AB and JM got a number of good routes ticked off and Muffin had another go at leading.  Mind you, he also managed to get himself stuck like a cat on a wardrobe when the tried bouldering and had to enlist the help of Riggers to get back down!  What was even more embarrassing was when the guy behind him skipped down it without even stopping to think.  Maybe we’ve finally found something that he isn’t naturally good at.

It was a beautiful day up on the Roaches save for the bitterly cold wind and although I didn’t get any climbing done it was still great to be up there.  Let’s see if the Gower can provide us with sunshine and no wind so that I can actually get some more climbs done.  Fingers crossed.     

Last bank holiday saw the hardy souls in the club head up to Bala despite the rather dodgy weather forecast.  Some members (*cough* CJ, Sarah and Ben) decided it was going to be too chilly and chose to stay home instead.  Little did they realise how nice the weather would actually be and that the extra bodily warmth would have been much appreciated by some. (Muffin and HD in particular were looking for a ‘Gayza’ strip to provide a non-male heat source in their tent.)

Saturday saw us heading up Aran Fawdwwy in a walk that involved nearly as much time spent stationary as we were walking!  Although as SH pointed out, “It’s not faff as we aren’t actually doing anything.” Fair point and I guess I should be grateful that his plans for the weekend included more standing around chatting than mammoth route marches like last time.  

On route we had to rescue some sheep that had got stuck in a cattle grid and CB only just yanked one poor little lamb out in time before it wriggled through the bars entirely.  Luckily, they seemed uninjured and went gambolling back up the field.

Saturday’s bbq was pretty much meat, meat and more meat.  As usual, every man had to take his turn at playing with fire and they even let JM be an token male for the night. (Insert suitable joke regarding the lesbian tent here.)

Sunday morning arrived without the promised rain so we headed over to Machnylleth to do some biking.  Turns out we made the right choice as while we were out they had rain and hail back at the campsite.  Having failed to pick up a map of the route (the bike shop was shut on the very day the town had been swamped by bikers going to do the Enduro race!) we had to do our own navigation.  (For that read, “there was a lot more faff”.)  It ended up with the lead group leaving trail markers for the second group so that we didn’t get lost.

Muffin, who had only learnt to ride a bike about a month previously and hadn’t been out on one since then, managed the 22km route seemingly without any effort.  Mind you, he did fall asleep in the car on the way back so we’d managed to finally tire him out.

Sunday night saw more meat being consumed: this time at the Eagles pub in the village.

The weather finally caught up with us on Monday and we awoke to the sound of pouring rain and howling winds.  The lads valiantly rushed out to rescue the party tent when it blew away (well, you can’t expect the ladies to go careering around in their pyjamas after tents in the pouring rain) and that was the cue for everyone to start packing up and heading home.

A leisurely drive back was sound tracked with Radio Cymru and broken up by lunch at the Windmill pub.

All in all it had been an unexpectedly good meet given the unfavourable weather we’d been predicted.  Now we just need it to get warm enough to get some climbing in.

The plan for a ‘fun’ bike day (as opposed to the usual ‘terrifying hurtling down hill’ bike days we seem to have been doing recently) where we’d get to go on the unicycle and backward steering bike.  The highlight was to be teaching  Muffin to ride a bike as, having reached the grand old age of 25 and never having learnt, we thought it was time he gave it a go.

Knowing what I’d been like at Appletreewick last year, when the lads had to teach me to ride as I’d not been on a bike since my Raleigh Tommahawk aged about 7, I was sure it would provide hours of entertainment as we’d have to push him along and act as stabilisers.

Hours did I say?  We didn’t even get a minutes worth of entertainment from it.  The clever sod scooted on it for about 5 feet and then just put feet to pedals and disappeared off down the road!  He didn’t fall off once!  Where’s the fun in that?

