Sunday, 13 April 2014

Fly Agaric - A New Level Of Difficulty In The Moors

When the tacky sap goes tack the other way, you know that you're in trouble. You see bubbles in the mist, sand out-breaking from its matrix. You know it's time to levitate out of there, but there aren't any holds. Devil-placed razors slash at the fingertips and whatever rubber you have on your feet shears and skids to leave an undulating flare of sketch. And ride the crest my son, for you are on Jesus's penguin tails and if you should let go, you're gonna go miles. If yon belayer fails to run, you'll be digging up rocks and turf. Bear down on the jelly wild surf and propel to paradise regained. 

A razor dish leaves an imprint on the soul. You go through life as a balloon, with tethers slowly growing that bind you to normality. Arbitrary. In a dangerous place, the smaller the hold, the more it cuts through these ties and you end up floating off in somewhere slightly less subjective. It's only a hold in this reality - in other worlds it's a friend or good time or whatever. And so you can use the physical here, to deconstruct what some people see as the real world. One man's backwater is the centre of the universe, one man's impossible is a runway. You can make up your own world.

Today was a fine day. I'd declared this blunt rib too hard for me and had it in the back of my mind as the preserve of the lunatic. But there I was - mid-crux and flying. Fly Agaric is the polkadot mushroom that makes the soul fly - to be a giant or a dwarf is the choice it lays at our feet. It's hard to not get over the top. Thorough enjoyment was how I'd describe it. I had originally thought this would be safe and hard, but we measured the fall today and you'd definitely hit the deck from the crux (only 6 metres mind). With a running belayer you probably wouldn't, which puts it in the midish bracket of safety. I've sort of lost track of how hard the move is. Certainly at least English 7a, but I think the original 7b I gave it might be a bit over the top now the holds have cleaned up - but maybe I've just got stronger? I'm certainly crimping ridiculously at the moment - it's wizard! Circa H8 7a I'd have thought.

It wasn't the end of the day either. Dave climbed the mighty 'Death Arete' to give a trouser-browning E7 6a. Top line that like.

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