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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

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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

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Superman
8 March 2013, 8:20 pm

On Monday 4^th 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

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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

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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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Sweden
7 June 2014, 9:40 am

It is about a month since I arrived home from Sweden. It was probably my most successful climbing trip to date. I managed to climb fourteen out of the seventeen days I was there and in that time managed 33 boulders of 7C and harder including two first ascents and three 8A flashes.

I had booked the trip to climb one problem; The Hourglass. This stunning piece of rock has been on my ‘to-do’ list since Stefan Rasmussen made the first ascent in April 2010. The line, the rock quality and the movement are all phenomenal making it, in my opinion, one of the finest boulder problems in the world.

Although I accrued a good tick list whilst in Sweden the aspect I was most proud of was my mental ability to actually climb The Hourglass. I had booked this trip for the sole purpose of climbing this boulder and this meant I had put a certain pressure on myself. This was not only an internal objective but an external one too, if anyone asked what I was keen for in Sweden I was honest. I wanted to apply a little pressure and see how I coped with this, after all it is normally the mental side of climbing where I am found wanting.

In the end it took three sessions. Session one was awful; it was too warm and I was tired from travelling, in fact it was so awful I didn’t even manage all the moves. Not a great start. I took some time and got some other great problems under my belt. My second session manifested itself in a funny way. It got to six o’clock on a rest day, the wind had begun to blow and the stifling temperatures of the day had begun to recede. I got excited and went to have a play. The session went better than expected and I, surprisingly, got really close on a couple of occasions. I knew that the weather looked perfect in two days time and so I packed up my stuff, content with the progress I had made. Sure enough, upon awakening two days later a chilly breeze was blowing, the temperature read seven degrees and the sky was a blanket of cloud. It was time for session three! Fingerboard warm up complete I put my shoes on and taped my tips. I climbed the stand start and then had a go from the bottom; I felt good and the rock felt grippy but I came up short on the fourth move, a deadpoint to a small right hand crimp. I didn’t feel tired, I had just been unlucky and so tore the tape off my tips, chalked my hands and got straight back on. I would love to say it felt easy and all went smoothly but that would be a lie. I tried hard, dug deep and made the odd grunt in the taming of The Hourglass but rolling onto the boulder at the top felt great. Elation, relief and complete and utter happiness coursed through me. I normally choke when pressure is applied even when I know I am capable. So often I fall short but this time something was different.

With the pressure off and the weather looking good the rest of the trip just got better and better until the rain came with four days to go. Normally this rain would leave us housebound but I was motivated and still had a bit of unfinished business. I was amazed what I achieved, with a bit of hard work and a lot of paper towel, over these four days and this started me thinking about why I had chosen to get out in the rain while everyone else stayed at home in the warmth. This, however, is another story for another time….

Thanks to Stefan and Sanna Rasmussen for putting me up, putting up with me and showing me around the wonderful bouldering areas that surround Vastervik.

The video below shows my ascent of The Hourglass plus other classics from the area.

Soulfly 8A+ at Fruberget. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Rhythm 7C+ at Jarnforsen. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Les Pacte des Loupe 7C+ at Soldstrom. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Furb 8A+ at Knutby. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Fysiologi 7C+ at Fruberget. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Getting the first ascent of Grumpy Mule 7C+ at Marstrand. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Getting the second ascent of Hulken 8A+ at Stavsjo. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Lavazza 7C at Marstrand. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Getting the second ascent of Freedom of Speech 8A+ at Roversblocket. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

The Hourglass 8B at Bjornblocket. Photo: Stefan Rasmussen.

Source: David Mason

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Progression
28 June 2014, 6:38 am

Earlier this year I spent seven weeks in the United States and whilst I didn’t set the world alight with 8C ticks I did notice improvement in my own personal climbing. Over the period I managed 36 climbs of V10 and harder including a rare (ish) repeat of Li, a short power based problem established by bouldering legend Frederic Nicole in 1997. At the time I was reasonably happy with my trip, the weather didn’t always play ball and yet I made the most of what we had. I braved -10° Celsius and, in contrast, sweated it out in the baking desert heat to achieve a tick that a week later I would probably have forgotten. So why do we do it? Is it all worth it?

The answer of course is YES! I love it, thrive off it and am constantly amazed by what our bodies and minds are capable of when we really dig deep and push that bit further than normal.

It has taken me nearly two months to write this blog. I didn’t want to write an ego filled “I did this or I did that”. Instead I wanted to write something reflective and thought provoking and to be honest I didn’t have a clue what that might be! Then a few weeks ago it dawned on me that what I had experienced in the States, and more specifically in Hueco, was progression. Something I think all athletes and especially climbers find hard to measure and yet it is so important in order to continue with our fight to improve and to find the motivation to aid this fight.

The Oxford dictionary defines progression as-

‘A movement or development toward a destination or a more advanced state, especially gradually or in stages.’

It is something that everyone loves to see and feel whatever their hobby or passion and in most of these pursuits it is what keeps us working hard and striving forward in the hope of improving and pushing our personal limits.

What I want to explore is how we view this progression of ourselves, what markers do we place to keep us on the straight and narrow and how does this progression aid our motivation and development for the future.

It was five years since I had been in Hueco, five years since I had dislocated my shoulder and five years worth of training, personal growth, development and maturation. It was here that my progression became clear and this experience has driven me forward and motivated my training, climbing and life decisions since.

So what did I experience in Hueco Tanks that is so radically different to going on other trips? Well, in short, just how much better I had become over the five years. Holds that, previously, I hadn’t been able to use felt big, moves that I hadn’t been able to conceive felt easy and foot holds seemed ten a penny; there obviously weren’t anymore but I could use more of what was available. Now I hear you say that of course after five years I should be better, I should find things easier than before, and I fully agree. The key however was experiencing this in such an obvious and validating way. If I visit a crag five times a year, every year then obvious gains and progression are hard to monitor but this gap of five years really demonstrated to me that I had improved and that all the hard work I put in is worthwhile.

Progression is something that, like many, I constantly question. Is all the training and hard work paying off? Am I doing the right thing for me? Well the answer seemed to be yes and that is very comforting indeed. This doesn’t mean that I have a formula of how to improve and I must always stick to this, in fact I have changed my training so much over the past five years that pinning down what actually works and doesn’t work is very hard. The answer to this improvement lies in that last sentence in the word ‘changed’. By constantly changing my training, increasing the intensity, working on new areas of strength, skill and technique I have been shocking my body into adapting to newer, higher levels. The question here is whether I can continue with these changes by finding ways to shock the system and not let my body grow stagnant?

