I'm alive, and packing for winter

It's been a while, eh?

Sorry for the impromptu hiatus but I got to the point where there was nothing really that I was doing worth writing about and filler felt pointless. Not that I've got a huge reader base but hey ho. But now the fun begins - it's almost Christmas, there is snow on the peaks and it's almost time to unleash the ice axes on some unsuspecting Scottish routes. It's time to start checking the gear for this winter.

I'm psyched.

Packing for Winter

For all his faults Charlie is surprisingly fair when it comes to complimenting me to others. When going through some of our photos from a weekend in Wales last November we came across one of us prepping to leave the hostel, with my bag neatly packed whilst Charlie's gear was literally thrown all over the car boot and the floor. Charlie chuckles, points at me and says 'he may climb like a knob but the boy knows how to pack a rucksack'.

My neatly packed bag on the left, Charlie's...pile on the right.

When going through my emails recently there were a few with a theme - people wanted to know what goes into my pack on the hill in winter. Honestly I was a little surprised because I've spent all of maybe two weeks on the hill in winter, but as I was planning on spending a day going through all my winter gear to check what needed replacing before this season, I thought I may as well blog about it. After all, if Charlie thinks I can pack well then who am I to judge? Just don't take my packing as gospel - I'm far from an expert and there are people out there who can tell you far better what you should and shouldn't be carrying!

Pictured below is everything that would be in my pack at the start of a day on the hill, minus any of the clothing I'd be wearing from the off.

1 - Rope
At the moment our main winter rope is my beast - a 60m 11.5mm dry-treated Mammut rope. It's seen constant use in summer and winter for a couple of years now, so it's almost time for retirement but it's probably got another season in it. I'll probably be replacing this with two half-ropes for next season, purely for weight reasons - it's bloody heavy!

2 - Harness
Petzl Corax 2 - simple, rugged, fully adjustable leg loops (have you ever tried getting a harness on and off over crampons? Go ahead, try it) and comfortable enough to be worn all day.

3 - Winter rack
It's not all there I'll confess - a lot of my winter gear is in storage still. Bearing in mind I'm still seconding most of the routes we do and would only be leading on a scramble, my rack is pretty pared down compared to Charlie's. In addition to the normal assortment of quickdraws, slings, hexes and nuts I've added a pair of ice screws, a bulldog and pitons (both not pictured).

4 - Hydration
Ask anyone I've climbed with - I drink a lot. In the summer I normally have a massive 3-litre hydration bladder, but in winter I can get away with a couple of litres. In the thermos is normally hot Ribena, purely because it hydrates better than coffee or tea (both of which are diuretics).

5 - Crampons
Grivel G12 C2 crampons. In a crampon bag so they don't pierce everything else in my bag. 'Nuff said really.

6 - Pack
Those of you who are super observant (and may or may not need to get out more) will notice this is a different pack to what I was using on the hill last winter - this is a Mammut Trion 35 which if I'm honest is a far better size for a one-day trip. My Lowe Alpine is great when I need to carry a sleeping bag, tent, food and water for a couple of days but when on the hill, once you strip harness, rack and crampons out of it it's basically empty and tends to flop around a lot.

7 - Helmet
An absolute essential, especially in winter when ice and rock fall is more likely. Comfortable, impact protective with head torch webbing/clips is what you need to look for. Always make sure it's CE certified too!

8 - Ice Axes
I use a pair of DMM Fly ice axes which are pretty much spot on for what I do - straight and long enough to be used as a half-decent walking axe but with its slightly bent shaft, T-rated pick and trig rest mean it can still be used perfectly well on routes well above the grade I can currently climb. If its a walk rather than a climb I'll only take one axe and replace the pick with one from a DMM Raptor which saves my palm from bruising on the Fly's raised pick when walking with it. Oh, and leashes too - dropping an axe is never a good idea.

9 - Spare insulation
Winter is bloody cold, so a decent packable lightweight insulation layer is essential. I tend to skew away from using down in anything but a basecamp jacket purely because when down gets wet it becomes useless, but a synthetic jacket will keep me warm even if it's sodden. This is a Mountain Equipment Compressor jacket which is my go-to insulation piece at winter.

10 - Camera
Panasonic Lumix DMC FT-5 - perfect for me and what I do. Crush proof to 100kg, drop proof from 2m onto concrete, freeze proof and takes decent photos. What more could a man want?

11 - First Aid Kit
A small but essential bit of kit on the mountain. I'll do a detailed breakdown of what I carry in another post but a decent First Aid Kit and the training on how to use it should be equipment in the locker of any mountaineer. I really don't want to be that guy who has to call Mountain Rescue for an injury that could be easily treated myself.

12 - Goggles
Wales last winter proved to me how essential these were. Up on the summit of Tryfan the conditions were so awful that we spent less than a minute on the summit with faces bent in the face of biting, freezing hail and/or driven powder snow. These goggles allow me to see when the going gets nasty - when it's most important! Tinted lenses help to up the contrast of colours, making it easier to differentiate areas in low light.

13 - Ice Axe maintainance kit
After a bolt fell out of my axe head in Scotland I always keep a spare pair of bolts, allen keys and tape in my pack for emergencies.

14 - Jetboil and food
A warm meal can be the difference between life and death in a survival situation. In other situations a warm lunch just below the summit is a huge morale boost. I take a couple of high-calorie dehydrated or vaccum packed meals, my burner and spare gas every time we're on the mountain. Simply melt some of the abundant snow, cook your food, and hey presto, smiles all round. Use the left over water to re fill my thermos for a double whammy of warmth. Chocolate is always essential, though.

15 - Spare gloves
I was in Snow and Rock when I first started climbing and I overheard two staff talking about spare gloves, and the phrase 'have spares of your spares' has stuck with me. At least two pairs of warm, waterproof (and importantly dry!) outer gloves are always in my pack, along with a spare pair of liners. No matter what the day throws at me (or how many gloves I drop) I can keep my fingers dry and toasty.

The final product, everything in or on the pack

Not pictured, but always carried:

Snow shovel and probe
When going out me and Charlie always  have at least one shovel and probe between us, ideally with a probe each. The probes give us a chance of finding one another if either of us is caught in an avalanche and the shovel means we can dig out shelter in an emergency. A good metal collapsible design is the best, with a wide, flared blade for moving soft snow quickly.

