Crumble

I could feel the hold crumbling under my fingers and knew I was off straight away. The familiar lurch backwards, the milli-second flap of stomach butterflies, the sub-concious grab of the knot, the peculiarly unattached "what's going to happen next?" sensation. Of course, all that happened was that I fell a few metres onto a nice shiny bolt, but taking a lob is still always exciting. Serves me right for using the wrong holds.

I got the route, Match if You're Weak, next go. Another of the great routes on Moy's Big Flat Wall ticked. Now that the trees are gone this place seems to be becoming the most popular crag for miles around, especially now Mr Nisbet has added a couple more easy routes. Apparently it's not uncommon on a sunny evening to see a queue for Little Teaser, the crag classic 6b+.

Other than a couple of exciting-but-safe run-out routes at Farrletter on a sunny evening last week, the weather hasn't been conducive to getting out much. ***(As an aside, why do people only seem to top-rope at Farrletter? It just polishes the routes and drops a load of shit on them when the rope erodes the top of the crag. All the routes I've done or tried have been safe enough. Either man-up and lead or bugger off to somewhere the routes are easier, like Kingussie. Rant over)***. I'm getting plenty of exercise doing montane bird surveys (basically paid Munro-bagging and bird watching), so shouldn't complain too much, I guess. I'm hoping that when my contract finishes at the end of July there'll be a month of brilliant weather to play with, but if August is anything like last year, I won't hold my breath.

The Fruit

A video still from Laggan 2: Gunfire Font 6b(ish)

Not too much to report of late. I didn't get the job I interviewed for so it's looking like it's back to survey work this spring and summer - really enjoyable work but generally not very well paid. After that, who knows.

I've been trying to train a wee bit since I've had lots of time off so far this year, in the hope of making one or two gains on the rock (a man can dream). I've been mixing up a combination of deadhangs and repeaters, and a few basic strength exercises at home, running, bouldering and circuits at Glenmore Lodge, bouldering on the savage Bettsmaker, and occasional leading at the Grantown wall. Mostly though, I've been getting out bouldering as much as possible.

Cleaning up the local rock has kept me really psyched over these last damp few months. I've started writing up the Laggan boulders but there's still plenty to do down there. At Creag Ruadh, aka Laggan 2, aka Laggan South, I've counted about 20 problems that have been done or are waiting to be done, all weighing in around the Font 5-7a grades - the makings of a really nice wee circuit. I've still not fully explored the crags above the boulders so there might well be more.

Despite visiting it first, I've not done as much at Creagan Soillier, aka Laggan 1, aka Laggan North, but I think that's where there will be more harder problems.

Anyway, here's a few more pics from some of the Laggan 2 problems:

Sobotka's Neck, Font 6c+ ish

The Detail, Font 6a

What's in a name?

Steep moves on the big face, Creagan Soillier, Laggan

Sod's law. After I bigged-up the Laggan boulders on Soft Rock Richie and Steve were keen to come down for a look and, of course, it rained. Not to be put off (there's not much else to do once you've driven to Laggan) we walked up to Creagan Soillier for a look-see. The big face remained perma-dry so we had a play on the right-hand problem and strolled about in the drizzle looking for lines.

Richie rain-dodging

As I've previously mentioned, Mike Gale et al. did some of the problems up there back in the day and he wrote them up in his wee 2006(?) Strathspey bouldering guide. However, no names were given to problems, which I think really detracts some of the poetic mystery and appeal from the adventure. "The 6c up the arete" doesn't get me excited or make me curious, but by giving it a name it becomes definite, a real identifiable problem with a character - and the same goes for routes. Deliverence, A Dream of White Horses, Orion Direct - there's no doubt that these names all mean something more to climbers than simple lines up rocks. As you may have noticed, I'm really keen to develop the Laggan boulders and spread the word, but feel like a bit of an arse if I go giving other people's problems names, so what's the deal with retro-naming other people's problems?

