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The lack of snow is getting me all nostalgic! What routes or experiences really stand out for you on the venomous one, Mine have included burning off Francois Damilano on a solo* setting off on my first V, Smiths route after an really early start to beat Bonington and filmcrew, only to see them abseil down in front of us after a helicopter ride! an impromptu solo of Astral Highway after Fcuking George had become a casualty of the Alt Mhullin bogs, this was quite a deep experience, virgin conditions and a few heart in mouth placements in the soft rime.
Please share youre experiences.
*maybe not the whole story
Please share youre experiences.
*maybe not the whole story
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In reply to
This is another good one......Arrived at the bottom of Astronomy with John the Bastard* to find Paul Moores, belayed by Joe brown on the first pitch of Minus one buttress (they had also arrived by helicopter, something to do with Joes bad knee's) . We did Astronomy, big runouts and no gear, descended NEB all in about 3 1/2hrs to bump into Joe and Paul again below NEB, in the time we had climbed the route and descended they had faffed about on the first pitch then called it a day.
It was the look on thier faces, priceless... who are these young punks.
*a nickname he had for being so lovely
This is another good one......Arrived at the bottom of Astronomy with John the Bastard* to find Paul Moores, belayed by Joe brown on the first pitch of Minus one buttress (they had also arrived by helicopter, something to do with Joes bad knee's) . We did Astronomy, big runouts and no gear, descended NEB all in about 3 1/2hrs to bump into Joe and Paul again below NEB, in the time we had climbed the route and descended they had faffed about on the first pitch then called it a day.
It was the look on thier faces, priceless... who are these young punks.
*a nickname he had for being so lovely
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Being out of my depth on the last pitch of Slab and Rib Variation, 15m above a bulldog in a typical Minus Face flared seam that I wouldn't have hung my bag off and realising I definitely wasn't on a grade IV anymore.
Total fear as I inched my way upwards until I reached an okay nut and then eventually the First Platform on NE Buttress, not really knowing what I'd put myself through or where I'd really gone or where the actual route actually goes (I suppose they didn't call it Variation for nothing?).
Then going down the avalanche prone approach ledge to NE Buttress in the dark and having to do a lot of traversing, descending and two full length abseils before finally making it back to the ground, very relieved but absolutely buzzing and grinning ear to ear.
Well worth seeking out if anyone is looking for a less traveled and quiet day this winter...
Being out of my depth on the last pitch of Slab and Rib Variation, 15m above a bulldog in a typical Minus Face flared seam that I wouldn't have hung my bag off and realising I definitely wasn't on a grade IV anymore.
Total fear as I inched my way upwards until I reached an okay nut and then eventually the First Platform on NE Buttress, not really knowing what I'd put myself through or where I'd really gone or where the actual route actually goes (I suppose they didn't call it Variation for nothing?).
Then going down the avalanche prone approach ledge to NE Buttress in the dark and having to do a lot of traversing, descending and two full length abseils before finally making it back to the ground, very relieved but absolutely buzzing and grinning ear to ear.
Well worth seeking out if anyone is looking for a less traveled and quiet day this winter...
3
In reply to Nath93:
To go off on a tangent, one of my favourite tales from this era is the guy who went up to solo Minus one gully then fell out of his leashes on the crux overhang, dusted himself off and returned to the Fort, then back the following day with a pair of hire axes to finish it off and retrieve his tools!
Followed a close second by the two climbers who arrived at Nevisport just before closing, still roped up in full climbing gear having just got off the hill, then proceded to walk around the shop..all very monty pythonesque.
To go off on a tangent, one of my favourite tales from this era is the guy who went up to solo Minus one gully then fell out of his leashes on the crux overhang, dusted himself off and returned to the Fort, then back the following day with a pair of hire axes to finish it off and retrieve his tools!
Followed a close second by the two climbers who arrived at Nevisport just before closing, still roped up in full climbing gear having just got off the hill, then proceded to walk around the shop..all very monty pythonesque.
Post edited at 15:39
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Can't imagine soloing Minus 1 Gully never mind falling off it then going back again the next day, some people have just got the head for it though I suppose!
Haha as someone who used to work in Nevisport in Fort William, I'd quite liked to have seen something like that!
Can't imagine soloing Minus 1 Gully never mind falling off it then going back again the next day, some people have just got the head for it though I suppose!
Haha as someone who used to work in Nevisport in Fort William, I'd quite liked to have seen something like that!
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Soloing Nordwand after work one evening. Perfect moonlit conditions, hero axe placements all the way.
Ran down the NE flank of Carn Dearg on perfect snow with just enough softness to cushion each step.
Happily crossing the Allt a Mhullin only to step on a verglas'd rock and backflip into a pool of icy water and get completely soaked!
Had to run to my car at the distillery at high speed to stop from freezing to death... joy
Soloing Nordwand after work one evening. Perfect moonlit conditions, hero axe placements all the way.
Ran down the NE flank of Carn Dearg on perfect snow with just enough softness to cushion each step.
Happily crossing the Allt a Mhullin only to step on a verglas'd rock and backflip into a pool of icy water and get completely soaked!
Had to run to my car at the distillery at high speed to stop from freezing to death... joy
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In reply to creag:
Creag just beautiful, great to see the tradition ongoing, no doubt you were massively influenced by Johns night time antics. You have probably heard this tale.
John went up one night and soloed the Orion direct, this inspired me to follow in his footsteps the following night, the guys at the CIC were a bit bemused to see me outside the hut around ten, did i know the guy who had been up the previous evening, i did... a solo of the orion was a local tradition, the men of the town had to proove themselves with feats.....moving delicatley across the wall of the second slab rib, i looked down and saw lights around the hut, know doubt wondering whether i might fall, i really had an mischevious urge to drop my headtorch at this point,, the climb went well and i topped out around twelve, this is the first and last time i have done this.
Creag just beautiful, great to see the tradition ongoing, no doubt you were massively influenced by Johns night time antics. You have probably heard this tale.
