It was a standout point, one of the highlights, sometimes hard to find when you've done thousands and perhaps tens of thousands of climbs. It felt better than Salathe, better than climbing hard routes, better than doing any new route. It was unreal how good it felt.
Arriving on the ledge beneath the penultimate pitch things weren't looking good. I listened to Lewis giving himself a deep torrent of negative self talk.
"I cant do it, it looks well knarly"
"I'm not feeling good"
"Ohh man"
"You might have to do it"
Shite, I thought, eyeballing the bold traverse line. E6 with a very exposed and large fall potential which the first ascent team, Dawes and Pritchard had managed to core a rope on in a fall. I eyeballed where I'd extend kit to minimise this risk and listened to Lewis continue his torment, feeling slightly sorry for him, having brought him on this adventure. I felt a little like captain Ahab as there was no way I was retreating when we were near to the top of the trickiest route to do from the Hard Rock book.
I'd seen a few friends fall briefly into this short lived negative mindset a few times over the years, remarkably by some of the top UK trad climbers, telling themselves they are shit before struggling on moves I knew they could piss up. This was the first time I'd seen it in Lewis who normally oozed that confidence of youth, which is why I was hoping for a ropegun on this bold pitch.
I'd first met him when he was 12, a runt of a kid, my ex partner Sophie had given him a bouldering pad of mine before I even knew him which I was slightly pissed about. He came on many of the youth climbing meets I'd organised over the years. Gwawr, his very caring mum brought him to ones in Wales, the Peak, Devon and Cornwall where he learned about climbing, trance and techno.
He went from strength to strength in his climbing and clearly loved it. He later helped on the meets as an adult volunteer and guided me up A Midsummer nights dream on Clogwyn Ddu'r Arddu, leading every pitch on the Summer Solstice 2022, a fantastic lead where going slightly off route on pitch 2 he managed to regain composure facing a very big fall. He was extraordinary on slabs, onsighting UK 6c moves, but def had some work to do on pumpy terrain such as that found in Pembroke. More recently he's one of the 2 stars of the film 'Adra', which has Lewis and Zoe Wood showing some of the climbs, history and scenes of North Wales.
Lewis aged 14 on a youth meet in Devon
I'd just left my dream job with the BMC and Lewis was psyched for a Scottish trip and the weather Gods did bless us for the first part. Endless blue skies we sailed up to Glencoe and parked beneath the Buchaille in the evening light before meandering our way across Carnivore on Tunnel Walls, a fantastic route with a relatively bold traverse for leader and second and a steep top pitch.
The next day we brewed up and did the rather longer walk up to Shibolleth. The majority of the main pitch was damp and it felt more like E4 but it was a top quality climb and on the top we got a spectacular view of the Ben and Mamores.
The next day we brewed up and did the rather longer walk up to Shibolleth. The majority of the main pitch was damp and it felt more like E4 but it was a top quality climb and on the top we got a spectacular view of the Ben and Mamores.
Lewis on top of Shibolleth, looking across to the Ben and Mamores
We went to the Ben the next day and after doing the Bat went up the truly brilliant corner system of Centurion before meeting a queue where Torro and several other climbs meet, all finishing at the final pitch.
We went Northwards again to Skye and climbed on the slabs above Glen Brittle in Sron na Ciche, climbing Arrow route and Cioch Direct before Lewis went for the imposing arete of Highlander, an E6 on the Cioch Nose.
I'd told him it was piss for the grade, having done it 20 years earlier with Ben Bransby and Adam Long after we'd done the Nose on Eigg. I'd been labouring for Cumbria Stonework, soloing a ton and remember we climbed it with waterproofs on and socks under boots and it feeling e4. Seconding Lewis up it the crux was dismally harder than I remembered which didnt bode well for our objective on Harris.
We continued up the spectacular VS above, Integrity on the magically sticky Gabbro and returning to Glen Brittle drive round to Uig ready for the ferry to Tarbert on Harris the following day.
Arriving on Harris we drove Westward along the South Coast to where you can make a nice camp where the track leads off towards Sron Ulladale, a cliff which a few people have said is the best in the UK and a truly impressive crag.
We walked in, finding it the easiest of the walks we'd done the last few days and surveyed the incredible crag with deer roaming its lower slopes. The Scoop tackles the left side of the prow of the whole crag and is 8 pitches long, with 7 of the pitches being pretty hard ones. The aid version of the Scoop was put up by Doug Scott and team in 1969 but the free version we were aiming for was put up by Jonny Dawes and Paul Pritchard in 1987. The guidebook description for it starts with "One of the most prestigious lines on British rock". Looking up at it you know they arent kidding as the crag looks like Carreg Hyll-drem on steroids.
We went Northwards again to Skye and climbed on the slabs above Glen Brittle in Sron na Ciche, climbing Arrow route and Cioch Direct before Lewis went for the imposing arete of Highlander, an E6 on the Cioch Nose.
I'd told him it was piss for the grade, having done it 20 years earlier with Ben Bransby and Adam Long after we'd done the Nose on Eigg. I'd been labouring for Cumbria Stonework, soloing a ton and remember we climbed it with waterproofs on and socks under boots and it feeling e4. Seconding Lewis up it the crux was dismally harder than I remembered which didnt bode well for our objective on Harris.
We continued up the spectacular VS above, Integrity on the magically sticky Gabbro and returning to Glen Brittle drive round to Uig ready for the ferry to Tarbert on Harris the following day.
Arriving on Harris we drove Westward along the South Coast to where you can make a nice camp where the track leads off towards Sron Ulladale, a cliff which a few people have said is the best in the UK and a truly impressive crag.
We walked in, finding it the easiest of the walks we'd done the last few days and surveyed the incredible crag with deer roaming its lower slopes. The Scoop tackles the left side of the prow of the whole crag and is 8 pitches long, with 7 of the pitches being pretty hard ones. The aid version of the Scoop was put up by Doug Scott and team in 1969 but the free version we were aiming for was put up by Jonny Dawes and Paul Pritchard in 1987. The guidebook description for it starts with "One of the most prestigious lines on British rock". Looking up at it you know they arent kidding as the crag looks like Carreg Hyll-drem on steroids.
Stood beneath the Scoop
the
Ian Small had sent me pictures of him and Tony Stone on the Scoop and the Chisel a decade before telling me how great they were and one of the picture of Tony on pitch 5 of the Scoop was on the cover of the new Outer Hebrides guidebook.
As me and Lewis pondered at the bottom an arctic wind hardly let up and it became clear we wouldn't be able to feel our finger on the rock so we stashed kit and bailed back to our tents. This was the 3rd visit I'd made to Harris and Lewis to try to climb the Scoop. The first 2 were with Dave Rudkin and involved sitting above the Uig sea cliffs in the cloud and heavy rain for a few days before heading back to the mainland empty handed. I'd even had a ferry booked for another visit before but my partner bailed as he'd got a girlfriend. I felt luck was running against me getting on this climb, let alone up it.
We were back at camp early and I festered, stressed about leaving my job and a host of other things on my mind I'd caved and brought rollies, hiding them from Lewis at first he eventually had twigged and the bastard poached some, reducing what was my holiday vice stash.
Ian Small had sent me pictures of him and Tony Stone on the Scoop and the Chisel a decade before telling me how great they were and one of the picture of Tony on pitch 5 of the Scoop was on the cover of the new Outer Hebrides guidebook.
As me and Lewis pondered at the bottom an arctic wind hardly let up and it became clear we wouldn't be able to feel our finger on the rock so we stashed kit and bailed back to our tents. This was the 3rd visit I'd made to Harris and Lewis to try to climb the Scoop. The first 2 were with Dave Rudkin and involved sitting above the Uig sea cliffs in the cloud and heavy rain for a few days before heading back to the mainland empty handed. I'd even had a ferry booked for another visit before but my partner bailed as he'd got a girlfriend. I felt luck was running against me getting on this climb, let alone up it.
