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David Mason

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comPiler:
Coffee
1 August 2011, 10:46 am

This was my first piece of published writing from Climber magazine, August 2011.

I am sat here in the Climbing Works, the cold dampness of a February morning surrounds me. A hot, wake-me up coffee and the surprisingly melodic beat of techno as my company. I am puzzling over the link between climbing and coffee! Does one exist?! In terms of performance I would argue no but I suspect most climbers will have a cup or two a day!

One my climbing heroes, Wolfgang Gullich, summed it up nicely-

“A man doesn’t go to drink coffee after climbing, coffee is integral part of the climbing.”

I love coffee; the aroma, the rich syrupy texture and the idea of sharing time with friends or ones owns thoughts.

I was asked to write a short piece interlacing coffee with my climbing; I drink coffee most mornings so picking a day that stood out proved to be difficult. In the end an October day last year in the Valais region of Switzerland stood out above others. This area is relatively unknown compared to Ticino; Fred Nicole spent time here during the 90’s establishing lines such as Radja, Joyeux Leon and Future Eaters. Years later Dave Graham added to the quality of the area with additions such as Scarred for Life, Katcha and Permanent Midnight.

A friend and I decided to depart from a hot, sweaty Fontainebleau and spend a week in the cooler temperatures of Valais. Number one on both our lists: Permanent Midnight. The name comes from a Jerry Stahl book; I imagine both author and first ascentionist enjoy time out with a strong coffee!

Fast forwarding as my word count runs short; I managed to climb this steep, imposing arête of grey granite. Now the coffee link! Mornings were cold; first up gets the coffee on, the smell raising us from our stupor, our sloth-like selves stumbling around in the chill of the mountain air. Coffee and porridge to fuel us for the day ahead. In a short session two days ago I figured the beta, today was sending time; butterflies fill my stomach in anticipation. On my third go from the bottom I am lucky enough to get everything right and reach the top! Elation courses through me at climbing this stunning boulder. Mick is resting for the day and so by 11:00 we are cafe bound for our second coffee of the day and the suns warmth; lizards basking in the heat!



Permanent Midnight 8B in Valais, Switzerland. Photo: Micky Page.

Source: David Mason

comPiler:
Both Sides of the Spectrum
8 October 2012, 10:28 am

Before I start I must warn you this blog is all about one boulder. I normally try not to bore you with the specifics of a send but the significance of this climb to me warrants the specificity in my opinion.

Both Sides of the Spectrum was put up in 2007 by Harry Robertson, later in the year I saw a video of Tyler Landman and Dave Graham climbing it; since then this stunning ‘Karma’ like climb has been on my all-time ‘to do’ list. It is a subtle climb that requires a balance of technique, flexibility, left shoulder power and good conditions. It is also very simple; just 5 moves in length on perfect white granite; bouldering in a nut shell in my eyes.

I tried it briefly in the summer and although I managed to hold the sloper once I was going nowhere. I remember feeling dejected as it was what I wanted to do more than anything and a mixture of poor conditions, skin and probably a lack of strength had denied me.

With our time in Colorado coming to an end and Joes Valley beckoning I still hadn’t been up to Both Sides. It sits in the sun all day long and this makes it tricky to get the right conditions. However last Saturday a cold, cloudy autumn day graced us with its presence. I was excited to head up, things had been going my way and confidence was high. Walking to the boulder is one of the easier ones in Colorado; a flat 20 minute saunter through golden aspens with the sound of the river filling the brisk afternoon air.

Arriving we met Adam, Mike and Ben; friends who live in Estes Park, they looked cold and said conditions were ‘minty’. I started the warming up process, which took a while but after climbing the brilliant Hanging arête I thought I was ready. A couple of throws to work out the feet and the next thing I knew I had stuck the sloper, put my heel up and was rocking towards the top. This is where the body position becomes strange, I couldn’t figure it out, wasting time my heel popped and I was earth bound. Dragons off, Freerides on for a thawing of the toes, I was excited I knew if I could just figure the body position I would be ‘in like flin’ (not sure who flin is or where this comes from)!

