Wednesday, 8 November 2017

Stalemate


It's been a fun autumn. I've been getting out loads and keeping that summer psyche going. Each year you seem to get it a little more sussed: go wild in spring, pace yourself in the heat and moist summer, then go wild for those last few decent weeks of the year. We've not got many weekends between now and December, but the forecast is looking dry and temperatures are certainly not high.

Since The Aghori, I seem to have spent most of my time getting shut down on things. I've got three big projects: The Holy Grail Wall at Kay Nest, The Magic Scoop at Highcliffe, and Pippi Longstocking Direct at Round Crag. The last of these is easier than the other two and they're all either highballs or safish routes. These things are a very logical and good next step whilst we're still in the fallout from Nothing Lasts in April and it's a good excuse to try and get stronger at climbing.

I've been trying the Magic Scoop for several years now and on a good few occasions, I've thought that I've had it sussed, only to then find that I couldn't actually link the moves together to get established in the groove. At last the other day, I unpicked some foot beta that allows a sensible entry into the highball scoop. Unfortunately the consequent pad party proved unfruitful, as the line started to seep with water. This thing really hangs in the balance for this year - if the weather stays dry, we might just have another chance.

Of a different style is the Holy Grail Wall. This thing doesn't seep, but owns one of the most rancid, disjointing sequences I've ever encountered. It's outrageously spanned and poorly furnished with holds. One of the holds that starts to feel like a jug is a 3 finger sidepull, around which the problem pivots. You can get onto this and start to come around the corner on it, but to then engage on it at full reach is pure ming.

Sunday, 10 September 2017

The Landslip Arete H8 7a

It's 10 days ago that I climbed the arete at Landlsip. Funny really - something that seems so impossible and so unlikely, now feels like it has always been there. My ascent of that line feels as if it always has been, as if it was beyond even predetermined. I can't imagine my life without it.

I used the word "privilege" at the time. This is a word that is thrown around a lot these days, but with this line I really meant it. It's a feature that forms the backdrop of so many people's lives in the Moors and that it was unclimbed for so long is rather mental. Whether it is just there as locals walk their dog, or as  rangers repair the path, or that looming line for all of us that walk into the Wainstones along the low path, the Landlslip Arete means so much to so many of us. 

Working it has been a great time in my life. I walked past it for many years before I eventually tried it on a rope. Those first few times I dangled from the stake, it was totally unfathomable - which side? Which holds? Where? How? After this I was up there with friends - all boggled, all excited. It was tantalising. There were some beautiful days up there by myself - generally in between other projects and often on sunny mornings, when the dawn sun blazes across the face. It's a special place up there - made all the more special by the total lack of other climbers up there. 

The day of the ascent was suitably relaxed and enjoyable. We'd had all our gear nicked in Italy, but what remained was everything I needed to protect the climb. I dusted off my old Ecrin Rock helmet that hadn't been nicked and which I hadn't worn since a kid. I went up and down a few times to place the gear and with a couple of last goes on the moves I was ready.

The groove feature is followed to a good hold right of the gear that allows a span onto a pocket on the right side of the arete. This feels like a natural resting point, but on the headpoint I just blasted through. I didn't stop at any point - with liquid chalk on my fingers, calm determination tingling my body and the moves engraved on my mind, there was no need to. Within 4 moves of the ground I started to position myself for the crux. I turned from the right side of the hanging arete to the left, with my feet still on the lower wall. I was below the roof, with my right hand on the arete and my left fingers locked in the pocket further out left. From here you're in a strong position, with a sharp arete and a decent pocket.

The next move is the crux and you explode from this position of strength, with a foot thrown right between your hands. You're not so much placing the face-high right foot as pasting it on the lip of the roof. From here you're in the ridiculously position of then walking your foot into the good foothold, which is even further across to the left. At this point, onsight, you'd feel like you were totally trapped and likely be testing the gear in the back of the roof. Fortunately for me, this move was well rehearsed and I knew that if I pulled up just a couple of inches, I could readjust my right arm, which would allow my knee to come round. It's a ludicrous move. 

As soon as you've got past the point equilibrium, the move becomes progressively easier. The climb then becomes a series of bodily expressions - facing down, to the side and up. You point with your toes, gesture to the air - it feels like a real dance. It was and is magical. 

On the headpoint I got an enormously tired right arm, which made the final 'out of the swimming pool' move, at which point you're facing a ground fall, feel a little too spicy. Luckily I didn't fall off and I managed to have a lovely relax on the Merlin's Roost.

