Sailing to St Kilda

  

Setting up for the crux of Old Boy Racer E8 5b, 7a, 6b on Ruabhal, St Kilda. Photo: Chris Prescott/Dark Sky Media

Several years ago I was lucky enough to climb on the spectacular islands of St Kilda, which sit 50 miles out in the Atlantic to the west of the Outer Hebrides. We had just one day and did a fantastic three pitch E6 on perfect black gabbro, similar to the Cuillin of Skye. Ever since, I have wanted to return and do something a bit harder. So when the veteran sailor and explorer Bob Shepton asked if I’d like to sail there with him, I obviously had to grab the opportunity, despite having no sailing experience and not really being a ‘water person’.

It was probably a good thing that I had a very busy few weeks of film shooting before we were due to leave Oban on June 10th. I had no time to consider how the journey across would be. So I had no expectations at all, except to have an adventure. Sailors Bob and Stuart, climbers myself and Natalie Berry and filmmaker Chris Prescott hopped aboard and off we went down the Sound of Mull. Although we had chosen June for the probability of fine weather, the standard Scottish summer fronts were ruling the skies and so we had three short days of dodging unfavourable waves, wind and rain in the small isles and Outer Hebrides. Eagerness to finally get there helped us decide to set sail west from Harris into a forecast of possible Force 7. There was an occasional Force 8 forecast a little further north, and of course once committed to the big waves west of Harris, we discovered that was a slight underestimation.

Bob Shepton's boat, the Dodo's Delight on a very calm departure from the St Kilda islands.

Some new ropes to learn. Photo: Chris Prescott/Dark Sky Media

For my part, I was happy with being in the storm. Knowing nothing about sailing in storms or the capabilities of the boat, I could only go by Bob, whom I could still hear laughing and joking below deck as the boat was being thrown all over the place by waves which rather dwarfed our boat. I also garnered a slight note of caution from the odd bit of chat, that it could get really bad. Therefore, I expected it to be horrendous - like hanging onto the boat and being half drowned by waves. This probably helped as by the time I clocked the jaggy islands of St Kilda through the driving rain, I’d still been waiting for it to get really bad. Nonetheless, I was certainly ready to get off the cramped space of the boat and be able to spread out a bit and exercise limbs.

It wasn’t until the middle of the next day that it was calm enough to get us ashore and we set up camp as the clouds finally parted. Desperate to get going, we hot-footed it over Hirta to the cliffs of Ruabhal and found the rock to be dry, despite some huge waves battering the bottom 50 feet of the walls. Chris and Nat were still feeling a bit wobbly and spaced from the journey, so I rigged a line and went over the edge to check out the two lines I had in mind to climb.

 Bob noting down the shipping forecast. A regular ritual on the boat. Photo: Chris Prescott/Dark Sky Media

The forecast was none too good. 

I had a fantastic evening dangling about on the wall, sussing out new lines and watching the impressive show of breaking waves blasting huge plumes of water skyward. The combination of natural sights and sounds really makes sea-cliff climbing on St Kilda a sensory feast. The first line I looked at seemed to have roughly 7c climbing with decent gear although you do move a bit away from it on the crux traverse. The next morning we waited out another wet start and tried to hold back as long as possible before walking over to the cliff. In late afternoon we were in place on a hanging belay just above the waves, with the cliff above us now nicely dried out in the sun and strong northwesterly. The first pitch was a beautiful easy pitch of E2 5b on great rough holds and sinker gear. I was actually happy Chris asked me to climb it twice for different angles and stills. I could get warmed up a bit after getting chilled on the belay.

The climbing on the crux was just so good and exposed that it seemed crazy to waste time worrying about whether I could do it or not. I just launched through it and before I knew it was stretching for a nice finger lock on the slab above the lip of the roofs. The remaining pitch was great fun, especially when a curious guillemot flew up to my face and attempted to perch on my head. I’m not sure who got more of a fright. On top it was 9.30pm and would have been nice to just go back to the tent and eat some dinner, but we had one more day of climbing and the forecast was good. I was eager to climb something harder, and I knew this meant going straight back down to spent crucial hours scoping out another line.

Starting the difficulties on Making a Splash E7 5b, 6c, 5c. Photo: Chris Prescott/Dark Sky Media 

Just past the crux on Making a Splash. The Gabbro is perfect stuff. Made to be climbed. Photo: Chris Prescott/Dark Sky Media

Once over the edge again I was happy, and glad I’d decided to do it as it took me until after midnight to suss out the line of the second route I wanted to do. The plan was to breach a long roof in the middle of the cliff. I looked at it in two places, both of which were possible but far too hard for a single day of climbing. As I abseiled through a potential line, at first I wondered if it might only be another E7, but it quickly turned out to be far harder. A sequence of minuscule crimps and sidepulls round the roof worked out at Font 7c-ish. Actually pretty hard to pull off first try on a route in this situation, well for me at least.