John went up one night and soloed the Orion direct, this inspired me to follow in his footsteps the following night, the guys at the CIC were a bit bemused to see me outside the hut around ten, did i know the guy who had been up the previous evening, i did... a solo of the orion was a local tradition, the men of the town had to proove themselves with feats.....moving delicatley across the wall of the second slab rib, i looked down and saw lights around the hut, know doubt wondering whether i might fall, i really had an mischevious urge to drop my headtorch at this point,, the climb went well and i topped out around twelve, this is the first and last time i have done this.
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Being based at Loch Eil OB for a couple of months during which time the South African climber Andy de Klerk was working as storeman. He'd hand out gear every morning, dead on the dot of idiot o'clock or something. It wasn't till about a week later we found out that he'd been on the Ben a couple of mornings of that week and soloed something - Slav Route was one - and been back in time to open the stores.
With this in mind, Malc Campbell and me set off one 'morning' under a full moon to do Astral Highway. As we passed into the moonshadow of Carn Dearg buttress we both inexplicably shivered! We completed the route, placing, if I remember correctly, one piece of gear apart from belays (that'd be me, Malc was made of sterner (stupider) stuff). Alone on the summit in the sunshine for breakfast, then running down number something gully and meeting one by one all our mates toiling up the Ben track, every one of which said something like 'changed yer minds, lads...? Shame, it's going to be a grand day...' We just smiled...
Being based at Loch Eil OB for a couple of months during which time the South African climber Andy de Klerk was working as storeman. He'd hand out gear every morning, dead on the dot of idiot o'clock or something. It wasn't till about a week later we found out that he'd been on the Ben a couple of mornings of that week and soloed something - Slav Route was one - and been back in time to open the stores.
With this in mind, Malc Campbell and me set off one 'morning' under a full moon to do Astral Highway. As we passed into the moonshadow of Carn Dearg buttress we both inexplicably shivered! We completed the route, placing, if I remember correctly, one piece of gear apart from belays (that'd be me, Malc was made of sterner (stupider) stuff). Alone on the summit in the sunshine for breakfast, then running down number something gully and meeting one by one all our mates toiling up the Ben track, every one of which said something like 'changed yer minds, lads...? Shame, it's going to be a grand day...' We just smiled...
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In reply to jon:
Brilliant! i had the pleasure of soloing Zero with Andy de Klerk, his breakfast routine was custard creams and black coffee, a proper line bandit.. he walked up to the hut in trainers!
Brilliant! i had the pleasure of soloing Zero with Andy de Klerk, his breakfast routine was custard creams and black coffee, a proper line bandit.. he walked up to the hut in trainers!
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
We had been drinking in the bar of the Nevis Bank my two friends and I and laying plans for tomorrows sorti on the Ben. Conditions looked settled, things were in good nick and we were willing to make sacrifices - we would leave the bar before it shut and have a good nights sleep. As I parted from my friends to head up the road (I stayed in the Fort at the time) the merest flicker of doubt entered my mind, other friends from the Fort were still drinking in the lounge bar and my two friends would have to walk past it on their way to the van where they were dossing.
` You will go straight to the van and not sneak into the lounge`, I said. Oh yes ,you can rely on us !, they said.
Early next morning a mate from the Fort and I arrived at the car park where the boys were dossing - no sign of life. I opened the van`s door. The ******** had sneaked into the lounge- they were still drunk. While they were disadvantaged I helped myself to some gear that I thought we might need and told them we would see them at the CIC.
My friend in the van and I had done Astronomy in summer which was ok but we knew it would be a better winter route and peering up at it from the CIC that day it was obvious it was in good nick, so off we went with that in mind. We were well established on the route when I heard the voices of my two friends from the van drifting up from the mists below, evidently they were doing a route nearby.
Conditions were excellent and the climbing varied and interesting. Near the top where the route descends into the chimney of Minus One Gully, we cut right and finished up some steep ice filled grooves.
On the buttress crest ,through the mist and gloom we could just hear our two friends, they had just finished Left Hand Route and were going to descend North East Buttress and drop into Coire Leis. Being higher up we resigned ourselves to the harder and longer finish up NEB.
The wearisome plod down the Allt a` Mhuilinn was made worse by the mental picture of my two friends sitting in the Nevis Bank supping their pints at a nice liesurely pace. We splashed on through the bog. At last we reached the car park - we could yet make it back before closing time! But what was this! We looked at each other in amazement - the red van - they were still on the hill. Oh how I laughed! The pints flowed freely, Black Eyed Biddy were playing that night, we exited about midnight, still no sign of the boys, oh how I laughed!
In the morning we checked the car park, the boys had returned at about two o clock, `Got lost in the snow`, they said. Oh how I laughed!
We had been drinking in the bar of the Nevis Bank my two friends and I and laying plans for tomorrows sorti on the Ben. Conditions looked settled, things were in good nick and we were willing to make sacrifices - we would leave the bar before it shut and have a good nights sleep. As I parted from my friends to head up the road (I stayed in the Fort at the time) the merest flicker of doubt entered my mind, other friends from the Fort were still drinking in the lounge bar and my two friends would have to walk past it on their way to the van where they were dossing.
` You will go straight to the van and not sneak into the lounge`, I said. Oh yes ,you can rely on us !, they said.
Early next morning a mate from the Fort and I arrived at the car park where the boys were dossing - no sign of life. I opened the van`s door. The ******** had sneaked into the lounge- they were still drunk. While they were disadvantaged I helped myself to some gear that I thought we might need and told them we would see them at the CIC.
My friend in the van and I had done Astronomy in summer which was ok but we knew it would be a better winter route and peering up at it from the CIC that day it was obvious it was in good nick, so off we went with that in mind. We were well established on the route when I heard the voices of my two friends from the van drifting up from the mists below, evidently they were doing a route nearby.
Conditions were excellent and the climbing varied and interesting. Near the top where the route descends into the chimney of Minus One Gully, we cut right and finished up some steep ice filled grooves.