So where has this realisation of progression taken me and where will it take me in the future? The most important part of this realisation is the perception of my own climbing and the belief I now have in myself. I have always tended to be very positive about others climbing and their potential but that does not translate to my own performance. I have a fairly negative image of my climbing and am constantly disappointed with my efforts and performance when on the rock and especially in competition. If I am truly honest, I stopped competing because I couldn’t hack the disappointment of not excelling and the way it affected my self-image. I felt that I could control this more in an outdoor environment and to an extent I can but there are still moments, more often than I care to admit, where everything builds up and I explode! The realisation of this progression has boosted my self-confidence. I no longer look at climbs and get intimidated, instead I believe I am strong enough, believe I am good enough and this belief serves as a powerful ally when performing at your limit. However this belief is not infallible, I still get angry, frustrated and disappointed but I can now rationalise these feelings and use them as fuel to improve. And yes I still I have bad days, everyone does, and yes I still moan about these days but I know that it is all just a cycle. The good days wouldn’t feel half as good as they do without the bad ones, after all the struggle makes the success all the sweeter.

As for the future part of the question, the answer is I am not sure. What I do know is that I am enjoying my climbing and therefore my life, because the two are inexplicably linked, much more. Hopefully the future will involve pushing my limits much further, testing my abilities on the hardest and most quality lines around the world and even coming off on top sometimes!

I suppose in summation of the last five years and indeed this piece of writing, I would say that hard work pays off. I have trained hard, put in the time and battled both mentally and physically. This effort has paid off with a realisation of my progression and with this realisation my performance has improved but more importantly my self-image and belief of what I can achieve has increased. I guess it shows however much training we do we all know that the battle is won, or lost, in the head.



Source: David Mason

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Rocklands 2014: Projecting
12 August 2014, 11:18 am

Why do we climb? What is it about this past time that gets us hooked? Is it the great outdoors or the travel to new, exotic places? The buzz we get from reaching the top or the endorphin rush from pushing our body to the limit? Some may desire the ability to go into the unknown and succeed on their first attempt, while others prefer re-visiting the known on countless occasions until it succumbs to their dogged and relentless pursuit for evolution.

The answer, of course, is whatever you wish it to be. In fact it might be an accumulation of all of the above that keeps you climbing, but the area I want to explore is the last point in the above paragraph. That drive to improve and torment, to push yourself ever harder on that “project” you have been trying for two days, two weeks, two months or even two years. So, what is your timeline when talking about “projecting”? Some may feel that having to come back more than once to a climb is projecting, whilst others may try for years and even resort to building a replica for strength training and muscle memory. Again the answer is ambiguous; it’s at the owner’s discretion.

For me, as I think for most, projecting is a long-term attribute, which can range from a number of sessions to a number of years spent trying that elusive route or boulder. As with all areas of climbing, projecting is a skill and one that must be tinkered with constantly or it will poison our mind with the seed of self-doubt. Projecting is a skill that I do not possess in my repertoire, or at least I didn’t possess until quite recently. I would say I have never spent longer than six or seven sessions on a problem, to some this may seem ridiculous while to others it may be a mere drop in the ocean. However, the sessions have never been regular or successive; they have been sporadic, strung out and fitted in to suit my daily life and how I am feeling at the time. I tend to work better with quick ticks to build my confidence and sooth my ego but unfortunately this only works when you first visit an area. If you return time and again to an area then eventually you are going to have to dive head first into the “projecting” pool, and this is what I have just done!

El Corazon, 8B. Photo: Jeremy Huckins I have been to Rocklands twice before and therefore have exhausted the place of what I could climb relatively quickly. This year I had a list of four climbs I really wanted to try. They weren’t any harder, in grade terms, than what I have climbed before but each climb had something about it, something that I found difficult, and something that meant hard work was in order if I were to achieve success.

They were-

1. Ray of Light 8B

2. The Power of One 8B

3. King of Limbs 8B+

4. El Corazon 8B

And how did they go-

1. I had a brief session at the start of the trip but never returned.

2. I managed it first go on my fifth session.

3. I had 4-5 sessions; managed all the moves and got very close on the link.

4. I managed it first go on my second session this year but had tried it briefly on a previous trip.

However what I climbed is not the important part, the important part is the progress I made when I had a number of sessions in close succession. This is where I hear you all say: “of course you make progress with successive sessions that are in close proximity to one another” and when I say it to myself it makes complete sense but I don’t think I had honestly thought about it before.

On my first sessions on both ‘The Power of One’ and ‘King of Limbs’ I couldn’t do all the moves and I left feeling that they were beyond me. However on returning a day or two later the moves were completed and it was onto linking them together. Both climbs had gone from feeling unlikely to totally in the realms of possibility. I hadn’t gotten any stronger, or fitter but my muscles had remembered what it was I was asking of them and they were nice enough to comply. After that a little progress was made each session until ‘The Power of One’ was complete and ‘King of Limbs’ was no longer possible due to my shoulder.

The Power of One, 8B. Photo: Killko Caballero Although I was over the moon with my sends, what really inspired me was what I had learnt and with this knowledge bottled it’s onto the next project….. and ‘King of Limbs’ will just have to wait till next year!

Source: David Mason

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King of Limbs
11 June 2015, 4:31 pm

I haven’t blogged for a long time; this wasn’t down to bone idleness or not having anything worthy to report, it’s just that I wasn’t inspired to write. Every time I sat down and attempted to put pen to pad, or keys to screen nothing would come out.

However it’s a rainy day in Rocklands today there seems no better time than now to collect my thoughts of the last 6 months.

I returned from a tumultuous trip to the US just before Christmas. Why tumultuous you may ask? The answer to this is probably a long one but to cut it short lets say mixed motivation, poor weather and popping knees. On the plus side the finger injury I had prior to the trip disappeared, I got to hang out with some great friends and I climbed Wet Dream (V12) in Red Rocks. The number isn’t earth shattering but this had been on my radar since I saw a video of Ethan Pringle making the first ascent in 2004. It is one of the finest boulders I have ever climbed. Interesting movement on immaculate rock, requiring a strong body and mind.

