Much Ado About Not Much

Auld Lang Syne

2012-01-01T11:58:00.002Z

I found myself singing "Oh Jonny, Jonny GGGGGGGGGG........" to the tune of 'Auld Lang Syne' last night.

Happy New Year everyone!!

Training reflections.........and some more Grit

2011-12-23T13:48:00.002Z

Not injured anymore (touch wood). Plane to Spain to escape the rain, no more pain from the bad weather restrain, time to train etc etc. What's it called when words rhyme like that? Alliteration? Onomatopoeia? Who knows. Anyway. Time to train. Yes.....

I've given training a bash before with limited success. I've found that it's very, very easy to talk the talk with training but it's another thing altogether to invest the time and effort into persevering with it. That was until I moved to the Lakes, met a few very good, very dedicated people and saw the benefits first hand. That's the first step, for me anyway. Seeing the product (a horrible way to think of people....let's try acorn instead)......seeing the acorn developing into a tall oak (a pretty poncey way to think of it.....let's try book, this after all being a blog of words).....seeing the book turn from a collection of blank pages to a few chapters, to a novel, to a series etc etc etc is pretty inspiring (what was my original point?!?)

The addressing of weaknesses within oneself amongst the peer-performance orientation of climbing takes a very strong and determined personality. To look at yourself and decide that the next few weeks, months or years are going to see a systematic breakdown of your climbing performance, in front of friends and strangers, in the final pursuit of an often invisible target (by which I mean the massive placing of trust in your methods towards a goal that at times is not obvious at all) demands courage and faith. Climbing is such that gains are often hard to come by. The only balancing factor is the trust that it will be worth it, that you are willing and prepared for the inevitable drop in performance to become a better, stronger climber.

I haven't been able to show that level of commitment (an interesting parallel to other important concepts/things that I'm mulling over outside of climbing....hmmm) towards climbing and, as I say, I perhaps would never have addressed them had I not had such a massive change of scenery, perspective and circumstance by moving to the Lakes. Even then I spent a lot of the summer just plodding away getting out in the good weather......I had a lot of fun don't get me wrong, but I was still getting burned off by the folks I was climbing with (nothing like a little bit of competition to stoke the fire!) and decided enough was enough. The board was ace (Rich Simpson seems to think so anyway!)

Then I got injured. Balls. Everything happens for a reason and everything has a lesson to be learned. The injury took me totally away from climbing. I reignited my other interest.....fell-running. I'd been doing bits and bobs over the months but nothing serious. It was through fell-running that I discovered just how hard you can push your body and some pseudo-masochistic switch was flicked. I thought I'd had hard training sessions on the board before that but in running training you literally push yourself to point of being sick, day-in, day-out. With climbing your train to test yourself on rock, something that you can do whenever the sun shines. In fell-running there is perhaps a race once every 2 weeks in your local area, sometimes longer. Training then takes on a deeply personal feel, you need massive amounts of motivation to get up in the pissing rain to do hill reps on some obscure Lakeland fell or go for a long run over the back when the clag's down.

Something I read the other day by a famous (though you will probably never have heard of him - go figure) mountain runner called Billy Burns (fell-runnings' Malc Smith??) brought it home very clearly, he said "In running I found something where I could test myself against myself. It was always painful, always hard work, but was often meditative. The pain gave me perspective. Pain is an unavoidable reality. It is up to the runner whether he can take any more." He went on to say "Everything in life is a challenge. You can accept the challenge to improve. Or you can bask and distract yourself with success. It's up to you. After all, sport is about personal growth......."

Now I'm not suggesting going out and climbing till your fingertips start screaming at you, but just ask yourself 'how much effort do I really put in and have I ever found my limit?' I know I haven't and that's perhaps the biggest motivator of all. Knowing that really there is no limit. There are infinite ways to improve. I'm pretty psyched on getting super strong so I can tear the rock apart piece by piece thereby creating new holds and thus new problems for the next generations to come along and try. I want my footwork to become so good that I can push down on toehooks. I want such good technique that the Queen requests that I change my name to Flaggy McDropknee. It's all attainable but it requires dedication, effort and faith.....like everything in this world of ours. Remember. PERSISTENCE = WINNERS.

NB: for more 'Billy-isms' have a butchers at this.

On another note, went down to the grit the other day. Was good. Esther FINALLY got The Green Traverse ticked. Dave tickled the top of Deliverance. I pottered around. Checked out Raven Tor on a wet day. Cool place like! Minced about on The Weedkiller Traverse as the routes were damp. Dave took some pics below.......

Divergence

2011-12-14T09:16:00.000Z

So since i've been injured (i'm back climbing now mind) i've had to look for something else to do to stop me regressing into a vegetative state of both body and mind. I've read a few books, which have been great for the mind but leaves the body with some catching up to do. I dabbled a bit in the Spring and Summer months with a bit of fell running, so when the injury came I had nothing else really to do but see where that took me.

I'd done some minor 10k races on the roads and trails and thought I was hot shit. Fell racing is a touch different and I got my pants pulled down when I went in for the Langdale Horseshoe, a 14 mile beast taking a circular route (as is a 'horseshoes' wont) to and from my frontdoor (the weather wasn't quite as good as the article suggests from last years' race). I managed a bit of respectability with my placing but it can get a bit humbling when the results sheet shows that you've been spanked by a LOT of Vet40s and 50s! Guys and girls twice your age and more!

With some thought and a bit of cunning I decided that my endurance heyday was still to come and that if I want to delay the embarrassment of further beatings by the granny and grandads of the Lakes it would be more prudent for me to focus on shorter, steeper races. The next race I managed was a straight up and down affair in neighbouring Wasdale, a quick hop over Scafell from where I'm living in Langdale. Starting and finishing at The Screes Inn (a pub is where all good runs should aim for) you pretty much put your blinkers on and freestyle it for the top of Whin Rigg (a hill) and back. Due to the lowly nature of the race, and it conveniently clashing with other more important races elsewhere in the country, I was able to sneak in a cheeky 5th place despite getting a bit lost on finding the correct way down!

Getting the bug a bit I carried on the fluke by getting a pretty decent 16th at the Dunnerdale, a super fast horseshoe on the southern edge of the Lakes, and a surprising, and actually disappointing, 8th at the Kirkby Moor - a stupid nav error losing me the advantage and pushing me down from a very feasible 5th. Ah well.

In between times I have, honestly, been climbing. Had a couple of good trips down to the Peak bouldering and routing - with Esther (STILL crushing) cruising her first E6, got reaquainted with the Bowderstone and discovered the awesomeness of Chapel Head for bouldery sport climbing! All can be good again......just in time for the winter rains!!

Off to the grit again over the next few days. Maybe do something of note. Maybe won't. There's some photos of things up there.......not taken by me you understand.

Injury arghhhhhhhh

2011-08-24T17:40:00.001+01:00

And August had started so well too! I passed the last hurdle in my Army selection, the four-day Army Officer Selection Board, at the end of July. To celebrate i fell off my bike and separated my shoulder. Prognosis - a grade 2/3 separation, 3 months out. Cock.

I now have a nice lump on my shoulder that will stay as a reminder that scrumpy is bad for you in any quantity. I also can't do ANYTHING with it. It's really frustrating cos all the guys and girl i climb with are out crushing and having a ball and all i can do is swim. I AM NOT A GOLDFISH!

All of you who have ever been injured....NOW i know your pain. It sucks. It could have been worse yes, but it could also have been avoided. That's the frustration. Not much more to say really. Hope all is good where you are and make the most of the good days, you'll appreciate having them during the bad ones!

An Inspiring Title.....

2011-07-20T10:36:00.002+01:00

Been having a fair bit of fun up in the Lakes for the past few months and over the next week and a bit I'll be able to find out how soon all that will be coming to an end - if at all. In many ways I hope it doesn't, and vice versa!

Alas the weather has been a big thing in sorting my ratio between running and climbing. I'm happy to say it's been about 40:60 respectively. Not bad eh? Been climbing a lot on the board so hopefully I'll soon be noticing the benefits of it on the big project down at Kilnsey.

The good thing about the Lakes, one of them at least, is that there's always some psyched people knocking about. Even better is that I'm by far the weakest of them all and yet they still seem cool about dragging me along! Bonus. Had a great day out the other week with Esther up on Dow. That girl's a crusher! It was AWESOME weather and yet I could count the amount of other climbers on one hand..........get outside you fucks!!

So anyway we managed to get ourselves up the crag classics of Isengard (HVS), Samba Pa Ti (E2), Holocaust (E4) and Tumble (tricky E4). Felt pretty beat up afterwards for sure. Especially after following Esther up Tumble.......shit me that's a sustained bit of climbing but the girl didn't even look pushed and brushed it aside with a modesty I envy. Watch this space for some hard E-numbers from her in the future! It's good to get back on the proper onsight train though.....definitely makes the climbing a lot more interesting. On the reverse though, I now have a list a long as I imagine my *whoopsie* to be of routes that I want to do. It's now a race against the weather as to whether we'll be able to get them done!

When it is raining I try to get out running. Had a shit 10k race the other week in Hawkshead, which has signalled the end of my road-racing career....definitely prefer the off-road stuff. With that in mind me and Bob ran the classic Old Counties Tops fell run taking around 11 hours - a pretty poor effort but we're gonna give it another bash to get a more respectable time I promise! (The pics below are: view from halfway down Scafell Pike [the second of the 3 'Tops'] towards Great Moss - a whopper bog - and a long way behind that hill, the Old Man of Coniston the last of the 'Tops' - arse; us at Helvellyn - still looking fresh; me and Bob on Scafell Pike - I'd just hit what I now understand as 'the wall' - arse, again; the easiest E3 in the world??)

The big running proj..... is the Langdale Horseshoe fell race which comes up sometime in October. It's the local - as local as it gets given that it starts 300m from my door - one so there's no excuse not to give it a right old effort. There's some proper mountain goats out there though!!

Anyway got my mid-year resolution......buy a new bastard camera!

NB: got some photos up for you now Micah. Just. For. You.

It's been a while......

2011-06-13T23:34:00.000+01:00

Yeah so the internet here is pretty shoddy, hence the mahoooooosive delay in anything that resembles written blogerature.

I've been pretty busy, running about the fells like a dog with six dicks trying to climb as much as possible dodging the showers and tourist bastards.........I easily forget that i was once one myself - hypocrisy is bliss!

I've not got any photos to back this post up by the way so it's gonna be short and to the point. Firstly, as you may have guessed, I am alive and well. I've been climbing lots, as I already alluded to, both outdoors on the crags and indoors on the infamous 'kitchen board' (more on that 45 degree overhanging monster-maker in a later post). Managed to sketch my way up a nice little E6 at Shepherd's Crag, got a 7b second go at Malham and just a couple of days ago a Birkett E7 on the Scout Crags. All good like. Can't beat a bit of board power!

Biggest news of them all though........da-da-da-da-da-da-daaaaaaaaa.........came 3rd (!!!!) in the Grasmere 10k race yesterday. Fuck knows how but the stats don't lie!

Some recent developments........

2011-04-16T13:36:00.001+01:00

Yeah some things have a way of working themselves out eh? I've been on the dole for about 5 weeks now and not been outdoors since December (climbing that is) so what better way to celebrate having no money and no recent trad history by going to that hallowed crucible of English climbing - the Lakes. Whilst there I got offered a job. Success! I move up on Monday and should hopefully be there till around December. So if you're around in Langdale and fancy a pint, come into the Old Dungeon Ghyll and say 'how do marra' (that's the closest translation I can get to of Cumbrian).

Did some really cool, and some not so really cool, routes at Stanage on Thursday. Good times.

Also, jobs are like buses. No sooner had I been offered that job up in Langdale then I had no less than 4 phone calls either offering interviews or work within the space of 2 days. Bastards! Think I got the best deal out of it though. Quids in.

I'm gonna be posting from Jonny-land come this time next week - that's if I have any finger tips left! Best get practicing with a pencil between the teeth.

Ever attainable goals?

2011-04-08T16:07:00.000+01:00

Hands up everyone of you who has a route that they've wanted to do for, well, ever and has kept putting it off, and putting it off, and putting it off and......well you can see where this is going! I know I have anyway! And now I know I'm not the only one! Come on admit it! Don't be shy we're all in this together, you won't look stupid in front of your friends. I'm gonna take it as a given then, on your behalf, without your permission. I bet at least half of you are MORE than capable of climbing that route, I for one know very well that I'm good enough for maybe half the routes I have in mind and yet...........and yet.

And yet have we done them? What are we all so afraid of? We're not pussys are we? Tell me we're not little sissys?!? Most of us - yes I'm looking at YOU Micah - are in a direct battle against the inexorable detriments of age for, as the graph below quite clearly shows, beast-ness decreases with age.

I've got a list as long as my arm of routes that I want to do, except that now they're not routes that I want to do, they're routes I've done, or am going to do. YEAH! So rather than this being a lament of opportunity lost I beg you to see this post as a rallying cry, a call to arms (quite literally if you'll accept the pun) to end this culture of fear that envelopes the 'dream' route. Onsight? Flash? 3rd go? 19th go?? It's all nonsense. You're just as likely to fall off it from being so nervous about falling off it as you are if you're body isn't quite ready for it. Have a positive mindset and give it boar. Surprise yourself. Have a fight, there's no shame in crying like a girl in the noble deed of slaying a route.

Brothers! Sisters! Scream with me! ARGGGHHHHHH!!!!! That's it!! aaaaaaaaAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!! Feel better? Of course you do. So what if you're in public?! So what if you've been asked to leave the coffee shop?? It was most likely shit coffee anyway, you can buy some beans and brew your own right??!! Well go on then! Go forth! Brew!! Send!! Brew to celebrate! Send some more!!!

Too much coffee for me I think. Good times and happy days my friends!

Top 3-ish Moments in Climbing

2011-04-01T17:17:00.001+01:00

Uh oh i fear i may have opened up a can or 2 (or 3 if you will) of worms here. This title suggests that i may soon be inundated with every Tom, Dick and Reginald's story of "the day i sent V0-" or "the day i conquered Malvern hill". Well hoo-la-la (just ignore me i'm undersexed and jealous)!

It was pretty hard to think of the moments i'm about to share with you. Some of them are just that, moments, in the strictest sense of the term, others cover 'moments' drawn out over hours and, maybe, days. In truth i'm continuing to waffle on like this to buy some time while i think of any.........got one........and another.......the third??......err.........yup! That last bit wasn't a commentary of me wanking (jerking off in Yankspeak) by the way. And you're back in the room!

Now that we're all friends again i'll begin..........

1. The 30 mins of direct sunshine that lit up the east face of Stok Kangri resulting in a spectacular, momentary, chain of events, namely, and in third person context - George sees the most incredible view that he has ever seen in his life, George sees the rope linking him to Jim, George sees the precariousness of their position on the steepest section of the face, George sees the rope linking him to Jim in a significantly different light (the sun was still shining so it wasn't that), George looks to his left and sees fresh avalanche tracks some 100-200m distant, George smiles and thinks 'this is a great place to die but i'd really rather not!'

2. The moment when i was soloing Flying Buttress Direct and turned to see a hot university girl watching me, gave her a smutty 'Dick Dastardly' wink and cut-loose one handed on the first overhang. What a dickhead! I love the occasional bombastic display of arrogance as much as the next man!

3. The ENTIRE journey round California and Oregon in 2009. Wa-wa-wee-wa! If i HAD to pick highlights they would be, in no particular order........buying a van and driving it; bomb-bursting up to Oregon for what turned out to be no reason whatsoever; climbing at Smith with Dom and Laura; the butterfly that landed on my hand while i was abbing down from Bachar-Yerian; Mammoth Lakes coffee place; the one, the only, I.V.; Shannon's trailer in Santa Cruz; the DIY on the van; the enormity of the Buttermilks; rallying The Duchess round the dirt tracks (sounds kinky); crashing into walls in order to stop; endless coffee; Ben getting a gob-job in L.A.; Amoeba records in L.A.; scientology stalking in L.A.; the time Dom and Micah came to stay; Thanksgiving hospitality in Bishop; people still reading this - well done, i'm proud of you, you're almost there; waking up in the girls bed in I.V. to an awesome view - ahhhh yeahhhhh; hanging out with Sienna, Mariah, Shannon and co. in Santa Barbara; meeting Big Al from the Verdon......this list will outlast me i tell you so i'd better stop!

That is all i guess - well within the self-imposed boundaries at least - can you think of any?

I realise of course that i've asked for 'reader' (as if there are any) input on these kind of things before, all of which have ended in abject failure....but you never know! And seriously i don't give a poop about your V1 redpoint okay?! Relax, i do really.

Lay-Zee

2011-02-12T19:05:00.000Z

Not much has been going on. Still plugging away. Here, for your enjoyment, is a video from Davey Gill showing the 'lost' days leading up to our arrival at Smith Rock, on our ill-fated US Brass Band Tour '09..........The first days of The Duchess

Dark Horses No. 4

2010-11-14T15:08:00.001Z

What is happening?? I barely even know who this next guy is and yet here i am preparing to let him into a pretty exclusive club of stallions. Why? Well, without giving too much away, he has a way of leaving a lasting impression on all he meets with his general attitude towards life and people, and his ability to 100% kill the rock! In the curious position of being both one of the most opaque of Dark Horses and yet possessed of an incredible lightness of being.....people of the world i give you - Nicholas Isaac Mathis.

In lieu of any exotic location where climbing 'journalists' catch up with their prospective stars the quest for a piece on Nick has been long and fraught (with laziness on my part) and so some of these answers of his may very well be but a distant memory, but i'm sure the principles that he stands by are as solid as ever. With not undue ado this if for you.....

1. What first got you into climbing on rocks?
My dad - he wasn't a climber, but very open minded and willing to let his 6 year old kid explore new pursuits. I didn't really get into it though (i.e. buying my own climbing shoes/chalk bag) until I was a freshman at Humboldt State University getting high, on the rocks, of Moonstone beach in Northern Cali.

2. Do you make a conscious decision to crush every time you go out or is it just a coincidence?
I can't help it. I'm awaiting a pending 6 figure sponsorship deal to produce my own line of fruit juices (squeezed by my own hands). In reality, my relationship with climbing on rock is a lot different than in the gym. Outdoors its a partnership - my inspiration, the rocks, the vibe of the place, whether that leads me to gunning for the anchors of a 5.12 onsight or strolling up a 3 pitch 5.6 trad route. Climbing indoors, conversely - its usually all business - trying to progress with the quickness ...that or goofing off with friends. The sesh depends on the attitude/aptitude of who I'm climbing with.

3. What holds your interest in climbing? What's your favourite challenge?
Big wall free climbing (sorry boulderers). Don't get me wrong, it's all rock climbing, but my journey with climbing is leading me to the bigger multi pitch rigs. That's my favorite challenge. What holds my interest in climbing are the paradoxes it elicits from me: vulnerability/strength, fear/serenity, complexity/simplicity, nature/nurture, intuition/technique, certainty/doubt, etc.

4. Is climbing a sport or a lifestyle?
Although climbing necessitates fitness and does influence lifestyle, for me, climbing is spiritual.

5. Is it hard maintaining your fitness while studying away in DC?
&@#% yes! I live 45 minutes by metro from the nearest climbing gym (which costs more than I'm accustomed to), the nearest outside areas are either gang-infested or (worse) top-rope only. I spend a lot of time trying to use my Moon (George - other products are available - just not as good) hang board, and I run/bike.

6. How much - if at all - do you train/structure your training to achieve maximum effort out on the rocks?
I've noticed fitness for tall, lanky persons like me really boils down to the core/abdominal muscles so I focus on that. I do as little as possible with the fingers...injury prevention is a higher priority for me now. In my eight years of steady climbing, the best training I've found for climbing is rest. People like us who are psyched on climbing have a tendency to overdo it. What else?... I've reaped the benefits of Eric Horst's books as well as this site: http://www.rockclimbing.com/Articles/Training_and_Technique/The_Making_of_a_Rockprodigy__258.html toyed with a lot of the techniques . Oh yeah, don't be shy to climb and talk advice with the pros.

7. What're your goals for the coming 12 months?

Well, this summer I ticked my hardest sport climb - Chronic, 8a/5.13b at Little Si's World Wall 1 in Washington state, USA (see below). I am restructuring my beliefs right now about what goals are possible to achieve. I'm planning a spring break trip, where I'd like to "earn my keep" in the 5.13 range. It'd be cool to get up a v10 boulder and do a one-arm pull up sooner or later. In the short-term, I'm going to fully recover from a nagging hamstring injury and un-freeze my gym membership lol.

8. How much of your personal style is dictated by the person you are? Do you become your alter-ego when climbing?

My personal style - of climbing - is all about the swag; I wear a helmet - an orange one. My climbing style is also very vocal - I use the "SharmOndra" scream! My alter-ego is NICHOLAS MADNESS first witnessed and coin-phrased by our friend Micah....my alter ego is characterized by a heightened state of uninhibited insane effort and total commitment .

9. Would you agree that 'how' you climb something is more important than simply getting up the thing - your thoughts on it too?
Good question George. Yes I whole heartedly agree. Things I'm impressed by are: environmental stewardship (e.g. picking up other peoples' trash they litter), building on the lineage of testpieces, onsight ground up ascents, climbers who leave hard routes natural for future generations, climbers who move fluid like a brush on canvas, big walls scaled with no hardware left behind, locals developing climbing areas, climbers who've been at it for 30, 40, 50+ years.
I feel it's important to point out that the HOW of my climbing continues to evolve through my own experiences and the lessons gleaned from others.

10. Any plans to climb abroad? How do you think the US climbers are viewed in Europe and vice versa?
Us Yankees have a great deal left to learn from the rich climbing traditions in the UK and throughout the rest of Europe. Guys like me think we're badass climbing 8a, when in Europe, everyone does it as a warmup....more importantly though, is how European societies have welcomed climbing as an acceptable, popular, interesting, and serious activity...newsworthy even! As for Europe's perceptions of US climbers, I think "Team America's" performance on the UK's Gritstone impressed people, the US' boulderers are known to be strong, and our best climber over there is Sharma.
Regarding my travels. I am planning on climbing trips through Spain, Greece, France, Switzerland, Germany, and Turkey in Europe once I graduate nursing school. Life is long and the world is a small place, so live well, and make lots of friends. God bless. NM.

Sage advice there kids, that you'd all do well to follow.

NB: Might have stolen that last picture from Micah, but then what're you gonna do Micah huh?? HUH?!? Also - dunno who took the others but they're GOOD.

The Return

2010-10-14T19:20:00.000+01:00

Here ye, here ye! I shall be coming to a country near you in summer 2011. Write it in your diaries. That is all.

The India Diaries: Stok Kangri

2010-08-27T13:28:00.001+01:00

As i was saying, before being rudely interrupted by an internet disruption caused by an interruption in the power supply to this house.......hold on, i've lost where i was. Sorry for the unnecessary interruptions. Stok Kangri, all 6,137m of it - or 6,121m, or 6,153m depending on who you ask - is a big bitch by European, African, South American and, pretty much, North American standards. In fact it'd be fair to say it's none to shabby by Himalayan standards either. So why was it that we're trying to climb a mountain which sits higher than any other point of land on pretty much every other continent on Earth?? Good question. Neither of us are exactly seasoned men of the mountains and between us we've amassed a total altitude gain of 5,893m (that was Jim by the way on Kilimanjaro - 6 years ago!!). Well i'm just gonna blame it on Jim and leave it at that. It was his idea after all.

As you may remember this was meant to be a "trekking peak" (there's those ironic speech marks again!) and, as you may have guessed already - especially given said ironic speech marks and now the bold casing for 'meant' - a "trekking peak" it was not. Thus the "trekking peak" moniker became one of "adventurous plodding". The main reason for the change in status was predominantly due to the unseasonably late snowfall which, while dramatic and impressive from Leh-level, was a right slap in the balls for aspiring trekkers cum adventurous plodders, such as ourselves. Given such conditions, and after consultation with more experienced locals, we came to the conclusion that it would probably cost the same to hire guides and all equipment as it would to cover the cost of sending people up to recover our bodies and fly them home. With this choice we perhaps understandably went for the guide option. I'll let the diary take over.........

Friday 25th June -
Pricing for exped. to Stok Kangri - 2 choices: Tenzing = HERO Rs10,000 or Anis = PRO Rs10,000 - went with the 'pro'.

Sunday 27th June -
Rs500 deposit to Anis @ Western Tibet Expeditions - PAID. Seems like an honest, professional fella (he was).

Monday 28th June -
S.K. Acclimatisation Test 11am up to 4,000m = v.easy. GOOD!!

All good so far. Leh being where it is at around 3,500m coupled with our having been there for about a week made us well acclimatised and in good stead for the acclimatisation test (the sign of a professional company in a town where trekking companies outnumber the 'Tibetan markets' - no mean feat). I should probably mention at this point that i'd forgotten to pack my sleeping bag - at all - and as such i was glad of the chance to use one as provided in the 'all equipment' inclusion clause in the price of the expedition. Another reason not to 'go it alone'.

Tuesday 29th June -
Met our guides - Ghompal (see below in usual pose), Raj and ...... (i forgot the cook's name - sorry!!). Stok Kangri - pre basecamp night 4,500m (see the view to the summit above). Game of cricket with the guides and campground people (also above). Raj bowls at 145kph (80-90mph).

Wednesday 30th June -
Stok Kangri - basecamp 5,000m. Left for summit 11.30pm.

Thursday 1st July -
Had to go direct (harder) up S.E. face due to avalanches on other approaches - 400m took over 5 hours due to deep snow and poor vis. First to summit S.K. in July - all other teams turned back. Topped out 7.49am, back by 11am. Hardest thing i've ever done in my life!!! Next time James suggests taking a big rucksack with spare clothes etc either make him carry the fucker up and YOU carry it down. Doing it the other way round will kill you next time. It may be big but it's not clever!

There's not a huge amount to say about the days leading up to and immediately after the summit day, but i am gonna dwell a bit on the happenings of July 1st (Canada Day) as it had a quite profound effect on how i see myself. Firstly i don't think i've sold the event short when i've said that it was the hardest thing i've ever done in my life so far. Physically it undoubtedly was, but it also showed me the strength you can get from your mental outlook. Physically i could have been in much better shape but mentally, as it showed, i was in a very poor state as i feel sure i would have given up if i'd had the presence of mind to think about the absurdity of what we were doing!

