Jade Littlewood

So that you know why I've not been climbing much lately, why I've not been drawing buildings and why I've not been visiting. A blog for excuses!

[jadelittlewood]

My Blog has changed address!!

I have a new website and blog platform here

[jadelittlewood]

Dehydration thwarts Dreamer

I have procrastinated to the worlds end whilst trying to decide what order to start trying to catch up with my blogging in. Unfortunately I have really let things slip over the summer and for that I apologize. There have just been too many trips to write about and too many hours away from my computer making the most of the long days. Then the back log builds-up so much that I don't know where to begin, do I tackle the obvious and most recent major trip to Yosemite first, letting previous but nevertheless significant weekend trips and progressions fall by the way-side, or do I just ignore the elephant in the room and start from the beginning of the demise in my blogging, way back in July, until I'm up to date? Well, as I sit in the Black Sheep coffee shop in Bishop on a rest day from bouldering whilst on yet another trip (over Christmas 2014) that I eventually want to blog about I have decided, rightly on wrongly, to dive in at the beginning and finish off my TR about an eventful trip down to Darrington in July. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin....

Yet another long weekend descended upon us at the beginning of an unusually scorching July and for once Beth and I had a calendar that aligned and an appetite for an adventure. It took us a while to narrow down the scope of our psyche to a long alpine rock route with a non glacier approach (only to reduce the logistics and time in an approach vs maximise time on rock). We set our sights on a route called Dreamer on Green Giant Buttress in Darrington Washington. I’d driven through Darrington before but neither of us had ever climbed there, although Beth and Paul had previously tried to get on the route but had gone painfully wrong on the approach resulting in a 6-hour bush-whack that took them no closer to the base. The ordeal seemed to cause them both a lot of heart-ache so I didn’t push for more information. I guess it was long enough ago for Beth’s psyche for the route to return again though.

(Green Giant Buttress in the centre)

Dreamer offers a 10-pitch climb on swooping granite slabs with lots of interesting stumpy chicken heads for delicate 5.7-5.8 climbing low down and burlier crack climbing for the 5.9 grade higher on the route. It sounded like a great proposition for a fun outing for the Denny-Jaddles partnership to be reunited.

Both in need of a bit of a rest (and because we couldn't really agree on a destination that got us both inspired enough for 3 days worth of climbing) we favoured a leisurely Saturday morning departure time over the usual Friday night-right after work-scramble to the border. This would find us at camp after a shopping stop off at REI in Bellingham and a good feed at the taco truck still with plenty of time to set up our tents in the light, get organised for the route the next day and make up a good dinner. As an ode to our friends who were away on a 'Pontiki' adventure on a boat on the sunshine coast, which we slightly guiltily opted out of in lieu of a climbing adventure, we made up our own 'backcountry' tiki drinks with a cleverly crafted umbrella Beth made from an old trail map and some twigs! The chilled cocktails were very much welcomed in the continued evening heat.

(Back country tiki drinks!)

With a full summer day ahead of us and a possibly unwarranted confidence about our ability to thrash out 10-pitches of 5.9 in a reasonable time, we took a reasonably leisurely approach to starting out in the morning. Rising around 7am and leaving camp around 8am by the time we had tackled the dirt road challenge in Matey (Beth's trust Toyota Matrix) to the assumed parking spot we were probably on the trail not much earlier than 9am. Still feeling good about the time and the remaining daylight.

We shortly stumbled across a disheveled looking duo bivvied by the side of their truck a little way up the path who we assumed must have done something huge the day before. They looked pretty beat as they slouched out their sleeping bags to make coffee with effort. As we chatted to them they revealed they had endured a 'huge' day on Dreamer. We felt a little guilty stumbling in at the slovenly hour that it we were compared to their '6am' start. Thier one imperative piece of beta being to 'take PLENTY of water'. We walked away as I reassured Beth were still on the money with our decision making, almost cocky with complacency.

It didn't take long on the walk-in to work out that the temps that day were going to be excruciatingly grueling. Beth found the hidden tunnel opening essential to picking up the runnel trail through the drainage line pretty easily and we started what would turn out to be a 2.5hr slog to the base of the route. As Beth groaned with every thorny bush that attacked our bare skin I threw back stupid amounts of our water supply, stopping to catch my breathe in the insane humidity much more than I would usually need to. My stoic confidence started to reveal some cracks as I wondered if maybe ginger beard and his buddy from the bivy earlier were right about the seriousness of the long day ahead of us and the amount of water we might need, I wasn't ready to admit it though.

We popped out of the vegetated runnel with a bit of a battle with branches and thorns and as we emerged onto the baking slabs near the base of the route I realised I had lost my half full water bottle somewhere in the midst of the undergrowth. I was a little too preoccupied with awe for the cool looking granite sweeping above to worry too much about it at the time though.

Thankfully we found the start of the route with relative ease at a bolted belay and soon I was romping up the first 5.7 slabby corner with ease. The pitch was run out but I felt confident enough to enjoy the climbing without much stress, with the thick black rubber under my feet burning my flesh with every step though I did ponder how stressful the situation might be for the 5.9 climber, let alone the 5.7 climber. Beth made short work of seconding the pitch, trailing another line behind her for the abseil and with a swift change over I was off on the next pitch. This time a 5.8, equally run out and slabby with some really cool chicken heads scattered about the rock for the occasional solid foot hold. Although in the heat the polished little features felt pretty slick and not as reassuringly solid as I had wanted, I moved quickly so that my shoes didn't have time to slip off and so that I didn't think too hard about the quality of the old, thin bolts that I had only clipped every 10m or so.

Romping in the heat over run-out terrain definitely left me a little short of breathe when I reached the belay stations however and I was certainly feeling the consequences of being so exposed in such incredible heat, light headed and dizzy I chugged back the water clipped to my harness before bringing Beth up who seemed to be dealing with the sun much better than me despite her red-head's complexion.

After some more wandering slabs and chicken heads we started to reach the 5.9 crack terrain and I concentrated a little more on way finding since many more bolted stations seemed to be appearing for other routes that could easily confuse the situation. Fairly confident we were still on route I enjoyed some burlier crack climbing with natural pro. Although the climbing was well within my capabilities and should have been super fun, the added physicality of the crack climbing only intensified my suffering in the heat and every twist of the foot into a crack felt like someone was taking a flame to my toes. I arrived at the belay at the end of the 5th pitch (halfway up the route) dizzy, delusional and aware I was making some very weird oral contortions in an effort to generate saliva but unable to stop myself from doing it. I was completely out of water and unable to communicate with Beth effectively to let her know I was secure until I had ripped the scorching shoes from my feet. I could tell she was worried and so was I. With five more pitches to go in the midday sun and next to no water left, the prognosis was inevitable. Even if I made it to the top on that little water and despite my cramping muscles, we had ten pitches to abseil too. I knew she was a good enough friend to insist we went down and although reluctant to admit it, I knew she would be right.

As she reached the belay she gave me her remaining water and started to lead the abs. I was thankful that Beth hopped on the task with such conviction as although the line looked fairly obvious and straightforward, conjuring the brain power to take control of the situation for the both of us was way more effort than was within my remit at that point.

Although we were going down my situation wasn't going to get any better until we hit a water source, which was going to be the waterfall at the base of the drainage line bush-whack, or more optimistically if we happened to magically stumble across the half bottle of water I'd dropped on the way up. Obviously my imagination was pinned to that outcome.

Beth was the best friend and climbing partner one could hope for in that type of situation, with no qualms about sacrificing our success on the route for my comfort/safety and being very understanding about my situation on the walk out despite seemingly having little problem in dealing with hydration and the intense heat herself.

A real low point came when we realised that a lack of nutrition was probably adding to the muscle cramps I'd been experiencing since the second or third pitch. I was too dehydrated to contemplate food but as we coiled the ropes and my biceps spasmed I decided to try to force down the most accessible snack I'd brought – a dry peanut trail bar. This was a complete failure as with next to no ability to generate saliva there was no way I was capable of chewing and effectively swallowing the bar. I tossed it aside deciding to give it a go again when we hit water.

Feeling like never before after a hot and tiring day on the rock Beth and both plunged ecstatically into the pools at the bottom of the waterfall, running to reach them as soon as they came into view. It sounds like I'm really sensationalizing the situation for a good story but if this is how it is reading to you it is only down to the fact that my poor writing skills are incapable of portraying quite how surprised I was at how terrible I felt in a perceptibly typical situation; I mean, its not like I've not endured exposure to heat on a rock climb before, or indeed needed to tough things out a little and on top of that, the climb should have been well within both our grade limits, but I honestly have never felt so seriously dehydrated and unsafe to continue before ever.

Despite not finishing the route I think Beth and I both felt like we had endured a challenging adventure that weekend and came away with lots of lessons to learn from: never underestimate an endeavor, there is no such thing as starting too early - you can just go to the pub sooner if you finish earlier than intended, take more water than you think and then add more on a hot day and finally, when we go back to do battle with 'Dreamer' again, which I fully intend to do, make sure not to attempt it on the hottest day of the year at 30 degrees Celsius!

As an addendum to this trip report I'd like to pass on the findings of my research on the area and route prior to setting off on the weekend, I didn't find too much that you wouldn't in a shorting interneting session, but if it helps to cut that short at all here is where a good topo can be found at http://www.mattsea.com/Darr/pdf/dreamer.pdf. This is totally awesome and a great big thanks to the guys who made it available. Because I get confused easily but because I also like tinkering in adobe I changed the graphics a little to make it easier to read the route if anyone wants it. There is also a good photo topo that came in pretty handy in the Washington Rock guide.

[jadelittlewood]

U-wall

A while ago when, as often happens, Paulie and I were California dreaming we chatted about how it would be good to fit in an attempt of U-wall before we left for the valley. The 8 pitch route up the left of the Grand Wall on Squamish’s cheif was originally put up as an aid route until superstar Peter Croft came and freed the thing at 12-, or 12d if you do the ‘shadow’ at the 2nd pitch rather than heading left. With some steep rock and intimidating long pitches it would provide us with a good staging platform for some of the techniques and styles we’d need on the aid pitches on the nose. Realising that with other trip plans and Paulies parents imminent visit, the attempt on U-wall had to be soon. ‘Climbing this weekend?’ Said Paulies usual midweek email. ‘Aye what you keen’ for I said ‘By the way’ I added we should discuss a good time to go do U-Wall’. ‘Hmmm’ came Paulie’s reply ‘I’m busy Sunday, which means Saturday is our last chance!’. I was game and we began busily making a plan come together.

With just a single day window we knew we’d have to ignore the advice of our friend who’d done the route before who suggested it would be a good idea to fix a couple of ropes the day before so we could get a couple of pitches up quickly first thing and then go for the push in a day. We would just have to see what we could get done on the Saturday with no time for fixing.

To add to the slowness factor we’d also decided to take the haul bag, we knew it would slow us down a lot but that it would be great for practice, with awkward hanging belays and some lower-outs to manoeuvre. After all, U-wall was for practice, sure we could probably finish the thing in a day without hauling, but that wasn’t the point!

To save time I did however suggest that we go up Friday night and bivi under the route. It isn’t a big walk in but it is steep and long enough that carrying the haul bag in in the morning could easily swallow an hour, not to mention if we lost track of the deceptive trail among the boulders or had to spend time taking the tents down from the likes of the Chief campsite.

So we hit the road to Squamish around 6.30pm after work and after stopping to fill our 2 litre soda bottles full of water, for extra weight in the haul bag, we hit up ‘Mags 99’ for some tasty Mexican food. Everyone had been recommending the new restaurant to me (it sits in the old KFC building just on your left on highway 99 as you reach Squamish) but I hadn’t had the chance to check it out. Whilst the special pork tacos (that were recommended to us by the waitress) were super tasty, the amount of food wasn’t quite to the portion we were hoping that would keep us fueled through the next day, so be warned if you can pack a lot of food away!

(Mags 99 for dinner)

After our Mexican it was getting dark and we decided we should make our way up through the boulders. Paulie opted to carry in the haul bag while I said I would lump it out. Finding a flat spot to bivi near the base of the route was more tricky than first anticipated but we managed to find a spot just big enough, literally under the awesome looking line of ‘Sunblessed’.

(Our bivi just under ‘Sun-blessed)

The bivi was comfortable but in my -7 down sleeping bag and uber rated Exped mattress it was way too sweltering in the Squamish heat to get the good nights sleep I wanted, not to mention the adrenaline in anticipation of the next days adventure keeping me awake. 

Tired but excited we dismantled the bivi and packed the haul bag at 5am. We set off up the scramble on top the flake. It’s worth noting that this looks like an improbable approach but it definitely goes despite looking sketchy as hell. Thankfully it looked way less sketchy in the light of dawn than it did the night before by head-torch. Still, it was kinda exciting getting the haul bag over to the thankfully fairly big ledge that exists below the 1st pitch. I took the first lead on what can only be described as an incredibly intimidating steep corner. It was also a little damp, and did I mention it was steep-holy steep.

(Setting up the belay after traversing in on the fixed line)

Thankfully I soon seemed to get into my aid climbing stride, which is incredibly slow by the way, but feels somewhat methodical and bizarrely relaxing once you get into the zone of hanging on small gear that is probably sub-par to the standards I would want to place when anticipating a fall free climbing. The pitch required a huge amount of patience and focus and although it seemed to take forever I just tried to keep concentrating on the task in hand and not think about how long it was taking, how much expansive steep rock was above me or how scary the situation could look if I stopped concentrating on the methodical minutia and looked outside of that. Set peice, clip etriers, move up, repeat.

I reached the belay after well over two hours and despite feeling like I was constantly back cleaning I was almost totally out of gear. It felt epic, but there was no room in my brain to contemplate that. I needed to fix Paulie's line and set about hauling. I was reasonably pleased with how quickly I set up the haul and I thought I had laid the belay out nicely so everything was cluster-fuck free. It was, but hauling from an almost free hanging belay was very difficult and I found it hard to body haul since there was no real ledge to place my feet on to thrust down in a squat position. Despite this, the bag came up without any further glitches and soon Paulie was also at the belay to start the prep for the next pitch. It was time for me to go again.

Next came the shadow pitch. U-wall as a free climb actually heads out to the dihedral left of the shadow toward an ominous looking wooden bivi ledge. Hanging below the infamous shadow pitch I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to climb that line, even if it was on aid. Again this pitch provided a great staging scene for steep and strenuous aid and gave me another insight into how much room for improvement there was for efficiently standing in my aiders on overhanging terrain trying to reach as high as possible to place small cam after small cam. One upside of this was it gave me plenty long enough to hang around being in awe of this stunning pitch and anyone who had the ability to free climb it, they must be super human!!

(Me just about to enter the thin dihedral of the shadow)

Things got a little exciting at the end of this pitch when I realised to traverse over to the belay would require a blind hook move that was so far to the left of my last piece it required me almost doing the splits to step between my aiders. I was pleased to stick this though and once again reach the bolted belay. Paul even got the chance to practice a real life lower out to second the move too!

After another pitch it was finally the end of my block and time for Paul to take over on the lead. Whilst I had kinda felt pretty bad for Paul and thankful for his patience on the epic belays, I was pleased to have some down time and to switch my brain off a little and refuel whilst on the belay. Paulie's leads were similarly epic with a gnarly start to a 10d that Paul seemed defeated on when he had to pull out the ladders and start aiding. Some more hook moves and a tenuous cam that popped on him were all part of the journey to the belay. As I jummared up to meet him I was greeted with a tired and frustrated Paulie.

As I jummared the 6th pitch I was beginning to feel more comfortable at efficiently tackling the cleaning of traversing terrain. About 5m below the belay as I placed my right jumar above the piece at my chest, set it and stepped on to it I heard a crack and felt myself falling through the air. Thankful to come to a quick stop I immediately looked down at my last back up knot to make sure it wasn't too far away and slowly began to realise what had just happened. My top jumar had popped off the rope. In my complacency I'd been reluctant to clip a 'biner through the top of it, for speed, which would have stopped this from happening. After a few curses I pulled myself together and moved on, lesson learnt!

As we reached the end of pitch 6 it was getting kind of late. We'd been on the route for more than 12 hours (yes pitch 6!) and were both feeling the tiredness and getting frustrated at the lengthiness of the ordeal. Although we kind of knew that going for the push in one day was supposed to be a big day, I think we both secretly hoped it wouldn't take that long. I suppose this was a major lesson in the reality of aid climbing (especially as newbies!). 

Since pitch 7 looked to be a traversey, overgrown nightmare we both decided that, whilst we had factored in the high potential for being on the wall in darkness, it probably wasn't worth being benighted for those last 2 pitches. Thankfully we both agreed that going down from here was a good call.

I was pretty happy with this decision as in all honesty the abseiling-off part of the day was something I was dreading and I was happy to not to have to face that in the dark. Abseiling unknown territory in the darkness is something I've only done a bit of, and while I know it happens a lot and isn't necessarily a big deal, it still adds an uncertainty to your day and a chance for some fuck ups when you're most tired and are vulnerable to mistakes. For that reason I'm never 100% comfortable if it is looming at the end of the day and in this case even more so as we had to get the pig off too - something I'd not done before.

At around 7pm I started leading the abs back down the route and Paulie kindly agreed to bring the pig down with him. The abs were long and steep and it was the first time in a very long time that I actually got the butterflies a little descending in free air hoping to catch up with the rock again at some point.

(The view back down, you can just see the red fixed line at the base of the route in the bottom right hand corner)

We made it back down to the first ledge atop the flake in about four abs I think and I really really wished I had a camera for the last one where I looked up to see Paulie seemingly riding the 'pig' out in space as he descended from the hanging belay at the base of the Shadow. So cooool!!

By the time we had hustled the haul bag off the flake and down to the trail by our bivi it was pretty much dark and unable to find a head-torch between us (we didn't really think that through when packing the night before and stuffing them in the bottom of the haul bag) we headed out through the boulders, weary and unable to see.

