St Victoire - Southern Sunshine

About this time a year ago I was nominated to be the "international expedition officer" for the St Andrews Mountaineering Club, which is a rather poncy sounding title that basically just entails organising an international climbing trip. At first I had many grand ideas for cool locations, but sadly I had to be brought down to earth by various logistical concerns and my ambitions were curbed dramatically. In the end I settled on a week of sport climbing in the South of France, more specifically the not particularly well known destination of St Victoire. This mountain is probably better known to art historians than it is to climbers. Over the years true masters such as Cezanne, Picasso and Kandinsky have made the mountain their subject.

Mont St-Victoire and the viaduct of the Arc river valley - Paul Cezanne

The climbing on this mountain is primarily sport climbing, though frequently a light trad rack is required. Either because the bolts are spaced, or sometimes because they're not there at all! Another thing to note about the climbing here is from my (admittedly small) experience of sport climbing the grades were massive sandbags, this was exemplified perfectly by 5+ instead of being a grade I could climb with a blindfold became a bit of a battle depending on the circumstances. The first few days were a rather humbling experience, I didn't do particularly well partly because I was expecting the routes to be easier than they were and also because I was so out of practise having last climbed outdoors with my bare hands (and not axes and crampons) in September/October time last year. 

A typical St Vic route: slabby with spaced bolts

A lot of the days were spent doing not particularly note-worthy things. Though two routes did stand out far from the rest. I did a 17 pitch 5+, though it was more of a trad route really and equated to something like E1 5b in british grades. The other really stand out day for me was when I traversed along the top of St Victoire and took in the beautiful views over cote d'azur.

St Victoire in all of its splendour

The line of Le Grand Parcour weaves its way up the entire south face of the mountain and has two main sections, pitches 1-3 form the lower bulk of the route and are the only bolted ones, everything above relies on trad gear with the occasional peg to make things simpler. Though the pegs are so sparse if you planned on relying on them you'd be clipping one every 20 metres or so. The upper (and harder) hard section is taken up by pitches 13-17. In between these there are three pitches we deemed a rope to be necessary on (most notably pitch 9) then the rest are either solo-able or simul-climb-able.

The climb as a whole took two attempts to complete. This came down to expecting there to be more bolts above the first three pitches. I was anticipating being able to move faster than we were and once we'd passed the lower bolted section our progress was slower than I would have hoped and upon reaching the base of pitch 13 with only two hours of sunlight left whilst having not done the four hardest pitches (all trad) and the decent (which I didn't know) still to do. I made the call which turned out to be 100% correct to go down in the daylight.

Just before I decided we should go down

The day hadn't been a total waste though. The first three pitches, especially the first and third were absolutely sublime. Pitch one followed a line of nice shiny bolts through jug city. And then pitch 3 was a nice steep pitch with some delicate moves lower down and then some burly climbing up a groove which formed the crux higher up. After these we soloed quickly up the ridge to reach a long though fairly easy pitch up some ledge-y ground. We roped up for this pitch and then walked the next section to get to the base of pitch 9. Pitch 9 was the first challenging trad climbing pitch and on this day it was led by Denning. She made it up the 60 metres very smoothly, the pitch weaves catlike up some hold less slabs into a groove which goes the height of the outcropping to just beneath a large roof where a belay is made.

Me leading pitch 9 two days later

Pitch 10 is a bit of an odd pitch, the leader traverses under the roof then climbs easily upwards past the roof and then they double back on themselves before going up again. Meaning the leader traces a truncated "s" shape up the cliff, some imaginative rope management was required to safely protect the second with minimal rope-drag.

The pitches after this myself and Denning simul-climbed for maximum efficiency. Though as I mentioned earlier we were still not fast enough and we had to descend down some tree-filled gullies to get to the rough track that leads diagonally across the south face of the mountain, better known as the "Trace Noir".

Two days later myself and Denning returned for round 2 on the route. This time we opted to start from the Trace Noir which cuts the route at pitch 9 as we didn't have a full day to climb due to beginning our journey home that night. 

On the second time round I led pitch 9, which was a very enjoyable trad pitch and I reckoned weighed in at about HVS 5a. Once again we simul climbed the following pitches up the thin ridge to the base of the upper difficulties. These difficulties consist of a huge Y shaped chimney. Pitch 14 climbs the chimney before the fork and then pitch 15 (the routes crux) follows the left of the two forks, though if I ever come back I'd love to try the right fork as it looks mind-blowingly good and mega exposed!