Another go ended in the same result and then I remembered wise words from a friend of mine; instead of shouldering the sloper he found pulling towards it created a better body position. Another warming of the cockles, feet and hands, a sip of something hot from the thermos and I was ready. I could feel excitement brimming up inside me.

Pulling on, I hit the sloper and placed my heel the same as before but this time I really pulled over towards the left hand, click, my body was in a position that I could move from. I went again with my right hand and latched the slopey rail, praying for my heel not to pop I matched in. I knew I was close, my mind started to race should I change my heel to a toe, tick-tock, tick-tock. Time seemed to slow but watching the video back I was only there for a few seconds, I went with the heel and moved my right hand again up the top and the relief of a good hold!

Topping out Both Sides of the Spectrum felt so good, it’s not the hardest climb in the world but I had wanted to do it more than anything else in Colorado and would have gladly sacrificed my other ascents to climb this boulder.

I was simply elated!



Source: David Mason

comPiler:
Superman
8 March 2013, 8:20 pm

On Monday 4th March I climbed my most significant boulder problem to date. Superman at Crag X in the Peak District is a non-descript eliminate up a gently overhanging buttress of limestone.  It could well be the hardest thing I have climbed but for me that is not the reason that it means so much….

Let’s rewind nearly seven years to the summer of 2006 and my first visit to Crag X. This small limestone buttress is hidden away in mossy woodland where the smell of wild garlic and the sound of cascading water transport you into a chapter from Tolkien.  It really is the type of place that fairies could live!

My first day climbing here was not especially successful; I think I managed a 7a. However, British summer time forces us to climb on bits of manky limestone and if I was to spend my summer falling off calcium carbonate I was at least going to do it somewhere that is a nice place to be. That first day I was shown the problems and told the rules and style in which to climb them (I will come back to this) and I remember thinking “I like this place, I like it a lot!” This probably sounds quite perverse to a lot of you, especially those that have been to Crag X but it really is one of my favourite places to climb. It has everything; a quiet setting away from prying eyes, hard moves to get stronger on, interesting movement and, most importantly, a lot of history!

People climb for differing reasons and motivations; some like tall, proud lines, others just revel in good movement and some of us just like a bit of history with our rock. Well I climb for all the above and Crag X meets two of these criteria; proud line people need not apply!

The history comes in the form of Jerry Moffatt and Ben Moon, Sean Myles and John Welford, Stuart Cameron and Malcolm Smith; all big names in British climbing and all regularly frequented this crag for something to do in the summer months.  It was a place where they could train outside; rules could be implemented and those that didn’t abide could be ridiculed. Some may argue that it is silly but you have to make the most of what you have and boy did they do that.

Anyway, I digress. During that summer I ticked my way through the ‘classics’ of the crag, gradually working my way up the grades and always abiding by the rules! This culminated in me climbing my first 8A boulder problem. The Thing, put up by Ben Moon way back when, famously had what was dubbed to be an English 7b move on it; I personally think I by-passed this by moving so quickly I barely touched the sloper!

I knew by just putting in effort I would be able to climb all the problems at the crag, all bar one that is. Put up by Jerry Moffatt in 1986, Superman has changed over the years and after a crucial hold broke it was left to Tim Clifford to re-climb the line in 2004 using a minute left hand crimp. It was for this reason I thought I would never climb the problem, I could not conceive holding it, let alone moving off it.

Moving on a few years and I am still drawn back to Crag X every summer. I like the solitude down there, seeing others is rare and you can just go and have a really good workout in a beautiful place. I have completed all the problems and even added a few new ones but still one eluded me: Superman. In the summer of 2010 I decided to start having a go. This didn’t last long; I just couldn’t touch it. Then in spring 2011 I tried it at night by lantern in order to get cool enough conditions to hold the tiny left hand hold, but all to no avail. 2012 saw me only have two goes on the problem and leave with a bloody left index finger and still no luck on the crux.