Since Paulie had valiantly carried the heavy pig into the route it was my turn to step up and get the thing out. Agile downward maneuvering is not my forte at the best of times especially with what feels like an unwieldy barrel on your back and pitch darkness, so the walkout was testing and time consuming.

Thankfully we made it back to the car in one piece where we set about re-racking and organizing gear and drinking chocolate milk in an attempt to replenish our tired bodies that had survived on a couple of cliff bars and some sweets for the last 15 hours.

The crux of the day was keeping Paulie awake on the drive home whilst fighting my own bodies deep desire to drift off into a coma-like sleep. The next crux over the following week was to convince Paulie of the positives of the experience. I'm not sure how he feels about it now, but being pretty frustrated at how long it took us and the fact that we didn't actually finish the route (despite having reasonably justified reasons to bail!) it was easy to see how we could become pretty defeatist about our efforts.

It's also hard because I feel like I found it much easier to take away some positives from the route. I felt like it had been a great step in our Yosemite training. Despite having practiced steep aid leading, steep aid seconding, belay transitions and hauling a few times previously, this was the first time we had put things all together at the same time in a multipitch route and I wasn't expecting for us to be good, or quick at it. Plus, I had talked to my friend, Squamish's resisdent climbing encyclopedia, the guy I mentioned earlier who had given me the idea to try University Wall as preparation in the first place, and he seemed to have the 'that's just how long this stuff takes' attitude and pleasingly didn't seemed to be too surprised at the epic time we spent on the wall.

I guess only time will tell how well our skills are getting polished and if were drastically lagging behind in our readiness to take on Yosemite's big walls, but one thing I'm certain of was that it was a really worthwhile outing and actually a whole lot of fun (for the most part!).

[jadelittlewood]

Liberty Crack and Washington Pass - TR

Washington Pass climbing had been on my radar since finding a free intro to the Supertopo guide about a year ago whilst researching climbing areas accessible from Vancouver. Paulie brought it closer to my watch when he mentioned attempting Liberty Crack on Liberty Bell and a possible trip to the States over the Canada day long weekend. After purchasing a Cascades guide book which had a small section dedicated to Liberty Bell and reading up on the route I was instantly psyched and given the required aid climbing skills required for sending it we both were stoked at the idea of this challenge in line with preparations for Yosemite.

Paul managed to convince Beth and Dean to join us for the weekend and everybody was getting excited for a team camping/climbing scenario. Dean a strong sport climber, seemed amped for his first 'alpine' experience and we were glad to cajole Beth back out to play in the mountains after being cooped up in Fort Mac, taking care of the construction of an airport all spring. 

Beth and I drove down on Friday night and after surprisingly getting little trouble at the border we treated ourselves to a leisurely dinner and ale in Bellingham's Boundary Bay Brewery (Golden alliteration!). After then missing the Junction to Sedro-Wooley off the I-5 through gossiping too much we realised that our cocky attitude to our quick border crossing may have thwarted our chances at an early arrival to the campsite. We rolled in to the Lone Fir Campground a long way into the dark of the night, to find the boys had already bagged us a nice spot and had been hanging around to share a beer with us for a while. Whiskey and chocolate ensued and by the time we turned in to cosy up in Beth's tiny tent I was reeling with the anticipation of the view of the mountains that lurked behind the starry night we drove in by.

We woke at a leisurely hour of 7am or so. After slowly settling in to breakfast it was decided that a nice leisurely route at 5.7, taking a cool looking ridge line up 'Le petite Cheval' would be a great choice for a later start and a perfect gentle opportunity for Beth to ease back into her comfort zone and Dean to play around in the Mountains.

On the drive up the pass to the parking spot for the route I was blown away by the spectacle of the surrounding Granite spires, such beautiful rock architecture bursting out of the ground with cartoon like hairpin roads dropped in to circumnavigate the structures. The previous nights anticipation was thankfully not met with disappointment.

(The Liberty Bell range)

The start of the route; Spontaneity arete, was hard to find on Le Petite Cheval and after Paul and Beth took off in a different direction to Dean and I on the first pitch I was scared I would have let Dean down as an alpine partner and tainted his view of alpine climbing by fumbling around getting us lost.

(Paul and Beth looking more grumpy than hey were at the 'start' of the route - god knows if this was the actual start!)

Thankfully after some extensive 4th class and lower 5th scrambling we realised this was actually integral to the route and were back on track at a tree belay and slightly more technical terrain. At which point I suggested simul-climbing to make up for any lost time and we quickly spotted Beth's green jacket high on the arete.

(My interpretation of the route topo)

Simul-climbng worked well with Dean and our speedy tactics saw us quickly catching the Denny-McLellan team, only to find out that they had completely gone off-route and had missed most of the quality climbing including some nice, cruisey crack systems that Dean and I had enjoyed moving quickly over. It was a shame for them but I was pleased that it restored some faith in Deans alpine experience with me as a partner. It had been raining on and off all day so we made quick work of the last pitch (which in my opinion was the best - a blocky 5.7 crack) and scrambled over large blocks to tag the summit before making our way out.

(Dean and I on the summit)

(Scrambly terrain just below the summit, spectacular views beyond of Liberty Bell)

Back at camp Dean and I refrained from regaling too many stories about the fun climbing on the route or the rewarding summit view but we learned through other discussions that Beth intended to hit the road on the Monday (the third of the 4 day weekend) and since there was no way Dean was going to be left on his own on the Monday we realised Sunday was going to have to be the day for the attempted ascent of Liberty Crack. This was not ideal given Sundays weather forecast but it had to be. Beth's departure hinged on some work being completed before Monday evening and knowing that Sundays forecast didn't look too promising, we secretly hoped Beth would find some wifi in order to be able to complete the work and allow her to stay and climb with Dean on Monday.

We still prepped for the required alpine start on Sunday anyway and after a sub-par nights sleep, overfilled with adrenaline at the anticipation of the route, we awoke to the sound of heavy rain at around 3.30 am. With an agreed get up time of 4.30am, I piled on, getting things packed in light drizzle hoping things would be dry when we got to the alpine, but with a mind full of doubt. Paulie stumbled out of his tent with a disappointing look on his face to confirm my doubts and agree that the route would not be doable given the rain. It took us a while to accept the conclusion and crawl back into our tents, as with Beth's imminent departure we knew a call-off would probably cost us the route as we would have no reasonable opportunity to get on it that weekend.

Thankfully things turned out perfectly, with another leisurely start - we awoke a few hours later, this time to sunshine and opted to spend the day sport climbing in the nearby village of Mazama. The weather was better out of the pass as we heard that the precipitation continued until the early afternoon around Liberty Bell. The low key day of sport climbing gave Beth the perfect opportunity to slope away from the crag early and get some work done, allowing her to stay and climb the Beckey route with Dean on Monday. Result!!

So at again, at 4.30am the next day Paulie and I headed coldly up the road to the start of the Liberty Bell. Thankfully this time with clear skies. Unsure of what the conditions of the heavily snowed approach would be and after much discussion over strategies, we decided to don the big boots and crampons and take them up the route with us. The other option we were debating was leaving the heavy approach gear at the base of the route and abbing back down the climb. I hadn't read of anyone doing this and had heard abseiling off the top section (where is was more traversey and featured) could be annoying with lots of opportunity for stuck ropes. I was not an advocate for this.

(Morning light just appearing as we set off on a cold, pre-dawn walk in)

Thankfully the uncanny amount of hard snow around made the hike in much quicker with crampons on than it might have been trudging up in approach shoes on the dry scree slopes that are apparently usually encountered later in the season.

(Liberty Bell rises up beyond the tree line on our early morning approach)

In order to give us both our equal share of the first few harder aid pitches, Paulie started us off and went for a free ascent of the 11a first pitch. It was long and thin and with a few sketchy tree pulling moves he got us to the first belay. I belayed from the snowy moat and attempted to refill my 500ml water bottle with clean snow after guzzling most of it just on the approach.

Jumaring with the bag was hard!! The route was steep and with the weight of two peoples winter boots, crampons and warm clothing it made the going very strenuous.

(

(Me jugging with the heavy load!)

Next it was my lead, out of the two crux aid pitches Paulie kindly let me choose and I opted for taking the 'Lithuanian Lip' and airy small roof to pull over. The going was slow but sure and as I clipped a surprisingly good looking piton at the lip and swung out to the edge of the roof in my aiders the view down was incredible. Only a pitch up I could imagine how intimidating it would be to look down from some airy spots on El Cap, a sea of immaculate Granite sweeping below. I reveled in the position for just a split second before getting back to work placing small cams and pulling up on and over to the head-wall above. Unfortunately Paulie informed me as I swung out into the 'money shot' that I had the camera in my pack on my back so we couldn't capture any cool photos.

(Some other dude who isn't me enjoying leading Lithuanian lip, picture just for reference!)

Here the guide book describes 5.7 climbing happening almost immediately after you pull the lip. It might be worth noting that I encountered a good long section of continued aid before hitting the last few metres of unprotected 5.7 free and then hit the belay. Relieved.

Paulies aid Lead next. It turned out to be just as exciting with some of the 'fixed' copper heads blown and he performed some courageous hook moves to be able to Lead on through. Another long and draining pitch.

By the time the first three pitches were done we were almost at midday despite an early start. We weren't too panicked though as we were fully expecting those pitches to take a long time and just hoped that our efficient transitions and the kick back to 5.7-10.a free climbing further up the route would see us pick up some speed.

We had agreed previously that the next 4 or 5 pitches would be Paulies block and he took off at a good pace. The route continued to give us some steep thuggy climbing despite being a more amicable grade and jugging with the pack on in such intense sunshine and over this terrain was beginning to wear me down a little.

At the described 'loose' pitch at around 8 or 7 Pauly had a hard time deciding where the belay stance he was supposed to reach was and ended up bringing me up on a 4 cam deep trad anchor. He was frustrated upon working out that the actual station was a little way above and that for the sake of rope drag we needed to hit that one anyway.

This belay shuffle cost us a little time and it was evident that we were both feeling a little weary. Paulies departing comment of "I'll get us to the proper belay station, then we can have a look at the time and decide what we want to do" made me feel for sure that he was going to suggest going down, especially since we both knew abseiling from above that point would be much more of an ordeal, deciding to continue from there would be a commitment to topping out. Although I wasn't feeling ready to go down, I was definitely feeling tired and my mental strength wasn't feeling too resilient, I knew if he suggested going down I wouldn't be able to carry morale enough for the two of us in order to convince us both it was a good idea to carry on with the time left.

Fortunately as I reached the next belay Paulie had already begun to stack the ropes ready for my lead and without saying anything I took the gear sling and prepped for my block. It was around 3pm and we were 5 pitches to the top. As long as there were no un-forseen complications I was confident we'd hit the top in the light.

Thankfully my pitches went smoothly and the 5.8-5.9 crack systems all began to run into one. The rock felt slick though and after spending half the day jugging with a heavy pack my tired muscles gave reason for the steep climbing to feel burly and unexpectedly tasking for the grade. This started to give me an insight into how it could be possible to move slowly on the nose, I can only imagine how hard freeing 5.8-.9 pitches would feel after days on the wall, with tired and grazed hands - not to mention muscles, let alone 5.10a, in this way the liberty crack experience was a real eye opener.

As I linked the last two, scrambly 5.5 (or so) pitches together and Paulie struggled to second them with pack (chimneying with a pack on as wide as you is hard!) it was evident we had reached the end of the climbing. Some 200 metres or so of 4th class would have taken us to the summit but in the diminishing light we opted out and decided to spend our time more wisely - finding the rap anchors! They were a traverse to the left and down a ways and being further away from the top of the pitch than we thought it took us a little while to find them.

(Views from the top of the route)

We abbed for two rope lengths until we hit a scree bank. As we changed over to our boots and put on some warm jackets it was just about time to be turning on the head torches. We were hoping that like the approach, the descent route off the the back (which is the same for the Beckey route) was going to be filled in with snow so that the walk off was more amicable and straight-forward than the usual bolder field and scree slide. No such luck. The outing was loose and steep and tough going in the dark given our tired state.

I was wearing far too many clothes after feeling the initial chill of the temperature drop with nightfall and once we got moving again I quickly began to over-heat. Too tired and too stubborn to stop and de-layer I quickly began to feel the lack of water that I had drunk that day and de-hydration set in. As we slipped and tripped over hard to see loose rock it became pretty evident the long day was beginning to take its toll on the both of us.

A wrong idea about following the left siding of the gulley to stick to less loose terrain saw us having to back track up hill for 15mins or so and really tested our patience. I was becoming really thirsty and the idea of water was all that was driving my legs one infront of the other.

It was pretty hard to see the way by head torch and as we reached further and further depths of the gulley and branched out into the base of the mountain we knew the climbers path that gives the approach to the Beckey route would be coming up to our right. Finding the mouth of it would be another thing though. I was happy to follow Paulies lead with some hope that he'd remember something from approaching that way before. Sure enough after battling through trees and over boulders, as if by magic, we seemed to stumble across the path. In silence we trudged this easy switch back after switchback until after what felt like eternity we reached the road.

With the fun not over yet we had to pound up the road for - god knows how long - until we reached the car. In my head somewhere the figure of time was between 20mins and half an hour and whilst I could almost smell the litre of water I had in the back of Paulies car, on the other hand it felt forever away too. Happily after about 15mins of walking and a couple of failed attempts at hitching we crashed in the layby beside Paulies wheels, sooner than I'd anticipated. As I dumped my pack and lay on the ground Paulie unlocked the doors and pulled out a bottle of Whiskey from behind the back seat. With barely enough energy to hold myself in a sitting position we both smiled, sprawled out on the tarmac drinking a dram in celebration. We couldnt wallow in our success to much though, we had to make it back to the campsite where we knew Dean would be waiting anxiously. We had calculated that if we were to top out safely in the light then we should be home no later than midnight at the absolute outside, since that would have give us two hours - ample time - to walk out. Dean decided this was his cut off and he would start to get seriously worried or make some decisios about calling for help at this point.

We rolled into camp after the ten minute drive at 11.57pm to thankfully see Dean doing a little celebratory dance that we were still alive and back in one peice. We were pretty happy about it too but preceded to tell him that things actually went much more smoothly that the late return time might have suggested, it was just a looong day and a loong descent given the lack of daylight.

So that was it. Chuffed to have completed such a notouriously challenging route and to also complete it in a day, albeit an 18 hour day, felt pretty incredible.It also felt like a small but non the less significant milestone in our 'road to the nose' training. Pulling of some aid moves in a long day and getting time in Jumars and etriers.

After a leisurely day at the campsite basking in the sun an sorting some gear for me, we headed back up the road to Vancouver to feel fulfillingly exhausted back in work on Wednesday, awaiting the next adventure......

[jadelittlewood]

Aid-climbing, exams and injuries

Upon checking the date of my last post I just realized that it was March since I last wrote. When I first started this blog, in the middle of my Part 3, my worry was that I wouldn't be doing anything fun enough/often enough to keep the blog alive. Now I appear to have the opposite problem. I have been far too busy doing fun things to have enough time to sit down and write about them. This is obviously not a complaint, its just that given I can turn a long days adventure into a healthy sized blog post it will require some hard work on my part to be concise about whats been going on over the last couple of months. Here goes my effort.

Firstly I should start by saying that I did get out and have a really fun day of climbing that day back in March that I mentioned in my last blog when discussing the worth of gambling with the weather. And the day before that, the day I sat and wrote the blog, was probably the last day I had a considerable amount of time (at least a full morning or afternoon) at home in the city to sit down in front of my computer and write.

Mostly the weather has been pretty compliant and allowed for a consistent amount of getting out on rock. The season felt like it was  kick started properly (outwith the trickles of fun but inconsistent days squeezed in throughout the end of winter and shoulder season) when the sun gods rained down on Squamish for a whole weekend and Pauly and I took the opportunity to head up to Murrin on Friday night and camp over in the Chief campsite for the whole weekend. With our beds only an hour or so away in Vancouver this is a rare but fun endeavor. The weekend was a great start to getting psyched for Squamish climbing with a mixed bag of Friday evening sport at Pet wall, attempting routes way too hard for me at Quercus on Saturday with the crag developer herself on hand as a trusty rope gun and getting inspired by strong people trying really hard despite my own comparatively flailing attempts. Sunday saw more of our Vancouver crew join us for a relaxed day trying to find available routes in the smoke bluffs. I happily took the rope gun roll myself (if its justifiable to self-proclaim oneself a 'rope-gun' on 10 minus?? Yeah I thought not) and enjoyed a mixed bag of off the beaten track 'bluffs' routes. A yet to fail mixture of good people, good climbing and general Squamish campground antics of beer drinking and chilling in the howe sound brew pub allowed for a fantastic weekend.

(10c thin slab start variation - I fell off! - to a 5.8/9 crack climb at tunnel rock, a slight smoke bluffs backwater but fun climbing away from the crowds non the less)

Next unfortunately came my LEED exam. As part of my new job with PW and their admirable commitment to sustainability I am contracted to become a LEED Approved Person (AP) within a year of employment. LEED is a rating system that recognizes standards of green building and in my opinion is a very useful process for dragging the construction industry toward a goal of using resources more sustainably and becoming more environmentally responsible. I feel lucky that PW back the system so proactively.

The first step before attaining my AP though is a simpler but still time demanding exam called the GA. Whilst I am in favor of backing the push toward sustainability I use the adjective 'unfortunately' at the start of this paragraph because, lets face it, sitting in to study for an exam kind of clashes with the other side of my outdoor adventure seeking life in a big way. Although I only dedicated a few weekend days and a couple of mid week evenings (for nearly a month) to be able to pass this exam, it definitely felt enough of a burden to feel like I had been set free into the sunshine the month of May brought along when I had finished and passed.

(LEED construction monkeys!)

