2010 July - Leeds Mountaineering Club

LMC Newsletter
July 2010
Looking forward to a great summer!
Welcome to the second newsletter of 2010. Three months ago as the last newsletter
came out we were still experiencing winter conditions, and since then we’ve had even more
snow (see the reports of the Crianlarich meet) as well as days that were boiling hot (all
credit to those who managed to climb routes at the Roaches climbing meet in that heat, it
definitely wasn’t a high friction day!) followed by a bit of rain and as I’m typing this I’m
back in a jumper, although it’s predicted to get really hot again. Typical mixed British
weather then.
The midweek climbing meets kicked off in the usual style with a curry that was very well
attended, around 40 people at best estimate which is an excellent turn out. With the
evening climbing, evening walks, the regular indoor climbing, and now the addition of
regular mountain biking in the evenings, you need a good excuse to be bored! Keep tuned in
to the bulletin board to find out what’s happening.
Thanks to some BMC funding applied for by the committee (particular thanks to Clive) we
have some instructional days for climbing booked for this year, details on the bulletin
board. This should help increase the skills and confidence of members who choose to take
advantage of this opportunity.
The 50th anniversary of the club is coming up in 2012, and work has started on a
publication to mark this event. If anyone has anything to contribute, please get in touch
with Ken Findlay or Paul Hudson.
Thank you very much again to all those who have provided me with articles. A particular
thanks to Keith, who has written the majority of the articles in this newsletter!! I hope to
have another newsletter ready by September/October so please keep the articles coming
(email them to [email protected]), I want to hear about everyone’s summer
adventures as well as the club meets! The newsletter is not restricted solely to club
meets and in this edition we also have articles on the Antarctic, a ski trip and a visit to
Brimham. If you are a meet leader, please email me your meet report, or delegate
someone else to do the job! Photos are always appreciated to accompany articles.
Helen Taylor
P.S. Many congratulations to Clive Greenwood and Anna Horrox, who are now Mr & Mrs
Greenwood :o).
Langdale Meet - 19th/20th March - Robertson Lamb Hut
The meet was lead by Ken, and due to over popularity we ended up spread between our hut and the Fell and Rock
next door. The weather for the weekend was meant to be mixed, so when the meet members assembled on Friday
evening various walking and scrambling ideas were discussed. The winter weather was receding and despite
optimistically bringing my winter kit it was obvious there was no snow
and ice to be had. Thus with rain accounted for I decided on a gill
scramble with Anna and Dave Clarke. Andrea, James and Alex also
had the same idea. Our target was Mill Gill (Stickle Gill) followed by
the Spur on Tarn Crag and summiting by the East Ridge of Harrison
Stickle.
We started Saturday in pretty good weather, the gill looking very
enticing. Dave Clarke was the first to get fully stuck in. He got himself
fully waterproofed up and set about ascending the first set of falls, only
stopping short of the top as he decided not to step into the full force of
the water to top out. Of course at this point all the cameras were out
and much chuckling was had at the sight of the bedraggled Dave
descending. I then donned my waterproofs and had a go as well. Perhaps
finding an alternative path I managed to pull myself over the top and happily
waved a wet hand to those below.
More good scrambling and rock hopping took us to the next set of falls divided
by a rock band in the centre. Already being pretty wet from the previous falls I
felt it only polite to ascend that way as well. This required me to step fully into
the stream of water and step carefully through it. I have to say I love that sort of
thing and giggling like a school kid I descended for another go.
When the scrambling in the gill tapered out, we headed up to our continuation
scramble on Tarn crag. There were two good lines on there so I opted for the
Groove while the others took the Spur (which I descended to complete while
the others had a lunch stop). By now I had to admit that it was not so pleasant
being as damp as I was! Having had some hot tea to pick me up we headed up
to Pavey Ark, where Andrea and James opted for Jack’s Rake and the rest of
us turned towards Harrison Stickle. The scrambling was pleasant enough,
especially as it was a wide ridge and could be made as easy or hard as you
wished. At the top we waited for Andrea and James and enjoyed the views around. As we drank more tea Ken
appeared on a solo walk, having arrived in Langdale that morning.
With the temperature dipping we descended to the New Dungeon Gill for a tipple before heading back to the hut.
It would seem I was rather fortunate that night, to be sleeping in the couples dorm, as the Wayfarers volunteer who
was sleeping in the male dorm was alleged to be a horrendous snoorer, which would tally with the amount of wine
he seemed to be tucking away that evening.
The following day Dave Clarke, Anna and I headed over
to Grasmere so that Davey C could tick off some
Wainwrights and I would stay dry. Ascending up by
Sourmilk Gill I had that familiar desire to put on my
waterproofs and jump in, but I thought the others would
have been less impressed with waiting for me so I settled
for a brisk amble up the path admiring the gill. We had a
pleasant walk amongst the fells, off the usual track and
admiring the views. The weather held out for us again,
and although a little chilly in the breeze it was an
otherwise nice day. Once back in Grasmere we stopped
in Cotswolds for me to add to my mountaineering
literature collection and then headed home.
Clive Greenwood
Crianlarich Meet - Easter 2010
Lesley Houfe, John Pulford, Clive, Dave the Key Payne, Mike of the Long Night Nuttall, Andy A, Alex Zilles, Simon
Guilfoyle, Chris the Hot Water Bottle Guilfoyle, Tom no Crampons Guilfoyle, Rahul the Axe, Keith the General
Waddell, Cath Sanders, Steve W, Dave Hughes,
You know the time of year. Just after the clocks have moved on, it gets noticeably lighter each evening and the
days seem full of promise. Well, that’s how it always seems to be when the Easter meet approaches. And, after
what must have been one of the best winters in the UK for ages, surely the snow and ice conditions would hold
until Easter. Yes they did, thanks to a fresh dump of snow a few days before the start of the meet… which meant
the view from the hut on arrival was an impressive Ben More cloaked in snow and bathed in early evening
sunshine. It was looking promising!
And indeed the first day was glorious – a Good Friday indeed!
Sun cream was applied, axes were sharpened, skis were
waxed and whoosh, off we went! Skiing at Glencoe, bagging
a few Munros near the hut (Cruach Ardrain and Ben
Tullaichean) and for others Meall nan Tarmachan (sadly
without the classic ridge climb). Meanwhile, Rahul, Andy and
Clive climbed Ordinary Buttress in Corrie Nan Lochan
Glencoe starting by (extract from the meets book) “the sunny
moderate rock climb and onto the shady winter ridge. Andy
th
took the 4 pitch and did it well. Rahul was offered the final
pitch, but declined it by throwing his axe down the mountain.
So Clive had the honour of a great grade 3long pitch and
topped out after 5 hours to a glorious clear view of everything and no cloud even on the Ben”.
