. But without Howard's enthusiasm, my own weak will didn't find the time for the long trip up. Happily, the
and Andy organised a club trip, and E wanted to go, so up we went. I spent a curiously relaxing Friday driving up alone and unhurried; about 9 hours actual driving with stops every couple of hours, and picking up
. So we were in time for the Friday night chilli, all ready for climbing on Saturday and Sunday.
.
Saturday: Aladdin's Mirror
Up 6:30, b'fast, faff a bit - we couldn't quite be bothered to get all our gear together the night before - off 8, car park 8:20, set off around 8:30, walk in is a bit more than an hour, kit up and so on and so by 10 we're about ready to start climbing. My pic shows Aladdin's buttress; look closely and you'll see a bloke in red in the centre just on the snow at the base of the buttress. The "Mirror" starts heading up the snow ramp rightwards. GPS trace. We're using the old blue rope and my skinny new rope.
The route continues up right to the snow patches higher on the right, before returning left to the dark pinnacle at the top center just below the skyline, then easily behind the ridge to the plateau above. It's a grade I, perhaps a little harder in these rather dry conditions, but comfortable enough. You can perhaps see the upside-down triangle smeared with ice which is the "direct"; but that's IV, and not really in condtiion. E and I are climbing together, me leading; it is her first taste of Scottish winter climbing. L, M and X are one pitch behind us initially, then they start training and we drop them. Here's E belaying at about "the turn"; the other party, L belaying and M following lower down; and me climbing somewhere near the top.
At the top, the time is an awkward 1:30. We have, in theory, time to drop down and do another route before dark at around 5; but not really any spare. And we're tired. So we wimp out and decide to stroll up Cairngorm, which is only a km or so away; E has after all not been here before. Here we are at the summit, with the cairn of gorm carefully positioned between us.
Drop down the ridge between Sneachda and the ski area until we can traverse back in to the frozen lakes and pick up the pack we stashed, and walk out, quite tired. Somehow the walk out, downhill, feels longer than the walk in, uphill; it takes ages to finally get round the turn of the ridge to see the welcome car park; and we get back a little after 4 so the cafe is shut. 8:30 hours out on the hill.
And so down, time for a late afternoon lounge around before dinner - A and J providing pasta - and then a moderately early bed after the strains of the day.
Sunday: The Runnel
Up 6:30 again; we're more efficient this time and off before 7:30, and leave the car park before 8, there at 9. Today we set our sights slightly higher at The Runnel, II. GPS. 7 hours out total.
The Runnel is one of several climbs that start from the top of a snow-slope to the right of yesterday. In the pic you can see a bloke in red at the base of the "real" start, as it trends off left, but hidden inside the buttress. It is much more closed-in than yesterday. There are two parties above us, and we rapidly discover that the name is appropriate, as (small) bits of ice are channelled down the gully at us. We rope up at about the sharp rock point pointing right; the snow is hard-frozen and steeper than it looks in the pic.
And so on up. It is fairly steep, and somewhat testing for me, but nothing worrying; and I don't have to search too hard for just about adequate gear. The last pitch is the crux, a narrow chimney fairly thin in ice so perhaps I could claim it as II+. Below we see Our Hero thrutching his way up; there are enough small wires in the walls to make me just about happy.
The ice has been hacked around a lot to the point of not always being there anymore; sometimes I'm putting my pick in a nice hole chipped out by those who went before; and having some toeholds pre-kicked helps the burning pain in the calves. Above the chimney is a short easy slope to the plateau and no cornice.
I get to lie back against a boulder on the plateau as some shelter from the now-increased bitter wind, while E climbs up; we can't hear each other while she is climbing, though if I'd wanted to fix that I could have belayed just at the edge. Some of the others had radios for that; cute, but. The ropes have twisted themselves together so we just stuff them into the sack; the wind doesn't encourage lingering. Southwards stretches the plateau.
Into the distance disappear the mounds of human heads; but we're not going that way. Instead we head down the Goat Track and, after wrestling with our consciences for not very long, head back downwards. We could sneak in another climb but again we're tired, and also quite satisfied by The Runnel.
And so down, with time for coffee and cake in the cafe; time to shower, have a stroll down Aviemore high street, which is linear and recalls alpine ski resort streets (that's not a compliment). Dinner: chicken tagine by P.
Monday: drive back, with L and M; E will take the train back to Edinburgh, which is handy, as we're all brought too much kit so the car is full. Memo to self, yet again: strip it down. Second stop is Purdy lodge, which was good. About where Barter Books in Alnwyck were on the way up.
Practical considerations
We stayed in the Youth Hostel, which was a good choice. Here's the foyer / reception / one of the lounges, leading towards the dining area on the left.
As you see, it isn't the sort of place that objects to you bringing sacs and axes in, although like anywhere else it doesn't want mountain boots past the boot room. There was a nice drying room, and no-one in our 4-bed room snored; the showers were good. You could get a basic breakfast, though not until 7, so we brought our own; and we cooked each night. There are big fridges for your stuff.
The temperature outside the hostel in the morning, a little before dawn, was about -5; it would have been somewhat lower up at the climbs. Snow was fairly thin (the ski resort was only just about open, and that limited) and hard-frozen; the path into the corrie was well-made (until you get to the boulder field) but treacherous if oyu didn't watch it. I was in themal leggings, and then my old green "warm" "waterproof" trousers. On top I had again thermals, then a fleece, then a down jacket, then raincoat. That was actually a bit too warm; on Sunday I didn't wear the fleece, and was less like a Michelin man. Gloves were down mitts and outer shell. So that's pretty well what we wore for Mont Blanc; it was fine. Boots were the new boots; they were fine, although on the cold side. On Saturday I carried too many not-very-useful friends and large rocks; Sneachda seems to want wires mostly. And I didn't have enough carabiners.
Kit: here's the hallway once I'd unloaded the car. Not very helpful perhaps. E and I had two technical axes each, one new one old each. The new (Petzl and Black Diamond) were distinctly better on anything steep, though admittedly a bit annoying to use when walking. E had her steel crampons, I had my aluminium ones. We don't have proper leashes for the axes; I've finally realised that using slings on the heads is not a good idea when you're swinging them; for Sunday I added cords from the tails, and that worked well.
Fear
When I've done this before, Howard has been in charge. Quite often I was climbing harder than him, but he was definitely in charge of when to go, what routes to do, safety, not getting lost, all that stuff. I found actually being the Leader of our little party, as opposed to just leading the climbs, quite stressful.
Howard's notes
Howard sends me some notes of previous trips, which I'll include here for the records.
- We went to Sneachda with Miriam in 1992 and climbed in glorious sunshine with no wind. I kept telling you how lucky we were and you didn’t believe me.
- We went to Glencoe with Debbie Fish and the guy from Chemistry whose name will come back to me, in “1993-4” so I guess over New Year. We were joined by Bill Taylor for the first day on Buchaille Etive More. Later we did Aenoch Eagach ridge as a rope of four, with me leading but you coming last in an equally important role.
- We went to the Shelterstone with Steve McCann and Debbie, my catalogue says in 1997 but it could have been 1996. You led me up most of Hells Lum Chimney (II+) and Steve led us all up Route Majeur (IV) Steve and I shared the decisions on that trip.
- We went to Sneachda in Feb 2013, with Karl Roscoe and young Chris Collett, and I seem to remember you going to look at Alladin’s Mirror Direct with Karl, then me offering to drop a rope for you from its top. I selected the routes, but mostly left you and Karl to it on the other rope.
Every now and again one reads a paper saying something along the lines of "ZOMG we're all going to die of starvation". Perhaps not literally that, but it will say something like crop yields decline under global warming. And totally fail to mention that other factors - better farming, fertilisers, and so on - are increasing yields faster. So this is just a page for me to tag with the obvious rebuttals, and link to some of my old posts. My pic is from ourworldindata.org/grapher/cereal-production.