Thankfully I got to celebrate this new found freedom with an imminent sport climbing trip to Skaha over the long weekend. With a half-hearted commitment to doing more early season sport as a means of pushing my climbing early on, I was trying some new training techniques down the wall to prepare, in and among studying. This was helped along with a healthy training psyche and knowledge injection from Duncan and he encouraged me to build some power endurance on the campus board whilst working my weaknesses on the systems board.

(The location of the Skaha bluffs, about a 4-5hr drive from Vancouver, in the desert setting of the Okanagan, BC)

Unfortunately my stupidly tight muscles and poor posture prevail in my form when trying to train, despite Colleen trying to 'fix' me with some superb physio knowledge, This left me going to Skaha feeling like a broken woman from over training and I was hunched with neck and back pain and niggling finger injuries.

Nevertheless Skaha was a fun time and I think the biggest positive I can take from it is that I got back into the rhythm of being comfortable taking falls and giving things a good hard go, despite feeling a little deflated that my conceived efforts through 'training' and pushing it were thwarted by injury and this didn't result in as much success as I'd hoped. It was also awesome due to the great times I had kicking about with the humorous duo of Lenny and Tyler and getting to stay in the secret shack that Tyler had keys to (which meant we could avoid the madness of staying at the Banbury campsite). This brought along some added antics involving trying to fix the shacks plumbing as it presented a new problem to solve each day, requiring yet another trip to Canadian-Tire for plumbing supplies pre and post crag - good banter. We never did get a hot shower though and returned to Vancouver after 4days of dirt-bagging....a fragrant bunch!

(Len unimpressed at discovering why the water tank was not able to hold water!)

( I couldn't contribute much to the plumbing but my fire building skills were deemed a hit as everyone was keen to warm up the cold shack before bed)

Since returning from Skaha and pushing on through in the indoor gym I realised my finger niggle had developed into something more debilitating and I laid off the training immediately, unable to pull on anything hard, including jugs since my finger appeared to be tender to pressure of any kind!

I've had a few niggling finger injuries over the past 6-8months and despite this I don't get any better at dealing with them. Let's face it, its pretty hard to not get down when you aren't able to go and do the things you love to the best of your abilities because of injury and I was definitely feeling a little down-beat about this. Especially since I was, at one point, making a concerted effort to do relevant stretches, massage techniques and adjustments to my everyday posture in a hope to loosen my overly tight muscles and gain a better form when training hard and ultimately, prevent injury. 

Thankfully Duncan's relatively recent arrival (late March) in Vancouver brought a new burst of mountain biking psyche back into my life. And even more thankfully you can still fling yourself down trails on two wheels with a bust finger. Duncan's frustration at his un-cooperative days off induced him to buy a van and suggest some squeezed in adventures (sometimes the best kind!) between finishing work on a Friday late afternoon and starting on Saturday mid morning.

(MPV's are wasted on the school run! We piled the bikes, climbing and caming gear into the back at Taylor way and hit the road)

On our first outing in the 'soccer mum Van' I met Duncan after work at Taylor Way where obviously the weather turned immediately from glorious sunshine to pish-down rain within minutes of us both leaving our respective workplaces! We felt like the cats that had the cream though when the sun came out again long enough to let a handful of routes in Murrin Park and the Smoke-bluffs to be climbed. This gave Duncan his first taste of Squamish granite and crack for that matter and me the chance to lead some nice accessible routes that would probably otherwise be too busy to get on. It also gave opportunity to realise my finger was up to climbing again, even if it was moderate trad, I was happy enough with that!

(Racking up for a couple of routes at 'Bog Wall' a small wee car-park crag at Murrin, worthwhile enough between rain showers for sure!)

After a successful climbing evening we kipped overnight in the Van and woke early to bag the infamous 'Half-Nelson' trail on the mtb's before most folk had eaten breakfast! By far my favorite trail in BC so far and all before Duncan returned to North Van to see out a shift in the bike shop. Great mini adventure! 

For me the weekend had just started too as instead of heading back to the city with Duncan I met Pauly in Squamish for a day of kick starting our aid-affair. Psyched for making some big walling in the Valley (Yosemite) happen at the end of the season we decided we had better start getting in some practice. After 'warming-up' on a nice short route at Spiderfly crag in the bluffs trying to work out which end of the Ascenders you put on the rope again, we decided to graduate to the big time - zombie roof!

Since Pauly had aided it before, I went for the 'on-sight' on lead and he followed on the Jumars. It was an ordeal to say the least!! I was incredibly slow and pretty intimidated swinging around in my aiders below the huge roof and turning it was a whole other matter of difficulty! But it was a great experience of problem solving non-the-less and thankfully only seemed to wet our appetite for improving and becoming quicker and more efficient. To be fair though, we both agreed that it would be hard not to better our speed ascent record of 3.5hours (2 hours on lead for me and 1.5hrs for Pauly to clean it!)....we'll be back!

(unfortunately in all the time we had we didn't get any photos of us aiding the Zombie, but here is a much cooler picture of someone freeclimbing it in much drier conditions than when we got on it, gives quite a good indication of how horizontal and colossal the route is though)

Keen to continue our practice as a big-walling team; Pauly and I hit up Leavenworth for the long weekend. I had never been before and was intrigued to climb in a new place over the border on new rock, but even more intrigued to find out what this little American town, whose economy is derived from making an incredibly kitsch simulacrum to a psuedo Bavarian ski-town was going to be like. I can report that Sausage and Laderhosen were a hit, if a little bizarre and Leavenworth is a must for any Vancouver based rock climber.

(Leavenworth in all its Bavarian kitsch glory!)

Continuing with the theme of honing skills as a big-wall team Pauly and I were pretty psyched for getting in a long day of multi-pitching whilst we were down in the states; to get the change over efficiency dialed and practice leading in blocks. We headed to snow creek wall with the ambition doing 2 routes (both of which were about 4-6 pitches long). I started us off on Orbit, the supposed classic 5.8 of the crag with the idea that I would lead the whole route (as a 'block') fixing each pitch so that Pauly could jug the line to clean it for practice. All was going swimmingly until some route finding issues on pitch 4 made progress slow and disconcerting. The route ended up having a couple of extra pitches to it not described in the guide but was all-in-all a thoroughly enjoyable outing. If you go to do this route just know that as you turn the corner on pitch four (supposedly the last pitch) to see what was a slightly confusing 80m sea of rock in-front of you, keep going it is the right way despite the guide book's ambiguity!

(The backside of snow creek wall seen from the Valley)

Suffice to say the extra time taken to do what should have been a reasonably straight forward route thwarted our ideas of getting in a second long route of the day. We still deemed the outing incredibly successful though as we both learned a lot and above this there was some great climbing on Orbit, just be aware that its challenges, as with most alpine-feel climbing, are not the climbing moves but the decision making and route finding that come with it!

Unfortunately the Leavenworth trip had a sad end to it with me picking up yet another injury - my foot popped on a polished hold whilst I had an awkward yet bomber thumbs down hand-jam in above my head and this held taking all my wait through my elbow. If the pain wasn't enough of an indicator that I'd done something damaging the crunching noise definitely gave it away.

The week following Leavenworth was an incredibly busy work week and also my birthday. Therefore fortunately I didn't have much time for adventurous activities and having an elbow injury wasn't as obviously frustrating as it may have been. It was however quite hard to fully extend the joint and painful to contract again which made drinking beer a little challenging but in birthday spirits I managed to push on through.

Following an entertainingly late Friday-night birthday bbq celebration I had ambitiously agreed to meet Pauly the next morning and head to Squamish to get some more aid practice in. As I careened through the smoke bluff trails sustaining a high blood alcohol content and somehow managing to supress the need to spew I was quitely impressed at our dedication to practicing big walling and actually really enjoyed leading a few pitches of aid - albeit pretty slowly. Although the speed is not increasing too noticebly yet, I have already noticed both Pauly and I becoming much more comfortable and used to being in aid mode which is encouraging - I think I may have found my new hangover cure!

(Pauly aiding a pretty damp 'Elephantitis' in the smoke bluffs the day after my biirthday celebrations)

So now with a slowly healing elbow and ever niggling fingers I'm pushing on with the climbing season with slightly different focus. My projects aren't going anywhere and whilst the desire to go and climb as hard as I can is still burning I am managing to survive on getting out lots on easier multi-pitch (as hard as my elbow will endure) technical slab pitches and progressing with aid practice. In an attempt to convince myself that I'm not too disappointed about having yet another injury, I'll end by saying its probably a good thing to have to take a step sideways (backwards would be too negative?), re-evaluate some training and form techniques and hit the Valley and El-Cap preparations hard! 

[jadelittlewood]

Playing the weather game

When you live in a place where weather conditions can be variable or unpredictable I think its really important not to underestimate the skill and experience it takes to make good decisions based upon the weather and the extent of fun you can personally have in what conditions. This not only requires you to know a little about what's doable in what weather, but it also requires you to know yourself and what your prepared to sacrifice for a day that might not turn out too great due to the weather.

A few things of late have sparked the subject of this blog, some of which include evaluating the worth of ski trips to the local mountain this season in below average snow conditions but also the usual challenge in trying to squeeze out valuable climbing days during the winter months in a temperate and typically rainy climate.

When I lived in the UK and was pretty fresh to trad climbing regularly I was really bad at gauging if the weather forecast was going to make it worthwhile to get out climbing or not. I remember a very frustrating period where it felt like I spent a lot of time sacrificing other interests and plans trying to go climbing but not actually managing to climb anything because of the weather. I couldn't understand how I wasn't managing to get any climbing in when I was always so psyched. But what - for me - was worse was that although I had a great deal of psyche for climbing and would happily sacrifice many things to go climbing, I wasn't as prepared to let down friends, miss out on other plans or mitigate my sleep needs to sit in the car at the crag car park watching the rain pour down. I'd much rather have had a good night at the pub the night before and be watching the rain come down from my hungover state inside the warm house, or be down the wall making the most of the time to train, or drinking tea, or doing laundry, or whatever, but wasting time being rained off so often quickly became pretty demotivating and I felt pretty frustrated which reflected on my psyche.

(A frustratingly familiar scenario!)

Someone was told me that it was something you got better at - deciding if it was worth going climbing or not. At the time I thought this was Bullshit, 'how can you get good at this' I thought - 'there's nothing to get good at - surely it's just luck based? If it rains on your days off it sucks and you cant go climbing?? And if you don't try when it looks like it might rain but you're not certain, well then surely you're just not psyched enough are you?? And I was psyched alright.

Now I've spent too many days in the crag cafe after it pissed it down halfway through the warm up route lamenting about how unlucky I had been and that 'it was soo dry and crisp (perfect climbing weather!) the other day' when I had happened to have plans to go to a music festival with friends or was visiting family, to know a little better...Thankfully.

So although - if your anything like me - (a headstrong non-believer who wants to find out everything for themselves - mostly the hard way but often the only way) -  you wont listen anyway, BUT, I wanted to write this blog to let anyone who feels as frustrated as me playing the weather game that it is something you can learn with experience and it does get better!

Moving to BC has definitely helped in my strategy for playing the weather game, for a few reasons: 1) I don't care what anybody says when they are moaning about the rain on the West Coast, the weather is still more predictable than the UK. 2) Even when the weather is 'bad' there is still more fun shit to be done.3) I've become inherently more selfish, one dimensional and down right boring and I don't really care*! haha - I mean christ! Its a saturday night and I'm sat in finishing off a blog about how to make the most of the weather, rock and effing roll!! But this makes it easier to feel less jilted when the weather fucks you over.

*Note: The third tactic is not necessarily encouraged as I am fully aware that this is probably a grave detriment to my character and long term happiness not to mention a huge addition to the reason that I'm currently still single and my beloved family and close friends are millions of miles away. However after consistently being let down in other relationships of all kinds by friends and family (Note inside note: DEFINATELY not all) shamelessly pursuing their selfish endeavors and shrugging off my willingness to sacrifice and benevolent efforts almost as stupidity (a sort of 'more fool you' attitude!) I decided that instead of growing old and bitter about it I would step up and play their game of every man for themselves - hell it seemed to work for them - why the hell was I left to be the one compromising and suffering. And as a short term consequence life is much more straight forward when your one dimensional and I'm ecstatically happy. I'll worry about the other stuff when I'm old and lonely!!

An example of reason #2, in the winter in Vancouver its generally pretty wet and cold and that pretty much puts the brakes on regular trips to Squamish or any other local rock for that matter. Whilst that is sad and fairly confusing for most of us (also one dimensional) climbers it only needs to be below about 6 degrees in the city for that rain to be forming as snow on the local mountains and even less for some of the still accessible higher peaks around (Whistler, anything in the Coq', my list could go on and on!)

So learning to ski this year has not only been awesome fun but time well invested in what will hopefully be a future for me in maintaining fun and adventure through the winter months whilst living in BC.

(Good Paul playing the 'Air-ski' after bailing in good spirits in some unusually deep pow one very fun evening on Cypress)

My last blog discussed the psyche I had for getting into touring more and hoping for some decent snow in a fairly dry ski-season. Since then I sealed the deal on a second hand pair of BD Starlets, some sweet, lightweight ski's already equipped with my preferred Dynafit tech binding - good to go! Although, after having yet another hard time on a steep learning curve on an icy trip to Manning Park on family-day long weekend I conceded that I needed to get some proper mileage in on the downhill to be able to improve enough to tackle some of the technical terrain I was encountering touring. Because of the North shore's dry spell it meant that conditions were less and less likely to be good enough to see me on more challenging terrain and the more I improved the more I was craving that extra push. Hitting Cypress up most Wednesday evenings with Tom and crew was certainly super worthwhile in the early stages to give me the exposure I needed to get to grips with the basics but with little coverage off piste on most trips it just wasn't enough any more. I started playing the weather game.

Whistler started getting better snow and better conditions and since my new AT skis had survived their first resort trip on a crazy Friday night with team shred at Cypress (despite me forgetting to close Tom's ski rack and them falling off the roof and then Tom driving off without all of the passengers in the car - it was a yard sale type of night!) I decided they could handle some more resort exposure to get me familiar with skiing them on Whistler.

Since then Ive now put about five days in up at Whistler and had an absolute ball. From Riding mileage groomers and off piste trees with some great peeps in tough low-vis conditions to getting a guaranteed 'push' on my level of skiing trying to keep up with Rosie as she drags me to all the sweetest spots on the mountain - like having my own guide - thanks Rosie!!

A great weekend recently with a fun bunch of ladies saw Rosie and I ride the lower mountain and hit up some fun trees in poor visibility and warm/wet conditions on the Saturday and then take my first run off Spankys into Ruby Bowl in sweet bluebird spring-like conditions on the Sunday. Not to mention a theraputic hot-tub session with cold beer to congratulate ourselves on making a successful ski day out of the less than ideal conditions on the Saturday.

(Rosie finishing up in fun moguls after shredding through Ruby Bowl in beautiful blue skies, this photo does not do it justice!)

With all this surprisingly dry weather there has also been a pleasingly good amount of bonus winter climbing days too. Pauly and I had a successful day trad climbing in the Bluffs on the Saturday of Family day long weekend (before the 2-day ski trip started) when he finally sent 'Yorkshire Gripper' and I was pleased to only take one fall on my quick burn on it on TR - it is now on the radar as something I could work (especially since it is so aptly named!) Thanks for the inspiration Pauly! We then went on to finish off 'The Smoke Bluff connection' which Emily and I had started back in the summer and gotten rained off on the second pitch. Pauly kindly took the first two leads allowing me to have 'Jabberwocky' and the wicked rising traverse on 'Wonderland' as mine since I'd not done them before. A highly successful and beautifully sunny day for a -1 / 0 degree temps rating.

Emilsa, Sue, her two awesome dogs and I also managed to get a cheeky day of bouldering in a couple weeks back when the weather looked too overcast to be warm enough for some Pet'-wall sport projecting. This was one of those days that could have gone either way with the weather. It wasn't supposed to be particularly sunny (which would warm and dry what can be miserably damp and cold rock in the winter) and it was forecast to snow in the afternoon. Though thankfully I can always rely on Em to have high psyche to go in for these risky days. I didn't play the weather game by the rules I set for myself this time but since I felt like I had been pretty good at making good decisions based on activity and conditions of late I decided that if the day was unsuccessful my motivation level could take it and it was worth the risk. To our delight it paid off and despite it being a fairly easy going/ chilled sesh some sending (of American Gigilo for me) happened! As a bonus we took a stroll up around the base of the grand wall and I got super amped for a season of sending sweet granite routes! After a good nights sleep I got up the next morning bright and early for a day of skiing in Whistler. Cant argue with another weekend like that!

(Em giving it some on 'Bobo Jones' of the Black Dyke area Grand Wall boulders)

Len revealing his inner mogul ninja on another great day skiing in Whistler)

Of late as the nights are getting lighter, the sun is shining just that bit more and the weather is getting slightly warmer I am becoming less psyched for skiing proportionate to the more likely it seems that climbing will happen. Don't get me wrong the ski- season has been brilliant fun and I've learnt soo so much, but its never going to be climbing! And I've said before that its going to be hard for me to see Skiing (awesome as it is) as anything but a bridge between the gap in the start and end of the climbing season. I'm not fooled by the fact that regular and consistent climbing in Squamish is still a while off and Skiing will still be on my radar for a little time yet, but I am noticing a shift in my motivations already.

So as a finishing note, while another shoulder season is upon us, I can forsee my trusted mountain bike coming into its own again. I cant lament enough how good getting into mountain biking has been for low-input ( and risk) high output type 1 fun! A prime example was today. A fairly wet, cloudy, miserable day in Vancouver turned into a low key, low organisiation highly fun day riding the Fromme trails with Nat on the NS.

