Scotland '15: Two's company, three's a climbing party

Sorry this is up a day late - Friday was a late one for us, and Saturday has been a total write off! At least our hit rate is higher than last year's 4 withdrawals for 4 attempts...

Thursday was our day off - a well deserved and earned rest after two big days in the hills. We took it chill, picked up a couple of bits and bobs in Fort William and generally just relaxed. A stroke of luck hit us, however, for as Charlie went downstairs for his evening rollup, he ran into a friend from work lugging a pack into the B&B who, as it turned out, was taking a long weekend to go climbing in the Western Highlands.

I got to meet him the next morning, and after discussing the weather and the conditions he suggested we headed for a west-facing crag known as Beinn Udlaidh. The plan was to take the drive and walk in, and then see what was in condition, then head up or back off. Now, if you follow me on social media (and if you don't, you really should) you'll know that originally we'd planned to re-do Ruth on Aonach Mor and do a ski/bum-slide descent to the Nevis Range center. I don't know about Charlie but the idea of doing a new route, somewhere interesting and out of the range and of a different kind to what we'd done before was too good to pass up, so that ski descent will have to wait for another day.

Our view of Bienn Udlaidh as we came out of the tree line...

We took Ed's car (a much roomier vehicle when compared to Charlie's Mini) and made the 45-minute journey in about 40 minutes. After sorting gear out and slinging on packs we started the walk in - after being accosted by some very curious pigs - from well below the snow line. I'll admit here and now that I'm pretty unfit, or at least not as fit as I'd like to be and Charlie always seems to steam off in front of me and I plod along behind. But now this time we had Ed, who shares my lack of speed (though he's far fitter than me) so for once I had people to talk to for much of the walk in! Even so it was kind of soul-sapping, a constantly winding and climbing forest track with the next slope hidden by a corner, so by the time we topped out onto the plateau below the face my thighs were burning and I was sweating despite only wearing a base layer and shell.

...and our view about 10 minutes later of the same face.

We could see the face ahead of us - or rather the bottom shelf of the face, the rest covered by a thick, Sunshine Gully, an absolutely classic Grade III gully line.
low lying cloud. We still had to get to the bottom of it to see if it was in condition. I really hoped it was, I didn't want to get there then have to turn back because the mountain was in terrible condition. The approach walk was a bit of a slog - the entire plateau was crisscrossed with streams and little ditches hidden by an even layer of snow, so a lot of time was spent digging either myself or Charlie from waist-deep snow drifts. Eventually though we got to a safe bowl where we could gear up and have a hot wet. Once we had crampons and harnesses on and were tied into our ropes (Ed leading with both, Charlie on the pink and myself on the blue) we set off to the bottom of our route -

Charlie being fully attentive in belaying Ed on the first pitch of
Sunshine Gully

Ed led out the first pitch, with Charlie belaying and me milling about trying to look like I knew what I was doing. There was a bit of waiting around as Ed reached, then established his belay, brought up Charlie and only then was I brought up. This was repeated again for the second and third pitches (with a moment to sort out some very messy ropes on a slightly exposed second pitch belay) and soon we were all safely tied in to the belay at the bottom of the fourth (and final) pitch.

Me being brought up the second pitch, thankful to be moving

Charlie was to lead the final pitch, the only pitch with ice and turf to make it an actual mixed route rather than a simple snow climb. Unfortunately we weren't working in the greatest conditions - pictures of Sunshine Gully from other times and years shows a fourth pitch absolutely caked in beautiful blue water ice that clings like limpets to the rock. What Charlie faced on his lead was very thin, flaky ice that instead of accepting axe points and holding, was instead coming away in sheets and obscuring any irregularities in the rock that could be used to hook a crampon or axe point on to allow a move to be made. As such, he was very slow and methodical and due to the total lack of availability, unprotected for much of the pitch aside from the belay below and accross from him. Had he fallen, he would have swung a long way and possibly even pulled me and/or Ed off our belay stance - as I stripped the belay before I came up I found the screw that formed half the protection was rattling in its hole and wasn't really doing anything much - very confidence inspiring.

Ed leading out on the third pitch, setting his belay at the bottom
of the ice section

Thankfully though he cleared the rock band and hooked over the left shoulder of the gully, using the
well-frozen turf to great effect as he approached the last difficult section - the corner. Now, when I got to the corner as I followed Charlie's route up I was intimidated but I had a rope above me and Charlie in a bomb-proof belay stance that I knew I could totally rely on if I fell. Charlie had none of these, and yet managed to negotiate awful ice bulges and a total lack of real axe placements to get up and over the last real section of the climb. I managed it by burying my axes in the turf above the corner and levering myself around until I had a reasonable scramble up. It wasn't fun. Can't imagine what Charlie was thinking with nothing above him and nought but a shaky nut placed horizontally in line with him. To say 'a bit concerned' would probably be a gross understatement.

