Discharged!

I've been discharged from my hand consultant. I found out that the point of going to see them every 4 weeks or so was so that they could see how my physiotherapy was going and to decide whether I needed to be opened up again if things were not healing properly. Other than the nice consultant running her nails along my hand scars this wasn't a bad meeting. The first question she asked was “have you been climbing?”, to which I replied “yes, but I've told my physio”, added hurriedly as an afterthought. She didn't seem too bothered. We discussed how my hand is fairing and any problems. It might seem odd to be writing about having a now almost fully functioning hand, but if you'd seen the state of it 11 and a half weeks ago (especially the inside) then you'd be as amazed as me. I'd accepted that I'd never be about to open it again, thinking of it like a withered limb. I was happily getting on with working out how I'd continue in life with this pointless appendage, despite being told it'll be all right. Six weeks ago I couldn't open my hand, four weeks ago I couldn't put my palms flat together, two weeks ago I couldn't put them flat together, with my wrists bent at right angles (same position as prayer I guess, not that I've been praying). Now all these things are within my grasp!

The only oddity is that when I make a fist my 3^rd finger curls inwards slightly, rubbing against my 2^nd finger. I've been told it's because the tendon has probably re-aligned to avoid the swelling creating my by now defunct A1 pully. Who cares though? I can make a fist, my hand is almost normal... heavily scarred but essential normal.

I've not been discharged from my physiotherapy though and this I am glad of. My trip to the hospital each Thursday marks the progress I'm making. Each week there is something new. A new exercise, or a new strength putty to squeeze which make me feel better about the whole process. I've mentioned that my physio knows I've been climbing. They said the normal things (“we must advise that it's a bad idea” etc...) but all seem genuinely interested to hear how I've been getting on climbing on what should (by most peoples accounts) be a weak useless bunch of fingers on the end of a withered arm. There are endless discussions each week about taping (advised by the consultant, dismissed by me, and discussed later), grip strength, how each hold is used, area of pressure and stress on my fingers and how bloody strong my thumb is (it really is amazing!). They stopped telling me not to climb on it after week 3 anyway.

(A range of homemade physio equipment)

[WARNING: the next section develops into a massive rant about climbing tape]

With regards to taping up the fingers I initially brought it up with my physio. He didn't have much of a clue about it (unsurprisingly, as taping up fingers seems to be a “climbing” thing) but suggested that if it helps, why not? My consultant then brought it up an hour later. We discussed taping, pully rings (metal rings that do the job of the pully) and if it would be of any benefit. I said no and eventually she agreed. The damaged pullys in my hand are not worth taping (my A1 is compleltely cut open, and therefore redundant) and the A2 is never in enough stress to need a back up like that. I don't want to tape my fingers up either, and here's why:
Taping up you fingers correctly is very hard to do unless:
a) you are a hand consultant, medical professional, climbing specific physio etc or
b) you've seen a flayed hand and know what you're looking at, therefore knowing where to tape.

Thankfully I've been able to either hang out and discuss taping with people who fall into category a) and, since slicing open my hand I've become interested in what's going on in there and probably fall under the category of b). I still don't see a need to tape though.

Doesn't it annoy you when you see people down the climbing wall (not usually at the crag, but you always get these types at the climbing wall) taping up all their fingers with thick hoards of tape, applied regardless of where any damage it. I might start asking people which pully they've damaged or who their physio is (having told them to tape) when I'm next down the wall? Then again I might not. One you start taping up, you've got the be very very very very very careful not to become a “slave to tape”. For one thing it looks a little silly having each flan-gee or each finger on each hand taped up. I know there are people out there who do it to impress people, to make them think they're serious climbers... who're they kidding! (bear in mind the serious climber is probably the quiet chap or lass who climbs or boulders extremely hard down the wall, but you hardly hear them say a word). Confidence is quiet, someone once said. Confidence is also not being covered in tape.

