The End?

This is the end of my Blogspot.

It has been an emotional experience blogging on here. Often times I have doubted whether my blog was worth keeping. Whether I was interesting enough to read? A good enough climber? A good enough writer? Too self interested? Not self confident enough? Etc etc...

I do however know the stats and know that many people do actually check in at my blog.  Those people need not worry. I am still blogging, but like Des Lynam, Eamon Holmes and Natasha Kaplinsky before me, I have changed channels.  You can still read my self-interested, banal, climbing banter over at www.alancassidyclimbing.wordpress.com .

:-)

It's been a while...

It has been a while since I last blogged. I was reminded of this last night. I guess I just haven't had a whole lot to share with the world beyond the random words and phrases I tweet from time to time.

The last couple of months have been all about; getting married (best day of my life), going to 2 other weddings, covering as much of Rob's job as I could whilst he was away, expanding the TCA Glasgow Youth Squad and getting ready to go on Honeymoon. Yay!

Mr & Mrs. Typically wet July in Scotland. (Photo: Cody Cox)

Climbing wise I have been quite focused with my training. Mornings are me time. I spend an hour or two most mornings before work on the campus boards and fingerboards of TCA. I find it easier to train the basic stuff early in the day, the co-ordination of the motor systems seem to require a bit longer to wake up. I still find it difficult to train in the evenings mid-week with other commitments but knowing that I have at least done my morning workout keeps me sane.  I have been working to a program with a clearly defined progression and I must say ticking off the daily objectives can turn the most monotonous hangs into a motivating battle.

The goals are to have a successful trip around the Eastern States, tick a few 5.13s (maybe a 14 or two?) and enjoy climbing on rock which has not happened nearly enough in 2012. Yes, I say this in every blog but it has been a while! (Future essay: How much actually is enough? Discuss.)

Coming back to the UK in Autumn I hope to progress the bouldering a bit further (weather permitting). I have really got more into my bouldering this summer and have started to build up a better base of Font 7s on other rock types. I hope this will form a base from which to head up the grades a bit further and finally master the mystery to me that is Font 8A away from Dumby.

Below are a couple of videos of a couple of things I hauled myself up during the sunniest day I have managed to grab outdoors this year so far.

The Trad Headspace

I firmly believe that my trad head is poor because I don't fall off.  I don't mean that in an "I'm so good I never fall off" kind of way, I mean that I never, or rarely, get into a position where I am likely to fall off on a trad route.  Now some might say that is a good thing but if you never take the falls, you'll never truly believe in the gear.  Or I won't anyway.  I can grasp when a placement is theoretically good but I have not taken a leader fall onto gear in such a long time that my instincts make me fear it.

My sport climbing onsight grade has far exceeded my trad grade. The suggestion that simply getting on more trad climbs building a base, though an important element, I don't think cuts it.  I believe that I could go out and (with the caveat of route choice) climb a whole season on E5s and possibly E6s without falling off once.

Considering the sport grade on most E5s; 6c-7a+ perhaps, I would be horrified if I fell off with bolts.  Unless it was some weird slab, or über-lichenous I could safely say I would onsight close to 99% at this level on bolts.  If my life depended on it, I could probably solo at that level without too much of a problem.  So getting on E5's with bad gear falls into the latter category, in my mind I'm soloing but I know I'll make it and those with good gear just feel like an easy sport route.  Within the E6 category, the story is obviously different but even at the upper end, I'd fancy my chances against a lot of sport 7c's.  With careful route choice the success odds are still upwards of 70 percent I reckon.  Dalraida is case in point, long, very steep, 7b climbing was home territory and so I never actually felt out my comfort zone. 

No, what I really need to do is actually fall off stuff!  Crazy as that might sound, I need to go for routes that will be hard for me, get out of my comfort zone and into positions where to cry "take" is not an option.  I'm not getting into death defying stuff here, there are loads of fall-offable hard E6's and E7's.  I need to take a few wingers onto gear that I know is good and put theory into practice.  Obviously if I were to get a few onsights in the process that would be a good thing!

