Scottish winter 2018

As I write this it’s 25 °C in Manchester, Northern England. It’s wall-to-wall sunshine, a Wonderwall of sunsh-ee-iiine (there’s some local music for you). This is freak weather. It is bizarre, not usual, out of the ordinary. And this winter was the same, bringing prolonged amazing climbing conditions. Here’s some of the highlights of what I got up to this winter.

January

Liz and I snuck in a quick ascent of Pinnacle Ridge and Sharp Edge in the Lakes in early January. Blue skies all round and good snow: quality.

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Sharp Edge

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Blencathra.

 

I was then whisked off to the USA with work and the bizarre Ouray Ice Festival. It’s amazing, scary and brilliant in equal measure. Real ice, but man-made with sprinklers, and top-rope lines everywhere.

It’s a great way to practice ice climbing and to get pumped out of your mind in relative safety, as long as you keep an eye on potential falling ice as you belay!

Ice climbing comps and watching heroes like Will Gadd was a great bonus.

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Will Gadd tops out on the comp route.

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An amazing sand/snow mountain thing on the way from Ouray to Denver.

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Ouray ice festival in fresh snow.

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Me getting seriously pumped on a long and steep WI6.

 

Back to Scotland

Next, a backpack and Munro-bag of the five Lochnagar Munros was on the cards, staying at the Glas-Allt-Shiel bothy. The weather was dank, it was warm, but we marched round and were rewarded with great views as we neared the Stuic.

 

One of the highlights of the winter was climbing Crowberry Gully in perfect conditions.

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Into the bowels of Crowberry Gully: amazing atmosphere.

Loads of people climbed it this winter but Ross and I got lucky and we were the only people on the route. The weather was mixed but it wasn’t too bad and the perfect neve more than made up for it. Tim Neill had told us we only needed one ice screw: we thought that maybe he did, but we probably needed two. However, he was right and conditions were so good we only placed about 6 pieces of gear on the whole route. The descent was a little complex as a cornice prevented access into the normal descent gully, but the rib to the north was okay, though some windslab was about.

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Pete gets stuck into the second pitch

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I took this from the floor because I’d already been blown off my feet. Windy.

A savage day climbing in the Norries a few days later was had on the Seam. Very strong winds, loads of spindrift, thick rime, and plummeting temperatures (this was Beast from the East time) meant getting out of there as quickly as possible. I’m not sure whether it was the weather or the conditions or both, but it felt more like grade V, 6 than IV, 5, and Pete who’d had the debatable pleasure of leading the top pitch agreed.

Back up North

Long-suffering partner Paul and I found ourselves in Scotland on a weekend where conditions were difficult: avalanche conditions were relatively high and yet the weather forecast was good, and climbing conditions were difficult to interpret with little info online and a lot of aspects unsuitable due to the amount of snow about. Following endless discussions we got on Scabbard Chimney.

The walk-in (wade-in) to Stob Coire nan Lochan had taken us an hour longer than usual, and I was very glad that Paul was very fit and very keen to wade up to his waist to reach the climb itself. I walked behind in his footprints/bodyprints, pretending it was hard for me too.

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A very white Stob Coire nan Lochan.

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Paul gets established on the first/second pitch.

The first pitch was largely buried so Paul got stuck into pitch 2 and made quick work of it – just as well as it wasn’t the place for hanging about. He got pounded by spindrift on his ascent, completely disappearing for minutes at a time. It was a good lead.

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Me on the crux corner (Photo Copyright Paul).

I had the next pitch, somehow being lumped with the crux. I took my time, teetering up on poor feet but with generally good hooks. The clearing was exhausting, though, and it took forever: about six inches of rime covered everything. It was probably a 90 minute lead for 25 metres.

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Me still battling and digging (Photo Copyright Paul).

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The brilliant upper ridge: if the weather’s good I’d highly recommend making the effort to top out on Stob Coire nan Lochan – it’s a great day out.

Being mountaineers and not climbers we opted to finish the route and we were so glad we did: the weather cleared and the upper gully and then the upper alpine-style ridge rewarded us with stunning skies. Perhaps my favourite climb of the winter, on a long and tiring day.

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Summit shot.

The next day we tackled Eastern Slant near Stob Coire nan Lochan (good option if lots of snow about and it’s cold: relies on frozen turf) the next day we headed to Ben Nevis for a short day. I led the first pitch of Vanishing Gully before Paul – a few minutes after saying he struggles placing ice screws one-handed – made quick work of despatching the crux second pitch. It’s a great route and the second pitch is plump-vertical for the first few metres, it’s the steepest bit of ice I’ve climbed in Scotland. We abseiled off and made our way to the cave belay for the second abseil – a far better proposition than abseiling off the peg belay.

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Vanishing Gully second pitch.

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The cave belay.

Late season

Later in the season the conditions were still great and along with Comb Gully in frankly ridiculous spindrift – the worst I’ve ever experienced – Scott, Ross and I climbed the CIC icefall. What an amazing piece of ice! It was dripping as we climbed it and we probably got it on the last few days of which it was climbable. A great low-level option on the Ben.

 

Liz and I climbed Twisting Gully in Glencoe on a great low-stress day where the only real difficulties were found at the cornice, which with a lot of digging by me got taken care of. The next day was one of the best I’d ever had: on an Easter with a good forecast Scotland was busy, but we headed to a deserted Glen Sheil to tackle the Forcan Ridge.

