Shunting

The Petzle Shunt all set up ready to go.

I hadn't planned on going climbing today, but because of the freezing fog in the morning and the poor road conditions, plans were changed as my guests for the day felt it unwise to make the 100mile journey north with the current road conditions. I mopped around the house for a while, my eyes kept looking out to the clear blue skies and my brain kept telling me that I should be outside enjoying the beautiful day.

A beautiful day: looking west towards the Northern Lakes.

However, I didn't fancy walking; it was a bit late in the day to get anywhere of interest. Boating isn't really on the cards at the moment; not only are the rivers empty and the water cold, but I just feel like I need a break from it all so I can get some of my motivation back for the sport. I was therefore left with climbing, but then that could be tricky; the snow would be a problem on all but the steepest pieces of Cumbrian rock. This obviously limits your options; your either left with the Bowderstone or Armathwaite's Sandy Bay area for bouldering or some of the steeper Lakeland routes. I didn't fancy either option, and the lack of a partner would obviously prove problematic for any roped climbing.

Some of the locals checking me out on the walk-in.

I eventually decided upon an afternoon session at Cumrew Crag, but the lack of a belayer was still a problem. However, I had my Shunt so it was possible to do some soloing, or shunting as some call it, but I like to think of it as more roped-bouldering; once the rope's fixed down a line and your clipped in you can work the moves to your heart's content and enjoy the simplicity of moving on the rock.

A slightly damp and frozen, in places, Main Wall at Cumrew Crag.

However, this simplicity comes at a price; to get to this point there is a fair bit of faffing needed in order to fix the rope down the required line. Luckily I enjoy this kind of thing: playing with ropes, knots and such like, so I soon had the rope fastened off to three anchors and trailing down the required line. The crag in some ways lent itself to shunting as the routes are fairly straight up and down and once you've fixed the rope you don't need to worry about re-belays and such like to prevent rope wear; just a simple rope protector was needed.

An equalised and tensioned three point anchor for the fixed rope.

I started out on The Croglin Vampire (VS, 4c), a route I have onsighted before, but I found it hard as the snow at the top of the crag was melting down parts of the route meaning some of the vital footholds were a bit damp and others were frozen, but I soldiered on and eventually topped out. I walked back around to the bottom and had another quick blast before moving the rope over to the left, down Black Cat (E1, 5b).

The Croglin Vampire (VS, 4c) ready to go on a Shunt.

Black Cat was probably the driest route at the crag, however the light began to fade as I started up the final third of the route where the crux was. I had no choice other than to abandon ship. I prussiked to the top of the crag and began stripping the fixed rope. This, however, did mean I got to see a lovely sunset over the top of Blencathra from the top and on the walk back down to the van.

The sun setting in the west with Blencathra just to the right of the glowing aubade.

Good lines, stay safe and see you on the wet stuff...
Iain

Christmas Day: Bouldering Time

The view from the top of the Bowderstone: Low Scawdel and Nitting Haws.

I've just got back from an afternoon of bouldering at what has been described as the premier single boulder in the northern hemisphere, The Bowderstone. I think this might be a slight exaggeration, but don't get me wrong, it's an impressive piece of rock and the problems are some of the best around, but if your off form, or not feeling that strong, you won't be able to pull hard enough to make the moves, and you'll come away feeling demotivated and unenthusiastic about your climbing.

The south face of the Bowderstone.

This was the case for me today. I worked three problems - The Rib (V4), Picnic Sarcastic (V7) and The Crack (V4) - and to be honest I didn't get any further than the first move on each of them and I've visited the boulder on one previous occasion and very nearly completed The Crack. I wasn't very happy, to say the least, and as I walked back down the snowy path, to the van, I wondered whether all this training of late has been in vain.

On reflection, it cannot have been; I am climbing better than I have ever climbed inside and there it is, the most important word of all, inside. All of this training has been inside and as Dave MacLeod says: "if you are training to climb real rock, training on something as close to it as possible is a rather good idea" and therefore I need to address this problem in my next phase of training, which I plan to start in January, when the new semester at University begins.

Latching the two finger pocket on The Rib (V4).

Anyhow, less of the deep analysis, lets look at today for what it was. One single day of the year. Yes it was Christmas Day, but still it was only a day where one bad performance doesn't mean one wasted week, month or year. It's just a day and today's afternoon was probably one of the better ways to spend Christmas Day when her in doors is, at work, on a twenty-four hour shift.

Establishing my feet in the hope of making one more move on Picnic Sarcastic (V7).

What surprised me the most about today was how many cars were on the roads, but more importantly how all the main car parks, which serve classic Lake District routes, like Sharp Edge for example, were as full as they normally are. Obviously many people enjoy spending Christmas outside in the hills, away from the crowds[!], and the usually predictable Christmas Day TV and to be honest who can blame them.

Good lines, stay safe and see you on the wet stuff...
Iain

Christmas Eve: Winter Wonderland

I did something I've not done in a while today. I went walking. Ok, for the astute out there obviously I do a lot of walking, as do all of us, but I went walking in the Lake District for the first time since, looking back over logbooks and such like, October it seems. The Lake District, like Carlisle on Tuesday, and the entire UK, has been covered with a blanket of snow and on this basis I decided on a very short walk, with little ascent and descent, which started just off the aorta of the North Lakes, the A66.

Looking back to Blencathra as we cross farmland to Shundraw.

The walk crossed farmland before making a short climb to the top of Low Rigg. We dropped down to the col between Low and High Rigg - where St. John's in the Vale church sat, content with a white topping - before climbing up to the 357m high summit of High Rigg.

A sign pointing us on our way, with High Rigg in the background.

We did eventually descend off High Rigg to the west and by crossing farmland, once again, were able to take in the stone circle at Castle Rigg. The views from here weren't as impressive as I had hoped for as the cloud had started rolling in off the higher fells, which surround the late Neolithic/early Bronze Age monument and all that was required was a short walk back along the roads to get back to the start.

Looking out west over a section of the stone circle.

More pictures of the day can be found here.

Good lines, stay safe and see you on the wet stuff...
Iain

Wishing you a Merry Christmas...

... with a couple of pictures of a snow covered Carlisle. Like many places up and down the UK, Carlisle is covered in a blanket of white snow. I've got very little to do today, I am suppose to be finishing an assignment, but I am trying to put that off (it is the holidays for Pete's sake) so to waste some time I went for a walk along the banks of the River Eden to capture Carlisle's winter wonderland.

The Swifts Gold Course, which was closed.

The War Memorial in Rickerby Park.

The River Eden, which was out of it's bank a little over a month ago.

A random sledger in Rickerby Park.

More pictures can be found here.

Good lines, stay safe and see you on the wet stuff...
Iain