Charlie leading the final pitch - see how thin all the ice is, you
can see rock through it!

With the time taken to climb the pitch, then locate the belay and build it and bring up Ed, by the time I set off I'd been stood in the belay stance for an hour and a quarter, so I was very thankful to be moving. I scored lucky on the first difficult move: experimentally scraping my axe down the ice on the rock I found a solid nubbin I could hang my weight on which allowed me to lever myself up and over the ledge with relative ease. As I neared the corner I steeled myself and it took a bit of joshing myself up to get me to commit to the moves (made more difficult as my left hand had gone numb from cold) but eventually I was up and over and passed Charlie to drag the rope up to where Ed had got safe and was now donning a warm jacket and taking on board food and liquid. I pulled the rest of my rope up behind me and welcome Charlie with a well-deserved high five as we all took in the beautiful surroundings we were faced with at the summit - almost totally cloud free we could see for miles, the beautiful visage of Scottish winter around us.

Our summit selfie atop Beinn Udlaidh in remarkably clear
conditions

We sorted gear, took a cheeky summit selfie before heading back down the flank of the face in an effort to beat the storm clouds we could see coming from the South. As we retreated we encountered what I would describe as our first good condition - well packed snow that held our weight rather than collapsing underneath it and allowed for swift progress. We got down to the car in about an hour, after falling in snow a bit more, comparing Ed to Legolas (for his seeming ability to pass over shaky snow without trouble) and then a Polar Bear (when he fell into the snow and flailed around on his front as he struggled to stand) and me catching my trousers so well with my crampons I ripped a hole in the crampon-proof instep of my trousers. They were brand new, too.


So that's that. Three attempted routes, three successful climbs. Pretty good record for us.

Scotland '15: The Journey That Almost Never Was

So we've made it. I'm sat writing this blog in our B&B (in fact in the same room as last year!), with the rain hammering at the window. Oh yeah, it's awful up here.

We decided to take an overnight drive up this year to avoid traffic and give us an extra day up in Scotland. The plan was to leave between 8 and 9, take our leisurely time and arrive about 10 in the morning for check in. In the end what we had was a proper journey from hell. Between having to deal with an angry Irish woman in a petrol station on the Edgewere Road to driving down the snowiest road either Charlie or I had ever seen in a zero-visibility blizzard and the Burger King in every service station we pulled into being closed. It was terrible.

The roads the morning after we drove in. This is orders of magnitude better to what
we had on the way in.

We ended up bashing it out in under 11 hours, and being incredibly early. We took a drive over to Fort William for breakfast, but pretty much as soon as we pulled into Morrison's car park we both passed out for an hour, in less than comfortable positions that left us with what feel like permanent cricks in both our necks. But we got McDonald's breakfast afterwards, so there's always a silver lining.

To be fair, 11 hours straight would do this to anyone

Anyway, here we are now. Conditions are terrible so we're just keeping it chill until tomorrow morning, although we did get the terrible news that the pub over the road has closed, so our normal drinking/eating haunt has gone. And that's the worst news.

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

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.

Wales, again! Tryfan and Crib Goch

Impromptu weekend away in Wales? Oh yes please!

This isn't going to be a long one, I'm somewhat busy at the moment, but here it is!

The beautiful view of the Ogwyn Valley from about halfway up the North East face of Tryfan

Tryfan
After enjoying a lovely full cooked breakfast at the YHA, me and Charlie set off in the car for the rolling green-and-grey of the Ogwyn Valley, and specifically Tryfan and the Glyder Fach ridge. Initially we started up the North Face path, which if I'm honest was sloggy, steep and painful with our 15-20kg loads. I was slow and extremely tired, slightly annoyed at my own lack of fitness (especially since I've spent so much time in the gym recently...) which meant Charlie kept having to stop to wait for me. Eventually, after about a kilometer on the flat and 150m of elevation change, we moved into the fun bit of the day: Scrambling.

Charlie showing the world how it's done

Now, for those of you that don't know, Scrambling is something of a halfway point between pure rock climbing and walking. The terrain is more of a collection of small boulders with decent hand and foot holds than a flat rock face, and is relatively easy to ascend with the correct gear - you don't even really need ropes or protection unless you move onto really exposed stuff. It was my first taste of pure, graded scrambling (although we didn't follow a specific 'route'...Tryfan doesn't really have any) and if I'm honest it's damn fun. Yes there were some bits that were rather committing, and more than once I was thankful for the almost physics-bending grip and stiffness of my Mammut Monolith B2 boots, and I was slow and the weight and size of my rucksack made some of it rather sketchy but it was absolutely awesome to play mountaineer and actually climb a mountain.



