Maintaining all Disciplines...or an attempt!

Unable to decide what is more important, winter climbing or rock climbing, the simplest thing I can is just mix it up.  And no, I don’t mean winter mixed climbing. 

I received a text message from Iain suggesting that we went to Glencoe for a winter day out.  When I say ‘suggesting’, it was more like, ‘don’t argue, that’s where we’re going’.  I read this message and thought ‘fair enough’.  5 minutes of walking, I was blowing out my ass trying to keep up with Iain.  We noted a few familiar vans in the car park which worried my poor friend.  Iain had been up to Church Door Buttress the previous day, putting a track in and checking a potential new plum line out.  So I could feel a sense of urgency as it was clearly an obvious target for any other team ahead.  I was hopeful for a mellow day out as I had been suffering from a minor sniffle so beasting it up to the top of Bidean was not first on my agenda.  Anyway, the snowline was reached and the gap between us grew.  On arrival into the corrie, Greg and Uisdean were met.  After some discussion, we ended flaking our ropes out below the obvious Ice fall.  Anyway, a wee bit of shitty ice would be two easy for those two weapons ;-).

Diamond Buttress and Church Door Buttress

So I was sent up the first pitch which was pretty straightforward. A tricky little pull to get off the ground and another tricky few pulls to get onto the belay ledge. 

The Line of  'Gates of Paradise'

Me on Pitch 1 (Photo: Iain Small)

After some ‘uping’ and ‘downing’, Iain asked me if I could maybe shift my belay off to the side a bit.  ‘For fuck sake’ sprang to mind.  Part of the belay was out of reach so you know the script.  Tied off figure of 8’s, ropes flaked over me, lanyards, big thick belay gloves…  To be fair, he wasn’t too keen on pulling out some pretty hard moves directly above me.  Neither was I too keen, but still, what an inconvenience.  So for the next two hours, I had a shitty hanging stance on a slope foot hold and well not much for the other.  But I won’t dwell on it.

Iain following pitch 1

Iain put in a superb lead.  After leaving the belay he managed to step left onto a little ledge on the arête.  Conveniently Ice had formed down the left side, so he quested off up, muttering something about having never climbed Ice on an arête before.  ‘Rather you than me pal’ was what I thought.  ‘Just remember to keep that rope nice and tight when I follow I shouted up’.  ‘What?’ was his reply….my request was lost in the rising wind.  There isn’t much more to say really.  Iain got up to the roof, got a good cluster of kit, and eventually committed to a strenuous sequence of moves to gain the ice.  And off he went.  Cleary I was in a rage seconding.  The weather was pish, lanyards, all over the place and blunt picks.  But really good climbing.  Hard winter only ground at its best! Oh yes, and before I forget, Iain named it 'Gates of Paradise' VIII,8.  Iain gave Simon Richarson his account which is a lot more proper.  It can be read on Scottish Winter.

Iain committed on pitch 2 

Iain pulling through the roof and gaining the ice.

Guy Steven was gagging to get out climbing but was unable to leave early.  Iain was on route to a wedding, so was looking for a casual day out.  I was in the middle trying to cater for all.  Easy, a 3 pitch mixed route on Beinn Eighe would suite.  So a relaxed start.  It was by far the best walk in ever.  Snowline half way up with fairly consolidated snow, plus the sun was shining.  Bliss.  However, on top was a different story.  Pretty strong easterly made mobility pretty tough. 

Needles in the face.  (Photo: Iain Small)

It was a relief to get into the shelter of corrie but that had its own issues.  Setting off a few little slides of windslab kept me alert.  Eastern Ramparts looked more acceptable than Far East Wall.  So we settled for ‘Pale Rider VIII,9’.  Its a summer E1 climbed by Martin Moran and Robin Thomas a few years ago.  You can read Martin’s account here.  (Look for Feb 5th 2010).

