Caving in the Peak District (part 1)

I've been wanting to go caving for a long time, years in fact. However there have been several things holding my back. Apart from having no gear and no idea how to go about caving (without hiring a caving instructor for the day, something I didn't want to resort to) I also had no one to go with. Add to that a fear of the dark and small spaces (probably why I like climbing) and there's been enough there to stop any underground explorations.

This all changed this weekend. I've been exploring small easy caves on wet days in the peak with friends, and this was helping be get over my fear of the dark and get more comfortable with being underground. I'd been given a book for my birthday called “caves of the peak district” which I'd read over and over so I had a reasonable theoretical knowledge of how to go about caving and I happened to find 2 friends, who'd never been before as madly psyched as I was about the idea of actually going underground. As for gear, well we just made do with what we'd brought already... and made a small purchase along the way.

Originally I'd not intended to explore a cave that required any ropework, but when Finney and Ronnie both offer to use their rope our options opened up a little bit more. We settled in the end for Owl Hole in the Peak, billed as one of the largest natural open pots in the country. To be perfectly honest I don't know what I was expecting when we got there. We parked the car up at the side of the road, which mean that we reversed at high speed getting it stuck in the mud, but off the road at least and geared up with what we thought we would need.

What we thought we would need was a bit of an odd thing to consider as none of us had actually been properly caving before. I had a theoretical knowledge of caving rope ropework and a lot of it doesn't differ much from rock climbing. Even though it uses the same and similar equipment there is still a a big difference between the two. To the harnesses, jumars and 'biners we added helmets, headtorches, some food and water, cameras, first aid kit and our guidebook. All of this got crammed into an old caving sack that Staffs Uni MC uses to hold their spare helmets... not today though.

I said I didn't know what to expect and this was true. I didn't think Owl Hole would be so small or so vegetated. I assumed that “one of the Derbyshires largest natural open potholes” would be much larger than it actually was. The guidebook describes how it used to be a filled with rubbish until 1993 when the National Park Authority cleaned it out. There's still evidence of rubbish everywhere, but it's subtly being covered by overgrowth. There are several different rifts and passages heading off from the base of the pothole and after some deliberating and checking the guidebook, we just dived into a tunnel heading towards the Chamber's Chamber.

Being rather gung-ho about the whole caving thing I volunteered to go first. This of course is a slight downside when your not comfortable with the idea of being alone in a cave but never the less I dived in anyway. There's clearly been some kind of dig going on, evidenced by the piles of rocks just outside the entrance and the planks of wood, buckets and clay everywhere. I'm not going to lie, but at first I struggled to try and stay clean. This of course was a pointless exercise and had you seen the inside of the cave you would have agreed with me. At the first junction I stopped (missing the Chamber's Chamber) and Ronnie took the lead following the Nomis Chambers until for some reason, we just turned round and went back.

Going back was a good idea because we actually found and had a decent look around the Chamber's Chamber this time. Not that there was much moving around but the chamber was composed of a hole in the the “ceiling” which you could get you head and shoulders through. The “ceiling” was actually a thin ceiling which was the base of a small pool (a puddle really) of clear water in a small cavern with flowstone covering the walls. It was a real delight to see such a beautiful place at the end of such a dirty tunnel.

Outside in thence back outside we didn't really waist any time descending into another pot, this time one that was grated with a metal cover (several pieces of metal actually) and lead into a chamber called Owl's bottom. Just after the entrance to Owl's Bottom there was a steeply downward angled passage which was covering in scaffolding. Any thought of going down there we put off because we thought it was unstable. It wasn't until we actually read up in the guidebook that the passage is safe and leads to some beautiful rock formations (a cascade of flowstone) and the deepest point in the caves. In Owl's Bottom we had a look around, but it was hardly impressive. There was old initials scratched into the ceiling, probably from miner's but there was no evidence of what they mined.

