The Waterfall Boulder, Aviemore's new venue

Fourtet and Walking on the Waterfall Boulder

It's a sad time for climbers in Aviemore. The powers of commerce have forced Extreme Dream, our local wall, to close it's doors. Obviously, this is a real shame for the many people that have invested time and money in the business and have turned the wall into a top quality training venue, but it's also a shame for us climbers who've become so used to having somewhere to hang out and train. Hopefully since it's May, there'll be plenty of dry rock for us to get on over the summer so we won't need to miss it, but as I'm typing it's snowing outside, so I wouldn't hold my breath.

However, when the sun does come out again, we'll all be in search of some real rock, so prepare to be amazed with the details of Aviemore's new boulder:

The Waterfall Boulder

The Dream is Over

OK, OK. So it's not a new Fontainbleau, in fact, it's not a new Ruthven, so don't get too excited, but it's a worthwhile addition to the local venues (and let's face it, we need them). It's not huge, and there are only a couple of good problems, but it's a bloody nice place to hang about on a sunny evening. I'd reccomend taking a brush to continue the ongoing cleaning, and a pad lessens the potential for landing in the stream.

The easiest description of where it is is about 750m straight up the hill from Burnside Crag, near the waterfall on the forest edge, but the best approach is through the forest from the Higher Burnside housing estate. The boulder is obviously seen squatting over the burn in a small valley, on the far side of a green deer fence. GR: NH877 129ish

Problems:

1. Fourtet and Walking Font 6c: A left to right traverse of the lip on the downhill face, starting from sitting and finishing up the arete. (See video below for the beta).
2. The Dream is Over Font 6a: A right to left traverse of the uphill facing lip.

There's scope for variations and eliminates on these problems, plus a couple of easier things to do too. So, have fun.

Fourtet and Walking (unedited)

Ashes to Ashes

Well, Steve and I tried, but who are we to argue if mighty Mother Earth decides to put a stop to our plans? That's right, a week of sun-drenched sport climbing in El Chorro was called off due to the minor tectonic incident over in Iceland. Ho hum. The idea of the trip had been to get plenty of mileage early in the season for trad climbing fitness, but since this wasn't an option we decided to just be unfit and go trad climbing anyway.

So, with 5 days and a good forecast, where should be go? Of course, North Wales. So, we packed all manner of ropes, racks, shoes, pads and spare pants into the car and headed south.

Day 1: The Pass

Our heroes struck dumb by the amount of rock in Llanberris Pass

All proper North Wales climbing trips begin in Pete's Eats cafe in Llanberris, so after arriving at 2am and a few hours broken sleep in the car we breakfasted on grease and pint-mugs of tea while perusing our shiny new guidebooks. Then it was up Llanberris Pass to Dinas Mot and a combination of The Cracks and Lorraine (mainly Lorraine, but I got a bit lost on the first pitch). We both blamed sleep deprivation and polished rock for our low confidence start, but deep down I feared that maybe I've been getting too used to soft Scottish grades. Back at the car we hunted the guide for somewhere friendly and ego-massaging for the afternoon but didn't seem to find anywhere suitable so went to Craig Ddu instead. In much the same way as it's Scottish cousin (Creagh Dubh) this crag looks pretty gnarly, and no-doubt is in places, but provided us with a couple of really good, unlikely looking routes in Yellow Groove and Sea Panther. Confidence started to creep back...

Day 2: Gogarth

Almost 5 years ago I came for my first (and last?) trip to North Wales and came to Gogarth. The whole place was utterly terrifying - huge loose looking cliffs dissapearing into a stormy sea, abseils, commitment, hard climbing. Scary. I attempted to second Ali Banwell up The Strand on The Upper Teir and got well and truly schooled. I didn't have anything like the levels of fitness, technique and confidence needed to climb it, let alone lead it, and I've always held it in my head as a personal benchmark. If I can lead The Strand at least I'm not doing too badly.

Well, 5 years on I slayed the demons and climbed it. For the full tick Steve lead the second 'pitch' through the hanging gardens of Gogarth. Hooray.

I'll gloss over what happened next, but suffice to say that we abseiled in to Wen Zawn to climb A Dream of White Horses but I ruined it by climbing miles past the belay on pitch 1, leading to an easy escape back up the slab. Next time...

Day 3: Tremadog

Steve styling P1 of The Fang

One of the many reasons that there are so many good trad climbers in North Wales is that the abundance of crags they have lends them to getting committed. In Scotland we have lots of big, committing routes, but they are almost all remote and hard to get to, so I'm not particularly well practiced at being brave and commiting to things a few pitches off the deck. In Wales there are roadside multipitch crags all over the place, so you can be sitting at your desk at work one hour and then fully committed, jibbering above a dodgy belay 3 pitches off the deck the next. Tremadog is one of these crags.

Fortunately all our belays were sound and there was minimal jibbering, but we did climb three super classic routes in the form of Scratch, Scratch Arete and The Fang.

