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Pump up the Pennells
13 April 2010, 8:51 am

I honestly thought that perhaps the lime season was near last wednesday. A whole team (sam, harry, dom, dylan and myself) went to the tor in the evening - and it was good. Powerband offered dry slots, but pooling footholds, even Stamina band had dry undercuts - got quite excited. A fair wind whistled down the right hand side and conditions there were primo. Less so in the middle where the scoop of the crag insulates from the wind. Dylog and i failed on Chimes. Man of the match goes without doubt to the mighty Harry Pennells, who after at least six ridiculously controlled (you could say overpowered) redpoints finally managed to close his account on Pump up the Power. He looked delighted, and rightly so - its a fine tick to have, brutal and quintessentially Tor.

Things went so well on Wednesday, that when Saturday came and it was too hot for brown rocks, the Tor beckoned once more. Only this time it was log. There was absolutely no wind and lethargy was the order of the day. Plus, the slots on powerband were now slimy. At least once I shot off horizontally. That and the humidity meant skin got nailed fast and basically couldnt be bothered. A the wrong time of day, and B poor conditions.

In the evening we went to Ed and Colette's for dinner. They've moved back to Sheffield at long last, and this was our first look at the new gaff. Its well nice! Recently we'd been looking at Saddleworth (as in, for a move) and I think we had taken for granted all that Sheffield offers. So we dont think we do want to leave after all now. I mean, you get a lot more for your money over there but you also loose out on the ability to be able to do all sorts of things we enjoy. So for now at least, we are staying. Anyway, after a lovely evening, we head home to find our outhouse door wide open and the bikes missing. Scars on the door suggest the padlock smashed off. I phone it in to the police and expect nothing back. In the morning I got proved wrong as they found my bike in a garden on Endcliffe Vale road - which is amazing. Intact too, and beside it - a pair of bolt cutters. So, whether the burgulators thought they had been rumbled and got rid of incriminating evidence or something I dont know, but we are back up 50% on bikes. Still, you wouldnt have thought that our road would be a target. Especially not our house, as its right at the bottom of the road, and you'd have to walk past a lot of other houses to get to it. Part of which makes me think that perhaps we were targetted?...

Although conditions looked much more favourable yesterday, Mondays is all about training. I am not allowing myself out on Mondays - no matter how good it is. Noone ever got strong mincing around on the grit. Last night I did a bit with weights on (on the board) and did some going in circles. It felt good. I am convinced that this strategy will yield results. I am allowed out on Wednesdays however, but this is the source of dilemma. There are many options, but anything involving flex is out due to volume of work. In other words, I will be working until at least 1500. I need to decide what I am going to do, as I could be starting the day in Leeds. The thoughts and factors are thus : there are people going to Malham. Then on the radio this morning they said it was going to go cold = Zoo York, but I have a split fingertip. Ned wants to go to Candy Buttress. Foley doesnt know what he wants. Dylog is keen but has cat Aids. The only thing I definately cant do is meet Jim in the cave. But he is going.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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West Side Video
14 April 2010, 12:22 pm

here's the west side log video. Just to reiterate, I did it twice, the only time we filmed it I didnt go to the top and this is that time. So sue me! I then did it again and went to the top. Its really easy. Come with me, I'd be glad to show off/you how to do it.

from dobbin on Vimeo.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Ben's Thrape
16 April 2010, 7:45 am

"We should really have gone to Malham" I thought as I drove towards Caley. But as the afternoon's meeting wore on, my early dart drifted out the window. Foley is corruptible I thought as I sewed the seed of Caley in the concealed text message sent from beneath the desk, and sure enough, the plan changed. By the time I skidded to a halt in the layby besides the 'road of death' I was frothing with excitement. Changed, threw heap of stuff inside a pad and scuttled up to fingerknacker crack. Greasy. Rabbits Paw Wall, Otley Wall, New Jerusalem, Manson's Wall - it all went in to the warm up circuit at a suprisingly quiet crag. Then the main event. Zoo Log. Only somehow I didnt feel ready, and besides, I have wanted to try Ben's Groove with a spotter for ages - still too scary, still couldnt move my foot at the top, still bottled out.

Folog wanted to go on the Secret Seventh. I had only done it the once, but love showing off and felt I could do it again, so under the guise of showing him the way, got stuck in. 15,000 goes later I found myself swimming through green bulges to get on top. You know that feeling when you have done the crux but the top isnt quite as easy as you remembered but you're committed and you have to push on? tick.

So now at last Zoo York. I think I must've taken the edge off with my minimum rest, hundreds of goes, trying really hard strategy on SS. I didnt feel sparky. Did it from stand again. Next link I wanted was to do it from the 2p edge and the undercut. Never failed on the undercut move, but holding the cut loose and getting your heel back on is going to be the redpoint crux. Feel wildly out of control and like superhuman tenacity is required (note to self, need to siphon Paul Reeve's blood). Oli Wright (old skool hero) turns up and sets about claiming not to know how to do Ben's Groove. There are two other lads beneath it now, only they have brought dust sheets with them rather than pads so when Oli throws his on the pile I see my chance and scuttle over to join them. The boulder of death beneath it now suitably subdued, I can try with impunity. Oli does it easily, but looks gripped on top. Often when I see someone else get gripped it sort of makes me feel better as I realise I'm perhaps not such a shithouse and that its ok to be scared. Anyway, I thrutch and hump and find myself mantling to glory too. Huzzah! have actually done something! Nothing better than unexpected-late-season-after-work-ticking.

Folog is trying BlockBuster. Various discussions on the motion in the ocean and the state of the bulb ensue, but none of them yield success. I keep nearly doing it (channel surfer) then with a 'sickening thrape' (foley) off the crimp I skin my knuckles. Blood gushes forth. We pack up and wander down to the crystal method. Its now after 8 and dusky. As when I went with Ned I have no concept of how I did this. Being told how to do stuff is like driving with Sat Nav, you pay no attention to what you did, just follow instructions. By the time we leave skin is well and truly flayed and I am beaten. Its 2045 and not completely dark. Hot foot it to the car, to a chippy in horsforth and manage to make it back to sheffield (including chip stop) in an hour.

Last night I got a text from Folog saying that Paul Reeve had added his name to the list of Unjustified ascentionists. He must be so pleased - I dont think he has climbed 8c yet, although not without trying! Good effort.