Upon returning to Sheffield I planned to campus and fingerboard to regain that finger and arm strength I had lost from being injured, alongside this I wanted to get out on the grit as much as was humanly possible! These two objectives balanced nicely; I could get out on rock and then go to the wall and train. The grit isn’t the most physically demanding of rock types but it does eat skin for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The wood of the campus- and fingerboard is friendlier than the resin holds at the wall. A match made in heaven!

Within a month I was feeling the strongest I had for a long time; training goals had been smashed and I had been out on the grit more than I can remember. I had been making the most of any break in the weather to get out and I felt like I was being rewarded for this persistence. On the 28^th January I abandoned the van and trudged with two pads through knee-deep snow to Stanage Plantation. I had tried The Ace (8B) on two prior occasions that month and both times had been agonisingly close to success. This Monday morning was my third day on and it would be my fourth session within the three days but conditions were good and I was psyched. It didn’t go easily but an hour after arriving I was standing on top of perhaps the most iconic boulder problem in the UK with the whole of Stanage Plantation to myself; it was a perfect moment! Sharing success with friends is great but those solitary moments of struggle, fight, pride and elation are just as important to me.

Evening light on The Joker at Stanage Plantation. Photo by Archie Cameron-Blackie. This is already longer than planned so lets fast-forward through a frenzied few months of sessions on the grit, trips to Wales and the Lake District and more training than I care to remember. Countless days of multiple sessions; indoors and outdoors, core and climbing, campus- and fingerboarding, pull-ups and press-ups, TRX and rings, stretching and yoga. For 10 weeks leading up to my trip to South Africa I worked tirelessly to be in the best shape possible. There were moments of despair, anguish and pain but there was light at the end of the tunnel and I was feeling bigger, stronger and faster all the time.

So, why all the training? This would be my fourth trip to Rocklands and although it may sound ridiculous I was travelling 2000 miles for one boulder problem! I will pre-empt your exacerbated sighs and groans of disbelief but we all know the obsessive nature of rock climbing and what ridiculous things it makes us do. Now, yes there are many more boulders that I have to climb in Rocklands but in truth I don’t think I would have come back this year if it weren’t for King of Limbs. I had been close last year before hurting my shoulder on El Corazon (8B) and for some reason this boulder really appeals to me. It isn’t a sawing line, in fact it’s in a dark cave, but the holds and the movement epitomise what bouldering is to me. Short and powerful, it requires fingers of steel, core of steel and shoulders; you guessed it, of steel! I grip the holds so tightly that realistically my skin can only bare an hour or two of torture on the climb; it really is bouldering in a nutshell.

King of Limbs was discovered and put up by a good friend of mine in 2011. Micky, at the time, was one of the strongest boulderers in the UK and probably not far off the top echelon in the world. That trip he got the 3^rd ascent of Golden Shadow and Black Eagle both of which were considered 8B+. He then set about exploring so that he could leave a piece of the North-East in the Western Cape! Some how he came upon the King of Limbs cave and that was that. He extended his trip so that he could make the first ascent of this test-piece and stuck his nose out by murmuring an 8B+/C grade. I think he actually said it was far harder than both Golden Shadow and Black Eagle in his opinion and the Internet jumped on the 8B+/C grade.

Since then it has had a good few ascents and with beta refinements people have said it could be 8B.

So, where am I? Training: tick, reason: tick, history: tick.

In 2013 I had one very brief session on King of Limbs and in conclusion I was a country mile off the strength required for this boulder.

In 2014 it was one of four boulders I wanted to climb on my trip. I had three sessions before hurting my shoulder and it felt doable but looking back I am not sure I was strong enough. I probably only did the crux move once in each session and linking the first three moves; realistically I wasn’t even close.

To put in context how difficult King of Limbs is for me I think it is worth mentioning that in these two trips I ticked 24 problems of 8A and harder including seven 8B’s.

So, how did 2015 pan out? I had planned two weeks in Rocklands to complete King of Limbs and then I was to spend three weeks exploring the boulders around Cape Town. Unfortunately huge fires over the summer left most areas in Cape Town closed for re-growth of vegetation. My flights were already booked and so it seemed that I would have five weeks to try to climb King of Limbs. This lowered the pressure a bit and meant I could take my time and not rush the process. King of Limbs is gnarly on the skin and body so ample rest between sessions is needed.

After arriving in South Africa to a rain enforced rest day I first headed up to King of Limbs on Thursday 4^th June. After warming up I re-acquainted myself with the ending and then got stuck in. I managed the crux iron cross move five out of six times. I was stronger; it had been worth all the hard work! The first move seems to be inconsequential to most but to me it is awkward and getting it wrong sets you up poorly for the crux. I didn’t do this move and so leaving after my first session there was mixed emotions.

Two days later I was back. I just couldn’t commit my skin to trying hard on anything else until King of Limbs was complete. After watching a few videos I had a new idea for the first move. It instantly turned the problem on its head. The body position and movement suited me and although I still find it a difficult move it no longer felt awkward and I was excited for every attempt. Skin was thin and goes were limited but in this session I actually stuck the iron cross from the start only for my foot to pop. Normally in this situation I would be full of rage and anger but I wasn’t, yes, I was frustrated but I was also happy. I knew I could do it and I still had four weeks left.

King of Limbs in Rocklands, South Africa. The plan was to take two rest days for my skin to recover and then head up on a one-off cold day mid week. Unfortunately this freak cold day turned into a rainy day and I didn’t want to have three days off. This balance of skin maintenance and the need to climb was becoming stressful. After one rest day and with rain forecast for the day after I decided to head up to King of Limbs for 3-5 goes; this was how many attempts I deemed my skin could manage.

It was the hottest day so far but there was a wind blowing into the mouth of the cave. Four goes in and I had come close to sticking the crux from the start, my skin was wearing thin and the nerves were mounting. It wasn’t that I wanted the process to be over; I loved the physicality of this boulder but the skin management and amount of rest I had to take was frustrating, after all I was here to climb.

And that’s when it happened, as if by magic, on that fifth and last go I stuck the crux, the foot didn’t pop, I latched the next move by the skin of my teeth and then went into autopilot. The last few moves are definitely droppable but it all came together rather splendidly in the end!

The iron cross on King of Limbs. That brings us to the present, rainy day, the day that I was supposed to be going to try King of Limbs. Thankfully I went yesterday!

