Clambering at Creag Dubh and The Camel.

Back in sunny Scotland, I just had a nice wee trip in rather glorious weather. Time constraints prevented heading too far afield, so Central Highlands it was. Creag Dubh is one of those crags that keeps on giving - there is so much at the low-mid extreme standard that there always seems to be something to do. My main inspiration is some of the harder Great Wall routes, but warm weather and general lack of both fitness and confidence discouraged that. Seepage discouraged Ticket To Ride, laziness discouraged Barrier Wall, but a dry Waterfall Buttress provided a good opportunity to sample the semi-aqueous delights there. A couple of good routes - one very much in the classic "easy but bold jugpulling" Creag Dubh style - got me rather syked for more.

However variety is the spice of life and B-dawg was keen to get humping The Camel, and that seemed like a good plan to me, so after the usual nice & cheap Newtonmore camping and greasy spoon breakfast complete with irredeemably awful coffee, we trotted up there in a mere hour. The day was warm, the Camel was cold and the cobbles could feel cruel to numb fingers, but I managed a few routes including the deservedly classic Stone Of Destiny, and yes, you can ride on the stone :D


Unfortunately my lack of fitness took it's toll on the hugely harder classic F7a, and I slumped off. More stamina training needed, more indication that despite these fun trips I'm still treading water, and it made me grump like an Orc:



P.S. Left over from a previous blog but cleverly continuing the C-theme, here is some more Caithness Culture:


This year there were 10 different tractor magazines in the Wick Newsagent, rather than merely 8. I was stuck what to buy and ended up so confused I bought a copy of Climb instead (which coincidentally had an article on Bohuslan).

Sweden the photos.

Bivvy hut in front of the lake.

Lake in front of the bivvy hut.

Typical walk-in at Seglora.

The amazing Afterburner.

More Afterburner.

How can anyone possibly resist??

Typically chilled out climbing vibes at Galgeberget.

Weekly washtime!

View out from Svaneberget.

Nice route at Utby in Gothenburg itself.

Same.

And another nice route at Utby.

Same. Funky rock there.

Dunno what it is but in the words of my mum: "looks friendly tho;-)"

Dude where does the line go??

Somehow not getting too lost...

Sweden the ticklist.

Bohuslan:
(5 days climbing)

Skalefjall:
En Liten Bit Granit 6 **
Granitebiten 7- ***
Machete 6 *

Hallinden:
Prismaster 6- *** (second)
Afterburner 6+ **

Fjedan:
Petroleum 5+ ** (s)
Bideford Dolphin 5- * (s)

Galgeberget:
Galgen 6- *
Ater Komsten 4+ ** (s)
Ballabaget 6+ **

Haller:
Mallorol 6- ***
Chapman 6 **

Granite Grotto:
??? F6c
Spektakel F6a
Islandshäst 6b+ **

Norden's Ark:
Jarven 5+ *
Snoleoparden 6+ **

Svanberget:
Hostsonaten 6+ **
Bergkirstis Polka 6- ***

Hogberget:
Lattja 6+ **


Utby:
(1 day climbing)

Snett A Vanster 6 ***
Ants In My Pants 6- ** (s)
Panda 6- ***
??? 5+ * (s)
Bagarmossen 6 *
Svara Diedret 6- **

Seglora:
(2 days climbing)

Punsch 6-
Kronartskolkans Flykt 7-
Delikatessan 7-
Kastrationsangest 7-
Ankedammen 7
Vino Tinto 6
Gasa Marsch 6
Basalt 6
Gettingen 6-
Arponas Planet 7-
Blackfisken 6+
Mluda Matilda 7
Matildas Groggveranda 7
Bjorn Sover 7-
Svartenbrandt 7-
Arkiv X 6+
Lenas Led 6-

Kullaberg:
??? 5- **

Sweden the country.

• Everyone drives a Volvo. Usually an estate. This is great.


• Unlike the UK, most people do not drive like complete fucking morons. This is good.


• There seems to be no national radio station devoted to minimal techno 24 hours a day. This is very bad.


• All Swedish people speak good English and are usually very helpful. This is a revelation that British people could learn from.


• Unfortunately there are no English signs anywhere at all, for anything. Although "toalett" and "stopp" are mercifully comprehensible.


• All Swedish children are very blonde and seem very happy.


• Most Swedish women are very blonde and wear very short shorts.


• Everything is extremely expensive. The only exceptions being pre-grated cheese and low-alcohol beer.


• Supermarket meatballs are fairly average and I can't eat a whole packet of them.


• Restaurant meatballs can be very awesome.


• South-West Sweden consists entirely of fields, pine forests, lakes/inlets, and small lumps of granite.


• In Bohuslan, those small lumps of granite can be very awesome.

Sweden calling...

I am going to Sweden for 12 days! Bohuslan! Climbing! And the rest of my experience will hopefully be summed up in the two videos above! Won't have my laptop so no updates but no doubt there will be some extended waffling when I return...

Sunstroke at Stranraer.

