Rhapsody
E11. The first. The only. The hardest. The biggest challenge in Britain. Led by Dave MacLeod back in 2004 Rhapsody marked a step forward in standards. The route was famous even before the first ascent, often the way when a top climber is pushing it out.
This article was published in CLIMB 45
E11. The first. The only. The hardest. The biggest challenge in Britain. Led by Dave MacLeod back in 2004 Rhapsody marked a step forward in standards. The route was famous even before the first ascent, often the way when a top climber is pushing it out. Everyone was willing him on and everyone knew it would be hard. The film ‘E11’ quickly followed. It confirmed our thoughts; desperate! Dedication beyond madness was essential, as well as fitness, strength, tenacity and skill found only in a top level athlete. I showed the film to friends as an example of how climbers can get ‘hooked’, how a route can take hold of your life, everything else tumbling by the wayside till it’s done. It inspired me to climb hard.
Rhapsody exploded in a mass of publicity, more so than any other grade jump. Perhaps it was the internet and the ease and speed of information hitting the public. Dave gave the world a step by step account of progress; they were gagging for it. But even this was surpassed by the second ascent, in fact never can I remember a second ascent being so coveted. Sonny Trotter, one of the world’s best traditional climbers came over from Canada twice to try it, his blog and the internet keeping up with progress in almost real time. It was awesome, it was the soap opera of the climbing world. People were logging on ten times a day to see if he’d done it or if he’d fallen again and what colour pants he’d been wearing.
The Venue
Rhapsody is at the cliff of Dumbarton near Glasgow. I’d heard about the venue and it sounded grim. Stories of drug addicts hanging out and walking in through plies of used needles turned me off. The ‘Neds’ would chuck bottles at climbers for fun, glass was everywhere. And the backdrop was a wasteland of disused and decaying shipyards, half demolished, the remains signed with aerosol by locals with nothing else to do. Perhaps this was once the way, maybe I just caught it on a good day, or were the stories spread by local climbers to keep the place to themselves? Things have changed I heard, and now it’s pretty nice! OK, so compared to Glen Coe or Torridon there’s a little lacking, but then I’m from the peaks where Horseshoe Quarry is one of the most popular spots! I expected a cliff with a few obvious traditional routes and some boulders at the base but it’s far more than that. There’s plenty of routes in both sport and traditional style and the bouldering is extensive, loads to go at across the range of grades. Dumbarton is a venue well worth visiting.
Dominating the crag is a huge flat wall, hanging over the bouldering like a tomb stone. In height it’s over thirty metres, the first 12 or so a steep slab, the rest of it overhanging by as much as 10 degrees. This is what you came to climb on!
The routes
Requiem is the line of the cliff. Starting from the top of the slab at a ledge it takes the soaring crack that slices through the overhanging headwall. There cannot be a more obvious line. Unfortunately the crack peters out maybe seven metres below the top at a thin ledge. From there a flake line leads up and slightly right to the crux move at the very top of the cliff. It’s E8 6c, or E7 7a, or F8a+, or 5.13a/b depending on which book you look at or who you ask. I’m gonna stick my neck out and say E7 6c, though F8a+ is a way more appropriate grade, unless you’re onsighting. Climbed by Dave Cuthbertson in 1983, this was the hardest route in the country and an absolutely incredible achievement!
Rhapsody is the direct on Requiem, avoiding the step right into the flake line and tackling the blank wall above the crack.
Why Try
Why would I want to try this route? Why would Sonny come half way round the world? To keep our sponsors happy of course! This is what many armchair critics thought as they tapped at their keyboards! As if! I think I’ve yet to meet a climber who’s agenda was ruled by those that dole out the kit. They aren’t paying a fortune and calling the shots. Our motives are the same as everyone else’s, the challenge.
Rhapsody stood out instantly, clearly extremely difficult physically, but having the advantage of being a traditional route without the ‘death’ badge! My background is all traditional, I’m drawn towards this style, taking on the full challenge of the cliff, but as the difficulty increases, usually so does the danger. This looked different, there was a sport feel about it…..with a dose of spice, a large dose! The climbing looked awesome too, long sections as opposed to the bouldery gritstone problems. I wanted to try it from the first time I heard about it, maybe not to try and do it, but just to try, to try and see what E11 really was.
