Some Ice

Lac Montriond Icefalls

So skiing is kinda fun and everything, but sometimes you just have to haul yourself up walls of ice with spikes to get your jollies. With the chaos of half term in a ski resort looming me and my climbing buddy George are pretty keen to avoid queuing for ages to get on chairlifts, or skiing down pistes with a million other twats all trying to be on the same square foot of snow as you. It's been pretty cold lately so we decide to hike up to the icefalls that form above Lac Montriond to see if any are fat enough to climb.....

Ice climbing superstars/gormless tits

The main icefall looks absolutely nails, like Scottish VI, but there's an easier angled bit to the left that we aim for. I grab the rack and get going. It's almost immediately steeper than it looks from below - who knew??? But the ice is in pretty good nick, and I make fast progress up to a mini cave fringed with icicles. The next bit is plumb vertical, and I start to get a bit nervous. Spend ages fiddling around trying to thread a sling around the thickest icicles. Clip the bastard. Tenuous traverse to the left to the hard bit. Fuck me it's steep.....

Double-tapping screws below the crux

I think about building a belay and making George lead it, but that would kinda be a dick move, so instead I place two screws in some pretty good ice and keep going. Steep moves, I hack away at the ice trying to find good placements. Shuffle my feet higher. Just as I'm starting to get slightly (ok, massively) pumped and scared I sink my right tool into some mega snow-ice and I'm kicking my way to an easier angle and a welcome rest. Now the only problem is I've got just two screws remaining and there's still about 20m left of pretty steep ice.

Bugger.

Run out fun out near the top

I climb 70-80 degree ice as far as I can stand then plug in a screw. It's a good placement but sadly it's also a fucking stubby and doesn't inspire much confidence. But I want to save my remaining long screw for the top bit, which looks pretty bastard steep from where I am, teetering miserably on my frontpoints and wishing I had more bloody screws. Anyway, off I go, climbing to just below the last vertical bit, where I find out that one of the teeth of my last screw is fucking broken. It takes ages to drill the cunt in, by which point I'm basically knackered and wondering if I should just stop delaying the innevitable and throw myself off.....

Looking back down the pitch

There's some exposed rock to the left, so I shuffle over and manage to fiddle in a couple of uninspiring nuts. Maybe slow us down enough for the last screw not to blow, fuck knows. Now there's nothing else to do but begin a series of tenuous little foot shuffles back right, tools in brittle, dinner-plating ice above me. I swing my right tool, ice breaks, a big chunk smashes into my face, blood splattering, well isn't this just so much fun.....A final heart-in-mouth step up, the last steep move, I sink my tools into better snow ice, where a final wallow up powder leads me to a bolt belay on the wall above. Thank fuck for that. I tie in and my arms are so shagged I can barely pull the near-60m of rope in to bring George up.    

Fuckin ice weapons mate

Well bugger me if that wasn't a shitload of effort for one single bloody pitch of ice. I forgot just how crap I am at it. We ignore the second mixed pitch up a ramp of unconsolidated snow and instead abseil back down again. Good to get some ice mileage after nearly a year away from it. I keep looking over at the far steeper main fall to the right - hopefully I'll get a chance to come back a bit fitter and with sharp as fuck new picks and smash the bastard. Beats queuing for ski lifts anyway..... 

2018

2018 has been a pretty challenging year for climbing, with a combination of injury, lack of fitness, lack of mojo, and, y'know, just not being very good at climbing. Still, I managed the best winter season of my life, and scraped enough half decent trad routes together to feel like it wasn't a total write-off. Oh yeah, and I cycled like a bastard when a buggered finger forced an extended break from gibbering around on bits of rock. Anyway, rather than ramble on about the over-arcing narrative of the year, here's a massive wanky list of my best (and worst) experiences from the last 12 months.....

Savage Slit - Coire an Lochain

Mega fun, mega classic Northern Corries mixed route. I swung leads with a guy from UKC called Gwyd. He did a great job leading the thin techy crack at the bottom of the corner, leaving me to grovel my way up the inside of the chimney above. Never desperate but sustained the whole way up, the guidebook says you can climb the outside of the chimney - well fuck that.

