Summer of Shuas

The first crux of Dun Briste E8 6c during the first ascent. Thanks to Cubby Images for these pics. Cubby, when are you doing your book?!!

 This summer I’ve tried to make up for last summer’s wet weather and broken legs and have picked up where I left off, trying to do some of the superb new routes just waiting to be climbed on Binnien Shuas. In this effort, I’ve been following the lead of the amazing Iain Small, who has made a great effort in developing the crag over the past year. Let me take a moment to underline just what he’s done here. Although I can barely keep count, Iain has added one E8 and five E7s to Binnien Shuas in the past year. And, having repeated a few of them, I can say that they are brilliant routes. Not only that, but Iain has done a very thorough job of cleaning them, turning three star routes into four.

Having broken my leg trying to make the FA of Stronghold, E8 6c last autumn, I was playing catch up with Iain this year. I kicked off by repeating Siege Engine E7 6c which takes a soaring diagonal ramp on the left side of the crag. It’s ridiculously steep and a long winding pitch but well protected and about 7c in difficulty. This for me was a pre-requisite before trying the obvious project cutting through the roof above the ramp.

Nearing the top of my own route Stronghold E8 6c, which was very satisfying after breaking my leg on an earlier attempt past September. Pic by Cubby Images

My first abseil down the project was an exhilarating and nervous experience. The headwall above the roof has this amazing flake in it. It’s hard to describe, but sort of like a ‘slice’ out of the granite resembling the cut you would make in the top of a mound of bread dough about to go in the oven (not that I bake any bread these days ; )). It’s such an amazing feature, I was really nervous that the stretch across the roof to the flake from the undercut flakes below would be too far and the line would be impossible. As it happens, it’s perfect - 8a+ with good gear and excellent, athletic climbing. You start by doing most of Siege Engine to the perfect cam slots in the roof. What follows is a huge powerful reach to the lip from here, some toe-hook trickery and another piece of gear before the culmination - a powerful slap to a perfectly placed side pull right below the top. 

I’d just had a week off climbing for my birthday fast (blog on this will follow) so on my first day up there with Iain I opted to top-rope it in its entirety to see if I could actually get through that top crux. This is something I don’t often do these days on headpointed trad routes. I usually tend to mess about on the moves on a shunt and then just go for it as I’ve got a lot of experience at knowing when I’m likely to succeed or fail. I was glad I did on this occasion though. Although I did manage to link it, I really needed the extra training burns before adding the effort of placing the gear on lead. I also seconded Iain on yet another great new E7 just left of my route Stronghold.

A couple of days later I was back with Iain and Cubby and after a bit of faffing decided to get on it. I felt really good all the way but was still full of apprehension for whether I could power through the crux with a bit of a pump on. I could feel that pump starting to kick in just a wee bit on the first crux, so got pretty fired up and let out a battle cry on the final slap to the side pull. It was an exhilarating surprise to stick it and a few moments later find myself standing on the ledge above with another classic new route in the bag. 

Setting up for the final crux on Dun Briste E8 6c, during the first ascent. Pic by Cubby Images.

Between Iain and myself, we eyed up a possible direct entry to the line from below. The following day I returned by myself and spent a long afternoon cleaning it. I think this could go but it’s at least another grade harder and will need a bit of work yet. With the sun staying out I was back again the following day with Murdo and Cubby. After the hardcore cleaning session the day before, I was pretty exhausted and at first wasn’t sure if I could climb anything. But after checking out Iain’s Braes of Balquither E7/8 6c on the right side of the crag, it was too good not to lead and both myself and Murdo dispatched our repeats with great enjoyment. To really finish myself off, I started up Isinglass E7 6c on the proviso that if I could manage the wobbly initial slab, I’d just try my best to keep going. I’m sure you’ll understand that after decking out and breaking my leg on the next route to the left, I’m a little nervous of Binnien Shuas starts now. I was a bit tense, but the start went fine and I pressed on. It was kind of cold and windy and I was really too tired to be on a big E7, so I didn’t hesitate and blasted on. Isinglass is another climb with the crux right at the top and I’ll admit I had to do a pretty committing slap on the key move onto the top slab.

Nearing the end of an intense and bold crux section on Iain Small's Braes of Balquither E7/8 6c, Binnien Shuas. Pic by Cubby Images

Enjoying Iain Small's excellent route Isinglass E7 6c, Binnien Shuas. Pic by Cubby Images

This really is an excellent crag for accessible mountain trad that dries quickly and is often in condition even in fairly mixed weather. The two E8s I’ve added myself are both brilliant, but I really do want to see an E9 on this crag. So I’ll be back as soon as I have the opportunity to get on the direct entry to Dun Briste. Although the E7s and E8s in this post will not be targets for most readers of this blog, it’s worth pointing out that the classics at the other end of the grade scale are highly recommended too. Ardverikie Wall probably gets twenty ascents for every one of any of the other routes. But there are plenty of other great ones too. The place is really other keeping in mind as a Lochaber mountain crag to visit. It’s in condition earlier and later in the season than many of the other mountain crags in the area and you can easily get in there and climb many pitches even with a half day and often when the higher mountains are catching the showers. See you up there.

