Great Climb & Triple 5 DVD’s have arrived

The DVDs of our live BBC Great Climb and also the Triple 5 (5 Climbs, 5 Islands) programmes are ready and Cameron McNeish is dropping them in to me later this morning. I’ve put them up in the shop just now.

The Great Climb DVD comes as a 3xDVD set with the full 6 hour programme of the first ascent of The Usual Suspects E9 7a, including an option to listen with or without the television commentary, extra footage from the climb such as the roof section on Pitch 4 of our route and extras about the background and making of the programme. It’s in the shop here.

The Triple 5 DVD comes as a 2xDVD set of a longer cut of the film with extra climbing, interview and background footage. The ‘5 Climbs, 5 Islands’ programmes that went out on the BBC was 2 hour cut. The DVD is a 3.5 hour cut so could go into more depth about the climbs we did during the challenge and our approaches to climbing in general. It’s in the shop here.

I noticed at Kendal that a lot of folk wanted their DVD signed. If you would like that when ordering from the shop, just ask! Write in the ‘Special instructions to merchant’ field of the checkout page.

Hope you enjoy them.

Pre-Great Climb interview

Here is a wee interview I did for Triple Echo in prep for the Great Climb, but didn’t end up used on the live broadcast since the climbing action didn’t let up! Thought I would share it. Questions by Lindsay Cannon.

As you can see it’s aimed at a non-climbing audience. Both my fears about the weather, and my confidence in Tim turned out to be right! But my fears about my own performance turned out to be the least of my worries on the day...

Full Name: Dave MacLeod

Date of Birth: 17 July 1978

Place of Birth: Glasgow

Nationality: British

Where do you live: 

Letterfinlay, in Lochaber.

Brothers/Sisters: 

Younger Sister Katy half-brothers Todd and Alan and half-sister Fiona.

Education: 

Garnethill Primary, Charing Cross, Glasgow

Westerton Primary, Bearsden, Glasgow

Boclair Academy, Bearsden, Glasgow

BSc Sports science & physiology, University of Glasgow

MSc Sport & Exercise Science, University of Strathclyde

How would you describe yourself: 

A fairly passive, quiet and thoughtful sort of guy except when in comes to work or play where an obsessive, die-hard stubborn streak shows itself. I love being in wild places, training, solving problems and trying to do things that seem improbable by finding easy ways to do them.

How would you describe what you do for a living:

The short answer is that I climb rocks and mountains and tell stories about my experiences. 

The longer answer is that I climb routes that haven’t been done yet because of a combination of difficulty, apparent risk, remoteness or logistical awkwardness. I make a living from the interest of the stories of my climbs and the knowledge I’ve gained in how to prepare for them. I write a couple of blogs that a lot of people read and on that I run a shop on the site which sells books, films and clothing related to climbing. I also write the books, make the films and design the clothing, along with my wife, Claire. I also promote several climbing equipment companies, lecture about my climbing and coach it too. There isn’t much time left over.

The objective of all this is basically to have great experiences and use them to do creative work that helps others with their experiences in one way or another.

Philosophy: 

To follow my passions as energetically as possible and use this energy and experience to learn as much as possible and then share it with others.

Partner: Married to Claire.

Do they climb and if so to what grade: Claire skydives.

When did you start climbing and why:

I started climbing about 15. I discovered hills by accident by cycling out to the ‘Queen’s View’ just after I moved to the edge of Glasgow. I loved exploring the hills and the highlands and naturally gravitated increasingly towards cliffs rather than paths as the logical next stage. When I found out about the boulders at Dumbarton Rock I was totally hooked on climbing and didn’t look back.

First route you climbed and how you felt afterwards:

I can’t remember the first climb I succeeded on, but on the first day I went to Dumbarton Rock I soloed to the last moves of a route called ‘Plunge’ about 4 times and downclimbed it, too scared to climb up the castle wall at the end (I’d gone the wrong way, it turned out later). I found the process of dealing with my fear and having another attempt a brilliant experience. There were two climbers hanging around on ropes on a route called Requiem nearby, which was the hardest climb in Scotland at the time (first ascent Dave Cuthberston in 1983). They were laughing at me because I kept reappearing from the bottom of ‘Plunge’ with a sorry look on my face. But it seemed pretty ironic to me because at least I could climb to the last move without a rope, but they could barely make a single move on their climb without pulling up on the rope. On the train home I set a goal to climb Requiem when I was 16. I was 20 when I managed it.