Having had the frustrating day in Glen Nevis it was good to be able to get back on the horse straight away, with one of Scotland's true trad gurus too, Niall McNair.  We set off for Iron Crag in the Lakes, home to host of E6s, E7s and one of the UKs most deadly trad routes If 6 was 9, E9.  Niall had been trying to climb an E7 called Iron Man ground up and had fully embraced the falling off thing.

There was a lot of seepage and a few showers and when I went for an attempt on Western Union E6 which shared half of Niall's route the flash pump and the wet holds put me off.  I said "TAKE" again. I threw my helmet on the floor and had a tantrum about being a pussy.  After Niall's second attempt ended in another fall from the last move I felt like I really should have another go.  This time the confidence was there.  I climbed up beyond Niall's gear, through the wetness and into the independent top half.  It all went rather smoothly and was definitely comfortable stuff.  

Niall sent on his third attempt, adjusting the top sequence made it all look rather easy.  The seepage down Pheonix of Obsidian appeared to have regressed enough to climb it.  Despite nearly saying take on the first hard section I fought the urge and climbed up into the roof.  From here the crux traverse left was wet.  I had a nut and a cam and it was a long way to the last piece.  They had to hold if the wetness beat me.  After an attempt at the traverse, and frustrated by the wetness I shouted for beta from Niall.  With confidence that there was something good coming up I went for it and succeeded on my second (guidebook) E7 of the week.  Niall won't give me the E7 tick, but I felt like I had had much more of the E7 experience than on Dalriada.  I'd be interested to hear the grade consensus from the experienced trad heads out there.

So no falls yet.  Looks like I will have to return to Iron Crag for Iron Man, which looks to have much greater potential for a big ride!

Not the Big Trad Man

Doing Dalriada has me psyched to get my trad-climbing game up.  What else are you going to do in Scotland where the lack of good, dry, midge free, high 8 sport routes are countable on the thumbs of one hand?!

With a day off and a forecast that looked doomed to failure, Cobes, B and I went to Glen Nevis.  We were late in arriving as they still haven't done anything to improve the A82 on Loch Lomond.

As a 3 is always inconvenient when tradding, I left the guys to enjoy a few classics that I had done many years ago with my dad,  Plague of Blazes E2 and Travellin Man E3 on Gorge Crag.  Thinking myself to be the next best thing in trad climbing since Dave MacLeod I headed up to Wave Buttress, where the guys wanted to go to next, and dropped a rope down Jodicus Direct which a couple of years ago Dave had climbed headpoint without the peg at E7.

First trip down the route on the Gri-Gri and I found the little sideways RP that protects the crux and a really good RP which could potentially be placed mid-crux if you could hold on to place it.  The crux moves were delicate with small holds that I couldn't quite get my sausages in to.  Yet I could still do it if I trusted my feet well.

Reaching the bottom, I climbed straight back up on the Gri-Gri, placing all the pieces.  Well that was easy enough!  I abbed back down.  Certainly when you saw all the gear in place the hard moves were protected and even if you couldn't get the mid-crux runner in the sideways RP at your feet would probably hold.  At worst it was down to a cluster of good cams.  Nothing too dangerous.  Just a big ride down a slabby wall.

I went up again.  Cleaned the gear out and waited at the bottom.  The guys arrived.  The wind dropped.  The midges arrived.  The air temperature increased.  I wanted to do it though. I got on lead.  Hot and bothered by the time I reached the first low RPs I climbed back down.  I needed to wait for better conditions.

The shadow came round again and a gust picked up from the summit of a neighbouring Munro.  I went again and climbed comfortably enough to the cams.  I paused a long time.  I could feel the hormones pulsing through my body.  Not endorphins, not adrenaline, this wasn't a buzz.  It was pure cortisol.  Fear and stress.  I stood for ages rationalising it all in my head.  I tugged the cams umpteen times. Bomber. I controlled the fear, pressed on up.  Into the crux I paused and successfully placed the RP well, clipped it, then somehow reversed to the comfort of the stance.  I got all my strength back.