After a casual start of 11am allowing for a night on the beers last night and still enough sleep to feel reasonably fresh, not to mention a lazy coffee and breakfast at little mountain before jumping in the NatScho mobile and collecting a sweet demo bike from Different Bikes (thanks Duncan!!) on the way, Nat and I arrived at the snowy trailhead around 1pm. That time allowed for some excessive faffage and managing to get a little lost too. We still got a good couple of hours in riding the likes of the bermy and flowy and utterly fun 'Bobsled' a couple times, before turning the gnarly dial up a notch and hitting up floppy bunny for a couple of burns and then riding out Griffen back to the car. A fun but chilled day, home in time to get a good feed in - Jamica style - at the 'reef' back in the city and still have the evening to myself! Although it took a bit of persuading to reassure Nat that the trails wouldn't be too sketch in the wet snow I feel like I now have a convert to rainy day riding for when climbing just isn't a goer. We both agreed that the skiing would probably not have been great conditions and both feeling in need of a bit of time at the either end of our days we were stoked that riding the trails was the best use of the day!

(Nat and I tearing up Fromme in the snow!)

It feels somewhat ironic that I am finishing off this blog tonight, aimed at encouraging over psyched young climbers like my former self to just 'say no' when the weather is crap as a trade off for keeping frustration levels at a minimum and doing other fun stuff -  whilst my bags are packed for a day of cragging tomorrow with some doubts surrounding the weather coming from other members in the team. Its been pretty wet today and with a slightly overcast forecast for tomorrow there is some worry that things won't be dry. I'm advocating for going still obviously and think that as long as we choose our crag wisely something will for sure get done, but I wont lie and say that it hasn't injected a small amount of doubt into my mind too, possibly along with a little guilt that I may be leading my friends towards a wasted day, but the good thing about being generally better at playing the weather game is that I think you can afford to be a little risky sometimes. Its going to be a bit of an anomaly in my experience if everything we were hoping to do tomorrow is too wet to get on and if it is, well I'll feel happier that we tried than if we sacked it off and went to Coquitlam to pull on some plastic only to hear stories during the following week from more committed individuals of epic success on the granite that day!

On that note I shall leave you awaiting the outcome of my risky game tactics....until next time!

[jadelittlewood]

'Shready for the Skison'

I have been pretty much 'Shreddy for the Skison' since early November - when yet again my levels of psyche overpowered my destitution-avoidance tactics and I forked out $250 (which despite being an awesomely sweet deal was not a totally insignificant amount in my then minimum wage job) for a full set up of second-hand Alpine skiing equipment and another even larger chunk of my terrible wage for a Cypress mountain lift pass.

This was in-fact, before I had even heard the ironic use of the term 'Shreddy for the Skison', which - to offer an explanation to those not au-fait with the language of snow-sport enthusiasts (often in their teenage years I imagine - with thick North American accents) is a clever use of pun's to proclaim how excited and prepared one is becoming for the on-set of the winter season, in which one can partake in skiing or snowboarding.

If you are unfamiliar with the term shredding then Mogul Mick can help you out. If you need to be familiarized with what skiing is then I suggest you stop reading now for fear of ultimate boredom and only if you feel you can bring yourself to look at my overly ecstatically happy face anymore should you even stick around to scroll quickly through the photos!   

Since learning to snowboard the last time I lived in BC I have been convinced of snow-sports being the funnest way to bridge the gap between the climbing seasons start and end (significantly more in the realm of type-1 fun than freezing my ass off on grim belay stances attempting to mixed climb in Scotland), however my insatiable appetite for mountainous adventures and back-country exploring lead me to reconsider my mode of transport and got me sucked into the idea of ski-touring and ski-mountaineering.

Ski-touring and mountaineering are admittedly the long game - learning to actually ski - the more immediate agenda. I had already accepted that this 'skison' was going to be dedicated mostly to groomed runs, chairlifts, bruises and many, many bails, but with an abundance of psyched and experienced new friends I had hoped I could spend a few days with my heel unlocked in (probably rented) Alpine touring bindings and skin clad skis heading up a mountain and fulfiling my Alpine Touring desires.

So I did what any sensible and skint-assed mountain enthusiast would do and headed to sports junkies to get myself an ex-rental, beater set of cheap Alpine downhill skis to learn on - all set with bundles of psyche to hit the mountain with when the snow fell. I waited. And waited. I'm still waiting!!!

(My 'learning to ski' beater set up, 156cm Vokkl and an old school pair of head boots that are 2 mondo sizes too small because I'm stoopid and I tried to fit them like climbing shoes in the shop - 'the tighter the better right'? I'm starting to loose a toe-nail)

Unfortunately despite some huge feats of optimism even for me I now have to concede that this season seems to have been pretty freaking awful in terms of snow conditions so far. No wet stuff is falling out of the sky even in the city that can be converted into the fluffy white stuff that dreams are made of up in them there mountains. And trust me, as a climber there ain't many times you pray for rain (well apart from maybe when a strong peer suggests you go try a route that is too hard for you and stupidly you say yes knowing full-well its way beyond your capabilities, if it only rained you could use that as a handy excuse and not have to admit that you are scared as a rabbit in a fox-hole and weak as a kitten, not that I've done that - Just sayin'!)

Thankfully despite there being naff all snow though I had the stupidity to be psyched enough to get out anyway and gratefully Tom S and his similar levels of keenness encouraged me to hit the icy and sparsly covered slopes of Cypress. Thanks to some of his top-tips and in-quantifiable amounts of patience I was scraping my way down crusted blue runs in no-time (maybe not with a shed-load of elegance) but certainly without face-planting at every attempted turn.

(Night Skiing with Tom on Cypress)

Some snow-machine-generated fake snow saw me able to convince Colleen B to join me on the mountain a couple of times and even helped to rally troops, despite the poverty of open runs, to get involved in a Christmas day jaunt up the local mountain. The mileage accrued in these few trips along with a few continued night skiing sessions in the new year certainly got me started on the whole learn to ski mission but until it snows some more and the conditions improve - or more runs open on the mountain, I am ashamed to say that even I am running on empty in the psyche department for getting out on piste. This is a shame as having a pass to a mountain so local was my stab at a sure fire way to accrue enough mileage to keep improving.

(A Christmas morning jaunt up Cypress even found Santa at the top of the mountain)

On the up-side, the burning desire inside me to find a way to get out touring in the mountains and seek out the pow' (pftt!) as soon as possible just got a gallon of fuel dumped on it. This was timed well with landing a pair of Scarpa Gea AT boots on a pro-deal price. As well as the levels of in-experience its the cost of getting set up with AT gear that forms a barrier to most folk so I saw an opportunity to start the ball rolling and maxed out my credit card with prodeals before leaving the shop job at Alpine Start. So far the boots are awesome!

(My new AT boots, Scarpa Gea's)

A happily recent string of of adventures in the back country started with another dose of Tom Shroeder's awesome patience and selflessness by introducing a gang of newb's to the meaning of 'Alpine touring' via a Paul ridge trip with some beacon practice thrown in for good measure.

A 'brief' (as if I'm capabable!) Red heather/ Paul ridge TR

Colleen and I rented AT skis, skins and Avi safety stuff from MEC and got excited to join Boyle, TLT and Tom super early in the morning to get out in some otherwise dicey avalanche conditions for a cruisy tour up to the Red Heather hut above Squamish. Having never used a beacon before, or put on skins, or fathomed my way around touring bindings, everything seemed very new and exciting and I learned a lot from Boyle and Tom who I owe a lot to for spending the time to share their wealth of knowledge.

The skin up was fun and despite feeling strange with just my toe plugged into the binding, it wasn't quite as taxingly inefficient or awkward as I'd prepared myself for it to feel.

(Cruising up the beautiful climb to Red Heather)

After reaching the hut within about 1hr 30 - 2hrs we enjoyed a few gulps of hot chocolate and some tasty treats packed in with a plethora of other skiers and snowboarders who it seemed had the same ideas for avoiding potential avalanche terrain and getting some skiing in. 

Shortly after Tom proceeded to indulge us in an avalanche refresher which was super useful and we had fun tracking down Boyle via his beacon.

(Digging pits and testing the snow pack)

Skiing on the G3 cakes I'd borrowed that were fat underfoot compared to my own skinny Vokkl's felt different to maneuver for sure, but I was glad of the extra float as the days snow conditions actually turned out to be deep and sloppy. With no experience in powder it was still an effort to say up sometimes and I found myself with an apparently hillarious problem at one point when I naively took of both skis at once to de-skin and found myself waist deep in wet snow unable to return to the lofty position a-top my skis. Luckily my climbing skills came into play and I approached the problem like a mantle shelf!

(Waist deep in Pow - not in a good way!)

The day ended well with a relatively cruisy ski out after a few laps under Paul ridge to find the car burried under 15cm of fresh snow.

Nachos and pints all round in the brew-pub to celebrate a successful first day of touring!

Zupjok peak trip in the Coquihalla

Pleased with how successfully the Paul ridge trip had gone I lamented to Tom in the pub that night how keen I was to join in on whatever touring trips he was planning that he thought I'd be capable of doing without holding people up too much. I was then pleased but kinda nervous to be invited along to a Coquihalla trip the next week with a group of people who were considerably more advanced skiers.

As we set off with Alpaca peak in mind it was soon evident that this trip was a step up from red Heather with some dense trees to navigate in icy snow. I could no longer get by just on shear determination and general good levels of fitness alone, not even on the up. As the skin tracks dissolved and the post-holes emerged it became evident that the subtle weighting of ones skies to make the skins stick efficiently needed some work on my part. Although I was pretty damn slow as I flailed between the trees and often slid back down hard ice to either land on my arse or bang into a tree I was determined and still having fun learning new skills and challenging myself. I was yet again bowled over and eternally grateful to the patience of the people I was with, particularly Allyson and Katie on the skin up who kindly waited without fuss as I grappled with the pines and played to my strengths digging in with my poles to eventually teeter totter up to where they waited. The shower of good advice and willingness to help me learn from these people has caused me to reflect on my own, comparitively selfish endevours in climbing. 

The battle was worth it as when we topped out on Zupjok peak (the first along the ridge towards Alpaca) as the views were just stunning on such a bluebird day. As the afternoon drew in fast we opted for a little more time messing around in the sun at the peak, taking some daft photo's and partaking in silly races rather than killing ourselves (or atleast me!) to get over to Alpaca peak and then ski-out (it did look like a really cool ridge to ski though)

(Arsing around at Zupjok taking in the views and vitamin D)

The ski out was fun and again gave me a limited chance to test out my abilities on a longer fatter ski. Faced with what would have comparatively been my first black run I nervously side slipped the crusty steep slope and traversed the easier terrain until I was gee'd on by my co-skiers to 'give-'er' and try to put a few proper turns in. I happily linked a few before bailing head first on my back directly downwards and picked up speed for a few metres before digging my feet in and gathereing my popped skis. I went again and again linked a few turns.

Although my attempt on this section was abhorrent in comparison to the rest of the teams display of mad-skills, I was pleased for a number of reasons. 1) Getting the chance to fail at something really hard for you is a sure fire way to improve more quickly. 2) It wasn't elegant but I did link a few turns 3) Even this short section of (apparently quite crappy) snow was so awesome to me that despite my struggles it gave me reason to get really inspired and motivated to get better at skiing so I could take advantage of slopes like that in the future.

(Katie demonstrating some mad skills on the ski out)

The rest of the ski-out became a real tree-weaving battle for me and a few misguided turns lengthened the process. As the day drew in and the head-torches came out I was feeling pretty exhausted and quite dehydrated. I fought not to get annoyed and frustrated in my tiredness and even once on the easy ski tracks of the road out the last hour became a real test to hold it together.

Making it to the car and a flask of water felt such a treat and I smiled as we all got our shit together in the parking lot with Johnny Cash blaring out of Tom's CRV before hitting the Greek restaurant in Hope and sinking a few beers whilst catching the end of the Seahawks game.

In the reflections and discussions that emerged at the pub at the end of a days adventuring I was sated to hear that others found the stuff on the up similarly tough too and the general consensus was that the day had been satisfyingly long and tiring. I discovered a flattering comment made about myself and the lack of my skiing abilities (I know it sounds paradoxical but wait!...) when someone concernedly asked how I'd get on on the trip with my in-experience: "it'll be survival skiing for sure, but she's a survivor". I feel awkwardly compelled to mention this; awkward because there's a high chance this will be misconstrued as me jumping at the opportunity to do some ego stroking, compelled, because it reflects a motto I guess I subconsciously try to live by and also respect and encourage others who do too. Its not about being good but it is about giving it a good effort despite not being immediately good. Thus it makes me much happier to be noted for a success through a fighting attitude - for putting in an effort and trying than it does if someone were simply to notice that I were good at something. I hope I can continue to live by this and meet more lovely people like the ones who looked out for me and helped me to 'survive' that day too.

Mount Baker Burns night January TR

Some newer friends of mine, Colleen and Will kindly invited me to join them and a group of other great people to stay in a Cabin they had booked down near Mount Baker in Washington state. I was super excited about this trip as I had not skied Baker before and I was hoping the weekend would help to top up some mileage on piste I'd not really been getting in Canada.It was also suggested that we would be able to get out for a tour in the backcountry one of the days and I was eager to keep skiing new terrain and keep getting out touring. Above this I was looking forward to hanging out in a cosy cabin with good people, eating haggis and drinking Whiskey.

Unfortunately the inversion the West coast had been trapped in for so long, which was keeping back the snow persevered and the conditions weren't set to be any better than the local Mountains as I'd hoped.

It seems I am becoming some what of a regular at the MEC rentals counter and despite a particulary late enquiry I managed to bag the last pair of touring skis in my size range at a hefty 110 underfoot and 168cm length. This was a lot of ski for what turned out to be pretty sparse snow conditions!

However after a Friday night filled with frenzied travel plans (Thanks Beth for ferrying me around in matey as always!) surreal border guards, hoards of American gas station junk food, tasty tacos and high whiskey and ale consumption as usual it was suggested that a late start tour would be the best suggestion for Saturday.

We awoke to a bluebird day and porridge ready in the rice cooker (best idea ever!). Unfortunately the luscious clear skies held compromise to there being any new snow for about a week and as we donned our planks (really glad at this point I had rented massive powder skis!Naaat!!) it was pretty evident how thin the conditions were. Attempting to skin up even some of the well tracked routes was super challenging and sketchy on sheets of ice. I was hoping that what I'd learnt from the previous weeks adventure at Zupjok would have helped me but after a relatively spectacular bail down a 15ft steep section of ice I conceded and did what everyone else was doing - finding alternative routes and even boot packing on the really steep stuff. Unlike at Zupjok, the Baker touring wasn't very heavily treed and therefore you could be expected to be delivered at the bottom of the gradient should you bail. Not fun.

(Will with Table mountain in the background)

The views were spectacular once again though and I was enjoying taking in mount Shuksan and other peaks of the lower cascades in the beautiful weather. As we slowly but steadily made our way to the cut below table mountain where we were to ski into the bowl a little way before traversing up and around the table we spotted a few wet slides that had already happened.

(view of Shuksan with dots of snowshoers along the ridge )

  The idea was to hit The south side of the peak first (which was relatively less steep but would have the sun beating on it) early in the day so we could travel round and back down out past Bagley lakes. The ski from the coll looked interesting in the lean conditions and not all the team were convinced at the prospect of the ski out being much fun in the given conditions either. Since in my opinion its never a good idea for a team to split, not least leave one man on their own, if one of you wasn't psyched, we all weren't.

So instead of completing the intended tour we'd set out to do we had a great time leisurely exploring nearby ridges, taking funny photos, building a snow bench to sit on and basking in the sun, skiing a little, then sitting a little, then skiing some more, ass sliding races, exchanging stories, more beacon practice and eventually skiing out mostly with skins on only to be taken off for the icy cat tracks we finished down.

Even if I were a better skier I think I would have had a great day. After all what could be better than larking around with some good friends on skis and absorbing some quality vitamin D whilst about it? And as a beginner skier the day was even better because even the limited exposure to a touring day like this all helps to add to my ski learning and mileage. Skiing in these lean conditions, even on 'boring cat tracks' on the way out is still something I don't have dialed, especially on fat long skis that I hadn't used before, so its all useful and a great deal of fun gaining more experience!

The illegal haggis, more junk food, more scotch, more ale and some spectacular birthday cake were henceforth consumed that evening and we celebrated Robbie Burns night with and American twist.

Understandably yet regrettably nobody seemed to have quite the psyche I did to return to the slopes on Sunday. As much more experienced skiers I could totally see how unappealing another day on that ice would be to those guys or even less appealing paying to hit the groomers in that condition again. But having burned a hole in my pocket hiring my planks for the weekend anyway and having never skied Baker resort proper I would have jumped on anybody who may have uttered a word of positivity toward the idea. To my expectation but ever so slight disappointment, no one did. 

Again we had a great time though, hanging out and shooting shit, visiting a cool coffee shop on the way out of Glacier and another really surreal gas station that sold the biggest blocks of cheese priced as cheaply as I've seen since leaving the UK.

A huge thanks to Colleen and Will for organizing the whole weekend and Christine and Dave for some great food, not to mention Paul's poetry reciting skills and Beth's stellar cake!

So as the season plods on I really hope we get some snow soon. It will make getting the mileage in much easier. If not, I'm sure I can settle for learning to be a powder hound in the backcountry. Having just made an offer on some BD Starlets (touring ski) with Dynafit Tech bindings and skins it will make the settling option a whole lot more palatable if my dude accepts!

[jadelittlewood]

'Tis the season to go touring!

I haven’t written in a while. Unfortunately the excuse this time is not because I’ve been spending every spare hour stuck to a piece of granite. Probably more realistically it’s because whenever I’ve had time to be sat in front of my computer I have felt too guilty to do anything but push out resumes and search for career furthering employment.

Despite a very good end to the season with climbing in Squamish happening for me until late October it feels like things are pretty much over with a damp and cold beginning to the November month. Thankfully, despite a burning desire to always eek more out of the season, I feel satisfied to put it to bed knowing I made far more of the climbing here than I had anticipated. Arriving at the tail end of summer and unsure I could find stoked partners to rally to get out as much as I wanted to, I had gingerly pledged just to put my efforts into getting set up in my life here in Van, meeting some new people and hopefully putting in some ground work days finding new partners and getting to know the rock a bit to build up a net work and a tick list for next summer. Thanks to a steady stream of psyched new (and old) friends I feel I more than did this and that I actually progressed on new rock and new styles.

Some of the many highlights have been my introductory day back to the bluffs and some uber classics with Paul and Ian, trying out new multi-pitches on the papoose with Em, epic-ing on 5.9 wide cracks with Ross, developing slab technique with Emily, discovering the pleasures of bouldering with Paul, Lenny and Sheena, Em and I and Howser the dog touring the bluffs again, daft adventures with Jen and giving her an ‘exciting’ belay for my first 5.11a (albeit reputedly soft touch!) and more recently learning aid techniques with Baz at Sully’s and stepping up on hooks for the first time.

(Attempting a really fun V4 at the Grandwall boulders - photo credit to Lenny)

(Howser waiting patiently whilst Em and I climbed in the Bluffs)

Sully’s was a couple of weeks ago now and at high a point of frustration over the remembrance day long weekend (working when my friends who all have proper jobs were planning trips) lead me to vent by planning my own, solo, adventure to Vancouver island. I had some new gear to test out (new marmot plasma 15 down sleeping back and ExPed UL 9 synmat) and since it seemed depressingly unlikely that my shop hours would coincide with any of my friends cool trips for the coming weeks I decided to take advantage of a Sunday/Monday break from work and go touring on my bike.

I’d only been to the Island once before when Beth, Rosie and I went over to do the Cape Scott trail over five years ago. I have never been to Victoria even and felt there was much exploring to be done. Plus since I didn’t fancy succumbing to (what I expect will become an unfortunate reality of Vancouver based cycling) having to head up the sea-to-skye highway to get in some decent mileage away from traffic lighted roads - I decided I’d give the Island a go to see if I couldn’t find a nice wee loop.

It took a while to work out where to go for a few reasons: I had never been to the island before (well once along time ago - we’ve discussed that) and didn’t know the roads, I realised that the roads on the map that look like small wee roads that would be fun to ride in Scotland may not be the same kettle of fish, I hadn’t cycled more than commuting distance for a while let alone toured so I was cautious to keep a modest mileage, I needed to find somewhere I could camp along the loop.

(Route maps)

I decided upon a route starting in Victoria that took me out west and toward Sooke. It looked like I could find somewhere low key to camp if I followed the River up North past a place called the Pot-holes and on the map it looked like I could even find a way to loop back on some tiny wee roads that winded down past a couple of lakes. Lovely!

The only problem was that the Ferry doesn’t actually land in Victoria. The Route is Tsawwassen to Swartz Bay….and Swartz bay is a good 20miles from Victoria. It wasn’t even that I was un-keen to ride this extra distance it was just that the route I would have to cycle didn’t look too appealing-with lots of junctions and stops and starts if I wanted to avoid the main highway. I decided since the nights drew in at about 5pm (and since I would be landing on the island at around 11am if I caught the 9am ferry) to save time and hop on the handy bus that departs from the ferry terminal to Downtown Victoria (#70 or #72).  

The night before when discussing the trip with a friend - an Islander in fact - he mentioned to me about the Lochside Regional trail and the Galloping Goose trail. I had seen things on the internet whilst researching cycling on the island about the Galloping Goose trail but wasn’t sure of the terrain and if it would be suitable for touring but I hadn’t realized a cycle-able trail went all the way from the Swartz Bay ferry terminal, down to Victoria and out to Sooke!

Unfortunately my friends info had come a little too late as I was prepared with maps and head-set on my original route, although I did do a bit of further internet research to try and find out where the Lochside started and went. I was disappointed to find reasonably terrible maps and info on the trails and expected it would be signposted off the ferry or easy to find. Since this was not the case and my confusion off the Ferry compounded my original intentions to hit the road route I’d planned - upon my return I tried to create a map from internet directions (http://www.crd.bc.ca/parks/documents/lochside_trail_guide.pdf  - bottom of page 5) to work out where you would go from the Ferry terminal, so that hopefully others don’t have a similar experience.

(Map of start of Lochside trail from Swartz Bay ferry terminal)

Although the road route was pretty traffic heavy and not particularly scenic leaving Victoria, I found it really interesting to journey out of the urban and gradually hit the countryside in a new place. The vernacular was much more British than I expected and certain subliminal triggers reminded me of home. This was slightly bizarre juxtaposed with riding along a North American scaled ‘highway’.

After just a few hours of pedaling I had hit the sooke river and was ascending the hill toward my roughly anticipated camping spot. I leisurely pottered around the river looking at the new scenery and vaguely spotting potential wild camping spots which happily seemed in abundance. I plodded on settled with the knowledge I could always pick up a tent spot back down the road if the opportunities became less fruitful the more I continued.

The road thinned and further paired back until it was nearly a track when I realised the galloping goose trail was running just parallel to me. I picked this up, again pleased that wild camping seemed like an easy option and flirted with the idea of continuing the extra 15k to Leechtown. About 5k into this idea I realised it was getting dark, the spitting rain had turned into a hammering poor and luckily enough I spotted what looked to be a cooking shelter affiliated with a campsite.

I rolled in to the campsite to find it had shut down for winter - not a soul there - thankfully basic facilities (toilet huts and shelter) still open. Taking on the impending downpour I realized I’d hit jackpot being able to pee and cook my dinner in the dry (not at the same time - obviously!).

One thing I’ve noticed since living in Canada is its peoples general reluctance to ‘bend’ rules or rebel against authority even on the most minor issues. For a country so well-endowed with wild environments and intimidating expanses of mountain playgrounds in harsh conditions I have never met such a bunch of cotton wool covered pansies! Sorry -thats probably kind of harsh (not to mention severely generalized) - but coming from living in Scotland (and probably more understandably Glasgow) where ‘Awright ya wee Baw-bag’ is a term of endearment and gale force winds and white-outs can be considered good winter climbing conditions I find this perhaps heightens my awareness of the paradoxically safe playing - belay testing - trail marking - helmet wearing Canadians. Anyway - rant over. My point being with such well behaved peers in mind I opted to pitch my tent on the outskirts of the conveniently groomed tent bays smuggled in behind some trees, just in case some adventure-less park ranger were to play stickler to the ‘closure’ rules pinned to the gates of the Sooke pot holes regional park and turf me out on his/hers gate keeping rounds at ‘9pm prompt’.

(My backwater camping spot, pretty picturesque even with a washed out grey November background)

I pitched my tent immediately, before the rain got worse and the last of light drew in and trekked back up to the shelter where I was able to luxuriously hang wet waterproofs out to dry and fire up the stove to cook my dinner of Ramen noodles followed by hot chocolate.

I’d managed to eak out an hour or two cooking and washing up but finally at about 7.30pm I succumbed to the fact that all that was left to do was cosy on down in my tent inside my new sleeping bag, listen to the horrible weather outside and read my book. Pure Bliss!!

My new gear was more than up to the mild temperatures that the night dished out and my neg 9 down sleeping bag coupled with an R value of 6 from my sleeping mat left me sleeping nearly naked to be at a comfortably cool temperature! Success in lightweight/warm/comfortable sleeping gear had been achieved!

After a good nights sleep (despite a few woken moments making sure I couldn’t hear bears or pedantic Rangers outside!) I awoke to more rain. Breakfasting and watering from the adjacent river under the relative comfort of the shelter allowed me to ponder the days route.

(Campground Selfie! Warming up my muscles for the day with a hot brew at breakfast under the shelter.)

Doubtful that the wee roads I’d seen on the map were actually ride-able and unwilling to risk a real epic in the persisting precipitation I decided to settle the intrigue I had for the Galloping goose trail. I also subsided to the fact that since the tame gradients and traffic free characteristics of the galloping goose trail would probably make way for a reasonably fast average mph and they would unlikely tire out even a weary and unfit touring cyclist like myself, I could probably go for broke and cycle all the way back to Swartz bay without having to catch a bus in Victoria. Stoked on this idea I suited up in all my best rain defending gear - geeky contact lense protecting cycling glasses et al - and hit the trail.

It was evident even a short while in that all though the GG trail was very scenic and indeed - I was knocking off the Km’s pretty fast - I was also getting pretty wet and pretty gunged up fast. Lots of the trail had turned to mushy muddy puddles and without mudguards things were getting gunked up pretty bad. I actually found this quite fulfilling - if I couldn’t get my kicks from enduring punishingly steep gradients over long distances a good old child-like mud-covered experience would do as a substitute.

Psyche was high for about 80% of the way into Victoria as even through grey skies the occasional glimpses of quaint harbours and sea views were awe-inspiring enough to keep me positive through the cold hard rain and mud spraying constantly in my face.

The galloping Goose took me along sections of trail solo for Kms with not another being in-site, sections where I raced school kids on cross-country running training, sections where I accompanied dog walkers and twee sections across timber boardwalks and road-crossings.

(A blurry photo of my soggy steed on a nice wee bridge along the GGT)

As I approached Victoria, hungry (from a reluctance to stop in the rain to eat regularly enough) cold from the inevitability of wet socks and gloves (no matter how technically good/waterproof during 3hours of hitting raindrops at an average of 17mph and then the wet ground spewing moisture back up at you - the barriers don’t stand much of a chance) and pretty miserable I was trying to find away to convince myself that continuing to Swartz Bay was a good idea.

Often in times like these - times of suffering a bit - no matter how severe the relative stimulus of this suffering - I often think of my climbing Idol - Steph Davis - to try to muster the fight to persevere. I think back to Stephs book where she is describing her efforts in Patagonia and attempts to summit the Torre Egger - a life long ambition of hers. A cold and shivering night hunkered down in a storm in a thin bivy bag is endured by Davis and despite the suffering it all seems water off a ducks back since she has a dream to persue and being hardy to these conditions is a vital skill to achieving this dream.

As I cycled on with my ice-block hands and feet, barely able to squeeze the brakes, continuing to be pounded with the rain, I thought to myself - ‘Steph would carry on to Swartz bay, I want to be as tough as Steph and this is a way of pushing myself towards that’. I jolted back out of Idol druelling world and continued straight on to Victoria at the sign for the Lochside trail up to Swartz bay - laughing to myself ‘…but Steph never had the lure of a warm coffee shop and the pull of an egg-nog latte as a get out clause to Patagonias hostile storms’.

I blundered into starbucks in Victoria thankful that the polite Barista lady seemed unconcerned that I just dripped half of the pacific ocean on her hardwood floor and as I awaited my hot beverage and calorie intense snack I proceeded to strip naked in their washrooms, ringing my underwear out in the sink and changing into my luxuriosly - only slightly damp - spare cloths.

Happy that bailing was the right thing to do I continued on to the last legs of my journey on a dry bus and ferry back to Vancouver, satisfied with my mini break and first bike adventure on Canadian turf, this reinforced how good an option cycle touring can be as a solo persuit to evade the depressing pangs when adventures with freinds just dont align for one reason or another. I am now super psyched for more and in anticipation of winter outdoor activities as soon as the shoulder season ends!

[jadelittlewood]

Peanut Butter and Jam!

Okay okay, I know it's 'Jelly' especially if I am to conform to my new countries colloquialisms - but the pun wouldn't work the same and besides, maybe I'm trying to make an intellectually subtle reference to the attempted reticence a fresh off the boat Yorkshire girl has to 'conform' to her new North American cultural surroundings. Or maybe not.

Maybe I was just looking for a clever way to introduce a blog discussing the beginnings of my new Vancouver life and to as always talk about the climbing as one among many adjustments I am now making in my new life.

I must apologize to all my non-climbing audience to whom the very notion of a 'Jam'- to describe a method of climbing a crack system by jamming ones extremities into it is completely non-existent in their understanding of the word and therefore renders them completely oblivious to the attempted pun anyway....

My first day in Vancouver consisted of a tiring ordeal at the airport picking up my visa and my four items of luggage. 1 regular bag, 1 snowboard and 2 bike boxes, of course. After arriving to my new home - a roomy basement suite for one at the South end of Main - I naturally built up a bike so at least I could be mobile around town and then fled to the nearest grocery store for supplies.

Family and friends were duly notified of my safe arrival and also pointed out the predictability of my prioritising building a bike before contacting them. What???

The climbing:

My second day in Canada - off to Squamish! Paul picked me up at just after 8am and after picking Boyle up along the way we hit the Sea-to-Skye highway bound for some granite! My excitement just about bowled over any exhaustion from jet lag, it was bizarre yet thrilling to be back in B.C and to hook up with some old friends to get out for a climb in such a stunning location.

The conditions and group feeling lead us to the 'smoke bluffs', a single pitch cragging destination popular for its accessibility and high density of quality routes. Fortunately a forecast of 40% rain scared off the masses and an 'against the odds' sunny out-look gave room for us to have a day ticking some easy classics, well for me at least anyway. With so much to go at, since I'd hardly done any routes in Squamish before, and knowing that the style would feel very different and unnerving I was more than happy to work up the grades slowly by ticking some of the best the smoke bluffs had to offer.

I wet my appetite on 'laughing crack;, an affable and spectacularly good 5.7 crack, despite the easy grade the climbing felt slightly strange and bizarre  smearing on sticky granite with my hands in a perfect splitter. Paul and Ian continued to be perfect hosts by leading me to 3 more of the top 100 climbs (a total of 4 all in my first day!) 'The Quarryman' (5.8), 'Penny Lane' (5.9), and 'Flying Circus' (5.10a). By late afternoon the jet-lag, intense heat and unusual humidity had started to make me exhausted and after sliding down the slab of 'Werewolves in London' (5.11a) on second we called it a day and the boys thankfully re-united me with the awesome beer in the brew pub in Squamish town! A great first day!

The next time I got to go to squamish was again with Paul, this time to Murrin Park, the closest of the Squamish craggs. Still unsure of what exactly I was capable of climbing in the YDS grading and on the granite in general - despite the grade conversion chart (you only climb as hard as your latest onsight right?!) I was still more than happy to figure it out slowly by climbing some easier classics along the way and working from the bottom up - putting the mileage in. For this reason I started on the lower easier sections (to half way anchors) on some of the uber classics at nightmare rock (Grandaddy overhang and sentry box) whilst Paul managed to tick his project 'Perspective' in a very controlled and cruising manner.

(Paul on the steep start to perspective)

We then moved on to the area 'Up among the firs' and with Pauls encouragement I had a good battle with 'A little testis' (10c- formerly 10.b?) another 'top 100' route which I thoroughly enjoyed being slightly more successful at abstaining from lay-backing the beautiful crack to the top of the crag (albeit if I had to run it out a little to save enough energy to get there!)

(The luscious hand crack at the top of 'A little testis' just about visible-a real treat after completing the awkward bulgy crux)

Since then I've managed to fit a few more successful days in around my sporadic shifts at the outdoor shop which has meant getting out mid-week with some new and suitable partners to explore more of the 'bluffs' and get a multi-pitch done on the papoose at Shannon falls. 

(View from 'Hairpin' on the Papoose at Shannon Falls - photo credit to Aaron Stein)

All in all I'm finding the climbing an awesome new challenge, having done very little here in Squamish I feel like the crags are my oyster and the potential to tick awesome routes at every outing is gladly very high. I spent every spare minute glued to my guide book druling over the next adventure and psyched to work my weaknesses on slabs and cracks.

(Me having managed the unusually poorly protected low crux of 'catch me quicker' 10b at Burgers and fries - smoke bluffs)

What I feel I lack in technique for this style of climbing through my apprenticeship on very differently formed, British rock I feel I gain in what my training has taught me about tricky gear placements...especially for the cracks, the gear is easy to place and totally solid. I find I am running things out since I am thinking of the perfectly placed cam 10ft below my feet almost like a bolt and knowing that should a section get tricky I can stuff another one of these bomb-proof pieces in whenever I want with ease! I am hoping that climbing in this way will allow me to push my climbing to the maximum at some point on wicked trad lines and improve as an all-round climber, I'm in no huge rush to to get there though as I don't want to miss out on all the awesome climbs that an apprenticeship on the granite is allowing me to climb. I am having fun ticking some awesome climbs and learning to move in a different way as I go. Lets hope there is still some climbing days to be squeezed out of this season!

City life and Cafe Culture

Apart from for the nearby world class climbing being back in Vancouver is just awesome. It took me a little while to get over the surreal-ness of finally being back, when you dream about something for so long the hype feels almost insurmountable and to be finally living the dream felt - well - dreamlike! I was slightly nervous that I had just had Vancouver on a pedestal higher than it deserved and therefore it wouldn't live up to the picture of perfection I saw through my rose-tinted glasses in the doom and gloom of recession-ville, UK.

After I'd gotten over waiting to wake up from my dream (which still hasn't happened by the way!) I then became to remember all the differences there are here to home. Differences that I took a long time in discovering last time I was here (as a first timer) and I would now need to re-learn. This was a bizarre feeling situation in itself. I had memories of things and therefore pre-conceptions of other things that felt familiar, but since I haven't lived here for five years, they are not actually familiar anymore, I felt stuck in a strange 'revision period' for a couple of days until things all clicked into place and it started to feel easy and welcoming again. To give you some examples; simple things like 'tipping'; Canadians tip between 10%-15% for service (so food, drink, taxis...) its not a big deal, I just kinda forgot that was the culture and re-learning it having once known it so well felt almost stranger than knowing it for the first time. Other examples are things like learning to use the bus system again, remembering all the cool (but very different) grocery items they have here, (the fact they call them groceries!?) the shops, the beer, the colloquilasims...so many to mention! Its not new to me, but it wasn't familiar either. The amount of times I have said..."oh yeah I forgot about" that in the last month....

Having acquired a job and got comfortable in my new place has helped me to become very comfortable in my new surroundings and into a routine than helps me to feel like I belong here pretty quickly. Having some good friends living close by to begin with has also undoubtedly helped an enormous amount and it has been great to catch up with them. However I had also forgotten how friendly people are over here and meeting new people, new mid week climbing partners, new friends at work or just nice people to chat to down the wall/ in the shop/ at the crag/ on the bus, out on my bike is really easy and I love that.