However, the next day conditions were perfect. I knew I had an opportunity to take, so I had to calm myself down a bit and take my time to wait until the sun was going off the cliff in the afternoon. After arranging the gear I reversed back to the belay to ditch some of the rack ballast and generally sort myself out. Although I was a little worried about slamming into the wall below the roof should I fall, the conditions were just too good not to go for it with total commitment. As I set up for the crux slap, the holds felt unbelievably grippy and I knew I was going to do it. After another airy hanging belay the final E5 6b pitch was a total joy to lead. We shouldered our packs and headed off to village bay to sleep and look forward to the journey home.

Natalie seconding pitch 1 of Old Boy Racer, on perfect sea washed gabbro (like sea-washed up to 100 feet on a south west facing cliff such as this. Those winter atlantic storms must be some sight!).

The exit corners of Old Boy Racer E8 5b, 7a, 6b. Not too sure I'll find sea cliffs climbs much better than this. Photo: Chris Prescott/Dark Sky Media

My strongest memory from the trip was walking back to Village bay after working on the E8 by myself. It was after midnight, but only half dark since it was just around summer solstice. Once over the crest of the hill and out of the wind, the silence of the late night was intense and very relaxing. As I walked I could pick out the calls of the handful of different birds still out and about, the seals on the shores of Dun. But mostly, there was just pure quiet. It was lovely.

Natalie on the 'Mistress Stone' at the top of Ruabhal. Photo: Chris Prescott/Dark Sky Media 

Busy spring

FA of The Mighty Chondria E7 6c, 5c on Creag Mo, Isle of Harris. Pic by Chris Prescott/Dark Sky Media

It’s a good sign when you are too busy being outside climbing all the time to write a blog. Finally it is raining today after quite a few weeks or largely dry and fine weather in the highlands. I’ve been keen as mustard to get out after the general absence of climbing last season. After climbing my project at Arisaig in April, I spent a couple of weeks trying another 8B+ boulder and was ridiculously close for 5 sessions in a row. But for one reason or another, it didn’t work out and I’ve missed my window. It was a long shot anyway. I was losing fitness from being out on rock with lots of rest days and zero training, so you can only maintain a peak for so long in this pattern.

I've got to say, I will really miss the bouldering season. I really really enjoyed it and didn't want it to end. Maybe that's because I focused on it a bit more instead of trying to go mixed climbing in the rubbish winter for snow and ice? Either way, I'm already thinking of next season.

I’ve also been on the trad. First up I went to Harris with Masa, Chris and Nat. We were a bit early and it was baltic. I tried to climb anyway and on one day where it was slightly less windy and cold, I did a brilliant two pitch E7 on Creag Mo called The Mighty Chondria. The first pitch takes the same 35 foot horizontal roof I climbed further right on The Realm (E8) some years ago, this time via a big crack with lots of kneebarring and undercutting madness. That pitch is a fine 7c+ wrestle. Pitch two felt like a grade VIII winter route, and not just because it was almost cold enough to me mixed climbing. It was a highly traditional pitch, with some drips, some chimneying, some great rock, some turf and some darkness at the end. Masa followed me in the dark and we abbed off into the blackness below. 

That was pretty much it for the week, I cleaned another awesome four star E7, but on the last morning it was a waterfall pouring over the crag as the next front arrived and we just retrieved the gear and headed for the Calmac. 

Finishing the FA of Lucky Break E8 6c, Binnien Shuas. So happy with this route.

Since then I got back onto Binnien Shuas and led the E8 which I fell off and broke my leg last September. That was very satisfying and I shall write about that in a separate post as there is a bit to the story. I even got onto the Ben and repeated Trajan’s Column E6 6b with Calum. This felt surprisingly not too bad. Maybe I was just hyped up by the description that made it sound scary? I must admit that because I often do new routes, I sometimes get psyched out by guidebook descriptions. I’ve also been exploring some other new venues with massive potential. More of that later.

FA of The Circus 8a+ at Loch Maree Crag. Yes it is that big! The route is an extension to Hafgufa and was bolted by Ian Taylor who kindly let me climb it. It's an awesome climb, nearly 50 metres long and with great holds and climbing.

