Stone Country

In search of The Murder Hole

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 09:10:00 +0000

On a round of the rigs of Galloway Forest Park, via The Merrick and the glacial lochs of Enoch and Neldricken, we were intrigued by an OS reference to 'The Murder Hole', marked as a water feature in blue by Loch Neldricken. This is possibly an anglicized term for a feature once known in Gaelic, for the area was originally colonised by the Irish Gaels, as suggested by the toponym of Galloway itself, named after the medieval Gaelic 'Gallgaidelib' and referring to a 'land of the foreigners/Gaels' - 'Gall Ghaidhealaibh' in modern Gaelic.

Gaelic for murderer is 'murtair', so an anglicization is easy if this was a pool renowned for murderous drowning, though it seems a long way to go to drown someone - the Buchan burn gorge is a lot more accessible! It was, however, picked up by the writer Samuel Rutherford Crockett as a setting for his novel 'The Raiders', in which The Murder Hole eponymises a chapter.

'I was carried among them, and there, not twenty yards before me, like a hideous black demon's eye looking up at me, lay the unplumbed depths of the Murder Hole...'

The watery hole that Samuel Crockett refers to in his adventure tale is indeed a looped bay of peaty, black water of no insignificant depth of around 105 ft (32 metres). This was measured by the hillwalker J.McBain, author of the 1929 book 'The Merrick and the Neighbouring Hills - Tramps by Hill, Stream and Loch', by the bold method of tiptoeing out onto winter ice, cutting a hole and dropping a plumb-line.

Murder is an integral theme of these hills. The name Buchan (as in Buchan Hill, Dungeon of Buchan, Buchan Burn etc.) refers to the Earl of Buchan - a relative of John Comyn 'The Red', who was murdered by Robert Bruce on consecrated ground in a Dumfries chapel in 1306, as part of a long-running feud over rights to the crown between the Balliol-backed Comyns and the Bruce dynasty. Bruce's subsequent guerrilla war against Edward I and II included a victory at Glen Trool in 1307, and at nearby Claterringshaws, which set him on his way to eventual coronation after Bannockburn, 8 years later.

The naming of remote, moorland 'murder holes' (there are others in Galloway) is most likely a reference to murders perpetrated during the 'Killing Time' of the 1680s when Charles II and then James II brought murderous penalty to the cause of being a Covenanter and daring to interpret one's religion without a suitable intermediary (or spiritual landlord called a Bishop or Pope!). The religious persecution led to many high-profile deaths, but also many unrecorded but well-kent practices of murder in the Presbyterian south-west. Oral history relates tales of shepherds who would report finding murdered bodies on the moors, dumped in gullies or lochans or on the heather where they fell.

Which brings me to another possible toponymical interpretation of 'Murder Hole' and its actual physical feature in the landscape. Just above the entrance of the burn into Loch Neldricken, where the OS map notes the water feature of the Murder Hole, lies a distinct granite passageway (a geological fault) through which the burn pools and rumbles. You can stand on its edge and look down into its rocky throat and imagine it as a perfect 'murder hole' into which bodies could be dumped. Medieval castles often had a narrow passageway built leading to the main gate, with windows above known as 'murder holes', through which to fire arrows or pour pitch onto unsuspecting, or simply unfortunate, soldiers. So is this feature the original 'murder hole', before Crockett misinterpreted and fictionalized the deep pool of murder nearby?

February - Blue Skies at Craigmaddie

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 19:00:00 +0000

Took advantage of the high pressure drying out the gritty sandstone at Craigmaddie for a few hours bouldering before the skin could take no more. If anyone knows about Mason marks, have a look at the photo below and let me know what they mean. These marks are under the left sheep pen, next to (presumably) old quarriers' names 'A. Cairns' and 'J. Neilson'. I assume these guys, or colleagues, carved the mason marks onto the sheltered back walls of the caves, no doubt during long lunch breaks or wet days when they couldn't be bothered digging out the mill-stones.

Craigmaddie in wellies

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 16:24:00 +0000

The Plinth, Craigmaddie, Font 6c+

A perfect morning at Craigmaddie on Thursday 12th as the weather finally settles and the blue skies return. Warmed up on the lower roof lip traverse, trying not to slip off into the boggy gunk below. Then settled on the first 6c of the season, 'The Plinth' left hand version. It starts off the plinth, using the big block underneath for the feet, slap up the crimps on the shield, then a crux throw left for the sloper leads to a tricky one foot smear as you stare at the slopey ledge hold for the right hand. Not over yet, an easy-to-fail snatch for the top - a super problem and under-rated - feeling harder as the sandstone is still bleeding a little winter damp and my right hand kept flipping off.

Millstone circle or gnomon? What does the 'H' mean?

Reading up on Craigmaddie Muir, it has some interesting hidden history. Not only is there evidence of Neolithic and Bronze/Iron Age tombs and settlement, this is all confused by an overlay of millstone quarrying. I found some interesting symbols under the big roof, mason marks of all sorts, next to the names A. Cairns and J.Neilson and an unfinished 18** date inscribed on the rock. Must check Bardowie cemeteries for masons...

Cogwheel pits

On the plateau are dozens of quarried 'cogwheel' pits distinctive of millstone quarrying. Holes would have been flooded with water and wooden splints inserted under the semi-carved stones. The water would swell the wooden wedges and snap off fully-formed millstones. The quarriers also had a mischievous bent, as there are 'fairy' carvings all over the place, including an Egyptian-style 'eye', a gnomon circle (or millstone peck-tracing), mason marks, names, mysterious 'H' marks, faces on the Auld Wives Lifts (and lots of Victorian graffiti), and even a 'fairy footprint' in the rock, a bit like the King's Footprint at Dunadd, but obviously moulded on a size 6 welly boot... or perhaps this was the ancient seat of a lost kingdom? I still haven't found the reputed serpent carved in a plinth and reported in an old archaeological survey.

Fairy welly print...

Losing the apostrophe on Ben A'an

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 12:16:00 +0000

This well-trodden nub of steepness in the Trossachs is anglicized into Gaelic, if you can think of it like that. That tourist board poet Walter Scott, re-imagining the Trossachs as a heroic Celtic heartland, heard the original name 'Beannan' (small mountain) and came up with 'Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare'. Then, at some point, an apostrophe was added, I can find out no reason why other than to suggest a kind of imagined Gaelic by a confused OS surveyor or Victorian poets and guide-book writers trying to suffuse an element of throatiness into this tiny, confused and very simple peak. A bit like the 'h' in 'Rhum', it should just be sawn off at the stump.

After the storms on the Ben An path...

'Am Binnean' is the most accurate original guess ('small pointed peak') and the Gaels have always erred on the side of simple topographical description and human lives were generally too short, violent and irrelevant to christen hills otherwise. Timothy Pont's maps all had Gaelic names mis-translated into the more restrictive throat of English and to this day the English alphabet struggles to suggest the richness of the timbre in Gaelic, hence maybe the guilt over Ben An and the adding of the apostrophe. Older maps of the peak bracket it as 'Binnein' and we should stick to this, or 'Am Binnean'. If we do have to anglicize it, just go the whole hog and call it Ben An, with no mysterious and confusing retro-Gaelicization.

It was well windy up here on the 7th January and at the top, struggling hard to keep the camera steady, I could feel all those apostrophes flying uselessly through the air...

Northwest New Year

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 11:29:00 +0000

A week in Ullapool over New Year saw us staring out of rain-lashed sash windows, or sqeezing blustery walks in between painful hail showers. Constant winds had brought up an impressive surf at the normally placid Achnahaird.

I even tried to crank out the aptly named Clach Mheallain (Gaelic for 'hailstones') at Reiff in the Woods, racing to get myshoes on before the approaching storm, but fingers grew too numb and my boulder mat flipped over in my face - game over! a few boggy trots hunting down boulders led to one entertaining cleaning session in a full-on rain storm, which was like scrubbing a filthy land-rover in a jet-wash.

Rogie Falls in spate

A week of storms throughout the country has led to the most saturated ground I've seen in Scotland, rock didn't stand a chance of drying in the bitter winds. We retired to the Ullapool Bouldering Wall, trying hard not to pull down Ian's carefully constructed training boards after too many pints and pies.

Corrieshalloch Gorge was the most impressive feature, in full flow and pretending (bar a few tens of degrees) to be something out of a tropical Jurassic period...

So on to 2012, we are due a high pressure or two and dare I say it, I am sick of the sight of the TCA!

Boulder Britain - a bolder guide

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 20:36:00 +0000

You know those people who push peanuts up a hill with their nose? Or Sisyphus rolling his rock? Such is the magnitude of the task and the strain on sanity which Niall Grimes was prepared to shoulder millenia ago, it seems, when the idea of a 'British Bouldering Guide' was a cute little puppy of a concept. Of course, it grew into a slavering beast of a project. And this colourful beast - the first and only bouldering guide to Britain (all 488 pages) - is now amongst us, like a bright new boulder that just materialised at your favourite venue. The book is, to quote a word Grimer likes, 'stunning'. Stunning rocks, stunning photos, landscapes to drool over, evening sunlight hitting rock... I could meander amongst its pages for hours, which is precisely what I did, throwing mental shapes and moves over all those lovely boulders.

Scotland is given a page or two per major venue, and this whistle-stop approach is general throughout the book. It is a mammoth task and Niall has performed miracles of editorial concision to give us the best each venue has to offer. The variety of bouldering represented is terrific, you get a real taste of Britain's geological smorgasbord, and the 180 venues have over 3,200 classic problems described with clean, sunny topos and clear approach maps.

Not only does the guide do what a guide is supposed to do, it is perhaps the most entertainingly written climbing guide I have ever picked up. Each page will raise a smile - just reading the history of the Langdale boulders will give you a taste of how refreshingly free from earnest, grade-chasing, navel-gazing is this book...bouldering is meant to be fun and Niall seems to have understood that message. Whether you are a solitary, heather-tramping, mat-hauler or a communal, gritstone Sunday picnicker, the guide covers all tastes and communicates the various characters of our rocks and our strange fascination with pebble pilates.

The production quality is to die for and Niall has no doubt spent many long nights embedded in the intricacies of Adobe software, or howling at the moon when a lovingly traced map crashes without a save... the sheer bloody-mindedness needed to produce something this good-looking would put creationists to shame: it is a sophisticated, technicolour creature that has evolved fully-formed out of the primordial swamps, magma chambers and silent seabeds of our geological past.

Of course, it is a book produced by the 'community of the realm' of boulderers and woudn't exist but for the obscure passion of multifarious souls who ditch all to huddle sniffling under a damp overhang waiting for a few square inches of rock to dry. Niall rightly sets the book in this context and, as some kind of beneficient overseer or scribe, has diligently pulled it all together into a biblical work of dedication. This 'good book' should really be the one handed out at Sunday schools around the country - go forth and clamber upon rocks, take thee this bible... perform your stations...

Amazing what a little paper, ink and a stony curiosity can produce - well done Niall, this book is all the richer for you taking it on. I am going for a long bath, and I may be some time... three cheers for Ape Index!

Support the poor wretch who went blind and starved and withered to bring you this feast:

Boulder Britain - what £25 was made for

Angus Glens bouldering

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 17:25:00 +0000

I think the Angus Glens (Doll and Clova etc) have got some terrific potential beyond the Red Craigs if you get a good breezy summer day and fancy a walk with the mat... which is obviously what these adventurous lads at Collective Productions have done. The teaser trailer has some terrific looking rock. I especially like 'Vanguard'. Bring on the full film!

Stone Country 'Bouldering in Scotland' news

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 10:21:00 +0000

I've been meaning to build a website of Scottish bouldering for ages, but it's a hell of a job and Scottish Climbs has a lot of stuff anyway and many people have their own blogs and sites which prove useful for the wandering boulderer in Scotland.

Nevertheless, I've opened a Google Bouldering in Scotland site where I'm putting draft topos and updates for the forthcoming updated editions of the Bouldering in Scotland printed guides. As time goes by, I'll add more videos, topos, maps and photos to complement the print guides. We're looking for area authors for the three new guides: Central & South/Central Highlands/Northwest Highlands, so please get in touch if you want to feature your hard-earned expertise on the blocs - there are a lot of folk who have put so much time and effort into their bouldering and Stone Country is a community publishing press!

Each area will be based on an accessible 'day-run' radius, including the islands closest to mainland ferry ports (eg. Arran will be in Central & South, Mull in Central Highlands) and the guides will be see a complete design overhaul. They'll feature photos from local photographers and activists, complete problem listings, photo topos, all-new maps and access notes, and of course, hundreds of new stones and venues developed since the gazetteer edition of 2008. Areas which feature new and exciting problems include: Torridon, Sheigra, Reiff, Aberdeen sea-cliffs, Glen Nevis, Galloway, Strathconon, Laggan, Trossachs, Dumbarton (of course), Shelterstone, Arran and a lot more!

The topos on the new site are free to download but are copyright of their authors, so please use them for personal use only. In many cases they require significant updates, so if you want to get in touch to tell us what you've done, please do so!

Mapping the forest, or mapping the mind?

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 14:44:00 +0000

In that Empire, the craft of cartography attained such perfection that the map of a single province covered the space of an entire city, and the map of the empire itself an entire province. In the course of time, these extensive maps were found somehow wanting, and so the College of Cartographers evolved a map of the empire that was of the same scale as the empire and that coincided with it point for point. Less attentive to the study of cartography, succeeding generations came to judge a map of such magnitude cumbersome, and, not without irreverence, they abandoned it to the rigours of sun and rain. In the western deserts, tattered fragments of the map are still to be found, sheltering an occasional beast or beggar; in the whole nation, no other relic is left of the discipline of Geography.
Jorge Luis Borges, "Of Exactitude in Science" from A Universal History of Infamy (Penguin 1984 p.131)

All maps are illusions, tricks of the mind, elaborate tapestries of scale. And they only exist in our head, despite their intricate keys and contours. Look at old political maps of the world, or Ptolemy's map of Scotland, or Timothy Pont's 'reformed' maps of the Scottish Highlands - they hint more at our imagination and preoccupations, rather than any 'physical' reality. Google maps are still just a satellite's myopic squintings, whatever their resolution. Anyway, being exact is impossible, fractals lead us into chaos, and by nature a 1:1 scale would be a ragged reality, as Borges suggests.

Ptolemy's Map of Scotland, which way is up, what is north?

Mapping for a book, providing a topographical 'bird's eye' overview, is already an imagining and a very personal interpretation. How do you reduce the world to a page? What is the optimum reduction you need? To map Fontainebleau for a guidebook on bouldering, I had to take my mental canary, intrepid little visionary high above my head, directing the wandering biped far below amongst the trees, clutching his sketchbook.

Mapping the chaos of boulders meant long wanderings with the mental canary controlling my scratching pencil from on high . . . I was a human puppet in thrall to shapes of rock, stacked cubes - Jenga-towers of plinths and boulders. I marked on my little numbers, drew my squares and circles, interlocked my rhomboids, laid down my contours and began to grow the imagined map of my Fontainebleau. Just as Denecourt had done with his featured trails in the previous century.

Year after year, with a sketchbook and the trusty canary, I set off into the oak and pines and birch, like so many before, but into my own imagination of the place. I couldn't map every stone and boulder problem, I had to imagine what would be useful for someone visiting the forest for a first time, what would help them navigate through a natural chaos. What was a landmark? What could be erased from relevance? What was remote; what accessible?

Relativity is all, and thankfully Fontainebleau already has an in-situ mapping of colour-coded paths (thankyou, Claude-Francois Denecourt!) and a recent culture of painting numbered circuit problems on the boulders. My IGN map of Fontainebleau is ragged and holed in the creases from constant folding. I grew to love those little aluminium signs nailed to trees, stencilled with the old crossroads and bridleways of the forest - Chemin du Bois Rond, Chemin de la Vallee Close, Carrefour du Bas Breau . . . and so on, they all interconnected and gradually I encircled my empty spaces on the paper.

Road maps I drew with to magnetic north, to avoid confusion between separate maps, but down at the micro-level, amongst the trees, north and south are meaningless, so each map can be orientated whichever way you like, you just need a frame of reference. I stuck to the approach paths as frames of reference, marking the stones as I found them on the direction of approach, keeping the book page in line with the walking climber. Stomping into Potala, for example, the classic orange circuit appears at the base of the page as you suddenly emerge from the woods onto a sandy clearing and glowing, pristine ochre walls.

I know that the blank page becomes the map . . . the blankness feels its way into meaning, this block narrows against this one, round the back should be red 22, follow the corridor, turn left, there it is, the canary wheels high above, re-orientates . . . the small figure far below, under the canopy, moves off again . . . the forest landscapes of Fontainebleau appear like castles in a pop-up book of wizardry.

Italian Lakes interlude

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 15:24:00 +0000

A week of late autumn sunshine and soft alpine breezes made for a perfect walking trip, plus some stunning rock architecture curtain-walling the many well-marked paths of the Italian trail network. Lierna is a superb base for exploring Lake Como and the foothills of the Sondrio alps, underneath the high ridges of the Grigna and the Legnone. The high treeline allows shaded walks to about 1500m, I tripped over myself several times as 300m faces of rock reared through the gaps in the oak and beech.

It was also a trip to unwind, watch sunsets with a beer or two and swan about the jigsaw harbour villages of Varenna, Bellagio, Menaggio. I even thought I might catch a glimpse of George Clooney on his Vespa - 'Ciao, George!' - but his name was banned on the holiday, just referred to as Voldemort...

Lake Como is a leggy lake with two branches reaching down to old Etruscan/Roman towns of Lecco and Como, the hidden bays more accessible by boat than land, usually punctuated with peninsular castles and echoing the longue duree of history and struggle for the control of the high alpine passes. Etruscans, Celts, Gauls, Romans and then Longobardi fed the distinctive mixed-blood of these mountain lakes before the Italians just seemed to give in to a flashier culture of style, cars and football. You'd certainly be hard pushed to discover a sense of cultural and financial nervousness currrent in other European countries, there's a lot of brash money on display here. Some of the cars aren't quite so flashy, though...

Chasing the right weather . . .

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Not as odd a concept as you may think . . . with the amount of forecasting sites available on the web, 'chasing the weather' has become a black art.

