Nice Feeling

Normally I get accustomed to actually getting to the top of climbs from time to time. It doesn’t matter very much at all to me, but as a slightly shallow but nonetheless pleasant feeling of completion and satisfaction, it’s a nice feeling to have. When training hard, like now, I get to the top of nothing. All climbs become ‘links’ or ‘sets’, subordinate to the big goal that really matters. And all days on the real project consist of getting slapped over and over again. Most of the time I try to train for hard projects by trying hard projects. It’s not always possible to access the ‘ultimate’ project every day, but it really helps if your training sessions are on real projects at closeby crags and they really matter too.

One of these I have tried for a couple of sessions is an extension to Cubby’s Beatle Back traverse (V9) at Sky Pilot. You might remember this problem if you saw the film ‘Stick It’ with footage of Cubby looking his usual graceful self on the crux, with just a brief moment at the end to see he is human after all with some shaking and a fall from the final move. The exit problem is about V4ish in it’s own right. But to it’s right I did a new problem years ago called Burning the Candle (V8ish). The obvious challenge (and handy endurance circuit for Echo Wall) was to extend Beatle Back into this little number.

Tonight, in excellent conditions, it went first try with some strength to spare. It was a very strong confidence booster, and a real spur on to keep working hard on my endurance in the coming few weeks. I am starting to get excited. In the morning, it’s Echo Wall time again.

It’s really worth knowing about Sky Pilot if you visit Glen Nevis – you can boulder there in the pouring rain and it often catches a midge defeating breeze when it’s midge death everywhere else in the Glen. The topo is in John’s bouldering guide to Scotland.

Flying visits all round

Dumbarton Rock this evening

Following on from my thinking in my last blog post, I decided to take a day to go back south and visit my parents. The old boy racer was still blowing up his pipes at 83, a fine sight! After wrestling with my mums overgrown hedges for an afternoon with much carnage with the trimmers I decided to stop off at Dumbarton Rock on the way home for a stint on my old black wall circuits for the daily pump.

Norman MacLeod terrorises the neighbours again

What a strange experience it was being back again. I was hoping I might catch up with the Canadians Sonnie Trotter (almost at the end of his month there working on my climb Rhapsody) and Cory. But as it was pouring with rain and thunder clouds rumbled, there was noone there but me. That was kind of nice in a way because it was exactly the same as when I lived there and hung out among the boulders in the morning, really late in the evening, or in the depth of winter when folks headed for the warmth of the climbing wall.

I’d deliberately forgotten the sequences for my old endurance circuits on the everdry wall, so I didn’t try to rescue them from my memory – my body remembered them instinctively and I just climbed. That was nice, it must be like that often for people who are naturally good at climbing. What a thought. It was also nice to feel the reference against old markers of fitness. I have improved. The improvement is down to lots of things to do with my training, but cannot be completely attributed to this. The other part is due to the flatter smoother walls of Lochaber rock and less opportunity to apply technique. After many years studying in the movement technique laboratory of the Dumbarton walls, I felt this is what my climbing needed to move to the next level. At Dumbarton, the routes do not tend to yield to raw power, even in some abundance. But they do yield (after serious application) to devious, subtle and high quality movement technique.

After this apprenticeship of 13 years, I can find as good a sequence as any man on a climb, but I’m still ‘weak as’. The rather more ‘basic’ and powerful moves I’ve been doing since then, on limestone and on the slaty flat walls of Glen Nevis have made a marked difference to my strength level. Happy days. So I have good energy to return to my project with.

I hope Sonnie and Cory have a good final day in Scotland. It’s been great to see them over here again enjoying the basalt. People get a little too hung up about the fact that Dumbarton is not visually representative of what Scotland has to offer. Sure, it’s setting is not the finest in a country of beauty. But they forget that the beauty of the place is in the moves on the basalt, it’s not a visual thing.