I knew Edlog was going to go on West Side story last night, and as you can see it without getting out of the car, so like an old couple who take their honda out to the countryside to sit in it and read the paper, she and creepily watched him through binoculars from across the valley. Jim and Jonboy were also out trying Western Eyes. Jon did it, Jim raced around trying everything, Edlog persists with his wack foot sequence and gets to the top every time but never to the jug.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Rebel Alliance
19 April 2010, 9:16 am

One of the best things about Sheffield is that its not that big. From where we live you can both walk to the Peak district or to town. In what other city can you boast such a thing? Friday night we walked down ecclesall road and all the way to the Sheffield Tap, which is a pub at the station. Far from the usual fayre of station pubs, this one is good. Thornbridge brewery, lots of choice, original victorian tiling. Recommended. Collected our mate and got a cab home. Walking dead - straight to sleep.

Saturday was a beautiful day. Ed had sacked off Caley in favour of Burbage as it was going to be boiling. Our mate got back on the train and went to watch the Manchester derby, whilst she and i had a look at the Volkswagen dealership up at Norton. Cars are expensive (for her not me). Went to car people showroom and looked at a Mini Cooper S works. I think she should buy one, but its ridiculous really and not a wise choice. They had a Clio sport trophy too. Suprisingly nice looking car, but being a renault would probably set on fire and/or explode after a year.

It was a big birthday for another non climbing friend that evening, so we were expecting to be playing host to others through the day. The one who has started climbing called - 10 minutes away from the station, and talking about going to the climbing works. Much as I love the place, there was no way I could be accomplice to such behaviour on a day like this, so I collected him and off we toddled to Burbage to catch up with Ed, who, by now was crawling back down the path Joe Simpson stylee, having fallen off parthian shot. At least, I think thats what he said. It might have been a 3b nearby and he wasnt crawling.

There was a fair breeze, and the south edge was probably as good a choice as we could have made. Showed lee 7-ball, then we moved up to the alliance. Which looks scary and high. Some randoms are attempting a rippled wall just below, and having not seen it before we join them. Its in the sun and tearing chunks out of me. However, i will not be defeated and manage to find a Sharma esque sequence which involves jumping past the slopers. With that in the bag I take my leave and go to look at the alliance. Decide the best strategy is to pad the gully and stand lee on the boulder to push me into the pit. Pull on. Rumble to the top not having worked out where the holds are, its allright this I think, but havent looked at the top and have no plan, scuttle down a move or two and step off. This time I go round the top and have a feel of the holds and a look at the position. All the holds are pretty good, and whilst you really shouldnt contemplate falling from there, I cant imagine letting go of those jugs unless something goes badly wrong. I have decided to commit. 100% effort, climb fast, fluid - no time to think. It goes well, feels easy, boule the top of the boulder and reach back to the edges to haul myself over. Theres only been a second of 'whoa' in the whole ascent. Mantle to glory, take my shoes off, pack up and walk back to the car. Suspect this may be the end of days for the grit season.

In the evening we went to town for a meal. It was a bit log to be honest - popolo in leopold square. Home at about 0130. Bed by 0400. knackered yesterday. Went to Sharrowvale market to consume pattys of dead animal. Did help, but only for a while. Bumped into lots of people which was nice. Then we saw this lobster clawed fiend hobbling through the throng - it was Ed, up from his sick bed and walking unencumbered. Very interesting - thought i had stumbled across a subterfuge, a secret training excuse or something, but I think it just wasnt as bad as first reported. Foley went to Malham and got pumped. We agree that routes of more than 5 bolts long require you to be thin and serious.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Tribal cuts
22 April 2010, 7:56 am

Not a cloud in the sky all day yesterday, and this morning another beautiful sunrise. In some respects, being too busy to flex the afternoon off is not such a problem at the moment - its light later, and baking in the sun so theres no point racing off at lunchtime anyway. Conditions are strange here at the moment. It should be mint, the air is cold, really cold, but when its still and the sun is out its h.o.t.

I'd had grand plans. The attendees list pulsated as Monday became tuesday became Wednesday. Folog had to work, Dylog too (for once) which left me and a not climbing Ned. Then at the eleventh hour Katpee Whittaker joined the party and Rubicon was our destination. With retrospect my alternatives of Cheedale 2tier or WCJ Cornice would have been wise from a conditions perspective, but I'd been reminded about Beluga, and wanted to try that and Let the Tribe Increase.

The lake was low, the ground totally dry and you could even walk to the base of the jug pillar without getting covered. As it was rather warm footholds were not weight bearing, and the 3b traverse felt like it was coming from the arms. I got pumped. Felt like the blood in my forearms wasnt moving, like i'd been inflated, the skin taut to the touch like a sausage left in the sun to putrefy. This doesnt bode well i thought. After attempting to let it subside and making more than a token effort to warm up we decided that a perfect introduction to the summer of roped climbing would be with an ascent of the route Rubicon. Off I set, quickdraws dangling from my harness, rope limply swishing between my knees. I tottered up the jugs to the break. You'd be doing well to fall off here, but the creaking snappy jugs and slimy pockets aren't a great confidence booster. I think I was overgripping everything because i had the fear. Fumble placed the first drawer, clipped it, felt a bit calmer (or so I told myself) rumbled up to the next jug, made the next clip, and the next one. Now the 'crux'. Climbed past it, looked at the jugs, climbed back down again. Got a bit pumped - wimped out. Disappointed with myself I shouted 'take' to Ned. The admission of failure. Not a good start to the season of routes. Katy cruised up, as did Ned, me again. Fully piss. Its about 3c. Realise that A - not fit, B - have irrational fear of falling off. Its not the height, its of falling off above the bolt. Whilst I need to work on this, I dont need Paul B aversion therapy (big lobs!), or else I will become a boulderiser year round.

With that done, its up to the business end for er... business. The wall has now come into shade and it feels cold. The rock has other ideas and is doing its best to radiate the days heat back out again. Rat crimps feel bad. I go on Tribes, Katy goes on Caviar. First go feels horrendous, I am crimping like my life depends on it and my finger split massively reopens and starts gushing blood. Although not injured I basically cant bone with it which puts Tribes in the impossible list. Work out a sequence and thats pretty much it. Actually, on subsequent goes i get better and better and remember my feet and how to use them. It looks feasible but not today.

