I had never set foot on Arran before, which is shameful considering I live in Glasgow, but I have always heard it is good for walking and climbing. My friend, who has been on Arran several times, heard about the mountain festival and saw there was a guided walk along the A'Chir ridge which he had bypassed on previous walks and thought it would be a great chance to walk it.
We just made it to the outdoor centre in time to get a quick instruction on how to put our slings on, which is when I thought it was going to be more extreme than any scrambling I had done before.
The walk started in Glen Rosa and the weather was perfect, warm morning sun and blue skies. The group walked up Glen Rosa at an easy pace giving the group the chance to get to know one another and hear the guides point out places of interest and tell some stories about the area. We stopped for some lunch just below Cir Mhor where we were told that if we didn't fancy the ridge we could turn back.
A short climb took us to the the start of the rock climbing section where the guides set about putting a safety rope up. It was just as well they did, I was the second person to go along the section and had a wee slip but managed to get to the end of the section safely. There were plenty of other moments where the ropes were in use and I think the group was thankful for that especially at the bad step on the ridge. This was only a gap of half a metre which had to be jumped, but with vertical drops on each side the exposure was something else.
By the time we had reached the top I was a lot more tired out than what I would have expected, mostly from using muscles that aren't usually put to the test. But the wonderful views from the top made it worthwhile and I quickly forgot about my aches and pains. We could see Jura and even all the way over to the Antrim coast.
After the top it there was one more section which required the rope then it was a steady walk back down to Glen Rosa to catch our lift.
Having lacked any previous rock climbing experience i knew this was going to be an exhilarating, challenging and at times apprehensive walk. But with the guides always there to reassure you and advise you along the way everyone got passed the trickiest sections with no problems. I will certainly be back to Arran to walk the rest of the hills and ridges after this.
I must say a big thanks to the guides, Ali and Mick. They were full of knowledge and stories of the area and their times on the hills and you felt in very safe hands with them helping you along the hardest sections of the walk.
Gregor
Showing posts with label climbing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label climbing. Show all posts
Friday, 27 April 2012
Saturday, 25 June 2011
Twenty Reasons
We know what you are thinking: you’re looking for the…
…Ten Top Reasons to Visit Arran’s Mountains
1. No Munro baggers
The baggers are all off looking for high altitude peatbogs in the Cairngorms, which means the spiky little ‘uns are kept for the connoisseurs.
2. Ridges
From the Three Beinns ridge (steady) to Midnight Ridge Direct (a bit poky) there’s a magnificent edge for everybody. If you don’t like ridges, there’s a shop in Brodick that has fridges for everyone. It’s win/win!
3. Cool rock climbing
From the whispered-of boulder field of Fionn Coire to the sizzling quality of the Rosa Pinnacle, the coarse granite of north Arran is worth a day or two of any discerning climber’s time.
4. Cir Mhor
It’s really good! The best mountain on Arran(?) and up there with the best of hills in Scotland.
5. Classic mountain topography
In the spring time, the Brodick Co-op is packed with geography/geology students. They’re presumably on the island for the funky glacial features and not the fine bargains and friendly staff (or maybe they are!) – cavernous corries and lofty ridges abound.
6. The Arran Mountain Festival
20 events packed into four days, with good craic in the evenings. Get booking now! (Plug over…)
7. Multi-storey mountains
Whether you like to potter around in the bottom of wildlife-packed valleys, stamp over windy passes or scramble to lofty summits, Arran has accessible pleasure at every altitude.
8. The weather
“Holy moly! It was fine on the way up and now it’s raining upwards.” The complete experience!
9. Eagles and seagulls
Arran’s a bit of a stronghold for nature. On an average day out in the hills you might see gannets (you start by the sea), red squirrels (through the woods), and then butterflies, golden eagle, roseroot, adder etc. It’s all very jolly.
10. Accessibility
Arran’s two hours from the middle of Glasgow, it’s the southernmost bit of the highlands and the mountains are within walking distance of the ferry port at Brodick (just head towards the Co-op and keep going).
…Ten Top Reasons to Visit Arran’s Mountains
1. No Munro baggers
The baggers are all off looking for high altitude peatbogs in the Cairngorms, which means the spiky little ‘uns are kept for the connoisseurs.
2. Ridges
From the Three Beinns ridge (steady) to Midnight Ridge Direct (a bit poky) there’s a magnificent edge for everybody. If you don’t like ridges, there’s a shop in Brodick that has fridges for everyone. It’s win/win!
3. Cool rock climbing
From the whispered-of boulder field of Fionn Coire to the sizzling quality of the Rosa Pinnacle, the coarse granite of north Arran is worth a day or two of any discerning climber’s time.
4. Cir Mhor
It’s really good! The best mountain on Arran(?) and up there with the best of hills in Scotland.