Denning led pitch 14 smoothly up the awkward chimneys and was soon looking around for somewhere to set up a belay, unfortunately due to her lacking in stature somewhat she couldn't see the 3 pegs in the rock on the ledge just above her head, once I reached her I pointed this out to her and we had a good laugh about it as she'd (understandably) faffed for quite a while making her first ever fully trad anchor. So that she could be a bit more comfortable belaying me on the next pitch we did a very short pitch (probably about 3 metres long) to get to the pegs and make everything a bit comfier.

Myself getting involved in the awkward chimney.

The next pitch was the crux of the route and I'd decided I'd go for the lead. It was a great pitch, if a little short-lived. The difficulties were the first cluster of moves leaving the belay which at first were a bit perplexing but with a little re-arrangement I soon found myself firmly jammed in the chimney above the challenges. A few more exposed moves above a couple of good cams lead to a ledge and a nice bolted belay station. 

Getting myself jammed into the offwidth chimney for added security

After this a couple of steep pulls on good flakes were all that separated us from the easy pitches to the top. Soon these were dispatched and we were un-roping at the top of the mountain!

Me leading the final pitch - taken by Natascha

Coiling ropes like a ballerina.

As we reached the top, Georgiy came over the ridge. They'd planned to do the whole route in a day though realised they wouldn't have enough time same as us two days previously. Instead of carrying on once they reached the Trace Noir he and Natascha decided to walk up the Trace Noir and visit the Croix de Provence: The 20 metre tall cross perched atop St Victoire. Due to a lack of time to catch the bus back to the campsite, after a very brief break we were back on the move again descending the Trace Noir. To reach the descent we had to escape down through the really cool limestone cave/tunnel called the "tunnel du Garagai" 

The "Tunnel du Garagai"

The two things I was most stoked on about this route were:

1) Being able to climb a summer mountain trad route for the first time in ages,  
    there's just such a unique feeling you get from climbing in the mountains in 
    summer and I was really growing to miss it.

2) Knowing that next year after Joe and a large chunk of the most prolific               climbers at the club leave, there'll still be a solid climbing partner with
    bottomless stoke to go out and get on some amazing trad lines around
    Scotland with me! Thanks Denning!

Infectious Stoke

The second really special day was for me a day spent walking! I can see you all spitting out your coffee, is Caelan really admitting to enjoying a walk? It would seem so! The traverse of the ridge of St Victoire was a really stellar experience and maybe my favourite individual day of the whole trip!

The day began with me leaving the campsite I chose not to take the bus, instead opting to walk the whole way. The sun was blazing, I had a light pack with only some food, water, sun cream and my bible which I planned to read whilst sat eating my lunch under the Croix de Provence admiring the views of the French Riviera. 

Finding the line up to the mountain amongst all of the snaking paths around the refuge Cezanne proved to be quite challenging, and some awkward conversations with french people who didn't speak any English ensued. After a lot of unavoidable confusion I found myself atop the ridge following a solid looking path up to the cross. Before the cross was reached however I found myself in a small notch in the cliffs. Contained within this notch was a small catholic chapel and a cluster of out buildings, one of which had been re-purposed to form a refuge (I think that's what the sign said!). A couple of pine trees grew, and if it hadn't been for the large numbers of people it would have been a beautifully cool and peaceful spot tucked away from the heat of the midday sun.

Looking down at the little enclave.

Not wanting to get caught behind a large bunch of rowdy french walkers, I left just before they did and raced up the path to reach the cross before they arrived. From the foot of the cross you could see to the Alps in the north west to the Mediterranean in the south. Absolutely incredible views! I dug my bible out of my bag and read a few verses from the psalms:

96 Oh sing to the Lord a new song;
    sing to the Lord, all the earth!
2 Sing to the Lord, bless his name;
    tell of his salvation from day to day.
3 Declare his glory among the nations,
    his marvellous works among all the peoples!
4 For great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised;
    he is to be feared above all gods.
5 For all the gods of the peoples are worthless idols,
    but the Lord made the heavens.
6 Splendour and majesty are before him;
    strength and beauty are in his sanctuary.

7 Ascribe to the Lord, O families of the peoples,
    ascribe to the Lord glory and strength!
8 Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name;
    bring an offering, and come into his courts!
9 Worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness;[a]
    tremble before him, all the earth!

10 Say among the nations, “The Lord reigns!
    Yes, the world is established; it shall never be moved;
    he will judge the peoples with equity.”