Well this was it, the crux was protected after all.  I felt strong. I could do this thing no problem.  Yet the fear was hanging over me.  It glued me to the foot ledge until my legs went numb and I couldn't feel my toes.  I had better do something.

I climbed back up facing fear directly in the eyes.  With precision I got the hand holds well and I crushed them.  I got my foot up.  I just had to trust it, get the other up and all would be well.  The runner was at my chest.

I SAID "TAKE". FEAR TAKES THE WIN.

I tortured myself about wimping out all the way home.

Dalriada Onsight

Dalriada on the Cobbler seemed to creep firmly into mind over the last week.  I heard on the grapevine that Gordon Lennox had made an onsight ascent, the first, I know of, to have be claimed.  Tim Rankin had also made an ascent.  I knew there would be chalk on it.  I also knew of 4 other ground up ascents including a flash from Ally Coull.  Why had I waited so long to try it?  "B" had posed that very same question only a few days before my trip up to the Kennedy Boulder.

I suggested to Cobes that we hide from the Jubilee up the Cobbler.  I had once been told by Niall McNair that the rock up the Cobbler takes a lot of getting used to and that it is worth taking some time to get your Cobbler apprenticeship before attempting the hard things.  I had only been up once before with my Dad back in 1998.  I thought the advice was worth heeding.

I set off up Club Crack E2 with an unexplained bout of Raynaud's setting in.  My numb hands meant I had a hard and very frightening time.  If this was what an E2 was like, then Dalriada must be insane!

Long after we came down from the route, the sensation had returned and the sun was warm.

Dalriada from below. It's Steep!

I knew there must be some chalk still on Dalriada though I could not see it from the ground.  The thread was enticing.  I was sure I could get that far.  I could see the good gear placements above that, and the rest described in the guide.  The description really didn't make it sound that bad, 7b climbing.  I had onsighted 8b once.  Why not go for it?

There was fixed gear to clip and I could see places where other gear must go.  I had also just bought a whole rack of BD Cams too from Crag X, they are amazing, and made me feel more confident.  It was on.

Shiny new cams.  Thanks CragX

Progressing up I told myself that both Daves, Macleod and Birkett, thought the route E6.  I have onsighted quite a few of those.  Given the pegs had probably deteriorated maybe it was creeping towards E7 but the gear in between them was good, the fall would be big but not deadly.  Yet I never felt like I would fall.  The holds were huge.

I reached the stance below the final headwall without much of a pump.  The position was out there but comfortable.  I had plenty of time to consider that from here it was just likely to be the protection of the pegs at the lip to the top.  Pulling round the angle change I was off my arms but the character of the rock had changed too.  The scallops and scoops all looked like holds but most were slopers at best and generally not holds at all.  Any chalk up there had washed away.  It was all up to me.  I committed to a crimp and what looked like a break.  It was nothing.  My body arced backwards.  Somehow I recruited every fibre in my body and dropped down on to small scoop and pulled it back in.  I scuttled down to the safety of a big crimp rail near the last peg.  I was flummoxed.  After 10 lonely minutes getting an exceedingly dry mouth, I finally saw a way through and pulled out my first E7 onsight.  If it is E7.

Cobes semaphores news of the ascent back to Glasgow from the summit.

My belief in pegs is very minimal given my experience the last time I went for an E7 onsight (as seen in Committed).  Yet there are so many on Dalriada and the gear in between is so good.  Without any pegs it may well be E8 (I am stunned it ever got this grade), or at least what I imagine E8 may feel like.  Undoubtedly in the 10 years since the Daves' ascents the pegs will have deteriorated in the Scotch mist.  The route is out-there and intimidating.  I'd like to think it was E7 for the position and the uncertainty of the gear but the climbing just isn't that hard.  French 7b would seem more in keeping with an E6.  I guess I will have to try a few more E7s to decide!  Did someone say "Trad Revival 2012"?

