Grumpy Old Men's Desert Island ClimbsReturn

 

Well, all you despondant Grumpies, John Jones (Elaine actually) has come up with an excellent idea to cheer us up and bolster our egos. Desert Island Climbs. So it seems only appropriate that John is the first on the list. For the infamous failures, blame Brian Rossiter.

The ids are many, so here is a quick access list. Use your browser return arrow to go back to the top.

* Infamaous 5 failures, but sometimes just 0ne.

The Desert Island climbs of John Jones

1. The Devil's Slide. Lundy Hard Severe 4a

I must have been to Lundy six or seven times and each trip was a great experience. The Devil's Slide is one of the easiest routes I've climbed there, but definitely one of the best.

It's a perfect 400 ft slab of golden granite soaring up from a surging blue sea and rearing up defiantly at the top. On a sunny summer's day a joyful experience, finished by sun bathing on the turf and a pint or two at the Marisco Tavern.

https://i.ytimg.com/vi/q2fW1pyJAeU/maxresdefault.jpg

2. Gogarth. Gogarth E1 5b

Another route I’ve done several times. Once you can see the crag, descend the damp muddy corner. Traverse through the vegetation over the steep drop and down to sea level. Nearly there. Stare up at the white and yellow licheny wall and start up the first of 5 steep, varied pitches, with the hardest at the top. When we first climbed out at the top the attacking screeching gulls were deterred only by whizzing a sling around your head with the biggest nut on the rack and screeching back.

https://www.ukclimbing.com/photos/dbpage.php?id=335798

3. The Troach. Cloggy E2 5b

Which route to choose on Cloggy? The Troach is just one amongst so many memories. As the guide says “A magnificent bold wall-climb giving open and exposed climbing on good holds with spaced protection.” Certainly felt exposed, spaced and bold in 1964, no helmet, rope tied around the waist, a few slings around the neck, a Moac, and a nice pair of moleskin britches.

https://www.ukclimbing.com/photos/dbpage.php?id=159302

4. Preposterous Tales. Bosherston Head. E2 5b

This route is a wild, crazy trip into the bowels of the earth. Abseil to a tiny stance just above sea level. Traverse right and up around the arete and get into the small cave just above a huge lower one with sparkling waves crashing in. Speleology begins as you climb 50 feet inland into the top of the cave, yes the top! Traverse the slippery wall to the light at the end of the tunnel. Then fire up the massive blow hole to the cliff top. You will never do another route like it.

(Subterranian Rabbit Launcher was a bit like this until it all fell into the sea. Ed)

(No photo could do it justice)

5. Reve de Fer. 6a, 6b, 6b, 6b+. Gorges de Verdon.

We'd already been at Boux and done the brilliant Pilier des Formis, a route sculpted by the patron saint of climbing. Verdon was different and much more scary. From the rim of the Gorge tie knots at the end of the ropes and make four abseils straight down to the tiniest of ledges with two bolts above a huge impending wall. There’s no going down from here, the only way is up and no-one is going to hear cries for help.

https://www.planetmountain.com/english/Rock/routes/itineraries/scheda.php?lang=eng&id_itinerario=846&id_tipologia=38

6. Shibboleth. E2 5c. Buachaille Etive Mor, Glencoe.

I first went rock climbing in Scotland during my first year at Manchester University. My partner and friend Robin Barley was a fount of information on climbing and introduced me to the legend of Robin Smith, a Scottish first ascentionist par excellence. I was desperate to do his routes and especially this one, but it's high in the dank darkness of Raven Gully and always seemed to be wet. It wasn't until 1980 that I finally got an opportunity.

So, flog up hundreds of feet to the looming black wall. Start up the mossy, damp rocks of the approach pitch and hope it gets drier. All pitches are indeed drier except the second, crux corner. At least we had decent wires in 1980. There are 4 more pitches, not too strenuous, but some delicate 5b climbing and with increasing exposure. So rewarding to top out, especially after so many years.

7. Left Wall. E2 5c. Dinas Cromlech.

Want to argue with the E2? I would, and it certainly isn't E1.

A single 145 ft pitch up the left wall of the huge corner dominating the north side of the pass. After a pocketed wall you climb a right-slanting steep crack helped by some small holds on the wall. Pass a hard section and hide in a niche below the steep wall split by a very thin left-slanting crack. Set yourself up by getting pro in the first section, scuttle back down, rest and take a deep breath. It's demanding stuff as the crack narrows and you try to find the best foot placements on the wall and place gear. A line of flakes leading left to the arete and success; if you can persuade your arms to agree.

This last bit has entered the annals. When Dick first led the route, his arms were reluctant to comply. His shouts of desperation were clearly heard by climbers on Dinas Mot. And possibly as far as Llanberis.

8. Bachelors Left Hand. HVS 5b. Hen Cloud

Sitting at the base of the route on the heather-covered slope overlooking fields and reservoirs and out into Cheshire you decide to climb the route. Struggle up the short tricky starting wall. Fix some gear as far right into the slanting crack as you can reach. Move across quickly to stand awkwardly and move up to the big flake. Once you've managed to get above it you're on a slabby wall but using care you surmount it and reach the base of the final section. A very wide flake crack which doesn't easily take gear is the final challenge. A gritstone classic. I could have chosen any number of others.

Do it in the evening sun of a still summers day.

PS I would have included the Vest Pillaren on Lofoten but Dick beat me to it and brings it to life in his description.

Cloggy's Great Wall was another contender. I did it with a couple of nuts for aid in the early 70s, Dick and I later made an attempt which was stopped by the weather. We made a pact that we would not climb it again unless we did it together. Some pact!

 

Desert Island Climbs of Dick Turnbull.

1. Christmas Crack - Stanage HS – best route of its grade on Stanage; important to me for all the Christmas Day ascents with my family and friends (and others!) Fantastic variety of gritstone climbing, do-able in all conditions, aesthetic line, very alpine!

2. Great Wall – Cloggy E4 5c – a wonderful route that I feel guilty about due to promising JJ that I would complete it with him (we had retreated from the 2nd pitch due to dense dripping fog!) A true climbing ‘journey’ as it requires sustained ‘step-by-step’ progress up intricate 85° terrain with uncertain protection, followed by wild traversing across a proper ‘void’. Brilliant and a personal milestone.

3. Lotus Flower Tower – Yukon 2,000ft grade V 5.10 – one of the world’s most aesthetic and dramatic rock faces split by 6 full length cracks (the Ski Tracks) , truly remote and perfect even down to the superb accommodation of it’s bivvy ledge! Done with Martin Wragg after an extraordinary trip in by ‘float plane’ from a ‘wilderness’ hotel to a glacial lake followed by a desperate thrash through old pine forest (grizzly country) and up 2,500ft of newly collapsed mountain to a beautiful high alpine meadow and sheltered campsite. After a v. wet snowstorm the face cleared remarkably quickly and a day later we climbed steep 5.10 damp granite cracks to the spacious bivvy ledge at 1/3rds height. Wonderful level ledge complete with snow bank for lots of brews! Next day we left our packs on the ledge and spent the day following steep, perfect hand/fist cracks (the famous Ski Tracks) on perfect rock complimented by prominent chicken-heads to ease progress (don’t fall off, it’s a shredder!) up to a capping roof 2 pitches from the top. Straight over is UK 6a so we used a couple of in-situ pegs and up the continuing cracks to a proper summit. The whole route is equipped with a bolt ‘rap route’ so we could zip back down to the ledge and our gear. After such an extraordinary climbing experience we decided to stay another night on the ledge as it was such an idyllic bivvy site. Next day the descent was more complex but we were safely back at our campsite by lunchtime ready for a sumptuous meal of what freeze dried food the (********) resident marmot had left us!

4. Quarter Dome – Yosemite Grade 1,200ft V 5.10b A2 – done in 1978 with Dickie Swinden. Wonderful granite climbing with challenging slab and crack pitches as well as some very tricky aid sections all in a wild and remote setting at the head of Tenya Canyon. Now free at 5.12!

5. Prophecy of Drowning - Pabbay E2 5c* – in 2001 Jonesy, Greg Rimmer and I sailed in my 25ft gaff rigged yawl from Oban to Castle Bay on Barra with the intention of climbing Prophecy of Drowning on Pabbay. We had seen fabulous photos that inspired us to go and we were not disappointed. A brilliant classic sea-cliff climb with an exciting approach, great rock, extraordinary positions, a sinuous compelling line and wonderful ‘do-able’ climbing – nothing ‘awkward’ or ‘interesting’; phrases much used by UK guidebook writers to conceal desperate and dangerous climbing!

6.Philip – Flamm – Civetta, Dolomites 3,000ft V11 6+* - I did this with Mike Mortimer in 2007. A fantastic great beast of a route up the NW Face of the Civetta. Steeped in history this takes a fairly direct line up a great corner and then branches out left to the bottom of a long series of often wet chimneys, grooves, gullies topped with a proper overhang just before the finish. Somewhere in the top section you even have to do some exciting caving. We did it 2 days as we were held up by locals!

7. Kosterlitz – Isherwood route – Badile NE 2,000ft ED 6+ A2 – done in 1974 (7th ascent) with my university friend Pete Orme. It was our first ‘big’ modern climb in the Alps ( we had already climbed in the Aiguilles in Chamonix, Plan, Blatiere etc) and we chose it as we thought ‘if we fail we can abb straight down as it is a straight-up route!’ Difficult approach (now, I hear, impossible due to global glacier retreat) up steep mini-glacier (we only had 1 crampon each, an early attempt to go light-weight!) then free climbing up icy chimneys, long jamming cracks and plenty of A1 cracks. One hanging bivvy in belay seats with thunder and lightning rattling around but not over us (Pete’s borrowed seat burst in the night leaving him dangling!) We ran out of water near the top and became very dehydrated as the top section had some of the hardest climbing. We stayed a 2nd night in the little tin hut on top melting snow using an in-situ candle and a tin piss-pot! Long descent into Italy and a trek back across passes to Switzerland. Another very formative experience and tremendous boost for our confidence.

8. Presten (The Priest) Lofoten 1,300ft Vestpillaren E2 5b & Heaven can wait E3 5c – situated above the beautiful fishing village of Henningsvaer in the Lofoten Islands, the Presten (Priest) rises precipitously over the surrounding sea. I have climbed this spectacular granite tooth 4 times! 2 x Vestpillaren firstly in 1982 with Renny Croft when we just followed our noses as we had no proper guide or directions! Needless to say there was no-one else around. Then I did it with Pete Orme in 2006 and the Vestpillaren again with my boy James by the better Crusader start. By then it had become a ‘worldie’ and busy with climbers from all corners. Last time was with JJ, Gordon and Mike Waters in 2011 when we did Heaven can wait which features a magnificent finale up wonderful crack/groove climbing culminating in an overhang right at the end. A truly great climbing venue in a magnificent setting surrounded by aqua-marine water, sea eagles and on one ascent a Viking ship sailing far below. This place sums up great rock climbing; exotic wild location, challenging to get to, an extraordinary feeling of wilderness and connection. No wonder I have done it so often with my best friends!

* I have a full length article about these routes.

Dick Turnbull's Infamous 5 Failures

1. Croz Spur, Grandes Jorrasses 1987: My biggest ‘failure’ gave me more confidence that many other successes! (see main Grumpies page) A big retreat comprising 27 abseils in a raging winter storm down one of the biggest north faces in the Alps. I once said to Jonesy that I felt a bit of a fraud as I had never been properly tested on a mountain as we always were dutifully sensible about choosing good settled weather when we went out on the hill. This time we were unlucky and got caught out but it meant I could come home and tell him that I would be very happy not to be tested again!

2. Denali 1995: On a trip with Frank Connel, Martin Wragg and Dave Pearce to climb the Cassin on Denali I had to be helicoptered off from the 14,000 camp with a umbilical hernia. On an acclimatising trip up the W Ridge the strain of pulling a ‘pulk’ sledge, breaking trail and surviving a dramatic storm which buried and nearly suffocated us all was enough to aggravate an old forgotten problem and I collapsed etc and had to be evacuated. I was flown back to Anchorage and into hospital where they stabilised my condition (I chose not to have surgery there in the USA!) The others failed to summit – bad weather etc – so the whole trip was ‘disappointing’!

3. Suncrush HVS 5a, Wyncliffe, Wye Valley 1975: I was just finishing leading the beautiful, vertical 100ft single pitch of Suncrush on the Wyncliffe, a lovely little limestone crag in the woods on the side of the Wye Valley when it happened. As I topped out I stepped up onto the steep earthy bank to traverse to the right to a solid yew tree belay when the parched and loose top-soil avalanched taking me with it! I was instantly fully airborne! I remember distinctly looking down and seeing my arms and legs stretched out beneath me as I hurtled downwards with the white rock to my left and the green of the trees to my right and thinking ‘shit, this is taking a long time!’

In an instant the rope caught me and flipped me and I lost all orientation. Then ‘bang’ - I hit the ground! - I00ft crag and I decked out! What was going on? Then I realised I was alive and not hurt! Wow! My mate Pete was sitting sprawled on the ground moaning staring at his hands with a look of shock and horror. I jumped up adrenaline pulsing wildly through me and at that moment a passing tourist (Wyncliffe has an old Victorian tourist staircase up it – a sort of Victorian via ferrata.) burst through the trees responding to the desperate cacophony that he had heard and asked if everything was OK. ‘Fine’ I gabbled ‘I was up there and now I’m down here and all is just fine so nothing to worry about’ He retreated rapidly!

Pete told me what happened as I drove him to the conveniently placed local Burns Hospital for treatment to his deeply scorched hands. As I fell he was sitting half dozing in the lovely warm spring sunshine when he was rudely jolted into action. He looked up and saw this awful vision of a large screaming solid object in the middle of a mass of flying earth hurtling down towards him. He had recently acquired a Salewa Sticht Plate which he understood to be a magic belay device that was fool proof - didn’t need gloves or anything old fashioned like that – but in his awakening confusion he had grabbed the rope on the active side of the plate rather than the passive side! This was a mistake! - his burning hands swiftly led him to correct it – just in time to stop me hitting the ground in front of him with full messy impact!

I was in an intense hyped-up state and once it was clear he was sort-of-OK, I pulled the ropes down then, spotting most of my gear (apart from the piece that actually held me at 70ft) still in place at the crux about 30ft up, soloed up, got the gear back and soloed down - only then did I get Pete back to the car and off to the Burns Unit.

Two things happened later as a result of our fiasco. Firstly: although he recovered well, Pete gave up climbing! Secondly: About 6 months later as I was working in the Climbing Dept at Alpine Sports in Holborn, a chap came in and asked: ‘Are you Dick Turnbull?’ To which I cagily replied ‘Yes’ – he then said ‘well, I think this must be yours’ as he handed over my trusty Chouinard hex on rope that I had left 70ft up and had saved me!

4.Skull, Cyrn Las E4 6a– with Jonesy: back in the day when we thought we were OK climbers, Jonesy and I went up to Cyrn Las to tackle the Skull. I led the first 5c pitch with some difficulty (i.e. a ‘small’ fall at the site of some finger-chopping loose-ish flakes!) John was up for the 2nd pitch despite it being 6a, a grade we didn’t usually seek out! Anyway, he set off with gusto but soon slowed down and discontented mutterings started. ‘Where’s the ******* protection’ and ‘watch me here’ (my usual cry!) I couldn’t see my intrepid leader very well but the mutterings got louder until a frantic yelp and there was Jones flying - really quite a long way - until a gratifying twang of the rope and he thankfully stopped, very shaken but unhurt. The only way was down after that as my resolve wasn’t strong enough to have a go - so that is where we went!

5. Meru, E Face 1985: After climbing the Alps in winter for a few years Al Morgan and I thought we should attempt a Himalayan trip as we were by now such accomplished mountaineers! Along with Jonesy and Martin Burrows-Smith we selected the Gangotri peak of Meru next to Shivling. At that time it was a highly sought after line that had been eyed up by lots of teams. We went to climb the famous Shark’s Fin rock wall but on arrival (a great trip in itself) we saw it was being swept too regularly by avalanches to be a goer so we went for the more mixed E Face. Our best climber Martin went home early with a bad chest complaint so it was up to the three of us to get on with it. The approach was awkward and quite long but the real problem was that being an E face it caught the sun from first light and the snow rapidly deteriorated into soft slush. Making progress on this big snowy lower section of the face was ball-breaking and very worrying. We stopped at a huge boulder stuck in the middle of the face and I then led up to what looked like a fine skyline ridge. We had brought a couple of extra ropes in case we needed to fix any section so rather than take non-existent belays on the slushy face we tied all the ropes together and I led out 600ft to what I discovered was a horrible bottomless collapsing snow ridge. I could make no adequate belay, indeed every movement led to more collapse under me so I decided not to bring the others up until the snow was somewhat more solid early next morning.

After a cold, lonely and precarious night on the ridge, I decided not to bring the others up but descend back to the boulder, recover from my worrying night out and go on the next morning. My descent was precarious as I abseiled off 2 crossed ice screws buried as deep as I could get them to get down the steepest section from the ridge. After that I climbed (slid!) back down to the chaps at the boulder. We spent another night recovering and brewing there before setting off in a more direct line up the deeply fluted snow face above. We were aiming for the point where the snow face seemed to meet rock so I ploughed my way upwards eventually tunnelling more than climbing, leaving a trench more than shoulder high behind me for the others to enjoy! We spent the night on relatively solid bivvy site (we even had a rock belay!) with Jonesy feeling crap and Al very dispirited. Next morning John led across a nasty, tricky steep wall and he and I (Al had said ‘go on without me!) pushed on to see how far we could go until the inevitable happened. Two or three more pitches up we decided to give it up. We were fucked! We had reached about 20,000ft and although faced with technical mixed climbing, which felt great after the awful slush-fest below, we obviously weren’t up for it. I was knackered, John was ill and Al had already decided to go down. At my high point about 60ft up our final pitch of the day I banged a peg in to mark our highpoint and down we went.

The descent was long, dangerous, precarious and ‘fraught’! Enough said – but we got down alive and were met by our lovely Liaison Officer and our cook who had seen us falter and come up the glacier to help us down. Seeing them was wonderful – Laksman, our cook, had brought up some boiled eggs which went down like solid nectar and he picked up more than most people can carry and was off back to base camp.

So – a failure but our consolation was that we were all still alive and we got higher on the face than a whole load of hotshot teams did until it was finally done in the early 2000’s.

Other ‘failures’ that should mentioned in dispatches!

N Face Dru (winter) twice before getting it done.

Zangorilla with JJ.

A big unclimbed rock face near Fauske in Norway with Renny Croft.

Minus 1 Buttress, Ben Nevis (winter) – attempted by mistake!

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Chris Jackson

This may well read as an ego trip but for me the best climbs are those of consistent quality that I only just managed to get up. Maximum buzz at the top.

1. The Nose, El Cap, Yosemity Valley. Completed over 3 days with Tom Proctor sometime in the late 70s. I'm not sure of the date as I don't keep a diary and having lent out my slides they never came back.

Fantastic route and it was where I suddenly reallised that I was at home. You can keep your pretty mountains and your dangerous glaciers, I've tried them and usually found myself outside of my comfort zone. Give me ROCK. Steeped in tales of derring-do this monster route has of course been soloed and climbed in less time than I could walk up the path to the summit. It's got it all, cracks, overhangs, rickety bolt ladder at the top and of course the amazing King Swing from the top of Boot Flake. I've also climbed Salathe Wall since those heady days but this one was the best.

2. The Comici Route on the Cima Grande. VII E3 5c. With Bob Conway back in 1983. Head of a queue and Bob somehow lost the route and wandered with increasing desperation into grossly overthanging territory. Eventually we interpreted the angry instructions from the teams below us and were soon on-route. After that it was just fun fun fun all the way to the top though the chimneys proved to be a bit scary. Not only that, no-one told us to traverse off on the ledges near the summit so we ended climbing up a total pile of dangerous grot right to the top.

DIC

3. Fantasia. E3 4c, 5c. Red Wall For me almost all the Red Wall routes are brilliant, Red Haze, Red Shift, Wendigo, superb positions on outrageous rock, I'vr been back to them all many times but the top pitch of Fantasia is just quality all the way Totally absorbing until after the final moves.

4. Pagan. E4 5b, 5c, 5c. LH Red Wall. A more seroius kettle fish than Fantasia. P2 and P3 were distictly scary, scant protection and dodgy belays and I was so very relieved and delighted to reach the top. An amazing climb.

5. Bloody Sunday. E4 6a. Huntsman's Leap, Pembroke. We had climbed many of the routes on the East wall of Huntsman's Leap but the West wall kept taunting me. There may be better climbs on the West Wall of Huntsman's leap than Bloody Sunday but at E5 and above they were probably too hard for me and this was the easiest of them. Brilliant climbing on perfect rock with good protection, steep and strenuous but with a bit of cunning there were resting places to be found to ease aching arms.

6. Star Wars, E4 6a Bosherston Head, Pembroke. Whew, only just made it to the top of this one. I was talked into this by Bob Conway who sold it to me as a soft touch at the grade. Sandbagged! So steep but just when all semed lost something always came to hand. fantastic climbing up an unlikely looking wall.

7. Great Wall E4 6a, 5c. Clogwyn Du'r Arddu Steeped in legend and one that we always found excuses not to climb but eventually we ran out of them. Thie first pitch seemed fairly straight forward at the grade (no more than desperate) but the top pitch was another matter and though the climbing was not quite as hard as P1 I discovered that it was a lot more run out. Set in awesome surroundings, fantastic route never to be forgotten.

8. Resurrection, E4 6a. Dinas Chromlech. Left Wall or Resurrection? I think the latter just wins out but only just. Amazing climbing with lots of pockets and threads to arrange, and just when you think it's in the bag it nearly isn't thanks to a desperate move aright at the top. Brilliant!

Favourite Book Nanga Parbat Pilgrimage by Herman Buhl. My bible in my formative years

Luxury Item. Tricky one this, am I allowed a young lady?

Chris Jackson's Infamous 5 Failures.

1. Grotto Slab, Stanage, Mod. Before I ever pretended to be a climber I was more of a Sunday rambler. Whilst still a schoolboy in my early teens I stumbled upon this friendly looking slab of rock on Stanage, and chanced all in my bendy boots. Disaster, I had to be rescued by a climber.

2. Quicksilver 5.9 on Middle Cathedral Rocks, Yosemite. With Bill Wintrip, courage failed us. Bill informs me the Quicksilver now has an R grading. R = Runout, some protection placements may be very far apart (possibility of broken bones, even when properly protected). Wow, lucky escape.

3. DNB 5.10a Middle Cathedral Rocks. Bill Wintrip and I finally made it after a couple of abortive attempts due to a particularly nasty run out mantleshelf pitch. We did however get benighted as we couldn't find the descent ledges in the gathering gloom.

4. North Face of the Eiger. Bob Conway and I vaguely considered this and spent several minutes studying it intensively from the Kleine Scheidegg, we then chickened out and ordered another round of beers.

5. Right Wall, Dinas Cromlech. Failure due to exhaustion. I eventually followed John Fleming and was glad that I'd not pushed on regardless.

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Dave Clay

1. Tennis Shoe, Idwal Slabs ‘S’ Giddy as a teenager on a school trip. We were divided up into pairs and given a handful of nuts I loved romping up the quartz slab. I’d kissed Jude Agnew that day.

