tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14235049499087290262024-03-18T20:06:28.525-07:00Victim Of MathematicsClimbing adventures!Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.comBlogger100125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-91985861914029572142017-08-31T15:28:00.000-07:002017-08-31T15:28:10.734-07:00Feeding the CapybaraIn his wonderful book Feeding The Rat, Al Alvarez talks about the titular phrase being "the need to get out, to test yourself, to flush out the system, and, above all, to have some fun". Well, on that basis, having climbed basically the square root of fuck all for several years, my rat was more of a ravenous capybara (the world's biggest rodent, fact fans). Or maybe it had died and I wasn't even a climber any more, just someone with a few good tales and a cupboard full of too many expensively acquired shiny things.<br />
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We were on a family holiday near Land's End, so I decided to throw the capybara a few crumbs to test its aliveness (Schroedinger's capybara?). The weather had been quite mediocre, but I had a few hours spare one evening, so I raced up to the Count House and walked down towards Bosigran - a path I've trodden many times before. Only this time I turned right and wandered round a beautiful little bay to the top of a crag - Halldrine Cove. This has a reputation as a fine beginners crag, being non-tidal and having a clutch of slabby, low-grade routes and an easy scramble down to the base.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halldrine Cove - magic</td></tr>
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I made my way down to the sea and traversed over to the start of a Diff. My arms vaguely remembered what to do, even if it all felt rather alien, and I was soon back at the top of the crag. Half an hour or so later and I was back there again with 3 more routes and over 100m of lovely easy climbing under my belt. I scrambled up to the little rocky summit of the buttress, watched the sun set into the sea and felt like I'd scratched an itch that I'd almost forgotten I had. All felt right with the world - it was a slightly hippy experience. Sadly this was punctured by me remembering that the car was half a mile away and significantly uphill, and it was about to get dark. Bah.<div>
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Roll on a couple of weeks and I had a 5 day climbing date with Oli. It had been a long time since we'd had a climbing adventure and the whole country was our oyster. So obviously the weather was utterly miserable. EVERYWHERE. It was even forecast to rain in Pembroke. The only place that looked vaguely dry was Swanage. Possible the biggest climbing area in the UK that I've never been to, and with good reason. Received wisdom being that it is steep, limestone and fally-downy. 3 of my least favourite things (yes yes yes, I know Pembroke is also limestone, but it's uniquely the good kind of limestone that proves the rule that all limestone is shit (the other exception being Jack Scout Crag, obvs)).</div>
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But before we had to go anywhere near the place, there was a day of dry weather in the Peak. Unfortunately I've climbed most of the routes in the Peak, but some judicious poring over guidebooks identified that there were unclimbed low grade routes, some of which had stars, at Gardoms. So we went there. The first order of business was to climb my 1,000th ticklist route, since I'd been marooned on 999 for ages. For those of you not keeping up, the ticklist is a list of every route at VS and below in the UK with at least 2 stars. There are about 3,400 of them and I'm determined to climb them all, however ridiculously unachieveable that goal may be.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Route number 1,000 and some daft bastard</td></tr>
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Anyway, Elliott's Crack, at the lofty grade of Severe, was the route accorded this mighty honour. It looked quite steep, although safe, and I was a bit scared racking up that I might fall off. Which would have been a bit anticlimactic. Luckily there was a lot of jamming and I can still evidently remember how to jam. There was also some glorious inelegant beaching onto a ledge below the top, and some hefty application of knees, before I arrived at the top of the crag, victorious, if a little bloody and out of breath. I could still remember how to climb 4a. And place gear. Ace. Some top bambering up Apple Arete from Oli, some weirdness up an HVDiff next door, and seconding Oli up NMC Crack in the pouring rain followed, whence we decided to call it a day and head south-west.<br />
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After a cracking night in the Old Spot in Dursley with Gordon, Katie, Paul and Becca, we set off to try and find some esoteric sandstone buttress under a flyover on the outskirts of Bristol, which Oli had spotted contained a 2 star VDiff in the recently-published Frome Valley Sandstone guide (sure to become an instant classic). Unfortunately access was blocked by some building works, so we asked a bloke in a high vis jacket and a Cambodia cap (nice) if we might get past. Through his debilitatingly thick Brizzle accent he seemed to be saying that this was his land and we should get off it. So we ran away. To Dartmoor. Where it was dry, but windy. Very windy.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haytor</td></tr>
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We started at Haytor, where we had once spent a night bivvying under constant fear of being trampled to death in our sleep by rogue cows. I wombled up a nice VDiff and we wandered round to the Low Man with a view to climbing Raven Wing, a fun sounding VS. It had an in situ team who were in the middle of a bizarre domestic argument. The leader had climbed too high to make the committing swing round an arete which gained access to the main part of the route, and was loudly blaming her belayer for this. She then ploughed on upwards, placing several massively underextended runners, before finding a way onto the top part of the route. At this stage she began to reap the rewards of those short extenders and seemed to have a near infinite amount of rope drag to contend with. As an added bonus, she was totally unable to hear anything her belayer said to her due to the wind. Their dog was also making a concerted effort to get kicked in the head by a skittish Dartmoor pony. Fun times. (I should add that they were very nice, just not overburdened with competence).<br />
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After waiting a while, it became clear that this palaver was not going to resolve itself quickly, so we repeated a nearby Severe that we'd done on our last visit. It was ace, if surprisingly steep. By the time we'd finished this the route was free. It was worth the wait. The swing round the arete was super committing but not too hard once you'd persuaded yourself it was going to be ok, and the arete above was continuously interesting and very pleasant.<br />
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Given our slow start to the day we wanted to wring as much value as we could from the remaining daylight, so we headed back to the car and over to Hound Tor, where Oli soloed a Mod and I led a slightly underwhelming VDiff. Followed by some very underwhelming fish and chips in Bovey Tracey and a wild camp under the stars on the moor.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hound Tor</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soloing at Hound Tor</td></tr>
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The weather wasn't perfect the next morning, but the forecast suggested it might stay mostly dry until lunchtime. So we headed to Sheeps Tor, home to a clutch of decent sounding lower grade routes. It was raining gently when we arrived, but the walk in was short so I insisted we should at least go and look at the crag. The routes faced away from the wind, so the rain was blowing over most of them, although it was utterly baltic. Anyway, it seemed like the only climbing we were likely to get done that day, so Oli led up a mostly dry and actually quite nice Severe, before I laid the smack down on a damp Diff. Grrr. Then it *really* started to rain and we ran away. We spent the rest of the day eating cream teas and playing pool in various venues along the south coast en route to visit my friend Susi who very kindly put us up in her caravan, and even made cake.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Eva36nJNu4ETRapeof4UD8pNk6Smy2r7ZpK4UjEnQQ0kl5wmWux-vd4sYq67RZk1bboAdnVyfWIMKDzfp36ytDWJe_CkvgLxiVyWd1UEIHTHWkVAQYlO_3Sz1xVpEM3URlY7sN-cgwcR/s1600/IMG_3478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Eva36nJNu4ETRapeof4UD8pNk6Smy2r7ZpK4UjEnQQ0kl5wmWux-vd4sYq67RZk1bboAdnVyfWIMKDzfp36ytDWJe_CkvgLxiVyWd1UEIHTHWkVAQYlO_3Sz1xVpEM3URlY7sN-cgwcR/s320/IMG_3478.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prime conditions at Sheeps Tor</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQgShLb7Q2MxacECjSysEVq7Loyr1I9zj23guwfbfA7ViM2L95cpqbMOHxu6qPlmssjhqZnjDpxDUtXwUlWcVLc5vItA6_3f3_la_Dx6Qkrf660wyZnLrveg6dZ2puEbJXjNPOtzhZ-Jod/s1600/IMG_3480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQgShLb7Q2MxacECjSysEVq7Loyr1I9zj23guwfbfA7ViM2L95cpqbMOHxu6qPlmssjhqZnjDpxDUtXwUlWcVLc5vItA6_3f3_la_Dx6Qkrf660wyZnLrveg6dZ2puEbJXjNPOtzhZ-Jod/s320/IMG_3480.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Classic rainy day shennanigans</td></tr>
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The next morning the rain had buggered off and it was finally the day of reckoning - we were going to Swanage. We decided to start with the Swanage-lite of Subluminal - a short walk in, non-tidal, and plenty of lower grade routes to go at. It also meant we didn't have to carry the enormous 80m static abseil rope with us. Whilst the view from the top of the crag was quite pretty:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKThQGKIM1CmLnYO-RYaTh1KS9tsVAavAWfUiWQ3HuUhW-ioQWNsNhQaQnL9DRQukBHLkblw1Jc2cUJqRtW44h_Bba7siFWcWDCmbR-Bld1gEFEnWoP7IIv9wbBbb7pV1yVpBueM9r-9o/s1600/IMG_3486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIKThQGKIM1CmLnYO-RYaTh1KS9tsVAavAWfUiWQ3HuUhW-ioQWNsNhQaQnL9DRQukBHLkblw1Jc2cUJqRtW44h_Bba7siFWcWDCmbR-Bld1gEFEnWoP7IIv9wbBbb7pV1yVpBueM9r-9o/s320/IMG_3486.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So much crag. So many climb. So wow.</td></tr>
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my first impressions were that it looked much like I was expecting. Steep, limestoney and a bit fally-downy. Hmmm. Still, at least it was Oli's lead first. We abbed down and he set off up a Severe corner. To my surprise this was actually not shit. The rock was surprisingly grippy. There were some holds. The gear was good (not those awful rattly insecure nut placements you tend to get on limestone). There were even a few jams. And nothing fell off. There were also some cool massive fossils (this is the Jurassic coast after all). I led another route and it was similarly good. This was a bit disorientating. After a third good route the tide had gone out sufficiently for us to get round the corner to the cave of Avernus. The guidebook made this route sound amazing - climbing out of a cave through a blowhole in the roof. Standing at the bottom, it looked scary and wet. Very, very wet. I girded my loins and set off upwards. Good holds kept appearing above me, and the rough rock was grippy in spite of the dampness. Eventually I hit the roof at the back of the cave and had to start bridging, alarmingly, out towards the window above the cave entrance that marked my salvation. The holds kept appearing, but the position, directly above Oli 10m below me, was amazing. Very reminiscent of the excellent (but much harder) Inner Space at Mother Careys (which I wrote about <a href="http://victimofmathematics.blogspot.co.uk/2010/08/pembroke.html">here</a>). Eventually I squeezed out through the skylight and back into the land of the living. Magic. Proper good old fashioned stupid fun. Basking in the sun as I laughed at Oli struggling up after me I almost felt like a proper climber again. *Almost*.<br />
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Suitably warmed up (and warming to the crag), we decided we should have a proper Swanage experience. So we drove to the (excellent) campsite at Tom's Field and walked over the hill (lugging the massive ab rope) to the top of Cormorant Buttress. Or at least, somewhere near the top of Cormorant Buttress. I had foolishly left Oli in charge of the guidebook, so we were a bit lost. Eventually we found the spot we were looking for. Probably. I tied the ab rope to the single available stake, backed it up with a dead bush, armed myself with a photo of the route description on my phone and set off down the ab rope.<br />
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The steep grass slope peppered with large loose blocks above the crag looked horrific (very Lundy/Gogarth esque and apparently a bit of a Swanage speciality), so I traversed it gingerly (hoping the line of our route would finish somewhere near the ab rope so we could escape up it) before setting off into the vertical unknown. At some point, half way down a 60m abseil, tied to one rusty stake and a dead shrub, abseiling down to a tidal boulder as the tide came in, very unsure if we were in the right place at all, and facing a very long swim if we weren't, I realised I was a lot less scared than any rational person would be. In fact I wasn't really that bothered at all. This all felt very normal. I think I can pinpoint this as the moment I realised that I was definitely still a climber, just a really bad one. The Capybara lives!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYyScwcgK2aCvMytoRTrfWyLxDDoLlpZZpLpUhwM8FJdfKpZc6ZG4Paap9HKRLuwQTJKujXUVYtQ5zubM4bSkbJhGJTHMJs8W9PHNEgGykzyYC20wS6tkQZ0PpuNBS1QqGSPE04sutsCj/s1600/IMG_3491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGYyScwcgK2aCvMytoRTrfWyLxDDoLlpZZpLpUhwM8FJdfKpZc6ZG4Paap9HKRLuwQTJKujXUVYtQ5zubM4bSkbJhGJTHMJs8W9PHNEgGykzyYC20wS6tkQZ0PpuNBS1QqGSPE04sutsCj/s320/IMG_3491.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Committed to finding a way out</td></tr>
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After this magnificent epiphany, the route itself wasn't all that. The first pitch was nice enough on some funky rock, but the second pitch was a bit dirty, wandering and generally rubbish. And there was laybacking. Ugh. Not really worth 3 stars (or 2), but worth it for the experience. Probably a bit of a terrifying experience for the budding Severe leader though. At least it did finish next to the ab rope.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3RatGv_VxNdZZAWdZpLYqBeTXaYjL7HueoNBSG9h6dZXShzECxdklgRxijymzDD7h6PRCMS7a0QVqWeyj73sdmuzPWflXUYY6b7cLd5sfOHimZo6Y9CViFbIqsVbBztCtygXwggdFSv3K/s1600/IMG_3494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3RatGv_VxNdZZAWdZpLYqBeTXaYjL7HueoNBSG9h6dZXShzECxdklgRxijymzDD7h6PRCMS7a0QVqWeyj73sdmuzPWflXUYY6b7cLd5sfOHimZo6Y9CViFbIqsVbBztCtygXwggdFSv3K/s320/IMG_3494.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cormorant Buttress West - average climbing, but a worthy adventure</td></tr>
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We rounded off our trip the following morning with a quick visit to Cattle Troughs, where Oli led a really good little VS, Isis. There were a lot of roofs, but not much steep climbing, which was nice. I managed to second it in a vaguely competent way (trying my best to be quick since I suspected, correctly, that we were running late).<br />
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So what's the moral of this story? Well, for the first time in almost 4 years I actually feel like some kind of rock climber. I'm not sure when I'll next have a chance to climb any rocks, but I'm quite psyched for it to be soon. I might even have to dust down my climbing logbook spreadsheet and give it a makeover...</div>
Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-83598587335370245582016-10-24T14:40:00.001-07:002016-10-24T14:40:05.850-07:00Once Upon A Time......I was a climber. Then I became a father and started poncing around on a bike in lycra. Those two things are somewhat correlated, it's much easier to fit in a quick fix on a bike in a spare hour than it is to do any worthwhile climbing. This graph neatly sums up the whole, rather sorry state of affairs:<br />
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Anyway, I stopped climbing, pretty much. After getting back from an amazing trip to Red Rocks in the Autumn of 2013, I soloed a Diff in Wales that was more vegetable than mineral and spent a few hours bimbling in Langdale (the subject of my last blog post) in 2014. In 2015, the sum total of my climbing was a day revisiting old classics at Stanage Popular End with Oli. I even onsighted a Hard Severe. Ooh.<br />
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2016 has been slightly better, but not much. I spent a couple of hours bouldering at Cratcliffe, while my daughter heckled Oli in amusing fashion - "why do you keep falling off?". Then I had a glorious afternoon at Bamford with my friend Susi. Mostly I entertained myself by placing as many bits of weird gear as I could, but we did actually climb a few routes.<br />
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A few weeks ago I caught up with J-Rowe and Adam at Stanage, taking Effie along for the first time. I wasn't climbing, but Effie was fascinated by all of the climbers and their strange noises - "why do they sound like cow bells?". So when we got home I showed her my rather dusty rack, including my unreasonably large selection of jangly hexes. She was suitably impressed, but dragging everything out of its resting place in a distant drawer in the attic made me feel rather melancholy. Like the few times recently when I had instinctively bought new guidebooks only to wonder what I was doing.<br />
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Then, out of the blue. Oli asked me if I was free at the weekend, and somehow I actually was. After pointing out the flaw in his initial suggestion of Shepherd's (being a touch far for a day trip from Sheffield), we arranged to meet in a crag somewhere roughly halfway between our houses. Sadly this is deepest darkest Lancashire, where I have mostly only unhappy memories (being sandbagged at Wilton, being sandbagged at Anglezarke, slicing my hand open on a broken bottle whilst in the midst of being sandbagged at Anglezarke, getting rained on at Egerton before having had the opportunity to get sandbagged etc.). But there was a new guidebook, with pretty pictures. I had a root through this and chose Round Barn Quarry as having the perfect combination of a) shelter from the forecast strong winds and b) low grade ticklist routes. Plus, new crag points.<br />
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So we went there. It was sheltered and sunny. And a bit scrappy. But Oli and I are no strangers to slightly shit routes, so we didn't let that put us off. As neither of us could remember whose lead it was, we tossed a coin for it and I won the honour. So I racked up and set off up a 6 metre Diff. EPIC<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskQTH2ERKzPqfwasKE8UZ_vFerndv9iI7gPirS17XExxTg8A5iGiNrVnItzcF1idP0sXMsvnbOm1ucfP0F0HvgpBOFujAi-zmXKi3FIFRUdWlwjxFUVDRTCcsSysrE_H010CKjPa-tvAv/s1600/IMG_2145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiskQTH2ERKzPqfwasKE8UZ_vFerndv9iI7gPirS17XExxTg8A5iGiNrVnItzcF1idP0sXMsvnbOm1ucfP0F0HvgpBOFujAi-zmXKi3FIFRUdWlwjxFUVDRTCcsSysrE_H010CKjPa-tvAv/s320/IMG_2145.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The inimitable Round Barns Quarry</td></tr>
