[siderunner]

"that last paragraph is the most condescending post I've ever read."

I apologise. My language came out all wrong.

That post was written in the spirit of addressing myself. A few years ago I ditched a decent yoga studio because they got us to spend 10 minutes doing breathing exercises at the start. I've since enjoyed those same exercises, in different circumstances. And I think I missed out on a good teacher as a result.

I agree there's a lot of hippy bollocks tied up around yoga. Some of it is also tradition (albeit of debatable age, reading some critical sources). I personally am happy to indulge the latter for a few moments out of my hour's class. That you are not is obvious :-) and of course entirely your own prerogative.

As you say, peace.

[a dense loner]

and fucking.

[Moo]

if all of your head space is in your own head dense....................................... you have fuck all head space

[a dense loner]

Exactly, no room to think of nothing

[comPiler]

Learning to Enjoy the Fight
8 June 2015, 3:19 pm

This year has gone so fast, I don’t really know where to start. I started the year by going to India for a month – see previous blog – to learn to teach yoga, give myself a break from climbing and to generally reset a bit.

When I came back in February, I had always planned to hit the ground running, so to speak. I knew what my goals were and I had bags of renewed psyche and motivation. After doing Mecca Extension (8c) last autumn, I knew I was keen for more sport climbing and I knew I wanted to start on another project. I had already chosen Bat Route months before when I saw Adam Jeeworth sending the route the previous summer. There is something really special and inspiring about watching someone’s work manifest in that way. The climbing looked amazing to watch and it had a glowing reputation as a brilliant route…the seed was sewn immediately.

First though, there was some unfinished business….Austrian Oak (8b). I had tried the route in the summer and feeling full of positive vibes, I was hoping I could finish it off quickly and move on to the joys and excitement of working on Bat Route….ha! Get down, ego!! That was not to be. Austrian Oak was not going down lightly. It was hard mentally because, although I loved trying Austrian and it is truly great climbing, my heart had shifted to a new goal and I was very distracted. It became somewhat of an epic, a few steps forward, and a few steps back…but eventually, after more sessions that I can remember, I managed to clip the chains. In some ways I had to refocus and let go of Bat Route to get the Oak done; I had to make sure I was giving the route the respect it deserved. Grades are so random and subjective; for me, Austrian Oak was bloody hard and tested me physically and mentally. I had to accept that and only then, when my ego fell away, was I able to finish the route.



Austrian Oak (8b), Photo Penny Orr

Moving on to Bat Route felt great, after a stressful redpoint battle, it felt so fun just working out moves and feeling it all gradually coming together. That’s definitely my favourite bit, the working out stage. No pressure, no expectations, just problem solving and moving about on rock.

Bat Route starts up a route called Seventh Aardvark which is quite technical and comes in at 7b, then the tempo changes and you have a hard powerful boulder problem on undercuts through a roof (grade is often debated but it’s at least Font 7B+ (boulder grade), if not a bit harder, in my opinion) before a really good knee bar rest. Then the magnificent headwall gives you a mixture of bouldery moves and crimps to get stuck into and it’s a bit of a race against the pump as soon as you leave a rest. I worked the boulder in the roof to begin with as I knew this had the hardest single moves and would be the key to the route for me. Then I began doing links, in route climber style! I even did the boulder problem to the chains (so everything without Seventh Aardvark) before beginning to red point.

Working Bat Route (8c), Photo Jordan Manley

Once on red point, the struggle for me was doing the boulder in the roof from the ground. I made minuscule progress each session, one hand movement or sometimes only a foot movement further! To keep my sanity, I kept telling myself I wasn’t on redpoint, just trying the link from the ground to after the crux….;)

Recovering in the knee bar after the crux, photo Jordan Manley.

I eventually got through the crux from the ground and then things speeded up massively. The day I did it, I really wasn’t expecting it… I was pretty tired and it was my 4th go of the day, which isn’t usually my strong point. It was only on the last part of the headwall that it dawned on me that I might do it. After some power grunts and mousy squeaks, the main hard climbing was over but there is still a section above the last bolt – it isn’t hard compared to the rest of the route but it’s not 1a either. When I got to that section I looked up and there was a mini waterfall of run off coming down on me; my hands, my face, everything was getting wet! Looking up, the very first part of the last section was dry but there were a lot of wet holds higher up (not just the juggy ledge but some smaller holds before it were soaked too)! I genuinely thought I wasn’t going to be able to finish it, that I had essentially done it, but was probably going to leave empty handed.

The very last section of Bat Route – this was all soaking wet the day I did it! – Photo Jordan Manley.

Pure psyche for the send got me up the wet rock and I was in happy disbelief at the chains. I had thought I was far to tired to do the route that go and maybe that helped a bit; expectations and nerves fell away and I was able to just enjoy the fight.

That was my biggest learning point actually – learning to enjoy the fight. The first time I got through the roof crux to the knee bar, I didn’t want to leave the rest! I was nervous about having got that far and then messing up the next bit, my expectations and nerves were making me not want to keep climbing. I shouted down to my friend who was belaying me to say I was nervous and he just yelled: “enjoy the fight!”. It really resonated with me that day and has stuck with me since. It is a basic way of looking at things and I often hear people say “enjoy the process” but for some reason that phrase always felt more annoying than anything….it’s hard to enjoy the process sometimes, but I do enjoy a good fight (in climbing…)! It made me realise that I wouldn’t want it to be easy or feel like a forgone conclusion; the enjoyment comes from engaging in a battle with yourself and the rock.

And my god it was a good fight! But I won eventually

Last but not least, one of the best things about this year’s Malham season has been the people…the shared psyche, the support and the friendship. Thanks everyone, you know who you are!

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

[comPiler]

Waterval Boven and Wow Prow
22 October 2015, 4:02 pm

Sitting in Johannesburg airport with Katy as I begin to write this, I’m wondering how I can best sum up the trip we have just been on. For the last month we have been sport climbing in South Africa, near Johannesburg. To give an overview, we spent two weeks in Waterval Boven, the third week in Wow Prow down in The Free State, and then the final week back where we started in Waterval Boven. It’s hard to believe this trip was born in our minds about a year ago. At that point Katy still had a desk job and I was just shifting my sights from bouldering to sport climbing. We saw online videos of Paige Claassen and Sasha Diguilian putting up FAs in Wow Prow (Digital Warfare) and Waterval Boven (Rolihlahla) respectively and we were stunned by the look of the rock quality in both areas. A plan was hatched.

Initially I was keen to try Rolihlahla in Boven but on arrival it was clear that there was so much else to try and, although I tried some of it briefly, my attention was taken elsewhere. I could go into specific routes we tried etc but I think that makes for a boring read so I’ll talk more about a theme that stood out for me and let some pictures show the climbing. But if the pictures are in anyway ambiguous….the climbing is AMAZING. If you get the chance, GO. Both Waterval Boven and Wow Prow are incredible in different ways, I highly recommend making the trip.



 Katy climbing Rustic Brownie by the waterfall, Photo Alex Haslehurst

Before I begin rattling on, a small disclaimer….while on this trip I was reading a book about the history of philosophy…so I may be guilty of ruminating on things a bit too much and over analysing experiences.

The theme that stood out needs a bit of background – although we had planned this trip far in advance, Katy and I didn’t feel in our best shape whilst here – Katy due to a long term back injury that is making her call deeply on her patience, and for me…. well I’m not so sure, maybe being a bit burned out just before coming on this trip. I have a tendency to overdo things (I can hear the chuckles of those who know me), and I trained perhaps a little too much in the weeks leading up to the trip, only resting before we left because I had all my wisdom teeth taken out (not very restful I now know…). So, with that in mind, we both had to slightly alter our expectations, Katy in particular (turns out spines are not very forgiving if you don’t listen).

Right so my theme is the presence of two very different kinds of fun on a climbing trip. Bear with me. In no particular order:

Type 1: Goal achievement, in this context redpointing success. Adrenalin filled, euphoric feeling, release of endorphins, fulfilment of a goal. A sudden sharp emotional spike that lasts…well it depends, but 20 mins – a few days usually.

High adrenalin, trying hard on Godzilla (8b) – type 1 fun when I clipped the chains! Photo Nick Brown.

Type 2: Silliness. No achievement/climbing association, release of expectations and attachment to success, very simple silliness and present moment fun based on interaction with immediate surroundings and people. Hilarious, childish and not self conscious.



 Swinging around at Wow Prow, Photo Alex Haslehurst.

So, both of these types of fun are great, obviously. What became clear to me was that performance isn’t that important. It’s fun, of course, but there are other more long lasting forms of fun to be had. Don’t get me wrong, I love trying hard and setting goals and achieving them, what I’m saying is that we learnt on this trip to be flexible and accepting of what felt possible and letting go of what didn’t. Simple idea really and it may seem obvious to many, but as with a lot of ideas, it’s easy to think about and hard to actually live by. Of course type 1 and type 2 aren’t mutually exclusive, however too much focus on 1 may reduce levels of 2 but equally no goal focus will restrict type 1 as a desire to fulfil a goal must be there to cultivate motivation to try hard.

So yet again it all comes down to balance. The climbing was incredible, we had an absolute blast, both clipped some chains and both have unfinished business to return for. But my most cherished memories are the silly moments, the banter, nicknames, sandstorms, giggles and knowing that we are extremely lucky to be doing what we’re doing.

A massive thank you to Andrew Pedley for all the advice and for help with access to crags.

On to the next trip…..



Trying hard on Digital Warfare (8b+), one to come back for Photo Nick Brown.



Katy trying Death Camp (8a+) at Wow Prow, Photo Alex Haslehurst



 Twinkle Toes, the brilliant slab with jugs on it! Photo Rob Greenwood.



Monster (7c+), one of my favourite routes of the trip. Photo Nick Brown



One more of the Waterfall! Photo Alex Haslehurst.



Katy looking like a total hero on Death Camp (8a+) at Wow Prow, Photo Rob Greenwood

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

[DAVETHOMAS90]

Great photos - looks amazing. 

And thanks for the introspection 

[SA Chris]

My old stomping ground. At lower grades obviously.

[comPiler]

2015 – A YEAR OF NEW THINGS
4 January 2016, 7:54 pm

When I wrote a blog in early 2015, I was recollecting how 2014 had been a year of changes and adjustments. So I suppose it’s only natural that 2015 feels like it’s been a year of new things: newfound direction and interests, new challenges and new priorities.

I don’t know if it’s just me but I feel like time has got a little out of control. The hours and days zoom past and I find that it’s all of a sudden a new month, and now, to my shock, a new year. So, before 2016 gets away from me too, here are some new things from 2015…..

NEW THING NO. 1

It was almost exactly a year ago today that I landed in India with my yoga mat, a bundle of nerves and excitement. I wanted to spend some time away from climbing and focus on learning a set of new skills. I had no idea how much that trip would shape the rest of my year, I didn’t know if I would even like teaching yoga, if I would be any good at it or if anyone would come to my classes. I was pretty terrified of people coming to my classes actually. Part of me would advertise a class and then pray that nobody would turn up.

Luckily, after the first few classes, the nerves subdued to a good level of anticipation and I settled into teaching and holding a space for people and I began to love it.

This felt like a huge new thing. I love climbing and being given the opportunity to climb professionally is a dream, but I have always felt uneasy about the privilege and the inevitable focus on myself. I wanted to find a way to give back some of my time and my energy to other people in a meaningful way, but until last year, I didn’t know how. Now I feel like this is the beginning of something that I can really put my heart into alongside climbing.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo Rowanne Bennett

NEW (ish) THING NO.2

Route climbing focus! Until 2015, I have been primarily a boulderer who dabbles in route climbing. But last year, sport climbing was definitely the focus. Having done Mecca Extension (8c) in 2014, I realised that I could do the fitness thing and decided to widen my horizons when it came to climbing. I came back from India and went to Oliana ready to start my 2015 climbing with some fun Spainish routes.

Even now it makes me chuckle when I look back. I hadn’t anticipated fear being such a big barrier. When I look at the climbing media, I often think I must be the only person that gets gripped by the fear of being above my bolt. It’s totally irrational, I know I’m not going to hurt myself but there it is, this surge of gut wrenching fear. It makes me freeze; hesitate, even down climb sometimes. In Oliana, it ruined the climbing element of my trip. I couldn’t push myself physically because my head was holding me back. I felt so silly!

Luckily, back in the UK, the bolts are not very spaced out at all and it meant I could climb with less fear and get bolder gradually. If you’d asked me in Oliana, I would have said I felt the fear was an insurmountable problem. Now, I can say it is always there a little bit but I have learned to push it away gradually and control it. The key for me was to not jump in the deep end (Oliana felt like the deep end). In the Spring of 2015 I climbed Bat Route (8c) which felt like a real milestone, as my second 8c it told me the first wasn’t a fluke, I was actually a route climber!

In the autumn, Katy Whittaker and I ventured on two trips, first to Waterval Boven and Wow Prow (see blog) and secondly to Red River Gorge. In terms of fear, Waterval Boven was a great trip. I managed to send Godzilla (8b) relatively quickly (for me) and I found myself skipping quick draws on the crux headwall to save energy. In Oliana I would never have thought that possible! If you struggle with fear when climbing, have a listen to the audio interview on Hazel Findlay’s blog where she and I discuss the ins and outs of fear.

However, there was also another learning point during this time (beginning really from after I did Bat Route) – while focussing on fitness, I had lost a lot of bouldering strength. I found that I could recover well on good holds but my pure strength had decreased and with that my anaerobic capacity had also plummeted.

Hmmm….back to the drawing board.



Climbing on Jesus Wept in Red River Gorge (Photo Marc Bourguignon)



 

Another shot from Red River Gorge (Photo Eddie Fowke)



Battling irrational fear in Oliana (photo Rob Greenwood)

NEW THING NO. 3

Strength training is hard. This is obviously not new in itself but I have discovered a new side to it. In previous years I have trained very hard but my body has felt responsive, moulding into good shape for climbing. The sessions were bloody hard but the results were clear. There was a linear demonstration of cause and effect for my motivation to cling to. This year, it has not been so clear and, as a result my motivation has been a lot more up and down.

After sending Bat Route, I had some well earned down time: reduced activity, loosening my restraints, eating more chocolate etc etc. In my mind, I thought I would easily spring back into shape in a matter of weeks. Ha! It was a massive struggle. I put on weight that I struggled to shift but tried not to put undue focus on, I felt exhausted from sessions; I worked really hard to see minimal gains. After the trips in the autumn where I was climbing most days, I came home feeling like a shadow of my former self! I was reasonably fit but weak.

So I have taken a deep breath and committed once again to training, this time more structured and with the help of David Mason and Alex Barrows. I am trying to be more mindful of the process so that my motivation doesn’t require outcomes too soon, I’m trying to be compassionate with myself so that I don’t fear having time off again. And, very importantly, I am trying not to compare “now” to “before”. For whatever reason, maybe motivation, maybe age, maybe a more diverse focus, I am finding it harder than I used to. But that is just how it is. It will be more of an achievement now than it ever was before, because now it is more of a fight.



 

 Working on my game face and chisel grip in the cellar, photo David Mason

NEW THING NO. 4

I learnt to ski!! I’ve never skied before, I tried boarding once and spent 3 days just landing on my bottom! Skiing came a lot easier and I spent a lovely Christmas skiing all day everyday with my family  :).



So, lots of new things and lots learnt. Looking forward to more new things in 2016! I’m starting this year by heading back to India…..

Happy New Year everyone, have a good one.

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

[Fiend]

Smart lass 

[comPiler]

Trying to see things as they really are….A blog about Vipassana and climbing.
6 April 2016, 3:33 pm

The last blog I wrote looked back at new things I had experienced or discovered in 2015 and now starting this one it feels as though I could just continue in the same vein.

So far, 2016 has also been a year of new experiences and new perspectives. I started the year by going to India. Originally the plan had been to spend a month climbing in Badami or Hampi with Katy and then to head to Trimurti Yoga School to do an internship to develop my yoga teaching further. Unfortunately, after our trip to Red River Gorge, Katy’s back was in no shape to embark on another trip, so the climbing section got cancelled. I was left with a gap in my travels and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to do something that had been on my mind for a while: learn the Vipassana meditation technique.

Vipassana is a type of insight meditation that draws from Buddhism, although it is expressly non-secular making it an accessible modality for anyone and everyone. It literally means “to see things as they really are”. I had come across Vipassana in many avenues; my uncle practises regularly, my aunt and my mum had studied under S.N. Goenka in India in the 70s it turned out, some of my cousins had done the initial ten day course and over the years I kept meeting friends who had learnt the technique. Everyone told me it was valuable; some that it was life changing and all of them said it was hard work!

It seemed a perfect fit, it’s possible to learn the technique anywhere in the world but as I was already going to India it made sense to do it there. So I signed up to a Dhamma centre in Chengannur, Kerala and that was where my trip started.

