And so it came to pass that Margaret Q, Eugene and myself gathered at Bamba’s coffee van at the crown, the plan being to reacquaint ourselves with two of Malin Head’s classics, then paddle out to Glashedy island in the afternoon. Dawson’s Diedre came first, and we used the corner on the left at the top as an exit, which is much better and safer. Then we did The Cutting Lizard, (or Lizard Edge), at a gallop as Eugene had a date, and had to be away for one o’clock. More coffee at the van, then off to Carrickabraghy where Derek was trying to squeeze into his wet suit and awaiting our arrival. The paddle across was almost flat calm, and we continued around the island, through some reefs, and suddenly we could hear singing, quite harmonious, and my first thought was, “What are the Henry Girls doing out here?” It was the Glashedy Seal Voice Choir, and they broke off rehearsals to come and have a look at us. After circumnavigating the island, we beached on some stones, and this is where we met the giraffe. Those of you that have read Conan Doyle’s ‘The Lost World’ will be aware that species survive and indeed evolve in remote places cut off from the rest of the world (like Glashedy) and such was the case with the Glashedy Giraffe. Well suited to the geography, it can stand on the beach and graze the vegetation from the top off the cliffs. The GG has evolved a distinctive eroded head due to continuous and voracious attack by nesting sea birds who disapprove of its activities. In the interests of anthropology, I decided to bring a specimen home, tied a bit of fisherman’s rope around its neck, and towed it behind the kayak. Not entirely sure whether it was swimming or just walking, but when it emerged from the sea it caused a bit of a stir with the tourists. Getting it to stay on the roof rack was more of a problem, as every time I got two legs on, the other two were off. Good thing there were no low bridges on the way back to Culdaff. It seems to be settling in well here, clearing the moss off the roof, and I have plans to use it for crag cleaning at Glenagivne and elsewhere
Glenagivney Keeps On Giving
A few bods had shown interest in the Music House Crag just along the coast from Glenagivney. So on a fine sunny Saturday morning Alastair and I set off from Omagh. The sun continued to shine until just past the turning at Moville where it disappeared behind a bank of thick sea mist, never to reappear. The lanes leading to the parking space didn’t look familiar in the thick mist.
We waited around at the and soon the mist began to lift enough for us to check the sea was in the right place. Liam and Lucia soon appeared although they had hidden themselves behind the black bales for a while – alternative parking.
We enjoyed the high water boulder hop approach to the Music House Crag. Type 2 enjoyment, only truly savoured after the event. Although the sea mist didn’t leave all day the rock was perfectly dry, the friction excellent and the crag kept its reputation as midge free. Liam and Lucia found the quality of the rock and protection on Bootleg both excellent and confirmed the grade at HS. Maybe worth a star perhaps. A lesson in what can sometimes be found under the veg, see the before pic of Alan on the first ascent of ginger Lady.
Alastair got the second ascent of Caruso, surely the classic of the crag but sadly missing from the topo. Maybe if it was more visible then the crag would get more visitors. Everyone agreed this is a fantastic line and a three star route. The grade is a solid VS – although Lee took a star off for the grassy finish. The route is a bit changed since Liam found and despatched a loose flake from mid way and he was helpful in not fully letting rip until we had cleared away gear we had carefully laid out in the ‘drop zone’.
All in all another great day at a crag that really should see more visits. All the lines are cracker.
With the promise of fine weather and good company it was an easy decision to journey to Sligo on Saturday morning for the Happy Valli Meet.
I was the first to arrive at Valli’s; it was a fine morning so we headed to the Happy Valli Crag to make a start.
By the time I was finishing the first climb ‘Colmcille Corner’ HS Andrew had arrived having just run over a clatter of mountains that morning and the evening before.
We went on to climb ‘Ox Stair’, ‘Part Man Part Biscuit’ and ‘Muck on Top’, all fine routes with the common theme of little protection at the start but just enough higher up when you really needed it. Geoff and Alan arrived a short time later and climbed ‘Snow White and Colmcille Corner’.