Head Torch
A bare essential, but embarrassingly enough I can't find any of mine when I was setting up this photo. A good, comfortable head torch with fresh batteries and an adjustable beam is what I look for. Something like the Petzl Myo RXP is perfect. Oh, and always carry spare batteries.


So that's my gear. It's not an exhaustive list of everything I carry for every situation, it will change depending on what I'm doing and who I'm with and as I learn more about this whole climbing affair, but for now, I hope this satisfies some questions.

See you all soon! (I promise this time)

The North Face: Top Gear Mountaineer goes branded

Okay no, I haven't sold my soul. No you will not see adverts for TNF popping up all over the blog. No I'm not being paid to endorse products.

What I am doing, is through work I've been given the chance to test a load of The North Face's product range. Some of the stuff is pretty solid and has been around the block a few times, some of it is pretty cutting edge kit, brand new releases and the like. They have even leant me a brand new HD action camera to get some awesome videos of the kit on test, which is always a fun thing to have!

Most of my reviews, videos and suchlike will be going directly onto the Blacks website, but some of the better ones, or the stuff I feel is more relevant to the site will also go up here.

So keep your eyes peeled. And who knows, more freebies could come my way, and maybe I do you guys all a favour and share the love...

Bouldering Abroad: Charlie and Tom in Iledia

This post was meant to go up many moons ago; this trip that Charlie and Tom took (without me, I'll add sans bitterness) was meant to be posted just after they got back. That was in April. August isn't too long to wait I suppose...

And with that, I hand you over to the ever charming Charlie.

Day 1

After a long drive the night before (mainly as a result of my misplacing my driving license) Tom had negotiated the hair-raising hairpin bends of the Pyrenean foothills. Our base was to be Santa Engracia 15km outside of the nearest town of Tremp. This was an ideal launch site for our many jollies in days to come. 

We allowed ourselves a lie in and didn’t get going much before 1pm. Usually this would have been a source of frustration but, due to an excellent forecast and travel weariness, there was no rush. Todays climbing was to be a gentle easing into the week with a short mooch to El Niu, a sector in the Collegats Area. These limestone slabs would provide the canvas for our grunting and inelegant renditions. Neither of us could claim to be experienced sport climbers so there were a number of disciplines that we needed to get our heads round, although none of them would take us far beyond what we have acquired from our time in the peaks and southern sandstone at home. The climbing was excellent with grades ranging from IV+ to 7b. Good footwork being the key as hand holds were not always forthcoming. The crags orientation meant that we were provided with shade from the heat of the afternoon sun and allowing shares in Nivea to remain stable (I do not tan well). An evening of eating and guidebook consultation followed.

Day 2 

We had settled on Sector Cine as our area of exploit for the days climbing with excellent recommendations from the guidebook. Promising unique rock formations that supposedly inspired Gaudi architecture in Barcelona we had high hopes. Unfortunately we were to be disappointed. The walk in was unnavigable with every turn seemingly herding us into a cul-de-sac of rotten, overhanging mudstone. Upon attempting a “direct” approach over said overhang, only to have a large section fall away, we thought that we should double back and find another way. The “20 minute” walking had become a 1.5 hour mission. Upon deciphering the maze of false tracks we reached the foot of the crag slightly deflated. We roped up and I set off onto a V+.

The experience we had had with the rock on our approach did little to inspire confidence in the bolt placement let alone hand or foot. I called it quits 1 bolt from the chains just below an overhang. Tom decided not to let my wetness quash his attempt and had a go. With loud expletives he managed the move that I had wimped out of and cleaned the route saving us from leaving equipment at the scene. After a few more routes we

decided that we were “not having a nice time” and retreated to the nearby El Niu where I massaged my bruised ego on some routes next to those we had scaled the day before.

Day 3

We decided to make the long drive to Cavallers right into the Pyrenees. Upon arrival we found that the road

was closed due to avalanche risk. This felt a little cautious as our trusty Fiat Panda’s thermometer was showing 27 degrees...we were scuppered. Having committed to the longer journey we had no choice but to call this a “rest day” ate our packed lunch and made for home.

Day 4

Having spoken to our host we took her advice and travelled south near to the village of Camrasa where there is a huge climbing area right next to a huge HEP dam. Keen to make up for lost time, we roped up outside the car and set up off the first route on the Mercant Estil sector. The pocketed limestone walls were a vast improvement on the fragile muddy conglomerate of El Cine in Collegats, as was the 1 minute walk in. After a few successful climbs we found ourself at the foot of “el dedo de Satan”. Due to its relatively diminutive height we thought that this could be done.... Its a 7b+. We assured ourselves that, with a top rope, there was no way we could fail. This was not the case I managed the first 3 moves with Tom only 1 further before we decided that perhaps this wasn’t “in our locker” This was a real eye opener at the terrifying ability of those that can wriggle their way up 50 meter 9b’s. We tackled what was my favourite route so far. Miss Linda (6a) was a 15m series of honeycombed rock face which cemented this area as the best outdoor climbing experience I have had.

Day 5

Undeterred by the abortive jolly to Cavallers we decided to make another long drive to Coll de Nargo. We arrived at a crag called Gegants which consisted of towering free standing spires which looked somewhat beyond our grade. Never the less we toiled down a dirt road which was a bridge too far for the mighty Panda. After a particularly european approach to parking (fuck it, here will do) we continued on foot to find some good limestone climbing which consisted of slabby sections with tough boulder like problems thrown in. This was enjoyed with a bizarre backing track of incessant bleating of the sheep heard grazing at the foot of the crag.

Day 6

Having has such a fantastic session on day 4 we decided to return to Camarasa which would cap off the holiday. We moved ourself along the crag around the routes we had previously scaled. As we tired the approach to the routes became a little less serious which lead to many of, what Tom would refer to as, “postures sexy”...

This at one point involved what is likely to be the first use of a “tree hook” (the arboreal descendant of a heel hook). We spent the rest of the afternoon pootling up 6a’s and V+’s and headed home for some grub and packing :(

Summary

This was our first taste of outdoor sport climbing which is remarkably different to those gritty trad offerings of the peak district. We found that once we trusted the reliability of bolts and suppressed the terror of re-threading the rope through the chains, we could start to really push our grade without the nagging doubt in that marginal wire placement in a crumbly crack. Lleida was a beautiful place with a huge range of routes for all abilities (despite what the guide books would have you believe. I cannot recommend it highly enough!

