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Extended Entree (siege alert!)
21 June 2010, 8:41 am

I'm not bothered about watching other sports, or really our sport. Its not watching that floats my boat - its doing. There are some sporting events I would sit in front of - the gymnastic rings for instance - thats well impressive, but football? naaah. Not bothered. We did watch on Friday though, although I almost wish we hadnt. Thing with football in particular is that it seems massively variable. Sometimes its just log, and in my untrained eyes, I reckon that which was played on Friday was definately log. Anyway, theres enough hype and commentary about that particular sport that you dont need more ill advised comment from me.

Bless Ned. He's one of the good ones. Poor guy usually gets up mid morning, not so Saturday. I'd bullied him into coming down Cheedale with me 'to finish Entree', so he was round at mine at nine, and we were trotting down the hill at half past. First to cross to two tier, and doesnt the stream feel warm and is low this year? Ned had bought with him his portable fingerboard, so we hung that from the first bolt on kali yuga and set about warming up. This is a genius idea - why waste skin and time on something you dont care about? get warmed up on the fingerboard which can be taken anywhere and then get straight on with it. Plus, Entree is effectively all over by the second bolt, so after a bit of a warm up I clipsticked to the second and then furtled to the top.

Rob Smith and Dan Cheatham arrive. Rob is here to do Entree, and Dan to do Minos. We discuss sequences - interestingly they are both totally different. As I keep nearly doing it my way, I'm not gonna change now, but its interesting to see if theres anything I could make easier. My first go is rubbish - the undercut crimp feels a bit serious, and I lower off to do some crimping on the fingerboard. Ned has a go, trying a wild new method which involves pressing the blocky pinch all the way to the gaston - he is about to do it when a foothold spings off the wall. Its the one you (i) use to step up in to the undercut, and whilst its now a tiny bit harder, that tiny bit is quite tiny. I dont ever fail to do that move for instance, but I would say its a bit harder.

Go 2 is better, but I dont get the pod right and lurch out of it. Go 3 is 'the' go. I should have done it. The holds just feel better, I have them more positively, everything goes well, the pod feels like a jug. I am able to shake out and have a chalk and everything, but I just feel massively out of balance trying to get my right hand to the jug and after much furtling I fall off. I knew that was the one as well. Work out what to do again, but it just doesnt feel as easy as I think it should. Rob has a go and shows us his more direct sequence - to be honest, I think it looks harder. They go back up to Minos and I try to summon the force. I dont really manage it and just feel a bit dull. It doesnt go down, and so I replace my rope and draws with those of Rob before wading back out. Frustrating, but its ok - I will be back. Already I start to wonder when this could be....

Saturday night we have dinner guests, I spend most of the afternoon cooking then we eat and get drunk. Nice. Sunday is beautiful, so we sit in the back garden drinking tea and reading books. The afternoon finishes meeting friends in Graves park to climb trees, throw boomerangs and attempt to fly kites.

This week we are under an area of high pressure bringing sunshine and sweaty hot temps until at least the tail end of the week, so any hopes of late night Cheedale action are probably daft - whilst the wall is out of the sun by 7.30, it wont cool down until its nearly dark. Plus, I know Dylog wants to get back down WCJ Cornice to finish FM. I'm happy to go there, and there are some drawers in rumble, so I could go on that - or Yorkshire 8b.... Anyway, keep you posted...

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Brachiation Lex
24 June 2010, 8:48 am

I thought yesterdays football match was quite exciting. So much so that when i got into the car, i actually tuned the radio to five live so as to be able to keep up with it. Plus, it was quarter past four anyway, so I'd seen the first half and the second was underway. By the time we arrived I'd know what had happened. Its not so much the football itself, more the collective zeitgeist of the nation, to not take part feels like missing out, and I hate to miss out.

The roads werent quiet. Or rather, the cars that were on them seemed to be concentrating elsewhere and not paying attention to their driving. And, there were loads of cars at Rubicon. Just one person at the rocks though, and noone at the Cornice. Drier than last week, but still some slime on Brachiation dance.

I had a look at the Disillusioned Glue Machine which is filthy. So filthy in fact that it was unclimbable. I contemplated cleaning it with my lapis, but this would have A : taken all night, and B : been epic with just a lapis. Could one of the full timers go and sort it out please? You would need a stiff brush and patience.

Having run away from that one I go to the other end of the world and stick the draws in Yorkshire 8B. Meanwhile Lex is lapping to the top of Brachiation Dance, Dylog is clipping up Free Monster and Sam has started on Rumble in the Jungle. Rumble looks amazing - fully incredible wild moves right up there in the roof. Dylog looks to be having a whitey with the Freemonster, and I have to agree - it does seem hotter than last week. Ed does Brachiation dance. The cycle goes round.

I have the fear about yorkshire 8b. The moves are pretty steady, and really its well bolted - but you clip on the lip then do the crux (which is hard), so the clip is above you then, then reaching out of the crux you're now on its level, then you must place your foot on at the same level and rock over - to a hold which is good. So from there theres an easily droppable move to finish the hard climbing, so you would complete this section with your feel on the lip next to the bolt - so the fall and everything would be fine - whats the problem? honestly - its frustrating. I carry on to the top and realise just how easy it all is up there. Cant believe it - need to get this head sorted.

Anyway, back to Dylog and the Free Monster. As is often the way, he just looked smoother, more composed and to be climbing better. Plus, Sam had imparted a better sequence on the end bit, so he was quicker - not that it made any difference or that he needed to be - he got there, did the deed and finished it off. A great effort.

Then to Lex. 3 or 4 redpoints to the final jug on brachiation dance, falling from the slap around the lip to finish, and the debate had been whether to force a stop half way through on his last go, so as to do a new link from mid to top. We talked about this, and it did make a lot of sense, but what about the if i get there I'll just fight to the death psyche? last go psyche? that must have been what he tapped into last night as this go put the rest of us to shame. In the gathering darkness he set off up the slab, huffing and puffing - he didnt blow the house down, but he did get to the breaks, make the clip and get a bit back. But enough? who knows... As he swam upwards there was silence from below - come on lex, dont blow it - you can do this we thought collectively. But he looks tired - however he's got great tenacity, and with no small application of gumption is soon at the top break, clips in, ready to do the deed, come on Lex! He shakes out, exchanges a few choice words with us, the throng below and the shouting starts, he revels in it, fluffs the tricky move, we think he's off, but scrabbling he tries again and gets it this time - surely he cant hold on anymore? he does! with a rebel yell slaps wildly over the lip, we roar, but privately hope he has enough in the tank to match and thank goodness he does! in total control he matches, swings out, lets out a yell and then drops off. Brilliant. What a great effort. Man of the match award to him.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Brachiation Vid
25 June 2010, 6:42 am

from dobbin on Vimeo.

Source: The Blog of Dob

[dave]

Is that lex as in lex, as in lex wilkinson, or some other lex with similar facial bone structure?

[account_inactive]

[Barratt]

Lex "the power" Wilkinson !

Effort mate...

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Neigh
28 June 2010, 11:24 am

Baking baking baking. Lofty aspirations of pulling on teeny razor crimps massively misplaced in such conditions, even at early o clock on saturday morning. Met Ed at Topley pike at 0930 and even then it was 17 degrees in the car and tres hot walking down. Needless to say I didnt so much as go backwards on Entree as to be almost unable to pull on. Bit disappointing, but must remember that it was conditions rather than me that was the problem. Made a couple of potential sequence changes which seem to make the hard bit more amenable, so will have to see the next time its cool. Constance Variable writes in the latest On the High camping and walking up hills magazine that this is the time to be training, and he is right, but when you have seen a glimmer of success you spend your waking moments scrabbling for opportunities to seal the deal.

