Tierdrop E5 6b

Or it' original title: Climbing with new people, part 2: Ramshaw

Due mainly to life getting in the way of getting out climbing, I ended up driving to the train station on a wednesday morning to pick up someone I'd never climbed with before, and only really spoken to once or twice. We'd both ended up being cancelled on by the people we were supposed to be climbing with and numbers had been passed on. I'm going to be honest and tell you I was worried I was going to hold this guy back. His names Dan, he's built like a tank and climbs with Dave Macloed when he's studying in Scotland. To me thats a pretty big thing.

With a climbing partner like this for the day we headed to Ramshaw to have a go at Tierdrop, sans ropes. Ropes wouldn't have made any difference anyway because there is bugger all gear on Tierdrop. Instead we had one pad that wasn't even supposed to be in the car (I was taking it from one house to another for a friend) and didn't belong to either of us. Little did I know what I was letting myself in for climbing with Dan.

I've had 2 "sessions" (for want of a better word) at Tierdrop with Dan. Neither of us have managed it either. The first session we spent working out all the moves, some of which seemed impossible at first go. Needless to say, we persevered and managed to each link the short but powerful sequence to the chipped rain, and thus 2ft below the final hold. Like I said, on our first trip neither of us got it.


And we didn't get it on the second trip either! This time we went armed with a better pad, and a Bekki for support (which turned out to be quite a good thing in the end). Immediatly Dan jumped on it and made every move to the rail first go! It was nice to see him climbing so well and amazing that the body just remembers all the moves. I think he was pretty suprised to actually reach the rail and he came off from there. Then It was my turn. 


I too was pretty surprised to reach the rail but all the moves had seemed pretty simple. Even the sharp holds weren't too bad on my sore finger tips and I soon found myself hanging on the same rail. Would I try the next move? Would I have to stones. Alas no, I came down also but happy in the knowledge that I'd made it there first move. We both had a few more goes, each getting to the rail but only me trying to make the next move. I missed it by a cm first time! Pretty frustrating so on my next attempt I tried to shuffle my hands up the rail to it's highest point giving me a little more reach. Sadly the rail wasn't that great higher up and I end up pitching off backwards. We figured that I would have hit my neck if Dan hadn't spotted my top half but, and due to nothing but shear dumb luck, I cracked the back of my head off his knee. 


Fuck it hurt. 


I rolled around on the floor for a spell till I tried to stand up. My vision was pretty blurry and I started feeling sick but instead of doing the sensible thing and jetting off to hospital I just went and sat on a rock and drank some water. I perked up after a big and had another 2 attempts on the problem. I made it to the rail (vision bending) but couldn't bring myself to make another attempt first time. Second was easier but I still missed the final hold, and came clattering back to the floor defeated. It's a shame I didn't managed it but at the same time I'm enjoying having a project, something at the back of my mind that I can work on. 


We left after that last attempt as the midges descended and the rain started. My fingers were ragged anyway, bloody ramshaw grit. As we left Dan, who seems to be normally quite quiet just started rocking out to "Rainwizard" by Black Stone Cherry. Now Everytime it rains I just have this image of him rocking out at Ramshaw. It was a good day.

Oh, and I ended up with consussion and Bekki had to drive us home. Good thing she came really!

Climbing with new people, part 3

(The wall with Electric Blue on it)

I know it says part 3 above, but this is actually the first one I'm writing, only because it's the clearest in my memory. I spent the weekend climbing with Becki Hughes on the sea cliffs along the Anglesey coastline. In terms of mileage or quantity we didn't get much done, but that didn't really matter and the routes that were done have been long standing ambitions of mine and the situations were amazing. 

The weekend started with a skin full of beer and good music on the Friday night, which isn't exactly the right way to prepare for an early start. As you can imagine Saturday morning was awash with tea, painkillers, a late start and slow drive. Due to one reason (alcohol) stomachs were not up to much more than dry hurling so we spent the afternoon just sat on the rocks at Porth Da frach, just above muscle beach trying to get some sea air. 


It wasn't until the evening that we really got moving. We some food in our stomach and more tea we decided to take a walk along the cliff top of Rhoscolyn. I wanted to show Bec The line of Electric blue as she has a poster of it on her wall. We took the gear as well, just in case like. Normally I'd have been chomping at the big to get some climbing done as we'd had excellent weather all day long but after spending the week climbing indoors and at Ramshaw the day before my fingers were in a sorry state. The rest was quite welcome.


It was near 2000 by the time we got to the top of Electric Blue, which was bathed in such a beautiful golden glow. I wished so much that I had the stones to lead it as it just looks like such an amazing route. I know people do it as a deep water solo but I know I've not got the head for that and either way I'm not really a fan of getting wet. Knowing me I'd fluff the last move and end up with a 30 metre plus fall into cold water. Not really my idea of fun. Instead, and as it had been pretty dry all day we scrambled in to climb Truant (VS 4b) another route that I've been wanting to do for ages. It's always had some seepage (it always does) but I've used this as an excuse to justify not doing it on so many occasions. Like always it was damp, but this time I didn't really matter.

