotland, I was keen to squeeze in one more and take advantage of the extended season and this settled weather, probably my last for the season. A plan was hatched, 7 days, Torridon, Ben Nevis then Glen Coe. I should have learnt by now that my plans never quite fall into place.

The original plan was to head straight to Torridon through Friday, but on hearing the classic low level ice route Raven Crag Gully was ‘in nick’, plans changed. To the Lakes Thursday night, quick route in the morning then to Torridon. I changed my mind again; the ice didn’t look too thick in places. So straight to Glen Coe Thursday night for another Cold Climbs classic, No 6 Gully on Aonach Dubh and an early start to beat the queues.

Piers leading the main pitch of No 6 Gully

 

The popularity of this route is justified by the fact it doesn’t form very often due to its low altitude and short walk in. Being up at 5am with an hour walk in didn’t beat the first team who had just started climbing as we arrived at the base of the route. The route was quite stepped and we made quick progress, alternating leads, up several short steep bulges each followed by a snow slope. The ice was good with solid hooks up all the ice; I hardly had to swing my axes. Piers had the main pitch, 30m up a groove of water ice towards the left side of the gully. A top lead as he has only started winter climbing this season. We arrived at the top of the gully just after 10am, there is so much more time in the day when you have the motivation to get up early, hard I know. After a leisurely descent to the van, we had a steady drive up North, onwards to Torridon.

On the Horns of Beinn Alligin

Horns of Beinn Alligin

 

I have been to Torridon once before on a university trip and remember how wild it is up there, the peaks rising straight from the flat glens and nearby sea providing an almost unrivalled landscape. We had three days planned to explore and climb some of the stunning ridges and mountains in the area. First up was Beinn Alligin, a mountain I had never heard of before, in the shadow of its larger, grander neighbours. The ridge along Beinn Alligin followed its iconic horns, three rising summits close together leading onto the summit Munro. Good snow and blue skies made the going pretty quick and it was nice not to have the faff of ropes. I think the mountain is definitely underrated and I’m surprised I hadn’t heard of it before. The views from the top were cracking, looking back along the stunning ridge, with Liathach, our next objective in the background.

 

Piers heading down to the Pinnacles of Liathach

 

 Me on Liathach

 

We were greeted to the same stunning weather the following morning as we set off up the steep South slopes at the Eastern end of the Liathach ridge. Looking upwards from the glen, you could mistake winter to be over when looking from the south, but arriving on the ridge, there was no doubt Liathach definitely still had its winter coat on and looked positively alpine. The ridge was knife-edge in places and provided great exposure and continued interest. The ridge is pretty committing with few escape points, however this never even crossed my mind as I was taking in the situation, enjoying the sunshine coupled with the Scottish winter. Despite planning to spend a third day in Torridon, we changed our plans and journeyed to the Isle of Skye for one big adventure.

Finishing the pinnacle section of Liathach

Point Five Gully, staying focused in the fast lane

After such a cracking weekend on the Ben last weekend, and my motivation for winter climbing at an all time high, I've been buzzing all week, another trip up north was swiftly planned to make the most of the conditions in the mountains.

Following tracks low in Observatory Gully

Similarly to last week, Piers and I had planned to camp up at the CIC hut, to cut out the slog from the North Face car park. Arriving late on Thursday night, driving straight after work, we were greeted by rain in Fort William, and opted to sleep in the car and get an early start the following morning. Walking up to the hut through drizzle, sleet and finally snow, meant we were pretty damp and a North Easterly wind didn't help as we got the tent up and had a quick brew. The snow level was down to just below the hut but the winds meant a lot of new snow collected across the mountain. We battled through powder up the approach gully, planning to get onto Tower Ridge. Time was going to be tight anyway, but a lot of powder along the early sections of the ridge slowed progress. Not being able to see what you're actually standing on always makes things pretty interesting, as does part of the corniced edge collapsing as you've just passed along. Things just didn't feel right and the fact it had just started snowing didn't help matters. So we bailed back to the tent and sat out the snow, caught up on some sleep and rested.

A snowy night at the CIC

I awoke in the night to the sound of more tent pegs being hammered in, we had neighbours. Opening the door in the morning to no wind, blue skies and the North face of Ben Nevis in top condition is quite something. Our little patch of snow covered grass had become like a festival field as another six tents had squeezed on the small area. Teams were already walking up from the hut approaching their objectives, we had only one, Point Five Gully.

Approaching Point Five Gully in great condition

We could see the route from the tent, it looked in brilliant condition. On the approach, we turned the bottom of the Douglas Boulder to spot another team already heading towards the base of the route. To be fair, they made life a lot easier breaking trail through the powder up to the route. We crossed patches of graupel, a type of snow that almost looks like balls of polystyrene. These areas of snow are usually pretty unstable and are an indicator of poor snow conditions. We discussed our options, the route being quite steep shouldn't have collected much snow and it had a hold on me, I had wanted to climb it for so long, so we continued. The team ahead were taking their time and ended setting off at the same time as myself, with two other parties behind getting impatient.

Despite the route being busy, ropes and people everywhere, the climbing was brilliant. I'm not a fan of people watching me climb, other than my belayer of course, I normally get distracted and worry about what people think of me. This time I was totally focused on the task at hand, enjoying this awesome route. Once I had swung that first axe, I was oblivious to all of the other people watching me up that first pitch. The ice was top notch, sinker placements and readily took screws as I headed to the first belay.

The first two pitches went really quickly, smooth climbing with great placements, the route was becoming quite stepped. Two other teams were climbing close to us becoming pretty bunched, which wasn't good news as the ice was becoming more brittle, big chunks breaking off unexpectedly. One second came up with a bloody nose, I think he'd caught himself with his adze, and the leader of the third team had pushed through and had been hit badly with a large chunk out his nose, blood down his face, he looked a bit of a mess. He approached the belay all guns blazing, looking for someone to blame, to which I replied, "blame us all." Climbing one of the most popular routes on the mountain on a Saturday, I guess it was to be expected. Even a 5:30am start from the hut couldn't escape the queues.

I wanted out, and headed off up the Rogue pitch not to be put down by all this negativity. I was here to enjoy the climbing on a quality route. The pitch was great, bulging at the top, I could definitely feel the steepness but solid placements and good bridging saw me pull onto the snow slope above.

I headed up the snow slope for maybe 25m, clipping one suspect peg in the side wall along the way, eyes on a good ice bulge ahead for a solid belay. 5 metres short, the rope went tight, I couldn't move, out of rope. Absolutely gutted, and following a bit of bad language about never buying 50m ropes ever again, a bit of slack,   Piers had started climbing. I quickly sorted two screws before he reached the steepening wall and got him on belay.

Piers pulling onto the easier upper slopes

We swung leads and moved together through these top sections as the slopes steepened again towards the imposing cornice. The seemed to get bigger to closer I got, and I picked my spot. There was two foot of fresh powder deposited atop of the existing cornice, as I struggled to cut a hole through it before climbing through and crawling across the plateau to take in the rope for Piers.

Back down and in the tent for 3pm just as the snow began, it didn't stop. The wind picked up as the front passed through, it continued to snow as we watched it build up the side of the tent. Awaking the Sunday morning to find a foot of new snow surrounding the tent, meaning laden slopes and huge cornices higher up the mountain. The avalanche forecast was considerable anyway so we called it quits and headed down, pleased with an ascent of such a classic route.

Chilly face on the summit plateau

Every climber must have objectives and aspirations for their climbing to keep them motivated. Whether it be a route for that day, or a list of climbs to do before you die. Sometimes the blinkers come on, and people become impatient, ignore the weather and take unnecessary risks to climb their desired route. Every now and then this gun hoe attitude is required to pull out the stops to climb the route. I am guilty of it myself, climbing routes that are maybe out of my depth when I have been in a troubled mindset. I think of myself as cautious climber especially in the mountains, and have never rushed to push myself through the winter grades, allowing myself to gain plenty of experience first. And I hope everyone that was in the mountains this weekend are safe.

Chasing goals in the mountains, great ice on Ben Nevis

Having a climbing trip planned in advance in the UK never quite goes to plan and with the weather looking rubbish for the weekend,  Jack and my trip to Tremadog looked a mess.
However, one phone call from Ben, saying John and himself were heading to Scotland, the weekend had some very different aims. One goal in our heads; Point Five Gully.

We had a late one, arriving at the North Face car park just after midnight. We donned our heavy rucksacks and headed off towards the CIC hut, pitching our tent close to the hut for shelter. After a wild few hours sleep with the tent sounding like it was about to take off, the 5am alarm came far too early. It was blowing a hooley outside with snow in the air as we headed up Observatory gully towards Point Five. The wide top snow slopes of Point Five funnel spindrift straight down the gully, we watched and timed how long between each dump, 3-5mins. The route would have been a nightmare, but we wanted it so bad; "an outstanding climb, probably the most famous ice gully in the world." 

Jack on the first pitch of Italian Right-hand with the main pitch on the right in the background.

By now our early start was no longer an advantage as we headed round to Coire an Ciste, and up towards Italian Right-hand. Recommended by Ben, I had never heard of this route,
or even noticed it in the guide before. I don't know how I'd managed to miss seeing it before as the main ice pitch looked immense. The route definitely gave us a flavour for the ice, after a predominately mixed season for myself and only Jack's second winter route. The route was quite stepped out, but that did not withdraw from the quality of the ice, with top placements and good screws being the order of the day.

Italian Right-hand takes the ice smear just left of centre.

We descended Broad Gully back into the top end of the Coire, we traversed round to Central Gully Right-hand, which gave a quality gully line, good ice and neve. We descended Number 4 gully en route towards the tent.

