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Our initial drive out to Field and the Icefields Parkway was full of excitement as we looked out the car windows at the icefalls. With crooked necks and swerving across the road we tried to see which ones were touching down and which ones weren’t. We felt the anticipation you get when a big icefall is just round the next bend and you’re seeing it for the first time. Our hearts sank as we rounded a couple of these bends in the road and then further on we rounded another and took a sharp intake of breath and jammed the brakes on. There it was all shimmering blue/white in the afternoon sun and looking in great shape - long, steep and very intimidating. We could just make out a couple of climbers on the top pitches, looking like dots on a huge white sea of ice. This is what dreams are made of, what the Rockies are famous for and what has drawn us back year after year. Polar Circus is one of those all-time classic routes that you’ve just got to climb if you find yourself out in the Rockies, fit and climbing at the grade. The technical crux of the route is climbing the final vertical pillar just when you’re completely knackered. To get to the last pitch you’ve already climbed over nine pitches of ice, all grade 4 and above, and will have moved over general mountaineering ground in between. All in all it’s a tiring day, full of adventure and with a real big mountain feel. It’s a route we’d wanted to climb for a while and we couldn’t stop talking about it on the way back to Banff.
We had a fitful excited sleep and then woke up an hour before the alarm, broke into our iced-up hire car and headed off. We sat silent in our mobile fridge fully kitted up, feeling the car slowly thawing out and watching the snow falling down in front of our headlights. The snow flurries sparkled like glitter in the cars lights as we drove through the dark in the early hours. An hour later we pulled up into the lay-by below the route, alongside the only other car we’d seen all morning. The car already in the lay-by had its interior lights on and we could see 2 climbers making the most of the warmth inside and getting ready to leave. We parked up alongside them, pushed the front seats back to give us enough room to get our boots on, and started to get ourselves ready. The doors slammed from the car next to us and we watched the other climbers head off into the frozen darkness. We watched and with every breath they took, they exhaled warm air which condensed in the cold morning air, engulfing their faces in huge clouds only to then disappear quickly above them. We followed a few minutes later breathing slowly so not to allow the cold air to burn our throats. A short way along the track we bumped into the two climbers on their way back. A brief exchange of words and we felt it was just too much for them and watched them head back to their car. We couldn’t believe our luck, we were now the only ones on the route, the most famous route in the world! Luck was definitely on our side.
The ice on the way up the first pitch was rock solid, but with numerous ascents over the past few days, small pockets gave way to smiles, first time placements and then a cry of joy at the top of the pitch. We slowly gained height and the deep canyon we were in started to spiral down beneath us. Each pitch had a character of its own, but all led up to a huge amphitheatre, opening out to the final three steep pitches. An impressive cascade of ice over 150m high rose above us barring our way to the summit. We looked down into the valley and could just make out our hire car, which had taken on matchbox type proportions below us. The sun reflected off the back windscreen hinting of some warmer weather just around the corner. Deep in the canyon we had yet to feel the warmth from the sun that much of the valley had enjoyed for most of the day. We rested and had some food before tackling the final pitches and were greeted by the sun, which arrived as if all of a sudden someone turned on a huge light bulb and shone it directly into your eyes. It was so bright, more so than normal, reflecting off the ice in every direction, even to squint and look though narrow eye slits it hurt. The warmth from the sun soon revitalized our tired muscles and we set off again. The ice quickly softened and the final pitches were the best you’d find anywhere, with the ice both steep, intimidating and thousands of feet above the valley bottom. Leaving the belay on the final pillar with cramp in my arms, I looked down at Dean who was looking up smiling. We both knew we’d be on top shortly, living a dream. A full rope length led to the top anchors and then elation. Dean arrived at the belay and we soaked up the views. Our emotion at the top was one that you only get from having a great adventure on a climb you’ve always dreamed about. The descent was silent almost automatic having abseiled hundreds of times together. Back at the car it started to sink in as we both looked back up at the route we’d just climbed. The journey back to Banff had four changes at the wheel as we both had trouble keeping our eyes open. The fact that we’d only stepped off the plane 2 days earlier and the physical nature of the route had caught up with us. Only eleven days of the trip to go, so what next? A few beers didn’t go amiss!
Giant Sea Cliffs on Tenerife by Pat Littlejohn It was just like the picture in the travel book. A little boat moored beneath gigantic ochre-coloured cliffs which seemed to smoulder in the evening sun. Knowing nothing about the rock, we sat on the harbour wall at Los Gigantes and sketched an imaginary line up the steepest and cleanest part of the cliff. We would only do one climb, so it must take the best quality line, forging directly up the open faces, grooves and cracks. In our dreams! The cliff was soon to cut us down to size.
