The Blog of Dob

Swizzers 2012

2012-01-31T10:08:00.001Z

Switzerland. The land of soft grades and the easy 8a? I don't think so. Things get done in switzerland not because they're soft, but because they're basic, and because basic climbing you can replicate indoors. And the weather is better. It doesn't mean the grades are soft, just that you're successfully able to precondition yourself to be able to do the climbs there. Of course, as with any area there are sandbags, and there are soft touches. Could this be the set up for me justifying a big holiday trophy I've bought back? I wish! more like it's I want to feel better about not doing anything!

You watch the videos on the internet of people doing hard things, and they make them look so easy. You forget that the people in these videos are the international wads, they are eight stone, 6ft4 and have practically unlimited time reserves. Expecting yourself to pull out similar performances on a week long trip is expecting a lot. I was laboring under the pressure of matching the last trip. Two 8a's, each in a session - surely 8a+ would be possible with a bit of grit (and cherry picking) and determination?

Me, Ben Pritchard, James Foley. Switzerland. One week, a whole host of hard things to do. I'd been dedicated, made sacrifices and felt strong on the board. My pre trip board project had gone down, the signs were good. We get up ludicrously early to catch a plane. Spend that afternoon having a potter around to get moving and shake off the fog of travel.

Next day we go up to Cresciano again to meet the other team (Sam, Lu, Rubber Chicken and the illegal immigrant). The first sign of a problem is that my wood soft skin feels sore on the warm ups. Bendy gets on La Pelle and does a couple of really good links. It looks like he could do this classic problem. We have a go on Franks, and I quickly realise its not something I could easily do ever. James looks really good on it, getting his heel in and coming off matching. Then we go up to Stinky Pete, which is one of the lines of Cresciano. Its high and with a bad landing, so you need a team to do it, and finally I'm in one. Three of us keep getting up there, but bailing out before the top. It takes a 14 yr old tree frog to show us the way, but noone else summits. An italian midget in a muscle vest turns up and I get told off for grooming him. We go to la proue and I make a try. These holds are jugs. Honestly - they are. But that foothold is shit. Its like a quarter of a marble. I manage to take my weight for a millisecond but cannot move. We go to La Boule and those two do la boulette, Foley with an alarming flourish on the rounded top out, uttering the immortal words 'I'm sketching' as he scrabbles for purchase.

The top thing on my list was the Freak Brothers. And on paper this one should have suited. I reached into the crimp and it felt good, I was suprised. The problems I had been setting on the boards had smaller holds than this, but it wasnt linear, it wasnt a simple function of finger strength, it was a wierd body position thing. I experimented about with it for a bit but my skin hurt and I didn't really get very far. Shit. I really wanted to do this one. I think its a great looking problem and it should have been up my street. Hmm. Talking of good looking problems - boogalagga! wow.

Next day we go to Brione. James is to get on Fake Pamplemousse, I want to try ganymede takeover, and then we plan to explore some of the bits we havent been to before. I feel whalloped. Ganymede feels more basic than Freak Brothers but everything hurts and I dont get too far. James makes progress on the pamplemousse. Bendy and I rest. We go to Molunk, past the cellar door. Molunk looks brilliant. I'd deliberately left my boots in the car, but it looks so good I run down to get them. Leaving James to work out the sequence. I end up doing it in the dark illuminated by my friends headtorches, and with a madmans 8b sequence.

Bendy had rested completely at Brione. And I needed to rest today (wednesday). He had looked so good on La Pelle, that was what he wanted to do. A lazy start to let it get out of the sun, then we started him off at Hannibal Lecter. Very quickly he was getting to the lip, but didnt feel it was coming quick enough but that he was warm, so we went over to the main event. He seemed to struggle to get going, but eventually put in some really good links - I know he still felt there was quite a lot to do. We head over to la nave va to finish.

Somewhat rejuvenated, i return to Freak brothers on Thursday. I feel good and immeadiately the difference is obvious. I get closer, but am some way off the pace still, and eventually realise am going backwards and stop. Dammit! We go to find Dr Crimps and Bendy and I manage to scratch our way up razor blades. Hideous. Now we drive back to Cresc, and this time me and James go to Hannibal Lecter. I manage to session flash it, and James gets really close. Bendy makes another try on La Pelle, but is more tired than he realised, and despite eventually battling through to put in some good links, it doesnt come together. I had a half baked idea about trying the direct, but its fully 8a+ in a move, so I stop.

We spend the final day up at Brione again. I get closer to Ganymede, but skin is really hurty, and despite doing some more moves, I cant bear the pain and give up. Bendy suddenly has a Pamplemousse epiphany and works out how to do the first move. He's getting up there on every go, and even gets his left over the top at one point. Sadly he doesnt finish it and comes away empty handed. James makes good progress, has more goes than jim, but misses out as well. We go to find General Disarray and marilyn Monroe. That hold on Disarray is brilliant. What a nice piece of rock. The spoog is out in full force and we cant remember what Sam said to do. Make progress, but a confusing sequence and bad conditions stop play. Finish the day, and the trip up at Molunk where I realise my sequence from the other day is a very hard way of doing it, and manage to find an easier method. James and Bendy get close but dont do. We walk out broken and ready to be going home the next day.

So, lessons learnt : Its good to be feeling strong on the board, but you also need to be outdoors rock climbing to toughen your skin and deaden your finger nerves. Pick your battles - get on them early in a trip. If you can't at first then either use will power and don't do anything, or pick something else you can get on. Know when to stop and when not to try.

Be realistic about what you can honestly expect to achieve in a weeks holiday. Remember you're not an 8st professional climber and set your goals appropriately. Or, set stretching ones, but dont get down about it when you dont achieve them. Most of all, remember that its just climbing and that you are on holiday. Have fun with your mates. Take the piss, get drunk, eat party food - life's too short!

90's computer games

2012-01-16T10:56:00.001Z

I remember when I first met him. It was at the Edge comp, and he was 16. I burnt him off. I managed to keep doing so for perhaps as much as a year after that. But he pushed me. I had to try really hard to keep in front, and then suddenly, he was ahead. We were friends by then though, and I considered him my protege. I was pleased, and I bathed in the reflected glory that he brought back. All he had to do was accompany me to the nineties hotspots which I remained obsessed with, and try to stay awake on belay duty.

I am of course talking about Leicester's answer to Fred Dibnah - the three times British Champ Nedwin Van Der Freewilly. The point of this misty eyed reverie was that he seems to have made another leap forwards of late. He's gone from being good to in another ballpark good. I'm psyched for him. He flashed who needs ready brek on Saturday, and Tetris, then took a few goes to do Columns. I was impressed. Then he nearly did that thing of Dan's round the corner. All this whilst injured!

Ned's always maintained that he is a behemoth in the weight stakes, and he certainly is heavier than some of the stick thin teenagers we see flinging themselves between crimps, but that's because he's a solid clod of milky white muscle. I've gone really hefty since xmas, and seemingly no amount of being good is helping. That said, I am being good, but I could be better. Life's too short to deny yourself everything, but with Switzerland at the end of the week, I could just do with dropping a few pounds. Wonder how heavy i was last year? it doesn't say on the blog either.

Anyway, this all struck me after meeting Ned and Ben Thompson (ripped face) at Tetris along with just about everyone else in the western world. With Mushin wet it was a bit mobbed. Although a cold day, the sun was out and it felt greasy. Didn't stop Ned flashing it though, and Ben doing it and Columns too. Watching Neddy on Columns made me appreciate how good he's gone. I don't think he comprehends the many ways you can fail which I can think of. I mean, I look at something and think that looks hard, I can't comprehend of how to do this bit or that bit or whatever, whereas I think he looks at things and thinks - that looks ok, and can just do it. Little shit. This was how it was with me and the alphane moon last year - I'd watched the videos, knew I could pull on those holds, and so I approached it thinking I could do it. And do it i did. Self Belief is an under rated component in success. I'm not saying that if you believe you can do anything you can do it, just that approach things with winning in mind, and if they are realistic you WILL succeed.

Tetris is a good looking rock climb. Would benefit from being overcast though. I do it in the full sun, but compared to going back on it to showboat later on - it feels a different kettle of fish when the sun has set. And what a sunset! I have no concept of how to do Columns. I just can't compute the motion required.

The Dick Splinters emails - episode 2

2012-01-09T11:24:00.001Z

Dick Splinters sent me another one of his long ranty emails. I thought you might like to read it, so here's the best bits :

"I fucking love it when it rains. It means I can go on my board and PULL DOWN! Its always in condition my board. When the weather's fine, I feel obliged to go out with my 'friends' and lurch between gritstone breaks whilst my feet scrabble uselessly behind me. They're not real friends, if they were they would come and sit in the sofa behind the board and coo as I flick effortlessly between glued on matchsticks - 'oooh Dick you're the best' they'd say, as my legs scorpion kick behind me, 'gosh Dick, it looks really hard, you should be able to climb 9a now', and then I show them the first hour of my fingerboarding DVD - including the bit where I do three back two one armers holding mum's Metro Vanden Plas with my free hand...."

I've seen it - this is impressive. I haven't seen a vanden plas in that condition for some time.

"I went to that 'Climbing Works' place again. It's ok like - i mean, the two corners are, but there's this whole punter section in the middle which is baffling. What training benefit is there from slabs? who climbs slabs? Yeah, Adam Long - and look what became of him. Anyway, I saw that Chris Webb-Parsons guy there. I think he works on the desk or something - he had that vacant stare only reception will give you. I think he's got a tattoo of a manatee on his paunch or something? I'm going to get one this lunchtime. Man, that guy has a hunchback almost as pronounced as mine. I went up to him, and I said - 'Hey Parsnip - how many tens have you done?' he didn't know what I was talking about, so i said 'You know, v10's - bet you've done at least three haven't you? which ones? is it the terrace? I've done the Terrace. Have you seen my video??, is it true you had to have four goes on Deliverance?', he started trying to walk away, but I rugby tackled him and tried to pull his trousers off to see if it was true that he had bulging muscular thighs and a tattoo of Pat Butcher on his thigh. It wasn't."

I think he must have been thrown out after that, as there was some sort of commotion there the other day. Anyway, he's got community service to do, so he had to cut it off after that. And anyway, those were the good bits. The rest was just agonising about wooden crimps.

Sparkly Duds

2012-01-03T09:39:00.001Z

I got this message down my internet pipe yesterday. It's from my old mate Dick Splinters : "Yesterday I went on the board. I felt pretty strong really. I think I was probably the strongest man in a vest since Keith Bradbury did Il Partner on that telly video of Creschironico. I've got massive guns. Then I didn't acheive my potential at some esoterica outdoors and finally I went rowing. It was brilliant." Great update there from Dick. Think he is bound to have a good year.

Once was the time when there would be almost daily updates on this blogroll. But then again once was the time when it didn't rain every day. There've been opportunities of course, dalliances and odd scuffles but nothing worth writing about. Then came Xmas, and with it annual leave, everyone off together and more time for everything. I managed to get out once. Once throughout the whole break! It wasn't lack of chance, it was just wet everywhere.

On that day I had heard that the great Jon Barton was going to be at Rivelin, and I thought if I could just get to meet the great technician, maybe I could push into the upper 5's. Ed and I cracked open our autograph pads and set off. Extreme mud scene on the approach. Cheeks and beaks wet, as was the thing to the left. Nik's wall also wet (i think this looks doable! that so many capable people have failed suggests it must be harder than it looks), then we went up to Faze action which is good (didn't do it). It's all a a bit wet really. The wall won't be a bit wet. The wall will be dry - and we can have a coffee. Only got a short time - want to make the most of it. But the sky is clear, and it feels like copping out going to the wall. Perhaps we should stay? yeah, but this is the last chance before xmas, and we both want it to count. If only Jon Barton was here - he'd know what to do.

Master Kush was wet when we got there, but drying out and probably climbable if you are really good at rock climbing. If only Jon Barton were here. We mince around dancing to Shakira's She Wolf (aroooo!) before heading off on a recommendation to look at Sparks. And there he is, the technical master - poised on the mats beside a complaining Dolly. In a mere hundred and fifty goes he has dispatched the complex and brilliant Sparks with an implausible 3D sequence straight out of the climbing works (literally). The day ends and we head off on our respective christmas holidays.

Roachford Blockwrestler

2011-12-05T09:35:00.001Z

All through the Peak we cursed the Fletchers. There is no way it will be dry we agreed as the car aquaplaned down Froggat pass. Only fools would continue, but one fool had, and he insisted it was ok in the west and that roads and walls were dry. The cursing continued. As we passed the sign welcoming us to Staffordshire, it appeared there might be a chance.

Things looked green, but dryish. The deep dark crevices were no good, but exposed boulders were actually climbable. Plus, Mushin actually looked ok. Jordan and Naomi turned up, padded it out and did the problem, thus dispensing any chance of blaming conditions for the impending failure.

Good to see the Fletchers, good to be out with a full team for the first time in about a year. Biting wind at Mushin. Hard to stay warm. James does best, but that wasn't enough and none of us do it. I'm mithering to go to Tetris. James is bleating its a long way. It is, but it's worth it. Is this the best looking block of Gritstone? Jordan is there too, and has just done Columns.

I do Tetris stand thanks to wild but correct jordan beta, and then nearly do the sitter but run out of beans before elimanating all possible means of failure. Go to the winking man for a pint. Good day for the Buys.

The end of days

2011-11-22T09:21:00.000Z

I think when we last spoke I was wittering on about lovely days in beautiful weather bimbling around and actually doing stuff. The point of that post was two fold - partly to illustrate that it shouldnt all be about trying really hard, and partly because it was a lovely afternoon, and I was looking forward to the autumn/winter and it being cold. Well, it hasn't been, and it isnt.

One of the intervening weekends Foley came through and stayed. In my head it was all about getting out and having another day like that, but it rained solidly, so a lot of tea was drunk and some wood grifters pulled down at a heaving Climbing Works. Ned went to font, and despite wet and warm conditions came back with two 8B's (narcotic direct, satan) but didnt get to go on Gecko (too warm). And I even made it to the county - on my own, and admidst fog like death cloud. Needless to say, it was rubbish. Fucking Rock climbing. Bah.

Anyway, I have seen the future, and I would like to introduce you to the Dobowonderlog patent pending grade decline graph :

See that EDD? know what that means? Estimated Due Date.... Yes, thats right reader - we are pregnant! Well, I'm not but you get the picture. The graph shows the end of casual nonchalance on the 7th April, from thereafter will be a slow increase back to a max of 3b in about 2014, before a gradual slide into paunchdom thereafter.

Do we know what we are having? no. Not going to find out either. They can be wrong anyway, and she thinks it would be nice to have a suprise. I actually would quite like to know, but I dont really mind. Anyway, here is the little blighter :

To go with that, i have traded in the chavstra and bought a dad mobile :

The 7a day

2011-10-27T10:03:00.001+01:00

Dogged persistence may get you up projects, and whilst it feels great to do things you've worked hard for, its also important to have days without any prescribed agenda, days when you actually get to do some climbing and succeed without a battle. It's days like these when you remember what a fun experience climbing is, and when i find myself envying the casual punter, for whom this is the norm.

These days are those where the light is good, the shadows long and the leaves not yet mulch. Rustling around between boulders, bantering with friends and actually succeeding on things. Feels good to be good at something. Going for a pint afterwards, scranning down crisps and eyeing the pork scratchings guiltily over the bar. The stings of the shower on fresh grit rash. Sigh. Its a good feeling as you slump into the sofa, tired but happy at the end of this perfect gritstone autumn day.

People I have spoken to since seem incredulous that I could never have climbed at Rowtor, but I hadn't. Been for a walk, and been for lunch in the Druid, but never actually pulled on there. Armed with a selection of top three's from friends, I drove out to meet Dr Folog, Rupert, Sarah and mini-Rupert. The common factor in everyone's recommendation was yoghurt hypnotist, so that's where we started.

Its an amazing place, Rowtor. Carved in the late 80's by a travelling hippy commune, temporarily kettled there by angry middle class villagers. There are caves, armchairs and drainpipes all carved out of the stone. Its a cool place for a wander around if nothing else.

Yoghurt Hypnolog climbs a hanging rib beneath one such drainpipe, and whilst it climbs brilliantly, its a tiny bit elimanate as you could lurch to the drainpipe and avoid the difficulty. Can't remember the last time I actually did anything, so bouncing around excitedly having done it, I turn my attention to the off width on the right hand side. I am PWhiddy! I think to myself as I slide my leg into an overhead leg bar (bet they would have an actual phrase for such a move) and hang sans hands from it. Rupert is tired and cross, as he does all the hard bit of Yogalog and then fails on the mantle. James does the same. Baby Ru and Sarah play with leaves. I go to look at blood falls.

Collect original team and wander off to Quine, and who should peer through the undergrowth than king of the geometries himself - Ms Lisa Anderson. Actually in the Peak district, and apparently climbing! oh, how having a lady friend has tempered this once virile firebrand - once was the time when he would have been glued to the board, fingers thrust into the shallowest of mono pockets, his girth dangling limply beneath him, but not now, no. Another great problem, get close but don't actually do it, then Lee leaves us and we move to domes.

At first we have no concept of what is required, ultimately having to resort to looking at the picture in the guidebook, but that's no help, as it just has a picture of the Lord Wormsdale half way through the sitter. Eventually Rupert unlocks the sequence with what I can only describe as 'concept levitation'. I cannot compute the move at all, but eventually it yields to a wild slap. We try the sitter and conclude its very hard. The day is nearly over, we are all flagging and the dusk is drawing near. Nip to Short Sean's reachy roof, and the fatigue is clear in the honourable Mr Davies who looks beaten. We look briefly at that mantle thing which we all fail on, and finish on Blood Falls. Then the pub. Ahh the pub. Lovely. Its dark when we leave and I am late home. Great day.

Mecca Mucka

2011-10-21T16:21:00.001+01:00

Time is only wasted if you think it so. If you look hard enough there's a positive spin to be put on any situation. You can choose to bang into metaphysical obstacles and resent them for being in your way, or you can seek teaching in your blunderings, learn from them and become all powerful.

Certainly, when one is as incompetent as I, it pays to have such a positive (some would say foolhardy) outlook on life. You could look at yesterdays attempts to rock climb as another failure on the current route of my desires, you could say that you knew in your heart that whilst you were strong enough, that that wasn't the problem and that your fitness would let you down. You could say that you knew you had a split, and that that crimp would open it again, or you could look at the whole experience as being a chance to climb with someone new, to work out the cheating kneebars don't work for once and for all, and to be outside in the nature.

Me and that lanky streak of piss Barrows went to the tor. When I got there he was already warmed up, so I put my harness on to give him a belay. The constant random prattling continued right until he stepped off the ground. Then I thought he was going to fall off the low wall - oh good, i thought, inwardly. I'm on full cruise control at that point, and could probably chalk and blow there. He won't do it before me. Jolly good. In a wild lurch he latches two tips on the very end of the gaston - oooh, he's off I think, but he isnt, he bumps in to the hold and carries on. Ah well, there's no way he can continue far after that start, and he doesn't. Gets a hand to the groove, fluffs it and stops. Fair enough.

The prattling starts again, then with scant rest he sets off to the top, and rinses it. I wouldn't say it looks smooth, but who cares, he's done it in two sections with next to no rest. Its fully on for him. I'm actually quite excited. When I see these things (like when Ned does hard stuff) I find them really inspiring. Its like a reminder that it is possible to succeed. Anyway, its my go, so - all about me. I feel good, strong, its cold - best ever conditions i have been on the route, and as I get the crimp beneath the groove I feel good - I could do this today I think, I hit the horn - badly. I try to move my feet, the horn is really bad and I have to ninja footkick onto a hold which is not my hold, dammit! i try to jump my foot up but it all spings off and I'm airborne. Oh well. I look down at my hands and realise I have split an old not-quite-healed split again. In the words of Ben Moon - 'Dammmit!, i'm not gonna do it'....

The baton gets handed back to Barrows. A tense quiet hangs in the air. He sets off, makes it through the bottom a bit more convincingly and is soon facing the bottom of the groove. He slaps in to the wrong place, but it's what he meant to do, and then he rolls over to the horn - interesting. Then, quickly, he scuffs his knee into the groove and starts to shake out. Little shit! with his route fitness and tenacity, he's gonna be able to get enough back to do it! the knee comes out and goes back into the higher one, still looking good. He clips, stabs his foot on a smear and moves to the crimp - got it! nice one, then cool as you like gets set in the top egyptian and reaches over. At this point, visions of Stu's video of Rich Heap coming flying off are in my head, and he does look like he's going to, I brace myself on belay, but no - he's done it, reaches into the flake, clips the chains and doesn't even stop! no, he goes for a look at the extension first! good effort!

The kneebars. Let's talk about the cheating low life knee bars - preserve of the weak. If I could get them to work i would do. The people who tell you they are cheating are either those who have invested their time and done it a harder way not using them, or who can't get them to work. I seem to be in the latter camp, so because i cant do them, I'm saying they're cheating. But i don't mean it really. You may say that that bolt scar wasn't there when it was first climbed, and maybe it wasn't, but the edge above was, and also - the horn was a shakeout jug. Just cos you did something a hard way - doesn't mean you get extra points, or that other ways are wrong.

Ok, so - with a split finger i wasn't going to be redpointing today, but to be honest, I knew i wasn't anyway. I know I haven't got the endurance of a sea lion and I knew I wasn't going to be able to do it yesterday. I use the session, and a happy and willing belayer, to work out the knee bars. I have gotten into the groove and clipped a few times, so if I could then wack in this knee bar and milk it, well - i could be in with a chance. The first lesson is this - there's another foothold for the first kneebar. This makes it much more viable for me. And, its not the bolt scar. SO, I get the first one and am still a bit under tension - its not good by any stretch, but its also the most comfortable I have felt there yet. I step out and up to the top one. Now this is good, and I can comfortably get to the undercut pocket and the crimp. But, I can't get out. Which suggests I am still doing it wrong. I struggle on and try to work it out, but never manage to exit the groove using kneebars. Finally, to finish I have a go from the base of the groove with my old sequence, and piss it. It feels well easy. I think I just need to stick to that and face up to the fitness issue.

We talk about training. He has done lots of it. I just go on the board. He tells me something I knew really, but that I needed telling. That if your training doesn't make you feel pumped like you do on your project, then its not the right training for your project. There are lots of different types of pump, and I haven't managed to replicate the powered out mecca feeling indoors yet. But, i will. Question is - have i time before it craps out?

Realisations

2011-10-18T09:12:00.001+01:00

The problem with routes is that you get weak doing them. The problem with climbing boulders is that you loose fitness doing them. The problem with having a multitude of conflicting goals and aspirations is that you want everything at once - and you can't have it.

Ah but you can - you just need time, inclination and propensity for hard work. The more immeadiate problem is the lack of people willing to still go bolt clipping. I've been wanting to get back to Cheedale, but news of hold breakage and potential wetness, plus it not being my primary objective have led to the realisation that it will all still be there next year, and that those rare moments where someone can be coerced into bolt clipping should now be focussed on Mecca until it really is undeniably shitstone season.

I have to do Mecca before swamp donkey and before dylan gets back.

However, with noone keen - I went back to Anston at the weekend, and the difference in my ability between a hot day at the start of summer and now was apparent. This, whilst it shouldn't have been, was something of a revelation. I thought I had been climbing allright. Not brilliant, but allright - certainly I thought I had done ok on the comp wall of late, so why doesn't it transmute - and that, dear reader - is the realisation. The comp wall, whilst fun, is about making big moves on reasonable holds. Its about body strength, and whilst that's what you need for comps, it isn't for outdoor rock boulderising. The board is.

One person who seems to have leapt forwards is my celebrity belayer. There was once a time where I used to burn him off (happy days), then the next year we were about equal, then forever after he was ahead. At first a little, and now a lot. By god he is going well at the moment - there must be something in that moo moo shed. Ah well, surely I can bask in reflected glory as his training svengali agent and manager.

Talking of celebrities, there was a rich vein of them at the Pritchard/Van der Meulen wedding a couple of weeks ago. Doyle and I were beside ourselves that we would be in the same room as Ben and Jerry, but the actual overlap was just 20 minutes, and we failed to sieze the photo opportunity. Ever the stalker of the visiting wad, I have since made it my business to foist myself upon visiting wads Alex Puccio and Chris Webb Parsons, both of whom seem very nice.

The coaching scam

2011-10-14T13:05:00.001+01:00

I know a little bit about hearts - there's more than one chamber, and some ventricle things, and even something called an 'Aorta'. So, I think i shall open a heart surgery shop. You can pop in at any time of day or night, and I shall minister to you with an array of tools appropriated from the kitchen. Roll up, roll up! Get your cut price heart surgery here!

Don't think I should expect too many customers do you? It seems that if you do some hard stuff (or say you have) then you can set up a cosy little coaching business and earn upwards of £50 an hour to pass on your wisdom. Hang on, Hang on, let's play that back again, but ignoring the bit about lying, because that's another discussion entirely - I do some hard climbs, I'm a pretty good climber - well done me. I train myself to do them through endless hours on the board, campusing or whatever. Jolly good, SO, I must know a bit about training right? Not necessarily, no. You know what got YOU where YOU are and what made you able to do those climbs, but this doesn't mean you have studied sports science, understand physiology and can tailor training to another person. For the same reason copying training from PersonA wont make PersonB fit and strong.

Its quite a dangerous precedent to set saying that anyone can deliver coaching, I mean - what about liability - could it be argued that bad coaching could be responsible for injuring a coachee? A coach doesnt have to be an 8B+ megawad, success alone does not a good climber make - over the years there have been many examples of people doing hard things through sheer bloody mindedness, and this whilst in some ways admirable does not a good climber make them. What I am saying, and what I want you to do potential coachee is look beyond first appearances and really think about who you are having coach you and understand why you think they will be able to help you be better than you are now.

Just like all doctors dont need to be rippling adonis', so your coach doesnt need to have done harder climbs than you, but question what it is they can give you - why are they going to be able to help you be a better climber? In my head coaching should either come from someone who climbs beautifully and can explain themselves (i.e. is articulate), or who has studied and is going to help you build method into your training.

Eyeball Paul

2011-09-29T10:27:00.000+01:00

The weather was dank, and it was nothing short of madness to go to the Tor, but with Dylan desperate to be like Basher and get Mecca done before his holiday, off we tootled, bright and early - making the most of the moist conditions. Time brought with it better conditions, but time we didnt have. We had to climb there and then. Needless to say, we were both bobbins. No new links, no progress (other than backwards).

Then she and I went on holiday. We had decided to drive to the south of France. The reason for the mega drive was that it meant we (I) could take surfboards. I'd planned to stop half way, which is roughly Font, so we got the chance to check out the Andy Jennings mega gite - the House. Its good. Got loads of potential, but also would cost loads of money to realise it fully. Did climb for about 30 minutes at Isatis. Saw squiff in the car park, he didn't see us, mainly because I ran off in the other direction to avoid saying hello. The house (as the andy jennings thing is called) is brilliant. Highly recommended.

Here's a wee pic of fontainebleau palace with the moon over it on the way down :

The bit getting to font was by far the worst bit. The roads around Paris are predictably busy. When we got south it was quite a different proposition. Dull, efficient, costly French autoroute. This part of the journey took 7 hours. Nothing to report - 'cept we saw a Lotus Evora :

Found cap de l'homy easily, and it far surpassed our excpectations. Picture a massive pine forest that stretches for miles in every direction until it meets a line of sand dunes and then the beach. Cap de l'homy sits just inside the forest on the edge of the dunes. To the beach was perhaps 300 metres. I thought that a municipal campsite would be a bit shit - as a council owned facility in the UK surely would? so, we were suprised and delighted at how clean, efficient and well run things seemed to be. Nice toilets (for a campsite), good showers, and most of all - amazing location. We hadn't taken a tent, instead taking the option to rent a canvas bungalow thing. Think like a little chalet but made of stretched canvas. There was a kitchenette area, all crockery and a little hob provided, beds for 5, bedding - everything you would need, and perfect to avoid having to travel with camping gear. The only thing it could have benefitted from was running water. You could fly drive here and it would be fine. If you came in season you would even be able to hire boards, so perhaps thats an option for next time.

Of course, the first thing I wanted to do was to check the beach. Incredible. It runs for something like 200 km from biarritz at the bottom up to the gironde at bordeaux. And, where you join it at cap de, you can see no signs of development - theres no high rise buildings, its just forest and then miles and miles of beach. Brilliant. We were tired and hungry and there was this terrifying, body smashing shore break scene in front of our eyes. Normally theres a flat fun bit with kids in it next to the beach, but not here - here, the sea rears up into an angry six foot monster inches from the shore! here is a picture not showing that :

Waves are generated from the action of a storm out at sea. The wind across the surface of the water starts a wave, which if it has space to travel before it comes ashore organises itself and becomes something called groundswell. In a sea without much room for this to happen (such as the North sea) this doesn't have time to happen, and what you are surfing on is probably windsea. I.e. the wind has created teh waves where you are surfing them. The difference between windsea and groundswell in surfing terms is that the latter is big fat powerful organised lines marching out across the ocean, and the former can be just chop! When aforementioned swell hits the land, the sea floor forces the bottom of the wave to slow down, but the top isnt so restricted - it goes faster, which means it overtakes the top, and rides up out of the ocean - which creates the shape and peak you expect to be able to surf on. Here in france the beach is both steep and made up of this gravelly sand conglomerate which means the waves take on a hollow tube shape - and pack a mean punch.

So, we have a problem. To get to the waves you want to be in you have to get past the crushing jaws of the shorebreak. The technique seemed to be to pick the biggest, gnarliest bit, get as close to it as you dared, and wait for it to detonate right in front of you, then dive over the back and hope to be sucked out beyond it! However, you also had to paddle. To rely only on the undercurrent was to be sucked into the death zone! This meant you would get into a loop where it would suck you into the worst possible place to be, knock your feet from under you and then explode on your head!

Anyway, I eventually do get out to the waves out the back but wherever you paddle to they move away from! or thats how it felt. And, there's this massive cross shore drift. So, sitting on your board with your view fixed on something on the land you move laterally quite fast. Speaking to Gav about this when I got back, he explained he would walk up the beach against the direction of the drift (north), paddle out, catch a few as he went and then go back in and repeat. This was sort of what went on, but to be honest it was quite a lot of hard work, and I have ridden better waves at Scarborough!

For the next three days I surfed and surfed until my triceps and back felt like I had been trapped in Tom Randall's cellar with Pete Whittaker and an array of rubberware. I was almost pleased when it went windy and rubbish. We went to Hossegor and Biarritz one day which was nice. Rained unfortunately, so didn't wander as much as we might have done. Talking about Scarborough - Biarritz is a bit like a posh Scarborough. I.e. its got a faded grandeur thing going on.

The next day the weather is as bad and we go to San Sebastian which is just over the border in Spain. Lovely. We really really liked it here. Normal sort of town stuff then a really cool network of amazing medieval buildings the foot of which are all tapas shops. Only, being the Basque country its called pintxos. Everything is out on the counters, so you can see what there is and pick what you like the look of, which is handy because they speak basque, which is sort of spanish, but with more x's. Monday and its still shit at sea, we do a bit more touring about, buy a hammock and loaf around. At least the sun is starting to come out (just accompanied by nuclear wind).

Tuesday and the surf is back in business. I run to the sea first thing and have a look - looks good, so I go and get suited up. Decide to ride the mini mal, as its not big, and this board means I can ride it on anything, and as surfing hasnt so far been very successful on this trip I feel like I would like to actually do something. Get a couple of ok rides, its 10am and I think I will go in and walk up the beach (see earlier drift thing). Speak to a french couple on the beach, and then pick a flattish spot to get in the water. Get back out and get an ok ride. Pleased with myself I start paddling back out. NOw, I dont really know how this next bit happened. Not sure whether I was on the way out, or had caught a ride and pitched into the water or something, but I end up in the drink and not on my surfboard. I am swimming back towards it (I think), then it gets lifted up and flung tail first at my head. The fin at the back of the board goes right into my left eye socket. I don't know this, but that's whats happened as will become obvious. All I know is that my eye doesn't work and that it hit me hard. I know I have to get in quickly. I want to know if I can see, and as I take my hand away from my face there's blood on it. I can't see if that's all there is, and I am in the water, so perhaps its been washed away - but there's not much blood and I am hopeful that's a good sign. Eyesight is foggy on that side, perhaps its just watering or something? god, I hope so. Things feel wierd, and the paddle back to shore feels epic. I get in, retrieve my flip flops and start walking out. I feel quite sick. See the French couple again and show them. Although they dont speak english, I hope to be able to gauge how bad it is by their reaction. They don't help, as she nearly faints, and he seems to think I should find a doctor.