Talking of which, I read that folk have been disappointed that Rhapsody has an escape line at a couple of points. I was disappointed with this also when I was working on it, but hey sometimes you can’t have everything. It’s got good moves, good rock, good difficulty and good situation even if the line is not 100% perfect. What it really is, is a wee gem for locals with nice moves. It’s not important anyway – if it appeals to the climber, they will climb it or otherwise…

I guess my hope is that if people end up climbing the other lines, they see that they are different routes, not the climb I made; Rhapsody. The redpoint crux on my route is the last move. It’s possible even at the very end to traverse off to the left arête and avoid this. What a shame! I decided to climb the crack all the way to the end which for me was logical, and the most difficult option on the wall. But at least Rhapsody’s documentation in the film E11 makes it obvious where the route goes and that the very last moves are what provides the difficulty in ultimately getting to the top on the lead.

Falling from the redpoint crux of Rhapsody (going for the top of the crag). Unfortunately it’s possible to use the chalked holds to traverse left towards the photographer and some good holds on an arête. But where would be the fun in that!?

Squashing the Ben?

As you can see from all these recent blog posts, spending time on Ben Nevis is quite a sublime experience with many a visual delight to be had most days. Here are some shots from today’s session on Echo Wall. You’ll notice they are all quite bonny apart from one. Yes I was feeling a bit knackered after my stint on the route.
I feel that I have worked pretty hard to earn these days on the mountain over the past couple of years. Many a long day and night in front of the screen or travelling the country earned this summer of less work. But I still can’t help feeling a touch of guilt at so much enjoyment! Sitting on Tower Ridge on the way down, just listening to the silence and taking in the play of the light on the mountains reminded me of times when I started climbing, when I did things like that all the time and never felt a rush to get back for work. I feel that I should sit still more often, not for long, just a minute or two. But for sure it can make your day if you take the time just to sit, and to look.

The irony here is that despite my resolve to stop work altogether for the summer to concentrate on this project, I still have been getting a lot done. Maybe 30 or 35 hours a week which is about half my normal work hours. Perhaps I should have done a little less over the past two years and felt a lot more focused and less tired? Who knows, but maybe I can learn from this not to go overboard. I do find it incredibly difficult to let my inbox explode though. I will struggle on with this no doubt.

I felt great today after two days rest – fit and strong. A wonderful feeling! And of course it showed in my efforts on the project. I did a good link though the crux twice in a row, as well as several improvements to my sequence. For sure there are more improvements to the sequence to be had yet. So more days of working myself hard are needed. But soonish (good weather and more progress taken for granted!) it will be time to move to a short phase of more intense endurance training away from the route. I will start making the shift tomorrow and Wednesday with some circuits at Sky Pilot or the climbing wall depending on the midge forecast.

Stage one of preparation is definitely over though. I could call this phase ‘squashing Ben Nevis’. Basically I needed to make the mountain feel small by raising my level of general fitness high enough so that just being up there day after day trying a big, hard, high route was no issue. Today I could skip about no bother and feel like I could do the same every day with several hours working moves on the project. Now I can get to grips with the next stage – a bottom to top link of the moves. Psyched.

Highland Life

Some rain whispers across the mountains of Ardgour. Taken from the Nevis Plateau.

Living in the highlands is proving a most interesting experience, with the differences to life in the city more pronounced than either of us really expected. One of the most interesting aspects is that people much less often have a single working occupation. It seems that there is much interesting work to be had, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and offering opportunities that would be extremely hard to come by elsewhere. This situation fits perfectly with an outdoor sporting regime. Also, it allows you to sample lots of different types of work. If you liked any one more than the others, you could just do that. But more often than not, it’s the actual variety itself that provides the appeal.

Looking down Loch Linnhe from Ben Nevis

I took two days out of my normal occupational spectrum to do some labouring work. But rather interesting labouring work (more on that later). Some friends needed to mix a lot of concrete in a short time, and figured I may be useful. It ended up being three days because Claire ended up double booked as a camera woman and I stood in yesterday for one of the jobs, filming the Ten Under the Ben mountain bike endurance race. While I filmed 900 riders belting around the Lochaber forests under the fierce sunshine, Claire was filming a wheelchair race up Ben Nevis for ITV.

I still tried to go climbing after my labouring shift on Friday, but on arrival at Echo Wall at tea time I judged myself to be too wasted to climb. Instead I went for a vertical wander elsewhere on the mountain and spotted an amazing winter project I am now utterly inspired by. It would also be a 4 star route in summer and maybe E7 or E8. But I decided to leave it alone and try it onsight in winter first.

Coming down that evening I could really feel energy levels were very spent. So I’ve put some time into eating a lot to get back to a point where I can touch a small hold and want to pull on it, rather than groan at the thought of pulling on it!

Winter ice gradually receding to reveal the Lochan in Coire na Ciste.

Climbing One Handed

A little piece from current TV about Kev Shields and his climbs, made by the Hot Aches team.

Step forward?

Echo Wall - the arête dry at last after the demise of the snowpatch of truth

In my last post I talked about taking one step back to make two forward. Climbing hard new routes is like this – a rollercoaster of progress and setbacks. You never know how things will turn out when you get to the next stage.

Yesterday I feel like I made three steps forward (superb!) but one large step back (doh!). This time Claire belayed me on the route on a massive top rope (100 metre rope) so I could begin making some big links now that I’ve had a good few sessions sussing the moves. The result was better than I expected with a link of the route with one hang (at the roof). Up to the roof does indeed feel like 8a+ (a scary E9 for a lead) and after the roof is 8b in itself, just to climb without placing the gear. But the problem is that it will be sick hard to stop and place the protection in the roof, especially the most crucial two wires. So overall linking plus placing the gear is looking physically harder than Rhapsody (8c or 8c+ish).

Looking back into the north face on the walk out

Unfortunately though, it gets worse. On my second attempt to link the wall above the roof, I fell at the final crux. A fall that would mean certain death on the lead. Oh dear.

I wasn’t sure if a shake out before this would allow good recovery so I could be confident I could get through the death crux every go. It seems not. So the route overall will be a bit like doing Rhapsody but the equivalent fall from the last move would be terminal.

But it’s not all doom and gloom – The up side is that my sequence is good and I feel strong enough for the route. All I need now is a vast improvement in endurance and to carry on with the constant mental preparations in the background.

Another fine sunset, the last in the present series, as it happens.

Separate from the climbing, we are also finding out that filming this climb is very far from easy. Much thought remains on adjusting our logistics…somehow??

It was almost a relief to see the return of the long lost Scottish rain, not seen in about a month! I have a couple of days work now before me next opportunity to do battle. Today was time for sheltering from the rain at the natural umbrella of Sky Pilot, trying to extend Cubby’s famous V9 traverse Beatle Back. Many days on this type of terrain are what is required now.

Normal service is resumed – rain clouds sweep in across the Lochaber mountains (from Sky Pilot).

Waiting for the body

Emulating the wisdom of Pusspuss. That cat knows how to do rest days.

You could see in my last post I was attempting to make myself feel a little less beaten with a bit of positive talk. Thanks for your comments on the post. It’s hard to explain, but feeling really beaten and slapped by a project is actually a great and essential thing to happen. It’s a strange feeling to be depressed from retrograde progress on the route, but pleased about this happening, all at the same time.

I guess the best way to describe it is to think of it as taking one step back to make two forward. Psychologically, it’s the real, in your face symptoms and prospect of failure, fatigue and pain that are the strongest calls to action. They make you get up and fight back like nothing else. That’s the mental aspect – so everything is good there. After a rest day, the ‘fire’ is back. That sounds cheesy, but that’s the best way to describe the return of a burning, impatient drive to run back up the mountain and rejoin the battle.

Physically, things are a bit different. I have to wait for my body to catch up. Because I am training properly for a single goal again, short term performance is removed from the priority list. Many climbers at a medium level fail to see off their ‘career best’ project because of this issue. Climbers want to their bodies to perform at their personal best level, every session, all year long. At an amateur level this is fine, but when the demands get heavier, some short term sacrifices have to be made.

To make real progress in physical training, you have to really work yourself. If you have been training long enough to handle it, this means daily work and feeling pretty wasted all the time. Feeling a little down in the dumps is totally normal during this time. When the time draws close to cash in on all this heavy work, we do something called ‘tapering’. Basically this means just going easy on yourself for a few weeks and allowing your body to fully recover and refuel from the effort. If you get all of this just right, the result is that you feel utterly bionic and destroy performance goals that were unimaginable before.

The really interesting stuff for me is to judge the intensity just right over the months of heavy work. Too little and it won’t be enough to do the route. Too much and I get injured. It’s a pretty fine line to walk and the messages from the body that inform you of which side you are veering on are not so easy to measure.

Tapering time for me begins whenever I can link Echo Wall on a toprope. If that happens some time this summer, things will get exciting. Until then, it’s time to go and put in some more hours at Sky Pilot.

introspection aloud

Today was my first day of feeling totally beaten by the Echo Wall project. I'm just not fit enough to deal with working it quickly. I keep telling myself all these days on the trot either on the route or training hard will be getting me in shape. But possibly it won't be enough. This thing is just not the same as something like Rhapsody - the climbing on that was quite tricky (at the time it was my limit) but it was right there - easy to sling a rope down in a few minutes and get climbing on it with nothing in the way. I've done the hard mountain routes like Birkett's and Dunne's too, but they were [relative to this] easy climbing - you just turn up, put in a day or two's work and crush it. This is different - the mix of 8c or harder climbing, the prospect of a groundfall on the lead, and the logistical challenge of climbing this so high on the north face of the Ben. That is why it will be another level beyond any of the other routes. That is what I am after on the whole.

I'm finding that it's too much for me to train hard to be in rock climbing shape to climb Echo Wall, and walk into the Ben several days a week to work on the route. Right now my body feels pretty worn out. Perhaps after a rest day, it'll all feel different? I guess thats all part of the experience of climbing and training hard. I've had that before too, and I'm looking forward to having the pring return to my step after 36 hours rest.

That I need to remind myself of here is that running into this type of 'wall' is what I'm here for. If I was looking for a route to nail in a couple of days, I could go do some more E9s or repeat some more routes in the Lakes like I did before. But I've done those things - I'm in this to get really worked. So, when it happens I should react well.

Reacting well may involve sleeping... now... goodnight.

PS: for my rest day I'm working at the new Go Outdoors store in Coatbridge Glasgow (Sunday), coaching youngsters and chatting to folk about gear, climbing etc. Maybe see you there?

Some good calls, some bad...

My fitness is obviously not there yet. I found myself completely unable to get my body to take me up the Ben for the third day in a row beasting myself on Echo Wall. Getting out from under the duvet felt like a good E7/8 in fact. It was a good call anyway with the cold winds one would normally expect of a highland spring returning to the glens.

So I went to Sky Pilot to work on a mammoth traverse project. The moves were done - a good feeling to hang from crimps for several hours. Today we we set off to return there, but after five I got the hesitancy and sensed the chilly wind might be cold enough for redpoints on the Skeleton boulder's big traverse instead. So we turned on our heels and headed for that. It was bitter up there in a howling gael!

The traverse there gets steadily harder all the way until some real gut busting tensiony moves on perfect crimpers bring it to a breathtaking culmination. I say breathtaking since I seemed to be unable to breathe for the last two moves (and the foot moves between them). There was so much tension, both physically to will my foot onto a distant foot move, and mentally, soo see if I could manage it - I could only hold my breath. Until, that is, I fell off in a heap and released all that tension in a big scream. People sometimes laugh at climbers who scream when they hit a move or fall off in climbing movies. When you see this one in our film, you will undoubtedly think it's ridiculous! But when you really concentrate hard and give a brutal, grinding physical effort on a climb, it's sometimes hard to make soft noises. The tension just has to come out, and sometimes it spills into your voice on it's way to be delivered at the muscles.

At the very last move I had a moment of intuition to change my sequence and use a different foot position, but stupidly I stuck to my usual way and fell off. Of course I pulled immediately back on to see if this new idea for the move that popped into my head worked - of course it did! A lesson learned. For now I have to wait until the next cold day before I can hang those razors again.

Tomorrow morning, the Allt a' Mhuillin pilgrimage begins again...

All that way to drop my shunt in a crevasse

After todays pilgrimage to Echo Wall I was well psyched to climb on it properly after last nights freezing conds. It was still below freezing, but I spent another hour finishing off the snowpatch with the shovel to get warm enough to think about climbing. After abbing down and more or less completing the cleaning and searching for gear I got my rock shoes on and proceeded to drop my shunt. It bounced down the slabs below straight into a super deep crevasse in the snow slopes below. Game over.

I could still mess about on single moves on the gri gri, and I did make much progress with figuring out the gear on the route. But still a pretty damn frustrating day. Back again tomorrow after a visit to the climbing shop...