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!

No post this week? unlikely!

Last weekend was spent at New Mills Torrs. I'm not saying that this has suddenly become my standard peak district bad weather option, but its definatly come somewhere close. This time a larger group of us went, armed with a single rope and 6 pads overall. The day was kick started with some bouldering... and pretty much didn't move from there much at all. 

Below are a few photos from the day, and I think the highlights for me were not getting rained on, managing a few highball problems that I technically could have done last time but didn't have the courage to try (it's amazing what a difference having several pads makes) and sending my second 7a. I also used one of the many brushes that managed to collect to actually clean a hold. 

(Ronnie attempting one of the sport routes on the bridge)

(Steve and Teej bouldering)

Hopefully I'll get some good weather this weekend as I'll be heading to wales to mop up the last of the unrecorded lines at the cliff. Then hopefully I'll have a guidebook available for you. What I'm really excited about is a couple of new guidebooks that have already come out recently or are coming out in the near future. These are the New BMC "Over the Moors" guidebook (here) and new Peak limestone guide book (here) produced by Rockfax. If you've read enough on here you'll know that I'm less in favour of the Rockfax guidebooks, but I'd like to see what they've done with the Peak limestone. Hoepfully it'll encourage more people to get out there and climb on the polish.

New Mills Torrs

With a ambiguous metoffice weather forcast (and yes this does mean I've finally worked out how to use the new metoffice website format) I took this opportunity to get out somewhere in the Peak that I've always wanted to go, but have been saving for a rainy day, New Mills Torr. I have to say that I wasn't unimpressed. This is a great crag in what I can only describe as a romantic setting (however that could have just been the light!) and to think, I only picked it because it has a roof!


New Mills Torrs is just over 20 metres in height and extend along the valley floor. It is also quarried grit, in the finest sense of the world and therefore it's steep, crimpy and has varying degrees of looseness. The rock quality extends from excellent grit to slightly crumbly and loose. There is some very exciting trad there (which I sampled) and some excellent reachy & powerful bouldering (of which there was much sampling) and several sport routes (of which there was no sampling). Sport routes I might hear you cry? on a gritstone crag? Well the sport routes themselves actually run up the bridge legs (?) and have been well bolted. They also have names that hint that the bolting of a gritstone man-made bridge is the small end of the wedge etc, which I thought was fantastic! 

The river is also home to Britain's first Local Hydroelectric scheme, which has been built into the side of the river near the ruins of the old mill that was once there. It has been tastefully built out of the similar materials to the old ruins, runs almost silently and seems to pump out 54 Kilowatts of energy (which Toaf, being a sparky, tells me will power about 10 houses) most of the time. It just got me thinking that why aren't more schemes like this set up? I know in the area around where I work a lot of the council houses are being retrofitted with solar panels, but should it stop here? It wouldn't cost much to start small scale community projects that bring down the local cost of energy production. Sometimes I wonder about things.


Back to the climbing. We'd (Toaf, Ronnie and I) come armed with a couple of pads and some trad gear knowing what the climbing would be like. In retrospect taking a single rope for the sport climbing would have been a better idea, but I think I left it behind so I would have the "lack of single rope" as an excuse to avoid the sport. As it happened we climbed no sport at all and instead spent the day working several traverses and boulder problems, a few highball problems/short solos and a single trad route. 


We started off with the Grim Reaper traverse, which although only got font 6a+ completely shut us down for ages. Looking back we should have probably avoided a traverse under a heavily dripping wall but that actual problem was dry at least. From here we just worked our way right along the wall and gradually upping the grade, a little. We ticked off Viaduct Wall and Viaduct Wall variations before spending ages trying Honcho (Font 6b+?) This is basically the start to the trad route by the same name, which gets E4 6b. 


I'm not being funny but it took us ages. We'd managed both the left and right hand versions of the problem, but the start up direct just seemed to have us completely stumped. It wasn't until I accidentally move my bottom foot (you'd understand if you did the problem) and unlocked the key to the start of the route. From now a second pad was added to our little pile and we could have  real look at the rest of the route. I'll admit that by trying the route ground up made a real difference. In my head it wasn't a trad route anymore, but a highball boulder problem, with a crux at the start. In the end I got well established at the final moves but didn't have the minerals to actually make the final move. It was a little off balance and looking down the pads, which normally seem so big and awkward to carry, seems minuscule and unhelpful.


It's an interesting thing when you think about how you approach different routes. For me a trad route and a boulder problem are two different things, within the world of climbing. I would never spend ages working a trad route, either on top-rope or pre-practising different sections till I'd got it nailed. This could stem from a number of things; like it juts being more awkward to work a route (either on top-rope with a partner or shunting it on your own, and I don't own a shunt), or that for me it crosses a line and then takes away from the experience of onsighting. The interesting thing is, is that if I've failed on a route I'll then go through the effort of pulling the ropes and doing it ground up if I can. Why I do this, rather than just dogging on the lead and then carrying on (and in some situations I would do this, Gogarth, multipitching, if time didn't allow etc) is a bit of a mystery to me. 


