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Lamp Light Bouldering (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/physical-geography-is-wonderfully.html)
28 December 2012, 5:08 pm
Physical geography is a wonderfully complex and interesting phenomenon! Most males would wholeheartedly agree with this statement as it will be one of their guilty pleasures. Think about it; volcanoes, tsunamis, hurricanes! However, to admit ones interest in such earthly pleasures can act as a very powerful contraceptive. This is not the only downside of constantly changing landscapes- when you live in a temperate zone with a maritime climate it can seriously meddle with your climbing.
This could now turn into the usual rant about all things meteorological. The sky has produced a multitude of precipitation types recently from heavy, to cold, to my personal favourite - horizontal. However all this rain, hail, snow, wind and general misery is to be expected when a boulderer over-winters in the UK. Best be stoic and let it go. No, the particular geographical phenomenon I'm interested in at the moment is associated to the latitudinal position of this green and quite frankly damp land, and the way this affects our seasons.
Summer is a magnificent time of year in the UK, especially when viewed through grey, frost-tinted glasses supplied by a dark January morning. The mind’s eye drifts to endless, balmy evenings of bouldering. The sun beating down, the scent of wild flowers and BBQ's in the air. Frisbees are thrown and dogs slumber untidily in the heat. The problem with the mind’s eye is it’s a hopeless romantic which tends towards the bullshit end of the truth spectrum! Summer in the UK usually means humidity, greasy holds and frustration. The one similarity between the brain’s simulated summer and our actual one is long evenings of light that allow us to adventure out like excited children.
So what of the winter? For most this is the season of training, getting strong and going to the wall. My local wall is heavily laden with temptations: it’s warm, bright, social, it has some of the best espresso for 50 miles and I can even eat like the gourmand I pretend to be there. It's easy to forget the millions of years of geological and erosional processes that sculpted our objects of desire. It's easy to be swayed by the injection- moulded plastic patterns that adorn the overhanging, smooth surfaces of the climbing wall with their perfect, soft landings. What other option is there- its dark by 4 pm in December? Most would not want to venture out on a British winter’s night as most humans are not addicted to good friction, something that is only abundant when it’s frigidly cold. And so we reach an impasse. How do you exploit good winter conditions if they only occur on a working weekday? How can we overcome the power of physical geography? How can we fight back the darkness?
Obviously people have been climbing with lamps since man first managed to compress and bottle gas. However my first glimpse of this exciting world was in Ailefroide, South Western France around 11 years ago. It was a rather glamorous activity practiced by sponsored American climbers seeking out “cool temps.” These individuals saved themselves for evening sessions, skin intact, illuminated by massive Coleman lamps, gliding gracefully up cool rock. The lumpen proletariat (i.e. us) sat around wide eyed, green with jealousy, nursing lacerated fingers from misguided mid-day sessions in the sun. Obviously this was the way forward; however it took me quite a few years to consider the possibilities of after work climbing in the winter months.
I was asked to help a friend with a film project. He had applied to be part of the Extreme Film School, an offshoot of the Kendal Film Festival, and the result was a short film about a big dyno called “Pex and the City” (I played the Sarah Jessica Parker character in this interpretation of the series). During the filming my mate thought it would be good to shoot some scenes at night. A generator was hired with some lights and the scene was set. As with all good plans- everything failed spectacularly. The blame for this expensive misadventure was laid at the door of a fuel tank with water in it. I suspect the real source of our failure was the fact that three incompetent males with no mechanical knowledge were trying to experience adventures beyond their technical means. The lights worked for precisely five minutes and then physical geography won out and re-established the natural (dark) order of things. However, during that brief spell of illumination, my mind drifted back to the glamour of Ailefroide as compared with the routinized indoor rituals of following colours as they twist sinuously up overhanging ply. I went out and bought a two hundred watt gas lamp and spent a winter with my film director friend hanging off sandstone in Merseyside after dark. A revolution had begun.
Lamplight climbing isn’t for everyone! In fact only a particular type of loon enjoys climbing under overhangs or in caves, after dark, in the depths of winter. Luckily the Liverpool Bouldering scene is mostly populated by uber-loons, so there is a demand for post work illumination for those with a Scouse disposition. So where does the merry band of Merseyside malingerers hang out after sundown in the midwinter? What mysterious method is used to push back the darkness and battle the usual certainties of the physical world?
Obviously the sandstone venues of Cheshire lend themselves well to illumination, particularly Pisa wall at Pex and some of the overhanging buttresses at Frodsham. One gas lamp and a lot of psyche was all it needed. These early forays seemed to feed a need that Merseyside alone could not quench and soon our merry band of lamplighters ventured further afield to the greater ranges of North Wales. Pant Y Mwyn became the next venue of choice. The merry band swelled in numbers, as did the number of gas lamps used. The tyranny of darkness was quite literally being banished through superior fire power. Our next move was to be our last; we found the home of lamp lighting, our perfect venue – Parisella’s!
To many, bouldering in Parisella’s cave sums up everything that is bad about Bouldering. A manufactured cave with manufactured holds, suspended above a thick carpet of goat shit, inhabited by media savvy, beany wearing types who indiscriminately wave video cameras at each other. On the other hand you can see it for what it is, a matrix of world class boulder problems no more than a minute from the car, adorned with exquisite moves, virtually weatherproof and perfect for lamplight climbing. We take deck chairs with us when we go. Instead of sitting facing the sea taking in the breathtaking vistas of the North Wales coastline, we always sit facing inwards, attempting to take in the majesty of what is in front of us; our very own nocturnal palace of bouldering.
Finding the spiritual home of lamplight bouldering has led to other changes particularly in terms of the means used to cast light on our cave-bound industry. Man used to exist in caves illuminated by nothing but firelight as sabre-toothed mammals waited for opportunities in the darkness beyond. Evolution and revolution have allowed us to burn compressed gas to light up our playground, whilst souped up, body kitted Citroën Saxos prowl like predators up marine drive. Today, technological advances have led us to cast expensive and unnecessarily wasteful gas lamps aside, leading to a mini revolution in our activities. Electricity and halogen bulbs have changed everything. A fully charged twelve volt leisure battery, an inverter and two 120 watt halogen lamps running off domestic three pin plugs have turned a shady night session in the cave into a near daylight experience. Two powerful lamps are all you need to banish annoying shadows from your problem of desire. Project climbing after the sun leaves our shores becomes a reality, and good conditions become the order of the day.
So I return to thoughts of the physical world and its many nuances and try to isolate what makes lamplight climbing so good. The answer isn’t that it’s better than going to the local climbing wall (even though it is). It isn’t even that you get more time on your projects and are thus are more likely to do them (even though you do and you are). The real allure of lamplight climbing is the feeling that you’ve got away with it; you are climbing outdoors as is right and proper whilst others toil with excess chalk, crowds and music you really would not choose to listen to. When you are lamp lighting you feel like you have beaten physical geography with the power of technology and determination. You stand tall having reversed the natural order, master of your environment having bent the elemental forces that govern all things to your will. With the simple flick of a switch you release a power that is almost intoxicating. It’s a shame that most won’t appreciate the significance of what you are doing; in fact such activities will make you even more unattractive to the opposite sex than an admission that you think hurricanes are ‘kind of cool’!! Anyway if you lust after friction after dark and women aren’t particularity interested in your obsession with slopers, get yourself a lamp, get out there and do battle with nature.
Cheers Owen
(All pictures - Simon Huthwaite)
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Escalade Charentaise – Bouldering in and around Angouleme. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/this-is-very-old-article-written-around.html)
28 December 2012, 5:11 pm
This is a very old article, written around ten years ago, the photos are from a trip that happened around four years ago. I thought I would publish this now in attempt to keep phyche high in one of the wettest winters I can remember. Enjoy!!!!
Words - Owen (SkinnyDog), all photo's from the Richie Crouch Collection.
Easter usually marks the changing of the seasons in Great Britain. We move from the depths of the dark, wet, cold, rainy season to the wondrous mists and dull light of the warm, rainy season. Obviously being a teacher and having two weeks of holiday at this time of year my thoughts drift to which part of Europe I am going to climb in this year. Font usually jumps to mind, but I have been stranded there in 30 degree heat before. Alpine bouldering is definitely an option but I’m holding that ace up my sleeve for summer when it really starts to belt down at home. So where should I go? As per usual I retreat to the computer screen, and the bible of French bouldering – ZeBloc.
ZeBloc is an amazing on-line resource. If you pick the list de spot option on the home page an interactive map of France appears, listing all the bouldering in each department of our nearest neighbour, supplying links to specific websites. You’ve got to hand it to the French; they know how to get the information out there.
