A Rough Ride with Rudolf

After a seemingly interminable wait for a revival of mixed climbing conditions Murdo and I set out for Beinn Eighe late on a dark night which sent heavy showers of cold rain across the Torridon moors. Up high we had hopes of thick fresh snow, rime and ice, but the initial risk was of getting a soaking. "If we get one of these squalls, I'm for going back," said Murdo. He was not in best fettle after receiving a stern lashing from The Vicar in Coire an Lochain the previous day and had omitted to bring overtrousers. Luckily, we got high in the snows before any serious precipitation arrived and could look forward to improving weather through the day. We left our sacks as usual at the Coinneach Mor cairn and we descended under the morning mists to see a highly desirable coating of whiteness on the cliffs. Even the forbidding Far East Wall was rimed on all but its steepest prows. At this sight a simultaneous and involuntary lurch in our digestive systems sent us scurrying in in different directions in search of sheltered boulders. A stream of ice flowed down the bottom pitch of our main target, the corner line of Rudolf which is a summer E2 smack in the centre of the wall. No winter ascents had been recorded in the vicinity. Anticipating that protection would be lacking Murdo seemed more than content to let me lead this icy start. Sure enough the verglassed cracks were largely useless for gear. Even after persistent hammering of nuts and hex chocks, most slipped out with an outward tug. Happily, the gummed cracks gave some brilliant placements for my axe picks so that I always felt I had at least one secure point of attachment. Soon I was hitched to three anchors in a chimney slot below a big roof where the ice ended and the soaring corner began.

Martin sets out on the icy first pitch copyright Murdo Jamieson

Now was the time for some Murdo magic as he launched over the roof on the summer 5c pitch. Leaving his runners below foot level he laybacked off a thin torque and thrashed at some turf to his right. Suddenly there was a yelp and scraping and I was yanked into the air as he promptly rejoined me on the belay. His second attempt brought a moment of doubt. "A braver man would...." he muttered, and I thought he was going to baulk the moves. No sooner were the words uttered than he extravagantly bridged his right foot horizontally across the roof, in fair impression of ballet maestro Rudolph Nureyev. This gave him just sufficient respite to sort his axes on the best bits of stringy soil and pull through to success. Onward progress was not as rapid as I'd hoped and when the words "This is mental. If you thought the Needle was hard....." floated down I became seriously apprehensive. With one further fall Murdo reached a belay. I took two attempts to get past the roof then swung up the corner on amazing pick locks to the wide "Needle on steroids" layback crack. Somehow Murdo had laybacked this on his axe shafts. I took one look at the crack, noticed that the rock was free of ice and decided that gloved hand-jams would work here. Much to Murdo's chagrin I scuttled up in seconds. His jaw dropped. An epoch-making grade 9 lead had just been converted into a VDiff by an old man. It seemed wise to make a swift changeover lest I betrayed my enjoyment of the predicament.

Murdo prepares to surmount the roof on pitch two copyright Martin Moran

The summer description posted a 45 metre top-pitch of 5b standard, and this started with steep but accommodating cracks and ice blobs. Another big roof forced a tenuous traverse left on smooth breastplates of quartzite. From a poor hook I had to impale a lonely lump of turf way out left and scuttle my feet across before my bodyweight ripped it out. With this achieved I felt sure the route would relent and, indeed, there was an abundance of cracks up the wall to the right of the corner above. I failed to register that this wall was in fact gently overhanging, and soon I was grunting from armlock to armlock in search of respite. By the time I had bridged back to the main corner daylight was fast fading and I was getting short of equipment. To make matters worse the corner was verglassed. Lacking a torch I had to belay within the next 20 minutes. Without good anchors we would be in deep trouble. Crisis, what crisis! A solitary slot under the next roof offered the sole hope. I made a hard mantleshelf into the niche and stuffed a sling down a constriction in the iced crack, more in hope than expectation. To my joy it slid 20cm down and emerged at the bottom - the perfect thread. Soon I was safely strapped in and Murdo's headlight slowly flickered towards me, accompanied by sundry protestations of being cold and fed up. His elastic axe leashes were getting tangled and my gear was stubbornly hard to extract. "I'm not enjoying myself; I'm just not cut out for this winter game" he moaned, and then threw some of his toys out of the pram by dropping a peg and runner.

Believe it or not, the next section was delicate; brilliant quartzite climbing on pitch three. Copyright Murdo Jamieson

There were at least 20 metres still to climb and I seriously feared that he would hand me the lead. I was quite wrong. Murdo Jamieson has the knack of transforming himself from whingeing brat to class climber within seconds. Such versatility worked to our advantage as he pulled through the roofs and powered up another series of corner cracks. At some time approaching 8pm the reassuring call came down that there were now some footholds and the climb was easing. Sure enough the top 20 metres extracted another series of arm-sapping technical 8 contortions, but being Beinn Eighe there was always another axe hook just within reach whenever strength or resolve wavered. I sung as sweetly as I could to help keep my concentration. "How could you sing classical music when you're climbing that?" Murdo asked. Considering that my tune of the day was "If You Leave Me Now" by Chicago it is clear that this young man needs some education in the Arts.

On reaching the top we were embarrassed to reflect that we had taken 11 hours to climb 100 metres of rock. Descent was a delightful antidote to our laboured ascent. We ploughed down the snowslopes at an unbroken canter and were back at the car inside an hour and half. Whatever the grade Rudolf is one of the best winter lines on the mountain and certainly the hardest of the ones that I've done. Maybe it would be Murdo's last climb before he heads down to Plas y Brenin in Wales to start an 8 month contract as a voluntary instructor. No doubt he'll display the broadest grin as he exhorts his fellow staff to get up to Beinn Eighe for some great winter climbing.

Beinn Eighe, Far East Wall: Rudolf 100m VIII, 8/9 ***: A superb winter route, very sustained and at the upper end of the grade. Pitch one climbed the iced crack left of the cave to a belay in a niche at the first roof (7; 25m; serious). The second pitch has a hard start (maybe 9), then climbs past wedged pillars to a layback crack which would be very hard if iced, before traversing 3m left to a hanging belay (20m). The top section was broken into two pitches. The first goes up to a roof, makes a delicate traverse into the upper corner, then climbs strenuously up cracks in the leaning right wall before regaining the corner and climbing to a constricted belay under a capping roof (8; 30m). The top pitch moves left past the roof with difficulty then follows the monolithic final corner to the top (8; 25m). Murdo Jamieson and Martin Moran 23rd Jan 2012

Source Martin Moran Blog

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