Dave Hesleden and other chap who i know and speak to but dont know name of turn up and do pitch one of darl. Ed clips up Orange Sunshine and dispatches it on his first or second go. He even does a man bark, so it must actually be quite hard. We sack it off at 12 and walk out. Sweaty. This leads me to mine and Ned's idea of the graph of climber perception. At one end of the scale, the quiet destroyer, genuinely modest and a secret beast, ticking their way through whatever they try without telling anyone about it, and at the other end he who shouts and screams, tells anyone who will listen about his successes and respins his failures to be the fault of conditions/someone else/etc or just lies about things. You know the sort - the one who tells you his hardest ever tick when you ask what his favourite climb had been. Anyway, they're at opposite ends of the scale. We realised it wasnt a linear graph - rather perhaps, it was a horseshoe? from goon to good un in the shape of a horseshoe? no. further analysis of the model revealed actually, the graph is the shape of a proud stallion, stood in a field with its phallus erect and glistening. On the hoof of modesty is your Ed Robinson's and Roy Mosely's, on the very tip of the penis is Squiff, Ned would be the buttocks, I the mouth, the littlefair/davies are on the other front hoof - at the modest end but say more than your Mosinators and Robinsons and beasts every step of the way. Jon Fullwood - you'd be a bee flying around the horse. You see, the model works for us all - Jon wouldnt be on the model, therefore he fits as a bee which would be in the picture. Adam Mong, he would be the lustrous mane. Jim is the belly. Lee is its tiny pin head. Consider where you fit, and if you cant place yourself - ask. I can extrapolate your position using a complicated mathematical model.

That afternoon she and I buy her a car, its a Mini, and I am well jealous. Saturday night we go to a barbecue, and there are decks and everything. I get quite excited and ask for a turn. I have no records and have to make do with someone else's but remember what to do and can actually do it. This is interesting, because as you know i have recently started digital DJing, and argued that beatmatching is a basic mechanical skill which anyone could learn. And I stand by that, Traktor does take you away from having to keep the records in time which leaves you free to concentrate on building a soundscape. But, actual physical DJing is a very intuitive thing, and more about the selection of the right record for the mood than it is about seamless beat matching. Thing is, that once you get to an automotive level of being able to do it without thinking then you can layer sounds together with turntables as well as on the computer. I still think digital is the way forward, but I had great fun on the actual decks, and perhaps this is the crux of the matter. If you want to mess around and do a bit now and again then physical is the way, but if you want to go serious and make sprawling epic four deck prog-a-thons then digital is the answer.

Sunday was a day of sport, but not for us. We had to go to the car garage to finish the purchase of her car. Once that was done we sat in the garden and then started watching the match. I imagine that because I find commentary on climbing from people who dont understand it irritating that any such football comment from me would be seen likewise, but we watched and were disappointed with everyone else. Tried to go for a walk after that but it was just too hot.

Meanwhile at the BBCs and in comp land in general, some bright spark had organised for the British Bouldering Champs to be held the same weekend as a world cup round. This meant that the horse's buttocks couldnt take part and defend his title. I imagine the thinking here was that well, we already know that we want the people we are sending to eindhoven to be in the team, so it doesnt matter that they miss the comp. Well it does, because its not fair that the incumbent doesnt get chance to defend his title. As it happened, the horse got sent to the glue factory and he got back in time, but was tired and didnt win. Nige Callendar did. Leah Crane won the ladies.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Yorkshire oh well
1 July 2010, 8:26 am

I used to think it would be great to live in Litton. The Red Lion is as pubs should be - dark, low ceiling'ed and with good beer, but the locals... man, the locals. With barely disguised hostility they tut as incomers try to get to the bar. She and I once were going to eat in there (and apparently the food is nice), we found an empty seat at a table - quite close to the bar, nothing on the table or the chairs or any indication there was anyone there, then this woman comes in and does a massive theatrical gasp and exclaims to the bar staff that there's someone in her place. She tutted and sat next to us, pushing the monster in the process. As she knows the bar staff by name we have extrapolated that she is a local. We left. Perhaps the village has suffered because of people buying holiday homes or something, but they come across as unwelcoming.

There are ancient rules written about success in climbing. If you win in the cave you get a fish. If you do an 8a you buy your belayer beer. Last night we got to go to the Red Lion, and last night I bought beer.

I'm superficially superstitious. I.e. I wonder whether its possible to jinx something by thinking I am going to do it, but I know really its not the case. Like when you really want something and you set yourself little 'omen tasks', such as - if I can throw this paper in the bin with my left hand, standing on one leg and from the other end of the room then I will do my project tonight... I do these things. Sometimes wonder if you take success for granted then you won't succeed. Sometimes it feels like the crag watches and listens, weighing whether you've shown respect before deciding whether you'll need another visit to acheive your goal. Sometimes it feels like you need to trick the crag, nip in when its not looking and bag your project before it realises you've been sly. Lanny Bassham says you should approach things believing you're going to do them, but I often feel that thinking like that is being presumptuous, and that I should be humble, and if i'm good enough i'll be rewarded.

It was always going to be a fun night last night. We had a big team, and numbers just seemed to swell as time ticked on. Starting off, the Sheffield based Cornice Bream Team of me, Dylog, Edlog and Lexlog were always going to go. During the day my ginger protege wondered whether to come, and although not climbing he came for the party and as a celebrity belayer. Through the opening in the Bum of Manchester came Britain's best bum doctor, followed by the honourable Mr Davies, then we got Scouse champ Pinnington into the mix as well. As if that wasn't enough, Miles and Ben Heason joined in later. The crag looked like Siurana, there were ropes and draws scattered about the roof, although unlike Siurana (I've never been, I imagine its like this) the climbers attached to the ropes were all sat on them.

Dispensed with the usual warm up of Brachiation log, and for the first time ever in my history of Cornice visits - noone did it last night. Ed, Lex and Dave got on the 7a+ to the far right. Dave led it, putting the draws in and it didnt look easy, but he did it. Lex and Ed got involved and ultimately both succeeded as well. I went on this (and failed) at the end of the night, and I think its harder than brachiation dance. Ru and Dylog get on Rumble in the Jungle which looks terrifying and yet awesome. Miles and Ben clip up Albattrocity. Meanwhile I bolt to bolt Yorkshire 8b. During our warm up Ru and I discuss it's being a Power of Climbing tick. I had forgotten there's a picture of Chris Plant on it, but there is, and a new special significance. I have spent much of my life influenced by the pages of that book, and the cringeworthy interviews it contains. I would half like to write the Power of Climbing2, or try and do a spoof version. Imagine - you could have picture of me squeezing my feet into a climbing shoe, sat underneath Super High Intensity Body Building, surrounded by drilling detritus and cast off climbing equipment with the caption "Ben Morton squeezing his feet into too tight shoes before attempting SHIBB" (cant remember exact wording). If you don't have the book, and you dont know the picture I am parodying then this will make no sense. If that is you - shame on you. Go and buy it. Anyway, the point is that if its in the Power of Climbing then I want to do it, and my friends and I quote the captions on the pictures to each other willy and indeed, nilly.

As per all things Cornice, rumble rumble rumble, hard bit, rooves, top. The new Anasaxi whites which I bought from the excellent CragX shop at the Foundry feel great. They're stiffer and the crux feels easier as a result, but the stiffness and perceived lack of feel counts against me on the easier move that follows as I cant feel my foot in the dish and drop off without really trying. Basically i have another couple of goes which end badly, before it happens. The route is well bolted in that you can clip the mid crux clip from the jug below and then shake out there before you decide to commit. The bad bit about this is that it gives you time to think about it and whether you've got it in you before you start. Banishing those thoughts I started, and for once I tried. Enough to climb past the crux and stab into the jug slot that signals the difficulty is over. Got it! get established, have a shake, clip - continue to the top. Feels an anti climax to be honest. I think i am pretty used to having to spend ages on things so that when I do something so quickly i feel a bit ambivalent. Also, it sort of finishes in the middle of nowhere on some jugs amidst tufts of grass. I cant see anything else up there, so I shuffle back down and jump off. Done.