Why did you want to continue climbing:

There are several big advantages of rock climbing over other sports (which I generally hated as a kid). First, the climb is always there, so if you fail you have another chance to solve the problems and have another go. Second, you can make it whatever you want it to be - completely safe, insanely dangerous, local at the climbing wall, or halfway round the world, hot and sunny in the south of France or bitterly cold on an Alpine north face, solitary free soloing or social bouldering. Total freedom and no rules! Third, it’s indefinable nature tends in most cases to keep the sport at an ethically sound level and closer to the original ideals of sport. It takes place in some of the most beautiful places in the world and the exposure to risk and the ‘no going back’ committing nature of the activity is one of the best feelings you can get. It’s free, and all you really need is your hands and feet to go and climb something.

What type of rock do you prefer and why:

The mathematical precision of the movement demanded by Dumbarton Basalt, or the elegant climbs and friction moves of Ben Nevis Andesite are my favourites, among many.

Which style of climbing do you prefer and why (sport,trad, winter mixed, ice etc)

I am a Scot so I tend not to prefer any - Scottish climbing has great climbing in all the disciplines so it’s hard not to love them all equally. But I find it extremely hard to live without the daily activity of bouldering.

What is the hardest route you have ever climbed and type:

The hardest route I have climbed is my own route Echo Wall on Ben Nevis. It’s very close to my physical limit of climbing difficulty, but in a situation where the consequences of a fall could not be higher.

Have you ever been injured and if so how did it happen:

Like most athletes I have had many injuries from training, to my fingers and elbows. Apart from minor scrapes, my only spell in hospital from a climbing fall was a badly broken ankle from a free-soloing fall in my late teens. It was an important stage in my development - I learnt a lot!

Which climber do you admire most and why:

It’s natural to connect more with climbers who have climbed the routes you have seen or attempted. When I started, all the hardest climbs in Scotland were opened by Dave Cuthbertson and the process of repeating many of his hardest routes during my development really taught me how much effort and commitment was needed to climb hard, especially across different disciplines. I was desperate to climb a new route project of his in Glen Nevis that he never quite completed. But it was so hard, it took me years before I could finally do it in 2007 (Ring of Steall 8c+). I knew where Cubby’s highpoint was in 1993 which was a world class climbing performance at the time and if it hadn’t been for discussing the movement details at length with Cubby I don’t think I could have done it.

How do you feel about the challenge of The Great Climb:

It’s an enormous challenge. In fact I better not think about it too much or I’ll get intimidated. The only thing that helps is to know that it’ll be a big challenge for everyone involved. Doing the hardest climbs these days is very dependent on the conditions being just right. Athletes in sports that have scheduled competitions often manage better performances in training than competition when internal and external conditions are ideal. Climbing isn’t normally scheduled so we keep attempting the climbs until everything works out right and then maybe we succeed. We have to take pot luck on the day for what the weather is like, so it could make our chosen climb impossible if we are unlucky. It’s a six hour climb so it’s comparable to distance running as a physiological challenge in some ways. You can see in marathon (a 2 or 3 hour event) how much conditions of wind and temperature affect the performances. Fast times just aren’t possible on a hot day with a headwind. On Sron Uladail, wind chill is our most likely enemy. If our muscles are very cold it will be much more draining to climb each section and we will tire more quickly and might fall. Or if it’s very wet or humid the holds will be much harder to use. Of course if it’s completely still, the midges might make it impossible for anyone to function and we may all have to run away! On a warm day with a good breeze we will have a fighting chance. In a westerly storm we’ll not even get off the ground. 

What do you feel are the strengths of your climbing partnership for The Great Climb:

Both Tim and myself are very experienced climbers on this type of climb. We know our limits fairly well but also how to operate right on those limits without getting into too much trouble. Tim has a huge amount of energy, an extremely positive attitude and is known for rising to the occasion when circumstances are not going to plan on a climb. He is absolutely dependable to bring the best out in not only himself, but climbing partners as well. My approach is subtly different I suppose in that I tend to really home in on the potential problems and how to make a plan to get round them. I’ve been training strength a lot in preparation for this climb because the start of pitch 2 has a short very intense section of hard, powerful moves. I’ve also spent a lot of time looking at the cliff and figured out exactly where to climb. So between us I think we have a lot to throw at the climb and there is a lot we can help each other with our separate leads on the climb.

Weaknesses of the above if any:

My biggest worry (apart from the weather on the day) is that I wont be able to reach one hold on the hardest move of the whole route. It’s the second move on the second pitch. It’s a huge reach with the left hand from a good hold to a finger edge. If I time the movement perfectly I can do the move, but I need to use 100% of my strength to reach the last three inches and it’s hard to be accurate to grab the hold directly - a bit like tennis serves; it’s hard to serve at 100% maximum speed without sacrificing accuracy. Even if I can complete the move, if I run out of strength higher up the pitch I think there’s no way I could have enough strength in reserve to have a second attempt. The other problem is that if I fall off that move, I might land directly on Tim who will be hanging on the belay right underneath. 

Tim’s pitches are also very hard and although I’m confident he can climb them, they are very tiring endurance bouts of climbing and if he slips near the end of a pitch it will be really tough to have another try. This is one of the big difficulties with a climb as long and steep as Sron Uladail - it is very unforgiving of mistakes on the ascent. If either of us takes any falls it will take every bit of fitness we have to succeed after that.

Climbing career highlights – top two:

See above Echo Wall and also watch the film!!

No.2 - The first winter ascent of Anubis on Ben Nevis. Anubis is a summer rock climb first climbed by myself in 2005 and was the hardest rock climb on the mountain at E8 until I did Echo Wall more recently. I made it a big goal to try to climb it under winter conditions of snow and ice as well. I managed to do it last winter on my fourth attempt. As a winter ascent of a summer rock climb it was a much higher standard than had been done before. The crux pitch took 5 and a half hours to lead and was the hardest test of endurance and composure I’ve had in climbing.

What now?

After I did Rhapsody at Dumbarton in 2006, I pretty quickly packed up and moved to the Highlands of Scotland. There were lots of reasons for doing this, climbing being just one. The ‘climbing reason’ was largely to find the most adventurous, arduous new routes I could lay my hands on, and try and do them. To Hell and Back, Echo Wall and more recently The Usual Suspects. All climbs where the actual climbing is only a small part of the deal. I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time walking into Scottish coires in the rain with three ropes and two racks in my bag. I buy cleaning brushes in packs of 24. I’ve given myself three overuse injuries from cleaning new routes. On The Usual Suspects I think I spent 10 days on the rope on Sron Ulladale with my rockshoes just dangling from my harness before I finished finding, rigging and cleaning it and could actually start to move on it.

I’ve been doing first ascents for 12 years now and still I love it. Not in a count ‘em up ticking kind of way. It’s the creative expression of every stage of the process that I’ve enjoyed so far. Over the past few years I’ve really revelled in the inaccessibility, the awkwardness and the pure endurance factor of time and effort needed to open new routes on trad gear in the remotest possible places.

But climbing never has been about one channel for me. When judging the value of experiences, people often refer to how ‘memorable’ they were. This makes sense. I was reading Steve McClure’s column in Climb today and he was talking about how he found his long redpoint battles most memorable for him. I feel exactly the same. For me also, there is no substitute for the detail, the intricacy of the moves and the tactics and the totally enveloping focus of the redpoint effort, with all extraneous thought and movement distilled out by a thousand rehearsals in body and mind. Every bit of time, effort, sweat and will that goes into it, all add to it’s value.

I don’t think my memory of the smell and the summer sun on Echo Wall sessions will ever diminish. Or glissading down Observatory gully at 11pm in the sunset feeling totally at home. Or the roaring wind throwing me about on Sron Uladail, ropes rubbing on sharp edges, soaked to the skin as I looked for lines to climb. Mountains and mountain trad climbing inevitably make a deep stamp in your memory by their power. So is that an argument to forget everything else and go trad climbing all the time? No!

Memories are important, but they are not everything. We have to live in the moment too. Everyday needs and pleasures are also important. You might not remember your regular walk to your girlfriend’s or school or work on a particular day several years ago. But the everyday act of walking is something really important to lots of us. To say you’d soon miss it if it was taken away from you is a bit of an understatement. 

This everyday routine of climbing movement is the other side of climbing for me, and I know it is for lots of people, even if they don’t necessarily think of it that way. Whether it’s the exercise, or the emptying of the mind for a while, or the movement or whatever - it doesn’t matter. If you look at it directly it seems mundane. But the bigger picture shows that it becomes important to you. Especially if, like me, you’ve done it for 17 years.

I often feel like this in September. A long ‘summer’ of labour intensive mountain new routing leaves me counting the hours of being wet, walking with large sacks, shivering and hauling about on ropes and realising this comes at the expense of actual metres of hard moves climbed. This season, like all the previous, I have some fine adventures to show for it. If the last warm days, dry mountain crags and partners collide, I may yet have more. Now though, the pendulum needs to swing the other way and I need to climb some hard moves again. 

Short term plan: time to boulder

The Great Climb success

We pulled off The Great Climb.

All 55 of us were just a little ecstatic last night and we partied in Glen Scaladale until we dropped. Every one of the usual suspects on the team of producers, outside broadcast production team, climbers, riggers, runners, presenters, medics, environmental consultants and many more were chosen for this project because they absolutely were THE person to rely on to come up with the goods when everything had to happen.

If you watched the program, you saw some of the problems we dealt with as climbers to get to the top - a painful ankle and wet rock. But you won’t have seen all the equally hard work, good judgement calls and quick thinking that made it all happen behind the camera. I’ve got to admit I felt a bit emotional when we got to the top. It was just so great that everyones hard graft, gambles and input paid off in style.

We’re over the moon that so many of you on here, Twitter (#thegreatclimb) and my Facebook said you enjoyed it. First up, some questions answered:

I think there was a blip for a while, but it’s available for download on iplayer until Sept 4th, right here. It’ll also be on DVD fairly shortly. And when it does, you’ll find it on my shop as soon as it’s out. The triple 5 trip (myself and Tim, 5 new routes, 5 islands, in 5 days) which would would have seen in case of disaster on the live day, will be coming to the BBC TV screens shortly and also DVD. I’ll keep you posted on this.

Tim climbed amazingly yesterday. He’s an amazing athlete in every way. Not only did he cruise pitch 1 and kept it together when things got ‘a bit spicy’ on pitch 3, but his lead of the soaking wet, slimy overhanging wall at the end was an exemplary display of climbing skill and mental composure.

For me it was a tough day. By the sounds of it, it showed on camera too. I took as much analgesic as I could, but my right foot hurt on nearly every move. Adrenaline provided 100% pain relief that lasted through the crucial pitch 2. But after that I was using most or all of my ‘reserve’ to get me through it. It seemed pretty unlikely we’d get to the top without falling off, succumbing to ankle pain, swearing on live TV or generally failing for some other reason. But with 30 seconds to go after 5.5 hours live, I finished seconding the final pitch and the whoops rang back and forth across Glen Uladail.

Getting the chance to be involved in a production like this, no matter what role you play in it, is an unmissable experience. You learn so much, from so many different people about how to up your game. So when it comes around to doing your own bit, you somehow magically end up making a 110% effort yourself. 

What do you do when you can’t climb?

Find another way.

Well, I’m partially on my way to full able bodied status again after two days resting up, so I can walk with some pain and stand on footholds no problem so long as the twist doesn’t stretch my stitches too much. And that’s on a half dose of analgesic. Promising.

Today I thought it was a good time to start letting my ankle know it’s going to have a long day on Saturday, as well as get some training in to tick over instead of rapid fitness loss sitting on my bum.

I did this traverse about 7 times until a hold broke and I got really quite soaking in the resultant bog-splat. I went back for another 5 reps later this evening, after a cup of tea.

Even though my ankle was throbbing after this, it’s great progress. Yesterday morning when I got out of bed it was too painful to weight it even for a second.

PS: I wrote the above last night, better again this morning. Check out what the Sun have to say about our live climb!

Minor surgery

On Monday, while descending the lines after a session on the Sron, a breeze block sized flake at the belay 10 feet above me was levered off by an unusual direction of pull. It dropped straight onto my bare ankle, splitting it open in a 3cm gash down to the bone. 

After making the most of the rare opportunity to inspect my own skeleton, I abseiled down and started to hurt. 5 stitches later, I’m in less than perfect shape for climbing, or indeed anything right now.

Iain Peter wraps me up for the long walk out to the medical centre.

Less than ideal. Nevertheless, it’s just a flesh wound as they say. A few stitches in one’s ankle shouldn’t bother one’s ability to climb a five pitch E8 on live telly, should it? So I’m doing nothing new but storing up energy (and ibuprofens) for the big day on Saturday.

Harris sunshine

Improving conditions here on Harris. Waterfalls on the cliff are drying out a bit, and a bit of sunshine always lifts the spirits. However, there are no shortage of problems to deal with, for every part of the team. 

Old reel of film we found at the foot of the cliff. Presumably belonging to Alun Hughes when he filmed his Strone Ulladale film in 1989 which is now on the 80’s DVD.

Sheep with it’s heid stuck in a gate, near Rhenigidale. I helped it out.

Great climb trailer

Trailer for The Great Climb us up on the BBC site here. Mostly shots of me falling off on the Triple 5 film (I fell off a lot on that trip). Thing have been kicking off here at Sron Ulladale, more on that later. Also, here is an interview by Peter Ross in last weekend's Scotland on Sunday related to the Great Climb.

The Great Climb team get going

Brian Hall and the team thrash out the rigging logistics

I’m just sitting in the Scaladale Centre on Harris listening to Brian Hall briefing the rigging team on the full horror of their task for the week ahead; rigging a km of rope on grossly overhanging ground on the Sron. They are going to have a mega adventure this week! Today though, is a tea drinking day. Nothing happens on Harris on a Sunday!

The forecast, as ever, is diabolical. Yesterday, I was on the line myself. The upper two pitches had waterfalls coming down them and Brian and Rory were almost blown off their feet in the unseasonal storm force wind on the top of the wall. A helicopter is due to take all the outside broadcast equipment into the broadcast base camp. But the chances of the chopper being able to fly in the next two days is about big fat 0%. So it’ll all need to be carried instead. Ouch!

The plumb line of the rope with haul bag tied to the end illustrate the angle of the route

Looking out from the foot of our proposed new route. The bag is hanging at least 80 feet out from the base!

The team have no option but to rig tomorrow even though they’ll have to do it in a waterfall. All the ropes have to be in place by Wednesday for the 5 climbing cameramen to get on the ropes and start sussing their shots for Saturday.

No doubt there will be some sore legs and stressed heads by tomorrow night. 

See you on the box, next week

In a couple of hours, I’m leaving for Sron Uladail once more to begin the final prep leading up to our live climb. I haven’t been to bed yet, and that is looking a more distant possibility by the minute - too much work to try and finish before I go! I can’t do it all. So it’ll be a sleepy shift on the cliff tomorrow. I do hope the weather gods will provide us with a friendly day and myself and Tim can provide you with an entertaining adventure to watch on Saturday 28th.

I have an update on the broadcast times, they are:

Saturday 28th August:

BBC2 Scotland and Sky channel 990 1.30pm-7pm

BBC HD channel 5pm-7pm

Streamed live on the BBC website

Available for viewing on BBC iplayer

Enjoy!

I wouldn’t say my preparation has gone perfectly, the wettest July in Scotland for a decade hasn’t helped get the hours in on rock in recent weeks. But I did have an amazing session on my climbing board last night, managing nearly all my hardest links and completing a long term project with ease. It’s nothing new that a mixed bag of training ends up producing great results. The variety might not be in the schedule, but is often better than a synthetic training plan. I have been bitten by a staggering amount of midges in recent weeks, which could be good training also, perhaps?