A brilliant experience for sure and it feels like a conclusion to summer. It's September now and the weather really feels like it's getting set for winter. I'm enjoying sitting by the fire and pots of tea increasingly more, but perhaps even more than that is the thought of those last 3 big routes. I haven't done this for a while, but these are them and here they are! :

1) Pippi Longstocking Direct
2) The Holy Grail Wall - Kay Nest
3) The Magic Scoop - Highcliffe

I've learnt not to expect to climb any of these in the near future. They each demand something of me that I currently do no have. To climb any of these before Christmas has to be seen as a bonus, but all of them are distinctly possible. I've tried them all on the lead/solo, with varying degrees of success. Each are 3 stars and very bouldery in style. exciting times ahead!

Monday, 10 July 2017

Boomerang Wall E7 6c

Photo: Rob Greenwood
The rolling rubber of a knackered shoe is aggressively stabbed at the smallest of micro nubbins. Facing right, outside edge of a left foot starting to come off the good hold, body-weight moving upwards, pulling harder on the spanned-out holds. Will the right foot hold? Will the nubbin disintegrate? Will my body hit a point of equilibrium; a cul-de-sac in the maze, where upwards is no longer an option?  The aggression in the right foot wains, I take a moment of pause. I might be coming off..

Killer instinct! Think for one millisecond about your position and your slump and resignation is forced to fire out more rage. The waves of disordered anarchy below are vanquished to irrelevance so long as you remain on the wall. Pull!

The move is to keep on this tiny right foot, arms out-spanned in a huge layback, and then bring the inside left foot to groin height and onto a decent blob.  It's a couple of centimetres before the good blob that I feel my hands slipping and the nubbin taking too much of the weight. The fall from here is a heather cartwheel, crushing Anna and Phil along the way. Pull! The fingers stick, the foot is on and I can style my way to the good holds.

Even the less desperate routes offer exciting moments.

Tuesday, 23 May 2017

Finding My Way In A Post-Truth World

Photo: Russel Lovett - I Am You (E7 7b **)

The world has crumbled! Nothing Lasts is born!

The irreality of it all. It's mad trying to find sense and reason after a moment like Nothing Lasts. Something that was that out there for me just feels in a parallel universe to what else is happening in my climbing.

I've been climbing very well (for me at least) recently and I'm trying to make sense of the very best 3 star lines that I have left - I've even made a list, which I don't often do..

The best thing I've climbed recently is pictured above. I Am You  is a stonker of a line, mentioned in the NMC guide as a prime feature and tried a bit over the years by various people. My forte is groove climbing and, whilst this is a bit of a marginal groove, it did afford some top-quality slapping. The video is absolutely radged!  haRdsAnD! coming soon..

Monday, 10 April 2017

Nothing Lasts H10 7a ***

The name is about our place in space and time. All that we are, will one day cease to be. With the immense sadness that this realisation brings, comes an opportunity to rid oneself of the shackles of the human condition. We can reach a blissful trust that the rawest of our essence is beyond the physical world and at that point abandon fear. To climb this line you have to not only accept that your existence is finite, but want to celebrate that fact. It is the embodiment of that which is most eternal, whilst offering us the most fleeting of moments on this earth. It is out of the blankest of rocks that the holiest realities form.

“The Journey” to climbing this has been a really special one. I’ve been trying it since just before I moved to Northumberland, so it’s linked closely in my thoughts to settling down up here with Anna and feeling at home in a new area. Of course the people I’ve met here have played a huge part in feeling welcomed. The Northumberland scene is quite a stern one at first, but the people are so friendly – We’re all up here doing the same things, delving into the esoteric and generally having a bit of a mad time. I’ve started climbing a lot with Si Litchfield, who’s a bizarre character – filling you with fine-dining tips, ridiculously high-register vocabulary and bags full of psyche. He’s brought a great energy to the whole region – long before I turned up and is central to this new wave of Northumberland, and now North York Moors development. It’s sad to be climbing less with Dave Warburton these days, but I’m sure his injury will heal.

Of course Sandy itself is the focal point of the experience. It’s here that another character looms of supreme significance. The crag is dominated by two aretes – this one and that of Mark Savage’s Greenford Road Direct (E8 6b ***). The whole cliff feels like an amphitheatre, a castle, an out-spanned hawk. These two lines sit as gods at the high alter. It’s strange now to look back at this line and see the clear mentor Mark has been for me at this crag, mirrored in our two routes side-by-side. I think it meant a great deal to both of us when I topped out on Nothing Lasts.  There couldn’t be any greater imagery for me finding my place here. 

