Easter Weekend 2013: a cold adventure.

[I'm not going to lie, I've been really struggling to write this post for a few weeks. It happens sometimes that I just don't know how to get everything down that I want to say about a weekend. Sometimes it just that no matter what I write it comes across as a disjointed and cobbled mess jumping from point to point. I've got to get this one down though, because it really was an excellent weekend]

Each Easter I go away to Wales. I have done ever since my first Easter trip years ago with Toaf. As times have progressed I've been away for whole weekends in good weather with loads of people to a single day trip. There's has only been one Easter trip that's actually winter conditions and I remember Toaf and I heading out (sans crampons, though avec a walking axe each) and doing the north and south ridges of Tryfan, Bristly Ridge and then having the navigate off the Glyder plateaux in a full white out. It was one to remember.

This year there was the best winter conditions I've experienced in Wales and I got to spend three days ice climbing at Idwal. Not only that but I went away with some great people. I couple we're old friends, one a recent additon to my climbing life and one was someone I've been wanting to get out with, but never really through our paths would cross. To make things even better I got to take out two of my friends, who won't mind me telling you that they only had a little or zero ice climbing experience before hand.

In the end Tim, Laura, Finney, Simon and Me base camped at Eric's barn. The barn itself feels like a second home to me and it has everything I could require for a base camp of sorts. We'd had a nice set up in there with a mock kitchen on the one side and all of us sleeping at the same end of the bunks. There was even a nice bean to hang all the winter kit off to dry. Our days were all actually pretty similar. We'd aim to get up around 6am, which meant that I did and everyone else stayed in bed for an extra few minutes (or half an hour). The planned leaving time was 0700 but we always mssed it. Then we'd drive to Idwal and walk in for our chosen route. By 1600 each day (normally sooner) we were back at Eric's lazing around outside in the sunshine waxing lyrical about the days' climbing while the gear hung from beams, rafter and washing lines drying. For some reason the boots always ended up on the top of my car.

The evenings were spent getting a bit drunk and cooking a variety of different foods as each climbing team seemed to be cooking for themselves. The evening activities would follow and this ranged from bouldering around the inside of the barn, dry-tooling the outside of he barn (including the beams, much to the horror of Laura), chin-up competitions and general tomfoolery. At some point Me and Simon would usually sit down and look through the guidebook for an objective for the next day, before the bags were packed and the kit made ready for the morning. The evenings last activity always ended up being a shiver in the sleeping bags... the hut has no heating.

Our first day saw us heading for Idwal Stream (II/III). It's a route I've climbed before in winter but doing it again would be fun. Routes never form in exactly the same way and the ice has a different character each year depending on what has led up to it forming. Idwal was a good option because it also offered lots of escape routes, should that me necessary. Up until this point ice climbing was something Finney had only dreamed of, whilst Laura had had one day of winter climbing on the Ben under her belt (which very nearly put her off completely). Simon and Tim would climb together as one team, leaving Laura, Finney and myself to follow.

I block lead every pitch on Idwal, which left Finney and Laura alone on the belays and they then climbed together. The idea of this was to keep the speed up, something that has become an obsession in winter. Moving quickly just makes more sense to me. If I have confidence in myself and the conditions then I'll try and move as quick as possible, something that Laura apparently cursed me for as she struggled to pay the ropes out quick enough. I don't think I've told her but her belaying was pretty spot on all weekend.

As for the route itself it couldn't have been more perfect, especially for Laura and Finney's first day out. The pitches of ice seamlessly flowed into easy snow slopes with reasonbly good belays throughout the route. I don't think I enjoy climbing anything as much as I enjoy climbing ice. There is just something about it, the movement, the medium, the texture, the punishment. For me it is a very simple joy. It's strange to think that a bit of frozen water can cause so much emotion but it does. We climbed about five distinct pitches of ice, connected by short snow gullies before we go to the final snow slope. Here I moved together with Finney and Laura soloed for a bit, until she decided that she didn't like moving over snow and became part of Simon and Tim's team. As winter days go, it was pretty perfect.

The second day both of ours teams headed for The Ramp (III/IV 3) as it was slightly harder and we knew it was in condition. Both Laura and Finney had expressed a wish to try some harder ice and this coincided well with my own personal desire to climb another classic ice route in Idwal.

