Tower Ridge

At 1,344 metres (4,409 ft for oldies) above sea level Ben Nevis is the highest mountain in the United Kingdom. Tower Ridge is one of a multitude of ridges that tumble out from the North East side of the summit plateau. Tower Ridge is probably the most famous of these and is a must tick for aficionados of Ken Wilson’s Classic Rock tome. It is about 820m (2700ft) in length if the Douglas Boulder is avoided and around 1000m (3300ft) if it is included.

The ridge is located approximately 500m south of the Charles Inglis Clark (CIC) Hut and terminates close to the summit of the mountain. The usual route up Tower Ridge is a graded at 3S or Difficult depending on whether you scramble or climb it. Few mountain expeditions in the UK can offer comparable amounts of the exposure and length that make this route truly Alpine in character.

In winter conditions it is graded Scottish Grade IV, partly because most of its difficulties, such as the Eastern Traverse and Tower Gap, lie high up on the route but largely due to its overall length. For a winter ascent it is recommended to allow up to ten hours as “all levels of difficulty may be encountered depending on conditions”.

A number of distinct features appear on the ridge. In the order that a would-be ascensionist would encounter them, they are:

1. The Douglas Boulder is the first major obstacle on the ridge. For fans of suffering, this offers possibly the most arduous climbing on the route and is only recommended for fast and/or experienced parties. It is easily outflanked on either side by using the East or West Gullies; both of these go at a winter grade of I and can be soloed with ease.

2. The Douglas Gap is where parties using the East or West Gullies join the ridge. For the hardcore who have gone direct careful down climbing into the Gap is required or more usually, (speed is safety) an abseil is used. Escape from the gap is by a “tricky” chimney. From here it is possible to move together or solo as the terrain is quite straightforward. However in poor conditions it might require protecting.

3. The ridge becomes a bit steeper at the Little Tower providing the first real barrier after the Douglas Boulder. The SMC Ben Nevis guide book suggests left if the conditions are dry or with good ice but right if it is under heavy powder.

4. The Great Tower offers a second and some what more substantial rise of the ridge. A direct ascent of the Great Tower is hard. But like the Douglas Boulder, it can be outflanked by traversing a narrow ledge (the 'Eastern Traverse') on the left hand side before climbing to its apex.

5. The crux is provided by the (infamous) Tower Gap, a small notch in the ridge beyond the Great Tower. The Gap is around three metres deep but at this point the ridge has narrowed to less than one metre wide and offers up views of precipitous drops to either side, providing ample exposure. The Gap can be avoided by an extended version of the leftward traverse that is usually started prior to ascending the Great Tower, For purists, however, this is a no go area, but it is worth knowing about in case of an emergency. This bypasses the Gap from below, regaining the ridge at a higher point. An escape into the nearby Tower Gully is also possible if taking this route. If Tower Gully is being used to escape, please be aware of potential avalanche dangers.

6. Finally an easy ascent from Tower Gap to the summit plateau is the reward for the faithful. Now relax, take a deep breath and contemplate your two to three hour walk off. “No, absolutely no, I’m not tired or knackered at this point.” You may have to repeat several times at this juncture.

Plan 9 from outer space

What actually happened

08/03/2010 - Attempt 1 - (lessons learnt and how not to tackle a classic mountain route)

In hind-sight an assault on a long route like Tower Ridge would best be started the normal (easy) way. However being the fan of suffering that I am, led to a decision to tackle The Douglas Boulder by its Direct Route (IV, 4). Everything was going to plan, an early start and a good healthy slog up to the CIC hut and it was game-on. However, I did reflect upon how menacing the visage that the Douglas Boulder had presented on the walk, noting the mid-section appeared a wee bit devoid of the lashings of snow enjoyed by the rest of the Ben Nevis North Face. I had a moment of self doubt. Was I ready for a Scottish winter IV? How hard could it be? What could possibly go wrong?

A quick sandwich, drink and gear-up and we were off for a day of high adventure (much more than planned). Any initial doubts had now evaporated. A decent snow ramp led up to the base of the Douglas Boulder. Adrian announced the first pitch was described as easy and that he was having it. A belay was established, everything double checked and Adrian was off.

