In reply to Graeme Hammond:
> Mandarin (E2 5c) doesn't really get dirty and should you get on it it is worth the hype humble opinion. Being closed all the time is admittedly a pain but that doesn't stop the route being good. Shame access isn't better as other routes would probably stay alot cleaner with regularly traffic, hopefully one day I'll get to clean up and climb Boadicea (E2 5c).
My take on Mandarin - from the 'book'
MANDARIN.
More years ago than I can (or care to) remember the granddaddy of modern climbing magazines, Rocksport, featured an article entitled 'Lancashire Hotpot'. It made interesting reading but we were generally far too wrapped up working through an apparently endless collection of classic climbs on this side of the Pennines to be bothered trying to battle through the weekend traffic in Manchester in search of what we considered esoterica. The article covered a selection of limestone and gritstone venues in the red rose county and was illustrated with a scattering of
black and white photographs. These were fairly unremarkable except for a full-page shot of a tiny figure bridged across the edge of a hanging groove and surrounded by a sea of overhangs; a climb called Mandarin. The route looked so impressive that I wondered if the caption was wrong and the climb was actually from Gogarth or some other even more exotic location.
In 1983 a new Lancashire guide appeared in the shops and so we finally decided that we had to investigate this mystical land. On the first visit it had to be Hoghton and to our surprise we found that the Sunday morning trip through Manchester was fast and trouble-free. We parked up, wandered across the railway line and through the cutting into the quarry. At first sight the place was mighty impressive, with great open corners, smooth walls and superb crack lines; like a silent tree-shrouded version of Millstone Quarry.
We warmed up with a couple of the easier climbs and then gathered at the foot on the most impressive line in the place, it looked even more imposing than the dimly remembered photograph. After a little 'umming and arring' I set off up the corner with a distinct feeling of being a lamb on the way to meet an unknown but probably unpleasant end.
Easy rock led to a roof where a couple of solid peg runners protected a swing right onto a band of soft yellow rock. A sprint up a long dusty flake left me bridged at the point where things obviously turned tougher. The protection was good but a short rib took several attempts to sort out. I was quite sure that the upward (and outward) beyond the rib was the real problem, in short I was gripped. After giving myself a bit of a talking to I eventually made the moves and got established under the biggest overhang where I slotted in a couple of runners and tried to regain my composure.
A narrow undercut wall ran out right and there was a good crack under the overhang, but getting started was problematic. The climb has always been graded 5b, and maybe it is for short climbers but I was definitely struggling to bunch my lanky frame under the roof and eventually I finger-traversed a small edge before pulling powerfully to gain the undercuts and scuttle rapidly around the arete into a recessed corner. Above were more overhangs, the rope
drag was becoming a problem, and I was getting ever more harassed. I had the feeling that I had earned my tick but the Mandarin was not through with me yet, talk about Chinese torture! Uncomfortably wide bridging got me past the overhang but the rock still leaned out above me. A swing-out left into a position of harrowing exposure and a couple of stiff pulls on good but slightly loose holds and I wrapped my arms thankfully around the capping tree; blessed release.
I tied onto the tree and sat back in a comfortable grassy seat. It was some time before I took the ropes in and a lot longer before I realised that I was sitting on an ant's nest. The route had left me exhausted and yet elated, I was grateful there weren't too many climbs like Mandarin on gritstone, just one is enough.
Chris