No Can Do

Finally, I got myself wedged into the flake of Nocando Crack.  I looked down to see Jim, head down, hood up, not moving very much.  Obviously the wind was howling and the light was fading like it always is in all these epic winter stories.  I was also fed up, but not as much as Jim was.  I was having a battle with pitch two of The Vicar in Lochan - a stern lochan grade VII.  I fell off low down, then fought my way up the cracks to finally get established on a little ledge before you start climbing the upper arete.  Unable to commit after many attempts, I bailed left onto Nocando.  A mixed feeling of, thank god it was over with much disappointment at my lack of commitment.  This was a cold stormy day in January 2011.  I went back with Guy in January 2013 and we climbed The Vicar in Good style (You can read my account in an old blog somewhere if you can be arsed looking for it).  When climbing the route, I kept looking left into Nocando Crack.  That looks easy, I’ll do that next…

It's been a long time since I've written a blog post.  They seem to have gone out of fashion a bit.  However, many friends over many years, particularly Chadders, have always requested it was brought back to life.  I don’t know why.  The last post must have been about the big whipper on the Ben with Iain Small.  Anyway, here is a ramble about 2 magical days in March of this year.

Not many people climb Nocando Crack in winter.  I’ve stood at the bottom of it many times and shied away as the crack oozed with ice.  Jamie Skelton and I did try it once, but I backed off, unable to commit to the bold and icy cracks on pitch 2.  This route became a thing in my head every winter.  As we all know, this winter has been pretty fickle.  During the first week of March, I went for a run - walk, well, more of a walk with Emma and her dog Inver up twin ribs and Fiacaill ridge.  I pointed out to Emma and Inver how ice free everything was and all it would take would be some northeries to blast the crags with some snow.  Emma gave a glazed look back; she was more interested in when it would snow again for her to go skiing.  There was a bit of snow in the forecast, but I don’t think either of us anticipated the magical winter days to come over the next week or so.

Corie an t - Sneachtda looking lean on 7th March 2025

A week later there were reports of the crags being buried, gear was hard won and the skiing was unreal.  I love Scotland.  Rob Giddy and I debated whether to go skiing or climbing.  It doesn't take much persuasion to get me on my skis over winter climbing these days.  It's just so much better.  Anyway, we opted for a winter climbing day.  The walk in was easy. Rob kept me entertained with his latest life story.  What to climb?  Everything was buried in thick rime.  There was no question whether it was ‘in’ or not like it had been in previous week.  If I was ever going to do Nocando Crack, today was the day.  Absolutely plastered in rime, but relatively dry underneath.  Rob was sent up the first pitch.  It looks easy but it’s not.  I’m glad he did it as it's all just awkward mantles onto slopey granite ledges with an exciting steep wall to get onto the belay ledge. Well done Rob.

Rob on Pitch 1 of Nocando Crack

No. 4 Buttress

I was instantly shitting my pants as I started up pitch 2.  The whole time, looking for an excuse to retreat.  It took a bit of courage to commit.  Clipping an old insitu icy bit of tat got me started.  A few more moves up, I clipped an insitu bulldog then I managed to tap in wallnut 2.  I’m not sure how good it was due to the pull, but better than nothing.  The route was heavily rimed which provided a satisfying challenge in uncovering the sequence.  A crack in the right wall kept teasing me up. It was taking the first tooth of my pick.  I could see these little flares in it, hoping I could seat another wire, but no, nothing.  Creeping up, battling demons, I kept wanting to climb back down.  I was really battling the urge.  However, that was the only thing keeping me going, I was certain I could reverse every move.  It would be flipping terrifying, but I could dig deep if I wanted to.  I got to the point where I was well above my last piece of gear.  I’m not going any higher.  Managing to batter a small DMM terrier half into the tight crack on the right wall, again that was better than nothing.  I also managed to tap a bulldog into some crumbling ice in the wide groove slot thing on my left.  It might have held the weight of my jacket if I decided to take it off.  Questing on, fuck sake, what am I doing? Before I knew it, the ropes were properly waving between me and my last two pieces.  Just for reference, I don't go looking for this sort of thing!  Rob was doing the maths and I was doing the maths, but we never discussed our workings and final answer.  Finally a nice tapered slot which would take a chunky hex nicely.  But my ax was taking up space.  It was a good tool so I was happy but not happy.  I could see I would have to commit even more, get my tools into a thinner crack and feet onto smaller footholds to free up the slot, FFS. Finally the psyche arrived, I moved up, a hex got battered into the slot. The tension in the air finally burst, thank god. I’m not sure who was more relieved, me or Rob.  The rest of the pitch was strenuous, but with gear at least.  Not totally piss with some icy cracks requiring some careful gear placements.  

