MEET REPORTS

PLUS ÇA CHANGE

A SOLO DESERT ROAD TRIP

NEV HANNABY PROFILEGUIDEBOOK UPDATE

LEARNING TO LEAD BALANCING PLEASURE AND PAIN

SICILY

REVIEWS

County Climber

Magazine of the Northumbrian Mountaineering Club

Winter 2015

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REGULARS

8 EDITORIALJohn Spencer gives us the background info on all the latest and greatest articles.

10 WEEKEND MEETSA look forward at what’s coming up on our events calendar. Get your diarys read.

12 LOCAL NEWSSome more detailed information about the recent rock fall at Bowden Doors.

Cover Shot: Spenser Gray leading Honeycomb Wall (HVS 4c), Coe Crag Photo : John Spencer

About the Northumbrian Mountaineering Club

The NMC is a meeting point for climbers, fell walkers and mountaineers of all abilities. Our activities centre on rock-climbing and bouldering in summer, snow and ice climbing in winter and hill-walking in both.Meets are held regularly throughout the year.

The NMC is not, however, a commercial organization and does not provide instructional courses directly.

Copyright

The contents of this magazine are copyright and may not be reproduced without permission of the NMC.The views expressed in the magazine are not necessarily those of the Editor or the NMC.

Background: The club celebrates another successful meet at East Woodburn Photo : Conrad Ohnuki

CONTENTS

62 BOOK REVIEWSWe take a look at some of the latest and greatest publications.

48 PROFILE : NEV HANNABYJohn Spencer takes a look back at one of Northumberlands County pioneers

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22 MEET REPORTSA look back at some of our best meets this year.

26 PLUS ÇA CHANGE Robin Sillem takes a look back at being young and foolish, then old and foolish.

40 SICILY 2014Pete Flegg soaks up some holiday sun-shine

44 LEARNING TO LEAD Jamie Hewitson relives the first time lead-ing experience

Magazine articles

This is YOUR magazine so please keep it going by

writing about your own experiences ‘on the hill’.

See back cover for further details.

Send contributions to: magazine@thenmc.org.uk

FEATURES

46 SOUTH WEST SOLO WANDERINGSLewis Preston heads off into the deserts and canyons

50 BALANCING PLEASURE AND PAIN John Vaughan pushing himself and his physiotherapist to the limit...

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NMC Meets

The NMC Members’ handbook (available to all members) and the NMC website list the dates and locations of all meets.This magazine lists the meets arranged for the next few months.

Non-members are always welcome to attend meets.

Join the NMC

You can now subscribe online which is easier and faster. More information is available at: thenmc.org.uk

Membership Fees• Full £23• Prospective £15 Payment Payment of fees by GoCardlessDirect Debit is pre-ferred; it’s easy to set up, just click here.

Photographs by author of article unless otherwise stated.

You can visit our community :

WWW.FACEBOOK.COM/GROUPS/THENMC

and you can visit our official website :

WWW.THENMC.ORG.UK

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Wall concessions £1 off the standard entry price at:

- Sunderland Wall - Durham Climbing Centre - Climb Newcastle * - Newcastle Climbing Centre

Also winter season Wednesday nights at Burnside college, £6 entrance fee, open to NMC members and provisional members only. *Wednesday nights only

The sandstone of Northumberland offers some of the best boulder-ing in the Country, often in a remote and beautiful setting.

£12.50 to members (RRP £19.95) £2 P&P CONTACT: John Earl 0191 236 5922

NORTHUMBERLAND CLIMBING

Guidebooks

NORTHUMBERLAND BOULDERING NO NOBLER COUNTY

The definitive and comprehensive guide to climbing in Northumber-land – much more useful than ‘the other one’. £12.50 to members (RRP £18.95) £2 P&P

CONTACT: John Earl 0191 236 5922

Celebrating the sport of rock climbing in Northumberland, from first hand accounts of nail-booted ascents in the 1940s to bouldering in the 1990s.

£2 to members (while stocks last CONTACT: Martin Cooper 0191 252 5707

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W inter is nearly here. Or so I’ve been told. All in all it’s been an amazing year for the club. In our recent slideshow I pulled together a selection of photos from all the club meets, weekends,

weekdays, holidays and social nights out. We’ve had some fantastic evenings (as the photos prove) and hopefully we’ll have some brilliant winter adventures next year. In January i’ll be handing over the presidential gloves to current vice president Steve Blake. Steve has been a cornerstone of the North East climbing scene since I’ve been alive. He still contiunes to contribute today, as proven in his guidebook update this issue, so i’m really excited to see the direction the club goes in over the next few years. Here’s to another year of fun and adventure!

El Presidente

COMMITTEE

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Steve Blake

John Spencer

Vice President

Magazine Editor

Andrew Shanks Eva Diran

Edward Sciberras

General Secretary Treasurer

Dr Social

Alastair Boardman Dan LeadbitterSonia ByersPeter HubbardJohn Dalyrmple

Adrian WilsonMembersip Secretary

Committee Members

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Here we go, another issue of new-style County Climber, and once again all credit to Ian Birtwistle for helping put it together. Even basic command of Adobe InDesign still eludes me, so without his input this year’s two issues would simply not have happened (in this format at any rate). I am, however, hoping to take the lead on producing the next issue...watch this space!

Anyway, as El Presidente writes in his short piece, it has been a vibrant year for the Club, what with membership numbers looking as strong as ever (approximately 155 at the last count). This is partly the result of an influx (what our illustrious Prime Minister might call a ‘swarm’!) of younger members, bringing, as it did, the NMC’s average age ‘plummeting’ down to 48yrs! Meanwhile, the summer meets were generally very well attended (and well documented by the Club’s unofficial photographers, notably Conrad Onhuki and John Dalrymple), wall sessions see a decent turnout, and the winter social programme got off to a good start with a cracking talk last month from ex-NMC member, mountain guide and general gnarlmeister Tim Blakemore. The vibrancy can be attributed to at least two factors: (1) the use of social media, especially the NMC Facebook Chat page which constantly buzzes with, well, chat about forthcoming meets, general queries etc, and (2) the unswerving efforts of the Committee, notably El Presidente who keeps the FB forum going, but especially Adrian Wilson who has put in a huge amount of work into making the process of joining the Club pretty seamless, including ensuring neophytes are welcomed and cared for when they attend a meet or a wall session.

What’s in store for you in this issue, then?

Steve Blake and friends have been beavering away over the summer at venues new and old, and he provides an update on developments and production of the new on-line crag supplements.

I’ve been perusing Martin Cooper’s collection of old NMC Newsletters and County Climbers and noted that, until relatively recently, most contributions were ‘meet reports’, as opposed to articles describing other kinds of trips or reflecting on broader ‘issues’. So to give a snapshot of the some of the Club’s official activities, we’ve included a couple of meet reports (by Ian Birtwistle and Adrian Wilson, with photos from the Club’s latest unofficial photographer Conrad Onhuki) which capture the spirit of the typical Wednesday evening gathering, as well as a description of this summer’s ‘Learning to lead’ course by Jamie Hewison.

Meanwhile Robin Sillem gives a wry account, including some ‘top tips’, of two summer trips,

EDITORIAL

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thirty-four years apart, in his own words ‘....surprisingly similar tales of fun, misadventure and underachievement in assorted European climbing venues’. The more recent of the two trips, alas, resulted in serious injury on the very last day, necessitating a challenging and exciting retreat, typically understated*.

Talking of injury, veteran ‘conquistador of the useless’** John Vaughan reflects on coping with the ‘the impact of the accumulated damage of years of bodily abuse’, as he comes to terms with a chronic shoulder injury. Having just got back from a trip to Kalymnos with him, I have to say that despite the groans and the creaks he’s not doing too bad, as he puts it, ‘for an owd gadgee.’

Pete Flegg describes a short visit to the San Vito area in NW Sicily with a motley crew of NMC stalwarts, German friends and others. I’ve only been to Sicily once, in 2011, but there have clearly been major developments since then.....time for another visit, perhaps.

Seasoned adventurer and, for the time being, pensioner Lewis Preston certainly makes the most of the opportunities that come his way. Following a family wedding in Colorado he took off on a solo, twelve-day, several hundred-mile road trip through the desert National Parks of Colorado, Utah, and Arizona in an apparently completely unsuitable hire car. Thankfully the car held out, he avoided potential heat exhaustion and flash floods, death by poisonous snake or scorpions, and getting stuck in a slot canyon, Aron Ralston-like (did you have a sharp knife with you Lewis?), and he lived to tell the tale.

Jim Rigg, with characteristic brevity, reviews the new(ish) Lakes selected climbs guide from Wired. As Steve Blake says, he has attended and/or kept tabs on meetings of the Wired collective, which may be the way forward for producing a future County guide.

One of the things I intended to do when I took over as Editor three years ago (!) was to publish a series of articles based on conversations with some of the good and the great of County climbing, starting with the elder statesmen and women, aiming to capture their stories before they disappeared. I’ve got the ball rolling in this issue with a profile of Nev Hannaby, based on a conversation Mark Savage and I had with him in the summer. Inspirational.

Finally those who knew Jon Trafford were shocked by his untimely death whilst hill-walking in Torridon in September. I did not have the privilege of knowing him other than as a face in the pub, but he was clearly a top bloke as attested to by four of his friends in a touching obituary.

So there we go. I hope you’ll agree, if the content of this issue is anything to go by, the NMC (in its seventieth year, no less) is alive and well. Like every editor before me, I usually struggle to get enough material together for an issue, yet I know there are plenty of stories ‘out there’, they just need writing down. As mountaineer and author Pat Ament wrote ‘In lieu of actual climbing, the written word is a magical place to apply our audience.’ Go on - explore this magical place - you know you want to! Meantime, enjoy this issue.

- John Spencer

*since a couple of months had passed between Robin writing his article and its publication, I invited him to give an update on his recovery, which he declined, there being little more to say he reckoned, than that he’s getting better, indeed has been seen back on the plastic!

**from ‘Conquistadors of the Useless: from The Alps to Annapurna’, French mountaineer Lionel Terray’s autobiography’

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Friday 22nd-24th Jan - Mill Cottage | Winter Skills Course - John Spencer Friday 19th Feb - Laggen Winter Trip | The Cabin - Robin Sillam Friday 26th-28th Feb - Glencoe Winter Trip | Lagangarbh - Joe McCarty Friday 11th-13th March - Ben Nevis Winter Trip | Alex Mac - Eva Diran Friday 25th-27th March - Ben Nevis Winter Trip | CIC Hut - Tim Hakim

WEEKEND MEETS AND OTHER EVENTS

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The NMC Members’ Handbook (available to all members) and the NMC Facebook Page list the dates and locations of all meets. Or check out our Google Calendar.

8pm - 10pm

Venue: Hadrian Lesuire Centre in

Wallsend.

Due to Gary’s work commitments we

are holding this talk on Friday.

Gary took up climbing with his

brother Phil in 1973 and in 1977 did

his first new route. Ever since he has

dedicated almost his entire climbing

career to the pursuit of new routes.

Possibly the creator of the first sports

climb in the country, Gary has courted

controversy by challenging the bound-

aries of what is and isn’t acceptable.

Prolific, and sometimes controversial,

he has bolted and climbed over 4000

new routes.

If you went to Pembroke this year you

won’t want to miss this one!