We spent the day of the 30th at basecamp, catching up on some sleep, wandering up to the nearby col for a bit of last minute acclimatisation and generally fannying about. We had the ominous 'last meal' (their words not ours) at around 10pm and got tooled up for the walk - making sure that this bit of metal wasn't going to stab into this bit of flesh etc. Inevitably though it was time to move off. The first little inkling that this may not be the proverbial 'walk in the park' was when we left the col, the summit obscured by a combination of the dark (it being 11.30pm of course) and thick, heavy fog. Luckily we found the path as it traversed round, bisecting the ridgeline, as we were the ones making it! This would be the trend for the next 12 hours. Trail breaking through thigh deep snow, as any snowsports enthusiasts will know, is a proper ball ache. Ascending for over 1000m whilst doing it is akin to having a Parker 'Esparto Gold' fountain pen pushed up your jap's eye - nib first. Not even remotely arousing.

We'd made it to, and across, the glacier (passing what one guide book describes as the ominous 'huge crevasse hole') after a couple of hours stumbling about and now sat resting at the foot of the S.E. face in the ever lightening gloom, putting on our crampons, roping up and chogging down some biscuits and chai. It's this next section that i refer to in my diary as taking 5 hours to ascend just 400m. The steep and unrelenting nature of the ground combined with the fact that we were constantly breaking trail made it a particularly memorable (with the want of it being forgettable) few hours. Every. Single. Step. Was a nightmare battle of willpower, being especially taxing given my distinct lack of calf muscles and the front pointing style of climbing that it was imperative to adopt. It was shortly after we'd begun on the face that dawn broke and with it the clearing of the lingering cloud. The cause for this soon becoming apparent with the 'coming of the sun'!!! A phenomenon that lifted our spirits immensely - until it's effects (when harsh UV rays, unfiltered by air so thin that you have 52% less than at sea level, combine with white, reflective snow ) begin to show a couple of days later in the form of the dreaded 'expressionless' face caused by skin burnt so tight you could deflect bullets.

With the clearing of the clouds and the coming of the sun came the chance to actually see what it was we were on and actually see where we were. I'll leave the photos to explain a bit better than i can.......with little footnotes, naturally (for example - you can see the avalanche steps in the bottom right of the picture below making safe access to the ridge line, rising up from the rocky ground centre and bottom left leading from the top of the glacier, difficult).

The above picture shows our steps as we're peeling away from the S.E. face to join the summit ridge that i talked about in the photo previously - the steepness is not exaggerated! All the while i was stood, oblivious, whilst my face was getting horrendously burnt by a combination of the factors we discussed earlier - remember that far back??

By this stage 6 and a half hours in we were a mess but we still had around 50m to go from our position on the summit ridge to the summit itself. It was here, while gathering our breath that i somehow managed to trick myself into thinking that the carton of mango juice that i was pouring out into the snow was in fact going into my mouth, providing me with much needed energy....make of that what you will! That final 50m of ascent along the ridge "along airy aretes and sections of loose rock" took us over an hour and the physical wall that i'd met some few hundred metres back became a mental pressure cooker of the likes i've never experienced. Physically i was ready to give up even 5m from the summit but we somehow found the desire to push on through and the sheer magnitude of what we'd managed to do when we got there was obvious not by the back slapping and Yankee 'yee-haws' that we'd been building up, but by an overwhelming sense of relief manifesting itself in simple tears and smiles.

Yup i cried. I'm not proud of it but it happened so let's all move on shall we. We're not 12 anymore. James cried too i'm sure. Ghompal didn't. He just sat about, smoked a tab and got ready to do it all again after a short 2-day break. As the photo shows there wasn't a great deal to see on the summit, our sun quota having been filled for the day, so after a little round of handshakes (at last) and a ceremonial bag swap between me and Jim - which i was most relieved about - we started to head down. The walk back along the summit ridge was...err....'interesting', downclimbing loose shale with crampons not being our forte but pretty soon we were back to the relative firmness of the S.E. face, where bum sliding was the order of the day.

One hour later and we were sat where we had stopped on the way up, at the foot of the face above the glacier fresh skid marks in the snow, some white, some not-so-white (it was steep and scary okay!?!). The relatively flat walk back, unhindered by ropes, harnesses and crampons - and in my case the bag - was longer than i'd remembered and the fatigue of the last 11 hours had caught up with us, particularly Jim who was struggling with the bag and waist deep snow. Eventually we stammered back into basecamp to be greeted by urns full of hot, sweet tea and the smiling face of Raj - the happiest man on the planet.

Friday 2nd July -
Feeling like shit all night previously - sunstroke?? Garlic and ginger tea - tastes like shit but works. Sunburn, bloody sunburn - i have been cursed with an expressionless face. Brazil 1 - Holland 2. Uruguay 4 - Ghana 3 (pens).

The walk down on the Friday was uneventful. We set off with Ghompal, Raj, the cook and 'Moomin' man (the donkeyherder) around mid-morning and met up with the driver about 2pm back in the village of Stok. I really admire the the skill and attitude of the two guides and the cook. They worked very hard to give us as easy a time as possible and i'm certain that if we'd have tried to do this by ourselves, hauling all that gear and food up to basecamp and then trying to summit, then without a doubt we'd never have made it. Ghompal, a Tibetan exile, and Raj, as Ladakhi as they come, had to do this all over again with another team of ignorant foreigners after just a 2 day break and it is a testament to how good they are at their jobs that, with equipment that would make Chris Bonnington laugh, they managed to get us to the top and back safely when no other team, of the 5 up there, got further than the start of the S.E. face.

The India Diaries: Part the Second

2010-08-22T12:51:00.000+01:00

So by now you'll know that we're in Leh (what gave it away, right??). Leh is the capital of a region in the state of Jammu & Kashmir called Ladakh covering a little (by Indian standard of course!!) pocket of dry, arid land in the north-east corner of the state bordered by the disputed territories of Kashmir to the west and Tibet to the east. It's at roughly 3,500m above sea level (around two thirds as high as Europe's highest point) and, to be frank, is the most beautiful place i've ever seen - sorry Tuolomne. Actually maybe i was a little bit rash there, Tuolomne is after all INCREDIBLE but maybe, just maybe Leh pips it on the people front too. I'll let the diary explain.........

Leh:
Tuesday 22nd June -
Guesthouse called Otsal - very friendly and cheap. Rs125 each a night!

Wednesday 23rd June -
Wander round Leh - incredible place. The most beautiful i've ever seen. England v Slovenia 7.30pm local time - qualified in 2nd behind USA?!?

Thursday 24th June-
Walked up into Old Leh - Leh Palace and Gonpa's (Buddhist monastaries) + Leh fort: total cost Rs140!! BARGAIN. Amazing places; 3-storey high statue of Buddha in Leh Fort. Leh Palace felt like i hadn't changed a bit since it was last used. I've been to Warwick castle, the Viking exhibition in York, all round Edinburgh and Stirling castles plus many others and Leh Palace is the only place where i've felt a true historical connection as if i would open a door and walk into a scene from the 12th century. Slovakia v Italy - Greatest game of football i've ever. Jim got respect for his Aku boots from a street re-soler, does it get much better than that?!?

Friday 25th June -
Leh is getting busy! Lots of Israeli's mooching about in 'Free Tibet' t-shirts....define irony anyone? Brazil v Portugal - Worst game of football ever (see Thursday 24th June). Walk up to see Shanti Stupa - not bad!!

(Nothing much happened on Saturday)

Sunday 27th June -
England v Germany 7.30pm local time - oh dear! German 'fans' (they're notoriously shite by the way) did the old 'towels on deckchairs' stunt by reserving all the tables at the big screen so no-one else could get a look in. They're such c*nts.

Monday 28th June -
S.K. (Stok Kangri 6,137m) Acclimatisation Test 11am up to 4,000m = very easy. GOOD!! If Carlsberg did bars then the 'Elements' bar in Leh would surely be one of the best bars in the world.......

Yep in case you were wondering - 'why Leh?' - the reason we were up there, and pretty much the reason we were in India at all, was to climb a "trekking peak" (you'll find out the reason for speech marks shortly) called - you guessed it - Stok Kangri in the aptly named Stok range that form part of the western expanses of the mighty Himalayas. We could just about make out Stok Kangri from the window of our room and for those of you who don't know, it looks something like this.........it's the one in the middle at the back. Or, more realistically, like this (see below).

The India Diaries: Part the First

2010-08-18T12:51:00.001+01:00

Not a huge amount has happened of late on the climbing front, hence the lack of posts as this is, ostensibly, my blogs' raison d'etre. I have however been indulging in my other great passion, namely travelling to/bragging to other countries about my fortune to have, in the words of the great Cecil Rhodes (i think you can officially be called 'great' if you have a country named after you), "won first prize in the lottery of life" by being born English.

This time round i was in a country that knows only too well what it is like not to have 'won' the said "lottery of life"........India. A beguiling country lorded over by men such as old Cecil for nearly 100 years in an era known as the 'Raj' until their independence in 1947 - you've heard of Gandhi right?!? Anyway this Raj era can be briefly summed up through the medium of dance, in this instance please note that an aggressive dance denotes a time of great suffering and a happy flowing dance suggests a time of great prosperity..........the Raj-era falls into this category.

Brief introductory points aside our main reason for going (our being myself and Lockwoods own Jim Higgins) was for a wander about in the Himalayas with the hope of some good old Victorian 'peak bagging'. Rather than bore you with the "i did this"/"then we did that" stuff i'm going to just pick up on some completely unadulterated, gen-you-ine snippets of diary entry that i made as we went along. Starting wiiiiitttthhhhhhhhh......................(by the way all the stuff in italics is stuff i'm writing nnnnnnnNOW to clarify points that you wouldn't get unless you were there).

Delhi to Leh:
Friday 18th June -
Arrived India 11am - HOT
Flights from Delhi to Daksum (where?!?) Rs11,000 + chauffer round city from Neeraj, seeing Lotus Temple, India Gate, Houses of Parliament, Shri Lakshmi Narain Temple - all courtesy of Naz (he's FUCKING dodgy by the way).

Saturday 19th June -
Flew from Delhi to SRINAGAR (yeah that's in bastard KASHMIR) 11.15am arr.12.50pm - KASHMIR!!! (see!!). All things sorted by dude called Rammy the local Kashmiri 'fixer'. Srinagar is pretty intimidating. India v Pakistan ODI cricket match. India won - phew! Kingfisher Airlines - WOW!! Saw a real Kingfisher too. Staying on houseboat called 'Peace of Mind' - pissed myself when i saw it. Luxury. Genuinely.

Sunday 20th June -
5 shot in protests over death of another boy in rioting the week before in what the local papers have called 'Bloody Sunday' - MUMMY!!!. Srinagar - the Indian Venice??

Monday 21st June -
Theory: 7.30am bus to Kargil from Srinagar arriving sometime around 5pm. Practice: Nightmare bus. No food until Dras (dhal and chappatti - tasty mind!) 12 hours after setting off. Arrived Kargil around midnight. 16 hours on the road. Delays caused by landslides. Made eye contact with a man shitting in a ditch.

Tuesday 22nd June -
Left Kargil 5.30am and arrived Leh by 6pm. Spent the night on a guys floor for Rs50 (about 35p).

So there we have the first few days in India. How the hoot did we end up in Kashmir?!? Well, a friendly man at New Delhi train station took us under his wing as we looked for the official booking office to source a way of getting from Delhi up to Leh. It's worth noting there are several 'official' travel booking offices in Delhi, and indeed India, but only one of them is actually 'Official', the others merely saying they are as there's no laws to say they can't. Alas this 'helpful' chap told us that the building whose shade we were sheltering in was NOT the official booking office (inspite of the traveller's Bible - Lonely Planet - saying so) and that he knew exactly where the real one was. "If you remember one thing in India, then remember - 'trust no one'!" he said as we waved him goodbye from our rickshaw on our way to his mates' 'tourist information' shop (you've heard of Naz right??).

The Key to Reinspiration..........

2010-05-29T12:55:00.002+01:00

............is gritstone soloing dummy!

Had a day off yesterday from the 'hustle and bustle' of my restaurant job so went up to the Peak with my mate Nick for some form of climbing. We hiked the bags up to Stanage (which i hate - or used to at least) with a view to leading stuff then promptly ditched them and soloed stacks and stacks of easier lines with the crag pretty much to ourselves.

It was AWESOME.

Managed to complete a little goal of mine that i've had for, well, pretty much since i started climbing that was soloing Flying Buttress Direct. It's incredible. I led it first as to be honest it seemed pretty intimidating - think stories of grieving widows leaving wreaths at the foot of it and Devon tradsters full on sketching and lowering onto dodgy gear! Leading it is fun, but if you can climb steep 6a at your local wall then solo it (if you die it's not my fault), you'll absolutely piss it. It's incredible....again. Hanging about on heel hooks from the world's best Dolly Parton's is amazing (apologies for the photo below being so blurred think i was smiling so much i broke the camera!). I think you can award yourself a smug little pat on the back afterwards!

We finished the day with a quick little boulder in the plantation where i managed a quick grab of Green Traverse, a nice little V6 amongst the sheep and trees. Yay!!!

P.S. Went to Wales for a couple of days earlier this week. Got horrifically sunburnt on Cloggy but got some nice routes done, well one nice one (The Troach) and one 'supposed to be nice but is actually over-rated shite' one (White Slab). Went up to the Cromlech the next day to do Right Wall but (notepads at the ready) i was knackered, sunburnt beyond recognition (forgive me skin!!?!), a little feminine, psyched out, keen to get home at a decent time, and not up for queueing sooooo sacked it off and climbed a scary-ass E3 called Memory Lane up the arete of Left Wall. I will go back before India though!!

P.P.S. Heading down to Cornwall tomorrow to see what Sharpnose is all about. Hope the weather holds or i'll kill it!!

Dark Horses No.3

2010-05-27T15:38:00.128+01:00

My next 'Dark Horse' isn't so much a 'horse' as a stallion! A man who pulls down so hard that his hair has fell out! A raw crushing machine running on the powder of trodden down baby bones and lion's blood. Okay ladies he's single, but be warned - he eats his partners after mating. People i give you.....THE CLAW!!!

1. Will you marry me?
Oh George, you’re such a 'bloody minga'…

2. 'The Claw' - how did that name come about? Why do you think you're called that?
I believe YOU started calling me that. Maybe it's because of the way my hand magically transforms into a hideously beautiful gnarled claw-like extension of my body as I crimp and pull my way up rock faces.

3. You seem to have the ability to switch to climbing consistently hard both in sport and bouldering, what's the secret?!?
Drink a lot of cheap beer. The secret is in the water we use over here to brew our delicious lagers.

Truthfully, I started out on the rope, switched to the boulder, then came crawling back to the rope. I think my weak point is roped climbing. Bouldering has always come naturally to me, but lately I’ve been sucking at both. Bouldering is over so quickly that if you can just bone down for a few hard moves you will eventually find yourself standing on top. Roped climbing is all about consistency, breathing, resting, and knowing when to really pull hard and when to relax. Oh yeah, beta is always nice too…

4. How do your motivations fluctuate through the year? Do you think you have defined 'seasons' within your climbing?
Well, the biggest season in this part of the country is basically March-October. A nice window but definitely not a year round spot. Of course there are the occasional trips to Bishop and other sunnier, drier destinations but there is so much of a fucking trek involved that the motivation (and bank account) has to be high.

My motivations rely heavily on two things:
Trying new things (i.e. getting to new destinations and trying what those destinations have to offer), and trying old things (i.e. projecting the hell out of some route or boulder problem until it yields to my demands).

I stay pretty motivated throughout the whole year though. I always have something to look forward to, whether it’s the start of a new climbing season or the end of one. When Spring roles around I’m psyched to get back outside and re-train my brain on how to move up and over real rock. When winter roles around I’m psyched to get back in the gym and work hard to prepare myself for the next season - of course injury is a total buzz-kill, I’ve had many injuries in the last three years but they always seem to come and go during the winter season.

5. Who/what inspires you most in climbing?
What: Effort! I love to see people trying HARD! Doesn’t matter about the grade.

Who: Chris Fucking Sharma! This dude tries hard ALL THE TIME! Sure, I enjoy watching other people climb but I have a certain affinity for Chris (and Jonny G of course?!? - George). Maybe it’s the way his hair falls perfectly back into place after a breath taking dyno. Or maybe the way his chest hair is perfectly sculpted to his…uh…oh…never mind.
In all honesty I draw my inspiration from the people around me who put all they have into climbing and who want to see their friend’s progress with them.

6. Tell me about the guys and girls that you climb with; how much is your personal style dictated by those around you?
Well, unfortunately I don’t climb with many girls. Not sure why? I’m consistently climbing with the same group of people though. Dom and Laura are my go to guys. They pretty much are the reason why I get out so much and expose myself to new places in Washington. Without them I’d probably end up at Little Si every weekend. I met Dom through Laura, I actually hired Laura to work at the rock gym at the college we both attended. She later introduced me to Dom, and at that point I had probably been climbing for about a year and only 4-5 times outside. After meeting Dom and Laura however everything changed and I got hooked on climbing outside (oh yeah and filling out my 8a.nu scorecard) I’ve pretty much been climbing with them for the last 4 years (?) or so, and have moulded my outdoor approach to climbing around their ethics and insights. They are both incredibly straight forward, funny, friendly, and down to earth people. Not sure where I would be or who I would be without them.

Another huge player in my climbing development has been a cool cat named Nicholas Isaac Mathis (A.K.A THE man - George). Nick is responsible for a lot of the success I’ve had in the bouldering world. He is sooooo psyched ALL the time, and his positive attitude and high energy personality is contagious. He’s out on the East Coast right now pursuing his BSN, so big props to Nick for following his dreams and foregoing a lot of climbing time to become an even more well rounded individual. Nick is definitely one of the people that inspire me to do better in climbing and in life as well, just an all around good guy.

Last but definitely not least is Jimmy Chulich and his sister Lisa. Jimmy is the ‘young gun’ in our crew and has been absolutely CRUSHING lately. Jimmy has been a good example to me of what HARD WORK is all about. He walks a pretty straight path as far as his view on life and climbing is concerned and he rarely deviates from that path. It shows in his ability to focus when its time to send something hard (most of the time he flashes it though, which is just a testament to how hard this guy can focus and commit to something). His sister Lisa is also a good example of how training pays off and they both make up an element of my life that is hard to adhere to, which is regimented, strict, and good old fashioned hard work and consistency. I’m making them sound like gym rat robots or something but they are also just teenagers and have impacted this small climbing community greatly with their efforts to support people in the progression and enthusiasm of climbing.

7. Where would you like to see your personal progression in the next few years?
Hmmm, in the next few years I’ll be 30!! Shit, that hasn’t really sunk in yet. I’ll be old and irrelevant but still trying hard.

My goals are to stay injury free so I can climb all the time. I’d love to start consistently onsighting 12’s and redpointing in the 5.13 range. As for bouldering, well, I’m not quite sure. If I could maintain the level of bouldering that I was achieving in the Summer of ’08 that would make me happy. But I just don’t think there are that many soft V8’s and 9’s left in the world. The ultimate goal is to send .14a, I think it’s possible.

8. How much do you see climbing in the gym as just a way to kill time between road trips? Is being out in nature as important to you as pulling down hard and giving it 'claw'?
Climbing in the gym is like lifting weights. It just gets you in shape for what you really want to be doing. I’m rarely psyched to climb in the gym but I know it’s just something I have to do to keep from getting complacent, lazy, and fat. Plus, if you train right, you will avoid more injuries. I’ve been more psyched on gym climbing lately since I’ve started setting at the Warehouse.

They balance each other. Being out in nature is probably one of the major elements to why I gravitate to climbing so much. When you visit a new destination or environment it’s awesome to take in the sights and enjoy the wildlife and such, but climbing adds a new element to that experience. You feel as if you have actually become a part of your surroundings through connecting with the rock and in some ways mastering it, but ultimately respecting it. If a crag is located in a beautiful environment, then that beauty can almost balance out the fact that the routes might climb like shit, or the rock is bad, or something like that. The converse is true as well. If your surroundings are shit and the climbs are brilliant it can almost detract from the climbs themselves. But, in the end, we’re not artists, we’re climbers.

9. I remember hearing about the Access Fund through you, how important is this to you still?
Access what now? I’m confused…(errr whoops maybe it wasn't you then...... - George)

10. Do you have a message for the kids out there?
1. Stop being so humble, you’re not that great.
2. Don’t do sleep and get 8 hours of drugs.
3. Stop acting like little bitches all the time.
4. Have as much sex as you possibly can now, because when you get older shit stops working.
5. Noone loves you as much as you love yourself.
I think that’s about it. Thanks for all the great questions George. Have fun climbing those mountains and herding those sheep, or whatever it is you do over there.

The living legend that is Micah Humphrey there folks. Poetically insightful answers belying his crazed madman exterior. I'd like to wish you a good old British 'cheers mate' (American: Why thank you kindly good sir)!

Dark Horses No. 2

2010-05-22T15:15:00.006+01:00

As if on cue, and to what roughly may look like some kind of planned schedule, i have received the answers to the questions of both my second and third installments of the 'Dark Horse' articles.

By way of the 'close-my-eyes-and-see-where-my-finger-lands' method i have chosen this weeks mare, someone a little closer to home........Callum Coldwell-Storry (yes, him from The Great Coldwell-Storry [wish i'd thought of that!!]), one of the darkest of dark horses quietly crushing his way through some pretty impressive numbers both in the Lakes (how does a super quick E8 headpoint and a few E7 flashes sound hmmm playa?!?), the UKs crucible of climbing (cough), and further afield as far as Yosemite (hammerless on The Shield bitches) and El Chorro. What's his secret? Bourbon and a brew lad!? We'll find out shall we.......

1. What style are you most psyched on at the minute?
Mostly bouldering, sport and trad, however i'm always psyched for trad.

2. What kind of routes do you prefer?
I hate routes that involve jamming your hand into a crack. I love the movement on slate, and I love routes with crimps.

3. Biggest strengths/weaknesses?
Core strengh I would say is my biggest weakness, and technique. Also I could do with crushing V15, that would help.

4. How do you see yourself progressing in the future?
Get stronger. Climb cooler, harder routes.

5. What are you goals for the next few years?

More El Cap action (love that piece of rock) More bouldering, climb on the grit more. Would love to get to Baffin and Africa as well. Dammm it I need money!!

6. These past few months you've been crushing the trad - how much has the bouldering strength that you've picked up on recent overseas trips helped with this?
Over the last year I started to read about climbing and began to recognise my weaknesses, and came to the conclusion that to improve my performance on trad I needed to get stronger fingers and become more powerful.

After Yosemite (moving up the Shield headwall above) I decided to just boulder for a few months and this has without a doubt improved my climbing. Endurance comes quickly, but it takes years to get really strong tendons.

7. What do you think of the UK attitude that trad is the 'be all and end all' discipline?
I don't think that at all. Trad is great, it's what I love, but there is so much more out there and I really enjoy different styles of climbing. I also think it a bit to ‘over hyped’ if you can climb 8b then there really isnt that much you cant climb trad wise in the UK. If you can crush 8c then an 8a E9 really isnt going to feel that hard, so its all relative.

That’s why trad climbing is so great because everyone can have that wild experience no matter what the grade.

8. How much/at all do you train and how?
I wouldn’t call it training, not structured anyway. I just climb around 5 days a week ranging from steep bouldering to evening trad (George - like a quick nab of 'Dawes Rides A Shovelhead' for example....).

9. How do you manage to keep motivated and how do you deal with periods of low motivation?
I never really have problems with low motivation, sometimes I might just not be arsed to go bouldering so i'll climb some trad or vice versa. Climbing is what keeps me motivated.

10. Best and worst things about being based in the Lakes/UK?
Worst: weather.

Best: the trad is pretty cool here, like N.Wales. It's really involved climbing and onsighting is a real art on long mountain crag routes.

Thanks again Cal. Standard. Typically no-nonsense. To the point. Simple as that folks!

Darks Horses No.1

2010-05-16T23:35:00.005+01:00

Feeling a little 'low' and uninspired? Want to live vicariously through other, more talented people? Not as strong/bold/French as you'd like? Unable to pass urine without wincing? Brother's. Sister's. I feel your pain!

If, like me, you want all of the above but just don't know how to get it may i suggest reading on? For the next few weeks i shall run a series of mini-articles, odes if you will, comparable to the great Viking and Saxon Sagas of Erik the Red and Beowulf. Great heroes and warriors will be spoken of, their stories enriched within such hallowed tomes and blah blah blah..........in other words i'm gonna embarrass a few mates of mine who have been kind of enough to answer some questions that i sent out to them one cold night in May.

First up..........Dom Kehoe a self-confessed 'hidden donkey', my best climbing partner from uni (gaaaaaaaaayyyy), author of an ace blog detailing his goal to climb the magic 8a grade.....and a jolly good chap, what!?

1. Hows the 8a coming along? Found one to project yet?
I'm still hoping to climb 8a, hopefully sooner rather than later as I feel I might just plateau below the magic grade. A route that I've had my eye on for a while is an 8a at Little Si called Chronic (see pic below - courtesy of Mr M Humphreys), its pure endurance, it starts out about V3-V4 and doesn't let up for 12 bolts or so. I got on it a couple of weeks ago to feel it out and it feels hard. To be honest I'm not that psyched on it right now but I maybe I just need to get a bit fitter and make some links on it. I'm always on the look out for other contenders though, but I want my first one to be proud, not some holiday tick so to speak.

2. You've improved massively since moving to the US, why do you think this is?
Yea I went from my hardest redpoint going up from 7a+ to 7c in about a year when I moved out here 4 years ago, I think its down to 2 main things: 1) having a crew to climb with that were at a similar level to me to help with psyche and 2) having a lot more choice for hard sport climbing, there is a lot of rock around here, and most of it is bolted so there is always plenty of stuff to hop on. It seemed to me that back home in Scotland there wasn't a ton of hard stuff or even moderate stuff that was bolted to train on, so more often than not if I wanted to get on harder routes I'd find myself on some pretty sketchy stuff cause of the bolting ethic.

3. Anything you miss about the UK? Ethics? Style? Diversity?
There's tons I miss about the UK, the fact that you can climb on a nice day in the winter, here it buckets down Nov-Feb, so there's no chance of dry rock unless your willing to drive for days. And although I complain about the lack of good sport crags there, there is some great trad. Here it seems that unless its a splitter crack the whole way there will be bolts. I'm not a big fan of mixed trad/bolt routes which there's a lot of here, it just doesn't feel right.

