I went to Scotland in january. It was scary

Project winter, Scotland 2013

                Climbing, as a sport it so vast and has so many different variables it almost seems impossible to cover all the basics of all of them and master it all in one lifetime, but that doesn’t stop us trying does it? A while back my climbing partner and fellow adventure mad friend David suggested we go spend a week or so up in Scotland to understand the art of what it meant to handle physically and mentally tough conditions, and of course to bag some ice routes and increase both our knowledge and experience as universal climbers. The centre stage for this would be the Scottish highlands at the peak of January and for what was to unfold, myself personally will never forget the lessons I learnt up there.

                The story begins at my workplace actually, just finishing a shift and bidding farewell to the boss’s and my manager, all wondering why on earth I would want to even consider throwing myself into such a terrible situation. And I don’t blame them really. Not sure why I have this gut instinct to go into this environment but I guess everyone has their calling in life, mine was the mountains. before I leave my manager shows me the latest avalanche warning put out by the SAIS and typically it says the area we were going into had a considerable to high rating, needless to say I just disregarded it. On the way out I have friends and colleagues all chase me down and bidding me good luck and also making sure they are in my last will and testament. On a deadline I now hit the road with a vengeance. It’s a hundred miles south to meet David and then a million billion miles north to Scotland so I was on it like a fat kid on a cupcake. Arriving at David’s house in record time (legally of course!) I get greeted with a warm welcome from the whole family. We all settle down and are fed an epic meal while talking tactics, routes and the most important thing of all, the climbing. We load the car up and after getting told to look after David by his mother and after the usual farewells as I’ve come to embrace over the years as I’ve slowly become the adopted son and we set off into the night. 

The plan was to drive through the night and stop in a layby somewhere near the border before setting off again. Even though the conditions were classed as tough Scottish winter we chose to go straight for the north face of Ben Nevis. We had our eyes set on a couple of routes and as every young climber know when you infatuate yourself with an image of a route the idea of doing it becomes insatiable, and that’s what we did. Tower ridge was our target, not one of the hardest routes on the mountain but it was one of the classics and certainly on that mountain it looked the part. Throughout the night we made several stops at service station to top up on tea and king effin chicken! (That’s KFC for anyone that didn’t know) and somehow around 2am we chose to rest up north of Glasgow, not bad for one push.  We found a layby just off the motorway and settled down there for a while, getting into our sleeping bags and resting up for the night. We were woken by local police just checking on us and after a quick chat (and showing them the milometer which shocked them somewhat) we were left to carry on the nap. Sometime around 5am we woke up to find both my main headlights had blown! And without spares we had to gamble until we got to a service station. The first one we came to had no bulbs at all so 10miles up the motorway with either full beam or no light we found a service station that did. Now a fact about modern cars, they are shits when it comes to simple jobs like changing bulbs. After battling for nearly an hour getting one in gave up on the second and even the same Scottish police team that saw us earlier that night had showed up again and had a go but failed so they let us off. I later found out that if you take it to a dealer to get done they charge you £60 labour, plus parts, plus vat!!!!!!!!!! I don’t think I’m alone when saying this but what an effin joke! Further up the road and once the sun had risen we started seeing our first Scottish mountains, and my god did they look spectacular. We push further on into the highlands, talking rubbish and banter about boobs and how Carol vaurderman was probably every boy’s wet dream which led onto finding out David had a childhood crush on the countdown presenter and thus began the “CAROL!!!!!!!!” David obviously on an epic quest in life to pull her...obviously. We make it up to the Glencoe pass where I noticed something. Before this trip I watched the new James Bond film Skyfall, in this film there is a scene with Bond and M in the Scottish highland and as it turns out we were driving on the very same road they were on. Random pointless fact over we make it into fort William at around 11am both famished we decide a proper breakfast is in order and we needed another ice screw so quickly popped into a climbing shop, got our screw and made a b-line for Morison’s where we stacked in our last real food and even picked up a bottle of jack for the week ahead.

A short time passes, we make it to the north face car park just outside of fort William where there tonnes of car (a promising sign) so instantly we change our attitudes from layback road trippers to more hardened and ready to tackle the long hike in. Our gear weighs an absolute tonne and once we have our packs on that’s it, no time to waste. Starting the walk in is relatively pleasant, then there’s the hill. Long and unrelenting they go on for ages without rest or ease. By now Dave has done his normal thing and naturally being way fitter than me he has gone completely out of sight so it’s just me for a time. I actually like this, gives me time to reflect on what I’m doing, whether I’m doing it for the right reasons, and just to let my mind do its own thing and talk hours of crap to itself. Once at the high car park (which you can only get into if you have a special key, probably by doing a special favour) we cross a fence so high I can only imagine it’s that high to stop trolls from entering human territory. From here it’s about another hour until you reach the CIC hut where normal people would go in to their pre booked bunks and rest and get warm. We on the other hand had more a part brave big part fool plan in which we were going to wild camp during our time up there, in the cold dark hole of the north face of Ben Nevis...what tits! After an hour of hunting around in the snow we eventually found a spot that came with, well what you expect from a frozen wasteland under a terrifying face, nothing! Once tent was up we instantly dived in, with light fading fast we thought it would be best to hunker in nice and early. That night we discussed what we would attempt, how bloody cold it, Carol, talked jokes and boobs from my traditional literature and ate hearty with mac and cheese. That night the wind was howling and the snow was falling heavy, by midnight I was shivering in my sleeping bag and the condensation that was building up had already turned into icicles on the inside of the tent, needless to say it was a rough night.