I would also recommend our accommodation which was very plush for the tiny cost and comes with its own, very knowledgeable, host and mother of one of the GB bouldering squad.

http://www.ownersdirect.co.uk/accommodation/p8001114?uni_id=2

Top Gear Mountaineer goes to the Movies

As I've mentioned previously, back in March I did some work for a brand on an advertising campaign. I couldn't say who, what or where or who with but I can now reveal all. What I was working on was the campaign for new releases in the Adidas Terrex footwear range: the Solo and the Scope.

We spent three days filming in the Snowdonia mountain range, and it was a really interesting experience to be in front of the camera. Watching the final piece was really interesting, especially being able to piece shots together and knowing what was filmed where and when and how.

I also had the very special experience of being able to work alongside some genuinely famous people: Al Humphreys, adventurer and adventure writer par excelence; Alex Messenger, climber, BMC officer and editor of the UK's official climbing magazine Summit and Shauna Coxsey, International Gold-Medal winning boulderer. I was brought along purely for technical knowledge and if I'm honest it was kind of intimidating working with such big names in the industry.

Anyway, less of me, more of the videos.


Oh, and there's this one. I get to talk in this!




So that's it. I'm now famous.

I'll have my people call your people.

The Nature of Danger

As a climber, young person and general man-about-town I often get or overhear comments about climbing, such as 'oooh isn't that dangerous' or 'oooh I couldn't do that' or 'wow that looks dangerous, you're so manly' (well...sometimes). It makes me sad and a little angry when I hear these comments, because they make me think about something that honestly doesn't enter my mind a lot - how dangerous is this sport that I enjoy so much? So I decided to write about it, and see what you guys think.

I'm going to start with a fundamental truth, from which no one can escape: Climbing is dangerous. There, I said it. Don't come and yell at me; everyone knows and acknowledges this. If they don't, then they are certifiably insane. Those lovely folks at the BMC posts massive info graphics at every climbing center in the country, reminding participants that climbing carries risk of injury or death, and that we all take on those risks by participating. It's even on the footer of their website. That isn't to say everyone who climbs will lose a limb or die or get mangled; incredibly few do, for a sport that has such high participation numbers and takes people to such extreme places as the Swiss Alps, the Peruvian Andes and the exotica of the English Peak District. And that, dear readers, is due to a recognition of risk.

The happy notice in the footer of the BMC website

No one, not even the absolutely mental free-climbing highballers would say that climbing isn't risky; it's one of the reasons we invest eye-wateringly large amounts of money in the latest protection and gear and (some of us at least) will quite willingly spend hours in Snow and Rock, Cotswolds, UrbanRock or any of dozens of other climbing shops picking the strongest, or the lightest or sportiest quickdraw or cam. It's because we're all absolutely terrified of falling and we want to know that the gear we just placed into the wall is the best it can be, to make up for our relative ineptitude at actually placing the stuff. It's why we spend loads of money on Winter Skills courses - we don't want to guess at how to do it and get it wrong.

Danger attracts many of us to climbing in the first place, for at a base fundamental level most of us are massive adrenaline junkies. You only have to look at the top-level climbers and mountaineers such as Berghaus primo Leo Houlding who, once the buzz of going up things has worn off, decide to take up paragliding or wingusit skydiving or any number of high-intensity extreme sports. For most of us, we never reach a level at which climbing cannot provide a buzz - we're never quite good enough. But it must be said that it's the danger of it that makes it fun; that enormous endorphin rush that hits you when you top out of a climb or pass a big crux without falling to your demise. And it doesn't matter about objective risk; in terms of thrill it's the perception of risk that makes it so much fun.

It's accepting and embracing of risk that I believe inherently makes you a safer and better climber. Its
accepting risk that means you have the fear that makes you cling like a man possessed to the rock with massive run out and shaky protection. It's also the accepting of the fact that there is risk that makes you cautious and aware; its what makes you back off a route when the surrounding slopes are aching to avalanche, or the sky is dark with heavy storm clouds and you're approaching a big multi-pitch sea cliff. It's also what makes me buy bright coloured jackets - if I get lost out on a mountain at night, I want Mountain Rescue to be able to find me. I mean it might also be an aesthetic choice but there's logic behind the decisions. No mountain-ninja melting into the darkness for me.

Honestly I believe it's the existence and recognition of risk that makes me a safer climber; if I didn't recognize it, I wouldn't prepare for it. Plus, it makes this stuff fun enough to keep coming back to.

Here's to a summer of safe climbing, but make sure it's fun.

More Internet Housework

Facebook
I'm finally embracing social media in the way I should; Top Gear Mountaineer now has a Facebook page! I'll be using it to keep everyone updated with blog posts, sling up funny or interesting things I find on the internet that are a bit too small to make a post and more up-to-date news and photos. A bit of something for everyone.

Find it here, click the link, like it and share posts with everyone who matters Top Gear Mountaineer Facebook Page !


Alex Jones's Moonlight Buttress bid
Some of you may know, some of you may not know but Alex Jones (off the One Show and other BBC goodness) has completed a big-wall ascent of all 1,200ft of Moonlight Buttress in Utah. the BMC has been supporting her, and in respect of her climb, they have decided to donate all the profits of their new beginner's magazine 'Get into Climbing' to Sport Relief until 1st April.

So go out and buy it - the money goes to a good cause and it might just get you into this climbing lark, which is never a bad thing. Find all you need to know here: Alex Jones Completes Moonlight Buttress




Twitter So I've been getting more active and vocal on twitter; if you want micro updates as to what I'm doing (and general rantings and angry posts about pushy people on London trains...) follow me @jimmydoodoo

Film stars and ultimate primadonnas

Where I've been... Those of you who DO follow me on twitter will know I've been away for a few days in Snowdonia on a little project. I can reveal that what I was doing was filming the advert for the new Adidas Outdoor Stealth range of shoes. A very fun project that got me into contact with a personal hero and some fantastic people, including Shauna Coxsey (World-ranked boulderer, professional climber, Adidas Athlete and good egg), Al Humphreys (Adventurer, author, blogger and cracker-outer of excellent cheese-based jokes) and Alex Messenger (An important man to British Mountaineers...) I'll let you find out who they are in detail, but definitely check them out! It was a pretty unique experience, in some ways good and some ways bad - seeing behind the lens does kill some of the mystique of cinematography, and trying to avoid looking directly down the lens when having a closeup is nigh-on impossible. But then I got a trip to Wales, and that's always good in my book!
The campaign (and shoes) goes live on the 5th May, so keep your eyes peeled and you might just see me hovering in the background of a film over Shauna's shoulder... Oh, and the shoes aren't bad either!

