Caving with the CCCC in the Yorkshire Dales

Caving landscape

This weekend saw me heading off to the Yorkshire Dales with the Cambridge Caving and Climbing Club. This was going to a great learning weekend for me, as I would get to use the Single Rope Technique (SRT for short) to hop up and down a few pitches mid cave. I'd learnt the basics at the Kelsey Kerridge climbing wall a couple of weeks prior, but was experiencing a little bit of memory fade from that occasion, so was hoping that I would pick it back up again without too much difficulty.

In caving gear and ready to go!

On the Friday evening we all travelled up in a couple of cars, and we got to the lodge around about 10pm. The hut belonged to the Red Rose Caving Club, but we'd booked some spaces in the visitor's bedroom, so were set for sleeping quarters! The hut was much nicer than I expected. For guests, it had a kitchen, a dining room with a bench, fireplace and projection screen, two bedrooms sleeping 8-10 people each, a drying room and a changing area with plentiful hooks and hot showers. Bliss! Everything we needed was there! I was inexplicably knackered after the four hour car journey, so after a cup of tea, and a brief bit of chin-wagging with friendly club members, I turned in to sleep. Well, when you heard me saying sleeping 8-10 people, I suspect you imagined ten beds like a dormitory. However, these 'beds' were basically a long mat surface style material in two bunks. It took me only a moment, however, to discover that with my sleeping bag in tow, they were pretty comfortable! I was sparko about ten minutes after getting my head down... 

 

The beds

 

I woke up to hear wailing all around me! The fire alarm! Forgetting I was on the rather low bottom bunk I sat bolt upright and whacked my head! Cradling it, I then tried to slide out sideways with a surge and immediately head butted a strategically placed supporting wooden pillar. Sort of...eye first. If the bruise comes out, I think I will tell people it was from a falling rock. It sounds a little bit more daring than 'I eye butted a bunk bed'. A brief investigation of the alarm (during which I was the only one in my bedroom who tried to escape!) proved it was nothing to worry about, and I gave way to the probable double concussion by going back to sleep.

Saturday – Bull pot of the Witches

Saturday morning was a pretty leisurely affair in comparison to some trekking groups! Everyone just sort of woke up naturally between 7.30am and 8.00am; I didn't hear any alarm going off. For this weekend, Stuart was in charge of the cooking. I came to the kitchen to start helping with the prep. A bit of veg chopping and arrangements on trays, and I think brekkie was well on its way! I went to have a quick morning shower. The breakfast was much appreciated! I had heard rumours that the past couple of trips it had been quite minimalist, but luckily that trend didn't continue this time. If you're going to spend the whole day wet and muddy, you should do it with your belly full of eggs! Okay, that sounds a little odd now that I've said it!...

 

Beautiful countryside around here!

There was a post breakfast period of kitting up and getting everything all sorted and organised. For the caves we had to wear a sort of fleecy under suit (called a furry), a more waterproof over suit, a whistle for safety, and then all the SRT harness and kit on top. By the time I was fully kitted, I felt like I could barely move! I certainly couldn't bend my knees very well! But what I found was that as the day went on, after about an hour, I was moving around quite easily and used to the gear.

Finally, into the cave! We went in a smaller broken off group of two beginners (me and a girl called Priti) and three pros (Geoff, Gordon and Stuart). Today's cave was called Bull pot of the Witches, and the entrance was literally just behind the caving hut. Over the fence, the path wound down and round in a spiral. The path was gravelly and a little slippery. We could see an area on the left where a small waterfall cascaded down into the cave. Bearing in mind the time I almost fell off of the top of a waterfall a few months ago due to my own clumsiness, I was extra cautious here. I was amazed by how cool it was! We all have a long and a short cowstail attached to our harnesses, to attach to safety ropes for when the footing is precarious or we need to safely attach our SRT gear.

By the waterfall near the entrance

 

Stuart had gone ahead first and set up the first rope for us all to use. I stepped through into the cave, and almost immediately we encountered a pitch. A pitch is a drop within a cave which often requires a ladder or SRT usage. This one wasn't a straight drop, however. It was sort of a wiggly one that required a little bit of squirming past outcrops of rock. I attached my cowstails and my stop, and then carefully checked my system before committing myself to it. Unfortunately, the line did not extend all the way to the bottom of the pitch. At the very last wiggle, we had to do a little bit of free climbing down. I had Gordon spotting me as I clambered down in a very uncoordinated manner! There was a little bit of flat walking for a few minutes during which I was marvelling at how amazing it was to be able to come down here and explore! Even though I am obviously not discovering anything new, for myself personally it was a discovery. One part of which is, its quite fun sliding down ropes!