I’d heard of bouldering around the French city of Angouleme. Dave Jones’ Rock Climbing Guide to Europe from the early 90’s said the area, west of Font, had the best bouldering in France. In more recent times the climbing in this area has been made famous by Fred Rouhling and his exploits; particularly one F9b route called Akira. It just so happens that my father owns a farm and a gite about an hour’s drive from Angouleme so I thought I would check the area out. I clicked on department 16 (The Charent) on the ZeBloc map and was amazed by what I saw.
The Bouldering.
There are many areas of bouldering around Angouleme. These include Les Eaux Claires and Cothiers which are in the city’s suburbs and Le Champingnon which is 10km south of the city. Les Eaux Claires is the most famous area, as it is where Ebola - Fred Rouhling’s drilled 8a is found. I didn’t visit this spot as friends of mine had been there and said that whilst extensive- it had been spoilt by the French chipping bug. I checked out Cothires (although I didn’t get a chance to climb there) and it is made up of edges and detached pocketed boulders which can only be described as quality. The area I climbed at and really investigated in detail was the Champignon area. With its four separate sectors there is plenty to go at.
Mushrooms and Limestone Waves.
Imagine bouldering on mushrooms. No not ON mushrooms- I would say that heights and psychedelic fungi are a bad mix. I mean imagine bouldering on a perfect mushroom of limestone. This particular boulder (or pinnacle if you want to be precise) gives this area its name, and it really does look like a Chanterelle mushroom. The Mushroom boulder is covered in pockets and slopers without a chip in site. If I had to nominate a boulder for my back garden, I think this would be the one.
The other four sectors at Le Champignon namely, Le Mur, La Fontain, and La Voute are best described as steep fossilised waves of limestone, each around 13 to 15 feet high, peppered with pockets, slopers and the occasional hueco. These edges are so steep they make Raven Tor look like a slab. The climbing is powerful and if you like monos, this is your nirvana.
I’m pleased to say that these crags do not suffer from polish as they don’t seem to be climbed on that much. The area is generally peaceful, even though all sectors are near to the road. One word of warning though, beware old men bearing maps. While I was hanging on the mushroom a friendly, old, round local approached me, interested in what I was doing. I explained that my French was poor, but he quickly forgot this as he explained lots of interesting, unknown and totally unintelligible things to me. I’m not sure if he was real or a figment of my imagination, possibly the mushroom had affected me after all. Anyway he seemed pleased with my use of the area and then as if by magic he produced a map. He showed me parts of France that I did not recognise and will never be able to find again. I was a little bemused by the interchange, but hey he was smiling!
Orientation and Tips.
I flew to Limoges, about an hour and a half from Angouleme. Ryanair fly to this airport from Liverpool, Stansted and East Midlands. All the usual car hire companies serve it and it is it easy to get to the motorway from there. Apparently there are plans for a cheap flight operator to fly direct to Angouleme soon. If you keep up with the websites I’m sure that this new service will be easy to find. Topos to all the areas mentioned and a few more can be found on www.chez.com/charentescalade – click on the spots button on the left of the screen and each area can be viewed. In terms of accommodation there is a Formule 1 in both Angouleme and Limoges. As with all parts of rural France the Charent region is peppered with good quality campsites which are signposted as you drive down the road. Spring and autumn seem to be the best times to climb here, as in the summer it would be far too hot to pull down.
One last word of warning, try and stick to the speed limits as you drive around. I spotted many French Police with speed cameras on the roads. The traffic Police on motorcycles can’t be missed as they look like a contract cleaning firm with attitude and helmets. Their two- tone, blue lapelled uniforms are a poor choice for those in authority. In Britain you might point this out, however in France I think this would be a bad idea. They may take you for a severe scrub and shampoo down at the station.
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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A summer on the road. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/a-summer-on-road.html)
28 December 2012, 5:14 pm
I started bouldering in the late 90s- in 1998 in fact. My early forays were designed to distract me from some of the more enjoyable yet physically taxing aspects of my new life in the urban spaces of Merseyside. As with many things in my life, brief visits to climbing walls and crags quickly led to complete immersion in all aspects of climbing and climbing culture. Guide books, magazines, videos, topos and tall tales were digested greedily and in equal measure. My need to experience climbing physically, mentally and culturally could not be sated. Thirteen years of injury and the shifting sands of life have done little to quench this thirst.
In the late 90s the ultimate expression of being a baggy, beany wearing boulderer was to be involved in a road trip. Ben and Jerry had stepped out of their Pennine playgrounds underscored by the weird musical landscapes provided by Warp Records in “One Summer Bouldering in the Peak” and jumped into a world of beats, base and travel showcased in “The Real Thing.” This video, propelled by the rocket fuel of Ninja Tunes’ various artists changed the lives of many and provided the template for all climbing films that followed. Titles like “Rampage” and “Frequent Flyers” from the States stoked boulderers’ desire to go on the road. Like a crazed furnace man I happily shovelled coal onto the fires of those around me, feeding their burning need to go to venues such as Font, Ailfrode and El Cougal. Many a lad happily hopped onto my train of pure enthusiasm- many a girlfriend wished I could be derailed in some way.
On a road trip distance has no meaning- neither has time. All spatial and temporal measurements are calculated by looking at the number of map pages traversed compared to those yet to come. Towns, cities, countries fly past in a blur of smells, sounds and colour. Blood thickened, senses sharpened by espresso. White lines guide the way, keep you safe, tick, tick, tick by, setting the rhythm of the road. Hypnotised by motion, reality is held within a metal bubble with a windscreen on the world. All existence is fleeting, fluid as it flies by. This intoxicating mix of movement and momentum means no venue or problem seems out of reach, beyond the glare of headlamps searching for experience.
This year, like those of the past, the road trip is king. A thousand miles has disappeared in a day. This summer two thousand miles have evaporated in a couple of weeks. The bays and coves that nestle along the Welsh coastline have been scoured and exploited from north to south in search of the wave-washed booty that may lie within. Familiar haunts have been revisited and reworked; new venues have been found and hot foreign boulders have been plundered for all that they are worth, all to the tick, tick rhythm of the white lines as they stretch away into a myriad of possibilities.
It’s been a good summer to be on the road. Liverpool’s terraces have always ebbed and flowed, swelled and crashed into rollers of discontent on the streets. Urban spaces across the nation suffered a similar fate, burning on the bonfires of inequality, flames fanned by cuts and carelessness. It would be nice to think that the rhythm of the road could open minds and help quell the flames, however it is unlikely. As one character met on a trip this summer said, “London has burned on and off for a thousand years, there is no reason it should stop now or in the future.” So as we remove carrots and rule our urban spaces with sticks again, discontentment will build and we will ride these waves of fury out into the countryside and our playgrounds of possibility in summers to come.
Views from Dinas Pembrokeshire
Dinas is the Welsh word for city. It is strange that in a summer spent escaping city life this word in particular has resonated through the venues I have visited. From Dinas rocks in Glyn Neath and the wonder that is Fat Cat Roof (the blue dolerite above Dinas in Pembrokeshire) to Dinas Dinlle, west of Caernarfon, the launch pad from which new problems were crafted at Porth Dinllaen. The tick, tick rhythm of the lines on the road has led me away from the Urban whilst place names have firmly anchored me to that labyrinth of lives – the city.
Road trips are about escapism- swapping a routine of commuting and working to one where only eating, sleeping and climbing counts. Life becomes a simpler story on a road trip, the pages turn themselves day to day, crag to crag. In this narrative I like to frame myself as the driver; part of the machinery that devours distance, separated from the engine by nothing more than a simple membrane of skin, sensing the surface of the road through the vibrations of the steering wheel. My escape into the process that propels us along the road is secondary to the escape sought in the landscapes at the journey’s end. Carn Enoch and Garn Fawr sit high on a moor that overlooks Newport and the north coast of Pembrokeshire. This boulder field’s position high above Dinas Cross, inhabited by nothing but mountain ponies and sheep, is possibly one of the best in the UK. What the venue lacks in volume it makes up for in atmosphere. There is something ancient and mystical about this place; if you tune in the impression it makes may just help you through those dark, damp urban nights to come.
Some Problems from Dinas Pembrokeshire
Porth Dinllaen is a different beast; separated from a tourist hotspot by the manicured grass of a golf course, escape should be hard to find. However the crowds’ attentions are diverted by sand, beers, ice cream, sandwiches and putters leaving you with leagues of sea and boulders to climb. Half a dozen freestanding boulders serve as a playground for a boulderer looking for sport whilst the family enjoy the foaming waves nearby. The rock here can be sharp and even friable however the elements have sculpted it into shapes that succumb to a gentle mix of care, power and guile. Numerous zawns litter this short stretch of coast, they contain beautiful, dangerous lines waiting for someone who is willing to risk all and engage with the escapism of first ascents above angry landings. The climbing here feels adventurous despite the crowds and their sandcastles a stone’s throw away. Road trips throw up a rich range of experiences, you can take what you like from them. I’m sure someone out there would quite happily consume a post-send ice cream whilst contemplating how they would play the difficult par three, thirteenth hole that lies before them, their golf clubs and bouldering mat.