Our next challenge lay in the form of exploring the Crystal Pallas Chamber. This challenge started with a 7 metre bolt ladder which needed to be climbed before entering the tunnel. As the group “rope technician” (a position I was appointed, not asked for) I went up first in the finest display on climbing that a man can muster on slippy polished limestone in wellies. All I can say is thank god there where bolts to pull on as I wasn't getting up otherwise! With both Ronnie and Finney belayed up to me we set about looking for the Crystal Pallas Chamber.

Navigating in caves so far that day had been reasonably easy. They'd all be straight tubes and you had no choice of where to go. This was a little different as the passage we wanted was off to the left (or more accurately the east) of the main passage. We overshot this completely and ended up in Hoggmorton Aven. This Aven was quite beautifel inside, being reasonably high and having some amazing stalagtites, mites and columns. We'd have got more pictures inside but there was so much moisture in the air that it made flash photography almost worthless. While we were viewing the walls suddenly a bat made it's presence known to use and started flying round the cave. This freaked me out a little. We tried to find the passage we needed and not realising we were further than we should by I volunteered to push further on into the cave. This involved a tight squeeze.

I'm not going to lie, but I came very close to panicing. I'll got back and squeeze though that little section but this time it got me. We searched the whole of the Aven and then carried on moving back down the main passage looking for the exit, slowly convincing ourself it was blocked up... then we found it! A short passage with ended in a sudden drop. It was quite creepy to actually look at, but we'd found it and set about rigging things up. Rigging in caving follows the same principals are climbing, but it's more akin to access work or what we do when I'm route setting. I only know how to rig things because I've spent years reading up on caving to make up for the fact that I wasn't actually going underground. This rig was very simple and soon I've abseiled off into the chamber, leaving another device pre-rigged up for Andy to clip into and join me.

For a while I had the whole chamber to myself. It didn't feel horrible and scary but instead it felt thrilling. I'd managed to actually go caving, properly. This was massive as far as I was concerned! A real milestone in my life. Soon Finney and Ronnie joined me and we explore the chamber in it's entirety. There seems to be a lot of dig's going on in Owl Hole and this was evidenced by the buckets and mud everywhere. I guess the main feature of the chamber was the ceiling with it's massive columns hanging down and which had lead to some amazing formations on the cave floor. There was quite a lot of tape around as well. They tape off areas of the cave into walk ways to stop formations being damaged or even touched. Your skin is acidic and therefore the oils can damaged delicate formations, but other than that people are heavy handed and things break or get covered in mud. It's not like it rains down here to wash things off. The back of the chamber was a mass of loose material that had clearly fallen in at some point. We actually found roots (from the trees above?) which had forced their way through the weaknesses in the rock and now dangled in the cave. In our explorations I climbed half way down towards the Gour Chamber, but this proved very muddy and something we would have liked a rope for. We decided to save it for next time. 

(Some long shutter photography using a petzl duo 14 as a light source)

(beaturfiul crystals and rock formations growing in a small pool)

(The hanging ceiling)

(an attempt at long shutter team pic, sadly we all moved)

(A bat, we were careful not to disturb)

It probably sounds like the whole thing was plain sailing but we did have a few hiccups along the way. Ronnie took ages getting down to join us in the Chamber and we soon found out the reason why. His gri-gri was stuck covering the nose of a 'biner. It was wedged in place and took me ages to actually release it. Finney had never ascended a single rope before and both Ronnie and Finney had a real fight to actually get over the lip of the cave. The clay covering on the rope caused us to be rather slow as ascending and meant that my gri-gri 2 wasn't the best piece of kit for the job. It's too small to handle clayed up rope apparently. Instead Ronnie was sending the old style gri-gri and the shunt back down for us to use. On the final throw down, this mass of metal hit me in the arm.

Once we'd all topped out, I set about stowing the gear while Ronnie and Finney tried to cram themselves in a small hole they'd found (sadly it went no where) and tired hungry and bruised we headed out of the cave. Instead of the warm sunlight glow that had come down the main passage before there was an eerie cold light at the end of the tunnel. Darkness had fallen and it was close to pitch black outside. Undeterred (or more like with no choice) we abseiled off. Coiled the ropes and took the customary team photo and headed home.