Me clearing rime off pitch 2 of Nocando Crack 
Photo: Robert Giddy

Rob enjoying pitch 2

Rob is part of the rapidly expanding young team based in Inverness.  From what I can see, Rob gets the rope up the pitch.  A fit, strong lad, super psyched but not in an annoying way, with a good head on his shoulders - definitely someone you want on your side.  The final pitch, the difficulties are short lived but stubborn.  Straight off the belay, the climbing is in your face.  Thankfully Rob was on lead.  I could relax, he wasn’t backing down.  Front points pasted on granite crystals, tenuous spaced hooks requiring some committing and strenuous pulls between them, finally Rob got himself wedged in the big flake.  After a few wriggles, he was onto the exit ledges.

Finally Nocando Crack was climbed. The weight of mystery and wonder finally lifted off my shoulders.  It’s a stiff route but what would you expect from a Lochan grade VII.  It's good to get humbled by these routes in the Northern Cairngorms. I love them as it keeps my ego in check.

Skiing is pretty good, however, an experience like Nocando, is hard to beat.  A few days later, I found myself and my skis on Braeriach with team strong: Emma, Tom & Huw.  I find the contrast between skiing and climbing fascinating.  Onsight climbing happens at a much slower rate and is steady.   You can sometimes find yourself strung out, holding stress positions for long periods of time, looking for gear, holds, sequences with no quick exit from it, particularly if the protection is tricky.  You feel the difficulty and sort of creep into it.  Skiing on the other hand, there is no creeping.  You can't test moves out and reverse to shake out.  It's about forward momentum, and committing your weight forward when you naturally want to recline (which I'm unintentionally an expert at).  

Tom, Huw and Emma

The weather looked mint on the Tuesday.  An annual leave day deployed from me, a rearrangement of work for Huw, left Emma in a panic as she was working.  Somehow after some negotiation Emma was also available.  Tom was genuinely off.  I guess when you see those rare days of good conditions coming up, all stops need to be pulled as conditions don’t last forever.  A sweaty cycle up Glen Einich for Tom, Huw and I as Emma drafted in behind on an electric bike saw us to almost the head of Loch Einich. 

A windy walk then skin brought us to the top of the Northside of Garbh Choire Mor.  The sun was softening the steep bullet hard snowpack nicely.  As a climber, I would have to turn in and down climb the top section of the slope, yet as a skier you just slide in on a set of skis.  Its pretty nuts.  Anyway, I was more than happy to see someone else go first here.  This was not climbing.  What both sports share though is the need to be confident and committed but in different ways.  Confidence to start a crux sequence; confidence to drop in and commit to that first turn.  Skiing, it's over in a short space of time.  It's all happening quickly, turns need to be executed and you have to be confident, there is no just stopping to hang on and shake out which I like to do.

Emma dropped in first and made some neat effortless turns.  Tom followed, again more neat effortless turns.  Then it was my go.  Having the encouragement from below, I committed.  Somehow I managed to make some turns and survive my way down.  The tension was broken, the same feeling as banging in a hex on Nocando.  Everyone could breathe a sigh of relief - MJ got down in one piece.  More lines skied with beaming grins and laughter, fueled my mums Christmas cake.  One of those magical days with good friends which I'll never forget.  I’ve had a few trips to Norway and the Alps with my skis.  Whilst these are amazing destinations, there is something much more special about days out like these close to home.