Sequencial shots of a possible new problem at Porth Dinllaen - Hoobies High Heels font 7a
Summers, like road trips, inevitably come to an end. The time arrives to meld with the car and retrace the steps taken into these rich landscapes of experience, following them back into city structures of concrete, brick, glass, and angst. Returning to the urban seems less melancholy when the journey is fuelled by beats and base, fingertips throbbing, the mind illuminated by the myriad of moves attempted along the way. These mental scenes will light the dark months hiding under the same overhangs and caves that have sustained past winters. Like ants we will swarm over our cities, retreating to the safety of buildings and the enterprise that lies within them. I will try to move mountains with teaspoons for yet another year, hoping that those young people I work with won’t light the urban touch paper again soon, whilst all the time the tick, tick of the road will always be there in my head, inviting me on trips yet to be conceived. As young men waste their lives battling against knowledge, informing me how bored they are, my mind will find an even keel in the plans of the next road trip and the adventures that lie ahead.
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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On the Ropes. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/on-ropes.html)
28 December 2012, 5:16 pm
My climbing is in a bad place at the moment. I’m floundering. Like a prize fighter struggling to compete in a mismatched bout I’m stuck on the ropes; guard held high, weaving and ducking to dodge the blows as they rain around my head. Each successive jab drains my resolve, my psyche. Swollen knuckles, tendonitis, awful skin, muscle pulls and arthritic joints all leave me punch drunk, waiting for the sanctity of the bell; treatment and rest. I scrape through each session, each round, doing enough to stay on my feet, but at what cost? The physical price paid on overhangs, roofs and boulders has always seemed worth it, but now it feels like I’m in trouble; my luck is out, the knockout blow is closer than I ever anticipated. I question my motivations, my drive, my future. Could it be time to throw in the towel?
One thing you have to understand is that I have never had class. I don’t want to be a contender, I don’t want to be somebody, and unlike Eddie in the film “On the Waterfront,” I’m quite happy being a bum. I have always competed against myself in climbing, not my peers. To win was to climb new problems, to go toe to toe with what seemed like an impossible sequence, using guile, persistence and training to knock it down, count it out and move on to the next problem. With youthful elasticity I used to float like a butterfly around my chosen arenas, chest puffed out, buoyed by the arrogance of enthusiasm and devotion to the arts of powerful dynamic movement.
Like all fighters who hang on to their dream, I have made the transition from cocksure challenger to battling journeyman, training harder than ever to stay alive in the ring. Roads are pounded; kilometres drift by in an oxygen-deficient haze. Calories are counted as the need to make my fighting weight takes on an obsessive quality. Hours are burnt on the Beastmaker and campus board, locking ever decreasing holds, throwing further and further to rungs that languish in the aspirational abyss, sparring on plastic indoors hoping to gain a bit of knowledge that might help me undo my next opponent. Constantly driven on by the mantra “What would Jerry do?” The answer to that question is simple; Moffat would train harder and get stronger. He still stung like a bee in the arena of dreams into his forties despite debilitating injuries in his career. Facts like these help when the psyche is beaten out of you, but more is needed to motivate.
Unlike Moffat and Mohammed Ali before him, I don’t have the belief or the drive of a champion. I need something else to drive me onwards through testing and challenging times. For me the thing that has driven me on is the line- that one climb that is on the edge of your current ability, too hard to be sent quickly and yet so tangibly close that it feels like it could go at any time. A worthy adversary, who will give a good clean fight until the last round, an opponent that will draw out all of your physical resources stored from years of training, a nemesis that will grind you down until all that is left is the desire and hunger to succeed, no ambition, no pretence, just you, your fingers and hope.
So here I am again, sat receiving treatment in the corner waiting for the bell and the next round. Split tips are moisturised, glued, and taped, the seconds tick by and the adrenaline begins to flow. I gaze at the might of my opponent looking for a weakness. I need to use my height, my reach- my only advantage in this pound for pound match up. I assess the powerful moves on razor holds in the roof, and the bicep ripping swing to get out of it. I visualise the quick dancing feet needed to get established on the headwall and the left, right, left combination that would lead me to the knockout I so sorely need. The noise of the waterfall behind me and the climbers I share this venue with today disappears into the background as the ringside bays for blood would in the ears of the boxer. Time slows, fingers crack and the tendons flex, the bell rings and it’s time for yet another punishing round.............
Knock out, or knocked down, who knows what will happen in the next round....
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Borth Bouldering – A Slice of Mid Wales Mystery (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/borth-bouldering-slice-of-mid-wales.html)
28 December 2012, 5:21 pm
Sometimes when looking for gold an individual needs to look past the obvious and mine seams of desperate disappointment before a glimpse of a prize may be sighted. Prospecting for new Bouldering in the UK can often reflect the experience of mineral men, scratching for riches amongst thousands of tonnes of valueless rock. The productive, obvious seams that produced some of our proudest problems in Yorkshire and the Peak were exhausted years ago. North Wales’ boulder rush of the late 1990’s seems to have slowed from a torrent to a trickle. At times the prospector feels marooned, stuck on the slag heap of history, wishing a new gold rush would begin.
Obviously glittering nuggets of interest will be found in even the most overworked of boulder fields, particularly as new blood enters old arenas looking to accrue the riches and accolades of a hard first ascent. However we all dream of something bigger, finding a rich vein of rock that can be mined day after day, yielding gem after glittering gem as the seam is worked, refining these minerals in terms of difficulty and quality. Dreams are just that- dreams; electrical impulses of fantasy firing from our synapses. Energising, enthusing, but often for nought. Following the dream of discovery can be frustrating, leading to long wet walks around crumbling boulders, slumbering under their mossy blankets without a glint of gold anywhere. No gems, no return for all that time invested.
Dreams may just be dreams, but disappointment fades over time whilst the lust for gold always remains. New areas are out there! New boulders with lines waiting to succumb to our tools of excavation: chalk, toothbrushes, fingers and boots. People pan for gold because they think there is something to be found. If we stop walking, panning and sifting through this constantly eroding British landscape we might just miss that glimmering glint of quality - the shimmer of potential that lies around the next corner.
I have prospected in many places and beaten a solitary path through miles of mud and scree, however my thirst for discovery still continues to motivate me. This desire has taken me to seams of rock that few, if any, have worked. Wales holds many of these seams. Some I’ve exhausted, others I’ve yet to exploit. Mid Wales is a part of the Principality I’ve returned to time and time again. This area is generally overlooked by the bouldering mainstream, far enough from the mines, quarries, and bouldering melting pots of North Wales to slip under that scenes’ collective radar. Clarach Bay near Aberystwyth was the first place I unearthed potential, however I did not discover this venue - I simply sifted through what was left by others.
I have written about my experiences at Clarach before, and you can find this here. However I always felt that Clarach was the beginning. The problems I climbed were not part of the major deposit of bouldering on this coastline. Rather I suspected that this was merely the glimpse of glitter that pointed to riches hidden elsewhere, a waymarker on to which hope and enthusiasm would be built. Somewhere on the headland that lies between Clarach and the huge expanse of sand that frames the Dovey estuary to the north (Borth,) there had to be something hiding, waiting for its potential to be unearthed.
Every Celtic nation has its own Atlantis story. Tales of a land that lies to the west under the waves, submerged due to man’s careless nature. An ancient land, the loss of which lamented through the ages in myth and song, warns of the destructive force of the sea. The stretch of coast between Clarach, and Borth is the gateway to Wales’ own Atlantis “Cantref Gwailod.” Evidence of an ancient land litters the local beaches. At very low tide a now Petrified Forest lies mangled and buried by Borth’s shifting sands. Stepping over these mighty tree stumps who have witnessed many millennia pass, you get a tangible sense of the age of this coastline. Untouched and unfazed by the hand of recent human history, standing watch over a civilisation lost. Walking from Borth, south towards Clarach sifting through the series of shales looking for climbable lines, the ancient echoes of this coast haunt you. Borth quickly disappears from view and you feel alone, far from civilisation, transported back into a more elemental time populated by Gulls, water and rock.
At first this journey feels futile. The rock is fractured and friable. However lines do begin to appear, rock hardened by the destructive forces that engulfed Cantref Gwailod. The constant attack of the waves and the metronomic motion of the tide have sculpted this malleable medium, hardening it into the occasional gem. These stop you long enough to break out brushes and shoes to pan for the riches that these minerals can give. These gems seem like rare, precious anomalies in the landscape; however they are enough to motivate, to drive you ever further from the bustle and safety of the beaches and closer to the now silent peal of Cantref Gwailod’s warning bells. The journey continues around this shore line, the sound of the lapping waves sooth as the lack of major discovery jarres and disappoints. However, another headland, another bay, the cliffs build, the rock bands thicken, the frequency of discovery increases, as does expectation and enthusiasm.