2 clueless school boys beneath Eastern Ramparts (Iain Small)

Iain on pitch 1

Now, we all know that Iain Small is the best Scottish winter climber in the world.  Its just a fact.  His foot work is immaculate.  But I just had to add this photo of Guys.  It just highlights that even the best grovel on their knees ;-)

Iain's feet, my face.  (Photo: Guy Steven)

With an easterly forecast, that usually means the west is bone dry.  The BBC app on my phone showed full suns for the west coast villages so Am Fasgadh seemed like an obvious choice.  So Mhairi, Andrew and myself quested over enjoying the stunning winter scenery.  Yes, I have done these routes numerous times before, but it’s a great place just to exercise the fingers and arms.  The air temperature was just perfect.  I find it quite satisfying to have a winter day out one day and tick Black Sox 7C+ the next.  I don’t know why, but it just is.  Andrew decided to start trying a new link up of routes.  I was not going to bother but was pushed into trying.  3 red points later I was struggling to get off the ground, elbows touching the skye.  A good day. 

Andrew (Photo: Mhairi Stewart)

Me on Black Sox (Photo: Mhairi Stewart)

Mhairi working the 'Warm Up'

On the drive home, the ache of a winter days out followed by a day of raw power on crimps crept in.  The idea of some mellow bouldering at Torridon the next day seemed a fitting finale to the weekend.  Richie Betts was there acting as the local guide.  For each failed attempt on Malcs for Duncan and myself, Rich would just through another lap, Dick! 

Mhairi on Squelch

Its was not always sunny and perfect.  There was some shit moments.  (Photo: Richie Betts)

Me opening an account with Phoenix Nights. Get Stronger was the learning point of that day.  (Photo: Richie Betts) 

Today, the weather is shit.  I have turned to Ella Woordwards cook book. 

Peanut Butter Flapjacks,  Gold!

West Central Wall

 Andy arrived at my belay.  How depressing for him.  There he joined two rock jocks standing in the dark, too tight to put their head torch’s on whilst mumbling and grumbling about winter.  “That was steep, fun and positive” was his greeting.  “Good, you can take us to the top” was my response.  And off he went, with a little skip in his step.

The day started with wallowing around in knee deep snow, in the dark, with usual negative questions being asked inside my head.  But experience tells me, the painful slog up the relentless slope normally pays off.  After gearing up in the col, there was a silent agreement that West Central Wall was the venue for the day.  The standard inspection of the wall was made from the top of Central Buttress.  Since Iain had joined Andy and Me, he was nominated to rap into the abyss first and scare the sleeping West Central Wall monsters away.  Someone has left some well extended tat from the top anchor so there were no issues (since there normally is) with retrieving our ropes.  Shoot The Breeze (IX,8) had been on all our tick lists, so that seemed like the most suitable objective.  Having done a fair amount of mixed climbing on Beinn Eighe’s steep quartzite myself, I guess I was intrigued to climb it and compare it with the other routes.

Andy walking with a cool sunrise behind.

Andy volunteered himself to get the ball rolling, so quested off up the initial pitch.  A short while later he was at the belay.  Folk who have read my wintery blogs in the past will be well aware, I hate seconding.  But a new pet hate of mine is seconding behind someone else.  Everytime I looked up, I would get a face full of snow from Iain who was doing a good job kicking it in my direction.  Knowing Iain, this was not intentional.  Or maybe it was? Hmmm.  A few steep pulls later, I arrived at a little ledge below Iain and Andy.  There wasn’t any space for me on Andy’s ledge so I was asked if I could stay on my little footledge with an overhanging right wall which pushed me out into the void.  “Eh, no.  Fuck that.”  So I grovelled my way, up and left to a bigger ledge off to the side.  A much more suitable ledge for an impatient Murdoch.  Here I could walk around, do press ups, star jumps, dead hangs.  I was quite content for the next 2 hours.

Iain and Myself following pitch 1. (Andy Inglis)

Happy!  (Andy Inglis)

Iain was on for pitch 2.  This sounded quite exciting as it followed the big arête above and was described as being ‘bold’ in places.  Iain despatched this in good style.  After confirming the description several times at the point of which you commit to the arete, he did.  Iain kept it steady and worked his way up the arête for a while until a little footledge took him left into the groove and down climb to the belay.  A pretty airy pitch I thought.  Once you gain the arête, I guess the intimidated leader may feel the urge to take a few steps left into the easier groove of Blood Sweat and Frozen Tears.

Iain on pitch 2.

Iain high up on the wild arete.