I make it back to the tent and zip open the door. The honey monster is in the bedroom and I say 'Could you come and have a look at something for me?' then she sees it and is like 'Oh Shit!' etc etc. First mistake - we go local doctor. He can't see us until 1400. He says go straight to hospital. We do that and get xrayed, cleaned up and generally inspected. All of this takes about three hours. We are thoroughly miserable. And, as noone speaks english, and we dont speak French theres a lot of gesticulating going on to make understood. But, staff are very nice, facilities seem very good. We get told we have to come back tomorrow to see the surgeon and that I will be having an operation. I assume that this is just getting lost in translation, that they dont mean operation and surgeon, but doctor and stitches.

They didn't. They meant operation, they meant surgeon, and they meant operating theatre. 0830 the next day and I am shitting my pants. First I meet the surgeon. He does eye exam. You know when they are going through the motions and you cant tell whether its good or bad? then when theres a lot of interest and focus on something specific? well thats what happened. He puts some drops in to dilate the pupil and sends a nurse back with more of the same every 15 minutes for the next two hours. I have one massive eye, one normal one. I can see through it, but it hurts and keeps watering. He comes back and finishes the eye exam and says 'I sink you are verry lucky guy', and explains I should make a full recovery - there will be no long lasting effect, and that he needs to do some stitches, which he will do in theatre because he wants everything to be very clean. I think that sounds reasonable and am delighted that things are going to be ok. I feel pleased to have had it all checked by the top dude and know that its gonna be allright.

Now I get anaesthetic drops in my poor suffering eyeball. A very slow hour passes and my tension levels are high. I get taken down to theatre, made to put on the paper pyjamas and then lead in. Its a proper operating theatre. I lie down. Its cold. I am shaking. He says not to be nervous and that it will take no more than 30 minutes. He straps my head to the table, and tells me not to move. At this point he says 'So, you know you 'av zee two er... ow you say? wounds? oui?' oh? say I, 'yesss, one in zee eyelid, one in zee errr, conjunctiva? ow you say, errr - eyeball?' WHOA! no, i didnt know that! i knew I needed stitches in my eyelid, and thats what I though we were doing, but this eyeball business is news to me. Oh well i think. Committed now, and in the best hands. He seems to know what he's doing. An emotive thing your vision though eh? Especially having experienced 24 hours of 50% reduction and didnt like it. In for a penny in for a pound I say and he looks back blankly. THen starts ze work.

He explains that of the whole procedure, that the injections and the clamping of the eyelid will be painful and wierd respectively, and they are and it is. Then he places two stitches in my eyeball, and four in my eyelid. The ones in the eyeball are suprisingly painless. The actual prep is worse than the doing. He tells me to stare at his microscope light which, being terrified, I am glad of something to focus on. Having stitches in your eye is like watching someone stitching on a piece of glass just above your eye. It doesnt hurt or feel wierd or anything, but I suppose thats the anaesthetic. Anyway, the whole thing is over mercifully quickly, and i could hug him for saying I am gonna be fine and for fixing me up. We drive back to the campsite and rest the rest of the day in the sunshine. I feel fine, just a bit shaky and have only one eye. I can take the bandage off the next day though.

I must say - props to the wife for remaining calm throughout, and also for picking up the driving around to and from the hospital. She'd never driven on the continent and was a bit worried about it, but as she said after about a mile - 'if you know how to drive its actually very easy'! and of course, for looking after me during and after. Thank god for the honey monster.

SO, a day later, and the recovery rate is fast. I am feeling exponentially better and I take control of the driving back to font. This is a long day, but we make good time, and I even get to climb at Isatis and burn some Germans off - with a terminator eye! We eat at Pizza Mimi, and the next day I drive us to the eurotunnel. IT all goes well, but when we get back to blighty we are sick of being in the car and the remaining 5 hours home feels slightly desperate.

its been a good trip, even inspite of the little mishap, and yes - i will be surfing again. What happened here was a really wierd freak accident. Noone I have spoken to has ever heard of anything like this happening to anyone else, and I am just glad that I can still see!

A dog ate my parkin

2011-09-09T08:27:00.001+01:00

You wouldn't have thought the Cornice would still be dry, not after all that rain? but it was. Bone dry. Roy nearly did Bricktop, getting right up to the top but being unable to clip and that being his best go. I nearly did Nemesis, getting further than before, but still wilting just before the jugs. Had a little work of the 'man's way' and couldn't make it work (there's a lesson there perhaps), but pleased to be pretty close.

Also got to try with the official 5.10 kneepad. This is dynamite. Rather superior to the butchered shoe I was using previously, although I never found the hands off rest at the start of nemesis.

A massive brown dog wolfed my parkin. It's owner was mortified, but I was quite taken with the furtive nature of the beast, who, in fairness - looked no stranger to food theft. His owner avoidance technique was second to none. Besides, there's another lesson there - Parkin does not get one to the top of Nemesis. Perhaps lettuce does?

Tomorrow morning would be the next chance to get back there, but it's also Dylan's last day in the Peak for 8 months, so he has deciding vote, and he votes for Mecca!

Aloof Roof

2011-09-05T10:58:00.001+01:00

To achieve one's goals, one must be prepared to stick to ones guns when all about one people are channel surfing. However, whilst a certain amount of doggedness is an asset, too much is stubborness. I thought I could do roof warrior in another session, and so I was scratching around for chances to get back to it. Noone could be persuaded on Saturday the 27th, and this is when having more than one thing on the go pays dividends. I didnt want to, but back to the tor I went and got on Mecca. I felt fat, weak and way off the pace. I think I knew this was going to happen, and that's why I hadn't wanted to go. Sulked off home at lunchtime.

Magic Seaguess predicted that the conditions on the East coast would be favorable. Everyone else had gone on the sunday and monday and the reports came back of amazing sessions, overhead barrels and charging reef breaks. Tuesday looked even better. The Monday team had had to seek shelter, but by Tuesday PM it looked like the wind died out and favorably changed direction. Ed had just got back from a break to Thailand, where he had discovered God :

And the good lord said that we should ride waves.

The lord wouldn't get his wish. The first problem was that the tide was all wrong. Very big tide, and going to be high water just after we got there. Ideally it would have been low, then we could have gone to this runswick place. We went to Cayton. From the cliff it looked quite good, but as we got to the water it looked like there was a lot of white water and that as Ed put it 'a torrid paddle' awaited. And it did. Should have told a story that there were 50 people in the water, and only 2 out the back. We eventually increased the number to four, but not without some serious effort. Caught no good rides, agreed to check s.bay. Drove round in wetsuits to find the sea bouncing off the sea wall and no chance of surfing. Bobbins. Went for a cuppa and drove home hating surfing.

I got to go back to Roof Warrior that Thursday with incomprehensible Brian. Sort of felt a bit pumped from the off really. Don't know if I over-warmed up or something like that. He didn't look good on CoD either, so perhaps it was something in the air, but part of me knows it wasn't and that we were shit. So, let's analyse those errors :

This is a knee pad I made to make the route easier. It's an old Pink Anasazi with the top butchered so you can strap it to your leg. I showed Ned the above picture and he said the problem with such devices is that they are ok for bouldering because there isn't that much leg waggling before you need to use the pad, but with routes it could well move. And move it did. At the first knee bar it worked, sort of, but didn't acheive its goal - the position felt no easier, so it was kind of pointless. Then it moved between the kneebars and actually caused the next one - which should be a rest, to feel terrifying. Balls.

Saturday morning came and with it a chance to drag another willing victim down the dale. Things just felt better. I felt better, today was surely the day. I had eschewed the kneepad, and gone back to the comfy floppy clown shoe rock boots. For a millisecond, on the 'putting the clips in' go, I thought like a hero I was actually going to be able to do it putting the clips in! Quickly realisation dawned and i stopped that attempt. But, I felt like I'd climbed it well, that I remembered all the cheating tricks and that I was actually going to do it. Had a really good rest whilst Ed had a burn. Then it came time to tie on again.

I rinsed up the lower wall, punching through the sequence to a poor rest in the roof. CLip. Quick couple of breaths, change hands and stand around a bit, then reach back through the roof. I clamp my feet around the undercut and take my right hand off. This is a wierd move. I pivot out and stuff my hand into the sharp jug to move up to the first kneebar. I remember the nuances and make the next clip. Without stopping I put the top thighbar in and clip again.

Conciously I slow my breathing down, changing hands and shaking out trying as best I can to recover enough for the redpoint crux. Look round, and have a quick chat with Ed, then its time to go, and I throw myself at the edge above. It's an ok hold, and if it was on the bouldering wall you'd be able to do a one armer on it, but up there, after all that - it's not what you need. I shuffle along it, remember my foot sequence, toeing down on a blackened smear and changing my focus to the undercut above. I don't allow thought, stoppage or doubt, instead thrusting my hand upwards into the undercut - got it! Yesss! match in and snatch a few ragged breaths. I know I haven't got much left, and that I need to be quick. There's a good finger jug coming up, and I scuttle quickly up to it, hoping to be able to recover. I try my best but there's not much coming back in my arms, and I know that it'll soon be counter productive. Push on!

These are good holds, but they're all a bit flat - there's nothing you can hang off your skin on, and I feel that I am slapping increasingly wildly, but thankfully, before I fall off I get the massive hooter right of the chains and clip. Get in! Ed has another go, but is still really pumped, so we tootle back off to meet James.

That evening we and a group of 18 join Dylan and Lucy at the aagrah in Sheffield for farewell drinks. Its a nice evening, but we are pretty tired by then. It rains on Sunday. James attempts dog napping :

Ed shows us his lo-fi Dyson :

And our weekend finishes with a pie :

roof mong

2011-08-24T14:07:00.001+01:00

I love the Cheedale Cornice! It's just brilliant. From descending into the leafy underworld to punching through the roof on massive jugs, it's just fab. Went back on Roof Warrior last night. I'd conceptualised what I had to do, and I had a notion that I could actually do it. What i mean is, I believed I could do it.

First go bolt to bolt putting the clips in. Cover the ground, remember where the holds are - feels ok. My concept isn't too far from reality - sometimes when I talk myself into something, when I actually try it I realise my dreams were miles away from reality.

Britain's best bum doctor asserts his place as Britain's biggest sequence mong and covers the distance in a thousand links. I have a redpoint. Get up to the roof, clip from a strange position, but carry on - these are big holds. The kneebars are good but never quite right. They're not quite rests, but they sort of could be, or so it feels. Because they're never quite right, you think there's value in messing with them, when actually it may have been prudent just to race through. On reflection, I think you have make the best of what you get and try and get something back. At least it doesn't hurt. I feel like I'm slipping out of the kneebar clips, but manage to do them, and then I'm on the headwall, hands on the crimp wondering how it could feel so piss in isolation but so scary now, pumped and having to boldly press on above the bolts. I wimp out, showting what will no doubt be my epitaph - 'take'.

Meanwhile the big numbers are going down. The cornice scene is a strong one, with good energy and impressive feats all round. Neil Mawson makes short work of Bob's Techno Prisoners (although he says it took a number of sessions), Paul does Devonshire Arms, and Gus gets up Jug Jockey. We are lucky, living in sheffield, to have this place on our doorstep.

In the middle section - secteur Fail, everyone's getting up there but not up there enough. My next go I get to the same place, matched on the crimp, and starting to rock up to the undercut. I wimp out again. Brian employs a wild sequence to not do Cry of Despair, and James forgets his own name. A foundry routes hero turns up in 80's shorts and runs up Roof Warrior, literally sprints through to the roof, has a breath and then busts out onto the headwall, looks good - surely he's gonna do it, but no, he stabs into the undercut but shoots off the edge of it and is airborne. Interesting, totally different sequence. Discussion follows about the relative merits of each, and we both decide to ignore the other (as both look close as we are).

Brian leaps gazelle like between the holds on his 8b variant of COD. He tries hard but comes away empty handed, as do we all. I can't wait to get back on Roof log. It's brilliant. The secret is to breath, rest and calm down in the top knee bar. I felt like as the evening went on I got more efficient, and that if I manage to get back there soon then I think I should do it. Also, I need to do it early in a session. Or get fitter.

Cave Weakling / Roof Warrior

2011-08-22T11:37:00.001+01:00

The traffic ground to a halt again. No accident, no roadworks or anything 'hard' to stop progress, just sheer weight of traffic and bad driving. As the BMW hurtled towards the bumper of the next small vehicle in its path I cowered lower in the passenger seat, embarrassed by the speed with which we advanced on our prey. Like a Panther swatting aside a spent carcass, we hurtled off again - 'You've been BMW turbo'd!' exclaimed the driver to the blurred angry faces gesticulating at the smoking tyres of the disappearing car.

The weather was quite nice on the a55, but we could see clouds around the mountains. Inspite of them we quested onwards, and as we did things worsened from 'a bit grey' to 'lashing it down'. Went to the shop in 'beris, had a coffee with a cordial chap, and then continued to the orme. By which time it was also raining there, and a charming sea fog had drifted in to say hello. Joe and Vics were in the cave. Nice to see them, but rather a long way to catch up with two other Sheffield residents. They looked like they were doing ok, so perhaps it was allright, and certainly holds were dry but that wasnt the problem. The problem was grease, and humidity. Basically, we were shit. I didnt feel like i did more than two consecutive moves. Man, I even fell off Left wall traverse at the end. Which just goes to show that a summer of climbing with strings does not a man cave fit make. And, perhaps also that cave fitness does not cross over to anything other than the cave? I like boulderising though - its so easy.

On the Sunday we went down the Cheedale Cornice. I felt exhausted. My arms felt strained. Nemesis seemed no so much unlikely as really stupid to get on. So I didnt. I went back on Cry of Despair to showboat, but forgot all the clips and had to hang around to get some more before the crux. Such a fun route though. Then Dylan and I went on the upside down madness which is the futuristic Roof Warrior. Wow. Another wild route with some great moves. Miles off doing it, but cant wait to try again.

Cry of Dobolog

2011-08-18T09:39:00.001+01:00

It's felt a few degrees cooler recently, but thats a few degrees relative to what it was, and that still means warm. Dylan and I went back on Mecca last thursday. It felt smee. We didn't do too badly to say we haven't been on it for ages, and the idea was to keep the hand in rather than actually redpoint. I finally took the time to investigate the kneebars. Not great are they?

Then she and I bailed down to Cornwall, which was basically all about eating and drinking. There was also exercise in the form of surfing, but actually, i have had better conditions on the north east coast of late, so that wasn't brilliant. I suppose the interesting lesson from that trip was that the water is so much nicer in devon and cornwall! its blue for a start, although the beaches are busier. Much busier.

Tuesday was my birthday, 35. Jesus.

Yesterday was the first chance to climb. Although its going a bit cooler, its also rained more, and in the back of my mind is the concern that soon the cornice will be wet and with it, my chance to climb nemesis gone for another year (possibly more). So we (Dylan and I) headed down there with a loose plan of cry of despair and/or nemesis. Although actually, in my head I sort of knew it would be a bad idea to go on Nemesis - fat and weak after loads of trough, i'd only go backwards and get cross. And what better way to get back on it than going on this mega route which people kept going on about. I mean, positively raving about how good it is. Brian even said I could flash it! He must have been having those climbing dreams people were on about on the internet where amazing and fantastical things happen. He must never have actually seen me climbing! Either that or its 5b.

I knew I wasn't going to flash it. I must be one of the worlds worst flashers (!). Knowing this, and knowing that Dylan stood a good chance of beta flashing, I set off to clip it up and work out a sequence. Straight off the deck it felt like there was a tricky flick to a good hold, which on my last go of the day I finally realised you make much easier with a heel. Had we known all the little bits and nuances perhaps it would have been possible to flash it, but it doesnt matter.

I bolt to bolt the route, work out a sequence and come down to the ground. What a wild route this is! its got everything! two full hands off rests, an arse wedge and no rat crimps. Just what I needed on a first session back.

The route feels like it has three distinct sections. A vertical bottom wall to the undercut and kneebar rest, then a steeper section which contains the meat of the difficult climbing ending with an uncomfortable bit of respite in the open corner before finally a teeter up a vertical wall to the belay.

Dylan sets off on his flash go, getting to the undercut and putting the knee bar in. He doesnt look comfortable and slips off getting his feet over the overlap. I have another go, and I knew this wouldnt be a successful one, as I felt like I needed to know how the climbing felt like continuously. Bit kicking myself about this one really, as I got to the crimp past the sloper at the top but refused to slap to the pocket which signals the end of the hard climbing. Lowered off. He has another go, and it looks wild on the bottom wall, he doesnt look like he's going to do it, but he keeps going and makes it through to the corner at the top, managing to get his hands off and get it all back to romp to the finish. Nice effort.

The pressure's on, and I think I feel a bit pumped. Success is far from assured. But, its on this go where I find that heel at the start, and I skip a clip before the crux which means there are beans in reserve. Kicking myself from previous failure I dont allow any thoughts to enter my head and with a bit of panting and scraping I too am established in the uncomfortable groove at the top, wishing I could get it all back like he did. I get my breath to slow down and go for it. This next bit I have a great sequence on. Basically I wedge my arse in the crack and can almost sit astride it to rest. Again, I wait, and then finally a little wobble to the jug. Phew.

Great route though. Thoroughly enjoyed it.

Cornish pasties

2011-08-16T10:20:00.001+01:00

Couple of pictures from mini Cornish surf trip. Pretty log in terms of wave riding, very big seas but onshore wind messing things up, some really good people seemed to be able to get more out of it than me, I would take off, start to turn in and then it would close out so I'd either pull out or ride the White all the way to the beach. Bobbins. Anyway, heres one from fifteen :

Which was on the Saturday night. Lovely food, great service - I loved it. Oh, and amazing setting. It had taken 6hrs to get there though, so if we look a bit tired that's why.

Porth joke (round corner from crantock) on Sunday morning. We got in at a messy crantock after this walk.

Crantock church. Cute.

View from bedruthan steps on the way to padstein for tea.

A pal checking out the most expensive joint in town. We went to the chippy!

Bedruthan steps yesterday morning. The legend is that bedruthan - a Cornish giant, built the steps to cross the bay (like stepping stone) but was turned back by another Cornish giant (diggory). I feel a bit like a Cornish giant this morning. Back to slimming world!

The ancestral lineage of John Cooke

2011-08-09T11:25:00.001+01:00

Sunday the 31st
At best it was going to be the last chance saloon - a slightly desperate attempt to catch some waves before the normal summer flatness returned. The signs weren't perfect, but in my optimism to surf I managed to convince myself it'd be worthwhile. Sometimes my aspiration and desire affects my judgement, and this was one of those times. I drove for 4hrs to splash around for an hour and a half in a dying swell with the wrong tides and not really catch anything, other than a whiff of agricultural effluent.

However, no experience is entirely negative, and inspite of this ozone burning exercise in futility, I've learnt that there should be minimum conditions present before embarking. These, I think - are 4ft, 8seconds and light off shore winds. And the right tides for wherever you head.

Dylan and I went to the WCJ cornice on Tuesday the 2nd. Bumped into some Scottish heroes when we arrived and then realised we had no belay device! Well done. Thankfully some kind chaps had one to lend and the day wasn't lost. Ropegunned Brachiation dance for them by means of mild exchange and then got on the disillusioned Glue machine. This is a route I first looked at the day I did Yorkshire 8b. I got on it for something to do, and to avoid rumble. It was filthy and I spent an hour cleaning it, but made little difference as it was so minky. This year someone more capable has put the time in and its restored to a reasonable state (so whoever you are - nice one! bolt heads want tightening up mind). Dylan has a great session flash go, getting to the vulcan pocket from the deck but not doing the move. I keep getting there and running out of steam. Anyway, we have a nice time, noone does it and we leave as it goes dusky (now 9pm).

My throat felt a bit sore that night, and by wednesday day its razor blades and I'm uncommunicative and grumpy. Thursday and Friday are mired in snot and even on saturday I'm still flaccid. Sunday I get a short unexpected pass but noone to climb with, so I furtle off down Blackwell dale to go on Paint it black. Fully expecting to be rubbish I'm pleasantly suprised, and whilst the pressure in my sinuses makes prolonged sequences of hard moves a bit uncomfortable, I can still do a bit and manage to scrape my way up the problem (but not before a thousand skin depleting goes). Again, a fair scene of dreadlocked puy jugglers, the sound of digeridoo music fills the air and the smell of agricultural by products once again meets my nostrils. I meet a man who is not John Cooke, but could be his doppelganger, and i accuse him of such, but this is not the first time he has been so challenged, and he puts me right. Apparently he is half thai, where John Cooke is half philipino. So now you know.

Monday night, as you know - is board night. Ned was bored though, and it was a nice day. He wanted to go out, not to climb, but just to get out of the house... I saw my chance, and I leapt on its back and rutted its leg. Ned got to walk to the WCJ Cornice, and I got to get back on the Glue Machine. Although not one of the Peak's finest lines, the climbing is good and I knew I could finish it. A tick in the bag is worth two in the book. I think it feels about 7b/+ route up to and including the last clip. THen you have a tricky move into some ok holds before a lurch to the belay. My first go I'm not warmed up properly and on my second go I get it done. I strip the route and we walk back, getting home for 1930.

The honey monster was away, so I went down the wall to meet another monster. A pinching monster. One whose claimed to be injured for far too long, only to be exposed hustling his way around the comp wall after dark. Like a shark patroling the black depths he paces the mat beneath the comp wall, watching and waiting for a unsuspecting seal pup to flipper into range (leah?), then, like a black missile, jet propelled out of the shadows he hurtles towards his prey, the vice like grip clamps down and crushes the weak back into obscurity. Hurty Elbone my arse.

The day Sean bit back

2011-07-29T10:32:00.001+01:00

Often it happens that when you first get on something you do far better than you do on subsequent goes. This seems to extend to sessions as well. First day on Sean's with Ru I felt like it was gonna go down the next time I was there. The next time was last night, and I went down rather than it.

In fairness, it felt hot, airless and those holds are sharp. The problem isn't just skin when its like that - its lethargy (Copyright Davies conditions consulting, 2011). I didnt manage to do the first move again. I think it might be impossible with a taped split. Got pushed through it and did the next couple of moves - not as easy as I hoped. Did the jump to the pod a few times, exited it but never held the cut loose. Tried the campus at the end - its harder than it should be.

Thrash myself to within an inch of skin tolerance and go home defeated. This is certainly going to be rather more of a battle than i thought, although - as I write that I think - dont be so negative - you've got a big pad split which needed tape, and it was hot and sweaty.

I will finish by condemning the new guidebook for making the damn place popular. Rarely is the day when there's noone there anymore, and I don't like it! Gone are my quiet solitary afternoons pottering around the crimps, now its all wrestling dreadlocked puy jugglers, stepping over their unicycles to get to the problems. Bobbins. So nice one guidebook team, for encouraging the populous to go to places I like. Cheers.

East Coast Tramlines

2011-07-26T09:50:00.001+01:00

There was almost no chance it'd be dry. Ed had driven past on his way home on Friday night, and texted that it looked dank. Rupert and I agreed that we should at least look, as has been shown time and time again, Peak Slimestone can confound expectations - even the most practiced soothsayer can be wrong. The problem with Sean's roof is that there's not much above it to buffer incoming wetness, and the holds are entirely cracks and lines of weakess, which funnel aforementioned wetness earthwards. Whatever we found, I was excited. I was going to get to go on it on a rope and try more than the first move for the first time. Was Ned right, was the first move the hardest one?

The first move is hard. Pretty blummin' hard. There are then a flurry of ok moves, but - read : relatively ok - i.e. still not easy. And mildly worrying - although that might have been a function of it being a bit soapy. Then there's a quite hard jump to the pod, which is a jug. Getting out of the pod is the final challenge, as killing the scorpion swing is v.hard. Seriously - doing this without a rope? its bordering on stupid! there's bolts there - use em! not doing means a wild swing into the path of traffic - its just not worth it! what you gonna do? wait in the pod until there's not a lorry driving past then quickly scuttle to the jug? mental. Do it on a rope. Oh, and its sharp. We do ok, both do all the moves, both get quite psyched to go back. That was Saturday.

All week an increasing tumult of internet chatter about the east coast has been on my radar. The mega swell was coming, and in the middle of summer too. 'The biggest waves in a year' on the east, etc etc. It would have taken an inert man to resist getting the littlest bit excited about it, at least on paper. And the reason I say that is because everyone looks at Magic Seaguess and they look at swell and period. Then they get excited and rush off to the coast. What they seem to fail to notice is the wind. And the words of the shops and locals, all of whom were saying - 'yes, there will be waves, but seek shelter, cos there's also mega wind'.

The way of the world is often for the wind to be lesser in the early morning, and with that in mind I picked Zen Surf Master up at 0555. We made it to Scarborough in an hour and a half, and went straight to south bay. The sight that confronted us was that of a disorganised, gigantic, heaving steel grey sea. It looked like a good place for sea monsters and ship wrecks rather than going for a swim with a lump of plastic. It seemed the forecast was right. Up at the town end, in the lee of the harbour wall there was some semblance of order. Already a few rubber clad bodies could be seen contemplating their predicament. Further out it looked epic, dangerous even. A feverish mood ran through the car park as folk struggled into wetsuits and scuttled about waxing boards. It was my first day of proper riding on the new stick and I was nervous whether I had made a bad decision only bringing it.

We paddled around the side and out the back. Size between 4 and 5ft on the sets, some waves peeling in either direction, some closing out, you just had to pick your wave and take your chances. I looked at my watch - 0802. As I watched, the wave rolling towards me looked good, but I could see something more interesting just behind it which looked interesting - I would wait. And there it was, the first wave of the day, its face clear and unmottled, pitching up before me. I spun around and began paddling, looking back it had almost caught up, i felt the board pitch up and my speed increase, then with the zing of someone fresh out of the car POP! up I went, in the perfect place, at the top of the wave and angled away from the peak, I felt good, my board in the right place, my weight even and SLASH! down I went, skudding across the unbroken wave face, the whitewater just behind me and for a fleeting moment I was actually doing it! YYFY!

I caught a couple of other good rides, and I learnt to duck dive properly. I thought I was doing this before, but I wasn't. Its quite tiring, but very useful. Surfing is quite tiring! Out of the water just after 10, and back in the car to Sheff.

She wanted to go to tramlines, and whilst ZSM said he was going to go to bed I thought i felt ok, and that I was up for it. We got back, she and i had lunch, then walked down to endcliffe park. Nice vibe in there, nice and chilled, lay in the sun etc etc. This was ok I thought, i can cope with this - as by now I had started feeling a bit wierd. My problem was compounded by my not having slept well due to excitement - which, potentially, is the next issue I have to contend with in respect to surfing. Anyway, we ended up walking into town and meeting up with friends in the melee which was Sheffield. What an awesome event! Totally free, totally random bands but amazing atmosphere in town. However, I wasnt in the right headspace, and I made us leave by about 1900. She wasnt impressed. Very very tired. Sorry!

Wee Eddie McTavish

2011-07-22T09:28:00.001+01:00

Ever since I started learning to surf I have wanted to go with Edlog. Apparently he knows how to stand on floating hunk of fibreglass, and I wanted to leech his skillZ. However, at every turn my plans were foiled, and I only ever saw evidence of his proficiency with Fybogel.

Finally it happened. After 13 months our wave riding paths crossed and I got to paddle out with the man with the vice like grip. Man, he was rubbish! he couldn't even sit on his board in the line up! TEEE HEEE! This of course, is not true. Like a seal Ed cut through the waves to the calmer water out back whilst I splashed around like a flailing sea bass the waves crashing on my head, threatening to sink me and my fibreglass barge. Soon I was beside him, contemplatatively surveying the scene, and assessing waves for rideability.

The first problem I have with surfing is that I get too excited. I paddle out, sit there for a bit, see a half decent wave, and because I want a ride I go for it, when neither it or I are ready. Which ultimately is a great way to burn calories, but not such a great strategy to threatening Kelly Slater (did you know he was both in Baywatch and went out with Pammy for a bit? fascinating). Its easier for me to chill my boots with someone else there, and we had quite a good short session.

It was interesting to see how conditions changed with the tide. We were there on the falling tide (I think) and the shape of the wave was very different from when I went with Zen surf master a couple of weeks ago - less dumpy and less closing out. It seemed that as it started to change that it became more dumpy again? so perhaps Cayton on the push is like that?

I got on quite well, getting a couple of good clean water rides, but there were also lo-lights, however - these were funny. At one point I was paddling and nearing being out the back again, when I became aware that both Edlog and another gentleman were paddling for the wave I was at the bottom of, 4ft above me, pointy surfboards pointing straight towards my head and about to carve me into fish fodder with their fins. Thankfully they both aborted and I haven't been minced (sorry guys). The other amusing error was my seeing a wave, paddling for it, but it suddenly advancing its stage of progression and me being in the dump zone rather than on the slope. I did the yelp of a small child.

The other lesson of the day was that Saltburn is easier to get to than Cayton/Scarborough. Although geographically further, roads are better and it takes less time to get back from. Finally, before we move on from surfing - there's a mega swell about on the north east coast this weekend. However, sadly, its accompanied by mega wind too. South bay could be where its at.

Last week I made Ned come down Cheesedale for me to do Nemesis. Warmed up well, route looked dry, all the signs were good. First go I bolt to bolted, putting the clips in. Came down, rest etc, all looking good. First redpoint I rinsed past the hard bit. And I mean rinsed - it felt easy. I knew this was the go, I was going to do it! Got to the flipping jug that signals the end of the hard bit, tried to clip, fumbled it, droppped the rope - then MONO'd the draw in desperation! As the laughter went up from below I thought I was gonna have to pull on it, but some sort of wild dynamic quickdraw grabbing ensued and I lowered off. Few more attempts getting here, but basically had put all my beans into that go and none was as good. Pretty cool route Nemesis. Would love to get it done this summer.

Finally, on the way home Ned was kind enough to show me the numbers on Sean's roof. Man, what have I been doing? If I want to climb 8b+ this is where I should be! not questing up power endurance routes on jugs! crimping in a roof - thats where its at! I am actually quite enthused about getting back to this one. Anyone fancy it?

Skin management

2011-07-14T09:45:00.001+01:00

A thorny issue. Skin management should be quite simple, but it seems very easy to get wrong, and when it has been mismanaged can set you back weeks,
or possibly longer. As you meet other climbers you will notice varying
levels of exellence regards managing skin condition, from the non existant
(andi_e and squiff) to the expert (jon fullwood). The basic rules are simple
:

1. Splits - sand them till smooth. Grit your teeth, deal with the pain
and get rid of the burr.
2. Dont stop sanding them after the first time - the regrown skin needs
to keep being sanded or else you get a thick hard area, possibly with a
further impurity which will split again.
3. Sand your fingers down after the shower when you are hot and wet.
4. Always have some sand paper in your chalk bag. Aluminium oxide paper
seems pretty good.
5. Stop climbing before you put a tip through. To stop now is to be able
to climb again in a couple of days, to hole a tip is to be out of action for
longer.
6. After sanding moisturise.
7. After climbing, inspect, sand, moisturise
8. If you go in the sea - moisturise.
9. Even if its nearly healed, climb with tape covering the split. You can
remove it for one redpoint, but this is a high risk strategy.
10. Always tape a clean finger.

Your skin type may change the number of days, and the amount of time and
quantity of moisturiser you will use but the principles are the same.

In summer I get splits at pad creases - from crimping when its hot and your
skin is soft. These deep fissures are easy to tape, but take ages to heal.
The reason for writing this today is that I got one a few weeks ago, managed
it just about better, but allowed a ripple at the corner to develop. Had
this been taken off before climbing then it wouldn't have split again.
Balls.

County mini raid

2011-07-08T09:59:00.001+01:00

There once was a time where through work I would frequently go to Edinburgh. And never during that time did it occur to me to drive. I think I come from an age where flying was considered exciting, and I liked it, so I would always do that. But perhaps I was missing a trick. On the way to Edinburgh is some great surfing potential, and some better climbing areas.

I left work on Wednesday at 1300. I drove north through the rain and standing water and arrived at a very bleak looking Beadnell Bay :

It looked rubbish. There were occasional sets which held promise, but really I would have been going in for the sake of it. Cos of the rain it looked like I was going to end up driving to the climbing wall in Edinburgh. Not happy. Decided to sack it and look at Bamburgh beach, and the first blip of excitement came when there were T4's in the car park, and people in wetsuits getting ready... I ran to the top of a dune and looked down to see big clean lines set out in front of me! Brilliant! I high tailed it back to the car and changed as fast as I could, almost as if any delay on my part would see these conditions dissipate.