And then the fun began. Becki climbs well. I've been bouldering indoors and out with her for ages, but I've never shared a rope with her outdoors. She's also not belayed much on double ropes or ever been sea cliff climbing. Adding all this together could have made for a minor epic, but it didn't. What it did do was make me realise how much I've learnt over the years, probably from climbing with Soames and other more experienced people, and how much I do without realising.


We scrambled in and I put Bec on a rope for the final section, not that she needed it but it made sense just to be safe. We both stood on the little ledge while I faffed around building a belay and getting the ropes sorted before I could set off. Before long there wasn't much else to do other than start climbing, so I had to go, leaving Bec stood on the ledge on her own. I know when I stood belaying I spend a lot of time worrying about the climber above me, but when I'm down by the sea get to add worrying about getting wet to that list. I'd explained why you build a belay at the base (rogue waves, large sweeps etc) and I was hopeing none of this would befoul her. Leading I was just engrossed in the climbing. Being as it was slightly damp it became a game to avoid using the wet holds at all cost. This made the climbing much more throught provoking and interesting. The climb itself was awesome. There was some offwidthy chimneying, slab climbing and just some odd moves. Because the corner overhangs slightly, whilst being slabby at the same time it's gives a real feel of the 3D climbing you find on main cliff. 

I topped out to the sun sitting about an inch above the horizon, blasting out an orange glow from beneath the band of cloud that had formed above it. It was pretty amazing and it's been something I've been wanting to do for a while now.  My belay was built quickly and efficiently though I ended up using four anchors just because they where all less than perfect. I yelled "on belay" and Bec could start climbing, and I could start my worrying again. What if she didn't get up the route? What if she freaked out? What if? What if? What if? The the ropes managed to slip into a crack on the face and threatened to get stuck. 


As it turned out she had no problems what so ever, apart from avoiding the damp sections of rock and getting her chalk bag caught. She'd disappeared from view behind a bulge of rock only to reappear, with a broad smile across her face. I told her to hurry up so she could enjoy the sunset.

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Sunday morning had all the makings of an early start, my alarm went off at 0600am or something stupid and we'd drunk nothing but tea the night before. However this didn't stop us taking a lie in and spending most of the morning drinking more tea before we got moving. The plan for today was to try a route on Gogarth's Main Cliff and I already had a route in mind, Scavenger (HVS 5a. Sadly we managed to forget the camera so there is no photos from the climbing.

We geared up where everyone for main cliff gears up. We neglected to take our shoes for the walk out, just because I couldn't be bothered with the extra weight and after taking on more water than I should off we scrambled. Drinking that extra water turned out to be a good decision! Again climbing with someone new had started to pray on my mind a little. The route itself requires you to traverse along the bottom of main cliff, just a few feet above the ocean, something which I'd not done this before and I wasn't too sure where the route actually started. As it happened finding the route wasn't too bad and drinking all that water paid off. 


I basically needed to pee, thus involved taking off my rock boots and down climbing closer to the ocean. No only did I get a lower leg soaking, but when I carried on traversing across I got soaked again, the whole time with my shoes clipped safely to my harness, nice and dry. 

Pitch 1 was pretty simple, only 10 metres of 4b climbing to a good ledge.I led it and then brought Beck up and we arranged the rope so I could lead the next pitch. This was the big one supposedly. The crux was just above the belay but it didn't provide me with and real problems. I think the rope management was more of a issue with me down climbing to put longer runners on. I still ended up with a little drag but it didn't really matter. The next section was great, just nice simple climbing up a shallow corner crack. I filled it with gear arriving at the belay with only a single runner left and set about making myself safe.


After puzzling with gear and pulling off a medium sized rock I finally yelled I was safe. This was one of those climbs that I love me guide plate on. I had no doubt that Bekki would get up the pitch (there wasn't much choice as I wasn't abseiling back down) so I could just chill out with some stress free belaying and enjoy the scenery. I was also gifted 2 wires from this belay which must have been left behind by some poor soul who wasn't as driven as me to rescue stuck gear. Bekki had little problem following that pitch (unsurprisingly) and we took it easy as we swapped the gear. The next couple of pitches were reasonably easy but with a little loose rock on them and we managed to get topped out pretty quickly. 


It was at this point I regretted not bringing my shoes. The barefoot walk out wasn't bad until we both ended up with stabby little pieces of gorse in our feet. In all reality I guess I could have carried them up with me, but you live and learn... I'll probably neglect to carry them next time anyway.

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Well as weekends go I had a pretty awesome time. I've been wanting to get down to the base of main cliff for a long time, just haven't had someone to go with. I've also wanted to so a climb on one of the Welsh sea-cliffs and top out at sunset. It's also been pretty cool to climb with someone new. 

I basically can't wait to get back there. 

(Shadows on the fin in fallen block zawn)

The 4 qualities...

Back from another weekend in wales with Soames and although I feel battered and tired, I'm buzzing. It's been a good weekend. I think there some people who'd be disappointed with the amount of climbing we got done, but I wasn't because sometimes going away climbing, isn't actually about the climb, is it?