An hour into the journey, an hour from people, cafes and cars, I stand speechless. I’ve never won anything in my life, however stood there looking at these boulders, some of which are as big as houses, I had a real sense of winning the jackpot, winning the bouldering lottery, gaining riches which would sustain my climbing life for a substantial period of time. The gem- like problems here and there along the coast lead me to this place. No need to sift and pan for gold now, rather an opportunity to exploit a rich seam, where problem after problem has succumbed to this industry between the tides. Wave-washed shales, greywhack, overhangs, mantels, prows, campuses and technical walls climbed at a range of grades have been excavated from the rubble. Others who want to join this gold rush must time their journey well. The long trudge through these ancient stones will bring you to these boulders, however they can only be exploited for three or four hours before the merciless tide rolls in again, engulfing the boulders and everything that lingers there.
Borth Bouldering (http://vimeo.com/26514576) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
I’m not going to tell you where these boulders are exactly. Grid references, GPS, and satellite images that lead you like the Pied Piper to this destination would detract from the adventure, discovery and magic that permeate the climbing experience on this coastline. I have included some videos, and photos that document some of the developments far, this should whet the appetite. This is enough to get you started. Suffice to say, walk along the coast at low tide, follow the base of the cliff and search for the riches. Pick off the problems and let them lead you south to the mother load, the rich seam of wave hardened rock that lies around the headlands out of sight of all save the lost souls of Cantref Gwailod.
Borth Bouldering Continued (http://vimeo.com/26514671) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
The bouldering on this neglected piece of Mid Wales coast line, populated by fishing boats and sea gulls will not be to everyone’s tastes. The ambitious power athlete will find lines that suit here; however the effort that needs to be taken to enjoy these golden problems will put many off. Those who enjoy bouldering within a landscape, not just using it but interacting with it will enjoy this venue. Pulling down on slopey crimps with the smell of brine in your nostrils, the call of the sea birds in your ears and the warmth of the sun on your back is a hypnotic sensory mix that will leave you eager for more. I believe there is more to be mined here. I have only prospected part way round this stretch of coast. If you too lust for the rich experience of hidden lines in Britain’s mineral mix then see what you can find between Clarach and Borth. At low tide with the sun high in the sky the bells of Canterf Gwailod may sing to you from the depths, revealing the secrets held within the shales.
Me scoping the line that became "A Skinny Heel" V6
(Appologies for the rough video edits, but I just wanted to get this information out there, it has been a long time comming)
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Ogmore Bouldering. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/ogmore-bouldering.html)
28 December 2012, 5:23 pm
This article was written some years ago now. Its main focus, the boulder problem ‘Work Hard Canoe Home,’ like many beach boulder problems is no more; consumed by the very elements that created it. Wind, waves and water have turned this wall of limestone into pebbles and sand, dispersed now across the Bristol Channel. The sentiment that prompted the writing of this piece still remains despite the demise of the problem; it points to the fundamental emotions involved in project climbing. It turned out that “Work Hard” was not 7b, more like easy 7a+, but this does not detract from the experience of climbing it. As for Bouldering down at Ogmore, like the rock on its beaches, it has evolved and developed over time and I will highlight some of the developments on this shoreline later.
Owen McShane on the end of Fatneck Special 7b
Obsession by the Sea.
Have you ever got locked into something? A project near your limit, an aesthetic line, or something you’ve just got to do? Boulder problems like these become a personal journey which can tax your mental and physical resources. If you get really obsessed you can open your life to a myriad of potential torments: conditions, strength, skin, and motivation; if any of these are less than perfect you might fail. However you’ll keep on going back because until you’ve done it you won’t really climb well on anything else. It will be there in your subconscious nagging away until it’s done. My climbing life has been littered with such projects, but one really stands out as a tribute to my manic obsessiveness.
Ogmore by Sea.
I’ve been climbing at Ogmore, on the South East coast of Wales, for a long time. I’m actually a Welshman in exile on Merseyside but it won’t be long before I’m a naturalised Scouser, which is no bad thing (after all, I have married one!) Most of my family live in Cardiff, which keeps me grounded Welshside, and leads to many visits to the greatest country on earth. After a bit of research through back issues of old climbing magazines I found out about Hardy’s bay and the Trench at Ogmore. That was six years ago. I fell for the climbing there and have been visiting ever since.
The first time you visit Ogmore you’d think there was no real bouldering here, just a poor limestone conglomerate platform that slopes into the sea. However a walk along the beach at low tide quickly dispels this misconception. The platform has been eroded by our friend the sea to create narrow zawns of perfect bouldering height. The climbing, like its northern cousin Angel Bay, is smooth, hold less and undercut with big frictionless slopers – just how we like it.
The Trench at Ogmore is well known and well documented. An old article in “On the Edge” likened the Trench to “slippery grit by the sea.” I must admit this is a good analogy. There are features to be climbed at this venue, but no real holds until the top. The climbing is technical and brilliant. Grades begin in the fives, and stretch up to 7c (a word of warning though most things here feel hard for the grade). Pebble levels can vary by up to a meter and a half- on one day your problem might be a sit down, the next it’s a jump start!! There are still some unclimbed lines here. Unclimbed lines, now that grabbed your attention didn’t it. Some of these projects are fairly reasonable as most of the climbing in Hardy’s bay area 4 is in the font 5 to 6c grade range, with only the newer lines breaking into the mid 7’s. There is something for everyone here.
Torment.
My fixation, the object I desired, is also found in Hardy’s Bay. In general the climbing is steadier here and it is closer to the car park yielding a good ‘metres climbed to time spent away’ co-efficient. This is a vital mathematical equation to master when you really should be with your long suffering relatives.
Hardy’s has a great circuit and I got to know it inside out. It was at this point that I deviated from the topo and looked for potential – a dark twist on a beach of white limestone. The point is that the potential is there, especially for those who like impossible mantels with no holds (however I don’t).
The line that got me is obvious; a left to right traverse following one line of weakness for fifteen feet, fully undercut so heel hooks and feet in the same weakness is all you’ve got. All of this is followed by slappy moves on generous slopers up the wall just when you are boxed with fatigue.
In its original state this problem had a block jammed under the overhang near the end providing some respite for the feet and making the slappy moves easy. I sent this original problem in one session- it felt good and in the region of 7a. However, instead of feeling happy with my day out on the beach and celebrating with a few kilos of ice cream I felt cheated - the block needed to be eliminated. I had taken my first step into a dark place.
Work Hard Canoe Home
Temptation.
I went back a few months later and my prayers had been answered! Storms had pushed the block further underneath the overhang and it could no longer be used. The line had become pure and I was about to be locked into climbing it. Step two into the dark pit. The new problem was going to be better but a good deal harder, it would have to be worked – from Liverpool! However that was fine; there are only 200 miles, a family and a fulltime job separating these locations.
On another visit I linked the moves and only had the final slaps left. Step three into the pit. The point of no return on a project – nearly doing it and being sooo close. This is also the point at which excuses for failure can be made; I would talk about damp rock, illness, and stress amongst other things but the problem needed to be sent and I lived so far away. I found myself watching the weather for Cardiff, working out the tide times for Ogmore, looking for reasons to return and try the moves. I don’t remember exactly how many times I went back to try the problem, I just remember the looks of pity on my friend’s faces.
The End is Nigh.
My mother was going backpacking somewhere exotic and mentioned that she needed a coat. So I bought her one and of course time waits for no man- she needed it so I would have to drive it down to her! On the four hour drive to Cardiff on a busy, wintery Friday night I started musing on the pointlessness of it all. What if it did not go this time? What if it rained? I convinced myself that beach bouldering dries quickly because of the salt in the atmosphere! I know I was clutching at straws; all that sea water may have had something to say about my salt theory.
I get to Cardiff at 10, bed by 1, up at 7.30, at the crag by 10, warm up, have a first go, fail and try again. Then suddenly it’s done! All that time invested, working the moves, paying for petrol, making excuses... and it’s done. Do all projects end with an anticlimax? As these thoughts swirl around my brain busily occupied fighting endorphins, doubts, and fatigue, the adrenalin begins to fade. The dark cloud that has enveloped my climbing world begins to dissipate, a grin manically stretches across my face and the name comes to me- Work Hard, Canoe Home. The only problem is that I am alone. I want to tell someone- now!! The old women walking their dogs on the beach just won’t understand.
Now is the time to use my phone (this is the real reason why mobiles were invented) - time to text my mates. I tell them about sending the line, how it felt easy and how life is now very good. The only problem with such instant means of communication across vast distances is that your mates’ suspicions about your sanity are confirmed. In one silly moment of elation people know that you have committed to a seven hour 400 mile round trip to climb a boulder problem no one will ever be interested in, that may even have been climbed before.
