More of the Same

New York Girls - Laggan from Gareth Marshall on Vimeo.

Just stuck this wee clip up on Vimeo. I went back to Laggan 1 last week and got psyched to see it all dry. The seam in the steep wall to the left of the problem in the video is 'THE LINE' of Laggan 1, but it's way, way too hard for me so I'm keen for someone to come and destroy. There's a project nearby that I'd love to be mine, but how do you stop other folk without being an arse? I guess the beauty is that no-one ever goes to Laggan. For now....

I've still not fired up the trad yet but have climbed more sport routes than ever before at this time of year. The Ticks Ate all the Midges went down quickly at Moy and on Sunday I did the V5-into-F6a 'B-Movie' at Am Fasgadh before falling from the last hard move of Mactalla twice in a row. So close, but yet... Yesterday was the first tick of the year of the stupendously good Stone of Destiny at the Camel and I'm off up there in a bit for more stamina plodding in a bid to train for Mactalla. Hopefully all this sport will make trad feel marginally less stressful when it begins, but I won't hold my breath.

Working at it

Just another brilliant wee problem we found in Torridon (Photo: Richie Betts)

The annual brief punt at being a runner is over for another 10 months so it's a chance to try to fulfil my ceaseless ambition to actually become an OK climber. I've got high hopes for a winter of training and getting strong, but lets be honest, I've had this hope every year for a while and I'm still a weak and scared punter. To get psyched for the OMM I got into reading lots of Mark Twight's thoughts from the Gym Jones website: maybe it's time to take his advice, turn up the punk rock and get all medieval on the fingerboard. Quotes like

"Acquiring the spirit necessary to win, which includes a positive acceptance of pain, is difficult in a society where comfort is more highly regarded than capacity. When genuine physical fitness is the norm for so few it is hard to avoid being dragged into the morass. You become what you do. How and what you become depends on environmental influence so you become who you hang around. Raise the standard your peers must meet and you'll raise your expectations of yourself. If your environment is not making you better, change it. We did."

get me all psyched for a Fight Club-style rebellion, quit my job and live the dream. But who am I kidding? Difinately not my bank manager. Just got to fit the beastings around the rest of life.

Last winter - the winter of all winters - I made the strange choice of ignoring the cold stuff and concentrating on trying to be a rock climber. I justified the decision to myself when I redpointed The Warm Up at Am Fasgadh and started to discover the wealth of brilliant boulders in the North West. I feel like I'm still on that trajectory from last winter, still exploring, just on the edge of getting up some routes and problems that might herald a new standard for me. I just need to apply myself a bit more.

Saturday saw a tiny bit of progress on Malc's Arete in Torridon - still failing at the same place as before, just failing slightly better. Train, train train and return. Sunday was the first of (hopefully) many winter Am Fasgadh Sundays, with the local beasts wadding about in typical Am Fasgadh style (i.e working hard projects). I had my first look at The Shield, which will hopefully become a winter project, so long as it's not too wet. First half OK, second half hard. My lack of consistent route-climbing really shows in a) getting pumped 3 metres off the deck, and b) being scared of falling. I think the latter is really the thing that holds me back the most in all my climbing and is something I need to confront.

In Highland boulder news, strong munro-bagger and Scotrail-sponsored youth Murdo Jamieson (I stole that quote from Richie) made the second ascent of Richie's monster prow The Essence in Torridon, after three specific weekend raids from Glasgow. Beast. I'll post a video ASAP. And just in, Richie added a sit start to his own Applecross creation The Universal in Coire nan Arr yesterday, making it longer and "proper 7b". Like I know what that means. Video here.

Murdo in heaven on The Essence, looking out at Liathach. (Photo: Richie Betts)

Couscous/Smash

Falling leaves, burnished golden hillsides, the first snows - the clock inevitably ticks towards the OMM next weekend. The training runs start to wind down to the all important tapering period before the race (more time free for climbing). Team admin begins (the classic cous cous vs. Smash debate). Old race maps lie strewn around the house, studying route choices, brushing up on navigation. The October traditions of the last seven years.