When I got to the waters edge it looked to have gone off a bit, but there were lulls, and then there were sets. Dont be thinking pounding over head barrels, more like 2-3ft of clean organised waves - which is just what I needed. Caught a few rides, things were going well, but my feet were freezing and my board was slippy. Went ashore and scraped off some old wax and applied some new and got my boots. Back out for another hour - big difference! Positively stuck in place I had more control and i think one of the best sessions I have had.

Interestingly, as I bobbed around with seals in the sea, I could see that the incoming waves were forming tiny mini tubes. You couldnt have gotten in one, but you could stick your leg in or something. I remembered all that I had been told, about looking back over your shoulder as you paddle in to a wave to see where it was going, and began to both angle take off and slide along the face of the wave. So pleased!

Got out, went for some tea in the castle pub (bit log), and a final walk around the castle grounds :

Before driving the final hour and a quarter to Edinburgh. Checked in at hotel, went out for a beer. Next day, attended this meeting I was there for, managed to get away about 1500 and zoom back off to the County. This time I decided to climb, so I went to Kyloe.

As I arrived I couldnt believe the number of flies that swarmed around the car. It was so bad, I actually thought I must have parked on some carcass that they were feeding on, but it wasnt that, just that there were a lot of flies. I changed in the car, putting my coat and hood on and zipping it right up so as to prevent the little shits from getting me. Next I shot from the car and onto the path - no better, and - heavy rain started! back to the car, collect brolly. Wedge that in pads to prevent them and me getting soaked - works quite well actually. Stomp up to crag to find it totally dry, but then the sun comes out! it goes from a reasonable 16 degrees to 23, and the holds feel sharp and hurty. I get warmed up and have a go on Cubby's lip. Work out how to do it, but dont manage to redpoint. Ah well. Have a go on the yorkshireman, fail to step left foot onto nubbin, and everything feels desperate. Sack it off and go to look at waves again. There are none. Drive home.

Yorkshire wave

2011-07-04T18:37:00.001+01:00

Dave lay back on his pad, staring up at the staminaband undercuts and disbelieving how much harder it felt than the last time he'd tried. The problem, he explained, was that last time was months ago and the intervening months had not been good ones in climbing terms.

We tried, we failed. Rich Ames turns up and shows us how to get to the end but still fail. In fact, I think he shows us this five or six times. Perhaps he will see this and comment to advise whether it went down after I left :

Then came the weekend, and with it crippling mega heat. I opted for a tactical weekend of abstinence. We had people for dinner on saturday night, and as they were leaving he mentioned that there was swell about on the east coast - was I up for it? Hell yeah! All too soon the alarm was going off and the monster and I were blearily bundled into the back of a car laden with surfboards.

I'd never been surfing on the north east coast of England before, and I had been wanting to go with someone else to get shown where to go and so on. As we caught sight of the sea my heart sank - it looked totally flat! My host and driver warned that you couldn't see from there anyway and to wait. We parked and looked from the headland there were waves! Good clean ones too! With a mounting feeling of excitement and perhaps a little trepidation we ran back to the car to get suited up.

I learnt that it looks smaller from the top of the cliffs. When we paddled out it was 5ft on some of the sets and I also learnt that Cayton is a very heavy wave. Which was another new experience for me. The waves seemed to go from unrideable to too steep to closed out in the space of a second and not very much distance. Bit frustrating really. Didn't get to make much of it on my new board as I'm not good enough to catch a wave and be straight into the turn, I need to catch it, get my bearings and then slowly attempt a turn, wheras to get the best out of this you needed to angle take off and get the rail hard in. Basically I couldn't react in time cos I'm still finding my feet. Fun though, and after a two hour session I'd certainly had a workout.

We drove back to Sheffield and went straight down to squiffhanger. Twitter is a marvellous thing. I managed to get up to speed in the car on the way back, so that by the time we got there in time for the finals we already knew nedlog hadn't qualified. Such a shame as it sounds very close.

The finals always lack something when there's noone you know in them, and by the time we left my old man legs were very tired as was I.

pfirt!

2011-06-29T11:54:00.002+01:00

this is good

Podcast #37 - Pfirter by Midideux on Mixcloud

Nice day for a White wedding

2011-06-28T07:58:00.001+01:00

Morning. No rock climbs this weekend. My aunty's wedding at loseley Park near Guildford. nice. Good day for it, and totally free bar.

Here is a pair of pals loitering outside the building:

Which turned out to be the ancestral home of the foley bum doctor dynasty. We know this because this picture of james was on the wall :

Too hot for rocks anyway, so it was a good weekend to be elsewhere. Congrats also to @Jim_p_t who got hitched this weekend also.

Groove is in the heart

2011-06-24T10:43:00.001+01:00

The top of the groove felt greasy but I pushed on. In a position of extremis I could see myself turning puce. My breath came in shorter and shorter gasps... 'Just... make.. this move...', unable to think beyond the present I shake and pant and wedge my arse into the corner. It feels rubbish, and I'm slipping off. With the thought of having to fight so hard again, I stab two fingers upwards into the pocket and just as I think I cant keep going any more, its there, I can breathe for a second. The pocket allows me to get my arse deeper into the groove, and the weight back on my feet. I wonder if I have enough left to continue? As I shift about trying to get comfortable I look at my hands, glowing red and sore from the fight to get here, but I know I must. I look at the clip behind my knee. To clip it is to waste valuable beans, I must not falter. It's just climbing, don't think about it, just go for it. Empty your head and EXECUTE! I step up the groove and drop knee. My knee pushes into the corner. I lever myself leftwards to the crimp jug and man! has someone filed it down or something? its not a jug anymore - whoa! this is well different from doing it in isolation! The shouts from below come back into my concious and I hear them, I cant let them down! Continue! I suck in a deep breath, spin on my left foot and bounce my right up the groove. With a final lurch I snatch the penultimate hold, gasping as my fingers connect with a positive edge. It feels good, this move's trivial but better climbers have dropped it from here... Shaking, I slide myself onto the polished footledge and reach tentatively into the flake. A breath... I'm not airborne... Dont fuck it up now! grasping the rope I pull it up and reach towards the chains... But as I do so PING! my foot blows off the polished foothold, and I plummet towards the ground, still clutching the rope, a puzzled look of 'What?' on my face.

This is my dream, my fear - what I anticipate happening. This is why I will probably clip that last draw even though it feels wierd and its in the way behind your leg. Why I will investigate the knee bar. And this isnt what happened last night. Leading up towards a time when I will have a session on it I start to dream about what it will feel like to do it. And I can actually concieve of doing it as well. But perhaps now is the time to move on and save it for when its cooler. In my head I had visions of firing it on my first go, then going to the pub and buying everyone dinner, but it doesnt happen like that.

Booty Shaker

2011-06-20T08:13:00.001+01:00

Sometimes, when people tell you things you dont want to hear, its easier for you to convince yourself that they are wrong rather than accept that perhaps, the reason so many of them say the same thing is because its actually true. I didn't want to go to the top, cos I thought it would be scary. Yet somewhere, a voice inside said - do it, it won't be that bad - and it wasn't.

I will always start the session with a go from the ground, as I think it can't hurt, and it keeps one's hand in. Made it to the groove with one hand, but tried to clip from a wierd place and ended up grabbing the draw. Had a chill, did groove - top, including the clip - which is ok. The thing is - getting to the top of the groove is hard, and exiting it is hard also. But, when I flick my Beyonce like booty into the corner at the top of the groove, although it feels unlikely at first, once wedged I can get a bit back. So whilst it feels a struggle to get established, if I can get there, and get my ass in position - I could be in with a chance.

The thing people said was to work the top. They all said to get that bit wired, and not to keep trying from the ground. And now, at last, I am willing to accept they might be right. I think in part its getting used to falling off a bit more. I always knew success on this route would depend on my ability to be able to fall off it. So, the next thing to do is pocket top. And I felt like i nearly did that as well. All good - back Thursday.

After that I took Britain's Best Bum Doctor down Cheedale for him to do Lockless Monster, which of course - he did. With the comment that he had done harder 7a's in France. Perhaps it is 8a if you are soloing and have to climb a loose vertical grass slope at the top in order to get down.

self replicating media node

2011-06-16T10:23:00.002+01:00

Blah blah blah, some links on Mecca, blah, drone, fear of falling blah. Boring isnt it? well, yeah - it is, but thankfully that's not all I have to say. Almost all, but not quite. In the intervening days and hours it has gotten hotter, stiller and less suitable for boning cheesy grips which attract the full glare of the sun, so whilst I have been back on Mecca, I have ploughed new furrows and actually writing with tales (partially) of success.

Those of you who are fortunate enough to know me will know I am shameless in my persuit of media domination, and so when I got to climb with Nick "berlusconi" Brown, the chance of cro-barring my way into the Outcrop films forthcoming production was too pungent an opportunity to ignore. Nick was standoffish, even cool at first, but slowly, slyly, I weaseled my way into the gusset of his affections, and began planting seed(s). It was Ned's fault. He went off to pull on plastic grifters, so I had to widen the net in my quest for sport climbing satisfaction. We went to the Tor, it was boiling. We looked at Sean's - wet. The dale beckoned its gnarled finger...

When Ned, Ed and I went and investigated the nook last year, I was offended by how crap it looked, so I had low expectations. We went round to the Cornice to attempt to find someone with beta, and we found Ethan. We wandered across and put in the clips from the tree. We wasted as much time as we could but there was no sign of the beanie hatted beta machine, so I sacrificed Nick's chances of the flash and sent him up to work it out. He did well, and actually made me thing it was doable, but he didn't do. I squandered more time, still no Ethan, so up I go - "Come On!" I thought, "Dylan's flashed this! it must be piss!" but my attempt ends where Nick's did, hanging off a jug in space with no means of climbing beyond it. I refine the sequence and as I lower off, a beanie bobs into view. We heed some of his advice, dispense with other bits of it and Nick goes again. He flumps off and after a quick confirmation of my master sequence, lowers off. I go again, and its well easy. I get to the top amazed that anyone could think it 8a. Lower off. Nick does it. We go home, my hayfever goes nuts.

Encouraged by the new, easier approach from Millers Dale and the tunnels, I find myself back there a couple of days later, only this time its all about the Cornice, and the route Nemesis. There are punters (Dylan) on the warm ups, and thus I am off the hook (of having to teeter up a dusty vertical wall towards a loose and damp belay). We get stuck in and a couple of times Nick and I climb through the crux and get stuck crossing the bulge which leads to the easier climbing (which is still pumpy). This is good, and a pleasant suprise. Time ticks past and I find myself back there, this time with buck toothed crimp fiend and now camera afficionado Paul Bennett. He pitched it as being him wanting to take some pics, so I wasn't prepared for the media circus which ensued. Paul had brought Stu Littlefair, and both chaps had more stuff than those who were climbing, only their bags were full of camera gear. But, they took some nice pics, and it was worth it because I have never had nice pictures of me climbing, so it was good to have some for once.

Finally (because I have to get some work done), I recieved my copy of the new guide again yesterday - and what a fine thing it is. As you would expect, its beautifully presented and crammed full of exciting new areas and contentious grades (brad pit - 7c!). And, after a year of campaigning - a picture of me! Already, talk at the crag is of who is this handsome new bastard, casually ticking the Peak's best problems and maintaining suave sophistication throughout. Ok, its not. People were talking about seeking out these new areas and going bouldering again - a dirty word until october at least.

Cullodone

2011-05-26T09:29:00.001+01:00

Is it a good sign when you arrive somewhere to climb and there's noone there? If its a popular crag - probably not. That said it was a funny time - after the morning shift, but before the normal workers would have been able to get there. The sun wasnt out, and the ground bore signs that it must have rained during the day, but the mega wind had been stifled and the air was warm and muggy. Did some rumbling around on jugs then bailed to Culloden.

Ned hadn't even put his boots on. He was supposed to be saving himself for Revelations. I felt the pressure of execution - the knowledge that you have the physical ability to complete a climb and just the doing between you and success. Rumbled up it putting the clips in, then had a moment on the rope at the jug pocket before the crux. Decided to put the next draw in to have a go on the move with the rope above. Describing it as 'the move' is misleading, as that implies its the hardest move or something, which it isn't. In the final analysis - its a pretty easy move, but its the one which requires commital, and that which I backed off when I last investigated. So, with the draw in place, I do the move - its easy. I take the top draw off and come back to the pocket. Having a moment and telling myself just to go for it I crimp through the crux moves and with slightly more aplomb - launch to the jug - yes! its allright! I dont collapse in a trembling mess of jelly, I do it! awesome! I get lowered off and set the stopwatch to wait.

Some time passes, some general nonsense, some israeli chocolate spread. Now I feel nervous. There's really nothing between me and it - but I have to actually get it right this time. Doing my best to empty my head I set off. It goes well - as I pop to the pocket the holds are all alright and have beans to spare. Crimp, crimp, stab and I am at the high point. I dont allow myself time for consideration, slotting my right hand up into the locky jam thing, and then up come the feet, I try not to allow myself to get bogged down in the minutae of foot position - what I have is good enough, so I make my move, and its like its above the mats at the climbing works and is 6a - I reach out to the jug! get in! Delighted, I lower off and share congratulations with Nedward who is so enthused by my success that he's already squeezing his tootsies into his boots for a go.

With no warm up his first go is a fumble. He swings around a bit, works out what to do and where to hold the holds then comes down for a chill for a minute. As he sits on the ledge surrounded by murder weapons he steels himself for the rat crimps above, then, like a fox pouncing on a chicken he goes - pow pow pow! he's at the crimp, the fox looks to be less pouncing, more having a swat at, but a swat is enough and with the culloden chicken in his jaws he scampers to the jugs with his tail in the air - BOOM! A ned o dob o log tag team ascent!

Back to the tor... Dave Musgrove and Miles are wandering about, and the crag is still reasonably quiet - certainly compared to how it has been. Dave is on one of those routes above Pinches wall, Its not little extra, and it looks hard. Ned gets on Revelations. He does the move to the pinch every time he tries, but never the move after it. Poor Ned, he's getting cross with it but I am so convinced he is going to do it that I wont let him off the rope. In short, he doesnt ever do the go again move off the pinch, but the bit I thought was hard he makes look easy!

Miles is having a look at evolution. Bear in mind that I saw who I think was Markus Bock on it last week, and he was having a hard time - Miles was all over it. The moves which I have seen other people struggle with looked like jugs to him, but the easy roof bit he seemed to find difficult. Suspect theres some trick we didnt know about.

I have a go on Mecca. I feel good before I set off, and I sort of know and expect to get into the groove this time. As my right hand snags the horn and I walk my feet through, I think the difference is one of attitude. IN the past when I have been in this position I wimp out and grab the draw, but buoyed with the success around the corner and some encouragement from below, I walk my feet out and get into the egyptian. I match and actually shake for a minute before taking a hand off to clip. Whilst it doesnt feel easy, I do it and go back into the semi rest egyptian. I have a shake and look up the groove. Then decide to rest on the rope. But this is still progress.

Into the groove from the deck is a gateway link. The climbing changes at that point from burl to technical, and the groove offers some respite, whether from a kneebar or an arse bar which ever way you do it. I did have a little furtle at the knee bar last night - blimey, the first ones not great is it!

Lord of the fishes

2011-05-20T08:15:00.001+01:00

Si Holmes made a good point - climbers diversifying to surfing like it so much is because every day is a school day, you get to enjoy that rapid progression that so enticed you to climbing in the first place. Each time I go, I learn lessons. I come away ruminating on the latest revelation, and feeling like I have improved. I think its also because it crosses over quite well - strength to weight ratio of a climber should be better than average, and with it the ability to flick to ones feet rather than struggle.

We had a wedding in Croyde (well, in Saunton, but you will have heard of Croyde), so with a fair group of others, we trekked down to North Devon. Rather than camping we had rented a house in the village, and although the weather would have been ok for camping it was pretty cool, and rather breezy, so a house changed it into a pleasant experience rather than a trial. I mentioned that it was windy, and this all but did for the waves. There was scant little swell anyway, and what there was was blown flat by the wind. That said, there was occasionally a rideable wave surface, but it was small and short lived.

Just like you wouldn't go to Stanage in June (unless you were getting up early and going to do snatch), so a good surfer wouldnt even paddle out in conditions like these, but a punter can still learn things. Which is another thing about learning - there's something to be gained from having a go. The water was conspicuously quiet, and there was a definate lack of good people, but of course there were - you won't get Ed Robinson in the water unless its at least 3ft, >10secs and light offshore. I on the other hand, went out every day and did a bit and loved it.

So, what were these lessons then? I got to ride a mate's fish - this was the first revelation. First of all, I could duck it, which meant getting through white water became less daunting. Less daunting = greater willingness to try. Then when up on my feet it was more responsive, allowing more precise control of direction and enhancing my ability to be in the right place to prolong the ride. I managed to both bottom turn and get between sections which I havent yet done on my own mini mal. I also learnt that having a watch is a great thing, as it feels like you have been in the water for hours when its been 30 minutes. And finally, i learnt that when paddling out, you dont need to paddle as hard and fast as you can - save that for catching waves. A more relaxed stroke on the way out allowed greater longevity of session and better recovery for those explosive bursts on the way back.

So, back to sheffield, back to the tor, back on the route. First day on it again since Croyde tomorrow.

Badger bait

2011-05-11T10:46:00.001+01:00

Several people had mentioned the amount of shit I was getting on the internet. I hadn't seen any of it, and wondered where it was. I thought of all the possible vectors and finally thought to check UKB. And there it was, the motherlode. A steaming pile of Morton Muck. Although most of it is reasonable and makes sense, the blog is not to be taken as literally as it seems it is read (paradoxical statement perhaps). I write what my inner dialog was when I did or tried something, and perhaps lack the external filter that some people apply before putting pen to paper. I'm not going to apply one now, I dont mind the shit - its not proper shit after all, and largely deserved! However, one small point - Paul B's aversion therapy - i dont believe thats the way. The way is small incremental steps.

I should have been to the county this weekend, but the forecast was so bad we pulled the plug. It seems like every weekend when i have a full weekend ticket, the weather craps out. Contemplated all sorts of options, none of them looked very hopeful, and so I ended up at the tor. At 0830, but it was already 14degrees and totally still. The groove was smee. Made it into the base three or four times, but never to clip. Had one go where got the horn, then managed to sort it out, but felt in bulk.

I think all week the weather predictions had been for saturday to be showers in the day and then for sunday to be mega rain, and saturday was true, but the mega rain arrived on the evening, and sunday was mint. Went with Ned and Jon to check out Badger rock, which was good. Nice little spot in a nice location, with some pretty good problems to go at. Badger Badger Badger does look really good. Adam turns up and adds deathy finishes to the easy stuff and thats that.

Yesterday was supposed to be back on Culloden, but we got sidetracked at the tor. Had a quick burn on Mecca, but the previous days 'easy session' on the board slowed me down and it didnt go great. Good tor scene, and loads better conditions than saturday. Overcast with a fresh breeze. Did Powerband again, which makes two ascents in about 20 years. Tried to do it a third time with a view to getting it wired and nearly managed it (falling stepping foot out of egyptian, but with hand on the undercut). This is good, and I am now psyched for stamina band as a training project for Mecca. Its going to teach me to recover. And, you see, the reason I have never given much energy to it because of my inability to do the last move on PB. Now I can do it I am going to do Staminaband.

Cullodon't

2011-05-05T11:02:00.001+01:00

A quick tale from the Tor for you. Its all about mornings at the moment. The sun gets round onto the tor by noon, and to be honest - the heat is so great, and so prolonged, that there's little point going of an evening as even after the sun goes, it doesnt cool down enough before it goes dark. And dispense with the idea of lamping - you need to be an hour or so after dark for condensation to have gone (even then it might not have done), and the expense and size of an effective setup must surely be prohibitive. Anyway, given all this advice, I went last night anyway with Nick Brown, and lo - it was good...

Yes, it would have been too hot on Mecca, and yes, that which wasnt at the right hand side was sweltercon factor 20, but it was quite climbable in the leafy right hand side, and in fact I think it felt pretty reasonable. Funnels the wind you see the right hand side bit, and I think it felt like it was ok. Nick hadnt done Powerband, and I havent done it twice (the proper way), so we got involved in that in the guise of a warm up. The part of this tale which is pertinent is that previously on the ascent which suceeded, I employed the feet straight on at the end beta, and have never been able to make it work since. Ned and I talked about this last week, as he does egyptian. Nick and I tried it last night and went from getting the hand on the mound to getting it in the cleft (snick). Interesting. Tried from the start, and wilted getting left foot across, but got renewed interest in Stamina band, which must surely be good training for Mecca? Athough, as I think Rae once said, powerband is only good for doing powerband!

The point of the expedition was to ascend to the summit of the climb 'Culloden'. So after argubly exhausting ourselves flailing along a polished traverse at a different crag, we headed to our objective. From the ground I placed the first three clips, and with the rope dangling safely overhead, I scuttled onto the ledge. Moving the murder weapons out of the way, I teetered upwards. To my delight, the jugs were dry, and I was able to swing gayly between them like a hippo galloping into burger king. Up to the crimp I went - ooh, it felt hard and physical (again, in the words of the Cowie - theres no hiding from it), and take said I.

After a moments respite to collect ones thoughts and allow the lactate to drain, I pulled on at the crimp. What a few weeks ago felt like a rat crimp felt like a boner, and I casually stabbed in to the tooth. Levered up to the jam and looked impotently at my feet - erm, nothing looks right. Hmm. Back on the rope. I put the next draw in and suddenly a helpful smear appears just above the third bolt. Hmm, the move is about 3a. I go back to the jugs, and climb through to the end. Hmm.

Nick has a go, makes good progress - does all the moves, but feels cold after winching my bulk for the last 20 minutes and comes back down. I have another go, this time climbing through the hard bit, but being too scared to commit to the last move. I know I am being a wimp, and before I give up I hold the position for a few seconds and try to talk myself into it, but it doesnt happen and I slump off the route.

So, the problem is that physically I can do the route, but I need to embrace falling off first. The problem is that I need to thread my foot behind the rope just above the bolt, and its you are without your edge as you are at the top. Man up Morton!

ironmonger

2011-05-03T09:50:00.001+01:00

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.

Roof Warrior

2011-04-13T08:58:00.001+01:00

Tuesday the 5th - Almscliff. She was having the girls for tea, and whilst I could have gone, I felt there was an opportunity to be taken. As the working day dragged on I excitedly checked out the window and as time drew near the sky suggested otherwise, but the streets were dry. Zoomed first to Horsforth to visit sister and new baby, then to the Cliff. I dont think I have ever had it to myself, but am pretty sure this was the case today. So I stripped to my argyle socks and completed a naked lap of the crag before flashing Cherry Falls.

Back in the real world, I warmed up at the Matterhorn boulder on that lovely 4+ arete thing. Only, smearing onto the arete my foot skids off, my entire weight bounces off my shin and I end up rolling around the grass clutching my leg. Its great to be this talented.

The first of two rooves. Matt's. Bit spicy on your own, as throwing for 'the' move involves potentially jettisoning oneself off the edge of a block, although after a few goes, it becomes apparent that you'd have to be really wild for this to actually happen. I work out a sequence and manage to do the moves. I sit back underneath and start redpointing. Not sure the term really applies to boulderising, but you know what I mean (I start having goes). An anatomy of my trying problems works like this :

1) work out the moves
2) hash together some sort of sequence (usually wrong)
3) identify (through execution) every possible method of getting it wrong
<fast forward 2 years>
4) get to the top

Matt's is no different, although its a microcosm of the above, with the whole gamut of feelings and stages taking place over an hour rather than two years. Feel delighted to have done it, and cobble together my rag tag possessions and shuffle off towards the other roof of my dreams - Jess's.

Even getting into the cleft is something of a struggle thanks to the epic wind, but when I squeeze into the darkness I am pleased to find no poo, just glass. I lash my pads to the boulders at the top, fashioning a sort of slide/platform, then set about working out how to do the top. I manage to climb through the difficult finishing moves a couple of times before establishing myself at the bottom for a proper go. But the problem now is session fitness. I get there every go, I get to the point where you have to try, and because I feel a bit pumped I dont dare. In fairness, this is at least partly due to a fairly rational fear of being found face down, twitching on a carpet of broken glass. Or being poo'ed on.

Sometimes its fine to operate in isolation. I actually like it on some things, but more often than not team psyche is an underated motivating factor. Felt a bit bored and lonely on Tuesday, but strange short sessions are difficult to arrange around and thats just how it is sometimes.

Angston

2011-04-12T09:40:00.001+01:00

Saturday the 2nd - Ned wants to go to Anston. Ed wants to socially adapt Spike the nervous dog. I want to do a problem I failed on two years ago.

I'd convinced myself that it takes ages to get to. It doesnt, it took half what I expected, but - more on that subject later.

As we walk down the path into the woods, the scent of wild garlic wafts up our noses. Ed is suprised by the tranquility and beauty of the surroundings. When you suggest you're going to rotherham rock climbing, you instinctively imagine scratching around on some filth on the edge of a council estate, hooded youths beatboxing like in a copley brothers video and syringes and johnnies carpetting the floor. Not so Anston. The wild garlic is abundant and a glittering brook dances through the valley but for road noise you could be completely at peace. The crag is south facing, but at least partly shaded by vegetation, so when we get there, bits of it are boiling, and bits of it quite good. All rumble around warming up before Ned starts work on the meat of the day - Mike Adam's new climb 'into the fire'. Spike, Ed and I bimble down to Ebola. This is a problem I tried the only other time I had been to Anston, and thought i was gonna do. Had meant to get back for ages, but never made it. At first it seems totally implausible, so we have to distract Ned from his goals to tell us what to do. He remembers, I improvise, progress is made. Slow progress. He wonders back up the way to Mike's thing.

A moment passes, Ed and I fuss the dog, from a distance we notice Ned pulls on for another go. Something looks different, he doesnt stop, fumble or pause, and actually - he looks like he might be trying! he busts out leftwards and moves through a world of sloping vertical pinches, before locking up to a jug rail - its almost surreal, without a fuss he has done it - theres no yelps for joy, whoops of success or 'tag my fist' bullshit, its just in the bag like its 7b+. Ed shouts his congratulations, Ned puts his shirt on and bounds over, the suggestion of a smile cracking his rictus.

With all this positive energy in the air I change my beta for the crux move on Ebola and set off for another go. The refined sequence is the way, and I too rumble to the jugs of glory. Everyone happy, we move on to have a look at something else I wanted to try, and I ask Ned how hard what he has just done is. "Umm, might be 8b I suppose" he replies. "What does it get given" I enquire, and back comes the answer "8b+" flippin eck Nedward! good effort! As Ned is officially banned from grading and commenting on grades - 8b+! We discuss the merits of foraging and Ned feeds all but the dog wild Garlic, which actually is really nice.

St Beefcake united

2011-03-29T10:43:00.001+01:00

This extra hour knocked off has knocked me for six. I feel exhausted, but then I suppose I did get up at what my head thinks is 0445.

I last wrote at the end of the Mega week, and I am saddened but not suprised to report that that was indeed the end of any greatness. The void of obscurity beckons!

The night after I was last wittering, I got called out at 0300. I was then working right through till 1300, when I took my leave and headed out for some fresh air. I was rubbish. Felt really strange and nothing worth writing about happened. The point in telling you this is that whilst I am fortunate enough to sometimes get to do stuff midweek, I do pay for it occasionally with out of hours things overnight.

She and I went to the Lakes for the weekend (19/20). We drove up friday morning, arriving beneath clear blue spring skies, the summits jagged across the horizon and the ODG glinting in the distance (we were in Langdale). Set up camp, and legged it over the hardknott pass to the coast. To say St.Bees was further than expected would be something of an understatement. Granted, we had taken the direct but twisty route, but still - an hour and twenty minutes! Anyway, it was a nice day for a drive, and very stunning situation. Turns out St Bees isnt actually at St Bees, but north at Sandwith. Anyway, the PDF on lakesbloc is spot on, and with exellent, clear directions we arrive and pay for parking at the farm. A short trot up the track to the light house, and I can't emphasise enough quite how beautiful the setting is - 270 degrees of sea, clear blue glittery sea. Wow. Then a death track. Well, actually we had a refusal on death track one which lead to trekking off round the head towards whitehaven to take an easier but still deathy track down. Then once you get down its epic getting around, slippery and involving tottering across a rocky platform over death chasms. And, going down on that path isnt even where the boulders are! Eventually we get back to the original path, which is right by where we need to be, and the first impression is on how incredible the rocks look, and of how amazing the shapes the water has carved are. But there isn't much. Plus, its 1630, and we have to leave at 1730. I do about 45 minutes worth before we trek back up the cliff to the car. A dash back at lightspeed ensues and we arrive at the campsite, mildly car sick and having missed our table. We have no signal to phone through, but after a moments deliberation get changed and decide to try it anyway. We arrive and there's space, and they fit us in. Both finally relax and have a lovely evening.

The saturday isn't as stellar a day as Friday, but its still good. Bowfell is in cloud, but the crinkles occasionally come into view, so up we get and off we go. I think we left at about 1030, and we were atop bowfell by lunchtime. Then back along the crinkles and down back to the pub for about 1600. That first pint was brilliant. We had another, felt quite pissed, then went back to the campsite to get showered and wait for them to start serving food. Went back to the pub, ate, drank a bit more but by 1930 we were bushwacked and back to the campsite we went. Now dont think of us struggling into a tiny tent, oh no - we had rented a wooden camping pod. Which is basically a wooden tent. The plan was to watch a film on the iPad, but by 2030 we were both fast asleep. Sunday it rained, so we left early and went to see my sister's new baby.

So, i got back to work on the Tuesday to find out that one of our suppliers had been hacked and that I needed to spend the week sorting all that out. This was last week, and that consumed most, if not all of my time. I did make it to the pass on tuesday afternoon though, and set about working Mr Fantastalog again. Ultimately, I didn't get anywhere, but I feel like I learnt a bit about what will be required. Popped in at the cave on the way home and worked out a method of starting halfway, then back to Chester where I was stopping that night.

Finally, to finish off this rambling tirade - at the weekend I met Neddy, Nick Brown and Micheala (caminati, not the bleached climbing works stalwart) out at Burbage. Old Micheala wanted to get on Voyager, I wanted to do the Sphinx, Nick was up for anything, and Neddy wanted to sit and think about football. Micheala had just done Full Power. We both did the Terrace again. That shot hole is loads bigger than when I first did it. Then I did the sphinx. Nick and I fumbled on Giza and Micheala furtled at Voyager. Michaela got me to push him through the start, and the thought which struck me was how ferkin hard his back was! it was like benching a granite man! he is the most ripped man in the universe! You could cut yourself on his abs! His torso is like a badly peeled potato. Thats what you get if you climb 8c I suppose. Anyway, it starts raining and we end up back in Fritzl's champ chamber hanging off strips of wood.

MegaWeek

2011-03-16T10:11:00.002Z

"I am surely due a mega week of account closing. So much failure recently, but so close and so many irons in fires on a number of things. Imagine the mega week - Lowrider, Zoo York, Trigger! That would be a takeaway curry and beer justifying weekend."

A week ago on Tuesday afternoon, after years of on and off trying I finally did Zoo York at caley. I wondered if the 'mega week' was here. But, as thursday passed and was rainy, I thought there was no way. Thursday was the Low rider window and it'd rained. I had no window at the weekend, and Monday was the day before my cave chance. In my head, this meant I wasnt going to get lowrider within a week of Zoolog. Anyway, the whole thing was just a ridiculous joke anyway - theres no way I'd end all my seiges in a week... was there?!

She and I went for a lovely and long walk on Sunday. We parked at the Strines inn, walked up to Back Tor from there, along the top of derwent, passed the Salt Cellar and down over the moor to Moscar. As you know, it was a stellar day and we revelled in our beautiful surroundings. On the way down towards Moscar heights, you can see clear across to Lowrider, and it looked beautiful. The late afternoon washed out winters sun bathed everything in a Constable-esque glow, and I loved living in Sheffield at that moment. We stood together looking up at Stanage and thanked our stars that we'd ended up here, and all was well.

Monday was also lovely. As the day went on I wondered whether there could be a synergy of intention between my desire to not do too much today (as preparation for the cave) and my dream of getting lowrider done. I realised that if I went to the wall at 1500 then I could warm up there and still get to lowrider for 1630. That, I realised was enough time to have a couple of goes, plus - the having to drive and walk up the hill would mean i wouldnt thrash myself on the board and potentially be in with a chance tomorrow too.... Perhaps the mega week was still open! At the wall I recruited Geordie Tom, and together we marched up the hill to Stanage far end.