5. Classic mountain topography
In the spring time, the Brodick Co-op is packed with geography/geology students. They’re presumably on the island for the funky glacial features and not the fine bargains and friendly staff (or maybe they are!) – cavernous corries and lofty ridges abound.
6. The Arran Mountain Festival
20 events packed into four days, with good craic in the evenings. Get booking now! (Plug over…)
7. Multi-storey mountains
Whether you like to potter around in the bottom of wildlife-packed valleys, stamp over windy passes or scramble to lofty summits, Arran has accessible pleasure at every altitude.
8. The weather
“Holy moly! It was fine on the way up and now it’s raining upwards.” The complete experience!
9. Eagles and seagulls
Arran’s a bit of a stronghold for nature. On an average day out in the hills you might see gannets (you start by the sea), red squirrels (through the woods), and then butterflies, golden eagle, roseroot, adder etc. It’s all very jolly.
10. Accessibility
Arran’s two hours from the middle of Glasgow, it’s the southernmost bit of the highlands and the mountains are within walking distance of the ferry port at Brodick (just head towards the Co-op and keep going).
But we have to be balanced. So here’s our best attempt at the…
…Ten Top Reasons not to Visit Arran’s Mountains
1. No Munros
Okay, so they’re not the biggest mountains in Scotland. (But since when did height matter?)
2. Fear
With all those serrated ridges and lofty summits, fear is a common reason to sack it off and go to the Beach (or the Co-op). Those in the know should sign up for a Mountain Festival guided walk and let someone else do the worrying.
3. Dodgy rock climbs
Back in the 1890s, the rock climbing in Arran’s hills had a reputation for being damp, dirty and vegetated, so if you’re a Victorian that’s stuck in time then you may not be that keen to give the crags a try.
4. They’re mountains
Some folk are fat, unfit, old, and their joints aren’t the ones they were born with… for whatever reason, some people can’t or don’t want to climb mountains. This website has some high quality alternatives.
5. Midges
Scotland’s own airborne piranhas love to hang out in the still, warm glens of Arran.
6. The weather
“Holy moly! It was fine on the way up and now it’s raining upwards.” Nightmare.
7. They’re in Scotland
Look; It’s hard to think of ten reasons… but if you live in Basingstoke or Newton Abbott then Arran probably doesn’t seem the closest place to visit. If this applies to you, you could always leave your job/school/family and move up here… they’re recruiting in the Brodick Co-op.
8. Allergies?!
This is getting harder. Maybe you have an allergy to heather?!
9. Okay. I give up. There probably aren’t ten reasons. Get up there.
Back in the 1890s, the rock climbing in Arran’s hills had a reputation for being damp, dirty and vegetated, so if you’re a Victorian that’s stuck in time then you may not be that keen to give the crags a try.
4. They’re mountains
Some folk are fat, unfit, old, and their joints aren’t the ones they were born with… for whatever reason, some people can’t or don’t want to climb mountains. This website has some high quality alternatives.
5. Midges
Scotland’s own airborne piranhas love to hang out in the still, warm glens of Arran.
6. The weather
“Holy moly! It was fine on the way up and now it’s raining upwards.” Nightmare.
7. They’re in Scotland
Look; It’s hard to think of ten reasons… but if you live in Basingstoke or Newton Abbott then Arran probably doesn’t seem the closest place to visit. If this applies to you, you could always leave your job/school/family and move up here… they’re recruiting in the Brodick Co-op.
8. Allergies?!
This is getting harder. Maybe you have an allergy to heather?!
9. Okay. I give up. There probably aren’t ten reasons. Get up there.
Tuesday, 15 February 2011
Winter traverse of A’ Chir Ridge
8/12/10 David Lilly and Darryl Urquart-Dixon
Some early snow and sub-zero temperatures presented an opportunity for some rare pre-Christmas winter mountaineering this year on Arran, so last Wednesday Darryl Urquart-Dixon (of MRT & Balmichael) and I decided we would attempt a winter traverse of A’ Chir Ridge. Having completed the ridge often in warmer clines we knew the route well and fancied our chances in winter. Obviously the gear differs in winter, notably with crampons and axes. I wondered whether Messrs’ Douglas, Campbell, Gibson, Robertson, Fleming and Dr Leith completed the first traverse of A’Chir Ridge on 30th January 1892 in similar conditions - certainly, they had hob-nail boots, woollen socks and tweed, not crampons, multi-layered Gortex and Down jackets!
