[Doylo]

It's not that complicated. Less people are having a trad apprenticeship now as they're distracted with sport and bouldering, indoor walls and all this training business
.

.

As a result, if you measure impressiveness by the number of people doing it on a regular basis, then regularly on sighting E6 is equivalent to 8c+ redpoints in my book. But cooler.

That's because you've climbed 9a but are relatively crap at trad. The numbers are down because of the reasons I stated above not because it's the equivalent of climbing 8c+. For someone who's good at trad like Pete Robins onsighting e6 is a rest day whereas climbing 8c+ is a summers worth of stress and effort (and earache off his wife).

[Luke Owens]

(and earache off his wife).

 

[Stu Littlefair]

It's not that complicated. Less people are having a trad apprenticeship now as they're distracted with sport and bouldering, indoor walls and all this training business
.

.

As a result, if you measure impressiveness by the number of people doing it on a regular basis, then regularly on sighting E6 is equivalent to 8c+ redpoints in my book. But cooler.

That's because you've climbed 9a but are relatively crap at trad. The numbers are down because of the reasons I stated above not because it's the equivalent of climbing 8c+. For someone who's good at trad like Pete Robins onsighting e6 is a rest day whereas climbing 8c+ is a summers worth of stress and effort (and earache off his wife).

You misunderstand I think. Sure, climbing a single E6 may be a gentle day out for Pete, but to be able to go out and have a fair chance of onsighting any E6 requires a level of skill that very few have.

Whether that's due to a lack of practice or the innate difficulty of acquiring that skill is a different, but interesting question.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Fultonius]

In my experience Doylo's on the money - the current route into climbing tends to push more towards bouldering and sport. You see plenty of people who get to Fr8a or 7C within 2 - 3 years of starting these days (which would be unheard of 20 years ago, no?).

Whereas you don't see them jumping straight on E5s in 3 years. Especially not consistently onsighting E5 on different rock types and styles. Unless you're particularly gifted, it just takes a quite a lot of time and mileage to learn the skills of trad.

I wonder how the current results would compare to "back in the day" if you compared E5 trad leaders' sport redpoint grade.  i.e. would an E5 climber from the 90's have F7b "fitness"   whereas now they'd maybe have Fr7c-8a fitness?   Who knows.

My own story is maybe representative of the newer trend:

2001 Started climbing indoors
2002 first VS, ~6c (indoors)
2003 First E1 (sketchy!)
2004 Some more E1s, Fr7a+ Outside
2005 More E1s...Fr7b+
2006 First E2 then First E3 late on that year
2007 First Font 7A - l'oblique in roche aux sabots!  Mainly E1/E2 but scraped up an E3 at the end of the year which now gets E4. Lots of trad mileage that year, first Pabbay /Mingulay trip
2008 Started taking trad falls!  E4 second go.  More mileage on different rock types, climbed in norway. Still ticking off more 7A/+ boulders locally, first 7B at Dumby.  Did an E5 5c - tried to flash it after seeing it on abseil, then had for TRs, then climbed it.
2009 sport fitness still around the Fr7b mark...but 2006 - 2009 I didn't do a lot of sport. Big trip - 1 week on Mingulay, 3 in Lofoten, then 3 in Squamish. First multipitch 5.11b - freeway lite.  Looking back this felt like a bit of a breakthrough year. After the trip I did my first, super-sketchy and not in control E5 6b  (the E5 bit is not the the 6b bit), then got up my forst F7c+ sport route - so still quite a differential between RP grade and trad grade.
2010 car crash, destroyed my PCL/LCL/PFL in right knee.
2011 focussed on sport to get back into climbing, did my first Fr8a (albeit Scotland's softest...)  back to E3 ish.
2012 to 2015 - living the life of a Cham Trustafarian, climbing with aspirant guides etc....   sport grade plateaued at steady Fr7c due to lack of training/effort. Lots of trad/alpine  climbing - lots of improvement in technique and confidence.
2016 7 x E5s at fairhead/gogarth/slate/glencoe, one E6 quick headpoint and a Fr7c+. 

God that's a lot of detail to make a simple point haha....trad takes time and persistence to get better at; and even when your "objective fitness" doesn't change your trad abilities can keep improving.

I do reckon upping my sport onsight to Fr7b+ would make E6 onsight a lot easier...

[petejh]

It's not that complicated. Less people are having a trad apprenticeship now as they're distracted with sport and bouldering, indoor walls and all this training business
.

.

As a result, if you measure impressiveness by the number of people doing it on a regular basis, then regularly on sighting E6 is equivalent to 8c+ redpoints in my book. But cooler.

That's because you've climbed 9a but are relatively crap at trad. The numbers are down because of the reasons I stated above not because it's the equivalent of climbing 8c+. For someone who's good at trad like Pete Robins onsighting e6 is a rest day whereas climbing 8c+ is a summers worth of stress and effort (and earache off his wife).

Exactly this. It isn't complicated, you get good at what you do. There's no magic to being good at trad; or at sport, bouldering, alpine, mixed climbing etc. It's just time spent doing it.

My apprenticeship between roughly age 19-25 was probably similar to lots of others in the 90s/early noughties. Climbing 51% of the S, HS, VS, HVS, E1s, E2s and E3s in the N.Wales select guide (just counted - 212 out of 413 routes), all of them onsight except for 4 routes (pincushion, valour and tensor - all at trem!; and plumbline).
I didn't climb a sport route until I'd been climbing for around 4 years and I remember walking under LPT in my early twenties believing that grade 7s seemed an exotic world of advanced climbing and 8s a different planet (or Moon) entirely - one that I'd surely never visit.
Then I got into sport and got better at that. With having had a trad apprenticeship it wasn't hard to keep going with that as well and still progress with it, although more slowly.
It's so different now. People can easily go straight to sport climbing outdoors and onto 7s in their first year because there's a good choice of 5s and 6s to progress through, the climbs are a known quantity and are generally well bolted (you're welcome).The trad is still there for those who want to go tradding; the ones who want 'adventure^TM' still can - and now with the added boost of having easily-acquired sport fitness; and the ones who want an easy/quick option now can in most parts of the country, even Scotland (soon NI hopefully). The ones who want to willy wave about what they climb still can and do.

