James Pearson

Postcards from Paradise - Monty Pythons Flying Circus

2012-01-29T09:12:00.000Z

Ben Grasser (mentioned in my last postcard) had recently escaped from Bangkok to open a climbing/adventure camp in the nearby jungle. Located at Kaeng Koi, the Nam Pha Pa Yai camp is a haven for travellers, climbers, and adventurers, and would soon play host to a New-Year/1 year birthday party for a local climbing group. The nearby climbing looked great, especially in the easier grades, and so, with a few days spare before flying to the south, and not being ones to turn down a good party, we decided to pay Ben a visit.

The "nerve center" of the opperation...

Arriving late in the evening, we followed a rough dirt track to a dark and deserted camp. Whilst wondering if we were in the wrong place, a head-torch appears through the black, and introduces himself as Ben. He gives us the quick tour and explains a few necessary precautions, including what to do for a snakebite, and how to check for scorpions in the toilet block. After showing us to our tent, Ben disappears back into the darkness and I start to wonder where it is exactly that we have come. Whilst falling to sleep, my mind is busy... not with thoughts of whether will we enjoy the next few days, but whether we will survive!

The next morning we join Ben for a visit to the Cliff. Along the way he explains a little about his ideas for the place and the work he has already done – it is clear how passionate he is, and the amount of hard work and energy he is putting in to make it a success

After a few minutes’ walk, we arrive at a wide river, with the cliff on the other side and no bridge for miles around. Bens solution is as crazy and exciting as the rest of his project – two giant zip-lines allowing visitors to quickly and easily fly back and forth. We race across, giddy from the excitement, only to be stopped dead in our tracks by the sight of several huge, very hard looking, unclimbed overhangs.

After climbing the best existing lines on the cliff during the morning, the place begins to fill up with guests of the party, including a national Thai TV crew! Seeking a little tranquillity among the madness, I hike to the top of the cliff in search of potential new lines to bolt through one of the main overhangs. Moving around on this big cliff is hard work, but by the end of the day a few new bolts are in place – everything must have a beginning.

Its a tough job, but somebody has to do it!

The next day would prove to be long... especially after the late night shenanigans of the party before. Caroline had a crash course in bolting, and she helped me to finish our new line and project for the day. On first impressions, the route looked easy, then after a little cleaning and a closer look, really really hard. I was not overly confident of my chance of success, but fortunately managed to find several good kneebars, allowing me to shuffle my way through the overhanging madness, flashing the first ascent with a big fight.

Caroline in the beginnings of the upside down madness... Photo - Richard Eden

Caroline followed with the second in a much more relaxed manner – I am always amazed about how comfortable she looks on overhanging collo’s. I called the route Monty Pythons Flying Circus, and at 8b, is one of the hardest rotes in Thailand, outside of Krabi. The name is not only a reference to the upside down acrobatics, but also the giant python who watched me whilst I drilled, cosily curled up in a hole just a few meters away. You don’t see that every day!

Postcards from Paradise - Ban Nam None

2012-01-16T07:29:00.001Z

Finally I find the way... With the rope bag between my legs, and my backpack on my front, I can take a “comfy” position lay flat out of the wind, as I gun my little 50cc moped, full throttle towards the unknown. The ease and tranquillity of Green Climbers home has been left behind; we are in search of adventure in the East.

The road is long...

After 150km and 3 hours aboard my “hair-dryer”, my ass is numb, but spirits high as we enter the incredible cavern of Kong Lor. A 7km long watercave, navigated in almost pitch black with a tiny longtail boat is an experience in itself – the incredible stalactites in a central chamber being the icing on the cake. We leave the cave at just before nightfall with a new friend. Our guide from the cave offered for us to sleep at his house and eat dinner with his family, which was quite a humbling and eye opening experience.

The next morning we are back on our bikes in search of the small climbing area we had come all this way for. Ban Name None was opened a few years ago by a small team from France, who over a few weeks opened three new cliffs with around 30 routes up to 8b. Arriving at the base of the cliff was surprisingly easy, as the thick jungle we had expected had been recently cut back by the local villages – we could drive our bikes directly to the cliff!

The reason for our good fortune turned out to be the local government, whom have recently decided to make the area an Eco-Park. Climbing is one of the many activities they hope to offer to attract tourists, and work is well underway to make the area as accessible and safe as possible. Its a good plan, and one I hope works – the next step will be to convince the villages to stop stealing the hangers off the first and second bolts, all of which are currently missing.

Wow! Not so ugly... Photo - James Pearson

Steep routes on giant tuffas is the order of the day. Some of the rock is very sharp, and almost all of it is dirty due to lack of visitors. We would often have to aid the routes first with a big sweeping brush to clean off the spider webs, but after this little bit of effort, we were left with great routes with not a polished hold in sight.

James Pearson on the incredible tufas of Ca Baille Dur. Photo - Caroline Ciavaldini

The best routes to seek out are Ca Baille Dur - a perfect 7b on glorious jugs and collo’s, and Gross Slame, 8b - one of the rare routes to breach the blank rock between the lines of Tufa (this one was even more memorable as I Flashed it, perhaps making the first ascent in the process?). The rock continues for several hundred meters in either direction, with mega-impressive features just waiting to be climbed. With time and motivation invested from the right people, this area could become something really special...

Postcards from Paradise - Green Climbers home

2012-01-11T04:43:00.000Z

Can you see the Katana Lace up hiding in the picture? I promise it is there!

Spot the Shoe... Photo - Caroline Ciavaldini

I am lying on my back, half stuck inside a hole on this giant block of Swiss Cheese, trying to figure where to go next. I squeeze upwards, or is it sideways, limbs twisted and inching slowly... then finally, there it is; the next quickdraw! You would be forgiven I was caving, but no, this is just another strange and funky route in the mega roof of Pha Tam Kam, the newest discovery in Eastern Laos.

Green Climbers Garden is the creation of Uli and Tanja Weidner, a German couple who visited this area during a round the world trip, and never left! Hidden away in the Pho Hin Boun NPA, just 12km from Thakhek, this little paradise holds several bungalows, a dorm, central restaurant/bar, as well as really great climbing.

Uli and Tanja are wonderful hosts, and the whole camp has a very relaxed atmosphere, exactly what you expect from Laos. The best time to visit is November to March, when temperatures actually get quite low. In December and January, it’s not uncommon to need long trousers and a jacket – essentially perfect conditions for climbing.

I never expected to see something like this!

The area in general is Tufa-central, it is quite similar in appearance to some of the cliffs in Southern Thailand, only with some friction, and without the crowds. The main event however is the gigantic roof on the right. 20m of horizontal, gloriously featured Emmental. Huge jugs and slopers, nothing sharp, nothing loose, nothing chipped or glued – this might be the best roof I have climbed in!

James on the finish of Monkey Trail. Photo - Caroline Ciavaldini

The current hardest route is the spectacular Monkey Trail, 7c+ but much harder lines are just waiting to be bolted. Having said that, it is not the hard lines that make this place really special, but the easy ones. It is quite rare for routes in the 6’s to venture into steep terrain, but here you can find 6b’s that tackle almost the entire span, via wonderfully interesting and involved movements – 3D climbing at its best.

The perfect end to a great 1st day! Photo - Caroline Ciavaldini

Green Climbers Home surpassed all my expectations. If the rest of the locations we visit over the next few weeks are half as good as this place, we will be very happy indeed. Tomorrow we will rent a couple of bikes and drive to Kong Lor Cave, where you can float 7km along an underground river, as well as explore some nearby cliffs developed by a French team a few years ago.

Sôhk Dee Deuh

James and Caroline

The Holidays Are Upon Us...

2012-01-01T18:02:00.001Z

...and where better to spend them than South East Asia. Avoiding the cold and the snow, adventuring in the jungle, and eating mangos on the beach - not forgetting a little climbing.

To make us appreciate the things to come even more, we spent Christmas and New year in a very soggy England, where there are definitely no Mangos - just a LOT of chocolate. Its safe to say that right now I feel like quite the glutton, but luckily Christmas comes but once a year.

In addition to the usual orgy of Tonsai, we plan on visiting a lot of new, relatively unknown areas in Laos and Malaysia which look to hold great potential. Throughout the trip we hope to send little "postcards" about the places we visit, back home to a few special people, including my mum, grandparents, UKClimbing, Caroline's sister, Kairn, and 8a.nu

Here is the first, courtesy of Caroline, about her opening thoughts on the grit. Its all in french, but luckily, Google has your back...

http://www.kairn.com/article.html?id=2335

Toucher de Grit avant le grand saut…

Dans la lignée de mes habituelles échappées hivernales vers le soleil, j’ai choisi cette année l’Asie… la belle ! Malaisie, Laos et Thaïlande pour ce mois et demi à voguer avec le courant. Nous avons pris les billets… et c’est tout ! Donc dans 3 jours, Sri Lanka Airlines nous téléporte à Kuala Lumpur depuis Londres. L’occasion de se préparer aux grandes vacances… par de petites vacances. James m’a promis mon premier toucher de Grit dans le Peak District !

Caroline "enjoying" the gritstone classic, Not to be taken away. Photo - David Simmonite

Première virée, Stanage, une grande barre de grit pas bien loin de Chatsworth, le domaine du héro de Jane Austen (un peu de culture britannique voyons, j’ai reçu pour Noel un livre, deux films et trois audio books de l’auteur de « orgueil et préjugés »). Revenons à nos moutons, pour ce premier jour James a choisi un grand classique, des blocs majeurs bien qu’humides et mousseux… avec en hors d’œuvre : Brad pit !!!! Pour votre culture, pit avec un seul t signifie trou profond et sombre !!! Le célébrissime Brad pit est donc un 8B décoté à 7C+ par notre grenouille préférée Marc Le Ménestrel, qui, enfin (!!), a suggéré aux british une alternative à leur bourrinage en no foot : poser un talon dans la rampe de départ ! Quoi qu’il en soit, j ai essayé, pas trop insisté, ca semble chouette, surtout une belle histoire de triomphe français !

Dans un autre registre, facile mais très, très haut, « Crescent Arête », et « Not to be taken away », sont l’occasion de tester mes qualités d’engagement : avec nos pauvres deux crashs pads, et mon pareur auquel je défends de se reculer pour la photo, j’ai bien compris qu’on me faisait faire mes gammes pour le Trad. La journée sera clôturée par un chocolat chaud au camion bar posé sur le parking des grimpeurs. Convenient isn’t it ?

Le lendemain, je continue mon apprentissage avec un footing aux Black rock, maison de "Gaia", La voie où Jean min Trin Thieu s’est cassé la jambe ! Bon… vu du bas… heu… ben …oui, certes, le rocher est pas mal, mais j’ai un peu de mal à saisir le concept du trad extrême, pourquoi n’avoir pas mis de spit si la voie n’est pas protégeable ? Mais parce que c’est la tradition, voyons !!!!

Ok, back to packing, but before I go, here is a video from one of the areas we will visit later on in the trip...

Le Blond, la Brute, et le Manouche - Video

2011-12-13T14:05:00.001Z

France, Italy, France, Italy, Greece, Italy, France, Austria, France, Italy, Austria, England, Austria, Itally, Switzerland, France, Spain, Mexico, France - My last two months...

This time of year is always hectic, it seems like the majority of my work and non climbing commitments all come at the same time, which is a good thing as it leaves a lot of the year free, but can sometimes be frustrating when climbing has to be put on the back burner, and you feel yourself growing fat from all the eating out and sitting on your ass in the car/plane.

However, decent rest can be just as important as decent training, and despite feeling lazy and unfit, your body may actually be happy for the R&R and excess calories, rewarding you now and again with little surprises on the occasional visits to the cliff.

Les Joncasses...

One of these surprises came last week at my local crag of Les Joncasses, a short, steep cliff of perfect compact limestone just 25min from our apartment in Grabels. I was back from a few days of traveling and meetings, with one afternoon free before we had to leave again for the final round of the Lead world cup in Spain - not exactly a perfect scenario for climbing hard projects. Still, it would be nice to get outside on some real rock, and good to re-familiarize myself with my projects, ready for more serious attempts next year.

The Pinch...

The route Le Blond, la Brute, et le Manouche was bolted last year by three friends of mine, Adrien (le blond), Nico (la brute) and Anto (le manouche) but was always too intense. The route is very bouldery, with the difficulties beginning at the 2nd clip and continuing until the junction with "Progression" (an 8c to the left). The moves themselves are very difficult, and clipping even more so, with the intensity building and building until the crux of the route arrives at strange horizontal collonet in a roof. From here, a few powerful moves lead to a precarious, run-out clip, from an opposing sloper and heel hook. Fluff the clip and the floor will be uncomfortably close, clip it and you are almost home... just the crux of Progression still to do!

At first try of the day I could not climb the individual moves, which was a bit of shock considering I had been attempting to redpoint on my previous visit just a few months before. The holds felt too small, the moves felt awkward, but I accepted this was just the result of my crazy busy last few weeks.

The Crux Collo...

After a little rest I decided to make a try from the floor...

To read more, and see the video, head over to JPClimbing

The Source 8c+!

2011-11-21T11:36:00.001Z

When I first moved to Innsbruck, The Source was known as “the Sprung project”, due to its crazy all points off dyno in the middle of the route. I tried the project during my first visit to Schwarze Wand, pulling through the quickdraws to arrive in the jump, then failing miserably on the move, again and again and again, finally lowering off thinking it would be a damn hard route.

The infamous dyno! - Photo Riky Felderer

Two years later, and a lot has changed. The project has become The Source, 8c+, and I find myself back at the black wall (Schwarze Wand) a little fitter than before. After climbing up to, and sticking the dyno on my first red-point try, I fall in the next boulder just 2 moves above. It turns out that the dyno is only the beginning of the troubles, and that from here to the top, the route is a series of continuous and varied boulder problems.

See the rest of the post with more pictures over at JPClimbing

Transmission.. Joy Division

2011-11-14T12:25:00.001Z

I can finally (so happily) say, that last month I made the first "1 push" ascent of Joy Division - The big wall in Val di Mello I have been working on all summer. The story of the ascent is long, too long for right now as I am rushing out to go training, but thankfully, The North Face has just released an incredible video along with a small write-up and some pretty pictures.

You can find it all over at TheNorthFaceJournal

Thanks to all the people that made this possible, it was a journey I will never forget.

The Only Mistake

2011-10-04T08:40:00.002+01:00

It was surprisingly easy to wake up at 5am. The sun was still hiding behind the opposite hill, but the oppressive heat was instantly noticeable. Breakfast went down and final items were packed in relative silence, words were not really needed, we both knew what to do.

The walk to the base of the wall was as horrible as ever, the uneven ground unbalancing you at every step, bringing your stumbling sleepy body uncomfortably close to some rather large drops. The sanctuary of the ancient and crusty fixed lines allow a little relaxation and we prepare ourselves for the long day to come. Chalk bag, quickdraws, mini trad rack, shoes... food... water... one last check... off we go.

I jumar up the first 30m and begin warming my body in the top of the first pitch. Things go well, and after a short time I link the entire upper part from no hands rest to belay. I take this as a sign that things are ready, and lower back to the base hoping the crux boulder passes just as well.

It doesn’t!

The first time I arrive in the hard moves, I am instantly aware that the small rough crimps don’t feel like they should. The more I squeeze the slippery holds, the more spooge seems to ooze from my fingers, and the more I feel the tiny crystals eat into my skin. I fall on the last move of the boulder, unable to control the delicate, stretched barn-door.

I lower down and try again, doing my utmost to hide the doubt creeping into my mind. I fall lower than before, then lower, and lower, and lower. With every attempt my skin disappears, and chances of overall success grow slim. The doubt is no longer hidden, but staring me fully in the face, as far as I am concerned the dream is practically dead.
After a longer rest and a few well spoken words I try again. I focus on perfection, each move must be executed just right, there is no point thinking about what comes higher until you succeed on that right in front of you. The last move comes and goes, the boulder is done, just 20m of technical slab climbing to go, where I could really fall off any move.

Another look at the first crux... Photo Riky Felderer

A protruding quartz seam allows an awkward no hands rest – not comfortable, but enough to chalk my hands, wipe my shoes, and calm my nerves. I know I can climb this section, i did it just earlier today, but now there is so much more at stake. I begin moving through the now familiar sequence, the nerves make everything feel even more delicate than usual, but I force myself to keep moving, knowing any pause is likely to be a false friend. The hardest section comes and goes, but I don’t ask questions, simply climb into the next.

I reach a positive quartz side pull, one of the few in cut crimps on the route. From here I must place a high left smear and slap my left hand 1m higher to a good hold in the crack. The move is scary because it is dynamic, forcing pressure onto the little vertical edge, which is worrying due to the fragile nature of this rock. During the working process, I had inspected this hold and decided, despite its potentially delicate appearance, it was very solid. It didn’t move, there were no cracks, nor did it sound hollow - everything pointed to green. I took the hold, and prayed I had made a wise decision, raised my foot, slapped my hand, and caught the next mini jug. Relax! Just a few more easier meters to the end...

SNAP! The righthand sidepull broke off the wall!

Read the rest of this post with more pictures at JPClimbing.com

Insight

2011-09-19T11:26:00.002+01:00

The nights were a cold and uncomfortable time during my last visit, partly due to mistakenly bringing only a sleeping bag liner rather than a full bag, but mostly just because it was f@%king cold for August! Not this time however - shivers were replaced with sweats, it was uncomfortably obvious we were in the midst of a little heat wave.

Chilly times during my first visit (Photo Riky Felderer)

Today was supposed to be the first attempt at the “big push” but motivation was not super high as I rolled out of my sticky sleeping bag into the full morning sun. Coffee did its usual trick of making the world seem a better place, and I started the preparations for later in the day, which essentially involved relaxing and eating as much as possible. This is one part of big-walling that I really enjoy! I usually try to watch what I eat – not quite counting calories, but certainly not eating to excess. However, there are enough difficulties to pass on a wall without having to worry about an empty tank, so I take full advantage of the opportunity to “scientifically” stuff myself, all in the name of good preparation.

For the full post and more pictures go to JPClimbing.com

I Remember Nothing

2011-09-13T10:38:00.002+01:00

Time in Insbruck is training on the rock and in the gym, which always provides a nice balance of motivation and humiliation. We began preparing ourselves for the next trip to Val di Mello, trying hard to pack well, taking the minimum amount of kit, for the smallest loads up that damn hill. With 150m of static fixed in place and some food and supplies stashed from the time before, I was hopeful for a sub 30kg pack this time round. The addition of a portaledge however played havoc with this plan, and we set off again with packs almost as heavy as before.

Testing our ledge (used to belong to Greg Child!!!) on the wall, thanks to Hansjorg for the kind loan

Free-climbing a hard multipitch route seems to be a lot about planning. Firstly planning what you want to do, then how you want to do it, as the styles and ethics of the big wall world are more complex than I could have ever imagined. Once you have set your goal, the planning then moves on to how best to achieve it – what training do you miss, what time of year to try (cool conditions but short days), what time of day to start, fast and light, slow and heavy, speed or comfort... the list goes on and on.

You can read the full post with more pictures over at jpclimbing.com

New Dawn Fades

2011-08-31T11:19:00.003+01:00

The difference between clean and dirty on this wall is immense, and should have been expected on an alpine wall of this exposure, parts of which rarely get wet. I spent a long time cleaning the 4th pitch and checking out the moves, thankfully to find that it was not so bad. Sure it is hard, sure it is a little scary, and there are parts where one must be very cautios with large chunks of rock. However, there are holds – positive pieces to grab with hands and feet, success will be more dependent on personal strengths and stamina, than positive relations with the Onyx, god of friction.

The 1st pitch. The end of the crux boulder leads into 30m of delicate and sustained finger layback/slab! (Photo Riky Felderer)

After feeling satisfied with Pitch 4, I returned in the evening shade to try Pitch 1. The difference was noticeable from my earlier tries in the morning sun, nothing incredible, but enough that I could start making small links and better understand the subtleties required. I worked out all the sections from bolt to bolt on the upper crack, and after a lengthy amount of time, solved my problem of the bottom boulder...

Read the rest of this post along with more pictures over at my new site - JPClimbing.com

2011-08-21T14:51:00.001+01:00

Since Canada I have been in real adventure mode; exploring, questing, learning, suffering, progressing and resting, usually in the middle of the mountains, with no phone or internet. The reason - Joy Division, a 20 pitch route on the Qualido wall, Val Di Mello. The result – sore muscles, sorer skin, and a fast track course in Big wall bumbling.

A Brief History of the route...

Climbing on Qualido dates back to 1978, and as expected, a whole host of mixed (aid and free) routes appeared over the next few years. 1989 was a very productive year, witnessing the birth of 3 major new lines, TRANSQUALIDIANA, LA SPADA NELLA ROCCIA, and MELLODRAMA.

The challenge then turned to freeing the routes, and by 1996 the wall saw its first 8b in the form of FORSE SI, FORSE NO from the Czech alpinists Igor Koller, Peter Machai and Miro Piala. At three pitches long this may not seem like the most significant contribution, but its importance (and difficulty) should not be underestimated, as it opened the possibility for a free route of the entire wall, through the most obvious and beautiful central dihedral.

The next big advances in free climbing on the Qualido came at the hands of Simone Pedeferri and other members of the Leco Spiders. After freeing LA SPADA NELLA ROCCIA and opening BLACK SNAKE, Simone set to work on JOY DIVISION, a combination of FORSE SI, FORSE NO, 8 new free pitches of MELLODRAMA, and the classic path of Melat. After 20+ days of cleaning, bolting and exploration, Simone was able to free the route over three climbing days, lowering to the valley floor to sleep between attempts.

I first learned about Joy Division after the 2011 Melloblocco. At the time I had ideas of beginning a journey into multipitch, but very little experience, and so I really had no idea of how the difficulty of these things added up. It sounded like fun, and I liked the idea of doing something really big so I made rough plans to return later this year.

Caroline and I in Les Chemins du Katmandou, Pic thanks to Francisco Taranto Jr

After completing a few “training” projects in various different styles, like Les Chemins du Katmandou in France (short and hard), and Lucifer’s Lighthouse in Canada (longer but easy) I figured I was ready to give Joy Division a shot. I wanted to try to repeat the route in as good a style as possible, climbing onsight and ground-up wherever I could, making the whole thing ideally in one push. I guess it is good to have very high hopes and expectations, but there is also a lot to be said for being realistic about your chances and ability. For those with any experience of the wall, this onsight in a day dream would have sounded as crazy as I now feel – a good indicator of just how unprepared for such a challenge I was.

Through my whole life, I have always been one for jumping in at the deep-end, which granted, has caused me a lot of failures, but also taught me to learn fast and think on my feet. I have never been fond of starting at step one, learning the basics and progressing gradually from there, instead I preferred to focus on anything I needed to know to stay alive, then jump in around step 6 or 7, often falling on my ass, but usually getting back up again.

The Qualido Wall, with the arrow showing the first belay. (Pic - Riky Felderer)

Joy Division has so far been one of these experiences. I set off onsight, and by the third bolt was sat on the rope, with no Idea of how to climb the featureless rock above. The thought the rock might be dirty had never entered my mind (testament again to my inexperience), so after hours of cleaning the smears and crystals on the first pitch I started again, to find it just as perplexing as before. A 45m 8b granite slab! I hadn’t climbed anything this side of vertical for way too long. I could not manage the individual moves – linking the pitch seemed further away than the moon.

20 pitches to the top, and I’m stuck in the 1^st – great start. The onsight dream is dead, I accept this will be ground up at the very best and so continue through pitch 2 and 3. At 7b and 7b+ these should be a relative stroll, but I only manage to onsight the 2^nd by the skin of my teeth, and fall once in the crux of the third – booooooooo hooooooooo.

Simone Pedeferri on the beautiful "corner in-a corner" on the 2nd pitch. (Pic - Riky Felderer)

The 4^th pitch is supposed to be the monster! Simone spent the morning telling me to be cautious for the climbing is hard through big loose blocks. He warns me that the ropes pass through the line of any falling rock, and that the chance of cutting a cord is a real possibility. 8b (possibly + or even c according to Simone) with a chance to fall to the floor from 100m fills me with dread, I get Caroline to move the belay to the shelter of the corner, and I set off with 3 ropes (2 lead lines and a tied off static) for an extra bit of safety. Again, the rock is dirty, and there are certainly some big hollow blocks that don’t inspire confidence, but a cautious mix of free climbing and A3 hooking leads me to the sanctuary of the 4^th Belay. From here we rappelled, fixing lines to the floor to allow for easier cleaning and working the following day.

Newfoundland Expedition Reports

2011-08-05T18:08:00.003+01:00

And we begin...

Wow!!! One month since my last post! So what have I been up to? Keep reading and find out...

Blow Me Down is 1,300 feet of granite rising directly out of the Atlantic. Situated in Devils Bay, a wet and windy place indeed on the South coast of Newfoundland, Blow Me Down is several hours from the nearest road and civilisation, accessible only by boat.

Like my Chad Expedition from 2010, Blow Me Down was the brain-child of Mark Synnott, a very experienced American climber and alpinist. Mark has climbed in more crazy places around the globe than I know exist and has a reputation for guaranteed memorable times, be it from epic or adventure. I was psyched to travel again with him, and placed all my faith in his knowledge and experience, neglecting my own research figuring he would likely have everything covered...

Supplies...

I said before leaving that my main aim for the trip was to learn. To learn from two of the most experienced big wall climbers in the world how to be fast, efficient, but above all else safe. Mark and Alex are obviously wildly different climbers, with different focus’s, objectives and strengths. I had climbed with them both in the past, but never in a big wall environment, and was excited by the prospect of watching them work and picking up some secrets.

One of many unexplored cliffs in the area...

The next few weeks would turn out to be possibly the least productive of my climbing life. Raging winds, torrential rain and perpetual fog would allow for only 2 full climbing days in 10. The rest of the time was spent in base-camp, sat on our ass, staring at the sky and praying for it to clear. Good weather was the one thing Mark couldn’t secure, but thankfully, as expected he nailed everything else. The soggy grimness was much better than it could have been thanks to a TNF 2 Meter Dome and a plentiful supply of food.

Base camp scene... soggy :(

There are really not so many new stories to tell from the trip, instead I will re-post some of the expedition dispatches in case anyone missed them over at The North Face blog.

Caro's Katmandou

2011-07-07T00:05:00.004+01:00

She did it!!!

Hard work, determination, and a little helping of pride really do work wonders. After the first session on Les Chemins de Katmandou, where she barely managed the crux move 1 in 5 tries, Caroline topped out on her ascent of the entire route early last week, 4^th ascent and 1^st female ascent (as far as I know), a fine effort indeed.

We headed back to La Jonte to meet up with Facancisco Taranto Jr for a photo shoot after the Millau Natural Games. Caro had just finished a 3 day team training session in the French Pyrenees, meaning firstly we couldn’t arrive in the Cliff until 4pm, and secondly she was exhausted. With little chance of a full ascent, we settled with fixing lines up the whole route for Francisco, and shooting on the top pitch with the evening light. I surprised myself by climbing the top pitch again on my 1^st try of the day – its really quite amazing at how much more energy you have without climbing hard pitches to get there.

Caro had a play on the pitch and managed to figure out a new method for the crux; normally taking a 2-finger pocket as a mono would make things trickier, but in this particular case, the inverse seemed to apply for Caro. Content with making one of her crux slaps static, we all headed down to the car and campsite, grabbed some of the local speciality “Aligot”, and went to bed, ready for yet another early start and an 8b for breakfast.

6am feels especially early after a shitty night’s sleep, but at least in France you are rewarded for such an unhealthy hour with warm, soft, freshly baked bread! Conditions on the rock felt horrible and I struggled to second the first pitch. Caroline had just dispatched it on her 1^st try of the day, complete with screams, wild slaps, and falls without falling. Having now experienced the conditions for myself, I really understood why!

I joined her at the belay and climbed through to the top of the 7c+, not without a big fight I might add on the awkward final moves around the arête. Caroline arrived perhaps 10 minutes later and seemed to be feeling good. We arranged the belay, exchanged a few words, and she set off for round one.

Move after move, I was constantly amazed at how well she was dealing with the incredibly reachy and powerful climbing. This pitch is her anti style, but she compensated for the long reaches by working her feet up very high, and on the few occasions where even this failed to provide enough, solved the problem with an all out jump!

She arrived at the mid-way rest before the crux and prepared for the upcoming intensity. After a few moments she signalled to be ready and set off, fumbled her feet, missed the next hold and was off. I joked with her not to worry as this move was one in every two, she tried her best to smile and joined me back in the belay.

One in two was right, as next try she cruised this move to arrive at the end of the crux section. A long move with high feet from a one pad under-cling mono brought her to the intermediate edge. After a small adjustment of the feet, all that remained was a 5cm bump (although at full stretch) to a good 3 finger pocket, and probable victory. She paused a little too long, and fell with her fingers in the hold – merde!!!

One of my personal little tricks I have discovered over the last year is to imagine that a route continues after the top hold, or that there are harder moves still to come after the actual crux. This helps me to deal with the “summit fever” – that sudden panicky pump that takes you by surprise when you excitedly realise the end is “right there”. I told this idea again to Caro in the hope it might help in even the smallest way. She was so close to finishing the route, but the sun was coming fast, she was getting tired, and all her hard work was close to becoming nothing. Multi-pitch brings so many more elements to climbing – these extra elements make the final result all the more worth, but can cause quite a lot of heart ache along the way!

Caro set off, and from my perspective looked to cruise the route, moving fluidly, really flowing through the hard moves. From her perspective, things were a little different... She admitted feeling tired and weak, the worst of her 3 tries of the day. However, she knew this was to be her last try, her one and only chance to finish this journey and she needed to make it count. She told herself the route was the final of just another comp, and whilst ultimately not important in the wider scheme of the world, it was of the highest importance in the “there and now” and she needed to find a way to make it work, to dig deep into the reserve tank and find a little magic. The huge smile across her face as I joined her at the top told me just how happy she was with the result.

A magic day.

Big, Scary, Monsters

2011-06-25T16:12:00.006+01:00

The 4th pitch roof of La Cardaire

The next project is underway, and has already begun gathering speed. I have started to become more and more intrigued by the world of hard multi-pitch and big walls and over the last few months have started to make my first visits to this world.

The eventual idea is to create something very long, very hard, and very scary, but this final phase is still quite a long way off in the future. Now is the time to begin developing the necessary skills, by attempting and repeating certain existing routes, some classic, some obscure, in the style of the separate components of the master plan.

The first of the training routes fell a few months ago, in the form of La Cardaire, a semi-traditional, 4 pitch wall in St Guilhem. The 160m route is capped by a big roof at the very top, and was first climbed as an route at A2, 6b, using only pitons for protection. The route has aged a little, and in doing so the pitons are perhaps not as proud as they once were, but standards have also improved, and the route now goes free at 7a,7b,7c,8a.

The 3rd pitch and questionable 2nd belay!!!

I took a mini trad rack with me during my on-sight of the route with good friend Nico, but It was not really necessary. There is enough fixed gear in the wall to climb in relative comfort, granted some of it very old and far apart, but still enough. Take a few slings for belay on the trees, and get ready for some exposure through the final roof!!!

The next part of the project was something a little harder, a 3 pitch route in La Jonte called Les Chemins De Katmandou. Bolted by Laurent Triay and climbed by Sharma in 2002, the route packs quite a punch in its relatively short height of 100m. A 50m 8b leads to a 20m 7c+ and finally a 30m 8b+ up the bulging headwall. The climbing on the 1st pitch is great and is worth doing in its own right, but the climbing on the 3^rd pitch is simply exquisite – a contender for the best route I have climbed on limestone!

Caroline following the 3rd pitch

The 3^rd pitch is very dynamic; long move after long move on perfectly sculpted pockets. After the first day on the route, I was not so hopeful about my chances of climbing it quickly. I was struggling to do some of the moves on the headwall and didn’t quite see how I would be able to link it all together, especially after the addition of the first 2 hard pitches.

Caro and I returned a few days later, and thing could hardly have been more different. After warming up, I climbed the 8b pitch on my 1st try, and the 8b+ pitch on my 2^nd, after a slight refinement of the method for the crux. Caroline also made great progress on the route, despite several very long moves on the 3^rd pitch. We will head back soon for her to make a try from the floor and probably shoot some pictures in the process.

Looking up the 1st pitch of Katmandou towards the 3rd pitch headwall!

It’s strange how your performance can change so drastically from day to day, something I must try to remember in the future when routes feel too hard for me. I am happy to have got it done so quickly, and excited to begin the next part of the project... Newfoundland

2011-06-25T15:36:00.002+01:00

I thought I would have them for Chad, I was certain I would have them for Pembroke, but for one reason or another the Helium Friends just kept me waiting. Everything was frustratingly close, all the components were ready in boxes in Llanberis just waiting to be put together, but this is the really slow and complicated part and with orders for 10’s of thousands, the guys and girls in the factory certainally had their work cut out.

Finally, this morning I collected a box from the local post office and got my hands on a set. They look pretty, and feel light, so a great start... Next month I will be on expedition and will have my first chance to try them out for real.

One final thing – also in the box was a set of Astro Quickdraws, and praise the Lord, they are finally coming paired in Silver and Red, rather than the usual single colour. It is such a small detail but one I feel makes a big difference – no longer will I be grabbing the wrong end whilst clipping from a pumped panic. Burs from bolts and skinny ropes do not play well together!

2011-06-09T14:39:00.002+01:00

Sun, sea, speed boats and secret beaches – my last weekend in Sardinia.

2am was not a happy hour for waking up, and was even less happy when I walked out of my door to pouring rain and a flat battery in my car. With my brain still cloudy from sleep, I struggled to think how I would fix this problem and still catch my soon to depart flight, from Munich, two hours drive away.

The garage was closed, I had no jump leads, and the airport shuttle had already left... things were not looking good. The €300 taxi fare seemed like the only option as OAMTC would likely take too long, but then just as I was about to bite the bullet, around the corner came a bright yellow car and all my problems were solved.

The man clipped on the jumper box, my car sprang to life, and I set off to Munich with the rain still falling hard, focusing on not stalling the car and repeating the same epic all over again. I arrived in time, caught my plane, and was stood in glorious Sardinian sunshine by 8am. Next stop Maddalena

Friday was spent driving around Maddalena and Caprera with my host from Villa Olivia, Davide. Davide was born and raised on the tiny island, and after an early career as a mountain guide, he returned to run a beautiful B&B overlooking a tranquil secluded beach. Davides love for the island and its climbing is evident in his enthusiastic approach to his work. In a few hours he had shown me several incredible looking projects that almost tempted me to break my rest day, but my sore skin sent an obvious reminder every time it touched rock, and so I made do with planning the next few days over a cold beer on the beach.

The official reason for my trip was to guide the winners of a recent TNF competition. They arrived on Friday evening after a little delay with flights, and we headed to a typical Sardinian restaurant for a feast of pizza, pasta and seafood. By the time we had finished eating and caught the ferry back to Maddalena, it was the wrong side of midnight, and I was not looking forward to my 7am alarm, which would be followed by a very, very busy day.

The next 24 hours went something like this. Amazing Sardinian breakfast and coffee, drive to the harbour, pack and board the cute little rubber boat, then sail to a nearby island for the first bouldering, getting the shock of your life when the cute little thing took off like a rocket. After discovering the first amazing boulders of the day and climbing a few great new problems, we departed for the next island, not happy to hear the warning of rough seas.

Davide warned me that things were going to be exciting. The seas were two levels above what they would normally take clients out in, but because I was a “strong man” he felt things would work out. The little boat can only sail through swell this big if it keeps moving fast, this way the boat can bounce over the tops of the waves, rather than the waves pouring over the top of the boat. We were lucky to have a fantastic capitan who seemed to possess a sixth sense for the movement of the ocean, but even with Mario’s expertise, things got a little hairy!

With Mario at the wheel, my two clients took the back which left me and Davide to balance on the front. With the help of a rope from the nose of the boat we tried to brace ourselves against the speed and changes in direction, yet stay bouncy in or legs to compensate for the sudden rise and fall as we crossed waves of various size and shape. This was terrifying at first, but became quite fun once the initial shock had passed, later turning into a pure endurance exercise as the minutes passed by. It was imperative to keep focus, as every time you thought of taking a sneaky break and relaxing, a rouge wave would rock the boat nearly sending you overboard.

The first crossing took around 35 min and brought us to the main island for the day, a truly beautiful place. We spent a few hours climbing on the boulders by the beach before later moving inland to explore a little deeper. Wow, just WOW, this place is really jaw dropping, and during my brief exploration of a few 100m of coast line, I saw some of the best, hardest projects I have ever seen. Think or formations like castle hill, but made of granite, and you are on the right track. I will certainly be back in the future...

Our bodies were exhausted, minds were tired and skin was sore. If my bed had been there, I would have happily fallen into it, but we still had a long way to go. Another channel crossing took us the wrong way to Corsica, which meant visiting another new place, eating great food, but an even longer journey home, in the dark!