Living and training up in the Highlands, I'm hoping Dartmoor will feel relatively warm and dry, but I won't hold my breath - these events have a good record of attracting the worst of the elements.

It's now at the stage when there's not much more I can do to prepare. Now it's time to sit it out, think, relax. Be ready for the first glimpse of the map and the sound of the starter's airhorn -then it's time to act.

Still There

I've managed to stay on the tightrope a bit longer. Another climb/run weekend passes with a trip down to auld reekie and The County. Back Bowden in the harr on Saturday allowed enough dry rock for a nice wee boulder and route or two. I'd not encountered trad climbing for a while so got a good work-out on the 3-dimensional The Arches.

Sunday was the real reason I headed south: the Pentland Skyline race. The cloud was down the whole way, making some of the intricate route finding tricky, but I was pleased to come in 15th. 2 places higher than last year, although 3 minutes slower; I'm blaming the weather for those 3 minutes. Konrad was 6 seconds behind in 16th and OMM partner Duncan came 21st, so OMM prep is in good shape. Dunc's sister Katie was the final Team Towers member to cross the line, in a very respectable sub-4 hour time. High fives all round.

The big news, however, is that Mr Betts got his Torridon project on Saturday: The Essence. Not many lines like that hanging around. The Bettsmaker is beggining to pay off. Nice one bruvva!

Richie on a previous session working what would soon become The Essence, Font7b+ish: a perfect highball line low on Seanna Mheallan, Torridon.

Balancing

Despite last weekend's little mishap with the disappearing bothy I've tried to keep up with the OMM training. Having spent the summer doing survey work in the hills I think I've got an OK base of fitness, which I'm adding to with a few intense short runs in the week and longer hill runs on the weekend. This Saturday's run was a nice circuit in the Coulin Forest, south of Torridon.

Running is a lot like hillwalking I guess, as it's a great way to get out and explore places you don't know. Fortunately it doesn't take as long and doesn't require knee-length red socks. Over the years of inhaling the contents of climbing guidebooks some hill names become engrained in the memory, but I still don't really know where some of them are, and more importantly, how you get to them in the pre-dawn dark of a frosty winter. So, after this latest run I now know a wee bit about Fuar Tholl and Sgorr Ruadh and their beautiful cliffs. Will this be the year I get to see their wintry side?

The only problem I'm having with OMM training this year is that I'm equally psyched for climbing as I am for running, and trying to do as much as possible of both is a delicate balance. As much as I'm really looking forward to the imminent OMM suffer-fest, I'm also looking forward to that time when it's over and I can knuckle down into the autumn sport and bouldering season. Projects ahoy!

Sport project: Mactalla at Goat Crag. I had my first proper play this weekend and was muchos impressed. (Photo: Murdo Jamieson)

Boulder project 1: Malcolm Smith's Arete, Torridon. Beautiful line, beautiful place, hard. Perfect.

Boulder project 2: The Scientist, Brin Rock. Fairly local, very hard (for me), a long term goal. (Photo: Richie Betts)

Tis the season

Some punter doing the 2009 Pentland Skyline. Photo: Bill Fairmaner

I'm pretty sure I've written a blog entry at this time every year for the last three years saying the same thing; but really, where did the summer go?

It only seems like yesterday that it was June and I was dangling off a very big rope half way down a large Hebridean cliff, and now look at it: the leaves are turning and the first dusting of snow has been reported on UKC. Surely it's only a matter of time before someone claims a winter ascent of Pygmy Ridge. For me, this time of year means donning the lycra and heading out running in the hills. Yes folks, it's OMM season.

I've done the OMM, or KIMM as it was, every year since 2004, so despite it being down on Dartmoor this year (mountain marathon, seriously?) I'm signed up again. I've run it with the same chap, Duncan Steen, for the last 5 years, each year doing better than the last, so the aim is high and the training is in full affect. I try to do one big hill run every weekend for the two months leading up to the race at the end of October, which means I generally don't get too upset if the weather is too crap for climbing (which it seems to be), and I get to bag one or two otherwise unheard-of Munros. Runs I've got lined up in the next few weeks are a circumnavigation of Loch Arkaig, which I've wanted to do for ages for some reason, and the Pentland Skyline race down in Edinburgh. Psyche.