Crypt Route - Bidean nam Biam

With alpine super wad Dave K. Winter climbing meets caving. A hilarious journey into the heart of the mountain, leading to an utterly perverse squeeze through a letterbox to get back out again. Greg Boswell couldn't climb this pig stylishly.

Stirling Bomber - Coire an t'Sneachda

Dragged up this monstrosity by that man again Dave K. Still undecided if this counts as one of the good or bad experiences......a desperate fight up the chimney from hell in a brutal Cairngorm blizzard; the horror, the horror.....

North Gully - Lurcher's Crag

Had no real expectations of this route, which ended up being 250 odd meters of nearly continuous ice climbing; fucking ace! Climbed this with Graham, the rest of the Northern Corries were getting shagged by windslab, so it was a punt that paid off big time.

George - Liathach

I was nowhere near good enough to do Poacher's Fall, but this route was still pretty damn fantastic. Climbed with International Man of Mystery Dave Bird, 2 long ice pitches then a quick jolly up to the summit. Perfect bluebird weather didn't hurt either. We also did the classic ridge traverse, which was equally brilliant.

Cuillin Ridge Traverse - Skye

Where to start on this one? I could write pages.....My lifetime UK climbing ambition achieved, in stunning conditions, with the right partner at the right time. Cheers Jack. Bit of boring number crunching; we were 36 hours from car to car, about 20 of which was spent actually moving (fucking long shiver bivy), and it took us 15 hours between Sgurr nan Gillean and Gars-bheinn. We soloed everything barring a 15 meter pitch going up Sgurr Thearlaich and did 10 abseils along the way. One of those magical routes where you know from the very first step you're going to fucking smash it. Still, months later, I can hardly believe I've done it.

Crowberry Gully - Buachaille Etive Mor

A reminder that winter climbing can be fun in the moment, not just in retrospect. Despite climbing as a 3, me Pat and Jack shot up this in no time. Outrageous cave belay below the crux icefall.

Wall of the Early Morning Light - Beinn Bhan

See the previous blog post. I never thought I'd be good enough or lucky enough to pull off one of the big ice routes on Beinn Bhan. This really was an absolute beast. 18 pitches, shit belays, bugger all gear, and we climbed the last few pitches in the dark. Thanks to Graham and Pat for an unforgettable day in the hills. Back for Silver Tear next time, right boys?

The Pumpkin - Creag Megaidh

My last winter route of a phenomenal season. I tried leading the crux pitch as my first grade V ice lead, but got spooked by some cruddy ice and backed off......which turned out to be a very good thing, as one of my boots disintergrated seconding Katie up the sodding thing. Thanks Katie for leading all the hard stuff, while I hopped and cursed my way up like a total spanner. Great to finally get a route done on Meggy.

Haste Not - White Ghyll

So this is where it starts going tits up. I backed off leading the first pitch of this, then decided against seconding my boss John up it, as the route follows a massive, exposed traverse line, and you sadly can't get hauled up a traverse can you? Tragically indicative of how most of my trad climbing would go this year. 

Route One - Raven Crag Walthwaite

This, rather than actually getting injured, was the absolute low point of the year. It's a fairly non-descript severe that I'd led before, but lacking any sort of climbing mojo I had an absolute mare on it. I finally stalled out a few moves below the top, spooked as fuck by a slightly damp hold, and convinced that the gear I had in was all going to rip out if I fell off. I downclimbed it a nervous wreck and made John do it instead - no doubt by this point he was seriously reconsidering his hiring practices.  

Soloing Jolly - Brimham Rocks

This was mostly a highlight actually. Me and Jack spent a mega fun day soloing easy routes and exploring the crazy rock formations of Brimham Rocks. It only went slightly Pete Tong when I slapped a rope on and tried leading some slightly harder stuff. I backed off a couple of the classic VS, then skulked away to solo Mods again. We also buggered up the second day of the trip by getting shitfaced in Harrogate the night before and waking up far too hungover to move, let alone climb anything. Jack unfortunately managed to not projectile vomit in the middle of Waitrose, which would've been top banter.

Smeggy Little Boulder Problem - Indoor Wall at Tenby

If you're going to get injured while climbing, you want it to be on some massive, epic route, that way at least you've got a cool story to tell. Instead I pulled a tendon on some random problem at the indoor wall in Tenby on a bleak, windswept day when we couldn't climb outside. There's simply no way to make that sound badass. Although given my total lack of ability up to this point, it was actually kind of a relief to be forced into a break from climbing.

