New Year - new route, 1-1-13

Coire Mor Bothy with the gully line of The Great Escape (our route on to the plateau for the next day) in the distance

Mixed weather forecasts and packs already weighed down with the supplies required for a Hogmanay bothy trip had meant an unwillingness to cart in climbing kit, but crampons and axes had sneaked in to our packs.  Coire Mor, below Seanna Bhraigh was our choice of remote spots for our Hogmanay celebrations and the bothy lived up to expectations, a choice of five rooms and two stoves or an open fire greeted us on arrival and the whole place to ourselves.  A blazing fire, bottle of whiskey and the visitors book provided the Hogmanay entertainment, particularly the grave warning of the inescapable nature of Coire Mor.

Creag an Duine of Seanna Bhraigh looming above the bothy in the bright hogmanay moonlight

The new year was seen in with a lowering snowline and periodically moonlit peaks.  A relatively slow start the next morning, and streams offering little chance of crossing to get to Seanna Bhraigh, had us heading up Coire Mor towards Carn Ban, hopeful of finding an escape from this deeply scooped corrie.  Coire Mor is around 5km long running to the SW with a line of four corries to the south and steep slopes plunging 400m to the corrie floor in the north.  Admittedly, the wet snowy turf on the steep slopes to either side of the corrie offered only the prospect of a hellish day out and the potential icefalls were a bit to mobile to consider but a deep cutting gully cutting directly up the back wall of the corrie provided an obvious route.

A fine easy line for New Years Day (The Great Escape)

With the next band of showers racing up the glen we climbed up to the base of the gully, hoping to get snow rather than rain.  Over a short rocky step, with a small waterfall causing some discomfort, and we were attaching crampons (the first time for Audrey) and having a quick sandwich before starting up the gully.

On our way up The Great Escape with Audrey getting used to crampons on grade I ground

Initial soft snow gave way to harder neve as we wound up the gully through impressive bounding walls with remnants of icicles hanging from the ledges.  Views out to the west distracted as we gained height with the glacial scoop of Coire Mor opening out to frame Cul Beag and Stac Pollaidh in the west.  After a pause for a halfway Tunnock's Caramel Waffer we pushed on to the top happy with our climb.  On up in to the cloud and some compass work to the summit of Carn Ban and then down the north west spur, eventually through the slush zone and back to the bothy and reflection on a great first day of the year.

The spectacular glen of Coire Mor with Stac Polliadh and Cul Beag appearing in the distance

So much potential for new climbs in the remote northern corries of Carn Ban and the corries on the south side of Coire Mor, only two if which contain existing climbs.  And as it later turns out our route for the day was also a new addition: The Great Escape, 300m I/II, S. Andrews, A. Decou & J. Howard, 1-1-13.

A few unclimbed lines????

Blowing the Xmas cobwebs out (before the build up of Hogmanay cobwebs) - 27-12-12

The window of opportunity seemed to be swinging shut with a significant thaw and similarly significant gales on the way so it was fortunate that Donald was free to nip up to the Northern Corries to see what we could find.  It had been a perfect day on Boxing day so now I was itching to get out even with a 7:00 meeting time in Inverness (1 hour away).  So with little sleep I crept down the slippery roads, snow having dusted my path overnight.  A quick stop off to pick up Donalds boots and then up to the Cairngorm Mountain car park and that slight nagging feeling of doubt - conditions, ability and a questioning of if the misery which goes hand in hand with winter climbing was actually going to be worth it.

Patey's Route, with its two tricky steps, providing a funnel for the spindrift

Patey's Route had been on my mind for some time, cutting a striking line up Aladdin's Buttress, and how hard could it be if the man himself had soloed the first ascent in 1959 shod in nails and armed with only a single axe.

Hints of ice at the crucial steps confirmed our choice and we tramped up to a perfect wind-scoop in which we could prepare.  Donald led out the first pitch with the reassuring words that he had not really led ice before.  However, stopping just short of the first step this would not be a problem.  My attention was momentarily taken by an avalanche pouring out from Aladdin's Mirror.....quite a dark looking avalanche......with dark shapes in it?  When it came to rest a couple of hundred meters downslope, the two dark shapes stood up and dusted themselves down, lucky not to have hit any of the protruding rocks.  Not the greatest inspiration to confidence.  My pause for thought was not long though and soon I followed Donald up some icy steps and some well packed snow in the base of the runnel to where he stood, out of the spindrift beside an intimidating jumble of overhanging lightly iced blocks.