Without a cloud in the sky we were walking up Glen Rosa enjoying the Sunrise lighting up the summit of Beinn á Chliabhain in silver-white rays, pink fell upon Goat Fell and orange on Cir Mhor. By 9 a.m. we arrived at Coire Buidhe with Cir Mhor’s ‘South Ridge Direct’ lit up above us. We pressed on to join the saddle at 591m where we prepared ourselves for the ridge. Despite the -5°c temperature, perhaps -15 with wind-chill factor, we marvelled at the most breathtaking views across our Western hills and beyond to the Paps. It was a winter wonderland - a carpet of snow from where we stood to as far as we could see, only interrupted by the still icy blue waters of the Sounds of Kilbrannen and Jura. We started to gain height toward the top of the first buttress at about 9.30 a.m. creating the first foot steps in the virgin snow as we went (pic1).
(pic 1/David Lilly ascending 1st buttress North end A’ Chir Ridge)
So far so good, but that soon came to an end. We arrived at the first down climb into the gully that leads to the Mauvais Pas section. In the summer this is an easy scramble but in these conditions we needed to abseil. The first abseil to a horizontal ledge went fine (pic 2). For the second abseil we slung the rope around a conical spike of rock at the far end of the ledge to traverse down the face of the wall below. I remained attached to the rope at the spike belay so Darryl could abseil in safety. I followed, edging my way off the ledge but was unable to guide the rope through a crack, as Darryl had, to keep me close to the face. With the rope running around the outside of the wall I felt myself being pulled away from the face and toward the 100m drop below. At this point the rope started to rise up the spike and with no-one on the belay I was in severe danger had I continued (pic 3), so I climbed up and fixed a new belay, from which I could suspend a Scottish Prop Forward, and made my way down. Any passers-by please note; the 8ft sling and Simond Karabiner on a jammed-rock are mine!
(pic 2/Darryl Urquart-Dixon 1st abseil off buttress 1)
(pic 3/David 2nd abseil off buttress 1)
Nerves in check I readied for the bicycle step chimney, the first part of the ‘Mauvais Pas’ section. Darryl led in his usual voracious fashion, whilst I followed by gentler means only to find again that this ridge in winter shares none of its summer hospitality. Snow and haw-frosted rock aside, I managed to get my right crampon stuck in the chimney and had to lower myself down on one axe to lever it out with the other, then haul myself up until I could get some purchase with my feet. I sat on the 1ft wide ledge looking down the 50m sheer face below thinking how utterly useless I felt. I blethered on about summer sun, vertical hot granite walls, sticky rock shoes and how I was made to go up; not down, sideways and in holes with unforgiving crampons on my feet! Darryl - in his element said; “I don’t do all that fancy dancing about on rock stuff, this is my kind of climbing!” And with that, off he went up the ledge to the next belay under the vertical section (pic 4).
(pic 4/Darryl moving up Mauvais Pas Ledge)
As I arrived at the belay, enjoying the exposure, Darryl asked if I was going to lead my usual bit. Absolutely; it was a perfect almost vertical climb up good rock with a few cracks for solid gear placement to protect me on the way. Clearing the snow out of the seams and flakes with my axe, about half way up I placed a good Cam (pic 5) and then continued up to the top to body belay Darryl behind me. As soon as he arrived, looking at my Cheshire grin, he knew I’d redeemed myself.
(pic 5/David leading the climb from the Ledge to the Mauvais Pas section)
Ahead, we crossed the ‘Mauvais Pas’ (Bad Step) with an abyss either side of the 1ft wide hole, as we approached the chimney leading up the third buttress. We cut our way up the steep 20m chimney, which often wet through summer, was surprisingly void of ice. Instead, unconsolidated fresh snow often gave way under foot and the quartzite rich granite in this section broke repeatedly under the lightest axe placement (pic 6). With little gear placement possible, it became hard work for both of us and at the top we could see our hands trembling with adrenaline from our battle with this unforgiving pitch.
(pic 6/Darryl working hard to lead the Mauvais Chimney pitch onto the 3rd main buttress)
We continued up the ridge toward the summit taking lines as conditions dictated, forgetting our prefixed ideas about the the route from previous summer experiences. Topping out at 745m we considered our options seated in a wind free hole at the summit whilst tucking in to our lunch and some much needed hot brew. At 2.30 p.m. we agreed to call it a day, we were both wearier than expected at this point and needed a further 1&½ hrs to complete the remaining ⅓rd of the ridge plus the down time. We took an exit route Darryl had previously used with Mountain Rescue which leads to an outcropping crag directly East of the summit, from where we looked back at our work on the Ridge (pic 7), and then descended 300m down the northern slope to Corie Buidhe.
(pic 7/A’ Chir Ridge, east facing Mauvais Pas section with line of route, and the top of Glen Iorsa below to the west)
To remind us of how our day started out, we were just down in time to see a different array of colours as the sun set the mountain tops ablaze with crimson. We didn’t feel beaten by the ridge, we felt privileged, perhaps accomplished to have achieved what we did on our first winter attempt. With this experience, no doubt we will be back to complete it another day, hopefully on some harder snow to assist progress. A’ Chir Ridge (Nth-Sth) in winter is possibly a Grade III or IV depending on conditions and a long haul; possibly a 5-6hr traverse with good snow and weather conditions, plus the 4hrs to walk in and out. A high level of endurance is a must and it bears no resemblance with the nature of the route in summer!
Thursday, 2 September 2010
A'Chir Ridge.
A week after Arranachs and our visitors had the company of Doug Scott, the first British man to conquer Everest in 1975 and a great inspiration to my life; I would like to share something more historic and emotive in my final summer climbing article unlike my previous detailed accounts.
On 30th January 1892 Messrs’ Douglas, Campbell, Gibson, Robertson, Fleming and Dr Leith completed the first South - North traverse of A’Chir Ridge (‘the comb’) between Beinn Tarsuinn and Cir Mhor. One of the party, William Douglas, an accomplished mountaineer of the Highlands and Alps, once said of Arran: “To know any hill well is indeed a privilege, but to become on intimate terms with a mountain group such as that of Arran, is something that adds much to a man's life.” I appreciate entirely his sentiment. 118 years later this classic traverse remains largely unchanged and it was our turn. On a crisp and slightly overcast morning my great friend Darryl Urquart-Dixon of Balmichael (MRT), myself and Tim Hobden, my surrogate brother from Buckinghamshire, set off to tackle the Ridge in the opposite direction to Douglas’ party.
Approached from Glen Rosa toward Coire Buidhe below Cir Mhor and up to a col at 591m we gained the Ridge along a path leading to the first section of easily navigated boulders. This brought us to A’Chir’s first great granite buttress whose Cyclopean wall dominated the foreground like a mighty rampart protecting what lay beyond. With Tim’s eerie broken spectre below us we scrambled our way up the arête with an airy void to the left which was only broken 40 meters below by a sea of mist.
The views were astounding as we crossed the top of the buttress to reach a sudden drop which, given I think we veered from the route, required a careful scramble descent and an uncomfortable crawl under an overhanging boulder to reach a gully where we prepared for the climb. The very amusing ‘Bicycle Step’ (or ‘Chimney’, SMC Journal Vol.3 No.4) offered the opportunity for some laughs on a damp day as I watch both my colleagues attack head on the slippery polished rock (pic1) as they tried to squeeze themselves through a gap only big enough for a child.
.JPG)
Tim Hobden squeezing himself through the Bicycle Step Chimney on A’Chir Ridge (pic1)
I decided a delicate approach was more my style rather than a full on frontal assault opted for by the bigger men. Traversing along the face on a seam for my feet and the edge of the upper shelf for my hands I pulled up to join my friends, grinning from ear to ear with their boots dangling over the precipice (pic2).
+and+Tim+(L)+on+the+Chimney+Ledge+(Medium).JPG)
Darryl & Tim on the ledge before the climb up to the ‘Mauvais Pas’ (pic2)
Darryl led the way up the exposed mid-face ledge with its vertical drop at the edge of our fingers as we crept up to a head wall and our first short climb. I volunteered to lead, placing some gear into a crack half way up for the rope to secure me should I fall. Sitting on the platform at the top I body belayed (90kgs of) Tim as he admirably handled his sweaty palms and nerves on his first climb. From this section we reached the ‘Mauvais Pas’ (bad step) after a lofty scramble around some obstacles to reach a narrow flat block which we jumped down to before Darryl, rope in hand, gave us his impression of disco legs as he hopped across the gap in the rock which opened below to treacherous gullies on both sides – bad step indeed! (pic3, below).
.JPG)
Darryl carefully leading Tim across the ‘Mauvais Pas’ whilst Tim’s just hanging on (pic3)
Tim tentatively weighed up his options, knees trembling; crawl or go-for-it. He opted for both! Looking on, keeping to the left and the natural arête of the next buttress we scaled a gradually inclining chimney which was testing in the damp, particularly dodging Tim’s debris as I followed. After an intense deviation where Tim nearly broke his tibia in a deep slab crack as we down climbed, we moved on unhindered to the summit at 745m with about 1km of the Ridge completed. The views back under a clearing sky were breathtaking; the jagged pinnacles of Cir Mhor, the colourful ‘U’ shaped glacial glen of Rosa and Iorsa with Loch Tanna and the Kilbrannen Sound in the distance, and to the South; the blocky Consolation Tor and outline of Beinns Tarsuinn
and Nuis sketched by the sun through misty skies.
The exposure and environment were truly inspiring and thought provoking; more than once we discussed how insignificant we were in this mighty landscape. These views were enjoyed over a brew before we set off on the remainder of the Ridge which offered at least three other interesting challenges: a featureless 4m vertical block with only a rounded foot wide crack to use as best we could, a 10m crumbling chimney and a chock stone defying gravity, especially with me on it (pic4), all of which added diversity to the traverse.