2. Great Slab, Gogwyn du Arddu, VS I seconded a teacher from school up this with another youth. At some point ‘Sir’ leading, pulled of a rock the size of a sack of coal, it missed us by a foot. Knocking out a belay peg, it pinged and disappeared down two pitches onto the scree. You’ll have to buy me another ‘Sir’ said.

When we got down I searched the scree and found it.

3. Tody’s Wall, Froggatt. VS..then! I was in my first year of A levels at college and this was my first tough VS lead, sans friends and having been told to mantleshelf the bulge, I flopped onto it, both legs sticking out into the air, so scared. Unaware that I’d Z clipped two runners in the top crack I remember yelling profanities at my friend to give me rope and crawled on to the top.

4. Bow Wall, Bosigran E2 5CBrilliant! So many runners! So many rests on the rope!

5. Quietus, Stanage, E2 5C Think Mick Moss held the rope, your runner has dropped out he said as I passed the first tricky layback move lower down. I must have been going well and was completely relaxed.

I’d fallen off this a couple .of times when I first tried it. Fabulous to go back and get those final jams with bleeding fists.

6. Cemetry Gates, Dinas Cromlech, HVS 5b Climbing with a much better climber, a window cleaner called Mike. He’d just led me up Cenotaph Corner and Left Wall. My lead next. I got passed the bulge and got a bomber nut in, a little higher, another but not good. Just below the crux got another good nut. A couple of feet higher the energy evaporated. ‘I’m going to have to rest on the gear’ I shouted. As I climbed down to the last runner I weighted it too soon and it sailed off down the rope. Totally pumped, there was a perfect placement infront of my nose but not enough energy left to place it, I hung on for another 30 seconds then ‘whoosh’ ripping out then next nut.

7. Tippler Direct, Stanage, E3 6a My third go, Dave Spencer was being very obliging to hold the rope another evening. I climbed up placed the friend and climbed down for a good rest. I was going to do it this time.

Passing the bulge for the flat holds on the wall, I stretched up for the break, this time looking down to extend my reach grasping like a blind man for the break before the inevitable ‘Whoosh’… but what was this… my finger tips walked onto the break, I had it!

8. Wings of Unreason, Roaches, E4 6a Mick Moss and I eventually found Brian Rossiter and Dave Spencer after the usual long search. They had a top rope on it. I had a go and second time managed to do the weird jump move from the pocket to the top. Brian led it successfully and they were then going to pack up, I asked if I could have a go at leading it. We were all surprised when I latched the top. I remember feeling like a king for the rest of day.

9. The Old Man of Hoy, E1 5b Now this was proper climbing! And a proper trip! Having sailed with Captain Dick, John Jones, Mike Waters and Gordon ‘Jonah’ MacNair. We rounded Cape Wrath in a gale, I remember thinking, ‘ how safe are we?’ when everyone seemed to go a little quiet and the conversation a bit clunky. It had rained every day so far bar one when god gave us blue skies on Skye for a day on Kilt rock.

On our penultimate day, Mike and I cycled around the ancient sites in the pouring rain. Salving something now we wouldn’t be able to climb the Old Man.In the morning shaking off the whisky beer and wine, amazed, we crawled out into a beautiful day.Dick and I led alternate pitches, I started and Dick led the crux pitch in good style. We met Mike and Gordon on the top…they having climbed a harder route. It was fab! Lot’s of beer that night.

­­In the morning Mike and I were still smiling on the plane home.

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Bill Geary

Talk of routes to the four corners of the world and beyond is making me feel inadequate so here are my favourites on Stanage:

1. Kelly's Overhang E1 5c

2. Goliath's Groove HVS 5a

3. Pot Black E2 5b

4. Right Unconquerable HVS 5a

5. Heaven Crack VDiff

6. Mississippi Buttress Direct VS 4c

7. Wuthering E2 5b

8. Manchester Buttress HS 4b

Anyone fancy tackling Yarncliffe?

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Eric Simpson

The first selection of climbs were all led by Martin with me as second, but they were amongst the most memorable of my life.

1. Traverse of the Arretes de Rocher St. Julian, Buis les Baronnies

This was one of the first routes I did. Having said that I would never go on the end of a rope, I was climbing in trainers. It was a hot day, and both Martin’s children were on the climb as well. Reaching the cross on the top of the final pinnacle was quite a relief. Martin said that his bad back came from hauling me up the crag! When we tried to repeat the route a few years ago we had to give up because of the extreme heat and running out of water. A handy abseil took us down to the base.

Eric

2. Old Man of Hoy

I was on leave from work as my dad had just died suddenly. As it was near October half-term, Martin decided to take me on an adventure! Planning took a few days and we reached Hoy on a tiny boat with a stark message on disembarking telling us that no rescue was possible. We decided to go and have a look at the crag having planned to stay in a hut at Rackwick Bay. We arrived at the foot of the climb and set a time to descend so we wouldn’t lose all the daylight. Amazingly we were up and down by about 2pm having had a most fantastic climb. One of the few where I remember the excitement and fear of each pitch. We were able to get back to Stromness in time to find a B&B (run by a chap from Barnsley) and have a slap up meal. The rain started that evening and continued for several days…

EricEric

3. Deidre Magicos, Puig Campana, Calpe

Must have been my first trip to Calpe. Martin decided to have a full day on a multi-pitch route (8, I think). By the time we had walked to the foot of the climb I was knackered, however it’s amazing how one revives when faced with the problems on a climb. Fortunately I had done some abseiling on our French holidays so I survived to reach the bottom after a brilliant day out, with fantastic scenery.

Eric

4. Eperon Sublime, Verdon Gorge

We arrived at the Belvedere to find a bloke on the other side of the railings peering down at the misty depths of the gorge. Much relieved to find that he was a base jumper and not contemplating suicide!

The realisation after the Luna Bong abseil that you had to climb out to survive focussed the mind somewhat. When I reached the hand traverse pitch I noticed that the bolts were all below the ledge, and if I came off I would be in real trouble! Thankfully with a tight rope I reached the end of this section only to find there were still some stiff moves above (7a if done without aid). Struggled gratefully over the final lip to head back down to the campsite for a very stiff drink.

5. Arête du Belvedere de Malines

Another brilliant multi-pitch route. Accessed by an exposed scramble down the length of the face with the assistance of some wires and staples at key points. Nine pitches in all, we were in the sun all day but thankfully the hardest pitches were at the bottom. We were accompanied by John Wilkinson, Martin’s old alpine buddy.

6. Perskindol, Kalymnos

I’ve included this because it was one of my best lead routes on Kalymnos, and at the time the hardest (6b+ but downgraded to 6b the following year). Memorable because John G led the route first putting the quick-draws in, and was then succeeded by Cath, Martin and then myself. The climb suited me because although it was steep, it was juggy with long reaches.

Eric


7. 3-Stripes, Kalymnos

I’ve done this multi-pitch route three times. First with Martin a few weeks after it was developed so rather grubby; then with John Middleton, and finally with Helen. The grade is just right for me with good gear and stances. The route gets to the top of this section of the crag with great views but I always find the descent harder than the route. I don’t think I’ve followed the same path each time!

Eric

 

8. Via ferrata at Chisa, Corsica

Called U Calconi you have to book the route and pay a small fee. I’ve included this because it was my first proper via ferrata with Tyroliennes. It climbs to the top of the mountain, then descends steeply again using four zip wires, each one longer than the last, the final one being about 250m long. The speed is amazing! You are slowed down by a bungee rope tethered to the ground and you need to keep your legs together at the side, not open as that could be really painful! These were a first for Martin as well so seeing this 70 year old guy throwing himself onto the wire with no hesitation was amazing. Still remains my best via ferrata.

Eric

Book

I’m going to be very sad here but this is a reaction to all the text books and journals that I have read over the years. I’ve read and re-read Lord of the Rings many times since I was a teenager and I could happily read it again

Luxury item

My Mini Cooper-S convertible

Naturally it won’t drive anywhere as there aren’t any roads but I could sit in it with the roof down and pretend to have the wind rushing through my hair…

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Tony Mays

On grit:

1. Mississipi Buttress Direct VS 4c ***

Just because it’s so bloody good. Every single move is deeply pleasing. An aesthetic masterpiece and the strongest argument I could muster for Intelligent Design.

On Derbyshire limestone:

2. Darius E3 5c ***. I still don’t know how I managed to get up this but I know I was a different person afterwards. A true expedition and an exploration of the mind. It may have been my first E2 5c, as it was graded then.

The rest have stories attached:

3. Rock Idol *** Mother Carey’s Kitchen, Pembrokeshire. E1 5a

My first E1?

I’d just got back from a scary week on Lundy (climbing VSs) when the legendary Dave Cook (whom I’d met there) got in touch with me to ask if I’d like to go to Pembrokeshire with him and a couple of his mates. I didn’t kid myself that it was for my climbing or my company that Dave contacted me. It was because I had a car.

They were a bit out of my league but I happily went along, without much knowledge of Pembroke; nor did I have my own guidebook. Dave climbed with his mate Bruce, whilst I climbed with a youngster whose id I can’t recall.

The highlight for me was Rock Idol, which was, at the time, at the limit of my rather limited range. It was a mighty struggle and I emerged at the top bathed in sweat and with a “total body pump” on. I was exultant and couldn’t wait to get to the St Govan’s Inn to tell everyone I’d led my first E1. I was so deflated when informed that it was “only” HVS. (Remember I didn’t have a guidebook.) However I was immensely gratified when I bought the next edition of the guidebook and discovered it had been upgraded to E1.

4. Magical Mystery Tour HVS *** Toix Sea Cliffs

I first did this route with my friend Dick Williams after meeting up with him in Calpe at Easter 1991. I had been travelling round Spain in my campervan after teaching English in Barcelona & Galicia.

Our ascent was not without incident as, firstly we couldn’t locate the abseil point, secondly we got our twin ropes, which we were using to abseil, snagged & Dick courageously climbed up the rickety fisherman’s ladder to free them and thirdly, I set off up the wrong line on the top pitch.

After Dick returned home, I met a young Swiss woman who, like me, was without a climbing partner. I took her on Magical Mystery Tour, leading all the pitches, a perfect (pitch perfect) trouble-free ascent. A day or so later we began a romantic interlude and when I asked her what was the point at which she first thought we might “get it together”, she replied: “ At the top of Magical Mystery Tour”. Ah, the pulling power of climbing!

5. Vector *** Tremadog. Was this my first E2 5C?

This climb was made memorable by another’s intransigence. My then girlfriend (not the Swiss woman) and I were camping at Portmadog for the weekend. We had had rather a lot to drink the night before and I woke up with a mighty hangover and to sweltering heat. I remember reaching the climb bathed in sweat and feeling quite ill.

However, I somehow and rather miraculously found my way up the ochre slab, by the skin of my teeth (or, more precisely, by the tiniest smear of my rubber)

to, what I remember as, a very welcoming, comfortable stance. As my partner arrived and I made her safe, I began taking gear off my harness, only for her to say “What do you think you’re doing? You’ve got to be joking! I’m not leading the next pitch.” My heart sank, having thought my work was pretty much over for the day and yet I would have to summon up extra reserves to lead the steep and tricky 5b pitch. My partner was a steady 5b climber but she remained obdurate. I embarked on the top pitch with some trepidation but found a neat solution to the 5b move and soon reached the stance.

As my partner arrived at the top of the pitch, I thanked her profusely for refusing to lead the final pitch, thus allowing me to lead the whole route, as I was then feeling thoroughly satisfied with what I had already designated as one of my desert island climbs.

6. Sirplumb E1 5b *** Cheedale

With the same girlfriend/climber, I’m afraid, though she will remain anonymous,

on a fabulous airy climb, not that difficult if you have the oomph and confidence to attack the crux. I belayed with some satisfaction and looked out across the valley to a lovely sunlit meadow where a family was enjoying a languid, summer picnic.

I was, thus, perplexed, and not a little disturbed, to see all the family members looking up uneasily towards the buttress, then getting to their feet and beginning to wave at me in a distressed fashion. I had given my partner a tight rope, but then began taking the rope in and eventually she emerged, screaming profanities at me, such as “Why the f… did you bring me up this. You know it’s just the kind of f…… climb that I f…….-well hate!”

I then realised, to my horror, that whilst I couldn’t hear a thing at the top of the crag, the poor family across the way had heard all the expletives (undeleted) that she was discharging on the way up, thus spoiling their bucolic bliss. A great climb, though.

As a postscript, my girlfriend and I had another almighty row on an ”almost” Desert Island Climb, Blue Sky at Saddle Head. At that point we resolved not to climb together again, as it was too dangerous, though our relationship continued to limp on for a little while longer.

7. Headline E1 5b *** Lundy

I guess there has to be an island climb and Lundy’s not a bad island to choose a route from (a bit like picking a Joni Mitchell track on Desert Island Discs- mine would be “A Case of You”).

This one’s a little bit obscure, way up north in Arch Zawn, but it stays in my memory for a couple of reasons.

I was on a honeymoon, not mine but my friends, Krishna & Lizzy’s, and we were staying in the commodious and rather romantic setting of the Old Light. Secondly I was, unfortunately, with a most uncongenial climbing partner. I won’t id him, as some of you might know him (clue: he used to be known as Mad John).

However, one fine sunny afternoon, we went to Arch Zawn and I climbed this gorgeous route on perfect rock, at just the right grade for me at the time and in a lovely, isolated setting.

I seem to remember that I went a little over the top in the Marisco Tavern climbing log, after a few Puffin Ales, describing it as “better than sex” – a bit of an exaggeration, though not by much.

8. The Old Man of Stoer VS 5a

During the 2001 foot and mouth outbreak, when my mate Dick & I had tired of Wharncliffe Edge and running around the footpaths of Sheffield, we decided drastic action was called for, so as soon as we had voted in the General Election on Thursday 7th June, we headed north.

We may have climbed at Reiff on the way there (or on the way back) but our aim was the old Man of Stoer. (Dick had climbed The Old Man of Hoy some years previously, so this was second on his list of the triumvirate.)

We stayed overnight at the hostel in beautiful Achmelvich Bay, and got up to a fine, clear west coast morning. When the warden heard we were going to climb the Old Man, he was incredulous, telling us we probably wouldn’t be able to get to the stack anyway, as there would be foot and mouth restrictions. However, after a leisurely breakfast, we set off, didn’t come across any prohibitions on the walk in and headed down the cliff.

We made the crossing in the time-honoured way – Dick stripping off, tying on to our spare rope and swimming across to the stack. We quickly got the bin bag of clothes across on the rope, followed by the gear bag, without dipping them in the swell. I stripped off, tied on and followed, quickly donning my spare clothes and we were soon geared up and ready to go.

Dick set off on the tricky leftwards traverse and was soon at the stance. After that it was plain sailing all the way, including the two abseils. We reversed our sea crossing and headed back to the hostel. We got back mid-afternoon, and were greeted by the warden saying “Och, so you didn’t get up it, then?” He was most impressed when we told him that we’d been up and off in a couple of hours. However, we were more impressed by the cyclist who had just arrived, fully laden, having cycled from Glasgow. Now, that seemed to us to be proper hard core.

In later years we tried to get on to Am Buachaille by rubber dinghy - not the best idea I’ve ever floated.

On another occasion, Hug, Jon Cowley and I got to the stance at the top of the first pitch of the Old Man of Hoy. Hug set off round the corner to the bottom of the groove, only to return with a grim report of the state of slimy greenness he had been confronted by.

Still, one down and just two to go. A post-viral road trip anyone?

The book: Into The Silence by Wade Davies

An easy choice, this is a monumental work of historical research, whilst still being a compelling read. It’s big and beefy and full of detail. It documents the lives of the participants of the Great War, including Mallory, Bruce and Somervell, who went on to take part in the three British attempts on Everest in the 1920s.

If anyone’s interested I can lend them a disinfected copy of this magnum opus (650 pages).

Luxury Item: Am I allowed beer? If so, it will have to be a beer from my favourite brewery, the Pictish Brewing Company (even though they’re based in Lancashire). An ample supply of Brewer’s Gold, please.

Tony May's Infamous 5 Failures.

Five Heroic (?) Failures

My failures are legion, ranging from the debacle on the Peñon, when my friend Geoff and I had to be rescued; through the air miles I redeemed on Scoop Wall; to the humiliation of asking for a top rope when I bottled out of the last moves of Right-Hand Tower (thank goodness there were three of us at the crag that day); not to mention the doomed amphibious assault on Am Buachaille.

However, my first thought when asked to consider memorable failures was of an obscure HVS 5a at Stanage that I’ve embarked on several times (honestly, I can’t remember how many) and been repulsed each time. The route description goes like this: “The steep, wide crack is difficult to enter and not that easy to escape from”. I’ve never got beyond the “difficult to enter” bit. Any ideas which route (and please don’t say it’s a doddle)?

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Gerry Langsley

1. The Cullin Ridge Traverse (August 1961) Graded Difficult for the hardest pitches (TD Gap, IN Pin and BhasteirTooth (Naismith’s Route) at the time

After climbing in Glencoe and on Ben Nevis for a few days, Charles (Lowe) and I decided to move over to Skye. A full day was needed to get there from Fort William along the tortuous single track road to Kyle of Lochalsh for the ferry to Skye and we were well pleased to pitch a tent at Sligachan after a quick pint in the bar before it closed at 9.30 pm. After a damp traverse of the pinnacle ridge of Sgurr nan Gillian, and a traverse of Am Bhasteir and the Bhasteir Tooth in the rain we moved our tent to Glen Brittle and checked out the round of Coire Lagan and did a couple of routes around the Cioch on Sron na Ciche in the still inclement weather. Then one morning we got out of our tent at 9 am to a beautiful sunny day with a cloudless blue sky and decided after a rushed breakfast to set off for Gars-bheinn to see how far we could get along the traverse of the whole ridge. We arrived at the top just before midday and stopped for a drink of water and a bite to eat. We then set off along the ridge to the infamous TD gap. We abseiled in with some trepidation and then climbed out the other side with some sense of relief as we had not been here before. The rope was then put away and we traversed peak after peak, soloing chimneys and ridges until we reached the Inaccessible Pinnacle. We roped up for the easy ridge was we expected to need the rope for the abseil down the shorter but more difficult side but to our surprise there were three people on top, the first people we had seen all day, and they had already fixed an abseil rope which they allowed us to use. The next few peaks were very easy scrambling and our spirits rose but then came the peaks of Bidein Druim nan Ramh! Here the route finding was complex, even in good weather, but after some mistakes and reversals we emerged unscathed. At this point we began to think that we might actually reach the end before nightfall as we rushed over Bruach na Frithe to the bottom of the Bhasteir Tooth. We were now on ground we had covered before and so we had no problems with route finding on Naismith’s Route and as luck would have it we met two more people descending the difficult step above and we had no problem with using their rope to aid our ascent of Am Bhasteir! We finally reached the summit of Sgurr nan Gillean at 7.30 pm feeling elated but too knackered to finish down the Pinnacle Ridge and so followed the tourist route down to the bar where we celebrated with beer and whisky! We then cadged a lift back to Glen Brittle with a couple of well oiled climbers who insisted on trying to run down one of the many rabbits that were dashing across the road! It was with a great feeling of satisfaction that we went to bed and the next morning when we got up (late) to the sound of rain falling on the tent we realized how lucky we had been with the weather It had been a truly memorable day which I can still recall quite vividly. Needless to say all the rock climbing was done in big boots!

2. The Curved Ridge of Buachalle Etive Mor (February 1964) Grade: Easy but covered in snow and ice

We had travelled from Leeds to Glencoe overnight in a coach organised by the university climbing club and, after a prolonged traditional pub stop on route, arrived at The Kingshouse where we were going to camp as dawn was breaking. Four of us (Rodger and myself, and Pete with someone else) set off immediately, after dumping our camping gear for later, for the Buachalle. After some confusion as to where we were, we set off up the snow bound Curved Ridge which proved to be quite difficult under the wintery conditions, mainly because we had no crampons, thinking that our nailed boots and wooden handled ice axes and peg hammers would be good enough (foolish virgins)! It was really after climbing the ridge to the foot of the Crowberry Tower that the climb became memorable as we kicked or cut steps up hard snow slopes around and above the tower. The day had been sunny and as the sun began to set we saw the alpenglow become more and more pink on the surrounding snow covered hills, producing a truly magical effect that I can still bring back to mind to this day. Full dark overtook us on the summit but the gods were with us as it was a cloudless night with an almost full moon to light our way down the east side of the mountain. It was almost like being a different magical world.

3. Sunset Slab, Froggatt Edge (April 1964) Grade: vs

It was an unpromising day with a light drizzle as we (John Gregory, Joe Harvey and myself) walked from the Cioch Hut in Stoney Middleton up to Froggatt Edge. On arrival everything looked very green, damp and uninviting but we had come to climb and so climb we did. I for some unexplained reason elected to do Sunset Slab which was thought to be very easy for the grade if you were wearing PAs and off I went from the very bottom of the slab (now known as direct start). It was wet and slippery as hell but provided you kept your weight on your feet properly it wasn’t too bad. Even so, at half height I attempted to fit a drilled-out nut in the diagonal crack on the right but without success. The traverse on the sloping, wet-lichen covered ledges to the base of the finishing groove without hand holds was particularly memorable, and even the easy groove seemed very slippery, though not as bad as the traverse. I was certainly relieved to finally reach the ledge at the top and bring up the others, but I must admit to a feeling of real satisfaction at having overcome such a slippery piece of rock. It had been a real mind game and I don’t think I had the mental reserve to lead anything else that day!

4. Dimai – Comici – Dimai Route on the N Face of the Cima Grande (Summer 1964) Grade: VI

Our trip to the Dolomites was eventful in that after doing a few routes on the Cinque Torre, John (Cooper) and I went round to The Civetta were we climbed the Torre di Valgrande by way of the Carlosso Menti (grade VI) but not without me managing to take a 30 foot fall when a peg came out with no intervening runners so, after knocking John’s helmet off on the way past I left him to hold me with a waist belay as I plummeted past him over the lip of the overhang below. A strong man was John! We then finished the route and I don’t think I touched another peg all the way to the top. That episode put an end to our main objective, the Comici, because John’s hands were quite badly burned. Then Dave Cording appeared on his own so we joined forces to do The Comici. All went well tor the first few pitches and then there was a dog-leg pitch which went up, traversed quite a long way left and then went up again. Dave led this pitch with little trouble and belayed and started to take in the slack, letting a long loop of slack down the wall which, on encountering the rope on the traverse, tied itself into an enormous knot which refused to untie itself when pulled from above or below. So, with about 20 feet of rope still to be taken in I set of to follow the pitch feeling, especially in view of my fall a few days earlier, rather insecure! That sense of insecurity increased in direct proportion to the length of the loop of slack between me and the knot. However, all came good in the end and we continued alternating pitches right to the top. Again it was a very satisfying day out which I still recall vividly. The holiday hadn’t finished with us yet though, as the car broke down on the way home and we had to be towed off the Autobahn into Cologne for repairs!

