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?

Yesterday (well a few weeks ago now but it was yesterday when I began to write) I turned 24.

In recent years, birthdays have become less and less important and I have gotten used to letting them slip by without a song or a dance. Up until a few days ago I had assumed this year would be the same, but assumptions have a developed a recent habit of biting me firmly in the ass, and my 24th year would turn out to be anything but mundane!

Im sure most of you already know this, but Fontainebleau is rather conveniently situated not too far from the grand city of gay Pari, providing excellent activities for rest day or restless night alike. My birthday was on a Tuesday, so the sensible thing seemed like a little night out with the boys (Adam and Keith) on the weekend before. After quickly checking the listings of the various clubs, we stumbled upon something we hardly believed – Laurent Garnier was playing an all night set at the Rex Club as a Christmas gift to Paris. Amazing!!!

Acording to the website, tickets were sold out, but Keith assured me that we would still go, as there was not a club on earth he couldn’t get into if he put his mind to it! We hopped on board the train from Font, and were whisked off to Paris in no time at all. Arriving at the club it was bitterly cold. Adam and I stood on the street whilst Keith went inside, prepared to drop his A-Game if the situation called. Fortunately, the website was misleading and there were still a few tickets left, which quickly became the property of 3 very excited Englishmen.

To cut a long and quite blurry story short, this was most probably the best night out of my life (I am struggling to remember any others that surpass it). Laurent played an incredible set - varied to the maximus, and the company inside the club was rather pleasant to say the least. What more could a guy want? We left the club at around 8am, and were in bed back in font for 10. As I fell asleep, a wide smile spread across my face as I remembered little snippets from the last 12 hours.

The first day climbing in the forest on this trip was not quite the Renaissance I hoped it would be. After not climbing here for over 2 years, I felt like I would come back and float. My projects would all feel easy, my hands and feet would stick to the smooth features, movement would feel effortless; basically I would be just like Tyler. The reality however, was quite different. I felt heavy and sluggish, my movement felt uncoordinated, and my skin felt slippery. When I struggled to climb some of the warm ups, I was forced to re-evaluate my aims and settled to just climbing lots of c’s in an attempt to feel the flow.

Day 2 brought a slight improvement but I still felt like my biceps had halved and my weight doubled. I was pleased with my prize of La Chose, a classic tick from “The Real Thing” but compared with my true goal of Karma, it didn’t really cut the mustard.

Day 3, and things started to improve. We went to Rocher de Bouligny to look at Geko and battled to warm up through the freezing temperatures. The holds on the stand start looked simply terrible and I wondered how any human could possibly climb this problem. Keith had a few tries to explain the beta, but unfortunately split his tip along the first joint, unsurprisingly in the same place as old war wounds from last year’s siege.

After a few burns, I was starting to feel the problem, but was repeatedly spat off one of the upper moves – a slap from a small undercut and terrible sloper to a reasonable sloping dimple. I was trying to place my right heel on a tiny but positive sidepull but The position felt awkward and consequently I was falling. Keith assured me that he used a slightly higher heel hook and encouraged me to try it, but after looking at the proposed hold, and finding it looked significantly shittier than my chosen one, I shunned his advice and fell off some more. Eventually I gave in and tried the higher slopey heel and you guessed it, it stuck solid and I topped out. Ladies and gentlemen, if your thinking of a masterclass, look no further than our very own technical genius, Unclesomebody!

The Gek - thanks to Adam Lincoln

Day 4 dawned the coldest and clearest so far, but not before I bagged Amok at the end of the last. This is a truly special problem and one definitely worth seeking out – see BTT for relevant beta! I hardly slept a wink the night before due to lots of confusion running around my head so didn’t expect too much of a performance from my little head. The weather was simply too good to stay indoors, so I packed up my gear and an extra jacket with ideas of just relaxing at the rocks. Once everyone else began to climb, it didnt take long for the psyche to take hold and pull me into the game. I spent the first few hours repeating problems from previous trips (which fortunately felt easier than I had remembered) as well as adding in a few variations/lower starts/ linkups.