Traditional climbing
What is Traditional climbing? Out in the mountains slithering up chimneys in the rain, or simply any route not protected by bolts? The definition seems to be traditional routes are protected by traditional means. For me traditional climbing is more about style, it’s about going out and trying to onsight routes using natural protection. ‘Headpointing’ I don’t really get, fair play to those that are into it, their level is above mine and maybe they are the better climber, but personally I feel that working and practicing routes with natural gear is somewhere between sport and trad. ‘Sport climbing on trad routes’. As traditional routes become safer the process becomes closer to sport climbing. Mentally you’re on redpoint, you climb like you’re on redpoint. Moves are totally rehearsed and perfected, protection is sorted and racked in the right order and you know which hold to place it from and with which hand. It takes barely longer than clipping a pre-placed quickdraw on a bolt. As routes get more dangerous and the pro more spaced and rubbish they move from ‘redpoint’ to ‘headpoint’. But it still seems different to ‘Traditional Climbing’. I’d say there is a difference between traditional and headpointing style with experts in either field that are perhaps not proficient or the best in both. For me the climbing I enjoy has two parts; on-sight traditional or sport. Maybe I’m just a chicken but if I’m going to ‘work’ a route it might as well be ‘safeish’, there’s far too much to live for! I prefer climbing where ‘only no mistakes will get you up’ as opposed to ‘only one mistake will lead to death!’
The Line
I expected an amazing and independent obvious line blasting up the centre of the cliff. In the film ‘E11’ a topo shows Rhapsody as a red line striking up directly where Requiem seems to bail rightwards. However, in reality I think if I’d just turned up with no knowledge of the route except it being a ‘direct’ I’d probably have done the wrong climb. From the thin ledge at the top of the crack, step up and place the last bits of gear, a very good Black Diamond number 3 (good but small - breaking strength 5kN) and a more doubtful back-up. Step back down to the ledge and traverse left for a few metres, there is a bolt here, but don’t clip it! Move up and leftwards with dynamic slaps between reasonable crimps. This section is hard, particularly for the short. A very long reach gains a sloping crimp for the left hand. From here a simple cross over with the right hand gains the edge of the cliff, a large jug, and a sit down rest if required. However, don’t do that, move right instead on very poor sloping crimps for a few metres to a reasonable side-pull but with terrible footholds. From there it’s possible to step across back into Requiem, or reach across and place another good cam. However, don’t do that either, move up via a series of doubtful finger jams and gastons to a press leftwards to a razorblade edge. An even sharper edge above this about three feet below the top Dave and Sonny took with their left hand and I used my right. For them a long slap to the top was the final move, for me it was a finger-slicing ‘barn-door’ move to a hold near the arête and then the top. This proved to be the hardest move on the route on lead!
Style
The route has been led by three people in three different styles. Some will say one style is better than the other. Sonny’s ascent was the best, the ‘most pure’. But who defines ‘purity’ anyway. The only really pure way is the onsight, anything else is a greyer shade with each climber having their own ethics and making them fit with public perception. Sonny led it from the ground placing all the protection on lead, clipping the rope in as he went. After every fall all the gear was removed. On lead the first two pieces are placed standing on the ledge at the top of the slab, and then a mere three cams in the crack at relative resting spots. Most people would place perhaps a few more! The last wires that protect the headwall are easy to place during the long rest before the hard section starts. Before trying the route I imagined I’d climb in this way, but I was happy to drop a few style points for a fast ascent. Sonny had made the second ascent making a point and I didn’t need to prove it again, either to myself or anyone else. We both figured that placing the gear didn’t add too much, if anything to the difficulty. What it did add was a total pain in the arse. I was trying Rhapsody with Dan Walker and Keith Sharples who were working Requiem using in-situ kit. After I’d fallen I’d have to get to the top by jugging up some fixed ropes, pull up more gear, abb down and place it, and then, before my go, I’d have to persuade them to go through the tricky job of pulling all the gear out for me. An excuse some will say but basically I just couldn’t be bothered. I was here to go climbing, to have fun. Climbing the route on their kit seemed like more fun.