Tuesday, 28 March 2017

A Good Start To Spring 2017

Boulby Wall E8 6c**
It's been a long time since I posted - I think blogs are kinda going out of fashion...Buying a house, lots of work, guidebook, festival and access stuff is my excuse.. Will this be the last post ever? haha! I'm in one of the most interesting parts of my time climbing so far. Unfortunately most of this interest is internal. The biggest thing that's happening at the moment is the progress on the Sandy Arete. For the first time, I'm seriously thinking about leading it - that blows my mind.

Doesn't quite look as desperate as it feels! 
I was up there the other day and Dan Varian happened to be having a look at the moves. He basically knocked over my last mental obstacle, which was me getting terrified on the final 6c move after a load of hard climbing. Stupidly I'd missed that at the very end of the arete you can step left and do a steadier move and place a decent wire. So that's it! It is going to take a few logistics sessions to practise climbing with lead ropes etc, but we're getting seriously close now. Perhaps Dan may pip me to the post.. Pretty stoked to do it either way to be honest.

In other news, I've done a couple of things I've been trying for ages in the past month- The Boulby Wall (E8 6c **) and The Futuristic Herring Gull Project (font~7+whatever, can't justify harder than H7 as it's not very high, but still rock solid..) Really chuffed with getting them done - particularly Herring Gull. It's routes like these and MYXOMOP that mean the most to me. Such fantastic climbs and such little battles.

Saturday, 26 November 2016

Why climb hard?

A very unsatisfactorily answered question is why it is important for climbers to push themselves on rock. At one point we all found a VS beyond the realms of our imagination. Maybe that soon changed. Maybe it didn't. 

I was reading a thread on UKclimbing recently where people were talking about the routes they had enjoyed most that year. Unsurprisingly, the majority of these routes were at or just slightly below the maximum grade that each individual was capable of climbing. The excitable and ambitious were perhaps more likely to pick a "best route" nearer their limit. The more mellow (or perhaps falsely modest) keener to pick a slightly easier line.

I've sat opposite climbers who have dedicated their whole lives to the pursuit of hard moves. Sometimes these chaps and chappesses were even going for bold routes to. They grasped for reasons: more interesting moves; better lines; a more finite moment. These are all arguable points for the pursuit of the extreme, but smack a little of justification rather than causation. 

It was as I read this thread that it dawned on me that the question of "why push yourself on rock?" is ultimately the same question as "why climb?". Climbing is rarely about simplifying life and it certainly isn't often about taking the easiest line. Unless we're talking pinnacles, the easiest way to the top is usually up a scrubby path. PLATITUDE ALERT: We chose climbing not for the destination, but for the journey. (If I spoke a little more like that all the time maybe I would be sponsored). But, yes, this is true. The reason we took up climbing is because we'd had our fill of walking. The inane monotony could bring a certain kind of hedonism, but this was dull and without focus.

The first time we were drawn to the vertical was the first time we took a different path. Rather than becoming blanded out into where we were heading, we were forced to engage in the acute physical riddle afore.  To try and climb a harder line is to be halted more abruptly, to be velcroed to that moment and forced to introspection. At the farthest limits of our capabilities there is the purest parallel to what was our first moment of climbing. 

Wednesday, 24 August 2016

Black Knight


The Wainstones swirls in ancient horrors on the sandstone blood alter. Chieftains slain, classics climbed; Tony Marr hanging from Ali Baba. One line pierces insurmountable above all others. A 'proper' E5 6c, tackling the chin of the Sphinx through contortions in the wild.

A thousand shimmering crystals sweat the hot sun. The beads of moisture crumble to rubbing skin; and the fingers pain. I'm hanging under the Sphinx face, blindly pushing micro tricams into deep flared pockets. "That feels about right". Three tricams. I come down for a long rest, trying to tell myself it's getting a little cooler. "Best to go home". "But I want to do it today!" Against my better judgement, I go for it.

I'm up the groove, climbing poorly, thinking about the order of my hands and not knocking the gear out. I don't feel committed yet, but am quickly past the tricams and I know I'm not coming back down. "If I jump off now, I'll be testing the cams anyway". Onto the crux and I'm fingerlocking. "Why am I climbing a greasy crack?!"I fumble positions and slap onto the arete.

"Whaaa! I'm really here now - the most outrageous position at the Wainstones. Yes!" Feet move endlessly, hands make increments. I get my high right pinch and left crimp. "Eeee, that don't feel too good".

