#13: Ledge Route

We all self-identify as something... have an idea of ourselves that is partly based on ego, and partly on the tribe in which we feel most comfortable.  I like to think of myself as someone who does a spot of winter climbing, (we even honeymooned in Rjukan) but this has in recent years been a proper fib.  For various reasons- ranging from recovery from an op, to lack of opportunity, to a bit of feartieness, I've not been out on a real route for what seems like ages. This winter is looking like it is going the same way, but I did manage to snatch a near perfect day on Ben Nevis last week, and in doing so met the criteria for number 13- to go winter climbing... sort of...!

 
With reports of stunning conditions in the classic gullies, Wally was keen to jump on to some steep ground, but I was very reticent, with no idea as to how it would feel to be that far out on a limb again, so he agreed to take a look at Ledge Route, a friendly and satisfyingly long II and the easiest of the Great Ridges. We were partly inspired by Rob Johnson's gorgeous drone footage taken the week before.  If you haven't seen it, it's a must-watch. 

I've only done Ledge Route once before- it was my first at that grade, and I recall we roped up and moved together on it, nervously, in driech weather, and popped out of an inversion to a heavenly world above. I remember it clearly because an RAF Tornado flew by,  and dipped it's wings has it passed. This time, the rope stayed in the bag, but we did gear up in case we encountered anything untoward.  No need- the snow was perfect, soft enough to kick in, but firm and reliable for axe placements. It felt easy, if exposed, more grade 1.5 than 2, and I'm reluctant to count it as a winter climb... these things are all relative I guess, and winter has many faces. No matter, it was a magic route, I was happy to be reminded of its quality- which is superb for the grade, and there were smiles all round at the top.

Ben Nevis Weekend

This weekend I was working for Walkabout Scotland in Lochaber, with a guided Ben Nevis day on Saturday, followed by a blissful leg-stretcher in Glen Nevis before heading south on Sunday.

The hoards in the mist on the summit.

There were the usual shenanigans on The Ben,  with poor visibility, jeans and plimsolls, rhinoceros outfits and even a brass band (see BBC report here). If you've not climbed it before and are thinking about it, don't be lured in to a false sense of security by the zillions of under equipped folk that climb it with you.  I'm constantly amazed and relieved that the majority of people make it down tired but happy without calling on the Lochaber MRT volunteers for help. Its a dangerous mountain, and should be treated with respect.

As we descended, the mist lifted and gave us a great view to the south west.

Sunday's walk up Glen Nevis was a stunner.  We started from the lower falls carpark and took the path on the south side of the glen, joining the road for a short section.

Glen Nevis

The highlight of the walk is the lovely Steall Meadow and enormous waterfall that dominates the upper glen beyond the Steall Gorge. 

Entering the Steall Meadow with the main falls beyond.

Gardyloo (oooooooh) Gully

I'm playing catch up a bit with this post and probably the next couple as I've not been in to update as much as I would like. On Monday last we were heading in to Ben Nevis on a rumour that there may still be some wintry stuff to be found high up. What followed was a classic Ben spring day, with plenty of helpings of fun (good), falling ice (bad), and a lovely late finish in daylight (just).

Looking up in to Coire na Ciste from the CIC hut. Already roasting hot. 

We headed up in to Observatory Gully for a look at Gardyloo.  There were a few parties about, including teams on Tower Scoop which looked really thin, and lots of activity on the great ridges.

Observatory Gully, leading to Gardyloo on the left, and Tower Gully on the right.  The thin dribble of ice down and right of Tower Gully is tower scoop.

The initial pitches of Gardyloo were straightforward grade 1 on good snow. However, two pitches in, a party abseiled in to the top of the gully above us, and proceded to lead some necky and fragile grade V ice on the left wall.  It made entertaining and impressive viewing, which was a good thing, as it pinned us down for some time, hiding from the large lumps that were hurtling in to the gully regularly.  In the end we had to wait for them to finish as it was nuts to proceed into the shooting alley while they were on it.No matter, it was a gorgeous day, with plenty of daylight, and the best climbing for us was still to come. 

Gardyloo chockstone tunnel pitch. 

The penultimate pitch of Gardyloo has a big chockstone, which often has an icy tunnel behind it, which is how we found it.  It was the strangest ice climbing I have ever done, and I found the bridging both funny and hard work, as I tried not to get flushed down the U Bend. 

Yep, I'm giggling. 

