Sou’wester slabs, Cir Mhor, Glen Rosa, 27th April 2008

I have only been to Arran once before but had been captured under its spell. This was a few years ago yet biking between Brodick and Glen Rosa felt so familiar. This time I was staying in Lamlash in a bunk house with a large group of mostly German’s. Most of them had walking plans so viewed the four climbers, myself, Frank, Michi and Kasia, with interest. When we arrived on Friday night we were greeted by Arran’s Elvis in the local where we more than quadrupled the attendance to his pub gig. All a bit random but crooning Elvis felt adored.

The next day we headed to Glen Rosa on our bikes. This included the ascent of quite a large hill just out of Lamlash and with climbing gear, would have been hard work. Also, it was pretty overcast so we’d opted for a scrambling day instead. Still, I made the mental note that on future Arran trips, staying in either Brodick or Glen Rosa was definitely the way to go. By lunch time the clouds had cleared to be replaced by sunshine, our optimism was to be rewarded as the rock dried. So Sunday was the day for our climb and proved to be a bit of an epic. Firstly, we’d left our bikes in Brodick with the intention of getting the first bus there but that wasn’t until 10.30am, it was a bit of a late start. The bike ride to Glen Rosa is an easy going one, we then stashed our bikes and set of up the valley, the aroma of suntan lotion in our wake. At this point I received a text from Jonni, it seemed he wasn’t so impressed at covering my Alien shift anymore.

So the deal was we had to get up the valley, do the climb, and make it back to Brodick in time for the last ferry at 7.20pm. The plan was to beast it. And that we did. It took us just over an hour to reach the base of the climb towards the top of the basin. We had time for a quick lunch then we were on our way, leaving the bags at the bottom. There was only one other climbing pair when we arrived and they were no where in sight. Save a curious stag, we had the place to ourselves. To save a bit of time, I decided to skip the first part of Sou’wester slabs and instead started up South Sou’wester Slabs (VS), a bit trickier but very doable. The rock type here is a coarse-grained granite, not particularly suited to nut placements. I learned this quickly with the loss of a chunk of my thumb as my first nut ripped. So the first pitch was tainted by blood running from my hand. In the end with a solid hex placement, I set an early first belay to bring up my second to provide me with tissues and finger tape. By now, two other climbing pairs had arrived but seeing the traffic, opted for different routes. Bleeding stemmed, I was underway again, continuing up the ramp and soon finding the first belay. ‘It’s up to the right now’ Michi shouted up. ‘Are you sure?’ I replied, gazing at the intimidating flake with interest, it seemed a bit steep for a vdiff. I made my way up the flake, using cams for pro (I was very glad I’d borrowed extra for this trip) and moving quickly.

For a vdiff it did feel quite stiff, more so than Ardverikie Wall. I think this is due to the lack of foot steps, lots of smearing is required on rock with very good friction, it just takes a bit of getting used to. And of course there’s the exposure to consider. At the top of the flake I stepped over the lip and with the roof in sight and considerable drag, began to look for a belay. After a wee wander I had the ultimate reward, a thread. With a lack of cams left, this was particularly sweet. As were the stunning views. I backed up my belay with a no.3 wc cam and Michi made his way up, Frank and Kasia hot on his heels. From here it was a short pitch to beneath the roof where there was plenty of cam placements in cracks for the belay, as well as a rusty old peg.

I then moved round the corner with the instruction ‘down a bit then up a chimney’. At this stage I hesitated. Just round the corner there were two possible chimney routes but both looked harder than vdiff. Further down and round under the roof I peeked round the corner but the gully here didn’t look inviting. I went back to investigate the chimney options more closely. One was beyond me and my heart missed a beat as I slipped. The other was doable, feeling about a vs. We were now on South Ridge Direct. I placed cams and swung up on big holds. I arrived on a small platform beneath an intimidating looking corner and set belay. Michi soon in place, I was apprehensive about the next few moves. I edged my way up and placed a bomber moack. With this, my confidence soared, and clipping the in situ nut, I moved easily out the top of the corner, smiling, the moves had been good. From here it was easy ground to set the next belay by a boulder. Two scrambling pitches later we were at the top. We coiled the ropes quickly, hoping the other two wouldn’t be long, they had been just behind us.

By now it was after 5pm and we still had a way to go to get back to the ferry on time. We made the decision to make a run for it. We headed left and down a gully. It was quite an exciting scrambling desent. At the bottom we grabbed our bags and set off down the path through the basin. The pace down was pretty quick, we knew we were cutting it very fine. All the while I wondered whether rushing down was the right option, in the current conditions the basin was gorgeous and an extra day in Arran was certainly luring. Back at the bike stash, we jumped on and with some energetic peddling, set off, very glad it was downhill most of the way. We pulled into the ferry terminal office pretty much at 7.20 on the dot. ‘It’s not about to leave is it?’ I asked, somewhat frantic. I could have jumped over the counter and kissed the guy when he calmly replied that it wouldn’t be going anywhere till he said it could. Evidently he was in charge. We picked up the rest of our gear which we’d left in storage that morning (£1 per item) and pushed our bikes on board, the ferry doors closing behind us. Upstairs we walked into the lounge to be greeted by a cheer from the German crowd, we collapsed gratefully onto chairs. The curious glances from other passengers continued as we then sorted through our gear but this didn’t take from the therapeutic nature of this. So ended our trip to Arran, a place I am very keen to return too. Well done to Kasia for having faith in us getting back on time and thus winning the bet and a beer. And many thanks to her for letting me use some of her stunning photos.

