The Swiss Alps..........not long now!

Well......
Tomorrow I set off on my travels to Switzerland. Though due to staying in an airport hotel thing we don't actually get there until Sunday, where I shall be heading up the cog railway to Leysin to meet the guides and participants on the ISM student alpine week. Here I will learning all the skills needed for mountaineering in the alps and throughout the week we should be doing all sorts from: Rock Climbing, to Ice Climbing to Crevasse Rescue. We should also be summiting a 3300 metre peak, which will be the highest I've been so far. While I'm doing all of this Mum and Dad will be going around Switzerland on the train. In the second week we will then be heading over to Lucerne a beautiful Swiss city laying under Mount Pilatus. Don't know what I will be doing in that week, but I'm shall I'll find stuff to do. Hopefully we will visit Zermatt where there are stunning views of the Matterhorn aswell as going up the Cog railway where we will see the highest Northface in the alps....The Northwall of the Eiger. Pretty excited about that. Anyway the down side to this beautiful country though is that everything is likely to be ridiculously expensive. So it will unlikely that we'll be eating out on this holiday, but thats alright because we are staying in a house with this guy who owns a pub in Lucerne and there will be self catering facilities. I am pretty excited about this whole thing. I'm still getting over my last holiday in the Picos de Europa, where I went up Pena Vieja at 2613m the highest mountain I have been up to date aswell explored other mountains in the area. Its in places like that where I am in my element!

Anyway will post about the course when I am in Lucerne at the start of second week (this is previding the internet cafes and too expensive!), and will perhaps post about my second week towards the end. I remember in Potes in the Picos it worked out at about 50p for 30minutes internet time, but it some how seems unlikely in Switzerland.

Keep an eye open for any news.....

Ethan

What I've been up to recently.......

Have been up to various bits and bobs recently. The weather has been fairly restrictive in terms of getting outside climbing but I have been doing quite a bit at Kendal wall. Have also been doing a bit of running. I also took part in slightly different activity to usual with Calum and Fergus, camping in the forest (the natural way, despite the saucepan pasta). I have the odd photo below if you're interested.
Have also got hold of a second hand bouldering mat for when the weather picks up a bit. Headed down to Coudy Rocks in Appleby on Tuesday, but the boggy ground meant my shoes were too slippy on the rock to do anything other than easy grades, with large foot holds. Still at least I completed one boulder problem even though it was rather easy 'In the Corner' V2, I filmed it though so put it up.

An evening run across the pennines.

This is one of the joys of living in Cumbria. A 10 minute drive/40 minute cycle and I am at the foot of the North Pennines. Certainly one of the countries most spectacular and quite probably most underated mountain ranges.

Joely (my sister) had a friend over called Hannah. Hannah goes to the same uni as Joely in London but is from Norway. I took them up Scafell Pike. It was my 5th time as the highest person in the country but there first.

The mighty buttress of Sca Fell Englands 2nd highest peak taken from Scafell Pike

Preparing tea

We all decided that we would try and 'live off the land' for a night. You can tell by the photo that we weren't quite successful, as I'm pictured next to Fergus cooking pasta but it was over a camp fire though (however that was lit using a fire lighter and some dry kindling from back home)! But it was hard enough keeping it going in these camp conditions. Me and Calum finished our shelter after tea (pictured below). They were surprisingly water tight. We were quite envious of fergus at first as he had a very comfy bed of moss, while we had only fern. But I was secretly rather amused to find that our simple bed of firn had dried out by the fire, while Fergus' moss held its and then soak his sleeping bag when he lay on it! Thanks for a great night guys and the photos Calum (better late than never!).

The completed shelters

Sorry I had to remove the video to stop it messing up the page!

The rain had finally stopped, so I went to Coudy Rock in Appleby to try and use my bouldering mat, before it came back again. The rock was dry, but the ground certainly wasn't. This meant my shoes weren't dry enough to do anything too technical and grippy. But I did manage to do 'In the corner' a nice little V2 with usable foot holds. Only slipped once! 

The Yomp

On Sunday, I took part in the YOMP. Last year I completed the 23 mile course in 5 hours 47mins, mainly walking and the odd bit off running (in heavy walking boots). I did however receive the 'Hellgill cup' a few months later in the post for the fastest 16 and under male in the full Yomp. This year I had the intention to mainly run it.