The Lonliness of Obsession

Strange days these. I've been working contracts for the RSPB for almost three years now, but my last one ended at Christmas so I'm starting the year with lots of time on my hands but no money to spend on fuel for adventures. When I'm working I always complain about the lack of time to get out. Oh the irony! The application closing date for what could potentially be my dream job came and went on Monday so all I can do is sit around and hope I get the call offering an interview.

In the mean time I've regained my status as the only/keenest/most desperate boulderer in Strathspey. Armed with rope, jumars, prussicks and all the wire brushes I can carry I've spent this week visiting some of our small collections of boulders and giving them a spring clean. The sad truth is that I'm probably the only person who'll benefit from all this work, but it's already paying off with one or two good new problems and lots of oldies in better nick.

In particular the Aviemore local's favourite, Burnside Bouldering Wall, has had a face lift and now you can top out all the problems. The desperate crimpy wall in the middle finally gave in to my attempts. I'm sure Mike Gale and the old school will have done this years ago, but at least now there are holds rather than moss at the top. I also went to re-aquaint myself with Jules' find at Creag Pityoulish and the highball wall at Creagan a' Mhuilinn, both of which are typically Strathspeyian, to coin a word: quite an effort to get to but actually pretty good once you get there. Also typical of round here there are very few proper hard problems (proper hard for me means into the Font 7s), but lots of good mileage 'circuit' problems up to about Font 6C. On paper the Cuca Boulder sounds like it should be what I'm looking for, with a smattering of two and three star 7A/7A+ problems in John Watson's Bouldering In Scotland guide, but the sad truth is that every time I go for a look its dank, dripping and uninspiring.

However, this all pales into insignificance next to the Laggan boulders. There are two seperate areas either side of the village and I know that over the years a few of the locals like Mike, Jules and Scott Muir have been up and climbed a few of the lines, but for some reason word has never spread to the rest of the Scottish bouldering fraternity. It seems mad when folk are out scouring the high mountain corries in the remote North West for the last great problems when these perfectly good venues are right next to the road in the central Highlands. Quite bizarre really, given that they're as good a collection of problems across the grades as any places I've bouldered in Scotland. Now I either need to get very strong and good very fast, or gather a gaggle of handy climbers to mop up the projects, and then I'll try to write up a wee guide for them. It'll give me something to do to while away the hours.

Holy Buck

Time was short this weekend. All activities centered around a mad dash to and from Glasgow on Saturday night to the Buck65/Holy Fuck gig at King Tut's - Sarah was working on both Saturday and Sunday so we had to be there and back in one night. A bit of a mission but it was well worth it. There's a bit of a Canadian band invasion over the next few weeks and there's another night-raid in store when the elusive and truly god-like Godspeed You! Black Emperor play at Barrowlands on Dec 8th. It's no exaggeration to say that seeing them will be the realisation of a life ambition. Oh yes.

So, not enough time on Saturday to head oot west (and not much decent weather) and not enough wakefulness to join the Am Fasgadh Sunday session. So, I took a gamble with a local venue I'd been keen to explore for a while, the Creagan Soillier boulders at Laggan. Mike gave them a brief write-up in his local guide, saying something about them making a good wee spot if people made the effort to climb there and keep them clean. So, armed with several wire brushes (the Homebase Value set is a bargain at £2.98 for three different sizes), ipod, flask and gardening gloves, I was all ready for a voyage of discovery.

Now, I'll admit that in my keenness to get out in the past I've been guilty of cleaning and climbing on some pretty desperate bits of choss, and my fear was that these would be just another non-venue - dirty, small, eliminate - but in all honesty, I was impressed. Set on the slopes below the broken crags of Creagan Soillier, above the oft-driven through village of Laggan is a small boulder field: cleaved from the hillside, debris from geological history. Most of the blocks are too small to bother with, but amongst them are five or six big beasts, worthy of bouldering note anywhere, let alone the backwater of Strathspey.

I spent Saturday hiding from showers under a blank highball leaning face - a project for the travelling wad - with more convenient lines up either side (although sit-starts will bump them up to meaty grades). Between showers I took a few strolls around, checking the other blocks for the next visit on a dry day.