There was a bigger pitch coming up. All the ledge directly in front of it was basically angled to cause anybody to slide straight off it and down the pitch. The rope line as well had been partially deviated away from the edge to avoid the rope rubbing, and you had to remove and replace the rope deviation in mid-air to help those behind you. When it got to my turn, I was so short that I had to take a step down onto a mini outcrop of rock to give me enough reach to get the line. You'd better believe I was already on the safety line! I finally managed to grab it and get my stop on. The line went along diagonally to start with because of the deviation. It took me a little while to work out how to remove and replace the deviation carabiner, but after a little struggle I managed it! I slid down the rest of the rope with no problems.

Stalactites

We came to a little mini chamber with what looked like two exits, but to get further on one you would have needed to climb up and over slippery rock. I watched Stuart having a clamber about on the rope, but not being nearly as tall as he is, I knew I couldn't quite expect the same ease! I chickened out a little bit on that, I'm afraid. Geoff had gone ahead to scope out the path ahead and set up rigging for the next pitches. There was a little period of waiting here as they did this, so I took the opportunity to scarf some food and have a swig of tea. Gordon had very kindly taken my tea Thermos in his 'caving handbag', so it was shared with those that wanted it. We had to clamber under a little arch and across and down a ledge to a lower level still. From here it was a little bit more of a crouch/crawl in a gentle trickle of water. We caught up to the riggers, and had to wait until that was completed so we sat again. I noticed I was getting a little bit cold from the waiting, despite the tea. So when the classic caving experiment 'Let's all turn off our lights and see how dark it is' was proposed I have to admit to not being too keen on that!

Finally the last pitches were rigged and we made our way down. The last one was a little awkward and squeezy to get down onto. After this was a short spiral down to the bottom. This wouldn't be the end of the cave, but to go any further would be in freezing cold rising water, so we decided to turn back around. I had the always humbling human experience all having to remove literally all of my clothes and SRT gear in order to answer a call of nature! The others, understandably wanting to keep their sanity intact, went out of sight for this experience . It took me an absolute age to get it all back on again!

We had a brief detour here where we climbed up and traversed along a little corridor. At the end we found a full stream at the bottom of the bank! Pretty epic!

Attached to the rope and about to make my way up!

But what I didn't realise was that the fun was just beginning! After all the down going into the cave, we now had to come out all the way up! It took me a few minutes to work out the gear and how to jumar again, then I started with gusto up the first pitch! This technique is where you place a hand jammer and a chest jammer on the rope and essentially keep transferring your weight to and fro on and off them to allow them to slide up the rope. There is a loop you stand in to allow you to do this. After a little while the effort can be quite tiring! But definitely doable, and basically just as fun as it sounds! Swinging up a rope in mid air inside a cave...well my day just reached its perfection limit – new environment, new skills and physical activity. Gordon had gone on in front of me, and was there to help with me the awkward wiggling needed to get back on the upper ledge. We waited below the larger deviated pitch for the others, and I knew the offer of a cheese and onion pasty would be gratefully received by the eternally hungry Gordon! I wasn't wrong! I was surprised by how well the pasty lasted in the wet cave – it was barely squashed! There you go, Ginsters, there must be some marketable information in there somewhere!

We waited for everyone to get up the pitch to where we were, then Geoff asked who was first up the next pitch – I knew it would be me! I found moving the deviation much easier this (one on a lower pitch had given me another bit of practice), and got up with a bit of fluster but no incident. It wasn't too much drama making our way up the rest of the sections, and before long we were emerging back into the fresh air! I did feel a bit bad for the pros in the group, who had to hang back and de rig it all as we went. But it means I got to sit for a while by the waterfall, and just appreciate the air and the sunlight.

Caving hut life (Gordon and Stuart)

We all made our way back up to the hut together, and there ensued kit cleaning and attempts at drying. After this I had a blissful shower where all the mud melted off. Then I stood in my clean clothes under a blanket, with a cup of tea, staring out across the beautiful landscape around us. Then Stuart was again on dinner duty, and there was very nice veggie chilli provided! A whole group of people sat in the hut living room, talked about all the places they had been and things they had seen. The fire was going for a wee while, and I sat and played cards. A very nice little crowd! But aware of tomorrow's adventure to come, I peeled off early to bed.

 

Caving suits drying for the next day

Sunday – Notts 2

Today has gone on my list of hairy adventures along with the aforementioned waterfall incident, almost sliding all the way down a hard packed snow slope and the time I almost caused myself lung damage when I panicked whilst scuba diving (see previous blogs if you want to see the actual amount of times I have almost accidentally killed myself!). Don't worry, I'll explain.