So, the challenge has now been set to give Muffin a new challenge each month and see what else he can take to like a duck to water.  (The already mastered ice climbing on his first outing earlier this year and now he’s got biking under his belt.)  Any ideas gratefully accepted.  (The biggest challenge we seem to have been able to come up with so far is getting him to visit a National Trust property.  He seems to feel that visiting them with drain all his youth away and leave him a shrivelled husk of a man reading Saga magazine and smelling of wee and biscuits.  So, not far from his current state of being anyway. )

Seeing as how we didn’t get the entertainment of watching Muffin fail we had to come up with some alternatives to keep us amused.  A speed race and snail race both proved I have very limited skills on a bike and the game of bike polo put the nail in the coffin.  Mind you, it was very intimidating having Huw bearing down on you at speed on a tandem when you are trying to concentrate of balancing on the bike whilst kicking a football.  (Biking and football: two sports I’m both equally useless at so I never stood a chance really.)  It pretty much ended up as a two horse race with the rest of us watching from the sideline but it provided us with a giggle and meant we’d burnt enough calories to deserve tea and cake at the cafe.

Whilst sat outside eating, we also got to enjoy the rather macabre re-enactment of the sinking of the Titanic on the boating lake using a cardboard Titanic and polystyrene iceberg.  It was one of the more surreal sights I’ve seen recently.

Let me have your ideas for ‘Challenge Tom’ and we’ll see if we can find something he doesn’t seem to be, annoyingly, naturally talented at.

“Let’s get up at 5am and do a 30 km round of Beinn A’Bhuird!” said Simon to the idiots. “Splendid” replied the idiots, “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do”.

5am of Saturday 7 April rolled around and the full extent of our folly was revealed.  Despite loud protestations at being conscious at such a Godforsaken hour we (Tom, Simon, Vicky, Paul and Jodie) did manage to make an early start and were on the hill by 7.20 am.   1.5 hrs on the flat was followed by a moderate ascent which was followed by some slightly less moderate ascent.  I did manage to catch a glimpse of a white mountain hare though which I was quite excited about!  The weather was mostly mild although I was a bit worried by this giant yellow ball in the sky that appeared briefly. No idea what it was and I haven’t seen it since. A snow flurry just as I’d decided to take my waterproofs off was obviously very welcome. Unfortunately, my hopes for a 2 metre dump so we could go skiing at Glenshee weren’t to be realised.

The mountain became unexpectedly wintery as we neared the summit although crampons weren’t necessary and we were wading through knee deep powder on the top. Whilst the summit plateau itself was covered in clag and snow we did manage to get some fine views on the ascent and descent without getting even a bit lost.

This was my first time walking in Scotland with Beinn A’Bhuird being my first Munro and the highest up I’ve ever been under my own steam!  A great introduction I feel and I certainly can’t wait to get stuck into some more Scottish walking/climbing this year.

The descent seemed a lot longer than the ascent but was alleviated by some snowball fights, comedy pratfalls and some choice comments ‘This snow must have loads of water in it’ (P Rigby esq).  Although my offer of a game of ‘how many times can I jump on this cornice’ on the summit plateau was met with a resounding no (spoilsports!).

After a 9.5hr day with 33.52 km walking and 1197m of ascent everyone was extremely glad to see the car and I was even more glad to see the pub in Braemar.

All told a fantastic day out with some great views and superlative walking.  No clothing was harmed during the making of the walk which is a winter personal best!

The next day saw Simon, Vicky, Rachel and myself set out to Moulin to tackle Ben Vrackie, a Corbett at 841m suggested by Murray.  A slightly more civilised start time was allowed for and we began walking at the crack of noon.  A very pleasant walk followed with some cracking vistas.  This mountain was a lot more popular than the once yesterday and I did feel we were a bit overdressed when I saw people in jeans and converse!

From the summit we had some fantastic views stretching on for miles.  There was a lot less clag on the top than the day before and I had a very pleasant 15 minutes waiting for  certain gaggle of faffers! A couple of very welcome pints in the Moulin inn followed and we wandered back to the hut eminently satisfied with the day’s work.

The hut we stayed at (Blackwater Outdoor Centre) was designed more for school trips than climbing clubs and was duly massive.  We were rattling around in there slightly although this was more than made up for by the fact we had our own rooms and some extremely (some would say too!) comfy and warm beds.  Aside from Vicky’s curry, I rustled up a chorizo and prawn jambalaya whilst Murray provided enough chilli to power an army.

A great weekend, bookended by slightly soul destroying drives (the m6 on a bank holiday Monday *shudder*) for which my great thanks go to Simon and Vicky for ferrying me about whilst i got my snooze on in the back.  One more hut meet to go then back to camping and some sunshine!

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.