After a slightly embarrassing event involving a dropped piece of tent, we made the summit both taking the time to jump Adam and Eve, the two crowning rocks on Tryfan's summit, and then set on the descent back down towards the Far South Peak and Glyder Fach. Originally the plan had been to climb up to the summit of Glyder Fach, then descend  towards Llyn Bochlwyd where we would set up camp. However, when we got down to Bwlch Tryfan, the mini-valley between the two peaks, we decided we were too lazy, too cold and the car was far too close to really justify staying out. So we made the executive decision to go back into Llanberis, find somewhere to sleep, grab a pint and some food and enjoy a comfortable night.

Crossing the complex of fords on the descent from
Tryfan, in blowing wind. Sketchy.

Charlie on Adam & Eve. We were the only people out of
around 20 at the summit to do it. Frankly I was dissappointed.

In the end, after the YHA we'd stayed in on Friday night confirmed they were full, we found a home in Pete's Eats. Anyone familiar with Llanberis over the past three decades will be familiar with Pete's, on the Llanberis high street. Theirs is a nirvana for tired, hungry climbers and walkers - free wifi, free charging, massive plates of food and (if you need it) a cheap, comfy bed for the night or even the simple pleasure of a hot shower. Honestly can't recommend them enough, and will even go as far as to give them a shout out here; if you ever need anything in Llanberis (even if it's just advice on a good route to take), they'll help you out. Find them at: www.petes-eats.co.uk


Crib Goch
Sunday was going to be shorter - we had a 6 hour drive home ahead of us, so instead of doing a massive loop, we decided to take on the infamous ridgeline of Crib Goch.

After another long slog of a walk-in, exhausting and sweaty in heavy mountain boots and windproofs we made it over the granny stopper at the bottom of the route, and I headed off to break my Crib virginity.The scrambling was technical and relentless, although the shedding of 90% of the weight from our packs certainly helped to make the moves easier. We weren't alone on the ridgeline, but it did somewhat concern the pair of us the quality and suitability of the kit and expertise of the groups we met. Whilst you may be able to do the Crib in sturdy trainers and a light jacket in a dry, clear summer's day, but on a windy, cold and damp November afternoon it's downright dangerous.

Unfortunately the ridgeline of Crib Goch itself doesn't really lend itself to intense conversation, so I was left alone for a lot of the time, but I've found that it's quite nice. Just being alone with the conditions, the mountain and your own thoughts is a beautiful thing. Every now and then I'd catch up with Charlie, we'd enjoy a cup of tea and then set back off along the seemingly never-ending ridge. We'd be held up now and then as we negotiated an overtake over another group, but mainly for me was just the faint, yellow bobbing shape at the edge of my vision and a uniformly grey skybox. The cloud was low and the conditions were windy and cold (but thankfully largely dry) so there wasn't a huge amount to see, but it was fun, committing and technical. There isn't really much else to say really, the pictures do that for me!

(I'm still waiting for Charlie to send me the pictures from Day 2, as my phone had died. Pester him for me, would you? There's a good reader.)

We decided to not do the Snowdon summit; it's something we've both done before and we were hardly going to see anything special, so it was time for the long (but rather quick, it seemed) decent down the miner's path to the car, a well-deserved bottle of lucozade and the long slog home, to the realities of life.

It's always sad to leave the mountains, but it just means I'll have to go back for more. And soon.

Now all I have to look forward to is a Scottish winter. Oh wait...that's going to be amazing. Psyched!

Froggatt 2: The Return (Part Eins)

So finally I have returned to the crag. For a weekend no more sweating it out in an overly-warm climbing gym, clipping into pre-placed quickdraws - it's time to rack up and get ready to place some gear, folks.

OK, so I'm writing this well after the event, but I'm a busy man y'know!

This return to Froggatt has been planned pretty much from the time we went there last, what with so many routes un-tested and some real classics missed out on. The main reason we missed them was due to a severe lack of a handbook - we were really just guessing at routes, climbing what we could see (which, if you think about it, is the same kind of climbing as Froggatt's pioneers). Another issue the last time was that unfortunately, due to circumstances, Charlie had to lead-hog. It was my first time on the rock and no one was about to let me lead on the rock - it's so much different to leading indoors they may as well be different worlds!

This time the group was larger; in addition to me and Charlie we had Tom (a previous appearer on this blog) and Camilla, one of Tom's friends for whom Froggatt was only the third time she had climbed - ever! All other things aside it takes courage to be attempting seconding and abseiling on only your third go out with ropes and harness!