OBSESSION GARY GIBSON

19FEB 2016

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Production of the crag supplements is well underway and a number have been uploaded to the web where they

are held in a ‘stack’ on the ISSU website. The supplements are held in a specific ‘stack’ that you can subscribe to here. This will ensure you don’t miss any new material that’s posted up. At the time of writing Parts One and Two of the Stell, High Crag, Blakey’s Bloc and Howlerhirst Quarry have been uploaded. Hopefully as you read this, Caller Crag Parts One and Two and Sandy Crag will have been uploaded, and Shitlington should be finished in time for Spring 2016. As ever I would make a plea for photos, if you’ve got out to these places, done problems/routes and taken photos, then

please get in touch with me, we need the photos and feedback on descriptions and grades. The club is also in the initial stages of liaising with the Guidebook Cooperative who produce the ‘Wired’ series of guides. The recent award winning selective guide for the Lakes is one they have published (see Jim Rigg’s review on page 62). The Coop comprises of the major guidebook producing clubs and their collective aim is to produce high quality guides that ensure the profits resulting from guidebook production are retained by the clubs, rather than commercial interests. The accompanying photographs are of some problems/routes that didn’t make the cut. Steve Blake

NORTHUMBERLAND GUIDEBOOK PRODUCTION

LOCAL NEWS

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Steve Blake topping out on ‘Retirement Plan’ 7a Sandy Crag Steve Blake ColleCtion

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B&W PHOTO: Martin Waugh on a Rothbury Branch Line 6c Lost Crag BoB Smith

ABOVE:Steve Blake on Bird of Pray 6b+ Sandy Crag Steve Blake ColleCtion FACING PAGE: Dan Varian on ‘Night Moves’, a very Highball f6c+ Sandy Crag Steve Blake ColleCtion

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David Murray extending himself on his problem at the Trench, 7a+ or 7b Steve Blake ColleCtion

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Steve Blake on a new E3 5c at Greensheen Hill Alec BurnS

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LEFT PAGE:David Murray on ‘A Deficit of Funk’ at Caller South f7a+ Steve Blake ColleCtion

RIGHT PAGE: Steve Blake on Lost Arete, 6c on the First Railway Bloc, Lost Crag Steve Blake ColleCtion

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SIMONSIDE

Article by : Adrian Wilson Photos : Conrad Ohnuki

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MEET REPORTS

“Another cracking NMC Wednesday evening meet, this time at Simonside. We had a total of 26 people at the crag; climbing conditions were good and the strongish breeze certainly kept any midges away but it did get ‘Baltic’ when belaying for a while and we were treated to some great cloud formations with an eerie mist enveloping Sarah and Edward as they bagged the last climb on Quartz Buttress when the temperature was definitely in the single digits.

I arrived at the crag to find Joe Spoor soloing stuff while he waited for Duncan; Joe led the bold Gillette (E3 5b) and battled up Thunder Crack (E1 5b), Duncan led Quartz Buttress (HVS 5a) and The Quiver (VS 5a).

Sonia (recovering from finger injury, good to see you back!), Jamie and Joel climbed Zig Zag Route (D) and Swastika Chimney (D) variants, and Jamie led Innominate Crack (VD).

Richard bagged three fine routes in Vibram Wall (HVS 5a), Stoic (E2 5c) and Quartz Buttress (HVS 5a) while partner in climb Kizzy led her first VS, the very fine Flake Corner (VS 4c).

As El Presidente said, there have been some fantastic evening meets this summer, really well attended and blessed with generally good weather. There has developed a tradition of someone putting together a short meet report for the club Facebook page. Below are two examples, one from the Simonside meet on , the other at Bowden Doors.

Joe McCarty (climbing with Josephine Crossland and Joe Boothby (causing much com-munication hilarity ) led Vibram Wall (HVS 5a) and Les Perchass (HVS 5b) while his belayer consumed significant amounts of cheesecake (thanks Dana!). Josephine was “encouraged” to do the very fine Quartz Buttress (HVS 5a) on which she kept a cool head and eschewed the post traverse gear and just gunned it through the overhang to avoid getting pumped. Brilliant.

Graham led Alex up Loophole Crack (S 4a) and Innominate Crack (VD) after they followed me up Flake Corner (VS) and Wide Eyed and Legless (VS). Funnily enough I spent quite a while at the top of that belaying Alex and Claire who both found the tricky sequence quite tricky and sequency….

Ed ticked off his nemesis Nee

Perchass (VS 5a) which he and I spent some time flailing on a couple of years ago though due to memory fragmentation I got terribly confused between Les Perchass and Nee Perchass when trying to give Joe Mc some advice; hey ho, sorry Joe.

Sarah motored up Les Perchass (HVS 5b) got some photogenic positions on the Peeping Tom (VS 4c) traverse (her favourite, the VS is for Very Slopey) before finishing through the Window Buttress followed by Ed and Dana. Failing light, approaching mist and beer starved belayer could not deter her from dancing up Quartz Buttress (HVS 5a).

Michael and Carolyn adopted siege tactic on Nameless Wall (VS 4c) then went on to Innom-inate Crack amongst others. Spenser led the delightful Delica-tessen (VS 4c), Quartz Buttress (HVS 5a) and Flake Corner Di-

rect Finish (HVS 5a without the side runner); Craig led (or was it soloed?) A Buttress Right Hand (S 4a) and Vibram Wall (HVS 5a).

Conrad, Anna and Maria joined mid-evening, I’m sure Conrad led a couple of routes (Flake Corner Direct?), Anna and Maria seconded a few while Conrad switched to photographer mode as the light took on that golden hue. Eva and Rebecca success-fully avoided the climbing all evening as well as avoiding Ravensheugh when they went for a bit of an explore.

At one point we had a row of four Jo/Joes at the base of the crag, shame Joseph Rudin couldn’t make it...

Great evening, great climbing, great craic polished off with a pint at the Turk’s Head for most, cheers everybody!”

THE METEOR MEET

Article by : Ian BirtwistlePhotos : Conrad Ohnuki / Ian Birtwistle

“In what will surely go down in history as the ‘Meteor shower meet’, you all turned up in your droves at Bowden last night to sample the delights of a clear sky, sunny weather and a cool breeze. Is this possibly the best run of weather we’ve had on Wednesday meets? Probably for a while! Radek had already arrived at the crag when I arrived and was climbing well with Claire and new member Anna Scott, Tom and Grace Curtis were nowhere to be found so I can only assume you guys got in early, bagged some great routes and left before the crowds arrived! From the photo posted I’ll assume Grace led Black and Tan (S 4c) amongst others… I’ll let you fill in the gaps. Mike Poremba climbed with Martin Cooper who’s just getting back into things after a long break, doing some of the easier classic routes of the crag. Mike especially enjoyed Deception Crack (VD) which I’ve always reckoned was worth a few more stars!

Michael Frost climbed with Carolyn Horrocks, cumulating with Michael attempting a valiant

effort on Canada Crack (HVS 5a) but not quiet getting it this time. Great effort for having a stab at it!

Elsewhere Joe Mccarty was enjoying an evening of HVS’s ticking off the classic Main Wall (HVS 5b) and the great but often overlooked Black and Tan Alternative Finish (HVS 5a). Dan Leadbitter was enjoying the sun-shine and working on his own tan but then saw the light and followed Joe up both routes.

Later on in the evening “Official Club Photographer” Conrad Ohnuki arrived with partner in crime Peter Hubbard to snap some shots in the golden hour and do some of their own climbing. I think Flake Crack (S 4b) was done with others in-be-tween an excellent picnicking

session. Adrian Wilson and the Malteser (Edward)) arrived with a couple they picked up off the roadside and brought to the crag. Adrian had great fun explaining to them they didn’t really want to the cold north of Scotland just yet… and should sample the de-lights of an afternoon at Bowden Doors instead. As it happens they left happy, after getting some climbing done, bagging a lift to be ‘dumped off at a beach’ and then acquiring transport to Edinburgh to claim what is possibly the only left available flat in the whole City, courtesy of Josephine Crossland (who did some climbing too).

Gareth Dunn arrived later to check out the climbing and see what the club was all about, hope you got a good idea and

leave some energy left for doing some routes next time smile emoticon

Moritz von Stosch and Felix Lar-rieu were also hanging around the main wall area.. climbing The Scoop (VS 4c), Deception Crack (VD), Main Wall Eliminate (HVS 5b).

A special well done to Claire Robertson for leading the fantastical fantastic ‘The Scoop’ (VS 4c), her third ever lead. A tremendous effort.

I’ll leave you all with my blurry star photos. Hopefully Conrad will send in some amazing star-light photos that really do the night justice!

Great to see so many of you out!”

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ONCE UPON A TIME, IN THE PREVIOUS MILLENNIUM, I WAS YOUNG AND FOOLISH, AND HAD JUST LEFT A GOOD UNIVERSITY WITH A BAD DEGREE AND ONLY DISTANT PROSPECTS OF EMPLOYMENT. OBVIOUSLY A CLIMBING HOLIDAY IN THE ALPS WAS CALLED FOR AND GRANDIOSE PLANS WERE MADE, BASED ON 90% WISHFUL THINKING AND 10% BLIND OPTIMISM. OUR FIRST PORT OF CALL WAS TO BE THE MELLO VALLEY. ONCE UPON A TIME, IN THE CURRENT MILLENNIUM, I WAS OLD AND FOOLISH, AND WAS WORKING IN A GOOD(ISH) JOB WITH A BAD GRACE AND ONLY DISTANT PROSPECTS OF RETIREMENT. OBVIOUSLY A CLIMBING HOLIDAY IN THE ALPS WAS CALLED FOR AND GRANDIOSE PLANS WERE MADE, BASED ON 90% WISHFUL THINKING AND 10% BLIND OPTIMISM. OUR FIRST PORT OF CALL WAS TO BE THE MELLO VALLEY.

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P L U S ÇA C H A N G E . . .

Author : Robin SillemPhotos : Anonymous

THE MORE OBSERVANT READERS AMONG YOU WILL BY NOW HAVE GRASPED THE STYLISTIC CONCEIT OF THIS ARTICLE (AND THE LA-

BOUR-SAVING CUT-AND-PASTE IT INVOLVES) BUT, TO BE HONEST, IT’S IRRITATING ME ALREADY, SO LET’S TAKE THESE TALES ONE AT A TIME.

We were four equally feckless youths in a red estate car full of assorted crap, and, as owner of the car, I was also the only one unable to drive, owing to never having learned. To keep things simple we threaded the car keys on a bootlace. The car itself had had a chequered history and my dad had just rebuilt the engine after it blew up on the way back from the Peak one night, and had done some major rust-proofing work. The catchphrase of the trip was “You fucking dickhead”, used frequently and for the most part accurately.

Our plans suffered their first modification on the ferry. It came to us in a flash that a day spent driving was a day wasted, and that there was bound to be some climbing on the way to Italy via Switzerland. Freyr was mentioned and some place in Germany that no one could remember the name of. Belgium seemed too early for a stop, and by some navigational ineptitude we missed that fine country, but by mid-afternoon we were ‘somewhere in Germany’ and looking out for rock. At this point I was able to deploy my grade C ‘O’ level German to good effect by (a) translating “Fischfrikadelle mit kartoffelsalad” on a menu and (b) embarrassing/offending the lady in a bookshop by asking for a “Fuhrer buch” while miming climbing moves right-handed. “Shall we try En-glish?” she said, but that didn’t get us much further as there didn’t seem to be any climbing for miles around. The fish cakes were quite nice, though. The rest of the journey passed without incident – apart from huge plumes of thick white

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Plus Ça change...

kundalini

29

smoke pouring out of the wheel arches as dad’s bitumen paint burned off the brakes on the way down the SplÜgen Pass – and we rolled into the campsite at San Martino at lunchtime the next day.

