A Ramble on the Rundlehorn

Climbing the Rundlehorn

In the summer I avoid the mountain towns like the plague. Too busy, congested, and overrun with people whose manners appear to be vacationing elsewhere. This aversion to tat shops and tourist traps meant that I’d never ventured onto the rocks that lie between the summits of Mt. Rundle and Tunnel Mountain. Yesterday, however, in this crazy August-like April that we’re enjoying, I made up for that with ascent of a recently-created low grade mini-classic sport climb: Rundlehorn (5.5. 250 m). I was glad of the opportunity; it's excellent fun.  

The climb takes the left edge of Rundle's lower buttress, in eleven pitches.

Evan on pitch 4. The route makes good use of the better rock on this slab.

Back in the UK, a 250 m route was something to write home about. Outside Scotland, such routes are confined to a tiny range of near-forgotten faces in Snowdonia. In fact, Rundlehorn has the feel of a slightly loose Lliwedd classic about it. Just exchange route-finding for bolt-seeking, the black lakes of Snowdon for the turquoise Bow River, and pretend that the out-of-place artificiality of the golf course doesn’t exist. It’s usually a poor idea to get stuck behind people on Lliwedd, and the same definitely applies to this Rockies cousin. There is loose rock on every ledge, and the descent is a series of rappels down features that seem designed to funnel stone-fall, although the guides that set this route have made a good effort to place the stances under shelter where possible. We were most fortunate to have the climb to ourselves, and to escape before the forecasted thunderstorm began – perfect timing, and a most enjoyable day out!

  The climb itself is straightforward. We started from where a fallen tree blocks the ascent gully; the official first pitch begins somewhere about 25 m below this though, if you know where to look. The bolts are spaced, but the rock is low-angled, and fairly sound. The difficulties, such as they are, don’t start until you leave the ramp after about five pitches, and gain a scoop on the north face of Mt. Rundle. I recall thinking “oh, I could fall of here if I don’t pay attention”, but it’s well protected. Above this, there is maybe another move or two of 5.5, but it’s all over too soon. We’re no speed merchants, but the climb only took a couple of hours end to end; it flows really well. If you can get there on a quiet day, you’ll probably feel just as grateful to those who equipped this route as we did, while basking in the sunshine on the final ledge.

I'd call these features on pitch 9 "chickenheads", but the local term may be "stipples". They make great holds, regardless.

I suspect the guides planned this pitch around the photo opportunity for their clients!