Snowdonia in the Snow

The IMC go to North Wales again

Preparation for the trip had consisted of occasionally going to the gym, in the hope of getting back on an even par with Martin Steven’s uphill pace. I also spent time fitting my crampons to my shiny new B3s and packing a selection of ice axes to cover all eventualities. Precisely why I did this isn’t clear, as the snow was almost all fresh in the last two days, the previous weekend’s thaw and rain having stripped most of the older accumulations. This I knew, but despite all the evidence that this was going to be a complete washout, I stuck with my original plan of leaving Ipswich unreasonably early on the Friday morning.

Martin and I arrived in Capel Curig soon after nine O’clock and settled down to the serious business of drinking tea while waiting to rendezvous with Mervyn, having got our arrangement slightly confused on the way. So, after the usual IMC faff, we three parked at the bottom of the Watkin path in Nantgwynant and set out in the general direction of Snowdon just before lunchtime. Yr Aran was the first snowy target, which at its lowly altitude below the cloud base, gave us good views before we descended to the bwlch and started up the south ridge of Snowdon, on generally good snow, especially considering how fresh it was. At about 950m on the Bwlch Main, a bit short of the summit, once I’d breathlessly caught up to the point where Martin was waiting patiently with Mervyn, he pointed out that we were running out of time, so we retraced our steps, mountaineering decision made. Dropping below the cloud, we were treated to views of hillsides lit by the setting sun. My crampons had remained safely in the rucksack all day, as is traditional.

A short drive and were at the bunkhouse under Tryfan, to find Mick and Heather already ensconced and providing tea. Soon Eddie arrived having walked the long way via Glyder Fach. Everyone else drifted in over the course of the evening.

We planned to walk the southern circuit of the Carneddau on the Saturday, estimating that we’d need a full day and to not try to be too ambitious. An alpine start being called for, we set off at the crack of nine O’clock, with Eddie added to the party. After a few minutes walking, Mervyn and I jogged back to the hut to collect his ice axe from my car. The summit of Pen yr Ole Wen came and went and came again, as Martin and I strode off in a direction diametrically opposed to that intended, only to be called back after a couple of hundred metres. The summit of Carnedd Dafydd soon arrived, rather sooner for Martin than the rest of us. Soon, views were revealed by the retreating clouds and we realised that this was turning out to be an almost perfect winter walking day. Snow conditions were close to ideal, with some patches of wind-scoured hard snow on the slog up to Carnedd Llywelyn. These were sufficiently easy-angled and avoidable to keep the crampons in the rucksack, continuing to provide additional ballast, as does most winter equipment most of the time.

Having arrived at the summit, we realised that we were well ahead of our realistic schedule, and could easily have included Yr Ellen in the itinerary for the day. Strangely, nobody was keen to descend and then re-ascend Carnedd Llywelyn, so we carried on with the circuit, Martin and the others glissading to a greater or lesser extent down the lee side, while I trudged down after them. A short break above the infamous Craig yr Isfa and down a short scramble to Bwlch Eryl Farchog and up another pleasantly easy scramble to Pen yr Helgi Du and a long easy walk down the ridge got us eventually below the snow line.

On the Carneddau (click on any picture for larger image)	Craig Yr Isfa

Carnedd Llywelyn from Helgi Du

We had finished earlier than expected and were soon drinking tea in the bunkhouse, while the other parties were safely returning from various routes, including the Bochlwyd horseshoe bisected by ascents of Main Gully in imperfect but full-on winter conditions.

That evening, we were treated to a slideshow of the days exploits on a laptop, with at least half a dozen contributors. The IMC are a sophisticated bunch, so as well as coming equipped with the latest technology, we also partook of Port and Cheese in an effort to maintain standards.

Sunday dawned with wind and rain, but optimism prevailed and everyone set out for one last day of adventure. The Cneifion Arête was mentioned as a target of at least some of the party. Martin, Mervyn and I set off for Moel Siabod via the Daear Ddu ridge, which gave a very pleasant easy scramble at around the snowline and a short steep slog directly up to the summit. We arrived just in time for the cloud to lift and reveal more views. I have to say that although it’s not the most attractive mountain seen from a distance, I thought it a very nice walk and was glad that I’d done it for the first time. It’s not usually high on the agenda, but I later noticed that it’s equal 120th on the list of most prominent British peaks and seventh in Wales. Snow conditions were again good, with a bit more of a breeze than previously. Crampons remained unused, of course. We walked off down the usual ascent route and drove in convoy to Betws y Coed, which was astonishingly busy I thought, and where another cup of tea was had prior to driving home.

Carneddau from Moel Siabod

Thanks to David Coupe for a well organised trip.

A December IMC trip finds winter conditions against all expectation

Steve Culverhouse – December 2008

Despite Johnboy’s minor car issues (apparently the Pug became a low-rider when the suspension went bang on Friday morning), we met up successfully at Bury and made it to the very plush bunkhouse (Duvets, en-suite facilities!) in time for last orders in the Slaughtered Lamb Cross Foxes (though why they were cross was never clear).

