the nostalgia project: Echo Beach, UAE (2009)

The route

Echo Beach is a 20m power-endurance sport route on the Azimuth wall of Tawiyan cliff, in the Fujairah emirate of the UAE. The grade is around 7b or 7b+ (YDS 5.12b/c).

Daniel Cieszynski on the second crux of Echo Beach, 2010

The context

As recently as 2006, almost all “UAE rock climbing” was actually in Oman. Border restrictions on the way to the two most popular areas, Wonderwall, and Wadi Bih, east of Ras Al Khaimah, were non-existent. Frustratingly, policy changed abruptly between 2006 and 2010. Wadi Bih, an area with more than a hundred trad routes established over the previous ten years, was worst affected, becoming totally inaccessible, except to GCC citizens. Journey times to several other areas became much longer and forgetting to carry passports could wreck a day out.

An obvious response was to start looking for cliffs wholly within the UAE. In 2007 I received a tip from Alan Stark in the UK, who had acquired an encyclopedic knowledge of the region in the 1990s, to search where Fujairah has a border with the Omani enclave, Musandam. In his time, this was serious off-road territory, but a new black-top road from Khatt to Dibba had changed that. I identified a couple of wadis (canyons) of interest from Google Earth. In May that year, Scott Barber and I made a quick side-trip, while heading to Dibba, finding one of the wadis to be an apocalyptic quarry, but the other, beyond the dusty village of Tawiyan, to be of possible interest.

About a year later, Scott had some time free after a solo shopping trip to the infamous “Barracuda” liquor store in Umm Al Quwain. Rather than return direct to Dubai he drove over to Tawiyan and hiked a couple of kilometers up the wadi. That evening he called excitedly to say that he’d found something special: a 70m overhanging cliff facing north and hidden from anywhere. Scott showed me the location shortly afterwards and very generously encouraged me to start developing routes without him, as he was heading off for a long vacation in the US.

Scott high above Tawiyan wadi, 2008

Tawiyan cliff in 2008, before the bolts

Close-up view of the Azimuth wall

And side-view, looking down the wadi

I began a series of visits, sometimes alone, sometimes with Nick McElwee, portering static ropes and bolting gear a kilometer in 40°C heat. Reaching the shade under the cliff was always a relief and a pleasure. The canyon floor was white gravel, interspersed with giant boulders, like a super-sized Japanese zen garden. As to the climbing, there were so many opportunities that it was hard to know where to start. Progress was slow as everything was harder than we first guessed and the size of the cliff complicated logistics. But it was very exciting to have a whole new cliff to work on; a creative opportunity that I had never had before. The drive from Abu Dhabi took three hours each way. Eventually I would become so committed to Tawiyan development that I would sometimes travel there just for the day.

The area felt very isolated and primitive compared to Dubai or Abu Dhabi. Goat herding was the main livelihood in the village. Early in our explorations we stumbled over a macabre sight: dead animals hung in a tree just outside the town. I took some photos and shared them around the expat community. A little later, someone identified the remains as caracals, presumably trapped and killed to prevent them preying on goats. The population of these bobcat-relatives is endangered in the Arabian peninsula. An article by a conservation-minded journalist about the "Caracal Tree" then appeared in a UAE national newspaper. Unsurprisingly the evidence vanished soon after.

The caracal tree

One of the first projects was the arête running the full height of the cliff in its centre. During October 2008 I left a 100m rope on the line for a few weeks whilst busy. When I returned to make the first ascent I was startled to see most of the rope heaped on a ledge halfway up the cliff and roughly cut where the excess had been piled at the base. It also had been truncated at the top. Whilst finishing the climb, Jebel Jebel, I realized I was being watched from a kilometer away by two goat-herders on the donkey track that passed above the cliff. I wondered if they now owned the missing 30m of rope and – if so – what usage they planned.

We never suffered any other incidents like that and continued plugging away at route development through the autumn. Nick was an especially loyal partner. At New Years Eve in 2008 he had free tickets to see a well-known Columbian singer perform in Abu Dhabi, but instead opted for a weekend at Tawiyan. The route he completed was briefly christened “Don’t Wanna Hear Ya, Shakira” (later changed to the subtler “Laundry Service”).

Over the cooler months, Scott, Nick and I often camped at the mouth of the wadi; a very tranquil spot. But in early 2009 we began to notice signs of change. Marker poles sprouted along the line of the donkey track whilst a labour camp appeared near the village. Initially worried that it signaled yet another quarry excavation, we were relieved to discover that “only” a road was intended.