And now what you have all been waiting for, or maybe not. THE GRADE. So here are the facts;

• Counting the first aborted attempt in 2013 it took me seven sessions; this is the longest I have tried any boulder for.
• I used very similar beta to the first ascent i.e. very basic!
• It is harder than any other boulder problem I had ever climbed and I think it suits me reasonably well.
• In my opinion it’s either my first 8B+, which would be lovely or top-end 8B. I haven’t decided whether to be conservative or take the glory yet!

Whatever grade it is the process of climbing King of Limbs has been a fulfilling and rewarding one. From seeing it conceived in 2011, getting totally shut down in 2013, nearly tasting success in 2014 (or so I thought) and finally to putting time, money and hard work into climbing it in 2015 it has been an enriching experience that I will always cherish and remember.

Source: David Mason

[Three Nine]

Ok so you climbed some poxy bit of rock.

What i'd be proud of is that back musculature 

[SA Chris]

Like a relief map of the Himalayas.

[Moo]

Steady now I'd say it was a bit more like the chilterns

[Bonjoy]

Come now, it's at least the Mendips

[SA Chris]

The Rhondda Valleys?

[Jaspersharpe]

Great effort!

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Desert Island Climbs: Part One
11 August 2015, 4:00 pm

Inspired by UKC I thought I would have a crack at writing my own Desert Island Climbs; after all who doesn’t want to be whisked away to a desert island with eight of their favourite climbs?! Although I don’t have a vast breadth of ascents (obviously why I haven’t heard from them), I think describing my experiences on the climbs that are most significant to me would make for an interesting read. If you disagree then I would advise you stop reading right about…now!

So why do these stand out from others? And what makes them special enough to make the process or moment important to me?

I think the clichéd answer is to say that it is about more than just the climb. It’s about the people one shares the experience with, the history that envelops a certain piece of rock and the trials and tribulations the climber goes through to make an ascent possible. The fact of the matter is that the cliché is true. It’s about all that and more. Each climb has it’s own unique story and what contributes to that story can be a hundred tiny moments or just one moment of inspiration, luck or fight.

Over the next few months I am going to try and put down in words what each ‘desert island climb’ means to me and how it got to be on my list.

• Gaia E8 6C; Flash.

Thanks to the Slackjaw film Hard Grit, I think this must be the most infamous grit route in the world. The film starts with Frenchman Jean-Minh Trin-Thieu attempting to climb Gaia. Gasps of exertion and the sound of a beating heart interspersed with instrumental music build the tension to a nail biting crescendo. His twinkle toe movement, ballerina-like, is a pleasure to watch and can surely only result in success. One movement away from triumph and it all goes wrong resulting in an almighty whipper leaving him, luckily, with just a nasty gash on his leg thanks to some top notch belaying.

I would imagine most gritstone aficionados have seen this and recall the scene and the feeling it leaves in the pit of the stomach as he plummets towards the ground. The capturing of this footage almost makes Gaia more infamous, more scary and more of an undertaking to those intrepid few. There is a slight thought of impending doom before you even get on the route.

Luckily it didn’t seem to be like that for me. I have been to Black Rocks twice: on the first visit Katy (Whittaker) made mincemeat of Gaia and realised her childhood dream of climbing this beauty and the second time to belay a friend, Nige, on the route. The day was a warm one, t-shirts and sweat are my most vivid memories, and watching Nige practise the route on a top rope lulled me into a false sense of security. He just made it look so goddamn easy! I had been having a good gritstone season and I was feeling confident. Probably, looking back, a little too confident but that’s how it works. Success breeds success and before you know it you feel like an untouchable entity, riding the send train, non-stop to Sendsville. Ever since seeing Gaia in the flesh and watching Katy cruise her way to the top I had entertained this tiny idea of having a flash attempt. This idea was so tiny that I hadn’t told anyone and this meant that it wasn’t really entering into my conscious thought too much either. Nige’s silky skills, a French blow on every move, compounded the feeling that was welling up inside. I think Nige could see what was occurring as if my thought process, the ticking cogs, were audible to him too.

To cut an already long story short I decided to take the plunge, I climbed up, placed the gear and down climbed. Was this a good idea? It was hot and humid, I was sweating before I even left the ground, but once the gear was in place my ego wouldn’t let me back down. The next minute or two was a complete blur coupled with a few really vivid moments; getting into the groove, rocking over and realising my left hand was too high, reverse the move, carry on. Bridged in the groove, I can hear Niges voice telling me to chalk up, no French nonchalance here, I hadn’t even chalked up! Quick chalk. I am tall so reaching the sloper is easy (thanks Mr Dawes), no ladybirds to be seen. Sketchy foot swap and after that the arms are in complete control. Sitting a top of Gaia was not what I would call a euphoric feeling; more a realisation of what a plonker I had been, how poorly I had climbed this wonderful route and how happy I was to be okay.

I am not known for my fine footwork, so flashing Gaia felt pretty rewarding. All the other grit routes I had done that year had involved pulling with my arms, not exactly what grit is known for. This ascent proved to me that I could be technical in an exposed position when required. It also proved to me that my ego could sometimes override my brain!!

Thanks Nige and Katy for making it look so easy and giving me the inspiration to drag my boulderer’s torso up that lovely piece of rock. Flashing Gaia is an achievement that I am immensely proud of but having this climb on my desert island would allow me to hone my skills of French nonchalance!

Katy Whittaker on her successful lead of the infamous Gaia at Black Rocks.

Source: David Mason

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Albarracin
3 January 2016, 7:59 am

After coming back from South Africa in early July I had a few weeks off from climbing; I had trained hard for King of Limbs and thought my body deserved a rest! Now resting is something I very rarely do but (I think) I managed to have two weeks completely off! I visited my Dad in France for a week and Mina took me to Legoland in Denmark for a late birthday present. Legoland might sound like a strange choice for a 30 year old but I had always wanted to visit after spending so much time playing with Lego as a child.

My theory was that after this break my body would be ready for another period of training and I wanted to get out on the limestone and try Bewilderness at Badger Cove. Sadly this was not to be the case; whilst doing no climbing I managed to pick up a couple of finger injuries, one in either middle finger to be precise. Now I realise that I didn’t actually injure them whilst resting, what is more likely is that all the niggles and micro trauma from training and climbing started to form scar tissue and my fingers began to seize up.

So, when I started back they ached around the knuckles and A4 pulley, especially when crimping. To cut a long story short I couldn’t climb on a board or anything too steep, or campus, or fingerboard so I just ended up doing a lot of climbing. Although I didn’t realise it I really used the time to improve my technique; I climbed on the grit when it was too hot to and I started climbing all the slabs and vertical problems at the Climbing Works, something I hardly ever did before.

Other than improving my technique I discovered the Five Ten Anasazi; I have been sponsored by 5.10 since 2009 but have never got on with the Anasazi, in fact until this year I had only ever owned one pair of them and they had only been used on very specific problems. For some reason I started to wear them more and more, and wouldn’t you believe it, they are way better for techy climbing than down turned shoes! So not only did injury improve my technique and enjoyment for all things slabby but it also allowed me to discover a much more versatile and comfortable shoe!

Apart from running laps on slabs and pottering on the grit I also joined in with a 10-week strength and conditioning group organised by the Inspector (Neil Mawson) and Sam Whittaker. Tom, Harry and Jordan  put a group of us through our paces every Thursday evening; squats, presses, thrusters, pulls, planks, rows and just about anything else you can think of was on the agenda. The boys did a great job of thoroughly destroying us and yet giving us all a great base to work from. I really enjoyed this time spent in a small gym at the Sheffield Hallam campus; the camaraderie, the competition and the feeling of pain was something I hadn’t experienced in other sessions before. I think most climbers are in pretty terrible condition to be honest and have become over-specialised leading to injuries and reducing the effectiveness of their personal training. Doing these sessions was a refreshing change at a time when I couldn’t train in my normal way but I also think I have become a much stronger and more functional athlete along the way. Hopefully with the combination of this and more specific climbing training I will be to push my level up a notch.

Anyway back to the title of the blog! I wanted to go away on a short trip somewhere in November. I wanted to go somewhere I hadn’t been before so that I had no expectations and I wanted good weather so that I could climb as much as possible. I want doesn’t normally get, but in this case it did and in the end I chose Albarracin. I love sandstone and climbing amongst the trees (sound like anywhere familiar?) and this coupled with the fact that rainfall is pretty minimal there made it seem like an obvious choice.

Un Bocadito Si Le Daria (7B+). Photo Andy Jennings. Three of us ended up going for 10 days and another friend joined us for a few days whilst we were. We are all different climbers who operate at differing grades but I think it’s fair to say we were all suitably impressed. The setting is beautiful; red sandstone boulders strewn amongst the pine tree forest makes for a boulderer’s wonderland. The rock has great texture; grippier than Fontainebleau but still very kind to the skin and there are some lovely shapes and features on display. The one downfall was that the holds on the more popular boulders are getting caked in chalk. Whether this is due to the amount of rain the area gets or the lack of brushing by climbers it is definitely something that needs to change in order to maintain these classic climbs. I spent a lot of time whilst there brushing tick marks and excess chalk off holds, and the rock really benefited from this.

Esperanza (8A+). Photo Andy Jennings. However, to me, this was the only down side of Albarracin. I had heard that the forest was littered with poo and toilet paper, and although we did see some it seemed no worse than other climbing areas I have visited.

Rocio (7B). Photo Nick Bradley. The climbing itself is great fun; often pretty physical with just enough subtlety to make it interesting. There are a lot of roof climbs and a lot of mantels, most of which are high in quality and offer something different to a lot of other destinations. There was so much to do that I ended up running around like a child in a sweet shop; I wanted to climb everything and luckily the blue sky and temperature highs of 5 degrees allowed this. I am not sure if I would return as I climbed pretty much everything that I wanted to and nothing else really caught my eye, however if you climb mid 6’s to mid 7’s I think you would have great fun returning here time after time.

Zarzamora (7C). Screenshot. If you do visit make sure to check out the bakery in the centre of town; it does incredible chocolate croissants that even rival the French Pain au Chocolat!

Check out the video from the trip 

Dr. Zoiberg (7B). Photo Nick Bradley. Pinturas Buldestres (8A). Photo Andy Jennings.

Source: David Mason

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58 Days in the Forest of Fontainebleau.
2 April 2016, 9:13 am

My time in Fontainebleau has come to an end and as I sit on the ferry back to England I am left to contemplate the last two months and what it has meant to me.

I have experienced some immense lows in my own personal climbing and battled through mind games to come out a stronger, more mature person; I have reacquainted with old friends, got to know newer friends in more depth and met many others for the first time; I have tried, failed and climbed some of the best boulder problems in the world, and after not visiting the forest properly since 2010 I have rediscovered the magic that lingers between the trees.

There is so much I could write about, that actually picking something is proving quite difficult but I have settled on narrating the trips highs and lows in the context of six boulder problems. Picking just six was hard but each of these boulders represents something more than just a climb.

Rencontre du Troisième Type Assis at Rocher Saint-Germain. Video still from Neil Hart. Atresie – 8A

This was the last of the BIG 5 at Cuvier Rempart for me, and much harder than any of the others in my opinion. I have always found myself at this boulder on slightly damp days, those days when you think it’s dry but in reality it’s probably a mixture of desperation and optimism telling you that. This boulder represented much, much more than just another tick; it was a change in the wind for me on this trip.

I had trained hard, I was going to come to the forest, dispatch a few boulders that I had unfinished business with and then get stuck into the really hard stuff! How wrong I was, in reality, I had over-trained, which had effected me physically and mentally and I hadn’t climbed enough, leaving my movement far off the pace required in the forest of Fontainebleau. This, coupled with poor weather over the first few weeks, and I was really struggling to get into the groove of climbing here, putting me on a downward spiral.

In fact, thinking back I was probably the most effected I had ever been by my climbing performance, as ridiculous as it sounds for someone on a two-month long trip in one of the best bouldering destinations in the world, I was in a dark place and I just wanted to go home.

Topping out Atresie was the beginning of the light for me, the reward from three days of hard work on my mental game, countless discussions with friends and frantic reading of ‘The Inner Game of Tennis’ by Timothy Gallwey. Yes the send itself was great but it was how I carried myself during the session and how I felt and reacted on the failed attempts that really meant something to me. The morning of the send was preceded by three days of rain, and in this time I flipped my trip upside down. I knew that I had to do something about my mentality, I was acting like an ungrateful idiot and that was effecting my enjoyment but more importantly others enjoyment of the trip. Over these rainy days I had countless discussions with friends on how they deal with these feelings in their climbing or life, because at the end of the day, we all go through them. My sounding boards for these discussions were Mina, via text, as she was in India, and Jimmy, Rob and Rhys. Each of them played a crucial role, from listening to me moan to directing and stimulating my thoughts in a more positive direction.

At the end of the three days I felt ready to embrace the challenge of possible disappointment and to not let it affect mine, or others, trip. I wish I could tell you it was plain sailing after those three days, but it wasn’t, I had to work hard and I still got frustrated, and annoyed, and disappointed but I think, and I hope others would agree, that on the whole I dealt with these feelings in a more mature, progressive manner that allowed me to get enjoyment even when the outcome wasn’t to my liking.

Yes it was great to send Atresie, and standing on top of the boulder felt tremendous but the reason this climb sticks out in my mind is because of the mental change that I had made.

Atresie at Cuvier Rempart. Video still. Partage – 8A+

I am not sure that this climb needs much introduction; it’s one of the best lines in the forest and probably the world. A tall, proud arête with moves that require a fine balance of power, precision and position. This was another climb that I had tried on previous occasions, both times happened to be at the start of snow fall and so keeping shoes dry was almost impossible leading to slipping and sliding, fumbling and falling and a hastened retreat back to the gite.

A good spell of weather had arrived, in fact there were almost too many good days in a row and in fear of missing out and with the ever-encroaching wetness on the horizon I ended up climbing on all five glorious days! On the fourth day of the five, with already oozing skin, I went to try Partage. After an hour or so I had it all sussed and managed a few good goes from the bottom but my skin was dangerously close to the line of no return, using my new found woosa and self-control I called it a day.

The next day was a funny one, it was our last day before more rain was forecast but I didn’t really know what to do with myself. As the light started to fade I got a sudden itch and with about an hour of daylight left I was back standing beneath Partage. This seemed just about enough time for more carefully spaced attempts or maybe it would just go first time.

I have to say that first go joke almost became reality but mid way through the last hard move my left hand blew off and I hurtled backwards, bound for the only boulder nearby, cat like reflects from my spotter took much of the impact from the fall but I definitely felt it the next day. As the light faded, along with my skin and my muscles, I refined some foot beta and just as the golden evening sun was saying it’s farewell I managed to execute everything as close to perfection as I could and let out a raucous yell of excitation, relief and pure ecstasy at standing on top of that beautiful feature. It was one of those rare goes that from the first move I knew it would end in success!

It was the perfect ending to five days of glorious weather in which I had turned my trip around; day one had been Atresie and day five had been Partage with other great climbs in between. The next few rain days would be a lot different to the previous weekend and that turnaround felt good, I was proud of the work I had put in and this had culminated in climbing a truly wonderful problem that I had struggled with on previous occasions; time for a few beers and an extra burrito at tea!

Partage at Buthiers. Video still. Gecko Assis – 8B/+

This was the one; this was the boulder that I wanted to do more than anything else this trip but I knew very quickly that I wasn’t in the right shape, or at least I thought I knew. These feelings meant that I actually didn’t try the problem until four weeks into my trip; the session, however, ended up being a pleasant surprise. I managed the stand in a few attempts and had quickly done the sit into the stand but with thinning skin and not the best conditions I called it a day; after all I had a month left and if I put all my “eggs” into this boulder I knew I could do it.

Sitting here at home I still know I can do it but this trip just wasn’t the trip for it. I actually only tried it on one other occasion with a similar outcome to the first, I could do the stand and I could climb into the stand from the sit, still positive but not much progress. Then other things got in the way; weather, split tips and a dislocated ankle meant that this would have to wait for my next trip.

I am disappointed to not have done it but I am happy to know that I can do it, and this change in my headspace is really refreshing and actually pretty uplifting. I know I’ll return to Fontainebleau as many times as it takes to climb the Geck as, in my opinion, it’s one of the best problems in the world; a perfect egg shaped boulder, situated in a beautiful part of the forest with a mixture of strength, technique and subtlety required in order to climb it. The holds are non-holds, you can’t brute yourself through, the positions are there but barely and when that all comes together it will be a special feeling!

Snak – 7B/C+

How many of you have heard of this boulder? Even the Font connoisseurs out there, it’s a 7B nestled away between Cuvier and Cuvier Est, probably two minutes walk from the most climbed boulder in the forest, Marie Rose. It’s a perfect example of Fontainebleau bubbles, made for squeezing and mauling and whaling our way up! The reason perhaps why you haven’t heard of it, and the reason I have this boulder in my list, is that it’s a huge sandbag! I have climbed 8B in Fontainebleau faster than this one and for me that is a huge part of what climbing in the forest is all about, getting shut down on stuff you assume you can do. After you get over the initial ego bashing it feels great to get stuck in and suss it all out.

Tom Williams on Snack at Cuvier. Photo by Andy Jennings. Ma Que Bella – 6B+

Another major part of my trip was seeking out hidden gems and areas that were seldom visited by other climbers. For me this solitude in an area is really refreshing, especially when compared to a Saturday at Cuvier, and it makes you realise how much incredible rock there is in the forest. With just a bit of research and work you can spend whole days climbing on wonderful boulders and not see another sole.

Ma Que Bella could be one of the best problems I have ever done and it’s 6B+, making it very accessible to a large number of people and this makes it even cooler in my opinion. The fact that it’s an 8 metre high slab with the crux at the top may reduce it’s appeal but if you like techy slabs and a bit of spice then this should definitely be on your list.

It was a sunny Saturday and I was climbing with a bit of a Fontainebleau mentor to me. I first met him at Isatis about 8 years ago and we have been friends ever since. His climbing style is the complete opposite to mine and over the years I have learnt a lot from him both in Font and on the gritstone. His knowledge of the forest is immense and his patience, support and enthusiasm for others climbing makes days out a real joy.

On this day our roles were slightly reversed as I managed to tech my way to the top first and he had backed off at the point of commitment a few times. I like to think my encouragement, belief, and berating if he hadn’t done it, helped him push on and do the business a few tries later. It was great to see his joy at topping out and his enthusiasm, which has waivered over the past few years, return and with this I hope we will go on to have many more days out on the rock together.

