BBC climbs; Handa and the caves DVD available

I’ve just added a new climbing DVD to the webshop. It’s the double DVD of two BBC programmes I shot last year. The first is a re-enactment of one of the first recorded climbs in the UK; a crossing by three men from the Western Isles onto the Great Stac of Handa in 1867. It was quite an experience to recreate their feat of daring and a window into a way of life now long gone. The inspiration to make a film about it came from an essay by Tom Patey in an old SMC journal, where he expressed his amazement at the strength and ingenuity of the Lewismen for rigging up a rope successfully and climbing across the huge gap to the stac. Patey himself had found the crossing desperate. To film it we had to get a 400m rope that was really thick (it weighed 45kgs) and cart it across Handa and then set it up spanning between the headlands on either side of the Stac. It was quite amazing the Lewismen thought to do it that way. 

The second film couldn't be more different. The huge networks of limestone caves underneath the dales of Yorkshire and the Peak District obviously have some fantastic rock features, but they aren’t normally visited by rock climbers! Myself and Alan Cassidy went on a wee mission to see if there was good rock climbing to be had in the caves. What we found was pretty adventurous and definitely out of the ordinary. First off we climbed the a big circular chamber of Jingling Pot in Yorkshire. It went at about E3 although that obviously doesn’t do it much justice since it was running with water and totally dark. But that was just a warm up for the 4-pitch monster 7c+ we climbed in Peak Cavern - the biggest cave opening in the peak, and our route was the first free climb In the whole cave. It was quite a lucky and special experience. Both programmes are 1 hour long.

It’s in the shop here.

Our new 4 pitch 7c+ in Peak Cavern on the Extraordinary Climbs film

Post surgery; 1 week

Things have gone well for me. Much better than I expected. 48 hours after surgery, I was on the campus board in TCA and doing easy problems foot-off. After my surgery last year, I couldn’t face this for nearly two weeks. By day 4 I was hobbling a little in the house and at day 7 walking quite normally, if still for very short distances.

Of course I’ve had a couple of ‘sore’ days. Yesterday I didn’t feel like doing anything too far from a sofa until it was time for my physio session in the evening. I’ve still not ventured out for anything more than a few minutes walk. But I’m well happy with the progress so far. Now I have my big fat bandage off, I can see that my foot is not so far from a shape that would accept a rockshoe.

The huge difference between this and my much slower progress in last year’s operation on the other ankle might be accounted for because the joint was much less ‘hot’ at the time of surgery. I.e. I was walking around on a partially functioning foot rather than on crutches on a swollen, angry ankle. 

Roll on the progress!

Ruthven Traverses

Ivory Coast Font 7c+ from Dave MacLeod on Vimeo.

On the way home from the Dolomites the other week, I stopped by at the Ruthven Boulder near Inverness for a session. Blair Fyffe had just added a long traverse at Font 7c (or route 8b - it’s 20 or 30 metres long!). Blair wrote a nice blog about it here. There was an obvious extended start to make it a bit more complete and I thought I’d have a look at that. I repeated the traverse from Blair’s start after a suss of the moves (I’d say it’s more like route 8a+) and then did it from the extended start which adds a great section across the roof on the left side of the boulder. This definitely knocks it up a grade to route 8b or Font 7c/+ish. It’s a classic endurance workout and dries very quickly, so I’m sure it will be keeping local climbers fit in the coming years. If you want the beta, check out the video above. Blair's trav starts from the big jug I bat-hang off. 

Thankfully, it isn’t over there. Where the traverse goes up a level at the crux of ‘The Big Lebowski’, there is an obvious low variation dropping down a bit and continuing on tiny crimpers. After two or three sessions, just before I headed to Glasgow for surgery, I almost got it. So I have something to go back to as soon as I can climb again. The crux is quite a lot harder than the high traverse and it’s going to go at around route 8c I think. Can’t wait to return..

Surgery's eve

Alan Cassidy on the big Dumbarton project

I was lucky enough to be able to climb recently despite my pending ankle surgery yesterday. For my last day before the appointment with the knife collection, I decided to team up with Alan Cassidy to go on a very inspiring project.