The ladders and scaffolding down into Nott 2

So, the entrance to Notts 2 is a small square manhole cover about fifteen minutes from the hut. It's only a step or two away from the road. People in front of me are lowering themselves down. I look down and see that a solid looking metal platform is there. Brilliant! No prob. I lower myself down and crouch on the platform. I look out where the others have gone. Then I see the reality. This shaft, which felt about 100 feet long for each section, is fitted out with steel ladders lashed and bolted to the shaft side, and criss-crossing bars. They are so interlaced that there would be no way to send someone through it on a rope without it constantly catching. One section of this descent required you to lean back against the wall and place your feet only in breeze blocks on the opposite side. There is a short sort of false bottom where you crawl for a few metres, and then another similar shaft to make your way down. This was terrifying, especially when I could see water on some of the scaffold bars, but also exhilarating and really fun! A huge climbing frame with the ultimate consequence. I was pleased to be at the bottom, however. What is amazing is that this is obviously an artificially created shaft to allow access to the caves proper, and they managed to dig this shaft, lashing up this protection as they went!

Cave formations

 

Then there was a squeezy bit where we slid down, went up and over a bulge of rock and back down another ladder. Another hairy bit here! With no rope, we needed to lean out over the edge of this rock formation and get our feet on the strategically placed scaffold bar, then double back to shuffle to the point where we can climb down the rock. Even with shouts of assistance from the more experienced cavers, it definitely took a little bit of logistical thinking to work out how to do it safely!

But now all of this downwards had been navigated, we got to see the real body of the cave, and it was pretty spectacular. We collected the group together in a little chamber to ensure everyone was still here and safe. There was inexplicably a little bucket suspended on a rope in the corner! I wondered if it had been used to get water from a source whilst digging. We carried on down a little gravel hill. The experienced members made a point of telling us that we should always look backwards as well as forwards when coming to any junction in a cave, as it may not otherwise look familiar when we are trying to navigate back to the surface. I made a point of doing it. We started down in the streamway, which ran all the way through all the rest of the cave. To start off with, it only seemed like a little trickle. But as we went along, the streamway became more turbulent. Underfoot, the rocks were slippery and unstable, meaning extra care had to be taken. Wedged rocks were suspended above in some areas, and there were some mini trickles of water to duck under. Some areas required scrambling or climbing up small drops where the water was rushing through. I love this style of movement, intuitive and natural, taking nature in your stride. The walls were close as we moved through this section. Some places had ropes or small rope ladders in situ along the wall, but I had no idea how long these things had been down here. Gordon mentioned that these sorts of features are good for navigating within the cave, using them essentially as 'tick off points' that had to be reached before an important turn would come up.

 

Cave formations

After travelling along for a little while, we came to a t junction and went off to the right. That is when the cave's features really came into their own. After another short bit of narrow streamway, the path widened out. We began to see beautiful stalactites, 'straws', 'carrots', 'curtains' and more. Some of the features looked like a dragon had been flying upwards and got stuck in the room of the cave halfway with only his tail and wing tip visible. Some were multiples colours like the black and milky white formation. One looked like an altar with white cloth draped over it. It was so cool to see all of this stuff underground! The path around them was still pretty wet. At one point we had to go I'd say hip height into the water. It was cold enough to make me gasp! Some parts of the path also had conservation tape to avoid people trampling over delicate areas or damaging features. Despite these efforts we did see that one of the formations looked like it had been deliberately splattered with mud, and another had part of the bottom snapped off. That is pretty sad.



Looking up at some of the cool formations in Notts 2

I'm not sure how long it took to get right along this streamway with all the admiring and photography, but eventually it came to an apparent end (although I could see a crawlspace that I suppose might have led on?), and we turned back. We made our way back to the junction and had a little explore the other way too. The water in this pathway seemed much more turbulent than the first way we took. A couple of the hops down were very wet and took a little bit of balancing and wedging between walls so as not to get too wet. I was expecting it to run just as long as the first passageway, but it was only a very short time before we had to turn back. I was a bit disappointed, but apparently beyond where we stopped was only one very steep waterfall and then the actual end of the passageway.

I was pretty proud of myself on the way back, as due to looking back on the way in, I had been able to remember the turn-offs on the way back. This bodes well for not killing myself in a cave! It didn't seem long before we were again approaching the squeezes that led up to the entrance shaft. Probably my idea of what constitutes a 'squeeze' is very different from most experienced cavers! By 'squeeze' I mean we had to duck our heads a bit. Yes, I know, I know. When I finally experience a real squeeze I will look back at that with fond memories!

 

 

Little straws

Anyway, back at the bottom of the ladder and scaffolding shafts. And I have to say, that going up was infinitely less scary than going down. At least I knew my feet were firmly planted when I was climbing up! It seemed to flow by without too much difficulty. It might have felt slightly slower to poor Geoff who was stuck behind me, however! Still, it wasn't too long before I poked my head out into the fresh air, and the miraculous sight of the sun and green earth. A few cameras went off as I came out of the shaft! After sitting about deliberating for about fifteen minutes, we finally got up and walked the short distance back to the car. Even with the short walk, my legs were aching like crazy as I walked and chatted with Gordon. I think all the nerves and tense climbing had hit me!