We were back at camp early and I festered, stressed about leaving my job and a host of other things on my mind I'd caved and brought rollies, hiding them from Lewis at first he eventually had twigged and the bastard poached some, reducing what was my holiday vice stash.
The following day the wind had calmed and walking back in we had hatched a plan between us. I was to lead the 6b pitches so that Lewis could save his arms for the bold 7th Pitch and we'd share a rollie on the top. Having had the 2nd to last one that morning I had the last 1 stashed in my thigh pocket.
We knew the first pitch was going to be tricky as a few very good climbers I knew had took a bit of a kicking on it and Ian Small was the only person I knew who'd onsighted the whole route. After a moderate start I went up and down a few times cursing on the too blank and too slopey crux, feeling super hot I had to chuck a downy off and eventually found a crimp allowing a slappy move up to easier moves, it had felt more on the 6c side to me. The next pitch was like a stunning E4 6b corner you'd find on tremadog.
Lewis led the next pitch which was lead us to one of the more famous pitches on the climb I'd first heard of in the 1990s, The Flying Groove.
Whilst belaying Lewis I had one of the most profound whole body cravings I'd ever had and it was a close run thing that the rollie stayed in my pocket.
Arriving at Lewis's belay I surveyed the Flying Groove, 6b pitch with delight. An undercling groove leading leftwards. It looked piss.
"It looks e3 Lewis"
Two moves in it became apparent it wasn't E3 and breathing hard and much thrutching ensued.
"Not fucking E3 Lewis" I bellowed down after the rock slabbed off giving a breather.
The belay ledge was spectacular and it felt like being on El Cap as Lewis seconded. After reviving from the Flying Groove Lewis took the lead on the pitch 5 'cover shot', he didn't make it look easy and after a bit of going back and forth and techy route finding he eventually shouted down safe and that the belay wasn't that good. He'd linked pitches 5 and 6 leaving the last hard, serious pitch.
Arriving at his ledge listening to his dark musings I backed the belay up with some good cams a bit lower.
The next pitch traversed almost horizontally rightwards and slightly upwards for about ten metres to what was clearly easy ground and a chilled top pitch. But I could see it wasn't Lewis' natural habitat such as slate. This pitch was steep at first, slightly gymnastic looking, clearly pretty strenuous and very much on your arms. The steepness of the traverse gives you a good amount of exposure with 100s of feet of air beneath you and a sizeable lob into it if you fell. The fact Dawes and Pritchard had damaged a rope falling on it lent weight to the seriousness of the climb.
After a few minutes of dark mutterings and a pep talk Lewis said:
"I'll give it a look"
He clipped a peg and carefully extended it before moving right and putting in some clearly shit wobbly RPs. Balancing right again he gained the start of the steep and intimidating rock. I expected a bit of upping and downing before a retreat to the belay. What I didnt expect was for him to commit fast and fully into the crux. Stretching out he grabbed a guppy and now a bit out from his shit kit he cut loose and started scrappling to get his feet back on before trying to latch something useful above. I felt a small adrenaline surge watching him, readying myself to catch his possible big air lob.
It all seemed to happen so fast, he blasted through the crux onto the more vertical wall leading rightwards, clipping some in-situ thing, keeping solid composure. He was climbing like the opposite of his grim self-talk earlier on the ledge. Hitting better holds after a few metres he crowed with delight, as did I. Watching this kid pull out a blinding lead on a relatively remote crag after being harassed by demons of doubt was just fantastic.
I seconded and was also pretty glad not to fall off which would have involved a sizeable pendulum and having not fallen off the prior pitches i was keen not to have a return visit. The in-situ thing felt out as I climbed past and was totally shit. It would have been a big lob.
After giving Lewis a big pat on the back for a great lead I led us up the mellow 5a top pitch, enjoying terrain I could move fast on.
When Lewis arrived we sucked in the views and the last rollie. What a fucking route, place and partner.