Last week I was up at the new sport sector on Loch Maree Crag. I’d seen a couple of pics of the place and it looked really big, steep and waterproof. And of course in a lovely setting as you would expect from a highland crag. It was even better than I expected. I repeated the great existing 8as and Ian Taylor kindly let me finish the huge extension to Hafgufa that he’d bolted which gave a monster 50m 8a+ called The Circus. This was an intensely enjoyable climb with brilliant exposure up the top arete, where the climbing is easier and you can just enjoy yourself. An absolute must-do for anyone climbing at the grade. I’ll be back here with my drill, soon.

Fingers crossed for some more mountain crags type weather coming up.

Cold hands on Trajan's Column E6 6b, Ben Nevis. This is a must do E6, people.

Move it or Park it E5 6c in Glen Nevis. Now without it's pegs but still a well protected route with a tricky move.

Calum Muskett eyeing up a huge arete. Many, many new routes to do here.

First great trad route of the season

First ascent of Ice Burn E8 6c, on the Ice Wall, Kintra, Isle of Mull. Photo Chris Prescott

I was all geared up for some winter projects when the Scottish weather, as always, changed the plan. I’m certainly not complaining. The weather turned amazing for all things rock climbing. Bouldering, sport, trad - all in top condition, no rain, no midge. I tried to keep calm and not go headless chicken.

Within an evening I'd settled on a plan of heading to Mull to look at a granite crack project Michael Tweedley had told me about for years. The whole coastline at Kintra has many unexplored trad and bouldering possibilities. I jumped in the car with Claire, Freida and Michael and was later joined by Chris Prescott, Natalie Berry and some more family for a right old gathering on the coast.

I started trying the crack which was amazing. I’m not really a crack person, so it felt like 8a+ to me and would definitely be a good sustained fight. None of the individual moves were that hard but I could just tell the last few metres would be exciting after very sustained climbing and placing all those cams.

Although I had several days in hand, I was anxious as always to get my chance to try it. The perfect week of weather had unfortunately proved not quite perfect - under the thin layer of inversion cloud, some drizzle was forecast. And one stubbornly seeping hold in the crack looked like it could scupper the whole thing unless it got sun and wind on it.

On the first day Chris and Nat joined us, the hold was too wet and we explored the bouldering instead. Both Natalie and I flashed Greg Chapman’s Roughcut Reality 7C+, feeling it was a bit easier than the given grade. Next door I started looking at the project sit start Greg had mentioned on a big prow. It looked a perfect line, but surely at least 8a+. But once the beta was unlocked I got it in about 15 minutes or so. High Heidyin, 7C. A bit too good a line to be considered a salvage of the day!

First ascent of High Heidyin 7C, Kintra, Isle of Mull. Photo Chris Prescott

The next day I scrutinised the wind forecast. A burst of strong northerlies was due to reach it’s peak at 6pm. So I waited until 4 and walked out. A bit of frantic hold drying and I realised it was a great opportunity to do the project.

So I tied right in and got started. It was freezing and the granite was definitely grippy. I told myself two things before starting - the cams will inevitably take that couple of seconds longer than you’d like to place and clip them, and that no matter how well it goes, I’ll need to be ready for a fight at the last five metres. I think it was good advice.

I did indeed arrive at the last few metres a bit more pumped than I would like from the extra effort of arranging the cams. At the last cam, my right arm was burning. But I actually felt like I had enough strength to deal with it and was able to step up a gear and bear down on the final crimps. With a shout I leapt for the top of the crag and there was no way I was letting go.

First trad route of the year, and a belter it was too. Ice Burn, E8 6c. Tomorrow I have one more day to look at another hard sounding trad project before it’s back to bouldering mode. I have three Scottish bouldering projects I want to try in the next two weeks. One 8A+ and two 8Bs, and then it will be time for me to drive to CH.

First ascent of Grasas Saturadas E6 6b on The Barriga de Cerveza, Isle of Mull last night. Photo: Chris Prescott I almost fell off because my fingers were freezing. Thanks to Michael for pointing me at this great route.

Spring arrives early in Scotland

With the good forecast we made a snap decision that winter was over and just arrived on Mull to try a mega crack project that Michael told me about. Yesterday I had a full day on it and managed to link the moves once. But couldn’t repeat it. Feels like the top end of 8a+ without placing the cams. Tomorrow I’ll get on the lead if it’s dry and start taking some airtime no doubt!

Lovely granite walls, sunshine and cool temperatures.

Claire checking out Scoor beach (video still from my drone of course)

Warming up the climbing a bit more

Transition Film Preview - Toast E7 6c 1st Ascent from Hot Aches Productions on Vimeo.