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It was actually OK. It even had one nice move on it. Then Oli upped the ante with a Severe. Phew. I matched his feat with another, actually quite good Severe, before Oli went nuts and set off up a VS. The gods punished him for his insolence, and it was really hard. And steep. Probably about E3 in real terms (allowing for the deflation in my arms).</div>
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At this stage we were joined in the quarry by a group of 4 other climbers. They turned out to be local legends Les Ainsworth, Dave Cronshaw and friends, the authors of the new guide and putter uppers of many a new route in the dingy quarries of Lancashire. They seemed slightly bemused that someone from Sheffield and someone from Cumbria had driven all this way to climb at Round Barn. It was fun to hang out with them for a bit though. Dave was repeating a couple of new routes he'd put up the other week with great ease, while the others made them look somewhat harder on second. They provided a handy mixture of heckling and beta while I made extremely hard work of another (rather sandbaggy) Severe, before providing Oli with an ethically dubious but very welcome belayed runner (AKA a mobile toprope) as he quested up the rather bold and scary top half of a VS.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The venerable Dave Cronshaw on Dharma Bums, a new HVS(ish)</td></tr>
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All told, it was quite a successful day. We only actually did about 50 metres of climbing, but being old, I ache like an absolute bastard for it today. I climbed my 999th route from the ticklist, so I should probably try and do something good for the 1000th. Who knows when that might be. Maybe some time in 2018...Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-34662503288292499082014-04-11T15:45:00.000-07:002014-04-11T15:45:16.239-07:00Strange Goings On in SheffieldSeems like a long time since I posted anything here. Probably something to do with the total dearth of climbing that's been going on in my life since I got back from Red Rocks. This is in return not unrelated to the fact that my girlfriend is pregnant and we're expecting the arrival of a squalling bundle of joy at some point in late June. At the same time, and for reasons which are still not entirely clear to me, I've signed up to do the Fred Whitton (that's 111 miles of very hilly cycling around the Lake District in early May, if you feel like sponsoring me you can do that <a href="http://www.justgiving.com/Colin-Angus/?utm_source=Facebook&utm_medium=fundraisingpage&utm_content=Colin-Angus&utm_campaign=pfp-share">here</a>). So, what free time I have has been somewhat taken up with poncing around in lycra masochistically cycling up hills. For fun. Oh yes. I am well aware that this is sick and wrong, but it's too late to back out now...<br />
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Anyway, I could write a long and rambling blog post about impending fatherhood, or the secret joys of clawing your way up Hardknott on a bike in the pissing rain. But that doesn't really feel appropriate somehow. The good news is that I have actually managed to climb some rocks recently. Huzzah. Twice even. How did this come to pass in between exciting bouts of nursery painting, buggy shopping, shed creosoting and hill reps on Blake Street? Well...<br />
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As is fast becoming traditional, Mr Pooler and I had concocted a plan to go to Scotland and climb some mountains, only to be confronted a few days before by an apocalyptic weather forecast. So we made a new plan to go to Wales and finish off Alistair's round of the Welsh Nuttalls (that's a class of hills over 2000ft popular amongst inveterate tedious peak baggers like Mr Pooler and I). As part of this plan we found ourselves nipping up the north ridge of Tryfan for old time's sake. Some years ago Oli and I (and a team of willing idiots) had attempted to climb a Diff called Anniversary Approach on the scrappy ground at the bottom of the north ridge, but had run away in the face of pouring rain and general misery, so this seemed like a good opportunity to both right a wrong and climb some rocks. After some adventurous-feeling questing up a good old fashioned chimney I found myself marooned atop a large flake. The guidebook suggested I wander rightwards for a bit, stride across a gap and scramble to glory. That way lay vertical heather and certain death, so I found myself freestyling into the unknown. Luckily for me there was just enough solid rock amongst the precipitous vegetation and I eventually found my way back to the beaten track, suitably chastened. Who'd have thought an unstarred Diff might not have been that well travelled? Hmmm.<br />
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Anyway, fast forward a month or so to the last few days. After a morning spent diligently entertaining his 2 year old son with trains and ducks, Oli and I had built up enough brownie points with our respective partners to sneak out for a few hours. We consulted several guidebooks and eventually decided to eschew the esoteric delights of overgrown and fally-downy Lancashire limestone for some proper rock in Langdale. After a brief examination of a few damp, rubbish-looking, or damp and rubbish-looking routes we found ourselves below the left-hand end of East Raven Crag. Many, many years ago (more than I care to remember), I'd followed my friend Gwilym up a route here, a Severe called Mamba, and it felt like the living end. This time it felt marginally easier, but all of the gear was very confusing and it felt a bit like I was in possession of somebody else's limbs. Still, I got to the top in one piece, so that was a minor victory of sorts. Oli then manned up and tackled the VS direct version, which was good fun. With a narrowing window of opportunity before we had to head back to the girls, I then raced (or at least, attempted to race) up a recently discovered HS at the right-hand end of the main Raven Crag. It showed its youth a bit, with a fair few snappy holds, but it was a good line and it'll clean up to make a really cracking pitch. All in all, a good reminder of what this trad lark is all about. Hopefully I can manage to find time in my life over the rest of the year to keep my eye in a bit. We shall see...<br />
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PS Sorry, I was so busy marvelling at the novelty of actually climbing something that I failed entirely to take any pretty pictures. Sadface.Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-26062712766639174272013-11-09T16:07:00.000-08:002013-11-09T16:07:05.953-08:00The Finest Bimbling The World Has To Offer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Las Vegas baby. Sin city. Home of gambling, opulence, gluttony, madness and world class mid grade climbing. No, really. Just 20 miles west of the strip lies Red Rocks, a 3000ft thick bed of multicoloured sandstone forming 10 canyons, with 1000s of routes from 30' to 1500' long. The climbing is hugely varied, but tends to be slightly off vertical and even though many routes follow cracks, these tend to be used for gear while face holds provide relief for those not keen on the dark arts of jamming. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not bad for a single pitch, roadside crag.</td></tr>
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Simon, Claire, Daniel P Money and I headed out there for the last two weeks in October, which is the perfect time for a visit. The weather is stable (being a desert and that), you can climb in the sun on the cooler days and in the shade on the warmer days (if you're organised). Most of the routes are accessed from a loop road which is only open from 6am-7pm (closing time comes down to 5pm come the start of November), which ties in rather neatly with daylight hours. Walk ins vary from 5 minutes to 3 hours, but are usually around 30-60 minutes. Most of the longer routes have bolted belays and abseil descents (often back down the route for maximum clusterfuck potential), although some have scrambly descents through cactus and prickly brush. Lovely.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fold Out on The Necromancer - great route, great name for a crag</td></tr>
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The rock is almost always excellent, although a lot of the holds make slightly perturbing noises if you hit them. The best approach is just not to hit them, we found. The different colours of rock offer generally different climbing styles, but the character of even the same colour rock can vary significantly from pitch to pitch. Dream of Wild Turkeys on the aptly named Black Velvet Wall offers 6 consecutive pitches of HVS-E1 climbing with each one having a very distinct character from crimping on tiny holds to squirming up wide cracks via delicate smearing. Perhaps the weirdest rock we found was on the second pitch of a brilliant 5.8 called Lotta Balls, which was an otherwise smooth wall covered in stuck-on marbles. Progress was made (excitingly) by standing on these balls, crimping the same balls, and generally thinking non-snappy thoughts.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpv9liL9elJZTnY13yY0D28kFNcHxCLW0BWEtQOFjC1OX2Ef7dxMC4i1qMTJdGlCGx6MSCkV7xcv6OliJtL9k16eFDw9OovoiGPiNcYN2QmotsMhji76cM8JFpXTGLlwX0EGEkwabhpUNF/s1600/054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpv9liL9elJZTnY13yY0D28kFNcHxCLW0BWEtQOFjC1OX2Ef7dxMC4i1qMTJdGlCGx6MSCkV7xcv6OliJtL9k16eFDw9OovoiGPiNcYN2QmotsMhji76cM8JFpXTGLlwX0EGEkwabhpUNF/s320/054.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lotta Balls' eponymous balls. Fnar.</td></tr>
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DanDanDan had cunningly sprained his ankle a week or so before we arrived, which made both walking in and climbing rather more taxing than usual, although a winning combination of ibuprofen and strategic rest days meant it didn't impact too severely on his climbing. Other than a rest day on the middle Sunday of the trip I found a willing victim/partner to climb with every day, which was great. Over the 2 weeks I climbed 27 routes, 77 pitches and almost 3km. Yay.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ENIB2JjzoDKjyN_x9Io9sOyX6yberjvZ6JPLRfU0qHS23WCzWmRtPQ4InM5LZgtXpidA-e3AXDIFeLTJP38ys3RlF2pJ17dhJZt-7PlwZX9QGSMH4ose5pYVD5oLM61JtVcLH8xB54M7/s1600/061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ENIB2JjzoDKjyN_x9Io9sOyX6yberjvZ6JPLRfU0qHS23WCzWmRtPQ4InM5LZgtXpidA-e3AXDIFeLTJP38ys3RlF2pJ17dhJZt-7PlwZX9QGSMH4ose5pYVD5oLM61JtVcLH8xB54M7/s320/061.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More top quality nomenclature - this is Rainbow Mountain</td></tr>
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So, what did we actually climb? Well Red Rocks is home to some of the finest multipitch 5.7/5.8 climbing anywhere. That's about VS in real money. In 2 visits there I've now climbed Group Therapy, Tunnel Vision, Birdland, Dark Shadows, Johnny Vegas, Frogland, Crimson Chrysalis, Olive Oil and Black Magic all of which offer over 100m of outstanding VS climbing in beautiful surroundings. And there's plenty more routes to go back for. We spent the first week climbing lots of these as well as a number of outstanding shorter routes - Sensuous Mortician at 5.9 and the aforementioned Lotta Balls 5.8 were particular highlights, but it was all awesome. The only down side was on the Saturday when we tried to avoid the crowds by hiking up to a relatively remote spot to do a route called Black Dagger. Unfortunately being far away from the road and at the end of a rather scrambly path we had to abandon the approach once we realised that we were moving so slowly that we'd never have time to do the route and get back to the car. Whilst this was a shame, because the route and the location looked stunning, being Red Rocks we managed to find ourselves a brilliant little 4 pitch Severe as a consolation prize. And I saw a Golden Eagle. Go me.<div>
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After a rest day of hardcore gambling (I lost a whole $2...), the second week was all about getting up before dawn to go and do big cool stuff. Unfortunately the weather on the Monday was very windy and pretty chilly, so we had to postpone our assault on Crimson Chrysalis until the Tuesday. The wind had died down overnight, but it was still baltic in the shade. At least that meant we had the route to ourselves. This is something of a rarity apparently as it has a reputation for being the best 5.8 route at Red Rocks, which is full of brilliant 5.8s. With 9 pitches of brilliant sustained climbing up a very cool bit of rock it's easy to see why.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_JhHDRGTnABr2rIqJOHkpx6Vgsgr7Ng8_YEfKEOCveOVCDIXU2MtSACv01-4s6DaOjDWd0wRXKSrb5-XFVmdZ4ietfEHM7_97aP4jwDug1QM7VBhBdnrwhPtGFUvQ-Y8CPxyti3FSYtA/s1600/083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_JhHDRGTnABr2rIqJOHkpx6Vgsgr7Ng8_YEfKEOCveOVCDIXU2MtSACv01-4s6DaOjDWd0wRXKSrb5-XFVmdZ4ietfEHM7_97aP4jwDug1QM7VBhBdnrwhPtGFUvQ-Y8CPxyti3FSYtA/s320/083.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warm Claire, happy Claire - chilling out on the belay near the top of Crimson Chrysalis</td></tr>
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After 2 days of freezing in the shade, I was keen to seek out some sunshine. Linking Johnny Vegas, Going Nuts and Solar Slab offered us 1500' of three star climbing in the sun. So Dan and I did that. It was ace. Sarah and I had bailed from the top of the 6th pitch last time after starting a bit late and generally not moving fast enough, but this time we were early and ruthlessly efficient, so we made it up 11 pitches and back down again before it got dark. And we met some charming if utterly mental Californians, one of whom was called Elsworth. Who knew that was even a name?<br />
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The next day was our last opportunity for a big route and there was one route which I'd wanted to climb more than any other during the trip. Being 10 pitches of 5.10a (that's about E1 folks) it was a significant step up in terms of difficulty from anything else we'd climbed, so I'd had my worries that nobody else would want to climb it. Luckily for me Claire was psyched, which was impressive given her previous total number of E1 leads stood at 0. Another pre-dawn start got us to the base of the route with the whole canyon to ourselves. Claire led up the easy first pitch before I got a bit of a rude awakening on the second. With a grade of 5.9 I was expecting something HVS-ish, but this was 40m of proper hard climbing. Brilliant though. I was a bit concerned about the 5.10 pitches above, but after a bit of a wobble on a steep little crack Claire waltzed across the traverse that was supposedly the first crux. The second crux came at the very end of my next pitch, with 40-odd metres of rope out. The crack I'd been climbing petered out and a couple of thin, smeary moves led past a pair of bolts to the belay. I clipped the first bolt and got a quickdraw in the second, but the holds all pointed to wrong way to allow me to pull the rope up to clip it. Then my foot started to slough around inside my shoe on the first thin smears. Eventually I realised that neither of these things was going to improve any time soon, so I tried to put them to the back of my mind and got on with it...<br />
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My luck was in and a few seconds later I clipped the belay with a sense of some relief. I'd brought a spare pair of tighter shoes just in case I needed to stand on anything small, so I deployed these. Even with the 2 5.10a pitches out of the way there was no place for relaxing as the next 3 pitches were all pretty full-on. After getting to the ledge at the top of the 7th pitch from which most people abseil off I was a bit unsure how much I wanted to carry on. My feet were sore and another 2 pitches of 5.9 sounded a lot like hard work, but the day was still fairly young and Claire was keen so we got on with it. I'm glad we did as the top pitches were both great and considerably easier than what had gone before. 1000' of abseiling later and we were back on the ground full of win (and in my case some demented fluorescent seaweed snacks). What a route.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd1wjHfgB6LWHdYlERKg16Asl1YPj-5fbi-pUnZhQ7gYTBWvxF5v-qR2BDIFmWl6heIsnf6P6i9YM4-Ikgi90Jn7_DWD0y7bMQcO_ilBtl2CKV7myfC2kwx-hIkaOcgn3Ot-4bal2HfVqJ/s1600/110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd1wjHfgB6LWHdYlERKg16Asl1YPj-5fbi-pUnZhQ7gYTBWvxF5v-qR2BDIFmWl6heIsnf6P6i9YM4-Ikgi90Jn7_DWD0y7bMQcO_ilBtl2CKV7myfC2kwx-hIkaOcgn3Ot-4bal2HfVqJ/s320/110.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pitch n of Dream of Wild Turkeys (for some large n)</td></tr>
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So, another brilliant trip. America is still utterly nuts and eating healthily is essentially impossible. At one point I almost fell into a diabetic coma in the face of a cheesecake/brownie/chocolate cake confection and my digestive system has only just recovered from all the processed nonsense. Totally worth it though.<br />
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Now, back to the gritstone. Meh.</div>
Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-76196872091867727252013-09-28T07:33:00.002-07:002013-09-28T07:33:37.220-07:00Not Straying Far From The B5289<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The start of last week marked the annual meeting of great minds that is mine and Oli's annual climbing holiday. Sadly a combination of dissertation work and Oli spending most of the summer swanning around the west coast of America meant that it was curtailed to only 3 days in Borrowdale, but there are worse places in the world to be. The weather forecast was fairly obliging, although it was somewhat vague when it came to predicting the cloud level, unhelpfully suggesting somewhere between 200 and 800m, encompassing almost every crag with a greater or lesser degree of probability. Oli had also broken his little toe in a tragic surfing accident a few weeks previously, with an unknown impact on his ability to climb.</div>
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Undeterred by any of this, or a very late start on Monday, we opted for the roadside delights of Shepherd's, the Lakes' answer to Tremadog, where a quick bimble up the surprisingly not totally shit in spite of the polish Brown Slabs Corner confirmed that Oli's toe wasn't too debilitating. So I sent him off up Brown Crag Wall, another ticklist VS, to check he could remember how to lead. Turned out he could. After romping up the actually quite good top pitches, we decided that the other ticklist VS at that end of the crag looked like it was 85% moss, and headed to the CC hut for bangers and mash. And whisky. Far too much whisky.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Would you trust this man?</td></tr>
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Apparently drinking most of a bottle of whisky (a very, very nice 12 year old Hibiki in case you were wondering) leads to some kind of epic hangover. At least it does now that we're old men. Fortuitously Oli had forseen this problem and bought bacon and eggs for breakfast, which improved matters significantly. The cloud was still looming ominously on the hillsides above, so we stumbled back to Shepherd's and decided to ease ourselves into the day with some topological non-triviality on Donkey's Ears. It was ace. Two through routes, a very traditional VDiff thrash and the sun even came out briefly at the top. Lovely. A quick tick of Kransic Crack followed before we felt sufficiently recovered to attempt some kind of silly girdle traversey nonsense. My pitch started up a 4b crack that was suspiciously desperate for 4b, followed by some bold moves up suspect rock with no gear, then a bit of a shuffle leftwards for a few metres and a downclimb to a belay. All very daft. The rest of the route linked pitches of other, proper, climbs, so was altogether more sensible, although Oli found the direct finish to Ardus quite exciting. Apparently back-and-footing is quite painful when you're not wearing a t-shirt. Arf. The day's final route was Shepherd's Chimney, which the guide warns is 'noted for its pitch 3'. In fact it wasn't a chimney, pitch 3 was fine and the unheralded pitch 4 was where the stars were at.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making the prosaic into the EPIC!</td></tr>
