Smiler Cuthbertson - Mountain Guide

 This could be the last time,

 maybe the last time, I don’t know…  

Apologies to Mick Jagger, but Thursday on the Ben did have that feeling about it?

The sun shone through the faint clouds as David and I walked up the Alt a’Mhuilinn, everywhere above the CIC hut and in the higher gullies, looking terrific, glistening with ice and snow. Why a day we were going to have?

The hut was occupied, so a chance to show David the restoration works and to take a quick break before heading up to Indicator wall area, or even Smith’s Route.

Stories from the lads in the hut told a different picture. Two of them had been out all night on Observatory Ridge and tales of crashing ice blocks, booming throughout the night, dangerous pitches of thin ice, and snow, so soft it suggested some serious trail-breaking, all this combined to make us think again.

Right, what hasn’t got anything above it, I thought?  Glovers Chimney (III). That would be a first for David and a return for me after maybe 30 years!

The trail-breaking was true to form. We slowly made our way up to the base of the route, and were soon roping up.

There was steep ice on the first pitch there but it was very wet. Still, it looked thick enough to stay fixed to the rock and it wasn’t that steep. Imagining the ice screw runner at three meters would hold, was a joke, but the climbing was easy and soon I was over the initial section and into the gully proper.

Plenty of side wall rock runners encouraged my continuing up and I soon reached a small, prepared stance. Although there were only faint tracks in the soft snow, it was true trail-breaking but if each pitch led to a stance, the climbing would be easier and quicker.

Five or six full pitches led to the final rocky chimney. Occasionally we would dodge a small lump of ice falling from the side walls high above us, and only once did a huge block come down, rattling and smashing into the main gully, however, we were luckily above it by then.

The final back and footing up into the Tower gap was great fun, plenty of protection, lots of rock handholds and soon I was moving through the final moves of the Gap to the upper and last part of Tower Ridge. There was no snow or ice in the Gap, but above, and all the way to the top, much more usual winter conditions and great fun.

The wind had reached us now on the ridge and the temperature dropped a few degrees. We were still reasonably warm though, and avoiding the summit meant we could escape the cool breeze, as we wandered down to No. 4 gully. Here, a total change in angle was now apparent. The previous Tuesday, the exit had been steep, even feeling slightly undercut, but not today. A simple slope took us into the wider gully and we coiled the rope and swam down through the deep soft snow back to the hut.

The day had been very enjoyable and our route, a consolation after bigger dreams had been quashed.

More still to come this winter? I’m becoming increasingly doubtful now.

On our way down, Centurion looked amazing in the sunshine, where did I put my rock shoes?

Smiler

‘Can you take a Czech?’

Frank posed the question, after two glorious Easter days into my climbing with him and his work colleague, Antonin (from Prague), the efforts so far having left Frank ‘too pooped to whoop!’

The weekend forecasts had been dreadful. A planned Skye Ridge attack was postponed for another time, and my suggestions for some east coast winter climbs that I knew were still in good shape, were happily accepted.

Antonin, flying in from Prague, would amend his rucksack contents.

 “Where are you going to stay? It is Easter, after all?”

“We’ll probably camp”, said Frank.

I replied: “you’ll be fortunate if you get into the Youth Hostel, a bunkhouse or a campsite, with all the visitors on this weekend?”

Where did they stay, when finding out the true nature of Scottish tourism at Easter? The Hilton!

Frank and Antonin worked together on Wind Farm equipment all around the eastern world,  so they knew each other very well, and the younger man was along to make sure Frank’s 63rd birthday (on the Sunday) was a great time.

Saturday dawned and an early start to get a good car park spot at Cairngorm proved useful, and once in the Corrie, we felt quite alone. With superb conditions in the easier gullies, The Runnel (grade II), and the Fiachaill Couloir (also a II) gave Frank his first real climbing exertions for quite a while, and the younger man from Prague, his first ever climbing experience in the UK. The weather was glorious and Antonin would take away a long-lasting impression about Scottish winter climbing and weather.  He’ll get a shock next visit I’m sure!

However, he soon showed me why he had done many good and hard routes in the Tatras and in the Alps. He proved a steady and strong climber. We descended the Fiachaill Ridge to seal a great day out. What weather!

Sunday appeared with, astonishingly, the same weather. Blue skies, not much of a breeze, and we walked up into the corrie again, deciding that today was too nice for the snow routes, no matter how hard the texture was. So we put one tool away and clombed up and over the Goat Track. We crossed over into Loch Avon, skirting under where Cascade (VI) usually is at this time of year, usually always showing some signs of ice. Not today! Dry rock everywhere - wonderful.

We roped up at the foot of what is now one of my most favourite climbs, Afterthought Arête. A winter grade III, but a sunny rock climb today. 150 metres of superb and juggy climbing, with no more than a move or two of V. Diff, it just flowed!

I could tell Frank was having a great birthday and the young Czech was having a super time too.

Doing a couple more pitches than necessary to suit the relaxed state of the day, we ambled up this great route, exiting onto the dry, grassy slopes above. Packing our gear away and relaxing in the sunshine, I wondered whether we were dreaming. It hasn’t been as good as this for years! Walking back across to the Fiachaill of Corrie Casse and down, some fatigue was showing through and Frank cast doubts on his participation for the final day, especially as he wanted Antonin to sample the Ben before flying home.

‘Can you take a Czech? ‘ he joked next morning at Annoch Mor ski station after deciding not to come with us. With his assurance that he wouldn’t try and go soloing somewhere (I insisted he left his snow gear in the car at the dam anyway!), we made our way up the Alt a’Mhuilinn. With Frank taking a slightly slower pace behind,  Antonin and I soon reached the newly renovated CIC Hut. I’d brought my key along to check out the improvements since my last visit. Complaints of untidiness outside the hut had been voiced and although these complaints were, I felt, a little unnecessary, with the location, and the weather being worked in, I was very pleased to see most of the building materials left over from the job had been removed and a few hours of landscaping would be all that would be needed?

However, the problem I had experienced in January, and again in February, on previous visits, was still there - my CIC key just wouldn’t open the door. There is a real problem with the key (or maybe the door, I’m not sure)? I hope someone looks into this?

Frank agreed to hang around outside the hut until he got bored, so Antonin and I struck off for Tower Ridge. It looked absolutely splendid, and so it turned out. With Antonin in a fit and eager mood, we cruised the ridge, having it all to ourselves. Taking advantage of good dry rock weather, I climbed in steeper terrain than on my usual circulating direction. We past the scene of somebody’s epic, a full rope hanging from the lower tower, sure signs of someone’s emergency descent.

 I can picture the scene, it’s starting to snow, darkness is falling, headlights fading, ‘forget the bloody rope! Let’s get out of here!’ I left the gear untouched. They would be back for sure.

The climbing got better and better. Dry rock turned to hard snow and soon we were racing across the Tower Gap. The wind had picked up a little and the summit was certainly blustery and cool, although the hordes of people near the emergency shelter didn’t seem to notice, they were, however, drinking Champagne out of plastic cups! Another birthday celebration, I wondered?

The descent down No. 4 gully was far more inviting than the Red Burn slog and although there was a steep top step, the rope was unnecessary and  we were soon boot-skiing down to the rocks way above the hut. ‘Just switch off the brain and look at your feet’ I told Antonin, when he suddenly complained about never liking these descents. ‘That hut will suddenly be there’ I said. And sure enough,  we were soon once again trying to gain access to the CIC hut. Simon (Richardson) was also there, trying, but neither of us were having any luck. A young lady, Sarah, I think, (forgive me) appeared and was supposed to be staying there that night. As we walked off down the track to the dam, I looked back to see two bodies leaning heavily against the metal door, trying their best to get the key to work! We would have to leave them to it. Frank of course, had got bored waiting and had left for his car down at the dam. He told me later the back door had been left open! So he’d been able to see the wonderful improvements that have been made by Spike, Brian and others from the SMC. I’ll try again next time I’m up to get a peep inside.

The end of the Anglo/Czech tour of the Highlands. A great long weekend and unbelievable weather to match the climbing. It couldn’t be better! I’ll take a Czech any day!

Smiler - Easter 2009