The wall right of Rhapsody at Dumbarton was bolted in the early nineties by the ever optimistic Andy Gallagher. Various very strong people had tried it and noone had made much impression on it. That’s a shame since it’s one of the best lines at an amazing crag, with superb rock and moves. I had a brief play one cold day around 8 years ago. I felt it was just possible but might be upwards of 9a+ minimum. I was getting kind of ‘full’ of climbing at Dumbarton at the time and left it for a life in the highlands.

Just as well Alan took an interest and looked at it again, giving it a proper clean for the first time. A couple of tiny, but useful holds appeared from under the lichen, that maybe tip it in the direction of possible, although the grade might still start with 9… 

I had a play and was most heartened to be able to do most of the individual moves. It’s clear that it goes and it’s pretty inspiring. I found it kind of ridiculous to be back there after several years, working on the line I’d left behind, thinking that some youth will come along and do it. That will probably still happen, but it’s surprising to me that it hasn't already. There are plenty of folk with the finger strength. All it would take is the attitude. Anyway, it left me with a nice feeling of inspiration with which to enter surgery rehab mode the next day.

I didn’t have to be in hospital until 2.30pm, so at the last minute I jumped out the door first thing and was at Lennoxtown for 8am to look at the other arete project Alex had told me about. I found it (at least I presume it’s the same line?) and it looked amazing! I settled into figuring out it’s exquisite moves for around 30 minutes and realised I was quite close to getting it. Unfortunately it was raining heavily and the sloping topout was running water. I linked it from the start to the topout three times but wasn’t able to pull over on the soggy slopers. Unfortunate, but I’ll still enjoy it when I next get the chance to get on it.

Lennox Castle arete project

After that it was back to reality and a sober drive to hospital to get cut up. The surgeon and staff did a great job and everything went well for me. I was quite terrified of what the surgeon would find in my ankle joint. But it ended up not being as bad as I feared. He pulled several large osteophytes (i.e. Loose chunks of bone) out of the joint and gave a couple of them to me afterwards. I’m not totally sure if they all broke off when I fell off Hold True the other week, or some time before that. Either way, I’m glad to see them out.

No wonder my ankle hurt

Right now, on day one of recovery, I’m totally psyched to get started on a return to fitness. It’s always refreshing to start with a clean slate and reassess all aspects of your game - What climbs do I want to do? What physical weaknesses should I take time to address? There’s plenty to be getting on with.

Supporting Scottish mountain rescue

A good while ago I wrote some posts about Mountain Rescue and ideas on how they might improve their funding. It’s good to see some new developments there: Scottish Mountain Rescue, who represent and co-ordinate the individual rescue teams across the country have secured some corporate sponsorship from Isle of Skye Whisky. 

At the moment, rescue gets some funding from the Scottish government, but it’s not nearly enough to keep the teams going in the ever increasing costs of rescuing folk in the Scottish mountains. For those of us who live around Ben Nevis for example, the seemingly nightly buzz of the rescue helicopter through the winter is a reminder of just how hard they have to work and how much the service is pushed these days.

Donating when and where you can really ought to be something all folk who go into the hills should do. So many of us have a friend or relative who has needed a rescue, or will do one day. Odds are it will save that person’s life. So it’s important. You can do it easily here, by the way.

I was asked to go along to the launch day of the campaign that Scottish Mountain Rescue and Isle of Skye Whisky are starting in Glen Nevis to take pictures to publicise the campaign in the papers and speak to Reporting Scotland. The amazing SARDA rescue dog sat stock still for 20 minutes for these pictures. 

As well as encouraging direct donations through their ability to attract a lot of attention as a big company, they are donating 15p per bottle of whisky sold to Scottish Mountain Rescue. I hope it raises enough to keep the teams equipped and able to keep doing such an amazing job. I hope I never need them myself, but I certainly am thankful that they are there.

Lectures and masterclasses coming up

I’ll be talking about the Eiger among other adventures in various lectures this autumn. Photo: Alexandre Buisse

If you fancy coming to hear about my climbing adventures and how I do the climbs I do, come along to some of the lectures I’m doing this autumn. Maybe see you at one of these places:

Oct 26th Dundee: I’m speaking for Tiso and the Dundee Rucksack Club for their 90 anniversary celebration. Tickets and more details on that coming shortly on Tiso’s site.

Nov 3rd: I’m speaking at the Ice Factor’s Festival of Ice and running climbing masterclasses in both rock and mixed climbing. The Festival will be a mega event. You should check out all the things that are going on there. The technique classes will fill up quickly so you should call Claire on 07813060376 to book a place. I’ll be running the rock technique classes 10-noon and 4-6pm, the mixed/dry tooling class 2-4pm and giving a talk at lunchtime.  Cost is £40 for a place on one of my classes. The event is to raise money for Climber’s against cancer.

Nov 4th Aberdeen: I’m speaking at the Aberdeen Tiso store. Tickets available at the store, £5, although you can enquire online about tickets from here by clicking on the start time at the bottom.

Nov 28th London: I’m speaking at the Royal Geographical Society for their annual Porter’s Progress lecture. Tickets here.

Dec 13th Bozeman Ice Festival, USA. I’m speaking at the festival and running ice/mixed technique clinics on Dec 14th.

See you there!

Esoteric Gems

Gordon Bombay, Font 7c+ from Dave MacLeod on Vimeo.

Esoteric gems are gems nonetheless. Yesterday I had to be in Edinburgh for a meeting with my Gore-Tex colleagues. On the way back I decided to swing past for a look at a couple of newly developed boulders near Lennoxtown.

Alex Gorham found and developed a handful of problems on lovely sandstone in the woods near the old Lennox Castle mental hospital. He waxed lyrical about the problems to me in TCA recently and had me keen for a look, even before I’d seen the excellent video on Alex and Jen's blog of his first ascent of Gordon Bombay (Font 7c+).

I went and repeated the problem after about an hour of finding the sequence. I thought I was going to get it on my second try, but the wrong sequence of toe hooks near the end seemed to get even more wrong before I figured out a better way. Toe hooks are one of my favourite moves, so I enjoyed it immensely and will be back to explore the area a bit more soon.

The place is only 20 minutes from my mums house, right near my earliest climbing haunts of Dunglas and Craigmore, where I climbed before I even got my first pair of rockshoes. Back then I would have been totally over the moon to come across that roof (and the other excellent problems). I regret not having a stronger exploratory zeal at the time. But as a youngster I just looked in the guidebook for what others had done and didn’t think so independently. It took a few years before I realised there was nothing stopping me from just going out and searching for great new routes that were obviously out there, hiding in the local hills and forests.

Fortunately, as a 35 year old, I still get over the moon to go and seek out and climb such a great problem. Even now it looks like the area will lend at least one more project to give me an excuse to return.

It's well worth checking out the video below of Alex doing it. It's pretty obvious our different shapes (me being a short chap) means we climb it quite differently in places. The other problems, especially Wow Jen (V5) are great too!

Lennoxtown Boulders from Alex Gorham on Vimeo.

Bellavista on 3.5 limbs

Cold but happy climbers after Bellavista. Photo: Alan Cassidy (you should read his blog, it’s really good)

Before my ‘long shot’ trip to Bellavista with Alan Cassidy, I had a small hiccup. I was leading Hold Fast, Hold True (E9) in Glen Nevis a week before we were leaving and didn’t quite catch a hold right after the crux, slipping off and decking out from rather higher than one would like. I got away lightly, with quite nasty whiplash and a sprained left ankle. I was able to walk, well, between the kettle and the couch anyway. So I felt it wouldn’t be a problem for the upcoming trip.

I left it 5 days and then tried to get a couple of pre-trip training sessions in TCA before we left. To my dismay, I discovered that I couldn’t even nearly get a rockshoe on my fat, bruised foot. I had a session of one-footed traversing anyway and then went for an X-ray since things seemed to be getting more, not less painful. Sure enough, a couple of bone spurs that have restricted my left ankle dorsiflexion ever since I broke it in 1997 had broken off and are irritating my ankle joint. Some day surgery awaits. I’m quite looking forward to a couple of weeks of Beastmaker abuse during the Lochaber monsoon next month.

By the day we left for Cima Ovest, I’d managed to walk round Morrison’s, take Freida to toddler group and lie on my side in bed without taking Tramadol first. Things were looking up!

Alan trying to get the psyche to rock climb in winter climbing conditions

As I wrote in my last blog, we then proceeded to spend most of the trip being hammered by crap weather. The route was soaking, it rained, snowed, snowed a lot more and then got windy and freezing. We tried to climb on the 8c pitch anyway, but both of us knew we were getting absolutely nowhere. We became totally set in the viewpoint that having been soaking all week, the chances of it drying out a bit in our remaining three days were zilch.

Being practical, or venting wet weather frustration? You decide.

But it didn’t quite work out like that. On the third last day, I went out for a look on the 8c pitch first. The first half was still wet, but the second half was nearly dry, and I could link it to the belay straight away. Quite good. Alan went for his go and was also feeling like he could get to grips with the pitch a bit more. But then, as he was out of sight near the end of the pitch, I heard an “AAAAAGGHHH!”. The rope jerked momentarily tight, then suddenly slack again. Another loud scream and Alan appeared into view, dropping through space. He stopped, dangling at least 15 metres down in the void, with quickdraws sporting ripped pegs spinning down the rope towards him.

He was just sitting on a peg, brushing another damp hold when it ripped and the previous one ripped too. It must have been an exciting journey into space! After having a good laugh about Alan’s trip, we had a think about where this left us. There was now a big section near the end of the pitch with no gear in it. We were on budget flight mode and hadn’t been able to bring any pegs or aid gear in case we needed to re-equip. 

In the end, we managed to borrow a hammer from the lovely folk at Rifugio Auronzo and I set up a tension traverse to back-aid and free climb back along from the next belay to the bit that needed re-equipping. I managed to get a sketchy cam in a pocket and gingerly sat on it and proceeded to fail to get the two ill fitting pegs to go in somewhere other than where they’d been before. After an hour, I had it sorted and the route was back online.

However, we had one day left. I just wanted to get the gear back and get home. Everything  was wrong and I felt a bit fed up to be honest. My ankle hurt on the walk-in, I couldn’t do certain movements with it on the rock, I’d had my fill of climbing wet rock or frozen rock, we’d not had even one good day to try it properly. Worst of all, it was baltic.

Shall we go climb an 8c north face route today?

We’d not seen a single other party climbing on the north faces all trip. I’m not surprised. On the last day we wandered up, both of us ready to strip it and get on our plane home. Alan climbed the first three pitches (7b, 6c+, 6a+) in one big pitch again. He was clearly struggling to get any feeling from fingers and toes. It was well below zero and blowing a bitter wind. Seconding him, I felt like a frozen robot, clawing up the rock with zero feedback from my digits. Leading the next two pitches (7a, 7a+) I still couldn’t even get my core warm despite climbing in my Arete jacket. However, by the time a freezing Alan joined me, the wind had dropped a bit and I was feeling more myself with the full belay jacket and trousers armoury on.

I went out along the start of the 8c and was most surprised to find a special scenario of feelings come over me that doesn’t happen every day. The pitch was the driest it had been all trip. First, there was the sudden rushing feeling of being confident flowing through the moves rather than constantly expecting to ‘ping’ off wet holds. ‘I can still climb!’ Second, the ‘last day’ go for broke mentality clicked into place. When all the preparation has gone so badly, what do you have left except to see what can happen if you just don’t care anymore and go for a good fight with the pitch? Finally, I knew I was going to have one link attempt, so I might as well get it over with as quickly as possible and get home to see my family.