And Sunday was the dry day. Blinking through the fug of sleep deprivation, a looming cold and fatigue from trying the same move fifty-times in a row the day before, I staggered back up the hill to the blocks. So, I had a bit of a circuit boulder - working my way through the boulders, trying lines, failing on most, getting up others. The only problem I kept coming up against were damp mossy/licheny top-outs. I did what I could, but next time I'll do more brushing and less climbing. It won't take much though, and with a bit of publicity and the passage of more feet this should become known as a decent, accessible central Scottish venue. If only...

Where I hid from the showers for most of Saturday: Two well-chalked holds and lots of steep blankness.

Strathspey Climber Part 3: Boulders

Fourtet and Walking on Aviemore's Waterfall Boulder.

Continuing with my theme of the delights of being a climber living in Aviemore I’m now going to show you round the bouldering we’ve got to hand.

For me, it’s probably more important to have some semi-decent bouldering nearby than it is to have good cragging. Sure, I prefer to climb routes, but when you and everyone else works for a living we all know it can be tricky to co-ordinate a steady supply of partners. Sometimes it’s just easier to head out for a lone boulder after work. So, now I’m sure you’re wandering why I’m so happy living in Aviemore, since it’s hardly known as a bouldering Mecca? Well, look again. OK, maybe adjust your views of what comprises a quality boulder, then look again.

Unlike the brilliant bouldering that Fort William climbers have so close in Glen Nevis there’s no single venue in Strathspey, but if you start to hunt around and are willing to put in a little brush- or spade-time there is plenty of potential out there. Over the last few years a few intrepid Aviemorons (for that we are), led by Mike Gale of G2 Outdoor, have been scouring the area for rock and compiling them in a local’s guide. And the truth is that there’s actually quite a lot out there, it just needs more keen folk to open their eyes and get out to clean things up and keep them that way.

I definitely think that that’s one of the big differences between Highland climbing and elsewhere – there just aren’t as many climbers. I’m pretty sure that there are places in Strathspey that are in exactly the same state as some well known venues elsewhere were when they were first developed, the difference is that in the Lakes or Wales or the Peak there’s a steady stream of boulderers keeping them clean and chalked, so they become reinforced as quality places to go. Up here, exploratory bouldering is in it’s infancy so we’re still waiting on that steady stream…

Anyway, enough moaning, lets go climbing:

I’ll start close to town, heading through the forest to Burnside Bouldering Wall. Dappled with sunlight beneath the birch trees on the edge of the Burnside plantation, this clean wee wall is the Aviemore local’s secret training crag. The endless there-and-back traverse is great for endurance training, with just good enough rests at each end, and now that Mark and Gregor have cleaned the top there are a few good (and rather tricky) up problems too. When you’re done here, and if you don’t mind a walk, a kilometre or so further up the hill is the Waterfall Boulder. It might not be perfect for an out-of-the-car post-work session, but the location and views across the strath make up for the walk. This odd block is perched over a small burn, providing a couple of lip traverses, a few easier ups and some eliminate hardness, just don’t fall in!

A rough video of the Burnside Traverse.

While you’re sitting there, supping from your flask with adrenaline-shaking hands, you can’t help but look across to the granite corries of the Cairngorms and wonder about the bouldering potential there. You’ll be sad to know that, bizarrely, given the amount of bare rock, there isn’t that much bouldering. Unless you fancy a long trek into the Loch Avon Basin with your pad (which is to be recommended, I hear) your best bet is to head to the Link Road Boulder above the ski road. I had dismissed this as a bit of a silly stone until recently - the problems are all granite slopey weirdness that seem to take me ages to fathom - but with my new ‘local = worthwhile’ hat on I’ve had a couple of really good sunny evenings up there recently. Although the problems are limited, it’s definitely worth a visit.

The other accessible Cairngorm spot is Cranberry Rocks, up in Coire na Ciste, but if I’m being honest, I didn’t think any of the problems were worth the almost universally dodgy landings last time I went up there. I should probably go back with that hat on and prove myself wrong.