This was a meet of two dorms – one full of aspiring, adventurous ice climbers, the other for those inclined for more
of a lie in before a traditional mountain stomp. While the weather was never quite as good for the rest of the
weekend, it did not stop further early morning starts for some.
On the Saturday, Andy and Clive climbed SC Gully in Corrie Nan
Lochan and on Easter Sunday, the pair climbed Number 3 Gully
Buttress on Ben Nevis. As well as witnessing some BIG avalanches,
apparently it was another beautiful clear summit on Ben Nevis –
awesome! Some good routes bagged.
For others, discretion got the better part of valour on the climbing front
with poor visibility / concern about avalanche risk causing some to
back-off on both Saturday and Sunday. Here’s a quote from the
Bulletin Board from Cath “Saturday for me involved getting up at 6 am;
driving for over an hour in lashing rain to the North Face car park.
Flogging 800 m up the hill for two hours carrying a 30lb+ pack, getting
to Coire na Ciste to find it totally clagged in, hearing a couple of avalanches. Advancing tentatively up the coire in
deep soft snow, with large chunks of it sliding away under our feet, failing to find our way to our intended route.
Prevarication and disintegrating team morale. Backing off. Walking all the way back down again in even worse
clag. Out for 7 hours, and got back feeling fairly knackered without getting a route done”.
The award for the longest day out goes to Keith and Mike. It’s one thing to head up Tower Ridge from the CIC hut
underneath the Ben but it’s another thing to drive from Crianlarich to the North Face car park, walk for 2 hours or so
to CIC and then get stuck behind a very slow party of three. But well done to Keith and Mike who finally finished
the classic route at 9pm and got back to the hut at 2.30am. An impressive finish to a great
first winter climbing season for Mike**.
Other mountains climbed over the weekend included Ben Vorlich, various Marilyns including
the Corbett called the Cobbler. Well done to Tom Guilfoyle bagging the summit of the
Cobbler - reputedly the hardest mountain summit on mainland Britain!
All in all a great meet and thanks to all there for excitement, humour and good company.
Lots of impressive routes bagged – a good way to end the winter season.
Lesley Houfe
PS
Q. What do you call a collection of anoraks?
A. Big Mac. (Thanks, Tom!)
** Read on to hear it from Mike’s point of view!
16 hours on Ben Nevis
So the weather was wet and drizzly as we sat in the car at the North Face car park. "I hate climbing and walking in
this sort of weather", "Yeah it's just miserable trudging up in the clag and being cold and wet without even any
views". "Should we go and get a coffee in Fort William and see if it clears up?", "Well if it does clear up, it would be
good to be up there at that point, so we are in a position to do something" The plan was to do Tower Ridge but the
weather looked miserable and the cloud base was low. So we sat in the car for half an hour deliberating.
"OK, lets start walking and see what it's like higher up, at least we'll get a bit of a work out then, even if we turn
back"
So we set off through the woods towards the CIC hut. The path undulates gently and is flattens out occasionally so
it's not an unpleasant walk, and the weather didn't get any worse.
"It's not too bad is it?"
"No and the rain is easing off a bit, shall we carry on"
By the time we got to the CIC hut we'd even seen a bit of blue sky trying to get through.
"OK let’s do the route". By this time it was 12.00 o'clock. So we set off initially moving together. I've not done much
winter mountaineering and moving together makes me really nervous, it's more like "if one dies we both die". The
technique seems to be having to think all the time if my partner falls off which way should I hurl myself? On the
other side of this ridge with a vertical slope? Or to the ground hoping to get my axes in and hope it holds us both?
Or on the other side of that protruding rock so that we both get snagged, and hopefully the rope doesn't get sliced
through, and maybe we'll be able to climb back up if we're not too broken?
The weather was really nice at this point, it was very still and we were in a bright white mist with a bit of snow
fluttering past every now and then. You could hear the voices of other climbers shouting to each other on the other
faces on the other side of Observatory Gully. We moved together until the ground got harder and steeper at which
point we "dropped our coils" and started pitching. We did two regular pitches then some more moving together with
the full length of the rope which bought us to the "Eastern Traverse". Where there was a group of three waiting and
another climber just disappearing from the other end of the traverse. This is where the waiting began. The group of
three said they'd been waiting there an hour. We were stuck behind them for the rest of the route. The first wait was
45 minutes then we had 3 more waits that added up to between 2 to 3 hours. We heard voices from groups ahead
of us:
"Come on hurry up! Where the hell are you?"
"OK, it's all or nothing!"
The traverse is brilliant fun, a curving traverse of about 20 meters on a steep snow slope with a sort of snow ledge
for your feet kicked into the snow by successive parties with good snow for axe placements, followed by a short
chimney. Then the next pitch, the route goes up a steep blocky slope to the start of a ridge. The ridge leads to "The
Gap", which was fun. But we were having to wait at every belay for the party in front it was just too narrow to get
past them. It was getting later, and darker and colder.
Finally the last two pitches - that we probably could have done moving together if it hadn't been dark. By this time
the rope was too cold to bend into the belay device so we resorted to body belays. Topped out at 9pm. My head
torch failed and Keith's was very dim. I was very nervous thinking that probably the worst place to be without a
headtorch in the dark is on the top of Ben Nevis in winter, aware that you are in danger of sliding to your death
down one of the gullies if you are not careful which way you go. Thankfully I was with Keith whose experience and
preparedness meant that two bearings, and a short while later we were at the top of the zig zags, then on down red
burn to safety. It still took a while though as I was falling all over the place as the snow was very deep and I was
letting Keith lead the way as I didn't want to walk off the edge of a cliff, so I couldn't see were I was walking, and
frankly I was completely knackered. Finally some how we arrived back at the car via "the bog of eternal stench" or
some such place and the river Alt a' Mhuilin. Then to the nearest petrol station to rehydrate with some Scottish
champagne (Iron Brew), and back to the hut for 2am.
Mike Nuttall
Stair Hut Meet 17th/18th April 2010
The forecast was good for this, my first meet as leader, at the Stair Hut near Keswick.
Present were:
Me
Steve W
John A
Helen C
Steve Morley
Alan and Katherine C
Kev
PJ
Paul Lucas
Bruce H
Cath
Tom Storey
Paul Spinks
Debbie Hargraves
Simon and Chris G
Suzanne F
On Saturday, almost all the climbers opted for Shepherd’s crag in Borrowdale. There were at least four LMC
ascents of Little Chamonix (V Diff)
There were quite a few climbing ‘firsts’ and personal bests –
Steve Morley and Alan C had an impressive haul of ‘ticks’ including Steve’s leads of Arros E1 5b and M.G.C. E2 5c
after a long break from climbing, and Alan’s first VS lead – C.D.M VS 4c
Steve W did his first multi-pitch lead on Little Chamonix, and John A got his first trad leads done on Brown Slabs.