Later on in the day, I made the small hike with Adam over to Immoteph, which is a beautiful compression prow, tucked away from the hustle, bustle and polish of Cuisiniere proper. This problem is simply awesome and well worth seeking out. After a few tries working out the beta and falling on the same move, I readjusted my sequence and topped out in gorgeous rosy light, a nice end to the day, all things considered.

Immoteph - thanks to Adam Lincoln

The snow came, making climbing nigh on impossible, so what better way to spend our time than “party in Paris”. The Rex club began to feel like a second home, and I wondered if the bar staff were talking about the strange English guy with nothing better to do than party all night, every night the club was open?

The time eventually came to leave for home (well home for now) and on Saturday afternoon we began the long drive back to Innsbruck. I was sad to leave Font for quite a few reasons, but am sure I will return again in the not so distant future – there is simply too much unfinished business...

The last few weeks have been a bit of a blur, with a lot going on in a relatively short period of time.

I left Innsbruck for a hectic week of sponsor related activities, but not before having one final day trying my project in the Zillertal. Armed with a hand-warmer in my chalkbag, I hoped that I might be able to find just enough to get me through the top crux. Unfortunately the rock was colder than I had ever felt before, and even the comforting heat from my chalk bag failed to hold off the unbeatable numbness. 2 moves from the top, with all feeling lost, I barn-doored off the technical crux and once again found myself dangling in space.

Dundee was the first place on my tour, for the 2nd stop of the North Face Speaker Series in the UK. The talk seemed to go down pretty well, and I got a lot of questions/autograph requests at the end, which tends to be a positive sign.

With spirits high, I headed down to the opposite end of the country for my 2nd North Face event, an open Coaching clinic at The Climbing Academy in Bristol. The climbing academy is a great venue and one I would certainly be more than happy to have as my local venue. Set out in a similar way to the Climbing Works in Sheffield, TCA has various colour coded problems, well set and suitable for all levels of climbers, as well as a dedicated circuit board, campus board, fingerboards, stretching area, cafe, treatment room etc etc! The Open Coaching clinics they hold run from around 2pm until 9pm and are a very informal affair where users of the wall can come and ask the coach of the day for advice on any aspect of their climbing. The atmosphere on the day was great, and I particularly enjoyed helping out with the youth squad who had a couple of very talented young members. Keep up the good work guys.

After a few days hanging out in Bristol, It was time to head off into the sunset again for the annual North Face Athlete Summit in San Francisco. The Athlete Summit is a chance for all of TNF's athletes to get together, talk about the past year and future plans, as well as learning what’s going on behind closed doors. The highlight of the trip for me was the final party, which took place on what looked like an old Mississippi river steamer (just obviously without the steam) which sailed around the San Francisco Bay, pumping out quality dubby-breaky-electropop thanks to Ana Sia.

TNF athlete summit, another snippet from renan ozturk on Vimeo.

The party finished way too early, but for the 4 or so hours it did go on for I had great fun dancing with the usual suspects with one important addition to the team - Yuji Hirayama. Before this trip I had loads of respect for Yuji, based solely on his climbing achievements, but after meeting him that respect has gone through the roof. Not only is he a genuinely lovely guy, he dresses fly and can dance like a daemon. Yuji is my new hero and when I grow up I want to be just like him ;)

The Legend That Is...

Right now I’m in Fontainebleau, France where life is good. When I have a little more time, I’ll let you know what’s been going down...

Route climbing seems to becoming more and more out of focus, which is a shame as it was originally the main reason I came to Austria. The main reason is its getting too cold, and even if you can find people as crazy as you who want to do routes in this weather, when you get on the rock your fingers become almost instantly numb. After warming up, things improve a little but there comes a point in difficulty that just seems impossible to overcome. When the holds become just a little too small, and the moves become just a little to hard, and you step just a little outside your comfort zone then BOOM – suddenly you have frozen candles where fingers once were.

Perhaps I should have considered this time of year a little more carefully when making my original decision about moving. The trouble is, when things are way off in the future, you either don’t think of that time as important, or simply cant accurately imagine what it will be like. Until you are living in that specific moment, how you will feel, and what you will do are relative mysteries; well they are to me anyway. You just have to do the best you can when the time comes.