Meanwhile Katy Jane throws shapes on the Caviar headwall. With some innovative moves bordering on madness, and that I have never before seen to pass those festering little finger biters she makes progress but doesnt seal the deal. None of which stems the tide of beta I throw in her direction, forgetting that she'll find her own path without my almost certainly incorrect advice. I remember how to do the start and again try to pass this on, but I think she might be taller and it doesnt work. By the time we leave its dark, and despite not really doing anything, I am tired.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Logridge
27 April 2010, 7:10 am

Logridge, Longridge. noun. Quarried gritstone edge at Jeffrey Hill, Longridge, Lancashire. Gently overhanging, 150m long, up to 10m high (but only in the shit bit). Bordered by strange soulless houses. Endless scope for traversing, up problems either easy or very hard but also filthy.

Friday was a wierd night. We went to the pub - saw Rob Barker and Nic Kidd and Piff, chatted for a bit, nice to catch up, then they went and we were just sat quietly when we got accosted by an ex Neighbour and queen of the tittle tattle on our street. I love our road, its dead nice, but because its a cul de sac and near a school, its very popular with young families and all the mums gossip. We live in a little bubble at the bottom and have no interest in taking part so we know nothing. This woman is queen bitch, but also queen gossip. Although she split up with hubby and moved out over a year ago, she knows all about the tittle tattle that we have no interest in and dont care about. For instance, the man opposite hung himself, and his next door neighbour is a lesbanian. I dont suppose the two are related. Where is this going? just to tell you that we got stuck with her for a bit and wanted to go home. Jesus. That was a tortuous link. I suppose I also meant to say that it was our time to have 'that' discussion. You know the one, where she says I am obsessing about climbing and that I never want us to do anything nice. All week I have been asking what we were doing at the weekend, and she's not been sure, so i havent made any plans. Folog is going to Kilnsey. Dylog and I had fallen out, and Edlog is entertaining (by the way, on Edlog entertaining - he is very charming! on his best behaviour when we went for dinner - taking coats and being the host with the mostest - bless!).

Its getting too hot to pull on slopers. It wont be long before the brown rocks are a distant memory and JB snores quietly from his cardboard box in the airing cupboard. We ended up going over to the outlaws as it was her Grandad's birthday. I took my leave and scuttled off. The idea'd come to me like a divine vision - longridge! too hot for grit, too far for lime. Good motorway links to Longridge, so although its far, its quite quick.

If I lived local I would be all over the place. When I arrived I was well excited. It looked brilliant. Since I last went they've built these horrible houses behind the crag, and I cant imagine climbers are popular with the residents - the back windows of the houses look right at the crag - its 8 metres away (or thereabouts). The ground has been built up by the BMC, but its still lower than when I used to go as a nipper. When I got there I thought 'this is amazing'. And as Dylog and I had made up by now I texted him to say we should go there, and he replied that it wouldnt be long before I was reduced to shuffling sideways for entertainment. The thing is that the up problems are either dead hard and filthy, or dead easy and done really quickly. It also feels pretty high. I was on my own at the crag, and although I have two pads, they looked very small from the top of the crag. I wouldnt drive over especially, but if i was local I would be there all the time.

This weeks Wednesday afternoon club is cancelled because I have to go to London. Blummin London. However, I havent got to get the train until 1127, so it occurred to me that I could go out early. My plan is to get up and get out with her at 0630. I am torn between logrider and the tor..... I could be at logrider for 0700, try it for a couple of hours and still be home at 0930 to get the train....

Source: The Blog of Dob

[robertostallioni]

However, I havent got to get the train until 1127, so it occurred to me that I could go out early. My plan is to get up and get out with her at 0630. I am torn between logrider and the tor..... I could be at logrider for 0700, try it for a couple of hours and still be home at 0930 to get the train....

and she says you're obsessing.   

Asking what they want to do at weekends doesn't work. Its not enough..You have to pro-actively punch yourself in the nuts and suggest a non-climbing weekend activity, right off your own bat, as though you actually just thought of doing it. Impulsive like. They love that shit.

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Thought
29 April 2010, 9:16 pm

Bouldering. Is it too hardcore for mainstream recognition? I'm reading the ron book at the moment, and it strikes me as the thing which gets you widespread recognition isn't the hardest moves you can do but routes. Punters don't get boulders, they think that its about going up high. How often have you been asked 'how high have you been then?'. They don't ask what's the smallest hold you've pulled on, or the hardest move you've done is.

Anyway, that's not the point, the point is that bouldering is too specialist for widespread recognition. If you want to be a big name, you have to do hard routes.

The thing with bouldering is that its the distillation of the essence of climbing. None of the faff of ground up or of grabbing the belay, pre clipped bolts, top rope practice etc, its you either climbed the line or you didn't.

The thing with routes is that hard ones are enchainments of boulder problems separated by plodding. So the extrapolation of the bouldering = doing hard moves is that being able to do hard moves after some rumbling is harder than bouldering. I suppose the argument ben moon once made which is that one day somewhere, someone will be doing a sequence of moves where its just too hard to take a hand off to clip. And then what's the difference? Who cares how you do it? Surely its about the climbing rather than the logistics of protection?

In fact, when you think about it, the higher you go, the more recognition you earn - right the way up to mountaineers at the top of the scale. If its kudos you want, bouldering is not where its at.

I might get to do some routes this weekend. To be honest I'm a bit scared. But what better therapy than a bit of aversion?

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Broken Rock Solution
6 May 2010, 9:10 am

The rest of the world has been on Ondra watch - chasing up to Malham and Kilnsey to see Captain Beakface rinsing some of our hardest routes, and whilst no doubt impressive, I dont like busy crags at the best of times, and being unnaturally scared of climbing above a bolt - the combination of being a shithouse, and being publically exposed for being one didnt appeal. Plans were fluid up until the morning of Saturday. It all depended on the monster, and whether or not she was going to Manchester. If she went then I was taking her, and to then drive back up to Yorkshire made for a long day. I could have shared with Folog but that would have constrained him to my plans, and blah blah blah - boring. So, I went to the cave. Doyle and I had been on the text, and I knew he would be there plus it was a beautiful day with high promise of not only being able to climb, but with accounts to close down the planets were in alignment, the signs were good and all systems were go. Actually, briefly - I've missed a bit. Friday we had off - had a lovely day, went to see Ironman 2. Its ok - it is what it is, quite puerile but fun. Anyway....