The easy groove was a bit suspect, judging by the amount of debris cascading down [AF: This was mostly ice cleared to find some protection], so Adrian went off to the left onto more mixed terrain after a slight pause to reflect on his situation, a bold pull was had and he was off again. Some time later the welcome call of “safe” was heard. Now it was my turn, Adrian’s lead was quite impressive as the mixed variation was no push over and felt quite technical for what I was expecting. Once off the mixed ground a quick rising traverse led to the belay point. Gear switched hands and it was my turn for pitch two.

The second pitch was fairly straight forward up to where it steepens and the snow decided to impersonate candy floss. The first attempt to surmount this led to a small snow collapse, an ice axe placement popping and a few choice words. After a brief tussle a good(ish) placement was found and facilitated a bold high stepping rock-over to gear and a belay. Once I was safe and Adrian’s belay dismantled, he soon shot up the second pitch but was slowed up by the candy floss section.

Again gear passed hands, a quick plan was formed for the next section and Adrian was off again. Things slowed a bit at the base of the chimney. The route steepened noticeably here. Adrian made one attempt to surmount the corner/boulder. After getting a welcome piece of gear in he then down-climbed, took a brief rest and then had another go. Finding a magic axe placement combined with a high stepping crampon crunching smear for the right foot and a bit of back & footing, he was up and over. Once established in the chimney proper Adrian decided the next bit was emanating pure menace in our general direction and generously gifted me with the next bit of leading. Luckily the chimney is quite wide here and would allow for two people to stand side by side.

Following Adrian’s path into the chimney was no walk-over, that move alone must be worth at least a technical 4. Gear passed hands yet again, a couple of deep breaths and mental Hail Mary’s and I was off. No I wasn’t, um this looked tricky. It was lucky that Adrian was there and able to offer moral support and dry comments in my hour of need. Composing myself I then attacked the chimney with an assortment of axe placements, manly pulls, another high stepping rock-over and general off-width thuggery. These assorted techniques enabled me to break through to the next tier of the chimney. No obvious gear, best press to where I could get gear placed. More panting, power-grunting, cursing and off-width shuffling gained good foot holds that in turn led to a good hand hold. A good old fashioned bit of Victorian jug and pull climbing and I was on a good ledge. Gear went in, and I relaxed to contemplate the next bit.

I tried the direct way at first but after two snow bank collapses; I tried to out-flank the route by going left up a rising snow bank. Mixed climbing up a short corner followed, from this I pulled up onto a snow-bank to what appeared to be easy ground and a block advertising a hex placement that only Carlsberg could have dreamt up. Once I was established on the snow-bank (about 60-70º) I realised the snow was in poor condition. However a couple of moves would bring the block and good gear into range. Careful plunging was employed to gain height “oh fudge cakes”, or words to that effect wafted down to Adrian [AF: Fewer syllables were actually heard] as the snow-bank under my feet collapsed. I was saved by plunging the ice axes in with two points of contact per axe. I was able to re-establish my feet and try again and again and again. Whatever I tried I just could not gain the block, it was a classic one step forward, two steps backwards scenario. I dug some snow away looking for decent holds but the rock was smooth underneath.

I reviewed my options: down-climbing would be problematical at best and probably involve a controlled fall. Looking about, it seemed possible to traverse right. Leaning out right I found a single good axe placement and good snow for a foot hold. I gingerly tapped a step in at full stretch. I tried to rock-over, “oh fudge cakes”, I couldn’t commit to the move. This was damn scary but strangely exhilarating. Moving back, the snow bank shifted again, “oh fudge cakes”, even if MR were called (yes, I did briefly think of this scenario) the snow wouldn’t survive that long. “Oh fudge cakes”, what had I got myself into. The move right seemed the only possible way to make progress.

Carefully reaching over and placing my right boot into the kicked in step I then plunged the left axe low and close to my body to use as a push down hand hold. Pushing down and reaching up with the right I found a solid hook in some frozen turf that was welded to the rock. Ever so slowly I rocked up and over. I hardly dared breathe as I was now a very good distance above the last piece of gear and nothing felt 100% secure. More globules of turf and careful calculated moves led to some steep slightly over-vertical rock and good gear, “phew.” I exhaled with relief and could breathe again.

