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February 2002 Other Articles
The Volunteer - Sean Kelly
Earlier this year, an item appeared in the newsletter asking for
volunteers to help with a research project in Scotland organised by
John Moores University. Well having time on my hands so to speak,
yours truly followed up the request and went on a 2 week trip to the
highlands in April when the rest of the country was shut because of
f&m. During the course we topped out on 26 Munroes (only 6 were
new!), ascended 45000ft and travelled in excess of 200 k. Throughout
our urine, weight, food intake, heart-rate, and metabolic -rate was
monitored, along with blood samples at the start and end of each
walk. It originally looked as if the project would have to re-locate
to the French Pyrenees because of the f&m. My bad luck that it
didn't. The dept of Physical Sciences at JMU was evaluating the
bodily performance and function of 2 different age groups.
Measurements were taken in the lab before the trip and afterwards.
They had already done these tests on the Liverpool Football team (
incl Michael Owen!) and on Steve Redgrave, the rower. At the end of
it all there was a limited debrief and some interesting facts emerged.
In all but one instance everybody's white blood cell count had
decreased by 50%, I had increased weight by 11/2kg, resting
heart-rate was well down(below 60) and blood is very cloudy and
bubbly after strenuous exercise. When comparing the two groups, the
older group generally had more stamina especially as the week
progressed. I am expecting a fuller debrief in the coming weeks.
Watch this space!
The Honorary Member's First Day on the Hill - Sheena Hendrie
Those of you who attended the 2001 Dinner will know that Neville
McMillan was told then that he had been awarded Honorary Membership
of the KMC, in part as recognition of his work on equipment safety
and appointment as Vice President of the UIAA Safety Commission.
So look what happened to our new Honorary Member the following day…….
Picture the scene: various of the KMC hanging around the Royal Vic
car park at 1030ish on Sunday morning. While not in the same
category of hangover as Dave D. and Michelle, the Honorary Member was
displaying (more than normal) signs of lethargy. Enter Roger Dyke,
far too wide awake and sober. The plan (hatched too late the night
before) was for us all to do Flying Buttress on the Cromlech. The
state of my own health I shall keep to myself, since I was designated
to lead this over-enthusiastic expedition, as well as providing the
chauffering service.
So up the Pass we drove, feeling smug when we nabbed the last parking
place at the Cromlech boulders. Smugness evaporated when we got out
the car and looked at hordes of little ants swarming all over Flying
Buttress. During the rapid rethink, Roger recited all the routes he
could think of in the area at Severe or below. I declined Crackstone
Rib, remembering the exposed rib on pitch two which did not appeal on
a November day after the Dinner. Somewhere in the litany The Cracks
on Dinas Mot appeared and three sets of eyes turned to the other side
of the Pass and observed a virtually empty crag. The only snag
appeared to be a damp streak crossing over the lower part of the
route. However otherwise it looked dry and with no wind (and no sun
to make the north side look more inviting), we opted for The Cracks.
While selecting a suitable wardrobe for the occasion at the foot of
the route, I suggested we take a headtorch it was after all
November, almost the earliest sunset of the year and it was now
midday. The Honorary Member/safety expert produced a lightweight
model which Roger nobly volunteered to transport. Suitably
over-equipped, off I went, wondering if I'd sobered up enough to be
leading a pitch with virtually no protection. However the belay was
reached without mishap and the intrepid seconds duly appeared.
The second pitch featured the lower part of the damp streak, so I
proceeded warily across the rock seeking out whatever placements I
could find. Thankfully these proved to be two bombproof nuts and a
good Friend placement. Having checked with the Honorary
Member/technical expert that I could rely on a Friend even on greasy
wet rock, I tiptoed across the wet patch to the belay. Again the
seconds followed so far so good.
Pitch three looked horrible dripping wet and slimy. While bringing
the others up I'd already worked out that we could ab off one of the
belay anchors. I'd lose a Rockcentric but it was the green one and I
don't like the colour so what the hell. However I knew I'd never
live it down if I backed off too soon, so having placed a bit of gear
within inches of the belay, off I went extremely hesitantly and
whinging that I did not know what I was doing. The seconds politely
refrained from comment. The guidebook says traverse delicately
across below the overhang delicate I duly was (don't laugh Duncan)
and edged gingerly across, expecting disaster at any moment. However
the corner was reached where I placed the biggest Friend I could find
before whimpering up the chimney and onto the belay.