Its all about irons in fires. I have had Trigger Cut, and Broken Heart on my list, but this time I went straight to Broken Heart. Although only short, Trigger cut takes the edge off, and I always do this, and I never go home with any ticks. So, straight to Broken Heart. Warm ups went well, reference problems (danger!) completed comfortably, then on to the Broken Heart. First go is a slip off, second I make a mistake, then on the third go things hook up well. The foot placements feel a bit more concise, the moves feel hard but are executed with a little in the tank - you know when the signs are good, and all you can do is try not to listen to the voices going 'this is the one! you did that move well, this could be it' and then when you get past the hard bit and find yourself shaking out on the 'easy but droppable' bit then the voice changes to be saying 'dont fluff it now, you know you did before...' and again, the voice gets a pillow on its face, and you push on. I felt more tired as I did the final moves than i have before, I felt wild, like I wasnt climbing well but somehow fought on regardless and then bosh! i was on the jug, swinging around at the top having finished the problem. The crowd didnt go wild, there was no roar of satisfaction but finally it was done. A warm glow of success spread slowly through my limbs in the minutes afterwards. Brilliant.

I realised that it was quite early on in the session and that I should try to finish Rock Attrocity. This is another problem that suffers from being not at the top of my list - that and my not fitting the final moves. I remember flashing to the jug pocket right at the end but never having finished the deal, and this is a situation which has continued ever since. Pretty much I put this down to having always tried it after stuff again - and being too stupid to see the wisdom in working the end in isolation. So, I got on with that on saturday. But I didnt do it. Rab Carrington (legend) turned up and we discussed the post climatic stress disorder condition that exists in climbers throughout the world. You do something you wanted to do and may as well write off the rest of the session. Thats not what I did, but nothing else went down. Well, nothing hard.

The Cave went from being pleasant to being busy. This goon I met at queens with Constance turned up, and to make it worse, he is now strong. Goons who are shit I can just about bear, but goons who burn me off I cannot be coping with. I dont know if he didnt recognise me but I managed to avoid engagement. Doyle, Matt and I go to the box. Such a lovely aspect. By contrast with the cave its quite tranquil. I do a problem called Jack the drunk. (i think)

Went out for dinner that evening, had a lovely time - felt shonky in the morning. Sunday we were shambolic all day. Monday we scrubbed the house (amazing how dirty it gets so quickly).

Yesterday I managed to corral a team into returning to the cave, in spite of the current fascination with Yorkshire limestone. Dylog and Dan Constant Variable were my in car entertainment, and a cerebral conversation about sustainability and the environment provided the distraction from the delights of the a55 on the way in (and back). The Peak looked gloomy but ok, but from Chester west the weather deteriorated. I spoke to Doyle - he couldnt even see the Orme from his house. We contemplated turning back but I was talked out of it. My flexed afternoon off suddenly seemed like folly. I hate wasting time. Thoughts of a dry tor receding into the distance behind me played in my thoughts but continue we did. It was condensing when we arrived, but with lots of thwacking and towelling some holds came not into condition,but started to feel ok. Rock attrocity felt terrifying - like lurching around in a roof on slimy wetness. But, things got better with traffic, and for a while the sea fog lifted. I had tape on my left index, which felt extra slippy. The game I played was whether to redpoint without it and risk a split or whether to push on with and have the problem feel hard.

Dan pretty much flashes Lou Ferrino - campusing through the end of the rail. Impressive stuff, but at least he had the decency to grunt and puff. I remove the tape as the now temporarily satiated Variable fluffs the holds on logattrocity (the hardest 7c in the world). I've suprised myself by how easy the start moves feel - it used to feel so tweaky, but those drilled pockets are pretty good really. I rumble through to the flakey thing and set up for the move to the pinch. The holds have been held perfectly, they feel ok, I dont think I've got much left, but as I take the pinch and slap my heel round the ramp I dont feel ruined either. I find this last bit so hard. Sink onto the foot hold and take my left hand off, lurching wildly I grab the damp pinch beneath the finishing hold and quickly, as rehearsed slap again and hold the hold. All that remains is to cam a heel in against the ramp and match. Feels so awkward but I make it work and step off having ended an old nemesis. Feel that this one is one I should really have done before.

Dylog makes progress on Lou Ferrino. He looks to be so cash but then something slips and he's off. Which is pretty much how his day continues. He must climb through the ramp section 5 or 6 times (perhaps more) always looking like its on, but then something slips off and he never seals the deal. That said, it should be a formality the next time. Dan and I have turned our attention to Trigger Cut. He wants to do it with the knee bar, with a view to halfway and ultimately directors cut. He has an ingenious canibalised old anasazi strapped to the knee and manages to make it work. I make progress on TC and am back to the shothole but no further. Dan however does Trigger, then halfway, then starts trying from moves back. His best attempts see him from climbing from halfway down the louie ramp to the end of trigger cut. It basically looks like he could do directors. I'd meant to try the wire (lou ferrino into broken heart) but end up on louie. Manage to do it again with a slightly dubious finishing match - i.e. I slump off it as I match. We go to the chippy and drive home in mega time.

Lessons learnt - never give up, fight to the death and ignore the signs. This is what Sharples calls 'Tenacity'. Examples - me thinking i wasnt going to do any problems and actually doing two. Constant Variable keeping going with man grunts when he looked like he was off, and Doyle - shaking like a shitting dog but still doing trigger cut. Dragons are a superior shoe to Solutions. The lack of midsole in the solution makes them a bit too flexi. I find a more supportive shoe an advantage - especially on Trigger cut. On Louie, where flexibility is an advantage, then the solutions felt great again. Ok, so not necessarily superior, but the solution isnt the everything to all men i supposed it might be.

Better go and do some work...

Source: The Blog of Dob

[Jim]

'dont fluff it now, you know you did before...' and again, the voice gets a pillow on its face, and you push on

Dynamite!

[a dense loner]

what! u read the inane ramblings of peoples blogs jim?

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Fingina
11 May 2010, 8:20 am

I wonder how easy it is to get into crown green bowling? Any ability I ever had for Rock Climbing has been absent of late. In fairness to me, I havent actually been doing so badly, its just my terrible skin stopping me doing as well as I want. I said to Ned the other day 'oooooh soldier, theres just nothing worse than skinjuries' and of course he set me right - of course there is. Almost everything is worse than a skinjury, so stop whinging. Its just frustrating when you want to do hard things and keep slipping off or being unable to engage full crimp due to pad splits. And its all Dave Mason's fault.