5. Sin, Stoney Middleton (September 1962) Grade(at the Time) : Exceptionally Severe

This, along with Froth, was supposedly the hardest route on Stoney. Having done Froth the weekend before, knocking lots of rock off on the way, we decided to have a go at Sin. The climbing was easy to the foot of the groove, but the groove itself was covered in loose and fragile rock for bridging on and the corner crack was full of dirt and soil leaving little room for my drilled-out nut runners ! To say the route was precarious is an understatement. After all our climbing on gritstone and igneous rock it was in a different league. I did manage to top out but I am sure the pile of fallen rock at the bottom must have been very high indeed. Still it was an exceptionally severe tick (what a pity it’s now just a normal vs). Memorable really only because of the grade it was given at the time.

6. Manzoku, Stennis Head Grade: E1

It was on my second visit to Pembroke with Bruce Andrew that I first went to Stennis head and looked up at Manzoku, and I could not resist it. The situation was brilliant, way above the calm sea where the seals were playing, and the sky above was a brilliant blue. The climbing is straightforward enough but the first few feet are a little unprotected above a very hard limestone landing. It is then that you realise that this wall is vertical as the forearms begin to get pumped. However adequate holds keep appearing and all too soon the top is in site, but the top part of the crack continues to give good value all the way. A route that truly lives up to its id Manzoku (Satisfaction in Japanese). However there are so many other brilliant routes on Pembroke limestone to chose from.

7. Homo Sapiens, Symplegades, Kalymnos (October 1965) Grade: 6c

I had followed this route a few years earlier and was very impressed. It has everything, a steep start, a slabby bit and an imposing arête and wall to finish. So I was determined to do it this time round. We went Symplegades early, but not early enough, to be ahead of the crowds and Mike Waters led the route as his warm up with me holding the rope. Well, the clips were in and so I had to have a go. The overhang went OK, the slabby bit went OK but the arête seemed to go on and on and I failed to make the step out right onto the final easier wall! Damn, another failure! After doing a couple of easier routes however I decided to try it again (cheating I know to repeat the attempt the same day but what the hell). This time of course I had to put my own clips in and again the overhanging start went OK, the slabby bit went OK and this time the arête didn’t seem to go on quite so much and I did manage to step out right onto the final wall and so, jubilant, I reached the top. It really is a great route. But all the more satisfying for having grabbed success out of failure!

8. Exo6, Masson Lees (August 2008) Grade: 7a

This is a semi-artificial route in that several of the finger holds have been glued on! However, it is a fine line up a steep wall and after clipping it up and top roping it on several occasions before I finally decided that the day had come to lead it. I even attempted to put the clips in on lead but faltered near the top where the hand holds were a bit damp and slippery. After a rest I did get all the clips in and I lowered off. Now, the clips that were in were all mine so after a quite long rest I set off to red point the route, and this time I was successful, possibly because the damp holds had dried out a little. It was very satisfying to lead a 7a (I haven’t done many of those) and this one felt worth the grade, and it was also very satisfying to get all my quick-draws back!

9. Ordinary Route, Idwal Slabs (November 1991) Grade: Diff

Nobby and myself had gone down to Wales to do some climbing but the rain was coming down (how unexpected) so we elected to go for a walk over the Glyders and back down over Tryfan. We trudged up the track to Llyn Idwal and then rather that trudging up the steepish path we decided that we would solo the ordinary route up the slab and then by-pass the holly tree wall and follow the continuation ridge to the top. I was wearing mountain boots but Nobby had only floppy walking boots and so elected to change into rock boots. I set off while Nobby was changing footwear and was about a hundred feet above him when he stated climbing. All went well and I had done the rather insecure moves to the right around a little nose near the top when the heavy rain turned to heavy snow. In a matter of seconds the slab was white over, and where I was on the easy ground and wearing big boots this was no problem as I could easily grip through the thin layer of wet snow. After a couple of seconds I thought “where is Nobby” and looked down. He had just reached the delicate moves right around the bulge, and as he was wearing rock boots with slick soles, he dare not life them of the bit of just wet rock he was standing on. We had no rope or gear with us at all and the situation looked grim! Nobby told me afterwards that he could see the newspaper heading the next day “Ill Equipped Old Farts Rescued (or worse). Fortunately for us the snow then turned back to rain and washed the settled snow off the slab and we both reached the top of the slab in one piece. We then continued with our walk which seemed to be a bit of an anti-climax.


Favourite Book: The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy (Omnibus Ed) by Douglas Adams

It always makes me smile

Luxury: A life size picture of Eileen so that we can sit and talk together at dinner whilst grimacing at the taste of my home made wine!

 

The Desert Islandf Climbs of John Graveling

Having read the contributions so far, I’m very conscious that Cath and I are certainly not in the Premier League here – rather the Fourth Division – as we are neither Mountaineers or Alpinistes nor hard trad climbers and certainly have not been climbing as long as some of you old farts. Nevertheless, accepting that JJ’s challenge is going to separate the Men from the Boys – and we certainly fall into the latter category – I have managed to come up with a list of climbs which, for reasons both good and bad, remain strong in the memory. So, for what they are worth :-

1. The Old Man of Hoy

Trip made in Spring 1972 with Rod Haslam and wives and is probably my most memorable as the whole trip was way outside my limited experience – the long drive up North, the 2 sea crossings and loading our small car – by crane - on the boat to Hoy and then the sheer beauty of the remote island itself. We camped in the grounds of the old school and from there trekked across to the cliff top where we got our first – and stomach-churning - sight of the pinnacle in all its 400 odd ft glory. We actually had a trouble-free ascent apart from having to fight off the occasional vomiting fulmar and the rather worrying realisation that, on the final pitch, a crack, you could see right through to the other side. The descent was a slightly different matter as it took us longer to get down than up and, in the process, we had to abandon a jammed rope.

Looking back, I am amazed at our naivete and lack of awareness of the problems our lack of experience would have caused us had we run into difficulties in such a remote location.

2. Coronation Street, Cheddar Gorge – 390ft. E1.

Climbed in 1968 with best mate, Charles McCombie, and South African, Paul Fatti (who is now eminent in S.African climbing circles). My first real taste of a (bigish) multi-pitch route – I know, doesn’t quite compare with Dick T’s biggies, does it?

However, managed to avoid dropping any large rocks on some rich knob’s fancy car – unlike the TV spectacular. Probably an all-time British classic and a great one to have in the bag.

3. Traverse of the Gods, Swanage – 2000ft. VS (E1).

A real expedition involving climbing, tyroleans and even a swim across a zawn to finish, done with Charles McC. Memorable for 2 reasons – just as we had stripped naked for the swim across the zawn, a small family yacht (parents and kids) sailed round the corner and, not believing what they saw, persisted in sailing back and forth to get a better view. We had to pretend that being naked on a cliff ledge in the middle of nowhere was the most natural thing in the world. Having survived that embarrassment, we emerged from the water and as we were drying off, we heard - what I believe was a chorus of admiring whoops - and on looking up, we then

realised we were in full view of a clifftop audience - a coach party of elderly ladies!! Well, I maintain it was admiration – mind you, the water was very cold!

4. Spinor, Avon Gorge -150ft. E3

I had met Ed Ward-Drummond (as he was styled then) through a Bristol University friend, Chris Woodhead, who had done some new routes with him. For reasons I cannot remember (but which may have had something to do with the fact that Chris had made the first ascent with E.W-D and felt that once was enough!), I found myself one Saturday morning, tying on to a rope with him as he repeated his recent first ascent of the route which was, then, regarded as one of the hardest at Avon. Nice to reflect that I had met and climbed with him – and found him a pleasant, amenable guy – before he became such a divisive figure within the climbing world.

5. GT Special, Suspension Bridge Buttress. Avon Gorge - 190ft. E3.

My one and only new route !! – done on joint leads with Bob Teale (hence the id) in Sept 1969. I am afraid that we used quite a bit of aid when making the first ascent but this was not eliminated until 1976 – which makes me feel a bit better about our performance. Once it was over, there was great relief and no thought about repeating it. However, looking back, perhaps we could have gone back and, with our prior know knowledge, reduced the aid.

Autograph, anyone??

6. Royal Arches, North Side, Yosemite. 2000ft - 5.7A1 or 5.9.

In 1997, met up with some of Charles McC’s old American climbing friends, including Art McGarr and Turtle Dave (don’t ask!), for a trip to Yosemite and Lovers Leap near Lake Tahoe.

Royal Arches, first done in 1936, ranks as one of Yosemite’s all-time classics. This 17 pitch route was a real outing for someone weaned on single pitch climbing. Difficulty not too hard, some odd moves like using a rotten tree trunk bridge and a fantastic position. Descent was by continuous abseiling back down the route (the so-called “Rappel Piste”) – which really was the most frightening part of the whole trip! However, all in all, a great experience.

7. Suicide Wall, Cratcliffe Tor. 28m – HVS 5b.

One of those times when something good comes rather unexpectedly.

Cath and I had planned a summer evening visit to Cratcliffe but I was feeling a bit under the weather and not really up to climbing. However, the weather was too good to stop at home so off we went. Feeling marginally better when we arrived, I thought, “now we are here, we might as well have a crack at something”. Not sure how it happened but we found ourselves on Suicide Wall, Harding’s classic from the 1940s. And it went like a dream as Cath and I emulated PJH and Ronnie Lee’s first ascent. What a great tonic that proved to be.

8. Via Missing Link, Raco del Corv, Sierra de Toix, Costa Blanca – 135m. 6b+

According to Rockfax, one of the Top 50 routes on the Costa Blanca – and I wouldn’t disagree. Done on a beautiful Spring day with a party of mates and led by an intrepid Jim Shackleton, it could not have been a more perfect outing. An easy 1st pitch leads to an amazing situation with the 2nd pitch traversing out – with not a great deal of protection - just above the sea to a hanging stance. The 3rd and crux pitch is steep and strenuous but, fortunately, well blessed with holds. We missed out the final scramble to the top and abseiled back to the beach. Well chuffed with having done such a fantastic route, it was back to the villa, to relax and reflect on it in the sunshine… with mucho cerveza!!

Book – as I am a logophile, copy of the OED

Luxury - I’m with Chris J here – a tanned young lady with a palm fan and a bunch of grapes would be ideal but, failing that, an endless supply of wine gums.

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Adey Hubbard.

My list is memorable to me for all sorts of reasons. Most I would definitely repeat (if I could still haul my slightly larger body up them) but one is there to remind me never to do the same again …… under any circumstances. So how did a lad from Peterborough, without transport other than a trusty (rusty) bike, get into rock climbing? I learnt to climb in 1969 with a mate from the school’s boarding house, whose dad happened to be in the Glencoe rescue team and who gave him a hawser rope, a couple of slings with steel screwgates and a couple of pegs. We top-roped on two sandstone railway bridges that had become redundant in 1929 and were used by the Peterborough Mountaineering Club. Yes! The Fens do have such a club and they own a hut in Bethesda.

1. Plate Glass Slab – Stanage (S)

My first ever climb on actual rock in the 1970 Easter holiday, wearing bendy walking boots, woolly breeches, an ex-army anorak and a bobble hat. We soloed this, on account of there being no runners – and we didn’t possess any, apart from the two slings. It wasn’t as slippery as it is now and I’ve often wondered, on subsequent soloes in sticky shoes, how we didn’t seriously injure ourselves. Would I repeat it now? Probably not – too polished. Why this route? Well, having walked all the way from Sheffield station, it was the nearest one to the road that looked vaguely like our bridge. We spent the weekend in the cave. We did Black Hawk Hell Crack the same weekend because the guidebook said there were a couple of good threads we could get our slings around. True but that left belaying? After this we formed a school mountaineering club and persuaded our Chemistry teacher, who turned out to be a keen walker, to drive us up to the Peaks a couple of times a term. We would go to the Eastern Edges and he and his wife would walk on Kinder etc. It was all so much easier to sort out then.

2. Bluebell Cracks – Dinas Mot (V. Diff)

Having bought a longer rope, a helmet and some Moacs and other bits from Joe Brown’s postal service in early 1971, we felt that mountains were the thing to go for. We had read all the books in Peterborough library so we knew that on big cliffs, according to Modern Mountaineering by Showell Styles, you had to haul your rucksack. A trip to Timothy White’s secured a nice long washing line and we were off. A lengthy train trip via Birmingham and Bangor finally led us to Humphrey’s campsite in the Pass. We thought that we needed to sort out this rope hauling malarkey and that Bluebell Cracks would be just the thing. The first pitch went well so I got belayed on a couple of flakes and a Moac and set about taking in the ropes. We had decided that hauling the sack first was the way to go and this was when I discovered that, although Mr. Styles had made it all sound deceptively simple, it most certainly wasn’t. Half an hour later, with the washing line totally entangled round the climbing rope and our butties and flask of tea suspended 30 feet up the first pitch, Hamish felt that he should untie and do a bit of untangling. Sometime later in the afternoon we had managed to get the sack back to terra firma, I had jettisoned the blasted washing line, and we completed the climb. Sitting at the base and looking across at the Cromlech etc, we realised that the other “real” climbers did not appear to have washing lines, or rucksacks, and were making rather more rapid progress than we had managed. We had a revelatory conversation with some of the “real” climbers back at the campsite and, next day, walked to Browns in Capel Curing to buy ourselves some EBs. Flying Buttress and Crackstone Rib the next day were a lot more efficient and we had got to the dizzy heights of Sabre Cut by the end of the week.

3. Original Route – High Tour (HVS 5a)

Moving to Matlock College in 1973, chosen because it was the nearest one to climbing – Bangor and Ambleside were the other options, opened up a whole new world. By now I had a double kernmantel ropes, a lot more hardwear and a much wider range of people to climb with. This was my first foray into harder climbs and I really enjoyed getting the brilliant gear placements up the flake and the positions on the face. As per the guide we belayed on the ledge, which I never bothered with on subsequent ascents, and then took the direct finish above. HVS had become the new norm. Onwards and upwards.

4. Lyme Cryme – High Tor (E3 5c,5b)

Included because it is a brilliant route and the only major one in which I can claim to have had a creative hand. I had attempted the line as an aid route a year or two earlier but was defeated by three repulsive rawl bolts which were bending in the breeze. The same problem was very evident when Steve attempted to free the first pitch which is when, with a bolt and star drill from Jim Ballard, the cardinal sin of placing a free-climbing bolt on High Tor took place. Turns out the bolt was crap but it provided the psychological boost for him to do the first pitch. We returned for the top pitch, much easier with just a pull over a small bulge on reasonable finger locks to provide a little spice, the following day.

5. Eperon Sublime – Verdon Gorge (E2, 5c with 2 points then)

The first route I did in the gorge in 1981 and memorable for a host of reasons; the pant-filling abseil with a knot the size of a football in the end of the ropes, being delayed by a team of Germans, the hand-traverse above the void and nearly passing out through dehydration (because of the Germans). A simply wonderful climb with deep cracks in the first few pitches, THAT traverse, the steep wall above, and the ability to wave at the girls who deigned to come and see what we were up to.

6. Yankee Doodle – Land’s End (E2, 5b)

Easter 1981 in West Penwith led to several excellent climbs at Bosigran, Carn Gowla (should have included one of those perhaps], Chair Ladder and Sennen Cove but this one sticks in my mind because it was really good and has fallen down so, if you haven’t done it yet, tough. It started from a tidal platform to the right of Longships Wall, up for a few feet to a fingery couple of moves left which turned out to be the crux, into a long crack. Sometimes solid finger jams, sometimes solid hand jams and the occasional harder move, always with good gear and continuously vertical, it continued at around 5a/5b to a pull out onto the right arête at the top. Slight waves and Longships lighthouse across a Mediterranean blue sea made the whole experience perfect. Who needs Kalymnos?

7. Eichorn’s Pinnacle – Cathedral Peak, Tuolomne (5.4)

Bill W. has a thing about pinnacles and this was on his list. I’m glad it was! We had a day trip to Tuolomne from Yosemite with the girls and, as Bill had done Cathedral Peak before with Bill G. we all walked along the Cathedral Lakes trail until below the col on the ridge above. Leaving the ladies to continue to the lakes we flogged up grade II slabs to the col and set up for the pitches to the top. The climbing seems to be nothing special until the end of the traverse flake, when the full drop of the west pillar suddenly appears below. Bill was so taken with it, and the fact that he had only gone 15 metres or so, that he forgot to belay and carried on to the top. So that left me seconding the 5.4 climbing, which was fine. The summit is just large enough for two and the views across the lakes to the west, Yosemite in the far distance and the high sierra to the north, east and south are simply spectacular. Being there, with a good mate, was great. The descent required a short abseil back to the col and a reverse of the way up which, unfortunately, was not so easy to follow on the way down. Somehow we found ourselves in the woods, scrambling up and down fallen trees and through dense undergrowth, wondering whether there would be rattlers etc at those altitudes. However we found our way back to the girls, somewhat hot and bothered but otherwise relatively intact, having not encountered any bears. Although by no means the hardest route we did on the trip it did get us to the most spectacular place I had been to in years. A good spot to be recently retired.

8. Ichabod (E2 5c, 4c & Phoenix E1 5b,5b) – Scafell East Buttress

In 1987 we moved to Kendal for my work and I teamed up with a colleague at the same school who, despite weighing somewhat more than I do now, turned out to be a very good ice climber and no slouch on rock either. We did both these on a lovely May day around 1990. Ichabod is steady with a quite technical 5c section moving right from a niche into a corner crack. This continues, a little easier at 5a/5b, to a belay from where a 4c crack leads to the top. The top of Mickledore Chimney descent is a scramble away.

Phoenix starts from the same place but takes the left-hand crack. It is not technically as hard as Ichabod but, from the moment you pull round the overhung flake into the main crack, is continuously steep hand and finger jamming to a sort of rest, then more of the same to belay on a ramp. It was a drained climber who belly-flopped onto the belay. Dave led through and, although the grade is supposed to be the same, it felt a whole lot easier than the first 100 feet had done. We celebrated with a quick ascent of The Centaur before a pint in The Golden Rule on the way home.

Favourite Book: Gormeghast by Mervyn Peake

Luxury Item: Hair Brush (really? Ed)

 

Adey Hubbard's Infamous 5 Failures

1. Gogarth – Gogarth Main Cliff: October half-term1974. Gloriously sunny day so shorts & t-shirt with route on a bit of paper. No problem until at the top of the easy groove. Storm charged in, hurricane blew, rain deluged, washed off top pitch, waves breaking over the first pitch pinnacle. Darkness rapidly approaching. Vaguely aware that Cordon Bleu came in from the right so set off blindly and two harassed climbers eventually made it to terra firma. Done it a couple of times since – all very lovely.

2. Flaky Wall – High Tor: Several attempts in the mid-1970s, having done pretty much everything else on the crag at the time. Just could not make the pull over the initial bulge to get onto the wall. The lack of a halfway decent runner in the flake wasn’t helping the confidence and the final proper attempt ended in a mighty swing. We never did do it.

3. Sulphur City – Pic Tor: Going well and this was the final route of the day with Bill, Chris & Bob Conway. Lovely small pocket pulling until a tendon snapped with a crack like a pistol shot, sending me airborne complete with a flappy finger end. Haven’t gone back.

4. Observatory Ridge – Ben Nevis: With Bill W. after a number of good winter climbs in Glencoe. We could have chosen almost anything in excellent conditions but, as neither of us had done this ridge it was the “obvious” choice. Big mistake as brilliant neve everywhere else became unconsolidated powder on the ridge. We took about 4 hours on the first two pitches, followed by another two failing to get either up the upper ridge or into Zero Gully. After a very sketchy abseil we made it back to Fort William and managed to scrounge a bowl of soup by way of dinner at the Ballachulish Hotel.

5.0Central Gully – Stob Coire nam Beith: This time with Chris. We started too late but annoyed 150m or so of brilliant ice flow. Then Chris led a really technical groove to a crap belay. I was struggling to exit the thinly iced cave above and we decided we were running out of time. Chris set up an abb off a downward pointing blade peg, halfway in, and a small wire backup. I checked the ropes were running, removed the backup and followed down very gingerly. All good so far. The ropes began to pull down then locked solid, probably the knot stuck in a crack below the peg. Not a chance of reclimbing the groove so we had to solo out over ice, decaying veg and unconsolidated crap into Broken Gully to get off. That night we had to move Chris’s camper van in the early hours so the helicopter could land to rescue a party benighted coming off Aonach Eagach. Next day I purchased two new 9mm ropes from Nevisport.


The Desert Island Climbs of Mike Mortimer.

1. Monte Agner, North Face (Jori) 1500m 5+/6-

I climbed this with Ron Lake in July 1968. Ron was keen to do it because several strong British parties had been repulsed, including Paul Nunn who nearly drowned in the main chimney when caught in a storm. We kept out of the chimney almost entirely and found the rock to its left to be predominantly excellent but with sparse protection and no in situ pegs. We started from the valley (what was then the incredibly romantic and unspoiled Val di San Lucano), having spent the night in a hay-loft, and climbed the fifty or so pitches to a bivouac on the shoulder just below the summit.

2. Marmolada, South Face (Gogna) 800m 6/6+ with one pitch of 7 in the upper part

I did this in 1996 with Derek Walker when he was 60. Times and attitudes were quite different to those in 1968; whereas Ron and I carried full bivvy gear, hammer and pegs and climbed in rigid mountain boots, we eschewed even rucksacks and wore modern rock shoes carrying trainers for the descent down the glacier on the North side. We knew that we had no chance if we did not travel ultra-light. As promised the lower half had steep near perfect rock with good protection but the upper part was quite loose with only a few pegs in place. The afternoon storm served to banish the blazing sun and we reached the summit with enough daylight to cope with the disintegrating ice on the descent.

3. Les Rochers des Presles, Fhara Kiri 250m TD+

Marjorie and I have done most of the classic routes at Presles which are 6b+ or easier but usually with a few points of aid especially when we tired near the top. Fhara Kiri stands out because we called there on our way home, after ten days in the South, when we were quite fit. The weather was unsettled and it had snowed the day we arrived. However, the wind was northerly and we set off next morning in brilliant sunshine; the foot of the crag has its own micro-climate and I thought about leaving my fleece behind. We moved quickly and I almost free-climbed a 6c+ pitch, the only time I pulled on a peg that day. We finished the last few pitches in a blizzard but amazingly the rock stayed dry and I was very grateful for my fleece.

The route is idd after Bruno Fara who some of us have met on Kalymnos where he now lives with his (much younger) wife.

4. Stanage Edge, Calvary E4 6a

In my opinion one of the best routes in the Peak. The route finds its way up the easiest line on a fine buttress and has brilliant technical climbing all the way with a heart-stopping finish. The crux is a peculiar mantelshelf that seems impossible at first but if you are lucky you suddenly find that you have made it!

5. Greatend Crag, Nagasaki Grooves E4 6b

I had a few days climbing in the Lakes with Mike Owen in the Summer of 1986 and we did several hard routes such as the Cumbrian. When Marjorie and Elaine came up to join us I felt like striking out on my own so to speak. Borrowdale is one of my favourite Lakeland valleys and Nagasaki Grooves was now in my sights. I have to admit that I only got up it because when I made the hard moves leftwards I wanted to retreat but knew that I could not; I thought that it was better to fall off going on and somehow failed to let go. After that everything went well. Marjorie didn’t seem to have any trouble at all and when Mike led it he took a heel-hook in the middle of the crux (the bastard).