From the tunnel, it wasn't far to the top, and a mellow bask in warm sunshine surrounded by walkers in shorts and T shirts.  From there, we prolonged the day a bit by heading back down over the Carn Mor Dearg Arete, in a leisurely fashion, and lingered to enjoy a magnificent sunset  just before we dropped below the treeline above the North Face Carpark. 

The CMD Arete was bare of snow. 

A magic end to a magic day.

Walking on the Wild Side: Michael's Deaf Blind Challenge

Those readers that follow me on Twitter will be aware that I have recently been involved as part of the support team for Michael Anderson, a Deafblind man who climbed Ben Nevis on the 21st of July.  I wrote a couple of articles for the Voice for Arran before and after the event.  They are reproduced below: 

Part 1: The Preparation

Michael Anderson likes a challenge but his goal of climbing Ben Nevis for his 70th birthday is going to be a mighty test of his stamina and determination. Michael is both deaf and blind and hopes to climb the highest mountain in Britain to raise money for DeafBlind Scotland, a charity which supports and campaigns on behalf of people with dual sensory impairment, a complex disability that can be incredibly isolating.  Michael hopes to raise money towards a Training and Resources Centre that will support people with deafblindness, their families and guides/communicators.

I agreed to get involved with Michael’s challenge long before I met him.  As soon as I heard about his plans to climb Ben Nevis I wanted to help if I could and put myself forward as a member of his support team. However, it was not until a grey midgey morning on the shores of Loch Lomond in June that I finally met Michael, his daughter Fiona and her partner Nina. Michael is a gentle man with a soft voice. His kind exterior belies a man with a core of steel. Meeting him for the first time, for a training day on Ben Lomond, I wondered what on earth I could offer Michael and his support team. My knowledge of the mountain is one thing, but my experience in guiding deafblind people and the additional challenges we might face was at that point non existent.

On the Summit of Ben Lomond with Michael Anderson

At first I walked alongside Fiona and Nina and watched how they patiently guided him along the early sections of the path. I wondered at how, taking Fiona’s arm, Michael intuitively followed and copied her motion, gauging the size of steps and unevenness of the ground by feel.  Michael wears a hearing aid, and the two women loudly described the footpath before us.  Suddenly Michael stopped.  “We are in woodland?” We tried to explain how green corridors of oaks and birch surrounded us.  “May I touch a tree?” Michael asked.  Carefully we led him over to an ancient and gnarled trunk.  “Ah yes,” Michael smiled “An oak”.  Later he would identify a fallen birch by the feel of the papery bark under his fingertips.

Michael’s sense of direction is better than that of most sighted people, as is his balance, despite his damaged hearing. He has Usher’s syndrome, and has had a hearing impairment all his life; his sight has deteriorated slowly since he was a boy, and at the age of 33 he was registered blind.  He recalls climbing a mountain with his brother as a child and the wonderful emotions that awoke in him: “it was an amazing, uplifting sensation, both in what one has achieved and what we could see.  That was my first ever climb and I believed a seed was sown”

As a younger man, Michael enjoyed walking in the hills around his Berwickshire home and he is still exceptionally fit and active despite his disability.

For me to get a handle on how best to guide Michael and become part of his team, it was time to experience a glimpse of his world.  Approaching a rocky section of the path, I closed my eyes and took Fiona’s arm. I felt a huge leap of faith at this moment, and suddenly the act of climbing a mountain was condensed into each tentative step. Simple descriptive commands work best and though to the guide this can seem incredibly repetitive, it is vital information.  “Step up and over, left a bit, forwards, rock in path”. This steady flow of information is the guidee’s lifeline to progress. Fiona and Nina are very skilled at this, but as we approached complicated sections of path I could see the concern etched on their faces. 

Taking a turn at Michael’s side was nerve wracking initially, but his kind manner and careful concentration soon helped me to relax. Michael has an iron will and even though it was clear that he was weary, he never complained and continued to smile graciously. We left the treeline, and climbed up in to the grey clouds. He was keen to learn when the mist closed in.  We described the views, and how they faded from sight. He sensed the cold wind, and the brightening of the sky as we approached the summit.  Standing at the trig point taking photos, Fiona and Nina had tears in their eyes, but Michael’s face was a picture of pure joy.

Wise people say that when you reach the summit of a mountain you are only half way there, and for Michael this is more than true.  Each step is placed with equal care in ascent and descent, and as fatigue set in, the reality of the challenge dawned on us. Progress was slow, and through the stony sections painstaking. Ben Lomond is a lighter shade of Munro than Ben Nevis, which standing at 1344m is a worthy challenge for any hill walker. The Ben Nevis path is rough and rocky, and the weather on the hill often violently nasty.  We expect to be on the hill for at least eighteen hours, and will have to carry additional food, water and equipment.  Walking back through the woodland on the banks of Loch Lomond, I felt humbled by the immense challenge ahead for Michael, and honoured to be part of making it possible.

Part 2: Ben Nevis.

It was never going to be easy, but climbing Ben Nevis was a huge challenge for Michael Anderson and his support team because not only is he deaf and blind, but at 70, no spring chicken either. Michael was raising money for Deafblind Scotland, a charity that supports people with dual sensory impairment.  As part of his team I was able to take part in one of the most satisfying challenges of my life, and although it was hard for everyone involved, not least of all Michael, the whole experience was a huge adventure that forged new friendships.

We met at 4.30am at the visitors centre at the foot of Ben Nevis. The team comprised Michael, his daughter Fiona and her partner fun loving Nina, a cheerful young woman called Meg, George- an experienced mountain walker, Phil- a gear freak and walking guidebook writer, and finally, myself.

We set off in the early morning gloom grateful for evenness of the initial sections of the path. Michael set a cracking pace for his guides, and not even a peculiar design of stile (hard to describe to a blind man at 5am) slowed him down much. Optimism set in and as the sun rose and we were joined by other walkers on the track, the plan started to look distinctly feasible. By mid morning, Michael was striding out confidently alongside the “Halfway Lochain”. 

“Its in the bag” we thought….

The section of path above the half way lochain is very rocky. Loose boulders of considerable size litter the path despite recent work by the Ben Nevis Partnership. As we wove in and out of the obstacles in our way, progress ground to a standstill. Putting one foot in front of the other, we zig zagged our way up the shoulder of the mountain. I could see that this was taking its toll on Michael and the team and I began to seriously worry whether we would have enough energy left in hand to descend this sort of terrain.  I called a meeting and expressed my concerns.  Anxious that Michael was concealing his physical state from the team I asked him to level with us. Normally a quiet and polite man, he looked uncomfortable. Eventually he spoke: “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, “I feel we are going too slow. I can go faster; I don’t need to go round everything!” 

Relieved, we pressed on, and the pace quickened. The support from other walkers on the mountain was fantastic. Phil was also sending out live updates to the internet via a satellite beacon that logged our exact position online. We felt as if the whole world was rooting for us to succeed.

We were joined by Jim, an elderly gentleman who was walking alone and looking for company. As we neared the summit, to my horror Jim took a turn for the worse and collapsed cold and insensible. Concerned that he was hypothermic, we wrapped him in warm layers and gave him sugary food. He perked up a little with some Kendal mint cake, but was hazy and incoherent. He looked in a bad way, but knowing that calling a rescue immediately would guarantee Jim could become seriously cold and ill in the long wait for help, trying to get him moving seemed like a good idea. George and Meg volunteered to descend a little with him.  I suggested that if he showed no sign of improvement in 10 minutes, they call the emergency services. In the event, Jim was able to walk off under his own steam after being fed and watered extensively.  It later emerged that he was diabetic and had not eaten sufficiently for the ascent. I believe he owes his life to George and Meg. 

On the Summit of the Ben!

Meanwhile, Michael was nearing the summit of Ben Nevis.  The final undulating plateau seemed to drag on interminably, but eventually at around 1pm the ruins of the observatory loomed in to view through the cloud. It was an emotional moment, with photos and phone calls home. We were even treated to a view, as the mist parted to briefly reveal the magnificent North Face of the mountain.

The descent was as hard as we knew it would be. Every single one of us was feeling the pain as the afternoon wore on in to evening. Michael seemed to have more energy than the rest of us put together.  At dusk, the midges descended hungrily.  We couldn’t escape them so plodded on regardless. Eventually, at half past ten, we crossed the bridge in to the visitors centre car park. For me this was a wonderful moment, tinged with relief and a huge sense of achievement. Michael had climbed Ben Nevis, and in doing so, had become the first fully blind and deaf man to stand on Britain’s highest mountain. 

Congratulations to Michael, and a huge well done to the entire team.  I’m looking forward to walking with you all again and eagerly waiting to hear what Michael’s next challenge will be!