I wonder if I can sue him for bad advice? negligence? "Anti Hydral that split" he said, "get right in there with the stump creme, then sand it in the morning". My instincts said no, and this contradicted every bit of advice I have ever heard regarding the magical stumpenhausen, but I thought no - I will give him the benefit of the doubt and try this advice out. And what has it lead to? the deepest, longest lasting, most reoccurring split I have ever had! in fact, to call it a split doesnt do it justice - more like a finger canyon. Perhaps this is revenge for my dubbing him Dave the Racist (which was actually Dylan by the way).

Met up with Folog at the Tor on Saturday - we were shit. I couldnt even do the powerband. Shed loads of people turned up, including, but not limited to : MC Hammer JNR, Ru and Stu, Masonic Dave, Stone (!), Simon Lee, Tall man from the Foundry and Emma Twyford. Down our end there was nothing but flailing going on. Shook through staminaband start like a nervous comedian on the stage for the first time with the words of the guardian of the Orme in my mind - "the cave is only really any good for the cave". It felt like the first time I had been to the tor in months. What we can learn from this children, is that singleminded focus and dedication towards any one end leads to specialism in that specific goal. But to do these hard things you have either to be talented and strong or dedicated and keen. So if you lack talent then you must be dedicated, and that leads to specialism. Is it such a bad thing? no, not necesarilly, not unless you desperately need to do well everywhere you go, and feel like the big hero all the time.

One man who finished the weekend a big hero is Steely fingered legal eagled downgrading midget Rupert Davies, who managed to climb Keen Roof at the tor. I couldnt believe reading Stu's blog that Ru hadnt climbed 8B before to be honest. I suppose he's more of a routes wad than a bouldering specialist, but to see how strong he is you would certainly have thought him a signed up member of the club from years ago. There are plenty of these about - people who have the ability but never seem to have made it happen. Lots of this will come from time limitations. And of conditions in this country, other commitments etc etc. Ed Robinson is another one. If he lived in america all we would hear about is this 8b and that 8b+ that had fallen to his mighty hand, only of course that would never happen because theres no public transport and he hasnt got a car. Poor ed.

I have managed to continue the deepening trough of specialism by arranging another mid week cave raid on wednesday. Constance Variable is keen again, and I am not suprised. He really looked like he could do directors cut last time, so with fresh beans etc etc. I am focussed on trigger cut, with my secondary goal being the wire. Its a bit longer without super hard moves, so a perfect after you've blown your wad on the Trigger goal. There is also the possibility that the weather will be nice and we could go to the mountains. However, its a bit further, and when I think the cave is on the limit of range for a midweek afternoon raid...

Finally, I leave you with the wishes of happy birthday to Nedwin, whose birthday it was yesterday, and who is now 32. They went for a carvery last night because their mate bet them he could eat a full carvery and 15 roast potatoes (ned was allowed to pick the potatoes), apparently he pissed it. Good effort!

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Cave life - its the only life I know...
13 May 2010, 7:23 am

Ow ow ow! The cave has taken its pound of flesh and spat me out - beaten. But i still love her. The problem with the damn place is that the moves are so good. There are shit problems in the cave (clever cleaver), but your big money lines are all good. Dan and I went back yesterday for a rematch. On paper it should have been a deal sealing mission, but in fact it was a channel surfing haven of failure.

Last time it was wet. Last time I fell off TC going for the shothole. Last time I did Rock Attrocity and three laps on Lou Ferrino. I thought I was the big man. Big things happen to big men, and I thought they were sure to happen to me the next time. Dan nearly did Directors. We talked about whether he would finish up the top like Pete Robins, but neither of us dead cert, sure fire winners were winners in the end. Trigger cut felt well hard. Never even held the undercut. I have skin problems, so perhaps I wasnt trying properly or something, but it just didnt feel on it yesterday. Conditions were good - no complaints about that, and so its doubly frustrating that we werent able to capitalise on them. Hoping it was perhaps a slow warm up day, we continued.

Dan couldnt do Directors either. He kept falling off in Trigger. The frustration was getting to us, so I thought, some success will buoy my spirits, and I set off on Louie. It felt desperate and spat me off before reaching the end of the ramp. I changed shoes and did it, but by god was it a fight. In some ways I wonder if that right foot heel needs to be a bit damp to be sticky or something. I rest up and start trying TC again. It goes nowhere.

I'd never met the mighty Nodder - hero of the cave before, and now I had. Nice man. I wanted something less intense than trigger to get into, and that came in the shape of Cave Life. Nodder showed me how to do it, and soon after I found myself climbing down into left wall having started at the RockAttrocity jug. I thought this was it - you got to stop there, and that was 7c. Jolly pleased with myself I stepped off to a chorus of dismay. Apparently you have to then do LWT. On went the stopwatch, and back to the start went I. Thankfully I managed to do it again, and this time continued to the end. Just the start to add in now. I worked and worked and by the time I forged a sequence I was too tired, but from the arbitrary start in the middle of nowhere I made it to the foot move to connect to LWT. This is possible I thought, but not last night it wasnt - I was whalloped, and the start hold had chewed a hole in my palm.

Meanwhile, at the business end of the cave Constant Variable was rinsing through Clyde getting to the end each time, but in spite of making man barks and snuffling noises he fell off on what I would call jugs. Which isnt to say that getting there wasnt hard - it certainly looked it, and I think the positions looked difficult to hold. Testament to the tenacity of Parry. Say what you want about an overdeveloped ego, but he's something of a cave wad. Some of the moves and things he has done in there...

Source: The Blog of Dob

[a dense loner]

hyperbole is fucking awesome absolutely amazing. re carvery: ben picked them not ned, me n dan ate as much if not more of main meal, it wasn't at all impressive

[Jim]

what! u read the inane ramblings of peoples blogs jim?

[a dense loner]

i was bored n wondered what u saw in it all. only the carvery interested me

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Ned's merry anus
17 May 2010, 7:12 am

I am well tired, and I havent been climbing at all this weekend. Been a few degrees warmer, but with a nice breeze, so I bet if you picked your spots there would have been places to go. Friday we had guests. The hope was to kick them out early and go out, which more or less happened, but I was tired and it would have been pointless (you dont sleep well when you have been drinking). So, we walked into town munching along the way. Pleasant. Home for a sleep mid afternoon, then up and ready for action...

