Smiler Cuthbertson - Mountain Guide

The rope shows it all!

Dave came up all the way from Whitchurch, eager to do something more than just hike in the mountains, and that was usually in summer.

We had a couple of days booked together at the end of January, and he had ambitous plans for the Aonach Eagach Traverse (a grade 3 in winter conditions). I thought, we definitely had a winter scene, and the plans were quite feasible, yet we would be better doing something first on rocky, snowy ground to get Dave used to crampons on rock. Staying at the SMC hut at Lagangabh, I chose the classic Curved Ridge (also a winter grade 3) on the Buachailletive Mor. The only concern I had was with the bad avalanche last week and there still was a high Risk forecast of Grade 3 (considerable). However, I knew the safe escape route from the mountain, rather than the descent down Corrie na Tuilach if need be?

Dave’s good fitness showed early on, as we took an early start and groped our way up the track from the hut. In no time we were at the gearing-up spot and, roped together, we moved across and up the snowy slopes until some tricky steepenings led us on to the ridge proper. Plenty of tracks in the soft snow, so the going was a little easier than expected.

Have I done all that?

Once on the proper climbing, the joy of Curved Ridge becomes apparent, neat little moves here and there, nowhere too hard, and occasionally the trail led off right into the gully, missing out the well-known and more difficult moves on the ridge. We could keep motoring.

Dave was really enjoying being here and we soon came out onto the shoulder at the end of the ridge proper. Pre-warned by Blogs on the internet that the slope coming down from Tower Gap could be potentially avalanche-prone, I kept way right and did some interest scrambling on the rocky right edge, up to Tower Gap. A quick look over and down into Crowberry Gully, then off slanting left on easy but steeper ground which led us to the summit slopes. Reasonably good snow here and soon we were having a break on the summit of Stob Dearg. Two and a half hours from the foot of the ridge! Dave couldn’t believe what he’d done, and was excited for more of the same.

We headed for a distant Munro at the far end of the range, but soon decided time might be a problem, the soft and sometimes knee-deep snow causing a slow and tiring pace. Thinking more of tomorrow than anything, we turned back and descended the ridge from Point 902m, and were soon ploughing down deep but safe snow and turning back for the bottom of Corrie na Tuliach. It wasn’t the first descent over the past day or two, so numerous tracks led us out to the corrie and back to the hut.

After a shower, some tea, and finishing off our day-food snacks, we took both cars down to Glencoe and looked for a safe parking spot for the pick-up after the end of the Aonach Eagach Traverse the following  afternoon. To be sure, I stopped a well-bearded forestry worker and asked him where would be best.This was ‘Jimmy the Bush’, a well-known and popular chap in the ‘Coe. Jimmy showed us where to park, at a turn-around spot on the track to the Forestry commission works. This was ideal, as we intended to avoid the poor and tricky descent down the north side of the Clachaig Gully and continue towards the col under the Pap of Glencoe, where the descent is easy.  Dumping the car, we drove in Dave’s wagon back to the Clachaig, and over a nice pint, chatted to Mike the barman, and heard about his misfortune the day before. Abseiling from a climb rather than cross some dodgy windslab slopes, ropes had gotten stuck, gear abandoned, and a very dark finish ensued. He’d go back for his rope and gear another day.

For the second day in a row, the alarm struck six am and we had to move. Somewhat reluctantly, we threw the gear on and after a quick breakfast, we were driving down to the parking spot under Am Bodach. Here I dropped a clanger. Instead of pocketing my car keys, I blindly put them in the pocket of a jacket coat I was leaving behind for the day. I was to pay for this error later on!

Dave felt better today after a slight stomach problem yesterday, and we soon gained a decision point. Steeply up the buttress to the summit, or further up the valley track and more gradually up to Am Bodach. I chose the latter, and broke trail for another hour, emerging on a wind-swpt summit at around quarter past nine.

It was windy, I had to admit. ‘Gusting 60mph’ was the weather forecast, ‘problems in walking and certainly in traversing knife-edged ridges’. Dave was unsure. I reassured him, it was windy, but like a summer’s day in the Cairngorms. I was to eat my words a little, later on, but it was all controllable. Tracks in the ridge made the route-finding easy. Visibility was excellent, just that dratted wind. We short-roped again along the easy parts, and I watched more closely as Dave descended and re-ascended the tricky rock moves which make this ridge so special. This was alpine ridge climbing at its best and great fun in crampons (although Dave was to tell me later it was his limit of comfort with the buffeting wind). We gained a brand new tape at one stage, though for us, fortunately the standard of winter climbing was well within us, so no abseiling was ever necessary.

Munroes came and went, we lost track of time until, suddenly, it was all easy. Looking back, Dave couldn’t believe his eyes. He exclaimed ‘have I done that’?