Finally, Gear Reviews It seems a lot of people have been enjoying the couple of gear reviews I've put up; with that in mind, Gear Spotter is going to expand and have far more attention over the next few months. If there is any gear you want me to review, or a category of kit to explain, let me know through the Facebook or Twitter pages and I'll see what I can do!

The Gear Spotter: Lowe Alpine Alpine Attack 45:55 Backpack Review

Introduction

I've seen in my time outdoors and in retail that packs, especially small-to-mid size packs are often underanalysed, when in truth they should be the cornerstone of a climber's gear. After all, they carry all your gear to and from the crag or up and down the hill - if they're badly designed or uncomfortable they can turn a good day bad and a bad day utterly awful.

Lowe Alpine is a solid, well-respected brand in the Outdoors world, building packs and clothing (intermittently) since the mid 1970's, drawing on experience gained by the Lowe family in climbing and alpinism. Today it's owned by Equip, a UK based company but still churns out extremely high quality gear for both outdoors people and photographers with their Lowe Pro range. Everything is designed to be sleek, go-faster, no massive frills and functional.

The Review

In use as a daysack on Etive Mor, Jan 2014

This pack has been with me everywhere since I bought it in mid-2013, from simple weekends at music festivals to carrying all my gear in Scotland and Wales. It's been used as a shopping bag and a haul sack, a pillow and a seat,as well as its intdended use as an alpinism pack. And after all this use and abuse over almost a full year, it barely looks used a day. The build quality and resilliance on this is absolutely astounding - even for a Lowe Alpine product. I had an Airzone 35:45 before that started to give way after about a year of continuous use - I've used this the same, if not harder and as I said, it barely looks like it's been taken out of the packaging. It's been used to carry gear and rack for a day on Ben Nevis and everything I need for a weekend's climbing and camping in Froggatt - there's nothing I've thrown at this that it hasn't been able to do.

The overall design of the pack is simple, streamlined and functional - a single large sack, a lid with two pockets and an excellent back system. The back itself isn't adjustable, so I'd recommend trying on in store before you buy - the 45:55 is longer and wider, for larger backs, whilst its smaller 35:45 brother is far more suited to narrower, shorter backs. If that doesn't work, they do a 'women's fit' ND version, try that on for size, it's just harder to find in store. On the standard size fits like a glove and I can honestly say it's never given me any kind of back pain, even with heavy weights and long distances. The straps are a little narrow, especially higher on the shoulder but give good stability when on the move, and the chest strap on the new (2014) version is, I think, far more prone to failure than the tried-and-tested version on my (2013) model but that's the only gripe on the load-bearing system I can think of. I'm yet to find anything that matches it as an alpinism pack. I would have preferred some extra external storage - some pockets or somesutch so I don't have to dive into my actual pack for a thermos or gloves, but I know why they haven't and I can live without them.

The headlocker system in
play - beautiful and simple

The buckle design, whilst not being ground breaking and innovative is extremely strong and effective. Unlike quick-release buckles that tend to have a tendency to fail at the worst time and let all the stuff stored under the lid spill down the side of a crag, the solid metal double-back buckle is absolutely bombproof and even comes in handy as an emergency bottle opener for summit brews! The webbing that makes up the rest of the buckle is solid, as would be expected, but the stitching and attachment points are all absolutely fantastic - almost up to the same kind of standard as used on climbing harnesses, so you can yank it down as hard as you want and it'll just ask for more - a good thing to have in a pack with floating lid capacity.

The lid itself is another work of simplicity and genius - a total floating piece, adjustable to an enormous degree to allow for the stuffing of those jackets, ropes, racks, shoes, small children and baguettes that just won't fit in the main sack. It could be potentially improved by making the lid totally removable without extensive fiddling to act as a simple sack, but that's a tiny gripe for such an impressive pack.

One item of note is the headlocker ice axe attachment system - it's simply brilliant, yet such a simple system that I'm honestly surprised that no one thought about it before. A single attachment bar passes through the leash hole that's found in the head of every axe and two attachments higher up. No matter how technical or simple the axe it'll fit, and it's not going anywhere unless you want it to. Tighten the pack up and the system is tight. Simple but brilliant.

Conclusions

Huge recommendation for the Alpine Attack packs - the one thing I'd say is to check what size you're using at the moment and work out if you need more, less, or the same space. They swallow a surprising amount of kit and when under-loaded the straps can sometimes can lack a bit of adjustment. But for the sheer amount of stuff you can...well stuff into one of these and the load remain stable and comfortable, I'd say it's definitely worth the investment. And just like any gear, look after it and it'll look after you - but this one can take a hell of a beating

Pros

+ Excellent back system for alpinism and climbing - hugs the load to the body

+ Fold-away waist strap padding makes it comfortable with and without harness

+ Headlocker ice axe system is both simple and incredibly effective

Cons

- Simple sack system lacks any exterior pockets

- Shoulder straps are a little too narrow for those with wider backs

For more in the Gear Spotter range of reviews, check them out here

What a difference a year makes

For those of you who have followed this little corner of the internet since its birth, it will be common knowledge that this blog is now a year old. So too is my love affair with climbing. A chilly evening in late January, my boss (at the time) and a measly £25 joining fee and gear rental was all that it took to spawn what is, at its barest an obsession with going up things and being extremely cold.

I would say I've done quite a lot for only a year's climbing - I've gone from top-roping 3's and 4's indoors to comfortably leading 5+ and attempting 6's indoors and  VDiff outdoors. I've gone from absolutely no knowledge of technique both technical and physical, to at least a solid base understanding of knots, their uses, weight transfer, footwork, body positioning, crampon use, ice axe technique and all the other things fundamental to climbing and mountaineering. I can build a safe belay and bring up a second, rig a recoverable abseil and use it safely, I can front-point, plunge step, (just about) climb Scottish mixed and navigate my way off a mountain relatively safely.

