First published in The Scottish Mountaineer magazine in October 2003

*****

‘That was blatant exhibitionism!’ scolded Ali.
She was right of course. We were driving back through Rothiemurchus forest, retelling our heroic deeds and glorying in the evening sunlight through the trees. After all we had just climbed Hellfire Corner and needed to get our story straight before returning to the bunkhouse.
‘It was definitely VS’ we agreed
‘A good traditional Scottish VS’ moreover!“The broad open snowfield of Coire Raibeirt gently funnels into a desperately narrow and steep gully that roars with melt-water. On it’s right wall the gully can be skied down a narrow tongue of snow that leads in 400m of effortless gliss to the shore of Loch Avon. Here I paused and listened to the silence broken dramatically by tons of ice sliding from the slabs of Hell’s Lum. It seems that winter is losing it’s grip.”

That was written in the already legendary winter of 2001. Two years later I find myself back in the Loch Avon Basin on almost the same weekend, only difference is that today we’re here to go rock climbing. This may have been one of the worst winter seasons of recent years, but while others are regretting the pitiful lack of snow and ice, some have noticed that the sun has been shining for two months. Two months of sun, and it’s only April! Surely after an extraordinary spell like that Hell’s Lum will be dry!

It is early morning and our optimism continues to shine, encouraged by the flood of sun on our faces as we gain the Cairngorm Plateau. On days like this I remind myself of topping out from Coire an t-Sneachda into a maelstrom of stinging spindrift. Today there is warm granite rather than ice crunching under my boots and the waters of the Allt Domhain rise lazily from the moss of the plateau before gathering themselves for a steep slide and cascade towards Loch Avon. It is here that the sweep of Hell’s Lum slabs first come into view and we stop to consult our map and guidebook.

Guidebooks give us much useful information such as; “An excellent route, although usually wet at the crux”. Having digested wisdom such as this I then tend to set it aside because of course relying on a guidebook detracts from the challenge! I want to experience the climb like the first ascentionist. I want to figure out the line, convince myself that it will go and then rely on confidence and commitment to deal with any surprises that may be encountered.

You can imagine then how surprised we are to find the crag streaming with water! 150m above our heads, the overhang on Salamander casts a fine spray into the air. The water then pulses and sparkles it’s way down the red granite slabs towards us until absorbed by a respectable ribbon of snow at their base.

Hellfire Corner is a big red left facing glistening feature leading up to the right hand end of the overhangs. With our rucksacks carefully stashed by a large boulder Ali leads the way across the snow patch to a small ledge where we can change into our rock boots. There is no belay but Ali finds plenty of runners in the initial crack before she announces that ‘It’s started already!’. I presumed she meant a tricky bit so I made myself comfortable to admire the view while she figured it out.

Below me scree falls away to the moraines and sandy beaches encircling Loch Avon. I allow the sunlit scene to shift and every time it stops, I catch myself looking into the deep shadows cast by the compelling Shelterstone crag. I’ve barely started on one objective and already I’m planning the next. It’s always the way. I am brought out of my daydream by a little too-ing and fro-ing on the rope while Ali negotiates a wet and awkward step. Soon enough she is belayed at the end of the rope. The pitch is given 60m. With the aid of the snow we did it in 50.

Thereafter the route is a little ambiguous. I respond by stitching a devious line between small corners, grooves, slabs and overlaps, trying always to find the line of least water. In this I am moderately successful but as the little corners merge progressively toward Hellfire Corner it becomes clear that we are going to get wet eventually.

From a comfortable thread belay I watch Ali make short work of a steep groove that is our access to the most impressive section of the climb. The corner itself can be done in two pitches and 20m out Ali takes a tenuous belay on a wet sloping ledge. As I haul myself aboard I notice that the way ahead looks intimidating and pause to compose myself. Together we discuss the best approach to a series of bulges that lean uncomfortably against a steep left facing wall that forms the corner.

My first foray is made against this wall but I soon became entangled between one of the belay pegs and an awkward sloping mantleshelf. I retreat to the ledge and try instead to find a way up the water-streaked slabs to my left. This turns out to be even less promising but does uncover a good runner. We decide to re-arrange the belay onto this wire so that I can use the peg on the wall as my first runner. This arrangement proves more satisfactory and with a grunt and a squeal I find enough leverage to plonk my backside onto the shelf. Not stylish I know, but it did the job. Creeping to my feet I am not encouraged to find another similar but damper move, this time with no peg for backup.

I contemplated retreat. Impossible!
‘Let’s just have a wee look then.’ I often talk to myself in these situations.
The ‘wee look’ reveals decent holds on the wall. I am confident that I can make the move but the lack of protection worries me. I can tell without looking at her that it worries Ali too.
‘Hold it together… focus.’ I am planning ahead and have to be certain to get it right as I do not plan to test the peg, now moving further behind me.
I take a brief rest and then make the commitment. It works; I charge cleanly up to the apparent security of a large flake,
‘Come on, I know you’re there!’
Things get pretty slimy at the back of the flake but at last there is, a good positive mossy edge!
I rock over onto a high foothold and make myself as comfortable as can be expected with greasy water trickling down my sleeve and a steady stream running into my rock boots. With a satisfactory sling around the flake I am able to contemplate.
‘What next?’
Ahh, a hand jam. I love hand jams; especially the slimy ones where your hand slowly comes out like a cork from a wine bottle. No but seriously, I do like hand jams and so this is the technique that I use to move past the flake and onto dry rock at last!

I am in the clear now and my climbing shows it. Time for some exhibitionism! With ‘thank God’ jugs on the right wall, I work my way up the celebrated bridging corner until, voila! My left arm is crooked round an accommodating chockstone and I am free to lean out and contemplate my ropes with evident satisfaction. That’s it; I know that as soon as I move over that lip I will loose the moment and the exposure, so I produce my camera. I am as ecstatic as Ali is disgusted, but then I am the one with my head in the sunshine and she the one on that wet sloping belay.

Ali wastes no time seconding and is soon leading the last problem with the reward of topping out now in her sights. Reunited on the plateau, we find the day going about its business unconcerned with our achievement. There’s no hurry so we bask by a snow patch until it is time to slither back down the Allt Domhain to retrieve our rucksacks. As we pass I am pleased to observe friends moving together up a very wet Auld Nick. Rather them than me. We leave them to their black stained rock and climb higher to enjoy what is left of the sun and the space on the Plateau.

Hellfire Corner, Hell’s Lum, Cairngorms
First Ascent: 1958 G Annand & R H Sellers
Millennium Climbers: 19 April 2003 Alison Callum & Ian Hall

Related Posts