From this point on the climbing got progressively harder, possibly as I was tiring or the relentlessness of the route was beginning to tell. Or then again maybe it was just plain bonkers hard. More torquing moves, awkward gear placements and long run outs ensued. This climb wasn’t going to be seduced into submission without a pitched battle. By this time my clothing was soaked in sweat from both the exertion and the adrenalin coursing through my system. The climbing was becoming the scariest, most desperate, sustained and strength sapping that I’ve ever been involved in; it just wouldn’t give up. But neither would I, I was committed and focused.

Every time the promised easy ground was within reach, it evaporated before my eyes as I pulled up, tricked by evil foreshortening again. By this point I was fully focused and engaged with the problems presented by this route in a way I have never been before on any other route or type of climbing. Every time I was confronted with an impossible move, a bit of lateral thinking found a workable solution and another piece of spartanly placed gear. My axes were used for torquing from all angles: the point, the shovel bit and hammer all saw their fair bit of action. At one point even the handle was employed.

On the way I passed more than one piece of in-situ gear left by persons unknown. What tales of woe might they have? I knew that this wasn’t the correct line and I was in a groove line heading generally up and left. I tried several times to go right and rejoin the route proper. Each time the way was barred. But continuing up and left I could still see some in-situ gear and crampon scratches ahead. Someone had climbed it so it was possible.

After placing my first tri-cam and pulling up I found an in-situ nut. Forget abstract notions like ethics I’m having that, and with wild European abandon I clipped it. As I pulled up onto the next tier of rock, the quick-draw I had just used clipped into my crampon! This arrested my forward progress halfway through a high-stepping, nerve wracking hard move. A sideways shuffle and I was able to jam the hammer of my ice-axe into an accommodating crack and hang off this whilst I freed the crampon with the other axe. At the point of giving up the cursed quickdraw dropped free. The rope felt tight, a quick check with belay confirmed I had plenty left, couldn’t see where it was dragging, I wasn’t sure what was going on, but as I pulled up it seemed to correct itself.

A couple of stepped blocks led to a small rubbish snow bank in the corner. Hooray! Above the next set of hard moves the angle eased and juggy holds were mere metres away. After several inventive axe placements and failed attempts I found, what felt like, the right sequence.

A thin crack in the initial corner presented a good placement. Double stacking the axes I pulled through to another and yet another good slot. Reaching up I got a lateral torque with the right-hand axe. Stepping high I smeared my right crampon into the smooth corner. Delicately I brought up my left boot and found something small to stand on. Straightening up and reaching through with left axe I couldn’t find anything. “Oh fudge cakes”, I said, not for the first time on this climb. As I contemplated how to get to the jugs, I heard a gut wrenching ping as the right axe popped out of its placement.

Time momentarily stood still, “oh fudge cakes”, “oh fudge cakes”, “oh fudge cakes”, then I was flying out and down. I initially hit solid ground in a semi face-plant position, heard some metallic clanking and mildly bounced into space again. I began thinking I should have by now stopped, “oh fudge-cakes”, I really should have stopped by now. After bouncing down several snow slopes and rock bits spinning around, I ended up in a semi-inverted position, having enough time think though what would happen if the gear failed and how far I would go; I came to a grinding halt. Silence. Am I damaged? Is anything hurting? Did the gear hold? Will it keep holding? A multitude of thoughts barraged my mind. I righted myself and conducted a mental system check of my body. No, nothing obvious hurt. Then a few aches and pains announced themselves. My head had cracked against something but my helmet had taken the brunt of the impact. I could feel that some ribs were now or were going to be bruised. “Oh fudge-cakes” I said for the last time that day as a tentative voice came up from the belay “Are you all right”? The in-situ nut and my first tri-cam placement had held.

“Yes” I replied, “I think so”. Looking back up to see how far I had fallen I realised this was the biggest lob of my climbing career. My heart shrank when I looked up and saw the amount of rope between me and the gear. I had climbed some distance above my gear in an all out attempt to reach the easy ground. In hind sight I had missed an obvious gear placement in my focused drive reach the aforesaid easy ground. Reflecting on the length of rope above me I estimated the fall was 8m to 10m in length or around the height of an average two story house.

“Do you want to carry on”? Adrian asked. I looked up and couldn’t face doing all those moves again. I had given it my best and my best wasn’t good enough. Part of me felt I had let Adrian down as this was now in effect a wasted day and he wouldn’t be able to experience the moves on this pitch. “No, lower me off”, I replied “I’ve had enough”. I hadn’t realised how exhausted I was until I stopped. My forearms felt like jelly and sweat was running freely down my face.

A second system check revealed I had lost my left crampon and my right ice-axe. Adrian gently lowered me down and I retrieved what gear I could as I descended to the belay. We estimated that I had spent 60 minutes possibly longer to climb approximately 25m – 30m. By the time I arrived at the belay I was in a post traumatic adrenalin endorphin rush Zen like calm. Adrian wisely took charge of setting up a lower-off and we talked each move through (more important for me, cheers to JB for that tip). As I abseiled, off I retrieved my ice-axe from the base off the chimney and my crampon from the bottom of the 2nd pitch. Adrian had dryly mentioned seeing items of gear fly over head at great speed.

On reaching the bottom of the climb I reattached my crampon and waited for Adrian. Adrian arrived and the ropes were pulled through with no further ado. To save time I trudged off down the slope dragging the rope behind me. Wow, they actually straightened out as planned and stayed tangle free. As we coiled the ropes I found some damage about 1.5m from one end. It looked like one of my axes had made a determined attempted to saw through the rope. I assume this is what snatched my axe out of my hand during the fall.

All that was left was the long walk back to the car and a stop off at the Fort William Morrison’s for some food and a bottle of single malt.

And finally after consulting the mighty guide book it appears I had strayed onto parts of Down to the Wire (V, 6) in lean conditions. What actual grade I was climbing at is anyone’s guess?

09/03/20010 – Attempt 2 - How do a classic mountain route

After the previous day’s adventures it was decided we would take a suck it and see approach to the next day’s activities and see if any injuries would belatedly announce themselves to me.

I woke at some ungodly hour the following morning, trundled down to the dining area and had a hearty breakfast. A quick check on the weather and conditions – today would be good, tomorrow rubbish. I went back upstairs and informed Adrian I had a plan. Adrian arrived downstairs to hear my plan which in a nut shell was Tower Ridge, now or never, let’s do it. We reviewed our gear and considered the route, the load was lightened and we took Adrian’s 50m ropes. We started late but made a lot of time up on the walk-in and were at the base of the climb sometime between 10:00hrs and 10:30hrs.

A quick solo up Douglas Gap East Gully (I) and we were at the base of the “awkward” chimney. Still a bit shaky from the previous day I almost backed out of leading it but Adrian talked me round and it was felt best to get it out of my system. The chimney succumbed fairly quickly after I realised there was a nice chunky hand hold to be had out left and got stuck in with some hefty boot jamming.

Adrian soon joined me at the belay and we decided to move together with Adrian in the lead. Up the ridge we went, taking the first steepening on its right flank. This started with a small ice pitch and thereafter was consolidated snow. We stormed up this, stopping at the first levelling for a quick break and photo call. I probably ate something; I usually do given the slightest opportunity. I took the lead again taking The Little Tower on its left flank which included a small icy pitch at a slightly steeper section. At a small levelling I found some good gear and set a belay up, as it was not obvious what was ahead. Adrian led off and was soon near the base of The Great Tower.

Before I set off, a guided party caught-up to us. The guide asked if he could pass us. I foolishly agreed as I wanted to stop for a sandwich anyway. Off I set soon joining Adrian on a nice level area and tucked in. Adrian asked a good question when I told him what I had agreed too, “why”? I had no good answer other than I did not want another team hanging off our coat tails. After a longer than expected wait disaster struck as a “fast” party barged through and took up position at the Eastern Traverse belay. “Oh fudge cake”, or words to that effect I thought. Then the guide came bundling through and climbed past the “fast” party who hadn’t managed to start the Eastern Traverse yet. [AF: We later realised that these parties had sneaked up on us by eliminating the Douglas Gap via the eastern slopes which are striaghtforward in the conditions of the day. That's perfectly fine, but it fooled us into thinking they were moving very fast.]

Prior to this we had been on target for a six hour ascent time despite taking it easy and stopping for minor photo shoots... Oh hum, after a protracted wait the “fast” party cleared the Eastern Traverse. Game on again. Adrian blasted up to the Eastern Traverse’s starting point and established a belay. I led round the Eastern Traverse and soon caught up to Team Speedy at the exit chimney. I quickly belayed Adrian up after Team Light Speed had cleared the area. Gear was exchanged and Adrian led out of the exit chimney which included a very committing pull on a single axe placement; with the required commitment and skill Adrian pulled up and off he went. When I followed the stiff pull still felt committing as a second. Good lead Adrian.

After joining Adrian at the belay my heart sank, Speedy Gonzales and co were huddled together in Tower Gap, by the looks of it they were having a moment or maybe an hour! Getting impatient I sauntered down to Tower Gap just as the leader got the nerve to exit the gap. At last the leader set his belay up and the second then spent about 30 minutes making an easy bit of climbing look like a grade VII epic. Getting even more impatient, I loudly mumbled “for fudge cakes sake how hard can it be” or words to that effect. In the end I climbed down in to the gap to give a hint to the Frank Spencer of the winter climbing world. As I set our belay up dithering second was still in the Gap, scratching his way to sanctuary. In the end he managed his escape. God only knows how.

Adrian was soon in the gap and we again switched gear putting Adrian in the lead for the exit, which he quickly and competently dispatched. He swarmed up the slope to the final levelling and belayed me up to join him. Then we moved together up the final rise to summit at almost 18:00hrs exactly. Right on queue the clouds descended and we had to navigate off the plateau the traditional way. Not bad as I had budgeted up to 10 hours for an ascent and it had taken us 7 ½ to 8 hours to do.

Adrian worked out a bearing and a guesstimate pacing to get us onto the exit bearing from our position and, wow, within a pace or two we landed bang on top of one of the summit cairns, from here navigation was quite straight forward. We decided to walk straight to the youth hostel; Norman would give Adrian a lift back to car park the following morning to collect his car.

We arrived back to the hostel at about 21:15hrs. Norman’s friend Gill had cooked a stir fry for us which down rather well with some single malt and red wine.

I will never let a party pass me again on a winter route, if they get held up tough luck. They have a few options: get fitter; get up earlier to beat me to the route or pick another route altogether. Letting the group through added an extra two hours to our summit time.

However, on a brighter note the route was truly epic on an Alpine scale. We had great conditions, weather, views and we climbed well together. This was one of, if not the, best climbing experiences I’ve had. Also this was the first “big” winter/Alpine style routes either of us had done without a guide, so the sense of achievement was immense. This day will live us with for a long time.

Bring that glass of single malt on and a goodly portion of haggis, neeps and tatties from The Clachaig Inn if you get down in time, which unfortunately we didn’t.

Appendices

Sunrise – Sunset Details
Date	Sunrise	Sunset	Duration
07/03/2010	06:54	18:04	11h 10m 07s
08/03/2010	06:51	18:06	11h 14m 46s
09/03/2010	06:48	18:08	11h 19m 25s
10/03/2010	06:46	18:10	11h 24m 04s
11/03/2010	06:43	18:12	11h 28m 43s
12/03/2010	06:41	18:14	11h 33m 23s
13/03/2010	06:38	18:16	11h 38m 03s

IMC assault 2010

The Route

Plan 9 from outer space

What actually happened

08/03/2010 - Attempt 1 - (lessons learnt and how not to tackle a classic mountain route)

09/03/20010 – Attempt 2 - How do a classic mountain route

Appendices

Guide Books:

Maps

Sources and recommended reading: