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)

It's all gone Welsh! - Snowdonia Challenge

What's this? Mountains? On a blog about mountaineering!?

Believe it folks, because I have just returned from a well-needed trip to Snowdonia National Park in North Wales to climb some rather pretty mountains in support of a very deserving charity. I spent four days in Llanberis, North Wales going up and down those lovely rocky land-pimples - this post is long and wordy, but it's my first time on mountains in well over a year and a half, so be prepared for some gushing!

The week was intended as preperation for the University of Westminster International Development Society's annual fundraiser events. Last year they climbed Mount Kilimanjaro, this year it's the Great Wall of China and Machu Picchu, for which this was the warm up. Some of the guys I was climbing with were total outdoors virgins - others were veterans of the Kili expedition, so there was an interesting mix of experience. But for once it was nice to be the one with the knowledge!

After getting picked up from East Croydon, suffering a 6 hour minibus journey to Snowdonia, settling into our (opulent) house and having to struggle my way through a delicious Carbonara at The Heights pub (always worth a visit when you're in the area) it was time to hit the mountains.

Note: I apologise for the odd variety in photo quality, they are sourced from different people who were there!

Day One - Mel Creghern and Snowdon

Taking full advantage of a very brief break in the clouds

The first day of our trip was the meat of our excursion - getting Snowdon done and dusted before people got too tired or bored. Being the second-most experienced mountaineer (behind James, the ex-Army leader of the expedition) and the one with the best knees I was nominated as pathfinder and armed with my trusty OS map (of which our route, of course, was across sheets) and Silva compass, we set off from Llanbris at approximately 10.45am, heading accross the valley side to the YHA Snowdonia Ranger hostel. Progress was slow, mainly due to the fact that the majority of the group was inexperienced, but by midday we had made the junction with the ridgeway path over Moel Creghern where we made our first 'peak' of the day. In the lee of the wind we enjoyed lunch before donning windproofs and heading out for the second (and meatiest) part of our day.

The plan was to descend from Moel Creghern and meet up with the Snowdon Ranger Path, take that up and then return on the Llanberis path. However, after getting into the meat of the Ranger path going slowed to an almost crawl, with some of the weaker members of the group struggling over the slightly more technical route that now involved short scrambles and lots of demoralising switchbacks - progress was limited to a few hundred feet at a time before having to stop to avoid the group straggling out too much. It was at this point that the decision was made that when we met with the Llanberis path some of the struggling members would be led down by James whilst I would take the rest on to take the summit - to say I was proud to be given the responsibility to get these guys to the summit would be an understatement, I was positively jumping!

Looking down over the ridge...only a 400m fall  

Even so, by 1500 we were at the top of the scramble section and onto Snowdon's secondary slope, a much easier walk and the struggling members were catching up. However, we now faced a new challenge: cloud.

It had always been hanging around the peak, but as we were behind schedule the cool early-evening air was drawing the cloud lower and had covered the last 400m of slope. I got the group together, briefed everyone on the importance of staying together, appointed two trusted back markers (Jason and Meg, both Killimanjaro veterans) and set on.

Eventually we reached the ridgeline that leads to Snowdon's summit and the pace at the front picked up - now there was pretty much no risk of anyone getting lost (seriously, you've got to actually try to get lost on that summit path) I struck out to try and make it to the top first. Also those who had said they may return down had decided to strike out for the summit - Dig Deep hoodies littered the Summit path. However, within a couple of hundred meters of the summit I heard an emergency whistle and a yell of 'Man Down'. As the de-facto leader of the expedition my heart stopped and I raced back down, only to find my back markers happily smiling. Turns out they had been yelling 'Mandem' to try and get my attention. Crisis averted - well, no crisis in the first place.

Soon we were at the summit, trying in vain to enjoy the views of nothingness and cloud, but the achievement was still something special. Wind blasted us (even leaving me with some vicious wind burn) and everything we had was covered in milldew from the cloud we were in, but we'd made it, and all of us were there together.

The route down wasn't such fun - the descent phase of a climb is always the hardest and the most energy-sapping, with a never-ending west-facing slope that eventually leads to flat valley roads, so you're never quite off your knees. Even so we were extremely pleased to find a small cafe just outside Llanberis village that provided hearty Welsh cider and confectionary to rejuvenate sapped strength, and even offered us a mascot for our charity. When James arrived half an hour after the lead group he greeted the proprietor as an old friend. The place is really something special - he supports many of the good causes that come around and even has rooms that he lets out, sometimes for free if you're running away from trouble. It's a proper refuge, if you're a climber or not.

Anyway, that was the end of our first day's climbing in Wales - the next promised to be much more fun. Just how much of a challenge was left to be seen...

