Ill Concieved Plans Poorly executed

EGCC Newsletter Thirty Two

Three Old Men and a Lad

It's 5.30 a.m. and we're sitting in the car at the foot of the Cobbler in Arrochar wondering whether the rain will hold off, when wet stuff dropping from the sky convinces us that it this is unlikely. A change of plan; we will have breakfast in the Alex MacIntyre Hut and rethink the day's activities. No chance on the Etive slabs in these conditions, so we head off east towards Newtonmore, where the weatherman says it will be drier. Indeed it was, and we spent a pleasant few hours climbing on Craig Dubh before continuing the drive to Assynt. An overnight camp and the Western Buttress Route (90m, D) of Stac Pollaidh is next on the menu. This fine mountaineering route allowed plenty of free choice and it was not long before John Temple, Rob and myself were traversing the crenelated summit ridge and hurrying back down to the car.

More driving and we are now at Lochinver, cooking our evening meal by the war memorial before beginning our walk in to the Suileag bothy. An early start the next day as we stash our surplus gear and make for the west buttress of Suilven. Another superb route, and one that taxed even John's legendary route finding skills as we wandered to and fro on what was supposed to be Rose Route (140m, S). Well, I suppose that we did climb a bit of the described route (even repeating the difficult bit twice when there was disagreement over the way up!). Nevertheless, we topped out in fine form and again traversed the magnificent summit ridge before descending from the central col. By general agreement there is no better way of climbing Suilven, although others might choose a more direct ascent of the west buttress.

Further north now and we are in a position to tackle the Old Man (of Stoer, of course). Strangely, nobody wants to volunteer to swim the 10m channel to the sea stack to set up the Tyrolean traverse; so guess who gets the job? It's cold and there is a moderate swell as I take the plunge and beach out on the other side. Fortunately I'm sheltered from the wind since it seems to take an age (not only seems, it did!) before the rucksack is on my side and I can get dressed. Luckily I took a swimsuit, so I was not forced to stand in the altogether for 15 minutes. John and Rob have the luxury of the Tyrolean, but only having two climbing ropes with us (a BIG mistake) we have to dismantle it to climb.

We have an audience as I start the initial traverse to the stance on the south side of the stack, and when the others join me John leads on. After a short ascent he traverses back to belay on the landward side. Me again, and it's the crux pitch. Not really too hard at HS, but the pro is rubbish and I gibber a bit before getting into a position where I can clip some bomber gear (left by an earlier party). I'm off again, this time making an ascending traverse back to the south side (I quite like this side since it's in the sun!), and then an easy overhang to the cave belay. The resident fulmer was none too happy at my intrusion, but fortunately he didn't gob his (or her) gut contents on me and moved aside when I politely told him to bugger off. John's turn to traverse the arete again and to belay on the landward side some 40m below the summit. The subsequent 'V' chimney was fairly straightforward and led via a series of breaks to the abseil point. Lots of gear left here as I help myself to a couple of good crabs before topping out on the airy summit. Was that a cheer from the onlookers? I'm not sure, but later we find out that photos have been taken and that if we ask we might get copies. Minutes later the others are also on top and we are assembling the abseil. John goes first and takes an age. A salutary lesson he told me afterwards, since a 50m freefall abseil is not the time to find out that the ropes are inextricably knotted! However, we get down safely and now all we have to do is get off the island. The tide has gone out since we arrived 5 hours earlier, but a considerable swell (up to 3m) has built up. Rob, who 'volunteered' to swim back, now has second thoughts. I can't say that I blamed him, as the waves were severely pounding the landward rocks and a certain amount of skin was likely to be lost, if nothing worse. The conditions brought back memories of desperate penguins trying to land in stormy Antarctic seas. Instead we traversed over some newly exposed rocks and Rob managed to judge the swell so that he could leap frog an otherwise submerged rock and then clamber onto the mainland – an interesting feat, and I was surprised that he stayed upright. We reset the Tyrolean and during a moment of timely calm I slide across with relative ease. John, however, decides to choose a rough period while he drags across the 'sack, and gets a thorough dousing for his troubles.

Back on dry land we are all agreed that this is a five star climb; with excitement, variety, sound rock, and free gear to boot. What more could one ask?

