Exploits of an ordinary climber

The winter has finally arrived and along with delayed trains, cold walks to the station and a snotty nose it also means that the Lake District has come into condition for some early season winter climbing. On Saturday Ed picked me up in his van for an early drive over to the north Lakes. Our goal was a winter traverse of the classic summer scramble, Sharp Edge & Halls Fell Ridge on Blencathra. We parked up and set off around 10am and made quick progress up the tourist path to the base of Sharp Edge. After gearing up we pushed on up the ridge, finding good frozen turf and lots of powder. We were first up that day which meant the route was in alpine condition with long snow aretes formed along the ridge between hoar covered buttresses.

We topped out in limited visibility at around midday and made our way over to the summit where we picked up the top of Halls Fell Ridge and started our descent. As we made our way down the visibility improved and we were treated to stunning views out across towards Great Dodd and the Helvellyn ridge.

We made it back to the van at around 2pm and headed into Needle Sports in Keswick to find out the latest news on conditions and work out a plan for the following day. Given the amount of snow and the state of the turf we decided we would head to Gable Crag to attempt Pinnacle Ridge so we drove down to Seathwaite and got the van set up for the evening. Gourmet chef Poulter provided the food then we set our alarms and got our heads down early. While Ed slept like a baby, I learned the hard way where three season sleeping bags get their name as I shivered through the night.

Sunday morning dawned clear and bright but soon gave way to some light snow as we donned our headtorches and started the walk into Gable Crag via Sour Milk Ghyll and Green Gable summit, breaking trail through the fresh powder. We got our crampons on in Windy Gap and traversed round to the foot of the route where we spent some time finding the best way onto the route.

Ed took pitch one and quickly made his way to the belay via some steep turfy ledges. Pitch two was straightforward in terms of climbing but I didn't find a single piece of gear in 50m of climbing. The weather and climbing both improved as the route continued and by the time Ed had lead pitch three to the belay beneath the Pinnacle, we had beautiful panoramic views back across the snow covered Lakes. Pitch four was the crux and the most fun pitch with huge exposure looking down from the pinnacle. Luckily there was plenty of gear and we soon topped out onto the summit plateau in strong winds.

It's a new year so it seems like the right time to dust off the keyboard and start blogging again. 2014 was a slow year for climbing but a busy year for everything else. Kirsty and I got married, got new jobs and moved to Burley in Wharfedale; nestled on the outskirts of the Yorkshire Dales in the heart of Yorkshire gritstone. No more driving for hours on end at the weekend, adventure is now on our doorstep.

Once our new year hangovers had subsided Ali and Hannah made a visit on their way back from Norfolk to Aberdeen and we headed into Horton in Ribblesdale for a wander around the Dales. With limited daylight we decided to walk up Ingleborough and Whernside, two of the three hills that make up the classic Yorkshire Three Peaks round. The dusting of snow that had fallen over Christmas was gone but the winds on the top were bitter and Kirsty's fingers did their party trick of turning yellow. We hurried down to escape the worst of the weather and stopped for a look at Ribblesdale Viaduct before heading to the pub to get warmed up.

On Sunday the forecast was looking much more stable so Ed and I drove down to the peaks to meet up with Pat at Stanage. It was a perfect winter climbing day with clear blue skies and almost no wind so we got straight onto the plantation boulders. The friction was incredible and we worked our way around a number of the easier problems before heading over to the Wall End Slab area.

Pat picked up the rack and ropes from the car and I lead the classic Wall End Slab before Pat took the lead for the scary direct variation. The climbing was amazing with hundreds of paragliders zooming along the edge, picking up thermals coming off the rock. We also heard a loud cheers as GB youngster Billy Ridal climbed the stunning arete of Careless Torque, possibly the most impressive looking line on grit.

We finished off on the lone boulder with mixed success before heading back to the car to pick up our running gear. Once changed we took off along the top of the edge for a quick run to the far end of the crag as the sun set across the valley - a picturesque end to an incredible day's climbing.

Winter's short days and bitter weather make it hard to find the motivation (and partners) for getting away climbing at the weekend. Fortunately, Joe has now finished his officer training and is always game for an adventure. When he told me he was in London this weekend, I convinced him to join me in Shoreditch, the hipster capital of the UK, for a spot of Urban Bouldering. 

Fun times over, bank balance depleted, time to get back to work. There's never a good time to do admin when you're busy planning your next climbing trip, which meant I returned to London faced with a lot to catch up on. I didn't manage to get out climbing again until early October when Les and I managed to sneak in a day at the Roaches, while Kirsty and her Mum went to a wedding fair in Birmingham. Les is currently training for his Climbing Wall Award so was happy to do a day practising top rope and abseil set ups before we finished up with a quick lead of Black Velvet.

Les testing out my releasable abseil

The rest of October was busy with the wedding venue hunt starting in earnest, so I wasn't able to get out again until my SPA assessment in November. After such an enjoyable training, I had booked in with Joby Davis again to get my assessment completed. We met on a grim and misty Monday morning in the Roaches Tea Room and spent some time going over log books before we finally plucked up the courage to leave the log fire and head out into the clag. The plan for day one was to look at access rules and land ownership before hiking up to the top of the crag to run through top rope set ups and our personal abseil. Everything seemed to take a long time and numb hands and wet feet were not helping matters. Fortunately everything I did seemed to be safe, so I finished up and went home feeling mixed about my chances of passing. I needed to show I could be slicker on day two.

After a comfortable night in Hartington Hall Youth Hostel, I drove over to Wirksworth to meet the others to run through indoor wall safety. After a quick discussion, we got back in our cars and headed in convoy to Harborough Rocks, to get on with the remaining tasks. As the weather had been so poor the previous day we still needed to do our personal lead climbing. We had to lead a severe standard climb and I somehow ended up with a bit of a sandbag severe (given HS on UKC), which was a short overhanging hand/finger crack. I managed to dispatch it fairly comfortably and felt I had given a good show of myself, so I moved on to bottom rope set ups feeling more confident. As we were the first pair to finish leading we also got the pick of the spots for bottom ropes, so I managed to breeze this section too. The area I found had a couple of huge bouldery spikes so I could rig up twin bottom ropes with just a few slings and carabiners, easy! Last up was the releasable abseil, for which I also found a couple of good areas, and before I knew it, the assessment was over.

Working an awkward releasable abseil under the watchful eye of Nick

Standing and waiting for my turn to speak to Nick (Joby's assistant instructor) I felt very nervous. Day two had gone well so I was hopeful I had done enough. Nick gave me a good run down of the two days and was particularly complimentary on my lead gear placement. Most importantly he told me I had passed. I was officially a qualified climbing instructor, fantastic.

Just in case you didn't believe me, check out my official geek badge!

Since passing SPA I've only managed to get out once, making use of some unseasonable weather to take a trip down to Swanage with Kirsty. As it was our first time there we stuck to one of the friendlier crags and did a few routes on Subluminal, nestled under the famous Swanage lighthouse. The crag is truly a sun trap and we spent most of the day climbing in tshirts, I'm definitely keen to get back again and try some of the harder routes in the near future.

Following a pretty successful French road trip I was off to Wales for the next twelve days. First up was five days doing my Mountain Leader Award training with Paul Poole. We had an awesome week despite some mixed weather; I learnt a huge amount and met some great people. What made the trip even better was meeting up with Stu again who was staying up in Wales for a few months to get his ready for his MIA assessment. Pretty much every evening after training I managed to get out climbing, the highlight of which was probably soloing Gashed Crag on the east side of Tryfan with Stu in a mad evening dash. We managed to do the round trip to and from the camp site in two hours where a lot of people make a full day of it. 

Stu finding the way on a beautiful evening solo of Gashed Crag

After finishing up my ML training on Friday I packed up my camp and made my way west to Tremadog where I was meeting Pat and Ed that evening. Pat arrived about 9pm and we grabbed head torches for a quick night time solo of Oberon on Craig Bwlch y Moch. We arrived back in camp in time to meet Ed, grab a beer and think about a plan for the following day.

With high winds and rain forecast, we decided to head up to the slate mines above Llanberis and attempt a wet ascent of the now infamous Snakes, Ladders and Tunnels. Rather than a climb it would be best described as an adventure obstacle course roaming its way through the mines and eventually spitting you out at the far side, wetter, dirtier and happier than when you went in. An honourable mention goes to Pat for leading the horrendous chain pitch, rather him than me!