Then again if it's a boulder problem it suddenly all seems fair game. I don't mind working it over and over if it's hard. I'll take a good look at all the hold and plan the moves out in my head, refining it after each attempt till I can actually do the problem. Suddenly the whole thing is less serious, idea's are thrown around between all the people there which makes paying attention when it's someone else's go (obviously you'll be wide awake spotting) all the more important, should they suddenly unlock the key to a route. There is less competition between each other. 


Treating Honcho as an extended boulder problem, rather than an E4 6b trad route was really fun. As wasn't much chance of me onsighting the route anyway and therefore applying a ground-up ethic to it and treating it as a problem to be solved worked. With the pads we could fall off and I could keep getting to my high point, and bottling out without the added pressure of "the onsight". I intend to go back and do this problem/route (whatever...). There is a peg onroute that's been cemented in, but someone has, and I'm in no doubt that they were being helpful, left a thin maillion attached to it. You can't get a 'biner through it but the maillion is rusty and old. I figure that it would be much better to do it with several pad beneath me anyway, it'll just be more fun that way. At the end fo the day that what it's about, having fun,  isn't it?


I did manage to scare myself on a couple of occasions though. One of soloing Viaduct Wall variation (E1 5c) which has an easy mantle that I very nearly completely messed up and The Arete (E3 5b), the only trad route I did that day. It was defiantly type 2 fun.

The Arete was pretty much the first clear line that I looked at the crag. It's one of the few routes that's actually been included in On Peak Rock, for this crag. I'd purposefully left it to the end of the end to have a go at a trad route here, simply because I wanted to get used to the rock. I'm glad I did because as I've already stated the rock differs and changes subtly along the cliff. I started off pretty well, considering it was also pretty easy to being with. This ease suddenly stopped with a short section of hard climbing to gain the good ledge to rest on at 9 metres. With no gear in I placed a small nut blind and then carried on up... before a rapid retreat. The nut looked fine, but I'd let it get to me and had my doubts. It was a good few minutes and more attempts later before I actually made the move and gained the ledge. I spent along time, hangin' around on the arete, backing up my single piece of gear with a cam (and inadvertently taking up my hand hold should I have needed to retreat). I think I've got to stop doing this and have more faith in my ability, rather than planning ahead for when I fall off.


Mantling onto the ledge was not done in style but it did lighten the mood between me and Toaf which had come pretty tense. I sat on the ledge and noticed for the first time that it overhung by about a metre, so I stayed there for a while to relax. Before long I'd clipped the old pegs and had to carry on. At least on this route I didn't have to worry about hanging around to place gear as there really wasn't that much of it. The gear that was there was spaced, to say the least. I just had to make sure that I go to it before I pumped out.


The ledge that had provided a nice rest showed it's true colours as soon as I left it. It stuck out enough from the face that I'd have probably hit it on the way down, if I slipped off. With this is mind it took me a good few attempts to actually get off the ledge and commit to the next set of moves. I'm not going to lie but it took a while to get moving again, and I felt physically sick with fear (this included retching) which is was a completely new experience for me. I found myself clipping the two pegs (also the last gear on route) before struggling to find a rest and fighting the pump that was building in my arms. In a slightly detached part of my mind a idea sparked up that I should probably train on more pumpy routes, so I can deal with it better out on the lead. 


My screaming arms and sweating with fear I grabbed the loose looking blocks at the top of the route. As I clambered over the top, my "trees don't count as handholds" rule went straight out the window and I grabbed for the routes and clipped the piece of tat above me. I was ok, I was safe and I'd not fallen off. Toaf joined me on the lead with the small amount of gear for the route. I watched him fighting with the same pump as I had while he stubbornly hung around trying to remove my gear. I told him to leave it as we have to abseil the line anyway, but he wasn't having any of it. Being the best second in the world in a sense of pride for him.


And thus ended our journey up and along the walls of New Mills Torrs. I've not doubt I'll be back, and having seen the state of the weather over the coming weekend I can virtually guarantee it. Exploring new crags really is worth it.


[I'll be adding some more photos, when I can get them of my friends camera]

just some more amazing fimography

Yosemite Range of Light from Shawn Reeder on Vimeo.

and here is a link to his flickr account, for some incredible photography to go with it.

Wales and new routing again!

I know I should have updated this earlier but I've not. I've been having tourble actually getting things written down recently and on top of this my laptop has decided that the fan wanted to stop working and therefore it's been overheating an dying on me. As you can imagine I've not been too pleased.

But there is good news. I've finally managed a draft of the miniguide I've been toiling away at. At the moment it's full of spelling errors and formatting problems but that doesn't matter because at least the information in down on paper and in a reasonably concise format! All that needs to be done now on the guide is some tarting up and moving of things around... and completing the routes we've got left to climb!

On the mention of new routing I've been away again to Wales, on a couple of occasions actually. Working in a school means that I get long breaks which I take advantage of to go climbing in. This was no different. The first weekend saw me bouldering at Churnet with Rachel and exploring some of the buttresses that we've not visited before. I can now say I have a project (the 7a and 6b for that matter traverses) at Ousal Dale. It's nice to think I've got something to go back and complete, or at least try to complete. It is starting to worry me how much I'm into my bouldering at the moment.

