[Nibile]

"and I loved living in Sheffield at that moment. We stood together looking up at Stanage and thanked our stars that we'd ended up here, and all was well. "

ah Ben, I know this feeling so well. shame it's not my home, but it makes me so happy whenever I'm there. I think I'm lucky.

[comPiler]

St Beefcake united
29 March 2011, 9:43 am

This extra hour knocked off has knocked me for six. I feel exhausted, but then I suppose I did get up at what my head thinks is 0445.

I last wrote at the end of the Mega week, and I am saddened but not suprised to report that that was indeed the end of any greatness. The void of obscurity beckons!

The night after I was last wittering, I got called out at 0300. I was then working right through till 1300, when I took my leave and headed out for some fresh air. I was rubbish. Felt really strange and nothing worth writing about happened. The point in telling you this is that whilst I am fortunate enough to sometimes get to do stuff midweek, I do pay for it occasionally with out of hours things overnight.

She and I went to the Lakes for the weekend (19/20). We drove up friday morning, arriving beneath clear blue spring skies, the summits jagged across the horizon and the ODG glinting in the distance (we were in Langdale). Set up camp, and legged it over the hardknott pass to the coast. To say St.Bees was further than expected would be something of an understatement. Granted, we had taken the direct but twisty route, but still - an hour and twenty minutes! Anyway, it was a nice day for a drive, and very stunning situation. Turns out St Bees isnt actually at St Bees, but north at Sandwith. Anyway, the PDF on lakesbloc is spot on, and with exellent, clear directions we arrive and pay for parking at the farm. A short trot up the track to the light house, and I can't emphasise enough quite how beautiful the setting is - 270 degrees of sea, clear blue glittery sea. Wow. Then a death track. Well, actually we had a refusal on death track one which lead to trekking off round the head towards whitehaven to take an easier but still deathy track down. Then once you get down its epic getting around, slippery and involving tottering across a rocky platform over death chasms. And, going down on that path isnt even where the boulders are! Eventually we get back to the original path, which is right by where we need to be, and the first impression is on how incredible the rocks look, and of how amazing the shapes the water has carved are. But there isn't much. Plus, its 1630, and we have to leave at 1730. I do about 45 minutes worth before we trek back up the cliff to the car. A dash back at lightspeed ensues and we arrive at the campsite, mildly car sick and having missed our table. We have no signal to phone through, but after a moments deliberation get changed and decide to try it anyway. We arrive and there's space, and they fit us in. Both finally relax and have a lovely evening.

The saturday isn't as stellar a day as Friday, but its still good. Bowfell is in cloud, but the crinkles occasionally come into view, so up we get and off we go. I think we left at about 1030, and we were atop bowfell by lunchtime. Then back along the crinkles and down back to the pub for about 1600. That first pint was brilliant. We had another, felt quite pissed, then went back to the campsite to get showered and wait for them to start serving food. Went back to the pub, ate, drank a bit more but by 1930 we were bushwacked and back to the campsite we went. Now dont think of us struggling into a tiny tent, oh no - we had rented a wooden camping pod. Which is basically a wooden tent. The plan was to watch a film on the iPad, but by 2030 we were both fast asleep. Sunday it rained, so we left early and went to see my sister's new baby.

So, i got back to work on the Tuesday to find out that one of our suppliers had been hacked and that I needed to spend the week sorting all that out. This was last week, and that consumed most, if not all of my time. I did make it to the pass on tuesday afternoon though, and set about working Mr Fantastalog again. Ultimately, I didn't get anywhere, but I feel like I learnt a bit about what will be required. Popped in at the cave on the way home and worked out a method of starting halfway, then back to Chester where I was stopping that night.