In those unenlightened times the Mello valley wasn’t really a ‘Thing’, you just walked through it on the way up to the Allievi Hut, studiously ignoring the vast quantity of unclimbed granite on either side, and not even noticing all the boul-ders. We decided not to patronise the hut (to save money and to avoid embar-rassing/offending any Italians with our language skills) and found what seemed to be a two-person bivvy boulder that would easily accommodate four if we took it in turns to breathe. At this point it became clear that ‘leading by exam-ple’ is a crock of shit, as none of the others had followed me in putting food into their rucksacks. However all was not lost, as Paddy had brought a load of home-grown “mixed herbs” wrapped in newspaper, which all blew away as soon as he unwrapped it, and Tim had a bottle of the local grappa, which was so awful we used it as Trangia fuel. The food thing was easily solved by walking all the way down to the car and back the next day, and on our return to our bijou rockette we set to work. One axe between four brought our options down to a manageable choice, and Paddy and I set off on a rock route, while the other two took The Axe on something loose with a glacier descent. As it turned out it was our descent that provided the near-death experience when the rope snagged some rocks I was teetering round, but on the bright side it also proved that you can sometimes do head-first-on-your-back ice axe brakes without an ice axe. Tim and Jonathon eventually returned looking somewhat traumatised, but claiming to have learned some important lessons about alpinism. Clearly our apprenticeship was now complete and mastery within our grasp – time to make bigger plans.

Plus Ça change...

Legoland

Unkown climber on Incastromania (E1 5b)

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Plus Ça change...

Chamonix in the early 80s was a great place for playing cards in the rain. A week passes and we make more weather-friendly plans. For the best, perhaps. We all knew about the Verdon Gorge. I’ll have more to say about it in the more recent trip report, and my personal climbing experience on this first occasion was relatively benign, which is to say that the nightmares are no longer very frequent. The après-climb was more memorable, involving playing conkers* in the campsite and scoffing delicious pastries from the patisserie in La Palud when we got back from the crag. One day Tim and Jonathon went to do La Demande and didn’t get back from the crag, so we ate their pastries and collected the lads in the morn-ing after a night out in the exit chimneys, which are pretty damned hard even when you can see what few hold there are. Verdon top tip - if this happens to your mates, do as we did re the pastries, but don’t bother driv-ing to the Couloir Samson and flashing Morse code messages with the car headlights – it’s miles away. After a while we grasped the basic truth that we were not cut out for this sort of thing and made less demanding plans. Plans to go to the seaside, and go climbing there instead of any of that wet and scary uphill stuff. The Calanques are a paradise of low-stress (assum-ing you don’t mind your car being nicked) climbing/swimming/generally dossing around in the sun near Marseille. Loads of boats and so ‘Admiral Brown’** was present, but otherwise it’s quite hard to come to serious harm, and no further planning was needed. Car theft did rather seem to be a local pastime though – as we set off for home we stopped at a roadside fruit stall, and Jonathon put his foot through the bootlace, neatly snapping the key off in the lock (“You fucking dickhead”). Luckily a nice man appeared and hot-wired the car for us in no time. *Hurling conkers at each other in their spiky shells, in gathering evening twilight, using Deadmen as shields - excellent fun.

Risveglio di Kundalini

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**Jobbies in the water.

It was just me and my son Nick in a red estate car full of assorted crap, and, as owner of the car, I was the only one able to drive, owing to my not having him put on the insurance before leaving. To keep things sim-ple I drove all the way. There was nothing wrong with the car and no one called anyone a dickhead of any kind.

Our plans suffered their first modification on the ferry. It came to us in a flash that we should check the weather forecast for the Bregaglia, our intended destination, and it was bad. Not apocalyptic, just rain and thun-derstorms. The South of France looked a bit more like it, so we turned right at Holland and pointed the car towards the Verdon Gorge. By some navigational ineptitude, we passed more sites of historical interest than was strictly necessary, eventually having to reverse out of a dead end in some god-forsaken hell hole in the Ardennes. Still, the Verdon is quite big, so you can’t really miss it, and we rolled into the municipal campsite at La Palud at lunchtime the next day.

I’m going to ‘out’ myself now – the Verdon Gorge always kicks my arse, every time (so does Northumberland, of course, but that’s a different story). I suspect this is one of those things that happens to everyone but that no one talks about, and that this admission will trigger a wave of revisionist memoirs. However, on this occasion, we excelled our-

Plus Ça change...

32

selves, choosing Riviere d’Argent for our afternoon’s fun, a 4 pitch bolted French 6b, ab in from the top, starter for ten. One top tip I can offer is “Count the fucking belvederes as you drive up the crest road”. Three is not a large number, but like all numbers accessible with elementary mathematics it has a definite value, and is different from (say) 2, or 4. Failure to follow this simple procedure leads to a lot of peering over the edge of a colossal drop, trying to relate the image in the guidebook to the reality of somewhere else. Around tea-time we got squared away and descended into the abyss.

There are a variety of uniquely wonderful things about climbing in the Verdon. For instance abbing to the bottom of the route leaves you half way up the crag, with no way off but up. On the other hand, the vultures fly below you, which makes them less scary, but leaves you worrying that they will be giving themselves a bad neck as they size you up for the pot. The important thing, though, is that it’s hard. Maybe you get used to it eventually, but suffice it to say that nobody was expecting Nick to have any trouble whatsoever on a French 6b but we finished in the dark (to

Plus Ça change...

my credit, I had anticipated having to pull on the gear when I could no longer see the holds), though without the 5 mile walk back to the car we had last time we were there. Next day we fooled around on the Miroir du Fou for a few routes, declared it too hot, tried a day at Chateauvert (likewise) and made cooler plans.

Orco (not to be confused with Arco) is a climbing area in Italy, in the Gran Paradiso, North of Torino. The main event is a big granite crag named Sergent, and the climbing is either blank slabs (bolted) or jam-ming cracks (bring many cams). It’s well up the valley, so not too hot, and not at all crowded. Granite slabs are marvellous things, though there does comes a point when one totally holdless heart-in-mouth padding move starts to seem suspiciously similar to the last 50. The cracks are great, and routes like Legoland (UK E1 5c) and Incastromania ( UK E1 5b) would be classics anywhere. Fessura di Disperazione (UK E2 5b) looked amazing too, a 3-pitch diagonal offwidth, though we didn’t get round to actually doing that one for some reason. Weirdly enough, the most iconic bit of jamming at Orco is right next to the campsite, the Fessura Kosterlitz (f6a+/V3), a test-piece* hand crack that splits a roadside boul-der. It’s got its own carpeted launching spot and (imagine this happening

Unknown climber on Kundalini

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Plus Ça change...

in the UK) the new road through the valley was re-routed around it by popular demand. Top tip for Orco is “Make yourself some tape gloves”. We do not recommend “Man the fuck up and bleed from every knuckle”.

Arco (not to be confused with Orco) is a climbing area in Italy, at the top of Lake Garda. It’s most famous for its series of big limestone walls, but we went there for sport climbing. Top tip for Arco is “Don’t go there in mid-summer because it will be hotter than seven hells, including wherever it was you were last, even at stupid o’clock in the morning”. A load more driving brought us up to the Engadine valley, which is very nice, but not really worth it for cragging, so eventually we went back down and round to the plan we had abandoned on the ferry.

In these enlightened times the Mello Valley is very much a ‘Thing’, and nobody in their right mind walks past the vast quantity of now-climbed granite on either side of the path up to the hut. Apparently there are some boulders too. Actually, Plan A was indeed to walk past all that stuff and do some high-Alpine rock climbing, but with now only one day of our hol-iday left we decided to go for the super-classic Risveglio di Kundalini**, a 10 pitch trip up one of the lower walls, at a reasonably stress-free and amenable HVS or so. We got a very early start to avoid the heat of the day and made good progress for the first 8 pitches, whereupon I got the last hardish pitch. Now my Italian language skills are on the shit side of non-existent, but even I can figure out what “movimente athletico” means, and after a short traverse over an awesome void and a few moves up a groove, there it was, a very high step over a bulge and a shouldery pull to a jug. My hands were an inch off the jug when my foot noisily transformed itself from a useful organ of support into a floppy mass of pain and off I came. The ensuing retreat was ‘interesting’, as one of my ropes jammed below me, requiring a bit of one-legged climbing back up and rope swap-ping , and some awkwardness to avoid swinging out over the aforemen-tioned awesome void. Nick took over once I was down, retrieved most of the gear, bandaged me up and organised the 4 long painful abseils to the deck down a different route. At this point the thunderstorm started, and we had a very soggy hobble back down the valley, with a certain amount of swearing, sporting what eventually turned out to be a ruptured Achilles tendon.

So there we are. Thirty four years separating 2 surprisingly similar tales of fun, misadventure and underachievement in assorted European climbing venues, and my (to date) only climbing-related injury. I’m sure I’ve learned something in all those years, but I’ve no idea what it is. Oh hang on, I know. Last top tip: “Raise your child to be an utterly reliable and competent climb-er, so they can get your ageing carcase off the hill when it all goes tits up”.

*Crag 1, team 1.** On UKC’s list of ‘Ten multi-pitch routes worth travelling for (which list also includes La Demande in Verdon Gorge)

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Unknown climber on RdK

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Club T-shirts and hoodies are available in a range of sizes. T-shirts are yellow, hoodies are red.

T-Shirts - £ 15 Hoodies - £ 25

Contact Eva Diran on: 7824627772

ediran@hotmail.com

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LAST DAYS OF

PIXEL

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FIRST PAGE: The last rays of the day on East Woodburn. Conrad ohnuki

ABOVE:

Edgaras Kozubovskij exploring the delights of Pembroke on the final summer meet of the year. edgaraS kozuBovSkij

FACING PAGE: Alex Speirs exploring the delights of Henhole, on a last summer weekend trip. Conrad ohnuki

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Bryn Roberts in action

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SICILY2015

Author : Pete Flegg Photos : Pete Flegg collection

Bryn Roberts in action

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It wasn’t an auspicious start – on John Vaughan’s recommendation we visited Erice – just south of the climbing at San Vitolo Capo - intending to stay the night there. It was overcast when we started the drive up to Erice, situated at 750m, it was raining when we arrived and the tempera-ture had dropped dramatically in comparison to the coast. We started the walk up through the narrow village streets heading towards the town centre but we hadn’t gone too far before we de-cided that the marble stone slabs were unpleasantly slippery and concluded that Erice just wasn’t meant to be visited on a wet day.

We luckily managed to get our booked cabin at El Bahira camp ground a day early – but what they didn’t tell us was that we would have no electricity until much later that evening.

Next morning we walked down to find Nick Steen, Trevor Langhorne, and Patrick and Julie Ha-zelhurst eating the last of the croissants with their coffee – they had arrived late and were in no rush. On the walk back to our room we got chatting to the guy with a grey beard staying in the cabin next door to ours – he had a large pile of climbing gear, battery powered drill and bolts. He was eager and started giving me advice on the best routes and areas to climb at and provided info on the new routes he and his brother were putting up. As soon as he mentioned his name, Scott Titt, it finally clicked that he was the guy shown in the guidebook as one of the three main developers of the crags there! More embarrassingly I didn’t know until he mentioned later that he was also the president of the BMC!

I explained that I was awaiting the arrival of my German climbing partners: my Berlin mate Guen-ther and his daughter Konstanza. Scott told me that both he and his brother speak German, that his brother has lived in Munich for about 20 years – so there were plenty of bilingual conversa-tions during the week.

My German friends were flying down the day after the now infamous German co-pilot crashed his plane into a mountain in France killing all on board – everyone was jittery with nerves he told me.