When Dave was going for the first ascent he would climb up placing all the gear, then reverse the entire crack to the ground, an impressive feat to say the least! That’s over 25 metres (and another 25 back down!) To me this pushed the definition of the ‘down-climb’ to the limit. ‘Down-climbing’ has become accepted because if you’re trying an onsight and get pumped or cannot see the moves when close to the ground it’s clearly OK to step back down and gather yourself. If this is OK, then in theory it’s OK to step back from anywhere on the route. ‘Down-climbing’ has now become an accepted part of both sport and traditional climbing, with many not bothering to down climb on sport routes at all! It’s about bending ethics to make life easier! Dave went through his up and down process before every attempt, partly as a warm up but also to save time and effort on the actual lead. This also meant that on lead he was actually not on lead but on top-rope for most of the climbing and didn’t clip a single bit of gear. He was very honest about this and didn’t deviate from the process. My ascent was not so pure, however, personally speaking of course, it seemed more ‘pure’ to lead the route clipping all the kit on lead even if I wasn’t actually placing it. Perhaps that’s because I’ve done loads of sport redpointing, or maybe I’m an evil sport climber! The route itself is almost ‘designer trad’, there is a sport route up the slab to a bolt belay, the top of the cliff has bolts to fix ropes, there are sport routes nearby and there is even a bolt avoided on route. Like I said, in a grey world you set your own shade.
Trip One
I promised myself I’d take a peak at the route, but wondered if I really would. Then there was a team of John Dunne, James Pearson and David Simmonite going up with a back seat spare. James was very keen to grab an ascent, a very fit looking John was just out for a look and Dave wanted to be where the action was as always. Sonny had already been there for weeks and we’d read the constant progress reports on the net. This would be a good trip, even if I left my boots at home the crack in the car would be worth it!
Life was easy for us. With Sonny’s gear in-situ, the holds chalked up, the wall cleaned and the ‘Hotaches’ film team’s ropes in place we were set to go. Abbing down and checking the holds I had that warm feeling of knowing instantly ‘I can do this – I can pull on those holds!’ John and James were less impressed, the escapability was not what they expected. Conditions were good but our window was short, within a few hours the sun stopped play.
Back early the next day and the fun began. Sonny was on ‘headpoint’, I was on ‘lets see what happens point’, John was just ‘having a play point’ and James couldn’t see the point. We knew our time was short as the sun was blazing, Sonny cranked hard, ran it out and then fluffed the crux, he took the lob, it looked massive, but came to rest with no stress whatsoever. I was surprised to find myself also on lead, the gear a long way down below my feet and the crux move to come, I hadn’t quite prepared for it, I was in sport mode! I knew I could do the route, but didn’t know if it was this go, and those wires were getting further away very quickly. I launched into the crux but I didn’t ‘want’ it, in fact more of me wanted to fall off and see what happened. I slapped a sidepull but didn’t hold it then stared down at a tiny jumble of gear a long way below…
The Fall
Dave’s falls on ‘E11’ look hideous, they made falling look like a bad option. However Sonny was falling off every day and almost enjoying it. Dropping through the air seemed like a long time to me but then the rope came tight and all was fine. No swing, no massive jolt. However, there was a difference with belay tactics, Dave had a belayer anchored on the ledge. Sonny and myself had ours on the ground, unanchored and moving up with the fall, sometimes by over four metres. With this method there’s much more rope in the system and thus more to absorb the fall energy, and the dynamic belay also reduced the swing into the cliff. Apparently Dave’s rationale was that less rope out means less weight to carry and les friction therefore easier to get up. Also an anchored belayer meant a shorter fall and less chance of hitting the slab. We figured a softer, longer fall was a compromise well worth taking, and in addition this meant less strain on a rather feeble wire, which if snaps puts you another four or five metres lower. However, so far we had only fallen well below the top and were already almost level with the ledge. A fall from the top was something we weren’t keen to test.
But in terms of fall distance it’s no biggie! People take falls way bigger on sport routes all the time. On a recent Petzl Roc Trip people were skipping bolts and taking lobs that made this look like a beginners fall. Mentally it’s a good tactic to know that when going for the lead!