Then Rachel went away for a weeks residential, with my car. The plan was as she was already half way to wales she would then meet me there at the weekend. The weekend was the annual easter trip to tremadog, which is something I enjoy because I get to see a lot of my friends. However my lift was in stoke, so all my kit went into my 120 litre haul sack and I plodded across B'ham town centre in the rain to the train station. I got more than a few funny looks along the way, but in thier defence I did look like a big walling himalayan climber... who was lost in a big city. One person did stop to ask if I was carrying an inflatable dingy though. Thankfully my time as a scumbag climbing bum (sat in the vestibule of the train, trying not to get in anyones way and failing) was reasonably short lived and I soon found myself at the house of my friend Edd, enjoying a brew.

The plan was to bivi out (because it's cheap) under the Cromlech boulders. This is always a good laugh because whenever I've done it I've been with someone who hasn't bivied before. This time it was Scotts turn to be a bivi virgin. Considering that we're virtually car camping and are only using the rock because we're too lazy to put up tents I don't think that it should be too bad an experience. Nature it seemed had decided to make life a little more interesting for us though... it dropped the temperature. The picture on the left is of Dinas Cromlech, taken on a 15 exposure (I can't take it for any longer sadly). It wasn't exaclty artic conditions in the pass that night but there was snow down to Dinas Mot and the wing was blowing up. We even too the time to rebuild and repair the wall. In the end it was a pretty magical night, not sleeping under a rock with four guys but the moon was full so from my sleeping bag I could see the mountains and snow all night. 

A cold clear night can only mean one thing, a cold morning! The early start we had planned wasn't exactly early, but then again it never is but several cups of coffee later and a short car journey later we were setting up the tents at Eric's Cafe and enjoying the sunshine. Seeing as I was currently living in a bivi bag I had little to do other than piled my kit where my tent would be when it arrived and gear up for a days climbing. Me and Tim teamed up together and started off with Merlin Direct. Tim led pitch 1 and I took pitch 2. There not much to say other than it really is an excellent route. On the descent (down Belshazzar Gully) I noticed oxover buttress for the first time. This is where returned and managed to do Bloodsucker (E2 5c), Oakover (VS 4c) In one pitch and Heartlines (E2 5c). Considering I must have bypassed this buttress so often I can't believe how go it was. It just goes to show that Tremadog is full of surprises. Then Colin and Toaf arrived and I managed to get another route in with the two of them and we ticked off One Step in the Clouds (VS 4c). So not a bad day at all.

My second day saw a trip into Tremadog to get some wool with Rachel before me and Toaf did Legslip (E1 5b) in one pitch and narrowly managing to avoid the rain. Before the day was up but this time getting caught out in the rain I did Valerie's Rib (HS 4b) with Matt Snell before spending the evening hiding under a tarp rigged between 3 cars and several large sticks. 

The final day was spent travelling home as lack of sleep and cold nights had taken their toll on me. This did however give Rachel & I chance to drop in at the Osprey thing, thats near tremadog. Apparently the same mating pair have been coming back for nine years and thier siblings have been found returning to the area as well. They hunt all up and down the coast too so I'll be keeping a look out when I'm climbing on the Lleyn in future!

Then it was back home for a day to dry off, clean all the kit and head back out to wales with Soames for another bout of new routing. After seeing the weather report I was a little sceptical that we'd get any climbing done but Soames has learnt how to use a computer and more importantly apply 10 years worth of local weather knowledge (for living in wales) to the met office's marine weather website. I was assured that we'd get good weather, at least for some of the trip which was good enough for me!

The drive over was reasonably relaxed. We spent a lot of it exploring unclimbed rock across england and wales on the journey there. We spent along while trampling through the woods outside Betws-y-Coed finding the tubes, so I'd know where they were for some summer fun later in the year (and with the way things are going drought wise, it looks like the tubes'll make for good sport), before descending on Anglesey. With the tent's erected before we set off for the crag and my new found love of all things tarp like we nipped down to the cliff.

I say nipped and what I mean is is that we sat in the car while it blew a small gale and rained for 25 minutes. A break in the weather meant that would could make it to the crag, if only to get some more pictures and scout out more opportunities. What we found when we got there was a low tide and dry rock so we geared up and put up a couple of routes before it got too dark. I took some parallel cracklines in the main wall that we've been looking at since we got there and it produced a HVS 5a called For the girl who makes hats. Soames then put up Rhino (VS 4c) before we went back for some food. 

The next day was really productive. We didn't have an early start but that didn't matter. We got loads of routes on Submarine Walls done and I managed a few good photos for the topos. It's quite hard to explain what we did and where without giving away where an flippin' crag is so instead I'll leave you with some pictures:

(Me seconding Seraphim)

(believe it or not but it's only HVD, treasure island)

(Me leading the cormorant)

(A rare abseil inspection confirms my suspicions of bad rock)

(possibly the most exciting lead all weekend and a great line by Soames)

(This probably doesn't do justice to the position I'm in)

 

And thats all for now. I'll find somewhat to display the guidebook pages, once someone has corrected my spelling!