Weather window - Ardverikie Wall

As mentioned in Classic Rock, Ardverikie Wall, located lower down than most Scottish classics and being midway between Aviemore and Fort William, seems to hold on to better weather even when the higher mountains around are clagged out. And so it seemed, at least according to the latest Met office data and forecast, that this would be the case. It suited our trip, having spent a couple of days East and wanting to look at Ben Nevis later; we camped near Loch Laggan, hopeful.

Another relatively easy and nondescript walk-in, along a gravel track, with estate signs warning of deer-stalking season and the odd midge about. On arriving at the head of the Glen containing Lochan na h-Earba, which Ardverikie Wall overlooks, the atmosphere changed, a sense of being away from it all suddenly descended. A small group of people on the distant lochan beach didn’t detract, perhaps even enhanced the feeling that this was a big, wild place and we were privileged guests for a while. 

In contrast to our experience on Savage Slit, it was clear that we’d have the climb to ourselves, even the whole glen to ourselves later. We were grateful that as much as the tick list nature of the book inevitably leads to some honey-pots, it also forces you to seek out places that don’t see the same sort of traffic.

Ardverikie Wall stands out from the walk in as a clean and obvious route up an otherwise imposing and confusing set of overhangs and strangely angled features. 

Being a group of 4, we mixed up the partnerships and me and Kenny easily found and easily climbed the first, amenable pitch. Feeling confident on the lead of what is described in the book as a bold slabby pitch, I continued into an abyss of straightforward but runout climbing. Actually bold is not the correct word, and runout doesn’t begin to depict the experience. I think the best way of describing it is soloing with rope drag. After the first few, well-protected moves, I spent about 30m carefully creeping upwards, searching for something that may prevent downward progress should I slip. Finally a decent spike for a sling gave me a chance to relax and enjoy the situation, listening to and watching the Peregrines encircling their nest, enticing the fledglings out. An awesome position from which to belay Kenny up the same experience. Apparently I’d missed one potential gear placement, although he wasn’t sure what would have gone well in it, or whether it really would have held. I’m not a big risk-taker, so pitch 2 took a bit of a mental toll, but the quality of what still lay ahead easily set me back up.

What followed was varied pitches of sometimes steep, corner, crack, bulge and even tufa-like terrain. Consistent in the grade throughout, a natural line and never feeling contrived, like some mountain crag routes can. For setting, route quality and overall experience, this absolutely belongs in the book and probably in my top 3. Even the top pitch, almost dismissively described in the guide as simply, “easy slabs to finish” was an enjoyable and suitable topout. 

Feeling warm from the descent and by now surrounded by clouds of midges, a swim in the lochan to freshen up didn’t even need suggesting, it just seemed a natural end to the day in all of our minds. Looking around from water-level, it was clear that just 5 miles in either direction and we’d have been drenched by heavy showers. Standing, rejuvenated in the refreshing water of the lochan, our hands punched high in the air in gratitude for creation, adventure, location, friendships and modern forecasting.