Pete on the second ascent of the massive Jebel Jebel arete, 6b

Chris Regilski on Scott's classic route Stone Pussy, 6c

Leo and Florence exploring the Tawiyan boulders, watched by Nick, 2008

Florence and Leo, campsite during the initial Tawiyan development days, 2008

As the more obvious easier lines got done, my main focus turned to a leaning wall in the lower centre of the cliff. On a mid-summer visit we were surprised to find this face in the sun, despite its northerly aspect and location deep in the canyon. This was a consequence of the wide solar azimuth angle near the equator at the solstice - a phenomenon that I had not previously appreciated. There seemed to be scope for sustained routes up to 20-30 metres long: a rare characteristic on the Hajar limestone, where rock tends to be vertical and broken by ledges.

I went to work on the most plausible line. Bolting on it was no joke. Accessing the vertical terrain where I wanted the top anchors required a 70m free-hanging rappel off the top of the cliff with several directional bolts to pull the rope in. I completed the bolting in December 2008. The project name was "Echo Beach" from the beginning. The Martha and the Muffins' hit (unquestionably now out of fashion and a trifle uncool) was a feature of my late teens, the base of the route was beach-like and the wadi had a great echo.

The peak season for UAE climbing is mid-winter when temperatures hover around 20°C. From late March onward 35°C and upwards is the norm and hard climbing is much less feasible. For some reason I did not get serious about working the project until late January. This proved to be a mistake. In late February I wrote in the diary: "Several tries on Echo Beach finding severe stamina issues and crux just plain hard." and on Facebook: "Stressed by my project; it is getting too hot to climb ..." Another pressure was my UAE climbing guidebook. I needed to sign off on the manuscript in the summer to be able to get it printed for the 2009/10 winter season. I really wanted to get Echo Beach into the guide.

Working the first crux of Echo Beach in 2009

Higher on the first crux

Working the middle section; classic UAE hazy conditions

The ascent

The route is in two halves, separated by the kind of "good" rest common on overhanging routes:  large jug and decent footholds but no chance of taking the load off your arms entirely. The upper part is pumpy with long reaches and some brief footless action, but is not very technical. I could do that section in isolation from an early stage. The lower part had two hard sections. Awkward undercutting through the steepest section of the route to a small rail feature then a series of deadpoints on slopey pockets to get feet on to the rail and better handholds. This section was my nemesis.

From the beginning of March my regular partners had all become wary of the heat and would no longer go to Tawiyan. I was very lucky at this point to be contacted by Toru, who had just been posted to Abu Dhabi by his Japanese employers. He was so keen to climb that he was prepared to overlook the temperature and knew no better than to come with me to Tawiyan. One session on my home board also demonstrated that he was a stronger climber than me; not unhelpful when there are hard moves to be solved. That said, I forget whether I let him try Echo Beach before I sent. Probably not!

On our first visit I did not send but did get much more solid on a critical drop knee at the crux. From the diary. "Had five tries on Echo Beach failing each time not holding jug above crux sequence. But encouraging that now have crux wired."

Two weeks later I was back: "Tawiyan with Toru on strange thundery almost rainy day. He led Bloody as Hell [a stout 6c+/ 7a] first try having worked two weeks before. I TR'd it as a warmup! Then got Echo Beach first try of the day – an epic ascent. Did the top part in a kind of dreamy detached urgency."

The critical drop knee

The road builders arrive :-(

I don't remember much else about the day except that while Toru took a nap I scrambled out of the canyon and saw exactly how advanced the road work above the cliff had become.

Subsequent ascents

A month after climbing Echo Beach, I visited Tawiyan with Leo to go bouldering. It had rained heavily during the previous two weeks and I was heartbroken to discover that huge quantities of debris from the road building work had been swept into the wadi base. The beautiful white pebbles which had been such a cool feature of the place were buried under a couple of metres of sharp brown junk. Almost all of the boulder problems we had established over the previous year were obscured and all the starts of established routes affected to some extent.

Leo in the Tawiyan wadi, April 2009

Scott in the same location a year before

I dialed back my visits to the cliff over the next year or so, as it was so upsetting to visit, just finishing some lines that I wanted to get into the guide. Notably the spectacular Fujairah Spaceport on the left hand side of the cliff, which I somehow led mid-summer in 40°C heat and 15% humidity, dry-heaving above the crux from the effort.

Classic UAE summer climbing conditions!