I arrived quite late and registered. I was stopped on my way out by women from mountain rescue telling me that they're would temperatures on the summits of -5 with gusts as well so I needed a following list of items which I hadn't brought. One of the other people from Kirby Stephen Mountain Rescue took me across the road to their base where they happily leant me a waterproof jacket and a 'Lowe Alpine' Bum bag. I was treated particularly nice seen as I had been so stupid to come so un prepared.

I set off not long after. I ran the first half relatively well, mainly walking on the steepest parts as 'tactics', so I didn't exhaust myself for later. After running down Wild Boar fell and checking in at the half way point I had clocked a time of 1 hour 55 mins, not a bad time really, considering it was the steepest part of the course. After that though I was lacking energy. Running on any ascent at all seemed to be pretty difficult and even the flats were getting harder. I hadn't had very much for breakfast, only a cereal bar, mainly relying on the fact I had stuffed myself on Pasta the night before. However I soon needed more energy and my hands were so numb, if I touched one, I couldn't tell if it were my hand or my fleece without looking. This made it very hard to open up my Bum bag and get out the 'fun' sized mars bars I had picked up from the refreshments after registration. Luckily they're were plenty of Marshals about and one very kindly took of her wooly mitts and got them out for me. When I saw them I remembered reading the book 'Feet in the Clouds' by Richard Askwith, where he was handed to 'fun sized' Mars bars by his friend after a long run over the Lakeland fells, with the comment "They would be a lot more fun if they were twice big." At the point I read that I remember thinking "Why bring them instead of a full sized one?" Yet here I was opening two 'fun sized' Mars bars half way up a hill in the cold. The temperature seemed to be more like 5 degrees C with a wind chill of about 3 below. Which probably makes sense seen as it was about 9 degrees C in the valleys.

By about 3 quarters of the way through the course, I was reduced to no more than a walk and a little trot down the hills. Even walking up the steep bits was tiring enough and Running on the flats was exhausting. By the time I got to Nine Standards and the guy said the rest is downhill I suddenly heard myself go 'Yey!' I was soon annoyed at myself for sounding so incredibly wimpish. The Down hill bit was much harder than I'd have thought. Pains in my stomach had me walking quite often. Luckily they're was one last check point where I could take a swig of water and that seemed to help the pains a bit, so I could at least run with it. It was about 40 minutes before i had made it to Kirby Stephen. And a further 8 minutes before I was back at the School. With an over all course time of 4 hours 52 minutes.

So I had a time I was relatively happy with and in theory the fastest 16 and under. However when I asked the organisers said they couldn't present me with the Hellgill cup, as they are not supposed to encourage competitive running over that distance anymore. However they might quietly send it me in the post like last year.

Thanks for reading,

Ethan

Finally...... My First Trad Climb.

This Tuesday I met up with Adam, we were planning to get the train from Appleby down to the Dales the next day and do some sport climbs. But as Adam was staying at my house the night before to get a good start in morning. I was keen, while adam was here, to head up one of the routes at Jackdaw Scar, and do my first ever lead of a trad route. In traditional climbing the climber has to jam bits of gear into cracks in the rock to attach the rope to as he/she goes up the rock face. This requires above anything a sound mind. It isn't like sport climbing where bolts have already been drilled firmly into the rock ready to clip straight into. When you're climbing a trad route you as the climber have to look out for yourself constantly. A badly placed bit of gear could rip straight out of the rock in the event of a fall, potentially leaving you to fall to your death. 

A photo taking from google images a hex placed in a crack

I chose a fantastic looking route called 'Kirsten Wall'. It is graded as a 'Hard Severe' this is arguably quite a hard grade to lead my first ever trad climb on, I had top roped it once in the past placing gear as I went up, but I remember having to hang on the rope at points whilst I fiddled around getting gear in the rock. However since then I had practiced my gear placement quite a bit and I was now putting it to the test. But this time if I got tired I wouldn't be able to hang on the rope as it wouldn't be attached at the top. I would have to down climb and rest on a bit of gear that might not even hold.
For some reason though I didn't think about this outcome to much. I knew if it came down to it I could get out that kind of situation, but for now needed to stay positive.  

