Lee Harrison Climbing

There was plenty of activity in Coire an Lochain on Saturday with teams on many of the classics. Plan 'A' had been The Hoarmaster but there were climbers already gearing up at its base. Instead we turned our attention to a line left of Oesophagus that was missing from the guidebook. It looked a strong enough line with a clean corner distinguishing the first pitch. Too good not to try we thought. The route climbs the system of cracks and corners just left of the centre of the photo My partner Michael led the first pitch up parallel grooves with sparse protection. Some strong pulls on turf at the top of the grooves confirmed that it was totally frozen solid. Then the left-facing corner, which offered up plenty of bomber hooks and gear. A further short step brought Michael to the belay above an excellent first pitch. Michael climbing the groove at the start of the first pitch I led the second pitch, which continued up an obvious off-width crack. I considered that maybe...

I had plenty of annual leave to take during the second half of 2013 as a consequence of being out of action through the first half of the year. Trips to Ariège, Bregalia, and Lundy had started the ball rolling. Even with an ice climbing trip to Cogne booked over Christmas and New Year I still had a week to play with. Where to spend a week in November? Wadi Rum appealed but was maybe too long haul for a week. We considered the Alps but concluded November might prove too much of a gamble. There was always the UK but the wet weather did not overly inspire us to stick around. In contrast the South of France sounded appealing. Particularly in light of the great trip to Ariège earlier the same year. There would be sunshine, cheap wine and good cheese on offer and hopefully some good climbing, albeit with weak fingers. Most of my prior training had focused on winter. Lots of chalk climbing and weights. Not much time at the wall pulling on plastic and one very wet weekend at Port...

I was falling… My hip crashed into the cliff three bolts below my high point. I looked down to see blood dripping from my fingers and a bulldog and quickdraw dangling from my rope. The last piece of in-situ gear had blown during the fall. I had fallen a good five metres. Fortunately the bolts below the bulldog were sound enough to catch me. My hip felt sore from the impact. I had been only a few moves below the lower-off of Cold Front (C5+) at the Eastern end of the cliffs. Almost close enough to reach out and touch the lower-off ring with an axe. I was clueless as to what had caused the fall. I had done the hard moves out right above the roof and seemed to have it in the bag. The composure and tension had felt controlled. The last thing I remember was trying to get my feet set above the roof. But then I was off. Maybe a foot hold broke off? I have no recollection. The Eastern Cliffs A second attempt was out of the question. Blood was running down my fingers and my hip was sore...

Mike and me passed the 'Nudism is not Allowed' sign at the top of the cliff... wrapped up in warm clothes and Goretex to keep out the rain. There were rain showers across the whole of the UK over the weekend... Obviously time for chalk climbing. Grim Last year's winter season was a write-off for me after post-appendectomy abdominal pains kept me side-lined until well into spring. The psyche was overflowing to make up for the disappointment and lost time. Mileage was objective of the day. I was looking to get some forearm pump. High tide put the East side off limits so we climbed some of regular routes on the West side: Back Off Back On, Back Up (the start feels much harder this year), Strangeness and Charm of the Quark, and then Back to the Future. It took a couple of routes to find the flow and relax the axe grip. Gradually the weather improved. Mike climbing Back Off Back On (C5) Mike climbing Back to the Future (C6) Then we set about trying the recent...

The ample white wine and champaign from last night's wedding reception wasn't helping matters... A simple traverse from left to right along a wide ledge was baffling me. The surrounding slate walls were overhung. Foot ledges were cut at 90 degrees to the overhung walls as though the cliff was subsiding. Crawling across the ledge did not seem the answer... (Photo by Anna Kennedy) Nor did facing outwards... (Photo by Anna Kennedy) Ultimately it proved easiest to simply side-step my way across whilst facing inward. But only after I had found the confidence to press my forehead against the wall to avoid barn-dooring. The right way (Photo by Anna Kennedy) I placed a cam in a shallow semi-circular bore channel. It was just about deep enough for the apexes to grip. My only other piece of gear lay before the traverse at foot level. Horizontally too far and low to prevent a ground fall. At least the immediate climbing looked easy, which led up and slightly back lef...

It was after last orders by the time we arrived at the Bush Inn at Morwenstow with no place to stay. The bar had a slightly Wild West feeling about it in that we drew the attention of nearly everybody at the bar. “No nearby campsite” was the general consensus but the local farmer at the far end of the bar was quick to offer us a field almost adjacent to the pub to camp with no strings attached. We were quick to accept the offer. Next morning there was low cloud and a light drizzle. The cliffs were supposed to be quick drying so in spite of this we headed for Vicarage Cliff, which had some low grade routes that would suit potentially poor conditions. Light drizle ...and low cloud We missed the normal descent and instead abseiled off a wobbly stake down some loose rubble scramble terrain. Both of us dislodged some rocks along the way. Everything was slippery and soaking. The cliff across the beach was shrouded. What were we doing here?... Still, there was no better plan, other...

The chalk near the start of the slab was unexpectedly hard, and I swung my axe repeatedly, trying to chip reliable holds. Sometimes I would fail and would need to switch location. It had been a fine summer but was the chalk maybe too dry as a consequence? Usually the chalk at Dover is easier to climb low down, where it is more saturated and therefore softer. What beckoned higher up? The top looked a long way off. My forearms worked overtime from the multiple axe swings. I paused to shake out my calves. My busy summer on rock provided little in the way of conditioning for this form of climbing but at least the first couple of warthog placements were adequate. (About 7/10 I reckoned) Beneath the slab I veered right to avoid a mild steepening at the left edge of the slab at third height. The chalk quickly became softer and easier to climb but proportionally more crumbly, which triggered a steady flow of debris to tumble South. The surface chalk repeated cracked and peeled with li...