Whinging Part 3

Sarah's hen weekend meant I had a full two-day pass with no wedding admin.  I'd lined up Robin Thomas for Saturday and since we'd not climbed together before I thought it would be a bit selfish to ask him to slog up to Brin to belay me on my project.  So, the west coast and Diabaig gneiss it was, or at least until the wind died and the midges forced an early retreat. Murdo was lined up for Sunday and I didn't feel quite so bad about making him go to Brin. Even then, I was still praying for an iffy forecast that would rule-out the trad climbing F.O.M.O.  In the end it worked out well because Murdo is working The Force at Zed Buttress, just down the hill. We agreed that I'd have the morning redpoint shift while Murdo gently warmed up and then we'd head down for his turn in the shade.

It would be a lie to say conditions were optimal that day: hot august sun beating onto a south-facing crag, but a strong easterly took the edge off and made it worthwhile.  Building on gains from the previous sessions I made another babystep forward: discovering a knee twist that makes the penultimate move in the crux sequence more manageable, and on my best go I pinged off going for the last hard move before the rest.  Enough progress to keep the dream alive.

More importantly, Murdo made his best links yet on The Force.  I hear the send-train a' comin down the line.

Diary scanning after that showed an alarming lack of time for potential Brin trips before the wedding bells ring out but luckily for me Mhairi was happy to squeeze in an evening session on Thursday.  It won't be long before there's not enough daylight left for after-work sessions and I could feel the pressure mounting.  I decided to be canny after a full redpointing session on Sunday.  Monday: rest. Tuesday: session in the shed trying a sustained 10-move problem trying to replicate the length of the crux sequence. Wednesday: 40 minute run but no climbing.

Thursday came along and I was concerned about the lack of time I'd have at the crag to get the clips in, warm up and still have time for a couple of redpoint goes.  Seeking inspiration from Murdo I remembered him talking recently having really good sessions in the afternoon after light fingerboarding in the morning. Something about recruitment?  I still don't understand physiology.  I guessed it could either work well or ruin me, so in desperation I raced to the wall in my 45 minute lunchbreak and dangled from the campus board for a bit before racing into town to pick up the waistcoats a friend has made us for the wedding and then back to the office for a few hours.

Driving to the crag I implored Mhairi to ignore the drizzle tickling the windscreen: "it'll be bone dry in this wind".  I tried to sound confident.  Luckily I was right. Putting the clips in and resting bolt-to-bolt  I could tell the rock felt much better than Sunday and things were looking pretty good, although if anything there was a danger of it being too cold. Also, in the back of my mind I was very aware that I'd not actually done the full link from the rest after the crux to the top. Between the 5th and 6th bolts there's a stiff pull that I could imagine coming unstuck on if I didn't get much back from the rest.  Still, nothing ventured...

It all came together on the second redpoint that evening.  After clipping the second bolt I downclimbed into the niche and sat looking out over Strathnairn and the relentless motion of the Farr Windfarm turbines sailing round on the wind. I closed my eyes and ran through the 11 move crux in my head.  Even though I was climbing in my mind, by the time I hit the flake jug at the 4th bolt I was pumping with adrenaline and had to take another minute to get my heart rate back down.  As is always the way, when the time came to move it all flowed and before I could think I was bowling over into the jug and milking the rest for as long as possible. When you rest, you rest.  When you climb, you climb. Eventually, when I got some blood back into my fingers, I flicked the switch between the two states and swarmed through the top section as I'd hoped, yelping into the wind as I clipped the chain. Another journey over.

Phew. Now I can get married.

Whinging Part 2

I know you're dieing to ask: How am I getting on with my wee project of redpointing Whinging Consultants before my wedding on September 12th? Well, it's still a project.  That's the short answer.  The long answer is that it's starting to come together.

I've now had three sessions on the route.  The first was with Tess, on one of our seemingly regular 'it's wet in the West, Brin is the last resort' days.  I'd not been on the route before and was very glad of use of her clip-stick to dog the draws in, otherwise I reckon I'd still be projecting the third clip.  That day I had a couple of tries on top-rope, sussing where it all goes, quite how powerful the crux is, and how easy it'll be to pump-out on the top wall if you can't get much back from the rest.

The second session was an evening after work with Mhairi, and it's fair to say that work that day wasn't hugely productive as I started piecing together the route in my head. I'd not done an evening at Brin before, and what with the Vietnam-style bracken slog it's hardly roadside convenience, but Mhairi had an appointment with One and Only, so was keen.  My aim that session was to work a sequence for the crux and integrate clipping into it.  I guess in that respect it was a success.  It's tedious reading other people's waffle about sequences and holds, but in summary the crux section of this route boils down to working round a roof and having to use a righthand gaston, matching it and turning it into a layback to pull up into a distant undercut.  The difficulty comes from the complete lack of footholds that you really want on the left which would allow you to lean out rightwards from the layback, so instead you're all bunched up using feet straight beneath you. I told you it was tedious. Above the crux there's a half decent rest (only half decent, mind you), followed by easier but brilliant climbing. More importantly, Mhairi redpointed One and Only.