Day Two - Y Garn and Elidir Fawr

Y Garn

The second day was set to be a much harder affair - having lost most of the people who just wanted to come to 'claim' Snowdon, we were left with a much smaller group, mainly made up of Killimajaro veterans and people keen to learn - and learn we all did! Despite being held up (again, there was a trend here) by Muaz, we all eventually made it to the debus point for the two-mile walk-in to the bottom of our first ascent, to the equally beautiful and tough Y Garn, part of the Glyderau range that dominates the northern end of Snowdonia national park.

Enjoying a light spot of G1 scrambling before lunch is extremely
good for you. View was nice too.

The initial ascent was extremely steep - some of the steepest non-technical walking I've done, and was slow and taxing on thighs that still smarted a little from Snowdon but the scramble after it was more than worth it. Almost 300m ascent of nice, flowing easy-grade scramble was a perfect way to kick off the day, and what was even better was off the 'beaten track' down the centre were more challenging holds and climbs - climbs which I lapped up. What was even nicer was that the little Californian Killi vet Jason had also climbed and scrambled before, so we were able to bounce some interesting ideas off one another. Pushing myself that little bit harder I really enjoyed the route and was almost sad when we reached the 'flat' section that marked the end of the scrambling. However, there were still two peaks to claim that day, so progress had to be made!

At the top of the scramble we stopped for lunch, at which point the cloud started to descend upon us and reduced visibility once more. Our ascent took us up to the edge of the Devil's Appendix, turning North West as we hit Llyn y Cwn. The weather cleared briefly for a moment and we got some fantastic team photos, as well as a couple of stops to fill water bottles with sweet-tasting mountain water. The weather had been especially cold in Snowdonia until very recently and there was still large amounts of snow left in places, including a fascinating cave-like structure that bridged the stream we were following up.

Anyway, after what seemed like hours of walking, several false peaks and ridges and two bars of Kendal Mint Cake (got to love that minty stuff) we made the top of Y Garn, and with a short scramble over some loose rock I maintained my 100% record for hitting the actual summit of every mountain I've ever attempted.

After this came the walk towards the horseshoe and the northern edge of the Glyderau range, where the group faced a moment of crisis - to carry on, into worsening weather and visibility towards Elidir Fawr or to turn back and head home. As the only truly keen mountaineer in the group I wanted to continue, but it was only until Barbora (who I row and study with) came forward to partner me that I was able to strike on.

Elidir Fawr
Having split with the main group on the Eastern ridge me and Barbora headed out towards Elidir Fawr, the second-highest of the four peaks we would climb on this trip. As we got closer the weather closed in further and the cloud got thicker and thicker and visibility dropped to around 10 meters, so communication got difficult and progress slowed as we lost the paths ahead and navigation landmarks. It became a matter of just plugging on with a little bit of faith and a little bit of hope that we could actually make the mountain top.

Barbora disappearing into the mist on Glyderau
ridge

Much of the route was simple-grade scrambles but the weather conditions and lack of visibility made them far more challenging than they would have been on a better day. As such, there isn't a huge amount I can tell you - visibility was so bad that I kept second-guessing my own navigation, despite it eventually putting us spot on the summit almost leading me at two points to give up and turn back - I didn't even know if I was on the correct ridge line without any reference points. I kept trying to get the GPS on my phone to kick in but signal was low, so it was a matter of just keeping on heading upwards, trying to avoid falling over the ridge edge and slipping down into the Horseshoe.

Eventually though, after a not insignificant amount of trial-and-error, we found ourselves on the top of Elidir Fawr, facing sheeting wind and driving rain but having successfully made the fourth peak of our trip.

Me and Barbora, relatively damp atop Elidir Fawr

Next came the down part - and this wasn't simple. The original plan had been to turn back on ourselves and descend the way we came up, but in mind of the weather conditions and the nature of the approach route we'd taken and the difficulty navigating in the cloud, we came to the decision to just follow the western path that should have led down into Nant Peris and home.
However, all was not that simple. Approximately halfway down the path simply disappeared at an unmarked fence line and we were forced to call upon basic navigation techniques to find a stream, follow it down the mountain (on an extremely steep descent that left me with a pair of extremely painful knees) to where we thought it would meet with a larger river that would eventually flow into the Lake. The logic was sound but what we eventually found ourselves faced with was a complex array of fences and dry-stone walls and extremely marshy terrain that soaked through waterproof boots and involved some not-quite-so legal acts of minor trespass, and also some falling.

Eventually though we made it to Nant Peris where me and Barbora, both sufficiently tired to almost not make it into the minibus were collected and bundled off to showers and hot food provided by my ever-helpful housemates.


All in all, this trip couldn't have come at a better time - it's shown me where my technique is weak, has allowed me to blow out some of the cobwebs and try out some of my new kit that hasn't been used in anger as yet - the one thing that this experience has confirmed for me is that it's worth spending money on kit, because save for when I fell into a bog I stayed warm and dry the entire time.

So thanks for reading, come back soon for more, and don't forget to Dig Deep for Dig Deep and support such a fantastic cause!

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.