The problem was all dry, it looked like someone had been on it over the weekend - the holds were chalked rather than washed clean. I wonder with hindsight, this made more difference than I realised? Anyway, pulled on and did the end. Felt good on that top seam thing, so I did it again just to reinforce. Brilliant. Set the old stopwatch, brush the holds and sit down to admire the other aspect of the walk we went on yesterday. Beep Beep Beep! I pull my boots on and take some breaths. My expectation is to fluff it on this first go, after all thats usually how it works on the first redpoint of the day, but not this time. I turn the lip of the bloc and I feel good, I know I have enough beans to do it, and as I latch the seam i feel good. My left hand comes in and I just feel i have the hold better than when I tried before, and I dont feel tired. I dispense with all this clever left foot beta - which just feels unnatural. Without allowing myself time to think about it, I squeeze my toe into the hole and feel for the position. Like a shift light in a racing car it flickers on and I reach casually into the jug! Awesome! felt so easy when it finally went down as well!

Tom is well psyched, and I wonder about doing it again, but getting him to film it? but he reigns me in - as I am climbing the next day, it would be folly to do it again for the camera. I see the logic, pack my stuff and walk down. Drop him off back at the wall and am home by 1800.

The forecast had warned that yesterday would be foggy and not so good, but it was down to 40 on the snake at 0620. My journey to Chester took ages. I didnt get to my desk before 0815. Had a busy but productive morning, finished at 12, jumped in the car and inbetween lid fulls (forgot spoon) of pasta salad, completed a conference call and hurtled down the a55. Lets just say that the weather wasnt promising. I'd spoken to Rupert who mentioned that at the weekend it had been like this but that it was actually quite good in the cave. And on arrival it sort of was. certainly there were people there, and the holds were the right colour and so on, perhaps there was a chance.

Gangly scouse cave lord Rich Hession loped around the classics with the energy of a man full of caffeine, Rupert and I scuttled around the wings trying to get some warmth in our bones. Realise as I start getting sucked into elimanates at the RHS that its time to start Trigger, so I pull Dylan's mega pad into position and set about creating a platform. Leah, Ste Mac and the Gresh arrive. My first go is log, feels wierd dropping in to the undercut. Second go is better, but I dont get the second hold right and therefore its hard. However, it sort of shows me what I need to do, and on the next go I get that second hold really well, I bone it and it feels good. I twist into the egyptian, take the undercut, turn the gyptian back and have a pat at the shothole. I have the height I have the speed, but I dont actually hold it. This is food for thought, I realise that to get the shothole you dont have to lock to it (unless you are Ben Bransby), you have to slap it from the position I have been in so many times. I start again, this time I just decide to go for it, I will try and hold on if I hit it, and hit it I do - bang! its a flippin jug! I dont believe it! You know how in videos everyone rinses to the top from here? well I know why - its easy!

Well, I know what it is - compared to what you have just done it feels piss, but pulling on there its still quite hard. With the shothole nailed, i rinse to the top basically footless in a trance at having done it. Wow wow and triple wow. I am so pleased, but in the back of my head I want that digital prize, I want it on film! exchange pleasantries with my chums in the cave, and have a few goes on halfway - which feels desperate! Then I decide to try it again for the camera. Once again i hit the shothole, hold it and rotate out to the side pull. I keep getting flummoxed with my feet, but as my left slips off it forces me to adjust. Fighting to hold it together I manage to get to the strong position and lurch through the jugs. Phew! thank goodness for that.

Here's the video of this second lap :

So there it was, the three nemeses crushed! the mega week was reality! Imagine for a moment, being Mick Page - mega few years! Anyway, diminutive geordies aside, I was happy, three great and hard problems done, on to the next goals. Which are? well, I was thinking about this on the way home, and theres halfway in the cave. If the block goes back on then theres in hell. Also, Ru and I tried Clyde - which is actually really good. So maybe that (scary). Over here theres HTY sit. Those things at Curbar - plenty in short, but the main event - Mecca, is what really looms in the distance. So I need to up the PE training I think.

Zoo Log

2011-03-10T09:58:00.002Z

Doing well in competitions isnt about being able to climb 8b (or even 8a for that matter), its about being able to flash 7c all day. Sadly, I'm really bad at flashing problems, hence I got to the top of a lot of things on Saturday (CWIF) but not in as few goes as were possible. The problems werent actually that hard, they were just easy to fall off. This was a comp which rewarded climbing ability over strength and training. Splitting the qualifiers was a great move and it made it much more palatable going round as a competitor. However, the new holds soon took their toll and many people were wincing as they reached the latter stages of the morning. If I climb well then I love comps. If I make silly mistakes then I spend ages kicking myself and remember why I dont do them any more.

So, after what was ultimately quite a disappointing performance at the CWIF I didnt think I was climbing very well, had lost sheets of skin and was a bit down in the dumps. Watched the finals on Sunday and wished I was there, cos its always a great atmosphere, but Sunday night is about drinking wine and winding down, not getting hyped up, so I watched on the internet. Monday was the first chance to get back in my corner, and who should I find there, looking on misty eyed, but the godfather of 7b+ himself - John Welford. He's torn a bicep tendon and is rehabilitating, so isnt actually on the board, but has naturally gravitated in that direction. The final problems are still on the wall, and I am excited to explore the new surface - which, I have to say, is brilliant. Gone is the impressive but too steep bennett corner, gone as well the barrel, the corners of which saw many a knee wedged against them. In is the multi-faceted more reasonable angle and with it a totally new experience. I think its a big improvement. Considering it wasnt planned and Andy Long and Pickles wouldnt tell them what they were getting, what they came up with is great. Quite competent that team.

Busted out the womens final problems. Including the one none of them did. Felt dead tough, until it was pointed out that A) I had seen 3 of 4 done, and B) I only flashed one (thanks Graeme). Did no mens! The far right one which the slovenian man flashed - so impressive - this is about 8b! Nearly did the next one in (the one they all did), and nearly did the mantle the box on the slab on the far left, but got the fear and bottled it. Used more than my share of beans and didnt really go on the board.

Which meant that Tuesday was actually the second day on. Another corker of a day, but I hadnt wanted to climb outside on Monday as i was trying save skin. Finished work and drove to Caley. I think the problem with me and Zoo York has been that I have been quite close for some time, so I have had the attitude that I 'will just get it done' and then do something else. When actually problems dont reward presumptuousness, and I kept getting things wrong and getting shut down. This time I warmed up properly, took my time and only headed up there when the idea of swinging around on that tape box edge didnt sound horrific. I also prepared properly when I got there. I marked the holds in the right places, cleaned everything and took the time to set the pads right - giving me confidence that all was in order before starting. Finally, rather than just starting it, I did it from standing first. To reinforce the top. Then I did it from the undercut, to further reinforce and to get the idea of doing it in my head. It felt good, I felt good, but the edges of tiredness were present. Doing all i could to ignore the signs and empty my head of everything I set off from the start, and didnt take the edge right although tried to continue, nearly made it as well, but it wasnt to be. On the next go I didnt get one of the toe hooks right first time, and had to weedle it in, which took the edge off and I failed again.

Perhaps the biggest challenge for me with this problem was in my head. I had to work hard to totally empty my head of everything before setting off. I had to get myself to stop thinking about what I would do when I had done it, stop thinking and wondering whether i could do it, and believe! Emptying ones head is actually harder than it sounds. I actually didnt feel as good as I started as I had on the go before. Before, when I got to the undercut, I felt strong! I thought I was going to do it then, but this time was more ragged, I felt a bit wild as I took the undercut, but managed not to think about the consequences and carry on. Boom, hit the edge, not got it right, managed to adjust it - which is incredible! ,kick the toe up into the toe hook, spend a bit of time weedling it into position and take the hand off - it holds, I get to the sideways nubbin in good control and start to take the swing, working hard to scum my right foot against the wall as I go. It feels wild still, but I kill the swing and slap my heel on, before I have time to think, to wonder if I have the holds right, I slap my right up to the ear and again, get it boned. I dont stop, try not to take stock and lurch rightwards for the sidepull, the problem here has been that this is a bit of a non hold. Its not very helpful and it points the wrong way. I dont actually really stop on it, just tag it and bounce on to the jug - cos I know I'm coming off I think.

As the fingers of my right hand close around the jug, the thought that I dont have it properly and I feel a bit pumped flash through my head, these get brushed aside as psyche takes over and I kick my foot up to the tape box edge. For a moment I think I'm boxed and wont be able to get to the top! This fleeting thought goes the way of the other fleeters as my palm sinks over the top sloper - thank god I marked them! I match up and mantle to glory. As I do so, all I can think of is Martin Smith who fell from here before he did it. Thankfully this doesnt happen and I scamper over the top delighted to have ended this siege. I slump back onto my pad and compose a text message. Its 4pm and I have an hour to go, but I almost want to stop now and go home.

She and I go out for dinner tonight, and have a lovely evening, but I wake up the next day with a cold! must have been trying hard!

NoRider again.

2011-02-28T11:16:00.001Z

Well, the weather was wrong then wasn't it?! It was supposed to be shit on Saturday and nice on sunday, and whilst Saturday did start off meeting expectations, it then went on to exceed them by the afternoon. Figuring to make the most of the drying effect of the wind, I dragged Ned up to Lowrider on Saturday afternoon. To be honest, with hindsight, my undoing was my lack of preparation. The warm up was the hike up the hill through a bog and head down into the wind. A few pull ups on the jug at the start and then quick ascende of the end. Felt grippy. I felt good, it was surely on. We quipped that I would have to be quick about it before we both got frostbite. Which was to prove prophetic. Had a fanny go, forgetting the feet and making it hard on myself, called it a warm up go and sat down to rest before a proper attempt.

This came, and it went well, but not well enough. I turned the lip and got eyeballing the jug, but things were slightly not right and I couldnt take a hand off to go for it. Started the waiting game again. Shoes off, trying to keep warm, even hiding in the green cleft with Nedward for warmth. None of it worked. Body heat was departing fast. Squeezed bloodless white paws back into the teams and set off again. This time it was solid. I rinsed to the jug, sorted myself out and locked up to the rail, feels good, taken it in the right place for once, and then my left hand comes in, and its better than before, I know I've got it, and I can weedle myself into position. I kick my foot off and round to the unhelpful hole thing. It actually feels like I'm going to do it. Start to udge for the sweetspot, looking for that position where you are assured of success, and just as I find it - POW, off blows my foot and I am earthbound, suprised, gutted and cross.

Further attempts come and go, and I get back there about four or five times, but never quite as well, and I leave empty handed. My right foot is so cold that I am back in Sheffield and home well before I get feeling back. So, lessons learned : warm up properly - and possibly somewhere else. And, Lowrider could be one to leave until May.

I am surely due a mega week of account closing. So much failure recently, but so close and so many irons in fires on a number of things. Imagine the mega week - Lowrider, Zoo York, Trigger! That would be a takeaway curry and beer justifying weekend.

More from the cave

2011-02-21T09:14:00.001Z

It appears that North America has a much more stable, predictable, and more importantly - dry weather system. You can probably pick any weekend in the right season in Colorado and just organise a weekend away with your chums and get to go rock climbing. On actual rocks. All that can be certain for the UK climber is that nothing is certain, and that you shouldnt commit to anything until the last minute. Which, when you need to book your time off with the wife, is tricky. I had the weekend arranged months ago, and all that we said we would do is choose something to do as late as possible, to avoid last years wet county weekend.

As the week wore on (and it did wear last week), the weather looked definate. Definately shit! A big bank of wetness was set to sweep east across the country, but as it was a band it would leave Wales first of all, so it had more time to dry out before we got there, and so thats where we went. Only getting out of Sheffield was difficult enough, as it was impossible to get up out of Ranmoor! Down worked, and we were soon on the way.

The cave was busy, and cold. And damp. Although, not so much so that nothing was climbable, and we set about trying to do stuff. I witness a chap making the kneebar look easy on Trigger, some chaps from UKB on the right hand side, and lots of scary wet holds and unexpected dismounts.

Finally manage to close the Left Wall high account, although make no more progress on Trigger. I think i need to be pushed through the move to the shothole a few times, as I just cant do it.

Sunday went to CityBloc for a change. It was cold when we got there, but soon warmed up. The problems are good. I am tired today. Martin Smith is a good climber.

CakeRider

2011-02-15T12:30:00.001Z

It was a funny week last week. Volume of work is ramping up at work, but thats really not very interesting, and as we don't dwell on the humdrum, let's talk about rock climbing. Or at least, a very small amount of rock climbing. And cafes and cake.

On the subject of which, I took my young protege cake testing in the new Oakbrook tea rooms. Which is a nice cafe, new, and on Oakbrook road. It has good coffee, and does homemade cakes. On a lesser, but still important note, it has nice wall paper on one of the walls. I dont think they ran out of money and couldnt afford enough for the other half, more that if you put it everywhere it would look busy and might induce a migraine. What cakes do champs eat? Pecan brownies. What cakes do aging hasbeens eat? Lemon Polenta cake. I took the monster for a coffee on Friday and had a walnut and coffee cake. Polenta was better.

That same day I met with UKB's, and the internet's Italian ambassador - Lorenzo Frusteri. What a nice chap. With wild intense eyes! And re-met Michelle Caminati. We met at the Climbing works, warmed up and then drove out to try lowrider. In short, noone does it, and it was a bit wet. But the interesting thing is that finally I tried it the 'other' way - i.e. feet one side, hands the other - its loads easier! punter! So, three or four times I get to the end, but never do the last move. Its quite annoying that I have had to spend so long going on about it, and walking up that hill, sloshing through the bog to get there and try it a brutal but ultimately duff sequence. Ah well, thats the way it is sometimes.

Sea Fog

2011-02-03T09:24:00.001Z

If climbing on the gritstone can be compared to smoking weed, then the cave must be to climbing what crack (or crystal meth) is to drugs (i imagine). Hard, manufactured, crushing, addictive and with a faint stench of burning plastic. But to the user - its brilliant. And yesterday? soggy.

I wanted to go to a wall somewhere but they persuaded me to stay. It did feel tacky in places, and with a lot of work, and the adoption of far out new techniques such as chalk damming we made it just about climbable. If nothing else, it gave us a leisurely warm up. In the style of Jim, almost right out of the car - Bendy shot across halfway house, a quiet fell as he dropped into the undercut, turned and slapped for the shothole - good effort! but sadly he missed, and this was the best go of the day.

Dylan and I make tries, a bit of progress but noone does it. With so many pads we can make a platform from which to try the top. Its not easy! when you see videos of people doing it, they romp up it when they get the shothole, but its not as easy as it looks.

Jim, meanwhile, has set about Left wall high which is soaking. He manages to make it climbable and busts out some good links. I join him at the end and have to say - I recommend the climbing on this little sideways shuffle - its brilliant.

We leave, broken after a good day and doing some hard moves. Jim and I discuss how the reasons you go climbing dictate whether or not you will like the cave. Adam describes people training on boards as weightlifters, and to some extent thats what cave lovers are. For me, climbing is about pushing myself and doing hard, previously thought impossible moves. I want to feel like i have done something at the end of the day, I want to feel like I have had a workout (hence the weightlifting analogy), but for others thats not the way it works. I suppose we all like to push ourselves, but some revel in the physical challenge of overcoming a sequence of moves you arent strong enough to do at first, and some in solving a technical challenge.

El Roacho

2011-01-31T11:11:00.001Z

The interweb was full of people blathering on about how good the weekend was going to be. You couldnt fail to feel at least a little bit excited by all the hype, and i just hoped the weather delivered on the promise. Which it did. Didnt have time to go to the Roaches, but I went anyway. Its fine to go places and try stuff on your own, but once a week is more than enough, and although it meant i wouldnt have long, I went where my friends were. Glad I did too, as it was a beautiful day to be driving down through staffordshire, que misty eyed daydreaming about living in a farmhouse and having dogs.

Anyway, back in the real world I arrive at bloc centrale and bump into some girls who I always see at the wall. Mild abuse of one another and I do some fun problems to get on it. Meanwhile my chums are nowhere in site. But with good reason, as Ed is having his last go on Tetris, and they have warned its 15 minutes walk from where I am, and in the sun is making it greasy. I set up camp beneath mushin. The last go is enough for Ed, who, like a prize fighter arrives victorious but covered in blood. Videos of this problem look fab - i would be keen to investigate for myself.

Mushin has always been on the list, but its a line of drainage and was wet the only other time I went to the roaches. And I think it might have been a little bit that way on saturday, although its meltwater this time. We start off reaching the jug dish with our left hands and then attempting to toe hook our way out to the right hand jug. I hit the jug a few times, but suspect I am moving too fast to actually hold it should i get there. Try going with the right hand a couple of times, and it takes a bit of work to make any progress, then I manage to get to the left hand dish above, and suprisingly theres a little mono thing in it, and the toes feel better somehow - more straight on perhaps? anyway, so suprised that theres actually a hold up there I dont get it right and fall off. Turns out that this is the way. So, another project added to the list!

To our right a pad hurtles from the top of the crag, bouncing down through the trees as though some hideous accident has taken place, but theres noone attached and its all benign. 'Isn't that stone's pad?' says James, then we realise that there has been a hideous accident, but its one of navigation - Sharples, Rae and Stone all clump down the path towards us, hopelessly lost and in search of a crimp to swivel around on. We set them back on course for Millers Dale and start packing up ourselves. Beautiful day, and -3 just outside of buxton on the way home.

HIgh zoo

2011-01-28T09:38:00.001Z

I always thought caley needed a couple of preceding days of dryness to be worth visiting. So when Thursday started damp I didnt have high expectations. Through the morning I kept making excuses to leave my desk and walk past a window, and suprisingly things looked bone dry. Lunchtime came and off I scuttled to Caley, which had obviously been wet, but felt ok. There was more of a wind than last week, and I thought it felt a bit warmer at first. The wind soon put paid to that, as although the air might have been warmer, it soon stripped you of any body heat. It was hard to warm up, and harder to keep warm. Have come to the conclusion that although in great condition, it may actually have been too cold.

First goes went badly. It hurt to have to bone those little sharp holds. Went off and did some crimping. When I came back, did the top again. Then did it from the undercut move - felt good. Just three moves to put on the start and that was it then...

Got chatting to lad called Si from Middlesborough trying Ben's Groove sitter. This looks ace. very different to Zoo log. Managed to get my interweb scoop filled and we watched the vid of it which is on pootube. THe man who does it there must be both very good and very tall. Anyway, I have a couple of goes where I fall off taking the swing from the cut loose. I'm struggling to make the first toe hook work. I stop the process and take the time to work it out properly - marking the notch so that I can see it when on the problem. Also someone has put chalk marks in the wrong place on the undercut, so i brush these off and put new ones where I use it. More goes take place and I feel like a bit of a warmed up too fast pump, and I decide to pop back to the car for some food and to get a brush.

When I come back up 15 minutes has passed and I am again cold. The next go is rubbish. Wait 4 and back on it. This is the one which should have been. The toe snags behind the undercut perfectly, I am able to drop into the edge perfectly, my fingers arranged in the optimum position - i feel good, the thought dances through my mind that this is the one. I step out and onto the nubbin, bang - up goes my left hand to the tape box edge - got it on three! its ok though, feels like a crimp jug for some reason, I bone it and ninja my right foot into the next toe hook, my left pastes around the arete and I move my hips into balance, this time perfectly finding the point of balance and casually reaching into the high sidepull (at least, thats how it felt!). As I take the hold i have time to settle my fingers perfectly on the hold and I feel attached, dare I say, actually quite good!

Engaging my core I release the toe, and some how I manage to kill the swing, scuffing my right up the wall and placing the heel on the pound coin - is it ok? is it on? dunno, but I dont stop to worry about - go for the move and hit the top left flake - its not quite right, but I have enough - i think, I fight to get it back in control, moving to try and try and mitigate the position and whilst its not perfect, my left is splayed across the hold. I can't bump it or change, but perhaps its enough? I lurch for the right hand intemediate and take it badly, my right foot scuds off the toe hook, with my dying gasp I slap at the top jug and miss! oh Shit! That should have been the one!

back on the mats I am kicking myself. I think thats it basically, I have as good as done it. Surely go down next time wont it? I rest properly, but make mistakes. Goes come and goes go - I look like I am going to do it, and I get worse. Never does everything line up perfectly and I never make it back to this new high point. The tipping point between thrashing myself and making progress passes and I am still deluding myself that I'm in with a chance and its well past the point of sensible stopping when I eventually admit defeat.

On the plus side, when I next get chance I know I can do it, but it would have been nice to have actually got it done. Oh well.

L-L-L-Logridge

2011-01-25T08:42:00.001Z

Logridge - cha cha cha!
Logridge - cha cha cha!
Logriiiidge - cha CHA!

Such myth, hyperbole and vitriol surrounded the place in the week leading to our visit that I wasn't sure whether or not we should even go. However, crossing the peak early on saturday morning it became obvious that the chances of action closer to home were going to be seriously limited by damp.

And anyway, what's better than a guidebook? a tour from a local. And not just any local, but Preston's answer to Peter Andre - the mighty Adam Lincoln. We arrived at a damp crag with damp in the air and damp all around, but the rocks were dry. Ish. It was brutally, mind numbingly cold and for a moment the line between keen and stupid seemed perhaps to already have passed.

Adam demonstrated the proud independant line which is the eponymous 'Vickers eliminate' before our hard wired quality control kicked in and over rode the desire not to fail. We moved to the business end and investigated big marine, then submarine then super submarine. Big Marine is ok - everyone romped up it. Submarine is about 8b+ and even Adam had to have a few goes. Super Submarine - hmm. I think its possible. Hard, but feasible. Noone does it.

Boasting some of the 'best movement' on the crag, we move right to Rupert's In Excess sitter. The hype is justified, its a bit damp, but the combination of wide pinches, slopers and drop knees gets our interest, and we both manage it. This is a good problem. Next we do Delta Force which I think we both flash?

I have a quick look at the pot of gold start to Colon Power, but its unpleasant, and success revolves around a factor of your willingness to lurch from a wedged knuckle to a jug. Finish with a quick rumble along the Bend of the Rainbow, which is as fun now as it was 18 years ago when I first tried it.

So who was right? what was the verdict - were the doubters on the money or is this a gem in the crown of lancashire? We had a fun day out and big props to the Lincolnator for showing us around (and Grimer and Dribble, I have things for you) but in many ways the advice was right - if you are in the area its good, and if i lived there I would be all over the place, but I dont think I would recommend driving all the way from Sheffield especially.

calog

2011-01-21T08:00:00.001Z

There used to be something we called the 'January two week weather window', only the month could've been dropped as it kept moving about. But now I feel like weather patterns are so out of kilter that I dont know if we still get that and as to when, well - its anybody's guess. This week has certainly had potential, although, its felt like perhaps its condensing - things in the shade stay wet, and flat surfaces feel damp.

There's been little to write about of late, as I've been indoors, scuttling around on the board and whilst some wild new shapes have been created and radical moves thrown down, this doesnt make for interesting reading. Had been supposed to go to the cave yesterday, but with people posting on the interweb that they had ended up at the wall the day before, and Doyle not having eyewitness accounts, we sacked it. To Caley.

It felt like a treat not to have to sit through the a55 boredom. The excited babbling on the way there, the broken mono-syllabic muttering on the way back. Brown rocks instead of white, slabs and aretes instead of ribs and rooves. Finesse instead of Force!

Gritstone was a harsh skin wake up call - blimey! And it was brutally cold, but totally dry and possibly the best nic I have had Caley in. Tops of boulders had not frost, but a cold suggestion of moisture, so topping out was fine - you didnt need to resort to Bradbury tactics, but felt a bit spicy. Thankfully, topping out wasnt going to be a problem.

As is the law, we started out down at Fingerknacker crack and Rabbit Paw wall. What a charming rock climb. As Ned pointed out - its jugs up a wall - whats not to like? We moved straight up to the main event and found some other cave regulars up there. Bendy busted out Ben's Groove, Ned followed - Me and Jim floundered. Jim and Ned tried Secret Seventh, Ned did it. Ben and Ned start working the BG sitter. I move to Zoo York. I feel stronger and more capable than last year. The moves feel harder, but I am doing them and keeping going rather than being in extremis on every one.

You know when you are trying something and it goes from you doing some moves to actually having the concept of doing it? when you can actually concieve of doing that day? well that happened yesterday. Two or three times I climbed from the ground up into the top cut loose and either fell trying to get the heel in place, or fluffed the cut - whatever, anyway, got hugely excited about the prospect of doing it and am keen to get back. By god its sharp though!

Felt like a wonderful afternoon, and one with the promise of actually acheiving something. The crag hitched up its skirts and I saw the promised land. I didnt manage to get there, but I got an idea about how it looks - and I liked it! I enjoyed myself so much I wondered how I could do it more often, but when thinking about that this morning I realised that precisely the reason it felt so special was that it was a treat and that I dont get to do it all the time.

Cognitive Boning Therapy

2011-01-04T15:55:00.001Z

Some of my friends have been experiencing motivational lulls. One such person sent me a message to ask how I managed to maintain my own enthusiasm, and I started to reply, but then Doylo posted about his own apathy, and I thought it might be of interest to a wider audience, so here follows some of my philosophy on the subject :

Climbing, although fun is not all there is to life. It can appear to be, and perhaps it will be for a few years, but ultimately it doesnt fill all the gaps. If you always eat cake, then cake ceases to become a treat. So dont always eat cake. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. If I always appear psyched when I am climbing its because I dont always get to go whenever I want to, so that when I do its a treat - of course I'm in a good mood!

If you do feel down in the dumps about it all, dont sweat it, just go and do something else for a bit. Part of climbing and climbing hard teaches us not to lie down and accept defeat, to battle on when the chips appear to be down and the quest hopeless, so your instinct is to push on even when you dont really feel like trying, but... there's a difference between going and training when its cold and rainy and you cant be bothered to making yourself try to be psyched for something that you arent really bothered about. Your heart wont be in it, and at your limit it needs to be to summon the force to do the deed.

Goals are important to maintaining psyche levels, and goals should be achievable, stretching and measurable. For instance, me saying that I want to do Voyager would certainly be stretching, and measurable, but perhaps not acheivable. If I said I wanted to do the Green Traverse then this would certainly be acheivable but its not a stretch. You get the picture. When I went to swiss before xmas I wanted to do three things, and I set my heart on them - I studied the videos on the interweb and watched what others had done and then when I got there thats what I did. I had a goal, I trained specifically and I was lucky and it paid off.

If you feel uninspired, a trip is a great thing to give you something to get excited about, but sometimes the lull runs deeper and maybe you need to walk away and do something else for a bit. If its true love then you'll be back!

(am full of cold and havent been climbing since before xmas)

Santa's Grotto

2010-12-16T09:11:00.001Z

Thick snow blanketed all of our crags, but just as quickly as it arrived (possibly quicker) it was gone. The difference between snow levels on Thursday and Friday of last week was astronomical. On saturday you would have had to persuade that it had snowed at all. Made it out on Sunday. It was never going to be a high octane sending session. I'd driven up to Hooks Carr on Saturday night just to see if Ringinglow road was open, which it was, but there was fog around and no wind. Wasnt bothered really, just wanted to end my spell of fantastic plastic by touching rocks. I suspect this was a common theme as the mood at the Plantation was one of light hearted sociability. Pottered around, tried Help the young sitter a bit. My celebrity Belayer becomes celebrity Beta database when its bouldering season, and with his help I think its possible. I get off home to roast things and drink red wine.

With everything else being wet again, and having an afternoon off there was only one option. Thankfully plenty of other people share my longings to scuttle around in the back of a cave on the Orme, so I wasnt alone. The cave is brilliant. I dont care what you think, I love it. The moves are brilliant, the potential persuading and the scene scintillating. It was really nice to see Ben P again, who has been avoiding me since switzerland because of the pounding he was subjected to. Three teams - two young lads I have seen about but dont know names of, Team Dylog - Dylog, Joel and Bendy and Team Dobolog - me and Jim.

Of course we made the obligatory detour to 'dudno Asda. I bought a healthy options chicken fajita and waited for Jim. I thought he was taking a long time, then I saw why, the sight before me left me speechless - Jim waddled out of the sliding doors with armfuls of rotisserie barbecue chicken! How the honest people of Llandudno reconciled a metric tonne of flat cap wearing Hillyard I will never know. I suspect the samaritans are busy this morning.

Like a true caveman Jim tears into a haunch of barbecue chicken, watching the spider like form of Joel wisping effortlessly up Trigger Cut. Good effort! Dylog does Louie. Boy band member also does it. Jim and I get shown some of the lip problems which we have never done before. I start working left wall high, which is suprisingly good.

iMeddler

2010-12-08T08:25:00.000Z

I have decided. An iPhone is an excellent all the things a phone isnt. Its like having a small tablet PC in your pocket. The browsing experience really is brilliant. If you want to go on the internet then look no further (unless you wanted flash), its amazing. Occasional internet use - throw the laptop away. Actually stops me opening the browser at work, which can only be a good thing.

If you are on your own at the climbing wall then its brilliant. This is where it beats any other phone hands down - on a normal phone, you text all your mates and then put it away. Nothing to see here. The iPhone is the friend of the meddler, its something to fanny with between circuits, laps or whatever you are doing.

But, there are many things I took for granted with my beloved BlackBerry that I miss. And when I say I have decided, what I mean is that the BlackBerry is without doubt a better telephone. Its thought out around being a telephone (that does email) and it does this brilliantly. Things like being able to click on the person in a text and it rings them. Being able to attach multiple images to an email, cut and paste works better, the flashing red light, better battery life and better signal, UMA.

It all depends on what you'll do with it. But like when you buy a faster car you drive faster, if you have the interweb then you use it and wonder how you did without. What I'm saying is that it changes how you use your phone and what you expect from it.

Would I buy one again? maybe. Would I recommend you buy one? well that depends on you.

Final swiss roundup

2010-12-01T13:21:00.001Z

Well, fritag was hurty as predicted. Everyone felt broken, and it would have been too much to ask for us to do anything noteworthy to be honest. Started with Bendy doing Vol au Vent which is the worlds hardest 7a+ , then we moved round to Franks, which I read Mina has just done - which is another great effort - she really is climbing brilliantly at the moment. Better than us too, as we couldnt do it - noone held the match without a supportive spot, or winch in place. Its a great problem though, and I would really like to do it. .Made progress from previous years I suppose, in that I used to take the pinch and basically fall off. Now I was taking the pinch, walking my feet through and getting back to the heel, but it felt shit - I wasnt getting anything off it and attempts at matching resulted in headfirst plummets. I think perhaps its one to do a bit earlier in the trip next time.

We walked on to Il Partner. Mina and I had been chatting about which was prettier, cresc or chironico. She said cresc, i said Chironico. I almost texted her after we had walked through Cresicano, because suddenly i got it, I was reminded of how lovely it is at Cresciano, its just the mountains you can see more clearly from chironico. So, I dont actually know which I like more, just nice to be away isnt it? Anyway, Bernd Zangerl turned up at Il Partner. We spoke to him - its scary up there. Noone did it. On to La Boule to finish off again. Still couldnt do the move rightwards on la boule itself, but managed to drag self up La Boulette. Felt pooped. Went and looked at La Proue. I think if ever there was an 8b I could do, that this might be it! another trip maybe.

Get home, flights and everything are all fine, but its actually colder here than it was there I think! And theres more shitty death snow!

Bendy has an iPhone4, and I became jealous in the week away. So I bought one. Its very good, but has some draw backs. I have to learn to use the on screen keyboard, although it is pretty good, and i am already getting faster. The Notifications thing is annoying. It pings up in the middle of what you are doing and if you are typing quickly then you get all gobbledegooked. Signal is definately weaker than on a blackberry. Havent had the grip of death thing yet though. I dont like that you cant completely control it, but when a jailbreak exists, i might go this route. On the plus side, its beautifully made, and the screen is possibly the ninth wonder of the world.

Swizzle

2010-11-26T07:58:00.001Z

Everything aches and we all feel like we creak as we hobble around on sore feet. We've all got either hurty skin or actual holes, and the prospect of going climbing again is somewhat abhorrent!

So, it must have been sunday when I last wrote. I'd just done the alphane moon and those two were looking hopeful. Monday everything was soaking everywhere so we went back to am as it was dry. We all did arabald (7b) to warm up and those two made progress. I didn't climb on the alphane moon again (for obvious reasons).

Tuesday was the first of the mint days. Drove back to chironico and went to centrale to warm up, then I tried serre moi forte. Which is the hardest problem in the world. Ben P did cliques a claques. Walked out to freak brothers - wet, then on to no mystery/schule des lebens. Gangle did no mystery. Thought I could do it but didn't.