Trying to keep up work on my injuries book and other work has been a right balancing act as well. To be honest, I think I need a week of hardcore battling with The Big Stone on Harris to stop me from going quite mad!

See y’all on the 28th to watch the fight with the roofs of Sron.

A turnaround of fortunes on Harris

My world for the last 5 days - the overhanging landscape of spiky rock on Sron Uladail

Just back from another intense week of preparations for The Great Climb on the 28th on Harris. After the Skye Pipe Band gave us an entertaining ride back across the minch on the Calmac, I drove back to Lochaber like a zombie and crawled into bed.

I have a route to attempt! The most overhanging section of the entire cliff proved the exception to the rule that I’d encountered so far. Every other line I’d looked at worked apart from short sections that were blank, loose or wet. From a previous abseil from the top of the cliff, looking in from a distance I thought a 12 foot section on theses overhangs also looked devoid of holds. But it was so steep I needed to come back with more gear to back-aid across the roofs to get a closer look.

When I did just that on Monday I couldn’t believe my eyes! A line of fingertip flakes and slopers leading out across the big roof to gain the next flake system. The line reminds me of the famous Spanish route Kalea Borroka in Siurana, but even steeper! It’s going to be a mind-boggling adventure climbing this thing. I really can’t wait for the 28th. Pitch 1 looks like the best pitch of E7 I’ve seen anywhere. After a hanging belay, the very first move of pitch 2 is the hardest of the entire route. I could only do the move one out of four tries. But it’s just a very long reach at 50 degrees overhanging. That’s pretty much the same angle as my board so I’ll make a model of the crux section to train on. After that it’s more hard bloc across the roof to get the next flake system and a spectacular climb up these in the most exposed position imaginable. I’m not sure yet but this pitch seems like it will be hard E8 or maybe into E9. After that there are three more E6 and E7 pitches through more spectacular terrain. So it was a turnaround of fortunes compared to the last trip. No doubt it wont be the last. But such is adventure climbing!

Brian Hall begins the highly skilled job of working out logistics to get a sizeable team of climbing cameramen onto the most overhanging cliff in the British Isles.

Brian follows me down my lines. This is one of the least steep parts of the route, but you can see from the other rope hanging free why it’s difficult to clean and remove loose rock from 600 feet of cliff this steep. In other climbing meccas around the world, bolts would be considered the only way to do this without a major epic. Being British, we opt for the major epic.

My rope snaking through the overhangs gives you an idea of the terrain I hope we can climb on the day. 

Old fixed gear I removed from the cliff last week which marks the battles, successes and failures of climbers past. The owners of this gear would read like a who’s who of adventure trad climbers of the past few decades!

...So now I have a week or so to squeeze in more training before the whole team Rendezvous on Harris for the week leading up to the live broadcast. I think it will be a good show.

Week of progress

The past week has been a frantic effort to catch up on everything before I head back to Harris for round two with the Sron and the Atlantic low pressures. I have trained, mostly after midnight. I have amassed large quantities of research material for my injuries book to add to the already large pile. At least the ‘read’ pile is larger than the ‘unread’! Among other things I have visited family, built a bathroom, oh yeah, and trained some more.

Right now I’m about 95% of my best bouldering strength, which is good news since I haven't been bouldering for months and generally been wobbling about on big mountain crags or dangling about on Sron Uladail in the rain. I’m feeling close to a wee ‘performance peak’ right now. I have that feeling of of everything in my body working as it should, responding to the training and I’m moving with good confidence and momentum.

All that’s needed is an opportunity to unleash this on a Scottish rock project. Always the rate-limiting step. The forecast for next week’s trip to the Sron is dire once again. I’m preying for at least one day of rest from the north-westerlies so I can get the big rope rigged and get a look at the ever-dry lower half of the wall.

Sron Uladail 1, Dave nil

I’ve just done my first climbing session in 8 days after a week long trip to Sron Ulladale. The session was back home on my board! There’s nothing worse than moany blogs and I do try not to post too often about the many many failures I have trying to make Scottish new routes come into existence. But as Claire and I agreed the other day (day 4 of sitting in the car watching the horizontal rain), people often don’t know what goes into opening new hard trad routes in the mountains.