“That’s nice” or, “Well done” they text back.
I reckon that deep down they’re just as excited as I am – they just don’t have the words or time to fully express their feelings.
Sequential shots of Hip Hop Paper Boi Scandal 7a+
Recent Developments.
I mentioned earlier that “Work Hard Canoe Home” has gone, in fact a whole wall of problems in that area has disappeared, however Hardy’s Bay at Ogmore remains one of my favourite places to climb. There is something about the quality of the slopers here, steep sit-starts coupled with elements of endurance that draw me back visit after visit. Extensive topos for all of Ogmore’s areas can be found by copy and pasting the following link into the task bar of your browser:
http://www.swbg.co.uk/bouldering/ogmore_by_sea/ogmore_by_sea.shtml
The South Wales bouldering website has lots of good information on Ogmore. The sections of this online guide worth visiting are areas 3, 4, 5, and 6. One problem is that it’s Hardy’s bay section (particularly area 4) is now massively out of date, as it has not kept pace with the erosive forces of the Bristol Channel. To save you time, copy and paste this next link into your browser and it will take you to the relevant page for the remaining, recently and fully developed “Daylight robbery” area of Hardy’s bay:
http://www.swbg.co.uk/bouldering/ogmore_by_sea/daylight_robbery_area.shtml
If you need any more encouragement to visit Ogmore, here are some videos from Kev Hughes’s collection. Kev is probably South Wales most active boulderer- his video topo to Dinas in Glyn Neath is proof of this (there will be more about this later in the year) The videos show problems from the Daylight Robbery section (area 4), and the Pebble Dash area (area 5). Enjoy! – Skinny and Hoobs
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Goldsborough – Esoteric Bouldering: Obsession and the move. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/goldsborough-esoteric-bouldering.html)
28 December 2012, 5:25 pm
In quiet moments I quite often consider the nature and expression of sanity, and look at myself to see if these conditions really apply to me. I usually come to the conclusion that I am sane, just a little too enthusiastic about life (others would disagree). However when I explain to my work colleagues that I spend one of my weekend days in temperatures of minus three clawing my way up boulders with numb, injured fingers- they usually pronounce me utterly mad. Consequently I don’t dare tell them about climbing in Welsh caves through winter nights, in a state of sensory deprivation save for the flicker and splutter of a gas lamp. I’m sure questions would be asked, concerned phone calls made, and the relevant authorities would come and pick me up for an extended holiday on full board in a nice, white room.
When taken at face value, climbing in a freezing cave, or under a random overhang in the depths of a wet, British winter is insanity. We now have purpose-built bouldering walls with training aids and cafe’s. Why would anyone choose to freeze? The answer is obsession. It has been said that all males are slightly autistic, unable to deal with their emotions, but able to display an insatiable interest in something. I know people who can tell you the results of football games that precede their birth, or recite the entire back catalogue of a Jungalist record label from the early 1990’s. I can tell you about bouldering venues and problems from across the world that I will never visit. It is this obsession that drives a normally sane, sentient male outdoors in mid-winter. This madness can manifest itself in many ways, either by leading the unsuspecting boulderer to a distant, esoteric yet exotic venue, or by leading them miles from home to attain that perfect moment of achieving “the move.”
Goldsborough.
Pete on Beth's Traverse 7b+
Liverpool is both a fantastic and frustrating place for a boulderer to call home. Our local urban sandstone crags are an acquired taste. Some hate its eliminate or uber-technical nature whilst others revel in its’ graffiti clad, litter-strewn majesty. I know of one very notable local beast who claimed he would not take the opportunity to move to the ecstasy of a lifetime of world class sports climbs in Catalonia until he had floated up Monobloc at Pex Hill; testament indeed to the draw of the lines and the history that surrounds the climbing in Merseyside. Liverpool is perfectly situated for bouldering in Northern Britain; an equal distance from the Pass, Peak Grit, the Lakes and Yorkshire Grit. Everything is an hour and a half away, and herein lies the frustration. Three hours round trip with only a hunch about conditions!! Even with the advent of super-fast mobile means of communication, the picture of potential friction and moisture is never particularly clear. Being surrounded by a ring fence of Britain’s best bouldering there is often little incentive to discover the new and exciting. It is easier to languish in the established, the familiar and the classic. However life needs to be exciting and the path of the lazy boulderer, climbing the same old crumbling eroded problems is a negative one that ultimately leads to disillusionment and retirement.
I have always been drawn to esoteria! Out of the way venues, with quality lines talked about in hushed tones; illuminating the climbing experience with bright flashes of personal discovery. All of this done in a natural arena with no crowds, no fanfare- just friends. I often muse on what makes a venue esoteric? Is it its popularity, its location, or climbing style? I just can’t put my finger on it. If I could I would bottle these elements and sprinkle them over all of our bouldering venues, thus improving everyone’s climbing experience.
Goldsborough Carr is definitely one of these magic, esoteric venues. It sits high on rolling moorland, on the last gasp of the North Eastern Pennines, overlooking Barnard Castle and its surrounding hamlets. The drive from the A66 to the car parking seems to take you further and further from civilisation to a remoteness barely tangible in other parts of England. The crag inhabits a hill and sits solid and squat in a landscape that is reminiscent of Mediterranean table land, but with a lush greenness that only British precipitation can bring. These flat topped vistas permeated by curvaceous valleys are characterised by one overriding sense, and that is of silence, deep brooding silence that is strangely comforting when compared to the hustle and bustle of urban living.
Views from Goldsborough
The fact that Goldsborough has earned its esoteric status mystifies me, this place should be popular. A quick search on climbonline.com (the font of North Eastern climbing knowledge) reveals the fact the Goldsborough has 158 routes and boulder problems. A more detailed search uncovers a PDF topo written by Steve Dunning (one of the main protagonists in this area), the topo is not comprehensive yet it still lists 12 problems of 7a and above, 9 of which are above 7c. Such a high concentration of difficulty is usually associated to the mainstream, not the margins. However as the lichen on the upper walls of these huge roofs stands testament, Goldsborough is very rarely crowded. You are more likely to be entertained by the sing song of a local accent saying “Hello,” as it meanders its way along the coast to coast walk (which traces the valley bottom) than be accosted by the aggressive grunts of someone trying to send! Goldsborough’s esoteric qualities can be attributed to its relative geographical position. County Durham, the region within which Goldsborough is found, is sandwiched between the sculpted lines of Northumberland, and the rough brooding slopers of Yorkshire grit. Goldsborough is reminiscent of both of these neighbouring regions in line and texture, but loses out to both of them. This ‘poor cousin’ status that Co Durham climbing has taken on may be its salvation in time.
The lines at Goldsborough seem to fit into two categories; firstly good old fashioned highballs, problems that actually get route grades (a mixed economy promoted by the invention of the crash pad). The second category is that of the steep roof- these generally finish up the highballs and thus require some stamina. These roofs are characterised by big moves, small holds and an exercise in ‘horizontalism’ that some may consider an art form in its own right. To my mind three lines are worthy of particular attention. First is Jumping Jack Flash, a 6a+ that apes its way along and up the arête of Fiddlers Buttress. Next is Beth’s Traverse a 7b+ that scratches along crimps that trace a line through the steepness, joining Jumping Jack Flash at possibly its best move. The third line brings my thoughts full circle back to the subject of obsession.
Me on Hole Shot 7c
Hole Shot at Goldsborough is a 7c found just right of Beth’s traverse. It shares the same finish as Beth’s, an airy romp up Jumping Jack Flash. I have not climbed this problem. I have not even sent all of its tenuous powerful moves. Some would say it has shut me down, chewed me up, and spat me out! However I can do most of the moves, I can string quite a few of them together; that’s enough to spark an almost autistic interest. The problem has drawn me in. The nuances of the configuration of fingers on holds, the subtle application of body tension, and the flow of dynamic movement all act like a symphony on the senses, leaving an indelible dent on muscle memory, creating a thirst for success. Synapses fire and mental acrobatics are performed instantaneously, turning the negativity of failure into the positivity of “not bad for a first session- psyched to come back.”
The die is cast, a project mentality is initiated and the commitment to days of travelling and failure is made. However this is not a negative occurrence. Giving in to this obsessive behaviour is what project based climbing is all about. In some ways having a project boiling away under the surface of my general climbing life makes me happy. Where better to display such obsession than in the serene silence of the North Eastern Pennines. Goldsborough is great, its esoteric status makes it much better. No one else will be there; they will be in Yorkshire and Northumberland, leaving me to my rather guilty, manic, mad yet satisfying project.