Mainly, though, its an excuse to wear short shorts and lycra.

No Cigar

After rain intervened with our plans Blair took Richie and I to Dave's Cave near Arisaig. It's hard.

I'm in a bit of a quandry.

After the small gains I made to my sport climbing and bouldering over the winter I've got it into my head that I should be able to up my trad game too. The problem is that I had forgotten that trad climbing is a much more complex beast; the gains don't come in such a linear fashion. It's not just a case of being able to hold on longer or pull down harder, you've got to be prepared to do it in a situation where the consequences are bigger. Training the mind is taking longer than training the fingers.

Over the last few weeks a theme seems to have formed; after warming up on an easier route I've got on something a bit harder and invariably been shut down. I've taken two sizeable lobs from the top of Too Farr for the Bear, the E4 crack at Farrletter, and downclimbed or backed off a succession of other E3s around the Highlands. What's going on?

Fighting on Too Farr for the Bear, prior to the big ride.

In my defence, all the routes I've gloriously failed on have been pretty steep, and either super sustained, bold, or with fiddly gear, so perhaps I'm just trying the wrong routes? As we all know, I'm a slab pervert at heart, so maybe I shouldn't be surprised that all this steepness is doing me in. But what am I to do? Should I keep on trying routes in the hope that one day something will click and I'll start sailing up E3s, leaving behind a trail of blown onsights, or should I keep consolidating at E2 until I think I've improved enough? Oh, it's just so hard being me!

Racing the pump on the brilliant The Executioner, Seal Song area, Reiff. (Photo: Steve Crawford)

The End Is Nigh

Autumn in Gruinard Bay

Time keeps slipping by and the big weekend of the OMM is now just a matter of days away. My training seems to have worked out pretty well, and I surprised myself by managing to come in in 17th place in the Pentland Skyline race, taking 2hrs56. Later in the week I managed to knock a minute off my Loch an Eilein round, making my time now 18.56 for the 5km trip (being dragged around by freakily fit Stevie Hammond did wonders here). Race partner Duncan came up from Edinburgh for the weekend and we managed one last run in the hills before a week of serious rest. Now it's time to make the final tweaks and arrangements - what to run in, what to carry, what to eat, how to stay hydrated, how much vaseline Duncan's going to put on his balls. All the big questions.

Partners in crime: Harry and Stevie Hammond living the dream

Iain Small on an onsight attempt on a recent E5 6c addition to Goat Crag

I've recently found that when one aspect of either my running or climbing is going well, the rest starts to suffer, and I've definately noticed my indoor climbing has gone all to cock now that my running seems to be going OK. Hoping that this wouldn't be the case on the real stuff I made use of a high pressure system hovering over Scotland, took a day off work and hit the road northwards to get some late-season rock routes done. Now, for those that know the North West Highlands you'll know that come sunshine or showers, this place is heart-stoppingly beautiful. What I hadn't expected was how much more spectauclar it is at this time of year: the kaliedoscope of autumn leaves, frosty white glens, golden hillsides, cloud inversions and clear blue skies, and with acres of rock to play on it could just be paradise. On day one Stevie and I joined Blair and Iain at Goat Crag in Gruinard Bay, where Stevie and I got a resounding spanking on the bolts while Blair and Iain showed us how to climb properly. On day two Duncan and I went to Stone Valley Crags south of Gairloch and had a great day on perfect gneiss trad. I managed to come away feeling pleased to not fall off Bold as Brass (despite my very best efforts), reassured that there's still some fight left in me.

I suspect that these will be the last rock routes of 2009 (unless winter stays at bay and we all do a big sun dance), and looking back over the summer, I feel fairly pleased with the way my climbing has gone. Here's hoping that I'll be able to look back at the race this weekend in the same way.

Blair cruising Freak Show (E5 6a) at Goat Crag with the Fisherfield Forest beyond.

I just felt like....