 

Priti emerges from the entrance shaft

Once back at the hut, there was a rush to pack up kit and supplies there. I had a quick shower and a cup of tea, and before long it was back in the car for the long journey back!

This was a brilliant trip for me, and something that I think has definitely cemented a love for exploring caves in me. I hope that I can go on to do harder caves, more SRT and (of course) see more pretty cave stuff! Watch this space for more adventures.




Emerging from Notts 2

Flatt7

Winter Walking with Mountain Magic

 



Me using the ice pick

Last week, I escaped the claustrophobic confines of the buildings, pavements and oddly mild climate of our fair city of London. I swapped it for the amazing hills of Glen Coe! I was booked up with Mountain Magic for an enlightening week of clear horizons, snow and fairly constant rain. As my plans in the near future include traverses up Mont Blanc and various volcanoes in Kamchatka, I thought it was probably not such a bad idea to become familiar with the business end of ice picks and crampons.

I had excitedly bought myself a pair of B2 boots to pair with crampons from Ellis Brigham (you can rent, but over about three trips it is worth buying your own pair), which had sat in the corner of my room glaring expectantly at me, and wondering what they were doing in North London. Probably. I mean, I can't speak 'boot', but I reckon that was their thought for the week they sat dormant. But not for long!

After an epic journey from home right up to Fort William, changing about four times, I arrived at 10pm. The welcome sight of Paul Boggis (director of Mountain Magic) was there to greet me and another walker, and lift us back to the cottage in Glen Coe that everyone on our course was staying in. I was absolutely cream crackered by the time we got there, but no rest. I sat on the floor and fiddled with the adjustments on a set of crampons lent to me, trying to fit them to my boot. A few interjections from my course mates helped me along the way, and I finally got it sorted enough that I could hit the hay!
 

Paul Boggis

The course was pretty full, which I feel is always good in terms of having a more social time (which doesn't tend to be my forte, but which makes for a nice cheerful atmosphere). There were two other girls, Georgie and Krysia. We were sharing a room together in close confines. There were also three guys. Two, JP and Nick, are good friends and walking aficionados who came together. The other guy, Chris, had come along to help clear his stress with a few days of walking.

To bed! And the adventure begins tomorrow. With that thought, I drifted off...

Day 1 - Stob Dubh

We woke early in time for a 7.30am breakfast, and I was pretty excited! The mealtime theme for the week was mildly paleo, a ridiculous concept where you essentially eat only foods that would have been available in caveman/hunter-gatherer times. The effect of this is a weirdly skewed version of the Atkinsons where you never quite have enough energy. Luckily, the paleo vibe in this week was only a light theme, punctuated with pasta, rice and toast. Otherwise I might have found myself secretly gnawing on the sofas to try and eke out some carbohydrates at an hour no one else would find me out. Actually, I was pretty chuffed with the food, as we were all asked re our preferences prior to the course. When I mentioned cereal, an instant offer to get some in was made, and veggie dishes were cooked separately (awkwardly, I was the only non meat eater). Also, the world's best (homemade!) flapjack was taken as an accessible snack during the snowy daytime.

After taking an age to sort out our kit (first day, and all that), we got in the van and went out on the hill! We took an epic trip to the 958m peak of Stob Dubh on this day. I whacked out my trekking poles (thanks Mum!) for the first section of the hill, which was basically steep and slippery steps, up and up and up! There was some initial chat and banter, which fell to the wayside as heartrates increased and everyone concentrated on the task at hand. Georgie led the way, and we marched up the hill. Snow was on the hill from very low down, patches here and there, then extending to whole areas. We stopped for a quick rest and water break partway up the hill, which was the point that I noticed that one member of the group wasn't quite right. Chris, shellshocked by the marching pace we had fallen into, had turned an alarming shade of grey. He looked wiped! We stopped for a wee while so that everyone felt okay to carry on, then up we went!

One moment it was snow patches, and then, snow! We saw another group out practicing ice pick arrests in a section here. The air turned a little colder as we went on until a little saddle. I tried breaking ground in the snow here for a while, and it is bloody exhausting! The snow was quite soft, so I sank in with each step. I got to the saddle, and crouched like a little chipmunk with my bit of flapjack. I had to take off my glove for this, but it was worth it! I madly nibbled as much as I could until all of my group had gone past and up the next hill a little. I didn't realise they were just trying to find a place out of the wind so that they could do just the same!

