“I'm sorry, Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that.”

Before you read on...

The Kindle format is not ideal for books full of pictures. Yes, the ability to adjust font sizes is great for older climbers, and highlighting and saving notes is easy (select the text and save as a note). It's nice to have a 60,000-word book on your phone, but in terms of design and layout, it always looks a bit subpar. However, EPUB is what it is (like a 1990s web browser).

To get the most out of this book make sure your reader is up to date, and running the latest versions of EPUB. If you're seeing two sets of images, and wonky text, then that might be the problem.

In this book, many of the diagrams will appear small, but by double-tapping them, you can make them full size. Tap them again and they should zoom in further

If you really find this book useful, then I'd recommend getting the print version, as it not only looks much, much nicer but will also never run out of batteries.

No, the high wire is not what you think it is.
It is not the realm of lightness, space, and smiles.
It is a job.
Grim, tough, deceptive.

And whoever does not want to struggle
against failure, against danger,
whoever is not prepared to give everything
to feel that he is alive,
does not need to be a high-wire walker.
Nor could he ever become one.

As for this book–
this study of the high wire is not rigorous,
it is useless.

~ Philippe Petit, On the High Wire (1995)

WARNING

CLIMBING IS DANGEROUS

Enthusiasm is no substitute
for knowledge and experience

This manual is designed to equip climbers with the skills necessary to stay safe. However, rock climbing and mountaineering are inherently dangerous activities, and thus, this manual is intended for experienced rock climbers and mountaineers only.

No one should undertake climbing without the appropriate training or equipment and must assume personal responsibility for mastering the correct techniques and employing sound judgement. I strongly recommend that every climber seek instruction from a qualified professional if they are uncertain about any aspect of this manual.

By utilising the information contained within this manual, you acknowledge that its content might be outdated or inaccurate, and you agree that the author cannot be held liable for any damages arising from the use of this manual.

This book provides valuable information on subjects covered, including climbing, abseiling, and anchoring. It is specifically tailored for individuals actively engaged in rock climbing.

All content in this book, including text, graphics, images, exercises, techniques, and references to third-party materials, is for informational and educational purposes only.

The author and publisher of this book shall bear no liability or responsibility to any reader or third party for any injury or damage resulting from the application of the information provided in this book.

HOUSEKEEPING

"Some failures stem from lack of vision, and some failures from too much."

~ George Dyson

How To Read This Book

Someone once told me that when you plan to solo, you should just solo and not hamper that feeling of freedom and unencumbered movement with ropes, gear, and gadgets. Soloing should be just your mind and body, a pair of boots and a chalk bag. This free soloing is the truest expression of a climber's freedom, cruising up the rock, but even the best free solo climber, pushing their limit, may find a section of the climb where success is uncertain, where a fall would mean certain death. Scale this up to super-long routes and walls, throw in aid sections, or high and low temperatures, routes that may take more than a day, and all of a sudden, these things are beyond the free soloist (El Cap has yet to have a free solo ascent, although I guess it's only a matter of time). Here, the soloist must begin to employ these tools and gadgets, techniques and tricks; in order to find that solitude, they must invest in the art of rope soloing.

This book is split into three main sections:

Part I: Before the Wall covers all the stuff you need to consider before you go, including gear, training and fitness (more importantly, whether you should be going at all).

Part II: The Wall covers the actual techniques used on a big wall solo: leading, cleaning, hauling and belays.

Part III: Beyond the Wall covers more advanced techniques you may need to learn if you would like to progress onto harder climbs, speed ascents and alpine climbs, basically expanding your skill set to move beyond the big wall solo.

This book is not a general instruction book on big wall climbing, and the author expects that anyone reading this book already has an understanding of big wall climbing (aiding, hauling, rope climbing, etc.).

There are many things to do before soloing a big wall: planning, strategy, even just getting all your crap there! This section deals with the big and little things you need to do before you can get on the rock.

Weights & Measures

I know the only country to land a man on the moon using inches and feet, but being a euro, I have to stick to metric in this book: a shoulder-length sling being 60 cm, not 4 feet; a double-length sling 120 cm, not 8.

When discussing the cordelette, I'm talking about this in its standard form, being 7-metres of 7 mm cord.

Rope lengths are assumed to be 60 metres for double ropes, singles and rap lines (sport climbing ropes maybe 70 or 80 metres).

Weights are in kilos, and forces are in kilo-newtons.

I will use kN for short, WLL, standing for 'Working Load Limit' (which replaced the older Safe Working Load – SWL), and BL for 'Breaking Load' (which tends to be five times greater than the WLL).

Feedback And Updates

It is vitally important that this book is understood fully, for me as the author, you as the reader, and the future reader who might fail to understand something and end up hurting themselves. As I said, it is designed to be organic, so if you have any feedback or questions regarding this book or suggestions for more clarity (like a diagram).

Any feedback or questions can be forwarded via my website at www.andy-kirkpatrick.com (there are no dumb questions, just people dumb enough not to ask for help).

Acknowledgments

Many of the techniques I write about in this book came from either working it out by myself or with small clues from books and conversations, while others were learnt from the masters of soloing and big walls, who generously shared their knowledge. These include Pete "Pass the Pitons" Zabrok, Mark Hudon, John Middendorf, Royal Robbins, and Eric Sloan. There are also the countless people I talked to along the way, in the Lodge Cafeteria, Camp 4 car park and warm bars in Chamonix, asking for advice, which was always given.

And then some simply inspire in their ability to push the physical and mental limits, including Sílvia Vidal, Steve Schneider, Jim Beyer, Takeyasu Minamiura, Go, Abe, Lionel Daudet, Robert Steiner, Mike Libecki, Charlie Porter, Ed Drummond, Steve Bate, Dave Turner, Eric Kohl - and many, many others!

I would also like to thank the amazing Menna Pritchard for making me see this project through; still a big wall virgin but with the heart and strength of a big wall soloist. Lastly, I want to thank all those who have helped me get my words in some kind of order, including Aimée Feenan and Steve Murphy - without you all, it would have made even less sense!

FOREWORD

Sílvia Vidal

Solitude. That great companion that sometimes we look for and sometimes we avoid, depending on the moment and our needs.

Solitude. That great friend and ruthless enemy. She helps you, is with you, involves you. But also, she isolates you, condemns you, excludes you.

There are two types of loneliness, the ‘good’ one and the ‘bad’ one. You look for the ‘good’ one deliberately. The ‘bad’ one finds you unexpectedly. To be alone or feel alone; that is the question.

To write about solo climbing experiences, to start with, I feel a huge emptiness. Emptiness because of the empty words, the made-up phrases; typical concepts such as solitude, motivation, decision making, confronting doubts, responsibilities, fears – all return …

But straight away, all this emptiness begins to fill up with experiences, emotions, illusions, sensations and anecdotes – which are only that, anecdotes. But they are what allow you to write a story, your story. Personal and non-transferable, like the solo climb, like life itself.

I would normally write in front of a computer, where the words keep coming to me with more or less guaranteed success. But on this occasion, to write about solo climbing, I have had to use pen and paper. And now, in the early hours of the morning, I realise that I am disturbed by thoughts of the implications of solo climbing.

But now, in between lethargic somnolence and surrounded by silence, I am able to write.

Remembering what silence is; remembering that, without it, I cannot listen. Listen to the river, the glacier, the wind, rocks falling … and feel how the brain travels, transported by that silence, towards remote places full of it.

After a while, you realise that you do not write but that you are, pen in hand, smiling … and you can feel the cold in those extreme weather conditions and the weight of the haul bag. You remember some of the conversations you had with it: the red one, with horns and a tail. And you remember how it fought with the other one: the white one, with a halo and wings. And as you ask them for silence, to be quiet, with so much noise you could not hear anything, you become aware that you needed to hear in order to understand how much you wanted to be there. Alone.

You feel a connection with everything, with the memories, and you come back to the present moment, yet realise you are still connected. And then you realise that the connection was one of the presents that you took with you. And that present is a blessing and a danger at the same time because you know that you will want to play again. A game that is far from innocent but nevertheless, constructive and fulfilling.

That is the solo climb: dream first, act later and keep dreaming; so that afterwards, you can share everything that you have seen and felt, and explain that silence on the walls tells stories … your story.

Sílvia Vidal (2014)

Introduction

"It was a cherished experience. I feel I got to see the inner workings of the grand order of things. In the overall scheme of things, it proves that men can do about anything they want to if they work hard enough at it, and I knew that I could do it, and that leads, of course, to a strong suspicion that everybody else can do it if they want to."

~ Scott Carpenter, recalling his 1962 Mercury 7

Afew years ago, a friend called Steve Bate decided to undertake a solo of El Cap. Steve had never climbed a big wall before and had all but given up climbing; the reason being, he'd slowly begun to go blind, having only 10% vision left by the time I met him (he was also a Kiwi and ginger, but you can't do much about that). When he told me what was happening to him, that soon he could be blind, I said, "Wow – you'd better get out to the valley and solo El Cap before that happens" (a joke). I didn't see Steve for another six months, but when I next bumped into him and asked what he'd been up to, he said, "Oh, I've been hauling tyres in a quarry". I thought he'd got himself a job, but he'd been practising for his El Cap solo. "Who gave you that idea?!" I asked (the idea of a blind guy soloing a wall seeming pretty crazy), to which he replied, "You did".

Steve soon began asking me questions about the dark art of roped soloing on big walls, and, feeling somewhat responsible, I began emailing him answers – well, sort of.

I'd learnt to solo big walls the hard way, teaching myself using the limited written resources available. Doug Scott's old book Big Wall Climbing had some out-of-date information on rope soloing. There were some short chapters in Climbing Big Walls by Mike Strassman and Big Wall Climbing by Middendorf and John Long, but everything was vague, incomplete and required that you already knew how to solo a big wall (I hadn't climbed a big wall with a partner yet, so there was much to learn). Being super keen and motivated, with a real thirst for learning, I started at Millstone Edge, a local quarry, and learnt to aid by myself, which meant learning to solo simultaneously. I began by exploring the forces involved and how to move without being too sketchy, using a Clove hitch and backup knots. I would get a lift out to the crag on wet-weather days, climb all day (learning so much), and then go home in the dark to meditate on what worked and what didn't. I made a few mistakes, took a few falls, and stripped a rope jumping on it, but I built up my wall skills to the point where I could aid up easy routes, slowly but safely. This time spent training meant that my first aid route was the Shield on El Cap (A2+), a 900-metre wall, where I grappled with what I realised I had yet to learn but adapted quickly enough to succeed. On that trip, my partner Paul and I also climbed the Salathe and Pacific Ocean Wall (A4), the result being that I had accrued a solid set of skills for my next visit when I climbed Iron Hawk (A4) and Lost in America (A4). By this point, I had the core skills and could move well on a wall for many days, navigating the thinnest lines, but I wondered how I would cope on my own – the experience being all mine, success or failure unshared?

Being a little too driven and a little too short on time or money to waste a trip to the valley to do an easy route, I chose to make my first foray (also the most challenging route I've ever done), a seven-day solo of Aurora (A5). When I arrived, I bought a Silent Partner (still quite the most exotic piece of climbing kit) and sat at the bottom of pitch one, reading the instructions before setting off. While I sat there, feeding in rope and double-checking everything, the legendary Steve Schneider walked past and asked me what I was doing. Steve had climbed many routes on El Cap, but most impressively, he had made the first one-day solo of El Cap in 1992, so having him appear seemed like a good omen. "Erm – a Silent Partner", I replied, hiding the instructions behind my back. "Nice," said Steve as he walked on.

On that wall, I faced many perils due to my inexperience, getting heat stroke on day one being by far the worst, but I persevered through each setback, moved slowly and kept my mind on the job. When I reached the top, I felt that amazing sense of breaking through a barrier within myself, the same feeling I'd had when I climbed the Frendo Spur in winter as my first alpine route and then again when I soloed the North Face of the Droites. After this climb, this first solo, everything would be different (you can only really solo a big wall once; after that, you're always kept company by that first experience). Since then, I've soloed many walls and attempted many more – warm and cold, over weeks, sometimes days, sometimes hours – each climb built on the foundation of those early days, alone in that damp quarry.

And so when Steve emailed me, I would always give him the briefest of replies, always preferring to point him in some direction where he could learn the answers he sought, just like I had. I was showing, not telling. I know Steve found this very frustrating, never getting a straight "do this" or "do that", but months later, alone on Zodiac for a week, feeling (and falling) his way up the wall, he finally got it. Soloing is fundamentally about self-reliance; there can be no hand-holding, support or backup, pity or sympathy. I would not be there to show Steve the way; he would need to work out all these things from the start – and he did. Almost blind, Steve pulled off his solo.

I feel uncomfortable writing this book; after all (in many ways), I'm both showing and telling, giving you, the novice soloist, the benefit of all that information so hard won. But then what I have to share is so little compared to all that there is yet to learn; knowledge that is never complete, but learnt, forgotten, relearnt, adapted, dismissed and learnt again. This book is only the framework of all you will need to learn to pull off a big wall solo, nothing but a boilerplate onto which you can begin to dream, scheme and plan your greatest adventure.

Andy Kirkpatrick (2014)

01:Before the Wall

Learning

Most climbers don't have big walls on their doorstep on which to train, but they still need some way of learning the skills necessary to pull off a big wall solo. This section aims to give you some ideas on building your skills.

Where to start?

First, you must have a solid grasp of all general climbing techniques, including knots, devices (GriGri, ascenders, etc) and topics such as self-rescue. You will be doing a lot of training by yourself (in fact, all of it will be done by yourself), so it's vital that you can operate safely at the crag (set up top ropes, rapping, etc). Next, you should thoroughly understand aiding and big wall climbing, ideally having already climbed a few, as trying to learn this while learning to rope solo is asking a lot. I learned to do both at the same time – I would go out and practise on bad-weather days, and I knew no one would want to belay me for hours on end whilst I learnt how to do it, but I did make several big mistakes and came close to killing myself a few times due to a steep learning curve!

I'd also recommend you read up as much as possible from as many sources as possible, from books to the web, as well as emailing or talking to others who may have done it (email is good for getting it from the horse's mouth). When I started, I didn't know anyone who'd soloed a wall and could only find two pages in a book that held any information on the subject, so I had to make it up as I went along.

The most important thing is your willingness to learn, ambition to climb a wall alone, and patience. You should take each step slowly and learn from everything you do, questioning everything until you understand it (including everything in this book).

You can learn how to solo at a climbing wall, but you need to get outdoors onto the crag, so that's where we'll start.

Crag training

Almost any crag will do for learning to roped solo, but ideally, it should match the rock you plan to solo, so if you want to solo El Cap, then granite or quarried grit will work best. Solid cracks are ideal as they will allow you to practise setting up ground anchors and the ability to set up top rope anchors. My practise crag was Millstone Edge in Derbyshire, which, although a little loose at the top, provided a lot of great routes to practise on in the rain! Easy access is also important as you will often carry a load of kit to the crag.

When to train

I found that wet-weather days were ideal for training, and winter weather adds an extra degree of gnarliness that comes in handy later on during your big wall climbs. Climbing after work in the dark is also good, as the crags are empty, and you get a sort of 'otherworldly' feel when soloing (just you and your head torch). You can climb on good-weather days, but you often get a lot of stupid questions, people asking you what you're up to.

Looking after the rock

Avoid doing anything that may damage the rock, so no sky hooking or pegging. You can learn these very quickly once you get to the real wall (all simple, really; you hammer a peg in until it doesn't come out and hook an edge that holds a hook without popping). You should use the crag to learn how to move (using aiders and daisy chains) and work on your solo systems.

Self-lining

If you already know how to aid climb, I would begin by practising leading but on a top rope – also known as top rope soloing (TRS) or 'self-lining'. Please read my TRS book 'On the Line' for an in-depth book on the subject.

With your self-lining system all setup, you should solo a route, ignoring the top rope; everything from building an anchor to leading, placing protection and cleaning. Use the self-lining system both for leading and cleaning, as you can mess up on either when learning (it's easy to end up jumping up on a slack loop of rope held by a single piece of protection rather than the rope going to the belay).

After a while, you should forget that the top rope is there, and you will focus entirely on the protection, testing and moving, as well as understanding how the device feeds, when backup knots need tying, and all those little details that can make a big difference once you're doing it for real!

When practising like this, I recommend you always take a head torch as time passes faster than you thought possible, your concentration so focused, it will be dark before you know it!

Leading for real

Once you've got your confidence up with the soloing device and understand its complexities, you should begin doing some proper ground-up solo ascents. I would recommend doing super-easy free climbs, the type of climbs you'd solo without a rope (the climbing is not the point; the soloing is), further broadening your skills. As you get more confident, you can begin to push the grade up until you can lead routes as hard as you would with a partner.

Multi pitch

Once you feel you've nailed the single-pitch stuff, it's worth scaling it up onto some multi-pitch routes. Again, begin at the lowest grades and expect to take a long time, at least three times longer than usual. Pick accessible routes that are less well-travelled, or climb them at unpopular times (for example, Tennis Shoe on Idwal Slabs at night). Moving on to a giant canvas, dealing with a haul line and lead line, rapping, and cleaning will be invaluable (as well as coping with rope bags). As before, take it very slowly and avoid any 'oh shit!' moments. You will make mistakes, such as forgetting your ascenders, forgetting to clean, crossing over ropes, and maybe even the odd fall, but it should be in an environment that is more forgiving than a big wall. Remember also that most classic routes have short pitches, often less than 30 metres, so you can link two or three together at once with a long rope.

Training at the wall

If you have a very friendly climbing wall, then they might allow you to practise soloing on the wall. To do this, you will either need a good ground anchor (check the gym's ground anchors are full strength, as some wall's ground anchors are not!) or make one using several weighted bags or a combination of both. The ideal system would be a three-bolt belay ten feet off the ground to hang your haul bag from it and build a proper belay, allowing you to work through leading, rapping, cleaning, and hauling fully. Some walls are open early for maintenance and cleaning and will often let people on 'special missions' come in early, though on a wall; you can only really work on systems, rather than the act of self-belaying while putting in gear and testing, etc.

Hauling training

Practising having bags getting stuck, far-end hauling, and using different hauling systems before you need them is a great idea. Hanging from a rope close to the top of a wall, trying to remember what I wrote in this book and unsticking a bag is not ideal.

You can practise hauling to some degree at climbing walls or crags, but ideally, you need a location where you can build a low and high anchor and practise realigning and docking bags, as well as hauling. Hauling a bag full of rocks is great training, but make sure you line your haul bags well with cardboard and a mat, as rocks will wear through the thickest material in seconds if they touch rock.

When practising hauling, you should try and focus on:

- Releasing the bags

Practise undocking your bags and lowering them out by yourself.

- Lowering bags

This sounds easy, but with hefty bags, it can be tough, so practise lowering your bags down to the lower anchor or the ground via a monster Munter hitch.

The Body

They say that training is 80% physical and 20% mental in sports, while in the actual competition, this is reversed. It will feel 100% mental and 100% physical on a wall!  Soloing a wall will probably feel like the most exhausting thing you've ever done, squeezing every ounce of energy from your body. By the time you make it down, you'll feel like you'll never climb again (it never lasts!).

Training for the wall

Is training your body to solo a wall necessary? Well, no, and I know many climbers who have soloed walls with no extra training, but often, they have climbed many walls before and are already very active climbers. Doing extra training to deal with the strain of a solo ascent is a good idea, as it will allow you to absorb a bit more punishment, improve stamina and give your brain a little bit more clarity.

Training/climbing load

If you train at 100% and climb at 50%, you will function well on the wall – a variation on the 'work hard/play hard' idea, being 'train hard/climb easy'. It's virtually impossible to recreate the loading you'll get on a wall, but if you keep up your training daily and make it intensive, you will feel a difference.

The training you could undertake comes in three forms: STAMINA, STRENGTH and SPECIFIC training.

Stamina

Strength can be a factor on a wall, especially when it comes to hauling, the approach and the descent, but the aspect of fitness that plays the biggest part is stamina.

The grind of leading every pitch, rapping, cleaning and hauling is tremendous, and the toll on your muscles and joints is heavy. It's well worth trying to build up your overall stamina in the six months leading up to your climb. Doing this helps you recover better after each day, as well as staying on top of things throughout the day.

Here are a few ideas on stamina training:

- Running

The most common form of stamina training, running is a good way to build your base and is free (as long as you've got some trainers). I recreate the wall's intensity by running an hour daily, allowing my body to adapt to constant training. At the start, I could feel it each time I ran, but slowly, my body adapted stronger, and although I'm constantly pushing it, it just accepts the aches; this goes against the advice of rest days, but on a wall, you don't get rest days, and often your body will be sore from the day before. Hence, getting used to just moving is good.

I'm pretty obsessed with not getting any long-term (or short-term) injuries, so I keep the intensity of runs to a medium level, mixing in hills and flat terrain.

- Hill walking

Long days in the hills are ideal for big wall training, as unlike running, they draw on the real source of your stamina, long days grinding you down. I like setting myself some big objectives, like multiple summits (the Welsh 14 peaks being my favourite), as they require quite a bit of both physical and mental stamina (when you arrive at the last of the hills, you'll have to draw on all of your psyche not to give in, just as you will on the big wall). Getting out in the hills at night also helps to increase your ability to keep going (night navigation is great for this) and your ability to function under stress.

- Weighted hill walks

There is a lot of carrying heavy kit on walls, putting a significant strain on your legs and back. Carrying a weighted pack up hills (do reps on short hills) is a great way to build up stamina and strength in both those areas (your back is asked to take a lot of punishment on a wall). I use large plastic drink bottles (8 litres) filled with water and carry them up hills, going out for an hour or two (you'll soon get tired). By walking hard, you will feel it in your core, giving yourself even more of a workout than running. It's vital to save your knees, so I always try and work hard uphill, then empty out the water for the downhill (you can jog down, which looks impressive with an 80-litre pack on your back; who's to know it's just full of empty bottles?!).

- Rowing

Although sitting on a rowing machine may seem strange (more suited to training for an Atlantic crossing), it is one of the best exercises for hard walls and faces.  Rowing is low impact yet builds amounts of mental and physical stamina. Integrating a 20-minute session on a rowing machine three times a week will result in a considerable increase in fitness for a very low outlay of time (but not effort). Your target should be 5 km in under 20 minutes, throwing in the odd 10 km in under 40 minutes now and then.

Strength

By undertaking several months of intensive stamina training, you will naturally get stronger, but for some people, especially those who don't feel naturally strong, doing some strength work is recommended.  Hitting a gym three times a week for just an hour or two will make you stronger and more confident and reduce the chance of injuries.

I would ignore all the fancy machines in the gym or anything designed to give you a six-pack and instead stick to the simple program.

- 5x5x5 plus

This regime cuts out all the dead wood and means that you carry out five sets of five reps in five core exercises (deadlift, bench press, squat, barbell row, overhead press). The plus part of the name comes from the fact. However, you are aiming for 5x5 in each session; your actual goal is a little bit more, as often it's giving that extra 10% where you get the physical and mental strength; this means instead of five reps, you squeeze out just one more (five should be a killer anyway), and at the end of your five sets, again you squeeze out one more. Additionally, I would throw in an extra exercise for variation in each session to keep it fresh, using kettlebells to hit your heart as well (I like T-bar rows, but facing the bar and bringing it all the way up above my head). Going into further details about the exercises I list is beyond the scope of this book, but there is a huge amount of great information on the web (be aware that some information could be better!  

Doing this routine builds strength and stamina without killing you, so you can't train a few days later, and it only takes an hour or so.  A few other points to note:

Always warm up by doing the 5x50. 50-star jumps, 50 press-ups, 50 sit-ups, 50 pull-ups and 50 squats (you don't have to do all 50 in one, but make sure you do all 50).

Listen to your body and not your mind. If you feel something is wrong when exercising, back off and use that energy elsewhere. If your mind tells you it's too early or you're still tired, ignore it, as once at the wall, you'll have no such luxuries.

Focus more on doing exercises well than doing them heavy, even if this means the weight starts a little easier than you like. It's about being in control.

Keep notes of weights and exercises in a notebook.

Focus on your outcomes and remember what you're training for.

Always warm down by running, cycling or easy rowing.

Wall Specific

Training specifically for a wall is tough as you can only really do this while on a wall.  Nonetheless, climbing is climbing, so the more you do, the more this will transfer once you start your solo. One thing that often surprises people when I teach aid climbing is how physical it is, so just going through the motions of moving, stretching, and lifting will help your body prepare for the wall. Doing sessions at a climbing wall, just going bolt to bolt (as well as hauling), can play a part in developing the strength and stamina you need.

Is any of this necessary?

Big walling takes so much mental strength and toughness that, if you have this already, you can probably overcome a lack of fitness; being fit and prepared can be a game changer when things go wrong, so it's worth the effort, plus feeling fit feeds directly into a positive mental state.

The Mind

Soloing a wall is 80% mental and only 20% physical, which sounds OK, doesn't it, as getting your head read a climb can't be so bad? Unfortunately, 20% physical will be the most physical thing you will ever do, giving some idea of what 80% mental means. The mental side of a wall is where most solo ascents are made or fail, so this section is probably the most important one in this book.

The seed

Before you start, it's worth understanding where the germ on this plan comes from. Why do you want to solo a big wall? Is it based on something you read, a video you saw on YouTube, a slideshow, or maybe even this book? The reason for dreaming is worth understanding, as it may be called on many times – maybe even labelled as misguided or stupid – in the future. This solo seed will probably change as you embark on a solo project, especially your first, as the long road from 'idea' to 'action' will see many waypoints and junctions, taking months, maybe years. In this journey from the source to the sea, you may find that your motivations might change as you learn more about soloing a wall. Nonetheless, try and remember the seed of this ambition because, when things get hard, it could be the only thing with enough power to keep you going.

What is your motivation?

The ego climber: Some climbers want to solo a wall for their ego, be hardcore, and live the dream. In my experience, these climbers don't last long, as soloing a wall requires great humility and self-understanding; you need to understand that no one cares or understands just what it takes to solo a wall, and what kudos you may receive is in no way compensation for what you will give. Within a pitch or two, the ego will be pricked, and this climber will return to the ground with an excuse.

The quester: The other type of climber is the quester, a person who seeks out personal challenges, who sees and measures themselves as a Spartan, to undertake the hardest trials, be it a triathlon, the Nose in a day, or soloing a wall. This climber is generally very fit, self-contained (they tend to do a lot of self-motivated training alone), and understands themselves well. If you see yourself as this climber, you can flourish on a big wall, but only if you slightly lower your standards. The wall is like the sea; it will take all you have to give and swallow you up. Again, humility is important. You may feel indestructible, but this will not be a race where you can pull out; there will be no team car to pick you up by the roadside. You must temper your strength and stamina and go steadily at 50% because you may crumble if you go too hard. You can also make the mistake of seeing this as a purely physical game. Yes, you can climb the Nose in a sub-ten-hour time, but alone on a wall, five days in, when a hold breaks and you take a thirty-footer onto a copperhead, how psyched will you be?

The wallsmith: This climber style has spent much time on the wall, climbing many routes with partners, building up their skills, and learning their trade. The wall is respected but also understood, plus they understand their strengths and weaknesses and grasp just what undertaking a solo climb will be like. Once this climber understands the specialised techniques required to solo a wall (easy to grasp once you've climbed a few walls), their climb will unfold without too much trouble.

The overreacher: I've met many such climbers, those with little skill at climbing walls (sometimes none) and no experience at soloing apart from what they have gleaned from books and the web. Such climbers have developed an obsession with climbing a wall, fear they are not good enough to climb one with a partner, and so instead choose to solo one! This style of climber can often be confused with the ego climber, but what they tend to lack – and why they often do well – is any real ego; in fact, they often view themselves as crap (which is an advantage on a wall, as they are). These climbers, knowing their severe limitations, will climb slower than most (maybe one pitch a day) and take account of their crispness when working out the food and water they'll need to take, meaning they can spend as long as needed on a wall (a self-assured climber may run out of water due to a lack of understanding of themselves). These climbers will slowly work themselves through the pitches, applying a steady and systematic approach to each little problem, and so, in a battle of inches, they tend to do well and often get to the top.

The reason for isolating these 'types' of solo climbers is that, in reality, all solo climbers have some element of each type. Having a combination of the best attributes will greatly benefit the wall.

What the ideal solo climber needs

Below is a list of the skills, attributes and experiences that would help a solo climber pull off their first wall. This list is in no way exhaustive or prescriptive, as many solo climbers who have succeeded have had none of these traits, while others who have failed have had them all!

Humility: You must let go of your ego and view yourself as nothing; accept that your skills and knowledge are no match for this objective. Begin with the lowest expectations (such as one pitch a day) and build upwards.

Self-awareness: You must grasp what you are to solo a wall, even a little bit, as you will be alone and exposed to yourself more than at any other time in your life. I've met many who are non-self-aware, lie to themselves, and remain closed to themselves and the world. These people do not do well on the wall or in life. You must understand yourself stripped down to your essence. Once on the wall, self-understanding will increase, and your self-exposure can bring great truths about your character and darkness (there is nowhere to hide); perhaps this aspect of soloing a wall appeals the most and accounts for why people go back. It's also vital that you understand your body and how it reacts to a lack of sleep, reduced diet and the daily grind of being on a wall where everything is down to you. Having undertaken other 'trials' will help in this respect, allowing you to know that when you feel down, or your motivation is waning, it's because you need to eat an energy bar, or have a crap!

Self-motivation: Away from your friends and peers, you will need a high degree of self-motivation, as there will be no one there to spur you on or talk you around. Conversely, no one will talk you out of it or de-motivate you (a good and bad thing).

Self-control: Can you wake up at 5 am every day and go for a training run? Can you overcome your justifiable fears about dying on the wall, see them as natural, and keep on going? Can you focus on the reason for the fear and press on without being overcome and bailing? High self-control is vital on a wall, both in leading (as with all climbing) and especially when soloing.

Mountain experience: In my experience, the climbers who do best on a wall are those who grasp the fact that climbing a big wall is not rock climbing. Alpine or mountain climbing is the same; it has some rock climbing, but it is generally much more than that. Instant gratification is not the aim; you strive for something more intense and longer lasting. Having some background in climbing in the Alps tends to give climbers that extra grit needed to push on when things stop being 'fun'.

Wall experience: I would advise a would-be soloist to do the basics of an apprenticeship, starting with easy walls, preferably in Yosemite (where you can 'climb' without all the hassle of mega approaches, etc.). Ideally, you should develop your skills on such walls to the point where you feel comfortable and know your strengths. You can ask yourself on such walls, "Could I cope up here alone?" I climbed four walls before my first solo (The Shield, Pacific Ocean Wall, Iron Hawk and Lost in America), but climbing a wall harder than any I had done before probably set the bar too high. It would be better to build up your skills and then choose a wall with a grade lower than what you've already done, such as Zodiac or Lurking Fear.

Self-empathy: To survive and thrive on a wall, you must develop self-empathy or the ability to love yourself; this may sound a little wild, but the soloist calls on their body and mind to go beyond the norm, placing great strain on every fibre of their being to get to the top of a lump of rock. If you view yourself as impenetrable and solid as the rock, you may be able to get so far (viewing yourself like some hero), but slowly, cracks will begin to appear, and you will crumble. Instead, you allow yourself some measure of self-empathy, not all the time, but maybe each evening or how you approach each day.
A good example of this is how, on my first solo wall, Aurora (A4) on El Cap, I wore myself down by trying to climb two pitches every day (leading, rapping, cleaning and hauling) until I was thoroughly wasted. I got so tired trying to stick to this standard I'd set that I would fall asleep as soon as I lay in my portaledge or wake up with a half-eaten bagel. I was starting in the dark and finishing in the dark. Then, one day, I dropped my head torch (I found it in a tree when I got down – this was the second time I'd dropped it off El Cap and found it), after which I was restricted by how long I could climb. Suddenly, I began climbing in the light and had to finish in the light, requiring a much more human approach to myself. I learnt that allowing myself to climb and clean one pitch, but to clean and fix the next (cleaning it the next day), wasn't so bad. Better still, I suddenly found I was recovering, enjoying the climb, and having time to chill at the end of the day. The wall became fun, not a race against myself.
I often try and think of myself as someone else I care about (like my mum) and think, "What would I do if my mum was soloing this wall?" The bottom line is you need to treat yourself like someone you love.

The Selfes

The idea of the self is one I use a lot for soloing. The basic principle is to view yourself in the context of past, present and future selves. Each affects the other, and each owes allegiance to their other selves. In the same way that a climbing team is formed of several individuals (and their relationships and support for one another), the same applies to yourselves.

A good example of this comes in planning a climb. Ask yourself how well your future self will cope with the objective that your present self is picking. The same applies when picking your food. If you take the time to pick some little treats, caring for a future self rather than just being tough on yourself, then that future self (when the present self) will look back at its past self and be thankful. One useful reason for this approach is that you often create things that may not be directly important to you as your present self; you could skip or skimp on things in the present, but you are leaving your future self to take up the slack.

Imagine you're leading a thin pitch, and you come across a few pieces of protection close together. If you think about your future self, you could equalise them all together and form a mini belay so that, higher up, your future self would feel a little safer, or you could clip each piece and trust your future self just to keep climbing.

Perhaps the most important use of this concept comes down to being able to press on with the project or the climb. You will feel great doubts about yourself and what you are undertaking, but looking back at your past self and trusting that judgement, free of the fear of the present, may help push you on. There will also be many times, usually early on the climb, when you want to retreat, with the ground still close. On those occasions, you must focus on all the hard work and effort of your past self, as well as the disappointment of your future self, who may view retreat in the present as just weakness.

Keeping on going

There will be many crises around a climb, doubts about your plans and dreams, and deep feelings of fear and trepidation; in these moments, you need some way of pressing on.  One method is to have a mantra that you use to ignore the negative, such as "If I keep climbing, I will get to the top", or a little story, such as when Royal Robbins made the first solo of El Cap (he almost bailed, but decided to place 'one more piton'). You recall that that had led to the next one and the next until he succeeded and reached the top.  

My favourite is perhaps a variation on the 'Invictus' theme of being the captain of my fate. In it, I visualise an old gnarled hand on the tiller of a small fishing boat tossed around in the ocean. There is every reason why the hand should turn and return to port, but the fisherman is not scared; he understands the sea and stays on course.

Hurdles

Several things will happen to you on a wall (and on your way to the wall, as well as after the wall) that will be hurdles to your ambition. Knowing that others have experienced them before can help, as well as having the self-empathy to accept that they are natural and to be expected. Here is a list of the main hurdles you may encounter.

- Loss of motivation

There are but a few undertakings that can put so much pressure on a person's motivation than soloing a wall over days or weeks. There will be many ups and many downs; you will feel low at times and want to bail, you will be scared, and you will fear you are going to die. All your grand ambitions and dreams will be nothing in the face of darkness and the storm, and there will be times when there is no valid reason not to retreat. STOP! You must understand that on a solo wall, there will be many storms and clouds, as well as sunshine, that will pass across your spirit, but remember that they will pass.

To succeed, you must never retreat in haste unless it's obvious that you have no choice. Simply stopping and taking stock is always the best option. Perhaps the great British obsession with drinking tea lies behind many of its successes, as in tough times, people would invariably 'stop for tea'. The process of putting on a 'brew' allows you to take a little breather, to think about things, to allow a little of the pressure to be released. Remember that you owe it to your past self not to squander the hard work and graft it has put in. Years of planning, a fortune in kit and travel, and days of toil can be undone in an hour or two if your present self can crumble and bail. Adopting a high level of self-empathy can reduce this problem greatly.

Keep in mind that 'tomorrow is another day' and what may seem impossible today may seem straightforward tomorrow.

- Loneliness

If you go to solo walls, you must deal with loneliness. From my experience, it seems that people are either born with the ability to operate alone or not. The 'loner' is someone who has always been happy doing their own thing, is self-contained and self-motivating, something they have done since childhood. The opposite of this is someone who needs people around them to feel content, needs people to spur them into action, to talk, discuss, laugh and work together for a common goal.  A soloist has a common goal, but it is with their past, present and future selves.  

I will come to loneliness on the wall, but perhaps the most difficult loneliness comes before and after the climb, as you will often be planning, training, travelling and living alone. You can be in a hustling place like Yosemite, with hundreds of people around you, laughing and being social, but you are still alone. Often, the more people around you, the more isolated you will feel, and this could seriously jeopardise your chances of achieving your solo climb. I would advise undertaking a solo project with a group of mates, as they will both be company and supportive (knowing you have mates keeping an eye on you is great, and they can help you lug your kit to the climb).  

If you have no support around you, then it's vital to get a grip on this loneliness while on the ground. Try to escape from your thoughts, like a book or film on your iPad or phone, switching your focus from within to without. Try and stay busy, and be mindful that this isolation is only fleeting.

- Fear

Nothing will impede your dreams more than fear, both dreams of soloing a wall and dreams in general. You cannot short-circuit your brain to be un-fearful, but you can get a handle on it through experience and just getting on with it.

First, you must understand that fear is like an alarm set to warn you when there is danger. But who sets the sensitivity of this alarm comes down to you, your experience, and how well you've dealt with fear in the past. By serving an apprenticeship in climbing walls, you are building up your skills and strengths and slowly turning down the sensitivity of this alarm. The idea of hanging from a sky hook used to terrify me and would keep me awake at night; the first time I hung from one (on the Shield), I almost shit myself. But my fear was irrational. I imagined that the metal hook would bend open under my weight or that the rock would break, but neither happened. Slowly, I learned that hooks were so strong you could take daisy falls onto them (well, some styles anyway), that granite was as hard as steel, and hook edges were matchstick thin and would not crumble. Years later, I would lead pitches comprising just hooks (such as the crux pitch of The Shortest Straw) and consider the whole pitch A1. I returned my mental response to hooks from irrational to rational. By removing the blind fear, I was, in fact, safer (rushing from a good placement to a bad one due to fear is a prime cause of accidents), and allowed the real alarms to ring when I needed them (for example, when a hooking flake was loose). You need to control your fear of climbing well on a wall (or any hard climb). Otherwise, it will just gum up your brain. Try instead to learn how to focus and apply rationality to your fears. Stop and ask yourself, "Why am I scared?" when you feel the fear rising.  A good example is when you rap down your haul line, which is often free-hanging. You slide down, your body suspended hundreds of metres up, and you naturally get a frisson of fear. Stop and ask yourself what the problem is. You have a rope that can hold a car; it's attached to solid bolts via sturdy karabiners, so what's the problem? In such moments, I often try to use fear as a source of energy and flip it from fear to excitement (they are so closely related it's easy to do).  

There will be many moments on this journey where you will no doubt encounter fear, from mild fear easily shaken off by an internal 'talking to' to fear so total it will drain the blood from your body.

Identifying and categorising fear:

Mild fear

Although the most common emotion for a soloist, this is not fear at all. It usually manifests as a background hum of fear – static; people describing themselves as 'worried' or 'scared' about what is to come, the start of the climb, the pitch you must lead tomorrow, committing to a skinny rope running over a sharp edge. The greatest threat from this fear is that it's a Petri dish for negative thoughts and failure. Within this hum of fear, you begin to magnify both the danger and the task at hand, and the fear feeds on itself until you either bail before you've begun or you find the power to overcome it. First off, this is not fear; this is anxiety, and it is normal; it is your primitive brain trying to prepare itself for fight, flight or freeze.  Like an animal, you are about to enter a situation in which there is a chance you may be killed or injured (after all, you don't feel like this when you walk around Ikea!). It is important to recognise this anxiety and deal with it point by point until you can dim it enough to move on. Here are some examples of how this might manifest:

Thought: What if I make a mistake and kill myself?
Answer: I've been training and practising for over a year; I've climbed harder single pitches at home, as well as in the rain, storm and darkness.  

Thought: I know I've done lots of training, but this would be a real solo on a big wall!
Answer:: Think about it rationally; it's just a bunch of single-pitch routes, one on top of the other. If I can climb one safely, then I can climb them all.

Thought: But what if I get to the crux ten pitches up and I can't do it?
Answer: I believe I can do it, and I have all the skills and tools needed to climb that pitch. Maybe it's just one move, who knows, but I know I can do it.

Thought: It's easy to say that now, but what about when I'm up there looking at a huge fall onto a ledge?
Answer: I will place solid gear and test everything. I will equalise runners as I go to make mini-running belays. I had offset cams, beaks, and stuff they didn't have when these routes were done.

Thought: But what if I can't?
Answer: Then I accept that I may fail and will back off if I think it's not justifiable. Even if I fail, I know it is better to try and fail in doing it, not thinking of it.

And so this kind of anxiety needs to be dealt with through:

Technical knowledge: Learning as much as you can about the technical side of this type of climbing.

Technical training: Employing this knowledge in real-world training.

Beta: Knowing your route.

History: Knowing what others have done and the ordeals they overcame helps a lot.

Physical confidence: Understanding your body and how it will perform.

Faith: Not in God (although that could help), but in your past ability to deal with problems.

Positivity: Although it's hard, nine times out of ten, any situation you worry about will turn out OK, so try and stay positive, even if you only fake it.

Experience: This is the most important one of all. Even if you haven't soloed a wall, you've done a lot of cool stuff in the past that you can draw on. It would help if you had a data bank from which you could pull up little 'fear apps' to counter negative thoughts. For example, when you go to lead the crux pitch the next day, think back to how you felt on other climbs and how these climbs turned out.

When you experience real heart-pounding fear, you know mild fear for what it truly is, not fear at all. This kind of fear is unpleasant (it's best not to get into the habit of enjoying it) but is part of the game and needs to be viewed as a sharpener for the senses.

Sharp fear

This is piano-falling-out-of-a-window-and-just-missing-you fear; striking hard and fast, the nature of the close-call determining how long the aftershock lasts. What triggers this response varies depending on experience and what may have you shitting your pants as a beginner (such as a karabiner shifting as you hang on it) but won't even raise an eyebrow a few routes on. The more experienced you become, the faster you tend to deal with a redlining heart, and you can rationalise what scared you; this is not to say you should ignore sharp fear, but in my experience, it tends to come after the danger has passed. If it hasn't (a good example being a flake moving when you start climbing on it), then it's paramount that you maintain control to escape the situation, be that fight or flight.

Rolling fear

This is the most difficult fear to deal with and is a slowly increasing sense of alarm/danger/deep anxiety that can cling to you for minutes, hours or even days. If you're in this constantly scared state, you will not be able to act or think clearly, and worst still, you'll have a really crap time! The first wall was very much like this for me, as I didn't have the experience to feel comfortable and so unthinkingly pushed on (getting to the belay being my only sanctuary). On a wall, alone, you could feel this sense of fear and dread even more, but being forced to face these things alone enables you to do a better job. The idea of just 'switching off' doesn't work that well, but you can use positive thinking and language to tune out this fear.  Instead of viewing the wall as something malign and dangerous – out to kill you – think of it as a crafty opponent, each piece you place (or move you make) a victory in a chess match. Use positive language, such as saying "train stopper" each time you place some good gear. Focus on the fun, the adventure, the place – how you're doing something beyond hardcore – that you are thriving and enjoying every minute. Try to have a smile on your face.

Again, think of fear as signals from your primitive and paranoid brain, but don't let them stop you from having fun. Out-think the fear.

Failure

You will fail on projects, even some you've spent much mental and physical treasure on. Don't sweat it; it's only natural. When you get to the ground, don't beat yourself up. Getting to the top is awesome, but getting down safely when you bail is pretty good, too – and sometimes getting down is harder. Take a moment to feel good about being alive and capable of getting down alone – a skill that may allow you to get to the top next time (knowing you can bail is often a vital part of not bailing).

Give yourself a few days to get over retreating and then revisit why you bailed. Was it justified and rational, or did you lose your bottle? Be easy on yourself, and remember that what you're attempting to do is very hard. Question your motivation for trying in the first place. Did you grasp how hard it would be? Did you, or the climb, live up to your expectations? Why did you fail, and should you try again?

If you conclude that soloing is, in fact, not for you, then accept it. Maybe it never will be; maybe it's too soon, and you must do some smaller walls first. Maybe you should stick to climbing with other people?

Solo Tools

The fundamental idea behind all rope soloing techniques is to belay yourself instead of being belayed by a partner. To catch a fall, you utilise either a piece of hardware (a device) or a technique (such as a knot). It's important to understand as many of these methods as possible to be flexible and adapt to different situations, as the situation may require you to switch from one to the other. I have chosen to leave out several historical systems used on solo ascents (for example, Charles Cole used an ascender attached to a rope running through his belay device), focusing instead on the core tools, which I have split into knots and mechanical.

Knots

If you are new to rope soloing, then you should start here, as the use of knots is how climbers soloed routes in the past, and the drawbacks of slowness and inability to pay out remotely mean their use will force you to understand the limits soloing brings. They are also the simplest and safest system for self-belay, and as a foundation skill, you may need to call on them when complex systems fail.

- Clove hitch

By far the best, safest and most foolproof self-belay method for rope soloing on big walls, where the climbing will be predominantly aid. The reason for its effectiveness is that you are always tied into the rope with a knot, and even when loosened, it will still catch you in a fall.

You should already know how to tie a Clove hitch, so the next important part is connecting yourself to the knot. It would be best to connect the knot via karabiners to your belay loop so that the karabiners have flexibility and reduce twisting or cross-loading. The knot works best on an asymmetrical-shaped karabiner, so an oval or HMS would work best. This style of karabiner, by its nature, is weaker than a D-shaped karabiner, so this must be considered. I often use this method on a single HMS when roped soloing during short fixing on speed climbs, but for extended soloing, over days or longer, you need to eliminate the slim chance of breaking your karabiner in fall (this has happened). To attain greater security, you can double up your connector karabiners, say two ovals or two HMS karabiners (gates opposed), or employ a steel maillon (a kind of shackle that tends to be more secure than a karabiner). With either method, it's also recommended to safeguard the locker(s) from spinning around to eliminate cross-loading. Several good karabiners on the market feature a system designed to stop cross-loading that can work well (such as the Black Diamond GridLock or Rock Exotica Pirate WireEye Auto-Lock); a large karabiner is also a little easier to handle when using the Clove hitch. One karabiner that may appear to be a winner (but which I find never works well) is the design that features a locking flap (DMM Belay Master); the locker often pops open or is lost altogether (I would never trust a single HMS using this system alone).

One bonus of using two karabiners is a slight decrease in the rope jamming up tight. if you fall, having two karabiners allows you to pull the knot apart a little easier.

Once you have tied the Clove hitch, it can be adjusted with one hand as long as you don't pull it tight accidentally (never place your fingers within the knot when loosening, as they will break or even be sliced off if you fall while doing so!). The downside of the Clove hitch is that on anything but a snail's pace, it's a pain in the arse, so it's worth avoiding micro adjustments and instead paying out a metre or more of slack at a time (or a placements' worth), meaning that after every placement, you pay out enough slack to make the next.

One variation is to clip a karabiner into the knot, which will allow you to pull out slack one-handed with practice (you pull up a loop, then as you move, this loop is sucked back into the knot). The downside is that if this karabiner were to clip into something in a fall, it could stop the knot from cinching tight (though you will still have your backup knot). The one situation in which this technique works better than the norm is when you're faced with some easy free climbing (you will need one hand free to pay slack), although it's worth practising this beforehand, so you understand its limitations.

This technique is important because you can use the Clove hitch as long as you have a rope. Devices get dropped or stop working in tough conditions (some don't like ice and snow, which don't affect knots), so having this as a core skill can save your ass.

- Figure 8

The Figure 8 knot can be used on easier ground and tends to be tied with plenty of slack, allowing you to make a few moves and then tie another one (you could even pre-tie several knots). The downside is that Figure 8 is tough to tie one-handed, and you must be careful when switching between one knot and the other. One way to do this is to use two screwgates back to back, clipping the new knot into one, then the other, and then unclipping the old knot in the same style (this means you always have a knot through both karabiners). Although used for alpine-style soloing, Figure 8 is of minimal use for rope soloing anything but a few metres (I've used it only once, crossing a rock slab on a solo of the Droites).

Mechanical Devices

The modification of existing and dedicated soloing devices resulted from a need for a self-feeding system, allowing the soloist to free climb and climb faster. The drawbacks are that these systems are more open to failure, as many are not designed for soloing and expose the user to great risk; they are 'off the grid' and heavier and more expensive than just tying a knot. Nonetheless, due to need, people have accepted these limitations, feeling these devices still improve the margin of safety. There are several mechanical devices people have adapted for use for soloing, but only three are designed for the job.

- ‘Off label’ devices

Using the devices below, you should fully understand that you employ a mechanical tool for something beyond its specifications. You must understand these limitations and their consequences, as the use of these devices has led to several accidents and many near misses, and perhaps they should be viewed as closer to the solo proclamation of "You must not fall" than dedicated, specialised, solo devices (such as the Silent Partner). If using any of these devices, you must employ a backup knot.

I repeat, none of the following devices are designed for rope soloing or intended to be modified in any way. Any such use or modification is at the owner's risk!

GriGri (unmodified)

Although it's not meant for rope soloing, the Petzl GriGri is by far the most popular rope soloing device on the market (the Mark I is much better than the Mark II and highly prized), probably due as much to its relatively low price as well as people's experience of using it, rather than its safety record as a solo tool (Note Petzl have expressly said DON'T use this device for roped soloing).

The GriGri works the same way as when belaying, locking up when the rope is loaded, only in this situation, the device is attached to the falling leader, not the belayer.

If you use a GriGri all the time, you will fully understand its capabilities, meaning you also know its drawbacks (if you haven't used one, then don't employ it as a soloing device until you've mastered it). On a solo ascent, it's relatively easy for the handle to become tangled or snagged, so stop the unit from locking off, meaning you'll fall onto your backup knot. I know of two friends who have had their GriGri fail in this way, one when the rope became wrapped around an arm and so didn't have enough force to lock down the device (resulting in a deep rope burn), while another had her fifi hooks jam in the device and hold it open. I've used the GriGri a few times and have taken two falls, one that it caught, the other that it didn't (I was saved by an aider clipping into a piece of gear on the way down!). Another problem is that the device can only be attached by one karabiner and, unlike a knot, has a good chance of loading the karabiner badly (a British soloist took a monster lob off El Cap a few years ago when the DMM Belay Master attached to his GriGri snapped – being saved by his backup knot). For this reason, when using a GriGri, I would use a steel maillon to attach it to my harness and make sure I always have a backup knot, as well as reducing any clutter that could foul the handle (having a chest rig will help keep the amount of gear at harness level to a minimum).

Unlike some dedicated devices, it's worth using thinner ropes to allow smooth running and the balance point between your backup knot, device and live rope to be more acute.

A GriGri is a handy device on a wall, great for hauling and cleaning, so you may have one in addition to a dedicated device, giving you a further option to employ if a primary device is lost.

Some climbers modify their GriGri to allow the rope to feed more smoothly or attach a loop of cord or wire so they can fix it to a chest harness (the idea is to keep the device orientated in a manner that further improves the rope's ability to feed smoothly). Both involve drilling or filing the device, which compounds the feeling that you're doing something wrong (again, Petzl expressly tell people NOT to do this).

- The modifications

- Chest loop

By drilling a small 4 mm hole in the side of the device (and through the plastic base plate), you can thread a loop of cord (3 mm) or wire (it needs to be swaged); this is used to clip your GriGri into a chest harness, sling or bungee, keeping the device orientated in such a way that the rope feeds more easily. The major downside is that, by locking it to your chest, you reduce the likelihood of the device locking in a head first fall (many aid falls are head first). By allowing the device to be mobile, you don't restrict its ability to lock.

- Rope groove

Where the rope feeds in, there is a flat section of aluminium (the bent-over flap of the sliding plate of the device). By filling a more rope-friendly notch (round off anything you file), you can get the rope to feed more smoothly. The drawback is that the more easily the rope feeds, the greater the load required for the cam to lock (there are no published results for GriGri modifications, so I'm going by my gut feeling). Many climbers who have employed this mod use the device in alpine situations where they have minimal gear, often using ropes far thinner than the spec of the device (8 mm), and are taking the mindset that they are as close to free soloing anyway.

- Would I make these mods?

I've used modified GriGris as well as unmodified ones, and although sometimes it may have felt like there was a slight advantage, there's always that niggling doubt that you've messed with something that shouldn't be messed with. I also know many hard soloists who use unmodified devices with no problems, so perhaps these mods just come down to tweaking for the sake of it, where, in fact, just getting to know the devices' limitations is just as effective (and a little less risky).

Guide plate

The guide-style auto-locking plate (Petzl Reverso, Black Diamond Guide, etc.) can be used as a primate rope soloing device, but this tends to be of primary use for those doing alpine soloing with very skinny ropes (again, being close to free solos in mentality). Clip the device onto your belay loop as you would in auto-locking mode, with the rope moving through the device as you climb. If you fall feet first, the rope will pull upwards instead of down, and the locking karabiner will catch you; if you fall upside down, it won't. I would use this system with great caution as the device itself is not designed for this type of dynamic force, and it lies in the shady techniques used by alpine soloists who know how sketchy this technique is. However, as with all techniques, it's worth understanding, as you never know!

Rope Solo Devices

The only company making dedicated devices is Rock Exotica in the US (they traded under the name Wren for a while). They are a highly specialised company making all sorts of strangeness. Still, the quality of what they make is unquestionable, and I've taken lobs (some very long) onto every one they make.

- Rock Exotica Soloaid

The Soloaid is best described as a mechanical Clove hitch, allowing climbers to grab slack more easily as they climb. It's also small, compact, relatively cheap, and provides great security. I used one of these when trying to solo a new winter route on the Troll Wall, and although it was great for aid when it came to free climbing (I switched to the Rimmon route), it was a non-starter. The plus point is that the device works if you fall head first, but perhaps it's best to stick with a Clove hitch.

- Rock Exotica Soloist

The Soloist probably has the best pedigree of any soloing device and has been used on many of the big solo climbs of the past two decades, including all Catherine Destivelle solos (Eiger, Dru and Matterhorn), Jeff Lowe on Metanoia on the north face of the Eiger, and many other big walls around the world. Unlike the Soloaid, this device allows free movement with no self-feeding required, a boon for those who need to climb free.

Unusually, the device is tied to your harness through the leg and waist loop (I use a double loop of 7 mm rope), meaning you eliminate a weakness by removing the karabiner from the system. A rope (10 mm works best) is placed inside the device, a block of milled alloy with a slot milled out of it and locked in place by the cam, which is held in place by a thick pin. This pin is then locked in place by the karabiner used to hold the device to a chest harness, creating a very secure system.

The rope feeds through the device very smoothly, and if you develop a good understanding of your backup knot loop/live rope ratio, you can climb close to your limit. In a fall, the cam works like a GriGri (it is not sprung, though), locking down on the rope, but unlike a GriGri (due to the enclosed nature of the cam), the cam can't be fouled, snagged or tangled. The big problem with the unit, as with the GriGri, is that it won't work in an upside-down fall, which is a pretty big problem, as it's easy to take upside-down falls when aid climbing.  The chest harness is designed to reduce this problem, but this drawback will always be in the back of one's mind when using it. It's worth noting that, although the GriGri has many drawbacks, it should lock in a head first fall if unattached to a chest harness. Luckily, the Soloist has been superseded by the Silent Partner and only has a place (along with the GriGri) for winter soloing, where it has the advantage of having fewer moving parts and is, therefore, less prone to freezing up.

- The Silent Partner

The pinnacle of mechanical soloing devices, perfect for aid or free, safe in any fall, and used on solos such as Hans Florin's ascent of the Nose and Half dome in a day!

The Silent Partner is best described as the locking mechanism in a seat belt; it will allow the rope to run smoothly at a low speed but lock once a high speed is reached; this mechanism is inside a polished steel barrel, around which a Clove hitch is tied. The barrel rotates, allowing the knot to run, then locks down when you pull too fast. The strength of the unit, both in the way it's designed to be used (attached by two karabiners) and its simplicity (nothing to snag and foul it), makes it the best soloing device by miles.

History

The Silent Partner was designed by Mark Blanchard, a Yosemite climber and soloist who found the usual Clove hitch method too slow for harder free climbing. He played around with the idea of having a Clove hitch tied around an inertia wheel, producing a prototype in the 1980s and used by Steve Schneider during his first one-day solo of El Cap's Nose. Mark soon realised that selling such an advanced product exposed him to be liable for its misuse, so he sold the design to Rock Exotica (who already had the solo belay device sewn up with their Soloist and Soloaid). Unfortunately for big wall soloists, Petzl then bought Rock Exotica, and so the design disappeared for many years, only appearing again when Rock Thompson (the owner of Rock Exotica) set up Wren to market the device (since then, Thompson has split Rock Exotica from Petzl and now sells the Silent Partner again).

How it works

The concept is based on the humble seat belt, designed to allow the webbing to be pulled out at a slow speed but lock when shock-loaded (however, in this case, the webbing is replaced by a rope). This inertia wheel is set within a thick steel drum, which is set within an alloy frame that can be twisted open for access. To use, you first tie a Clove hitch in your rope and slip this over the drum, which, due to its rotation (it rotates both ways), stops the knot from locking; this means the rope feeds smoothly, allowing free climbing and aid to take place with very little maintenance of the device. The device is attached to your harness via the belay loop using two locking karabiners set back to back. In a fall, the drum is rotated quickly, causing it to lock, which in turn locks the Clove hitch, and voila, your ass is saved!

The beauty of the Silent Partner is:

It has no cam aggressively biting down on the rope but is locked by a knot.

The device works in any direction (up, down, sideways), meaning it will lock in a head first fall (a Soloist or GriGri may not).

As long as you tie a Clove hitch, the device is almost foolproof and will lock even if the rope is secured incorrectly (it will lock if pulled tight in either direction).

The downsides with the Silent Partner are:

It’s quite bulky;

It's probably not a good choice for sub-zero conditions (as the inertia wheel may freeze).

Overall, there is nothing on the market that comes close to functioning so well.

Thoughts on the attachment of the Silent Partner: The device is secured using two locking karabiners to provide redundancy and security. Some have questioned the need for two karabiners, but these provide redundancy against cross-loading or climber error. Others feel it wastes time to do up two karabiners, but again, it only takes a few seconds (if you want to save time, use a locker and a plain gate). I've wondered about using two Maillon links instead of Karabiners in the past, but I have concluded that this would be overkill. Use two Petzl locking oval karabiners, as being the same shape as their mate in any direction keeps things tidy.

A further note on the attachment point is that I would get a secondary belay loop sewn on your harness for attaching the device (leaving the second one for daisy chains, etc).  

Further to this, I have also played around with creating a separate attachment system designed to reduce the risk of an inverted fall. To do this, I create a belay loop using 7 mm rope or 5.5 mm Dyneema tied between my chest harness; this lifts the load point above the waist and helps keep me upright in a fall. A secondary benefit is that the chest harness takes a higher percentage of the 'pull' on the device while leading, meaning your waist harness is not dragged down as much.

If you choose to make such a loop, then make sure the length is set so that, in a fall, the device will not strike you in the face.

Equipment

Aid climbing is a gear freak's dream, with tons and tons of fancy hardware and software needed to pull off a climb. It's also very gear-reliant, not just the gear you plug into the rock, but also haul bags, bivvy kit and fancy self-belay gadgets. If you're not a gearhead, then big wall soloing is not the sport for you.

Ropes

You should treat your ropes as living things, always touching, moving and treating them with the utmost care and respect. These lengths of twisted nylon are the glue that sticks a climb together, the bridge that spans gravity and death, the means of your success or your retreat, but always your survival.

On a solo ascent, your ropes will be pushed hard, leading, rope climbing, rapping and hauling, so good quality cords are vital. At the same time, you must consider weight, bulk and their dynamic properties. On a remote wall, weight can be a big factor, as a solo climber must carry all the weight on their shoulders, so they may choose a 10 mm lead rope and a 9 mm static-haul line; a Yosemite climber might go for a 10.5 mm lead rope and a 10 mm static rope, as they only have a short approach.

- Lead Ropes

Diameter

I've used ropes from skinny 9.2 mm to chunky 11 mm, each with pros and cons. A skinny rope tends to wear faster and causes more concern when faced with lots of rope climbing over edges and when looking at falls on the same edges. Their plus sides are low weight, bulk and great dynamic properties (vital on walls with very low-strength protection (copperheads or bird beaks)). Thick ropes, on the other hand, are seen as 'work' ropes; they are heavy, bulky and withstand much higher impact forces; the overall upside is that they last longer and provide more reassurance over edges and resilience to general wall abuse. A problem worth noting with a thicker rope is that it won't move as smoothly through your self-belay device, which can have a bearing when free climbing, as the heavier the rope, the smaller the backup loop you need (a bigger backup loop allows you to climb further without resetting your backup knot). Of course, between these two ropes, you have the intermediate ropes, such as the 10.5 mm, which offer a compromise between these two extremes. I have found that ropes between 10 mm and 10.7 mm work fine on most walls.

Length

The minimum length for a lead rope should be 60 metres – the standard length these days. One of the best things about roped soloing is that there is zero drag as you are lying from the leader's end (rather than from the belayer), so you travel alone and through the protection line. A soloist could zigzag a rope all over a pitch and still have total freedom; this allows the leader to link pitches together with total ease; this can pay dividends as it is the setting up of the belay, rapping, cleaning and hauling that eats up a lot of time, not the leading.  

A great example of this was my attempt to solo the West Face of Leaning Tower in a day when I linked the first four pitches with a single 80-metre rope! (NOTE that I free-aid soloed up the bolt ladder until the first non-bolted section to make it work). On many routes, pitches can be linked with a 60-metre rope, but it's nice not to stress too much, so I would go for a 70-metre rope if possible (or even an 80 metre if you feel that you could link more pitches). On my attempt to solo the Eiger direct, I actually used a 100-metre rope, which allowed me to find better belays, as well as reduce the time wasted finding them (on the Eiger, it can take up to an hour to find and create a viable and safe solo belay). A longer rope also gives you spare rope if the ends become damaged.

Another reason for using a longer rope would be to have a single combined lead/haul line (so no knots joining the lead and haul line). This approach can work well on classic routes where pitches are shorter than 50 metres, as a single 100-metre rope would work, and could be lighter overall than two full-length ropes (saying that, I've always signed up to the "where there's rope there's hope" school of rope length).

Colour

It may sound odd to mention rope colour, but a dark rope is harder to monitor from above compared to a white one, which is vital when it comes to avoiding cross-clipping. Plus, a colourful rope is more cheerful.

- Haul Line

The haul line is just as important as the lead line and is used to haul your bags and to rap down at the end of a pitch and fix up the wall (before blasting off or when climbing capsule style).  

Static or dynamic?

A static rope is designed for much heavier abuse than a lead rope; its sheath is constructed to withstand ascenders and pulleys, perfect as a haul line.  The problem is that these ropes are designed for an industrial environment, a space with far more certainty than a big wall. On a wall, your haul line may need to be pressed into service as a lead line if your lead rope becomes damaged, meaning a static rope will not do the job (well, it can, but you must not fall!).

There is also the doomsday scenario that the lead line may be chopped in a fall, meaning the leader falls onto the haul line (this led to the death of a climber on El Cap in 2013). Using a dynamic rope increases redundancy in your system (you have two lead ropes and safety (a fall onto a haul line would not be fatal). Another important factor is that when using the continuous loop method, you can pull up and begin clipping the haul line in an emergency (perhaps on very loose ground).

As for hauling on a dynamic rope, my experience is that once the rope is loaded, it makes very little difference if it's static or dynamic, as most of the stretch is ironed out by the weight of the bags. The main downside is that the sheath of a standard lead rope is not as robust as a static one, so you need to choose your dynamic haul line well (like single ropes designed for professional use that feature a reinforced or thicker sheath). On the Reticent Wall, I carried no set haul line but three lead lines of 9.4 mm, 10 mm and 10.5 mm, and mixed and matched these ropes depending on the type of pitch (the 9.4 mm is very thin, but I used this on the A5 death crux pitch, as its low-impact force/high stretch gave me a higher degree of safety). I ended up splitting my load, so I used one line for leading and the other two for hauling (by doing this, I halved the overall abuse the ropes had to take).

Diameter

On an alpine wall, or when weight will be an issue, a 9 mm static rope works well, and although thin, this style of static rope still feels substantial and safe, even when rapping over roofs high above the talus. The norm for a static haul line would be 10 mm, though, which provides a higher degree of strength, edge resistance and longevity when hauling super loads. For a dynamic haul line, I think that unless it's a very small wall or alpine, a 9 mm rope (or even 8.2 mm or 8.5 mm) is a bit too thin for heavy use, and I would go for a diameter between 9.5 mm and 10 mm.

One thing to note is that a static rope is, in fact, only semi-static and is designed to take a fall without snapping (if it was as stiff as wire, it would snap if loaded dynamically); this has been proved a few times by climbers dropping their haul bags by accident, the bags dropping 60 metres before coming to a jarring halt (three climbers died on the Nose due to their haul bag shock-loading their anchor in 1978, but this was down to a very poor 'death triangle' anchor and weak bolt).

Length

Your haul line should match your lead line in length; most will be 60 metres.  Having a longer haul line of perhaps 70 or 80 metres can eliminate the need for a lower-out line (see below), as you can simply tie the bag in short (so not at the end of the rope, but somewhere along it) to the haul line and leave what is left to lower the bag (I've used an 80-metre haul line on the Nose like this). A longer rope can also help if you decide to fix off a ledge, or can even be used to extend your lead line (once again, "where there's rope, there's hope").

- Cleaning cord

Traditionally, when cleaning a pitch, the second will just lower out with the lead rope using various techniques (holding onto the rope below the lower ascender while releasing the cam,  lowering with a GriGri, rapping from a piece). Still, for soloing, it's worth employing a dedicated lower-out cord for major lower-outs (generally from fixed gear) if you're stuffing the lead line away in a rope bag as you go. A 20-metre length of 6 mm cord (held in a small stuff sack) is used to lower out  (6 mm cord is thin enough to slip through the eyes of pegs while your karabiner is still clipped in).  

How to employ the lower-out cord is covered in the Cleaning section.

- Extra ropes

You may need to carry a lower-out line on routes that feature a great deal of traversing (if you can't tie your bags off short), and a 20-metre length of 6 mm cord tends to work fine. Stow it in a small stuff sack so it doesn't tangle, and when lowering, always use a monster Munter hitch so you have plenty of control over it.

If you're climbing a route 'capsule' style, you will need extra ropes to fix; I find 9 mm static works well. The number of ropes you take depends on the terrain, but I find a 100-metre rope very useful, as this will often stretch over three pitches, or even four, and allow knot-free hauling when moving camps.  

Standard Equipment

- Big HMS lockers

It's a good idea to carry a few very large HMS auto lockers (Petzl, Yates, DMM) for use with haul bags, masterpoints and anywhere you will be clipping in multiple slings, karabiners and ropes. At least one super large HMS (such as the Petzl William or DMM Boa) should be carried, which will be vital for lowering bags in an emergency.

- Mini lockers

On a normal team ascent, you can make do with plain gates most of the time (clipping your cordelette into belays, etc), as there will always be someone there to keep an eye on them, but on solo climbs, this is one 'i' that needs a dot. There are lots of really good tiny screwgates on the market these days, allowing 100% security in a host of situations, working better than larger, heavier HMS karabiners in many situations (GriGri karabiner, for use with  friction hitches, connecting cord to belays). The weight difference is significant when you add all the heavy-duty HMS Karabiners, so this is a good place to cut some of the load.

- 'Guide' belay device

You should never leave the belay without some way of rapping down a rope, and this device should have the extra functionality of acting as an auto-locking brake; this means you'll need some kind of 'guide' style belay device such as the Petzl Reverso. The auto-locking mode can be used when you need a makeshift ascender (used for the feet with a mini ascender/friction hitch used above for the body), for easy hauling or as a backup self-belay device. A GriGri can come in very handy on a wall. Still, a Reverso-style device offers many added benefits, not least the ability to increase friction dramatically and, in turn, reduce heat build-up. Add two (or even three) large HMS-style lockers to the clip-in karabiner (where the rope runs down and around), increasing friction dramatically – ideal when rapping with heavy loads.

It's very easy to drop a belay device, so firstly, always carry a spare in your grab bag, and secondly, have a systematic approach to clipping in and out of the belay device:

Your belay device should be a four-part system comprising a 'guide' style device (Petzl Reverso) with two rope slots and a guide hole (the hole you clip into the belay when using the device in auto-lock mode). The next two parts are matched oval karabiners with round bar sections (Petzl OK). The primary karabiner is the one used to clip to your belay loop (this will always be clipped through the device's retaining loop), while the second is used for auto-lock mode (clipped through a guide hole, while the primary karabiner locks the rope), as well as a double up karabiner for increased friction on raps. The last piece of the system is a single-strand lanyard tied with a 3 mm cord (threading this through a plastic tube will reduce tangles); this is tied from the belay device's guide hole to the primary karabiner.

The key to the system is that it is always racked through the guide hole, never through the retaining loop of the device. The primary karabiner is clipped/racked in the retaining loop and joined to the device by the cord. The best method for not losing the device on connect/removal from the rope is to have it racked on your front-racking loop (you can clip it on your back, but this will increase the chance of a fumble). With the device still racked, insert the rope(s) into the device and clip them in the primary karabiner. You can now remove the device from the rack and clip it onto your belay loop without fear of losing it.

When removing, just reverse the process. Just make sure you don't end up rapping clipped onto your gear loop!

- GriGri

Although a little bit of a luxury (and not something I would carry on lead), a GriGri can add much to your ability to stay safe and sorted on the wall. Here are a few reasons why it's worth having one:

If you lose your primary device, It's a backup self-belay device.

It makes fixing down pitches on retreats a little easier.

It works well for hauling.

It can be used as a backup ascender (along with one jumar).

It's good for creating a quick and easy method of rope positioning when on ledges or bivvys (you tie at the end of the rope, then clip in the GriGri and shorten your connection depending on how much slack you want).

Most useful is that the GriGri can be used as a 'movable knot' when rope climbing/cleaning.

The GriGri is best left at the belay when leading and picked up and used once you return (if you don't mind the weight, you can simply carry it along with your guide belay device).

One modification (beyond those discussed above) is to attach a 3 mm loop of Dyneema (you can thread it through plastic tubing to stiffen it up) through the clip-in loop (you may need to cut away a small piece of plastic); this will allow you to take the GriGri on and off one-handed (if injured) by allowing you to clip off the loop.  When making a lanyard like this, make sure that there is no way the loop could interfere with the normal action of the GriGri.

- Hitch cords

Always carry three 5 mm cords for making friction hitches (different colours) for self-rescue, rap anchors and for overcoming problems with other systems (untied, a hitch cord can form a mini releasable docking cord). Get a cord that is 1.2 metres long (good for rap backup), 1.5 metres long (body friction hitch loop) and 2.5 metres long (foot cord and self-rescue cord). Tie the two shorter cords with double fisherman's knots and the long cord with just a reef knot backup with double fisherman's knots (this will allow you to untie it easily if you need a single cord length).

- Ascenders

When soloing, you should always have some effective rope climbing tools on you at all times, either your handled ascenders or some micro ascenders (Petzl Tibloc, Kong Duck, Wild Country Ropeman), as these will be required if you're to deal with problems on lead.

- Knife

I'm not a big fan of carrying a knife on my harness, but when you're soloing, you need to be totally self-sufficient, and you never know when one may come in handy. The small Petzl folding knives are very valuable and work well, but, like your nut tool, I'd add a short loop to reduce the chance of dropping it (this is also easier to clip into if you have an odd-shaped racking karabiner).  

- Mini ascenders

Although they will add some extra weight, I would advise always having small mechanical ascenders on your harness if you lose an ascender or forget to rappel with them when cleaning. A Petzl Tibloc is slightly heavier than a friction hitch cord but requires less effort. If you choose to use Tiblocs, then make sure you practise with them beforehand and note that they need to be used with a round bar oval or HMS karabiner to function properly (D-shaped karabiners will cause the Tiblocs to slip and damage the sheath, and your underpants). If you carry a GriGri (even if it's left at the belay), then you can just take one Tibloc (although, saying that, two aren't much heavier than one).

- Petzl Micro Traxion

It may seem off having this pulley on your harness when you're already using a full-size pulley, but a Micro Traxion only weighs a little more than Tibloc and greatly increases your toolbox to deal with problems on the wall. It can be used as a highly effective ascender (the Traxion goes on the waist and foot loop, and the Tibloc goes above as a foot loop attached to a long friction hitch). Having a second pulley also allows you a backup close to hand, as well as the ability to 'up' your pulley system to a 2:1 or 3:1 at a moment's notice (carrying DMM Revolver karabiners on long slings and shock absorbers gives you extra pulleys to use with your Micro and Pro Traxion).

- Head-lamp

Although this isn't a technical kit, find yourself alone in the dark without one, and you'll understand its value! Always make sure you have a torch available when darkness is around the corner, as it's very easy to miscalculate the approach of darkness and end up far from the belay in the dark. On major routes, I leave a small Petzl Tikka attached to my helmet at all times, tying it into one of the vents with a 2 mm cord as a backup; I carry a secondary, more powerful, torch for when I don't have my helmet on, or for more difficult night-time climbing.

- Shock absorbers

Roped soloing can slightly increase the shock loads applied to protection when climbing in some situations, so having several shock-absorbing slings is a good move (Yates and Petzl make good ones). These are long slings sewn together in a 'folded sandwich', which will sequentially pull apart under load, resulting in the force applied being spread over a longer period.  The protection must take the load applied, but if this load can be shared over a longer time, the peak force will be lower. You can further improve this by adding DMM Revolver karabiner to your shockers, as these reduce the friction on the piece, transferring it to the rope itself.  Remember that the rope is the best way to absorb any force and that the rope should ideally run directly from the belay to the piece being loaded (the rope from this piece to the falling climber is invariably straight), as this will allow the greatest stretch time (more time = lower weight/force on the protection). Just imagine pulling a 50-metre elastic band in a field and then doing the same in a wood with the band zigzagging between trees.

- Gloves

If you trash your hands early on when climbing a wall, there is a good chance you'll not get to the top, so looking after them is vital. No matter how tough they might appear to be, heavy hauling will see them blistered (blisters then burst and get infected), and leading will see your nails and cuticles ragged and painful. You must keep your gloves on for most of the climb, only removing them for harder free climbing (though it's worth noting that leather gloves work well for hand jams).

Fingerless leather gloves are the most common hand wear for the wall (make sure they have a clip-off loop), as they allow dexterity and adequate free-climbing flexibility (you can crimp and finger jam in them).

I use full-finger leather gloves these days (Petzl work gloves), as I find that on a long solo, where you are climbing up and down three times, my fingertips always get trashed. By wearing full-finger gloves, my fingertips and nails stay pain-free, and I have fewer problems with infections. The downside is that my hands tend to get hotter, and worst of all, I end up with terrible tan lines.

- Rope bags

These can either be dedicated rope bags (Fish make the best ones) or any large stuff sack (see Leading section for more info).

- Survival gear

A soloist must be self-sufficient and able to handle every situation. This includes dealing with storms, meaning you should have enough warm kit to survive any winter storm, a bomb-proof fly/bivvy bag, and a warm sleeping bag (having a thin and medium bag means you can tailor it to the temperature). The minimum kit would be a shell top and bottom, a fleece, a synthetic belay jacket, a hat, a balaclava and warm gloves. If there's the chance of a winter storm, add mitts, fleece pants and thermal underwear.  Make sure everything is stowed in dry bags, and always have a shell and fleece in your tag bag when bad weather is looming.

Pre Solo

Where to solo?

Before soloing a wall, you must determine what route to take. I highly recommend your first solo to be in Yosemite Valley, as here you have easy access, a mass of beta and solo-bolted belays on many routes; plus, the rock is perfect. By tackling several walls on the Leaning Tower, Washington Column and El Cap, you can build the skills necessary to take your solos to more remote walls. If Yosemite is out of the question, then Norway, the Alps and the Pyrenees or Picos may offer other good routes, but nowhere is as easy as Yosemite (and things will be hard enough anyway).

What kind of route?

The answer to this is simple: STEEP! The steeper the route, the easier and safer it will be, as haul bags will hang in space, and any falls will be clean. Routes with bolted belays are also vital, as this reduces much of the weight. You don't need extra protection, and it can allow easier fixing and retreat. For your first wall, shorter and more technical routes are ideal, with a few ledges preferable, as a ledge allows you to rearrange your gear and take some of the strain out of the unrelenting steepness (they are also simply cool).

Traffic on the route is also a factor, as you want to feel relaxed, and having teams climbing over each other for days on end can be painful. For this reason, leave a wall like the Nose until you have your technique and fitness dialled and instead look at routes like Zodiac, Tangerine Trip and the Muir or Triple Direct. Routes with some traffic can be nice, as you get visitors now and again and may be able to beg for extra food or water. The famous Chongo Chuck used to 'hitch-hike' up walls by allowing passing teams to fix a rope or two for him and live off their excess food and water. Chongo was famous for saying that aid climbing was great because you could still be 'bitchin', even while sitting down.

Route planning

When looking at routes, try to build a picture of the approach, the overall aspect, difficulty and cruxes of the route, and the descent. Remember that you will be alone, so it may take two days to get all your kit to the wall and two days to get it back down. Pitch-wise, you should know your speed; if you don't, factor in 1.5 pitches daily, giving you a broad margin for error. Get online and look at trip reports (try www.supertopo.com) and Google Images to create a picture of the route. Get the topo, scan or grab a screenshot and stick it on your phone and computer so you can look at it regularly and build up an idea of the climb.

Plan B

No matter how thoroughly you plan and strategise, things sometimes turn out differently than expected. Bird bans, rock falls, and teams of crazy Koreans encamped on your route can easily throw a spanner into the works. Have a plan B, even if it's just a topo. For a plan B, you may also need a different rack, so don't take a specific route rack (say you leave your Camelot 5's at home), so take everything you may need.

New kit

If you need to get a new kit, buy and use it beforehand so you're not turning up with brand-new gear. However, one item I would always start with as new is a lead rope, and make sure all old kit is up to scratch (cam wires, micro nuts and slings). Being five days in on a wall and having a cam trigger fail or rope sheath come apart is not suitable for your psyche.

You're not going until you have bought your ticket

So you've done all your planning, bought your kit, told your mates – but you've yet to buy a ticket – well then, you're not going! Buy your ticket as soon as possible so you know you are going; you won't be able to wimp out of it or find an excuse.

When buying a plane ticket, pay close attention to the baggage allowance, as what you save on the flight may end up paying for excess baggage. Another factor is the actual prices for excess. Per kilo prices can be a killer, so the cost per bag is always better (I was once asked to pay £700 excess when flying back from South Africa with Emirates). Paying upfront online is also worth it, and you'd be hard-pressed to fly on a plane to solo a wall with less than 50 kg of gear (just a portaledge and fly and rope can put you over your allowance). One option to keep the price down is to take a bike box, snowboard bag or golf bag and take this on as sports equipment as an extra free item (a portaledge fits well in a ski bag).

Going alone or in a group?

Going on a long trip alone can be a great experience; being independent and able to do what you want and when you want is great. Another factor is that going in a group of mates may make it harder to commit to your project, as they may distract you with other plans or even persuade you not to try it. If you're already full of doubts, seeing these same doubts in your mates' faces can break your trip. On the plus side, having your mates there eliminates the loneliness and isolation you can often feel when away from home, which can be a factor in making your bail. Having people around you to support you and look after you when you get down, muck in and carry kit to the bottom and from the top, and keep an eye out for you cannot be understated. Another positive factor of going in a group is the ability to share the cost of transport, food and accommodation, which can add up when you're alone.

Personally, most of my solo trips have been just that, from start to finish. Although hanging out with people I know is great, breaking away and getting on with the job often takes work. People are great but bring a lot of complexity and personal politics to any situation, and the bigger the group, the more of a headache it can be. So, the answer to this question will be very personal but worth considering.

So you've got your ticket, so now it's time to get there.

Home to Base

Before getting to a big wall, you must transport yourself and all your gear from home to a base camp. Unless you can drive, you will encounter many trials by which impossibility will generally be in reverse proportion to the size of your wallet. Also remember that you are travelling as heavy as anyone can, which will affect all your timings, so get everywhere early (you can throw money at many things, but not time).

On Foot

A soloist will probably have more than one haul bag's worth of kit to deal with, plus you tend to travel alone, meaning there will be times that you must transport this kit by foot. Travelling with mates will help reduce the stress involved, but there will always be some major lifting and shifting involved. First, don't think like a caveman and try to drag and carry your bags around, as you'll just get injured before you even get there (your bags could weigh 30 kg or more each – 100 kg total baggage is common for a hard wall). You must take advantage of this clever device called 'the wheel'. One large haul bag and a super-heavy-duty wheeled handle that can be pulled work well. You can stick all the heavy kit on the wheels (rack, portaledge, ropes) and all the softer, lighter stuff in your haul bag (a ton of light stuff still weighs a ton, though). Alternatives include bringing a heavy-duty mini-folding trolley (most will not be up to the job) or using a folding kayak trolley (many are on the market). However, it would help to pack the bag so it's rigid enough to pull along.

Try getting a trolley if you use public transport and can manage it. Most train stations have them, and all airports, but if you're planning on crossing London on the underground, then you're on your own and are going to undertake an assault course that could bring a hardened SAS veteran to tears (I know – I've done it!).

If you get a trolley, then always put the bags on long ways, not sideways, as this will allow you to navigate lifts, bollards and people much more easily (most of which tend to be a few inches narrower than the bags you have). I also always carry one long kayak roof strap and use this to lock the bags to the trolley so they don't topple off.

If you have to lift a bag, then always try and get some help, and lift from the bottom strap and the top strap.

Trains

As previously mentioned, a trolley makes life much easier when navigating train stations, so make sure you have some chance to get one if they are chained together. Haul bags are big items, so aim to avoid rush hour and try placing them in the bike/wheelchair section (but be prepared to move them). If you need to leave them on a platform to find a trolley, then tell someone, as they can look very much like huge fertiliser bombs!

Planes

The days when you could take two huge haul bags on a transatlantic flight are long gone. Now, most people will get a single bag allowance of around 23 kg, meaning you will need to pay extra for more bags (do this before you fly, as it will be cheaper than just rocking up at the airport and making arrangements). I take this cost now as just part of the price of my flight and invariably end up paying for two extra bags plus overweight charges (most times, my bags weigh 30 kg each). One way to reduce costs is to pay for a ski bag as part of your luggage or a snowboard bag and stuff one of these with the kit (make sure it has wheels!).

When packing your haul bag, secure it as well as you can and consider stowing the shoulder straps as if you were going to haul, but remove the waist belt (these often get pulled off and lost). Avoid using karabiners to secure the bag, as these frequently disappear, but instead, secure it in a way that will allow customs to open and check it (at least one of my haul bags always gets checked while going through the baggage system in the US).

Mark your bag with an address, email and telephone number, and try and store all small items, clothes and your rack in smaller bags inside (these can also have your name on them) so that if the bag opens, your kit is kept together (you need lots of stuff-sacks anyway).

Auto-mobiles

If you can drive your bags to the wall or the airport, this will greatly reduce the hassle. If ordering a taxi, ask for an estate car and tell them you have some large items, as waiting for a bigger taxi could make you miss your plane or train. If driving a long way, secure your haul bags inside the car (I use a kayak roof strap), as a crash could send a hundred kilos of haul bags into the front seats. It seems wild to mention it, but consider (when overloading your car) that your stopping distance will also be affected.

02:The Wall

03 BASE TO THE WALL

So you've made it to your destination, and now all you have to do is get all your kit and water to the base?

Man hauling

No matter how good your haul bag is, it will always carry like shit; by far, the best technique used for man-hauling is the ability to absorb pain without complaint. Packing the bag well (heavy items close to the back and hips) will help in some respects, but it will always be a total grind (try and pick walls that are close to the road!).

A better option is to use a super-large pack to haul the kit to the bottom, something in the range of 80–100 litres, as this will be designed for heavy-duty carrying, and although still hard work, should be less painful.

Try and plan load carrying for the coolest times of the day, and for mammoth load carrying, split it up into several carries. Also, don't ignore opportunities to get help from others, even if it's just a couple of litres of water or your ledge. In places like Yosemite, you can pay a local sherpa or 'monkey' to carry loads to and from a wall (prices vary, but I've heard $200 is normal). I see this as cheating (although I won't when my knees are shot).

In areas with wildlife like bears, rats, mice or cats, try and avoid leaving your loads on the ground in bags and always make your final carry the one with the food. If you leave a bag sitting below El Cap, for example, even if it's empty, you'll probably find a bear will rip it open to look inside.

Most walls will be safe from thieves, but not all, and be especially aware of tourists, who will see your gear and assume it's been abandoned. I tend to carry in all the rope and hardware and perhaps the portaledge on day one, fix one or two pitches, leave my rack high up at the top of my ropes, then come in on the second day with everything else (or make two carries if I have a lot of water).

One note about your rack: take a moment before embarking on any wall to check each piece of your rack for damage, lubing your cams and paying close attention to your trigger wires (carry spare cord and wire for makeshift repairs). Having a trigger wire fail can create a big problem if you have limited cams.

Concepts

So now we get to the ‘meat’ of this book, how to get yourself from the bottom of a pitch to the top, from the first to the last.

The basic idea

Before we get into the nitty-gritty of rope soloing, let’s look at how rope soloing works:

The climber arrives at the bottom of the climb and creates an anchor for up and down forces.

They attach the rope to themselves and close to the anchor using either a knot (Figure 8 or Clove hitch) or a mechanical auto-locking belay device (Silent Partner or Soloist) and begin to climb, placing gear and clipping in as they go.

If they fall, they will be caught by either their knot or mechanical device. If they use a knot, they must adjust it to give themselves some slack.

On reaching the top, they create an anchor strong enough for upward and downward force.

They can now rap back down the rope, taking out their gear, or if the route is a traverse, rap down a second free hanging rope (or haul line) attached to the belay.

On reaching the ground, they strip the belay and climb back up the rope (via ascenders or re-climbing) and begin again.

Using this system, the climber is safeguarded in case of a fall, with the drawback being that they must climb the pitch twice and rap back down, so in effect, moving over the same ground three times.  On a single pitch route, this is fine, but on a very long route, this requires a great deal of organisation, stamina and the ability to be self-aware (there is no one to check you but you).

OK, so that’s the basics. But before we get into the finer details, let’s focus on some of the crucial concepts and components of the ‘systems’.

THE FUNDAMENTALS

Before I continue onto the nuts and bolts and nitty-gritty of big wall soloing, I will cover several fundamental ideas you must understand to make your systems work.  These are often small details, easily overlooked when learning how to rope solo, but they also tend to make or break a system or even kill you if you ignore them completely!

The backup knot

The backup knot in any soloing system is your last line of defence, and although it may never be called on to hold a fall if that day comes and you've skipped it, then you will probably slip off the rope and die.

The backup knot creates a solid, non-moving connection to your lead rope and acts as your last line of defence if your primary belay device fails.  If you're soloing on knots, this chance is low, but even using a clove-hitch system, karabiners can become cross-loaded and break, or gates can come undone. Even with an auto-feeding device like a GriGri, your backup may be loaded, as all these devices are open to failure.

- Smooth sailing

A secondary reason for the backup knot, and perhaps the most important for the smooth running of your systems, is that the loop the backup knot creates (between the knot and the device) allows your rope to feed smoothly through your auto-belay device. Imagine you begin at the belay with your rope stacked in its bag, fed through the device, but with no backup knot. As you climb, the rope (attached to the belay at one end, called the 'live' rope) will move through your device smoothly, but as you get higher, your movement pulls the rope through the device. Eventually, the weight of the live rope will be significant enough for the live side of the rope to pull the dead side through, hence the use of rope holders (see diagram). As you get higher, the weight of the dead rope and the drag on the live rope will begin to tip the balance in favour of the dead rope. When it does this, the rope will start to 'snatch' on the device, a common problem when learning to solo. Now, if you pull up several metres of slack in the dead rope and tie it in with a backup knot, the weight of most of the dead rope is apportioned to you, not the device and the rope will run smoothly again.

The size of this loop depends on the weight and diameter of the rope, how it interacts with the design of the device and the amount of protection clipped. When aiding, I will give myself a loop of around 10 metres, so I can move without worrying; if I'm free climbing, I'll try to make it a little longer.

- The knot

The backup knot can be any of your choosing if it's solid. A Figure 8 works fine for general use, clipped into a small locker on your belay loop. You can use a Clove hitch for speed, as this can be released one-handed. When you're getting close to the end of your backup, you should notice the loop getting short, so you should try to create a new loop, tie a knot, and clip in the new one before unclipping the old one. Invariably, you always have the backup come tight when you least want it, such as mantling onto a ledge!  For this reason, always check and extend it before any free climbing.

Dead rope/live rope

This is a vital concept for rope soloing systems as it allows you to understand what can be clipped and how to overcome potential errors in your system. To do this, we divide the rope between the live rope and the dead rope. The basic principle is:

The live rope is between the anchor and your belay device. As you climb, the length of the live rope increases.

The dead rope lives in its rope bag at the belay and is attached to nothing but you (via your device and backup knot). Once the dead rope passes through your belay device, it becomes a live rope. Dead rope allows you to ascend, and once you have run out of it (where it has become live rope), you can go no further.

Try and visualise this idea of the live and dead rope when setting up your systems and leading, as it can help avoid mistakes.

Bagging

To get your system to work, you must bag your lead and haul lines. A rope bag is simply a way of storing a rope so that it will pay out remotely without snags and tangles; this is vital when you have no belayer to sort out such problems. Bags are set at belays with the rope carefully fed so that they will feed out perfectly. They vary from custom-made Cordura bags for soloing walls to a simple Ikea carrier bag.

Your rope bags will be both your best and worst friend on the wall, creating lots of seemingly endless work (stuffing rope bags can make you feel like Sisyphus!), but like your rope, you need to give them great respect and care (otherwise they won't care for you).

You essentially need a bag that is big enough to hold one full-size rope with a little space left over; it shouldn't be too narrow or too wide and should have at least one clip loop to attach it to the belay (or better still, two attachments, so the bag can be held open when stuffing). On most walls, you will need two rope bags (one for the lead line and one for the haul line), but three will be needed if doing a double haul. On alpine or speed ascents, you can keep things simpler by using your rucksack as a rope bag (this only works when using one rope) or even a hole dug in the snow, but I would always take rope bags for anything big.

Rope bags serve a secondary purpose on bivvy, where they make perfect stuff sacks to hold the kit when emptying haul bags (ropes will need to be coiled when not stuffed into bags).

Rope bag tech

When stowing a rope in a bag, you must give it the same care and attention as packing a parachute. As with a parachute, you want the correct outcome when you pull!  Sloppy rope stuffing will see you come to a halt halfway up a pitch and will lead to a great deal of wasted time and frustration, so get it right!

To stow a rope correctly, you must avoid grabbing handfuls of rope and stuffing it in as if you were stuffing a turkey. No! You must slowly feed in the rope as if icing a cake, one strand feeding over another and another. Smoothly and carefully in = smoothly and perfectly out. The best techniques involve 'pulling' the rope down into the bag rather than trying to feed it in while holding the rope's weight. To do this, you must first run the rope through a karabiner set above the bag (using this as a pulley), pulling the rope down with both hands and feeding it into the bag. An improved method is to use a small locking pulley like a Micro Traction, as this will also hold the weight of the rope as it is fed in.

Again, whenever you stick your rope into a rope bag, imagine you are packing a parachute.

The Belay

The big wall solo belay can range from the super simple, just two solid 10 mm bolts to the highly complex, a mix of cams, pegs and nuts working in multiple directions and all equalised to a single point. Whatever type of belay you are forced to build must provide total security, as the forces that might be applied can be much higher than with a partner. All big wall belays must be able to withstand standard loads as well as the enormous loads created by hauling (over twice the total weight of your bags), as well as a potential direct fall onto the belay (factor 2).

Having climbed some walls already means you will understand normal big wall belays, but it's worth going back to basics and trying to conform to the S.E.R.E.N.E standard:

S (Strong): The belay must be solid and provide 100% security even if some of its parts are marginal (it is the 'masterpoint' that must be strong, not necessarily the 20 pieces it is drawn from!).

E (Equalised): To achieve this strong belay, you must equalise everything;

R (Redundant): The belay must remain solid if one or several pieces fail.

E (Efficient): Speed is important, especially on speed ascents, but comes last in the order of importance.

NE (No Extension): If one piece should fail, you do not want the whole belay to be shock-loaded.

Belay masterpoint

Everything is equalised down to the masterpoint, which is best created using the strongest forged HMS you can find (the biggest HMS karabiners are vital when lowering bags using a monster Munter). Nothing should be clipped directly into this apart from other karabiners so that the masterpoint never needs to be opened when loaded. Instead, you clip in your lead rope, haul line, hauler, etc.

I've experienced a whole gamut of belays, from A6 belays made from bird beaks and micro nuts on poor limestone, expanding belays (where cams shifted once the weight came onto them, with some popping or inverting as the crack opened up), to bolt belays so solid you could hang the QE2 off them!

Belay types

I've decided to break down the belays into bolted and unbolted, as how you approach each is very different (as well as how happy you are climbing above them!).

- Bolted belays

When I talk about bolted belays, I'm talking about belays that have bolts beyond question, generally 10 mm stainless steel bolts with hangers that can take well over 30 kN.  There are belays out there with old skinny bolts and crappy Leeper hangers or self-drives with alloy hangers that have corroded to the point where they have the strength of a cream cracker, but for these, we would treat them as part of the secondary category.  On El Cap, by and large, every bolt you come across will be new, and there will often be several to choose from.

Traditional belay: This would be the 'go to' belay for anyone wanting to do it the standard way, conforming to S.E.R.E.N.E and ticking all the safety boxes. To do this, you clip either plain gate or mini lockers to the bolts (two bolts are fine, but three may make your mum happier); I tend to go with a mix, always having one micro locker.

Here, you equalise everything to a single point, the masterpoint, using either:

Two 60 cm slings clipped off to one bolt each (no need to equalise, plus no knots to untie).

One long 120 cm sling clipped to two bolts, with a sliding X (you can leave this set up as a pre-build belay rig).

Cordelette. You can use this to equalise two or three bolts. It can also come in handy if you have a mix of bolts and trad gear, but generally, on bolted belays, it's slower than the above.

'Fancy-pants' slings. You can buy numerous fancy equalising slings designed by people who climbed in their heads more than on the crag and bought by people who are unjustifiably paranoid. Keep it simple, as the above systems are much more flexible and have multiple uses (for example, a cordelette can come in handy when setting up releasable attachment points).

Spartan belay: If we accept that any single bolt in our belay could technically be strong enough to form our belay (most bolts will hold more than 2,500 kg), then we don't need to equalise the belay but only connect the bolts somehow for redundancy; this way we save a great deal of time and equipment, and have a higher belay point, crucial for hauling (of course we break the S.E.R.E.N.E Redundancy rule; however, these rules were intended for trad belays, so we have slowly re-tuned the S.E.R.E.N.E rules when it comes to well-bolted routes). For this set-up, all you require is two micro lockers and a large HMS auto locker (ideally auto lockers, but a screwgate is okay), and your rope; that's it, no cordelette or slings are needed. You can carry these three karabiners neatly on the back of your harness (clip both small lockers into the big one).

Here is how it would work with a standard rope soloing set-up:

You arrive at the bolted belay and clip in with both daisy chains (one on each bolt).

You clip one small locker onto each bolt, clipping the large HMS auto locker into the small locker in the best position for hauling (if they are both the same, then clip to the right bolt if right-handed and vice versa).

Take the end of the lead line, tie a Figure 8 and clip this into the single small locker, then tie an Alpine Butterfly and clip this into the locker paired with the HMS (a butterfly knot is used as you will be jugging up on this rope, and so will be easier to untie).

The HMS is your master point, and into this will be clipped your haulier; the high positioning of the haulier directly to the bolt rather than at the bottom of a cordelette tends to aid hauling.

Once set up, you will take the end of the haul line and take the haul line locker (the locker attaching the haul line to your rear haul loop) and clip it into the empty locker, then tie an Alpine Butterfly and clip this into the masterpoint. You could just clip the haul line into the master point, but this way, you achieve some redundancy when rapping down the haul line.

After you've rapped the haul line and cleaned the pitch, you will haul the bag up, hanging it from the masterpoint via its docking cord.

The main thing to remember is that the end of the lead line (the end furthest from the belay) is going to be used to form the new belay when you arrive, an effect best visualised as leapfrogging the rope up the wall (the end you untie below on the last belay will be tied again into the next belay above).  

You must untie the ends if you're running a continuous loop system.

- Non-bolted belays

On a non-bolted belay, you need to think about S.E.R.E.N.E in a different way; in fact, you just need to add W.U.D at the end (however, S.E.R.E.N.E.W.U.D doesn't roll off the tongue); these letters standing for 'Works Upside-Down'. We're told on a normal trad belay that we must have pieces that work with an upward pull. Still, we tend not to bother, believing that the weight of a belayer is enough to stop the belay from being yanked up and out (I've heard of belays ripping when the leader has fallen directly onto the belay (factor 2), but never in a standard fall onto a runner above. On a solo wall, the chances of an upward pull versus a downward pull are reversed, as any fall will hopefully be upward. At the same time, the belay must withstand the huge forces of big wall climbing, which all adds up, thus having to have really bomber belays.

One thing to remember is that cams and pegs tend to work in any direction, so if you have a couple of good cams and a peg, then you're sorted in any direction, and the traditional three-piece belay should be okay. If you can't place cams and have to rely on nuts, these tend to only work in one direction of pull, meaning you will need to place upward-pulling nuts as well.

The poorer the rock and the more sparse the placements, the further out you will need to hunt for good gear, maybe even climbing a little way up the next pitch. On such routes, I would take four cordelettes, perhaps using two-on-one belays (practise using a cordelette both as a round sling and untied to form a snake sling), and use the standard equalised belay, employing every technique I could to reduce the force on the belay. You may even be forced to employ the rope as well.

On such routes, you may find that your rack gets gobbled up, so take a third more gear to deal with this problem; on the most challenging routes, taking a longer rope (70, 80 or 100 metres) can allow you to limit the number of poor belays you need to deal with.

The bottom line is never to accept a poor belay when soloing, even if it means retreating.

Dynamic haul bag belay

On hard aid, you must achieve as dynamic a belay as possible, as the greater the amount of time allowed to absorb any force, the lower the peak force. Your lead rope has the greatest capacity to absorb this force (the thinner it is, the longer it stretches; therefore, the more time to absorb the force), but with some forethought when setting a belay, you can use the belay itself to decrease the peak force dramatically.  Your haul bag is the one object that can move (and is also the one heavy enough to counter your body weight). Integrating your bag into the belay matrix can dramatically reduce the peak forces involved in a fall.  

The trick is to hang the haul bag lower than normal so that the bag can be lifted a longer distance, basically like a counterweight.  Again, remember that the peak force is calculated as force divided by time, so a heavy bag being lifted will absorb a great deal of force. When hauling, normally, you would haul the bag up until it is close to the masterpoint, but on a solo where low forces are vital, you would tie it off via its docking cord, perhaps a metre or more lower. If you want to gain access to the bag when you arrive, you can always haul it, then drop it down again to lead (always have the haul line clipped in as a backup to the bag's docking cord).

Once the bag is a metre below the belay, you would run the lead line from the belay (the belay is still the primary attachment point) down to the bags and clip in with an Alpine Butterfly to the hanging point (probably the swivel) with a locking karabiner.

It is for this reason, I would recommend a dynamic 8 mm to 9 mm docking cord of at least 6.5 metres (the docking cord is doubled, so this will give you about 3 metres of play).

You can further increase the shock absorbance of the belay by using the following extra components.

- Shock-absorbing sling

This is a simple one, with the lead line being clipped into a ripper sling clipped off to the bag. In a fall directly onto the belay or a hard fall onto protection, the ripper sling would engage and reduce the peak force on either the top runner or the belay itself. In a lead fall not onto the belay, you tend not to create enough force to cause the sling's stitching to rip. This sling would be attached to the haul bags with a locker, and the rope would be attached to the other end with a locker.

- Kong KISA Shock Absorber

This small alloy plate full of holes looks a little like a belay device. The rope is threaded through the holes to create friction (you can adjust the friction by how many holes you thread). As with the ripper sling, this would be attached to the haul bag, with the lead rope either passing through it (slow to set up) or attached by a secondary rope.  

Belay seat

On a steep wall, being unable to take the weight of your feet or harness can be very draining, especially if the route is long. A belay seat, either a soft one made from fabric (Yates or Fish), a solid seat (Petzl or Black Diamond), or even a hammock, can help reduce the mental and physical strain of being on the wall.

Racking daisy

Stringing a daisy chain between two pieces of gear is a great way to sort it out, clipping it in and out of the pockets. The best thing about this system is that it eliminates the possibility of one end becoming unclipped and all the gear sliding into the void! I will often stow my main gear on a daisy chain in my tag back, with less useful gear placed in the bottom in a stuff sack (pegs, spare hooks, heads, bolt kit).

Lead Systems

Iwill set out all the systems used for rope soloing, beginning with the basic systems and working up to the more complex ones. I recommend that everyone start with the basics, practice them until they are understood, and then move on to the next technique.

Clove hitch

I will begin by describing a pure rope solo system with no hauling or fancy tricks, as this is the system you will use when training. Once mastered, you can add hauling, cleaning and advanced variations as your skills increase.

Scenario: Before you is a short crag, only 20 metres high, the route you want to climb is well within your grade. There is a two-bolt belay anchor at ground level and bolts at the top, with a bolt every metre up the climb. You will rope solo this short route to test the systems, not yourself (that will come later).

Nuts and bolts: In terms of equipment, you have a bunch of quickdraws, several locking karabiners, a 10 mm rope and a large stuff sack to use as a rope bag.

- Step By Step

You tie a Figure 8 into the very end of the rope and clip this into the first belay bolt, then an Alpine Butterfly a little way higher, and clip this into the second bolt (both with locking karabiners), creating an equalised belay. By removing slings from the system, you are reducing the number of links in your safety chain and making it marginally more dynamic (Dyneema slings are static); this will be the start of your live rope (try and imagine it 'plugged' into the mountain).

You now take the other end of your rope, the dead end (not plugged into anything), and begin to feed it onto the rope bag until all the rope is fed in.

Clip a locking karabiner to your belay loop, take some rope, and clip it into the karabiner with a Clove hitch; this will be your primary self-belay point, with the knot being loosened and re-tied as you climb (as it's a Clove hitch, you will never need to untie it, just loosen and reset).

You are now stood with the dead rope on one side feeding out of the rope bag and up to your Clove hitch and the live rope leading from the Clove hitch to the belay.

Now tie a backup knot by taking several metres of dead rope and tying a Figure 8. Clip this in with a small locker to your belay loop.

Giving yourself three metres of slack on your live rope by paying rope through your Clove hitch, you can now climb up three metres, clipping the live rope into the protection as you go.

After three metres, the live rope begins to get tight, and the Clove hitch begins to cinch down on the karabiner. You stand in balance, and with one hand, you pay out three more metres of rope (being careful not to place your finger inside the knot, but pinching it instead, in case you fall and the knot traps your fingers).

Having slack on your live rope, you move up three more metres.

At this point, your backup knot begins to get tight, so you stand in balance, pull up several metres of dead rope, tie a Figure 8, clip this into the small backup locker, and switch out the original knot and untie it.

You climb on, moving the live rope through the Clove hitch every three metres, the backup knot every ten metres.

Without warning, you suddenly slip off and fall one metre onto the bolt below. The Clove hitch cinches down tight as the weight comes onto the live rope, and you stop dead. Checking yourself, you climb back up and continue (after a little battle undoing the Clove hitch).

You reach the top of the route!

- Auto belay variation

You return to the bottom, pull your rope, and stack the lead rope into its rope bag.

Instead of tying in with a Clove hitch, this time, you attach a Rock Exotica Silent partner using two lockers.  

Now you tie a backup as you did in the basic system.

This time, as you climb, there is no need to keep fiddling with knots, as the device just feeds the rope out. You no longer feel quite aware that you are rope soloing and feel you could climb at the limit of your grade.

After several metres, your backup knot goes tight, and you re-tie it as before, doing this a few times until you reach the top.

You notice that climbing is much easier, as you don't need to nurse the knot all the time.

When you reach the top, you decide to rap down the rope to get the gear out, which you do with ease as the rope is running straight down. You tie off the rope to the top anchor and rap down.

Once at the bottom, you untie the bottom belay and ascender back up the lead rope, pulling the rope up once you're at the top.

So far so easy.

Basic rope solo and haul system

This time, we're going to add a bit more complexity to the system to allow you to climb multi-pitch routes and haul.

- Scenario

This time, you have chosen to climb a five-pitch route, again with bolt belays every forty metres and bolts every metre. You will also be hauling a small haul bag with tea and sandwiches.

- Nuts and bolts

You have the same rack and rope setup as before, but now you have a 9 mm static rope and a second rope bag. You also have two long slings to create belays (each with two small lockers and a large high-strength HMS karabiner to create a masterpoint) and a Petzl Micro Traxion.

- Step by step

As before, you set up a belay with your lead line, tying it to the bolts with two karabiners; you stuff the rope into the rope bag and attach your Silent Partner and backup knot.  

You now clip the haul line to the belay with a locking karabiner and begin feeding the rope into the rope bag (belay end first). A good way to speed this up is to run the rope through a mini locking pulley such as a Petzl Micro Traxion. When the rope is stacked away, you will have one end free on the top. Tie a Figure 8 and clip this to the back of your harness.

You begin climbing as before, and as you do, the dead end of the lead rope feeds out of the rope bag, and the haul line feeds out of the other rope bag. You stop every so often to re-tie your backup knot, but now you have a little more understanding about the length needed for the rope to run smoothly; you make the loops a little bigger and climb faster.

You reach the next belay station and set it up with your slings and karabiners (creating a masterpoint) and pull up the dead end of the lead line first, clipping this to the masterpoint. You have a 60-metre rope, but the pitch is only 40 metres high, meaning you now have 20 metres of dead rope between your Silent Partner and the belay. You know you want to climb back up this rope and so need it tight to the belay; you could, perhaps, pull this slack through once you get to the bottom belay, but this runs the risk of the rope hanging up (you could fall if you don't have that 20 metres pulled through). Instead, you simply tie an alpine butterfly knot in the lead rope a metre from your device and clip this into the belay via a second locking karabiner (your 'tie-off' knot); this means you have very little slack in the system, and you can climb up easily (note: you should not pull the live rope tight, as this might make cleaning the bottom belay much harder).

Remember: when moving up a wall via multiple belays, the dead end becomes the live end at each pitch (and vice versa).

The lead rope sorted, you now unclip your haul line from the back of your harness (don't drop it!) and clip the end directly into a bolt. Doing this lets you easily locate it and clip it to your harness once the rope is stacked and stored before the next pitch. It gives some redundancy. You now pull up approximately two metres of haul line (this will be used to do your initial hauling) and clip the haul line into the Petzl Micro Traxion (you can back this up by tying a Figure 8 or alpine butterfly and clipping that just after the hauler), clip this into the masterpoint  (note: you do not need to pull all the haul line tight to the belay, as you will shorten the haul line at the far end).

You attach your belay device to the haul line (making sure you have your ascenders so you can re-climb the pitch) and then unclip from the Silent Partner.

You rap the haul line and reach the belay below (have a daisy chain and aider ready to clip in).

You secure yourself with both aiders (never trust a single point) and unclip from the haul line.

You now pull the haul line tight, tie an alpine butterfly, clip it to your haul bag, and lower out the bag from the belay, ready to be hauled from above once you are back at the belay.

You take apart the belay and tie it to the end of the lead line (as a backup). Now, you begin to climb the rope, cleaning the protection as you go (you can tie backup knots or use a GriGri as a running knot).

Once you reach the belay, you take the bottom end of the rope (which you clipped onto your harness as a backup at the bottom) and begin to stack it back into the  rope bag, removing the 'tie-off knot' as you go, stopping when you only have a small two-metre loop left (this is the rope you will attach your soloing device to).

Now you begin to bring up the haul bag, pulling the haul line into the haul-line rope bag as you go (this way, the line is stowed and ready for the next pitch and out of harm's way).

With the bag up, remove the Micro Traxion and clip it onto your harness, then unclip the haul-line karabiner and clip it to your harness.

Now attach your soloing device, tie your backup knot, clip it in and double-check that everything is going to run smoothly.

Begin climbing, repeating as you go.

Continuous loop method

The above method is simple once you understand it and is easy to repeat, working well on most walls. The problem with it is that, at the end of a pitch, you can have quite a lot of weight on you (live and dead rope, plus haul line), which can be worn, but worst of all, you are forced to carry your entire rack. On a standard route, this isn't too much of a problem, and having a complete set of cams, nuts, and quickdraws is something most climbers can take. The problem comes on more challenging routes where you have no idea what you may need, where you may have pegs, copperheads, triples or even quads of cams, not to mention ice tools and crampons (in some cases). What if the pitch takes you six hours or more? Are you going to take food and water on your harness as well?

The continuous loop method is designed to simplify the process, reduce the weight on your harness, and allow gear tagging. Before I talk about the tagging method, I'll just run through a non-tagging scenario.

Continuous loop (non-tagging)

We're back at our multi-pitch crag, ready to try a new technique with the same gear as before (lead line/haul line, rope bags, etc).

- Step by step

You set up your belay as before and stack your lead rope in the rope bag, only this time leaving the dead-end sticking out of the rope bag. Now, you stack your haul line with the far end sticking out. Instead of attaching the haul line to the back of your harness, you tie the end to the dead end of the lead line with a double fisherman's knot (you can use any knot, but a low profile is good).

You attach your Silent Partner as before, with a backup knot, etc, and begin climbing. You are using a 60-metre rope, and now you don't have to worry about three strands of rope below you, just two (live and dead rope). At 30 metres (less as you're using a backup knot, which uses up quite a bit of rope), the dead end of the rope leaves the rope bag and begins to pull up the end of the haul line (where they are tied).

At the belay, you untie both ropes, setting up the lead and haul line as usual. You stick the haul line through the hauler and set it up as before.

You rap and clean the pitch and re-stack all ropes in their rope bags; tie the dead end of the lead line to the end of the haul line and begin again.

Continuous loop (with tagging)

The knot that joins the two ropes can be used as a connection point where you can attach a tag bag, allowing you to pull up the bag either when you need it, or when you reach the halfway point on your lead line (each time you reach halfway on the rope you have, you will need to pull up the tag bag).

Before we get into this, let's look at the tag bag:

- Tag bag

It could be possible to just hang all your rack from the rope, but there is a good chance it would jam or hang up on the belay while being pulled up, so instead, we use a tag bag. The tag bag is a medium-sized haul bag, big enough to take the rack and 30 metres of lead line (I use a small haul bag). Instead of being clipped into the rope, the tag bag is suspended from a fifi hook (attached via a locking oval) with a sturdy friction hitch (threaded through the lifting hole in the fifi) being used to attach it close to the connection point between the ropes.

- Set-up

Before you set off, you have your continuous loop system all set up, only this time, you attach the tag bag via a friction hitch at the joint knot, then hang the tag bag from a bolt.  You need to pay close attention at this point that both the lead and haul line still feed out of their bags smoothly and will not become fouled or tangled up by anything (the lead line running around a haul bag strap, for example). As the dead end of the lead line comes out of its rope bag, it should pull directly onto the fifi. Once this happens, you can pull up the tag bag, which will pull up the haul line. You will usually only need to pull up the tag rack after half a rope length, as you should be able to see what you need.  

At this halfway mark you will pull up the tag bag (it should be light enough for you to just hand over hand it), and once up, hang the fifi off the gear you're on (or the gear below). You will now have your tag bag with a 30-metre loop of lead line. At this point, begin stuffing the rope back into the stuff sack inside the tag bag (the dead end goes in first).

One advantage of this system is that once hung, the tag bag takes the weight of the haul line, and if connecting the rope to protection to stop back-slipping, you can end up with no weight on you at all, which can be great on long hard pitches.

Once you've pulled the bag up halfway, you must pull it up again within 15 metres (30-metre loop divided by two), then 7 metres, then 3, by which point you will be at the belay.

- Notes about continuous tagging

Using a dynamic haul line in your continuous loop allows you to switch from the lead line to the haul line in an emergency. If your lead line is damaged or cut, or you're faced with an area where the rock is worrying you (you're afraid your lead line may be cut), then you can use the haul line instead or both. To do this, you would:

Make an intermediate mini belay from two or three runners.

Pull up the tag bag and attach it directly to this belay, removing it from the continuous loop.

Remove any knots and friction hitch from the rope.

Make sure you take any rack you need from the tag bag, as you will not be able to get it once you've started climbing.

Clip both the haul line and lead line sides of the loop into the mini belay.  

Pull all the haul line up so that both ends (haul and lead line) are tight to the belay.  

Starting at the joining point of the loop, feed this into the rope bag inside the tag bag.

Once stacked away, use some form of self-belay on the haul line as well as the lead line (probably a Clove hitch).

Climb, clipping both ropes or placing one rope to the side.

Once through the dangerous section, you can switch back to just the lead line (or continue with both).

When you rap the haul line, unclip it from all protection.

A soloist's pitch is one that's led, cleaned and hauled, and half a pitch is just lead, meaning that you clean and haul the pitch the following morning. This approach works on many levels. Firstly, it's vital to set a sustainable pace that doesn't leave you exposed to exhaustion. Soloing requires sound judgment, and being strung out, especially in the dark, is a sure-fire way to get into trouble. So, knowing your limits and only climbing what you can comfortably manage is the way to go. Keep a good safety margin by starting in the light and finishing before dark. Darkness adds a whole new set of problems for the soloist and is best avoided unless you plan on setting speed records.

Having a rope fixed on the pitch above gives an extra level of safety, as your belay is backed up by the belay above.

The first thing I do is stack my ropes, which, being tired the night before, I just left looped on the belay. I set both rope bags and carefully fed the haul and lead lines into their bags (the free end goes in first on the lead line and last on the haul line). Once this is done, I check that my lead rope is correctly attached to the belay masterpoint and backed up directly to a bolt. With my haul bag hanging from the masterpoint, I know that a pull on the lead line will lift the bag and help provide a soft fall.

The Slippery Hitch

The slippery hitch is well worth learning, as it can add a layer of security when tagging your bag. It's a neat trick that may prove handy some other time. When tagging, the rope from the bag is fed from its connection to the bag, up past the fifi, and looped several times through the karabiner the bag is hanging from. Once tied (you can tie a couple or dozen releasable loops), if the fifi fails (say it's knocked off), the slippery hitch will catch it, while when you pull up from the other end of the rope, the hitch will simply untie. When using a slippery hitch, pay close attention to where the loop lays and that it won't tangle or catch on any other part of the system.

Errors

Knowing what to do and why you do it is vital when only you can check yourself.  Yet, no matter how good you are, there will be mistakes, especially when you're tired or pushing yourself hard.  Here, I've listed the major errors you may encounter on a solo ascent, how to avoid them and what to do if you don't.

Back-slipping

Error: The weight of the lead rope below the leader clipped into the gear causes the rope to begin feeding in reverse back through the device.

One vital but often overlooked item of soloing equipment is the rope stopper (or stoppers, as more than one may be required). These are light-duty friction hitch designed to take the weight of the rope below you so that (a) the weight of the down rope does not pull the up rope through the belay device in reverse and (b) by taking the weight off the rope, you allow your self-belay device to run smoothly.

Consider this scenario: You lead a straight-up pitch for 20 metres, having a backup loop (the loop between your backup knot and your device). Without warning, the rope begins to slip backwards through your belay device, only stopping when it comes tight on the knot. What has happened is that the weight of the down rope has become greater than the up rope, meaning it is dragged down. In most cases, this is annoying, but it could be more serious if you were in the middle of free climbing and suddenly the rope whizzes back through your device.

Avoiding the problem: Attaching a small friction hitch to a piece of protection and onto the rope can take the weight off the rope and eliminate the problem.

A few things to consider about your rope stopper are its strength and stretch. Strength is not that important; in fact, I think that having a high-strength friction hitch could be a hindrance, as you can end up just rope climbing up on a single piece of gear (backed up to the belay) if you're not careful to pull all the rope tight before rapping down to clean. Also, a high-strength friction hitch will be static (for example, a 5 mm cord), and unless it's super long, this will interfere with the dynamic properties of the rope: with a fall, the friction hitch will invert and be dragged upwards and hold the rope to the piece it's on (reducing the dynamic properties of the rope, as well as shocking the single piece). The ability for a force to be spread over the full length of the down rope is vital when doing hard aid.

The dynamic (stretch) properties are way more important as they will allow the rope to remain dynamic whilst doing the job. The best material is a 1.5-metre friction hitch made from a 3 mm bungee cord or a skydiver elastic band. The former is cheap, light and very stretchy and will hold any rope well but still stretch when loaded. The latter is simpler, and several can be carried (you can stick them on your wrist). The bands are designed to hold your chute when packing, and although stronger than you'd imagine, they are cheap and disposable.

One item to avoid is a 2 mm cord, which is neither strong nor stretchy, but worse still, in my experience, there is a chance it could cut or damage the rope!  When a piece of 2 mm cord is shock-loaded with anything more than body weight, it will snap, sending one end flying away at super high speed, with enough force to slice through objects like a knife. I have used a 2 mm cord loop to demonstrate bounce testing several times; I've received deep cuts to my fingers when the cord broke (I now wear gloves).

You can, of course, tie a knot in the rope and clip this into a piece of protection, but again, as the rope has low stretch (unless you apply a high force), you face the same problem as using a full-strength . If you need to use your rope, use an Alpine Butterfly and make the loop about a metre long to retain some dynamic stretch in the rope. I would only use this technique when confident I won't fall (at least convince myself of that fact).

Crossover

Error: Lead line is crossed over the haul line.

If using a haul line or zip-line, your haul line must always remain on top of the lead line, so it's worth checking this constantly; this usually happens when you clip in the lead line to protect over the top of your haul line.

Twisting them means that: You may find it hard to rap down the haul line, especially if the pitch is very steep, complex or traversing (you won't just have the rope plum to the belay).

Once crossed over, when you release the haul bag, it will be trapped under the lead line, so it will not swing out in the direct line to the belay. If the pitch is not too complex, you can fix this when cleaning, but if it is, or the haul bag ends up pulling hard on your lead rope, it could make things very tricky. Pay close attention to this if it's very windy; a heavy-loaded haul line rubbing across a loaded lead line might not cut through each other but may prove very worrying.

If you are running a tagging system (a rack attached to your haul line, then crossing the ropes will bring the whole system to a halt, as you won't be able to pull the tag rack/bag around the crossed-over ropes.

Avoiding the error: Whenever you clip your protection, take a moment to see where your haul line is running and that it is clear of the lead line, running free to the belay below.

Sorting the problem: If you spot a crossover, you will need to sort it out, usually by descending and unclipping the lead line. If you've been observant, you should be able to bend down and re-clip the lead line to free the haul line, but if not, then you'll have to rap down to sort it out. To rappel mid-pitch, it's best to create an intermediate belay (two pieces equalised) or tie off the rope to your highest piece, then the piece below. Clip in your belay device (and backup friction hitch), unclip from your soloing device and rap down. Once sorted, the rope climbs back up (a good reason to lead with your ascenders). As you can imagine, doing this is a nuisance and wastes a lot of time, but it does help to focus the mind in the future, making you a tad more observant.

Dead Clipping

Error: Dead rope is clipped instead of live rope.

Crossovers are a pain, but they are not life-threatening. Dead clipping is and is by far the most dangerous error a soloist can make. Dead clipping is caused when the dead rope is confused with the live rope, and the dead rope is clipped into the protection as you climb. If you fall, instead of the live rope coming tight onto the anchor, allowing the protection to arrest your fall, the dead rope is pulled through all the gear (as the rope is yanked out of its rope bag), and you take a factor 2 fall onto the belay (you fall double the height you've climbed, which could be considerable!).

Avoiding the error: To avoid this dangerous error, you need to get into the habit of testing the rope each time you clip protection, tugging at it to check it is tight to the belay. If you pull it and the rope keeps coming up, you have a problem.

Sorting the problem: If you find yourself mid-pitch and have the shocking realisation that you have no gear clipped (it's happened to me!), you will first shit yourself and then you will need to do something about it. The first step is to make yourself safe (if you're soloing, you will probably be attached to solid gear anyway), and I would build a mini anchor and clip it into it.  Pull up some dead rope to give yourself some slack in the live rope and clip this into the anchor with an Alpine Butterfly knot. Now you need to rap down the dead rope, clipping out the dead rope and clipping in the live rope. If you have good gear, just clip enough pieces to feel safe. Remember that, as you ascend, you will pull up the dead rope through the protection you left un-reclipped, meaning the rope will pass through it, leaving it unattached. If you can just get this when rapping down and jugging when cleaning, that's fine, but if the gear is very marginal, it may get lost (or forgotten), so take this into account.

Reversed Belay Device

Error: Device is attached incorrectly

When you're tired or in a rush, it's quite easy to put on your device incorrectly, especially when using a device such as a GriGri or Soloist. Doing so means the device will be ineffective if you fall, meaning you will drop onto your backup knot. Nine times out of ten, you will spot your error before you move very far, as the rope will feed poorly or not at all.

Avoiding the error: Familiarity with your device (whatever it is) is crucial, but even then, you can make mistakes. The most important thing to do is to always check your device by giving it a yank in the ordination you will fall (do this at the belay by giving yourself some slack between the belay and the device, then yank up on the rope; if the device does not lock then you've got it set up wrong).

The risk of pilot error with devices is one of the many advantages of the Silent Partner, as it's just about impossible to set it up the wrong way (it locks in all directions), a boon if you're doing speed ascents and haven't slept for 24 hours.

As a footnote, if you find you're making this kind of mistake often, then perhaps you should take a moment and reconsider your climb, fitness, speed or even the ability to undertake this solo ascent. If you are in real doubt about such things, then stop.

Sorting the problem: Just clip in with knot and re-attach the device.

Dead Line

Error: Haul line is not clipped to belay

This is another potentially fatal error that could see you rap off the end of your haul line! It will occur if you forget to attach the end of your haul line to the belay (the end will usually be attached to your haul bags, but not always), meaning that when you rap down after you've led the pitch, you could rap past the belay. In most situations, you will not even notice this error, as the end of the haul line remains in the rope bag, but where you have a traversing pitch, you will need to climb the rope (or at least pull yourself) back to the belay using your haul line. If the haul line is not attached as you pull on it, the rope end will just feed out of the bag, and you'll swing back into space!

Avoiding the error: As with all such errors, you need a good pre-climb system, where you check each part of the belay before you set off (lead rope is attached, haul line is attached).

Sorting the problem: The only time this happened to me, I was rapping down in a hail storm with just my shorts and t-shirt on (desperate to get to my belay and under the flysheet), but as I tried to swing back, the line just fed out of the rope bag and I was left hanging. In that situation, I was lucky to be running two haul lines, so jugging up as fast as I could, I got back to the belay and rapped down again (luckily, this one was attached!).  

If you find yourself unable to get back to the bottom belay, then you can either re-ascend to the top belay and descend via your lead line (slow) or climb back up the haul line until you can grab the lead line, and then clip into this with a daisy chain and use it as a hand-line as you rap the haul line back to the belay (you could clip in your haul line, but this may prove difficult to unclip when cleaning with your haul bag is attached).

Fall Line

Error: On a traversing pitch, the weight of your lead line between you and the tag bag leads to the rope feeding out, which can pull the fifi hook off and result in the tag bag falling (which will shock-load you).

Avoiding the error: This problem is caused when the weight of the rope between you and the rope stacking in the rope bag (in the tag bag) becomes great enough to start feeding the rope out. I think a sudden jerk often initiates this as you move; as the rope feeds out, it picks up some momentum, the rope feeds faster and gets heavier, and before you know it, all the rope has fed out, jerked off the fifi, and your bag is falling! On a traversing pitch, keeping the tag bag close to you (keep moving it along as you climb) can help to reduce the risk of this, but often this may not be an option. Fifi hooks that can only be lifted by an upward pull (such as the Petzl fifi) could stop the bag from being pulled off, but this design could also mean that the tag bag won't release either.

Sorting the problem: If the lead rope begins to feed out at high speed and you're running a normal set-up with a fifi hook, there is little you can do apart from praying it doesn't pull the bag off. If it does, my advice would be to take it or risk hurting yourself by lifting the rope high and trying to take out some of the shock load with your arm.

Cleaning

You've climbed your pitch, set up your belay with the haul line secured to the haulier, and backed up. Now you're ready to rap back down to clean. A few things to check before you go:

Make sure you leave your rack on the belay, as rapping down and rope climbing up with it is a waste of energy. If you rack gear well on a sling on the way back up, you can transfer it over once you arrive back at the top belay.

Make sure you have both ascenders to climb back up the rope. Rapping down without the ascenders will happen one day, forcing you to improvise using a belay device (set in auto-lock mode) and a friction hitch, or better still, two mini ascenders (Petzl Tibloc-style).  

Ensure you have your hammer, funkness device and nut tool; this is one reason why it's a good idea to attach your hammer cord to your sit harness rather than your chest harness, as it will stop you from forgetting it.

Get into a routine of saying "ascenders, hammer, nut tool" before you rap down the rope.

Descending the rope

Most solo climbers (unless they use a GriGri for lead belaying) will probably rap on a belay device, as a GriGri adds weight/bulk to your harness, which could already be quite heavy. A belay device has more flexibility as friction can be increased or decreased by adding or removing karabiners, meaning on a slab, having one karabiner clipped into works best, while on an overhanging rap, you may want two (to reduce your death grip on the rope).

Dead man’s hand

When rapping, get into the habit of always having a backup; this is not only to stop you if you get hit by an object while rapping but, more importantly, as a backup to a fuck-up! When you're tired, it's very easy to make a stupid mistake, such as not clipping the rope incorrectly, not doing up your screwgate properly, or any other of a million ways to die (I once put on my GriGri on the wrong way round four times on the same descent, not good when you have a haul bag attached to you).

When rapping the haul line, you can create a backup using a friction hitch or one of your ascenders, but for speed, I always use my ascender, as I can clip this straight into the lead rope upon reaching the belay. With a friction hitch, you can either clip this to your belay loop or leg loop, but on a wall, I prefer the belay loop method, clipping off my belay device a few pockets higher on my daisy chain. Having a belay device a little higher than normal also allows you to see the device much better, reducing the risk of making a mistake (the real estate of a harness belay loop can be very crowded).

With an ascender, this needs to be set up ready to rope climb the pitch (which is what you will be doing once you reach the bottom of the rope), with an aider connected (use your lower' foot loop' jumar). Simply rappel with the ascender held above the belay device with your finger pulling the cam back from the rope (if you're terrified, you can use this method and the friction hitch method!).

When using a friction hitch backup, attach this first, then pull up a little slack to thread your belay device without fighting the weight of the rope. If you opt for the ascender method, you can do the same: clip the ascender into the rope (inverted), pull in some slack and let the ascender hold it while you thread the device.

Pre-rope climb set up

Before you set off down, get both ascenders set up for rope climbing. Then, if need be, you can switch modes (important if you rap too low). The bottom ascender (with the aider) will probably already be clipped into the haul line as a backup, so to have the top ascender close at hand, clip this into your backup jumar.

Gloves

I would always wear my hauling, cleaning and leading gloves, so don't forget them.  Also, when using a belay device on a single thick rope, things can get hot, and leather gloves will help you control the rope better. Heat can be an even bigger problem with a GriGri, as the rope is running around a small steel cam; on a belay device, the heat is dissipated out into the chunky karabiners (an excellent reason to double them up, as you increase not only the control friction but also heat absorption), so leather gloves are recommended (a bare hand can feel pretty puny when rapping on a GriGri over a significant drop!).

To clean on the way down or not?

As you descend, you will often be tempted to clean gear, but generally, you should leave it until you go back up. The reasons being:

You will simply end up having to climb back up the rope with the extra weight of gear that you could have left above you.

You might make cleaning gear harder if you remove key pieces, especially on traverses.

Removing gear going up on ascenders is always easier. As you take gear out on the way down, you swing around too much (not good for the rope). The only time I'd clean on the way down is if the gear was highly spaced and its position would make it irretrievable, but even if that was the case, you should be able to pass it on ascenders, then swing back to get it.

Shake out the dead

As you descend, check the lead rope is running correctly down from the belay, especially where you have re-belayed the rope with rope stoppers. If you can do it easily, disengage rope stoppers to stop them from being overly stretched when cleaning.  Failure to check that the rope has no dead slack can result in a sudden release of slack as you ascend, which will be very scary and could result in your ascenders shock-loading the rope (not good).

Two haul lines

If you have two haul lines, then rap down on both of them, both to increase safety but also as a precaution that one might not be attached to the belay (again, make sure you always have your haul lines fixed to the belay, as not doing so will see you hanging in space on your rope ends!).

Regain: Getting into the belay – straight pitches

So you have rapped down your haul line until you're level with the belay. Lock off your ascender/friction hitch and pull yourself in until you can clip your aider/daisy chain into a bolt or the masterpoint of the belay. Once secure, swap your backup ascender from the haul line and into the lead line. Now you are safe; you can unclip your belay device and begin to strip the belay.

Regain: Getting in – overhangs and traverses

When you cannot simply rap down to your last belay, you must somehow pull yourself in. If you can just pull yourself in, then great, but as you get closer, you will often find yourself pulling yourself up with your hands on the rope and ultimately sliding back down.

The first thing to do is time your position correctly as if you rap down too far below the belay, you'll end up having to rope climb up (requiring both ascenders), while if you go too high, you can end up stuck between a locked-off belay device/backup and your belay.

The most effective method is to clip your top ascender (clipped to your lower/foot jumar/backup) into the rope below you once you're level with the belay (which may still be tens of meters away) and begin to slowly take in the rope, pulling yourself nearer. Don't pull super tight, as you might find it hard to release your backup jumar.

If it looks like you need to drop a long way below the belay to regain, clip a niner through the head of the ascender (making sure it's upside down so that when you lower, it will be facing the belay), then bite the bullet and clip into the rope below when level. Pull yourself as close as possible, then rappel until you're hanging 100% from this ascender (you'll probably be hanging in the bottom of a big V now). Swap over the ascender that was your backup (possibly now inverted) and clip it to the new 'up' rope and rope climb up to the belay.

Dismantling the belay

So you're at the belay. First, secure yourself to the lead rope, ready to jumar/clean the pitch, and make sure to take in all the dead rope. Tie into the end with a Figure 8, then, if using a  GriGri, attach this or tie in short (you are attached at four points, but being tied to the end doesn't count as a fall to the end may kill you anyway).

Releasing the bag

The first thing to do is get the bag off the belay and onto the haul line. Invariably, you will never have a tight haul line leading down to your bag, but rather a load of slack (the haul line will generally be pulled out of your rope bags when getting onto the belay). If you were to simply lower the bag out all the way, you would be wasting a great deal of energy, as every inch you lift a bag requires effort. Instead, you need to shorten the haul line so the bag loses as little height as possible. Your bag should already be set up for far-end hauling (Petzl Micro Traxion attached to the bag's suspension). First, take in all the slack with the Traxion until it's as tight as you can get it, then backup the pulley by tying a Figure 8 and clipping this into the bag's suspension karabiner. If you don't want to use/need a far-end hauler, you can simply pull the rope tight and tie an Alpine Butterfly knot and clip this into the suspension karabiner (this will never be as tight, but is safer as you don't have the Traxion in your system).

Make sure the haul-line end is detached from the belay and free (you will have several metres of haul line to lower out the bag; make sure the rope end is free, so it doesn't form a loop as you haul).

You can release the bag using the docking cord. If it's a short lower-out, then just clip the lower-out/haul line into a karabiner, but if it's a long lower-out, use a monster Munter.

The bag will now swing out into space, freeing you with the belay.

Clean the belay while hanging on your ascenders, and don't forget to take both rope bags (lead-rope bag for stowing rope while jugging and haul-line bag to store haul line while hauling).  

Cleaning

Clean the pitch as you normally would, pay attention to the rack, and sort as much as possible. I always rack my quickdraws on my harness, ready for the next pitch, and rack my gear on a sling, ready to be clipped on my chest harness.

Cleaning on a GriGri: The moving 'knot'

When you clip in your ascenders to clean, you can clip the top ascender on and off without tying in all the time using a GriGri clipped to your belay loop. To begin with, you will need to feed the rope through as you go, but slowly, as the rope's weight increases below the device, the rope will begin to feed itself through; this will effectively be a moving knot, increasing your safety. Using this method rather than just tying knots also allows more effective 'rope bagging' (see below), which again reduces the chances of 'hang up' with multiple rope loops below the cleaner.

Lastly, the GriGri makes a very effective cleaning tool, allowing you to lower off each piece of gear if you can't master the rope grab method.  To do this, you would:

Push both ascenders close to gear and make sure GriGri is tight on the rope.

Take in tight on the GriGri so you're hanging from this, not the top jumar.

Unclip the top ascender and pass the gear (add a karabiner to the jumar's head hole if you think it will be loaded initially at an angle over about 15 degrees).

Unclip the bottom (foot) ascender and clip this in (if you can), or leave it dangling until you're able.

Now, let some slack through your GriGri, and you will lower out from the piece until all the weight is on your top jumar. Then, just swing back and take out the gear.

Rope bagging

One of the biggest jobs on a wall seems to be bagging up your lead and haul lines in their rope bags. One way to reduce the time taken and the risk of rope ends/loops blowing onto rope eating flakes is to bag the lead line as you jug. To do this, you just clip a rope bag to your harness, and after tying into the end of the lead line, start feeding in the rope as you go  (you will need to know where the  'bottom' of the rope is as this will need to be tied to the haul line if using the continuous loop method, plus it's good practise). As you ascend, the rope will feed through your GriGri (this system works best with a GriGri), so all you need to do is carefully feed the rope down into the rope bag every 5 metres or so (packing it down with your hand will reduce the chance of the rope 'running out' again whereby the rope feeds back out of the bag when the weight of the unstuffed rope is heavier than the stowed rope). Once you reach the belay, the lead line is already fixed to the belay, ready to feed out of the bag.

Using a cleaning cord

If you want to stuff your rope bag as you clean, you will need to avoid any big lower-out on your lead rope, especially where you will need to untie from the end and pull the rope through, as this will require the use of your already stuffed lead rope. To reduce the need to use your rope, use a cleaning cord instead: a 15–20 metre length of 6 mm cord stowed in a stuff sack. This cord can do double duty as a lower-out extension for your haul bag, cordelette or rap slings). The cord is thin enough to be slipped into peg eyes, bolts or other fixed gear with a karabiner already attached, allowing you to clean pieces without leaving junk slings behind. To set up the line, first clip the stuff sack to a locking karabiner, then take one end of the cord and tie it to the karabiner with a Munter (Italian) hitch tied off securely (attachment point A); this could just be a Figure 8, but having a releasable knot allows you to untie and escape from it if you misjudge the distance of a lower-off more easily or your 'pull end' jams in a lower-off. Once tied, feed in the rope until the end is free. This free end will be the treading end.

The bag should be stowed in a small, tough stuff sack (Fish or Metolius make some great little bags) with a clip loop to clip it to your harness.

To use on a lower-out, you can either use a bight of cord (a loop that will effectively reduce your total lower-out distance to ¼ your rope length) or a single strand (this gives you an effective lower-out of ½ the length).

Using the loop method, attach the free end to your harness with an Alpine Butterfly or Figure 8 (attachment point B). Now, make a loop from this strand and push it through the eye of the piece you want to lower off. Clip this loop back into your harness (attachment point C) without the knot, and pulling in on the free end (feeding onto the stuff sack), pulley yourself tight until you can remove the karabiner and rope from the lower out. Now, you should be able to let the rope feedback through, the loops dragging as you go. If you have a 20-metre cord, the rope will go tight after 5 metres, and you will need to work something else out. Once you're lowered out, simply unclip the loop (attachment point C), and the loop will pull through, freeing you from the lower-off.

To use the cord for a longer lower-out, you need to feed the end through the eye of the lower-off and attach this back to your harness (with an Alpine Butterfly), then clip in the other side with a Munter hitch and, again, pulley yourself up until you're hanging from the cord.  Remove the lead rope and karabiner, and lower out on the cord until it goes slack (with 20 metres of cord, you can lower out 10 metres). Now untie both knots, pull the cord through the lower out and store it back in the stuff sack.

Transition from cleaning to hauling and leading

Once you reach the belay, you should do the following while still hanging from your ascenders on the lead rope:

Remove the lead rope bag and attach it to the belay, ready for leading.

Strip off the rack and clip it into the racking sling, ready for the next lead.

Give yourself 20 feet of lead line and clip in as a backup for hauling.

Take off fail-safe on the haul line.

Switch ascenders from the lead line to the haul line.

Begin hauling by the 'diver' method (or alternatives).

Hauling

Hauling kit from point A to B is one of the most taxing elements of big wall soloing; exhausting, frustrating and sometimes potentially dangerous. To succeed and thrive on a wall, you must master all forms of hauling, docking, setting up your bags and packing. In this section, I will discuss all elements of moving your gear, both to and from the route and up it.

Pre-wall: Preparing the pig

So all your kit has made it to the base of the wall: food, water, medical, clothing, rack – all of it in a big mess around your bag. First, you need some order to plan what you don't need now, what you will need now, and what you may need now! (emergency kit such as your shell, first aid supplies, water and snacks).  

Task number one is to remove all the carry straps from the bag and stick them in the bottom in a stuff sack (if you're sure you won't need them before the descent). If you lose the bottom webbing straps, you can use a quickdraw instead, but remember the belt!

If you have one bag, begin by stowing water in the bottom, but if you have two bags, spread the water around in case one is lost.  

Having two or 3-litre bottles will create gaps, which can be filled with smaller .5-litre bottles. I like to have a can of Coke (or diabetes juice) at the end of the day, so I tend to stuff these cans between my bottles to add more fluids and protect them from damage; tough, flexible water bladders (like those made by Ortlieb or MSR) will allow you to fill more of the available space, but these cost more than cheap bottles of water. Keep three litres of water near the top each day to drink. If you're on a heavily travelled route, consider urinating into empty bottles to keep the ledges/rock clean for others (I think this should be established as 'the norm' on routes like the Nose on El Cap). Empty bottles can also be used to store trash or WAG bags (poo bags) if you run out of space in your poo tube (make a slit in the bottle, then gaffer tape shut).

If you're going for an extended climb (7+ days), you'll probably need two bags, so fill the secondary one with kit or food you won't need until the second half of the climb, and leave it on the bottom of your main bag.

Although some people use their sleeping mat to line a haul bag, I tend to use a sheet of Correx to line the bag to make it stiff to protect the contents and stop the bag from becoming damaged (it helps to reduce damage to water bottles). Cardboard can also be used but tends to be suitable for only one trip. Plus, it can get smelly if damp (although you could eat it if things get desperate!). In an emergency, the Correx sheeting could be used to sleep on or be inserted into a sleeping bag for extra insulation.  As for my mat, I always use a thin foam mat (won't puncture) that is cut to fit rolled up around the inside of my bag on top of the Correx.

Setting up to haul

So your bags are packed, and now you need to attach them to your haul rope ...

- Swivel or not?

On slabby terrain, a swivel makes a difference, as it allows the bags to roll across slabs without twisting the haul line (this can lead to tangles), but hopefully, if soloing, you'll be on steeper ground, so you will be off the slabs. A swivel also adds one more link in the system that could cause issues. One variation of the standard swivel is the combined swivel and locking karabiner, which work very well as they keep the locking karabiner/knot/suspension at the correct angle (the most dangerous angle is a karabiner hanging horizontally, held between both sets of straps with the haul line hung on the gate, although even then, with modern karabiners this should still be safe).

- Attaching your haul line

There are many variations when it comes to attaching a haul line, with numerous methods designed to overcome various problems, but first, let's look at what we want our connection to achieve.

We need a connection that offers 100% reliability, even when loaded badly.

We need a system that can be detached to allow shortening/retying of the haul line and allow for the swift untangling of ropes.

We need an adapted system to use pulleys, GriGris or ascenders for direct hauling.

Although we could tie the bags to the haul line or attach them with a taped-up maillon, the best and fastest method is to attach it with two large HMS karabiners with opposed gates, as this offers redundancy as well as ease of use.

The only knot you should ever use with a haul is an Alpine Butterfly, as no other knot will untie easily after heavy loading – a vital requirement when shortening the haul line.

- Knot protection

Your knot will need some kind of protection while on the wall, and although plastic bottles work out, the best method is a heavy-duty fuel funnel. Remember that if you lower the bag with any rope protector, you should tie the lower-out line below the knot protector. Otherwise, it will split apart or become damaged. Also, your knot protector should have a clip-in loop that can be attached to the knot so it isn't lost.

- Docking cord

When you haul a bag up, you need to be able to clip it off to a separate connector, as the hauler needs to be unclipped for the next pitch. This connector would usually be a daisy chain or sling lark's foot through one strap on the haul bag (this way, you can still access the bag).  One thing to note is that if you do use a daisy chain (I'd avoid it), only ever clip one pocket when clipping it in short, as the huge weight involved, as well as standing on the bag (very common), could see the bag rip a pocket, and if you've cross-clipped pockets (or clipped two pockets), the bag could come free!  One problem with this system when using medium- to heavy-weight bags is that when the next haul is directly above, it's easy to unclip this daisy chain (the bag lifts and the daisy chain is unweighted and so unclipped); on traversing pitches, or when the next belay is below, your daisy chain will not be unweighted. Unclipping a weighted daisy chain in these situations requires you to either lift the whole weight of the bag by yourself or set up a mini haul (best done by clipping the lower-out line high on the belay and hauling on a GriGri or belay device).

A better alternative, and one I would recommend, is to use a docking cord; this is a 6.5-metre length of 8 mm or 9 mm dynamic rope that allows you to tie off the bags with a releasable knot, giving you both total security and a secure adjustable tie-off, as well as the ability to release the bag on any belay (7 mm cord is acceptable on a normal or an easy wall).

To set up, double up the cord so you have two 3 metre tails, then tie an overhand knot at the bend, making the bight big enough for your hand to pass through. Before you tighten the knot, take a short length of the same cord (about 30 cm but in a different colour), and pass this through the knot to create a second loop that is longer than the primary one (it's vital you know which is which as this will not be as strong at the primary loop). This loop will be used to clip in the bag's suspension karabiners so that when hanging from the belay, the bag is not hanging from just one strap, yet allows you to easily unclip to gain entry to the bag(s). Now, lark's foot is the primary loop to one strap, or if you're using two bags side by side, into one strap on both (see diagram).

To use, when the haul line's knot is about 20 cm from the pulley (the bags have been hauled to the belay), pull up both strands of the docking cord and tie directly into the masterpoint with a Munter hitch (this reduces links in the chain, plus saves a karabiner; note: you need to learn to tie directly into a karabiner without being able to open that gate, which reduces the risk of tying a Clove hitch by accident). Once done, you need to tie off the knot, which you do by taking both strand ends and wrapping them in opposite, overlapping directions (like a maypole) around the loaded cord. After five or so wraps, tie off with a single overhand knot (not a Figure 8, which could 'roll out' under load or a quick-release knot). You now have to release the load on the pulley, remove the cam, and lower the weight onto the cord (untie the overhand knot completely and let the bags run out). That's it; it's easy!

Whenever you have your bags attached via your docking cord, you should back this up by clipping in the haul line as well, just to have some redundancy in the system.

If you need a more shock-absorbing belay chain, you will need to lower the bags a little (see belay section).

Carrying the hauler

If you're tagging your rack with the continuous loop method, then you can stick all your hauling kit (as well as belay stuff) in your tag bag, reducing the weight of your harness.  If you're rope soloing with a haul line attached to the back of your harness, then you'll need to carry the hauler with you.

Far End Hauling

Before we continue, I should cover adding a direct hauler to your system; this is vital for hauling on difficult/featured/slabby or problematic ground, as well as moving the bags off the wall (a good technique for vertical ground, such as on summits), and shortening the haul line before hauling; this is a setup whereby the leader can haul the bag from the bag end (this has various names, but let's call it 'direct hauling', as the hauler is attached directly to the bag). To do this, you add a hauler directly to the haul bag, allowing you to pull the bag over roofs, obstructions etc, rather than rapping down, unsticking it, jugging back up and hauling.  Using a Petzl Micro Traxion is the best method, as this allows very effective hauling in a small, solid, compact pulley. This hauler also allows rapid rope shortening before you release the haul bag (when soloing, the haul bag never hangs from the end of the haul line but rather some way along it). The far-end pulley is set under the knot protector; remember to always have some slack rope after the pulley so you can haul it through (pass this through the knot protector). Never trust the pulley alone, as cams can be restricted or depressed by objects, meaning they don't lock off as they should, resulting in the bag running off the rope. To avoid this, tie the haul line several feet down from the pulley (see diagram) using an Alpine Butterfly or Figure 8, tucking this spare rope into the bag so it can't hang up. If lowering the bag from belays, leave the rope end free so it just hangs down, but make a backup knot a metre down from the pulley (see diagram).

To use the far end hauler if the bag gets stuck, you rap down the free lead line (or the free end of the haul line, tied off to the belay), then with a combination of pulling on the bag, and pulling on the rope, you lift the bag high enough on the Traxion to get it past the impasse. Now you rope climb back up the rope and haul. If you have multiple hang-ups (say on a route like Lurking Fear on El Cap), you could just climb the free end of the haul line, so like a counterbalance, allowing you to remain close to the bags and move them when they get stuck (remain backed up to the lead line if you do this).

Hauling light-weight bags

With a bag or tag rack below half your body weight (20–50 kg), you can try hauling using your hands, but you'll soon get tired. An alternative is pulling the load up like a lazy climbing partner.  Putting the rope through a karabiner will make it a little easier, but a GriGri, Tibloc or guide plate in auto-lock mode will allow you to take rests as you pull up the load. An alpine clutch (see diagram) is an alternative method, but I don't have the right karabiners to make it work, as they need to be the same shape. The best method is just to employ a mini pulley (or a large one, that's what you have) such as the Petzl Micro Traxion, as hauling is what it does well, and it will save you time and effort. With a light load, you can usually just pull the rope through the pulley using gloved hands, with one pulling the up strand and the other the down strand. Unfortunately, aside from speed ascents and rack hauling, most of your hauling will be medium- to heavy-weight!

Hauling medium-weight bags

Before we get into this, remember that even if you were planning on taking twice as long on a wall as with a partner, you would only be hauling a bag as heavy as on a partnered ascent, as you carry half the water used by a two-man team; this means that if you've managed on team ascents of walls (let's hope you have!), then you can handle most solo walls.  

This book is not designed as a stand-alone 'How to climb a big Wall', but for completeness, I'll cover what I feel works for hauling. The three most effective ways to haul are what I call the 'diver' haul (my favourite), the 'squat' haul (not as easy, but works when a diver haul is not possible) and the hip haul (good for lighter loads).

- Diver haul

This is called a diver haul as it reminds me of free-divers pulling themselves down lines to get further into the deep, and it is a 'space haul' without a second-person hauling. To do this, you simply attach yourself to the haul line with both ascenders, using the lead line length as a backup (the length depends on how far you want to drop). Once secure, you use your body weight as a counterbalance (so your bags need to be close to your weight, give or take), and grabbing the up rope (the loaded rope coming up from the bag), you begin hauling yourself downwards. With this system, you can raise a bag quickly with minimal energy if you jump well. Pull down until your backup goes tight, jug up, then repeat.

- Squat haul

A squat haul is harder work and uses your body weight less effectively, making more use of the arms and legs. With this system, you effectively use a rope grab (a GriGri or an ascender is best) clipped to your harness to pull the rope through the pulley. Either by squatting or half squatting down (you can press against the wall with your arms or even press out using your feet), you pull 30 cm to 60 cm of haul line through the pulley. You then pull yourself back up, pulling the rope back through your GriGri and repeat (clipping an ascender to the masterpoint so you can pull up on its handle is great). The best thing about using a GriGri is that once the bag needs to be lowered onto the docking cord and the pulley's cam is released, you can easily let out the slack (it takes a bit more practice with a jumar).

- Hip haul

This haul is set up as with the squat but tends to work best with a GriGri clipped directly to the harness leg and waist to give the maximum distance between the haulier and GriGri; this is designed to maximise the amount of pull your hips have from you to the pulley. To haul, use a combination of pressing away with your hands (like a standing press up) and pulling with your hips (the overall effect is a cross between having sex and having a crap), pulling the rope through about 30 cm at a time. With each pull, you must take in the slack with the GriGri; this is best done by clipping the end of the rope coming out of the GriGri through a karabiner high on the belay so you're able to pull down on the rope and pulley as you move back to your start position. Although you're only pulling in a small amount of rope at a time, this technique requires minimal movement or energy (compared to the squat haul) and works well with a lighter load; it is especially good in hot weather when hauling can sap your strength.

Hauling heavy-weight bags

If you're very light or climbing the biggest of walls (10+ days), then you may find that none of the medium-weight options works for you, or not at the start at least (remember that your bags will get lighter each day as long as you drink water). In these situations, you have multiple choices to manage the heaviest loads. I learned that, on most walls, you must employ different haul techniques depending on the situation.

- Double haul

This is one of the simplest heavy-weight hauling methods and personally one I find the most effective, as the weight of each bag tends to be less than in a medium-haul and using the diver haul method means they come up fast. To do a double haul without the weight of having two haul lines attached to your harness, you need to use it as part of the continuous loop system (so the haul lines aren't attached to you directly).  

Both haul lines need their rope bags feeding up from the belay when leading, and I would split bags into your main bag and then a second bag that holds the second half of your food and water (so you don't have to open it).

The only technical detail that needs covering (as you can haul the bags any way you want) is preparing the haul line attachment at the top belay before rapping. If you have two pulleys, you could set up both bags with one each, but normally you only have one. Hang one bag from a pulley as normal, but from a second HMS karabiner, tie the haul line in with a Munter hitch, then tie this off with at least a metre of slack; back this up by tying a Figure 8 into the slack and clip off again (so that if your Munter tie-off failed, the bag would not run out and fall).

Once you have hauled the bag (A) onto the hauler and secured it,

Remove its haul line (bag A) from the haulier (without taking the haulier off the masterpoint).

Untie the Figure 8 backup from bag B and attach this to the hauler (make sure it runs in the correct direction).

Attach an ascender to a long quickdraw and clip this to the masterpoint.

Clip the ascender (inverted) into the haul line to act as a rope grab (holding the bag).

Now untie the knot, tie off the Munter hitch, and lower the weight of the bag onto the jumar.

Remove the Munter hitch from the HMS and remove the HMS from the masterpoint.

Take in the slack on the hauler until the weight is off the jumar.

Remove the ascender and quickdraw, and start hauling.

One bad point with the system is that you add 35% more rope handling/stuffing to your system, but on a big route, this is offset by the utility of having an extra rope for fixing/replacement lead rope.

- 3:1 pulley

Using three pulleys in your system can make a heavy single haul feel much easier, reducing the weight by a factor of three (so a 150 kg haul bag only needs a 50 kg pull). The downside is that the rope hauled through your top pulley only lifts the bag by a ratio of 1:3 (so 60 cm of rope would mean you only lift the bag 20 cm). The 3:1 system can be pretty slow and frustrating, and on a team ascent, I always opt for space hauling (but this is not an option when you're soloing). I have used this system to do single hauls for a five-person team with seven days' water (a load close to the safe working limit of the pulley).

To set up, use two medium-sized (not tiny crevasse-rescue-kit-sized) pulleys sheave mounted on sealed ball bearings (such as the Petzl Rescue, Partner or Mini); Use in combination with a Petzl Pro Traxion (the first pulley in the system, as well as your rope holder). You can also use a Micro Traxion, giving you a spare locking pulley. The whole system can be put together using the gear at hand, but the more in-line things are, the more efficient it will be (clipping a pulley into the bottom of the Pro Traxion works well). The bottom pulley should be attached to either one of your ascenders or carry a Petzl Croll or Basic to do the job. Clipping a little weight to the Croll/Basic (such as a large cam) will weigh it down so that it runs back down the rope each time you let off the main pulling jumar.

How you pull the haul line through the pulley depends on you and the load, but variations of the squat and hip haul, plus the diver method, can work if you create a long enough 'Z' in your pulley.

- Chongo 2:1 system

This is quite a complex way of hauling that requires quite a bit of gear, a perfect setup and a lot of practice to make it work well; if you manage this, you will have a system that can take some of the grinds out of hauling, which is ideal for small/light climbers or climbers with big loads. The Chongo 2:1 (or Chongo wall ratchet) was developed over many years, on many walls, by various people (including rescue teams). Over time, the concept has been tweaked to squeeze every last drop of performance from the system, as any kink in performance is multiplied in reverse (a 10% increase in resistance due to a poor pulley would be 20% in use due to it being a 2:1 system). Chongo (a homeless big-wall philosopher and slackliner) is most often given credit, as he spent a lot of time coaching big-wall newbies on the technique, hanging around Camp 4 (most often on the pretext of selling on a copy of his 'Ground Manual' photocopied big-wall book).

This concept is simple: to create a separate compact, light and effective hauling system remote from the haul line. In doing this, a thinner (5 mm Dyneema or 5 mm Mammut Pro cord), more static, lower friction rope can be employed, with a 2:1 system giving greater speed than a 3:1 on the haul line but with almost the same (or greater) efficiency due to the total focus on each component of the system.

System components

To set up, you must invest in good gear, as throwing in cheap pulleys or the wrong karabiners will lower the system's overall efficiency. To make a Chongo 2:1 you need the following items:

1 x Petzl Micro Traxion (Pro Traxion or Mini Traxion also work, but a smaller pulley allows greater travel for the system).

2 x Petzl Rescue Pulleys (only use medium-sized high-quality pulleys mounted on sealed bearings, not small emergency pulleys).

5 x metres of 5 mm Dyneema cord or 5 mm / 6 mm Mammut Pro cord (your 'Z' cord).

1 x rap ring (used to stop the system from falling apart).

1 x metre of 7 mm cord

1 x Petzl Basic or Croll (a Croll can do double duty for jugging free-hanging fixed lines).

1 x 10 mm alloy maillon (wrap some finger tape around the locking barrel to make it easier to unscrew).

1 x micro locker (main connector to the masterpoint).

1 x large HMS (Petzl William).

How to use

With the system set up, you (as in the diagram) clip the haul line into the Petzl Micro Traxion (this is the 'catch' that will be used to 'hold' the load each time you reset the pulley), then clip the Croll/Basic into the haul line (this is the 'grab' that will pull up the load, with the Traxion 'holding' it when its reset). Now attach yourself to the 'Z' cord with a Clove hitch directly to your belay loop (you will need to fine-tune this as you go). Press the Croll down on the haul line (take all the slack out of the system, as one inch will be magnified twice), and pull the 'Z' cord. The bags should rise easily (or more easily) with only half the force needed compared to a 1:1 system. Once the Croll has lifted the bag, pull the rope tight through the Traxion and pull down the cross to reset it.

Hauling point positioning

With no one to help you, it's vital that you always set up the most efficient pull possible when hauling, which means the rope goes as directly as possible from the pulley wheel to the load.  Any edge, feature or added friction will greatly increase your workload, further sapping your strength. When setting up a haul, always work out the position to reduce these factors, especially on walls with multiple belay positions (Camp 5 on the Nose, for example). A prime example of how you can reduce your workload is when hauling on ledges.  Usually, reaching a ledge is a great relief, and standing and hauling is always nice. The problem with this scenario is that the edge of the ledge will greatly add to the difficulty of hauling; in other words, the more acute the angle, the greater the resistance. To avoid this, consider extending the haul point over the edge of the ledge.   

Other Systems

- Speed hauling

I will include this technique for completeness, although I think it's too risky. The basic concept is to hang your haul bag, or a lighter secondary bag, from a fifi hook attached to a second haul line. When you get to the top, you clip this rope through your haulier and, rapping down your other haul line, you use your body weight to lift the bag and raise it to the belay as you go; the idea here is that you make use of your body weight. It doesn't take too much imagination to figure out this hazardous technique. The bag can (and has) fallen off the belay due to either being knocked off (by a rock fall or a jammed rope) or by gear failure (the fifi snapped!).  

If you want to play around with this technique, then here are a few pointers:

Use two fifi hooks taped together for strength (thread the lifting cord through both hooks), or use a karabiner with a pronounced hook design. Remove the gate and attach a webbing loop to lift it.

Learn to tie a slippery hitch knot, as this will reduce the chance of the bags going the distance if they do pop.

Only employ the system with the continuous loop method, as this means you won't have two haul lines clipped to you.

I don't like this system as much can go wrong; no one would dare haul their main bag like this, so why not just haul everything together and avoid the risk?

- Alpine-style hauling

With this method, you carry your load on your back; it's only handy for speed climbing when you're going for the top on capsule-style routes or have to ferry kit over ground that is impossible to haul over. The main thing to mention is that carrying a load on your back is tough and dangerous if the weight means you lose your style and rhythm, causing wear on the rope. I will keep this short, as most soloists will never need to carry anything on their back.

What kind of load? Anything that weighs anything will feel heavier and heavier as you climb, so keep it light. Ideally, I would only jug with a bag weighing 5 kg unless I was on very slabby ground; once you get on free-hanging ropes, you need to have nothing on your back.

Ideal terrain

The best terrain for carrying loads is slabby ground or off-vertical.  You need to weight your legs for it to be most effective, as once it tips to vertical, there is always too much strain on your upper body, which is knackering.

Set up

If you know you will have a section where you must rope climb with a bag on your back, then try and keep your haul bags medium-sized, as having a massive wheelie-bin-of-a-bag on your back is not good. Try and keep the load down, even if this means shuttling backwards and forwards, and try and have the bag close to your back, with the weight low.

As the ground gets steeper, you will feel the bag pulling you back. One way to reduce this and give you rest is to clip some long quickdraws through the shoulder straps and into your top jumar's daisy chain; this helps to keep the load close to the rope, as well as take the weight of the load itself if you sag down onto it.

- Russian style

Developed by the Russians for carrying loads on gnarly technical faces, this variation of the alpine style is used when you don't want to or simply can't haul. With this system, you attach the load to your belay loop and hang it down so it's below your feet (otherwise, your feet will tangle with it). This setup can be used with the Texas-style ascender system (two-handled ascenders) but works better with the Frog setup (one-handled ascender and a Croll); as with any system, it requires practice and strong legs!

Lazy haul

I've used this system quite a few times when I've been forced to climb a fixed rope while carrying something (a small haul bag, for example) rather than hauling, and it works well on free-hanging ropes. Attach your ascenders as you would normally and tie them to the rope's end. In the loop of rope between your ascenders and the knot at your harness, you attach your load via a locking pulley (such as Petzl Micro Traxion). As you climb the rope, the loop will travel up with you, and as it does, the load will come tight on it. All you need to do is keep pulling up the load as you go (in effect, you have a 1:1 pulley system beneath you). This system can work well when topping out on steep slabby ground, even with heavy loads.

- Walking the dog haul

If you have to climb a fixed rope and can't haul or don't want to use any of the above systems (the lazy haul won't work on a fixed rope as you can't tie into the end), then you can use the dog-walking method. Attach the load to the rope with a locking pulley and attach a long sling or untied cordelette to it, creating a leash. Pull up the load and let it hang on the fixed rope each time you climb, and the leash goes tight. Climb on and repeat. This method can be very effective, but it's best to keep the load light

Bivvys

Solo bivvys on a wall are pretty much the same as with partners - a chance to recharge your batteries at one of the best camping spots on the planet.  Nevertheless, there are a few things worth thinking about.

Stuff sacks

Being organised is always vital on any wall, but when you're alone, doubly.   Having loads of heavy-weight stuff sacks (not light-weight sleeping bag ones) with full-strength clip loops is vital on a wall if you're not going to lose stuff. Ensure they are different colours and types (Fish, Metolius, Alpkit, etc). Keep food in one, personal kit in another and your sleeping bag and sleep stuff in a third. Try and avoid having loose items in your bag and use a grab bag in the top (this can be attached to the lid of the haul bag) with things such as food, sunblock, water (a few .5 litre bottles take up less space than a big 3 litre one), head torch etc. Everything in bags (apart from water) makes it much safer to unpack on hanging belays, ledges and portaledges. Keep all clothes and sleeping kit in a secondary waterproof stuff sack within the heavy-duty one and never trust crappy plastic loops sewn onto flimsy webbing on stuff sacks; they do break!

Tethers

If you're going to hang anything from your haul bag, such as a portaledge bag, secondary bags, poo tube etc, then employing a cord tether makes things much safer. These strands of cord (7 mm works well) are attached to the bags, either tied directly or clipped to their suspension karabiners. They eliminate the risk of dropping the item when pulling up from below (they have different colours for easy identification).  Simply unclip the item when hanging under the bag, then pull it up once you return to the belay.

Portaledge

Make sure you can put your ledge and fly up by yourself, not just in the garden, but hanging in your harness.  Some popular ledges are tough to assemble (even with a partner), especially if you use a double ledge alone.  Fly sheets that are said to be cut to fit the ledge often feel too small, and you may be forced to apply a huge amount of force to get it to fit.  The best ledges for solo climbing are those made by Fish; they also tend to be the lightest, cheapest and most compact.

Packing the ledge

Pack your portaledge with a daisy chain lark's-footed into the main suspension point so you can easily adjust the height when hanging up at night. Clip in a locking karabiner and leave it attached also, so you're not scrabbling around for one in the dark. You can also clip this daisy chain to you, as this will reduce the chance of you dropping it; plus, having the ledge hanging from the end of the daisy chain makes it easier and safer to put up.  Avoid putting your fly on the outside of your haul bag as it will get damaged, and if it has a tent pole, then tape a clip loop to it and stow it somewhere safe, ideally in a pocket inside the ledge's hauling bag (if it's loose inside, you have a good chance of losing it when you pull out the ledge).

Custom ledge bag

No one makes the ideal haul bag for a ledge and fly, but you can easily pick one up using heavy-weight Cordura from an outdoor fabric supplier (such as Point North in the UK); this is a two-ended tube-style bag, about 20% bigger than an off-the-shelf model, and designed to store both the ledge and the fly in one bag. The design is much easier to use by a solo climber and provides significantly more safety due to faster reaction time in a storm. The bag holds the ledge already attached to the flysheet (use an alloy maillon taped closed), with the ledge extracted from the bottom of the bag, not the top (the bag always stays clipped to the suspension). Just pull out the ledge and leave the fly inside the bag (use the bag's bottom cord to secure the bag in place).  

To stow the bag away, take the ledge apart, pull up all the parts together, and then slip the bag back down over the whole assembly. Having a loop (30 cm) of medium-weight bungee with a light accessory karabiner attached to one corner of your ledge can be handy, as once pulled together, you can wrap this around everything and clip the loop back into itself, keeping the ledge together as you pull down the bag and secure it.  

Getting down from the top of any wall can be one of the most complex parts of a solo ascent; this is where fitness, planning and patience can pay dividends. It is also one of the more dangerous paths a solo climber must traverse, so always factor the descent into your planning, giving yourself the time and resources to carry it out.

Looking after No.1

The primary use for your first aid kit is for patching yourself up so you can keep going while your ability to deal with a significant trauma will be limited. In most cases, if something serious happens, you must reach a point where you can stabilise yourself and wait for rescue. Your ability to deal with a significant incident in a remote wilderness situation is of the utmost importance; failing to manage this could be a death sentence unless you can get the word out for a rescue to come to your aid; this is one reason why soloing walls in Yosemite or the Alps is a good idea, as there is always someone looking out for you, and rescue can be very swift indeed. Robert Steiner had one of his fingers cut off in a fall on the Sea of Dreams on El Cap, but managed to get himself down and to a hospital; a broken leg or arm would make retreat almost impossible on anything but the easiest of walls, while a fractured pelvis would make it impossible to get down.

First Aid Kit

The parts of you that will get the most hammered are your hands and fingers, followed by your feet, then your skin (either sunburn in the summer or frost-nip in the winter), so your first aid kit should reflect this.

- Hands

You must look after any cuts and abrasions on your hands, as infections will develop quickly on a wall, especially with a lot of human waste. Cover cuts with Strappel after cleaning them and replace the tape when it gets ratty. If you wear gloves, your hands should be fine (save for the odd hot spot). One reason I tend to wear full-length leather gloves is that it's the fingers that get the most wear and tear (remember that on a wall, you're doing way more than three times the work, so your hands must absorb three times more punishment).

It's always worth carrying a little tube of hand cleaner to use at the end of the day before eating, or after having a crap, plus some hand cream to stop them cracking (Vitamin E balms designed for bouldering work well, as they can be bought in tiny pots, otherwise Nivea works fine).

So look after your hands!

- Feet

Your feet can get really hammered if you have soft shoes, leaving both your toes and arches (where your aiders run around your foot) in agony. There is not much you can do about this once you're on the wall, and it can only be avoided by wearing stiff boots with plenty of room for your toes. Wearing sweaty boots for days can lead to athlete's foot, so it's vital to wear clean, dry socks while aiming to keep your feet dry. Use talc or fungal powder with a wet wipe at night after cleaning. Tea tree oil works well on the feet and other cuts in general. If your skin begins to wear like your fingers, tape up the area.

- Basic extras

Beyond these items, it's worth having some of the following first aid essentials: paracetamol and ibuprofen (take both for severe pain); co-codamol (be aware this will make you tired and affect your ability to deal with problems if you're already wasted); safety pins, scalpel and a paper-clip (if you smash your finger and get blood under the nail, which is agony, you heat end of the paper-clip and pierce your nail to release the pressure); iodine and some dressings, as well as the usual stuff you tend to get in a first aid kit. Keep in mind, Dioralyte is an absolute must on hot walls like El Cap.

Oh shit! first aid

If you're in a wilderness setting or on a wall that's hard to rescue from, a major accident will leave your life in the hands of the gods, but even then, there may be some things you can do to give them (and your rescuers) some extra time to save your ass; this can be split into injury stabilisation and pain management. A good clotting agent such as Quikclot, plus several large dressings and bandages, could help reduce blood loss, and other items, such as a sleeping mat and gaffer tape, will do the rest. For pain relief, you should not take anything super strong as you need to be able to deal with the situation, but in a wilderness situation you should have super strong pain medication at your base camp, as you may be forced to wait a long time for a rescue; in the short term, adrenaline should see you through.

Serious injury

The German soloist Robert Steiner lost a finger while trying to solo The Sea of Dreams on El Cap but managed to get down and to a hospital. If you break a leg, hip or arm, you will be rendered helpless and your life will probably depend on getting rescued, so some form of communication is vital. These injuries may spoil your day, but unseen injuries can be more deadly, with blunt trauma to the body resulting in internal bleeding, a real killer.

Insurance

Perhaps the most important part of your emergency kit is your rescue insurance, as just about every wall you'd want to solo lies in an area where you'll be charged for a rescue. In some places, charging depends on whether the rescuers feel you were ill-prepared, foolhardy or negligent, so make sure you're none of the above and have insurance as a backup. On any wall, make sure you have all your documents, passports, and credit cards so they can be easily grabbed in a rescue (many teams will not risk their lives to rescue your kit). If you find yourself in the hospital without an ID or a credit card, there is a chance they may let you die (I know of someone who was refused a rescue helicopter unless he could produce a credit card). For an example of costs, I talked to someone who rescued one pitch up El Cap. The rescue team carried him on a stretcher no more than 500 metres to a helicopter for a ride to hospital. He was fine in the end, but his final bill was $19,000 (enough to bankrupt him).

Beyond the initial rescue, the costs come from hospital bills and repatriation. You do not want to find yourself without insurance in these situations unless you're planning on just dragging your broken body onto a plane to get home (this happens … one partner I had broke her leg once and waited a week until she flew home to get it sorted!).

When buying insurance, make sure you're clear on what you're doing and get written confirmation they understand you're soloing, as any policy is void if you're not covered in the small print. The best insurance schemes seem to be provided by the British Mountaineering Council, The American Alpine Club and The French Alpine Club. Pay close attention to how much coverage you get on medical bills, as some only cover rescue. A case in point of cheap insurance is that of the Austrian Alpine Club (a cheap provider that all skinflint climbers recommend). Some friends of mine had one of their team die on an expedition and upon ringing the emergency number for the Austrian Alpine Club on their satellite phone, they could only reach someone who spoke no English!

Rescue

If you're climbing in Yosemite or on a wall in a popular spot with plenty of traffic, people will notice if you get into trouble. A rescue team will generally make contact via a loudspeaker to check how you are. Then, if they decide you need rescuing, they will communicate how they will rescue you (most walls are too steep for long-line helicopter rescues, so a rescuer is usually lowered from the summit). Even so, you should always try and have someone on the ground looking out for you, someone who has an idea when you're meant to be getting off the wall. Leaving a card in your car or tent with a phone number, your name and the routes you plan on climbing (plus next of kin) can make things easier; you could even pop in and tell the mountain rescue guys what you're up to.

If you get into trouble on a wilderness wall, you're in the shit. Before committing to a wall, you need to ask yourself these questions:

Could I be rescued if I get into trouble?

Who would come to rescue me?

How could I tell them I need rescuing?

The only way you have a fighting chance (unless you're going to drag your broken body back to civilisation) is by way of an Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon (EPIRB) (there are many brands, with SPOT being the most common for outdoors pursuits) or a satellite phone. Nonetheless, even with these fancy gadgets, you need to understand that when you need rescuing, the weather or darkness will invariably be against you.

The bottom line is don't fall.

Descent and Retreat

This section covers standard non-too-overt technical descents, and any involving more complex ground (such as descending the route) will be covered in retreat.

Don’t rush it

When you are near the top of your route, all you can think about is getting down, dreaming of soft beds, hot food and showers (enough to overcome any cruxes you may encounter). The problem is that you always seem to end up topping out at around mid-afternoon or later than you think you will, and the descent becomes a crazy rush.  Remember that you will be more tired than you feel and that the descent, when tackled alone, will take much longer than you think. Add a huge load (usually split with a partner), and you will end up bushwhacking in the dark, wishing you were back on the wall.

My advice is to always bivvy at the top of the wall and give yourself a full day to descend. This way, you will have maximum daylight, enough time to pack your bags well for walking and be slightly more rested. If it's a blind descent and you have time, think about shuttling a load down a short way while doing a reconnaissance of the trail.

At the top of some walls, you may find wood, so it's always worth carrying a lighter and a knife to make a small fire (a light Silicone tarp is also nice to have). The one time you may need to rush down is if you're out of food or you feel you are in danger (perhaps you're soaked to the skin); in this case, it's best to take your survival kit (sleeping bag, bivvy bag, stove, food, mat, head torch, money, car keys etc), and get down as fast you can, coming back later for your kit. I once saw a crazy guy top out on the Nose after a stormy solo ascent; his only storm gear was a down jacket, footwear, and a pair of Teva sandals. He was so past it on the last pitch that, as soon as he reached the tree at the top, he just untied from the rope and walked away, leaving all his rack, haul bag and ropes behind!

How to get down? When planning a solo climb, make sure you have the descent wired, as at the end, you will have the least energy to deal with any unforeseen problems. Consider a recon of the descent beforehand, either walking up to the summit or climbing another route with a partner (or an easier route alone). The route down from El Cap is a great example that can seem simple when you've done it but impossibly complex when doing it in the dark for the first time, every cairn a false trail.

If you undertake a recon, scope out a good bivvy spot as close to the top as possible and consider leaving a cache of food and water if needed. If there are no cairns and you're in a remote location, consider making cairns on the way back down from the summit (you can topple them on your way down the final time); marking your route on a map is also a good idea.  

If your route ends at a trailhead but starts on the other side of the mountain, you might need to be creative with your transport, stashing a bike there to ride back to your car to pick up your gear. Taxis can be handy, but you will need a line of communication.

Splitting your load

Ropes, hardware, a portaledge and fly, you can be left with quite a load at the top of a wall, too much for one person to carry. Overload yourself with a giant haul bag and walk down slabs and talus, and you're asking for trouble. A better option is to split the load and either make two carries on alternative days or shuttle the bags down one after the other.  

If you split the load, bring all the items you may need down, including survival gear, in a wilderness area. Make sure you leave your other bag where it will be easy to find and be aware of it getting buried (use your portaledge fly pole or clip stick as a wand), blown away (tie it to something and cover it with rocks), or chewed by animals (stick it in a tree).

Don't make the load equal in weight if you're feeling tired, but instead carry a lighter load down; you can return for the heavier load once you've had a chance to recover. When splitting loads, I always make sure each one has a rope with it, as this can be used for rapping unforeseen drops or lowering the bags if problems occur.

If shuttling loads, make them equal weight, and try and keep the legs short (10 minutes down with one bag, leave it near a feature, walk back up and bring back the second one, passing the first for 10 minutes and repeat).

On some descents, I've done a mix of both retreat styles, shuttling the bags halfway down, then leaving one bag to get down in the light. I shall attest to how grateful you are the following day when you only have to walk halfway up!

Back the way you came

If the descent from a climb is complex or dangerous (perhaps it involves crevassed terrain) or is very long, it may be worth considering descending back down the route, especially if you have hefty bags. To do this, you are best off employing a capsule-style ascent, allowing you to fix up from a high camp, tag the top, and then retreat down the wall at your own pace; this, however, should not be seen as a soft option, as descending a wall alone is full of dangers and difficulties, such that it can only be tamed by care and patience.

Helping hands

Although the ideal is for you to climb and descend the wall alone, sometimes having a little help on the descent makes a big difference, especially if you've got an enormous load.  Faced with two carries out, simply someone meeting you at the top to help you is one of the most incredible things a friend can do. In some places, such as Yosemite, you can pay a 'porter' to meet you at the top, but it will cost you.

Retreat

Retreating from a wall solo must be one of the most complex and difficult operations any climber can undertake. On a steep or overhanging wall, getting down with a partner (never mind alone) can feel almost impossible, requiring down-aiding, bag lowering and total control of all your kit. Alone on the wall, these difficulties are compounded massively, and it's worth asking yourself if you could retreat from a wall with a partner before even considering retreating alone.

Do I stay or do I go?

Low down on a wall, when you know the ground is still close, it's easy to begin to think about how much you miss the good life back on the deck. So it's easy to bail (especially if you have an excuse like bad weather, flat batteries in your iPod, or you decide you've gone off the idea). If you feel your heart is not in it, and I would always leave my ropes fixed even if you have a genuine reason for bailing; this may be a pain, as you will have to come back up to get them, but you will be fresher and in better control of your senses. The bottom line is never to retreat in haste. The best option, unless it's a 'keeper', is to tie all your ropes together and try to fix them down to the ground so at least you are committed totally to giving up. A 60-metre lead, haul and zip line will get you a long way down any wall. You can rap with a bag (holding all your stuff), leaving your food and water on the wall. Once down, at least you can decide that you want in or return to retrieve the rest of your kit when things are less frantic. Of course, this also means you need to be able to pass knots and get back up the ropes, so don't leave your ascenders on the belay!

Higher on the wall, you must understand just how hard and exposed a retreat will be (perhaps it takes a descent to understand how hard a descent will be). Getting you and your kit down a wall takes a lot of skill and hard work, often requiring you to rap, rope climb multiple pitches and down-aiding. Usually, it's best to take a rest day to consider your options before committing (a day off will often make things feel better).

Abseil device? A GriGri is okay with light loads but only works on single ropes and can be hard to use with heavy loads. A belay device with the rope running over two lockers gives good control and heat dissipation as the weight increases.

Solo retreat

Getting off a wall alone will take patience, energy and a well-thought-out strategy. I used the following technique when descending alone from the Troll Wall, along with a ton of baggage.

First, rationalise all your gear, disposing of everything that is not necessary. On the Troll Wall, I used a small parachute to throw off all my non-life-support gear, but this can be risky if you end up not getting down (at least one soloist has died of hypothermia on El Cap while trying to retreat).

If the wall is vertical or, better still, slabby, then you can clip your haul bag to your daisy chain (clip your belay device in the middle so you are hanging off one end of the daisy chain with the bag on the other). Using a friction hitch as a backup, you should be able to descend the wall; be warned, trying to swing or pendulum with a haul bag attached to you is tough!

Down fixing

If the wall has traverses or is overhanging, you'll likely have to down-fix. To do this, you feed your ropes as usual for rapping but tie them off to allow you to climb the rope back up once the rope is fixed. Now you go down the rope carrying your rack (remember your ascenders!), swinging in and clipping the rope above you into gear to get you to the belay. The trick on such descents is never to allow yourself to get so far away from the wall that you cannot get back. To keep in contact, keep kicking in and out, and be very proactive about clipping the rope in. If you go too far and lose contact, you must jug back away and start again. If you rap with a GriGri, you can attach an ascender, foot-loop, and rope climb back up.

Once you reach the belay, you should fix both rope ends (you can leave the rack here) and ascend back up the ropes, taking the gear out so that the rope runs free from the belay to the belay. Now you untie the knots and rap with the bag(s), attach them to the belay and pull the ropes.

Super heavy bags

If you have multiple bags and they are cumbersome, then you may want to have a docking cord on them, tying them on with a tied-off Munter hitch when you reach the next belay. When you leave, set up to rap, then untie the Munter and lower bags until they are hanging from your daisy chain/belay device, and go.

Monster Munter lower

If you have multiple ropes and want to get down to the ground as fast as possible, you can lower your bags down and then come back later to clean the ropes without having to deal with the bags. It would be best to have a very large HMS karabiner and enough ropes to get down (of course!). Tie all your ropes together with an overhand knot (leave 6 inches of tail), and lower the bags using a monster Munter hitch (a Munter hitch tied twice). As the knot gets close, you can feed it through the Munter, allowing you to pass it easily (some force is needed with fingers, make sure they don't get trapped!).

Once the bag is down, rap the rope.

Retrievable monster Munter lower

This is a variation of the fifi death hook retrievable abseil, only this time, it's used to lower your bags and then get the rope end back (hopefully).  It would help if you had a fifi hook and some bungee cord (you can extract some from a jacket in an emergency). Attach the bungee cord through the top hole in the fifi, then tie the fifi to the end of the rope with an overhand knot. Now tie the other end of the bungee to the rope with a friction hitch knot; this will be the end you lower. Set up the monster Munter and hook your haul bag onto the inverted fifi hook, then pull the bungee loop tight via the bungee. You can now lower the bag as before, passing the knots. When the bag reaches the floor, the weight will come off the fifi, and the bungee will flick it off, allowing you to retrieve the rope end and rap. If the bag does not release, then you rap the line as before.

Throwing the bags

It's illegal to throw bags in Yosemite, plus it's downright dangerous on any busy wall (but at the cost of destroying or losing all your kit, it's a great way to speed things up on an alpine or wilderness wall!).

You can either toss the bags without any form of deceleration or use a parachute. With either option, you should do the following to have a chance of saving your bag:

Leave the bag lid undone so air is forced out. Shut it, and the bag will explode!

Tie everything inside together so that if the bag blows on the way down, everything will stay together as it falls down the wall.

Place plastic bottles with their lids slightly twisted on in the bottom of the bag.

Next, place the soft objects, such as flysheets and spare clothes, as they will absorb the force.

Lastly, place the heavier objects, but be aware that anything heavy may damage what lies underneath when it hits the ground.

Don't throw anything that could be damaged, such as a portaledge, cams or anything you'd prefer not to get lost or broken into a thousand pieces (a Russian team threw off a haul bag that held all their film from Trango and it was never found).

If you go for a parachute, buy something that isn't too big, as you don't want it floating away; it's there to slow the bag down, meaning you want more of a drogue chute. You can buy these as military surplus or make your own (a good source of info, or for drogues themselves, is hobby rocket websites or companies such as www.the-rocketman.com).

03:Beyond the Wall

ALPINE WALLS

Moving your soloing from safe, sunny walls to more alpine environments adds a great deal of complexity, difficulty and danger to the alpine game, and soloing such walls as challenging routes on the Jorasses, Eiger, and Matterhorn requires the highest level of skill (plus elephant-sized balls!).

Changing the game

On an alpine wall, you tend to have a different steep overhanging ground than you might encounter on non-alpine walls, requiring a higher level of skill at free climbing while self-belaying, making hauling more complex. You must carry more equipment, including winter clothing and mixed climbing gear. Luckily, the weight carried is often lower than on a wall, as little or no water is needed because snow can be melted. Weight is still an issue, however, as you may be forced to carry or ferry bags over low-angled terrain, so splitting your kit over a few medium bags works best (two 60-litre haul bags, for example). The time spent on alpine walls will invariably be shorter than on a normal big wall; speed is vital to climb between bad weather. I recommend learning to speed solo before embarking on any big alpine solos. The exception would be the soloing of winter alpine walls, where you might need to spend a week or more grinding your way up the climb.

Dangers

Alpine walls add a great many environmental factors that can make things much dicier, with unpredictable ice and rock falls, as well as lightning to deal with. Loose rock is more dangerous when soloing as you will usually be climbing on a single rope, plus belays can prove much more time consuming to create. On the plus side, with a very long rope, you can often link many pitches on one, and if you're slick, it could be argued that you're safer.

Exposure on an alpine wall should always be considered, and having extra clothing, a belay jacket and spare mitts/gloves is a good idea. Always have a head torch somewhere close and have a strategy worked out for all eventualities: What if your lead rope gets chopped by a rock? What if you fall and break your ankle? What if you get 10 metres from the top and have to retreat?

The main thing to never forget is, although there is no shame in backing off, there is in dying!

If you can push through all the difficulties and apply your skills well, then soloing an alpine wall, or even simply attempting to solo one, can be immensely rewarding.

Capsule style

Soloing a wall beyond the safety of Yosemite Valley, where a rescue can arrive in an hour or so, you need to up your game when it comes to safety. On a remote wilderness or alpine wall, caught out in a storm, overtaken by night, or injured, you need a better system than the 'sport' system employed on El Cap. One of the best ways to increase your margin is to go capsule style, a method of tackling huge objectives employed by big wall teams on the hardest routes.  

With 'capsule style', you are fixing ropes from a camp, and when these ropes run out, or you hit a good camp, you move everything up and repeat until you hit the top. This system is slow and secure and allows the soloist to quickly rap down the fixed rope back to camp, so there is no having to haul, set up camp, etc. If a storm hits or you get injured, you can return to your ledge quickly.

Capsule-style skills can also be used on normal walls, like when you reach a good ledge and want to fix up for a day or two and return to the ledge at night. It's also good if you're facing a storm and want to play it safe, fixing up and leaving a camp fixed until you know you'll make it off the wall (getting caught in a storm when your life support is a pitch below, all in haul bags, can be dangerous).

- Capsule basics

The gear you take on a capsule ascent is the same as any other, except ropes. On capsule-style routes I've climbed in the past, I've taken two 60-metre lead ropes (10.5 mm) and two 9 mm static ropes for fixing and hauling. Two lead ropes are taken because your ropes can be more exposed to rock falls and wear on an alpine wall, so having a spare is a good idea. Thicker static ropes would be nicer, but if you carry them to the wall by yourself, the difference between a 9 mm and 10 mm static is considerable.  A 9 mm static rope might sound skinny, but you can look after such ropes when you're ready to solo a big alpine wall.

As you climb, you fix these ropes up the wall (a 60-metre rope will usually span two or even three pitches), allowing you to push your rope four or five pitches above you before you're forced to move camps. Add your two lead ropes, and that's a long way up the wall!

When fixing these ropes, employ 're-belaying' techniques when you can, attaching the static line to gear with Alpine Butterfly knots to reduce wear (ideally, a fixed rope should not be loaded hard over any edges). You might also want to use edge protectors, though, in my experience, these are just a pain to use (the roller design that wraps around the rope is best if you do) and should be reserved for the sharpest edges.

- Moving camp

Moving camp, when you're soloing capsule style, can either be a doddle or a total pain in the arse, and there are two systems you can use once your camp is packed away (ideally in one large haul bag). You can haul them conventionally, which will require attaching your spare rope to the bags, rope climbing up and setting it up to haul from the top of the first static, then rapping down and releasing it (a lot of work), or you can use a much more accessible but potentially dicey method:

- Long haul method

With this method, you attach the end of the fixed line to the bags, then have the bags hanging from a fifi hook attached to the static (use a slippery hitch as a backup). Begin climbing the static ropes, taking out the re-belays until you are at the very top of your ropes (the very top of all fixed ropes). Now, you can begin to haul, and once the fifi lifts off the anchor, the bags will swing out, and you will be able to bring them to the belay in one long haul (passing the knot).

- Capsule dangers

When climbing in this style, you spend a great deal of time rope climbing up and rapping down your fixed ropes, so you need to be good with this and stick to sound systems at transitions; you must not get lazy. When you join ropes together, try to do so at solid belays and consistently, and I mean always, tie off any loose ends with a Figure 8 (tie ropes together by using an Alpine Butterfly knot with a 30 cm tail, then feed the other ropes through the knot to create one knot formed by two ropes, as this is easy to untie and gives you a knot to clip into when you pass it). Never leave a long tail on any joining ropes, as many people have been killed or injured by clipping this end instead of the actual rope by accident and rapping off it!

When fixing your camp, always try and find a sheltered spot; if there is any chance of loose rock (there is always loose rock!), then you need to keep your camp out of the firing line, or at least pull the ledge up and clip it flat to the wall when no one's home.

Speed Climbing

Solo speed climbing is perhaps one of the most difficult forms of climbing one could ever do, up there with winter Himalayan climbing in terms of seriousness. Roped soloing, by its very nature, is slow, while one-day ascents of walls require the ultimate in fitness, technical skill and strategy. Trying to combine the two (a solo one-day ascent) pushes every single facet of a climber to the very brink.

Why speed solo?

This is a good question to ask yourself, and as with a normal solo ascent, it will be one you will ask many times while trying to pull off such an ascent. Normally, roped solos of walls allow the soloist to take their time, free of partners and time constraints; speed soloing, in contrast, is climbing with the clock ticking. Worse than a ticking clock is the level of commitment required. You will be up on the wall, virtually naked, with very little food or water, perhaps totally committed, with no way but up.  

So what are the reasons for attempting such a thing? I find that sense of freedom, climbing with the bare minimum on some huge wall, super exciting and scary.  Approaching a wall like the Leaning Tower with just a 40-litre pack and a rope strapped to the top also makes a change! I like that I have to maintain the highest degree of concentration over such a long period, getting a thrill as I think about doing routes that may take a normal team three or four days and only taking one.

Soloing big walls will only feel right for a small percentage of climbers, perhaps as few as 5%, while speed-soloing will only appeal to 5% of those climbers. Many who try to do a speed ascent will give in within a pitch or so (seeing that the speed needed is just impossible), while some will get to the top, but not in a day. If you persevere and find something addictive in this style of soloing, then like soloing itself, there are great rewards to be had (as well as levels of fatigue, doubt and commitment, it's impossible to quantify unless you've been there, 24 hours in, awake for two days straight with four pitches to go).

The nature of speed

First, let's get something straight: solo speed ascents are not just about climbing a wall in a sub-24-hour time; this is the ideal (well, the ultimate is soloing two or three walls in 24 hours!), but really, it is the act of soloing a wall as quickly as possible, which generally means climbing from the bottom to the top without stopping (a push ascent). With any solo speed ascent, you should ignore any thoughts of being the fastest or breaking records; focus on doing it as safely as possible. It's good to know how fast or slow you've been, however, so try to keep tabs on start and finish times (people are often so wasted they neglect to see when they top out).

Strategy and tactics

- What route?

You first need to pick a route that will work for a speed ascent, probably one with very few parties to pass and one that you've climbed several times before; this is one aspect of speed climbing people don't realise, in that, it's rare for any speed climb to be on-sight, with some impressive teams having climbed the route ten times or more. If you want to speed solo a route like the Nose, you'll probably want to have climbed it over a few days beforehand, then half a dozen one-day ascents, getting the time down to sub-10 hours. I know that this may sound a little like loading the dice in your favour, but I can't stress how tough it will be to solo these routes in a day even with this knowledge.

The home of big walls speed soloing is Yosemite, where the close nature of so many good climbers, easy access, and a considerable level of knowledge and traffic means that competition leads to innovation. As soon as the Nose was climbed in a day by Bridwell, Long and Westbay, it was only a matter of time before someone soloed it in a day (Steve Schneider in 1989). Yosemite remains the place to practise speed soloing to hone your skills before taking them to other areas.

Timing

One of the most critical aspects of strategy is when you start, as this will significantly impact your psyche and fatigue. Here are a few ideas:

- Pre-sunset

With this, you begin before it gets dark, usually as soon as the sun leaves the wall, around 19:00. You then climb through the night and into the next day, the goal to summit before the sun sets again.

Pros

By starting in the dark, you eventually climb into the light, which tends to be much easier on your psyche than in the morning, with darkness hitting you halfway through your speed ascent (darkness + maximum fatigue vs. daylight + maximum fatigue). Also, climbing in the dark at the bottom of the route reduces the amount of water you need, as the bottom of the wall is the hottest part, and you will get high before the sun appears.

Cons

The worst part about this timing is that you've invariably been awake all day (if you wake up at 07:00, begin climbing at 19:00, and top out 24 hours later, you'll have been awake for around 36 hours). What if you miss the top in 24 hours? When I first tried to solo Zodiac in a day, I ended up taking over 30 hours to solo the route; by the time I got to the top, I'd been awake for over 40 hours, which is not good when you're trying to keep your mind focused on climbing.

- Alpine start

This is the classic start for most long days, kicking off between 03:00 and 04:00, allowing you to get some sleep before you start (an early night means you can easily get six good hours). For a 24-hour ascent, you will climb into the night, and your ability not to wilt will only come from experience (the more speed ascents you do, the better you can cope with a lack of sleep and the effects of the night). It's worth trying to make your sleep before the climb as good as possible. Lying on the ground with a scrap of mat under your bum and a shell thrown over you is not conducive to either sleep or rest (you often end up just getting up and starting at 01:00 or bailing before you even begin). Take a good mat, sleeping bag, earplugs, food and brew stuff (you can leave these at the base) for the highest chance of rest before starting.

Pros

You get a night of sleep, so start fresh.

Cons

You will climb in the dark at the end of the day when you're most tired.

Whatever style you use, ensure you are 100% rested before you begin.

What rack to take?

On a speed ascent, you need to strip everything down to the basics, ideally having only the pieces you need for the route, every cam, nut and quickdraw there on your rack for a reason. By pre-climbing routes, you can note what gear you use and then make a rack based on that accent (it's worth taking a notebook and pen to write down the gear you used on each pitch). You should already have experience in speed climbing with partners, so you will know that back cleaning is a vital part of the speed game, meaning you can further reduce your rack. On most speed climbs, I make up two-speed rack loops that live on my aiders for the whole route, comprising one rivet hanger, one cam hook, one hook and green, yellow and red aliens (tied to a loop of 7 mm cord), allowing me to jug up cracks, leaving only gear as protection as I go (again kept to a minimum).

What extra kit to take? Although you're trying to keep everything down in weight, there are a few things you need to take:

- Pack/haul bag

You will need somewhere to store all your kit (unless you're going super fast), and a medium-sized pack or haul bag works best. Try to get something you can jug with on your back and haul, and attach a clip-off leash and fifi hook to it so you can quickly set it up for hauling.

- Head torches

Light is something you need on a speed ascent, and as head torches can get broken or fall off helmets, always carry a spare with free batteries and fresh batteries for the main head torch (gaffer tape them together in the correct orientation so you can plug them into your head torch). If your climb necessitates free climbing in the dark, sticking two small head torches on your ankles (something like a Petzl Tikka) makes it easier to see what you're standing on.

- Warm clothing

If you're night climbing, you need something warm to wear (it can get freezing even on a wall, even in the summer). A light, hooded, synthetic top works well, as it packs down small, will work wet or dry and is windproof. Add a thin balaclava as well.

- Shell

You should have a very light shell and trousers (keep an eye on the forecast).

- Micro mat

A super thin mat (the type you find in backpacks) is worth having, as you can sleep on a ledge or at the top.

- Knife

Ropes get stuck and might need cutting, plus abseil tat could need cutting out of pegs, so a knife is an excellent thing to have.

- Lighter

When you top out, you may need to make a fire to stay warm, so having a small lighter is handy.

Food and water

You need to be well-fuelled before you start, so it's worth loading up on pasta the day before and being well-hydrated (taking a stove to the bottom allows you to eat some porridge and brew as you rack up). On the climb, ideally, you should eat something before each pitch (such as a power gel or a quarter of a power bar), maintaining fluid intake as you go. Often, when you're climbing fast, you can ignore eating and drinking, then suddenly, you bonk (generally high on the wall, when you don't want to be bonking), so try to keep taking on food and water regularly. I also take some real food with me, like a big sandwich, which I'll eat at designated spots such as good ledges, allowing me to take stock.

- Water

This is the killer. Water is heavy and will slow you down; you'll soon fade without it. Starting at night reduces the need for water, but once the sun shines, you will wilt without it (it's vital to stay covered up, plus wear light clothing). Having 3 litres per day is the norm for a wall, but seeing as you'll be climbing for longer, I'd say 6 litres is the minimum for a speed ascent; this will add quite a bit of weight to your pack or haul bag, but I think this weight will translate into more efficient (and safer) climbing. In the past, I've always used a bladder when climbing, but those extra kilos on my back were probably not worth the luxury of sipping every few minutes, so I've gone back to having the water in bottles at the belay.

One small tip is to avoid drinking every drop of water and always have at least one mouthful left when you reach the top. Once that last drop has gone, your thirst will be twice as bad as just knowing it's still in your bottle.

Don't forget to take plenty of energy powder and electrolytes as well.

- Stashing water

One aspect of speed climbing never discussed is the water stashed on walls before the event.  It's not uncommon to come across bottles hidden in cracks or on ledges with labels asking for the water not to be drunk until after X date. Having 3 litres of water stashed three-quarters of the way up a wall gives you something to aim for, but in my mind, it's cheating and undermines what you're trying to do (to be independent and alone on a big wall).  Also, what happens if you just set off with 1 litre in your bladder pack and get to your stash point only to find that the water has gone?

Micro naps

Sleeping on a speed ascent may sound counterproductive, but if you're done in, then it may be a necessity. Taking a 15-minute sleep every 4 hours will improve your ability to operate while still climbing (this is based on studies of soldiers in combat who may be forced to fight without sleep for days on end). If you have a sleep, then don't go over 15–30 minutes, as you will go into REM sleep and feel dreadful when you wake up. If you're exhausted, then sleeping may become involuntary (I've experienced many bouts of micro napping when you wake up and realise that you were asleep, which is a bit scary when you're on a wall all alone!).

Passing parties

If you reach a party on a wall and are alone, you can't wait for them to finish as they'll probably be up there for days! You should try to communicate with them before you reach them and tell them what you're doing (they may hold off leading the next pitch). If the leader is already halfway up the next pitch, you can either Begin climbing up and pass them on the pitch (not ideal). Ask if you can jug the haul line when the leader reaches the belay (it spoils your solo ascent but is fast and gets you past them). Solo the pitch on the gear already there (you use it as fixed gear). The idea is to get the route without any parties on it or time it so that the parties are all in bed (waking people up at 03:00 is always a bit tricky, but then it's a big wall, and that's the kind of crazy stuff you sign up for).

Rope or ropes

On a speed ascent, you need to use a long, light, single rope (anything from a 9 mm to 10 mm single, with a 70 or 80-metre rope being ideal). A long rope will allow you to string two or even three pitches together (remember that when rope soloing, you have no rope drag). Setting up belays and cleaning takes time, so removing several belays on a route saves a lot of time. On my first go at soloing the Leaning Tower in a day, I free-aid soloed up the first set of bolts (free-aid soloing is soloing without a rope, just trusting the gear) and then managed to link four pitches with one 80-metre rope (only just), saving a huge amount of time.

Another factor to consider is: do you bring a second rope? A second rope can be used both for rapping down from the belay to clean the pitch and haul (as in the normal solo technique) as well as retreating (an 80-metre rope is usually long enough to double up on most classic walls, as pitches tend to be short). The downside is that another rope is another rope and adds more work to the climbing. If you can carry your bag on your back when cleaning, you save time in hauling, and if you can rappel down the lead rope, you won't need that second one. The problem, however, is that rapping a lead rope on a steep wall can be tricky, especially if the pitch traverses (again, it comes down to knowing the route).

Speed Techniques

A lot of speed climbing relies on the same techniques used in a normal ascent, but below are a couple of techniques that are handy to know.

- Free-aid solo

This technique is ropeless aid soloing, just trusting the gear you're on (which is invariably a single cam or bolt), and it has been used a lot for speed soloing walls that feature long sections of uniform cracks (such as the Nose). To utilise this technique, you should attach the gear directly to your daisy chain via a locker; you must be 100% sure it's solid (both the gear and the rock) before taking out the last piece. You can increase your safety using a third daisy chain, so you always have two pieces in. Whatever system you use, it comes down to experience, as an experienced climber knows that a well-placed cam is pretty much as good as a belay (when you're 500 metres up on a wall, you may think differently).

When free-aid soloing, you need to do something with your rope, so you can either stick it on your back or trail it (clip into it at the halfway mark, so you don't have a huge strand hanging down). If you're using a haul bag or pack, this can be attached to the rope's end and hung from an attached fifi hook. Upon reaching the belay, you can pull up the pack via the fifi.

- Death loop

The death loop is a high-risk technique used to avoid having to rap and clean a pitch, but at the expense of any real degree of safety. The best way to imagine this system is as a reversed retrievable rap. Instead of going down and pulling your ropes, you are going to be going up and pulling your ropes.

To do a death loop, the climber:

Places a leaver karabiner on one bolt, either a locker, maillon or taped-shut non-locker.

They then pass one end of the rope through the anchor karabiner and tie this into their harness.  

Once on the other side of the rope, they attach their self-belay device (Silent Partner/GriGri) and clip this to their harness.

They now tie a backup knot several metres along the rope.

The rest of the rope will need to hang in space (for this reason, the death loop works best with skinny ropes), lay on a ledge, or be carried by the leader in a bag.

The leader begins to climb, and their formed loop grows. If they only have a single 60-metre rope, it will all be used up at 30 metres (for full-length pitches, climbers may tie two 60-metre ropes together).

The soloist can climb without any gear at all depending on their ability not to fall, or they can place gear or clip fixed gear, but this will need to be left behind (you will only be able to clip one or two pieces like this per pitch).

Once the soloist has reached the belay or where they wish to retrieve their rope (you may want to set up a new belay mid-pitch from a bolt), they untie the end attached to their harness and pull it through (as you would if you were abseiling).

And so they can get some safely without losing time rapping down and cleaning.

The potential forces created in a fall onto your belay device could be way beyond what would be healthy, so this should be considered a high-risk system.

- Super death loop

An alternative to the death loop is the 'super death loop', which is only one step up from free-aid soloing. With this system, you would not place/clip any gear on the pitch but instead rely only on leapfrogging your gear without placing any protection (the same technique as free-aid soloing). The basic idea is the same as free-aid soloing except that you clip the rope at its middle mark to the belay bolt (clipping rather than threading saves time), then you either clip into both ends with two lockers into your harness and start climbing (so you have two 30 metre loops below you), or in short (say two 20 metre loops below you, plus two 10 metre rope ends). Removing the 'moving belay' component to reduce the hassle of snagging ropes, knots, etc (plus not placing gear) saves both time and the possibility of the rope hanging up when pulling through at the end of the pitch. The downside is potentially taking a 60-metre or even 120-metre (if using two ropes tied together) fall, and so this only really works on very steep routes; it is considered close to free soloing or base jumping without a chute!

You must consider the length of rope you have available when undertaking this technique, especially if using only one, as it must be twice as long as any pitch. Some climbers wanting to use the death loop and string pitches together will tie two 70-metre ropes together, but personally, adding a knot could be a bad idea, and I would opt for an extra-long skinny super-long rope (80 or 100 metres). Alternatively, don't be too greedy and climb pitch to pitch.

Cleaning pitches on a single rope

If you're speed climbing on a single rope, you must rap the rope back to the belay to clean. When leading, remember that you'll be coming back down the pitch, avoiding any acute angle changes in the rope, aiming instead to have the rope running as straight as possible. 60 cm and 120 cm slings can help reduce these acute deviations, and long quickdraws are recommended.  

Before you begin to rap, it's worth setting up a friction hitch on your belay device (a GriGri is better and highly recommended for cleaning such pitches), as well as maybe running the rope over two lockers (to give you more control on a skinny single rope). Have one daisy chain/aider to clip into the gear as you go down. Start rapping, and when you reach each piece of protection, switch it over to your descender device. If the angle gets steep, you cannot unclip the gear to pass the device, as it will be overloaded. Just clip in your aider and step into it, taking your weight off the rope, allowing you to pass the protection.  Now, re-weight the descender, unclip your aid, and continue. Unless it seems like an excellent idea, avoid cleaning gear on your way down, as it will invariably make it harder to jug up (especially on steep walls); plus, it just adds more unnecessary weight when jugging (having the rope running through gear reduces the edge abrasion on a skinny rope too). If you find yourself in space and unable to reach the gear, you may need to jug or pull yourself into the gear and, again, use your aider to pass it.

Retreating up or down?

You need to understand the climb and yourself when on a solo speed climb. Bonk or run out of steam/water 15 pitches up with the sun about to hit you, and you will be well and truly tired. Don't climb into such a predicament, as you will either end up having to be rescued or you will be so out of it you will probably kill yourself (once your water is gone, your difficulties/fatigue will increase by 50% each hour). Knowing well before you reach exhaustion that it's time to turn around should give you a greater chance of making it down safely. At the same time, perhaps you're so high you know that going up is the only option. In this case, plan an upward escape to give yourself the best chance of pulling it off. Can you hitch a ledge and get 15 minutes' sleep?  How about reducing your pace? As I've said, being alone in the dark, high on a wall, with only a scrap of food and a mouthful of water, is one of the most committing things you will ever do.

Getting to the top

When you get to the top of the wall, you will probably be more tired than you thought possible and instantly want to drop to the ground and sleep for a week.  Unless you can sleep for several hours, try to avoid sleeping more than 40 minutes; instead, have a micro nap, then start on down. Once down, be very careful if driving any distance!

The toll of a solo speed ascent on your body and mind is considerable, and it could take many weeks to get back to normal again (sometimes, the very idea of being up on a wall alone is repulsive). For this reason, you should plan your attempt carefully, as you only get one shot.

ENDNOTE

So you’ve come to the end of this book. How do you feel? Excited, maybe, perhaps the opposite, your dreams of soloing El Cap dashed by the reality of its seriousness and complexity. Maybe you had never considered this quest before, but now you do. My advice would be don’t rush into anything, let that dream simmer, let the good and the bad imaginings of how and what it could be stew. If you find your big wall daydreams growing, then go with it. Learn and practise the skills you’ll need, read other books, and immerse yourself in the lore and legend of soloing. And then perhaps one day you will find yourself waking to a full moon, shining down like the torch of a ranger, startling you, making you forget where you are. And then you’ll feel the space beneath you, your sore hands aching, the hard granite beneath your mat, and you’ll remember.

And you’ll never forget.

Appendix

04 PHOTOGRAPHY

I get asked often by people who see slideshows of solo climbs: "How did you take so many photos?" The answer is generally "with great difficulty", as soloing a wall is just about the toughest multi-tasking challenge a climber could ever do, and adding in the chore of documenting it is just one thing extra to think about. And yet, although taking photos or filming can feel like the last thing you want to do, you need to think of the future and make that effort. Having a record of what could be the greatest experience of your life will provide you with a way of revisiting your finest hour (finest week probably), and looking at what you did years later is like watching a total stranger doing something you'd never consider doing. Documenting it will allow you to write or talk about it and share the experience (people are fascinated by such journeys into the unknown parts of the human psyche).

The plan

Before you set out on your climb, spend a little while making a plan of what you would like to have 'in the can' at the end of your climb. You need to have a shopping list of shots, movies or audio written down in your notebook and a storyboard of images.

These lists should allow you to take your audience on a journey, from the very start of the climb, through the highs and lows, to the summit (or the not-summit, which in many ways is a greater story). Look at what others have done, what shots they got, how they talked about their climb, and see if they have a story with a start, middle and end.

Here is a suggested shot list sequence (try and get both stills and video, talking directly to the camera as you film):

Packing your bags

Your rack (what everything does)

Film yourself talking out the trip (include doubts and fears)

Arriving at the airport;Check in

On the plane

Travelling with bags

First site of the climb

First moves

First haul

First bivvy etc

The video diary doc

When ticking off your shot list, aim to produce a video diary of the trip. Do this by getting into a routine of filming yourself talking in the morning and night and when you feel you need to share something with others. This routine will help you produce a lot of exciting footage (you won't know its value until months or years later), but more importantly, in the short term, you may not feel quite so alone, as you will be speaking directly to your future self (as well as your audience).

Equipment

In the past, there was a tremendous amount of faff and expense with solo filming, using SLRs with infrared remotes and limited ability to get the correct shot (36 shots versus tens of thousands with a large capacity SD card). These days, we have small and medium compact cameras that can capture film and stills that fit in a pocket and can be fired with cheap remotes; then, there's God's gift to solo film-makers and photographers: the GoPro. An alternative to this would be to use a modern smartphone, which would allow you to do all these things and upload your media directly to websites (as long as you have phone coverage). In reality, most climbers will use a combination of all three to achieve a good mix of media and outcomes from it (YouTube/Vimeo videos, slideshows, magazine articles, etc).

On a typical solo climb, I will carry a small compact camera (generally Canon) with three batteries, carrying it in a case on my harness (I use as small a LowePro case as I can find and attach the camera to it with a 3 mm bungee; the case is always attached via its loop and backed up with a small karabiner clipped to a gear rack). When choosing a camera, get HD video, sound and some macro ability. I glue a small patch of pile on my camera's mic to add some wind-noise resistance.

The second camera I carry is a GoPro (I'm using a GoPro 3 at the moment) mounted on a medium-sized Gorillapod. I carry spare SD cards and batteries for this, as it's easy to forget them when filming, and I fill both a card and drain a battery. I use the open-backed case for my GoPro to get better sound quality. I also make a minor modification to the case by glueing on some Velcro to attach a small bottle top to stop the camera from switching on by accident (the number one reason for battery draining).

The Gorillapod is modified to be used on the wall by adding a clip-in loop made from a 2 mm cord that loops mid-way up one leg and then carries on and wraps around the tripod mount. The mount should be super-glued to the GoPro mount (you can remove the mount from the GoPro and slip on a different mount, but the tripod/GoPro mount is fixed). This clip-in loop works well as a lanyard for the camera (so it can't be lost) and as an attachment point for securing it to protection to get interesting shots. To use this feature, all you need to do is fix it to some protection, a belay or even your rope via a friction hitch, then down-climb a short way and get your shots.

The GoPro can be attached via your helmet or GoPro head strap; you can also add a mount to a Petzl head-torch strap to get double duty. These point-of-view shots can be good but, if overused, can prove very boring (the 'death by PowerPoint' of film-making). Mixing up the shots and using more direct-to-camera footage is better, with the odd POV shot thrown in here and there.

Another helpful accessory in the GoPro stick is either a GoPro model or a ski pole (the GoPro model is probably best, as it's set up already). With this and the camera set on a wide angle, you can get some great shots on a wall, but again, don't overdo it, as your final video will be dull (your audience will soon tyre of 'amazing' shots of you holding a stick over a significant drop).   One of the most effective uses of a GoPro for solo photography is the auto sequence shooting mode, where the camera takes a photo every few seconds; this works very well when hauling, leading, or sitting on a bivvy (in fact, anywhere you're doing something and want just to let the camera run). When using this feature, turn off the GoPro after a minute. Otherwise, you'll end up with several thousand shots (setting the GoPro to switch off automatically after four minutes is an excellent idea).

A great add-on for the GoPro is the Bluetooth remote; it not only allows you to switch the camera on or off from medium distances (and so gets shots of you on lead), but it also allows you to see what you're shooting via a smartphone running the GoPro app (something undreamed off only ten years ago).

If you plan on filming everything, consider using more than one GoPro, so you can leave them below filming, with spares ready to set up higher (filming on traverses always works well).

The basics

- Macro to micro

Many photographers and novice film-makers focus too much on the 'big picture', the nice views, the big drops, the action, and not so much on the tiny things that make up that world (the moss of a tree, worn fingertips, a battered cam lobe). Mixing the two, macro and micro, helps to create a fuller picture of the climb and the experience, and although it might be just me, I remember these small things more than the views.

- Capture the fundamentals

When filming your climb, imagine you need to provide footage to someone who's never climbed before to show them how each part of your solo is carried out. Take hauling, for example; you could just set up your GoPro and have 10 minutes of hauling, but that would be deadly dull. Instead, get 2 minutes of you hauling, then get some cutaways and close-ups of setting up the pulley, the rope running through the pulley, pulling the rope, and tying off the haul bag, etc Try an.d film one aspect well each day (bivvying, cleaning, hauling, leading, having a crap etc) so that when you add it to your diary footage, stills and other stuff, you'll have a complete picture.

- The BIG reveal

The' big reveal' is one type of shot that always works well in slideshows. You begin by focusing up close to something (a piece of protection, the belay, your face talking), then pan upwards to show where you need to get to, and then slowly pan back down to show the wall underneath; this will invariably get an "oooh!" out of the audience.

- People please

I often joke that climbing is like 'masturbation'; it's fun doing it, but people aren't that interested in hearing about it, and I stand by that. We'd soon get bored and switch off if it was just moving over stone. What keeps our attention is the personal journey, the struggle, the backstory, and how this person can keep going against the odds.  Focusing on the climbing, perhaps to show how hard it is, is a prevalent mistake in all climbing-related media, and it invariably falls flat. Fear or doubt is universal, and the size of the holds makes no difference. Instead of the grade, focus on the human story. Be bold and speak the truth about how you feel each day. Be honest, and people will understand you and follow your story.

- Social media

If Captain Scott or Roald Amundsen had had access to Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, they would have used these to their full potential. Still, only having pen and paper, they wrote diaries instead, their words ready to be shared via the social media of the 1900s (books and newspapers). Climbers in the twenty-first century can employ previously undreamt-of technology to fully document their whole climbing experience using nothing but their phone, capturing video, stills and audio, as well as stringing together old-school words to write a description of their experience, all of which can then be upload to social media sites or personal websites in an instant (well as long as you have a phone connection).

I've attempted to do this on several climbs, including tough alpine walls on the Eiger and Troll (where I took an iPad!) with varying degrees of success. On my near solo ascent of the Troll wall, I wrote and posted a blog every night (which was no mean feat), and although some people probably thought I was blowing my own trumpet, I found this aspect of the challenge as interesting as the climb.

A good smartphone should be able to do all you need in terms of a 'one-stop-shop' for a wall, and as discussed above, it could replace both your camera and GoPro, allowing you to upload content directly. In more remote areas, where it's hard to upload big files, then having some way of reducing image file sizes is vital. On the Troll Wall, I uploaded directly to my blog, but having someone at the end of an email to sort out your content could be easier.

When picking a smartphone, try to see which ones offer a case that will protect it and allow it to remain secure (some clip-in loop). Also, check out the availability of accessories such as a tripod mount and apps (photo editing, text editing, FTP and file shrinking) before buying. One big thing for me is battery power, and this is one thing where Samsung phones win over Apple, as iPhones have a fixed battery, while Samsung phones allow the battery to be switched out for a new one. If you're using a fixed-battery smartphone (or iPad), you must carry a separate battery/power source.

Troll Wall Diary

In early September of 2011 I packed up a lifetime’s worth of climbing equipment, piled it high inside my tired green van, said goodbye to my two children, and set off alone to drive over 1,000 km from the UK to Norway. I bought only one-way tickets as I boarded ferries and crossed toll bridges; I had no idea when I would be coming back, and had no intention of doing so until I had climbed the Troll Wall.

The Troll Wall is the highest big wall in Europe, higher even than Yosemite’s El Capitan. But unlike El Cap, bronzed and perfect in the Californian sun, the Troll is made from darker matter. I joke that I never believed in God until I saw El Capitan, but when I first trembled up through the forests and mists, rocks whizzing down from above, and touched the Troll, I knew there was a devil.

Three times before I had made the long journey north to the mystical Romsdal Valley to climb the Troll: in summer and in winter, alone and with a partner. Three times I had been given lessons in fear and doubt like no other, then sent away to dwell. The poet-climber Ed Drummond called the Troll “the altar” and said only those who had climbed it would understand.

But at the age of forty, I had put away all ideas of climbing the Troll. It was a thing for the younger, more foolish me, a climb I would point younger, more foolish climbers toward, or even boast about: “Ah, yes—I tried to climb the Troll Wall three times.”

Then it struck, as I sat at home looking at flights to America, dreaming of warm Yosemite rock, that it was not yet time to give up on the nightmare of the Troll.

And so I made plans to return that summer and attempt a route called Suser Gjennom Harryland, a 600-metre-high route named after a Swedish pop song. I also chose to blog every day, taking an iPad on the Wall. Perhaps, I thought, like a dieter who posts pictures of what he eats at every meal, that by sharing the experience I would gain some extra level of self-control, and lessen the weight of what I was about to do. Also, as a writer who had played about with Twitter, Facebook, and blogs on other climbs, I was fascinated by the rawness of what I had written on those trips—including some things I had never dared reread.

When you attempt to solo a route such as the Troll, you are very close to insanity— while at the same time possessing levels of self-discipline and awareness that are beyond anything you will experience anywhere else. You are hunting the lion. That’s why I find what I have written during my climbs so hard to revisit: This is not my voice, I think; this is the voice of someone unhinged. Plus, the writer in me hates how rough and unedited it all is, like something a 16-year-old would write. But these are also the unfiltered words of a man who is struggling, with taped-out out sore fingers and eyes dropping, relieved the day has ended and fearful of what the following will bring.

Although what follows might be the least polished prose in this collection, I suppose, in my defence as a writer, it is the purest form of mountain writing.

I’m back in the campsite feeling well and truly wrung out. Today I had to carry the first of two loads up to the base of the route. A total of about 100 kilos. The way up is always a nightmare due to the awful state of the loose screes. Carrying a 50-kilo haul bag up such terrain just sucks it out of you. What makes it worse is that since my last visit the path that normally leads along a river to the screes has become an obstacle course of fallen trees.

So just getting to the scree was like some sick assault course, climbing over trees, crawling under trees, bushwhacking, and generally getting my ass kicked.

From the base, the route looked wicked steep, with one really nasty-looking first pitch: muddy, slimy, and green.

I sorted out the gear. I knew I should lead the first pitch before going back to my camp. But as I procrastinated, the mist came down and it seemed like it was almost dark. Very spooky, and I took it as a sign to leave the first pitch till my next visit.

I always forget (or the memory is erased) how much backbreaking work is involved in a big wall solo, and that anything beyond El Cap, with its short and easy approach, is a lot of work. I guess with this sort of climb, it’s all about work, and the knowledge that you did everything yourself. My body already feels as if it’s had a right good kicking due to the number of talus tumbles I’ve had over the last two days (hands, knees, and elbows have had a real bashing).

Onwards!

14th September 2011

“The rain continued. It was a hard rain, a perpetual rain, a sweating and steaming rain; it was a mizzle, a downpour, a fountain, a whipping at the eyes, an undertow at the ankles; it was a rain to drown all rains and the memory of rains. It came by the pound and the ton, it hacked at the jungle and cut the trees like scissors and shaved the grass and tunnelled the soil and molted the bushes. It shrank men’s hands into the hands of wrinkled apes; it rained a solid glassy rain, and it never stopped.”

—“The Long Rain” by Ray Bradbury Yep—it’s raining in Romsdal.

17th September 2011

The weather cleared today and I finally made it up to the wall with the rest of my gear. I even had enough energy left to do the first pitch.

Think I’ll make this my last trip where I carry a 50-kilo haul bag up a never-ending scree slope.

First pitch (v) was a horrible slimy waterfall, and I ended up aiding half of it. Climbing above looks very steep and less wet.

I’m doing the route capsule-style (fixing some ropes from three camps) as this is much safer on such a nasty wall, and it allows me to zip back to my bivvy without getting caught out in a storm with no bivvy set up.

I’m sleeping under a slight overhang on the ground tonight, just under the wall, and have set up a tarp to keep the drips off, so pretty comfy. Tea was tomato soup with leftover bread dunked in. I’ve got ten days food with me, but I really hope the climb doesn’t take that long!

18th September 2011

Climbed two more pitches today—slow and careful (much of the rock is pretty fragile), a mixture of easy aid and free climbing, but all done with ice falling from the summit, dripping water, loose rock everywhere. I would not recommend this route (or the Troll Wall) to my worst enemy, but it’s not dull—I’ll give it that.

Being camped on the ground is so much more civilized. Rapping my ropes and getting back to my bivvy (climbing kit off, into sleeping bag, book and tea and chocolate) was almost worth it in itself. Maybe I should just go camping more often!

19th September 2011

Will keep this short as my back is killing me from carrying too much gear, plus my cup of tea is getting cold on the stove.

Had a bad night because the tarp was flapping, so I ended up having to get out of my sleeping bag to put it away. (Of course I only did that after having been kept awake for several hours trying to ignore it).

Today was my big day—the goal was to haul all my gear on the wall. But it didn’t quite turn out like that.

Hauled gear to the pitch 2 belay, then set off to climb the fifth pitch, which would put me on a sheltered bivvy. I spent all day climbing one bloody pitch —the last party to do it took ten days and I can see why. Ended up going off route (scary) and then finally got into the right groove system.

20th September 2011

Weather looked like it was taking a turn for the worse, and with my haul bags yet to make it to pitch 5 (my first wall bivvy), I’ve headed down off the mountain till Wednesday.

I’m set up in a little camping cabin with a bunk bed, kettle, and a table (even has a tablecloth)—and it feels like paradise. I was only camped out at the base of the wall for three nights, but it felt like a couple of weeks. The Troll is a strange place, where time and the intensity of most things is greatly magnified.

The best way to describe the experience is that it’s a bit like going into a war zone. At any moment something bad could happen, but like a good soldier, you make believe it won’t happen to you. Sleeping, climbing, just being there— you’re always somewhat on edge. There is always the danger of being hit by a “bullet,” a little stone tumbling down from the summit Trolls, not to mention the prospect of the BIG ONE, the nuclear option—a falling, hundred-metre pillar or flake that would probably get me with the impact blast alone.

But I’m a good soldier. I keep my helmet on tight and stay behind solid cover as much as possible.

I’m a little tired, and so coming down has been a good chance to rest battered hands, sore knees, and aching back, as well as get all those bits I forgot in the first place (watch, glasses cord, more pegs).

Also got to talk to the kids today. In a way I didn’t want to, as I knew they would undermine my resolve. But I did, and they didn’t.

21st September 2011

Been a very relaxing day—a bit too relaxing—spoiled by the fact the weather has been quite nice (think of a cold but clear autumnal day). Anyway, have spent the time well, sorting out gear and drying off my camping stuff that was festering in my car (although I am feeling a bit dizzy after gluing rubber dry suit cuffs into the sleeves of my jacket with seam grip). Last job was boiling all my eggs to take with me on the wall, so all very domesticated.

Cycled into the village to clear my head and bought a cup of tea (still have no idea about exchange rate, so it either cost 20 pence, £2 or £20). Åndalsnes has all the get-up-and-go of a Sunday in Cleethorpes, and seems to have closed down for the winter already. The number one fun activity is having a hot dog (they have three meat flavours) in the train station.

21st September 2011

Yesterday was by far the toughest day yet—and I came within a whisker of bailing—but now I’m lounging in my portaledge on the wall. I’m glad I didn’t quit.

What made yesterday so hard was the hauling. It’s always tough even when there are two of you, but alone it can turn into a real nightmare. The problem is that the terrain is very irregular, and every time the bag got stuck I’d have to rappel down and free it, then jug back and carry on. I seemed to spend all day jugging and rapping and hauling.

To make matters worse, just before I’d reached the ledge I watched a ship-container-sized block fall down the back of the Troll, 500 metres away. I heard it falling—imagine the sound of a small house tumbling half a mile—then saw the huge detonation as it hit the rock slabs. Very impressive, but it didn’t inspire confidence.

23rd September

A good day today: two pitches climbed, no rain, and I finished in the light.

Woke up feeling as only a big-wall soloist can (I’d forgotten this part), with throbbing hands, tired muscles, but knowing you have to get up and get moving anyway. When you’re soloing, if you’re not climbing, you’re not going anywhere. Had a nightmare that I was being crushed to death—which, considering yesterday’s traumas, doesn’t surprise me.

The first pitch should have been easy, but I found it all pretty scary, due both to the bad state of the fixed gear and because I’m still not very confident about the rock.

Next pitch began with something I hate, a traverse under a small roof. The weather had also turned cloudy, and the route went up another big wet slimy patch. I really wanted to call it a day, intimidated both by the climbing and the weather. In the end, I told myself to get a grip. And I did.

25th September 2011

As usual it’s been a long day on the Troll wall.

Had to haul my bag from pitch 5 to 10 allowing me to set up camp to climb the next eight pitches, and then descend.

Amazingly all the hauling went really easily, two 60-metre hauls, and a 30-metre one bypassing two belays.

The rock quality has suddenly improved dramatically, and is up to El Cap standard. Let’s hope it lasts. The bivvy spot is good (four good bolts).

Really look forward to the end of the day, when I can sit on the edge of the ledge, take off knee pads, Russian aiders, boots, waterproofs, harness leg loops—shedding each little piece makes me feel normal again. After that I stick on my parka and fleece trousers and get a brew on.

My daughter Ella emailed and texted today, asking how long I’m going to be away, and so I’m feeling the pressure to get home. I was meant to be away for three weeks. Another limiting factor is that I only have a small amount of water left, and I’m using two litres a day.

The effort to stay safe up here is all-consuming; it’s a relief to get back to the ledge at night and just let go of the paranoia that grips me every second when I’m leading. Only did two pitches today and don’t think I can move much faster while staying safe.

Six more pitches to go and I have three days’ worth of food and water left—so it could be close.

27 Th September 2011

Pulled out all stops today, alpine start in the dark, and climbed three pitches—including what was probably the crux.

The sound of the rain was amazing—the whole wall came alive with rushing water, and waterfalls, not to mention lots of rock fall. The mist also came in, and although it was very atmospheric (you could forget you were sky-walking 500 metres up), it also made the wall a lot spookier. Climbing up to the crux, the whole thing felt as if it could collapse at any moment. The rock became really strange—like alien, plastic rock.

The rain stopped by the time I got to the crux, which was only 15 metres. I’m glad it’s over.

The worst thing about climbing capsule-style is all the jugging and scary abseiling, with my two static ropes spidering up five pitches—most without touching anything. It’s funny, but after a while you can just switch off fear. You sort of say “Nah—can’t handle being scared right now—I’ll think about it later.”

Keep waking up with a mind full of thoughts and memories and ideas.

Highlight of the day was getting back to the ledge and crashing out and listening to Dylan’s Blood on the Tracks.

28th September 2011

Back in the ledge after a fraught descent. It took a brew, the rest of my chocolate, and the last of my couscous (plus a bit of Arcade Fire) to remove a mask-like grimace that had taken hold of my face all day. On reaching the ledge I was just utterly wasted—especially mentally.

Did I get to the top?

I free-climbed it up a pillar with good footholds and lots of loose flakes for hand-holds. I reached the top of the pillar, a little pedestal, expecting to find two bolts, like every other belay. Instead, all I found was a rusty wire clipped to a karabiner, sitting on the ledge. I stood there with the whole face below me and looked for a belay. There was nothing. Worse still, the climbing above didn’t look easy, so I thought I must be off route. I stood there and didn’t know what to do. The only thing I knew was that I wanted to get it over with, even if it meant climbing in the dark. I hadn’t spent ten days only to get up here and fail on the last pitch.

But where was the belay?

I climbed back down a bit and looked around some corners, feeling increasingly rattled; you can’t solo without a very good anchor. My options were to pull up my bag and try and create a belay with the gear at hand—which would take too long—or to just keep looking.

I climbed back up the pillar again, feeling very lonely, and sat on the top. Then I heard a voice.

As I’d been climbing up, my camera in my chest pocket kept switching on and off and beeping. I suddenly heard my son Ewen’s voice, and thought I was going mad until I realized it was coming from the camera. It was replaying some film I’d shot before leaving, footage of my son as he was emptying bottles of lemonade in our car park, and spraying it at my feet. What I heard was Ewen saying, “Dad—get away.”

Hearing his voice right then was pretty emotional.

It’s best to try and block out such thoughts, as it just makes you weak. For three weeks that’s what I had done. And it had worked. I was strong. But this morning I’d made the mistake of checking my emails and got this from Ella:

What day will you be home on?

Really Really Really Really missing you

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx xxxx love Ella

I switched off the camera. I climbed down again and looked at the same limited view.

Why did my camera play that clip just now? I wondered, looking for some guidance. Why now and never before on this trip? I took stock: I was wasted. Probably off route. Out of water. Out of food. Out of time. One more pitch hadn’t put me on the top— just one more pitch away from the ground. Why did I want more?

I knew I’d found what I was looking for, and started making my way down. No regrets.

Zodiac Push

I'm sitting in my usual spot in the Yosemite Lodge cafeteria, typing words with sausage fingers, my hips and feet aching with a dull throbbing pain, my head full of fog. I feel as if I've been run over or been cage fighting, and lost. On Friday at 7.30 pm, I started up Zodiac for my fifth time (the second time that week), with just three litres of water, a single rope, two sets of batteries for my head lamp and a minimalist rack; I don't think I've ever felt so committed in my life.

The first two pitches were climbed, rappelled, and cleaned in 90 minutes, and as the valley drew dark, I pressed on; climb as fast as I could, set up a belay, abseil back to my last belay, take the belay apart, grab my pack, jug up the rope cleaning gear and repeat.

When I got up that morning, I felt tired, still recovering from climbing El Cap in 19 hours two days before, and compounded by a week of disturbed sleep before that, so it was a bit of a surprise to me that I was trying to climb Zodiac in a day.

This dream of soloing El Cap in a day began to stutter around two in the morning, when I began to feel very tired and felt that agonizing desire that I'd give anything to just lay down and sleep. I was now at pitch six, and decided I should sleep for two hours to recharge my batteries. So I sat there, only a bum sized ledge, and fell into a half-sleep, but only for fifteen minutes. Then I woke as the moon came up. Sitting in the dark, alone on the moon shadow, I began to feel scared, like a free diver unsure if they had enough oxygen to make it to the surface. My mind was all doubt, such as if I was going too slow, if I had enough water, and after this pitch, I would find it almost impossible to get down with only one rope?

Then I imagined a crusty old hand on a ships tiller, immovable, and told myself to be calm and to get moving, as action is both the best way to dispel sleep, as well as fear. I arrived at the White Circle at dawn and started up Zodiacs crux pitches, which weren't too hard, but I felt I was slowing down. My mind seemed to drift, wasting precious seconds untangling slings or watching silverfish swarm on the wall. Again and again, I would snap and remind myself that I couldn't dawdle - I had to climb before my water ran out. My first big problem came when I had to abseil back down my lead rope on several of the traversing pitches, necessitating scary back cleaning on the way up and much jiggery-pokery on the way down. Again and again, I found myself spinning a long way off the deck, trying to get to a piece of gear to pass it. Each time I did this, I felt time slipping through my fingers.

At 7.30 pm, I was still four pitches from the top. I had been climbing non-stop for twenty four hours and awake for 36. I felt no surge of disappointment when I saw the time, as I'd known I couldn't make it for the last 7 hours. Now I just wanted out and entered the terrible space of the failed speed climber, who is forced to confront the wall with little food, water or energy as night comes on - only without the dream of success to power them. Crushed by ego. Crushed by failure. Crushed by the wall. Crushed by the night.

By now, my harness was doing me grievous damage, and my feet felt sore, and my hands ached from jumaring. Still, with nowhere to stand, I had to dig deep until I could reach Peanut Ledge, a surfboard-sized ledge for one, three pitches from the top.

It grew dark, and my pace slowed to survival mode, only focus, focus, focus.

I pulled onto the ledge around 10 pm. I sat there interminably, knowing I had to rap down and get my pack, but seemingly unable to move. I realized I was taking micro naps - a tiny bust of uncontrollable sleep. I knew I was in great danger if I didn't pay attention. Still, all I wanted to do was crawl up on the ledge and sleep, my mind trying to convince me to just have a sleep and recharge. I could rap down and get my stuff - a trick that would only lead to waking more hungry and thirsty and with lower energy. And yet still, I just sat there, my legs over the edge, trying to move but unable to do so.

I knew my mind had space free of tiredness in which I could operate. I visualized a citadel within it, an impregnable fortress in which my core function was safe from sleep - everything else; the darkness consumed memory, desire and dreams. This skeleton crew of still-firing neurons got moving. Down I went, got my stuff and jugged back, flaking out on the ledge as soon as I got there, my legs in my rope bag, a bothy bag my only insulation, so tired I slept still attached my jumars to the rope.

The sleep was cold and heavy, my mind signalling every time I came close to waking that "I'm on a tiny ledge on El Cap" and "Make sure you're still attached".

The moon came up, again, and so did the cramps.

I knew the top was only 3 pitches away, where stowed water bottles probably lay, but it could have been a million miles. I thought about my folly and that something was deeply wrong with me: to be unsatisfied with climbing this route in a day with partners - as if that was easy - and so I was trying the impossible. If I'd done this, then what would have been next?

I topped out at lunchtime, sat under a tree, and drank a big bottle of mystery water before I could find the energy to rap and jug one final time. It seemed it was cursed - never to just sit in the shade, always something to do.

I sat under the tree with my rucksack up, knowing I should get down to the valley. I fell in and out of sleep, feeling dejected and foolish to have tried such a thing. I tried to find some satisfaction in soloing a wall in 30 hours, which usually takes a party 4 or 5 days, but it was no good. I knew I'd simply deluded myself. Again.

Walking down was more challenging than usual, as I only wanted to lie and sleep. Still, I went until I reached my car and just sat in the drivers seat, door open, feeling empty (my emotions were primarily dictated by lack of sleep than anything). Then, out of nowhere, an old man appeared dressed as a scout leader. "Did you just climb El Cap, young man?" he said. "I think I recognize your rucksack; I watched you this morning with my binoculars". "Yes, I did", I replied sheepishly. "Well, well done, young man," he said, holding his hand. "That's a mighty impressive thing you've done," he said, smiling.

I sat back in my car and thought it disingenuous to feel anything but pride for oneself for climbing El Cap, a rock with no bad routes and or nasty climbs.

So I'm sat recovering in the cafeteria - my eyes heavy. I know when I stop hurting, I'll be stronger - and the lack of pain is just a sign that you're getting weak (wow, I sound like Mark Twight). I have enough time - and maybe enough energy - to try a sub-24-hour solo ascent of El Cap once last time on this trip - probably Lurking Fear, as I just can't bring myself to go on Zodiac again.

In the food queue a few minutes ago, I found myself behind two young black guys, one a minister and the other a soldier on leave. The soldier told the minister that he was going to Afghanistan in a week and that he was worried about it. The minister just looked at him and said, "I'm sure it will bring you closer to God".

Amen.

Sea of Dreams Solo

My last day, my first 'easy day', ended long, hard, and painful as I scraped and scrambled, tired and tangled, Silent Partner locking and rope running out onto the rim of El Cap. I had been alone on the wall for fourteen days, four of them on half-water rations and the scraps of my food bags. I staggered, stood, staggered again - pulling hard in the still heat of darting lizards and baking dwarf trees with charcoal bark - away from the edge until I was sure I was beyond gravity's high watermark - safe from the Sea. I stood there for several minutes, unsure what to do - how to feel, stand or sit, laugh or cry, my legs equally unsure how to address the flat world again. But then it's always like this. I know the feeling well; this was my fourth El Cap solo, my thirty-fourth route up the Captain. I knew how it felt at the end, the relief, the sadness, so desperate for it to be over for so long, yet wanting to hang on.

The Sea of Dreams is a route that still maintains a mystique and retains an A4+ grade ("if you fall, you die") even though it was put up in 1978. Time has undoubtedly mellowed the climb, with several well-known 'features' such as the 'surfboard' falling off it and some bolts and rivets being added. Nevertheless, it still deserves a Jim Bridwell grade of PDH (pretty damn hard) in most people's books.

Although an undoubted classic, the Sea is rarely climbed, with maybe one ascent every two years, with many stories of teams bailing off it, tales of loose and dangerous rock, run-outs, scary obligatory free climbing and inadequate belays (SOD is one of the few routes that has mostly old bolts still) and a whole host of horror stories. Robert Steiner, the German translator of Psychovertical, lost a finger on the route when a loose flake broke and chopped it off. No one I've ever met who had climbed the route had anything but respect for the first ascensionists, who had set out to create the world's longest, most challenging, most sustained big wall.

When I arrived in the valley, I already had my headset on doing a proper solo route, something full value, not messing around with speed shenanigans this time. My first choice was Tempest (A4), a relatively modern route with tons of thin climbing close to Mescalito. One reason for a long solo climb was I'm working on a film with Jen Randell (who made Project Mina) called 'Journey through the Brain' - a sort of profile of me and my relationship with climbing, and my solo climb was a way of getting some content for our Kickstarter campaign. And so I needed to do a challenging route, but not so hard I couldn't do some filming.

The first part of the trip was spent climbing Zodiac (for the seventh time!) with my mate Charles, who wanted to lead a big wall (he led all but three pitches). My eye was drawn over to the North American fence and the Sea. This wall area is like looking over at Mousetrap Zawn on Gogarth, with tons of black, lost diorite, mega steep, and death on a stick. Tempest scared me a bit, but it travelled up golden solid granite; the Sea frightened me even more, the horror stories of pitches like the Hook or Book, Peregrine Pillar, the Blue Room, the expanding belay (cams placed in an expanding crack!) having hung in my mind for years, dispelling any desire to climb it. The peregrine pillar scared me the most, with these words by Nate Beckwith having stuck with me since I read them online in the late '90s.

After our third bivvy on the wall, I took the Peregrine Pillar pitch that morning. This pitch was one of the hardest, scariest pitches on the climb for me. Starting with a long stretch of no pro 5.8, I arrived at the base of two loose pillars, which I would have to climb up the middle of. Watching my cams expand and contract in the loose diorite, I half free-climbed, half aided to the top of the pillar. Next was some tricky nailing, with a nasty fall to the pillar if things went wrong. A few moves up, I started pounding in an angle. The rock started moaning and would not stop! I tapped on all the rocks around me. All loose and hollow. The moaning continued. I thought surely the entire face was about to go. Finally, the moaning ceased. I decided not to take any more swings at the pin. I tied it off and continued upward. Finally, there are some better pins than the belay. And not a moment too soon; this was a long pitch.

No other route scared me more on El Cap than the Sea. But then why not do it for that very reason - why should I let what others say or write about these pitches put me off, about death falls from a puzzle of skyhook moves, of car-sized blocks that rattled and moved when you nailed them, or pillars that hung like Jenga blocks that and to be free climbed to the top and then set off up tricky A4 terrain? I had come to 'sort my head out' - to reboot my body and mind, something nothing can do like a hard wall can do - why not go for the total dose?

I had already done Bridwell's other classics on this part of the wall, Pacific Ocean wall and Zenyatta Mondatta, and thought the Sea would be like these, hardish. Still, OK, the shine would have gone from what was once state of the art - that I'd get the 'tick', but it would all be in the minds of those who had not done them. Sure, it would be hard, but I'd nail it and become a hero - overcoming all the stories and dealing with the hard facts.

And so up I went, a huge rack and ten days of food and water (33 litres) that could be stretched a little, years of experience to guard me in what I might find. I was ready for a battle - but not a war.

It wasn't so long until I'd climbed all the lower pitches, which, although not easy, were OK with care and attention and reached the 'Continental Shelf' and the Hook or Book; this was the first "If you fall, you die" pitch on El Cap and involves crossing a vertical wall mainly on hooks, with rivets and old pegs at the start for pro. At the halfway point, lower off a rivet (a 5 mm machine bolt hammered into a shallow hole) and swing around until you can catch an edge with a skyhook. The fun starts as you begin a chess game with the rock, hooking further and further right, stepping high with hooks on tiny nicks and edges, and searching for the next hook. Slowly, you get to the point that if you fall, you will fall into the corner below you - probably a 100-foot fall. Luckily protection is at hand halfway to the belay in the form of a nest of copperheads.

Unfortunately, I saw all but one had fallen out on reaching them! Getting out my heads, I tried to replace them, but the depth of these heads could be more profound and better defined as if you pressed a match stick into some clay. Luckily, there was a solid flake beside them, so I backed up the heads with a bomber sky hook and held down my Fish tag bag (funny, but you believe this to be true then). From here, you press on (you never weigh the heads - they're only there for "pro"), hooking further and further, hoping you don't go the wrong way and end up 'in the book'. And there's the belay - and it's done.

It's boring to describe every pitch, but I wonder if I've climbed a route so sustained and mentally draining, probably not helped by being alone. I was out of condition at the start, and my hands swelled up so much I couldn't get my gloves on, so I just had to hope that they could heal faster than they hurt. Again and again, I got to a point where I could not puzzle out how to progress, and I even had to rap one time and try again the next day - but each time, I unlocked the puzzle by following my big wall motto: "If in doubt - get high". But again and again, I was top-stepping on some placement that defied reason to hold.

And then, one morning, I woke up and found the Peregrine pillar before me. Again, I won't go into blow-by-blow detail - only to say it begins with an unprotected traverse on creaky flakes (if you fall, you'd probably break your legs as you swung down onto the North American wall). Then you reach the pillars, a set of high blocks sitting one on top of each other that look as if they would topple off if you lay them back. Half aiding (with nuts, not cams, to limit prising them over), half free climbing (I call it 'fraid' climbing!), I made up this nightmare, wondering if it was C1 5.8 or C4 XS. And then, with a careful mantle, I was standing on top of the pillar, the rest of the pitch before me - A4 climbing with the pillar to hit if you fucked up!

The days were hot and often still and windless deep within the womb of the North American diorite, with 3 litres a day pushing it. I also found no easy pitches, forcing me to get up at dawn and climb into the dark, the punishment and stress unrelenting, but I could not stop - I had to get to the top before I ran out of water.

The Blue room was unique, with the wall getting looser and looser, the very skin of it overlaid with cardboard-thin flakes that flexed and grated against my toes, flakes I feared would fracture and sail down and cut my rope. Any pin placed felt as if it could unlock the whole wall and cause it to fall - the entire feature on a hair-trigger. Up there in the black rock, nothing was safe - especially me, my lines getting hung up again and again on downward-pointing teeth of rock. Again and again, I asked for a break - but never was one forthcoming; the straightforward snap of a portaledge corner or my finger finding an edge was all I was given. Again and again, I would find myself laughing at what I was forced to do - a hook tied to my hammer for a blind hook move out of reach, a cam hook behind a flake as thin as bone china, opposed beaks in a horizontal crowed with broken RURP tips.

My food ran out; my water was low. It was my 44th birthday, and my birthday tea was a packet of M&M's and the final brew of tea before my gas ran out -and yet it felt like a feast - me of all people, 44 years old and still alive and out here in the middle of the Sea. My body grew thinner and more challenging, got strong as it does on a wall, then broke down, as it does on a wall. I slept with my arms above my head as if I was surrendering, the only way to stop my hands from feeling like they would burst.

And then I was almost there - three pitches of the North America wall - the end of the Sea. An easy day, I thought. But alone, nothing is easy.

And so I stood there, fourteen days on, at the end - again - a year older, but not the man who started, with all his doubts, thoughts, and old troubles. I was broken down by the wall, skin and bone and fat and brain and thought rendered by the toil of it all. I stood there and looked around, feeling the feeling you get at the end of all such adventures such as this, at the rim of the wall, at the edge of myself.

Bio

"To experience complete freedom in seeking his purposes, he would have to be alone, and that's impossible since a person who isn't brought up among people cannot become a person."

~ Stanislaw Lem, Solaris

The US magazine 'Climbing' once described Andy as a climber with a "strange penchant for the long, the cold and the difficult", with a reputation "for seeking out routes where the danger is real, and the return is questionable, pushing himself on some of the hardest walls and faces in the Alps and beyond, sometimes with partners and sometimes alone."

Climbing since age five, Andy's speciality is big wall climbing and winter expeditions. He has climbed El Cap over 35 times, including five solo ascents and two one-day ascents, skied across Greenland, put up new routes in Antarctica, and spent a month on the Eiger North face in winter and Denali in winter (without getting up either).

Andy is also an accomplished writer, with books such as: 'Psychovertical', 'Cold Wars', and 'Unknown Pleasures', being viewed as modern adventure classics. His instructional books 1001 Climbing Tips, Higher Education and Down, have also helped many climbers achieve their goals, have more fun trying, and stay safer when they don't.

Andy lives in Connemara, on the wild West coast of Ireland.

Books

On the Line, Kirkpatrick, 2023

Down, Kirkpatrick, 2021

Higher Education, Kirkpatrick, 2018

Unknown Pleasures, Vertebrate, 2018

Me, Myself & I, Kirkpatrick, 2015

1001 Climbing Tips, Vertebrate, 2016

Cold Wars, Vertebrate, 2011

Psychovertical, Hutchinson, 2008

Note: several of these books have been translated into various languages, including French, German, Spanish, Polish, Russian, and Korean.

Films

Cold Haul, Fresh Lettuce, 2004

Suffering Andy, Slackjaw, 2006

Winter Patagonia, Posing Productions, 2008

Psycho Vertical, Light Shed, 2018

Books by the author

On the Line

- Top Rope Solo Manual

ISBN: 1999700554

Paperback / Hardback / Kindle

Buy

Down

- The Descent Manual

ISBN: 1999700570

Paperback / Kindle

Buy

Me, Myself & I

- The dark arts of big wall soloing

ISBN: 978-1545122259

Paperback / Kindle

Buy

Higher Education

- The Big Wall Bible

ISBN: 978-1999700591

Paperback / Kindle

Buy

1001 Climbing Tips

ISBN: 978-1910240533

Paperback / Kindle

Buy

Unknown Pleasures

- Collected writing

ISBN: 978-1911342724

Paperback / Kindle

Buy

Cold Wars

ISBN: 978-1906148461

Paperback / Kindle

Buy

Psychovertical

ISBN: 978-0099519522

Paperback / Kindle

Buy

Book Info

Copyright © Andrew Kirkpatrick

Text © Andrew Kirkpatrick

Illustrations © Andrew Kirkpatrick

All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Contact & Social

If you want to get in touch with me, then contact me via my website or the following social media:

Website: andy-kirkpatrick.com

Substack: andykirkpatrick.substack.com

Email: books@andy-kirkpatrick.com