For most people time is in limited supply as they age, but also it seems youth today are more economically pressured than when I was 20. Everyone now has the option of sport, so they don't *have* to go tradding if they want to climb. It doesn't surprise me that lots of people opt for the time-limited 'easy' option - that's people, path of least resistance generally.

I don't get the impression trad is dying off - the level has risen and it seems like loads of people are still going out every weekend serving apprenticeship on E1s and above, rather than VS and above which was the norm 20 years ago.

It seems to me the people who get good at onsighting trad these days usually to be either young people with testosterone to burn trying to prove/establish themselves in some way; broke people with lots of time living close to good trad - i.e. students; people from privileged backgrounds with resources to travel lots and not work; or middle-aged 'live to climb' lifestylers (most with financial safety nets). Caff's a bit of an anomaly. And to continue tradding at a high level you probably need to choose to live very close to good trad ahead of choosing to live where decent work or a relationship might take you. Few people are prepared to make that sacrifice long term.   

As a result, if you measure impressiveness by the number of people doing it on a regular basis, then regularly on sighting E6 is equivalent to 8c+ redpoints in my book

I think (?) I know what you're trying to say, that in terms of number of people doing E6 os or 8c+ rp the numbers are similar? Because no way are they anywhere near comparable in terms of difficulty for a climber who regularly climbs both grade 8 sport and E5 trad.
If the numbers *are* close (which I doubt) than it'd just be because of circumstances and fashion than inherent difficulty. But I doubt that the numbers are even close. I reckon loads more people are onsighting E6 than rp'ing 8c+ - it isn't *that* rare despite what Caff's blog implies. I'd be surprised if the ratio of E6 onsights to 8c+ rp's per year is any closer than 10:1. Relatively few people are climbing 8c+ in the UK - and how many 8c+s has Caff redpointed this year (and previous years) compared to E6 onsights?

Trad is ace but I don't think it's any cooler or less cool than sport. A great trad route is great and a poor one is poor. There are far too many trad routes that are poor climbs; crap eliminates; and compromises littered with rusty fixed gear for trad to be blanket 'cool'. Just as there are crap, average and great sport routes.
The moves on Liquid Ambar or The Brute! But Rainbow of recalcitrance is an amazing visual feature. Apples to oranges. Nothing's cooler to me than the climbing on a good steep mixed route though.

[Doylo]

Agree with Pete. All I know is during my last Tradding stage I was onsighting E6s on different rock types and it took a further 12 years to climb 8c (although I probably should have left Wales and got on Bat Route  ). The routes i did ranged from runout 6c to well protected 7b I.e more than achievable for a proper tradder who's got a bit of stamina. It's not that hard you just need to do it regularly and work your way up (like anything).

[Tommy]

I agree - I'd onsighted E6 way before mid 8s sport climbs and I still think they're (bolts) way harder to do. It's just a matter of what's in vogue and what people are motivated by and share the "psyche of the masses" to help them. E5 and E6 OS are easy compared to those high end sport routes even if you factor in a bit of scare factor. If the UK climbers suddenly had some kind of change of heart and tradding became cool then I'm pretty certain E5/6 OS would be very very standard. Luckily it's entirely uncool and the biggest dorks are the ones playing around with their nuts and drinking in the pub pretending they never train.



 

[comPiler]

A post truth blog
22 February 2017, 2:02 pm

The mars one programme had seemed so far fetched at first. I couldn’t really believe people were going to commit to it and they would need to lack any form of sanity for even considering it. Imagine leaving Earth forever, never to see rivers, forests or friends again. To live a shortened life in small cabins buried under soil to protect from radiation. Lunacy...

​         I got to the base of the abseil and looked across at one of the most impressive sea cliffs in Wales. Calum had gotten down just before me and was warming up doing some 1 arm pull ups on a small crimp edge before slapping himself in the face to psyche himself up.

 We were there to try ‘the hardest trad project in the UK’, a free version of Giant. I led up and linked the first 2 pitches to a poor belay beneath the huge main roof. Calum came up and we stared out across the heinous, evil looking and loose roof. Calum eventually set off, placing 5 pieces of poor pro in the roof he set off on a horrendous traverse across the overhang,right foot heel hooking, slapping between monos, terrible slopers and micro crimps. Fifteen metres out from the batch of poor gear just before there appeared to be an easing he cut loose on some kind of pinch flake, with only 1 hand in contact with the rock he began to lock it in when suddenly, boom the flake exploded! We both screamed as he began his descent, down he flew in a huge falling arc like a ginger Icarus. After 40 metres of falling the rope went tight and my anchors ripped out swinging me out into space, we were both hanging off the poor pro, 2 bit ripped and as we both swung back into the rock we grabbed hold. We both scampered back to the belay and started replacing the remnants of the belay as best we could.

  Calum recharged with a can of red bull and after a short rest went for it again. Blasting across the roof to his high point he did a dyno straight into a figure 4 off a small edge, he was struggling and a fall from here would be certain death for both of us

“you fucking bastard caff you’ve let me down, you’ve fucking let me down”

“Just think of Gabby Calum and go for it”

After a few more curses he managed to reel in the fig4 lock allowing him to gain a small shelf and thankfully a good belay above the main ‘huge’ overhang. On seconding the pitch I thought it at least 8c on loose rock and certain death for both member of the party if the leader fluffs the end dyno figure 4 sequence. Thankfully my pitch leading to the top was a good few grades easier of E9 or so. We named the climb ‘The Giantest’ and thought even ethical Lleyn pundits such as long and bransby would have no cause for concern with the style of ascent which meant I wouldn’t have to throttle their friend Pete Robins to tell him how dead they are as another keen activist had been forced to do.      Calum showing the strain after the ascent        Cilan main       Next up was a month trip in Spain.

I was climbing with my good friend, Si o’ Con Gatkins. Arriving at Oliana I warmed up flashing Fish Eye, I always knew it wouldn’t be too hard as my mate Hazel had gotten up it and she normally just lazes about doing very little. After that myself and Si checked out the moves on Dura Dura, some of them did seem tricky. However the following day I managed to do it 1st redpoint. Chris and Adam obviously hadn’t done enough hard limestone routes, I missed out the 2 crux moves via a quantum, counter rotational ‘chalk and blow halfway through’ deadpoint, the rest was piss. Punters. Si just spent the day doubting that thing Nalle did was as hard as his own blocs and slagging off the guy who appeared in Blocheads alot as being weak as piss. He also put chalk on some real nano holds at the base which I presumed would form a near impossible but truly lame traverse.

 The main event came after a rest day. After climbing through the crux on the Dura Dura I broke right via a sustained sequence to join Papichulo at its crux, after doing this I broke right again into the crux of Pachamama before tracking way back left to take in many more cruxes on the wall. I’d gotten the name ready, the Dura Pachamodafuka face and possibly hard 9c. I was reasonably chuffed and as I was lowering off I expected a shout of congratulations from Gatkins but he just said routes were shit and didn’t have any hard moves on them. Cheeky bastard I thought.

  I retorted as I was being lowered telling him it had been clinically proven that people who climb routes are cleverer than boulderers, besides which it looked to be almost inversely proportional to ability, giving Doyle as proof.

​      Oliana   This must have hit a nerve as he almost dropped me the final 20 Metres and as I landed hard an altercation ensued. After his powerful first hits I thought I was done for as I was still blasted from the 9c but luckily the endurance jabs won in the end and when Gatkins was fully down I embraced my inner bastard and snapped his tooth brush leaving it on his unconscious body. It had become apparent to the other parties at the cliff that we were brits with the hateful behaviour making it crystal clear. I gave everyone a smile, pretending to be nice in case it effected any future sponsorship deals. Even the Tories who would have all terminally ill Grandmothers working 15 hour days, 7 days a week in Sports Direct until they drop dead were seen as normal in the current UK climate which was some consolation to me for acting like a sod.

 Whilst Gatkins lay moaning I updated my Instagram with some selfies I’d managed to take mid cruxes. When he came round we made friends again and after an hour I rechecked my Instagram and couldn’t bloody believe it, it had only got 500 likes, Hazel got 4 times that with some truly naff lifestyle pics. I put it on twitter as well, hoping nobody found it as vacuous as what two friends had been putting on it in the last year which was akin to a story about a real life Barbie and Ken.  

 Having gotten bored of Oliana we moved south to Santa Linya. Neanderthol, a 9b in the middle of it was the obvious choice and after a quick work it went first go, possibly the 3rd ascent as I think it got repeated by some chap called hacov sherbert but I’m pretty certain he used an inferior sequence, probably only 9a+. The other routes in the cave looked to easy to bother with so we left.

Arriving at Margalef First Round First Minute really suited my style so I did it much faster than the other 9bs, probably 40 minutes or so. I had to admit I was pretty tired after this few days of climbing so needed an easy day the day after so just did Era Vella. That guy J Christ was right about it, it really was piss, probs only 8b, Barrows must have over cooked it on his anal cap regime to say it was tough.

Updating my twitter feed afterwards I noticed expedition grants being given out for ‘snow plodders’. I’d always harboured ill feeling towards these grants being given to useless toffs with cheat sticks who go away for a big hurrah and bring back tales of daring do but generally don’t actually need the money. I thought about writing into the organisation awarding the grants to say they’d be better off giving it to my mate Calum rather than the toffs but figured you’d have to be proper dick to write such an email, although I had heard of this behaviour from some individuals of low moral fibre.

At Margalef it was great to see a youth sport climbing team being overseen by one of the new super sport coaches employed by Sports England as part of the IFSCs matrix. Using his coaching eye app and punching data into another computer he shouted out positive and shrewd advice to the team members. John Redhead was really taking to his role in a big way and I couldn’t wait to see the fruits of his efforts. As we left I heard him shouting, faster, higher, stronger...

After a fairly busy week we moved on to Siurana, the final part of the trip. The roads between the 2 cliffs were bendy so I was glad I wasn’t being driven by a toasted Jehovahs witness.

​   Arriving at Siurana I had a good 1st day climbing Golpe de Estado and La Rambla. Although La Rambla is a trade route nowadays I was pretty happy to make the first Self belayed ascent, having to do many of the cruxes with only 1 hand. On lowering off the latter and arriving on the ground I saw something which completely blew me away, an astounding sight. I literally couldn’t believe my eyes on what was surely Tom Randalls greatest coaching achievement.

 The figure I was seeing was unmistakeable, leaving a bat hang rest in Kalea Borroka he set off waltzing through the crux on Estado Critico. I had thought he would have gone to join the fight against IS but hadn’t thought he would have lasted long in his normally ‘out of shape’ form where surely most 5 year old jihads could have caught up and captured him. This was a new man, an ubermensch. On reaching the chains having achieved a clean lead Andy Kirkpatrick shouted down to his belayer Bear Grylls in delight. Both popularists in their own right they’d teamed up, Andy having swapped his social media campaign for a lattice-bored regime. I gave them both a thumbs up although which digit I offered was a close call.

