Saturday morning saw us head off to tackle Lochnagar.  Having driven about 6 miles down a single track road I was surprised to find, at the end of it, not only a whole load of other cars but also a toilet block and visitor centre.  That did explain the inordinate amount of grit on the road but make me feel slightly cheated as I thought we’d have the place to ourselves.  I needn’t have worried however as after we passed a couple of people on the way up we only saw about another three groups all day.  (And I’m sure it wasn’t just because everyone else was hidden in clag. )

We set off in bright sunshine and had this until the plateau just short of the summit of Cac Cairn Beag.  On the summit, SH decided to try out his new satellite phone and struck a pose reminiscent of Del Boy in ‘Only Fools and Horses’.

Descending from the summit we dropped down beside the waterfall and finished off by walking around Loch Muick.  About half way round we encountered a gr oup of young lads who told us a woman who’d hurt her leg was just around the corner.  The cold sweats set in thinking I’d have to put into practice my first aid training from last week (Step one: jazz hands.  Step two: don the elbow length gloves.)  but fortunately her husband had already patched her up and set off to call Mountain Rescue.  ‘A ha,’ thinks SH ‘I’ll help save time by calling from my sat phone.’  Erm, maybe not.  Not only did the normal phones have no reception down by the loch but neither did the sat phone.  Lets hope the guys don’t find themselves behind anything tall when they’re stuck in a snow drift in Iceland.

As we neared the car park we were passed by the two Mountain Rescue jeeps and as the light was beginning to fade we picked up the pace and headed off to the pub for pints of Caledonia Ale and venison burgers.

Sunday morning started misty but you could just tell it was going to be a stunning day.  The sun was already trying to burn off the mist and, again, there wasn’t a breath of wind in the air.  We parked just below the Glenshee ski resort and struck off along the stream and up to our first Munro of the day.  (I believe we did three but I’m yet to find out what they were.  Sorry but I can’t pronounce the Scottish names let alone remember how to spell them!) It was wonderful to have the grouse fly out in front of us and see the mountain hares, in their white winter splendour, chasing each other across the hill side.

The sun was so warm, and it was such warming work walking through the snow on the ascent, that I stripped off and resorted to walking in my bra in an attempt to cool down.  I got a slightly odd look off a guy at the top but the rest of the local wildlife didn’t seem to mind.

The views from the summit were amazing and you could see for miles in every direction.

We continued round and on reaching the next summit spotted some cross country skiers.  You could see SH go green with envy but  we managed to distract him by having a go at making an impromptu sun dial in the snow.

The way down at the end of the day saw us donning the crampons and making our way down the pistes of the Glenshee resort.  There was just enough snow left on them to make us all jealous and determined to get in a morning’s session before heading back home the next day.

It wasn’t to be though: lying in bed on Monday morning it was quite clear that the weather had taken a turn for the worse.  You could hear the wind howling outside and looking up the only view was of a dark and stormy sky.  I phoned the ski centre in the unlikely hope that it was better up there (as if three miles was really going to make that much difference!) but when she was clearly not trying to sell me any tickets I realised it must be bad.  So, reluctantly, we packed up and set off for home.

It had been a great weekend in a lovely bunkhouse which I can’t recommend highly enough.  (Not only did we get a clean bathroom towel each day but we also got a clean dish cloth each day and she put the lads’ toothbrushes into mugs for them!)  Hopefully next time I go there I’ll be able to get some cross country skiing or some snowboarding done but even without the snow sports it had been well worth the trip up. 

Tom, Ross, Ali and I Got up extremely early for a Mercian meet and we left the hut by 8am despite Tom’s best efforts to faff .  We headed up the path by the side of the river to Pen y ole wen enjoying pleasant weather.  as we approached the lake at the back the cloud cover came in which made it difficult to find where we started our climb.  Just for fun the boys sent me up ahead to the start of the gully and then pretended that it wasn’t the right way so that I was able to walk up the steep bit of the path through deep snow TWICE!!!! Thanks Ross.

Broad Gully was a nice climb with a few interesting bits along the way that involved a bit of actual ice climbing. The first of these was led by Tom as it was quite steep but the other icy parts were easy enough that we just climbed them without the rope.