Wednesday, brione. Frogger was wet, ganymede start driable but wet really. Pamplemousse looked implausible. Some international dudes turned up and did ganymede and pamplemousse - one of them was michel caminati - he climbs 8c. I hurt, and was lying in the sun, but they made it look so easy I had to have a go. I knew I could do it and waited for them to go before doing so. James looked possible, ben's elbones hurt and he stopped. Brione is lovely. Stopped somewhere on the way back down and then went to the pizza shop to celebrate.

Thursday, yesterday - felt good. Went back to finish serre moi forte. All do papa razzi (7a), bp does cliques a claques again, none of the rest of us can do it. Serre moi forte holds out, although I do manage to get out of the sitter into the stand, but am unable to link it. Two sections. Very hard. Went round to the alphane moon - those two make progress, and james has a great link towards the end of the session and it looks on, but he fades. Go back to freak bros which is now dry, but flippin desperate. Suspect not warm and feeling it as would be my thing another time. I'd be keen to go back on it.

Today, last chance saloon. I'd like to do no mystery. Cresciano.

The Jippy scuttler

2010-11-22T07:20:00.001Z

It felt brutal getting up at 0350. I rolled out of bed and tried to shake it off. It wouldn't go, and I felt terrible. Nauseous, bleary,cold. Dressed, kissed the monster goodbye and headed out to join Ben in his van. Thick fog shrouded everything in gloom, and we both felt ill. The drive and journey was all fine. I would write more about it, but am tapping this in from my blackberry and there's more interesting things to talk about than travelling.

We arrive, check in and discover dai koyamada staying next door. Haven't actually seen him yet. Didn't climb saturday afternoon for two reasons - one: we all felt shocking, and two: it was filthy anyway. Made dylan's legendary chorizo stew, everyone very impressed (thanks dylog!) And collapsed in a heap.

Sunday dawned and the sleety death rain battered on the windows. Brilliant we collectively thought. Just brilliant. With no urgency we breakfasted and slithered in the snow up to chironico. Couldn't even get the hire car up the flippin road. Didn't think we'd be climbing so just had a walk up to find the alphane moon, which is a dave graham problem which stays dry. Amazingly, it was. I can't really articulate just how wet everything else was - fully and totally soaking, constant rain and snow - none of which was there the day before. So, we went and got the stuff. Since more people had now tried the road now had tracks, and we decided to move the car. Fiat doblo's are shit in the snow.

I'm really excited about this problem. It looked like it would really play to my strengths, I honestly thought I could do it. We started trying. As there were no other dry holds, so we had to monkey around on the start to get warmed up. Two or three easy moves on jugs lead to a series of long should presses between crimps. Dave, gangle and their dutch friend michael turn up. I'd researched this problem and commited the sequence to memory having watched the internet and doyles film over and over. Landing is a bit more spicy than you'd think having seen that though!

There's a heartbreaker of a move right near the end which I knew would be a problem. Its awkward, insecure and requiring you to sort of lurch in off a straight arm. I kept getting to it and failing as expected. But I knew I could do it, and thankfully managed to do so just before beginning the downward curve of performance trajectory.

James and ben make progress, but ben is injured and james starts to go backward. We go home, eat tea, drink beer and watch east bound and down on ben's laptop - which is brilliant by the way. When he told me about it I thought it sounded awful, but it was actually really good.

As predicted, the appetite for typing on this thing has worn thin. Its chucking it down again, and we're in bed drinking tea reading. I think its supposed to stop raining later today, then tomorrow and the rest of the week looks amazing. Fingers crossed!

Project management

2010-11-16T08:09:00.001Z

Mismanagement. Thats been the problem with me and lowrider. I kept thinking i was going to do it so I never stepped back and looked at the bigger picture. Because i kept nearly doing it, so I never took the time to work out why these goes to the end never amounted to anything.

You should be reading this nursing sore and thin fingertips. I'm not. Got called out saturday morning and had to spend three hours on an incident call, so missed my slot. Raced up to Stanage far end for about 1500, and got involved. Shot my bolt, warmed up too quickly and kept getting to the end but being a bit pumped and being unable to hold on. I think it might also have been condensing a bit too. Oh well. Worked out that my left leg has been getting stuck beneath the prow on the very last move, and that i need to move my hips right.

Meanwhile Ed does Brass Monkeys, and James gets close. Junior Hammertime has done Mecca! i think this is three 'days', but one of them he had no beta and was only on it 15 minutes, so two real days i guess. Well good effort, and is that quicker than Elie Chevieux? I have it in my head he might have been three days or something. Whatever, great effort Junior Hamertime!

Sunday, she's in a right pickle, so I clean and bake and do housey stuff. Oh, and the wood burner is blazin squad all day. M.i.n.t. Theres a time and place for a lazy day, and I dont think it would have been great on the rocks, so that was it.

Ned and I hatch plans to do Zoo York. I'm well keen. We talk about what else I would like to have on my list, and so far obvs there's LowRider. Then I would like to do the help the young sit. Then Full power. I like to have aspirations, and I think those are fairly realistic, but if i have learnt one thing in all my years of trying, its that having goals which arent just acheivable, but doable in a session is worth a lot. But we cant think of any 7c's.

Actually, since writing that I think of Pogles wood? whats that like? perfect day? Ben's wall. The reclimbed walk on by.... Your thoughts?!

LoneRider

2010-11-08T11:44:00.001Z

Commitment is getting out of a warm bed at 0600, struggling into a cold damp wetsuit and yomping accross dewy grass towards the beach in the twilight. Its slogging uphill through a bog with two pads on your back, the wind biting at your face when you should really be having a lie in, and all to get the best conditions. Commitment is not succeeding at either of these ventures, but still going back and doing it again the next week in the hope that things will work out different.

It feels like I have been getting to the end of Lowrider for years. Getting to the end of, but never doing. I've been up there at 0700 before work, I've stumbled back down on my own, in the dark after work and almost all the times I've tried i've thought i would do it on another go. So after Saturday's apparent progress I'm not getting duped - i've been here before. However, where before there's been doubt, and a feeling that I would just have to man up, i've reduced my power sapping easy to fluff sequence to a more moves, but more assured one.

It really looked good for Saturday. The problem was that by the time I had it figured (this new beta), I had blunted my edge. I had four or five 'redpoints' which finished with me matched on the top rail, staring at the jug. On two of them I lurched jugwards before failing, and on one of those I actually got a hand to it but still fell off! The hopeful optimistic in me says - this was because you fannied around working it out for too long. And the Bennett says that we've been here before, and that it doesnt mean anything.

I keep farting this morning.

2010-11-04T09:35:00.001Z

"Electric Log splitters?" I spluttered to Foundry Aiden... I couldnt believe my ears. Why would any chap wantonly eschew the paraphernalia associated with log preparation? And a chap with a canadian other half too. Thankfully, she had the decency to look horrified and start inching away from him, as logging is part of their genetic makeup. I launched into a tirade about the various hardware items I now need to own - I bet Jim has a wood grenade, must ask him.

I have my celebrity belayer back. Now with added 8b tick, and not just one but two. The little runt. I remember the days when I used to burn him off, and now the ginger ninja seems to have forgotten his place in this pecking order. Rest assured I dazzled him with my skillz at the Foundry, and I think he went home suitably impressed. "Ned" I said, "its not about how many heel hooks you can pull, or even the crimps you can bone, what really matters is the moves you throw down on the wave" - food for thought I'm sure you agree.

This is funny. Whilst having my breakfast this morning I stumbed across this post on UKB - it points to some wierd blog someone has set up, but read through the list as its quite funny - particularly when you get to the uncool list....

White edge

2010-11-02T07:52:00.001Z

More stories have been proved accurate. Years ago Neil Bentley said
that the groove hurt your leg, and i thought he meant cos of some
jagged edge that dug into your flesh, or maybe that the deep egyptian
hurt your joints or something, but thats not what he meant at all. The
first 'arse bar' is fine, you sort of flick one buttock into the
groove, wedge it there and stuff two fingers into an undercut pocket.
This gives enough respite to be able to torque the left knee down into
a mega egyptian. From here I've been trying to basically hop up the
groove, which has proved to be fully desperate. I spoke to Char about
this, and thats not what he did. He told me to watch the
Littlefair/Heap video on Vimeo (sorry for no link, am at work and cant
check it), and what Rich does, is takes the egyptian out, essentially
matches feet, then steps right up, left back out and then does the
egyptian again. So that is what I think I need to start doing when I
next go.

I learnt another important lesson on Saturday, and that was that you
need to take the right shoes if you are to succeed. One of the whites
had fallen out of my bag in the house somewhere, so I had to make do
with velcros. Now, these are a great shoe, but softer and even with an
edge they flop around on those edges in the groove like clown shoes.

Had a nice morning though. Felt good, tor was in good nic just the
wrong shoes this time. Maybe one day all the planets will align and a
crow with the head of an elephant will swoop upon the tor and success
will be mine. Just another seven years to go...

The rest of the weekend was spent living like a lord. Its a wonder I
dont have gout now (not to sure of the symptoms, so may actually have
it anyway). Friday night chippy, Saturday night Cricket Inn, Sunday
breakfast in sainsburys cafe and then massive roast lamb dinner at
home. So hungover on Sunday morning. Touch and go for a while there.
We walked to get the car back, and for at least half of it I really
didnt want to be there. Then like a switch had been flicked, I started
feeling human again - totally out of nowhere. Really strange, but
fine, if thats how it is, thats not a problem.

A couple of weeks ago, those nice people at Vodafone sent me a
BlackBerry torch, which is the latest and greatest from the BlackBerry
people. Its got a touch screen, but also a physical slide out
keyboard, so on paper at least it should be the ideal device for me.
Perhaps because I am used to my old BB I am struggling a bit to get
into it - it annoys me that I have to do something to get to the
keyboard, and the recessed nature of the keyboard makes it take a bit
of getting used to. Basically I cant type as fast as normal and its
annoying. On the other hand, browsing experience is really good, and
its nice to have a bigger screen. So i'm wavering again this morning.
Had i not landed on it at the climbing works and broken the battery
door, I think I would try it again.

Breakthrough!

2010-10-25T08:33:00.000+01:00

I was just playing before. I dont think I actually wanted to do the route - I mean, it looks great and so on, but I was scared of the top, and I didnt really think it was possible. People kept on at me to stop working the bottom bit and get stuck into the top, as even though its supposedly easier, you need to have it wired. The route requires a shift in attitude for me - one must actually embrace the idea of trying hard above the bolts and the possibility of falling off, and Saturday saw a big change...

But not just in terms of my progress on Mecca. I'd supposed to have been going surfing with Edlog. The charts and forecasts were checked, refreshed and checked again before finally, the advice was not to go. By the time we'd have gotten there, it would have gone to shit. Now I love the tor, and when I know I'm going, I get thinking about what I want to do and get my head in the right space for it. When you have gotten yourself excited about one thing (surfing in this case), enthusiasm doesnt just switch to its replacement activity. So, it took some time to get motivated.

As I minced up the path with a coffee, a glum faced queen of the tor (Rae) stood beneath the pinches wall with the Mighty Lion Paw (Sharples). These two Tor stalwarts did not look keen either. It was cold, raining, and Paul Reeve had a t shirt and shorts on! All chatted, then they went off to try Culloden. Ethan and his dad turn up. I do the Bear Claw at long last. Tried for the first time in new Teams. What good shoes these are. People seem a bit down on them, and yes - they are very hard to get on, but when they are on I think they are really good. Ted arrives, and inspires some enthusiasm in me trying 'the route'.

Paul is on Mecca extension. I think I'm off the hook, but he wont hear of it. He proclaims it perfect conditions, but says that he feels shit and pulls his rope. I get set up. Blimey, it does feel good. Typically, i'm not listening to those who have won their battles, who tell me to get on the top bit, and am trying from the ground again. It does feel good, but my fingers are a bit cold, and cranking through the start bulge, the grips feel amazing, but I feel a bit tweaky. I actually think I would have gotten into the groove that first go, but the sun had come out. I dont mean it had gone hot, far from it - I mean that I couldnt see the footholds in the glare! I flump off, then monkey up to the top of the groove to put the next bolt in.

Its well bolted Mecca. All the bolts are in good places, and in the only places you could use them. However, if you are working it from above, the line pulls you away from where you need to be, particularly when you want to work the groove. On this first session I feel good and everything, but the top of the groove is totally impossible. I cannot get out at all. Its desperate. I come down and cant ever forsee of what I need to do.

Ted gives me a pep talk and eventually I agree to try again, but this time, monkey up the draws to the start of the groove. I stick the belay and rumble to the top - which is ok. I suppose its the fear of the unknown that makes me wimp out of even trying. With the belay clipped I place another draw on an old death bolt to the right - this makes the rope I am on run perfectly down the groove. I come back to the top of the groove, and Ted coaches (or perhaps coaxes) me out of it. Ted's knowledge and enthusiasm is the perfect tonic for a limp sequence and a wet day. He knows not only how he did it, but also how everyone else does. He soon works me out a method and I go from it feeling impossible at the start of the session, to not only having a sequence, but actually having executed it, climbing out of the groove to the top of the route.

I cant emphasise how important this is! I now actually have a chance. I now actually want to do it, and am starting to believe i could. I think had I had it worked out earlier in the day, I could actually have done the link i was trying, which was from the move into the groove to the top. Is it on? more work needed, better fitness etc, but in theory - yes!

Britain's strongest Pathologist turns up and starts working on Keen Roof. He's a nice chap Tim Palmer, and brutally strong too. I hear on the grapevine that he actually does it later that day as well - so good effort Tim!

Edlog and I leave the tor malnourished and tired. We go up to Neil's wall. He has different foot beta, but I totally cant remember what you do with the top sloping death rail. After some skin grinding attempts I manage to get to the top from the sitter, but cannot match. My tip splits and we decide to bail. I have had an amazing day, and fall asleep with dreams of Mecca, the groove and a complicated leg intensive sequence.

Typically, I have climbed the loggest day of the weekend. Sunday is beautiful, and I make a woodstore and a roast for the outlaws. Today is also beautiful, only I understand that theres a chance of rain moving in later. This is the last week before the clocks change, so after work action really will be a thing of the past next week. Most people I know are in Font.

Cumberland Grit

2010-10-21T08:41:00.001+01:00

Starting back at Stanage is very different to starting back at School
was. I am excited for one. One of the great things about living in the
UK, and particularly the Peak national park is the variety of rock
climbing on ones doorstep. In spring I long to get involved with the
sharp crimps on the limestone, in autumn I remember how to mantle.

If my spindly sport climbing legs would have let me, I would have run
up to the plantation. But walking around with pads on felt like hard
work after a summer of stumbling to the tor with just a rope. Few cars
in the car park, and something in my heart said that the ace/joker
would be occupied. Sixth sense didnt go so far as to tell me who would
be there, just that someone would. You'd have thought that those
crimps would be unusable in the sun, but two people were indeed there,
and as I drew closer the blobs became shapes, and slowly the bushy
black thatches of Constance Variable and Cave legend Davies took form.
They were trying the Ace, and not doing very well to be honest.

Although in the sun, the wind was bitter. I'd guess temps were around
5 or 6 degrees. Pretty much perfect to be honest. Pottering around
warming up, you needed a coat on between goes, but it felt brilliant
padding up slabs, remembering how to trust ones feet again.

Joining Dan and Chris at the Ace, chris is about to go. Ryan turns up.
I have a few goes on the joker. For me to climb this problem I have to
try quite hard. This means I have to commit to snagging the top with
my left - which is scary. If you were to plot intent against attempts
then you would see early attempts with no actual intention of holding
the top, its all about seeing how it feels. Then once it shows a bit
of promise ("let dog see rabbit") I get excited and start trying
properly. Thing is with that problem is that to do it (as we have
already said), you have to commit to the left hand sloper. If you do
that it changes your trajectory such that you arc out over the death
gully, and you save yourself by grabbing with the right hand, only you
might not get it and that will end in a plummet. So you need a spotter
too really. I didnt just have spotters, I had spotters who had climbed
8c+. Perhaps not the best choice of spotter, as presumably a less
able, but fatter chap would do a better job of stopping ones
earthbound bulk.

They started working the sitter (yes, the sitter. Climbing out of the
cave. It looks hard), and i went to go and 'do' Help the Young sit.
Took me about 15000 goes to repeat the stand (brilliant problem), then
I felt like i was running out of skin, and beans, so I went back to
the Ace to meet them. They were going anyway, so I waited to walk down
together.

Couldnt decide where to go next. It was about quarter past five and I
had perhaps another hour before it went fully dark, so i needed
something near and ideally that I hadnt done. Ended up going to Spring
Voyage, where i met old school hero Robin Barker. Excellent I thought,
this means I can see how its done and get it sewn up quickly. Which
isnt how it worked out - has this gotten harder? I'm sure I remember
getting up to that sloping crimp rail loads of times in a session when
I have tried this before, but it felt desperate and a real struggle.
Neither of us did it, but with aid Rob managed the top (i.e from crimp
rail to top). Consoled myself (and tried to warm up) by doing the
dyno.

Blimey it was cold. When I got back to the car it said just 1.5
degrees! I would like to say 'lets hope this is the start of a great
winter' but its raining this morning, and supposedly will be until
Sunday. Its only 1815 when I get back to the car, so I pop to the
Climbing works to gloat that I have been out. Am more tired than I
gave myself credit for and flump around falling of the jugs for half
an hour before admitting defeat and going home to eat sausages. MMMMM,
sausages!

d5 damager, power to the people

2010-10-19T10:01:00.001+01:00

Its not that nothing's happened since we last spoke, just that nothing
you'd want to read about. Far be it from me to make judgements about
what you do and don't want to read - i mean, a whole load of people
actually buy the daily mail, so you'd be suprised what people do want
to read, and hence here's a little note to brighten your Tuesday
morning. Or, plunge you into a pit of self loathing and despair (based
on how good i am and that you aren't me).

On wednestag Dylog and I went out. It was a beautiful autumnal
afternoon, but still with a bit too much warmth in the direct sun,
which of course Mecca would be in. I wanted to go to Sean's roof to do
that Banks problem to the left. It was wet. As was Sean's. Some
discussions about where it starts and hold investigations. Then I
remembered about Neil's wall, and Smitton's 8a.nu scorecard comment -
'soft as sin'. If ever there's something to galvanise the loins its
the prospect of an easy 8a, and Dylan hadnt been and could do that
Beginners wall thing.

I put the clips in BW and set off. The holds didnt feel as good as I
remembered, and I gave up attempting to stab my hand into the dogs
mouth pocket at the end of the hard bit. Dylog had a go and fluffed it
as well. I went back up and did it this time. Lowered off. Dylog did
it as well, and then I got involved with Neil's wall. Did it from
stand, and very nearly from sitting. Sadly, its not 8a. Neil Travers
is a full legend though, and no stranger to 8a, so I can only imagine
he either did it with his eyes shut or new footholds have been
uncovered since then. It started to bite, so I left it for another day
and we went to the tor.

Which was in a strange state. It was cool out of the sun, but it wasnt
out of the sun - and the rocks still felt warm. Ok, it wasnt bad, and
certainly someone competent who know what they were doing could have
done Mecca, but thats not me. Although I did reach a new high point -
which was one hand in the groove. Fun afternoon though. Problem is
that it goes dark at 1830, but the crag is too warm until 1700!
Although, it is supposedly cooler this week, so maybe. Actually, the
all important breeze wasnt present, and as time went on it looked like
there was mist forming in the valley.

There are no tales of further glory at the hands of the Tor this
weekend, as I have been off having my picture taken. No, its not a
repeat of 2008's modelling debut, rather my mum's 60th birthday
present - a deeply shameful family photograph. Oh god. I could only
think of zoolander as it happened, and suspect i may have been pouting
and looking rather less than fabulous. When I get to see something of
the pictures I will post them.

So a weekend of drinking and lard really. Went back on the board last
night, and was shit. Its good that board though. Hooray for winter.
Man, the works was well busy. My little oasis of calm remains quiet,
but by 1900 the place was teeming. Anyway, back out again this
wednesday, and theres potential for thursday too. This weekend, I need
to catch up with Edlog, as there might be something going on there as
well.

Finally, I might buy a Volvo V70 D5. Am shopping....

Charcca

2010-10-12T09:15:00.000+01:00

Can't believe I forgot to mention, that Char did Mecca on Sunday!

Its a bit with mixed feelings I report this news, as in part, my mecca
chum has now done it and wont want to go on it again, but also I am
off the hook - its scary and now I dont have to be brave.

Solid as a rock according to Pennells (last night at the wall). I
better get my finger out!

Prison Bloc

2010-10-12T08:27:00.003+01:00

There is something menacing about the tower which stands over Strangeways. Like an Orwellian overseer, its gaze unflinching, never sleeping - the all seeing eye forgetting nothing... I'm getting carried away, Its just a structure of bricks and mortar after all. But these thoughts fluttered around as I walked back from the station holding my coffee. It was 0830 on Saturday morning, and I was waiting for Rockover climbing (herethereafter referred to as Prison Bloc) to open its doors. Which was, in itself, a shame. Nice day saturday turned out to be, but Jordan had invited me to be part of their team, and I couldn't let him down.

Officially, I have retired from comps, dismissing them as 'for kids'. Thing is, I thought the chances of loads of good people going to this one would be smaller, and that I might do well, and there's nothing like the promise of glory to reawaken ones interest. Barrans and Johnny P were the obvious ones I wasn't going to beat, but beyond that, things looked hopeful. Jordan and I surveyed the task ahead. Everything looked quite hard - where were the giveaways? got chatting to Cassidy - he's going to quit climbing walls and start converting vans for a living. And, pointed out the easy ones. Which looked dropable.

Climbing started, and we flashed our way through the back corridor. People were actually falling off some of these problems, so already it was unlikely I was going to be last (yes! get in!). Quallies require more strategy than may first appear obvious. Don't completely warm up, as some of the easier problems should continue your preparation. You need to go round and identify the hard ones before you do anything. Work out which ones arent going to get climbed by anyone - and which ones you think you can do. Look also for those with conditions dependant holds on, and get these done early. What you need to work out is what standard everyone else is at, and what you will need to do to get in the final.

Say what you want about Gaz Parry (he looks like David Dickenson and eats Pork pies) but he is a savvy competitor. Watch him in comps and he races round picking off the problems, finishing early and leaving a longer rest. He is also a very good climber, so he doesnt make mistakes, and those "shouldnt fall off" difficulty ones? well, he doesn't fall off. Which is the central reasoning behind my not doing comps anymore. I spend the following three or four days frustrated and kicking myself about my silly mistakes. I climbed well, but as always, there were errors. For instance, there was one problem where I set off when someone else was in the way. I thought they would be out of the way in time, but they started fannying around and I greased off whilst waiting. Error.

I say I could have done better, and that I was/am frustrated, but I was knackered when climbing finished, so i must have been trying hard. Mixed feelings as they announced the results. I was tired and didnt know if i could climb again, I was partly frustrated to have missed the proper final by one point, but mainly proud to have gotten through to something. Although, as Folog charitably pointed out - there are no 'names' in the list below me. (Effort to Rich Sharpe!)

Finals are an interesting showcase of ones ability to perform under pressure. I dont have it. Totally misread the problem and failed early which will have cost me places. Jordan on the other hand, he went up as a result of both being good at showing off, and having better fitness (and being a better climber). Naomi also made the finals and looked to be climbing really well. Predictably, the unstoppable machine which is Barrans won. Second, comping's nicest man Jonny P.

Finally, a word about Shauna. Amazing. She won the lady comp comfortably - is a very good climber.

Surf rat

2010-10-07T09:23:00.001+01:00

After we went to Islay I had a weekend at home, then I went off down to Bracknell to go on a course. This was frustrating, because through no more serious effort than following the Twyford plan (i.e. not eating bread), I was down to a svelte 11st3lbs, and climbing well. I'd not tried to get my weight down, but I had been just avoiding bread which does seem to work. So, i'm all light and strong and everything, then I toddle off down to a hotel and undo this good fortune with lard. Ah well, easy come easy go I suppose.

Breakfast in the hotel was £16!!! I know I'm not paying, but £16!! so I felt I had to make the most of it and piled my plate high with various cooked meat products. I love breakfast, its probably one of my favourite meals, but starting the day feeling so full you might be a bit sick is perhaps taking things to excess.

Courses provide lunch. Which is usually congealed egg mayonaise sandwiches and/or sausage rolls. Deathy. This course laid on a full cooked dinner! So lunch was bad as well. Then of course, because I was staying in a hotel, I couldnt cook or anything, and Tea was deathy as well. I basically had three full cooked dinners every day for a week! Like I say, easy on, easy off (hopefully).

Made it to Craggy island on the Wednesday evening and had fun (and pizza). The bouldering is quite a small area, but the setting was good, and unlike before - not everyone was a punter, which was disappointing. I visit these southern climbing walls under two guises, firstly to go climbing, and secondly because you quite often do everything, burn everyone off and get to feel like a hero for all of ten minutes.

The course finished at 1400 on friday, and I drove home. This mundane detail is going somewhere, I promise. I get home at 1800. Its poured with rain the whole way. I unpack the car, throwing my stuff in the porch of our house, and I bundle my wetsuit, board and a sleeping bag back in the boot. I dont even bother with a change of clothes - am going to be living like a rat in the car - i won't need them! The Wifelet is wedged in the passenger seat and at 1930 we set off again. Phew. This time our destination is Bristol. In spite of surface water we make it there for just before 2300 and have a couple of beers. Get to bed at 0100.

She's staying in Brizzle with her friend Frankie. My alarm beep beeps all too early (0600), and I roll out of bed, back into last nights clothes and the car. Which rolls off down the motorway to Devon. Its ten to eight when I am suited up, trotting across the sand with a lump of fibreglass under my arm.

I'd just like to briefly visit the excitement as I crested the hill before Woollacoombe and caught sight of the ocean for the first time that day. Clear long lines stacked back across the surface of the water - it looked so clean! I could barely keep my right foot off the accelerator as I dropped into the town. I wouldnt say it looked huge, but it did look clean.

How wrong I was. The time now said it was 0930, which meant I had been trying to get out for an hour and a half. All I had so far managed was a number of near death experiences and to drink a lot of sea water. At one point I was level with someone riding in, about 20 metres to my right, and as the surfer turned in at the bottom of the wave, he was completely stood up, looking back UP towards the peak, which was at least 2ft over head. Basically, it was bigger and harder than I have ever been out in.

A combination of amateur duck dives and paddling like my life depended on it (felt like it did at times) got me out back. Set after set rolled by whilst I tried to recover. My arms and shoulders felt anhiliated. Finally my time came, and I took my chance... Glancing over my shoulder as I paddled frantically I could feel the water hefting me up, and then I was pitching, no, shooting towards the trough, I was too far forward and had I tried to pop I would have gone in head first and gotten slapped down, which I knew, so I stayed put and shot beachwards at what felt like light speed. But now I had to get back out again.

The problem is, I cant duck that board, so you just have to take everything on the head. Quit at 1130 and went for food. Bought the papers, had a snooze, got back in at Putsborough in the afternoon. This was much better. It was smaller and the tide was on the way in. Easier to get out, and got some good rides.

Slept in the car that night, and got in again at 0800 the next morning. It was good until 0900, and I thought I was really learning, then the wind started and I sacked it home. Well, to Brizzle, then to home. Pooped

islay

2010-10-05T09:29:00.001+01:00

It rained all the way to the Lakes. The M6 north has to be one of the most picturesque motorways in the country - perhaps topped by the M74 which it becomes when you get a bit further up. And, there's noone on it. Glasgow looked damp and busy. I craned to try to see Dumbarton rock (is it just above the a82?), and onward, sloshing northwards through the rain we went. The scenery passed in a blur, the novelty and excitement now but a memory.

Finally we arrived at Port Tarbert which was to be our base for the evening. We'd driven all day, and booked in to a B&B overlooking the harbour. There was some sort of music festival on in the town, and so after tea we investigated. Raucous. Bet it would have been a good weekend - folky music and lots of beer from the looks of the revellers. It'd been a long day and we didnt stay late.

The next morning we caught the Calmac ferry from Kennacraig across to Port Ellen on Islay. Takes about 2.5hrs. Beautiful crossing - you are always in sight of land, and its pretty stunning land, so most of the time was spent on deck scanning our surroundings.

Islay is a beautiful island. Its characterised by small pebbledashed villages connected by bouncy roads across peat moors. Port Ellen (where we landed) is very small network of buildings and a bit underwhelming. We went straight to the hotel to get the keys to our lodge thing. This was a recommendation from the footprint surf guide, and I'm sure it said that the hotel was 'smart'. Tired would be a more appropriate description. Initially disappointed, we felt like we were staying at butlins. So out we went to find both waves and the prospects of staying somewhere else.

Our lodge sat at the southern end of a long stretch called Laggan Bay. The footprint guide recommends it because you have only to wander across the golf course and you are on the beach, and whilst tired it was clean and we had everything we could have wanted. Plus, if you were on a surf trip with all boys it would be more than adequate. Oh, and it was cheap by islay standards.

A wierd contradiction exists on the island. If you live there and are local then you have either retired and have money, or you are one of a number of young families and you probably live in what looks like pre fab concrete council accomodation - albeit in a spectacular setting. We quickly discovered, on our quest to better our accomodation, that bijou commands a price premium and that what we had would do for us.

The island is bigger than you give it credit for. You see if on a map and think its only wee, about 15 miles from end to end, but its probably about 20 miles from north to south, and if you drive from the two points of the U (its U shaped) then you are looking at a hours drive. Bowmore is the biggest settlement, and even that is wee. Mark McGowan had recommended Machir Bay, so after a look around Bowmore we headed off in search of that. In the furthest flung, most remote of corners sit the distilleries, which are in the most improbable of places. BUt what an amazing place to work!

The most striking thing about being on Islay, and particularly in contrast to Devon and Cornwall is that theres noone there. We park up at the road head, and run across the dunes to see whether its worth getting in. It is, but only just. The monster decides she cant be bothered, and I paddle out alone. Catch a few waves, get some reasonable short rides and head in after about an hour. Not the greatest surf session ever, but having done all that driving, I just wanted to get out.

The rest of the trip followed a nice pattern - there would be a bit of surfing, a bit of doing something else, a lot of whisky drinking and even more eating. All separated by spells zooming from one end to the other of the island.

So, on friday we were back on the Ferry to the mainland. Port Tarbert felt like a conurbation after such small pockets of humanity. We loved it. The remoteness - the tranquility - it was wonderful. From a surfing perspective it was only ok, but I had fun, and got some little rides in on 4 out of 5 days. The return jouney was long and epic, and it felt good to finally be back home. We would recommend Islay, but I would suggest that if you are not going with any specific activity in mind then you could do it in a couple of days, and then hop on to another one and continue your tour.

Anyway, been rambling on for ages now. Better do some work.

Quick thought

2010-10-03T20:58:00.001+01:00

When I'm there I think about the negative things. How hard it is, how my arms and shoulders hurt, how cold the water is, how I can't breathe, how getting tumbled over in my attempts to get out make me feel sick, but now that I'm home I just can't stop thinking about the glimmers of brilliance. When, for a few seconds I actually felt like I could do it, these are few but shine so bright, that even though I remember the struggle so clearly it makes me just want to go back there and try again. Someone once said that if something is worth having then its worth working for and the things which matter most come hardest of all. And that's surfing. It is fucking desperate. And so frustrating, but so utterly brilliant. Like a shining light, its brilliance a beacon in the darkness. I want it and yet I don't, the ease of climbing so appealing, compares to surfing which is to struggle, but so fleetingly incredible. When it works it works so well.

More tomorrow. Possibly.

Sunday Driver

2010-09-13T09:00:00.001+01:00

My problem is that I think that driving should be fun. Actually, the problem isn't that driving should or shouldn't be fun, it's that cars can't take 'fun', and they explode if exposed to too much of it. In just 24 hours the top gear team ruined a BMW 330d by driving it at its limit on a track. Even if you are only driving the car to 70% of its capacity, consistent use at this level will drastically foreshorten the lifespan of the car. Perhaps these people who boast starship mileage on vehicles wear driving gloves and warm the car up before rolling off the drive.

When I first got that Astra I hated it. I'd attached significance to having a nice car. Not because I wanted you to look at me and go 'ooh, look at him, nice car' - no, because I wanted to sit in a comfy nice seat, and be able to have FUN. All the problems start when you attach fun to driving. Owning the Astra has been an interesting experience, as its educated me that a car is a utility, a luxury which facilitates my lifestyle. What I need to keep in mind is that its a means to an end, rather than the end in itself. And, to possibly moderate my driving style. I have to say though, I honestly dont think I go that fast. The thing is, there are two ways to look at it - either I have been terribly unlucky, or the commonality is me and I need to change?