11 Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice;
    let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
12     let the field exult, and everything in it!
Then shall all the trees of the forest sing for joy
13     before the Lord, for he comes,
    for he comes to judge the earth.
He will judge the world in righteousness,
    and the peoples in his faithfulness.

After about 45 minutes sat beneath the cross I got up and continued the walk along the ridge, taking a multitude of pictures of it. Whilst I may not agree with every nuance of catholic theology I think we can all agree that they know the most dramatic places to erect a cross:

The awe inspiring Croix de Provence - 18.25 metres from top to bottom

You can see the cross from Aix en Provence: 10 miles away!

After this the walk was simply an enjoyable romp in the sunshine along the top of this most beautiful of mountains. If you're ever in the area and aren't up to the climbing on the mountains south face I can't recommend this walk highly enough! The walk ended up taking me much longer than I expected, about 6 hours from camp site to the bus stop at puyloubier at the other end of the mountain ridge. As you get further from the summit of the mountain (which is actually a few hundred metres beyond the Croix de Provence) the ridge gets less and less striking, though is still beautiful and has the added bonus of having less traffic on it.

Looking east.

All in all, I'm very happy with how the organisation of the trip went especially considering this was my only my second time flying (my first time in 4 years) and my first ever abroad climbing trip. At the end of the day (though it wasn't perfect) it could've been a lot worse. The only real downers for me where not being able to make it to the verdon gorge for a myriad of factors (though it later snowed there, so it wasn't much of a loss in the end), The other huge downer was that the morning of our flights back to blighty was the same morning as the bombs in Brussels. I have some thoughts about this (as do we all) but this blog isn't really the place for them.

My next (slightly) international adventure takes me to the sun baked Northern Ireland (haha.) for the Fairhead meet with the legend that is Ben Gibson: Roll on June!

Winter Warmer

having hit honours this past year in my maths degree as part of my degree I'm required to go and visit a big posh house called "The Burn" where we sit and talk about maths all weekend and prepare a talk on mathematics to present to our professors. This action packed weekend is only undertaken by penultimate year students, due to my entry to honours being a year early I wasn't required to go to "The Burn" along with my course-mates. Instead I was effectively handed a 4 day weekend without classes or tutorials! Any self respecting climber in this situation knows exactly what to fill empty days in winter with. The forecast looked promising and Joe was free, so with Erik in tow the three of us began the four hour drive from St Andrews to Torridon to attempt the ultra classic Poacher's Fall

We arrived in the Liathach car park in the dark and quickly hunkered down in preparation for our 4:30am wake up. We grumpily arose and I stuffed  some fruitloaf in my mouth before beginning the plod round the back of Liathach. For some reason I had it in my head that the walk into Liathach was going to be really hard work. On the contrary it was one of the easiest winter walk ins I've ever had, there is almost no uphill and on the day a trail through the snow had already been broken making my life noticeably easier. Soon we were in the relevant corrie and able to see the fat line of Poacher's fall looming in the distance.

Poachers is the central streak of ice.

We quickly trudged up the steeper snow to find a large flat area had been dug into the snow beneath the route the day previously where we opted to gear up. I'd said the day before that I was happy to lead any pitch on the route as I was just keen to lead some ice this season because after the rather poor start I'd just kind of come to expect that ice wasn't going to materialise. As a result I was given the first of three pitches. 

The first moves

I swam up some deep snow to the base of the ice. I swung my axe for the first time and to great joy discovered that the ice was just perfect. All it took was one swing and the placement was bombproof. I swung with my other axe into even more glory ice. Soon, without really realising due to just being distracted by how good the ice was I was way above the deck without any gear. Joe reminded me to place some screws and so I did before carrying on up. My goal was a cave about 60 metres up where there was some in situ abalaklov thread belays.

Just beneath the cave

At about the 30 metre mark the pitch began to steepen and I had so be more methodical about my movements and my gear placements, though the ice was still incredible and I rarely required more than one swing to get a bomber pick placement. Having aimed for the cave I'd actually accidentally climbed passed the in situ belay point, having realised this I had to down climb a short section to get across to the threads. I quickly set up the belay and shortly both Erik and Joe where at the belay with me. Because we were climbing as a three and we each wanted a pitch, a small amount of faff with the ropes ensued before Joe could head on up and tackle the next pitch: the crux of the climb.

Joe leading, just before he disappeared from sight

as is to be expected from Joe on the crux of the route there was a fair number of watch me's heard coming from above. Though the constant updates were appreciated as pretty soon into his pitch he disappeared from our sights and the only feedback we had from the leader was the occasional jaunt on the rope and the stream of "watch me" coming from above.