Hammer, HVS, Etive (Trilleachan) slabs, Sunday 18th May

It was Ruth Campbell (of gear giving fame) who first insisted I should head to the slabs. This was 3 years ago and at the time even the thought gave me cold sweats. So even in feeling eager to at last check them out, I feel that I’ve come a long way. Partly it is the relative ease of accessibility which allows for the justifiable popularity of this crag, the other major component being the collection of immensely high quality routes, with a number of 4 starred routes. The rock type is Starav granite, set at an angle of 40º on the slabs. With a lack of cracks, it has a reputation for run outs and boldness. The level of friction has been described as ‘just sufficient to maintain position’. We were about to put this to the test.

We were in luck with the weather, being treated in our drive up the valley by stunning sunny views. The 30 minute trek across boggy ground was straightforward with our destination ahead of us, glinting in the sunlight. I was mocked for wearing gaiters but was glad of having them both on the muddy ground and in protecting me from the ticks. Our route of the day was chosen by Barney, it was almost The Pause, a supposedly soft touch E1 (I simply nodded at this suggestion, dry-mouthed) but another climbing pair were just about to start this so instead we opted for Hammer. Finding the base of the climb was the first challenge of the day. No actually, the second, the first challenge was getting up a 6am. In the end we added a pitch 0 to get to the beginning, I just wasn’t keen on scrambling what seemed a relatively tough section. We then agreed on pitches, myself with the odd numbers. Then I was underway, a wee traverse to the left and then up to the corner. The first anchor was on a tree and once set, I turned to admire the view down to the loch, it was simply breathtaking.

Barney led the next pitch with ease and set anchor at the base of the scoop, something he felt I should lead. On first inspection I noted the lack of gear, then the lack of handholds, then the lack of footholds. I wasn’t convinced. But with his encouragement, moved forwards, the crack in the corner my aiming point. My language soon became colourful as I edged along precariously, gripping the few small edges with my fingers and searching keenly for footholds. I then noticed miniscule nodules which were a lighter shade than the rest of the section. Suddenly the cursing stopped and with a new feeling of confidence, I tentatively stepped onto these, aware that the grip they gave me was sufficient. By now I was chuckling to myself, with an intense feeling of exhilaration. I was doing what a few moments earlier had seemed impossible with relative ease, all the while aware that my only piece of gear was a few metres back at the anchor Barney had set. But this only added to the magic of the pitch, one which Barney described as being the best in Scotland at this grade. Though limited in my experience, at this point I have to agree. On reaching the corner I turned back and grinned, then set about placing some pro in the crack. I was now aware that having smaller fingers was an advantage on this climb, as I gripped the narrow crack and moved up. This section was definitely the pumpiest bit so far but with footholds and handholds this wasn’t too much of a problem. I arrived at the first step and almost fell into it. I then had a lovely move onto the next belay stance, and went about setting anchor. Barney soon joined me, his apprehension for the next pitch evident.

To begin with the pitch continues to follow the narrow crack up the corner. Then, a good few metres up, there is a traverse section to the right, this being the crux section. At this point Barney’s nerves were evident and it took him a few goes before he got the moves, his relief vocalised as he reached actual handholds on the other side. Then he once again moved swiftly up a flake and then over a roof before setting the next belay. So it was my turn. I cleaned up the belay and set off up the corner, finding this section pumpier than before maybe due to feeling apprehensive.

I arrived at the traverse to appreciate why Barney had hesitated. The footholds were slim, slanted and a bit shiny, the handholds limited tiny crimps, the distance to the decent handholds considerable. Whereas on the scoop section I had felt confidence in the footholds, here this was not the case. Nonetheless, I began to move across using baby steps and trying to remember to breath. With each foot step, I held my breath and hesitated, Barney shouted down encouragement. Then there was another lighter-shade tiny nodule, I stepped onto this gladly. A foot swap was required, I gulped and went for it, very thankful that my foot stuck and that I could now reach the middle section. I felt respect for Barney leading these moves, for an HVS they seemed very stiff, much more E1/E2. I moved up and past Barney, ready to lead the final pitch. This was a lot more straightforward but still with plenty of interest. I moved up and then right underneath a roof. I placed gear where I could in the crack I was gripping with my fingers, but felt my best option was to move quickly. The further along I moved the slimmer the crack and footholds seemed to get and the less gear I could place. I did get a few comments about not protecting my second sufficiently, especially as Barney couldn’t always grip the tiny crack. Zero cams would have been good but the only one we had was on Barney’s harness.

I reached the final anchor and set up, Barney soon joining me. We chose to stay on the ropes until the path improved just past the top off of The Pause where the other climbing pair were just emerging. Then we began a challenging scramble down. We reached the coffin stone to find numerous other climbing pairs comparing stories and fanning off midges. And so we joined in, immediately feeling part of the group despite never having met any of these climbers before. I guess we were united by the common purpose of the day, whether it was a VS or an E2. I was momentarily embarrassed at this point receive a text message, having left my phone on for the camera and not expecting reception. I made a mental note to put it on silent in the future.

Then, on deciding to call it a day we walked back down. I managed to find what I suspect was the muddiest path back and made full use of my gaitors as I sank into the mud. Barney skipped back with barely a speck of mud on his boots let alone his trousers. I always have held magnetic qualitities for mud. Being in the west, the journey back of course included a stop off in Tyndrum at Real foods where they do a great gluten-free fish and chip supper, a satisfying end to an extremely satisfying day. Oh yeah, and I was offered a new job, all good.