Vancouver is a really cool city to live in and I'm glad to be feeling that vibe already even without being fully established here yet. Not only is it in a beautiful location with mountain views from most points in the city and surrounded by ocean but I really dig the city-vibe and relaxed culture of a cool urban place. Despite loving the mountains I am un-ashamedly a city dweller. I like being surrounded by a variety of fun things to do and a population scale that allows for meeting people to do those fun things with.

Vancouver has a great culture for eating out with bars and eatery's being for the most part synonymous. There are loads of great little independent coffee houses/cafes/bars and restaurants with the opportunity to get into a variety of live music genres, not to mention theatre and arts.

Because of the large Asian population in Vancouver Sushi is a very popular dining option and I certainly buy into that culture. The rolls are really cheap too with a sushi meal out costing easily less than 10 bucks on average. I am really enjoying being able to have sushi again a lot and have already become familiar with my local sushi place on Main 'Ogenki'. I can highly reccommend their 'Genki roll' - Spicy Yam tempura, cream cheese and potato crisp, Yum!

(Sushi take out from Ogenki - a becoming regular of my new diet.)

Another thing I love about living inVancouver is its laid back Cafe culture. One of my favorite day-off activities (other than climbing...obviously) is to sit in a cafe reading the paper/ Squamish guide book or taking my laptop to work on my resume whilst managing to get through a few Soya Latte's (if only I owned some Lulu-lemon clothing and were returning from a yoga class I could fulfill the pefect 'Fem-Van' stereotype!).

I'll tell you a little secret...but promise not to tell anyone - even though I've been made-up of late by managing to fill all my days off with getting out climbing, I have been partially hoping for a rainy day just so that I can justify going and sitting in an establishment like 'Continental' on Main and 26th or 'Cafe Milano' (which is great coffee near my work on Broadway and Manitoba) and get to grips with some emails/graphics work and updating my resume, completely free of any 'I should be climbing instead of sitting indoors in front a screen' guilt.

(Lazy cafe days reading a book and enjoying the great coffee at 'Continental' on main)

The future....

I guess the whole point of embarking on an adventure is that there are some uncertainties, it's what makes it exciting. However I'm not on holiday here, I'm trying to make a life for myself and I feel that having a place to live, a job (whatever the wage and circumstance) and some good friends is a good start in establishing some more certainties fundamental to staying here in Vancouver. I would like to add to that certainty at some point by acquiring a form of employment that allows me to progress my career and also gives me the earning power to fulfill the fun activities I want to embark on in the winter season, but for the moment, as we creep toward the end of the summer days, I'm just trying to focus on doing what seems most fun in the here and now and to not worry too much about the future...all I know is that I hope it involves me, Vancouver, some Granite climbing and possibly a job in a cool mid-sized Architecture firm on the North-shore......

[jadelittlewood]

[jadelittlewood]

A thorn between two roses

Since leaving Scotland almost exactly a month ago I've been enjoying spending some time in my home town of Todmorden, a small Valley town sitting right on the border between Yorkshire and Lancashire. At eighteen I felt justly claustrophobic in this small place, having attended the only high School there and creating many relationships in a relatively small radius it was inevitable that lives and business became somewhat intertwined. I can now see the great advantages of this, great friendships, familiarity and a sense of belonging I guess. But I no longer live in Todmorden or am thinking of returning to live there for any serious length of time due to some of the disadvantages of living in a small town. The disadvantages that were so prevalent in my out-look at 18; the small town mentality to sometimes be blinkered to the opportunities around, the inevitable gossiping and the lack of choice to anonymity that you get in much bigger towns and cities.

(Todmorden: Stuck between two Counties)

In February time I think, I was visiting sarah and Luce in Manchester and a crisp winters day walk was suggested. Being so close to the peak district I assumed we would almost certainly  take in some sights around the Roaches or some other impressive and craggy terrain. Instead the girls advocated a visit to 'Tod'. I was a bit perturbed and then dismissive of my hometown in the back water between Yorkshire and Lancashire but saw the logic since I could also pop in on my old man and say hello and have a brew.

It was this day that tipped the balance to me wanting to spend some time back home before flying out to Canada. Obviously I had always thought it would be great to get to spend a good bit of time with my dad before I left the country indefinitely and catch up with some other family and old friends, but realizing how much the hills around Tod had to offer as a playground amongst this time really swayed it and I realized I had been wrongly discerning about the towns favourable attributes to someone with my interests. Trail running, wild swimming, cross country mountain biking, gritstone bouldering and trad climbing not to mention offering close proximity to friends, family and fun times in Manchester made being unemployed in Tod ,chilling out at my dads gaff a pretty affable plan.

(View from the Golf course of Todmorden, a valley town with stunning hills_courtesy of  wikipedia...I do my research well!)

Although I thought this a fun prospect it had been a while since I had the foresight of having NOTHING to do and I had anticipated needing to be slightly creative to fill my time. That why when friends suggested they'd come visit I jumped on their offers like hot cakes. As I should have realized as is often the case I was actually much busier that I had suspected and fitting everything and everyone in became a challenging task.

Nevertheless, I've come away feeling like I managed to do an OK job and had a great and memorable time in this small chapter. Mostly due to my Pop being such a chilled out and easy guy to be around but also to all my other awesome friends and family who got involved.

One significant adventure came quite early on as Ross and Duncan voyaged down from Scotland for us to get a pretty sweet trip in North Wales. As usual me and my fellow guidebook geek Ross had a pretty extensive wish list for the area but as is also becoming gladly usual we proved to be a pretty effective team at getting it ticked! Poor Duncan's shoulder was still not fixed properly and being fairly fresh to trad techniques, despite being a TCA strongman he sat out the epic adventure that Ross and I managed to have on 'dream of white horses at Gogarth, a climb that must be on every British trad climbers wish list no matter what grade they climb. The climbing is fairly straightforward for even someone only just getting to grips with HVS but the way-finding, exposure and incredibly improbable looking terrain make it an enticing and exciting route for even confident extreme leaders. Being comfortable seconding and leading traverses and down climbs, abseiling above sea and not loosing the plot when belay stations and line directions are not where you were hoping are pretty desirable attributes for success on the route. Thanks to our injured personal photographer there are some pretty cool shots to prove how cool the route is. Go do it!

(Traversing the last and most awesome pitch of DOWH)

(A long first pitch - that's because I missed the first belay and built one halfway up pitch 3 instead!oops.)

(Team bright colours strike again - another successful top-out of a british classic!)

Over the next couple of days we managed to clean up our wish lists on the Cromlech. I had a pump fest on Cenotaph Corner and enjoyed the huge jugs on steep terrain on cemetery gates. Ross proved himself ready for trying some E3s in my mind by sending Left Wall, a pretty seminal E2 in any aspiring trad climbers eyes and a route I hope I get the chance to come back and lead one day.

(Cenotaph corner - the route that keeps on giving!)

Between blistering in the afternoon heat of the Cromlech and drinking bowel movement inducing coffee at Pete's eats we also managed to introduce Dunc' to trad by means of some routes on the slate, go for a cooling swim in Vivian quarry and avoiding the midges at the Vaynol campsite by for-going cooking nutritional dinners for eating chips in the Heights pub instead (this is what happens when you don't come away Jules!)

(Duncan experiencing the delights of slate and trad climbing in Bus stop quarry)

Post wales I realised I didn't actually have any free weekends left before I went and I panicked a bit about getting my portfolio prepped for hopeful interviews in Vancouver and getting on top of the job hunt. In my time away from the computer screen I managed to have some outdoors fun by sweltering in the unusual sun on awesome trail runs up to Stoodley Pike, jumping in Gaddings dam for a relieving cold swim, solo'd some routes at Summit quarry (a local gem if ever there was one!), effectively making use of the wren soloist Stocksy lent me (which I was quite pleased about), got spanked on the sweaty problems at Todmorden's infamous Bridestones boulders and managed a few finger board sessions when the weather was crap too.

This may sound like I was the picture of good health and productivity but in order to keep the balance I also enjoyed a few boozy nights out too; an early and unexpected booze-up in Manchester with Mike and Cass visiting for a Goldfrapp concert saw me get carried away with old friends and end the night with little memory despite apparently causing lots to remember! I also got schooled in the art of mid-week ale drinking with some of my mums old friends and had a fantastic time with Uncles and Aunts on both sides trying to fatten me up. I visited my Dads brother and his wife in the dirty South for an enjoyable weekend of eating and relaxing and a goodbye meal with my Aunty Tessy and the Ambrose clan in Cheadle saw me ad Meggers eat five courses of chinese at the imperial.

After all that eating and drinking I was uber stoked that Rosie, Cass and Erin's visit for a weekend of outdoor activity was still to come. I treated them to the delights of the Pike trail run, Gaddings dip and we even attempted a group road ride. Lets just say that 2 inner tubes, only ten miles and a lot of faff-ing later we sacked it off for a pub lunch with Sam at the Stubbings Wharf! Who says girls cant deal with punctures?

Rosie and I even managed to fit in an intimidation session at the mighty steep walls of Heptonstall quarry. The HVS graded 'Bull's crack' was quite enough for that day, giving us both a good challenge and extrapolating a few swear words from our usually very lady-like vocabularies! Other must do's at the crag include the awesomely wandering line of 'Fairy-steps' a classic HS and props to Rosie for handling the intimidating second so cooly! Would love to go back for forked lightening crack and thin Red Line one day if I'm in the area with time.

(The UK's highest beach!...As reported by the Yorkshire evening post... and conveniently along the route of the run for a cooling dip...don't mind if we do!)

Despite all this busy-ness i was really stoked to have gotten to spend some time with my Dad, just hanging out chilling together. I was grateful to him for having me stay for a month and hoped that the 'free to a good home' (thanks Tommy Gun!) bike I sourced and made road worthy for him, scaffolding I helped build plus donning my rope access hat and abb-ing off his roof to take some render off the outside wall gave a little pay back to show my appreciation. Sometimes I feel like the Son he never had!

(Dad proud to have re-found his cycling skills!)

So after all this excitement in the last UK chapter for a while it was kinda sad to leave. A ten hour flight certainly gave me head-space to once again think about all the good things I would be leaving behind, despite looking forward to my Canadian adventure. I hoped the people who made it so special have a chance to read this and realize how grateful I am.

Canadian episode to follow...stay tuned!! 

[jadelittlewood]

The last days of a Scottish Summer

As I sprinted towards my leaving Scotland date I kept waiting for things to hit a mellow patch. As is the usual pattern of my life where really good things punctuate the norm, but where the momentum of adventures seems to slow down in between a lot, be it weather, injury, work or just 'life' getting in the way. With all the great weekends already reported on, I kept thinking, "that one must be it now, I've had my fill of amazing weather and amazing trips and to come now is just a lull before I leave". The funny thing is, I think I would have been satisfied if it had. I'd banked soo many fun adventures over the last few months that, although always hungry for more, it would have been awesome to just take away those memories.

Thankfully Scotland and my awesome friends that live in it were not done. Ross and I still had our eye on the Needle on Shelterstone Crag in the Cairngorms. Back when I first got inspired to do a long route on the Shelterstone years ago, 'The needle, E1' was the apple of my eye. Nine pitches over 260m to the backdrop of Loch A'an, it looked spectacular but it was at my grade limit and would be a very challenging outing. 

We had been discussing when we might be able to attempt the route at TCA one evening when some friends suggested how much of a better line 'Steeple' was. Sitting relatively adjacent to The Needle but at E2 it covered 250m over 7 pitches and the climbing was apparently much more sustained and took a much more direct line up the Shelterstone Crag. I had only really recently broken into the E2 grade and it wasn't consolidated, but I had secretly flirted with the idea that maybe we should try that instead of The Needle. It was a notch harder than the needle but I was confident I could have a good go at the crux pitch and especially with Ross as a partner, having lead more E2's than me, there was no reason why we shouldn't raise the bar in-line with the improvements in our climbing and seek out the better line. Psyche was high!

The weekend before my last week in work was giving a confusing weather forecast, one that encouraged me to go drinking on the Friday night since Saturday's rain meant it wasn't a likely day to head to the Cairngorms, although Sunday still held some promise. Unfortunately the drinking 'til the early hours on top of a week or more of late nights and little rest sent me over the edge and I got ill. My physical health put a stopper to the Sunday plans but thankfully the rain that came down made it easier to stay in bed with the Albas Oil knowing I wasn't missing out on any climbing at least.

We had to make it happen the week after then. Luckily Monday's forecast, my first day off after finishing work, was a continuation of the weekends fabulous sun and I headed over to Edinburgh on the Sunday, huge hangover and epic tiredness after awesome leaving party all in tow.

Due to the imminent tiredness and inevitable post-party blues we had made the savvy but luxurious decision to stay in a hostel that night so as to make sure we had the best chance at a goods night sleep. An early start for the anticipated 12 hour day to ensue.

We got up at 6am, knowing that both Ross and I would need some time for imperative faff-age in the morning hoping to set off from the Corrie Chais Carpark at 7.30. This worked perfectly.

(Sunny walk in, Ross a-top the plateau before dropping in to Shelterstone Crag)

The Gary Latter guide book suggests a 2.5hr walk-in for to the base of the route, we which assumed was about right even though we were taking a different route in than he suggests. Our approach, an amalgamation of suggestions from friends, lead into Corrie an T-Sneachda and then steeply climbed the goat track at the back of the Corrie, a quicker but more arduous route than Gary suggests. Then from the plateau we headed out toward Ben Macdui but dropping off east toward the base of the Shelterstone. We left or bags near the south edge of the slabs before we had dropped too much in height so that it would be easy to collect them on the way out from the top of the route.

This worked pretty well and we managed to find the base of the route pretty easily by its obvious initial corner pitches. I think by the time I left the ground on the lead of the first corner pitch it was about 10.45. It had taken us just under 3 hours I guess to do the walk in (stopping to rack up and ditch our sacks) and a bit of time to get ready to climb.

The first pitch was really enjoyable climbing. Loads of gear and nice and long gaining a couple of overlaps. The first being the crux of the 5a pitch I guess.

(Initial corner pitch of Steeple, 5a)

Next Ross had another 5a pitch. It was significantly shorter but packed a punch giving insecure feeling footwork to a slabby ramp corner with a cracked feature running up the perpendicular wall, throwing you off balance. The climbing was technical but so far nicely sustained.

(Ross on intricate second corner pitch of Steeple, 5a)

Pitch 3 gave me an easy long scramble to the base of the intimidatingly steep curving crux pitch. I was happy to let Ross lead this as I felt confident that I would have been able to step up to the challenge had it been necessary but that I would enjoy climbing the 5b corner pitch higher up more. Plus I was confident in Ross's abilities to get us up the pitch!

Ross dispatched the crux with confidence and ease (and maybe just a couple of huff's and puff's) whilst I sat intimidated at the prospect of seconding with a pack and doing his valiant lead justice by not falling off. Although the pitch was tough I got through it carrying a pack and had gained an uber pump. We both agreed that whilst there were no stopper moves, the climbing required you to be able to repeatedly pull on flattish or small holds on steep terrain. Very pumpy indeed!

(Ross-cool as a cucumber-Mathers on the steep and pumpy crux pitch, 5c)

Next came an easy but interesting 4c/5a pitch which I lead with some fun moves through a hanging corner. I felt the guide didn't describe very clearly that below a steep roof capping the corner the route heads right along an easy ledge to climb another corner crack at its very right end, which then leads to a belay ledge below the imposing 5b corner pitch.

Because Ross had lead the crux it was then my turn to lead again. Looking up, the steep corner seemed to go on for miles and although I was slightly intimidated I was thrilled to have this awesome looking pitch as my lead. The start was a fairly thrutchy but positive lay-back given by the crack in the corner and only smeary friction features for your feet. It was tiring placing gear and I was hoping that the cam-tastic parallel sided crack would help this. Unfortunately however the crack opened up by at least a cam size inside making it hard to place the right sized good runner without careful, energy consuming adjustment. I could see a niche higher up beyond two pieces of fixed and after getting pumped trying to place half my rack in marginal mid-sized camelots in the opening crack I decided to go for broke and use my energy to get to the niche, a rest hold and better feet awaited. It took a bit of huffing and puffing but I got there. I was able to de-pump a little on this hold and was pleased to see that the climbing got easier, with footholds which allowed me to bridge out and get some weight off my arms. Also, thankfully, the gear got smaller and I was able to finish the pitch on mid-sized nuts, which was lucky, since I had another 20 metres of climbing to do and had placed every size of cam on my harness from 0.5 - 3, some doubles!! Props to Ross for getting all this gear out without having to rest on second. Thanks matey!

(managing to bridge above the niche on some easier climbing as part of the penultimate 5b corner)

We only had one pitch to go and were feeling relatively fresh. It was down to Ross to lead the final short 5a crack and get us off. After my enduro-pitch I thought this would be a doddle as Ross made it look so. However I actually struggled to make a move from a crack on the left over to the right because my span wasn't quite as big as Ross' and I thought I was gonna come off. Luckily I managed to stay on and make it up without blowing it and falling. The Steeple was still giving us a kick right up until the very end! Later we read that the SMC guide gives this pitch 5b too which I think is possibly more realistic, especially for the short armed.

A short celebration on the top before a swift walk to collect the bags and back up and out of Sneachda to the car park. We were pretty tired as we approached the car at about 8pm but managed a pint on the way out of Aviemore to celebrate and muse over how great the route had been and how smoothly it had gone. This route was possibly the biggest 'before I go to Canada tick' I could get done. Well pleased!!

(pleased to have topped out on such a brilliant route)

Since I'm now unemployed I had nothing critical to do on Tuesday until the evening and since the weather was still going to be brilliant Ross suggested we have another days climbing somewhere more local. Not sure what my body would be up to with an increasingly imposing shoulder injury and after a 12 hour day the one before I was happy with a relaxed plan to head to a single pitch crag in the county for some chilled out bimbling.