          I started up it relatively easily. I was feeling very ready. I had been waiting for this moment for quite a while and it was finally happening. After placing a nut, I climbed up the first section onto the sandstone ledge. Above me stood 12 metres of Limestone. It had numerous cracks in it. I still wasn't sure whether I would get up it. I remembered the mess I made of it on a top rope only a month or two ago. I soon blocked the thought out, if I wanted to get up it I needed to be as calm as possible. I knew that I could climb the route. I just needed to make quick, reliable gear placements and most importantly stay cool and keep a clear mind. I jammed a hex in the crack, I was confident in the placement and I knew that if I did fall on to the sandstone ledge at least I wouldn't topple further of that and fall a further 4 metres onto the hard nettle filled ground below me.
          It wasn't long before I had placed another two bits of gear and was already getting a decent way up the route. I was finding plenty of resting spots. I was certainly nervous, but at the same time very calm. I was soon half way up. I was in a good position and soon the excitement of completing my first trad climb was beginning to kick in, this reduced the nerves even more. I felt a strong connection with the rock all of a sudden. I had never felt this before. This is something that certainly indoor climbing and even sports climbing has never given me. I thought of all the trad climbers I had read about. Chris Bonington, Don Whillans, Dave Mcleod and so on. I though of a time when all the gear, clipped on my harness ready to use, simply didn't exist. When chock stones would carefully be jammed into rocks, and of the climbers who would steel 'genuine' nuts from train tracks to use as gear at the crag. I suddenly felt part of not only a tradition but a culture. I continued on. I was approaching the last few moves. I placed a hex in the rock, it seemed a descent placement, not great but the best I could, I climbed on and got to another good resting place, I was trying to slot a nut in a horizontal crack, but I couldn't quite see it. It wouldn't go in and my left arm that had been holding on to the hold above me was beginning to fill with lactic acid. I still didn't panic. I simply just switched hands, shook my arm a bit and when I had gained back some strength in it, I continued to try and get the nut in. Suddenly it just went straight in. I gave it a good tug to see if it would stay, and it did. I only had one more move to the top. I just went for it. On top of the crag was a big tree with a huge root growing directly above the route. My hand touched it. I had done it!
Adam walked up round the back of the crag and gave me the belay device. I attached the sling to the tree at the top and abseiled down the route taking the gear out the rock on my way down. The abseil in itself was thoroughly enjoyable. I had just done my first ever trad climb. Not a complex route, but an important one for me. One I will always remember. 

I have recently done a whole load of other things that I haven't had time to write about............

• Ran a kendal 10k race a few weeks back
• Couple of runs up Murton Pike
• Run up Langdale Pikes at Langdale charity Folk Festival
• Saw a Chris Bonington Lecture at Keswick Mountain Festival
• Joined Howgill Harriers running club
• Practiced placing gear around Jackdaw Scar
• Numerous time spent on boats in rivers and lake in the hot weather
• Sport Climb in the Dales with Adam the following day

Thanks for reading,

Ethan

"Hills", "Fells", "Mountains" and Blog Addresses

You may have noticed for a short time I had changed my blog URL to 'ethans exploits' rather than 'fell feet'. I was a bit worried about calling my Blog URL 'fellfeet' as I thought it was becoming irrelevant, as I wanted to write about my climbing and running just as much. I was also concerned that when I go climbing and mountaineering in other countries, the term 'fell' is a typically English term for hill. In fact it is a bit of a strange term isn't it?
            Many English outdoorsy types would call smaller hills a 'hill' and larger hills a 'fell'. Then you get people who say that hills in Britain are to small to be called a 'mountain' even though there is not a specific height where a 'hill' becomes a 'mountain'. On the total opposite end of the spectrum you get people who would give all 'mountains' the term 'hill' even Everest.
           For a time I wondered what to call the hills in Britain. Speaking to some people I would sometimes feel I was over exaggerating if I called a British hill a 'mountain'. Yet on the other hand the experiences I have had, in the hills of Britain (mostly in England), have never seemed small or insignificant. I think there becomes a point when a British hillwalker or runner starts to lose interest in the height of the hill they stand on. I know I am not as fussed anymore. When I stand on the summit of a mountain in the Lake District, I don't think "Well how high's this one then". I don't get the map out just to see what the altitude is. I look at the views and I see the distant peaks. I name the fells I know and love and get pleasure in knowing that there are still plenty, sitting above or below where I am standing, that I do not know and have yet to summit. And sometimes  I'm overwhelmed simply by the silence. Where else in this country can you hear absolutely nothing at all other than the sound of the wind and your own breath? It makes me feel like an accomplished human being. No matter what height the summit is I stand on I know that there are plenty of people my age and older, sitting at ground level in a sofa playing on a games console or watching TV.  I think that is the pleasure of the British hills. Yes, it's true, by international standards our mountains are nowhere near the biggest. I look at some mountains in parts of the world, like ones in the Himalayas and the Alps and they scream the word "challenge" at me even just by looking at the photographs. Perhaps, to the eyes of a sherpa or an alpine guide, a Lake District fell shows little challenge. Our typical mountain is round and covered in grass and bracken, while their mountains are pointy and covered in ice, snow and rock. But there is certainly at lot of challenge to be had in the hills of Britain, it sometimes just has to be discovered. The challenge can be just as big to one person, who is walking up one hill on a clear day, to someone else who is running over many tops in a complete whiteout. And even if sometimes a small walk in the hills doesn't seem particularly energetic, is it ever without adventure?
        There is something for everyone in the hills of Britain. And I call them "fells". This isn't because I think they are too small to be called a "mountain" or because they're too big to be called a "hill", it's because they are unique and they deserve their own name. So I decided there is no reason at all not to call my blog address 'fell feet'. And if I am in a different country and if the question somehow pops up "why did you call your blog 'fellfeet'?" Then I shall say "because that is what the mountains in England are called and they're where I found my feet for adventure."

Thanks for reading,
Ethan

P.S it did also occur to me that when 'Ethan's Exploits' is written as one "ethansexploits" it could well be interpreted as 'Ethan Sexploits". I looked the term 'sexploit' up in a dictionary and here is what I found...........

Sexploitation
noun informalthe commercial exploitation of sex, sexual attractiveness, or sexually explicit material.

Arguably the wrong word to use in the address of a blog about outdoor activities?

Climbing at Coudy Rock - Appleby

The sky was one of mixed messages. Every so often we would feel the sun beam down on our face, we would look up and find an amazing blue sky directly above us. Instantly I would find myself envisaging a great day out at the crag. But it wasn't long before I caught sight of a nasty looking cloud gracefully drifting over towards, like a lioness sneaking up on an gazelle. Perhaps this wasn't the best day to go out, on what was after all a sandstone crag. It would be dirty enough as it was, even if it did remain dry. However we were only going to Appleby so it wasn't going to matter too much if it did start chucking it down. I had heard a lot about Coudy rock, a crag just by the river eden with various sports routes bolted up it, and I was quite excited about the thought of finally going to it.

Sports climbing is a relatively modern style of climbing, where bolts are already drilled into the rock, ready for the climber to attach the rope to via quickdraws. It is becoming increasingly popular in the UK and is considered the main style of climbing in many areas of europe. Climbers don't need to worry the same about the safety of the route as they would in trad climbing, where climbers place the protection themselves by jamming gear into the rocks. In sports climbing, climbers can concentrate on the technicality of the climb, without concern for how well protected they are.

We arrived at about 11:30. I uncoiled the rope and lay it out on the ground in front of what appeared to be an easy route. I was going first and I seemed quite calm about the whole thing. The route can't have been more than 7 metres high and looked like it had many nice big jugs to hold onto. I tied in, stuck my ipod on and headed straight up. It would seem I didn't even take into account that it was sandstone and it was covered in dirt and lacked many jugs, in fact most the holds seemed to be slopers and to make things worse small overhangs (although not having to much effect on the difficulty of the climb) obstructed my view of the holds above and it wasn't long before I was heading back down to take my ipod off and start treating the climb more seriously. After about 10 minutes battling with the route, I finally made it to the top. I descended quickly and we soon move on to the next route along, this time Adam climbed. We continued to work our way left along the crag, until we finally got onto the main wall. Here the climbing suddenly got interesting. The main challenge was in the actual route, instead of it being in the dirt layering the rock or grabbing a handhold that wouldn't brake away. These routes had been climbed a few time and chalk marks were all over it from where other climbers had been.

The day continued in this fashion, we lounged around on the grass looking at the river, in between climbs and then would head up the odd route. The rain didn't come and the sun would occasionally come out from the clouds and warm up our backs. Dad came along later with the camera and took some photos. I thought about teaching him how to belay on a top rope, but then remembered that he goes loose at the knees when people are in high up places, and thought it was best to teach him another day. After all I thought he was doing well taking photos without panicking about how strong the rope was or any of the other things that could possibly happen.

Thanks for reading.

Climbing with a Cold

I was running fast, as I veered away from my house and set of down the track, but not quite fast enough. I finally got onto the road and continued to run, it was suddenly starting to feel much harder. I had only just begun the run. A mere 2 miles of running on the flats and then downhill had slowed my pace dramatically. As ventured along the road and into the village, it almost felt like I was running up a long, steep hill. I was trying to think of any other reason why I was feeling like this. "Perhaps I had started to fast" or "Perhaps I didn't drink enough before setting off?". But it was no use searching for any other answers. I knew why and I would have to except. I had yet another cold, despite having only recently recovered from my 4th cold of the winter. I had been trying to tell myself it had just been a sore throat or something. I had just had a great few weeks of running after school. Runs ranging from 2-13 miles and on all of them I had been pleased with my performance beating my regular 1 hour run by a further 2 mins.
Now I would have to rest and hope I would be fit again in a few days. I ran back up to my house at what felt like a snail's speed.

Jackdaw Scar

                I decided that if I couldn't run I would climb. After all that is what I really love doing, but I just don't get the opportunity as much. There is a lot to be said for leaving your house and running out through the fields as the sun sets on the distant fells, but for me nothing quite competes with climbing, when it comes to focusing on the task ahead and keeping a clear head. The nearest crag is 'Jackdaw Scar' I have been there a few times, hoping to find some boulder problems to create. But the Sandstone base of the crag doesn't provide anything of particular interest when it comes to bouldering and I find myself often gazing up at the higher limestone in frustration and going away with an even stronger burning desire to get hold of some nuts, cams, hexes and slings and start trad climbing. However this time I managed to do bits of climbing on the crag. The routes didn't offer very much in terms of training, but offered me a lot mentally. A chance to unwind after school, listen to the running water from the beck and breathe the fresh air. They weren't particularly technical but required that focus and state of mind needed in climbing.  So after feeling low for failing in my run, I had found my high for the day at Jackdaw scar, a perfect place to spend the evening, and feel closer to nature despite being no more than 60 metres away from civilisation.

My next bit of adventure was at Hutton Roof with Adam. Hutton Roof is a limestone crag not too far from Kendal and offers some great boulder problems. It has quite a few trad routes up it too, but it's only about 8 metres high so many of these can be climbed un roped with a crash mat underneath you. The crux of the climb was almost always in the first 4 or 5 metres and after that the angle relents to about 75 degrees with large handholds. My cold was now beginning to affect my general energy levels and I often found myself lying down in the shade after each climb and would leave Adam to wonder round trying out other problems for a while before I picked up the enthusiasm to join him again.

I spent the next few evenings after that climbing around Jackdaw Scar again. Then at the weekend joined Adam at Kendal Wall. We spent quite a decent amount of time bouldering before tying into the ropes and doing a few routes.

The day after I met up with Fergus and we went for a short stroll around the back of Dufton Pike up to Great Rundale Tarn, before strolling back down to the pub in Dufton for a coke. It is a bit odd that I should have had a cold this week. As even today which was supposed to be one of the worst this week, it hadn't rained for over a week and the sun was still shining brightly.

Today I did a bit of bouldering at Kendal Wall, as it it was now the official first day of my Easter Holiday. I could perhaps have gone for a run when I got back as I wasn't feeling as bad, but I was pretty tired from the 2 hours of climbing I had just done. Tomorrow though I will don my trainers and head out, I'll see what I can do, it might just be that my performance is fine and I can keep running for a good few miles up onto Orton Scar or I may have to make do with a lesser run until my Cold leaves me completely.

Thanks for reading.
Comments as always, are very welcome.

Ethan