All that was left was a long hike out and down to the car, where a frantic search for the missing keys proved fruitless.

I could have lost the key to the car, and to the hut! I felt bad! Dave was more confident we’d find the keys in his car. So we had a long walk back to the Clachaig where they seem to have missed out on offering too much help for stranded visitors. We decided to hitch to Dave’s car and after mire walking, some contractors repairing the bridge at the Meeting of the Three Waters proved our saviour. A five minute drive up the ‘coe and we were back at the car.

Our saviour had not even completed his turn-around in the van before we jumped for joy at the finding of the keys. A quick thumbs-up and he was gone! Relief. The rest, as they say, was conversation.

All in all, a fine two days. Dave wants Tower Ridge or An Teallach in the future. I’m happy, but first, it’s Rjukan ice climbing next week for me.

What a life, eh?

The wind howled across the valley, and when the cars started turning around, I looked at my client, Mike, and shrugged my shoulders.

“They’ve shut the road again”. I said this with a hint of sadness, more than a touch of anger, and finally the shrug said it all. “Let’s see what tomorrow’s like?”

The Cairngorms are quite often like this, no skiing possible, so I suppose there is no incentive to keep the road open from drifting snow? However, they probably had a point today. Virtually sheet ice everywhere that sloped or was flat, flying rocks slamming backwards and forwards everywhere.

Storm damage at the car park was very real.

“Let’s try Annoch Mor?” The phone conversation that night meant an earlier start for me, but less of a drive for Mike. I didn’t mind as he had driven a fair way the day before, and then after a doss in his car.

More bad news. It was probably indicative of the icy weather that we could only gain access by the Gondola, they weren’t running the 4-man chair. That meant a long hike up past that top station, on again and up the ski run to the top of the tow, and then a short hike to the cornice. Several other teams were obviously considering going that way, but for a change, I decided to go in via the Lemming ridge. We always used to go that way before the ski complex was built and there were a couple of crampon marks here and there. Our route led diagonally round to, rather than directly up, the peak, so it was marginally easier. As we rounded the bottom of the lemming ridge, the mist clagged in and visibility shrank to zero. After traversing across the north side for what seemed like ages, I thought ‘blow this, I’m hitting the ridge again, so I know where we are’.  Sure enough, a quick hike upwards brought us out into visibility and on the crest of the ridge. All we needed now was to follow the fairly easy-angled ridge up to the summit and across to East Gully. We left the ski sticks wedged  against the ski shed and had some coffee.

One of the other teams were just visible down below the cornice, and their abseil rope soon snaked away from us as we kitted up for our descent. I belayed around the ice mushroom and lowered Mike over the edge. He got down about 20 meters, shoved his axe in and called me down. It wasn’t difficult and I quickly joined him. The situation had now vastly improved, very little wind this side, and we were soon right down and traversing across steep snow to our target - Tunnel Vision: Grade 3.

The big bay start was obvious and I was soon away up the snow to where it was steeper. Moving with me on the rope, Mike followed and when I reached a bulge I stopped and set up a belay.

First a straightforward step-kicking pitch, past some curious wire garbage, then steeper ground with a screw or two as protection. Coming up was the big pitch, 30 or 40 metres of steep and narrow gully climbing, slanting rightwards towards the easy slopes out of Morwind. This was what we came for, steep ice with, thankfully today, bombproof placements. I used a few pieces of rock gear (even a Friend 3) before the steep ice then it was wind-in screws all the way until the easier angled slope and two more good screws for the belay. The neve boded good for the usually horrific cornice job. Looking up while Mike had his first experience for several years of sustained ice work, I could see there were several options to escape at the top. Mind you, I thought, it always looks easy until you get there!

With Mike jubilant at his success, with only one footless moment where he was hanging on his tools, I moved off and soon had a good screw in. Running it out now, I became conscious of the angle more and more, and with 8 metres to go, finally gave in and placed the Deadman runner. Now relaxed, I shuffled up the last few metres and proceeded to hack out the slot that would take me through to the summit. Five minutes of slashing and it was done. I eased into my slot, hooked my tools over the top and….damm!

It was all deep soft snow there as well. I stepped back down for a breather and, when ready, and I knew what to do, I eased myself half-over the cornice on two tools, whipped one out and quickly planted it, shaft-down into the flat surface. Bombproof! The usual quick bellyflop and the welcoming belay post.

Mike made short work of the pitch and as we chatted to the other teams by the shed, I thought, not a bad day?

Not enough time for another route, so we cramponed down virtually all the way to the gondola station and our nice return journey down to the bottom station.

More of that - yes please!

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Tunnel Vision

Grade 3, 120 metres

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 Smiler & Mike - 8^th January 2009