A final contemplation was enjoyed as we looked back at the ridge from Beinn á Chliabhain (pic5), with the knowledge that experience, fair weather and proper equipment make A’Chir a thrilling day’s adventure across one of the finest ridges in Scotland with its own unique character and surprises.
.JPG)
David contemplating his future on the chock stone (pic4)
+Darryl+%26+David+(R),+A%27Chir+behind+(Medium).JPG)
The 2010 team. Tim Hobden, Darryl Urquart-Dixon and David Lilly with A’Chir Ridge behind (pic5)
Article by D.Lilly, as featured in the Arran Banner, all photos copyright D.Lilly 2010.
On 30th January 1892 Messrs’ Douglas, Campbell, Gibson, Robertson, Fleming and Dr Leith completed the first South - North traverse of A’Chir Ridge (‘the comb’) between Beinn Tarsuinn and Cir Mhor. One of the party, William Douglas, an accomplished mountaineer of the Highlands and Alps, once said of Arran: “To know any hill well is indeed a privilege, but to become on intimate terms with a mountain group such as that of Arran, is something that adds much to a man's life.” I appreciate entirely his sentiment. 118 years later this classic traverse remains largely unchanged and it was our turn. On a crisp and slightly overcast morning my great friend Darryl Urquart-Dixon of Balmichael (MRT), myself and Tim Hobden, my surrogate brother from Buckinghamshire, set off to tackle the Ridge in the opposite direction to Douglas’ party.
Approached from Glen Rosa toward Coire Buidhe below Cir Mhor and up to a col at 591m we gained the Ridge along a path leading to the first section of easily navigated boulders. This brought us to A’Chir’s first great granite buttress whose Cyclopean wall dominated the foreground like a mighty rampart protecting what lay beyond. With Tim’s eerie broken spectre below us we scrambled our way up the arête with an airy void to the left which was only broken 40 meters below by a sea of mist.
The views were astounding as we crossed the top of the buttress to reach a sudden drop which, given I think we veered from the route, required a careful scramble descent and an uncomfortable crawl under an overhanging boulder to reach a gully where we prepared for the climb. The very amusing ‘Bicycle Step’ (or ‘Chimney’, SMC Journal Vol.3 No.4) offered the opportunity for some laughs on a damp day as I watch both my colleagues attack head on the slippery polished rock (pic1) as they tried to squeeze themselves through a gap only big enough for a child.
.JPG)
Tim Hobden squeezing himself through the Bicycle Step Chimney on A’Chir Ridge (pic1)
I decided a delicate approach was more my style rather than a full on frontal assault opted for by the bigger men. Traversing along the face on a seam for my feet and the edge of the upper shelf for my hands I pulled up to join my friends, grinning from ear to ear with their boots dangling over the precipice (pic2).
+and+Tim+(L)+on+the+Chimney+Ledge+(Medium).JPG)
Darryl & Tim on the ledge before the climb up to the ‘Mauvais Pas’ (pic2)
Darryl led the way up the exposed mid-face ledge with its vertical drop at the edge of our fingers as we crept up to a head wall and our first short climb. I volunteered to lead, placing some gear into a crack half way up for the rope to secure me should I fall. Sitting on the platform at the top I body belayed (90kgs of) Tim as he admirably handled his sweaty palms and nerves on his first climb. From this section we reached the ‘Mauvais Pas’ (bad step) after a lofty scramble around some obstacles to reach a narrow flat block which we jumped down to before Darryl, rope in hand, gave us his impression of disco legs as he hopped across the gap in the rock which opened below to treacherous gullies on both sides – bad step indeed! (pic3, below).
.JPG)
Darryl carefully leading Tim across the ‘Mauvais Pas’ whilst Tim’s just hanging on (pic3)
Tim tentatively weighed up his options, knees trembling; crawl or go-for-it. He opted for both! Looking on, keeping to the left and the natural arête of the next buttress we scaled a gradually inclining chimney which was testing in the damp, particularly dodging Tim’s debris as I followed. After an intense deviation where Tim nearly broke his tibia in a deep slab crack as we down climbed, we moved on unhindered to the summit at 745m with about 1km of the Ridge completed. The views back under a clearing sky were breathtaking; the jagged pinnacles of Cir Mhor, the colourful ‘U’ shaped glacial glen of Rosa and Iorsa with Loch Tanna and the Kilbrannen Sound in the distance, and to the South; the blocky Consolation Tor and outline of Beinns Tarsuinn
and Nuis sketched by the sun through misty skies.