4. How do you feel the US scene/approach differs/compares to the UK?
I feel there are a lot more climbers over here, but the scene seems a bit fake. There's a lot of poser climbers that turn up to the crag with their Arcteryx and Patagonia gear and $100 sunnies, and dont really climb. I'm not saying there aren't those types back home, but I think they're a lot more common here. Also because there's more climbers the crags are a lot more 'developed'. The first place I climbed here was on private property and I had to sign a waiver to climb there. The second place I went there was a huge parking lot and porta-potties everywhere, I ended up climbing a route that right next the foundation of a bridge so the route was half rock half concrete, it was bizzare, you'd never find something like that back home. Some places you have to pay to park, but it doesn't deter the crowds - just turn up to Smith on any weekend and you'll be queuing more than climbing.

5. You seem to be getting back into trad after a while out of it, why now?
I go back and forth between trad, sport and bouldering, it keeps it interesting. I'm hoping to do more trad routes over the summer in Leavenworth and Squamish, but I scared myself on some really easy stuff a couple of weeks ago so it'll take me a while to build up my confidence, but that's what bolt-clipping will do to you. I'm definitely not nearly as bold as I used to be. I've got to be careful not to hurt myself climbing cause i don't have health insurance so one emergency room trip could bankrupt me. But I'm hoping by the end of the summer I might be onsighting 5.11 trad (E4ish) and maybe 5.12 redpoint (E5 or 6 perhaps), thats the goal anyway.

6. Any plans to use your bouldering/sport strength to come back over here and tear it up?
I'll definitely be back in the UK to visit, and want to check out more crags there, but I don't think I'll be tearing it up. We'll see though, maybe you can point me in the direction of some soft touch E5's and 6's, you seem to know all about them. (George - I have no idea what he's talking about..........)

7. What style of climbing are you most into now/what do you want to pursue long term?
Right now I'm enjoying sport and getting a lot of quantity in, already in 2010 I've done over 100 routes, but like I say I like to mix it up, I'll probably get more into redpointing and trad in the summer, then maybe back to bouldering in the fall. I see that becoming a trend. I really just like getting a lot of climbing in, long term I'd be happy if I can get a couple of hundred routes in each year, but I guess I might run out eventually.

8. What are you goals for the next few years? Any more big trips planned?
My main goal for the next few years is to finish up my masters degree, get a good teaching job somewhere near some climbing, then taking the summers off every year to climb. I'm always thinking about climbing trips, I'd like to explore more of the US, places like Utah, Colorado, maybe the south. But I'm also keen to get back on some Euro limestone, swiss bouldering perhaps, rocklands?

9. How much do you train (if at all) and how?
I've never really been much into training. Seems like whenever I try I end up injured. My philosophy is the best way to train to climb is just to climb. I think getting in quantity outdoors not only keeps your fitness up, but it helps with your familiarity on rock.

10. Favourite US and overseas destinations and why?
Ooh thats a tough one, it seems like every place I visit I fall in love with. Over here I love Bishop for bouldering and for its beauty. Squamish is great cause its got something for everyone, from bouldering to bolt-clipping to awesome multi-pitch trad. Overseas, Font has got to be the most chill place I've ever climbed, I'd love to get back there. Kalymnos is a sport-climbers paradise, the perfect holiday destination. And Ceuse is great for an intense full-on sport climbing experience, going there is definitely not a holiday. Its hard to narrow it down more than that.

So there you have it, more next time.........Thanks very much Dom!

Motivation and Diversification

2010-05-10T17:27:00.000+01:00

I've just got back from a short session at the wall. The reason it was short was because it was shit, a theme that has unfortunately become very frequent in the past few weeks.

Driving back i realised it was because i'm bored and unmotivated by climbing and probably have been for some time. Now this is due to a lot of small things and one or two rather big things.

1. I've definitely reached a plateau in my climbing that is either totally stopping me from getting better without some form of training or my progress has slowed to such and extent that it can only be measured using highly advanced scientific equipment - either way they both have the same effect on my mind set of being stuck in a rut.

2. 9 times out of 10 i climb by myself. For a while this was a novelty but now i hate it. It's a shame then that whilst the wall's bouldering room is usually pretty busy, the users of it are, with few exceptions, dicks.

3. 10 times out of 10 i climb with people who aren't at my level or better than me. That sounds arrogant but if taken in the context of where i live (i.e. a social backwater [think worzel gummidge], let alone a climbing backwater). In other words the amount of climbers round here that are motivated to climb more than once or twice a week and/or want to push themselves to get as good as they can, can be counted on one hand. In short i have no one to push me, which links in very nicely with point 2 in that i end up climbing by myself and get bored and frustrated.

4. I'm extremely motivated by climbing outdoors but the nearest climbing to me that isn't gritstone (which is still about 2 hours white-knuckle screeching away) is North Wales or Pembroke - admittedly Avon is closer than South Wales but it's shit.

5. Training - this links well again with points 1 and 2. It's all well and good getting psyched to do it but i'd find it much easier if i wasn't on my tod the whole time. Likewise the gains i've seen from the training i have done so far is marginal - maybe i need to just stick with it and stop being a ponce?!?

6. Climbing is pretty much my only hobby/sport/social outlet and it's probably this lack of diversification that's causing me grief at the minute. The good news is i've started to get back into my running, which i'm really enjoying again, and so with a few races coming up i should be able to focus away from the mediocrities of plastic pulling for a bit - or at least put them into perspective.

Anyway i've got a trip to Pabbay coming up in just under a month that should be awesome, then a couple of months bimbling around the Indian Himalayas a few days later. If i just set my sights on staying keen till we head to the islands i should have that 2 months of shitting my guts out to reflect on just how much i want to be at home pulling up on small bits of wood!

Bowderstone, St. Bees and a 'Quince'

2010-04-25T21:56:00.002+01:00

In the week that saw petrol prices hit a staggering 130.9p a litre (that's SHIT by the way if you're reading this from America) i was trundling my way North to the Lakes. 50mph MAX to save as much fuel as i could until i reached home and the more reasonable prices. Motorway driving at that speed is pretty much a piss take, you might as well be travelling in reverse BUT as my driver instructor loved to point out....."you save 20% more fuel going at 50 than you do going at 70". What's this got to do with climbing? That bit? Not much, save for the fact that i was heading into the district of Lake (singular).

When the sun shines as much as it has done the past couple of weeks this early on in the year it usually pays to sit up and take notice of it. My bikini doesn't fit and isn't this seasons colour anymore so the only other thing left to me was to head for a climb. Now i'd best keep it brief cos to be honest if something hasn't got photos i soon switch off and sure everyone else is pretty much the same! No surprise that the reason i point this out now is cos i don't have any photos myself so to hold your attention i'll keep it nice and short.

Had a little look into St. Bees for it's bouldering potential. I went there before some years ago on a brief weekend trip down from uni with Dom, Davey Sander and the international man of mystery - Paddy. It's ace.......really beautiful setting right down on a wave cut platform mere centimetres above the sea - in fact given it's tidal a lot of it is also mere centimetres below the sea, which can be rather frustrating! This is how we found it the day we turned up last week........warm but wet as the tide was still on it's way out and had left a lot of the fragile sandstone in almost unclimbable condition. Now me and Dave aren't the most prolific of climbers and it's fair to say that psyche was low so we ended up just pottered around for a large part of the day. The pottering around did however yield some success as we both got some action in on the 'classic' Headbanger, though the effort of topping out on this, the Lakes' (and therefore the WORLDS) softest V8, proved the shit that tipped the toilet over and we left pretty soon after!

Look at that, i've already waffled on for too long as it is and only got half way through the details. Quickly then........had another look at De Quincy up on Bowderstone crag. I'd first had a look on another brief sojourn from uni with the international man of mystery and found it quite steady. This time then, with a few more years hanging off thin strips of wood behind me, it was a much easier proposition and a cheeky little E7 was in the bag. Biggest news of the day though goes to the man of the moment Callum who showed it his winky before wiping his arse with the holds.........in short he flashed it. Rectec-p! If you don't know the gear placements, as apart from the wobbly pegs and slings-on-hollow-flakes, they're all pretty inobvious then you'd fully deserve your E7 tick and you could maybe have a claim for the techy 6b it gets given.....however, if like me you gave it the cowardly headpoint treatment then you'd struggle to find a 6b move on the thing, even 6a (if you're going well) feels generous.

Alas, V8 in two or three goes (soft as Mr.Whippy's shite notwithstanding) and E7 aren't bad for a few days work.

Above the sea.........

2010-04-14T11:37:00.000+01:00

I've been pretty poor with the old blog as of late, but then nothing much of note has happened so you can forgive me i'm sure.

Life till now has mainly been work and lots of indoor climbing. It's fun for a while (indoor climbing i mean) but after nearly 4 months where none of the routes have been changed it gets a bit dull. I feel like i'm climbing pretty well though, i've been doing some actual proper training on the campus board set-up in the boulder room and starting to feel quite good. Most importantly i'm currently in a sustained period without major finger tweaks since i started climbing! ZOLTAN!

I was given the chance last week to head down to Pembroke to meet up with my friend Tom (have a look at his Don't Work, Climb blog over there on the right) for a quick snatch of the awesome weather we've been having of late (in fact i'm off up to the Lakes this afternoon to make the most of it!) Pembroke is AMAZING. We were a bit restricted due to the bird bans (fair enough of course) and the Special Army Soldiers firing rockets at the sea so had the option of Carreg-y-Barcud (been there, done that - still awesome though) or Mother Carey's Kitchen. Mother Carey's has quite a reputation for being scary and committing but then so is everywhere when you have to ab in the and the only way out is to climb. As it turned out i feel this reputation to be a tad unfounded - you can always swim after all!?

It was baking hot and due to the restrictions further along the coast the place soon drew a crowd.....and with good reason. The other side of Mother Carey's reputation leans towards super-classic routes and clean lines. It has these in abundance and although our climbing wan't exactly prolific we still managed 3 or 4 excellent routes.

It's been a while since i've climbed trad, bar a couple of trips up to Yorkshire grit, which didn't really constitute trad, i've not placed gear since long before Xmas! It felt good then to be able to figh my way up the direct E3 finish to the classic Brazen Buttress. Brazen was my original target but having been confused by the chalk i followed the wrong line and soon found myself pumped and running it out on positive holds miles above the sea. AWESOME. The indoor training certainly helped my recovery on some of the slightly marginal holds and i was soon dodging sea-gulls at the top. Lovely.

I'm off to India in 6 weeks for a 2 month jolly up in the Himalaya's doing some 'mountaineering' (in the sense that we're going up mountains.....though apparently they're about as technical as my nan's stair lift). Proper psyched for it! Never been to India and certainly never been up as high at 6-7000m! Boom!

Lame post. Sorry. I'll try and do something a bit more interesting but it may be some time.

Almost Famous

2010-03-03T23:30:00.000Z

Big Bad Dave has made this little cheesy-pop of the Bishop days for your eyes only....have a squirt.....here....no here....here? Here.

Lest we forget.........

2010-01-18T11:14:00.001Z

......what he looks like. Lady. Gentleman. Jonny G..............

Snow

2010-01-07T10:01:00.000Z

Snow: a wake up call to climate change and the perils of global warming or just a by-product of winter??

A by-product of winter.

Those were the weeks that were: Bishop and Duchess' Demise

2009-12-23T21:09:00.003Z

Fast forward the first month in Bishop and you'll probably find yourself sat in the Looney Bean, again, teasing out another of those precious rest days, hiding away in your usual corner, hoping against hope that you won't get the Redneck Inquisition after you for not buying anything more than a small tea since you first arrived half an hour before opening time. As i've said before, and will keep saying till the day i die, there is NOTHING to do in Bishop when not climbing other than sit in a coffee shop (of which there are roughly 2 that could be classified as such), cluelessly spectate at a high school football match (see below - we stank to high heaven by the way) or simply stagnate.

So it comes as a welcome surprise to be dragged from such stagnation with the knowledge that the friends you expected tomorrow have actually driven through the night and are due to arrive...well.....now! OMG ('Oh My God' - ? - buy a phone) they can't see me like this, i smell like plug hair and have a beard the size of Oprah's ass. But wait......it's Dom and Micah (a.k.a. Tha Crusha from Russia and The Claw), THEY smell of plug hair and have beards the size of Oprah's ass too - except Micah, he has no hair, but whatever! Anyway, they arrived, we hugged in that awkward 'beer, women, football' kind of way that guys that have known eachother for a long time but who do men things like play rugby, climb mountains and bull-fight do, and went a-boulder huntin'.

So now i'd been there for around a month by that time and often found myself drenched in 'beta-spray', unable to stem the tide, awash with the tirade that spewed from the cavernous rooms that the majority of male, American climbers call their mouths. Also, i'm not one to pass-up on knowledge, no matter how mediocre, in spite of the maxim i lived by at university - 'the more we know, the more we know we don't know' - and so to this end, coupled with the excitement of seeing friends again, i was unashamedly forthcoming in my regurgatation of accumulated beta as and when the situation demanded. All that is a long-winded way of saying that i quickly learnt that i was able to spray with the best of them.

First to get hosed was the gem of the trip, Seven Spanish Angels (taking this sentence out of context could be the making of a very good porn film - shotgun) a classic that somehow sneaks under the radar judging by it's apparent lack of popularity. The Claw gave it growl and coolly dispatched on his second go and Dom flashed it - actually wait, that's wrong, no he didn't flash it but got it 4th or 5th go, yes that's right. Hang on a sec, where were Dave and Ben during all this?? Oh they were about alright.........aiding (G forgive them) on some chossy piece of shit across the 'road'........one of the Yosemite Valley missionary's must have poisoned them, the swine! We were no longer concerned with this as other testpieces beckoned, namely Cave Route, a short, punchy V6 in the main area that somehow always draws a crowd even though it's actually not all that good. Go figure. I'd told Dom that it was piss easy and he'd flash it no bother.....turns out it only feels piss easy if you're more on my side of tall rather than his and it ended up being rather more protracted a battle than either of us first thought. It was then that something magical happened...

We had first met the Messiah in Tuolomne Meadows. I was perched, gargoyle in body, blubbering infant in mind, within a shallow scoop wide enough for just a single ass-cheek somehow remaining solid, as only granite seems to allow. Scampering up, to share my small island amongst the near frictionless swathes of granite, came the Messiah. Comically feline in both movement and appearance i was perhaps forgiven, though definitely foolish, to think 'Oh here we go....why me?'. After a brief explosion of energy that would power a small city, what you may also call a conversation, in which my tiny stance became chokingly claustrophobic he left, near sprinting up the remainder of the slab, seemingly out of my life forever. It was with joy untethered that i saw him approaching our small band at the Cave boulder all those weeks later, we got to talking, as is the Western style, and i asked him how he'd got on in Yosemite and Tuolomne after we'd left. Turns out he's a fuckin beast! Look away now if you don't like reading random lists of names and numbers: Cosmic Debris 5.13b onsight, Phoenix 5.13a 2nd go, Tales of Power 5.12b onsight, Bachar-Yerian 5.11c X took a 20ft lob breaking two knobs and dislodging two ribs landing below the seconf belay! HARDCORE! The numbers aren't cutting edge necessarily but he's knocking on the door of 50 and onsighting YOSEMITE 8a/+ cracks. RESTEC-P!!

Of course i was now left in the enviable position of being able to watch as Dom and Micah tried to process the excitement bomb that was exploding before their eyes. They seemed to take it pretty well when i invited him to climb with us the next day at least. Ah who are we kidding.....they loved him!! The Messiah (in action above) soon became a mascot, or reincarnation of G(askins) if you will, and as such we protected him like one, always spotting, always having a mat down and, only ever referring to him by his 'Earth name'.....Alan.

That evening, sat around a campfire after our daily jaunt to the Looney Bean and a delicious Thanksgiving dinner at a local church where we were the guest's of honour (i wish i was joking), we introduced Micah to some good, old fashioned British piss-taking, a trend that would feature for the remainder of his visit. In short, we bullied him. He took it well enough, like a Brit in fact, not the turncoat Yank revolutionary who should have been content with his lot and stayed a part of the British Empire (Goooorrd bless it), like you would perhaps have imagined him to be. It was really good fun chatting shit with those guys again, if only to have some new people to talk to for a prolonged period of time, as i'm sure Dave and Ben would agree!

The next day we decided to have a look at the slightly more skin friendly bouldering over onthe volcanic tablelands a.k.a the Happy's and the not so happy Sad's. Climbing here is very different from that at the Buttermilks, the holds are generally a lot more on the skin friendly side of things, although you'd be wise to watch out for those sharp pockets! Yowza's! It's not quite as aesthetically pleasing as those pretty little things on the hillside a few miles away.....to put it another way the Happy's are no prize pig and the Sad's are like that ugly girl you'd take the piss out of your mates for shagging......but then if you got hammered and she was there, well, you would, wouldn't you? And so it is with the volcanics. You mock your mates for suggesting it as a venue but you'll always lower your standards to have a cheeky flirt with it. Digression aside we made it there and took advantage of its relative lack of popularity to cherry pick all the plum (talking of fruits....look at the peach we found below) lines that would usually be busier than the dole office (topical).

After the alpine starts of the previous couple of days, more to do with the drop in temperature than any sense of psyche, team UK decided to revert to type and met up with Dom and Micah at the more leisurely time of midday-ish. We had recommended a quality V6 to start the day on called The Clapper, tucked away on the hillside as soon as you enter the canyon. This may have been another slight sandbag from yours truly (it's good for you Dom) as the 'light work' i had anticipated for the boys from Washington had turned into a siege. After a quick warm-up retro-flash of the problem (ahhhhhhh excuse me a moment while i have a quick chest rub and get these fingernails polished) in order to show (off) them the beta, normal service was resumed with an all-abroad sending train ploughing through....hell even Dave put his camera down and gave it the most casual of boar.

Did i mention sharp pockets?? Maybe it's about time to. The Happy's and Sad's are actually the same place you see, what distinguishes them in the eyes of climbers are whether or not you like sharp pockets.....if you do it's Happy, if you don't it's Sad. Simple? See you're not as thick as they said after all. Alas a good pocket problem to try (in spite of it only really having the one pocket) is Rene, it's ever so slightly highball, needs good footwork and some beastin' fingers/a high pain threshold. We had got on it before, i think in our first week in Bishop, and it had felt Hard - deserving of that capital 'H' at least - but like i may have said (or did i just think it?) you can't come to Bishop and NOT get strong. Second time round and it felt easy, i managed it first go of the day and The Crusha From Russia (TCFR) flashed it!!! Holy shit fuck Batman! Impressive, well we thought so but then we hadn't counted on the crrrrrazzy beta that our mate the Messiah would conjure up. I should perhaps explain that not only is a The Messiah a total beast, it's not just that he's knocking on the door of 50, nor is it that he's just an allround nice guy......the REAL reason that we would all, without hesitation, have married that man, was his impeccable technique. It's like nothing i've ever seen before, perfect in every sense of the word. It was Rene that opened our eyes to the miracles that 'Alan' is capable of and it was then that we became his disciples. Awestruck, and with wee now flowing untempered from our eyes, we marvelled at how 'Alan' contorted this way and that to dispatch the problem with consumate ease in a way that would make any proud Frenchman utter a defeated 'Merde' and hang up his onions.

My sport climbing ability is embarrassing and a source of great frustration so the next day is a bit of a blur of anguished tears and fussing over the ladder i'd managed to get in my tights by being such a poncey little girl. I'm gonna try and sum up the day (down at Owens River Gorge in case you hadn't guessed....and why would you have i suppose) in a single breath so if i start to tail off or it's incomplete i've either lost consciousness or had to take a breath in which case if i haven't got to the end of the description.....tough titties. 'Alan' climbed a 5.12b through a roof second or third go, TCFR nearly flashed it but got it second go, i failed on it, so did Ben, however he did manage a 5.11d second go, i failed on that too, Dave didn't climb, Micah did, we ended the day with......Phew!! Haha it's actually probably best i did end it there as the end of the day is one of those 'best forgotten' moments, kind of like being caught with a blow up sex doll on your birthday....i'd imagine. Oh go on then i'll tell you, not because you really want to know, but because you really NEED to know. Myself, Dom and Micah went to go and watch a film in Bishop's quaint little cinema. That film was 'The Men Who Stare At Goats' and it is the worst film i have ever seen. Yes worse than that 'Specimen' SHITE you made Chuck Fryberger - i know Chuck, you're as bewildered as me that anything could get worse but trust me it has. HOW did that film ever get the money to be made?? Bishop cineplex, or whatever you're called, i still have my ticket stub, is it too late for a refund???

It took a little longer than you might think to get over the shell shock of getting visually raped by previously well respected actors.....Clooney, MacGregor how dare you? Spacey....well we kind of knew this kind of thing would happen with you eventually. A trip to a new area was on hand to help us with the healing process. The Druid Stone's (easily my favourite area in Bishop) unfairly get a measly little section at the back of the guidebook (maybe they took the piss out of Mick Ryans mum??), which is a shame as, ignoring the whore of a walk-in, they're amazing (come on Micky it was probably only a joke)! I realise that their very appeal comes from the fact that no one goes up there or that people are, until now, wholly ignorant of the potential to be found, so it is with a solemn promise from yourself that you won't tell anyone else and make sure you either burn your poo or carry it out with you that i'll tell you about them. Ready? There's boulders EVERYWHERE and the guide book covers about 10% of them (the ones in eyesight at least!!) and if you can be arsed there's a shit ton of developing to go on up there, as there is at most of the areas around the Buttermilks i suppose. The name Druid Stone's is very apt, blurring the boundaries of past and present with a real 'otherworldly' feel to it sitting as it does about 9 million feet up the side of Mount bastard Doom. If you can tear yourself away from the established bouldering there then, as i say, there's a LOT of new stuff to clean up and get done....if getting your name in a book is your thing of course.........YES PLEASE. The stuff that is there is excellent, at least the things we got on. There's an incredible little face evocatively titled the 'Thunder Wall' (duh duh duuuuuhhhhh) which has some brilliant crimpy testpeices going up, and it's obviously popular with someone given the amount of chalk on it, either that or Micky Ryan was homesick for Dover!? We got treated to a masterclass in technique from the Messiah on a powerful V6 called Skye Dance, on the appropriately named 'Skye Boulder', a mazy hueco linker that took the rest of us at least 4 moves less than Mr. Twist 2006.

Unfortunately the trauma experienced both in the cinema and death-marching halfway up Everest was so deep that no manner of pebble-wrestling could save us and we failed miserably on most things tried, but then Checkerboard (the best problem in Bishop hmm??) and Solitaire (the most one dimensional problem in Bishop??) aren't quite the easiest things to be getting on of a morning. We sacked it over to the Pollen Grains, a little further up the hill from the main area of the Milks, for a round on Jedi Mind Tricks (ultra-classic highball) complete with it's famous echoing flake and for a shot on the ultra-highball classic The Beekeeper, which Callum coolly destroyed, opting for the full experience, along with having to downclimb a neighbouring V4 (the only way down, short of the not-so-common Eddie the Eagle approach). Not much else really went on so it's best to stop it there. Oh no hold on............Micah - "The Claw" - fell off the LAST MOVE of High Plains Drifter. I have no qualms with highlighting this point as no doubt if Micah had been reading this he would have long ago stopped as he clearly lacks any form of commitment.......ZING!

Small consolation was the discovery of Bishops real 4-star problem fittingly called A Birthing Experience.....can you guess what you have to do? Probably not actually as it doesn't really involve crawling out through a granite womb, but close. Starting sat/perched/lying/fumbling in a belly-shaped recess you simply squeeze your way out through a contorted serious of shuffles until good jugs (hehe) arrive. Only gets V1 but don't let it's diminutive grade of stature throw you, it's both FUN and TRICKY.

With tails between our legs we retired for the day........to a motel for what was Dom and Micah's night. The cold temps (in spite of the freestyle dancing - below) when sleeping up at a whopping 6,500ft (WOW!) had taken their toll on the city slickers from Olympia and so a 'treat' was in store. Now, five guys in a motel room thousands of miles from home could be seen as a bit, well, strange. Alcohol comes into it's own in such a situation, bear with me, as by plying ourselves with as much alcohol as we could we were able to pass out in an inebriated state and conveniently ignore the potential awkwardness of the situation.

We woke hungover, tired, confused (cos we thought sleep was meant to rid you of the previous symptom) and hungover. After a quick breakfast at McShit for them not me....i'm an athlete....we headed up into the deep, dark hills to explore a place called Rock Creek. It's very similar to Yosemite granite, apparently, but we wouldn't know cos we could barely pull on anything and got ryally spanked. Still though it was in a beautiful setting high up in a rocky creek, which is where they got the name from i guess. Following a brief group van-tag session, which produced the largest comedy penis i've ever had the displeasure of seeing, it was time for some rather emotional goodbyes. Dom put his hand on my ass which took away some of the warmth in the handshake and produced a rather reluctant hug on my behalf.....we're still friends though.

For us, too, it was time to bid farewell to Bishop. It was rather less emotional than saying 'taraa' to old friends but i'm sure we'll all miss certain aspects of life there. We certainly met some strange and interesting people - artists (though if you'd seen his work you'd have thought his choice of profession rather questionable), volley ball captains, redneck cops and sexual predators. It was only right that we stopped off at the Looney Bean (i hope i'm getting commission for this by the way...) for one last white hot chocolate before hitting the road, bound for San Francisco, an airport and Ben's date with destiny, quite why he wanted to leave the US is beyond me.

That final week in Bishop was a perfect microcosm for my time spent in the good old US and A........minus the shit going wrong. It was possibly the funnest weeks' climbing i've EVER had (in Bishop at least....which says a lot cos Bishop is nothing if not fun!?), on a par with other such legendary exploits as that time i nearly froze to death at Burbage or when we spent half the summer in Squamish. Wow really?? Yup. Get yourself over there, be wary of ORG cos in the words of William James it's "the perfection of rottenness" worth a visit if you fancy a change from bouldering but to be fair nothing to go skipping down the lane about.

One passenger, $120 and still no fuel lighter we arrived down in Santa Barbara. We'd stopped off in Santa Cruz on the way down to pay a visit to Shannon and fix the flat tyre we'd picked up somewhere back in Bishop. The van was beasting it, running smooth as can be and it all looked good. A boozy night in I.V. and we were on our way to Indian Creek, Utah, via LA to pick up Dave's laptop.

The van died, the transmission having 'fell apart', and an epic ensued. If details are patchy it's because i've erased the events from my memory.

We got $75 for it and watched as it got towed away. The Duchess gone from our lives....forever. My tear stained screen not doing justice to the pain i'm still feeling. GOODBYEEEEEEEEEE DUCHESS!!!!!!!!!! There's only one thing you can do in such a situation and when we finally got back to our friends in I.V. we got royally hammered. I stacked it on a single speed cruiser and totally ate shit, in front of a house FULL of partying people, proving once and for all that half a dozen beers and 2 gallons of rum does not a Lance Armstrong make. Next day we were sat outside the Santa Barbara bus station, which had closed 4 hours previously, waiting for the ride that would dump us in the middle of San Francisco 9 hours later at 9am for our flight home. Quite a week.