By now Graham Williams and Derby-based non-NMC regular Richard ‘Reng’ Hardwick had ar-rived, Bryn Roberts was the last of the group to turn up.

We split into small groups and went off in all directions. Guenther had until now only been boul-dering in Berlin but had just completed a lead climbing course. Konstanza, his daughter, was recently back from a year on a university swap in Brisbane, Australia where she had caught the climbing bug. So we started easy on the F4s and 5s at Orchid and Scomparto Rifiuti so I could check that they knew how it all worked and they would live to tell the story. After lunch a minor disaster struck: Guenther taking photos of his daughter leading some easy slabs walked back-wards into a large boulder and fell, grazing his back and arm – which had a negative effect on his grades for a couple of days.

Over the next days we slowly covered all the lower graded routes (F5c+ or under) on the cliffs that sit just behind the camp ground – our favourite routes were on the Recinto and Ution walls. We even got our partners: Guenther’s Chilean wife and my partner Liz climbing on Pizzeria, the beginners’ wall. The NMC people in the group were going further afield than us but on the last two days we finally reached the Castello and the Bunker areas to the north of the camp ground where we did the most enjoyable routes of the trip; we particularly liked ‘Colpo di Vento’, ‘Il Non-no’ and ‘Fuer Christian’ all 5c. Konstanza had progressed every day and became more and more confident – she finished on a high: a short 6a ‘Ruck Zuck.’

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One hot day we finished climbing early and drove back to Erice, this time making it up the dry marble path to the main square.

There was a large Climbers Club group in attendance – we were effectively part of this group as Nick Steen, a CC member, had first suggested to us all the idea of climbing at San Vito. The brothers Scott and Jim Titt were also part of the group.

On the first evening that the campground pizza tent was open for business a large group of us (ca. 40 people) sat together at one table talking, drinking and eating – there were two oth-er large national groups there one from Denmark and one from Germany, so it was a noisy evening. On the final night the woman leading the Climbers Club meet organised a special meal for the British group, the evening started in front of her caravan with beer and wine (see photo.) We then moved up to the main restaurant where Scott gave a short speech and introduced us to some compli-mentary ‘alcohol’ that would definitely leave a hangover if you consumed more than a small glass of it.

It was a great farewell evening.

“...what they didn’t tell us was that we

would have no electricity until much later that evening. “

With Guenther and Konstanza

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Guidebook: Sicily Rock: Sicilia Sport Climbing Area: Although there is climbing all over Sicily. The San Vito area is covered in detail by Sicily Rock. This is a modern guide with good photo topos written in German, English and Italian. The guide is also available at El Bahira Camping reception, if you are unable to pick up a copy before you leave. Weather: San Vito offers year round climbing but like all Mediterranean destinations periods of cold rainy weather during the winter are not uncommon. There are a few caves and sheltered crags which of-fer bad weather climbing. The best season is prob-ably from mid October to the end of March with some extension either way if you like heat.

Accommodation: The most obvious place to stay is at the El Bahira campsite www.elbahira.it which offers rapid access to hundreds of routes without the need to drive.

The final night party begins – Bryan and Graham with the organiser

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Learning to

I’m an Emergency Medical Technician working with the ambulance service and I’m used to being in uncomfort-able situations. I can make decisions where the out-come could mean you live or die in a split second, I’ve been threatened with knives, screwdrivers and baseball bats, but I keep going back to work. This, however, was a new fear, a new threat to my safety. A 10mm rope is all that was stopping me from plummeting to certain death (I thought when three feet off the ground).

Since that day I’ve caught the bug, I’ve bought my own shoes, harness and belay plate and I’m slowly building up a collection of nuts, quickdraws, slings, hexes etc. Next on the wish list is a decent rope.

Author : Jamie HewitsonPhotos : C Ohnuki & Others

I’m 29 years old. Last year a friend persuaded me to go climbing with her. I was a little dubious at first but off to Sunderland climbing wall I went, rented a pair of shoes and a harness and looked at the wall thinking “Not a hope in hell”.

A new member getting belay advice

Adrian Wilson proving you can never wear too many

coats

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I joined the NMC and met a rag-tag bunch of like-minded people, all strangely fascinated with clinging to a cliff by their fingertips with almost certain death lurking below (should your belayer not be paying attention), and was amazed by the sheer amount of trust these people place in a complete stranger (me) to keep them safe, and likewise I with them. My life literally in their hands.

Fast forward a bit, and I was given the opportunity of learning how to lead climb. So far I’ve only seconded or third climbed outside, so a new challenge and a confidence booster seemed like a good idea...at the time...

The day arrived. I pulled up in the car park at Steel Rigg near Haltwhistle at 0900 and met my group for the day. Carl was to be my instructor, and I was joined by Sonia, Annie and Luke. Introductions were made, and off we went towards the crag. The weather wasn’t exactly per-

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fect with high winds and rain forecast, but I’m here now, and I want to play on the rocks. It’s only a 15 minute walk from the car park to the base of our first climb, ‘Route One’. It’s not a particularly difficult climb (V Diff) but it was my first lead climb and the fear had returned. We had a safety briefing from Carl, and practiced some gear placement at ground level to make sure we were confident. Carl climbed up first and I “second lead climbed”

Carl set up a top rope, and belayed from the top while Luke belayed me from the bottom on a lead rope. The top rope was kept fairly slack and was only there as an emergency back-up. I placed my own gear, seated it as best as I could, and clipped my rope in. I was gaining confi-dence as I was going up the rock, however as I reached a bit of a crux and looked down, I was about 2 metres above my last gear placement. I completely forgot that I was on a top rope as well, and couldn’t see anywhere to place my hands or feet. “Shit!” I thought to myself “I live here now!” I precariously balanced on a thin ledge for a while when I noticed a little crimp above my head to my left, and a huge juggy hand hold about an inch out of reach to my right. A little leap of faith and I was past the crux!

The winds were starting to pick up with gusts of around 50mph by the time I reached the top. I quickly anchored myself to the top of the crag and set up belay so I could safely bring up Luke , followed by Annie.

After walking back down we moved to try and find a more sheltered part of the crag and decided to climb ‘Ulysses’ (V Diff). Again, while we were climbing, the winds picked up, the rain started driving down, and we got completely soaked! We took shelter under some trees a little further down and practiced setting up belays and placing gear before finally admitting defeat around 16:30 and retreating to the nearby pub for a well deserved pint of Guinness.

I thoroughly enjoyed the course and feel like I learned a lot, from safe gear placement to building belays, tying different types of knots, and shouting climbing calls. It was a challeng-

Practicing different belay setups in 50mph winds

Grace Curtis on the sharp end

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“ ...while we were climbing, the winds picked up, the rain started driving down, and we got completely soaked! ”

ing day, a day of getting blasted by wind and driving rain, getting grit lodged in my eyes, ears, nose and mouth, a day of minor cuts and bruises, with the medical part of me constantly scanning the terrain thinking “If I fall and seriously injure myself, how close can the road ambulance get and where can the helicopter land...?”

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NEVHANNABY

Nev in 1957 wearing the latest gear! Note suede kletterschuhe (Austrian) from Lawries of London

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Although he wasn’t as prolific a first ascentionist as many other County pioneers, most of his routes are starred classics and characterised by their physicality and boldness: Tactitation, Devil’s Edge, Green Line, Neglect, Twin Cracks, Evasion Groove, The Witch, Magic Flute to name a few of them.

Take Tacitation at Kyloe Out, for instance. Graded VS 5a in the current guide, it would probably notch a HVS rating in many other climbing areas. Obviously not hard by current standards, but that bouldery start is a bit of a beast and even when you’re established in the crack above it feels awkward for a further few moves, never mind the slightly unnerving booming flakes encountered higher up. He climbed it on-sight (although it had been unsuccessfully attempted on a top-rope the week before) wearing sand-shoes a.k.a. plimsolls, with only a line sling on a small spike low down to the left of the crack for protection, and with a fair amount of loose rock to contend with at the top. This necessitated a move left out of the crack onto the wall and much harder ground, approximately where Wasted Time now goes at a solid E1 5b. He graded the route Severe! On a previous trip he’d done the FA of Devil’s Edge (HVS 5a) with Geoff Oliver and Derek Walton, as well as making a spirited solo attempt on the wall that eventually became Wilfred Prickles, repelled, as he was, just below the break by the infamous gorse bush which gave the route its name.

The Tactitation story was one of a stream that flowed freely on a sunny afternoon earlier this summer as Nev talked in his living room with Mark Savage and myself (1). Having protested that he didn’t have much to say, the next two and a half hours saw

If you’ve climbed around the County for any length of time you will almost certainly have grappled with one or more of Nev Hannaby’s routes.

Profile: Nev Hannaby As told to John Spencer & Mark Savage

Photos: Nev Hannaby collection

Camping at Great Wanney early 50s

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Nev recount tale after tale of derring-do, but not in any way boastfully, and done with great discretion when it came to commenting on the behaviour or ethics of others, both on and off the rock.

Born and brought up in County Durham, he started climbing in his teens. Like most people of that era, this was a natural progression from hill-walking and scrambling. By the by, he was also a keen cyclist and rode all over the County and indeed the country, including some epic cycling and camping trips to Wales and the West Country. When he was 15 he drove to Skye on his sister’s motorbike, doing the journey in one day, quite an undertaking bearing in mind this was long before by-passes, dual carriageways, motorways and the like. Unfortunately the bike broke down when he arrived, so while it was being fixed in Broadford he went walking in the Red Cuillin, armed only with a cyclists’ touring map. Appetite for adventure in the hills suitably whetted, the next day he attempted the traverse on Clach Glas but was nearly blown off it in a gale and retreated. However, the following day he climbed and scrambled up nearby Blaven, and the seed was sown.

His first rock climb in the County was at Great Wanney. He and his brother camped there and tackled Great Chimney (V Diff). Nev effectively soloed the route, leading it with the hemp rope dangling from his waist, and with no gear; unfortunately his brother couldn’t follow. However to crown the glory, he climbed the route again the next day to have his photo taken! In the early 1950s there were very few other climbers about and precious little information about any climbing. Nonetheless Nev visited Great Wanney frequently and climbed most of the existing routes, usually solo. To get to Great Wanney in those days you took a bus from Newcastle to Knowesgate on the A696 and walked in, some five miles along the road. He often camped at the crag, stashing his tent in Foxes Hole, the chimney-cum-recess to the right of Great Wall. To this day he is certain the local gamekeeper spotted him lowering his treasured possession into its hiding place and went and nicked it later!

One day at Wanney he met Chris Waters, a climber from Sunderland after whom the F&RCC

Nev in Great Chimney at Wanney on his second ascent

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hut in Kinlochleven would be named many years later, who invited him along to an NMC meet at Ravensheugh the following weekend. Without a car, the journey in-volved a bus ride to Rothley, a night in Rothley Shiel Youth Hostel (a small wooden hut near Greenleighton Farm a mile or so north of Rothley crossroads built originally as a shooting lodge; it closed in the mid-50s) and a walk of some 8 miles the next day. This wasn’t perhaps as arduous as it might sound in the days before Forestry Com-mission plantations blanketed the landscape, indeed according to Nev it was a just a stroll across moorland. But an eight mile walk-in nonetheless! He arrived at the crag to find the meet in full swing, with a mass assault underway on The Crescent (Severe 4b). Unfortunately no-one was able to climb the route so up stepped the young whip-persnapper Hannaby to show them how it was done, this time tied onto a nylon rope as they wouldn’t let him use his hemp rope! On the back of his bold performance he was invited to the next meet at Crag Lough the following weekend.