Me not climbing or shaking out.
Photo: Huw Oliver

Lucky to have this so close

Huw

Psyched
 Photo: Huw Oliver

Eeking out the last bits of snow for the season

A week later....

Maybe I'll write another blog in 10 years time.  The end.

Laying some demons to rest

Sat in the passenger seat of Tony’s car, I asked him the geeky question of what was his favourite route of the trip. He then bounced the same question back… I took a moment to think. I’m not sure there was a specific route, but more the fact I was able to trad climb again and trust my ability to climb and place gear.

Iain mixed climbing with a found bulldog.

I’ve been very poor with writing a blog this year. For the first time, ‘life’ has caught up with me. I bought a house. The keys were collected on the 4th July and my climbing turned upside down. Oh what a disaster, poor me, life is so unfair and so on. It was a kick in the balls. The best and driest summer in my climbing life and I opted to dig holes, lay insulation, install a wood burner and shit like that rather than cash in.  Short term pain, long term gain.

Ben Nevis in the late evening light

In reflection, the summer hasn’t been that crap. After almost killing myself and Iain on The Ben back in June, climbing was a bit of a stop start. I was physically fine and capable, but I guess I’m only admitting it now, 4 months later that I was pretty mentally affected by the experience.  Ripping an entire pitch of gear out is probably one of the worst experiences a climber can go through.  Lucky for me, I was high in the hills with just space below me.

4 days free at the end of June, I had planned to climb with Iain. He sent me a messages saying that even climbing on Comb Buttress was too hot! So with mixed emotion, I opted for doing ‘The Bat E2’. It was a nice re introduction to trad climbing. Hats off to Robin Smith.

Iain on pitch 2 or 3 of 'The Bat'

Iain, told me about his and Dave Macleods new E7 ‘Mr Fahrenheit’ on the Comb. It was an easy sale. Having walked past that buttress many times, its always covered in snow and ice so it was a novelty to spend 2 days up there in shorts and t shirt. The starting slab was issued with a health warning and so I opted to check it out as no one wants to hurt themselves. To gain access to the top, you do the traverse of ‘Don’t Die of Ignorance’. That was rather exposed warm up. I can only imagine at the moment how exciting that would be with tools and crampons.

'Don't Die of Ignorance' traverse.

Me shunting the slab on the lower half of 'Mr Fahrenheit' 

Iain on the first ascent of 'Don't stop me now E6 6b'

Despite the amazing summer, there was the odd thunderstorms forecast.  Unfortunately these were falling on the days I had arranged with Iain for a visit to the Central Slabs.  But sitting here thinking about it, I’m not sure how well I would have fared up on those long run outs with a bruised mind. 

Snow tunnel 

As many folk know, Caff is on a rampage to finish ticking the iconic Extreme Rock book.  So, I had the pleasure of a day out with him and Cubby on Church Door Buttress in Glencoe.  This crag has the reputation for being slow to dry.  So, we cashed in and ticked Kingpin E3, Lost Ark E4 and Temple of Doom E3.  Lost Ark felt rather testing in places, not helped by Cubby shouting up comments about his ascent of it which was before I was born!  Legend. 

Church Door Buttress

Caff following Pitch 1 of 'Lost Ark'

 Andy Inglis and I had a week booked for a UK rock trip.  North Wales provided the obvious choice with a mixed forecast. The highlights from the week were, Andy testing the bolt stub and thread on ‘The Cad E6’, me pulling a hold off (after shaking out for 5 min on it!) on ‘Shittlegurber E5’, feeling ridiculously week and shit climbing at LPT and just been in North Wales.  Oh, and realising that buying a house in the Highlands may not have been the correct move.  But I always think that when I visit.  I looked at ‘The Clown’, but I mentally couldn’t bring myself to get on it.  Not enough trad climbing in the bank this year for that nonsense.  Next spring.  Thanks to Peter Herd and Dave Evans for providing a floor at the start and end of the trip.

