Venturing More Than 6' Off The Ground

I 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.

You can't beat a good sandbagging...

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...

Sun!

Getting stuck into some traditional VDiff action

C..C..Caley

A 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.

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?

Jaime finessing her footwork

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.

Gluttony And Sloth

If 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.

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.

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).

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...

The Harsh Realities Of A Pie-Based Diet

After 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. 

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.

 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...

Wrestling The Cratcliffe Bear

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.

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.

James' best recreation of the classic shot of Dawes on Kaluza Klein. One can barely tell the difference...

 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...

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.

Enjoying the post-crux jugs on Fern Hill

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, that one). 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.

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.

Chillaxing in The Bower

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.

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. 

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...

Froggattlove

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.

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).

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.

Eigenquiche getting his crush on

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.

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...

Piano-playing rightwards, like a white Thelonius Monk

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!

Going Nowhere Fast

Good things about this week:
I got out climbing 3 times mid week
I got a Hard Rock tick (Valkyrie, on my winter list of gritpsyche too)
I got a soft E-point (Easter Rib, also on the gritlist)
I climbed my 250th HVS
We saw a kestrel flying around at Froggatt, and a massive stag on the walk back to the car
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.

Raptors ftw

Bad things about this week:
Being rained off Froggatt after only one route
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)
Nearly getting hypothermia belaying James on The Big Crack
Having to use a point of aid whilst seconding aforementioned crack (I blame a combination of very cold hands and extreme uselessness)
Not getting to do Motorcade or Brown's Eliminate, in spite of visiting Froggatt twice. Shakes fist in the general direction of the crag.