Goldsborough Bouldering (http://vimeo.com/20104121) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
All of the photos used in this post are from the Smooth Pete collection
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Van Deimans and Devils – Tasmania Bouldering. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/van-deimans-and-devils-tasmania.html)
28 December 2012, 5:28 pm
Many of you who daydreamed your way through secondary school geography classes thinking about the boy/girl next door, or those who did not have access to Loony Tunes cartoons (and therefore lead a culturally impoverished existence) may not be aware of the island state of Tasmania. Most of those who have heard of Taz of Tasmania, the arch enemy of Bugs Bunny, best described as a whirlwind of spit and anger that is not too dissimilar to most teenage boys, will still have no idea of where Tasmania is. The percentage of the British climbing population who would firstly find Tasmania on a map, and secondly imagine that there is bouldering potential there would be close to zero; and therein lies the appeal of the place. For someone like me who has a great love for esoteric venues, bouldering in landscapes not in crowds and with a healthy sense of adventure- it’s definitely worth a look.
Tasmania is the island state found south and east of the Australian mainland. Its European history is short- around three hundred years (its indigenous history would stretch back millennia). The islands story is one of convicts, whalers, farmers and mining, littered with cruelty, graft and gritty characters. Life in Tasmania was hard. However it was also the birthplace of the global Green Movement. In the early 1970s it gave birth to the world’s first Green Party; a political party that held the balance of power in Australia’s coalition government at the end of the 1990s. Tasmania has reinvented itself in recent years. It now promotes itself as the natural state; ecologically minded, organic, with almost a third of the island given over to national park. At least two of Tassie’s beaches are considered to be in the top ten in the world, and Tasmania lays claim to the cleanest air on the planet. If you needed a reason to visit, it was right there! Is there any bouldering I hear you ask? The answer is most emphatically, YES.
Long Haul Breakdown (http://vimeo.com/17224480) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Tasmania has a small climbing community, not really surprising as there are only five to six hundred thousand people on the entire island! However those who do boulder are very active indeed. Tasmania is a boulderer’s playground; it is an island full of rock (sandstone, dolerite, and granite being the main types), add to this a dry temperate climate which allows ten months of outdoor climbing a year, and you then have a very interesting package indeed. These factors when added together have conspired to produce an almost bizarre number of strong boulderers per head of climbing population. Of Tasmania’s five hundred thousand inhabitants, around fifty boulder. Of those fifty at least five climb V13, and one climbs as hard as any in the world- the spread of grades across the island reflects this. However, don’t be fooled- there is plenty for everyone as a great number of the best problems on the island rate between V3 and V7 with plenty of bouldering of all grades still to be developed.
The Venues.
Tasmania’s bouldering community is almost unique in its desire to get news of the island’s development out there. A constantly updated website exists with an online guide:
http://www.thesarvo.com/confluence/display/thesarvo/The+Tasmanian+Bouldering+Guide (cut and paste this into your browser to view the site).
“The Tasmanian Bouldering Guide” is a community authored resource which has resulted in the production of a high quality guide. The Guide can be bought as a black and white paperback (cheap), a full colour paperback (expensive) or downloaded as a PDF (free), all from:
http://stores.lulu.com/thesarvo (again cut and paste into your browser to see).
I feel we could all learn from this Tasmanian model of community- generated bouldering resources. Information is generated by the community for the community without the need for financial gain, individual bias, or elitism. A V4 first ascent which is done at someone’s limit is as significant to them as a V13 sent by a media savvy beast- so why not give both achievements the same column inches? So, boulderers of the UK unite! Don’t wait to be sold a new guide to your area, find a consensus and create your own.
The Tasmanian Bouldering Guide lists around 25 separate bouldering locations, with around 1500 documented boulder problems. Many of the venues have a lot to offer, however the best are Oatlands, Handsome Crag, and the granite venues off the East coast- namely Bicheno, and Coles Bay.
Oatlands.
Oatlands is a town just off the Midlands Highway in the centre of Tasmania. It was obviously once a prosperous market town, however it seems to have receded to one horse status with the decline of the local wool trade. Now that the town has been bypassed by the main highway, the one horse seems to have been lead away to the glue factory. On a crisp winter day when conditions are good, you can walk down Oatland’s main street and see no one at all.
What Oatlands does have is sandstone; steep, solid, quality sandstone that will keep you up at night thinking about it. The climbing is on the edge of the old town reservoir. The lake level fluctuates with the seasons and droughts, however the presence of water means that all bouldering sessions are accompanied by a chorus of croaking and the flapping of wings. The grades here go all the way from V0 up to astronomical. This is the hunting ground of local legend Sam Edwards; the guy has sent The Island in Font and did the first ascent of Gold Fish Trombone in Bishop- widely held as one of the hardest problems in the USA. Just looking at a Sam Edwards’ line at Oatlands will simply drain the strength out of you. The bouldering takes place on free standing boulders and edges. There are slabs and other features, however the best problems here are on roofs- big roofs, with big moves. If you like Parasellas’ cave- this is your Nirvana.
Handsome Crag.
This is another sandstone venue, however it contrasts with Oatlands in every possible way. The bouldering is found in the Mountains above the town of New Norfolk, a town with some dubiously narrow genetic codes, surrounded by beautiful, rolling countryside. To get to Handsome Crag you follow a sinuous dirt track populated by some malevolent hairpins. The track deposits you high on a hillside and deep into a world of Tea Tree and Eucalyptus. Climbing here is a multisensory experience; the sounds of Kookaburras laughing and the smells of the undergrowth would reduce most fee paying hippies to tears. However, as boulderers aren’t that sentimental, the free standing boulders here are more than enough to grab your attention.
The bouldering at Handsome Crag sits mostly below the crag itself in three separate sectors. The crag above is crammed with good looking trad lines if you like that sort of thing. I don’t, so you’d have to find out about that for yourself. Each sector is filled to the most part with free standing boulders teeming with slopers and requiring technique. Don’t worry though- roofs, highballs, slabs, walls, and prows can all be found in this extensive boulder field. This venue has something for everyone, and is Tasmania’s version of Font, with lines of all grades and styles and projects to go at. The only question that remains is …. do you have the balls to take on the track to get to it?
Coles Bay and Bisheno.
These east coast venues are something special. Bouldering on granite eggs on a shore line populated by penguins and pounded by some of the best cold water surf in the world. Coles bay is found in the Freycinet National Park, home of Wine Glass Bay, whilst the boulders at Bicheno sit on the shoreline that wraps around this sleepy seaside town. The grades at both venues may not threaten the higher end of the V scale, however the experience of climbing here is very hard to beat.
Coles Bay is the embarking point for three or four different bouldering spots, the best of which is Blue Stone Bay. Before going there check out the Coles bay bakery- I challenge you to find better baked goods accompanied by fantastic coffee and a genuine smile anywhere in the world. If you want to explore the bouldering delights of Freycinet you must pay a national park entry fee, worth every cent to experience the adventure that lies beyond the park gate. Yet another terrifying track takes you to Blue Stone bay. It’s pitted, pot holed surface eventually leads your now adrenaline saturated body to a rudimentary campsite, parking and the odd Kangaroo. Once out of the car, a journey down some hidden steps and a death defying shimmy along a narrow ledge 100 foot above the pounding surf, leads you to a perfect boulder of blue close crystal granite.
To describe these boulders as remote, on their promontory half way down a cliff looking out to sea, is an understatement. You are far from civilisation here. If you hurt yourself, the first humanity will know about it is when Skippy the talking Kangaroo brings your bleached bones back to the nearest town. Having said this don’t miss the opportunity to climb here, the danger, the remoteness, the quality of the lines, the position of the boulders and their outlook make this a unique place to climb; almost magical. Just remember to take friends and pads. I didn’t and my god, I was terrified.
In comparison to Coles and Blue Stone Bay, Bicheno is a rather civilised, almost tame affair. The twenty mile shift north along the coast from Coles sees a real softening in the landscape and lifestyle. You can grab a quick coffee from one of the surfshops/ café’s whilst resting. The sea laps the edge of the granite platforms as you circuit your way around the boulders accompanied by fishing boats and penguins. The granite here is white and rough, good to climb on even when a little damp. There is even an island covered in boulders, which is connected to the shore at low tide by a spit of sand. The views here are breathtaking and the lines are striking. There is even a white sandy beach to lounge on. I’ve glimpsed heaven- it’s called Bicheno.
So what can I say about Tasmania? Should you visit? Is it worth it.....? No it’s not, don’t go, you won’t enjoy it. The pleasant climate, clean air, fantastic food and brilliant bouldering won’t be your cup of tea. The islands friendly population and welcoming climbers will only put you off. The breathtaking scenery will bore you. In conclusion then, stay in Blighty. I’ll go back for you and make sure Tasmania doesn’t feel left out. I’ll easily navigate my way around world class venues with my comprehensive free guide on your behalf. I mean easy access, fantastic lines, and psyched climbers wouldn’t interest boulderers wanting an adventure far from the crowds. You wouldn’t want the perfect bouldering experience at the other end of the world, ....................... or would you?