Its back anyway, with a new gearbox. As was pointed out to me at the wall on Friday (thanks Bunting), that I have paid out £1640 and its in the same state as it was before. Its not like I have made it faster or anything, it just works. Still, having it back is liberating, and I made use of it to go to the tor. Smells of oil in the cabin, but drives lovely.

Good scene at the tor. Caught up with Ed Brown at long last, and discussed fainting with everyone and anyone. Plenty of people also had fainting stories, and all agree I am a big jess (mini update on Aunty Susan condition - she is having physio already - from hooked up to ventilator one day to doing exercises the next. Incredible). Char did well on Mecca, climbing from the ground to the top of the groove. It looks like he could do it quite soon, and with temps only getting cooler, I would argue the chances are going to be good for an ascent this year. That said, he looked broken when he came down after this mega go, and people tell me they got to the last moves many times before it yielded. Much is discussed regards sequences. I change mine again, he sticks to his. I get set up to go to the groove but hesitate and dont do it. This is progress, as I have never before gotten set up for the move. It was almost like I get there as automaton and then awake from the sequence trance to find myself eyeballing the groove but unsure how to actually gain it. Obviously, I fall off.

Foley gets on Rattle and Hump. He really nearly does it, and after refining and updating and making silly errors it all looks like its on, but skin gives out before muscles and he has to admit defeat. Mike Adams nearly does Keen Roof. Tom Sugden proves he is the strongest man alive by locking the smallest of holds, and Joe and Vics berate us for swearing, and for inappropriate use of offensive slang. I have previously thought about this, and meant to do something about it, but its become habit. When I say I am a gaylord for not doing something well, the implication is that it is in some way a bad thing to be the lord of the gays, when actually I have nothing against whomever that fine figure might be, but its become vernacular, slang for bad, and my habit to use. Habits can be broken as well as formed, so must try harder Morton. Ben Pritchard is sporting mountaineering facial hair which he has used to store food on Strone Ulladale.

Foley and I go for a cup of tea in Hathersage, and a dangerous look around the shops. I think I want a Patagonia gillet. Manage to walk away empty handed and head back to Sheff to do jobs and watch some of the Hurley Pro surf comp at Trestles in California. Realise if I had been a proper surfer I would have been a free surfer rather than a comp king. Although it does suggest a nice life to go all around the world just going surfing. I think I have started to realise that actually surfing isnt about a routine of tricks, its about making the best out of the wave that you have caught. All the things they do are to maximise the ride they get from the wave. Very interesting to see just how clean the surf conditions are, which highlights quite how bad it is here! At the end of this week, she and I go to Islay surfing for four days. Checked MagicSeaweed this morning, and on Wednesday this week, it shows 22ft swell! 22ft! (12 seconds period), but also 52mph winds. So not so good. Thankfully we wont be there for that, and it looks better next week.

Penelope Pitstop

2010-09-10T09:27:00.001+01:00

There is a school of thought that says that the moves you try when training should be so hard that you can barely do them at all, that you should only just be able to string two of them together. There is mileage in this argument, but its boring. You dont get chance to actually do anything, and I dont like it. The boys all do this (ned, dan and dave) and it does seem to yield results, but I actually like to be doing stuff. So rather than trying a single dead hard move ten times I do sequences of considerably easier moves less times - perhaps just once!

When the depot board first opened it was way too hard for me. Then they put on resin footholds and people (the ones who are too strong) said it had been ruined. Most of whom have now come round. I think its brilliant. One of the genius bits about the wave at the Foundry is that you can do a problem with hands for feet and smears, then you can do it just hands for feet, and finally - just on smears. Three problems on one set of grips on one bit of wall. Caters for all. This I discovered with Dave Barrans at the depot. Man, chief Wiggum got strong, and ripped. Blimey. To be completely honest, I wasnt just substituting foot jibs for resin foot jugs, but I was also having to use the bigger bits of the holds where he was on the monos. And I still wasnt keeping up. 'Get 'em boys...'

Saturday morning club yielded a return to Mecca. Still brilliant, terrible conditions. Feel sure that the egyptian way is that which I will be able to use to get into the groove. Just an incredible route. Funky climbing.

There's been a lot of stress in our house of late. She has a hard time at work, and her aunty was about to go into hospital for a hopefully life changing, but terribly serious heart operation, so on Sunday out we went for a bike ride to clear our heads and unwind a bit. It was brilliant and as we pootled around Derwent so we could feel a bit of tension ebbing away. There ended the week. Well, with a roast chicken anyway.

The works board is now coming back into season. I went on Monday and started to feel the movement again. Man, its so physical. Problem is that the window right next to it makes it really hot in summer, and although those grips are wooden, they go slippy in the sun. So, good session on Monday. Invented some new problems, but back to the point a few paragraphs ago - I dont set dead dead hard problems, rather ones that i know i will be able to do in a few goes. And this is the thing with me, i like to be able to be climbing rather than trying moves - so I perhaps dont push as hard as I could, but thats because I want to be climbing! Anyway, so that was the last chance I got because then we went down to Brum to see her aunty in the critical care unit of the Queen Elizabeth hospital in Selly Oak.

Blimey. Nothing prepared me for that. We said to each other on the way in that we should be prepared for her not to look well, but seeing someone you know with all the pipes and stuff going into them is well shocking. She was heavily sedated and I wouldnt have thought knew that we were there (it had only finished in the operation that morning, something like 6 hours in theatre) but we tried to sort of talk to her anyway, hoping that familiar voices would be soothing. Feels wierd talking to someone zonked out, i mean, I will ramble on at anyone for any length of time, but you keep being overawed by the machinery and beeping instrumentation surrounding your loved one. Phew. Stressful!

I miss the next day as I get stuck in London. We went again last night, and this time her eyes were opening a bit and she was moving around, but still really vacant. This was again shocking, and I felt more so than seeing her zonked out. I suppose you can rationalise someone after an operation being out for the count, but seeing them with their eyes open, but clearly zombified really sort of shook me I think. I carried on rambling to her and all was well. Then her care team started telling us about her day, and that she had a number of heart episodes where her heart rate had increased sharply, but then settled down again and I could feel myself starting to go... I went to tap her (the monster) to tell her I needed to sit down, but things were escalating faster than i thought and the next thing I knew i was on the deck with a nurse in my face shouting my name. I was so confused, I didnt know who this woman was, or why her face was inches away from mine! Then the monster called me and I got my bearings, I started to come back to life. Man, what a wierd an unpleasant episode. Having it happen in the critical care wing of a hospital meant I got shipped off to A&E where they did blood sugar, heart rate, blood pressure and even an ECG - nothing wrong with me. Hey, but get this - resting heart rate was 44bpm! check me out! (I was nearly asleep). So, I think it was a combination of having a stressful few days, not sleeping properly and being well tired, not having eaten for a few hours and feeling overwhelmed by relative and all this crazy serious news about her condition. God forbid what happens when or if we ever have babies!

Diesel Donkey

2010-09-02T08:52:00.004+01:00

Failure, error and generally dismal performance all round really. Perhaps bad performances come in threes, and in which case I should be awesome the next time out. The first error was in going to Rubicon last saturday. It was boiling. I tried and failed to make progress on Beluga, it felt hard and it made my hands hurt. Edlog tried and failed to do the Sissy.

Saturday night we went to the pub to meet Rob and Helen, Dan Cheatham, Dave Pin, Edlog and his lovely wife. Got fired up about surfing Monday. Drank beer. All good. Sunday blah, Monday - up early to look at webcams for the north east coast - majorly log. Very disappointing. Messages go out, noones going, recommendation is to leave. Go back to bed.

So we meet instead at the board for an awakening. Its further drubbing for the ego as a struggle to even get to the top. Go home crushed. Plans for wednesday brighten heart, but on Wednesday its bright of sky too, and hot with it.

Neddy arrives at 12 and we set off over the snakey :

Theres discussion about whether to start somewhere other than the less than lovely roadside boulder. Ultimately because of diesel power we decide we cant be bothered and get stuck in. Its totally still and about a thousand degrees. Pulling on rapey edges in the full sun is not helping.

We get on Diesel Power. He does the first move and falls off. I fall off. He does the first and second move and falls off. I do the first move. He does the first, second, third and fourth moves and then falls off. I fall off. He keeps getting to the end, even getting a hand over the top but doesnt manage to finish it off. He is cross.

Lizard log. James Foley recommended this as being a steep wall on good crimps. He neglected to mention it was rapey. We wade through a bog in flip flops to get there, then its a total midge fest and the problem itself has had its holds replaced with rasps. We both flail about for a few minutes before the midgeing gets tiresome and we head down to Jerrys. At least it has a nice view.

He's on Pools and I am on Mr Fantastic. I cant remember how to do the transition move - as in, where to put my feet. Plus, my hands really hurt now and swinging around on the grips is not helping. He is launching himself wildly towards the road and grappling manically at the porthole before crashing back to earth. I remember Pete's foot beta and pass it on. He goes backwards at first but eventually starts making progress, so much so that by the time we leave he's had a couple of goes where he stuck the shothole and actually looked like he was going to do it.

I dont deal in negatives. Life is too short, and besides theres plenty of negativity out there, so I try instead to focus on the good things that happened. Although the above is a pretty paltry display of climbing pedigree, I note a couple of good things - on saturday I managed to get back through the caviar start - In the sun - good effort. Plus, I got from the floor to the jump on the sissy on my first and only go - again, this felt good and is a reasonable link. Monday, I did rabbis and bagels on the board, and i think we were both moving ok. Yesterday, I was lapping jerrys - four times to the end, just got a bit of the fear - this is just getting used to bouldering again - no problem. And, I did two moves on Diesel power - with better conditions - who knows!

So there you go, pick your boots up and get on it for gods sake!

Which Climbing Wall?

2010-08-27T08:37:00.001+01:00

The Foundry or the Works? They are both great walls. Going elsewhere makes you realise how lucky you are to have these top class facilities within the city limits. The Foundry Shop is better, but the music and coffee is better at the works. Of course, these are peripheral things - what about the climbing? Obviously, the Foundry gives you the opportunity to go up high, but the works has a better board. The steep bit of the wave is better than the comp wall. The Foundry has Justin Plumtree, the Works - Squiff. I would have said the Foundry is a better wall for training on, but then the works got the board. The Foundry feels more like a climbing wall, whereas the works is lighter and more airy. But this is a double edged sword - the reason for this is the windows which let the damned sun in.

In summary - you dont choose one or the other - you need to go to both. Of course a lot of whether you go or not depends on where it is and whether its on your way home, personal preference and basic economics.

I'm proud to reveal that I have been working with the Climbing Works team on a host of new developments which will take it to a new level. I cant say too much at this stage but to give you a flavour of whats in the pipeline - the central bit of the wall is going to be converted into a swimming pool beneath a section of retractable roof, which will include a swim up bar, with heavily discounted spirits for full members.

Back in the real world, the car is still off the road - which means I am driving this shitty Prius thing around (on loan from work). Not only is it rubbish to drive, but it is seriously ugly. And, not that much more efficient than any other car I have had. The most efficient car I've had was that a3. Anyway, whats gone on with the car? well, as discussed - the old box is scrap. The problem is that there are a lot of this car out there, and they are all failing about now - so second hand ones are in heavy demand. I spoke to one chap who had one in scrap for just 10 minutes before it sold. Vauxhall are running out of new ones too. New one is guaranteed for a year, and with no prospect of being able to source a second, thats what I have gone for. £1200 for the box, about £1500 all in (ex VAT). If you have a 1.9cdti vauxhall coming up to 45k - and it isnt broken yet - sell it! well, sell it if its your own.

Magic Seaweed reports mega swells around at the moment. Paul Reeve got in up in the East on Thurs, but said it was so big he couldnt even get out the back at Cayton!!! Jeez! I cant imagine him being weak, or unable to paddle, so it must have been epic - and the forecast said just 4ft. It says 10 for Monday! Stu complains that other people are diversifying, and that it makes him feel inadequate. I compare him to the other great non-diversifyer - Keith. We agree that surfing is a lot more palatable for the non climbing other half, but as he doesnt have this problem, so he doesnt have to distract his focus.

Anyway - looks good for surfing this weekend, and Ed log is back, so I might get another chance to drown!

Tickets to the gun show

2010-08-24T10:19:00.001+01:00

Sam called me over to his office. I trotted over and walked through the door to find him stripped to the waist curling a dumbell, counting "1001, 1002, 1003..." etc. Wow I thought. Gotta get me a ticket to the gun show. Team Gun's lead member was flecked with paint and positively bulging out of his vest. I scuttled back into my corner.

Monday night means board night. Its good. I am getting back into it, although its hard - one must be accepting of ego death if one is to leap forwards. At the moment, its a challenge just getting to the top! Stu arrives in the gayest outfit i have yet seen - white and blue sport capri pants and sky blue crocs. Such a strong look for such a strong guy. His torque steering front wheel drive power propels him to the top of the board, feet barely glancing the jibs. We exchange Clifford legends and wonder whether, like his initial namesake Tommy Caldwell - he pushes people off mountains with nine fingers just to avoid paying a ransome.

Nurse! medication please! Dan Varian itis has taken hold! (talks in riddles that one). Quiet unassuming nice man Hutchmeister proposes he is weak but locks casually up the board. I dont know if the works has installed special beefcake lighting, but everyone looks 'cut'. I dig into my bag and extract my bicycle pump - a little more inflation required in the muscle vest me thinks. I have compartment failure and only manage to increase my paunch. Team Paunch is born.

Gus bounds over. Jeeeeee-sus. The heavy artillery has landed. Team Gun is complete, and the two of them lurch around all bulging musclators and grins. Its sickening. Whatever happened to pale stick men with a far away hungry look in their eyes?

Car update - took the keys to the garage and explained what happened. They reckon its common on the 1.9cdti vauxhall engine with a 6 speed box. And the reason/problem is because its a five speed box which has had a sixth gear bolted on. This falls off into the gearbox and requires the whole thing to be replaced. Thats probably whats wrong with me. "Not much change out of a grand", for a second hand box. Thousands for a new one. I will get it replaced and sell it.

So, Adam Long. I want to come to Abersoch, I want to go surfing, but I dont know that I will have it back by then. Basically thats the thing. And then even if I do have it back, I might go and trade it in!

Like, totally differential dude

2010-08-23T11:25:00.001+01:00

First day back to work is always hard. You have loads to catch up on and the harsh reality of not being able to please ones self all the time or be a surf bum are all too real. Still, the sausage machine wont turn its own handle :

Been away for my birthday and a weeks surfing. Continued exposure to this most challenging and fickle of past times has improved my performance from incompetent total beginner to incompetent total amateur. It seems that the other people in the water range between 'barely competent but kitted out' and 'suprised they havent drowned yet surf school lemmings'. There are loads of these! Croyde is rammed with them. I turn myself around and prepare to start paddling for a wave to realise the nose of my surf board is pointing straight towards the grinning rictus of some surf school goon looking gormlessly back at me, unaware of the jeopardy they are about to face. I am barely in control here mate, I might be slightly better than you, but dont think I can steer or anything - if i get up and you are in the way - you are going down! Anyway, them aside - Surfers Paradise campsite, and Croyde in general is ideal for a group. First session in on the Friday - blown out and fairly log, but glad to get in. Few very short rides with no power.

Saturday started with rain and again - rubbish waves, got in anyway - had a go on a mates long board - cool - when you get the barge moving if feels like you could wander around and or go for a cup of tea on it. Pretty log overall surf report though. Evening we go for dinner in hobbs bistro - total disaster. Those who dont surf have been drinking all day and are mortalled by the time we get there. There are 13 of us supposed to be eating, but the table doesnt really have room. People start moving tables badly and dropping cutlery and generally being a nightmare. The Honey monster and I are mortified and want the floor to swallow us up. It doesnt happen, but the owner does come and bollock us. 7 leave to eat elsewhere, we placate the situation and attempt to rescue the evening. I drink too much in an effort to numb the pain. It doesnt work, but does make me very ill the next day. Very ill. Which was the day when the main group headed home. She and I were moving to Woolacoombe to meet Ed and Colette. It was hot. I wanted to die. Ugh ugh ugh. Deeply unpleasant. New campsite very nice, surfers is fine for a group for a weekend, but is basic facilities (although great location). Thankfully there were no waves, so I wasnt missing anything.

Monday - my birthday - 34!!! the new team excitedly zoom off to the beach to check the sea and its totally, utterly flat. Like a millpond. I am disappointed. Legend is that Ed Robinson is a quiet surf beast, and I want to see the evidence, but he escapes having to demo his rad and sick manuveures as there really is nothing doing. We console ourselves by buying things in surf shops and then go for a massive walk to Putsborough and to perv at the nice houses. Beautiful day. We later attempt to kill children with an aerobie and break our necks on skim boards before going out for tea in Mortehoe.

Tuesday is a different kettle of fish. The end of the world in weather terms. We awake to downpour and decide to go back to bed. Poor ed and colette have to pack up in this most hideous of rainstorms. The sea is still flat. We go for breakfast and then to Braunton for him to attempt to buy reef boots. He fails. They bail back to Sheffield and we feel depressed. We go to a national trust property (arlington Court) (we are members), and have a cream tea. Then drive to Barnstable to go to Pizza Express to cheer ourselves up and watch a film - its still raining. The film we pick looked good on the trailers, but oh my goodness - its not in the flesh. The last airbender. We both knew from about 30 seconds in it was going to be seriously log, and it didnt disappoint. Sheeeeet! this is possibly the worst film i have ever seen. Except fox and child - that we walked out of, but then we were unlimited film members at the time - when you pay for it, you'll sit through it. Anyway, impressively log, but passed the time whilst the bad weather was about.

Wednesday - surf! huzzzah! blown out at Wooly, better at Putsborough but needed time to develop, and blown out at Croyde. Bought her a 7'6" foamy and had some lunch in Sandleigh gardens at Croyde - lovely. Back to putsborough, and we go in (at last). I leave my board in the car so we can have a bit of a me helping her session. She gets loads better, nearly gets to her feet but suspect my bad teaching and not really knowing what to do is part of the problem. I have a go on her board and feel like a hero! the thing with foamy's is that you can ride them in nearly no waves, but they are harder to get out as they are so buoyant. I go and get my board and have a ok session. Get some good rides in and even start to be able to bottom turn.

Thursday we get woken up by a noisy family next door. How is this different to a group of adults at the other end of the day? Suppose the adults should know better, but annoying nonetheless. Consequently, by 0900 we are packed and in the car on the way to Wooly for breakfast. Theres something happening in the bay and it looks reasonable for the first time since we arrived. I steam in with a greasy bacon butty swilling around in my gut. As seems to be the norm for me and surfing trips - the best session of the trip is my last one. I dont want to come in, but feel quite sick. Am turning and trimming and getting some reasonable length rides in. Feels like I could do this -but I feel well sick. Push the feeling aside for another one last wave and eventually have to come in for fear i might spew in the line up. Good thing about North Devon as opposed to Cornwall is that its much nearer, on the drive home all the landmarks you are used to it taking ages to get to seem to come up fast. Which magnifies the effect of it feeling not too far. Its good to be back home! I like our house.

Make it to the Tor on Saturday. Join team Twyford and get back on Obscene Toilet. Feel strong but really unfit. And skin hurts.

Sunday she and I go out for a bike ride. ONly on the way out of Bakewell it feels like the car has run something over - like theres something stuck in the wheels or similar. There is no sign of anything so we stop and call the AA. They reckon diff or gearbox trouble. Grrreeeaaaat!!!!!!!!! Get recovered back to somewhere in bradway that does recon ones and cycle home. So did get a bike ride, but not from where we wanted to go to.

Nemesis2

2010-08-12T09:17:00.001+01:00

Zippy actually looked quite upset when I bounded down the road towards him. Me, on the way to the Cornice? surely the planets are out of alignment? there must be some disruption in the flux? yep, fraid so - Nemesis had hitched its skirts and showed me its garters on Saturday, and I was salivating in a distinctly unsavoury manner (well, in so far as this allegory works).

A good thing about Nemesis for the Mecca aspirant is that its still a power endurance challenge, but its an easier one. Again, there are no really hard moves, but theres no mega bucket jug rests either. My celebrity belay protege was coerced into joining in, and it was with good reason, as he had done it on Friday, so he had lots of useful knowledge to impart. Not that it was required, as the first ascentionist was on hand to take the piss and roll his eyes as only Keith can.

My team also included the mighty dr pinch. His might was tempered by error, which started with a bradbury belay stripping episode atop spiders from mars, and ended with a burst blood vessel stopping play on his first go on Nemesis. Which is a shame, because I would have put this firmly within his realm of possibility.

So its all down to me then. First go is good, I get through the hard move left, up to the finger jug and then make the clip. I feel boxed! lurch and shake into the pocket and sidepull and fail from there, not knowing what to do. For me, a lot of the fear comes from not knowing what is above. Once I know what holds I have to expect and where I will be able to recoup a rest, i am more likely to try going for it. The top is easy, but I expect to fail there a couple of times. What a brilliant route though! cant wait to get back on it.

We went and looked at the Nook - jesus. This is log. Theoria is without doubt the best thing there, but the craglet as a whole is pretty offensive. Although I appreciate the length.

Nemi Call

2010-08-09T10:04:00.001+01:00

Stop what you are doing! Stop going to the Tor, Rubicon and these other perma dry crags because the Cheedale Cornice is dry! Yes, its a good job you read this blog, as you wouldnt have realised otherwise, but it is indeed true. The Cheedale Cornice is dry. And very good actually. Foley always said that it was badly bolted and scary. This served to put me off a bit, but actually what Foley was being was a master of propaganda. He didnt have time/will to go down there so he sewed the seed of fear. Propaganda really was all it was.

Which of my friends can be coerced into saturday morning sessions? Hmm. Ed was away, Foley had just been on nights, Dylog doesnt get up before 11. Ned will do, but under duress and was going to his brothers. Hmm. Not looking good I thought. I could get back on Staminaband I thought and then, like a bolt from the blue it came to me - the glistening thighs of Rob Smith! there lay the answer. One of my oldest friends, and one with drive to get his rippling torso out of its pit early on a saturday. A volley of text messages exchanged and a 9am meet at the tor arranged.

We made a four which was perfect. Me and Alain, Rob and Tim. Warmed up at the Tor and then went down Cheedale. As Rob had said Cheedale I'd initially felt disappointed not to be back on Mecca, but realised it does you no good to singlemindedly stick to one thing, and besides I hadnt been down the cornice other than on foot, so with mounting excitement we slithered into the dale. People had kept telling me to get on Nemesis, and that I would love it so that was ultimately the goal. Usually when people say that its like a kiss of death - you know the 'right up your street this, youth' saying. Usually means get shut down, spend 15 years trying to do it.

Alain and I start on Spiders from Mars - 9b+. Scruffy would be one way to describe it. But fun. Its high! Rob and Tim scuttle Nemesis wards and Alain and I go on Clarion call. 'A bit intimidating' my host says, and then casually wanders up it placing the draws. Joe and Vics turn up, and I get tied on. The 'crux' is about 3b, but above it theres a balancey run out section, and I decide I am too pumped to go up and ask for Alain to take. He refuses, Joe and Vics plead with me not to gay out, but I dont want to commit above the bolt. So, I climb back down - yes, reversing through the crux I rumble back to the ground and sit for 10. The next go I race through and get stood up on the balancey bit above the lip. Its about 3b. Glad I didnt wimp out I rumble through to the biggest rest in the world and curse myself for not having the balls to have just gone for it. Still, thats it now and I thoroughly enjoy the rest of the route.

We finish and move on down to Nemesis. What a wild route! As we approach Rob is questing through the headwall, and when he stops climbing announces a new link - from the hard bit to the top. He's psyched, and it looks good. Rob and Tim dispense with beta and I think i manage to fall off the first move on my flash go. The next goes are increasingly better until i stick the move between the two crimp jugs, but then fluff the next bit due to lack of beta. I work something out on subsequent goes and I am dead keen to get back there.

I pack up and Roy arrives to crush Monumental. First go of the day he falls off going into a hole which looks to be at about half way. If nemesis is wild, then this is the beast of bodmin moor! Awesome, and inspiring watching the terminator in action. I leg it back out of the valley, to sheffield and then the train to meet the monster in Manchester - its our first wedding anniversary. Doesnt a year pass so quickly! (actually, its today was the day we got married a year ago).

failure club

2010-08-05T07:54:00.001+01:00

First rule of failure club is dont ever set yourself a goal you might actually do. Second rule of failure club... Actually, stop - this is overly negative and only based on a joke I bandied around last night - along the lines of these training camps people go to for personal development needs, I could run failure club - advanced lessons in never getting up anything!

Day three on Mecca last night. Brrrrriliant route still. Brrrrrrrriiiillliant moves - just a bit beyond me, and a bit scary. First go on and I get to the crimp jug beneath the groove. Feels like I'm really trying though, and I'm struggling to envisage getting there with enough left to actually do anything with the aforementioned feature.

Read this - indeed a good scene. I had bought Nedwina and Dylmong, then Stu and Jules turned up, then a very smart Mr Robinson. I'd give him a job! Ned goes on Mecca - does really well - flashes to my high point then gets confused by the myriad footholds. Theres no question that he could do Mecca if he wanted to, but like me, I think the sketch skip clip run out at the top doesnt really appeal. I know its irrational, and actually - some of the lurching around on the rope is starting to pay dividends - I feel a little more comfortable. Have to remember - its just climbing - stop thinking about it...

Dylan gets on Body Machine. It looks hard, scary and too high for me to contemplate. He works it all out, covers the ground but comes back down knackered and I think he might be harbouring cat aids. Ned and I bully Edlog onto Mecca. He does well, clipping the third bolt and then getting stumped by a million glassy edges. Jules isn't climbing. Stu is. He's going to do Revelations. Its the first time I've seen anyone do 'the move' and I totally think he's on it it, but it turns out the rest of the route isnt as straight forward as I thought it would be. Am hugely impressed, but hugely put off by the 'arse emptying run out' (copyright Rupert Davies, 2004) to the chains.

Notice that all the routes I have ever done have been short power challenges. I dont claim to be brave, I never said I was some bold hero - routes for me, provide an entertaining diversion during the summer months - I don't want to run it out high above the ground - I want to do hard moves! Anyway, back to Mecca, and I finally manage to make the egyptian work. This makes the move to gain the groove 3a. I come back down but have no pain threshold left and thats me spent. To be honest, the rate of skin depletion suggests inideal conditions. An expert later confirms as much.

Nedlog goes on Hubble bubble. This looks well hard. He does some moves, but not others and whilst I have no reference to say this is good or bad, I can see how you could justify the building of a replica in your cellar.

A fun evening. Much quoting from the power of climbing - which is surely the backbone of any successful evening out.

Mecca - day2 - backwards

2010-08-02T09:23:00.001+01:00

I had convinced myself I could do it. Because, individually, the moves feel ok, so you can conceive of the notion of being able to string them together. I can pull on at any point and be able to climb somewhere out of it (although not yet to the top), so its easy to make that leap to being able to do sequences. A doubt creeps in - these moves feel tough on their own, will you really be able to do them on the link? But I am a big believer in hope and positive thinking, so I try not to allow the doubt room to grow.

On Saturday I get back to the previous high point, but really nearly slip off making the clip and get the fear. Although its because I have fumbled my feet, its given me the willies. Manage a new link from the third bolt to the groove, and rehearse some methods of gaining the feature.

Char fares better, falling off actually going into the groove.

I know what I have done wrong, and I know what I plan to do when I next get back on it (weds).

Here be sieges!

2010-07-29T08:13:00.001+01:00

Last night I opened my account on Mecca. Reasonable nic at the tor, very dry - bit of a breeze. Mecca. First bit is easy. Clip the third bolt - easy easy. Then the fun starts. People say there are no hard moves, and I can see why you would say that, but there are no easy ones either, and certainly no rests. I have a wack sequence getting into the bottom of the groove, and I am struggling with my feet. And my head. For me to do this route will be a real personal milestone. Not just in terms of grade, but in terms of going for it on the lead. Like surfing, it left an impression, and I find myself musing what could have been and where I should've stood. Basically, I'm pretty keen to get back on it. Although at this point it feels a big leap to believing I could do it, I can also concieve the notion.

"You're here because you know something. What you know you can't explain, but you feel it. You've felt it your entire life, that there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
The character Morpheous in the Matrix

You're thinking about it because you've felt something. Why you bother you can't explain, but you feel it. You dont know why, but its there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. It is this feeling that gets you to the crag and makes you punish yourself...

Obscene faceplant

2010-07-26T11:00:00.002+01:00

Ed pulled off his shirt to reveal a torso bulging like a condom stuffed not with walnuts but with Brazil nuts. A last gasp, a dab of chalk and he stepped off the ground. The first few metres passed in silence, as he reached up into the undercut but didnt look so assured as he had done on previous redpoints, nevertheless, he stood up, clipped and started the crux sequence. As his hands snatched between the grips, his body betrayed an inner fatigue and I didnt think he would succeed.

His left stabbed up into the undercut signalling the end of the crux, and for a second he was attached, holding the hold, then POW! his hand shot off, he pivoted out of the still attached right hand side and hung, motionless for a second but facing the wrong way before diving headfirst towards the ground! WILD! thankfully all was well and he was only frustrated. Next go shouldnt have been, but was and he doesnt have to go up there again.

I on the other hand, do. Three or four rotpunkt attempts and each of them ended feeling a bit pumped and not wanting to commit to the above the bolt climbing after the crux. However, get this - all of this faggotry was followed at the end of the session by a totally clean top rope ascent. Which proves quite clearly that my mind is my biggest limiting factor. Its a good route for me, Obscene Toilet, because it personally presents a challenge. Clearly, I am physically able, but I get the fear. Conquering it will be a milestone in my personal development.

On wednesday last week I posted about being in Sean's roof with Constance Variable, Freewheeler and other southern chap whose name I confuse. Nice chap. Anyway, I captured some footage of dark horse Variable face planting from the end of Sean's roof. Thought you would be interested, so here it is:

Dan Variable faceplant from dobbin on Vimeo.

What women want

2010-07-22T09:01:00.001+01:00

Some girls go out with guys who are dicks. Some girls seem to like men to treat them badly - men like Chuck Norris. Macho, tough guy, alpha male types. At the other end of the scale some girls pick a Gok Wang character - someone with whom they can go shopping and ensure they look fabulous. Me, I'm like Gok Norris. Soft and yet hard, yin and yang - I'll take charge and be chivalrous, but also 'that colour aint working for you girlfriend' mmm hmm (on bad days I become Chuck Wang. He's a dick).

Been surfing in Cornwall for a week. Started off flat, then got bigger, but super windy - so blown out/confused. Got in for two sessions a day, I'm still learning and still rubbish but more and more into it. In fact, I think it would have been different had I not had a last good session before heading home on the thursday. You see, as I understand it (thanks more experienced surf buddies), this is the problem with our fair isle. The wind blows the wrong way, the waves get confused and its hard work even if you do know what you're doing (which I dont). Basically, it was a bit frustrating from Monday to wednesday. Yes I was in the water, yes i was getting better at the ancillary techniques of getting out the back, paddling, take off and all that, but no - i wasnt getting many rides. Neither was anyone though. Then on the wednesday night we went up to Watergate bay for dinner in Jamie Oliver 'inspired' Fifteen (inspired because although I thought he owned them - he doesnt, but he did help set them up). Well, this was amazing on two levels - the meal eating experience was awesome - lovely food, service etc, but the setting was just astounding. The restaurant is on stilts on the beach and with the tide right in you are basically in the surf - which was booming! It was early, and there were people in the water - they looked like they really knew what they were doing. The waves were twice their size when they were at the bottom of them stood up on their boards. Well impressive.

You can buy a tent for £50 (you can of course, pay significantly less). These tents are only really suitable for camping in conditions which could be compared to actually being indoors. Certainly, they are not geared up to cope with any proper weather. And really, thats not even what happened on Wednesday night. It wasn't that bad, but come morning everyone else in a tent only was packing up to leave. We'd not slept well - ending up having to curl up in the back of the car and it all felt a bit epic. Its fine being in the sea when its raining and windy because your wetty keeps you toasty, but when you get out you want to go somewhere warm and dry to relax. Its just not relaxing being in a tent which is constantly getting flattened by the wind. So, thursday morning we packed up and headed.... to Crantock!

Gwithian was red flagged, and looked like a big mess of whitewater anyway. Ed said go to Harlyn, but thats right up by Padstow, and she wanted to go to Crantock for a look in this gallery there. The main bit looked rubbish, but the left hand side by the rocks was sheltered enough to be churning out some good waves. Had best session of the trip and went home happy. Surfing seems to be one of those things where you think - why do i bother, this is desperate and i'm rubbish at it, and then suddenly you get it right a couple of times and you cant stop thinking about it a week later.

