After an amazing day climbing M6 Solar, everything felt a little too comfortable. In the words of Nick Bullock, it was ‘time to get scared’.
After the now standard circus of queueing, queueing and re-queuing for the midi lift, boarding passes and then the lift again, we edged passed a small Asian woman who was attempting to fight the lift attendant for a place in the queue, refusing to get a boarding pass. We watched as she returned to the queue with a pass and attempted to hit the the attendant, only to be picked up by her jacket and dropped into a crumpled heap in the queue. All very amusing, until Street Fighter herself got on the lift right next to us.
Approach up to the shoulder – Credit: Luke D
Some saucy arête and ski action later and we are walking into Scotch on the Rocks. One of the most pleasing things about trying harder routes (apart from getting the route to yourself), is the gentle convergence of the date of the first ascent with present day. Scotch on the Rocks is a Stevie Haston line from the 90’s and at M7, would be the hardest moves we’d ever tried on the mountain. The first challenge proved to be the approach. In topos, this is described as either trivial climbing at grade 2 or not mentioned at all. We could see how, with ice, how this could be the case, however, faced with 5-10m of blank unprotected slab, we felt a little short changed. After a couple of probing attempts, I noodled my way through several gear-less metres of shallow mono pockets and thin puddles of ice no larger in diameter than a tennis ball, and we were back in business.
Luke leading up P1
As I’d already lead a stretch, Luke geared up and made for the first pitch. Again, pictures suggest that with ice, this would have been a little easier. With not so much as a single ice cube in sight, Luke raked at the loose soil-y cracks and pedalled crampons up the chimney till he made the belay. Luke probably climbed it more gracefully and carefully than this on lead, but it’s what I did on second so lets go with it. With one more pitch till the crux pitch, and talk already turning to Luke’s shift that evening, Luke again took the lead, which would put me onto the crux pitch. As daintily as before, Luke balanced his way up a decidedly ice free chimney, only marginally easier than the last. By the time I’d made it to the belay, I was starting to feel a little anxious.
I hadn’t eaten or slept enough the night before and my mind was still a whirl with emotions attached to personal events over the previous week and of my return to the UK the next day. After a short chat with Luke, I had some time to breathe deeply and regain focus. From the belay, we could see a couple of pitons that promised respite for the mind so I decided I had to give it a go. As soon as I stepped off the belay, everything slipped from my mind like grease from Barry Scott. Climbing was automatic and I was soon passed the first piton and onto the second. Here the flaring off width rears up and feet become sparse and inconveniently orientated. With a decent hand jam, I reached behind my head with a quick draw, Luke guiding my hand in with verbal cues, and clipped the second and last piton. From here it was possible to stretch up and reach a thin but good hook. I let my body fall slowly out of the crack until I hung beneath the axe. Here, next to the piton, one hand on the axe, one foot on a ledge, I let my body hang out like a flag in the breeze, soaking in the exposure. I this moment I was far calmer and more composed than I had clipped into the belay. A few thin hooks and some lofty bridging moves brought me to a chockstone at the top of the crack. From here there were some burly but secure moves, but, spurred on by my progress thus far, It didn’t take long till I was over the chockstone and within a few easy moves of the belay.
Hanging off the hook – Credit Luke D
Shaking out – Credit Luke D
From here, we decided to abseil off. Luke had to get back for work, and we’d both completed our aim of pulling hard and getting scared. The crux pitch was what we had really come for and it hadn’t disappointed, so soon we were back to the floor and onto our skis, wondering if we would bump into Tekken 2 again in the queue for the train down.
Luke having just pulled over the chock stone
I found the clarity I had gained from just that short section of climbing lasted far longer than the climbing itself. It’s said often that climbers don’t battle for victory against the mountains but victory against themselves, and today I’d come out on top, which felt good.
On the flight home, I thought about seeing my family again, and in particular the potential lead ballon that I planned on doing another winter in Chamonix. I stared at the back of the EasyJet headrest in front of me. It proclaimed that with them one could save ‘Time and Money’. As my eyes crossed out of focus, I watched as ‘Time’ and ‘Money’ swapped places on the ad. “Woah, deep”, I thought, just before I passed out.
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