In our relatively lethargic state, we made a terrible crag choice based on getting somewhere after a late start and getting back in time to make it for a long awaited meal at the Rosaleaf with Jules that evening.

We headed to Bowden doors in the County for the hottest cragging experience I'd ever had. A south facing crag with little wind who's characteristically round and sandy holds generally require good friction for any kind of success. Our sweaty efforts were laughable, finding it too hot to put on a harness without being uncomfortably boiling. Hell, I even broke a sweat trying to eat some lunch!

Nonetheless Ross encouraged me to mop up my previous efforts on Canada crack (apt!) as a second years ago by leading it. Which I was pleased to do so, but not - I will happily admit - with any style or dignity. Next up was my re-match with Lorraine, the hardest VS I have ever tried. Hoping to fall off the baking hot and slimy smear essential for your right foot, meaning a game over situation and a trip to the nearest cold water for a swim, I was both disappointed and pleased in the same measure to stick it and continue up the lay-back crack. With the same lack of grace and style I topped out Lorraine too and Ross and I giggled knowingly at how bad I was climbing in these ridiculous conditions. Wisely Ross saved himself from similar embarrassment by offering to belay me so I could get stuff done before I left Scotland - wise guy! Chuffed to have even got those two routes done, we left, defeated by the heat.

So in my last week in Scotland and new life as an unemployed bum I managed to explore the Cathkin Braes Commonwealth mountain bike trails, party until 6am with some great friends in a Canadian tuxedo, venture to Aviemore to climb and send The Steeple, mop up some sloppy seconds despite the heat at Bowden, have a fantastic meal at the Rosaleaf followed by a lesson in good drinking at the Whiskey society, breakfast with Cass in her lovely new flat, lunch with Frazer, pint with Ian and ultimate Frisbee and barbecue with the Portobello crew on the beach before heading back to Glasgow to pack all my belongings into a Van and move on.

(Mountain biking at Cathkin Braes)

An utterly brilliant ending to a fantastic chapter. Thanks to everyone for making it happen. 

(Worryingly some pulled off the Canadian Tuxedo a little too well!)

[jadelittlewood]

[jadelittlewood]

My first tonne, a couple of red runs at Winlatter and some 'E'-numbers at shepherds - all in a weekends work!

I think I’ve mentioned before that Jules and I had been plotting a cycling trip down to the lakes for a while. Her parents have and awesome house in the middle of the countryside not far from Carlisle and Jules has previously cycled back from there a couple of times before. The route is just over 100 miles in distance and I was flattered when she suggested I’d be a capable partner to do it with again! Since her parents were away enjoying their retirement - inter-railing on the continent and grateful for house-sitters, we penciled in a couple of weekends where Tom and Lucy could come up and join us from Manchester. The idea was to take the Friday off work to cycle leaving a weekend free still for adventures with Tom and Lucy and Ross, be it climbing, mountain biking or beer drinking to keep out of the rain. The weather wasn’t looking too good for the Friday though (or the rest of the weekend for that matter) leaving us unsure if we should postpone the cycling until the next lakes weekend. With our minds ready for a 4-day week we were reluctant to change the plans and decided to go for it anyway, hoping that the heavy rain forecast was as intermittent as suggested and that we’d at least dry off in between down-pours. Besides, if the rest of the weekend was to be a wash-out we wanted to get some adventure in where we could and although its grim, you can definitely ride in the rain, you can’t climb in the rain!

Once we had made the decision I started to get really psyched about a day of adventure rather than work, although small pangs of anxiety still rumbled deep about if I’d be able to do the 100 without snapping my injured knees or holding Julesy up too terribly on her fast new bike.

Once we woke up the Friday, donning our Lycra and filling our bellies full of coffee and porridge (breakfast of champions!) those rumblings were suppressed by excitement thanks to Julesy’s typically kind reassurance and good light-hearted banter putting me at ease. 

(all ready to set off from Julesy’s flat in Edinburgh)

It took a while to get out of the bilge of Edinburgh morning traffic and onto the quieter roads, but once we did it was well worth it. The ride out to Innerleithen passed by quickly, seeing us already a third of the way there. The road from there all the way to Langholm was a road riders dream! Hardly any vehicles and stunning views, it was hard to believe this wee road existed down the middle of the country! We were able to ride side by side for a lot of the way enabling us to yap away for a good part of it and this helped some of the more taxing inclines pass by without much stress.

Predictably, at about 45 miles my energy levels started to crash despite filling my face with Jelly Babies since leaving Julesy’s flat. This happens to me every single bike ride and I never learn to realise what it is.

Frustratingly cycling very slowly into a headwind up a very slight incline with energies lacking sent me into a downward spiral of disbelief and utter exhaustion. I was glad to hear Jules was suffering similarly and we therefore stopped for a toilet break and a sandwich. Despite feeling just minutes before that I wouldn’t be able to continue any longer, I miraculously felt 100% better soon after eating and we pushed on to reach ‘halfway bridge’ at about 50 miles.



(At halfway bridge)

Things went much better for the next 20 miles despite getting rained on and still facing blustery head winds at times but we reached Langholm feeling relatively fresh still. I knew at this point I’d definitely be able to complete the ride. However, being the first settlement we’d come across for 50 miles we made the most of the wee cafe in the town-centre and stocked up on caffeine. From here in we spent a bit of time on the A7 and the roads, although still reasonably scenic, definitely got busier in relation to what we had been previously spoiled with. My knees were really beginning to break at this point and I will happily admit to shamefully drafting Julesy in order to not get left behind down a blustery A7.

As we approached the last 10 miles or so I was near breaking point with the pain in my knees but pleased as punch that we’d nearly done it. The last four miles, traipsing around Cumbria in a desperate mission to find a pub to celebrate in, (unsuccessfully!) were the hardest cycling I've ever done and I was so happy to see the house come into view!

(sweaty and tired but we made it to Jules' parents)

Since Julesys folks were away they hadn't left the fridge well stocked and we celebrated finishing by sharing the one beer that was there and poaching some duck eggs to have without any bread. Since we had no clothes 'til Ross arrived our post shower outfits consisted of one of Julesy's dad's jumpers and her mum's leggings. Even in our matching flattering outfits we decided it was worth popping to the coop to get some celebratory booze in whilst we waited for Ross. When he arrived we ate steak, drank good quality whiskey and went to bed awaiting stiff legs in the morning.

Thankfully my muscles weren't too stiff which was beneficial since we were off to Keswick to meet Tom and Luce and head out mountain biking at Winlatter trail park! Unfortunately whilst trying to tackle uphill terrain which I should usually be more than capable of I realised that whilst my legs were relatively fresh, my core and shoulders were not, meaning my balance was shocking and pushing over opposition as feeble as a tree route was near impossible. I still had a great time chucking myself around the berms and managed to fall off a couple of times too. Once on a very straightforward section of incline where I totally lost balance and went sliding down a banking of nettles, fishing my bike out by the rear tyre! And the second time I amused everyone by tipping off sideways to fall into a mudbath. A wee upward pointing slate paver that I didn’t keep enough momentum up on to just roll over bounced me off. Not that I’m blaming Lucy AT ALL (it was definitely her fault!) but my lack of speed on this section might have had something to do with having to slam on the brakes so as not to pile into the back of her!

(team mtb tackle the reds at Winlatter)

Somehow we managed to avoid the rain until we were back in the cars and it started to chuck it down. Impeccable luck once again! Despite missing the rain I was pretty soggy from my mud bath and the hot shower, roaring open fire and roast lamb back at Julesy's parents was something to look forward to. After a good feed and a few lush ales suffice to say it didnt take long before I was nodding off in front of the fire and had to turn in!

Sunday morning. Round 3. Poached duck eggs, porridge and coffee. The breakfasts were getting bigger! Not sure how I was still standing but we were headed to shepherds in surprising sunshine to meet Ross' pal Lindsay from Edinburgh to do some trad. I am often wrongly discerning about shepherds, assuming that people would only climb there if they had no imagination to explore the other awesome crags on offer in the area and I always think it will be mobbed with all kinds of punters queuing up to do little chamomix who's mere prescence will annoy me beyond all sensible realms to bring out my angry alter ego. This is not at all an accurate picture of how shepherds really is. Besides most of that picture being entirely wrong or at least highly exaggerated it is also completely ignoring the fantastic quality of accessible single pitch climbing of all grades on offer there. In fact, the last couple of visits I've had have been pleasantly surprising. It was certainly a good choice for a day like that Sunday, where we started relatively late, we were meeting another person (shepherds cafe is awesome) and there was a possibility the weather might crap out so we didn't want to invest too much in the walk in.

Julesy and I teamed up to start on ‘Adam’ a VS 5a that we split into two pitches, Jules taking the first pitch and me the second. The first pitch, though short, looked much easier than it was and with an unfocused seconds head on, the polished holds gave me a bit of a rude awakening to the days climbing. Props to Jules for the lead! Thankfully I’d got my shit together enough for the next pitch which I can honestly say was 25m of pure enjoyment! Properly awesome sustained climbing over steep terrain but with huge hidden jugsand brilliant situations!

With a bit of inspiration after completing that route I persuaded Jules to join me in doing ‘P.S.’ a 2 pitch E1 just to the right of Adam and Eve. I talked Jules into leading the 5a pitch to begin with, which was exciting as she had only just lead 4c for the first time the week before. I knew she was up to it so long as she kept her head and made some sensible gear choices. Her arm was twisted when I suggested I could spot a bomber #2 Camelot placement at what looked to be the crux and I was sure she’d be able to lower off this if things got too much and I needed to take over. Luckily I was right about the gear size and thankfully I was also right that Jules was more than up to the job. She placed bomber gear calmly and lead through the crux smoothly like a total pro! Nice one Jules!

My pitch comprised of climbing a short section of a steep crack, placing some bomber gear at the top of it and traversing right and making some committing, delicate moves before reaching good holes on the arete. I loved tackling the crack quickly and although the gear was bomber leaving it to move right was a little unnerving especially since the move required a static cross-through which felt like I was going to barn-door at any point. Thankfully the move was fine and really fun but unfortunately in terms of a crux it was a bit of a one-move-wonder. It was a very enjoyable route non-the-less and a great combination to do along with 'Adam' on that buttress!

Next up should have been Julesy's lead but she kindly have it up so I could have a battle with an old friend- MGC! I had seconded this route a few years ago and always fancied coming back for the lead. I knew I'd enjoy the thuggy style of climbing and although I couldn't really remember any of the beta - moves or gear - I did have the repeat ascent advantage of knowing I could do the moves clean. I was sure I was stronger than when I had seconded the route previously but there was certainly some pressure building not to fluff the moves and to find the gear, especially since Tom and Luce had now joined us at that section of the crag and had joined in the spectating (thanks to them for also shooting some cool pics whilst watching the excitement unfold).

(After pulling through the top-crux at the bulge)

A small black Alien cam and #1 Wall-nut protected the first crux for me, which I made hard for myself for stupidly forgetting to deploy a heel hook. I yarded my way up non-the-less, composed myself on the large flake, getting some bomber gear in and dispatched the next set of moves through the bulge.

(chilling after dispatching the main crux and filling the crack with gear before tackling the second crux when well rested)

Sat on top of the belay whilst Jules came up and then Tom and Luce both had a go on a rope, I smiled in disbelief. Not sure I can think of an alternative way to accurately finish this blog, so in the danger of sound like a stuck record...ANOTHER truly fantastic weekend. Jesus its going to be emotional leaving in two weeks!

What next...I'll be seeing Sarah for some 30th hip-hop celebrations next weekend and with this string of good luck surely Ross and I will get to go and do the needle...all I can say is watch this space!! There's adventures to be squeezed in yet!

[jadelittlewood]

Why does life get really good just as your about to change it??

In case your in any doubt, that is a rhetorical question! This musing has manifested from a recent string of really fun times that are making life in Scotland pretty damn sweet at the moment. Too bad I’m moving to Vancouver in 7 and a half weeks! And only in relation to the brilliant times with brilliant friends will you ever hear me mention that as a bad thing. Aside from everyday life seeming to just run smoothly and happily for once, one of the summers more recent highlights was a trip to Arran at the weekend with a great, game for an adventure crew of Sam, Fi, Ross and Jules. I, until recently had been committing the abhorrent crime for any selfproclaimed outdoor adventurer in the Scottish central belt, of never having been to the Isle of Arran before, let alone done any of the reputated climbing it has to offer. For £11.50 on Calmac ferries you can get a return from Ardrossan out to Brodick. Intersecting trains regularly run to and from Glasgow to the harbour in Ardrossan, making a trip to the island pretty damn accessible. I had no excuses! A hidden free weekend among my hectic June schedule tied in nicely with Fionas suggestion to coincide a trip over with her work colleagues cycling wknd and my mind was racing about the possibility of managing to do south ridge direct. South ridge direct is the 13 pitch VS graded route taking the stunning ridge line of Rosa pinnacle on Cir Mhor rising out of the back of the Glen Rosa valley. Its has been on my radar for ages and I often read the guide book in awe hoping to get over and do it. It is a route that was certainly on my ever increasing ‘before I go to Canada’ hit list. The weather gods seemed to for once be on board with my plans and the weekend was shaping up to be awesome.

('The Girls!'...on the ferry)

After nerve rackingly handing my notice in at work that Friday (in preparation for Canada) I headed over to Ardrossan straight after work from Ayr. Elated to have a metaphorical weight off my shoulders but pretty laden down with a huge pack full off ropes and rack and camping gear to carry on my bike. See, the thing about Arran, which always made the idea of it ever more inticing to me, was that the use of a car is pretty superfluous, especially if you plan to climb in the Rosa valley, at £90 a pop to get your vehicle onto the ferry it would be pretty damn stupid in my opinion. The Glen Rosa campsite is only a couple of miles from the ferry terminal by road and the further you can get up the track past the start of the campsite the better the camping and the shorter the walk in to the Glen Rosa climbing. Taking a bike makes this an altogether more viable option, not to mention more fun! Having heard various different accounts of what was possible on what kind of bike and given the varied limitations of our teams cycling equipment I eventually decided to take over my canondale tourer. I heard that the path to just beyond the boundary of the campsite was a friendly Forrestry track, so friendly that a friend had done it on a Brompton! So I had a fair idea that the canondale would make it to at least there. Since Sam and Fi only had old steel comuting bikes I figured it was kinda pointless taking the mountain bike, we would be restricted to how far in they could get on those bikes and I would also be hindering my luggage allowance without the use of a panier rack. The way we did it worked fine, the path was certainly ‘road tyre’ friendly for a good couple of Km and although it got a bit more technical reaching the bridge and beyond, it was nothing our game team couldn’t handle. It actually felt more heroic on crap city bikes battened up to the nines with unstable panier luggage and was great fun! It has to be said that Ross and Jules did let team shoddy cycles down a little bit with their fancy mountain bikes, although it certainly seemed to make life much easier on some of the more technical terrain. The only problem was that with no panier rack you were either reliant on the resilience of friends to take a load of the kit on their paniers or burdened by trying to carry two packs awkwardly on your fit for purpose mountain bike, rendering it, well, less fit for purpose.

In summation Of the biking/camping situation, then in future I would either do as we did; take the tourers and panier up, restricting the camping to nearer the bridge. OR, get super organised (probably preferably between two of you) with gear and food before hand, making sure you have no surplus stuff so that you can fit everything into one large rucksack enabling you to reap the agility benefits of taking a mountain bike. Even in the latter scenario I reckon you’d have to be a fairly skilled mountain biker to make a faster ascent of the terrain beyond the bridge than someone on foot to make it worth while. We therefore camped in a lush spot, beyond the bridge, just across the river. Crossing this with kit was pretty exciting!! And upon realising the length of day we were going to endure on the South Ridge Direct quickly hit the sack.

Waking at 6am after a dodgey nights sleep to realise that Sam had forgotten an essential bit of coffee making equipment was a serious blow to the psyche until Ross and Jules remedied the situation with their surprisingly passable instant stuff. Having pulled it back from the edge of ‘game over’ realms psyche was increasing to an all time high just as the midgies hit base camp and chased us up and out onto the trudge to the bottom of the route. Although I reckon the walk in was still a good 1.30/1.45 hours from where we camped this passed pretty quickly as most of it was on reasonably flat ground, winding up the side of the glen with stunning views of the ridge and pinnacle awaiting us. Thanks to another team of 3 who managed to beat us to the early rise we managed to find the start of the route pretty easily, having dumped our packs under a boulder just off the path so only the seconds had to climb with extra weight, we scrambled up to the other party. Things were slow to get started as the team of three took a little while to get ahead and Ross and Jules were given pol-position out of our crew since, especially as a two, they would be faster than us. Unfortunately Sam went a little off route when getting our team off the ground by leading the first pitch and took a while to get to the belay. It didnt matter in the slightest as the gap that was now between us and Ross and Jules just meant there definitely wasn’t any danger of getting stuck behind them higher up the route and besides, we were unlikely to be caught out by darkness since night barely fell during these long days! After giving Fi and I enough time to put the world to rights on the ground belay Sam brought me up on second, allowing me to rack up and be ready to set off as Fi reached the belay.

(I must be sick of Fi's chat, waiting for Sam to finish the first pitch)

Next up was my leading of S-crack which was totally amazing. The rock is highly textured allowing plenty of smears for your feet accompanied by alternate jams for your hands and as much pro as your rack could give (namely size 1 and 2 cams). Finding the S-crack reasonably straight forward, I tried to be fairly sparing with the gear I put in. I was hoping I could lead the S and Y pitches together but knew that filling the S-crack with kit would leave my rack sparse for the tougher thuggier ‘Y’ pitch and also increase the drag. My tactic worked well and happily a piece of fixed gear protected the crux of the Y so the cams I’d saved were beneficial back ups. The climbing was very thuggy, a short jamming move into a rounded mantle which I don’t reckon I’d have got many style points for but I managed to squirm my way over with only a couple of moments where I thought I was gonna peel off backwards. Bringing Fi and Sam up on a reverso worked pretty efficiently and I was well impressed at their speedy seconds, with packs on and all.