Hotline to Bouldering Progress

I am becoming a bit of an Arrochar aficionado.   I have been looking away from Dumbarton for bouldering venues of late and also enjoying a bit of solitary climbing.  This is partly to get me used to hard schist moves for the next big Anvil project and the first leg of my trip to the States where we will have a few days in Rumney which I think is a kind of schist or gneiss.  It is also part of my grand scheme of getting a hell of a lot better at bouldering, which as I alluded to in my last post I see as being the keystone to my development towards harder routes.

With the long summer evenings, Glen Croe is manageable from Glasgow for some evening action. At the time of my last blog I had managed to squeeze in 2 sessions up at the Kennedy Boulder in amongst the as ever hectic schedule at TCA Glasgow.  I was getting frustrated with my lack of success on two Dave Macleod problems; Hotline and The Nuclear Button which I felt should have been very do-able for me.  With DM duties this last weekend I thought I might be able to snatch one last trip up to the boulder before sacking the problems off.  Mr MacLeod happened to be in TCA that morning and he said an interesting thing which whipped me up a bit.  He thought it was just my "lack of on-rock time".

With new found belief that a little bit of persistence would be rewarded and a tactical shoe change to my brand new 5.10 Quantums I arrived at the boulder about 7:45pm.  There was a good breeze, not the 27 degree sunshine of visit 1 or the midge death of visit 2.  An inadequate warm up later and I pulled on to Hotline and nearly stuck the problem first go.  I looked at my hand. The split that has been plaguing me for the last month now (yeah, really) had reopened.  I was good for one more go with a bit of glue before the tape would have to come out rendering the crux too hard once again.  I stuck it and sent the problem. Happy boy.

My chronic split tips are a legacy of my Sheffield Uni days and generally being too heavy for small holds

Given the holds on Nuclear Button are as aggressive/the same as those on Hotline I had to leave that for another day but the line of Thermostatic 7c was winking at me through the lichen and moss.  Half an hour of brushing and playing re-revealed this problem which is absolutely excellent and only marred by the proximity of the neighbouring bloc at the top.  Doubly happy to have got this one ticked too.

It would be good to see people up there trying more of theses lines to get them cleaner still.  As a local's venue it is a wonderfully peaceful spot.  The boulders are big and there are a lot of lines to be done, especially in the lower grades.  As with most of the Scottish boulder venues, lack of traffic really detracts from the problems and the Kennedy Boulder though big, is by no means the Scottish Bowderstone as implied in the Stone Country guide.

At 10 pm I wandered down the hill, still in the daylight.  The setting sun cast a great light on the Cobbler and the impressive overhang of Dalriada.  Gordon Lennox had just last weekend got the first known onsight, something I had been meaning to try for ages....

Moving Things Forward

I have been struggling for an Internet connection that isn't at work for the past month.  The connection at home is failing us and I really don't want to stay in work any longer than I have to.  As a result all you Cassidy blog fans have had a nice wee holiday from hearing me moan about conditions, lack of time, being weak or any of the usual crap that I come up with.

The most significant news at this juncture is not any big sends but to announce my association with Montane.  I am super psyched to be working with a real innovator in the UK outdoor clothing industry.  This is a brand I know I can trust in whatever Scotland can throw at me.  I have been wearing a North Star downy since Christmas time and I am super impressed with it.  I can't wait to test drive the kit and go on some proper adventures with Montane.  Norway is calling me!  The tag line: Further, Faster kind of sums up where I want to go with my climbing at the moment.  Doing things in the upper 8's faster and furthering my climbing towards the mythical 9a!

Although I haven't been blogging I have been out on the rock a few times, mostly getting painfully close yet still painfully far away from a few really cool boulders in the 7C+ bracket.  The Steall Hut projects have not yet been returned to as a window in the schedule has failed to present itself.  Unfortunately the midges and sweaty heat of summer have now appeared so the Steall things might have to wait till I return from the States in September.