Tape is also a self-fulfilling prophecy. People tape up for several reasons but the main ones can be summed up as:
a) to support an injury (either gained before or during, depending on the severity)
b) to prevent an injury coming back (also known as “I've got it dodgy tendon mate, so I keep it taped...”)

If you find yourself falling into category a) then I'm sorry you hear you've had an injury, but you're going the right way about it. The first thing you should do is stop climbing, at least for a few days, maybe a week. People don't do this. You should also actually do something to help repair the tendon. Hot and cold treatment is one of the best things. Before you start manically applying half a roll of tape to your hand at your next climbing session, stop and think. Do you know the purpose of taping? What injury are you trying to prevent? Do you know how to tape it up properly? If you can answer all of these, then go ahead! (also if you can answer most of these, then you and me are probably already singing from the same hymn sheet). THE IMPORTANT THING IS TO KEEP TRYING TO REPAIR THE TENDON! If you spend the next 6, 8, 12 weeks with it strapped up then the tendon will heal, but it won't be fully strong. You'll have generate this tendon that is strong enough... when taped up. Therefore you'll be taping again... see?

If you fall into b) then there is probably no hope for you... only joking! The body has an amazing capacity to heal, that coupled with the NHS, doctors and medical professionals in general means that you really do stand a fighting chance of repairing that single damaged pully (or whatever it is). Trust me on this. Taping up to prevent injury is like saying to your body “don't worry, the tape will do the work for you!”. If and when you stop taping up, that tendon is now not strong. Not weak either, but not 100%. Then you expect it to perform like a fully functioning bundle of fibres and... “snap!” (or “tweak!” but it never makes that noise) it happens. In your head it's the lack of tape. In reality it's because of too much tape in the first place.

The bottom line is that you need to make sure you heal any injuries, instead of just strapping them up. In the long run they won't last.

There'll be people reading this thinking a variety of things. Probably the most prevalent is that I'm morally, medically and fully against the use of tape. THIS IS SIMPLY NOT TRUE. I tape to prevent excess damage and support, as and when I need too. It might be for one week or maybe two, but never more than that. People probably think I don't know what I'm on about. WHY SHOULDN'T I KNOW WHAT I'M ON ABOUT?. I've studied it (not academically) and discussed it and bloody well tried it. I've ruptured several tendons in my fingers over the years. I've held my hand in a lot of ice water then warm water (the process of giving yourself “hot aches” isn't fun, but it works) and I've carefully learnt how to tape up different joints for different injuries. I've asked people. The final things people proabaly think is, how did this become a rant about tape... BECAUSE IT DID and that's why.

Ironically I'll finish by telling you that I've just been shown how to tape up my ankle, with three wide strips of climbing tape for extra support. This will be an aid to full recovery... not an excuse. I'm slowly on the mend which was the original point of this post, though it will be a very long road. My ankle is in an awful state (compared to my hand) and I've not yet started any physiotherapy.

It's time to dance in the rain.

Chamonix 4.5 (Thoughts on Frendo Spur)

Looking back: Thoughts on Frendo Spur.

[If the terms “Engineer” and “Artist” make no sense then that's ok. It means you'll have to read through a book by Mark Twight called Extreme Alpinism. Other than being full of useful information based on his own experiences, it's full of stories and opinions in a blunt and witful style that makes it a fantastic read, especially seeing as it could be quite a boring textbook on alpinsim]

The Engineer

It's seem like all the route we've done up to this one have been training for Frendo. I'd like to think when I look back that Frendo itself was used a training for bigger and better things. Through out each trip into the mountains I've been doing little things like keeping an eye on how much gas we've used so that I don't over prepare, making note of what gear was actually used and what was just left in the pack (like my down jacket, which was left behind) and how much I need to keep on top of a mirad on little things that don't seem important at the time, but in the long run are important... like drinking and eating.