So i've had time to reflect on what, at first seemed a massive, crushing disappointment. In retrospect we did get just over 2 months of travel in one of the most amazing places on Earth, met some mucho (that's for my hombres [and again] out there) cool-o people, nay acquaintances (i think they've earned that title!), did a touch of climbering and really i guess we have little to complain about. Except one thing..............i never did get to marry Katie Brown....Katie, can you wait another year? I'll be back my sweet - i promise.

Ah shoot i can't very well end this on a negative note so....umm.......Happy Christmas!

Creams of the Christmas Crop: DVD Reviews

2009-12-08T19:24:00.000Z

Grit Flick:

Got this sent all the way over the pond to me in the States the other week....that's a testament to the amount of hype that's starting to surround Al Lee's films at the minute - can the golden boy and darling of film festivals the country over do no wrong?

To my eyes he can. His latest DVD is just another piece of shit in a veritable diahorrea of offerings over the past few years. For me it's all gone downhill since the mighty 'Set in Stone'. 'Psyche' - apart from the McClure bit - was bollocks, 'Onsight' wasn't bad admittedly, by all accounts 'Asgard Project' is a joke and now there's 'Grit Flick'. The problem is that either no-one notices or they're just scared of him and his reputation to go about writing the truth about the piss-taking that is going on, with him as the ringleader. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that it's not because no-one notices, that would be to assume that we're all morons and my mum says i should never assume.

The joke has well and truly been on us, as the climbing-media consumer, in believing all these glowing reviews that follow him round like a bad smell, throwing our money at the self-confessed saviour of climbing movies, blindly following the words of Mick Ryan and Colin Wells - who have been duped as much as we have. Fuck this isn't in any way meant as a personal attack on Al at all so i'd better stop a bit as it's in danger of being so. I've met the guy a couple of times and he seems cool enough, but then with a company by the name of 'Posing Productions' is it any wonder that some of this 'fame' goes to his head??

To the film.........Al has a very recognisable style when behind the camera and he's shit hot at it. Ian Burton - the other dude - has a very distinctive style too and he's just shit at it. To borrow and paraphrase someone else's words his default position is to sit at the top and let the camera roll idly on his lap getting situations where you have no idea what part of the body you're meant to be looking at. For the most part the film, split into 'main events' (or something lame like that), is just a medley of shots sewn together by the hand of a spacker. It doesn't flow in the slightest and perhaps Al knew that, choosing to add some obscure moments of perceived comedy going for a cheap laugh, which are about as funny as wanking over your dad.

It's £12.99 more than you should ever have to pay for it and frankly, aside from a couple of points, i'd be embarrassed to put my name to it. Also does Al have tourette's or something? The reason i ask is that he feels inclined to spray the place down every chance he gets during his films. Shut the fuck up! Same goes for you Creamer, you're boring, or at least you appear boring, if you're not i apologise, but in any case i'm afraid i couldn't watch more than a minute or two of that particular 'main event' cos i kept nodding off. Where's the tension? It was obviously lacking in ALL segments, even the good ones, which is why the 3 'good' bits can only be described as 'okay' at best.

Ryan Pasquill's bit (spelt 'Pascal' in the film - that's just rude Al, and not the first time it's happened in his films) had the potential to be very good but was again spoilt by the lack of creativity in camera work (Buurtonnn.....was that you??) and shite comedy clapping. John Dunne's bit was funny....but only cos he's such a twat, go eat a pie. Widdop Wall with Jordan Buys was far and away the best bit and if it had all been like that this wouldn't be such a vile and vitriolic review. It was well shot and i went away liking both Jordan and his wife Naomi (only cos she's a hottie i'll admit) quite a lot as it was the only segment where any sort of character development happened - THIS IS IMPORTANT IN A CLIMBING FILM. Ben Bransby's highball at Rylstone was also pretty good - but then it was shot by Rich Heap so that'd explain why.

Rant over. I KNOW i can't do any better but it's pretty hard to do much worse. Al WTF???

Progression:

Why are you still reading this?? Piss off and either watch 'Progression', as you obviously already own it, or get down to Asda and camp out till the morning to get your hands on a copy - if they don't stock it they soon will.

Rest assured 'Hard Grit' it's not at your stratospheric level yet.....but it's well up there.

What a film. For me it's perhaps the best climbing film i've seen, if not then like i said it's up there with the best. Not much to say wrong about it, the music is excellent, cinematography is far and above anything we can get close to in the UK certainly, and probably better than anything anyone else is doing in the US - yes even you Peter Mortimer. To me it flows very well with a clear subject, the progression of climbing, and interesting characters. Wow it's everything 'Grit Flick' isn't (in case you hadn't noticed this is a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde post - i'm sorry).

I think it's also the first time that competition climbing has been covered extensively - let's just forget 'Hard Plastic' ever happened. Now i'm not one for competitions but it was one of the strongest sections on the DVD - an Ondra amongst a team of Sharma clones. There's only one Fatty Arbuckle moment and that's got to be the Rocklands bit, don't get me wrong it's awesome and does well to introduce Tommy Caldwell (Time Child) before his single feature on big walling, but watching guys crush and making V14 look utter piss is a bit on the boring side as you just can't comprehend any of it.

The highlight for me has to be Time Child high up in the heavens thumb-hooking his way up back-to-back 5.14s and V13 cruxes 1000m off the deck. It's WILD and easily the best footage - courtesy of Corey Rich - that i've yet seen anywhere, on a parallel with the North shore footage in 'Roam'. Time Child is a total beast and i'm glad it's as good as it is cos i was beginning to get into the mindset of 'not another TC Yosemite segment - yawn'.

Another gold bar amongst gold bars was the footage of Sharma working his 9b project in California. How fucking funny is it to watch him getting shut down like the rest of us and bitching and whining about it like the rest of us. What a hero.

KJ, A-Hol and Steven Segal in the UK whipping out their cocks and pissing over everything we have is brilliant, disspelling the myth and exposing the gritstone aura for what it is. Publicly mocking our E-grades is refreshing and schooling us in the art of unpretentiousness is just what the doctor ordered.

I could easily go on and on about this film but what's the point, all it'll be is just endless word-wanking waxing lyrical about the greatness that lies on a little shiny disc. The best is can do is refer you back to the top of the review......now piss off the lot of you, haven't you got homes with DVD players to go to??

'Bombing': The Flying Squirrel - A Question of Style?

2009-11-21T21:34:00.000Z

A friend of mine, Sam Hill, once introduced me to the lifestyle choice that is 'bombing' into water. The topic came up whilst sat atop Carreg-y-Barcud in Pembroke debating the chances that another friend George had at hitting the water stylishly should he peel off the E8 he was on and all his gear rip. Having gone through all the options for a successful 'bomb' in the event of an unsuccessful ascent Sam summised that the only way he could save face, should he come off said E8, was to execute a perfect 'Flying Squirrel' (think crane versus tiger in Kung Fu)....arguably the most dangerous of all 'bombing' techniques currently known to man.

The 'Flying Squirrel' has minor regional variations, however the principal and universally acknowledged method has the following basic structure in common........perform a cliff-top exit in the approved manner before drawing the legs back behind you, bent at the knees, grasping the ankles with your hands (like a limbless sky-diver), chin up, facing forward to effectively crater into the water at a seemingly death-defying rate of knots with the chest, abdomen and groin areas taking the full impact of splashdown (a la the squirrel shown below - seen here moving into the tuck position).

God loves Christians

2009-11-21T00:02:00.001Z

It's blowing a hooly in Bishop today so thought we'd sack off climbing and get out of there for a nice change of scenery. Morale has been pretty low of late......lots of high gravity days and split tips do not a psyched group make. Alas we were listening to the radio this morning up at the Owens River Gorge parking bit when the magic words "church food drive" rang through loud and undistorted. This provided the necessary impetus to load up The Duchess and do one.

Forty minutes later and we're being given some plastic bags in the basement of a nice Lutheran church by everyone's favourite granny look-a-like and told to "get as much as you want". Looking about the place like we're about to get a visit from Mr. Blobby with a snivelling little Noel in tow we obliged....wholeheartedly....to the point where they gave us extra bags. Free food. God bless the church! This thing happens EVERY week in churches across the States and ranks among the single most generous things that anyone could ever do. I know i'm not exactly religions' biggest fan, and it niggles that people only seem to do this generous act under the 'banner of heaven' so to speak, but if you ever find yourself near a church/charitable organistion and have a spare fiver in your pocket maybe slip it their way? What they do is INCREDIBLE and a real boost to people that are struggling in all manner of ways. I spent the entire time with a stupid-ass grin on my face not believing our luck. That's a pretty nice feeling.

End of sermon.

We're back to Bishop tonight or tomorrow to meet up with Dom and Micah for a week of crushing.......there's also a free Thanksgiving meal going on at a church down that way too......it's a slippery path to addiction!

Crag Politics: The British/American Divide

2009-11-17T03:14:00.001Z

Beta
American: Say 'Beta' too loud in this place that we're dwelling and you'll get pounced upon like a doughnut at weight-watchers. Four-letters is all it takes to turn you into the most important person in the world, a chest-rubbing feeling i can tell you, able to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with, if only for a moment, Obama, Osama and Burt (Bacharach)........debatable, but pillars in the communities they represent all the same. It's like crack to these people and turns them immediately into salivating mules hee-hawing and yee-harring about the place in deranged delirium. Beta doesn't just cover which hold to use, it goes right down to the precise intricacies of the left ring-finger's optimum surface coverage on the third crystal in from the right on the fifth bump up from that starting sloper that you're pulling on with the three fingers on your right hand, pinky sagging, thumb cradling that invisible catch 2cm out from where that freckle is on Sharma's index knuckle when i watched him do it on 'Rampage'. You get me?? THIS IS FUCKING SERIOUS SHIT MISTER!!!!!!
British: Beta? What the fuck is beta? You just pull on that one over there right? No? Oh yeah sorry that was 'A Eliminate' i was on.......'B Eliminate' starts like that. Yeah. Nice one mate. I think i got a drop knee in there somewhere too then matched that piece of shit crimp over there. Maybe not though it was a while ago and the conditions were shit. What's that?

Tick-marks
American: Compliments the beta quite well as tick-marks usually accompany the cryptic, hushed verses of jargon-influenced information. EVERY little bastard of a resemblance of a hold HAS to be ticked. We're not talking like in the little boxes that you get on a questionnaire here, it's full on lines indicating again the exact positioning of your hands to. the. bastard. millimetre. It becomes all encompassing towards the state of mind when climbing to the point where if the hold is hit anywhere shy of the line (up a bit, down a bit, left a bit, right a bit), even if they're still on (which it isn't impossible to be guys and gals!!), they jump off and moan about having to hit that hold. JUST. RIGHT. What follows, in a flurry of dabbing and storm of chalk, is a reapplication of the donkey line (which is usually in the exact same place as before) before Round 2 commences. I wish i had a photo of the Iron Man Traverse (see Lovely Lines.... for description, as if you need one people) to show the tick marks that almost constantly adorn this beautiful piece of rock......IT"S ONE BIG HOLD! You don't NEED tick marks.
British: Are just as bad. Check out the forum on UKBouldering (no other sites are available) showcasing some of Britains 'best' examples. It's a brush-hand-twitcher for sure.

Spraying
American: Sprayers coat the rock in their useless spittle, screaming a near constant tirade of generally worthless beta as much to 'help' you climb the problem as it is to tell the whole world that they have perhaps climbed it themselves. In reality these sprayers usually have no idea how to climb the route themselves and have either heard a fellow sprayer giving it spray or seen some wad running laps on it. It's confusing and dangerous - do you want to be responsible for fucking up my V1 flash dude!?! Didn't think so.
British: See 'Encouragement' below. We're so reserved it feels like a physical disability. Maybe it's because we have such short memories that we forget that we're stood on top of the problem we intend to spray on let alone know how we climbed the lump.

Encouragement
American: It's all about being LOUD and VOCAL. WE ARE WITH YOU. STRONG. PROUD. YOU GOT THIS. SICK DUDE. These are just some of the adjectives and terms in the vocabulary of the "All-American encourager". Does it annoy you reading it? It fuckin annoys me having it SHOUTED into my face from 2 yards away. Especially as i may only be able to do one of the 30+ moves, the baying crowd screaming "GOOD BURN MAN" before my sorry ass even hits the hands of the burly jock 'spotting' me. Sometimes it works, sometimes it is inspiring and sometimes i can feel Captain Crush inside me (NO Freud) fighting to get out. Maybe it comes from how they're brought up over here, the team-sports mentality of a new nation perhaps? Where else is it ok for groups of ape-like rock-jocks to stalk around shouting single words at total strangers??
British: We don't like loud noises. Talking in anything but a strangled whisper is just down-right rude old boy. We are the meek little kittens of the encouragement band-wagon hopping on to give our best little "Go on" or "Good effort" then hopping off when those bloody Yanks arrive. If you're on it then i guess you've got a good chance of doing it so our being there and shouting at you won't likely change that. The fact we're there is testament to the likelihood of your succeeding, else we wouldn't have wasted the time getting up in the morning to provide the pads that we're hoping you won't dirty.

Spotting
American: Similar in style to French/Continental spotting methods which came into prominence in the aftermath of the French Revolution when it was finally deemed acceptable to touch your fellow man. Over time it has evolved to take on a much more literal application of 'touching your fellow man' in the same way that programmes such as 'Queer as Folk' championed.....or at least that's how it looks to the layman. I read very recently in a well known US climbing (hint hint) publication that it was allowed to 'brush' someone when they're on a problem, not in the make sure they're chalk-free and super sticky way, but to a) let them know you're still there (as if breathing down their neck like a sex-starved teenager isn't enough??) and to b) give them a little bit of 'support'. Oh yeah we have a word for that too.....CHEATING.
British: No such thing. Once you're on the rock you're on your own. If another man touches you then it's goodbye friends and family and either hello witness protection schemes or welcome to fiddler's corner in prison. Arm's folded, fag in mouth (Freud would have a field day with this post), collar up. Assume the position. We might kick the pad in the general direction that we THINK you may fall but that's about it. Sorry. Oh you fell off and proper fucked yourself?? We're still cool right??

Hot Girls

2009-11-05T20:56:00.001Z

Why?? Why can't there just not be any then i'd have one less thing to think about and might actually be able to sleep at night.

They're like a spot, unflattering i know but stick with it, and just like a spot once you notice them you can't stop touching them, except in hot girl's case it'd be better that you didn't keep touching them. There's one coming into the coffeee shpoi[ now qwmds m,y wriitng jusyty disnintigrasstes reAl soobn beakuse rouch typuking is hardde when youure tryin to lokk at a girls assd. See what i mean?? GO AWAY!!

Looooooooovely Lines....mmmmmm lovely

2009-11-04T03:12:00.011Z

Lists are the order of the day for the forseeable future, they're easy, quick, take up a lot of room (so you can kid yourself at your own productivity) and i'm lazy. Here's a list, that again will be added to at my leisure, of some nice things that people have climbed up. Feel free to add some of your own suggestions:

Nowt Burra Fleein' Thing E8 6c, Wasdale
Some Birkett creation in the arse-end of nowhere, the sleepy backwater that some delusional people believe to be the birthplace of traditional rock climbing.....in the whole world.....the Lakes! A seriously stunning line up a severely overhanging prow involving all sorts of 3-D wizardry and more rusting pegs than you can waggle a branch at. Another crushathon courtesy of DB. How many is that now? I lose count.

Bachar-Yerian 5.11c X, Tuolumne
The single most inspiring line on the planet or is that just me? I hope people don't just remember JB for this line alone, though it is freakin' astounding! HAND-BOLTED ON LEAD!!! The man killed it! Hanging off tied-off snappy knobs or sitting back on sky-hooks balanced over said snappy knobs is MENTAL. Doing that while pioneering a new route, ground-up, on-sight is simply RAD. You can see the line from Half Dome (if you owned some bitchin' bino's) and standing underneath it, looking up at the black streak disappearing into the sky, is the single most awesome thing i have done......though i guess climbing it would be kinda cool. The 'X' rating is for the first half of the first pitch, the rest is 'only' R/X. What you waiting for?

Iron Man Traverse V4, Buttermilks
Zeus himself summoned the lightening bolt to split this boulder in half so that us mere mortals could sample the delights of traversing across the perfect shelf that runs across the alarmingly overhanging backside of the rock. Massive holds all the way, in fact it's just one big hold all the way to the end, yet surprisingly pumpy with a cheeky little dynamic slap so a sloper/jug....oh go on then just one more lap.

P.S. Doing the 'Iron Man' has no relation to that time i got very drunk with a stranger named Willhelm and ended up in an alley in Amsterdam at 3am...no sir, nothing at all, quite the opposite in fact cos it actually means girls will sleep with you if you do it.

Dalriada E6/7/8 6b/c, The Cobbler
The route i most want to do in Britain. Just gotta wait for that grade to settle down first i guess......make up your mind fellas. Came close to being onsighted but this is Scotland after all where every hold is wet. As a line is there any better?? Trumps DB's effort by being on top of a fairly gnarly lump of rock in the first place.....meaning alpiniste skills just to get to the base of it. Gary Latter had aesthetics on the mind when he plucked this feather. Another rotting peg-fest.....looooovely.

The Screaming Ab Dabs E6 6b, Lewis
Dodging the inbred islanders is the main battle finding this route....if you the miss the glaringly obvious Screaming Geo you're a twat and should go home! I have no authority on the matter however as i have never actually been there but come on it's gotta be big from what i've seen. Surely?? Alas you've found the route and doesn't it look a beauty. Trace your way up a GINORMOUS arch to arrive, via some roof thrutchyness, at the top of one of the most beautiful pieces of rock in the known universe. Incidently there's meant to be an awesome E4 called The Prozac Link if you can't be arsed with the mother-route.

Exasperator 5.10c, Squamish
It's a crack. On the Chief. About E2 in pounds sterling. Looks a bit wierd. Can be climbed a bit wierder. I spent 6 weeks there and never touched the thing.....IDIOT. It looks ACE!!! Heard some dodgy beta and thought better of it.......climb it like you're trying to open a garage door?? Piss off i wasn't born yesterday buddy. Met Tim Emmett on the plane home. Got talking. He'd just jumped off the Chief with a handkerchief on his back. Big deal. 'Did you guys do Exasperator?' says he. 'No....heard some shite beta for it and sacked it' says i. Explained it to him. 'Yeah that's how i did it' says he. 'Shit' says i.

Master's Edge E7 6c, Millstone
The Fawcett has landed. Jerry Moffatt?? Who's he? It's all about the old-school.....except that i guess Jerry is now the old-school?? Ah well, read somewhere that if Big Ron wasn't happy with how he'd climbed something then damn it if he didn't come back down and do it again until he was. LEGEND. Anyhow he nipped in on another one of 'Grit's Last Great Problems' yadda yadda and gave birth (LITERALLY) to the one we now know as Master's Edge. Square cut arete, clamp a bit, sketch a bit, put some gear in, don't fall off and break your back, sketch a bit, clamp a bit, jump a touch. Done. Blown your onsight haven't i? Sorry.

Comes the Dervish E3 5c, Vivian Quarry
Same as Exasperator except single pitch and on slate. Haston did it didn't he? Anyway it's not bad. If you lap it, and let's face it you'll want to, try leading it with the rope tied round your nuts. Interesting now eh?

Chain Reaction 5.12c, Smith Rock
It's like a massive fuckin' axe. Piece of piss up to the second clip, but then isn't everything...no. Gets steeper and progressively gnarlier as you snatch a way up the blade, giving up all thoughts of looking French and stylish. This climb is all about desperation. Eyeing up the final bucket just over the lip, your arms drowning in lactic acid (that's if they haven't fallen off already) it all comes down to tactics. Did you have to have that rancid bagel this morning? You know the one that's weighing you down and about to explode out your ass with the exertion? WTF? Dunno.

East Face of Monkey Face 5.13c/d, Smith Rock
No not the sport part of it.....BORING! This is all about those tiny wires and sketchy cams, except i guess not at the same time cos the gear sounds like it's pretty much the 'b' in 'bomber'. Sonnie T, a close personal friend of mine (why doesn't he return my calls??), showed us the way with a boltless bitch-slap of this rather sexy piece of rock. Piece of piss right. Fuck that it looks NAILS. It looks like you're gonna fall FOREVER. And it looks like a wild amount of FUN. Fires right up the ass-crack of the monkey with INSANE exposure. The words in this section are mostly BIG, like the MONKEY FACE, like AMERICA!! WOW it looks good......2nd on the 'most-wanted-to-do' list.....

Next..................

Some of the worst 'walls' i've had the displeasure of being amongst.....

2009-10-29T22:47:00.000Z

I was rummaging through my pockets (no not for a crafty wank) and found a tattered membership card for a soon to be mentioned climbing wall here in the US and thought "Ey up, might have found something interesting to write about for a change".

As the name suggests this is a roll-call of some of the worst climbing walls i've been to, for the simple reason that everyone is entitled to my opinion. This is an inexhaustible list that will be added to as and when i feel the need, so if you're establishment isn't on there........keep checking back cos it may well be soon.

Sydney Indoor Climbing Centre - WTF?? The biggest climbing wall in Australia?? Unlucky Australia is all i say. The bouldering there is okay i guess but what's with the grading system....it's not even loosely based on the Aussie grading way (which is the way grading should be done by the way)! The guy at the door was a nob too. Redeeming feature......hot chick teaching some kids to boulder, good luck with that.

Redpoint Climbing Centre, Birmingham - SHITE. The price of a car to get in, half the routes are slabby top-ropes and the bouldering is BOLLOCKS. Friendly staff mind, apart from the dude that tried to take the hoover to my chalkbag - wanker.

Pacific Edge, Santa Cruz - not even the gym that gave us the Sharmessiah could save itself after we had to endure separate 'belay', 'top-rope', 'lead belay' and 'lead climbing' tests just to get on their shitty, poorly set, plastic snatching power-fests. No wonder Our Lord Sharma is such a mutant. The routes are labyrinthine quests across featureless roofs where dragging the rope to the next clip is harder than the climbing itself. A right ball-ache.

That's all for now...watch it though you shit climbing wall owner bastards there will be more.

I.V. shot to the face

2009-10-25T02:18:00.000Z

We have arrived in the Promised Land. Isla Vista has welcomed us back with open legs and we. are. grateful. I still can't get over how srreal this place is. It's a sort of banana republic run by rich, beautiful people. Disneyland without the screaming kids but with extra sick. SICK.

I've been drunk and i've been a mess, i'll admit that much. Partly this was influenced by the desire to have a massive blowout as it may be the last time for a while....we are athletes after all. Partly too it was an attempt at drowning my sorrows. The Bachar-Yerian (pic from the man, the mountain Neil Gill) was wet!! Soaking, sopping, dripping bastard wet. Fuck that was a kick to the chuckies. Prety much meant that the trip to Tuolumne that i dragged these dudes on was a total waste of tiome from the point of view of the primary reason for going there.....on the plus side though i pretty much exhausted the lyrical waxing for that place and it was pretty darn ace to check it out.....and needless to say my desire to do that route has nothing but doubled! It's a BEAUTIFUL line. What John Bachar and Dave Yerian did in developing that line is truly incredible. Hand drilling on-sight on lead is arguably the purest form of development.

Alas i will keep this blissfully short and succinct as there's a-drinkin' to be done. Bishop tomorrow at some point. Two months to get killer strong and literally join the ranks of the legendary "crushers". We can but dream.

"Luck.....protects fools, small children and ships named Enterprise."

2009-10-20T20:36:00.003+01:00

Having spent yet another night spooning 'a guy' in the back of a freezing van i feel that i am now something of an authority on luck, bad luck in particular. It is fair to say that bad luck has been an unwelcome presence in our lives over the past 20 days, sticking to us like shit on a blanket, which is truer than you might think as it'd no doubt be our shit on our blanket...given our luck and all. Surely this can only be a temporary phenomenon? Still though it's been a good topic of conversation for us as we trace our way across this sunshine state. Maybe you could count that as good luck? We've got to cling to everything we can get no?

The cloud that has been following us manifested itself again the other day as we tried to start the van on a cold morning up in the meadows. The Duchess just didn't fancy it. Luckily it only took an hour for some wizened old sorcerer to rock up, see our sign and breathe some life back into the old girl. Later that day as we got snowed out and were making our way down the precariously icy Tioga Pass we came across a car with a blown tire 'freewheeling', in word if not in deed, and suddenly marveled at our good fortune. His car even smelt like it was on the wrong side of fucked. Hell we could even smell his misfortune a further 10 miles down the road! It was only when we got 20 miles down the road and could STILL smell his car that we started to allow ourselves to again come to terms with our misfortune. Had The Duchess been run into the ground already?

Turns out it was just the brakes from the hill being so steep......so there you go.

Do you think we've been abnormally unlucky or are we just a trio of whiney bitches?? Comments please.

Little update: it's now Wednesday our 4th day being stuck on the wrong side of the Tioga Pass waiting for it to open. This SUCKS. I've calculated....very easily i might add.....that i've spent approximately twice as long sitting in this coffee shop then i have washing myself since being in the US (including time spent in rivers and swimming pools). That's how bored i am.

An Apology.......

2009-10-20T03:59:00.000+01:00

What was i thinking?? Who let me write such nasty things in that last post........more specifically what was up with that title??

America, or should i say PEOPLE of America, i am SORRY. Whilst the last blog may have seemed like it was anti-US, i would like to reassure you that it was simply anti- the US system. Are we friends again?? I hope so.

The need to semi-correct myself stems from the unconditional hospitality that we have thus far received from all and sundry in this fair and wild land. To put it simply we've been taken to the breast of Mother America and eagerly set about to milk it dry, while the big Moma looks on lovingly. Honestly though i'm properly overwhelmed by how friendly, open and hospitable the random folk that we've met so far are. We've had offers of places to stay in Boulder, CO from retirees on a holiday whilst we tried to sneak into a 4-star hotel just for the warmth of an open fire, and had entire meals bought for us all simply cos we stopped to talk 'English' to them........and news just in this second the hot coffee room lady in Mammoth has just presented us with some cookies on the house!! Shazam!..........the verdict......tasty!! Anyway...........if there's anyone out there, American ideally, or otherwise (who cares).......THANK YOU.