South Stack

A trip to the Dolimites had been planned for the first 2 weeks of September with Tony Stone.  On my arrival in Sheffield, the long range forecast looked rather mixed and unsettled.  For once the southern half of the UK looked good.  I had never been to the South West before so we took the opportunity to faff around there for our holiday. 

Tony starting the trip out with 'II Duce'

Sunset at Sharpnose

Lundy was suggested so we spent 5 days there.  On our arrival, Tony sent me up ‘Supernova E5 6b’ as a warm up.  He said it was a bit tricky to get started.  Dam right it was.  However, I eventually got established and made steady progress.  The sun came out, walls were a bit green, my feet were exploding and my mouth was dry…. Just get the excuses out.  The guide mentions a peg…. A stub remains.  I stupidly thought the crux was low down and all I had to do was just steady my way to the top.  The crack slants right, it widens and nothing remains for the feet.  I’ll spare you the details, I sagged onto some gear. I topped out in a mess.  Dry mouthed, lathered in sweat along with bleeding toes from swelling.  Not an enjoyable experience. 

Tony re climbing 'Controlled Burning' after part of it falling down.

I was impressed with the South West.  A corner of Britain which I’ve been aware of but never made the effort to get to.  I thought that Bosigran was top quality.  Although it was a bit too hot for a pair of Scots at times so there was obviously some grumbling.  Visiting the crags around Lands End, I couldn’t help but think about all these people who walk, cycle, crawl, hop their way up North to John O Groats.  It’s a long way and I’m not inspired to do it.

Back home, I was back to house faff under the watchful eye of my pal Donnie.  My DIY skills have gone from absolutely shit to just shit so that’s something to be proud of.   Adding insulation, flooring the attic, digging out a slope in the garden, looking at curtains, I’m learning a few things.  But my motivation is beginning to slow down which is great and I can regain my climbing psyche again. 

Torridon

Its autumn now.  Last week there was some snow and everyone was jumping up and down with excitement.  Even I was.  Lots of pictures of folk ledge shuffling and spraying all over the internet.  I can’t wait to see it in a few months time.  Meanwhile, the friction in Torridon last Friday was Velcro and I managed to open the bouldering season with ‘Wee Baws 7B’.  Not exactly the best training for a looming sport climbing trip to El Chorro but hey ho.

Gaz on 'Potential 7'

A big whipper on Ben Nevis

Drinking a mug of tea in the CIC hut on Ben Nevis at the end of the day was a pleasure.  Normally after a day on the Ben, Iain by habit needs to go in the hut, relax and enjoy a pot of tea.  Easy for him I think.  Normally I am chomping to get back due to my slight impatience.  Mainly due to the fact I’ll have some arrangement or work at the other side of the country the next day.  But this day was different.  I took time to enjoy the company and reflect on our day…. 

Ben Nevis

Over the years, I have managed to work my way through the climbs in the guidebook for Carn Dearg Buttress on Ben Nevis.  A bit annoying really as I love that badass cliff.  Iain of course has opened up a few more but the details have only ever been discreetly published.  A few years ago I repeated a route of his and Tony Stones up the right wall of Sassenach.  A nice steady E6 wall climb.  Highly recommended for anyone operating at that grade.  Recently we have had a great spell of weather.  For the first time ‘Life’ has caught up with me and so I haven’t managed to capitalise on it.  I had a day booked with Iain and so we opted for Carn Dearg.  He was happy to hold my ropes.  His suggestion was the left arête of Banana Groove.  It’s an E6  called ‘Calgucus’ he and Rick Campbell established in 2009.  I was easily sold.

Leaving the belay at the base of Banana Groove, I clipped the top wire of the belay, placed a cam, unclipped the wire, placed another 2 wires higher… then reversed, faffed.  Then clipped the belay wire.  Thin moves left, you gain the arête.  It’s sharp but satisfying.  Airy moves up I gained more wire placements.  They seemed solid (Size 5 DMM offset and a big BD micro).  More tricky moves and the right wall overhangs.  I gained a strenuous undercut and manged to place 2 small C3’s and 1 micro. 