6. Craig Gogarth, Graduation Ceremony E4 6a

I would like to have chosen Citadel but when Marjorie and I did it we used a point of aid on the 6b pitch. Graduation Ceremony takes a line close to Citadel on the upper wall with characterful climbing to get there and in most ways is just as good. There was a party of three on Citadel who were clearly going to be benighted, but when Marjorie met them later they told her that the rock was illuminated by the lighthouse and just climbed in fits and starts.

7. Pavey Ark, Astra E2,5b

I always regarded Langdale as my second home and it made sense to choose a route on Pavey. Cruel Sister would be an obvious choice except in my eyes it is tainted by the tactics used on the first ascent which involved a peg and sling placed by abseil( how long is a sling? - rumour had it that after the ascent the sling was replaced with a much shorter one). Allan Austin refused to include it in his edition of the FRCC guide to Langdale. My chosen route is an Austin route and he did use a peg on the first ascent but the difference is that his route was climbed on sight and the peg placed on lead. I have done Astra five times and I still regard it as one of the best in the Lake District. The rock is immaculate on the two main pitches and the climbing is varied and technical with just sufficient boldness to give it spice. The first time I did it with Marjorie was one cold November day and we had a minor blizzard on the top pitch; the roughness of that crinkly Pavey rhyolite ensured that it was still climbable.

8. Pointe Gugliermina, South Face (Gervasutti) 600m 6-/A1

I climbed this magnificently-situated pillar in August 1969 with two fellow postgrads from Leeds University. The route is very attractive and the rock quite unusual for Mont Blanc granite giving nice balancy climbing with good natural protection until the rather brutal finish. The main problem is the long and somewhat arduous approach which is made more practical by a stay at the friendly and well appointed Franco Monzino hut. Unfortunately, we failed to wake up earlier enough to get to the start that day and found it necessary to wait at the Col de L’Innominata - to cross the Fresnay glacier with the sun on it would be suicidal. We lazed on the Col playing bridge and prepared a comfortable enough bivouac with Oggioni’s memorial watching over us.. One of our team of four decided that his problems back home were catching up with him and he baled out at that stage. Then followed a perfect night entertained as we were by a phenomenal electric storm which broke out over the Gran Paradiso. The crossing of the glacier before dawn was quite safe and we were so confident of the weather that we left all our bivouac gear at the foot of the pillar. The climb proved to be pure joy and we were back at the ledge with our gear in plenty of time to arrange the bivouac and cook a meal. Next morning we recrossed the glacier back to the Col de L’Innominata in perfect conditions. Such is the effect of the strong sun shining directly onto the glacier there was no sign of our tracks from the previous day. Another three hours and we were back at the camp-site in the Val Veni. “So ended the ascent of one of the most beautiful and the most difficult pure rock climbs of the Western Alps.” - G Gervasutti in Gervasutti’s Climbs.

Luxury item would be my Kann Personal Music Player with all its music loaded.

My book would be The Collected Poems of William Wordsworth.

Mike Mortimer's Infamous 5 Failures.

A Brush with Death on the Olan (Massif des Écrins)

After a good fortnight in the Bernese Oberland ticking off several great classics we moved to Chamonix where our luck and the weather changed very much for the worse. It was early on in our relationship and five days spent in torrential rain at Camping Les Drus, with Marjorie reading Watership Down, seemed a sufficient test of its durability. A move south in search of sun seemed in order. A quick ascent of the Voies des Parisiens on the Mont des Trois Becs proved that the enforced inactivity had not weakened our drive and so we headed for Valjouffrey on the south side of what was then known as the Dauphiné to British climbers. In those days that part of the massif had a remote and old-fashioned character that we found irresistible. The lack of both tourists and climbers combined with a pattern of agriculture little changed over the centuries added to the charm of Valjouffrey.

The Pic d’Olan was likened to the Drus by the famous French alpinist and guide book writer Lucien Devies. Whilst this might be stretching a point the north west face, as viewed from the Fond Turbat refuge, certainly looks the part with its steep upper section rising to twin summits and dominating a huge central couloir. The left hand summit is guarded by a bastion of steep sometimes overhanging rock which is reached by ascending the couloir, all in all about 1,000m. First climbed by Jean Couzy and Réné Desmaison in 1956 the route had had few ascents but had been repeated a couple of years before our attempt by Pete Boardman and Chris Fitzhugh.

An early start was imperative to avoid stone fall in the couloir and to give us a chance of avoiding a bivouac. As we left the hut the guardian asked us rather strangely to look out for a rucksack on the route. We had been led to believe that route finding was particularly tricky and so we were amazed to find ourselves quite high in the couloir after only a couple of hours. However, I did not like the sight of what lay ahead, especially as there was an obvious way up to the left. Marjorie suggested that we check the (AC) guidebook and sure enough it was clear that we should continue in the same line.

At first all went well and we were reassured by the sight of odd bits of gear but soon the occasional stone started to fall and we came across more gear that had clearly fallen from above. The stone fall increased in intensity despite the early hour and I realised that the party on the adjacent Gervasutti-Devies route must be fighting loose rock. Very soon it became obvious that sooner or later one of us would take a hit as there was nowhere to shelter and we had no alternative but to press on as quickly as possible. Against the odds we reached steep terribly shattered rock at the head of the couloir where there was some semblance of shelter but on the other hand no prospect of any security. I found a small ledge and after bringing Marjorie up found a tolerable nut placement a few feet higher up and tried to climb up the side of a large and very doubtful block. Very slowly it started to leave no reason for doubt and I jumped landing back on the ledge as the block went crashing down the gully. Amazingly the one good runner that I had found in this upper part of the couloir held and I escaped with a twisted ankle and bruised heel. The loss of the block revealed slightly better possibilities and soon I spotted a dubious-looking traverse line leftwards. Now, at least there was some chance of salvation and I very gingerly followed the traverse passing many flakes too dangerous to consider as runners but eventually I reached a stance with solid anchors. I was safe but still full of anxiety as Marjorie was some 30m to my right with every prospect of falling off clutching a large piece of rock. Just as I was about to say “climb” I heard that characteristic whine and instantly put my hand to my head as a rock hit it. My head spun and I nearly fainted. On inspecting the damage my left index finger seemed to be raw flesh with lots of blood and my helmet badly smashed. Marjorie had heard me cry out and had started to climb. I tried to sound reassuring and took in slowly as she inched her way as carefully as possible towards me. Eventually we were reunited but the situation looked grim. The major technical difficulties, all 500m of them were above us, I was in no fit state to climb overhanging rock and retreat was certainly not to be considered. After my head cleared I started to look around and became aware of a groove slanting up leftwards so we decided to take it. At first it seemed quite difficult although it was probably no more than IV and soon got easier. Now and again there were little patches of scree in which I was sure that I could see footsteps - Marjorie thought that I was hallucinating! Sure enough things got progressively easier and when I traversed round an edge there was a big cairn with a sling on it; we were at the foot of the classic north ridge and safe.

Back at the refuge at first the guardian was concerned about my finger but after I refused his offer of treatment with tincture of mercuric iodide, despite being assured of the certainty of amputation without it, he told us the story which, for obvious reasons, he had held back the night before. A few weeks earlier a young aspirant guide had made a solo attempt on the route and during an electric storm had fallen. His body was left hanging on the face and the recovery party had approached the face by the route that we had taken to get off - hence the prints in the scree. The great difficulties of reaching the body necessitated shooting the rope (I know this seems near impossible but we were assured that was what happened). The body fell into the couloir and so that explained the presence of the gear and also, as Marjorie told me afterwards, her finding a piece of brain.

Suitably chastened we descended the valley ignoring my injuries when we frequently stopped to pick the most heavenly raspberries that grew in profusion at the side of the path. We had lunch in an old farmhouse-cum-restaurant the like of which we have never seen before or since and set off for home.

Footnote 1

I visited Valjouffrey once more many years later. The old-worldliness had been banished by holiday homes, modern villas with stacks of black polythene silage bags in the closely manicured fields and, worst of all, there was no sign of the old farmhouse. I nearly wept.

Footnote 2

On one of our Easter holidays in the Vercors we stayed in a gîte where we shared a table with a mountain guide Guy Martin (sadly suffering from Parkinson’s) and his partner, the editor of one of the French climbing magazines. We spent all evening exchanging climbing experiences and eventually I told the above tale. He listened very carefully and became very pensive. I asked him if he knew about the young guide and did he know if my account was accurate. He confirmed the story and very slowly said “ Yes I knew him. He was my best friend and climbing partner.”

Footnote 3

The next edition of the AC guide had a corrected description of the route.


The Desert IslandClimbs of Darrell Small

 

Darrell

  1. Serenade arete, Bowles Rocks.

    I caught the climbing bug on Southern sandstone, being a London lad. Dad and his brother Uncle John took a 6 year old me to Toad rock where I would scramble around happily all day. Scout trips to Harrisons, High Rocks, Bulls Hollow and Bowles followed. As a teenager with a car borrowed from parents I could persuade friends to hold a rope. It’s hard to pick a favourite route from those days, but this is as good as it gets.

    Darrell

  1. My friend Pete on A Dream of White Horses, Gogarth, 1977.

    You may think of the SUMC as having something to do with Sheffield. For me it was the Southampton University Mountaineering Club, which taught me there was more to climbing than top roping at Bowles. After the exams in 1977, four of us jumped in my Citroen Ami (600cc of raw power!) and headed to North Wales to attempt some of those classic routes we’d read about. We did ‘Dream’ on my 20th birthday, an excellent present!

    Darrell

  1. Midi Plan Traverse, 1978.

    (Photo from many years later when Amanda and I skied the Vallee Blanche.)

    Some of the SUMC, despite being in their early 20’s, seemed to be proper mountaineers, with tweed breeches and big bushy beards. They spent their summers in Snell’s field or the Biollay. In 1978 I was persuaded to go with them. The Midi Plan was my introduction to Alpinism. I was roped to Steve who had done this sort of thing before. Somewhere on the descent of the Envers glacier the balling up of snow under my crampons got the better of me and I fell, sliding out of control and dragging Steve after me. I’d seen diagrams of ice axe braking and thought this might be a good time to try it! Eventually I came to a halt and clung on tight. Steve hurtled past me and came to rest at the end of our rope length. We made it, excellent.....aah....there’s blood squirting out of Steve’s hand!..... Scouts to the rescue again.... I had my First Aid badge....arterial bleeding from the palm..... make a fist round a big wadge of stuff (the clean hankies my mum made me carry at all times!)…..wrap a bandage tightly round the fist... elevate... makeshift sling of climbing tape...breathe, and continue. Well, we made it back to Chamonix hospital where Steve’s hand was sewn up. We think what happened was that as he fell past me he caught his hand on one of my crampons but who knows? Two days later a bunch of us were descending a gully, rained off the route, when I was hit on the side by a falling rock. More stitches at Cham hospital and a realisation that I wasn’t cut out for Alpinism.

Darrell

  1. Simon having survived La Demande, Verdon Why anyone would attempt a sunny 12 pitch Verdon route on a hot August day is anyone’s guess, but my then brother in law, Simon, and I were young and foolish. The first six pitches went ok, we were leading through efficiently until Simon started feeling dizzy. Yes, schoolboy error, not enough liquid. Amazingly enough I didn’t feel as bad as Simon so we rationed our water and continued. Going up seemed the better option as our wives would be waiting for us at the top. Suffice to say it was gruelling. A Friend 4 became my favoured handhold as I frigged my way up the remaining pitches, dragging a weakening Simon behind me. I wouldn’t want to repeat it but it was a very memorable day out!

Darrell

  1. Devil’s Tower, Wyoming

    This amazing lump of rock first came to my notice via the film ‘Close encounters of the third kind’. Some time in the mid Eighties my friend Dave and I took a climbing trip mainly to Colorado, but with a quick detour (800 mile round trip from Boulder) to Northern Wyoming. We arrived in the dark, slept in the car, and awoke to the stunning sight of this huge volcanic plug sticking up out of the plain. No epics this time, we did the easiest route and took plenty of water, but what a grand day out!

  1. The Old Man of Hoy (You all know what this looks like!)

    On the last day of the Summer term, 1990, I waved off my class, rushed home to pick up my then wife Liz and our friend Mark, then Mike Morrison from Stockport. We reached John o’Groats at about 2am, had a few hours kip, then caught whatever ferries were necessary to deposit us on Hoy sometime later that day. The Hoy taxi service seems to consist of anyone with a vehicle, so we were quite happy to pay a few quid for a ride in the back of a van, driven by a friendly chap who kept saying what a lovely day it was (well, it was only drizzling a bit!) Mike was the main force behind this venture, and one of the most efficient and well prepared climbers I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He very kindly led the route, seconded by Mark, but leaving strategic bits of gear in place for me to then lead, followed by Liz. Apart from a vomiting fulmar which left Liz with a very stinky sweatshirt everything went smoothly and we were on top with hours to spare. The abseil off was far scarier than the climb but once again, wow, what a memory! After a few pints in the nearest hostelry even sleeping in a cow shed didn’t seem too bad. The following day back on the mainland Mike and I dropped Liz and Mark off at the station so they could be back at work on Monday, then headed to Glencoe. The Old Man had been a superb start to a week of excellent Scottish climbing.

Darrell

  1. Lost Arrow, City of Rocks, Idaho

    Some years later, my gorgeous new girlfriend, Amanda, and I took a trip out west to visit City of Rocks, recommended to her by a colleague, a certain Sherri Davy. The id was coined by emigrants on the California trail, for whom it was a landmark resembling buildings rising out of the plain. We loved the place, camping in what felt like the middle of nowhere, with some of the best stargazing in the world. There are loads of great routes but a stand out one for us was the Lost Arrow (on the left of the photo). We took the original route, a two pitch 5.7, not too hard a climb but a great feeling to reach the top of this lovely pinnacle.

Darrell

  1. DNA, Grande Grotta, Kalymnos. (Should have worn a brighter T shirt!)

    We’ve now spent many euros on half a dozen or so increasingly large Kalymnos guide books but once upon a time there was just the Rockfax mini guide. It featured DNA on the cover. The rock looked amazing, we had to go. The rock was amazing, we had to go again, and again, and...let’s all hope... again!

The Desert Island Climbs of Cath Graveling


These are my most memorable climbs, the memory of which doesn’t necessarily always relate to the actual route itself, but the all round experience

  1. Chequers Buttress, Froggatt Edge. HVSThis used to be our local ! I have seconded it many times, but never lead it. The reason being – I was never totally confident that my left arm would quite reach round the left arete. Terrific views from the top.

  2. The Knight’s Move, Burbage North. HVS This used to be my “test piece” every spring, to see if I could still lead it. Really nice thoughtful balancey climb. Not sure if I would want to do it now …..

CathG


Photo is of Knight’s Move & Burbage on a quiet day!



3. Nutcracker, Manure Pile Buttress, Yosemite. 5.8, 5 pitches.

This route was done for an easier day, having done Royal Arches the day before. It was a lovely sunny day and there was a certain amount of giddiness amongst some of our team. We had also been railing against what we then perceived as the over- zealous attitude of the National Park (eg take your poo home in a plastic bag etc) . Our Swiss friends, Charlie & Stevie, had gone up first. John & I set off after them. I lead the final scramble to the top. When I topped out, I nearly fell off backwards, as I was greeted by the sight of Charlie & Stevie’s two bare bums mooning at me ! ( no photos available !) I’m not sure if they were just trying to surprise me or if they were trying to provoke the National Park “spies” !


4. Magical Mystery Tour, Sierra de Toix, Costa Blanca. 5/ HVS, 5 pitches

This is such an adventure ! It involves walking along the sea cliffs to try and find the correct descent and then abseiling down into space, past rusty old ladders that look long abandoned and knowing that you will have to get back up, somehow. Not really difficult but takes some route finding. Some bolts, and not v good ones at that !


5. El Navegante, Penon de Ifach, Costa Blanca. 7a, 8 pitches

I climbed this with John Fleming about 10 years ago . I hadn’t done any multi-pitch climbing for ages and didn’t sleep the night before for worrying about the gear, the technical difficulty, the weather, if I might need a wee on the route and so on. It turned out to be the perfect day, I lead the easier pitches & John lead the harder ones and we sailed up it. Topped out to the astonishment of the tourists on top of the Penon, and then popped into the Sailing Club for a drink afterwards.

6. The Dark Side of the Moon, Moon Hill, Yangshuo, China. 6b, 1 pitch

Moon Hill is a popular tourist attraction, idd because of the very pale rock and obvious moon-shaped cave. It is famous for the fact that it was visited by President Nixon in 1972 as part of his world changing diplomatic/trade initiative. The climbing is above the tourist area ( I don’t think Nixon could really have climbed all the way up !), where we were beset with super- aggressive selling of cold drinks. Really good route, but in the shade… obviously !

CathG

Beside the Yu Long river

7. Trela, Grande Grotte, Kalymnos. 7a

Trela used to be on the front cover of one of the early Kalymnos guides. My boss ( Pete Sutton)& I used to sit in the office and fantasise over the possibility of doing it someday (although we knew that we were never likely to). The route is pretty intimidating and the leader has to finish the route and the second has to retrieve the gear. Some years later, however, I seem to have dropped enough hints that Darrel and John Fleming offered to take me up. Strangely, I bumped into Pete on the way up to the Grande Grotte, so I could tell him of our plan. It’s a fantastic 3D experience, although the place where the famous stalactite dropped off is definitely the hardest bit. So thanks, Darrell and John !

8. Thetis, Arhi, Kalymnos. 6b / 6b+

Thetis is an impressive route up the corner of a large stalactite. I had top roped this a long time ago and since then it has got somewhat more polished. It is situated in the cave area of Arhi where the routes are all overhanging and the tough guys hangout. This made me feel that if I attempted to lead it, I would not want the embarrassment of failing in front of such an audience. I did lead it, thankfully the polish wasn’t too bad at all, and I finished it ok with looks of approval from the tough guys. Phew !


Book

His Dark Materials trilogy by Philip Pullman. Having read this only once, I am sure it would reveal many more layers of interest with multiple readings.

Luxury

Face cream – because I’m wurrrth it !

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Mike Browrell

Musings from Mike Browell

My eight Desert Island Rock Climbs include four Hard Rock routes as a nod of thanks to Ken. And four truly memorable routes. And four ethically selected routes. 4+4+4=8 so some overlapping is needed.

Let’s start with the four ethically selected but in the end, unsustainable climbs.

1. Deer Bield Buttress Easedale, Lake District E1 5a

Hard Rock tick

Climbed with John Fleming in August 1975. We were heavily into Hard Rock ticking and we clocked up thousands of miles, leaving a few parts of cars across Britain. Bridges, walls and fences were involved. Pleasant enough route, but Deer Bield Crack was trickier and I’m glad that I won’t have to struggle up it again. Both are no longer with us. The crag fell down in 1997.


BrowellBrowell

Deer Bield kit of parts Castle Rock North Crag at rest


2. North Crag Eliminate Castle Rock Triermain, Lake District E1 5b

Hard Rock tick

Climbed in June 1975 with John Fleming, and again with Mike Waters in April 1977 so I must have enjoyed it. Such a great route, steep but then it got steeper and steeper until it fell down in 2018. It now lies at a gentler angle below the crag.

3. Nostradamus Flimston Ridge, Pembroke E4 5c

August 1980 and on another mission, searching for the next Climbers Club Hut. Jeremy Frost drove down and his driving was often more memorable than the climbing. He also left a trail of broken cars across the country. We arrived at The Cauldron where Ken Wilson was controlling an ad hoc First Ascent Meet. He pointed us at a brand new route, climbed just minutes earlier by Jim Perrin and Dickie Swindon. HVS 5b they said. Never believe a first ascentionist. They had very likely already abbed the route, cleaned some loose rock and might have practiced the moves. We survived but found the upper part to be massively loose. It fell down a few years later. I later discovered that lots of Pembroke climbs were massively loose at the top. Rod Brown and I wrote an article explaining that Pembroke sea cliffs escaped the ice sheet of the last stage of the Pleistocene Glaciation, but endured very deep freeze-thaw action, shattering the limestone tens of metres deep. Had there been a capping ice sheet this would have carried all that loose rock away but it wasn’t there so it didn’t. And the cliffs are too high for sea waves to wash the loose rock away. It was left to my generation of climbers to learn this the hard way.

Browell

The Cauldron Flimston Ridge

4. Stiff Little Fingers Hodge Close Quarry, Lake District E3 6a

Climbed very carefully with Bob Bradley in May 1980. An actively widening finger crack in an atmospheric abandoned slate quarry. Once started, slate slabs slide slowly. Eventually they fall down. Quarry workers like slate which splits easily. Climbers don’t.

The guidebook later stated:- ’Due to the dangerous state of the rock on this route, it should be avoided if you have any plans for the future’. 

It now lies deep below the water of this flooded quarry.

So much for the memorable unsustainable climbs. I’m not in the least bit grumpy to see them go, in fact positively cheerful to know they won’t harm anyone now. And being in kit form they won’t take up too much space on my Desert Island. I might even be able to repair bits of them.

And now to the truly memorable Desert Island Climbs.

5. The Old Man of Hoy HVS 5a

Hard Rock Tick

In July 1979 a strong and well-prepared team travelled north. As so often, the journey turned out to be more epic than the climb. Graham Hoey set off a day early to climb in Central Scotland with Chis Calow. Unfortunately a large part of the crag fell down while Graham was climbing it, and he crashed 70 foot (check actual distance with Graham – he was there) onto the steep scree scope below. This broke his fall and rearranged his facial features but he was sitting up and smiling in Inverness Hospital when we arrived next day. Leaving him to the NHS, Chris Calow and I pressed on to Hoy, enjoyed the complex logistics and completed the climb in perfect conditions.


Browell

Old Man of Hoy – it might not fit into a Tardis though

6. Shibboleth Buchaille Etive Mor, Glencoe E2 5c

Hard Rock tick.

I see that JJ has already bagged this one, so I’m throwing in a duet with Apocalypse; a much scarier neighbour. Both share an impressive position on the massive Slime Wall overlooking Ravens Gully, high on Buchaille Etive Mor. Despite a heatwave it was quite a bit slimy when Martin Taylor and I ventured onto it in June 1977. It took us two days to decide it wasn’t that hard, during which time we tried the Pinch and found out what ‘hard and bold’ really meant. Luckily we had pegs and a hammer in those days and Martin lowered off after a 70 foot run-out. So we legged it back up to Slime Wall to climb the very bold but not really hard Apocalypse E3 5b, immediately right of Shibboleth. We had a scribbled route description from an SMC journal and we didn’t know anyone who had climbed it. But the sun was shining in Glencoe that summer, though sadly not on Slime Wall!

Now how am I going to get The Old Man of Hoy and Slime Wall, both around 150 metres high, onto my Desert Island?

7. Desolation Row Bosigran Great Zawn E2 5b

Climbed in March 1977 with Andy Brown. Hard and desolate it says in my guidebook comment. Intimidating lead with barely enough gear in an awesome location. In those days I didn’t have enough small stopper wires, so it felt quite run out. I remember carefully weighing up the possibility of jumping off to avoid an even bigger fall. But you wouldn’t want to fall off.