West Coast of Ireland Cycle Tour 

Superb trip from start to finish. Me and Dad began in Cork, then headed south to the coast, and along as far as Mizzen Head, Ireland's most southerly point. We then improvised a route along the stunning west coast, over a fair few mountain ranges, eventually reaching the most northerly point, Malin Head. Oh yeah, and it was 20-30 degrees every day as well. Highlights were going over the stunning Healy Pass, the massive limestone pavements of the Burren, and the barren beauty of Malin Head at the climax of the tour. Just under 800 miles in total. Absolutely mint.

Great Dun Fell

A mountain in the Pennines with a paved road that goes all the way to the summit. Easily as good as the Bealach na Ba in Applecross, but harder, with a constantly fluctuating gradient and some brutal 20% ramps near the top. Best cycling climb in England. Done as part of a 90 mile slog around the Pennines, starting and finishing in Appleby. Hilariously windy on the final hairpins.

Etape du Dales 

The other cycling highlight of the year. 110 miles of beautiful Yorkshire scenery, and a shitload of savage hills.

Tophet Wall - The Napes

The big comeback route, and easily one of the best mountain multipitches I've done. Fucking nails for the grade mind. I found the first pitch wiggy as hell, tiptoeing up and across the mega steep wall, slings draped over hollow spikes hardly inspiring confidence. Then Jack led the unprotected wall above the belay, hello factor 2 fall, leaving me to grovel up the final outrageously exposed flake to glory. Sensational.

Moonraker - Berry Head

Good climbing the whole way up, but what sticks in my mind is the approach......first the sketchy downclimb above an ankle snapping slab that you'd bounce off and into the drink, then the long solo traverse of the Great Cave to reach the first belay just above the sea. This was mostly on mega holds, but it's pretty damn steep, and you'd sink well fast with all the ropes and gear and everything. First and third pitches were the best, which Staples breezed up on lead, while I took the easier middle pitch and still found it hard. Why is it all the best trad routes are scary as fuck sea cliff traverses?

Anvil Chorus - Bosigran

One of the best routes I've done at Bosi. I ran the first couple of pitches together, then Staples led the big layback. Pretty hard work for VS, you want to keep moving quickly, and then there's a proper sting in the tail gaining the belay after the traverse. I challenge anyone to do that bit elegantly.

Rock Dancer - Carn Kenidjack

Man, I wish this was one of the highlights. An incredible 40m pitch of edges and hidden pockets up a just off-vertical wall of perfect golden rock. It's just a shame I tried leading it when it was clearly beyond my limited capabilities at the time. I got about a third of the way up, before getting scared and lowering off a couple of cams. Staples took over and made it look piss, the bastard. I'll be back for this one.

The Arrow - St Govan's Head

Clearly I learned nothing from Rock Dancer, because later on in the year I thought trying to lead another big sea cliff E1 was just what I needed. Predictably binned it off when it got steep near the bottom, and once again along came Staples to the rescue. Only this time he sacked it off as well, after banging on about how easy it was - it's the little victories that make life worthwhile. Anyway, another one on the revenge list when I'm (hopefully!) way fitter next year.

Sidewinder - Coire an Lochain

Ok, so this was by no means one of the best winter routes I've done, it was shagged with powder and made pretty hard work by a lack of build up in places.....but what else do you expect from early season winter? Still, it's better to finish on a successful note rather than sacking off hard trad routes. This was a great day out on the hill with Graham and Katie, plus it meant I actually got a winter route done before spending the rest of the season being shit at skiing in Morzine. Good effort from Katie leading what we think was the last pitch of Western Route - some pretty tough moves in the less than ideal conditions. Here's hoping for a great 2019!

Thanks to all my climbing and cycling partners over the year; Jamie, Gwyd, James, Dave K, Graham W, Graham L, Dave B, Katie, Liam, Staples, Clem, Jack B, Pat, John K, Jack H, Mick W, Bob, Dad, Nina, George. 