The sequence above was unobvious.  Strenuous and technical was my initial thoughts.  I probed up and down many times trying to unlock something.  Iain had no knowledge so I was on my own.  I felt a bit of fear so placed another DMM small peanut. Now, I am a pretty calculated climber I like to think… sometimes over cautious.  No one wants to die or hurt themselves.  So basing it on that, I committed to a sequence.  Yes, I was pumped and my sequence was not working out so I went for the lob.  The gear at my waist, nothing new I thought.  Fuck me, I went for the ride of my life.

That cluster ripped clean out, spinning upside down, the next cluster ripped, I’m still having flashing images of the ledges of Sassenach off to my left.  I braced my body having time to think.  The next minutes I was on the biggest swing of my life under the big roofs of Sassenach with a pile of gear upside down.  ‘Oh bugger I thought’.  Correcting my orientation my ribs ached along with 2 rope burns across the inside of my right forearm.  Keeping the swing, I got into the wall and pulled my way onto the left rib.  Glancing up, Iain was pinned upside down glaring down with the rope pinning him down. I thought I had had the rough ride.  No! 

On the Arete (Photo:Iain Small)

Poor Iain was groaning in pain.  He never said too much apart from telling me he smacked his head (he was wearing a helmet), was feeling sick and sweating.  He informed me he tied the rope off and to just give him a minute.  I was clamped to the rib and placed 2 wires to secure myself to give myself a minute to just take in what had happened.  I had a growing concern for Iain.  How long do I wait till I climb back up?  He seemed adamant to give him a moment… Eventually he partially recovered and I climbed back up with him belaying me fine.

A nervous laughter was exchanged.  It was agreed pretty quickly that a pot of tea in the CIC hut was needed.  I knew something was wrong.  It was 1.30pm, there was still light and Iain wanted to go home! 

By the time we had left the hut, Iain was fine, chatting away and felt back to normal.  It was good to see the human side of him.  He felt content at the fact he has happy to leave, go home and enjoy the weather rather than feel the need to be out.  I felt sick to be honest.  I was the one who took the 30 meter whipper, but I came away relatively un marked.  Iain however took the impact.  Hats off to him.  He doesn’t remember much.  Obviously he was checked out in A&E and was deemed fine.  A stitch was required to his chin.  His poor knuckles have no skin left and he has a lump on his head.

Rope Burn

Clearly a lot of analysis has been happening in my head.  Cubby has taken great interest and has turned into Sherlock Holmes carrying out an enquiry.   Jules too has given it his interest.  I do feel a bit daft but it’s been reassuring speaking with those two as we all know from the history books, they have taken their fair share of rides down the cliff.  A few days have passed and I’m pretty keen to get back out (its good to see I am frustrated about the humidity, thunderstorms and midges rather than the fear of climbing).  I guess that’s the joy of harder climbing;  I sign up for it .  Having done lots of hard trad over the years, it’s good to have a gentle reminder that things can be pretty dangerous.  We walked away and I have my own thoughts on how to deal with stressful trad in the future.  We all get lazy about placing that initial bomber runner.  But from this experience, I’m sure you can see its importance.  Iain had actually placed a wire at his waist which stopped the upward pull too much.  Without, that would it have been much worse?  Do we all place wires at belays to take upward pulls?  Unusually we were using a single rope that day.  That was out of the norm for me.  Why do I have rope burn on the inside of my right arm?  A lot of things to think about.  So take what you want from that.

Winter. The Middle Part of the Season

The last time John Orr and I climbed together was a Sunday back in Feburary 2014.  We made the first winter ascent of route called ‘Root of All Evil’ IX,8 on Beinn Eighe.  I don’t know what happened but the last 4 years have slipped away and all we have managed was a quick social evening whenever I was in North Wales.  Anyway, John has been busy with the guides scheme which means his personal climbing has taken a back seat for parts of the year.  At the start of the winter, he sent me some dates of when he would be in Scotland and was keen to hook up.  He obviously pointed out that he has only been skiing and had done no climbing of any form recently. 