Ma Que Bella at Videlles L’Abbatoir. Video still. Respire – 7C+

I tried this boulder on my first day in Fontainebleau this trip, thinking it would be a nice quick send, maybe even a flash, to get into the swing of things. I then proceeded to try it on my second day, and my sixth day and then again on my last day. Each session was at least an hour long, some closer to two and with that it became the problem I had put the most effort into, not only on this trip, but also on all my trips to Font.

It all revolved around a left heel hook that isn’t that tricky but for some reason I just wouldn’t trust it, and time after time I would back splat onto the mat. I thought that by the last day my movement would be improved and I might just go and wallop it but once again, this wasn’t to be the case.

L’Angle Parfait (7B) at Dame Jouanne had previously been my longest siege in the forest but now Respire takes that title until I discover something else that thwarts my efforts. This boulder really illustrated to me how personal grades can be. When I actually climbed it, it didn’t feel that hard and none of the moves were individually that difficult and yet it took me a long time to put together. Does this mean that it was the hardest problem I did all trip? No, I don’t think it does, at least physically, but maybe because I saw it as something that I should do quickly, I didn’t pay it enough respect and therefore sub-consciously I wasn’t trying as hard as I should. There is a lot to think about there but whatever the case it’s a great problem that I found mentally pretty taxing and finishing it on my last day was a nice cherry on the top!

So there you have it, six boulders that sum up my trip; from hidden gems to sandbags, mental battles to realisation but at the end of the day it’s just another climbing trip and I will go through these trials and tribulations many times more I am sure. Hopefully though I have learnt a little and next time I will be more prepared.

Respire at Cuvier Rempart. Photo Jimmy Webb. On another note I wanted to say something about the forest and the way we climbers behave when we are there. This trip reminded me how good it is to climb in Fontainebleau; the woodland setting, the immaculate rock, the subtle yet powerful climbing and the great patisserie all adds up to make it a very special place and we must remember and treasure this.

My two bugbears from this trip were litter and tick marks.

To be honest I think the litter at most areas is not actually climbers but discarded by the general public but I did pick up a lot of finger tape when walking around, and the number of cigarette butts/ends strewn around is definitely on the increase, these don’t biodegrade so please take them home with you. The most surprising and disappointing things I saw were the number and size of tick marks/donkey lines! I am not saying we shouldn’t use them, I think they are very useful but we must remember to brush them off, rain doesn’t do this for us. Also think about the length required for your tick marks, I saw ones over 2 feet long to a tiny foothold that probably required a cm at the most or a bit of verbal guidance from a friend. Many classic boulders are starting to look like The Dagger in Switzerland and this is not good, both visually but also for climbers reputation. It takes a minute to brush off your ticks so next time you’re at a boulder or even an area, take a look when you leave and if there are some ticks, then brush them off, even if they aren’t yours.

I want to finish by saying a huge thank you to Neil Hart at Maison Bleau for the copious amounts of good food, the beers, the stories, the knowledge and of course a great place to stay. Thanks a lot mate!

Free Hug Assis at Rocher Canon. Photo by Jimmy Webb. Le Passeur Bas at Mont Pivot. Photo by Andy Jennings. L’Angle Imparfait at Le Patouillat. Photo by Andy Jennings. Megaliths at Rocher Saint-Germain. Photo by Jimmy Webb. Vive le Surf at Moulin de Roisneau. Photo by Jimmy Webb.

Source: David Mason

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Down Under – The Grampians 2016
2 October 2016, 4:54 pm

We are sat in the van at Castle Hill; it’s raining, and the cloud is low, enveloping the surrounding snow-capped peaks. It’s a spectacular setting to go bouldering, people told us this, but it’s something I would strongly advise seeing yourself; no words, or pictures can do it justice.

So whilst I sip on my tea and listen to the pitter-patter of rain I have time to contemplate the last two months that Mina and I have spent ‘Down Under’. We have wanted to do a trip to Australia and New Zealand for the last 3 years but never quite got round to it but finally July 12^th 2016 arrived and we were off. This would be the second longest trip that we had been on together, just surpassed by a 3-month road trip around the States in 2012. This length of trip sounds great, and it is, but there are definitely positives and negatives to being away from home for this long. On the positive side it gives you time; time to explore, time to really get to know an area and the people that call it home and enough time to not get too stressed about climbing those all important rock climbs. On the down side I think that after 4-6 weeks we/I start to lose our/my edge, not only physically but also mentally. On paper going climbing everyday sounds brilliant but it’s hard to maintain motivation to push yourself all the time. I have found this more on this trip than ever before; at first I tried to fight it, to push through but this lead to frustration and disappointment, in the end I just accepted this fluctuating motivation and did what made me happy on a day-to-day basis.

Red Mist (V12), The Bleachers. So, lets start at the beginning, after all is there a better place to begin?! The Grampians have always been on my list of places to visit, mainly due to the fact that it is home to Klem Loskot’s Ammagamma (V13); since the first time I saw footage of it I knew I wanted to, no, had to climb it at some point in my life. I have this lifetime tick list of boulders in my head, that obviously gets added to but Ammagamma was one of the original problems on the list, along with others like Karma, The Ace, Black Lung and Vecchia Leone. So, on our second day in the Grampians, Mina and I traipsed up the steep hill into the low lying cloud and howling wind to get a glimpse of the Holy Grail of Northern Grampians bouldering. Sadly it was wet but my taste buds had been tantalised; it was lower than I had expected but much steeper, the holds were bigger but so were the moves, I was excited with anticipation of getting to try it at some point within our trip.

Unfortunately it was another two weeks before I managed to get back up there as the low cloud clung to the hillside and left Ammagamma invisible to the eye. Instead I proceeded to do some mileage and get used to the rock and style of climbing in the area. The rock in the Grampians is incredibly diverse; from the spider web rock at Mount Fox, to the almost grit-like areas around Halls Gap to the Rocklands style quartzite of the Northern areas. And then there is the smooth, bullet hard rock of Araplies too! I was blown away by the variety and I really think it is the area’s biggest boast. On the down side I was slightly disappointed with the depth in quality across the grades in most areas, for me personally I saw very few boulders below V10/7C+, not including the Halls Gap areas, that I wanted to climb. This meant that the mileage part of the trip was over pretty quickly, not a bad thing as it forced me to get involved with projecting, which is something that I often struggle with when visiting a new area.