That brings us to the present day and, after having a wet week in Fontainebleau, I just wanted to get out on some dry rock. Monday morning was a fresh spring day; the sun was shining but there was still a chill in the air. I went to the wall to warm up before heading out on the grit. After a dreadful warm up, and deciding it was too hot to climb on grit stone, I decided to see if Crag X had dried out after the winter and, amazingly, it had. I had no plans to try Superman. I felt as sluggish as a slug and as heavy as a very weighty object so I started to tick my way through the circuit of problems, cleaning off the winter muck and reacquainting myself with their idiosyncrasies.  After an hour or so I was surprised to have done them all and decided to give Superman a go.

For those of you that don’t know the problem, the first move is hard, the second harder and the third not quite as hard as the previous two but still tricky and then you still have 3 very droppable moves till you reach your finishing hold and drop off feeling very smug and exceedingly good about yourself. I had done the first move before but never the next two and after 20 minutes I didn’t feel anywhere near to any of them!

I decided to pack it in and leave it for another day or at least I thought I had. However ten minutes later I was back on the pads and, quite surprisingly, proceeded to have my two closest goes, just coming up short on the second move. A rest was in order and so Mina, Em and I went for a short walk. I didn’t really have any expectations, I was pleased with the previous goes I had had and yet at the back of my mind there was this flicker of hope.  Mina decided to set up the camera and I am glad she did. I don’t normally describe climbs but here I am going to, so skip through by all means. I pulled on and stuck the first move perfectly; my right foot stayed and up I went. Sticking the crux, a brief thought went through my mind: “this could be it…” Having never done the next move I expected to be back on the foam shortly and I nearly was. I just managed to hold the out swing and now I was thinking: “don’t mess up!” I had climbed the top on countless occasions but this time was different; I was nervous but very focussed and this seemed to get me through. Matching the top hold was incredible. A surge of pride and elation went through me; not only had I achieved a life-time goal but it was completely unexpected. I was utterly speechless.

Sitting here now, two days on and I am still surprised that I have climbed Superman, it actually doesn’t feel real. Climbing Karma in Fontainebleau was my previous high point in climbing but this small piece of snotty limestone has completely surpassed that feeling and it feels bloody brilliant!!



Source: David Mason

comPiler:
Rocklands 2013
13 September 2013, 10:32 am

Six weeks fly by and it is time to return to rainy, grey Sheffield! We have had our fair share of storms whilst in Rocklands but towards the end it was really starting to heat up as their winter morphs into spring.

I love going home! I always do, wherever I have been and for however long when it is time to come home I am happy! Now that doesn’t reflect on how the trip was, it just means I am content being in Sheffield. The streets lined with red brick terraces, dark evenings sat by the fire, eating out in good restaurants and of course close to the Peak District for getting out on those gloomy frigid days in deepest, darkest winter. I might be painting a glum picture but this is what I love about home; things aren’t perfect and we always moan about it but at the end of the day it’s where we live and so it can’t be half bad!

Hang on let’s rewind, two paragraphs in and already I digress, not a great start. Where was I? Ah yes, Rocklands, well I was there but now I am home!

This was my second trip to the southern hemisphere; to the orange and black sandstone boulders of the Rocklands. We visited two summers ago and although I had grand plans to go and push myself and my grade I wasn’t fit or strong enough and so I settled for doing classic after classic. It was a perfect introduction to Rocklands as there are so many quality lines to be climbed. Towards the end of the trip I tried a few harder problems but I still wasn’t at the level where they were possible; however this gave me a great indicator for this trip as to how I was feeling when I could do moves that two years ago weren’t possible for me.

This time round Rocklands was going to be different, I was going to be fitter and stronger and more mentally ready than I had ever been. I was coming off the back of a three month trip to America followed by six months of training back in Sheffield. Things were going perfectly to plan when I didn’t listen to my body enough and developed a finger injury! A change in my training gave my finger the time to recover and proved to be the perfect formula for climbing in the Rocklands.

Leaving for Africa I wasn’t sure quite how I felt; my body felt strong, I was motivated and felt to be in a good place mentally but I knew my fingers weren’t as strong as they could be. Luckily this didn’t seem to be a problem! Predominantly the climbing in Rocklands is gymnastic and dynamic in nature, big moves between reasonable holds. Good power and power endurance is required as quite a few of the problems are over ten moves in length. Don’t get me wrong there are small holds to be had but I wasn’t searching them out!