Matt Pfeiffer on Fujairah Spaceport, 7a+

After the guidebook was published, Tawiyan got quite popular, for all the reasons that had made it worth developing in the first place: quick access from Dubai, no border issues, good routes. This encouraged me to resume visits, sometimes bringing a very young James with me. While there, I redpointed Echo Beach at least another four times, including two laps on one day. Some friends shot video of one of those ascents, embedded here (yes, it was windy that day).

Three year old James at Tawiyan, 2011

Overall my time at Tawiyan - almost fifty days in total - was a highlight of my stay in the UAE. But also an education in impermanence and the emotional risk of getting too attached to places over which you have no control.

the nostalgia project: Fiesta de los Biceps, Spain (2008)

The route

Fiesta de los Biceps is one of the most famous multi-pitch routes in Europe. I don't think it has acquired that status for any individual moves or pitches, more for its overall extraordinary character. To visualise the route, think of one of those big concave overhanging lead walls, fashionable at new climbing gyms in the early 2000s, then imagine that wall was fed steroids and grew to 300 metres high. Alternatively, just watch this excellent video of the route made by Mammut in 2016 for their "The Classics" series:



Fiesta summits the Visera, one of several conglomerate towers that make up the Mallos de Riglos. The hardest climbing on Fiesta is around sport 7a (YDS 5.11d).

Los Mallos de Riglos and Riglos village © Turismo Huesca
From left to right: Mallo Fire, Mallo Bison, Mallo Visera 

The context

Sometime in the late 1980s or early 1990s, climbing magazines ran barely-believable photos of a crazy Spaniard soloing on an even crazier conglomerate face. This was Carlos Garcia, alone on Fiesta de los Biceps just a few months after it was first free-climbed. It is perhaps no exaggeration to say that these were the most radical images of rock climbing in print for many years; at least until footage of Alex Honnold on Freerider began circulating after his solo in 2017.

Carlos Garcia soloing Fiesta in 1989 © Desnivel

Garcia cutloose-showboating during his Fiesta solo © Desnivel

However over the next decade or so, normal people started climbing Fiesta (roped, obviously) and the route transitioned from the backdrop to Garcia's feat into a must-do classic. It definitely sat on my wish-list for a long time. I believe the catalyst for at last planning a Fiesta pilgrimage was a conversation with Dan during our 2007 Oman trip, but that may be wrong. Whichever, in June 2008 I flew to London from Abu Dhabi, took a bus to Bristol to meet Dan, flew with him to Pau in southern France from Bristol Airport, drove a rental car across the Pyrenees into Spain with a bivi somewhere near the border, continued blearily along dusty Spanish roads then watched the Riglos towers heave into view.

First night bivi, Pyrenees 

First view of Los Mallos de Riglos from the road

We got straight onto the Puro, a strikingly-thin satellite tower of the huge Bison feature, after arriving. I had had some concerns about the climbing for a few reasons. One was that my only prior experience of conglomerate, at Montserrat in 1991, had not gone well. However the larger cobbles on the Riglos stone seemed more amenable. I had also been rehabbing tendonitis in both forearms over the previous few months and so was not at all fit. And then there was the minor issue of jetlag. But the six pitches of the 6b Puro Normale route went smoothly enough.

Mallo Bison and the Puro

Dan on the Puro

Mallo Visera from the village
Fiesta de los Biceps takes the steepest line

The ascent

Optimistic after the Puro climb, we tackled Fiesta on our second day. This seems to be a recurring theme on my overseas trips; that the attempt on the main objective is made at an early stage after a deceptively easy introductory climb. Retrospectively, it usually feels like an error!

The technical crux on Fiesta actually comes low on the route, on the third pitch (7a) where the face begins to steepens. Prior to this, the climbing is slabby to vertical on big holds. Disappointingly, I fell off seconding the crux, which I remember as tenuous stemming on unhelpful small pebbles. This eroded my confidence and detracted from the rest of the route. However I did manage to swap leads through the next few pitches and led the steep sixth pitch (6c) clean, which was some compensation.

The situation of the route from pitch four onwards is extraordinary. The angle is continuously overhanging, such that you know rationally that you are a long way out horizontally from the base of the route hundreds of metres below, but the visual experience of this is very hard for the brain to compute. The strongest input is the chalk trail snaking below, which gives little clue to angle. For me at least, it sometimes felt weirdly like the face below was a low-angle slab.