Rising to 600m and extending for 10km along the SW coast of Tenerife, El Risco de Los Gigantes is the biggest vertical sea cliff in southern Europe and North Africa. According to the tourist guidebooks there are even bigger ‘sea cliffs’ in the Canaries but to the climber the others aren’t true cliffs, more like the steep vegetated slopes of Slieve League in Ireland. First day we planned to make a reconnaissance by traversing along the base of the cliff from the port of Los Gigantes. Before long we discovered that there was an aqueduct running exactly we wanted to go, about 50 ft up, and we made rapid progress following this for about a mile. It ended at a stream way which emerged from a hanging valley. We tried to traverse beyond but were but were stopped by the sea, so we followed the stream way and found that the aqueduct continued across the cliff at a higher level, about 200m up. Here it took the form of an old steel pipe which was fractured in places and no longer carried water. Going along it was like a very scary via ferrata with no protection, with just the pipe to grab if you slipped or the ledge you were on crumbled, which it often did. There was a section of climbing around a gated section, and then it swung round to the main bit of the cliff, a huge amphitheatre with a couloir at the back. We looked at several lines and decided that the couloir was the only feasible route as far as the pipeline, above which there looked to be more options. It was too late to begin climbing so we decided to carry on along the pipe. This ended in a 300m crawl through a tunnel in pitch darkness, arms and shoulders aching with the weight of rucksacks full of ropes and climbing gear, till we finally we emerged in a hanging valley behind the main cliff and climbed up to the jagged ridge forming the clifftop. The way off from here involved hours of ridge climbing (‘half the bloody Cuillin Ridge’) to a point over 1000m above the sea before we could head back towards the port of Los Gigantes. A knackering day but now we had grasped the scale of the place.
Next day we hitched a ride with a diving team in a big inflatable, straight to the base of the line. The couloir led to the pipe in 5 pitches, two of which were ‘XS’. [So far the XS grade seems to be a peculiarly British phenomenon. Normal trad climbing grades apply to rock that most people would consider to be OK for climbing. Sure you can get an E3,5b like Wendigo on Gogarth where the rock might be a little worrying but the standard system caters for this. In some parts of the country however (most notably the coasts of North Cornwall and the Lleyn Peninsula in North Wales) there is another category of climb on rocks which have always been considered unsuitable for climbing - too loose, too soft, too brittle. This is the home of the ‘XS’. These climbs may not be that hard technically but they are demanding in every other way – strenuous, serious, committing, hard to protect, needing good judgement and experience. For their size they usually represent a ‘big adventure’ and this is their attraction. Los Gigantes is ‘XS’ territory on a grand scale.] Back on the climb, above the pipeline the rock improved and a pleasant rib followed by an exciting E4 pitch led to the base of a deep recess. That was it for the day so we abbed back to the pipeline and followed it back to the port. Pre-dawn start next day as we thought we might make the top. Regained highpoint by 10 am, easy pitch to the back of the recess then started up the massively overhanging chimney which led to its lip, some 100 ft away and about 60 ft out in space. The rock was the worst yet, everything you touched or stood on broke away, and the only protection was a couple of slings draped around loose material precariously wedged. After 10 metres I decided it was madness (‘the chimney from hell!’) and reversed amid a shower of debris. We abbed back to the pipeline. Some 100m to the right was another possible line. I led a deceptively steep pitch up to a cave with a poor belay. Steve led through but was stopped by a crumbling overhang. (‘What do you make of the rock Steve?’ ‘On a scale of one to ten I’d give it one’.) I gave the pitch a try but bad gear and the rotten belay forced me back. We abbed carefully from all our belay points, packed up the kit and left. We’d failed but were happy to have survived some very serious climbing.