All of us who love the outdoors have different priorities when it comes to weather: rock climbers, winter mountaineers, canoeists, surfers, walkers, paragliders. However, we all have one thing in common: the perfect forecast! For a surfer, this may be a settled period after a storm, with huge swells and little wind. For walkers and climbers, it is the eternal hunt for the 'blue day', usually a high pressure forecast with light winds and dry conditions underfoot. For canoeists, rain-swollen, low pressure systems whet the appetite, as the rivers boil into bursting arteries of peaty water. For paragliders, only the stillest, 'thermal' days will do.

Many old-timers will smell it in the wind, or have developed an instinct for it, such as 'mixed' winter mountaineers. This rare breed of snow-scrapers seek out hoared up rock in the Highlands, with each hill-range cursed with particular micro-climates and eccentric thermal behaviours influenced by a largely maritime situation - only perfect combinations of temperature, moisture and wind direction will see the cliff face come into 'perfect nick'. Nothing is more disappointing after a 2am alpine start, a 4 hour drive, a powder-snowed 3 hour walk-in, than to find the cliff 'black' and dripping, rather than frozen into a turfy, dandruffed playground.

For boulderers, only a dry, cold spell in autumn or winter, when the leaves wither into Barbecue crisps and the rock squeaks with chalk, will do. For trad climbers, long summer high pressures are the stuff of dreams, it seems more so these days.

And so we all have our favourite forecasting sites, trawling through our list of Favourites to find the forecast that's 'just right', knowing fine well the weather will do just what it's going to do. It doesn't stop us picking our forecasts, though. Here are a few of my most visited sites for chasing weather in Scotland - my favourite is the Norway site. The Scandinavians are obviously used to Atlantic weather fronts and YR.NO is a great weather channel providing a time-slide animation which features wind direction, temperature and precipitation at once. It also offers pretty accurate long-term forecasts for those of us stuck at the coalface of dirty, jet-streamed low pressure queues...

The BBC also offers a reasonable time-slide satellite animation and good break-downs of daily local conditions:

The best mountain sites for Scotland are the MWIS page, a PDF-based system, and the Met Office Mountain Forecasts

Craigmore Crag

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Sun, 25 Sep 2011 16:50:00 +0000

A few dedicated Craigmore 'believers' have been busy tidying up the bouldering for this crag (as well as the litter and the last of the chanterelles!). Stone Country is working on the new guide for Southern Scotland (Stone Country Bouldering in Scotland Volume 1), which will mean a lot of problem checking, grade arguments and very sore skin if my tendons and back hold out long enough - otherwise I'll need an army of guinea pigs.

Craigmore comes into magical conditions only occasionally, autumn dry spells being my favourite. Before the rain swept in today, I had a fresh, leaf-whispering morning on Jamie's Overhang repeating all the variations (apart from 'Surprise Attack', which I've done once and doubt I'll get done again for a while!). Look at the disdain here as I kick away my own boulder mat on the excellent wee Font 6c dyno 'The Art of War':

The Climbing Academy -new bouldering centre for Glasgow

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Wed, 07 Sep 2011 11:03:00 +0000

It was kind of Rob Sutton, operations manager, to show me round the nearly complete 'Climbing Academy' bouldering centre at the old News International warehouses in Portman Street, Glasgow (just below the M8 flyovers on the south exit of the Kingston bridge, off Paisley Road West). These premises are huge - thousands upon thousands of square feet of wood-panelled walls, at all angles, stretching down long corridors, circling into hidden spaces and tunnels. It is destined to become Scotland's largest and most ambitious bouldering centre and will bring bouldering to the masses as much as to the dedicated but jaded Scottish boulderer!

Based on the popular 'TCA' ('The Climbing Academy') in Bristol, I was impressed as much with the holistic and rounded philosophy for development of bouldering as a mainstream health and fitness activity (both mental and physical!), as with the plans for a dedicated, world-class training centre and international competition space. The space itself is cavernous and tall, labyrinthine, with a cave-like insulation guaranteed to keep things at a steady cool temperature in both winter and summer.

The facilities will be impressive and ergonomic: childrens' play areas; chill-out spaces; a good-food cafe; matted yoga and stretching spaces; rooms for professional treatments and therapists; showers; and a dedicated bouldering shop! The idea, I was told, was to create an uncrowded, explorative space, replicating the circuit feel of a compact outdoor venue. Walls of all angles link into each other, showcasing colour-coded 'natural' lines in graded circuits like Fontainebleau. Downloadable topos and circuit maps will be available for visitors to challenge themselves and benchmark their progress in the art of bouldering.

This philosophy of inclusivity cannot be underestimated and it seems the directors have got the 'vision' spot-on: bouldering should be accessible to all and athletic climbing 'play' is the name of the game, no matter what circuit or grade you are chasing. Wandering under the painted, bolt-holed boards, I was in full visualisation mode, imagining 'classic' problems up prows, over lips, through roofs, round aretes . . . it truly will be a blessing to have such a venue for those long winter nights and those rainy summer days in Scotland.

The centre is planning to open in late autumn, with a super-flexible pricing policy. Keep up to date with their blog and join up as soon as they open - as a climbing art in itself, this is what bouldering has deserved all along.

Powmill Blocs

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 12:06:00 +0000

Powmill Blocs, a set on Flickr.

I'd appreciate any topos, grades, problems, names etc of the bouldering at Powmill that hasn't appeared on UKC for the A-Z of Scottish bouldering. Fine little venue for a dry sunny day in Autumn. I almost felt I was in a small corner of Font...

Reiff & Cnoc Breac

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Sun, 07 Aug 2011 18:06:00 +0000

Reiff & Cnoc Breac, a set on Flickr.

The last of the summer? What a scorcher at Reiff. Cnoc Breac was pretty good as well as a bouldering venue.

Glencoe

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 16:07:00 +0000

Glencoe, a set on Flickr.

Craig Minnan

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Mon, 25 Jul 2011 06:41:00 +0000

A forgotten, windswept moor with broken old crags overlooking Inverclyde, it's a good spot to escape in the high summer. I'd be keen to know if anyone has bouldered here - Little Craig Minnan, in particular, was a terrific buttress with exciting problems over good grassy landings. There appears to be more rock in Muirshiel than I remember, as though I'd missed some vulcanism in the last decade or so. Buttresses everywhere... but sometimes the high contrast summer light makes them seem more substantial than they are!

Chilling Out and Freaking Out

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Thu, 14 Jul 2011 08:59:00 +0000

Taking photos in Glencoe. Managed to catch Daniel Laing and Murdoch Jamieson on the Freak Out wall ticking the classics, then some pleasant bouldering down at the boulders beside Loch Achtriochtan.

Hutton's Arran

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 10:24:00 +0000

In my palm, I roll around three small stones taken from the waters. One is a blue schist pebble, slightly chipped, another a perfect egg of sandstone conglomerate and the last a pink and white granite sphere. When I force my brain onto the rack of geological time, exploding it out into a thousand ‘civilizations’ or so (my attempt at imagining a million years), then multiply this by, say, 50, I just about get an idea of each stone’s provenance. I feel I am rolling around three small planets in untouchable orbits; three lost worlds of breathtaking beauty, shape and form; elegant worlds which have been crushed, eroded, rolled into one another and, briefly, given this current page of a pop-up book: there you go, this is your planet for now; turn the page another million years and another world pops up. Stones are border guards of the unknown and secretive territories; bureaucratic knots in our states of understanding deep time . . .

...for the full article, visit the E-books page

A little light comedy . . .

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Wed, 06 Jul 2011 16:16:00 +0000

Circuit bouldering Scottish style

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Tue, 05 Jul 2011 15:47:00 +0000

Arran Bouldering, a set on Flickr.

The biggest, meanest, longest bouldering circuit?

I'd say Arran has a good chance of winning this one. Hop the 7am ferry, get a bus to North Glen Sannox and walk up into Coire nan Ceum, do about 20 of the best problems there (mostly slabs but a few choice roofs up to 6b), then nip up the Witch's Step to the Caisteal Abhail ridge. This has some fine bouldering all the way to the summit on some isolated blocs and on small tors beyond.

Drop down along the big arced ridge to the Cir Mhor summit and some architecturally challenging domino blocs with body-munching properties (and the Rosetta Stone, if you can find it). The silvery slabs on the south west flank of this hill have some compact rock and balancy problems.

At this point you might want to stop for some lunch, you'll be about 40 to 50 problems in. Got enough water? I couldn't find those springs marked on the 1:25,000 map, though I was convinced I could hear bubbling water under the stones.

Now drop down to Fionn Coire under the Rosa Pinnacle. Lots of fine easy bouldering on the howff boulders under the crag, then nip across the stream to the A Chir boulders, a fine compact collection of technical problems (and some big projects). About 30 or so problems up to 5c/6a.

By now, your feet should be raw meat, if it's a hot July day, and you'll be drinking water from the streams at every opportunity. Cramp-thighed, stomp down Glen Rosa to the Daingean boulders by the bivi stone at the path (Cuckoo pockets etc). About 10 problems here up to 7a, but you'll have no skin for that level.

A final haul down to the lower Rosa boulders (about 15 reasonable problems) and a well-deserved dip in the plunge pools of the Rosa burn, then see if you can make the 4.40 ferry.

To extend it properly into a form of alpine torture, walk over Goatfell's south ridge to drop down to Corrie and finish on this classic circuit and catch the later ferry (over 200 problems in total, about 15 miles walking). I made it to plunge pool in Glen Rosa and was done in . . . a blistering circuit, indeed.

Stone Country Mountains of Scotland - Beinn a Chreachain

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Fri, 17 Jun 2011 12:21:00 +0000

The biggest peaks in each Scottish Mountain range - how many are there? Not as many as Munro's table of clustered bumps (pity the poor Skye bagger on the ridge!). The qualification is simple: the biggest peak in each distinct mountain range, though distinction is sometimes difficult. While this might seem lazy or just as arbitrary as Munro's fascination (a case in point is the Cobbler, much more dramatic than Ben Ime), it is at least not quite as obsessive, as each range gives a geological colour of its own and climbing the highest peak (usually) provides a good enough walking challenge, as well as offering a more realistic tour of Scotland's landscape, with landscape in mind rather than a tick-box. A good example of this is the northern Breadalbane range of hills sandwiching Glen Lyon. Beinn Dorain dominates only because it's by the road and it naturally captures the attention, but Beinn a' Chreachain provides a more remote experience entirely and arguably a richer experience of the landscape.

The most northerly sentinel of the Breadalbane range of hills (and the highest in the group), Beinn a' Chreachain ('the treeless hill' or 'the hill of the clam'?) rises to a blind bare summit cairn of 1081m. This fantastic hill is propped on top of the Coire an Lochain cliffs surrounding the dramatic clear pool of Lochan a' Chreachain. The walk to reach the start of this treeless hill paradoxically passes through a remnant of the Caledonian Forest - in Gaelic on the OS maps it is called 'Crannach': 'abounding in trees'.

The walk starts at Achallader farm, home once to the duplicitous and treacherous land thief 'Black Duncan' (a graveyard of the original owners - the Fletchers - is supposedly nearby the ruined castle). The path follows the Water of Tulla along fine shingle banks where waders nest in the pebbles. The river is full of small, leopard-spotted trout.

Soon you are diverted uphill into the wonderful old forest of Scots Pine, birch, alder and mountain ash and fine bog flora such as giant clumps of butterwort.The old trees I noticed had lost a few limbs in the recent storm of 23rd May, revealing fleshy white scars - thankfully the dry spell of April saw no fires (it's been a tough year for trees in Scotland!). It still retains that romantic magic of the 'Lost Forest', the Rannoch bog having failed to spill over and climb the northerly flank of the Breadalbane hills to which they cling. The railway barrels through the forest but is well hidden and I only heard two trains all day. The path loses itself at the end in a fenced off area where the density of saplings increases and the bogs deepen, one can almost imagine the primal Scottish habitat of boar, auroch, lynx, bears and wolves...

Suddenly you are spat out onto a fine grassy sward by the steep Allt Coire an Lochain - look out at the burn for a very old twin tree of alder and mountain ash, intertwined by centuries of growth. The path continues up the burn to the last bastion of a Scots pine at the 550m contour (your halfway height). From here you can take the easy left flank of the hill, but I prefer the steep climb into the dramatic corrie by the Lochan. I had my fishing rod, but over a brew of tea it became apparent there wasn't a single fish here. I wonder if they had been frozen out of existence by our last two arctic winters or if they were hiding in the depths, but not a single rise kissed a circle on the surface.

I heard the ventriloquist fluting of ring ouzels somewhere in the scree, but could I spot them hell. I gave up fishing and bridwatching and bashed up the punishing gully on the east side of the cliffs to a bealach and a fine view into Glen Lyon. A short gasper to the summit quartz gained the highest peak in this massif, with grand views north over Rannoch to the Coe and Nevis ranges. Most folk return along the plateau via Beinn Achaladair to bag the peak, but not being a bagger I meandered down the ridge and back into the depths of the forest, rewarded by a late evening sun-glow on the red limbs of the old pines.

Garheugh Port

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Thu, 16 Jun 2011 08:09:00 +0000

Garheugh Port, a set on Flickr.

It's been a long time since Garheugh Port first attracted the boulderer, around the millennium in fact, when Dave Redpath, nursing a pulley injury, went exploring on the Galloway coast for some diversion...

'It was by chance that I pulled out an old guidebook, flicking through I happened to come across a place described as having a steep undercut slab and a few boulders. . .'

Sounded promising... Dave disappeared every weekend until a batch of superb problems on the greywacke rock of Garheugh was completed. It became a popular summer venue for bouldering the highball slabs in the sun and sea breeze, a good winter venue for catching low winter sun and holding the roof slopers. It saw a host of visits by excited central belters until it seemed to fade back to nature, as many Scottish venues tend to do when they have their moment and are left to slumber. I returned on the hottest day of the year on the 3rd of June - a real continental scorcher, southern air masses having drifted too far north. I was expecting to see ivy and lichen covering the slabs, but thankfully most of the classic problems were clean and there was even a little chalk here and there. Someone had built a rather fetching rock cairn from the flat echoey stones that litter the storm beach. Perfect day for getting the top off and sweating it out in the baking heat as seals slopped about in the weedy slackness of low tide...

