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Taffey New Year

The post Christmas gluttony ended with a phone call from Stuart, Wales had ice and snow, a rare condition that couldn't be passed up. After cashing in my last brownie points we were heading north, snow covered the land all the way to the Ynys ettws hut in the Llanberis valley. Inside was warm and the other occupants were a sociable lot, unfortunately they informed us the water was frozen so a hot shower was out of the question. Water had to be sourced from the near by stream which seemed to double as the resident sheep's toilet. After exchanging pleasantries Stuarts culinary skills were brought into play and I was quickly banished from the kitchen to await the great feast of rice and pheasant, washed down with a rather nice red of unknown origin. We then settled down by the fire to plan the following days activities ably assisted by a bottle of Drambuie, after sorting our kit we turned in around midnight.

Half way through my first cup of coffee at 5.30 am I began to feel rather queer, and proceeded to throw up last nights meal into the sink, much to Stuarts amusement, after another cup stayed down, we headed off with an extra passenger whom we dropped off en route, as he headed off to Snowdon to ski down the railway line we arrive at the Ogwen cottage car park as it starts to get light. Snow and ice cover all but the steepest of rock our chosen route the ramp in the devils kitchen area is supposed to be one of the best grade 3 ice climbs in north Wales.

Stuart leads the first pitch over a mixture of frozen turf and short bands of steep ice for about 45 m to a small ice cave, at the belay we exchange gear and I manage to climb over Stuart without stabbing him with my crampons and begin thrashing my up to a fat icicle that offers an ideal sling thread a few meters higher and in goes my first ice screw, my hangover a distant memory, as I look for my next axe placement with a reassuring thud it bites deep into the ice, kicking new toe holds and standing up, the angle eases almost too soon, I'm moving over the last bit of frozen grass to the belay ledge where a large boulder offers the perfect anchor. Stuart quickly joins me and we solo out over easy ground finishing an outstanding climb. On the descent we stop to chat with several climbers and we realize that all the good climbs have climbers on them and the queues were growing by the minute, so with some regret we call it a day and head off to Llanberis for well earned pints of tea and probably the worlds largest chip butties at Pete's eats, shortly after Stuart is buying a rather fetching bra top and matching pants after spending far too much time in the ladies section of Joe Brown's shop.

Day two has us up around 6 and heading for Sergants gulley, in reasonably calm weather unfortunately the expected bad weather turned up early and within two hours the wind was lashing us with snow and ice, during a brief lull I stopped to put on an extra jumper but as soon as I took my jacket off a gust of wind covered me in snow which then melted leaving me shivering in the cold. Shortly after, we met another climber descending who informed us that things were worse on the ridge so with no sign of the weather improving we returned to the hut for hot drinks and dry clothes once again Wales sends us home early but there will be a next time.

Dave

Valentine's Day 2001

Several days were spent establishing exactly who would be my partner for this special sunny day in February. This included approaching two Marks (one was having furniture delivered, the other, most commendably, had to be back early to be with his Mrs) and Angie (who by some strange quirk was actually working that day) and tackling Sarah's mum, who was adamant that Sarah would be working and could not be persuaded to do otherwise. Eventually I contacted Derek, who, on a rare visit to this country, was more than happy to come out to play at a moment's notice.

Portland was the obvious choice at this time of year, and we hatched a plan that would ensure maximum warmth at all stages. This started with a fry-up in the Sugar Loaf café in Easton (a useful venue that opens early except on Sundays). I'd always fancied pottering around on the big boulders at the foot of Blacknor edge, on the western side of Portland. Being detached and some way from the main cliff, most of the routes get the sun early, so we started here by ticking a couple of extremely pleasant slabby six bolt severes (Fallen Slab and Arete). An ideal place to try leading with an easy approach, its by the sea for an added sort of sea cliff experience, and there's more of the same a bit further along the boulder beach. Next up was a harder offering round the corner which hadn't quite warmed up - neither had I, so a fairly desperate chilly struggle ensued on what turned out to be one of those "sportingly" bolted routes you encounter now and again (Le Cranium Casse, 6a+, but felt E2). By this time the sun was on the main edge, so we moved back up the slope to tick off Well Done Poppet (4) and Do Ixtlan (5), both done in T-shirts, basking in the Spring-like sunshine.