We broke for lunch then headed to Scalp na gCapail Crag a short drive away where we were joined by Hugh. The crag is right beside a road so access couldn’t be easier. The first route I climbed was a VS ‘Polish Paddy’ which had really nice climbing if a bit runout in places and hard for the grade. I climbed another VS ‘Juliana’, a good line with a few more options for protection. By all accounts the HS ‘Garda Síochána’ was s good line and well worth doing. It was obvious that a lot of work had gone into cleaning and developing the crag by local climbers, fair play to those involved.
That evening we enjoyed a BBQ and a few libations around an open fire.
The following morning Geoff and I headed back to the Happy Valli Crag for a few more routes whilst the others pursued other activities. We climbed ‘Raven’ which was loose, dirty and a wee bit scary. We then climbed ‘Snow White’ S, which I thought was tricky for the grade. We also tried a VS ‘Elizabethan’ which had potential for good climbing but was to dirty too climb safely so a detour was made to the right with a fair bit of pulling on heather to get to the top.
In the afternoon all were back on the rock for one or two more routes before heading home.
Thanks to Valli, Gerry and Anika for the hospitality and hosting a great weekend.
Owey Island. 2021 Midsummer camping, Kayaking and climbing trip.
Blessed were we with the weather this year. On Friday morning, Dan collected our gear (and Margaret) and Valli, Ivan and I kayaked across to the island. After a leisurely morning Ivan and I climbed in the Black Spink, I led Kobatron, a nice severe, then Bikini Bottom, a sandbag at HS, nearer 4c we thought, then Ivan led the route that I thought was a first ascent last year, which turned out to be a variation of An Finka Dink E1 5c. This has a harder start (which we avoided, as we started a bit higher) but goes left of the crux crack of An Finka Dink to finish with Kobatron. I called it something beginning with Bh….
Andrew and Laura joined us in the evening, then Anthony, PJ, Nigel, and surprisingly Marty (in his electric kayak) in the morning. We top roped Norkapp as a warm up, 400K, then did the usual paddle for those who hadn’t done it before. After lunch, 6 of us had a grand tango* on ‘Taming the Dragon’, a spectacular Diff on an accessible sea stack (*or tangle perhaps more appropriate).
Margaret took photos from the cliff top.
Back to the Black Spink for a final route or two sans PJ, Anthony and Nigel, (who had got lost on the 10 minute walk). Marty led Bh seconded by Laura and Andrew dragged me and Ivan up Kobatron again. Beer, barby, and bed before dawn. The highlight being the mackerel donated by Charles and wonderfully cooked on the fire by Valli, and of course Marty’s singing, duly accompanied by me on bouzouki, usually in a different key.
In the morning there was talk of a big wind a comin, so a hasty departure was made to Cruit.
Fair Head, fair do’s George. The Nordies got their first outing post- lockdown to the Small Crag, Fair Head, hosted by our chair George Carleton. We just squeezed inside the 15 person limit, due to two going for a walk and 2 choosing to boulder, so there was a great turnout. The sun shone, but it was ‘freezin-as- usual’ in north Antrim in the shade, with an east wind. Hardy folk, they who live there, and the grades are on the hardy side too. George arranged different abs, so we were able to spread the number of climbers across the crag, (not that any virus would have a chance in the constant wind). Great to see so many folk I havent been able to see in ages.
The club AGM was held via Zoom call on Thursday 15th October 2020 at 8pm. Minutes can be downloaded here.
In attendance: Geoff, Sean, George, Damian, Alan, Neil, Valli, Neeku, Anthony, PJ, Andrew, Sarah.
Apologies: Alfie, Finbarr, Margaret
In summary, the following were decided.
Membership fees for 2021 were set at £35. £1.50/€2.00 for associate membership (for those who are MI members individually or via another club).
Climbfest 2021 is planned for Maghery, on the usual bank holiday weekend at the beginning of May.
All club officers re-elected to existing positions for the coming year.
Club Facebook Group to be changed to private group, to avoid all posts being in the public realm. Club FB Page to be used for public posting.
Tentative meets list for Winter 2020 to be put together and circulated. Spring 2021 Meets List TBD when restrictions have eased.
After 4 days camping in Knoydart, bagging Margaret’s last couple of Corbies in that area (we were joined by PJ, Anthonius and the ‘Bessie Boys’ – fresh from success on the Aonach Eagagh,- for a couple of nights) we headed up to Elphin, and kayaked into the base of Suilven from the east. The Bessie Boys walked in from the west, having been forced to abandon their mountain bikes early on. Beautiful spot to camp were it not for the midgies.
We were up early and climbed both peaks, the eastern top being more dramatic, and then paddled out, against both the flow and the wind. Never again. The fact that a rucksack was dragging in the water, and the boat appeared to be slowly sinking, didn’t help. PJ-ANT and the Bessie Boys headed even further north to climb Ben Hope, the most northern Munro, and we made our way south to meet up with Finbarr, who had been blown away by Blaven on 2 consecutive days. After knocking off another Corbie at Killilan with Margaret, we went to Skye to climb ‘The Spur’, a ** scramble up Sgurr An Fheadain, and the Forcan Ridge on the Saddle the following day (last time I did that was 1977 with Brendan Twomey and Freezie Lee).
A rest day in Fort William, then Curved Ridge on the Buachaille with Finbarr and Ant, while Margaret and PJ got another Corbie in Glen Etive. Then we headed for Inverness, PJ and Ant homewards, and Finbarr to the Ring of Steall- the last of his objectives. He did it in fairly adverse conditions in 5.5 hours, then broke his leg on the way down, and drove home. He is now in plaster in Dungiven.
Meanwhile, we did Wee Wyvis, another Corbie with Jimmy, then went to Braemar and got another 3, totalling 9 for the trip. Herself well pleased, me knackered.
Due to recently re-imposed coronavirus restrictions, we are unable to go ahead with the Climbfest in Culdaff this weekend 22-23 August. The club feels it would be irresponsible to invite climbers to travel from around the country to Donegal, given the recent spike in outbreaks.
Hope to see you again at Climbfest 2021.
The base was the Aite Cruinnidhich hostel at Roy Bridge, which the organiser George had booked some months before. We were the first arrivals in the van, on Thursday night, then Jimmy from Inverness, closely followed by Damien and Finbarr. Attempts by the most recent arrivals to find anywhere open to eat and drink in either Roy Bridge or Spean Bridge were fruitless, so Damien rustled up a spagbol.
The forecast was for Friday to be the best day, and with a lower avalanche level in the east, we headed for the Cairngorms, about an hour away. Jimmy and Margaret went to try and bag a couple of nearby Corbetts. The carpark at Cairngorm was filling rapidly when Damien, Finbarr and I arrived, but we stopped for a coffee before tramping across to Coire An Sneachta, Damien twisting his ankle en route. This became a problem for him, despite an ankle support and painkillers, so he turned back just as we started up the slope to the base of the Fiacaill Ridge. The ridge was in wonderful condition, but there were a number of slow guided parties which we managed to get past. Traversing from the top, towards Cairngorm, we met a bloke on a snow board getting towed by a pair of huskies, who told us that he had met another Irish guy with a bad leg on the way up the mountain. Damien?
It was, because there he was on top, having pulled a Lazarus, and we all walked down together, well pleased with the day’s activities.
Back at the Hostel the Corbetteers were licking their egos having floundered in deep snow, and been forced to turn back, whilst the new arrivals, George, PJ and Anthony, were looking at the forecast for Saturday with rising dismay. The hostel was suddenly jammed full of another group (also the CCC according to the identifiers on the mountain of food that was stowed in the fridges).