I know this is predominantly a climbing blog and I seem to be going off on a tangent here but I promise it’ll connect up…..I have realised that there is a lot to learn from other practices that informs my climbing

So Vipassana. I thought I was mentally prepared, I knew it was going to be hard; I hoped it was going to be fulfilling and eye opening. It was all of those things but I underestimated the “hard” bit. I mean, I REALLY thought it was going to be VERY hard but it was probably one of the most difficult things I have consciously, decided to put myself through. To give you an idea of the course I’ll set the scene and then go into some of the concepts briefly.

It’s ten days. It’s totally silent (no talking, gestures, eye contact, reading, writing, music…NOTHING). The day begins at 4.00am and ends at 9.30pm. In that time there are 10.5 hours (yes, HOURS) of seated meditation. There is also a 1.5 hour discourse every evening. Food at 6.30am and 11am and a snack (!) at 5pm.



 

 The meditation hall

I won’t go into too much detail on the teaching (you really need the ten day course J) but the basic practice involves observation: firstly of breath and then of sensations in the body. The course begins with a focus on the sensation of the breath around the nostrils, which helps to develop concentration and the ability to feel subtler and subtler sensations. This is then expanded (after three days) to full body scans; observing sensations, be they heat, cold, pain, tingling, itching etc.

Now here is the hard bit: maintaining equanimity. This means observing everything from a position of non-judgement, not labelling anything as “good” or “bad”, not craving the nice sensations or developing aversion to the not so nice ones. Just watching them without reaction. This is really hard especially when experiencing pain (which as you can imagine is very present when sitting on the floor for ten plus hours a day). It’s hard not to hate the pain.

So developing equanimity is a big part of Vipassana but it makes more sense in the context of impermanence. The reality of: everything that arises will at some point pass. Bad times will pass, good times will pass, pain will pass, emotions will pass, life will pass; it’s all a natural process. I found that (and this goes for a lot of what I learnt on this course) I understood and accepted this on an intellectual level, but to understand and learn it experientially through body sensations was a totally different kettle of fish.

The last main concept I will mention is the illusion of “I”, the dissolution of the ego. Of course this doesn’t happen in ten days but it is an interesting idea that shifted my perspective to a more detached place. Everything, to a certain extent, loses its importance. It’s quite liberating to realise how insignificant we are in some ways. I must stress that a level of detachment is different from not caring. It is a position where all outcomes are embraced, where there is little craving and aversion, where one is able to step back from being a servant to the ego and can make more balanced decisions for the good of us and those around us.

Essentially, I began to more deeply understand one of the more famous things said by the Buddha: that “expectations are the root of all suffering”. I’m certainly not enlightened or liberated yet but I feel like I “get it” a bit more. As humans we expect so much. From ourselves, from people around us, from the world in general. There is a lot of entitlement around (myself totally included in this). We constantly look to external things to make us happy and fulfilled, when in fact; we are the ones in control of our happiness. We can decide how we react, what we expect and how happy we are.

This was very liberating for me but also very hard to swallow, as there is nobody else to blame for anything anymore.

So…..it took me a while to get to climbing but I imagine you can already see how it fits in: expectations of performance, expectations of ability, ego, confidence, shame, entitlement, fear, anxiety etc.

I could write a book on it…hmm maybe there’s a future in that….

So, after the Vipassana I went and did a lot of yoga and teaching yoga and also lots of fingerboarding, rings, pull ups etc. I was in one place for a month and it was great to focus on very basic training and to use that time to land in some of the things I had learnt. I didn’t come out of the course totally transformed but I came out of it with a taste of something really special and an extremely valuable technique that I can use in a longer term way to be more happy.

The training I did for those five weeks after the course was great too (even though it was about 35 degrees!!), no climbing at all, just rings and fingerboarding. I realised how weak I was when you take away my heel hooks and how much I could gain from some basic strength training.

 

 

 

 



 



Now I’m back in the UK and I’m more psyched than ever for climbing. Malham season is upon us and I find myself trying a really hard route. Putting aside the ego played a big role for me in even beginning this process, having the confidence to even consider that I might be good enough, opening myself up to the possibility that I may try and not be good enough. Being okay with publicly not being good enough.

I find putting expectations to one side is a daily hurdle but I think it’s a worthwhile exercise. Imagine if all the energy we put into worry, expectations, fear and doubt could be channelled into just moving on rock? That’s what I’m attempting to do now: I’m trying Rainshadow with as little expectation as possible for me at this time. I genuinely don’t know if this route is realistic for me, if it is it will most likely take some years of work. For now, while I am enjoying it I will keep trying it. Physical challenges aside, it is a really interesting process for practising detachment, managing the ego and trying to see things as they really are.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Evening view from the Malham catwalk

 

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

[Mumra]

Apparently yoga is no good for climbing

[Fiend]

Very interesting post (Mina's, I mean..... ). It's nice to see such a high profile and high performing climber writing about such things. I am sure yoga could help a lot with my climbing.

[Footwork]

the basic practice involves observation: firstly of breath and then of sensations in the body. The course begins with a focus on the sensation of the breath around the nostrils, which helps to develop concentration and the ability to feel subtler and subtler sensations. This is then expanded (after three days) to full body scans; observing sensations, be they heat, cold, pain, tingling, itching etc.
 

Imagine teaching this to a room of hypochondriacs. 

[comPiler]

Australia 2016
15 September 2016, 7:08 pm

Going to Australia was always going to be more than just a climbing trip. I mean, they have kangaroos for goodness sake. To me, that’s the stuff of cartoons: childhood, Disney-esque images coming to life. It was a shock to find out that, as a species, the kangaroos seem pretty suicidal. Driving in the Grampians can be pretty terrifying due to their inability to move backwards (rendering retreat pretty impossible) and seemingly distinct lack of desire to live. But still, they have built in pouches to carry their babies and, apparently, they can actually halt a pregnancy if conditions to give birth aren’t right. That’s ridiculous, enough said.