Finally, to finish off this rambling tirade - at the weekend I met Neddy, Nick Brown and Micheala (caminati, not the bleached climbing works stalwart) out at Burbage. Old Micheala wanted to get on Voyager, I wanted to do the Sphinx, Nick was up for anything, and Neddy wanted to sit and think about football. Micheala had just done Full Power. We both did the Terrace again. That shot hole is loads bigger than when I first did it. Then I did the sphinx. Nick and I fumbled on Giza and Micheala furtled at Voyager. Michaela got me to push him through the start, and the thought which struck me was how ferkin hard his back was! it was like benching a granite man! he is the most ripped man in the universe! You could cut yourself on his abs! His torso is like a badly peeled potato. Thats what you get if you climb 8c I suppose. Anyway, it starts raining and we end up back in Fritzl's champ chamber hanging off strips of wood.

Source: The Blog of Dob

[Nibile]

 
Yes, Michele is quite cut indeed. funnily enough, I took a picture of him doing "Mur de Lamentation", before The Peak, and when he saw it he said "I must lose some weight".

[comPiler]

Angston
12 April 2011, 8:40 am

Saturday the 2nd - Ned wants to go to Anston. Ed wants to socially adapt Spike the nervous dog. I want to do a problem I failed on two years ago.

I'd convinced myself that it takes ages to get to. It doesnt, it took half what I expected, but - more on that subject later.

As we walk down the path into the woods, the scent of wild garlic wafts up our noses. Ed is suprised by the tranquility and beauty of the surroundings. When you suggest you're going to rotherham rock climbing, you instinctively imagine scratching around on some filth on the edge of a council estate, hooded youths beatboxing like in a copley brothers video and syringes and johnnies carpetting the floor. Not so Anston. The wild garlic is abundant and a glittering brook dances through the valley but for road noise you could be completely at peace. The crag is south facing, but at least partly shaded by vegetation, so when we get there, bits of it are boiling, and bits of it quite good. All rumble around warming up before Ned starts work on the meat of the day - Mike Adam's new climb 'into the fire'. Spike, Ed and I bimble down to Ebola. This is a problem I tried the only other time I had been to Anston, and thought i was gonna do. Had meant to get back for ages, but never made it. At first it seems totally implausible, so we have to distract Ned from his goals to tell us what to do. He remembers, I improvise, progress is made. Slow progress. He wonders back up the way to Mike's thing.

A moment passes, Ed and I fuss the dog, from a distance we notice Ned pulls on for another go. Something looks different, he doesnt stop, fumble or pause, and actually - he looks like he might be trying! he busts out leftwards and moves through a world of sloping vertical pinches, before locking up to a jug rail - its almost surreal, without a fuss he has done it - theres no yelps for joy, whoops of success or 'tag my fist' bullshit, its just in the bag like its 7b+. Ed shouts his congratulations, Ned puts his shirt on and bounds over, the suggestion of a smile cracking his rictus.

With all this positive energy in the air I change my beta for the crux move on Ebola and set off for another go. The refined sequence is the way, and I too rumble to the jugs of glory. Everyone happy, we move on to have a look at something else I wanted to try, and I ask Ned how hard what he has just done is. "Umm, might be 8b I suppose" he replies. "What does it get given" I enquire, and back comes the answer "8b+" flippin eck Nedward! good effort! As Ned is officially banned from grading and commenting on grades - 8b+! We discuss the merits of foraging and Ned feeds all but the dog wild Garlic, which actually is really nice.

Source: The Blog of Dob

[comPiler]

Roof Warrior
13 April 2011, 7:58 am

Tuesday the 5th - Almscliff. She was having the girls for tea, and whilst I could have gone, I felt there was an opportunity to be taken. As the working day dragged on I excitedly checked out the window and as time drew near the sky suggested otherwise, but the streets were dry. Zoomed first to Horsforth to visit sister and new baby, then to the Cliff. I dont think I have ever had it to myself, but am pretty sure this was the case today. So I stripped to my argyle socks and completed a naked lap of the crag before flashing Cherry Falls.

Back in the real world, I warmed up at the Matterhorn boulder on that lovely 4+ arete thing. Only, smearing onto the arete my foot skids off, my entire weight bounces off my shin and I end up rolling around the grass clutching my leg. Its great to be this talented.