​

​      Andy K feeling Leo for training inspiration     I know I said a month in Spain but I had gotten pretty bored of it after ten days and Si had some projects he was close to which Dan Varian apparently couldn’t even see the holds on. We parted company but still had bruises for remembrance.

  I contemplated booking a flight to the States to do Dawn Wall but thought better of it in the end as the Yanks always overhype the difficulty and that skinny Cheq kid seemed to make it out to be pretty piss, I doubted it was as big a deal as Pinch Direct on Etive Slab and certainly not as bold. I was also pretty nervous about the extreme vetting, what exactly does that entail and what do they expect to find up there?

 Instead I went back to wales. I headed straight to the Promontory Slab with Johnny, which offers technically the hardest trad pitch in Britain although not as big a lead as the Giantest. It has roughly a v13 starting 8 metres into an 8c slab, Johnny did a fine lead after minimum preparation, full of flamboyance and himself. I also managed to follow cleanly which I was chuffed with as I’d spent a bit of time floundering on a grigri on it in prior years. It gave a 9a trad slab. Johnny wondered why people had to train to climb 9a as he'd only done feet only problems for years which seemed to do the trick.

​           The day after I went down to lpt to belay Chris Doyle. He set off on Liquid Ambar and looked really smooth with the no solid food diet he’d been on for ten years really standing out, he probably weighed less than Oli. He climbed past the hardest moves and.....

​      Doylo in a dream?   I woke up, even my subconscious new Doylo getting up LA was improbable, however much time he’d spent hanging on knee bars in Parisellas and Llandulas to miss out hard moves. I’m sure he’d offer me some edited footage at some point and tell me his friend Richie had belayed.

  After 2016 the Mars One programme wasn’t looking as bad an option as I once thought. The thought of Trump and his team of fantasists being given the power to destroy the world in 30 minutes, the talk of world war 3 becoming more prominent combined with the ever looming extreme weather events from global warming and people believing their postcode makes them better ‘hardworking & decent’ than other people. It was starting to look ugly for sure.

  It would have been nice to hang out on Earth a while longer, finishing off the 2 remaining LPT routes so I could email Jez that it’s an easy and outdated crag, polish off extreme rock, solo 100 extremes in North Wales that kind of thing, but staying just sounds too dangerous. I’ll leave my phone here set to send out a few final hate tweets at farage, trump and their band of merry shites.

 I’d like to thanks my sponsors for their continued support as I get ready to blast off towards the red planet and I’d like to assure them I’ll make 1st ascents which won’t get a repeat for sometime even from alex legos. There are 2 places left in my escape pod, feel free to apply.



Source: James Mchaffie - Caffs (B)Log...

[comPiler]

Moonrise Kingdom
19 June 2017, 9:17 pm



“Would it be the best new route you’ve put up?”

“Bloody hell, it would be”



 Thus was the reasoning for trying a rather risky passage and I think it’s fair to say one of the ‘best’ bold wall climbs to be found in the UK. A route which belongs somewhere in the 1980s being technically pretty straight forward but having those classic 6b/c rockovers which become strangely tiring and where a fall leaves plenty for the imagination. I’d slept poorly for much of the trip and could empathise with Edward Nortons character suffering from Insomnia in Fight Club. There were a few thoughts which were reverberating around during the week leading up to and during the ascent of it:

‘Mind blowing, reasonably unjustifiable, somebody in the higher echelons of Equip is a patronising tool, tormented ejaculation, indian face, hellraiser, bolts, massive falls, danger, old age, death, life ‘crossroads’ and desire’

It’s admittedly hard to make one climb sound interesting, myself I enjoy sci-fi, fantasy (not s&m) but I thought I’d give this one a write up as it did give what felt like a fairly powerful experience and after all, this is my piece of the internet so I'll bore you for a minute.

​      Moon glow on the first trip   Coir’-uisg  Buttress is in a stunning location. Arriving at Elgol supplies hopefully a view of the Cuillin ridge where a short ferry journey leads past seals to the landing where a short walk up the river leads to the Loch where the cliff can be seen in the distance.

In 2007 Dave Birkett and Alan Steele put up Skye Wall having been tipped off by Tom Walkington. The pictures of the climb showed it for what it is, one of the UKs great hard wall climbs on immaculate gabbro.

Dan Varian had mentioned he’d be keen to have a trip up to try it and in mid October last year we had the opportunity. Making camp at the far end of the Loch we walked on to the base of the cliff in the evening to size it up and stash some kit. The skies were clear and it felt very warm for mid October. We walked out in the twilight and a near full moon came up and shone a light across the loch. The venue was idyllic and after having finished the busiest month of work for the year it already felt a worthwhile trip just to hangout camping.

  The following day was still clear but cooler. We did Skye Wall and a new route to the right which provided a great day out, one of those days where you feel you can’t put a foot wrong. A friend Ken Toms who passed away a few years ago once said that when you are climbing well it is one of the best feelings in the world.

  Skye Wall tackles a seam and crack on the right hand side of the face. The big expanse of rock to the left was unclimbed and appeared more featured with grooves and scoops to aim for. We left the morning after but made plans to return to attempt a new line to the left.

​  Dan with Skye Wall and Skye fall behind  Roll on May 2017 and some exceptional weather, we made our way back to the campsite paradise with 3 more friends, Adam Long, Ben Bransby and Ray Wood. I felt haggardly tired that 1st evening and slept like a log, waking up feeling bouncy I was confident we’d be up at least one new route and probably 2!