I guess you could say our adventure wasn't over. To celebrate we planned to have some decent food and while Finney cooked me and Ronnie washed all the gear. And by all I mean all. I scrubbed out the gri-gri's and all the headwear in the kitchen sink which Ronnie washed all the clothes in the bath. Needless to say the house was a mess and while I stuck everything in the drier Ronnie had to mop and try and unblock the bath tub (which I think is still blocked). It was a damp end to a good day.

I got so much out of this day underground. What was really nice was the team work that went on, throughout the day with each of us fetching and carrying the bags of kit and ropes throughout the cave. Even though some of us had more defined roles (I was left to deal with ropework and rigging) we all pulled together really well. This carried on all evening while we all piled in to clean all the kit up. To be honest I don't think we'd have got it all done if not. It also made me realise how little I know about caves, caving, and how caves are formed. The guide book keeps mentioning things like phreatic tubes and I've no idea what they are. It was nice to look up and see rock formations on the ceiling that I'd no idea how they formed.

I basically couldn't wait to go again. 

 

Some fine welsh rock.

Climbing with Soames generally means I'll be climbing somewhere in North Wales, even if you've only actually got the one day to go climbing. But this is all good with me. If I could only climb in North Wales for the rest of my life, I still wouldn't get bored.

Our hatched plan was to decided on the move, so I just turned up with a stack of guidebooks and we drove off already putting off the inevitable decision about where to actually climb. The weather helped us make a decision as it was raining in the mountains... and you know what that means. That's right we ended up at the coast to clear skies and chill in the air. I was pretty annoyed on the walk in to main cliff as, yet again, I'd forgotten my camera!

We decided to go for a 2 star HVS 5a called Gauntlet. The short path down to main cliff was fine, but the vegetation was still soaked (as the sun had yet to move round) leaving us both with soaking wet rock boots to start the climb. I got to lead Pitch 1 (5a) which I found to be challenging but good. The climbing really was excellent. It followed and corner and groove system up until the belay. There was some excellent jamming and finger locks in the crack on the way up. I hardly had to actually pull on my arms at all. That said there was a lot of pushing off my arms and high stepping instead.

Annoyingly the belay was a hanging belay, with only 1 foothold to actually stand on. For the first 5 minutes it was alright but 30 minutes later the seemingly constant bruise that runs arcoss my back (from spending too much time in a harness) had flared up again. Still, suffering is fun, right?

Soames lead pitch 2 (4c) which from below looked again excellent and reasonably easy. It was not the case, well no wholly anyway. It was excellent, but it wasn't easy. I had more trouble seconding it that I did leading the first pitch (I think this might have more to do with the a possible disparity between how hard you find things depending on whether your on the sharp end or not, but more about that another time). Sadly this pitch although about 4 metres long only contained about 15 metres of rock climbing and 35 metres of gently making upward progress amongs loose rock, grass and mud. A normal top-out at Main Cliff really.

As we'd left lunch in the car we walked back from main cliff and started out drive home, with the intention of finding something to do in Llanberis Pass on the way. It took us a while to decide was to get on partly because there are few routes in my grade that Soames hasn't already done and partly because there was so much to choose from. We settled on a route called Cornix that claimed to be HVS 4c. It was put in '53 by Hugh Banner, apparently known for stiffly grading his routes. We were not disappointed.

This time Soames jumped on the lead but was back down soon after. There was something about the route that just seemed to get under his skin. It was quite unnerving as it's very rare that I've ever seen Soames have a bad day like that. He untied and offer me the lead, which I accepted and off I set. The climbing was again excellent, the rock however was not. This was not a bad thing in the slightest. It vastly increased the level of acceptable risk and completely changed how I climbed the route.