On the buttress crest ,through the mist and gloom we could just hear our two friends, they had just finished Left Hand Route and were going to descend North East Buttress and drop into Coire Leis. Being higher up we resigned ourselves to the harder and longer finish up NEB.
The wearisome plod down the Allt a` Mhuilinn was made worse by the mental picture of my two friends sitting in the Nevis Bank supping their pints at a nice liesurely pace. We splashed on through the bog. At last we reached the car park - we could yet make it back before closing time! But what was this! We looked at each other in amazement - the red van - they were still on the hill. Oh how I laughed! The pints flowed freely, Black Eyed Biddy were playing that night, we exited about midnight, still no sign of the boys, oh how I laughed!
In the morning we checked the car park, the boys had returned at about two o clock, `Got lost in the snow`, they said. Oh how I laughed!
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In reply to Removed Usernileferd:
Astronomy is a great route, we also just stuck to the line following the upper grooves, with a good plating of ice it seemed the obvious way to go.
Astronomy is a great route, we also just stuck to the line following the upper grooves, with a good plating of ice it seemed the obvious way to go.
Post edited at 11:55
In reply to Andrew Holden:
Glad you are enjoying it, the more contributions the better, my list of tales is endless!
The interview
My mate really wanted to do Point five before returning home the next day, a right of passage, the only problem.. i had a job interview that day at 1pm, so me being me, i agreed.
We had a great morning, Lee was over the moon to tick the classic ice gully, i made a mad dash for the Fort arriving for my interview still in my climbing garb in the nick of time... so where were you this morning? oh we just made a quick ascent of Point five....this seemed to impress as he was a climber... luckily i got the job.
Glad you are enjoying it, the more contributions the better, my list of tales is endless!
The interview
My mate really wanted to do Point five before returning home the next day, a right of passage, the only problem.. i had a job interview that day at 1pm, so me being me, i agreed.
We had a great morning, Lee was over the moon to tick the classic ice gully, i made a mad dash for the Fort arriving for my interview still in my climbing garb in the nick of time... so where were you this morning? oh we just made a quick ascent of Point five....this seemed to impress as he was a climber... luckily i got the job.
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Haha, yeah Andy... Yours and John's antics on the Ben would be a worth book alone!
Did John not take a back flip off the cascades in Coire na Ciste and pretty much crawl all the way down with 2 badly damage ankles? Maybe its just an urban myth of the Legend that was John Main!
Haha, yeah Andy... Yours and John's antics on the Ben would be a worth book alone!
Did John not take a back flip off the cascades in Coire na Ciste and pretty much crawl all the way down with 2 badly damage ankles? Maybe its just an urban myth of the Legend that was John Main!
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Doing Zero and Point Five in a day was very good, as was a slightly masochistic day soloing Curtain and Hadrians Wall in typically unpleasant Ben weather accompanied by a never ending tsunami of spindrift.
But one of the most enjoyable, was setting off early from the distillary on a crisp January morning under clear blue skies, soloing Tower Ridge and then coming back down via Carn Dearg Arete. Back down to the car, drive back to Glencoe, and then after several bevies in the Clachaig, a nightime traverse of Aonach Eagach under a big moon. A very full, but very very lovely day indeed.
Doing Zero and Point Five in a day was very good, as was a slightly masochistic day soloing Curtain and Hadrians Wall in typically unpleasant Ben weather accompanied by a never ending tsunami of spindrift.
But one of the most enjoyable, was setting off early from the distillary on a crisp January morning under clear blue skies, soloing Tower Ridge and then coming back down via Carn Dearg Arete. Back down to the car, drive back to Glencoe, and then after several bevies in the Clachaig, a nightime traverse of Aonach Eagach under a big moon. A very full, but very very lovely day indeed.
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In reply to Goucho:
Glad to see you are not holding any grudges aftert my jest on the integral! ever since Ian Nicholson soloed them in a morning back in the seventies it really has become a bit of a benchmark.
Glad to see you are not holding any grudges aftert my jest on the integral! ever since Ian Nicholson soloed them in a morning back in the seventies it really has become a bit of a benchmark.
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Of course not
They are great routes - especially if you catch them in great nick, and get on them before the crowds.
> Glad to see you are not holding any grudges aftert my jest on the integral! ever since Ian Nicholson soloed them in a morning back in the seventies it really has become a bit of a benchmark.
Of course not
They are great routes - especially if you catch them in great nick, and get on them before the crowds.
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Finishing up tower ridge following the crew filming for the BBC series the Edge.
A stunning (but slow) day. 1995?
Finishing up tower ridge following the crew filming for the BBC series the Edge.
A stunning (but slow) day. 1995?
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Yes, a complete monster! This could be an interesting read: http://www.climbing.co.za/2010/08/sharper-edges-by-andy-de-klerk/
Great to see him in the video on that link.
> Brilliant! i had the pleasure of soloing Zero with Andy de Klerk, his breakfast routine was custard creams and black coffee, a proper line bandit.. he walked up to the hut in trainers!
Yes, a complete monster! This could be an interesting read: http://www.climbing.co.za/2010/08/sharper-edges-by-andy-de-klerk/
Great to see him in the video on that link.
Post edited at 17:04
1
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
> ....moving delicatley across the wall of the second slab rib, i looked down and saw lights around the hut, know doubt wondering whether i might fall, i really had an mischevious urge to drop my headtorch at this point,
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In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Great thread.
I remember Mal Duff and Rick Nowack (he of naked Elliot's Downfall fame) being blown down the bottom of NE buttress and Rick getting severely banged up including, iirc, a broken arm, and his lid looked like it had been run over. Mal carried/dragged him to the CIC, no mean feat as Rick was a big man, and the wind was so bad is was unzipping Mal's jacket and filling it with snow. Mal said it was probably the worst and most dangerous conditions he'd ever endured, and he sewed a toggle on his jacket to stop the wind unzipping it again. Rick got out of hospital about a week later and was determined he was going to blag a 1st class seat on the flight back to the USA as one entire side of his face was a giant scab and he reckoned this plus the bloody stookie on his arm would frighten children (he wasn't exactly an oil painting to start with).
