10 April 2010
Orion Direct? Maybe not.
I call Richard the Yorkshire Terrier, because he’s always up for anything, he is very strong, carries the rope all the time, and never complains. so when he rang and asked what we were up for this weekend, I said “let’s have a look at Orion Direct?”.
“I’m on for that” he exclaimed excitedly.
We met up at 07.00am at the gondola station and were soon heading up the alt a’Mhullin. We paused at the new CIC Hut and I showed Richard around this great newly-extended hut.
Off again and we returned aagin to staring at our feet, as we trekked up to and into Observatory Gully. Passing underneath the Minus Gullies and on up towards Orion, I was soon feeling our intended target was perhaps a little too sketchy for me, so we turned our attentions to Zero Gully. We passed and chatted to the two guys just starting Observatory Eidge and they spoke of some guys going for Zero. We soon could see these two guys a long way up already and, after kitting up below the steep central gully and ignoring the continuous spindrift coming down, I set
The serious first ang pitch of zero
off up this ultra-famous Grade 5.
Pretty soon I realised I would have to be resolute and push on carefully, as the runners (screws) were of minimal quality and the snow only just hard enough to hold an axe. One couldn’t really afford to simply pull up on a tool without the great concern of it pulling.
So a careful system of transfering weight onto footholds became the order of the first long and quite steep first pitch. I took my time, made no rapid moves, all had to be calculated carefully, each weighting of each axe and each foot done with some trepidation.
Slowly the pitch unravelled, the odd delay as I waited for a spindrift flow to cease.The much sought-after belay arived none too soon, but at least it had pegs. Richard seemed to take as long as me, for which I was grateful for, as each glance at the pegs had me concerned about their strength, as rusty as they were.
I know Richard found it hard too, because he complained about not feeling too well. I put that down to the fact he’d had 2 hours sleep since the drive from down south.
The easier second pitch
We swapped places and the next pitch was much better. I even refused to pass a good belay afer twenty metres and Richard was again soon with me. I remembered the climb from ‘75 when I was with Wilco, he always at the sharp end, and recalled a traverse into the main gully line which had seemed to end the difficulties? Was this it, I wondered?
Moving carefully up on some rock edges until the snow resumed, I relaxed a touch thinking it would be plain sailing now. Wrong! Yes, the moves rightwards had been tricky, but the gully continued to rear up steeply with alarming regularity.
Totally committed now, I paced myself on each steep section, Richard also climbing well and admirably making no mistakes.
Suddenly. I knew we’d cracked the hardest sections. We were now gaining on the two lads from
The final slopes
Galasheilds and soon I was chatting to one whilst he belayed his leader. Richard never got the chance to talk to anyone but me, as these guys were wasting no time now the climbing standard had relented. On and on up the easier angled (but still quite serious) gully we went. I gave Richard the top pitch and soon we were striding across the narrow ridge to the top of Ben Nevis.
There were many folk on the summit in glorious sunshine and after saying a few words to the other Zero guys, we drank our tea and juice and headed for No. 4 Gully.
This idea changed within a few metres of by-passing Gardyloo Gully. The snow was so soft. I soon decided No. 4 could be arkward and my working day should have finished, so we slid effortlessly down the snow to the Red Burn, across to the Half-way Lochan path and on down to the car.
A longer descent? Maybe but my hands were in my pockets!
11th April 2010
Slim Pickings in the sunshine.
Heading for a snowless seam
Slim pickings indeed in the ‘Gorms. The sun shone all morning and the temperatures rose and rose.
There were hardly any good conditions over the standard Grade 2 gullies and slopes.
Richard wanted to do a climb he’d not done before. What was my biggest ambition in the Sneachda corrie? I know - the Seam.
I’ve always been slighly put off this great looking line since Wilco told me it was arkward, and Andy N. had told me only last week it sometimes is straighforward and sometimes tricky.
However, today it was completely different. You could say it was completely bare of snow or ice, apart from a few patches here and there. But it still looked enticing, so we went for it.
The snow slopes below the final chimney still needed tools and crampons, and when I brought Richard across to the final stance below the main pitch, I could see it would be purely rock climbing on the pitch. There was mud on ledges and in the groove every so often and I felt my crampons might be useful here and there?
The whole pitch left me speechless. It was jug city, beautiful climbing, very well protected by
Richard on the final chimney
good nuts and a fantastic excecise in bridging and pulling up on superb holds. In ten minutes or so I was at the bomb-proof stance just below the ridge, acheing for more of the same. Richard cruised the pitch, also in crampons, and he too wanted it to go on and on. Such was the quality of the climbing.
I am already yearning for a cold spell to return this season, or another dump of snow, or at least the winter of 2011. I can’t wait to do it again and again.
We skirted around to the Goat Track and carefully picked our way down to the valley floor. I asked Richard what we should do next in this area of slim Pickings today.
“Anything after that would be an anti-climax. Let’s bail while we are on top?”
Nearing the top of The seam
As we jettisoned all the gear to our sacks, even Patrick nearby couldn’t persuade us Fingers Ridge would be as good today as a rock climb. We had done it only a couple of weeks ago though.
I couldn’t get the memory of the exquisite rock climbing in crampons out of my head for 80% of the walk out. Soon the sight of the hordes of cars brought me to my senses.
Are they having as good a day as we’ve had, I wondered?
We’ll never know, but we were happy.