Crag Lough and Peel Crag, rather than the County’s sandstone crags, were the main centres of action in the 50s. A guide had been published in 1952 by the NMC and a small group of activists, led by Albert Rosher, in due course joined by Nev, were vying to put it out of date. Despite the guide, however, information about routes, who had done what, when and with whom, was thin on the ground, with routes often not re-

CLCC bivying at Ravensheugh mid-50s

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corded and word-of-mouth virtually the only medium. Nev struck up a prolific partnership with one of the Crag Lough Club members, Geoff Oliver, who went on to make his mark in the Lake District with a string of quality hard first ascents, notably Ichabod on Scafell’s East Buttress (a three star E2 5c mega-classic, honoured with an entry in Hard Rock). During the late 50s they were at the forefront of developments in the County. Nev compiled a guide to Peel and Crag Lough that was never published. Rothbury Quarry was another popular venue in the 1950s and 60s, although now more or less returned to the wild with only the occasional visitor. Once upon a time, however, it sported a stack of hard routes and was a testing ground for the aspirant hardman. A shack provided a good doss thus the quarry became quite a hub; Nev showed us an entry in the hut log book dated 2nd October 1965 noting the visit of the legendary American big wall climber Yvon Chouinard – apparently he tried to lead the then-hardest climb at Roth-bury, Ogre, but didn’t get up it (doubtless to the delight of the locals – clearly sandbagging in the County is a dark art with a long history!)

Nev Hannaby and Geoff Oliver, Jacksonville, Glencoe

Summer 1957

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The ethic of the time was very much for ground-up first ascents. Some gardening was accept-able but pre-inspection on a top-rope was frowned upon, although people were known to do it whether or not they owned up to it! Gear was basic: plimsolls were the footwear of choice for the new-router, the cheaper the better (because the cheap ones were stickier, apparent-ly), with thick socks pulled over when climbing wet or greasy rock. Specialist footwear such as ‘Kletterschuhe’ were available but pricey; the rope (hemp was being gradually replaced by the new hawser-laid nylon ropes) was tied directly round the waist, or attached with a (steel) karabiner to a hemp waist line (comprising several loops of hemp line wrapped round the waist to form a kind-of belt); protection was predominantly from slings and jammed knots, although by this time people were starting to use pebbles and chockstones and/or homemade nuts in cracks; pegs for aid or protection were always a source of controversy and avoided if possible, although a spot of aid climbing for its own sake was part of the portfolio of the modern climber,

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“Early morning far away from civilisation, bliss”

Camping at Henhole, College Valley, 1980s

particularly important if one aspired to climb in the Alps. Overall the dictum that ‘the leader must not fall’ was the order of the day, the consequences of even a modest fall being potentially grim.

Some of the routes Nev led were actually first free ascents. Take Neglect at Crag Lough (HVS 5a), for example (for what it’s worth, in my opinion Neglect is one of the best lines at the crag....when it’s clean, which is sadly rarely despite recent attention at BMC clean-ups). It had been climbed by Rosher and Frank Carroll, but they might have used some aid (a peg? a chockstone?). Nev’s modest claim was simply to have ‘popularised’ the route by climbing it free. Similarly Block Chimney Superdirect (HVS 5a) had been led with a peg and a sling but, again, Nev led it free. Or take the route now known as Green Line (E1 5b) at Peel which had also been aided; again, he freed it, and named it The Sword after the rather threatening spike that stands at the start of the route (2) - might this have been the County’s first E1? To put these achievements into context, at this time the leading British outcrop climbers of the day such as Brown and Whillans were putting up routes now graded E1-E3, 5b/c such as Hen Cloud Eliminate at The Roaches (E1 5b, 1957), Insanity at Curbar (E2 5c, 1958). Clearly Northumberland climbing, through the efforts of Nev and compatriots, was not far behind.

New-routing was not confined to Crag Lough and Peel, of course. Nev left his mark all over the region including a notable attempt on what eventually be-came Great Wall at Great Wanney. With a piece of wooden railing hammered into the horizontal break at the top of the initial corner and a channel peg for protection (in the end he didn’t use the railing!), he tried the obvious direct finish before traversing off onto Foxes Hole. The first ascent of the ‘ordinary’ route had to wait another dozen years and went at HVS 5b to Hugh Banner and Mick Foggin; the direct finish attempted by Nev was left to the enigmatic John Syrett to bag a few years later at E5 6a. Nev even discovered Causey Quarry when working down Marley Hill Pit!

Of course he also climbed beyond the bounds of the North East, including Wales, the Lakes and Scotland as well as 2 or 3 Alpine seasons. On one no-table trip to Skye he climbed with Geoff Oliver and Dave Redhead. On Day 1 they did Amphitheatre Arete (Mod) as a warm-up; the following day they climbed over 550m of rock on the Cioch up to VS in standard (an impressive outing for a rope of 3); finally, on Day 3, they dropped over to Coruisk and climbed Crack of Dawn (VS 5a) on Sgurr Mhic Coinnich which had the repu-tation of being the hardest route on Skye at that time. On the way home Nev and Geoff dropped in on Jacksonville, doss of the notorious Creag Dhu club from Glasgow which was situated next to the river below Buachaille Etive Mor. Nev had met Creag Dhu stalwart Johnny Cunningham whilst climbing in Glencoe the previous winter (armed with a single ex-WD axe and nailed boots!). Cunningham invited him to stopover if ever passing through Glencoe. Presumably Cunningham saw the glint in Nev’s eye – not any old Tom, Dick or Harry (Tam, Jimmy or Hamish?!) was invited to stay at Jacksonville - it was not the salubrious, bijou residence it eventually became*** comprising, as it did at that time, an earth-floored sheep pen with tarpaulin stretched across it to form a roof. The next day they were taken up onto the East Face of North But-

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Camping at Henhole, College Valley, 1980s

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Inside Jacksonville, Glencoe Summer 1957

tress and pointed in the direction of an unclimbed direct finish to a climb, either Crow’s Nest Crack or Shattered Crack (both VS 4c) – he’s not entirely sure to this day. Whatever, Geoff led the first pitch and belayed with a sling round a spike. Nev led through and with a bold effort and no protection powered up over a roof to the terrace above – to the astonishment of their hosts who had, in true Creag Dhu style, attempted to sandbag the Sassenachs!

Back in the ‘real’ world he gained a place at King’s College, Durham University to do a four-year mining engineering degree which in-volved alternating years in the classroom and down the pit. He dropped out after two years, however, being ‘...too busy climbing’. In 1959, he was called up for National Service which he spent in Devon with the Durham Light Infantry, stationed at Honiton. Here he helped develop Chudleigh Rocks, indeed did the FA of Inkerman’s Groove (VS 4c) which often features in UKC-type lists of the ‘Best 100 hundred VS in the UK’. He also climbed with Tom Patey, who was also stationed in Devon for his national service.

Over the next decade or so following his return to the NE after military service he didn’t climb a great deal for various reasons, but came back with a bang in the early-mid 70s with FAs such as The Magic Flute (E2 5b), Glass Slipper (VS 5a) and The Witch (E2 5b) at Back Bowden with Malcolm Rowe. His new routing even-tually came to an end (his last new route was Forgotten Wall, VS 5a at The Henhole, climbed in 1982) but he continued to climb around the County, often solo, keeping tabs on the next gener-ation(s) of activists such as John Earl, Bob Hutchinson and the Smith brothers. Although he hardly ever climbs outdoors these days, he has kept up to date with developments with keen inter-est, having, once upon a time, scoped, or even attempted, many of the unclimbed lines.

So if you’re ever climbing at the ‘church wall’ (Newcastle Climbing Centre) and you see a gentleman ‘of a certain age’, dressed rather idiosyncratically in baggy shorts and tracksuit bottoms ploughing his way up and down the self-belay lines, raise your hat to the legendary Nev Hannaby, still going strong at 80.

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Nev Corby Crags mid-70s

Rothbury Quarry Shack, sometime in the 50s

“China cup, Darjeeling tea, red socks, dry rock, whisky can wait” - As written on the back of the photo of Nev at Corby’s

Nev at 60 soloing Tacitation

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Nev on the FA of The Corner, Bowden Doors – note the knotted slings for protection

The Corner

Nev leading Pinnacle Face, Crag Lough, wearing Arvon’s leather kletterschuhe

Pinncale Face

Footnotes

1) As many people know, Mark is building a video and photographic archive of climbing in the County. We both shared an interest in capturing some of Nev’s escapades for posterity and he kindly gave us an audience on a sunny afternoon in late July.

2) Route names often changed between the first ascent and subsequent publication of a guidebook, mostly a result of the paucity of information and lines of communication eg Sunset at Peel was originally known as Zig-Zag and/or The Corner. Nev named his own route to the right Sunset Wall but it was renamed Twin Cracks in the 1964 guide.

3) Salubrious Jacksonville was not, never. At its peak it was still a hovel, albeit with a roof. It had been built on National Trust land without permission. It was left permanently unlocked because no-one in their right minds would stay there uninvited or steal anything (nor, presumably, would a National Trust official dare cause a fuss) such was the fearsome reputation of the Creag Dhu!

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Nev bouldering (before it was ‘cool’) at Rothbury Quarry 1958

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This year Wired’s Lake District Rock scooped up the prestigious ‘Guidebook Award’ at Banff. This is a joint effort between the FRCC, The Lakes-based climbing club and publishers of that great area’s definitive guides, and Wired, a collaborative group of guidebook-producing clubs that was set up in 2014 with the aim of providing the best selective guides to the UK. The aim seems to be working...

This publication replaces the 2003 ‘Selected Climbs’ guide. It contains over 1500 routes on 85 crags. To say that it contains something for everybody is, perhaps, an under-statement. Traditional mountain crags, outcrops, slate and sport climbing receive extensive coverage. Informative maps and clear, high quality photodiagrams should render the process of identifying lines very much easier than was once the case. However, it is, perhaps, unlikely that climbers will be able to view some crags as shown in the photodiagrams. A good example is to be found on page 358 which shows a photodiagram of the North Buttress area of Shepherd’s Crag. Will such a diagram help a climber, unfamiliar with the locale, to identify routes?

The guide has certainly stimulated interest in some of the less familiar parts of the national park. That said, “How best to use the guide?” is not a question easy to answer. Firstly for those (like me!) not used to using modern guide-books it’s worth spending a few minutes reading the sec-tions ‘Using this Guidebook’, ‘Grades’ and (inside the back cover) ‘Photodiagram Key’. The guide ‘weighs in’ at approx-imately 750 gm (that is about the same as the weight of 4 medium sized Camelots together with 4 light-weight car-abiners!) The book measures 21cm x 15cm x 2.5cm and clearly does not fit into the back pocket. Do I want to carry this fine publication up to the crag? Well, yes and no. ‘Yes’ if I were undertaking an outcrop day where the guide could be left at the base of the crag once climbs have been iden-tified. ‘No’ if I were heading up to a mountain crag. In this situation I would recommend scanning the relevant page(s).

An alternative would be to photograph the required text/diagrams using a smart phone. This does not appeal to me personally - rarely do I trust myself to take out my phone whilst on a route! Mobile guidebook apps (as/if they be-come available) might be useful in this context. I’ll stick to the scanning option - I’d rather drop a piece of paper than an expensive phone!

I am pleased I bought a copy of this guide. It will certain-ly have an easily accessible place on my bookshelf and, at the very least, will be consulted prior to any Lake District outing.

