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.

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.

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.

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)

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

Adventures across a big sea

As many of you may know, I recently took a trip to the USA; the exact reason for the trip I am unable to talk about due to matters of 'national security' (how cool is that I can actually say that legitimately) however during my time off there I got around a few places, many of which were actually a lot of fun and totally relevant to this blog!


Devil's Tower

Now, Devil's Tower in South Dakota is a rare sight to behold. A solid spire of granite rising 1,250ft into the air. I really would try and convey just how tall and awe-inspiring this thing is, but in truth you'd have to see it to believe it. Legends say it was created when some children were saved from a massive demon-bear but whatever did create it certainly left its mark on the landscape.

It's certainly striking...

Up close it's an absolutely crazy prospect; we saw climbers
up it when we arrived but midday heat was too much

Unfortunately, despite incredibly inviting routes and some awesome weather, I had not the gear nor the partner in order to make a decent ascent; not that I think I'd like to at this stage. It's a thousand feet of gruelling multi-pitch climbing without a huge amount of space for protection and even less areas to rest. A climb to the top would certainly be intense!

The Southern side was a bit more forgiving, but not
much further up here the handholds dissappear

There is, however, a nature trail surrounding the tower which is still rather rocky, hilly and appropriately raised above the surrounding landscape to provide some amazing vistas.

Custer State Park

The main nature reserve in South Dakota, Custer State Park is a beautiful bit of the world. Not a huge amount of climbing that goes on there, but me and Bailey made a decent enough fist of it with what we had and tried a bit of scrambling over lakeside boulder formations. The thing that stuck with me the most in the state park was actually the surrounding mountainsides; whilst not being quite as impressive as the snow-capped French Alps or the Appalachians, they had a stark beauty and a unique draw all of their own - no crampons and ice axes for ascents of these; it would be down to shredded palms and skills in the legs.

Bailey makes an excellent job of scrambling up lakeside rock

Unfortunately not very much else on the trip was hugely exciting from an outdoorsy point of view...I ate a lot of food, put on some weight, had some fun and became a redneck for a few days. All in all a good trip though!

I do really apologise for the lack of Climbing-related stuff on the blog so far, but I promise this will change!

Until next time readers (soon)!

Froggart - Fun in high places!

I've finally become a proper climber. Having climbed a fair amount indoors since I started this lark back in January, I can now lay claim to having climbed a real rock face. And by god strike me down if it isn't shit-tons more fun.

The oppourtunity was through work and involved me and Charlie meeting some of the senior buying team and giving them an insight into exactly what we can do. There's been talk of getting more staff from the shop floor involved in testing new kit, which is fun and would be good for business, I suppose. To be honest this side of the weekend was of minimal importance to me, and they were gone by lunchtime on Saturday - I was there to climb things, and anything that took time away from that was very low on the ol' priority list.

The weekend started badly with me having my phone stolen in Baker Street station, which in turn caused me to be rather late to meeting Charlie as I'd forgotten exactly where he lived and was forced to wander around Royal Oak for about 45 minutes desperately trying to find something I recognised. Soon after I found him and gave my heartfelt apologies we were on the road towards Sheffield, the soft tones of Radio 4 driving us on our way. Despite leaving late we were in the village of Froggart by about 10am and after parking up the car and donning our kit, we headed for the rock.

The walk in itself was simple but somewhat dull - half an hour took us to the edge of Sunset Slab and the really meaty walls in Froggarts Edge. We'd decided to start the day off with some simple top-roping before cracking on with lead/follow climbing. We had already discussed what I'd be doing this weekend and had both decided that it was probably a little early to get me leading on my first time on the rock - placing protection

Our first top-rope, built and awaiting conquering heroes.
Or me and Charlie. Either.

The first thing we did was, as I mentioned, to set up a top rope. Froggart's Edge isn't a sport-climbing area and therefore there is no protection built into the walls - everything has to be done using nuts, hexes, cams and ropes - and that includes setting up a top-rope. I won't bore you with an in-depth description of the process (partly because I know this blog is going to ramble on quite a bit...) but it involves placing two or more items of protection, equalising the load of a rope between them, tying a bight and throwing the actual climbing rope (attached to the top-rope) off the top with surprising violence and much yelling.