In the mountains I've experienced the highs and the lows - from seeing the sun rise over the Western Highlands from 500m up Etive Mor to suffering debilitating wind and rain on the summit of Glydr Fawr. I've learned success is never guaranteed - you're at the mercy of the mountain, the weather and your own physical condition. Self-reliance is a huge part of climbing - knowing that you set that bomber anchor, you placed that cam properly, you tied those knots right. There can be no space for 'that'll do' or 'I hope this works'. It must be perfect every time. The responsibility is huge, lots of the time even as a second you're attached to another human being by two dozen meters of 11mm dynamic kernmantel climbing rope, and if you fail for a split second that could be game over. It also teaches you maturity - the mountains are no respecter of manliness or drive - if it's time to back off you pay attention and listen. It's not a game for those of a nervous disposition.

The people I've met have been amazing - from building a solid friendship with Charlie, my climbing partner (who will hopefully start to contribute to this place soon enough...) to industry reps, professional climbers and enthusiastic amateurs. Being a climber is like being in a massive extended family - everyone knows what you've been through or are going through, or are looking to you for guidance. Everyone has a story and most everyone is willing to share. Even those not of the climbing fraternity, but those who support them like the lovely staff at Pete's Eats in Llanberis or the lovely couple who put us up for a whole weak in Strathssynt, Glencoe. Everyone has a part to play and I can say I'm very glad I got to meet them.

It's also shown up flaws in myself - arrogance, impatience, lack of physical condition and a penchant for obsession I didn't know I quite had. Before I started climbing I would occasionally browse motorcycle websites, glance at properties to rent or browse 9gag. Now my internet history is filled with endless climbing blogs, route plans, gear offers and inspirational videos. Hardly a day goes by when I don't think 'hey, that looks fun to climb', even wandering around the artificial landscape of London. I'm forever annoying Charlie with pipe dreams of Alpine glory or a daring first ascent in one of the unconquered ranges that still exist in the world. He quickly brings me back to reality but it doesn't last long - I'm soon dreaming again.

I've been climbing for a year and I've had a wealth of experiences that some climbers wouldn't have in their entire lives - indoor, midlands gritstone, bomber indoor ice, patchy neve, powdery welsh windslab and slabby scottish mixed. The plans for the future go even further and farther afield - Finnish waterfall Ice, French Granite and hopefully even some Alpine routes. The training is upped, but so is the interest - I've gone from having a casual interest to seriously considering this as a career. I could quite happily spend the rest of my life going up and down mountains in all conditions and sharing that with anyone who wanted to listen. There are even first steps of that happening already.

I hope you've enjoyed being with me on the trip so far, and I hope you'll continue to follow me for a long time to come. It should be a blast.

Winter in Wales - Glydr Fawr and Crib Goch

There's an old adgage that I've stuck by all through my time in the outdoors, one my father told me. "Any fool can rough it, but it takes a skilled man to make himself comfortable in any situation." This has resonated with me; where others will take only the bare essentials and suffer the consequences, I've been happier to carry a little extra weight for a lot of extra comfort.

However, there are times when even the most prepared man has to rough it. I had to do it, in driving horizontal sleet on Glydr Fawr. In winter. Boy was I roughing it.

The storm that the UK's been suffering for several months showed it's teeth whilst we were there - on our first day we started out on a bleak, damp midwinter's day which quickly developed into the worst conditions I've ever experienced on a mountain. Horizontal, 45 mile an hour driven sleet, rain and hail greeted us in different stages. The wind was just about bearable, but me and Charlie are both 100+kg and it was giving us difficulties, especially on the higher slopes. Whilst it didn't make the ascent any fun per se, it did make it a challenge. Even putting crampons on was sketchy, as everything threatened to get blown over the ridge line at a moment's notice. It was even windy enough to affect the outcome of an HDR shot I took of the mountain.

After we crossed the snowline (which was only around 200m below the summit) the ascent got nice and fun.
With crampons on we tramped up the approach slope, careful to give a wide berth to the cornice sat in the nearby saddle. It wasn't technical, it wasn't difficult but it felt fun to front-point up the last of the slope, haul myself up onto the summit ridge and then tramp the last few hundred meters up to the summit.

The decision on the summit was that we really didn't want to hang around - when you have to bellow to be heard and can barely open your eyes because you've got vicious winds being driven at you, you don't want to hang around on the most exposed bit of mountain. Not to mention we were both soaked to the skin having forgotten to bring waterproof trousers. We thought we'd make a swift descent to the car, dry socks and warmth. Charlie, being more sure on his feet than me in the deep powder snow we were encountering trotted down rapidly, whilst I took the slow, steady 'plunge step' approach.

All in all, though, it only took us 3 hours to go up and down a 1001m mountain - a massive improvement on my pace from Scotland, which is a positive. However we were absolutely drenched - I had pools of water in my boots and I stretched my softshell trousers beyond their elastic limit - they went all baggy! I'll tell you something for free - the drying room at the hostel was very well used that night, and I was very, very thankful we decided to stay in a hostel rather than camp. We'd have had a mare of a time if we'd done that...

Day 2 was to be a winter repeat of a route we'd done the last time we were here - the Crib Goch route up Snowdon. Whilst you might say what's the point, it's something you've already done, it's a totally different undertaking when covered by a thick blanket of snow and blasted by icy winter winds. Especially when that snow is poor condition, thick, deep and exhausting. Much of it was the same, yes - but much of it was different, and it was an interesting approach. It took longer than last time, and we had some whiteout, which was an interesting experience. Everything just dissappears and you lose all perspective of distance, space or even direction - thankfully I had a massive yellow lump to follow who knew the ridge and the line we had to take. At least there was one of us...


The walk off Snowdon, however, was the most difficult bit of the day. The snow was terrible - incredibly deep and seemingly hollow underneath - me and Charlie both repeatedly fell into the snow up to our crotches, but only one leg at a time, so the other would fold comically underneath us as we struggled to use our axe and hands to stand up. I even snagged some pleasant holes in my softshells, including putting my front points through the back of my knee, which wasn't too much fun. It's just another thing to buy, I guess...

All in all though, this trip was more a battle with poor conditions and exhaustion than a technical challenge, orfun per se. But hey, you've got to have the bad days to make the good ones worth it. Hopefully a period of calm some time in the next month or so will allow us to have some fun before this winter season ends. Having said that though, a good portion of me is excited for a summer's climbing. I graduate university in May, and after that all I have to do for summer is find a job and climb.

The Gear Spotter: 66° North Snaefell Jacket Review

Introduction
66° North is an Icelandic company, founded in 1926 to design and build clothing to protect Icelanders from the extremely harsh condition of their home. In 2014 it is a major player in modern technical outdoor apparel, with close connections to companies such as Polartec, YKK and eVent. All of their products are borne out of necessity and are designed for the Icelandic climate - so they are very demanding on the materials they use and many of the designs they come up with are innovative and well-thought through.