Spend the rest of the evening cleaning Disillusioned glue machine. Its probably climbable now, but it is pretty horrendous. Will I go back and do it? yeah. Its something to do and could be another quick win, but am I excited, scrabbling to get back on it? naaah.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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World Cup glory for Screech
5 July 2010, 8:54 am

When I went for a walk on Friday lunchtime I managed to stub my toe so hard that it hurt to walk and the whole thing went purple. I knew then that getting a climbing shoe on would be a challenge, but when I woke up on Saturday it didnt seem so bad, so I jumped in the car and set off to the tor. Time 0900.

You know that link road that connects the pub on Ringinglow Road with Hathersage Road? (just looked on Google maps, and its actually called Sheephill Road) well, as I was pootling along all traffic coming towards me was flashing their lights. Ah ha, i thought - it will be the rozzers, so I pootled along the lane at 28 miles an hour, a big smug grin on my face, thinking - you'll not catch me today, but as I rounded the corner near Hsage rd where theres a driveway to the left I was confronted by a totally smashed up white 306 estate in the middle of the road having obviously been in a serious accident... "Shit" I thought! Lee has one of them, but I could see the driver pacing around on the phone, and he clearly wasnt Lee and was able to walk. Around the corner there was a red golf without a scratch on it so I gingerly negotiated around them and continued on to the tor. Turns out that the white 306 was squiff, and the red golf was dan and Rob on their way to cheedale. Everyone is ok, but squiff has no car. Impressive damage. Whole car looked to be U shaped.

Anyway, I went to the tor. It felt like it was actually quite good - breezy, jumper on between goes etc but perhaps it was deceptive? Either way, as i couldnt exert pressure through my left foot, so I didnt do anything of note, but it was fun to be out. Big toes it transpires, are quite important. Back to Sheff, then off to a barbecue at Helen's where i find out that it was Rob and Dan in the golf and have a lovely evening. Even if the boule was fixed by the hostess.

Sunday. Busy day. Christening in Manchester, then back in time for the world cup round at Millhouses Park. I just wanted to see Adam Ondra. The monster didnt realise no Brits were in the final and lost quite a lot of interest when Ned gave her the bad news. Even though no longer personally invested, it was exciting. And, its always nice to see so many friends knocking around. The problems looked hard! Of note in the lady final were Alex Johnson of the USA - she is a whopper! Like a sort of super Katy Whittaker. Katy on Weetabix. Natalia Gros - fifth element lookalike, and amazing japanese lady. In the man final there was Polish dave with long hair (man from Ukraine), man with rat on head (from Russia), Brian May from Queen (adam ondra), Man with unlikely name who was clearly amazing - cedric and very thin man from France. Oh, and another Japanese gentleman.

The man final went like this : japanese gent would come out and nearly do stuff - get to the top, fight valiantly but not finish the problem. Then Polish Dave would come and beef his way up. He got up two I think. Then man with Rat would look pretty handy, then Cyril Sneer would destroy the problem (this guy is amazing) and then thin french man, and finally ostrich boy would come out and annihilate them. He was just awesome. He flashes three out of four then misreads the first move of the last one a couple of times before suddenly seeing it and wandering to the top like its 3b. A most impressive display. For reference, problem one seemed to involve a deadpoint to a small sharp edge, everyone else had to hurl themselves up it loads of times - not Adam Ondra - nails to the hold, engages iron finger and stops on it like its a massive jug. Impressive stuff. Then the speed with which he romps up the groove was most impressive. He's just in another league.

So dismaying was this display of competition prowess that went off to Nibbles to console ourselves.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Nedward Froghally
8 July 2010, 7:28 am

Sometimes when you set off on something you've got the willies before you even start. Once spooked it takes a lot to unspook during a climb. Sometimes your blood just feels thick. You're pumped when you pull on, and once you register that you are, then you cant shake it off. It would be great to be totally empirical about climbing - to pull on and climb and just go with the flow - seeing what happens rather than analysing the signs.

It was raining yesterday, and rain means getting wet on long walk ins, so we went to the Tor. I got back on Obscene Toilet (is it called this?) and felt pumped. Got to the crux and shouted 'Take'. Disappointed in myself. On my next go I tried, and this was the scene of a brilliant training experience. Climbed past the bolt and got committed. There was no way I could reverse - I tried to try, I really did. I stabbed my feet, lurched into the undercut, but my elbows went out and off I went and wheeee! Brilliant. There's a world of difference between jumping off and taking a fall, and this felt like the first proper one I've had.

Ned and I jump in the car with the intentions of looking at Sean's roof. Which was wet. Then to Rubicon for him to have a look at Zeke. Couldn't remember my foot sequence on his bolt to bolt go, and he fluffed the bit through the pinches because of it. Looked brilliant though, and I wanted to remember how to climb it, so I had a go suprising everyone (most of all me) by doing it in two halves. Clean the holds, take the rope off the top two and lower down. Loads of frogs about. Ned tries to pick one up and it does a wee on his mat. He drops to his knees like a dog and laps the frog piss up. His eyes bulge and he takes on a strange distant look before tying back on. This time he knows what to do, his feet flit frog like between the grips and with a little 'ribbit' he makes it to the pinch. His powerful frog legs propel him to the dish and he bones like his life depends on it, has a bit of a look around, stuffs his foot onto the nubbin and levers through for the crimp. Blimey, he's got it! Undercut, over and he's on the break at the end of the hard climbing, clipping the bolt. Good effort! He looks like he's going to fall off the top, but thankfully doesn't and he's clippin' and strippin' just seconds later.

We emerge into the light for me to go on Tribes. I have a rubbish furtle go and get it wrong. Half sort out a sequence, and therein was my undoing - I glossed over the feet. Next go I climb well, everything feels great, then I fluff my feet and am off. I'm eulogising how good it is and inspite of having the starts of a split, Frog Boy ties on for a burn. The Morton beta machine serves him well and basically dispensing with his feet on the technical headwall (ok, they were pasted on) he flashes the route. Come on Ned, keep it going I think as he gets to the bulge, he's done it - and so easily too - as it did look easy. But then he starts huffle puffing - the frog piss must have run out, I shout some help, he makes a bark and manages to get the jug, but it could be a death crimp or something - the way he's yurtling at it. Thankfully he finds enough to continue and finishes himself off on the ledge above.

I am well psyched, and delighted for the Ginger Ninja, but I havent got the beef to finish the job - and my finger is splitting. Only at the end do I realise theres a hole in my foot sequence, so I fill it but its too late for that day. Man of the match for Ned vegas, surely a great evening out by anyones standards?

Source: The Blog of Dob

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What women want
22 July 2010, 8:01 am

Some girls go out with guys who are dicks. Some girls seem to like men to treat them badly - men like Chuck Norris. Macho, tough guy, alpha male types. At the other end of the scale some girls pick a Gok Wang character - someone with whom they can go shopping and ensure they look fabulous. Me, I'm like Gok Norris. Soft and yet hard, yin and yang - I'll take charge and be chivalrous, but also 'that colour aint working for you girlfriend' mmm hmm (on bad days I become Chuck Wang. He's a dick).

Been surfing in Cornwall for a week. Started off flat, then got bigger, but super windy - so blown out/confused. Got in for two sessions a day, I'm still learning and still rubbish but more and more into it. In fact, I think it would have been different had I not had a last good session before heading home on the thursday. You see, as I understand it (thanks more experienced surf buddies), this is the problem with our fair isle. The wind blows the wrong way, the waves get confused and its hard work even if you do know what you're doing (which I dont). Basically, it was a bit frustrating from Monday to wednesday. Yes I was in the water, yes i was getting better at the ancillary techniques of getting out the back, paddling, take off and all that, but no - i wasnt getting many rides. Neither was anyone though. Then on the wednesday night we went up to Watergate bay for dinner in Jamie Oliver 'inspired' Fifteen (inspired because although I thought he owned them - he doesnt, but he did help set them up). Well, this was amazing on two levels - the meal eating experience was awesome - lovely food, service etc, but the setting was just astounding. The restaurant is on stilts on the beach and with the tide right in you are basically in the surf - which was booming! It was early, and there were people in the water - they looked like they really knew what they were doing. The waves were twice their size when they were at the bottom of them stood up on their boards. Well impressive.

You can buy a tent for £50 (you can of course, pay significantly less). These tents are only really suitable for camping in conditions which could be compared to actually being indoors. Certainly, they are not geared up to cope with any proper weather. And really, thats not even what happened on Wednesday night. It wasn't that bad, but come morning everyone else in a tent only was packing up to leave. We'd not slept well - ending up having to curl up in the back of the car and it all felt a bit epic. Its fine being in the sea when its raining and windy because your wetty keeps you toasty, but when you get out you want to go somewhere warm and dry to relax. Its just not relaxing being in a tent which is constantly getting flattened by the wind. So, thursday morning we packed up and headed.... to Crantock!

Gwithian was red flagged, and looked like a big mess of whitewater anyway. Ed said go to Harlyn, but thats right up by Padstow, and she wanted to go to Crantock for a look in this gallery there. The main bit looked rubbish, but the left hand side by the rocks was sheltered enough to be churning out some good waves. Had best session of the trip and went home happy. Surfing seems to be one of those things where you think - why do i bother, this is desperate and i'm rubbish at it, and then suddenly you get it right a couple of times and you cant stop thinking about it a week later.

So, back at home (which felt great, we obviously didnt realise how epic camping was in a shit tent), and it gets to Saturday and I call upon celebrity Belayer Ned Freewheely early on to go to Rubicon. First go on Tribes and i do all the hard bit, get flash pumped and fall off the jugs. Next go it goes down. Pleased, but it is a bit log since the hold broke, worse for it. Get on Beluga. Ned tries to flash DB but has a bad left finger and cant pull on the smallest crimp in the known universe. We leave.

Sunday the monster and I walk down through Cheedale. Cornice is busy and looks incredible.

Yesterday Ned and I meet Constant Variable in Sean's roof. They make good progress and are both pretty close. From the pod to the end, both are getting the jug but whilst Ned knows holding the swing is unlikely (from horizontal), Dan actually tries, which does nothing more than make him horizontal in the other direction - i.e. with his feet pointing straight out towards a passing juggernaut. At which point he lets go. 10 feet up vertically, moving fast and horizontal with your head below your hands is not a healthy place to be. Gravity takes charge and he smacks down missing all forms of padding and spotters (although what would a spotter do from there?). Thankfully he gets up unscathed, but to be honest I was suprised. We retreat to Rubicon.

As we arrive Edlog is at the top of Too Old to be Bold, and we learn that Dylog has just done it as well. I get back on Beluga, and in spite of the mother of all splits make some progress. Problem is with the feet on that middle bit. Plus, I think the super stubbed toe may actually have been broken - i.e. it still hurts (three weeks on). Ed, Dylan and Ned get on the Sissy. Noone does it. Lex keeps nearly doing TOTBB, and would do on his next session i'd have thought. Seriously - who is this guy? he will be going from 7a+ - 7c in about two months! and climbing with us? wtf?!

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Obscene faceplant
26 July 2010, 10:00 am

Ed pulled off his shirt to reveal a torso bulging like a condom stuffed not with walnuts but with Brazil nuts. A last gasp, a dab of chalk and he stepped off the ground. The first few metres passed in silence, as he reached up into the undercut but didnt look so assured as he had done on previous redpoints, nevertheless, he stood up, clipped and started the crux sequence. As his hands snatched between the grips, his body betrayed an inner fatigue and I didnt think he would succeed.

His left stabbed up into the undercut signalling the end of the crux, and for a second he was attached, holding the hold, then POW! his hand shot off, he pivoted out of the still attached right hand side and hung, motionless for a second but facing the wrong way before diving headfirst towards the ground! WILD! thankfully all was well and he was only frustrated. Next go shouldnt have been, but was and he doesnt have to go up there again.

I on the other hand, do. Three or four rotpunkt attempts and each of them ended feeling a bit pumped and not wanting to commit to the above the bolt climbing after the crux. However, get this - all of this faggotry was followed at the end of the session by a totally clean top rope ascent. Which proves quite clearly that my mind is my biggest limiting factor. Its a good route for me, Obscene Toilet, because it personally presents a challenge. Clearly, I am physically able, but I get the fear. Conquering it will be a milestone in my personal development.

On wednesday last week I posted about being in Sean's roof with Constance Variable, Freewheeler and other southern chap whose name I confuse. Nice chap. Anyway, I captured some footage of dark horse Variable face planting from the end of Sean's roof. Thought you would be interested, so here it is:

from dobbin on Vimeo.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Here be sieges!
29 July 2010, 7:13 am

Last night I opened my account on Mecca. Reasonable nic at the tor, very dry - bit of a breeze. Mecca. First bit is easy. Clip the third bolt - easy easy. Then the fun starts. People say there are no hard moves, and I can see why you would say that, but there are no easy ones either, and certainly no rests. I have a wack sequence getting into the bottom of the groove, and I am struggling with my feet. And my head. For me to do this route will be a real personal milestone. Not just in terms of grade, but in terms of going for it on the lead. Like surfing, it left an impression, and I find myself musing what could have been and where I should've stood. Basically, I'm pretty keen to get back on it. Although at this point it feels a big leap to believing I could do it, I can also concieve the notion.

"You're here because you know something. What you know you can't explain,  but you feel it. You've felt it your entire life, that there's  something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's  there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. It is this feeling  that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

The character Morpheous in the Matrix

You're thinking about it because you've felt something. Why you bother you can't explain, but you feel it. You dont know why, but its there, like a splinter in your mind, driving you mad. It is this feeling that gets you to the crag and makes you punish yourself...

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Mecca - day2 - backwards
2 August 2010, 8:23 am

I had convinced myself I could do it. Because, individually, the moves feel ok, so you can conceive of the notion of being able to string them together. I can pull on at any point and be able to climb somewhere out of it (although not yet to the top), so its easy to make that leap to being able to do sequences. A doubt creeps in - these moves feel tough on their own, will you really be able to do them on the link? But I am a big believer in hope and positive thinking, so I try not to allow the doubt room to grow.

On Saturday I get back to the previous high point, but really nearly slip off making the clip and get the fear. Although its because I have fumbled my feet, its given me the willies. Manage a new link from the third bolt to the groove, and rehearse some methods of gaining the feature.

Char fares better, falling off actually going into the groove.

I know what I have done wrong, and I know what I plan to do when I next get back on it (weds).

Source: The Blog of Dob

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failure club
5 August 2010, 6:54 am

First rule of failure club is dont ever set yourself a goal you might actually do. Second rule of failure club... Actually, stop - this is overly negative and only based on a joke I bandied around last night - along the lines of these training camps people go to for personal development needs, I could run failure club - advanced lessons in never getting up anything!

Day three on Mecca last night. Brrrrriliant route still. Brrrrrrrriiiillliant moves - just a bit beyond me, and a bit scary. First go on and I get to the crimp jug beneath the groove. Feels like I'm really trying though, and I'm struggling to envisage getting there with enough left to actually do anything with the aforementioned feature.

Read this - indeed a good scene. I had bought Nedwina and Dylmong, then Stu and Jules turned up, then a very smart Mr Robinson. I'd give him a job! Ned goes on Mecca - does really well - flashes to my high point then gets confused by the myriad footholds. Theres no question that he could do Mecca if he wanted to, but like me, I think the sketch skip clip run out at the top doesnt really appeal. I know its irrational, and actually - some of the lurching around on the rope is starting to pay dividends - I feel a little more comfortable. Have to remember - its just climbing - stop thinking about it...