So, now that the excitement about kangaroos is done, let’s chat climbing. We settled in Wartook for our stay, a small cabin at the “Happy Wanderer” and we were very happy there indeed. Nestled in the North Grampians, the infamous Taipan wall was in our stomping ground, as well as plenty of bouldering. The South Grampians and Halls Gap bouldering wasn’t too far and Arapiles was a short day trip away (with the added luxury of some kind of Horsham-based café hit for cake). So we were set. David was psyched for boulders of his dreams that have been on a mental (and probably written down, perhaps even on special paper) life tick list for eternity and I was frothing at the thought of trying historic, infamous routes like Punks in the Gym at Arapiles and Serpentine on Taipan Wall. I was psyched for bouldering too but, having spent the previous months training a lot of fitness, it would be an understatement to say I wasn’t sure how strong I would be in the pebble-hugging department. It felt like a bit of an unknown but I knew, thanks to an overwhelmingly boring amount of aerobic capacity training (thanks Barrows – I am grateful now, I promise), that I was relatively fit.

So, early on in the trip I went to have a play on Punks in the Gym. At that point I was mid way through Andy Pollitt’s book, not quite at the Punks bit yet, fighting the urge to skip forwards and hear his take on the route and all the shenanigans that went with it…and “that hold”. Punks in the Gym, although bolted by Martin Scheel is a Wolfgang Gullich route. His first ascent put up what was then (in 1985) perhaps the hardest route in the world at grade 32/8b+. The “hold” in question has a blurry tale to it that varies depending on what you read and who you ask but essentially there was some breakage followed by re-building, resulting in a rather odd “birdbath” hold in the crux sequence that is quite out of character with the rest of the rock on the route. Some feel it ruins the climb, for me it told a story of human history on the rock. Yes, it is a bit ugly, but the rest of the route makes up for it with immaculate rock and funky, interesting movement.

Punks in the Gym (32/8b+). Photo: Ross Taylor So, drawn in from the first session, this was to be my project for the trip. We actually struck a really nice balance, going to Arapiles twice a week for me to try Punks and bouldering the rest of the time. This system meant that David was my belay bunny on his rest days and it also meant that I bouldered quite a lot too, in fact surprising myself by getting up some relatively hard stuff. The weeks started to fly by and I got closer and closer, my seventh session spent falling repeatedly trying to get my foot in the birdbath hold (this was definitely the redpoint crux for me). I was beginning to worry that my focus on this route was going to cost me the chance of climbing on other things, going all the way to Australia and just projecting one thing. I’m sure many people have and will do that but I didn’t want to. I guess I’m greedy, I wanted Punks but I also wanted time to climb on other stuff too. Luckily, despite being a bundle of nerves (the kind you get when you know you can do something) on my eighth session, I tied in and climbed the route. Like often happens, it felt fine from what I can remember, which isn’t much. Those flow moments are what makes climbing so special. Though a seemingly nerve-wracked nutcase on the ground, as soon as I stepped on everything melted away and there was just movement, breath and rock. So psyched, definitely a lifetime tick that one.

Punks in the Gym (32/8b+). Photo: Ross Taylor It seems Australia is full of lifetime must-dos (or at least must-trys!) and very soon my route climbing based attention had shifted to the mighty Serpentine on Taipan Wall. Although Serpentine comes in at 29/8a, a good notch below Punks, the challenge was very evident in the nature of the climbing, the wall itself and everything that went with it. To the seasoned trad climbers among you it may seem like nothing extra but, for me, the exposure, the run outs, hanging belay and the mixed nature of the protection all added up to quite a mental challenge. I’ve never been fearless even on bolts, the fact that this route was a mixture of bolts and trad gear, along with some pretty hefty spaces between, gave me jelly legs.

To my absolute delight, when we rocked up to try the route, it was already fully equipped. Wonderful. My nightmares of trying to fiddle in gear on unknown territory with serious space below my feet were quashed and I breathed a sigh of honest relief. My first session was brilliant; I loved it. I felt relatively fearless actually and did the route in sections to the top, basking in the sun on my way. Deciding to come back another day to finish it, I left on a total high.

Funny how things shift! I’m gradually learning about fear and one of the things I have gathered over time (and was sternly reminded of here) is that when my body feels good and strong and fit I can surprise myself and be pretty bold. On the flip side, if I am tired, run down or just having a not so good day and don’t move well or trust my muscles to fire when instructed, I turn into to a scared little mouse. Seems obvious right?! Well, I felt like I was learning it for the first time on my second time up Serpentine. I hesitated, said, “take” all over the place and generally went up the route just to have a good old wobble. So much for going back to finish it off! I left it for the day, unsure which experience had been a true reflection of what was possible, the first day fearless Mina or the second day puddle-like version.

Selfie at Serpentine belay ledge. After that I stalled going back to the route, I put it off a bit until I woke up feeling fresh and psyched to take it on. We went back and first go I managed to get through to the headwall only to mess up a sequence and pump out. I was ecstatic, my fearless self was back and even if I didn’t do it that day, I knew I had it in me. After a decent rest, at the end of the day I redpointed the route. It was perfect in some ways, the golden evening light on the headwall as I climbed and the sun began to set. I’d like to day I climbed it gracefully and flawlessly, and perhaps some sections I did, but the very last section gave me some jip. I messed up the foot moves and, with the top of the wall a single hand move away, I was forced to reverse some moves! I thought I’d blown it, but thanks to Barrows and his boring aerocap, I recovered and made it to the top. A spicy finish to a fantastic route, I sat on top and looked at the view. An amazing moment. Then I heard a tiny voice from below: “Well done!…..ummmmm my legs are numb, can you come down??”. Massive thanks to David for belaying me, a hanging belay is not a boulderer’s first choice for a rest day I’m sure! Pizza and beer were quick to fix that, I know how to handle these things.