Or not. We teetered between going and not going, and especially when Die Hard came on the telly - Ned's birthday party looked less and less likely. She suggested GIN. Gin seemed like a good idea. Not just one Gin, but three. GIN! Feeling supersonic by now we giggled our way down to Nedward's. There was a back garden barbecue scene. Wild man Paul B set himself on fire for our amusement, and Wild Country man James got to handle a ferret. The party migrated indoors and it felt the right time to begin learning the drums. Ned tried valiently, but a lifelong lack of coordination served me well and I couldnt master the simple pattern. Ed's wife Colette turned up - who is a professional music teacher. Even with the might of the Big C I got further but not very far.

Back in the main room, Ryan and Hank had arrived. Hank Pasquill - Legend! Everyone was pissed, and by now it was 2am. We went home to enjoy another lack lustre day yesterday. This week - tonight - training (its monday), then Wednesday tor. Foley wants to go on obscene toilet i think? and maybe rattle and hump. I dont mind - just want some mileage.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Tor-pedo
20 May 2010, 7:16 am

Sixteen degrees at half past six this morning. To be honest, it felt so humid that I didnt think the Tor would be up to much. Pulling on sharp tinies when your skin is saggy and the air thick with moisture is not a good combination. I arrived first (out of our team), jumped out of the car (this weeks CLR podcast is Adam Beyer, and very good, plus, like last week when there was a 9hr Speedy J set, you can have two hours and no Chris if you go to CLR, you do have to subscribe to a newsletter, but I suppose you could always cancel it) and felt COLD... Brilliant! My judgement wasnt far off though, it felt cold if you'd been sat still, but once you started moving shorts were required and the man boobs were out.

Jehovakill looks very dirty but almost totally dry. I mean to go and have a look at this, but question the safety of those nasty caving bolt things which are currently in place. Also, there dont actually look to be any holds! Well, I think I can see two from the ground, but not much between them. I put my rope on Boot Boys. First mistake. This is an Andy Pollitt route from the 80's which looks brilliant, but involves the ability to crimp on razor blades. And theres a move off a mono low down that I dont know how to do (I can only fit my pinky into it). After the mono theres a 6ft easy section to an undercut jug, then some scratching up the aforementioned death crimps. I can see where it goes but not really what to do, or how to do it. One to save for when its cold. Or at least colder.

Ed and I go on Rattle and Hump. At first it looks like he is going to static his way through it on the first burn of the day, and the first time he has tied in for ages, but he goes to the wrong hold and is back on the rope again. A good effort. I get excited for him then he reminds me he has actually done it before. I am less excited.

Foley and Rich are now in situ on a 7c which starts to the right of in brine but left of the toilet. It was really good. I shouldnt be so suprised. Folog managed to link it in a oner, but was on a top rope. I managed it in two halves. Good climbing. Had a quick look at the line to the right, which isnt the toilet? hot flushings? call of nature - that was it! again, feasible, but involves crimping razors, and my fingers were hurting. Apparently Emma Twyford has just done this - great effort!

So, that was that. Started to feel a bit more Tor fit again last night, as the last time I went it was pitiful and i couldnt do anything. Saturday looks doubtful. The parents are coming which is good from the point of view that I get taken for lunch, but bad from the having to be back in order to be taken for lunch. And anyway, its going to be 22 degrees apparently...

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Solar Sheffield
25 May 2010, 12:51 pm

Do you listen to the bodytonic podcast? might be becoming one of my new favourites. Avant Guarde? Listening to Luke Solomon at my desk at the moment. Its good desk music. Enough to block out the wittering of the office, but not so much that you cant concentrate or get so amped up you cant work.

Unless you live deep underground you will be aware its been like living in spain - i.e. hot (no chorizo in sight). We went to the Broomhill tavern on Friday. This is a shit pub, but for some reason I feel quite at home there. I think this is because I used to go years ago and it feels familiar. Anyway, we sit outside on the same table as a couple of randoms. Theres loads of us, then lady random stands up to leave and asks if we will look after her baby, before handing an aubergine over and walking off. Wierd. I wondered whether it would be socially acceptable to throw the baby across the road at her departing form. Decided not to find out.

Ned is now building me a wood shed as well as installing a worktop.

Should have been climbing on Saturday morning but overslept and besides it was a thousand degrees. The parents came and took us for lunch. Managed to persuade them to go to Spice Market Cafe (they always want to go to the Dore Moor inn for some reason), and it was lovely. Felt very like being on holiday in Sheffield over the weekend. Saturday night we sat in the back garden and drank GIN. Ahhh GIN. No points on weight watchers you know (as long as you drink slimline tonic). My new favourite thing.

Couldnt bear another day of slothing so convinced the monster into a bike ride when it had cooled down a bit (actually, minor irrelevant tangent - i have taken action to thwart the actions of burglars - i have fixed a massive motorbike floor anchor in the shed and chained the bikes to it), and we soon found ourselves pedalling gently up towards Helen's house in the Mayfield valley. I am so jealous. Its a lovely house. Anyway, she makes us GIN and we enjoy a bit of sun. Home, barbecue and thats it.

I did potter to the Climbing Works yesterday, but it was hotter than the sun. Realistically in this weather you need to be campussing and thats it. Its kinder on your skin. Did a bit of that, got a flapper from the comp wall and went home tail between legs. Its not just that its hot, its that its appeared so quickly - we are not used to it.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Dialectics
27 May 2010, 9:50 am

I have another massive grain split in the pad of my right hand index. Cheers skin. This time its not down to foolishly following the advice of a chiselled racist, rather the result of crimping a bit too fiercely at the tor. Things were amiss, the force was out of alignment. Although cool it was actually raining, but thats not what I mean when I say things were wrong in the world. What I mean is that Dylog arrived, put his harness on and DID sardine. Just did it. Putting the clips in - erm, error! Can I have my incompetent friend back please imposter who looks like dylog? perhaps the green tea and chives diet is finally paying off. So he does that, all casual and then does toadside - also on the lead and totally cool as a cucumber. Blummin incredible. Edlog arrives and we scuttle rightwards to shelter - its fully chucking it down.