Dylan gets on Body Machine. It looks hard, scary and too high for me to contemplate. He works it all out, covers the ground but comes back down knackered and I think he might be harbouring cat aids. Ned and I bully Edlog onto Mecca. He does well, clipping the third bolt and then getting stumped by a million glassy edges. Jules isn't climbing. Stu is. He's going to do Revelations. Its the first time I've seen anyone do 'the move' and I totally think he's on it it, but it turns out the rest of the route isnt as straight forward as I thought it would be. Am hugely impressed, but hugely put off by the 'arse emptying run out' (copyright Rupert Davies, 2004) to the chains.

Notice that all the routes I have ever done have been short power challenges. I dont claim to be brave, I never said I was some bold hero - routes for me, provide an entertaining diversion during the summer months - I don't want to run it out high above the ground - I want to do hard moves! Anyway, back to Mecca, and I finally manage to make the egyptian work. This makes the move to gain the groove 3a. I come back down but have no pain threshold left and thats me spent. To be honest, the rate of skin depletion suggests inideal conditions. An expert later confirms as much.

Nedlog goes on Hubble bubble. This looks well hard. He does some moves, but not others and whilst I have no reference to say this is good or bad, I can see how you could justify the building of a replica in your cellar.

A fun evening. Much quoting from the power of climbing - which is surely the backbone of any successful evening out.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Nemi Call
9 August 2010, 9:04 am

Stop what you are doing! Stop going to the Tor, Rubicon and these other perma dry crags because the Cheedale Cornice is dry! Yes, its a good job you read this blog, as you wouldnt have realised otherwise, but it is indeed true. The Cheedale Cornice is dry. And very good actually. Foley always said that it was badly bolted and scary. This served to put me off a bit, but actually what Foley was being was a master of propaganda. He didnt have time/will to go down there so he sewed the seed of fear. Propaganda really was all it was.

Which of my friends can be coerced into saturday morning sessions? Hmm. Ed was away, Foley had just been on nights, Dylog doesnt get up before 11. Ned will do, but under duress and was going to his brothers. Hmm. Not looking good I thought. I could get back on Staminaband I thought and then, like a bolt from the blue it came to me - the glistening thighs of Rob Smith! there lay the answer. One of my oldest friends, and one with drive to get his rippling torso out of its pit early on a saturday. A volley of text messages exchanged and a 9am meet at the tor arranged.

We made a four which was perfect. Me and Alain, Rob and Tim. Warmed up at the Tor and then went down Cheedale. As Rob had said Cheedale I'd initially felt disappointed not to be back on Mecca, but realised it does you no good to singlemindedly stick to one thing, and besides I hadnt been down the cornice other than on foot, so with mounting excitement we slithered into the dale. People had kept telling me to get on Nemesis, and that I would love it so that was ultimately the goal. Usually when people say that its like a kiss of death - you know the 'right up your street this, youth' saying. Usually means get shut down, spend 15 years trying to do it.

Alain and I start on Spiders from Mars - 9b+. Scruffy would be one way to describe it. But fun. Its high! Rob and Tim scuttle Nemesis wards and Alain and I go on Clarion call. 'A bit intimidating' my host says, and then casually wanders up it placing the draws. Joe and Vics turn up, and I get tied on. The 'crux' is about 3b, but above it theres a balancey run out section, and I decide I am too pumped to go up and ask for Alain to take. He refuses, Joe and Vics plead with me not to gay out, but I dont want to commit above the bolt. So, I climb back down - yes, reversing through the crux I rumble back to the ground and sit for 10. The next go I race through and get stood up on the balancey bit above the lip. Its about 3b. Glad I didnt wimp out I rumble through to the biggest rest in the world and curse myself for not having the balls to have just gone for it. Still, thats it now and I thoroughly enjoy the rest of the route.

We finish and move on down to Nemesis. What a wild route! As we approach Rob is questing through the headwall, and when he stops climbing announces a new link - from the hard bit to the top. He's psyched, and it looks good. Rob and Tim dispense with beta and I think i manage to fall off the first move on my flash go. The next goes are increasingly better until i stick the move between the two crimp jugs, but then fluff the next bit due to lack of beta. I work something out on subsequent goes and I am dead keen to get back there.

I pack up and Roy arrives to crush Monumental. First go of the day he falls off going into a hole which looks to be at about half way. If nemesis is wild, then this is the beast of bodmin moor! Awesome, and inspiring watching the terminator in action. I leg it back out of the valley, to sheffield and then the train to meet the monster in Manchester - its our first wedding anniversary. Doesnt a year pass so quickly! (actually, its today was the day we got married a year ago).

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Nemesis2
12 August 2010, 8:17 am

Zippy actually looked quite upset when I bounded down the road towards him. Me, on the way to the Cornice? surely the planets are out of alignment? there must be some disruption in the flux? yep, fraid so - Nemesis had hitched its skirts and showed me its garters on Saturday, and I was salivating in a distinctly unsavoury manner (well, in so far as this allegory works).

A good thing about Nemesis for the Mecca aspirant is that its still a power endurance challenge, but its an easier one. Again, there are no really hard moves, but theres no mega bucket jug rests either. My celebrity belay protege was coerced into joining in, and it was with good reason, as he had done it on Friday, so he had lots of useful knowledge to impart. Not that it was required, as the first ascentionist was on hand to take the piss and roll his eyes as only Keith can.

My team also included the mighty dr pinch. His might was tempered by error, which started with a bradbury belay stripping episode atop spiders from mars, and ended with a burst blood vessel stopping play on his first go on Nemesis. Which is a shame, because I would have put this firmly within his realm of possibility.

So its all down to me then. First go is good, I get through the hard move left, up to the finger jug and then make the clip. I feel boxed! lurch and shake into the pocket and sidepull and fail from there, not knowing what to do. For me, a lot of the fear comes from not knowing what is above. Once I know what holds I have to expect and where I will be able to recoup a rest, i am more likely to try going for it. The top is easy, but I expect to fail there a couple of times. What a brilliant route though! cant wait to get back on it.

We went and looked at the Nook - jesus. This is log. Theoria is without doubt the best thing there, but the craglet as a whole is pretty offensive. Although I appreciate the length.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Like, totally differential dude
23 August 2010, 10:25 am

First day back to work is always hard. You have loads to catch up on and the harsh reality of not being able to please ones self all the time or be a surf bum are all too real. Still, the sausage machine wont turn its own handle :

Been away for my birthday and a weeks surfing. Continued exposure to this most challenging and fickle of past times has improved my performance from incompetent total beginner to incompetent total amateur. It seems that the other people in the water range between 'barely competent but kitted out' and 'suprised they havent drowned yet surf school lemmings'. There are loads of these! Croyde is rammed with them. I turn myself around and prepare to start paddling for a wave to realise the nose of my surf board is pointing straight towards the grinning rictus of some surf school goon looking gormlessly back at me, unaware of the jeopardy they are about to face. I am barely in control here mate, I might be slightly better than you, but dont think I can steer or anything - if i get up and you are in the way - you are going down! Anyway, them aside - Surfers Paradise campsite, and Croyde in general is ideal for a group. First session in on the Friday - blown out and fairly log, but glad to get in. Few very short rides with no power.

Saturday started with rain and again - rubbish waves, got in anyway - had a go on a mates long board - cool - when you get the barge moving if feels like you could wander around and or go for a cup of tea on it. Pretty log overall surf report though. Evening we go for dinner in hobbs bistro - total disaster. Those who dont surf have been drinking all day and are mortalled by the time we get there. There are 13 of us supposed to be eating, but the table doesnt really have room. People start moving tables badly and dropping cutlery and generally being a nightmare. The Honey monster and I are mortified and want the floor to swallow us up. It doesnt happen, but the owner does come and bollock us. 7 leave to eat elsewhere, we placate the situation and attempt to rescue the evening. I drink too much in an effort to numb the pain. It doesnt work, but does make me very ill the next day. Very ill. Which was the day when the main group headed home. She and I were moving to Woolacoombe to meet Ed and Colette. It was hot. I wanted to die. Ugh ugh ugh. Deeply unpleasant. New campsite very nice, surfers is fine for a group for a weekend, but is basic facilities (although great location). Thankfully there were no waves, so I wasnt missing anything.