So, back at home (which felt great, we obviously didnt realise how epic camping was in a shit tent), and it gets to Saturday and I call upon celebrity Belayer Ned Freewheely early on to go to Rubicon. First go on Tribes and i do all the hard bit, get flash pumped and fall off the jugs. Next go it goes down. Pleased, but it is a bit log since the hold broke, worse for it. Get on Beluga. Ned tries to flash DB but has a bad left finger and cant pull on the smallest crimp in the known universe. We leave.

Sunday the monster and I walk down through Cheedale. Cornice is busy and looks incredible.

Yesterday Ned and I meet Constant Variable in Sean's roof. They make good progress and are both pretty close. From the pod to the end, both are getting the jug but whilst Ned knows holding the swing is unlikely (from horizontal), Dan actually tries, which does nothing more than make him horizontal in the other direction - i.e. with his feet pointing straight out towards a passing juggernaut. At which point he lets go. 10 feet up vertically, moving fast and horizontal with your head below your hands is not a healthy place to be. Gravity takes charge and he smacks down missing all forms of padding and spotters (although what would a spotter do from there?). Thankfully he gets up unscathed, but to be honest I was suprised. We retreat to Rubicon.

As we arrive Edlog is at the top of Too Old to be Bold, and we learn that Dylog has just done it as well. I get back on Beluga, and in spite of the mother of all splits make some progress. Problem is with the feet on that middle bit. Plus, I think the super stubbed toe may actually have been broken - i.e. it still hurts (three weeks on). Ed, Dylan and Ned get on the Sissy. Noone does it. Lex keeps nearly doing TOTBB, and would do on his next session i'd have thought. Seriously - who is this guy? he will be going from 7a+ - 7c in about two months! and climbing with us? wtf?!

Nedward Froghally

2010-07-08T08:28:00.001+01:00

Sometimes when you set off on something you've got the willies before you even start. Once spooked it takes a lot to unspook during a climb. Sometimes your blood just feels thick. You're pumped when you pull on, and once you register that you are, then you cant shake it off. It would be great to be totally empirical about climbing - to pull on and climb and just go with the flow - seeing what happens rather than analysing the signs.

It was raining yesterday, and rain means getting wet on long walk ins, so we went to the Tor. I got back on Obscene Toilet (is it called this?) and felt pumped. Got to the crux and shouted 'Take'. Disappointed in myself. On my next go I tried, and this was the scene of a brilliant training experience. Climbed past the bolt and got committed. There was no way I could reverse - I tried to try, I really did. I stabbed my feet, lurched into the undercut, but my elbows went out and off I went and wheeee! Brilliant. There's a world of difference between jumping off and taking a fall, and this felt like the first proper one I've had.

Ned and I jump in the car with the intentions of looking at Sean's roof. Which was wet. Then to Rubicon for him to have a look at Zeke. Couldn't remember my foot sequence on his bolt to bolt go, and he fluffed the bit through the pinches because of it. Looked brilliant though, and I wanted to remember how to climb it, so I had a go suprising everyone (most of all me) by doing it in two halves. Clean the holds, take the rope off the top two and lower down. Loads of frogs about. Ned tries to pick one up and it does a wee on his mat. He drops to his knees like a dog and laps the frog piss up. His eyes bulge and he takes on a strange distant look before tying back on. This time he knows what to do, his feet flit frog like between the grips and with a little 'ribbit' he makes it to the pinch. His powerful frog legs propel him to the dish and he bones like his life depends on it, has a bit of a look around, stuffs his foot onto the nubbin and levers through for the crimp. Blimey, he's got it! Undercut, over and he's on the break at the end of the hard climbing, clipping the bolt. Good effort! He looks like he's going to fall off the top, but thankfully doesn't and he's clippin' and strippin' just seconds later.

We emerge into the light for me to go on Tribes. I have a rubbish furtle go and get it wrong. Half sort out a sequence, and therein was my undoing - I glossed over the feet. Next go I climb well, everything feels great, then I fluff my feet and am off. I'm eulogising how good it is and inspite of having the starts of a split, Frog Boy ties on for a burn. The Morton beta machine serves him well and basically dispensing with his feet on the technical headwall (ok, they were pasted on) he flashes the route. Come on Ned, keep it going I think as he gets to the bulge, he's done it - and so easily too - as it did look easy. But then he starts huffle puffing - the frog piss must have run out, I shout some help, he makes a bark and manages to get the jug, but it could be a death crimp or something - the way he's yurtling at it. Thankfully he finds enough to continue and finishes himself off on the ledge above.

I am well psyched, and delighted for the Ginger Ninja, but I havent got the beef to finish the job - and my finger is splitting. Only at the end do I realise theres a hole in my foot sequence, so I fill it but its too late for that day. Man of the match for Ned vegas, surely a great evening out by anyones standards?

World Cup glory for Screech

2010-07-05T09:54:00.001+01:00

When I went for a walk on Friday lunchtime I managed to stub my toe so hard that it hurt to walk and the whole thing went purple. I knew then that getting a climbing shoe on would be a challenge, but when I woke up on Saturday it didnt seem so bad, so I jumped in the car and set off to the tor. Time 0900.

You know that link road that connects the pub on Ringinglow Road with Hathersage Road? (just looked on Google maps, and its actually called Sheephill Road) well, as I was pootling along all traffic coming towards me was flashing their lights. Ah ha, i thought - it will be the rozzers, so I pootled along the lane at 28 miles an hour, a big smug grin on my face, thinking - you'll not catch me today, but as I rounded the corner near Hsage rd where theres a driveway to the left I was confronted by a totally smashed up white 306 estate in the middle of the road having obviously been in a serious accident... "Shit" I thought! Lee has one of them, but I could see the driver pacing around on the phone, and he clearly wasnt Lee and was able to walk. Around the corner there was a red golf without a scratch on it so I gingerly negotiated around them and continued on to the tor. Turns out that the white 306 was squiff, and the red golf was dan and Rob on their way to cheedale. Everyone is ok, but squiff has no car. Impressive damage. Whole car looked to be U shaped.

Anyway, I went to the tor. It felt like it was actually quite good - breezy, jumper on between goes etc but perhaps it was deceptive? Either way, as i couldnt exert pressure through my left foot, so I didnt do anything of note, but it was fun to be out. Big toes it transpires, are quite important. Back to Sheff, then off to a barbecue at Helen's where i find out that it was Rob and Dan in the golf and have a lovely evening. Even if the boule was fixed by the hostess.

Sunday. Busy day. Christening in Manchester, then back in time for the world cup round at Millhouses Park. I just wanted to see Adam Ondra. The monster didnt realise no Brits were in the final and lost quite a lot of interest when Ned gave her the bad news. Even though no longer personally invested, it was exciting. And, its always nice to see so many friends knocking around. The problems looked hard! Of note in the lady final were Alex Johnson of the USA - she is a whopper! Like a sort of super Katy Whittaker. Katy on Weetabix. Natalia Gros - fifth element lookalike, and amazing japanese lady. In the man final there was Polish dave with long hair (man from Ukraine), man with rat on head (from Russia), Brian May from Queen (adam ondra), Man with unlikely name who was clearly amazing - cedric and very thin man from France. Oh, and another Japanese gentleman.

The man final went like this : japanese gent would come out and nearly do stuff - get to the top, fight valiantly but not finish the problem. Then Polish Dave would come and beef his way up. He got up two I think. Then man with Rat would look pretty handy, then Cyril Sneer would destroy the problem (this guy is amazing) and then thin french man, and finally ostrich boy would come out and annihilate them. He was just awesome. He flashes three out of four then misreads the first move of the last one a couple of times before suddenly seeing it and wandering to the top like its 3b. A most impressive display. For reference, problem one seemed to involve a deadpoint to a small sharp edge, everyone else had to hurl themselves up it loads of times - not Adam Ondra - nails to the hold, engages iron finger and stops on it like its a massive jug. Impressive stuff. Then the speed with which he romps up the groove was most impressive. He's just in another league.

So dismaying was this display of competition prowess that went off to Nibbles to console ourselves.

Yorkshire oh well

2010-07-01T09:26:00.001+01:00

I used to think it would be great to live in Litton. The Red Lion is as pubs should be - dark, low ceiling'ed and with good beer, but the locals... man, the locals. With barely disguised hostility they tut as incomers try to get to the bar. She and I once were going to eat in there (and apparently the food is nice), we found an empty seat at a table - quite close to the bar, nothing on the table or the chairs or any indication there was anyone there, then this woman comes in and does a massive theatrical gasp and exclaims to the bar staff that there's someone in her place. She tutted and sat next to us, pushing the monster in the process. As she knows the bar staff by name we have extrapolated that she is a local. We left. Perhaps the village has suffered because of people buying holiday homes or something, but they come across as unwelcoming.

There are ancient rules written about success in climbing. If you win in the cave you get a fish. If you do an 8a you buy your belayer beer. Last night we got to go to the Red Lion, and last night I bought beer.

I'm superficially superstitious. I.e. I wonder whether its possible to jinx something by thinking I am going to do it, but I know really its not the case. Like when you really want something and you set yourself little 'omen tasks', such as - if I can throw this paper in the bin with my left hand, standing on one leg and from the other end of the room then I will do my project tonight... I do these things. Sometimes wonder if you take success for granted then you won't succeed. Sometimes it feels like the crag watches and listens, weighing whether you've shown respect before deciding whether you'll need another visit to acheive your goal. Sometimes it feels like you need to trick the crag, nip in when its not looking and bag your project before it realises you've been sly. Lanny Bassham says you should approach things believing you're going to do them, but I often feel that thinking like that is being presumptuous, and that I should be humble, and if i'm good enough i'll be rewarded.

It was always going to be a fun night last night. We had a big team, and numbers just seemed to swell as time ticked on. Starting off, the Sheffield based Cornice Bream Team of me, Dylog, Edlog and Lexlog were always going to go. During the day my ginger protege wondered whether to come, and although not climbing he came for the party and as a celebrity belayer. Through the opening in the Bum of Manchester came Britain's best bum doctor, followed by the honourable Mr Davies, then we got Scouse champ Pinnington into the mix as well. As if that wasn't enough, Miles and Ben Heason joined in later. The crag looked like Siurana, there were ropes and draws scattered about the roof, although unlike Siurana (I've never been, I imagine its like this) the climbers attached to the ropes were all sat on them.

Dispensed with the usual warm up of Brachiation log, and for the first time ever in my history of Cornice visits - noone did it last night. Ed, Lex and Dave got on the 7a+ to the far right. Dave led it, putting the draws in and it didnt look easy, but he did it. Lex and Ed got involved and ultimately both succeeded as well. I went on this (and failed) at the end of the night, and I think its harder than brachiation dance. Ru and Dylog get on Rumble in the Jungle which looks terrifying and yet awesome. Miles and Ben clip up Albattrocity. Meanwhile I bolt to bolt Yorkshire 8b. During our warm up Ru and I discuss it's being a Power of Climbing tick. I had forgotten there's a picture of Chris Plant on it, but there is, and a new special significance. I have spent much of my life influenced by the pages of that book, and the cringeworthy interviews it contains. I would half like to write the Power of Climbing2, or try and do a spoof version. Imagine - you could have picture of me squeezing my feet into a climbing shoe, sat underneath Super High Intensity Body Building, surrounded by drilling detritus and cast off climbing equipment with the caption "Ben Morton squeezing his feet into too tight shoes before attempting SHIBB" (cant remember exact wording). If you don't have the book, and you dont know the picture I am parodying then this will make no sense. If that is you - shame on you. Go and buy it. Anyway, the point is that if its in the Power of Climbing then I want to do it, and my friends and I quote the captions on the pictures to each other willy and indeed, nilly.

As per all things Cornice, rumble rumble rumble, hard bit, rooves, top. The new Anasaxi whites which I bought from the excellent CragX shop at the Foundry feel great. They're stiffer and the crux feels easier as a result, but the stiffness and perceived lack of feel counts against me on the easier move that follows as I cant feel my foot in the dish and drop off without really trying. Basically i have another couple of goes which end badly, before it happens. The route is well bolted in that you can clip the mid crux clip from the jug below and then shake out there before you decide to commit. The bad bit about this is that it gives you time to think about it and whether you've got it in you before you start. Banishing those thoughts I started, and for once I tried. Enough to climb past the crux and stab into the jug slot that signals the difficulty is over. Got it! get established, have a shake, clip - continue to the top. Feels an anti climax to be honest. I think i am pretty used to having to spend ages on things so that when I do something so quickly i feel a bit ambivalent. Also, it sort of finishes in the middle of nowhere on some jugs amidst tufts of grass. I cant see anything else up there, so I shuffle back down and jump off. Done.

Spend the rest of the evening cleaning Disillusioned glue machine. Its probably climbable now, but it is pretty horrendous. Will I go back and do it? yeah. Its something to do and could be another quick win, but am I excited, scrabbling to get back on it? naaah.

Neigh

2010-06-28T12:24:00.001+01:00

Baking baking baking. Lofty aspirations of pulling on teeny razor crimps massively misplaced in such conditions, even at early o clock on saturday morning. Met Ed at Topley pike at 0930 and even then it was 17 degrees in the car and tres hot walking down. Needless to say I didnt so much as go backwards on Entree as to be almost unable to pull on. Bit disappointing, but must remember that it was conditions rather than me that was the problem. Made a couple of potential sequence changes which seem to make the hard bit more amenable, so will have to see the next time its cool. Constance Variable writes in the latest On the High camping and walking up hills magazine that this is the time to be training, and he is right, but when you have seen a glimmer of success you spend your waking moments scrabbling for opportunities to seal the deal.

Dave Hesleden and other chap who i know and speak to but dont know name of turn up and do pitch one of darl. Ed clips up Orange Sunshine and dispatches it on his first or second go. He even does a man bark, so it must actually be quite hard. We sack it off at 12 and walk out. Sweaty. This leads me to mine and Ned's idea of the graph of climber perception. At one end of the scale, the quiet destroyer, genuinely modest and a secret beast, ticking their way through whatever they try without telling anyone about it, and at the other end he who shouts and screams, tells anyone who will listen about his successes and respins his failures to be the fault of conditions/someone else/etc or just lies about things. You know the sort - the one who tells you his hardest ever tick when you ask what his favourite climb had been. Anyway, they're at opposite ends of the scale. We realised it wasnt a linear graph - rather perhaps, it was a horseshoe? from goon to good un in the shape of a horseshoe? no. further analysis of the model revealed actually, the graph is the shape of a proud stallion, stood in a field with its phallus erect and glistening. On the hoof of modesty is your Ed Robinson's and Roy Mosely's, on the very tip of the penis is Squiff, Ned would be the buttocks, I the mouth, the littlefair/davies are on the other front hoof - at the modest end but say more than your Mosinators and Robinsons and beasts every step of the way. Jon Fullwood - you'd be a bee flying around the horse. You see, the model works for us all - Jon wouldnt be on the model, therefore he fits as a bee which would be in the picture. Adam Mong, he would be the lustrous mane. Jim is the belly. Lee is its tiny pin head. Consider where you fit, and if you cant place yourself - ask. I can extrapolate your position using a complicated mathematical model.

That afternoon she and I buy her a car, its a Mini, and I am well jealous. Saturday night we go to a barbecue, and there are decks and everything. I get quite excited and ask for a turn. I have no records and have to make do with someone else's but remember what to do and can actually do it. This is interesting, because as you know i have recently started digital DJing, and argued that beatmatching is a basic mechanical skill which anyone could learn. And I stand by that, Traktor does take you away from having to keep the records in time which leaves you free to concentrate on building a soundscape. But, actual physical DJing is a very intuitive thing, and more about the selection of the right record for the mood than it is about seamless beat matching. Thing is, that once you get to an automotive level of being able to do it without thinking then you can layer sounds together with turntables as well as on the computer. I still think digital is the way forward, but I had great fun on the actual decks, and perhaps this is the crux of the matter. If you want to mess around and do a bit now and again then physical is the way, but if you want to go serious and make sprawling epic four deck prog-a-thons then digital is the answer.

Sunday was a day of sport, but not for us. We had to go to the car garage to finish the purchase of her car. Once that was done we sat in the garden and then started watching the match. I imagine that because I find commentary on climbing from people who dont understand it irritating that any such football comment from me would be seen likewise, but we watched and were disappointed with everyone else. Tried to go for a walk after that but it was just too hot.

Meanwhile at the BBCs and in comp land in general, some bright spark had organised for the British Bouldering Champs to be held the same weekend as a world cup round. This meant that the horse's buttocks couldnt take part and defend his title. I imagine the thinking here was that well, we already know that we want the people we are sending to eindhoven to be in the team, so it doesnt matter that they miss the comp. Well it does, because its not fair that the incumbent doesnt get chance to defend his title. As it happened, the horse got sent to the glue factory and he got back in time, but was tired and didnt win. Nige Callendar did. Leah Crane won the ladies.

Brachiation Vid

2010-06-25T07:42:00.000+01:00

Brachiation Lex from dobbin on Vimeo.

Brachiation Lex

2010-06-24T09:48:00.001+01:00

I thought yesterdays football match was quite exciting. So much so that when i got into the car, i actually tuned the radio to five live so as to be able to keep up with it. Plus, it was quarter past four anyway, so I'd seen the first half and the second was underway. By the time we arrived I'd know what had happened. Its not so much the football itself, more the collective zeitgeist of the nation, to not take part feels like missing out, and I hate to miss out.

The roads werent quiet. Or rather, the cars that were on them seemed to be concentrating elsewhere and not paying attention to their driving. And, there were loads of cars at Rubicon. Just one person at the rocks though, and noone at the Cornice. Drier than last week, but still some slime on Brachiation dance.

I had a look at the Disillusioned Glue Machine which is filthy. So filthy in fact that it was unclimbable. I contemplated cleaning it with my lapis, but this would have A : taken all night, and B : been epic with just a lapis. Could one of the full timers go and sort it out please? You would need a stiff brush and patience.

Having run away from that one I go to the other end of the world and stick the draws in Yorkshire 8B. Meanwhile Lex is lapping to the top of Brachiation Dance, Dylog is clipping up Free Monster and Sam has started on Rumble in the Jungle. Rumble looks amazing - fully incredible wild moves right up there in the roof. Dylog looks to be having a whitey with the Freemonster, and I have to agree - it does seem hotter than last week. Ed does Brachiation dance. The cycle goes round.

I have the fear about yorkshire 8b. The moves are pretty steady, and really its well bolted - but you clip on the lip then do the crux (which is hard), so the clip is above you then, then reaching out of the crux you're now on its level, then you must place your foot on at the same level and rock over - to a hold which is good. So from there theres an easily droppable move to finish the hard climbing, so you would complete this section with your feel on the lip next to the bolt - so the fall and everything would be fine - whats the problem? honestly - its frustrating. I carry on to the top and realise just how easy it all is up there. Cant believe it - need to get this head sorted.

Anyway, back to Dylog and the Free Monster. As is often the way, he just looked smoother, more composed and to be climbing better. Plus, Sam had imparted a better sequence on the end bit, so he was quicker - not that it made any difference or that he needed to be - he got there, did the deed and finished it off. A great effort.

Then to Lex. 3 or 4 redpoints to the final jug on brachiation dance, falling from the slap around the lip to finish, and the debate had been whether to force a stop half way through on his last go, so as to do a new link from mid to top. We talked about this, and it did make a lot of sense, but what about the if i get there I'll just fight to the death psyche? last go psyche? that must have been what he tapped into last night as this go put the rest of us to shame. In the gathering darkness he set off up the slab, huffing and puffing - he didnt blow the house down, but he did get to the breaks, make the clip and get a bit back. But enough? who knows... As he swam upwards there was silence from below - come on lex, dont blow it - you can do this we thought collectively. But he looks tired - however he's got great tenacity, and with no small application of gumption is soon at the top break, clips in, ready to do the deed, come on Lex! He shakes out, exchanges a few choice words with us, the throng below and the shouting starts, he revels in it, fluffs the tricky move, we think he's off, but scrabbling he tries again and gets it this time - surely he cant hold on anymore? he does! with a rebel yell slaps wildly over the lip, we roar, but privately hope he has enough in the tank to match and thank goodness he does! in total control he matches, swings out, lets out a yell and then drops off. Brilliant. What a great effort. Man of the match award to him.

Extended Entree (siege alert!)

2010-06-21T09:41:00.001+01:00

I'm not bothered about watching other sports, or really our sport. Its not watching that floats my boat - its doing. There are some sporting events I would sit in front of - the gymnastic rings for instance - thats well impressive, but football? naaah. Not bothered. We did watch on Friday though, although I almost wish we hadnt. Thing with football in particular is that it seems massively variable. Sometimes its just log, and in my untrained eyes, I reckon that which was played on Friday was definately log. Anyway, theres enough hype and commentary about that particular sport that you dont need more ill advised comment from me.

Bless Ned. He's one of the good ones. Poor guy usually gets up mid morning, not so Saturday. I'd bullied him into coming down Cheedale with me 'to finish Entree', so he was round at mine at nine, and we were trotting down the hill at half past. First to cross to two tier, and doesnt the stream feel warm and is low this year? Ned had bought with him his portable fingerboard, so we hung that from the first bolt on kali yuga and set about warming up. This is a genius idea - why waste skin and time on something you dont care about? get warmed up on the fingerboard which can be taken anywhere and then get straight on with it. Plus, Entree is effectively all over by the second bolt, so after a bit of a warm up I clipsticked to the second and then furtled to the top.

Rob Smith and Dan Cheatham arrive. Rob is here to do Entree, and Dan to do Minos. We discuss sequences - interestingly they are both totally different. As I keep nearly doing it my way, I'm not gonna change now, but its interesting to see if theres anything I could make easier. My first go is rubbish - the undercut crimp feels a bit serious, and I lower off to do some crimping on the fingerboard. Ned has a go, trying a wild new method which involves pressing the blocky pinch all the way to the gaston - he is about to do it when a foothold spings off the wall. Its the one you (i) use to step up in to the undercut, and whilst its now a tiny bit harder, that tiny bit is quite tiny. I dont ever fail to do that move for instance, but I would say its a bit harder.

Go 2 is better, but I dont get the pod right and lurch out of it. Go 3 is 'the' go. I should have done it. The holds just feel better, I have them more positively, everything goes well, the pod feels like a jug. I am able to shake out and have a chalk and everything, but I just feel massively out of balance trying to get my right hand to the jug and after much furtling I fall off. I knew that was the one as well. Work out what to do again, but it just doesnt feel as easy as I think it should. Rob has a go and shows us his more direct sequence - to be honest, I think it looks harder. They go back up to Minos and I try to summon the force. I dont really manage it and just feel a bit dull. It doesnt go down, and so I replace my rope and draws with those of Rob before wading back out. Frustrating, but its ok - I will be back. Already I start to wonder when this could be....

Saturday night we have dinner guests, I spend most of the afternoon cooking then we eat and get drunk. Nice. Sunday is beautiful, so we sit in the back garden drinking tea and reading books. The afternoon finishes meeting friends in Graves park to climb trees, throw boomerangs and attempt to fly kites.

This week we are under an area of high pressure bringing sunshine and sweaty hot temps until at least the tail end of the week, so any hopes of late night Cheedale action are probably daft - whilst the wall is out of the sun by 7.30, it wont cool down until its nearly dark. Plus, I know Dylog wants to get back down WCJ Cornice to finish FM. I'm happy to go there, and there are some drawers in rumble, so I could go on that - or Yorkshire 8b.... Anyway, keep you posted...

Freeing the Free Monster

2010-06-17T09:12:00.001+01:00

Finally last night I managed to climb the Free Monster. Its a route I first went on years ago, probably 2008 or 2007 I think. I reckon I had 5 or 6 sessions on it in total, and some of those sessions I went on other things because it was wet or whatever. Anyway, I didnt even really want to go if I'm honest, I wanted to go back down Cheesedale, but it would have been boiling and the Cornice seemed like a wise choice.

Suprisingly, Brachiation Dance was wet in places. It was like someone had helpfully crammed sea weed into the jugs. I hate the feeling I might be about to slip off, and I have to admit I stopped midway through to ask for a towel. Meanwhile Dylog clipped up FM. I came down, he came down. I got a go on FM. Actually, could really have done it on this first go - I could remember what to do and got through the 'crux' but didnt feel right on the jug flake that lay beyond. More accurately, I think I was being a wet lettuce. It feels a bit scary that clip. Had a chill, carried on to the top. So, thats it in two sections.

Both Dylog and I are in redpoint mode. We wait. He has issues with finger size in that pocket just before the crux, and this is his undoing on this go. He furtles to the top and down to earth again. I go, once more getting to the flake jug but once more wimping out on it. Do a couple more moves and lower to the ground. Lucy and Lex are on Brachiation Dance. If you know that route, you know that the hardest bit of it is crossing the slab at the start. You dont so much climb it as teeter up it. Anyway, the bolts are in a worrying place and poor Lex takes the ride from the worst place, and on a slab! all of which I have on film! credit to the guy, it doesnt stop him, and keeps at it.

Back to Free Monster, and its back to me. All goes quiet. I pause in the onion to survey what comes ahead. I look at my fingers - pink not white, apply some chalk, and then its time - swarm upwards I think, climb light, climb fast - alpine style... and up we go. Past the first two clips, bit of a shake - am grateful for the hushed encouragement, launch into the first bulge, clip, crux crimp, paste foot, crimp, pop - got it good, bit of a pant, come on - dont let the fear stop you, this is it, make that tricky clip and balls out snatch the jug pocket before the top break - I dont at any stage think I'm going to do it, I'm just climbing - eyes on stalks, like my life depends on it. Torque my heel into the top of the flake, camming my toes against the roof and roll over to the break at the top - oh my god, I got back here! (previous high point from earlier in decade) clip, shuffle along the break, other heel goes up and clip again. Manage a micro shake before launching into the final tricky moves - snatch the crimp, body arcs back but I manage to hold it and haul myself in, I hear Dylog say 'a muerte!' - to the death, and I know that this is the chance, I have to take it, I wont be back here tonight if I fumble, and with all my might I slap leftwards over the top lip for a sidepull, Held it! by god, I settle my feet and lurch wildly onto the finishing jugs! its done! I leap backwards into space victorious at long last. The Free Monster is laid to rest.

Dylog ultimately must feel very frustrated this morning. Not just because his mate did it and he didnt which is a wierd feeling at the best of times - psyched for the doer, gutted to have missed out, but more because he has another three goes, and on go 2 he basically does it but fluffs the top break. He cant hide his frustration, but having covered the ground surely its on the next time he gets back to it. So watch out friends of Dylog - if you are going to be recruited thats where you will be going!

For me though, i want to get back to Cheedale. Edlog and I went last saturday and had a brilliant day. I got on Entree and it feels like it should go down next visit - so if anyone fancies it early saturday morning....

surfing incontinence

2010-06-10T10:54:00.001+01:00

"Whats the impact of bringing these guys online so late in the day?" asked the project manager. I couldnt answer, I was staring at my phone on which the name 'Ed Brown' was flashing on the display. Ed Brown I thought... wonder what he's up to on such a clement day, and that was what he was phoning in search of - dry rocks. I was in our attic bedroom so had no idea, but that the houses 20 metres away were partly obscured by mist the signs werent good. I texted him, explaining my aspirations where down cheedale but that it seemed unlikely. Much later my text buzzed and he confirmed that the tor was 'gopping'. If the Tor was bad, surely there'd be no point in heading down Cheedale. Emailed my team and let them down, but it was too late for Folog who was 10 minutes from getting there. He phoned, cross to have wasted his time, but so near that it was worth continuing. Then he phoned again to say it was allright. It seemed like some sort of elaborate revenge hoax as the weather looked so bad, but I jumped in the car anyway and headed out.

The high moors were shrouded in mist, my cheap korean tyres scrabbled for grip on the sopping road surface as I torque steered my way through the peak, my car like a deranged pig engorged on steroids intent on mating with a lady pig in the shape of a dry stone wall (this was for Cofe who I bumped into and with whom I reminisced on the halcyon days of this blog). Folog's assertions the crag was fine seemed implausible at best. I expected to arrive at an empty crag and find myself at the butt of the butt doctors joke, but as I got closer conditions got better and the mist seemed less of a problem. Foley was there, and had just seen Al Austin who'd been on the top pitch of chimes. Basically the middle of the crag was allright. Not great, but allright. Things went black with use and it was far from ideal, but I was pleased to be out.

We got on Toilet Gesture. Dr Pinch made us a three which lengthened my rest time allowing us all to top it cleanly a couple of times each. This was a first for me. I think its a good route actually. The Climbing is entertaining and its a bit better bolted than Sardine - plus perhaps a bit more consistent. Anyway, I had wanted to catch up with Edlog, because I wanted to talk about surfing...

I was born in Devon, and through my youth we've always had relatives and links there, so I've always been aware of surf culture, and felt I would have liked to have been involved but for whatever reason never got beyond body boarding. That ended this weekend when we trotted off to the gower with a group of 19 others for the Honey monster's birthday weekend of camping. On the Friday we had tents to put up, and people were arriving through the afternoon. I had planned to get a surf lesson with the group as something fun to do, but then when one of the group turned up with a pair of boards strapped to the roof I saw my chance. Craig is a keen surfer with 14 years experience, and more importantly the patience and air of a great teacher. I coerced him into taking me out and had my first session on the beach beyond hill end campsite on the Gower.

It was brilliant. I could do it! I was overjoyed - and it was so easy! I couldnt understand how it had passed me by - here was something I had always wanted to do that I actually seemed to be good at and able to do. Craig was kind enough to butter me up with platitudes, telling me that I was a natural and that my progress was far in advance of most on their first time. I think I was lucky - it was small (3ft) and clean, plus I had a very buoyant 8ft hire board - I just found it easy to get stand up and even started making basic, slow turns towards the end of the session. I was well excited. I just wanted to go surfing! but it wasnt all about me, it was her birthday party and I had other duties. So, back to camp, barbecue, camp fire in the dunes, bed drunk.

When Saturday arrived I was champing at the bit to get back out there - to see if yesterdays success had been a fluke, or beginners luck. My first choice of outfit for the day was easy - it was rubber and had zips involved. Then i went surfing. Bigger this morning, and my empty stomach (before breakfast) objected to the churn of my attempts to get out the back. The problem with the buoyant board was that I couldnt duck beneath the swells, so getting out there was epic. When I eventually managed it I had expended all my energy doing so and sat, broken astride my board bobbing around. It was quiet - some good sets started to roll in and with childish enthusiasm I got on it. I could still do it! i'd worked out by now when to get off as well. Caught a handful of good waves, then went in for breakfast happy but a bit sea sick. We ate, hung out a bit and then went back in the afternoon. This time with the group. It had gotten choppy since the morning and was really hard work.

Helen and Rob had hired boards and joined us in the surf, although because bigger and because choppy it was a bit epic and didnt go so well as the morning and yesterday. Plus, the fatigue from having tried so hard was evident - i wasnt snappy in my pop ups, felt like an old man and really heavy. Came in for more of a rest and got really cold. On the way back out for the final time I did a little wee in my suit - and it was amazing - i was toasty. But then got tumbled and my warmth was flushed away. Slightly disgusting but quite incredible. We got drunker that night, so I was hungover in the morning and didnt go out. A brilliant weekend though. Cant wait to get back! She and I have booked a week in July when we plan to go to devon/cornwall and I am shopping for wetsuits...

Dobomix

2010-06-04T08:45:00.001+01:00

Stop romanticising the demise of the technics. who wants to hear the mechanics of beatmixing anyway. Move the skill away from basic motor control and you get to concentrate on defining the sound.

A few weeks ago I bought traktor and a 2 channel soundcard. On wednesday I put a mix together which you can listen to here :

http://soundcloud.com/dobbin/dobomegamix

I've only half listened to it, but so far I would comment I've massively overused the effects. Particularly the flanger. But when you've never had such things in the past, and its the first time you've mixed in years (and you're a bit pissed) then this is what happens. Anyway, there for you if you fancy a listen.

Human deformity studies

2010-06-02T08:50:00.001+01:00

So firstly, congratulations to Dr Folog, who at long last has got a job. How the medical profession could let Britain's best bum doctor go unemployed from August could not go unchallenged for long. The Associated National Anus League recognised talent when it saw it and snapped him up as their new 'Deep Investigation' specialist. I know that Ned 'Wobble Buns' Freewilly is already booked in for 'special' treatment once James takes up his new role. I (and I'm sure you) wish him the very best of luck.