The Review

Around a year ago I managed to get myself one of the new Snaefell jackets (not to be confused with the down-filled, longer cut Snaefell Parka) through work - after reading up on the new fabric it used and several positive reviews (although from 66 staff...) I decided that i needed a new shell, and it was worth a punt. I mean, the Icelandic Mountain Rescue teams use the Snaefell jacket and they know a thing or two about existing in extreme climates. The jacket and its membrane also won an ISPO and Scandinavian Outdoor awards in 2011.

I've now had it for almost a year, and can safely say it was most definitely a wise investment. I've used many jackets over my time including softshells, hardshells, GoreTex, eVent, Windstopper and I can't quite place the Snaefell into any one category. One one hand it's fully waterproof (10,000mm hydrostatic head) over and above most of what the casual walker and climber would need, but it's also a semi-stretch membrane and extremely breathable, which are normally reserved for softshell. With the advent of these new high-breathable waterproof membranes I'd almost suggest a new term, between hard and softshell of 'firmshell'. It doesn't quite have the waterproofing of the solid hardshells or the breathability of a softshell but a bit of both to make it a great all rounder.

The cut is short, much like a softshell, with a good wide chest and shoulders for someone of my build (although the cut seems to narrow slightly in the smaller sizes, so you thinner ladies and gents won't feel like you're wearing a tent). The arms are pre-curved to give good movement, but a standout point must be the hood; it's got a solid peak to keep rain and snow out of the eyes, is fully 3-point adjustable for use with and without a helmet, has a high zip to keep stuff out of your neck and is also semi-mobile thanks to the stretch in the membrane, making looking around a far easier experience. It's got a good, heavy rubberised waterproof zip to keep bulk down and clean, velcro-adjusted cuffs. It's worked fantastically in both summer showers and around town in winter; the face fabric is hard-wearing and I haven't had any problems with it just yet, except for people thinking it's odd to see someone in a bright yellow jacket on the tube in the morning rush hour.

There are, however a couple of negative points; when using it climbing the jacket is cut very slightly too short and doesn't quite have the stretch to compensate; as a result it has a tendancy to rise up and out of the harness, which can be an awkward thing to correct halfway up a face. This could possibly be sorted by tightening the waist cinches, but I don't like that. It's all individual, after all. The pockets, although very well sited on the jacket have, I've found, been a tad too small to use with thick winter gloves; the massive pockets on my North Face Point Five jacket are I better and more useful for storing easy-to-reach spares when on the mountain. The pockets are mesh, so they don't affect breathability very much at all. 

All of these negative points are relatively minor, however, and I still believe this is an excellent jacket.

Conclusions

Overall, I'd definitely recommend the Snaefell jacket. Whilst being more on the pricey end of the scale, you get a very solid all-rounder of a jacket which can be used for pretty much everything from running in the rain to winter mountaineering. The cut is good and fitted without being tight (for me) but I would definitely recommend trying on for size before you buy.

They are available in both mens and womens in a range of colours. Check them out on the 66° website.

Pros

+ Very breathable with semi-stretch to aid movement

+ Pocket positioning is excellent

+ Fantastic, semi-mobile, 3-point adjustable hood

Cons

- Cut is slightly too short - tends to rise when wearing a harness

- Pockets are a little too small to get gloved hands into

For more in the Gear Spotter range of reviews, check them out here

Adventures in Scotland: Day 5 - Number 3 Gully

Sorry for the late post guys, yesterday was pretty busy what with unpacking from our jaunt and repacking and checking and all the things you do when you leave a hotel.

So we had another crack at Ben Nevis today, after our abortive almost-summit on Monday. We decided to go for a proper north face route, attempting one of the numbered gullies (we eventually settled on No.3 gully). As we'd been hampered by time and my slowness on our last attempt, we decided to start even earlier, and we found ourselves at the start of the walk in for 7.40am. It seems my fitness has improved over the week, because we were up to the fork in the paths almost 20 minutes quicker than monday, which meant we had more time to play with on the face itself.

After making the long, laborious and somewhat scrambly walk along the north face access path we reached the CIC hut at the bottom of Ben Nevis' north face. The CIC hut is pretty much the start point for every route on the face. The Charles Ingis Clark memorial hut has been around since the late 1920s and has served as a home and base to many north face ascent parties over almost 100 years of continuous use. It is entirely self-sustaining and solidly built. You can stay there overnight - as we arrived a group of 5 climbers were leaving to return to home after a week in the hut. I was sort of jealous - at least they got a bit of a lie-in when climbing, no walk in for them...



Having taken a break and assessed what the snowpack felt like, me and Charlie geared up and headed out onto the approach slopes of the gullies. Initially progress was good; overnight rains and freezing temperatures had formed a thick, solid crust of snow that made progress in crampons quick and relatively easy. Every now and then Charlie would check back over his shoulder, double check I was okay and crack on - no hunched over my ice axe this time - I was feeling fit and the progress was good.

As we got higher, however, conditions worsened. The snowpack got thicker, more powdery and significantly less stable - even with crampons and axe I kept slipping and having to clamber out of knee-depth snow on a 45 degree slope. Charlie stopped about 30 meters ahead of me and I could tell he wasn't confident by the way he was prodding at the snow with his axe.

"I don't like it" he called over his shoulder, prompting me to quickly catch up to discuss with him.

"What don't you like?" I replied, settled below him on the slope.

He cast his gaze over towards the immediate approach to Number 3 gully "The snow is getting worse, conditions are getting worse. This is sketchy for me, so it'd be difficult for you. And if the snow is like this in the gully we are going to have no fun, and your lungs are going to fall out"

I immediately nodded; Charlie is the one with four seasons of mountaineering experience. It was his call. "Okay. Let's back off this thing then" I replied. He kept apologising for not being able to complete the route. Honestly, and as I told him, I didn't care - better retreat and stay alive than attempt a route, get stuck in conditions that were beyond my capabilities.

So, unfortunately our last day on the mountain and last attempt at the Ben for this trip was over; just a long walk back to packing up for our return drive home. I can't lie and say I'm not dissappointed we didn't summit, as I was feeling fit, strong and willing to go ahead. But there was literally nothing we could do about it. Maybe if we'd both had more experience we could have battled through, but I didn't want my ambitions to put either of us in danger.