The first of two rooves. Matt's. Bit spicy on your own, as throwing for 'the' move involves potentially jettisoning oneself off the edge of a block, although after a few goes, it becomes apparent that you'd have to be really wild for this to actually happen. I work out a sequence and manage to do the moves. I sit back underneath and start redpointing. Not sure the term really applies to boulderising, but you know what I mean (I start having goes). An anatomy of my trying problems works like this :

1) work out the moves

2) hash together some sort of sequence (usually wrong)

3) identify (through execution) every possible method of getting it wrong



4) get to the top

Matt's is no different, although its a microcosm of the above, with the whole gamut of feelings and stages taking place over an hour rather than two years. Feel delighted to have done it, and cobble together my rag tag possessions and shuffle off towards the other roof of my dreams - Jess's.

Even getting into the cleft is something of a struggle thanks to the epic wind, but when I squeeze into the darkness I am pleased to find no poo, just glass. I lash my pads to the boulders at the top, fashioning a sort of slide/platform, then set about working out how to do the top. I manage to climb through the difficult finishing moves a couple of times before establishing myself at the bottom for a proper go. But the problem now is session fitness. I get there every go, I get to the point where you have to try, and because I feel a bit pumped I dont dare. In fairness, this is at least partly due to a fairly rational fear of being found face down, twitching on a carpet of broken glass. Or being poo'ed on.

Sometimes its fine to operate in isolation. I actually like it on some things, but more often than not team psyche is an underated motivating factor. Felt a bit bored and lonely on Tuesday, but strange short sessions are difficult to arrange around and thats just how it is sometimes.

Source: The Blog of Dob

[comPiler]

ironmonger
3 May 2011, 8:50 am

I could launch into a massive diatribe about all thats gone on since I last put finger to keyboard, but I will spare your eyes and my fingers for reasons of time - the same restrictions preventing more eloquent and lengthy postings here lately too.

So, the day I went with Ned and Ed to Anston, I opened my account on a Mike Adam's masterpiece called Dark Art. I can remember going years ago when Dan did it and being amazed and thinking that there was no way I would ever do it. Well, on the weekend before I had a bit of a do, and actually thought I could believe I could do it. Suddenly I had gone from ambivalance about the place to scrabbling for chances to get back there. Thursday the 7th the opportunity came and I went straight from work. The difference from the weekend was that as the clock struck 4, the temp said 19degrees, and I thought it was probably pointless. And it would have been had I gotten straight on, but by the time I had dropped stuff off, fannied around and warmed up, the problem was in shade and it looked like I could be about to do it. Slowly I increased my high point, until I actually latched the dish which signals the end of the hard climbing - blimey! was this it! I've done it, just adj..whoa! bang - on the mats. "Dammit! I'm not gonna do it!" back around I go, and there are bad goes, ok goes and I even think about leaving - then have another good go, but none good enough. Still - quite happy that I am pretty close I pack up and head off as night falls.

And the problem then was that it went red hot. I did go back on Saturday the 9th, but it was redders and there was no point. And in fact, I shouldnt have done, as it bit me and I came away with splits. The thing is, I knew it was daft, but I knew I could do it, and that I needed just one go, so I thought that perhaps I could still pull it off. And it did nearly happen, but nearly isnt enough and I went home empty handed. That was the day of Adam's wedding. Went to that in the evening with Dave and Ned and had fun. Sunday out on bike in the sunshine.

The next two weeks saw the calling of the lime, and the start of tor season (and at times, it felt like it was already too hot). Ned and I went to get on Mecca but got sidetracked with Culloden. Man, that is so doable. The pocket was a bit wet, but I worked out a probably dubious sequence, but which works for me (if interested, this is from rh in pocket, left to crimp, then right toe out right, rock up to rat crimp rh, then flag and stab left to tooth thing, right up to wedgy fingerlock and left outside edge in jug pocket. Jump to jug). But the split from the week before reopened and that was the end of that. I honestly think I could have done it but for that. Damn sharp rat crimps.