The exposure and environment were truly inspiring and thought provoking; more than once we discussed how insignificant we were in this mighty landscape. These views were enjoyed over a brew before we set off on the remainder of the Ridge which offered at least three other interesting challenges: a featureless 4m vertical block with only a rounded foot wide crack to use as best we could, a 10m crumbling chimney and a chock stone defying gravity, especially with me on it (pic4), all of which added diversity to the traverse.
A final contemplation was enjoyed as we looked back at the ridge from Beinn á Chliabhain (pic5), with the knowledge that experience, fair weather and proper equipment make A’Chir a thrilling day’s adventure across one of the finest ridges in Scotland with its own unique character and surprises.
.JPG)
David contemplating his future on the chock stone (pic4)
+Darryl+%26+David+(R),+A%27Chir+behind+(Medium).JPG)
The 2010 team. Tim Hobden, Darryl Urquart-Dixon and David Lilly with A’Chir Ridge behind (pic5)
Article by D.Lilly, as featured in the Arran Banner, all photos copyright D.Lilly 2010.
Full Mead Tower, near Beinn Nuis.
The week after my ‘South Ridge Direct’ climb with Darryl the unusually long period of dry weather continued and a plethora of routes normally impossible due to the usual summer showers came into play. Many superb crags on the island are prone to seepage between the slabs of granite, making the rock dangerous to climb, one such is Full Mead Tower on the Nuis-Tarsuinn ridge which I have been dreaming of climbing since I moved here. This 120m jumble of granite blocks, one on top of each other, resembles a game of Jenga; one wrong move and the whole lot will come down. So, it was with heightened anxiety that I approached the foot of this intimidating tower with Stuart Wallace, a Mountain Rescue Team member from Lamlash. We agreed on the ‘severe’ graded ‘Full Mead Chimney’ route; a near vertical cleft in the mountain, sustained mix of cracks and right-angled blocks with good solid security. First recorded by GC Curtis & GH Townend in 1947, it is hard to find much written about it, in the end all we had were four lines attributed to it in the 1997 SMC Arran guide book. We approached the start via a 50m gully scramble to the right and across a thin grassy ledge leading to the Chimney. We arranged our 60m rope and rack of gear as we looked up excitedly at the Chimney for the first time. I set off on the first pitch with my heart in my mouth as I looked at a cavernous hole to my right and 6m section of overhanging blocks (pic1) that I had to make my way up before I could place some gear.
.JPG)
David Lilly leading 30m pitch 1 of Full Mead Chimney
My nervousness is always apparent to me, well hidden from my partner, when I start a climb on anything serious but anxiety quickly subsides once the first few bits of metalwork are in afterwhich calmness takes over. To reach the second section of this pitch I had to bridge across the dark abyss to my right in order to fix a cam in the opposing wall, which was a little unnerving. Then, following a pitch of another 8m with no gear placement I found good friction underfoot and some holds between each block to a ledge where I secured some rock-nuts. The final section of the first 30m pitch proved to be the most exciting for me, an exposed and technically interesting passage. Not only did the route become more vertical but it turned into a series of downward sloping flakes interrupted by grassed cracks almost as steep as the rock. The rear tread on my combi-shoes allowed me to use the grass where necessary and the sticky rubber on the toe to generate considerable friction on the rock when laybacks and a left knee drop were required to ascend this section freely. I must admit, before I reached the first belay point, the sustained nature of this pitch was apparent as I puffed like an old locomotive. Safely secured on a small ledge halfway up the face with a view across to the imposing face of Nuis, I slowly pulled the rope in as Wally ascended; it was a silent 20 minutes or so until I heard him puffing away like I had until he joined me on the ledge. The start of the second pitch was tricky, hard to balance and create force in various directions to overcome two facing walls on a 120 degree angle, but with his long gait Wally climbed well to reach a small rounded dome of weathered granite to place a sling and secure the lead rope (pic2).
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Stuart ‘Wally’ Wallace leading 15m pitch 2 of Full Mead Chimney
The angle of the chimney then closed to 90 degrees making it more enjoyable to scale, but as he gained the upper section he had little choice but to use one leg as a piece of gear. By wedging it into a vertical opening in the rock he pushed himself upwards with a technique he described as ‘thrutching’; a word that sounds as attractive as the technique. With much effort he surmounted this right angled upper section to another ledge about 110m above the base of the Tower which offered tremendous views across Kintyre to Ireland in the distance. Above was a brutish end to an otherwise technically interesting yet rewarding pitch. The only way up was to hug a 7m vertical ‘V’ ridged block with the legs, squeezing the knees, both arms out straight with flat hands slapped on the granite, then push upwards until hand holds allowed for some normality to resume. At the top was a large table-top rock balancing above us which we pulled over to the next belay. I think Wally had a well earned laugh at my expense watching me fight gravity to get up this section; he did well to lead it. He ushered me on to lead the final pitch; a scramble up a broken gully to a featureless headwall which I was not keen on ‘thrutching’ up without security. On the right vertical wall was a thin diagonal seam for finger holds, so with my feet planted on the rock I pushed up and straightened my arms to work my way up and across. To get to the top of the head wall I placed two cams with foot slings in a crack about 4ms up the wall and ‘Aid climbed’ my way across. As I reached the top of the head wall with my outstretched left foot and clawed at a hand hold above I was able to reach down and remove the last cam, allowing Wally to work up to the first, remove it, down climb to the ledge and ascend the head wall whilst secured from above. This reminded me of how mentally challenging a first on-sight attempt can be and of a quote by Larry Kersten; “before you attempt to beat the odds, be sure you can survive the odds beating you”. In good company with the right conditions, Full Mead Chimney along with South Ridge Direct have shown me that Arran has granite climbing to rival the best in the World, and some Top climbers to boot! (Many thanks to Wally & Darryl)
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Blue: approach. Red: pitches 1, 2 & 3 of climb.
Article by D.Lilly. As featured in the Arran Banner, all photos copyright D.Lilly 2010.
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David Lilly leading 30m pitch 1 of Full Mead Chimney
My nervousness is always apparent to me, well hidden from my partner, when I start a climb on anything serious but anxiety quickly subsides once the first few bits of metalwork are in afterwhich calmness takes over. To reach the second section of this pitch I had to bridge across the dark abyss to my right in order to fix a cam in the opposing wall, which was a little unnerving. Then, following a pitch of another 8m with no gear placement I found good friction underfoot and some holds between each block to a ledge where I secured some rock-nuts. The final section of the first 30m pitch proved to be the most exciting for me, an exposed and technically interesting passage. Not only did the route become more vertical but it turned into a series of downward sloping flakes interrupted by grassed cracks almost as steep as the rock. The rear tread on my combi-shoes allowed me to use the grass where necessary and the sticky rubber on the toe to generate considerable friction on the rock when laybacks and a left knee drop were required to ascend this section freely. I must admit, before I reached the first belay point, the sustained nature of this pitch was apparent as I puffed like an old locomotive. Safely secured on a small ledge halfway up the face with a view across to the imposing face of Nuis, I slowly pulled the rope in as Wally ascended; it was a silent 20 minutes or so until I heard him puffing away like I had until he joined me on the ledge. The start of the second pitch was tricky, hard to balance and create force in various directions to overcome two facing walls on a 120 degree angle, but with his long gait Wally climbed well to reach a small rounded dome of weathered granite to place a sling and secure the lead rope (pic2).
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Stuart ‘Wally’ Wallace leading 15m pitch 2 of Full Mead Chimney
The angle of the chimney then closed to 90 degrees making it more enjoyable to scale, but as he gained the upper section he had little choice but to use one leg as a piece of gear. By wedging it into a vertical opening in the rock he pushed himself upwards with a technique he described as ‘thrutching’; a word that sounds as attractive as the technique. With much effort he surmounted this right angled upper section to another ledge about 110m above the base of the Tower which offered tremendous views across Kintyre to Ireland in the distance. Above was a brutish end to an otherwise technically interesting yet rewarding pitch. The only way up was to hug a 7m vertical ‘V’ ridged block with the legs, squeezing the knees, both arms out straight with flat hands slapped on the granite, then push upwards until hand holds allowed for some normality to resume. At the top was a large table-top rock balancing above us which we pulled over to the next belay. I think Wally had a well earned laugh at my expense watching me fight gravity to get up this section; he did well to lead it. He ushered me on to lead the final pitch; a scramble up a broken gully to a featureless headwall which I was not keen on ‘thrutching’ up without security. On the right vertical wall was a thin diagonal seam for finger holds, so with my feet planted on the rock I pushed up and straightened my arms to work my way up and across. To get to the top of the head wall I placed two cams with foot slings in a crack about 4ms up the wall and ‘Aid climbed’ my way across. As I reached the top of the head wall with my outstretched left foot and clawed at a hand hold above I was able to reach down and remove the last cam, allowing Wally to work up to the first, remove it, down climb to the ledge and ascend the head wall whilst secured from above. This reminded me of how mentally challenging a first on-sight attempt can be and of a quote by Larry Kersten; “before you attempt to beat the odds, be sure you can survive the odds beating you”. In good company with the right conditions, Full Mead Chimney along with South Ridge Direct have shown me that Arran has granite climbing to rival the best in the World, and some Top climbers to boot! (Many thanks to Wally & Darryl)
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Blue: approach. Red: pitches 1, 2 & 3 of climb.
Article by D.Lilly. As featured in the Arran Banner, all photos copyright D.Lilly 2010.
South Ridge Direct, Cir Mhor.
Now summer is upon us, with an unusually long sunny dry spell, I swapped my ski boots for my climbing shoes and took to the Mountains of Arran once again on Saturday 12th June. Darryl Urquart-Dixon, Mountain Rescue Team member, and I started out from Glen Rosa heading towards Cir Mhor to climb the ‘South Ridge Direct’ route up this Alpine style mountain. The route, first recorded in 1941 by J.F. Hamilton and D. Paterson in the days of army-surplus pitons, creaky karabiners and the first nylon ropes, has long been considered a classic by the Scottish Mountaineering Club. With our modern tools; one 60m 10.3mm dynamic rope, harnesses, lids, a rack of rock-nuts, cams and hexe’s and a few other essentials stuffed in our packs; including our wives’ monster sandwiches, the ubiquitous first aid kit and the mandatory 2lts of water each, we reached the base of the route about 1 hour later. We sauntered up the first few scramble pitches of the route which provided a healthy warm up before the more strenuous ‘Very Severe’ graded pitches to come. Some 80ms up Darryl led the famous ‘S crack’, attacking this distinguished ‘Serious’ grade pitch in his usual physical fashion with big raking hand grabs up the ‘S’ shaped granite flakes securing gear for protection as he went. Soon it was my turn and once secured above the call of ‘Climb!’ bellowed down the rock face. With my sticky rock shoes on I was immediately impressed by the friction that this high quality granite provided, allowing most of the upward motion to be controlled and driven through the feet. This proved essential as I was able to conserve strength in my arms for the most serious pitch of the climb; the infamous ‘Y crack’. It was my turn to lead and although this pitch is short by comparison it is the subject of bar room gossip, conjecture and even fear. On the day, with the sun making the granite sticky the alleged ‘polished’ nature of the rock was not apparent. With some composed planning, reading the rock, a few delicate foot movements up to the overhanging section to find an upper hand hold on top of the ledge, positioned as if chiseled there on purpose, I was able to pull up and over onto a ledge that made a perfect belay for the second climber to be secured (Pic1).
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Some 200ms below we could see the multi-coloured helmets of other climbers starting out on ‘Prospero’s Prelude’ and we could hear another party chattering away to our right on ‘Sou’wester Slabs’; it was getting busy. Darryl vanished in the distance, traversing across a wide inclined ledge to reach the ‘Layback crack’ belay (pic2). Leading again he secured gear in the almost vertical right angled crack until he disappeared diagonally along a weathered hand seam protruding from the otherwise smooth but grippy steep inclined slab. Not until I reached this section did I realise the exposure he had been in, covering 20ms with one gear placement as no earlier opportunity had presented itself. Arriving at a large ledge we encountered an RAF Mountain Rescue group from the Cairngorms, who were the voices we heard echoing up ‘Sou’wester slabs’, so we stopped to devour our sandwiches and take on some liquid. After the obligatory rib-tickling banter with the RAF we took on the ‘Three Tier Chimney’, our final real climbing pitch of the day, which although not technically difficult certainly demanded brawn not brains and a scrap to get up.
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After 3 hours we’d reached the summit; time for some back slapping, arrange the gear and head for the pub…another Arran Adventure in the Bag!
For all those thinking about attempting this or any climbing route always remember; ‘there are old climbers and there are bold climbers, but there are no old bold climbers’.
Article by D.Lilly. As featured in the Arran Banner, all photos copyright D.Lilly 2010.
.JPG)
Some 200ms below we could see the multi-coloured helmets of other climbers starting out on ‘Prospero’s Prelude’ and we could hear another party chattering away to our right on ‘Sou’wester Slabs’; it was getting busy. Darryl vanished in the distance, traversing across a wide inclined ledge to reach the ‘Layback crack’ belay (pic2). Leading again he secured gear in the almost vertical right angled crack until he disappeared diagonally along a weathered hand seam protruding from the otherwise smooth but grippy steep inclined slab. Not until I reached this section did I realise the exposure he had been in, covering 20ms with one gear placement as no earlier opportunity had presented itself. Arriving at a large ledge we encountered an RAF Mountain Rescue group from the Cairngorms, who were the voices we heard echoing up ‘Sou’wester slabs’, so we stopped to devour our sandwiches and take on some liquid. After the obligatory rib-tickling banter with the RAF we took on the ‘Three Tier Chimney’, our final real climbing pitch of the day, which although not technically difficult certainly demanded brawn not brains and a scrap to get up.
.jpg)
After 3 hours we’d reached the summit; time for some back slapping, arrange the gear and head for the pub…another Arran Adventure in the Bag!
For all those thinking about attempting this or any climbing route always remember; ‘there are old climbers and there are bold climbers, but there are no old bold climbers’.
Article by D.Lilly. As featured in the Arran Banner, all photos copyright D.Lilly 2010.
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