Day 4: LPT

Helena redpointing Kaffe Fasset at LPT

Rain inland meant coffee in V12 followed by a raid to the coast to sunny sport climbing at Lower Pen Trwyn on The Great Orme. There's a fair few routes to go at here, and there were a fair few folk trying them too. Not a million miles from onsighting a 7a with an odd name about pinkies and ticked the classic 6b(and a bit) Kaffe Fasset. If it's sport routes you're after though I would have to say give me a quiet day at Goat Crag or Am Fasgadh anytime...

Day 5: Froggatt

Grit friction on Great Slab

Punctuating the long drive back to Aviemore was a good idea, so we headed to Chris' in Matlock on Sunday night and spent Monday morning scorching up the classics. Joes Direct Start, Great Slab, Sunset Slab, Strpiombante, Tody's Wall and Three Pebble Slab all got the treatment. Tetttering up Great Slab reminded me how much I love this type of climbing and brings my thoughts racing back home to blank Cairngorm granite. When will the snow melt?

So, not El Chorro, but still a stonking wee trip.

Steve cought red handed on that bit of Tody's Wall at Froggatt.

A.L.E.

They say the first step is admitting it, so here goes. I'm an addict. There, I said it. An addict. My body has become physically dependent. I need. I crave. I demand. And I get my fix. A heady cocktail of chemicals flows through my veins on a regular basis. A.L.E.

Adrenaline. Lactic acid. Endorphines.

Spring in the Highlands. The sun shines, the birds sing, the snow melts, and the rock-jocks get their fix. After a winter of sport climbing and bouldering, the trad season has finally arrived, and with it a whole heap of excitement and expectation. What to do? Where to go? Ambitions? Projects? We'll see. While it's still 'early season' (a classic climbers excuse for not trying hard), I want to get lots of mileage so I can start to flex my muscles and hone my head for bigger, scarier things in the summer (big sea cliffs on Pabbay and Mingulay in June, and hopefully some big granite slabs in the hills when the snow starts to melt).

With all this in mind I'm pleased with the way things have gone so far. Dave's Dilemma at Logie Head seems to have a reputation as a hard E1, so it was a good first extreme of the year, but it was truly trumped by Still Waters at Ardmair (E1 5c and then some). Then Tat's brilliant Someone Else's Dream at Loch Tollaidh was the seasons first E2, and hopefully the first of many. If you're looking for a soft E1 do Kermit Direct on Fraggle Rock at Loch Tollaidh, it's a gift. After-work cragging started this week with my first visit to Tynrich Slabs, near the Ruthven Boulder. It's a bit of a backwater and fairly limited, but the Hard Severe Scorpion and E2 Blewitt were more than worth the drive. And then last night it was the first Huntly's Cave raid of the season and I managed Lime-Ade, the E2 that starts up Lime Street before escaping up the arete, though I think 'escaping' might be a bit strong.

El Chorro next week. I know where I'll get my next A.L.E. fix...

The News

Welcome to the news. These are the headlines in the world of Softrock.

Striking While the Iron is Hot: Early season trad kicks off in the Highlands. Creag Dubh, Logie Head and Ardmair succumb, a bit.

Creag Dubh's Great Wall
(Photo: Steve Crawford)

Steve on Cullenary Delight at Logie. (Photo: Steve Crawford)

Bird Bothering Continues: A new contract for yours truly sees me up at dawn once again in search of sex-hungry grouse.

Road To Domestos: Our intrepid correspondent gets a thorough going-over by this bizarrely named boulder problem at Scatwell.

Richie's small flapper. He's so strong he snaps rocks with his fingers, but they get their own back.

(Photo: Steve Crawford)

The Home Front: A new house in Aviemore for myself and Jones. How will she cope with my smelly climbing shoes?

(Photo: Steve Crawford)

Stac Pollaidh Conquered: A quick run up the castellated Coigach peak is the perfect tonic for bloodied post-Ardmair-climb limbs.

(Photo: Sarah Jones)

Ticking Over

After teetering up the slab it's time to get my pump on on Flux Control (F6c) at Moy Rock

Photo: Duncan Swarbrick

Despite a fairly damp weekend and not venturing far from home I managed to keep the winter/spring rock momentum up.

Since moving to Aviemore in November '08 I've had sporadic attempts on The Big Lebowski, a super-classic boulder problem on the mighty Ruthven boulder. It's a pretty sustained outing and I've never had the juice in the tank to stick with it all the way. However, it seems that this winter of concentrating on the rock is starting to pay dividends as I eventually finished it off on Friday evening.

Saturday saw my first visit to the mystical birchwood of Brin Rock, but heavy showers and a sore shoulder conspired to ruin the morning. Only by slithering up a rather soggy Spank the Ramp was the trip salvaged. It seems like a pretty nice wee venue so expect to see a few more mentions on these hallowed pages.


And then it was Sunday. I joined Brian 'The Bri' Fishpool and Duncan Swarbrick on a rare trip away from Extreme Dream to the sport routes at Moy Rock. As I've only just discovered this place it was really good to get another session up there, to tick a couple more routes and to get a good pump on. I'm off to El Chorro in just less than a month and am keen to get lots done before and during the trip, in the hope that when the inevitable (?) Spring high pressure hits the Highlands I'll be fit and ready for trad warfare.

The Headmaster's Lesson

Bouldering on The Ship in Torridon last weekend. Here's me dancing with my shadow while trying the first move of The Mission for the 400th time. Photo: Richie Betts

Murdo doing battle with Malcolm's Arete

Back in the mists of time my old headmaster, Mr Kirkup, would often end his rousing motivational assemblies with the mantra “remember, it’s cool to be keen”. You had to respect his hopeful attempts to get us to knuckle down and work hard, but the truth remained that being a geek wasn’t going to get the cool kids to like you. No matter how many times you solved for x in Maths or Sylvia Plath poems you dissected in English or one-drop end-point titrations you achieved in Chemistry, if you didn’t wear the right clothes or have the right hair style or listen to the right music the immovable tide of peer pressure would label you uncool. No questions asked.

Nowadays things are a bit different and Mr Kirkup has been proven right. It really is cool to be keen. In the world I inhabit, keenness means you’ll train more, run faster, pull harder. You’ll be willing to get out of bed at 2 in the morning to be first on the route or to bag a second route that day. You’ll want to raise your game and try to overcome harder, longer, bigger hurdles. You’ll be willing to gamble.

With the headmaster’s advice echoing round my head Richie and I drove from the sunshine of Inverness into the dark maelstrom of the West yesterday morning. The further we went, the darker the sky became and inevitably the windscreen wipers morphed from an intermittent twitch into a hypnotic blur. The drive west with a bad forecast is a true test of the keen and the faithful, and many times our dedication was tried. Passing through Garve, we prayed for a wormhole to open and allow access to a sun drenched coast, but no, the mist swirled and the rain poured. Turning left at Braemore Junction, surely we had shown enough tenacity to be granted some blue sky, but no, more rain. Then finally, on reaching Gruinard Bay the Guardians of the North West took pity and made the rain stop long enough to walk to the crag in the dry. And what did we find?

Only that our respective projects were almost the only dry lines at the crag; our dedication had paid off. In obeisance we set to work, me on Warm Up, Richie on Black Sox; traversing to warm cold fingers then dogging up to put the clips in. Then, the moment of truth, the moment when all the thinking and preparing and training gets put aside and you have to show yourself for what you really are. Do you really have what it takes to climb this? Are you just kidding yourself? Now we’ll all see.

Richie on Black Sox (F7c+) a few weeks prior to his recent success. Photo: Ian Taylor

A previous attempt on Warm Up (F7b). Photo: Ian Taylor

And yes, we both came home successful. Thanks Mr Kirkup.

Richie is a happy bunny.

Dispatches

Thin balancy Birdman at Cummingston

It's 7.41 in the morning as I write this, and I've just got back into bed. Yes, you read that correctly. A criminally early start to go climbing in Torridon backfired with pouring rain and warm temps in the car park, so we turned tail and bailed out. What else is there to do than slip back under the covers? What will my re-shaped weekend bring?

Will it be like last week?

It's ironic that in the midst of the longest, coldest, iciest winter for years I'm more motivated for rock climbing than winter climbing, but I know when I'm onto a good thing. Night time temperatures dipped to -18.5 early last week, followed by two foot of fresh powder dumping on Aviemore. All it means is more avalanches for the poodles to set off and more days off from capercaillie surveying. Will it never cease?

Saturday morning dawned, I filled my flask, donned my thermals and down jacket and went off in search of sunny rock with Al and Richie. Cummingston, a.k.a. Cummy, a.k.a. Cummingdale, depending on which officionado you're talking to, was the venue, and with a brisk north-easterly from Norway whipping onshore, temps were perfect for sandstone sloper action. I've bouldered here on my own a few times but have always struggled to work out where the problems start and end, but with Richie 'the knowledge' Betts on hand the dispatching knew no bounds (almost).

Bringing out the cranking shirt on Little Bhudda

Approximately 24 hours after Saturday morning it was Sunday morning, and once more I was charging up the A9, this time for a day of congomerate pebble pulling. First up we trudged through the snow to the amazing sport routes at Moy Rock. This crag has so much to reccomend it: only 15 minutes drive from Inverness, south facing, long Euro-style pitches, and a good spread of grades. The more I climb up here the more I discover the brilliant diversity of the climbing and having only recently discovered Am Fasgadh and Moy I feel like I've had my eyes opened to the year-round rock route potential. I've got no excuses for being unfit anymore.

In the afternoon we explored the Firth-side Kessock Boulders, contrasting the morning's steady stamina routes with steep power problems. Who says you can't rock climb in Scotland in winter?

Kessock bridge boulders