Then I got back on Mecca, and to be honest - I feel good on it. On the 22nd I got into the groove with one hand twice, only I didnt manage to clip. Think it was a bit hot and I was fighting, didn't catch the horn right and had to yard for the draw rather than clip it. Pretty poor really, I should have gotten both hands into the groove, sorted it out, then clipped. Its fine though, if I get there when its cooler, or i havent got taped splits I think i will be ok. My plan is to get into the groove, then start from bottom of the groove to the top - which is a link i have done before, then into the groove - top, then full redpoints.

Finally, Saturday 23rd me and the monster go to Mallorca for a week. Lovely. We stayed at Deia which is up in the mountains and just wonderful. Very different to the mallorca you see on club reps - not a paunchy burnt englishman in a football shirt in sight (except me of course, but I dont have a football shirt). Loads of road bikers everywhere in the mountains - its obviously the time to go. Anyway, we have two full day walks which are brilliant, and even a day investigating the DWS potential. Problem is, as everyone predicted - that the sea is too cold. Much too cold. You jump in and hyperventilate, claw your way back onto dry land and shiver, cramped in a ball until the sun warms your cockles. So, the iterative process of progressively jumping in from a bit higher and higher doesnt get to happen, and I am wracked with terror! We investigate Cala Barques, which is incredible. The Stu little 8a looks amazing, but I am too scared to even set off (it starts from a ledge at about 5 metres). I do a 6c about 5 times but am so overgripping everything that I get really pumped. We look at Sa Nau as well, but its forbidding and I dont want to even go in!

So, its a post of irons in fires. Back on Mecca - keen for that, feels like I have a lot to do though, but I think I am getting the concept of being able to do it. Culloden I would like to get back to, and I hope that would go quickly (kiss of death) and then theres Dark Art. But, will it be too hot from now on I wonder! Hope not.

Source: The Blog of Dob

[Richie Crouch]

Loving the Anston psyche! Lets pray it cools enough to allow some pre summer ascents, well keen to get on Dark Art and Revolver.

Did Ned show you Into the light? Looks proper bo 

[comPiler]

Cullodon't
5 May 2011, 10:02 am

A quick tale from the Tor for you. Its all about mornings at the moment. The sun gets round onto the tor by noon, and to be honest - the heat is so great, and so prolonged, that there's little point going of an evening as even after the sun goes, it doesnt cool down enough before it goes dark. And dispense with the idea of lamping - you need to be an hour or so after dark for condensation to have gone (even then it might not have done), and the expense and size of an effective setup must surely be prohibitive. Anyway, given all this advice, I went last night anyway with Nick Brown, and lo - it was good...

Yes, it would have been too hot on Mecca, and yes, that which wasnt at the right hand side was sweltercon factor 20, but it was quite climbable in the leafy right hand side, and in fact I think it felt pretty reasonable. Funnels the wind you see the right hand side bit, and I think it felt like it was ok. Nick hadnt done Powerband, and I havent done it twice (the proper way), so we got involved in that in the guise of a warm up. The part of this tale which is pertinent is that previously on the ascent which suceeded, I employed the feet straight on at the end beta, and have never been able to make it work since. Ned and I talked about this last week, as he does egyptian. Nick and I tried it last night and went from getting the hand on the mound to getting it in the cleft (snick). Interesting. Tried from the start, and wilted getting left foot across, but got renewed interest in Stamina band, which must surely be good training for Mecca? Athough, as I think Rae once said, powerband is only good for doing powerband!

The point of the expedition was to ascend to the summit of the climb 'Culloden'. So after argubly exhausting ourselves flailing along a polished traverse at a different crag, we headed to our objective. From the ground I placed the first three clips, and with the rope dangling safely overhead, I scuttled onto the ledge. Moving the murder weapons out of the way, I teetered upwards. To my delight, the jugs were dry, and I was able to swing gayly between them like a hippo galloping into burger king. Up to the crimp I went - ooh, it felt hard and physical (again, in the words of the Cowie - theres no hiding from it), and take said I.

