Failure

Andy, Jim and I have all been making the effort this season to get on harder routes. Since these are near (or beyond) the limits of our abilities, this means we have failed to get up our chosen routes on a few occasions. We all accept this chance - uncertainty of outcome is one of the defining features of an adventure, and as long as the failures are the type you can walk away from, they are experiences to be learned from. That doesn't stop them being frustrating though!

A beautiful morning on the Ben



On Sunday, the three of us headed up to Coire na Ciste to attempt Apache (VIII,8), the line of cracks up the steep wall right of Sioux Wall. Greg Boswell had described this as similar in style to Sioux Wall and only a touch harder, although he has biceps the size of my thighs adn balls to match so maybe his advice shouldn't be taken too literally! Jim and I had thoroughly enjoyed Sioux Wall last year and all 3 of us were psyched to get on Apache.

A popular crag!

It was a beautiful morning on Ben Nevis, which brought out the crowds! There were teams on Sioux Wall, Cornucopia, Babylon and Gargoyle Wall, with several others heading for Green and Comb gullies. The crag wasn't quite as white as we'd hoped but certainly wintery enough to justify an attempt. We had a couple of plumes of spindrift come down Thomson's Route towards us which added to the wintery feel.

The steep, imposing face of Apache

Spindrift engulfs Andy and Jim

Andy won the toss for the crux, so Jim led the short first pitch up Thomson's to where Apache steps left while I was on photographic duty, the intention being that I'd second pitches 1 & 2 in a oner then lead P3.

Jim approaching the belay on Pitch 1

The start of P2 is a very tenuous, teetery step up and traverse left into the groove. Andy explored a few other options before committing to this. Before long, though, he was powering up the crack. Something was wrong though - there was a lot of verglas in the cracks so he was having great difficulty getting gear to seat properly, and even from across the gully I could hear the swearing as he kicked out a crucial runner. He replaced it and downclimbed to a rest in the groove.

Andy replacing the nut he's just kicked out

A few minutes later, he moved up again. Returning to his high-point, he placed another runner in the verglassed crack and moved further up the crack in the hope of more solid gear. This time, the pump got the better of him and he fell. Both his high pieces ripped but his upper axe stayed in place, the springer leash stopping his fall.

Andy returning to his high-point

Thank God for springer leashes!

Andy retreated to the belay and I tied on to see if I could do any better. It was a short-lived attempt though - seeing Andy's gear rip messed with my head and I couldn't even commit to the tenuous traverse at the start of the pitch.

This is not the first failure we've had recently and I'm sure it won't be the last, but on this occasion I think backing off was the right decision. We'll be back...

The Vicar... or Maybe Not

I was out with Jim in the Northern Corries yesterday. It was one of my more eventful days' winter climbing and won't be forgotten in a hurry!

We were both feeling good and had developed a bit of confidence from the first couple of routes of the season so decided to have a wee go at something hard. The Vicar (VII,8, summer E1) is a route that has both inspired me and scared me for a while; it looked to be in excellent nick so we decided it was worth a shot.

The first pitch is shared with Nocando Crack. After reading about Messrs McPherson, Moran and Robertson's recent ascent of that route, we were expecting to find a bit of ice but were still surprised by how much was there. The steep corner near the start of the first pitch was climbed purely on ice, which meant Jim had a fair old run-out by the time he got established on the mixed ground above.

From there, I led a fairly short but quite exciting pitch up to the base of the Vicar cracks themselves. These looked to be in perfect nick from below but on closer inspection, they were heavily iced, making placing solid gear difficult but providing no assistance for the climbing itself. From the belay (a stonking peg plus a couple of nuts in the icy crack), it was obvious that this wasn't going to be easy!

We transferred gear, Jim psyched himself up, I shuffled across to try to get out of impalement range. Jim moved off, clipped the top piece of the belay as a runner, reached up past towards the ledge above then slipped and shot past me. Before I knew it, I was upside down with Jim below me. Looking up, the gear in the icy crack had ripped reducing the three-point belay to one. Jim and I shared a wide-eyed stare and some deep breaths for a second or two, both quickly coming to the conclusion that another attempt wouldn't be wise. I lowered Jim to the ground, rigged an abseil (with lots of paranoid triple-checking of the knot and the anchor) and descended.

We knew we'd been lucky to get away with it, and we had neither the nerves nor the daylight left for an attempt at anything else of a similar standard. However, talking through the options, we realised we were probably he only two winter climbers in Scotland that hadn't done Savage Slit (classic V,6) so we decided to nip up it.

The route was well plastered so it was a little more time-consuming than expected but we managed to get up & down before dark. It certainly helped to settle our heads. It seems a shame to think of it as a 'consolation route' as it's an excellent climb and deserving of its classic status.

In the end, though, our experiences on the Vicar will be the abiding memory from the day. We made a few mistakes - over-ambition under tricky conditions, belaying from a non-ideal position, trusting gear that was compromised by the ice in the cracks - and we both know we were lucky to get away with it. It was a timely reminder that these routes have their reputations for a reason and that we need to pick & choose our moments to push the grade, scaling back our ambitions when conditions aren't ideal.