So we're just sat in Mammoth (in case you suffer from short-term memory loss) enjoying an excellent cup of tea and some cookies sitting in a full-blown snowstorm. We've spent some time over the past few days high up at about 10,000ft in Tuolumne Meadows......in paradise. The place is stunning. A wonderland. An alpine playground high above The Valley where huge granite domes dot the landscape and ageless fir trees carpet the meadows. Bears can be a problem but i reckon between us by now we're hairy enough and ugly enough to give them a run for their money! I certainly stink of the level above shit by now so maybe that'd be enough to put them off their dinner? Who knows.

Getting here was a trial of logistics. Isn't that always the case so far though? We spent too short a time in Isla Vista, the true mythical Amazonia where women rule, though in this case not through immense strength and dwarfing physical presence but through another type of physicality. Rare beauty! The girls in that small enclave on the outskirts of Santa Barbara are, not to exaggerate, GODDESSES'. I'm out of any form of superlative to describe them. I had to duct tape my jaw shut after only 2 minutes of walking about and had to sit down rather than suffer the embarrassment of the 'crouched' shuffle (as if i have to explain what that is guys??). So alas we hatched a plot to return at the earliest possible moment to find a wife....or maybe just have a bit of a party....whichever comes first! We left with the plan to hit up a place called The Needles in Sequoia National Park, recommended to us by the Ull, who reckoned it was the proverbial dog's. We never quite made it though, having taken a wrong turn in the myriad of trees that makes up the majority of the park.....go figure y'know......we found that we were a) in the wrong part of the park (being in Sequoia National FOREST not National PARK) and b) about 4 hours from our intended destination. Yosemite was also about 4 hours away.....every cloud has a silver lining and all that.

This trip so far has been one long pilgrimage.....we visited the birth of US sport climbing....the birth of US climbing, Santa Cruz, Sharmaland.......and now the mecca of, well, i guess, WORLD climbing - Yosemite. The Valley is as awesome as you'd expect, on a scale that i've just not been able to comprehend, but i'm sure the time will one day come. One day. I found that i couldn't really enjoy the place as much as i'd hoped. I'm nervous you see.....no not cos Katie Brown has been spotted at large, somewhere in America......not even cos the rumour is that Beth Rodden has split from Time Child (see pimpinandcrimpin blog)......it's all down to a little old route called the Bachar-Yerian. I'm desperate to climb it. Its lame and i suck for getting obssessed about something so stupid as a bit of rock but it's THE climb i want to do in the whole wide world, for ever and ever. Amen. It's been topsy turvy getting here, one day we're gonna come, next day the plans change.....much like the weather in this little corner of California (its stopped snowing now by the way). Now that we're here i'm more psyched than ever. It's such a stunning line, right up this broad black streak splitting the dome. I'm not optimistic about how well it'll go but you've got to try i suppose and i'm keen to try at least. It's the British, self-defeatist way after all.

The weather looks okay for the next few days so they'll hopefully open up the Tioga Pass - the lifeline between Mammoth and Yosemite via Tuolumne - and well get to head back up there. It's gonna be cool, if only just to be in the place.

How To.........Buy a Vehicle in the US

2009-10-14T00:43:00.001+01:00

As promised.................a demi-guide through the minefield that is purchasing a motor vehicle in the US and A. We've had some MAJOR issues (see previous post) with buying our van, all without any form of reliable information from any source. No joke. The laws are so complicated and intricate, even from state to state, that knowing what you're getting yourself into before you go is at worst desirable and properly recommended!

We found our van, and all those we looked at in fact, through the website 'craigslist' (an American version of gumtree or ebay), which is a great way of finding something to your exact specs. Assuming you know to use your common sense etc when looking for a vehicle and end up buying one then here's some pointers to go on from:

1. It is a whole lot easier for you if the vehicle has been registered before you buy it (see point 4 if it's not).

2. Insurance (at least where we got it in Oregon) seemed to be by the number of drivers, their experience etc NOT the vehicle.....so it works out similar to the UK system.

3. When you buy your vehicle make sure you get - the vehicle/vessel transfer and reassignment form; the vehicle title (VERY IMPORTANT in non-title states i.e. Oregon and, i think, Pennsylvania); a valid smog certificate (if in California).

4. To register you need to go to the local DMV with the forms/papers from point 3 and an address in the state you're registering in.

5. To get insurance you eiher need to - go to an independent insurance company OR get a US license from the DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) whereby you need to do the FULL test, which costs $70 or so.

6. It's a pretty good idea to get it serviced, or at least have a mechanic give it the once over, just to make sure there's no glaring faults in it. Do this before you buy it if you can, or as soon as you can after you buy it, and let the people you're buying it off know that only when you get the all clear from the mechanic will you be happy with it.

That's pretty much it, or at least the major points any way, and hopefully it will help. California is a notoriously anal state to get any sort of vehicle but it's not impossible. Here's a brief history of our motor failures.....if you're reading this, hello, and things seem familiar then have hope cos we're thick as pig-shit and still managed to get out of it:

We bought a van with NO registration, NO title, NO license plates and LOTS of charges outstanding due to a long expired registration. We went to another state (Oregon) in the hope that we could beg a mechanic to sort out a 'lien sale' whereby the van is assumed to be 'found' by a garage then sold onto us making the late registration fees exempt. It didn't work out like that for us. We weren't allowed to register the van without a title and were informed that trying to do a lien sale was HIGHLY ILLEGAL. Insurance was got through an independent company for roughly the same price as it would have been had we had US licenses (no biggy there). Our predicament was that we'd..........got a van for $1200, driven across half of California and half of Oregon with NO registration, NO insurance, NO title a distance of 700 miles HIGHLY ILLEGALLY. When we eventually made it back into California we had driven over 1300 miles, again HIGHLY ILLEGALLY, and still had to pay the $1500 for late registration fees.........the moral of the story?? Get a van with fuckin' registration you idiot!! It's worth paying a little bit more in the first place to avoid all the faff that goes without it.

America HATES Britain

2009-10-13T20:29:00.004+01:00

Forget what you've heard about the 'special relationship' or the cheeky little fling between Bush and Blair or even the lover's tiff currently occupying headlines involving Lord Obama Saviour of the Free World and Gordon Brown. The truth is a whole lot more sinister.........America HATES Britain. They hate us under the guise of the oft-quoted 'system', the mysterious controlling force that seeks to allow ordinary, decent Americans to sleep at night......without fear.......and under control. The hate that we have encountered so far on our pilgrimage has manifested itself through, and assumed the persona of, those involved with cars.

We flew into San Francisco roughly 2 weeks ago, excited, nervous and stupid. We'd been told that buying a car in the US was a doddle, easy, nothing to worry about.....so easy in fact that the proverbial moron could do it. Turns out they hadn't factored us into that equation......or perhaps to be fair to us.......they hadn't factored in the 'system'. Of course we were blissfully unaware of this as we were one-by-one ushered into a small office at the back of passport control to find out finally whether we would be allowed to stay in the country for the full 6 months that we'd hoped........don't tell Uncle Sam (and if you are Uncle Sam please stop reading this about 2 sentences ago)!!

We got a lift into town from a seemingly mute Russian dude, which passed in silence (on his part) and excited jabbering (on ours) until roles were reversed upon arrival at our rather salubrious hotel in the red light district. Turns out we had to buy his silence (echoes of a bygone Soviet-era maybe??) with a ree-dick-a-you-larse 'tip'.....the thieving bastard! After squeezing the 3 of us into a TWO-bedded THREE-person room (go figure) lovingly prepared by the gay bell-boy......no jokes please.....a relative calm followed, as we prepared for a full-on day of van-hunting. The first van we saw ended up being the van we bought.....but only after we made sure we really wanted it by spending a day and a half trapsing across the city looking at every, single van in the bastard place......it's a nice place though, Berkeley's cool, Antioch isn't. The first day was a killer and meant we missed the chance to get our room back for the night, not normally a problem i guess for a city famed for hospitality (made that bit up but it's probably true?!?), however EVERYTHING we owned was in the secure room in the hotel, which was meant to have been collected within an absolute maximum of 24 hours later......whoops. Being the high-fliers we are we booked ourselves a suite at the Hilton down the road........$200 for a shitty little bed in a room the size of a broom cupboard allowed us an insight into how it must feel to be captured by a rebel army.....it's not pretty. We got ourselves out of there and back to the original hotel to face the music of a very pissed off queen....he was not impressed. We soothed him with our loving tones and promised him we would be back in an hour to collect our stuff in our new van......ahem.

Five hours later we had ourselves a BEAUTIFUL van (see above.......i love you Dave Gill for the photo) and were sacking it up to Oregon on a tip off from the guy we got the van off on how to save a veritable SHITLOAD of money. San Fran is a an awesome city but it had proved very tiresome and stressful for us so we were glad to be leaving. It was a Saturday and the guy we were meant to be meeting wasn't going to be about until Monday so we had plenty of time to get there, which was nice seeing as the journey took us a good 10 hours, who knew that 10 hours in a rattly van with no license plates could be so boring?? Well it was.

So we rocked up to rainy Eugene early Sunday morning and set about trying to figure out how to register the van and insure it and get plates and not have to pay $1500 worth of fines etc etc. I'm going to write a little skit on the perils of purchasing a motor vehicle in the States at a later date....it's interesting reading i promise! Until then and to save on some space i will try to sum it up in one word..........FUCK. No one knows what the fuck is going on, each state has their own methods and laws with the result that you end up not knowing your arse from your elbow. After a further day of fruitless endeavouring (?) we eloped to the student district for some pizza and met a cool chick who gave us free food and the offer of buying our van when we were finished with it.....and she was hot, which is why i remember about it so vividly!! Monday dawned and we rang up our contact.....he was an unimpressed, hungover mothertrucker but he agreed to try and help us out via a thing called a lien sale, which came about due to our not having a title for the van (a very important piece of paper it suddenly transpired....especially in Oregon). We sacked it to the DMV (like the DVLA but WORSE) to ask about a lien sale only to be told in no uncertain terms that it was HIGHLY ILLEGAL.......we'd made a bit of a boo-boo. Hearing this we decided to turn our attention to the small matter of insurance, a prerequisite in Oregon when the intention is to drive a car/motorbike/motorised skateboard. None of the major insurance places in the US would insure three Brits without US licenses. We managed to find a small place that would gladly take from us the princely sum of $900 for the privilege of not having to take US driving tests and so one bird was killed with the smallest of stones. It wasn't quite as simple as this however as in the states of Oregon you're not able to get insured on an unlicensed vehicle. The problem for us being that we couldn't register the van in Oregon without a title and therefore we would have to travel through half of Oregon back into California in order to get the rig registered, which we couldn't do as we didn't have insurance to drive in Oregon. Of course we had been blissfully unaware of this predicament on our way up to Eugene........making us the lowest of the low in Western society.....criminals......duh duh duuuuhhh!!! Cue HIGHLY ILLEGAL twice in one paragraph. The guy at the insurance place took pity on us and accepted our money none the less and so for a while at least we had something go our way. Needless to say, with our luck being how it is, the possible deal with the friend of an acquaintance never went through so we cut our losses and sacked it to Smith Rocks, birthplace of American sport climbing (Trademark), a short hop over the Cascade mountains away.

Smith is ACE!! It's got a very unique uniqueness about it, very high first bolts, very dodgy bolts in places, spinning hangers, heady run-outs, dinky holds, no feet, popular as hell. We'd never had to queue for routes before.....something that being Brits you'd think we'd be good at.....wrong.....it sucks when you have to wait for things only to then get people wrist watching and tutting at why a 5.10 slab is taking you so long. So as i've already touched on Smith is world famous for its sport climbing with America's hardest routes being put up there in succession, names like To Bolt or Not To Be, Scarface and Just Do It being synonymous with the sports' progression. Bollocks to that thought we as we racked up below the imposing Picnic Lunch wall for some old-fashioned trad multi-pitch. We're so RAD. The route we chose was called Free Lunch (wish we'd put 2 and 2 together and thought "there's no such thing as a.............") at the reasonable grade of 5.10a (about E1), surely a walk over for us cos we're.........RAD. No hold on the crux first pitch felt like it would be there when, and indeed if, the next person tried to pull on it.......i loved it though, 30m of pebble-pinching traversing with the ubiquitous non-feet that Smith is all about. Dave and Ben were not as impressed. When we saw the next pitch we were all even less impressed! A dodgy traverse followed by a hike up over a crumbly pinnacle and subsequent downclimb (toproped for the leader following a handy bolt placement......suicide for the second as you are effectively on lead for the downclimb) needless to say Dave, leading, loved it, I, second of three, enjoyed it, and Ben, tail-ending, died. The pitch after, once we were all safely on the spacious bird-shit ledge followed a (guidebooks own words) 'rotten crack until tricky stemming up an overhanging alcove allowed a fist crack to be reached....' umm nah you're alright mate. So ended the class trip up Picnic Lunch wall.......'no-one goes up there' said one local.......we didn't need to wonder why.

Our ulterior motive for being there was to meet with my good mate Dom (of Squamish fame) and his good lady Laura who was due to come down from his place in Washington state for the weekend to join with us in a team crushing session the likes of which Smith has probably seen many times before. With a little bit of local knowledge we were soon giving it boar. We spent a lot of time up in Cocaine Gully, so called cos of all the stones and debris that comes shooting down from higher up through a feature called 'the nostril'. This place was home to some classic Smith lines that followed Tuolomne-style water streaks up small chicken head knobs.It was good to gauge of how well we were all climbing, resulting in some spectacular feats of crush and some rather embarrassing displays of infantile weakness. Between us we got through some good'uns like Toxic (5.11b), Heresey (5.11d) and Five Easy Gallons (5.12a) along with lobbing ourselves off some test-pieces like Heinous Cling (5.12a - i HAVE to do this climb), Crack Babies (5.12b) and Chain Reaction (5.12c). Dom crushed as you always does and made some stylish, no fuss repeats of routes to put the draws up for us to flail on.

We left Smith keen to go back, it's surely one of the nicest places you'll ever climb at, surrounded on 3 sides by a fast flowing river, which is in turn ringed by the Cascade mountains, all within a semi-desert setting. There's a ton to get back to so if we have the time, which i'm sure we will, we'll no doubt be making the drive back up that way because we want to, no because we have to.

We spent the night in a town called Weed (hoho) in Northern California in the hope of getting to a DMV to finally get the van registered, no luck again, so we boosted over to Mount Shasta, home of the Black Bear Diner (employer of my wife-to-be, the beautiful Brenda), and finally, yes finally, got some lovely little license plates to feel like the normal, fearing, controlled Americans that we so desperately want to be. The final bill for 'The Duchess'?? Well let's break it down.......$1200 for the van, $900 for insurance and a pant-filling $1500 for a couple of pieces of tin to stick on the front and back of our beautiful home......i wonder how long they'll last.

In Santa Cruz now.....home of our Lord Sharma....staying with Shannon in her trailer (true), got accosted by a crazy old lady looking for her cat (true) and in some of the heaviest rain seen this year in California (true). The pilgrimage can now properly begin. My goal is to make Katie Brown my wife and Chris Sharma my best man. Yosemite and Tuolomne next. Will our luck change i wonder?

P.S. All photos from the incredibly awesome David Gill Esq. of www.steepmedia.com

CWIL Part V and a bit

2009-09-28T11:13:00.002+01:00

Friends rejoice for the journey is now over. Next time you hear from me i'll probably be talking about some shitty little top-rope crag called La Captain or something like that. As a special treat and going away present i've decided to mention more than one crag on this last edition of the CWIL series. Don't worry though i'll keep it brief.

I found it very tricky to select a single crag for this last post, everytime i thought i'd settled on one my mumbling memory bank kicked some more happy remembrance's to the fore. There's 3 more to feast upon from far and wide amongst this beautiful kingdom of ours.

First off - and in no particular order whatsoever - is one of gritstones premiere outcrops.....Burbage South ........Burbage North's ugly sister and often overlooked as such. It's apparently got good bouldering, though i've never seen evidence of this and like most things on grit it's overhyped, but surely it's main attraction comes in it's routes. As good as routes get on natural grit i'd say. It's almost permanently in the shade which gives the place a moody, sinister outlook yet this allows harder climbing to be done in all but the fiercest heatwaves (and lets face it we don't often see them). Death-defying routes (see below - cheers Guy), literally, and meaty solos are mixed in with a smattering of easier, forgotten classics. I've survived E5 groundfalls, sub-zero 'sleeps' and randy sheep at this place and still keep wanting to go back....so it can't be all that bad can it?

In at 2......Pass of Ballater another contender for best crag in Scotland with swathes of glorious pink granite a stones throw from the Cairngorms (and the bigger picture for most). This crag should not be overlooked inspite of it's diminutive stature and sleepy promenade for it is home to some sexy little numbers. Ground-up solo attempts of the infamous Smith's Arete were the highlight of a visit for me (i secretly could have done it but i just love the complex sequence to the break....honest). There's so many unsung gems of Scottish climbing hidden in the nooks and folds of those tiers, crags within a crag, each seemingly with their own personal characteristics and idiosyncracies. It's an easy place to forget yourself and just while away the hours.....and if you're not gay you can focus on giving it some crush!

Astounding sums up the final crag, a close 2nd in my crag of the moment sweepstake......the infamous Dinas Cromlech is roughly as good as it can get in a trad sense. The fucker's simply HUGE - 40m+ huge. Stray away from the relative safety of the incredible crack climbs of Left Wall (Rob Kennard's photo above) and Cenotaph Corner and you'll soon find that stamina and route reading ability are the keys to this Hummer. It's about as traditional as traditional gets in that you actually have to be able to climb not just be strong enough to pull down on shit (FUCK YEAH......U..S..A, U..S..A, U..S..A!!!!). History shouts down at you from on high as you retrace the footsteps of the past wads....Jeremy Moffatt (remember him??), Ron Fawcett, Joe Brown, Steve Mayers....and the list goes on. Pretty much every route in 'the book' is an ARCH-classic, the schoolboys wet dream of rock climbing. This all comes at a terrible price though.....20 minute walk-in of calf-screaming uphill agony that'd scare even Hannibal himself....spine-chilling!! For those that make it there's half a lifetimes worth of routes to aspire to....for those that can't there's roadside bouldering.

CWIL Part IV

2009-09-27T09:52:00.014+01:00

We're streaming down the home straight now so down your Lucozade (other sports hydration fluids are available) and follow me as we plunge into the ever deepening abyss in search of the elusive CWIL No.4......que??

Okay i can now barely contain MY excitement, especially as this is my personal crag of the moment, so who knows how you're coping! Crags What I Likes Part IV belongs to.........North Stack Promontory, Gogarth.....

Ah mes qui!! I love this place.......it's Gogarth for pussy's, but not for pussy's at the same time...if that makes sense?? I'll explain.....North Stack Promontory (NSP) is single pitch and not directly above the sea, so therefore is not the full Gogarth experience BUT the easiest route there is a loose E1 so in reality if you want to get out, supposing you're having a bad day and all, you have in effect 3 options....1) swim (and face the wrath of the sea monsters), 2)jug (fuck that) or 3)man up and give it boar on the next easiest route....E4. It's quite a committing place, so deservedly gets 'Gogarth' in it's title (as well as it being at Gogarth too....shhh, you get my point).

The climbing style is markedly different to that found on Main Cliff or Wen Zawn, being all about the crimp and precision footwork (deja vu somewhere here....i'm getting an S, and an L, and an ATE.....) though with the extra element of slightly snappy rock (ahhh back to Gogarth again). What i love is all the extra dimensions that you get on sea cliffs, snappy or loose rock, a big 'feel', commitment at every turn (maybe i am the marriage type after all?) and, at times, ludicrous boldness. NSP has all of this.....and you get to watch seals farting in the water and seagulls taking aim with their poo bombs whilst you're at it. Yum. On-sight is the name of the game here....anything else and it's just not cricket.

NSP, home of the first E7 in Britain, is the place to come if you're addicted to the fear. Routes like The Hollow Man (you've all seen 'Onsight'); The Bells, The Bells (photo above courtesy of Bangor's best taxi driver - Giles); The Cad; The Clown; The Long Run; Wreath of Deadly Nightshade all, in their own right, stupider (is that a word??) than the one before, following lines of ridiculously thin 'non' holds. Entrance to the harder routes is, for the large part, via powerful, though well protected, roof climbing before you emerge gasping onto the meat of the wall clawing your way up the desperate face climbing that some people just eat up (Hollow Man pic below from Tristan Johnson - awesome eh?). Belaying on this bitch has more in common with holding a kite as you watch unhindered ropes flutter colourfully up to the mess of nerves and grip that used to be your mate....the only thing colourful now being his language. Therein however lies the fun, the climbing is rarely overwhelming provided a steady, cautious approach is taken. Confidence is key. Confidence in your ability obviously, but also the confidence that that RP you 'placed' was in a deep vertical slot and not left resting on top of a fluffy bit of lichen like you think you remember. Confidence perhaps that if you can just hang around long enough without getting cramped fingers and toes you might be able to make a jump for it into the water (good luck by the way).

Ahh North Stack Promotory....never before has bold and beautiful been more fitting in describing this place.

CWIL Part III

2009-09-26T22:54:00.004+01:00

Over half way there.....thank fuck cos if you've not gone already, i'm about to. However i've started this little thing so i may as well finish it.

Third on a list that carries no significant weight or authority comes, in my humble opinion, one of the best crags in Scotland......Bowden Doors (unfortunately i am obliged to ruin the joke, such as it was anyway, to say that i am fully aware that Bowden Doors isn't in Scotland, so if you didn't get the joke initially....maybe you've got it now? If not i recommend reading the hungry caterpillar instead of just looking at the pictures).

I stand by my statement that it never rains in Northumberland...ever. Every single time that i've been to 'The County', as they (up there) insist on calling it, there's been nothing but bright blue skies, bright yellow sunshine and candyfloss growing on big money trees with happy elves dancing around waving at eachother from their magical pumpkin chariots whilst singing along to the endless Michael Jackson (King of Pop) tracks blaring out of daffodill speakers.....etc. Truthfully though, it never rains. It's also never too hot, the conditions when i've been...and i've been quite a lot...are always excellent for climbing, good friction, dry and with a decent breeze.

The style is very similar to gritstone in the sense that you may as well solo the routes cos they're pretty small and the climbing style is very specific....unlike gritstone the locals don't whine on about how great it is, and how much better it is than any where else (that's left to dick's like me). They know it's awesome and then just quietly go on with enjoying it. Simples.

If you rock up to Bowden with a couple of pads and some big friends (the hairy type not the springy type) you'll be sorted. Of course you could stick a rope on a trad climb - like this sorry pair below - but when you get to the top with over half your gear left you'll soon realise the folly.

There's excellent micro-routes of all shapes and sizes with the uber-classic Child's Play (a gift at E1 and 6a!), His Eminence (which is definitely not over till it's over and you're safely back in your car), Y-Front (proper HVS!!) and of course Dog Eat Dog (the hardest 6a in the world??). The place is so good even the hardcore elite go there....check out all the shit Moonie put up....he even chucks his toys out the pram on Stick It when he can't do one for ages....hero! Convinced yet?? Flat landings (great for those freestyle falling competitions - as above), perfect weather, routes that are high enough to induce the perky's but small enough to be safe-ish with pads, no fannying about with ropes and, on a weekday, deserted! Also it never rains. Wunderbar (pic below - okay it's good, but is it THAT good??!)

CWIL Part II

2009-09-25T09:33:00.010+01:00

Do i have to? Not really. Do i want to? Umm kind of not. Yup it's the long awaited second installment of 'Crags What I Likes'. How could i possibly follow on from Wolfcrag and Cambusbarron?? Well apparently i can, so without further adoo, drum roll please..........

Grit's arch-nemesis - Welsh Slate . In at number 2 that lovely little medium that when i first started climbing had me thinking that slate was very rare and only ever found in one place in the whole of the UK....idiot. I now know that it's not of course but you can't blame me entirely for thinking that? There are other slate quarries about throughout the UK but when someone says to me 'Have you ever climbed on THE slate' they're surely only talking about one place......

People harp on and on about how slate is totally unique in the way it makes you climb.....so why should i be any different? The nature of the beast i.e. fractured or chipped edges and ZERO friction (there ain't no features for feet here), forces moves that you simply don't encounter anywhere else. Here the crimp and rockover rule. Precise footwork, honed technique and the ability to be stupid conquer the frequently retarded level of boldness found on most of the routes. E1 4c anyone?? It is a place where in basic terms it is easy to read the rock, there's either a bolt/gear placement or there's not......if there's not and you're sketching...you're fucked!

The stories that go with it inspire as much as the routes themselves...tales of Jonny Redhead tying a toprope round his nuts to lessen the desire to fall, or bolts placed deliberately just out of reach to scare unsuspecting leaders. Ho hum! Slate has classic routes right through the grades that can be enjoyed by anyone, however it is probably fair to say that the best (depending on how you define 'best') are reserved for those operating at least in the mid to high E-grades. Comes the Dervish, Poetry Pink (photo above by Mark Reeves - hope you don't mind), The Very Big and The Very Small, The Medium, Dawes of Perception, Flashdance, The Quarryman, Bungles Arete etc etc etc zzzzzzzzzz.....the list is almost endless. Don't worry if you all rush at once, the place is as slippy as piss - whatever that means - so a bit of polish won't make a difference.

Crags What I Likes (CWIL)

2009-09-24T11:01:00.013+01:00

Just back from Australia - Sydney to be more precise. Awesome place! Sun, smiles and the ladies....ohhh the ladies! Yet another place on the list to go back and properly look at. That little holiday has left me with exactly a week until i head over to the US and A for a 6 month road trip. Exciting eh?

That means 6 months of wishing i was back in the UK making the most of my relatively new found ability to drive and the prime conditions that many crags find themselves in once the unbearable heat of the summer has subsided.....well yes quite! To help stem the tide (King Knut style naturally) of weeping nostaglia i have decided to set my throne at the tides edge and over the next few days take you on a whirlwind tour of my Top 5 favourite crags/areas on the Isle.

First up......Wolfcrag and Cambusbarron - what??

Okay so they're not the most striking of crags, nor are they imbued with spectacular lines (at least Wolfcrag isn't) or picture postcard views (actually you can see far into the southern Highlands from the top of Cambu) BUT they more than make up for it with, for the most part, hard and uncompromising routes and problems. For me these venues evoke a special fondness as they are the first places i learnt to climb. Wolfcrag was literally the first! Awwwww! At uni in Stirling at the time, clueless and without a car i didn't exactly have much of a choice about where to start but the place gives you an appreciation for everywhere else and lets you see the potential in any number of places. Even the shittiest little crags have some gems....surely?!?