The next morning somehow we both missed the alarm for 6am, not quite sure how as I spent pretty much all of the night shivering and Dave had suffered a similar experience. We both woke around 8am to a completely frozen through tent! Ice had formed all over the zippers and throughout the entire interior and I had no heat in my lower body plus my shoulder (later discovered I had injured it quite badly in fact) had no heat in it at all. Having an utter shitty breakfast of muesli and chocolate we get our heads together and get out onto the face. Not many parties were up there today and the weather was pretty crap but we thought we’d give one of the smaller routes a go. We decided to climb the Douglas boulder which given our timeline was probably the best call we could make. The way up was fun dicey solo climbing over thin snow, rock and ice until you make it to a gulley where we were a bit cautious as the snow was deep and powdery, in short, perfect avalanche snow. After some decision making I take lead and start breaking trail up the gulley, it takes a lot of effort but we were making progress. A guide and his clients follow us up only to break off early or in fact in the correct place to join the boulder. He shouts to us “taking your gear for walk lads?” and we simply just shout back “making it a bit more fun!!!” we join the boulder at a point where it looks relatively easy ground and set up a belay. From there Dave leads the first pitch up some really hard terrain, jamming the axes and his crampons into any and every available crack he can find. It was a tough pitch which we graded around tech 4 and once he had battled up it, it was my turn. At this point the wind had picked up and I was getting hit by spindrift constantly and to a normal person they would just moan about it but I was loving it!!! Climbing in those conditions, having a proper adventure where death was always just around the corner, I was seriously enjoying myself. At the point of meeting Dave he took lead on the next pitch to get to a better position. This was easy walking with using axes for stability. The final pitch was led by me and was my first ever lead on a Scottish winter route, it also happened to be the crux on the normal route so I was stoked to give it a bloody nose, or get one. After making round the corner on some dicey moves I made it to the crux, a high ledge with no good foot placements or tool placements. At this point a guide who was also leading the same pitch as me had caught up, a very awesome and friendly guy we had a joke at the bottom of it and he let me have the first crack at it. For a while I was struggling, having to wedge my body into a crack then unlocking the secret to doing the crux, a butt jam! It’s a heroic position to be in, knowing if you fall you are taking one hell of a mighty fall. I managed to smash my axes into good ground and very undignifiably, pulled myself onto the summit. Standard moment of holding back a tear and screaming a mighty hoorah!!! It was an epic moment in time. The guide followed me up and congratulated each other on a gnarly route, we both set up anchor on this huge boulder and started pulling our partners up. At this point while bringing Dave up, I and the guide were just talking about the area and I was learning what I could from him. We spotted an avalanche in point 5 gulley and after having a proper scout to see that nobody had been caught in it carried on laughing and joking in the blizzard of wind and spindrift. Once Dave and the client had made it we decided to share an abseil back into the gulley and retreat route, me being the last off and just marvelling at the sheer terror this place had to offer. The descent was not a comforting graceful descent like everybody would love it to be, this is Scotland at winter and if you don’t have your guard to emotion up beyond that of a Spartan then I’m afraid you shouldn’t be there. Every step would be initially graced with powder shortly followed by an off angled boulder. By the time we got back my ankles were destroyed, back in the tent we celebrate with a bar of milky bar and a sip of jack then instantly go into rest mode for another day.

That night Scotland decided she was gunna be a bitch. Winds howling, tonnes of snow fall and my body hating every second of it. The storm kept on going until the late the following morning and when we eventually had to get out of the tent to piss the damage was pretty clear. The tent had been buried, most of the gear was coated in spindrift, our tracks from the previous day had gone and worst of all, nobody wanted to try anything due to avalanche fears. We chose to take this day as a rest day, hide in the tent and hope we don’t get too bored. To counterbalance boredom I took it upon myself to sort and improve the tents “structure”. By digging a trench around the sides and burying the edges of tent it prevented any more spindrift getting inside. I also moved rocks into place to strengthen up the stands and guide lines so snow wouldn’t build up on top like it had done. At midday I also decided to hike in solo to scout some of the conditions and lines, it was clear that nobody was trying any of the serious lines and very few were on the small less committing lines. The route we had in mind to do was a big one, called the northeast buttress it’s a long and committing buttress that takes you all the way to the summit and retreat would be far from simple. I hiked in to the point where you turn off for the gulley and thought that will do, had a look and before going too far and getting into trouble I turned back. Back at the tent I emailed my boss about a new job, there were jokes to be had, food to be eaten and preparation to be done. The night’s sleep was not a fitting one.

