The Source 8c+!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.