I've been struggling to come up with an entertaining way to write about training for the OMM, but to no avail. So, I won't, I'll just give the facts. This is meant as a personal record, so I apologise for any boredom inflicted on the reader (if you exist).

Since Duncan and I decided to enter the elite class I've been fouling my little lycra leggings. We're gonna be rocking with the big boys so I thought that I should at least try to train properly. From my experience, success in mountain marathons is based on three things: route-choice/navigation, tactics (when to push, when to slow, what kit to use) and hill fitness. The first two of these come from race experience, practice and a logical approach. The latter comes from lots of hard work, and it's this that I'm concentrating on. Fortunately I've got an OK base-level of fitness to start from so I've simply been stepping up my running (frequency, distance and speed). Working a 9-5 week, I've attempted to split training into longer hill runs on weekends and shorter runs in evenings, balanced with regular bouldering and climbing sessions on nights off and one or two rest days. The plan is to keep increasing the workload until a few weeks before the race, when I'll start to taper it down and rest.

My longer runs have been:

• Glen More - Loch Avon - Beinn Meadhion - Bynack Mor - Glen More: 27km, a bit over 4hrs
• Glen More - Ryvoan Bothy - Strath Nethy - Coire Raibert - Cairn Lochan - Coire Cas - Glen More: 24km, 4hrs.
• Sugar Bowl car park - Larigh Ghru - Derry Lodge - Coire Etchecan - Loch Avon - Coire Cas - Sugar Bowl: 37km, 4hrs45.
• Loch an Eilein - Glen Einich - Sgoran Dubh Mor - Allt a Mharcaidh - Loch Gamhna - Loch an Eilein: 21km, 2hrs40.
• Forest Lodge - Meall a Buachaille - Forest Lodge: 13km, 1hr30.

Shorter week-night runs have generally been around Aviemore, up Craigellachie, round Loch Morlich or Loch an Eilein, the Challamain Gap or Burnside circuits. I've also started adding faster runs to the mix, either doing intervals of hill sprints on Burnside (sprint uphill 30 secs, walk back downhill for 45 secs, repeat to the top of the hill) or fast rounds of Loch an Eilein (5 km, P.B: 19mins51). So far, so good.

The next step is doing the Pentland Skyline Race just outside Edinburgh this weekend, then I'll try to speed up round Loch an Eilein in the week, then a small run on the weekend, followed by a week of pasta, resting and quaking in my boots.

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!

(T)raining

A Rainbow at Ruthven (Pic: Chris Edwards)

"So foul and fair a day I have not seen,"

So said Shakespeare through Macbeth, and so say I through my Gore-tex.

Despite the unfurling of the new season's leaf, the ululations of the cuckoo and the first clumsy steps of the lamb, the weather-watching and rain-dodging is back in effect. Like a rainy playtime at primary school we’ve been sent back inside to make-do with books and building blocks. Big plans have been hung back on the coat hook and we’re left to stare through the windows as our dreams wash away for another weekend. We got snowed off Ardverikie Wall on Binien Shaus, and even the perma-dry Heather Hat in Glen Nevis was dripping. There’ll be four horsemen on the horizon soon.

In the mean time, while we all wait for a colossal high pressure to return and sit unmoved over the Highlands, I’ve been forced back to the little stones and the pretend stones. Ruthven, Cummingston, Duntelchaig, Extreme Dream, they trip off the tongue.

Chris flashing Outstanding at the Ruthven Boulder (Pic: Chris Edwards)

Me on Sloping Off at Ruthven (Pic: Chris Edwards)

At the wall the other night Pete Hill asked if he could take some snaps of me while I worked on numerous heinous problems. Even I'm scared of me now. (Pics: Pete Hill)

Meanwhile, only my dreams keep me sane. Dreams of long evenings and the sun setting over the sea. Dreams of sitting at the top of a rock, heart racing, hands shaking. Dreams of laughing. Dreams of crying. Dreams of the ammonia-stench of sea cliffs and the ever-present dry mouth of fear. Of beckoning waves and the promise of silence beneath them. Dreams of uncertainty. Of strength of will versus strength of fingers. Dreams of standing still and watching hills and lochs march on forever. Dreams of hopping, skipping, bounding, over bogs and burns and boulders. Dreams of yesterday and dreams of tomorrow. Of always and never.