Edlog does Rattle and Hump but seems to have moved the crux down a move to gaining the pinch. It doesnt stop him and he rattles to glory on his second go of the day. Holds are physically dry, and the bottom footholds are finally getting there, but theres moisture in the air and it doesnt feel good. I put a rope on dialectics. Rae steps in and stems the flow of incompetence with some well placed beta. She can mince the start - does it every go - incredible. I get spat out, slide off and find that 'easy' start bit well hard. I suppose it is the meat of the 8a route. Anyway, the upshot of this is that I have now done the first hard move, and by the time we left I could do it everytime, but it is a press both off, and too a crimp, so I suppose I should be able to do it. Thing is I am getting stuck on the foot move after that. Basically, if you can udge your left foot up onto the jug you've as good as done it. I did from there to the top and it was fine, so it boils down to one and a half moves. Hmm.

Interestingly, I have previously raved about the Sportiva PenguinFeet which I have been wearing of late, and I still think they are good, but they seem to have bagged out a lot and gone a bit shit. Which is frustrating for a million pound shoe. I also think they lack midsole stiffness and that when standing on tiny dinks they dont give you as much push - you cant nail them into stuff, but they are super sensitive and great for the wall (for instance). Oh, and they look like penguin feet.

It turns out that when I claimed to have been on Obscene Gesture last week that we were actually on Obscene Toilet. The boys went back on that, but I was totally convinced I could do Dialectics that I didnt join them. Ed took a fall, I got jealous - the way to combat the fear of falling is in falling. And although I had plenty of falls on Dialectics, Ed's was a proper leader fall. Anyway, tonight I am going to the cave - and I have got a massive split - the full width of a pad. Started off small, but spread under load. Low expectations, high hopes.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Human deformity studies
2 June 2010, 7:50 am

So firstly, congratulations to Dr Folog, who at long last has got a job. How the medical profession could let Britain's best bum doctor go unemployed from August could not go unchallenged for long. The Associated National Anus League recognised talent when it saw it and snapped him up as their new 'Deep Investigation' specialist. I know that Ned 'Wobble Buns' Freewilly is already booked in for 'special' treatment once James takes up his new role. I (and I'm sure you) wish him the very best of luck.

Secondly, and staying with the subject of human deformity - I was treated to an advanced lesson in climbing wall specific body dysmorphia last night at the Climbing Works. No, not Sam Whittaker and his coconut biceps (still rockin after 15 years), but that blossoming wall flower the 'Squiffster'. My goodness. Miraculously this walking lat muscle could spare the time to follow us along the comp wall, kindly demonstrating those moves we couldnt do. If my festival 'Squiffhanger' gets off the ground perhaps we can showcase his skills to an audience (armed with gatling guns), one lives in hope...

I went to the cave after we last spoke on Thursday. It was nearly completely pointless, as I was rubbish - but I did get to complete my wall of cave trophies and add the mighty Chris Davies to the list of notches on my cave heroes wall chart. What a nice man. I dont think I even managed a move on cave life. Everything hurt and I was incompetent. Not so Ed Hamer. After seemingly no warm up he pulls on the in hell start (this is the longer one right? get so confused), busts into cave life, scuttles across to left wall, but then does left wall high to finish - despite being super pumped and his elbows arcing out behind him like a giant blonde tarantula he makes it to the end - good effort! So what does that make? High in life? in high life or in life high? Cave life short is 7c - and that goes low, high is 7c as opposed to 7a+ for low, so cave life short high would be 8a at least? if its 7b+ from the arbitrary start to the rockattrocity jug, but then linked to cave life short is 8a that means 7b+ + 7c = 8a, so how hard are those first two moves? hard enough that if you do cave life from there you get 8a+ (i think), so what does this mean if you go high? 8b? Perhaps I should buy the guide and support the cave? does it even say? so many questions!

Source: The Blog of Dob

[hairich]

foley is employed! must have been the haircut

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Dobomix
4 June 2010, 7:45 am

Stop romanticising the demise of the technics. who wants to hear the mechanics of beatmixing anyway. Move the skill away from basic motor control and you get to concentrate on defining the sound.  

A few weeks ago I bought traktor and a 2 channel soundcard. On wednesday I put a mix together which you can listen to here :  

http://soundcloud.com/dobbin/dobomegamix

I've only half listened to it, but so far I would comment I've massively overused the effects. Particularly the flanger. But when you've never had such things in the past, and its the first time you've mixed in years (and you're a bit pissed) then this is what happens. Anyway, there for you if you fancy a listen.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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surfing incontinence
10 June 2010, 9:54 am

"Whats the impact of bringing these guys online so late in the day?" asked the project manager. I couldnt answer, I was staring at my phone on which the name 'Ed Brown' was flashing on the display. Ed Brown I thought... wonder what he's up to on such a clement day, and that was what he was phoning in search of - dry rocks. I was in our attic bedroom so had no idea, but that the houses 20 metres away were partly obscured by mist the signs werent good. I texted him, explaining my aspirations where down cheedale but that it seemed unlikely. Much later my text buzzed and he confirmed that the tor was 'gopping'. If the Tor was bad, surely there'd be no point in heading down Cheedale. Emailed my team and let them down, but it was too late for Folog who was 10 minutes from getting there. He phoned, cross to have wasted his time, but so near that it was worth continuing. Then he phoned again to say it was allright. It seemed like some sort of elaborate revenge hoax as the weather looked so bad, but I jumped in the car anyway and headed out.

The high moors were shrouded in mist, my cheap korean tyres scrabbled for grip on the sopping road surface as I torque steered my way through the peak, my car like a deranged pig engorged on steroids intent on mating with a lady pig in the shape of a dry stone wall (this was for Cofe who I bumped into and with whom I reminisced on the halcyon days of this blog). Folog's assertions the crag was fine seemed implausible at best. I expected to arrive at an empty crag and find myself at the butt of the butt doctors joke, but as I got closer conditions got better and the mist seemed less of a problem. Foley was there, and had just seen Al Austin who'd been on the top pitch of chimes. Basically the middle of the crag was allright. Not great, but allright. Things went black with use and it was far from ideal, but I was pleased to be out.

We got on Toilet Gesture. Dr Pinch made us a three which lengthened my rest time allowing us all to top it cleanly a couple of times each. This was a first for me. I think its a good route actually. The Climbing is entertaining and its a bit better bolted than Sardine - plus perhaps a bit more consistent. Anyway, I had wanted to catch up with Edlog, because I wanted to talk about surfing...

