Early-season conditions.

 

What there was of Winter, was continuing cold, but dry, and there was no significant snowfall until the end of January. So what guidebooks from former years call "early season conditions" prevailed for most of the time. 

NETHERMOST GULLEY, HELVELLYN.

After our rather brutal day in Crotched Gully ("Aviemore in a Flash"), I hoped there might be Climbing in the Lakes. Mr Harrison pronounced (correctly) that the only route in condition would be Nethermost Gulley. The guide book reckons the right branch is the more interesting whilst "the left branch may contain a small pitch in  early-season". But as we walked towards the route with Dave Whiffen and Magic Johnson as a second team, we saw the right branch just wasn't there at all. Because of "early-season conditions" the left branch (as it turned out) now offered five or six short steep steps, (which would normally be banked out).





However this wasn't apparent at first. We made an efficient and aggressive start by going halfway up the first pitch before gearing up. Richard grabbed the end of the rope and stomped off upwards. It's not exactly a well-published technique for the SECOND to carry the rack on a multi pitch climb; however Harrison hadn't needed it. He simply poked a couple of axes in the snow when the rope ran out.

In due course I trundled on straight past, complete with rack. We managed the next 300 ft in two "alpine style" pitches: - I started to encounter the short steep steps and put some gear in. "Half Rope". "Full Rope". With all the rope out, Harrison started to follow me up and I kept on going


At a steep narrow bit I caught up with a team who had started before us, and belayed. Their second got his call and left;  Richard arrived and led through.

 The rope ran fully out  -  a tug  -  unhitch the belay sling and follow up the steep bit (hope you're secure up there Rich!). The rope stayed tight in front of me as Richard kept going. Round the slight corner I see the rope disappear over the cornice: - up and across it to find Richard stood on the plateau hauling in. Time to have a brew and wait for Dave and Magic. Nice one.



CENTRAL GULLEY, BEINN AN DOTHAID

Two weeks later Howard and I got to Crianlairich on a Friday night. The early morning just wasn't cold enough, and I had an uneasy instinct about the ice on Beinn Udlaidh. (which proved correct ) so we deftly changed plan and and parked at Achallater Farm. Walking in to the north-east corrie, the heather was soft, brown, and not frozen but the large white finger of Central Gully beckoned against a blue sky. Below that is a narrow gully, and below that again a frozen (almost) gill. We started at the very bottom of the gill to take in the ice, partly rotten, part sometimes good, and it wasn't long before the series of little steep steps prompted an ice screw some way above Howard's belay. Two pitches of Gill scrambling on ice led to a snow/grass traverse ramp (probably the normal start) and then the 4 foot wide gully with vertical rock walls

<<<PICTURE:_ gulley line bottom left to upper right

 

Owing to "early-season conditions" again, this offered an ice pitch at the entry, and another bigger one at the exit. Into a column of clear water ice, I turned an ice screw, watching it inside the ice like a fish in a tank. Then we climbed out on to the large upper snowfield/shallow gully.


There was a lot of this: - once again it was moving together or full length pitches, but even so it took four of them.

Some walkers peered over the cornice as I brought Howard up to the final Deadman, then it was over the top, coil rope, and a three-minute walk to the summit to soak up the views in excellent weather.

 

Altogether, because of taking in the lower Gill, we climbed 330 metres/1000 feet. The route was at a most amenable angle and generally user-friendly; but with high marks for its length and variety, and finish close to an attractive summit. It was Howard's first winter route. The following weekend the temperature rose and winter largely melted away. Howard can now join the throng of wistful - eyed climbers hoping for "just a few decent days next year" before global warming spoils the job entirely.

ANDREW ECCLES