Just means we'll have to return. I don't see that as a bad thing.

Adventures in Scotland: Day 5 - Ice Factor

Indoor climbing has always had several advantages over outdoors, especially when it comes to ice. Firstly, the condition of the ice is always guaranteed - you never have to bank on good weather for safe climbing. Secondly, they are easy to get to - the walk in is only ever a few feet from the car, rather than a two hour uphill slog. And lastly, you can source yourself a lovely hot chocolate to warm up when you take a break.

With that in mind, we decided that if we were going to get some actual winter climbing in on this trip, we should head over to the Ice Factor National Ice Climbing Center in Kinlochleven for a try on their indoor ice climbing walls. The walls are graded from Scottish winter III to VII, so everything is technically beyond what I've climbed so far, but in some ways pure ice is easier than mixed climbing - you can properly sink the axes, not hold the points on narrow, iffy rock holds!

We had a bloody early start this morning - because of my lack of bolt-tightening abilities we had to make a trip in the dark to Jewsons to source some temporary replacements for the last couple of days of our trip. Not suprised to say, Charlie wasn't hugely impressed and I was left with death-glares until breakfast. I've ordered an official DMM replacement set, but I need something to keep me going, so Jewsons it was.

Anyway, the Ice Factor is bloody good fun - there are both rock climbing areas and an ice room, which we had all to ourselves for the few hours we were there for the measly sum of £25 each. We kicked off with some easier stuff, then steadily moved harder and harder - the routes didn't seem to be graded as we were used to, but I reckon that I completed at least one Scottish IV and Charlie a V or VI. They were made easier by the fact they were all top-roped, but still. It's something. We made some good shapes and had a lot of fun as we did so.

Climbing on pure ice was fun, and required a different kind of thinking - axe placements aren't necessarily as bombproof as you'd like, as I found out to my cost when my adze blew out and smacked me in the nose, leaving me dazed and smarting, and Charlie cracking up with laughter as he lowered me down. It's a little bit more think-y than mixed climbing, but it some ways it's nicer than rock climbing because every foothold is solid and every handhold is a massive jug, so it's easier to hold on. It does pump your forearms quite quickly though, with some of the longer routes giving you a bit of numbness.

We had a bit of fun with the cameras taking some video, so I should be able to put up some interesting stuff when I get back and my internet connection is a little faster. It's not movie-quality stuff but it's still fun to look at.

Anyway, today was a bit of fun and a confidence boost for tomorrow - it's our last day in Scotland and we're looking to go out with a bit of a bang and summit Ben Nevis via an actual north face route. We need to complete something whilst we're here...

Adventures in Scotland: Day 4 - I'm an idiot

Only a short one today.

It's our (well-earned) day off, so we had a lie in, a hearty breakfast and shot into Fort William with the single-minded task of sourcing Charlie the brightest, lariest pair of softshell trousers possible. Now, before I go on I must say that Fort William is quite probably the most depressing place in the world. It's uniformly grey, there's absolutely no colour and it's just...bleak. The kind of place you get into and out of as quickly as possible. The place doesn't even have a coffee shop, to Charlie's extreme dismay.

We didn't get lairy softshells, but Charlie did get a rather loud Haglofs midlayer, which he was very pleased about. He hasn't yet shut up about it.

We got back to the B&B, and after planning our final climb on Friday (conditions being good, we're looking to do No.3 Gully on the north face of Ben Nevis) and started to sort our kit out. I went to file down the pick on my ice axe when I discovered that one of the bolts that hold the pick to the handle had...gone. Fallen out at some point, probably from being under-tightened. So bugger.

Thankfully it's not the crux bolt, so in an emergency I could climb on it, but I really don't want to be climbing up No.3 gully with a wobbly ice axe pick. It's hard enough without worrying about the positioning of a specific axe. So tomorrow morning, before we go for a spot of indoor pure ice climbing at the National Ice Climbing Center, we're headed to Jewsons to pick up a pack of bolts. It's odd how rare stubby M8 bolts seem to be in Scotland. I've got to buy a pack of 100 bolts, to replace one for a short period. Got to love this economy.



Bugger.



(The Adventures in Scotland series is a collection of all my posts from my first foray into winter mountaineering. Find all the others here)

Adventures in Scotland: Day 3 - Curved Ridge (again)

Another day, another mountain. The previously planned day off after our attempt on Ben Nevis went by the wayside thanks to a friendly little weather forecast; having popped into the pub for a meal and talking to the barmaid, we checked out an accurate forecast which told us Wednesday would be awful, but Tuesday would be clear and dry. So the decision was made for us.

As we'd been held up by my slowness on Sunday, we decided to have another crack at Curved Ridge on Buachaille Etive Mor and actually summit this time. We set out far earlier, catching breakfast at our B&B and getting onto the walk-in for 9am just as the sun came up, in near-whiteout conditions with low lying fog blocking out the mountains, but undaunted we set off.








Eventually we reached the start of the route, after some fun but sometimes sketchy crampon-less front pointing and losing sight of Charlie (and the ascent route) several times. At about the same height (but further across) as we finished on Sunday, we started actually climbing the route, with Charlie leading the first pitch up and over the ridge. After he got safe I followed. The route was really good fun; not overly technical but challenging for someone new to mixed climbing. There was very little ice or decent snow, so most of the time my ice axe picks and crampon points were teetering on very thin rock seams or torqued into little cracks. I did have one fall, though - a bit of a swinger as I finished removing gear from the wall. My precariously positioned crampon points slipped off their hold and my only placed axe blew under the pressure. It was a bit of a tumble, and I ended up horizontal, facing the wrong way but it wasn't all bad; the line it put me on was a far easier climb, and after burying my axes in some frozen turf I hauled myself up to Charlie's belay position.

We quickly changed over gear and I belayed him on the next pitch. However, as he went up, he realised that the rest of the ridge was poor quality snow and difficult climbing - even the gully that followed next to the ridgeline was full of slushy, partially melted snow and as such was a no-go. After a bit of a discussion we decided it was best if we just cut our losses and descended. Charlie directed that instead of down-climbing the pitch we'd just ascended, we'd traverse around to the snow field we'd played on during Sunday's practice.