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Are You Ready for the Breck??? (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/are-you-ready-for-breck.html)
28 December 2012, 5:30 pm
The Breck is an urban quarry in the middle of Wallasey on Merseyside, the other side of the river to Liverpool. It has a rich history and used to be the training ground of past heroes such as Phil Davison, the man who first soloed Right Wall in Llanberis. In recent times the Breck has fallen out of favour. No one really climbs there anymore, and it has become a refuge for those who feel the National Curriculum for Science and Geography is best replaced by a GCSE in litter, broken glass and scrounged cigarettes.
Imagine an old man, overlooked in favour of his more interesting neighbours. After a while someone will break into his home to find him stinking of piss and at death's door. This is the best way to describe the Breck. Some of us in Liverpool, like some form of Help the Aged or Meals on Wheels, are trying to assist this ailing quarry back to health.
The Breck encapsulates all that is good and bad about urban climbing. The floor of the quarry resembles some kind of art installation. If you could remove the dog poo, there’s an arts council grant to be won by anyone who can claim to have arranged the rubbish themselves. The quarry holds a lot of eliminates, out of fashion now, but good moves none the less. Apparently some of these problems were used back in the day to train for Gogarth! Being a boulderer I have no idea what that means, but it sounds good. The Breck also holds many good true or pure lines, as good as anything else on Merseyside and possibly beyond.
The Climbing.
The bouldering can be found on four separate walls of bullet hard sandstone, which at times resembles the grit found in the Lancashire quarries. The climbing generally involves pockets and crimps up walls of increasing steepness.
Granny’s Rock.
This is an isolated pinnacle of rock in the middle of the quarry. It is the first piece of rock to dry in Merseyside and is great to warm up on. Granny’s is the home of the Breck eliminate, with problems going up to V9. The only problem with this pinnacle is its colourful decoration, and in- situ carpet of glass.
Bluebell Wall.
A steep undercut wall / slab with slightly highball technical climbing. Problems range from British 5b to 6b (old money grading I know, but they do work). The climbing here is similar to, and as good as, Pex Hill and for many this is the main action in the quarry.
The Who Wall, and the Back Wall.
Si "Fatneck" Huthwaite bouldering out of the fireplace on the Back wall of the Breck.
The Who wall is limited but it is worth a mention, as it has a meaty high 6a up the middle of its front face. Just down the hill from the Who wall is the Back or Overhanging wall. Put simply this is one of the most impressive sweeps of sandstone on Merseyside. Originally developed as a top roping venue with in situ belay bolts and a route of French 8a, this sector has recently been exploited once again as a bouldering spot. An ascent of the Haston dyno (very highball V10) and Britain’s’ first confirmed British tech 7a move has turned tongues and heads Breckwards. The back wall at the Breck is steep and powerful. Problems follow the lines of the top rope routes and can finish at two thirds height in breaks or large pockets, but this could be seen as a cop out as the lines were originally soloed to the top. When you climb lines on this back wall they don’t seem high, however the amount of air time clocked when jumping off tells you a different story, even from the breaks. Opportunities may still exist for new lines on this wall if you take a boulderer’s perspective, but believe me the problems will be mingingly hard.
Why Bother.
Many people who read this post may wonder what the point is. The Breck on the face of it is a scabby urban quarry with eliminates, it doesn’t sound worth visiting. The point is this; we need to get in there before the old man goes terminal, before he is lost to dog shit, rubbish, kids, fire, and vegetation. Instead of flying off to EASYBOULDER every time there is a cheap flight advertised, let's try and keep our venues going. The Breck, like many other quarry venues across Yorkshire and Lancashire, has a rich history and lots of good climbing. It is worth the small amount of effort visiting these venues to give them a viable future. It only takes a regular show of visitors picking up the odd bit of rubbish, deterring vandalism by just being there, to turn these places around. If we don’t do this we will lose “The Knowledge” held in these places for ever.
Here's a Video of Mike sending the Haston Dyno, ground up with a crux high off the deck, bouldering as nature intended.
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Precipitation, Problems and Pembrokeshire – Newgale Revisited. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/precipitation-problems-and.html)
28 December 2012, 5:31 pm
Driving around Pembrokeshire can be a surreal experience. Black stretches of unmarked tarmac snake through the landscape like serpents of infinite length. The few signs tell you that there is a mile to the next town, however in this part of West Wales a mile is not an actual measurable distance, rather a dreamy period of contemplation, bounded by the high green walls of natural hedgerows teaming with life. I was travelling along one of these lanes on a recent visit and as I rounded a corner I was greeted by a sign that stated “Budgie Babies £7.50 each.” How this sign could possibly be effective on a road driven on by, at most, tens of people a week, I have no idea.
I grew up in Pembrokeshire and when I visit now I am overcome by memories of past good (sometimes wild) times had in the perfect rural idyll. This usually lasts until the rain arrives. It can rain a lot in Pembs which is why it is so green and beautiful; however this is no consolation when well-made climbing plans are disrupted. The upside is that this inevitably leads to Cream Tea Cheer-Up Therapy, something that should be made available on the NHS as an effective cure for depression.
During my last foray into Pembrokeshire I managed an hour of bouldering in two days. Rain stopped play. However that one hour literally left me begging for more. At least the rain encouraged me to explore more of the possible bouldering areas in this quiet county. Some potential was seen, old problems rediscovered, and I came face to face with one of the best coastal boulders I have ever seen.
Trefgarn is a town found between Fishguard and Haverfordwest in the north of Pembrokeshire. There are two crags with bouldering here, Wolf Rock and Maiden’s Castle. As venues they were given a thorough going over in “Anorak – The Pembrokeshire Bouldering Guide” from 1997 (see previous post on how to get hold of this), however much potential remains. I could still recognise
this even through the sheets of rain that were slowly but surely dampening my enthusiasm. The potential lies in the semi highball bracket, however I could not touch it as these lines were wet. The reason I include Trefagarn is this: you can climb there when it is raining as some parts always remain dry.
The rock at Wolf Rock and Maiden’s castle is volcanic and dries very quickly. The scooped wall behind the main pinnacle at Maiden’s never gets wet. This is where my single hour of bouldering was had; and what an hour it was. I rediscovered problems and eliminates I put up ten years ago, yarding between holds on a twenty five to thirty degree overhang whilst everything around me disappeared in the enveloping mist. If you go to Pembrokeshire and its damp this is where you should go.
There are two types of rain in Pembs: type 1– soul destroying damp drizzle and type 2 – oh god there might be a mudslide! For most of the rest of my trip I experienced rain type two. On day two of my fact-finding mission I had cream tea for breakfast, that’s how bad it was. Spirits lifted, and happy in the knowledge that the tide was out, I thought I would investigate Newgale South. Dolph had developed a boulder there in 2001 and being slightly obsessive about Pembrokeshire bouldering I had to go and see it. Within a minute of walking along the beach I was wet. Within three I was soaked and the mission to find Dolph’s Boulder became an exercise in resistance training as my clothes were so weighed down with the contents of the sky.
The bouldering on the northern end of Newgale is well documented and the topo for the caves there can be found in my previous post on Pembrokeshire. The southern end has been a bit of a mystery to me. The Pembs bouldering guide hinted at potential and Dolph said it was good. I had looked before but had come away with nothing. I must confess I did have a “man look” last time; the kind of look a man has in the fridge when looking for something- the kind of look which is followed by a yell to his partner or wife who will then find the item in question. Despite the rain I was determined to find the potential at Newgale South and yelling would not help as my wife was 200 miles away in Liverpool.
To find the bouldering at Newgale South you need to walk south along the beach past the prominent headland and into the maze of small zawns that point out to sea from that point on. All the documented and potential bouldering on this part of the beach is hidden away amongst this jumble. You may walk around and think there is nothing there, however persistence reaps rewards!! If you take the time, this is the potential you will find:
If you are really diligent in your search of this sandstone jungle, you will also find this:
Dolph’s Boulder
It still has project lines on it!! A photo topo of what has been done and what remains can be found by following this link.
http://www.keepandshare.com/doc/2206476/newgale-south-topo-pdf-september-2-2010-2-58-pm-3-6-meg?da=y
When I say this boulder is good- I mean it is really good! Bullet hard sandstone, wave washed and rounded in its lower reaches like a bowling ball. If you needed a reason to motivate yourself to get down to Pembrokeshire to boulder, here it is. Believe me, if you get there and it’s not raining (and you manage to get onto the beach without consuming too many cream teas) you will have a very good session indeed! Even though it was wet gaining the knowledge, Dolph’s Boulder made the absorption of every drop from the sky worth it. Go to Newgale, you won’t regret it.