My first climb on the rock was...interesting. It takes a lot of trust to put your faith in climbing shoes on rock that isn't totally 100% dry and warm - my background is partly motor racing, where the best grip is achieved when rubber is hot and sticky. This definately was not what was going on in Forggart in May. Despite this, the gritstone in the Peak District is extremely grippy, even when damp, and I made it up and down no dramas. Charlie did likewise and as the sun began to sneak through the clouds, we decided it was time to start with the lead climbing. But first we had to take apart our top-rope and - crucially - me to try my first ever solo abseil.

Now abseiling is a key technique, especially for mountaineers - the quickest way down a mountain is to set up a series of abseils and shoot down 30 meters at a time. Descending this way means a mountain that might have taken 2 days to climb can be descended in maybe 6 hours. But I'd never done it before - at least not properly. I'd done guided abseils, but now I had to learn how to do it the ropes-and-harness way - with nothing but a belay plat and prussik loop keeping me alive. It turned out absolutely fine, and indeed is now my favourite method to get down things. Charlie took a video of my first attempt, and I'll try to get it up here as soon as I can!

Charlie leading a route on the first day. Lacking a guide book
we christened it 'Charlie's Crack'. Many guffaws ensued.

To be very honest, with the rest of the weekend we climbed so many walls so many different ways that it's a struggle to pick them apart. We did maybe 10-15 routes over the weekend, in weather from the beautiful and sunny to the downright depressing. Some, like Terra's Edge were physically and technically challenging whereas some started easy and ended up as glorified walks. To sum up, the way we went about things this weekend was that charlie would lead the climb, placing protection and guiding the route and generally doing the majority of the hard work in a climb. He would then build a belay at the top and I would follow up on a top-rope, removing protection and following him up, what's known as 'clearing up the route'. The only time I led was on the last climb of the weekend, using a top-rope as a safety line so that Charlie could guide me and check my gear placement without any danger to myself. Thankfully all my gear placement was right on - next time out he won't have to be such a lead-hog, and I can get some practice with my own gear - I need to justify the money I'm spending on it all!

Our night was spent in a conveniently placed, yet somewhat exposed cave. I'll confess I didn't get the greatest night's sleep ever, with a frozen face and the nagging fear of being caught and told to trek back to the car but well enjoyable. Especially the bacon butties in the morning. A proper little outdoor excursion.

What became obvious as the weekend went on was how my confidence and ability shot up - no longer was I beaten as soon as I failed a move - I've found in me a strength of determination to always beat the route. I've found my competitive spirit in climbing, and to be extremely cheesy, the only way from here is up.

Also, enjoy some more pictures, courtesy of Charlie's pretty DSLR. Sorry the formatting is a little off, Blogger is rather restrictive. But the photos are pretty!

On the top rope, practicing with nuts,
cams and slings.

Our cave for the night - not especially sheltered from wind,
but absolutely bone dry. Kit ended up everywhere though,
somehow.

Me placing protection with the safety line of
the top-rope to keep me from doing myself a
 mischief.

Charlie getting his cook on in thecave that would later be my
bedroom. Spicy tomato pasta was the order of the day. It
 would win no awards.

See you all soon, I hope - and stay tuned. I'm hoping to run a little competition on here soon, so stay tuned and pay attention!

Froggart - Full post soon

Hey folks

Just a quickie to let you all know that I've just returned from my first ever outdoor climbing experience! An opportunity through work took me up to Froggart's Edge in Derbyshire.

Full blog will be up in the next couple of days, but I'll tell you this: The weather was varied, and rarely in a positive way, the climbing was incredibly fun and interesting and sometimes challenging and a lot was learned - both to do with climbing and not!

Anyway, as soon as I have it written up and the photos I'll get a full account online.

Have a good day folks!

Success, of sorts!

Short post today, but news: Today I beat Nemesis!

Okay, okay I didn't quite beat it properly - I'm still not quite strong enough in holds to manage clipping-in on the overhang, but after Charlie completed it as his warm up (totally not emasculating at all) I did it as a top-roper. Not in any way technically impressive or at all elegantly, but I beat it. Now just to build my strength, keep shedding the pounds until I can do it properly!

(We got some video of me doing the climb on Charlie's GoPro, I'll see if I can get my hands on it and upload it to here)

Also got some half-decent leading in which was positive, and completed a fair few walls. Today wasn't actually a hugely serious session and none of us left exhausted how we normally are, but we could also be getting stronger. Did help that we had a 3rd climber today in the shape of Bailey, which meant we weren't constantly up and down walls or belaying - we actually got some rest, which was nice. Also had a photographer, so pictures galore today!

Clipping in with a massive straight-arm hold

The ever-attentive Charlie Bangham, everyone

Trying some dynamism. Not all that dynamic...

Being lowered off, again with Charlie paying full
attention

As I mentioned, we also had Bailey with us today, and because she hasn't climbed in the past few weeks we were pushing her a little too hard in the beginning; we got her onto easier routes but she still lacked confidence and faith in the rope. In an effort to give her confidence I decided to do a demo of a proper fall and show her actually how good the kit is; if it can handle me, it can handle little old her no problem:

She didn't get the confidence boost I wanted to give her, but it was something, and it made for a cool video. At least she got climbing!

The smile is genuine; so is the fear in the eyes

P.S. Bailey has a fantastic blog all about her time in the UK - find it over at Tea 'n The Tower: Graduate Edition check it out!

Upwards...but mainly downwards

I got some climbing in today. It wasn't the best climbing I've ever done, in fact it was one of my worse days - I didn't actually finish any walls. Not even the relatively easy wall we used to kick the day off. I don't know quite why, but lets just chalk it up to an off day.

However, I'm not that put down because I didn't do a single route rated under 5+, and spent most of the day doing leads. After coming off our warm-up wall about 3/4 of the way up, we decided to have a go at 'Nemesis', the wall with a large overhang that we had both failed to top the previous week.
I had first shot at it and climbed well for the first section, and onto the first clip of the overhang. I made it up to the second clip, had the rope in hand, halfway through clipping in my grip slipped off the hold I had and I fell, and fell hard. I tried again, using the existing clips as a top-roper but my hand forearms were absolutely shot.

This sort of set the tone for the rest of the day's climbing.

Me attempting a 5+ lead climb. Small holds and jutting features
ensured I didn't get far

We tried a variety of routes, and ironically my best climb was on a 6 top-roper where I nailed my use of features as balance points when moving on the wall, but slowly my arm strength and ability to use crimpy holds really started to drag.

Bailey turned up a couple of hours into things and had a try on a couple of routes, which was good as it offered me and Charlie a chance to rest and coach her (she hasn't climbed for a few weeks). I'm still hoping she catches the bug and is able to do it more frequently but I'm letting her do it in her own time.

Charlie showing me how it's done. He only got 2
clips higher than me, though...

So all in all, not the best of days climbing, but we all have our off time. At least I got photos though.

Leading the way

NB: I haven't got any photos of today, but I should do next time I lead so I'll upload some then.

All has been pretty quiet on the vertical side of things recently, hence the lack of posts. Due to constraints with rowing and uni and work, I haven't really had time to do anything, so until today I hadn't done anything for almost two weeks! However, today training was cancelled and uni finished early so I gave Charlie a bell and we decided to climb, and make a day of it. So with my harness and my new rope (which is one of the most awkward things to carry on the Tube ever...) I made my way down to Westway.

Unfortunately I was somewhat held up by an annoying american tennis-playing couple who were trying to book 3 different courts on about 12 different days (lots of 'ooh, not the 24th, we have a thing that day...maybe the 26th?) but we got in, got harnessed up and tried a couple of top-roped routes to get my eye in and refresh un-used skills. One positive note of the time off: I've been doing a lot of weights, and climbing has gotten a lot easier in terms of the effort involved - I can now almost pull myself up one-handed, which makes life a little more fun and a little less painful, especially helpful when lead climbing when all my weight can be on a single hand hold.

After warming up, we decided to tackle my first ever lead wall. First thing we did was Charlie gave me a brief on the intricacies of belaying in lead climbing. It's quite a lot different to normal - the rope isn't kept taut constantly and it requires a whole load more attention and forward thinking to plan when the climber will need more slack, more space, where they may slip or fall and need arresting and how much rope they'll need to clip in. He had a quick shoot up to show me how its done - I didn't belay perfectly, causing him a little trouble a couple of times but he didn't die so I'll take that as a positive step. After he touched back down and we got me tied into the rope (which is my new 10.5mm, 60m behemoth, which Charlie says suits 'suits its owner as it's thick and unwieldy'. Always a charmer...) it was my turn to lead up the wall.

The route itself was a relatively simple 4+, but with the added challenge of thinking about constantly having to clip in made it a much more interesting climb. You don't just have to think about where you're going to put your hands and feet, but also where you're going to set yourself up to clip in, which hand you'll need free etc. The first few quickdraws I clipped in I did twisted, but once I had it cracked the rest went in clean, no problems. I did have one interesting section where I had to clip into a right-handed quickdraw whilst hanging off my right hand. Apparently I made some really odd shapes and Charlie panicked that I was going to fall, but all was well.

First climb went well, the second not quite so hot. It was a slightly more technical route involving two overhangs (one small, one larger) with some really awkward, crimpy holds. There were some nice big ones afterwards, almost like a reward for making it, but the last hold, the one I had to hang on to clip into the top pair of karabiners was an odd shape and my hand was sweating. I couldin't get my hand to my chalk bag as there was no left-hand hold, and as I hefted the rope to clip in I could feel myself slipping. Desperately I clung to the last hold, clipping in to one, then the second (reversed) karabiner. The instant I clipped into number two I lost my hold and fell, but thankfully not too far or too drastic and was brought down safe but a little shaken - if I'd missed the holds there would have been an extra two or three meters of fall to arrest!

The rest of the day was spent practising on easy-grade lead climbs, before eventually calling it off after two and a half hours of constant climbing, with aching forearms and painful fingertips but a sense of achievement from me at least.

I'll say this - it feels great having broken my duck of leading, I finally feel like I've actually accomplished something in my climbing, something tangible that I can measure my progress by  The challenge is a new one and it keeps everything fresh, both belaying on the ground and up on the wall. Leading is what I'll be having to do when I eventually get up onto a mountain, so learning the basics here is a really good stepping stone on to the technical stuff, when we start to introduce pitons, hammers and clipping in my own quickdraws.

All in all a good day!

Harness and Hands

Excellent news reader(s): today I got my very own climbing harness, and she's a thing of beauty!

I'll add a better photo when I get one of me actually using it...hands were too ruined today 

Isn't she pretty? Although my birthday isn't for a couple of weeks my parents gave me the money to go and get a harness and the assorted bits and bobs, so it's a nice little early birthday present for me. To be specific its a Petzl Corax, and it's a wonderfully clever fusion of an alpine/mountaineering and indoor wall climbing harness. The mountaineering elements are thinner padding, soft rear gear loops (to avoid fouling a pack) and fully detachable leg loops. As such it's not perfect in either environment but it makes a damn fine harness that'll do pretty much everything rather competently. It came with a free chalk bag which was nice, too.

I had the opportunity today to also try out this new harness for the first time; because he'd been trapped in Scotland on Monday having completed a winter skills course over the weekend, Charlie had to work on Tuesday (and therefore we hadn't climbed) so after rowing on Wednesday I popped off to Westway to see him, meet his normal climbing partner Tom and get some decent climbing in myself. This turned out to not be the best idea, as rowing can tire out your hands and forearms - parts of the body essential for climbing. By the time we were finished I could only form a claw and couldn't even begin to contemplate untying my knots.

My poor, claw-like, ruined hands. They still hurt now, hours afterwards.

All in all to be honest it wasn't my greatest day's climbing for me but I learned some valuable lessons and got some really good insight; whilst Charlie is experienced, Tom is the far better climber and a teacher to boot, and so is really good at imparting his accumulated wisdom. As I climbed he identified that I was getting tired far too quickly on the walls because I was essentially doing a series of chin ups up the wall. He took me to a slightly lower grade wall and taught me how to concentrate on technique of avoiding using my arms. It was somewhat confusing to begin with having to re-learn my way of climbing but it worked; I was able to do 3 consecutive walls without untying or pause.