Jack approaching the belay at end of pitch 2 of Central Gully Right-hand

The ice route of Vanishing Gully caught our eye on the way down, we'd covered a lot of ground and were pretty tired, but only being two pitches, we couldn't resist. Jack lead
a sterling pitch, with steep bulges followed by a narrow strip of ice heading to the ice cave belay. Chatting to some fella at bottom, they commented, "so you've got the meaty top pitch then?" "I guess I have" I replied. I hadn't thought about that yet, I'd never climbed this grade before, it looked ok from the bottom I thought. I joined Jack at belay and prepared for steep wall above, I felt pretty shaky and nervous to begin with and placed a couple of screws. I made good progress, it was definitely steeper than it looked from below. After a brief respite after several metres, another screw in, I was getting pumped as I started to place another, it just wouldn't bite! I had to move on, fumbled the screw back onto my harness, the climbing wasn't too bad, good placements and a slightly easing angle. I tried again to place a screw, and the same thing; pumping out, a shake of the arms, few deep breaths,  I had to continue. Another few metres lead me to a snow slope and the end of the difficulties, with another 20 metres to finish the pitch. What a quality route, my first venture into grade V ice, to which I had always felt a bit intimidated by, perhaps it was because of the reputations of the classic routes at this grade combined with my fear of failure on them. This was to be a new chapter in my climbing.

Vanishing Gully - Ben and John on the route after we descended the gully to the left.

Jack nearing the steepening ice on Pitch 1

 3 routes in the day, we'd nailed it, but pretty shattered, cooked some food and a nap in the tent, woken by John saying there was room in the CIC for us! Sweet. 

Following a quality nights sleep, another early start had us thinking we were going to be the first team on Point Five. Still strong winds and blue skies, we turned the corner into the approach gully to see a team on the final slope to the base of gully, the goal was smashed. They moved off really slowly, and there was no way I was queuing for over an hour with so many quality routes in condition. We continued up Tower Gully towards Indicator Wall. An intimidating line following ice a wall of rock rather than a gully line. The route was in top condition, and not as stepped out a routes from the day before. Again Jack lead a top 40m pitch, following a steep groove and thinner ice to a screw belay, bomber.

Jack throwing some shapes on Pitch 1 of Indicator Wall

 I continued in a brilliant position, stepping out from recessed belay looking up at the steep wall of ice that lay ahead. The pitch was beauty, sustained but never desperate, I was in a amazing position on a quality route. The route was top class, leading me to the highest belay in the UK around the trig point of Ben Nevis.

Looking across to two climbers on the Eastern Traverse, Tower Ridge. Another sterling day in Scotland.

Having specific goals can sometimes distract from appreciating the other quality climbs, crags and mountains that are right in front of you. We had climbed 4 top class routes over the weekend, none of which were planned. I had thought my winter season over, I was so wrong after this top weekend and with another potential trip planned for next weekend, could that be the finale.

Some not so scary trad limestone at Pot Scar

For 2013 one of my goals is to climb at five limestone crags that I haven't visited before. Having ticked routes at the more popular crags of Malham, Kilnsey, Giggleswick and a few others, this goal was to lead me to explore new parts of Yorkshire limestone. So after a flick through the guidebook, I settled on Pot Scar, which had a wide range of grades and a number of starred routes. I had however missed the paragraph which mentioned "short ground falls can have serious consequences" and "bad accidents in the past" with the following sentence being; "you have been warned!" Sounds good to me!

Hopefully all the loose stuff has fallen off with that amount of scree at the bottom

I haven't always been a fan of limestone trad climbing, and I'm only just coming around to the idea. I've found it to be insecure, with poor protection, and suspect rock, with the combination of all 3 providing a pretty terrifying experience. So visiting a new limestone crag with only traditional routes, i was feeling a bit nervous on the way over. However on arrival, the main area of Pot Scar looked a solid, clean wall of limestone. 

In the past I've struggled to read limestone, and end up feeling my way up the wall searching for holds and then better ones. So as I started up the first route, Piers said to me; "this is the most scarred I've ever seen you whilst climbing." I didn't find the route bad at all, it flowed really well, there was good gear, solid rock. Pot Scar was the exact opposite of my stereotype of a trad limestone crag. 

A brilliant days climbing followed this rather shaky start. Every route continued to surprise me, good gear and great climbing in the winter sun. We climbed several of the clear grooves and walls, which gave quality obvious lines. I finished up the day climbing Sunspot, which is the only 3 starred route in the guide, although I believe some of the others are of similar quality for their grade. Sunspot followed a thin groove that was on a steeper wall than the rest of the crag. Using thin flakes barely big enough to fit your fingers into, that were really square making protection a nightmare, I worked my way slowly up the groove. After a couple of shaky moments where wires and imps just pulled through when trying to set them, a lot of relaxation breathing was required at these points. I reached the overlap two thirds up the route, and a solid thread and wire, I now felt at ease. The overlap was turned, by a big rock over to reach another thin flake leading to larger holds above. It was the hardest traditional route I'd climbed on limestone, and the whole experience was exhilarating and definitely showed I've still got a good head for bold moves heading into this season.

I've learnt to take what you read in the guidebook with a huge pinch of salt as there are such quality crags and routes within such a small area. After visiting Pot Scar, I am now looking forward to visiting the next 4 new limestone crags to complete my goal, and maybe more, if we get the weather. After just climbing at one new crag, I think this goal is definitely going to take me on a journey to explore and discover some more hidden, less traveled gems of Yorkshire limestone, and will probably mean more to me than climbing harder routes.