We did almost everything right on Frendo down to spending weeks before hand training up on other routes, constantly getting used to different snow conditions throughout the days, carrying almost only what we needed. We're almost on first name terms with the guides at their office in Chamonix (they have a funny smile, which seems to say “oh no, here come those British Lads again” every time we walk in) after going in over and over to ask about conditions and routes. Hell, this was my 5^th proper alpine route and Andy's 4^th and he's ony been ice climbing since Easter this year! We were lucky with our ascent, not because we needed to be but because we prepared for it correctly.

I don't think it was all a fairy tale ascent though. We didn't drink enough water (barely 1.5 litres each) throughout the day and by the end of it we were both lagging and suffering with dehydration. It also meant that we had to force loads of water down our necks at the bivi. Eating was another issue, but in an odd way. We had surplus food by the time we'd finished which meant that on both days we'd not eaten enough during the day. I know day one seemed to consist of a couple of bars of chocolate, some goats cheese and half a pack of Frites (the cheapest of sweets from Super-U). Day 2 wasn't much different after we'd had breakfast as it was back to the frites from me and virtually nothing for Andy. It's just a small thing to remember for next time I'm climbing. I'll make sure I'll put me food and water in the top of my pack so that I have them ready to hand at each belay or whenever we stop.

I know some people will think it quite sad that I do this after each route, sit down and analyse the climb to see what I could have done better but I don't care. I like to think of each climb as a learning experience (some can be a lot of steeper than others!) and being able to do this might just make me a better performing, safe and faster climber.

The Artist

Looking back how was the route; what did I enjoy and what didn't I enjoy? The first isn't hard to answer at all. The ice on day 2 was my favourite part of the whole experience, made all the better after spending the night on the ledge and watching the sun go down. We'd spent hours deciding whether to go left or right for days really, but in the end right was the obvious choice as far as I was concerned, it stay in the shade till later and was longer, longer being important. I don't get to climb as much ice as I'd like so when I do I'll take the opportunity. Climbing ice is so unbelievably simple, from climbing it to belaying on it to everything about it (ok, I know it's not actually “simple” but compared to technical rock climbing it is). Everything in my mind quiet, like some form of bizarre meditation where all I can here is the screaming of my various muscles (mostly my calves). The screaming sounds like the noise at the end of a tunnel though, it doesn't realy bother the solace in my mind.

The other side of it is when the ice meets the rock. Then the mind is focused, so much on a point (literally sometimes on the point of my axe or crampon) that everything is still silent. I have no worries, no cares, no concerns . Whatever is going on in the rest of my life. The climbing is suddenly engaging, like climbing a steep slab where at any moment your foot could go... but instead it's somethings all your points of connection. Working out how I'm going to haul myself up some steep groove with weird cracks and small amounts of ice just mentally sandblasts me. It feels like my mind has been cleaned out and all the little things don't matter.

Sadly you can't stay up there forever and sooner or later the rope pulls tight at your waste. It's the end of the line and the pitch is over. In the smallest way it's back to reality but you know there'll be another pitch. When the climb is over is when I get really sad. You just don't know when the next one will be.

Oddly enough it was the rock climbing on the first day that I enjoyed the least. There is plenty of rock in England and I get to climb on a lot of it but there's not much ice and mixed. I spent most of the time thinking “once this rock is over then it'll be back to ice and possibly mixed, just keep climbing and waiting”. That's probably quite a sad way to view it but it was just a means to an end. I like rock climbing when it's challenging. 

Skincare?

I remember berating a friend about a year ago for moitsuring his hands after a climbing session. Now maybe I wasn't climbing as much as him, or my chalk was less drying but my hand were fine and I didn't see a point in moisturiser. Now my fingers are a consant sore point, pun intended. I climb each weekend, and unless I actually go bouldering and my hand stay covered in chalk, outdoor climbing isn't that bad. But indoor climb, something I do twice a week is killing them.

Each Wednesday and Friday I wake up and can't touch anything with my fingertips. One of the staff are redpoint told me off the other day for not looking after my hands, and berating me for my laid back attitude where by I just said I'd superglue a split tip back together if need be. Now I really would superglue a finger tip back together, but only if it was going to stop me climbing for a weekend. In reality I'm just not giving my skin time to heal, but it's had to take a week or so off.