It's located on the western foreshore of the Machars peninsula between Port William and Glenluce.

Rathlin book launch

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 14:52:00 +0000

Philip Watson, North Coast naturalist and social historian, will be signing and talking about his new book ‘Rathlin: Nature and Folkore’ which has just been published by Stone Country Press in PB at £9.99. Two events will be held:

Manor House, Church Bay, Rathlin - 3pm on Friday June 10th - free food and wine (1pm ferry from Ballycastle)...hopefully the weather will be good enough for an evening walk of the island...

Waterstones, Coleraine, 3pm on Sat 11th June 3pm - book signing

New book on Rathlin Island by Stone Country

noreply@blogger.com (John S Watson) — Thu, 26 May 2011 15:55:00 +0000

‘Rathlin: Nature and Folklore’ is on sale now for £9.99 at bookshops, on Amazon or direct from the publisher at www.stonecountry.co.uk

Open publication - Free publishing - More history

IRISH AUTHOR CHARTS 50 YEAR LOVE AFFAIR WITH ISLAND

A FIFTY year love affair may feature in many tales, but a well known Northern Irish ecologist and writer is putting the island of Rathlin at the heart of his affections in a newly published book charting five decades of visits to its shores.

Philip Watson is a naturalist who has worked on several continents, but it is the lure of life on Rathlin island, just off the north Antrim shoreline, that has called him to explore the island’s mythical history, sealife, birds and wondrous natural terrain in ‘Rathlin: Nature and Folklore’.

Since his first glimpse in 1960 of her white chalk cliffs and dark basalts glinting in the sun, the 16 year old birdwatcher studying golden eagles on the mainland, has since spent many visits to the island for work and for pleasure, charting its changes - and sometimes beautiful lack of changes - in this new book, published by Stone Country Press Scotland.

Rathlin is Northern Ireland’s only permanently inhabited offshore island, sitting like a stepping stone in the narrow and turbulent Sea of Moyle between Ireland and Scotland, straddling cultures, habitats and peoples.

It is a busy, vibrant and beautiful place with a resident population of around 100 islanders who look to the future with confidence but can also hark back to a past of massacres, famine and emigration.

The tale, which can be as useful an island guide as a prosaic read, starts with Philip’s first work stint as he joins a small group of enthusiasts to set up a Bird Observatory to study migration, followed by other bird surveys on the island throughout the 1960s.

In the period 1970-75, his job as a fisheries biologist took him back to the island regularly for extended periods studying lobsters and crabs with the island fishermen, which accounts for several chapters in the book on Rathlin’s bountiful sea life.

In 1975 while working for the RSPB, Philip returned to Rathlin to negotiate purchase of large stretches of the northern and western cliffs for the RSPB, to become bird reserve areas.

It is over these two decades he built up friendships with fishermen and islanders that have lasted the course, and many have helped him piece together the island’s mythical and natural history in several chapters of the book.

In the 1980s Philip recounts how he became involved for a couple of years with Richard Branson’s UK 2000 environmental project; helping set up NI 2000, which took him again to Rathlin for community projects such as the restoration of the 18C Manor House.

Branson made a rare celebrity appearance on the island, when in 1988 he presented the islanders with a new fast lifeboat, in thanks for help when he crashed his trans-Atlantic record-breaking balloon just off its shores on 3 July 1987.

Working as North Coast warden and then countryside manager with the National Trust between 1984-88 and 1990-1999 took Philip much more frequently to Rathlin, as the Trust purchased some buildings and land for conservation and became involved with island life.

In the course of all these years on and around Rathlin, Philip gradually became aware of much more than its land, sea and birdlife - the island’s rich heritage of folklore. Tales were told to him of seals and mermaids that took human form, of the old woman who changed into a hare and back again, of legendary magical horses, ghosts and hairy fairies, of a whiskey-laden shipwreck and much more.

The footloose ecologist has returned frequently to the island in the 2000s doing seabird surveys – bouncing about in small island boats and scrambling about the cliffs and in the latter half of the decade he decided to make the golden anniversary of his first trip the subject of a book.

“I never need an excuse to go to Rathlin, it calls me. Now I visit regularly for the sheer pleasure of being on this magical island, to see old friends, to renew acquaintances with tens of thousands of seabirds, a hundred or so seals, the island’s rare golden hares (only 2 known there) and to revel in that unique feeling of being on an island – one that retains its integrity and beauty while coping with a fast changing world,” said the author.