Pat getting some aid climbing action on the chain of doom

Rocking the explorer look

Abseiling into the lost world

Sunday brought a better forecast so we hopped over to Anglesey to have a go at possibly the most famous line in the UK, A Dream of White Horses, made famous by Leo Dickinson's photo of Ed Drummond on the first ascent. With a fairly high swell we opted for the "niche" start which gives three rising traverse pitches across the cliff. Pat took the first pitch and Ed the second which left me with the much photographed final pitch that winds its way over the impressive zawn. We topped out without any major issues but with massive grins. It was one of the most incredible pieces of climbing I've done and one that will stay in my memory for a long time. 

Pat cruising pitch one of Dream

Ed on pitch two

The final pitch

Ed had to head back to Yorkshire after Dream, but we had some daylight remaining, so Pat and I went back to have a go at Bitomartis, a gently overhanging, juggy route on the same area of Gogarth. As soon as we abseiled in, we realised we had a problem. The start of the route involved down-climbing, then traversing a short way to meet the line, before heading up the cliff. Unfortunately, the area where we had to traverse was just being caught by the top of the waves. Pat forged on nonetheless and managed to get established with only a minor spraying, but as he climbed I realised that the tide was coming in fairly rapidly and the traverse was now getting pounded by the odd larger wave. My brain was starting to work overtime...

"Shit"

"SHIT"

"SHIT SHIT SHIT!"

"Ooh look, a seal"

"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

Luckily Pat was in turbo mode and soon called me through, at which point I stood poised, waiting for a lull in the waves before sprinting across the sopping traverse and climbing out of harm's way. Giving the seal a quick wave goodbye, I finished up the soaring flakes to the belay, before getting on the sharp end to finish the route. Disaster averted, it was time to bail back to the camp site for hot food and a celebratory beer.

Still on a high from Gogarth, the next day we decided to stay at our base and climb on Craig Bwlch y Moch, the best known of the Tremadog crags. It was clear that we would struggle to top the previous day's adventure, but somehow we did. There were no epics, no incidents and no seals just a whole host of classic lines that I could never have dreamt of climbing a year previously. Pat lead the Plum, one of his life-long ticklist routes which, judging by his running, whooping commentary, was as good as he'd imagined, before I got to lead pitch 2 of the Fang. I had been looking at the Fang ever since my first Tremadog trip, when I was climbing One Step in the Clouds and saw a couple having a mega epic on the route. Finishing the route felt incredible, in that moment I really felt that I had progressed from being a punter to being a capable climber. We finished the day by getting onto Meshach, another classic Tremadog HVS before finishing on Grim Wall Direct where I managed to pick up my first Welsh E points by leading the first 5b pitch. Psyched was not the word, what an incredible day.

The infamous Mr B, crimptastic

For the final day of our Welsh extravaganza we decided to head into the Llanberis pass to the imposing Dinas Mot. First on the hit list was Diagonal, one of best know lines on the crag. I lead pitches 2 & 4, pitch two being best described as fucking terrifying. Poor gear, tiny footholds and long run outs meant I was pretty gripped by the time I finally made it to the belay. Pat dispatched pitch three and the last pitch was easy in comparison so we were soon following the path down to the foot of the crag ready to finish the trip with an ascent of Lorraine, a fairly easy VS on the left hand side of the buttress. After a bite to eat in Pete's Eats we said our farewells and hit the road back down south.

Pat, looking far happier than me on Diagonal. Check out the view down to Llanberis

Back in London, I took the opportunity to relax and prove to Kirsty that I still existed before heading up to the Peak District to meet up with Joe. I managed to get a day of SPA practise by taking some old Selwynites on a climbing taster day at Birchen Edge before Joe and I hit the road north in his (ahem) mean machine, towards our overnight stop just south of the Lake District. The next day we continued up to our first destination, the island of Arran off the west coast of Scotland. We were up early the following morning for the long walk in to Cir Mhor for our first route of the trip, the long, four star line of South Ridge Direct. This was another route I'd been wanting to do for a long time, but in this case I didn't feel it quite lived up to its reputation. The good pitches were superb and would be four star in their own right, however I did feel that there were a few too many "filler" pitches. I did enjoy the overall adventurous feel of such a long route but as is so often the case in Scotland, my overriding memory was the midges.

Joe on the South Ridge of Cir Mhor

At this point in the trip the weather gods finally gave up on us. Considering the luck I'd had during my time off I could hardly complain but after driving all the way to Skye we were met with nothing but rain and wind. After a couple of days being blown around we bailed and headed south to the Lake District in search of dry rock.

Back in the Lakes we had far better luck and got back to ticking the UK classics. First up was Troutdale Pinnacle Superdirect, the direct version of the climb I wrote about a long time ago in this blog post. After this, Joe got on the lead and climbed Donkey's Ears on Shepherd's Crag.

Joe on the crux of Donkey's Ears

The following day we took the steep walk in to Gimmer Crag in Langdale, one of my favourite Lake District spots. We started with another long term goal of mine and climbed Kipling Groove, probably the route I came closest to falling off during my trip. Joe lead Bracket and Slab, another of Gimmer's popular routes before we beat a hasty retreat back to Keswick for some much needed food (note to readers - if you want to go away with Joe make sure you keep him fed, you won't like him when he's hungry).

On day three in the lakes we decided to follow in the footsteps of climbing's pioneers and headed up to the Napes on the flanks of Great Gable. We started by climbing Napes Needle, to many the symbol of Lakeland climbing. We were clearly following in a hell of a lot of footsteps as any friction that may have existed on the rock was long gone, you could practically see your face in the footholds. After this we moved around the corner to Tophet Wall, another of the Lakes best know lines before a quick ascent of Innominate Crack on Kern Knots on the way back to the main path.

Beautiful views of Wasdale from Napes Needle

We finished our trip with a late start after spending three hours trying to find Joe's car keys (they were in the bin, obviously). We decided to head to one of the more esoteric classics found in the famous book Hard Rock, Praying Mantis on Goat Crags in Borrowdale. The difficulties of the route are concentrated in the first pitch which climbs a steep (and in our case, fairly damp) corner crack. It was here that I finally managed to outfox Joe and he angrily had to take a rest before meeting me at the belay. The rest of the route was plain sailing in comparison, if a little dirty, and after topping out we went on the hunt for a suitable abseil point to escape the crag top.

Joe abbing down from Innominate Crack

It's been a long time coming, but it turns out that when you take four months off work you don't have much time to write a blog, because you're far too busy having fun. So here goes, this is the highlights from Chamonix to my French road trip with Kirsty...

After my adventures in Yorkshire and the south west I headed to Chamonix for three weeks where the weather settled into a persistent pattern of thirty degree heat interspersed with heavy rain. Due to the large volume of snow up high, the first week involved a fair bit of sport climbing (which I'm begrudgingly starting to enjoy), an ascent of Contamine-Grisolle on Triangle du Tacul and some frustratingly mushy snow at the Albert Premiere hut. Sam and I also managed what was probably the highlight of the trip, climbing the Rebuffat Route on the south face of the Aiguille du Midi. I don't have any pretty pictures of the route, and that probably deserves an explanation, so here goes.

Plan for week 1 in Chamonix

1. Get acclimatised on some easy routes lower down

2. Get more acclimatised on some easy routes higher up

3. Get onto some harder routes higher up towards the end of week 1

4. Feel like legends 

Actual week 1 in Chamonix

1. Get overexcited

2. Get on a lift up to 3800m on day 1

3. Get on a route that is at the limit of your ability at sea level

4. Neglect to drink or eat anything

5. Neglect to put on sun cream

6. Find the final pitches covered in snow so take an alternative route

7. Accidentally climb your first E2, nearly shit myself

8. Start a very long series of abseils

9. Get your rope stuck twice

10. Get to the hut, look like you're going to cry

11. Feel ill (with a little bit of legend thrown in somewhere) 

Sam in the Cosmiques hut after our Rebuffat epic

I was partnerless for week 2 but fortunately there were plenty of keen climbers at the camp site and I hooked up with Neil to head back up Mont Blanc du Tacul via the Contamine-Mazeaud route after bailing off an avalanche prone Jager Couloir. I also met a bunch of Ali Baxter's Lairig buddies and got some hard (for me) sport climbing done in between rain showers.

Triangle du Tacul, Contamine-Grisolle heads (unsurprisingly for French speakers) up the left edge. Contamine Mazeaud takes the wide central snow and ice ramp.

For the final week I had arranged to hook up with Will, a friend from work, and we got on a bunch of classic routes including Y-Couloir on the Aiguille d'Argentiere, l'Index SE Ridge and the Voie Frison-Roche on Brevent. Special mention should go to Will's superb French speaking which made hitch hiking more enjoyable and far less excruciating than listening to Sam try to explain how much he liked pizza to a slightly terrified looking local.

On the summit of Aiguille d'Argenitere with Will after climbing Y-Couloir

After Chamonix I spent a week or so relaxing and catching up with Kirsty before packing the car and driving up to the Peak District for SPA training. I had two cracking days with Joby Davis teaching me how to dangle unsuspecting children from a cliff and also managed to get some good bouldering and climbing in with fellow trainees, including the classic three pocket slab at the Roaches and a bottled attempt at Commander Energy (which would have been my first E2) that I annoying top roped clean afterwards. I managed to pass training so was keen to get practising so I could get my assessment done before 2013 ended.

Top-rope fun at Harborough during SPA training - I have no idea what is going on with the other dude's full face helmet, so don't ask.

A couple of days later I was back to Staffordshire for a day out with Les (Kirsty's Dad). I'd previously lead Les on a few lower grade grit classics so we pushed the grade up a little up got onto some of the Roaches great S/HS routes on the Upper Buttress. Les also got back on the sharp end and lead Inverted Staircase which was great to see. I decided to utilise his good mood and asked him how he felt about having me as a son in law, he didn't seem too unhappy with it so long as Kirsty said yes and he could continue to use my rack!

Les leading on Inverted Staircase

With a secretly bought ring stashed away amongst our hastily packed camping gear, Kirsty and I got our trip under way, driving to the Champagne region of France via a couple of days of festival fun in Lewes. We spent a few days relaxing and scrubbing off the festival grime in a beautiful hunting lodge outside Epernay, before we continued south to Vallouise, nestled above Briançon in the Écrins national park. The plan was to go mountain biking for a day followed by a day hiking up to a hut and a nice easy alpine route. I was planning to propose on the summit surrounded by the beautiful mountains. I was nervous, but all was going to plan. That is, until kamikaze Kirsty was let loose on the bike and managed to remove a fair amount of skin from her knees, hands and elbows.

Ouch.

Numerous antiseptic wipes and a bottle of wine later I was looking for a plan B and it didn’t take much convincing for Kirsty to agree to head to the Verdon Gorge a little earlier than planned. It was frustrating to head to France’s premier multi-pitch climbing region and not get to climb but we did get to see some amazing landscape and more importantly I managed to pop the question and between tears I think she said yes. With that pressure off and Kirsty looking very happy we spent another day enjoying food and sun in Verdon before heading down to les Calanques on the south coast near Marseille.

Engaged - woohoo!

Les Calanques is a national park formed by a series of inlets along the coast. There is a huge amount of limestone climbing there but 36 degress is no temperature for being on the rock. We did try to get on one route done, but half way up we couldn’t stand staring at the people enjoying the cool water in the bay beneath us so we abseiled back to the beach and went for a dip instead. We didn't stay too long baking on the coast and were soon on our way to Orpierre via a quick stop in Marseille.

Hard to resist a swim!

In Orpierre we finally managed to get some climbing done, the highlight of which was probably Voyage, a large 6a multi-pitch sport route up an intimidating wall. Kirsty climbed brilliantly on the first four pitches, especially on the tough undercut 5c+ section (she made me write that). The final pitch was an amazing overhanging hand-crack corner, and despite a few tears and some choice expletives from Kirsty that could be heard down in the town square, we finished the route and abseiled back down the main face. We also managed some single pitch routes on the steeper walls above the town before getting thoroughly beaten at boule by a couple of Belgian children from the tent next door.

Looking down over Orpierre

The last few weeks have flashed by in a whirlwind of leaving drinks, long car journeys, camp sites, sun and rock. Before leaving work to begin four months of freedom I managed to squeeze in a quick trip down to Devon, staying with Joe at HMS Drake (which looked oddly like a building rather than a ship). The weather was crappy, but we still managed to get out and spent the first day battling the wind and rain on Haytor and Sheeps Tor. Sunday we headed to the Dewerstone and climbed the classic Central Groove, one of the best HS routes I’ve ever done.

The delicate, bouldery start to Vandal and Ann at Haytor

Joe, about to commit to the exposed final section of pitch one of Central Groove at the Dewerstone

The following weekend was rock free as we all headed down to Anna and Dyfan’s wedding. I’d love to tell you all about it but a) it’s not climbing related so isn’t in keeping with this blog’s theme and b) my memory of the evening is a little hazy. What I can say is that it was a brilliant day and Anna looked radiant.

Monday was my last day at work and I made a quick exit, heading back to Farnborough ahead of a few days in the Peaks with Kirsty’s dad, Les. First up we visited Stanage where we hit the low grade classics like Heaven Crack, Hollybush Crack and Flying Buttress then we moved over to Burbage North for the afternoon where Les lead his first trad climbs in fine style. After dropping Les at the station I drove back towards Stanage and camped up for the night at North Lees.

Les, getting the hang of leading at Burbage North

Wednesday I had organised to hook up with David who I’d met through UKC. We decided to head to Froggatt and got onto a number of classics including Hawk’s Nest Crack and Chequers Buttress which has been on my tick list for a long time and didn't disappoint. With poor weather closing in I hit the motorway back to London to get packed up and ready for a bank holiday trip down to Cornwall.

Once done with work on Friday, Kirsty and I picked up Lorna and joined the crush leaving the city for a sunny bank holiday weekend. The traffic was shocking and we finally rolled into Penzance youth hostel at 01:30 a little bleary eyed but ready to get going on Saturday. In the morning we sped over to Sennen to pitch our tent then met up with Joe at Bosigran and got on some of the classic routes on offer. The highlight was Doorpost, another brilliant HS that rivals Central Groove on the Dewerstone. We also got onto Anvil Chorus but some navigation issues meant we finished up the last pitches of Venusberg by accident before heading further up the crag to solo some of the easier classics like Alison’s Rib. That evening we went back to the campsite and met up with Sam, Ed, Kate, Reinhardt and Retha and had some tasty BBQ courtesy of Reinhardt's Braii skills.

Kirsty, all smiles on Doorpost

After sleeping off our meat feast and a few beers we were up reasonably early and headed back to Bosigran to make the most of the weather. Reinhardt and Retha both got tied in and had a go at climbing in the morning before a trip to St Ives. In the afternoon Kirsty and I soaked up the sun on Ledge Route before Sam, Ed and I finished up on Little Brown Jug, a brilliant three star classic with a spicy final pitch.

Leading up the final pitch of Little Brown Jug

The weather on Monday took a turn of the worse so we dedicated the majority of our time to sampling the fine array of cream teas on offer in Cornwall before making a late dash down to Sennen to catch some surf. We managed about an hour and a half before I realised I was no longer able to stand up as I couldn’t feel my hands or feet so we bailed to the pub to thaw out. With all extremities responding again we went back to the hostel to grab some food before dropping in at Ed and Kate’s cottage for an evening of beers and Jungle Speed.

Yum!

Sam and Lorna had headed back to the real world at this point so Joe and I made a third pilgrimage to Bosigran to take on the long stegosaurus like backbone of rock that forms Commando Ridge. With large swells battering the foot of the route we made a high traverse in and climbed an alternative start to meet the route at the third belay. The word of the day was “slick” and we tried to climb the route quickly and with minimum faff, managing the round trip in three hours. We met up with Kirsty then wandered back to the tent for a final evening before the long trip back home.

Once back, it was a quick turn around and two days at work for Kirsty before we were off again in the opposite direction, meeting Sam and Lorna at their family cottage in Askrigg, Yorkshire. We arrived late on Friday night and had a leisurely start before heading east for the Pen-y-Ghent fell race. With the amount of climbing I’ve been doing this year I’ve managed next to no cardio training so I was nervous about running again but the race went without too many problems and I finished in a respectable one hour and six minutes. Sam nearly went under an hour with an impressive run and the girls did brilliantly too.

Impressive finish from Mr T

Next morning was an early start, heading to Brimham rocks. We managed a few routes, mainly around the cubic block area, before driving back towards Ripon where we met up with Lorna’s parents so the others could get their lift home. I carried on to Caley for an afternoon of bouldering doing the awesome Otley Wall before ripping a chunk out of my finger on Bob’s Bastard and calling an early end to the evening. Feeling a little sore I decided to have a lazy day and spent most of the following morning reading my book in the sun before getting on some of the easier boulder problems at Ilkley. Later on that evening I met up with Ed and we decided on a trip up to Almscliff climbing several classics including Central Climb, an awesome jamming test piece, and a quick solo of Fluted Columns. Tuesday was another semi-rest day spent wandering around the Yorkshire countryside in the sun before joining Ed again and dashing over to Pen-y-Ghent for a go at the classic Red Pencil routes. We arrived on a glorious sunny evening and Ed got on the sharp end for Red Pencil Direct before if was my turn to tie on to have a go at Gladiator, the even more direct roof route above Red Pencil. We then got our fell shoes on and ran back to the car, Ed showing me how it’s done and leaving me pretty red faced!

Heading over the roof on Gladiator

Ed had the day off on Wednesday so we decided on a day trip to the Lake District, getting on the classic VS routes on Dow Crag in Coniston. Ed “kindly” let me lead the tougher pitches and we started on Eliminate ‘A’ a superb six pitch route winding an unlikely line through an imposing, steep buttress. After a loose scary descent we then crossed Easy Gully and got onto Murray’s Direct, a tougher VS with a poorly protected first pitch. Days out don’t get much better, two classic lines, amazing sunshine and almost nobody else on the crag.

Awesome exposure on the classic Eliminate 'A'

After a brilliant time staying with Ed and Kate, sampling Yorkshire’s finest, it was time to move my base to the Lakes and Thursday was spent lugging my gear to Patterdale, setting up camp in Glenridding. I took a quick stroll up Helvellyn on Thursday evening then settled down for the night to make sure I was up and awake to pick Kirsty, Sam and Lorna up from Penrith station the following morning. Unfortunately, while I was awake, my car wasn’t and I spent the next hour waiting for the RAC to arrive to sort out my failed battery. I didn’t make it to Penrith until lunchtime so we decided on a relaxing afternoon climbing on Brown Slabs at Shepherd’s Crag. I soloed a few of the easier routes while Sam and Kirsty both got on lead then finished up climbing Brown Slabs Crack with Sam. We drove on down to Seathwaite where we met up with Tom, Nic, Rick and Jess for food and drinks at the campsite before bedding down for the night. Joe arrived in the wee hours after an epic drive up from Plymouth.

Kirsty on Brown Slabs Arete

Saturday morning we packed up our bags and headed into the hills. We started with a scramble up Sour Milk Gill, taking a dip in the natural pool halfway up, before heading on to Gillercombe Buttress. From there we continued along the ridge to Green Gable, nipped up to the summit of Great Gable then headed down to Styhead Tarn where we camped for the evening. Unfortunately Kirsty had picked up a bug and was pretty sick so we didn’t get too much sleep. This also meant that she was unable to run in the great trail run that we were due to take part in the next morning.

Scrambling in Sour Milk Gully

Once every few years the stars align and we get the magical combination of sunny weather and bank holiday and the early May long weekend this year was just such a weekend. Kirsty and I had decided on a couple of days in the peaks, stopping over at North Lees campsite, but before we headed off there was some serious business to attend to, getting our skates on to celebrate Chris’s 30th birthday, ‘80s roller disco style.

The man, the legend

We awoke on Sunday morning a little groggy, with worrying flashbacks of multi-coloured lycra and posing pouches, and made a later than planned start up the M1. We stopped in at the campsite first and got our home for the night set up before heading up to Stanage just after lunchtime. Kirsty wasn’t really feeling the climbing vibe but it takes more than that to deter me so I stuck my rack and rope in the bag and I got some training by lugging it with me. We walked the length of the edge all the way down to Stanage End and back to High Neb where we got a couple of routes in before the evening.

Kirsty heading up High Neb Buttress

First up was High Neb Buttress, one of the classics of the edge and a climb I’d looked forward to for a while. Pat had climbed it recently and thought it disappointing and I’d have to agree. With such a range of climbs to choose from in Eastern Grit I was very surprised this made the top 50 list, I’d personally not even give it three stars. We got a few other easier routes done before Kirsty suggested I had a go at Jeepers Creepers. Feeling a little wiped out and not really up for it I wasn’t surprised to get spat out so I added it to my steadily growing list of roof cracks that I’ve been spanked by and escaped off onto the juggy severe finish instead. We escaped off to the pub in Hope for some dinner and a beer before settling down for the night back in the tent.

Some evening Stanage soloing

The following day I felt refreshed and we decided to head up to Bamford fairly early in an effort to beat the bank holiday crowds. We started up on Wrinkled Wall then moved onto my second ever E1, the Crease. As extreme ticks go, this is one of the easier ones, getting the grade due to the run out top section rather than the climbing difficulties. I arranged a handful of small gear and sprinted for the top then Kirsty made easy work on second to record her first ever E1 climb, a great start to the day.

Beautiful weather on Wrinkled Wall

Next up we move to the lower tier to take a look at Quien Sabe. There was already a route on Brown’s Crack which shares the start so, feeling psyched from the Crease, I opted to have a go at Nemme Pas Harry, a tougher E1 with a long 5b move to a shallow pocket. The climb went smoothly and I had my second E1 tick of the day (and third ever). Kirsty needed a little more help on this one but did an awesome job making short work of some of the tougher moves.

Glad to be alive on the Crease. Spot the long run out.

Long hours sat behind a desk lead to a lot of back and forth emails about climbing, mainly with Pat, my partner in daydreaming crime. Earlier this year we were chatting about how neither of us had been to the Roaches in a long time so a plan was hatched for a weekend on the western grit in April. By the time our planned weekend came around we had a motley crew assembled and Joe met us in London to take the final place in the pom-mobile alongside Kirsty, Sam and Lorna for the early Saturday drive to the peaks.

We arrived a little late and met Pat hanging around on the boulders beneath the lower tier. The classic climbs on the upper tier were all out of bounds due to the nesting peregrine falcons which meant that the lower tier was already pretty busy so we decided to head along to the skyline buttresses to start our day.

I paired up with Pat and took the first lead, heading up Condor Slab. Protection was pretty sparse and I was soon wishing I’d started on something a bit simpler, a lesson I never seem to learn. Once safely up it was over to Pat to up the ante and he decided to get onto Safety Net, a burly E1 with a tough bouldery start. Pat lead with no problems which left me to second up. It took me several attempts to get established on the juggy hold at the top of the start sequence, I was nowhere near warmed up enough and got flash pumped to hell. Nevertheless I managed to finish up and was very glad I was not on lead, another hard climb made to look very easy by Mr B!

Next up we moved further down the buttress and I lead the direct finish to Perched Block Arete before Pat got stuck into the meaty stuff on Thrug, a classic VS hand jamming fest. The climb looked so good that Pat abseiled the route to clean it so that I could also have a go on lead. Apart from some poor footwork entering the crack meaning I had to reverse a move, it all went smoothly and I got the tick. Sam and Joe looked intrigued so both of them had a bash on second, Sam continuing to refuse to have anything to do with jamming decided to layback the whole thing while Joe broke his jamming virginity along with the skin on his hands making an impressive effort and getting the route cleanly.

Having visited the thuggish side of grit on Thrug we hit the other end of the spectrum and Pat got onto Enigma Variation, a poorly protected E2 with very real ground fall potential. Needless to say he danced up it cleanly and I seconded up wondering how you get your head into the right frame of mind to smear up on tiny footholds with such a large fall below you. After that I soloed a couple of easy routes waiting for Joe and Kirsty to finish up so that I could get on the nice easy classic of Slab and Arete.

With the evening closing in we moved back down to the lower tier and got onto the uber classic Valkyrie, a climb I had been looking forward to ever since my first weekend lead climbing back in 2011. Sam very kindly offered me the lead on both pitches so I got on with the task in hand and soon enough found myself joined by Sam at the top of the first pitch ready to attack the infamous flake. The second pitch lived up to expectations and I managed to make the airy escape to the relative safety of the main face leaving a fair amount of skin behind on the way there. Due to poor rope work I got incredible amounts of drag and had to haul a huge bunch of slack just to finish the route but I topped out with a huge grin on my face having managed to get such an iconic route done cleanly. Sam followed up with little fuss and we headed back down to the camp site to set up before hitting the pub for a well earned beer and some dinner.

On Sunday we decided to make use of the peregrine falcons having relocated their nest and headed up to Hen Cloud. I partnered up with Kirsty and we opted for Central Climb. I thrutched up the bizarre first pitch offwidth but Kirsty wasn’t having much fun so I lowered her off and abseiled back down. Kirsty was keen to try leading so she teamed up with Wendy who had joined us for the day and got onto The Arete, a great fun Vdiff. I soloed up alongside and helped on a couple of the trickier sections then headed back down and grabbed Joe to have another attempt at Central Climb. This time there were no hiccups and despite the weather turning and a little rain coming in, we topped out quickly and headed back to the tea rooms to grab a coffee and some cake before hitting the road back to London.

As has become tradition, Easter time means Jesus climbing time and for the last few months I've been poring over my Welsh rock guidebooks working out a mental itinerary to make the most of the trip. Big link ups on Idwal Slabs, classic three star routes in the pass and a few lesser know routes dotted around, I couldn't wait. We even had a cottage to stay in courtesy of Joe's generosity and navy contacts. Last year we spent Easter basking in the sunshine in the Lake District so you can imagine my reaction as we flew back from Chamonix into a snow covered London to reports that Llanberis pass was under two metres of powder.

Keen to make the best of our time, Sam and I loaded up the car with all the climbing gear we owned, both winter and summer. We joined the bank holiday traffic escaping London for the weekend and arrived in a snowy Ogwen valley late that evening. The plan for Friday was to head over to Tremadog, always a good bet when the weather in the valley is against you, in search of some sun kissed multi-pitch action. Sam and I warmed up on Christmas Curry Micah Finish while Joe and Nat headed up Hail Bebe, Joe putting his new found lead climbing skills into action. The final pitch provided a fantastic situation for such an amenable grade and after topping out we hurried back down and simul-climbed up Hail Bebe to get some practise in for the alps this summer and catch up with the others. After a late lunch we finished up on Merlin Direct, a route I've been eyeing up for some time. I lead the tough second pitch and after a bit of a wobble on the layback flake I made it to the top and called Sam up to shouts of "this is awesome!" as he climbed.

Mr T in smash mode on the Micha Finish to Christmas Curry

Saturday we decided to don our spikes and woke early for the quick walk in up to Devil's Kitchen in Cwm Idwal. The intention was to get onto the Screen, a classic grade IV ice route, but we soon realised that we weren't the only people with that idea and after watching a pair having a bit of an epic in front of us we opted for the Ramp next door, an easier route with some interesting moves on the second pitch. 

Getting ready for the ramp

After topping out fairly early we dropped back down the normal descent and made our way across to Chicane Gully, another grade III route. We accidentally soloed the first pitch not realising the route had started so Sam took the second pitch which seemed fairly tough at the grade but still manageable. This left me with the lead on the final pitch which turned out to be a bit of a mare. The climbing was straightforward but the ice was completely hollow and there was very little it terms of protection as the screws were so poor. I reached the top belay just as Sam called through "two metres left!" and was relieved to finish and head back down to the lake. On the way back to the car I was shocked to see so many people walking up to the lake in completely inappropriate footwear and clothing, suddenly the number of mountain rescue call outs started to make more sense.

Mr T leading it out on Chicane Gully

Back at the cottage Sam and I got stuck into some serious tea drinking while Nat took Joe on a run. When they arrived back Nat looked like she'd walked a couple of miles and Joe looked like someone had laminated him, clearly tea was the better option.

After the early winter start we decided to have a more leisurely day on Sunday and given the conditions we headed back to Tremadog so I could give Joe a lesson in lead climbing. Joe and I started up on Poor Man's Peutery and Joe took the first pitch. After starting well he had some trouble with route finding and we decided to play it safe, lower off and switch leads. From there on in Joe did brilliantly and took on the long fourth pitch up the exposed slab to complete his first severe lead, top effort.

Joe leading the way on Poor Man's Peutery

As we got back to the bottom we saw Sam disappearing up Poor Man's Peutery with Nat and decided to head along to Scratch, a classic VS two pitch route taking the striking corner crack on the right hand side of Craig Pant Ifan. This was a stiff ask for Joe to lead so I took on both pitches. The second pitch was superb with a long layback that required some faith in friction. Joe did brilliantly seconding cleanly and we abbed back down to meet the others and head to the car. On the way home we stopped off at the RAC boulders and had a play, starting on the easy slabs before doing a couple of short sit-start problems on the traverse boulder.

Bouldering fun on the way back from Tremadog

After two brilliant winter trips to Scotland, getting to grips with Highland ice, I was beginning to forget what rock climbing felt like and I think Kirsty was starting to forget what I looked like a little too. So after seeing the perfect weather forecast for this weekend I nervously asked Kirsty if she fancied a day in the Peak District, fully expecting a no and a few choice expletives. Luckily for me I have a very understanding girlfriend and soon enough we were racing up the M1 under bright blue skies, heading towards Birchen Edge.

Birchen is known for a couple of things; firstly the high number of low grade, multi star classics and secondly, almost all of the climbs are sandbags.

sand.bag (noun)

A route whose grade belies its difficulty. This can be either because it is undergraded, or requires a trick move to overcome the crux. Or it's just more work than it looks. (verb) To point someone at a route that is a sandbag, saying things like "It's only HVS" (unsaid: but requires the skills of an E3 climber).

We started up on Trafalgar Wall, a classic grit stone slab with a tricky start before moving onto Powder Monkey Parade, a three star classic that features in the infamous Classic Rock. Here the sandbags began, the initial moves were ridiculous and involved squashing yourself into a tight flaring chimney and essentially humping your way up to a chockstone at about three metres. From here things eased and we were soon back down heading along the buttress to Topsail, one of the all time classic grit VS routes and one that had been on my wishlist for some time. The climb really comes down to a couple of moves to get around a roof via the "sail" a large left facing flake above the roof. We dispatched this fairly quickly and were soon back at the base of the crag tucking into tea and soreen, the most British of lunches.

Kirsty, still laughing at my poor chimney climbing technique

After a spot of lunch we got onto our third classic rock tick, Sail Buttress. A fairly simple climb at HS but requiring some thoughtful rope work. Unfortunately in extending one rope to reduce the drag on lead I left it at an awkward angle for Kirsty trying to follow so she decided to lower off and I abbed in to grab the gear. We continued on to Crow's Nest, a tricky VS with, surprise, surprise, another difficult chimney start and after finishing that came back down to have a look at the direct start, Scrim Net, a short E1 variation. After a couple of attempts and being completely shut down by some tough moves I revisited the guide book to discover it was graded E1 6a. What the fuck? E1 6a? No wonder it was so hard! Grumbling to myself about stupid grading I wandered off, followed by a chuckling Kirsty.

Winter sun on Crow's Nest, the grim crack of Scrim Net can be seen on the left of the photo

To finish up we headed back towards the car park end of the crag and climbed Nelson's Nemesis, a soft VS with some fun hand jamming and interesting foot work and finally we did the left hand variation, Horatio's Horror, before packing up and walking back to the car munching some well deserved twiglets. 

Looking happy at the top of Nelson's Nemesis

Having endured some long nights on the sleeper train and some brutal weather in the Cairngorms on our previous trip, the forecasted alpine conditions due to hit Scotland were a welcome prelude to our return match up with the unpredictable world of Scottish winter climbing. After running the gauntlet through the usual strange looks as I left work at 3pm on a Friday carrying a bag the size of a coffin, I met up with Dan and we made our way to Luton airport where we joined Pat for our flight to Aberdeen. On arrival in Scotland we were met by Ali and the logistical challenge of getting four people, eight bags and a week’s worth of shopping into a Skoda Fabia. Packed in like sardines, we made our way west past Aviemore and onto our cottage on the shores of Loch Laggan where we met Ed and David and grabbed a cup of tea before heading to bed.

  Wednesday morning Pat, Ed, Ali and I made an early start and hit the well trodden road to the north face car park of the Ben. We made quick progress up the seemingly endless walk in and, after gearing up outside the CIC, headed on towards number two buttress and our route for the day, Comb Gully. Pat and Ed headed off and Ali and I followed up, me leading the initial two ice pitches and Ali finishing up. The route was pretty well trodden and felt pretty soft at the grade but was a great intro for the week and fairly soon we found ourselves surmounting the cornice and heading across the summit plateau towards number 4 gully. It was still fairly early but with plenty of climbing ahead we decided one route was enough for the day and we made our way down and back to the cottage.

Happy Ali seconding on Comb Gully

Back in the warm we met up with Dan and David who had been up on Creag Meagaidh climbing Staghorn Gully and Cinderella and set about getting some dinner on to refuel for the following day. Despite a lot of cloud the guys had seen some great looking ice on The Pumpkin which according to Dan was "well doable" so we made plans to head up the following day to have a look.

The next day dawned to glorious blue skies and an icy chill in the air. My new boots had torn up my heels  so I opted for a big pack and comfy shoes for the walk in to Meagaidh and in a little over an hour from the car park we stood looking up at the pumpkin. "Fuck me, that looks steep Dan". It turns out that in the cloud Dan and Dave had been looking at Glass Slipper, an easier ice route off to the right. We could already see Pat and Ed half way up and another team queuing so we decided to give it a miss and climb Glass Slipper instead. I ran the first two pitches together, using every inch of our 60m ropes, then Ali finished up the route, making the most of some excellent bucket seat and buried axe belays that some kind soul had already dug out on the way up. With such nice conditions it seemed a waste to head back down so we continued on to the summit of Creag Meagaidh for some lunch and my first winter Munro before heading back down via the window to the car park.

David leading it out on Glass Slipper

By this point in the week both Ali, Dan and I were having some serious feet issues. Compeed had become the most valuable commodity in the cottage and Ed, our supplier, was fast becoming the object of much bribery and affection. Dan decided to ignore this and made the eye-wateringly early start to get on Tower Ridge with David. Stiff and sore we decided a short walk-in was in order for the following day and Coire an t-Sneachda fitted the bill. After a leisurely start, listening to Ed's questionable music collection and breaking into some acapella Annie Lennox, we made the quick trot from the car park and arrived at the bottom of the coire. Ali and I headed off to our first objective, Aladdin's Mirror Direct, which looked in great condition with a perfect line of blue ice running down its middle. Pat and Ed headed off in the opposite direction towards Invernookie on Fiacaill Butress. We soloed up the easy start to the bottom of the ice fall where I got roped in for the crux ice pitch. Feeling fresh from our recent trip to La Grave the 10-15m pitch flew by pretty quickly and I was soon at the in-situ belay at the top calling Ali through. He duly cruised up the pitch in style and lead on. Once Ali ran out of rope I unclipped from the belay and we simul-climbed the remaining easy ground up to the top of the route.

Running it out on the crux of Aladdin's Mirror Direct

With our first route in the bag we headed round to the goat track where we descended on the right hand side below fluted buttress and traversed across to the bottom of Spiral Gully, a classic grade II. At this point we had a call from Pat. Invernookie was looking busy so they had climbed The Seam instead, an imposing looking mixed route and an absolute classic of the coire. Massive tick! We set off again and Ali was keen to get on the lead so he headed off and made light work of the first pitch, only placing a couple of bits of gear despite some fairly loose sugary snow. Ali lead on again through pitch two and the ground eased so we moved together again for the rest of the climb topping out about 3pm. Through some miscommunication we spent the next hour and a half waiting for Ed and Pat at the top of Aladdin's Mirror Direct, when they were actually climbing Hidden Chimney Direct. Annoying as we could have got another route in had we known! Never mind it was a great day and we headed back to the car with ear to ear smiles.

Ali smashing out the classics on Spiral Gully

With the weekend approaching Ed left to meet his wife in Torridon, Hannah came up to meet Ali and David fancied a walking day leaving Dan, Pat and I to make up a triple threat for the return for Creag Meagaidh. We decided to have another leisurely start and after prying my lazy arse off the sofa we plodded up the walk in to the base of our objective, South Pipe Direct. There was already a pair on the first pitch as we geared up at the bottom of the approach slope but given that we were climbing as a three we figured they would soon move away ahead of us. When we arrived at the belay the second of the pair was still there but as he moved off we got ourselves secure and started flaking ropes. I lead up the first long pitch and at the belay was surprised to find the lead of the previous pair was still only half way through the next pitch. There was minimal belay gear so I had to stand on the snow ledge waiting for about 20 minutes before I could clip in and bring the others up. Pat arrived first looking pretty peeved and I explained what had taken so long and Dan soon joined him looking pretty cold. Pat lead off up the next pitch and pretty much the same thing happened again. Somehow the pair infront were only just setting off and as Dan and I arrived the second was still belaying.

At this point we started to get concerned, from here on the climbing only got harder and we were due in Fort William for the film festival at 18:30 so we decided to cut our losses and finish up the easier (but infinitely more disappointing) north pipe, the ordinary finish to Staghorn Gully. Dan lead off and got held up again by another pair having some epic rope faff, by the time we joined him we were so keen to get going I pushed straight through grabbing a single ice screw to protect the steeper ice at the top. I climbed through and arriving at the belay realised I only had a single nut to make a belay with, whoops. I managed to find a slot for it and found a turfy crack for my ace so, praying that Dan and Pat wouldn't fall I brought the guys up and we simul-soloed on to the summit.

Not the recommended way to make a winter belay!

From here the mad dash began and we raced down through the window, de-cramponed lower down and then half ran-half walked back to the car park where we were picked up by Ali and David and headed straight on to Fort William. The film festival was great and we had some chat from Dave MacLeod, some great short films, a hilarious talk from Andy Cave and some amusing Q & A with Andy and Mertyl Simpson ("if you can ski in Glen Coe, you can ski anywhere!" - the motto of the evening).

Five bags in, four to go

Last year a pact was made, next year we will make the most of the winter season and make as many trips as possible, no excuses. With this positive attitude as our guiding principle Dan, Sam and I found ourselves boarding the Caledonian Sleeper on Friday night, full of Nandos and ready for ten hours of uncomfortable snoozing curled up in a "luxury" reclining chair.

Just as we were getting comfortable we were joined by our neighbours for the evening. I'm not sure what the collective term is for the extremely posh but let's call them a hooray of gentry. Clementine and chums were off for a shindig up north and it seemed terribly ironic to get smashed on prosecco surrounded by peasants. It was going to be a long night.

Around 3am I was awoken by the early onset of frostbite as I realised the heating was broken and the chilly winter air being blown directly onto my extremities. I emptied my bag of warm clothes and returned to my seat looking like something out of an outdoor catalogue photo shoot that had gone badly wrong. I fell back to sleep feeling smug and warm until two hours later when the heating came back on and I woke up producing enough sweat to refill the empty prosecco bottles now rolling around the floor.

Arriving bleary eyed at Aviemore station we quickly made tracks to the nearest cafe, which was closed. The only establishment open was Tesco so we went and got some food for the hill and wasted some time until the nearest coffee shop opened and we could get our caffeine hit and sort our bags for the day. Feeling a little more perky, Sam and Dan wondered up to Mountain Cafe to find porridge while I picked up the hire car and drove down to meet them. Fueled up on oats we headed up to the Cairngorm ski centre car park, loaded up and started the walk in to our destination for the day, Coire t-Sneachda.

On the walk in to Coire t-Sneachda

When we arrived at the crag it was clear from the shouts ringing around that it was going to be a busy day. With the clouds sitting low on the mountains we couldn't see any of the buttresses so we made our way towards the noise in the general direction of our objective, Hidden Chimney. As we made our way past a group gearing up we thought we'd heard Dan's name called and sure enough Stu that we'd met in Wales last June was standing there smiling as per usual, how random! At this point the clouds cleared and we realised that Hidden Chimney was also everyone else's objective so we changed our plan and soloed up the easy ground to the base of the ice pitch on Aladdin's Mirror Direct to have  look.

Count the climbers! A busy day on Hidden Chimney with the Haston line getting a similar treatment

As we approached the bottom of Aladdin's Mirror Direct it was clear that this was also a popular objective, so we nipped back around the corned onto another line we has seen, Patey's Route. This was our first grade IV and a little tougher than we had planned to start with, but with so many parties on the popular lines we thought it was worth a go. I lead up to the first bulge and brought Sam and Dan up before continuing on to the bottom of the icy chimney leading to the route's crux.

Sam seconding over the first bulge on Patey's Route

Sam lead on from here, up and left to the crux of the route; a tough rocky slab with limited protection and not much for your axes. After a few minutes digging around he decided he didn't like the look of it and brought me and Dan up and I got on the sharp end and pulled through the final bulge. Above this was easier ground so we carried on as a three soloing up to the top of the route. Having spent a long time finding a route that didn't have a queue and the inevitable faff of climbing as a three we ended up topping out in the dark to finish an epic day.

Smiles all round at the top of Patey's Route

When we finally got back to the car, knackered and ready for a pint, we found to our dismay that the completed pointless electronic parking brake (what's wrong with a handle?!) had frozen on and we were stuck. After several phone calls and about an hour of trying we finally managed to do something right and we were on the move back to civilisation.

Day two we had arranged to meet up with Stu and climb in two pairs. We decided to take a look at Aladdin's Mirror Direct again but the wind had spun round to a south-easterly and we didn't like the look of the approach slope. Digging a quick pit it became clear that the slope was fairly borderline so we changed tack and headed across the Coire to Fiacaill Buttress. By this point the wind was absolutely howling and visibility was almost zero, it was proper Scottish winter conditions. We were looking for Invernookie but couldn't see anything and in the end traversed too far round and joined up with Fiacaill Ridge. Keen to get something done we headed up the ridge and back before bailing back down to the car park.

Grim conditions on Fiacaill Ridge

Dan was heading back that night so we settled into the pub, got some food and watched the second half of the rugby before dropping him at the station and heading back to our guest house for some well earned rest.

Day three dawned bright but the news from the ski centre was not good. It appeared that conditions on the hills had only got worse since the previous day. The avalanche conditions were deteriorating, the car park was closed, winds were up to gale force and the visibility was next to zero. To add to our concern the mountain rescue were out in force looking for a group that had gone missing the previous day. In the end we decided to bail and headed into town in search of some alternative entertainment. One of the local climbers mentioned a disused quarry over the road that might provide a bit of drytooling fun so we swung round in the car and scouted it out.

First glance didn't look too appealing but we managed to find a wet chossy line that we thought might go and I headed up to set up a toprope. We both had a couple of goes up the line, scrabbling on poor axe placements and pulling loose stones onto our helmets and the belayer below, before we decided to call it a day and head for a walk around Loch Eileen.

With sunny skies and low winds forecast on Saturday, Kirsty and I decided to ditch our plans for a lazy day watching the rugby and head out for some warm winter rock. Usually we'd head to the peaks, but having got the West Country Climbing guide for Christmas we decided to do something a little different and headed to the Avon Gorge in Bristol for some multi-pitch limestone fun.

After a couple of hours of easy driving we parked up at the foot of the Sea Walls area (nice to have a 1 minute walk-in) had a look round and decided to have a go at Sleepwalk, a four pitch Severe heading diagonally rightward up the face. Apart from the final pitch that took a striking 45 degree flake crack, the climbing was very straightforward (scrambling in many places) and we ended up completing the route in three pitches. The one noticeable difference from our usual climbing was the limited amount of protection that quarried limestone seemed to provide and the large number of flat polished holds.

Blinded by the winter sun on Sleepwalk

Once back in the bottom of the gorge we stopped for some lunch before heading to have a look at Gronk, a five pitch VS with a steep start and some exposed traverses further on. By this time it had got very warm as the crag was south facing so I set off in just a t-shirt to minimize the bad combination of sweaty hands and polished rock.

Heading up pitch two of Gronk

Having worked out the interesting mantling crux of the first pitch Kirsty seconded up cleanly. It looked like all the bouldering had paid off as she made light work of the tough 4c moves. The real interest came on pitch three which took a spicy rightwards traverse with very little gear. This wasn't a huge problem on lead as the moves were fairly straightforward but it left the second in an exposed position when following, with a nasty pendulum should they fall. Kirsty was less than happy about this and after a long time stressing with the commitment and a few tears I tied her off to the belay and soloed up to the break above to add some protection, essentially putting her on top rope. This solved the issue and Kirsty has soon committed and made it over to the third belay.

With that issue solved we were faced with a new problem. Having taken so long to complete the first three pitches the sun was dipping behind the opposite side of the gorge. Darkness aside, this meant that it was rapidly becoming freezing cold and my decision to wear just a tshirt was looking rather foolhardy. The only solution was for me to squeeze into Kirsty's spare top, a rather snazzy purple Patagonia number in ladies' small. Fetchingly clad, I got stuck into the last serious pitch, the long leftward traverse back across the face. I got in as much gear as it was possible to find to prevent a repeat of the previous epic and set myself up hanging well below the next belay so that I could watch Kirsty's progress. I needn't have worried as with ample gear she easily followed me across and we quickly dispatched the last short pitch to top out.

Topping out as the sun sets (me sporting a fine skin-tight purple number)

Ever since booking the flights back in November I've been counting down the days to our trip to La Grave. Axes sharpened and passports packed, Dan, Sam and I flew into Lyon late on Thursday evening where we picked up our car and (after 2 hours of trying to find a supermarket using only Sam's natural charm and pigeon French) hit the road into the Ecrins fully stocked for the week and rushed along by the noxious gases emanating from Sam's backside.

On the train to Gatwick, a long way to go!

We arrived in La Grave after a nervy journey through the icy streets to a toasty -15 degrees and quickly bundled our gear into the room. We were in a small dorm with two bunk beds and once we'd started to unpack our gear we soon lost sight of the floor. No problem, floors are overrated anyway. We hit the hay with plans for an early morning start.

Which way's the ice?

The plan for day one was to head to Caturgeas and climb the first few pitches to get our skills honed on some easier ice. The conditions were a little thin but there was plenty to go at so Ed lead off with Sam and I lead the first pitch with Dan seconding. Ed's other mates (Matt, Mark and Ben) were pretty quick and zoomed up the right hand side of the first pitches moving together.

Leading off on pitch one of Caturgeas

While we waited for Ed to clear the second pitch the first incident of the holiday occurred. Dan, in no uncertain terms, informed me that he was going to shit, right here, right now. He didn't say "Tom, I need a shit", he said "Tom, I have to shit, right now". Thus ensued what has become known as the belay slomp. That is all I wish to say about that.

Dan leading quickly on second pitch for some reason

While Dan was heading up pitch two (his first pitch ever on lead) I looked up to see what is best described as a fairly sizeable spindrift avalanche coming down the top pitches. As if his first lead wasn't a stressful enough experience he had the additional fun on not being able to see the avalanche coming down, instead he was alerted by my voice shouting "Avalanche" about two octaves higher than usual. Fortunately it fairly rapidly petered out, we finished the second pitch and as quickly as possible abseiled back to the foot of the climb. If this was ice climbing, maybe I'd stick to the peak district.

Let's get out of here!

With conditions on the south side looking fairly avalanche prone we decided to head over to the north side and take a look at the classic WI3/4 Le Pylone in the afternoon. After the snow slog up to the base of the climb it became fairly clear that the conditions were as thin as feared. The climb looked very steep and there was water pouring out of the right hand side. Keen not to risk an epic we turned tail and reversed the 45 minutes approach in 5 minutes with some epic bum sliding action.

On the approach to Le Pylone

Since there was plenty of daylight left we walked just down the valley from Le Pylone and had a play on an easy climb in the small gorge below the telepherique. The climbing was straightforward but it gave us an opportunity to practise placing screws and rigging abseils which we were glad for. Knackered from the long journey and the climbing we headed back to the gite and cooked up some pasta, washed down with a bottle of red, before hitting the sack, ready for an early start the next morning.

Mr T, cranking in the gorge

The next morning, once we'd finally managed to get Mr T out of bed and some breakfast down our necks we headed back down to Les Freaux and headed up to Le Colere du Ciel. The route was getting busy so we moved quickly up the initial easy pitches to the belay at the base of the steeper final two pitches. I lead off on the first pitch which, although supposedly the crux of the route, was actually fairly easy as the ice was stepped out and I was able to hook my way up the majority of the time.

Dan, through the steepest part of the second to last pitch of Le Colere du Ciel

Dan had a quick look at the last pitch and decided it wasn't for him so I set off on the lead. In theory this was the easier of the two steep pitches but with conditions thin it was very steep and by the time I hit the top I was totally pumped and ready to be sick, a perfect mixture of terror and excitement. Dan seconded up easily and we abbed back down and took the short path through the trees to Diabolobite where Sam and Ed had set up a top rope. Feeling pretty pumped still from our effort, Dan and I took a spectator seat while Ed and Sam played around on Diabolobite, then quickly made the descent back down to the car and returned to the gite for some carbo loading.

Sam showing off some suspect ropework on the final pitch of La Colere du Ciele

With the promise of a big dump of snow on the way overnight, we had a good chat about our options before getting our heads down. With the increased avalanche risk after snow we decided that skiing might be a good option and sure enough we woke up to a blanket of white the following morning. We headed into town and rented some gear, then after a journey best forgotten involving numb hands, badly fitted snow chains and a lot of pushing, we finally made it up to Le Chazelet. Through some mixed up communication Dan and I were separated initially but got back into the groove of skiing after long absences by heading down a great red piste.

Still (just about) able to ski after a 12 year break

As we headed back up on the chairlift we were on the lookout for the others and a black blob lying on the slope caught our eye. Sure enough, having never skiied before, Sam was finding out the hard way that a red run was potentially not the best place to learn. Under the careful tuition of Matt he eventually made his way to the bottom of the run onto a more amenable green slope where, by the end of the day, he had easily mastered the craft. While not quite the same buzz as ice climbing we all had a great day.

The ski masters on lunch stop

With the final day of our trip looming we grabbed some food in the gite then headed into town for some drinks. The northern contingent of the group were heading off early to fly back from Geneva but Dan, Sam and I had the morning to try and sneak in one final climb. After another night of snow we weren't hopeful that there would be anything safe to climb but we optimistically headed to the guide's office to ask about conditions. The answer was a pretty straightforward, "Non". The other guys in the group had previously put a toprope down a chossy pitch under the car park so with no other options we geared up and had a final play on some suspect ice before packing up and heading back to Lyon to catch our flight.

The biblical floods of December have left all recent climbing activity confined to plastic pulling around the walls of London. As depressing as this is, the consistent training is starting to pay off and I'm feeling stronger and ready to get onto some more powerful routes rather than the delicate slabs I usually stick to when pushing my grade.

With some clear weather forecast at the weekend, Pat and I decided on a day trip to Rivelin (or as Sam calls it Rivendale - we didn't see any elves) and I managed to convince Sam and Lorna to come with. After an early start on Saturday morning we met Pat near Luton and had a clear run up through Sheffield. This was my first trad trip with Pat and I was looking forward to getting onto some harder routes courtesy of Pat's impressive grit skills.

We warmed up on a couple of slabby VS routes. Pat lead Jonad Rib (placing about two runners - that's what I call confidence!) after which I got onto Left Edge while Sam and Lorna headed up some easier routes to get Lorna "back on the rock" and used to climbing trad.

Running it out on Left Edge

Feeling happy that the rock felt OK despite being a bit green, Pat flew up Left Edge's neighbouring Better Late Than Never, a run out E1 with some great delicate moves. Following that I decided to complete my set of Top 50 Rivelin HVSs and headed onto Blizzard Ridge. I don't think it quite has the quality of Croton Oil but it was definitely a three star route and had a great finish up the blunt arete.

Onto the blunt arete of Blizzard Ridge

One of the main reasons for choosing Rivelin was that both Pat and I had been eyeing up Roof Route for a while. From the bottom of the route it looks truly horrendous, a perfect splitter hand crack through a horizontal roof making what looks like a giant pair of gritstone buttocks. A mean proposition at HVS, so mean in fact that despite being two grades harder Pat decided to lead The Original Route at E2 on the Pinnacle so that I would have to have first pop at Roof Route instead.

The imposing gritstone buttocks of Roof Route

Original Route heads up the left hand side of the Rivelin Pinnacle making a tricky move around onto the main face where it joins the top half of Croton Oil. Pat got some gear in the initial crack than headed back down for a break. Once fully depumped he jumped back on and flew quickly through the crux running it out through to the infamous "rickety flake" on Croton Oil. I followed up but struggled to get my right foot high enough for the crux first time and came off. Next time round I didn't make the same mistake and soon joined Pat at the top of the pinnacle. It was great to get onto a route that was right at the limit of my ability and it gave me the psych to take the bull by the horns and get onto Roof Route on lead.

Pat working through the crux of Original Route

Standing at the bottom of the route the roof crack looked more imposing than ever but I was still keen to have a go. I soloed up the easy initial climb to the roof and got some gear in. After checking out the quality of the jams I committed and soon found myself at the lip of the roof where I managed to get my left heel up for a solid heel hook. I pulled through but just above the lip the crack widened and I couldn't get a good enough jam to get my weight over onto my heel. Keen to keep the onsite a backed off and down climbed back to the niche to rest and rethink. Second attempt I struggled to get my heel up and realised the first attempt had taken too much out of me as the crack spat me out onto my gear. I gave it a token third go but to the same end and finally lowered down. This was the first time I'd attempted a lead on grit and had to back off but rather than feeling annoyed I actually felt happy that I had got onto something that pushed me well beyond my limits.

Established at the lip of Roof Route ready to swing the legs up

Pat lead up next on my gear and had a similar first attempt, establishing his feet but struggling to pull through and down climbing back to the niche (I was secretly happy he struggled!) but second go up he nailed it and with some hairy looking moves soon got himself established on the face and raced up to the top. With my arms feeling the strain and the sun dipping behind the hills we decided it was a good time to call it a day and head to the pub. 

"Rain will hit the Peak District on Sunday afternoon".

Perfect, we can get almost two full days climbing in.

"Rain will hit the Peak District early on Sunday".

OK, never mind. We can still get a whole day in on Saturday.

"Rain will hit the Peak District at 6pm on Saturday".

That's fine, it gets dark before then anyway.

"Rain will hit the Peak District at 3pm on Saturday".

Fuck you rain.

Obsessive is probably a fair word. If I spent as much time working as I did checking the weather forecast I'd probably be a millionaire hate myself. Throughout the week Pat, Dan and I had been excitedly exchanging emails, getting ourselves psyched up for a weekend at Stanage in perfect grit conditions. Unfortunately as the week progressed, those perfect conditions seems to be disappearing before our eyes. 

Fuck you rain.

With the prospect of an early Saturday morning drive over from Cambridge only to find wet rock, Pat's resolve finally gave way leaving Dan and I to go it alone. We snuck out of work as early as possible on Friday, picked up the car and hit the road heading for Dronsfield where we would be bunking at Dan's Dad's house. Two hours in, still on the M25, we started to wonder if the weather heading up from the south was more biblical than predicted and we were part of a stampede heading for high ground up north. We crawled through the traffic up the M1 and finally started to make some good progress, arriving after four and a half hours on the road.

Next morning we were up early and greeted by a clear sky, with a frost on the ground and some lingering mist. We taped up in the warmth of the house, packed the car up and left the suburbs for the rolling roads of the Peaks. The mist seemed to be congregating in the valleys but as we wound our way up from Hathersage towards Stanage we broke through to a beautiful view out over the hills. 

Dan checking out the view 

With the looming threat of inclement weather we decided not to warm up on anything too easy so we started up with Ellis's Eliminate, a climb of two halves starting with a hand jam traverse and ending with a comfy scramble up a blunt arête. After a bit of a false start, mainly due to losing all feeling in my hands and backing off the traverse back to the rest, I committed again and soon found myself romping up to the top out which was thankfully sheltered from the cold breeze. Dan seconded up without too much trouble and we were soon back at the foot of the climb browsing through Eastern Grit for our next goal.

The imposing face of Ellis's Eliminate

Dan decided to get straight on the VS routes too and chose the classic Mississippi Buttress Direct for his first lead. Dan cruised the route with great style and was quickly calling me through to "climb when ready". I seconded up without too much fuss and we recoiled the ropes and ran back to the foot of the crag, it was freezing up on top! Feeling good from the first couple of routes I decided to up the ante and chose Congo Corner for my next lead, according to Eastern Grit one of the best HVS routes in the Peak. The crux of the route was getting through the awkward finger crack at the start, but once through this some solid hand jams lead to a great rest and easier climbing traversing left under a roof. A quick traverse back right and some classic rounded grit breaks lead to the top and a lowering of my heart rate. I'd have to agree with Eastern Grit it is definitely a three star classic.

Next up was Central Trinity, Dan took the lead and made short work of the first of the twin cracks, traversing across to the base of the second. He made the tough move to get established in the second crack then all of a sudden he was off! We had both taken very short falls before but this was first proper trad fall I'd held and it was a pretty exhilarating experience, though comforting to see that the protection does its job. Second time of asking Dan didn't make the same mistake and he was soon done leaving me to second up and clean the route. By this time the storm clouds were starting to build so we got back down quickly in the hope of fitting in one final climb.

Dan after his fall, looking very happy with his secure nuts