I lead all three pitches on this route, whilst digging deeper and deeper into my own mind trying to understand why I hadn't bailed off it. Pitch 1 was not 4b, well at least it wasn't in my mind. Maybe if I'd been brave enough to actually weight some of the loose holds it would have bee 4b. I was relieved to actually top out on that pitch, after I'd removed a load of loose rock and nearly killed 2 sheep in the process (apparently sheep don't recognize "below!").

Pitch 2 promised to be better (good climbing and little loose rock) in the guide, however this wasn't so. The climbing was better, though harder than stated in the guide (more like 5a than 4c) but the amount of loose rock was about the same as the first pitch! I remember finding a horrible loose flake and slowly realizing that I'd have to actually weight it to make the next move, above a very shallow spike runner. This was quickly followed by a series of mantle shelves and yet another host of loose rock being clear off. At least the belay was nice, nestled in the shade of a few trees.

And pitch 3? well after pitches one and 2 I wasn't expecting it to be 4a and this was confirmed  as I stood half way up, on a wet foothold I'd cleaned of moss with my other foot heel hooking a shallow flake to keep me on the wall. It certainly wasn't 4a climbing but that didn't stop it being excellent. I topped out and shouted I was safe, happy in the knowledge that I only had to walk off now.

On the descent I noticed that the large wall round to the side doesn't appear to have any lines on it, so maybe there's some new routing potential there? It was a great day and nice to be out climbing trad instead of clipping bolts.

Ecrins (the first post of many)

I've just got back from a week in Ecrin, France. I've been happily clipping bolts and climbing massive mountain routes in beautiful locations. Time passed too quickly out there, even though it feels like I've been gone for a month and now I'm back I just want to be away again. Life is simpler in a tent.

I can't seem to get over how big the Alps are. Even though where we were staying was higher than Snowdon (and higher than Ben Nevis in fact) the peaks were still towering above us. Everything natural seems bigger but all the human impacts (like towns, buildings, roads and people) seem so much smaller. It's a very humbling place to be, I guess you can realize how small you really are there. 

The climbing has been immense. We only went for long rock routes with no glacial approaches. This was for a few reasons. Soames has little ice experience and I although I've got some winter experience, I've not experience on glaciers. Also it meant that approaches could be done in trainers not big boots, and ice tools and crampons could be leave in a box under the bed (till the winter season returns!) thus meaning a smaller lighter pack. I actually used my little lowe alpine crag attack all week. With enough cramming and judicious deciding of what to actually carry it all fitted, and I was able to climb with it.

Actually the whole trip was immense. From driving for long hours, to dealing with the heat to enjoying a cold grande biere after each day. One of the amazing things was how many people we spoke to, and who made the effort to come over and speak to us. It wasn't like being in England where people seem to be confined to their own little groups and corrals of tents at the weekend. There was a vastly different atmosphere about the whole place. On top of all this we learned loads. We learnt little things that would make life a little easier and big things that would change the way we approached climbing bolted mountain rock.


It was a good trip. 

Replacements...

(what my guides look like right now, a pretty sorry state)

About a year and half ago I brought a pair of 5.10 Guide Tennies. They are a pretty simply made approach (though I dislike the term) shoe. They are not waterproof (in the style of a gore-tex liner etc), they have no fancy bells and whistles and the sole is very simple. I love them to bit, quite literally to bits as well because I spent the last week in Ecrin's spending my evening super gluing bits on the rubber on the front back on. 

(rubber coming away at the front, solution:

 Superglue!)

Whats good about these shoes? Well they're light, which means that you can carry them up behind you clipped to your harness when you're climbing. This is important as I like having this option. They're also pretty low bulk, so they are not a massive thing dangling off you. Unlike the 5.10 camp 4's (great shoes, I just didn't like them at all) they don't have a massive heel cages that make you feel like you're wearing high heels!

They're reasonably hard wearing. Considering the upper is only leather and the sole is made of 5.10 stealth rubber I didn't expect them to last this long. I have a bad tendency to wear my approach shoes into big mountain routes and other such places where boots would be much more appropriate. There is one hole in the leather, but I'll get round to that. The soles haven't exactly split but they do let in a little water. I can't work out from where though. 