Reviewed by Jim Rigg

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I was profoundly shocked by Jon’s death following injuries sustained from a fall whilst hillwalking on Ben Alligin last September. Jon had been a member of the NMC for a couple of years before I really got to know him. I went on

meets where he was climbing with others, mainly Kin Choi and Tim Hakim. That changed in 2005 when I climbed with him on a Peak District meet. Then, at the backend of Au-gust 2005 there was the infamous trip to Fairhead in North-ern Ireland, which is probably worth an article in itself.On the last day of that trip we had to get a ferry early afternoon. Jon wanted to do a long single-pitch E1 on the prow on a cold windy morning and after a late night in the pub. His progress was slow, eventually a couple of climb-ers from the Climbers Club showed up, a long haired bloke and his female climbing partner. With time running out to go and catch the ferry Jon made it to the top and a frozen Bryn soon followed. When asked why he hadn’t backed off when he was finding the climb so hard Jon said that, “He didn’t want to fail with those two chicks watching”. Bryn took great delight in explaining that one of the ‘chicks’ was

a man. It was typical both of his tenacity, and his tendency to put his foot in it sometimes!

Other happy memories include climbing Curved Ridge on a perfect winter’s day in Glencoe, a sunny day at Goat Crag with Jon and Amanda, and climbing on a blistering hot August day at Creag Glas in Strathconon. Jon was always good company, and his competence on rock and on the hill was outstanding. The last time I was on the hill with him was just after New Year 2013. Jon had had a hip operation a few months before and, as his first Munro since that, we did Sgor Gaoith, a straightfor-ward hill above Glen Feshie. Having made the big move up to Scotland with Amanda and their new home complete he was a happy and contented man. I regret having seen so little of him over the last couple of years.

Graham Williams

I first met Jon, as far as I remember, in the autumn of 2001 when he came to volunteer where I was working in order to gain experience for his Summer ML. It soon became clear that he was into climbing and we ended up climbing together as regular partners. This was particularly handy as I was preparing for my MIA assessment and Jon was a willing stooge for trips to multi-pitch crags and really didn’t mind long walk-ins with heavy packs. In May 2002 we had a fantastic

week’s climbing in the Highlands including routes on Rannoch Wall, Glencoe; Poll Dubh crags, Glen Nevis; Creag Dubh of Newtonmore; and Stag Rocks, Loch Avon basin, Cairngorms, followed by a long weekend in June at Shepherd’s ticking off various VS/HVS classics. It was about this time that Jon joined the club. It also turned out that Jon liked hauling heavy packs in winter as well and we had a memorable 4 day trip to Garbh Coire bothy climbing in the Coire of the Chokestone. Memorable for all the wrong reasons really: 1 route in four days (which we both almost fell off), a hovel of a bothy and a snowhole in the Lairig Ghru on the return trip that partially collapsed in the night. But despite all this Jon was his usual, irrepressible self and his endless supply of Fast Show quotes came into their own, “Only a fool would go out in conditions like these…” In 2003 Jon and I had his first alpine climbing trip – to Chamonix, obviously! We went superlightweight and spent most

Jon Trafford1958-2015 photos: Graham Williams

OBITUARY

Jon enjoying the sunshine on Salamander

Creag Glas, Strathconon

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of our week bivvying in the mountains, initially on the Aiguilles Rouges side of the valley (when we were startled awake in the middle of the night, by the mother of all roars, as the American Direct on the Dru opposite collapsed) and then at the Plan de Midi. We did a good collection of routes, with a few scrapes and mishaps along the way, and Jon absolutely loved the Cosmiques Arete, his first mixed alpine route. Over the next few years we developed a cycle of winter and summer trips with Jon steadily working his way up the grades both in summer and winter. By now he had become heavily involved with the club and it wasn’t too long before he was elected onto the committee. Two episodes stand out from this period. Firstly, during a Black Rock Cottage winter meet, the “curious incident of the middle in the night”. Jon really showed his lead-ership skills and concern for others both during the incident and afterwards. In the aftermath of the weekend, Jon argued that the club should run a properly instructed winter skills meet at the start of every winter season so that more experienced club members were never put in the same position again. For those of you who have been on one of the club’s training cours-es, whether summer or winter, you have enjoyed Jon’s legacy – not that he would ever have claimed the credit.

The second episode was his observation during a committee meeting that a certain

prospective female member “certainly had potential”. She certainly did and, dear reader, she married him. Their wedding was a memorable club occasion and the wedding party almost ate the hotel out of food – the hotel staff had to go out and buy more bread to serve the ceilidh guests at one point, and one of the waitresses was overheard wailing to a colleague, “....and they ate ALL the meal as well. There were absolutely no leftovers – that never happens!!”.

With Jon’s retirement from the police in 2008, and a clearly blossoming marriage, they decided to follow their dream to move to the Highlands and start a new life in the outdoors. But others can tell that story better than I can. Tim Hakim

Jon sampling the rock at Goats Crag

Goats Crag, Northumberland

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An early recollection of climbing with Jon was at Wallabarrow Crag in Duddon Valley (on one of the infamous early May Bank Holiday NMC trips). I seconded a tricky upper pitch and yelled for a loop of rope to be taken in whilst on the crux move. My language was pretty choice on emerging at the top. On reflection, I realised that the

problem was more about my poor communication than Jon’s ropework, thankfully we moved on, and Jon proved to be an excellent climbing partner as well as a close friend. He never talked much about his past in the army and his police career, but that military bearing was obvious in the early days of his involvement with the NMC, and Jon said to me more recently that he had become a lot more laid back and relaxed. Maybe it was something to do with finding a new di-rection on retirement at 50, but definitely it was because he found love again with Amanda, and they pursued together the dream to settle in the Scottish highlands. They met in my brother’s front room in Strathpeffer en route to Ullapool, where we set up tents in an Atlantic gale, and Sel and Esther were delighted to be invited to Jon and Amanda’s wedding in Northumberland. There’s no doubt that his organisational and leadership skills helped him to work successfully in outdoor pursuits, and the single-mindedness they both showed in converting an old barn into a beautiful country home impressed all who visited and stayed. I remember staying at Jon and Amanda’s rented house near the A9 one winter, when the barn could not be reached for weeks on end because of the snow, and wondering if the project would ever happen!

John was a competent all-rounder, a fit guy, at home on a road or mountain bike as well as on a rock face. The four-day visit to Fairhead in Northern Ireland, where we climbed to our limit and

Jon tackling the crux of the superb Slip Knot

Slip Knot, White Ghyll

partied beyond it every night in Ballycastle, is one of the stand-out trips of all time for me.Jon was a trusted partner on the crags, sea cliffs and mountains, always willing to share his enjoyment and knowledge of the outdoors and great fun to be with, as well as being one of a close and trusted group of friends. Visits to the Highlands will never be the same, knowing he’s no longer there.

Bryn Roberts

I have nothing but happy memories of Jon. I was once walking towards the NMC club hut in Borrowdale. Jon passed me in the car and noticed my rucksack was lop-sided. As an experienced mountaineer this was irritating to him to say the least! At the hut that evening he announced I had to get my rucksack out, in desperate need of organisation as it was. He made me pull everything out (in public…) get rid of what was not needed then put everything else back in some

semblance of order. I was a fairly new to the club and appreciated the advice. Jon apologised several times for making me empty the rucksack in front of everybody! Amanda, Jon and I laughed about this over the years. I always assured him I wasn’t upset, far from it. I was struck by how apologetic he was and came to appreciate that, although he initially came across as having a ‘rufty tufty’ serious climbers’ exterior, he was a lovely guy and a talented climber and he seemed to gradually relax over the years.

He certainly only had eyes for Amanda once they got together. They had some great Bonfire Night parties in Morpeth and he was always the brave one lighting the fireworks! He was really patient and generous, he taught me so much. He always encouraged me on climbs when he thought I did well, and he frequently reminded me of those times. I am blessed I can say Jon was a great friend and I appreciated his balanced, down to earth opinions and his cracking sense of humour. Sadly missed. Alison Jones

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Jon at the top of Curved Ridge, Glencoe

South-west

wanderings

Author : Lewis Preston Photos : Lewis Preston Collection

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a deserts and canyons quest to the last blank area on the map

69

Another wedding, this time in Snowmass near Aspen. Colorado beckons. The state with 52 peaks over 14,000ft

offers plenty of options for pre or post-adventures. Once the RSVP is posted to my cousin in Seattle the maps are spread out and a circular solo road-trip forms in my head around a Denver return flight and an invitation from ex-NMC Scott, based in Boulder.

Acclimatization for five days of merriment at ‘Base Camp’ Bar in the Viceroy Hotel includes a fell run up to Buckskin Pass at 12,500ft in the Maroon Bells, Frisbee-golf, and volleyball fun on the morning of the ceremony which was conducted in the aspen meadows below Pyramid Peak. My plan now involves solo driving west into Utah south through several National Parks (NP) and back via Arizona to Colorado to a prospect of Boulder Canyon climbing and Rocky Mountain NP mountaineering with Scott. Three weeks in all with no fixed itinerary and no overnights booked anywhere – a ‘freedom-to-roam’ passport!

My first stop, just before nightfall (and wild storm) is a sand-bar on the banks of the Colorado River within sight of the Fishers Towers in NE Utah. The tent stands the test well and I wake refreshed and up for a pre-breakfast swim; the river has not yet cut itself into the famous canyons of downstream and the current is manageable, both across and back with an allowance for unavoidable drift. Packed up, I head off-road up earth tracks to the ‘Towers’. Home advice had counselled against visiting Utah and Arizona deserts in August, but I relished the heat and blue-sky sunshine in contrast to the UK’s overcast temperate climate. The Fisher Towers are vertical pinnacles of seriously eroded sandstone, seemingly unclimbable (which they certainly were to a timid solo explor-er).

Another deluge of afternoon storms sees me sheltering in the Moab Visitor Centre, stocking up with detailed 1:70,000 National Geographic maps, learning there’s no campsites left in Arches NP and thus driving further and higher into Canyonlands NP to sneak onto, and share a pre-permitted camp with a friendly Canadian couple on the ‘Island in the Sky’. Aptly named, this 6000 ft high plateau hovers above the junction of the Colorado and Green Rivers, and I run to the lookout in time to catch the last sunset rays edging the rock precipices that look like they have been excavated by some super-sized ice cream scoop, the rivers remaining invisible in their depths.

After sociable campfire-shared cooking and a Famous Grouse-chilled eve, I suffer a less comfortable sleep on hard strong ground with a deflated mat. I read some geological background to the freak phenomenon of ‘Upheaval Dome’. Not a dome at all, this is a 2 mile di-ameter and 1500ft deep crater with complex double-ringed canyons surrounding underground salt deposits pushing central sandstone pyramids upwards from the depths. The rim viewpoints of the interior attract masses from nearby car parks. I choose the alternative day-long ‘Syncline Loop Trail’ around the outer canyons with detours down Upheaval Canyon towards the Labyrinth camp on Green River and back into the heart of the ‘crater’. I enjoy 8 hours of utter solitude under a relentless burning sun, before a solo camp and star-gaze from the ‘Island in the Sky’ into the Milky Way arching over me.

I am up early and off to play in the Arches National Park, running around like a child in the ‘Garden of Eden’, clambering into caves and onto arches, soloing faces and chasms in the Devil’s Garden and racing back towards the sunset at Fiery Furnace, to drive south into the night before collapsing to sleep near Monticello.

2014.