Last week I visited Suidhe Biorach on Skye for the first time, on a cold and windy day with Natalie. There are still plenty of great cliffs around the highlands that I’ve never visited, and I always have the hope of discovering good hard new routes to climb on them.

Climbing the excellent Mother's Pride, E4, Suidhe Biorach. Photos: Chris Prescott/Hot Aches Productions

That day we climbed Mother’s Pride, the big classic E4. Mega steep, mega jugs. At mid height I couldn’t help noticing the massive horizontal roof to it’s right. At the right end of this, Hovis (E6) crosses the roof at a narrower section with good flakes. But I could also see the odd ripple in the expanse of roof in between. 

At the end of the day I abbed down to have a look. At first it looked like there weren’t enough holds, but then I found one section of roof with just enough holds. I had to come straight back for this amazing line!

A couple of days later we were back. I abbed down again, giving the pitch a clean and checking out the gear and holds. It looked like it would go, but one move to spin round and toe hook the lip while holding a slopey press in the roof looked tough and was hard to try off the rope since the roof was totally horizontal.

It was gently raining although none of it was really bothering the route. So after a bit of hanging around we just abbed down and got on with it. You can see how we got on in the video above. The line was one of the best I’ve done in a long time. A great boulder problem in the roof, followed by a chilled out dangle about on the lip on big jugs and then a fun pumpy headwall with bomber gear. It’s obviously going to take me a little while to build up trad stamina after so long doing pure strength work while I was off my feet. This pitch was basically perfect for me right now.

After we had finished it was mid evening and had been raining most of the day and getting steadily wetter. I asked the team what we should do now. There was a suggestion of going for some food. I was keen as mustard to be out climbing and suggested we go down for another E6. After a brief pause I said “Only joking”. Diff said “Oh good” and we headed off. I wasn’t really joking, I wanted to CLIMB!

This week I’ve been staying in Blair Atholl with my family and trying to get out and run as many laps on Silk Purse down at Dunkeld as I can. That is definitely having some effect on the endurance. Hopefully enough to take another wee step up next week.

The fantastic pumpy headwall on Toast, E7, Suidhe Biorach.

Climbing begins

Enjoying the chilled out finish of Austerity Lite (E6 6b) on the first ascent, Financial Sector, Neist Point, Isle of Skye. Photo: Chris Prescott/Hot Aches Productions

First post surgery route. Just a 6b at Brin Rock. It was raining, it was midgy, but it still felt great.

After a spell of climbing on my recovering foot on big footholds (and trainers) on my board, I graduated to putting my rock shoes on again. At first I just stuck to the board but I’ve now been on the rock as well.

Naturally it feels great to be climbing again. I have been noticing the extra strength from all the foot-off training too. There are some challenges still ahead though. My foot is weak and still a little sore on the odd move. Smearing on slabs is still requiring a bit of care, and I’m quite timid on jumps.

My outdoor sessions have only been the last week and so far I’ve been just doing mileage on easier bouldering up to 7B. Yesterday I went to Neist Point on Skye with Natalie. Nat made a fine lead of Piggy Bank (E3 5c), starting off in drizzle, finishing in full on rain. Just as we were packing up to leave, the clouds suddenly cleared and so I gave the arete left of Piggy bank a quick clean and led a new E6 6b, Austerity Lite. I wondered if it would feel kind of weird being on a trad sharp end, pulling on tiny crimps. But it was totally fine.

It is still difficult to hold back and be very gentle in my climbing, especially as I've been training myself to be explosive with the upper body with foot-off climbing for three months. During the next week I'm hoping I'll feel good enough to try something a little harder.

Alicia on the Ruthven Boulder

Nat starting off on a damp Piggy Bank E3 5c, Neist Point.

Going for the finishing jug on Potential 7, 7B, Torridon Boulders.

The message and the story

I mentioned before I’d been doing some filming in front of camera. I was on the sea cliffs of Lewis and some footage of me throwing myself off Screaming Geo is now in a Land Rover ad which reached the TV screens of the UK last night. You can see it above.

I was aware I needed a bit of falling practice after the last proper trad fall I had ended in surgery. There is a short film about one of the other guys in the ad called Mike Goody (the blade runner) below, which is a really nice and honest film. Worth watching. It’s amazing how feeling a bit powerless can really creep in and affect you after an accident or injury. I must admit I’ve let that happen quite a lot at times over the past year and been in need of a bit of support (understatement) from friends to help me get through.