Ben Nevis

The season rolled on by and many crags came into good condition.  John and my date was fast approaching and there was that little reminder each time that he has only been skiing.  Centurian VIII,8 seemed to keep popping its head up in our discussions.  Naturally John had his reservations.  A long hard and sustained winter route.  However, the forecast was perfect and its rarely in such good winter condition John agreed it was a good opportunity.  I must admit, I did have new route psyche on Beinn Eighe burning at the back of my mind.  I disguised this by suggesting a nice short easy day, but John never bought that one as he had been there before.  The deal was, he would have a go at the first pitch then I would lead the next 3 hard pitch’s then take it from there.  And that’s exactly what happened.  Pitch 2 was the most time consuming as its long and sustained.  Higher up the route, I feared the route 2 traverse would be a nightmare due to the volume of snow on the slabs.  But as I started the traverse, it became almost a walk due to the snow being fairly useful with a slight but of consolidation.  The trench formed in the snow down Ledge Route at 9 pm was a welcome sight. 

Me following pitch 1 of Centurian (Photo: Johm Orr)

John following pitch 2 of Centurian (Photo: John Orr)

Me on the thin traverse on pitch 3 of Centurian (Photo: John Orr)

John following pitch 4? I think of Centurian

The Steeple IX,9, that would be another long winter affair I often thought.  Iain Small has often voiced his reservations about climbing it in winter.  He is a proper winter climber preferring the winter only ground.  In saying that, he has an impressive CV of winter ascents of hard rock routes!  Living now in the modern era, I couldn’t help but notice several reports of the Shelterstone crag been in good condition.  I tentatively suggested The Steeple to Iain and to my surprise he agreed out right.  The route had already had 3 ascents, with various means of gaining the upper pitches which include the stunning corner pitch.  Martin Moran and Pete Macpherson climbed a much more pure line of the route back in 2012.  Taking in the entry summer 5a pitch’s but swapping the slabby summer 5c pitch for the needle 5b pitch, this seemed a good option for Iain and myself. 

The Shelterstone

Iain got the ball rolling on the awkward groove first pitch.  Pitch 2, the continuation of the groove has a superbly fractured left wall.  Littered with perfect pick placements, this pitch in its own right would have a que of climbers back to Aviemore if it was located in the Northern Corries.  The summer 5b pitch of The Needle, gave Iain a good workout.  Following him, I forgot how strenuous it was and the seconding fear started to rise exponentially.  Busting my gut pulling into the finishing groove of the pitch knocked my confidence, but I never voiced my concern.  ‘Aye, that was quite tricky, nice one Iain’. 

Me following pitch 1 of The Steeple (Photo: Iain Small)

Iain on the Needle pitch

Leading the ramp and layback groove sharpened my focus again.  Pick eating cracks are always welcome, but sometimes are hungry resulting in a stuck tool.  Some jiggery pokery, I managed to free the tool with a raging hot temper.  Arriving at the belay below the corner, I thought ‘Oh, that looks tricky’.  At least the belay platform was nice below which offered me some comfort.  

Me on the ramp pitch (Photo: Iain Small)

It was still light, which was a bonus, but glancing at my watch, and knowing the rate I would be climbing at, I knew the head torch better be strapped on.  Questing up, the initial part is beautifully strenuous and positive.  Forgetting what this pitch was like as a summer route, I hoped the pitch continued in a similar positive fashion.  Then I was ground to a halt.  Baggy cracks, little feet and strenuous positions, my body was cramping up.  Laybaying on tools, feet pasted on nothing, hand jams, matching tools a thank god chalkstone was reached.  Here I could just chill out and hang on.  That has its advantages and disadvantages.  The rest of the pitch was still hard and awkward to climb.  With it being winter, of course everything was covered in snow and clearing was a pain in the ass.  But climbing snowed up rock is the stupid game we play so I’m not complaining.  Of course it was dark, and topping out of the corner with little gear left on my harness, everything was buried, there was several times I wished it all to be over.  Finally I got myself strapped in onto the airy and lonely perch below the final wall which guarded the easier exit ground above.  