What became of effing George? Last seen in a Kingshouse rammy in the early-mid 90s.
Great thread.
I remember Mal Duff and Rick Nowack (he of naked Elliot's Downfall fame) being blown down the bottom of NE buttress and Rick getting severely banged up including, iirc, a broken arm, and his lid looked like it had been run over. Mal carried/dragged him to the CIC, no mean feat as Rick was a big man, and the wind was so bad is was unzipping Mal's jacket and filling it with snow. Mal said it was probably the worst and most dangerous conditions he'd ever endured, and he sewed a toggle on his jacket to stop the wind unzipping it again. Rick got out of hospital about a week later and was determined he was going to blag a 1st class seat on the flight back to the USA as one entire side of his face was a giant scab and he reckoned this plus the bloody stookie on his arm would frighten children (he wasn't exactly an oil painting to start with).
What became of effing George? Last seen in a Kingshouse rammy in the early-mid 90s.
4
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
A great weekend in the early Eighties, started with a hitch hike to the Buchaille. My Aberdonian partner was fresh from a FWA of a summer E1 on Lochnagar. Needless to say he backed off a Glencoe V.Diff. "Feck this loon. Fas ga tae the Ben." Not before we snuck up a winter ascent of something else on the Buchaille.
Hitched to the Fort. Hiked up to the CIC hut. "Aye we ken Robin, we're okay for a doss, cheers."
After 15 minutes of listening to Tony, Nigel & assembled company talking about a stonking belay on the Orion Face and playing checkers.
"Eh, any you guys fancy a wee trip down to the Fort for chips and beer?"
If you had farted in church you would never have got looks like that.
"Aw, come on, its only 8 o'clock and the pubs are open til one in the morning!"
Another stony silence broken only by Nigel shifting a checkers player.
"Okay, whatever, but if you fancy a carry oot, give me your orders, please."
Tony, shifting a solitary £1 note across, "Get me a tin of what do you Scottish call it . . . "Special", please?"
"Oany wan, ur yuz observing Lent or summat."
Off we set to the Fort, carry oot bought, many pints, some dodgy dancing, some patter with some scary burds and too late for chips. Off back up the Allt na Muihlinn.
"Hello, boys, how's it going!"
"Shoosh, they're awa asleep."
Next morning, "Tony here's your can of Special. Why only the one?"
"Because I never believed you guys"
A great weekend in the early Eighties, started with a hitch hike to the Buchaille. My Aberdonian partner was fresh from a FWA of a summer E1 on Lochnagar. Needless to say he backed off a Glencoe V.Diff. "Feck this loon. Fas ga tae the Ben." Not before we snuck up a winter ascent of something else on the Buchaille.
Hitched to the Fort. Hiked up to the CIC hut. "Aye we ken Robin, we're okay for a doss, cheers."
After 15 minutes of listening to Tony, Nigel & assembled company talking about a stonking belay on the Orion Face and playing checkers.
"Eh, any you guys fancy a wee trip down to the Fort for chips and beer?"
If you had farted in church you would never have got looks like that.
"Aw, come on, its only 8 o'clock and the pubs are open til one in the morning!"
Another stony silence broken only by Nigel shifting a checkers player.
"Okay, whatever, but if you fancy a carry oot, give me your orders, please."
Tony, shifting a solitary £1 note across, "Get me a tin of what do you Scottish call it . . . "Special", please?"
"Oany wan, ur yuz observing Lent or summat."
Off we set to the Fort, carry oot bought, many pints, some dodgy dancing, some patter with some scary burds and too late for chips. Off back up the Allt na Muihlinn.
"Hello, boys, how's it going!"
"Shoosh, they're awa asleep."
Next morning, "Tony here's your can of Special. Why only the one?"
"Because I never believed you guys"
Post edited at 21:26
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In reply to Removed User:
Weird timing, I’m working on a blog about Mull that mentions George!
He phoned me sometime, maybe in 2003. I knew immediately who it was but he started with “You’ll not remember me…”
He had climbed some new routes and wanted to know where to send them. I told him to send them to Andy and he said is he still at Graigie Avenue?
See Lowland Outcrops guide 2004 quarries p 430.
I asked Garth about him last winter, he said he had been asking ‘others' without any success.
> What became of effing George? Last seen in a Kingshouse rammy in the early-mid 90s.
Weird timing, I’m working on a blog about Mull that mentions George!
He phoned me sometime, maybe in 2003. I knew immediately who it was but he started with “You’ll not remember me…”
He had climbed some new routes and wanted to know where to send them. I told him to send them to Andy and he said is he still at Graigie Avenue?
See Lowland Outcrops guide 2004 quarries p 430.
I asked Garth about him last winter, he said he had been asking ‘others' without any success.
1
1
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
The Line Bandit
Standing below Observatory buttress.. i gazed up towards pointless, the line of ice glazed slabs and corners, it looked like it was in, a climber aproached it was Dave on a solo mission like myself, he too eyed up Pointless, not for the solo, even the most feared line Bandit in the land had his limitations, perhaps later in the week.. i would be back i told him, he was heading south and anyway his partner had gone home, but what a prize, we departed the Bandit for Minus one gully and me the Point, Astral had been a blast.
With to good an oportunity to miss,. i was back the very next day, with John the thin ice climbing terminator.
There was someone on the first pitch surely not Dave? he didn't have a partner, by the time we got to the bottom they were a couple of pitches up, John led the first delicate slab, which gave me the corner with a thin weld of ice down the back, this flowed by in a blur with a poor peg , a relic from the past, after a bulging chimney John caught up with the party above, it was The Line bandit! with a second he had found in the bar in the Clachaig, Dave had checked his credentials he had just soloed the Orion direct so was the perfect candidate for some serious fun! the second told us with his eyes on stalks, how this was in a totaly different league.... we sniggered.