Now comes the really cool bit of the day - we were taught some snow skills! We all put our rucksacks in a pile, and went up a little way to learn the basics. One point is that you should move along and up the slope in a zigzag pattern, and always have the ice pick adze (non pointy bit) forwards and in the uphill hand. I struggled with holding my pick correctly, and was pulled up on it more than once! Then we were showing the correct posture to hold the pick in in order to arrest ourselves if we start sliding to our death on a snowy slope. Good to know! We slide down on our back sans pick to create a nice slidely slope, then started practicing. We were taught techniques to stop ourselves no matter what our orientation when we fall, and if we do or don't have our pick to hand. It is pretty difficult to turn yourself round from a head first slide without rolling! I need to practice this shit more. We spent about an hour rolling around in the snow doing all these stops.

Snow sliding

I started feeling pretty cold at this point, as there was a fierce blizzard coming off of the mountain top and we weren't doing sustained walking effort. However, despite having almost no outdoors skills to base this off of, I have a massive ego. I didn't want to mention that I was the wimp that was feeling the cold! To make it worse, I sat for ages whilst I tried to work out my crampons. I have practiced them the night before, but they are much trickier on a cold, snowy mountainside. Then people ate and drank, and stood talking navigation. Finally, I was pretty sure I was going to cause an avalanche by the force of my shivering, and it became apparent to the others. Annoying! My weakling complex surfaced, and I grumbled "I'm fine" when asked how I was.

Thank God! We are moving again, up the slope, in the zigzag fashion as before. Despite a mini problem with my gaiters, mostly all was well. I warmed up as we climbed. Paul warned us as we got higher of the risk of cornices, large banks of snow sticking out over the edge of drops. It is possible that they can be large enough for you to be well on a cornice before seeing the edge in poorer visibility. So the advice was to stick to areas where you can definitely see rock showing, to ensure you are on mountain top and not what is essentially floating snow! The winds picked up, and a light blizzard flurried around our faces. Most of us threw on our shades/goggles to protect our eyes. Mine are a bloody nightmare! Every time I breathe (which I am sure I read somewhere is a necessity or something like that), the whole bloody things fog up! I am stumbling after the group, trying to see out of the top left patch of sunglass that is clear. Later on, I learned not to breath. That helped a little. ;)

So, with crampons on your feet, the thing you tend to really hate is bloody rock. Sticking up, catching, tipping you off balance. Snow please! On snow, they really don't even feel like they're on at all.

Then, a bit of scrambling, and we are on top of the Stob Dubh summit! The weather clears a little bit, and there are even some sunrays. We take a summit picture, and everyone chows down eagerly. First mountain top of the course! That is 'summit' to brag about! Ahem, sorry about that last sentence. Won't happen again (it probably will)



The Clachaig Inn

The way down was fairly uneventful. We came down the same way, and the weather felt really mild on the lower slopes in comparison to the summit. The only saga was the first outdoors wee of the week (of many!). Running for 90+ minutes in wild trails, I thought I had a good grasp of seamless outdoor weeing. In fact, I even did it on a caving trip last year. But weeing on the side of a snow slope is a whole new challenge! I hiked up a few metres to a covering rock, then staring paranoidly at my group to check no one was watching, the business was done. Slippery wee times.

Nick and JP went ahead as they are faster trekkers, and wanted to get down to Fort William to change their boots. We came down at a slower rate, and at the bottom the pub was suggested. This became a mini tradition of ajourning to the Clachaig Inn each evening post walk that I became rather fond of! In the evening after the dinner, we sat and watched a film called 'The Pinnacle', about climbers that have recreated a series of legendary Scottish climbs.

Day 2 - The Lost Valley

I was excited when we discussed this the night before, as I thought we might throw in a trip to the famous Ossian's Cave. Alas, we didn't. But we did head to a place called 'The Lost Valley', which is apparently "Where Faeries and Pixies live if they exist in this world" (courtesy of Mr Paul Boggis). The main theme of this today was step kicking in snow, an exhausting activity that requires turns to be taken throughout the group.

Trekking up towards the snow

 

The first section was a nice little trot down in the valley, and up a few slippery steps. Then we went up a little, following the stream along as closely as possible. From checking the map we knew that we would need to be crossing the stream and ending up on the left hand side of it at some point. This point came close to the point of the first little patches of snow, at a place where the stream was about knee height. Now, I have no qualms about being wet, but of course the concern on a long day is making sure that you don't lose too much heat. So I wobbled precariously from rock to rock across the stream, my trekking poles held aloft in one hand, trying to get my footing. Thankfully JP took my poles for me and allowed me to hop across in a more or less dry fashion. As we went along the bank down to the river fell away sharply, leaving a scary drop. Then was the moment that I knew was coming, the arrival of enough snow so that the trekking poles would be packed away, and the ice pick would come out! We had to make our way through the Lost Valley, slowly along and up, through this heavy sloped snow bank. Footing was incredibly important here, which I imagine is why we were taught the ice pick self arrest the day before. We didn't put crampons on for the way up, instead getting our introduction to kicking steps in the snow to make our way. Paul did them all to start with, and we had to concentrate on holding our picks correctly and following the steps. But it wasn't that easy for long! We started to rotate and take turns kicking the steps. Because of the steep slope, we had to make sure the steps were angled inwards to make foot placement in them easier, and so that we were less likely to slip out of the steps. I was very conscious on my turn that my feet were quite a bit smaller than the guys', so I had to boot the snow four or five times on each step in order to make it big enough. It was bloody exhausting! How Paul managed to do it continuously and with no apparent sign of fatigue I will never know! I have to confess that on this day, I actually forgot my map, so was relying on Paul to tell me where to kick up to!