Despite being disappointed that we didn't complete the route, we were pleased with our maturity in making the decision to descend (the right one apparently - as we drove away an hour later the entire north face was blanketed in thick cloud) at the right time and the competence we'd both shown in both ascent, traverse and descent was a solid achievement.

Now Wednesday will definitely be a day off. We're going to go into Fort William and spend money on things we don't need. That's the best fun you can have on holiday, isn't it?





(The Adventures in Scotland series is a collection of all my posts from my first foray into winter mountaineering. Find all the others here)

Adventures in Scotland: Day 2 - The Ben

Holy mother of god. Scotland is cold. Mountaineering is hard. My body hurts.

Today's target was to summit Ben Nevis via one of the north face routes, doing some proper climbing and not using the tourist track that winds its way up the easier south face. Although it's called the tourist track, it's still quite an undertaking - especially in winter. Our walk-in from the Glen Nevis Youth Hostel took us on the bottom section of the path, and it's long and sloggy and thigh-testing. We got going at around 8.20 in the morning, just as the sky was brightening - a proper alpine start. Despite the early hour and the cold weather I stripped down to my baselayer on the walk in - it was such hard work that I was sweating enough for water to be freezing on the surface of my shirt. Gross, eh?

Our route however would take us up the north face, so instead of going up we followed the smaller path around, slowly dropping into the freezing line and feeling the reason why the north face is regarded as the harder of most north-hemisphere mountains because the weather sucks. It's windy, it's blowy, it's snowy and it's raining - the reason why over thousands of years the north face has been turned into a vertical, rocky wall whereas the south is a very long, very hard hill. This weather would end up scuppering our initial plans - when we got around to seeing it, the north face looked covered in windslab and about ready to avalanche in places - you could almost feel the tension of the snow on the face, just waiting for the magic amount of vibration or snow to fall for it to go. So, we decided on going up the slightly less vertical west face, summiting the smaller mountain at the edge of the Nevis range and then walking across the plateau, heading up to the summit, topping out and heading back down the tourist path. It shouldn't take anything more than a few hours and we could be home and dry before darkness closed in at around 4 in the afternoon.

However, I am fat, unfit and with little practice in the use of crampons in the ascent over long periods - so I was awful. My technique was off, I had absolutely no energy and my legs started cramping up in muscles that weren't used to being used. It was painful, it was sloggy and I was extremely slow - which (understandably) pissed Charlie off no end. I'd take between 3 and 15 steps and then be out of breath or cramping up and have to stop, and as we were roped together, so did Charlie. If it'd been me I'd probably have untied and just left or retreated off, but being the bloke he is Charlie kept going, kept yelling abuse at me and eventually we got up to Carn Dearg (1,221m) after around 3 hours of climbing, which in reality is far too long. We were only around 100m below the summit of Ben Nevis though, so there wasn't much more slogging left to do before we could summit.

At the stop I took on a massive amount of liquid and forced some food into my body despite my total lack of appetite and eventually felt a bit better and we trudged up towards the summit of Ben Nevis. We were extremely lucky with the weather - absolutely clear skies and bright sunshine greeted us on the plateau, something Charlie (who has summited the Ben 4 or 5 times) has only seen once before. It was truly beautiful, especially with the view out over the south face of all of the snow-capped peaks and the clear valleys. It felt very special. However, as we started to walk towards the summit we watched dark clouds descend and obscure the summit ridge and we decided it would be mature, prudent and the right thing to back off from the summit bid and descend.

On our butts.

It's the best way to get down a mountain.

Not an overly brilliant day as I was, to put it mildly, shit, but we eventually got something done and we realised I really, really need to work on my endurance and leg strength. Hard work paid off with some beautiful views and cracking weather, although it kind of smarts that if I'd been fitter and faster we probably could have made the summit before the weather turned, but I couldn't have physically given any more - I was exhausted. It's a day off tomorrow, so I should be able to get a good meal in me tonight, a good rest and use the pain and suffering I went through today to improve my fitness over the next few days. Let's hope so anyway.

Here's some other photos too:

(The Adventures in Scotland series is a collection of all my posts from my first foray into winter mountaineering. Find all the others here)

Adventures in Scotland: Day 1 - Buachaille Etive Mor

It's been coming for some time, it's been planned, everything had been bought and now finally, after all that, it is winter and I am in the Highlands.

Today is a good day.

We arrived last night at about 6 having driven past the snowy highlands in absolutely beautifully bright moonlight and clear skies, and got set up in our (frankly for the price, palatial) B&B and got a good night's sleep. This morning, it was up at 7.45, a full cooked breakfast and then to the mountains (with a quick detour to Kinlochlaven to get me some crampons).

As today was my first day out on snowy hills, we decided to take it easy and do a simple route on a mountain we'd seen on the way in the night before. It wouldn't be too taxing - conditions aren't perfect but they are far from truly awful - but it would give me a chance to get some solid practice in on a proper ascent and a summit on my first day. We didn't get onto the mountain proper until around 11am, which we would later work out was far too late.

As it turned out it wasn't quite like that, with my inexperience, complete lack of technique and initial lack of fitness and confidence slowing us down quite significantly. One section on the walk-in was rather sketchy and after vainly scrambling on verglassed rock and frozen turf, experiencing a couple of slips and being absolutely 100% convinced I was about to die I grabbed out my ice axes and hauled myself up. Trapsing up to where Charlie was waiting I was met with a little bit of abuse, which to be honest I probably deserved, but it was time to do some proper winter stuff. Now it was onto the first snow field on out chosen route (Curved Ridge, for those wondering), a wide vertical band of snow maybe 150 meters from bottom to top, where we donned crampons and had some practice at self-arrests, ascending, descending and traversing with crampons and ice axe technique.




After all that and having climbed the height of the snow field, we decided that the delay we'd experienced would prevent us from summiting and descending safely before last light. As such, we said we'd do a single pitch route then descend and head home. The route itself wasn't taxing, but climbing with axes and crampons is a new experience, and it was initally a bit uncomfortable using tools on bare rock, but we eventually made it to the top for pasties and a glug or two of hot ribena. Then it was an abseil back down the route which unfortunately a little bit short, necessitating some incredibly sketchy down climbing. After that it was a front-pointing escent of the snow field, crampons off, down the footpath and home for hot ribena and dark chocolate hobnobs.

Looks like we're headed for the Ben tomorrow.

Keen.

Glorious.

(The Adventures in Scotland series is a collection of all my posts from my first foray into winter mountaineering. Find all the others here)