New base in Lochaber for February

This winter has been anything but settled, in fact here on Arran it's felt at times that its not really got going.  Just as the engine starts to rev, it stalls.

Wally and I are shifting our base up to Lochaber for February.  This doesn't mean that we are not available to lead winter walking days out on Arran, but as winter is a bit transient down here we've got a better chance of seeing some good conditions further north.

Last Tuesday we headed up to our new base on the shores of Loch Eil, and on Wednesday enjoyed a superb day out on Mullach nan Coirean, an often overlooked munro on the Mamores ridge.

It was a belter of a day, after weeks of gales the brisk wind felt like a summer breeze- and the sun even shone for some of the time.

I'm back on Arran this weekend for a mountain rescue exercise but will be heading northwards again to enjoy what looks like is going to be a cold settle spell.

New Year Three Beinns

We started 2016 with a hill day and headed up to Coire Bhradain and the Three Beinns. The weather was brisk- cold and breezy with icy paths and a dusting of snow.

Festive Beinn Damh

Last post of the year from me, and it's a bit late as I'm updating with some pictures from Beinn Damh on Christmas Eve.  Wally and I spent Christmas in Torridon with our friend Hazel.  The weather was wild and daylight didn't put in much of an appearance, but we snuck a day out between the teeth of the storms and were rewarded with what are currently feel like fleeting wintry conditions and magic views.

Views of Beinn Alligin and Liatach

The craggy flanks of Beinn Damh

Wally looking festively snowy!

As I write this we are in the closing hours of 2015. It's been a spectacular year for us, with Wally joining the business, work for me in Malawi and hundreds of memorable hill days. We'd like to take this opportunity to thank our clients and colleagues for making our jobs so much fun and to wish you all a joyful and mountain filled 2016. Happy Hogmanay!

The Castle

A slightly late post- (blame- computer malfunction) with some photos of Sunday's stomp up on to Caisteal Abhail, one of my favourite peaks on Arran (they might all be my favourites actually).

The north ridge

I'm bumping along with an annoying shoulder injury at the moment so we kept it easy on the upper body and stayed away from the amazing mountaineering on the Sleeping Warrior. It's possible to summit without too much scrambling by climbing the North Ridge and descending the curving arc of Sail an Im.

Cir Mhor and A'Chir

NE face of Cir Mhor

Winter is here!

There was a bit of respite from the recent stormy weather today.  Goatfell had a good covering of snow overnight so it was a good opportunity to head up in to Coire Lan to enjoy the fresh snow.

Once up on the ridge it was pretty wild, with spindrift flying about. The path under the buttresses was passable but required a fair bit of route finding.

Happy Lucy

Stacach ridge looking Alpine

Surprise rain/snowbow

First Snows

This title is all wrong of course, because Goatfell has been looking wintry for at least a week, but these are my first snows, and I've been enjoying them since the recent "Weather Bomb" storm abated.

This was Goatfell yesterday.  The wild spindrift was fun, I'd forgotten what a proper winter maelstrom feels like.  We didn't go to the top, because near the summit buttress it quickly turned less fun...

Today I was on my own and after a late start wandered in to Glen Rosa and up to The Saddle. The weather seemed comparatively quiet, and I enjoyed watching the Sea King from HMS Gannet training in the Glen. She attracted the attention of a Golden Eagle, and to my surprise, the eagle chased her over Goatfell and out of its territory.

HMS Gannet training in Glen Rosa

From The Saddle, I took the new path up to the summit of Cir Mhor (I think). The path was mostly buried, especially near the top so I ended up taking the turfiest line I could find between the drifts and the slabs. The snow was very fluffy and unconsolidated, and by the time I passed behind the Rosetta Stone I was wading above the knee. I did get some stunning views and for a change it was not too windy so I could enjoy playing with my new camera.... If anyone is wondering whether there is any winter climbing to be had one Arran I'd say... not yet.  Lots of powder, and turf frozen where exposed, but soft under all that snow, with no ice to be seen.

The Witches Step as seen from The Saddle

Big views down Glen Sannox

Gully behind the Rosetta Stone

The Western Hills from the west flank of Cir Mhor

Looking back towards Goatfell

Tracks left by one badass bunny rabbit on the summit.

Goatfell after the Storm: The Evidence of Things Unseen

Its been quite a week, between the weather, international and personal events it's all felt a bit monumental. I found myself in a pensive mood on Friday morning after a hectic couple of days on the mainland and as I arrived on Arran, decided I needed a some Lucy time to get my feet back on the ground. My favourite mountain fix is a round of Coire Lan, with the summit of Goatfell at its highest point. On this occasion I decided to walk up from Corrie, and return via the Brodick path, taking in the Stacach Ridge on the way. 

Setting out on the Corrie path- Goatfell just visible.

The sky was grey but the peaks were clear of cloud as I set off. The dusting of snow and the early winter colours gave the light a beautiful sepia glow. It wasn't long before I was crunching through snow and ice on the steep track in to Coire Lan.  I could feel the temperature rising as I climbed, and soon the ridges were disappearing in to a soft mist. 

Coire Lan with Goatfell on the skyline.

There was plenty of evidence of wildlife, with marks everywhere in the snow from the previous night's activity.  I found the prints of a mink running up the track for a 100m or so.  This is an invasive species that has had a devastating affect on Arran's ground nesting birds.  It used to be seen often all over the island, but is now a rare sight, pushed in to an ever tighter niche by the apparent increase in otters.  The fresh tracks proof however that this fierce member of the weasel family survives on Arran.

Mink tracks in the snow.

Tracks of a small bird, my instinct says wren, but the book says wren tracks are symmetrical (?)

Field vole tracks, complete with vole holes.

I dawdled for quite a while in Coire Lan, distracted from my walk with so much to look at.  Eventually I found myself on the long pull up on to the bealach between North Goatfell and Mullach Buidhe.  My intention had been to traverse the ridge with a direct route over the top of the tors, as from a distance the rock looked snow free.  However, on close inspection, and after a futile 20 minutes of tip toeing down the slabs off the back of North Goatfell, I decided to retreat and take the lower path.  The rocks were indeed mostly snow free, but a thin veneer of ice made the going very slow,  and really there was too much ice to proceed without crampons, but not enough for crampons to be fun. I stayed bare booted and took the traverse path below the buttresses.  Even here I cut steps in a couple of places, before rejoining the ridge beyond the difficulties.

View in to Glen Sannox from the bealach.

Mullach Buidhe living up to its name of "Yellow Hill" even in the mist and light snow.

Wobbly icicles blowing in an imaginary wind are signs of the storm of the previous day.

By the time I made it to the summit of Goatfell, it was snowing gently and there was absolutely no view whatsoever.  I'm lucky as I've been up there so often I can sense it even without seeing it- but there is a little plaque on the summit pointing out the bits you can't see if the mist is down when you arrive.

Goatfell Summit

Descending the main path back to Brodick, the snow got deeper, and was lying in little drifts on the path where it had blown in the previous day.  I cannot imagine the wind speeds up there yesterday- they measured gusts of over 100mph in Saltcoats just across the water.  The snow up here looked like little round balls of polystyrene called graupel- rimed up snowflakes that fall to earth from turbulent air masses. This stuff forms persistent weak layers of ball-bearing like material that if buried and can cause avalanches.  Thankfully a mega thaw set in today so I imagine it has all gone by now.

Graupel- rimed up snowflakes

WH Murray wrote of the "evidence of things not seen" in the mountains, this gave him faith in a world filled with pain.  For me, the stories that the rocks and the snow tell about the world give me similar comfort, if not evidence of a divine presence, at least a connection to something much bigger than the bewildering lives of human beings.

Snowy fun on Aonach Mor

We headed up to Aonach Mor via the gondola at Nevis Range on the 22nd to play in the snow. This was an intentionally easy day, to look at ice axe arrest, snow belays and the snowpack in general.  We encountered soft powder, very unstable windslab, and iron hard neve. We chose the neve to slide on, which was fast and bruising at first, and then funny, as the runs became slower and slower the more we slid. The windslab was classic hard slab,  overlying a couple of softer layers with clear and easy failures (you only had to look at it really and it slid). Finally, we built a shovel-up in the powder- a good diversion and kept us warm whilst building it.

Isolated block of windslab that slid on a soft fluffy underlying layer with minimal tickling.

 

 A pair of the local ptarmigan feeding and displaying to one another. 

Finished shovel up, bijou, but room for two if they are friends.

Stob Coire Nan Lochan, Glencoe

The countdown to my Winter ML assessment is on, and although I don't want to say too much about it at this stage, you can look forward to a frank post mortem after the event. However, regular readers this winter will have spotted  in my blog some references to QMDs (Quality Mountain Days), insane night nav missions, persistence in digging bucket seats on easy ground, tying the rope around my waist, and not climbing anything harder than grade 1 for the entire season. Its been a frustrating winter, and I'm pretty anxious about it all, as better leaders than me have not passed first time, but I've worked hard at my prep and now I must wait to get the dreaded thing over with.
Yesterday was my last chance to practice my skills among friends, and my mate Hazel kindly agreed to play at being my client for the day.  We met in Glencoe the night before, planning an early start to try and beat an impending thaw and associated weather. The early start paid off, and when we arrived at the base of Broad Gully, Stob Coire nan Lochan, the ground was still frozen and the winds light.

 Stob Coire nan Lochan first thing. Broad Gully is the shallow rightward slanting gully between the black summit buttresses and the small triangular buttress (Dorsal Arete).

The snow conditions seemed pretty good at this point, although there was a thin layer of poorly bonded fluffy stuff that was overlying old hard neve, it wasn't deep and could easily be kicked through.  We hoped to top out before the thaw, and associated wet snow instabilities predicted by the SAIS.

We had cracking views across Glencoe to the Aonach Eagach and even the summit of Ben Nevis was out of the cloud for a bit

We roped up at the base and proceeded to pitch the gully old school style. The old snow was rock hard and digging buckets was warm work.  Hazel had a wee go as well and lead her first winter pitch (nice one!). We made slower progress than I'd hoped however, and the weather began to appear. Higher up the gully, fresh snow and spindrift were blowing in.  I had a brown trousers moment at one point when I looked around me to see rivers of loose snow literally flowing past me on either side down the gully. Fortunately, it was only a small section of the gully that was in this poor state and I took a good spike belay on the side of Dorsal, brought Hazel up, and found that not far above the snow condition improved with little of the loose stuff to bother us. 

Hazel having fun in Broad Gully

We topped out as the weather deteriorated and the snow turned to rain.  It wasn't as windy as predicted, but a few ferocious gusts warned us to hurry up and descend. Once down in the shelter of the coire again it was possible to relax and take a leisurely walk out. 

Big changes happening in the mild misty rain when we returned to the coire, fresh snow was melting and older snow turning to soup.

There were a few parties about as well as ours, doing winter skills courses and digging industriously in the rain.  I hope the weather improves for them this week (and stacks up some nice conditions for me next week...).

Winter Holiday Part 4: Aonach Mor Learning Curve

Its the final installment of the trip and Wally and I were "starting" to feel more than a little tired.  I work in the hills, and am used to getting out there day after day but in winter the physical commitment required hits a whole new level and I'm filled with admiration for the MICs and Guides who keep at it in all sorts of weather and still enthuse and inspire their clients.
To keep it gentle on our tired legs we headed up to Aonach Mor via the Gondola on the 12th.  I've climbed a bit on the wild West Face of the hill, but I've never been all the way round to the East Face and looked at the climbs in Coire an Lochain. Of course, this year I'm laying off the climbing to concentrate on my winter walking, but the centre of the face is split by Easy Gully, a grade 1, and perfect ground for practicing emergency winter ML rope work in a realistic situation.

Traversing under the climbs in Coire an Lochain, Aonach Mor. 

Looking up Easy Gully. The cornice had a decent sized slot just to the left of the buttress.

 Looking down Easy Gully, a dense mist rolled around the coire all day and occasionally spilled on to the plateau. 

On the plateau in the mist.  We lingered for a while and looked at snow belays such as buried axes and stompers. 

 Unfortunately while were were on the plateau, we became aware of a drama unfolding in the coire below as a climber had fallen. A Sea King helicopter was in and out of the area several times, with some impressive flying in the swirling mist. The man was airlifted to hospital. I'm happy to say that although he was seriously injured, we've since learned from the UK Climbing Forums that he will be ok.

A magical brockenspectre forming on the mist.

The follwing day, with legs like lead, but knowing that we had not spent enough time looking at snow anchors we decided to head back to Aonach Mor.  Strong winds were forecast, so  we planned a quick foray in to the Nid area, and then a trip back down on the gondola in time for lunch.

Snow snow snow....

 Wedged in my bucket.

We managed a quite few pitches up the Nid before we got a bit fed up with the snow plodding, untied and walked back to the gondola station. It wasn't long before we'd talked ourselves in to heading home to Arran that afternoon.  All in all a worthwhile little trip.