Me on the Steeple Corner pitch (Photo:Iain Small)

I recalled Pete Macpherson saying that this pitch just sucked the energy out of you.  I can confirm it does.  Thankfully for Iain, the cracks were taking cams so it was safe.  Purple camalot size.  Great, but not great for picks.  So, some seriously strenuous pulls from him and an snowy mantel the ropes began to feed out quicker.  A pleasant sight for any tired belayer.  A faint‘Safe’ was heard, this was music to my ears.  Following this pitch with cramping hands, biceps and abdominal s was a joy in the rain.   The warm weather was pushing in and our lovely crisp winters day was over.  Standing at the base of the Sheltersone at 10pm on a Sunday night in February pissing is not my favourite thing at that time of night.  Add in the fact we had the painful walk out of Corie Domhain through a deep thawing snowpack with bags twice as heavy.  That again, is not my favourite thing.  However, the deep satisfaction of The Steeple coursing through my body and an unforced grin, the walkout was easy.  Some cold broccoli, a tin of mackerel and some oat cakes was a welcome dinner back at the car park.

Iain on the final top wall pitch

I cant quite remember the weather pattern but I think it thawed for a few days, then a re freeze with high pressure saw the ice begin build and pump out from everywhere.  Nick Bullock and I had arranged to go out.  Going to Ben Nevis on a stellar forecast was neither of our ideas of fun.  We took the risk and wondered about the icy routes on Giants Wall on Beinn Bhan.  Neither of us had climbed the outrageous line of Gully of the Gods VI,6.  Hoping that would hold the ice we chanced it.  I must admit, walking in, I had my reservations.  But, it was such a gorgeous day and we both agreed even taking the bag for a walk and looking at stuff was going to be satisfactory.  Giants Wall looked lean and my heart sank a little.  But peeking into Gully of the Gods, it was sufficiently smeared in ice.  Boom!  This route is by far one of the best winter climbs I have done.  3D fun is the best way to describe it. We were on top by 12.50pm.  With the sun splitting the sky and not a breath of wind, we just hung around lapping it up.  Cheating really, it was too easy.  The idea of doing a second route was quickly put in the bin.  How often do you get to sit about in the warm sun in winter after a route?  It was as opposite to hard mixed climbing as you can get. 

Beinn Bhan

Nick on pitch 1 of Gully of the Gods

Me on the 3D pitch 2 (Photo: Nick Bullock)

We agreed that Der Risenwand VII,6 looked icy enough so stashed the kit.  The following day we walked in with light bags and trainers over the frozen bog.  A novelty for this wall.  My previous visits have always been wallowing around in deep snow, in the dark falling into bogs, sliding on wet vegetation.  The usual grinding approach in the North West.  We roped up for the first 3 pitchs then just soloed along the terrace and up the ramp until a narrowing that neither of us fancied without a rope.  The original line makes an airy step left at the top of the ramp.  Nick reached a belay just before the step.  As I approached he was like ‘Oh, look at that over hanging ice above you Murdoch.  That looks rather good and tasty doesn’t it?’  I looked up, and thought, for fuck sake!  But, it did look rather attractive.  However, it did look like you had to utilise a wedged block which looked rather too exciting for me.  Anyway, away I went.  A steep strenuous mixed traverse right gained the ice, followed by some cruddy ice, it wasn’t a place to fall.  But thankfully I didn’t.  Nick followed then did what he is good at and just ploughed on doing one very long dynamic pitch to the top dragging me up behind.  Another, fine day.  Great company and good chat putting the world to right, it has to be my best weekend of the winter!

The magnificent Giants wall of Corie Nan Fhamhair

Nick on pitch 1 of Der Risenwand

Looking up at the wrong moment. (Photo: Nick Bullock)

Nick on the traverse on pitch 3

Me following pitch 3 (Photo:Nick Bullock)

Nick on the middle terrace.

Me following the ramp (Photo: Nick Bullock)

Me on the new Icicle variation  finish (Photo: Nick Bullock)

Nick