70

I ENJOY 8 HOURS OF UTTER SOLITUDE UNDER A RELENTLESS BURNING SUN

Cloud reflection in Canyonlands pool’71

Next morning I am heading west on the White Canyon road to Hite (an out-post named after the gold prospector who established a ferry crossing of the Colorado before the downstream damning of the Glen Canyon and forming of Lake Powell.) I cross the arched bridge but note that the reservoir has retreat-ed a mile or more from its high-tide mark. I leave Highway 95 and take a minor road towards Ticaboo, and as evening falls head into the remote Henry Moun-tains on dirt tracks. After a very lonely (and hard) sleep at Al Starr’s Spring

Bryce Canyon Naitonal Park - Balancing above

Bryce Canyon Naitonal Park - Lewis on the edge

72

Near a dried-up part of Lake Powell, Colorado River

campground, I retrace wheels to Ticaboo and Bull Frog (at Hall’s Crossing, abandoned due to drought causing retreating water levels in Lake Powell.)

I am venturing out of my comfort zone as I head NW into the ‘Water Pocket Fold’ of Strike Valley on deteriorating gravel and earth tracks that dip sporad-ically into ‘washes’ (dry or flowing river courses). My anxiety heightens when I meet and speak with a high-clearance 4WD driver retracing his route after a ‘wash’ of unknown depth. Venturing on, I manage this but then later reach a sign reading ‘Flood Area: DO NOT ENTER washes if running.’ I continue and meet no other people as I follow the huge sinuous wrinkle ‘Capital Reef’ that stretches 100 miles across this part of Utah, I find the fork in the track that leads to the Burr Trail Switchbacks, cutting a blasted escape from the Water-fold ‘trench’ up onto the plateau of Grand Staircase Escalante, named after Father Escalante, who with Father Dominguez first explored the area in 1776.

Climbers I had met at the Fisher Towers had ruckled my curiosity for this re-mote area and now almost beyond my wildest expectation I was on the Burr Trail Road, named after explorer John Atlantic Burr who built the track to move

Off-Roading

‘Hole in the Rock’ road, Grand Staircase Escalante

Escape from Slot’s Canyon

73

cattle from the plateau to Bull Frog. I am heading for the 54 mile long cul-de-sac, the ‘Hole in the Rock’ road. This route was engineered by Mormon settlers in 1879 as a way to the Colorado Valley. The Fisher Tower climbers, and Scott, had told me of deep slot canyons, some less than an arm’s width, twisting through eroded plateau-lands. After some 30 miles and several ‘washes’ (luckily all dry), I drive off across a mud-pan plain, the non-existent route signed ‘Dry Fork’. I am searching for ‘Peek-a-Boo’ and ‘Spooky’, two of the more recommended slot can-yons. Without a map or guide, I’m not sure what to expect so pack a rucsac with food, water, stove and bivy gear for an overnight. I take a compass bearing as I lose sight of the abandoned hire car. Remarkably in the middle of this wilderness – I have seen no other human life on the ‘Hole in the rock’ road or on my detour across the mud-plain – I come across a signpost with a permit box where I fill out a duplicate registration form stating my goals and ETA back. The small print states ‘DO NOT sleep outside your tent – snakes and scorpions like warm sleeping bags/bivy bags!!’ I review my overnight provision! Descending into a dry gorge I lose the horizon and am glad of my compass as I search for the entrance to the slot can-yons. I reach an alluvial junction and explore an option. Within yards I am swal-lowed into a water-worn slot with polished overhanging rock barring any chance

THE CANYON IS SO NARROW THAT AT TIMES ONE MUST TURN SIDEWAYS TO SQUEEZE THROUGH

Lewis bouldering in Arches National Park

74

of intermediate exit. The canyon is so narrow that at times one must turn side-ways to squeeze through restrictions. There are shallow pools with squelchy mud and short rock scrambles but none of the deep wading or swimming ob-stacles I had expected. This of course could change in a moment if an after-noon storm hit the plateau and flooded the canyon drainage routes. I am quite relieved to find the upper exit and clamber back to the safety of higher ground and, after a circuitous route, return to the isolated car by nightfall.

Caution in abandoning the bivy-out pays off. I wake in the night as my tent re-ceives a thrashing of a storm lasting until pre-dawn. I try to picture the scene in the slot canyons I explored, and reptiles seeking refuge from drowning in a cosy and dry bivy-bag. My sense of comfort lasts only until I am fully awake when I remember I am miles across a (formerly dry) mud plain which, in turn, is 30 miles down a cul-de-sac with several (yesterday-dry) ‘washes’ draining across the Escalante landscape. I collapse the sodden tent and set off, the underpow-ered, low clearance, automatic gearbox, two-wheel-drive hire car a-slippin’ and a-slidin’, and getting a new livery as glutinous red mud oversprays the origi-nal white paintwork. It is with surprise and relief that I reach the return track and negotiate the ‘washes’ which have drained the flood and are drying in the morning sun. I relax enough to take another detour to the ‘Devil’s Garden’ for a solo explore of the eroded hoodoos and natural arches. I brew coffee and give thanks for my ‘escape’.

The main Highway 12, one of America’s most scenic, is reached. I marvel at the road engineering, (built in the 1930s depression to create employment) across the topmost layer of the Colorado River’s Grand Staircase. Until the 1870s this was the last uncharted territory in continental United States. After successful-ly rafting the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, John Wesley Powell instructed Almon Thompson (his brother-in-law) to lead a four year expedition

Mesa Verde - The Cliff Palace

75

into this ‘Last Blank Spot on the Map’. (It was known, if not mapped, before by the Anasazi First Nationals).

The hours and miles roll by and psychologically I am tolerating my own company on this ’make-it-up-as-you-go-along’ solo road trip. Late afternoon and I am camped within yards of the rim of the amphitheatre of Bryce Can-yon. There is time to explore a wonderland of nature’s finest cathedral architecture: the eroded hoodoos form spires, windows and buttresses, seen from the popular tracks which are named Navajo, Wall Street and Queen’s Garden. In the evening, after my camp-cooked supper, I wander into architect Albert Gilbert Underwood’s luxu-rious redwood ‘lodge’ hotel and write up my journal in leather-sofaed comfort in the trussed-ceilinged lounge.

The scenery is on an even grander scale further west in the Zion National Park, the campground is as stony as ever – my punctured mat useless – but on entry to the main canyon all senses are fully awakened. With reason-able pace it is possible to combine 3 day hikes into one: first I race up the Refrigerator (side) Canyon so as to get back in the sun of the exposed and chained ridge to the natural pulpit ‘Angel’s Landing’ with views both up and down the North Fork Virgin River far below. Leaving the crowds behind I am alone most of the day exploring the West Rim Trail to Lava Point and back in time to enter the main canyon at the Temple of Sinawava and wade against the current, with a pole for balance, up the famous ‘Narrows’ and beyond in fading daylight, up the emp-ty and rather sinister Orderville Canyon, returning in the dark.

I have been travelling nine days, and am approximately a thousand miles from the car-hire base to which I must return in three days’ time. There are two further dreams I had for this trip but not time to visit both. Driving east through the Zion tunnel I am soon at Kanab and the first fork for Grand Canyon’s North Rim Road, but I decide instead to aim for the Mesa Verde. My chosen deserted road leads round to the Vermillion Cliffs and on to re-cross the Colorado River above Marble Canyon. The Glen Canyon Dam here is nearly 600 feet high and the concrete to construct it was poured continuously, 24/7, for 3 years! Behind the dam Lake Powell drowned much of the upper Colorado canyon back to Hite where I had crossed on my westward journey. I can’t resist a swim off the beach of Wahweap. I also hike downstream to the impressive Horseshoe Bend of Glen Canyon. With a full tank of gas I head east across Navajo tribal lands. Hundreds of miles pass without sight of another car, Monument Valley obelisks silhouetted against the setting sun, and total blackness ensues before I reach ‘Four Corners’, the only point in the United States common to four states. Later and tired I book into the Rode-way Inn in Cortez. I am so excited about tomorrow I can hardly sleep.

When the BBC’s Dan Cruikshank set out to visit the ‘Eighty Most Significant Treasures of the World’ for a ten-part documentary series he chose only 4 places on the North American continent, and one of these was Mesa Verde. As an architect I had to experience the hidden cliff-dwellings, constructed centuries before invading Eu-ropeans began their devastation of native America. Multi-storey, carefully cut and mortared stone houses and sacred structures were cleverly defended and concealed part-height in the cliffs of remote canyons. The present Navajo refer to these ancestors as the Anasazi or ‘ancient ones’, but no-one knows why they abandoned their ingenious cliff ‘cities’, which then remained undiscovered for c700 years. An hour’s drive up onto the Mesa of the National Park reveals a ‘treasure’ indeed for this still-learning architecture student. It is 3pm before I begin another 300+ mile drive through Durango and north into the San Juan mountains, over three 11,000ft passes, skirting Colorado’s ‘Snowdon’ (13, 097ft), down the 1882-3 ‘Million Dollar Highway’ toll road through the Uncompahgre Valley. Finally I find a campsite high in the Grand Mesa National Forest. I cook under a full moon, overlooking Ward Lake before sleep.

I complete my ‘grand circular’ road-trip next day and board the double-decker super-liner San Francisco-Chica-go train for 8 hours of its three-day crossing of the US. I have been told these are the most spectacular miles of this Amtrak route, following the course of the infant Colorado River into the heart of the Rockies, across high plateaux, waiting in a siding for the westward train to pass on the single track. Then through the lengthy Mof-fat Tunnel, finally brakes-squealing down the Eldorado Canyon and into Denver’s ornate and newly refurbished Union Station. It is late before I reach Boulder and finally knock on the door of one-time NMC member Scott. We have approximately 15 years of catching up to do. Having lived a mainly solo existence these last 12 days, I am buzzing for the chance to share his company and a rope in and beyond Boulder’s climbing mecca. But the best laid plans....... To Be Continued.

Double Arches in Canyonlands Nation Park

76

into this ‘Last Blank Spot on the Map’. (It was known, if not mapped, before by the Anasazi First Nationals).

The hours and miles roll by and psychologically I am tolerating my own company on this ’make-it-up-as-you-go-along’ solo road trip. Late afternoon and I am camped within yards of the rim of the amphitheatre of Bryce Can-yon. There is time to explore a wonderland of nature’s finest cathedral architecture: the eroded hoodoos form spires, windows and buttresses, seen from the popular tracks which are named Navajo, Wall Street and Queen’s Garden. In the evening, after my camp-cooked supper, I wander into architect Albert Gilbert Underwood’s luxu-rious redwood ‘lodge’ hotel and write up my journal in leather-sofaed comfort in the trussed-ceilinged lounge.

The scenery is on an even grander scale further west in the Zion National Park, the campground is as stony as ever – my punctured mat useless – but on entry to the main canyon all senses are fully awakened. With reason-able pace it is possible to combine 3 day hikes into one: first I race up the Refrigerator (side) Canyon so as to get back in the sun of the exposed and chained ridge to the natural pulpit ‘Angel’s Landing’ with views both up and down the North Fork Virgin River far below. Leaving the crowds behind I am alone most of the day exploring the West Rim Trail to Lava Point and back in time to enter the main canyon at the Temple of Sinawava and wade against the current, with a pole for balance, up the famous ‘Narrows’ and beyond in fading daylight, up the emp-ty and rather sinister Orderville Canyon, returning in the dark.