Next morning we chose to get up at 4am I think it was, either way it was bloody early and I was bloody freezing. We chose this morning to have mac and cheese for breakfast and ya know what? It’s bloody marvellous!! And it kicks porridge and muesli arse any day of the week!! The cold snap had come in overnight and we chose to go for it. At the CIC hut we met these 2 Scottish climbers. Both young and carrying pretty expensive equipment, we had a little chat with them while putting on our harnesses and racking up, they had met up in fort William at midnight and hiked up directly from there!!!! I mean bloody hell son, that’s commitment.  They were there to do point 5 gully. One of the guys said the weather window is good, clear day, no wind and cold weather, we were later to find he didn’t know what he was talking about and he nearly had a very bad accident. Both teams parted ways and we were off towards the buttress. It’s a harsh walk in, soft powder covering basically a scree field and my feet were destroyed. We took a while but we eventually made it to the start of the route where we noticed a few signs that tell us doing the route would be a bad idea. There was a lot of avalanche scars and the snow wasn’t frozen enough for our liking so after lot of yeah and no we chose to bail on the route and to get off the whole damn mountain, and truth be told it was the best decision we could have made. On the hike back to camp we had a heli rescue fly overhead which went into the point 5 gully area but was waved off and was gone in a flash. At camp we went straight into pack up and bugger off this god forsaken land and in a hurry mode. Like a pit crew we got all our gear packed up and started the long trudge back down to the car...2 hours away! Along the route Dave had naturally gone into speed hiker mode and me taking a more human speed to hiking with a super heavy pack which was killing my shoulders. At the point it was true murder I stopped when an elderly Scottish chap was walking his dog and taking a fitness hike himself. He stopped to have a chat and like everybody I’ve ever met in the mountains he was as friendly as if he were your granddad. His dog was also an awesome little pup that was shy and scared at first but we eventually became friends. At the troll fence I find Dave having a breather and calling his family just to let them know he is safe and well, and what our plans were. Shortly after the old man and dog turn up and we get a history lesson which reminds me when my granddad used to tell me stories which I loved and sadly miss after his passing.  The old timer then bids us farewell and we get our things together, just before we leave the 2 Scottish kids turn up and it turns out the heli was called for them. They tell us on point 5 the leader was on pitch 4 I think and as he hit his axe into the ice a massive flake that he had all his points of grip into (axes, crampons, and dear life) suddenly gave way and he took a 30m fall. The heli was called in by someone below and after they managed to retreat and send the heli off and walked out. He was lucky some gear held in otherwise there could have been a much worse situation at hand but we walk out with them and have a joke or 2 with them then they turn to take the long hike back to fort William direct. I wanted to offer them a lift but I had no space, instead I and Dave continue on. Back at the car and back into fort William we do what any smart young climber does after a terrible situation, go to McDonald’s!!! There we feast until our bodies can’t fit any more in and discuss our next move. We decided to go the northern cairngorms where the conditions were getting good over the next couple of days. Back in the car, a route set, we set off on the road to somewhere!!!

The route was full of incredible scenery, with masses of snow topped mountains and amazing forests, it all added to the reassurance that we made the right call. Passing several awesome little villages, lakes, forests and a castle which I agreed if ever I won the lottery I would buy Dave we made it to the Cairngorm mountain ski resort car park. We arrived really late and the wind was so strong we made an executive decision to screw the tent and stay in the car which to be honest, in comparison felt like staying in the Ritz. We waited until the last car had left the car park then broke out the stove. Cooking here is a logistical nightmare! All decent snow is at least an arctic blizzard away! Cooking outside is impossible (which I found out the hard way), cooking in a car is tough going and going out for a tinkle is more effort than the word effort itself!! Honestly peeing your pants was more appealing but still. We left the engine running until about 9 when we hit lights out and got some rest. The wind was so strong that night I was convinced it moved the car overnight and the following morning ice had built up on the passenger side of the car so everything had to come out of the driver door, even the boot wouldn’t open!