Like all trips this started with an early start and a long uneventful drive. We did stop off at V12 for Soames to purchase a rack of DMM Brass offsets. I have a few of these and I love them to bits but I just can't justify purchasing a full set (sadly). Breakfast was had at the Treardur bay Cost Cutter, because it's simply the best £2.50 you'll spend on breakfast. We parked at the same spot and walked in along the same path we always seem up, this time weighed down with a little more extra gear... namely 3 angle iron belay stakes, pegs and a 1kg lump hammer each. 

The weather report for the weekend was pretty good, considering the rest of the UK. We expected some showers in the early afternoon and thus planned to climb, run back to the car to wait out the rain and then climb some more in the evening. This is basically how our day went too. We got to "Black Crag" (still haven't settled on a name for it) and set about protecting the top of the routes with our stakes. These were originally intended to be lightweight stakes that we could remove and replace as we moved along different sections on coastline (and along the Range) but it soon became apparently that they were going no where. It's cool though, just means I'll need to source some more. With the stakes in place I volunteered to test them and rappel in first. 

They held (evident by the fact I'm still here) and Soames said there was virtually no movement in them we I abseiled in. The weather wasn't exactly perfectly sunny to begin with but down in the small zawn the spray was getting whipped around and covered all the walls in a greasy film. Once Soames joined me I had a crack at the most obvious line on the crag, which was super greasy and I backed off, tail firmly between my legs. Instead I tried a line to the right which broke through the overlap and followed a shallow seam before a short traverse left (to avoid large loose blocks) gained access to the top. I named it "the approaching curve" and we gave it E1 5a. 

Back down Soames had been eyeing up a line which took a short corner crack before breaking right onto a rib (and then up and out). Needless to say this was actually damp, rather than just greasy. It had water running down small sections of it! During our gearing up Soames came out with the 4 qualities that a route must possess to be a good route (as far as he's concerned). These 4 "qualities" are:

- Loose
- Greasy
- Damp
- and Unprotected

I think these 4 qualities say a lot more about what Soames likes climbing, rather than what makes a good route. Needless to say "The Rib Tickler" (as it became) was a little loose, unprotected in it upper section, damp in the big groove to begin with and all the rock was greasy... and yes, it was a great route. 

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The weather put play to any climbing in the afternoon but it was predicted and instead of sitting it out in the car we did something productive and went to put the tents up. This turned into an excellent plan as the weather lasted a little longer than we anticipated but it meant an afternoon of sitting under the tarp drinking tea (and scotch) and the eating of various different cheeses. It also gives me an opportunity to introduce the height of climbing-bum civilisation... the camping table! What may look like a piece of wood that we found at the side of the road to the untrained eye is actually the communal focus of our tents and somewhere flat to put things down on. I know it might seem a bit over the top but we spend a lot of time in our tents. We don't wander down the pub in the evening and it just makes life a little easier. 

Which isn't bad for a piece of wood we found at the side of the road really.

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Slightly later, but as predicted the weather did clear up in the evening. Our first port of call turned out to be a wander along the coast line from Porth da Dafrach so Soames could show me "muscle beach" (a 50 degree overhanging climb with some short routes on it). Such a walk didn't just stop there and we continued to wander southwards checking out all the little bays and zawns, most of which contained some seriously overhanging or loose quartzite. 
Carrying no climbing gear we headed back to the car and after much decision ended up at Holyhead Mountain. I don't know why but this just put me in a bad mood.  We'd toyed with the idea of going to Main Cliff and getting a route done, but it was getting late and we'd already watched the coast get hammered by rain and there was more coming in. Holyhead Mountain always just feels like a consolation prize to me. I never aim to go climbing there, but it's always a back-up option when the weather crap out at Gogarth or Rhoscolyn. I guess part of the reason is that I've never really bothered to get myself psyched to actually anything but a load of the trad routes there. 
This time I mumbled and grumbled, somehow allowing myself to sink in a really bad mood. There was people on the route's I want to do or we simply couldn't be arsed to walk up to the base of the crag. Instead we sat and watched a team climbing a classic VS (black and tans, which I've not done) whilst enjoying just being there. When the guy topped out, Soames suggested we go and do one route. This route was "the Elephant's Arse" and it's managed to change my opinion about a whole crag.

The elephants arse only gets severe but having now climbed it I wouldn't be surprised if it causes more than a few problems for some people. The route involves climbing though a crack/hole in the cliff before belaying inside. The there's chimneying and awkward thrutchy goodness to gain the top. I ended up covered in mud all down one arm, dripped on and generally feeling completely battered, all with a huge smile on my face. We even ticked off a 5c crack line to finish and top out. I think the pictures will do it more justice:

I was gutted I didn't have my camera with me when I topped out. The sun was setting over the Irish sea and rays of light were breaking through the an offshore rain storm as it moved northwards. It was a pretty magical moment.