Yet another walk into and out of Coire Ardair on Craig Meggy (how many times have I done that without ever climbing a route?) followed on Saturday, along with the abovementioned CCC. Jimmy went home. Meal out in Fort William.
Sunday saw The CCC take off for home (with George’s whisky) whilst George, Ant, Finbarr and I headed up the ski lift on Aonach Mor, en route to ‘Golden Oldie’ on the west face, and PJ, Margaret and Damien went in pursuit of another brace of Corbs above Lough Arkaig.
The longest 2 km I have ever walked, up the Ailt Daim, found us wet and confused as to where the base of the ‘Oldie’ might be as we gazed up into the snow and mist. “Should be around here somewhere” said George, who had been before, and so we started up. “Is this it?” said Finbarr as we climbed. “Might be” said George. “Is this it?” said Finbarr, higher up, “Possibly”. said George. “Is this it?” said Finbarr, even higher. “No” said George. But we went up anyway. Silver Oldie perhaps, with at best a bronze medal for navigation, for finding our way down with 5 minutes to spare before the last Gondola. Back at the hostel, herself was well pleased with 2 more Corbetts, Damien had turned back after Meall nah Eilde 838m and went to get the car, and PJ in a coma after trail breaking all day. Anthony not well either, with a dose of the coronas, he thought
George was incandescent on discovering that the CCC had relocated his malt to Glasgow, making do with wine, as we ‘ate in’ that night.
The Feeneys took off for Cairngorm to ski, and the rest had a rest. This was a nice walk up Glen Nevis to the Steall Bridge followed by an afternoon in the pub. Due to rising concern over the fast moving Covid 19 situation, and a poor forecast, we all came home the next day (Tuesday, St Patrick’s day).
The faint hearted heeded the weather warning, the brave, (or foolish), didn’t let the impending storm put the wind up them, and proceeded with the plan, (more out of morbid curiosity than courage I imagine). Marty was there to meet us, clinging to his van, as was Martin Bonar (who had walked over Muckish from the gap) and Terry and his incredible electric car. We were, Marjan and Alan, PJ and Anthony of the hangovers, and me and the line manager.
The plan, was to abseil into the great cave on Muckish, and then go for a pint. The wind should be from the SW so the north face should be sheltered. When we parked, inability to open any of the doors on one side of the car, and alarming rocking of same, indicated that the wind was not as anticipated, but undeterred, we climbed out of the other side, and crabbed our way towards the mountain. The wind, which occasionally dropped to hurricane force 17 (+ hail), relented somewhat as we got to the base of the miner’s track. We met a bloke with a dog coming down. Martin pointed out that the wind wasn’t too bad earlier in the morning, but we had timed out arrival impeccably at the height of the storm.
To climb out onto the western flank of the mountain, scramble to the edge of a cliff, and abseil seemed suicidal (especially as Alan had never abbed before) so we decided to go up the miners track and see how it went.
A splinter group of Martin and Marty (the mad Martins) was seen to veer off and head for the cave. We pretended not to notice. It was ok up the track, which turned to snow higher up. Another splinter group, they of the hangovers, choose to go up a snowy gully, and met us at the sand pit. A quick scally up the lower reaches of Crowe’s Gully was all we were allowed, as herself had plans for the coffee shop in Glenveigh.
Down we went, but I could see the mad Martins at the top of the cave, and still had ambitions of a photograph. Madder Martin had disappeared, but could I get there in time to take a photo of the lesser mad Martin on the ab? I raced across meeting Terry (who had changed his mind about staying in the car) en route. When I got to the base of the cave and gazed aloft, there was madder Martin dangling euphorically below the roof, and in no hurry to rejoin humanity, (possibly because there was a big knot below him). To be fair the knot was almost at ground level, but nevertheless hard to unpick, and almost as hard as getting Marty out of his pre-war harness. Lesser mad Martin untied the rope and walked down, and we all went our separate ways, some to Glenveigh where we met up with the North West, and some elsewhere.