Starting from the hut, the walkers went over Causey Pike, Sail and Grasmoor.
On Saturday night, the culinary highlights of the meet were PJ’s flambéd Crème Brulees, Paul’s Bread and Butter
Pudding and Katherine’s Banana cake.
On Sunday, the weather remained fine and John A, Steve W, Cath, PJ, Paul L and myself set off to do Cam Crag
Ridge, one of the finest long scrambles in the lakes.
The rock was of excellent quality and there were lots of opportunities for varying the route to take in more (or less)
difficulty.
After ‘surfing’ down the long scree slope descent, we bathed our tired feet in the river, then set off up the opposite
side of the valley to meet Kev and Bruce who were climbing on Sergeant Crag Slabs, where Kev had just done his
first E2 lead (Aphasia E2 5b)
Steve Morley and Alan were at Black Crag on Sunday doing The Mortician HVS 5a
The walkers, again starting from the hut went over Cat Bells, Maiden Moor and Dale Head.
Neil Lloyd.
Raeburn Cottage, April 30 – May 2
Just five people opted for this meet at the Scottish Mountaineering Club hut north of Dalwhinnie in the Central
Highlands. Whilst we had twelve places available it was probably as well all were not taken, as even with five it
could feel crowded in the combined kitchen / dining room / lounge. On top of that, we arrived on Friday evening to
find ‘no water’ notices all over the hut. Apparently there was a blockage in the supply pipe, fortunately there was a
burn just across the road so there was much filling of buckets and watering cans throughout the weekend.
Saturday started fairly grey and damp but with a forecast of brighter weather in the afternoon. Cath dragged John A
up his first Munros – Geal Charn and A’Mharconaich in the Drumochter hills (but not with many views) – Paul had a
walk from the hut to a nearby summit, whilst Lesley and John P headed to Aviemore to do some mountain biking
around the Rothiemurchus Forest and Loch Morlich.
Sunday morning was far more promising, Cath persuaded John A to go to the three Munros of Creag Meagaidh
and this time they had some great views. As did Lesley, Paul and John P on a Corbett in the Monadhliath, also with
great views ranging from Ben Wyvis in the north, all around the western horizon to nearby Creag Meagaidh.
We awoke to showers on Monday, but with sunny spells around. Lesley and John P had to leave early to get back
to Kendal, Paul had a leisurely day around the hut whilst John A continued his Munro apprenticeship with Cath on
one of the several Geal Charns in the vicinity. Despite the water supply problems another enjoyable meet, and
John A only has another 277 Munros to look forward to.
John Pulford
Glen Brittle Memorial Hut, Skye 29th May – 4th June
In attendance: Cath Sanders (LMC/MCC), Mark Robinson (LMC), Keith Waddell (LMC),
Paul Lucas (LMC), Rachel Batt (LMC/MCC), James Hoyes (MCC/ex-LMC), Andrea Lewis
(LMC/MCC), Simon Coldrick (MCC), Alex Young (LMC), El John (guest), Simon Davies
(LMC, camping), Rachael Spraggs (LMC, camping)
In summary: Good weather, good company, few midges and just enough ridge time
with some oysters and whisky to top it off!!
NB: Please excuse the Scottish spellings, trust me, it's better than my pronunciation!
The meet was a happy joint affair with members of the
LMC and the Mynydd CC (based in the Peak District).
There were a few other people also staying in the hut
along with the very helpful warden Tim and his equally
nice wife Sandra. One of the other guests was a Scottish
mountain guide. On first appearances I thought he might
be a useful source of information. Unfortunately his
pronunciation of the names of the surrounding scenery
was bang on, ie I couldn't understand a word he said
and resorted to nodding and smiling when he told us
where he'd taken his clients that day.
Anyway, back to the point: To summarise the weather,
we had two glorious sunny days to start us off, a couple
of claggy days with the fog floating about with not a
Cuillin in sight and then two more pretty good days. The
only ridge attempt was by James, Rach B and Simon C and was scuppered when the
clag didn't lift as the forecast promised ( but it promised dammit!). The result was an
interesting navigation exercise up Coire a Ghrunnda in vis of about 5m (phew the
compass seemed to work), a quick brew by the lochan and a hasty retreat over
Bealach coire a ghrunnda, tails well and truly between rather damp legs. At least it
didn't blow the ultimate raspberry and clear up on the walk out.
There were several very successful forays up onto the ridge. Cath, Mark and Simon D
started the trip appropriately with the southern start of the ridge: Garbhs Beinn, Sgurr
nan Each and Sgurr Dubh Mor. The
description of the approach to Garbhs
Beinn was enough to convince the rest of
us that we didn't need to see that bit of the
ridge. Keith and Paul had a glorious sunny
day for heading up the excellent circuit of
Sgurr Sgumain, Alasdair, Mhiconnich via
Collie's ledge, An Stac, the Inn. Pin. and
down Coire na Banachdich. James, Rach
B, Simon C and Andrea also had a similar
trip early on in the week and then in
similarly glorious weather at the end of the
week did a loop of Sgurr Banachdich, Sgurr
Greadaidh
and
Sgurr
Mhadaidh
(affectionatley known as Gratey and Matey) coming down off Sgurr Thulim via another
brew stop at the three teeth (hooray for pocket rockets). Meanwhile Cath and Mark
had a lovely long day out up Pinnacle Ridge onto Sgurr nan Gillean and over Am
Basteir with Cath just about managing to restrain Mark's desire to abseil off just about
anything with tat at the top of it regardless of whether its en route or not!
There was some successful climbing done
on Sron na Ciche with James and Rach B
toppin g out of the Cioch Direct – Arrow
Route – Integrity link up at about 9.30pm
with just enough light to be down by
midnight! Simon C, Andrea and Rach S and
other friends rather sensibly traversed off the
main terrace when the ratio of queues to
hours of daylight remaining became clear.
At least you get a good view from the cioch
ledge whilst your waiting! Another day of
climbing took us back to Sron na Ciche but
this time Rach B and James moved together
up the highly recommended Amphitheatre Arete (Mod) with plenty of time to sit and
watch the others on the previous line, having got up early especially to miss the queues.
This time they topped out in glorious sunshine and
were back at the campsite for ice cream!
Away from the Black Cuillin, Cath and Mark had a
successful day on the classic Diff ridge from Clach
Glas to Bla Bheinn with great views of climbers on The
Great Prow. Highlighting the usual crazy variability in
the scottish weather two groups of Cath, Keith and
Paul and Alex, Andrea, El and friends had a great,
though windy, day up in the Quirang and Storr in
Trotternish when the others were nursing their cups of
tea in the clag further south. Cath ended her Skye trip
with a pleasant nature walk north, the weather
providing slightly more entertainment than expected
culminating in a strike of the headland immediately in
front of her! The incident clearly shows that no activity
on Skye should be underestimated, not even otterspotting.