The difference in the dark was like night and day (Boom boom)! No longer could you see the waves coming towards you, it became an effort of anticipation. The minutes ticked slowly by as we raced across the black water, occasionally becoming fully airbourne from a bigger than average swell. After 10 minutes I felt finished and struggled to see how I could keep this up for much longer, but time continued to pass, and I continued to stand. 20 minutes and things were still the same, I began to think how similar this was to climbing long endurance routes. You feel like death and can’t imagine how to continue upwards, but as long as you don’t give up and keep battling slowly forwards, it’s amazing how far you can go. Until at some magical moment, you arrive in the port, battered and broken but finished... until the next time.

The following day took us to explore some of the projects I found on the first day in the relaxed and tranquil forests on Caprera Warming up was hard after the activities of the day before, but my body eventually began to feel like it was supposed to, and I got on with the main events. Two top class boulders were climbed, beginning in glorious juggy huecos under a roof, and climbing out two steep arêtes on slopers. The second line in particular was three stars of anyone’s money, and was one of the rare boulders that actually requires a knee-bar.

After succeeding on the standard start, I set about making an extension into it, beginning in my first problem and climbing tiring moves through the hueco filled roof to reach the beginning of problem two. Four tries falling off the same move finally brought success on my fifth attempt, making for one of the best boulders I have done and possibly the hardest on the island.

For my last few hours on the island, David took me to see his “monsters”, an amazing project on amazing rock, that actually turned out to be three lines in one. I cleaned and tried the lines for a short while, but despite managing to climb the various starting sections, couldn’t figure out a way to breach the top slopey section shared by all 3 problems. 25degrees is certainly not ideal conditions for bad granite slopers, so I guess it will have to wait a while for my return later this year...

Caroline Ciavaldini - E8 ground-up!

2011-05-20T12:38:00.004+01:00

With all the commotion after the Muy Caliente/Pembroke raid, followed by Melloblocco, and finally the wonderful Quello Che Non C'e - I almost completely forgot to write about Caroline’s own amazing trad achievement...

The World Cup season is on its way and so training for Caro is getting heavy, but she managed to find a little spare time to fly to England to support me. After I finished with Muy Caliente and the good weather remained, she decided it was time for her to take the lead, and have her own Pembroke Traditional adventure.

Her first trad experience was the classic E3, Pleasure Dome. The climbing was easy and so she could concentrate on spending time to figure out the correct protection. She waltzed along the route, her appearance of complete control only disrupted from time to time when pull-testing gear and a nut would pop out and hit her in the face. E3 is not cutting edge, but it far above the level of the average English climber and almost unimaginable by most as a first trad route - a good sign of things to come.

The next day she wanted to try something harder, and decided to take things to the top, choosing an E8 called Point Blank, that I had climbed earlier in the trip. E8 is the highest level ever been climbed by a Woman in the UK, and on the 3 or 4 times it has been achieved, it has come after the common “headpoint” style of prolonged top-rope practice.

Random, but what better way to celebrate than a birthday game of Paintball - note the orange jumpsuit for our aiming pleasure!

Not only did Caro plan to climb an E8 as her second ever trad route, but she wanted to try it "flash" - first try without any pre-practice - something never before done by a Woman, and only on rare occasion by a few men. Most people would probably think me crazy for letting her do this, but after climbing with Caro every day for the last year, I knew her style, her ability, and how strong her mental control; I was confident she could do it.

She prepared herself at the bottom, and calmly set off to tackle the 40m of hard and scary climbing above. Climbing perfectly; calm and controlled, powerful when needed, relaxed when not, she placed her protection well, and soon was committed to the final hard movements. Fr8a climbing, a long way above her last protection... she looked solid, perfect, but at the final moment just one move before a good hold she slipped from her feet and screamed!

15m in the air before the ropes held her secure. As she spun around suspended in space I was happy she was OK and lowered her to the ground to tell her well done on an amazing effort. The "french proudness" is still something that I don’t fully understand, and rather than be content with an incredible attempt which was so close to success, all Caro did was pull the ropes down and begin climbing again. Even with the adrenalin of the fall making her shake, even with the fatigue in her muscles making her arms feel heavy, all she knew was that she had failed, that she should not have failed, and there was only one thing she was going to do about it.

Another Random - Festa della Placca

She finished the climb about 20min later, having stripped and re-placed all the gear on lead! Her 2nd ever trad route and the first (AFAIK) ever female E8 without practice! Amazing! I was so proud. Sorry for lack of relevant photos, I was too busy belaying, but Dave managed to snap a few. Check out next months Climb for some crackers - I wonder if the lob-shot will make it in...

5.10 Quantum

2011-05-18T13:11:00.002+01:00

My skin is dead after 3 days in Val Di Mello but all is not lost as for the first time in almost 1 week, I have solid, reliable internet access. Many emails need to be read and written, but as I am lazy and have a short attention span, I decided on a break in the shape of this mini review of my favourite shoe, the FiveTen Quantum

So what shall I say, apart from the obvious point of being purple and downturned... Hmmm, maybe this picture can explain a little... my Quantum collection, 3 sizes, boulder, routes, and big wall – these days they are all I wear.

Out of the box the shoes are already good. A little “clumpiness” is expected for the first few sessions, but I was surprised by how quickly these shoes felt “broken in”. The fit is snug, downturned but not too aggressive, and reasonably wide across the front.

The heel feels a little low-cut at first and I was worried to have my usual “heel slip” issues, but actually they have turned out to be more than secure – great in fact. Im not really that gifted with using my heels, especially on really technical placements, and whilst these heels will not work miracles, they have succeeded in surprising me on several occasions, by staying put in awkward and difficult hooks.

Now on to the business end! The toe feels to me the most precise 5.10 toe I have used, and popping off holds unexpectedly is very unusual. The shoe is a medium stiffness, a little too soft for me if I am honest, but stiffer than 5.10’s other recent offerings and so I am making them work. At least with the downturn, the shape shoe holds your foot in place and so the lack of stiffness is not overly noticeable. I mentioned before that I have several sizes of Quantums and that these are now (pretty much) the only shoes I use for all my climbing styles. That last statement should give you an idea of precisely how much I rate these shoes.

Daddy Cool, E8 - Photo David Simmonite

Improvements – I have already mentioned that I would personally like to see the shoes a little stiffer, other than that, some rubber on the toe to help with hooks would be a nice little extra. There is not so much that I would change, in general I’m pretty psyched J

Do You Know Where Your Children Are? E9?

2011-05-10T15:57:00.008+01:00

This route escaped my day to day blogging from Pembroke... and so with a little time on my hands thanks to a Mello-enforced rest day, here it is. Pretty good timing actually as the route saw its first repeat courtesy of Neil Mawsons last weekend. Its always nice to see your routes getting attention, I hope more people follow in Neil's footsteps.

Picture from the first ascent - David Simmonite

Before I begin, I want to ask public opinion of the name of the route. Do You Know Where Your Children Are? is quite an in-depth/obscure reference between friends, which I fear will be lost on 99.9% and may end up being thought of as just a bit shit. Its closest contender was The Hangman's Daughter, which will be obvious to most as the prequel to From Dusk Till Dawn. At the time I thought this was perhaps too cliché, but now I am starting to reconsider...

So there it is, Do You Know Where Your Children Are? or The Hangman's Daughter? Where does popular opinion sit?

After the success on Dusk Till Dawn, I was ready to step things up, it was time to try the project. I felt that if I could make it to the pockets at the start of DTD, I could climb to the top even if I was tired. That meant simply being able to climb a wet E6/7 with rotting fixed gear, directly into a run-out fr8a+ - childs play ;)

We arrived in Huntsman’s a few hours after low tide and so the first few meters were almost dry after their last bath. The same could not be said for the next part, which was badly affected by seepage. Low down the protection was ok, which was a welcome relief as the moves were damn hard, at one point involving fingertip monos in both hands! After this, the moves became a little easier and the gear disappeared – the remains of the shaft of a once proud peg looked apologetically back at me.

I arrived at the separation point, marked by a yellow thread. I had been forced to replace this earlier that day after the original had ripped out in my hand. This was a stark reminder of how we should always show caution with fixed gear on Sea Cliffs. This thread is crucial, and without it, you are looking at certain ground fall from the moves above. On first sight, it looked ok, and I could easily see how someone would have clipped it on an on-sight/flash – potentially setting themselves up for a serious accident. This is probably not the right place to discuss the details of these complex issues, but I feel its important they are addressed soon, by the “correct” people, whoever they may be?

Picture from the first ascent - David Simmonite

I recovered quite well on a pair of steep jugs, and after fiddling in the 3 micro-wires (1 good, 2 questionable) felt in with a high chance of sticking the next section. Long move, strange hold, bad feet, long move, strange hold, bad feet... you get the picture. In the middle of this section you slap into a big fat sidepull, which due to being a bit better than the other holds, serves as a rest point before the final hard section. From this sidepull you can also place some gear – a micro-wire threaded over an old rusty peg, and a decorative nut in your previous slopey left hand slot which has a tendency to fall out.

This gear is a bit of an unknown quantity as it was untested even with just body weight. If it holds, you will be ok, it it fails, well, you might still be ok, but it would be a long and scary few seconds before finding out. A few small crimps and more bad feet bring you to the redpoint crux. After matching the footholds of the crux of DTD, you must toe-in on a high left edge and make a LONG rockover to the glorious pockets!

I almost began to relax, but fortunately realised that I was only halfway through the crux of DTD, with only one hand and low shitty feet. A few more seconds of focus brought me to good holds and good gear. I was significantly more tired than before, and as I collected my thoughts and was thankful to have climbed this section before as I now had familiarity with the holds and moves. Knowing that the rest of the route should cause no further problems allowed me to really relax and enjoy the experience. The climbing on the lower wall is superb, some of the best rock and moves I have climbed in a while, and I felt lucky to have been in the right place, at the right time, in the right shape to do it.

As for the grade of the route, which I’m sure will sadly be the first, and in some case only thing people are interested in. My opinion is that the level of climbing is a step up from similar routes in Pembroke, and is a little more “dangerous”. There is a medium run-out through the entire crux to reach the peg, which may or may not hold. After this you climb a further few moves (redpoint crux) to join DTD, where you still have to climb the crux of this route to reach the next good gear. Climb DTD to the top but without the bomber gear in the crack, which is not too much of a concern at this point. If the peg rips, I have no idea what would happen – to be honest, I never thought I would fall so didn’t take the time to check the dimensions out.

I am certain someone could flash the route with relative ease, and if it had been an existing route, I would have given it a good go. The climbing through the crux is complex and a little blind so would make for a difficult on-sight, but as ~8a+ is not exactly the living end, someone fit could hang around for a while to figure things out. The main thing I want to stress is just how cool the climbing is, wouldn’t it be nice if for once people talked about how pretty it looks and how motivated they are to try it? Maybe I spend too much time living on my little pink cloud, oh well, it’s nice up here, I think I’ll stay...

Get down there and check it out.

Muy Caliente E10 - Flash, so close...

2011-05-05T22:50:00.007+01:00

Whilst it might have seemed to many people that I had dropped off the face of the earth (and I would probably include some of my sponsors, friends and family in those people), I was simply taking a step away from what I knew, and wondering how differently things would appear from another viewpoint.

Jacob Schroedel

I knew that things would change, they had to - the trouble was I just didn’t know quite how. I wanted to better myself by training my weaknesses, but knew that since my strengths lay in trad, that is where I should eventually point my focus. In the beginning, time seemed plentiful and I did not concern myself with the finer details of the future, but as weeks turned into months, months into years, I began to wonder what exactly this future would hold…

Then one day, not unlike many others, news reached me of Tim Emmett making the first ascent of “Muy Caliente”, Pembroke’s and Wales’ first E10, and all became clear. I’m not really sure why the idea first came to me, as it was so far above what I had achieved before, so far above what anyone had achieved before, that it should have struck me as ridiculous and been dismissed immediately. But there it was, planted firmly amongst my brain cells, and it began to grow - the idea to attempt to “flash” E10.

I knew I needed to develop many parts of my climbing, not only the obvious ingredient of my fitness, but also things like my mental approach, sequential memory, reactions under pressure etc. Things started slowly and became more structured as the time grew near. It never felt too intense as I was never 100% focused on the goal, which may sound a little blasé, but was something I decided early on because of how improbable the goal was. The chance of failure was so high for many reasons, and as with all flashes, you only ever get one shot! The main goal, I told myself, was to go and climb the route. This would be a big enough achievement, being one of only a few confirmed E10’s and far away from my previously preferred style – anything else would be a big bonus. After all the hard work was finished and all the planning had been made, all that remained was to try.

Before throwing myself in at the deep end, I decided to sharpen my trad skills with a few days of classic cragging. “Ghost Train” (E6), “Hysteria” (E5), “Out of my Mind” (E5), and “From a Distance” (E7) were all ticked and I felt good – time to try something a little harder.

The first of the E8’s to fall on-sight was “Point Blank” (E8), a long and sustained wall climb with good spaced gear and big air potential. The climbing is around Fr8a and so would normally be a fairly comfortable on-sight, but the lack of chalk and confusing nature of the rock made for an exciting time on the top wall.

Point Blank - David Simmonite

Next up was something at the other end of the spectrum, a bold E8 slab on the sandstone of Carreg y Barcud. I flashed “Daddy Cool” (E8) after cleaning the route from my ab line, which I was especially happy with due to the nature of the climb. The climbing is easy, but falling is not an option, and despite the danger I stayed cool and composed, making my 3rd E8 without pre-practice.

Daddy Cool - David Simmonite

“From Dusk Till Dawn” (E8) looked amazing! A beautiful flowy wall of Pink and White Limestone, climbed via fun looking moves with bomber protection. Unfortunately, the bottom 2/3 (Terminal Twilight) was wet, but fortunately, there were enough good holds to make it possible, and after a little fight I got stuck into the main event. The moves were as good as expected, and I flashed the route with a big smile on my face.

Climbing “From Dusk Till Dawn” introduced me to my current favourite route in Pembroke, the project wall that would soon become “Do you know where your children are?” (E9). This smooth white wall would lead from the start of The Black Lagoon, directly into From Dusk Till Dawn via a series of hard reachy moves of exceptional quality. From a good thread at 12m the climbing gets hard and you run it out to an old rusty peg. Thread this with a nut, tell yourself it is solid, and commit to the remaining hard moves (crux) to join the pockets of Dusk Till Dawn, which after the moves below come as a pleasant relief.

I felt fit, I was climbing well, and felt completely happy climbing far above my gear – it was time to get serious. The first stage of the process involved watching my friends climbing on the route and trying to remember as much information as possible.

They told me about the handholds, the footholds, how each move felt, and where they thought I might find hard. I tried to process all their advice, re-arrange it into an understandable order and make it second nature. Once I began climbing, any pause to try to remember a move would cost me valuable energy, any hesitation on a slappy move might break my rhythm, and any incorrect hold might make me fall, making all the hard work go to waste.

I woke up feeling nervous, the first time in a long time. I warmed up feeling nervous, ate lunch feeling nervous and abed in feeling nervous. It wasn’t so much the danger that was getting to me but the fear of failing, blowing my one chance at the thing I have invested so much in. On-sighting and flashing are different to every day climbing as there is only ever one chance. One shot, one opportunity, if you mess up you mess up forever. Say the conditions are bad, the rock is greasy, a hold is wet, your too tired from the route before, your skin is sore, mentally tired... the list goes on, lots of things to think about!

Or is there?

One thing I keep hearing, and keep saying, is when you are truly climbing well, your mind is empty. Almost as if you are temporarily existing on a different plane, you stop thinking and begin to flow. Thinking about not thinking is an obvious contradiction, and so to help me out I called on a little mind and motivation control, some pounding Breakbeats for my ears. I don’t usually climb listening to music, but regularly use it to help with motivation during training and figured it was worth a try. I pressed play, entered a different world, and started moving up.

The lower wall flowed just like I hoped it would, a hard section of moves with small holds and bad feet did not faze me and I arrived at better holds knowing that I could rest a little before making the moves to place the gear. It’s strange to be in such a dangerous place and not even think about the danger; 9m above the gear and 19m above the floor are not comfy numbers, these are the times when you need to be your most relaxed and do what is necessary to make yourself safe.

The nut was unobvious and a little awkward to place. Even when seated well it just didn’t look right and I placed and replaced it several times. When finally I was happy, I made the next awkward sequence to clip the thread and place the cam, and carried on directly towards the final boulder. This is where it all came down to; this is where I had been focused on all along.

Muy Caliente - David Simmonite

The bottom section was generally simple and secure climbing, if you were strong and stated calm things would most likely be ok. But the top, the top was a different story. Technical, balancey climbing on awkward holds was not what I wanted to deal with after all the mental and physical effort below.

I was happy to find the two rest holds comfortable, allowing me to recover and focus on the section above. Things felt good and I was happy, but as I looked down at the future footholds, worry started to grow inside me and I began to feel heavy. The handholds were becoming greasy, recovery had stopped, I forced myself to move.

The left foot was small. I perched on it, reached the left sidepull, and was surprised by how small it was. I tried to take it like Caroline had told me, but couldn’t find the position and decided to push on regardless. The next foot was almost non-existent, but stuck with a little faith allowing me to move my left foot up to a small edge. Here is where my planned sequence failed, I couldn’t find the body position so decided to “feel” instead.

I lifted my right foot to a very bunched position and suddenly realised I was in reaching distance of the finishing hold. I almost couldn’t believe it and excitedly started moving my right hand towards the incut edge, surprised at how solid I felt. As my fingers came close to the hold my body position shifted and I began to tip away, I quickly reached out for the hold, catching the very edge with my fingertips as my left hand exploded off the sidepull. A tiny moment where I half believed I had caught the hold came and went. That empty feeling in my belly told me I was falling. I screamed and swore. The dream was dead.

I felt the little Daemon growing inside of me. I didn’t sleep well, and was distant to say the least during the next morning. My mind was full again of thoughts... What if I had rested longer, why didn’t I take the sidepull correctly, and what if I had slapped faster? Whilst useful from an analytical point of view, these thoughts did nothing to change the fact that the flash had failed. I needed to take the positive things and move forwards, learn from my experience and plan my next attempt. Which is where things get complicated again, as I found the idea of getting back on the lead quite frightening.

I thought about taking a few days of rest to give my mind and body time to relax, but with every hour that passed the little Daemon grew, and I was well aware that he could grow to be quite a size by the time I returned. I needed to get it out of the way, I knew I could do it, I just needed to be even more focused than before. The new knowledge gained would be useful, but it was of the utmost importance not to be blasé. The route would feel hard and needed respect, I expected this and was prepared to give.