(Damage and repairs with seam sealer)

I like the fact they have a massive covering of leather on the toe. This is good as toe's tend to get stubbed and battered when walking around the mountains. It's a shame that the rubber runs out down the side of each shoe like it does. This is my only gripe with the shoes. When you sit cross legged the outside of each foot wears a hole through the side of shoe. This can all be solved by longer rubber rands... or a liberal application of seam sealer (or something similar). It really does work and makes a huge difference.

If you're looking for a damn light, hard wearing approach shoe that you can probably climb about 4c/5a in then these are awesome shoes. They defiantly get my vote!

They're so good, instead of messing round trying to find a new and different pair of shoes to use I've just brought a new pair. I see them as a solid investment. 

(What they should look like!)

Never Descend Climbing Team (and other things)

Well somewhere along the line I've made it onto a climbing team. I'm now (along with a few of my friends) on the Never Descend Climbing Team (check out their website here). I'm definitely not the hardest climber in the world but I am pretty active which is probably why I've ended up on there.

Never Descend is a small climbing company that's been set up Sam Morley. He's really keen to develop products that climber use and need, rather than are mass produced to meet some marketing criteria. So far he's been asking us (being a large group of climbers from the stoke area, via facebook) about different bits of kit that just aren't out there on the market.

I've finally managed to get myself a laptop of my own sorted. This is a pretty big thing as not having a computer has felt a little like I've been missing a limb some days. It also means that I can start shooting short climbing films again. I've even managed to borrow a small HD camera and second tripod for my trip to Devon next week. With Stuart bringing along his camera as well and 3 days of sea cliff climbing, it should make for some pretty good footage and hopefully a half decent short film. It's nice to have something to work on.

As I just mentioned above I'll be climbing in Devon next week, if all goes to plan (and by that I mean it doesn't rain!). The plan has stemmed from another friend trying to organise a roadtrip down through Devon, round cornwall and then back along the south coast to finish at Portland. This would have been an awesome trip, but sadly he never really got round to organising it in full. It's still in the idea phase. Undeterred, but a little strapped for time Stuart and I hashed out a plan to go climbing in Devon, based around him wanting to do Kinky Boots. I don't know why but I've been looking forward to this trip so much recently. It'll all be sea cliff climbing and the Culm coast has a bit of a reputation for being loose, which is something that I highly value in a route (probably thanks to Soames; "the 4 qualities"). The current plan is to start south, at Bude and one of the cliffs around there and then work our way up the coast, finishing at Baggy Point. I've been to Baggy before and loved it. That trip resulted in "A Cornish Adventure" part 1 & part 2. It is literally only now I've realized that we weren't in Cornwall. I've pretty much been wanting to get back down to Devon since that trip. 

To make this a little more interesting, we've no camping booked. The reason being that it's bloody expensive to camp down there. Both of us would rather spend the time cooking on the beach and then having to find a roadside to sleep at. It's pretty much how we operated on our alps trip (which was with Dan and not Stuart) and it worked out well. And as I've mentioned the alps...

I'm going to Ecrins with Soames on the 18th! Soames, who've never done any alpine climbing before asked me in January I think if I'd like to go to the Alps in the summer. He fancies doing some longer routes, right in the mountains. With little snow and ice experience, we're leaving the crampons and tools behind in favor of some sun-kissed rock, baguettes and french cheeses. Flying has was never really an option for us and be both pack a little heavy and enjoy a little more comfort (we even have a camp table) so we were going to train it over. Now car has replaced train and I'm not looking forward to the 12 hour drive. I'll be happier having the car though, as it'll give us some more options to move around. We're going back to the same area in Ecrins I went to last time, La Berade so at least I'll be going somewhere that I've been before.

So the next few weeks should be good!

