The Siren

Thwunk. The rock, remarkably similar in size and shape to a rugby ball smashed into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. The twenty something kilo pack on my back accentuated this, pushing me into the ground. “I don’t care if Cerro bloody Torre is at the end of this valley.” I thought, “I am never walking up here again.”

*

It is the middle of January, Matt Burdekin and I are walking along the side of Laguna Torre on our way into the Torre Valley. The ground beneath our feet is hideously loose and as a result progress is unfeasibly slow. We’ve been in Patagonia for around three weeks now and have managed to climb a couple of the smaller spires and have failed to climb Fitzroy twice.

Many hours later we arrive at the Nunatek, a rock dome sticking out of the Torre Glacier, and our home for the night. Matt, always the homemaker, sets to clearing a ledge and building walls. I collect water, brew up and prepare our freeze dried dinners.  Few words are spoken as we both work away, before settling down for the night. Our alarm is set for 4:30.

A couple of hours after dark the wind picks up and it starts to rain gently.  I snuggled down, grateful for the waterproof outer on my sleeping bag. Matt’s less fortunate, he has just an ordinary sleeping bag and is starting to get wet. He manages to fashion some sort of shelter by wrapping himself in our bothy bag, which seems to do the trick. It still raining when our alarm goes off so we stay in bed. Eventually the sun warms our bodies and starts to dry our kit. At around 8 we begin to stir and start getting ready. By 9 we are slogging up the Torre Glacier. Soon we branch off leftward towards Bifida. The crevasses and the snow bridges are huge. Probably the biggest I have ever tried to navigate through. We tiptoe through them with the sixty metres of rope between us, knowing that if it goes wrong it will go really wrong and wishing we’d gotten our planned early start.

Eventually, around noon, the base of the wall is reached. Our planned line of ascent follows a shallow chimney. The line is so obvious we are unsure as to why it hasn’t been previously ascended. Matt leads off apprehensively, expecting difficult climbing but it all goes smoothly. The initial chimney is about Severe. Soon we’re swinging leads up the huge slab. There is plenty of loose rock about, but underneath is solid granite. Matt and I, expecting difficult climbing had packed enough supplies for three days on the face and had brought along a huge rack, including all sorts of aid climbing esoterica, and a haul bag.  Thankfully this was mostly redundant and the climbing was mostly never harder than VS.

After thirteen pitches of climbing, shortly before nightfall, we joined the existing route, Cogan and found a convenient ledge. Matt busied himself the ledge palatial, while I melted endless snow. The night was clear and still. After a freeze dried dinner we both slept soundly.

We awoke the next morning to more perfect weather. Leaving most of our gear on the ledge we climbed up, down, then up again, on less than ideal rock to join the South Ridge. Here Matt led four tricky pitches, on wet but otherwise excellent rock that were the cruxes of the climb. These led to the summit of Aguja Bifida Sur, with views stretching across the vast Southern Patagonian Ice Cap.

All too soon we were on our way down again, abseiling back our line of our ascent. After a straightforward descent we arrived back at our advanced camp shortly before dark. Being alone watching night fall with Cerro Torre on the right and Fitzroy on the left, with not a breath of wind, will stay with me for a long time.

Matt and I are indebted to the following organisations who supported our trip: Mount Everest Foundation, British Mountaineering Council, Austria Alpine Club, Crux, Edelrid and Mountain House. Without your support the trip would not have been possible. Thanks a lot. 

Matt questing up new ground on Bifida. Fitzroy in the background. 

Burdy leading the probable crux of The Siren.

Burdy on our palacial bivi ledge.  

Me leading easy ground on Cogan on day two.

Burdy about to reach the summit. 

Matt, me (and Ueli the wolf) on the summit.

The line of our route. (c) Rolo Garibotti.

That was 2015

2015 has been another good year and I've been lucky enough to climb a stack of great routes. The year started well with Nikki and I climbing that standard route on Neilion, on Mount Kenya, on January 3.

Nikki near the top of Neilion.

Once back home I spent all my weekend's (I only missed one weekend between the middle of January and Easter) winter climbing in Scotland. Needless to say I managed to a fair bit done. Highlights included getting dragged up the Shield Direct in a storm by Pete; climbing Crowberry Gully and Route Major with Nikki and a perfect weekend in Lochaber, climbing Northeast Buttress and Stand and Deliver with Tim. 

Pete at the top of the Shield Direct

Nikki pleased to be back at the car after Route Major.

Tim on a bizarrely desserted Northeast Buttress. Every other route on the Ben was rammed.

Me trying to control the pump on Stand and Deliver on Anoch Beag.

In May, Nikki and I with our good friends Heather and Jonny climbed the Old Man of Hoy. Our slightly ambitious plan was to climb three sea stacks (Hoy, Stoer and Am Buachaille) in a four day round trip from Sheffield. The four of us successfully managed Hoy; Heather, Jonny and I managed to struggle our way up Stoer in the drizzle; but bad weather and a lack of moral fibre meant we weren't sufficiently motivated to attempt Am Buachaille in the rain.

Nikki and I scope out The Old Man of Hoy. 

On the top. Left to right: Nikki, Me, Heather, Jonny. 

Another great day out in May, and no pushover, was the Stanage VS challenge. This involves climbing the 36 routes that are graded Very Severe in the 1989 guide book. Tim and I had blast doing them all in slightly under eleven hours. 

Tim and I at the top of Crab Crawl - The final climb of the challenge.