  The day started badly, with navigation issue and super strong wind it became a concern to stay warm and dry. It took about an hour to hike up to the crag and it was a marvel of a crag. The route we intended to climb was called fingers ridge. As the name states it’s a ridge that leads up the summit where the rock splits into two mini pillars. You could argue it was giving you the peace sign but in all honesty it was giving us the V’s and that just made us set on giving it the V’s! We made a swift pace on getting onto the face, soloing up the snow slope and getting to what we thought was the start of the route…yeah it wasn’t. It actually turned out we had started up the wrong route but instead of backtracking on ourselves we chose to turn it into a first ascent/variation. Dave led the first pitch to a good belay where I then took the lead on a frozen waterfall which was so cool! Tackling pure ice and popping the cherry on the new ice screw it became an incredibly fun climb. I led the rope to the next belay where we had the choice of a gully or going up a much more tougher mixed route, Dave being Dave, you guessed it, took the harder line up the mixed terrain which while leading it he nearly had a bad fall but managed to keep his head in the game. The rest of the route was traversing onto a ridge and summiting into the cairngorm plateau which a vast white wilderness of endless high winds and frostbite territory, probably the closest you can get to being in the arctic in this country, it looked stunning. We meet at the final belay and instantly make a B line for the descent. At this point it’s so cold my double layer of gloves have frozen solid and my clear lens eyewear was icing over a treat and my feet were feeling the strain. I had to take it a lot slower than normal and later worked out I had sprained my ankle. Taking a ridge back down into the valley we get a great view of the ski resort and the surrounding areas but my ankle was getting desperate. Limping for about an hour solid I had to first get Dave to lend me his shoulder to help me down a steep section then I took my crampon off and kept an axe to hand just in case I took a slide. It took some time but we eventually made it back to the car park where by luck the bar was still open so as men we dumped our gear and went straight for the bar, got a pint, a “mandwich” and with it being Scotland, they had homemade shortbread on sale, so I bought all of it! We used the time there to charge the phones and laptop and to have a look and see if we could work out what route we had done, still with no idea we carried on getting the grub down. Dave had a moment trying to work out the different recycling and waste bins and me just laughing point blank at him. We get informed the night was bringing in another sub chill and strong winds so we chose to spend our last day up there but instead of parking in the car park we went down the valley and parked in layby out of the wind but still on the mountain road. That night bought heavy snow in the valley, the wind was a lot calmer and temperature was manageable but still a cold night of sleep.

Sleeping in that layby was arguably a bad call, the following morning the snow had come down so heavy the road was impassable. We watched a plough and gritter came past about 3 times and thought we would give the road a crack but about a mile in the car wouldn’t make it any further. We crashed into a ditch and after a lot of drifting and wheel spinning we made the call to bail on trying to get back up there. On the turn around the car was an over steering nightmare, drifting round every micro corner and such it became a mission not to fall off the side of a cliff! When we eventually got to the bottom of the road (which had been closed off by the police) we had to get someone to open the gate for us. We had a chat with a few of the cars waiting to get up there and explained you needed 4 wheel drive to even consider the opportunity to get up it and then made the call to end the trip.

In fairness we ended it on a high, potentially putting a new route, climbing some fun stuff, having an adventure which will probably stick with us for the rest of our lives and I’ll probably bore my grandchildren with and probably the most important bit of knowledge anybody can ever have doing anything, risk assessment. Its better being able to walk away and try another time then to make a bad call and maybe never walk again. I’m pretty sure some smart explorer has said this before but I’m claiming it as my own. The fact we chose to end it there was the best call and judging by what was to follow in the press with the deaths of the 4 and the solo climber on the Ben it was clear Scottish winter wasn’t settled at all. Driving back we stopped for fuel and copies of zoo and nuts and powered south, only to be greeted at the border by endless traffic and a blizzard that engulfed pretty much all of England. Trying to navigate through this I opted to say sod it and drive all the way to Bournemouth and that wasn’t easy. I got Dave back to his family and instantly called shotgun on the shower! He on the other hand had crashed out so I decided to head back out into the blizzard and try to get home. By this stage I had already covered about 500miles in a day and exhaustion had taken me so I did what all smart people do, check their phonebook and see who’s local, luckily for me Beth was in Southampton so I called her and got a sofa for the night. The following day I got my boots back on and got back to hometown, took myself straight to minor injuries to have my shoulder looked at. I was told I had stretched my tendons and my ball joint on the shoulder was swelled. Figures, another injury to add the wall! Next was work to check in and pick up my hours, my boss Skye was the first to see me, limping and in haggard form it takes a while for her to actually get a grip on a conversation (bitch) but as things go she later organised physio sessions for me through work which was nice I suppose (and considering they told me it was 10mm displaced that was probably the nicest thing she ever did for me).

Now I leave this piece with some news, as it is clear to me that this is not the end until family, kids or death takes me. In the summer of 2013 there will be another adventure and granted we get the weather window, Chamonix watch out! The Walker Spur, we’re coming for you.

Peace out x