I think I've got to actually looking after my finger tips a little more.

First Aid Course

Well I finally bit the bullet and gave up some of my time for some personal development. Currently my ML is invalid and I haven't officially passed my SPA due to the fact I don't hold a First Aid Qualification. After looking around and a recommendation off a friend I settled on a course provided by High Peak First Aid in Edale. I booked on a 16 hour "Wilderness First Aid Course" and decided on doing it here because I could stay in Stoke night. So was it any good?

I'm going to admit that I really didn't want to the a FA course. The last one I did was classroom based and I spent 2 days bored out of my skull, so I wasn't thrilled at giving up to days of my holiday especially since school refused to let me have the time off, even without pay, rant over. The FA course was excellent. I really enjoyed it mainly because was less classroom based. We spent at least half of each day dealing with "casulties" outside and covered in fake blood. The course spent alot of time drumming in simple things mainly along the lines of indecision kills quicker than no decision at all in most cases.

On top of this most of the people on the course where either climbers, worked in the outdoor industry or where just really interesting to talk to. Everyone had anocdotes to add or real life situations that they'd been in which kept the course intersting. All in all I guess I shouldn't have put it off for so long.

A crap post...

You'll understand the joke in a minute.

Theres a subject among climbers and mountaineers that rarely talk about. This isn't something as grand as the costs of mountaineering, brought to light in Marie Coffey's book "Where the mountain casts it's shadow". It's something a little closer to home... going to the toilet.

In recent years (the last 10) more and more people have been heading out into the hills. More and more people are climbing and especially there are more winter climbers. With most crags in Britain being roadside (scottish roadside, under an hours walk) and the increase in personal transport, better provided transport links this has lead to the hills, mountains and crags being reduced to a long drive and a short walk at most.

Going to the toilet in the hills is a subject thats avoided even among groups of close mates it seems. This winter me and Andy have been urinating in the same spot, just to avoid the eyesore that is a mass of yellow snow just off path. After and walk into t-sneachda after a busy weekend you can see urine stains every 30 metres or so. In summer it's different. You do all you can to avoid urinating in a stream or river. Current advice is 30 metre at least from a water source (ML training, 2007).

Urinating is pretty easy, especially for us guys. You can go out of your way to avoid streams etc. What about takin a crap though? The best piece of advice is to go before you go out on the hill. You can try this forever, but you'll get caught enventually and if this happens? Well for this I try to go by the old adage of:

"leave nothing but footprints, take nothing but pictures & waste nothing but time"

In the past I've dug so called "cat holes" as advised by the MLTE. For those who don't know it's pretty simple. You did a hole at least 6 inches deep and save the soil and turf removed. Crap and then burn the paper, completely. Then bury it and wash your hands. But what do you do in winter? Again the go before you go comes into play here, but if thats not the case and you get caught out then there is another option.

Don't just crap in the snow! this is horrible and won't breakdown properly. It'll contaminate snow and then water sources. With so many people going into the hills and snowholing this is becoming a big problem in places like Cairngorm. You can carry it out by this scheme, but what if there's no scheme... well buy some sandwich bags then.



I usually carry this out on the hill regardless and it's saved us on numerous occasions.

Those of you that have just seens whats coming are probably grossed out a little by this. What? seriously? carry my crap out in a sandwich bag? Well it's three bags actually, and it'll really re-inforce the lesson go before you go. There are various method of getting it into the bag which I'll leave people to find out for themselves, but ideally get large sandwich bags, this makes the whole process as damn sight easier ( I really can't stress large sandwich bags enough). You still burn your toilet paper, and wash your hands like normal but crap, seal the bag and wrap up the top, then into the next bag and repeat until your happy it's sealed. It'll probably go without saying that you should protect it in someway for the walk out (I suggest under a helmet in an old hat but you might take umbridge to that).