A keen belayer, honest! So with my main goals achieved, I spent the remainder of the trip pretty chilled, doing other routes like the classic Eye of the Tiger (8a) and surprising myself with a flash of Monkey Puzzle (7c+) – I’m generally not great at flashing/onsighting so this was very nice.

I really got the bug for bouldering back this trip too, I’m keen to work on getting more basic strength to progress again but was happy to bag a few 10s, 11s and a couple of 12s, including a last day send of Nalle’s Silver Platter – climbed in-between rain showers after sitting on a rope shielding the top holds from the rain while Dave told me I had lost my mind…definitely pays off to be keen!

Silver Platter (V12), Photo David Mason So, all-in-all, an amazing trip! David also got almost all of his dream tick list completed and we are about to head to New Zealand for two weeks of bouldering at Castle Hill/Flock Hill areas…can’t wait! Massive high five to all the brilliant people we met and hung out with, climbed with and ate good food with – you know who you are!

Gripmaster (V10), Photo David Mason. This one was really hard for me!! So You Think You Can Dance (V11), Photo David Mason David on highball Obelisk (V7) David crushing Ammagamma (v13). One of the biggies on the dream tick list. Leviathan (V11), Photo David Mason

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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New Zealand, the land of camper vans and seriously big hills.
14 October 2016, 6:15 pm

It seems strange to be back in Sheffield already. I’m sure many experience this (and I’m sure I have when returning from previous trips in the past): the sense of an odd time warp having taken place. We looked forward to this trip for so long, it’s the furthest either of us have travelled for climbing (or anything for that matter) and in our minds it was this huge event on the horizon. We trained hard for it, planned it meticulously (I’ll be honest the planning was mostly Dave) and looked forward to it immensely. It didn’t feel like it would ever be time to actually GO on the trip…..let alone come home from it!

Having said that, I also love coming home. We had an amazing time but I think it is a sign of how much we like where we live and our friends here that, when the time comes, travelling home is almost as exciting as going away. Plus, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed!

Our last two weeks of climbing were spent in New Zealand; both the landscapes and the climbing were extremely different to that in Australia and it was perfect for the end of the trip to have new sights and new challenges. The views were totally stunning; the only way I can think to describe it is the Lake District on steroids. Just like in Australia, the local climbing community met us in New Zealand with incredible hospitality. This special trait of our sport never ceases to amaze me. Castle Hill has a guidebook but Flock Hill, where we were hoping to climb the most, hasn’t and it was only thanks to the generosity of the local climbers that we got many an in-depth tour!

We were also living out of a camper van at this point (it seemed everyone was, there are sooooo many campers on the road in NZ!) and so a particular thanks to local climber Joe who was a legend, keeping our hygiene to an acceptable level by letting us use his shower! Moving into the camper van initially felt a bit of a challenge but we soon settled back into the swing of van life and both realised how much we had missed the simplicity, the basic way of living. There was a beautiful detachment to those two weeks. No wifi and intermittent signal created a peaceful, slow and more present reality. We ended up as a little band of climbers: me and David, Adam Watson and Abbie, and Cliff. All in vans, with Pearson Lake as our home away from home, we found a rhythm to life in the hills.



We spent most of our time climbing at Flock Hill and it was really like no other place. Like Joe one day said: “It’s a little piece of heaven”. It really is that. The crag is relatively high effort to climb at lots of days in a row due to the steep 45min walk in but the sense of exposure, isolation and views are fully worth it. The climbing itself is demanding in a very unique way – lots of slopers, mantles, footwork, compression, highballs and body awareness. I thoroughly enjoyed the climbing; it was nice to do some high stuff again. Having said that, I did take a pretty bad fall on our first day at Flock Hill….. I unexpectedly spun off Sunset Arete (a beautiful V8), missed the pads and initially felt terrified that I had broken my leg! Luckily my ankle rolled and took the hit (along with some mega whiplash) and I was grateful to hobble around for a day or two before being able to climb again. Those of you that know me won’t be surprised to hear that I went back and finished the boulder (after doing the scary top on a top rope to avoid further danger). Always good to get back on the metaphorical horse.



So after a shaky start to our Flock Hill adventure, it was all fun and frolics from there on in. A ridiculous amount of sending from Adam and David was great to bear witness to! I loved the climbing but also found it somewhat challenging in the reach department. I hate calling reach but I think this is an area where it does make quite a difference. Most things are totally doable if you have a shorter reach (although there were some where I actually couldn’t physically span) but the style definitely made it harder. I realised how often I use intermediates or unusual sequences to climb harder boulders (and I’m not even that small); here the smooth limestone offers only the main event holds. At this point in the trip though I was totally happy to lower my grade and enjoy the classics; it was all about day sends and scenic picnics!

I’ll let you see the rest in pictures….