This time Laura, Finney and I were the first team in the route. The first pitch was more of a snowy ramp than anything else until the final 15ft where it steeped and became the base of the main icefall. I joined the team before me in shared the cramped belay and made polite conversation as I belayed up Laura and Finney. With the three of us sharing belays it did make things quite cramped but I found a few ways round it. One was pre-cutting ledges for Finney and Laura if necessary and the second was to get Laura involved with the belaying. She climbed faster than Andy (as he had to remove the last belay) and once she'd arrived, she took over belaying up Finney. This gave me chase to re-flake the ropes ready for the next pitch. Over the course of the weekend we seemed to have this particular technique down to a tee.

The next pitch of ice was the big one, at least for this route. It was only short but the ice was fat. It was very enjoyable to climb, made more so by the overhanging roof of rock which made movement so much harder. I ended up kneeling on an icey step at one point (a bit of a touch and go moment!) while I moved my axes up. It did end with a much more spacious belay though. Laura and Finney both seemed thoroughly engaged in the pitch as I belayed them up. I think Finney might have even had a moment when his crampons ripped out, which can't have been a fun experience on his second ice route.

The final pitch was like a lot of final pitches, long and snowy. I actually like these pitches because on the odd occasion that they're full of neve then you can literally just run up them. This pitch wasn't filled with neve, but never the less it was fun to try and climb it as fast as I could. Laura must have loathed belaying me on this type of terrain. I stopped before I ran out of rope, finding an excellent block to belay off and they both joined me while we sat and waited for Simon. Simon didn't show up for a while and eventually Tim appeared climbing up the snowy gully on the lead, grim faced and muttering “why the f*ck do I do this”. He smiled when he saw us and belayed off the same rock bring up a soaked Simon, as the icefall has sprung a leak and he had nowhere to go. I guess that's just one of the perils of winter climbing!

On our final day we headed straight for Central Route (III, 3/4) but this time Tim didn't join us. He did walk in with us and even took some food and drink to meet us at the top after he'd bagged Y-Garn. Laura and I were first on route with Finney and Simon following on behind us. The first pitch was everything I wanted in a ice route, even with the lack of gear. We didn't even have a belay to start from, though we could have dug and axe belay. I'd set off with the intention of getting something in early but unless I pegged some rather chossy rock I wasn't going to happen. Instead I just enjoyed moving quickly over some excellent ice. I did find something eventually below the first serious bit of steeper ice. It was here that having 60 metre ropes really paid off.

Me and Laura were the first team on the route that day, something that I love. I hate being stuck behind another team for quite a few reasons. There is always the risk of ice, rock, gear or even a person coming down on you but my big concern is that I'm forced to belay behind the other team. It just wastes time and with this approach it saw me jetting off up the steepest bit of ice till I ran out of rope just after I'd passed it (much to my relief!). Laura climbed so well that day and she really enjoyed it.

The next pitch was a snowy gully with short sections of ice, before it broadened out again. Here I could just pick and choose whichever line I wanted, so of course I went for the hardest piece sure that Laura would be able to follow. Again she did and on arriving we decided it was time for Laura to learn how to take coils and move together. We didn't really need to as it was easy enough to solo but with such a nice day we could afford to. The final snow slope up the gully actually steepened but was full of perfect neve. I almost regretted the moving together as I just wanted to run up as fast as I could! We made short work of it either way.

Our speed on this route turned into our slight downfall as we now had to wait for our partners in crime climbing beneath us. It turned out they'd had to do it in three pitches in the end but we took the time to go through various snow anchors before settling down to huddle together out of the wind. It was almost a shame to look down on what was a perfect snow slope to see it covered in my crampon marks and a tonne of different ice axes belays and snow bollards. As we sat and waited who should turn up but Tim. This welcome surprise was made all the better by the flask of hot tea he provided. It wasn't long before Finney and Simon joined us, soloing up the final slope, Finney with a look of complete happiness on his face.

And that was it for our winter climbing over the Easter weekend. Considering I'd written off this winter season completely due to the state of my ankles I was overjoyed to get these routes in. It also reminded me how much I love climbing ice and just being out in winter in general. I couldn't have asked for better partners to climb with, or better people to spend time with over the 4 days. It was so nice to be away with a group so solely psyched to just get out climbing.