Now here I could blab on about this and that problem but I am going to cut to the chase; I was bloody surprised at how well I actually climbed. Shock, horror I actually just praised my own climbing! While those that know me recover I will fill you in; I am not positive about my own climbing, I tell others to be confident and positive in their own abilities but like most people I am a hypocrite and very damning of my own abilities. I give myself a hard time if I am not living up to my expectations but in the case of this trip it was different. Now yes I did have times when I got frustrated, angry and disappointed in my performance; I did shout, swear and throw my shoes but not much!

So something I learnt this trip and it can be put into a formula for those of you who like that type of thing.

Hard, specific training=success, which=a positive, confident frame of mind, which=further success!

It’s a vicious cycle only not so vicious, more content in nature and so I dub it the ‘cycle of content’. Anyway enough philosophy and blowing my own trumpet; I was completely flabbergasted and overwhelmed by how I climbed and I know I won’t replicate this on every trip but wow it feels good to tick those climbs you really want to do. The ones that two years previously you couldn’t do a single move on or just didn’t have the gas to keep going.

I did struggle on certain climbs this trip, not everything went easily but I managed to dig deep and try really hard at the points I needed to. I also failed on things but that is ok as I will definitely be returning to Rocklands; hopefully even fitter and stronger to finish those off!

I am not going to give a step by step synopsis of the climbs I did and luckily I managed to capture quite a few on video. Most are the actual ascents but a few are pieced together because I forgot to press record at the appropriate time; so go make yourself a cup of tea and sit back and have a watch of some truly awe-inspiring boulders in a truly unique and wonderful place.



Source: David Mason

comPiler:
Meshuga
7 November 2013, 5:34 pm

I am a boulderer at heart but living in the Peak District one is constantly reminded of the amazing trad routes on the gritstone. The history of climbing in the Peak from Puttrell to Brown and Whillians to Fawcett, Moffatt and Dawes, all revolves around the mental challenge and tenacity of HARD GRIT! I remember watching Hard Grit when I first started climbing and thinking that these guys were crazy; yes the lines they were climbing were incredible but was the danger aspect worth it?!

Over the last few years highballing has really started to blossom in the Dark Peak and with the evolution of bouldering mats people have started to climb the legendary gritstone test pieces ground up above foam. I have to say I didn’t take to it like a duck to water but I was persistent. I would go out with friends and have a go, sometimes backing off and sometimes succeeding but my mental capacity for it had a ceiling and that would be reached quickly each time I was out. I couldn’t tick multiple highballs/solos in a day but if I managed one I would leave the crag a very happy man and spurred on by my ability to overcome the mental hurdle of fear.

It’s not that I wasn’t strong or fit enough but I just didn’t have it up top. My mental approach to climbing has always let me down whether it be hard bouldering or easy moves in a compromising situation; it’s my head that says no not my body.

Over the past year or so this has really begun to change and my climbing has improved as a result of this. I feel more confident in my ability to dispatch whether I am having a flash go or on my hundredth red point and I think this has come from learning to deal with failure and being accepting of this. We all fail and this makes us stronger, increases our drive for development and makes the success taste all the sweeter when it comes round.

This mental change in me has lead to a curiosity of the bold routes on gritstone. If I could channel my thoughts and focus them for a few minutes, combine this with my strength then I could surely climb some reasonably hard trad routes. This was my thinking and so this year I decided to have a go….

The weather hasn’t cooled as quickly as normal in the UK this autumn and so this makes bouldering at ones limits almost impossible; there just isn’t the friction. The limestone junkies among us have loved it; their season extended, that extra bit of time for just one more red point! After returning from South Africa though I was keen to train and get out on the grit as much as possible and that is what I have done. Ticking through easier classics on the gritstone boulders got me keen to have a go at a bit of trad action and luckily I have a few friends who don’t seem to mind babysitting me!

Last April I managed to flash Simbas Pride (E8 6b) at Burbage South; it may have been above snow and a some pads but I can assure that would not have helped if I had come off the last move. That experience actually scared me but I realized that I could do it. After all it is ok to be scared for a just a few moments especially if you can harness that.