8. Darius High Tor Matlock E2 5c

First climbed it in June 1975 with John Fleming on a hot day. High Tor was buzzing with climbers in those days: now it looks virtually empty. Such a great face climb, I climbed it eight more times. Best done as a single pitch with the left-hand finish to bypass the 6a move at Chris Craggs replacement bolt. The original bolt was pulled out by a falling Aussie climber. Darius appears on so many ticklists and so not surprisingly is my perfect Desert Island Climb.


Browell

High Tor, Darius takes the centre line up the crag


The one to Save from the Waves. The Old Man of Hoy but it won’t need much saving: it can take care of itself. It’s been whittled away by very big waves for thousands of years.

The Book. Hard Rock, my own well-used copy has been a huge part of my life. For those who are thinking the obvious question, the answer is 4, and one of them is The Scoop on Strone Ulladale. The other three require long Scottish walk-ins which I shall probably never do.

The Luxury. Tardis containing a climate controlled climbing wall with programmable route setting and cheerful robot belayers who make complimentary comments. Very un-grumpy

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Brian (Griffo) Griffiths

Having been a pretty average climber who is now a long way past his best, I hesitate to go into print with my selection of UK climbs. For me some routes are memorable because they are milestones in one’s progress, in other cases it's not just the climbs but the people with whom you did them that makes them memorable and finally, some are just gobsmackingly fantastic!

  1. Left Unconquerable E1 5b Stanage
    The Left was my first “Extreme” lead back in 1962. I did it early one Saturday evening with Tony Wood on our way to the Monsal Head. I’d tried it the previous weekend and been found wanting due to lack of bottle. I spent all week thinking about it and on the night, bolstered by a fat runner at the top of the crack, the crux moves just fell into place.

  2. West Buttress Eliminate E2 Clogwyn Du’r Arddu
    Crafty Jack (Soper) and I were standing at the bottom of the West Buttress chatting with John Moss, when John told us that he and the Barley brothers had made the second ascent of West Buttress Eliminate the previous day. Encouraged by John’s beta, the following day we were at the bottom of the route gearing up. In those days the current first pitch was split on a grassy ledge. Jack sent me up this bit, which at that time featured an unpleasantly loose flake, which I believe subsequently fell off. Jack then set off on what we understood to be the crux. My memory is that the protection was pretty distant and the moves committing at any event, Jack didn’t fancy it. Chastened, we retreated and retired to Cwm Glas.
    Now Alan Austin and his family had just arrived at the hut and Jack, ever the cunning schemer, persuaded Alan that joining us on Cloggy was a better idea than a family day out. The next day, the team being reinforced, I was dispatched protesting, up the first bit again. Alan, after a few West Yorkshire mutterings, duly dealt with the crux and we all swapped leads for the rest of the route. Those of you who have done the route will remember that it also includes Walsh’s Groove. For those of you who haven’t done it, it's just a brilliantly sustained route which takes a pretty direct line up the crag.

  3. Valkyrie VS Rubbers (in those days) Froggatt
    Two of us soloed it one Wednesday evening in 1967. When we reached the ledge at halfway we really wondered what on earth we were doing there. By this time a small group of on-lookers had gathered below the pinnacle, so we had little choice but to continue. The moves up and left across the wall, stretching for the seemingly distant mantelshelf always feel committing, they certainly did that evening. Good job that when you get there it's relatively straightforward.

  4. The Quartz Icicle E2 Gogarth
    I climbed this with Mike Richardson, a friend from University and a regular climbing partner at the time. Mike, a brilliant bloke, whose brain spent much of its time in his nether regions, had phoned me at work on Thursday suggesting a trip to Wales, and extolling the advantages of a caravan that he’d organised a on Anglesey “really handy for Gogarth youth and we don’t have to drive over from Ynys”. What he had omitted to mention was that he’d also organised for one of his paramours to come along as well. Thus it was that I ended up in a poky little room at one end of the caravan while he plighted his troth in some comfort at the other. Despite the noises off, I achieved a good night’s sleep. Whatever Mike achieved it wasn’t sleep and pay-back time came at the bottom of the route. It was a hot day, “I’m feeling a bit knackered youth, do you fancy leading it”. “Oh really…!” I remember that the climbing was, as usual at Gogarth, atmospheric with the sea ceaselessly restless, the abseil approach committing, the climbing lonely and sustained, demanding total concentration. My memory of the route is of brilliant, high angle climbing with just enough for the feet and when you reached up a good crimp seemed always to come to hand. When we reached the top we lazed in the sun and debated whether to do another route or not but the day was warm and we were done. In any case our guidebook was on its way to Ireland Mike having accidentally dropped it in the sea.

  5. The Bat E2 Carn Dearg
    In about 1978 I was dispatched to Glasgow for work. Before leaving I asked Rab Carrington for a suitable climbing contact. He put me in touch with Brian Chambers in the Craig Dhu. This led to many good weekends staying a Jacksonville and climbing in the ‘Coe and on the Ben and elsewhere. So it was that Davy Gardner and I found ourselves walking up to Carn Dearg to have a go at the Bat. Anyone who has watched Jim Curran and Tony Riley’s excellent film “The Bat” will be familiar the epic story of the first ascent by Robin Smith and Dougal Haston. Now Davy wanted to lead the “Hoodie Groove”, so we agreed that I’d do the infamous roof pitch. The climbing went well and Davy climbed the Hoodie Groove pitch without any fuss. Now it was my turn to deal with the roof pitch. Before leaving the hut, I’d been tipped off that a long sling with a large nut could be flicked round the end of the roof and jammed in the crack above. Crouched under the roof with a good thread close by, I threw the nut round the roof and tugged it, third time lucky, it jammed or so I hoped. Rope clipped into a reassuring screw gate krab and I thrutched my way over the roof into the crack above. More thrutching with fist jams and arm bars and I was relieved to reach the stance. Of the rest of the route I can remember little, except that it was a long way to the top.

  6. Shibboleth E2 Slime Wall Buchaille Etive Mor
    1982 or thereabouts and I’d returned from Scotland with my appetite wetted for more climbing north of the border. Teaming up with Jill Lawrence, we all, Jill, Alison and our children Meg & Dave piled into our Mini Clubman Estate with camping and climbing gear to spend Spring Bank week in Scotland. We didn’t take so much “stuff” in those days! After a damp start, the weather improved and By Wednesday we’d already climbed Trapeze, Big Top and Hee Haw (Monday) and Toro, (Tuesday). So were feeling pretty good and decided that we were ready to have a go at Shibboleth. The crack pitch was wet as it often is. Near the top, feeling somewhat pressed, I rammed in the first friend that came to hand, a number 2, a bit over cammed but solid. Jill had some trouble removing it and let me know... Jill continued up the groove to the stance at the bottom of the next pitch. It was my turn to do the bit where our guide book said something like “climb 40 feet to a jug”! Jill told me not to be a wimp so I set off. In the event I remember placing some small wires and finding the climbing tricky but nowhere desperate. Eschewing the True Finish, we finished up the normal route. For me it was a “lifetime” tick.

  7. Steeple E2 Shelter Stone Crag
    It was autumn, Mike Richardson and I had driven up to the Cairngorms on a Friday after work. Arriving late at the Coire na Ciste car park, we found an unlocked workman’s shed. The plan was to walk into the Loch Avon basin the following day with bivy gear and climb on Shelter Stone Crag. In the morning we were away in decent time but not early enough to evade detection. We shouldn’t have worried. A lot of the guys working for the chairlift company were ex Craig Dhu and instead of being summarily kicked out, we were greeted with: “You boys drumming up, nae bother”. We drove round to the main car park shouldered our sacs and were about to set off up the hill when we bumped into John MacLean, whom I knew. Result, a ride up on the chairlift to the Ptarmigan with much energy and time saved.
    Some years before I been part way up Steeple with Gordon and Geoff Cohen and been rained off after Geoff had led the 5c pitch. This time we enjoyed warm sunshine and a cloudless sky, the climbing was sustained as we swapped leads. A great day out. The Shelter Stone doss being full and a bit squalid, we bivied in the heather beneath a canopy of stars. For good measure the next day we climbed The Needle.

  8. Quietus E2 Stanage

    I’d always hesitated about trying this route ever since Dave Sales fell off, the jerk on the rope dislodging his runners. There was no air ambulance in those days and Dave didn’t make it.
    One sunny day I was climbing at High Neb when Derek Walker asked me if I’d ever done Quietus. I said no and told him about Dave Sales. Derek could be persuasive “gear’s much better these days especially with double ropes”, “your good at overhangs”, “you're going well” etc. Convinced, I set off cautiously up the cutaway crack and lower overhang. Arriving on the slab beneath the roof I remember placing some good runners that would resist an out ward pull should I fall off from the lip of the overhang. Edging out along the flakes I got some finger jams over the roof and moved up, initially I faced right, which was obviously wrong. Somehow, I manged to reposition myself and face the other way. A high step and a pull, I suddenly thought “bloody hell you’re going to do this” and I did. Sitting on the top looking out over the Hope Valley and along the length of Stanage, it's simply the best place in the world.

    Brian (Griffo) Griffiths Infamous 5 Failures

    1. Positron (failed twice for different reasons);

    2. West Ridge of the Salbitschen (failed twice due to weather, attempts were 17 years apart);

    3. El Cap Triple Direct and Nose routes (failed both times due to weather, too hot on first occasion and monsoon like rain meant that we never really got started on the second occasion);

    4. Denali – Cassin Ridge and West Buttress routes (usual reasons – inexperience, avalanches, extreme cold);

    5. Echo Placa at the top of the Echo Valley (too hot, ab’ed off and went to beach), unfortunately I can’t find the route in the current Rockfax).

     

    The Desert Island Climbs of Marjory Mortimer

    My choice of climbs includes the most memorable for a variety of reasons - scary, risky, and exhilarating.

1. Aiguille Dibona Voie Boell 200m AD IV

Very few women climbed in the Alps in the early '60s. Jill Aldersley and I were urged by the men in our Alpine team to go for the Boell route - easy to find and very popular they said. Strange that there was no one to be seen all day. On the stance of the 3rd pitch were splashes of strawberry jam and tufts of curly black hair attached to thumb nail pieces of skin ! Meanwhile, a storm was gathering across the valley. We scuttled up the remaining 3 pitches to the top of the Dibona spire. Jill then announced she had never before abseiled . Amidst flashes of lightening I nudged her over the edge hoping she could hear my instructions. As we passed the hut guardian he stared at us in disbelief. He told us that the previous day there had been a rescue from the "sticky " ledge after a second had been lifted up to the roof of the overhang as his leader fell off. Gruesome !

2. Mont Blanc de Tacul Gervasutti Pillar 800m TD V+/VI

Early days with Mike who was told he was mad for taking me on this. I was under pressure to climb as fast as possible so as not to hold up the boys. At the top of the Pillar we heard something fall with a swish.Fortunately it was not a body but Rod had dropped his sack containing his duvet, food and money. Late in the day and at 4000m he thought he was going to die! Fortunately I had a double duvet and we descended in the moonlight arriving at the Cosmique Refuge at 1:30.

Late in the day and at 4000m he thought he was going to die! Fortunately I had a double duvet and we descended in the moonlight arriving at the Cosmique Refuge at 1:30.

3. Predigtstuhl (Kaisergeberge) West Face 300m VI+

I arrived at St Johann in Tirol prone in the back of the van with a severe dose of chicken pox. The doctor had said " my dear you cannot go on holiday, let alone rock climb " !

This superb route was spoilt by itchy scabs under my helmet. The crux was the final overhanging groove climbed in the afternoon sun. Mike had to drag me over the top before I passed out. Fortunately, contrary to appearances the descent from the spectacularly isolated summit was quite straight forward.

4. Tellistock (Susten Pass) South Face 400m VI+

This exhilarating climb proved to be much harder than we expected with a long hairy (and airy) crucial traverse in the middle. With Mike out of sight I kept paying out the rope with not a sound from him. When I finally joined him he was perched on a "one cheek " stance with dubious gear. With a sketchy and incorrect descent description we had to bivvy but found a superb crawl - in cave filled with dried oak leaves.

5. Marmalada South Face Don Quixote 800m VI+

I arrived at the foot of this full of trepidation as there had been a violent thunder storm the previous night. I couldn't believe it would be dry enough to climb. There were several strenuous pitches to a half - way ledge when I would have loved to give up, but I managed to feel more energetic on the second half as it was much more technical with difficult route finding. The promise of a descent by cable vanished when we heard the call for the last cabin of the day. They refused shelter at the cable car station so we raced down the glacier. Amazingly we got a lift down the scree with a pisteur’s 4x4 and another lift back to our car in the village.

6. Cima Scotoni SW Face Lacedelli Route 400m VI+/A1

One of the most memorable and challenging for me. Pitch after pitch of technical moves and not sure where to go next. Mike's mountaineering nous taxed to the limit and he miraculously followed the right line. The most scary pitch was a stomach traverse along a ledge narrower than body width, pushing ruck sac ahead. ( more like potholing ) l was heard to say " why didn't I agree to go to Spain for a beach holiday " Finished again at dusk . Looked up across the valley the next morning to see the mountain covered in snow.!

7. Rochers des Presles Temps de Guenilles 250m TD

My favourite climbing area. Superb rock. Top out on to limestone pavement in a wonderful beech wood. Spring flowers everywhere on the way back to the car.

Hard, technical moves all the way. An absolute dream . Made some great friends in the village. Visit them every year and now gaze longingly at our routes. Now too hard, too polished.

8. Carreg Wasted Zangorilla E4 6a

For some reason I sailed across this space - walking traverse. Ground to a halt around the corner amazed at the boldness of it all and so little gear. Mike was braced for me to swing into space but that didn't happen . We still think it was a crazy climb.


To take with me - My Cello .

Book: Biography of Galina (wife of Rostropovich }

Sent from my iPad

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Gordon Macnair

After some time and thinking of approaches taken by folk on Desert Island Disks – which range from life historical, to significant life moments of emotion, to some wider notion of ‘the best’ – I chose to go for climbs of significant emotional engagement.

This seems often but not every time to boil down to situations I shouldn’t have been in but somehow got lucky to get out of.

In rough date order then:

1. One Step in the Clouds - 1964

My first VS lead.

I was under the coaching of a lad of similar age but rather more experienced from I think Middleton, north of Manchester. He was a wonderful coach and became my main climbing partner for the next few years. We had met through the Karabiner Mountaineering Club, one of whose then main purposes was to introduce young people from the cities to the great outdoors. It was very good at that, and my mentor Bob was one of its impressive results.

After initiation on a streaming wet and cold Soap Gut in Ogwen Valley, he judged a little later that I should be capable of leading One Step. So I did, but with considerable trepidation. The top pitch had then as it seems little or no protection with our long slings and rudimentary drilled out nuts, and my green suede Ellis Brigham kletterschuhe did not inspire tremendous confidence on the frictiony moves. [The club had a peculiar convention that only their best climbers – maybe E1 now – should wear either red knee length socks, or PA/EB rock boots]. So, with some repeated wipes of my fingers on greasy knee-length moleskin britches – the then-equivalent of chalk bag dipping - up I went, with the soon-to-be familiar dry feeling in my mouth. PAs – here I come.

2. Unprintable – 1965, late winter

A first real life-or-death struggle.

I guess I started my life-long affection for God’sOwnRock with the Karabiner Club, Manchester based as it was. So I was up for proper struggles on its horror shows.

The Unprintable looked from down below as if it had holds and a decent crack [all climbing in those days was upwards in our lexicon, the notion of inspection was unheard of]. So up I went. Goodness knows what sort of gear I had in, but I remember quite clearly the immense struggle on the upper crack and the very clear feeling that I was about to fall off through exhaustion and was certain to hit the ground.

It was a terrible exhibition, but through no merit of my own and probably because of the tremendous friction properties of my moleskin britches on the left buttock, the worst did not happen and I survived to the top. Only to introduce the son of one of my great friends to holding his first leader fall, about 10 years ago. Simply clumsy on my part but nothing like so emotional, and he held on fine.

3. The Hand Traverse - 1967

Cheating finds you out…..

By now I had come partially under the coaching of one Tom, a very cheerful telephone engineer from Liverpool. We met up weekends, me from Manchester and he on his Velocette. He encouraged me on to harder things with I guess rather the same approach he took to his bike which he raced at the Isle of Man TT.

I can’t recall how we got to the Hand Traverse – the obvious way would have been via Taurus. Once there, I had a secret plan. I had been told – still I suspect in my moleskin britches – that the edge for the traversing hand was so sharp you could hang a fifi hook on it. [to my surprise, these things are still available though Andy Kirkpatrick observes drily: “its use comes at a moral price” - and more than moral]. I looped the hook to my hemp waistline so that, if the worst came to the worst, I could sneak a rest.

Off I go, confident with this insider information. Towards the end of the horizontal traverse I found myself becoming somewhat tired. Time for the hook. First problem, the hook was tangled in the rat’s nest of long slings and nuts round my neck. So that took some more oomph out of my arms. Once solved, I tested the hook on the razor- well, - ish edge. The net effect was a hook twisting back and forth in front of me, holding by the friction of its tip to a rounded edge, while I held on and tried to rest alternately one then the other arm with a grip supposedly reduced by the hook. In effect I just got tired rather more slowly.

Eventually with nothing left to clip the peg I took a big swing on to Tom’s waist belay - Tom having cracked a rib by falling off Vector’s top pitch the previous day. He was a stoic.

4. nose of the Sgur of Eigg – about 1976

We made it to the Inner Hebrides in the Spring, kind of between the winter season and drier summer rock. But late winter conditions always had their attraction. We were all packed up and set to leave Edinburgh, Geoff Jude and me, and a walking companion Dennis when Geoff threw in - a ‘googly’ I think it might be called - the option of catching good conditions on Skye. Too disruptive, so we caught McBrayne’s good ship Loch Arkaig from Mallaig to Eigg, shortly before she sank at her moorings from a fatal attack of keelworm.

We found a suitable doss in an abandoned house overlooking Muck, and settled in on the concrete floor. We had exploring notions but Geoff and I also an idea to find something to climb on the Sgur. The sharp nose was obvious. So we scrambled up to the projecting ridge of steep crumbling shale at its foot, and set out leftwards into immediately exposed climbing. First pitch we survived but the belays were crap, the crumbling shale might have been a clue, and no safe way back or down. The second pitch was equally loose and needed my best bridging skills to avoid putting any weight whatsoever on any holds – not good enough however, as a foothold just fell apart. Good fortune and the seemingly-rotten handholds smiled, despite my fright.

I recall it as one of my closer brushes with a bad accident and have never found any relationship between our own experience and the descriptions of other climbs on that nose.

5. (Black) Cuillin Ridge of Skye – 1978

Well, I do have a reputation as a pedant to maintain.

Three different trips, if that’s not cheating. None of these were of the kind of emotional engagement I’ve described so far. The first, was with Jude one early summer, probably [I don’t keep a diary] 1977. We took two days, with a bivvy somewhere around Sgurr a Banachdich. We were strong in those days – sleeping bags, primus stove, pans, food, bivvy bag. Worth the weight however, as snow patches gave us easy water for soup and drinks, and a tolerable night. Mostly decent weather although we were in cloud the second day as I wrongly began to go down the long ridge off Bidein into the remote Coruisk … a nasty mistake if followed through. Overall a grand trip out.

The second was in perfect winter conditions, crisp unmarked nevee, clear skies, and so cold that oranges froze in our sacks; we could barely eat the first temperature indicator, rock hard Mars bars. Two bivvies, one after the abseil from the Bhasteir Tooth, and one below the Inn Pinn, with the long final walk – parched tired and dark - to the hut in Glen Brittle by the light of an abnormally large full moon. Knackered, dehydrated, with the walk back to the Slig pending for the next day, but very very pleased.

Third was in 2012, on my own. This time I had planned and researched rather more carefully than either of the previous trips. I guess I’m becoming more careful like that. Great weather, great scrambling, and the part I left more to luck, the finding of a rope for the Thearlach Dubh gap, paid off when I found a kindred spirit who was indeed carrying a rope. After some debate, and for reasons still baffling, he later decided he had to leave me before my Bealach Harta bivvy in preference for a party in Glasgow with his girlfriend. I was travelling much lighter than in 1976 – no sleeping bag, feet in rucksac, no stove, and limited water. My dire thirst slaked next morning by two kindly folk on my final ascent, and I felt an enormous satisfaction at that completion.

6. Shibboleth - 1981

Like John J, this had been on my list for some time.

I worked flexitime then, always had several days’ holiday in hand, and could do midweek for stolen good weather. I had already done one of these day dashes, following several rained-off attempts on Steeple – finally we did an early summer dash to Cairngorms Northern Corries carpark, legged it to Shelter Stone crag, brilliant weather, no midges, smooth ascent and back home to Edinburgh in time for going out to friends for the evening meal – tea or dinner, depends how you want to place yourself.

I hoped to do the same for Shib, bearing in mind it was a big scary route with tales of Malc Howells stuck on pitch 4 as his rope untied itself and snaked down the rock. Just like for Steeple, I had several failed attempts due to wetness and a certain absence of pro at the initial wet streak. [Tho Jonesy and I did see a pair of local lads whistle up a pretty sodden Shib when we were opposite, on Raven Wall – another time.]

And again, just like for Steeple, we got a perfect weekday hit from Edinburgh. All OK till the big pitch, tho’ the wet streak still made that early bit a little scary. I had expected the main pitch to be a run-out monster and tackled it very deliberately, reasonably confident in my fingers honed on the Edinburgh rail embankment walls. Steady climbing, on the feet (!), poor gear till suddenly the tension lifted when I found a perfect little thread for a wire. So pleased, and at the top, so very very pleased!!

Across the way, lay the True Finish. Ah well, I thought, don’t be greedy; we’ve had a perfect climb and can come back for that some other, relaxed time. Big mistake. It’s still on the moth-eaten list.

7. Fannichs – 1985 or so

I got a week in Scotland each winter for several years, after coming to Sheffield in 1981. Twins in 1983 didn’t stop that, not immediately.

One of these trips included a visit to the Fannichs, I’ve no idea what the route was called, but part of a good weather trip which had I think started in the Cairngorms.

So, we flogged 8 km up to this face which my dim memory and a map suggests might have been below An Eigin, on its Garbh Corrie Mor face. You’ll be able to place that immediately.

Good weather, and a bit of nature spotting as we saw a fox trotting across the upper slopes of the Corrie. The route was something of a face climb, not very thickly iced but quite steep. My core recollection was looking down from some distance above a not very reassuring peg or screw, ice rearing up, and thinking to myself: what on earth am I doing up here with two baby girls and a toddler at home?? - then , - oh well, and on we go.

I’m not sure for how much longer I kept on running it out on these winter trips.

8. Riglos – 2008

We had been at Riglos, a gang of Grumpies, for the week with this tower, the Pison Sur, just looking at us. All 260 metres. At least vertical. We didn’t really dare look it back in the eye.

Well, JJ and I scuffed our feet on the ground on the next last day and muttered that it was still there and the weather looked ok and were we men or mice? It became decided, in the way those things do. But it still looked very steep, the chalk never washed off sun or rain, and we could pick out the line of unwashed holds all the way to the top.