My music went on, a different mix from Yesterday, Krafty Kuts – Fresh Kuts volume 2. The first 10m passed as expected, the threads were clipped, I rested, next stop the top…

The run-out was fine, and I arrived at the gear pretty fresh. Conditions were not great, but I compensated by climbing faster, moving quickly from hold to hold, not allowing the grease to build up. The rest holds before the crux were soon in my hands. I would have moved almost straight away but I needed to stay for a few minutes to allow a numb finger to regain feeling. I looked at the holds, looked at the feet, but this time felt light instead of heavy and committed to the moves with fresh enthusiasm.

I took the sidepull as Caroline had suggested, this time my fingers found the correct place and my thumb pinched the vital spot. My feet worked in the same way as before, and in no time at all I was back at the final move. This time there was no hesitation, my body locked in position, my hand reached up to the edge, it was finished!

David Simmonite

Dusk Till Dawn E8 - Flash

2011-04-26T10:46:00.006+01:00

The Bottom of Terminal Twilight looked like a river, which seemed to put an premature end to my plan of flashing the beautiful “Dusk Till Dawn”, an E8 established last year by Dave Pickford. Hopeful that the slimy torrent was simply the result of rain before my arrival, I asked Dave about his experience on the route, only to find out he had been forced to wait until late summer for the beginning to dry in order to make his ascent. Merde!

Dusk Till Dawn (traverse in from the above the orange thread on the left) and the full line of the project (begins from the low right chalk)

I remembered hearing a rumour about a potential direct start, so with some time to kill one day I decided to lower down the wall to look for myself. After lowering past the existing section of DTD (I still had dreams to flash this route so trying it was off bounds), which looked even more beautiful close up, I began searching out the holds from the featureless rock and was surprised to find a complete sequence. The route would begin up The Black Lagoon for the first 13m, and as the rock changes from murky grey into pinky white, move directly up the wall to join DTD at the end of its initial traverse, 10m above. From here, one simply has to climb directly into the crux of DTD, without any of the bomber gear, and finish up this route to the top of the cliff.

The moves were hard but all possible, and the start was in slightly better condition than Terminal Twilight, making the whole line seem very possible given a little concentrated psyche and effort. The only thing that held me back, was the fact I still wanted to flash DUD, and by devoting myself to this new line, I would be throwing away that chance. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that there was a serious runnout during the hard section, which would quickly turn out to be a very serious runout if the rusty old peg I planned to tie off turned out to be as unreliable as it looked. Scary!

A few days passed and still no rain, I hoped and prayed that TT would be dry(er) but from the cliff top, all seemed the same. I decided to lower in to the leap anyway just in case my long sight was deceptive, it wasn’t. Water was still running down the cliff, but over enough “big jugs” that I thought things might be possible. Caroline joined me at the bottom, this would be her first “real” experience of belaying hard trad and I wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible. I gave her a quick briefing of what I planned to do, where I expected it to be hard, and where I planned to place protection, gave her a quick kiss and set off, trying to appear as relaxed as possible.

Copyright David Simmonite

Unfortunately, the bottom of the wall was still dripping from its recent submersion, and despite how positive the holds were, the 6b moves right off the floor came as quite a shock causing a few grunts to escape my lips. After prolonged shuffling up the wet rock, which was a little spicy at one point due to the demise of 2 pegs , I finally found myself at the junction with Dusk Till Dawn, a good rest and bomber gear.

From here the route moves right for a few moves into the centre of the wall, after which it climbs directly to the top via a series of strange holds and good rests. I tried to remember everything I had seen in the video of Dave Pickford (Psyche 2), internalising the sequence of moves whilst focusing on my breathing. A quick thumbs up told Caroline I was ready, and I stepped right with a long move into a two finger pocket. I will not go into too much detail, but will say the climbing on this section is some of the best and most enjoyable I had done for months. Perfect holds, pleasant interesting moves, and bomber gear – the only thing missing (according to Caroline) was a section of steep tufa! I guess you can’t have it all…

Daddy Cool E8 - Flash

2011-04-23T11:07:00.004+01:00

Years ago I remember seeing a picture of this route in an old copy of Climb. I recall a mirror like wall, a solitary climber looking longingly at an even more solitary looking peg, and all above a horrible stepped rocky landing. The route looked great, yet horrendous at the same time, and I was fascinated, intrigued, but also repelled.

My first hard traditional routes were usually bold and insecure. I was too weak to climb hard routes any other way, but after coming very close to slipping from a dangerous slab route in the Peak District shortly after my 18^th birthday, I told myself from that day forward I would try to avoid insecure death slabs, and only climb dangerous routes when there were actual holds to pull on. I needed to know that my physical level was higher than the climb, so even if something went wrong I could dip into the reserve tank and pull a little harder to get out. You can’t pull harder on smears – if your foot slips, you are gone!

The weather in South Pembroke was a little damp and so to salvage the day we decided to drive north to the miniature city of St Davids. Flicking through the guide, we decided on Carreg y Barcud as it was possible to climb a lot of the routes at all tides, and it just so happened that Carreg y Barcud was also home to “Daddy Cool”.

After the successes of the last few days my confidence was pretty high, but at the same time I felt very intimidated by the description of the route from the guide and the internet. “Protectionless slab”, “increasingly thin moves”, “first gear at 45ft and the landing is pretty shocking” were just a few of the descriptions running round in my head. I didn’t like the idea of top-roping the route, but perhaps going for an onsight/flash was a little reckless as I was completely unfamiliar with the style of this wall and rock, nor had I climbed any slabs, let alone dangerous ones for many years.

As I popped my head over the top of the wall, I got the fear! From the top it was difficult to gauge the size of the wall, all I could see was the lack of features, the lonely peg, and the crashing waves far below. Abbing in was a different story, as to the left of the static was a line of perfectly chalked edges. Suddenly the wall changed and became much friendlier, the wall seemed smaller, the holds looked great, and I instantly found myself in a much happier place.

After un-coiling the ropes and sorting my gear whilst waiting to be joined by the others, I looked up again at the previously friendly wall, only to be greeted by terrifying blankness. I could not see a single trace of chalk, not even tell where the route lead, as all of the holds were now perfectly disguised with their surroundings. This place was like a hall of mirrors, making reality morph and transform depending on how you looked.

After warming up I began to feel more comfortable as my familiarity with the wall grew. I climbed a line to the left of “Daddy Cool”, which offered fantastic and hard climbing well protected by good wires, and was spoiled only by a tiny bit of vegetation on the upper wall. From this line, I could see some of the holds on Daddy cool and they looked ok. I remembered something Charlie had said about the moves being quite easy up until the final move to the break and started to feel a little bit more confident about my chances without pre-practice.

The line of Daddy Cool!

As Keith was taking a rest day and I wouldn’t have the comfy option of watching him try the moves, I abed back down the route to clean and chalk the holds as at least I would be able to visualise the moves better from the ground, and also be certain that the holds were free of lichen. The definitions of on-sight and flash seem clear at first, but on closer inspection become very grey areas. I believe it comes down to personal judgement and common sense, which is always going to leave room for abuse, but should also excuse us the ridiculous task of creating strict, finite criteria for an infinite number of situations.

For me, abseiling down a route to clean a holds sits somewhere between the two. As long as you don’t touch the holds/try the gear, you will receive more information than an on-sight, but much less than a good flash, where you learn the sequence, the holds, the correct gear, and many other useful little titbits.

I set off with an idea of the sequence that turned out to be around 50% correct. The other 50% was made up on the fly, which was fortunately not too taxing as there were several good crimps where you could stand a lot of weight on your feet. After placing a psychological friend in a vertical flared crack, and having a mini-moment with an “about to break off crimp, I arrived at the crux. A series of 3 awkward moves, the last of which was the most awkward of all lead to the sanctuary of the mid height break and much needed gear. I calmed my breathing, climbed to the last crimp, placed my right foot uncomfortably high on an uncomfortably small edge... and 2 seconds later, I was safe.

Rather than clip the peg on the right, and then traverse for a few more meters rightwards to the easier E6 6b, I chose to skip the peg, and climb 2 moves left into the harder E6 6c. The line seemed a little more direct, and avoided the use of (what seemed to be) the only piece of fixed gear on the wall, plus the climbing is fantastic, hard, and quite sustained which made for an overall great continuous route. The obvious challenge of the direct finish remains, but will be one hell of a piece of slab climbing!

Point Blank

2011-04-23T10:56:00.003+01:00

Keith had previously revelled about his experience on an E5 called “Out of my Mind”, that last year he had tried and backed off from after getting out of his mind with fear and pump. The tide was in, “Ghost Train” looked even wetter than before, and so warm up routes were in short supply – time to get a little out there...

The first challenge of the day was to access the belay stance, involving a timed dash across a wave washed platform. At times the waves were mellow, barely covering your feet, but then all of a sudden a huge mass of white water would roll in, and roll out again as a giant frothing waterfall – scary. Once crossed, we racked up, flaked the rope and set off. The sun was shining intensely on the wall, glistening off the shiny limestone making things difficult see. Thankfully, I had sunglasses, unluckily Keith did not, and by the time I has slowly wobbled my way to the top he was complaining of sunstroke – poor baby!

I had forgotten how slow Trad climbing was, and by the time we had finished the warm up, it was already time for lunch and a lie-down in the sun. Today was not as windy as yesterday, which made relaxing all the more pleasant, but worried me slightly in regards to conditions on the route. Luckily, the west wall of the ford is in the shade for most of the day, and so by the time we lowered into place, the rock was pretty cold – no excuses... time to roll...

After extending the peg on “From a Distance” I surveyed the line of holds leading diagonally left and began to asses my options. When the rock in this cliff is free from chalk, its exceptionally difficult to see even a few holds ahead of you, and so on-sighting here comes down to staying calm, thinking quickly, and a good helping of luck. The first section went pretty well, with only a brief pause to find the best crozzle to crimp in an otherwise slopey hold. After a few more moves on better edges, a long reach lead to a very good one-hand slot and a bomber no.0 friend, which allowed a short rest and chance to plan the moves through the impending run-out.

After a few minutes, I admitted to myself that I did not have a clue! All I could see were the double barrel pockets 6m above, and as my only other option involved staying where I was for an indefinite period of time, I decided on pushing upwards, a little blind but full of hope. After a lot of feeling around and a few awkward moments, I found enough small edges and slopers to reach the twin pockets. Whilst good enough to relax a little, they were not jugs, nor did they take any easy gear, and so onwards I pressed until the sanctuary of the top break finally came – perhaps 10m from the last friend.

Point Blank Photo Shoot - Lucy Ham

Even more so than being happy with my fitness level, I am happy with my head and how it responds to being far above protection. I was worried about the getting the shakes, which makes for a fast and heavy pump, usually quickly followed by a fall, but luckily it has not been the case. The gear here tends to be very solid, and once I have the correct piece placed, I treat it exactly the same as a bolt. There is no worry that it might come out, the only concern is the climbing, and not falling simply to avoid failing.

Developing my sport fitness has changed my climbing more than I would have ever imagined. Apart from the obvious act of no longer falling off after doing more than 5 hard moves, I am approaching climbing in a different way to before. After a frustrating plateau period, climbing has become exciting again, as I can now see a path to where I want to be. The path is not going to be easy, in fact it is full of rocks and very steep, but it is a path none the less.

When I viewed life wearing the blinkers of a UK Trad climber, on-sighting E8 was something I considered as almost godly, but now I realise it is far, far away from what is possible even at this current time, let alone in the future. Sure, there are many E8’s that I wouldn’t dream of attempting in this manner, climbs that whilst perhaps technically easy, are so insecure in a deadly place, that I personally can’t justify. However, there are just as many E8’s and above that are well protected but physically hard, that become possible once ones physical level surpasses a certain point. You just have to be able to hold on...

Pembroke...

2011-04-17T09:36:00.004+01:00

Believe it or not, I have never climbed at Pembroke!

With hundreds of 3* routes, loads and loads of amazing e6’s and 7’s next to one another, usually with good pro and good holds, Pembroke is without doubt one of the best trad climbing areas in the UK, if not the World. However, there is one small problem, at least it was a problem for me in the past...

...because of all the good holds and good gear, the routes here tend to be quite pumpy for the given grades! Trad climbing for sports climbers – if you can place wires and are fit, there are few places better. The trouble was, being a predominantly a grit climber and boulder, fit is something I definitely was not, and so I avoided it like the plague.

When I first moved to Austria in 2009, my original plan was to develop my sport endurance to improve my trad climbing for my scheduled return in 2010. The move to Bristol never happened, but my original idea remained strong and for the last year and a half I have been beavering away in foreign lands waiting for a time I would be inspired enough, and feel ready enough to return.

Late 2010 brought me the inspiration I had waited for, and all that remained was to put in a few month graft to get in good shape. With the help of someone cute and French, my sport climbing progressed faster than expected, soon surpassing the level I have hoped to achieve. With 2 months still to go before my planned departure date, it suddenly dawned on me that my distant plans made 2 years before, could actually materialise. All I needed to do was not get injured, and then not get scared...

With a couple of weeks to go, I felt it was a good idea to re sharpen my pro-placing skills and so spent a day in Cadarese climbing some sport cracks on trad gear. You can read in detail about this day in an old blog post, but for those short on time, I will sum up the day by saying I was surprised at how different the same route feels when you climb it on bolts or gear. Even with solid, regular protection, the route is an entirely different proposition, and the overall difficulty increases significantly. This concerned me a little, and left me wondering how I would cope with fiddling in small wires and then running it out above...

We raced down to St Govans on Friday afternoon. Even with a potential 15 days to spend here, I was so excited to get on the rock we literally ran to the cliff to make the most of the final hour of daylight. “Ghost Train” (E6) was to be the route of choice, but as we neared the top of the ford, things looked a little soggy. I wasn’t exactly sure of the line and hoped that on closer inspection I would find the wet patches just off route. Sadly, the wet streak began just above the infamous runout, and continued down the wall to just above the first big threads soaking everything in its path. The holds looked big and so I considered my chances anyway as Keith abed in. It was a momentary case of excitement overruling common sense, but Keith raised his concerns, which was enough to convince me it was a bad idea.

The next morning dawned sunny and warm. On arriving at the cliff, the route seemed to be dryer, and so once again we set up the ab rope and lowered in. Holds at the end of the runout were still wet but the section below seemed almost dry and I decided the light was green. Wow, its a good old way between those two threads and the final holds were a little wetter than expected! Fortunately I was very happy to find myself fit enough to relax and treat them with care, as I cautiously made the final slimy moves to safety. “Ghost Train” is such a fun route, and with all those threads it is “practically” a clip-up. One wire in 45 meters is not too bad – I highly recommend it.

After a pleasant E5 with Keith and a break in the sun for lunch, the time again came to drop into the Ford for the final route of the day. “From a Distance” (E7) looked like a good route to try for a sport climber as it is well protected by nuts and threads, but at a suggested sport grade of 7c, has the potential to be quite pumpy.

On sighting is always much more difficult than other styles when sport climbing, but when trad climbing it has the potential to be even trickier. Not only do you need to find the line of the route, which is not defined by a series of shiny bolts or perma-chalk, you then need to find the correct holds, the gear placements, and then the correct piece of gear. Even before setting off on the climb you are faced with complex decisions of what protection, and how much of it to take. Unlike sport climbing, it is nearly impossible to look at a route and judge what protection is required. The last thing you want is to run out of a crucial piece at the end of a long run-out, but at the same time, setting off with an unnecessary 10kg of surplus gear is far from helpful.

I guessed “From a Distance” had not been climbed in a while, as the route was completely free of chalk. The few tatty threads gave me an idea of where to go, but apart from that, climbing the route involved lots of feeling around and searching for the right holds, resting in awkward places only to discover a jug two moves higher. The route was quite a journey and packed in a lot of different styles throughout its length, from a bold lower wall, to a well protected boulder problem, awkward to read shuffling, a technical slab and ballancy run-out upper wall.

I was psyched to on-sight it, but more psyched to feel comfortable climbing tricky moves above my own gear. Whilst I still feel I lack a little speed in selecting and making placements, once I have good gear in place, I am completely confident about climbing past it and am able to focus entirely on the climbing. This is a good starting point to be at, and I am hopeful things will get better and better over the coming week.

One final thing, just before I go, is to warn any future repeaters about the loss of holds from the crux. This occurred under the heavy hand of Keith whilst attempting to second me. I’m not sure how much it affects things, but he seems to think it was quite a big piece of rock. I guess I will find out tomorrow when I try to on-sight “Point Blank” (E8), a wild looking route just to the left, sharing the same start.

Tricks of the Trade...

2011-04-06T17:52:00.002+01:00

The life of a climber is often not as glamorous as people think. Travelling the world can be tough, waking up every day in a beautiful place, with fresh air and great friends quickly gets old, and the well defined physique we get without any real effort is not as magnetic to the opposite sex as you have been lead to believe...

Ok, ok, so the life of a climber is actually pretty cool, and we are essentially gods amongst mortals. But there is one down side - we are naturally stingy with our hard earned cash. Deep pockets and short arms can find us in some uncomfortable situations, but fear no more, because here is one of the best, to show you how to play it like a pro!

2011-04-03T18:43:00.001+01:00

Oh I do like to be beside the sea side, oh I do like to be beside the sea, however I’d rather be 4 hours further up the road sat at my parents home than waiting in a cafe in Ramsgate for my car to be MOT’d and serviced so I can legally drive again on UK roads, oh I do like to be beside the sea!

England, I thank you for not raining on me, if you could keep it up for a few more weeks I would be very grateful! A few weeks too much? How about a few days at least? No? Ok, then back to crossing my fingers...

First stop (not counting wonderful Ramsgate) is my parent’s house to store some of my belongings, tidy up a few loose ends, and perhaps say hi to my Mum and Dad if I get the chance. Regularly seeing the old King and Queen is one of the few things I miss about living in England, and so I always really appreciate my little visits back home, even if it is a constant battle to avoid being over fed. After a few rest days to recover from the drive and last phase of my training, I hope to get in a day or so of gritstone, before leaving once again for pastures new and my project.

I feel in good shape, in fact, the best shape ever (hopefully this doesn’t sound too narcissistic or over self focused) but one of the exciting things about climbing is how specific each route can be, and so one can never really know how they will feel until the time arrives. I tried to tailor my training to be specific to my goals, climbing similar moves, similar length, similar style, but all the time being wary of not being too narrow minded, as it is amazing at how good you can become in a specific exercise without actually improving your level.

Whilst we have been training lots indoors, both Caro and I know the importance of maintaining an affinity with real rock and so we try to make one or two outside sessions per week. Two of these recent sessions have been pretty interesting for me, and it is to these sessions that I will dedicate my next few blogs...

Preparation...

2011-03-23T08:34:00.007Z

Things are going well, which as I type this brings a smile to my face, and for a brief moment I even considered marking the occasion with an elegant and refined self-portrait. I'm sure you know the sort - tops off, slap on the baby oil, flip the mood lighting and stare moodily into the distance – but unfortunately, I can’t find my favourite pair of aviators, and you know as well as I do that a portrait without aviators is no portrait at all.