For Nikki 2015 has been mainly about suffering. She has undertaken a load of gruelling challenges to raise money and awareness for male cancer. (Her dad was diagnosed with testicular cancer last year.) You can read more about her suffering here and can donate here. June saw two of her most bonkers challenges. First, she attempted to bike from Lands End to John O'Groats on her own in seven days, failing 55 miles from the end due to illness. Second, she became to the first woman in the UK to 'Everest' a hill. For those of you not in the know, Everesting involves biking up, and down, a hill until the the vertical relief of Everest is achieved. Nikki choose Froggatt in the Peak and biked up and down it 38 times in just under 25 hours. In other news I lead Comes the Dervish my first E3.

Nikki back in Sheffield after almost LEJOG.

Nikki midway through "Everesting" Froggatt.

Me leading Comes the Dervish.

In July Nikki and I headed to the Alps for a two week holiday. Unfortunately it was unseasonable hot and Nikki was unbelievable tired, after her Ironman the week before, so the trip was less productive than I'd hoped. That said Matt and I had a great trip up the S Ridge of Aiguille Noire de Peuterey, including an impromptu night of snuggling. At the end of the trip Nikki climbed the Allalinhorn, her first four thousand metre peak. 

Matt low down on the S Ridge of the Noire. 

Matt enjoying his shiver bivi.

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August was another productive month for rock. Highlights included: a brilliant evening doing Nightmare of Brown Donkeys at High Tor with Dunc; went on an afterwork soloing rampage at Bowden Doors; climbed the Lakeland classic Gillercombe Buttress with Nikki and did the chosstastically brilliant Fantam B on the Lleyn Peninsular with Josh. 

Duncan reacquainting himself with trad climbing on Nightmare of Brown Donkeys. 

Bowden - I can't believe I'd never climbed in the County before.  

Nikki at the top of Gillercombe Buttress. 

Josh taking in some of the best Choss the Llyen can offer. 

In September Nikki went back to finish the last day of LEJOG; Dad and I had a brilliant weekend climbing mountain routes in Scotland and I had a week of holiday in the Alps. 

Good things come to those who wait. Nikki at John O'Groats.

Dad half way up the Pause. About twelve pitches through our 16 pitch day on the Etive Slabs.

Me looking down Loch Avon after climbing the Needle on Shelterstone Crag.

Will and me on the Rebuffat Gully on the Tour Ronde. 

Will, Heather and Me on the summit of the Tour Ronde. 

H-Flo styling on the S Face of the Midi.

In early October Nikki swam the length of Ullswater while Dad and I canoed beside her.

Nikki swimming like a fish. 

Two weeks ago I finished working for First Ascent and headed to Scotland for a week of winter climbing with Hamish. Unfortuantley after three days a big thaw set in, curtailing our plans. I can't complain too much as one of those was a day of near perfect weather in the North West Highlands. 

Hamish enjoying the sensations of Deep Throat.

Me climbing Central Buttress on Beinn Eighe. 

Hamish getting grumpy because it is getting dark.

Pete in his element.

On Boxing Day I'm heading here for Six weeks. Should be great. 

Hopefully the weather will be like this...

Father and son

I've been to write this for months, but I've only recently got the pictures from the weekend from my Dad.

* 

Back in September I had a quite simply brilliant weekend rock climbing in Scotland with my Dad. I was really lucky that my Dad introduced to climbing at quite a young age. He took me a few times and I hated it, especially heights and being lowered. Thankfully he didn't put any pressure on me and left me to play with lego for a few more years. Then when I was around twelve or thirteen something changed. For some reason I started to want to go climbing and started pestering him to take me all the time. Not much has changed since and we've enjoyed many great routes together over the years: Troutdale Pinnacle; Kippling Groove; a Dream of White Horse; Zero Gully; the Hornli Ridge; Astral Stroll - you get the idea. 

I bunked off work early on Friday and drove up to Dad's. We got in his car and continued up to a damp Glen Nevis, where we pitched the tent. The next morning it wasn't raining but it was very humid and looked as though precipitation to could begin at any moment. Ever the optimists we headed to Etive Slabs. Arriving at the Coffin Stone it was humid and the midges were out in force. The only route that looked vaguely dry was The Long Reach. I started up the bold first pitch with trepidation. Thankfully it all went to the plan and by the top of the second pitch the sun was out, the humidity had dropped and a gentle breeze was keeping the midges at bay. The rest of the route flew by. Though going off route on the penultimate pitch and doing 5b padding moves with gear a long, long way below me was rather exciting. 

Soon we were back at the Coffin Stone to find that the rest of the crag had dried out nicely. We decided to nip up the Pause to finish the day, which was almost as good. With sixteen pitches now in my arms the last pitch (which is also climbed on the Long Reach) felt substantially harder than it hard earlier in the day.

The next day we climbed the Needle on Shelterstone crag. Possibly the best mountain E1 I have ever climbed. Nine brilliant pitches on one Scotland best crags. 

Unfortunately at around midnight on Sunday evening my car, with nearly 240k on the clock, decided to die on the side of the A1. I suppose you can't have everything.

Ready for bed on Friday night.

A bold pitch one on a damp Long Reach.

Dad padding.

Dead on lead on the Long Reach.

Me on the crux of The Long Reach. Actually I was off route on the Long Wait.

A now dry Pause.

Dad on the Pause.

Dad approaching the Crevasse belay.

Re-racking in Riasg.

Me looking colourful underneath Hell's Lum.

Shelterstone Crag.

Ptarmigans

Dad on the Needle.

High on the Needle.

Loch Avon 

Happy Dad.

Me leading the last but one pitch. 

Top of the crag. 

R.I.P after five years of faithful service.