I have a rough outline of a plan in my head on how to orientate my training towards achieving as best I can in the US.  It looks likely to be my only trip to good quality sport this year so I really want to make it count.  For the next 6 weeks I intend to work on bettering my bouldering strength (Max Strength phase).  This however is a real conundrum to me.  I find that my bouldering has not really improved in years and I have no real clue as to what exactly I actually need to do to break the plateau.  I know I can easily get fitter than I am or have been.  The "how to" for that is also self evident to me, but getting stronger for climbing beyond where I am at the moment remains a bit of a mystery.  My plan is largely to engage with the fingerboard and let the movement elements take care of themselves during my on-rock time.

I would dearly love to break into being solid on the Font 8As (the local ones I have done don't count btw).  With that level of strength as a baseline for my PE I could really move forward towards the 9a mark.  I feel I hold be able to climb at this level though I did have a worrying chat with John Watson about genetic ceilings and bouldering potential today.  I hope I haven't found mine.  If anyone out there has the answer I am all ears...

April (Snow) Showers

The march of time seems to have the upper hand at the moment.  Though it feels like April has only just got started, it has as I write, only a week left.  The amount of routes going down is far too few and the goal of getting lighter such that I might climb harder routes seems unable to suppress my appetite for treats at TCA.  You see it isn't always as simple as doing a 9a once you've done an 8c+.

Earlier in the month I had short session at Malham with TCA manager Rob Sutton on two routes that are high on my tick list; Austrian Oak 8b, and Bat Route 8b+/c.  The Oak is one of those routes I should no doubt have done years ago but have never finished off.  I felt frustratingly sluggish on it with a lack of outdoor route practice.  Bat Route was largely wet but I did get a sequence together on the crux (broken recently by Rob (mutant strength has its disadvantages too).  I give the split grade above as Steve Mac in conversation while staying at mine recently told me "you can't take 8c for it anymore" but now with the snapped hold maybe it is (?).  I don't recall what Adam Ondra's comments were but I think he took the grade.  He onsighted it!  

A couple of weeks after a heatwave, Scotland kicks back.

Given the experience at Malham, I decided that the following weekend it would be a good idea to get some routes done in the hope this would start the ball rolling in terms of route fitness.  Despite some weather warnings for the Cairngorms Rich and I headed for the Camel near Inverness.  I had heard it said many a time that the Camel was a good venue, with long routes and a couple of 8a's to try.  It was, but the weather was not exactly compliant.  I very much doubt the temperature got above 2 degrees all day.  The hail, then later snow flurries were frequent and heavy.  As we had driven all that way, we persevered, which was at times hilariously farcical.  I haven't had such a fun days climbing in a long time.  

How typically Scottish! The same view more or less, on the same day in April

The hot aches were horrendous, but the fact that we got something done in the face of weather that would put most people off was a reward.  Among the few classics I came away with were Ubuntu (2nd go) and a flash of its harder variation, Gift Link,  which are probably 7c+ and 8a respectively and the hardest on the crag.  I was happy with that given the conditions.

Steall Hut is one of the finest sport climbing crags in Scotland. Shame about the pegs and wires! (Photo; Dan Walker)

The very next day it was to Steall Hut crag to try some of Dave Macleod's latest additions.  It was another cold day but not in the same league as the previous day.  With getting some mileage in mind I opted for the easiest of the crag's offerings; Trick of the Tail and The Fat Groove. Which are both very technical offerings with strenuous footwork akin to that at Malham.  Both routes went 3rd go.  Trick of the Tail is 7b+ so that didn't go as well as expected.  I finished the Fat Groove by extending it into the top of Stolen for fun.  I think that might just edge it up to 8a+, but I might have just been cold and tired by that point! 

Nearing the end of the footwork intensive Fat Groove 8a (Photo: Dan Walker)

The Adventure Show Adventure

One afternoon while I was painting the cafe walls during the build of TCA I got a surprise phone call from Richard Else from Triple Echo Productions, the series producer of BBC Scotland's The Adventure Show.  He had a proposal.  Dave MacLeod and I were to go climb a new sport route in the UK's biggest limestone cave mouth, Peak Cavern.  

