THE LONGEST DAY

Cubby enjoys an exciting summer solstice trip with one of the most pioneering Scottish climbers of recent times, Julian Lines.

What did you do for the summer solstice? The West Highland Way perhaps, or climb to the lofty summit of Britains highest mountain and watch the sunrise! Well at least for once it wasnt bucketing with rain. I had a memorable time.

One of the hardest routes on the Aberdeen coast is an E7 6c called Shere Khan, a climb with a chequered history because the locals are of the opinion that the first ascentionist never actually did it but that's another story.

Originally Shere Khan utilised four pegs for protection - most likely a legacy of the sport climbing era which began in the mid eighties in Scotland but the pegs interfered with some of the moves and were consequently removed. Pegs on sea cliffs are bad news at the best of times, as they corrode so quickly but in this case the climb is well protected with small wires.

Deep water soloing (DWS) has become all the rage on the Aberdeen sea cliffs (well at least two or three climbers into it), inspired no doubt by the activities taking place on the Dorset coast. The area's most fanatical protagonist is Julian Lines, who recently fulfilled a long ambition by soloing Bagheera, an early Dinwoodie test piece on the Red Tower at Murdoch Head.

For those of you, who like myself, have an aversion to all things aquatic or, are not au fait with DWS, there is a special grading system that reflects the seriousness of the climb. This takes into account not so much the difficulty of the climb itself, although this is important when above a bad landing, rather what lurks beneath the surface of the water. Pointed blocks, garnished with limpets and barnacles for example, or ledges that are only just covered at very high tide.

Other factors that present cause for concern include how steeply the cliff drops into the sea. In other words if it overhangs at an acute angle, then you'll simply drop into the water, should you lob off that is. However, a real danger exists where a cliff slopes out at its base or is slightly convex. This situation dictates considerable control because the climber has to make a conscious effort to push themselves out from the rock at the point when they think that they might take to the air.

The grading system also takes into account the length of a fall, which goes from S (for seriousness) 1, 2 or 3, grade 3 being the most serious. The climbs on the Red Tower are relatively short, about 15 metres but they are not that steep and may possibly be rated S2 or even S3.

As I needed to get photos for next year's Scottish climbing calendar, Jules suggested that I at least come over and have a look around the Aberdeen sea cliffs. Shere Khan was another of Jules' ambitions and was high on his list of "things to do" for this year. He'd already taken the plummet so he was quite confident to attempt the route as long as the wind was coming from the west and the tide was high enough!

I liked the idea, so on the morning of June 21 we left Aviemore. It was cold, windy and overcast which is not the forecast we expected but then what's new! At least the wind direction was north westerly. At Long Haven it was grim and it started to rain. The whole idea behind the photo was to capture a sunny, holiday image with Jules dressed in swimming trunks and chalk bag, not to mention his latest hair do, caressing the "hallowed" red granite with the glistening sea below. We retired to a cafe in a typically dour north east town and had a rethink.

Every climbing area has its own character and peculiar charm but the Aberdeen coast on a grey, dull day, with the wind blowing a hoolie is not the most inspirational of venues to find yourself. The cafe owner was an American who smacked of somebody who had lost everything to the oil boom, met a local and set himself up in a small business. He was nice enough and chatty but his overpriced coffee and twee decor contradicted the real America. I was both curious and intrigued to see that he had adopted a typically "thrifty" north east trait - or is being stingy just a Scottish thing in general?

The coast was also a flight path for helicopters transporting workers to and from North Sea drilling platforms which contributed to the unusual ambience. Jules was looking a bit fed up, while I was thinking not another photo flop. "I'm getting tired of Scotland, I haven't got the tolerance I used to have," I said turning to Jules, who couldn't agree more. This was not what either of us had in mind I thought, sitting clad in duvets with the wind buffeting the car!

Nothing ventured, nothing gained was a figure of speech that I was learning to detest but we decided to go and have a look anyway. We packed our sacks and started walking when all of a sudden the clouds parted, the sun shone and the sea sparkled. Everything came to life, including Jules. The transformation was incredible.

The timing was perfect because high tide was not due for another hour and the wall was still in the sun. This gave me a chance to scope out some camera angles, while Jules warmed up. Removed from the busy Peterhead road, this stretch of coastline, north of Aberdeen was actually very scenic and colourful, with a great variety of sea life and nesting birds.

When we arrived at the cliff top, Jules, rather excitedly showed me some of his latest exploits. "Yeah, that one is XS 6a, S1," pointing at a steeply overhanging wall beneath a beautiful little arch. "You can see a small pink scar where I pulled the jug off I was telling you about and plunged into the sea." We scrambled down to the top of the Red Wall on the seaward side of the arch. This is real north east coaster country, the domain of some of Aberdeen's finest who, over the generations, have left a legacy of test pieces, Hole in the Wall, Bagheera and Shere Khan, E5, E6 and E7 respectively.

As we lay on the cliff top and peered over the edge, I was surprised at the gentle angle. Not so much in climbing terms but more from taking a fall and clearing the cliff face, which was less than vertical. At E7 6c, the chances of lobbing off out of control and not being able to push out simultaneously from the rock, were quite high I thought. God! Imagine grating down that pitted granite and barnacle encrusted lower wall and then to have salt rubbed into your wounds - it did not seem like my idea of fun! I thought of a rescue strategy should things go wrong but dared not tell Jules, the deep thinking person that he is, in case I upset his psyche.

We both abseiled into position and Jules started to climb, steadily and in control. Looking through the lens of a camera isolates you from reality and before I knew it, Jules was at the halfway point, having completed the technical crux. Bridged out between the two-insipient tramline cracks, fingers pinching their inside edges, as if squeezing them together. He paused momentarily, chalked up, inhaled a deep breath and continued up the marginally easier next section.

He was now hyper ventilating as the sustained nature of the climbing culminated in another hard move. For a split second he hesitated and I thought he was off but he kept it together, still in control, controlled enough to kindly ask me to remove my foot from the crucial finishing hold! We had come here with an open mind, to photograph Bagheera but doing Shere Khan was a huge added bonus to him.

Jules was elated but could I get him to do Bagheera now? I felt like the Paparazzi but I knew ultimately that if Jules didn't want to climb he would say. Bagheera is to the right of Shere Khan, it is longer and at E6 6c, only slightly easier. Looking at the two I thought that it was the more serious, for a ramp slants in at 45 degrees beneath the foot of the climb. Once Jules had calmed down and rested he said that he was quite happy to give it a go.

It was only a week or so previously that he had managed to do Bagheera for the first time. An achievement described by Wilson Moir as a "defining moment in Scottish deep water soloing". The problem with good climbers is that you can never tell how close to losing control they really are but once Jules had wrapped his fingers around the good finishing holds I could almost feel his sense of relief. "I nearly blew it that time," he said nervously laughing to himself as he posed around on the 5b ground above.

Jules had three main objectives for the year - the solo Shere Khan, a repeat Origin of the Species on the Dubh Loch and to complete a new route, the whereabouts of which I'm sworn to secrecy. So with one down and the forecast for the next day looking like it was worth the gamble, we joined Tim Rankin at the Lock Muick car park and cycled in, having somewhat reluctantly fed two pounds into a shiny new Aberdeenshire Council ticket machine!

"So when was the last time you were at the Dubh Loch?" I had already given some thought to Tim's inevitable question but I had no excuse and rather ashamedly admitted, "twenty years ago, when I did the second ascent of Slartibartfast and Bombadillo with Duncan McCallum." In fact the weather was superb and we could have ticked the whole crag but Duncan had had enough and "needed" to get back to Edinburgh. Slarty was probably the Dubh Loch's hardest route then and I always remember spending ages in the blistering heat, trying to find the crucial runner because Hamilton would not tell me its size, type or whereabouts.

Origin of the Species was put up in 1996 by Paul "the Stork" Thorburn, one of Scotland's leading exponents in adventurous, mountain cragging. Like so many of Scotland's young talent, Paul has fallen victim to that scourge of the Highlands, no not the old amber nectar but access and offshore work. Aren't they all so sensible these days?

At E6 6b, Origin is one of the most impressive routes in the area but as Jules has acquired the reputation as the undisputed next generation of Cairngorm devotees, the climb should not pose too many problems, despite a rumour by Gary Latter (Paul's partner on the first ascent) that it could be E7! Essentially Origin climbs the right arete of The Naked Ape on Central Gully Wall, a part of the cliff that offers very exposed climbing with heaps of atmosphere. It then rosses the Naked Ape to a steep finishing groove.

Jules is not renowned for his strength on steep routes (although he's not exactly lacking) so if he was going to have a hard time, it would be on that top groove. As for the rest, well he's been soloing a lot and climbing very confidently and the occasional runner can only be seen as an added bonus! Tim led the 5b intro pitch. Jules followed, sorted out the gear and worked his way up some interesting grooves to a point where a right traverse above some impressive overhangs led to the start of the arete and the first real difficulties.

It looked fantastic and for the first time in a while I wished I was climbing and not taking photos. The climbing looked thin and varied, with an emphasis on good footwork and evidently only adequately protected. Jules made steady progress, climbing cautiously but committing himself without hesitation. He was soon at the Naked Ape traverse, with the first of the climb's two cruxes beneath. Now he was confronted by the steep finishing groove, "good old Storky," he murmured to himself. "This bit is no doubt for me!"

As predicted Jules had a bit of a tussle in the groove, no doubt apprehensive at the thought of failing so close to the belay. Up and down he climbed. At times his frustration was expressed rather vocally and his shouts could be heard clearly as they echoed across the Central Gully Wall and even the other side of the loch! The groove took Jules as long to climb as it did getting there but he managed to do it without falling off which is the main thing.

Looking rather like the cat that just licked the cream, he belayed and brought up Tim, who by now was shivering from the cold. "6b every move - outrageous, you mad bastard!" Tim expressing himself and clearly enjoying being tied to the "other" end of the rope. Jules asked if I would like a rope. Tempted, I had to decline for it would have been sacrilege to have followed such a heady lead, so I promised myself that I would come back another day.

Jules didn't quite manage to do his new route that week. Fifteen falls from the technical crux before rain finally stopped play and comments like "the most inspired piece of climbing I've ever seen" (Laurance Hughes holding the ropes) - are testament to one the great Cairngorm pioneers of recent times.

Cubby
12/7/2001

Read more about Julian's recent exploits in Hot Rock