After a brief guidebook discussion the whole party decided on Cyfrwy Arête on Cader Idris and by 8.30(!) we were on our way. An hour or so pull up the hillside leads to the foot of the Arête which is a striking feature on the horizon. Johnboy and Martin leapt into the lead and led us up 6 pitches and then a section of moving together to reach the summit plateau. A good route all the way including one “that can’t be Diff!” pitch which turned out to be jugs all the way (steep though!). The front parties made a quick nip to the summit and met up with the others to make the descent back down the tourist path. Martin, with shoulder only just recovering was having more trouble on the descent than the ascent and took a couple of tumbles – but thankfully no re-dislocations. A great day out with blue skies all day.

After a jolly evening in the bunkhouse Martin talked us into a look at winter climbing on Snowdon on the grounds that there was snow lying above 800m on Cader. I have to admit to being a bit dubious and thinking that if it was in nick then it would be heaving. Anyway, an even earlier start was decided on and by 7.30 we were out of the bunkhouse and on our way, with the temperature showing as -4.

We route-marched our way up the Miners’ track to the base of the NE face in increasingly snowy conditions and it became clear that the whole face was ‘in’ and in excellent nick. With Martin in the lead we all romped up the classic Central Trinity (I/II) in classic IMC fashion (i.e. with stacks of rock gear, ice gear and ropes, all left in the rucksacks for extra training) topping out just 50m away from the summit. There was only one other person on the route too (and he was behind us). A quick, and much appreciated, lunch break in the lee of the new caff and the descent was being discussed. Johnboy, Ian and I were immediately keen on Crib Goch whilst the others were for taking the Pyg track back. Eddie, Andy & Martin agreed that they were OK to wait for us at the car park whilst we did Crib Goch so we rapidly packed up and headed off as quick as we could. Crib Goch was in fantastic winter condition and Ian, showing no sign it was his first outing in crampons, led us across the ridge at a gallop and we made it back to Pen y Pass for a cuppa only a few minutes behind the others. An absolutely brilliant day out!

On Central Trinity, Snowdon

Martin’s account of the IMC New Year Trip

Martin Stevens – January 2009

Tuesday 30th December 2008

A team of Martin Hore, Steve Culverhouse, Sheila Norman, Mike Bayley and I gathered at Jesse James’ bunkhouse on the evening of Tuesday 30th and settled in. Guidebooks were consulted, plans made and forecast checked. It was certainly cold and clear during the night.

Wednesday 31st December 2008

A reasonably early start on Wednesday saw Martin H. and Steve head off to Cwm Glas for some kind of ice-adventure whilst Sheila, Mike and I packed for a go at the Snowdon Horseshoe. The merits of walking axes and crampons were considered and fitting your crampons to your boots before setting off proved challenging for Mike but fortunately a spare pair were available that could be made to fit. Eventually, however, we made a departure for Pen-y-Pass, having heard from Ian Thurgood and Christina Ennis (and Monty) that, ‘there’s lots and lots of fog on the motorways, so we might be later than anticipated’.

Off to Pen-y-Pass and up the PYG Track. Brilliant conditions – an almost cloudless blue sky, any mud firmly frozen solid and very little wind. We enjoyed a leisurely scramble over Crib Goch, taking in all the pinnacles and the splendid views. A pause before Garnedd Ugain and its easy scramble and then the grind up to a very busy Snowdon summit. The descent down to the col between Snowdon and Lliwedd proved as ever an unpleasant affair but the excellent easy scrambling over Lliwedd made up for that. The descent from Lliwedd was in the shade and decidedly colder than it had been on the sun on the ridge. Back on to the Miners Track at Llyn Llydaw and Mike spots ‘a tall man, a short woman with an ENORMOUS rucksack and a dog’ and suggests that could be Ian, Christina and Monty. We walked quickly to try to catch them but to no avail and at the carpark Mike was proved right.

Back to the bunkhouse via shopping in Llanberis for us, off to their campsite for Ian & Christina. With the falling light temperatures quickly dropped and by the time we got to the bunkhouse it was decidedly ‘blurry cold!’.

A very jolly evening was had, except by Monty who had to stay in the car. Port and cheese was served and Martin H’s laptop was pressed into service for an impromptu slideshow of the day’s digital pictures.

Thursday 1st January 2009

Very cold overnight but a super days weather ahead. We all tackle Sentries Ridge And Continuation, a Grade 2/3 *** scramble on Mynydd Mawr to the West of Snowdon. Excellent cloudless blue skies and a heavy frost but no breeze and the sunshine pleasantly warm. An easy woodland walk-in (during which we obeyed the roadside sign not to feed the bears) led to a hillside traverse with some wall and fence hopping before a scree-traverse to the base of the buttress. Ian and Monty chose an easier line to the summit, Steve, Martin H. and Christina made up one rope and Mike, Sheila and I another. Good, exposed scrambling on some suspect rock (various cries of ‘BELOW!’ at various points as loose bits detached, and one of ‘EEEK! Fuggit!’ as Christina proved that volume is not necessarily directly related to size when she fell off. Very pleasant exposure and a couple of tricky bits, some good pinnacles and a section of unprotected loose horrors, and a lot of fine ridge work and we were at the summit. An easy walk off and back to the bunkhouse for tea and cake – or back to a frozen tent for the campers and a splendid day out complete.

Approaching Sentries Ridge	On Sentries Ridge

A jolly evening with port and cheese and another impromptu slideshow.

Friday 2nd January 2009

The early start thing proving habit forming, we made another early start. Steve and Martin H. headed off in search of more ice, Ian and Christina went walking to the west of Snowdon and Mike, Sheila and I drove to Bethesda to tackle Crib Lem, a Grade 1 *** scramble. Not such fine conditions – windier, cloudier and although the air temperature was higher it felt much colder.

A leisurely walk in with Mike tackling the map-reading. A drinks pause and then up onto Crib Lem. A slog up a steep scree path and then onto the ridge. Good scrambling over pinnacles with some of the more challenging bits avoidable. Up onto the Carnedd Dafydd ridge and onto the Carnedd Dafydd for a spot of lunch in the ice-rimed shelter hoping for a view should the clouds break. We then backtracked a bit before walking up Carnedd Llywelyn and onto Foel Grach in thick cloud and a strong crosswind. A steep descent took us on a bearing off the top and right on target to our intended checkpoint before hitting the valley floor and the walk back to the car. Fortunately the ground was frozen hard or it would have been an unpleasant mud-fest. Unfortunately we had to consider a stream crossing, but the risk of iced boulders and the amount of water in the stream made crossing impractical so we took a longer way back than perhaps we’d have liked although we still got back without needing to resort to a head torch.

Another jolly evening featuring the never-ending supply of port and cheeses and another slideshow.

Saturday 3rd January 2009

Another early start – don’t these people understand the idea of a lie-in? Mike had picked up a cold and very sore throat so decides to head home straight after breakfast.

Ian, Christina and Monty decide to walk up Y Garn whilst the bunkhouse team have a go at Y Garn East Ridge, a Grade 2 ** scramble. More excellent conditions, blue skies, sunshine and everything frozen solid. Walking up from Ogwen Cottage we pause to wander carefully onto the froze Llyn Idwal before tackling the ridge. Grand scrambling with spells in the shade to let us relish being back in the sunshine again. Some exposed sections and a couple of places of difficulty but grand scrambling in a dramatic setting.

All too quickly we’re on the summit ridge and head up to Y Garn summit where we meet up with Ian & Christina and have some lunch. We walk on to Foel-goch where Ian, Christina and Martin H. choose to head back to Ogwen and the parked cars. Steve, Sheila and I continue to Carnedd y Filiast, pausing on the way to peer down Atlantic Slabs – it looks like there’s some excellent slab climbing to be had there. From the top of Carnedd y Filiast we take an off-path route aiming for the bunkhouse. Fortunately the ground is again like iron or this would have been a real test of boot waterproofing and sense of humour. It wasn’t a challenging walk back apart from finding footpaths (all fortunately frozen solid – it would have been a long session of wading through mud otherwise) in the failing light but it was interesting to see a different view of the area.

Back to the bunkhouse and well earned tea and cake.

Supper ensues, Ian and Christina joining us.

A last go at port and cheese and another slideshow.

Sunday 4th January 2009

Travel home, pausing at Betws-y-Coed in pursuit of new boots for Steve C – he left Ipswich with about 85 pairs and returned with more.

Aiming for Mid Wales, Louise and Pete somehow end up in South Wales

Louise Krug – December 2008

The trip didn’t get off to the best of starts. We had planned to go with the rest of the IMC towards Cader Idris, camping rather than bunkhouse, but when Pete rang the campsite he discovered it was closed  – water-logged. So with the choice of risking a bunkhouse, or going somewhere else we decided to go to Brecon – after all I have not had a single cold or infection for six months now and I want to keep it that way!

When we arrived at Brecon, things deteriorated. I did the first lob of the weekend in the campsite, landing flat on my back in the mud with a huge bang on the back of the head.

When we woke up, things then got worse as we discovered out bread had been eaten by something in the night. There were just a few slices on either side of a big hole that could be rescued for the day. The weather however was good – cold, crisp and clear. The sky was a strange colour – blue – but on the whole we rather liked that.

We had decided to do a mountain bike ride from the campsite and things started well. The ground was hard with the frost but not icy. Then we reached the second stage of the route – this was described as “many paths but all heading the same way” with the un-written subtext “and none of them any good”.  The hillside was thawing and the route went across many muddy streams. Here there is a dilemma. The easiest and driest option – cycle through, is closely related to the hardest and wettest option – try and fail to cycle through. This meant there was a lot of tiptoeing around mud baths – occasionally with the bike on the shoulder.  Add into this the fact that these paths are winding through the gorse.  And not all paths are end to end paths. So at one point Pete was heard to ask “why are you pushing your bike through that gorse patch” to be told rather snappily “because that is the easiest way forward”. Stage 3 was somewhat easier. Then began the notorious stage 4 which was described as the hardest bike push in the book.  This was the scene of the second lob of the  weekend. One minute I was pushing the bike uphill; the next I was on my back – again – with the bike on top of me! Once untangled I discovered I was OK, but extremely annoyed – I wasn’t even riding the thing!. Pick up bike and head on up. At one point I had the bike balanced between shoulder and head as I needed my hands for climbing up. Yes, we went scrambling with the bikes. At last we reached the top. Good views and, more to the point,  nice soft grass to lie on.

Here we needed a planning session. It was billed as a 3hr ride. We had been going 3 hrs and we were only 1/4 of the way around. We decided to continue onto the furthest point and then come back via some small roads (missing out technical forest, which didn’t sound appealing in the muddy icy conditions, and the pony trekking mud bath). The next sections were much easier; we picked up a loaf of bread in a village and were well on our way back when lob 3 occurred. Pete was cycling down the single track road, saw a car heading towards him and hit the brakes. Since he was on black ice, this led to disaster. Pete left the bike spinning towards the oncoming car. He himself executed a neat 180 turn with flip to end up travelling backwards down the hill in a nice arc curving away to the safety of the side of the road.   After much faffing, all was discovered to be basically OK, and at long last we made it back to the campsite, and put a lot of effort into trying to clean the bikes in the dark. We have since discovered that we failed.

Pub, for nerve restorer, pain relief and an extra portion of chips to supplement the dinner. Took the bread to bed with us. This turned out to be a bad move because in the morning we discovered the beastie (smelt like a fox) ate through the tent to get to the bread. Circular hole. 10cm diameter around the join of the groundsheet to fly.

The next morning was also a good hard frost – more of that blue sky stuff,  the tent glistened like Christmas decorations, so still that we sat watching the shadow of steam rising from the tea.  We decided to go for a walk. This turned out to involve no lobbing – despite a good amount of ice around. Just up the hill, over the hill fort (descending the steep north side was done carefully!) along the ridge, well togged up against a bitter cold wind. The ground was frozen so the peat bog was easy; the descent was down gentle grass. A good piece of entertainment was to be had watching the anomalous behaviour of sheep. They were marching in formation – a line of sheep stretching over 1/2 km. After about 10 minutes the front broke so that we had 3 streams of sheep (reminded us of the start of Dad’s Army). A tad tedious having to walk round the hill and back up onto the ridge line, but all in all very good. Journey home tedious.

Can I first say how honoured I am to have been asked by our esteemed president to present the annual review of the year.

As most of you know I’ve been on leave from the IMC climbing scene this summer. So, by way of a reversal of the normal literary disclaimer, let me make it absolutely clear that while I’m happy to take the credit for what follows, any factual errors are entirely the responsibility of those who provided me with the information. (And many thanks indeed for all the contributions).

Now, no doubt you’d suppose, I’d present this in prose. But to be slightly perverse, I’m going to try it in verse…………

Actually this was an idea that came to me a couple of years ago. Referring to an episode that year on Gimmer Crag, the verse in question was entitled “Whom should we thank for the fun on Spring Bank?” It was going to start something like this:

“Whom should we thank
For the fun on Spring Bank,
But the man, if you please,
Who wears tights with no knees?”

Sadly the “fun on Spring Bank” has receded far into the club’s memory banks by now, as, hopefully, have Steve G’s tights. So this evening’s poetic improvisation is entitled rather more prosaically “The Ballad of 2008”.

What follows is doubtless replete with scurrilous scansion and reprehensible rhyme, and could well turn out to be a complete disaster. So here’s hoping that everyone’s suitably lubricated, and willing to give the benefit of doubt to a humble “Bard of Ipswich”.

Here goes – “The Ballad of 2008”

Friends! Set down your beers
And lend me your ears,
For I’ve tales to unfold
Of deeds daring and bold.

It’s the annual story
Of lost pride and glory,
Blind panic and fear.
Yes, it’s “lob of the year”

Let me start down in Dovedale.
Here’s rumoured a good tale
Of crumbling rock layers
And high-flying belayers.

It’s Steve C on George,
High above the dark gorge,
With the vultures surveying
Our Johnboy’s belaying.

Blame a crucial snapped hold
From what I’ve been told, For,
as rocks struck John’s toe,
Steve was forced to let go,
And JB left the ground
With expletives profound.

If this story’s not made up
They’ve just pushed the grade up
To E3 or more
Must be E2 for sure.

In arctic Lofoten
lobbing’s “verboten”.
(Seems the absence of night time
Discourages flight time.)
lobs shouldn’t happen
At Pianokrakken.

But would this prevent
One of such stubborn bent
As our own Stephen Gray?
No, he just had to display
That gravity there
Is less than down here.

Meanwhile Grit, west and east
Saw a veritable feast
Of top lobbing action
From the IMC faction.

Where should we begin?
Why, of course, at Crow Chin,
Where a man of the mountain
Was almost past counting
The lobs he could manage
In one day at Stanage.

Marmoset was the climb,
Andy H doing time,
But not quite prevailing
‘Spite some desperate flailing.

Andy also, I hear,
Spent some time in the air
When he took a long fall
High upon Calver Wall.
And there’s also a log
On his UKC blog
Of an interesting day
Soloing E5 6a.

One fine sunny day,
Rather earlier, in May,
I hear it was Guy
Who went flying by,
with customary fervour
He tackled L’Horla at Curbar.

Then, to find something bigger,
They walked up to Higgar,
Where accounts are agreed
‘Twas again grandpa Reid
Who wiped off his smile
As he lobbed from The File.

After four falls, no less,
Poor Guy’s hands were a mess.
If you can’t jam, it’s true,
This VS is E2.

At Froggatt I’m told
Stephen Gray was involved,
While upping the ante
On Strapiombante.

Rockfax might deem
This a “good first extreme”,
But its tail has a sting,
A potential huge swing,
Which left Carol, it’s said,
Nearly kicked in the head.

But let’s now shift our gaze
West, to far Castle Naze,
Where young Caroline’s game F
or a climb called “No Name”.

Says severe in the book.
Should be well worth a look,
But the handholds were slimy,
The footholds quite shiny,
And a Wild Country Rock
Is still suffering from shock.