As usual with Portland, its easy to move between crags, so on we went to Battleship to round the day off with what I knew was the easiest and friendliest 6a around - Pinch an Inch - slightly off vertical jug pulling, with good friction, bolts up your proverbial and a huge double handed jug to clip the lower-off. What more can you ask for from a bolt route? It also just about counts as E1 which may come in useful when finalising the "E" total at the end of what promises to be fairly dismal year - sad git or what!

Not particularly prolific route-wise, but we both sat in the late afternoon sunshine, reflecting on one of those special days snatched from nothing - hardly anyone about, warm rock, calm sea and a good start to the season. Winter is probably the best time of year to climb on Portland and it is quite possible to climb at your limit all year round, especially if you choose your crags carefully. Valentine's Day is always a good bet if you want it quiet, and thinking back, Mother's Day isn't bad if you only climb at weekends! (NOT TO BE READ BY DIANNE)

Rupert

Exploits on the Frozen Stuff

Thirty metres up a frozen waterfall desperately trying to fix an ice screw and looking vertically down at your partner between your legs makes you realise why you opted for another ice climbing trip to the Canadian Rockies. It must be the adrenaline, or perhaps it's the breathtaking scenery, or perhaps it is simply the high number of quality routes unrivalled elsewhere in the world. John (Temple) and I went last year and left so many classic routes unticked that we simply had to make a return visit. This year Steve (Humphries) took the lure as well, and Alex, a friend from Mera Peak days, also joined us.

As usual we started on some of the shorter climbs, choosing Johnson Canyon and Haffner Creek to expose the uninitiated to the steep Canadian ice. Not to say that these presented no difficulties, since there are free-standing pillars, fragile chandeliers and overhanging Swords of Damocles even in these more friendly venues. Moreover, they sometimes fall down, as a group of squaddies demonstrated when they demolished the pillar that I had just climbed. OK so it had a crack in it already, but they didn't have to kick the hell out of it! It was on these less serious climbs that Steve realised he needed technical crampons (John and I knew better and had them already), and Alex realised that he needed more technical axes (John and I had these already as well). Alex also needed technical crampons, but like us last year he manfully struggled on with his Grivel 2Fs, after deciding that his budget was distinctly limited.

For the first of many multi-pitched routes we selected Lady Killer*** (80m, III, 3). It wasn't grade 3, of course, more like grade 4, and this seemed to set the trend for all of the climbs that we did this year. Something to do with the low preseason rain/snow fall and the extreme temperatures (down to -30oC and rarely approaching zero for the first ten days), but I am sure that meteorologists could explain it better. Bad news for the skiers though since what little snow existed was poorly bonded to the frozen base layer. Still, we were climbing and a dearth of snow meant less avalanche hazard, unless of course we migrated into the alpine zones. Due to a little misunderstanding of the terrain (and John was with us so not down to me this time!) we bushwhacked our way to Lady Killer rather than taking the direct route up the valley. A 15 minute walk in became an hour and a half, but it was worth it and we did get there first. Since we had taken a 'unique' route the second party were quite surprised to find me half way up the first pitch when they arrived, but that's why we were getting up at some ungodly hour.

Bow Falls*** (95m, III, 3/4) was the next major objective. Normally this remote fall would have been inaccessible without skis, but low snowfall meant that we could break trail without physically disappearing in deep drifts. Nevertheless, poor consolidation at the head of the lake meant wet feet for a few of us (almost unbelievable considering the low temperature) and we still sank up to our thighs in places. Crawling over the wet bits was the best technique, however inelegant this may look. Even though the walk in took 2 hours it was worth it to be belayed beneath these impressive falls. Climbing with Steve I led the first steep pitch to the right, then there was Dave Roughley (yes him again) and his friend Larry and then John and Alex. Another group took the far left-hand line. Falling ice was a problem with so many groups so close together but, apart from John trying to encourage me to move off the ice onto the rocks (probably E5 and not an option), this was a great 50m pitch. Steve then led through on the natural line above on very steep, smooth ice. It looked impressive and I could see his face between his legs as he climbed. High in the grade this must have been approaching grade 5. The others edged off to the left to take the obvious scoop leading to the top. Arriving on the top was superb; the whole mountain panorama unfolding behind and an impressive view over the Ice Fields Parkway in front. After abseiling off we retraced our steps to get back to our cars just as darkness fell. A truly magnificent day, and one that would be hard to beat.

