Weather beaten on Hoy

The huge swell kicked up by storm force southwesterlies last Friday got the better of my date to speak about the Long Hope route back on Hoy itself. It’s a bit ironic really that the most important lecture of quite a lot I’ve done this winter should be the one that didn’t work out. I was really looking forward to talking to the locals about what all the fuss was about for me visiting the island all those times.

It was OK though, at least the great audience that turned out in Hoy Kirk watched the film and apparently had a fun night. Sorry about that, and wish it could have worked out a bit better! I only found out the weather had finally got the better of the ferry schedule when I’d driven all the way up to Thurso. Not so keen to turn around and drive the way I came, I decided to go on a tour across to the west and see what could be seen.

I spotted this fantastic and massive boulder on the beach near Tongue. Apparently called The Keystone. I’d say you’d be hard pushed to find a better looking V5 anywhere than the flakes leading right out through the overhang.

Ben Loyal looks like an interesting mountain. I’d love to do a route here sometime. No doubt I’ll get back for a wander about soon. 

I finished the day on a ridiculously hard boulder project near Sheigra, which after 7 hours driving and a mad dash across the moors in the failing light, 70mph winds and hail squalls didn’t go great. But it raised the psyche for the big drive home.

Nice Broch near Ben Loyal

The failure of my Hoy trip meant I could go to some family events in Glasgow. I had three bottles of beer and tried to climb the next day at TCA. Oh dear, I couldn’t get off the floor without shaking myself of the wall in a gibbering heap. Pathetic. Must do better.

Lectures in February

The last of my lectures for a while are happening in February - see you at some of these hopefully:

This Saturday (Jan 28^th) I’m speaking at Rheged in the Lakes. Details and tickets here.

On February 3^rd I’ll be in the audience for a change while Claire gives the lecture! She is speaking at Roy Bridge Memorial Hall, 7.30pm about her mountain film making adventures and jumping out of planes. Tickets on the door - £4 and you’ll also get some food and a cup of tea!

On February 8^th I’m speaking along with Andy Turner and Paul Diffley at the Royal Geographical Society in London about the Long Hope. After the lecture we’ll show the film too and there will be an opportunity to gather for a good chat at the bar during the evening. Details and tickets here.

On February 24^th I’m speaking in Hoy Kirk, Hoy, Orkney about the Long Hope and showing the film. Looking forward to being back on the island! It’ll be a good chance for me to explain to everyone I saw out and about around Orkney what all the fuss was about that kept me returning to St John’s head trip after trip. Start time 6.30pm.

After that I’m away on a long climbing trip. See you there!

Climbing coaching sessions at Fort William Mountain Festival

On Friday 17th of Feb I’m running some daytime climbing technique masterclasses at the Ice Factor in Kinlochleven as part of the Fort William Mountain Festival. The sessions will be 2 hours long and there will be 6 spaces on each session. I’ll give you a fairly intense couple of hours of climbing technique advice, coaching and inspiration! To take part you have to be a climber and be used to a climbing wall, but it doesn’t matter what level you are at. You’ll learn a lot whether you are climbing at a fairly basic level or a pretty serious climber. 

The sessions will take place at 10am-12pm, 12.30pm-2.30pm and 3pm- 5pm. It costs £35 per climber (pay on the day) as well as your normal climbing wall entry fee at the Ice Factor. I get a lot of requests to give coaching and these classes will fill up pretty fast so give Claire a ring on 07813 060376 to book your place quick!

That evening at the festival is the mountaineering evening with showings of the brilliant film ‘Vertical Sailing’ about big wall exploring in Greenland and also the Longhope film about my own mini-big wall climb on Orkney.

Over on my events page you'll see I'm also giving a lecture at Rheged in the Lakes on Jan 28th and at the Royal Geographical Society in London on Feb 8th (more about that in a minute).

Long Hope - Kendal people’s choice

Andy Turner, myself, Paul Diffley, Ed Drummond and Oilver Hill at the Long Hope premiere, KMF. Photo: Henryiddon.com

It was a nice atmosphere at the premiere of the film about the Longhope Route in Kendal on Friday night. Ed Drummond was on good form to say a few words after the film and it was cool to have 5 of the 6 people who have climbed that route in our various different styles in one place. Thanks to folks who voted for it and gave it the people’s choice award of the Kendal festival. DVD’s are still being made but will be with us soon. Thanks to everyone who has pre-ordered so far.