Dreams of summer

Good Training For Something

I'm not sure what it is, maybe I watched Rocky films too much when I was a kid, but I love training - hard-won improvement through honest sweat and suffering. I've been dwelling on this subject for a while recently. I've never really fathomed the old fashioned notion that 'training is cheating'. By participating in sports where grades or finishing positions exist, it seems entirely natural to want to be the best you can, but maybe that's just me being competitive.

Another reason to train: not having to stare at Duncan's arse all weekend on the OMM

What with the OMM looming large on the horizon, and the onset of the Lochaber rainy(er) season , I've been pounding the grassy hillsides and chalky bouldering walls of this land quite hard. Last week I managed a session at the Ice Factor and at Kimber's wall, the Cow Hill circuit run, a run up the Ben, another session at the Ice Factor and a 20km run in the Mamores. After a rest day yesterday I'm stoked for another session at Kimber's this evening and more running in the week. This mixture of running, bouldering and endurance circuits is just too fun, but the thing is, is it really necessary? Are my tiny, incremental gains worth the effort I put in?

For the likes of Dave Macleod and Blair Fyffe, who I happen to know put in crazy amounts of climbing training, gains seem obvious to me. One dry day in the not too distant future Blair is going to be clipping the chains on Stolen (F8b) at Steall Hut, and Dave, well, he's going to the clipping the chains on a F9a+ in Spain. But is there really any point in me trying endurance circuits with these boys when I'm still lobbing off E2s? Sometimes I think that all the work I put into doing Midnight In a Perfect World was pretty daft, considering I took a 25 footer off Travellin' Man, or bailed on the crux pitch of the East Face Route on the Old Man of Hoy.

But then it's easy to think that, and to forget that the Macleod's and Fyffes of this world have been climbing and training forever. The only way anyone can improve is by putting in the hard yards (or crimps) and being patient.

All good fun, but will it really help a trad climber?
Chris Edwards bearing down on Inspector Cleuso (Font 6c), Cameron Stone, Glen Nevis.
Picture: Chris Edwards

The real difference in trad climbing is psychology, and the only way to train that is by getting out and gibbering above those cams. But what with this being Lochaber in the rainy(er) season, there isn't much chance of that. So, back to the wall we go....

An obvious advert for training: Do I want to have to snow plough forever?
If not, I'd better put some effort in. (Picture: Sarah Jones)

______________
Soft Rock Selekshon

I may be a little behind the times, what with living and working a long way from the centres of popular culture, but two international flavoured tunes that have got my juices flowing this week are:

Rodrigo y Gabriella - Tamacun. It's the second track on their Myspace site. Latin metal - rock on.

DJ Mujava - Township Funk. The first track to play on his Myspace site. South African techno stuff. Aaaaiiiiii.

The Misty Mountains

Jones honing her skills on the sharp end on Afterthought Arete

Just a brief one this week. Mid-summer weather is currently in effect in the Highlands, so the caress of stone has mainly been replaced by fondling chalk-smeared plastic. I've taken to hiding from the rain at Scott Muir's Extreme Dream climbing wall in Aviemore, which is pretty cool - certainly enough to satiate my addiction to severe forearm pump.

Hallowed walls: Shelterstone Crag with Carn Etchechan beyond.

Jones super-styling the first and best pitch of Pygmy Ridge

On Mid-summer's Day it stayed dry in the Cairngorms for a full 24 hours. Jones was in town so we headed for the hills in search of some gentle mountain rock. Starting in Coire an't Schneachda we wove up to the plateau via Pygmy Ridge (Mod**), crossed down to Loch Avon by Coire Dobhain and popped back up via Afterthought Arete (Mod***) on Stag Rocks, then back to the car down the Goat Track. A good wee circuit, taking in some pretty epic scenery on excellent rock. Jones and I shared leads all day and it was great to see her confidence grow throughout - practice makes perfect.

Roaring melt-water heading to Loch Avon

Just because it's easy doesn't mean it's not awesome!

Me on Afterthought Arete. (Photo: Sarah Jones)

Alas, any plans for Sunday were curtailed by ceaseless precipitation. Nothing to do but light the fire and batten down the hatches in the wee cottage.

After work today I ventured up to the Link Road Boulder by the Coire Cas car park. It's a big lump of glacier polished granite that doesn't have a single good hold on it's considerable bulk. I set to work with icy fingers on crystal crimps and ragged slopers until a big squall stopped play, then high-tailed it home. There's the potential for a few evening's playing, but none of the problems are particularly inspiring. If only Glen Nevis was just round the corner.

I'm hoping the good weather of yester-month returns, as I have many a date with the magical mountain crags of this land. Surely another summer can't slip by without at least my doing The Needle or Minus One Direct. To all climbers reading this: get in touch via email/text if you're getting out and want to play, I have no mobile reception so it's hard to find partners up here in the wilderness! Ta.

The Pay-off

Its monday morning and I'm sat in front of the computer in the office, ready for a day of mapping the distribution of ethnic groups in the US for a GIS course I'm doing. Its crisp and cold outside with mix of clear blue and ominous grey in the sky and there is fresh snow down to about 800m on the Ben, CMD and Aenoch Mor. Also, I hurt quite a lot. No one area hurts the most, its just a general ache. From the blister on my left heel, up through my leaden calves to my dodgy knee and tight thighs, past the mole on my back that gets really sore by the rubbing of my rucksack to the tender bits on my shoulders where the sack rubbs up and down.

Winter?: Snow on the hills.

Thats right. It was the OMM this weekend and it was a good one. Saturday was a race-planners dream, starting clear and fast and turning into a trudge through 50 mph winds, thick hill-fog and endless miles of tussocky hillside. Duncan and I started our first A-class campaign well at 08.41 and were going strongly for the first five controls. Perhaps too strongly though, because as soon as we turned from control 5 to 6 we were headed into the wind for the rest of the day and we faded fast. The winds increased, the cloud thickened and no matter how many cereal bars, jelly babies and monkey-cum energy gels I loaded I felt drained. To make it worse my left knee started to play up and running on the tussocks was a no-go. Duncans feet started to get shafted too and it all felt very bleak. Mind you, we kept moving at a fast walk, concentrating on our navigation and making sure we made no mistakes and the controls were steadily ticked off. Walking/falling/sliding/hobbling down the last hill to the over-night camp was a knee twisting love affair, knowing that soon it would be over. I worried that it would all be for nothing though if I couldn't walk tomorrow.

The over-night camp at a mountain marathon is always an amusing place to find your self, especially when the weather is utterly vile. Everyone has their own strategies for comfort, nutrition and hydration, but the one thing that binds us all (besides the mutual misery and suffering) is 'plastic bag chic'. You are no-one without two plastic bags to keep your changed socks warm and dry inside your very wet running shoes while hobbling to and fro. Without them you are nothing.

Dunc and I were rather surprised to discover that we were lying in 14th over-night, especially since we had walked from half-way. The terrible conditions must have slowed everyone down, and our good navigation must have earned us brownie points. It made me even more worried though, because with a good position we should try to work hard on the Sunday to keep it, but my knee wasn't well. I just chewed my scrounged ibuprofen and put it out of my mind. Food, sleep and trying to keep things dry was enough to occupy us for the next 12 hours. Buddies from Edinburgh, Konnie and Kiwi Steve (both recently mentioned on these pages for Alpine endeavours), were 2nd in our class by just 30 seconds. Game on for them.

Sunday morning started as usual with the 6.00 bagpiper reminding you of the farce you are in the midst of. We readied for our 08.36 start and hoped for the best. The weather had cleared up and it was looking promising. Clear and blue, clouds scudding on the morning breeze. Maybe it was possible to push through with some dignity. Navigation shouldn't be too much of a problem, just the usual issues of route-choice and finding fast ground.

Some where on the first wake-up-call ascent my knee stopped hurting, and bouyed with the sun on my face I started to feel good. Duncan was moving fast too, and the game faces were back on. We could do this. As usual, Dunc was there with good route-finding all the way, and by making sure we were always thinking one control ahead the checkpoints began to fall. That way as soon as you reach a control you already know which way to head off to the next. A longish leg between controls 7 and 8 meant it never felt like it was nearly over until we were legging it down the track to the last control, number 10. Duncan's power-shouts to keep back the tears bemused the teams we were flying past, but we didn't care. We were both digging very deep to keep moving fast over those last kilometres. Then it was over. Crossing the line and back into the real world. All the stresses of finding little controls in re-entrants and at stream bends just faded away.

We knew we had done well because we had been overtaking teams that were placed above us over-night, but it wasn't until we had got in, had a change of clothes and some food that we realised we were up to 8th. Nice one Duncs. The Power Bar Carbo-drink never tasted so sweet!

Konnie and Steve ended up as winners in A class. Hell yeah. Go team. Although their high altitude training must be cheating, surely! Seriously though, a really good effort by those two. Just think how good they'd be if they navigated well!

Jones and Will got round well in C class, gaining about 20 places on day two, so top banana to them and to all the other yummicks who braved the utter ming of the OMM 2007.



It seems that my training: sweating up, down and round Cow Hill, the Ring of Steall, the Five Sisters of Kintail and riding home from work up the hill to Upper Achintore every night seems to have worked out alright. Just let these aches go away and bring on the winter climbing season.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

That sound is the clock counting down to the start of the OMM this weekend. It's gonna be da bomb. The week leading up to it is always a good one. Like the excitement of waiting for christmas when you're a kid, but just a painful, muddy, wet christmas with cardboard flavour cous-cous instead of roast turkey and spit and bile instead of chilled champagne.
I'm so excited. 3 days to go. I've already got most of our food. Just a few dilemmas to clear up now. Do I run in shorts and keep my leggings dry for the camp or do I save the weight and run in leggings?

This weekend found me doing one last training run in Kintail. I hooked up with the yummicks in their bothy, Glen Licht House, and Duncan (part of the dream team), Tom OG and myself ran the Five Sisters ridge plus Saileag (the first of the Three Brothers). It was probably around 20km and we made good time and I felt pretty good the whole way. I ran the 5.5km out to the car the next day and felt fresh as a daisy, which is always a bonus.

Duncan Steen: Stud

TOG at high speed on the way down to Bealach an Lapain

I've been getting a bit worried recently bacause small runs have been beginning to hurt more than I think they should, but the run on the weekend made me realise that when I'm on my own I actually run quite fast. Running with others means I can pace myself, relax and enjoy it much more, rather than just worrying about getting it done. Also, I've been doing lots of short, fast runs of late and I was worried that these might dent my ability in a longer, slower event. We'll see this weekend.....

In climbing news: The weather afforded one evening on the Heather Hat last week and I was able to reach my 'high point' on Midnight In a Perfect World a few times, but still can't link it into those last desperate moves. The toe hook is actually quite painful when you weight it, and I could only have a couple of goes at a time. Its looking like Midnight... is earning its grade and what with the nights drawing in its gonna be a struggle to get it done before the end of the contract. However, as soon as the OMM is over it's gonna be 100% psyche for climbing and getting strong. New tools for the coming Scottish winter season and some new house-mates too in the form of climbing instructors Rob Jarvis, of Highland Guides, and Danny Goodwin, of Mountain Plan. I just need a couple of bright dry days on a weekend and it'll go.

Outside of my rather small-rock orientated world, Sam Loveday and Konrad Rawlik made an alpine dash last weekend and climbed The Ginat on the North Face of the Droites in a 36 hour round trip from Edinburgh. Superb work I must say. However, on a rather cynical note, maybe it's things like 'EasyJet Alpinism' that's making classic routes come in to condition less and less. Discuss.
Viv Scott and Kiwi Steve Fortune are currently out in the Alps getting up to some sort of mischeif, though I know not what. I suspect Viv will let everyone know in due course....

I'll post some pictures when I remember to bring my camera to work.
Love and eco-freindly hugs all round.