It’s not as black and white as just finding the will to be positive, as some sources of advice would suggest. You have to have something to be positive about. I.e. there has to be a plan, and knowing what that should be can be next to impossible when you are very injured. I reckon most folk can deal with adversity pretty well, and many can even take it in their stride. It’s the uncertainty that really hauls you over the coals. You aren’t sure if you are still going to be able to be the person you are and want to be any more.

Even the old Churchill saying about 'when you're going through hell, keep going' is a bit simplistic. Sometimes you just don't know where to go to leave your present predicament. I've definitely learned over the past year or two that good help and advice are critical. Without it you are vulnerable. Good friends and very very good doctors who share, or at the very least, truly understand your goals, are precious.

In the ad, everyone was saying 'I can'. It's true that 'I can' is the message it boils down to. But the wider story is 'with your help, I can'.

Hebrides with Natalie

Natalie Berry enjoying The Prozac Link, E4, Screaming Geo, Lewis.

Natalie Berry has been a very successful youth competition and sport climber for several years. Now in her early twenties, with podium places and 8b red points under her belt, she is motivated to move into adventure climbing and has just started trad climbing. We had a few days booked in to head north and get some routes in, taking the Hot Aches Productions crew with us. Although I’ve known Natalie for many years from our days living in Glasgow, we’ve never climbed outdoors together until last year. These days we are colleagues on the Scarpa and Mountain Equipment teams too!

The poor forecast told us to get the ferry to the Western Isles for the best possible chance of dry rock. With a wealth of mountain and sea cliffs of all different shapes and sizes, and plenty of new routes still to explore, Lewis and Harris are always still high on my list of places to hit when the warm weather arrives, despite the fact I’ve climbed there a lot over the years. To be honest, I like to go there for the general vibe of the place even more than the climbing. Stress tends to disappear here. After 5 days here I feel like I have more energy than I have for many months.

Sunshine at the Aird Uig sea cliffs, Lewis. Photo: Hot Aches Productions

On our first day, the mountain crags were looking a bit windy, wet and cold so we ended up at the Uig sea cliffs, where Nat dispatched her first E1 with ease. She was still looking a little uncertain how to approach trad pitches; arranging the protection, breaking the pitch down into chunks, and dealing with ‘trad’ type features of wet jamming cracks loose rock and the odd bird.

I got a nice E6 done, initially thinking it was new but later finding out it had been done by Jacob Cook recently. Good to see some other folk visiting the islands and putting routes up.

Repeating a nice E6 at the Flannan area. Photo: Hot Aches Productions.

The next day we went to Aird Feinis with Cubby’s excellent Top Tackle Tips (E6) in mind. But big waves battering the base of it prevented us. So we had a top rope play on two new routes, one hard E7 and the other hard E8. Nat also had a play on the E7, and obviously had no trouble doing the moves. 

On day 3 we visited the Boardwalk where Nat onsighted an E2, again without any bother at all. I climbed one E4, then backed off another soggy one. At the end of the day, Nat went for an E4 with a bouldery crux right off the ground. After some deliberation about where to start, she pulled off the ground, only for the very first hold to break off a nanosecond later. Nat plonked down on her bum on the wave platform, and we laughed that she survived her first trad groundfall. I tied in and tried another hold that stayed on the wall.

An obvious good objective for the trip was the super classic Prozac Link (4 pitch E4) in Screaming Geo. It’s widely regarded as among the finest E4s in Britain, and it’s a mega trip across the great arch; guaranteed to provide an adventure. We started up it in glorious hot sun, but cracks still damp from the sea spray, so I led. The next two pitches had a couple of wet holds or unobvious gear so I led those too, and both of us were enjoying the increasing exposure.

Hanging on the belay before the final and crux pitch, I thought it would be interesting to see what Nat decided about this pitch. Would she lead? On such a classic route, on a great day, it seemed like a good moment to take a step up. Would she feel ready? When she arrived at the belay, it was obvious she was determined to go for it. Once she set off, her movements across the wall made it even more obvious. She was going up this pitch no matter what. It was great to watch.

Natalie setting off on pitch 4 of The Prozac Link, E4, Screaming Geo.

View from the Hot Aches Productions camera of Natalie leading the Prozac Link, E4. 

The next day we returned to Ard Feinis with the E7 wall in our sights. It was damp and already raining. But I was totally psyched to do it if at all possible. Natalie linked it on the top rope with ease but still opted to pass me the lead until she had more experience placing the few crucial small cams that only just protect it.