Arriving at the base we geared up and Dan led up to a good ledge, I carried on through and after some prospecting a few metres above committed to some sloping ramp moves to gain a steep corner and a belay where this became a roof.  This is where we were hoping we could go, the roof looked short and with good gear and would lead into the stunning white groove feature. Looking back down the ropes hung away from the rock and it dawned on me why the last pitch had been trickier than expected.

Two moves across the roof led to a tricky move to gain the white ‘groove feature’. There was more good gear and I was ecstatic with how well it was going, believing it would be slabbing off above and become easier. After climbing up to the next roof and booting a loose flake off I made my way onto the main feature allowing access to the upper wall, a long sloping shelf.

As soon as I gained it the fun feeling left and the nature of the climb changed. There was no gear on the ledge but worse still the wall above appeared steeper and more impregnable than we’d hoped for.

After attempting the 2 most obvious weaknesses I eventually set off up leftwards from the hooks thinking the weakness above would lead to a groove on the left and possible belay.

After getting into a pumpy position I prevaricated in this position to drain the rest of my energy before slapping into the scoop above. Once I was stood in this slight scoop I knew I was screwed and true fear set in for a minute as I realised I’d climbed myself into a cul de sac. It was one of those moments where you felt you haven’t just overcooked the chicken but the bugger is on fire, destroying the kitchen and scaring the neighbors.

After attempting to climb the ‘weakness’ a couple of times I eventually committed to the one of the more terrifying lower offs I’ve been party to, using a shit partially in wire,  I was glad I’d been taking it easy on the cakes the month prior. I made it back to the safety of the hooks and lowered down to the belay. We abbed to the ground, I sighed with relief and Dan undoubtedly did the same after being sat at the belay for ages.

​


The 'Indian Face' pitch   ​We went to the top of the cliff and abseiled down to the highpoint and I was gutted. It appeared devoid of gear and a quick brush wasn’t going to do the job. The ‘possible belay groove’ had no gear and led nowhere. I retrieved the gear and jugged back up and let Dan go down for a peek.

To say it wasn’t what we were looking for would be an understatement. Skye Wall had apart from one short section low on the 2nd pitch been full of good gear. We’d expected something similar on this. There appeared to be a few cul de sacs where you could get lured and climb yourself into a dead end.

I considered leaving our 1st effort as the highpoint as we’d got to there in a ‘good style’, much like the tormented ejaculation. The dirtiest most filthy word in the traditional British climbing sense is almost certainly ‘bolt’, those things that foreigners and yorkshiremen use. Obviously I’d never place one at my highpoint but did think it would have been a great laugh with all the grief Dave Turnbull and Nick would have gotten, I figured they’d had enough in the last half year or so.

Dan came back up and made his way out. I abbed once more to my highpoint for a last look and noticed a line of edges and sidepulls going almost straight up above where I’d been.  Once out I told Dan that after one more abseil of the crux section I thought we could do it and suddenly felt a palpable pressure like a lead weight pressing on my mind.  I really was getting too old for this shit, I’d come out for a fun holiday which had turned into some mental necessity to climb the ‘terror face’. I liked it less than that French climber with a name like a chocolate.      Dan leading through the last hard moves on the top pitch   The next day didn’t go to plan. It was going to be necessary to walk back to the ferry and change the time to the following day. Varian was too nice to ask to do this duty, Adam too lazy, Ray too old and Ben just too simple to be trusted with the task, DMM gave him some ’work’ as part of a community responsibility scheme. No it was going to be down to me. It would have been good to have some of my weak minded friends there I could have manipulated into the errand, Ryan, Hazel or Calum would have done nicely.

 After returning from the ferry landing we piled up to the cliff, I abseiled in the wrong spot, the ropes snagged and feeling toasted I ‘lost it’ on the top and threw the ropes off cursing loudly down towards the loch. I cooled off and went and retrieved the ropes knowing the route was no place for a hot head. Finding the correct abseil spot I checked the steeper section and the pro post runout.

Walking back down with the route chalked it did look spectacular, the ‘shining mountain’. I was still unhappy with a few things about the climb, not least of which was that a 30 metre fall onto hooks might leave you looking like a distant cousin of the chap out of Hellraiser. Varian had kept busy soloing some new routes nearby very patiently. Ben and Adam had done a load of new routes the last 2 days and I’d effectively done 1 and a half pitches and some abseiling, it was bloody terrible.

Arriving back at the campsite the best bit of this day was Dan doing a brilliant new highball (which Ben and Adam had spent a good amount of the day trying). We left paradise the next morning.

  The next 2 days passed far too quickly, an afternoon on Supercharger at Neist point, some drinks in the Slig, an explore for some boulders on Raasay and Friday morning arrived. The forecast was wrong, it rained and had some more possible in the updated forecast. Ben and Adam weren’t impressed and set off south to Glen Coe. We optimistically got the ferry in and the weather improved until we arrived at the base of the cliff where it pissed down for 20 minutes. When it stopped I abbed back down to the steep moves above the runout, dried some holds and cleaned a line of sidepulls which would breach the last blank section to easier ground and the top. Jugging back out I was optimistic but then it started to piss down again. Hiding beneath the overhang at the base waiting for the rain to stop felt rather draining.

The first 2 pitches are steep enough not to get wet and when the rain stopped Varian made short work of them, linking them together. I arrived at the belay and organised the gear which was mainly hooks and a few other bits of gear, it felt heavy and I was pretty sure I’d never carried more shit kit.