After Bow Falls we needed an easier day so we selected Panther Falls* (60m, II, 3). By the time we arrived another group from our party was backing off, which left the falls free for us. OK so the right hand portion had parted company with the rock face and was lying in a chaotic heap at our feet, and you could hear rushing water behind, but the rest looked solid enough. Again I took the right-hand line, traversing delicately under the missing bit (which still had higher vestiges), and then belaying beneath the constriction where running water was both visible and audible beneath a foot or more of clear ice. After carefully placing the ice screws so as not to penetrate the water flow, Steve followed up and led the next pitch to the car park. Meanwhile John and Alex had taken a more leftwards line to join us at the same (only) belay. This must be one of the easier icefalls to get to and only one of two where we walked down to the start, rather than up.

Lady Wilson's Cleavage*** (300m III, 2), probably chosen more for the connotations of its name than anything else, was our next choice. The guidebook claims it as grade 3, but it was really like a Scottish snow gully with intervals of soloable grade 2 ice. What it did have, however, was a brilliant icefall at the top, known as Wilson Major* (50m, III, 4/5). Steve led the first steep pitch and I completed the manoeuvre to get to an uncomfortable position in the trees. John and Alex climbed to a tree on our left from which we made the abseil into the gully proper before the start of our return.

Next came the pièce de la résistance, the Weeping Wall*** (160m, II, 4/5), the best known ice climb in Canada. Fortunately we were the first to arrive (just) and chose the left-hand side. John and Alex took a line a little to our left. After leading the first steep pitch we were bombarded from above by the group climbing supposedly to our right. It was also extremely cold on the exposed wall. Steve led the second steep pitch and I followed with the third pitch to a small cave just above where Alex was furtively burrowing for his own belay. The fourth and fifth pitches kept up the same level of intensity as those that had come before and we were beginning to realise why this particular climb had been accorded the number one status in Canada. Topping out brought us, after several hours, to the small track leading to the abseil points and the relatively rapid descent to our 'sacks. This route is recommended to any passing that way, but be sure to get there early since ice travelling from up to 160m directly above can be dangerous, if not lethal.

Following the hard day on Weeping Wall we moved north for Bridal Veil Falls* (110m, III, 3/4), which lies close to Panther Falls. Being extremely cold the ice on these falls was very hard and I found getting screws in the first pitch difficult. Accumulated tiredness was probably not helping either. To some extent, however, we could understand why several other groups had retreated from the first pitch. John and Alex were running a line to our right and it was not long before we completed the second pitch and were all at the top and preparing for the abseil descent.

There was some debate about our next climb, but after briefly reviewing Green Gully we opted for the more accommodating Essondale Right*** (120m, III, 5). A guided group had beaten us to this route so we were continuously bombarded by ice from above. Eventually Alex and I sought refuge in an ice cave at the top of pitch 1 while Steve and John led the second pitch. Interestingly the guided party were also complaining about being bombed as they descended, and using rather colourful language too, but it looked no worse than what we had experienced from their ascent earlier. This next pitch was clearly a challenge to Steve, but as I suppose generally happens when seconding, the line I took seemed fine, even though the chandeliers were a trifle fragile. A third excellent pitch took us to the abseil point to complete this classic route. Under normal conditions there would be a left-hand variant to this route, but in its present state this was a mixed, if not suicidal, climb.

Following a recommendation we chose the long drive to Gibraltar Wall*** (145m, II, 4) as our next route. This involved an exciting 27 km drive in a standard saloon along an unmetalled logging road laden with heavy snow, and there were mutterings from the front about not wishing/being able to leave the tramlines made by the loggers. As expected, the road was deserted and the drive was an adventure in it's own right. Moreover, the climb was a magnificent sustained grade 4 icefall with good belays and excellent ice. Being in the warm sun for one of the few occasions was also a delight and it was one of the rare times when neither Steve nor I complained about frozen feet or hands. The view south to snow capped mountains could not be faulted either.