Coming back down Tom decided that he didn’t need to use crampons which kept us amused, especially on the icy bits.

Sunday 5th Feb – Y Garn

Walked up Y Garn via Devils Kitchen with Adam, Ali and Louise.  The weather remained nice and Louise got to use crampons for the first time.  

 A brief exploratory foray into the Grade 3 Central Gully revealed a lack of decent snow cover so we traversed round into Near Right Gully grade 2 which was more shaded and more complete.
Climbing upwards steadily was straightforward but there were several awkward steps at chest height which needed considerable care. Axe placements were best achieved in the frozen turf as the snow and ice weren’t substantial enough.
A final airy traverse under a rocky band with the slope sweeping away beneath our feet and we pulled out onto the summit.
We had lunch on the summit with the many hillwalkers and began the descent. We were briefly entertained by an RAF rescue helicopter airlifting a climber to hospital. His friends watched from above. Apparently he had slipped in the gully next to ours and slid some twenty metres injuring his leg. He was soon gone however and we made our way back to the car.
A good mountaineering day and it was good to get a winter route done in a more unusual area.

Most of the others were soon up and about as TG,RP, JM and AW were heading off to do Broad Gully on Pen y Ole Wen and needed an equally early start.

By 8.30am we were at the Ogwen Cottage carpark and SH, Muffin and I set out up the path little realising how long it was going to be before we’d be coming back down it.  What was planned as a quick skirmish turned into a full blown battle against knee deep snow, darkness and SH’s navigational skills.

The path up was iced from the start and we had to put crampons on fairly early on.  It was Muffin’s first time in them so it proved to be a baptism of fire for him.  The visibility was poor and we overshot the path up to the Bwlch we meant we had to retrace our tracks and wade through deep snow to get back on track.

At 10.30am we were at the start of Bristly Ridge which was in full winter conditions although there was a lot of powder snow in the gully which made the climbing more difficult.  I’d never done Bristly before and was imagining it to be more like Crib Goch in winter conditions so I hadn’t anticipated exactly how much of a climb it was going to be.

We pitched most of it and ended up doing about ten pitches and moving together for the final bit.  I’d love to see a proper route description to see where we went as at one point we descended and traversed around the left hand side of the ridge before having another series of climbs up. 

We were relived when we finally got to the top of the climb at 4.20pm.  It was clear we were down going to be descending in the dark so it was a quick change of gloves, a snaffle of chocolate and then a quick move off….. in the wrong direction.  We again had to retrace our steps in deep snow and I was reminded of Winnie the Pooh when he’s hunting Heffalumps and had the horrible feeling we might be going round in circles all night.

Eventually we found the descent path but by now the head torches were out and after losing the cairns in the clag we took another wrong turn which wasted about 20 mins.  By now, however, we could see the lights of the cars driving down the road and that spurred us on.

The path which had been so icy and treacherous on the way up had melted into a stream and the crampons were proving more of a hindrance than a help in the slush so we stopped to take them off.  Typically though, about 10 minutes later we came across another iced over section of path and we had to lose time by skirting all around the edge of it to avoid falling head over heels.

I was really running on empty at this point and said to Muffin I had 10 minutes left in me and that was it.  No sooner had I said that than we mounted a small crest and could see the roof of the toilet block in the car park ahead of us.  We raced down the final bit and I got there with a few minutes left of energy to spare.  By this point we were thoroughly soaked, my shoulders were aching terribly, my feet were sloshing around in swimming pools of water and all we could could think of was food, drink and warm clothes.  12 hours after leaving the car in the morning we were finally back to its heated seats and cheesy tunes.

Arriving back at the hut we were greeted by cups of tea, offers of booze and massive plates of haggis and mash.  I never thought I’d eat it but I was so hungry I’d have eaten anything: it actually proved to be rather delicious.  I found I could barely lift the bottle of beer up to my mouth as my shoulders hurt so much from a day’s ice axe swinging so Lou offered to hold it up for me.

Apart from the 13 hour day with Norman on the Ballachulish Horseshoe a few years ago (and that was just a walk) this was my biggest mountain day ever and it proved to be an awfully big adventure.  Luckily SH is one of the calmest people I’ve ever met and has now twice proved he can cope with me in stressful situations.  Despite what it says on Muffin’s video they didn’t have to leave me on the mountain because I became hysterical and although there were a few comments (comments not moans I’ll have you know) about how my hands were cold I think I stayed in pretty good spirits throughout.  Considering it was Muffin’s first ever winter climb he out climbed us on a number of sections and did a great job of keeping me smiling and singing on the belay ledges.

Despite the fact we’ve been up since 6.30am and done 12 hours on the hill we still outlasted most people in the evening and enjoyed a few drinks and some good company before retiring to bed for a good night’s sleep.  (Which, thanks to covering myself in every single item of clean clothing I’d brought with me, I actually had.)

It had been a long battle but one that we won although not without the battle scars as Muffin’s trousers prove.

On the Friday evening inspired by a reasonable forecast Alan Hardie, Jon Massey  and Iain Carter headed up over the border for a weekend raid in Glencoe.

We slept inside and outside the car at Loch Lomond and after a good four hours sleep continued onwards arriving at eight. The objective was Summit Gully a 450 metre grade 1 snow and ice climb, a worthy tick in anyone’s book.

Soon we were off, up the steep path at the side of Loch Achtriochtan (near the Clachaig Inn road junction). An hour and a half slog brought us to the foot of the mountain were we went to and fro trying to find the gully entrance. Eventually we found it and it began with a steep but straightforward ascent up snow. About half way we arrived at the cave pitch. This is an abrupt buttress obstructing the gully and normally gives a good ice pitch. However there was no real ice cover and we escaped by traversing round a rather dodgy grass slope with the snow breaking away from under our feet. Ice axes in frozen turf provided the only security. This was short lived however and we soon continued onwards and upwards arriving on a cloudy summit after about four and a half hours work.

There wasn’t much in the way of views but we went on up to Bidean Nam Bian summit before returning down the ridge and back down the glen. The bunkhouse in Tyndrum provided more comfortable accommodation than the previous night and with Sunday morning rain we decided to bail out and head for home.

Getting there proved to be the biggest adventure as we slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid a couple of rocks which were blocking the road to the hut.  Had I  been travelling in a banger of a car, or with less heroic Mercians, we might have got there without getting soaked and crippled back but as I was in a very posh car with a couple of macho men I was in for a soaking.  The ‘these’ of the “We’ll just get these out of the way,” fame rapidly turned into a full blown landslide as the lads showed why the never win when we play Jenga.

It was clear that in the dark, and pouring rain, we weren’t going to be able to move the mound of rocks enough to get the car round so we had to load ourselves up like pack horses, ditch the car and walk in the rest of the way.  (When are we going to get that club llama?)  As it was chucking it down with rain, the path was a stream and we’d only go trainers on, we arrived at the hut soaking wet.

On arrival, we discovered that the others we sat waiting in the car park having managed to negotiate the rocks in the road without brining half of the Lake District down on top of themselves.

The evening was spent chatting and trying to work out a plan of attack for the following day.  CJ was on his best behaviour this time and didn’t suggest we take the newbies up any grade 4 ghyll scrambles although you could see the glint in his eye as he was flicking through the guide book.

Saturday morning dawned….. wet and windy.  It was clear we weren’t going to make it on to the tops without being blown straight back off so a lower level, circular route was planned.  Forgetting my promise that I’ll never set foot out of the door if it’s already raining, I donned my waterproofs and put on a brave face.

Despite the wind and horizontal rain it was actually a really enjoyable day.  We had a slight issue at the start when arguments about navigation revealed that, unbeknownst to each other, our ‘leaders’ were both trying to navigate us to entirely different areas.  Once that was sorted, though, we put our heads down and our best feet forwards.

Halfway point proved to be the Old Dungeon Ghyll inn for some liquid refreshment.  After which we raced the bad weather back to the hut and were rewarded with a lovely sunset over the ridge.

Saturday evening was games night and saw the girls beat the boys at Trivial Pursuit, the newbies were introduced to the cereal box game and table traversing and we played a very infuriating game of ‘Who am I?’.  Having forgotten the post-it notes again, we had to resort to writing on bits of finger tape but it seemed to work.

Being in the sporting mood, it wasn’t long before the table traversing challenge was laid down and the lads stepped up.  This time it was the boys who were victorious but who will, undoubtedly, now we wearing their battle scars all up their legs as proof of their exertions.

As a result of the energetic performances put in on the games on Saturday evening there were a few aches and pains amongst the team come Sunday morning.  That, coupled with wet boots (drying room my…) and more wet and windy weather led a number of people to bail and head out for the typical wet weather gear and tea room shopping.

Those members who didn’t reach the latter rounds of the games the previous night did head out to the hills and we look forward to hearing about their exploits.

All in all, we had another really enjoyable weekend with great food, great company and giggles galore.  Roll on Tan Y Garth!

The walk-in

On January 2nd, Karl, Tom and Sarah L walked up into Stob Coire nan Lochan above Glen Coe to see if we could get some winter climbing done. It had snowed to quite a low level over night, and as we got into the corrie we were wading through two foot drifts, an indication as to just how much snow had fallen higher up. This put paid to our plans of checking out the gullies, as the risk of avalanche would have been too great, and we’ve have had to swim up the gullies, rather than climb them.

Stob Coire nan Lochan

Instead we opted for Dorsal Arete, a mixed snow and rock route that it safe from avalanche (except briefly on the approach). We had made an early start from the car park, and were rewarded by being the first on the route (3 days earlier we had come here to do this route and found 13 people on it in front of us).

To make quick progress, we made two 50 pitches on the lower part of the buttress, intertwining short rocky outcrops on easy snow slopes. On the third pitch the route narrowed up into a proper arete, with views down into deep gullies on either side. Here the fins of rock after which the route is named rear up in front of you, giving a short but extremely exposed mixed pitch. It was a precarious position to be in with the wind gusting as it was.

Pitch 1

Pitch 3

Tom climbing the fins

From the top of the third pitch it was only a short scramble to the top, and into the gale force winds that we had been (relatively) sheltered from all day. This was not the place to hang around, so we coiled the ropes quickly and high tailed it out of there, dropping back into the corie 20 minutes later.

 

 

Since day light was now fading, we took a directly line back to the path up, which probably didn’t save us any time, as we ended up wading in chest deep snow and catching our crampons on hidden rocks. Thoroughly exhausted, we reached the car park at 6pm, and retired to the Clachaig Inn for a well earned refreshments.

Instead, after seeing a number of Mercians off on their way home a group of us went on a stroll up to Inchree Falls.  It was still cold and damp weather wise but we did see a brief glimpse of the sun. 

After our soaking we retreated to the pub in Onich where we encountered a couple of waifs and strays.  In order to escape the attentions of Mr Boom (he’s from the Moon don’t you know?) we took ourselves into the games’ room where we were forced to play pool and giant Connect Four.  We forgot to take the muzzle though and we nearly got booted out for a certain member’s use of bad language in front on small children.  Suffice to say, her New Year’s resolution is to swear less. I’ve got a fiver on it not even lasting until tomorrow.

Having had enough of the bad weather, some of us decided to guarantee we had a dry day by heading over to the Ice Factor, in Kinlochleven, to climb.  Two different groups went and so I got to spend a very happy five hours there although I was forced to sit through two lunches which was, in my opinion, a waste of valuable climbing time.  

Back at the hut the food was being prepared for the evening’s feast and we were treated to a four course Mexican meal.  The chefs did a great job catering for the 20+ guests and became more and more creative with their presentation as the evening wore on and the wine started flowing.

More guests arrived brining with them four massive ice cream tubs full of shell fish.  Not what we’d been expecting as an offering but well received nonetheless. Apparently it then meant that my first words of 2012 were: “I can’t believe we’ve got so much fish!”  Not sure if that’s as lucky as white rabbits so I’ll have to wait and see what the year brings.

Following dinner there was, what is now becoming, the traditional quiz and then the champagne popping and Auld Lang Syne singing bad enough to win X Factor!

After more chat and drinking it was time to retire to bed and hope for better weather the next morning. 

Corbetteer tried to get up Tom Mheadhoin and Beinn Na  Gacaig but didn’t get up either because of the miserable weather and solid rain.

The only expedition which was successful was that of the party who ventured to Fort William and managed to accomplish buying fresh fish for the pie that evening.