Monday - my birthday - 34!!! the new team excitedly zoom off to the beach to check the sea and its totally, utterly flat. Like a millpond. I am disappointed. Legend is that Ed Robinson is a quiet surf beast, and I want to see the evidence, but he escapes having to demo his rad and sick manuveures as there really is nothing doing. We console ourselves by buying things in surf shops and then go for a massive walk to Putsborough and to perv at the nice houses. Beautiful day. We later attempt to kill children with an aerobie and break our necks on skim boards before going out for tea in Mortehoe.

Tuesday is a different kettle of fish. The end of the world in weather terms. We awake to downpour and decide to go back to bed. Poor ed and colette have to pack up in this most hideous of rainstorms. The sea is still flat. We go for breakfast and then to Braunton for him to attempt to buy reef boots. He fails. They bail back to Sheffield and we feel depressed. We go to a national trust property (arlington Court) (we are members), and have a cream tea. Then drive to Barnstable to go to Pizza Express to cheer ourselves up and watch a film - its still raining. The film we pick looked good on the trailers, but oh my goodness - its not in the flesh. The last airbender. We both knew from about 30 seconds in it was going to be seriously log, and it didnt disappoint. Sheeeeet! this is possibly the worst film i have ever seen. Except fox and child - that we walked out of, but then we were unlimited film members at the time - when you pay for it, you'll sit through it. Anyway, impressively log, but passed the time whilst the bad weather was about.

Wednesday - surf! huzzzah! blown out at Wooly, better at Putsborough but needed time to develop, and blown out at Croyde. Bought her a 7'6" foamy and had some lunch in Sandleigh gardens at Croyde - lovely. Back to putsborough, and we go in (at last). I leave my board in the car so we can have a bit of a me helping her session. She gets loads better, nearly gets to her feet but suspect my bad teaching and not really knowing what to do is part of the problem. I have a go on her board and feel like a hero! the thing with foamy's is that you can ride them in nearly no waves, but they are harder to get out as they are so buoyant. I go and get my board and have a ok session. Get some good rides in and even start to be able to bottom turn.

Thursday we get woken up by a noisy family next door. How is this different to a group of adults at the other end of the day? Suppose the adults should know better, but annoying nonetheless. Consequently, by 0900 we are packed and in the car on the way to Wooly for breakfast. Theres something happening in the bay and it looks reasonable for the first time since we arrived. I steam in with a greasy bacon butty swilling around in my gut. As seems to be the norm for me and surfing trips - the best session of the trip is my last one. I dont want to come in, but feel quite sick. Am turning and trimming and getting some reasonable length rides in. Feels like I could do this -but I feel well sick. Push the feeling aside for another one last wave and eventually have to come in for fear i might spew in the line up. Good thing about North Devon as opposed to Cornwall is that its much nearer,  on the drive home all the landmarks you are used to it taking ages to get to seem to come up fast. Which magnifies the effect of it feeling not too far. Its good to be back home! I like our house.

Make it to the Tor on Saturday. Join team Twyford and get back on Obscene Toilet. Feel strong but really unfit. And skin hurts.

Sunday she and I go out for a bike ride. ONly on the way out of Bakewell it feels like the car has run something over - like theres something stuck in the wheels or similar. There is no sign of anything so we stop and call the AA. They reckon diff or gearbox trouble. Grrreeeaaaat!!!!!!!!! Get recovered back to somewhere in bradway that does recon ones and cycle home. So did get a bike ride, but not from where we wanted to go to.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Tickets to the gun show
24 August 2010, 9:19 am

Sam called me over to his office. I trotted over and walked through the door to find him stripped to the waist curling a dumbell, counting "1001, 1002, 1003..." etc. Wow I thought. Gotta get me a ticket to the gun show. Team Gun's lead member was flecked with paint and positively bulging out of his vest. I scuttled back into my corner.

Monday night means board night. Its good. I am getting back into it, although its hard - one must be accepting of ego death if one is to leap forwards. At the moment, its a challenge just getting to the top! Stu arrives in the gayest outfit i have yet seen - white and blue sport capri pants and sky blue crocs. Such a strong look for such a strong guy. His torque steering front wheel drive power propels him to the top of the board, feet barely glancing the jibs. We exchange Clifford legends and wonder whether, like his initial namesake Tommy Caldwell - he pushes people off mountains with nine fingers just to avoid paying a ransome.

Nurse! medication please! Dan Varian itis has taken hold! (talks in riddles that one). Quiet unassuming nice man Hutchmeister proposes he is weak but locks casually up the board. I dont know if the works has installed special beefcake lighting, but everyone looks 'cut'. I dig into my bag and extract my bicycle pump - a little more inflation required in the muscle vest me thinks. I have compartment failure and only manage to increase my paunch. Team Paunch is born.

Gus bounds over. Jeeeeee-sus. The heavy artillery has landed. Team Gun is complete, and the two of them lurch around all bulging musclators and grins. Its sickening. Whatever happened to pale stick men with a far away hungry look in their eyes?

Car update - took the keys to the garage and explained what happened. They reckon its common on the 1.9cdti vauxhall engine with a 6 speed box. And the reason/problem is because its a five speed box which has had a sixth gear bolted on. This falls off into the gearbox and requires the whole thing to be replaced. Thats probably whats wrong with me. "Not much change out of a grand", for a second hand box. Thousands for a new one. I will get it replaced and sell it.

So, Adam Long. I want to come to Abersoch, I want to go surfing, but I dont know that I will have it back by then. Basically thats the thing. And then even if I do have it back, I might go and trade it in!

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Which Climbing Wall?
27 August 2010, 7:37 am

The Foundry or the Works? They are both great walls. Going elsewhere makes you realise how lucky you are to have these top class facilities within the city limits. The Foundry Shop is better, but the music and coffee is better at the works. Of course, these are peripheral things - what about the climbing? Obviously, the Foundry gives you the opportunity to go up high, but the works has a better board. The steep bit of the wave is better than the comp wall. The Foundry has Justin Plumtree, the Works - Squiff. I would have said the Foundry is a better wall for training on, but then the works got the board. The Foundry feels more like a climbing wall, whereas the works is lighter and more airy. But this is a double edged sword - the reason for this is the windows which let the damned sun in.

In summary - you dont choose one or the other - you need to go to both. Of course a lot of whether you go or not depends on where it is and whether its on your way home, personal preference and basic economics.

I'm proud to reveal that I have been working with the Climbing Works  team on a host of new developments which will take it to a new level. I  cant say too much at this stage but to give you a flavour of whats in  the pipeline - the central bit of the wall is going to be converted into  a swimming pool beneath a section of retractable roof, which will  include a swim up bar, with heavily discounted spirits for full members.  

Back in the real world, the car is still off the road - which means I am  driving this shitty Prius thing around (on loan from work). Not only is  it rubbish to drive, but it is seriously ugly. And, not that much more  efficient than any other car I have had. The most efficient car I've had  was that a3. Anyway, whats gone on with the car? well, as discussed -  the old box is scrap. The problem is that there are a lot of this car  out there, and they are all failing about now - so second hand ones are  in heavy demand. I spoke to one chap who had one in scrap for just 10  minutes before it sold. Vauxhall are running out of new ones too. New  one is guaranteed for a year, and with no prospect of being able to  source a second, thats what I have gone for. £1200 for the box, about  £1500 all in (ex VAT). If you have a 1.9cdti vauxhall coming up to 45k -  and it isnt broken yet - sell it! well, sell it if its your own.