I’ve been to the outer Hebrides nearly every year for a decade, on most of those trips, climbing in the mountains of Harris, namely Sron Uladail, has been ‘plan A’. On all but one trip, plan A has lasted less than 10 minutes off the Harris ferry and we left the Harris mountains to their lashing by wind and rain and headed for the relative shelter of the Lewis  sea cliffs. Although serendipitous, I’ve found many of my favourite places to climb there and the sea cliffs never felt like a plan B once I was there.

This time it was the Sron or nothing - I had a job to do. The brief: find a good, preferably hard and unclimbed route on Sron Uladail that myself and Tim Emmett can climb in under 6 hours on live television and get it cleaned. Easier said than done.

Having studied my crag shots, I did the big load carry from Ahmunsuidhe and abseiled over the big drop armed with a 600 foot rope, brush and a lot of hardware, just before the rain started. My first choice line was seeping copious drools of water from the back of the roof and was out of the question from the word go. Hmmm, what now? I hauled up the line, fed it all back into the bag, moved 30m left and repeat. Option 2 had no protection and being 35 degrees overhanging for a couple of pitches would be nearly impossible to clean and inspect. By day 3 I was at option 5 and still at square 1. 

The live TV issue kind of dictates having at least a fighting chance of getting to the top on the chosen route. For me, anything harder than about E9/10 always involves a remote chance of success for any given attempt. Sure, the ultimate chances of success across many days and weeks of attempts rise to something sporting, but on this occasion we have 1 day, 6 hours to make it happen. It wouldn’t be such a big deal if the crag wasn’t so overhanging or so ravaged by the elements. I could absorb more of the potential problems through preparation. 

I was determined not to leave Harris no further forward, so after two days of torrential rain and wind I jogged in as fast as I could in a brief lull in the storm to check out another potential line, some grossly overhanging blank grooves left of the Scoop. As soon as I’d dropped the ropes and headed off down over the first overhangs I found to my dismay that the brief lull was just as the storm readjusted to a westerly, blowing straight across the crag. Pretty soon I was having a right gripper. The tail ends of 3 or 400 feet of my two static ropes that had been hanging below me were now blowing in great arcs horizontally in space despite being sodden from the rain and very heavy.  As the wind rose and rose I realised it could get dangerous to be on the wall quite rapidly switched to ‘escape’ mode. Plan A was to continue back-aiding down through the roofs until I could be sure the ropes would reach the slopes far below and then bail to the cliff base. But it became obvious that even with my weight on them in a free abseil the ropes and me would be blown out away from the slope and If I attempted to go down the rope I’d probably suffer a very spinny-dizzy death being tossed around on the rope ends. So I went back up.

I was terrified the wind would get so strong that things would start to get out of hand - being thrown around on ropes running across crystal sharp rock edges. Every time I released a piece of gear I was thrown sideways into space by the wind, with the sickening sound of ropes scraping along overlaps above. I learned to jumar up rope a lot faster! As the pro-golfers over at St-Andrews bailed back to the clubhouse for a beer due to the high winds, I flopped over onto ledges in a waterfall and hauled up the sodden ropes, cursing the Scottish weather as I staggered off along the ridge to Ullaval into the gale.

The rest of the week alternated between long hours in the car watching the rain, or long hours of the above dangling in it. The upshot was that I have still to settle on an ideal line to attempt. Here’s to the next trip going a little better!

In the meantime, I’ll be trying to gain back the fitness lost on my ‘climbing’ trip...

The lovely outlook from the Sron on the good day - It’s amazing how transformed the Hebrides are in nice weather. More so than other parts of Scotland I think.

An ancient wire battered in by aid climbers 40 odd years ago. I removed this relic (it practically turned to dust in my hands). There wasn’t really a placement for in the seam - I think that fear, a strong arm and a good hammer had a lot to do with it!

4 days of the same view

I thought I was being paranoid about the sharp overlaps of sheared quartz and gneiss until the slightest glance of my hand along one gave me a 4cm gash.