Decisions decisions this weekend. The weather forecast was good but the midge forecast was less good especially in the hills, with the wind sometimes struggling to break the 5 mph bare minimum. Sea-cliffs or similar were proposed, and for the purposes of convenient travelling were narrowed down to: Ardnamurchan, Aberdeen area, or Stranraer Peninsula. Much triangulation of surrounding Met Office locations and averaging out potential wind speeds ruled out Ardnamurchan, enthusiasm for a dry-in-the-west forecast ruled out Aberdeen, so Stranraer it was, for the triple whammy of Crammag, Llaggantalluch, and Portobello (the crag, not the Edinburgh district not the London district nor indeed the mushroom, although there was talk of taking some to the crag, sauteeing them on a camp stove and getting the essential but still apparently unclaimed "Eating Portobellos at Portobello" tick).

So yes. The weather was glorious. I got sunburnt knees from my cutting edge shorts + compression stockings combo. And a sunburnt head. And sunburnt shoulders from my "hide the gut show the guns" wifebeater. We did some great climbs each day. Slabs and roof cracks and thin walls and all sorts. The micro-granite is a unusual delight, the greywacke a familiar delight. We saw a curious seal each day (probably not the same one) and lots of annoyingly loud seagulls. I did one of my finest crag turds ever, coiling it out in a splendid figure of 8. We stayed at a huge caravan park at Sandhead that despite being very distant from the wilderness experience, did good butties and good coffee. And went to a very nice pub nearby for a fine meal punctuated by a splendid butterscotch profiterole dessert, probably the highlight of the trip.

Hurrah for climbing really!

Classic Caithness Coolness.

Yay! Back to Caithness at last. Somewhere that always inspired me from reading about it in guidebooks and magazines (I wonder if Duncan Disorderly knows I pinched his OTE with the Caithness special a few years ago??), and somewhere that has proved to be worth that inspiration on initial and subsequent visits. My visits now total 3, which I hoped would be enough (not least because of a certain tedium with the neverending Inverness > Wick finale of the 5+ hour drive), but will likely require at least one more, as this trip was 66% rather than 100% successful...

Much Climbing at Mid Clyth
Yay! For Mid Clyth. A brief initial visit merely sampled the compact and heavily starred Stack area, this substantial return visit confirmed the validity of those stars in an orgy of steep wall climbing. Yes, it really is as good as the guidebook (the definitive, not the less reliable selected guide which criminally misses out this fine crag) says, with a veritable plethora of minor classics crowded side by side above the most convenient (abseil descent aside) of flat platforms. More than you can shake a stick at....or even a seal. Verily the seals were out in force, lowing and mooing and staring quizzically at our bizarrely non-aqueous antics. Those antics simply included a lot of great climbing....and that was that.


Showers at Scarlet
Since the weather forecast predicted 3 unbroken dry days, the rain had the decency to wait until midway through the second day. Oh what courtesy. Before this meterological blip, the mighty Sarclet was the natural choice for the day. Sarclet is somewhat more adventurous, although the main adventure involved trying to construct a vaguely comfortable two man survival shelter out of a ropebag, a rucsac, a small rockshelf with a good RP above it, and a few badly tensioned and even worse placed anchors. This sufficed - barely - for early showers, thus allowing us to snatch a couple of warm-up routes. However the last route was led in light drizzle and seconded in substantial rain. After a soggy and swearful retreat, the sun came out at the car. Arse and double arse.

Evening Esoterica
After an emergency - and pleasingly free - weather check at the Wick library, there was enough promise for the 3rd day....and the 2nd evening. The showers had scarcely tickled Wick nor the coast further North, so we tried Auckengill, lured by the dubious promise of easily accessible 3 star 8m routes. Hmmmm. Well apart from obviously not being 3 star routes, it was pretty cool. A charmingly relaxed location above an arguably even more convenient platform. The couple of chosen routes were definitely short but also distinctly steep, providing some good value. Not nearly as steep as a final digestif route at The South Head Of Wick....an alleged E2 5b with a hard 5c/6a crank above just adequate wires, hard to place amongst severely overhanging climbing the whole of it's brief and brutal way. This required enough up and downclimbing to get a Munro tick, yet was still fun enough climbing to make a perky E3/4 despite such dicking around.


Slipperiness at Sarclet
Thanks to the still dry forecast, the day dawned drizzly on the campsite. Back to the ever-useful library and the promise of a dry afternoon to be worth a morning caffeinating (Morag's Cafe being surprisingly good in this regard), perusing the vast array of tractor magazines (10 different ones in total, I was struggling to decided between Vintage Tractor, Old Tractor, and Classic Tractors) and general faffing (like I need any practise). Heading out to finish the job at Sarclet once more, the brightening day and freshning breeze promised the elusive sending conditions. However my befuddlement about onshore and offshore breezes and sea-cliff conditions was at the fore again. After following the mighty Pimpernel and doing a brief warm up, my chosen inspiration, despite looking reassuringly welcoming from a pert wee belay ledge, was greasier than a whore's fuckflaps. Thus escape was made, and there was little more to be done.

A rather good trip but a couple of Sarclet classics still remaine...so close....yet not close enough...