Secondly, and staying with the subject of human deformity - I was treated to an advanced lesson in climbing wall specific body dysmorphia last night at the Climbing Works. No, not Sam Whittaker and his coconut biceps (still rockin after 15 years), but that blossoming wall flower the 'Squiffster'. My goodness. Miraculously this walking lat muscle could spare the time to follow us along the comp wall, kindly demonstrating those moves we couldnt do. If my festival 'Squiffhanger' gets off the ground perhaps we can showcase his skills to an audience (armed with gatling guns), one lives in hope...

I went to the cave after we last spoke on Thursday. It was nearly completely pointless, as I was rubbish - but I did get to complete my wall of cave trophies and add the mighty Chris Davies to the list of notches on my cave heroes wall chart. What a nice man. I dont think I even managed a move on cave life. Everything hurt and I was incompetent. Not so Ed Hamer. After seemingly no warm up he pulls on the in hell start (this is the longer one right? get so confused), busts into cave life, scuttles across to left wall, but then does left wall high to finish - despite being super pumped and his elbows arcing out behind him like a giant blonde tarantula he makes it to the end - good effort! So what does that make? High in life? in high life or in life high? Cave life short is 7c - and that goes low, high is 7c as opposed to 7a+ for low, so cave life short high would be 8a at least? if its 7b+ from the arbitrary start to the rockattrocity jug, but then linked to cave life short is 8a that means 7b+ + 7c = 8a, so how hard are those first two moves? hard enough that if you do cave life from there you get 8a+ (i think), so what does this mean if you go high? 8b? Perhaps I should buy the guide and support the cave? does it even say? so many questions!

Dialectics

2010-05-27T10:50:00.001+01:00

I have another massive grain split in the pad of my right hand index. Cheers skin. This time its not down to foolishly following the advice of a chiselled racist, rather the result of crimping a bit too fiercely at the tor. Things were amiss, the force was out of alignment. Although cool it was actually raining, but thats not what I mean when I say things were wrong in the world. What I mean is that Dylog arrived, put his harness on and DID sardine. Just did it. Putting the clips in - erm, error! Can I have my incompetent friend back please imposter who looks like dylog? perhaps the green tea and chives diet is finally paying off. So he does that, all casual and then does toadside - also on the lead and totally cool as a cucumber. Blummin incredible. Edlog arrives and we scuttle rightwards to shelter - its fully chucking it down.

Edlog does Rattle and Hump but seems to have moved the crux down a move to gaining the pinch. It doesnt stop him and he rattles to glory on his second go of the day. Holds are physically dry, and the bottom footholds are finally getting there, but theres moisture in the air and it doesnt feel good. I put a rope on dialectics. Rae steps in and stems the flow of incompetence with some well placed beta. She can mince the start - does it every go - incredible. I get spat out, slide off and find that 'easy' start bit well hard. I suppose it is the meat of the 8a route. Anyway, the upshot of this is that I have now done the first hard move, and by the time we left I could do it everytime, but it is a press both off, and too a crimp, so I suppose I should be able to do it. Thing is I am getting stuck on the foot move after that. Basically, if you can udge your left foot up onto the jug you've as good as done it. I did from there to the top and it was fine, so it boils down to one and a half moves. Hmm.

Interestingly, I have previously raved about the Sportiva PenguinFeet which I have been wearing of late, and I still think they are good, but they seem to have bagged out a lot and gone a bit shit. Which is frustrating for a million pound shoe. I also think they lack midsole stiffness and that when standing on tiny dinks they dont give you as much push - you cant nail them into stuff, but they are super sensitive and great for the wall (for instance). Oh, and they look like penguin feet.

It turns out that when I claimed to have been on Obscene Gesture last week that we were actually on Obscene Toilet. The boys went back on that, but I was totally convinced I could do Dialectics that I didnt join them. Ed took a fall, I got jealous - the way to combat the fear of falling is in falling. And although I had plenty of falls on Dialectics, Ed's was a proper leader fall. Anyway, tonight I am going to the cave - and I have got a massive split - the full width of a pad. Started off small, but spread under load. Low expectations, high hopes.

Solar Sheffield

2010-05-25T13:51:00.001+01:00

Do you listen to the bodytonic podcast? might be becoming one of my new favourites. Avant Guarde? Listening to Luke Solomon at my desk at the moment. Its good desk music. Enough to block out the wittering of the office, but not so much that you cant concentrate or get so amped up you cant work.

Unless you live deep underground you will be aware its been like living in spain - i.e. hot (no chorizo in sight). We went to the Broomhill tavern on Friday. This is a shit pub, but for some reason I feel quite at home there. I think this is because I used to go years ago and it feels familiar. Anyway, we sit outside on the same table as a couple of randoms. Theres loads of us, then lady random stands up to leave and asks if we will look after her baby, before handing an aubergine over and walking off. Wierd. I wondered whether it would be socially acceptable to throw the baby across the road at her departing form. Decided not to find out.

Ned is now building me a wood shed as well as installing a worktop.

Should have been climbing on Saturday morning but overslept and besides it was a thousand degrees. The parents came and took us for lunch. Managed to persuade them to go to Spice Market Cafe (they always want to go to the Dore Moor inn for some reason), and it was lovely. Felt very like being on holiday in Sheffield over the weekend. Saturday night we sat in the back garden and drank GIN. Ahhh GIN. No points on weight watchers you know (as long as you drink slimline tonic). My new favourite thing.

Couldnt bear another day of slothing so convinced the monster into a bike ride when it had cooled down a bit (actually, minor irrelevant tangent - i have taken action to thwart the actions of burglars - i have fixed a massive motorbike floor anchor in the shed and chained the bikes to it), and we soon found ourselves pedalling gently up towards Helen's house in the Mayfield valley. I am so jealous. Its a lovely house. Anyway, she makes us GIN and we enjoy a bit of sun. Home, barbecue and thats it.

I did potter to the Climbing Works yesterday, but it was hotter than the sun. Realistically in this weather you need to be campussing and thats it. Its kinder on your skin. Did a bit of that, got a flapper from the comp wall and went home tail between legs. Its not just that its hot, its that its appeared so quickly - we are not used to it.

Tor-pedo

2010-05-20T08:16:00.001+01:00

Sixteen degrees at half past six this morning. To be honest, it felt so humid that I didnt think the Tor would be up to much. Pulling on sharp tinies when your skin is saggy and the air thick with moisture is not a good combination. I arrived first (out of our team), jumped out of the car (this weeks CLR podcast is Adam Beyer, and very good, plus, like last week when there was a 9hr Speedy J set, you can have two hours and no Chris if you go to CLR, you do have to subscribe to a newsletter, but I suppose you could always cancel it) and felt COLD... Brilliant! My judgement wasnt far off though, it felt cold if you'd been sat still, but once you started moving shorts were required and the man boobs were out.

Jehovakill looks very dirty but almost totally dry. I mean to go and have a look at this, but question the safety of those nasty caving bolt things which are currently in place. Also, there dont actually look to be any holds! Well, I think I can see two from the ground, but not much between them. I put my rope on Boot Boys. First mistake. This is an Andy Pollitt route from the 80's which looks brilliant, but involves the ability to crimp on razor blades. And theres a move off a mono low down that I dont know how to do (I can only fit my pinky into it). After the mono theres a 6ft easy section to an undercut jug, then some scratching up the aforementioned death crimps. I can see where it goes but not really what to do, or how to do it. One to save for when its cold. Or at least colder.

Ed and I go on Rattle and Hump. At first it looks like he is going to static his way through it on the first burn of the day, and the first time he has tied in for ages, but he goes to the wrong hold and is back on the rope again. A good effort. I get excited for him then he reminds me he has actually done it before. I am less excited.

Foley and Rich are now in situ on a 7c which starts to the right of in brine but left of the toilet. It was really good. I shouldnt be so suprised. Folog managed to link it in a oner, but was on a top rope. I managed it in two halves. Good climbing. Had a quick look at the line to the right, which isnt the toilet? hot flushings? call of nature - that was it! again, feasible, but involves crimping razors, and my fingers were hurting. Apparently Emma Twyford has just done this - great effort!

So, that was that. Started to feel a bit more Tor fit again last night, as the last time I went it was pitiful and i couldnt do anything. Saturday looks doubtful. The parents are coming which is good from the point of view that I get taken for lunch, but bad from the having to be back in order to be taken for lunch. And anyway, its going to be 22 degrees apparently...

Ned's merry anus

2010-05-17T08:12:00.001+01:00

I am well tired, and I havent been climbing at all this weekend. Been a few degrees warmer, but with a nice breeze, so I bet if you picked your spots there would have been places to go. Friday we had guests. The hope was to kick them out early and go out, which more or less happened, but I was tired and it would have been pointless (you dont sleep well when you have been drinking). So, we walked into town munching along the way. Pleasant. Home for a sleep mid afternoon, then up and ready for action...

Or not. We teetered between going and not going, and especially when Die Hard came on the telly - Ned's birthday party looked less and less likely. She suggested GIN. Gin seemed like a good idea. Not just one Gin, but three. GIN! Feeling supersonic by now we giggled our way down to Nedward's. There was a back garden barbecue scene. Wild man Paul B set himself on fire for our amusement, and Wild Country man James got to handle a ferret. The party migrated indoors and it felt the right time to begin learning the drums. Ned tried valiently, but a lifelong lack of coordination served me well and I couldnt master the simple pattern. Ed's wife Colette turned up - who is a professional music teacher. Even with the might of the Big C I got further but not very far.

Back in the main room, Ryan and Hank had arrived. Hank Pasquill - Legend! Everyone was pissed, and by now it was 2am. We went home to enjoy another lack lustre day yesterday. This week - tonight - training (its monday), then Wednesday tor. Foley wants to go on obscene toilet i think? and maybe rattle and hump. I dont mind - just want some mileage.

Cave life - its the only life I know...

2010-05-13T08:23:00.000+01:00

Ow ow ow! The cave has taken its pound of flesh and spat me out - beaten. But i still love her. The problem with the damn place is that the moves are so good. There are shit problems in the cave (clever cleaver), but your big money lines are all good. Dan and I went back yesterday for a rematch. On paper it should have been a deal sealing mission, but in fact it was a channel surfing haven of failure.

Last time it was wet. Last time I fell off TC going for the shothole. Last time I did Rock Attrocity and three laps on Lou Ferrino. I thought I was the big man. Big things happen to big men, and I thought they were sure to happen to me the next time. Dan nearly did Directors. We talked about whether he would finish up the top like Pete Robins, but neither of us dead cert, sure fire winners were winners in the end. Trigger cut felt well hard. Never even held the undercut. I have skin problems, so perhaps I wasnt trying properly or something, but it just didnt feel on it yesterday. Conditions were good - no complaints about that, and so its doubly frustrating that we werent able to capitalise on them. Hoping it was perhaps a slow warm up day, we continued.

Dan couldnt do Directors either. He kept falling off in Trigger. The frustration was getting to us, so I thought, some success will buoy my spirits, and I set off on Louie. It felt desperate and spat me off before reaching the end of the ramp. I changed shoes and did it, but by god was it a fight. In some ways I wonder if that right foot heel needs to be a bit damp to be sticky or something. I rest up and start trying TC again. It goes nowhere.

I'd never met the mighty Nodder - hero of the cave before, and now I had. Nice man. I wanted something less intense than trigger to get into, and that came in the shape of Cave Life. Nodder showed me how to do it, and soon after I found myself climbing down into left wall having started at the RockAttrocity jug. I thought this was it - you got to stop there, and that was 7c. Jolly pleased with myself I stepped off to a chorus of dismay. Apparently you have to then do LWT. On went the stopwatch, and back to the start went I. Thankfully I managed to do it again, and this time continued to the end. Just the start to add in now. I worked and worked and by the time I forged a sequence I was too tired, but from the arbitrary start in the middle of nowhere I made it to the foot move to connect to LWT. This is possible I thought, but not last night it wasnt - I was whalloped, and the start hold had chewed a hole in my palm.

Meanwhile, at the business end of the cave Constant Variable was rinsing through Clyde getting to the end each time, but in spite of making man barks and snuffling noises he fell off on what I would call jugs. Which isnt to say that getting there wasnt hard - it certainly looked it, and I think the positions looked difficult to hold. Testament to the tenacity of Parry. Say what you want about an overdeveloped ego, but he's something of a cave wad. Some of the moves and things he has done in there...

Fingina

2010-05-11T09:20:00.001+01:00

I wonder how easy it is to get into crown green bowling? Any ability I ever had for Rock Climbing has been absent of late. In fairness to me, I havent actually been doing so badly, its just my terrible skin stopping me doing as well as I want. I said to Ned the other day 'oooooh soldier, theres just nothing worse than skinjuries' and of course he set me right - of course there is. Almost everything is worse than a skinjury, so stop whinging. Its just frustrating when you want to do hard things and keep slipping off or being unable to engage full crimp due to pad splits. And its all Dave Mason's fault.

I wonder if I can sue him for bad advice? negligence? "Anti Hydral that split" he said, "get right in there with the stump creme, then sand it in the morning". My instincts said no, and this contradicted every bit of advice I have ever heard regarding the magical stumpenhausen, but I thought no - I will give him the benefit of the doubt and try this advice out. And what has it lead to? the deepest, longest lasting, most reoccurring split I have ever had! in fact, to call it a split doesnt do it justice - more like a finger canyon. Perhaps this is revenge for my dubbing him Dave the Racist (which was actually Dylan by the way).

Met up with Folog at the Tor on Saturday - we were shit. I couldnt even do the powerband. Shed loads of people turned up, including, but not limited to : MC Hammer JNR, Ru and Stu, Masonic Dave, Stone (!), Simon Lee, Tall man from the Foundry and Emma Twyford. Down our end there was nothing but flailing going on. Shook through staminaband start like a nervous comedian on the stage for the first time with the words of the guardian of the Orme in my mind - "the cave is only really any good for the cave". It felt like the first time I had been to the tor in months. What we can learn from this children, is that singleminded focus and dedication towards any one end leads to specialism in that specific goal. But to do these hard things you have either to be talented and strong or dedicated and keen. So if you lack talent then you must be dedicated, and that leads to specialism. Is it such a bad thing? no, not necesarilly, not unless you desperately need to do well everywhere you go, and feel like the big hero all the time.

One man who finished the weekend a big hero is Steely fingered legal eagled downgrading midget Rupert Davies, who managed to climb Keen Roof at the tor. I couldnt believe reading Stu's blog that Ru hadnt climbed 8B before to be honest. I suppose he's more of a routes wad than a bouldering specialist, but to see how strong he is you would certainly have thought him a signed up member of the club from years ago. There are plenty of these about - people who have the ability but never seem to have made it happen. Lots of this will come from time limitations. And of conditions in this country, other commitments etc etc. Ed Robinson is another one. If he lived in america all we would hear about is this 8b and that 8b+ that had fallen to his mighty hand, only of course that would never happen because theres no public transport and he hasnt got a car. Poor ed.

I have managed to continue the deepening trough of specialism by arranging another mid week cave raid on wednesday. Constance Variable is keen again, and I am not suprised. He really looked like he could do directors cut last time, so with fresh beans etc etc. I am focussed on trigger cut, with my secondary goal being the wire. Its a bit longer without super hard moves, so a perfect after you've blown your wad on the Trigger goal. There is also the possibility that the weather will be nice and we could go to the mountains. However, its a bit further, and when I think the cave is on the limit of range for a midweek afternoon raid...

Finally, I leave you with the wishes of happy birthday to Nedwin, whose birthday it was yesterday, and who is now 32. They went for a carvery last night because their mate bet them he could eat a full carvery and 15 roast potatoes (ned was allowed to pick the potatoes), apparently he pissed it. Good effort!

Broken Rock Solution

2010-05-06T10:10:00.001+01:00

The rest of the world has been on Ondra watch - chasing up to Malham and Kilnsey to see Captain Beakface rinsing some of our hardest routes, and whilst no doubt impressive, I dont like busy crags at the best of times, and being unnaturally scared of climbing above a bolt - the combination of being a shithouse, and being publically exposed for being one didnt appeal. Plans were fluid up until the morning of Saturday. It all depended on the monster, and whether or not she was going to Manchester. If she went then I was taking her, and to then drive back up to Yorkshire made for a long day. I could have shared with Folog but that would have constrained him to my plans, and blah blah blah - boring. So, I went to the cave. Doyle and I had been on the text, and I knew he would be there plus it was a beautiful day with high promise of not only being able to climb, but with accounts to close down the planets were in alignment, the signs were good and all systems were go. Actually, briefly - I've missed a bit. Friday we had off - had a lovely day, went to see Ironman 2. Its ok - it is what it is, quite puerile but fun. Anyway....

Its all about irons in fires. I have had Trigger Cut, and Broken Heart on my list, but this time I went straight to Broken Heart. Although only short, Trigger cut takes the edge off, and I always do this, and I never go home with any ticks. So, straight to Broken Heart. Warm ups went well, reference problems (danger!) completed comfortably, then on to the Broken Heart. First go is a slip off, second I make a mistake, then on the third go things hook up well. The foot placements feel a bit more concise, the moves feel hard but are executed with a little in the tank - you know when the signs are good, and all you can do is try not to listen to the voices going 'this is the one! you did that move well, this could be it' and then when you get past the hard bit and find yourself shaking out on the 'easy but droppable' bit then the voice changes to be saying 'dont fluff it now, you know you did before...' and again, the voice gets a pillow on its face, and you push on. I felt more tired as I did the final moves than i have before, I felt wild, like I wasnt climbing well but somehow fought on regardless and then bosh! i was on the jug, swinging around at the top having finished the problem. The crowd didnt go wild, there was no roar of satisfaction but finally it was done. A warm glow of success spread slowly through my limbs in the minutes afterwards. Brilliant.

I realised that it was quite early on in the session and that I should try to finish Rock Attrocity. This is another problem that suffers from being not at the top of my list - that and my not fitting the final moves. I remember flashing to the jug pocket right at the end but never having finished the deal, and this is a situation which has continued ever since. Pretty much I put this down to having always tried it after stuff again - and being too stupid to see the wisdom in working the end in isolation. So, I got on with that on saturday. But I didnt do it. Rab Carrington (legend) turned up and we discussed the post climatic stress disorder condition that exists in climbers throughout the world. You do something you wanted to do and may as well write off the rest of the session. Thats not what I did, but nothing else went down. Well, nothing hard.

The Cave went from being pleasant to being busy. This goon I met at queens with Constance turned up, and to make it worse, he is now strong. Goons who are shit I can just about bear, but goons who burn me off I cannot be coping with. I dont know if he didnt recognise me but I managed to avoid engagement. Doyle, Matt and I go to the box. Such a lovely aspect. By contrast with the cave its quite tranquil. I do a problem called Jack the drunk. (i think)

Went out for dinner that evening, had a lovely time - felt shonky in the morning. Sunday we were shambolic all day. Monday we scrubbed the house (amazing how dirty it gets so quickly).

Yesterday I managed to corral a team into returning to the cave, in spite of the current fascination with Yorkshire limestone. Dylog and Dan Constant Variable were my in car entertainment, and a cerebral conversation about sustainability and the environment provided the distraction from the delights of the a55 on the way in (and back). The Peak looked gloomy but ok, but from Chester west the weather deteriorated. I spoke to Doyle - he couldnt even see the Orme from his house. We contemplated turning back but I was talked out of it. My flexed afternoon off suddenly seemed like folly. I hate wasting time. Thoughts of a dry tor receding into the distance behind me played in my thoughts but continue we did. It was condensing when we arrived, but with lots of thwacking and towelling some holds came not into condition,but started to feel ok. Rock attrocity felt terrifying - like lurching around in a roof on slimy wetness. But, things got better with traffic, and for a while the sea fog lifted. I had tape on my left index, which felt extra slippy. The game I played was whether to redpoint without it and risk a split or whether to push on with and have the problem feel hard.

Dan pretty much flashes Lou Ferrino - campusing through the end of the rail. Impressive stuff, but at least he had the decency to grunt and puff. I remove the tape as the now temporarily satiated Variable fluffs the holds on logattrocity (the hardest 7c in the world). I've suprised myself by how easy the start moves feel - it used to feel so tweaky, but those drilled pockets are pretty good really. I rumble through to the flakey thing and set up for the move to the pinch. The holds have been held perfectly, they feel ok, I dont think I've got much left, but as I take the pinch and slap my heel round the ramp I dont feel ruined either. I find this last bit so hard. Sink onto the foot hold and take my left hand off, lurching wildly I grab the damp pinch beneath the finishing hold and quickly, as rehearsed slap again and hold the hold. All that remains is to cam a heel in against the ramp and match. Feels so awkward but I make it work and step off having ended an old nemesis. Feel that this one is one I should really have done before.

Dylog makes progress on Lou Ferrino. He looks to be so cash but then something slips and he's off. Which is pretty much how his day continues. He must climb through the ramp section 5 or 6 times (perhaps more) always looking like its on, but then something slips off and he never seals the deal. That said, it should be a formality the next time. Dan and I have turned our attention to Trigger Cut. He wants to do it with the knee bar, with a view to halfway and ultimately directors cut. He has an ingenious canibalised old anasazi strapped to the knee and manages to make it work. I make progress on TC and am back to the shothole but no further. Dan however does Trigger, then halfway, then starts trying from moves back. His best attempts see him from climbing from halfway down the louie ramp to the end of trigger cut. It basically looks like he could do directors. I'd meant to try the wire (lou ferrino into broken heart) but end up on louie. Manage to do it again with a slightly dubious finishing match - i.e. I slump off it as I match. We go to the chippy and drive home in mega time.

Lessons learnt - never give up, fight to the death and ignore the signs. This is what Sharples calls 'Tenacity'. Examples - me thinking i wasnt going to do any problems and actually doing two. Constant Variable keeping going with man grunts when he looked like he was off, and Doyle - shaking like a shitting dog but still doing trigger cut. Dragons are a superior shoe to Solutions. The lack of midsole in the solution makes them a bit too flexi. I find a more supportive shoe an advantage - especially on Trigger cut. On Louie, where flexibility is an advantage, then the solutions felt great again. Ok, so not necessarily superior, but the solution isnt the everything to all men i supposed it might be.

Better go and do some work...

Thought

2010-04-29T22:16:00.001+01:00

Bouldering. Is it too hardcore for mainstream recognition? I'm reading the ron book at the moment, and it strikes me as the thing which gets you widespread recognition isn't the hardest moves you can do but routes. Punters don't get boulders, they think that its about going up high. How often have you been asked 'how high have you been then?'. They don't ask what's the smallest hold you've pulled on, or the hardest move you've done is.

Anyway, that's not the point, the point is that bouldering is too specialist for widespread recognition. If you want to be a big name, you have to do hard routes.

The thing with bouldering is that its the distillation of the essence of climbing. None of the faff of ground up or of grabbing the belay, pre clipped bolts, top rope practice etc, its you either climbed the line or you didn't.

The thing with routes is that hard ones are enchainments of boulder problems separated by plodding. So the extrapolation of the bouldering = doing hard moves is that being able to do hard moves after some rumbling is harder than bouldering. I suppose the argument ben moon once made which is that one day somewhere, someone will be doing a sequence of moves where its just too hard to take a hand off to clip. And then what's the difference? Who cares how you do it? Surely its about the climbing rather than the logistics of protection?

In fact, when you think about it, the higher you go, the more recognition you earn - right the way up to mountaineers at the top of the scale. If its kudos you want, bouldering is not where its at.

I might get to do some routes this weekend. To be honest I'm a bit scared. But what better therapy than a bit of aversion?

Logridge

2010-04-27T08:10:00.001+01:00

Logridge, Longridge. noun. Quarried gritstone edge at Jeffrey Hill, Longridge, Lancashire. Gently overhanging, 150m long, up to 10m high (but only in the shit bit). Bordered by strange soulless houses. Endless scope for traversing, up problems either easy or very hard but also filthy.

Friday was a wierd night. We went to the pub - saw Rob Barker and Nic Kidd and Piff, chatted for a bit, nice to catch up, then they went and we were just sat quietly when we got accosted by an ex Neighbour and queen of the tittle tattle on our street. I love our road, its dead nice, but because its a cul de sac and near a school, its very popular with young families and all the mums gossip. We live in a little bubble at the bottom and have no interest in taking part so we know nothing. This woman is queen bitch, but also queen gossip. Although she split up with hubby and moved out over a year ago, she knows all about the tittle tattle that we have no interest in and dont care about. For instance, the man opposite hung himself, and his next door neighbour is a lesbanian. I dont suppose the two are related. Where is this going? just to tell you that we got stuck with her for a bit and wanted to go home. Jesus. That was a tortuous link. I suppose I also meant to say that it was our time to have 'that' discussion. You know the one, where she says I am obsessing about climbing and that I never want us to do anything nice. All week I have been asking what we were doing at the weekend, and she's not been sure, so i havent made any plans. Folog is going to Kilnsey. Dylog and I had fallen out, and Edlog is entertaining (by the way, on Edlog entertaining - he is very charming! on his best behaviour when we went for dinner - taking coats and being the host with the mostest - bless!).

Its getting too hot to pull on slopers. It wont be long before the brown rocks are a distant memory and JB snores quietly from his cardboard box in the airing cupboard. We ended up going over to the outlaws as it was her Grandad's birthday. I took my leave and scuttled off. The idea'd come to me like a divine vision - longridge! too hot for grit, too far for lime. Good motorway links to Longridge, so although its far, its quite quick.

If I lived local I would be all over the place. When I arrived I was well excited. It looked brilliant. Since I last went they've built these horrible houses behind the crag, and I cant imagine climbers are popular with the residents - the back windows of the houses look right at the crag - its 8 metres away (or thereabouts). The ground has been built up by the BMC, but its still lower than when I used to go as a nipper. When I got there I thought 'this is amazing'. And as Dylog and I had made up by now I texted him to say we should go there, and he replied that it wouldnt be long before I was reduced to shuffling sideways for entertainment. The thing is that the up problems are either dead hard and filthy, or dead easy and done really quickly. It also feels pretty high. I was on my own at the crag, and although I have two pads, they looked very small from the top of the crag. I wouldnt drive over especially, but if i was local I would be there all the time.

This weeks Wednesday afternoon club is cancelled because I have to go to London. Blummin London. However, I havent got to get the train until 1127, so it occurred to me that I could go out early. My plan is to get up and get out with her at 0630. I am torn between logrider and the tor..... I could be at logrider for 0700, try it for a couple of hours and still be home at 0930 to get the train....

Tribal cuts

2010-04-22T08:56:00.001+01:00

Not a cloud in the sky all day yesterday, and this morning another beautiful sunrise. In some respects, being too busy to flex the afternoon off is not such a problem at the moment - its light later, and baking in the sun so theres no point racing off at lunchtime anyway. Conditions are strange here at the moment. It should be mint, the air is cold, really cold, but when its still and the sun is out its h.o.t.

I'd had grand plans. The attendees list pulsated as Monday became tuesday became Wednesday. Folog had to work, Dylog too (for once) which left me and a not climbing Ned. Then at the eleventh hour Katpee Whittaker joined the party and Rubicon was our destination. With retrospect my alternatives of Cheedale 2tier or WCJ Cornice would have been wise from a conditions perspective, but I'd been reminded about Beluga, and wanted to try that and Let the Tribe Increase.

The lake was low, the ground totally dry and you could even walk to the base of the jug pillar without getting covered. As it was rather warm footholds were not weight bearing, and the 3b traverse felt like it was coming from the arms. I got pumped. Felt like the blood in my forearms wasnt moving, like i'd been inflated, the skin taut to the touch like a sausage left in the sun to putrefy. This doesnt bode well i thought. After attempting to let it subside and making more than a token effort to warm up we decided that a perfect introduction to the summer of roped climbing would be with an ascent of the route Rubicon. Off I set, quickdraws dangling from my harness, rope limply swishing between my knees. I tottered up the jugs to the break. You'd be doing well to fall off here, but the creaking snappy jugs and slimy pockets aren't a great confidence booster. I think I was overgripping everything because i had the fear. Fumble placed the first drawer, clipped it, felt a bit calmer (or so I told myself) rumbled up to the next jug, made the next clip, and the next one. Now the 'crux'. Climbed past it, looked at the jugs, climbed back down again. Got a bit pumped - wimped out. Disappointed with myself I shouted 'take' to Ned. The admission of failure. Not a good start to the season of routes. Katy cruised up, as did Ned, me again. Fully piss. Its about 3c. Realise that A - not fit, B - have irrational fear of falling off. Its not the height, its of falling off above the bolt. Whilst I need to work on this, I dont need Paul B aversion therapy (big lobs!), or else I will become a boulderiser year round.

With that done, its up to the business end for er... business. The wall has now come into shade and it feels cold. The rock has other ideas and is doing its best to radiate the days heat back out again. Rat crimps feel bad. I go on Tribes, Katy goes on Caviar. First go feels horrendous, I am crimping like my life depends on it and my finger split massively reopens and starts gushing blood. Although not injured I basically cant bone with it which puts Tribes in the impossible list. Work out a sequence and thats pretty much it. Actually, on subsequent goes i get better and better and remember my feet and how to use them. It looks feasible but not today.

Meanwhile Katy Jane throws shapes on the Caviar headwall. With some innovative moves bordering on madness, and that I have never before seen to pass those festering little finger biters she makes progress but doesnt seal the deal. None of which stems the tide of beta I throw in her direction, forgetting that she'll find her own path without my almost certainly incorrect advice. I remember how to do the start and again try to pass this on, but I think she might be taller and it doesnt work. By the time we leave its dark, and despite not really doing anything, I am tired.

Rebel Alliance

2010-04-19T10:16:00.001+01:00

One of the best things about Sheffield is that its not that big. From where we live you can both walk to the Peak district or to town. In what other city can you boast such a thing? Friday night we walked down ecclesall road and all the way to the Sheffield Tap, which is a pub at the station. Far from the usual fayre of station pubs, this one is good. Thornbridge brewery, lots of choice, original victorian tiling. Recommended. Collected our mate and got a cab home. Walking dead - straight to sleep.

Saturday was a beautiful day. Ed had sacked off Caley in favour of Burbage as it was going to be boiling. Our mate got back on the train and went to watch the Manchester derby, whilst she and i had a look at the Volkswagen dealership up at Norton. Cars are expensive (for her not me). Went to car people showroom and looked at a Mini Cooper S works. I think she should buy one, but its ridiculous really and not a wise choice. They had a Clio sport trophy too. Suprisingly nice looking car, but being a renault would probably set on fire and/or explode after a year.

It was a big birthday for another non climbing friend that evening, so we were expecting to be playing host to others through the day. The one who has started climbing called - 10 minutes away from the station, and talking about going to the climbing works. Much as I love the place, there was no way I could be accomplice to such behaviour on a day like this, so I collected him and off we toddled to Burbage to catch up with Ed, who, by now was crawling back down the path Joe Simpson stylee, having fallen off parthian shot. At least, I think thats what he said. It might have been a 3b nearby and he wasnt crawling.

There was a fair breeze, and the south edge was probably as good a choice as we could have made. Showed lee 7-ball, then we moved up to the alliance. Which looks scary and high. Some randoms are attempting a rippled wall just below, and having not seen it before we join them. Its in the sun and tearing chunks out of me. However, i will not be defeated and manage to find a Sharma esque sequence which involves jumping past the slopers. With that in the bag I take my leave and go to look at the alliance. Decide the best strategy is to pad the gully and stand lee on the boulder to push me into the pit. Pull on. Rumble to the top not having worked out where the holds are, its allright this I think, but havent looked at the top and have no plan, scuttle down a move or two and step off. This time I go round the top and have a feel of the holds and a look at the position. All the holds are pretty good, and whilst you really shouldnt contemplate falling from there, I cant imagine letting go of those jugs unless something goes badly wrong. I have decided to commit. 100% effort, climb fast, fluid - no time to think. It goes well, feels easy, boule the top of the boulder and reach back to the edges to haul myself over. Theres only been a second of 'whoa' in the whole ascent. Mantle to glory, take my shoes off, pack up and walk back to the car. Suspect this may be the end of days for the grit season.

In the evening we went to town for a meal. It was a bit log to be honest - popolo in leopold square. Home at about 0130. Bed by 0400. knackered yesterday. Went to Sharrowvale market to consume pattys of dead animal. Did help, but only for a while. Bumped into lots of people which was nice. Then we saw this lobster clawed fiend hobbling through the throng - it was Ed, up from his sick bed and walking unencumbered. Very interesting - thought i had stumbled across a subterfuge, a secret training excuse or something, but I think it just wasnt as bad as first reported. Foley went to Malham and got pumped. We agree that routes of more than 5 bolts long require you to be thin and serious.