Parallel Lines (V11), Project Wall. The Outsider (V11), Mount Fox. Photo: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk. So what was on the list project wise? Well there was a lot but the big three boulders I wanted to climb were, as mentioned above, Ammagamma, Cherry Picking (V13) and On the Beach (V13). Each problem, in my eyes, is world class: the history of Ammagamma, the situation of Cherry Picking and the movement of On the Beach.

Due to the poor weather during the first two weeks On the Beach was the first to be erased from my list; it pretty much stays dry in all conditions meaning I could try it when everything else was piss wet. The movement on this problem really is very good, maybe even the full package and it sits in pride of place amongst the Trackside boulders and below the mighty Taipan Wall. The day I topped out I didn’t think it was possible; after being at Araplies all morning and into the early afternoon we arrived at the problem only to find it damper than I had seen it before. A temperature spike and no wind had meant condensation had formed on the rock overnight and not really shifted. I was frustrated as two days earlier I had done the climb in two halves and knew I just needed some good conditions. Sadly today wasn’t to be the day but I pushed on regardless and I am glad I did. After an hour or two of frustration and poor attempts I figured out some crucial beta; a way of holding the crux hold and the body position required to release my toe hooks from the back and campus in to match. A little later just before the sun disappeared for the day I topped out this brilliant boulder with a smile on my face and an apology to Mina for being a grump earlier in the session.

On the Beach (V13), Trackside Boulders. Screen shot: Ed Giles. July moved into August and with this the weather took a turn for the better; the cloud I had come to associate with the Grampians had lifted and I don’t think we saw a drop of rain for at least a week! It was time to commence the slog up to Citadel to try Ammagamma. This problem really comes down to one move: a big throw off a painful pocket to a glorious right hand slopey rail. The two start moves make the throw a little trickier and the end is V8, so if you know what you’re doing you probably should be ok. Famous last words! I managed to drop after the big move three times!! Frustrated? Yes but also pleased that I knew I could do this fabled boulder problem. And sure enough on my second go next session I managed to stick the big move, and this time not mess about. I had imagined climbing this problem so many times over the years that standing atop felt quite surreal. I didn’t whoop or yell to begin with, I just enjoyed silent contemplation whilst a grin spread, slowly, across my face and then I whooped, I think!

Ammagamma (V13), Citadel. Screen shot: Ed Giles. And so there was one, probably the finest one to be honest. Situated at Buandik overlooking a beautiful waterfall Cherry Picking is about as perfect as a boulder problem can be. Six moves in total, well actually more but after those six dropping it would be almost impossible, a perfect starting jug at head height and a last move crux followed by a juggy romp to the top of this huge lump of rock. The climbing is powerful and dynamic and I knew it would suit me well. I actually had a brief play on it in my first week with an American friend but I could barely hold on, as my skin was so sore and sweaty. Two weeks later I slogged up the steep hill hoping that it would be ok to try on my own. After a tentative first go I got through to last move seven times in that session, never quite managing to latch the final hold. A few days later and this time with Mina in tow I was back under the boulder. Conditions were nowhere near what they had been on my last session but I still felt positive I’d get it done. I had watched a few videos and noticed that most people were jumping off a different foothold for the crux move. I had lay in bed at night going over and over this move and I knew that I could latch it, in fact I had visualised it so many times that I felt I had practically done it! However I managed to get to the last move a further three times with still no success, it felt closer with this different foothold but my falls were wilder, and my left heel was starting to hurt from hitting the slab as I landed. It then decided to rain! Luckily not for long but the water started to make it’s way down the crack lines and onto the face of the problem. The jug romp being wet would be fine but not the section below. I impatiently decided to have a go before it got any wetter, and once again I was at the final move preparing to plummet down onto the slab, only this time I managed to stick the move with my front two fingers and control a vicious swing with a good donkey kick of the wall, readjust the hold and enjoy a wet jug romp to the top!

Cherry Picking (V13), Buandik. The big three were done! And all in a two-week period!

After completing my main objectives for the trip I definitely started to struggle with motivation to try hard boulders. I had fallen off the last move of Mana (V13) twice but couldn’t summon the umph to go and try it again, as it hurt my skin and the wall basks in the sun all day long. One problem that I did manage to try just hard enough on was The Last Resort at Mount Fox. This was originally given V12 and I thought it looked like it would suit my style of climbing; I managed to fall off the last move on my flash and proceeded to fall there for another 4 sessions, can you see a pattern occurring here?! When I did finally stick the move from the bottom it was relief rather than elation that coursed through me; it was definitely time to leave the harder climbing and just enjoy myself for the last two weeks. The Last Resort was by far the hardest boulder I climbed whilst in Australia and after speaking to others I think V13 is probably more realistic.

The Last Resort (V13), Mount Fox. So the last few weeks turned into just going out and doing as much or as little as I wished to each day. The areas around Halls Gap are perfect for this and I think they contain the better easier problems in the Grampians. The rock has similar features to Fontainebleau or the South East in the States but with a bit more texture, almost like gritstone. We’d meet up for coffee in the morning and then head out to play on the boulders, in fact it was probably the most relaxed few weeks I have ever had on a climbing trip and I really enjoyed it.

I also reacquainted myself with going high on the brilliant Eagles Nest (V8), Obelisk (V6) and White Shadow (E6 6B). The latter of these is probably one of the best lines in the Grampians; a perfect 12 metre arête that sits above Bellfield Lake near Halls Gap. For those gritstone aficionados amongst you imagine End of the Affair but much better!

Korean Jesus (V5), The Bleachers. Obelisk (V6), Halls Gap. Photo: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk. White Shadow (E6 6B), The Bleachers. Photo: Simon Weill. Eagles Nest (V8), Northern Grampians. Photo: Mina Leslie-Wujastyk. And that brings the Australia part of our trip to an end, except for a few days spent in Melbourne and on the Peninsula indulging in food, food and more food!

I know over the last few years there has been some mixed reviews on the bouldering in the Grampians and I can see why. My first impressions actually weren’t great; yes there are some world-class boulder problems but I think overall there is a lack of quality throughout the grade range making it not nearly as good for those climbers who operate below V10. However the longer I spent there and the more exploring I did I started to see many more positives. The variety of rock in such a small area makes for interesting and varied climbing and there is potential for so much more to be developed but most of all the people we met and the enthusiasm they had for the area and showing you what it had to offer was motivating and infectious. A big thanks to Damo, Simon, Cliff, Chook and Nat.

Source: David Mason