Trip Two
I knew it was gonna be hard to persuade anyone a trip to Dumbarton would be good for them. I wanted to go back for more. The line had seemed contrived at first, there were rules to be followed. I don’t like rules, I use whatever the rock offers me to get up. But Dave’s route climbed so well, and sticking to the rules was the obvious way. What Dave created was the biggest challenge, the line of most resistance. When you actually climb the thing it seems to be the only way to do it, the most obvious way to go! As a piece of climbing the quality is top notch. Recently Dave commented on the line, inspiration does not always come only from the line itself, but also from the moves, the exposure, the location. For his route the line may not be perfect but it made me want to climb it!
Mr Sharples was a good bet, I promised him I’d do my best, style my hair and he could take some nice photographs. Fortunately he was also very keen to try Requiem. It took a month to sort it, and by then Sonny had just made the second ascent. That was good, he deserved it, and it also took the pressure of me as the masses moved their attention to other news. I returned Saturday afternoon armed with the crucial wire borrowed from Adrian Baxter and a Beal Joker 9.1mm single rope with a super low impact force. Same weather; cold and grippy but sunny as a Spanish summer! game over by 3pm. I wanted to try anyway but the rather unprofessional professional in me took over for once and I laid up and we opted for pie and chips in town.
Same again next day, only I was climbing like an idiot, the slappy section out left even impossible on top-rope. I tied in anyway, I had to try a lead, I’d not be back for months at best, if ever. First go was pathetic, getting my hand tangled in a piece of situ gear that was lying in a crucial hand jam. I couldn’t even get up the crack! Next go was perfect, the warm up had been teasing me! At the crux the tank was still half full, mentally that would easily get me to the top and I pushed on in confidence, the fall something that wouldn’t be tested today. But strangely the tank developed a rapid leak and the top section was feeling a whole lot different with a dose of lactic in the arms. Hard moves I knew I could do felt right at my limit. The top was within reach but the gear came into view, obvious by its distance. Mentally I forced my mind back into the zone, focusing on the moves. They felt uncomfortable, unlikely and off balance, I wanted another option but it was too late. There was a moment where I had a quiet word with myself and then there was the top, just!
The Grade
British Traditional grades are given for the ‘on-sight’. I’ve always been slightly unsure of what this really means. Think of a route with a hidden pocket and a blind wire, it’s E5 if you find both and E7 if you don’t. No one ever finds either when onsighting, obviously everyone finds both on top-rope. So how hard is it? It would end up E5, otherwise it would be the easiest E7 headpoint ever, but known as tricky to on-sight. In the lower grades this is less common as there are often more options, but for the very hard routes getting everything right is crucial. The hardest stuff has never been onsighted and will be graded for an ascent with prior knowledge. So should the grade be for ‘the easiest way’?
‘E’ for effort or ‘E’ for extreme. This makes life even more complicated! E5 could be safe and hard or easy and death (that’s relative easy). Think ‘Strapadictomy’ (E5 6b) Or ‘Edge Lane’(E5 5c). It would be the same for E11. If you were to get 11 ‘E’ points for effort alone I reckon the difficulty would have to be F9b.
A lot of people wanted Rhapsody down graded, some said to be this level it must be death, others jealous of Dave said he had it coming to him. Brits love to downgrade. I’m hardly qualified having only climbed E9. Rhapsody is certainly F8c, it felt like F8c+ compared to other sport routes I’ve done quickly, but perhaps fear added a notch. Either way that makes E9 for effort straight away. For sure I don’t think Dave over-graded the route. His falls were nasty, and they could have been worse, that messes with your head. His proposal of E11 was fair and not exaggerated. Originally I was convinced it must be E10, going straight for the lead after just a few hours looking at the route, taking a whipper and barely feeling a thing. The fall was safe. A safe F8c cannot be E11. But I underestimated the route. There is a lot more climbing above where I fell, and on my lead I had to dig deeper than I have for a long time. The last move was as close as it gets. Perhaps if I’d fallen I’d have known for sure….
Footnote
So just what is the hardest traditional route in Britain? What route is the hardest to go out and onsight in true traditional style? Rhapsody is hard, desperate climbing, but a fall from the top might be OK. Compare this to Indian face, much easier technically, a mere F7c I hear, within the ability of many a climber. But the moves are insecure and a fall is terminal! If you could onsight F8c, which would you go for? Don’t ask me to say, I’m just providing discussion material for tonight’s pub visit.