Looking up at pitch 3, it looked rather wild and athletic. I was just hoping that there was going to be some decent tool placements and good gear along the way.  After faffing about at the belay and avoiding pissing on the coiled ropes, I set off.  I was instantly in a cluster fuck.  Iain had put 2 runners in the groove to protect his down climb to the belay.  So these acted like a mini top rope for me to get stood up again on the foot ledge.  My beloved lanyards were tangled all over the place, so a few naughty comments were made. Once, I was on it properly and leading, a switch was flicked.  I was in my element.  Steep, physical and wildly exposed climbing kept me focused.  There might have even been a few smiling moments.  The final bulge on the arête slowed me a bit.  The gear just never felt quite right.  Looking at my last solid pieces way below, I wasn’t fancying the airtime.  Arms becoming a bit pumped, foot holds in the wrong place, darkness creeping in,  I had a few words with myself to hurry up and just commit.  Eventually I did, praying that the flakes and wee bits off turf I was using were solid.

I forgot my chalkbag to tick the foot holds ;-) (Andy Inglis)

Me on pitch 3.  (Andy Inglis)

Done.  I sat back into my harness at the belay, glowing after doing such a cool route.  Shoot The Breeze is outrageous and I highly recommend it.  Hats off to Greg and Guy for opening this line up. 

The following Wednesday, Guy Steven and I headed back to West Central Wall.  Reading between the lines, Guy was wanting a training day ;-) so agreed to get on Bruised Violet (VIII,8) with me.  Now, I was quite keen to follow the line that Ian Parnell and Andy Turner took, and not the bold line that Bullock and Big Tim took.  So I spent a bit of time looking at a few topo’s and reading both descriptions to work it out.

Beinn a'Chearcaill

Guy on the second abseil.

Guy despatched the Chop Suey groove in no time at all.  I went on to lead pitch 2 which I found fairly intense in a few places.  You pull over a roof with not much feet, then need to commit up the groove a bit before some gear is found.  A tricky traverse right was actually ok.  It was just that typical feeling of leaving a good rest, knowing you were unable to reverse the moves back.  I guess falling off would have been a bit nasty as you would swing violently into the groove on your left.  Then there was the arête.  I thought it looked easy, but actually there was a lot more to it.  Pretty technical in places and just keeping in balance on some thin hooks and foot holds was tiring.

Guy following pitch 2

It was agreed between Guy and myself that I would lead the middle harder pitch’s.  Despite a pretty exposed semi hanging belay, our changeover was slick.  I think that’s because Guy is a superb MIC and a trainee Guide (a perfect partner!).  Parnell had suggested that pitch’s 3 & 4 should be linked together.  So I did.  Again, pretty wild strenuous climbing with good kit.  Guy led pitch 4 which was actually pretty hard.  You stand on this ledge with bomber gear up and right.  As much as the quartzite is fairly positive, here is wasn’t.  It was very compact and slopey.  You just had to find something shit to pull on, close your eyes and stand up on non-existent nicks in the rock to reach a chockstone.  Very insecure!

I have been a bit sad the last few days.  Recently I have read a few comments about some of the routes on Beinn Eighe being  "very poor climbing quality, no distinct line and very scrappy"  and “Supposed to be a classic according to the book, but I found it of mediocre moxed climbing quality”.  Also the long strenuous approach seemed to be an inconvenience.  I dare say there are moments of scrappy climbing, but that is part of Scottish winter mountaineering.  When an exceptionally strong dry tooling wad gets on a VI,7, then the mixed climbing quality is going to be far too easy.  I guess I am just looking at the strong line of chimneys on a cool crag.  If VI,7 was your limit, of course it would be ‘outrageous’!  And the approach, yes I moan about it.  But those of you that know me, I fucking love the suffering of flogging up it.  It’s what makes the climbing on Beinn Eighe or any other serious mountain more rewarding. 

Strawberries

Hanging in my harness, I felt sick.  My body was in shut down.  Sore head, sore throat, basically a little sniffle aka man flu, I should have been in my bed.  Instead I gave Strawberries an onsight/flash attempt. What a disaster.

Strawberries was already topic of conversation before Robin and I even reached the A9 (it only takes 5 minutes from the house).  When I lived in North Wales during 2012, I never quite got round to getting on the route.  Probably because climbing at Tremadog is hard.  I remember having a ‘V Day’ with Dave Rudkin and I was shocked at how hard the E4’s were.  Void warmed us up. Vulcan, I slipped off but did it ground up next go.  Vector was a welcome rest. Valor was no a push over. Vulture, how I never fell off in the fading light I will never know.  Dave kindly lead Venom and seconding that I only just managed.  After ‘V Day’, I only ever went back to Tremadog for work.