Andy Wilby showing how its's done, and seeminky using a totally different sequence to me.

 (Photo: Dave Douglas)

On my third and most recent session I was joined for another post-work jungle-bash up the hill by Andy Moles, a man that I'd last seen throwing shapes in a sweaty tent at Tiree Music Festival. The aim this time was to start redpointing and making links, which I guess could be described as successful too.  There was an initial false start when I found the hardest move impossible despite doing it in previous sessions - having matched the gaston and worked the feet up to turn it into a layback (hooray for dismal climbing chat!) I just couldn't stand up into the undercut. However, Moles was on hand to talk about flagging feet and counter-balancing and I think I've now got the crucial knowledge.  On my third go (first to get the clips in, second to warm up) I linked from the floor into matching the gaston flake, which seemed a million miles away when I think back to my first session nine days earlier.  Just two more moves and then it's a rest. More importantly, Andy onsighted One and Only.

Whinging consultant Dave Douglas entering the crux (photo: Ian Taylor)

Time was tight this weekend (wedding admin, aka 'Wadmin') but I was all set up for a Saturday morning session but rain spoiled play. I'm lined up with Dr Clarkson, one of the route's namesakes, for tomorrow night but there's rain in the forecast again.  I'll keep you posted...

Whinging

I've heard it said that the temperature in Inverness on midsummer's day this year was the same as on midwinter's day last year. I've struggled to find the data that backs this up, but given the general cold and wet summer we've been 'enjoying' I can well believe it.

Trying to turn a negative into a positive, I've pretty much given up on thinking of going trad climbing this year - a measly 13 routes climbed so far - and I've mainly been spending my minimal climbing time picking the low hanging fruit by filling in the gaps at local sport crags.  At Brin this meant the 7a+ brace of Despicable Me and Vagicil Overdose.  The memory of the lonely runout slab at the top of the latter in a howling gale will last long in the memory.  At Moy Ian T's new Kite Mark (6c) is a worthy Flat Wall addition, and a week or so later I voyaged into the dusty realm of the less-travelled Forbidden Forest at 7a/+. All good fun, but over rather fast.

So what now? Time is getting tight before our wedding in September, and after that I expect my mind will start wondering to Torridon and boulders, so I'm fairly limited in my options. So, I've decided to use this pressure as an opportunity to focus on a project. I feel like I've been coasting along over the summer, going through the motions but not really having an aim, so now it's time to change gears. After scouring the local crags I've settled on a gnarly little 7b+ called Whinging Consultants at Brin - brilliantly named after the oft-voiced opinions of Dr Pete Clarkson and Mr Dave Douglas, two NHS employees and active local climbers. I've had two sessions on it so far and it's slowly moving along the spectrum that starts at impossible and hopefully ends in clipping the chains. Time will tell. It's got a really sustained and powerful crux round the 3rd and 4th bolts, followed by a half-decent rest and then easier but pumpy climbing to the top.  If I can make it to the 4th bolt I'm hopeful I'd be able to keep it together for the top, but getting through that crux is bloody desperate.

Watch this space.

Ps. If anyone in the Inverness area is keen for Brin evening sessions let me know, I'll repay belays with witty banter, lectures on capercaillie conservation and rehearsals of wedding speeches.  What's not to like?

Two days of Summer

Circumstances finally came together  to merit exploring a local riverside micro-crag above a deep pool last night (i.e. two days with temperatures above 15 degrees).  If you've ever driven into Strathconon from Contin you'll have driven past it, just right of the wee bridge after the turn off to Glenmarksie. I forgot to pack a belay device and discovered that down-jumarring is possible but a pain in the arse.

By the time I'd scoped a line and given it a scrub the black clouds had gathered and it was pouring with rain, but the steepness and trees at the top kept it dry, and it was pretty easy, maybe Font 5/Brit 5b?  It was so much fun I ran round and set up the camera to record a second lap.  If there's more hot weather I'll scrub some more lines as there's more to do.

Conon Wall from Gareth Marshall on Vimeo.

Scraps

I think I write this exact same blog post this time every year.  Summer stagnation.  To be fair, I've probably picked a good time to have a slightly tweaked A2 pulley and to be planning a wedding, as the weather really has been unhelpful.  It's not been crap in a dramatic, torrential downpour kind of way, but more in an insidious, cold, blustery showery kind of way.  I mean, you probably could have got out quite a bit if you had endless free time to sit out the showers, but for me it's just been easier not to bother. C'est la vie.  You can hardly live up here and complain when it rains.

Murdo sitting out another shower between gardening and hot aches at Duntelchaig

Don't get me wrong, I've done odds and sods: time spent cleaning forgotten local routes and exploring for hidden rock. I'm yet to find the new Ship Boulder lurking in the woods, but I've not given up yet.  I've even managed a bit of climbing too (in addition to laps of open-handed circuits on the board).  The trad highlight would probably be The Hill at Creag Dubh, a great voyage through the center of an impressive historic wall.  On the sporty front the best (and only?) route for a while would probably be Shakin Like a Leaf, a classic Cheddar Gorge 7a that I did on a balmy West Country evening while down south visiting family.  Due to a slightly tweaky finger I've been laying off the bouldering recently, but while south I visited the Forest of Dean's sandstone blocks at Huntsham and came away impressed. Local classic The Golden Bicep 6C+, with it's slopers straight out of Fontainbleau, was probably the best of the day .

As ever, the dreams of an endless sunny summer haven't materialised quite yet. My cunning plan had been to bite the bullet and learn how to jam, and I was looking forward to dropping the ego and getting mauled on routes with lowly grades.  It's something I've always shied away from and am pretty bad at, having always been drawn to the thin, delicate end of the spectrum rather than honest burly tussles. I think that my trip to Arapiles last year really showed up my lack of competence and confidence in climbing in this style and the reality of trad climbing is that you need the full repertoire. I'm hopeful that the sun will eventually shine for long enough on a weekend and I'll be able to traipse to the sandstone west and have a fight.  In the meantime, is that a something between the trees?

Remember to charge the battery!

I put together a very rough video compilation of some of this season's local (ish) boulder problems. Naturally, I ran out of battery or forgot to press record when I did some of the year's better problems, so it's a bit of a random assortment.  If anything it's perhaps a showcase of what's lurking out there if you can be bothered to put in the effort.


Highland Boulders: Winter 2014-15 from Gareth Marshall on Vimeo.

Clearing the Decks

My job as Capercaillie Project Officer for RSPB, SNH and Forestry Commission Scotland means that around now things all get a bit hectic.  There aren't too many of these elusive forest grouse left in Scotland, but for those that are still holding on, mid to late April is business time.  Capercaillie breed by their peculiar lekking bahaviour, when all the males in an area get together and have a battle to establish who's the biggest and baddest and gets to pass on his genes while females hang around the sidelines and decide on the winner. It makes for a pretty dramatic spectacle, but in a rather antisocial manner all this happens deep in the woods and within the first hour or two of daylight.  In order to get an idea of capercaillie numbers from year to year, it's part of my job to spend the next two weeks sleeping out in hides, or getting up very early to get into position before dawn and, naturally, they don't have weekends off. The data we get from the famously grueling two weeks of lek counts are the basis for much of the rest of my work, and as this is my first year in the job, I'm pretty excited. 

Still, from a climbing perspective the next two weeks are going to be a sleep-deprived caffeine-fuelled write-off. I've known this was coming for a while, so have been trying to get out as much as possible in the last month or so to make up for it. As luck would have it, there's been some pretty good weather up here lately, as the state of my fingertips bears testimony.

The routes season started with two glorious March Saturdays in a row at Goat Crag, and despite tying-on for the first time since Australia in October I came away with a nice haul of amnesia onsights and a redpoint of Too Old to be Famous, my first of the original Goat 7bs. Next weekend I joined Dr Dave for a guided tour at Zed Buttress at Brin.  This is Andy Wilby's latest sport development crag, with about 15 routes bolted between 6b and brick hard, and home to his piece de resistance and the areas hardest route; The Force, at a possible 8b. Ouch.  As per my first visit to Crag One at Brin, I was well impressed with the work Andy and co. have put into the crag - cleaning, bolting, occasionally reinforcing suspect holds, and generally making it a cool place to be.  I managed not to disgrace myself by onsighting the warm up (phew) and then flashing future area classic The Rockness Monster Returns, a morpho 6c/7a/7a+, depending who you talk to.  It all went downhill shortly afterwards of course, with a failed siege on Little Minx 7b(+?) in the hot sun.  Next time? There's plenty there in the grades I'm approaching, so I'm psyched for a return.

Andy on The Force 8a+/8b (Photo: Murdo Jamieson)

On a sunny evening after work last week I put two long-held boulder ambitions to bed: the high but not too hard Brin Done Before 6Cish, which I had walked under to get to Zed Buttress a few days before and could hear it mocking me: "call yourself an Inverness boulderer? Not without me on your ticklist".  With another hour of daylight I raced over to Ruthven and put paid to White Russian/Mike's Problem 7A+, which I first tried in 2013 but lacked the power.  It's nice to see some things changing.

The olden days on Brin Done Before (Photo: Rich Betts)

Betts doing White Russian.

Nearly up to date: this weekend I made 3 trips across the Dirrie Mor towards Ullapool. It was Reiff in the Woods on Friday afternoon for another battle with The Crack, an unsung 7A+ gem that I still can't do, then Saturday and and Sunday turning left at Braemore Junction and heading to the church of Am Fasgadh with Tess and Murdo respectively (see why I've got no skin?).  I was keen to do Warm Brown Streak, with it's crux of three long powerful moves after a strenuous clip.  I'd been on it late last year, but that was before the shed regime.  On Saturday I was close, but puntered myself by working out better beta late in the day when I was too tired to perform.  I managed to persuade Murdo he wanted to go there on Sunday and eventually got it done by the skin of my teeth on the 3rd go.  I'm not sure about the grade.  If The Warm Up is 7b then Warm Brown is 7b+, but who know's what The Warm Up is? Regardless, it's enough to keep me happy and the FOMO at bay for the next two blurry weeks. 

Right, I'd better get some sleep.