Later on in the year,
Back on Curbar I hear,
We’ll find Martin Stevens.
Always better than evens
The chance of a lob
When he’s on the job.

If there’s truth in the tale
His complexion was pale
After hitting the ground
When his gear proved unsound.

Bones could have been cracked,
But with humour intact,
The most sought after news
Was the size of his bruise.

Elsewhere in this year,
There have been, I fear,
A full-scale procession
Of small indiscretions.

So this must be my cue
To recall just a few.

Bob the Butcher at Baslow
Found reasons to lie low,
While Adrian at Birchen
Found the Fo’c’sle too searching,

Michael B on Trapeze
(Should have made that with ease),
And young Merv. took a fall
Off of Ash Tree Wall.

Now it’s high time, I feel,
For me to reveal
Who’s won the award
In this year of our Lord.

But before I declare
The top lobber this year,
Let’s spare a wee thought
For those leaving with nought.

There can be but one winner,
One ultimate sinner,
But surely it’s true
That honour is due
To all who took part
In this dubious art.

So friends, get off your arses,
Lift up your glasses,
And give us a cheer
For the Lobs of the Year!

And now for the awards!

Before we get to the main event, there are a few preliminary gongs to present.

First the “Duracell” award for sheer quantity of climbing. With more than 300 routes completed this year it has to go to – Andrew Hansler.

Next the “IMC Climbing Achievement” award for the climber or climbers showing the greatest tenacity in moving up through the grades. This year the Award goes jointly to John Buchan and Karen Roberts for their first E1 leads on Brutus in Dovedale, with a sporting commendation to Aaron Willis and Gavin Atkins for achieving F7c in Kalymnos.

Next the “IMC Couch Potato” award for the climber or climbers showing the greatest tenacity in moving up through the grades without ever setting foot on the rock. This one, for breaking through to E3 by simply reading the new Lundy guidebook, goes to yours truly, ably seconded by Mervyn Lamacraft.

The “Hooker Prize” for contributions to local literature goes to all our contributors to this year’s splendid IMC newsletters: Steve Culverhouse, Gunni Page, Adrian Fagg, Ian Thurgood, Carol Fowles, Caroline Goldsworthy, any others I’m sure I’ve forgotten, and, of course, the editor in chief, Guy Reid.

For their contribution to national climbing literature (the new Lundy Guidebook again) we must honour Simon Chandler, Steve Culverhouse, and Mervyn Lamacraft (with apologies for the spelling, Mervyn, when you get to read it).

The RSPCA “Kindness to Animals” award goes to Peter and Louise Krug for their generosity in allowing Reynard the Fox to share their breakfast.

Then for spectacular geographical achievements we must acknowledge the following:

• For the highest altitude reached – the summit of Mont Blanc – Mr Eddie Webster
• For the furthest distance travelled East – Lake Baikal, Siberia – Dr Karen Roberts.
• For the furthest West – Arizona – Dr Simon Chandler
• For the furthest South – Capetown – Dr Stephen Culverhouse, the Revd. Ian Thurgood, and Dame Christina Ennis.
• And for the furthest North – Lofoten – Dr Stephen Culverhouse, Professor Carol Fowles, and Lt. Gen. Sir Stephen Twistleton-Wickham-Gray Bt.

And now the main event – the lob of the year 2008.

The 6 club members short listed for this prestigious award are:

• For George, Dovedale – Stephen Culverhouse
• For Strapiombante, Froggatt and Pianokrakken, Lofoten – Stephen Gray
• For No Name, Castle Naze, Caroline Goldsworthy
• For L’Horla, Curbar and The File, Higgar Tor – Guy Reid
• For Marmoset, Stanage and Calver Wall, Curbar – Andrew Hansler
• For Pale Complexion, Curbar and other minor indiscretions – Martin Stevens.
• With such high calibre action this has been a particularly difficult year for the judges.

We have of course been guided by the very important club rule which states that any falls resulting in serious injury, or the potential for serious injury, are automatically disqualified.

This year the judges were particularly swayed by the quality of the climbs from which the lobbing took place. In fact we decided it would be appropriate to introduce a brand new SI unit of measurement that combines the number of lobs with the number of guidebook stars. This new unit has been unofficially christened the “lobstar”.

So the winner this year is the man who confined his lobbing to two of the finest three star routes on Peak Gritstone, amassing an unassailable total in just one weekend of no less than 21 “lobstars”. Yes, it’s got to be – Guy Reid!

For an explanation of ‘Lob’, ‘Lobbing’ and ‘Lob of the Year’ please refer to ‘The Noble and Ancient Art of Lobbing‘ page

2008

This years LOTY awards ceremony was held at the prestigeous Masha restaurant, and was compered in verse by Martin Hore.

This year the judges introduced a brand new SI unit of measurement that combines the number of lobs with the number of guidebook stars. This new unit has been unofficially christened the “lobstar”. The winner of this years LOTY is the man who confined his lobbing to two of the finest three star routes on Peak Gritstone, amassing an unassailable total in just one weekend of no less than 21 “lobstars”. Yes, it’s got to be – Guy Reid!

You can the full transcript here.

The winner of this years award is, once again, Steve Culverhouse for his work on ‘The File’ at Higgar Tor. The master of ceremonies was Peter Krug, whos speech may be read here.

You can read a full transcript of the awards ceremony, written by Peter Krug.

“… what followed developed into an adversarial contest of truly epic proportions, best described as ‘The Unprintable versus the Unconquerable’. According to my source, the lobs were many and spectacular, with air time accompanied by wild flapping of arms in a vain attempt to maintain altitude.”

You can read a full transcript of the awards ceremony, written by Martin Hore. Martin opened his awards speech with the lines … “In revenge it falls this year to me to take on the mantel of judge, jury, chief prosecutor, private investigator and raconteur”.

Awarded to Martin Hore after “highly dubious decision making by one of the most biased juries ever to deliberate on behalf of the IMC”. There is no transcript of this award ceremony, which was frankly a drunken ramble.

The winner of this years LOB of the Year with an early start to his young climbing and Lobbing career … Chris Harbottle.

For a full transcript of the awards ceremony, click here.

The winner in 2001, for the style in which he lobbed, the location in front of twenty or more bemused onlookers, the equamity with which he handled the event and, most importantly, for the spectacular effect on the belayer who was hauled forward by the momentum and ending up kissing the rock, has to be Dave Tonks.

For a full transcript of the awards ceremony, click here.

For a sterling effort to reduce his leader’s lobbability by running backwards, like all good belayers should be prepared to do. The Belayer of the Year goes to our illustrious President Steve C.

2000 Lob of the Year

For his impeccable ability to pick out what must be the narrowest of landing places the Newsletter Editor has ever seen in his years of climbing, and he probably will never climb with me again because of this, Lob of the Year 2000 goes to Mark G.

But our winner this year knew that distance wasn’t everything and that style counted too. The venue is Castle Naze and a certain familiar name is leading Left Hand Footstool. Mark G., on belay, takes up the story:

“One nice large Hex for protection, then a dyno for a small hold on the adjacent slab. The heart flutters whilst the finger grip holds but then slowly uncurls. Quick shouts of ‘take in, take in!‘ are followed by the fall, inverting en-route to end up with the Gearman’s head at waist level”.

The excuse produced afterwards was that he was just re-introducing Mark to leading and wanted to show that lobbing was perfectly safe. So the winner this year by a short head: proving that he’s equally adept on both the limestone and gritstone is:- Keith L.

This year’s runner up, for participating in the highest number of lobs this year, is the Isle of Lundy. As the Island couldn’t make it to the award ceremony – a good job, or there would have been no room for the rest of us! – Clare P. collected it on its behalf, well, she seemed so attached to a small part of it.

1998 Lob of the Year

The decision for the main prize this year was a foregone conclusion. He has the style and determination to carry on lobbing when others might have decided to stay on, has made the motto “been there, climbed it, fell off it” his own, this year’s winner – Steve C.

The out-and-out joint winners in this new category are obvious. This team has been out there for the last couple of Scottish winter seasons – I hesitate to use the term ice-climbing, given what they’re actually going up. More recently they followed in the footsteps of the master, Mick himself, by attacking the chalk cliffs of the South Coast, and defending themselves as the cliffs fought back! – it’s the ice axe twins, Keith B. and Mike J.

1997 Lob of the Year

The star of this tale was climbing with Jenny M. and John P., on “Beeston Eliminate”, a multi-pitch HVS at Beeston Tor, in the Peaks. The 3rd pitch of this climb is a 22-metre traverse, starting with a difficult step down and across. Jenny led across, protecting the pitch entirely with threaded wires. Our heroine went next and had just started the step down when she found herself unable to hold on, quite a serious position, as she was about 15ft from the next runner and level with it. “What now?” she shouted as her fingers slipped off the hold. “RUN!” was John’s advice. And she did, executing a neat semicircular trot down, across and up the other side. Then back again, and again, in a series of diminishing arcs until finally coming to rest. An exciting pendulum for the spectators (and participant), and notable for the elegance of execution. So for her antics seconding at Beeston Tor, this year’s winner is Carol F.

Combined with his efforts in previous years, Tim B. has now racked up enough air miles to gain his pilot’s licence, although the committee recommends that he give up on the low-level aerobatics and concentrate on vertical distance rather than horizontal.

1996 Lob of the Year

Well, this year’s winner has certainly made his name, so now it’s time for him to claim his “glorious hour”… For being one half of the synchronised lobbing team, and for his well-publicised activities elsewhere, Lob of the Year 1996 goes to the club’s star of stage and TV screen, Martin H.

This was the year of the Club’s Spanish “El Lobbo”, the French “Le Lob” and the lack of a German “Der Lob”. This apart the coveted prize goes to joint winners Mark S. and Claire P. for their combined antics at Stanage Edge.

This year’s Belayer of the Year prize has to go to another newcomer, Keith L., for his method of belaying demonstrated one evening on Curbar Edge. He put the rope through the belay plate and attached the karabiner. He then calmly unzipped his fly, reached in with the karabiner, clipped to something, and started belaying. Very cool Keith, but what’s the breaking strain?!

1994 Lob of the Year

This year, despite a severe cooling off at the end of the season, there could really be only one winner. For his fine efforts on Kinder, and his great route-finding on “Slippery People”, this year’s Lob of the Year goes to Tim B.

The judges took a long time deliberating over this, but, after consulting the rule book, they decided the winner was Steve J., for dropping Scott McR. in Tenerife and dropping himself (on abseil) in Spain Perhaps next year he’ll be in action in this country.