Training with Freida after getting back from holiday last week. She insists on doing her rings workout to Katy Perry. I now know all the words to 'Roar'.

Healed

Repeating Iain Small's Siege Engine E7 6c yesterday. Amazingly carefree feeling just to have to worry about sending the route and not much else. The rope is hanging down another project which goes out left across the roof. Cant wait to get back on that one. Photo: Kevin Woods

Last September I broke my leg on Binnien Shuas. I didn’t really write much about it on this blog for a couple of reasons. First, because I was pretty upset with just how badly the whole climbing day went wrong and second, because the accident was only really the start of the story. I felt like I needed to try and recover before making any sort of sense of it.

Yesterday I was up at Binnien Shuas again and repeated Iain Small’s superb new E7 ‘Siege Engine’. On the way down I stopped at the nice beach by Lochan na h Earba and just took a moment to enjoy being there and not having a broken leg, and instead to be heading off for some dinner after a nice afternoon climbing.

What a contrast to when I stood by that beach for two or three horrible hours in September.

It started with a crap July and August with continuous rain in the west highlands. I’d bet on doing Scottish mountain trad for the summer instead of going to an alpine big wall. My gamble had fallen on its face. The best I managed was three days of mountain trad with two E8s and one E9. Instead I spent most of the summer on my board. So I was quite fit, but getting fed up waiting to actually climb some rock. So when a couple of dry days appeared, I cleaned and worked a great project though the roof on Binnien Shuas. It was around 8a climbing with enough gear and a brilliant line. If I could just salvage this project from the summer, I’d feel happy with that.

As August drew into September, the rain just kept coming. My friend Masa and I had made several arrangements to go into Shuas, only to bail at the last moment as the rain was worse than forecast. It was getting ridiculous. One morning we bailed again, but by 1pm it looked better and Masa texted to see if I still wanted to go in and look. I bit his hand off for the opportunity and next thing I was abbing down the project. It was just dry enough. Masa climbed first and tried Ardanfreaky (E3) but found the crux bulge wet and took a good whipper, before lowering off. He looked disappointed. It underlined the desperation of trying to trad climb when the weather is just not playing the game.

Abseiling down the line and drying holds. I should probably have just left it for another day! Photo: Masa Sakano

I racked up carefully ready to lead my project. I was really excited. It had literally been months since I’d tied in to start up a hard trad route and I couldn’t wait for the opportunity to go for it. I pulled onto the start and climbed up a couple of moves, reaching for a big flat undercut above my head. The next second, I was tumbling through the air. The side pull I’d been holding with my right hand had broken off. I shot off backwards without any warning and landed hard on my right foot on the sloping rock slab below, slammed into Masa and both of us stopped in a heap of tangled ropes in the heather slope below.

One minute later I had a broken leg. Enough said. Photo: Masa Sakano

I stood up in a little shock and disbelief as to why I was suddenly back on the ground. I felt okay but within seconds could feel my right ankle and leg beginning to hurt. It didn’t feel too bad, but I also felt a familiar feeling of adrenaline and shock from previous climbing accidents, killing the pain and giving me a peculiar buzz racing through my brain. I put my boots on and walked around a few steps. Within minutes I realised all was not well in my ankle. But this was not the time to consider feeling sorry for myself. I realised I needed to get myself out of a mountain crag situation rapidly, before I would need to bother a mountain rescue team. 

I agreed with Masa that I would start hobbling down the hill with my poles straight away and he would retrieve my static rope which was still hanging down from the top of the crag and meet me at our bikes by the beach.

Off I went, in more and more pain but determined just to get down to safety before letting myself worry about the future. Masa had the option of either walking to the top of the cliff, locating a scramble down to a terrace and getting down this to access the static, or soloing a V-Diff gully climb to arrive directly at the terrace; harder but much quicker. Just before I dipped down the hill out of sight of the crag, I looked back once to see Masa starting to climb the gully.

When I eventually reached the beach by the loch, I took off my boot, put my swollen ankle into the cold water and sat and felt sorry for myself. I’ve had three ankle surgeries in the past four years and spent over a year on crutches. I was finding it hard not to get miserable at the prospect of going through it all again. But what else could I do? 

Time passed, a lot of time. It started getting dark and midges bit me. Masa still hadn’t appeared. I’d  hobbled down the whole way on a broken leg and he still hadn’t caught me up. Shit. What could be delaying him. As it got dark, I went over possibilities in my mind and got more and more agitated and intensely worried. Realistically, a fall would be the most likely cause of delay and he was last seen soloing to the top of the cliff!

I could not sit still and hobbled round to the far side of the beach so I could see more of the approach path and the cliff. No sign. But the light was failing. I strained my eyes and kidded myself that distant rocks were in fact Masa walking down. There wasn’t much point in me hobbling back up on a broken leg to look for him. What would I achieve? But I was reluctant to raise alarm before I had any evidence of something going wrong. Trad climbing faff can suck up a lot of time. But at some point I’d have to make the decision. I stood for nearly an hour in full ‘fight or flight’ mode, my heart pounding in my chest, shaking and really upset. Finally, my eyes saw a spec of moving orange below the crag. Was it? Shit I’ve lost it again. Then I saw it again, a little lower. My heart dropped a little from my mouth. But it was basically dark now and as I looked lower again, I couldn't see anything else. For a further 20 minutes I cursed my eyes for showing me what I desperately wanted to see.

But then, there he was, appearing almost right in front of me out of the darkness. Masa was a marvellous sight despite looking pretty dishevelled, helmet lopped to one side on his head and generally looking muddy and messy. ‘Are you alright?’ was the only thing I could think of to say. I just wanted him to say something so I knew I wasn’t hallucinating. ‘Kind of’ came the answer back. As swarms of midges devoured us, Masa told me that he’d slipped near the top of the V-Diff and fallen the full length of the route. But that every time he’d hit ledges on the way down, he had landed on his back on the rucksack full of ropes and gear. After spending some time in a heap at the base, he’d gathered himself, apparently uninjured apart from lots of bumps and a staved thumb and tried to walk over the top, but failed to locate the descent in the failing light and eventually staggered off down the path. 

Masa Sakano starting up Ardanfreaky E3, Binnien Shuas

Like a pair of drunk old men, we struggled, moaning onto our bikes and cycled off down the track. I discovered that it is surprisingly difficult to get going on a bike with one leg broken. Back at the car, we agreed that it was at least good that we were still alive and headed off home. Masa later got an all clear from hospital in Inverness and after a few days in bed and a few weeks off climbing, he seemed fine. I went for a leg x-ray in the Belford hospital. I was also given an all clear, although I could not weight my foot at all. A nurse looked at my X-ray and said it looked normal. I also looked at it across the corridor and asked what the big line was that stretched down my tibia. “Oh that’s nothing - you can just see the bone behind”. Taking my own advice, I wanted another opinion so paid £350 for an MRI scan, which despite the cost still took a week to arrange and another week to report (the radiologist was on hols - lucky her/him!). While standing up a ladder setting routes at Three Wise Monkeys in Fort William, an email popped up on my phone from my surgeon, who had thankfully glanced at my MRI before the report and let me know that the ‘nothing’ line on my tibia was in fact a fracture and to urgently go and get a cast. Oh and I’d basically reversed my ankle surgery from the previous year. Great.

Despite my experience with getting through injuries, I will admit to being rather knocked back by all this. In other words, fucking depressed. I did my best to try and do something positive, and enrolled to start a part time masters degree in human nutrition at Glasgow University. But when I went, I was struggling to find my normal motivation. After Uni I’d drive across to TCA to do some training. But a couple of evenings I just sat outside staring at the entrance and couldn't face going in. Being self-employed also meant I couldn’t drop out of life. A particular low point was a drone flying job I had booked on the Cairngorm plateau in October. Going up there on my crutches and still being a delicate painful mess just made me feel very weak and vulnerable.

The consequence of neglecting to continue training properly only compounded my problems. I lost a huge amount of physical form and confidence. At the end of October, I left my crutches in the car at the airport and left for a long booked trip to Margalef to sport climb. My second route there was 8a and it felt desperate! I don’t think an 8a had felt so hard for over fifteen years. To be fair, walking to the crag also felt desperate at the time. I managed to get up to 8b+ redpoint in two weeks, but even that was a real struggle and I relied on experience far more than fitness to manage it. On the harder routes, I just got totally shut down. End of story.

Smiling after climbing Via Del Quim 8b+ at Margalef, two weeks off my crutches. It was great to be trying hard, but I still felt really awful.

It was a weird bittersweet experience. One one hand it was fantastic to still be able to just go out and climb rocks, but on the other I felt like a shadow of myself. But it does amaze me how these feelings eventually pass if you take good care of yourself (with basic things like sleep, nutrition, good friends, careful training etc). I have slowly regained some strength and fitness and feel quite good again now. Last month, I returned to the project I broke my leg on. After carefully cleaning the bottom section where the hold broke, and carrying a boulder pad up the hill, I sent it with ease. That was definitely a satisfying and hopeful moment. 

Sending the FA of Stronghold E8 6c a few weeks ago. A great feeling. Photo: Calum Muskett

I’d say the recovery is not quite over yet. But I just spotted an E9/10 project on Binnien Shuas. Something to drive forward the progress.

PS: Many people patiently helped me through my brokenness and recovery. Thank you, all of you.