Dave Evans and Emma Tywford did Strawberries last year and that set my North Wales FOMO alarm bells off.  Convinced I would take time off work and go down, I never did and Scotland came up with the goods.  Then earlier this year, I noticed Tom Livingstone and Ed Booth ticked Strawberries and there was another resurgence in my FOMO.  I don’t know what the attraction is.  I guess its just one of these old school, hard iconic routes with lots of history for being notoriously hard to onsight that attracted me.  Binning our alpine plans for various reasons, Robin Thomas and I decided to go on a UK rock trip and cash in on the Indian summer.

Strawberries route description from the old guide.

Annoyingly, I woke up the day before our departure with a sore throat, head and body.  Anyway, I figured I would recover whilst we travelled south.  Warming up on the ‘Atomic Finger Flake/Void connection’ I was reminded of the Tremadog climbing Style.  Conveniently a climber from The Lakes was there top roping Strawberries.  I watched him for a bit.  He red pointed later with the lots of runners in place.  That played havoc with my mind.  Fuck, it must be hard.  I shied away not feeling on top form.  His comment to me was, ‘it’s hard, you just need to keep moving quickly on it’.  Robin encouraged me into having a shot.  So I did.  We rapped in and yes I kept my eyes shut. 

Leaving the belay, I could just feel the weight of the route on my shoulders.  Feeling nervous, flustered and clearing my nose; this not ideal preparation.  I fell off right at the start like a complete punter.  Just not feeling focused.  In retrospect, it was the best thing that could have happened.  It just blew all the nerves out of me.  Back to the belay, I pulled my ropes.  Back on,  this time I managed to get up to the top of the crack.  Looking down I had 10 runners in place.  Once I found a poor resting position, Robin commented on how pretty my quickdraw display looked.  Clawing desperately to stay on, I attempted to make the moves left.  I fell off.  I was wasted with nothing left to give.  A ground up siege was not part of my plan as a weak visiting climber on holiday.  If I lived local, things might be different.  Pulling back on, I sussed out the next few moves.  I saw a bomber walnut 1 slot but was unable to place it so I fell back onto my last piece of gear.  Sitting there, I prepared a quickdraw with a walnut 1.  Back up, eyeballing the slot I managed to get the quickdraw off my harness, place the wire then get both hands grasping the quickdraw.  There was no way I was clipping off that left arm.  It was totally fucked.  Clearly, I was at the crux of the route.  Working it out, I got to the top.  Rapping it to get the gear out, I didn’t know what to make of it.  Will I bother?

We had an active rest day bouldering in the Pass, doing ‘Pretty Girls Make Graves’ and walking about with a big rucksack.  Robin had been keen for Pretty Girls.  Despite telling me he was too weak and unfit, he walked up it.  Back to Tremadog the following day, Robin lowered me into Strawberries.  I had to work out the crack and decide what gear to place and not place.  It felt desperate despite managing to climb it the other day.  The sun came out, so we went off and Robin decided to battle with the ‘Groove of Horror’.  Not a route to try in the baking heat.  Back to Strawberries in the shade, I top roped it twice cleanly.  Fuck!  I might as well give it a shot.  Sitting on top of the crag whilst Robin rapped in to construct a belay, I had my head in my hands.  Sore throat, sore skin, a little cough.  I went into negative psyche.  But I had to give it a shot.

Robin bouldering at the Cromlech Boulders

Robin cruising up Pretty Girls Make Graves

Leaving the belay, I was instantly pumped and a shaking mess.  I seriously did not want to be there.  I got some gear sorted then reversed to the belay.  Then off I went, the whole way up I was shaking, messing hand sequences, I could hear the advice from the Lakes bloke ‘….. you just need to keep moving quickly on it’.  So I did.  What a mistake.  An absolute mistake!  I kept moving, never shaking out.  This is not how I climb.  I managed to climb up the crack, move left do the crux and chuck with my left hand for the edge and off I went.  Airborne, I greeted Robin who was suddenly next to me.  Ripping a flapper out of my finger and darkness just round the corner, enough was enough.  Rain all day on Wednesday meant an enforced rest day.  We had a cup of tea in the Caban which shafted my bank account.  But that’s another blog post in itself.