1993 Lob of the Year

The judges were undecided between the merits of pure distance, against injury, against overall performance throughout the year. In the end, consistency won the day, which made the prize almost uncontested. He’s lobbed in Staffordshire, he’s fallen in Derbyshire, he was involved in Wales – for a gutsy performance, when he just never gave up, this year’s Lob of the Year goes to Peter H.

An aspiring leader gains confidence

Sally Southall

Way back you may remember an article from Madame Pres in which she described the satisfaction gained from teaching two beginners to “trust their feet”; well I was that soldier . . .or at least one of them.

It seems appropriate, especially now that she has stepped down, to thank Caroline for all her support, sarcasm and endless patience at the other end of the rope while I did, indeed, learn to “trust my feet”.

I’ll try not to forget all the many other handy hints on climbing safely that are stored in my head ready to be dragged out in moments of sheer terror, exhilaration or just damned good fun

Now that I’m beginning to get the hang of this leading malarkey, I might even try to “push my grade” soon . . . well, maybe.

Thanks also go to all those other brave souls who have assisted me (and hopefully will again), and to Mike Hams for the many embarrassing photographs – yes, I know you’re laughing at me not with me!

Kissing the Master’s feet (click on image to view in Flickr)

Having fun in Dorset

For some the mere mention of climbing at Swanage instils fear and dread! OK, so it is generally steep, intimidating limestone sea cliff climbing and doesn’t have a wealth of quality low grade routes akin to the Peak District gritstone fleshpots, but good times can be had if you’re prepared for the whole ‘experience’ and not just route ticking!

Here is an account of a typical IMC Swanage trip.

We eventually arrived at Tom’s Field about 11.15pm Friday night having spent thirty minutes just getting off the A12 onto the M25! Steve and Guy had already gone to bed as they had arrived on Thursday and had been climbing all day Friday. Simon Chandler, Alex & Andy had arrived not long before us and had their tents up.
A disturbed night followed with some truly awful neighbours being very noisy in to the early hours of the morning.

Saturday dawned with fog and a general damp feeling in the air so much faffing ensued. Simon and crew went off to Subluminal in typically optimistic spirits whilst Steve, Guy, Christina and I pondered some more. About 10ish the sun was doing its best to break through the fog so it was finally agreed to walk to Blacker’s Hole as Steve had some stuff he wanted to have a go at and there are a few VS’s for C and me to have a crack at. And there is the added bonus of a scramble approach rather than abseil, in the event of any escapes required! The fog cleared on the way and things were looking good. Steve and Guy set off to warm up on Tobacco Road (VS 4c) but got seduced by an E1 (can’t remember the name – Rufty’s Roll Up E1 5b ** Ed.), which left Tobacco Road for C and me to bag. What a great route – although a bit steep at the final headwall. While S and G went off to do another E1, C ‘n’ me did Zig-Zag (seems like a popular route name!) which used to be S4a but now upgraded to VS4c as the second pitch has apparently suffered from various rock falls. Not easy to protect perhaps, and a bit wobbly near the top, but definitely not VS4c – a good route that is nice and low in the grade.

After that, as S&G set off for Tobacco Road, C ‘n’ me walked over to Guillemot Ledge to do Batt Crack (VS4c) as recommended by Mr C – hereafter known as Sandbag Steve! All started well as a nice couple let us use their abseil rope, which saved a little time, and we found the start of the route with no problems. But, all good things must come to an end – what a chuffin’ nightmare that route is (VS4c MA!). We both did at least manage to get to the top of the thing but not without a Herculean struggle and much sitting on gear in the very strenuous corner crack of the first pitch – this is more like the Swanage we know and love! We topped out at around 18.30/18.45 just as the sun was sliding round the headland. As we were walking back to Tom’s Field Sandbag Steve – complete with headtorch – came wandering up the path looking for us (but no rescue team – we weren’t THAT late!), and we got back to tent about 19.15 after a brilliant day out.

All the rest of the IMC contingent were back, fed, watered and waiting to go off to The Square & Compass in Worth Matravers as a change to The Kings Arms in Langton Matravers. So, a quick heat up and scoff of curried chick peas (yum, I hear you cry!) and we were off on the two mile walk to said hostelry

What a wacky gem of a pub! Stacked full of country charm with so many delights: gravity fed ale from the barrel; real ciders and parries; a room full of fossils and stuffed animals; furniture made form driftwood; friendly locals mixing with weekenders and off-grid eco-warriors alike; and with the added bonus of live music most Saturday nights.

This particular Saturday’s entertainment was “Moveable Feast”, a brilliant folk-based band with a phenomenal fiddle player (stunning cover version of The Devil Goes Down To Georgia). Needless to say, we all stayed longer than expected and didn’t get to bed until nearly one in the morning – but at least the noisy neighbours from the previous night had moved on.

Sunday dawned without a cloud in the sky. Despite a little cider-induced resistance, I managed to convince C that we really should go for a last long training run before the following Sunday’s Felixstowe half marathon. We got back to the campsite just after 9am to find S&G packed and about to leave for Durlston Country Park (keen burgers!). Simon & crew were not so sharp off the mark, which was good really as we had arranged for Simon to travelling back with us as his friends live in Cambridge. By the time we got sorted out and a decision made it was about 11.30 before we arrived at Dancing Ledge for a spot of sport climbing. Well, how hard can it be?