The reason for this blog is that the day I depart these snowy lands to return to England is drawing near. I planned to talk about how strong I feel both physically and mentally, about the preparation I have made to increase my concentration and performance under pressure, and how I feel it will be to return to hard trad after such a long time away.

However, my gooning groupies are on holiday this week (everyone needs a break once in a while - even from the best job in the world) and so my overly indulged ego is feeling a little fragile today. I fear being accused of narcissism for the second time in a week would likely be a blow from which I would not recover, so instead of continuing to talk about myself and my life, this blog will be from now on dedicated to the best of British - Fish and Chips and Galaxy Chocolate.

And talking about Chips and Chocolate – I have to give a big shout out to the good old cup of Tea. Enhancing both sweet and savoury, is there a more versatile and appreciated drink? Answers on a postcard please...

Groupies - Check, Tops off - Check, Aviators - Check! Is any more proof needed?

OK, Time to be serious... If the above few paragraphs seem a little more eccentrically out of place than normal, you should head on over to UKClimbing to read the amusing (if a little lengthy) forum thread discussing my mental condition. Whilst I am flattered that people are so interested in the inner workings of my mind, I can’t help but feel that there must be more important things to discuss? I'm not entirely sure how much (or little) of the content was serious, but regardless, it is one of the funniest things I have seen in a while.

On with the show...

Here are a couple of photos from the weekend, sampling the brilliant trad climbing at Cadarese, Italy.

Mustang 8a, Cadarese - Photo Riky Felderer

Despite training harder than ever and being in the best shape physically, I know that trad is an often difficult and delicate mistress to please and I felt it was important to spend a few days reminding myself of her subtleties.

Cadarese is a bit of an anomaly in Euro granite as the entire place is made up of splitter, after splitter, after splitter. Development began around 8 years ago, and as is usual in these parts the main sector was fully bolted. Three years ago, Riky Felderer and friends began to develop an adjacent area that became known as “The Crack Party” and since then, perfectly protectable trad routes have been established up to 8a/+.

I began the day warming up in the main sector, climbing a very fun full body experience 7a+, followed by the sectors current hardest route, the 8a+ “Once Upon a/Beslan Memorial” combination. Beslan is a wonderful route, with two distinctly different crux sections, but most importantly follows perfect hand and finger cracks for most of its length – Time to bring out the friends!

The first thing I noticed when racking up for a trad route after an extended sport period is how heavy the gear is. Stepping off the floor, one immediately feels the effects of all the extra metal as it swings back and forth below your hips. Secondly, it is so much slower than leading a sport pitch, even with very simple protection.Every placement has to be found, judged, selected, (often reselected if you are bad at stage 2), placed, tested, and finally clipped. This process breaks up any rhythm, vastly slowing down the climbing and increasing the time hanging off your hands – and all this before we even go into the mental aspect of trading.

The lead went well, and despite having a bit of a tussle to seat the final crucial .5 friend and getting majorly pumped in the process, the last 5m run-out on slopey crimps passed without too much drama. This was a relief for reasons more than simply ticking the route, as my England project is in a similar style to this final section – its confidence inspiring to know that I can perform well on crimps despite being pumped silly and far above protection.

Up next was Mustang, the route from the above pictures, and a route I had been drooling over since Riky shared with me a picture from the year before. After an easy hand crack for 10m, one finds themselves at a brief rest point, with a tiny finger lie-back crack the only way to the belay, 12 meters above. The climbing begins with a technical, delicate sequence, and finishes with a burly, pumpy sprint, with the transition between the two extremes bringing the crux.Unfortunately, the crack was not entirely dry, and after a careless foot swap the damp crack spat me off on my onsight attempt.

After another slip, I worked out the secret of staying on the rock. By keeping my hands and feet close together I could apply even pressure directly to the rock, no twisting or extending made for very powerful climbing, but atleast I could stay on the wall. Placing protection was difficult due to the small size of the crack and the powerful body positions. Small friends have small lobes, which means a small margin for error when placing them – it doesn’t take much change in the rock for one of the lobes to miss its placement. To be able to confidently commit to the climbing, you need to invest a lot of energy in placing the gear. Its a bit of a catch 22 situation, but ho-hum, it all adds to the fun, and after a big fight I made it to the top. One of the best!

I’m back in Innsbruck, resting my skin for something big... Ill tell you more soon.

The Return Of The Jedi

2011-03-14T09:15:00.006Z

The Return Of The Jedi... Photo: Copyright David Simmonite

A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, I promised you a detailed description of my latest grit route “The Return of the Jedi”; a great little arête in Bank Quarry, climbed on boxing day last year. As seems to be the norm these days, I have been mega busy over her in Austria training and preparing for another English project in the near future, which if all goes well, should be a really exciting time... But before I start going into details of what is yet to come, I need to go back and put right the past!

So, my project...

The Line... and the landing!

Shortly after starting climbing, I was introduced to 2 “projects” in a small, dirty quarry, not far from my parent’s house. The quarry was not the most inspiring place, but these 2 lines were simply stunning and I decided I had to climb them – the only problem was, back then I couldn’t even move up the featureless overhanging rock!

I sporadically returned over the next few years as my climbing improved, and on Boxing Day 2004 I made the first ascent of “The Power of the Dark Side”, an awesome route up a slightly overhanging fridge, and a route I still consider to be one of my very best. At around fr7a+ the climbing was relatively easy, but as the route took no protection and climbed over a terrible landing, leading it was a pretty intimidating prospect.

The main project still remained, and from time to time I would wander up from my Parents to have a play, gradually working out the moves and developing an idea of how the route would one day climb. Three dynos/slaps (where my feet would often cut), linked together by several other powerful insecure moves, all above another horrible landing. I knew the line was possible but I also knew it was damn hard, and for one reason or another, I never found the motivation to lay siege and get on the “sharp end”.

Yet another session...

The quarry (and its projects) were unknown by all but the most esoteric explorers, and this gave me comfort; my little project was not in any danger of being snatched up from under my nose, I could sit back and relax in the knowledge it would be waiting, should I ever feel like the time had come. That was until the new Froggatt guide was published earlier this year, including detailed information about all the Matlock quarries, and a nice picture topo which includes my line as the “E9 Project”. Shit! My secret was out, I needed to act...

Boxing Day 2010 dawned clear and crisp. Persistent snow still covered the ground; if the route was dry, conditions could be prime. After abseiling to clean the route I returned home to warm up. Pulling on the rough gritstone edges on the side of my home brought childhood memories flooding back; a lot has changed for me over the last few years, there has been good and bad, happy and sad, but all of it has served to make me stronger, in many senses of the word.

A very cold Caroline...

Caroline offered to be GriGri girl for the day, and the two of us made our way to the quarry, neither really knowing what to expect. This would be her first experience of belaying a hard grit route, and it would be my first time on the route since failing to even do the moves during my last visit; what was going to happen was anyone’s guess. Climbing the route first try on toprope came as a big surprise! The rock felt grippy under my skin, the holds felt big under my fingers, and the moves that were once so hard, now came easily. I knew it was on...

During my time away in Chad, I noticed a big change in my mentality towards trad routes. Rather than look at and plan for all the negative points – where will it feel hard, where will I get pumped, where will I feel scared, where can I sneak a no hands rest... I now found myself excited to try, eager to see what challenges lay ahead, confident that I was fit enough and strong enough to succeed. The same could be said about this project – leading it would be fun.

“The Power of the Dark Side” was named after a pair of Christmas socks, and in keeping with the idiot Star Wars theme, I’m calling this new one “The Return of the Jedi”. I placed a couple of boulder pads at the base of the route that made it a much safer proposition than it would be without. I still believe that it’s not possible to offer an E grade for a grit route climbed with pads, simply because of the potentially limitless amount of protection they can offer. For me it was E x, for the next ascent with more pads it may be E x – y, and the one after with less pads, E x + y, with y being dependent on the number, size, and quality of your foam.

The Return Of The Jedi... Photo: Copyright David Simmonite

HXS 7a explains as much, or as little as you need to know. In other money it is perhaps F8a+ to toprope and would be a fierce little offering with a couple of bolts – from the floor to the ledge it is slap slap slap, no time to stop and chalk! With enough pads and big balls you could possibly consider the bottom section a highball boulder, but the top of the route is pretty far from the floor and still has a tricky move. I chose to take a rope and place some (bad) gear, if nothing else it kept Caroline smiling until the ordeal was over.

I’m really made up to finally finish off this duo! It’s a strange little place, but the lines are both 3*, the first projects I ever tried, and only a few hundred meters from my house – how about that!

To see a small gallery from the route, as well as a video of the first ascent, check out realbigpimp.in...

2011-03-10T18:08:00.001Z

After a near fatal hard disk failure, I just started to sort out my archives and began to upload a few new videos. Check out the Video section in my portfolio @ realbigpimp.in

Here is Progression...

Tafraoute's dirty little secret...

2011-02-24T09:52:00.005Z

Arrival...

At first you feel like you have died and gone to heaven, a bouldering heaven decorated with palm trees and coloured carpets; but fairly quickly Tafraoute reveals its dirty little secret.

Very rough, very sandy, and very frustrating is how I would describe the rock in Tafroute in polite terms. My mum told me saying bad words makes baby Jesus cry so I wont stoop to those despicable levels, instead I will use SCIENCE to demonstrate my point.

Surveying...

Utilising some of the most modern and accurate methods of visual guestimation, I was able to conclude that 89.74% of the rock is bad, and of the 10.26% that is good, 2.37% is inaccessible due to its location, and 6.44% is just featureless. This leaves a disappointing 1.19% of good quality climbing which may not sound much, but thankfully Tafraoute is all rock; as far as you can see in every direction, mountains covered in giant orange eggs entice you to explore.

Cleaning the holds on one of many new trad routes...

I know that the perfect line is out there, hiding somewhere in the shade is a line of perfect edges and huecos through a big roof, but this on this trip I didn’t find it. However... we did manage to climb every day, for 8 days straight on good quality problems. Sport, bouldering, and trad – we even found time for a mini desert rave. That’s not too bad going when you think about it.

Caroline chilling before the onslaught...

I'm planning on writing something a little more in depth about our adventure in Tafraoute, to be published in one of the climbing rags at some point down the line along with a host of pretty pictures. There is also 60gb of raw HD footage sat on my hard disk waiting for someone with the time and skill to turn it into something cool – if any of you budding film makers fancy taking a look, drop me a message and we can talk some more.

Just another beautiful sunset, just another beautiful day...

For now, I want to say a quick thank you to Ivan and the rest of the smiley Spanish for the helpful information they gave us – without it we would certainly have climbed a lot less. You can find Ivan’s website here. There is also a lot of useful information about climbing in Tafraoute here.

I just wanted to add, as somepeople seemed to have taken my post the wrong way (probably my fault in the way I write) - I liked Tafraoute a lot, in fact it was one of my best recent adventures and would certainly go back without too much persuasion.

The Expedition Reports - 5 - The Arch of Ba-Chikele

2011-02-14T17:51:00.003Z

Here it is folks, the final instalment of our Chad Expedition Reports. This time Renan Ozturk takes us on a journey up the Arch of Ba-Chikele - the most impressive and delicate rock formation any of us had ever seen!

I'm a little sad the reports have come to an end; it has been fun to share it with you all, and in a small way it was like being back there again, staring out into the unknown, wondering what magnificent route lay just around the corner. But fear not, as the Camp4 team are working day and night on the video edits so you should get to see something shortly. As for the pictures, I have seen the final edit and they are something special. Check out the April edition of Outside magazine if you are State-side, or the August issue of Climber Magazine for those in the UK.

“Expedition Time Distortion”: I think this could describe what the whole crew is experiencing at this point out here in the remote Chadian desert. Although we have only been gone for a matter of weeks, and it probably seems like a blink of an eye to all those back home, to us it truly feels an eternity lost in the endless sea of unclimbed sandstone, micro barbed picker grass and roaming camels.

Despite the looming homesickness, today the moral is high. We convinced Piero, our tireless guide, to go for a final hail mary quest to the most remote part of the region to check out what seems like the most inspiring formation from our research: a tower/arch that we have deemed “the delicate arch” of the Ennedi. Piero is skeptical of the whole journey after the incident with the knife bandits (see dispatch 4) and tried to ward us off from the idea: “You know there are vipers and cobras in camp-- definitely maybe!!” Even though we will only have an afternoon and morning worth of water to explore the location before have to turn back we all agree it’s worth it.

More 4x4ing through the heat and we arrive at the objective. It is even more inspiring than we could have possibly imagined: a helix of two spindly towers ~160 ft tall connected by a tiny arch that truly resembles Canyonland’s famous Delicate Arch!

With our limited time the team quickly sprung into action and headed up the talus cone in the brutal midday heat to scope the line. Each side had distinct cruxes of chossy unprotected slabs or decomposing cracks. Eventually Mark and James decided on the slab. The rest of the day was spent battling for protection in the decomposing sandstone. At one point Mark tried to place a bolt and it was so loose in the hole he had a double stack pitons around to make it even remotely passable as protection. Jimmy, Kempy and I scrambled around trying to document the madness we could here James cursing after Mark relinquished the lead: “Its like bloody Caster sugar up here, after you break the outer surface the rest just explodes, #(*)&#@#&!!!”.

Feeling a bit antsy at the base Alex took matters into his own hands and went for the kamikaze onsight free-solo first ascent of the crack up the other side. At this point it was a free for all with time running out to find a way to the summit. “Here you go dude, take this wireless mic,” I suggested and he clipped it on. After sending half the formation I could hear his breathing elevate with is knee stuck in a wide crack unable to commit to a loose flake transfer. Displaying good judgment and some extreme skill he carefully retreated down the lower tech face as we all watched clenching our teeth. Darkness set in James and Mark also decided to play it safe and descend, hoping to get it done with an alpine start the next morning.

During the night as the climbing teams rested for the morning we stayed up most of the night documenting a moon-rise we will never forgot: The nearly full moon rose directly behind the arch and tracked a perfect path slitting the formation. For the Camp4 Crew this was a mind-blowing coincidence for us to be able to share the beauty of this place. We ran 3 timelapses through the night, one on a motorized Kessler dolly tracks to add another layer of movement to the tracking stars and moon. I have to say it was kinda gripping scrambing around wondering if the aforementioned snakes might be lurking under any rock.

Before sunrise the games began again. James took the final leap of faith. I’m sure the details of his moment with God will come out in his and Mark’s own detailed descriptions but all I have to mention is that Mark could barely force himself to belay the pitch. If he fell he would have ripped the entire pitch including the anchor...

After some victory screams he brought up the rest of the crew for some truly feel good moments. Its so rare that in this day and age that such iconic first ascents are still a possibly. Looking out over the expanse of rocks and village life below it was an unsaid realization how special this experience has been. . (The Arch of Ba-Chikele)

Our time here is coming to a close. By Marks’s vision of putting this adventure together, Piero’s 20 year knowledge of the landscape/people, Alex and James’ bold summit leads and the Camp4 Collective crew photo/video efforts we all hope to bring back a greater understanding of the Ennedi to share with those back home. However haggard, diarrhea ridden, sand caked, starved and exhausted we all may be there is no doubt we are vastly grateful for the experience and the opportunity to be the first to climb in this remote region. Stay tuned for not only a feature in Outside Magazine and Video Dispatches but a more polished film festival piece highlighting the start to finish epic!

Thanks for following and cheers from the whole team out here in middle of nowhere! ~reo

For more inspiring pictures, check out "the Word" at realbigpimp.in

The Expedition Reports - 4 - Shiny Pointy Things

2011-02-10T09:25:00.006Z

Expedition report 4 comes from team photographer and fairly handy climber, Tim Kemple...

There are two types of thugs in this world. Those that will knife you and those that threaten to knife you. Fortunately these were the later.

Its been one of those days for me really. The harshness of the desert has begun to set in --every step calculated, as snakes, spiders, insects, and flesh eating grass seem to be lurking everywhere. Making things more stressful, we’ve broken enough camera gear to keep B&H in business for another year… its almost like our video equipment can feel the stress of the Ennedi as well. Yesterday James and Mark bagged another tower first ascent (The Wine Bottle) so we packed up the 4x4’s and headed deeper into the sand in search of more desert gold.
We have no real system for finding new routes. Just drive for hours across the desert to the next well known landmark and see if the rock is climbable. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen so much stone in my life, so at times it can be overwhelming. Its mostly loose sandstone, but there is enough good rock to be found that every turn finds everyone’s eyeballs glued to the windows wanting to be the first to spy the next gem.
That’s how we were yesterday when we ran underneath Aloba Arch, reportedly the biggest land arch in the world at close to 100m. The solid ‘Red Rock’ black faces to either side of the arch were going to be the perfect passport to the summit. We were stoked! Problem is we were also so busy looking up that we hardly noticed the 4 knife wielding teenagers approach from the bushes. At first we thought they just wanted us off their land, but soon it became clear that they wanted to mug us.
Normally I would have been fine leaving my gear for the bandititos, but I forget North Face athletes don’t like being told what to do; so we picked up sticks and got ready to do battle… Fortunately their knives were just threats and they ran into the dusty desert afternoon.
We took off as well, the Delicate Arch of Chad awaits.
tk

Yes, It was pretty scary!

The Expedition Reports - 3 - The Crack

2011-01-31T17:43:00.003Z

Its time for more Expedition Reports from Chad. This time, Alex takes on one of the most disgusting routes I can imagine...

So this dispatch is about a cool arch I got to climb. I’m typing it from the back of the jeep while we quest around the desert.

We stopped at the Sao Paulo [sp??] Arch a few days ago while we were driving just to see it as tourists. But when we parked underneath we discovered an amazing offwidth crack that split the whole formation from one side to the other. The whole team decided that we should give it a go, but we didn’t have any wide gear and no one else really seemed thrilled to climb a sandy offwidth. Tim was kind enough to go up top and drop a line down through the crack to give me a toprope belay and I set out up one side to check out the rock. My first attempt I chose the side with better rock that looked a little easier. I made it half way across the roof before my legs gave out and I collapsed from fatigue.

We broke for lunch for a while and then I tried it again from the other side, which involved a sandy boulder problem on friable face holds before gaining the crack. This time I gave the whole things the fight of my life, knowing that once I made it to the middle I would be back into familiar terrain. Jimmy was hanging in the middle of the arch shooting pictures, which always makes things a little more fun to have a friend hanging out next to you. And Mark and James were shouting up encouragement from below while I grunted and struggled across. The whole process took an hour and ten minutes of hanging from my legs and thrutching wildly. I broke off tons of holds and a certain points could hear sand pouring into my ears.