Couch surfing 101:

Couch surfing: 

A skilled professional sport; most often taken up by the homeless musician. It may consist of riding the 'ultimate wave' (prolonged or permanently scored sofa accommodation) or smaller and shorter waves (temporary stays).
These skilled and talented 'couch athletes' sometimes consider getting a job, but usually are back out in the surf within a few weeks thereafter. 

I've been couch surfing for what seems like years. This doesn't mean to say that I've not had a house of my own (or a room at least) to live in but the climbing life (if you wanted to call it that) just seems to work well with couch surfing. I think it stems from living in B'ham for so long while the majority of my climbing partners and friends live in Stoke-on-Trent. Over the years I've stayed on many couches, floors, occasionally spare beds, but no bath tubs mind and I've picked up a few things.

1. Find out what time the house owner is getting up in the morning. This is pretty important, especially if your someone who likes to sleep late or you've ended up having a late night. Be prepared to fit around somebodies else's living arrangements because at the end of the day they are giving you a place to stay. This works with bedtime too. If they want to sit up till 4am playing xbox or watching films, sat on the couch your supposed to be sleeping on, then it's well it is their call. If you really need sleep just ask if you can crash on the floor in another room.

2. Make sure that everyone in the house is cool with you crashing on the couch. Most of my friends are also climbers and they understand that you'll need a place to crash, especially if you're both heading out to climb again the next day. But just because they're cool with you surfing their couch it doesn't mean everyone else will be. Sometime they're not the house owner or there's other less accommodating persons living there which might cause a problem. You don't want to cause an issue for a friend who's putting you up for the night. There's always somewhere else to crash. (see points 5 & 6)

3. Karma's important! I surfed a while back with a bunch of friends as part of an impromptu bbq and they basically just got drunk in my friends living room (like very drunk) and the chipped off in the morning without much more than a thanks. Part of being a good couch surfer is giving a little back. Whoever is putting you up for the night is going out of their for you, and even though it is only sleeping at their house it's nice to give something back. I generally try and do the washing up, make them a cup of tea for when they wake up (always best to ask if how they like their tea), tidy up anything from the night before. Hell I've gone to the trouble of sweeping someone yard before. This is really important if it's a house that you stay at regularly or it's with one of your friends. You don't want friction because in a friendship because they think you're sponging off them for living space and if it's somewhere your staying regular then you want to keep up a good relationship with the homeowner. 

Oh, and always try and replace the milk if you've been sat around all day drinking tea!

4. Orientation is key. Find out where everything is, like kitchen, bathroom, front and back doors. Light switches are a pretty key thing to know the location of too. Hopefully this'll stop you bumbling around in the night should you need something and waking everyone up with a load of bashing and crashing.

5. Don't impose. Don't assume that you're staying there, even if you've crashed before. If the nights getting late don't wait till the last minute before requesting a sleeping space, especially if you've been drinking. You don't want to put someone in a awkward position where they feel they have to let you stay, even if they don't want to because they can't turn you out onto the street. It's best to always have a back-up plan (like a car to sleep in) just in case you forget. Also don't guilt trip people into letting you stay by complaining about staying the night in the car. It's just not cool. I've found that if you've stayed there before and you've been a good house guest that you'll generally get and offer of a couch, before you feel the need to ask.

6. Know when to leave. This is a big one! You don't want to jeopardize a friendship because you can't shift your lazy ass off the couch. Know when someone wants you to leave or give them a bit of time to themselves. If that means finding a new couch or returning to base camp (wherever you call home) then so be it.

Inbetween the rain

Managed a short day in at Baldstones last week, before the rain hit of course. We'd got up late so I only managed to get three routes in before getting a real soaking on the walk out. It was one of those "I'll be ok, it's not too far, I won't need a waterproof" moments. Apparently I did, and thus got wet. 