We went for celebratory drinks in Tarbert and as the weather deteriorated we spent more days drinking above the sea cliffs at Uig, doing a bit of writing and cards. The rest of the trip was damp but we were buzzing about this climb for weeks and months afterwards. Amazing that one route, not particularly hard by modern standards can feel priceless.
We knew the first pitch was going to be tricky as a few very good climbers I knew had took a bit of a kicking on it and Ian Small was the only person I knew who'd onsighted the whole route. After a moderate start I went up and down a few times cursing on the too blank and too slopey crux, feeling super hot I had to chuck a downy off and eventually found a crimp allowing a slappy move up to easier moves, it had felt more on the 6c side to me. The next pitch was like a stunning E4 6b corner you'd find on tremadog.
Lewis led the next pitch which was lead us to one of the more famous pitches on the climb I'd first heard of in the 1990s, The Flying Groove.
Whilst belaying Lewis I had one of the most profound whole body cravings I'd ever had and it was a close run thing that the rollie stayed in my pocket.
Arriving at Lewis's belay I surveyed the Flying Groove, 6b pitch with delight. An undercling groove leading leftwards. It looked piss.
"It looks e3 Lewis"
Two moves in it became apparent it wasn't E3 and breathing hard and much thrutching ensued.
"Not fucking E3 Lewis" I bellowed down after the rock slabbed off giving a breather.
The belay ledge was spectacular and it felt like being on El Cap as Lewis seconded. After reviving from the Flying Groove Lewis took the lead on the pitch 5 'cover shot', he didn't make it look easy and after a bit of going back and forth and techy route finding he eventually shouted down safe and that the belay wasn't that good. He'd linked pitches 5 and 6 leaving the last hard, serious pitch.
Arriving at his ledge listening to his dark musings I backed the belay up with some good cams a bit lower.
The next pitch traversed almost horizontally rightwards and slightly upwards for about ten metres to what was clearly easy ground and a chilled top pitch. But I could see it wasn't Lewis' natural habitat such as slate. This pitch was steep at first, slightly gymnastic looking, clearly pretty strenuous and very much on your arms. The steepness of the traverse gives you a good amount of exposure with 100s of feet of air beneath you and a sizeable lob into it if you fell. The fact Dawes and Pritchard had damaged a rope falling on it lent weight to the seriousness of the climb.
After a few minutes of dark mutterings and a pep talk Lewis said:
"I'll give it a look"
He clipped a peg and carefully extended it before moving right and putting in some clearly shit wobbly RPs. Balancing right again he gained the start of the steep and intimidating rock. I expected a bit of upping and downing before a retreat to the belay. What I didnt expect was for him to commit fast and fully into the crux. Stretching out he grabbed a guppy and now a bit out from his shit kit he cut loose and started scrappling to get his feet back on before trying to latch something useful above. I felt a small adrenaline surge watching him, readying myself to catch his possible big air lob.
It all seemed to happen so fast, he blasted through the crux onto the more vertical wall leading rightwards, clipping some in-situ thing, keeping solid composure. He was climbing like the opposite of his grim self-talk earlier on the ledge. Hitting better holds after a few metres he crowed with delight, as did I. Watching this kid pull out a blinding lead on a relatively remote crag after being harassed by demons of doubt was just fantastic.
I seconded and was also pretty glad not to fall off which would have involved a sizeable pendulum and having not fallen off the prior pitches i was keen not to have a return visit. The in-situ thing felt out as I climbed past and was totally shit. It would have been a big lob.
After giving Lewis a big pat on the back for a great lead I led us up the mellow 5a top pitch, enjoying terrain I could move fast on.
When Lewis arrived we sucked in the views and the last rollie. What a fucking route, place and partner.
We went for celebratory drinks in Tarbert and as the weather deteriorated we spent more days drinking above the sea cliffs at Uig, doing a bit of writing and cards. The rest of the trip was damp but we were buzzing about this climb for weeks and months afterwards. Amazing that one route, not particularly hard by modern standards can feel priceless.
Lewis on the last hard pitch on The Scoop. The gear on the orange rope is all properly shit
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