The rain got heavier and heavier, so there wasn’t time to lose. I kept my chalkbag dry by tucking under my top until I was under the crux roof before flinging it off, drying my hands and feet and launching up the wall. Apart from a few seconds off faff drying my hands after fiddling with rainsoaked cams, I enjoyed every second of the wall, especially grabbing the monster bucket wet jug at the top and throwing on my pre-stashed Gore-Tex jacket. A first E7 since coming back from surgery and a good milestone in regaining my confidence. Nat seconded into a faceful of drips from the top of the wall, and we scurried back to the car to thaw out, happy.

I don’t know whether it’s because I’ve had a nice rest this week with lots of sleep after all those 16 hour building days at home, because I’ve been back to climbing, or because I’ve been climbing in inspiring surroundings all week, but I feel a burst of energy right now. I’ll have to use it for something good.

Looking across to the Flannan isles from Screaming Geo, Lewis. Photo: Hot Aches Productions

Review of 2013 climbing

Eiger north face. One of the best bits of 2013 climbing for me.

I wrote the post below a while ago, but just posting it now. It's mainly for my own benefit to see what I did in 2013 and get an idea of what direction to head in 2014.

2012 which was a year of intense projecting for me (to climb Font 8b+ in Switzerland and redpoint my long term 9a project at Steall). So in 2013 I made a casual decision to swing the other way and go to some new places and do some disciplines (multipitch climbing and dry tooling) which I haven’t done much of for ages.

In January 2013 I was just learning to climb again after surgery on my right ankle. I kicked the year off with a nice week in Spain where I was able to start gaining some confidence and claw some fitness back on Malsonando (8c).

In February I started to be able to move around cautiously on crampons and in the mountains, and after a couple of short winter routes, I inadvertently got involved with the huge overhanging walls near the CIC cascades on Ben Nevis. I had gone up with Kev Shields to have a day of ice pitches starting with the cascade itself, but I ended up deciding to give the big seam across the roof a look and this became the best dry tooling route I’ve ever done. It was a fantastic piece of climbing. Unfortunately it proved a bit too controversial for the Scottish winter scene, so I ended up not even claiming it as a route. I say it was a bit too controversial, but any time it comes up in conversation with climbers, they have universally told me they couldn't see the problem a few folk had with it. It's just that they didn't say so on the public discussion at the time.

In March I put a bit of work into my linkup idea, but it didn’t come together this year. There were about 4 days when it looked like I might get lucky and all the climbs would be in condition. But it was always going to be a tall order, and so it’ll have to wait. It’s such an amazing project though, so I am super keen for my next opportunity to try it.

For the rest of the spring, I did some important work to set me and my family up for the long term. We moved house in the summer to Roybridge and now have a great base for all our MacLeod needs. Settling into a good house is something I feel is very important to be able to sustain a good lifestyle over the decades to come. It takes a huge amount of work and some sacrifices in the short term. But I’m certain it’s worth it. So during April and May I worked as hard as I could to prepare my house for sale. Houses in the highlands often take north of 2 years to sell, and that would have made life quite difficult for us. I was determined to give ourselves the best chance to complete the sale and move more quickly.  The work paid off. We sold our old place in Letterfinlay to the first couple who viewed it.

During this period I was also doing a bit of running. Right after my surgery in Nov 2012, I entered the West Highland Way footrace (95 miles) as a little goal to help me with my recovery, and because It’s something I’ve always wanted to try. Unfortunately, the injuries to my foot and ankle were just too bad to allow it. I could only run intermittently during the spring and although I did manage some not bad runs, my plantar fascia which was nearly ruptured in the accident started to hurt more and more in the couple of weeks leading up to the race. I still lined up at the start line, knowing full well I wouldn’t be going far. I ran 20 miles to Balmaha. Although the rest of me was not even warmed up, my right foot was screaming in pain and I got in the car. It was a bitter moment for me. I doubt that I’ll ever be able to run again due to the damage in my ankle joint, although I continue to keep an open mind about this.

My trip to Pabbay with Donald King was a nice contrast to the running. We went with the objective of making the first free ascent of the Pabbay Arch project, tried by Cubby and later Steve McClure. I redpointed it very quickly and it is one of the most spectacular trad climbs I’ve ever seen. I’d love to go back to that roof sometime. 

It was around this time that I had a call to say my father had been taken into hospital with pneumonia. What followed was a difficult three weeks where his condition looked initially not too bad, then deteriorated steadily until he died. Needless to say this had quite an effect on me and the process of dealing with it is not really over.