Bear in mind that people do pretty much the same Big walling all over the world, for several days. And you know it's horrible going to a crag and finding toilet roll and crap stuffed away in a crack. So in future just suck it up, go before you go and carry it out it you do.

happy crapping.

Onsighting and grounding up...

After reading a few posts this morning about "is this an onsight?... what is an onsight... etc etc blah blah blah" I decided to rant about it a little so...

I may as well put a story into this, so it starts at 6am one sunday morning with driving up to Stoke to meet Toaf. Warm day, but cool rock so we went to Ramshaw and did a classic to start, The Crank (VS 4c for anyone who can jam, 5a for anyone who can't). Then we found ourselves below Traveller in time (E4 6a). This was a route a couple of friends of mine had headpointed (practised the moves on top-rope and tested the gear placements before hand) and subsequnetly lead. I'd actually watch my mate climb the start on video, but turned it off as I didn't want to see anymore. E4 6a was a pretty high grade for me (it still is) but we thought we give at go anyway.

bah? Onsight? Ground up? You know even my Dad knows what these terms mean, and he doesn't touch rock at all (though he has argeed to come out climbing with me one day). I think the film "Onsight" managed to explain a lot of climbing terms really well. So what is an onsight? As far as I'm concerned its climbing a route without any prior knowledge of the moves or gear placements (having prior knowledge of gear or moves is termed beta). So you pretty much turn up at the crag, find a line that inspires you, check the guidebook description you make sure it's within your grade and then have a crack at it. But what happens if you fall off or downclimb, this is where people get all kinds of messed up.

If you downclimb from your high point without weighting the rope (crucial point to note) then you get back on the route I figure you can still claim the onsight. Downclimbing is sometimes flippin harder than that actual climbing, so if you do it without wieghting the rope ot your gear then you can claim the onsight.

We sat at the bottom of the route for ages, listening to "hold your colour" and deciding what gear to take. I took small wires and small cams. Then placed all the gear on the floor ready for Toaf to chuck up anything I needed. I bouldered the start as well to get a feel for the route. Then I walked around it and looked at it from all angles, without actaully abseiling down it. You really couldn't see much, and there wasn't much to see.

So what if I weight the rope then? Well if you fall off or lower off then thats it you've blown the onsight. According to Leo Holding (in Onsight) this is the best place to be. You've blown it, there's no pressure on you to complete the route first go, you can forget about your own ego and you can climb it at will now, but where do you go from here.

Well you either leave your rope in place and then re-climb up to your high point and carry on again. This is called Yo-yoing as you can go up and down like a yo-yo. It used to be acceptable style in the 80's or such. Sometimes the faff of recovering your ropes and gear is too much effort, and you just climb it again like that. On multipitch routes, if a damn sight easier to just yo-yo it. There is another choice, a "purer" ethic. It's called ground up. The climb a route ground up you start at the ground and climb up in one push, without falling off or weighting the rope. Climbing a route such as this (no falls etc) so also termed flashing a route. There is starting to get way too many terms to keep up with, no?

Ropes coiled, up I climbed and through me head ran everything that Alex and Turner had said about the route. I knew there was a gnarly mantleshelf coming up at some point and I just hoped I could do it. I started to wonder if all this information, the 5 seconds of film, the fact that I'd walked around and looked at the route, did this all count as an acceptable level of Beta? could I still claim the onsight? I placed my final pieces from a hard stretch then downclimbing to a half decent rest. Then it was time, up I went and reached out...

So you try for an onsight, if you know nothing about a route. If you fall off your next best option is a ground up ascent, then a yoyo if you really can't be bothered with pulling through your ropes and removing your gear. If you practise a route then lead it it's a headpoint (or redpoint), if you just climb it but you know the moves or gear then this is called beta. It's terms a Beta flash if you managed to climb it without falls.