Wall of the Early Morning Light

What's all this Beast from the East shite about? We're dossing in a layby at the base of the Bealach na Ba and the weather is great. Bit windy but the sky is blue...ish, and there hasn't been a snowflake all day. Kind of weird to imagine the rest of the country grinding to a halt, idiots trapped in their cars for like 19 hours, shops all running out of bread and milk. Why does everyone panic buy bread and milk? If the Beast really is the harbinger of an icy apocalypse, why the fuck would you stock up on stuff that will go mouldy within the first week? 

Anyway, oblivious to all this chaos in the north west, we're doing the usual thing, stuffing our faces with pork pies and whisky as preparation for a big route on Beinn Bhan. I've always wanted to do a route in one of the enourmous corries that line its east flank. They're long, serious, rarely in condition. I'm gambling that the sustained cold weather will bring the massive icefalls into good nick. The classic direct route is Silver Tear, but we're all sadly too shit at ice climbing for that one, so instead the plan is Wall of the Early Morning Light, a slightly easier route that wanders all over the place seeking out the easiest way through a series of steep sandstone tiers. 

The corries of Beinn Bhan from the road

The team is myself, Pat and Graham. Me and Pat are carrying most of the gear in, so we will make Graham lead all the hard scary bits. Don't want a couple of southern ponces upsetting Scottish pride after all. The walk in is pretty steady, and by about 8am we are in the awesome amphitheater of Coire na Poite, trying to spy a feasible route through a series of steep dribbles of ice and snowy terraces. After the north face of the Ben it's easily the most impressive wall I've ever seen in Scotland. Makes Sneachda look like a bouldering wall. 

Entering the mental Coire na Poite

We gear up at the bottom and figure out a line to take through the initial icefall. The most direct line looks pretty steep and not brilliantly formed, so instead we head further right to better looking ice. Looking in the north highlands definitive guide afterwards we might've climbed the start of a route called Meanderthal, but it's pretty hard to get info on this face, so fuck knows. Anyway, I lead the first pitch, steady IV climbing with decent ice and screws, and belay on screws when I get to easier angled stuff above. And by easier angled I mean 50-55 degree bullet hard neve, which is something we will get increasingly familiar with as the route goes on.....

Approaching the right hand icefall start to the route

Graham is the only one of us with any sort of talent for this ice climbing business, so he leads the next 2 pitches to another terrace of snow, past a thin crux section near the top. Pat and I hack our way up after. The belay is on dodgy screws and because of the angle of the neve we're perched on there's no way to take a proper rest there. Instead we kick steps into the fucking stuff and try not to weight the anchors. Not easy finding space for 3. To save time me and Pat traverse simultaneously across the terrace towards where we think the route usually goes. But the scale of the face is such that we don't get anywhere near the next section of ice, so end up bringing Graham across on some utter toss belay so he can finish the traverse. I lead another pitch up and across some ice and belay off a single tied off peg just right of the steep bit. No obvious way through presents itself. I vaguely remember something about a chimney in the guidebook description (like 3 sentences for a 400m route) but I'm not sure where it's meant to be. But it's Graham's problem so who gives a fuck....   

Me leading the first of 18 pitches

He traverses left then spies the chimney and starts climbing upwards. We can hear him yelling that it's fucking nails, and I stare at the tied off peg and fight to supress hysterical laughter. What fun we're having. But he gets up the bastard like the ice weapon he is, and soon enough it's my turn to follow. The gear is wank and it's pretty hard and steep, easily V 5. Superb lead by Graham. Above there's what looks like a short ice step, that turns out to be almost as hard and cruddy as fuck. I gibber my way upwards towards what I hope is a ledge. This turns out, of course, to be yet more 55 degree neve. There's another step barring access to what I'm sure is the final snow terrace before we head left into a big fault line to the top. So I have a go at it but it's steep, off balance, and the ice is complete toss. No problem, I'll just belay and make Graham lead it instead. Serves him right for not carrying a rope in. 

Looking back down into the corrie - climbers crossing the frozen lake (last photo we took!)

Graham leads the final ice step, and it is indeed fucking hard. Pat and I wearily grovel up after him and we peer across the terrace with thousand yard stares, hoping there's an easy line to the top just round the corner. It's getting on in the day and I'm starting to wonder if we'll finish the route before it gets dark. And whatever else we encounter there's definitely a cornice to be overcome. Still, I reckon we'll be alright, can't be too bad now - so of course the traverse across the terrace alone takes another 3 pitches. Bastard. But at least we can see the fault line now and it doesn't look that hard. Graham and I lead a pitch each before the daylight fails and darkness steals across the highlands......fantastic.

Just to make matters worse I now desperately need a shit. It's so bad I get Pat to belay Graham up pitch god-knows-what, while I undo the waist belt of my harness, teeter on my front points, and unleash a foul torrent of cack down the mountain. Pat stoically pretends that he's.....fucking anywhere else but here, I suppose. If I overbalance mid-shit then I'll probably pull the 3 of us off the sodding hill altogether, hurling us all to a messy, shitty death at the bottom. Still, I feel much better for it, and that's the main thing. 

So it's proper headtorch climbing now, and I reckon we've at least 3 more pitches to go. From Graham's wank belay I traverse across unconsolidated snow towards a break in otherwise steep looking ground. A hard move with no footholds sees me on a slightly gentler slope of neve, and I manage to find an ok hex belay just above. Once again the 3 of us perch miserably on our front points, unwilling to test the only thing that's holding us to this sodding face. Graham leads a final unprotected pitch up steep snow ice to where I'm frantically hoping the final snow slope lies. Thankfully our estimation is correct, and from this last belay I trudge up steep neve towards the looming cornice above. 

Much to my surprise and relief, there's a big notch in the bastard, so it's completely piss. I crawl onto the summit plateau of Beinn Bhan on my hands and knees, dig in, and belay Pat and Graham up after me. It's bitterly cold in the wind but I'm so tired I find myself nodding off as I pull the rope in. It's about 10pm now. We quickly pack up the gear and begin a fairly straightforward plod back down to the cars. 18 pitches, probably 600m of climbing with the right hand start, rubbish belays, fuck all good runners, and a few unfortunate flecks of shite still clinging to my trousers.....what a fucking route!

2017

Winter 2016/17 is fucking awful. However, in between the rain and devastating thaws, Staples and I manage to bag a few routes in early March. Best of the lot are probably Curved Ridge of the Buachaille in bluebird conditions, and a traverse of An Teallach a few days later. The viz is pretty pish for An Teallach unfortunately, but still a fantastic, atmospheric day. We also sneak a couple of harder routes in Coire Sneachda and Stob Coire nan Lochain.       

Pat and I head up to the Ben afterwards in the vain hope of snatching something. We climb Ledge Route in the rain (past a guy pitching the whole bloody thing to teach his girlfriend how to winter lead, the poor bastard), then give up on winter and go rock climbing in the Lakes instead. Photo is me grovelling up the steep bit of Kransic Crack Direct. We also have a fun jolly up the easy mountain classic Gillercombe Buttress.

Langdale Enchainment with Pat and Megan - godawful polished solo up Lower Scout, the classic VDiff on Upper Scout, Slip Knot then Slab Route on White Ghyll, then finally the mega classic Golden Slipper on Pavey Ark. Superb early season trad day. 

First pitch of Pluto, Raven Crag. Steep corner crack, grovelling frog traverse, delicate techy rib; any pitch could be the crux. I find them all equally hard. Megan particularly enjoys the traverse pitch, literally screaming and weeping for joy the whole way.....;)

Photobombing at Avon Gorge, one of only two days climbing down south all year. I somehow manage to slap my way up an E1 called Limbo, pretty hard by my standards for April, just in time for an ear operation and subsequent loss of all fitness immediately afterwards.....

Pembroke Easter Jolly. It is fucking freezing so no one climbs particularly hard, but between us we tick a shitload of easy classics, drink a lot, and consume unhealthy ammounts of spam. Still in recovery from the ear op, I climb like a sack of mouldy turds. Great jolly with a proper climbing squad.

After getting some form back, and shockingly managing to onsight Cenotaph Corner, fuck knows how, I go back to Pembroke a couple more times. Highlight is definitely Heart of Darkness/New Morning, which is everything a sea cliff classic should be - committing, terrifying, strenuous, greasy, traversey, steep, terrifying, seagully and terrifying.        

Staples leading his first E1, Manzoku, another super sustained Pembroke classic. Top effort from the boyo.

After that I move up to the Lakes for a job. It rains a lot. I spend most of my spare time cycling up hellishly steep mountain passes rather than climbing. However in July Staples comes up for what is to be Jock Rock Jolly II.....half of which we spend in the Lakes doing some trad classics. Best day is up on Gimmer, doing North West Arete, Whit's End Direct and Kipling Groove. After that we drive straight up north, a few days of perfect weather forecasted.....

Sword of Gideon in the awesome Bealach na Ba. First multipitch on Torridonian Sandstone. Staples manages to fall off the first pitch, which is graded a whopping 4a, the fucking tit.

The Bealach na Ba. I'd be back to cycle up this monster later in the year.

Back to the incomparable Diabaig. Best rock in the world. First up is the Black Streak. Warm up for the big one.....       

    

The Diabaig Pillar. Best single pitch trad route in the world. 40m of crimpy brilliance up perfect golden rock. Not a bad first E2.

The Pillar in all its glory.

After getting the shit kicked out of us on Kilt Rock, we spend the final day of the trip doing a big link up of routes on Sron na Ciche; Chioch West, Arrow Route and Integrity.....       

After that we traverse the Cuillin Ridge over Sgurr Alasdair and Sgurr mich Chionich to finish on the Inn Pinn. Spectacular mountain day.

Abseiling off the UKs hardest mountain peak.

After that I spend the rest of the summer cycling. Here I am bollocksed out of my mind after finishing the Fred Whitton route - 100 miles and nearly 4000m of climbing. Going over Hardknott Pass right at the end nearly fucking kills me.

It is all training to cycle the North Coast 500 route of Scotland with Dad. Best trip of the year. 7 days of hills, wind, rain, the odd bit of sun, and the most beautiful scenery in the country. And of course the obligatory tourist pose at John O Groats. We travel pretty light, stay in hostels, and average about 85 miles a day. We also meet a guy in a cafe who turns out to be the first person to do Land's End to John O Groats.....on a fucking unicycle! Absolute nutter. 

I do the odd bit of rock climbing in the autumn, but my winter psyche is taking over. Taking advantage of the first cold snap in november, I climb a bunch of fun easy routes, mostly solo. Photos taken on the classic low grade route of Lochnagar, Central Buttress. Massive effort from Graham with the camera actually making me look sort of cool.... 

Dorsal Arete - the most fun grade II I've ever done!        

I don't want to spend the entire winter season in Scotland, so instead I head off to the Atlas Mountains in Morocco to bag a few peaks. Annoyingly there is no snow, meaning I spend the whole time scrabbling my way up scree slopes and choss. I do manage to climb 4 4000m peaks before getting bored and fucking off, including Jbel Toubkal.

Typical view from the High Atlas - shite rock, dust and desert!

Psyched to get back into winter, I attempt a lean Bowfell Buttress with my boss John. After 2 pretty hard pitches I find myself torquing up the crux crack - my first V 6 mixed lead. The crack is fine, but I go and ruin it all by taking a massive lob when a sketch hook rips on the thin slabby traverse above. Despite being all bashed up I manage to finish the pitch second try. Annoyingly the final pitch isn't properly frozen, so we reluctantly rap off from a big flake. Gutted not to finish the route but a mad little adventure anyway, and it's always good to push into a new grade.

Back in Scotland I climb the Stob Coire nan Lochain classic Scabbard Chimney with a super talented guy called Jamie. It is filled with useless powder. Needless to say I find it fucking desperate. Jamie floats up it of course, levitating up invisible hooks and edges, while I hack and flail and swear for every bitter inch of progress....

Final route of the year.....and what a route! The sustained cold spell in december has brought the icefalls of Beinn Udlaidh into condition. With Katie I climb the mega classic Quartzvein Scoop in pretty decent nick. Easily the most pure fun Scottish winter route I've ever done! The next day we walk into the Ben hoping for more ice. The Curtain is tantalisingly close to being formed but just too thin on the initial slab, so we have to leave it there. And then an innevitable december thaw rolls in. But it's been a great start to the 17/18 winter season, so here's hoping it continues that way, with some fat ice in the new year!

Finally a massive thank you to all my climbing partners this year; Staples, Pat, Megan, Javi, Grace, Cam, Anna, Gerwyn, Rich, Jimbo, Jack, John K, Graham, Dave B, Jamie and Katie. Thanks also to Bob for pushing me to go faster up the passes, and Dad for the NC500. Cheers for the awesome photos and more importantly the adventures.