The crux of the route was a short corner of very steep ice, due to your ice axes pushing you back from the ice it felt like the ice was overhanging, though it was over quickly and some some sustained grade IV ice from there lead to the belay at the top of the pitch.

The final pitch of the route follows a long winding runnel of grade IV ice to the bottom of the snowy slopes on the main Liathach ridge. Erik climbed very quickly, placing screws with speed and was shortly at the snow slopes where another abalaklov thread belay loomed.

Erik heading up into the icy chimney

too good to be true!

Once we'd reached Erik we launched up the snow slopes so that we could reach the top of Liathach and eat our lunch on the top. The higher up the mountain we got the further around we could see until we reached the summit from where we could see for miles in all directions. Truly one of the best winter climbing views I've ever had.

On the approach to the summit

I sat on the summit cairn, eating pizza enjoying the beauty of Scotland around me. The climb had been unbelievably good, there was no single good pitch. All of the pitches were as good as each other and each pitch was of the highest calibre of climbing that we have in Scottish winter. The views from the summit really capped things off. We sat peacefully on the windless summit until we felt we could linger no more and began our descent.

Now the descent turned into a bit of an adventure, we walked along the ridge to the east, though we soon realised that the snow on the bulk of the mountain was quite dodgy. After some short discussion we decided to abseil down a large easy angled gully on the south side of the mountain. Thankfully this passed without too much drama though walking on snow you don't really trust is always a bit nerve racking. I was definitely glad for the rope. A couple of steeper sections split the gully and the ice on these was very poor and de-laminated whilst I was being lowered down by Erik and Joe. This was worrying to say the least and once again I was very grateful for the rope.

Soon we'd made it down to the bottom of the gully and beneath the snow line. Looking back at the south face of the mountain our caution had been warranted as much avalanche debris littered it's slopes. A short walk along the road took us back to the car park, we sat in the car for a short while eating food before we drove back south east to the Cairngorms in preparation for another days climbing.

The next day we knew that the northern corries would fill very quickly due to it being a weekend and that the weather forecast was spectacular, we opted for the early start to try and beat the crowds in. Thankfully this strategy payed off, and when we got to the bottom of fingers ridge (more like "fun"gers ridge). There was only one other party on it ahead of us.

The majority of the corrie was very heavily rimed and most of the routes looked like they'd be an unpleasant swim given the conditions. However due to the popularity of fingers ridge a groove up through the rime had been dug out and the climbing wasn't affected by the rime because of it, which made the climb a much more enjoyable experience. We climbed in 2 pairs, I was with Erik and Joe climbed with Paul. Myself and Erik set off first as Erik had the camera and would be able to take pictures of Joe leading from above. Erik got the first pitch of the climb which mainly involved climbing up on good snow and not much to sustain interest. Though soon he'd climbed the 60 metres of the first pitch and was belaying up above.

I quickly made it to where he was, and after a small break to cool down (it was unbelievably warm in the sun) I set off on the next pitch. The climbing on the second pitch was continuously fun and very interesting, with fantastic gear whenever you felt like you needed it. At first I was gutted not to have been able to lead the iconic fingers pitch, but after pitch 2 I felt like I hadn't missed out on anything, as it was just as good if not better than the climbing on pitch three.

Joe beneath us, leading pitch 2

Myself on the lead of pitch 2

Erik lead through on pitch three which we'd wrangled to be the final pitch of the climb. Erik threaded between the needles and was soon out sight. Behind the fingers was a short sharp wall, which was thin on the feet and required the ability to torque your axes well into thin cracks. Thankfully though the feet weren't mega the torques were about as good as they come. I felt like I should've been on a harder route than I was because of how thin and techy it all felt, right up my street! Erik made it past this wall by beached whaling onto the top which always adds some comedy value to a route. 

The classic shot

On my own way up I'd decided I wanted to stand on top of one of the fingers, which proved to be of the most trouser filling experiences I've ever put myself through. I discovered the wider of the two fingers was much harder to stand on top of, and so I had to stand on the narrower one, which was about the size of a place mat. I stood there and pretended like I wasn't scared and hoped that the pictures would be worth it. I was very jittery afterwards, much to my own amusement.

I needed new undies after this one.

The day ended by relaxing on the cairngorm plateau with good friends in glorious sunshine, what better way to spend an afternoon?

Great times.

Lots of people enjoying the weather