Somewhere in the middle of Fiesta - pitch 4 or 5, I think 

Dan following pitch 6

Looking down from pitch 7 stance

Dan led the upper crux of the route (given 6c+ or 7a in different topos), which is less technical than the third pitch but steeper than anything else on the route. My fitness was really inadequate for this pitch and I pumped out on the slopey blobs several times, grabbing quickdraws to avoid swinging out over the void. I recall that I was so drained that I handed over the final lead too, which was only 6a.

Following crux pitch 8

Higher on pitch 8

The next day we drove poorly-signed roads for several hours to the famous sport area, Rodellar. Dan managed to continue climbing there but I rested. My best memory of that day was our bivi spot that night, at a gravel pull-out on a ridge with long views around the Pre-Pyrenee hills. The next day we both climbed at Rodellar then drove back to Riglos in the evening.

Rest day dinner, somewhere between Riglos and Rodellar

The remainder of the trip continued to be eventful. Dan was very keen to climb the historic and somewhat notorious Rabadá-Navarro route on the Mallo Fire tower. For some reason at that time (and maybe still?) Spanish climbers were preserving it as a museum piece, protected by junky gear left from early ascents. Route finding was tough. Dan got lost on one pitch and had to rappel back to a stance. I felt unnerved throughout and as far as I recall did not lead any pitches. The next day, we climbed the easiest route on the other big tower, Mallo Bison; a contrastingly-fun experience. The summit of this tower is a lovely spot, perfect for chilling out and attempting to photograph vultures. The diary tells me that we drove all the way back to Pau airport that evening, to catch a midnight flight back to Britain.

Vulture sculpture in Rodellar

Real vulture from Mallo de Bison summit

Mallo de Fire from the Bison summit

Subsequent ascents

None. I have not been back to the Riglos (or anywhere in Spain). Fiesta de los Biceps is prominent in my much-too-long "should repeat in better style" list. Given the limited number of years remaining in which climbing at this level may be possible for me, and the large number of new places that I would still like to visit, I doubt it will happen, but if I do find myself somewhere nearby, I hope I will make the effort.

the nostalgia project: French Pillar of Jebel Misht, Oman (2007)

The route

Jebel Misht from the east - spot the line

And from the south - ditto

From an online topo linked from Mountain Project:

"The 900m South-East face of Jebel Misht is thought to be the tallest cliff in the Arabian Peninsula. The 1979 French route follows the compelling central arete of the face and is undoubtedly the classic long climb of the region. Whilst there are many other striking cliffs in Oman, nothing else discovered so far dominates the landscape as the French Pillar. Anyone who has passed under the cliff will confirm that it is a stunning line, a desert hybrid of the Walker Spur of the Grandes Jorasses and The Nose of El Capitan; both climbs of similar scale."

The first ascent of the French route by a large team of (obviously) French climbing guides took a month and employed fixed ropes. Apocryphally the Sultan of Oman dispatched a helicopter to whisk the successful team from the summit to celebrations at his palace in Muscat!

The hardest climbing on the correct line of the route is around 6b+ or low 5.11 or, for Brits, E3'ish. However it is easy to get off-route and stray on to harder terrain.

The context

I first saw Jebel Misht in November 2005. I had driven with Shoko and Leo into Oman for several hours on the desert road between the Hajar and the Empty Quarter. Just past the first town of any size, Ibri, I noticed a vast dark wedge rising out of the haze to our north. It was Misht with the south-east face in profile, still 50 km away. The mountain disappeared as we drove toward it through a maze of ophiolite foothills, then as we rounded a bend it reared up abruptly in front of us. The line of the French Pillar was obvious and magnificent. Though my main focus at that time was on sport climbing, it was clear that I needed to make an exception for this thing.

With Leo, campfire on the Jebel Shams plateau

Jebel Misht from Jebel Shams

Tree on the Jebel Shams plateau

Unfortunately the only source of information available for the route at that time was a 1993 guidebook with a wordy account of climbing the route over several days but no topo.

In January 2006 I tried the route with a friend, Mike O, from Dubai. Many factors combined to make it an unrealistic attempt including a late start the day before which resulted in insufficient research of the approach hike and a lot of wasted time before we even began roped climbing. Then we got badly off-route on the first crux section. I led a long barely-protected pitch on virgin rock that still makes me shudder when I recall it; one of those "could have died" moments. On the positive side, when we abandoned our attempt and rappelled off, we saw where we had gone wrong. I also realised that the weight of carrying water, combined with terrain unsuitable for hauling, meant that a committed fast ascent was really the only sensible approach. And for that I needed a very strong partner.