Continuing off the beaten track, have you ever heard of the Laggan boulders, or Inshriach, or Creag a’ Mhuilinn, or Pityoulish? Well, they’re all out there, waiting to be re-discovered and re-climbed and eventually, maybe, to be written up and published and expanded on. I grant you, the strength of Strathspey isn’t necessarily that it has the very best climbing nearby, it’s that is has a big variety within easy striking distance, and with enough active climbers doing their bit it could and should be recognised for that.

OK, enough spray. Now it’s time to get back in the car and head North up the A9 to the genuinely classy bouldering near Inverness. I’m no authority on the Inverness scene, but have spent a bit of time bouldering up there and can reel off a list of venues and problems that are as good as anywhere I've bouldered in Scotland (in good conditions!). Ruthven, Cummingston, Brin and Scatwell, to name a few. Over the past few years the likes of Richie Betts and the strong youths of Mike Lee and Ben Litster have started to put the Inverness area on the map for Scottish bouldering, so there's a fair bit to go at.

Forever failing on Masonic Finger Shake on Cummingston sandstone.

In my final (thrilling) installment of 'Strathspey Climber' I'll talk about all the other stuff you need to know about as a climber in these parts: walls, weather, coffee, beer, gear, etc.

Strathspey Climber Part 2: Ropes

Mr Winter goes all-rounder: Guy Robertson working Ubuntu at The Camel on a dreich summer's eve.

I may have mentioned this before, but the weather has been a bit pish recently. Consequently, I’ve been doing almost all my climbing close to home in Aviemore. Normally I would spend most of my time driving out to the West Coast, and although West is still best I’ve started to see my local crags in a new light. As such, I want to share my new found enthusiasm. So, first things first, lets stroll down to the Mountain Café for a coffee, then set off on an exploration of the local rock.

The Strathspey climber can split the local crags into a few categories. Obviously, we’ve got the Cairngorms - the big daddy show-offs like the Shelterstone and Hell’s Lum and the more accessible Northern Corries. Then down in the strath we’ve got the schist outcrops. After that come the not-as-local but still accessible crags up in Strath Nairn and round Inverness.

The Gorms
I won’t talk much about the Gorms; the acres of flawless granite are no secret and I’m by no means an expert. The fact that a whole large SMC guidebook is dedicated to them is proof that there’s a lifetime of climbing up there. But I will mention two things I’ve learnt:
1. Despite providing the backdrop to Aviemore life and just because they’re nearby doesn’t mean you climb there much. This year there’s been so much snow and so much rain that there have only been a handful of really good dry days this summer. I’ve only done 4 Cairngorm routes so far. However, last year was much better, so I guess it’s swings and roundabouts.
2. The Northern Corries are overlooked in summer. Despite being Scotland’s most popular winter crags, hardly anyone climbs there in the summer. This is possibly because there are very few well known routes, and the cleanest are all pretty easy, but a look in the guide shows that there are actually loads of things to go at, and the crags get sunshine late into the evening. And they’re only a 45 minute walk from the car, so perfect for post-work pleasure.

The Strath
In a perfect world we’d always be able to climb on pink Cairngorm granite, but cruel reality means we have to look elsewhere for our fun. This is where the schist crags come in. In their own right I guess most of these crags are minor venues with only local appeal, but I’m starting to realise that if you live near to them you might as well use and come to appreciate them.

So, lets start in the South at Creag Dubh, the jewel in the crown. Scotland’s premier roadside crag with over a hundred routes between Severe and E7, etc etc. It does have a reputation for scariness, but there are loads of routes and not all of them are death on a stick. The style is generally steep and positive (not my finest style) and I’ve been a bit soft and not done much there. Time to man up.