Magic Seaweed reports mega swells around at the moment. Paul Reeve got in up in the East on Thurs, but said it was so big he couldnt even get out the back at Cayton!!! Jeez! I cant imagine him being weak, or unable to paddle, so it must have been epic - and the forecast said just 4ft. It says 10 for Monday! Stu complains that other people are diversifying, and that it makes him feel inadequate. I compare him to the other great non-diversifyer - Keith. We agree that surfing is a lot more palatable for the non climbing other half, but as he doesnt have this problem, so he doesnt have to distract his focus.

Anyway - looks good for surfing this weekend, and Ed log is back, so I might get another chance to drown!

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Diesel Donkey
2 September 2010, 7:52 am

Failure, error and generally dismal performance all round really. Perhaps bad performances come in threes, and in which case I should be awesome the next time out. The first error was in going to Rubicon last saturday. It was boiling. I tried and failed to make progress on Beluga, it felt hard and it made my hands hurt. Edlog tried and failed to do the Sissy.

Saturday night we went to the pub to meet Rob and Helen, Dan Cheatham, Dave Pin, Edlog and his lovely wife. Got fired up about surfing Monday. Drank beer. All good. Sunday blah, Monday - up early to look at webcams for the north east coast - majorly log. Very disappointing. Messages go out, noones going, recommendation is to leave. Go back to bed.

So we meet instead at the board for an awakening. Its further drubbing for the ego as a struggle to even get to the top. Go home crushed. Plans for wednesday brighten heart, but on Wednesday its bright of sky too, and hot with it.

Neddy arrives at 12 and we set off over the snakey :

Theres discussion about whether to start somewhere other than the less than lovely roadside boulder. Ultimately because of diesel power we decide we cant be bothered and get stuck in. Its totally still and about a thousand degrees. Pulling on rapey edges in the full sun is not helping.

We get on Diesel Power. He does the first move and falls off. I fall off. He does the first and second move and falls off. I do the first move. He does the first, second, third and fourth moves and then falls off. I fall off. He keeps getting to the end, even getting a hand over the top but doesnt manage to finish it off. He is cross.

Lizard log. James Foley recommended this as being a steep wall on good crimps. He neglected to mention it was rapey. We wade through a bog in flip flops to get there, then its a total midge fest and the problem itself has had its holds replaced with rasps. We both flail about for a few minutes before the midgeing gets tiresome and we head down to Jerrys. At least it has a nice view.

He's on Pools and I am on Mr Fantastic. I cant remember how to do the transition move - as in, where to put my feet. Plus, my hands really hurt now and swinging around on the grips is not helping. He is launching himself wildly towards the road and grappling manically at the porthole before crashing back to earth. I remember Pete's foot beta and pass it on. He goes backwards at first but eventually starts making progress, so much so that by the time we leave he's had a couple of goes where he stuck the shothole and actually looked like he was going to do it.

I dont deal in negatives. Life is too short, and besides theres plenty of negativity out there, so I try instead to focus on the good things that happened. Although the above is a pretty paltry display of climbing pedigree, I note a couple of good things - on saturday I managed to get back through the caviar start - In the sun - good effort. Plus, I got from the floor to the jump on the sissy on my first and only go - again, this felt good and is a reasonable link. Monday, I did rabbis and bagels on the board, and i think we were both moving ok. Yesterday, I was lapping jerrys - four times to the end, just got a bit of the fear - this is just getting used to bouldering again - no problem. And, I did two moves on Diesel power - with better conditions - who knows!

So there you go, pick your boots up and get on it for gods sake!

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Penelope Pitstop
10 September 2010, 8:27 am

There is a school of thought that says that the moves you try when training should be so hard that you can barely do them at all, that you should only just be able to string two of them together. There is mileage in this argument, but its boring. You dont get chance to actually do anything, and I dont like it. The boys all do this (ned, dan and dave) and it does seem to yield results, but I actually like to be doing stuff. So rather than trying a single dead hard move ten times I do sequences of considerably easier moves less times - perhaps just once! 

When the depot board first opened it was way too hard for me. Then they put on resin footholds and people (the ones who are too strong) said it had been ruined. Most of whom have now come round. I think its brilliant. One of the genius bits about the wave at the Foundry is that you can do a problem with hands for feet and smears, then you can do it just hands for feet, and finally - just on smears. Three problems on one set of grips on one bit of wall. Caters for all. This I discovered with Dave Barrans at the depot. Man, chief Wiggum got strong, and ripped. Blimey. To be completely honest, I wasnt just substituting foot jibs for resin foot jugs, but I was also having to use the bigger bits of the holds where he was on the monos. And I still wasnt keeping up. 'Get 'em boys...' 

Saturday morning club yielded a return to Mecca. Still brilliant, terrible conditions. Feel sure that the egyptian way is that which I will be able to use to get into the groove. Just an incredible route. Funky climbing. 

There's been a lot of stress in our house of late. She has a hard time at work, and her aunty was about to go into hospital for a hopefully life changing, but terribly serious heart operation, so on Sunday out we went for a bike ride to clear our heads and unwind a bit. It was brilliant and as we pootled around Derwent so we could feel a bit of tension ebbing away. There ended the week. Well, with a roast chicken anyway. 

The works board is now coming back into season. I went on Monday and started to feel the movement again. Man, its so physical. Problem is that the window right next to it makes it really hot in summer, and although those grips are wooden, they go slippy in the sun. So, good session on Monday. Invented some new problems, but back to the point a few paragraphs ago - I dont set dead dead hard problems, rather ones that i know i will be able to do in a few goes. And this is the thing with me, i like to be able to be climbing rather than trying moves - so I perhaps dont push as hard as I could, but thats because I want to be climbing! Anyway, so that was the last chance I got because then we went down to Brum to see her aunty in the critical care unit of the Queen Elizabeth hospital in Selly Oak. 

Blimey. Nothing prepared me for that. We said to each other on the way in that we should be prepared for her not to look well, but seeing someone you know with all the pipes and stuff going into them is well shocking. She was heavily sedated and I wouldnt have thought knew that we were there (it had only finished in the operation that morning, something like 6 hours in theatre) but we tried to sort of talk to her anyway, hoping that familiar voices would be soothing. Feels wierd talking to someone zonked out, i mean, I will ramble on at anyone for any length of time, but you keep being overawed by the machinery and beeping instrumentation surrounding your loved one. Phew. Stressful! 

I miss the next day as I get stuck in London. We went again last night, and this time her eyes were opening a bit and she was moving around, but still really vacant. This was again shocking, and I felt more so than seeing her zonked out. I suppose you can rationalise someone after an operation being out for the count, but seeing them with their eyes open, but clearly zombified really sort of shook me I think. I carried on rambling to her and all was well. Then her care team started telling us about her day, and that she had a number of heart episodes where her heart rate had increased sharply, but then settled down again and I could feel myself starting to go... I went to tap her (the monster) to tell her I needed to sit down, but things were escalating faster than i thought and the next thing I knew i was on the deck with a nurse in my face shouting my name. I was so confused, I didnt know who this woman was, or why her face was inches away from mine! Then the monster called me and I got my bearings, I started to come back to life. Man, what a wierd an unpleasant episode. Having it happen in the critical care wing of a hospital meant I got shipped off to A&E where they did blood sugar, heart rate, blood pressure and even an ECG - nothing wrong with me. Hey, but get this - resting heart rate was 44bpm! check me out! (I was nearly asleep). So, I think it was a combination of having a stressful few days, not sleeping properly and being well tired, not having eaten for a few hours and feeling overwhelmed by relative and all this crazy serious news about her condition. God forbid what happens when or if we ever have babies!

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Sunday Driver
13 September 2010, 8:00 am

My problem is that I think that driving should be fun. Actually, the problem isn't that driving should or shouldn't be fun, it's that cars can't take 'fun', and they explode if exposed to too much of it. In just 24 hours the top gear team ruined a BMW 330d by driving it at its limit on a track. Even if you are only driving the car to 70% of its capacity, consistent use at this level will drastically foreshorten the lifespan of the car. Perhaps these people who boast starship mileage on vehicles wear driving gloves and warm the car up before rolling off the drive.