Wolfcrag is really all about eliminate bouldering on chipped pockets never more than a few feet above a nice flat landing (pic below from scottishclimbs.com). There are a couple of nice trad lines/solos up to E6 but the cap of crumbly rock on top of the 10m of bullet hard sandstone makes topping out at best, foolhardy, in which case a handy sling draped round a tree at the top is best advised.

The crag is PERFECT for developing finger strength (and injuries) and precise footwork due to the slightly overhung nature of the main wall and conservative nature of the stonemasons! The blocky 'wing' to the left of the main wall provides ample interest to beginners and provides more experienced climbers with a good warm up traverse. See Dom's excellent guide at scottishclimbs.com/wiki/Wolfcrag_Quarry.

It even used to have grandstand seats for viewing the abundant wildlife in the woods around and about the place with....wait for it townies.....the mythical deer and rabbit roaming about looking for humans to feast upon...scary stuff eh? Sadly though the trees that once grew close to the walls, creating a sense that the crag was your own private playground, are now cleared somewhat diluting the place in my opinion. Maybe this is a good thing though? The dog walkers can now see the odd pasty student flailing helplessly on the first holds on the infamous dyno.....like i once did (who am i kidding, still do).

Cambusbarron was the home of my first E1 onsight, my first E3 (sorry kids but Grasp the Nettle is E2), my first E4, my first E5 and my first E6....phew! It's perhaps easy to see why i like this place so much! The dolerite, away from the deep cracks and inspite of the quarryman's work, yields very little in the way of natural holds and friction.

There are two main quarries, conveniently known as the Open (or Forth) and Closed (or Thornton's) quarries, both with their own unique character. The Open quarry provides the easier, more popular and more welcoming lines, with a sunny outlook and some work of real lyrical beauty graffittied on the walls low down. The main focus of the Open quarry is on the crack systems splitting the far buttress just before the crag turns into an unworthy chosspile (though some would argue that it already is....would you kiss your mother with that mouth??). It is at this buttress that the more amenable and better lines are found, with HVS-E1 being the grade of choice. The classic lines of Gobi Roof (E2) and Chisel (E4 - and worth every penny cos it's bloody hard) standing proud in their own right just nearby.

The Closed quarry is another kettle of fish altogether. Hard, scary and powerful sums up this place. The routes in here only really start at E4 and the lack of meaningful light as a result of the high tree line pushing right up to the base of the crag. Once you get a few of the routes under your belt it's actually not that intimidating of a place.....much. The lines are a lot more prominent and stand prouder than those in the Open quarry. It's usually a very lonely place to climb, good if you like to have some time to yourself, bad if you need someone to motivate you. I remember one time working Anabolic Steroids with another guy shunting Purr Blind Doomster (excellent for a first E5 - safe as houses but with potential for many airmiles), after a few laps on Purr he looked over and saw me hanging mid-crux 'Bloody hell that must be hard, you've not moved for ages!', 'Yeah it's pretty tricky' i shouted back. After an age he got bored and went home leaving me to continue trying to figure out how the fuck you're meant to get your weight off your shunt enough to attach a belay device to get down without having a prussik!!

I guess what i like most about Cambusbarron, and other dolerite quarries, is the unique nature of the way that you have to climb. The limited friction keeps you guessing for sure and promotes a powerful approach where confidence is key.

Words of Wisdom??

2009-08-26T20:43:00.003+01:00

All of a sudden i've got stacks to say!! Sorry about this. Just following on from this little trad theme malarky, the two best bits of advice i was ever given for onsighting (trad/sport it don't matter) was:

1. ALWAYS chalk up your footholds before you commit to a tough move/sequence - it's a hell of a lot easier to reverse something if you know where your feet are going - that bastard is gospel!!

2. Never underestimate momentum - it'll carry you through if you use it right.

Shalom.

Trad resurgence??

2009-08-25T19:01:00.014+01:00

After that 'Onsight' film came about everyone was farting from the rooftops about how this was trad's 'Second Coming', the rebirth of 'proper' climbing. For a while it seemed as if it was (as if it ever needed a 'Second Coming' - but that's besides the point), however if you look a little more closely it's still the same names doing the same things as they had been doing for a while now i.e. a few people are trying E8's onsight but that's been going on for years, hard projects are going down but from a purely grade-focussed point of view the vast majority aren't breaking new ground (that wasn't a slight at anyone by the way for what are awesome achievements).....these 'developments' certainly aren't the leaps and bounds that the UKC proletariat buzzed about (those Yanks were going to come over to the grit and tear us a new one regardless of one man and his camcorder).

I don't want to get hung up on what some film has done to attitudes towards trad climbing either cos again it's not really got anything to do with the point i'm trying to make except that it gives a good framework for the argument. I'm essentially bemoaning the lack of new mass talent taking to the cliffs and giving it boar on the testpieces of the past, present and future. I got to thinking of this on the drive home from Wales the other day. I managed to onsight a little E5 on the slate, which i reckon is quite close to my limit as far as that goes (could maybe pull something harder out the bag if it suits my style). Basically though, and i don't mean this with any sense of false modesty or whatever, i'm a pretty mediocre climber, i once flashed a V5 and sketched up a Fr7a+ indoors and thats about it. There's HUNDREDS of guys and girls out there who do that stuff in their sleep. People these days CRUSH (see below - sorry can't remember who took the pic - hope you don't mind). So why aren't they doing it out on the sea cliffs or up in the mountains....or even down at their local quarry?? Before i get onto that, maybe it's worth asking why trad? Whats the big deal with trad? SHUT UP! Trad rocks so just don't even go there. How dare you question trad?? Give yourself a slap and keep reading......sure you can talk about the anti-faff of bouldering or the advent of indoor walls reducing 'climbing' to a lunge from one pink blob to another and you're probably right.

Maybe it's the perceived danger of trad? The thing with trad though, in my experience at least, is that the moves are rarely that hard physically and any run-out bits have mostly been on stretches of easier or steadier moves....certainly nothing to be worried about anyway. Obviously i'm not naive enough to say that ALL trad climbing is like that, obviously not everything goes swimmingly all the time and OBVIOUSLY trad at your limit can be as much mental as it is physcial. The mental game in trad is often the most limiting factor in affecting someone's performance but i totally believe that that is purely a result of a person's skewed perspective regarding their abilities...in other words it's amazing what a bit of confidence will do for someone. For a while i got my confidence boosts from previous trad performances i.e. 'i've just onsighted Route A so i reckon i'm good enough to go for Route B' but soon realised that each route is different and sometimes no amount of technique could disguise my lack of strength (or vica versa) when the angles changed. Since i started to drive i've managed to get indoors a hell of a lot more than i used to and this has helped me MASSIVELY (the argument that indoor walls take away climbing and replace it with 'climbing' can be blown out of the water here). The strength you get from climbing indoors/training/whatever it is you do at a climbing wall should be your real confidence gauge. I've very rarely encountered moves on a trad route that is of a similar grade to a sport route (a bone of contention with some people this hybrid system of crossing trad and sport grades but bear with me) that are as sustained on the sport route as they are on trad. The moves have perhaps felt as hard or sustained due to all the other factors that come into play, which can usually be attributable to the mental aspects of trad. Leading nicely back to confidence (Pete Whittaker - hardest lead last year E3...excellent pic from HotAches of him bitch slapping an E9 new route).

If you're indoors 4 times a week beasting up 7b's then you are MORE than strong enough for a hell of a lot of E5s out there - onsight. Likewise if you're giving it pasty on 7c's indoors then you're MORE than strong enough for a hell of a lot of E6s and E7s out there - onsight (George Ullrich - he's weak as shit and a total pussy [hahaha] but even he can scrape his way up E9s HP and E7 onsight - Mr Gill with the pic below). Of course trad isn't just about onsight climbing so how about turning Font8a wall strength to E10 headpoint strength? There's a massive amount you can do with all the technical know-how and pure beast power that climbing V8/9/10 gives you. KNOWING that you're good enough to do the moves on something is a powerful tool in your arsenal when onsighting something.

A while back there was a post on a UKC-alike site called scottishclimbs listing the Scottish or Scotland-based climbers' who were currently onsighting E5, minus a few dodgy ones (Si O'Connor anyone??) there were under 50. What??!! There's 50 people who turn up to Ratho regularly who could onsight E5 let alone those who go to any number of other climbing walls across the rest of Scotland. Whatever happened to the 'how hard can it be?' attitude?? How hard can it be?.............not nearly as hard as what you climb day in day out indoors without even batting an eyelid my friend. Take a risk. There's people out there having a cool time who aren't nearly as strong as you.

P.S. there's probably a shitload of darkhorse wads out there who piss on E8 all day, everyday. If that's the case....keep doing what you're doing, we're not worthy.

North Wales for a jolly.....

2009-08-25T18:07:00.003+01:00

As far as trad climbing goes North Wales is the land of milk and honey. What better venue then for perhaps the greatest single gathering of rock stars on the face of the planet. Friends from far and wide hitched, hiked and stumbled to the epicentre of British rock climbing for a long weekend under the flimsy pretence of birthday celebrations for yours truly. Unfortunately Chris Sharma couldn't make it, though he did send a lovely fruit basket, and Jonny G was coring into the centre of the earth for some fresh rock to crush so he was busy too. The usual crowd (Robbo, Rach, Tom, Dan, Helen) turned up at George and Sam's place in Bangor at various points over the weekend.....their house is your typical shithole but is certainly not lacking in character.

I've not got any photos from the trip by the way so, with it in mind that i myself can't read without the aid of some pics, i'll restrict this little entry to just some short pulses of info.

Friday: Went to Holyhead Mountain with Robbo, too much wind and not enough of a rack meant we missed out on the full Gogarth experience, which was a ball ache as that place ROCKS. Had a late start cos we were lazy so only managed about 4 routes. Robbo went a-classic-tickin' with some solid onsights of King Bee Crack (uber-HVS) and Breaking the Barrier (E1), whilst i managed to gurn my way up Bran Flake (PUUUUUUMMPY E2) and give it boar on Snakebite Wall (E4 - used to get E5 but....THERE'S. JUST. NO. WAY. IT. IS). Got pissed back at G's.

Saturday: Group sesh on the Cromlech after another late start (damn alcohol!!) and managed to squeeze in the classic Cemetery Gates (the easiet E1 you'll do) with extra style points going to Mr B Robinson for his lovely homemade harness - quite how he managed 2 weeks multi-pitching in the Alps without one i'll never really know (swami belt for El Cap??). Dropped Robbo and the dame back at the train station then boosted for an evening sesh at North Stack Promontory where i managed to get a quick choo-choo on The Long Run (E5 - a kind of wierd flash as i'd 2nd'd it a few months before but a different way....if that makes sense??), before trying to 2nd the Ullrich in the dark after his pretty much moonlit onsight of Wreath of Deadly Nigthshade (E6/7).....THIIIIINNN. That lad's going places.

Sunday: Piss wet through....EVERYWHERE. Went down the Indy Wall for about 6 hours. Happy times. Sacked it to Llandudno for a night at the theatre. Had a watch of 'Inglourious Basterds' that is some funny shit! HIGHLY recommended for some ace acting. Quite dark though!!

Monday (yesterday...obviously): ANOTHER late start, weather was PERFECT. Toyed with the idea of Gogarth but settled for the lazier option of slate. Hooked up with Sam at Vivian and had a healthy days' climbing, managed my first hardcore onsight.....Flashdance (E5 - quality hooking) before Sammy did the business on Comes the Dervish (E3 - one of my all time favourites). Shick + a = ding! Really awesome day, always a pleasure climbing with young Samwise. He's a positive mo-fo. Ice cream from the best ice cream parlour in the UK and a pint of tea, then off home...sporting a gaffered wing mirror after some little schemey let his/her fat-fuck-probably-pregnant-teenage-cunt-of-a-girl/boyfriend lean on it to snapping point (at least that's what i assume happened).

Done. That's probably it for my outdoor climbing until the States (in just 4 and a half weeks....via Australia) though it'd be good to squeeze another short trip in up in Wales....got a list as long as a piece of string chock full of routes to get scared on. Climbing's fun again!!

Sex Face

2009-08-18T23:00:00.005+01:00

Thought that'd get your attention.......anyway i was down at the wall tonight and heard something quite funny so thought i'd very quickly write about it.

There were some guys there, not too dissimilar in appearance to this dude below, you know the ones, all shirts off and loud, climb with their arms and strut about the place like farmyard cocks.

One of them was on a vertical, techy route, struggling to stay on the small holds and, in extremis, shouted to his male belayer...'I'm Coming, I'm Coming!!' as he fell off. 'I don't wanna know, mate' thought i.

Made me chuckle anyway.

Why....so....SERIOUS??

2009-08-10T23:18:00.008+01:00

You may have recently read that i managed to scrape my way up a punterish route over on the 'too-small-to-be-newsworthy' gritstone edges of Derbyshire. It has a relatively high grade though in reality it's nowhere near cutting edge and is, in the grand scheme of things, nothing to go shouting about....or blogging about, if you will. What's my point? Where's this heading?

I went up to the grit again the other weekend (you know, the one where it rained) and, after spending half a day trying to convince myself that i was not a punter, reclimbed the route....so i could have some lovely photos to show off about (they're actually quite good to be fair [see below]....but that's not the point i'm trying to make). It was really as blunt as that when it comes down to it. Sure i climbed it again cos it's a great route and deserves all the attention and status it gets from people, but fundamentally i climbed it cos i wanted to impress the guys i was with. In doing so i had a really sketchy experience and one that i have definitely learned from. When i first climbed it a couple of weeks before i felt smooth and totally in control...the perfect headpoint?? This time round i should have been off on every move...at a height where falling wasn't really all that comfortable. I messed up sequences and could barely feel the greasy slopers i was on. I got scared and put myself in a really stupid position...effectively onsighting the route when i'm really not ready for onsighting at that level on the grit.

As i said i've learned from this some very valuable lessons. Every cloud has a silver lining as they say and i suppose what i can get from this is that i am perhaps capable of pulling things out the bag at my limit when under some pretty full on stress! In spite of getting quite het up at the situation i was able to scrape through and not kill myself. However i spent the slow drive back home having a total rethink about my approach to climbing on a personal level i.e. my expectations of myself. I was always embarrassed by the 'frat-boy' mentality of those gym monkeys you see strutting around climbing walls mouthing off about how they've just climbed V19 or 9d+ and thus distanced myself from them entirely. What i realise is that i am very similar to them in many ways, except maybe not so overtly! I am heavily influenced by what my peers think and as such this has led me to miss out on some of the best days climbing with some really good mates all because i've been too obsessed by ticking the big routes with the scary stories.

What attracts me to climbing are grades...but not in an egotistical way, i really like the way you can measure yourself against an infinite given scale and as such i am very driven to getting the most out of myself as i can to see how far up this scale i can get myself but there's a time and a place for everything and i'm only now starting to recognise when and where that is. Not every trip out has to be about a higher number, though on a purely personal note that does generally help. What truly matters is having a FUN time out and not taking things quite to seriously (i'm sure i've preached this before somewhere....better start listening to myself).

Shit myself have you??

2009-08-01T11:24:00.001+01:00

Confused by the title?? Me too. Not the Welsh though, that's bread and butter to them.....ah those crazzzzy buggers! By the way before you start burning your Jonny Wilkinson posters (we all know you have one ;]) please note that i'm joking! The fine folk of the little corner of Wales i've just got back from were crackin' fun. So fine were they that i may one day go back. Yes in case you hadn't guessed...and given the total lack of clues then a guess is probably all you could hope to muster...i spent a few days down in Pembrokeshire with G-Funk, Gilliam, Robbo, Callum, Liam, Sam-u-el and Tom (unfortunately Dick and Harry were busy and couldn't make it). Quite the outing i'm sure you'll agree!

Alas our merry band descended gradually on the sea-cliffs of Pembroke. I drove over on Friday night after work to meet up with my mate Tom from uni days gone by. We got lucky with the weather and climbed a few classics (like an awesome HVS girdle) and some 'not-so-classics'. We also shot a gun. We had a wander over to some of the North Pembroke crags, and happened to really like Carreg-y-Barcud. I vowed that if i ever got the chance i'd head back there as soon as i could........luckily (or not so luckily) there were firing restrictions at Range West and East (closing them off all day and night) during the one week that we all decided to head down and so my wish arrived somewhat prematurely. Every cloud has a silver lining and all that so we managed to make the most od some generally awesome weather and practically ticked the whole of Barcud over the course of the next few days. If you climb like a ponce and have gecko fingers you'll love the place! There's 3 star classics from VS up to E8 with a fair bit in between around the E1-E6 mark so i'd recommend it if you're about.

Anyway the week itself started off rather ominously. Dave's granny-mobile went the way of it's previous owner and died on him halfway down the Welsh coast. Much to their's and my annoyance, as old cockface here (by virtue of the fact that i was the only one with a car capable of carrying more than one passenger) volunteered to go and pick them all up from Aberfuckinwhatdyacallit, they were a little late in getting down to the party, so it wasn't until very late on the Monday that we were all happily united as one big tour de force. We woke, or at least were woken, at 5 in the morning to see some fat bastard topless nutter in army trousers on a push bike haring around Bosherton screaming about the end of the world (at least in terms of the Army and Air Force coming along and blowing the shit out of the sea) in 2 hours time and "we'd better get the fuck out of here". Pronto. Rather annoyed at this infringement on our right to slip around on polished limestone we complied and sacked it to Carreg-y-Barcud - the slabby, sandstone mecca of earlier musings.

NB: I'm coming back to this post about a month after i first started writing it. The dribble above was as far as i got and as i can't be arsed changing any of it i'm afraid you're gonna have to put up with any mistakes or glaring errors.

So where was i? Oh yeah....Carreg-y-Barcud. I've probably gone on about how good it is so i'll save that torment for you. We spent a lot of time there....did i mention that too? Hold on.........ok just had a quick scan. This post sucks! I'm realy sorry........it's raining outside at the minute and i've got nowhere i desperately need to be so i'm gonna just crack on with it and hope to salvage this rapidly sinking ship. Feel free to jump overboard if you haven't already.

In the end we pretty much ticked the crag during the few days we spent there. I had heard tell of a Dave Pickford E8 there called 'Gecko Blaster' (or something like that) which was a recent bold addition to the wall that probably hadn't had a 2nd ascent.....one for the Ullrich to have a play on perhaps? The only problem was that i had only ever seen one photo of this route.....about 3 years ago. It took a lot of convincing myself that i knew what i was on about before i could try and convince the others, and in particular George, that there was in fact a line up there. The solitary peg 12m up helped too. So with my appalling beta, which went something along the lines of 'well, you see that peg up there? basically head straight for it then head off left for a couple of moves then straight again', a top-rope was set up and a few whirls were had. I had done a couple of good routes earlier in the week with Tom so i set about shooting my mouth off at how great they were to anyone who would listen and pretty soon the classics of the crag like 'Sinecure' E1, 'Beyond the Azimuth' E1, 'Kitten Claws' E3 and 'Mean Feat' E5 (see pic below) had a nice smattering of chalk liberally applied to their progressively conservative holds (no political slant intended).

Robbo, Dave and myself used this time as a chance to hone our Yosemite climbing techniques....cos as everyone knows The Valley is the home of technical, run-out, crimpy slab climbing. There was a 'nice' looking offwidth chimney tucked away at the far right-hand end of the crag which winked at me everytime i looked across at the fine view down the Pembrokeshire coast. Well why not eh?? May as well have a go at some point....we've got 6 months of it coming up after all! Besides she was only HVS 4c!! Hmm.........repeat after me - 'SANDBAG'. As the photos below show, we got well and truly schooled! I managed to get far enough up so that my head was jammed in - cue the lack of helmet on the subsequent goes!

During all this George had been making headway on the phantom E8 (a brief stop at a cafe in St. David's - mega milkshakes by the way - had revealed nothing new on this 'line' and some of the disciples were maybe beginning to doubt it's existence - shame on you!). So much headway in fact that the lead was now well and truly 'on'! Thankfully Mr. Ullrich managed to find a few more bits of gear in the first few metres of the route so he didn't have to rely solely on the peg. Not so thankfully this gear consisted mainly of weighted down sky-hooks and poor RPs. The climbing is 'steady' English 6b for a bit until a very fall-offable move right before the peg allows a sketchy clip to be made. Stepping left you get a good wire and then have the uber-precarious 6c crux, throwing shapes off some finger tip mono's (similar to the super route me and Dave found a couple of years back in Siurana - just not as hard obviously). George had a couple of good burns on lead bu kept falling on this move, only to get it easily after a brief rest on the solid wire. Not keen to have to face the sketchy moves leading to the first bit of decent gear 12m up for a third time he opted to sack it off for another time....fair enough really.

NB: As a little side note George spoke to Dave Pickford about shortly after getting back from Pembroke. The line is called 'Daddy Cool' E8 6c and goes right past the peg, not left. Oops. He also counts it as one of his boldest ever leads. No mean feat given his credentials!

After a short change of scenery to check out a potentialy DWS spot on the other side of St. David's and to escape the fast approaching bad weather we decided to boost. I drove most of the guys back to Dave's stricken van amidst an atmosphere of intense shock following the news of MJs death - ahem - then followed George and Callum for a visit to Nesscliffe. We managed a go on Marlene a top quality E4 before the rain caught us up and stopped play (Callum on the onsight and me sketching on the flash).

Next up is a brief sojourn to North Wales for a long weekend before my 24th birthday (when i am officially recognised as being 'past it') then a nice little holiday to Australia for my cousins wedding and finally, oh finally, the long awaited North America rampage. I can't wait....and if you're still reading this shite....neither can you!

24 hours in the Peak

2009-07-19T18:20:00.010+01:00

After a bit of an incident involving a high speed car, single track lane and grumpy old woman (of which i was not to blame) i SAS'd it up to the Peak on Friday night (there's a theme occuring here...) to meet up with Robbo coming down on the train from Lakes. Borrowed the sat nav off mother dearest....what a load of shite those things are....nearly chucked the bitch out the window on the drive home (the sat nav, not my mum....she wasn't with me...and she's not a bitch).

It was pissing it down that night and as i don't own a tent and Robbo hadn't packed one the immediate future was looking...well...bleak. We decided therefore to sample some of the infamous Hathersage night life and, like two little nervous rentboys, eloped to the public toilets opposite the garage. We stuck two mats down in the disabled cubicle and tried not to slip on the piss-soaked floor. Sleeping was problematic. Luckily the motion controlled extractor fan turned itself off after half an hour, the lights however were not so high-tech. We endured the night, not knowing if we would wake to the sound of a crusty old tramp unzipping his fly's over poor Ben's face. Morning was greeted with overwhelming joy.

We fannyed around for a bit, went to Little John's for some food then headed over for a climb up at Stanage. It started to rain. C'est la vie. After briefly toying with the idea of sacking it off and heading indoors we decided to check out Burbage South to see if there was anything we could stick a rope on. I had tried Nosferatu before (see one of the 'Grit' saga's from earlier in the year) so we chose that one. After spending half an hour familiarising ourselves with the sequence we both had it pretty much wired. A quick jog back to the car for mats and it was in the bag. Robbo wisely left it for another day as he'd just blown a hole in the toe of his pink's. Next time sonny!!

It felt good to be able to get an E6 done in such a short space of time (even if it is soft) and hopefully it's a sign that i'm getting stronger/better/luckier all round. It would be awesome to be able to onsight at that level by next summer so that's what i'm going to aim for after getting back from the States. We can but dream.

The English Lake District...what ho!!

2009-06-09T17:43:00.006+01:00

Went to the Lakes. It was fucking roasting! Nearly died from heat-induced death stuff. Therefore the ticklist is somewhat shoddy. 2 routes in 5 days anybody?? Just could not be arsed.

Went to a party with this man on the Saturday night.......

Passed the old driving test (ain't she a beaut) so you'd better watch it you little bastards!!!!

The Olive Seller

2009-05-25T19:13:00.033+01:00

That's me just back from an aweosme week's climbing in North Wales.

Headed over on the train on Tuesday morning, accompanied by a wierd and wonderful mix of commuting types covering the whole social spectrum, pink-clad-tracksuit-chavs to tramps sporting fine examples of beards and SHORT shorts and back again via Worksop! I would well recommend this form of transport as a way to get into Wales, it's a definite experience!!

Got there in the afternoon and headed up the Pass in search of some dry rock.....didn't find much....got wet feet.....boosted over to the Orme, a whopper limestone plug over by Llandudno. Crackin'! Met some of G-units buddy's...all thoroughly tip-top and sound as they come. Fannyed about on some sprad (sport and trad....see what i did there?!?), whipped off a lovely little E4 called Pen Trwyn Patrol, which was nice. It was nice to be back on good ol'British polished lime, not any of that shitty Spanish stuff.

Went over to Gogarth on the Wednesday to check out North Stack Wall. Wild!! The most impressive wall i've seen i reckon (i've probably said that at least 59 times this year alone at other crags BUT this one really is incredible) not necessarily in terms of stature but just for the history and nature of it. A welcome home to those bold technicians amongst you! Unfortunately on this day the weather got the better of us for no soner had we abbed in the heavens opened and we had to escape back out again, which proved pretty fun actually, the escape route being an ace little E1 called Green Gilbert......yummers! Sacked it over to the slate quarries and did some stuff up at Vivian before the rain caught up with us again. Tried Gin Palace a truly disgusting E6 crimpy face climb.....by 'truly disgusting' i actually mean awesomely fun...and by 'crimpy face climb' i of course mean thrutchy offwidth chimney! On slate that does mean it's something special. A rare beauty it must be said! Needless to say no luck with that one but it was the only thing that was dry....so whaddayagonnado?!?

Managed to convince Davey Gill to come down with the promise of amazing weather (ahem) and so we again made plans for North Stack Wall on the Thursday. Someone loves us cos it was bloody gorgeous when we got up! Stayed on Anglesey with Matt, a mate of George's, the previous night so it was only a short hop to the cliff. The early bird gets the worm and so it was with the amount of people at the top of the cliff....it seemed we were going to be feeding off the regurgitated scraps - bugger! All was not lost however as it transpired they were just a bunch of poncey abseilers so once again we had the cliff to ourselves. Hurrah! To put it simply......SHIT WENT DOWN. The Boy George started with a casual as you like onsight of The Long Run complete with the touch harder direct finish, as spicy an E5 as you're likely to find. Looks like one to go back to fo'shiz and it's tippedy top of my hit-list for next time. He followed this up with an even more casual onsight of The Clown (E7 in old money, or new money, or French money, or indeed any currency you can think of) - yikes - see the Gill's pics below! My attempts at a second were...umm...woeful (is that the word?!?). Ah well i was just saving my energy for the line a couple to the right of it. Yes lady and man i FINALLY onsighted an E4!! Hoo-mothertruckin'animalpluckin'lollypopsuckin'-rah (contrary to the photo lower down this doesn't yet qualify me for 'crusher' status)! The route was Blue Peter a potentially dicey E4 5c job up a thin flakey groove. Not actually too bad to be honest but i'll take the tick! Shickading.

The day after was a washout......EVERYWHERE was wet - even the Orme!!!! We sacked it over to the Indy Wall, a cool indoor bouldering place just over the water on Anglesey. To drown our sorrows at not getting out to climb that day we decided to sample some of Bangors nightlife. This involved getting banned for life from a club called Rakubah (a shame cos it's honestly excellent!) for sneaking in through the fire doors at the back and being frog-marched out about 20 minutes later by the minciest-looking bouncers i've ever seen - oh the indignity!! Having had double bad luck that day the only option left to us was throwing ourselves off the nearest bridge. Luckily this is actually a common past-time in Bangor and so it was that we found ourselves watching the sunrise over the Menai Straits at 4 in the morning having just swung off a rope 40m above the water. Woke up with a suspiciously stiff back and having checked that one of those mincey bouncers hadn't spiked our drinks and come back home with us it transpired the pain was from the slight whiplash i suffered from a little too much freefall on the way down off the bridge. Ouchey-wowchey!

We got up far too early on Saturday and hit up the Rainbow on the slate. It started well, did a nice E3/Fr6b arete and an awesome E2 called Pull My Daisy, run-out high-stepping above an inconveniently placed lassooed pipe with massive sack-tapping potential! Unfortunatley Davey didn't have a great time on Bella Lugosi (she is dead after all) and the Ullrich, after a typically ballsy effort, had a 'tactical retreat' off Rainbow of Recaliterance via lowered rope. Can't blame up cos that shit looked pretty exciting! I tried to follow up on my previous good luck by giving Poetry Pink a bash but again the rain came in just as i was looking to move off past the first bolt and that was that. Ball ache! Another one high on the list to go back to though.

My quest to find a curry that matches up to those lovingly created at the Avon Spice, Stratford-upon-Avon again came to nothing as the local effort from a restuarant that it's only fair to keep nameless was an horrific blend of the hottest ingredients yet discovered by man and the dullest chicken that ever stumbled around its cage on mangled, flea-bitten legs. Simply - shite! Dave realised it was his bro's birthday the next day so embarked on an insane trek back up north at 11pm after 2 long days punctuated by 4 hours sleep. Mega!

Me, George and Sam arranged to check out the main cliff at Gogarth on the Sunday. WAAAAAAAAAAHH!! That is a scary-ass place. Inspite of my pretty much passenger-like status we managed a couple of ace routes in the form of The Rat Race (a 6-pitch E3 with an AMAZING 20m overhanging crumbling chimney pitch - the wildest pitch i've ever done!!) and Syringe (a 3-pitch E4 over by The Assassin). Once i got used to the fat pinches and crumbly nature of the rock it was incredible. One of the best days climbing i've ever had i'd say. Just super-chilled, great weather, high jinx and plenty of jappery! Ahoy!!

The main event of the trip actually happened this very morning up on the short crag above the Cromlech. Monsieur Ullrich got star-spotted by a dude who'd just topped out on Cenotaph Corner......"Is your name George?", "Eh? Err yeah....", "You were in 'Call It What You Want' weren't you?", "Haha ah yeah..." and so on. The dizzy heights of widespread fame now await! That wasn't exactly the main event to be honest. Immediately prior to the celebrity stalker (i feel bad making out that the dude was a wierdo....he was actually a really nice, cool guy) moment G had taken a rather large whipper off a Steve Mayers route called Overlord (old-school E7, new-school E8 - it's got a rusty downward pointing peg to protect the top crux for poops sake) which had only had one repeat since it was put up over 15 years ago. Wild. Second go on and there were no mistakes as a rather relieved young gentleman topped out for the 3rd ascent. I tried seconding the bastard. Shit the bed!! I managed to hold all the holds. Thats as far as it went pretty much as the stalker plus one watched on i flailed miserably and all hopes of being the 'understated cool guy' (much like the Ullrich) evaporated. It's brick hard. Honestly. B.R.I.C.K. Next level stuff. Fair play (picatureees courtesy of Senor Sam Farnsworth)

Got told of a job in the pub the night before by a cat named Giles. Seems dodgy though cos the guy's an olive seller who's just bought a rather nice BMW-type 'off-roader'. "He's probably just very good at selling olives...". Classic!

How did your mother take the news?

2009-05-13T20:56:00.007+01:00

I'm sacking it to the States for 6 months. Bollocks to living in the flatest part of the UK (and therefore the world). Me and some hombres have decided to check out this place known to few as the United States of America.....i know i'd never heard of it either. Got a tip off that it might be semi-decent, which is good enough for me.

Whilst their rocks aren't as good as ours and they have no big-walling to speak of, certainly not comparable to Stanage or Wolfcrag anyway, we thought it would be worth the risk of maybe searching out some new routes and basically teaching those bastards how to climb. We hope to convert them from their Pagan religions of 'Sport' and 'Aid' and show them the ways of the one true 'Trad' - 'Ultra-Traditionalism', you ain't tradding till you're 60ft above an upsidedown sky hook baby!

Itinery: Fly to San Fran, buy a car, fill with pilgrims and crush. Bishop, Yosemite, Hueco, Tuolomne, RRG, Squamish, Little Si, Moab, Indian Creek, Smith, Boulder, RMNP, Olympia Climbing Gym....whatever....you're welcome to join. Below are our reasons for going......

Lakes and Northumberland

2009-05-07T22:11:00.009+01:00

Errmm.....went to Lakes the day we got back from Siurana and climbed some stuff at Tilberthwaite and Reecastle. Both excellent venues and i found that i really enjoy the slate. Got a curry in Ambleside.....not as good as Hassan's back at home so won't be going back (to the curryhouse not Ambleside...i mean it was bad but not that bad).

Spent last weekend up in 'The County' as those pretentious bastards call it...only kidding you're all beasts and cool and whatever. Travelled up to the Lakes straight after work and met up with Gilliam and Robbo at Oxenholme before embarking on a truly outlandish quest eastwards via a pretty wild night in Newcastle in which certain people allowed certain people to do certain things that we're all not proud of....not gay things mind. We woke still pissed on Saturday morning and set about jumping on some scary things at Back Bowden thinking they'd be fine, which i guess they were. Felt psyched out of my mind for some strange reason, glad to be alive, glad to be not working in some shitty job back home, glad to be in the sun, whatever. Rediscovered my love of highballing stuff (we had 7 mats with us).

I'd just topped out on the first route of the day when lo and behold the 'ling crew arrived. The old hombres from uni. Fuckin' ace to see all them again and i air-fived my approval. Not a huge amount went down (photography wise) on the first day at Back Bowden so i'll just ignore it and pretend it didn't happen. Suffice to say it was awesome and we all had some good food in a pub at the end of it all.

Next day we eloped to Bowden (highball heaven!!) and set to work beasting stuff. Jakey boy laid down the law on Vienna (V9) and Dog Eat Dog in uber-wad-quick succession....is there nothing this boy can't do?? Ah yeah the pod-dyno at Wolfcrag!! Hohohohoho (pics Dave Gill by the way).

We got the sending train a-chugging on lots of things like Klondyke Wall, Canada Crack, The Trial, Lightbulb, Y-Font....all Bowden uber-classics. But then Britain remembered it was Britain and the rain came to halt play. Ball sack.

Siurana-on-Sea

2009-04-27T21:25:00.035+01:00

Rain, rain go away, come again another day......oh you did. Well go away again and come another day.....oh you did, again.....can you see where this is going? No? Maybe stick to the Hungry Caterpillar then matey yeah? If i could sum up my recent excursion to Spains' version of North Berwick in one word, that word would be 'moist'.

It would be fair to say that on those particular days when we 4 noble Englishmen graced the shores of the lands that gave us bullfighting, siestas, cervezas and....er....other such things the old adage that 'the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain' could never sound less apt. Or maybe it could because technically the rain in Spain did fall on the plain.....and the woods, hills, mountains, bulls and beaches too.

Having spent a drizzly first night bivied under Sector Can Megashite (not it's real name apparently) we awoke proper psyched out of our little minds and crushed the fuck out of everything we saw, i did A Muerte 2nd go, George moved in for the flash and Sam turned the bitch into dust. So with everyones main goal for the trip done we decided to warm down with headtorch onsight solo's of La Rambla and Golpe de Estado. I then climbed a super sick, awesome new trad line up the left-facing corner crack opposite Espero Primavera called Mother-hubbard Bitch-slap (E14 8a) and we went home. The End...........Naaaaatt. You idiot did you really think that happened?? No? Oh just me then. Wishful thinking i guess. Yes it's all bollocks (apart from the headtorch solo of Golpe de Estado....i fell off on the 2nd move....it's well hard).

We awoke slightly psyched in the steady drizzle and hunted about like a dog with 6 dicks for something dry to climb. Negative. We settled for the super-hard testpieces at Can Megashite, except there aren't any so we just did a couple of easier 6's to get used to a) the rock and b) climbing in general, the 3 of us having had a bit of a lay off for a while. I can't really remember a huge amount of what happened in the first few days except that we got on whatever was dry and dodged whatever was wet. We lived in luxurious squalor at L'Holla (which ALMOST never gets wet....more on that later) and flailed on the climbs round there....well i did anyway.

On the 4th day God sent down upon us a horror of which we never thought to see, namely the arrival of Robbo who, after a wallet-rapingly expensive journey from the airport, brought with him some of the sunshine from home. Literally not metaphorically cos he's basically a bastard (joking, i love him dearly). We celebrated Robbo's arrival by sitting in the town square all day waiting for the shops to open until boredom took over and we developed the art of shape-making (see pic - all photos Sam Farnsworth and Ben Robinson - lovely jubbly).

The locals were SOOOO impressed and serenaded us with shouts of pure glee, they even opened their shops early for us and gave us an harem of concubines to accompany us towards our next destination....Montsant.

Getting a lift up the road with the friendly neighbourhood taxi man was an experience. We had no idea what he was saying and he had no idea what we were saying.....Gawd bless 'im. Somehow we managed to get dropped off roughly in the right place and started on a frantic 'freestyle-night-sprint' through a 2-mile thick wall of thorns until we came upon a flat bit of less spiky ground to spend the night (see pic below). We decided to do some exploring about the place in search of some more cover in case it rained (as i heard it does every now and then in Spain) in the night and took upon a touch of midnight caving. It was all jolly, we found a whopper boulder, climbed down into its underbelly and began climbing out again. Me and Robbo were last out and just as i was yarding up on another bomber pebble lodged into an equally bomber massive jammed boulder the whole fucker made a downwards movement towards little Robbo's upwards scrambling head. Shitters. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger and Robbo's will to survive is now as strong as it can be no doubt! The rest of that night passed without so much drama, we were lucky enough to see a moon-halo which was incredible and inspite of finding a potentially suitable rain-cave we all decided a night under the stars was safer.

In the morning we slogged it uphill with the sun on our backs with the aim of getting a team ascent on an awesome looking multi-pitch way up where the falcons live. It was a bastard epic! Of course Samwise and the Ullrich beasted it, making it look piss. Sweet. Me and Robbo semi-waltzed up the first couple of pitches all totally (French)free (check the crush on the pic below - complete with 'Tssaaaaaaaa') till , with one pitch to go, we decided it'd be better to take a diversionary line up the right arete of the buttress, a line that ominously disappeared from view just two bolts up. Hmmm!

Big frickin' deal how hard can it be was mine and Robbo's unanimous decision. One hour later with Robbo desperately reversing back to the belay with tales of monster run-outs, no bolts, tied off tat (basically tying off a tie off!!!!) and hella loose rock we decided that the more regular finish to the route was a wiser choice to make.

We carried on with our nomadic existence and later that day had a wander over towards Montsants most famous area - Raco de Missa. A whole 90 billion miles away. I hate walking. Anyway we found this beeeeeeeoowwwwwwtiful boulder to kip under and serve as our base for the next 4 days, or until our food ran out.

We again lucked out on the weather and headed up the hill with a raging sky inferno threatening to kill us all. However we made it and all was good again. I learnt some valuable lessons up at Raco de Missa. Firstly Raco de Missa is INCREDIBLE and secondly EVERYONE in Spain regardless of nationality speaks English better than we do. The first lesson became apparent on the choice of warm-up, an incredible 35m 6b+ on immaculate pocketed limestone. The main difference between Siurana and Montsant apart from route length (Montsant being generally longer and more endurancey) is the state of the pockets - Siurana being VERY fiddly and tweaky and Montsant being very not any of those! The second lesson came into being at the base of said warm-up when a hot as fuck Slovenian chick commenced to drop her trousers RIGHT in front of me revealing an ass the likes of which i have never before seen and may sadly never see again. It was positively angelic; magical and mythical all in one. It can be described as the truth, the knowledge and the power. Trust me on this one it would make your eyes water and your knees buckle. So i did what anyone in my position would and proclaimed it's wonders to all those around me. In retrospect this was a mistake. She, of course, spoke excellent English, as did her boyfriend, all 12ft, 8d+ crushingness of him. Cue embarrassing crag chat as we all tried to ignore what just happened. Whaddayagonnado?

We decided for the next day to just chill for a bit and bum around on the routes at the boulder (not literally). Not a huge amount went down, by now it was a minefield getting to and from the cave cos of the various 'chocloate satchels' dotted about the place, so that was entertaining, and Mr G Ullrich von Liechtenstien went on a crushing mission on one of the beastmaker routes in the cave. I'm not sure i've ever seen anyone (save for Johnny G and the Notorious G) crush this hard (see pic).

Unfortunately the plan to have a 'rest' day down at the boulder in order to return fresh for Raco de Missa coincided with the last dry spell we had all trip and the end of our food supply. Shitters. Subsequently we boosted back to Siurana and into the warm embrace of our home from home - the L'Holla cave. What was i saying earlier?? Ah yeah that cave NEVER gets wet.....

Imagine then the surprise when i woke at 3am to find myself literally, figuratively, metaphorically and hilariously floating past the Ullrich on a tide of rainwater that was flowing freely into one side of the cave, straight into the path of a conveniently placed waterfall that was, by this time, cascading over the top of the crag to land pretty much on top of where poor Samwise and Robbo were a-kip. All together now.....shitters! We were queueing (as all good Brits do) at the door of the campsite bar come 9am.

Contrary to belief, and as if aware of our fragile mental state, the weather for the next couple of days after that actually turned nice. By this time we had cut our losses and purchased a caravan on-site to sleep in....it was a beauty, known simply as 'The King' (see below for the sexy interior).

We spent a lot of time when not climbing, or avoiding the rain, or getting into the background of Dave Mac's new climbing film, idolising one Mr Ben Heason aka Uncle Ben. He took us under his wing and chauffered us about the place in his love-wagon. What a hero! It was after one such lift that we managed to get a sustained bout of climbing done, down at Espero Primavera, a crag i'd all but overlooked on my last visit the year before. It's ace. Home to some of the best routes in Siurana for the average bumbly like myself. Here we learnt the joys of the Swedish language, watched a French dude properly nearly deck from the anchors at the top of a 35m route after a miscommunication with his belayer and witnessed some hardcore crushing from all members of Team Britain. Georgey Ullrich destroyed a load of hardcore 7's cos he just felt like it, Robbo blasted the fuck out of a 7a as if it was soft bread and, while i don't like to brag, me and Samwise just mothertruckin' crushed.

Unfortunately cos of the weather and other things we didn't manage to get a fully productive trip on the go, but thats all good. Montsant is definitely on the list for future visits and we learnt some valuable life lessons about the joys of caravanning etc. Got a lift back to the airport from some dodgy ass Lithuanian dude who thought we wanted apples instead of the airport?! So if you're planning a trip to Siurana best check the weather and pack a brolly.......just in case.

Fear of Failure and why it's sometimes best to fail.....

2009-03-09T22:24:00.008Z

For ages i thought that the reason i felt i couldn't commit on routes was due to a fairly rational fear of falling and i blindly accepted this as gospel, until recently after a chat with a mate of mine. The overriding theme in this blog, aside from the fact that i'm a total gumby, is that i seem to fall off a lot! I realise that this doesn't necessarily mean that i have a fear of falling! Duh! This in turn got me to thinking that maybe it was something else, like perhaps a fear of failure?

I've been focused on on-sighting for months now and have found that whilst this is perhaps the funnest form of climbing (especially on trad, though sometimes substitute 'fun' with 'pant-wetting') it doesn't, for me anyway, correspond well to mileage. I build routes up in my head so much to the point that i'm scared of getting on them. Not necessarily because they're too hard for me or they're bold or i don't like the way their eyes follow me round the room, it's more that i'm petrified of not doing them clean, first-time. This has been hugely detrimental to my climbing in a whole host of ways. Namely i travel to lots of places round the UK, most recently having back-to-back spells on the grit, and get next to nothing done e.g. my ticklist over that period has shown perhaps 3 routes out of 9 days climbing? That's poor by anyone's estimation. I've almost forgotten what it's like to set up a belay at the top of a trad route (don't tell my seconds!!).

A fear of failure is in turn irrational in the grand scheme of things. There's SO many routes out there at every grade under the sun that you don't NEED to get caught up in the pressure and narcissistic massage that is the ethos of 'on-sight or die'. Failing is possibly the most important part of climbing. Two of the best experiences that i have had climbing in the past 6 months have been failing on routes. I hiked up a bad-ass mountain in Wales to get on a route called Hyndsight (a veritable silk blouse of an E4 by Welsh standards) and failed on it. For the sake of the point i'm trying to make please excuse any arrogance (if you've seen me climb you know it's wholly unfounded!) but i climbed really well. I felt very controlled inspite of having next to no gear (literally) and on territory that was very close to, if not at, my limit. I got to a point where the situation was pretty intimidating and i was lucky to escape into a neighbouring HVS and downclimb. Abbing down to retrieve the gear i found that i was just one smeary move from good holds and welcome gear. Inspite of this i felt very happy with my climbing and decision making and thus its one of my best climbing experiences.

For every E5 that gets onsighted there's tens, if not hundreds, that get failed on. Everyone starts somewhere and everyone has failed along the line (except the Notorious G....and Jerry Moffatt), it's how you deal with that failure that enables you to progress (and that doesn't have to correlate to leaps in grades). There are no 'good' or 'bad' experiences, you just need to think more about what it is you've gained from each situation. I'd always thought i'd had a good mental game cos i managed to scrape my way up the odd bold route, when in retrospect it was more the combination of momentum, luck, stupidity and a strong tailwind. Perhaps the most important, and fragile, mental attribute is that of confidence, namely a confidence in your abilities in a range of aspects i.e. your decision making, knowing when to commit and when to back-off, and knowing that when you commit you won't hold back. Confidence in 'yourself'. I guess the real point of this is to emphasise the mental side of climbing, you can be as strong as Richie Simpson or big Malc Smith but if you ain't got the gumption you be fucked. Besides if no-one failed how would we ever get anywhere??

So to sum up, you're all good because of me. You can thank me later.

Nouveau Inspiration e.g. the Notorious G

2009-02-08T21:27:00.005Z

The 2 of you who read this blog will no doubt at some point have clicked on the links to the right hand side of your page and found a wonderful world of alternative takes on climbing and life. You may have found yourself browsing the pages of the best blog out there, namely that guy called Doylo. I once read a post on his blog proclaiming the magnificance of the 'G' (Mr John Gaskins) and admit that i was somewhat taken in, becoming a disciple of the G. What blasphemy?!? I could still be a disciple of the G had i not woken up to the grave injustice i was doing to the original mac-daddy of crush......Mr Gerhard Horgaher aka the Notorious G.

I discovered the Notorious G exactly a year ago whilst consuming a beverage and reading a magazine in the Refugio bar in Siurana. I was mindlessly flicking the pages of said magazine when out jumped the image of a Teutonic Mike Myers during the height of his 'Wayne's World' powers CRUSHING the life out a poor unsuspecting bit of rock, clad only in 3/4 length lycra leggings and pink vest, head arced towards the heavens snarling at the granite. My senses were aroused (and that is all) and i immediately ripped the page out and gleefully skipped across to my friends to share with them my prize.

Last i heard the Notorious G was living in his castle high up in the Tyrolean mountains running a ninja school for wannabe crushers and doing the occaisional charity performance of early Def Leppard songs for the local nunnery. I don't know whether he still lives or indeed still climbs but i intend to journey back to Siurana in April to seek out more information on him to share with the world and perhaps one day make a pilrimage to climb with him.

The Notorious G loves us all.

The Grit - Part Drei

2008-12-31T15:08:00.010Z

I've decided to carry on this 'Dosage' of blog posts as i seem to be getting about on the grit quite a lot of late. As you can guess i'm just back from another trip up Sheffield way. I met the usual crowd of Gilliam, Robbo and the Ullrich at Sheffield train station and managed to collapse my body enough to squeeze into the car. With 4 ropes, four rucksacks, camera equipment, tripod and boulder mat it ended up being rather cosy!

Anyway we were all proper into the perfect conditions (even at midnight) so when we got to Burbage South we stuck some top-ropes on the best looking routes and got some gritage going. Great success!!! We got some kip under a route called The Knock which was....umm....pretty much the coldest i've been and not died! Needless to say we didn't need much encouragement to get up in the morning!! We all had routes we wanted to do over the couple of days we were there so we jogged over to Nosferatu early doors and the Ullrich sent that bitch onsight. Beat that. No-one could obviously so we had fun top-roping it for a bit then headed back for Robbo and Gilliam to work on The Knock. I fell off the top of it last time i was on it so whilst the chance to top rope it was tempting i'm gonna hold out for the ground-up (thanks Al Lee for the inspiration....cos obviously no-one had heard of on-sighting before that film came out!) They both crushed the life out of it but for some reason fannyed out of the solo. Lakes climbers - hard?? Fresh from Nosferatu the Ullrich wanted to get on something more at his limit so he stuck a rope on Simba's Pride. A frickin' stunning overhung arete that many will remember from that crazy Aussie fella soloing on Committed Vol.1 (other DVDs are available). After a couple of goes he had it pretty much crushed.

In between burns he tried Life Assurance but sensibly backed off on the onsight. I went up for a flash attempt cos it didn't look too bad from the ground. Bad idea and i was soon reversing back down to the ground after posing for pics on the finishing holds of course.....just in case any passing Red Bull or Berghaus rep wanted to invite me to their sponsorship party. It's scary mary! Robbo and Gilliam flexed their ape indexes and got a sending train going on a ground-up of Boggart Left-hand. Bo'shank! My train was delayed until the following morning but i soon found myself squirming up the finishing chimney at 8am....which is horrible.

Anyone who knows me will know my fingers are shite. Too thin and too long, not like spindly dodgy old man style long and tin but not exactly optimum for climbing. As a result of this deficiency, which i can only blame on my parents, i get injured quite a bit. In fact i've had a torn tendon in my left ring finger since March 2005. Hooray. Anyway boo-hoo whatever. The problem this time was with my tips. For some reason....probably cos i crank like a motherhubbard and am so damn cool....my tips just couldn't stand up to even 2 days worth of grittage and they split like a tree branch, making climbing pretty painful - the memories of the pain make me cry even now! Alas i wanted to headpoint Nosferatu but cos i'm a little baby girl i couldn't overcome the trauma of it all. George von Ullrich of Leichtenstein has sandpaper hands and had no such problems, so after a quick onsight of Pebble Mill he set about borrowing mats off people to solo Simba's Pride. Having been successful in this he promptly gave it some pasty and put the uber sketchy finishing dyno to bed. Easy as chips really (big phat shout out to ma main man Ben 'B-Funk' Robinson for the picatureee below).

Hopefully this grit trend of getting out little and often will continue for a bit longer as i now have lots to get back to. Hooray for projects! I'm back into headpointing now for a bit too. Double hooray! Yes please.

The Grit - Part Deux....Gaia

2008-12-30T10:20:00.008Z

I was up at Black Rocks a week or two ago after a last minute call from my mate Gilliam (of SteepMedia fame - did i mention he has a DVD out???) on the Saturday night saying that he was heading down that way with Robbo and Von Liechtenstien to try 'some hard things'.

Conditions on Monday morning were grippy (i.e. MOTHER*UCKING COLD) and my attempt at warming up on Ash/Birch Tree Variations was, to be mild, bollocks. For the first time i actually felt physically ill from how cold my hands were! Balls to winter climbing! So with such a good start to the day it felt right to stick a rope on something headpointable. We chose Devil Is In The Details which, at E7 7a, is not perhaps the more obvious of choices but if you want to get better you have to challenge yourself eh? The route follows an existing E5 called Pseudonym before making a rather large dyno (the 7a bit!) to a very hard to catch pocket. It's an awesome move! You set up off a good left-hand undercut and decent, chipped pocket - 2 fingers if you're normal, or a mono if you have spades for hands like Ullrich. Within a couple of goes we were hitting the hold but actually getting it in the right place (back, right by the way) is very tricky! Anyway for some reason people thought we were actually getting close to the move and stopped to watch though thankfully they soon got bored - as did we!

The real reason for us being at Black Rocks was for George to onsight/flash Gaia. Gilliam was on hand to film it for his next project and me and Robbo were there to belay - though no-one told us beforehand! All of a sudden the fun day out turned a bit serious and there was a noticeable tension about the place. We hung around till the evening for the best conditions and for the crowd of abseilers to leave before George climbed up to place the crucial cams at the base of the hanging groove. We all took it in turns to hang on them and swing about, which was fun. Talking of swinging about - if you go to Selfridges in Birmingham you can get tea leaves hand-picked by monkeys for just £24, how cool is that?!? Just take a moment to let that momentous information sink in - monkey-hand-picked tea-leaves!! Technology eh? Anyway i digress. Dave set himself up with the camera on top of the route whilst me, Robbo and George brainstormed the best placement for the boulder mat - pretty crucial if you want to turn a break into a bruise! I managed to get out of holding the main rope as i don't know how to use a gri-gri and so Robbo - gawd bless'im - started to clear himself a runway - just in case! My repreive meant i was happily relegated to photographer/2nd rope. It's worth explaining that we had the main lead rope clipped into the gear as well as a 2nd rope clipped to a boulder at an opposing angle to the gear to create a 'baby-bouncer' effect - at least in theory (see Alex Messengers awesome pic below for an idea of the 'baby-bouncer' rope).

After a few more minutes of psyching and very nearly abbing the line to chalk the holds - again it's worth saying this was, inspite of George not closing his eyes during the Gaia segment on Hard Grit, pretty much as close to an onsight as you can get i.e. zero chalk on the route, no ab inspection etc - which he managed to talk himself out of, the Von Leichtenstien was in motion.

After reaching the gear and clipping in (a sensible decision of course!) the techinical crux of the route is reached - a powerful layback to reach the main weakness in the groove. It took George only a few minutes of going up and down to figure out the best way for this move to go and he was soon established above it at the start of the insecure moves leading up the groove. It was here that the reality of where he was kicked in, manifested by a 'Oh gosh-darn it, i'm on Gaia!' comment - or words to that effect! It was also here that Dave finally realised he was climbing and set to work with the filming side of it - ever the professional.

The balancey, tenuous moves followed quickly and our super-hero was soon at the psychological barrier known as a 'rest' high up in the groove before the awkward moves out right - the scene of many failures. It was again here that reality came flooding back in, the 2nd rope (my rope) was wrapped under his leg - whoops! My bad! It meant that it was now basically redundant, if i took in on it in the event of a fall then he would definitely flip upside down, however if i didn't take in he was also very likely to slam into the prow below the gear or the ground, whichever came first. Your classic 'catch 22'. George composed himself and reached out to the sloping rail, tapping his fingers over it to try and gain purchase. He came back having been at the limit of his reach. He needed his left foot higher to help push himself across in more control. It was here that he fell.

'I'm off! I'm off! I'm off!'. I managed to catch him in the viewfinder of the camera and got a snap away. I even managed to focus on him as he fell such was the way he seemed to hang in the air. Next i heard a loud smack as he inverted and hit the prow. Robbo managed to get a fair bit of slack in by running back and doubtless saved him from serious injury. Props. As it happened the pad placement was perfect, a white splatter from his chalk bag marked the only part of him or his gear that hit the prow, the pad taking the brunt of the fall. But shit the bed was it a close one! The force of the fall and the fact that the main lead rope was also wrapped behind his leg meant that George flipped regardless of the 2nd rope, and in doing so this probably also helped him escape with just a heavily swollen ass. By his own admission he's one lucky bastard! In the post-match analysis down the curry house in Matlock he said that he'd wanted to onsight the route for over 5 years and the pressure of wanting to do it so much just got to him.

We headed into Cromford, the recently crippled George limping along behind, to get some dinner at the local pub. The Greyhound is run by what can only be described as the local Worzel Gummidge tribute act - except without the inherent loveability that accompany's the real Worzel (see pic above). In other words the man looks like, and it turns out is, an asshole. We rocked up at just gone ten to 6, wholly ignorant of the pub's opening times, however our Worzel opened the doors and said he'd open early for us. This is an important part of the story by the way - he OFFERED to open up less than TEN MINUTES early for us. We stroll in and ask about food. Dave decides he can't piss in the trees where we were but 5 minutes previously so goes to the toilets in the pub. We again ask for the menu to be met with a staggering repost, (Worzel) 'What do you want?', (Us) 'Sorry??', (Worzel) 'You MADE me open up early so your mate could use the toilet?!', (Us) 'Sorry??', (Worzel) 'You just wanted to use the toilet so you MADE me open early??', (Us - by now very bemused and perplexed by Worzel's train of thought) 'No we're having a look', (an increasingly irate Worzel) 'What are you looking at?!', (Us) 'Well the menu remember??', (Worzel) 'Restaurants out the back', (Us) 'Riiiiight, cheers', we had the briefest of brief looks - having decided by now that this was NOT the place to be eating - and got the fuck out of there before he came back with his pitchfork and inbred mates. Even writing this out again i still can't get my head around what his problem with us was, he'd only just opened so couldn't have been pissed off at a bad customer earlier on, we certinaly weren't looking to be cause problems and weren't behaving like dicks for a change. C'est la vie i guess.

So Tuesday was a wash out, we got woken up by the police Monday night asking for our details but not wanting to move us on, which was curious. We decided to cut our losses and headed our separate ways. Funny Fact #1 - how much could you get with £200? Quite a bit eh? How about a car parking space at Derby train station? We parked in a 'first class' space by accident (must've missed the gold plated lines) and were told to move by a 'Car Park Ranger' - similar to a Power Ranger but better - as we would need to pay £200 a day to park there. Just proves rich people really are morons! Funny Fact #2 - Derbyshire, the most northern of Midland counties is also home to the grumpiest people in England, our smile-o-meter registered zero for everyone we met - cheer up!! Funny Fact #3 - the '2nd rope' theory was doomed to failure due to my failing to finish reading the comments on the Alex Messenger Gaia picture shown earlier i.e. "he used a double rope. the light rope in the foreground was clipped to something the other side of the crag to stop him hitting himself on the rock, didn't work though" (taken from UKC website).

Nijinski

2008-12-25T20:47:00.008Z

I feel strangely compelled to mouth off about this route all of a sudden. Maybe it's Dom's recent(ish) post about it (with accompanying video - http://climb8a.blogspot.com/2008/09/old-video.html). Maybe it's cos i feel like i haven't done anything notable since doing it myself a couple of years ago. Maybe it's cos it's xmas and i have nothing better to do. Or maybe it's cos 'why not' it's an ace climb and deserves to be recognised by one and all, young and old, ugly and pretty, fat and thin, santa and jesus.

Nijinski (if you don't know) is the striking arete that greets you in the car park at Auchinstarry and was first climbed by blah-de-blah at some point in the past. It's got a (fair) reputation as being a touch bold and a touch 'on-off' (again fair) and goes at a grade of E5 6a (unfair!!). The first time i visited the 'Starry i found myself stood at the top, rope in hand waiting for the shout up from my mate Dom, who was soloing it at the time, to say he needed rescuing. Thankfully that shout never came cos i wasn't aware that he was even climbing until he pulled over the top and screamed with relief in my face! Lucky that! As i had carted the rope up there it felt best to give it a shot on top rope. I vowed i would NEVER climb it, as awesome a line as it is and the fact that EVERYONE knows about, i just didn't think i'd ever summon the balls to solo it, which is essentially what it is. I couldn't even do it on a top-rope - but that's maybe just cos i'm crap!

Fast forward a year and the uni climbing club is back at the 'Starry. With little to do we decided to stick a rope back on it (there was a new kid joined you see and we wanted to see if he would flash it - he did i think) and had a play. I top-roped it 3 times all in a 'oner and started to think maybe it'd go - hmmm. The very next day we came back and i top-roped it once more to check for gear - finding a skyhook and 2 weighted down RP placements which i thought looked okay.

It was quite an intense experience leading that thing as the moves never felt secure even on top-rope and the boldness is terrifying in retrospect - in fact i remember getting so gripped up when i top-roped it for the very first time with Dom that i physically couldn't move on it - ON TOP-ROPE!!!!! Gay or what! For some reason my mental game was very good back then, i totally switched off everything and if i were told to lead it now on that gear i'd sell my rack! The one time the 'bubble burst' on the route was 3/4 of the way up reaching for the decent flat jug at the end of the crux when my foot popped just as i got the hold. I remember that being a bit of a pant-filler.

It didn't seem that much a deal for me at the time, and it's definitely not a big deal to anyone else, but now it feels like that was the best climbing moment i've had - and one that i'm not looking likely to repeat. Its the only time my head has been 'perfect' and i've climbed TOTALLY at the my limit with very little practice and completely pulled it off. A pretty cool experience.

By the way what an awesome route name! Nijinski being a turn of the century Russian ballet dancer. Better get your dancing shoes on for this one.

The Grit

2008-12-11T19:47:00.008Z

Without reading the title of this post have a guess where i went last weekend.......nope not the Lakes, the Peak. It was ace but fuck my ass was it expensive! Holyyyyyyy! Things started to go down hill (on the money front at least) when i arrived at Sheffield train station at just gone midnight with plans to stop there for the night before heading off for a day's soloing at Burbage early doors. The train station shuts at midnight though. Ah. So i was moved along. Found a taxi (£8) and was driven to a hotel (£35) which had the unusual combination of a brick for a bed and pillow with the thickness of a flannel for a...well...pillow. Nevermind a bed's a bed and it beats getting raped by a tramp. Got up and had a leisurely breakfast (on the house) before getting a taxi (£7) back to the station. Needed to buy a ticket so i went to the cashpoint and withdrew £30 (for food too of course) however i had a change of heart and my sub-conscious thought it best that i leave the £30 hanging out of the cashpoint. I'm just the gift that keeps on giving! So if we tot that up i'm £80 down before i even get climbing!! What the fruit?!?

Of course i got to Hathersage and decide to buy a helmet (wise as i seem to be having lots of heavy gravity days this year) which sets me another £40 out of pocket. I had a cup of tea and walked up to Burbage North. Some grannies laughed at my shoes cos they're red. Told them to go fuck themselves. Burbage (North and South - i checked) was wet. Balls. Pottered around on some easy solo's dodging the walkers and trying to stay warm but gave up around 2.30pm and went down the pub to wait on Dan. I'm convined now that Dan is some kind of prophet cos when he arrived (having mach 3'd it over from Manchester way after work) the psyche levels soared and all became good (this isn't some ode to a lost love by the way - it's just that the lad is enthusiastic and it's catchy!) Anyway got some food - courtesy of Dan after he heard my sob stories - and went over to get some kip in the camping place near Bamford.

Next day we boosted up to Bamford (never been before) and did Gargoyle Flake as the sun cam up to warm the crag. It's ace! Those jugs you see on the photo's are real. In fact they've been photoshopped to appear smaller on the pics cos maybe people are embarrassed by how large they are and don't want their mates to know they're yarding on buckets. Anyway did that and then did Wrinkled Wall, which to be fair is pretty average inspite of it's 3 stars. Fannyed about on Jetrunner then went to Millstone where we got scared off by the wannabe-wads who skulked about looking (for something) hard. Got to Stanage as the sun was setting and watched some lads we'd met at Bamford having a shot on Flying Buttress Direct. In a word - sketchy! The first fella went up and placed a nut just before the roof before hitting the lip and cutting loose. Unfortunately said nut also chose that moment to cut loose and your man was left with no gear. A hastily snatched cam was placed and he got lowered off. Quickly! Turns out it was his first effort at E1. Bon bloody effort if you ask me! Anyway we just ticked the classic Flying Buttress and went down the pub as the sun sunk back over the hills.

Next day we hit up Froggatt. After a start so early that it can only be described as retarded we found ourselves warming up on Chequers Buttress. Shit the bed thats a good climb! The best i've ever done on grit and one of the best i've ever done anywhere, full stop, case closed, stop following me etc etc. If you've not done it, please, please do. It's awesome. Good gear, a bit of exposure, unobvious (?) moves and a perfect line easily make it a 5-star uber-classic! After that we went up Heather Crack (?), Sunset Slab and Sunset Crack. We'd become star whores by this time. It's worth saying that this was Dan's first outdoor climbing since doing bad things to his ankle back in July. Understandably his head game was a bit Vauxhall Conference - at least at first - but i reckon with one or two more leads he'll be back to his old form. He's certainly not lost much at all in physical aptitude so the yellow brick road awaits.

Anyway shit went down - not necessarily hard shit (they're painful anyway) - but we went out and had fun. Did some awesome classics and enjoyed ourselves. It's bloody good to be climbing with Daniel-san again i've got to say. I like positive people! For the record i didn't really tell those grannies to 'go fuck themselves' it was a joke.

KMFF....or whatever they're calling themselves now

2008-11-26T19:15:00.010Z

Went up to the Lakes the other weekend for the Nth Annual Kendal Mountain Film Festival. A chance to mingle with the best in the business both in climbing and film-making and catch up with mates from about the Kingdom.

Arrived on the Thursday for the premiere of 'Call it what you want' (CIWYW) which played in front of, frankly, Dave and his family/mates, however it was very well recieved and probably settled some doubts for the main screenings later in the weekend. Spent Friday fannying about sharing a coffee with Dave Birkett and feeling like a prize twat when he asked me what i did for a living (no doubt expecting me to be some full-time climbing wad who was really cool and underground) and had to listen to me mumbling on about working at Costa in the worst place in the Kingdom for climbing - c'est la vie!

Anyway my raison d'etre (dunno why i'm going French all of a sudden.....guess it relates to the desire for my climbing style to 'go French' instead of the pissed sloth it currently resembles?) for being up at Kendal was two-fold......firstly to watch Dave's new film and secondly to party like it was 1999 (cos i missed out last time). The party arrived in the form of Monsieur (there we go again) Ullrich's barn shindig on the Friday night. Bought myself a bottle of rum (breakfast of champions) and got involved.......along with the 30+ Bangor uni students and 20+ locals of course! I fell asleep in some hay and had to get up at 8am to catch the first big screen showing of CIWYW. Not recommended. End of story.

I think i'm right in saying that everyone on the back row in the Theatre at the Kendal Brewery Centre at 9am Saturday morning was pissed. For legal reasons i should say that the drivers who got us all there from George's barn 3 miles away were sober.....though i wouldn't believe me if i were you. Anywho the film went down very well in front of a packed venue, with people laughing in the right places and all that jazz.

There was a party on Saturday night as there always is but no-one could really be arsed so Sunday was spent in rare sobriety. The film awards came and went, Birkett was pissed, Bonnington was posh etc., with not much in the way of surprises i.e. surprise surprise Al Lee - darling of the festival - won Best Climbing Film and the hoop-lickingly titled 'Grand Prize' for his, frankly, mediocre (in view of some of the other films out there) 'Onsight' and surprise surprise a film undeserving of the accolade won the People's Choice award. Now i was going to go into a rant about this last point but i'll cut it down to a simple observation that maybe the people working for the KMFF (who coincidentally part-sponsored and part-funded the winning "People's Choice") might want to buy new calculators cos their counting skills are shit.

If you read the last post about Onsight not being as good as everyone else seems to think and you actually agree (worse things have happened) then that may mean we have similar tastes and we should probably go out on a date and see where it takes us......alternatively you might find the following short reviews interesting/helpful:

The Sharp End - AWESOME, granted it sometimes needs to be taken with a pinch of salt cos it's pretty darned, rootin' tootin' American but the footage is incredible, the characters are INSANE and Pete Mortimer (the film bloke) is enthusiasm personified.

Seasons - my personal favourite film here (sorry Dave) that i'd been looking forward to since Mallorca (in fact i'm sure it kept me sane for a good portion of the day while the sun hunted for us). It's just incredibly innovative, well shot and even though i'm not a mountain biker.....AT ALL.....it really made me want to go out and steal a bike from Kendal town centre and throw myself off things whilst going really fast. In a word....SICK!!!!!

Temple in the Clouds - a budget handycam movie about two spiritual types paragliding about the Himalayan foothills on a pilgramage to a, wait for it, temple in the clouds. Not usually what i'd go for but this was brilliant, captured the spirit of life perfectly (if i can be so bold as to make such a statement!).

Call it what you want - the REAL People's Choice by a long way. Dave and Neil's first film and i know it won't be their last. A very humble film that asks a lot of questions about why we climb and whether ethics (like onsighting, headpointing etc) really matter to the conclusion that no, of course they don't. Has been known to reduce one viewer to tears......wah wah wah! Really well shot and edited with stacks of wads giving their views as well as PROPER tension in some scenes. Inspiring? Qui! (Pic stolen from Neil Gill at steepmedia.com)

Grit Kids - another film that never even got a mention at the awards but was just miles above some of the winners. Part of Hot Aches 'Committed Vol.2'. Follows the Whittaker kids doing circus tricks on grit routes. Best climbing sequence i think i've ever seen with Pete Whittaker making the first ascent of Dynamics of Change (E9 7a) at Burbage facing ACTUAL death.

Review: Onsight (Posing Productions)

2008-10-25T10:29:00.027+01:00

So a little later than i said here is a review of the new Posing Productions film 'Onsight'. Now i have no credentials for any of this and just fancy it as a bit of fun to chat about, so you have been warned. First of all is it the new 'Hard Grit'? Cos lets be honest that's what every climbing film will be compared to from now until...well...something better comes along i guess. I'll get to that bombshell a bit later but for better or for worse that's what i had in my head as i watched 'Onsight' for the first time.

I've been looking forward to this film ever since i heard about it earlier in the year a) cos i really enjoy trad climbing and am a recent 'ground-up/on-sight' convert (see 'Auto Giro...' post) and b) cos Al Lee is, in my mind, something of a film-making messiah (regardless of the subject matter)! It would be very easy to simply ask....why haven't you bought this yet?? Is it cos you're too busy reading this? Poor excuse my friend, get onto www.posingproductions.com (other sites are available) and purchase the bastard now. If not you'll regret reading this and then buying it cos there's doubtless some spoiler action going on in a bit, and i don't mean the shit you might see down the Falkirk cineplex of an evening.

The film follows the usual suspects of hard UK trad, and some foreign talent thrown in for good measure, around the Kingdom as they try and fall off more scary 'death' routes than their mates. I can't remember who ends up winning but i don't think that's the point of the film to be honest. The point is there's a healthy number of people getting out there trying these things, surviving and laughing about them to make you think there's a some merit in this on-sight malarky. Yes that's right, if the title didn't give you the full picture Al Lee has just spent over a year exclusively filming on-sight attempts, though the odd headpoint (makes you cringe just saying it right? no? good cos there's value in both....just don't tell Neil Dickson) has crept in to keep everyone happy. As a side note the footage of Gaz Parry and Jordan Buys headpointing....umm....the arete....sorry couldn't remember its name at Widdop is actually pretty innovative and it perhaps would have been good to see a fuller edit.

I've started to notice that there's absolutely no structure to this 'review' so i'm not gonna try and correct that, sorry, i hope you'll understand. Bear with me. The footage to open the film of Pete Robins high up on Master's Edge (a route i've wanted to do, well, forever) shares something of that infamous Gaia sequence at the start of 'Hard Grit' though in my opinion NOTHING can match the tension of that Jean-Minh Frenchie-French fall. Still though it sets the film up very well and gets you psyched to track down some aliens and fold over some nuts (the metal ones i mean.....unless you've had the surgery.....whatever floats your boat) to get on it, or maybe that's just me? Anyway instead of boring you with a 'scene-by-scene' analysis i'll just highlight what i thought were the best points and, to maintain some equilibrium, the bad points too.

For a start the camera work from Al Lee continues to amaze and impress me, it's just awesome. Not show-boat stylings like the big-money Yanks over at BigUp but well chosen, understated classy affairs that add an extra 'cool' factor. The Strawberries sequences showing Pete Robins and Nico Favaresse giving it some pasty was ace and the best part of the film for me, especially the 10 seconds of super-slow-mo as Pete falls and a cam rips. The music is really good, again well chosen and understated, adding tension where tension is needed. The routes are great, it's good to be taken to new (to climbing films) venues and see some of the big names falling off some of the big routes. Neil Dickson having a zero-gravity day on The Hollow Man had me clenching as did The man, the legend Dave Birkett on My Piano at Nesscliffe (which incidentally had the quote of the millenium with "[DB]E8 onsight at 40...[Al]And hungover too...[DB]Always works!"). HERO. Likewise i now recognise Johnny Redhead as being something of a true legend and another worthy of HERO status. His philosophical musings on the 'rules' of climbing provide the perfect balance to the almost brash 'on-sight! on-sight! on-sight!' mentality of some of the new generation interviewed.

Now to the not so good bits.....There was only one point in the whole film where i felt actually engaged with the film in an emotional sort of way, not a gay way that is but a tense 'uh oh he's gonna break shit' kind of way, namely the Neil Dickson 'Hollow Man' segment. This is a shame cos personally that's what i want from a climbing film, a little bit of real drama. That might sound a little bit sick, and i'm not saying i want to see people getting hurt at all, but this was the first film in a while where i thought there'd be some epics and there just didn't seem to be. Nothing to make you think daaaaaaaammmnn! The interviewing just seemed too cut and dried, the personalities of the climbers didn't appear to come through and it was as though they were just going through the motions saying things that were either deliberately controversial or what they thought was expected (with the odd exception). Am i wrong there? I'm probably wrong but thats what it seemed.

Going back to the original question: is it the new 'Hard Grit'? In many ways 'yes' but i've got to say (and i'm writing this having just watched 'Hard Grit' again) overall it just cannot match it. Sure editing and camera techniques have come a LONG way since 1997 and kids are doing crazy things these days but the routes captured on 'Hard Grit' STILL, over a decade later, demand MASSAI respect and they're STILL gonna fuck you up if you fall off. 'Hard Grit' simply is a Jedi in cinematic form, every time i watch it i HAVE to climb something. The guys and girls in it are just perfectly presented, their interviews say all that is needed with no loaded questions to get them to spice up the danger they're in cos it's already brutally obvious, they don't come across as arrogant or attention-seeking, they just get on with it and climb hard. In fact it's good to see them as people, just larking about e.g. Seb Grieve using thermarests to protect the landing on that Roaches E7, Johnny Dawes tiring of being papp'ed and trying to turn the camera off, Rich Ekehead body jamming (way before Justin Timberlake i might add), John Dunne down the pie shop (or did i just expect to see that??). It's a stunningly simple portrayal of a golden-age in crazy English climbing that appears as though it was filmed almost by accident and it';s all the better for it. I really wish i could put my finger on just what it is that makes it feet and ankles above the rest but i can't. It's great because it just is.........sorry Al (picture below copyright Slackjaw/Rich Heap).

So rather than just leave it there i'm gonna list my 'must-haves' for climbing films, there's not many and they're all dead simple:
1. Something right at the start to blow your mind and set the pace. Be careful though, setting out your stall at the start is very important, the film has got to have more killer than filler so keep some good stuff in reserve and dont waste your best shots for the opening sequences.
2. Engage the audience with some funny/interesting/nuts characters, sit them down and just let them freestyle their talk. It'll involve sitting through a lot of hours of tape to find some good bits but put in the effort my friend.
3. SICK routes. Goes without saying. Don't get confused with the thought that SICK must mean hard. It doesn't always. SICK = awesome, evocative lines, geometry-defying moves and/or presence.
4. Hot chicks in the sun. Hey sex sells alright.
5. Innovative footage that FORCES you to want to go out and climb. You see it so much in other 'adventure films' but there's very few climbing films that make you want to get out there. Okay so it's generally slower paced and trad doesn't lend itself to the word 'fast' all that much and bouldering can be a bit 'same-old-same-old' but where there's a will etc.

P.S. Also be sure to check out, then buy, 'Seasons' by The Collective. I'm not much of a biker, though i did have a pretty rad green and pink number with no seat, one gear and no brakes when i was at uni, but i've had the chance to endlessly watch their 2 previous films 'The Collective' and 'Roam' and this one looks even better! In fact 'Roam' is probably one of my all-time favourite films of any genre....make of that what you will. It does what few "adventure sport" (excuse the whack tagline [and subsequent whiteboy 'ghetto' slang]) films manage and actually makes a non-*adventure title here* want to get out straight away and get stuck in.

P.P.S. Kendal Film Festival is next week (ignore the date of this post....i started it aaaaaggeeeesss ago!) and i'm excited! 'Call It What You Want' premieres Thursday evening but i'd recommend catching it on the big screen on the Saturday (9am i think??). Check out steepmedia.blogspot.com for the trailer and more of Neil Gill's pics (like the one below). Looks smashing! Jolly good.

P.P.P.S.S.S. etc. Saw Dosage V too.......it's not bad i guess.

Cowboy's Wedding

2008-10-12T16:29:00.020+01:00

Was up in the Lakes over the weekend weren't i? The Cowboy and Helen were getting married up in Langdale and had requested my presence. Congratualtions guys!!! I obliged and thus am able to give an accurate account (minus booze induced memory loss) of the proceedings from this past weekend, lest you should hear of it from someone who wasn't there. Introduction over so time for the main meat.

I travelled up having collected my dole money earlier in the day (it's not funny but it is depressingly true) with that stalwart of decent British travel, the fine chariots of the National Express! Rule Britannia!!! Fast forward 5 hours and we arrive in Kendal - an hour later than planned.......no changes there then! We country folk fear change so in a way it was a good thing. Anyway stepped off the bus in the land of the anti-sun and met up with Dave (www.steepmedia.com - AWESOME looking film coming in time for the KMFF) at the indoor wall for a quick climb. I've been climbing a lot lately indoors at Bear Rock in Warwick (even seen Rich Simpson beasting it there too - but don't tell anyone!!) but it makes such a difference climbing with someone you know isn't gonna kill you - at least on purpose anyway - and at a wall that actually has some decent route setting credentials. Whilst Bear Rock has a some really good bouldering (mainly cos there's so many holds on the steep board that you can make up your own problems) it's route setting on everywhere but the main wall (a good 75% of the place) is at best shite! Why is that? Answers on a postcard please.

I had to get my sprigs of lavender out to make a potion warding off evil cos the next day dawned bright and clear with the promise of some late afternoon sun. If Dan and Helen needed a better omen for their marriage i couldn't think of one! We had made plans to hit up George's barn board but a combination of factors largely influenced by the relative comfort of our beds and the fact that George was away down in Bangor made it tricky to summon up the required motivation. So we settled for a leisurely start of breakfast and a walk round the village (haha that sounds so lame!!).

The wedding itself was awesome, kudos to the Cowboy and Helen for not forgetting their lines and choosing a great place to have a shindig. It was great to be there and cool to see how happy they both looked and are! Well done guys! Helen looked beeeeowwwtiful in her dress and Dan just looked nervous (in fact he said something about being more scared at the wedding than he was 10m up that E3)! They're off to Canada for a couple of weeks and Dan will hopefully be passing on my phone number to the hot French/Canadian waitress at the Howe Sound Brew Pub in Squamish (cheers buddy!). The free bar in the evening was a NICE touch and the free meal before hand - which was a total surpirse cos i thought the uni guys were too wild to be allowed to sit down with others for a respectable meal!! (thank god we weren't) - was excellent. Chin chin!

From this....to this (they scrub up nice!)

It was really cool seeing my mates from uni again. Everyone i used to fanny about with from there still lives up that way so i don't get the opportunity to see them much which is a shame but makes the times when we do manage to get together all the better. Next stop the Kendal Film Festival in November i guess!

On a totally different note i'll probably be getting Al Lee's new flick 'Onsight' by the end of the week (it's on pre-order baby!) so i might do a short review of that and Dosage V (which i'm borrowing - hmmm clue as to its quality??) in the next week or so. Because i'm cool and qualified enough to comment on these things of course! In fact while i'm on the subject - and i'm sorry for continuing to plug this - Dave's film 'Call It What You Want' will have an all singing, all dancing trailer up by the end of this week (maybe!) and from what i've spied so far it honestly looks amazing and will definitely give the 'real' climbers on the forums something to spraff about!!

Jonny G

2008-09-22T18:20:00.006+01:00

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