I did at least manage to dog my way up John Craven’s Willy Warmer – supposedly the easiest route on the crag at F5+ – and got up a F6a that Simon had lead after I had backed off it. In the end it was decided that the place was not for mere mortals so we packed our bags and moved along the coast to Hedbury Quarry. Tip of the day – do NOT rely on the Rockfax diagram and approach directions! Eventually we arrived at Hedbury at about 4.30pm and had a play on some much more amenably graded routes, although Simon did manage an excellent looking F6a+ over some beautiful flowstone that no one else wanted to second.

We left Tom’s Field at 6.30pm but still got caught in traffic queues on the A31 and batches of slow moving traffic on the M3.

For the more adventurous, this is how Steve C described his Sunday.

Guy and I headed off to Boulder Ruckle (far East) on Sunday to try a few routes around Old Faithful. Our original plan to start on an HVS was scotched when we saw the route – it was described as fingery, but the guidebook failed to mention overhanging and unprotected. We’d done the other HVSs in the area so we picked an E1 called October Lady. Guy led the 1st pitch with no problems but the excesses of the previous night caught up with me on the crux pitch and after much whimpering and dangling on gear a convoluted abseil off in 2 pitches was arranged. We made it out, via Old Faithful, for lunch at 3 pm in the end. After a bit of refuelling we decided to head down and do battle again and managed to restore some honour with an ascent of Snowdrop – this time with Guy on the crux pitch!

To find out what happened on Monday follow the link.
The Cake of Mortality

Having started this piece saying that good times can be had, the astute reader will have spotted that none of the routes mentioned are below VS. That’s not to say there aren’t any lower grade routes, but we’ve all climbed most of them before and the quality climbing is generally (although not exclusively) at VS and above. It’s definitely not good for beginners, but there are some areas that are reasonably easy to access with some V Diffs and Severes to have a go at. So, why not work towards getting on one of next year’s Swanage trips? Just cut your leading teeth on grit, hone some skills on the more readily accessible inland limestone, and give it a go!

….. but finally, a cautionary postscript. The Cliffs of Swanage have a reputation to defend and will do their damnedest to catch you underwears!

A small epic in Swanage

Some of you may remember Andy Hemsted, a chap I met through UKC and who took my place on The 2006 Lundy trip. He is the current Newsletter Editor for his local club – The Cave and Crag – and he has told me of an occasional column they have which goes under the title of “The Cake of Mortality”.

It is based on the tenet that “to err is human” and that in doing so one tastes said delicacy.

In a recent edition a chap reports how he set out on a well-known walk in North Wales but when the weather turned a little nasty and he decided to head for home by a shorter route he discovered that the map he had packed was for the area just south of where he actually was. Oops. He told the tale with a wry smile of embarrassment knowing that though his local knowledge and compass-using skill had got him home safely it was a timely reminder to check and double check before setting out.

This is not a place to embarrass others but somewhere an errer can admit to, and mayhap laugh at, their own error allowing all to learn from it.

Recently I “enjoyed” a slice of said cake whilst climbing with Steve Culverhouse in Swanage.
Forgetting to take a rope down with me was just the start, and I think studying the guidebook and the route description with a bit more care before I set off may be on the cards.

As Steve has written about this so eloquently I’ll let him tell the tale.

“As the weather was set to continue fair after the September IMC weekend in Swanage Guy and I decided to stay on for an extra day and on Monday it was Boulder Ruckle again, but this time the Marmolata area. We eyed up The Tool (E2) as a potential ‘warm-up’ but in the end started on The Heidelberg Creature (VS 4c) – and if you thought I was sandbagging you on Batt Crack Ian, you ain’t seen nothing yet!

After battling The Heidelberg Creature the mojo was returning a little so we decided that it was time for The Tool. The plan was for Guy to lead the 5a first pitch and me to do the 5b second pitch. I abbed down first and things started badly when Guy appeared and promptly started holding his head in his hands and making D’oh noises – No rope! A quick glance at the guidebook put the pitches as 23m and 15m so we decided we could do it on a doubled single. So Guy set off on and took a cramped belay where the Rockfax topo showed, saying ‘this belay’s horrible’. I followed and managed to contort in next to Guy and swapped the gear and we looked up at the start of the top pitch. Just above our belay spot was a nice corner with good foot ledges so we decided to move the belay up a few feet so Guy could avoid a widow’s hunch. After sorting that out I set out again up the nice corner though we were both a bit confused by the guidebook which mentioned no corners but a ‘step left to a thin crack’. Ah well, the corner looked nice and was the obvious line (and there were no thin cracks off left) so I set off assuming that we had somehow got off route onto a VS. So up the corner to a small roof I went and then stopped – the roof looked hard and so did the face off to the left. Guy had obviously been attentively belaying for at this point a voice came up. ‘Are there some pegs there?’ – There were I replied. ‘Ah, well that’s the belay for Pitch 1 then ‘ I looked around to the left again and, sure enough, a thin crack. So I set up belay Number Three under the roof and brought Guy up again. At this point my motivation levels had dropped (the face looked rather hard and anyway I’d just led 2 pitches) so the gear was handed over to Guy who proceeded to power up the sustained 5b final pitch. We finished at 5.00pm in the end and made it back to Ipswich at 9.30…

Good old Swanage eh!”

Guy (aided and abetted by Steve Culverhouse)