I hadn’t climbed for around 6 weeks when the date came around to meet Calum in the alps for a few weeks of trying hard alpine faces. I was unfit, but not really in a caring sort of mood, so I was happy to go straight for the hardest route on the list (Paciencia on the Eiger north face) and just see what happened. I was able to climb it by leaning on skills other than fitness. It was a fun experience, but in hindsight I still was not really in a good place.

After the Eiger we headed to the Dolomites to repeat Bellavista on Cima Ovest, but we were met by a week of thunderstorms. So I went home and hastily arranged a last chance return trip with Alan Cassidy two weeks later.

Unfortunately, during that two weeks, while climbing with Natalie, I made a little mistake while leading Hold Fast, Hold True (E9 6c) in Glen Nevis and decked out, badly spraining my left ankle and breaking off several bone spurs around the rim of the joint. They had been growing since I last broke that ankle, 16 years ago, when a hold snapped during a solo of a grit E8. I knew I would need surgery, but couldn’t get it until after the dolomites trip. The day before I was due to leave for the dolomites, the swelling went down enough to get a rock shoe on my foot, so we went out, again with a ‘don’t give a ….’ attitude on my part.

I had to walk on the scree as if I was walking on broken glass, but once climbing I felt like I could go up the rock, if a little like a robot. Nothing was working anyway, it was raining, snowing and then really snowing. So on the last day when we went up to strip our fixed rope from the crux roof, I really didn’t care. That, combined with the training effect of trying to climb it when it was soaking wet for the preceding week, was a perfect scenario. It was winter conditions, but finally dry, and I was in the mood for a good fight with the pitch. So I climbed it. On the place home I remember not quite believing I’d managed to get two great alpine ticks like those two routes despite such poor preparation before the trips.

Once home, I was just on surgery countdown, and afterwards, taking the long walk through the valley of rehab, every night, doing my strange exercises standing on one leg. It’s not a whole lot of fun, but there’s no choice. Rehab exercises make you better. Finally after 6 weeks, I’m able to do winter walk-ins and even managed to jump down from about head height onto my feet at TCA.

Just now I’m flying to Patagonia for a month of whatever the Patagonian weather throws at us. I’m a little apprehensive about my lack of recent climbing, to say the least. However, I am never the type to rate my chances. What I need to remember is how much good climbing I got done in 2013 despite 2 surgeries, 2 months of DIY and dealing with the loss of my father. I also found time to write another 40,000 words or so of my injuries book which gets ever closer to being ready. I’m halfway through a redraft now and the ingredients are one by one falling into place. Working on this book has taken a huge amount of my energy and I think it will be a massive weight of my shoulders when it is complete, not to mention freeing up a lot more hours in the week for everything from climbing to spending time with my family.

In 2014 my goals are to be a bit more organised about trying the projects I want to try. Instead of just taking things as they come I want to focus on one thing until it’s done. I always work better in this mode and I need to get back to it. I also have realised I want to make some major changes in the way I train. Some of these are practical things which will mean I can get more training done and keep better control over it’s content. But I also want to change my approach to performing a bit too. I think it will make a big difference. You never know what life brings, but I would like it if the next year had less big upsets than last year. After a lot of travelling in 2013 I’m really excited about spending more time based at home in my new house and raiding projects from there. I'm also looking forward to be neither awaiting or recovering from surgery, after the year of being held back by injuries.

After Patagonia I’ve got some great Scottish projects lined up in all the climbing disciplines for the spring and early summer and then I’d like to go to the alps to try a mind blowing new route I’ve seen. I’m also going to build the most badass training board ever in my new garage!

The Great Arch, Pabbay, finally free

Donald King and myself, enjoying the boat ride back from Pabbay. The mugs were the boatman’s by the way.

June is often a time to get on a boat and go and find some amazing new sea cliff climbs to be done in the Hebrides. I’ve been lucky to have done more than my fair share over the past ten years. Yet they just keep coming! One place I’d never yet been was Pabbay. The obvious target was the Great Arch project.

The arch is of course the most striking and obvious challenge on the island. And like other lines of similar calibre such as the Longhope Route, it’s also going to be the hardest. Great! It was first tried by Cubby Cuthbertson and Lynn Hill while they were being filmed for a BBC TV programme in 1997. On that trip, the route didn’t go free although they did record it with a rest/aid point. With better weather and a bit more time, I’m sure they’d have done it. You don’t get a much stronger team that those two! Talking of strong teams, the next party to attempt it was Steve Mclure and Lucy Creamer a few years ago. Steve inspected the line on abseil and then made a great attempt to flash it, getting through the first crux. He fell in the roof, pulled back up to his highpoint on the rope and carried on to the end. He opted not to come back and make the free ascent. So, after all these years, it still needed doing. The projected grade I'd heard for the free ascent was E9 7a, but in the end E8 6c was more like it.