Starting up Cunnulinctus at Creag Dubh (Photo: Steve Crawford)

Moving North we next get to Kingussie Crag. I’ll be honest, I don’t know much about Kingussie either, having only been there once. From what I hear, it is worth visiting, especially for the lower grades and is South-facing and open so less of a midge-fest than other spots. In fact, as I write this I’m wandering why I haven’t been more! North again we get to Farrletter, the one people always want to bolt or just top-rope. It's a funny old place but I am quite fond of it. Yes, it’s pretty bold, yes, it’s pretty hard, but I would argue that if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen. I’ve done (or fallen off) 5 routes there, some of which were safe as houses, and I can personally vouch for the integrity of at least 3 of the old pegs. Saying all this, if someone did bolt it it would be a fun, if rapidly exhausted, local sport venue. Finally, Huntly’s Cave. Another ‘nationally’ known crag, steep, positive and safe. It can stay dry in light rain, but equally can get super-midgy, and it’s not huge so you do run out of routes do fairly fast. As an example I went there last night to try a route I'd not done. It was drizzly, warm and very midgy and I ended up bailing from an HVS. Not a fine hour...

Then we've got the other ones – Burnside, The Badan, etc.. If you thought Farrletter was esoteric then you aint seen nothin’. Scattered about the Strath are loads of wee faces and chunks waiting for you and your wire brush, but whether the attention they get will justify the effort is a different story.

Beyond
One of Aviemore's strengths is it's location. Lots of places are easy to get to, if you're happy to put the miles in. In terms of climbing that is still local (less than an hours drive away) we have The Camel for long, steep, perma-dry pebble pulling on crazy conglomerate, and only 5 minutes from the car. An amazing stamina training crag, which is growing in popularity, and deservedly so. In fact, it's been the saviour of this wet summer so far. Then there's Duntelchaig. From what I hear it’s quite popular but I’ve only been once to climb the classic E3 Dracula. Must do better. Then a personal favourite, Tynrich Slabs for two-teired gneiss slabby goodness near The Camel. It’s quite small so there aren’t many routes, but the ones I’ve done have all been great and the rock is superb. Definitely should be more popular than it is. Finally there's Moy, The Camel’s friendlier cousin, with a few more routes and more in the 6s. Superb, long conglomerate pitches and only 5 minutes from the road.

Steve Crawford getting his feet into Puffball on the lower tier at Tynrich.

Well, I think that sums up the trad and sport climbing close to hand, so next time I'll get involved with the world-famous Strathspey bouldering. Prepare to be inspired...

Strathspey Climber: Part 1

Man alive, it’s been wet. I can’t remember a day when it hasn’t rained up here in Aviemore in the last month. So much for fleeing from the West Coast monsoons of Fort William to live in the dry Central Highlands. I got back from Pabbay in mid June, all psyched and keen for miles of mountain rock and sea-side cragging and have been shut down by rain at almost every attempt. I’ve always known that to be a climber in the Highlands you have to endure a substantial amount of crap weather, and if you can it makes the good times all the better, but honestly, it’s beginning to get a bit boring. I know Blair has bailed from the Highlands to North Wales for the rest of the summer.

I think it’s fair to say that North Wales is the Promised Land for most British climbers. It’s where everyone seems to live, or at least, it’s where everyone seems to spend a lot of time, and for good reason. Almost all the variety of styles of British climbing, including many of the very best, are accessible within a tiny area, so even if the weather’s crap there’s almost always something to do. Consequently there are loads of climbers around so it’s easy to find keen beans to get out with, and lets face it, that’s half the battle – finding folk to share the adventures. I think another reason it’s so popular is that despite being fairly tucked away and quiet, it’s not that far from big cities and modern amenities – you don’t have to be an all-out balls-out yokel to get on there.

So, I got thinking about the places in Britain where climbers seem to live and about living here in Aviemore and thought I’d write my musings down in a series of blogs. Maybe the Strathspey tourist board will hire me to promote the area for climbing bums.

Generally, when I tell non-climbers I live here they assume it’s a great place to live as a rock climber - with the Cairngorm mountains right here there must be no-end of rock to play on. But the truth is not so simple. As the highest continuous lump of ground in Britain The ‘Gorms are out of condition for most of the year – either they’re caked in snow or they’re hiding in a rain cloud, so we have to look elsewhere for rock. And while the high tops are capped with beautiful pink granite, down in the Strath we have to settle for schist, (I’m not being rude), and this schist seems pretty reluctant to bare itself.