To find out more about the work of Deafblind Scotland and the many other fundraising events they organise visit the website: http://www.deafblindscotland.org.uk/

You can support his incredible effort by donating to Deafblind Scotland on Justgiving.com: http://www.justgiving.com/teams/deafblindclimb

Teaching Winter Skills Workshop

They say every day is a school day, but last weekend it was definitely back to school for me as I was on a Teaching Winter Skills workshop in Fort William.   The training process that mountain leaders go through is structured to ensure that skills and experience are steadily built up before a leader becomes qualified.  As a Summer Mountain Leader, I have attained a level of competence required to lead in the uk mountains in summer.  However, although I absolutely love being out in the winter hills, preparing for my winter ML assessment is not a walk in the park,  as the standard required is understandably high. The Mountain Leader Training Association offers CPD courses for aspirant Winter MLs, to help us hone and perfect these techniques, with a view to assessment, or for qualified leaders to keep their skills current. This does not replace the initial training programme that we must all undergo- as these courses are entirely optional. 

Obviously the winter environment is very different form the summer one.  For novice clients, there will be a ruck of new skills to learn, and teaching this in a fun and non-threatening way is part of the skills of a good leader. On day 1 of the course we headed up on to Aonach Mor with instructor Tim Blakemore of Northern Mountain Sport to look at ways that we can safely and effectively pass on skills of movement, step cutting and sliding.  

That evening, we had a chat in the classroom about avalanche avoidance- essential! Tim told us about how new research is showing that not only is it important to understand the causes of avalanches, but that we should also be aware of how poor decision making and heuristic traps lead novices and trained experts alike in to avalanche zones.

On the second day, we were treated to a fantastic mountain journey on Ben Nevis.  This was the first time that I have begun the normally tedious approach to the Ben from the locked forestry car park- the advantages of being with a guide! Within no time we were sat in the CIC hut having a cup of tea, before heading up in to Coire na Ciste. After a quick look at snow conditions, we climbed Number Three gully. Most of us took the easy exit left, but we took advantage of the opportunity to build snow anchors and bring up some folk via a much steeper corniced exit on the right. 

After this, a quick bit of navigation in the mist (above) brought us to the top of Number Four Gully. Here we built more anchors, and lowered/abseiled in to the top of the gully. 

 

The top was pretty steep, but in these good snow conditions, it was possible to walk down unroped back to Coire na Ciste where a speedy bumslide brought us back to our morning's tracks. 

Thanks Wally, for taking these brilliant photos, and big thanks to Tim and the other guys on the course for a great and informative weekend.

Why I love working on Ben Nevis

As a summer ML I have a  lot of varied work. However, taking clients up Ben Nevis has been a recurring theme over the last couple of years, particularly working for Macs Adventure. I always get asked how many times I have climbed Britain's highest mountain, and I honestly don't know the answer.  Not because I have lost count, but because I have never begun to count.
 "The Ben",  as climbers like to refer to it, has many faces.  There is the magnificent North Face, accessible from the Allt a Mhuilinn path, which is the domain of roped climbers both in winter and summer. There is the Carn Mor Dearg Arete, a hanging curtain of rock that frames the Allt a Mhuilinn approach and is a huge day out for experienced hill walkers and winter mountaineers.
However, most people first climb it via what used to be known as the Tourist Route.  In recent years the name has changed (I think the latest version is "The Ben Path"), but the experience is the same- a broad and often crowded motorway that climbs relentlessly from glen to summit. Experienced Scottish hill walkers love to deride this route.  It's a slog.  It's boring.  It's very very busy.
In winter, even this path is a serious undertaking, with the average year round summit temperature below freezing, the upper plateau is almost always encased in snow, ice and mist. In summer there are still hazards a plenty on this route, with cliffs and gullies to the north and south of the path, snow filled couloirs and cornices lasting until late June, and the temperature at the top usually a good 10 degrees colder than in the glen below. Nevertheless, if you climbed it on a typical Saturday in the summer holidays, it would feel more like Blackpool Pier than a remote Scottish Munro (complete with wind, rain and fog).  The wildlife has long fled in terror, the path is littered with bannana skins (and worse), and most of the people you meet have never climbed a mountain before.
So why do I enjoy working there so much?
The people that walk up Ben Nevis with me are a mixed bunch. Many have set themselves a personal challenge. Some approach the climb with little experience and a great deal of trepidation. Others already enjoy hill walking but like the banter of walking with a group. For a large proportion, it is likely that this is their first visit to Scotland. We advise everyone that although the safety and logistics will all be taken care of for them, a certain amount of physical preparation is essential.  If they have never climbed a mountain in Scotland before, nothing will prepare them for how cold it will feel at the top. For most, the walk is well within their capabilities, very rarely is someone so unprepared that they won't get to the top.  The descent is also exhausting, and it often takes just as long to get down as to go up.  The knees take a battering, the rocky steps are relentless. It is very common for apparently fit and healthy people to exclaim that they never imagined how hard and physically challenging the day would be.  What is remarkable, and wonderful, is that for these same people, they also could not imagine being able to push themselves so hard, and achieving so much- the climb exceeds their expectations in more ways than one.  I always get an immense amount of job satisfaction from helping someone to test what they thought were their physical limits, and discover that they can go so much further.  I imagine (I may be wrong), that when they return back to their real worlds, they continue to explore the boundaries of what is possible. In a way this inspires me to push myself harder too.