  With the knowledge of what to expect I arrived at the skyhook shelf quickly and made a swathe of hooks, extended with slings. After 10-15 minutes to make sure the weather was holding and to amp up I left the ledge with boiling blood and proceeded to the previous highpoint, beyond which it’s worth turning your brain off for a reasonable distance of climbing. A frantic wire placement requires a lot of care to ensure it doesn’t flick out with drag, a wild layback to leave this led to bold moves up right to a hands off ledge but a still committing jump for jugs with a cam 4 on hand ready to chuck in. Although unlikely I’d thought it possible to end up on the deck from the last move of the pitch, having never trusted microcams.

 After securing myself to the belay I felt like I’d used most chemicals in my body to reach that place and felt a very strong desire for some bad things. Looking down the face when chalked it appeared stunning, a crescent line of holds arcing down to the ‘skyhook ledge’ where the main mind play began. (2 weeks later walking out into the daylight from the Llanberis ‘rave cave’ with the few survivors had felt a similar experience, I think Alex Mason was the only person I remember assaulting. Big shout out to the burning hand and crew for setting it up, they deserve an MBE).

Dan came up and after a brief rest led through the last difficult moves to the central groove above leading to the top. Walking off we got supplied with the view of the new route which picked the easiest line up the main prow of the buttress. Three stunning pitches.

I felt blown for a good week afterwards, properly blown.

We hiked out to the campsite as darkness arrived had some amazing tasting grub and passed out soon after some wine.  Dan had come up with the name at some point that evening with both of our trips having an extraordinary moon glow as well as the name referring to his favourite film. My only offerings weren’t too inspired with ‘Rab sucks’ for laying me off their team (I didn’t think Rab himself would appreciate it), The future is in the balance was another possible option but I’ve had enough of politics in the last year.

The morning after we headed back to the mainland, Dan drove us to Carlisle where me and Ray hopped into my car and enjoyed a few hours of the best 90s trance, as we arrived in Llanberis and Ray departed Zombie Nation was appropriately playing.

I was bolloxed enough when we were on the route to not really know how hard it was and we’d only abseiled down 20 metres or so on the top face so it might not be that bad but I felt it was one of the 2 most serious pitches I’d led. There was a mistake in a recent magazine saying it’s the hardest mutli-pitch in the UK which is both wrong and laughable but I think it could be a contender for the most serious. See what you think. Good one Dan and Ray.



Source: James Mchaffie - Caffs (B)Log...

[Fiend]

It was going to be necessary to walk back to the ferry and change the time to the following day. Varian was too nice to ask to do this duty, Adam too lazy, Ray too old and Ben just too simple to be trusted with the task, DMM gave him some ’work’ as part of a community responsibility scheme.

Good stuff as always, long overdue post. Epic sounding route too.

[DAVETHOMAS90]

Yep. Quality write-up. Great effort too. 

[comPiler]

A day in North Wales
28 July 2017, 4:51 pm

    Head to head on the finishes       I often tell people I think the climbing and ‘scene’ in North Wales is a contender for the best in the world.  A recent day which involved shuffling a few centimetres higher on a sport redpoint, soloing some easy mountain routes and watching friends going for it and succeeding in their endeavours encompassed much of why I give Wales a big seal of approval.

   Dream of White Horses, Cenotaph Corner, Hope, Flying Buttress, Great Wall, Main Wall, Christmas Curry, Positron, Comes the Dervish, Right Wall, Vector, Path to Rome, Statement of youth are all route names that will resonate with climbers, the list of classics is near endless.

I’d made plans on this particular day to climb at LPT with Dan Mcmanus. The forecast was due to be poor until 8.00am before becoming good. I’d predicted that Dan would look out of his window which overlooks the Orme towards the end of the bad weather and cancel. At 8.00am Dan messaged to cancel proving my guess correct. Whilst on a big wall trip Dan will happily live on his own dandruff and wait out bad weather sleeping in a waterfall for a week but back in blighty he might crumble at the first whiff of a cloud.  After an hour or 2 of calls and counselling I picked him up and we headed down. It was as good as summer conditions get, dry with a costant breeze.

  After putting the clips in his project, Youthanasia, Dan did it first attempt making it look very easy, shaking out on most moves and obviously in good shape for his trip to Ratikon. Nick Moulden did a climb on the left and it looked like it was a ‘low gravity’ day on LPT. Having strained my elbow on an undercling on Sea of Tranquility earlier in the year a high step had proved elusive. I arrived there feeling good and getting past the elusive move got very excited, taking time to set my feet in the final positions I began to get set up for the last move before everything caved in and I was spat out into my usual air haunt. I was still pretty happy though and reminded myself that once this one was completed I’d have to attach a mobile at the belay of the last one ready to message Oli Grounsel immediately upon success.

  Leaving LPT I headed back for a brew, the day was cloudless and with friends in the Pass I drove round to see what was going on. The conditions were incredible, that golden light with a soft breeze.

I headed up to Dinas Mot and did Diagonal and Superdirect rapidly, feeling I was moving as well as I ever had where you hardly need to stop before going into the next move(doing Gogarth in sub 9 minutes a few days later felt similar). I think Diagonal might even have been the 1st route I did in the Pass with Wez and Adam Wilde sometime in the 90s.      Aiming for the 3/4 ledge   Looking up at the Cromlech there was a climber in a white helmet setting off on Right Wall. Kate Keltie had been talking about it and as I made my way up it became apparent it was her.

On arrival at the base there was a bit of a party vibe; Gus, Duncan, Fatboy, Sophie, some Spanish climbers…..but as my eyes rose and I got a terrible surprise. Jesus.

  Howard Lawledge was 8 metres up Lord of the Flies!

I yelled to his partner:

“Sophie, tell him to get down, it gets serious above”

 I’d once watched Howard make a terrifying ascent of Minotaur in Huntsmans Leap involving all kinds of crazy disco legs,whole body quivers, gear dropping out, slapping. It hadn’t looked hopeful for him at all.