Robin on 'Groove of Horror'

Flapper

Thursday, I felt better.  Fresh skin, good sleep and my little sniffle on its way out.  What could go wrong?  Everything was wet.  Lowering into Strawberries, the whole crux was soaking.  My heart sank.  Chalking and brushing the holds, I just made a mess.  However, feeling fresh I climbed the crux each time despite wet holds.  Then I top roped it from the start and it felt fine.  Psychologically I just couldn't get on it with a soaking crux.  Robin suggest stuffing my t shirt somewhere to absorb the moisture.  So I did. Thankfully my cold meant my pockets were filled with tissues for blowing my nose.  So they got stuffed into all the little cracks.  A bit more chalking and a bit more brushing, things suddenly began to improve.  Then the sun appeared.  For once I worshipped the sun.  However, this was not helping Robin and his attempt at Vulture.

Sub- optimal conditions on Vulture

Being lowered in, the crux had dried.  A flicker of psyche was ignited in me.  This time I had the pressure of an audience, Tim Neill and his clients.  Oh well.  At the belay I went through the routine of going up, placed some kit and reversed.  I suddenly felt too warm and sweaty.  I had a thin base layer on as a replacement for my t shirt.  I had to take it off.  I hate climbing with my top off.  It just feels wrong.  I only have water pistols to show off.  No guns, but needs must.  So off I went, this time a steady approach.  Doing what I'm good at, moving steady, placing good gear rather than chucking it in, chalking up and shaking out.  At the top of the crack, I paused, slowed things down.  Listening to myself rather than advice was key.  The crux felt piss.  I topped out and looked round.  I could see Tim and his group sat there shielding their eyes.  I was blinding them as the sun was reflecting off my white Scottish tan.  I think there was a comment made somewhere that I was a week early for Halloween.  We decided to finish the day off with ‘Venom’.  I followed Robin who casually walked up it... I still found it desperate.

Me gaining the good edge after the crux (Photo: Tim Neill)

...on the easy ground.  (Photo: Tim Neill)

I’m pretty happy with what happened.  I gave Strawberries a good onsight/flash attempt, took the whipper and then dispatched it.  So it came pretty quickly.  I got my money’s worth.  Onsighting it would have been crap as you wouldn’t get the full value of the route.  The lob was better than topping out.  What a ride!  Thanks to big Tim for the photo's.  Whilst writing this post, I came across this UKC article by Jack Geldard and an interview with Steve McClure by Duncan Campbell.  Worth a read if you're bored.  But if you can't be arsed reading, Here is a video of Steve McClure discussing the route after his onsight of the route.

This is my account of Strawberries.  That was only one route out of many others which Robin and I did on our trip.  What a laugh we had.  I like to see I'm not the only one that grumbles about the price of going to cafe's and what a waste of money it is.  I can’t thank him enough for his patience in belaying me as trad climbing can be a bit off a faff sometimes.

The Force

Most days last winter, Andy Inglis and I would chat on Facebook. We mainly talked about winter conditions, What’s ‘in’, where’s the freezing level and all that shit.  Sometimes Andy asked me what I’d been up to that day.  My usual reply was, ‘F8b training’.  That meant I was usually out bouldering or down at the wall pissing about with no idea what I was doing.  Training for what though? I had no focus, just keeping on top of rock fitness whilst the winter sucked my little strength away.  One day I might need to pull hard on rock. 

Myself getting weak on Beinn Eighe. (Photo: John Orr)

Myself  not getting weak at Ruthven.

Andrew Wilby established a sport route called ‘The Force’ at Zed Buttress a few years ago.   He occasionally mentioned that I should go and have look at it.  I paid the crag a visit when only 3 lines existed back in April 2013.  Since then, I have always just been distracted by other things; Keeping fit at other sport crags, fiddling shitty wires into cracks or swing tools into frozen turf.  This spring I went back to repeat some of the routes.  On Saturday 28th March 2015, I was introduced to ‘The Force’ by Andrew.  I managed to do the moves in isolation, but they all felt totally ridiculous.  Most were at my absolute limit.  The crux involved throwing for a tiny 3 finger sharp edge.  Oh and you were pulling like fuck with your left hand on a razor crimp and your feet were on nothing. I left the crag with mixed feelings and 2 bleeding finger tips. Hmm.

Andrew Wilby working 'The Force' back in 2013.

A few months passed, summer was due to arrive, but instead the wet and windy autumn arrived.  Enough moaning about the crap summer.  However, these crap conditions were actually pretty good for sport climbing and bouldering.  So I returned to Zed buttress in August.  This time, I teamed up with the Cunningham squad and Rhys Langlands.  Calum and I messed about on ‘The Force’.  Things felt marginally better than my previous visit, but not by much.  Another kick in the balls was seeing how comfortable Calum looked on the route.  It was evident he would do this next visit. However it was still at my limit.  I ran away to Ruthven that evening and tried Blair’s traverse.  Stupidly I pulled on at the ‘Square Jug’, and went from there to the finish.  My best link ever, but why did I not pull on from the start which is just a few moves to the left?  Useless.

Reading through my diary, it is evident that ‘The Force’ actually came together pretty quickly.  I was making good links on it and it never felt too far away.  However, I was noticing a few issues holding me back.  A: Flexibility, B:  Being too tall for the bunched moves & C: Generally just weak.  Not wanting to go into too much details on the moves as that would be painful reading, there is a very high step for your left foot once you stick the crux.  Now, I noticed Andrew and Calum pissed that move.  Why, well they are shorter with less leg getting in the way plus they are three times as strong but I tried to ignore that.  So I started moaning to everyone that I was too tall for the route.  I’ve always noticed that Mhairi has incredible flexibility.  Having been a gymnast for 10 years, she in my eyes is a wad.  So, she seemed like the ideal flexibility coach for me.  After the initial shock of seeing how much of a punter I am, she managed to compose her laughter and give me a few stretches to help me improve my hip and leg flexibility.  It worked. 

Inspiration...

My trend of improvement was generally positive.  My only really negative red points were when conditions were crap, ie 9^th September with Pete Clarkson when the sun was shining, there was no wind and it was 24 degrees Celsius in Inverness.  Yet, I still blamed myself for being crap and weak.

Folk who read my blog will be aware that I had a trip to the Lakes at the start of September.  If you actually remember what I wrote, I made a significant link the day before I left which weighed on my mind the whole week whilst I fiddled wires in cracks.  I came back and was actually better on the route.  (NB, time away from projects is key…I’ll never learn though)   

The day after Gaz and Sarah’s wedding, Mhairi and I went up to Zed again.  A Nice sunny day with a stiff breeze, but I had to be patient for the shade when I knew conditions would be mint.  I chuckled to myself when the crowds all left at dinner time.    I couldn’t understand why they leave when the friction became perfect.  However, they had they last laugh.  Mhairi went for a red point on ‘Power of Resin’.  Just as she was getting ready, the wind just stopped. Like, it just stopped.  The midges just exploded and a perfect day turned into hell.  I shouted at Mhairi to just get to the top by any means, the alarm bells were sounding.  We were in the red.  I still had my quickdraws in ‘The Force’.  So I went for a cheeky red point.  I might as well…  So with a careless attitude, I set off.  Up to the undercuts, feeling a tad tired, I started shaking out.  Then I moved on, stuck the crux then made the next move or two.  The feeling of frustration for not ploughing on got to me.  So I demanded to come down, rest, then go again.  I arrived on the ground.  The midges became the least of my worries.  I had Mhairi to deal with.  I had shouted at her to hurry up on her red point.  Now I am going to make her wait another half an hour whilst I rest and most likely fall off with red point nerves.  Well, we kissed and made up and yes, I fell off below my high point.

Poor resting conditions.  Warm, humid and midges. (Photo: Mhairi Stewart)

Pete and I arranged a day out.  I had been moaning a lot that ‘The Force’ was destroying me.  Skin, fingers but more mentally.  I was resting all the time and my focus had shifted from trad climbing to this bloody route.  So I decided to see how it would go, then re-evaluate the situation.  To cut a long story short I basically climbed the route, fumbling the first jug after the hard climbing.  Maybe it was our school boy chat and shit jokes that took my mind off it between attempts.  So I left that day feeling like it was ‘back on’.

My next outing was with Dave Macleod.  In a nut shell, I never did it.  My excuses this time were it was too warm and my left arm was still ballocksed from my previous session there with Pete.  I was made to feel better by Dave taking a few red points to climb it.  But to be fair, he had been on his board all week and his ankle is still tender from an operation.  I was interested to see his tactic of climbing up to the third clip, clip it and reverse to the ground.  I can see the logic in this by saving energy.  However, I wasn't really convinced.  I sort of feel as though if one is climbing they should be clipping the clips on the way.  Admittedly I did take a 'step' off the ground and clip the second quick draw and step back.  In my head that is a bit different as for me it is a ‘step’ off the ground where as by the time you get to the 3^rd, you're climbing the route. It’s climbing at the end of the day and I only lost one night’s sleep thinking about it. 

Then high pressure pushed in.  Full on sun and little wind.  Summer had eventually arrived.  For fuck sake! I did chance it and go up really early before work one day but that was a mistake.  I did cash in on the good weather and climbed with Iain in Glen Coe and Glen Nevis over 3 days.  I did struggle to relax as I only had one route in mind.  Splitting a tip on ‘The Handren Effect’ was not a laughing matter.

Iain practising the moves on his bold E8.  

With an alpine trip looming (which is now aborted) my days were numbered. I had only one day left to try it.  Looking at a synoptic chart, the unsettled weather was due to return.  Thank God.  Friday was the day and I had it off!  I met up with Dave again.  There was a small issue of young Rhys breaking the hold you clip the third quickdraw.  This played havoc with my mind.  The third clip issue was talked about.  I managed to solve the problem by boning harder on what was left of the hold.  4 red points later I was resting on the jug after the hard climbing.  I even made some technical errors but pulled through.  Composing myself, I still had the tricky finish to deal with, but that went fine.

As always, the journey has far more interesting stories rather than the destination.  My ascent has absolutely no significance in the world of climbing.  There are some folk out there that would use ‘The Force’ as a decent route to find the crag.  However, for me it is a fairly significant part of my climbing career.  The route is everything I am crap at.  It’s short, hard and bouldery.  Not long with pumpy climbing relying on endurance.  Trying to juggle psyche/FOMO for trad, winter, sport, hill walking and half arsed enthusiasm for bouldering, it means a lot.  A few folk I need acknowledge for holding my rope: Andrew, Pete, Mhairi, Paul, Gaz, Blair and Dave.

Its nice to move freely in the hills rather then hang and rage on a rope...

Anyway, its young Calum Cunningham and Rhys Langland who’s ascents were far more impressive.  They both despatched it quickly at such a young age.  Well, maybe Calum is over the hill at the age of 18 as Rhys is only 14 (A short film can be found by clicking this link).  Zed buttress has definitely been the fashionable place to hang out this year.  This has only been made possible by Andrew Wilby.  He has spent a huge amount of his own time hanging on a rope cleaning and bolting the crag.  Along with the cost of bolts, resin and drill parts…. And that’s just one crag he has developed!

Sociable place. (Photo:Rocpunks)

And its all thanks to this man.  Andrew re working the route so he can complete the new direct finish.

The Lakes, Round Two

The word F*ck echoed around Strathnairn on the evening before I departed for the Lake District.  Sticking the crux and making the next move, I fell off.  At least I planted my flag a bit higher on ’The Force’.  I had kept a week clear in my diary so I could escape Scotland and remember what trad climbing was.  However, this just felt a total inconvenience as my psyche was to climb ‘The Force’.  Oh well, a week of ledge shuffling in The Lakes will give my fingers a rest.

Ledge shuffling, rest, The Lakes…. I should have learnt my lesson from last time.  These routes aren’t given away.  Iain sent me up ‘The Gates of Delerium’ at Ravens crag to kick things off.  Linking the two pitchs, I collapsed at the belay feeling rather taxed for an E4.  Nothing like a good slap in the face to wake me up for a week here.

The Gates of Delerium.  (Photo; Iain Small)

Me on Das Kapital (Photo: Iain Small)

Tony on Second Coming  (Photo: Iain Small)

Iain on Peels of Laughter  (Photo: Tony Stone)

Dove Crag was the number one venue in my list with ‘Vlad the Impailer E7’ being the next thing for me to try.  The description for the route is pretty involved.  It basically gives you all the gear beta.  Combining that that with Iain’s extensive gear knowledge of the crag, I thought it would be easy!  I can’t really remember much about it.  I almost dropped it gaining the niche where you place a rock 1, but managed to compose myself.  Got to the crux and made the moves to the niche, then fell off.  I’m blaming seepage out of the little crack below but to be honest, I was pretty pumped ;-).  Down, pulled my ropes and I jumped back on after a rest.  Got past the crux and got into the funky niche.  Not many holds there but somehow I managed not to fall off and get myself up and out to the easier ground above.  Phew!

Me in red on Vlad.  Some dude with green trousers on the HVS.  looks grim.  I much rather be boxed out ma face than climbing the mossy slabs.  (Photo: Iain Small)

Passing showers forecast, Dove was the obvious choice as it would stay dry.  Next up was ‘Dusk till Dawn E7’.  This required a bit more effort than Vlad.  After some ‘uping’ and ‘downing’ on the bold start, I eventually committed to the technical sequence.  Reaching the crucial kit, I managed to quickly arrange it.  With poor feet, all I had to do was pull hard and make a big move to the jugs above.  However, I was too hesitant.  I hung on, searching for footholds, hoping a little foot ledge would pop out.  No, just shitty little irregularities.  So in typical Murdoch style, I waited till my arms were totally gone, the tried to commit.  Surprise surprise, I fell off.  Down, pulled my ropes, I jumped back on and made the move.  Feeling more confident and fresh, I tried to relax and enjoy the climbing above.  The next minute, I was flying through the air with a block in my hands.  Same as before, down, pulled the ropes and back on.  This time I am near the top.  Misreading the terrain above thinking there would be some better holds on this ledge, I found myself pumping out trying to hold the sloping ledge.  Elbows touching the sky, there was nothing left.  The powerful moves left denied me.  Oh well, working out what to do I carried on to the top.  Rapped the route cleaning the gear out, I felt pretty disheartened.  I really should have been flashing this.  So for the next few hours belaying Iain, I was beating myself up inside.  Time marched on, passing showers, the light begins to fade. Iain raps his route and cleans the gear out.  I glance at my watch when he reaches the ground.  I know it’s time to go.  Any normal person would.  It’s cold, windy, the odd passing shower with little more than an hour of day light left.  Deep down, I knew I couldn't leave.  Knowing I would not get the opportunity to be back this year, I sheepishly asked ‘would you mind if I gave Dusk another burn?’  Waiting for a ‘No’, I got nothing but encouragement from Iain.  A rapid de rack from him and rack up from me, I remind myself, ‘it’s just a pumpy F7c at the end of the day’.  I guess this is where chucking a finally lap of Goat Prow at the end of a day pays off.  Before I knew it, I was at the top of the route re threading my ropes at the anchors.  Boom.

Rappimg off Dusk till Dawn.  Not a slab. (Photo: Iain Small)

A major tick of the week was meeting the local Lakeland wad, Dave Birkett and his wife Mary and new born May.  They were having a casual day out at Reecastle.  I was keen for ‘Penial Servitude E5’.  Having red pointed ‘Hells Wall E6’ earlier in the day, feeling a bit weary from the previous 3 days and Dave and Mary watching, the odds were stacked against me.  Well I got up it onsight/flash (I knew about the rp2) by the skin of my teeth.

Hells Wall.(Photo: Some dude)

I had to leave on the Friday as I had a First Aid refresher at the weekend back home.  A complete pain in the arse but never mind.  Before I left though, I cashed in by doing 'Trilogy E5' and 'RnS Special E5' at Ravens crag in Langdale.  Trilogy certainly warmed me up and focused the mind.  I had heard a few comments about RnS Special.  Folk saying it’s pretty bold and more like E6.  I don’t know, hard to tell really.  I thought it was ok, but at the same time I never wanted to test the ride down the crag.

RnS Special (Photo: Iain Small)

Just in case you wanted to know, the First Aid course was fine.  Saturday was bearable as I needed a rest.  Sunday killed me as the weather was mint.  Moan moan moan grumble grumble grumble.

Thanks to Iain for a great trip.  He also supplied a lot of photo's for this post as my camera battery died at the start of the trip (I had not means of charging it).