I also got to have a close look at some lead climbing for the first time too - whilst it's not overly complicated as a way of ascending a wall, Charlie doesn't reckon I'm quite ready yet (an assessment I'd fully agree with after attempting the same wall but as a top-roper and falling off halfway up) so I've got a little bit of time to wait before I can lead myself. Although I'll confess I'm quite looking forward to it, because it looks like stupid amounts of fun. The only downside is the fact that generally the lead climbing walls are rated at 5+ and higher - at the moment the best wall I've climbed is a 5+ and that was with the security of a top rope. It could be interesting to push it harder...

As a small aside, whilst we were at the center we saw an ad for someone selling £350 worth of climbing gear for around £95. Charlie and Tom are attempting to build a full climbing rack between them so they want all the quickdraws, karabiners and loops, but have offered me a very lovely Mammut 60m rope for £30. That's around 15% of the price of a brand new rope. Yes please.

A small update

Well...nothing much has really happened since my last post. Which is dull.

It's all a bit quiet really. It's been a week of gathering advice from those with far more knowledge than I and consolidating what I already know.

We got a visit at work from one of the Mammut product instructors, and whilst waiting for everyone else to appear we had a bit of a talk. As you'd probably expect from someone who is employed by a company like that, he's heavily into his outdoors stuff and he recommended me some bits of kit that I could find useful, and also gave me a heads up on things one or two things to avoid taking or doing, like getting an asymetric bar for my crampons (when I get them) to fit the boots I bought more precisely and the value of a 12 point crampon over a 10 pointer. Which reminds me - I've bought my mountain boots! Mammut Monolith GoreTex B2 mountain boots to be exact. Very nice bits of kit indeed. I'll post a photo up when I get one, the sheer size of them (I'm a size 13) is a sight to behold! Absolutely solid bits of kit and I can't wait to unleash them on an unsuspecting mountain!

EDIT 08/02/2013 I got a picture of the boots in all their B2, size 13 goodness!

They are actually terrifying, or so my flatmate says.

I returned to the Westway center today and am now regarded as a 'competent climber', meaning I can climb unsupervised. All I had to do was demonstrate that I could don a harness, tie in with a double figure-eight knot and tie into a belay plate. All simple stuff but now I'm officially qualified to climb, supervise and lead-climb. Not that I consider myself quite ready yet, but nice to know I can when the time comes...

Had some fun with the UWSU climbing club and met some new guys I can train with now - due to a contract with the SU you don't actually have to be a member to climb with the club (but as I also climb with Charlie I am of course a member of Westway) but they only get an hour on the wall at one time. The team captain, Peter, has said he'll register next time so that he can come in other times and climb with me - excellent, someone else to train with!
An advantage of climbing with the SU club is that they have qualified instructors who lead the sessions who are vastly experienced and can offer tons of excellent advice. The guy I had today, whose name escapes me advised me to get as much wall time under my belt as I can before I go mountaineering to prepare me as much as possible for what might happen. Sound advice and I think I'll take it!

Finally, the issue of fitness is starting to rear its head, especially if I want to be ready by the summer. I currently weigh in at around about 112kg empty, and despite the fact I'm 6ft 2, I'm a lot bigger than I'd ideally like to be - the plan is to get to around 100kg by the end of May. It's going to mean a lot more pushing and some serious fitness work, but I think I can get there, and I'd need to do mountain-specific stuff anyway. Anyway, that's a subject for another day and another post when I have a few hours to work everything out.

Might make these small updates a weekly thing - summarise all the little stuff that happens during the week that doesn't need it's own post. Or even just rambling on random subjects if I'm feeling bored.

Stay tuned folks!

Rope Work

Hey everyone, good things happened today: I finally started training!

Although I was really meant to start last week with my University climbing club, today I finally got around to getting to a climbing wall and learning the basics of rock climbing which are core to everything else I will ever need to learn to do with ropes, be it in ice climbing, bouldering or even on a building site. I've done a little bit of rope stuff before, abseiling on adventure camps with the Army or a little rock climbing with Scouts, but that was all at least 4 years ago and if I'd paid attention and learned anything (which in itself is unlikely), it was all long forgotten.

So, with my trusty girlfriend Bailey in tow we headed off to the Westway Sports Center in Shepard's Bush to re-acquaint myself with the finer points of rock climbing, and hopefull have some fun at the same time. After paying for membership, renting a harness and a pair of climbing shoes each we headed out onto the climbing walls for my first lesson.

Charlie reminds me to trust him and the equipment.
I find a man wearing lycra indoors difficult to believe.