I was born in Devon, and through my youth we've always had relatives and links there, so I've always been aware of surf culture, and felt I would have liked to have been involved but for whatever reason never got beyond body boarding. That ended this weekend when we trotted off to the gower with a group of 19 others for the Honey monster's birthday weekend of camping. On the Friday we had tents to put up, and people were arriving through the afternoon. I had planned to get a surf lesson with the group as something fun to do, but then when one of the group turned up with a pair of boards strapped to the roof I saw my chance. Craig is a keen surfer with 14 years experience, and more importantly the patience and air of a great teacher. I coerced him into taking me out and had my first session on the beach beyond hill end campsite on the Gower.

It was brilliant. I could do it! I was overjoyed - and it was so easy! I couldnt understand how it had passed me by - here was something I had always wanted to do that I actually seemed to be good at and able to do. Craig was kind enough to butter me up with platitudes, telling me that I was a natural and that my progress was far in advance of most on their first time. I think I was lucky - it was small (3ft) and clean, plus I had a very buoyant 8ft hire board - I just found it easy to get stand up and even started making basic, slow turns towards the end of the session. I was well excited. I just wanted to go surfing! but it wasnt all about me, it was her birthday party and I had other duties. So, back to camp, barbecue, camp fire in the dunes, bed drunk.

When Saturday arrived I was champing at the bit to get back out there - to see if yesterdays success had been a fluke, or beginners luck. My first choice of outfit for the day was easy - it was rubber and had zips involved. Then i went surfing. Bigger this morning, and my empty stomach (before breakfast) objected to the churn of my attempts to get out the back. The problem with the buoyant board was that I couldnt duck beneath the swells, so getting out there was epic. When I eventually managed it I had expended all my energy doing so and sat, broken astride my board bobbing around. It was quiet - some good sets started to roll in and with childish enthusiasm I got on it. I could still do it! i'd worked out by now when to get off as well. Caught a handful of good waves, then went in for breakfast happy but a bit sea sick. We ate, hung out a bit and then went back in the afternoon. This time with the group. It had gotten choppy since the morning and was really hard work.

Helen and Rob had hired boards and joined us in the surf, although because bigger and because choppy it was a bit epic and didnt go so well as the morning and yesterday. Plus, the fatigue from having tried so hard was evident - i wasnt snappy in my pop ups, felt like an old man and really heavy. Came in for more of a rest and got really cold. On the way back out for the final time I did a little wee in my suit - and it was amazing - i was toasty. But then got tumbled and my warmth was flushed away. Slightly disgusting but quite incredible. We got drunker that night, so I was hungover in the morning and didnt go out. A brilliant weekend though. Cant wait to get back! She and I have booked a week in July when we plan to go to devon/cornwall and I am shopping for wetsuits...

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Freeing the Free Monster
17 June 2010, 8:12 am

Finally last night I managed to climb the Free Monster. Its a route I first went on years ago, probably 2008 or 2007 I think. I reckon I had 5 or 6 sessions on it in total, and some of those sessions I went on other things because it was wet or whatever. Anyway, I didnt even really want to go if I'm honest, I wanted to go back down Cheesedale, but it would have been boiling and the Cornice seemed like a wise choice.

Suprisingly, Brachiation Dance was wet in places. It was like someone had helpfully crammed sea weed into the jugs. I hate the feeling I might be about to slip off, and I have to admit I stopped midway through to ask for a towel. Meanwhile Dylog clipped up FM. I came down, he came down. I got a go on FM. Actually, could really have done it on this first go - I could remember what to do and got through the 'crux' but didnt feel right on the jug flake that lay beyond. More accurately, I think I was being a wet lettuce. It feels a bit scary that clip. Had a chill, carried on to the top. So, thats it in two sections.

Both Dylog and I are in redpoint mode. We wait. He has issues with finger size in that pocket just before the crux, and this is his undoing on this go. He furtles to the top and down to earth again. I go, once more getting to the flake jug but once more wimping out on it. Do a couple more moves and lower to the ground. Lucy and Lex are on Brachiation Dance. If you know that route, you know that the hardest bit of it is crossing the slab at the start. You dont so much climb it as teeter up it. Anyway, the bolts are in a worrying place and poor Lex takes the ride from the worst place, and on a slab! all of which I have on film! credit to the guy, it doesnt stop him, and keeps at it.

Back to Free Monster, and its back to me. All goes quiet. I pause in the onion to survey what comes ahead. I look at my fingers - pink not white, apply some chalk, and then its time - swarm upwards I think, climb light, climb fast - alpine style... and up we go. Past the first two clips, bit of a shake - am grateful for the hushed encouragement, launch into the first bulge, clip, crux crimp, paste foot, crimp, pop - got it good, bit of a pant, come on - dont let the fear stop you, this is it, make that tricky clip and balls out snatch the jug pocket before the top break - I dont at any stage think I'm going to do it, I'm just climbing - eyes on stalks, like my life depends on it. Torque my heel into the top of the flake, camming my toes against the roof and roll over to the break at the top - oh my god, I got back here! (previous high point from earlier in decade) clip, shuffle along the break, other heel goes up and clip again. Manage a micro shake before launching into the final tricky moves - snatch the crimp, body arcs back but I manage to hold it and haul myself in, I hear Dylog say 'a muerte!' - to the death, and I know that this is the chance, I have to take it, I wont be back here tonight if I fumble, and with all my might I slap leftwards over the top lip for a sidepull, Held it! by god, I settle my feet and lurch wildly onto the finishing jugs! its done! I leap backwards into space victorious at long last. The Free Monster is laid to rest.

Dylog ultimately must feel very frustrated this morning. Not just because his mate did it and he didnt which is a wierd feeling at the best of times - psyched for the doer, gutted to have missed out, but more because he has another three goes, and on go 2 he basically does it but fluffs the top break. He cant hide his frustration, but having covered the ground surely its on the next time he gets back to it. So watch out friends of Dylog - if you are going to be recruited thats where you will be going!

For me though, i want to get back to Cheedale. Edlog and I went last saturday and had a brilliant day. I got on Entree and it feels like it should go down next visit - so if anyone fancies it early saturday morning....

Source: The Blog of Dob