It’s a strange experience presenting a film of a climb like this. For the audience, it’s the first time they’ve been able to see the story really get a feel for this climb. For me, it’s really the end of the process. I was sitting watching it with everyone else, feeling happy with my memories of that cliff. But they are just that - memories. The only meaning it has for me is contained within the film; that watching it will motivate others to have good adventures of their own.

Since climbing the route in June, I’ve been doing some basic training, and doing a lot of work (as in bill paying work) to set myself up for next years adventures. I have the restlessness to find new things again! Some projects, like those around my home area of Glen Nevis will come down to training and dedication. There are also some fantastic onsight climbs I’d like to try this winter. After last winter’s time out with an impending new baby I’m looking forward to learning to use the ice axe again. I’ll need to start from a low base, which is always great fun to just enjoy repeating others routes for a little bit.

First though, I have one more week of work, coaching abroad, exploring some untouched limestone. I’ll post up some pictures...

Long Hope DVD available for pre-order

The Long Hope DVD is now up in the shop for pre-order. 

The master disc is off to the DVD manufacturers and DVD stock usually takes a couple of weeks or so to be manufactured. If you did manage to get tickets to the premiere in Kendal before it sold out, we are hoping to have a handful of advance copies there but if you don’t make it to that, pre-ordering it now will mean you’ll get it the fastest way possible. We’ll dispatch orders for it as soon as we get hold of the stock.

A lot of folk ask for their DVD signed, which is no problem of course! Just ask in the ‘special instructions’ field of the checkout form.

The running time of the film is 60 minutes and there are lots of extra films on the DVD: My ascent of Indian Face, Mucklehouse Wall on Hoy and naturally, The Old Man of Hoy.

It’s in the shop here.

Longhope DVD is not far away

We’ve just finished arranging the DVD artwork for the Long Hope film which may be finished by the time you read this and off to the DVD manufacturers. Paul Diffley has been doing sterling work editing it and must have earned a beer or three at Kendal after the premiere. Speaking of the premiere at Kendal - it’s already sold out! So if you want to be there, your only chance now is to enter the Mountain Equipment competition to win tickets for it. All you have to do is leave a comment here.

For those of you who don’t get tickets, the DVD will be out when it comes back from the manufacturers and we’ll put it up for pre-order in the shop soon so watch this space.

The film is looking really great, although I would say that. I reckon it almost makes you want to go and climb a fulmar infested loose big wall sea cliff in the middle of nowhere. Extras on the DVD include the film of my ascent of The Indian Face (E9), Mucklehouse Wall (E5 5c, 5c, 6a) on Hoy and of course our ascent of the Old Man of Hoy.

Other things coming up - The Stac of Handa re-enactment I shot the other week with the BBC has a provisional slot on BBC2 Scotland/iPlayer as an Adventure Show special on Nov 22nd at 19.00.

Longhope fine art prints

Along with Lukasz Warzecha we are producing a limited edition of 100 fine art prints of his great image above  showing the first ascent of The Longhope route, E10/11, Orkney.  We thought it really grabs you as an inspiring climbing image of a special route, so it would be nice to make a print available.  I have signed and numbered each print. The prints are A3, unframed with a white border and are printed on Ilford Pearl paper and are £75 (shipping worldwide as always). The actual print is not watermarked with the LWimages text. The prints are available in the webshop right here. 

If you’re into your climbing photography Lukasz is running a weekend  photography workshop in North Wales Sept 30th-Oct 2nd. I’m going along to do be in front of the camera (hopefully doing some good climbs!). There a few spaces left. Details on Lukasz’ site.

some film from the Longhope

Little taster from Matt Pycroft of the shooting he did on the Longhope Route. Man that is some airy swing into space Matt! Full article is on Planetfear here.

Returning from Orkney

On Rats Stole my Toothbrush E5/6, Mucklehouse Wall

I wrote this on the way home from our trip to Orkney, having had a great time. The final days were mostly spent gathering some really cool footage for our film about the Longhope route which we’ll prepare for the autumn.