Next morning nothing had changed. Tho initially cold, with our commitment public we had no option. A big thrutchy crack to start with [which I think we had sussed out the day before] then we were on to the real stuff, ropes hanging free, a few drops of rain or snow flakes falling well clear of our sacks at the bottom. Fortunately we were used to the shy bolting from the previous week - shy, in that you often can’t see the next bolts because of the intermittent bulges of the panza. By about pitch five or six I was feeling we had it cracked though there was still a sting in the tail, we knew. Eight pitches, 260 metres, even on big jugs, that took a lot out of us and by the top we were definitely cramping up. What a great sense of achievement when we topped out. The challenge, the tension, the gradual confidence, the final crux, and the finish.

I think it was on the abseil descent from this that I came nearly to grief, carelessly not clipping my cow’s tail properly. That would be the seventh life.

My book

well it just has to be Mountaineering in Scotland by Bill Murray, written on toilet paper as his only material in prisoner of war camp.

And that explains the stockpiling now, as an unexpected side effect of all those Creative Writing courses.

My Luxury

An endless supply of green olives

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Bill Wintrip 

This was sooo hard. I’ve gone from doing routes anywhere in the world, to just UK climbs, to just Peak and full circle to anywhere in the world.

I’ve ended up basing my choices on the universal ‘fanbloodytastic/screaming with joy’ grading system for desert island climbs.

The routes are in no particular chronological order or in fact any logical order! 

1. Cloggy – Shrike. E1 or E2?

 One of my first Welsh E leads and although the first pitch is a bit of a struggle the top pitch is fantastic. Good holds and good gear. I wanted it to go on for ever..... 

2. Lundy – Devils Slide - Classic Route. HS 

What a piece of rock! It’s such an impressive sight and up there with some of the best rock architecture in the world. Adey and I had a brilliant week, ticking off some of Lundys classics. We had done a few of the harder Slide routes (Satans Slip, Albion etc) but what sticks out in my memory the most is soloing the Classic Route, it’s not particularly hard (hence the reason I was actually soloing it!) but it is a three star classic and a little bum clenching on the top traverse!

3. The Old Man of Hoy – East Face Route. E1

 I see that this is a popular choice with some of the other grumpies and rightly so. Chris Jackson and I embarked on a Scottish sojourn one year and not only did we tick off the Old Man but amongst other crags visited during that trip, we also did the Traverse of the Main Ridge on Skye. The Old Man was brilliant (and I don’t mean Chris!), although a wee bit damp (I do mean Chris!).

4. Yosemite, North Dome – Crest Jewel. 5.10a 

Crest Jewel is in such a fantastic position sat high above the valley. The highway approach can be tricky on finding the base of the route and Bill Geary and I almost gave up. When we finally located it I was quick off the mark and worked out the leads and unselfishly let Bill have the crux pitch. Thank f... I did. It was an excellent day, perfect weather, perfect rock, no other climbers on the crag, swallows swooping past us and a series of eyeballs out on stalks crux moves. 

5. Mt.Kenya – Shipton/Harris Route. Grade 4

 This is in because of the overall ‘African’ experience – the weather, the people, the flora and fauna,the corruption, the poverty....

Nick Gregory and I climbed this route on Christmas Day. The climbing is not technically hard, although route finding is a bit tricky. We actually didn’t get lost and made good progress to the top. It’s an abseil back down the route and we didn’t get our ropes jammed – so result all round!

On Boxing day we nipped up Lenana. Magic Christmas presents.

6. Gogarth – Yellow Wall – The Moon E3

 One could almost do a top 8 routes for Gogarth alone!

Chris and I had a great day doing a few of the classics on Yellow Wall. However, the one that really sticks out is The Moon. Not desperate technically but the space walking situations you get into are just - WOW! After we had coiled the ropes for the day we scuttled round to where Adey and party were just finishing up the final groove of Creeping Lemma and we were able to shout abuse and throw pebbles at them. Needless to say, we buggered off before they belayed and got hold of us!!

7. Jordan – Burdah, East Face Bedouin Bridge Route. Grade 3

 Alison, my wife, is not a climber but I managed to persuade her to climb this route with me. It is more a scramble but again I’ve included it for the overall ‘good to be alive’ feeling of the trip. The views from the rock bridge across the desert were stunning. We were staying in a Bedouin camp in Wadi Rum and the following day we got up before dawn, headed off into the desert and had breakfast as the sun rose over Wadi Rum – magical.

 8. Cima Piccola – The Yellow Edge. Grade 6

 This had been on my wish list for ages. A few years back, on one of our Dollies trips, Bill and I decided to give it a look. On arrival, we were concerned by the number of climbers milling around at the base of the route but they quickly dispersed onto their chosen lines, leaving Yellow Edge for us. The exposure going out to the arete was just as I had hoped it would be, we had swirling mist towards the top which added to the atmosphere. A truly golden line.

 Book – The Ascent of Rum Doodle by W E Bowman. It still makes me giggle.

 Luxury item – Panforte from Panificio ll Magnifico bakers in Siena. Wrapped in a photo of my wife, daughter and grand daughters –  sorry, I know, pass the bucket!

Stay safe everyone.

 

Desert Island Climbs of Nick Longland.

I’ve decided not to include any Sport Routes not because they are any less memorable or interesting to me but because I struggle to describe exactly why without tedious move-by-move detail.

!. Valkyrie – Froggatt 1961 with Mark Vallance

It is such a great way up the Pinnacle; a jamming crack, traverse, ledge, overhang and slab. I’d wanted to do it ever since seeing the photo of Joe Brown in the 1956 Guide. I recall making two mistakes. Firstly going left to rest in the niche at the top of the first crack and secondly trying to copy Joe’s use of the short crack with his right hand, when going straight up proved more straightforward.

2. Vector 1975 with a Welsh Pole called Tish – we never got onto surid terms.

Another Brown masterpiece threading an unlikely line through intimidating overhangs. I remember nearly backing off the tough moves to the flake on the arête in fright, making full use of the Ochre Slab ring peg, hiding in the wildly situated belay niche to bring Tish up and dreading the top of the final layback where quite a few better climbers than me had taken flyers. Fortunately good runners at the base of the layback encouraged a ‘go for it’ approach which to my surprise worked.

3. Adjudicator Wall, Dovedale 1978 with Roger Bennion

Gnarly fingery layaways on blank looking limestone. I was pessimistic about this but Roger egged me on to at least have a go. It starts innocuously but unobvious moves left soon induced pumped forearms, tunnel vision and shouts of ‘watch me’. The moves seemed highly intricate past a glacis to a small respite standing on the stump of a bush. More layaways, a reach out left to clip the peg followed by hard moves past it to, with dwindling strength, a lunge for a hoped for jug. It was flat and I was spent… and slumped back to my last runner. Another go gained a bit more ground but still no follow through. Third go and a bit of lateral thinking led to a perfect flake over to the left and my kicking myself for not trying that way first. Roger being less tall had his own battles but largely in different places to mine.

4. Pleasure Dome, Pembroke 1985 with Hairy Dave

A route which ‘goes somewhere you don’t think is possible at the grade’ (Alan James). Also ‘sort your runners out to prevent rope drag’. After leaping the bergschrund I put too many on the first rib. Halfway along the wild traverse one rope began to drag. Swinging a leg round onto the ramp at the end I started sliding down it, fingers scrabbling on tinies . Luckily my foot lands on a foothold at the base. Nearly off there. I contrive a runner but am so gripped I clip the wrong rope in. So, just the crux bulge to do. But a pocket above accepts two good wires and allows a bit of a shake out and removal of the ramp runner. I got the bulge sequence right and emerged shakily above onto the joyous final wall and corner. Hairy Dave showed me how to bypass the ramp by stepping straight up. Phil Gibson who I knew wanted to lead it had patiently watched our antics. The climbing had been so good that I readily agreed to second him……on a tight rope!

5. Dream/Liberator, Cornwall 1985 with Mark Vallance

After a productive couple of days Mark and I felt ready to have a go at this. Just getting to the Deja Vu start seemed epic involving as it does the hideous leap across The Crevasse, down to a small ledge (I know you can climb across but what’s the fun in that). The first black groove had that salty dampness common on sea cliff bases but led precariously to drier rock above. Ernie Marshall had told me of a long reach below the overhang. I was just tall enough. He hadn’t told me of a second long reach to gain the Déjà vu slab which also required max. stretch. Belaying at arête foothold I turned round to find it was ….. raining. Mark started up but it soon obvious that it was not going to happen that day, so we had to bail out, not an easy thing from the Great Zawn. Returning the following day gave Mark the chance to lead the first pitch and for us to savour the wild moves above the stance to an easier groove and the top.

6. Right Wall 1985 again with Mark

My trad climbing apogee ! The things I remember; the bold and frightening start with ground fall potential; the relief of the first resting ledge and bomber 3 friend placement; the ‘blind’ nature of the climbing, with good and bad pockets; the somewhat disappointing ‘crozzly spike’; the energy sapping fiddly gear placements; the sprint to the girdle ledge; and the lousy holds up to and past the ‘porthole’. I was one lunge from the top juggy traverse when the tank ran dry. After three forays I realised I had nothing left and so finished up The Gates. So it didn’t count and I had to come back (this time with Dave Jones) a month later and go through it all again to get the tick!

7. The Murciana, Naranjo de Bulnes, Picos de Europa 2004 with Roger Bennion, Chris Parkin and Mike Pyecroft

Small by Alpine standards the West face of the Naranjo is nonetheless an impressive 500m hunk of limestone which I had twice been up to the foot of, but been thwarted by weather. I thought we were going to do the classic Rabarda-Navarro route but this tough welsh team decided the Murciana was the one. We climbed in pairs, Roger and I bringing up the rear and generally leading through. Pitches 4 & 5 were A1/2 and by watching the others I tried to recall how it all worked, with a mares tail and short footloop. I was slow and Roger cold. Above absorbing climbing led across the Rabarda traverse and when the sun finally reached the W. face we were on pitch 13 by which time my hands were cramping up regularly so Roger took the lead on the trickier- looking pitches. The upper third was characterized by curious water worn grooves (canalizos) giving great climbing but usually difficult to protect. We topped out after 12 hours, and raced down to the hut to miss the strictly enforced deadline for food by a few minutes, so we scrounged a few leftovers and some beer and wine and sank into oblivion.

8. Old Man of Hoy 2006 With step-daughter Helene and Mark

This was my second brush with Scottish sea stacks having attempted Am Buchaille with my mate Jim Emerson, as teenagers, on a family holiday in 1964. We got about 80 ft up and our abseil peg below the crux bulge gave Tom Patey a surprise on his first ascent three years later.

Hoy has been nearly Grumpied out, so some memories; very lucky weather front window with rain the night before and again as we regained the headland afterwards; feet, with Mark having little feeling in his after 8 years of Parkinsons, Helene dispatching the crux using footholds I hadn’t even seen, and me getting my foot caught in a sling at the same point, trying to kick it free like a recalcitrant wellie and with visions of being suspended up-side-down by an ankle forever; funny-looking puffins and less amusing fulmars. I copped a belly full so M and H belayed as far from me as possible (early example of Social Distancing?); John G, you can see daylight through the excellent top crack not just in one direction but in two ! ; and finally, the abseil mechanics to get the party reassembled on the first ledge, followed by the wind whipping the rope round to jam on the landward side on the last ab. The old men sent the youngster down to sort that out which she did.

Book; don’t suppose the complete works of Dickens are allowed so another vote for Lord of the Rings

Luxury; A barrel of gin and box of oranges

 

Nick Longland’s Infamous 5 Failures.

  1. Supersonic, High Tor. Totally pumped on the final fingery pull and took a 30ft flyer ably fielded by Glyn Paget

  2. The Swan, Roaches. Lacked the courage to do the crucial move up at the end of the traverse, with the daunting pendulum prospect if it didn’t work.

  3. The Grasper, Tremadoc. John Robson and I spent a fruitless 40 mins thrashing up and down scree and vegetation in a failed attempt to even find the start.

  4. Nightglue, Lower Pen Trwyn. Was psyched up for this but the route was occupied. When it eventually became free it was a race against the incoming tide which was fast approaching my belayer Jenny’s feet. The ensuing urgency to rush, perhaps predictably, ended in a fall.

  5. South Ridge Direct, Cir Mhor, Arran. Our team of 3 had a combined age of over 200. I bottled out of the ‘S’shaped crack (VS) and having witnessed my antics there were no other takers. Felt a very ignominious failure in view of our grit appreniceships.


The Desert Island Climbs of Dave and Linda

Linda and I have been discussing a joint list for a few days. Having climbed together since 1986 we have had some great times, although we
have also done memorable routes with other climbing partners. Here goes:

1. North Face Standard Route, Batian, Mount Kenya, August 1987. Alpine trad, 23 pitches HS, now VS. Linda and I had first climbed together less than a year before so how had
I persuaded her do something so potentially serious? We took a bus from Nairobi then walked up to our first camp at the Met. Station to be told that a lion had ripped through the flysheet of someone's tent the week before. Not a good night's sleep.
Then on to the Kami hut via a night in the Mackinder valley. Linda could not lift her rucksack onto her back without assistance so the Vertical Bog was particularly trying. The Kami hut was a small metal structure with its own in-house rats. The first day was aborted
as we took too long to find the correct line. An early start the following day saw us a couple of hundred feet from the summit (17 054 feet) by a very rapid nightfall. What views in the morning - but also severe dehydration so the only safe way was down which
took most of the day. We walked out to BantuLodge, having seen only one person since leaving the Met. Station a week before.

2. Satan's Slip, Devil's Slide, Lundy. We had to have a least one route on a UK sea cliff and what a position on what a cliff! This was climbed on our second visit to the island. The first was a joint Castle/Parnassus trip with the tail of an Atlantic hurricane reducing options for a few days. Linda climbed the Devil's Slide with Roy and Marilyn, laybacking to avoid being blown off. Pembroke, Gogarth and the South West in particular have provided great sea cliff days.

3. Left Unconquerable, Stanage or Right Unconquerable. We had to have a route on Peak gritstone. Not sure when we first did the Left together but they were both routes you aspired to do. The simplicity of the line is what attracts. I also love the devious on grit -
how about The Blurter or Neb Buttress at Bamford?

4. East Buttress, Mount Whitney, California, August 1997. We have climbed extensively in North America (including two 'road trips' in old vans) from the Bugaboos in Canada to El Potrero Chico in Mexico, but the High Sierra hold a special place in our memories for great climbing in
spectacular scenery. This route involved a hard walk in to Iceberg Lake then a long day to untie ropes on the summit of the highest peak in the lower 48 states, with superb views in all directions. What more can you want? Amongst others Tuolumne, The Needles,
Rocky Mountains National Park and El Potrero Chico provided memorable multi-pitch  days.

5. Humanality, Ton Sai Wall, Thailand, February 2007.  A dawn start from behind a bar that only stopped serving a few hours before. Four pitches, I think, including the 'It's behind you' pitch near the top, where the climbing is getting decidedly hard until you
realise that there is a BIG stalactite behind you which you can just bridge across to. High fives with American friends Janet and Philip at the top, then we tie our ropes together and rap off for breakfast in the bar which has now reopened. Later, Tim Emmett
BASE jumped from the top of  the wall, became entangled in trees and had to be rescued! Martin Armitage and I climbed another route with Tim so he could throw himself off the top, but that's another story! 

6. Sonjannika, Morro Falqui, Costa Blanca. Back to the sea. We have done this route several times and photographed friends on it from the routes on either side, but it still makes us smile when we climb it. The belay in the cave, pulling out of the cave onto the
wall, the layback and flake moves to get you to the crux pull then that final groove of the Winter Edition Finish. Great moves in a great position.

7. Wings for Life, Telendos. The first long route we did on Kalymnos and not being sure of how long it would take to find and climb we stayed at Rita's. We were just getting to the start when the boat appeared and dropped off another team, but fortunately they
headed for Wild Country. Great positions for the standard of climbing, a walk to the summit and eventually a beer or two at Rita's. 

8. Original Route, Old Man of Hoy, May 2018. Our climbing trips to Scotland usually mean rain so we gave ourselves a month in the far north. Initially the weather was cold with strong winds in the Orkneys so some time in the Cairngorms including a backpacking
trip. Then the weather window - two ferries and the camper van was parked up at Rackwick Bay followed by a recce. The next day is fine and bright with little wind so an early start to make the most of the sun on the face. Straightforward climbing, trying to
avoid the fulmars, then a very careful abseil off. A last 60m ab. to the beach then pull the ropes - shit they will not budge. Climbing up the slope we got them to move so only a slog up to the cliff top remained. We'd ticked this so quickly, what were we
going to do with the rest of the month? 

Book: A climbing anthology would be appropriate but 'The Games Climbers Play' or 'Mirror in the Cliffs' are a bit long in the tooth. Perhaps 'Wild Women' edited by Mariella Frostrup would suit one of us. Ernest Shackleton's 'South' is inspirational and  would
put the desert island experience into perspective, as long as it is not like Elephant Island!

Luxury Item: A bread maker with unlimited quantities of flour.

 

The Desert Island Climbs of John Fleming


While not being a grumpy myself I have climbed with and know lots of them, from the early days at
Sheffield University climbing with Mike Waters and Mike Browell to an epic period of new routing
with Chris Jackson in Southern Ireland. Jen and I had many a trip away with John and Kath. I love the
irony of the id, they are many things but, in my experience, never grumpy, with perhaps the
exception of Bill Wintrip.

1. T Rex E3 5c - Gogarth
I did this with Mike Browell (MFB) in the early 70's. It is a route full of atmosphere and, yes. I was a
little frightened. The first pitch was damp, and it was a long way to the safety of the first runners and
the not so safe first belay. When it was all over we felt like Gods, had we joined the realms of real
climbers?

2.Nagasaki Groove E4 6b - Great End
I did this with Bill Briggs. It epitomises everything a great route should be, sustained on good rock
and with a purity of line, truly a great route.

3.Right Wall E5 6a
Again with Bill Briggs. I had tried the route a good few year earlier, just after Chris Gore took his 60ft
fall from just below the girdle ledge. I retreated from the crossly spike. The time was not right. On
the day we did the route I knew that if I got to the girdle ledge and the long rest it was in the bag!
Alas, as anyone who has led the route will tell you, this is far from the case. A large lump of courage
is required for those last moves.

4.Canta 6c,6c,6c+,6a - Bavella Corsica
So good I did it twice, both times with Jen Roberts. It is an immaculate granite slab the climbing is
hard and thoughtful with some longish runouts, a typical granite slab. You love them or hate them,
personally I love them.

5.Lost in Juarez E4 6a - The Black Cliff
over the course of 5 years Chris Jackson and I developed some of the Sea Cliffs of County Kerry. It
was a great period of adventure and we managed to bag about 100 new routes and almost all fitted
into the category "Not another bloody classic?” For me, Lost in Juarez was one of the best routes, a
sweeping wall of brown slate with just enough holds and just enough gear. An absorbing route over
the wild Atlantic.

6. Out of Africa 1700ft 7a - Madagascar
This was some of the best face climbing I have ever done, a huge granite wall that seem to go on for
ever. I did the route with Simon Cox, I had seen pictures of these big granite walls and knew I just
had to go and climb them. Out of Africa was the standout route and it had to be done. In the event I
had nagging doubts as to whether I had 17 pitches at an average of 6b in me, after all I was well into
my 50's. We got to the top in good order and all that was left was a long walk back and a cold beer.

7. Merlin's Wand 6a+ - Wadi Rhum
I Did this route a couple of years ago with Rab. It is a magnificent line and is not known as the "super
crack of Rhum" for nothing. Four pitches straight from the desert floor.

8.The Shield A5 - El Cap
In the mid 70's I did 4 routes on El Cap all brilliant and worthy of inclusion. However, the stand out
route would have to be our iconoclastic ascent of The Shield. Until our tourist ascent in 1976, it had
only been done by the Stone Masters. Ours was possibly the 5th ascent and we did it in true Stone
master style, a stash of grass and a six pack of beer. Six nights hung in hammocks listening to
Bachar's haunting trombone drifting up from Yosemite meadows, truly an unforgettable experience.

Book - Narcissus and Goldmund by Hermann Hesse.
Luxury – A portrait in the attic, or perhaps some wings in case I Fall off.

 

Desert Island Climbs of Dave Lockwood

Just left school in 1963 and started climbing on Stanage with a couple of friends and a builder's rope nicked from round a 'hole in the road'. Very 'hairy' in more ways than one! Eventually progressed to owning a Viking nylon rope, a waist-length and one karabiner – a real climber at last.

1. Kirkus's Corner E1 5b. Stanage 1964

Lots of classic gritstone/most edges but this one remains a significant memory (wet hands typing this). Very pleased at having pulled round the overhang into that shallow open groove but horrifying to find I had no runners (we didn't have wires in those days!). I still don't believe it's possible to reverse that move and so it was with this dilemma I bridged up the wrinkles in a pair of hand-me-down RD's (again no sticky boots) to a good runner before the last rounded move. I don't think I've ever been as frightened since. Several harder routes hereabouts were ticked during later days but none quite as momentous. Often wondered how old Kirkus found it and needless to say I've never been tempted to do it again, even with proper gear.

2. Cenotaph Corner E1 5c 1965

A miserable November day in Llanberis with Colin Crookes, Little Joe and Jim Street (yes, Jim – Jack's brother) Colin led the Corner during the afternoon. I also wanted to lead this famous route, but not in the 'dark' so Little Joe seconded but left a couple of awkward nuts in place (my runners!). So next morning saw our little party once again looking up the corner at my runners. Colin had managed to lead through the niche without using the in-situ peg for aid (that was the usual way in those days – even JB). Everything went smoothly past the thin fingery mid-section and on up to the niche. That’s where Colin had the strength and I didn't so instead of using the peg I flew off backwards with Llanberis spinning towards me. After a rest and a second try it was in the bag, and although having done it since, it was that first serious tumble that remains so vivid.

3. Cioch Direct/Integrity Skye 1966

In 1966 I went to live in Keswick and had the good fortune to climb with a good few of the local lads during that year. It was in that summer however that Clive Duke (one of the originals along with Len Millson, of the Parnassus Climbing Cub) and myself went off to Skye. Camping in Glen Brittle we climbed every day on that beautiful gabro. By no means the hardest was the classic Cioch Direct then VS, followed/extended by Integrity HS. The former with long no protection run-outs to reach the Cioch and then the steep wall and groove of Integrity to reach a fantastic top-out with terrific views.

4. Post Mortem E3 5c 1966

Eagle Crag Borrowdale, sunny afternoon with a couple of Peregrines screaming at us to clear off, but climbing took priority in those days. I'll never forget such a horrible off-width crack which after several futile attempts using various embarrassing methods relented at a large chock-stone – a huge thread runner gave confidence for the steep but less intimidating top wall.

5. Kipling Groove HVS 5a 1966

Another Lakeland classic with stunning positions. Carrying a heavy sack full of gear, mostly steel crabs and drilled engineering nuts, was I remember one of the main downsides of visiting the higher crags. This is a true classic and again magnificent positions and views. The second pitch has an intimidating traverse under an overhang, but the third pitch is the crux with a bold step onto the exposed north-west face. A tricky move up past a rusty old peg (It's either been replaced since or possibly a brown stain is all that remains?) Another steep traverse and groove led to the top with Greater Langdale/Mickleden Beck 1800 ft below.

6. Kilnsey Crag Main Overhang A3 1967

Some Most of you will remember those days of old when during the winter months there was no friendly indoor wall to frequent and it was too cold and/or wet to climb by normal means - hence the 'artificial' alternative. It was in fact a great opportunity to 'bang & dangle' and enabled some spectacularly dangerous trust in peculiar items of attachment. I recall for instance hanging on a kitchen cup-hook screwed gingerly into a rotten wedge and making rapid progress as it slowly gave in! However; this era saw us making for the big limestone crags, Malham, Goredale and our very own Raven Tor and Big Plum/Spider. Kilnsey was the inevitable goal for Mick Swift and myself. We left the ground at 6am to avoid the police and topped out at 8.30 am: that was fast. Icicles hung like Kalymnos tufas and the variety of tat and rubbishy bits of nylon provided the necessary excitement. It snowed so the choice of a big roof proved a good one. I believe it is now completely free, as are all those big routes - in a way it's a pity because it provided continuity through the winter, but overall for the best. We wouldn't want the hoards to be smashing there way up these crags when the modern top men/women are capable of proper athletic performances.

7. Alcasan E2 5c 1967

The trend for good traverse lines was upon us and following on from the now classic girdles of the Pendulum, Chee Tor, Beeston Tor and Raven Tor we turned our attention to the fairly new Alcasan at Stoney. Me and John Hadfield took over four hours to get this one: the afternoon was so hot, and to prevent unprepared for dehydration we had to ask climbers on windy ledge to fasten water bottles to lowered ropes. A few weeks later John Ibbotson and myself completed what I believe was the first ascent/traverse the other way, left to right, which we (unrecorded) idd Nasacla E2 6a.???

8. Old Man of Hoy - East face /original route E1 5b 1968

It wouldn't be right to leave this one out seeing as a good number of Grumpies have included it. Especially as it was a very early, we think the 3rd ascent. There was no ferry from Stromness so we paid a local fisherman to take us across, then a hitch to Rackwick Bay. We slept in a ruined crofter's cottage and walked over the hill that evening to view the Old Man. There was no path either in those days and the Bonxies did their best to dissuade our intentions. Next morning saw us descending the cliff in good but windy conditions to the easy causeway. Mick led the first pitch and brought us up to that nice comfy ledge. I traversed right then started up the awkward wide second pitch crack. I know I keep harping on about our less than modern gear but it's true. We didn't have friends/cams etc. just our own conventional stuff and the in-situ protection was a couple of large rotting wedges and a super stuck-in bong left by the TV teams. Ok that’s enough of that: it took us three hours on the up bits and five to get down due to the strong wind. A digression into involuntary May-poling never did anyone any harm! We saw no other people for those few days – the only humans of note from our lofty position was a Fishery Patrol Frigate passing round the island (it was during the Cod-War with Iceland).

And that was more or less it for the next 44 years.

To keep fit I started fell-running/fell races and found it was more conducive as a sole-person pastime due to career, marriage, children etc. etc. And so it was; until we had a holiday in 2012 to Kalymnos and witnessed the North Face Climbing Competition and the total atmosphere of the place. I thought "I can do that" so back home I ventured to the Edge climbing wall and became embroiled with old friends and ne're-do-wells of the sixties. Now the reverse has happened, I'm down at Awesome Walls three times a week and although I've no intention of kicking the fell running habit I have inescapably slowed down to a more or less fell-shuffling format. No regrets.

My book: I don't need the Bible thank you, preferring the Life of Brian version.

Luxury item: A pair of binoculars – I'm assuming there will be some good birds on this island; if not

then I'll just look for ships!

Intermission.

While you are all in reminiscent mood over the climbs that you might have done, some are undertaking other absorbing activities.

StumpedPest Control

  1. Tony Mays wages war on the vegetable kingdom
  2. Tom Westgate directs his engineering skills at pest control

The Desert Island Climbs of Bill Phillips


After much thought and many changes of mind I’ve come up with eight climbs which have some significance to me. Just noticed there’s  a bit of a Welsh bias to my selection hope that’s ok. - if not tough.
Take care, hope to see you all as soon as things get back to normal.


1) Right Unconquerable - Stanage - HVS 5a
When I first came to Sheffield I had never climbed on grit having done most of my limited climbing in Wales. It took me some time get used to the rock but eventually the penny dropped. I’ve done this route many times and every time I get a tingling of nerves as I arrange the gear before I launch out up the flake towards the finish. And what a finish - on a good day a delicate step up and a dainty mantle shelf on a bad day a grovelling ungainly bellyflop (I’ve had a few bad days).

2) The Grooves/Overhanging Arête - Cyrn Las - E2 5b
I’d done The Grooves twice before but my mate had never done it. A deal was made - we’d do the route but with this spectacular finale. It’s an amazing finish to a superb route. A nervy traverse to the arête, a big jug to heave up on, another one a bit higher and then some more technical climbing to finish. All done with massive exposure.

3) Astral Stroll - Carn Gloose - E1 5b
Pete was working in Cornwall for a year and was staying at the Count House - there had been a spate of robberies and the CC wanted a resident warden so he had free accommodation for a year. I went to stay with him for a week and we did lots of superb routes. This one stands out as being particularly memorable. A gently rising traverse just above a very choppy sea through a maze of overhanging rock. The climbing wasn’t that hard but the situation and the complicated rock structure made it feel a grade harder.

4) Heart of Darkness/New Morning - Mowing Word - E1 5b
This was one of my first routes at Pembroke. After a slightly daunting abseil (aren’t all abseils on sea cliffs are a bit worrying when you’ve not been down there before?)to a belay at the high tide mark (a reminder that you’ve got limited time). There’s an awkward move up to the traverse line then across the wall in a superb position above the sea. The route finishes across to the left but it’s better to move up right to the jamming crack of New Morning for a great finish.

5) Great/Bow Combination - Cloggy - HVS 5a
It was hard to choose my best route on Cloggy - this is one of the easiest I’ve done there but very memorable. We were camping below the cliff and had just finished a superb days climbing in glorious weather. After tea back at the tent it was earlier than we realised and still warm so we dashed up for a final route. We climbed this route quickly in lovely sunshine, although the hard bit was a bit tricky and bold, and finished just as the sun was setting. The whole cliff was bathed in sun and the views were superb - magic. We did Vember the next morning very early - I think that was in the sun as well though I’m not sure the sun touches that part of the east buttress. It was a while ago so I maybe wrong.

6) Equinox - Fairhead - E2 5b
We had a great week at Fairhead a few years ago. Dry and sunny for a week - a bit of a novelty for Northern Island. This was one of the best of many superb routes we did. It’s been described as two Cenotaph Corners one above the other. It’s not  - it’s much better than that. It’s longer, harder and more sustained. We celebrated with a couple of pints of Guinness in Ballycastle.

7) A Dream of White Horses - Gogarth - HVS 5a
I did this route on a very early visit to Gogarth, not long after ‘that photo’ appeared in Rocksport. Having seen the photo it had to be done. We approached it with some trepidation as I think it was given Extreme at the time (no E numbers then) and also we had never been into Wen Zawn before and weren’t too sure where the abseil point was. But we must have got download. Once in the zawn we were totally gobsmacked and a bit daunted. The climbing was very reasonable and very absorbing so you soon started to enjoy the situation. I remember having a worrying time seconding the final pitch with very little gear between me and my mate, the rock a bit suspect and the route not obvious and all above big overhangs.

8) Left Wall - Dinas Cromlech - E3 5c
Maybe the best pitch in Wales! A fantastic route with lovely climbing, good gear and a superb situation. When I did this route I was climbing really well and thoroughly enjoyed it. I remember getting towards the top just before the traverse left, where a lot of people come to grief, and telling myself not to blow it - and I didn’t.

Book - I was going to choose ‘The Meaning of Liff’ ‘cos it always makes me chuckle but have decided to request the full set of Wainwright’s Guides to the Lake District Fells - I can then spend some time planning how I am going to get the rest of them done when I get rescued.

Luxury - Family photo album ( does this count as two books?)

 

Desert Island Climbs of Roy Small

White holds Line 43 March 2015 The Edge second refused to follow (who would that be?)(Lies, all lies (Ed))

1) Desolation Row Great Zawn 1981 with Paul Carling

If it’s atmosphere you want then this climb has it in spades. A single big pitch just off the vertical in a dry zawn with enclosing walls all round. You will feel very alone in here and this feeling increases all the way up the route. Never very hard but sustained and with lots of small runners that just don’t quite convince that you are having fun. Towards the top and the steep grass slope you sort of run out of the little cracks that sustained your moral this far and the solid granite that Cornwall is famous for becomes a little rotten. That’s why I still remember it and the climbing itself is excellent.

2) Rock Idol Pembrokeshire early 80s with CJ

Rock Idol is a great climb well known to many of you and already gets a mention in these annals. To me it brings back a memorable and slightly bizarre ascent I did with Chris in the early eighties. In those days Chris and I would often get to Wales for a Christmas week which being Wales was often not very fruitful. This particular year was much the same. We chose Pembroke because my parents lived there and we could get fed and looked after and be in comfort sitting out the storms and intense cold that we had for most of the week. Our last day dawned in total contrast and we headed out to the crags as fast as we could. It was still only ten degrees but a bit of watery sunshine appeared and it felt Mediterranean. Rock Idol was a wonderful salvage for the week.

3) Hope Idwal Slabs Winter 1984 with Marilyn

Twas in the bleak mid-winter and I had just started courting Marilyn whilst I was studying in Swansea and she was in Sheffield. This involved going to the bank every few days for bags full of 50p coins for the public telephone. One of the coins worked because we arranged to meet up in Capel Curig at the North London Mountaineering club hut of which she was a member. It was a cold year and it took me about 6 hours in sub-zero temperatures to get there on my little Honda 125cc bike. Next day with the temperature still at about – 8 degrees C we decided that a route on Idwal Slabs might be possible given the very limited gear we had with us, just a rope and a couple of slings. I can remember the climbing being fairly easy but very cold and a bit dicey. I was using the very old school method of carrying pebbles in my pocket to jam in the cracks for belays and runners. Marilyn never wavered, which was a good sign and we topped out in good order. There followed a bit of an epic getting across fields of sheet ice without crampons to get round to Devils Chimney and the descent. Hope was rewarded because we were married nine months later.

4) White Slab Cloggy mid Eighties with Marilyn.

This was a big day out for us in the mid-eighties, but it was summer and the weather was good. The climb took the whole day as we had a party ahead of us and had to wait for each stance to become available. In addition we bumped into Angela Soper and Caroline Fanshaw who were on West Buttress Eliminate which shared a stance at one point. The climbing was well within my capabilities but the lasso took me ages to achieve and was not a great deal of use when I got it. I got to do all the leading and really enjoyed it. Great positions and you could feel the history all the way.

5) Caesar John Peel wall, Dovedale early 90s Marilyn refused to follow.

I had climbed some routes on this wall a few weeks previously and been attracted to the line so resolved to go back for a crack at it. This climb epitomised everything that I valued in a climb at the time. Obvious line brooking no deviations but always the hope of a good runner after the next move. The line is very steep with very small finger jams so the runners were harder to get than one would have liked. I suppose I should not tick this one because I did not know there was a second pitch, although it is much easier

than the first. I only found out today when checking the location for this paragraph. It made an impression because it was just about my last route before a fifteen year gap in my climbing career.

6) Time for Tea Millstone 2011 ish with John Mid.

This had been a great ambition of mine as a younger climber but I had never raised the courage to give it a go. After time out of climbing for 15 years or so I came back into it as a grumpy and re-honed my skills indoors. Not great preparation for a Millstone crack and mantleshelf classic. All my protection techniques were hurriedly relearnt at the top of that crack before the traverse out left onto the blank wall. No more pro so just the upward psychological pressure from my grumpy teammate below to get me up those balancy mantels to the terrace. Having never been known for excess courage, I was very gratified by that ascent so thank you John Mid.

7) Portokali Taxidi Kalymnos 2013 Marilyn refused to follow.

This is a great route that starts with a boulder problem that took me about four years to solve. I had naively thought that it would be all over when I got the first big jug only 15 feet up. I had completely misjudged how overhanging it was all the way to the top. Somehow no matter how good the holds got the more desperate I got to finish and I had nothing left when I did.

8) Wings for Life Telendos South Face 2018 with Marilyn

Mentioned by some already, but it gave Marilyn and I one of our greatest days out in recent years. We stayed at Rita’s and walked in early and whilst the walk did not take too long we had a bit of trouble locating the start until Marilyn found the cryptic set of funny shaped wings painted on the rock. After that it got better. We had sussed out that if we kept to the pitches as described and I led the first pitch, then I would get the two harder pitches higher up and so it worked out and we could lead through all the way. The hardest bit was the layback section on pitch 7 which is much harder than advertised. The finish is a delight as you arrive on a nice flat area that is a great contrast to what has gone before. It is a long walk down and back so the beers in Rita’s were especially welcome and that helps to make a great route too.

My favourite book to take would be “Boat Building for Beginners”.


My luxury would be a “build your own climbing wall kit”. 

 

The Desert Island Climbs of John Middleton

1. Goliaths Groove – VS 5a 22m - Stanage Edge – 1968 – Clive Rowland. This was my first VS lead and what a route it proved to be. It has everything, commencing with some superb jamming (hands, legs, feet, chin, you id it), the perfect placement for a ‘bomb proof’ Moac, a pull over onto a steepish slab and then a bulging wall that may be beaten into submission by either a thin layback (my first time) or good bridging moves (definitely easier).

2. Sirplum – E1 4c 5b 50m – Chee Dale – 1975 – Bill Renshaw. Another first, this time into the E1 grades. We all know this route. A gentle confidence building first pitch beneath an awe-inspiring overhang, then an always awkward move leaving the ledge before big holds take you out and out and out. It was ‘mind blowing’ then and still was some 9 repeats later (yes, honestly, 9!).

3. Tyrannosaurus Rex – E3 5c 5b 4c 115m – Gogarth - 1978 – Rod Brown. This is a route that once done, will be remembered……. forever! First there is that electrifying view from the Promontory. Then there is the swinging abseil onto the sea washed rocks. Then a series of quick, slippery, foot-wetting jumps to the base of the route. Then the climb, and oh, what a climb!

First, wedge into the base of the leaning crack, then make slow, undignified shunts upward before attempting to revert to laybacks and the first possible runner, a Friend 3. Fear inevitably means that this is so placed that it will be irretrievable by the second. But who cares, what’s £30 against my life! Now, feeling much safer, it is possible to continue the struggle with a couple more reassuring placements and finally an exposed easy traverse rightwards to the belay. Rod’s turn now. Steadily up to a roof, a blind and gripping grope leftwards to a delicate upward line and onto the second stance. Rest. Discussion. Upwards and through the dodgy roof or upwards to the traverse line ofDream? We choose the latter. It is possible to overdo the excitement you know!!!

Postscript. On three further visits I shamefully lost two more camming devices – the crack never gets any easier!

4. The Moon – E3 4c 5c 5b 80m – Gogarth – 1994 – With Peter Kaye. Every climber wants to do this intricate, exposed and exhilarating route. We were no exception and finally took up the challenge some 6 years after having first done T-Rex.

Access is via the usual gripping Gogarth abseil followed by a short grovel to the base of the climb. We then tossed a karabiner. I loose, and Peter very efficiently shoot’s up the first pitch. My pitch, the second one, changes character immediately and had I not spotted a peg to aim for and shakily clip I may never have made those first few moves. Then onto a steep wall, round a corner, up onto a narrow ledge where there should have been another peg or two or three but there was only rust, near panic and nothing below. Even Drummond described this section as ‘strictly spacewalking’ but by breathing slowly and not looking down it became possible to reach a good peg and short descent to the almost hanging belay. Wow! That really was something! Peter followed and was equally as impressed with the situations. He hastily passed me and headed up the wall above to overhanging but juggy blocks and on into a peg protected groove, once more ‘spacewalking’. And then, suddenly, we were there – we could breathe again! Sensational is the only word for The Moon!

5. Comes the Dervish – E3 5c 40m – Llanberis - 1994 – Peter Kaye. With the advent of Extreme Rock, we found it necessary to broaden our horizons and try some Welsh slate. Comes the Dervish is the only route in the book, so this is what we had to do. The line is brilliant, almost dead straight with only one small overhang (rather like Awesome Left Wall!). I led off, but in an obviously far too cocky fashion, and slithered back down the first 3m at least four times before a micro nut gave me the confidence to start moving properly. The climbing was then excellent with small sharp edges for hands and feet with small wires giving good protection. The roof proved not too difficult (apparently a crux for some climbers) and with occasional breathers to keep calm the top was reached with a big whoop! Three stars again, or maybe more!

6. Ichabod – E2 – 5b 5c 72m - Scafell East – 1995 – Peter Kaye. I had climbed on Scafell Crag as long ago as 1976 but it was to my shame that I neglected the East Buttress of Scafell until1995! In that summer our first visit was to be ‘Ichabod’, a highly rated ‘Hard Rock’ route brilliantly written up by Allan Austin. Our own ascent proved to be an almost identical experience as Austin’s was. The only exception being that we considered the 5c crux should be 5b and the 5b, a frightening lower traverse, should be the 5c. But a brilliant route nonetheless and all on excellent rock – nothing more to be said!

Ichabod stimulated us to return on the three following weekends to what must be the finest crag in all the Lake District!

7. Behemoth – E1 5b 5a 48m – Gunards Head - 1996 – Peter Kaye. Even with only moderately rough seas, as it was when we did it, this route has a particularly high adrenalin rating! It commences from the base of Right Angle with a ‘dodgy’ traverse into the Zawn followed by an equally ‘dodgy’ stretch/jump to the belay ledge. Once there, it is dark, dank, noisy and prone to splashes from the waves – in other words ‘quite gripping’ even when belayed! Panic and good jamming lead up the gloomy corner to an improbable mantle-shelf move. Luckily, we had read an article by the learned future secretary to be of the Grumpies Climbing Group which said it was permissible to use the bolt here…..so we did! The remainder of the route was pure, exhilarating pleasure with good rock, good moves, sunshine and well beyond the reach of the roaring white topped waves. At the top we ‘whooped with joy’ at having just overcome hell!! Another memory to cherish forever.

8. Mars – E1 5a 5a 25m – Swanage – 2002 – Peter Kay. This was our first route of the day, our first route at Swanage and when we peered over the edge into the ominous Black Zawn, it was nearly our first defeat. This was intimidating, it must be more than E1! We finally added a couple of prusik loops and made the slightly sideways abseil onto a small ledge and wet traverse into a miserable black corner belay. But, once established and mentally stabilised an amazing climb emerges. This somehow finds its way steeply, and safely, around at least three roofs, into grooves and cracks and used every contorting move in the book! A route up there with the most memorable and a sensational start for 10 days at Swanage!

And a book? Well, it must be the Local Flora!


The Desert Island Climbs of Brian Rossiter.

1. Leviathan (direct) - HVS 5a - Dewerstone

I started climbing when I was 14. My brother Mike used to take me out in the milk van (another story) and we'd climb on Dartmoor and local sea cliffs. Bouldering didn't exist as a concept then but we used to do a bit of that. Wall climbing was on barn walls outside my back door. Gear was almost non-existent in our house but we had a rope (Viking, hawser laid), hemp waist lengths and one Moac nut along with a series of tractor and engine nuts on bits of old rope. I'd read we should have drilled them out for safety but we couldn't, so didn't. GrumpyRoss_3

Mike didn't lead much so I ended up doing the leading. We arrived at the Dewerstone on the edge of Dartmoor one Sunday. I led both Central Groove (hS 4b) and Climber’s Club Ordinary (VS 4b). I felt I was flying and Mike pointed me at Leviathan. Cocky Brian launched into action only to find that it was steep, strenuous and a bit difficult to protect with the meagre collection of nuts that we possessed. I struggled and fought my way up the start and where the easier option for the route steps right, that I was unaware of, I went straight on. Or at least tried to.

I ended up in a snotty heap on the floor, shattered and frustrated. I'd lowered off on a tractor nut and then had to go through the ignominy of rescuing it. Clearly, I wasn't up to steep and strenuous climbing. Jamming? What's that all about?

The following weekend Mike and I ended up repeating the whole farrago. Brian ended up a shattered and disillusioned junior climber on the ground again. Mike gave up on me at about that time.

It wasn't until a year later that I found someone to climb with who was willing to suffer my obsession with climbing Leviathan. Well, they volunteered to hold my rope as I teetered up the direct route. It had been my bête noir at the time and every time I am on the Dewerstone I make a point of climbing that route - for old time's sake.

Unknown climber on Leviathan



2. Old Friends - E4 6a - High Neb, Stanage

GrumpyRoss_9Heady days as a student in Sheffield meant I could play to my heart's content on the local crags each evening. Nigel Baker and I would shoot out and indulge ourselves at weekends and after "work".

Our first attempt at Old Friends was worthy but, in simple terms, a failure. As you get onto the start of the route you move into a poor, shallow groove with the possibility of a wire. We found out much later that the perceived wisdom was that you needed an RP. We had hardly any gear and no money anyway. Hanging there I struggled to find anything that fitted. I came back down, rather quickly. Nigel followed my example and eventually retreated too. However, we had a Clog 1 on wire and Nigel (metalwork teacher in the daytime!) thought we could file the Clog down and it would fit. We abandoned ship and came back the following night, file in hand.

In the words of Cinderella - "it fits!" Well, we had to take even more of the edge off the nut and I had to fiddle a bit but I felt ok to lead up to the difficult move onto the undercut flake. Protection in place in the undercut I felt energised to layback around and take on the stretch up to the horizontal break. Wrong. It is not the most relaxing place to hang around. My lay-backing prowess was being sorely tested as I couldn't reach without potentially barn-dooring off. A flash of inspiration and a trick I've passed on to several climbing friends. Instead of putting your left hand as high as possible up the flake/crack on the side put your right hand in and high. Cross your left across your body and reach. The top left corner (good hold) on the horizontal break was well within reach. Though tired, the final pulls up the wall on the right flowed and an exhausted Brian flopped onto the top.

Nigel still has the filed down Clog nut on the wire. We were climbing Old Friends in the mid-70s. The slot we placed the wire in worked for us then. Today, the slot has mostly worn away and you have to be even braver to attempt the route. And if you do, don't forget the cross-over routine. It works for all, even those of you of a diminutive stature.

Mark Stokes on Old Friends

3. OGrumpyRoss_6 ld Men of Hoy (E1, 5b) and Stoer (VS, 5a - well, it should have been!) - The far, very far, north

Dave Spencer was 50. The Old Man of Hoy was on his hit list in his fiftieth year along with Vector (Tremadog), etc., etc.

Much has been written about the ascents of this sea stack so I'll focus on that which may not have appeared elsewhere.

It was the Friday at the start of half term. I arrived home from work at 4.00 and, having packed the night before, met Dave and his partner Pat in our Sheffield garden for a cup of tea. Leaving at 4:30 Dave took the first driving shift. Totally uneventful. I took over the driving north of Edinburgh. Totally eventful. Within half an hour we were followed by a police car for circa 50 minutes. I have never, ever, driven so carefully in my life. It was as if I had the Highway Code in my lap. Pat was snuggled down across the back seat of the car covered in duvets etc. Dave was dozing next to me. I decided to make up for lost time on the east coast road. Enter one deer stage right, screeching of brakes, sliding car and Pat ending up in the rear foot-well. Deer saunters off. One hour later enter one fire engine, lights blazing, from a side road on the left, screeching of brakes, sliding car and Pat revisits the foot-well. Just before Thurso a sheep jumps off a wall and Pat checks out the foot-well for the last time. Arriving at the ferry we slept for a couple of hours and went via Stromness to Hoy to get the van across the island to walk to the climb.