  At least there were 2 doctors on hand this time and Gus could probably catch him from 20 metres without straining.

 After shouting encouragement I went up Ivy Sepulchre and round to the top of Left Wall to get pics and become a voyeur.

  The Cromlech itself can seem quite intimidating, being exposed and high in the Pass. Right Wall and Lord of the Flies are both big leads giving runout climbing where a fall in certain sections would be highly unadvisable, courtesy of Pete Livesey and Ron Fawcett. Some of the biggest falls I’ve seen have been off Right Wall.

 My friend Adam Hocking had been a bit phased by it when younger but found it easy when he did it, which is no surprise as he was onsighting 8a/+ at the time. He helped talk a chap into trying it who had only led E3 previously. He put in a valiant fight. I was on True Grip opposite when he reached the good holds above the port hole. He was too pumped to hold on to them. As he parted company with the rock he let out a scream and I locked up on the holds I was on and gazed across terrified. The scream continued and he curled into the foetal position, some of his gear banged against the rock, unclipped from the rope and flew out towards the scree below. It looked like he wasn’t going to stop but thankfully he did. Lord of the Flies has also seen some big ones off the top. The footage of Big Ron on it is well worth a watch.

   Back on the routes Howard was looking very solid and it looked like the gear he placed was staying in. Kate was also looking well solid. I’d climbed with Kate recently and knew she was a great climber having a deliberate style well suited for trad but she’d mentioned she hadn’t onsighted E5 and I thought Right Wall a reasonably big lead for a first.

They both arrived at the ¾ ledge at the same time. Kate moved up towards the port hole which to reach and get passed many people find the crux. Reversing down a move or 2 but not bothering to step onto the ledge for a rest she committed above once more and reached the port hole. As an observer at this point and having witnessed the consequences of people ‘letting go’ made the tension feel palpable, staying focused for a few more moves the good holds leading rightwards were reached convincingly.      Almost finishing the runout on Right wall     Turning my attention back to Howard I was impressed how strong he looked on the moves as I’d generally identified him as a similar morph to the chap off the Mister Muscle adverts. Half a move below some jugs and bomber kit he locked off some crap holds and wasted time putting in some rubbish gear, much to my amusement, if he’d been struggling I would have said something…maybe. He was cruising though.

  It looked as if both Kate and Howard topped out at the exact same time, in sync. I went and offered some peppermint tea to go with the bilberries on top. North Wales and the Pass had given great times again. I had to shoot off to prep for work the following day but the others finished with a pint in the Vaynol before their journeys home. Reality kicked back in but the memory never fades...apart from Ry Pasquils, his is mush.



Source: James Mchaffie - Caffs (B)Log...

[submaximal gains]

http://www.jamesmchaffie.com/caffs-blog/euphoria

Euphoria

12/24/2017

It did feel good, a very potent form of escapism, totally absorbing and for my younger self an addiction. Something which lots of people tell you is a bad idea but you do anyway. I remember the first day I started in 1996. Sat at lower falcon it had become evident my climbing partner Adam Hocking was unlikely to arrive. Feeling pretty  frustrated I set off up a VS called Spin Up, it felt wrong from ten metres height and my instincts told me not to carry on like people trying their first cigarette. I slowly made progress to the top and once there my 15 year old self felt quite elated at having stopped my instincts from backing off low down. I walked back to the base and looked at a HVS further right called Funeral Way, my memory of this is vague and I’m pretty sure I backed off that day and did it at a later date.
  From that day a totally different realm of rock climbing opened up, without the ropes, the need to stop and place pro or of belaying a partner you could do a ton of routes so fast. When I hit 17 it had become integral with most of my climbing done alone. I remember Prana and Bitter Oasis being a big deal the first time I soloed them which makes sense as I wasn’t leading that much harder, eventually they were just part of bigger days out. Many routes in the Lakes I’d look at and wonder how it would feel to do them without a rope and more often than not I would find out. It became a habit and I saw it as an extension of scrambling. I did a lot of routes in the Lakes, down Borrowdale, on Pavey, Dow, Scafell, Hodge Close and down in Wales in the Pass, at Gogarth, Slate, Tremadog, Ogwen, Carneddau, Pembroke and elsewhere. Never too hard generally but quite extensive, in the several 1000 route mark, often onsight or routes I'd not done for a few years unless they were on a regular circuit.  ​
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The Niche on Falcon
 I remember the feeling of euphoria of going near the edge soloing contrasting sharply with going to school a few years before when I dreaded going in. From wearing old clothes I’d acquired the name ‘Tramp’ which at various times (over many years) became a group chant; Tramp,tramp, tramp. Combined with being brought up a Jehovahs witness made Christmas time quite special and even a quarter of a century later when someone asks if I’m psyched for Christmas my eyes glaze over and I think about where I’d like Santa and Christ to go.
   On moving to Wales I remember a few times that first summer; spinning around on the top shelf of Lubyanka to look outwards, going for a swim beneath Main cliff after a few routes like Big Groove and Assassin in March, crawling through the hole on the top pitch of Ducking Stool and Ray Kay talking me out of Heart of Gold at a party. It had even helped me escape from an argument with an ex after a car chase.
   It’s a habit I got out of and in fact would more say lost for a good few years partly due to choking. This apparently can only happen to an expert and is where in extremely stressful situations the expert loses their head and becomes literally a complete beginner! Its one of those things you don't really believe in (like chronique fatigue/lazyitis) until it happens to you. I won’t linger on the details although it is worth a read in Matthew Syeds excellent book Bounce. Choking in a sport competitions is humiliating but think about choking when soloing. For a few years it felt like a piece of me was missing, imagine the strongest bit of your climbing just disappearing, almost completely. It led to some farcical and dangerous moments when I decided to rid myself of the block to regain access to this Elixir.
​
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When I set off to do the 100 in the Lakes it was still a big unknown wether it would end on the first route or thankfully as my friend Hazel would put it I’d get into the flow state which is what I was hoping for. The day after I was sat in the bath at mums flat having a bottle of wine, soaking in the fatigue and thinking about how much my poor mum had had to put up with over the years.
  Although kicked into touch as a regular habit the ability to cover a lot of moderate climbing fast is still there and once in a while there would be an urge to do so. Unless you are a very fortunate person life will have its periods of feeling rather flat and feckless and if you go out and do 30+ routes you know the feeling will evaporate with any worries just falling away.
    The last 2 years I had in mind a list of 100 Welsh routes to do but having left it too late in the season both years had settled on doing 60 of the best in September. This would still have given a very good day, giving homage to many Joe Brown with routes like Vector, Vember, Cenotaph, Cemetary Gates and I figured I could do it with plenty of energy still in the tank. I did the odd timing out of curiosity to give an idea of how long some sections might take. Gogarth was under 9 minutes, Pull my daisy, 2.45, Dervish 4 and thought I could rattle through a lot of it fairly quickly believing I was 17 again.
   The enchainment of routes in the mountains felt like my main forte and if you really want to do something you can find reasons to justify it. Taking something that you feel good at as far as you can, which you find tricky to envisage and pays homage to an area and some of its pioneers.  A channel of energy.
​
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   Nigel ‘Yorky’ Robinson was a friend of the family and a regular climbing partner of dads. One of those rare super nice guys on every level, driving goods he’d collected out to orphanages in Kosovo over many years. We had a day out one Friday in the summer going to Malham as the weather was duff but the original plan had been for him to join me in the Lakes as I got my head into gear for the welsh one, doing a 30 route day, when he said he was keen to come and hangout I was a bit incredulous. He met with the rest of my family for lunch at Shepherds café later that wknd.
   A few weeks later I’d just had 3 days climbing in Pembroke with Emma Twyford, a climbing partner of mine now for 20 years. In fact I first climbed with Emma when she was 12 and she said she was keen to try an E1, I pointed her at the Grasp she took 2 lobs totally unafraid then did it!
It had been a cracking weekend, Preposterous Tales and Stargate when piss wet on the 1st afternoon, Pleasure dome, mutiny on the bounty, big issue and a good piss up with friends on day 2 then Emma kindly took me up Barbarella and Headhunter before a good tide let us finish on Woeful on the last day. We finished with Fish and Chips in Aberaeron on the way back.
 I was starting an ML assessment the morning after when Eve Lancashire delivered the news that Yorky was dead. He’d been found in Donegal with boots and chalkbag on. He’d been so proud to go to his sons’ wedding 2 weeks before in Berlin.
The weather was appropriately shit on the ML to go with the news and it gave me some time to reflect on how nice a guy he was. When dad was on his last legs Yorky would travel up from Nottingham to the Lakes and take him out to crags and after dad passed away he would always email me and stay in touch with mum.
  At his funeral there was his wife Pat who is a stand up comedian and although we’d never met she took the time to grab me for a chat about Yorky. I also spoke with his son Tom who runs a Theory and Bio-Systems lab in Potsdam.
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Dad and Yorky at Shepherds cafe
  There is not much you can say when one of the really good and kind people of the world leaves it.  I’m glad it was quick, I’m glad it was doing something he loved but bloody hell I wish he was still around and can’t imagine the loss of such a character to the people who were really close to him.
   The best days I’ve had over the years haven’t been on my own, they’ve been the days doing a couple of routes with a good friend and having that shared experience. The wknd in Pembroke with Emma and having a brew on the top of Carn Gowla with my favourite doctor after climbing Guernica and going too direct on America were the best times climbing this year. It would be great to be climbing with Emma in another 20 years.
​
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Emma on preposterous Tales
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Kate on Guernica
    Back in the day they were taught never to fall off as the gear was awful and the consequences of failure often serious. Joe Brown once told me he never used to do a move he didn’t think he could down climb, worth thinking about that on some of his routes. In the 1970s and early 80s a lot more people soloed in the mountains quite possibly because it was still an era of routes being dangerous anyway and if your friends are doing something you are more likely to try it. Some people did get killed with Jimmy Jewel, Paul Williams and Derek Hersey being some of the first to spring to mind and with Cliff Phillips heinous falls off the Mot and tremadog leaving some doubt as to wether it’s just his ghost which is still amongst us. Ryan was close to death when he fell off whilst ‘tandem’ soloing Weaver, thankfully Pete was beneath him feeling like superman and managed to grab him, god knows how.
   Some of the biggest mountain solo days in the UK would have been Jimmy Jewels impressive outings on Cloggy and the film Total Control shows him floating up Left Wall, T-rex, Grasper and Silly Arete. He was obviously a great soloist but he still died doing it. The Big Jim is a huge meal you can order in Petes Eats and is named after him, apparently having a strong brummy accent he asked for a full welsh breakfast and they mistook it for four breakfasts which he polished off anyway.   
   I’m not going to tell you not to solo but would hate to think of some youths thinking it’s a cool thing to do when it’s the opposite. You might like to think you are the next A-hon or Catherine Destivelle and the odd easy solo like the odd fag is unlikely to kill you but the more you do the more the evidence starts to tally up against you. It might be a crimp or flake loosened from a winter, a bit of hidden dampness, rain, a palsy or lack of concentration at the wrong moment.     
 If you decide to give it a go then I’d tread fucking carefully as there are plenty of things to look forward to in life and it’s likely you’ll be missed even if you are a dickhead.
Choose life.
Go dancing