Eventually we got close to the top of the hill. The weather was coming in and blizzarding a little as we sat here and rested. We had to create ourselves a sort of bum shaped hole to rest in. We had a bite to eat and some hot drink. Before we went back down, we popped on our crampons to make the downhill slope easier. I say 'popped on'. What actually ensured was about twenty minutes of tugging and tying and grunting (mostly from my quarter). Cold hands and cold feet were an inevitable conclusion of this session, after which I proudly announced my success! One glance from Paul: "Jen." He said, with no small amount of disbelief "You've got them on the wrong way round". Yup, I had put left on right and vice versa. Luckily Paul took pity on me and helped me to swap them around!



Following snow steps up

Coming back down was less exhausting, but infinitely more frustrating. No matter how I walked, on tracked or fresh snow, I seemed to be constantly slipping and falling on my ass. I really don't have a good temper at the best of times, but after pitching forwards or sideways about twenty times I was little more than an uncoordinated bundle of rage. Finally someone told me to dig my heels in as I went down...woohoo! This is it! I've got it, i'm moving...ohhh, i'm slipping! And down I went, on my back to start then I flipped on my front to try and arrest myself. But before I knew it, the pick was jerked from my hand and left sitting pretty in the snow twenty metres up from me. In panic, I cupped my hands and dug them both at the same time into the snow. It was a good thing that this snow was relatively soft, as this actually worked. Red faced, I climbed up freehand to my semi abandoned pick and retrieved it. We continued our downwards trajectory, going along a bit and back across some of the more melty, streamy sections. It was tiring, but after a couple of hours we had made it back down to less snowy realms of the valley. Another expected but unwelcome toilet trip behind a handy rock led to a little incoordination, and I managed to give the back of my thermal trousers a little unexpected christening. Well, what can you do? I did hear a story of someone who accidentally pooed in the back of their caving suit and put it back on without realising, so I think i'm still winning in the grand scheme of things?

We got back to the bottom, and were soon on our way to the Clachaig Inn! On the way we say someone walking back there, so we told him to hop in and gave him a lift. He was staying at the inn, and he told us about a talk that was happening there that evening about Winter skills. It sounded great! As far as I could tell the plan was to grab a quick drink, head for dinner, and then get back to the pub in time for the talk beginning at 8pm. I availed myself of a bowl of the soup of the day (which I think was broccoli and brie, or something of that nature), and chowed down with gusto. Oh, it was so good, even sat in my soaked waterproofs.

We headed back for dinner. I went first in the van with Paul, as he was trying to go ahead and get it ready. On the way back I saw a deer bounding across the road. "Oh!" I exclaimed in suprise as it bounced out of sight. Then the shock of our lives; another came out directly in front of the van, so close there was hardly any time at all to react. When I took my hands from my face, the van had come to a stop and the deer was gone, but unfortunately, we probably clipped him a little. Sad times. I hope it was a bump and not anything serious!

By the time 8pm rolled around, we were all still at the dinner table, and so alas, we missed the talk. Everyone did go off to the pub a little later to have a few rounds, but it is definitely not my scene! So I stayed in and went to bed early. Bring on the next day!

Day 3 - rainy navigation day

So I can't actually remember the name of the hills that we went to on this day. But today was basically the slightly shorter, sort of rest day. Unfortunately Chris hadn't been able to come out as he had a bad stomach. So today we practiced navigation! I was pleased to get my teeth back into this subject, as I did a few days mid December, and was worried the knowledge was fading back into the dark recesses of my brain where it would live. The other factor was that my immunity had taken a little battering by the harsh weather on the previous two days, and I could feel a little cold or flu dredging itself up. I squashed it down, sacked up, and marched on.