"I have to get this foot on first time, or my hands are going to slip off". My foot is thrown, apparently by my own body, towards the hold. It misses. "Damn". My hands slip a little further. The sun burns my back. Second go; it misses again. Time for the grovel - knees and feet; finally it goes on. "My core was too wrecked to do this today!"

I'm now on the lip of the arete, The tricams aren't that far away, but are a haunting presence at the back of the roof. I match the left crimp with my foot. "ahhhhh! Slipping!" My left toe curls like a banana and appears to be the only thing keeping me on. "Come on!" Latch! The hips are back in and suddenly I'm at the break. "Might have been a little close that".

Saturday, 20 August 2016

Torridon


I've just got back from Torridon. Primarily this was a relax and a seafood trip, but there was inevitably some climbing. I have a bit of an ambition to climb at more Scottish crags and I've always been drawn to the north west coast. Of course being a sandstone man, Glen Torridon has always been a bit of a point of interest.


The trip was all a bit last minute and we ended up nearly without a guidebook at all, which would have been a bit rubbish. We camped in a massive midgey bog on the first night, which was fairly horrid. The sun brought warmth and fewer midges and we made our way up to Seana Mheallan.  We had a lovely day doing the classic extremes there. Nice big routes, traditional moves, loads of gear.

From the selective guide we had, there was an obvious gap, which I had an ab down and decided against trying. After a bit of a look on the internet, this appears to be Dave Macleod's Present Tense. Could be wrong on that one. It's a really decent line. Quite a big feel to it, steep and the protection looks pretty spaced. Quite a strange route in a way, as it is like E3 rock architecture, but devoid of footholds. Good effort to Mr. Macleod if that is it - top line.

After various swims in rivers and seas, we went to Daibaig and climbed on the slabs there. Again, world class lines that are beyond criticism. There were even some bats on route.

The unclimbed line situation in a place like Torridon is very interesting. There is unclimbed stuff everywhere and there is stuff not worth doing that people would be falling over each other to climb in basically anywhere in England. There were lines at Daibaig in particular that would easily be 3 stars in the peak, but seem kind of out of kilter with the whole ethos of Torridon. With such a massive drive required to get there, there's a decent argument that any climbing there needs to be fairly fundamentally different to climbing elsewhere, but I suppose if a route is decent and a good challenge then why not? This was my justification for climbing what is probably the worst route in Torridon,

The weather gradually got hotter and hotter, until we elected for a beach and cragging day on an undocumented crag near the campsite. A bit like a mini Reecastle. Some might say our new offering was a bit short for Torridon. Perhaps! Very handy if you have a spare hour in Shieldaig though.

Saturday, 13 August 2016

Nearing The End.....Maybe....

It's so good being able to climb all the time. Since I've been on holiday, I've been getting out stacks. I'm fitter, stronger, lighter and I'm getting a lot more hours on the rock. A considerable part of this time has been spent in the Moors, which has been class for trying old projects and trying new things. It's interesting to see that Dave is also starting to try some of the harder things more seriously, which I think he's actually feeling more solid on than me. 

Additionally to Dave, there's obviously been the Randall, Rankine and Furniss hits, which are producing meaty pitches and new testpieces all over the shop. Everyone agrees that the best climber in the Moors is still Matt Ferrier though and we all await his moment of genius that becruddens us all. 

But yes, my attentions (although not always physically) have mostly been on the Sandy arete still. I've not blogged about it for a while now, as progress had been so infinitesimally gradual. It still moves on very slowly; I can link it now about half the time,  perhaps more if I full on go for it. The problem lies in the nature of the climbing, which is just sketchy as hell. On all the crux moves, you have to latch the holds just perfectly in order to stand a chance on the next one. If you fudge a slap, then you stand little chance of repositioning and the next move is guaranteed to be an all-out screamer. If I manage to climb the route, it will have to be a moment of utter sequence perfection.

On top of the physical and mental sides of the route, there is all the logistics. I've managed to ratchet down the hook, which makes it quite bomber. The only problem then lies in placing it and whether it's just going to snap if I fall 10 metres onto it. I did consider not using a hook for protection of the rock, but the placement is really good and I really don't think it will break. Pretty sure the hooks will though!

So, definitely closer and feeling like it's not that far away. Often at this point things go very quickly and you're on the lead before you know it, but I think with a line of this magnitude, which poses a couple of challenges I've not encountered before, I need to take a little bit of time. Someone else has been on it recently, so we'll see if I do it first!