That is a roof that needs climbing.

I headed over with Donald King to see if we could do it. We had a good window of time to cope with the usual sea cliff problems of sea spray dampness and bad weather. So I was quite relaxed and excited about getting on it. On our first day I abseiled down the crux top pitch through the huge horizontal roof. It was totally damp with sea spray so all I could do that day was pull on and try a few individual moves in the roof on the GriGri and then do the first couple of wet pitches for something to do, abseiling off into the sea around midnight in fading light.

Next day I waited until the evening to even go on it in the hope the sea spray might dry out a bit more. It was fortunately drier when I arrived. I went down and played about a bit more on the abseil rope for an hour or so and had that feeling that maybe I ought to stop there and have a good go at the whole route the next day (and last before a big rainy front arrived).

On day three we were disappointed to find the dreaded sea spray hanging like a mist under the great arch. It was a roasting hot sunny day, but the route was dripping. All we could do was lie and sleep in the sun on the hot boulders at the base for four hours. Hard life eh?

Pitch 2.

However, sunbathing was not what I traveled all that way for. So at around tea time, almost without speaking, we got ourselves together and just started going upwards. Pitches 1 and 2 round the first pitch flew by in minutes. The big third pitch was a grunt with still wet holds lurking in the big roof, but it also went fairly smoothly for both Donald and myself. The infamous offwidth slot of pitch 4 was only a few metres in length, but my first experience of ‘scapular walking’. I have no idea if that is a climbing technique, but it worked. Pitch 5 was the most gloriously exposed and finely positioned 5a pitch I’ve ever climbed. It was so relaxing. A cool breeze began to blow as I started it, and became more and more noticeable as I shuffled across the brilliant incut flakes of gneiss, a huge roof below my feet, another looming directly overhead.

The roof of pitch 3 looming overhead. This pitch was about E5.

By the time I reached the belay below the crux 6^th pitch through the great arch, the breeze was chilling me, and I could see the colour of the gniess turning before my eyes from a that familiar flat grey of dampness to the crisp white of dryness; and friction. It’s been a wee while since I’ve had that great feeling of ‘now is the time to go for it’. Simultaneously feeling a little queasy in the stomach, and anxious to release the physical energy and adrenaline which is bursting to get out.

The next thing I knew I was 10 metres up the pitch, leaning back with my hands off with double knee bars behind a huge undercut in the most outrageous position. The first crux was right above. A full stretch reach from the undercut to a tiny crimp and then a boulder problem to get to the break at the back of the arch itself. In the space of ten minutes I’d gone from a bag of nerves with a stomach full of butterflies, to feeling totally relaxed and just eager to go for it. So the first crux felt easy. 

Unsurprisingly, the transition to completely horizontal roof climbing felt a bit of a shock to the system, and I fumbled with two cams, and then decided not to even bother with the third. I was getting too pumped. I got really excited about the next seconds as I’d find out whether I had enough power to do the crux, or fling myself into the huge space below and test the cams and wires in the creaky roof flake. So I realised I better move it before excitement turned to nerves. What followed was a classic climbing moment of a blur of slapping hands, quickly made up sequences on the hop when I did it all wrong, and a bit of aggression. In no time I found myself stood above the lip, panting to catch my breath.

The great thing about roof climbs is once you get over the lip, it’s usually over and you know it. All that was left was to fully soak up the spacey atmosphere as I abseiled back down to strip the roof and dangle around on the rope waxing about the route just climbed as the sun finally sunk into the sea.

After a 1am dinner of curry, rice pudding and cups of tea at the tents, the rain started. 36 hours or storm later, the back of the great arch had become a waterfall which would have taken days to dry out, and we got on an early boat home. On the ferry back from Barra, we were suitably inspired to seek out some more obvious great lines to point ourselves at in the Hebrides in the not too distant future. A good start to the summer, which has come seriously late in the highlands this year.

Well happy abseiling back down to strip the runners from the roof.

A happy rock climber

A still happy rock climber abbing in to do Prophesy of Drowning, E2, just before getting the boat home. If you climb E2, you must do this route.

Smiles are a running theme for rock climbers on Pabbay. It’s pretty good!

Do you need any more convincing that Prophesy of Drowning is a very very good E2?

Hebridean sunsets on the ferry home. A good moment to dream up new climbing plans.