The Perfect Storm.
Submitted by: Iain Miller
From the icy wastelands of the worlds largest indoor climbing fridge arrived our humble hero in the form of ice lord Noble Brother Philip Steven's, hense forth known as Chuck.
Carrying only the largest dry bag known to Mankind or hero travelled South then West to arrive in the promised land known to the mortals as Dun na Gall.
Upon our hero's arrival, we immediately set sail to the distant island of Arainn Mhor where our hosts awaited our intentions.
Our hosts being the leviathons that stand guard off this islands Western freeboard, being guarded by an ampitheatre of monster 150m cliffs for many Km's in both directions these beasts demand upmost respect as does the violent seas that batter this coast.
Anyway's, we parked the car in the middle of a bog many miles from anywhere and carried the toys to the clifftops. A brief daly down the most likely descent found us back on the clifftops heading North. A couple of KM's later we were once again descending these monster cliff's, SUCCESS we were water borne! Alas it was an ULTRA committing 2KM paddle through a couple of channels and along the base of the ampitheatre to the seaward face of our intent.
ALAS, ALAS, ALAS Neptune was holding court and the only port on the beast was unapproachable and most DEFO unlandable, oh how we tried, and tried, and tried.
We headed back the way we had came and landed (not without a tad of shenanigans) on the 50m stack to the North.
At this juncture we were "stranded" on the base of a monster, wind and sea defending the 1KM way home with admirable violence. So we climbed the stack, a 55m V.Diff up the South face followed by a 85m Hard Severe up the North Face. HURRA!
Alas Neptune, aided and abetted by the Mighty Oden, found us in huge seas and as decreeded in the lore of the ancients, the wind was in attendance, the seas were beginning to smoke.
We were, as the Americans, would say "In the Shit!" HURRA, welcome to the point in life where you realise you are a fool, BUT having considerable fun, never the less! :-)
We had mildly disrespected the forces of nature and as such nature was kicking our pert bottoms! :-(
And so, once more we travelled the KM back into the Cauldron at the base of the monster cliffs. We landed at the base of a truly monsterous 200m ridge/arete rising out the sea and continuing to the highest point of the cliff.
It was now, what the masses call Tea time or early evening, we had been doing battle for a shade over 12 hours.
And thus we began to ascend this truly awesome ridge in what can easily be considered to be in a 110% committing location. I'll spare you the details of the climb as it would "blow the onsight?" Cha, Cha! :-) Suffice to say 110% commitment, 110%focus are the key to success! HURRA!
And sho we set sail once again to arrive on the fabled island of Toraigh, but that ladies and Gentlemen of the jury is an entirely different tale, altogether.........
As perhaps a wee post script, I'm getting too old for this shit!
23 Jul 2009
Too old, but as long as you still have that pert bottom you're welcome in the Colmcillers.