The Honorary Member was the next up but first asked for the second
rope to be arranged as a handrail????? (Must be a new piece of
safety gear approved by the UIAA?) Up he came, judiciously testing
the gear on the way. Then Roger followed, extremely efficiently and
apparently not fazed by the less than perfect conditions.
Pitches four and five were delightful. Both were dry and presented
lovely handjamming cracks (honest Sabina). Even the step across on
pitch five off the pinnacle was not nearly as bad as I remembered it.
Only one pitch left and with time passing the Honorary Member and I
were happy to bypass the so-called “mantelshelf” move above. Roger
however seemed to have a fondness for it, born in the mists of time,
and volunteered to lead it. On reflection I decided that in the
interests of speed, I would keep on leading so set off. However
three goes later I found I'd run out of mental steam, and decided to
take up Roger's offer. We changed places and Roger duly sailed up
the crux move not quite stylishly since the feet were doing a good
imitation of a flailing machine but good enough and far better than
me. Unfortunately as he was sailing up, a piece of my gear was
sailing down from his harness.
The Honorary Member went next, encouraging Roger to improve his
belaying technique by keeping a tight rope. Before setting off I
checked if I could see below the escaped piece of gear and easily saw
it below on a ledge. Being a mean Scot and not wanting to litter the
crag with morsels for Duncan to scavenge, I agreed with Roger that he
would lower me down to retrieve the gear and I'd climb back up.
(Sneaky excuse to climb what turned out to be the fourth pitch of
Lorraine.)
Back on route and having slithered up the mantelshelf, we were all
now safely at the top. However the light was now fading, the
Honorary member cannot see in the semi-dark, and we feared the
descent gully would be greasy. So I belayed the others while they
descended a rope length, with the Honorary Member concentrating on
getting down as quickly as possible to take a belay at the other end,
and Roger fixing protection for me. After he left, I realised I had
no chance of getting down before the light went so shouted down to
Roger to leave the headtorch for me. What foresight (or was it
memory of climbing with the Honorary member in Wales in November on
previous occasions?) We all duly arrived half way down the gully as
it went dark.
Being a wimp I did not fancy another stretch of down-climbing in the
dark particularly since end of the gully is always wet and can be
hard enough even in daylight in summer. Here the Honorary Member at
last came into his own. He'd lined up a large solid spike as a belay
and we quickly decided to ab the rest of the way. I (not very)
politely declined Roger's offer of an old piece of 5mm perlon to ab
from if you've seen his climbing wardrobe, you would understand
why! I sacrificed a nice chunky bit of 9mm rope instead. The
Honorary member turned up trumps with a prusik for the first person
down to protect the ab.
At this point a kind lady shouted up from below to check if we were
alright. We thanked her for her concern and assured her we were OK.
We chose not to publicise that we had the exalted person of the VP of
the Safety Commission with us might not have been believed?
Thankfully the ab proceeded smoothly just as well since it was the
first either I or the Honorary Member had done in the dark, and
apparently only the second in any conditions Roger had done in 15
years. So at quarter to six we arrived back at the sacks, with only
the straightforward walk back to the road to complete.
With a combined age of 174 between us you would think we'd know
better. However in the words of the Honorary Member it was a
memorable and adventurous day which rounded off the Dinner nicely.
Or, to quote Mary Stuart, we were maintaining the best traditions of
the KMC.
PS: My last mountain day out in Wales was with two other KMC members
of respectable years. That also turned out to be more adventurous
than planned. So younger members if invited by any of the above or
Bob Anderson or Chris Thickett to share a day out, think quickly.
Some of these senior(ish) citizens turn out to be older versions of
Al Metelko in disguise. You have been warned.
Last day of the Year - Roger Dyke
Meet us in the big carpark by the lake at Llanberis. It may be a
bit icy, so Dave's bringing a spare ice-axe for you.”
Thanks Duncan - that could be handy”
Driving south across Anglesey 30 minutes later I could see it was
going to be a brilliant day. It was, in more ways than one….
I should have got a clue when Dave Kenyon produced a set of crampons
[never even touched a pair of those before] and two short ice-axes.