Fun in the Sun(set Slab)

Super-Ultra-Fun stuff!

Our arrival at the rock face proper was not a leisurely descent to set up a couple of top-ropes; no, it was for some reason we decided to build an abseil. Hey, no protests here, I think they are awesome. I gave Charlie a hand setting it up just the same as a top-rope, then got Cam to go down for her first abseil - as expected she was a little shaky but seemed to enjoy it. Once everyone else was down (including Tom who is by no means the world's biggest fan of abseils) I had to make my way down. As I was last man down I had the fun experience of abseiling fully loaded with a 15kg pack. It may not sound like much but it's a significant shift of your center of gravity!

Once down we decided to leave the rope in place and use it to climb the very convenient Sunset Crack as a warmup. First time up I made a little bit of a fool of myself, getting caught in sections I really shouldn't be struggling over, but on my repeat soon after I did the entire thing cleanly and smoothly in a shade over a minute. With everyone warmed up it was time to head on to the main focus of the four-hour journey to get there: leading.

Charlie wedging his way up the oversized crack of North Climb 

With the warm up out of the way, Charlie and Tom decided they wanted a crack at a relatively easy lead to North Climb, just to the right of the famous Fatal Attraction and the infamous Science Friction. It's a route me and Charlie did last time we were there, but then we'd top-roped it; I had used it as my first practice 'lead' with the safety line of a top rope. It was largely an uneventful climb, well made by both leader and follower, but the exciting part was to come.
blow out their respective cobwebs;



Tom somehow got it into his head on an abseil down the face of Fatal Attraction that it would be a doable climb, so on a top-rope they attempted it; neither got much closer to the top-out than about six feet. On my attempt I barely got six feet off the ground - it's a seriously difficult climb, well deserving of the E3 grade it's been given. Embarrassingly Camilla got far further than me, but in her defence she's small and strong - my power-to-weight is far, far worse!

On the Terrace

Charlie attempting the 5a to the right of Terrace Crack

After a bite to eat and the promised black weather stayed off, we decided to do a  reapeat of mine and Charlie's favourite route the last time we were there; the slabby, think-y Terrace Crack. Although only a HVS in the guide, it's a very enjoyable climb with a confidence-pushing few moves that puts you out over an overhang into nothingness. As before it was a cracking climb - I seconded again, as I did last time, but in much more pleasant conditions than May, which left me feeling like a much better overall experience.

Camilla just before the overhang on
Terrace Crack

Tom and Camilla also got a climb on the same route, but on her follow Camilla unfortunately suffered her first proper Crag Attack, freezing halfway up the climb and being unable to continue. It wasn't neither way on a rock face. It was quite a sobering experience, especially as me and Charlie discussed the possibility of having to build an abseil to attempt a rescue.
that she couldn't do it, more that she couldn't bring herself - the big, outward-pushing overhang at the start of the route sapped all her confidence. It's the first time I've seen a proper panic attack on a rock face - I've had my fair share of freezes and retreats, but I've never been able to go






Like and Ibex, Like an Ibex

The committing first move on Heather Wall
(image courtesy of Karabiner Climbing Club)

Having rescued Camilla from her freeze, we moved on. It was starting to get towards the end of the day, and possibly in hindsight we had been riding a wave of luck in that there had been no falls, none of the promised rain and no real problems on any of the climbs. Not ones that had put anyone at risk, that is. However, pumped and psyched as we were we decided to have a crack at the rather easy Heather Wall and use it as my first lead. Geared up and prepped, the start was, honestly, inauspicious; it was only when I was on the wall that I discovered that the first big move is in fact a 5a - harder than anything I have climbed outdoors. With that over and done with, all that was left was for me to climb the wide protected crack that forms the route. However, with maybe eight meters of the wall left, the heavens opened and the stone turned from warm, welcoming and grippy into a wet, frictionless slab that may as well have been polished concrete for all the grip it gave me.

Not being able to safely continue up and not wanting to leave gear in the wall, I now had to very slowly and carefully down-climb the sodden crack, jamming hands and feet and even suffering a couple of minor falls. Despite my relative terror and absolute certainty that I was about to fall and break a limb when I took out my last protection, Charlie, Tom and Camilla kept spirits up by abusing me in various badly-done foriegn accents, including an absolutely classic Russian/Spanish singsong that ended in the famous phrase "Like an Ibex".

With their support I got down, heart in hand and instantly stated that I was done for the day; I now needed to get into warm gear, get down to the pub and have some warm food. Still riding the adrenaline high I enjoyed some fish and chips, before returning to set up the tents on a rather precarious but atmospheric ledge. It was time to sleep to be ready for another day on the face.

Sympathetic is not a word Charlie identifies with