Mullet Arete (V6), Photo David Mason David on Thin White Line (V7), Wuthering Heights Disconnect Extra (V7), Photo David Mason David on Do Wrong by None (V6) 100 Times Slab (V3), Photo David Mason Another of Mullet Arete (V6), Photo Derek Thatcher Castle Hill with some threatening weather above! Obelisk (V9), photo David Mason

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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Mina Meets Godzilla – Waterval Boven Part 1
1 November 2015, 5:08 pm

Mina meets Godzilla

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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Mina Meets Godzilla – Video from Waterval Boven Part 1
1 November 2015, 5:08 pm

Mina meets Godzilla

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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Katy and the Snapdragon – Video from Waterval Boven Part 2
1 November 2015, 7:00 pm

Katy and the Snapdragon

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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Video from the Grampians
4 December 2016, 2:19 pm

Mina Leslie-Wujastyk in the Grampians

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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Video from The Valley of the Giants, Grampians, Australia
1 February 2017, 4:56 pm

Mina Leslie-Wujastyk in the Valley of the Giants

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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Video from Flock Hill, New Zealand.
1 February 2017, 5:00 pm

Mina Leslie-Wujastyk at Flock Hill, New Zealand

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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So much training….
2 February 2017, 12:32 pm

Since we arrived back in the UK after our trip to Australia and New Zealand, I have seen an awful lot of the inside of climbing walls. I feel a bit like I’m in Groundhog Day, looking up at the fingerboard and thinking – wasn’t I just here doing this? It’s all been thoroughly exhausting and a bit surreal. I’ve been at the mercy of Alex Barrows and David Mason; seems I’m quite the masochist. I’m approaching completion of four months of solid training with a few flurries on rock here and there. I’ve got around five weeks left before I start resting more, climbing on rock and seeing what has changed. Yep, Malham season is approaching.

For those of you who love it as much as I do, you will know the bubble of excitement I’m feeling that the spring season is getting closer and it’s nearly time to smear hopefully, grip holds that consistently face the wrong way, tense all the muscles in your body at once and squeal with the effort that this style of climbing notoriously demands. I can’t wait! Malham Cove is very much my happy place; even a bad climbing day is still a good picnic day on the catwalk.

Having said that, I am also nervous. I’ve put in some serious effort to get stronger. Endless fingerboard sessions, weightlifting (with awesome help from the guys at CPC), weighted pull ups, campusing, core workouts, board climbing and endurance based climbing is just some of it. I feel like I have done everything I can with the time available. But….what if it hasn’t worked? Or what if, after hours of toil, I’ve only marginally improved? I know I’m psychically stronger but by how much? And will it translate to rock? I suppose this is the risk one takes with big efforts and maybe I’ll never be good enough to climb the things I want to…… but you don’t know unless you try and, well, as a back up, complete failure is probably quite character building.

I’m playing the long game on this route. This spring season has bite size goals attached. I don’t envisage that any red-pointing will be happening, let alone any sending. I’m hoping for improvement, for moves to feel a little less desperate and links to be a little longer.

If nothing else, I’m gunning for the final Simon Lee versus Austrian Oak belay tick. Now that will be historic.

See you other keen beans on the catwalk soon!

Some training pictures and videos:



Fingerboarding at the Schoolroom



Endless therabanding



More fingerboarding…..



Lifting weights with the hero that is Jill Whitaker

 

Woodology at the Schoolroom

This was my project move on the board at the Climbing Works for some time – finally I can do it!!



More weightlifting….



Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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Projecting: Round one with Rainshadow…
27 April 2017, 4:26 pm

After a winter spent training I worked on Rainshadow for 12 sessions, about 6 weeks: it’s gone so fast.

Slowly piecing things together, changing beta, making progress, changing beta again, making a bit more progress… tiny adjustments, small concessions from the route. Trying to be fresh for each day at the crag, maybe in the process becoming a mild hypochondriac. Trying to find the balance between keeping strength and being rested enough.

Dieting. Again trying to find the balance, wanting to be light but also have enough energy to push myself. How to manage it? Simple calories in vs calories out? Ketogenic? Glyco-dumping the day before? Fasting? Or maybe carb-loading to make sure the fuel is there for the link attempts? Trying to do this and still keep a healthy relationship with food and body image…. now that’s a tall order.

And then there are conditions. Constantly checking the weather. Too hot, too cold, too wet…., some days perfect. Skin damage; split tips, epic bruising. Specific methods of taping; I found myself trying to saw my finger tape with a kitchen knife so it was small and light to fit in my chalk bag. The things we do, eh.

Ha and the main problem is probably over thinking it all.

The best bits? The moments when all those things fade away and it’s just you and the rock and it is hard but simple. The figuring it out, the breakthrough moments are so satisfying and worth it. The days spent in a beautiful place with such lovely people. Seeing other people make breakthroughs on their projects and feeling your own psyche swell with theirs to a new level.

Projecting is a funny old process. So many factors at play, especially when trying something at your limit. It seemed like to just make a good link I needed an awful lot of things to line up. There’s a clue in there somewhere. I need to be over-strong for this route. Gulp.

My goals this year were bite-size in comparison to the end goal of sending but they felt like big mouthfuls nonetheless. The main goal was to link the crux section of the route, to do the “boulder” that lies smack bang in the middle of the route. For those that don’t know Rainshadow, it is comprised of an F8a route (Raindogs) to an awkward rest before the crux boulder (estimated around Font 8Aish (I actually think potentially harder)), which then leads into a burly headwall of about F8a+. Getting the middle bit sorted was my main focus. I found the boulder really hard! It’s 12 moves (from the Raindogs rest to where it eases off) and it’s a proper battle unless you’re Steve Mcclure. Last year I had a wee play on the moves and could just do them in isolation and only just. So I had a long way to come this year to hit my goals.

I find it interesting looking back now at how my short season at Malham panned out. I got better and better until I peaked – two great sessions where I did big links through the hardest section. Then I dropped off the back of that peak with a heavy thud.

Those good sessions gave me such confidence, I felt like the route was actually possible for me. It was still going to be a long journey but one I felt was suddenly realistic and not just a far off dream. Three sessions later and I’m desperately hanging onto that feeling, trying to keep it safe somewhere. I went back for three more days at Malham and my performance went steadily downhill. I rested more but it made no difference. I was struggling with psyche; bruised fingertips, fatigue and I think an element of becoming de-trained. I lost my edge. So I’m taking a step back for a bit to re-group, get stronger and come back when the time is right with a vengeance. I think the key to this route is going to be bloody mindedness and long term psyche for all the effort involved….only one way to find out.