Alan drying holds on one of the 'warm' days

So after the five minute warm up burn, I blasted off at full tilt, through the crux and onto the weird back-and-foot rest at the block above. I wasn’t that pumped. So get going! Up through the mono move and onto the big traverse. I was breathing hard but forearms were absorbing the hit so far. At the undercut move I decided to start really trying and grunted through. But I was able to rest each hand on every hold. I got down to the move before a rest at a huge ‘Hueco’ pocket. My sequence is to fling my feet up into the hole first, have a rest in the bat hang and then flip round and throw my whole arm into it. My ankle was so weak I couldn’t pull up on the toehooks and nearly fell off. I took a few seconds more to figure out what to do, before resting my left foot once and then trying again. It worked and I hung from the arm-bar for five minutes, breathing slowly calming down. The final ten metres was a pure exercise in relaxation. I knew I could get to the belay if I didn’t make a mistake. The only way I’d make a mistake would be if I started to anticipate success. So I just switched off and pneumatic-ed through the holds with no emotion until the belay suddenly appeared in front of me.

Switching off completely means that when you do wake up and realise it’s done, it’s quite a shocker and the emotion comes flooding back. Alan wasted no time in gathering every down garment we had assembled at the belay and jugged up to join me, already shivering. I thawed out a little in the duvet while Alan cruised the 8a pitch above. I still had to jug up the rope and be lowered back down to do it myself, just to get the blood moving. The wind just kept cutting through me and in the next two pitches (6c+, 7a) I got really pumped on what should be easy ground. There just seemed to be no blood going through my forearms. We both had to second the remaining pitches to the Cassin ledge in the big jackets and duvet trousers! Never done that before, even in mixed climbing. There was just time to strip our gear out of the roof as it was getting dark and made it down to the base to find everything was frozen solid. We packed, rushed back to the car, then Venice for three hours sleep before boarding our flights back to Scotland.

It was really interesting for me to share the experience with Alan, who hasn’t done a great deal of mountain big wall climbs. Failing when the route is hard is something most climbers can deal with pretty well - why else do we try such hard climbs except to feel pushed and feel uncertainty? But failing through not being able to properly try can get under your skin. I certainly still find that creates a lot of restlessness in me. Last week I channelled it into finishing a draft of my book while the blizzards raged outside. Alan took it all really well and was able to keep turning on 'mission mode' all the way on the last day redpoint, despite the scary fall the previous day. His blogs through the week are a nice illumination of an adventure unfolding, the final twist coming right at the last hours before the flight home.

Even now I can’t believe that came together.

Waiting to actually try on Bellavista

Last month after the Eiger I came to the Dolomites with Calum to have a go at Bellavista, Alex Huber’s famous 8c on the north face of Cima Ovest. We had one day on it when it was wet and then had to leave when faced with a forecast of a week of thunderstorms.

Not liking being defeated, I hastily arranged a return in September for a long shot week on it with Alan Cassidy. A long shot because it might be getting a little cold by then for alpine north face 8c. The roof pitches on Bellavista suffer from dampness a lot. Sometimes, it’s just damp, and it’s ok for getting on it, if a little slippery. But this time it’s been just wet, soaking bloody wet. And when it's not wet, it's full on winter.

On our first day it was actually a bit drier, but about minus 2 with a strong gusty wind bringing in some snow flurries. I went for a session in the roof and made a bit of progress even though I was shivering quite amusingly by the time I got back to the belay. Alan took one look at me from the comfort of the belay jacket and opted to go down. Sensible.

After that it did warm up to around 3 or 4 degrees on the wall, but the warm humid air on freezing rock made it soaking. We opted to go up and do the 8a pitch above the 8c which we both could do pretty easily despite the wetness.

Overnight and this morning the conditions have turned back to full on blizzards and so once again we are sitting it out. We have a couple more days but It’s looking almost certain that if it warms up again it’ll take longer than that for the slime to dry off that roof.

Nevermind, at least we have tried. And I have done a lot of writing...

Testing Gore-Tex Pro ME jackets on the Ben

Why we use GORE-TEX® Pro from MOUNTAIN EQUIPMENT on Vimeo.

Some filming we did on Ben Nevis on the spring talking about why Mountain Equipment use Gore-Tex Pro for it’s shell jackets and how we dream up, design and test the jackets. Interesting to hear a bit more detail about the tech that goes into fabrics and jackets.