When I first got that Astra I hated it. I'd attached significance to having a nice car. Not because I wanted you to look at me and go 'ooh, look at him, nice car' - no, because I wanted to sit in a comfy nice seat, and be able to have FUN. All the problems start when you attach fun to driving. Owning the Astra has been an interesting experience, as its educated me that a car is a utility, a luxury which facilitates my lifestyle. What I need to keep in mind is that its a means to an end, rather than the end in itself. And, to possibly moderate my driving style. I have to say though, I honestly dont think I go that fast. The thing is, there are two ways to look at it - either I have been terribly unlucky, or the commonality is me and I need to change?

Its back anyway, with a new gearbox. As was pointed out to me at the wall on Friday (thanks Bunting), that I have paid out £1640 and its in the same state as it was before. Its not like I have made it faster or anything, it just works. Still, having it back is liberating, and I made use of it to go to the tor. Smells of oil in the cabin, but drives lovely.

Good scene at the tor. Caught up with Ed Brown at long last, and discussed fainting with everyone and anyone. Plenty of people also had fainting stories, and all agree I am a big jess (mini update on Aunty Susan condition - she is having physio already - from hooked up to ventilator one day to doing exercises the next. Incredible). Char did well on Mecca, climbing from the ground to the top of the groove. It looks like he could do it quite soon, and with temps only getting cooler, I would argue the chances are going to be good for an ascent this year. That said, he looked broken when he came down after this mega go, and people tell me they got to the last moves many times before it yielded. Much is discussed regards sequences. I change mine again, he sticks to his. I get set up to go to the groove but hesitate and dont do it. This is progress, as I have never before gotten set up for the move. It was almost like I get there as automaton and then awake from the sequence trance to find myself eyeballing the groove but unsure how to actually gain it. Obviously, I fall off.

Foley gets on Rattle and Hump. He really nearly does it, and after refining and updating and making silly errors it all looks like its on, but skin gives out before muscles and he has to admit defeat. Mike Adams nearly does Keen Roof. Tom Sugden proves he is the strongest man alive by locking the smallest of holds, and Joe and Vics berate us for swearing, and for inappropriate use of offensive slang. I have previously thought about this, and meant to do something about it, but its become habit. When I say I am a gaylord for not doing something well, the implication is that it is in some way a bad thing to be the lord of the gays, when actually I have nothing against whomever that fine figure might be, but its become vernacular, slang for bad, and my habit to use. Habits can be broken as well as formed, so must try harder Morton. Ben Pritchard is sporting mountaineering facial hair which he has used to store food on Strone Ulladale.

Foley and I go for a cup of tea in Hathersage, and a dangerous look around the shops. I think I want a Patagonia gillet. Manage to walk away empty handed and head back to Sheff to do jobs and watch some of the Hurley Pro surf comp at Trestles in California. Realise if I had been a proper surfer I would have been a free surfer rather than a comp king. Although it does suggest a nice life to go all around the world just going surfing. I think I have started to realise that actually surfing isnt about a routine of tricks, its about making the best out of the wave that you have caught. All the things they do are to maximise the ride they get from the wave. Very interesting to see just how clean the surf conditions are, which highlights quite how bad it is here! At the end of this week, she and I go to Islay surfing for four days. Checked MagicSeaweed this morning, and on Wednesday this week, it shows 22ft swell! 22ft! (12 seconds period), but also 52mph winds. So not so good. Thankfully we wont be there for that, and it looks better next week.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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Quick thought
3 October 2010, 7:58 pm

When I'm there I think about the negative things. How hard it is, how my arms and shoulders hurt, how cold the water is, how I can't breathe, how getting tumbled over in my attempts to get out make me feel sick, but now that I'm home I just can't stop thinking about the glimmers of brilliance. When, for a few seconds I actually felt like I could do it, these are few but shine so bright, that even though I remember the struggle so clearly it makes me just want to go back there and try again. Someone once said that if something is worth having then its worth working for and the things which matter most come hardest of all. And that's surfing. It is fucking desperate. And so frustrating, but so utterly brilliant. Like a shining light, its brilliance a beacon in the darkness. I want it and yet I don't, the ease of climbing so appealing, compares to surfing which is to struggle, but so fleetingly incredible. When it works it works so well.  

More tomorrow. Possibly.

Source: The Blog of Dob

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islay
5 October 2010, 8:29 am

It rained all the way to the Lakes. The M6 north has to be one of the most picturesque motorways in the country - perhaps topped by the M74 which it becomes when you get a bit further up. And, there's noone on it. Glasgow looked damp and busy. I craned to try to see Dumbarton rock (is it just above the a82?), and onward, sloshing northwards through the rain we went. The scenery passed in a blur, the novelty and excitement now but a memory.

Finally we arrived at Port Tarbert which was to be our base for the evening. We'd driven all day, and booked in to a B&B overlooking the harbour. There was some sort of music festival on in the town, and so after tea we investigated. Raucous. Bet it would have been a good weekend - folky music and lots of beer from the looks of the revellers. It'd been a long day and we didnt stay late.

The next morning we caught the Calmac ferry from Kennacraig across to Port Ellen on Islay. Takes about 2.5hrs. Beautiful crossing - you are always in sight of land, and its pretty stunning land, so most of the time was spent on deck scanning our surroundings.

Islay is a beautiful island. Its characterised by small pebbledashed villages connected by bouncy roads across peat moors. Port Ellen (where we landed) is very small network of buildings and a bit underwhelming. We went straight to the hotel to get the keys to our lodge thing. This was a recommendation from the footprint surf guide, and I'm sure it said that the hotel was 'smart'. Tired would be a more appropriate description. Initially disappointed, we felt like we were staying at butlins. So out we went to find both waves and the prospects of staying somewhere else.

Our lodge sat at the southern end of a long stretch called Laggan Bay. The footprint guide recommends it because you have only to wander across the golf course and you are on the beach, and whilst tired it was clean and we had everything we could have wanted. Plus, if you were on a surf trip with all boys it would be more than adequate. Oh, and it was cheap by islay standards.

A wierd contradiction exists on the island. If you live there and are local then you have either retired and have money, or you are one of a number of young families and you probably live in what looks like pre fab concrete council accomodation - albeit in a spectacular setting. We quickly discovered, on our quest to better our accomodation, that bijou commands a price premium and that what we had would do for us.

The island is bigger than you give it credit for. You see if on a map and think its only wee, about 15 miles from end to end, but its probably about 20 miles from north to south, and if you drive from the two points of the U (its U shaped) then you are looking at a hours drive. Bowmore is the biggest settlement, and even that is wee. Mark McGowan had recommended Machir Bay, so after a look around Bowmore we headed off in search of that. In the furthest flung, most remote of corners sit the distilleries, which are in the most improbable of places. BUt what an amazing place to work!

The most striking thing about being on Islay, and particularly in contrast to Devon and Cornwall is that theres noone there. We park up at the road head, and run across the dunes to see whether its worth getting in. It is, but only just. The monster decides she cant be bothered, and I paddle out alone. Catch a few waves, get some reasonable short rides and head in after about an hour. Not the greatest surf session ever, but having done all that driving, I just wanted to get out.

The rest of the trip followed a nice pattern - there would be a bit of surfing, a bit of doing something else, a lot of whisky drinking and even more eating. All separated by spells zooming from one end to the other of the island.

So, on friday we were back on the Ferry to the mainland. Port Tarbert felt like a conurbation after such small pockets of humanity. We loved it. The remoteness - the tranquility - it was wonderful. From a surfing perspective it was only ok, but I had fun, and got some little rides in on 4 out of 5 days. The return jouney was long and epic, and it felt good to finally be back home. We would recommend Islay, but I would suggest that if you are not going with any specific activity in mind then you could do it in a couple of days, and then hop on to another one and continue your tour.

Anyway, been rambling on for ages now. Better do some work.

Source: The Blog of Dob