This winter trip has also led me onto planning another Alps trip, with Finney who's just psyched to get out there that I literally can't wait. Simon'll be out there this summer as well so the possibility of teaming up with him for a route is always on the cards.

Life is good. 

Training: a change in attitude.

If you asked me a couple of years ago if I ever trained or my opinions towards it you'd have probably gotten a response along the lines of “one: I don't train and two: I don't see the point of it”. My attitude towards my climbing (and mountaineering) for a long time has been that if I can't do it in my current state (and this included on occasion carrying a massive hangover) then I just couldn't do it. In my mind it seemed fair and if pushed I would justify this with some speal about how most of these routes have been climbed before when the gear was worse and the protection dubious. I'd argue I was leveling the playing field and giving the rock a chance.

The truth of the matter is that I just couldn't be bothered to train. It's one thing to go down the climbing wall for a couple of sessions a week and climb socially but quite another to actively train specifically. No one I actually climb with really trains, so why should I.

I think I can pin point the moment my opinion changed about training and I saw not just some, but a lot of merit in it. Between January 2012 and May (of the same year) I lost almost two stone in weight. This wasn't the point at which my view changed because this weight loss was done in a terrible way. I was stressed and therefore I wasn't eating properly and I wasn't sleeping properly. I became (and still am obsessed with my weight) and in doing so I would skip meals when I felt “fat” and then binge when I was hungry. You can imagine the kind of cycle which continued. In this time I probably had the best diet when I was away climbing with Soames on Anglesey.

The point at which it all changed for me was when I was bouldering at Churnet. The 7a traverse at Ousal has been something I've been after for a couple of years. I've always thought one day it'll just click and I'll do it, but I couldn't even work the crux moves. I went back the other day and after six months off bouldering outdoors because of my ankle injuries and dropping a load of weight I cruised through the crux. It was like I was a different climber and suddenly all the moves made sense. More importantly I felt strong, even though I was much lighter.

Since that point I've been eating much better. I'm managed to stabilise my eating habits to a point where I'm less obsessed about my weight, but rather what I'm actually eating. It's meant that I'm eating much healthier and much more enjoyable food. The other side of this has been setting goal which I need to train towards. I'm going to Ecrins in the summer with Soames for about 10 days. Last year we did not training and I think we faired pretty well. We climbed reasonably quickly (for a pair of Brits!) and enjoyed ourselves. This year we've both planned on being fitter and stronger.

Another goal to get fit for is another trip to the alps. This one comes with the pressure of somehow getting enough money together to get there. There'll be a direct correlation between funding and time spent there, so I'm trying to put as much aside as possible. The plan is loose but it's to actually do some alpinism, rather that just rock climbing. I'm going with Finney, who is just as psyched as I am and also seems to be just a driven to train. After the recent mini-winter season we had over Easter I think it ran home to both of us how much work we've got to do. On the other side of it being fitter means climbing quicker or for longer and burning less energy in the long run (either by literally being fitter or by moving quicker and therefore taking less time over all which'll equal a reduced pack weight).

The upshot of all this is that I'm actually training. My physio has helped a lot because it's been like having a personal trainer who just wants to punish my legs. My ankles are getting stronger each week but over all my legs themselves are long. I end up pushing myself harder each time just because I know I'll enjoy that elated feeling I have afterwards as I struggle to climb down the stairs with tired muscles. I guess exercise really does make you feel good.

When I used to think that I could just get by climbing the way I was I wasn't happy with my climbing. I can be extremely competitive however I find myself directing this more and more towards competing with myself rather than competing against others. I don't see a point in measuring myself against other people, especially when climbing. There is always going to be someone moving quicker or climbing harder, but no one is going to make me feel as bad as I do when I've not set myself a goal and not achieved it. It's my life, not anybody elses.

Echoes (by Nick Bullock)

I've recently been reading Echoes, written by Nick Bullock and I must say what an excellent book it it. I've not been reading much for a long time and it wasn't until I finally started reading this that I realized how much I've missed reading. I'm sorry to say that although Soames lent me the book about two months ago I've only started it this week! It has been a utter pleasure to loose myself in such honest yet scatterbrained literature.

