Its not enough just to pull on the holds, its the ability to flow between them that makes a climber. But, its easier to flow between holds if you are stronger. And, its easier to get stronger than it is to learn the movement. At the change in seasons and thus changing style of movement (from lime to grit) the differences become all too evident. A basic summer of pulling down gives way to technical tomfoolery, having to think in the third dimension and of hitting the ground every time you fall. AND I FUCKING LOVE IT!!!!
Me, Jim, James and Nik met at a midge infested Earl Crag last night. When I arrived it was raining, but it was quite cool so I had new crag excitement and reasonable hopes it could be ok/get better. I ran in my work shoes through the mud to get to the crag where I found Foley settled beneath 'The John Dunne slap'. Within minutes of my arrival the wind stopped and the midges came out in force. The image of Jim in a white vest in the middle of a cloud of midges is not something I want to repeat. Foley's head looked like he had teenage acne. They bite me but I mustn't be allergic to their saliva or something, as its irritating when I'm there but when I'm not its all fine again. Underworld and Underpants look good. Its so midgey we give up and walk back to the car, then Jim suggests a look at the hitching stone, which looks to be a short walk across moorland to a buckstone sized lump.
Off we quest across bog and marsh to a boulder which never gets any nearer... days and weeks pass and the four of us (and the dog) quest on, my work shoes are sodden and at several points enthusiasm plummets and we/I consider turning back. But, eventually, and without loss of any of our number, we reach the block on the horizon. Like a river bursting its dam, enthusiasm rushes back and I'm racing to put my boots on to be the first to do a problem - it doesn't look great but there's nay midges and I want something for my money. We bust out the big numbers - a 5 goes down. Attention turns to the 'line' of the boulder and I squeak my boots for a go, but despite my thrutching around in the reeds I cant actually get my ass off the floor. Thankfully, neither can anyone else, at least not until doctor Midge bait steps up and manages to pull on. But not move. Eventually, I do move 1, Jim does moves 2 and the top and foley also does move 2. Nik cannot summon enthusiasm to do anything. Jim looks set in for a siege, and I can see one of those video moments where we are all waiting with our coats, ready to go whilst Jim has 1000 goes in the gathering darkness, but its so out of reach that even he has to admit defeat. We walk out and go to the Chippy, which is about 20 miles away past three or four other closed chippys.
Its good to be back on the grit, but its not time yet. Andy Hutchinson and Dylan sound keen for Wednesday. I am desperate to get back to the Sissy, because I think I can do it. No word from Brown as yet.
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