Smear with the feet, match my hand on the hold and get my foot up and match that as well, then mantle like I've never mantled before. Pushing with my feet and screaming as I pull some muscles in my ribs, Toaf's worried I'll fall off not sure what to do. Tears stream as the pain in my chest subsides and I stand up on my foot, balancing with my hands and trying to get as much friction and possible. I breath a sigh of relief and oddly enough my mind is clear. No thought of the onsight, ground up, beta flash or headpoint. The rest of the climb goes easy after that final hard move. I sat on the top enjoying a quiet moment of contemptation. I couldn't work out how I'd managed to pull off the move.

So was Traveller in Time and onsight for me? I don't think it was. I mean I can bend it in my mind and kid myself that Alex and Turner didn't let on anything crucial, that that 5 seconds of film of Turner on the start, that looking at the route from all angels didn't mean anything, but it did. Even the fact that Alex and Turner had lead it added to my beta. I climbed it ground up in the end, but my lasting memory isn't that it's my hardest ground up route to date, but that all this nonsense about onsighting etc is just all nonsense. Alex Lowe said that "the best climber is the one having the most fun" and that really should be why you climb because its why I climb. My ego does get in the way of my climbing alot, but at the end of the day some of the best route's I've climbed, haven't been the hardest or highest grades, they've been the ones that made me laugh.

Lying down watching the cloud pass over head after completing a VS on Malham's Right hand wall, the only trad we could find. Me and Dan have been lay there for about an hour, just enjoying the sunshine warm soft grass, watching the clouds and scratching our nuts with a variety of different nutkeys , trying to decided which is best. One of my best days climbing ever, and all we did was two VS's.

One anchor? Really...

I was climbing with a friend once who used to only use one anchor when he felt it was safe? What actually sparked this off was a sling round a chockstone which was never in a million years going to move, however there was loads of other opptunities for more gear so I pulled him up on it. "Why only use one anchor?". His response was that it was a bomber anchor, it was never going to move and his friend who was an SPA had told him that in his personal climbing, one anchor was fine.

My friend is a good mountaineer and I would never have expected it off him. It actually occured to me he might have done it to annoy me (in a joking way) because it was an easy route which I've also lead before. Admittedly catastrophic anchor failure isn't a commen occurance, but I'd had a belay completly rip out on me before due to 3 bad anchors in shit rock. Building a belay with more than one anchor is also a fundamental skill in climbing. This whole thing got me thinking about anchors, and namely what risks we willing to take?

So there are no rules in climbing? Or are there? I've already pointed out that its a bit of a mess around the area of "rules", but there are rules, maybe they arn't written on a mighty tablet of stone or anything but they are there. Between me and most of my climbing buddies its commenly accepted that we never use one anchor. We always build some form of redundancy into our systems, whether its a massive 4 piece anchor where each piece is a tree or boulder weighing in at 6 tonnes or its 3 pegs and a nut you've hammered in with your nut key because your worried about the pegs. Basically we never accept 1 anchor, no matter how good.

But why not? My friends counter argument was that you only clip in with one 'biner, you only have one belay loop, only wear one harness etc etc. This is a good point, we do only have one of those things, but then again if we had two of everything would it make climbing possible? There is obviously a level of acceptable riska dn this changed from person to person, rope to rope and with the situation. If I'm out rock climbing I'll never use one anchor, because there is no excuse, but scrambling? well thats another matter. For some reason single anchor belays are accpetable. In the alps me and Dan had a rule that there was never less than one anchor between us moving together. Now if we'd have fell off I'd hate to think what would have happened.

Screwgates is another small "rule" thats odd. Uncle Rob carries enough to have one on each piece for a belay, I on the other hand use wiregates. Now my theory (and its not just my theory) is that snapgates are lighter and if you keeping an eye on for anchors then theres no problem. Rob preferes the extra security of screwgates. I also look at this another way. If I carry less screwgates its slightly lighter, this means more wires or protection. Risk goes both ways.

Anyway I guess this rant is coming to an end. For a sport with no rules, there are some rules. These rules may be different for each team, person and environment but they all follow the same principal. The principal that life is not worth the risk. How much your life is worth however is up to you...(a cold belay, but with 3 anchors at least!)