I think we probably ticked off three of the crag classics, the Original Route (E2 5c), Baldstones Arete (HVS 4c) and Baldstones Face (VS 4b). I've been wanting to do the Original Route there since I spotted a picture of Justin Critchlow leading it in the old guide book. That slab just looks awesome to climb on... and it was! However the 5c boulder problem proved to be mighty hard to get up to it. It gets V2 on it's own so I was glad we'd brought a pad with us as I managed to slip off more than enough times before I nailed it.

Tim lead the Arete, in fine style and not bothering to get worked up but the run out nature of the route. He said afterwards that he was really surprised he'd actually carried on and lead it because normally stuff like that just freaks him out. To me it seemed to be a good lead. He did hesitate just before he stepped out onto the arete, but he didn't stop.

We then looked at a few horrible offwidth crack that were caked in green and decided against them before I lead Baldstones Face, the longest route of the day at a whopping 15 metres. Again a good route, runout but traversed the slab I'd already climbed as part of the Original Route. It was sitting on top that I spotted the rain coming in and urged Tim to climb quicker. As I said earlier, we got wet. 

(all photo's courtesy of Matt Snell)

Life, jobs and becoming a full-time climbing bum

These last 2 months or so have been a bit of a weird one for me. In this time I've broken up with a long term partner, quit my job of 4 years because I'm sick and tired of it and thus thrown myself into a life of uncertainty. I've not got a job to walk straight into, and no real prospects of work. I also don't really know what I want to do with my life either. I guess a lot of this is just normal at the moment. I'm slightly annoyed that I've got not job because there were some parts of it that I really liked, but the crux of the whole issue was that it was paying me enough to get by and climb, but not enough that I'd ever really make anything of it. It was also a dead-end and without retraining, that was it. I did toy with the idea of teaching, but I really don't think that's the job for me. The good teachers I've met over the year (either being taught or working along side them) have been passionate people, who poor everything into their teaching. They might not be the highest qualified or have the most degrees but they provide for the students like no other. I can't be a teacher like that, not until I've sorted some way to managed the other obsession that seems to dominate my life.


I did managed a to get a weeks work, through a friend and climbing partner (Tim). It was sold to me as a residential where I'd be doing ML work for two days (walking with a group) and an overnight at a campsite. Then a days SPA work (leading groups climbing and abseiling) and then another two days like the firsts. I was also told my hours would be 8 till 4, which I thought was pretty sweet, little did I know...


What a wild week is all I can really say. I did work 8 till 4, but also a bunch of hours before and after that. I didn't care as it was nice to have something dominating my day like work I enjoyed rather than sitting round getting bored. As freelance instructors we were offered a room and food for the week at Malham Tarn Field Centre, if we agreed to do one evening activity for the groups. Of course we accepted. I met loads of really cool people, from all over the country and I learnt loads. It realised how long I've been out of the Outdoor Ed industry pretty quickly and for the first couple of day I felt like I was running just to stay level. By the wendesday I felt much better about the whole thing. 


That isn't to say there were some bad moments. We have awkward staff to deal with, difficult kids, medical issues (some they bothered to tell us before hand, and some they didn't), kids with SEN, odd groups sizes and bad weather. I got a ride in an ambulance too but none of the bad things really mattered. I didn't wake up each day, put on a shirt and tie, tie up my shoes and drive across a town centre in rush hour traffic. I'd have done this weeks work for free if they'd have asked.

Oh yeah, and I was based in Malham. Amazing scenery:

(Malham Cove)

Climbing seems to have taken a little rest for the moment. I've trashed my fingers attempting Tierdrop (and bumped my head!) but I just feel generally knackered. Instead I've spent sometime at base camp (parents house) spending time with my little brother and sister who've I've missed after a week away. 


My ex (I hate using that term to describe someone, but it fits so) used to tell me "do what you want". It never came over how she meant it but I finally got it after I handed in my notice. I am doing what I want, even if it isn't much. Tim asked me the other day is we lead good lives (during a reasonably deep conversation on the journey home from Yorkshire). To answer I asked him if he felt he was happy doing what he was doing? and did his lifestyle impact negatively on anyone he knew or cared about. 


life is good.

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...