Ed Drummond revisiting St John’s Head. Photo Lukasz Warzecha

For the last few days we also had a nice visit from Ed Drummond who stayed with us and walked back in to St John’s head to see his route again, 41 years after his original ascent. We filmed his return to the climb, his perspectives on it and it’s place in his life, which were very interesting. He felt the reports of my ascent were a little unfair in describing his ascent in 1970 as an old aid route, given that apart from the complete aid pitch on the top headwall, they only used around 10-15 points of aid up to the A2 crack. Of course this was a remarkable climbing feat and in what sounds like the ethic of the day for big wall routes. It’s hard for people to imagine how hardcore it was to venture onto the world’s big walls before anyone else and without cams etc.

Nowdays, I guess things are a categorised a little more cut and dry. There is less room for caveats and details in sport. In my opinion this has it’s good and bad points. Simplicity raises the game. For example - a point of aid makes it an ‘aid route’? Yes or no? It sounds like in 1970 the answer would maybe be no but now maybe yes as the climbing game has evolved. Oliver Hill referred to my ascent of the Longhope as a rehearsed ascent. I’m totally happy with that even though I climbed 4/5 of it onsight. If I rehearsed only one move it’s still a redpoint. It has to be. There is no room to make compromise look like success with redpointing - it has to be in one push with no falls. A side effect is it makes it easier for others to quantify it later when they are not familiar with the details. More importantly, on a personal level it’s good when the finish line between success and failure is absolute, binary. You either succeeded or failed to redpoint.

Simplicity can be a bad influence when it obscures or distorts the real picture or just dumbs everything down. Even words so central to sport like “winner” and “loser” must be applied carefully. If you have been watching tennis recently they keep talking about “great champions”. But there seems to be so many great champions they need a new definition already to stand out from them. It’s not enough even to refer to them as just “champions”, never mind “players” or even “people”. Edi Stark didn’t seem to want to accept my response to her question about how it felt to have done some climbs that are out of reach of some or most others. I said it was ‘nice’ to have found such a good connection with an activity like climbing. “Nice?” she repeated back to me with a mocking sarcasm. ‘Nice’ didn’t seem to cut it. Either that or it cut me out as an awkward personality? With the exception of an overflow of enthusiasm which is a fine excuse to dispense with caution, I feel there is no need to always attach larger than life language, deeper meanings or metaphors to my experiences in climbing or elsewhere. A climb is the expression of the climber through vision for the line, preparation of the skills and movement. And it is an appreciation inherent beauty of the rock and the place as well. These things are already special in their own right. They do not need sweetening or plumping up.

Having succeeded on my own climbing vision on the Longhope route with Andy, my feeling is not of me, the climber, being at the centre of the story and I do not feel any bigger or more worthy as a result of it. Rather completing my climbing involvement on this particular cliff leaves me with a greater appreciation of the scale, permanence and impermanence of different things in nature and this has been what is awe inspiring about it. I think that climbing and mountains have a great effect on peoples lives when it helps them to appreciate their true insignificance in the world both in scale and time. Paradoxically though this actually adds to the sense of meaning in life because you simply see more clearly how you fit into the world. In the process of appreciating your insignificance, you also get closer to a true sense of your significance.

How then, do you deal with another great paradox of a major effort on a big climb; that of the feeling of invincibility that climbing can give when you are performing well and at your limit. Of course if you step back it’s obvious that the feeling cannot really be invincibility or anything approaching it. So if it’s a misinterpretation, what is the correct one? I have felt happiest in climbing when I’ve seen this feeling not as wielding personal strength or power over my climbing environment, but as aligning to it, understanding it well enough to work in harmony with it. This idea of harmony with the medium, in this case rock, is so well known that it’s a cliche. Where does the difference lie between these two subtly different interpretations of the same raw feeling. The most frustrated, isolated or bored climbers I’ve met have been those who appear to chase after brief flashes of invincibility in themselves over nature instead of seeing brief flashes of the invincibility of nature in themselves.