We didn't see the line Bandit again that season, he was off to the alps..
The Line Bandit
Standing below Observatory buttress.. i gazed up towards pointless, the line of ice glazed slabs and corners, it looked like it was in, a climber aproached it was Dave on a solo mission like myself, he too eyed up Pointless, not for the solo, even the most feared line Bandit in the land had his limitations, perhaps later in the week.. i would be back i told him, he was heading south and anyway his partner had gone home, but what a prize, we departed the Bandit for Minus one gully and me the Point, Astral had been a blast.
With to good an oportunity to miss,. i was back the very next day, with John the thin ice climbing terminator.
There was someone on the first pitch surely not Dave? he didn't have a partner, by the time we got to the bottom they were a couple of pitches up, John led the first delicate slab, which gave me the corner with a thin weld of ice down the back, this flowed by in a blur with a poor peg , a relic from the past, after a bulging chimney John caught up with the party above, it was The Line bandit! with a second he had found in the bar in the Clachaig, Dave had checked his credentials he had just soloed the Orion direct so was the perfect candidate for some serious fun! the second told us with his eyes on stalks, how this was in a totaly different league.... we sniggered.
We didn't see the line Bandit again that season, he was off to the alps..
2
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Dave was still a teenager, if not also Ian. Third ascent I think.
Dave was still a teenager, if not also Ian. Third ascent I think.
Post edited at 13:35
In reply to Turfty:
Beaten to the route by a spotty teenager? damn! thought he was more like early twenties like us... maybe he had a hard paper round!
That is possibly right we are credited with the fourth or something, the peg was Robin Clothiers from a previous attempt ( not with me).
Thanks all for the contributions so far, i hope my own input is not putting you all to sleep just trying to keep the thread going.
Beaten to the route by a spotty teenager? damn! thought he was more like early twenties like us... maybe he had a hard paper round!
That is possibly right we are credited with the fourth or something, the peg was Robin Clothiers from a previous attempt ( not with me).
Thanks all for the contributions so far, i hope my own input is not putting you all to sleep just trying to keep the thread going.
Post edited at 14:13
1
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Early 80's . On Left Hand Route. Up the lower half then shuffled right intae the narrow chimney near the top o' Minus Two. Came across a guy in the chimney, clad in a nice Goretex suit. So followed him - maybe a bad decision lookin back. The guy belays two thirds o' the way up the chimney wi me on his heels. Couldny work it oot as he had plenty rope tae exit the chimney. Anyhow, I said I wiz comin through and said ok in a grumpy kind o' way so I did. He got mad when I put ma front points throught his nice troosers as I was squeezin past so I went faster. Coiling ropes on the NEB when the guy comes up and wants a square go. Sounded interesting - a square go half way up the NEB. Ma mate wiz really into square go's so he stepped forward. He looked up for it and had starin eyes so the guy backed off and we went on oor way. Met the guy that night in the CIC. He wiz still mad. He said that he wiz challenging me tae a race up Tower Ridge in the mornin. I said fine. But he got wrecked on wine he'd lugged up and didny get oot o' his sac next mornin when I wiz at the Great Tower. Hope he had a wee patch fur his troosers in his sewin kit. Didny clap eyes on him again.
Early 80's . On Left Hand Route. Up the lower half then shuffled right intae the narrow chimney near the top o' Minus Two. Came across a guy in the chimney, clad in a nice Goretex suit. So followed him - maybe a bad decision lookin back. The guy belays two thirds o' the way up the chimney wi me on his heels. Couldny work it oot as he had plenty rope tae exit the chimney. Anyhow, I said I wiz comin through and said ok in a grumpy kind o' way so I did. He got mad when I put ma front points throught his nice troosers as I was squeezin past so I went faster. Coiling ropes on the NEB when the guy comes up and wants a square go. Sounded interesting - a square go half way up the NEB. Ma mate wiz really into square go's so he stepped forward. He looked up for it and had starin eyes so the guy backed off and we went on oor way. Met the guy that night in the CIC. He wiz still mad. He said that he wiz challenging me tae a race up Tower Ridge in the mornin. I said fine. But he got wrecked on wine he'd lugged up and didny get oot o' his sac next mornin when I wiz at the Great Tower. Hope he had a wee patch fur his troosers in his sewin kit. Didny clap eyes on him again.
10
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
A couple of years ago we were headed up the Ben to do Stringfellow which we had heard was a good route. We were going to approach it via Garadh Gully, a route I had been avoiding since the late seventies when I had had a bad scare over it. We soloed up it without incident and arrived at the bottom of our route. On the fourth and tricky pitch I was belaying and instictively ducked as something flew over my head, it turned out to be my mate´s camera and a hex. It had been perfect weather on the route but by the time we reached Tower Ridge it was well dark and on top of Great Tower it was blowing a hooley, at the gap we decided to abb down Glovers Chimney rather than battle across the plateau. After four full abseils we were down. A half hearted poke about at the bottom of Stringfellow found the hex but no sign of the camera.
After a rest day (age related) we were back up the Ben on Sunday. On Friday we had spotted that a couple of rarely formed ice routes were in, Pink Panther and Comb Gully Buttress Icefall Direct. So here we were again soloing up Garadh Gully for the second time in so many days. We dutifully peered into every crack and crevice that might have held my mate´s camera all the time thinking what a hopeless goose chase we were on. Well would you believe it but before exiting Garadh Gully there poking out of the snow was a length of familiar cord and at the end of it buried under the snow my mate´s camera, but more miraculously still working!
From the top of Garadh Gully we had a good view across to the ice lines we had seen and to approach them we would have to cross into No2 Gully. This would give us a chance to see what was going on at the bottom. Someone seemed to be messing about there. It was a bit of a pull to where the guy was and I arrived at the platform he had cut a bit out of puff. He had a camera set up on a tripod pointed up at Pink Panther where he informed me that Dave MacLeod and Natalie Berry were climbing. It was for a film that they would be showing at Kendal Film Festival later in the year. They had´nt quite started the first pitch and I wondered if we should race across and jump in first. I tried to explain to the cameraman that he would be better filming us as it would make for more entertainment than watching two professionals effortlessly cruise up some steep ice route. He declined our offer and we set our sites on the route on the other side of No 2 Gully. From our route we would be able to keep tabs on the ´´ A` team across from us. I doubted they would be watching us, unless they wanted a laugh.
On the crux ice pillar which was well protected with a couple of good ice screws my mate was having a real battle and came several times within a ba´s hair of coming off. Before he reached a belay one of the ropes jammed and I had to untie and faff about. At last he got belayed and it was my turn, I launched myself up and while scarting about on the thin bit, I noticed something flying through the air. My f****** camera, down into the depths of No 2 it plunged. Deja vu! As soon as I had finished the last pitch I untied and hared down No 2 (sort of). I quickly spotted my camera but I could hardly believe that I would be as lucky as my mate, but yes it was working, a testament to Olympus workmanship. As an added bonus just next to my camera directly under the fall line of Pink Panther was a brand new Grivel screw in. A sweet end to the day!
A couple of years ago we were headed up the Ben to do Stringfellow which we had heard was a good route. We were going to approach it via Garadh Gully, a route I had been avoiding since the late seventies when I had had a bad scare over it. We soloed up it without incident and arrived at the bottom of our route. On the fourth and tricky pitch I was belaying and instictively ducked as something flew over my head, it turned out to be my mate´s camera and a hex. It had been perfect weather on the route but by the time we reached Tower Ridge it was well dark and on top of Great Tower it was blowing a hooley, at the gap we decided to abb down Glovers Chimney rather than battle across the plateau. After four full abseils we were down. A half hearted poke about at the bottom of Stringfellow found the hex but no sign of the camera.
After a rest day (age related) we were back up the Ben on Sunday. On Friday we had spotted that a couple of rarely formed ice routes were in, Pink Panther and Comb Gully Buttress Icefall Direct. So here we were again soloing up Garadh Gully for the second time in so many days. We dutifully peered into every crack and crevice that might have held my mate´s camera all the time thinking what a hopeless goose chase we were on. Well would you believe it but before exiting Garadh Gully there poking out of the snow was a length of familiar cord and at the end of it buried under the snow my mate´s camera, but more miraculously still working!
From the top of Garadh Gully we had a good view across to the ice lines we had seen and to approach them we would have to cross into No2 Gully. This would give us a chance to see what was going on at the bottom. Someone seemed to be messing about there. It was a bit of a pull to where the guy was and I arrived at the platform he had cut a bit out of puff. He had a camera set up on a tripod pointed up at Pink Panther where he informed me that Dave MacLeod and Natalie Berry were climbing. It was for a film that they would be showing at Kendal Film Festival later in the year. They had´nt quite started the first pitch and I wondered if we should race across and jump in first. I tried to explain to the cameraman that he would be better filming us as it would make for more entertainment than watching two professionals effortlessly cruise up some steep ice route. He declined our offer and we set our sites on the route on the other side of No 2 Gully. From our route we would be able to keep tabs on the ´´ A` team across from us. I doubted they would be watching us, unless they wanted a laugh.
On the crux ice pillar which was well protected with a couple of good ice screws my mate was having a real battle and came several times within a ba´s hair of coming off. Before he reached a belay one of the ropes jammed and I had to untie and faff about. At last he got belayed and it was my turn, I launched myself up and while scarting about on the thin bit, I noticed something flying through the air. My f****** camera, down into the depths of No 2 it plunged. Deja vu! As soon as I had finished the last pitch I untied and hared down No 2 (sort of). I quickly spotted my camera but I could hardly believe that I would be as lucky as my mate, but yes it was working, a testament to Olympus workmanship. As an added bonus just next to my camera directly under the fall line of Pink Panther was a brand new Grivel screw in. A sweet end to the day!
15
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Early 80's as a young school boy I did "Central gully right hand version" We ran short of rope and the leader had to belay mid pitch. I struggled up with walking boots and crampons plus a daft interalp piton/ice hammer combination (Cheap). Half way up I heard a scream come from high on the buttress and drop far below me although there was no sign of anyone. Gripped already I was freaked out that I had just heard someone take a massive fall that was probably not survivable. My mate heard nothing which seemed strange but the weather probably had a factor and offered to continue the lead. Only after he left did I realise the belay was disintegrating and the ice screw I was just about to load could lift in and out with ease. I just about decided at that point my winter climbing was finished at that moment.
On top we investigated the possible accident and discovered an accident in South gully. The leader had run out about 100feet of rope with no runners and at some point decided it would be fun to clamber directly over the cornice. Boom 200 feet fall! He survived unhurt physically but his belayer was badly hurt with obvious arm injuries(Dislocated) and no feeling to legs. We got the leader up white as a sheet but didn't want to move the belayer. Some passing climbers offered to take him down and call MRT from the CIC radio set.
As time passed the weather began to get bad and I could no longer see below into the corrie. The old chopper (Wessex) I heard in the distance then thumped loudly in the corrie below but no sign. I had sorted out the ropes so I was free to move but no shelter was available due to solid ice just below the surface. As light was about to go there was a clearing in the cloud but no relentless in the winds but immediately the chopper hovering in the corrie made a quick move up the face. Due to inexperience I didn't realise until I could see the blades below coming close that this could be time to clip back in. My last sight was the blades passing the cornice and all hell braking loose. My JB helmet was gone for ever and I breathed aviation fuel fumes and spindrift for what seemed a lifetime. Nil visibility, unable to move and the noise was unbelievable. Only benefit I can recall was the air went warm probably due to the large exhaust pipe below the pilot but I had no idea what was happening.
Then it was gone!
I checked over the cornice and was thankful my mate and injured climber were still there and I wasn't left although the situation was getting desperate. As it turned out the pilot couldn't control it with side winds, updrafts & down drafts so had to abandon it and sit in the Fort carpark. I couldn't communicate with my mate and injured climber and it seemed it was everyone for them selves. I don't remember the gap in between but.
Alone in darkness and in horrendous weather I was rattling and giving up the fight to stop sleep and thought I seen lights. Then they were real! "are you the mountain rescue team" "Yes and Scotland lost" Three MRT had been plucked out the pub watching the rugby and deposited into the corrie below to make their own way up in case there was no weather window for the chopper. I asked "We need a stretcher as he cant feel his legs" "We don't have one and its a haul n go" In minutes we had a hand over hand pull which cheese wired the remaining cornice before hauling him right through it!
Down at the zig zags we set off a flare and the chopper took away my mate & injured climber. We waited and waited.
radio calls to fort bill station went unanswered. Then crackle "chopper coming". below the cloud now I watched far below the lights lift above Fort William then the spots light the hill. Another warm hand flare was set off and the beams homed in. Noisily the chopper got its front wheels down and running to the door I found I could just reach the door arms outstretched. I was grabbed up and thrown across the floor before a MRT member got me into a seat and buckled me.
Out of the helicopter covered in frost/ice in Fort William car park I was in a state of shock and started walking up the main street before a member of MRT grabbed me and took me into the police station. (I was 16 I didn't know protocol after an incident)
No one from the climbing club were at the police station and although we reached the pub they were in before closing time no one spoke to us about the incident. Only after did I find out that they were not pleased members had to be rescued! I have never climbed with a club again!
Early 80's as a young school boy I did "Central gully right hand version" We ran short of rope and the leader had to belay mid pitch. I struggled up with walking boots and crampons plus a daft interalp piton/ice hammer combination (Cheap). Half way up I heard a scream come from high on the buttress and drop far below me although there was no sign of anyone. Gripped already I was freaked out that I had just heard someone take a massive fall that was probably not survivable. My mate heard nothing which seemed strange but the weather probably had a factor and offered to continue the lead. Only after he left did I realise the belay was disintegrating and the ice screw I was just about to load could lift in and out with ease. I just about decided at that point my winter climbing was finished at that moment.
On top we investigated the possible accident and discovered an accident in South gully. The leader had run out about 100feet of rope with no runners and at some point decided it would be fun to clamber directly over the cornice. Boom 200 feet fall! He survived unhurt physically but his belayer was badly hurt with obvious arm injuries(Dislocated) and no feeling to legs. We got the leader up white as a sheet but didn't want to move the belayer. Some passing climbers offered to take him down and call MRT from the CIC radio set.
As time passed the weather began to get bad and I could no longer see below into the corrie. The old chopper (Wessex) I heard in the distance then thumped loudly in the corrie below but no sign. I had sorted out the ropes so I was free to move but no shelter was available due to solid ice just below the surface. As light was about to go there was a clearing in the cloud but no relentless in the winds but immediately the chopper hovering in the corrie made a quick move up the face. Due to inexperience I didn't realise until I could see the blades below coming close that this could be time to clip back in. My last sight was the blades passing the cornice and all hell braking loose. My JB helmet was gone for ever and I breathed aviation fuel fumes and spindrift for what seemed a lifetime. Nil visibility, unable to move and the noise was unbelievable. Only benefit I can recall was the air went warm probably due to the large exhaust pipe below the pilot but I had no idea what was happening.
Then it was gone!
I checked over the cornice and was thankful my mate and injured climber were still there and I wasn't left although the situation was getting desperate. As it turned out the pilot couldn't control it with side winds, updrafts & down drafts so had to abandon it and sit in the Fort carpark. I couldn't communicate with my mate and injured climber and it seemed it was everyone for them selves. I don't remember the gap in between but.
Alone in darkness and in horrendous weather I was rattling and giving up the fight to stop sleep and thought I seen lights. Then they were real! "are you the mountain rescue team" "Yes and Scotland lost" Three MRT had been plucked out the pub watching the rugby and deposited into the corrie below to make their own way up in case there was no weather window for the chopper. I asked "We need a stretcher as he cant feel his legs" "We don't have one and its a haul n go" In minutes we had a hand over hand pull which cheese wired the remaining cornice before hauling him right through it!
Down at the zig zags we set off a flare and the chopper took away my mate & injured climber. We waited and waited.
radio calls to fort bill station went unanswered. Then crackle "chopper coming". below the cloud now I watched far below the lights lift above Fort William then the spots light the hill. Another warm hand flare was set off and the beams homed in. Noisily the chopper got its front wheels down and running to the door I found I could just reach the door arms outstretched. I was grabbed up and thrown across the floor before a MRT member got me into a seat and buckled me.
Out of the helicopter covered in frost/ice in Fort William car park I was in a state of shock and started walking up the main street before a member of MRT grabbed me and took me into the police station. (I was 16 I didn't know protocol after an incident)
No one from the climbing club were at the police station and although we reached the pub they were in before closing time no one spoke to us about the incident. Only after did I find out that they were not pleased members had to be rescued! I have never climbed with a club again!
15
1
3
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
I went up to the Ben on a day of perfect conditions.
> *maybe not the whole story
I went up to the Ben on a day of perfect conditions.
6
In reply to Timmd:
Old school and the lads involved were part of the club although from Edinburgh university instead of from the West coast. In defence at the time they were a tough lot and the rescue was a major failing that brought dishonour to the club. I just felt afterwards it was easier to just go climbing with a two party.
Old school and the lads involved were part of the club although from Edinburgh university instead of from the West coast. In defence at the time they were a tough lot and the rescue was a major failing that brought dishonour to the club. I just felt afterwards it was easier to just go climbing with a two party.
In reply to fmck:
I'd have probably felt the same had similar happened in my teens - while with a bunch of older climbers.
I'd have probably felt the same had similar happened in my teens - while with a bunch of older climbers.
Post edited at 23:58
In reply to Andy Nisbet:
Ha ha Well not always, i chuckle thinking about Mega route X, it was so thin i put a wire in below the crux!
PS. You know we used a step ladder to climb the Shroud!!
Ha ha Well not always, i chuckle thinking about Mega route X, it was so thin i put a wire in below the crux!
PS. You know we used a step ladder to climb the Shroud!!
Post edited at 09:36
In reply to Removed User:
George’s tent at Kilt.
http://www.colinmoody.com/Site/Blank.html
That blog.
http://www.colinmoody.com/Site/Blog/Entries/2016/12/18_E8_on_Mull.html
Sorry to go off topic Andy!
> What became of effing George? Last seen in a Kingshouse rammy in the early-mid 90s.
George’s tent at Kilt.
http://www.colinmoody.com/Site/Blank.html
That blog.
http://www.colinmoody.com/Site/Blog/Entries/2016/12/18_E8_on_Mull.html
Sorry to go off topic Andy!
2
2
5
In reply to Colin Moody:
Thanks. That last paragraph of 'E6' is killer. Great tent photo too :oD
I didn't know GS apart from occasionally crossing paths in the early 90s, always a pleasure.
Thanks. That last paragraph of 'E6' is killer. Great tent photo too :oD
I didn't know GS apart from occasionally crossing paths in the early 90s, always a pleasure.
In reply to Colin Moody:
Regarding George and Cider, When he was living in Oink a team from Glasgow went for a weekend visit. After finishing climbing we fancied a pint so George suggested the Onich hotel unfortunately he was banned from it but as it had a beer garden we could sit at a distant table and he wouldn't be spotted.
I went to buy the round, George wanted a pint of "snake bite" (lager and cider). When I tried to order the "snake bite" the barman needed its recipe. Unfortunately a Glaswegian punter sitting at the bar informed the barman "Ye wud'nae sell that in Glesca, it sends them arf their hied's". The barman asked who the pint was for and then spotted George I was summarily banned on the spot and george doubly so.
Regarding George and Cider, When he was living in Oink a team from Glasgow went for a weekend visit. After finishing climbing we fancied a pint so George suggested the Onich hotel unfortunately he was banned from it but as it had a beer garden we could sit at a distant table and he wouldn't be spotted.
I went to buy the round, George wanted a pint of "snake bite" (lager and cider). When I tried to order the "snake bite" the barman needed its recipe. Unfortunately a Glaswegian punter sitting at the bar informed the barman "Ye wud'nae sell that in Glesca, it sends them arf their hied's". The barman asked who the pint was for and then spotted George I was summarily banned on the spot and george doubly so.
10
In reply to rka:
So many stories about George.
A lot of us were in the Nevis Bank one night, George was talking.
The couple in the corner should have said something earlier but let it build up then exploded.
He said “can you not manage one sentence without swearing.”
She added "we’ve been listening to it all night and we’ve had enough.”
George looked at them and said “lets sit with our arms folded and stare at the ceiling, that’s a great night.”
The manager asked us to leave.
So many stories about George.
A lot of us were in the Nevis Bank one night, George was talking.
The couple in the corner should have said something earlier but let it build up then exploded.
He said “can you not manage one sentence without swearing.”
She added "we’ve been listening to it all night and we’ve had enough.”
George looked at them and said “lets sit with our arms folded and stare at the ceiling, that’s a great night.”
The manager asked us to leave.
4
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Come on Fergal, let's have another one! Enjoyed the step ladder to reach The Shroud. If you can't buy it in a climbing shop, it's not aid.
Come on Fergal, let's have another one! Enjoyed the step ladder to reach The Shroud. If you can't buy it in a climbing shop, it's not aid.
1
In reply to Andy Clarke1965:
Fergal, thanks for setting this thread up. Seems most of the fun is around the Ben rather than the climbing itself - so here's another from the early eighties.
Doug and I managed to squeeze two berths in the CIC. In residence was a well known broadcaster. His appearances on TV usually took the form of said broadcaster standing on a prominent knoll dressed in kilt, Tam O' Shanter bunnet decked with tartan ribbon and two jauntly angled curled pheasant tail feathers. He would extol the virtues of the "Great Outdoors" in a booming voice that needed no artificial amplification even in the strongest gale.
An evening in said company in the confines of the CIC was too wearing. (So, Doug and I headed off down to the Fort for beer, dancing, chips & Burds - see previous tale)
Next morning was a slow start for Doug & I. It was equally slow for the incumbent SMC CIC dwellers.
So, Doug have you seen my boots?
Fech, fas that loon aff the telly daen?
At which point the said broadcaster standing at the hut door resplendent in a pair of super gaitered boots, broadcasts to one and all in an unmodulated fashion, "WHY DO MY BOOTS NOT FIT!?"
Well for a start, you have them on the wrong feet and to boot they're ma' boots
Fergal, thanks for setting this thread up. Seems most of the fun is around the Ben rather than the climbing itself - so here's another from the early eighties.
Doug and I managed to squeeze two berths in the CIC. In residence was a well known broadcaster. His appearances on TV usually took the form of said broadcaster standing on a prominent knoll dressed in kilt, Tam O' Shanter bunnet decked with tartan ribbon and two jauntly angled curled pheasant tail feathers. He would extol the virtues of the "Great Outdoors" in a booming voice that needed no artificial amplification even in the strongest gale.
An evening in said company in the confines of the CIC was too wearing. (So, Doug and I headed off down to the Fort for beer, dancing, chips & Burds - see previous tale)
Next morning was a slow start for Doug & I. It was equally slow for the incumbent SMC CIC dwellers.
So, Doug have you seen my boots?
Fech, fas that loon aff the telly daen?
At which point the said broadcaster standing at the hut door resplendent in a pair of super gaitered boots, broadcasts to one and all in an unmodulated fashion, "WHY DO MY BOOTS NOT FIT!?"
Well for a start, you have them on the wrong feet and to boot they're ma' boots
Post edited at 18:13
1
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