Six Months of Real Mountains

Half way through the year and with the Cuillin munros recently completed, it seems like a good time to take stock of my progress in the mountains this year. The big difference compared with 2013 is the frequency with which I’ve managed to get up to Wales and Scotland. Over 12 days since January I have covered a distance of one hundred and fifty eight kilometres, climbed thirteen thousand four hundred and fifty metres in aggregate (roughly one and a half times the height of Everest) and and added twenty one munros and six furths to my tally.

Cuillin, June 2014

My trip to Skye earlier this month (a full account of which is posted to my Walk Highlands page ) undoubtedly marks a high point in my experience of the mountains of Scotland. The exposed scrambles and roped climbs involved in attaining summits such as Sgurr nan Gillean and the Inaccessible Pinnacle will remain firmly etched in my memory forever. Sharing those memories with friends and colleagues recently (e-mailing them links to my Flickr gallery of the Skye trip ) elicited some interesting responses. All admired the photographs, many were stunned by the beauty of the landscape and a few were of course alarmed at the thought of heading into that sort of terrain for fun. The most interesting response came from an Austrian colleague. Whilst admiring the pictures, he suggested that if I wanted to climb a ‘real mountain’ rather than a ‘hill’ (which he observed was almost rivalled in height by a hideous looking Arabian skyscraper called the Burj Khalifa) then I should head to Alps where he would be happy to suggest some via ferrata for me to try.

Inaccessible Pinnacle, June 2014

It was interesting for me to see how the mountains of the UK are sometimes perceived by people who have grown up in the shadow of much higher peaks. I had no hesitation in explaining to him that while the mountains of Scotland pose no danger of altitude sickness they are certainly not be underestimated and should be approached with the respect and caution that any mountain deserves – especially in winter. It’s easy to forget that many munro days (especially on the West coast) start at or near sea level. Routes are frequently pathless and the weather, well…. (I’m sure there’s a German word for ‘dreich’). I pointed out to my Austrian colleague that an ascent of the Grossglockner (Austria’s highest point) begins at a car park that itself is located above the 2000m contour. Thus, the climb to its summit involves around 1900m of ascent. By contrast, a full traverse of the Cuillin ridge involves around 3000m of climbing (about the same as a climb of the Matterhorn from Cervinia). Of course alpine ascents and munro bagging are not to be compared. These are different objectives with high altitude, snow climbs and glacier crossings changing the equation altogether. But it’s easy to see how the relatively low altitude of British mountains can deceive people who are used to loftier ranges.

Bla-Bheinn, June 2014

One thing the alpine climber doesn’t have to contend with is the dreaded midge. During the week in Skye I had my first encounters with Culicoides impunctatus and was extremely glad of my head net. OK, I’ll admit that it’s not a look that’s likely to take off on the catwalk any time soon but it’s a really effective way to keep the little buggers at bay. The onset of midge season also seems to coincide with the mass arrival of tourists in the Highlands. I noticed on the drive to and from Skye many more cars and caravans on the road than I had seen earlier in the year. So, despite my desperation to bag more munros I expect to delay my next visit to the Highlands at least until September when I hope the midges will be biting less, and the roads will be quieter.

4.45 am and 636 miles to home

In the meantime, I will set my sights on Snowdonia. Having enjoyed the scrambles on Skye so much I plan to take on Tryfan and the Glyders later in July. My sense of achievement in upping my munro count (from 3 to 24 in the space of a few months) is sometimes matched by feelings of frustration that the mountains aren’t a little bit nearer. A weekend in Wales means 5 hours in the car each way and a Highland trip (whether arriving by plane or train) is inevitably a wager on the weather of at least £200 in non-refundable fares. That said, being in London has its advantages too. It’s clearly too far to reach Scotland by car in a weekend and the flight options are good. In October a new service to Inverness opens from London City so with any luck, this coming winter will see a couple of weekend expeditions into the Cairngorms.

Since starting this blog in March I have received 350 views from readers as far away as Malaysia and the United States. Whoever you are, thank you for reading. I look forward to sharing more mountain adventures with you in the months to come.

24 down, 258 to go

Incompleatist, 29 June 2014

 

 

 

 

Preparing for the Cuillin

So far this year I have managed one big mountain trip from London every month. In June, I face my biggest challenge yet: the Black Cuillin. Britain’s most fearsome and impressive mountain range, my ambition is to climb all eleven of the munros on the main ridge during the course of the first week in June. I will join a group guided by Richard ‘Paddy’ McGuire, with whom I climbed Blaven in October 2012. As exciting as a single traverse of the entire ridge would be, I suspect that for the moment, such an undertaking (even with a guide) may be a step too far. Splitting the ridge into sections, I hopefully stand a better chance of bagging all the principal summits and gain some route flexibility to work around the notoriously fickle Skye weather.

Dreaming of Skye, original LNER lithograph by Austin Cooper

When I’m not climbing mountains, I’m often thinking about climbing them – and I have been dreaming of the Cuillin for nearly two years. I will never forget my first sight of them, from the shores of Loch Coruisk after taking a boat across the water from Elgol in 2012. The dark, jagged peaks stand menacingly between loch and sea. Their summits are sharp and exaggerated. These are mountains as I might have drawn them as a child. At home in London, I have hanging on the wall a lithograph printed for the London and North Eastern Railway Company in the 1930s that depicts the classic view of Sgurr nan Gillean from Sligachan. The giant poster transports me mentally to the mountains on days when I am stuck at sea level, dreaming.

Route planning, May 2014

Normally, before a mountain trip, I will dedicate hours to careful route planning, breaking my routes into sections, calculating distances, times and bearings. To date, I have not planned route cards for the Cuillin. Going onto the ridge in a guided group, I could give myself the luxury of not planning route cards at all. However, between now and the start of June I will attempt to make some anyway. It is a good discipline that focuses the mind on the challenge ahead. It will also be interesting to find out if I select similar routes to those planned by Paddy. If I do, I will gain some confidence in my route planning ability. An inspection of the Harvey 1:25000 map of the area reveals the complexity of the terrain and abundant exposure.

These boots were made for scrambling, and that’s just what they’ll do

The notorious Inaccessible Pinnacle holds a fair degree of dread for me. I am principally a walker, not a climber. I hope though, that experience gained on some rock climbs in Applecross in 2012 and the scramble along Crib Goch in 2013 will set me in reasonable stead. I suspect that the exposed, unroped scrambling sections of the ridge may prove more terrifying than the In Pinn itself. The physical challenge is also not to be underestimated. Most recently I clocked up 37k with almost 3000m of climbing over two days and coped well but certainly felt exhausted the next day. I hope that my fitness will stand up to 4 consecutive mountain days, with maybe 1200m climbing each day.

The Cuillin – counting down the days

Right now I am a mixture of nerves and excitement. Only four more days in the office and a day’s drive separate me from what I hope will be my most thrilling mountain experience yet. I really can’t wait!