On the food front Cath
and Paul got down to some good oyster eating, even
managing to break the knife in their enthusiasm. Mark had
the courage to try one himself, the rest of us just watched in
fascination and asked questions, the most disconcerting
being “Are they still alive when you eat them?”...erm! El had
a beanburger-fest and made over 20 which were taken
down to the campsite for BBQ-ing with the campers and
unfortunately the midges. Keith took a novel midge-repelling
approach of pulling his buff up over his entire head. He
maintained that he could still see through it! Keith, Paul and
Cath also managed to squeeze in a trip to the Talisker
brewery combined with a cool dip in the Fairy pools,
hopefully that was first!
Apologies to anyone's activities that I've missed out or mis-related but I think you could
take it as a good sign that we did a lot so I can't remember it all!
Rachel Batt (photos by Cath S)
The Coire Lagan Round – Skye Meet May/June
The usual Skye weather had held us back for a couple of days, so Paul and I were more
than ready for a warm, dry day out on The Cuillin. We set off shortly after 8:30am, on a
sunny and calm morning. We headed off towards Sron na Ciche, reaching the gullies
below the Cioch within an hour. It was pleasantly cool there, and we met Rachel &
friends, who were about to set off up Cioch West.
We donned helmets to scramble up the Sgumain Stone Chute. This is a bit of a
misnomer, as it's not a long slog of loose scree (like the Great Stone Chute), but rather a
pleasant jumble of stable boulders and short scree sections, that gives a good
scramble to Bealach Coire a Ghrunndha. At the top I met Nick Carter, who was the
leader of an expedition to Tien Shan I was on a few years ago. He was guiding some
clients, with mostly the same route plan as us. Very useful, I thought, I could ask him for
advice if we got lost...
We made the short easy scramble up to Sgurr Sgumain, then dropped down to a pair
of tottering pinnacles on the Sgurr Alasdair side. From here, there is a 'bad step', which
we pitched. Really only one hard move (which Paul led), but important to protect it as
a fall here would be painful (or worse). After that, it was a good scramble to the summit
of Alasdair, the highest point on Skye. We reached it 3hrs 15 min after leaving the hut,
which was ahead of time, so a good sign.
Next down the West ridge of Alasdair (easier than the guidebook suggested) to the
foot of Sgurr Thearlaich. From there, it's a short Mod & easier scramble to the summit
ridge. We headed North along the ridge, to an ab point where we broke out the rope
again. As it turned out, there's a slabby downclimb right next to the ab point, and I'd
suggest that's a quicker way down. But having got the rope out, we made two abs to
the bealach below Sgurr Mhic Coinnich.
From here, there are two choices - Collie's
Ledge, or King's Chimney. I'd come out with
the intention of doing Collie's Ledge, so we
only had a set of wires & some slings for pro.
As it turned out, we could have done the
chimney with just that. But Collie's Ledge is a
great way up too, perched right above Coire
Lagan with stunning views all around.
On Mhic Coinnich, we were now well ahead
of schedule, so enjoyed the windless, warm
sunshine at the summit. Next we aimed for the
foot of An Stac, and followed a couple of
parties up the South face there (Mod). This
brought us out at the base of the In Pinn, just
before 3pm. Despite all the picture and
guidebook descriptions, this was still a
stunning prospect, face-to-face as it were. It's
such an unlikely looking thing, this narrow
basalt fin curving above the screes.
Here we were delayed by the queues. Even
though we expected to wait, and had planned for it, we couldn't help feeling
frustrated. Paul explored the South Crack route, a Severe that had been
recommended to us, but without rock boots & only wires for pro he couldn't make it go.
We returned to the queue, fortunately not losing our place, and then moved together
up the normal route.
I caught up with an older lady, who was struggling a fair bit. Her son above couldn't pull
her up, but fortunately this was at the halfway ledge, so we were able to pass them. We
made the top quickly, and abbed off without further incident.
After drinking the last of our water, we set off down the West ridge of Sgurr Dearg. We
dropped off the ridge into Coire Bannadich, and found it very warm, facing directly
into the sun. Fortunately, we found a bivvy spot with a cold, clear running spring, to refill
our bottles. Shortly after this, we met Simon (Stone Monkey) & some friends, and sat with
them for a chat & snack.
On the way down, we found a nest, complete with two chicks and an egg.
Unfortunately for the chicks, the egg was a cuckoo's, so they were destined to be
evicted fairly soon. It's a hard life!
We made one other stop, to have a quick dip in a river pool. Just the thing to refresh
sweaty dusty bodies and aching feet. So we arrived back feeling tired and hungry, but
remarkably fresh considering the long day.
Keith Waddell
Langdale Meet - High Stile Campsite, 14 - 16 May 2010
Proper Campers: Keith, Paul, Cath, James, PJ, John, Neil
Part Time Wusses: Claire, Dave, Andy & Rachel
Big Campervan: Neil's friend Helen
Claire, Dave, Andy, Rachel & John all made impressive early starts from Leeds, to arrive at
breakfast time on Saturday. Various plans were made, and I think we all got off to some
respectably
early
starts.
Paul, Cath John & I parked at the ODG & headed for Gimmer. Cath & John went up the path,
while Paul & I headed up Middlefell Buttress. This was a good warm up, and after a short stop
for elevenses, we walked up to Gimmer and found Cath & John on Ash Tree Slabs, possibly the
coldest & windiest part of the crag. We all met up on Ash Tree Ledge for lunch, then tackled
Routes A, B, C and D; sometimes all at the same time. We wandered quite freely over the crag
in a sort of "mix-n-match-where-the-flip-does-it-go?" style. But we had a good afternoon
climbing, followed by a long ab back to the ledge & then down to the path.
James & PJ had a good day on White Ghyll crag, and Neil & Helen went to Scout Crag;
everyone ticking some classic routes, I'm told.
Dave, Claire, Andy & Rachel had a splendid day on the bikes, doing a circuit around Langdale.
They finished with a slap-up feast at The Wainwright. As the weather forecast was for rain that
night, they decided having a dry tent was the better part of valour and so packed up & went
home. Meanwhile the rest of us were ensconced in various pubs, and returned well refreshed to
have a cold and windy barbecue (just for a change).
Sure enough, it was wet overnight & in the morning. We mooched about at the site, enjoying a
long breakfast, especially the bacon sarnies from the van. Eventually we came up with a plan a gingerbread raid on Grasmere. So we strolled over the tops, admired some very picturesque
gardens, and stopped at a twee little cafe called Faery Glen. Here we had tea & bowls of soup,
and watched the birdlife - some ducks, a heron and an angry swan, which attacked my foot. (I
got better).
On to the Gingerbread Shop next, where we stocked up on delicious ginger treats, and then
strolled back over to Langdale in dry & sunny conditions.
We took down the tents while they were still dry. James suggested a tour of Cathedral Quarry,
so we stopped off there on the way home. It was well worth the slight diversion, as we explored
some tunnels and admired the soaring rock architecture. A good finish to the weekend, we all
agreed.
Keith Waddell
Stoney Middleton 11th/12th June 2010 – Meet Report
Q – How many beds in a hut that sleeps 15?
A – 12.
Bunk room – Holly, Dave R, Dave C, Dave B, Kev, Paul, Cath, Steve, Alan, Neil, Bruce, and Rahul.
Mattresses – James, PJ and Helen.
So after arriving on Friday we used that democratic method of deciding who slept on mattresses
downstairs – you snooze, you lose. James and PJ arrived last, so got the short straw, and Helen only
stayed the Saturday night, so also missed out on the beds.
Saturday dawned bright and sunny and everyone seemed to get a good day’s climbing in. Me and
Dave, Kev and Paul went to Stoney Middleton – an arduous 5 minute expedition down the road – which
was a lovely venue, very leafy and pleasant. The limestone is polished and occasionally loose in places,
but not prohibitively so. We arrived fairly early and got some really good routes in, with Dead Banana
Crack, Aurora, Pearly Gates and even a jamming crack (Minus Ten) amongst the best! James and
Helen arrived later and took part in the LMC onslaught of Dead Banana Crack – 4 ascents and 6
attempts in total!
Of the others, Dave C and Steve, Alan and Dave B and Rahul and Neil had a good day at Horseshoe,
although Neil has since been heard to describe it as scary and chossy (sign of too much time spent on
grit methinks!). Bruce, PJ and Cath claimed they were going to have a bimbly day at Burbage North, but
when ‘bimbly’ consists of PJ hanging upside down after falling off an E1 (Long Tall Sally) then I don’t
want to know what a hardcore day would be!
In the evening most of us went to the pub, some to watch the football, others not to. I was in the football
crew, but realised I might be slightly out of place when I got bored a mere 10 minutes after the first goal
and the only version of the offside rule I understood was ‘when the flag goes up’… However, a classic
howler from our keeper (you don’t expect me to remember his
name do you?!) kept me amused, and free chip butties at half
time (yum!) just about sustained my interest until the end. We
all reconvened at the hut for a bit of a chat before bed/mattress.
Sunday dawned grey and damp, so we went for a cuppa in
Hathersage and waited for it to brighten. Some people called it
a day, and others went for some grit action – me, Dave R, Dave
C and Steve went to Bamford while Kev, Alan, Cath, PJ, Bruce,
Neil, Rahul, Paul and James went to Stanage High Neb for
some grit action. We got a few routes in, but rain stopped play
in the afternoon. However, this did allow time for James to get
stuck mid-way up an HVS. Was he wearing the wrong trousers,
I hear you ask? Well, apparently not – a combination of damp
rock, very little in the way of gear placements and a nervy move
provided this eventful end to the weekend (well done to PJ for
being James' hero and throwing a top rope down!)
Altogether an excellent meet with a good mixture of limestone,
gritstone, football-watching/avoiding, tea-drinking and general
funness – thanks to Kev for meet leadering it all!
Ps. Special mention has to go to the hobbit-like eating contest
between Kev and Paul, who on Saturday seemed to be going for the record of the most meals eaten in
one day. I’m not sure who won, but I think Paul’s three lunches beat Kev’s two teas to clinch victory –
maybe some award at the annual dinner is in order?!
Holly (with a few additions by Kev)
Gargoyles January 2010
The best laid plans. All the talk was of The Peak, and climbing with the masses where Brown and Whillans once
trod. But the Welshman was courting last night, and a later start materialised, and God told us to stay within his
county, and see the gargoyles of Brimham.
The later start is compounded by an even later arrival as my memory and map reading fall foul to the glorious
views over Nidderdale, and countless
other dales, until by Fountains Abbey I
decide we might have missed the
turning.
As we step out of the vehicle there is the
smell of burnt toast in the air as the
heather burns and signs it’s name across
the azure above us. The Welshman has
only seen pictures of outdoor climbing
so is wearing a beanie, complimented by
a pair of Aviators. While he broods his
image in the wing-mirrors, I spend 5
minutes trying to orientate a map of the
Bridestones to my current surroundings
before flipping to the correct page in the
Thick Book.
As alluded to earlier, the Welshman is
climber of plastic, so an introduction to
Gritstone was required. The youth
performed well once it had been explained as “features for hands and feet”. A solo of a vicious Moderate, and a test
piece Diff laid the ground work for things to come. A lesson in linguistics was then provided to convert “those
expanding things” to “cams”, and “don’t you dare take me off belay yet” to “safe”.
We are drawn to a cave like chimney by the chirping of a ball of feathers – an element of affection was developing
towards our new friend until it crapped on my rope. The Thick
Book is consulted, and a one-star HVD is revealed. The Welshman
is persuaded this doesn’t mean it has won the World Cup, and I
head off up into the green gloom.
Victory achieved, and star on our sleeve we head due west. And
then further west. And then a bit more. Eventually we find
something we can identify in the Thick Book, and unload and load
up. There is a chockstone in this one – the Welshman has read
about these. It is a pleasant climb, although your author firstly
forgets to extend a cam placed well right, and secondly forgets to
remember this – the Welshman unfortunately releases the gear just
as I sharply take in rope, ricocheting a Number 3 Friend across the
chimney, closely pursued by a barrage of colloquialisms from the
Celt below.
It was time for something a little higher – to test bowels as well as
the mind. A five minute clamber over rock, and through weed, and
we arrive at a fine piece of Grit – proudly erect against the winter
sky. Two beautiful fissures split the face in both directions, leaving
a tic-tac-toe for our toes to tick.
A couple of gents are happily applying large quantities of ironmongery to the first line – an attractive VS – but the
main dièdre looks the most impressive. Again VS, but this one has 3 Cup Winner’s medals. But that is for a little
later – first one must acclimatise.
To the right of our face is a V Diff of favourable description. It takes me a good 5 minutes to get off the ground, but
the rock is warm, the protection plentiful, and the Welshman asleep. I summit and watch the two gents finish in
great style at the other end of the sandcastle, and the Welshman ascends with equal finesse, wiping the sleep from
his eyes.