The next day was a fun day when John and I climbed Rogan's Gully* (300m, II, 2), while Steve and Alex climbed Cascade Waterfall*** (300m, III, 3). Our climb was an adventure in route finding, while Steve and Alex followed the obvious line of ice. How John and I missed the gully completely remains a mystery, but it was soon clear that we had traversed too far, and on rather dodgy steep ground at that. Still we eventually fell (almost literally) into the gully and thenceforth had a pleasant outing reminiscent of those in the Scottish hills. A key difference, however, was that it was clear and sunny, a rarity in the UK. We did have deep powder snow and the spindrift common to Scottish gullys, which made for an interesting foray. We also had a short, steep top pitch of water ice, for which we roped up.

But all of this was building up to a new experience. John and I had heard a lot about the Ghost region south of Canmore, which was only accessible by 4x4. So biting the bullet we hired yet another car for the day, a rather new model that was probably never going to be the same again by the time we were finished with it. Having picked up our 'guides' we initially decided to try a slightly different region called Waiparous Creek, although there seemed to be some doubt about the way in. After the lead vehicle made an ungainly four wheel slide into a culvert a decision was made to revert to the Ghost region, but we needed to dig first. After hectic activity with snow shovels, and bridge building antics with fallen branches we eventually retrieved the second 4x4 and we were on our way again. This time it was Steve (alias Stirling) who tried a four wheel lift on our vehicle, making the wheels somewhat superfluous for forward, or indeed any, locomotion. Shovel time again, this time to get the wheels back on terra firma. This done we then met another group in trouble and helped to bail them out. Just as well really since immediately afterwards our guide decided 'to show us how it was done' and planted his car axle deep in the river bed. With the nose pointing skywards this was not going to be so easy. More shovelling (this time with additional helpers), more branches, and a four man lift using decidedly rotten timber eventually released the vehicle like a cork from a bottle and we were off again. No more troubles now, although I am glad that it was not my car that was being driven along river beds, over river banks and through enormous potholes. We ended up in front of The Good the Bad and the Ugly** (45m, II, 4/5), a terrific flow right by the side of the car. With the sun on the ice it was a little damp (euphemism for sopping wet) and I made a real mistake by leading the steeper right hand side without my waterproofs for the first time this trip. But it was exciting and the pitch maintained it's grip right up until the belay. Steve then led on the left where John and Alex had climbed earlier and we finished off with The Indifferent (40m, II, 3) before running out of time.

The drive out also had its tense moments as the intrepid 'Stirling' failed to make the bank taking us out of the river on his first attempt. We all looked out thinking that it might be time for a swim, but the canny ace made the second attempt and managed to keep at least three wheels on solid ground for the rest of the trip home. This was the end of Steve's and my trip, although John and Alex remained for longer to see other parts of Canada. The question is with all this excitement in store will we go back again another year?

Derek 13th March 2001

Eddie and Adrian's Winter Hols – Feb 2001,
Or
Half a Green Wall Direct.

Long-range weather forecasting has always baffled me. A week before our long scheduled trip to Scotland, half of the country disappeared under huge amounts of snow. Two days later, most of it melted in a thaw. On Wednesday, a deep depression (mine) was setting in. On Thursday, heading for the highest bit sounded like a reasonable option and so at 9pm on Thursday evening, Eddie and I set off for the Ben in my mother-in-law's car (it was a diesel, you see, cheap-cheap-zoom-zoom).

4.15 on Friday morning saw us bump into the golf course car park in Fort William. On with the tea (courtesy of my excitable antique stove), a quick change and one cup of tea for Eddie and me, and one cup of tea for the boot of the car. 5.30am found us walking over the world's wettest golf course and 5.45 had us miserably looking for the path through the trees, which was hiding from us in the dark. Then a long slog up the Allt a' Mhuilinn ('Suffer, English dog!') as dawn came up to reveal snow-plastered mountains, blue skies and a solid freeze.

A plan had been hatching for 20 years (a plan of which Eddie knew little). Point Five Gully! How about that for ice climb number five for you Eddie! We sweated heavily, but didn't quite catch the people who started walking at 4.30. We got to the foot of Point Five (V, 5) at 9am: a twelve hour approach is not good for the constitution.