I don't need two axes Dave - I can stop myself fine with one”
Dave looks baffled and goes for a quick word with Duncan: “Be best
if you bring both really”
The six of us - Duncan & Sabina, Dave Bone, Dave Kenyon and Rob Allen
- steam up from Ynys Ettwys toward Cyrn Las. Happy memories from
1969 of a quick dash on the back of Jesse's motorbike at 6am, bacon
butty in hand, to do Main Wall before he met a client at 10 for a
day's guiding.
I steam slower than the main team, but Sabina stays back to keep me
company.
The A team put crampons on and vanish to a half-frozen waterfall
while the rest of us push on, to be joined by Tony Gask who must have
set a speed record coming direct from the Hut on foot. He and I
talk sailing. I still hadn't twigged why I had two axes on my pack.
We put crampons on below Parsley Fern Gully. The name meant nothing
to me then: now I know it's the traditional beginner's route. A
dozen or more folk up ahead seemed to be going slowly - with ropes.
“Doesn't matter” says Duncan “We can solo past them at the side.”
The penny starts to drop, but before I have time to think "Do I want
to do this?" Sabina has whisked me off and is showing me how to use
crampons in snow - then harder snow - then on ice.
Then how to use the axes “Don't hang on grimly to the shaft - let the
wrist-strap take your weight. It's easier if you don't put your
axes in so high - keep them closer to your feet.” Dave's axes are a
delight - I had never imaging how secure a few millimetres of axe
pick into ice could feel. And compared with swinging a felling axe,
these little toys are just a delight.
Front points really seem to work, just like on the TV… This is a
whole new world, and more fun than I had ever imagined.
Reality kicks in as both sets of points come out while I am shifting
the axes, but one axe holds and I get it all together again. Sabina
had reassured me at the start that the snow was very soft lower down
so I'd probably stop if I fell off; but it seems better not to,
especially as we have just passed a belayed leader bringing his
second up. [Must be beginners: why don't I qualify as a beginner?]
All too soon we are approaching the top and I follow Sabina out to go
diagonally up a smooth virgin sheet of ice to do a bit more
overtaking. I'm hot, it's tiring, but I know that is because I'm
using far too much effort: I really want to keep on going to learn
to be more efficient at it - but we are on the ridge now.
A stop for a drink and some photos - amazing visibility - then we're
off over Crib y Ddysgl and along the narrow ridge to Crib Goch. As
we go along the ridge a voice behind says “swing your feet wider when
you walk - this'd be a bad place to catch a crampon in your trousers”
and I realise Dave K is keeping an eye on me from behind. 4 hours
back, I would not have dreamed of being on this ridge in snow.
Over the Pinnacles - which I have only done twice before ever - and
I'm starting to get the hang of using crampons and axe on rock.
Works well. Half the party take theirs off, but I keep mine on and
I'm glad of them later. The team wait a couple of times for me to
catch up. This is brilliant - best day in the hills for a long
time. I would never have thought for a moment of being up here
doing this with snow around.
The team bash on like a train and half way down I have to ask for
another break - this is rapidly becoming the most exhausting day
since the Kettleshulme Walk that needed the John Castick Rescue Car.
One tricky bit of slippery rock, and I demonstrate my great skill at
Climbing by Numbers as the team call “left foot onto a ledge a bit
further down: now get your right hand on the chockstone by your
right knee….”
Then eventually we're back at the cars, and then the Hut for a quick
coffee, and who was it put a steaming bowl of onion soup in front of
me? Did I need that! Back across Anglesey to the family, on a real
high.
Did you meet up with your friends OK?” “Yes, a really good day”
Yes, indeed.
Postscript:
Two days later, up to Glaslyn with Jesse and somehow
we found ourselves kicking steps, then cutting steps, with one long
axe apiece, up a gully to the west of the lake. This was scary,
especially at the top where there was a clear glaze of thin hard ice
over turf. What a contrast with the security of crampons and two
short axes! How many times that day did I swear never to go where
it might be icy without them?
Thanks, Duncan, for [once again] getting me to do something I could
do - but wouldn't have if I'd known beforehand. And thanks Dave
for lending the gear, and Sabina for the coaching.
Anyone got axes and crampons to sell?
February Newsletter Index.
Copyright © 2002 Karabiner Mountaineering Club
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