Before leaving Northwest Scotland we visited the sea cliffs at Sheigra where we were fortunate to be given a photocopy of the relevant guidebook pages (but I suggest buying a guidebook well in advance to be sure). We planned to camp on the primitive beach site here, so it was only a short walk to the climbs. As always, finding the first climb was the most difficult, but afterwards we had plenty to do on the north face of the first geo (inlet) and had an enjoyable day.

With inclement weather approaching we retreated south to the Lakes, climbing on Buckstone How (Honister) and Raven Crag (Langdale) before returning home for a well-earned rest.

Derek 27th May 2000

Lake Wanaka NZ

The backpacker is full of the extremely scruffy, extremely young and extremely thin, there must be climbing!!! A visit to the local info centre and we have a guide "pamphlett" . A rope and gear are hired at $21 per day, thats 6 pounds in real money, and we are on the imaginatively named "Roadside crag". It is at least 20 feet from the unsealed track they call a road.

A mix of bolted and natural pro routes. It is Sunday (the weekend) and we climb for a couple of hours in magnificent scenery without seeing another soul.

This looks easy, what is grade 18? Er perhaps we should move along and try another!!! Is this "Strawberry" or " Elvis crashes the car"?. Whatever, the rock has good friction, the sun shines and Lynne leads us to the top. This is a good place to be.

We move to the next crag, the Alcove. Very committing and nearly verticle we take turns to crack the route.Finally, exhausted we manage an honourable retreat with all our gear intact. Still nobody around we walk around Lake Diamond with stunning views over the lake to the distant mountains and finally home to Boysenberry pie.

Tommorrow fishing.

Lynne and Harv

Aiguille d'Argentiére

Its April and Nick and I are off ski touring again in the Alps. This time the weather is literally crap. A quick visit to the Chamonix Meteorological Office confirms what we already knew, but adds the fact that the poor weather emanates from Portugal and that even the Pyrenees is having a bad time. So much for the alternative of going to the Ecrin or Bernese Oberland instead, we will just have to stick it out in the Chamonix Ski Station dortoire. Still there are lots of young Swedish girls here so life is not too unpleasant. After several short days piste skiing, the occasional half day ski tour and numerous expeditions to the climbing shops, the weather eventually improves. One of the key objectives is the Aiguille d'Argentiére (3,902m) on the true right hand side of the Argentiére Glacier, but we opt for a few days of further acclimatisation at the Refuge de Conscrits near Les Contamines. Here we traversed the DÔmes de Miage (3,673m) and climbed the Aiguille de la Bérangére (3,425m), both in superb conditions.

A few days later and the Aiguille d'Argentiére beckons. The forecast looks good and its all systems go. We get an early cable car to the top station of the Grands Montets and carefully make a descending traverse to the Argentiére Glacier. No problems here and we easily avoid the large crevasses en route. On the glacier floor we then ascend to just below the Refuge d'Argentiére. From here the route ascends the Glacier du Milieu, with the serac bands easily skirted on the left. At about two-thirds height we meet the deep and impressive bergshrund, where it is time to abandon skis. More competent skiers carry their skis from here so that they can ski down from just below the summit, but those of more modest ability (i.e. us) tend to continue up and down from here on foot. Front pointing was the order of the day, and about 400m of it at that, but 4.5 hours after leaving the Grands Montets we are on the summit admiring the extensive views. Dominant are the Aiguille Verte and the Dru (both still on our hit list), Mont Dolent (climbed last year) and, of course, Mont Blanc and its satellites (climbed several years ago).

But the snow is getting slushy and its time to descend. Crampon balling is a continuous pain, so its front pointing to descend as well. Added to this we have to watch for descending skiers, but they are good and give us plenty of clearance. Back at the skis we are on easier terrain, about 30 degrees, and even my skiing ability can now just about cope. Needless to say there is the odd bum plant, but what do you expect? Once on the Argentiére Glacier there is a little polling to be done before rejoining the Grands Montets pistes and the cable car back to the valley. But its quick and the entire journey has only taken 7 hours to reach a peak only marginally below the magic 4,000m and requiring over 1,400m of vertical ascent.

Derek 28th April 2000