I've not known very much about Nick Bullock, other than he likes climbing at Gogarth and he's a bloody good if scary alpinist who attempts hard routes in good style, whether or not he succeeds is another matter. He book has let me have a glimpse of his lifestyle and the choices that ave led up to them. It's quite clear that his years working in the prison service failed to mould him into just another rat-race chasing person. Instead they've done quite the opposite and caused him to throw his life into a completely different direction. I like his honest approach in how he talks about how his drive to climb had defined his life and has affected all aspects of it, from relationships to friendships, to the changing of some long held opinions about people and society.

After work each day I've lay in my tent, waiting for my trangia to boil (which gives me plenty of time) and lost myself in his writing. I feel like I can connect with him on some level, however small it might be. And on those levels that I don't connect, or with those experiences which I've not had, I find myself wondering if I'll ever be to some of the places he's been or climb some of the routes he's climb.

It's is simply a joy to read, so thank you Nick.

Nick Bullocks blog can be found here. 

And his DMM page with a bit of back ground information about him here.

A rather mad weekend... but with a sense of purpose

If last weekend (easter weekend) did anything, what it did was psyche me up for more climbing in a way that I've not felt in a while and like mot good climbing adventures it starts with a rather mad idea. The conditions were still in in North Wales but they wouldn't last forever. With this is mind but some time constraints I called up Finney with a simple plan... sleep out in the mountains and got climbing nice and early to guarantee that the route would still be frozen. I supposed you could view this as a mock alpine approach to winter climbing but did mean that I'd be able to get a night out in the mountains wild camping. How did it all go then?

I had time constraints in the form of an induction at Peak Pursuits on their mobile climbing wall (on the Friday morning) and then work (on said mobile climbing wall) at Trentham Gardens on the Sunday. This gave us from whatever time I finished my induction to technically Sunday morning, but instead of cutting it fine we opted to come back on the evening before. As soon as my induction was over I headed to Finney's house and we began the process of deciding on everything we'd need, then trying to fit it into two sacks for the walk in. We could have packed everything up much lighter than we did, but that would probably have made for a cold night. Instead we stuck a few luxury items in like a second sleeping bag (for me), Petrol MSR stove because it's more efficient for the amount of fuel and therefore we could brew up more and a tent instead of bivi bags. Normally I'd have plumed for bivi bags, but Andy kind of made the final decision on this and I'm grateful for it.

In my head I saw us packing up the sacks in like twenty minutes and heading off to wales, but in reality it took us a couple of hours. We ended up discussing each piece of gear and whether we should take it. I began to think Andy was a little nervous about going and worried about how warm he'd be over night. I long ago accepted that my sleeping bags have one advantage, they're lightweight but not warm so I knew I was in for a restless night. Then we got onto the food we'd be eating. Andy didn't quite fancy my idea of Smash powder and thus we ended up with pasta, thick vegetable soup and a piece of fresh salmon to boil up with the pasta. I'm not going to lie, I was skeptical.

By the time we did come to leave I knew we'd be walking in in the evening light and not the afternoon sunshine. This was even better as far as I was concerned as the light at that time of day puts a beautiful glow on almost everything it touches. We'd get to watch the sunset as it dipped behind the mountains. This is exactly what happened on our walk in. With heavier packs than the weekend before we were somewhat slowed down but it didn't matter. When I pointed out that I'd planned to camp actually up in Nameless Cwm in preparation for an ice route in the morning I got the distinct impression that Finney did not want to camp on the snow. We settled on a camping spot (after much searching around for a flat piece of ground that overlooked most to the back wall of devils kitchen. By now it was actually getting dark and there was a distinct change in the temperature as the sun dipped out of view. It was time for cups of tea and food to be sorted, by headtorch light.

Cooking was a fun game. I'd set up a kitchen area slightly away from the tent because it was out of the wind. With hindsight I'll just cook in the awning of the tent in future as I ended up doing that anyway. I'll get to lay in my sleeping then as well. As I've mentioned Finney had carried up a piece of fresh salmon, something I was sceptical of. His plan was to just throw it in with the pasta and allow it to cook through and break down, before adding the soup. This was probably the nicest wild camping food I've ever eaten and the smell of boiling salmon must have carried for miles over the Idwal area. It really did smell amazing.