In some ways it was the most disgusting route of my life in terms of poor sandy rock and hard climbing. But it was also the most satisfying pitch of the trip for me. It was awesome to try my very hardest for so long and barely be able to squeak it out. I’ve deemed it the hardest offwidth in Chad. I don’t think there’s much competition. Alex Honnold

Morocco

2011-01-28T20:48:00.003Z

Morocco was always going to be a bit of a wild-card, even with the original sugar-coated plans. Yet as the departure date drew nearer and everything fell apart, we began to really doubt if we had made a sound decision – even the thought of remaining in England began to seem interesting.

Eventually, the statement of “even if the climbing sucks, ten days in Morocco cant really be that bad” was made, and on a cold new years eve morning, we boarded a plane bound for Agadir, joined by a load of pasty white fatties in search of some winter sun.

Being met in person by our hire car rep, watching him fill in all the paperwork by hand and pay him there and then in cash, reminded me that, despite the cheap flights to get here, we were not in Kansas anymore.

The car, as to be expected, was a tiny pice of shit, which contrary to popular belief, is actually worse than a big piece of shit, as with a big piece of shit, you can at least fit in your bulky luggage and several bouldering pads. Fortunately, there was just the two of us, so with a bit if rearranging, everything slotted in fairly well and we set off into the unknown.

Unknown may seem a little dramatic, especially when compared to some of my recent expeditions, but actually it described our trip to Tafrauote pretty well. We had no idea of the town, we had no idea of the rock, we had no idea where to sleep, and we had no idea if there would be other climbers. We brought gear for trad, sport and bouldering, because we didn’t know what to expect, and as it turned out, we used everything, every day.

As we moved away from Agadir the landscape quickly became rugged, wild and barren. Cliffs became larger and more regular, eventually turning into jagged brown mountains as we neared our destination. And then, just like snapping your fingers, as we turned the final corner into Tafraoute, huge round boulders appeared! Whole mountains covered in them; giant orange eggs, interspersed with the occasional embedded house, and lush majestic palm trees – the most beautiful place I have ever seen.

Eat Natural

2011-01-21T17:57:00.004Z

Just a quick one to say how happy I am with one of my new partners... Eat Natural.

Tasty treats in my climbing pack from now on! Yum yum :)

2011-01-16T19:29:00.002Z

Christmas comes but once a year - and that’s fine by me!

I’m not the biggest fan of Christmas; in fact, I find it overindulgent, over expensive, and overrated. More than anything though, it’s the sickly pretence of the day that always puzzled me – we shower or families in lavish gifts, hand out a few awkward thankyou’s, smiles and hugs, only to later argue with said family over something completely trivial, because deep down we feel bitter and bored by the whole charade! Even wrapped in tinsel, does our affection on the 25th make up for the other 364 days of neglect...

Having said that, this Christmas I returned home for the first time in 5 years, and I genuinely had a lovely time. My family were angels, I didn’t eat too much of the wonderful food, and was even lucky enough to climb my oldest hard grit project on a crisp, snowy Boxing Day. It was awelcome surprise to feel so solid and in control on something which had once felt so hard. Infact, the last time I tried the route in question, there was on move entirely that i could not do – so big big changes are happening!

5 days at home really did seem like too little time – all thanks to the magic of the man in red (or should that be Jesus, I never really know). Wow, those are unexpected words from a notorious scrooge ;)

I’ll do my best to write a detailed description at somepoint soon, but as you might have realised from reading past blogs, I am a little bit behind the times, so will first try to catch up with tales of an unexpected Moroccan adventure...

Stay Tuned...

Photo Shot...

2011-01-06T19:15:00.004Z

The road back to Margalef seemed long and slow, but eventually we found the Refugi, and soon after sleep found us. With the last day dawning clear and blue, we had many options for places to climb, but settled on the easy choice of Laboratory as unfinished business is a strong lure. For those that don’t know the Laboratory I will give you a quick run down...

Its very short, less than 20m, and steep, very steep, except at either end where it becomes very very steep. It is predominantly climbing on pockets, which are usually fairly good, except from the ones that are not, and are always covered in chalk. This means that it is usually possible to get a good idea of the route before even leaving the floor, and so a pretty good place for onsighting.

The left hand end of the cliff is home to the famous roof routes of Darwin Dixit and Demencia Senil, but nestled in amongst its more well known brothers is a route called Photo Shot. At 8b, Photo Shot is the cheapest of the routes in this sector, but since I have been called a scrooge on more than one occasion; it seemed like a good place to start my onsight bidding.

There isn’t really much to say about the actual ascent... apart from it went pretty well. I luckily chose the right holds at the right time, and after a short time found myself at the top. Something that is worth mentioning however is the holds on the route! Unlike a lot of the other routes in Margalef, and this sector particularly, they are not too painful. A welcome surprise, and one to seek out...

Onsighting Photo Shot, 8b in the Margalef Laboratory

After lowering off Photo Shot, I felt pretty energized and half decided to jump on an amazing 8b+ (sorry, I forget the name) a little to the left. Eventually, I decided to leave it for another visit as you only ever get the chance once, and to spend my last remaining energy on Ley Innata. It was a very good call not to try the 8b+ because I turned out to be pretty tired, and after one of the biggest fights of the trip just to claim my quickdraws back, the only thing left was the drive back home.

Next time I will be back on the Grit!

2011-01-03T19:24:00.002Z

The next day was much brighter. The clouds had gone, the sky was blue, everything was set for a great day. Driving baby car up the windy valley to El Balco de l'ermita, we were reminded at every turn at how much potential still remains in this incredible place. The day was spent onsighting and flashing some of the areas classic routes, including Laura (the best route I have climbed in Margalef) and El Vuite Art. As the sun set we joined friends in the bar for a birthday drink – a fine end to the day...

Good Morning Margalef...

Iker's Van

Caroline By The Reservoir

But this wasn’t really the end! It was my birthday, and on ones birthday, one must party... thats just the rule!

Barcelona, like a jewel in the sun...

After a good old “knees up” in MOOG, Thursday was spent relaxing in the city before joining Jaume to a video presentation in the nearby city of Vic. Fixe had kindly allowed Caro and I to gate-crash their party, and after a quick tour of the factory (which was uncannily similar to Wild Country’s back home) we sat down to watch David Palmada high step his way up some muddy desert choss. I dont have so much “aid” experience, but the impressions I get are as follows:

1. It is very very slow

2. It can be very very scary

3. It is super geeky – lots of fiddling in small, weird gear, equalising knobs etc etc

So basically, its like trad climbing... sort of... ;p

We were all tired from the night before and a long day, but just before leaving, someone uttered the famous last words “do you guys fancy a quick beer” – which for some reason was soon followed by a “yes” from my mouth. I should have known better...

We stayed in one of the most beautiful apartments I have ever seen, full of class, beauty, modern gadgets and ancient art. The apartment belonged to a friend of Jaume, Xavier, and the following morning we drove the short way to Savassona to meet him for a day of bouldering.

If you can read Spanish, there is more info here, or keep on reading below if you are a language dunce like me!

The Team in Savassona

One Of Many Projects

Savasaona is a beautiful tranquil spot 1 ½ hours north east of Barcelona, where ancient ruins and sandstone boulders sit peacefuly in a small forest. Xavier is Papa Local of the area and he gave me the best tour I could have wished for. I saw all the hard boulders, all the projects, managed to repeat a few of them and even establish my own FA – a lovely highball arete that had unfortunatley seen the destruction of Xaviers knee a short while before.

Finishing Off A Scary 7c+ (second ascent)

There are two problems in particular that really stood out to me and will have to wait for another day. The first, La Madame, is a short bulging boulder, begining with compression pinches and finishing with the most disgusting of mantles – a fine effort from Edu Marin! The second, Maria – Alba, is a 15m slabbly 9a from no other than the Machine himself, Ramon! Yes, you heard that right, 15m, slabby, 9a!!!

La Madame

I will be back...

2010-12-25T22:17:00.002Z

Hola mi Amigos,

My god it feels good to lie down. After 6 hours on the road, preceded by many days of cold, hard climbing and too little sleep, I am pooped (to put it politely). We left Francia on Monday for the (slightly) warmer climate of Spain and the plentiful, painful pockets of Margalef.

The first day was dank and cold, but first day psyche dragged Caro and I out of the refugi at around 11am to a deserted Laboratory , where we began the ongoing battle against numb fingers. Warming up was a relative term; 6b, 7b, 8b – numb, numb, numb. The clouds were persistent all day long, not once allowing the sun to shine on the cliff, but slowly (very slowly) feelings began to return and as a few other brave souls appeared at the crag, I felt ready to move on to the business of the day.

“Il Ley Innata”, product of an Animal and repeated only by a machine, was recommended to me by Iker Pou as a nice route to try that would suit a boulderer. It is worth mentioning at this point that Iker is a complete monster – arguably the best all-rounder in the world and no stranger to hard moves on small holds. This year he repeated Demencia Senil, returning to make this pretty special video, climbing the route 12 times in the process!!!

A few weeks previously I had watched a video of Ramon climbing “Ley”, happily chilling on holds, feet cutting left right and centre, and generally making it look like 7b. After this visual stimulation and the tip-off from Iker, I wandered over to the base of the route expecting... well... I don’t really know what I was expecting... but I do know I got a shock!

La ley innata Ramon Julian from Ramon Julian on Vimeo.

“My God, this is steep” was the first thing that came to mind, closely followed by “hmmmmm, those don’t quite look like the jugs from the video...” The first few moves were hard, but I optimistically told myself I was still warming up, gurning, gritting my teeth and slowly moving upwards the inviting 1/3^rd height jug.

Well, the jug turns out not to be so juggy, more a “mono stack” and a painful one at that! This was pretty much the theme for the whole route – its hard, fu%@ing hard, fu%@ing hard and fu%@ing painful, and that is exactly what one should expect from an 8c+/9a in the Laboratory.

Once I got my head around that things started to go smoother. I began to work out a sequence for me (surprise surprise, Ramons 1.59m method doesn’t quite fit) and by the end of the day I had made a few nice (small) links. I felt physically weak on the route, testament to a lack of bouldering for far too long. The positive side of this is progress should come quickly with a little directed effort. I’ll train power a little over the winter and play again in the spring.

More to come soon...

The Expedition Reports - 3 - The Wine Bottle

2010-12-19T19:30:00.007Z

Many moons ago I tried to climb a sandstone sea stack off the South Devon Coast. The rock was terrible, the protection was hammered in 6" nails, and I got shut down hard. The route was graded E1, but for anyone who has climbed on any of our fair Isle's more adventurous cliffs, grades don't really mean so much when the rock is disappearing under your hands and feet.

I have climbed a bit of choss since that day, and become more acquainted with its peculiarities. I like the creative process of trying to protect a pitch where the rock is barely solid enough to allow upward movement - it brings together all the things I have learnt about trad and wraps them in up in one complex, ugly, but undeniably alluring bow.

The second route we climbed in the Ennedi was like the sea stack on steroids!

Here is my partner in crimes eye witness account of the adventure. Take it away Mark!

Enjoy...

Today was a day that I will never forget. A few hours ago James and I stood on the summit of the Wine Bottle, one of the coolest towers I’ve ever climbed. The summit was tiny, about the size of two dinner tables, but what made it especially sweet was how deep we had to dig to get up there.

Two days ago we were randomly questing across the desert, trying to find our next objective. It was actually kind of hard, not because we couldn’t find anything, but rather because there was so much to choose from. We came around a corner and there was the Wine Bottle. Just as the name implies, it’s shaped like a bottle: fat down low, then it abruptly narrows down into a slender 100 foot “neck,” topped with a bulging spout.

There was pretty much no discussion – it was such a stunning objective that everyone took it for granted that we had to climb it. There was one little problem, namely that the neck looked super sketchy: steep, loose, chossy and distinctly lacking in cracks or any obvious lines. I circumnavigated the tower, studying it from every angle, and finally decided on what I thought would be a good line.

Honnold was not inspired by the choss factor, so James and I geared up. James took the first pitch up to the base of the stalk. It looked short and easy but ended up being a 60m rope stretcher on bad rock with very little in the way of good gear. When I joined James on the ledge, we shared a look, and it went without saying that I was fully in for it.

There was a line of holds, but as I soon found out, the rock was dangerously loose and virtually every hand and foothold was removable. After ten feet of free climbing I resorted to aid. Thirty feet above the ledge I slung a “chicken head” and gently eased my weight onto it. As I was placing my next piece, the chicken head blew, but miraculously the sling still hung onto some barely adhered left over chunk of sandstone. Scared silly, I drilled a bolt, only to discover that the rock was so loose I couldn’t get it to tighten down. After it fell out, I pounded a piton into the hole, then decided I’d had enough.

Now it was James’ turn and I was interested to see what this master trad climber could make of the pitch. He free climbed to my highpoint and made a few tentative moves above, then decided to take a hang on the manky pin and think things over. For a brief moment it looked like he would bail too, but then James dug deep and set off again. He pulled some hard moves above the bad bolt and I knew that he was committed – it was too hard to downclimb.

Ten feet higher he set a couple shaky pieces, hung off them, and placed another sketchy drilled piton. After equalizing the pin with the bad gear, James free climbed out around a corner into a shallow groove. As he worked his way upwards, a steady stream of loose rocks rined down onto the ledge. More bad gear and hard climbing followed, but James somehow kept his cool and eventually reached a solid crack, which he jammed to the summit. When he topped out, his yell of triumph reverberated across the desert.

I managed to follow James lead, barely, and soon we were sharing a high five and gawking at our surreal surroundings. The Ennedi Desert stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction, and it really sunk in just how far in the middle of nowhere we were. Unclimbed spires stretched to the distant horizon, and we could only marvel at how many other classic first ascents like this one still lay out there waiting… (The Wine Bottle 5.11+, A0 R/X 90m)

Mark Synnott

Caroline Climbs Guerre D'usure - 8C

2010-12-14T19:04:00.003Z

There are more Expedition reports on the way soon, but first I wanted to share the news of Caroline’s ascent of Guerre D’usure. Guerre is a very technical, resistance 8c at Claret in the South of France and is her 6th route of the grade.

An initial “easy” wall leads to a boulder problem through the mid-height roof. After a small shake and chalk on a positive finger edge, roughly 20 intense moves find you again at good holds and the belay. Caro made the route look deceptively easy on her 4^th try. Hopefully we should have some nice pictures soon...

To see the line, here is a picture of Luis Vera I shamelessly stole from 8a.nu

The Expedition Reports - 2

2010-12-09T10:02:00.004Z

The Second of our Expedition reports came direct from my pen. The drive was long, so very very long, and after 4 days we were all eager to know what we had come so far for... our first taste

After finishing our rather long drive, and getting our first glimpse of rock, we pulled into an amazingly shady spot on the back side of a giant brown rocky castle. Piero obviously knew of this spot from previous journeys as he came directly here, no detours or backtracks, simply straight to the point.

Having a guide in this place is essential and Piero’s endless knowledge is worth its weight in gold. This place is like a maze- a giant, spread out, incredibly open maze, that looks the same in every location, has perilous traps waiting to catch the unweary, and is hotter than hell for all hours of daylight. After eating a feast of tomato plus tuna our eagerness got the better and we ran from camp like giggling school kids to make a group free solo of our new local cliff.

The next few events past something like this: Shoes on, chalk up, break a hold, crumble a foot, look scary, climb down, begin to cry! OK, so the crying part may be an exaggeration, but the rock was really shitty, genuine choss. We salvaged the day by scrambling up loose gullies to bag the summit which was a f***** stunning place. By the looks the the cairn on top had been enjoyed by brave people unknown, at some point in the past.

This place is stunning, perfect vistas for 360 degrees and the most beautiful sunsets/rises one could ever with to see. At the end of the day Piero drove us to the first area he thought had potential which did not disappoint. After walking for less than 5 minutes I saw the best line of the trip so far: A line that was instantly obvious was become my focus for the near future. The rock on the upper half looked like it could be fairly solid, but to get here requires climbing over two steep roofs made from rock resembling wheat-a-bix!

With 3.5 days drive to the nearest city the consequence of any injury out here doesn’t seem to fun, and so before Europe, I told myself that self preservation would be the order of the game. Unfortunately, part of being a trad climber is convincing yourself that the rewards justify the risks, and by the time we return to camp the wheels had already been set in motion,

Some days things just work, and sometimes they don’t, but fortunately today was one of the former. Written beta about the route is neither necessary or needed as the video and stills will speak thousand of words. What I will say is that the quality fo the climbing was wholly unexpected, and combined with the location and the formation, made for a phenomenal first taste. First route of the trip. First ascent of the tower. First rock climb in the ennedi!

So, so, psyched :)

James Pearson

Check out RealBigPimp.in for more shots...

All Pictures copyright Jimmy Chin, Tim Kemple, Renan Ozturk (Camp 4 Collective)

Chad - The Expedition Reports...

2010-12-04T09:19:00.005Z

Hello to you all,

I've been a little quiet recently, and for once I have a very good reason... For the last 3 weeks I have been in the middle of the Ennedi desert, amidst a sea of sand and sandstone towers, in north eastern Chad! The expedition was part of The North Face's annual expedition program, which every year sends teams of its athletes to some of the most random and remote places in he world, in search of something magic.

This adventure in particular was the brainchild of Mark Synnott and had been lurking in the dark depths of his mind for the last 10 or so years. Based on some stunning pictures from a photostream on flickr and some information from local hero Piero, who has been guiding out of the Sahara for almost 40 years, Mark decided now was the time to drop the clutch and head off on an adventure.

The team consisted of Mark and myself, Alex Honnold, Tim Kemple, Renan Ozturk and Jimmy Chin. The information available online regarding travelling in Chad is varied to say the least and not one of the team knew what to expect. Ideas ranged from kidnap and torture, to a beach holiday without the ocean - and so it was with a large amount of uncertainty that we boarded the plane from Paris to N'djamena...

The result was an expedition to never forget! Lost among an endless expanse of desert towers, in what felt like the most remote place on earth, yet almost always in view of other humans, we battled through the sand climbing some of the most memorable and iconic routes of our lives. The scenery and sunsets were enough to make believe you were on another planet.

The guys from Camp 4 worked their magic, and by their own admission captured some of the best stills and video they have ever shot. In a place where dropping a camera would likely capture a cover-shot this may not come as so much of a shock, but some of the crane shots and time-lapses are more than just eye-candy - they are works of art.

All will be released in good time, after each of the guys takes a well earned rest with their families for Christmas. The 4 day jeep ride home was the straw that broke the camels back and we all boarded or planes home feeling completely worked, half dead, but ultimately content. Although I am desperate to see the finished piece, I can forgive the guys a little time to wind down and relax before the madness resumes in 2011. In the meantime I am going to release a selection of the expedition blog you might not have seen from NeverStopExploring.com along with some simply beautiful stills.