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Because I forgot to set my alarm I woke up at 0545 in the morning on Sunday. As I lay there struggling out of my down jacket that I'd passed out in after a few beers the night before my brain suddenly registered the sound on rain on the fly of my tent. I snuggled back down into my sleeping bag for another hours kip. This pattern continued for a while till I emerged and made some tea. It appeared Soames had had similar ideas to me and we took our time that morning slowly waking up and drinking shed loads of tea. When the rain did stop and we'd had a good look at the weather we made a move.

Breakfast was at the treardur bay Cost Cutter and this beat even yesterdays bap. I ended up with 2 eggs, 3 sausages, hash browns, mushrooms and sauce all for £2.50. This set us up for the day as walked along the coast to climb a route at Llawder, the main climbing area of Rhoscolyn. It was walking along the top of the cliff that I encountered an incredibly obnoxious woman. She actually started talking to me and politely asked whether there was abird ban at the cliff, to which I replied there wasn't. This is where is all started. She went to tell me that there infact was a bird ban (again I explained there wasn't), and that I should have checked the guidebook before I came out. She got a little annoyed when I pointed out that the current guide was about 30 years out of date, but this didn't stop her. She then told me to check the new guidebook (I told her there wasn't one) or the supplement that had been released (again I told her that there wasn't any). After this she left, leaving me thoroughly pissed off. I don't mind people enquiring what I'm up to when I'm out, and I'd have hated to climb on the cliff if there was a bird ban but this woman seemed adamant that she was going to win.

Either way Soames arrived a little behind me, saw I was angry and asked what had happened. He then went off to catch up with her and have a little chat. He came back about 10 minutes later was a broad grin on his face. Apparently she ended up phoning the local estate to check about bird bans only to be told that there wasn't one, and there never has been one. I call that a win.

Climbing wise we had a pretty chilled day. I've been staring at the little slab of rock that had Big Queenie and The Wild Rover on it at Llawder for a years actually, but never got round to climbing on it. Today was different and we descended to the bottom of the cliff (out of the 30mph wind) to bask in the sun trap that was the base of the wall. The route itself (The Wild Rover, E1 5b) was excellent and just how I thought it would be. I didn't have any scary moments but just enjoyed the climbing happily. The rock is excellent and the gear is spaced but bomber. I sat all snug and warm belaying in my new down jacket on the top. It's been a wild since I've pushed myself at a sea cliff (or anywhere for that matter) and it was cool just to climb something that I'd thought about not doing and have enjoyed it so much. 

Unable to decide what to do we headed back to see if the black slab was dry, with a few to put a couple more lines up on it. It wasn't perfect but it was certainly better than the day before and as Soames had put up the last line he gave me the lead. I headed straight for the direct line up the centre that I'd back off doing the day before. It's the clear and obvious line up following a thin crackline up the middle of the slab. After much effort, down climbing, working out moves and placing on gear I finally worked out all the moves I needed to make to get my hands on the good holds and make the final rock over. It was a really hard sequence of moves to make but I got there in the end and found myself standing on the slab.

It's defiantly a route of two halves! The was strenuous and pumpy and the top was delicate and slabby. There was a load of small friable and snappy holds that needed to be pulled on or pushed off to make upward progress and I regretted not following Soames's advice to abseil the line and give it a bit of a clean. It didn't matter though as I soon topped out to give "The good left undone, E2 5c".

It was only after Soames had topped out that we realised that we'd left the camera at the base of the cliff...

Abseiling,. Fun for the masses?

If you've been climbing long enough then that chances that you've had to abseil (or rappel) are quite high. Whether it's to back off a route because of worsening weather, rescue a stuck piece of gear, to gain access to the base of a sea-cliff or just to get back down to the base after finishing a route, like it or not abseiling is a pretty important skill to master. I guess you only get it wrong once, right?

I also love it when you take to any non-climbers who you (god forbid) might end up in a conversation with about climbing. After the initial "what's the highest mountain you've climbed? have you climbed everest? Have you seen that guy in TV that climbs buildings? then there generally an anocdote about climbing somewhere in thier childhood... and more often than not there is another story about how great abseiling is and asking you've done any. I see a lot of climbers faces drop when asked this. I remember abseiling as a kid and I've worked in outdoor ed so I know how safe all the set-ups are. It just annoys me that the masses normally don't get how bad abseiling can be.

Either way I thought I'd write something about it. This is mostly a regurgitation of information already out there, but some people won't know it and I've been using it for the past few years without any problems. I think the original idea was posted up here (on Andy Kirkpatricks site, when it was still psychovertical) but someone has produce this awesome image (originally from here):

I use this method to abseil pretty much all the time. A 120cm sling is larks footed between my belay and leg loops and then knotted with a simple overhand knot about half way along it's lenght. My belay device is clipped into the loop nearest to the harness and a screwgate is clipped into the end of, what is now pretty much, the cows-tail. My prussic is clipped to my belay loop (is use a french) and I'm ready to go. 

This all may seem a bit much for just abseiling back to the floor off a route but I've found thast if you force yourself to set everything up the same way each time you abseil, regardless of the situation (wind, rain, sun, shine, tiredness, stress, lack of time), then when it is really bad your brain is already set up to do it properly. I find it helps me.

Two things that are really useful about this method of abseiling are that you've already got a cowtail to clip into any anchors on the way. When I've had to descent more than one pitch or arriving at a hanging belay when sea cliff climbing having something already attached and ready to clip in make life a load easier. I know popular opinion at the moment is to not use slings to attach yourself to a belay but as long you keep the sling tight and t your weight below the belay (therefore reducing any possibility of shockloading) it should be ok. See the DMM video here for more information. With all this in mind if you find yourself abseiling a lot then maybe purchasing a nice chunky 120 nylon sling would be a good idea (although I don't use one). The other useful thing is that I can see my abseil device and everything is in line. It's simply nice and neat. 

I'll put up something about rigging abseiling and testing them soon.

hacked off at the weather (among other things)

I've basically not been climbing in whats felt like weeks. The most I've managed since I was last out with Soames has been a couple of evenings at the Churnet. One was excellent, one less productive. There is a severe lack of motivation going on as far as climbing is going for me, which is ridiculous! I've the alps to prepare for in the summer (like 2 months away or something stupid) and I break up from work in like 4 weeks, thus I'll need to fill that time climbing (or slack lining, or high lining, or something equally pointless, dangerous and self-fulling). So why do I lack the motivation to do anything?

I have no answers.

Having said that I've got the next weekend away with Soames working on a couple of little cliffs in Wales. It is a little dependant on whether I can acquire/manufacture some kind of belay stake as we've currently go nothing at the top of some of the cliffs. A crowbar will be needed as well, and a peg hammer. It should be a pretty interesting trip by all accounts.

It looks like my week will be spent in the shed or workshop at School or climbing to try and get a little fitter. I felt I should post something anyway.

Going back to the same problem over and over...

and over and over and over and over... (you get the idea).

After spending a weekend grounded by the bad weather (I did realise too late I could have gone to New Mills and hung out under the bridge to boulder) I ended up watching lots of climbing film. This of course wasn't a bad thing but a lot of them seemed to feature some pretty hardcore sport climbing peoples redpointing hard routes. These people would spend days, months and even years going back to the same problem over and over trying to get it completed. What struck me was the level of commitment that they showed in pursuit of thier goal. Now for someone like me who tries to climb everything onsight and if that fails ground up it all seemed a little alien.

I was struck by a something Steve Maclure said (which went along the lines of) "people don't realise how much pressure falls on you when you're redpointing. When you're trying to onsight a route you either get up it first time or fail, and then the pressure is off. You've onlg got the one chance. But if you're redpointing a route and you've worked each section till you know it all and you're still failing on it, that massive pressure is still there and it increases everytime you think that maybe you can't do it".


I never really thought about all the effort that goes into a hard redpoint. We discussed redpointing at lenght and came to the conclusion that neither of us would be caught working routes like that. It wasn't until we ended up at Churnet the next day and went to ousal crag that it hit me. I work boudler problems all the time. Infact a spent about 4 hours working one problem at Wright's, only to head straight back there on my next free day to get it done. 


Climbing is a weird obessive pastime. For some it is simply a sport, and by sport I mean a form of exercise that they are interested in but for others (inlcuding me) it's a more like a life. I tend to spend my time getting up early and going to bed late, doing a lot of driving. At the end of the day when I think about it, it's not actually that odd an activity to go back to the same place over and over to work a route or problem.


Here's some photos from churnet:

(View through the trees)

(The little shelter that was here last time still stands)

(The chalked up holds of the 7a traverse, something

I still can't complete)

Another weekend new routing in wales...

With over 300 miles of driving and 2 days in Wales we came away having climbing only 4 single pitch routes. I bet there’s quite a few people out there who’d be pretty disappointed with something like that, but not me. I had an awesome time. 

If you’d not guess I’ve been to Wales, specifically Rhoscolyn in an attempt to finish off the cliff and get it all done and dusted. Well it didn’t exactly go down like that, the cliff is not finished but that almost doesn’t matter. There was a lot of exploring done, loads of scrambling around the base of little zawn, walking along to top of the cliff trying to make head or tail of what’s actually there (poor guidebook descriptions) and some dangling around on abseil ropes cleaning off loose rock. Considering the rest of North Wales was experiencing flash flooding, I’m pretty happy I came away with a little sunburn. 

Saturday was spent wandering around various bits of the coastline because the weather refused to actually settle. It wasn’t wet enough to bail on the entire trip, neither was it actually dry enough to go climbing. Every brief period of dry weather lulled us into a false hope that maybe it would stay dry this time. With all this interesting weather we actually had a pretty good day out. It all started like it normally does with an early start, picking up Soames and breakfast somewhere along the way. Early was clearly the key word here because we’d made it pass Llangollen before 0800. This “forced” us to stop at Pete’s in Llanberis instead and sat drinking a pint of tea and watching the rain. The rain was supposed to have let up by 9ish that morning thus we arrived to park up for the cliff around that time. It was still raining. 

And that pretty much described the day. Arriving at different places and watching the rain, which was never too bad to justify not being there! Our first walk into the cliff confirmed our suspicions that it was damp and greasy, so with hope of it drying out anytime soon Soames suggested we have a little explore up “The Range”, a section of cliff from Porth Dafrach to Gogarth South. I really should have taken my camera out with me (god only knows why I didn’t) but we went armed with waterproof jackets, print outs of the gogarth wiki and the old gogarth guide. You’d have thought that with all this useful and informative stuff we’d have had an easy time finding the cliffs, but no. The guidebook was clearly written by someone who either had never been here before or someone who was a local user and thus left out all the information that a non-local would need. It was frustrating to say the least but we did get there in the end and what a place to climb. The established lines look pretty wild on some interesting rock. The guidebook kept referring to “mousetrap” like geology, which would have been helpful if it wasn’t everywhere. 

Thus cutting a long story short we spent about 2 hours trying to decipher the old guidebook, making precious little headway in the process. Actually that’s a lie as we managed to identify a load of routes (and by load I mean about 7) and establish where most of the zawns are. Relating all this back to the information I’ve got off the Gogarth Wiki is going to be a pain.

As soon as the weather looked up we high-tailed it back to Crag X, only to arrive to find the air thick with either some air born mist which was greasing up the rock something rotten or just plain rain. We spent a lot of time sitting under a boulder before moving to the top of the crag… where I promptly feel asleep (so did Soames). I woke up about 3 hours later, feeling chilled to the bone and we bailed to the promise of Soames’s cooking, a few beers and a warm sleeping.

What a difference a day makes! We spent most of the evening watching the weather clear up as we ate our curry. The went the most amazing sky-blue-pink (I don’t care what anyone says, it is a colour) as the clouds started to break up overhead. It had all the makings of a cold night but we actually woke up to a warm morning with the sun streaking in and cooking me in my tent. Breakfast was a problem as we’d not actually brought anything but we were saved by the best £2.50 4 item breakfast bap we found in the bakery attached to the shop in Treardur Bay.

We soon found ourselves gearing up and complaining we were too hot at the cliff. Due to its reasonably sheltered location it just became a suntrap and we’d both been expecting another cold day. We jumped straight to it really with Soames leading a fantastic route which he called “the Lineback offensive”, HVS 5a. I hung around belaying and trying to keep the weight off my hip (bruised hip, yet another injury from football) and watch as he climbed up the wall, trying in vain to shoot some decent pictures. The crux of the route required a really high foot jammed in a horizontal crack, heel-toeing like crazy to keep you on the wall. It’s a really wild move and a great addition to this section of cliff. I put a route up called “sunshine and showers” which probably goes at about E1 5b. It’s more of an eliminate line really and took a flat wall with shallow horizontal breaks and cracks in it. I took ages leading it, trying to build up the courage to make these tentative little moves (which formed the crux) off the good ledge, conscious of the poor cams placed above me. It was quite a weird climb for me in some respects as I just felt like I didn’t have the complete control over my body and I couldn’t trust me limbs properly. Still I didn’t fall off. Then we finished off Gambler’s Wall with Soames putting up a lovely HS 4b with hidden pockets and odd gear placements (and a hands off knee bar for those in the know) up the arete at the end of the wall. I lead a direct start to Joker’s. It’s a good route in its own right, but nothing compared to Joker’s (original).
 
And short of me soloing a Diff gully out of the back of coffee pot area that was pretty much it for the climbing. Sure there is some big lines to be done at the cliff, but it was still a little greasy. I opted out of abseiling the line of “elephant graveyard” simply because it overhangs the sea so much that it I’d have had to prussic back up the abseil rope rather than get a soaking. Instead I abseiled the groove line to the left of The Vipper/Hydrophobia again. This time I made a serious effort to work out the moves and find some decent gear, which is something I’ve not done before. I’ve never worked a route on abseil before but because of the nature of the line (overhanging, with big wild moves involving some heel hooking above bad gear) I figure that ethically it’s alright. If and when I do lead it I know it’ll be right at the top end of what I’m capable of, and I don’t want an accident on it. We have to abseil in anyway so getting out would be hard.

I said “if and when I lead it” because well I didn’t lead it this weekend. The rock was pretty greasy in the bottom section, which although doesn’t look that hard it does have pretty poor gear. My head also wasn’t with it. It’s easy to make excuses for yourself but I can just be honest and say I didn’t have the motivation to focus on a single route. There was too much stuff flying around in my brain. I swung round the arete on abseil and soloed a Diff gully next to coffee pot to get out of there.

This left us sitting at the top of the crag wondering what to do and me feeling pretty responsible for our lack of climbing. I’d opted out of leading and there wasn’t anything Soames wanted to do either. I don’t know why I ended up going back through the guidebook again (the gogarth wiki one) and trying to identify different lines and I noticed some of the lines like the Vipper have either descriptions which are wrong or we’ve marked them in the wrong place… like on the wrong crag. We set off back along the coastline looking for new lines instead. I think the original idea was to find the original line of the vipper, but instead we found something more interesting… much more interesting.