Dave looks like he would fit entirely inside me like a Russian Doll! (Photo; Triple Echo Productions)

I have to say that I had never heard of the place but being a fan of climbing in caves and with a description that made the place sound like the Santa Linya of the UK, I couldn't say no.  Plus it sounded like a real once in a lifetime experience.  The caveat of also doing a route in a pothole as part of the project seemed worth it, maybe an "adventure" in itself, and slightly frightening all at once.  

Dave on the best (the driest) section of the crux pitch. Technical moves amidst the backdrop of technicolour-slime

 (Photo: Triple Echo Productions)

The show aired last night (April 12th) and should be available here on iPlayer shortly (not at the time of writing this) for those who missed it.  I thought I would add a bit of my own take on the trip for those who might like to know more about it.

Jingling Pot is literally an unmarked hole in the ground in a field in the remote Dales above Ingleton in North Yorkshire.  It drops about 100m down into the gloom and is, I suspect, an easy enough introduction into potholing.  The squeezing and wriggling sections were not too uncomfortable or claustrophobic yet did represent a dramatic shift away from what I am used to in terms of crag approach.  It is also the potential entrance to a vast cave network of truly terrifying proportions.  The story of pioneering the first link out of Jingling through a mud choked, water filled passage, to a cave known as "Aquamole" gave me the heeby-geebys. 

Kermit in the chimney of Jingling Pot pitch 2 (Photo: Triple Echo Productions)

Reaching the bottom I was filled with fear and doubt as to whether we could actually climb the soaking wet walls we were faced with.  Electing to go first, (better to be over and done with surely), I set off up a wall I would normally have turned away from.  Yet the experience turned out to be excellent.  Once I got used to discerning the holds from shadows and got a few bits of gear in I started to relax.  The unlichened rock was grippy despite being wet.  Relaxing into it the climb, things went much more smoothly than I thought they might and all in all the climb was a fantastic, though probably once in a lifetime, experience.

I kid thee not!

Peak Cavern was a different kettle of fish.  I don't think the cameras truly did justice to the scale of the place nor the route we climbed.  Which I might add was brilliant, particularly the 3rd and 4th pitches which could be done straight up from the ground at about 7c+.  I suspect that the first 7c+ pitch may never dry out nor will the vast ceiling.  The cave does indeed have at least as much potential for grade 9's as Santa Linya.  The huge tufa column above the entrance to the show cave or the system of blobs across the roof are climbs that will have to be left to the imagination of climbers visiting as tourists.

Seconding the hard start to pitch 1, knowing if I fall, rope stretch will plant me on the floor.  Gripped! (Photo: Triple Echo Productions)

Like Santa Linya too, access for the pleasure of climbers has to be balanced with respect for the historical significance of the cave.  While the route was a good stunt and a great climb for Dave and I, it sadly will not be repeatable to anybody else without some difficult discussions with the land owner.  Funnily enough though he does seem to allow some Aid Climbing (yes, some people still do that!) to be practiced in the cave.  

I sense from the above blog, and from the general vibe in the cave at the time, that we were seen as steeping on some toes.  Some recognition is being looked for.  Yes there has been some (aid) climbing activities that have gone on in the cave before Dave and I went there and certainly the vast amount of bolts that have been put in is truly incredible!  While aid climbing is not for me, some people seem to enjoy it.  Crossing the entire ceiling of Peak Cavern is certainly a hell of a lot of aid climbing.  

Dave and I were very lucky to have the backing of the BBC to secure access to the Cavern and some people may have an issue with that, but the fact that a small group of aid climbers are allowed to have their fun while the free climbers aren't seems to me to smack of inconsistency.  To my mind, the place should either be left entirely alone, or opened up to all climbers in sensible places.  Perhaps climbing on the outer left wall would be manageable.  This would open up the second half of our route to a repeat and potentially could be linked into the massive head wall to the right of where we climbed which looks like a 9a in waiting.  Climbing activity on that side would not pose a threat to the archaeologically significant parts of the cave.  Just a thought. 