I have been travelling nine days, and am approximately a thousand miles from the car-hire base to which I must return in three days’ time. There are two further dreams I had for this trip but not time to visit both. Driving east through the Zion tunnel I am soon at Kanab and the first fork for Grand Canyon’s North Rim Road, but I decide instead to aim for the Mesa Verde. My chosen deserted road leads round to the Vermillion Cliffs and on to re-cross the Colorado River above Marble Canyon. The Glen Canyon Dam here is nearly 600 feet high and the concrete to construct it was poured continuously, 24/7, for 3 years! Behind the dam Lake Powell drowned much of the upper Colorado canyon back to Hite where I had crossed on my westward journey. I can’t resist a swim off the beach of Wahweap. I also hike downstream to the impressive Horseshoe Bend of Glen Canyon. With a full tank of gas I head east across Navajo tribal lands. Hundreds of miles pass without sight of another car, Monument Valley obelisks silhouetted against the setting sun, and total blackness ensues before I reach ‘Four Corners’, the only point in the United States common to four states. Later and tired I book into the Rode-way Inn in Cortez. I am so excited about tomorrow I can hardly sleep.

When the BBC’s Dan Cruikshank set out to visit the ‘Eighty Most Significant Treasures of the World’ for a ten-part documentary series he chose only 4 places on the North American continent, and one of these was Mesa Verde. As an architect I had to experience the hidden cliff-dwellings, constructed centuries before invading Eu-ropeans began their devastation of native America. Multi-storey, carefully cut and mortared stone houses and sacred structures were cleverly defended and concealed part-height in the cliffs of remote canyons. The present Navajo refer to these ancestors as the Anasazi or ‘ancient ones’, but no-one knows why they abandoned their ingenious cliff ‘cities’, which then remained undiscovered for c700 years. An hour’s drive up onto the Mesa of the National Park reveals a ‘treasure’ indeed for this still-learning architecture student. It is 3pm before I begin another 300+ mile drive through Durango and north into the San Juan mountains, over three 11,000ft passes, skirting Colorado’s ‘Snowdon’ (13, 097ft), down the 1882-3 ‘Million Dollar Highway’ toll road through the Uncompahgre Valley. Finally I find a campsite high in the Grand Mesa National Forest. I cook under a full moon, overlooking Ward Lake before sleep.

I complete my ‘grand circular’ road-trip next day and board the double-decker super-liner San Francisco-Chica-go train for 8 hours of its three-day crossing of the US. I have been told these are the most spectacular miles of this Amtrak route, following the course of the infant Colorado River into the heart of the Rockies, across high plateaux, waiting in a siding for the westward train to pass on the single track. Then through the lengthy Mof-fat Tunnel, finally brakes-squealing down the Eldorado Canyon and into Denver’s ornate and newly refurbished Union Station. It is late before I reach Boulder and finally knock on the door of one-time NMC member Scott. We have approximately 15 years of catching up to do. Having lived a mainly solo existence these last 12 days, I am buzzing for the chance to share his company and a rope in and beyond Boulder’s climbing mecca. But the best laid plans....... To Be Continued.

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Author : John Vaughan Photos : John Vaughan Collection

BALANCING PLEASURE

AND

PAIN

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BALANCING PLEASURE

AND

PAIN

79

More recently, my current GP was rather more dismissive when I went to see her about my deteriorating wrist and finger

joints, asking me ‘If I suggested you stop climbing, would you listen to me?’ When I replied ‘Probably not’, she just shrugged her shoulders and said ‘Well, that’s why I’m not going to tell you what to do - just keep taking the tablets’.

It seems to me these exchanges neatly encapsulate the dilemma that almost all climbers encounter at some point as we test the limits of our physical and mental capabilities on wall, rock or ice. Over the years I’ve done a broad range of other ‘outdoor sports’ as well as climbing, including running, caving, mountain biking, road cycling and more general mountaineering. In the course of those activities I’ve suffered both traumatic injuries (broken arms, stress fractures, damaged knees etc.) and more chronic degradation through overuse and longer-term wear and tear. When I was young, accidents happened but they were always ‘things that could be fixed’. I would recover and bounce back reasonably quickly, getting ‘back in the game’ and pushing the limits of performance once more, focussed on the moment and heedless of future consequences. At some point (it’s difficult to pinpoint exactly when) I moved beyond that carefree youthful insouciance and began to feel the impact of the accumulated damage generated by years of bodily abuse. These days I’m cautious enough that I rarely suffer traumatic damage but instead have become a bundle of aching joints and chronic injuries that can never really be ‘fixed’ but need continuing care and management. Daily life is full of creaks and groans and Voltarol and Ibuprofen have become my constant companions!!! I’ve never been super-powerful or technically gifted but I like to think I’m a reasonably competent climber. I’ve definitely passed my prime but am still keen and still a bit competitive. More

importantly, climbing is a major part of ‘who I am’ and ‘what I do’. So I try to keep myself fit, strong and active. Apart from regular cardio-vascular work on the road bike, mostly I just train for climbing by ‘doing it’ but every so often I’ll get some dedicated strength or technique coaching to see if I can realise a bit more performance from my dwindling reserves. And equally often I’ll pick up a minor injury - tennis elbow, a sore wrist or tweaked finger joint. Usually this happens when I’m heading for a sport climbing trip and move from two wall sessions a week to three. In response, I back off, reduce the frequency and intensity of training, consult my physio and do some appropriate rehab stretches and exercises until the problem settles down. The one thing I almost never do is stop climbing completely. So you can imagine my immediate reaction when, some months ago, my physiotherapist told me bluntly: ‘Stop... Now...’ The problem was a progressive pain in both shoulders that made it increasingly difficult to pull hard and lock off without severe pain in the upper arms. I first noticed the problem at Harrogate wall, reaching high above my head for a smallish side-pull, stepping high with the opposite foot and trying to rock over to complete the move. I fell off, unable to complete the move through the sudden pain. That was the end of that session as the pain subsided to a dull ache but recurred each time I tried to lift my arm above shoulder height. As before, I slackened my training regime. The pain gradually subsided but would recur each time I visited the wall and pushed too hard. I found myself avoiding certain types of route, particularly those featuring long pulls through overhangs on small crimps. It was deeply frustrating, particularly in the face of a number of planned climbing trips.

Then a friend offered me a free place on a Neil Gresham technique coaching day - what’s not to like?? However, come the day, it transpired that rather than ‘technique’, the session would focus on ‘training’, based on the idea that the

A previous GP once told me, in response to a question about how much longer I might continue running and mountaineering onmy increasingly arthritic hip, ‘When the pain you suffer becomes greater than the pleasure you get from the activity, then you’ll stop’...

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main limiting factor for your maximum climbing grade was almost certainly finger and arm strength rather than footwork or technique: ‘if you can’t hang the holds, you’re not in the game’. OK, I should have stopped there and then but you know how it is– let’s just see how we get on. Not a good decision. Suffice it to say I got drawn into 2 hours of finger and campus board work of increasing difficulty. I could feel the strain but thought: ‘that’s OK, I’ll just have a few days off to let the muscles recover’. Wrong again - a week later and I could hardly reach up to the top shelf of my bookcase to get a bottle of whisky down without my arm screaming with pain. The discomfort was much worse at night when it became difficult to find a com-fortable position in which to sleep without compressing my shoulder joints. So off to the physio and the aforementioned instruction to: ‘Stop...Now...’ The diagnosis was straightforward - stand with my arms by my sides, keep my arms straight and slowly raise each arm until it was above my head, then lower it slowly. This generated an ‘arc of severe pain’ from about 45 degrees upto 135 degrees, above which the pain sub-sided until the arm was vertical. The pain was worse on the way down and much worse with any weight in my hand. I had a classic ‘sub-acromial shoulder impingement’ in which part of my rotator cuff, the group of muscles and associated tendons and ligaments that stabilise the shoulder joint, had become badly inflamed and swollen. As I lifted my arms the head of the humerus was catching and compressing the inflamed tis-sues of the supraspinatus muscle and tendon against the acromial arch on my scapula, causing severe pain and aggravating the damage. A bit of research suggested it’s a common problem with climbers, swimmers, tennis players and decorators - anyone who regularly works their arms above their shoulders. In my case the physio identified the main

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cause as overdevelopment of the large rhomboid muscles in my upper back, leading to a hunched posture, tightened shoulder joints and limiting the ability of my shoulder blades to move and rotate freely as I raised my arms. So what now? The first prescription was 4 weeks off all physical activity combined with some simple proprioception exercises while the pain and inflammation subsided. Then a further 4 weeks off with a programme of simple stretching exercises designed to loosen both shoulder joints and stretch my shortened chest muscles, repositioning the shoulder and releasing the shoulder blades to allow the joints to operate more freely. This was combined with a series of Theraband exercises to strengthen the antag-onist muscles in the arms and shoulders and some manipulation, massage and needling of the upper back muscles to reduce their tightness and rigidity. All this meant over 8 weeks off climbing and cycling, followed by a very gradual return to work on the wall, backing off each time I felt any pain and continuing the rehabilitation programme. The frustration was in-tense as I watched my climbing and cycling partners pushing on and getting stronger on 6bs and 6cs while I regressed to 5s and 5+s. I would go to the wall for ‘social visits’ and come away depressed and discontent-ed with not being able to climb. Even when I did gradually begin to improve there was still a mental block about pushing into potentially painful situations. I struggled between taking painkillers to allow me to ‘get on and do it’ and the more sensible option of reading the pain and adapting my climbing to suit.

So where am I now? The pain is much less than it was but it’s still there, sometimes quite strong but mainly just dull and achy, although it still hurts to get that whisky bottle down off the shelf. I’m still doing the stretches and exercises, although inevitably not as conscientiously as I should. I’m still hesitant about certain types of climbing that involve high crimps and side-pulls or 90 degree lock-offs. I’m still drawn into overdoing it every so often on the wall and regretting my lack of self-control. But at least I’m ‘back in the game’, even if there are limitations on my ability and ambition.

I’m just back from an autumn trip to Kalymnos - a severe test of bodily condition in anyone’s book. I man-aged to climb on six out of 9 days, with one full rest day and two days of rough walking on the brilliant new Kalymnos Trail. Real rock isn’t as harmful as wall climbing but as time progressed my shoulders gradually became painful enough that I started to steer clear of more brutal steep tufa routes in favour of technical wall and slab climbs. I consumed a lot of Ibuprofen and rubbed in a lot of Voltarol to ease the discomfort. On our final day I was lured into a top-rope ascent of a crimps 4* classic wall climb - Prophet Andreus (7a). It was hard, right at my limit, but as I clawed and grunted my way upward and it slowly became clear that I might actually crack it, the adrenalin kicked in and the balance between pleasure and pain tilted in favour of success. As I pulled through the second crux (a high crimps sidepull and rockover!) my shoulders screamed. But by then it was too late, the chain was within reach with easier (but still hard) moves to the belay. Cue a small ‘whoop’ of triumph - not bad for an ‘owd gadgee’!!! Success and agony is a strange com-bination but I’m gradually getting used to the idea that the underlying problem isn’t likely to go away and the future will be a continuing exercise in balancing pleasure and pain...

Whether about rock-climbing (trad or sport), bouldering, winter climbing or hill-walking, or indeed anything to do with ‘the great outdoors’, especially Northumberland. Contribu-tions from new members are particularly welcome.

It doesn’t have to be a ‘story’ either, so for example a report about a visit to a new location, or a new take on an old one would fit the bill. Reviews of guides or books, films or festivals are welcome. From time to time people submit mainly photographs (see below) accompanied by only the briefest of text, and these can be published as a ‘photo-essay’. And don’t limit yourself to prose in responding to your inner muse - poems are also welcome.

The Editor would be happy to discuss ideas for articles, comment on rough drafts, or work with you to produce the finished article.

Regarding photographs, please send as high a resoultion as possible, although photos, depending on format, may need to be resized. If you are using other peoples’ photos in your article, please ensure you have sought permission.

Please contact the Editor at and/or send submission to:john.spencer@ncl.ac.uk

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