In terms of aesthetics and classical Alpine-style ridges, I think it’s superior to any of the Great Ridges on Ben Nevis, better than the Aonach Eagach: it’s just stunning.

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The first part of the Forcan Ridge.

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Like Castor or Pollux, but without the faff of altitude.

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Views of Skye and Rum.

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The Forcan Ridge goes on for a long while, it just keeps coming. We carried and used a ~40 metre half-rope for moving together, but we weren’t sure it would be long enough for the abseil once we reached it. However, there is a route down on the left (facing towards the summit of the Saddle) which, while quite tricky and a bit loose, wasn’t too bad and looked more tempting than the technical down-climb on the right hand side.

Excluding the top-rope lines in America I climbed 16 graded winter climbs this year (8 of which were grade IV or above) and bagged plenty of Munros too. That’s a record for me, in a winter which broke plenty of records.

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Even when the weather’s grim there’s light ahead. You might just have to wait a while.

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Winter season 2015/16 photo diary

It seems weird to be rounding-up my winter climbing season in mid-summer, but it was such a weird season that barely started, choked, and then somehow didn’t finish until mid-May. This post fits with that confusing timeline.

A false start

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A beautiful day but too much powder for climbing.

My first attempt at a winter day out was in January with an impromptu visit to a very snowy Lake District. Despite beautiful views and cold temperatures there was no chance of any proper climbing: way too much powder made for hard going and a buried route. So, a nice day out but no climbing just yet.

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Citronelle and marine makes a photo.

Winter training

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Descending Broad Gully

Next up was a day with mates from my club training some of the movement tactics that you might use in Scotland or abroad. We had fun on a line in Stob Coire nan Lochan over to the left of the corrie, moving together all the way. The next day the thaw arrived with a bang and we didn’t even leave the cafe – it was raining non-stop and 15 degrees in the valley. Time to go home.

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Leaving Coire an t’Sneachda.

My next Scottish trip was another training trip, this time with work. We had a good time pootling about in the Cairngorms and the weather was great. While on this trip I also managed to sneak in The Message with my boss, which was a fantastic day out. I’ve been winter climbing for about 7 years but had never done anything actually technical and this was a nice change. Bit of a workout for the arms and some mixed action.

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Awkward step on P2 of The Message.

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The steep chimney of P3.

The CIC hut

No sooner as I had returned from Scotland, I was straight back up (I spent one day at work and then went straight back up north). A friend had a spare space in the CIC hut and needed a partner. With a bombproof forecast and excellent conditions I couldn’t resist, and the journey up was absolutely worth it. Getting in to the car park at about midnight, we were at the hut at about 1.30 am and up at 5 am to get on the route… I’d wanted to do Tower Ridge on Ben Nevis for as long as I’d been winter climbing.

Tower Ridge was THE route for me: it was long, classic, in an amazing situation, and not overtly technical.

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Kate on Tower Gap.

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Me on Tower Gap (photo Copyright Philip Jardine).

Kate and I were confident we’d be fine on it, and in the sublime conditions we cruised the route. We found much of the route quite easy and agreed we’d have happily soloed all of it in those conditions but for Tower Gap, which is awkward rather than difficult.

Feeling confident, we went for North East Buttress next: it was a logical next step, another classic Nevis ridge and a chunk harder. However, Ben Nevis bit back: we climbed five pitches of loose, avalanche-prone and hideous terrain that just hadn’t thawed and refrozen in the same way as the rest of the mountain, before we abseiled off. We hadn’t even reached the first platform and the start of the route proper. That was a big reminder that if conditions aren’t right you don’t really have a chance. It was also a good lesson in subtle differences in aspect making a huge difference to snow conditions.

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Traversing more gearless crud.

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The inevitable retreat.

Another crack at NE Buttress

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Our abseil tat from the retreat three weeks earlier. When we’d left it the whole outcrop was iced up.

Three weeks later, now in March, I was back up in Scotland with Scott, who was chomping at the bit. NE buttress was our target, and the conditions could not have been more different to the month previous: the approach was now largely on turf and path, and the snow we found was sublime. We moved together for much of the route until the Mantrap and 40 Foot Corner. Every metre of the route offered something new: it was really special.

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Scott on one of the snowfields of NE Buttress. Very Alpine.

We did the route in good time and planned our next objective as Hadrian’s Wall, another super-classic and which we heard was in excellent condition. We got to bed early, got up early, and left the car park… to be greeted by rain. It was much warmer than forecast, much wetter, and not worth it. Half an hour after leaving the car we shook hands and turned round before driving home. A good decision.

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Awesome bit of ice in a runnel on NE Buttress.

Munro bagging

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Super duper views above Crianlarich.

My final Scottish trip of the season was a beautiful weekend climbing Munros near Crianlarich with some of my oldest and best friends. Snow conditions were good but the weather was exceptional: blue skies, cold temperatures, and bright sunshine. A great way to end the season.

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Views as far as the eye could see.

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The end of a great winter.

My last bit of winter

I spent the last bit of winter getting absolutely destroyed by the fittest group of guys I’ve ever been a part of. I was on a cycling ‘holiday’ in Spain where almost everyone was a very serious cyclist, including two semi-professional riders. High speed riding, huge hills, massive mileage… it was amazing, and a real eye-opener to what a bit of training and dedication can do. Another trip like that next year and another Scottish winter season like the one just gone and I’ll be happy!

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A self-portrait after a very hard day’s riding. My Paris-Roubaix.