First up was simply how to climb; a quick introduction to the double-figure-eight knot that underpins all climbing (which I'm still struggling with) and a lightning ascent of an easy-grade wall to get me confident in myself, what I'm doing and the equipment. The familiar rush hits me as I get further up the wall and as I abseil down I've got a massive smile on my face - even if I never end up on a mountain I know I'll be here as much as I can. Although it's somewhat difficult to put my faith in the equipment and Charlie's belay skills at first, after a couple of slips and arrests and an abseil down I'm feeling more confident in what I'm doing.

Bailey gets a turn and although slightly less confident than me (with a bit less of a head for heights) she's soon rocketing up the walls and doing what Charlie describes as 'throwing the right shapes'. He looks on enviously and mentions something about us 'larger' people never being really good at rock climbing. Not that I especially mind; it's fun but I'd never take it to a high level. When she comes down, Charlie takes his first ascent with me belaying, and I quickly get to grip with maintaining a constant vigil. I'm very aware that to a certain degree his life is in my hands and do my best, although my abseil is a little fast and leaves him nursing a crushed crotch when I keep the rope too tense on descent. But otherwise all is well.

Charlie showing off that he's better than me, whilst I dutifully belay below.

After Bailey is down we walk around and past the self-lead walls, where climbers are attaching their belay rope to karabiners set into the wall or using their own quickdraws to secure themselves to the wall. This is what I'll have to eventually learn how to do, except on a mountain I'd be hammering anchors into ice or rock and leading in that way. But for now, we concentrate on simply learning the ropes. We have a go on a series of other walls until eventually my fingers start to give out. I try one final ascent of a Grade 4+ wall, but even with a healthy dose of chalk my fingers are shot and I can't grip, and I fall less than ten feet off the ground. My forearms are on fire, my fingers are aching and my feet are asking me why I've squeezed them into such uncomfortable shoes but I've competently completed my first proper ropes session.

All I need now is a few months more and I'll be sorted. That is if I can learn all the knots that I need; it really would sruprise you that I was a scout sometimes. Although I certainly know what my next kit purchases will be. Anyone want to give me a lovely new harness?

A Proper Introduction

So, as a first post I suppose I should explain what this is all about. I'm James, and I'm a student in London about to enter the second decade of his life. In the bare basics this is a simple blog that follows me whilst I make a bit of a tit of myself learning the finer points of mountaineering. It's slow, it's not necessarily fascinating and I can tend to get bogged down in annoying little details.

Still here? Well, your choice I suppose. Let me explain further:

I've always had a hankering for the outdoors; before I was six months old my parents were taking me on walking holidays to Brecon or Dorset or any number of middle-of-nowhere locations and lugging me around whilst they 'enjoyed what was left of their youth' as they put it now. It seems that being carried on an old steel army rucksack frame, lolling about not quite comprehending my surroundings (apart from a healthy dose of fresh air and rain) triggered something inside me that left me enthralled with climbing mountains. I'm not a huge walker; give me a patch of flat ground to walk across and I'll be bored stiff, and I'll let you know about it. But give me a challenge; a mountain, an arduous route, difficult conditions and I'll lap it up and ask for more. I've climbed Pen y Fan, completed the Fan Dance challenge, trekked across Dartmoor and even spent a week hiking in the jungles of Brunei. However there is one itch I've never been able to scratch: I've never climbed a proper, snowcapped mountain. I've dreamed about it, read books and magazines, watched films and read blogs, but the opportunity to do an alpine ascent myself has never presented itself. There's only so much that the British Isles can offer you in the way of true mountaineering and whilst I haven't ever climbed anything in Scotland, it's still not the Matterhorn.

Fast forward to October 2012 and I start work (whilst still a student) at Blacks Outdoors and meet my boss, Charlie. Through conversations we discovered we both shared a burning desire to be up mountains, but where I had only dreamed of it, Charlie had been there and done it, had the expreience and the knowledge and was willing to share it. Slowly an idea formed in my mind, and just before the start of 2013 I approached him with the aim of going to the Alps in the summer and making my first mountain ascent. He agreed, and here we are today, starting out on our training. It should be fun, so stick around.

I might even make a tit out of myself. I'll let you watch.