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After a day of VSs with not substantial toe-related issues, I persuaded Oli that we should head up to Black Crag the next day for a go at The Mortician and Troutdale Pinnacle Superdirect. So obviously the valley was filled with mist the next morning, making everything a bit wet. Bah. So we went to the still very roadside Quayfoot Buttress, which was still damp, but at least a bit less out of the clouds. Eventually it dried out and we had another good day. The Crypt had a filthy looking first pitch, which we avoided, but the top pitch was good. Morceau had a very ferny looking first pitch, which I didn't avoid and which was actually not that bad, and a brilliant second pitch traversing right across the headwall (not one for a busy day). The Mound was a lot better than it looked (just as well) and Mandrake was still as classic as ever. Bo. Then it was home time. Next time, we'll hopefully be allowed to venture further than 100 yards from the main road...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deutsche leaf</td></tr>
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<br />Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-70844586582011941362013-09-22T05:26:00.000-07:002013-09-22T05:26:05.480-07:00Banned Crags, Esoteric Rambling & The Joy Of NostarsI'm never very useful when it comes to deciding which eastern grit crag to go to - I've climbed so much that most of the things I have left to do are either perma-green or will involve trying hard, and I hate going to a crag having tacitly committed to trying hard. Luckily I have a near infinite capacity for having a good time climbing unstarred nonsense eliminates. And so, when J-Rowe, Kyle, Joswald, Stacey, Chris and I headed up to the Popular End of Stanage last weekend, the piratical Mr Rowe and I decided to spend the day climbing obscure no-star VSs (whilst Kyle and Oswald backed off all of the routes. ALL OF THEM). In spite of the midges, occasional greenery and a few cases of having to avoid the obvious holds because they weren't 'in', we had a pretty good day. It's been a long time since I climbed anything on grit, so it was good to ease myself back into things too. It's much knackier than other rock types, and going well on anything else doesn't really translate to any kind of ability on grit. Sadly. Although that is part of its charm. That and the glorious man-eating jams that no other rock does quite so seductively...<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kyle sticking it to Agony Crack</td></tr>
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With Friday off and a good forecast, Sophie and I hatched a plan to go and climb some rocks. After some dithering over venue (again) we ended up at Wharncliffe, a crag I often forget exists. It's a funny spot, with it's industrial-feeling outlook, positive holds, often dodgy gear and occasional gigantic loose blocks at the top (and bottom) of the crag. We initially stuck to the good stuff and ticked all the 3-star routes at the crag below E4. Admittedly this was only 3 routes, but they were all good, even if Great Buttress Arete was neither hard nor bold as had been promised. We then went for an explore of the distant southern reaches of the crag, where the buttresses become more shy and retiring among the trees. We found a lot of verdant rock, some good looking (if damp) lines and some funky bouldering, including a pleasant little VS arete that we both soloed. The sun had even come out by then. Marvellous. There's even a few ticklist routes down there to do next time we get a dry spell.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soph bimbling up some Wharncliffe esoterica</td></tr>
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Inspired by this exploratory venture, Adam and I headed south yesterday in search of some adventures in the southern Peak. The first stop was Stone Crag, an obscure buttress just north of the Amber valley, which is hidden in some trees next to the road. The guidebook suggests that it is definitely on private land, so to keep a low profile, and the keep out signs and barbed wire definitely reinforced the feeling that we weren't welcome. The rock was a bit scruffy, but good fun, with the highlight being a very pleasant little E1 called Stoned that we both soloed (the crux being exercising the mental fortitude to avoid the massive crack right next to the crux).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adam throwing shapes on Stoned</td></tr>
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So, after one banned crag, the obvious thing to do next was to visit Eastwood Rocks, 'The best banned crag in the Peak'. Apparently evictions by the landowner are not infrequent, but plenty of people still manage to climb there. We left the gear in the car and went for a flying visit with just our rock shoes and the guide. A lengthy creep through very rustly bracken and brambles we found the crag. It's a beauty. A bit steep like, but the rock's great and there's some cracking lines. Corpse Crack looks a bit like a refugee from Ramshaw and the hard routes through the roofs look very impressive. We tiptoed along to the far end of the crag, where a 2-star Diff girdle and a 3-star through route awaited us. They were both fairly unique, particularly the squeezy through route (beta alert - the crux is avoiding chafing your left nipple on the overlap near the entrance!) and well worth the effort. I'm very keen to go back with a rope, although I doubt that visiting once the leaves are off the trees is a very good idea. Maybe next spring.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The man-eating Nod's Cave</td></tr>
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Having had our fill of forbidden crags, but not esoterica with knobs on, we headed down to Chasecliffe, near Crich. A single buttress squirreled away at the bottom of a field, with a ticklist HS and a lovely outlook over the Derwent valley. The routes were good fun and a decent length and it was all very pleasant. It was also a bit of a relief not to be worrying about getting kicked off by a grumpy farmer with a shotgun.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lazy Groove at Chasecliffe</td></tr>
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We finished the day with a visit to the far end of Baslow. Esoteric by normal eastern grit standards, but much more frequented than any of our previous venues. Hell, there were even other people there. I had an appointment with a ticklist VS first put up by a certain Don Whillans. How hard can 6m of climbing be? Quite hard it turns out. No brutal cracks, just some oomph required (and a slightly desperate slap for the top in my case). I then got gripped soloing some slabby VSs I've soloed before, before we found the last ticklist route on the crag, a delightful gopping wet VDiff chimney which was actually quite fun. Another spot to come back to after a dry spell, as there were some pretty good lines (including a terrifying overhanging HVS jamming crack) waiting to dry out.<br />
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After all this exploratory silliness I'm feeling a lot more positive about gritstone again. I don't think I'll ever forgive it for the fact that it has HVSs that would probably kill me as soon as look at me, but the fact that after the best part of 2,000 routes there are still plenty of undiscovered gems lurking about the place means that it'll be a while yet before I get sick of it and have to learn to love Peak limestone (ugh). I am looking forwards to a few days climbing proper rock with actual holds in the Lakes though.Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-17118396979615601602013-08-24T16:21:00.000-07:002013-08-24T16:21:44.359-07:00Questing for Extremes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After returning to the right country (via the Alps, where I cycled up a big hill and saw some marmots), I spent a whole 2 hours at home before setting off westwards in yet another hired Panda. I collected l'Oswald and Julie en route and we made for the vast and slightly baffling Valley of the Rocks campsite near Holyhead, where we met up with Clurrr. The morning was dry and even a bit sunny, so we headed for South Stack and James and I abseiled into Castell Helen while the girls headed for Gogarth on Main Cliff. For a while I'd had this idea that the first pitch of Atlantis (a big 5a corner pitch, mmm) followed by the top pitch of North West Passage would make for a good combination, being rather more direct than most of the actual routes thereabouts. So that was what we did, and it was ace.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pitch 1 of Atlantis. Not very hard, but very good.</td></tr>
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Whilst we had the abseil rope there, we nipped back down so I could lead the big HVS pitch of Lighthouse Arete Direct/Blanco. It was very cool. A bit of slabby bambering, some funky steep bridging through an overlap, then a steep, bold finish pulling round a roof on huge weirdy quartz holds. We celebrated with a cuppa in the cafe, before deciding that it definitely wasn't too late to do a route at the other end of Main Cliff. Oh no. On the way over we passed the girls who had had so much fun on Gogarth that they decided not to do another route. It was both of our first venture beyond the very start of the approach traverse along the bottom of the crag, so it was just as well the tide was out and there was no swell so it all felt very non-serious. The lateness of the hour meant I couldn't stop for much sightseeing on the way, but we passed underneath a lot of impressive looking lines, whatever they were.<br />
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Eventually we arrived at a small pedestal that marked the start of Scavenger, our intended route. It had been top of my wishlist for a very long time, but some combination of time, tides and weather had always conspired to keep me away from it, so I wasn't going to let the incipient darkness spoil my fun. Oswald bimbled up the steeper than it looks starting crack and when I joined him I was surprised by just how tricky the start looked. Still, no time for dithering, so I grabbed the gear and got on with it. It turned out that it was quite tricky - thin bridging on small sloping edges - but big holds soon arrived. The really good stuff, however, was the next corner over. A short traverse past some monster pegs led to a steep, imposing corner filled with jugs and awesomeness. Ace. There was still plenty of daylight left when I reached the top, although Oswald did his best to find an epic all the same by eschewing the normal finishing chimney and instead opting for a never-travelled green, snappy offwidth of peril. Classic.<br />
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After some overnight rain the next day was dry again, so back to Gogarth we went. With an embarrassment of HVS riches, Wen slab seemed like a good place to go, although when we arrived there were 2 parties somehow managing to fill all of the routes. So we snuck up Dde, on the right side of the slab, which was fun, but too easy to be HVS. When we abseiled back down everybody was engaged in various stages of Dream of White Horses, so Wen, Concrete Chimney and Quartz Icicle were all free. I started off towards Concrete Chimney, having heard it was the best HVS on the slab, but James started heckling me to do Quartz Icicle instead. It did look good, and it was a slab, but having led no E1s all year, jumping on an E2 seemed a bit bold. I eventually resolved to 'have a look' and I was soon committed. Oops. About half way through the pitch the handholds suddenly got bigger and I assumed it was all over. I was wrong. I even managed to get a little bit pumped. On a slab. I got there in the end though. James led the original finish, which was actually quite good.<br />
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Sadly after that it was time to go, but I was back again the next day, having swapped Julie and James for young master Hobson. Andy was dead keen for The Moon and for some reason I let him talk me into it in spite of having previously climbed a single E3, and that certainly didn't involve any ultra-committing traversing above overhangs. Andy read John Cox's classic description of how to retreat from the crux pitch (involving many, many abseils, some swimming, and a solo of Lighthouse Arete) to get me more psyched. It didn't work. I spent a long time sitting at the bottom of the abseil in, fettling my prusiks and getting ready to use them in anger. The first, 4c pitch, did little to assuage my fears, with 5a monkeying around on steep ground above a single shonky wire, so I didn't fall off.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andy spacewalking on The Moon</td></tr>
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The belay felt like a very lonely place to be, especially once Andy had disappeared from view. Seeing the ropes dangling into space miles away as Andy flaked them over the next belay once he'd reached it didn't help either. As it happened the crux moves felt fairly steady, but the ground after them felt steep, and Andy laughed as I appeared round the corner, eyes on stalks, grasping desperately for holds. Mercifully they appeared, and I even found a rest, which allowed me to enjoy the ludicrous exposure of the rest of the pitch. The belay was a fairly mind-bending place to be, with roofs in seemingly every direction, as though the whole crag overhung in 4 dimensions. The last pitch traversed out before pulling steeply into a slanting groove and following this to the top in a truly incredible position. I did get quite pumped (again) and was quite grateful for the 3 pegs which I could pretend were good (they weren't) and plough on above, rather than stopping to place a proper runner and getting totally boxed in doing so. There's so much space below your feet by that stage that a fall would be totally safe, albeit it utterly terrifying, even if the pegs failed. The first proper runner after them was a very welcome relief. What a pitch. What a route. Maybe not quite the best one in the world, but not too far away.<br />
<br />
After yet another cup of tea in the cafe, we ventured over to Red Walls, where I had an appointment with Anarchist, apparently a kind of 'Red Wall light' experience. The gear for the lower section was a bit sub-optimal, but the climbing was easy (once I'd stopped arsing up the sequence for the initial traverse), and I soon had the gigantic shiny peg clipped. I nearly fell off above this after muffing another sequence, but held it together and was soon desperately shovelling myself onto the belay ledge with no elegance but a big grin on my face. A very cool route, and we got a great view of some guys on Redshift, which looked like a whole different kettle of (very cool but quite exciting) fish.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxJdupuVOuI1DQLeQQPkpnogJrF3391U2VHldyz_McO_tewU63037ILQ7HunkOy7ggg7v7bEbklQgWHLWugYhG7ogKbD0QFA049KYjk6mLiRFNrpkYR3ou9AGShdEhfhWiQ7bFjp6Hw1_/s1600/165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxJdupuVOuI1DQLeQQPkpnogJrF3391U2VHldyz_McO_tewU63037ILQ7HunkOy7ggg7v7bEbklQgWHLWugYhG7ogKbD0QFA049KYjk6mLiRFNrpkYR3ou9AGShdEhfhWiQ7bFjp6Hw1_/s320/165.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An anarchist on Anarchist</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Keen to climb some more weird red nonsense we headed to Rhoscolyn the next day. Conditions were a bit greasy when we first arrived, but they soon improved. The Savage Sunbird was pretty sustained and required a cool head from Andy to deal with the slightly uninspiring gear. By contrast Wild Rover was steady and pretty soft for the grade. Really pleasant slabby crimping up hidden holds all the way. Probably best not to fall off the start though. We finished the day with The Sun (well, after The Moon yesterday we had to really). It looked steep and Andy took a long time to lead it, even downclimbing the crux at one point, which was a pretty good effort. A tricky pull into the groove itself led immediately to a pumpy section, then a good rest before the crux, which looked innocuous enough, but felt hard and steep enough when I was on it. Another cracking route and my arms were feeling pretty battered by this stage<br />
<br />
We woke up the next day to rain and an uninspiring forecast, so we drove South. Slowly. Very slowly. It seems they're digging up all of the roads in Wales. Bah. Eventually we reached Carreg-y-Barcud, where it had stopped raining and looked to be brightening up a bit. I decided to test out some new shoes on an E1, which was a terrible idea. It turns out I can't stand on anything small with the toes of them, so it was very fortunate that all the holds were quite wide (if very small) so I could stick the edge of my foot on them instead. Not a very enjoyable experience. I switched back to some sensible shoes after that and the next couple of routes (including the oddly named Be Brave, which boasts more runners than most of the other routes on the slab) were a whole lot easier. Then Andy manned up for a go at Kitten Claws, the classic E3 of the crag. There was some serious crimping required on some spectacularly small holds. Painful.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8erjEU7OX-04-npGRczRDIUw4n_HdOU1GntUMVkHx43KE-NEpLKMDH267jYR5z_G8JGnXRJ2DUczsfJUcb7XTAUIfY0BGGJZU779kIYMHn5SV6a7EICMAVnGH4CxJ2P90DmyzWEwHdiD/s1600/187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE8erjEU7OX-04-npGRczRDIUw4n_HdOU1GntUMVkHx43KE-NEpLKMDH267jYR5z_G8JGnXRJ2DUczsfJUcb7XTAUIfY0BGGJZU779kIYMHn5SV6a7EICMAVnGH4CxJ2P90DmyzWEwHdiD/s320/187.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Generic awesome crimpy Barcud slab</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The following day was rainy again. After an abortive morning attempt to climb we headed back to St Govan's in the late afternoon. I'd realised that neither of us had led anything sub extreme all week, so felt compelled to keep this up. I was under the impression that The Arrow was dead soft as long as you didn't fall off the start, so gave that a whirl. Conditions were awful, so the greasy start felt very hard indeed, but I assumed things would ease up once I reached the crack. I felt quite aggrieved when it didn't and I had to try quite hard not to fall off. It's probably a nice route if the holds aren't covered in butter and you aren't expecting a ladder of jugs...<br />
<br />
Sunshine the next day brought slightly better conditions, although it was really a bit warm for comfort. I kicked things off with a romp up Cool For Cats, which wasn't as steep as I'd feared, but was really good, with interest maintained right to the top. Next up was a rematch for Andy with First Blood, which didn't end well, so I bimbled up a very soft E1 next to it, before falling my way up The Butcher on second. A good reminder that no amount of technical chicanery can make steep routes feel easy. And that I need to acquire some better arms from somewhere. I rounded things off by heading back to St Govan's East and wombling up Whispering Wind, which had a fiercer crux than I was expecting.<br />