Upon re-entry, the gents have started up our target, so we skittle off to an interesting Severe hidden behind many a
fern, and possibly of inspiration to Conan-Doyle. Here more education is required, the Welshman conjugates with
great enthusiasm – “I thrutch, you thrutch, he thrutches, she thrutches…”
Thrutch we did, and route was ours, so back to the base, in
search of our sought-after. Brimham is now deserted bar a
seven-year-old child soloing Birch Tree Wall with an ice
cream in her hand.
The rocks glow bronze and the car park shuts in an hour, so
we dispense with the foreplay and quickly climb-when-ready.
It’s a gem. A classic narrow off-width, built perfectly to cause
you exactly the right amount of pain – any more and you’d
quit, any less and it would remove the sense of achievement. I
jam to the first ledge and thus to the crux – not tricky, just a
bit exposed, but easily protected by a Number 2 Friend. Which
I promptly drop on the Welshman. He can’t reach it, so I fireup one of those old-skool-hex-things – a bolas for hunting
Gritstone climbs. My cojonnes suitably inflated, I try a
layback and make suitable progress, and get my mits on the
next horizontal. Blood, sweat, and fears get my feet where my
hands were, and the bulk of the climb is done! A dip under a
protrusion, and a mantelshelf into a puddle and I’m there.
Only I’m not, ‘cause the puddle is wet., and I’m back under
the protrusion again – safe, but wishing I’d put some gear in
early. Another hop, skip, and a mantel, and amen.
I think the Welshman shouts “That’s me”, but it sounds like
“ow”. Never mind – on with the task. The rope drips in for a
while and then stops. And it stays stopped. That is until 13 stone of Welshman in applied to it, and sundry
blasphemies filter up through the evening air. I watch as some parents encourage their kids to lob rocks off the top
of the cliff – I consider stopping them, but second thoughts suggest it might speed the Welshman up, so I let them
be.
Just as I’m contemplating the indignity of being benighted at a crag, the blue beanie appears. It is followed by an
imitation of a seal being beached. More education required – but the mantelshelf can wait ‘till next time.
Stuff the rucksack, peal off the boots,
and battle through the twilight
undergrowth to leave before they lock
us in. And there you have it. June in
January. The cuts will sting and bleed,
but there are lashings and lashings of
fizzy beer to be drunk back in Jake’s, to
make sure that we’re drunk back in
Jake’s.
Richard Hannam
Ski Touring in the West Valais
The following is an account of a trip I undertook with the Eagle Ski Club (ESC) this Easter. The ESC is a
ski touring / ski mountaineering club that organises about 40 trips a year; some led by experienced
members and some led by professional guides, who are also club members.
This trip comprised six members and an English guide. The plan
was to ski in a southerly loop from the Rhone valley to the Italian
border and back. It would take six days and we would spend each
night in a mountain hut. The six of us had planned to fly out but
the erupting Icelandic volcano meant last minute changes to travel
plans and we all ended up driving to Switzerland, arriving in Les
Hauderes, Val d’Herens for the Saturday night hotel rendezvous
with our guide. Our travails were slight compared to another LMC
member, who had been on an identical ESC tour the week
preceding ours; discovering her flights home were cancelled, she
had to make her way across Europe and blag a trip across the
channel and home.
On the Sunday we bussed it round to the next valley and departed a
sunny Siviez (1733m). All week we enjoyed sun when it was
needed and any snow fell lightly only once we had reached huts.
The exception was our final day, which started overcast but
Photo taken by guide Andy Teasdale.
brightened later. On the way up from Siviez we benefited from
gentle acclimatisation as we headed to the unguardianed Refuge de
Saint Laurent, above Lac de Cleuson, at 2485m. We passed many people who had skied off the back of
Mont Fort in the Verbier system and were heading back down. We had the refuge to ourselves and, after
getting the fire going and melting plenty of snow for water, we enjoyed a comfortable night.
On Monday we skinned up Rosablanche (3336m) with only a short climb on foot to the summit. The
descent to the delightful Cabane de Prafleuri (2624m) blew away the cobwebs on our ski legs.
Day 3 saw us on the Haute Route as we ascended Col des Roux (2804m) and traversed above Lac des Dix
before climbing up to the convivial Cabane des Dix (2928m). The hut was occupied by a lively
contingent of Swiss soldiers who were involved with the forthcoming Patrouille des Glaciers race,
evidence of which was seen all week.
A big day followed when we climbed the lovely winter summit and great viewpoint of Mont Blanc de
Cheilon (3827m), again only needing to proceed on foot for the last few metres. We were challenged by
deep snow on the descent to the Glacier de Gietro, before crossing two cols to reach the rather
unwelcoming Cabane de Chanrion (2462m), which must have the worst toilets in the Alps.
Coincidentally, Whymper described the chalets at Chanrion as “a foul spot, which should be avoided”;
nothing has changed in 150 years!
Our second big day involved a delightful skin up the lower Glacier de Brenay, a bootpack up the side of a
spectacular 250m icefall and a hot slide on the upper glacier all the way to the summit of the Pigne
d’Arolla (3796m). The ski down to the recently refurbished Cabane des Vignettes (3160m) was nothing
short of superb.
The plans for our final day were modified to suit the weather and we skinned all the way to the summit of
the Pointes d’Oren (3525m) before tackling deep snow on the descent to Col de l’Eveque. The skiing
down the Glaciers d’Arolla and all the way to the lift station at Arolla itself was a delightful way to end a
very successful, safe and enjoyable week.
Andy McRoyall
A Summer Evening Walk
In November last year I was working at Fossil Bluff,
one of the British Antarctic Survey bases on the
Antarctic Peninsula. Fossil Bluff was originally a
geological base, staffed all year round, but now is a
summer only airstrip and refuelling depot for planes
heading further south. It lies on Alexander Island,
which is (using the international unit of land area)
about the size of Wales. The Bluff looks out over King
George Sound, which separates the island from the
main peninsula and is permanently frozen.
The station consists of a living hut, optimistically
(though inaccurately) called Bluebell Cottage. There’s
a disused garage, store hut and emergency caboose
too. The airstrip is about 3 Km away, out in the King
George Sound, and consists of a skiway, fuel depot
and a round fibreglass pod, nicknamed the Apple Hut, to shelter in while waiting for planes.
There were just two of us there, me and Tony, an electrician from Luton. We were enjoying a spell of very sunny,
settled weather; but in Antarctica that means you get as much work done while you can. So it had been a busy day,
and it was getting on for 9:00pm (or 00:00 Zulu, as we had to say…) before we set off on our evening walk.
The hills which rise straight above Fossil Bluff are classed as a ‘Local Travel Area’. This means they don’t have
significant objective dangers (like crevasses) and, with the addition of a satellite phone, you don’t need any more
gear than you would for a Scottish winter mountain day.
Tony & I set off across the coire behind the hut, weaving through the fantastic natural ice sculptures (penitentes)
formed by differential melting of the surface snow. We headed up a snow filled gully, to avoid the loose scree which
makes up most of the slopes around the Bluff. Although not dangerous, it’s very frustrating to walk on, one step
forward and two steps back. The snow gully was an easy plod, and took us to the first summit, called Scarab Bluff.
All the features in the area have an Egyptian theme, as the highest peak (Giza) forms a distinctive pyramid when
seen from the hut.
Tony would be first to admit, he’s not a mountaineer.
There was a fair amount of huffing and swearing as
he plodded up the snow, but he was delighted to
reach the first objective. We stopped for a drink &
admired the view back down to the hut. There was no
wind, and the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky.
Although it was lowering to the south-west, at that
time of year it wasn’t going to set, so the effect
through the evening was of a late summer afternoon
back home. Air temperature was -5 C, but you’d only
notice it if you stood still for too long.
We continued across a small plateau, puzzling over
the land formations we saw there. With very little
liquid water present, the main erosion is by frostshattering, and the shattered rock stays in place, more-or-less. So the rocks have a bristly appearance, and can be
pulled by hand into dozens of shards. The eroded rock isn’t washed away or covered in soil, and there’s no plants
or moss. The only visible life is a fibrous black lichen on the sheltered side of the boulders. We found three oddly
regular mounds of the dry, shattered rock; if they were anywhere else we’d have guessed at burial mounds!
We continued upwards, walking over millions of years worth of rock strata, stopping occasionally for fossils,
changes in rock types and odd rock formations. We were heading for Sphinx Peak, named for its golden cap of
sandstone, overlooking the Sound.
It was a slightly surreal experience - with no animal or plant life there, the only sounds are ones you make yourself.
Distance perception is affected; the clear, dry air gives the mountains a sharp quality that makes you think they’re
closer than they are. And with no trees or other familiar yardsticks, it’s easy to misjudge distances.
However it was a relatively easy slog up to The Sphinx. The
summit there gave a superb panorama across the Sound, to the
Batterbee Mountains on the mainland and the highest visible
peak, Mt Bagshawe. We could also look 2,000 ft straight down to
the skiway, which was just a line of dots from there. Tony was
elated, for him it had been a real effort to get there, and he
pronounced himself happy to do “just the one!” I pointed out that
most ‘proper’ mountaineers will never get the chance to do even
one Antarctic peak, and he should be well pleased with himself.
(Which, I think, he was!) As we sat taking in the view, we had the
rare experience of complete, absolute silence. So complete, that
if I held my breath, I could hear my heartbeat, and the pulsing of
blood in my ears.
Given such a perfect evening, we were in no hurry to go back down, so we headed off along a ridge to check out a
feature called ‘The Bailey Window’. This is a wall of harder rock, linking two of the peaks, with a perfect straightsided notch cut into it by wind & frost. From there, we could look over to the mountains stretching into the interior of
Alexander Island.
The ridge which leads up to Giza Peak from there presented a technical challenge - either a traverse of an ice
slope above a huge drop, or a scramble over loose blocks on an exposed ridge. We decided neither was very
appealing, and so descended a moderate snow slope to get back to Scarab Bluff. From there, we could bum-slide
most of the way down the gully, and then a short walk across the coire got us back to the hut.
We were quite surprised to find it was nearly 2:00am - the sunshine, exertion and absorbing scenery had made the
time fly by. We brewed up some soup and hot chocolate, then sat up reviewing our evening, agreeing that, for
many reasons, it was truly unforgettable.
A Visit To The Ellsworths
The Ellsworth Mountains lie at 80‘ South, forming the southern boundary of the Antarctic Peninsula, rising above
the Ronne Ice Shelf. In January, I was sent out from Sky Blu airfield to the Rutford Ice Stream, at the foot of the
mountains…
We’re flying in a Twin Otter skiplane, the workhorse
of the Survey’s air operations. These versatile
aircraft fly all over the continent, carrying fuel,
supplies, equipment and staff and landing on skis or
wheels anywhere flat & stable enough to hold them.
On this trip we’re in VP-FBC or ‘Bravo Charlie’,
piloted by Mark, with Johnny as co-pilot and me as
GA. We’re setting up a fuel depot near the research
project on the Rutford Ice Stream, known (for some
obscure reason) as RABID.
Today it’s a “dingle day”, which means cloudless,
very sunny and no wind. After lunch we load 4
drums of aviation fuel into the plane (we filled the
plane’s own tanks last night), along with an empty
drum, various lengths of wood, and a few boxes of
supplies for the RABID camp (mostly luxuries, as they’ve been there 2 months). We also have a ‘P-Bag’ each - not
what you might be thinking, the P stands for Personal - this contains a karrimat, thermarest, and sheepskin; a Rab
down sleeping bag with liner, and a large Goretex bivvy bag. We also add a ‘P-bottle’ (in this case the P does
mean ‘pee’), toothbrush, wet wipes & sundry overnight stuff.
Once we’re airborne & heading south, I make myself comfortable on the folding seat behind the cockpit. The back
of a Twin Otter is like a long, narrow van, designed for ease of loading and not for passenger comfort. It’s noisy and
cold, though it will warm up fairly quickly. I’ve got my iPod and a pair of Bose noise cancelling headphones, and a
good book; as the flight will be nearly 3 hours. It’s hard to read though, so I watch the scenery until it gets very flat
and white, then doze off as best I can.
Johnny shakes me awake. I’m not connected to the in-plane comms, so he just points out of the front window. The
Ellsworth Mountains are visible, rising suddenly out of the flat whiteness, from almost sea level to over 4,800
metres at the Mount Vinson Massif, the highest point in Antarctica. Vinson itself is a plateau without an obvious
summit, so Mount Tyree is more impressive, and looks higher, though it’s actually just a bit closer.
We descend towards RABID, and I can see the edge of
the Rutford Ice stream. In the midst of the flat, blank
white surface, there’s a depression which stretches
across the field of view. As we approach, it‘s revealed to
be a bank, exactly like that of a large river, with curves
and bays in it. It‘s a vivid demonstration that the ice cap
isn‘t a solid, unmoving mass; it is constantly shifting and
flowing. The seemingly solid ice has rivers within it, and
the effects of the geography beneath it are clearly
visible from our 9,000 ft altitude. We cross the Ice
Stream, and looking at both banks the similarity to a
wide river is even more pronounced.
Mark circles above a point, identified by our GPS, about
4 Km from the main camp. This point is code-named
BEAMISH, again for no readily apparent reason. There’s a line of flags in the snow, placed there by the Field
Assistants earlier, to mark out a safe crevasse-free skiway. We make one pass over it, just for a visual check, then
turn again and make a smooth landing.
Once the props have stopped, Johnny & I jump out, open up the cargo doors & set up the ramps. Then Mark
unstraps the barrels, and rolls them down to us. We chase the barrels as they roll across the snow, slow them
down & herd them together. Then we unload the empty barrel, wood and ropes. While we’re doing this, Roger and
Iain arrive on skidoos, from RABID. They’ve been there for two months, and have at least another month to go, so
are comically delighted to see us. Everyone grabs a shovel,
and we start to make a depot. This is quite a simple job; we
plant a 2.5 metre length of 2x4 upright, with the empty barrel
on top, and four guy ropes to buried “deadmen” in the snow.
Then we dig out a flat surface, place planks of wood across it,
and roll the full barrels upright onto the planks, nestled snugly
together. The pole and empty drum will stay above the winter
snows, and will show on a radar screen next season when the
first plane comes to look for them. Then some lucky GA will
have to dig out the barrels.
Mark readies the plane for take-off again, to make the short
hop over to RABID. Iain will fly co-pilot, and I’ll drive his skidoo
back to camp, so we’re both getting a bit of a joyride. Roger
and I wave them off, then scoot off towards camp. It’s a bright sunny evening, with some low cloud towards the
mountains, air temp about -20 C. To my left, the horizon, formed by the northern bank of the Rutford, is a
geometrically flat line, dividing dazzling snow-white from cloudless sky-blue. To my right, there’s the awesome
backdrop of the mountains, seemingly close in the crystal clear air, although the foothills are 25 Km away, and
Vinson is over 50 Km distant. Roger takes my camera, and snaps a few ‘vanity shots’ of me driving past, framed by
the mountains. This drive remains one of my favourite memories of Antarctica.
At the camp, we’re greeted by Andy Smith,
BAS chief scientist, who has been cooking.
By now it’s after midnight, but we all pile into
his tent for platefuls of chicken & rice,
homemade biscuits, bottles of beer and a
couple of fine single malts. We exchange
gossip, rumours and scandals; and end up
laughing til we can’t breathe.
Reluctantly, in the early hours, we decide to
get some kip. It’s a brilliantly sunny night,
with no wind, so Johnny and I decide to
bivvy. We unpack our sleeping mats &
bags, arrange them inside the oversized
bivvy bags, and crawl inside. Inside the bag,
it’s wonderfully cosy. I can feel the sun on
the bit of my face that’s exposed; and after
a day of hard work, good food, whisky and excellent company; I’m soon in a deep and untroubled sleep.
Climbing Stork Ridge
It was my last full day in the Antarctic. I was flying out to Punta Arenas, in Chile, on Monday morning; so I was keen
to make the most of my final Sunday. Fortunately, another fine day was forecast, so I teamed up with Clive (Field
Assistant), Matt (Doctor) and Mel (Marine Biologist) to climb Stork Ridge. We had a substantial brunch at 12:00,
then headed to the sledge store to kit ourselves out.
Half an hour later, we took a couple of skidoos up the 'Ramp' (the ice slope above the runway at Rothera) and
followed the track along the 'Traverse' below Reptile Ridge and across to Stork Bowl. This is the limit of the
Rothera 'Local Travel' area, so you need to be fully equipped for glacier travel and crevasse rescue. BAS definitely
takes a "belt and braces" approach to equipment; no fast and light Alpine tactics here!
We were each carrying:
2 x snow stakes
3 x ice screws
2 x ice axes
Belay plate on a quick draw
2 x jumars
4 x pulleys
4 x 120 cm slings
1 x 240 cm sling
2 x prusik loops
4 x spare krabs
... and bear in mind, all the krabs are screwgates!
We were also carrying VHF radios, immediate aid packs, spare clothing, food and drinks. So any climbing
ambitions are necessarily modest. Coupled with the lack of any helicopter rescue, and that in an emergency it
would be our own friends and colleagues who would have to come out & get us, you can see why we keep to
straightforward routes and simple plans.
Stork Ridge forms a natural boundary, with Reptile Ridge, to the local area for Rothera. Our plan that day was to
take a line through some small crags on the side of Stork Ridge, then a snow and ice slope to the ridge, which
would go at mostly Scottish Grade II with a short section of III. The approach had a small crevasse line slanting
across it, but this was easily crossed.
Due to the consistently cold and windy conditions, the Antarctic landscape has its own peculiar features. Wind
scoops can build over the years into towering features, that develop their own crevasses, often in unexpected
orientations. So we went carefully up the slope, always alert to changes in the snow surface. We reached the crags
with no difficulties though, and took a belay there.
Clive led off from there, with Matt a couple of metres below and to one side, so that he could practice leading, with
helpful advice if needed from Clive. Mel and I belayed the two of them. It looked like only three pitches to the ridge,
and anywhere else I'd have been happy to move together or even solo it. But here we moved carefully, placing
snow stake belays. Although it was a gorgeous sunny afternoon, we were on the shady side of the ridge, so after a
couple of pitches we were shivering quite freely. We also realised that it
was a longer climb than we first thought! Finally though, we were on the
final slope and back into the sunshine.
We reached the ridge at about the time we'd expected to be heading
back. This was no problem though, we had our VHF radios, the weather
was still glorious and we had hours of usable daylight left. We radioed
back to Rothera, telling them we were all OK and could they reserve 4
Sunday dinners for us. We found a picturesque spot on the ridge, to sit,
eat chocolate in the sun, and take in the amazing view.
I'd grown familiar with the the view around Rothera, but never tired of it,
and now I had a new angle on it. To the south-west, Mounts Gaudy,
Liotard & Barre enclosed the bay, crowded with icebergs. The sea was
calm and shone brightly in the lowering rays of the sun. Jennie, Leonie
and Lagoon Islands punctuated the view to the south. Directly ahead
(south-east), Reptile Ridge led down to Rothera Point and the South
Cove. To the east, the Sound separating Adelaide Island from the
mainland, Pourquoi Pas Island, and the mountains of the Arrowhead
Peninsula caught the rays of the sun. Once again, and for the last time, I
could savour the calm Antarctic silence. We stayed as long as we could,
but too soon we had to head back down, taking the easy-angled ridge
back to where we'd parked the skidoos.
Sitting backwards on the skidoo (I wasn't driving) on
the way back, I savoured one long, last look at the
snowbound landscape. Just one tiny corner, of a
smallish island, off the northern spur of a whole empty
continent. Not for the first time, and hopefully not for
the last, I felt overwhelmed by the vast empty sky
above me and the thousands of miles of frozen, silent
landscape surrounding me.
I returned with mixed feelings - sorry to be leaving, but
grateful and privileged to have been there and seen
these small parts of another world.
Keith Waddell