Getting them in on Orkney

The soaring crack pitch of Mucklehouse Wall, E5 6a

Since completing the Longhope Direct, our trip on Orkney has been light of step but heavy of leg. The team are all feeling a tad fatigued from great efforts of rigging, filming and eating a lot of cake to replace all the calories that you seem to burn here. For me it’s been a lovely slow release and realisation that the route is done and I can wake up a little more to the sights and sounds of Hoy without the blinkering weight of focus on the project that tends to eclipse everything else.

So I’ve had a chance to squeeze in a couple of climbs in between filming the nature of the place a little more. I always felt that if I could manage to complete the route it would be really nice to make a film about it because everything about it - the scenery, nature and character of Hoy, not to mention the climb itself leaves quite an impression. Filmmaking is hard work to do well, so now the climb is done, the hard work begins again.

Myself and Guy nipped up the Old Man of Hoy the other morning before some rather more arduous filming. Andy and I also had a great evening on the 4 pitch E5 Mucklehouse Wall. You can see in the little clip below from my compact, you have to clean most of the sandy breaks as you go, and the top pitch was rather seepy but the climbing and exposure was just amazing. Once again the difference between new routing and just going cragging is massive. It’s just so much easier on the head to know that there are holds up there somewhere to go for because someone has passed before.

The nature of the movement here, and the approach to climbing generally couldn’t be more different from what I’m used to. On hard rock I’m just so used to pulling super hard on small holds. On a good bit of the sandstone here, if you are really cranking on a small hold, then you’re probably doing it wrong, or about to break the rock. It’s very steep, but you can’t really sprint - go to fast and a sandy hold will catch you off guard. A steady, confident pace yields the most reliable upward progress. 

I must admit to feeling a little sleepy from a combination of fatigue from the big effort of Tuesday, and the knock on effects of teething. It’s too bad as the coming days are filled to the brim with plans of filming, rigging, derigging, climbing, and walking with heavy equipment through the sponge bogs of of the Hoy hills.

Andy Turner, new route, Rora Head

Airy traverse pitch on Mucklehouse Wall

Perfect rock on Mucklehouse pitch 4

Guy Heaton starts up the Old Man of Hoy

Hungry mouths

Longhope Direct

 

Approaching the guillotine flake before the crux pitch or the Longhope Direct. Photo: LW Images

Starting into the crux Photo: LW Images

Bringing Andy Turner up to the Guillotine belay. Photo: LW Images

The Longhope route was first climbed as an aid route by Ed Drummond and Oliver Hill in 1970. After climbing it yesterday I have a doubly renewed respect for the boldness of climbers of that period. To venture up that cliff without cams, taking the steepest line possible was a hardcore effort. They spent 7 days climbing the route, sleeping in hammocks or in the big sandstone breaks with the fulmars. Dawes and Dunne both had a look at freeing it, albeit briefly. It was the adventure trad master John Arran, and sea cliff guru Dave Turnbull who really went for the free ascent. Over two days, they freed the lower pitches with a bivi in between and then bailed off left. A few months later, they returned, abseiling from the summit of the stack to their highpoint and climbing four more pitches to the top across another two days.

But they considered Drummond’s A2 crack pitch up the centre of the overhanging headwall too hard for free climbing, which it really was given that they were climbing ground up and the pitch was going to be in the region of E10 in itself. So they climbed the big grooves to the left, traversing back in after a couple of pitches to climb the last 8 metres of the crack, which was the crux of their version which went at E7 6c after lots of tries.

Oliver Hill emailed me in 2006 pointing out that the crack pitch of the original line was still there to be freed and would make a super hard trad route that seemed like a logical progression from the single pitch E10s and E11s of the past few years. Most of the world’s hardest multipitch routes with climbing of 8b or above are essentially sport routes, protected by bolts, insitu pegs or trad with bolts wherever there isn’t good gear available. Oliver thought I should bolt the Longhope route, to make it realistic. But I wasn’t really worried about having a drawn out epic trying to climb it. My idea was to have a super hard long route that was bold, loose, birdy, hard to climb in a day - as pure as possible. That’s absolutely what Scottish sea cliff climbing is about.

So a drawn out epic was exactly what I had. Lots of driving back and forth to Orkney, many days of cleaning the headwall pitch and trying the moves and a two attempts from the ground, climbing the lower pitches on sight with Michael Tweedley and Donald King.

This time, I took the full weight of pressure and organised a proper trip with Andy Turner to climb it with, and a team to help us capture it on film and photos (Claire MacLeod, Paul Diffley, Lukasz Warzecha, Matt Pycroft, Guy Heaton and Mariam Pousa). It’s quite scary bringing a team of people to watch you fall off a large rock for two weeks. I’m super appreciative of the help that was offered from Mountain Equipment, Black Diamond, and Stoats with the trip.

The crawl traverse on pitch 2.

Climbing it in a day was the big deal for the difficulty of the route. I knew the crux pitch,65 metres long and around 8b+ish with some long runouts would feel about 90% of my limit. But could I climb the 400 odd metres below without losing 10% of the strength in my arms. When I got to the guillotine belay before the big pitch, the answer felt like most definitely NO! I was knackered. If the pitch was 8a+ or even 8b on trad, it would be fine. But I knew it was hard enough that it just wouldn’t work if I didn’t have the energy to pull down on those wee edges. 

As I brought Andy up I could feel a sinking sense of failure on the route and the huge waste of opportunity. I started to wonder if the odd missed training session here and there would have made the difference? Should I not have eaten this or that? The chance to be on this route, in good conditions, with a good partner is so special. As I get older I sense more and more strongly all the time that life moves on, opportunities pass - for good. Just to have opportunity is such a gift. Wasting half chances is just not on. 

With this in mind and swallowing a lot of nerves, I launched up the pitch for an all out fight with no inhibitions or hesitation. On the final crux before joining John Arran’s E7 section,  All I could see was the outline of the jug above me. I grabbed it and screamed with utter relief. All that was needed was to use a bit of experience to hold it together and scrap my way through The E7 part, the final roofs and the final fulmars to the summit.

Today I’m eating cake in Stromness. Time to take Freida for a walk along the high street.

Looking down the Vile Crack pitch

Andy approaching the fulmar puke ledge ledge after pitch 1. Note the vomit splat bottom left, which went via my trousers.

More photos and video to be had on Matt Pycroft and Hot Aches pages.

Rain, drizzle, mist, clag

Lukasz’ mobile wifi service

The team slog it

It was nice when we got here

Freida enjoyed the beach

I’m writing this post which means our trip  on Orkney is not going according to plan. Just now I should be uncoiling ropes at the foot of my project. Instead we are drinking tea, watching drizzle settle on the road outside and looking at ferry times to Kirkwall. 

On Hoy it seems very easy for a lot of time to pass. Day 1 was great, I had a session on the crux and felt fit and rigged about 400m of rope for the guys filming (pics on Lukasz’ blog). Yesterday I rested tired arms after that and took Freida to see the sea. Today was time to get down to business. Nevermind.

I’m not sure whether this type of this should make you highly impatient, or cleanse you of impatience? Actually I don’t mind waiting too much, even though the forecast isn’t exactly great. But a 45 board would come in handy right now.

North again

I’m off up tomorrow (Ha! Today actually - another late night typing…) with Claire, Freida, Andy Turner, Diff, Lukasz and others for a good trip to Orkney. We’ll either be dodging fulmars on the cliffs or dodging showers and eating Stoats bars all day back at basecamp. Fingers crossed for the former.

It’s going to be cool to go for a proper trip, so long as we get some weather of course. I’ve mostly been there with Claire or just by myself and for short trips, so I’m interested to see how things go if we can get really involved with the route this time. Claire has been filming all my work on this project for the past two summers. This year we are teaming up with Diff from Hot Aches to help us keep filming. Mountain Equipment have really helped out a lot with organising this trip too. Lukasz is coming to take pictures. I think he’ll be impressed with the cliff. As will Andy. He sounds a little apprehensive on his blog, which seems funny to me, him being a machine and all. I’m quite sure Andy is a lot stronger than the Hoy sandstone. Oh, hang on, that’s the problem isn’t it!

Stoats is supporting us on Orkney with Stoats porridge and porridge bars! I’ve been munching Stoats bars on Scottish mountains for some time and thought it would a good time to get in touch with Tony for a chat about some oats. Many a crux pitch has previously fallen to the power of a good breakfast of oats. Let’s keep up the tradition..

Right I’m off to bed, to worry.

Fresh visits to Orkney begin

St John’s Head, Hoy, Orkney. It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it? I am in the picture, but you'll probably not spot me.

I just got back from two days work on my project on Orkney with progress made. Fitness is starting to materialise at last, a finger injury is becoming less and less of a bother, and logistics are ironing out.

Cleaning a new finish

I was keen to see if it was possible to finish the route over a series of roofs right at the top of the wall. So rather than the original finish skirting out right around the roofs for an easy escape, the last pitch is a ~ 70 metre pitch of around 8b+ on the top rope. Although I don’t how it’ll feel with a rack of big camalots for such a long pitch on my harness? I had thought it was going to weigh in around 8c but a miniscule foothold discovery on the crux on this trip might just take the edge off it. It's funny how a foothold about 1mm square will probably determine the overall difficulty of a 500m climb. Pics by John Sutherland.

A long pitch, and there’s 450m of climbing to get here!

John feeling the space

Brushing steeeep rock

It turns out that I should be able to lead this final 15m section through the roofs on three small cams. Since taking a belay instead would have been on two Camalot 4s, I'm actually saving weight on the crux pitch rack by pressing on all the way to the top. Happy days.

A fine rack

1945 bomber wreckage, Cuilags

Shootin the Stromness breeze

Hoy on the horizon

Now after four weeks of thrashing it out on the circuits I’ve gone from zero stamina to nearly-got-stamina. It’s been almost exclusively on my board since the rain has been incessant in Scotland for the whole of May. Hence the lack of new routes to report. However, the focus has been good for me probably. My 60 move circuit is now extended to 100 moves and the rest between bouts are getting shorter every session.

Still much more work to be done, but with that under my belt and a good forecast at last it’s time to head north to Orkney and get on my project for a few days and try and remember how to trad climb. 

More adventures like this...

Thanks to everyone (there was a LOT) who sent me a message to say you really enjoyed the 5 Climbs, 5 Islands programmes. Episode 2 is still on BBC iPlayer for a few days. If you miss it, it’ll be on DVD soon so don’t worry.

Watching it myself reminded me how much this type of adventure is really what I like and hope I can keep doing them as long as I’m still around. A lot of folk commented about how I did like to try as hard routes as possible on this type of thing - that’s totally true. I totally need to feel that I might not be able to do it, or even more that I actually can’t do it, but learn along the way how to figure out how to make it work. 

That process of focusing in and getting really absorbed in the task in hand seems to be hardwired in me. I don’t know exactly where it comes from. I get very frustrated and wrestless when there is a barrier between me and focusing properly on the task. I find it pretty hard to accept that things upset progress and take that in my stride. I tend to respond by going even deeper into the obsessive zone. Climbing yields really well under this approach, which is pretty much the core reason why I got better at it slowly. Up to a point it works really well in other fields too, but at a big cost.

It leads to a funny situation in that as a climbing coach I spend most of my time trying to encourage people to adopt this approach, but a lot of my adult life has been spent trying to blunt it myself. The Triple 5 programmes and The Great Climb I hope gave a decent insight into how these things work out in climbing. On that day my normal focus was totally destroyed every time I put my mashed up ankle on a foothold. Half of me wanted to give up and half of me wanted to shut it out and keep climbing. So ‘machine’ mode won out and I just went a bit quiet and kept grabbing holds til we were on top. It seemed to me that Tim had pretty much the same experience on the soaking wet finishing pitch. It would have been very very easy to admit defeat then.

The experiences of this summer made me think again about the big one - my project of freeing the original aid line of the Longhope Route on Orkney. If ever there was a climb that demanded and would reward the obsessive approach it’s that one. Perfect really. After this year’s shortlived trips up there I realised I probably wasn’t good enough to do it last year, or this. But I’m still learning a lot about the tactics and training needed to make it work. Looking forward to standing underneath it again next summer with fresh energy to throw at it.

Cloud Mist Rain Drizzle Fog and bird poo

Michael and myself on the Longhope route, just before the cloud and rain ended the day’s play.

The crux pitch linked, I headed back to Hoy with Michael, Claire and Diff for a shot at a redpoint of the route. Time was limited, and weather and work appointments gave us one chance. The day before I walked in with Diff and we rigged ropes out in space above the crux pitch, coming in a various angles to get stable for filming. Before we left, the rain came out of nowhere and we sat in the shelter of a cave before walking out, with the sinking feeling in my head that the sea-salt encrusted cliff would be absorbing all the dampness and conditions would be too poor for the 8c pitch.

Nonetheless, we set off early from our doss the next morning into rain to have a look. It was still raining at the foot of the route three hours later. But we sucked it up and started going up pitches. Michael was doused in bile twice by the evil fulmars, myself only once, but the grim yellow slime ran down my neck as I wobbled onto a ledge. Things kinda went from bad to worse. A belay on an arete in the wind had my teeth chattering once again and higher, while having an discussion with a razorbill stood on my thread runner on the vile crack pitch, I noticed the clouds overhead dropping. They were whizzing over the top of the wall, and quickly obscured the top 100 metres of the wall. The damp air had turned the thick coating of lichen covering the vile crack into viscous goo, adding a tinge of green to the yellow fulmar bile already spread over my clothes. The writing was on the wall.

As we made our abseils, the sight of Diff 300 metres above spinning in a whirlwind of mist and space above us as he stripped the filming ropes was quite a sight.

Timing good conditions, partners and the fitness needed for this climb is damn hard to pull off. Back to the waiting, and training game.

Michael, still looking cheery after a long day

Claire feeling the chill after 8 hours on the edge of the cliff in a gale, filming our ‘progress’.

Diff - it was this big?

Still shivering on Hoy

Thanks for the thought

Mmmm, inviting! After a long session on the wall, I was too late to make the last let-in time for the fantastic hostel facility in Moaness. I was hoping Fay would volunteer to open the hostel and let me leave money out for her, but sadly not, so it was a shivery night in the pier building for me. Some ridiculous sessions of aerobics every couple of hours through the night were required to keep the shivers at bay.

Among other things, I took a couple of days to venture back onto Hoy by myself to spend a couple of sessions on the crux pitch of the Longhope project. I had underestimated how dialled I had it when I was having sessions last summer and the effect of one or two of the smallest holds wearing down a tiny bit and just tipping the difficulty in the upward direction.   

The pitch is definitely feeling like F8c. I feel like I have to be climbing at least ‘90%’ to redpoint 8c. What I’m not sure about is if I can walk in and climb 420 metres of pitches up to there and still feel 90%? The two other big problems with getting this route done are the temperature and the bloody birds. I hoped that by now summer might have edged up as far as Orkney, but yesterday I was still climbing in full winter mountaineering clothing and duvet jacket with completely numb hands in the relentless wind. On the crux 50 metre pitch, there is good gear most of the way apart from a long runout early in the pitch up to a break with a hole in it. Most unfortunately, a fulmar is poised right in the back of the hole ready to puke it’s grim stomach contents right into my face right as I would take a 70 foot fall with some nasty ledges within clipping distance. The next gear is a long reach off the hole (the break is too sandy and rounded to take anything else).

So there are still fitness and timing problems to solve. But at least good links have been done and I can get on with rounding off my fitness on some big mountain trad days in anticipation of my nest Hoy venture, whenever summer arrives there?

Orkney false start

With V13 fitness finally regained after the endless winter of snowy mountaineering, I was obviously keen to get back to me project on Orkney - freeing the original line of the Longhope Route. But winter, in the northern end of the UK at least, wasn’t giving in just yet. 

But we went anyway. It was kind of as bad as we expected, but worth going anyway. Donald and I spent a couple of days on the wall, one dangling about on the top and one on the bottom pitches. A lot of shivering was done, and trying to climb an F8c pitch in full winter mountaineering clothing didn’t fully work out. So we bailed without a great deal of deliberation.

Nevertheless I learned some more things about the route, namely that I need more time on it and it’s going to be damn hard. And visiting Orkney is always a pleasure. It was good to see that Donald found the lower pitches as adventurous as I think they are. I did almost have a nasty fall when a block I was holding onto parted company with the wall while a loooong way above a runner. A missed heartbeat to say the least. 

The appetite is well and truly stoked for a proper encounter when the ocean warms up to something less than arctic.