(route cleaning...boom)

We found a massive 30 metre high slab, which had some clear lines running up it. We actually ab’d it and cleared about a tonne of loose material off it. We came up with a little ethical rule that if something can withstand 3 strong kicks on abseil then it’s fair game to leave it one route. We might have to rework this rule if it prove unsafe, but for the moment it’ll stand. This slab really looks amazing, but we really need to give it a good clean and bang in some gear, in the form of pegs. Pegging, for me at least, opens up another ethic debate because even though some of the harder routes have been pegged along the Holy Island coast we’ve tried to climb everything with hammering away. Maybe our ethics are slipping in our quest for new routes?

And then even more fun. After leaving the first massive slab and scrambling around every piece of rock and zawn that we could get to, we found another slab of compact hard black rock with a series of about 30 metre high single pitch possible lines on it. Soames started cleaning it on abseil and we found that a lot of the material at the top is pretty loose but it can be cleaned off. 

So I’m pretty excited to get back there. We’ve added brushed to our sacks and I’m trying to find some decent stakes for our next trip. I just simple can’t wait to get back. 

(no one said new routing was a light excerise!)

Just something worth watching

Shattered from Tyler Stableford on Vimeo.

A serious lack of posting

It's now the middle of half term and I've spent most of it sitting indoors watching the weather. I'm been watching it do one thing mainly... and that's rain. I don't dislike the rain, but I'd like to be out climbing, not that I'd been mush use on rock at the moment. Playing football against the year 11 team in the staff vs year 11 match I slipped and fell during a tackle. It was no-ones fault, other than my own inability to stay on my feet but it doesn't take away from the fact my hip is still swollen and bruise 6 days on. Climbing hurts at the moment. 

So in a weird way I'm glad its raining. I need this time to sit around and heal up and there is plenty to do around the house. The majority of this is sorting through all my stuff as me and my partner have broken up. I'm living out of boxes and bags and there's piles of climbing gear everywhere. There is a lot that needs sorting. 

All work on the guidebook has sort of stagnated. I've noticed this with essays and big projects in the past that when I'm nearing the finish line motivation drops. I think it probably has something to do with actually achieving something than then having to find something else to move on with. Either way there isn't that much at actually do on it. There is a lot or flipping through paper work sticking in names and dates mostly.

In reality I've got a lot of posting to do, I've actually purchase some new guidebooks and guides and I've managed to get out on the grit a couple of times, in between the rain of course so watch this space.

New routing in the Peak

(never work with children or animals, huh?)

With a day’s good weather and a host of jobs and commitments that would take up the rest of my weekend (one of which is actually writing this and the guidebook so it’s partly my own fault) I could only manage to get out Saturday. This was spent in the Peak District, with Ronnie, Sheep and Toaf, at Castle Naze. I not entirely sure why we ended up at Castle Naze. Maybe it was the fact I’d spent the night before eyeing up a possible line on a blank bit of rock or maybe it was because Ronnie kept going on about how he’d never trad climbed there.

The first route we actually did was an attempt on the blank section of rock I’d seen. For anyone with a copy of the Roaches guide present it ran between 2 classic VS’s, taking the slab between The Crack (once the hardest route in the Peak) and Nozag. I noticed that nothing took this clear slab line a while back, but I’ve been trying to stay away from Castle Naze as I feel like I’ve climbed everything I’ve wanted to climb there. I guess this day was different.

The line itself Toaf named “Reincarnation” (more on why later) and we graded it HVS 5a. Being perfectly honest the line is an eliminate and is escapable onto one of the VS routes either side. If it wasn’t for these possible escapes then I think it would probably get E1 as the gear is a little fiddly and run-out. The route runs straight up the blank face below the slab. This was pretty hard and I had to use the thin flake that runs along the right hand edge make some upward progress. From here gear can be arranged and then you can pull u and gain the slab, staying close to the left hand edge (as this is where most of the good holds are anyway). A few delicate moves on poor edges and smears will get up you up the face to the big ledge beneath the final short wall. I actually really enjoyed leading it. It is a line I’ve wondered about for a long while and it was nice to add a slabbier climb to the Cracks area of Caslte Naze.

The second of the routes be did was called Belladonna and grade E1 5c. This was again in the cracks area and again something that I’ve been looking at for a while. Belladonna makes follows the easiest line of weakest between a vicious E3 5c and imposing E3 6a. Because of this the line wanders around a little and really tests your gear placement and fore-thought when it comes to placing your runners. I had a great time of the route and didn’t really feel it pushed me that technically. It has an awesome finish, up a slightly overhanging arête which require a lovely rock-over/mantle-shelf move before pulling over the top.

And our third and final route provided us with probably the most excitement and is the reason for the name “Reincarnation” for the FA. The route was named because we put up a possible new route in the same day that I broke an old one, as Toaf so kindly put it. I’ve not done Birthday Climb (HVS 5b) but I’ve always looked up the wall that it takes, with its single pocket in the middle of the face, wondering how it only gets 5b. Well I decided to find out. I was going great until I couldn’t work out how to gain the actual wall. The guidebook was pretty vague and I wasn’t really pushing myself to work out how to get it. In the end I found the hidden flake round the corner that was the key to the route.

