ironmonger

I could launch into a massive diatribe about all thats gone on since I last put finger to keyboard, but I will spare your eyes and my fingers for reasons of time - the same restrictions preventing more eloquent and lengthy postings here lately too.

So, the day I went with Ned and Ed to Anston, I opened my account on a Mike Adam's masterpiece called Dark Art. I can remember going years ago when Dan did it and being amazed and thinking that there was no way I would ever do it. Well, on the weekend before I had a bit of a do, and actually thought I could believe I could do it. Suddenly I had gone from ambivalance about the place to scrabbling for chances to get back there. Thursday the 7th the opportunity came and I went straight from work. The difference from the weekend was that as the clock struck 4, the temp said 19degrees, and I thought it was probably pointless. And it would have been had I gotten straight on, but by the time I had dropped stuff off, fannied around and warmed up, the problem was in shade and it looked like I could be about to do it. Slowly I increased my high point, until I actually latched the dish which signals the end of the hard climbing - blimey! was this it! I've done it, just adj..whoa! bang - on the mats. "Dammit! I'm not gonna do it!" back around I go, and there are bad goes, ok goes and I even think about leaving - then have another good go, but none good enough. Still - quite happy that I am pretty close I pack up and head off as night falls.

And the problem then was that it went red hot. I did go back on Saturday the 9th, but it was redders and there was no point. And in fact, I shouldnt have done, as it bit me and I came away with splits. The thing is, I knew it was daft, but I knew I could do it, and that I needed just one go, so I thought that perhaps I could still pull it off. And it did nearly happen, but nearly isnt enough and I went home empty handed. That was the day of Adam's wedding. Went to that in the evening with Dave and Ned and had fun. Sunday out on bike in the sunshine.

The next two weeks saw the calling of the lime, and the start of tor season (and at times, it felt like it was already too hot). Ned and I went to get on Mecca but got sidetracked with Culloden. Man, that is so doable. The pocket was a bit wet, but I worked out a probably dubious sequence, but which works for me (if interested, this is from rh in pocket, left to crimp, then right toe out right, rock up to rat crimp rh, then flag and stab left to tooth thing, right up to wedgy fingerlock and left outside edge in jug pocket. Jump to jug). But the split from the week before reopened and that was the end of that. I honestly think I could have done it but for that. Damn sharp rat crimps.

Then I got back on Mecca, and to be honest - I feel good on it. On the 22nd I got into the groove with one hand twice, only I didnt manage to clip. Think it was a bit hot and I was fighting, didn't catch the horn right and had to yard for the draw rather than clip it. Pretty poor really, I should have gotten both hands into the groove, sorted it out, then clipped. Its fine though, if I get there when its cooler, or i havent got taped splits I think i will be ok. My plan is to get into the groove, then start from bottom of the groove to the top - which is a link i have done before, then into the groove - top, then full redpoints.

Finally, Saturday 23rd me and the monster go to Mallorca for a week. Lovely. We stayed at Deia which is up in the mountains and just wonderful. Very different to the mallorca you see on club reps - not a paunchy burnt englishman in a football shirt in sight (except me of course, but I dont have a football shirt). Loads of road bikers everywhere in the mountains - its obviously the time to go. Anyway, we have two full day walks which are brilliant, and even a day investigating the DWS potential. Problem is, as everyone predicted - that the sea is too cold. Much too cold. You jump in and hyperventilate, claw your way back onto dry land and shiver, cramped in a ball until the sun warms your cockles. So, the iterative process of progressively jumping in from a bit higher and higher doesnt get to happen, and I am wracked with terror! We investigate Cala Barques, which is incredible. The Stu little 8a looks amazing, but I am too scared to even set off (it starts from a ledge at about 5 metres). I do a 6c about 5 times but am so overgripping everything that I get really pumped. We look at Sa Nau as well, but its forbidding and I dont want to even go in!

So, its a post of irons in fires. Back on Mecca - keen for that, feels like I have a lot to do though, but I think I am getting the concept of being able to do it. Culloden I would like to get back to, and I hope that would go quickly (kiss of death) and then theres Dark Art. But, will it be too hot from now on I wonder! Hope not.