We waited and followed all three of them for the rest of the day. We took our turn on the first two hard ice pitches, which were fabulous. Pitch 2 had a wild chimney with all manner of junk pouring down it courtesy of the trio above. My eyes froze shut, my nips went lumb, but traditional hack, batter and scrape seemed to have worked by the time I could see again. Speech returned rather later.

Pitch 3 had a steep snow and ice groove that overhung. OK, peg out to the right, ice screw over there (one of Eddie's nice new shiny ones), bridge up, axe in……Rip! Down a foot, EEK! Look down to check the gear and see that the ropes loop inwards to it. Hush my beating heart! OK, not much choice now. Bridge out, Egyptian (Yes, Egyptian!) Reach over, pray, thunk! thunk! Oh thank you God, perfect ice, up and away!

We then settled down to a sporting afternoon of bombardment from above. Eventually, the gully widened out and the ice became plasterboard over bottomless powder, formed by rain earlier in the week. Easy to climb, but unsettling as it went 'Boom' and shook with every blow. At last, the top, after a long traverse to avoid the cornice, just as the sun went down. Head torches, compass bearings and off to the Allt a' Mhuilinn (I'll get you on the way back, English dog!'), and back to the car at 9pm.

On Saturday we were not a pretty sight. 75% incapacitation really. What with sleep deprivation, over exertion and severe bruising to knees, ankles, elbows, shoulders and most other parts. (Ha! Ha! English dog!'). Nevisport café, bump into old friends, climbing wall to stretch a bit, and a gentle stroll up Glen Nevis for a rest cure. Apparently, according to the sign, this path is dangerous and has killed people. As the North Face of the Ben has no such sign, it must be safer. So there you have it: high risk extreme sport – Glen Nevis riverside path; easy day for families with small children – Point Five Gully.

Sunday was cloudy, but saw us out of the door of Glen Nevis Youth Hostel at 5.45 for the tourist track up the Ben. Big mistake, far too steep for us in our pitiful condition. Still we held our own with the competition, of which at least 30 were hiding from the wind by the CIC hut. Most routes had people heading for them, so we settled for Green Gully, Grade IV, 4, first done in 1906. Eddie's first Grade IV lead ('Stoatin' Stuff,' as they say up there). Nice and leisurely, half the length of Point Five. Back to the hostel, where Attila the Hen lay in wait!

'See you, Jimmy! Nae heavy boots in the Hostel of a morning, d'ye ken!'

'Oops, sorry, Oh Mighty One'.

'Aye, well mind ye dinna forget now. Away wi' ye!' If the Allt a' Mhuilinn doesn't get you, the warden will!

Monday had a belting forecast, so off to the North Face Car Park (more native friendly than the golf course), and The Auld Enemy, the Allt a' Mhuilinn ('Not learnt your lesson yet, English dog!'). More blue skies and a route spied the other day – Hadrian's Wall Direct V, 5 (or 'Adrian's Wall – apparently I have more Aitches than Eddie).

The first pitch was superb and huge, rather more huge than the ropes and the belay was abandoned to give a bit more slack. This was a wide, open face with a big sheet of ice running down it, all bulges and attitude. I ran out of Eddie's nice shiny new screws and my old tatty one and kept two for the belay, which meant a vast run out in the end. The struggle to do up a loose crampon strap half way up on near vertical ice was sobering. The belay was even more sobering. A foot ledge, two well placed axes and two screws, which lifted out by hand. Eddie led through: changing over didn't bear thinking about. Up to a vertical chimney which gave superb climbing and a bit of variety, and then on to more hundreds of feet of perfect first time placements. Then more plasterboard, some truly awful belays, some mashed potato cornice and the top.

A fabulous route, with superb views of Tower Ridge, Point Five (and its nine occupants) and us with a thousand foot wall all to ourselves. Then a thousand foot glissade down the Red Burn and the Allt a' Mhuilinn ('Oh hello, English dog!').

Tuesday was warm and rainy and dreich. So we went home via the Kendal Wall. Apathy ruled now: how could a wall compete after the most famous gully in the world as Eddie's fifth ice route, a fulfilled twenty year ambition to do Point Five, and Hadrian's Wall and Green Gully, all in perfect condition?

Adrian.

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