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James Mchaffie - Caffs (B)Log...

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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  :tease:). 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 over-caffeinated sugary drink company 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:

--- Quote from: comPiler on June 20, 2017, 01:01:37 am --- 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.

--- End quote ---
:lol:

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

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