(Belaying after leading the 'S' and 'Y' cracks together)

Well. That was the crux done. Although the route tapered off in technical grade quite considerably after this point,in did not in one bit detract from its brilliance, as I thought it may have. Even the more scrambly pitches were stunning! Amass a sea of slabby granite with the sun glistening on it. Way finding was relatively straight forward, taking an extract of Gary Latter’s description was very useful, and I would say for the most part following this kept us on track. We had settled into a good system of me leading and bringing the other two up on a Reverso together to save time on easier ground. And on Sam’s leads, where she didn't use a Reverso, I would second first to be able to rack up and get ready to go almost as soon as Fi hit the belay. I’m not suggesting we were uber quick or anything, quite the contrary, but I was pleased having been labeled ‘climbing mum’ by Sam and Fi that as far as rope work and way finding went I only caused one little hiccup with tangled ropes and this was sorted quickly. In fact the climb had a relaxed and fun feel to it the whole time with lots of daft chat and even the occasional outburst into song. Not sure Ross and Jules enjoyed our rendition of Cher from the pen-ultimate belay ledge as much as we did!!

(Fi, Sam and I celebrating in song after de-tangling the ropes at the penultimate belay)

(Ross looking like a boss leading the lay-back pitch with his sunglasses on)

The lay-back pitch was another stunning 25 metres of climbing and the chimney pitch that Sam heroically lead gave a good punch for a pitch that had no technical grade. Fi earned herself some serious hero points seconding this wriggling pitch with a back pack on and fantastically avoided having a ‘greet’ even at the most frustrating moments. I would be lying if I tried to pretend that lots of obscenities weren’t directed at the ‘f-ing’ arsehole back pack though!! We topped out at around what must have been 8pm. A good while after Ross and Jules, who we were hoping were on a mission on their swish bikes, sans heavy kit, to town to pick up some well needed beers. After picking up the path down to collect our dumped packs and cooling our crippled feet in the burn on the way down we arrived back at the tent around dusk, totally exhausted, with no Ross or Jules in sight. Upon piling into our tent to hastily avoid the ravenous midgies that seemed to be out in full force, we found Ross and Jules, also hiding out and with a massive pan of dinner on for all of us AND beers chilled from the river! Totally overwhelmed by this very kind act, and grateful since we didn’t really have the brainpower to rub together between the three of us to coordinate making a meal, everybody tucked into some cracking grub prepared by ‘camp mum’ Jules. We just about managed to stay awake long enough to drink a beer together, swapping stories from the day and route beta and then collapsed for the night, glad at the thought of a Sunday morning lie-in. Despite being psyched for more climbing on the Sunday and some more beautiful weather, with a consensus toward getting the penultimate ferry, rather than the last, due to a few folks commitments to work on Monday we collectively decided that it would be much more chilled to have a relaxing breakfast and pack up and spend some time exploring the island on the bikes. We headed over to Lamlash and managed to find a perfect pier to jump our semi-naked, midgie-bitten, jamming-scarred and sunburnt bodies in the soothing but freezing sea. After picnicking, ice creaming and finally pinting in a beer garden we headed back to the ferry with little doubt in anyone’s mind that after such a long day on the Saturday, we had spent Sunday in the best way! Yet another truly awesome weekend.

Other salient points of my recently happy life have been a climbing trip to the lakes on bank holiday wknd: great climbing company and weather not to mention more wild water underwear swimming. Evening cragging at Loudoun hill. Bike riding. Lots of laughs despite the rain camping at fife for mine and Anna’s birthday and general good people coordinating into good times.

(Wild swimming (dipping) on the way back from climbing at Pavey Ark, lakes district)

I’ve met some awesome new friends and really been enjoying seeing more of the old ones. I am about to leave this all behind to move to Canada in what is now 8 weeks time where I’ll have no job, no house and know hardly anyone. Its certainly going to be hard to leave that all behind. Sometimes I wish I could have left a bit earlier, a few months after this Canadian dream started brewing in my head, when times were awful and I needed and escape. But then when I mull over it more, I realise it has already given me an escape. An escape from my thoughts in the here and now, allowing me to look toward the future. An escape from having to take any of lifes stresses in the current life too seriously. And that, ironically, is what has allowed these recent good times. The way I’ve started to look at it is; I’m going to Canada and that’s a greatly exciting thing. Surely it’s still much better to have a great time before I leave than a rubbish one?

[jadelittlewood]

Riding bikes: the cannondale at its optimal set up

The bike I call my tourer, the Cannondale, has been seeing some action of late. I got it for free as it was passed down to me through two kind guys, both called Steve. Its an old M300 aluminium framed mountain bike with fixed forks and is reasonably light and strong. When some low-life’s broke into my close last year and kicked in the rear derailleur hanger and rear wheel and took off with the front, I decided to spend some money doing it up, since I got it for nothing and also because I was building a fixie, which would become my new commuter. This was also around the time I had resided to the fact that my little old knees were too knackered to be able to run enough to get the cardio-hit I wanted/needed, so I would need to do more cycling. Little did I realise that riding the bike more and striving for the optimal set up would become such an obsession! I posted last year when I had updated the steering set up by buying a new bar and stem and head set converter. The frame geometry of the mountain bike actually makes it fairly perfect for touring, more up-right and comfortable for longer distances and I see that most euros do their touring on 26” wheels! However some components on it were a bit big for me and meant I was quite stretched riding it. These components were also quite heavy and clunky as they were from the early 90’s. With the fancy carbon bar ends I bout last year I have a few different hand positions available without having to succumb to those god awful butterfly bars or emptying my bank account buying new brakes and gear shifters to fit drops. The shorter stem and cut bar help to bring in my elbows though for a better position when I attempt to hit higher speeds. For the moment I cant afford to buy a fancy new road bike so this bike also does me for day rides which are usually between 30-70miles. It’s great and I love riding it, the only problem has been that its just not as fast as a modern road bikes no matter what I do to it and that hinders my ability to accompany more serious roadie friends. I did my Scottish touring trip with a very heavy rear wheel (which was kindly donated when my other was kicked in) and a beastly Shwalbe marathon slick tyre that both added quite a bit of rotational weight. Realising that this probably slowed me down quite a bit the hopes I’d had of being able to accompany friends on their fancy carbon road bikes on rides out once in a while started to fade. i decided to make some more changes to at least acheive the optimal setup the bike could offer and give myself an easier time on my next touring trip. I gradually bought two new wheels (the first back when the bike got vandalised) with two brand new slick tyres. The wheels were a steal at a low price of just over £110 for the pair! The SRAM 406 range cnc’d for rim brakes and finally two continental gatorskin slicks with a low volume of just 1.25 (pretty skinny for mtb!)

(new optimal setup)

To justify my purchases and ensure I get my endurance cardio hit regularly I have been trying to cycle home from work at least once a week on the cannondale. Bearing in mind my current job is in Ayr and I live in Glasgow, that provides a decent 40mile ride to get home. The first time I did this ride was way back in march and pre-clocks going forward. It was freezing and dark so to test the water caught the train to Irvine and cycled from there,giving a route of about 30miles. The roads were pleasant enough and shortening the route meant I only had to do the last 8miles through the city in the pitch black. It was totally freezing though and despite wearing 2 pairs of leggings, 4 top layers,fleecy gloves and a buff, the wind chill provided on the descent into newton mearns left my fingers so numb that I spent the rest of the ride constantly swapping hands to shake the other fingers out. I had never experienced hot aches on a bike before! This however did not deter me and the next week I decided to sack off the train and just cycle straight from Ayr. I came prepared though with a change of base layer (so as not to freeze on the descent) and a similar tactic with swapping my sweaty fleecy gloves at the top of the climb for warm,dry, mountaineering mits for the downhill. Combined with my winter balaclava and lots of Jelly babies to generate energy and keep me warm I managed not to freeze as much. The ride felt like a proper epic adventure though, it took me not much shorter than 4hours since the route was reasonably convoluted (trying to stick to nice wee roads isn’t too direct!) and I kept having to stop and check where I was, but also because half the ride over the moors was in the pitch black and I didnt fancy bouncing out of an unseen pothole to fall off and injure myself where in an area where I might not be discovered! By the time I’d come back from my holiday in Greece the temps were a tad warmer and the nights lighter. I attempted the route again with the new addition of one new tyre on the front and a new, light rear wheel including low volume slick tyre. The combination of the longer evening light, more accommodating temps and my new seas wheel saw me do the ride in under 3hours. I was pretty happy with that. Last week I did the ride yet again but with the finally optimal set up of two matching wheels,matching tyres and all the other components I mentioned previously working well.

(view back over white loch, about to start the descent leg into newton mearns)

The bike was a true joy to ride and the route felt reasonably cruisey. I felt really good knowing the setup was as complete as it can be for the moment and I’m looking forward to getting out more and more on my bespoke 90s touring bike. I think there is a Cumbria ride in the pipeline with Jules and she has just bought a fancy new bike so I’d better get training so I can prove that my little mish-mash bike can do the job and keep up!

[jadelittlewood]

Keeping momentum, the Galloway Sea cliffs and the start of trad 2013

Because logistics and weather worked in our favour, Fraz and I made a couple of trips down to the Dumfries and Galloway area recently. The first in late February to Dumfries area (Meikle Ross and Corwar) where we seemed to snatch favourable conditions out of a cold but sunny winters weekend and the second to Stranraer area, rather hectically sandwiched between moving house and heading away to Kalymnos over the Easter weekend. The second saw us head to a campsite just outside of Stranraer on the Saturday night. Due to continued cold temps without the promise of sunshine to help we wussed out on the wild camping in favour of a hot shower. The Rhinns campsite was pretty reasonable with a good shower block and very friendly owners. The plan was to climb at Laggantulloch on the Sunday and Portobello sea cliffs on the Monday but unfortunately chilly winds left us with few options for sheltered zawns at Laggantulloch. Lunch bay and main cliff were what we had hoped for but hoodlum bay seemed to provide most shelter from the biting wind. Unfortunately not enough to get Fraz past the first couple of moves on his chosen e1 warm up. His hands and muscles were just too cold. I took one for the team by jumping on ‘The oyster thief’ an HVS I’d hoped to warm up on anyway. It was a fine route but gave me a good battle as I fiddled wires in with severely numb fingers and lay-backed a crack system, of which I had too little feeling in my hands to establish how positive it was, I hoped reasonably so!

(Me attempting to get warmed up on ‘The oyster theif’ HVS, Hoodlum bay Laggauntulloch)

After that we sacked off Laggantulloch, headed back to the car and enjoyed warming up on the drive to Portobello. After getting the car stuck in a minute amount of snow on the track to the crag and rescuing it with a shovel borrowed from a local we only managed another route between us after that days faffing.

(The car stuck in the most riduculously small amount of snow)

Still reasonably pleased just to have got some climbing done we hunkered back in the tent for some rest whilst planning to head back to Portobello the next day for more of the same- sheltered crags! We woke up feeling pretty awful and cold and not too inspired from the previous days attempts and headed into Portpatrick to find a nice warm cafe. It took a few coffees to gain enough psyche to head back to the crag with even a smidgen of hope that we wouldn’t end up freezing our asses off and faffing around again like the day before.

This time we headed to Cracked block cove where we were able to do some routes that didn’t start in the sea. Fraz put in a great effort on St. Elmo’s fire, E2 start which was a very enjoyable second whilst I faffed around (again) down climbing Thunderbolt (HVS) since I only had one number 3 Camalot sized piece of protection with me making the top half of the climb virtually un-protectable. The starting moves were very cool though and it was an inspirational line that I would like to come back and do with better protection!

(The cool line of Thunderbolt, next time!)

Feeling a bit put out by my failing efforts on lead I decided to get on ‘A close shave’ a crumbly looking (but suprisingly not) E1 on the fluted wall to the right side of the cracked block. It was a bit of an endurance battle, shaking out where possibly to have enough left to place gear on a the slightly overhanging terrain. A battle I won though and was pleased to get my first E1 for the season under my belt. So although quantity wasn’t the outcome of the trip it was cool to get some more trad in and get a bit familiar with rock again before heading away to Greece, to climb on rock nothing like that of the Greywhacke in Galloway and in a style that required techniques very dissimilar to trad!

Returning from Greece I just wanted to rest! I wasn’t particularly tired, but I kinda felt like I should do something other than climbing or outdoor activities. I’d planned to chill out that weekend and just catch up on washing etc, maybe meet a few mates for pints. But when I contacted all my pals they were all up for doing something active! Anna suggested a bike ride from hers in Edinburgh on Sunday and when Fraz insisted the weather would be warm and dry and good for cragging on Saturday - and above that he could drop me and my bike at Anna's after in Edinburgh -  I realised that doing washing could definitely wait and that I was actually surprisingly psyched to keep up the momentum and get out climbing. Fraz and I headed out to Cambusbarron after a much needed 8am lie-in on Saturday and we had a great day! After pretty much finishing up all the E1s I’d not lead/cleaned before I decided to have a battle with Gobi roof, I’d seconded Fraz on the route a couple years ago and remember thinking I could nail the crux on lead if I remembered the beta, plus it was very well protected, with at least two bomber cams to be had in the break. So I stepped up on the sharp end, I remembered the beta, but managed to forget that even with the beta the crux was pretty damn balancy and hard. I fell off. If I was going for the on-sight I might have been a bit miffed, but since I’d already seconded it I didn't mind so much. I lowered off, and went again from the ground. This time slapping for the good hold I was surprised to find myself still on the route! The rest of the route was straightforward enough, just had to keep my head together! Pretty pleased to do my first E2 lead, inspiration was quickly filling my head of which route at that grade I should try and on-sight now!

(Getting psyched for 'Gobi roof')

My success seemed to influence Fraz to try an e3 at the back of the quarry and tackle it with confidence and ease. A great day all round! An amazing quiche at Anna's and meringue pudding courtesy of Ian refueled me enough to go for a 50mile bike ride the next day.

The next weekend was Sam's birthday and another trip was on the cards. With the north looking wet and cold and looking for a cool wild camping spot with great views for some inclusive birthday fun we were to head to Portobello, again! Although I’m always up for mixing it up and getting to places I’ve not been before I had no objections of returning to the Galloway sea cliffs, the weather was looking great for the Saturday, there was plenty still to do climbing wise and with good food, good beer and good company good times were to ensue! The Saturday worked out great, we got there about 11am and dumped the bags at camp (a beautiful spot right on the coast, metres from the climbing) for the others to be able to see us and headed off to find a route to get started on. I did have a moment of doubt about the success of the day when we realised that a lot of the routes were more tidal than we anticipated and I was forced to climb a ‘no starred’ HVS to get us going. The line looked quite good though and the route was certainly pleasant enough to get things started. Luckily the others then turned up which gave us a good excuse to kill some time waiting for the sea to do its thing whilst we helped them unload the cars. Ross and I saw our cue to go see if the E2 he had his eye on was out the sea when the others started to try and put up Karen's ginormous tent! Luckily it was, we got out of helping and got a route done! The tent was up and the others came to join us just as we were topping out.

We all headed round to a then dry U-boat pen where Sam and I climbed in unison on our respective lines right next to each other. I was on the water margin, which I had had my eye on for ages, and looked really cool, but totally not my style (delicate slab with reasonably sparse pro) and Sam was leading the VS next to it which followed a cool looking crack up similar terrain, I was jealous of her protection options! The move to get on to the water margin was hard and improbable but I headed up to the pocket hoping it was better than it looked. Encouragement from everyone really helped, being at the crag together was really great and made it even more fun. Thankfully the pocket was really good but the feet were still crap, just smears that kept popping, so I was basically resting on the juggy pocket. I knew I needed to get some gear in as the next moves also looked thin but the trick was to do this without blocking the only good hold. A number 6 wall-nut in the back of the pocket did nicely. I climbed quickly passed the next little two-finger pocket and on to the break where I knew I could cram in multiple runners. I did this and hit the home straight to join Sam on a cosy belay at the top. As I brought Ross up I also got to watch Fi and Colin make light work of seconding the VS.

(On the home straight, pleased to have a plethora of gear in the break)

The rest of the day saw us at shark fin bay where Ross bravely lead the overhanging arete of 'Water Dance' in a true sport climber style, cruising the moves and placing about 2 pieces of gear. In his defense, there wasn’t all that much more to be had! Sam had a battle with 'Muscle bound' and after a good effort eventually conceded and hopped right to finish up the HS. The move over the lip did look a bit committing and a bit blind. Wanting to make the most of the evening sun knowing Sundays weather might not permit anymore climbing, let alone the chance of a hangover to stop us, I greedily asked Ross to belay me on 'Silence of the clams', it took a line right to the top of the crag that encountered an interesting looking roof and a massive nest just below the crux. Hoping to avoid the nest completely I was a little intimidated to look down and see three massive birds giving me the evils only about a metre and a half away. Luckily the jugs through the roof made the going straightforward enough to move past them quickly and avoid getting covered in spew. It was also lucky for them as there was an awful stench coming off them that was turning my stomach a bit and any longer it might have been me covering them in boke! Moving from the break at the top of the roof proved to be the crux and required a bit more thought and cunning balance than I had anticipated. Once I’d worked it out it was easy enough to commit and get to the next set of good holds leading to the top out. Ross followed with ease even with a huge rucksack on, which I aided our quick get away back to the camp and beer having had a long and fulfilling day.

(The team all climbing together at U-boat pen, Portobello)

We enjoyed a campfire and a BBQ that night and headed back up the road leisurely on the Sunday in the imminent downpour, satisfied we had made the most of the weekends good weather. My run of momentum so far this year has been really satisfying, its really good to be getting out reasonably regularly and seeing the positive effects. Its also great to be exploring new parts of Scotland. I just hope the weather, life and injuries all play ball so that this can continue and I can hopefully explore north a bit as well as south!