One of the best parts of the season for me has to be the car journeys up to Malham and the time spent on the catwalk. The conversational content now coined “The Malham Files”, would make great reading. From the latest training and diet experiments undertaken by keen Malham goers, to tall tales from the climbing community, current affairs discussions and everything in-between, it’s been a blast. Thanks to everyone in that special community for making it such a fun and interesting place to be, see you back there soon!



View from the catwalk

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk

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South Africa 2017
4 July 2017, 3:45 pm

I got a bit stuck trying to begin writing this blog; I didn’t really know what to write. In some ways this was one of the best trips I’ve been on, in other ways it was challenging and frustrating at times.

Great thing no.1: I climbed my first V13. As I wrote in my posts on social media at the time, The Pursuit of Happiness has had some mixed views on its grade, with some supporting the original V13 and some suggesting V12. I couldn’t do it on a previous trip and could do it this time so whatever the number I am really psyched. My suspicion is that if we were to add decimals it would be V13.1, but that is perfect, the first foray into a new grade boundary is always at the lower end and I’m happy with that. Setting aside grade chat, the boulder is incredible, pictures and video really don’t do this one justice! A proud line, beautiful holds and try-hard compression all the way. Loved it.



The Pursuit of Happiness, photo Jimmy Webb



This shot gives you more of an idea of the angle, Photo David Mason

This happened in our first week and I also managed to send Ard Ay (V12) the next day, another one left form a previous trip. All was going well and I was psyched to head to Rocklands to re-visit some old demons.

from mina leslie-wujastyk on Vimeo.

Challenging thing no.1: What I didn’t mention about this first week was that David and I both got ill… We still aren’t 100% sure what it was but all suspicions point to drinking bad water in Cape Town. We have drunk the tap water there in the past with no issues but with the country in a current drought situation this perhaps wasn’t the wisest decision. On the bright side, it was only diarrhoea, we didn’t have a fever or nausea or anything like that so we continued to go climbing! To begin with we didn’t feel that bad (I actually did Pursuit on day 3 of being unwell) but as you can imagine, we eventually started to get really tired as our bodies were not holding onto anything for long. It went on for 5 days for me, 10 in total for David who ended up needing antibiotics (amazingly the first course of antibiotics he has EVER taken!).

So the Rocklands section of our trip started off a bit shaky and, although we had a blast, the climbing parts didn’t really go to plan.

Challenging thing no.2: David and I were in a similar boat in Rocklands, we have both done a lot of the classics within our comfort zone of difficulty and were both hoping to be able to up our level. For me, there are loads of V13s to try and in particular I wanted to try again on The Vice. Despite feeling fine for the first few days of being ill, it took its toll and we were both struggling. I also really wrecked my skin in Cape Town – I’m usually one of those annoying people that always has amazing skin so this was a whole new experience for me and I can see why people find it so frustrating! I only had two sessions on The Vice before my motivation ebbed away. I was actually better on it than in the past but a combination of lack of energy, skin and waning psyche eventually meant that I walked away to try other things. It actually didn’t feel sad though, I felt really okay about it and was able to go and enjoy climbing on slightly easier problems.



The Section (V10), photo Nick Milburn

Great thing no. 2: People!! It’s easy to think that climbing trips are all about climbing but they really aren’t. They are also about the people that you climb and hang out with in all the other moments. This was awesome. David and I went on this trip with two close friends, Tom and Michelle and we had a blast. Between us four, Carol and Jess and Jimmy and Hannah, we took braais (BBQs) to a whole new level of feasting. From great climbing days to morning chats over tea to epic BBQs and long hikes together, these are the moments we cherish.



Basic Instinct (V10/V11), Photo David Mason

Challenging thing no. 3: Injury. I have never really thought of my lower back as an injury because it has been an issue on and off for so long and I manage it well most of the time. It’s very much chronic rather than acute and usually doesn’t hold me back that much. Luckily for me, it doesn’t hurt to climb; in fact climbing often makes it feel better. It’s the walking uphill with a heavy pad or rucksack that gets it. So much so that I avoid trips to crags with notoriously steep walk ins. It’s sad really, for example, I would love to go back to Ceuse but I’m fearful of the implications the walk in would have for pain and function. Some days in South Africa I would get to the boulders and cry, nerve pain reaching my foot. I would have to spend time stretching and moving to release the spasms before I could think about climbing. It was particularly challenging on this trip for some reason, which I wasn’t expecting.



Trying out some tape….

On a positive note, it has spurred me on to tackle the issue from more angles now I’m home. I was having treatment before which was really helping (I think being ill knocked my whole system and then walking tired is probably the worst idea!) but I now have more ideas on how to complement that treatment.

Great thing no. 3: Spending more time climbing in Cape Town. I love the rock on the peninsula; it is really fun to climb on. For sure, there is not as much as in Rocklands but there is still room for loads of development and the rock quality is incredible. We ended up leaving Rocklands earlier than planned to spend our last ten days back there and it was great; David sent Simple Knowing (V14) and I was able to put more time into Artform (V12) which was so fun even though I didn’t quite pull it out of the bag in time to go home.



David on A Simple Knowing (V14)



Cloverfields (V10/11), Photo David Mason



View of Cape Town lights on the walk back down from Topside

So, I think that covers it….the trip flew by and it honestly feels a bit strange to be home. We had an amazing time, both climbed things at our limit and you can’t ask for much more than that.

Bouldering for 5 weeks has left me pretty psyched to tie on…..anyone keen for Kilnsey??

Source: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk