Ben Nighted - Ascent of Tower Ridge, Ben Nevis

Ben Nighted by Mick Upton

The ridge of snow seemed to dissolve into one of smooth rock, from which a black vertical wall rose. It was difficult to tell in the dark. Our previous stance, towards the top of a steep broken gully, was more sheltered than the ridge. So Iain and I lowered off our gear to join the others there.

It was 2.30 in the morning, snowing gently; it would be light in a couple of hours. Tied into our protection, we huddled into an emergency shelter, listening to the sound of avalanches sweeping down the surrounding steep slopes and couloirs. We ate cheese and chocolate.
We had been climbing for nearly 11 hours. The last two pitches having taken almost four hours, slowed by the dark and the snow.

There was just room for three of us to sit on ledges under the shelter. Dave sat out the night a few feet below us; I went down to him a couple of times to deliver food and support. He maintained that he was warm enough, warmer than when he fell in the stream earlier just below the CIC hut.
 

Surrounded by cloud, we lunched while Dave changed out of his wet clothes. It was not until after we started up the scree slope that the clouds parted sufficiently for us to see the ridge, which we gained from its eastern side.

Initially we moved together, as two pairs, wearing coils of rope, slowing only over some loose rock leading up to the ridge. At a steeper section below the Little Tower we dropped the coils and Rebecca led up a slightly overhanging section along a narrow ledge. She bought up Iain, I led Dave up.

Occasionally the cloud lifted enough for us to see ahead. Each time more of the ridge came into view the magnitude of our task became more apparent.
 

The hours melted away, the clouds lifted towards dusk. We were dwarfed, four creeping figures in a steep world of black and white, plagued by our private worries as the light faded. Absorbed by the sloping ledge we hardly notice the day slip away.

The ledge, the Eastern Traverses, had been our first real problem; a meter wide and banked with hard snow sloping above a fearful drop. Clipping into some in situ gear, Iain eased along above the void. The evening light was fading fast, I followed. Ensuring each kicked step was secure we inched our way along and round a corner. The ledge rose gently. Iain had found no protection on the blank wall in front of our faces, no holds either.

Half way along the ledge I had no rope left. It was now dark. I had tied into the middle of the rope, keeping the spare in my rucksack. As I considered how to untie and retie myself into the end of the rope without any protection I spotted a nearby piton. Relieved, I clipped a sling from my harness into this God sent piece of rusty metal. Pulling the spare rope from my bag I tied onto the end then continued to make my way across to join Iain perched on a rib of rock bounding a tunnel. At least there would have been the safety of a tunnel if it had not been full of snow.

We bought the others over and moved up to a desk sized platform, where we regrouped and pulled on our head torches. We shoveled handfuls of ‘Twiglets’ into our mouths. It took me sometime to persuade myself to climb the steep banked snow up to the rock chimney ahead of us. With crampons we would have been quicker. The next pitch was steep but not difficult, even finding protection and holds proved little problem in the dark. Rebecca and Dave sat belaying, turning their torches off to save batteries. Isolated in the darkness they watched our beams of light slowly gain height up the Great Tower.
 

Below an area of snow covered rock, I found a few ledges, sufficient for the next stance. The beam of light from my torch faded, spluttered and died. I changed my batteries in the light of Ian’s torch when he reached me.

Sometime after 4am Iain and I stepped out of the shelter into a steel cold dawn. Shivering uncontrollably, we ducked back under the cocoon for a further half hour. Buoyed by the extra warmth we stretched out our cramped limbs and quickly climbed up to the gear we had placed a few hours earlier.

In the sharp morning light, the drop on either side of the ridge was alarmingly evident. I picked my way across and dropped down into ‘The Gap’, clipping into an in situ sling. The thought that we nearly attempted this section in the dark made me shudder as I stepped off the tower across to the vertical wall opposite. Although the darkness of the night would have hidden the sucking void beneath me Sun broke through the high clouds as I belayed the others across. Peaks rose out of a layer of cloud hiding the valleys below us.
 

The following rock sections were easy, but interspersed with unstable snow. The top pitch was of steep snow lying on a base of water ice. I watched water trickling from under this base layer as I set up a belay 30 meters from the top.

At 10 we were on the summit sipping the beer that Iain and Dave had carried up. A quick text message home saved the mountain rescue being called out. After half an hour on the top, we headed off down the zigzags and the tourist path to get back to our car 25 hours after setting out.

Mick Upton
May 2004