Whilst racking my brain to think of ways to keep my endurance without climbing routes every day, I remembered reading something a few years ago that some old school hero (possibly Jibe) wad said about pull-ups and their equivalent route grades. Now I don’t remember much, and there is a chance that what little I do remember is wildly incorrect, but I think the statement was “30 pull-ups on a small campus rung is equivalent to F8b+”. The thought process that followed was something like; I have a small campus edge under my fingerboard, and surely climbing an 8b+ whenever the mood takes me will be good endurance training, why not give it a shot?

The man who started it all!

So the first time I tried, it felt like the living end. The first 3 pull-ups felt good, only 10 sets of these and it’s in the bag. At about 10 pullups I hit the wall, and it wasn’t many more before all I could do was hang limply from straight arms. Before pulling on I had thought “it will be ok, whenever i get tired ill just shake out one arm and then continue” and for some bizarre reason it didn’t hit me that dead-hanging one arm is tough at the best of times ( I certainly can’t hang there comfortably) so why on earth would I be able to do it when my arms are too tired to do pull-ups!

It was over, at a number so low no one needs to know what it was. I was genuinely shocked at how hard it was, how such a simple, relatively easy movement, could become so impossibly difficult after doing a few of them back to back. But if there is one good thing about trying something new, and failing hard, its that the only way is (hopefully) up. The next day I tried again, and was marginally better, and a few days later I tried once more. Every time I tried, it felt a little easier, until I was getting close to the magic number. Finally 30 came, and the next time I did one more, then a few more , and before I knew it, I was heading towards the next mile stone.

In probably 6 or 7 sessions, I have seen almost a 200% improvement in my max reps which I find quite shocking, I wonder how long it will be before this progression begins to slow and eventually plateau, and also what the maximum amount will finally be (depending on if I can stay motivated and my elbows don’t explode). Most importantly, I wonder what (if any) impact this will have on my climbing.

Over the last week or so I have got to see a selection of Austria’s hardest and finest boulder problems and been lucky enough to climb a few of them, even getting in a first ascent for an added little bonus.

Sundance Sit is quite simply stunning. By far the best boulder I have seen in Austria and definitely up there with the best I have climbed – anywhere!
I first tried the problem at the end of a busy day in Ginzling. I fell at the crux on my flash go, and after working the moves for a few minutes I still could not get past this point on the link. The problem felt really hard, and I didn’t think I had a chance at doing it, especially since the easier top section felt desperate in its own right.

Sundance Sit - Photo from www.chalkjunki.at

Three days later I returned, ready for a battle. After warming up elsewhere, I sat down and fired off the problem first try, well at least to the no hands knee bar which you can reach the finishing jug from. Then for some reason I tried adjusting my knee, off popped my foot and down went I! What an idiot. Another message sent by climbing to remind me to always focus, respect the rock and don’t think it’s in the bag until you are stood on top. Fortunately my next try found me back in the kneebar, this time with my full attention which happily resulted in topping out for real. Its always nice to come back to a problem that felt desperate, only to find it not too bad; much better that way than the other way round, wouldn’t you agree?

Emi slapping The Faginator

On the same day I tried Ground Zero and Sundance Sit for the first time, I alsp put up a new problem on the Incubator boulder. Starting just to the left of the Incubator, the Faginator starts from undercuts on the back wall and climbs out and left (with a real faggy sequence) to reach the left arête. Its a nice little problem, not much to look at but fun to climb and certainly puts up a bit of a fight. You climb most of the problem from a series of baggy toe locks and requires a good amount of core tension to stay on the rock, and also control your laughter when watching someone fall off and backwards roll down the pads. Being on the Incubator boulder, a lot of the holds were mysteriously soggy so its hard to know how difficult it is to climb the problem, rather than how difficult it is not to slip off the holds (which was quite a high level of difficulty).

Emi on The Faginator

Despite the cold and the damp, Keith, Emi and I made the short treck to the Zillartal in the hope of finding dry rock. The higher we climbed, the whiter the ground became and my hopes started to fade. Emi on the other hand was confident that we would find something climbable, and since he was the only local among us, I gave him all my faith.

The initial choice came down to 2 options, the Sundergrund or the Zillergrund. The former was the safer bet in terms of dry rock as the boulders were more in the open, however the walk in was long and probably very soggy from all the snow. The latter is almost roadside, except the boulders are in the forrest so more likely to be damp. Decisions decisions...