A Return to Wester Ross

Grand Beau! Le Soleil, les montagnes, la mer et du gres. (Photo: Helen Black) 

Helen and I were lucky enough with our timing that a long planned 4 day weekend happened to coincide with Scotland's March heatwave.  Though the conditions were sub-optimal for Torridon, our first port of call, it did at least mean that everything was bone dry.  We ran around the Celtic Jumble just trying loads of things, whether they were in the guide or not and had loads of fun.  I think that is the beauty of Torridon really.  The sheer quantity and quality of every piece of rock just screams CLIMB.  

 

Helen on just another fabulous Torridon wall 

I stupidly tried Frantic 7C in the heat - and split a tip on Day 1. D'oh! (Photo; Helen Black)

My last trip to Torridon was during the May heatwave last year and the valley was ripped through by fire.  The after effects of the fire were still visible with scorched heather and blackened trees, but the upside is the boulders are much easier to navigate at the moment.  Last year too I failed miserably to summit Malc's Arete.  I was baffled at how this could possibly be given 7A+, so hard were we finding it last May, but sure enough it was dispatched with the crucial beta we were missing last time; just go for it.  It isn't actually that hard but it surely one of the best boulder problems in the UK.

Trying Dan Varian's Robert the Brute 7B+. Send? Nope! (Photo: Helen Black)

The Dinosaur area is a playground of technical problems with rounded top outs. (Photo: Helen Black) 

On Dan Varian's Pallet Knife 7B+/C. Send? Nope! Next Time (Photo: Helen Black)

From Torridon we moved on to the brilliant Gneiss sport crags in the Gairloch and Gruinard area.  I had one thing in mind, to attempt a project equipped by Paul Thorburn known as Stalks at Creag Nan Luch.  This route is mentioned in the Gary Latter guide as a potential 8b/+.  After seeking a pass from Paul Tattersall, who has put in a power of effort developing these crags with excellent resin bolts, nice belays etc and getting a green light, I gave it a go.  

The route turned out to be an amazing sustained piece of climbing requiring a sequence of cool contortions up the left hand hanging groove line on the steepest part of the crag.  The approach wall leads to a long span round the roof off a slopey undercut, gets the muscles firing and it doesn't ease up much from there to the belay.   In total it took 4 goes to get the move round the roof right and it was done.  I felt the route was more like 8a+, a little morpho, so perhaps 8b for those of a smaller wingspan than I and another 3 star sport route to add to those found in the area.  Again I'd like to reiterate the amazing work that has been done by the locals at these crags by the likes of the 2 Pauls, Murdo Jamieson, and Andy Willby.

Very psyched arriving to take on the Creag Nan Luch projects (Photo: Helen Black)

Cleaning the route after the successful ascent of Paul Throburn's Stalks 8a+ (Photo; Helen Black)

En route home we stopped off at Moy Rock near Dingwall.  This long conglomerate crag has been well bolted and comes complete with over 50 routes from 4-7b+/c.  There are many more still to be equipped and the main wall is as good as any conglomerate wall that the likes of Margalef or Montsant has to offer.
 

I survived The Fear at Moy

I unexpectedly ended up with the onsight first ascent of the crag's hardest route to date when I climbed the right hand extension to the excellent Seer.  This is a project of Andy Willby's which I assumed must have been climbed, as to look at it didn't look that bad. The Fear as it turns out, still needs a bit of Sika to keep it up.  To give it a grade was quit difficult as I ended up squeezing my way up it trying to distribute my weight as evenly as possible so as not to bring the whole thing down on Helen.  With a bit of stabilisation work I think the grade might settle around 7b+ or possibly 7c.

Please note that there are Owls and Ravens nesting at Moy at the moment.  Advice on which routes should be avoided is available at www.mcofs.org