Sunday last week brought promises of good weather from the forecasters but the view out of our window didn’t suggest that. However, with high team psyche, Katy, Nathan and I headed out in search of dry rock! First stop (although we didn’t stop) was Curbar. As we drove past rain hammered down and the edge glistened with moisture in the flickers of sunlight; next stop Black Rocks. Katy was keen to try Gaia and her enthusiasm carried us through. Upon arrival the rain had stopped and sun had come out; giving those perfect damp, steamy conditions we all love for the gritstone!

We nearly left but once again Katy was adamant it would dry up and her wisdom/enthusiasm proved to be correct. A cool breeze started to blow and the rock started to feel in good ‘nick’.

I had never been to Black Rocks before but the top route on my winter tick list resides there: Meshuga. Ever since seeing Seb babble his way to success I have wanted to do it but as boulderer I thought it would always be a pipe dream. However, over the past couple of months it had started to dawn on me that routes like this were actually possible; I just had to apply myself in the right way on the day.

So now I was actually here it was time to get nervous. I wandered round to look at the mighty prow in all its glory and, wow, was it impressive. Big and tall, proud and imposing, to say I was intimidated was an understatement but I was also enthralled! At this point I am going to be honest; I had entertained ideas of having a flash go but upon seeing it in the flesh these ideas quickly dissipated into thin air. In hindsight I think Meshuga is very flashable but I will leave that accolade to someone else.

Time to rope up!

Nathan kindly set up a top rope, gave me a run through of the moves and I set off. All went smoothly and I did actually flash Meshuga but with the safety of a top rope! I gave the holds a brush, did it once more and came down. It was time to decide. Did I have the guts to lead it? Would I fully commit? Time to mull it over as I watched Katy on Gaia. In the end the decision I made was due to the fact that if I didn’t go for it today I didn’t know when I would be back and all that time I would be building it up in my head. I have been used to flashing scary routes; switching my brain off for a few minutes. I didn’t think drawn out head-pointing mind games was something I wanted to play or, in fact, could play. I decided to go for it. Around the time of this decision on any route I tend to get impatient and want to climb before I back out. Luckily Katy wanted a rest so we headed round.

Moments before tying in I managed to turn into ‘Calamity Jane’. I tripped over my water bottle, fell to the ground taking my shoes off and received a mat to the head as I attempted to throw it underneath Meshuga. My conscious thought was happy for these events as it got all the bad luck out of my system; surely I was in for some success now?!

Time to go!

The moment just before pulling on was my last moment of doubt but I buried it somewhere deep and got the ball rolling so to speak. Now I am sure people say this all time but I really felt like I entered some kind of ‘zone’; autopilot is the best way to describe it. I knew what to do but I felt like my body just did it automatically, I didn’t have to think or tell it what to do, movements just happened. As soon as the blind slap around the corner was done and I hadn’t hit the floor I knew I was safe but I stayed focused and managed to get myself to the gear. I vaguely recollect cries of congratulations from the floor but I stayed quiet and continued up not wanting to fluff the top. After the ‘meat’ of Meshuga you still have to climb another 8-10 metres; it’s not hard but you don’t want to be the first person to drop it there!

And so the story comes to an end. As I completed the final move and pulled myself over into the fading golden light a pipe dream had been realized, a moment I never thought I would experience. I, a boulderer was standing atop the mighty Meshuga!! Relief, jubilation and a whole host of emotions that I cannot describe welled up inside me. A warm numbness flowed through me, a feeling of utter contentment made me smile like the Cheshire cat.

There was time for one more significant ascent that day: another dream to be realized and a tear to be shed. Katy climbed Gaia! The route that had encompassed her thoughts for as long as she could remember, the route she never knew if she would have the courage to lead, the route she was now sat atop of!!

Massive thanks to Katy and Nathan for taking a boulderer to a route crag and allowing him to realize something special. Much appreciated guys!

Also, huge thanks to Seb for taming this monstrous piece of gritstone and inspiring us all with expletives and wittiness as he did so.



Source: David Mason

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