After a moments respite to collect ones thoughts and allow the lactate to drain, I pulled on at the crimp. What a few weeks ago felt like a rat crimp felt like a boner, and I casually stabbed in to the tooth. Levered up to the jam and looked impotently at my feet - erm, nothing looks right. Hmm. Back on the rope. I put the next draw in and suddenly a helpful smear appears just above the third bolt. Hmm, the move is about 3a. I go back to the jugs, and climb through to the end. Hmm.

Nick has a go, makes good progress - does all the moves, but feels cold after winching my bulk for the last 20 minutes and comes back down. I have another go, this time climbing through the hard bit, but being too scared to commit to the last move. I know I am being a wimp, and before I give up I hold the position for a few seconds and try to talk myself into it, but it doesnt happen and I slump off the route.

So, the problem is that physically I can do the route, but I need to embrace falling off first. The problem is that I need to thread my foot behind the rope just above the bolt, and its you are without your edge as you are at the top. Man up Morton!

Source: The Blog of Dob

[Jaspersharpe]

!!! 

[Stu Littlefair]

I see Jasper's  and raise you a 

Don't take this the wrong way Ben, but I simply can't understand how you get yourself into a situation where you are fully aware that your fear of falling holds you back, that it has done for some time, and yet you do absolutely nothing about it. Instead of wasting time dicking about on powerband you could have spent 15 minutes taking progressively bigger drops onto the bolt that gives you the willies and written a blog post about your impressive crush-fest. As Dave Macleod himself says "The solution is simple, easy to follow and 100% successful whether it’s bouldering, sport climbing or trad."

Something is holding you back from doing this; I wonder what?

[cofe]

yeah ben, you dick.

[Stu Littlefair]

http://onlineclimbingcoach.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html

It stops now Ben. 

[saltbeef]

Something is holding you back from doing this; I wonder what?

it's his vagina

[cofe]

you should belay him stu:

<ben starts shaking and crying>

stu: "don't you fucking dare let go ben you fucking cunt!!!"

ben: "ok"

<ben climbs route without falling off>

the end

[Stu Littlefair]

I was at Ceuse once at the same time as the French Junior Team (the girls). Their cunt coach was belaying them on slabs at the Javanaise sector, and they were finding it traumatic. Mostly because any time they betrayed any outward sign of fear, like 'watch me' or even a bit of a whimper, they were rewarded with another loop of slack.

That's what I'm talking about!

[Paul B]

I offered this years ago, he refused. Maybe we can hang him off London Wall 'Jack Osbourne' stylee, surely he can only hang on for so long before the inevitable?

[cofe]

surely he can only hang on for so long before the inevitable?

he blogs about it?

[Stubbs]

OMG the geez haz got me hanging off London Wall!!!!!!

he blogs about it?

[Doylo]

Big pansy,if you re serious about mecca you need to sort this!

[Bonjoy]

 
Mecca has a genuinely scary runout (in that it has been known to cause injury, ask Simon Read) and you’re never going to get up that groove if you aren’t resolute. From my experience (of NOT doing Mecca) I reckon you either have to commit to making life significantly harder for yourself by clipping the normally skipped bolt, or take the draw off when you redpointing so you don’t have the option to grab it when things start getting turbulent.

[SA Chris]

Although I have no experience of any of these, I must admit a healthy does of MTFU does appear to be the solution. (IMHO).

[Jaspersharpe]

  Dob's getting a worse kicking than Nick Clegg today! 

[cofe]

It's like we're an evil mix of Dr Cox and the Janitor

[Johnny Brown]

I say we kidnap him, put him in a sack, then throw him off Millers Dale viaduct until he stops squealing.

[Paul B]

or take the draw off when you redpointing so you don’t have the option to grab it when things start getting turbulent.

Brilliant, you can just see it now: a lone finger sticking out of a hanger...