<br />
Another day of rain blew over and we were gifted with absolutely glorious conditions on our final day. With quite a swell running, and an incoming tide we headed for the not-very-tidal delights of the Keelhaul slab. Andy led the eponymous route, which was very nice before I set off up Baker's Door, a route Andy had backed off a few years ago. Conditions were much better this time, so it went fairly smoothly, although it nearly went a bit wrong near the top when a large foothold decided to part company with the crag whilst I was stood on it. We finished our trip with Andy cruising his way up Pleasure Dome, which was a lot more than can be said for my inglorious failure to second it with any modicum of style. Or not falling off.<br />
<br />
So, a very successful week all told. 15 E-points and a load of routes I've wanted to do for ages. I'm really psyched for a return to Barcud, and maybe the rest of Pembroke once I've got some proper arms. Hmm.Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-74215530534816593562013-08-21T16:31:00.001-07:002013-08-21T16:31:07.295-07:00Pfalzing AroundA few weeks ago I found myself heading to Manchester airport to meet<a href="http://fiendophobia.blogspot.co.uk/"> Mr Fiendypops</a> for a trip to the Pfalz in western Germany. Normally before I go anywhere I spend hours poring over the guidebook, but I didn't have a guide to pore over. In fact I'd never even seen the guidebook, or met anybody who'd been there and the internet wasn't much help. All I knew was this it was made of sandstone, there were some bolts, and Matt was syked. Oh, and the use of chalk was banned on routes below UIAA grade 7 (about E2/F6bish). And it was going to be hot. Like 35 degrees hot. Hmmm.<br />
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It turns out that the Pfalz is an area of beautiful wooded hills covered in weird collections of sandstone towers and ridges. The routes are between 15 and 70m long and vary from entirely trad to slightly sparsely bolted sport (although not dangerously so, as long as you don't fall off making the first clip), with most routes falling somewhere in between. The rock is good, with lots of enormous gear-swallowing cracks, massive open book corners, mega-chimneys, giganto-bunter pebbles, cool honeycombed pockets and enormo-roofs.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2V_sq-dY469wG9eAcZps1xTm1ADSJJWIOZ9muTaZ7_7CLD3BHeabHTCi3n7IVXZSSLv-FNNZBQNS-muPz9n42W1I-c4xYC687v_bAXeoWbBNmIkyTPE4NdjpgdMnr0A0irLrHUCZNX2p/s1600/073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx2V_sq-dY469wG9eAcZps1xTm1ADSJJWIOZ9muTaZ7_7CLD3BHeabHTCi3n7IVXZSSLv-FNNZBQNS-muPz9n42W1I-c4xYC687v_bAXeoWbBNmIkyTPE4NdjpgdMnr0A0irLrHUCZNX2p/s320/073.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A 40m gently overhanging honeycombed wall with F6c-ish sport routes next to a 50m HVS mega-corner. Something for all the family.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So, the crags are cool, and there are loads of them. We visited 21 separate crags over 10 days and they were all pretty ace. The weather was mostly baking, but it was relatively easy to find shade with a bit of strategic crag selection. Most days it was still baking in the shade, but a little cunning application of midday lazing around, mini golf and the air-conditioning in our amazing Panda of win saw us through. There were relatively few other climbers around, but those that were climbing appeared to be paying scant regard to the chalk ban, and almost every route across the grades had some evidence of chalk on it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2S5Onu-rzUod4B2nBZt7OgifIiCZg2LD3oCvy2hViVzHdH4GII8CQtWIFE6KWL1Wyi-knGDbunCkUKnZFMdurUvMB1hDjPsEHcGUaWbVXxqrCh-55fg1B7-hbYskKcPWQVGpQWaiJSMK/s1600/105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2S5Onu-rzUod4B2nBZt7OgifIiCZg2LD3oCvy2hViVzHdH4GII8CQtWIFE6KWL1Wyi-knGDbunCkUKnZFMdurUvMB1hDjPsEHcGUaWbVXxqrCh-55fg1B7-hbYskKcPWQVGpQWaiJSMK/s320/105.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laemmerfelsen - just your common or garden craglet...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPSb-oyVifi-2wbUlCdLOMBMFHqscnM_5hRgmX9e8F_3KL-JKxCgDagp5EHHIABzZ6-Jupcowl9iHJfyk11cR1JC3xeAJrnCZ1NlZdJoTVAecCldVHWWjVYeLYCDNmWbC1Lk_PoJqMSaLD/s1600/137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPSb-oyVifi-2wbUlCdLOMBMFHqscnM_5hRgmX9e8F_3KL-JKxCgDagp5EHHIABzZ6-Jupcowl9iHJfyk11cR1JC3xeAJrnCZ1NlZdJoTVAecCldVHWWjVYeLYCDNmWbC1Lk_PoJqMSaLD/s320/137.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grrrr...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16L3fkOe8DtERXrxIeITlmg7lFhTdpyAfNiuikresVBrd7dQrc53DoC20CtoetC81vaaVEZ2HRkc_g-09djfOXgCXaltyBceMWYxUW7FyU5Ww2XloJvVbC-WB9bhyphenhyphenJB6Jp2ymogsLFAtD/s1600/120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj16L3fkOe8DtERXrxIeITlmg7lFhTdpyAfNiuikresVBrd7dQrc53DoC20CtoetC81vaaVEZ2HRkc_g-09djfOXgCXaltyBceMWYxUW7FyU5Ww2XloJvVbC-WB9bhyphenhyphenJB6Jp2ymogsLFAtD/s320/120.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing on this was rather worrying...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Other than the temperature, the whole trip was pretty awesome. I climbed loads of classic routes, across the grades from Mod - E1ish. Particular highlights were the massive 50m VS/HVS corners and the Hen Cloud-esque E0 cracks, as well as a spectacular 3 pitch VDiff which involved burrowing through 2 separate holes and graunching along a 20m stomach traverse half way up the crag, and a Namenlos-like slab which featured a funky cross-through move onto a mono behind a pebble. Mentile. Bonus interest was added by the fact that several of the crags used to house castles. This manifested itself in random staircases in unexpected places (in chimneys, part way up routes...) which you don't get at Stanage. And climbing on crags with otherwise inaccessible summits (especially ones which overhang their base on all sides) is very cool.<br />
So, it's amazing, you should go there. Perhaps not in the middle of a heatwave though. Some of the harder crags stay dry in the rain, so you should be able to get something done even if the weather's cack. One crag even has a classic perma-dry VS girdle traverse. If you like climbing striking lines up funky towers, then it's for you. It probably helps to like climbing cracks (and chimneys in the lower grades), but even the crackophobic could find plenty to amuse themselves I'm sure.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8a8n0vhfzb6imC-BY2_w41yK4w094zEiTX1CUBLz0tIx4soOPnuzieAJA4JZGdZtWyJYeXZYPDnQpybRTLi2r7FLUa3eOSxdKJv29sIiL5JLQ2lXNbsFf_wfS5olQGbeLm6POGxbIaTH/s1600/069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8a8n0vhfzb6imC-BY2_w41yK4w094zEiTX1CUBLz0tIx4soOPnuzieAJA4JZGdZtWyJYeXZYPDnQpybRTLi2r7FLUa3eOSxdKJv29sIiL5JLQ2lXNbsFf_wfS5olQGbeLm6POGxbIaTH/s320/069.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you can climb UIAA 8 then the centre of this buttress is a bit of a line to aspire to. It's rather aptly named Superlative and apparently some chap called Gullich thought it was quite good.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnU2j_zISF6jcjzmnz-3QeOffxu5J4PkyIefnzhqCnioIy-sY5fs10J5B555JC6fLM1lV7jgpJQMklupaw1bQRbTBl6AEN-2B5XvOnDpVo82JytBVeItePtDOsFQYpfomFsLx8G-lKzpn2/s1600/144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnU2j_zISF6jcjzmnz-3QeOffxu5J4PkyIefnzhqCnioIy-sY5fs10J5B555JC6fLM1lV7jgpJQMklupaw1bQRbTBl6AEN-2B5XvOnDpVo82JytBVeItePtDOsFQYpfomFsLx8G-lKzpn2/s320/144.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reassuringly chunky, but rather antiquated feeling, most of the older bolts (on the easier routes) looked like this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<u></u><br />
<u>Useful Stuff</u></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>We flew to Basel, which was 2 1/2 hours drive away. Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Strasbourg and Cologne would all be reasonable alternatives to fly to.</li>
<li>We stayed at the improbably named Buttelwoog campsite just south of Dahn, which was well-appointed, including a restaurant that served really good pizza, schnitzels and beer until 10pm every evening. It cost about 9 Euros per person per night. </li>
<li>There's a good climbing shop at the <a href="http://www.baerenbrunnerhof.de/">Baerenbrunnerhof</a> (as well as a cheaper, more basic campsite) where you can buy the guide and anything you might have forgotten (including chalk).</li>
<li>Take a full rack of quickdraws (including some slingdraws), a single set of nuts, a full set of cams including doubles in the larger sizes (camalot 1 upwards) if you can. Some large hexes would be useful too. Oh, and plenty of skinny slings for weird little threads.</li>
<li>A 50m single rope would be fine for most routes, although getting off some of the larger towers could be quite faffy. We took a skinny single and a half rope (both 50m), which worked really well.</li>
<li>Most of the crags are really close to the road (under 10 minutes walk on generally good paths). A vague understanding of German would be useful for locating the crags, but following your nose would probably work well enough most of the time.<!--10--></li>
<li>The guide gives advice on crucial gear where needed, particularly on the more sport-style routes where you might want to bring a cam or two with you to supplement the bolts.</li>
<li>Some crags may be bird banned from February-July, although I'm not sure how you find out whether the bans are actually in force.</li>
<li>There are several supermarkets in Dahn, all closed on Sunday, although the bakery next to the one on the west side of town is open on Sunday morning. It also sells the tastiest pastries and is staffed by a higher calibre of pretzel wenches than other bakeries.</li>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99lYcNWug3pumZeY7n5F8NyWpOG7SU_KjPz-s8sqm9pjJbGQBJg8U337hmRrZYvesA4hULFHVeY89hyphenhyphenzyCKhyphenhyphenRHhY0jnDnB7GQCidCZUCEbitS8_VNl9Z1dRm8VkMJpgh28__f5YCQjN_/s1600/133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99lYcNWug3pumZeY7n5F8NyWpOG7SU_KjPz-s8sqm9pjJbGQBJg8U337hmRrZYvesA4hULFHVeY89hyphenhyphenzyCKhyphenhyphenRHhY0jnDnB7GQCidCZUCEbitS8_VNl9Z1dRm8VkMJpgh28__f5YCQjN_/s320/133.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mega-chimney. About 50 yards from the campsite. Yasss.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-41188111263949886412013-07-08T14:22:00.001-07:002013-07-08T14:22:53.521-07:00Clogwin<div class="MsoNormal">
Ever since visiting Fairhead a few years ago, Cloggy has
been top of my unrequited craglust list. Given the length of time I’ve been
climbing, it was an obvious glaring omission, but every opportunity I had to go
there, it was wet, and every time it was dry I was busy doing something else
unavoidable. Perhaps I should have just taken the Dai Lampard approach and
phoned work to say “I’m sorry, I can’t come in, I just have to climb on Cloggy
today”. Anyway, this weekend the stars finally aligned, and at 5am on Saturday
I crawled out of bed and headed west, stopping only to pick up LJ from Stockport.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dlNYrbV3SsShKXYjXowfSyk43rwp9AyCQRseEj8GmLj6PDxD2_xc78XopZH58ms62yfI804F45uIF9Qusx6PWxyl40DWAQJR5BYnjTmGc892aCjP2U60RwXms441nhLzFGx2CnxBuV47/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dlNYrbV3SsShKXYjXowfSyk43rwp9AyCQRseEj8GmLj6PDxD2_xc78XopZH58ms62yfI804F45uIF9Qusx6PWxyl40DWAQJR5BYnjTmGc892aCjP2U60RwXms441nhLzFGx2CnxBuV47/s320/015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
It was lunchtime by the time we’d driven over, stomped up
the Llanberis path in the baking heat and had out first eyeful of the crag. I’d
only ever seen it before from afar and in pictures, but wow, what a crag. More
great lines than you can shake a stick at, with enough dark, dank crevices to
maintain an air of silent menace. There were 5 or 6 other parties at the crag,
all of whom seemed to be on the Great Slab/Bow-Shaped Slab link up, so we left
them to their devices and scrambled round to the start of Longland’s Climb, a
three star VS. after a hard, bold and slightly damp start, 3 pitches of
pleasant slabby climbing deposited us below “The Overhang”, the aptly-named
crux. Good but spaced holds were promised, so after some faffery I applied a
bit of faith and groped inelegantly upward for jugs and glory. The temperature
on the crag had been pleasantly cool, so it was a bit of a shock to scramble up
to the ridge and suddenly be struck by the heat. Glad we weren’t climbing in
the sunshine (and it’s not often you can say that in the UK).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
By the time we scrambled down Eastern Terrace the crowds had
dispersed, so we jumped straight on Great/Bow and were rewarded with 5 pitches
of outstanding climbing. Every pitch was better than any of the pitches on
Longland’s (and that had been far from bad). The crux is a traverse which is
either a safe but tough swing along a break with little for your feet, or a
bold but easier teeter along the same break. I was all for teetering, but James
had led the hard way, so I had to follow the gear. It felt pretty stout to me,
especially when I misjudged the length of one of the moves and failed to take
out one of the runners until I’d climbed too far past it to reach it. After
much huffing, puffing and sketchy reversing I managed to flick it out and
scuttle back left. Whew. The sun came round onto the slab by the 4<sup>th</sup>
pitch, which was quite pleasant, but it brought the midges with it, which was
less so. Not enough to detract from the climbing though. Totes amazeballs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihEtcqjJczaFABAImAK9vKwN9pMq-lXtxwb-yV-WV908D3pARgCWzkucGwyMZ66d38oPwFLFEoOlH6D6SOSTbrPkzfIuEFfQLpkDM1cnMexTKu9nc-5cTT8J5ke6Q5tH-oREcmrIVAPwuW/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihEtcqjJczaFABAImAK9vKwN9pMq-lXtxwb-yV-WV908D3pARgCWzkucGwyMZ66d38oPwFLFEoOlH6D6SOSTbrPkzfIuEFfQLpkDM1cnMexTKu9nc-5cTT8J5ke6Q5tH-oREcmrIVAPwuW/s320/005.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We win at life</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was pretty late by this stage, so we wandered down to the
lake below the crag where we planned to bivvy. My last bivvying experience was
in a motorway service station near Stuttgart, so these were altogether more
impressive surroundings. Some creative use of a nutkey was required when it
became apparent that I’d neglected to bring one, but our pasta, spicy pesto,
salmon, sweetcorn and brie conflagration was worth the effort. A spot of
celebratory whisky was imbibed and I soon fell into a very well-earned slumber.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was awoken at 8 by the youth complaining that the sun was
up. I’d actually woken up just after sunrise to see the crag bathed in an
amazing orange glow, but was too tired/lazy to get my camera to record the
occasion. After a leisurely breakfast and a morning cuppa we wandered back up
to the crag just as the shade had come round onto the East Buttress and I led
the easy approach pitch to Silhouette, one of the crag’s many classic E2s. As I
wasn’t psyched for failing to lead any 5c moves, James set off with a monster
rack for a 45m adventure pitch. He slipped off downclimbing early on, which was
a shame, but he managed all of the actual upwards climbing, although he
certainly took his time and made the top crux look desperate. When I got on it
I found out that was because the whole route was hard, from start to finish.
Other than the two 5c cruxes there was barely a move below 5a, and plenty of
tricky 5b, compounded by a few greasy patches in the crack just where you
didn’t want them. I reached the non-rest below the upper crux feeling very low
on beans and when I went for the moves I was convinced I was off, but somehow I
managed to rearrange my feet as I was about to fall and one desperate final
application of try brought a just-good-enough hold into reach. The route was
brilliant, but definitely at the E3 end of the grade and not one I’ll be
rushing to lead in the near future. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7M5ee2wZACVtzS6y9ygEYh2FELhYvPRitAG1m_Fl_Xor4ymt7QNpwHOP45_R9SZD_gkRu8GharYDKzjeYMb8HSPz2UsUZwqenpdd8df4CtQggZlKpU-JQNtXtFF7wvqkJhWKbeKwZaSC/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid7M5ee2wZACVtzS6y9ygEYh2FELhYvPRitAG1m_Fl_Xor4ymt7QNpwHOP45_R9SZD_gkRu8GharYDKzjeYMb8HSPz2UsUZwqenpdd8df4CtQggZlKpU-JQNtXtFF7wvqkJhWKbeKwZaSC/s320/032.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Approaching the first crux on Silhouette</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that we were both feeling pretty physically and
emotionally drained, so we contemplated doing Sheaf, a 2/3 star VS/HVS
depending on which guide you believe, but Ripley told us not to bother as the 3<sup>rd</sup>
pitch was unlocatable. After a bit of umming and aahing we decided to follow
him and his dad up the 1<sup>st</sup> two pitches and then finish up White
Slab, that way avoiding the terrifying looking entry traverse of that route. I
led the first pitch, which had some nice climbing in spite of being a bit
dirty, but I was constantly unsure that I was on the right line and couldn’t
find a sensible belay, so ended up in an awkward semi-hanging stance some way
above where I wanted to be. The next pitch, down, round the arête and then
making a descending traverse of a slab was pretty cool, but my feet were in
agony and I felt like I was climbing like a particularly punter punter, so I
made Oswald lead the next pitch, which was brilliant; slabby cracks with just
enough gear, and a cool steep juggy traverse at the end. The next pitch was the
crux of White Slab, involving either a 5c traverse, or a pendulum at 5bish. It
seemed that even if you wanted to do it free, failure to lasso the spike was a
scary option, since falling off the smeary 5c moves would then have you
scraping across the slab, before swinging round the arête and off into space
below the belay (if you were lucky enough not to hit anything else). I sat in
the corner and sulked about my uselessness and general all-pervading tiredness
whilst James spent 40-odd minutes fruitlessly throwing armfuls of rope at the
distant spike. A cowboy he ain’t. Eventually, not fancying the necessary
manning-up to lead it free we decided to escape, which involved an entertaining
abseil round a blind rib. I was very pleased to round it and find the ropes
running back down into the descent gully rather than hanging off into oblivion.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdoc7r15Se8HFvbgjVY3vp5Gp6g7TA5bbw3OlRcd-YAzyu26dGHGzxFMd-64db9UOrR2NhtZ7abiKC7JTYGL3UHM2dGkWyFUzz-AniG6W5Iq7hMXwIcP96NsFdFFn_VEi5x5b1MBdJj52/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdoc7r15Se8HFvbgjVY3vp5Gp6g7TA5bbw3OlRcd-YAzyu26dGHGzxFMd-64db9UOrR2NhtZ7abiKC7JTYGL3UHM2dGkWyFUzz-AniG6W5Iq7hMXwIcP96NsFdFFn_VEi5x5b1MBdJj52/s320/040.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://tomripleyclimbing.blogspot.co.uk/">Ripley</a> pulling some shapes on White Slab</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was a bit grumpy about our failure, particularly my
general exhaustion, so I decided to see if a swim in the lake would sort me
out. The water was a touch nippy, but very refreshing and mill-pond still, so I
decided to swim out into the middle and wait until the ripples had settled
down. I had to abandon this plan 2/3 of the way out when I suddenly realised
that I was so battered that there was a very real chance I might not have
enough strength to swim back to shore if I went much further. After I was
safely back on dry land this made me feel a little vindicated about running
away. I’ll just have to come back when I’m harder, better, faster and stronger.
Or at least a little less puntertastic. Not that I need encouragement to make a
return visit. It’s an amazing crag, well worth it’s semi-mythical status. Now
if I can just man up enough to do Shrike next time round that would be nice…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-27061242902283047642013-07-03T05:21:00.004-07:002013-07-03T05:21:48.071-07:00The Stanage TonA couple of years ago, after a remarkably productive day soloing at Harborough and Windgather with a stinking hangover and a sprained ankle, I decided that soloing 100 routes in a day was the kind of thing that I ought to do at some point. I also quite fancied soloing a vertical kilometer in a day, which might be harder at obvious soloing haunts like Birchen, Windgather and Burbage, but should come for free with 100 routes at Stanage. As an added bonus, this would also avoid the rather unaesthetic faffery of driving between crags. A <a href="http://victimofmathematics.blogspot.co.uk/2011/09/eventful-day-off.html">previous effort</a> was aborted due to midges and broken feet, but it seemed like a challenge worthy of my current level of climbing skill. After a failed effort to drum up any willing companions, I found myself sitting at the far right of the Popular End at 10am on Monday, putting my rock shoes on.<br />
<br />
I followed the same pattern as my previous attempt, soloing all the Mods and Diffs, including a few in descent which I knew were reasonable propositions, with a few VDiffs (and the odd Severe), especially on the taller buttresses to keep the average route length up.After 19 routes I was already feeling tired and not overly optimistic about my prospects, but I got on with it. After 40 routes a well timed spot of drizzle forced me to have a rest and a spot of lunch (a particularly fine goats cheese and chorizo quiche). I'd resolved to bring a pen and paper with me so I could record the routes as I did them to make sure I didn't miscount and end up on 99, which was a great plan, since it forced me to take short breaks every 10 routes or so to write everything down, which I think saved me from any kind of mental fatigue. It was also nice to have a regular excuse to take my rock shoes off.<br />
<br />
Beyond Mississippi Buttress the crag loses a bit of height and there are plenty of easy routes at around the 10m mark to get the total ticking upwards. I was starting to think it might actually be possible, and when I passed Dover's Wall, where I'd given up before on 68, and could still walk, I had a celebratory handful of Haribo to spur myself on. The next, scrappy, section of the crag has a good number of short easy routes, so I was up to 80 by the time I reached the Unconquerables. Here the Diffs and Mods start to thin out and the VDiffs all seem to be proper thrashy chimneys. I tested one of these out - ODG's Chimney. That was a bad move. Some time later I emerged from its verdant bowels substantially chastened and boasting considerably less skin than before. I vowed to stick to the Diffs, even if that meant I had to walk all the way to the far end of the crag.<br />
<br />
Eventually, after a lot of wandering around, I found a cluster of insignificant Diffs that took me to 100. I found the energy to solo one more route (with a star no less) just in case, totted up the total height of all the routes to check it was over 1000m, and hobbled back along the top of the crag towards the now rather distant car.<br />
<br />
So, 101 routes, 1023m of climbing, 22 chimneys, 20 cracks, 2 clefts and 49 stars. Not a bad day out. I could do more, I think. Next time I might be tempted to ignore the height and just see how many routes I can manage in a day. Or try and collect stars. That could be fun, and would probably involve a fair bit less greenery...<br />
<br />Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-85147084230090688542013-06-25T00:52:00.001-07:002013-06-25T00:52:07.361-07:00Bimbling At Stanage, Spanked At Curbar<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
Another month, still haven't remembered how to climb. I have had lots of fun bimbling around. Much like all of Tremadog, climbing obscure unstarred low-grade routes at Stanage is one of my great guilty pleasures. I've been 3 times since my last post and climbed all sorts of mildly esoteric gems, including Birthday Buttress (a bit of a voyage at VS 4b), Elliott's Eliminate (a great route to do on a busy day, crossing 3 2/3-star routes at the Popular End) and The Real 20-Foot Crack (pocket-sized jamming loveliness). I've also found a fair few sandbags, including an HVS arete called Scary Canary that Adam led, which involved some very unlikely moves off uninspiring jams and a rounder-than-you-like arete.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJ7pRrEJpgTKU3bICdjtj2sOwUoFVlYt2dkLb7Xxwac3XomAOCGqeigVRhnd4h9OGKZSQQr5XkNBHOv_lrobqLAk9pmPUGlZvTO0ut4M4rWBYXE9I0mfwogbgthjQrsHu4rnTNZoy2wWG/s1600/IMG_0038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkJ7pRrEJpgTKU3bICdjtj2sOwUoFVlYt2dkLb7Xxwac3XomAOCGqeigVRhnd4h9OGKZSQQr5XkNBHOv_lrobqLAk9pmPUGlZvTO0ut4M4rWBYXE9I0mfwogbgthjQrsHu4rnTNZoy2wWG/s320/IMG_0038.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bimbler's Paradise</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I've also been to Bell Hagg. Twice in a week. On the first visit I mostly just got pumped and made tremendously hard work of the easy low traverse. On the return, Soph and I sheltered from the rain and made up some amusing eliminates. Oswald and I spent a frustrating day at Rivelin, where I soloed a bold HVS between the showers. And yesterday Adam and I went to Curbar with predictable results. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My natural reflex when anyone suggests going to Curbar is to shout "Noooooooo" with a despairing look on my face, but Adam overcame this by using the lure of unclimbed ticklist routes. So we went. Potter's Wall was very pleasant, then Adam led an unfrequented HVS with a stout little crack and a breezy top-out that was much easier once he'd found the holds. Not feeling like leading an HVS at Curbar was a good idea given my current levels of ineptitude I thought I'd punter up a nearby HS. After a long time pansying around on a ledge I escaped into the neighbouring HVDiff grovel, not fancying the baffling moves and uninspiring gear. Ignominious.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhme5a4dGP1MRChOSwfbfMNzspF8YUAv_FeO81SRo4lVzNi3NAmnMpYNwehnnfyT6Osr9Ul7KeYgD4-XPwp9xbltaLwyq65vunqpPn9q7V0cjcNWFmvqUbIz0YTMKL45Bl1FbMYYnSmelSH/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhme5a4dGP1MRChOSwfbfMNzspF8YUAv_FeO81SRo4lVzNi3NAmnMpYNwehnnfyT6Osr9Ul7KeYgD4-XPwp9xbltaLwyq65vunqpPn9q7V0cjcNWFmvqUbIz0YTMKL45Bl1FbMYYnSmelSH/s320/IMG_0044.JPG" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Windswept</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Adam then led another HVS with similar hold-missing faffery at the top, before we wandered left a bit to The Brain. It starts with an unprotected slabby teeter, which felt rather more soul-searching then it should, and finishes with brilliant exposed moves on mega-jugs up an arete. A VS at Curbar that wasn't a terrifying sandbag. Perhaps it really isn't a crag full of sandbags? </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
No, it is. Adam proved this by being repelled by the pain of a frankly horrible looking fist jam on a VS crack (which is disappointingly on the ticklist, so I'll be back at some point, hopefully with an idiot to lead it for me). He followed this by sketching his way up the scrittliest slab I've ever had the misfortune to venture onto.</div>
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So Curbar is still terrifying and I still can't climb. At least I've been having fun trying.</div>
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Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-23917349820341427402013-05-19T16:23:00.000-07:002013-05-19T16:23:01.992-07:00Yet More Puntering And A Bit Of Falling OffEaster seems a long time ago, but other than a slightly damp, windy and generally uninspiring day at Lawrencefield with Oswald and Ripley, where the highlight of the day was an epic onsight crush of an unstarred VS 4b, I've managed to avoid climbing entirely. Curses. Anyway, last weekend found an enthusiastic team of reprobates heading to Gardoms.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu05G4flKPx_ccjuajcKAk_BZa9NcrX3zPp5PD7EBSVAyEgPO6udX_DabaIiCrN9iB1w2kF7WAKkZUc96sLInDZqnOsR2Hb2pXAabC4j6JEbBu1MqQeeGZ_sxzBa9yXZ2l4wR8rKLYT0Pl/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu05G4flKPx_ccjuajcKAk_BZa9NcrX3zPp5PD7EBSVAyEgPO6udX_DabaIiCrN9iB1w2kF7WAKkZUc96sLInDZqnOsR2Hb2pXAabC4j6JEbBu1MqQeeGZ_sxzBa9yXZ2l4wR8rKLYT0Pl/s320/002.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I found a horrendous looking Mod with a star, and set about soloing it armed with Adam's oversized brush just in case the going got filthy. Other than some weird dried out slime on the first few holds it was actually quite clean and much better than it looks. I then scared myself silly soloing a couple of VSs I've soloed before, while Adam laid siege to a manky looking Severe crack. After eventually applying more than a Severe's worth of skill, we were all bafflingly possessed by the urge to follow him up it. We all found our own weirdly contorted way of overcoming the crux section - J-Rowe applied a calf-jam, whilst I managed to knee-bar my own knees. After another couple of routes it started to rain. Just as Simon had reached the top crux of Elliott's Buttress Direct. I found a convenient ledge and offered some generous words of advice. Definitely no heckling. Oh no.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnW7EO8sf-myC33evshDvbsNpUINlAI2xDdXx7MI-VEKEJhmUQoIE_govmUWmIekZ3sif2rReW8qqTctLfLc13sBpZ9Qap8yws4s3EEonGtwwTiKqtxc1ma-lD4K4DPncMm82VVK013uiE/s1600/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnW7EO8sf-myC33evshDvbsNpUINlAI2xDdXx7MI-VEKEJhmUQoIE_govmUWmIekZ3sif2rReW8qqTctLfLc13sBpZ9Qap8yws4s3EEonGtwwTiKqtxc1ma-lD4K4DPncMm82VVK013uiE/s320/013.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmm, damp holds...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
The following Friday afternoon brought a dry forecast and another team of waifs and strays, this time heading to Stanage. After a brief tussle with an overhang on a VS, and some tomfoolery with Dan on the arete of Topaz (which looked horrendous - Jaime and I stuck with the E1 copout), I fancied a go at some slabby HVS rounded break-hauling on Meiosis. The start was a bit butch, but after a couple of forays to stick a cam in and fettle the holds I went for it. I stretched up for a thin seam, which turned out not to be a hold, and was just wondering how to engineer the extra few inches to reach the break above when my foot popped and I was off. Luckily Jaime was paying attention and other than a slightly mangled finger and a bash on the chin no damage was done.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
After a brief moment to gather myself I got back on and gave it the beans to get to the next break. After a rather harrowing few minutes in a very contorted position trying to fiddle some more gear in all was well with the world. The rest of the route was thought-provoking, but altogether less eventful. Huzzah. We finished the day by pootling up a couple more routes whilst Dan engaged in some ethically questionable toproping chicanery in his mad quest to climb all of the routes at the crag.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Q4hwgKuRJAhb-NsP53QrHrXXoaB6qZxvNViLBUw4Jd3cD9zARNoH9pOsehopiUBtSicSN7B_aRYETvU3tn6nP1rCDWXKB7BKQnMcM5Zn6qgV-NzvIrF7v1DuH4-H_jxMrjf1SZmPzSFl/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Q4hwgKuRJAhb-NsP53QrHrXXoaB6qZxvNViLBUw4Jd3cD9zARNoH9pOsehopiUBtSicSN7B_aRYETvU3tn6nP1rCDWXKB7BKQnMcM5Zn6qgV-NzvIrF7v1DuH4-H_jxMrjf1SZmPzSFl/s320/003.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Superfuntimes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-27445082686924859762013-04-08T09:07:00.001-07:002013-04-08T09:07:34.810-07:00Standing On The Edge Of Winter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
After a month of unproductive cold I was pretty psyched for some kind of climby adventures at Easter, so I hired a car, filled it with enough kit to cover all eventualities, and set off for Andy's parents house in the South Lakes for to meet Julie and Andy for some kind of fun times. Julie is in training for the <a href="https://www.justgiving.com/JulieMair1">Fred Whitton </a> next month, so Good Friday saw the three of us poncing around Coniston in lycra failing to find any hills to cycle up (they were all covered in snow, sad times). We still managed 50 miles, and other than being utterly baltic, it was all quite pleasant.</div>
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The next day Andy, Oli and I got up unreasonably early and drove round to Borrowdale, to climb Raven Crag Gully, a classic grade III/IV above Combe Ghyll. There were already 2 parties there before us, but they were out of our way before we'd faffed about at the bottom. We soloed the easy approach pitch, then Andy led up a few nicely technical little steps to a belay, whence it was my lead (Oli was excused leading anything hard as he was in walking crampons). I've not done much winter leading, but it looked ok, and after spending quite a while fannying about trying to work out what to do I managed to get up a couple more tricky steps, to another very accommodating stance. Another interesting icy pitch, then a snowy wander led us to the foot of the much vaunted top pitch. The guidebook made claim that it's the most beautiful in all of the Lakes, which seemed a bit hyperbolic, but it did offer about 30 metres of excellent pure fat ice. Mmm.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The top pitch of Raven Crag Gully</td></tr>
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After another day of cycling over Honister, Newlands and Whinlatter (oof) Andy had contracted some kind of faceaids and could barely be coaxed out the house. Eventually we ended up wandering up to see if Low Water Beck was frozen (unsurprisingly it wasn't) before sulking back to the house (via Booths for some consolation food). Eventually the sunshine persuaded us that sitting inside wasn't the best use of our day and we went to explore the bouldering on offer at Dunnerholme. It turned out to be something like Cumbria's answer to Craig y Longridge, only made of limestone and not in a holiday park. The very pleasant setting almost made up for the fact that all of the problem were overhanging, crimpy and had rather frightening top outs (a point emphasised when Andy kicked a head-sized block at my head - sadly for him he missed). My fingers are clearly still weak, but I dragged myself up a few problems and it was nice to be out.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dunnerholme</td></tr>
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Another day of cycling, this time a lap of Helvellyn, was followed by a day soloing 3 easy gullies on Tarn Crag, wandering along to the top of Helvellyn, down Swirral Edge and back up Striding Edge in glorious sunshine. Not technically hard at all, but a glorious day out and with some spiffing views.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking East along Striding Edge towards St Sunday Crag and High Street</td></tr>
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The following day Oli and I managed to find a few hours to sneak off to another local bouldering mecca - Woodwell near Trowbarrow. It was a bit more highball than I was expecting for a bouldering crag, so we stuck to English 5a and below problems, but it was a fun way to give the arms a bit of a work out (as well as the head on some of the top outs) as well as collecting another new crag point.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oli trying to psyche himself up for another tussle with the overhang on The Teaser at Woodwell</td></tr>
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I'd made plans to meet up with Simon and Claire on Friday night at Helyg in Ogwen, but had no plans for the day time until some last-minute logistic chicanery resulted in me meeting up with <a href="http://tomripleyclimbing.blogspot.co.uk/">Mr Ripley</a> and his friend Mr Burrows at Skelwith Bridge, followed by several hours of driving around fruitlessly searching for a crag that wasn't a) covered in snow b) made of slate (we went to Hodge Close just to check, but it's still made of slate) c) bird banned (Stonestar looked great otherwise) d) utterly cack (see Troutal Gorge) or e) unfeasibly far away (see Hare Crags in Eskdale). We did manage a few minutes of amusement at Seathwaite Buttress in the Duddon Valley, where we soloed a nice little (ticklist) Severe, and Ollie led the Profit of Doom-esque groove of Seathwaite Buttress Direct, before deciding that the South crag of Castle Rock was the place for us. By the time we arrived it was nearly sunset, so I soloed a few easier routes whilst the others had fun with cold hands on some bold E1s.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ollie soloing Crackle at Seathwaite Buttress whilst Tom climbs a tree for some reason...</td></tr>
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After an unreasonably long wait for the wrong pizza in Penrith, I hared it down to North Wales, then spent some time staggering around in the dark at midnight trying to find the CC hut. Turns out it's on the other side of the road... We had a little bit of unwelcome excitement the next morning when one of the other occupants of the hut came down with some kind of mysterious inner ear infection that caused him to throw up copiously. I'd love to say that in a triumph of the human spirit over adversity, all the other hut occupants pulled together to look after him, but no, the other bastards all pissed off, leaving us to try and persuade him he wasn't about to die, and get some medical help for him. What fun.</div>
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Anyway, we eventually reached Tremadog, where the sun was out and everything was warm and pleasant. I soloed a HS while Claire led Borneo, a one star VS that was reclaimed from the vegetation a few years ago. Both were very pleasant. Si then led an unstarred, but also very nice VS with an unpronounceable Welsh name. I know it isn't very cool, but I love Tremadog. The rock is lovely, there are loads of hidden jugs and generally good gear. It's easy to do a load of multi-pitch routes in one day and there's loads of good stuff to go at. I've done 35 different route on Bwlch y Moch alone, and I can't think of a bad one among them. As if to illustrate how great the place is we finished the day up Kestrel Cracks, an old VS sandbag now upgraded to HVS. Claire led the 4c first pitch, which was brilliant. Funky 3-dimensional climbing up a corner with loads of weird palming moves and daft contortions. Brilliant. The top, 5a, pitch was only hard for a short section, but it needed giving some beans to get past a singularly unhelpfully polished nubbin. A great finish to a really cracking day. It was difficult to believe that there was anything approaching winter conditions to be had anywhere given how warm it was.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire on the top pitch of Kestrel Cracks</td></tr>
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Back at the hut we were joined by an ever so slightly sunburnt Becky, who'd been out wandering around the Glyderau in the snow. We were plotting a return visit to Tremadog when some of the other folks from the hut started telling us about their great day out winter climbing on Llech Ddu. I had a look in the guide and found a sexy picture of a grade III gully (imaginatively named 'The Gully') in nearby Cwmglas Bach which promised to be "Chock full of fat ice". After a super early start (well, 6am) we stomped in over the frozen bog (which wasn't so frozen on the walk out) and up to the base of the route, which looked exactly as described. Bo. Some of the ice was a bit brittle, but there was so much of it that it hardly mattered. I even got one of Si's mega ice screws all the way in at one point. Whoop. After lounging around in the sun waiting for Si and Claire to join us we had a slightly hairy descent back to the bags, then a long walk back out through the bog with broken feet all round. Another great day out and difficult to believe that we had been climbing in the sunshine only the day before. What a strange place the world is.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fat ice ftw</td></tr>
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<br />Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-12836068653619134622013-03-06T01:01:00.002-08:002013-03-06T01:17:49.992-08:00Venturing More Than 6' Off The GroundI went to Birchen on Friday afternoon with the youth. We ticked most of the easy problems on the three ships as a warm up, although the trivially easy but pumpy traverses were beyond me. Bah. Then we went down to the main edge, climbed an entertaining little V3 arete fairly swiftly, and had a few attempts at Hornblower, a classic V4. Oswald made some good progress and eventually hit the elegant lurch for the decent sidepull, and it was in the bag. I, however, failed repeatedly to make the first move, so I consoled myself by soloing a few of the routes nearby. It's been a while since I was more than 6 feet off the ground, but I managed not to get a nosebleed with the extreme altitude. I finished the day by sandbagging the youth on the start of Powder Monkey Parade and watching some gentlemen make impressively short work of Gritstone Megamix, a highball classic.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't beat a good sandbagging...</td></tr>
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Yesterday the forecast was glorious, so I made plans to go to Yorkshire with Lizzie. I felt a little cheated when I woke up to a world of fog. I felt more cheated when it still hadn't burnt off by late morning, but eventually around noon the sun managed to break through, so I set off. Driving through Leeds is a bit like punching yourself in the face, only it takes much, much longer and is substantially less fun, so it wasn't until 3 that we actually reached the bottom of Crookrise and racked up. All the jangly gear was a bit confusing, but after a massive attack of uselessness at the start of a VS I pulled myself together and managed my first leads of the year, and even a new ticklist route, whoop. All in all it was a very pleasant afternoon, and it was nice to catch up with Lizzie. It was also a good reminder that I need to get better, so VSs don't feel like quite such hard work...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting stuck into some traditional VDiff action</td></tr>
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<br />Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-55715647605181024412013-02-20T10:39:00.004-08:002013-02-20T10:40:16.068-08:00C..C..CaleyA few things have happened since the weekend. I turned 31 (hurrah for prime number ages), I bought a road bike (part of my grand plan to be less fat and puntery) and some new rock shoes, mostly for climbing things where I might want some stiffer soles than my usual flappy Boosters. I also awarded myself the day off yesterday (for being totally awesome) and headed up to Caley with Jaime.<br />
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I'd paid a flying visit once before on my own, but I didn't do anything of note, so there was plenty to go at. Although a fair few boulders were looking rather verdantly green and lichenous, there was plenty of dry rock, even if there was quite a chill in the air. Having cunningly chosen a crag on a north-facing slope we were also out of the sun. So we had to try hard in order to keep warm instead of lounging around. To my great surprise this actually worked. Although trying hard currently involves anything above about 5a, I managed to punter up 23 problems, including quite a few V2 flashes. The highlights of the day were probably The Thin Slab, which was a bit of a soul-searching voyage into a smeary world of excitement, and a delightful mantel problem called Bob's Bastard. I was mostly drawn to it because it was a mantelshelf and it sounded like it might be horrendous, so how could I resist?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jaime finessing her footwork</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: left;">The initial lip was some distance above my head, so a substantial hoik was required to peer onto the slab above to see what lay in store. There was a mysterious pocket, and not much else, so I gave it some beans and threw for the pocket. I missed it and fell off. Twice. Then I hit it and fell off. Twice. Then I almost made it round the lip, but my hip got snagged and I fell off. On the next attempt I got cramp in my calf, but after a brief rest I gave it the beans and sent it like it had never been sent before. Or something. Anyway, it was fun. First 6a of the year as well. Whoop. May it be the first of many.</span></div>
Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-74120327724631545962013-02-18T01:43:00.004-08:002013-02-20T10:40:33.230-08:00Gluttony And SlothIf it seems like I haven't updated this blog for a long time there are a few good reasons for that. Primarily because, other than a cold and rather scrittly trip to Curbar in late November, I haven't climbed anything. Boo. A combination of University coursework and exams, dodgy weather and being on holiday all the time (oh the hardship) have conspired to keep me away from either any real rock, or even any fake plastic rock. Fortunately I have put the time to good use and have got exceptionally fat and weak. Yay me.<br />
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Last weekend I went to The Works. It was a very unedifying experience and I hurt for days afterwards. On Friday I went to Stanage, which was similarly productive and the highlights included failing miserably to climb several V1s I've previously flashed and ripping a hole in my hand. Still, it was nice to be outside.<br />
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On Saturday I managed to sneak out for a few hours with Jaime. We went to Apparent North to get some easy mileage in, which suited me just fine. Conditions were great and we knocked off loads of easy problems before heading home (and in my case drinking several times my own bodyweight in whisky).<br />
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So, contrary to my good intentions I'm fatter, weaker and punterier than ever before. I feel as though I know how to climb, my body just isn't compliant with my demands. Time to take evasive action. Well, maybe slightly less cake and a few more sessions at the wall. Most importantly - plan some climbing trips to give me something to get inspired for. Places I'm especially keen to go - Font, Red Rocks/Zion, the culm, Pembroke, Gogarth, Cloggy (maybe this year...), the Chew, the Lakes...Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-17396549972147098762012-11-12T04:04:00.001-08:002012-11-12T04:04:11.317-08:00The Harsh Realities Of A Pie-Based DietAfter Suicide Wall and my recent slabby E-point gathering, it's been feeling like I've actually improved a bit. I've certainly got a lot more confidence in my footwork, especially on smeary grit. This week, however, has proved a timely reminder that I am still essentially fat and weak, and I need to try a bit harder at being less so. <br />
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I've managed to get out bouldering three times, but only for an hour or two each time. A visit to Burbage South in the evening sunshine was promising, with easy flashes of things I'd previously totally failed to commit to, but I was still easily shut down by a few not that difficult problems. The roofs at Gardoms North were a different kettle of fish altogether. My fingers felt weak and my arse very heavy, although I did manage a 5c slab problem one-handed, which was fun. Finally a freezing flying visit to Stanage saw me only just huff and puff my way up a V1 after rather too many attempts, only to discover on checking my guidebook that on a previous visit I'd flashed it.<br />
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So, back down to earth with a bump (in a literal sense when it came to some of yesterday's problems). Still, it's a good shove in the direction of actually doing some training over the winter. Less cakes, more sessions at the wall. Which is a shame, as I really like cake...Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-36716345771777239782012-11-03T07:21:00.004-07:002012-11-03T07:34:24.106-07:00Wrestling The Cratcliffe Bear<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
With perfect grit conditions forecast, Dan M slacked off work and joined Oswald and I on a quest to Cratcliffe. I don't know how I got persuaded that we should go there, since the only route there I wanted to do, Suicide Wall, sounded a lot like hard work, and I really didn't want to fall off it. I think it was the lure of a rematch with Egg Arete that tipped it for me. It turns out that fitting 3 climbers, all of their gear and 2 bouldering mats into a Ka is a nontrivial matter, but eventually we managed to tessellate the youth into the back and off we went.</div>
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The ground was a bit damp when we arrived, and it was a bit windy, so we found some sheltered, sunny boulders to warm up on. I managed a few very nice smeary problems, which would have felt like the living end a while ago, and even a burly V3 (although I did have to try quite hard for that). Feeling keen after this, Dan was psyched for a shot at Kaluza Klein. I wanted to take photos, but in the end my superior heaviness skills were required for belaying, so James was designated chief photographer. Oh dear.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James' best recreation of the classic shot of Dawes on Kaluza Klein. One can barely tell the difference...</td></tr>
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After a fair bit of standing on the ledge obsessively cleaning his shoes, Dan applied some skills and a little bit of tallness, and cruised to the top. This came as a relief to me, since I wasn't super-psyched for any harrowing belaying action. Awesomesauce. With a team tick of basically everything that mattered at the Stride, we sauntered over towards Cratcliffe, with the sense of impending doom growing in my stomach. Maybe Suicide Wall would be wet and I could cry off it...<br />
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We stopped en route at the Egg boulder, where I was due a rematch with Egg Arete, a classic font 6a bit of gritstone weirdness. Oswald had offered me £5 if I could get it first go, but his money was never in any danger. After about 50 goes I managed to fall off the top move a few times, but by the 500th go I was back to ignominiously falling off as soon as I had pulled on. Harrumph. Even the power of falafel couldn't propel me up it, so we skulked over (well, I skulked, the others just walked) to the main crag.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying the post-crux jugs on Fern Hill</td></tr>
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James had unfinished business with Fern Hill, having failed on it recently after filling all of the handholds with gear (how very unlike him). This time he learnt from his previous mistakes and laid the smack down on the route. Impressive stuff. He's also recently invested in some lurid fluorescent baselayers, so I even got some half-decent photos of him for once. Whilst I papped away, Dan seconded him, setting up a belay en route at the top of The Groove (yes, <a href="http://www.ukclimbing.com/news/item.php?id=42441">that one</a>). Having never worked a route with the intention of headpointing it before, Dan was concerned that he was falling into a bit of an ethical black hole, but after 10 minutes of trying the crux moves on a toprope it was clear that a) it's bloody hard and b) that Pearson bloke can evidently climb a bit.</div>
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Once Dan had had enough it was my lead. I'd spent the whole day moaning vociferously
about how much I didn't want to climb Suicide Wall because it would be hard and
I'd have to try. In my mind the route had turned into 3 Nowandas stacked on top
of each other and failure was absolutely guaranteed. But I was outnumbered, so
I was going to have to get on it. Stood in the polished niche before the crux
of the first guidebook pitch I wondered what I was doing here. I didn't feel
like I had the appetite for what I was sure was going to be a massive battle
and I just wanted to go home and sulk. Eventually I stopped wallowing in
self-defeat and manned up to the jamming crack above, which was a bit frisky,
and had a touch of the 5bs about it (at least for one move), but I got to the
Bower with some beans left in the tank and began to wonder if perhaps I might
actually get to the top.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzLIuJrXL2v0TXmepwqDVJejZAEbF09udulpQvrILDaJE3OCpkEyWcSLZYMIFgiARzHMBXZ-KIvhP5czysWFn7QrTXsOpt9OsKlopIKV7goGrjGBxNHyDXptASKv-AVdyzOrYzRwo8p4O/s1600/063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzLIuJrXL2v0TXmepwqDVJejZAEbF09udulpQvrILDaJE3OCpkEyWcSLZYMIFgiARzHMBXZ-KIvhP5czysWFn7QrTXsOpt9OsKlopIKV7goGrjGBxNHyDXptASKv-AVdyzOrYzRwo8p4O/s320/063.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Chillaxing in The Bower</span></td></tr>
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If we hadn't been climbing in a 3 I might have attempted to wheedle out of leading
the second guidebook pitch, but a) that was cheating and b) 3 of us in the
Bower would have been a bit cosy, so I ploughed on. Satisfying jams on the
traverse led to a crack with a handy in situ cam that I was pleased to clip and
jam on past to the sit-down cave rest. I couldn't quite engineer a way to
actually sit down, but I did avail myself of a long rest to allow my arms to
de-pump. The next crack started well, but suddenly got a bit wide and I was
forced into a filthy layback for a move, before I could wedge myself behind a
huge flake to contemplate the top out. I knew there were jugs, but they were
still a welcome relief and I had a little lie down to recover from the effort
of it all before bringing the others up. A brilliant route, well worth all the
plaudits. HVS 5b, 5a for my money, as the second 'pitch' wasn't hard, just
steep but with good rests. And other than historical reasons it seems a shame
to split it into two pitches, it's such a great big (for grit anyway) single
pitch. You do need quite a lot of gear though. I got to the top with a single
quickdraw and a single cam left on my harness, and I'd started off with far too
many of both.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Dan finished the day with another quick burn on The Groove, so I dragged a mat back
over to Egg Arete for one final go. I wasn't sure it was a good idea, since
failure would just leave a bad taste at the end of a good day, but it wasn't
going to either climb itself or go away. In the fading light, but with perfect
friction, I got it first go. Whoop. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Today, a combination of the many, many attempts at the weird palmy/pressing moves on Egg Arete, and the butch jug-hauling of Suicide Wall have left me with a
full-body ache, like I've been wrestling a bear. I feel like I might have won
this time though. And perhaps Suicide Wall has made me fall back in love
with cracks a little bit again. I'm sure that's nothing that a visit to Curbar
can't fix...<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-66690614538629715832012-10-29T02:26:00.002-07:002012-10-29T02:26:16.791-07:00Froggattlove<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was never really sold on Froggatt. For what was alleged in the old Rockfax guide to be the second best Eastern grit crag it didn't seem that amazing. A few mid-grade classics, the odd sandbag (Triangle Buttress nearly killed me as a VDiffish leader) and lots of manky-looking slabs. Following my recent second coming as some kind of slab-climbing messiah it's suddenly started to look like the great crag it's meant to be. Unfortunately it also has it's fair share of horrible, steep, E1/2 cracks which appeal to the youth for some unfathomable reason.</div>
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With proper grit weather forecast for Friday and Saturday I ended up there on both days. On Friday with Oswald is was a lot less sunny than had been promised, and it even pretended to rain for a while, but I still managed to yomp up Motorcade and Brown's Eliminate without too much difficulty. One was smeary, the other crimpy, and both had cruxes with gear below your feet, but they felt steady enough for me to enjoy the climbing rather than being overwhelmed by thoughts of falling off. In between James put in an impressive effort on Synopsis, a renegade peg crack from Millstone. My efforts on second were less impressive. Having given it maximum beans to get through the crux, I was too pumped to get anything to stick in the damp upper crack, so I aided on a wobbly nut. Inglorious. I also nearly fell off seconding an HVS again (albeit it one that's clearly actually E1).</div>
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Saturday was much sunnier, but still absolutely baltic when we arrived at the crag with Julie and Andy. The 3 of us excluding One Quiche (that's Oswald by the way) soloed a chilly Sunset Slab as a (not very) warm up, before Julie got on Motorcade and I set off up Ratbag an E2 that can be brought down to HVS with side runners (which I had every intention of availing myself of). The crux slab didn't look too scary, and the gear below it was good and would at least stop you dying if you fell off, so I put my faith in my mad slab skillz and went for it sans side runners. Well, I say went for it. I actually spent about an hour dithering on a big ledge before eventually getting on with it. The moves were great, with decent pockets for your feet, but not much for your hands and culminating in an exciting stretch for a thank-god little crimp just below the top. Great stuff.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eigenquiche getting his crush on</td></tr>
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By this stage Adam and Steve Kirman had turned up, so I palmed Oswald and his Chequers Crack-y intentions off on Steve and tried to coax Adam into giving Brown's Eliminate a go. Unfortunately he got so psyched that he twisted his ankle in excitement and had to take it easy for the rest of the day. Although not before leading the wandering, but fun, Janker's End, which was my 700th VS. I gather the medal's in the post.</div>
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It had occurred to me the previous day that I'd never led a 5c move, which seemed like a bit of an oversight. I'd also spotted a pleasant-looking no-star E1 5c which looked quite slabby, so I gave it a whirl. Perhaps unsurprisingly I had to try quite hard not to fall off the tenuous rockover and stretch, but I made it. Whoop. The HDiff up which it finished wasn't that easy though...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Piano-playing rightwards, like a white Thelonius Monk</td></tr>
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After cheerleading whilst Andy soloed Great Slab, and failing to convince myself to even have a go at Long John's, I finished the day off with another bold E1, Two-Sided Triangle. Like Three Pebble Slab, only with a harder crux and easier bold padding, it didn't put up much of a fight. So, 7 E-Points in 2 days. Very pleasing. Whether this will continue, or whether I'll go back to falling of non-slabby HVSs remains to be seen. Oswald is certainly keen to go somewhere that isn't Froggatt for a change!</div>
<br />Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-64678079501920301202012-10-19T16:38:00.000-07:002012-10-19T16:38:02.382-07:00Going Nowhere FastGood things about this week:<br />
I got out climbing 3 times mid week<br />
I got a Hard Rock tick (Valkyrie, on my winter list of gritpsyche too)<br />
I got a soft E-point (Easter Rib, also on the gritlist)<br />
I climbed my 250th HVS<br />
We saw a kestrel flying around at Froggatt, and a massive stag on the walk back to the car<br />
I remembered how much I perversely enjoy rubbish eliminates on grit. At one point today I could simultaneously touch two adjacent routes, but enjoyed not using any of the holds from either of them.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raptors ftw</td></tr>
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Bad things about this week:<br />
Being rained off Froggatt after only one route<br />
Leading the second pitch of Valkyrie like a cack-handed buffoon and nearly falling off (until a beautifully elegant solution involving altogether too much of my arse and not enough actual technique was found)<br />
Nearly getting hypothermia belaying James on The Big Crack<br />
Having to use a point of aid whilst seconding aforementioned crack (I blame a combination of very cold hands and extreme uselessness)<br />
Not getting to do Motorcade or Brown's Eliminate, in spite of visiting Froggatt twice.<i> Shakes fist in the general direction of the crag.</i>Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-49234311142194482822012-10-11T12:36:00.002-07:002012-10-11T12:36:41.486-07:00The Motivating Power Of ListsAfter last week's spanking at Almscliff and my realisation that some grit routes just need more fitness, combined with a general post-Lundy gritstone malaise, I decided to make a little list of grit routes I'm inspired to do. I also had a think about what was stopping me from doing them, partly so I can work on those things with a specific goal in mind ('get fitter' is a bit less inspiring than 'get fitter so I can crush Bachelor's Left-Hand' and more likely to actually make me put the effort in), but also to almost prove to myself that there is no reason why I shouldn't be trying some harder things.<br />
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I climbed one route off the list, Tower Face, the other day, and yesterday I found myself back at Stanage with the youth standing at the bottom of another - Wall End Slab Direct. I'm not sure what drew me to this route in particular, but it was in the 'Things I could probably do now' section of the list as I couldn't think of any good excuse why not. I warmed up on the original route of the slab, and then the left arete, which is amusingly not independent in the slightest, and not nearly HVS. In between James fell off the Severe crack that Death And Night And Blood starts up (although he had no problem with the E1 bit once he got there), and spent a hilariously long time and an awful lot of effort trying to get off the ground on Fern Crack (he got there eventually).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flummoxed by a VS. Oh how I laughed.</td></tr>
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I'd had a glance over towards my chosen foe and the gear break didn't look as good as I might have hoped. James also pitched in with a helpful anecdote about belaying Jon Stewart on this for an age in the freezing cold before he backed off it. And then my belay plate randomly snapped and fell off the back of my harness for no good reason. So all was auguring well, but it looked as though it wouldn't be too hard to run away from before the crux, so I set off to 'have a look'.<br />
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I managed to finoogle (definitely a real word) in a variety of cams of varying degrees of uselessness, which between them might perhaps have held a fall, and moved up to the interesting bit. The move seemed obvious - a high left foot and a committing rockover into a decent, but slightly awkwardly shaped pocket, but it felt hard. After a few wafts at the pocket with my foot James suggested I try some footwork, which helped a bit, but it still looked hard and scary. I was about to give up when I tried something slightly different with my body positioning and it suddenly felt a lot more feasible. Reassured by the fact that I couldn't see how ropey the ropey cams were I went for it after a couple more false starts, and that was that. A bit of bold but easy padding up the top of the VS and I'd done it. My first E2 in Britain. Yay me. It's easy to see how people get caught up by grade-chasing on bold slabs. As long as you don't fall off they feel easy! It's perhaps for the best that there aren't too many other slabs on my list. Just Telli (which actually has some gear) and Motorcade (which is only 5a, how hard can it be...), and lots of steeper things. Ulp.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWUcaq3lgVlkhdWYCIx2A5IWpB2HKKxBiA8csrjgj1_gL7Jmz8AiwGrv3qfKi8VtBGzMZmEZlk8iRIiDXAzVwv3mbCGefGzwSHgyJcqN46ch5_eHT78PuVlKEnPJI5NpuNbdOL8y5pU4vW/s1600/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWUcaq3lgVlkhdWYCIx2A5IWpB2HKKxBiA8csrjgj1_gL7Jmz8AiwGrv3qfKi8VtBGzMZmEZlk8iRIiDXAzVwv3mbCGefGzwSHgyJcqN46ch5_eHT78PuVlKEnPJI5NpuNbdOL8y5pU4vW/s320/012.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fail</td></tr>
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<br />
On the issue of my auto-destructing belay plate, I emailed DMM, who said that apparently this does happen in very rare cases (something to do with a process called dinking). To their credit they have already sent me a replacement and asked me to send the broken one back for testing, but it is a relief that it didn't happen halfway up a multi-pitch route on a sea cliff. Or mid-abseil. I think I'll be carrying a spare one on my harness next time I go to Gogarth...</div>
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Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-22104839643931218922012-10-08T07:44:00.001-07:002012-10-08T07:44:15.158-07:00Struggles, Ignominy and Autumn WeatherHaving been abandoned by my girlfriend for the weekend without a car last Saturday, I found myself negotiating the delights of public transport en route to Chateau Julie and Andy in Leeds. I arrived to find Julie suffering with a cold and Andy bemoaning his own snottyness, a veritable cavalcade of psyche. After several cups of tea, Andy and I decided to see just how windy it was at Almscliff. The answer was very, but Black Wall was out of the worst of it. I took a near-infinite amount of time to lead South Wall Traverse, a VS with an exceptionally polished start (with no gear and a little too high for comfort), before falling off several times trying to follow Andy up the unreasonably steep Black Wall Eliminate.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It looks so benign from afar...</td></tr>
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Hoping to claw back some dignity I managed to lead Traditional Climb in polynomial time and with no lapses of style. Things were picking up. As was the wind. Andy then led Demon Wall, whose top out had defeated him previously when he tried to go the wrong way. It turns out that even when you go the right way it's still bloody hard. As if to prove this I fell off then my foot popped whilst I was flailing around uselessly with my pumped arms trying to locate the finishing hold. Very undignified, especially on an HVS .<br />
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Not keen for Overhanging Groove (which was directly in the wind and covered in top-ropers, or at least aspiring top-ropers, as their attempts to lower a rope down the route were rather hampered by the wind blowing the rope horizontally along the crag)), I lobbied for running away to somewhere less windy. We ended up at Brimham, where I ran straight for the first slab I could find, which also conveniently had a three-star VS on it. I'd belayed Oswald on his ill-fated cold-fingered attempt on this back in February, so I was expecting a modicum of difficulty. I wasn't disappointed, but a frisky little scuffle past the crux overlap and a teeter for the top saw me alright.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hardest technical move of the day - getting into the car avoiding the puddle Andy had managed to park in the middle of</td></tr>
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Keen to drag me back down into ignominy Andy then insisted on climbing Minion's Way. We'd bouldered out the start before and it was desperate then. Turns out it hasn't grown any less awful, and a combination of general uselessness and some inconveniently wet holds led to me grovelling horrendously along the mid-height ledge on both knees trying not to peel off backwards. On finally reaching the top crack I discovered it was far more awkward than it appeared from below. Only the determination not to fail on yet another HVS kept my going as I was forced into laybacking, shudder. Overall it was a rather inglorious day out, but a good reminder that a lot of grit routes need some actual stamina. I've kind of always known that, but perhaps it's time to do something about it...<br />
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The following day I indulged in more train-related fuckwittery, before racing out to Burbage with Oswald just in time to get to the crag, rack up, then run away again when it started raining. We tried again on Monday afternoon at Stanage and this time I actually managed to climb a route, an HVS, even, without falling off or nearly dying. I'd been trying to do Tower Face for about 2 years, but it was always covered in rain or people, so it was good to finally get it ticked (and it was a cracking route). James then started up Fern Groove, and had just placed the crucial runner when it started to rain and we ran away again. Well, I say runner, what I mean is 5 cams within a metre of each other, but you catch my drift...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOGjvMgmW7O2st7HxwThB9g5CpwJm-qV2To4d8V3abI5iFORBvFcb0ONU3Z5Iw6QUbAOxROof2N6zkdi4ADi5eELv-cysp6EKu_aveN9aRmfnvE6fsd5KXeCePZnDYEi9FycovEtz_T3AW/s1600/IMG_0632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOGjvMgmW7O2st7HxwThB9g5CpwJm-qV2To4d8V3abI5iFORBvFcb0ONU3Z5Iw6QUbAOxROof2N6zkdi4ADi5eELv-cysp6EKu_aveN9aRmfnvE6fsd5KXeCePZnDYEi9FycovEtz_T3AW/s320/IMG_0632.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five shalt be the number of runners thou shalt place, and the number of thy runners shall be Five. </td></tr>
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More successful adventures were had yesterday at Millstone with Adam. We arrived to find Kyle and the youth about to do Plexity, so I racked up to take advantage of the fact that Estremo didn't have an in situ owl for once. It took me far, far too long to finally work out how to use the awkwardly wide crack (too wide for fist jams, too narrow to get in), but once I did it wasn't actually too bad, and the worrying layback at the top turned out to be avoidable by sexy wide bridging. Whoop.<br />
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After Adam had made short work of Great Portland Street, which he'd unaccountably never done before, I toyed with the idea of doing one of the Embankment E1s, but decided instead to take advantage of having brought my big cams with me, and get involved with the "Salivating fissure" of Crew Cut. After a false start involving a very painful and near-terminal knee-jam, I managed the necessary medieval thrutching to reach the ledge of loin-girding. I found some sneaky bonus wires here which was pleasing, since the top required an actual proper layback. Against a green sidewall. Bleurk. Somehow I didn't die, and ended up, panting, at the top, glad to be alive. All very type II fun.<br />
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From here the guide recommends doing a further pitch, rather than skulking off rightwards, so Adam quested off up into the undergrowth. A heathery crack led, via some very green looking footholds, to a few runners, some more heather, and a tiny sapling. A delicate teeter leftwards past some more heather led to the arete and a proper hold (but no more gear) and then an exciting move or two in a position where falling off would have been ill-advised at best, led to a nasty, sloping topout. I don't recall seeing Adam look so chastened before. According to the UKC logbooks it's only had 3 ascents, and the last one of those was in 1984, so I'm not surprised it was so vegetated. At least it's been upgraded from VS though, that would have been a nasty shock!Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-65647200712209426182012-09-26T02:30:00.001-07:002012-09-26T02:30:05.855-07:00The Summer's Last HurrahIn spite of the utterly diabolical weather in Britain this summer, my Faustian pact has come good and I've been blessed with some unreasonably dry conditions for my various summer holidays. Last week was no exception, and for the first time I spent a whole week on Lundy without either getting rained on, or spending any time sitting in the pub playing darts badly and sulking. Aces. The youth, Gwilym major, Oli and I had 8 days of climbing lovely granite, with only a few minor adventures along the way.<br />
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It was Gwilym and James' first visit to Lundy, so we headed straight for the Devil's Slide off the boat, but it was covered in people, so we carried on to the Fortress. Oli and Gwilym had a fun time climbing a great-looking, but rather wet E1, whilst I tried to run a 2 pitch VS into 1 pitch, before deciding that was a bad idea, so I belayed on a nice grassy ledge and sent James up the second pitch. It turns out that not reading the guide and just following your nose isn't a totally infallible method of routefinding, so I managed to inadvertently sandbag him with one of the worst pitches I've ever had the misfortune to climb. It was hard, vegetated, not overly well-protected, and the crux involved much use of a very temporary flake. Not the finest introduction to the delights of the island.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9Q_wVThDwt6Vro_csJG1vcref2bssWUbLuRm8B6X8LP3wT38mLX5LiKK7dbtiW3B7rIVMpjLyBpSp6Tu4FdWLNWArBhpvb4ihVHjiW8JP2f6stgEQA4DjNGhE9I9dUc-IQFLFPpSE98g/s1600/IMG_0373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9Q_wVThDwt6Vro_csJG1vcref2bssWUbLuRm8B6X8LP3wT38mLX5LiKK7dbtiW3B7rIVMpjLyBpSp6Tu4FdWLNWArBhpvb4ihVHjiW8JP2f6stgEQA4DjNGhE9I9dUc-IQFLFPpSE98g/s320/IMG_0373.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carol Anne Butler Corner and The Fortress</td></tr>
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That night the Tavern was rammed with more climbers than I've ever seen before, including Pembroke's own Trevor Massiah, so we got up early(ish) the next day to beat them all to the Slide. It was worth the effort, as shortly after we arrived, a further 12 people appeared and started queueing for the routes. What an outrage. After romping up the eponymous route I talked myself into having a go at Satan's Slip, a route I'm fairly certain I told somebody once to shoot me if I ever contemplated going near. My apprehension was furthered when the leader in front of me placed but one runner on the main pitch, which fell out. I managed to find a fair few more than that, including some that might even have held a fall, but it's well described in the guide as a lonely lead, and it was definitely more of an emotional than a technical challenge.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ApG10iKXu0HFYlG1H8-fEfti_fY1EPSbDDZdSmnJ1aLTVdkBvN-z3n2hp5GheSTEHhqGiyckMthJVqeJ8pwCB0a5WaiAplSOxVx1VBGsQSCsvszaOFsLB3SbZXfl0YT-6vifmn-HY4Cb/s1600/IMG_0423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ApG10iKXu0HFYlG1H8-fEfti_fY1EPSbDDZdSmnJ1aLTVdkBvN-z3n2hp5GheSTEHhqGiyckMthJVqeJ8pwCB0a5WaiAplSOxVx1VBGsQSCsvszaOFsLB3SbZXfl0YT-6vifmn-HY4Cb/s320/IMG_0423.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A busy day on the Slide</td></tr>
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After a day climbing pleasant HVS 5bs in Landing Craft Bay, and an excursion to Needle Rock, I found myself half way up Admiral's Arete, a bold E1 5a which I'd previously seconded Dr Money up. My memory was that it was desperate and that the gear was all placed blind, but even in excitingly strong winds it felt easy this time, and the gear was just fine. Either I've learnt how to smear a bit, or some holds have fallen onto the route. I'm not sure which of those seems less improbable.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqdrmx3f3p3oxAP9cDlH0NmfrrvGJu_REhRdvMTWewSfauX9U4iAo93WZaKwPxcSpPANqWF8ijGaPHfeVxNTlGoHb_Y92BdmM5WSf9Ryx_c-DK9jtHN2upEWe497WsV9sJTrE9BlQEw-S/s1600/IMG_0435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGqdrmx3f3p3oxAP9cDlH0NmfrrvGJu_REhRdvMTWewSfauX9U4iAo93WZaKwPxcSpPANqWF8ijGaPHfeVxNTlGoHb_Y92BdmM5WSf9Ryx_c-DK9jtHN2upEWe497WsV9sJTrE9BlQEw-S/s320/IMG_0435.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Road Runner</td></tr>
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The next day Oli and Gwilym made short work of American Beauty, whilst Oswald and I faffed a bit and did the wonderfully named (and also quite good) Nonexpectis Jugsimisius. We then met up, abseiled down a tottering grass slope of death, and marvelled at the falling-downy appearance of the Devil's Chimney (which isn't a chimney at all, but a sea stack). The thing even has a huge hole through the middle of it. As a bonus for us, the boulders which moved a few years ago, rendering the scrambly start into a tough 5b pitch, seemed to have moved back, making things a whole lot easier than expected. Oli then led a very underwhelming and loose pitch, which left me wondering about the wisdom of our endeavours. The top pitch made up for it, with fun moves on clean (solid) rock, although it was stout for VS, and led to a very accommodating summit where one could lounge around and gawp at the amazingness of The Promised Land and the terror of Overlord. I had been expecting a desperate scramble back to the mainland to avoid getting cut off by the tide, but the sea was still miles away after we'd abseiled off, so we had a little explore of a very impressive cave and avoided the horrific prusik back up the deathslope by climbing out up a tricky VS on Punchbowl Cliff.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJcQ6Nm2eNrTcWvWr34g4wPJocqzaHLAs1fncmFUx9cf3mdz87jARxJJIyAaefgFvfIYWwj9Tr-7f9MIiiglETzqVqb0vZ4b2I3dPEE5otyAxmyRZFdojQW5P_gK7pg737Oh6v1UNLVEJ/s1600/IMG_0536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJcQ6Nm2eNrTcWvWr34g4wPJocqzaHLAs1fncmFUx9cf3mdz87jARxJJIyAaefgFvfIYWwj9Tr-7f9MIiiglETzqVqb0vZ4b2I3dPEE5otyAxmyRZFdojQW5P_gK7pg737Oh6v1UNLVEJ/s320/IMG_0536.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Devil's Chimney</td></tr>
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Buoyed with my 2 E-points it seemed like a good idea the following morning to try Fifth Appendage, after a previous epic failure to even reach the start of the route on my last visit. Cleverly I managed to make exactly the same mistake as last time and the belay at the base of the route was being lapped by the sea, so we had to bail up a nearby HVS. Luckily for me this was Oswald's lead, as it turned out to have next to no gear, and some borderline 5b/c moves, what fun. I tried to atone for this error by leading Headline, an E1 I've been after for ages, but after some to-ing and fro-ing I decided the greasiness was too much to commit to. The youth obviously has stickier hands as he just ignored the slick holds and got his crush on. A cracking route, with a superbly atmospheric mid-height belay above the crashing waves.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifsCQ4mmqSNT3JF7Vm7wH9ALlfav3t7ioilo40zoWjFzOARH-Px3YH6NxMjp-YoesKd3H7A95ul-XsYVRbaEI9uxu6aF1JOMR-LClSYDYvpKWJRLvrn4jxX_2Gmi7Lc_oWrWnjlu3VmJXH/s1600/IMG_0500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifsCQ4mmqSNT3JF7Vm7wH9ALlfav3t7ioilo40zoWjFzOARH-Px3YH6NxMjp-YoesKd3H7A95ul-XsYVRbaEI9uxu6aF1JOMR-LClSYDYvpKWJRLvrn4jxX_2Gmi7Lc_oWrWnjlu3VmJXH/s320/IMG_0500.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goatfight!</td></tr>
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Gwilym was keen for Satan's Slip, so we all headed back to the Slide and I manned up enough to lead the bristly-looking, but very cool line of Shark. The route climbs a prominent arete, with exposure and interest increasing with height and culminating in an exciting sequence laybacking a hidden crack in a superb position. Certainly deserving of more than its single star, and just about tickling its way into E1. After nearly a week of climbing I felt quite battered after that, so I generously let Gwilym follow James up a hard E2, and Oli and I headed back to Arch Zawn, where we climbed a neat little E1 each.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeWqaji7qLGG8g9-oQRmyf7B1RQWCznw17GluK7S08CdVE1E-olRxdUdKbdzvKzVLQUt-_COD2i4B8PkUavr_7SikhThOkPOToxfUymr5s1PbzEn-hUJimA4i6pY75IIFG4XKW38MjMkb/s1600/IMG_0579.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeWqaji7qLGG8g9-oQRmyf7B1RQWCznw17GluK7S08CdVE1E-olRxdUdKbdzvKzVLQUt-_COD2i4B8PkUavr_7SikhThOkPOToxfUymr5s1PbzEn-hUJimA4i6pY75IIFG4XKW38MjMkb/s320/IMG_0579.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gwilym hunting for the elusive runners on Satan's Slip</td></tr>
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The trip finished with a morning climbing in glorious sunshine at Beef Buttress, before we had to get back on the MS Oldenburg and head home. Leaving was made slightly easier by the knowledge that after a week of dry weather the forecast suggested it might rain solidly for the rest of the year. All in all a cracking trip, including my 20th extreme lead of the year and my 3000th trad route. There's still plenty to go back for though. Who knows, maybe one day I'll even make it to the start of Fifth Appendage...Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-47261065520807809822012-09-05T15:34:00.000-07:002012-09-05T15:34:12.146-07:00Curbary Unpsyche<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNGFeFVrLD5CTb8ecupJf7F9bx_yWcsW55Bxgv5CcQybWFvGqHj-1fGdevQKEtdlruYMajX61b_nu0Idl6E4QAG2jiS9h_i2IL0v1wkVGSULBgJRx1KpgnnSQtPZBXwOL22LhvtywYsJgN/s1600/IMG_0342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNGFeFVrLD5CTb8ecupJf7F9bx_yWcsW55Bxgv5CcQybWFvGqHj-1fGdevQKEtdlruYMajX61b_nu0Idl6E4QAG2jiS9h_i2IL0v1wkVGSULBgJRx1KpgnnSQtPZBXwOL22LhvtywYsJgN/s320/IMG_0342.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James getting stuck in</td></tr>
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What is it about Curbar. Why is everything there so hard? I went there on Sunday with Adam, Kate, Hazel, J-Ro and a man called Neil, and in spite of the very amenable weather I was massively uninspired by everything. I belayed James up Cioch Crack, although at one point it looked like he might have to be abandoned to the offwidth gods after taking my advice to "Be at one with the crack" a little over-literally and getting stuck. It turned out he was just ignoring all of the holds.<br />
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Maybe it's because I haven't had a really good day out on grit since March, or maybe it was just because Curbar gives me the willies, but I wasn't really feeling the love for leading anything. All of the VSs looked like they would need more fight than I was prepared to give up for an unstarred VS tick, and as for the HVSs, well, only a hero would tackle one of those... Or James. I channelled my enthusiasm into belaying him up Tree Wall, which looked nice, but steep. It turned out to be nice, but steep. I nearly fell off. Oh dear.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHYw297lDb0msf7fnq7xMIlJVSXXfE_I3Oc2-JEQE90Y6wV42Br8J98B6Qk_-9Mo4ySompDOEzNTkRSV6Y3rw1sIHbG9IijliNA1rvVekuDYYjvjTwxAjbfHJIlyov7n7nfgJ1sVu2LUyK/s1600/IMG_0345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHYw297lDb0msf7fnq7xMIlJVSXXfE_I3Oc2-JEQE90Y6wV42Br8J98B6Qk_-9Mo4ySompDOEzNTkRSV6Y3rw1sIHbG9IijliNA1rvVekuDYYjvjTwxAjbfHJIlyov7n7nfgJ1sVu2LUyK/s320/IMG_0345.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My, this looks like a whole bucketful of fun...</td></tr>
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After belaying Neil on an exciting (but ultimately successful) foray up Black Nix Wall I did lead the VS next to it just because I felt like I ought to lead something. And then it was home time. 3 routes in 5 hours. Not impressive. The moral of the story is to be more psyched. Or remember how grit works, or just stay the hell away from Curbar.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIBSaJwcZAuRXsh0Z9LjQEq8Q8_En6t7NOiS-cMR6ao_Woiu-0rDelk7okeweRLCawYX-cuKiZx-tuvw3aQ2o24Xf7aR6XdBRq_rkpKmsA_zeZDZAllzRYZK7LZsVr5n_h_oGiWzXeo_C/s1600/IMG_0349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHIBSaJwcZAuRXsh0Z9LjQEq8Q8_En6t7NOiS-cMR6ao_Woiu-0rDelk7okeweRLCawYX-cuKiZx-tuvw3aQ2o24Xf7aR6XdBRq_rkpKmsA_zeZDZAllzRYZK7LZsVr5n_h_oGiWzXeo_C/s320/IMG_0349.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neil on The Bear Hunter</td></tr>
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On a more positive note, I'm off to Lundy on Saturday week. I've been regaining my psyche via perusing the guidebook this evening and making a little list of routes I want to do. At 30, there are far too many to actually do in a week, but it's good to be ambitious. I've made sure to include a winning combination of chimneys, girdle traverses, vertical gardens and E1 corners. And Satan's Slip for some reason. Bring it on.Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1423504949908729026.post-79366890633871936412012-08-24T13:56:00.000-07:002012-08-24T13:56:07.590-07:00Questing In The Midge-Ridden Wilderness - Part II<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After the sunshine at Reiff the forecast was a bit dodgier, with gale force winds promised, but we reasoned that might keep the midges at bay at least and headed for Diabaig. I'd heard nothing but good things about the place, and once we'd negotiated the tortuous windy road from Torridon we were rewarded with a view of The Pillar looking all ace. We were both dead keen to lead this, but there was somebody on it so we wandered past to the Main Wall, where there was a four star HVS to warm up on. There were no gales, but there was just enough breeze rolling around to keep us safe, and the climbing was outstanding; long pitches on beautiful rough Gneiss, with brilliant gear and cool moves. Route Two was amazing, as was The Black Streak, so we wandered back down to the foot of The Pillar, which looked even acer at close quarters. James ran off to get some water from the car, and the second he left the breeze dropped and the midges swarmed. I spent some of the least pleasant minutes of my life lying in the long grass with my trousers tucked into my socks and a waterproof on, sweating like I was in a Turkish bath and feeling generally miserable about the unfairness of it all. Guttingly the wind didn't return, so as soon as James got back we ran away.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnwCURubC5_q047ML-I6rSCW-M78I42-y3fGjGZT7FYoEPNKOwG2SKAyfuLEhPlhFtmiB4RHzfl9NgA_cOcau8ZujDTIM51m_yfX9enY2Zpig0wBT0RJ9IE37y3dDLXID4EO3MnXrWz7f/s1600/IMG_0244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnwCURubC5_q047ML-I6rSCW-M78I42-y3fGjGZT7FYoEPNKOwG2SKAyfuLEhPlhFtmiB4RHzfl9NgA_cOcau8ZujDTIM51m_yfX9enY2Zpig0wBT0RJ9IE37y3dDLXID4EO3MnXrWz7f/s320/IMG_0244.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Contemplating the crux of The Black Streak</td></tr>
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We had plans to meet Matt (the erstwhile Mr <a href="http://fiendophobia.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Fiend</a>) in Gairloch that evening, so we managed a quick evening hit on a weird little crag of partially-metamorphosed sandstone (kind of conglomerate-y) called Aztec Tower. We tossed a coin again for the rights to the crag classic HVS, which I won, but was let down by the route being a) not very hard b) not very good and c) not very well protected. James' neighbouring VS was altogether more enjoyable.<br />
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After rendezvousing with Matt and spending a night in the ridiculously expensive campsite in Poolewe we had a slow start and needed some caffeine and a giant scone in the frankly awesome Mountain Cafe in Gairloch to get us going. We then decided to brave the gales and pay the craglets around Loch Tollaidh a visit. They were ace (actually I'd been before, but I'd forgotten my rock shoes that time and had to lead a couple of VDiffs in Alistair's giant clown shoes) and much fun was had by all. James in particular had a good day, leading Buena Vista a brilliant E2 slab.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBs9CPpD2RKrd2zaj3jBw6iFn4bf0DS6O_52x-PQnKYWqJ_donU4WBRg7e5XKc7PZB3RsveEYbnoKa3KlD5HbCNnJtVmk4ebL-WHgg1jfRCHMH5pTcc6DtTPBmr_xQRI-YiW37RU9bGOtk/s1600/IMG_0267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBs9CPpD2RKrd2zaj3jBw6iFn4bf0DS6O_52x-PQnKYWqJ_donU4WBRg7e5XKc7PZB3RsveEYbnoKa3KlD5HbCNnJtVmk4ebL-WHgg1jfRCHMH5pTcc6DtTPBmr_xQRI-YiW37RU9bGOtk/s320/IMG_0267.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some pleasant HVS at Loch Tollaidh</td></tr>
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That evening we drove down to Skye and set up base camp at Sligachan for a few days. The forecast was still windy and a bit showery, but we took a punt in the morning on Kilt Rock, and we arrived to find it sunny and lapped by a gentle breeze. Perfect. There were a few other climbers around, so I thought it best to get on with the main event as soon as possible before I had time to talk myself out of it, or somebody else got on it. Grey Panther is the easiest route in Extreme Rock, so it was a possibly unique chance for me to get a tick in the book. It had also been top of my mental wishlist for a long time, so I was a bit apprehensive, but a peer down the line from the top reassured me that it looked totally awesome. The route didn't disappoint, with 45m of continuously great climbing, bridging between two jamming cracks. None of the moves felt particularly tricky, and the crux for me was probably trying to conserve my hand-width cams for when I would really need them. I managed this so successfully that I got to the top with them all still on my harness. I even only placed 16 runners, which was very sparing by my usual standards (I'd taken 21 quickdraws). The climbing was actually very reminiscent of routes on The Prow at Fairhead. Mmm, must go back there some time soon.<br />
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Afterwards, whilst bathing in the warm glow of self-awesomeness, I tried to egg Oswald into tackling one of the other major E1/2 cracks, but he was afraid. Instead we ticked off a pair of three star routes in the descent gully, an HVS and a VS, which were both pretty stout at their respective grades. This wasn't the spur that the youth needed to get on harder things, so we left and paid a visit to Flodigarry. After hacking over the tedious heather for an age we reached the top of the crag. James had idea that he might try an E2, but we couldn't pick out the line, so we agreed that he should lead the three star HVS I'd been keen on, and then we could run away for a cup of tea, dinner, and the pint that he owed me. The route, Lucy In The Sky, was a little gem, taking a slabby crack with sustained mild interest right to the top.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbSbWN4GULqMQ0if-hLbhQFw3mgMPNuTlr5iXl9C1xF98buq8LBT0OWJoD3AnqYwsj31RY9Jk7gPt51mPBo-29D8UlxSRK79Y0rb96G0S9Xf93FcylVuhdjzn2_R-tEHnzNCHXVHZ1FJT/s1600/IMG_0283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbSbWN4GULqMQ0if-hLbhQFw3mgMPNuTlr5iXl9C1xF98buq8LBT0OWJoD3AnqYwsj31RY9Jk7gPt51mPBo-29D8UlxSRK79Y0rb96G0S9Xf93FcylVuhdjzn2_R-tEHnzNCHXVHZ1FJT/s320/IMG_0283.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The forecast the next day seemed more stable, with clear skies in prospect, so we took a gamble on being able to find something out of the wind in Coire Lagan. Our first objective, The Klondyker, seemed to be just about out of the gusts, so we set off. James lucked out and got the two good pitches, whilst I had the easy link pitches, but the route was ace. The crux pitch was a long, sustained 5a wall, with a touch of rather 5b-ish spice thrown in pulling round a small roof. The gear was excellent, but it felt worthy of an E-point. This was later confirmed when we bumped into Mike Lates, who literally wrote the guide but admitted to never having done the route, and he told us he'd heard from reliable sources it was worth an upgrade. The route wasn't over after the second pitch though, with the fourth offering "Space walking on buckets". We had harboured ideas of climbing Vulcan Wall afterwards, but by the time we'd made it back to our bags we were pooped, so we scuttled off to the Sligachan in time for a few (very incompetent) games of pool.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The spacewalk on The Klondyker</td></tr>
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The next day brought another dodgy forecast, but I put my faith in the magical microclimate of Neist, and lo, we were rewarded with more sunshine. I led a lovely VS called Midas Touch, and silly E1 direct start to a classic HVS which involved a couple of sketchy moves with only one good RP2 between me and the ground. James led the classic E0 Security Risk, and then set off up a really good looking E2 - Wall Street. He took ages, which was unfortunate as the base of the route was out of the wind, so I started to get quite badly midged. I had a windproof and a midge net, but my ankles were taking a beating, so I improvised some socks by coiling the rope around my legs. I can't recommend this as a course of action. I ended up with slightly numb, but still midge-destroyed feet. Boo. Anyway, the route was brilliant, up until the capping roof, where things went all wrong and overhanging. I managed to get as far as lurching at a jug, but then couldn't find the arms to pull up into the final groove. So I rested on the rope. Except I was in an awkward position whereby I couldn't actually take much weight off my arms without taking a swing and smacking into a wall. Fail. Eventually I got sufficiently uncomfortable that I laid one on and pulled some heinous manoeuvres to reach the finishing holds. A fine lead by Mr Oswald.<br />
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After that I couldn't take any more, and it was getting on a bit, so we jumped in the car and motored over to the CC hut in Roybridge, where we availed ourselves of the delights of an oven, and comfy beds. Whoop. The next day was showery, so we took a punt on the "Lethal when wet" but allegedly quick drying Creag Dubh (also known, ominously, as Crag Death). Sitting at the bottom of it eating our lunch it was clearly going to need a bit more time to dry off, so I persuaded James that a visit to the distillery at Dalwhinnie was in order. On our return to the crag it was actually dry, so I racked up to have a bash at Inbred, a steep HVS and apparently Dougal Haston's finest new route. It didn't take too many brief ventures onto the holds to decide that there was the potential to get myself into a dangerous position, as the moves were steep and the gear fiddly, so I handed the baton over and belayed James. He made it look fairly easy, and the moves were OK on second. Not that I regretted backing off for a second, especially since as I was part way up the pitch a rain shower started looming ominously. I just managed to beach myself on the belay ledge when the heavens opened and the rock turned to soap. So we sacrificed my sling of irritating shortness and beat a hasty retreat.<br />
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The next day found us climbing at Dunkeld. I did a spot of VS bambering and James led another E2 through some roofs. The climbing wasn't too hard, but the gear for the first roof was pumpy to place, and for the second was a bit weird and uninspiring, so it was just about worth E2. After enjoying my Aunt's hospitality we spent the last day of the holiday climbing at Auchinstarry - Scotland's answer to a Lancashire quarry. It wasn't actually that bad, although my three star VS was a bit underwhelming, and the 2 star VS 4b arete I soloed was quite terrifyingly sandy. And then after one more route it was over and we had to drive back south again. In the rain. Bah. Still, it was an awesome fortnight, we got loads done, and saw loads more that I want to go back for (especially The Pillar). Next on the agenda is Lundy in September. Bring it on...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Promontory Direct at Auchinstarry - A refugee from Wilton in the central belt</td></tr>
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<br />Victim of Mathematicshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13288493084986777851noreply@blogger.com0