Naked schist: Creag Dubh's Great Wall (Pic: Steve Crawford)

So, over the next wee while I’m going to spray a bit about my experiences of living here and the climbing we’ve got at our fingertips. Stay tuned...

A Matter of Style

From the outside, the sport of rock climbing looks pretty straight forward: you find a bit of rock and make your way to the top. What could be simpler? Well, what the casual observer doesn’t know is that it’s far from simple. Once you get sucked into this small, incestuous world you begin to realise that climbing is actually a hotbed of infighting, one-upmanship and ego, and for one reason: style.

Climbing is all about style (and, alas, I don’t mean trendy branded jeans or luminous lycra). By style I mean the way in which a climb is executed. Climbers, being self-obsessed pedants (me included) are keen to try to be the best they can be, and this means climbing in good style. Any old loser can get to the top of something in poor style, but it takes a good climber to climb the hardest routes in good style.

Getting to the top without falling off, placing all the protection on the way up, without prior knowledge, is the Brad Pitt of climbing style. Anything else comes lower down the scale, including working out the protection, watching someone else climb the route, pre-rehearsing the moves or falling off and trying again. Some would argue if the route is at a level of difficulty that makes the Brad Pitt style impossible then you shouldn’t bother with it, that by climbing in a poorer style you’re just reducing the route down to your level – beating it into submission. For me, though, trying the occasional route that’s miles above my current level is a great way to improve my Brad Pitt style climbing, and so long as it’s a route that I won’t one-day want to climb in better style, and that I’m not damaging the route for future climbers, everyone’s a winner.

"Hey! Look! It's Brad Pitt. Oh, wait. It's not."

Over the last few weeks I’ve done all four of the above-mentioned cardinal sins on the same route; I’ve worked out protection, watched someone else climb it, pre-rehearsed the moves and fallen off and tried again. In the end though, after a few failed attempts I managed to lead The Art of Course Climbing (E5 6a/b) at Farletter Crag on Wednesday night, and it was bloody great fun. It’s a short, very gently overhanging schist crag, and being steep and fingery is not a style of climbing I’d profess to excel at, so it was all good training for something….

Mid-flow on The Art of Course Climbing

High Five!

Shirts vs. Skins

Stevie Hammond on Polldubh classic Ressurection (VS 4c***). All photos: Siobhan Miller

Sweaty palms, worn-out finger-tips, big grin.

It's been another week of blue skies across the Highlands and the Aviemore posse have been out getting scared, pumped and sun-burnt.

Pete's Wall (E2 5c**) at Huntly's Cave was the start to a good week, climbing with housemate Stevie Hammond and some chap called Julian Lines (whats he ever done on grit/granite/gabbro/limestone?). I then proceeded to almost kill Stevie when a huge hold came off the top of Dead Tree Wall (VS 4c*). Luckily I caught my fall on the profusion of colossal holds in a Mission Impossible stylee. Stevie dived out the way just in time, but hurt his ankle in doing so. Better than stoving in his skull. Be careful out there kids.

Siobhan Miller on Polldubh's other classic VS, Damnation (VS 4c***)

Jules then showed us a new bouldering spot above Loch Pityoulish which is absolutely incredible. Roof cracks, juggy prows, and scary jamming abound. The next day I teamed up with G2 Mike, Jules and Duncan for more exploratory bouldering, this time in Laggan. Lots of stunning lines to fall off, but just mind the bog. Mike will be bringing out a new Strathspey bouldering guide in the near future, so watch this space for more esoteric masterpieces.

Topping up my tan on Kaos (E2 5c**), Blacks Buttress

Then it was Saturday and a trip to the holy grail of West Highland cragging: Polldubh. Blue skies, no midges, tops-off-for-power. The highlight for me was heavy-breathing my way up Kaos (E2 5c**) up on Blacks Buttress, but in all honesty sharing a beautiful day in the mighty Glen, on great routes, with friends, is always a sheer delight.

Stevie getting bored while I gibber high on Kaos.

I think Steve wins.