The stories of ascents of the climb are well documented. For me I kept a secret from Dave. Unknown to him I was climbing (and led the crux pitch) with a half bottle of whisky down my tee-shirt. He led the final pitch onto the summit slope and I followed. The first thing he saw of me was a hand holding the bottle above my head as I appeared over the top. We had a drink and even offered it to two, unknown, Sheffield climbers who vehemently refused saying they had to get off the stack. Softies! After emptying the bottle, we abseiled off with Dave getting covered in fulmar puke (not me though) to join Pat on the headland having been bitten to death by midges. Back to the pier head for three miniatures of Highland Park. Stromness is a wild place on Saturday nights!!

Sunday and we were at the Old Man of Stoer. Kit off, swim across, kit on and off we went. No problem - so I thought. Pitch 3 and Dave sent me the wrong way (too high or was it too low?) and I ended up traversing at about 5b/c across the headwall facing the mainland with no gear to place and, ending up on a ledge below a runnel with a stopper 2 as a belay. I brought Dave to me. I should have known. Runnel equals water passage. The skies opened and we were standing under a waterfall. The only option was to abseil off the stopper. Which we did. Kit off, for what it was worth and swimming back to Pat who took photos that will forever remain locked in a vault. Lochinver was less wild that night but exceptionally generous. Dave and I were given a free whisky (that means an English double in Scotland) because the bar maid overcharged me by 50p. And I got the 50p back as well. How good is that?

GrumpyRoss_8

  • Old Man of Stoer
  • Old Man of Hoy
  • Artist, Pete O'Sullivan
  • That's us! 24 hours from a Sheffield garden to the top.


 

 

 

 

 

4. Dream/Liberator - E3, 6a - Great Zawn, Bosigran

The leap across the chasm in the Great Zawn to join the start of the route caused the most controversy as Mac and I approached the route. To those of you that have not done it, it is a 6 foot across, 6 foot down, jump onto a sloping ledge high above the frothing sea. Easy you may think, imagining it from the safety of your sofa. You'd be right if you are the first to go with a safety rope above you. Gripping to be the second which ended up as being me! The first adrenaline rush of the day. I joined Mac along the ledge at the stance and looked up at an imposing wall of granite. GrumpyRoss_11

Gearing up I set off up the initial groove and wove my way up to the overhang. Route finding was not easy even though I had read the guide before we set off. Stiff climbing, technical and balancy with some gear. At the overhang I stopped, tried to fix some gear (near the roof and failed to find any) and spent 10 minutes trying to pull through it to get onto the top "slab". The direct approach wasn't working. Keen to make a clean ascent a rather desperate, wild, strenuous layback off a small edge onto a small foothold on the lip eventually solved the problem. Standing up and puffing and shouting at myself "COME ON, YOU CAN DO IT" allowed me to calm down. Good job because the slab above had no gear and was exceptionally thin. The holds got larger as I went up from those pencil thick to those becoming the size of the side of a matchbox. Puffing and focusing on the shallow ramp I got to the upper roof and traversed right to a really rubbish semi-hanging belay (more adrenaline materialised at that point). Small wires seemed to be all that was there.

After a few more minutes to calm down I brought Mac up to join me. I was really pleased that he also found the roof moves challenging! It was his turn and he disappeared from sight around the corner and up to cracks, a traverse under a roof and final crack system. Following was brilliant apart from the cam that Mac placed deep in a crack that was impossible to get out. I hated leaving it but there was only so much I could do in a really strenuous position. He said afterwards it was a case of desperation as he put, I suggest slammed, it in.

An absolutely brilliant route that tested strength, skills and nerves. And as for the wild move through the roof. I should have read "Extreme Rock" to see the picture of Rowland Edwards doing that same move to get the info I needed in advance. It may have saved a little energy at the time. But then again...

"Ash & Rich" on Dream/Liberator

5. Great Wall - E4, 6a - Clogwyn D'ur Arrdhu

GrumpyRoss_1 Nigel Baker and I had one day (Sunday) available to shoot across to Cloggy to climb this iconic route. I'd never been to the crag (and haven't since). Racing across on the Saturday night we had a beer or two and then drove up the track from Llanberis; we could in those days and slept in the back of my Astra estate. At about 4.00am we awoke to rain hitting the metal roof. After some swearing we decided to brave it out and eventually drove back down to Pete's Eats as it opened for a full set and mugs of tea. The clouds parted and although dank we went onto the slate quarries and had a great day completing 5 routes. Back to Pete's for more tea.

The afternoon was still young and I suggested going back up to Cloggy for a look and, if the route was dry enough, to have a go.

It was dry and Nigel after a minimal "you want to lead/I’ll lead" discussion led up the butch, first pitch. He likes that sort of thing. Gear everywhere. He was happy to thug his way up. He was not happy thinking about (as he did for the previous 24 hours) the second pitch and I led through. Absolutely stunning climbing. Yes, little gear available and some fine, balance moves but the feeling of exhilaration as I moved off to the right at the top still stays with me today. Awesome position, awesome climbing!!

We snatched victory from defeat that day. Driving home to go to work was an altogether dull experience in comparison.

Unknown team, top pitch, Great Wall


6. Motorhead - 6a+ - Eldorado, Bernese Alps

Rob Powell on Motorhead

I don't do climbing holidays. Never have, probably never will, not big ones anyway. I prefer being married. With the family packed up in the car Jude and I headed off to Switzerland to join Graham Parkes, Chris Craggs et al for a "few days" climbing. And so it turned out. Great company and great climbing. I was satiated, not divorced and the family estate car moved on to Italy for a camping sojourn. GrumpyRoss_5

This was the time, if you remember it, before mobiles. Dave Vincent, who was also in Switzerland, wanted/agreed to do Motorhead with me if it could be set up. I left him with my father in law's landline number, in England, for him to call to say where he was camping and when he wanted to do the climb. We went touring and I called Jude's dad often, very often, to see if I had any messages. On our last day in Italy the message came through that Dave was camped, with a team, near Eldorado. We drove that day to join them.

Dave and I left the campsite at 4:00 the following morning and drove (1h) up the valley to the hostel overlooking a dam. The two hour walk in, in the dark, was nearly uneventful apart from blundering into the core of the dam in the dark and nearly being knocked off the narrow path high above the reservoir by a fleeing Ibex (?), deer anyway, crossing between Dave and I. I hid four cans of beer in the lake for our return to the bottom and walking out.

The climb itself was absolutely stunning. Setting off on the first hard pitch at 7:00am. with a potential fall onto a block beneath certainly focused my mind. We led alternate pitches and each pitch was an adventure; to me anyway. We clipped fixed gear that was very well spaced apart and carried some trad equipment if and when we could place it. The slab pitches were as good as Etive and the mixture of slab, wall and overhanging grooves continually kept me "interested". The potential for dramatic falls was continually present. Leading up the final wall before Dave completed the last "easy" pitch left me gasping for breath. Fighting every instinct to give up I arrived at the stance with a sore throat from the effort, the gasping and the heat.

We walked down (2h) and going for the lake-cooled beer found it had been stolen. Harrumph. The walk out was straightforward though seemingly long. Arriving at the hostel where the car was parked we threw down two steins of lager in the sun and drove back to campsite. At the tents Graham had been about to set off to rescue us. Families were concerned as we had been away for 15 hours and were urging him to take a rope and a first aid box (!). Dave fell into his tent and was ill all night. It was a national holiday and the rest of the teams/families and I went into the village to celebrate. What a brilliant day!

 

7. White Wand - E5, 6a - Stanage

I can't remember who it was that suggested it, but a rope was hung over White Wand and many attempts made to top-rope this route. This was before the existence of mats that could be piled up underneath to protect a near-certain fall. I think someone pointed me at it because I have a penchant for arêtes.

The serious stuff is in the first 30 feet with a challenging lower half (15ish feet) leading to a careful move onto an arête to a horizontal break followed by GrumpyRoss_7the final 30 feet of wall.

The initial attempts did not go too well with the first wall being not only tricky but also near impossible to leave and establish oneself on the arête. The shallow foothold below the move reaching the arête was in such a position that as soon as I reached up I barn-doored off to the left. Time and again I struggled up to the move only to swing out and off. I went back a few times in the following weeks and struggled to find the solution. Eventually I found that if I put the front, outside edge of my right foot (by the front of the little toe) in the shallow foothold the front corner of the boot just stopped me turning as I spun off. I could then reach up and catch the arête for the next move, getting the left foot onto the edge of the upper section and then laybacking up the wall to the horizontal.

The solution was there. I just had to solo it. No point in leading it as there was no gear anyway. After a few more goes on the top rope to build the confidence I set off sans-cord. I knew what to do. The first moves went well. Outside of the right foot in place. Reaching for the arête I bottled it. Climbing back down was probably more frightening than the moves I had avoided doing but I arrived back on the ground, safe and vowing I would be back.

The following weekend I persuaded my next-door neighbours' (climbing) son to come out with me to White Wand. If only to call out the mountain rescue team. No audience this time, just concentration on the job in hand. I had spent the week going through every move in detail (even in bed at night!) and to be sure I put the top rope on it for one last time to be certain I had got it wired.

The lower wall went smoothly. The toe bracing routine worked. The hand up to the arête felt firm. The left toes on the edge of the wall above felt positive. The right foot up onto the wall. The scurried layback upwards to the horizontal. Ace!! And then the realisation that there were a further 30 feet to go up easier ground that I had not covered or thought about. I almost blew it but after a few minutes to calm down I completed the task.

Me on White Wand.

GrumpyRoss_10

8. Great Arete, E5 5c Millstone

It was a Sunday and my in-laws were staying. I had strict instructions. If I wanted to go climbing I had to be in the Poacher's Arms in Hope for a family lunch at 1.00pm. Or else!!

As with the other routes in the Green Death area I had top-roped Great Arête previously. With Dave Spencer holding the rope at ground level I set off from the half-way ledge clipping the rusty, degrading pegs and tat at lower ledge level before heading out right and reaching up to the "flake" on the upper right wall. The flake that is not really a flake has an inconsequential crack on the side of it that took an RP (of sorts). So, after a bit of fiddling I placed it and clipped in. I grabbed the arête and pushed down with my right thumb on the top of the flake and made to move up. The weight and position of the rope was such that it was pulling me off as I set off. Shouting down I asked Dave if he could belay on the half-way ledge where I had climbed back to. A second Dave, Dave Clay, was at the top taking photos and said he would belay me from the ledge, and he abseiled down to take over.

Getting my head back together I went up to flake position again. It was a case of take a deep breath and forget the protection. Pushing down with the thumb, laybacking the arête and throwing my left foot out and onto a pebble at the edge of the wall I gradually pulled myself up so that my right foot went onto the top of the flake. I was committed and in full layback country by this time. Stepping up with the left and putting the right on slight imperfections in the wall I repeated the move several more times to reach the first real hold just below the top.

I shouted "YES!!" at which point Dave thought I was falling off and tugged the rope in really tight. I screamed "SLACK, SLACK!!" and clung on for grim death. He gave me slack and I covered the last few feet to a massive round of applause from around the crag. That has never happened to me before or GrumpyRoss_4since.

And as for my family lunch. My wife looked back at Millstone as they drove past and saw my orange jumper half-way up. She knew I would not be on time. I got the appropriate telling off when I arrived at the pub an hour late. And how could I tell her that I had just completed what I consider to be the most amazing and mentally challenging route in my climbing career.

Me on Great Arête. Green Death area, Millstone

Artist, Pete O'Sullivan







Luxury Item: A lifetime's supply of:

Book: "This Thing of Darkness" by Harry Thompson. For when you think things are not going well for you. GrumpyRoss_2



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Desert Island Climbs of Michael Charles Warwick.

I’m not sure I’ve chosen the right routes even for myself, let alone according to the apparent criteria I’ve picked up on from the offerings so far: biggest epics, routes I’d (never) do again, the partner, the moment. Do we boast, grab bragging rights, act humble before the forces of nature? Well, we all know it’s all just BS anyhow, Conquistadors of the Useless, nothing more. But a noble endeavour nonetheless, so in something like chronological order here goes…

(Besides, whatever I put down here, my efforts trump those Desert Island Car Washing high points!)

1. Sloth, The Roaches: HVS 5a/circa 1976


I picked up Bob Howie – an ex-secondary school pupil of mine:

“So where do you fancy climbing, Bob?”

“The Roaches.”

My gut reaction and subsequent palpitations were a knee jerk reflex to knowing immediately just what I’d have to do there. I’d needed a lot of tight rope seconding it a year or two before but it was already too late; my wheel was already in spin.

I recall ‘coming to’ as I parked the car. I’d driven the whole way from Marple without any awareness of doing so. And all I can recall of the route was, hanging right there at the lip of the roof discovering that I had failed to transfer my only big hex from under my arm (the one currently holding me in place) to just around my neck. Better press on I thought …

I wonder if those creaking flakes are still in place. Would my hex have fitted? I won’t be going back to see.

2. Quietus, Stanage High Neb: E2 5c/circa 1978

I’d taken the monster off this trying it back in the pre-cam days and within 6 inches (honestly) of reaching the top. Unknown to me a couple of opposing nuts had lifted out as I moved up and I finally came to a stop back down by that little roof capped groove ten or fifteen feet off the deck. Still not a statistic - yet! All that was circa 1978.

It was one of those golden, magical, sunlit Stanage evenings when I found myself with a crowd of the Black and Tans and a nice, rigid stemmed number 1 Friend. I knew exactly where that was going – where my Friendless alter-ego would not dare to go! And so it did, and so did I.

It was that evening that I mentioned a preference for a trip to Scotland over our habitual summer alpine aspirations. John Gosling picked up on the idea and beer enhanced ideas, as they are wont to be, were hatched. Isn’t it always so …?

Thus came about a sunny, brilliant week: Glen Coe, Etive (slabs were always the Gosling strong point. I was the roof thug) and the start of a 12 year partnership that only ended with John’s move to Hong Kong and mine to Oregon in 1989. But that Scottish trip provides my next Glen Coe, Desert Island choice.

3. Trapeze E1 5b 5P, and Big Top E1 5b 5P/1978 Aonach Dubh/1978

What a week. Gosling (remember he’s the slab’s man) even talked me (roof-man) into leading Swastika on the Etive slabs. But that would be one of those ‘never-again’ choices. (Of course, like the rest of you, I was beginning to work my way through Wilson’s Hard Rock bible.) There was Carnivore and Shibboleth, but for me the highlight has to be our full day on Trapeze and Big Top. I guess we originally went there for the former but got carried away – one just wasn’t enough. I don’t recall any especially memorable moments – just the satisfaction of climbing remarkable lines in great company and without a hint of an epic. Pure, distilled elation.

4. Right Wall, The Gromlech, E5 6a/1987

This ridiculous idea was long in being hatched – I had my eye on it despite watching from the road a leader fall from the second, high crux at the porthole above the sloping ledge. Which he bounced off before apparently trying really hard to make it back to the deck. Not a happy camper. Especially towards his somewhat over casual belayer. The exchange was quite clear right back down on the road.

For my attempt we chose the wrong day – gathered at the base was an international women’s meet. It might even have been Catherine Destivelle, but maybe possibly some other young French star that had Jill Lawrence rapping along side her to show her how to use trad gear. Nothing like learning on the job! And she got to test it too after that same (but not quite so long) flight from the porthole before abandoning ship. I wasn’t impressed. Or, rather, I was very impressed and was quickly going off the boil.

I knew of only one solution – a quick warm-up solo: Dives/Better Things I knew would do it. And it did. I hit Right Wall on the run. Two details have stuck with me: We’d been told a 2½ Friend (which we didn’t have) was essential for a crucial pocket just prior to the first crux But it isn’t! A 7(I think) hex inserted lengthwise and then turned was bombproof. At the porthole I lingered quite some time and I swear I found a poor HB placement in some incipient crack down near my knees that I figured just might support a lower off. The nearest gear at this point is quite some way away back (over what would have been a very uninviting, sequencey down climb) on the sloping ledge that everyone seemed to hit if they blow it on this crux. A year or two later, rapping down Right Wall line after doing some other route I looked long and hard for that placement to no avail. Talk about psychological pro!

5. Cemetery Gates, The Gromlech: E1 5b/1988

This had been my first notable lead and with Bob Howie again. We’d done Old Holborn on the Carreg Wastad (gets E1 5b today but I recall it being given HVS 4c back when men were men and all that. And I also recall The Gates getting less of its current grade too. More like old school, 5a). Anyhow, I figured that I was going well and that The Gates might just trick me into thinking I might be OK at this climbing lark. Pride and all that, minus the fall!

So it was more than 10 yrs later I found myself walking up to the Gromlech with Dave Sinclair and his wife. But as we started up I experienced a feeling – a mixture of utter temptation and dread. I’d been soloing quite a bit by those days, and I recalled from that earlier ascent that The Gates being very solid, positive climbing. None of that friction stuff. And as I progressed up the hill I literally found myself getting lighter and more fluid by the moment. Flying too close to the sun? But it never let me down for a moment. Glorious moving and over and back down in the time it took Dave to start his route, his wife belaying. Some things you just have to do – like moving to Oregon, which is where I was heading next

6. The SE face of Stein’s Pillar, 5.10d: eastern Oregon nr. Prineville/numerous ascents over the years


MW

The SE face of Stein’s Pillar weaves its line up the centre of this face.

Oregon rock can be somewhat esoteric and mainly volcanic: Welded tuff or basalt. Everyone knows of the sport climbs of Smith Rock but for the connoisseur

you really need to get into the back country. My desert island choice here was between Barad Dur – an 8 pitch 11a trad route on Wolf Rock (don’t let the opening 5.8 pitch with its suspect rock and single (in 1992) ¼ inch bolt deter you) and Stein’s Pillar, Oregon’s “Old Man of Hoy”. Stein’s won out just because of the number of great days it provided me.

 

 

 

 

 

The first pitch, 5.10a,, after which the going gets tough, first up a poorly protected wall and then winding its way through a series of airy roofs.

Stein’s is a 450’ free standing tower set in Ponderosa pines (despite the area being considered high desert). It is such an outing! My first ascent was with another Brit (from Yorkshire in fact: Roger Whitehead, who I met as another post grad at the University of Oregon in MWEugene). Such an outing that I had to do it numerous times with different, but frequent partners of mine: Jim Scott, my then partner Marianne Broere and a purple, Mohican sporting giant of a guy, Mike Bauer. Most times it was in singing heat, but on one occasion in a snow storm for the final pitch, but always in trepidation. The rock’s the same as Smith Rock but just less reliable. The gear is mixed – the last time I did it someone had stolen the crucial bolt hanger and I had to resort to the old nut cable hanger. I did, for quite some time, possess the summit register fading fast in its rusty old can and rapidly becoming illegible. In fact I brought it back to the UK on my return but have since archived it with the Mazamas climbing club in Portland. With it I included the ¼” bolt with its homemade hanger that I also rescued off the summit slab when I realized it had been inserted into its drilled hole the wrong way round! But don’t let me put you off ….. Take a full rack up to a gold Camelot and some RP’s. The protection is there if you look.


 

 

7. Thin Ice, 5.10b, 3 (rope stretching)P, Sorcerer’s Needle, Southern California/1993

The Sorcerer’s Needle. Thin Ice takes the central crack line from the bush at the base and doglegs right to the equally obvious crack that reaches right to the summit.



Bring your whole rack for this one for perfect pro at every step of the way and a line – well certainly second only to your other best experience. Especially MWfor jamming aficionados.

I’d never been to the California Needles let alone ever heard of the route. The Needles are nestled in the Kern river complex at the toe end of the Sierras. They’re a set of immaculate, white, granite towers set at the end of a ponderosa covered ridge up at around seven to eight thousand feet. Routes can start way down at their lower bases, but Thin Ice begins higher after an hour’s casual approach along a forest track on the ridge. The Needles fire lookout tower is a spectacle to behold.

There were two climbers on the route when I first spied it, and I immediately thought I need to get whatever it was they were having. It was one of the most inspiring lines on rock I’ve ever seen. Marianne and I were back that next day after a stargazing bivi with a delightful breeze keeping the mozzies at bay.

All I need to say is, it’s jugs, jamming and gear, followed by more of the same. Or as my, now sadly, late, climbing partner Jim Scott would say of it, “all shits and giggles, dude.”

Someone borrowed my copy of the (long out of print) guide, but I understand there’s now a replacement by Christian Solem that I haven’t seen, but just let me quote the website, mountainproject, from google, “Breathtaking and shrouded in mystery, the Needles are a series of …This is a climber’s paradise: perfect rock, beautiful scenery, minimal crowds and adventure in abundance….” Go get some of what they’re having for yourselves, dudes/dudettes!


8. Touch and Go 5.9-, and Alice in Bucketland, 5.8+R 3P Red Garden Walls, Eldorado Canyon/circa 1995


 

Touch and Go (takes you up to the lower ramp. Unknown climber - just better looking)

Alice In Bucketland (climber unknown. Photo taken from the lower ramp. The crux is the apex of the roof above the climber. Look carefully and you caMWn spot the jug on the roof arête below him that proved that key hold).

Marianne and I had moved from Oregon, via New Mexico, to near Denver, Colorado in 1993 and Eldorado Canyon was in our backyard. So I eventually became reconciled to Eldo rock (unlike back in 1997 on a road trip from the UK with John Gosling where I got my ass kick off The Naked Edge – and which I never got up despite two other tries, getting rained off both times with consecutive, very frustrated partners over on visits from the UK).


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’d spotted the line of Alice when descending from some other route, down the lower ramp leading to the foot of The Naked Edge to access the raps there. Well, the id and grade, I admit, attracted the thug in me, and looked enticing for a solo. But how to get up to the start of the route that is situateMWd well up the lower ramp to which there is no walkable access? It would have to be the one pitch: Touch and Go, that takes you to the foot of The Naked Edge from which it’s just a scramble up to Alice’s start.

Well, that was the plan. Touch and Go got tricky at one spot but the stopper for me was the bulge/cavity like section at the top with some decidedly rickety, crucial jugs. On lead these are acceptable, but solo ….?

I retreated somewhat, but then where else to go? (There’s no way down from here except by rapping.) But round an arête on the left was a promising wall though nothing I was familiar with. My mother always said I was lucky, and so it was that I arrived on the lower ramp, and eventually at the start of the main objective, Alice In Bucketland. I always listened to my mother.

I started up, but then an overhang/arete 40’ up stopped me until after another bit of retreating I spotted what appeared to be a jug – a high and committing reach that would get me rightwards around the roof/arête onto the main wall. That worked, but was certainly uninviting to reverse. The crux of the route is another tricky roof. Getting it started is the problem, but then you reach Alice’s buckets. And I recall instinctively throwing a heel hook over the lip to reach the next line of buckets. (This is the arched roof you see above the climber in the photo.) 5* for the wow factor, I thought.


Interesting climbing remained for dessert served up with breezes, sun and not a single soul in sight to break a brilliant panorama over the canyon.



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