Hamish MacInnes has a legendary legacy when it comes to climbing in Scotland, but his contribution to Hard Rock (at least in the author’s opinion) was a bit of a curse (or perhaps just the result of a wicked sense of humour!). In deciding that the book should include a gully (and a hard one at that!) he certainly stretched the portfolio of skills that a prospective “ticker” would need in their tool box. George and I were fully expecting a struggle, but first climbed in 1937 and now graded HVS, how hard could it be?

Besides, we’d managed to pick a baking hot day (28C in Glencoe – are you sure this ‘Global Warming’ is fake news Mr Trump?) and it had been dry for a few days before that, so surely it would be in primo conditions? Anyway, the die was cast: it was on the list, and it was way too hot to contemplate Swastika on the Etive Slabs. Raven’s Gully here we come!

The path up to the upper reaches of Buachaille Etive Mor has been improved significantly since our visit to Slime Wall a year ago: https://rockaroundtheworld.co.uk/2021/07/23/buachaille-etive-mor-slime-wall/

… but the path still takes no prisoners once it branches off to strike up the left side of Great Gully before snaking its way to the foot of the wall via a narrow hidden rake.

The great weather has made Sime Wall the obvious spot, and there are teams already in situ on Bludgers and Shibboleth, with others arriving. Miguel and his mate are intent on the latter.

Funnily enough there isn’t a queue for Raven’s Gully (in fact judging by the UKC log books there rarely is, with just 6 teams registered in the last decade, and more than half of attempts logged as DNF – Did Not Finish).

The first 30m or so is a straightforward romp up the side of the Gully, before being forced into the depths.

Here’s George inspecting the way ahead…

…and his photo of me contemplating the prospect of upwards progress:

The floor of the cave looks like something from a new quiz show – Gardeners’ Question Time meets Jackass – a verdant oasis of moss and fern set in a randomly constructed rockery, all doused in oozing green slime. Gazing upwards, onward progress is blocked by three huge car-sized boulders / chock-stones.

George very reasonably pointed out that this was my bl@@dy daft idea, so I could continue at the sharp end. From my perspective I’d already lashed myself to the mast of ‘ticking a random selection of 60 odd routes in Ken’s bl@@dy book’ and whilst continuing looked hugely unappealing, there didn’t seem much likelihood of it being any better on a future visit.

The guide recommends tackling the first chock-stone on its left – a bottomless, off-width crack, coated in green slime and dangling 10ft above the floor of the cave. A mossy teeter followed by a full body jam in the slime, a long reach with a big cam…

…. and a foot in a sling (oops – should have said: warning – beta alert!) had me inching towards the advertised ‘Thank God hold’.

No such hold materialised (and no thanks were offered to said deity) but a wriggle, a slither, some front-crawl and a few choice words had me gasping on the next scree slope. Here’s George following suit.

You could pretty much cut & paste for the two remaining pitches, though both are supposed to be only 4c (LOL). The second is climbed (I use the word only in the loosest possible sense – perhaps ‘ascended’ would be more appropriate) on the right. A tiny spike on the right wall takes a tenuous sling for a foot hold, avoiding the need to adopt the tactics of the first ascent team: ‘These were the days of combined tactics, and Jock’s shoulders, and later his head, retained for some time to come the impressions of Glasgow tricounis’ (much to George’s relief no doubt!) Gloopy laybacks and a grovel bring you to beneath the third impasse (and a further collection of rotting tat marking the high point of other efforts!) Battle commences to the left of the final obstacle, with similar techniques being deployed accompanied by much scrabbling of the feet. We’d been struggling to match guidebook description to the rock, but having witnessed my efforts George concluded with certainty that we’d completed ‘The Bicycle Pitch’.

One compensation for the height gained and effort expended is we got a good view of Miguel on the lower of the two Shibboleth crux pitches:

Having all of the graded pitches below us, and unable to discern the ‘easy groove and ledge’ mentioned in the guide, we decided that we’d call it a day. Not so much DNF as CBA (Couldn’t Be Arsed). Judge me if you will, but I’m taking the tick (and I’m certainly not coming back for a re-match!)

A couple of raps later and we had emerged from the underworld, and could gaze back at this malevolent gash from a safe distance.

It struck me that a rescue from within its clutches would be far from straightforward, and the potential for needing one is not vanishingly small. Hats off to Jock Nimlin and the FA crew, and to anyone who has led it since (including my mate Robert who soloed it 40 years ago at the rash and tender age of 19!) I can only conclude that at some point conditions may have been more favourable, and no doubt climbers were more stout-hearted! That thought is reinforced by reference to the UKC voting, which is split between 3* and ‘bag of $#ite’!

I’ll leave you with a few choice words from other would-be-ascentionists:

• Running with water, had to bail at the second pitch! *Thanks to our contribution this route now has more DNFs than actual accents.
• the horror, the horror.
• Great fun. Running with water, green and filthy. 4 points of aid on the first chockstone and 2 on the second. Gave up at the third. Biggest sandbag of all time.
• Damages the parts of the brain other climbs cannot reach. Wait until it’s dry (if ever) but that would avoid the full “experience”, soaking wet and character building stuff !

…and finally, George’s description of a cunning plan we hatched whilst sipping beer and basking in the already hazy memory of the Type 2 Fun whilst gazing out at Loch Linnie from the sunroom at Craigallan, the Rucksack Club hut in Ballachulish:

Know someone you don’t like, a climber? Here’s a plan: casually mention that you know of a team who have recently climbed Raven’s Gully in Glencoe, a Hard Rock tick. Emphasise that it’s “only HVS” and add that there’s ” one pitch of 5a.” Massage their ego by telling them that the route is “right up your street.” Don’t on any account give the game away, by indicating that the deep, dark, dank, cold cleft that is Ravens Gully is covered in thick green moss, sponging up all available water. Avoid reference to any dripping wet cracks. Make no mention of the thick black slippery gloop lining the walls, or that the first ascensionist’s stood on each others shoulders (and heads!) to make progress. Make it clear that the UKC directory indicating an ascent every two years is inaccurate, as the people likely to climb this route are unlikely to be the type who log their ascents. Finally, encourage your victim to train for the route by visiting the local climbing wall more often. Trap now set, sit back and wait.

What are you waiting for? I’d get up there pronto whilst it is still in great condition, and before the queue forms! Enjoy 😉