Our evenings entertainment was in the form of a team of three climbing up Idwal stream, by headtorch light. We noticed them as we started eating and couldn't work out if they were stuck, involved in the rescue of just slow. I think they were probably having difficulty with a pitch because they soon speeded up their progress as the evening progress. They didn't start down the walk off until 1115 and by this time we'd retreated to the sleeping bags and were sipping hot chocolate (brewed in the awning!). Finney was going for the full “alpine” experience as he'd forgotten his roll mat and not realised until we started sorting out the kit in the car park. My car usually has a few odds and ends in it and we found two pieces of foam (normally sitting mats) that'd do the job. When Finney realized he'd forgotten his roll mat, his first thought was that he'd just sleep on his bag not wanting to miss out on a nights camping. I think this is testament to his sturdiness. Sleep came eventually and I'd closed my eyes and accepted that I'd have a cold, restless night.

To my amazement I didn't wake up during the night shivering, not did I wake up in the morning cold. I'd actually had a warm night in the sleeping bag... as poor as they are. I put it down to a few things like wearing my belay jacket to sleep in and sharing the tent which must have pushed the temperature up. We did oversleep but this was probably because we stayed up discussing our planned route for the day before. Originally I'd suggested Clogwen Left hand high up in Nameless Cwm. It was a route I'd attempted early on in the season last year when the second pitch of ice wasn't fully formed, but I'd already clocked that the top pitch had a fat load of ice on it. Finney wanted to climb a grade IV as well, but the only problem with this plan was that it was grade V. I was pretty psyched to try it but it was quite a grade jump for Finney, especially as it was his 4^th ice route. We also only had four ice screws with us. Idea's were thrown back and forward till Finney suggested East gully IV (3,4) which was supposed to be quick to come into condition and was a mixed route. Somehow this became our objective for the day.

I managed to make a brew from my sleeping bag in the morning. This might not seem like a big achievement but when you factor in I've borrowed a rather temperamental MSR XGR petrol stove it is, especially as I did it without melting the tent. I've been using this stove for a few weekends just because of the cold weather and it really impresses me. It is definitely the most economical stove I've used with regards to fuel and because of this I don't feel bad about leaving it running and brewing up loads of water. The other benefit is that I don't have to sleep with cold gas canisters in my sleeping bag.

We weren't the first people up that morning. As I left the tent and started packing up for the day a couple of teams passed us on the walk in to Nameless Cwm, eager to get in routes before the thaw that day. We left the tent at about 0800 and after much plodding through powder snow got to the base of the route at about 0900. I'm sure if the snow conditions were better then we'd have gotten there much quicker. Sadly the snow was a nice thin crust of neve, not enough to support my or Finney's weight and then up to a couple of foot of powder snow beneath. Needless to say progress was slow. We had tried to go for a lighter approach by bringing only the one sack. One of the reasons behind this was that Finney's sack was already falling to bits and defiantly not suitable for climbing in.

The first pitch of East Gully was horrendous. It was by far the hardest pitch I'd led all season and I was bricking it all the way up. I think that I might have not climbed the correct line and instead climbed a groove which relied on too much tenious hooking for my liking. The correct line I think followed a rather thin stream of ice to the left, but I really didn't fancy that. I reached a piece of rock that resembled a belay and brought Finney up to me, who wasn't happy about this pitch either. Still we carried on and got our first and last section of ice in.

The next pitch started with a short 15 metre section of ice which I happily climbed up until I hit the powder snow above. This powder really slowed us down as I was forced o pretty much clean a few inches of the stuff off for each decently placement. The Snow carried on till another belay could be reached. The belays on this route were few and far between and all a little bit hard to organise. It is just part of winter climbing, but finding a good belay for each pitch was a priority for me. I just didn't want to hold Finney if he fell off. 

The rest of the route was simply a joy to climb. I'd now climbed enough that I wasn't bothered about the lack of pure ice on the route and my brain seemed to have engaged into using the frozen turf. I love the noise it makes when you sink a pick deep into a big plug of turf and it just sounds like it's never going to come out. Mixed climbing in this way always seems so much more akin to rock climbing as you're constantly looking for the next placement and trying to keep balance on your crampons so much more. I've always found pure ice much simpler to climb as I make my own holds and move up without really thinking about how I'm moving, instead just letting it happen and enjoying it. 

I did have a few moments as I was leading though. At one point I had everything I was standing on and axes buried into rip out, causing me to fall about 5 ft before my right axe (which had been wildly swung at the wall) caught on a small edge. I hung there for a minute, with about a centimeter of my pick hooked on this small ledge and glanced down at Finney. I can still remember the ashen look on his face as I made some stupid comment to try and relieve the stress of the situation. I moved a little slower and tested placements a lot more after that.

The last pitch was again a little bit exciting. I tried to take the hardest line out of the top of the gully, but I couldn't make the step over to it so I carried on the up the next hardest. At the back of my mind some little mental ticker was flashing up a warning along the lines of “You'll run out of rope soon” and all I could think was that there was no way of me safely reversing the moves I'd just done. I was committed to finishing this short section and hopefully finding a belay above. I did make it onto the snow slope at the top, which was terrible. The type of crumbly snow which seems to delight in shifting away under your feet and giving you a horrible feeling of insecurity. I spotted a good crack about 10ft away and took two steps before the rope came tight. I was now up the creek without a paddle. I yelled to Finney that he'd need to start climbing. From his point of view he had just watching this mass of snow coming down the route. For all the powder that I'd had to clear off on the way up, Finney had to wade through it as he seconded. He wasn't happy about simuli-climbing the last 10ft. 

Needless to say my brain kicked in eventually and I started digging through the snow till I found something. This something was in the form of a sling round a bedrock spike. In the summer when I'm trad climbing I never build a belay off one anchor, it just doesn't seem acceptable but for some reason the rules are different in winter. I yelled I was safe and started taking in. Finney arrived shortly after and took the last pitch, a short pitch of good snow and he brought me up the the final belay where we sat in the sun.

I'd checked my watch and it was now 1200 which meant we'd climbed pretty well. The afternoon was supposed to be 9 degrees and I wanted to be off the snow by this till. We could have moved a little quicker to start down but I don't think we felt we needed too. Instead we sat eating through the small amount of food we brought, re-racked most of the gear (apart from the dropped or left behind items) and discussed the route. Finney told me there was a few moments where he was just not happy and wanted to be elsewhere. I told him I'd had the same but for both of us it was never when were actually climbing, just when we were hanging around belaying. I guess we had time to let our minds just wander.

I could bore you with our long journey back down but there isn't that much I can say about walking down hill through snow. I can tell you that it was a bad choice putting the asymmetric bars on my G14 crampons. They made it awkward to walk in and bad to climb in and top of that by the time I'd finished the left crampon had disconnected itself from my boot and was hanging round my ankle. My first thought was to sell them and I probably will. I can't really justify owning a heavy weight pair of really aggressive crampons when my general use crampons are close to breaking. I should just replace them with some G12's. 

Back at base camp (for want of better phrase) it quickly became apparent that Andy and I were tired, and with an afternoon of sunshine you can just imagine what happened. We got as far as making a single cup of tea (each) before we lay in the sun and fell asleep. When we did move it as late afternoon but there was no rush to get back. I only had work in the morning.

The weekend before I climbed my first ice routes of the season and now this weekend just gone has probably been my last. I really do feel pretty lucky to even have got this small amount of winter climbing in. Although I'm supposed to be coming to the end of my physio (which has been excellent) and my ankles do feel stronger they still hurt a lot. It's like a constant worry at the back of my mind that I'll twist an ankle. Even a small twist seems to put me out of action for a week or so at the moment. I'm pretty happy to have even got out.

Finally, and this feels a little like an obituary, but my trusty tent has finally given up. I've had her for many many years and she's stood up to some truly horrible conditions and never been found wanting. The fabric is seems is now just too weak to even sew back together and a pole broke when I set it up to repair it. It's a sad moment for me and rather stupidly something I'm having a lot of trouble coming to terms with. I've got a lot of memories of that tent and it's taken me to many places. I guess it's last wild camping as our base camp whilst winter climbing was a fitting end.