Dinner is served

We did a check on how many paces each of us took to one hundred metres. This does increase based on the terrain, with factors such as weather, ease of walking, height gain, etc. all having an impact. I seemed to remember that my normal amount of paces for the kind of easy terrain at the start of this walk was sixty five. But it must have gone up a little! It is about seventy to seventy-five now. As we went along counting paces, we were checking for a specific turn on the trail that would be indicated by a flatter section afterwards. The ground was rocky and gravelly, with minimal snow patches. This may have been because there was a constant stream of water running both down and alongside the path. As the day went on the temperature rose and the water was gushing down at a terrific rate.

When we finally made it to what we thought was our turning point on the map, we had gone further than we thought and so it was quite close. So much for knowing our position accurately! We stopped off for a bite at a cairn, and then started off with some specific micronavigation to a tarn. The first section of this seemed to walk straight through the middle of an icy pond! But we were taught 'boxing off' an obstacle, such as a body of water or cornice. This basically means you go around it a bit, and then back to the same point on the other side of it. Demystified! In case you asked. We were also asked to work out the degree on the compass we should be heading, and the distance we would walk to get there. We did this a few times over, and it is really difficult to keep on a true bearing! I went off on a random tangent more than once. I realised I was extremely off course when I saw Paul trudging off at about right angles of where I was! I really want to practice this a little more on my own. JP was telling me about The Wainwrights in the Lake district, so I have a thought I might go up there armed with an OS map!

Navigating the hills

Back to the present. Once we had done a few of these little navigation tasks, it was time for the promised introduction to the emergency shelter! It is basically a large canvas shelter that is supposed to be able to hold 4-6 people in an emergency situation. An example is if someone is injured, or a white out occurs and it is too risky to move about. We took it out of its bag, all took an edge and 'up and over'! it went above our heads and we all sat down at once. I can truly say that this is one of the more uncomfortable experiences of my life. With six people inside, all sitting on an edge and trying to eat, there wasn't even any space to lift my head properly. My knees were crushed up to my chest, and the memory of easy breathing left for a little while! I still think I probably had a better deal than some of the taller members of the group, or those that were sitting halfway down a backwards slope! After a brief period in here, away from the driving rain, we all stood back up en masse. The relief! It was about time then to head back down, as today was the easier day. I seemed to have huge problems keeping up on the way back down! To be fair, I am always slower coming back than going up. But I sort of stumbled along behind, and the rain had picked up its pace. At one point Nick hung back and checked that I was alright with a handy high five. I was a little confused why I was being high fived! I only realised later that I looked a little out of my depth because I kept losing my balance.

One wee stop and a short drive later, we were back at the Clachaig. I finally partook in the amazing looking hot chocolate with cream and chocolate sauce on top! We all sat close around the fire (to the slightly bemused glances of the other pubgoers), chatted and warmed ourselves up. When we got back to the cottage Chris was around, but not feeling too much better. He hadn't got much sleep, and still had a dodgy stomach. But he did sit in for the talk later, which was consolidating all the navigation skills that we had practiced out on the hills. A shorter day was nice, but I was looking forward to practicing more snow skills the next day as was promised!

Day 4 - Stob coire nan lochan

This day was literally the best day out of all of them! We finally got over one thousand metres, and it was great fun getting there! I knew that this was the day we were planning to practice some more snow skills (ice pick arrest being my big worry, as I have a habit of flinging it out away from me rather than keep it tight into my body). We climbed up via a steep route that included crossing a few precarious waterfall tops. The views were pretty incredible, and the mountain stretched upwards into a point in the upper distance. Apparently, there are some crazy cats who actually skied down from that upper point all the way to the bottom! Sounds like an amazing ride!

It wasn't long before the ice picks came out, the snow banks rolling down towards precarious waterfalls and sudden drops. The snow was not as firm as that in the Lost Valley, and slid around beneath our feet. Some areas required a little hands and feet scrambling. But we finally got up to some big banks of snow that we could practice on. A quick hop across an icy river, and we got started!



River crossing

I have to say, there is nothing quite as awesome as sliding down a snowbank that you know you won't die at the bottom of. Wheeee! This time we practiced the skills rucksack on so that it would be a little bit more realistic. I put my camera in my bag, and followed the footsteps up to the top of the slope. Weirdly, as I sat at the top of the slope, a quiver of fear danced through me. But I am never one to let my fear stop me from doing anything! I slid down with one quick push, and managed to stop myself with one quick drive into the snow with the pick. I pushed off again, and each time I felt I was improving my technique. Here's hoping I manage to come through when I actually slip and fall! I don't think I would be quite as lucky if it happened accidentally on Mont Blanc! We also all practised what we would do if we fell down head first, which involves first of all holding the pick aloft, then flinging it out to one side to use as a pivot point to turn on. Then we would arrest ourselves as normal if the pivot hadn't stopped us. Paul was taking quite a few pics of us all flinging ourselves down the slope, so i'm hoping to get hold of a cool looking one of me pivoting! Fingers crossed!