We clipped bolts for a couple of days like normal people and explored the north coast, but Los Gigantes was still nagging. I couldn’t help thinking of some shallow grooves I’d spotted on the buttress right of the hellish chimney. There was a slim chance they might lead somewhere. After all our struggles I was almost embarrassed to ask Steve if he’d make another attempt, but he was up for it (the prospect of sport-climbing away the rest of the trip being none too riveting) so next morning we made our fourth journey along the pipe. After two pitches on familiar ground we headed off into the first of the grooves. The rock was flaky but at least it was culm (like on-sight pioneering at Blackchurch, N Devon) and there was the odd bit of gear which inspired confidence. 250m below us pleasure boats laden with tourists cruised beneath the cliff, playing classical music appropriate to the majesty of the surroundings and hooting when they spotted us. By now we felt like a fixture on this part of the cliff, having spent two days trying to get up the same section. On the next pitch the rock became more and more compact till I came to a dead halt at a blind corner. A small wire went halfway in but the game was up – this line wasn’t going to go and it was the last option. It was early afternoon. We had two choices - either forget the whole thing or return to the chimney of horror.
So I’m back at my highpoint in the chimney, in the half-light deep inside the huge recess, everything as horrible as I remembered it. Anything like a positive hold just breaks, the only way to make progress is to use opposing pressure holds to force a way upwards. It is closer to extreme caving than it is to the sunny sport climbing on the rest of Tenerife. An hour later my T-shirt is in shreds, I’m filthy, bleeding, and every muscle aches, but at least I’m at the top of the chimney! I fix one of my ropes so I’ll never have to do it again as long as I live, and knock off for the day. By dark we’re back in the port of Los Gigantes sinking the beers, more confident now but aware that we’re still only half way up the cliff. Back again. Steve got a fun pitch on near-perfect rock above the chimney and we cruised onwards but were heading for another massive recess. As we got closer we could see it was capped by a roof at least 30m across so we broke right and tried a steep wall which should lead to the continuation of the couloir line. Like everything else it was 4 grades harder than it looked and started to gobble up time. Our priority was to get up the cliff rather than climb the most direct route, so we retreated again and traversed 80m right on a ledge system to a rib of granite-like rock. Steve led it, a nice ‘normal’ 5c pitch which inspired false optimism that the rock might be improving. It led to a complex but lower-angled area of cliff which was surely climbable somewhere. We were out of time so again it was lots of abseils back to the pipe and eventually the bar. Purists would bivouac. Summit day, our sixth spent on Los Gigantes. We made another pre-dawn start and toiled back to our highpoint. Now the climbing was serious rather than hard - infrequent anchors, various rock types but always weak and brittle. Get there slow and careful or not at all. We half expected a nasty sting in the tail as anything could happen on Los Gigantes, but the ground became more and more amenable and we topped out at 1pm. We still had to get down of course, but for a happy half-hour we drank all our water, ate fig rolls and basked in the Spanish sun. Misión accomplished. Route details: Misión Improbable, 18/19 pitches, XS, 5c/6a. FA. Pat Littlejohn and Steve Sustad (varied leads) over 5 climbing days + 1 reconnaissance day between Jan 14th and Jan 22nd, 2003. Gear taken: set of nuts to Rock 10 + spares, cams to Camalot 3. Long slings.
TIEN SHAN 2002 - RECORD NUMBER OF FIRST ASCENTS Our September 2002 Virgin Peaks expedition was a great success. Fine weather and visits to two virtually untouched areas gave us one of our best-ever trips with TWELVE virgin summits climbed by routes graded up to AD+.
After this some exciting off-road driving (25km up a river bed!) took us into a totally untouched part of the West Kokshal Too – the Ak bai-Tal glacier. We set up an Advanced Base Camp at 4200m and did some great mountaineering from there. Routes climbed included both summits of Ak-bai-tal Peak (4981m), the technical West ridge of Ak-bai-tal, and a traverse of the ‘White Fan’ (Belyi Veer) an elegant snow wedge which is a distinctive feature of this part of the range. Following this spell of high mountaineering the weather threatened again and we pulled out to a potential rock climbing area that Pat had spotted some years earlier. This proved to be excellent – limestone domes giving routes up to 3 pitches with plenty in the classic grades (Hard Severe to E2). In all about 8 routes were climbed 2 days. Back in Bishkek plans were made for the 2003 Virgin Peaks trip, this time over the border into China. We’ll be going into the north western tip of the Kun Lun range (at over 3000kms longest range in Asia), to some of the most remote and least explored mountains in the world. Details of this trip can be found here.
Pat has just co-authored a new Climbers Club guidebook to the sea-cliffs of the Lleyn Peninsula in North Wales. It should appear in the shops some time in November. The Lleyn is renowned for having some of the most serious sea-cliff climbing in Britain, but there are some very enjoyable areas too and over the past few years ISM regulars like Andy Bunce, Rob Parry and Alan Suttie have accompanied Pat on a number of first ascents there. The Lleyn is often a good bet for winter rock climbing as most of the cliffs are sheltered and south facing.
STEVE'S WINTER PROJECT Steve Monks spends his 'winters' in Australia where he has become a rock climbing legend. His big project for this year is to complete the first free ascent of the big wall climb "Lord Gumtree" at Mt Buffalo. If he succeeds, this will be the longest hard climb (or hardest long climb!) on the continent. He got high on the route last year. “I'm struggling on the big corner on pitch 7” says Steve, who is planning to get back there as soon as the Buffalo season starts after Xmas. LATEST NEWS - Steve achieved this ascent early in 2004. Any takers for a second ascent?
SKIING FROM LEYSIN by Steve Jones November - beautiful clear
skies with 50cm fresh snow in the village. Minus 5 degrees
C. Inspired for the coming ski
season,
I take skis out of the basement and skin up to Solacyre.
Up until now its been an unsettled autumn without the
usual long periods of high pressure. We started with some great runs at Diablerets, then spring snow on the Dent de Morcles (above Ovronnaz). Verbier was the next destination with a night at the Mont Fort Hut (newly renovated). After an early start we traversed over two cols to the Rosablanche, a fine summit, followed by a long run down to Siviez. By taking the lifts back up we could ski back to Verbier for a beer on the terrace. After a night in the famous Hotel Mont Collon in Arolla we took the lifts and climbed up to a steep ridge. From here we skied one of my favourite ‘wild descents’ - a massive exciting run right back to the road at La Gouille. I'm already looking forward to the next Swiss Off-Piste week when we plan to explore the Val d'Anniviers, touring between Grimmentz, Zinal and St Luc – huge area with some of the best off-piste in the Alps.
BOULDERING HEAVEN IS AUSTRALIA by Adrian Nelhams The journey from Sydney airport was long enough
for our conversation
to get round to climbing and I could tell from his voice
we were going to have a lot of fun.
Dean's excitement about the amount of unclimbed rock in New South Wales was becoming contagious. He’d found a new bouldering crag close to his home on a rocky point, which needed checking out. We threw my bags in the house, picked up the bouldering mat and in fading light, sprinted down the narrow alley and steep steps leading to Curl Curl beach. We rounded the corner and saw the boulders stretched out in front of us and with all the excitement the race was on. Trying not to lose ground on each other, we were both hopping on one foot trying to get our rock boots on, memories of our first trip to Fontainbleau flashed before me when I ended up head first in the sand. This time I didn’t trip, but before I new it Dean was down the descent corner and with the Pacific lapping up around the rocks below him, he was already on the first problem. With darkness making the holds difficult to see, we packed up and headed back. On the way home we were buzzing, I commented on the quality of the sandstone and also its downside, the crags location next to a road, and we both just laughed!
The next day we warmed up on the crags traverse which is about 50 meters long on just the cleanest and roughest sandstone I’d ever climbed on. The climbing reminded me of the gritstone back home with slopey rounded holds and cracks, both with the most amazing friction and with the edition of pockets washed clean by the Pacific storms in Winter. The height of the crag is around 12 feet, with loads of up problems around the easy to intermediate grades with a few desperates as well. Outside of this area the coastline both north and south is just littered with roofs, corners and slabs all lending itself to some great bouldering most of which has yet to be discovered. Further up the coast from Sydney is Palm Beach and the Baronjoey headland that is already well established with some great routes, although still with plenty of exploring left to do here with unclimbed boulders and problems littered everywhere. The Palm Beach boulders literally are just that, two boulders on the beach next to the ocean, one square cut boulder with longish technical problems and the other steep and overhanging, what more could you want? A dip in the Atlantic on a hot day maybe!
Further again up the coast is Nelson Bay and Anna Bay with the coastline between the two very rugged and craggy lending itself to plenty of bouldering. I spent 2 days there just wandering around the rocks stopping every few meters to put my rock boots on and just doing the best lines. The best climbing I found was around the two headlands of Boat Harbour which is close to Anna Bay. Loads of boulders and small crags made up the coastline here, with plenty of problems on them. I found chalk on some of the problems, but with so much rock and coastline here I’m sure there was still plenty of unclimbed stuff left to do (no mention of anything in the guidebooks!). During the rest of my stay in NSW I managed to visit the Blue Mountains, Point Perpendicular and North Head all within a short drive from Sydney. What really captured my imagination though was the amount of unclimbed rock everywhere and in particular on this trip, the coastal bouldering. The weather was pretty good as well!
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