We decided to check out some lines in the Zillergrund first, the idea being that if they are dry, we climb, and if not, we move on, having wasted little time with a long wet hike. The first few blocks we checked out were unfortunately a little moist to the touch, but just as hope had almost gone, Emi remembered a different line he had tried a few years ago.

He described Mother Firestarter as one of the best 8a’s in the Zillertal, which imediatley got me psyched and on first contact with the boulder it didn’t disappoint. Big Boulder, tall steep face, one line of friendly holds, cant really ask for more. Emi talked Keith and I through the sequence which was as I imagined it would be with the exception of the starting few moves. These, it turned out, were best solved via a crazy cross around the arête, then falling into an upside down backhand sloper, before extending out into the face edges. Wild!

Warming up was proving to be tricky. With no other problems around, it took the form of deadhanging and pull-ups on what other individual holds you could find. Keith and Emi moved on to trying the problem and i was just about to join them when Keith said he thought I could flash it. Another 10 minutes dead hanging and watching the show, and I felt ready to give it a burn. The first two holds were fortunately jugs, but led right away into the aforementioned strange sequence. I was pleased to find these few moves ok, but as I continued upwards on reasonable edges and gastons, contact with the rock became ever harder to keep. With two moves to go, I was almost certain I would slip, and as I placed my foot on a terrible smear and looked up at the final hold I did consider stepping off. An interesting character once said “Until you give up, success is always on the cards.”, and it is so true but something I forget too often. But not today. I pushed with my foot, threw out my arm, my fingers found the edge, my foot stayed on, I was at the top. Success!

Its nice to feel like I am getting back in the game. I had begun to worry that my, as yet, unsuccessful attempt to morph into a sport climber had also had major negative impact on the other aspects of my climbing. Whilst I’m definitely not playing my bouldering A game, I can now see a path to follow when before there was none. Incidentally, I am also closer to my sport projects than ever before, so perhaps the year will be a success after all?

The cold weather has arrived making route climbing even more difficult than I was finding it before. Whilst single moves on the harder routes are now feeling a little easier because of the better friction, I have been really struggling with numb fingers when trying to string more than a few of these moves together.

I have been getting out quite a bit with Gerhard and Emi to places like Schwarze Wand and Dolby Surround, and whilst managing to get a lot of individual moves and bolt-to-bolt sections done, I have failed to clip the chains on a single successful redpoint of anything notable.

One man’s fear is another man’s fantasy, and so whilst the cold may not be beneficial for routes, it does mean that the bouldering season is on its way back. Over the last few weeks I have taken a few short trips to Switzerland and Italy in order to dust the cobwebs off and find out just how much of a punt a year of ropes had made me.

Amber - A lovely photo of a lovely little bloc in Ticino - courtesy of Emi Moosburger

The answer was quite surprising. In terms of single move power, I don’t feel much worse than at my past peaks, however, when it comes to power endurance I am way off the pace. With all the stamina work I have been doing over the last year I would have put money on it being the other way around, but once again climbing continues to confuse me.

As soon as the moves drop below about 50% of maximum then I feel ok and can link a good few of them together, yet once I am actually pulling or squeezing my tank feels almost immediately empty. I really noticed this on a problem called Frogger in Ticino which is a steep 10 move problem I had first climbed about 2 years ago. I originally climbed Frogger on my second try (after my foot slipped on the 1st move on my flash go) and at the time felt that it was pretty soft for the grade. This time however, it took many tries and much grunting to get to the top, feeling instead that it was rather stiff – yet another indicator of the subjectivity of grades.

Yesterday I went to try one of my route projects up in the Zillertal. On the drive up the valley, the temperature gage in the car was losing a digit every minute or so, finally settling at a nice round zero as we arrived at the crag. To shorten what could be a lengthy and boring story, I fell a couple of times about 3 moves from the top due to fingers closely resembling icicles. After the main section of hard climbing you arrive at a mediocre rest where it is possible to recover a little before the last technical boulder problem. The problem was as each shake brought new life to my forearms, my fingers died a little – a frustrating little catch 22 that seemed destined to always end in the same way.

Perhaps hand warmers in my chalk bag might help?