So I’m up not high up on the face. I’ve got a piece of gear in between the hidden flake and the wall and I’m grasping the pocket with my right hand. I smear my right foot on the wall beneath the pocket, ready to pop up to the final hold. Everything feels good and the move isn’t even that long. I got for it and it seems the second my right hand leave the pocket, my right foot loses all friction on the face. I fall off the arête and straight down, hearing a horrible grinding noise from the cam above me and as I settle I feel a load of loose rock fall on my head.

My first thought was “phew, that could’ve gone worse!” but then I look up at the cam, which had opened up like an umbrella and I see that I’m hanging from 2 lobes. I look at how far my next piece of gear is beneath me and yell for Toaf to lower me off as quick as he can… and as smoothly. On the deck I breathe a sigh of relief and laugh about it. I think I scared the two guys who were watching from a another route. Without pulling the ropes (very unethical I know) I just back on and climb up. I make the moves across the face again and get my hand in the pocket. I fight my left fist into a jam below where the cam in placed. It all feels wrong and my hand feels loose. I reset the cam with great difficulty and grab the flake. It moves, so being as gentle as I could I make some progress upwards, with the new found knowledge that if I do fall now my cam isn’t going to do squat and I’ll have a flake coming down the face soon after me. I slap the top hold and breathe another, even bigger, sigh of relief.

To cut a long story short the flake was kicked off the route after a lot of discussion between ourselves about the best course of action. As it happened the person gearing up underneath The Crack was Martin Kocsis, a BMC representative and after I realised who he was (something that I got the feeling annoyed him) he suggested that removing the flake was the right thing. The route was simply unsafe with it there.

It would be a great time of open up a discussion on “acceptable levels of risk within rock-climbing” here but I’m not going to, because as the end of the day the decision was simple. Nobody goes out rock climbing for the day with the intention of dying and this flake posed a real risk of that reality. Climbing is dangerous, but a massive part of it is levels of acceptable risk. I’d expect a horrendous large loose flake at Gogarth or even in the mountains, but in the Peak.

And thus Martin himself trundled it off down the face and we watched like happy school kids as it exploded into a multitude of fragments. Looking up that the face and with the flake gone there is another possible line or even a direct start to Birthday Climb now possible. Birthday Climb itself will probably get a higher grade because of the lack of hand jamming options, but I guess that’s up to general consensus to decide. As for me I’m just glad that I got to have a good day out climbing with my friends, and walk away from it uninjured. 

 

[Martin Kocsis is a BMC Officer, who claim to fame (or infamy depending on your stance) was an article in BMC magazine summit. The article (Pragmatism over Idealism) is about our approaches to climbing and attitudes towards fixed gear. It was NOT written from the point of view of a BMC officer, rather a normal climber. If you want to read the article it is here,  and it’s something that I recommend. I for one agree with his views on fixed gear]

Spring is here

I often joke that there are only 2 seasons in my year. Summer for trad-climbing and winter for winter-climbing. These seasons are not fixed and can overlap, especially during what is normally referred to a spring and autumn where I might be climbing on sunkissed rock one weekend and plodding through the snow on another.

Of course there aren’t only 2 seasons in the year and this is a pretty narrow minded point of view. Spring and autumn are awesome and clearly (by me at least) underrated. It’s spring I’ll write about today. First my mushrooms have finally grown. Rachel pointed out that spending £5 on a mushroom growing kit from B&Q makes it a pretty expensive harvest, but I don’t care as it’s finally produced a single mushroom. Mushrooms are not the only thing in our flat. We’ve got our little greenhouse up and running and have little plants sprouting up all over the place. We’ve tried to be a little more greener and installed a new set of storage things for the recycling. This is a great idea and it would be made all the better if the council actually collected the recycling for our flat.

 

Finally what has made this spring really cool has been all the birds I’ve seen when I’ve been out climbing, and at home. Up and down the coast over the past few weekends I’ve seen seabirds flying backwards and forwards. I’ve been screamed at by large blacktip gulls who have been defending their nests at Crag X and we’ve sat on the cliff and watched the oystercatchers defending their island. There is a cormorant at crag x that keeps us company, and carries off massive fish every so often.

On the last visit that was bird I didn’t recognise and I’ve spent the last week trying to work out. It was a Wheatear and it took almost 2 days for me to get a reasonable decent shot of it with my camera. It was nice to see something new.

I did mention at home to. We’ll not quite at home, but at my parents there is blue tit which had taken advantage of an old nest box that my Dad has uprooted and just left lying against the fence. I think there are 7 chicks in total. I’ll be keeping an eye on them over the coming weeks to see how they develop.

 

Quickly a final note, at Castle Naze this weekend I finally found a Dung Beetle! (here) the wiki page isn't very helpful but these guys do turn up all over the place, so keep a look out for them!