Author Archives: Nick Bullock

In today’s instant online access it’s easy to lose some of the adventure, the unknown, the mystery. The forums abound with accusations of spray and hype and grade inflation for recognition. It’s true, climbs are hyped sometimes, but I’m pretty … Continue reading →

Steve Swenson leaned conspiratorially closer, his black hair, bright eyes and slim frame belied his years.  “Don’t believe a word Raphael says, he’s the biggest sandbagger in Canada.” Sat in a large brown leather chair a few days later, looking … Continue reading →

A rod of steel covered in rubber, the footrest of Steve Keates’s Kawasaki Z650, stuck-out at a right angle. The footrest had no rubber on the underside; it was chewed like a lump of carrion. The rod of metal was … Continue reading →

The talk will include a whole host of quirky stories from new routing in Scotland over the last few years. Thin ice tapping and falling and success in New England, USA. An attempt at a new route on the unclimbed North Face … Continue reading →

The term ‘climbing’ covers a plethora of different disciplines – ice climbing, bouldering, traditional rock climbing, mountaineering, dry tooling, sport climbing, Scottish winter climbing, etc. It doesn’t matter which of these sub-cultures you are into, they are all as important … Continue reading →

El Delphin is an orange, semi-circular limestone arch in Rodella Gorge. Squirming through the jagged gap at the apex of the arch – head-jam, body-jam, knees pressed against rock – body-jam… squirm-thrutch-wriggle … thighs pumped, back scratched. Inching, inching, inching … … Continue reading →

A summer of a difference, (sport climbing in areas of Europe that I have not previously visited, The Ariage and Rodellar up to now and maybe some summer Alpinism) instead of traditional climbing in North Wales, which generally involves getting … Continue reading →

  “Well some of us have to work!” My sister said as Katy and I left her £500 000 home in the south of England on the way to climb for ten weeks in Europe. I don’t begrudge anyone who … Continue reading →

Sitting in the passenger seat of the Hippy’s new prized possession – a VW T-5 with a conversion to make it into something like a living room – Ballycastle high street, County Antrim, resembled the town I grew up – … Continue reading →

Spring, a time in-between. A waking. Fresh growth. Sticky green glistening buds.   Lambs balance on legs, legs not used to routine. See through plastic wrap around jackets to save them dying in the winter’s cold – gone.  Playing, growing, … Continue reading →