Here is dispatch 1, courtesy of Alex, who managed to hold his bowls together long enough to type a few words like only he can...

Coming on this expedition to Chad was kind of unnerving. Nothing was really known and all the information I found on the internet made it clear that Chad was not a good place to visit. The whole team met up in Paris, which is always a good start. The only problem was that I had horrible food poisoning and spent the majority of my travel and flights sitting on the toilet vomiting or curled up in agony. Not such a good start for me. But amazingly we all made it to N'djamena without a hitch. Our outfitter met us inside customs and helped us chaperone all our oversized bags out of the airport. We spent the first night in a hotel in the city, then packed up our jeeps the next morning and set out for the desert. And that pretty much brings us up to present. We've driven for 2 days across Chad. We've seen a lot of camels, a lot of nomads, a TON of sand. Let's just say we're all a bit dusty. Everything has gone perfectly. Good food, good company, everyone is in good spirits. Tomorrow we should make it to the Ennedi, where we will hopefully find some decent climbing. Our outfitter is a climber himself so he has a lot of good ideas for things we should climb. Lines that he's scoped over 15 years of visiting the desert. We're all thinking of folks back home. But psyched that this is going as smoothly as it has, and pretty optimistic about doing some amazing new routes. Alex Honnold

RealBigPimp.in

2010-11-13T23:34:00.002Z

As promised what now seems like a long time ago, my new website is ready!!!

Unfortunately there were unforeseen issues with my original domain name, jamespearsoncliming.com, which postponed the re-launch considerably. I leave for the communication black hole of Chad early tomorrow morning, so rather than make you wait even longer, a good friend of mine has kindly lent me a rather odd domain to use.

Jamespearsonclimbing.com has temporally become realbigpimp.in, so go take a look at all the new content, dressed in shiny new clothes.

I will still be maintaining this blog for the near future until everything on the new channel is up and running smoothly. Let me know your thoughts and feelings, and Ill take a look at them after Chad

Until then...

Climbing Denim

2010-11-12T19:06:00.003Z

Drum-roll please...

Ladies and Gentlemen, after many, many years of waiting, hoping, and praying, they are finally here... well almost.

I am sat typing this message in a pair of TNF climbing jeans that I have been lucky enough to get my grubby little hands on, and I have to say, they are fu@&ing sweet!!! A mix of thin blue denim and 2% elastane, perfectly baggy with seams in all the right places, these are hands down the best climbing pants I have used - no word of a lie.

Now before you all rush out to break down the doors of your local outdoor store, I have to tell you that these fine threads are still only in the prototype phase, and wont be in production until 2012 at the earliest. Now I know that is a long long time to wait, but believe me, it will all be worth it. Especially when we make a few tiny tweaks to the design, like double thickness over the knees for those spikey knee-bars.

Thank you TNF for giving me what I want - wow, doesn't that make me sound like a spoilt brat!

Keep your eyes peeled over the next few weeks for photos of the jeans from my upcoming Chad expedition...

Progression

2010-10-27T18:54:00.004+01:00

For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to excel at whatever sport I happened to be psyched on at the time. Inline Skating, Rugby, Skiing – they were all the same... I was fairly good to begin with, and I improved quickly with practice. I loved each of them, and a big part of what I loved was being good!

This may sound a tiny bit arrogant ;) but it is really not meant to. When I say “good”, I dont mean it in an “im better than you” way, but instead to describe feeling like you have a high level of control over your body and mind, and you can make them do what you want. If I saw someone else doing something, I knew it was possible and figured that I should be able to do it too.

Obviously the real world is not quite as simple as that, and there are many things in life you will only achieve through practice, training or good luck – usual it’s a mix of the three. Take football for example. At one point I decided I wanted to play; I tried out and sucked, practiced and sucked, got frustrated and sucked, and finally gave up, still sucking just as much as I do to this very day. When I play, it feels like I have two left feet in boots several sizes too big for me, I hate feeling so out of control and disconnected and thus, I really don’t like football.

Climbing also came naturally, and for the first few years I progressed fast and continuously, which fed me everything I hungered for and kept me a happy little chappy. As more years passed, things slowed down as one would expect, but improvement was still there, walking hand in hand with my motivation.

Eventually however, the world stopped turning and I found myself walking through a very big plateau. I could see mountains all around and wanted to be up there, but just couldn’t quite find the way. Working my strengths got me nowhere, so logic suggested I move on to my weaknesses. The path now seemed so clear, and I began running towards the Peaks with fresh enthusiasm; what I didn’t realise is that this particular path lead right into a deep deep gorge!

Progress was slow and frustrating, which I guess comes from starting to try something your body has never done before, and to make matters worse, my strengths started to become not so strong! I was actually going downhill, getting worse at climbing simply from trying to get better. This really sucked!

Thankfully, one of my other personal traits is being a stubborn bastard, especially when it comes to punishing myself. I tried my best to fight, got knocked down time and time again but somehow kept getting back on my feet to fight some more, spurred on only by a blurred and bloody vision of paradise. Then one day, not too dissimilar from all the rest, I got a visit from an angel...

Everything changed, things became clear and I began to move in the right way. It took time, effort, and a helping hand, but a few weeks ago I made it out of the gorge and am heading towards the foothills. The journey is far from over, in fact, it’s barely just begun. But now I can see the sun, it’s just started to rise and I know its going to be a beautiful day

El Forrat!

2010-10-26T05:51:00.003+01:00

Today we woke up in Barcelona – thanks to the flights being much cheaper than those to Montpellier, and the hospitality of a good friend, Jaume Oliveras. We were scheduled to take a train at 5pm back to the land of frogs and Foie Gras, leaving us the whole morning for either sightseeing or training...

There are days I like to pretend to be the cultural type, and since this is my third visit to Barcelona without seeing anything arty, today should have been one of those days. But it just wasn’t to be, the second choice won, which should speak highly enough about the quality of the training venue!

I am struggling to find the words to describe both how awesome and unique El Forrat is, you really need to experience it for yourself. Combining simple and effective shapes and structure, with Gaudi-esc sculpted madness; El Forrat is the brain child of an eccentric, obsessive genius - Manolo “El Heavy”, and every square inch has been created with an almost unheard of level of passion and love.

Thanks Manolo for a great session, we’ll visit you again soon J

Mallorca Sport - Another 8b onsight for Caroline

2010-10-20T12:08:00.004+01:00

The psicobloc on the island is good, no scratch that, it is great – in my opinion the best in the world! However, if you feel like a break from the water, then Mallorca has world class bolt clipping that you need to check out.

For the last couple of days we have visited a few of the premiere sport cliffs on the island, including Les Pertxas, Gorg Blau and Fraguels. The limestone is very very good – bright orange walls and caves covered in flowstone and tufa’s, and most of the routes we climbed have been exceptional quality.

As time was short, we have both been onsight/flashing routes rather than working projects, which has allowed us to tick a whole load of super classic routes in all different styles. The highlight ascent of the trip was Caroline’s onsight of Commando Madrid – the most famous 8b on the island. She fought hard, dug deep and stuck it out to the chains, with just a tiny scream or two to help her on her way. Voici quelques photos...

Cave Life!

2010-10-15T11:21:00.003+01:00

Scary...

Every now and again you meet someone special... Someone that makes you take a step back to try to look at things from a new perspective.

Usually, our lives make perfect sense to us, or at least we have an idea about the road we are travelling. We become happy in our routines, and content with our comforts; life ticks on by and we smile. Its easy to think that ours is the only way that makes sense... maybe because thinking the contrary would mean we have to accept that our life is ultimately senseless?

A few days ago I met a man who lives in a cave! He has lived there, mostly alone for the last year and a half; and when I say cave, I’m not talking about a little hollow, but a big deep cave, accessed only by a crawl through a long small tunnel, complete with hypnotic underground lake! He would spend days and weeks alone, accompanied only by his guitar – and so you would be forgiven for thinking that he simply enjoys the solitude, or doesn’t like people.

Home Sweet Home!

The reality is actually quite the contrary, and he was one of the most social, warm, and welcoming people I have met. For him, life is simple - he enjoys each moment, it doesn’t need to make any more sense than that.

The Front Garden - Not Too Bad...

Psicoblog

2010-10-09T11:30:00.002+01:00

My last trip to the island was with a big group of the friends – Climbers, photographers and Cinematographers. We climbed most days spurred on by each others energy, repeated many of the hard routes on the island, filming them all and releasing the footage as regular Psicoblogs for your viewing pleasure.

This time it is a little different... The island is still beautiful, the routes just as incredible and the sea just as warm, but it is only myself and my girlfriend, with a little help from Mr Psicobloc himself, Miquel.

The conditions were mostly very good, we only had to brave the dreaded sea-grease on a couple of occasions and the temperature of both the air and ocean was close to perfect – I really think it pays to come a little later in the year. This was the first (proper) time for Caroline (after a mini excursion to Lake Annecy earlier in the year) and she turned out to be a complete natural. After following me up a few routes to warm into things, she was soon questing off on her own, psyched for this new style and on sighting most of the hard routes the sea cliffs have to offer.

I can’t give you any video masterpieces, or professional, creative photos to drool over... but I can share a few of our holiday snaps, which look pretty pretty, show a little of the magic, and make me smile if all else fails.

Back in the Balearics

2010-10-02T11:52:00.001+01:00

Its THAT time of year again... Mallorca

End of September... the sun is getting lower in the skies... the sea is warm... the air is no longer scorching... time for Psicobloc, Spanish style.

Im back in Mallorca for 10 days, climbing with friends, getting some air time, taking tapas and Cervesa, loving life... Once I get a stable internet connection i will upload some of the lovely piccies from the trip, stay tuned...

James

The best line?

2010-09-22T08:34:00.003+01:00

What makes "the best line"?

This is a question I often ask myself but still don't really know the answer, or perhaps it is just that my answer changes with the seasons. Is it the moves, is it the features, is it the location, the aesthetic beauty, or the fact that it pushes you towards excellence.

Here are a couple of pics of my current contenders. They are wildly different, but impossible to choose between... Let me know what you think.

The Amazing Ichi Ban, Zillertal, Austria

The Totem Pole, Tazmania - Does it get much better?

Moving Forwards

2010-09-13T13:08:00.007+01:00

Some of you may have noticed that jamespearsonclimbing.com recently went on permanent vacation. My website was always held just a little out of my reach by some friends back in the UK, which is part of the reason it had not seen an update for over 2 years! It was looking tired, was well past its best, and finally... well lets just say it died.

Hold back the tears, all is not lost, for out of the ashes a phoenix will rise!

This was just the kick up the arse I needed - my life has changed significantly over the last 6 months, and so what better time to launch a new website. James 2.0; the engine uprated, the bodywork polished, new and improved, I hope you will agree.

Everything should be live in the next few days, but for now here are a few screenshots just to tease...

Big kiss

James x

Australia The Movie - EPIC

2010-08-18T19:06:00.001+01:00

Thanks Cedar...

Australia Climbing Adventure_THE MUSICAL_Total Eclipse from Cedar Wright on Vimeo.

The Little Devil...

2010-07-23T08:56:00.002+01:00

1 hour on the metro and bus / 2 hours in Berlin airport / 1 ½ hours to Frankfurt / 1 ½ hours in the airport / 11 hours to Singapore / 1 hour in the airport / 10 hours to Sydney / 1 ½ hours in the airport / 1 ½ hours to Melbourne / 6 hours in the airport / 1 ½ hours to Hobart.

Aided by my lack of sleep over the last 72 the travelling time itself was not such a big problem and I slept for a lot of hours on the various planes. However the entire journey was probably the worst I have ever had due to my blocked sinuses from my illness the week before. Every time the plane took off and gained altitude it felt like my head was going to explode! Each time this feeling lasted for around 2 hours, and really was agony, so much so that I was almost sick from the pain.

Every flight was the same, but each flight I took was one closer to being there, and finally I arrived in Hobart, met my friends and drove to our accommodation - a small cabin down near a beach on the south of the island.

The next week was to be a non-stop whirlwind of epic proportions involving monstrous hikes, monstrous cliffs and monstrous monsters... but unfortunately I can’t share too much of it with you at this time due to exclusivity commitments with Sender Films – but rest assured, all will be available in glorious Technicolor detail later this year... Check it out

What I can share is as follows...

After escaping from the Jungle, stumbling into a fine dining restaurant stinking to the high heavens and covered in dirt, taking a few rest days, partying to surprisingly good drum and bass and enjoying the company of new friends, everyone felt like the time had come for a little more climbing... and what better way to end our trip than with a quick ascent of the Tote!

Situated at the end of Cape Hauy, the Tote is accessed by a pleasant 2 hour stroll (a walk in the park compared to the last few days) through lush vegetation along an ever thinning peninsular. Towards the end the trail turns rockier and steep cliffs develop on either side leading to the crashing waves hundreds of feet below. Eventually you get to see what you have been waiting so long for... and it does not disappoint – The Totem pole is simply majestic, and if truth be told, a little intimidating!

We had begged, borrowed and stolen all the info we needed to be able to access the route – essentially an awkward scramble down took you to a ledge level with the top of the pole, where 2 shiny bolts made the ab to the base and the following swing across the chasm a very pleasant experience – that is until the first big wave rolls in leaving you soaked to the skin! The last thing to remember is for the second not to detach from the ab-line, for reasons that will soon become clear...

The first pitch in its own right would rank as a 3* route anywhere in the world, even if you do have to climb the first part of it over wet rock with soggy chalk. The rock quality is excellent and strange, often in cut ripples and flakes are a joy to climb. The crux comes at around 2/3 height and is a surprisingly balancey affair that keeps you on your toes. This leads into pleasant jugs to the prominent belay ledge and the first chance you really get to appreciate where you are and what you are doing.

The second pitch is simply superb and in my opinion is possibly the best route I have ever climbed – I can’t remember another pitch that made me smile this much. For almost 40m you climb one of the most striking, perfectly situated arêtes on the planet; the rock quality is amazing, the holds impeccable and the moves fascinating. Protected for most of the way by slightly spaced bolts which can be supplemented by trad gear as you approach the top, the route feels go-ey enough to be really enjoyable, but never dangerous.

On arriving at the ledge just below the summit, you are greeted by a further 2 shiny bolts making belaying a breeze. After bringing up the second and quick cruise up to the summit to pose for the necessary hero shots (well it would be almost rude to come all this way and not stand on top of the damn thing) the final exciting chapter is ready to begin. Fixing the ab-line you have patiently dragged up the whole way, an exciting 20m Tyrolean lands you back on the mainland with huge grins still firmly plastered to your face.

A day later I was stood in Hobart airport waiting for my plane back to the mainland and contemplating the events of the last week. Tasmania had been an incredible experience that had tested me in new ways and taught me many new skills. The main objective of the trip had been a great success, we did what we came to do, and got out alive – but the thing that had made the entire trip worth it, was those few hours of bliss climbing the Totem Pole. What a route!!!

2010-06-15T16:22:00.001+01:00

My alarm woke me at 3am, I remembered the decision that needed to be made, and allowed myself to fall back to sleep as it just felt so good :) There will be plenty of other opportunities to party in the future, sometimes you just have to listen to what your body is telling you!

We woke at around 10am the next morning – having slept for almost a whole day :) and felt pretty good for it. Lana took us to view the “east side gallery” which is the longest remaining intact section of the wall, covered in paintings by national and international artists. The paintings were all recently restored (original artists invited back in 2009) and so the wall is very beautiful to look at

We said our goodbyes and thankyous to Lena and returned to Fabians where we would spend our last night. After packing my bags, I was ready to go and began to make plans for leaving for the airport in the morning. To my surprise, my 9am flight turned out actually to be at 9pm, which opened up a whole lot of new options...

I wanted to be really tired for my big flight so dancing all night and staying awake all day seemed like a perfect idea, the only trouble was it was Sunday, and where in the world has clubs open all night on a Sunday? Berlin of course ;)

Sara had a 7am flight followed by a day of work so made the smart decision to go to sleep. I left the house at around midnight in the pouring rain and headed to the Goldengate which i was very happy to find was still going strong – full of psyched people and good music. I stayed until around 4.45am when I left to meet Sara and walk with her to the metro Station to say goodby, then I went back to the club for round two until about 8.30 when I left to take the keys back to Fabian so he could go to University.

36 hours later I would be sat in Tasmania, about ready to get into a real bed for the first time in way too many days. Adventure and excitement are on their way... the story is just begining

Help Zalia

2010-05-31T10:55:00.003+01:00

Help Zalia!!!

Appeal by Anna Piunova (mountain.ru):

...A dreadful accident happened about a week ago in Turkey with Zalia, a daughter of Salavat Rakhmetov, famous boulderingist, he won World Championship 2005 in Munich at the age of 38.
Sure, you’ve heard about him.
Salavat lead the pitch, his wife belayed, when huge block of rock fell down directly to their 5 y.o. daughter, she’s still unconsciousness, in intensive care in a Turkish hospital, she has pulled through four surgeries (amputation of a hand, sewed big toe on a leg, stuck in the spokes of a broken arm and a leg).
But she needs one more heavy operation - damaged crashed skull fragments fell into the brain.
Doctors are waiting for swelling of the brain reduces to allow the operation for removing these fragments.

The problem is that her medical insurance expires tomorrow, and she’s still not transportable because of the injuries.
Hospitalization can last from two weeks to a month. And the cost (w/o surgeries) will be approximately $74,000.
Rent of a special aircraft for the transportation of Zalia home is about $49,000.
In total she needs $123,000.
If she’s alive.

So let’s try to co-ordinate and to find money for Zalia. It is not so easy.
But all our children grow up near the cliffs.....

Your possibilities to help Zalia (please choose the most economic and most trustful option for you):

1. Possibility:
(we propose this for all internatinal donations, because it’s the best working and by far cheepest option for those)
You can donate, to a PayPal account that was also established to help with foreign donations.
For more information and donation, this way visit the site:
http://sharmenhope.com/zaliya/

2. via WESTERN UNION:
we propose this for all internatinal money transfers, for people who can not donate
The data for Western Union:
RAKHMETOV Salavat (Kipaevich)
63 & 8470; 8399932
28.04.2009 - 28.04.2014
Moscovskaya oblast, g. Odintsovo
ATTENTION: When you have received the Western Union transfer code, send it to the reference person Anna Piunova: info@mountain.ru

3. Possibility:
national and international Banktransfer (SWIFT) to Salavat’s bank account. It seems like this is not possible from all countries.
For Euro Donation
SWIFT-code: SABRRUMM011
SBERBANK (OPERATONS DEPARTAMENT)
MOSCOW, RUSSIA
Acc.& 8470;42307978100020001331
Name RAKHMETOV Salavat (Kipaevich)
-For USD Donation
SWIFT-Code: SABRRUMM011
SBERBANK (OPERATONS DEPARTAMENT)
MOSCOW, RUSSIA
Acc.& 8470;42307840900020002150
Name RAKHMETOV Salavat (Kipaevich)

4. Possibility:
The turkish search and rescue team (AKUT) opened an account for Zalia
this account is useful for money transfers from turkey. At the moment it’s not possible to donate from other countries than turkey to this YTL-account!. A €-account will be opened maybe later. The money will be given here in Antalya directly to Salavat by trustful climbers. A copy of the bankstatement of this bankaccount will be given to Salavat.
NAME: Hakki Gokceoglu
BANK: Garanti Bankasi Konyaalyi Subesi
Sube Kodu: 412
NR.:6666748
IBAN: TR53 0006 2000 4120 0006 66667 48

5. Possibiliy:
(we propose this for all internatinal donations, from tuesday on, because it’s the best working and by far cheepest option for those):
A PAY PAL account directly on Salavat’s name will be opened on tuesday. We will publish the data for this as soon as posible

Thank you for your heart and take care

links:
http://mountain.ru/article/article_display1.php?article_id=4496

http://www.lezec.cz/clanek.php?key=8679&nazev=mountain.ru__shani_pomoc

http://sharmenhope.com/zaliya/

2010-05-17T13:24:00.003+01:00

Friday...

After a lazy day, where all our “sight-seeing” plans failed to materialise, Sara and I took the metro to meet our friends for a BBQ on a rooftop. This was all the information they gave us, and so I innocently imagined it would be on the roof terrace of someone’s apartment or something similar. Not in Berlin!

Fabian met us on the street and led us down a small alley towards what looked like some sort of old abandoned factory. We climbed over a tall fence, and followed him towards the building where he led us through a window into the damp dark building. He had conveniently brought a torch to lead the way, which we were very grateful for as it was pitch black inside, and we followed him through twists and turns, up many flights of stairs until suddenly we were climbing out onto the roof to be greeted by around 15 or 20 other people.

The view from the roof was amazing, especially once the sun went down and the lights of Berlin were switched on. Unfortunately we had arrived a little later than originally planned and the grill was rapidly getting cold. We tried our best to cook some sausages, and got surprisingly close to succeeding before hunger got the better of us and we ate them regardless with fingers crossed for no ill effects!

Our base for the next few days was going to be with a very friendly girl called Lena that had kindly offered us a place to stay via Couchsurfing.org. We met up with Lena a little later on, dropped our bags off at her place and accompanied her to a friend’s place for some pre-party drinks. Things in Berlin don’t get started until around 3am so my pre party drinks involved a few cups of strong coffee as well as the usual bottles of cheap sparkling wine – classy ;)

Lena had told us she would take us to some of the more “ugly” clubs for the real Berlin experience and so the venue for tonight was to be a little different to Watergate. Situated in an old railway repair station, M.I.K.Z wasted no money on fancy furnishings, but was full of friendly people, psyched for the music, to dance, and make new friends.

The music was pretty good, but the DJing left a little to be desired and sketchy mix’s between records were not uncommon. I had fun, and it was nice to experience it, but in the future I would be more inclined to stick to seeing the “bigger” DJ’s in the better known clubs as I can get the M.I.K.S experience most nights in Innsbruck. Later that morning we went back to Watergate for an after party. It was in the downstairs section of the club, where all the windows are clear so daylight was allowed to light up the whole place. This really seemed to change the atmosphere and I had a lot of fun dancing in the sun.

Eventually our tired muscles got the better of us and we went back to Lena’s place at around 11.30am to grab some sleep. Sleep came quickly and we woke only at around 6pm when our bellies began to cry out for food. A very brief and sleepy trip out of the house found us eating in a very authentic Indian restaurant in on Kreuziger Strasse, which is famous for its many elaboratley decorated squats, and discussing plans for later that night.

There would be a great night at Arenaclub that I was quite motivated to go to, but on the other hand, the thought of a good night’s sleep, getting to see some of the sights of Berlin and also being fully recovered for my upcoming trip was also quite tempting. One choice was definitely more fun than the other, but one choice was also more responsible. I really didn’t know what to do, so figured I would sleep a little more before making my decision...

2010-05-16T09:35:00.002+01:00

FREE RANGE TURKEY #8 - All Good Things...

FREE RANGE TURKEY_dispatch #8 from camp4 collective on Vimeo.

Another amazing dispatch - Renan, you killed it again! Dont suffer too much in Alaska ;)

Cheers guys for an amazing time out there, it certainly brought a lot to my life...

A privilege and a pleasure ;)

2010-05-13T18:20:00.007+01:00

I left my last post promising you to upload parts of my expedition diary soon, so here it is...

But before you read on, know that this won’t be one of my typical climbing blogs, and may include thoughts of a random, seemingly unrelated personal nature.

Climbing is great, it’s my favourite thing in the world but it is not my whole world! There are many other things I enjoy, and many other things that I feel make my life more complete. Hopefully the following posts might give you a little look at the life of James – just another random person on this planet, rather than James – the climber...

One of my other main loves in life is music and dancing – there is something I find very special about a room full of strangers instantly being transformed into friends when the lights go down and the bass goes up. Dancing is also one of the more efficient ways to burn calories, and in my opinion is certainly a lot more fun than running 10k every day. Before my expedition, I had no idea what musical opportunities would emerge whilst I was away, and so assuming the worst, I decided the “sensible” choice would be a weekend of decadence and debauchery in the party capital of Europe! My music tanks would be well topped up, i’d be at fighting weight for the fun to come and also ready to sleep on a rather lengthy flight... Enjoy ;)

Monday 29th March - 2010
Its 9am on Monday morning and I have just come home from a club called Goldengate. Partying in berlin is crazy, there are so many options, so much good music, so many people, and the partys go on and on and on – and when the normal parties end, people go to the Goldengate! It is basically a very grimy and dirty building under one of the metro lines. Its cheap to enter, cheap to drink, plays good music and is full of people who dont care to much about anything else

So lets start from the beginning, but before I continue I should apologise in advance for any “questionable” writing skill or glaring mistakes in the following lines. Whilst I feel pretty good, how I actually look from an outsider’s viewpoint is still up for debate, and so the same probably applies to my writing and choice of words. Oh well, at least it might be amusing to look back on...

So yes, Thursday...

I arrived in Berlin, with heavy bags and tired legs. Meeting friends old and new at a metro station at around 11.30pm, we all walked together back to their house which was fortunately not too far away. Thursday night had always been marked down in my mind as a night to sleep, but the guys had other ideas and excited talk of partying filled the air. I decided I had to motivate, if for nothing else but the sake of group dynamics. I looked online at the listings for the various clubs, and saw something at first I could not believe – Laurent Garnier, possibly my favourite DJ of the moment, was playing at a club called Watergate, one of the coolest, trendiest clubs I really wanted to visit!

Motivation was no longer a problem, quite the opposite in fact ;) We got ready, went out and found Watergate. On arriving at the club there was a group of very well dressed, trendy looking people talking with the door-men. There were two guys, two girls, all good looking, the kind of people who normally push past into the VIP section but not tonight! They actually got turned away! This made me a little concerned for our chances of getting in and I began to worry that the club might already be at capacity! I need not have worried, as on reaching the door-man, he simply asked us for the name of the DJ, and on replying LG, we were let right in!

This was my first experience of Berlin clubbing, and I liked it! It’s not about what you dress like, or how much money you have - just all about a love of the music :)

As could be expected, Laurent played a great set that was both long and eclectic. Watergate has a very powerful soundsystem, and when when I first entered the club i was blown away by the intensity of the Bass – It really made the whole place vibrate! The music started off as minimal Techno before moving in standard Techno, and then getting really crazy!

First LG dropped some hard drum and bass tracks, which I actually really like in small doses. He played about 4 tracks back to back from this Genre which really energised me and found me bouncing up and down like a mad man ;)

The style then changed to more funky, with lots of trumpets and other Jazz inspired sounds. Latin style followed the funk, which is a sound I like a lot and always gets my hips swinging ;) (if you want to get a better idea about this type of music listen to the track “la Mezcla” or any sets by Luciano

After latin came the style I really like Laurent for at the moment, the smooth vocal inspired remixs. Some of my favourites are Everything in its right place, a Radiohead track and The End, by The Doors

At around 6.15, we started to talk about leaving to save some energy for the rest of the evening. I knew LG had more gems he was just waiting to play, so decided on staying for 4 more tracks, after which I promised the others we could go. My fingers were crossed for something truly special to finish the night on, and Laurent did not let us down as the 4th track he played after deciding to leave was probably his most famous track ever – “the man with the red face”. What a brilliant way to end the night!

But that wasn’t quite the end, one last thing that is worth mentioning is the amazing floating river terrace attached to the club. As we went downstairs to retrieve our coats, we noticed it was light outside and decided to spend just a few minutes sat on the terrace, enjoying the early morning sun. This has to be one of the best views of any club in the world, and with a slightly fuzzy head it seems even more perfect...

2010-05-04T16:20:00.002+01:00

Free Range Turkey 7 - The Stone Rider

FREE RANGE TURKEY_dispatch #7 from camp4 collective on Vimeo.

Climbing with Yuji was an inspiration for us all - I think the video says it all...

Thanks for an amazing trip guys, catch you all again soon...

2010-05-03T19:16:00.000+01:00

Greetings :)

For the last month I have been doing a little globe-trotting. Many amazing experiences with countries/places/people have been enjoyed, but one experience that left a little to be desired was the internet access!

First up was Tasmania, which turned out to be one of, if not the actually the very worst country I have ever visited for everything and anything connected with the interweb. It was slow, super expensive and twice as unreliable – the cause of much hair pulling and the occasional swear word.

I hoped that on returning to the mainland, things would improve substantially. One would imagine the surfing situation in Australia to be pretty sweet, but unfortunately, one would be wrong – it sucked almost as much as tassie!

Which brings me on to Turkey – The Tease! Turkey promised so much, and almost delivered, but ultimately the frustration continued. We were staying in a beautiful, luxury, wooden house, in a pristine location in the mountains above Antalya and on top of all that there was fast wireless internet – had I died and gone to heaven!

For the first 3 days of my stay, I enjoyed my connection with the world, but as a storm rolled in, the power went down and the internet failed to return. Coming and going would be too kind a way to describe the signal; for sporadic 30 min periods once or twice a day the wonderful world of wireless would return, restoring hope in humanity, but inevitably leave us crippled and cursing faster than it came.

Then all was well again and we gleefully stumbled around the virtual world, naively thinking the problem had been fixed until a few days later we were left alone again. This pattern continued for the duration of our stay despite the best efforts from numerous geeks and currently lays unresolved! My current favourite theory involves the local homeless hounds and a partly chewed up cable – not because it is any more probable than 10’s of other likely scenarios, but because it makes me smile a little during this lonely and isolated time ;)

My time away has almost come to an end and soon I will get to sleep in my own bed (albeit only for 2 nights before jetting off again). This means fast and stable interweb, and a chance to upload the first part of my expedition diary. I’m sure you can find it in your hearts to forgive me this delayed release, but if not, just blame it on the hounds...

FREE RANGE TURKEY_dispatch #6

2010-04-25T20:30:00.002+01:00

FREE RANGE TURKEY_dispatch #6 from camp4 collective on Vimeo.

Yesterday the crew explored a totally different venue and resource off the coast of Olympus, the deep water soloing! We are continually blown away by the culture & climbing potential here in southern Turkey.

EDIT:
CAMP4 COLLECTIVE

2010-03-15T17:09:00.001Z

Since coming back home from England, I have just been training training training! Good for me because I'm feeling strong and fit, but bad for you because its even more boring for you to read about it, than it is for me to write about it, than it is to actually do it! So today I thought I would write a little about the other little adventurous journey I have been taking - that of becoming a better free-skier :)

I began skiing a few years ago after being what I would call a competent snowboarder (by that i mean I could ride almost anywhere in a resort, onpiste and off, but nothing to gnarly or fancy). After one of the worst mornings of my life, where skiing just felt wrong, something clicked and I have never looked back. To me skiing feels more natural, I can go faster, with more control, and use them to actually get to places. I have been pretty much only skiing since first trying it out and thanks to a lot of help from a lot of good friends (who all happen to be amazing skiers) improved pretty fast to a level that surpassed my snowboarding by quite along way.

This year has been a particularly good one for my skiing (although it would have been a hell of a lot better if we actually had some snow!) mainly from being able to go out any day I choose. I can now enjoy seeing cool looking lines, knowing that I can ride them, which is where I always wanted to be. The only issues with this, is just like in biking, progressing usually involves going bigger, further and faster, which is all good until something goes wrong, and then the consequences can often not bear thinking about. I find myself in almost constant discussions with the two little friends on my shoulder - one saying throw caution to the wind and the other telling me to check myself...

Injuring myself in a non climbing sport would be really irresponsible of me, and I like to think I have a good hold on things, that I know my abilities and don't push myself too hard, but you never really know what life is going to throw at you! Perhaps tomorrow you'll get hit by a bus?

So today I went Skiing to a local mountain called Axamer Lizum, which is where they twice held the winter Olympic games (1964 and 76 I think)! I met up with Keith, Emi and Jack as I was sleeping when they left this morning. The day was perfect! Blue skies and sunshine, and very cold so the snow wouldn’t get slushy (although it also makes my fingers and toes numb!)

It hadn’t snowed for a few days, so most of the powder was already tracked out but if you were prepared to hike a little to the more difficult to reach areas you could still ride fresh snow. We made a few cool runs, and jumped of a few small cliffs which all went well, and then moved our sights onto bigger fish towards the end of the day!

After making the long traverse and short hike to the top, I was pretty nervous and thought briefly about backing out. As always, the cliff looked so much bigger from the top than it had from below, and to make matters worse, you couldn't even see where to land – all you see is the lip, and then sky! I found my moment of confidence, took advantage of it and pointed my skis towards the edge.

I left the earth watching the ground fall away beneath me, shocked at how far away it had suddenly become, but before I knew it I was back in contact with the snow and riding away with a big grin on my face. When I looked back up at the cliff I was happy, but couldn’t help feel like I hadn’t taken the true BIG line, more of a “chicken run” variation ;) so decided that one more run was in order before I could go home truly happy.

The traverse and the hike were repeated and I found myself back at the run in to the cliff, feeling just the same emotions as the first time. I looked at where I knew the correct exit point to be, and also briefly looked at other “lesser” possibilities before scolding myself for looking for an easy way out. If this was really going to be my last line of the day, I wanted it to be the biggest and best it could be, so I could look up in pride from below, for sticking it or at the very least having a go.

The confidence came, I let my skis go, and rode off the lip. As my tips became airborne, I got my first glimpse of the drop and the snow below and without warning a girly scream found its way out of my mouth ;) It was way higher than expected, but I was in for the ride and had no option but to see it through. My skis found the snow, which by this point in the day was quite heavy and wet. I rode away and a smile began across my face, but it was too soon! Leaning too far forward, my tips were pulled under the heavy snow and the dream was dead. A few forward rolls and a brush down later I was back on the piste, finding myself surprisingly happy considering I had ultimately failed.

I guess “failure” ultimately depends on your perspective towards certain things, and just like life, is not normally black or white.

2010-02-09T21:35:00.001Z

It seems somewhat ironic that it was a return trip to England of all places that enabled my first real outdoor climbing experience in over a month. My move to Innsbruck was motivated by the idea of climbing every day on glorious, difficult routes and boulder problems, and up until October that was precisely what I had done. Then however, came something I hadn’t bargained for (don’t ask me how something so obvious could have slipped my mind ;), the snow!

Despite my best efforts to persevere, eventually I accepted defeat and realise it would be a lot more productive to use my time training in the gym as opposed to wandering round freezing wet forests. I was fortunate to have a great training partner in the form of Emanuel Moosburger, who introduced me to the sets of “standard” circuits often used by the Austrian team, and a few other world class wads.

On the first session, I was shut down so hard! After Emi explained to me the three twelve move circuits, of crimps, pinches and slopers, I failed to make even one complete repetition of two of the circuits. With the eventual aim to make six reps of each problem with only two minutes rest in between, I was a long way off the pace, but determined not to let it get me down. The next session was a surprise as I managed four reps of each problem – which was a pleasant surprise and quite an improvement. The following session was five, and the next six, and just like that I was where I wanted to be.

Over the next few weeks, Emi and I continued with the circuits and despite recurring problems with soggy skin (due to what I think must be too much time wearing ski gloves) we were both pleased to find them feeling easier and easier which we both hoped was due to an improvement in strength/stamina rather than simply being more familiar with the problems.

The time had come for me to leave Innsbrucklyn for a little while and return to the UK for some work with TNF in bonnie Scotland. The two day event with Blacks went really well, and as far as work goes it was pretty good fun. The highlight of the few days however was the sunrise on the first morning. I could write for time about the beauty of that moment, but they say a picture is worth a thousand words so I will let you decide for yourself...

Sunrise over Loch Lomond

There has been a lot of snow in the Peak over the last few weeks and resulting in some seriously impressive drifts below a lot of the hard grit routes. These drifts made for wonderful, soft, raised landings turning leg-breakers into boulder problems and a lot of the Peak’s proudest bold routes received more ascents than probably ever before. A few weeks after the last big snow fall, I joined my friend Jim out in the Peak who assured me the drifts were still there and wanted to make the most of them to climb “Three Blind Mice”, a traditionally bold and balancey E7 that in its current state was more like a highball V7.

Walking along the top of Burbage north, the wind was evil, chilling us both to the bone and making my face turn numb. I was actually dreading starting to climb, but on reaching the route and descending to the base of the crag we entered a different world that was practically tropical in comparison. We warmed up, dried a few holds on the route and both made quick ascents – a nice introduction back into the world of proper climbing :)

After walking out of Burbage North in a Blizard, the weather cleared and we trekked into Stanage to have a look at Shine On and Cemetery Waits, two short but gnarly E7 and 8’s. Unfortunately, the snow coverage was now minimal, but still made for a slightly more comfortable landing than usual so we padded up, motivated and got involved. The climbing on Cemetery Waits is very physical and boulder, quite different from the majority of hard grit routes. I fell off the finishing break on my flash attempt after coming up just short on the slap. I was a little nervous about the fall, as it could have been back first and I wasn’t sure where I was in relation to the pads. I need not have worried as it was a perfect feet first wall into the middle of the pad, and after warming up my numb fingers I finished it off next try.

My feet were getting pretty cold, so I decided to leave on a high with skin intact, ready for a training session tomorrow. The only question now is... where to go?