Here are my top 5 tips for a summer ascent of Ben Nevis via the Ben Path for the novice hill walker:

1. As well as waterproofs etc, take a hat and gloves, even in July.  Its nobbling on top most days.
2. Apple cores,orange peel and banana skins take years to rot on cold mountainsides and even when they do they damage special soils. Take them home.
3. There may be snow on the top, don't walk on the snow lined cliff edge and across the tops of gullies.  You may be walking on thin air. People have died doing this.
4. If it is not a busy day, you may need a map and compass to navigate off the top.  Do you know how to do this?
5. Trekking poles will help your knees on the way down.

Calm Before the Storm.......

 Above: The comb and No3 Gully in Coire na Ciste on Ben Nevis

I had a meeting in Oban on Tuesday so Wally and I snuck off to the mainland on Sunday night and headed up to Fort William.  A favourable weather forecast meant that the lure of Ben Nevis was hard to resist.  I haven't climbed on there yet this winter and it always takes a bit of psyching up as the place is just so incredibly huge.

Above:both ends of Tower Ridge- not possible to put in to one shot!

We walked in planning to do No2 Gully Buttress but on the way up were diverted by a line up Central Gully on Trident Buttress, which has an optional finish on the ridge of the buttress.  We had recently read about this on UKC courtesy of Mike Pescod so thought we would give it a go. Another party had had the same idea and were on the first pitch when we arrived.

Below: Central Gully with Trident Buttress finish on the left skyline. 

We took up a stance at the bottom but the sun on the ice and rocks above plus the activity of this party (of 3) meant that we were subjected to a hail of blocks of ice, stones and spindrift.  After a coule of sizeable blows it became too much and we legged it further up in to Coire na Ciste- the huge coire between Tower Ridge and Number 5 Gully. Traversing under The Comb we soon arrived at the start of No 2 gully Buttress (III).  Took a belay at the bottom of the gully in a rock cave under an amazing ice sculpture.

Below: Amazing umbrella of ice at the bottom of No2 Gully with No2 Gully Buttress flanking the left hand side of the gully.

Unfortunately I took no photos on the route (I forgot- concentrating....) but it was great fun. I've not led III before so was happy to let Wally take the sharp end and even more happy when it emerged that there was no gear to be found.  The ice was very poor (full of pockets and air), and the rock was buried.  He got 8 runners on 5 pitches (and 4 of these were on one pitch). Nails.
We got to the top after a fantastic day that was everything that a day on the Ben should be: challenging, tough, fun and long!
Woke up the next day to blizzards and gales- we were lucky to get the day out that we did.  Ended up stuck on the mainland for an extra night as no ferries were running and the roads were pretty dodgy in all the snow.  Kipped at Hazels (thanks for great hospitality as always H) near Lochgilpead and finally made it home this afternoon. Phew. By the sounds of things we were lucky as others traveling in the wild weather have had some epic journeys.

West Coast Holiday Snaps

I recently returned from a great 10 days on the West Coast climbing, scrambling and sea kayaking with my husband Wally. Below are a selection of snaps from the trip.

Wally on D Gully Buttress, Buchaille Etive Mor.

On Castle Ridge, Ben Nevis


The Forcan Ridge, Glen Shiel


Paddling out of Glenbrittle with the Cuillins behind. Had great views of Golden Eagles on this journey.


We stayed at Camasunary Bothy.



Sea Stack, off Soay in the Soay Sound.


The Cuillin Ridge Looking South from Bruach Na Frithe, Skye



Fairy Pools, Skye