Mike on the first pitch of the French Route

I mentioned the project to Dan who had already shown some interest in a visit to the region. He flew in from the UK in January 2007 for a two week trip, of which we allocated a whole week to time in the Misht region. My friend Wolf also offered to support us on a French Pillar attempt, generously promising to meet us on the summit by hiking the lower-angled north face.

Dan with local Omani kids who visited us for breakfast

Al Hamra towers from the same spot

Ahead of trying Misht, Dan and I did a “training route” on one of the more modest sized Al Hamra Towers, the seven pitch “En Attendant Les Lents”. This seemed like enough climbing for one day for me, but Dan had other ideas, and soloed the similar-sized but harder “La Mama” on the adjacent tower. Not for the first time I was reminded that he and I had very different risk tolerances. (Two months later I went back with a Dubai friend, Scott, to climb La Mama. I was horrified to find that the crux was insecure climbing near the very top of the 300m tower.)

Dan finishing En Attendant Les Lents

Dan soloing on La Mama

And higher on the same route

The next day was supposed to be a rest day but Dan proposed that we descend and ascend a via ferrata that had just been installed on cliffs below the peak, Jebel Shams - Oman’s highest point - where we were camping. This proved to be quite educational as the via ferrata followed traditional cliff “paths” used by inhabitants of a long-abandoned village at its base, including long vertical sections between ledges that had once been negotiated using dead tree branches and other precarious junk. The actual via ferrata was modern but Dan insisted that we should "solo" it without harnesses, lanyards or any of the usual equipment, added back some historical authenticity. After this adrenaline dose we drove over to the base of Misht. We had enough daylight to scope the approach hike properly - a distinct improvement on the previous year.

Side view of the cliffs crossed by the Jebel Shams VF - note vehicle for scale!

Via ferrata "soloing" shenanigans

Natural infinity pool above the Jebel Shams via ferrata

The ascent

Misht from our campsite

From the diary:

“3:45am start, then left car at 4:30am. Below the cliff just before dawn and finally started climbing at 6:30am. I insisted on leading the second pitch (again) to Dan's horror. ”

Waiting for dawn below the route

Beginning the simul-climbing

It was important for me to lead the crux (second) pitch as I did not want to feel that I was being “guided”. Dan was sceptical but I got the job done. In fact it turned out that I had completed the hardest moves on the pitch the previous year, before we had traversed off-route, and that the climbing above was just some strenuous yarding on big flakes. Above there we simul-climbed for hundreds of meters on easy ground. About half way up we encountered a food cache from the 1978 ascent with some meat cans still intact. Above this the line follows a classic ridge feature with an approximately 600m vertical drop to one side. Probably the most exposed situation I have ever encountered.

Thirty year old food cache. 

Massive exposure in the middle of the route

Near the top. We transitioned from simul'ing back to conventional climbing for the last 200m.

“Rest of the route passed very smoothly, bar a short shouting match on the ledges below the headwall where Dan left me unbelayed whilst messing around with a long traverse."

Simul-climbing becomes especially sketchy if you move sideways for long distances without placing protection! Dan had done this and then started ascending a harder vertical section. My analysis was that if he fell he would pull us both off - hence the shouting.

For the last 200m of the route we reverted to conventional pitched climbing. One pitch was quite fierce: a steep little finger crack which Dan led. It is possible that we missed an easier alternative.

Topped out the route at 3:00pm. At the summit we met Wolf, Suzanne and Tom and descended with them. Persuaded Tom to drive me back around to retrieve the car – managing to get lost in the main wadi in the dark. Then back to campsite on north side where we were treated to steaks and red wine – excellent.”

Dan, Tom and Wolf on the summit

The obligatory rack photo

The heinous north side of Misht. A knee-wrecking 1200m descent

Oddly we all managed to find the energy to climb the next day too. Bouldering (and swimming) in the idyllic Wadi Damm, one of the few places in Oman with year-round fresh water.

Active rest day messing around in Wadi Damm

Shallow water soloing

Subsequent ascents 

I visited the Jebel Misht area a few more times during my stay in Arabia but never climbed the route again.

Shortly after I climbed the route in 2007 I wrote the topo quoted at the beginning of this post and published it online. Surprisingly, twelve years later, I still see it referenced by people as the definitive description, even though a proper print guide exists. 

About three years after climbing the pillar, I had a business flight to Muscat from Abu Dhabi which flew directly over Jebel Misht in evening light. Viewed from above and in deep shadow, the South-East face was extraordinarily vertiginous, like a rendering error in a video game which had replaced landscape with blackness. It was hard to believe I had ever been there.