After the snow skills session we were asked what was more important - snow shelter and avalanche stuff, or summiting the mountain! I'm afraid, peak bagger that I am (although novice), I didn't hesitate to join in the chimes of "Summit!". This is where the really cool stuff came in, and it got just the right amount of hairy for me. We strapped on our crampons and starting make our way up. Some areas of the ground were packed snow, and other areas punctuated by rocks that tipped our crampons off balance a little. But after a walk, we started to get into some proper scrambling, and some properly fierce weather conditions. Climbing up crevices, the sides of jutting rock and from stone to stone all with the wind whipping round at up to fifty miles per hour. Paul had brought some rope just in case anyone felt worried enough to feel like they needed it (we didn't in the end), and after every little scramble we all congregated in a little safe rocky spot where he would check everyone felt okay. He told us later that he really felt like he earned his money on this scramble, as there is a lot of supervising and guiding to do! There were some other people making their way up to the summit via this route, but like us, they stopped frequently and rested. I loved the scrambling so, so much I want to do some more (albeit in slightly more Summery conditions!), and maybe some higher grades with ropes! The scariest section was what looked like a bridge entirely made of snow, which I was hesitant to cross. I know some of the others weren't fans of the heights and felt as I did about that section. Because of the frequent stops, my hands were starting to feel the temperature! We worked out later that with wind chill, it felt like minus fifteen degrees at the summit! I am very suprised at that, as although it was cold I had an idea that that temperature would be almost unbearable. But with enough movement it is pretty alright. With my hands feeling it a little, I kept scrunching them up into fists inside my gloves, and waggling them to keep them feeling alive. I am currently reading a book about Ranulph Fiennes Artic adventures, in which he said one person on his team let seven of his fingers become frostbitten from apathy in that environment. I know it's not quite the Artic Circle, but that story stuck in my mind! What I didn't realise was that all the scrunching had exposed my wrist to the elements, and it was turning a rather weather beaten shade of red. Paul did notice however, and on the precarious side of a rock, in a blizzard, he swapped his gloves with mine (he had spares) and tucked my wrists in to protect them from the elements. Quite good to have a guide that notices and anticipates problems!

Snack break

Now that the weather was really up, we didn't spend too much more time sitting. The scrambling section was done, and now it was a short snowy walk up to the summit! I was so relieved to see we were finally at the top, and I could claim that peak bagged! We all crouched in a close circle and chomped some well earned flapjack and hot tea. I remember some discussions about penguins (although can't remember if it was that we were or weren't like penguins, or that we should be!). It was a bit too fierce to get any summit pictures. We went down on the other side of the mountain, and according to estimates it would take two to three hours to come down. This side was a bit more strolling (and stumbling on my part!) down snow and rock slopes, and not scrambling. We saw the coolest thing on the way down. We came across a deep loop carved into the snow. It turns out that this way a way that people abseil down, with rope wedged into this loop of snow. It looks amazing! I really want to do that. I don't know how solid/reliable it is, but the snow is pretty firmly packed! I didn't get a chance to take a picture of it though.

By the time we got back down to the area that was near our snow skills spot, it seemed that everyone was coming back down, and we met up with about twenty people on the path! I was bum sliding down to avoid any forward trips (and also because, let's face it, it was pretty fun!). At the bottom spot here we took our crampons back off (relief!) and then it was a skip back down to the bottom. Except it wasn't quite a skip, it was a bit of a slippery slog. When we got back to the area of crossing near the waterfall, I accidentally took the wrong route out across some rocks, and only realised when Paul called me back. Oh shit! I turned back to follow the correct path, and my foot skidded on the rock. Before I knew it, I was sliding away down the rock! I tried to grab with my hands, but couldn't get purchase on anything. I literally had no control as I went, and couldn't believe my luck when a small bank of snow stopped my sliding out any further and into the river. Looking back up at Paul, his face looked as white as a sheet. He said that it was the first near miss he had had this Winter season! Profuse apologies ensued, and secretly I was kicking myself at my clumsiness. On the way down, I could feel my boots rubbing on the side of my heel, with each step downwards. That feeling was there for about an hour, and by the time we were about the bottom, I was fairly sure that my entire boot was full of blood. Okay, yes I am a drama queen. It was actually a small blister. But I have a feeling from this trip that I need to toughen my feet a lot more to cope with the hardy conditions of Mont Blanc! On that evening we had a cool avalanche talk. It described the different types of avalanches, and how to avoid and manage them. Also a story about a group of hikers that rode from the top of the mountain to the bottom on a detached block of ice! Epic!

Nick, JP, me, Georgie, Krysia and Chris

The next day I had to head back to London, and my rubbish dual twelve hour shifts. But I am sure that I got a little wiser, and a little hardier, this holiday! And it was great fun too!

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