Climbers picking their way up to Fiacaill Buttress

A brief pause for pleasantries and then upwards to try to solve what looked like a tricky problem.  Gear was not a consideration as there wasn't any so it was just trying to find the faith to commit to the moves.  Pausing for consideration, a wave of spindrift caused me to duck in only to late to remember my hood was not up.  Now with my neck and back filled with a liberal pack of snow I focused back in.   Careful footwork and some wide bridging allowed the strength of the axe placements not to be questioned and then a long run out up the steepening bed of the cleft reached a peg and some relaxation.  But now the enclosing walls held a steepening line towards an icicle fringed overhang.  Luckily as the angle steepened ice lined the back of the chimney.  Moving up to the overhang calves and arms were starting to burn, placing a poor ice-screw only adding to the tired feeling.  The angle was highlighted by the ropes hanging free for 15 meters below me.  So instead of confronting the crux straight away I took up residence below the overhang in my ice cave, like some arctic troglodyte.  Eventually it was time to leave my well appointed abode with a runner attached to some old cord disappearing in to the ice, presumably attached to something, providing my only security.

A ramp out left was tricky to reach with feet, or anything else for that matter, and the steep slab above it offered no help.  A blind swing above found what felt like a solid placement over the lip of the overhang and allowed tentative movement out left.  Sneaking upwards a second axe over the overhang added security but balance was precarious and arms tiring.  At last I could get my feet back below me with the ice now offering the relative rest of near verticality.  Now I could see the easing and a wave of euphoria came with it.  A few more moves and I was over the lip and having a quick rest before seeking out a belay.

A well earned drink after a quick ascent of Patey's Route, starting Hogmanay very early

The ground now became easier and a couple of pitches led past the impressive Aladdin's Seat and round to the lip of the corrie.  After what had turned out to be a quick ascent in comparison to recent efforts (2.5 hours) a brief consideration was given to a second route but a walk down in the light was eventually thought the better option and it was good to make it back to my parents for haggis.

Introducing WINTER - 6 days in the Cairngorms - 29/11/12 to 4/12/12

Approaching winter - Lochnagar

With perfect timing winter seemed to appear as I had two weeks off between jobs and a place to stay on the edge of the Cairngorms.  A quick exploratory buzz up Miekle Pap on Lochnagar proved positive with the bulging granite plastered in snow and hoar and the exposed turf well exposed.  The next evening Harry arrived from the Lakes and we set to sorting out a rack, interrogating the guidebooks and packing our bags.  A relatively short sharp route proved most attractive, Magic Pillar on the Cathedral, an 80m IV5 holding to the Law of Kane that your going to be scared winter climbing so may as well get it out of the way early in the season and challenge your limits (this is at the upper end of what I have climbed before and Harry reassured me with his note that he had not really done much mixed climbing before). 

Magic Pillar takes the grooved arete to the right of the black cleft just left of centre

Outflanking the roof at the start of the second pitch

A ramble up the lower broken ground added a 60m pitch before Harry took on the attractive groove pitch which seemed to rise ever more steeply above us as we approached, leaving me to outflank the capping roof and finish up the arete.  After a lot of cleaning and some awkward moves to gain the niche Harry arrived at the belay.  I first had to traverse out right on steep ground but with fantastic turf.  It was then up left across a series of off balance shelves with marginal protection to gain the upper groove.  Although an initial sick type II fun feeling had come over me, as the pitch went on the climbing became engrossing and the frost bound scenery ebbed in to my consciousness.  All too quickly the plateau was there, but to take in the setting sun we made our way to the summit and took in the changing shades of the snow clad Cairngorms.  Catching glimpses of our route as we descended a black snails track picked out what had been a very steep climb.

Our slug trail up the Cathedral on Lochnagar

Back down to Ballater we were joined by Rich who had headed up from Edinburgh for a trip out to the Hutchinson Memorial Hut and a tramp out in to the Cairngorms.  An early start the next day and some pauses to pick up some logs to weigh us down for the walk in and we were in the Linn of Dee car park and starting to worry there may not be room in what is a very small hut.  The walk seemed to go on forever but as did the Cairngorm scenery which is so difficult to explain in its beauty.   

Approaching Derry Lodge

The Hutchison Memorial Hut

This was a new area of the Cairngorms for me and the mountain hut feel of our bothy was not to disappoint with Creagan a' Choire Etchachan rearing behind it and a refurbishment which was to allow a cosy night......as would the other 4 occupants (luckily the other two had a tent!).  A return in summer or winter to take on some of the challenges that this stunning crag presents is now a must.  After some intermittent sleep following a fine nights whiskey and chat we gathered together some motivation and headed out in to the white and up towards Beinn Mheadhoin.  From Loch Etchachan it was out with the compasses and using the torrs, which intermittently emerged from the blizzards, as waypoints to take us to the summit.  Reversing the procedure, breaks in the cloud started to form and the wild of the Cairgorms really showed itself.  If not for the heat stripping wind and blasting spindrift I could have stood watching the changing scene forever.

Wild on the summit of Beinn Mheadhoin

Derry Cairngorm emerging out of the blizzards

Back to the bothy for tea and then the long walk out, but at least this time without a bag full of logs, and to an interesting night in Kincardine O'Neil with some great rock 'n' roll.

View down to Glenmore on the walk in to Coire an t-Sneachda

To continue the punishment to our bodies it was up to the Northern Corries for a wander and some more climbing.  Sunday brought blue skies and a glut of climbers and ski-tourers out in to the northern Cairngorms so a mountaineering round of Coire an t-Sneachda taking in the Fiacaill Ridge seemed a good choice, not least due to the level of digging required on most of the routes.  This gave a great chance to assess our challenge for the following days and take in the hulking Cairngorms and their deep troughs in all their splendour.

The striking lines of Savage Slit and Fallout Corner in Coire an Lochain

Walking down, as pastels shaded the snow clad hills, it was a night in the Aviemore SYHA to rest up for the walk in to Coire an t-Sneachda and the challenges it was to hold for us the next day.

The torrs of Ben Avon and Beinn Mheadhion

Fresh snow sapped at the legs and was driven in to our faces but as we entered the depths of the coire conditions seemed to ease and we waded our way up to the base of Fluted Buttress to take on its direct ascent, a widening chimney line.  This was to be easier with ice but, as we were to find out this would be in short supply.  Harry took us across the powder clad slabs to the base of the initial, steep, v-groove chimney.  I then took the lead.

Person on the plateau surveying the fingers and a climber forming a slug trail towards the top of the lower chimney pitch on Fluted Buttress Direct

The route had been cleaned off the previous day and the lack of ice was immediately evident but blebs of turf offered encouragement.  Progress was slow and the climbing felt a bit thin but protection came along when needed.  As the chimney narrowed and steepened in to a v-groove of more limited options a smear of ice lining the back of the crack in which the groove terminated forced some delicate work but eventually allowed the beckoning turfy ledge above to be gained with a breath of relief that the reassuring thud of axe in turf provides.

Getting established in the initial chimney of Fluted Buttress Direct

Here the chimney widened and contained a number of snowy steps before I could 'relax' at the belay where the chimney branched.  Harry came up and led through a series of steep, right slanting corners before cutting back left over a number of tricky steps.  It then fell to me to move up to the left in a lovely gritstone style corner which lead to the crest of the buttress and then on to the top and a fine belay.  A great route and a challenge in the conditions presented.  The plateau was less hospitable than the previous day and we struggled back down in intermittent whiteout to the shelter of the car.  Legs were now truly tiring from the deep soft snow but one more day beckoned.

In the upper grooves heading for the crest of Fluted Buttress

A cunning plan not to end up breaking trail in to the coire again saw a later start and following the tracks to whichever buttress they led.  As it happened we caught up the trail breakers in the mouth of the coire and offered to share the work up to the Mess of Pottage and for us, Yukon Jack, now getting a taste for ice routes with no ice.  This route had seen no recent ascents and I offered Harry the meaty first pitch and with it cleaning duties.  From below the corner line looked attractive but I was only to appreciate its difficulties when I seconded up behind an exhausted Harry, having taken a decent fall off the last corner, below which he had taken a belay.  The route so far had relied on thin hooks, some blind, and horrifically sloping 'footholds'.  I was mildly shaken just seconding the climbing.  Now, I was below where Harry had taken his fall and contemplating how not to give him an impromptu acupuncture session.  First prospecting an escape on to The Hason Line, I realised that wasn't an option and so started a tentative investigation of the hooks, for what they were, in the corner which loomed above.  One good hook allowed me to reach up and prospect further.  No protection didn't inspire confidence and the old adage that the leader doesn't fall was ringing in my mind.  A few strands of grass seemed to break the snows surface above.  Pulling up on the one good hook and at full reach with my free arm I swung my right axe only to have it bounce with a spark off the bare granite hidden below the snow.  Now, more tentatively, I swung my axe into the area just above where the angle eased and was thankful to find some thin turf.  Now it was time for contemplation.  Were my placements solid?  What would I find above?  What in the hell are my feet to do?  With that I muscled my way up, scraping my left foot on the wall in front of me and swinging my right foot high to a reasonable ledge.  Pushing away and up from my axes, in a semi-mantleshelf move, and rocking over on to my right foot I reached balance and started looking above for safety.  No protection presented itself but cleaning off the snow revealed a line of turf following the continuation corner and negating the worry of the slabby granite which had to suffice for my crampons.  Joining The Haston Line and a convincing turf peg allowed a break in concentration and some relief at having made it up the line as a team.  Taking a belay on The Slant Harry and I decided we had had enough climbing for the day and took advantage of this fun way off the crag which always gives something of a mountaineering feel despite its position on a fairly diminutive crag.

The team

So, once more, round the coire rim and down to the ski car park again with some discussion of what grade we had actually climbed.  This time though it was across the Lecht and back to Dinnet for me and back to the Lakes for Harry.  Definitely time for a rest but hopefully for not to long before out in the hills again.

 

Goodbye Grit - 10 & 11/11/12

So, at last it was time for me to leave Cambridge and migrate back to the north....well, Aberdeen anyway.  And to say goodbye to the grit a full weekend was required.  Of course the grit is not sentimental and so rightly so The Peapod of Curbar unceremoniously spat me out once again but only after draining all the energy I had in my possession.  This meant that a more typical weekend ensued with many climbs well within my grade and a fair few pints in the Three Stags Heads.  The standout climb of the Saturday was a return to the fun slab and steep arete of The Brain in the disputed ground of Frogbar and Curbatt.

Laurence leading up the fine arete of The Brain at Frogbar

Hangovers in check it was time to head for Stanage and help out Vincent who was glad to see us with his many new climbers to the club and too few leaders or racks.  As always Stanage proved full of classics not climbed before yet Vincent managed to find anything but a classic of which the name fails me but a picture can speak a thousand words............

Follow the rope........

So that was my last trip from Cambridge to the Peak with the club and now my local crags will be in the Cairngorms and yet I will miss it.  Hopefully a few of the CUMC

Myths, Legends and Grit - 25-8-12

Anyone who knows Goldie will have heard of a multitude of his friends, the names of which mean nothing to the uninitiated.  Some may even have started to believe that they did not exist and in fact only occur in myths and legends.  This was a weekend when I at last met Greggor, Hauke, et al. and it turned out that yes these people were as friendly as Goldie had always made out.  It started, as all great trips to the Peak should, in the Three Stags Heads and with one or two too many pints of Black Lurcher (possibly one of the mistakes that Dave MacLeod suggests 9 out of 10 climbers make).


So, with hangovers charged and in a swarm of midges the like of which you might expect in the NW Highlands of Scotland we trundled down to Burbage.  After as much faff as I could manage......in part in tribute to the imminent departure of Goldie and in part as an effort to allow the hangover to subside it was time to take the plunge and try to add to my summer of E1's (ok, well, this would be my second).  And so it was I was stood a the bottom of a seeping Long Tall Sally. 

 After slipping off the first few moves which were still wet I managed on the second attempt to get established.  So well established in fact that I made little progress! But eventually with consternation over every move, checking of gear, cursing that I had placed the gear in the holds, and when all else failed just manning TF up I made progress.  After what seemed like an age and a lot of sweating I rolled exhausted on to the top after an intense 12m of climbing with faint memories of a cry of 'long tall sissy' drifting up from below.

Zeb then dutifully made me feel better about my climbing by struggling his way up behind me.  This set a bit of a trend for the day and put me in mind of a suitable subtitle for Zebulon 'top roper' Levine.  After a few more routes at Burbage the call went out that only means one thing - find those reserve cans of MTFU, open them up and head across to Higgar Tor.  For me this meant seconding one route (my MTFU was all used up) but those more talented among us ticked the Rasp, the File and a few more classics.

Goldie saying farewell to Grit and a fair amount of skin on the File