Scale.

The longer I spend here the more I find my preconceptions are changing. Scale is an interesting thing. I spent four years basically studying it and in the end I was more confused than when I began. Scale applies everywhere and I suppose in terms of climbing if you look on a small scale you can end up limiting yourself. I think I still have some slight uni-club/ Irish climbing preconceptions. A friend once told me I'd never climb harder than E1. The same friend also told me it'd be a long time before I'd climb Lightning Crack in Lough Dan while I was standing at the bottom looking up the route. I agreed and walked away that day but came back a couple of months later and on-sighted it. It was a small mental victory and my ideas of what I might be able to do slowly changed. A lot of the time in the Irish climbing community there's a reluctance to go somewhere in case it rains. The farthest high quality crags Fairhead and The Burren are maybe four hours from Dublin and most people won't make a trip if the weather's iffy because its considered a long way to go. I remember when growing up it was considered a long way to go to Dublin from home. It was only an hour and a half! Suddenly things in Ireland seemed close as we were going on seven hours driving to get to Aviemore for a few days climbing last week! Over here I wonder sometimes how I didn't manage to do more back in Ireland.

Hitting some snow somewhere inside the Scottish border after 7 hours.

I'd been annoying Greg and Will all week asking for conditions updates. Knowing what the weather had been doing it was a hard decision to make to head up. Its a long way to go to sit in a house in Aviemore. Luckily with Greg in Dundee and Will based in Aviemore for a few months the decision was a bit easier. After four hours sleep in the car myself and Will Hardy were walking into Sneachda with Belhaven in mind as Will Sim had done it the day previous and reckoned it was in good enough condition.

We got slightly cluster fucked. Probably for several reasons. Cold, lack of sleep and lack of experience. Also the amazing weather in Wales last year allowed me to forget the suffering involved! It was the hardest route either of us had tried. I went for a standard easy winter route amount of extenders and took ten not thinking that there could be lots of gear if needed up the top corner. After I handed the lead over to Will he got stopped fairly quickly unwilling to commit to a short slightly technical wall. We switched again and I took back over. I committed to the hooks, got my feet on and stepped up. With my arm locked off I dredged an axe through the snow at the top of the short wall. Nothing was catching so  I swung it at a corner. It stuck in something hidden by the snow. I committed and pulled myself up using my knees. There was a bit of groveling! I continued to the base of the main corner and stuck in a belay. Again I gave the lead over to Will. About fifteen meters up he realised that he didn't have enough extenders to continue. There was a convenient thread so we abbed. I was too tired and cold to be messing around so the decision was made pretty quickly.

Lots of food and sleep later we were walking into Sneachda again. I got dizzy and my eyes couldn't focus. I went back down.

I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to get much out of the few days so when Will Sim suggested dragging us up Magic Crack I didn't mind the idea. My confidence in myself has defiantly been improved before by being dragged up harder routes by Will and I was also interested to see what is required to climb Scottish VII, 7.

The next day dawned on the walk in. The wind blew, the snow fell and the route was out of condition. We decided to look at The Message on Mess of Pottage. Will headed up the first pitch to put us at the bottom of the groove.

Will Sim heading up the first pitch of The Message.

Looking up from the belay I knew I wanted the next pitch. Nice looking climbing up a groove. It was deceptively accommodating looking but I knew there must be a well protected sting in the tail. I geared up and started climbing.

Bridged in the groove I looked at the gear cluster at my waist. There was a peg out high on the left. The footholds and hooks on the right wall disappeared. The torque and hook on the left wall were amazing but it overhung. I could see the footholds out left. Fairly big and friendly, calling like a siren song. But it was steep, slightly overhanging. I didn't want to go out there. I glanced at the guys and thought they must be cursing me at this stage. Spin drift was pouring down and the wind was blowing the falling snow up the crag. Four meters from glory. Practically a tech 6 boulder problem. "Don't make me go out there," I thought, "please! NO!"  The demons were laughing. I stuck a tentative foot out high and left. The other foot followed and I was committed. Trusting the left hook I removed the right axe from the bomber torque. That was the worst bit. I continued pulling. Onto the easy ground. Relief. I drank in the air like a free diver breaking the surface. I don't understand why I always forget to breathe! I felt ill. I brought the guys up and Will Hardy finished up a nice pitch of climbing to the top.

Will Hardy about to go left!

So scale. Success on few meters of tech 6. Insignificant in terms of climbing but the psychological boundaries have moved a bit again. Not too long until the States now, apparently the conditions are looking good for this time of year.