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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More Welsh Esoteric Venues - Pembrokeshire (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/more-welsh-esoteric-venues-pembrokeshire.html)
28 December 2012, 5:34 pm
Pembrokeshire’s Potential
Most climbers think that there is no bouldering in Pembrokeshire, and why would you think otherwise? The standard trip to Pembrokeshire is a blend of the following ingredients:
• A bank holiday weekend
• Camping at Bosherston
• A traffic jam
• Classic trad routes in Mowing Word and Mother Carey’s Kitchen
• (and most importantly) Cream Tea.
With so much to think about and no established bouldering guide or circuit, the visiting climber seems to have no appetite for unlocking Pembrokeshire’s bouldering potential- or is it the cream teas that stop the hungry from exploring?
Well to those who have made the effort it is clear that Pembrokeshire has a lot of potential and is one of the last unexplored corners of the UK in terms of bouldering. It stands to reason that 180 miles of rocky coastline must yield some problems. When consider the rock types on the peninsula; limestone, sandstone, rhyolite and dolerite, the potential here begins to slip into focus.
There have been a few attempts to buck the trend and develop Pembrokeshire’s bouldering resources. My project here is to bring all the information that exists, past and present, together. This might provide the spark needed to get a scene going- leading to a systematic review of what’s available down there, way out west. You never know, people might travel for the bouldering rather than the trad on those bank holiday weekends. (However, it will take a little more than a bit of bouldering to reduce cream tea consumption.)
The first real bouldering development culminated in the production of “Anorak – Pembrokeshire Bouldering” a fanzine type bouldering guide published in 1997. There was an article in “On the Edge” magazine that people talked about for a while, a few people checked the venues out, sent some significant lines, and then the scene seemed to evaporate. A second attempt to create a buzz around Pembrokeshire’s coast line resulted in a PDF topo for Newgale North. This was written and distributed by Mark Hedge and he did a pretty good job. Mark’s input resulted in some interest and conversations on Ukbouldering. However no real momentum was created, the topo disappeared, and the pace of development in Pembrokeshire raced towards stop once again.
One of the many problems at Maidens Castle, Trefgarn.
So how can we light the touch paper, create a scene and get Pembrokeshire’s many potential locations developed? Well, to start with, here are those original topos- copy and paste these addresses into your web browser and use the information wisely!!
Firstly, here is the original Pembrokeshire bouldering guide – this is an interim version which has dropped a few of the venues from the original and has tried to incorporate photo topo’s and V grades. Use it with caution- it is not comprehensive and it originally only tried to point the way to potential so use it in this way:
www.alunrichardson.co.uk/uploads/pdf/rock%20climbing/pembroke_bouldering_2.04.pdf
Next we have Mark Hedge’s Newgale Guide, this is more comprehensive and useable:
www.keepandshare.com/doc/2007254/newgale-bouldering-guide-pdf-june-24-2010-12-12-pm-12-2-meg?da=y
Below is a picture of the slabs at Newgale North, these slabs create the caves referred to in Mark's guide.
Watch this space over the summer as I intend checking out more of Pembrokeshire’s bouldering spots with development in mind. In the meantime here is a video of a newish problem put up by Dan Warren in Newgale North (also some esoteria on Holyhead Mountain).
Remember the potential is there, it just needs to be unlocked. Use these resources to guide you and see what you can find. However if you do go and find nothing, don’t worry, you can have a cream tea, they are always easy to find.
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Clarach Bay Bouldering (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/clarach-bay-bouldering.html)
28 December 2012, 5:35 pm
Clarach Bay Bouldering – Mid Wales.
Sometimes in climbing you need something to pull you out of the doldrums. Plateaus can be hard to deal with - you feel heavy, uncoordinated and despondent. At these times you just need to get out there and climb, leave the projects behind and get enthusiastic about something. For me enthusiasm is nearly always rekindled by the development of ‘esoteria’, venues which have been discounted by others as being to scrappy, obscure, or to distant to be worth any effort. However to a boulderer disenchanted with projects and the general climbing rat-race present in Britain’s premier bouldering venues, it is these esoteric areas that will yield real excitement, adventure and at times problems of true quality. I was stuck in a deep rut earlier this year until my climbing focus turned to Mid Wales. I was going to visit friends there, and as I was aware, you never know what might be found to cure the climbing funk if you don’t look.
Mid Wales is sparsely populated. Its patchwork landscape of mountains and sea is so beautiful it almost hurts to be there when the sun shines. There is some already well documented bouldering in this region of the principality. Cae Du near Towyn, is well known and well visited by boulderers looking to take their family on a holiday that might, if they are lucky, involve some climbing.
I knew I would be staying in Aberystwyth. Aber is close to Cae Du as the crow flies, but a good hour and a half drive around the Dovey estuary is not an option for quick-fix climbing sessions. Internet searches revealed little in the Aberystwyth area. There were vague possibilities of bouldering on the top of a wet mountain with an hour walk in but nothing practical. Could there really be no bouldering in this area? Would the deep funk of a plateau be magnified by a forced, restless rest period? Well ........ no!
When looking for the magic of esoteric bouldering, persistence is the key. The mountains and bays around Aberystwyth had to yield something! I sent out e–mails, dug a bit deeper, contacted Terry Taylor at midwalesclimbing.com and eventually got a result. A lot of work I know but sometimes the thrill of the chase can be as exciting as the results you uncover, leading to a building of momentum and a return to psyche.
My digging, searching and hard work eventually allowed me to home in on a target- a venue five minutes from Aberystwyth and ten minutes from where I would be staying. Clarach Bay has some sports routes and there were some rumours of bouldering, however most of the leads that reported this place were pretty negative. I’ve never really listened to others so I thought I would find out for myself. Clarach has one other major feature which made it easy for me to ignore the opinions of others- it’s coastal. Many people hate bouldering on the beach, having to judge tides, weather windows and conditions, but I love it. The unique elements of shady caves and the cooling effect of evaporating salt water make coastal locations the only place to climb in a sweaty British summer.
My first visit to Clarach confirmed that my inquisitive and optimistic outlook can be advantageous (ok- it’s can also be annoying). Local climbers had forsaken Clarach in favour of the more popular bouldering of North Wales and the Peak. What they had left for me was by no means world class or even nationally significant- however, it is good. Cool, wave-washed graywhack sandstone overhanging with slopers and crimps, a little friable yes, but nothing serious. I climbed a range of problems from V1 – V7, some of which genuinely hold their own against problems in the Pass – honest!
It’s now summer. I’ve been to Clarach several times and climbed my projects. Psyche is restored by the regenerative qualities of the Mid Wales coastline. If you need to step off the treadmill and find some solitude, try some esoteria – you won’t regret it. There is a video and topo showing my exploits at Clarach below, use them to help you access the bay or as inspiration to find your own little boulderfield to breathe life into and pass on to others who are lacking psyche.
Clarach Bouldering (http://vimeo.com/12636694) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Here's the link for the topo.
http://www.keepandshare.com/doc/1975141/clarach-topo-pdf-june-15-2010-9-16-am-11-7-meg?da=y
Cheers Owen
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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The Seven Foot Dyno Pex Hill (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-seven-foot-dyno-pex-hill_4.html)
4 January 2013, 12:33 pm
(http://www.thebmc.co.uk/Handlers/ArticleImageHandler.ashx?id=5806&index=0&w=605&h=434)Wow it's been a depressing winter so far. No powder blue sky, no friction, and virtually no outdoor action.
The new Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone guide came out Mid October, creating a maelstrom of phyche in my mind, focusing my efforts on all things local. I have visited all the crags in the guide in the last few weeks, called in on some familiar friends, and sought out crags I have never seen before; all done under a thick blanket of gloom covering every inch of rock with a sheen of moisture frustrating all my efforts to put the guide out of date. Yes believe it or not even a crag like Helsby, climbed on since before the beginning of time, history and memory has bouldering potential as yet unrealised. In fact Cheshire and Merseyside still has unclimbed crags which are very good, however there will be more to come on that subject when the deluge abates and the water table allows us to walk rather than wade to crags.
Climbing has been an indoor activity of late, and training for the greater ranges (Font) has been the order of the day. Whilst working hard at the Climbing Hanger Liverpool on inflaming old injuries and creating new ones to share with family and friends, I struck up a conversation with someone regarding the the Seven Foot Dyno at Pex Hill. This is a problem I put up many moons ago when my tendons were elastic and I climbed like a coiled spring full of snap and potential energy. The Seven Footer did not make the Pex eliminate topo in the new guide, and it seems that there still a little confusion on where this baby goes from, so I though I would clear things up once and for all.
The Seven Foot dyno is essentially a harder version of the break to break dyno or "Red Flash" (an affectionate name given to an old car of mine) as it now known on Pisa Wall at Pex Hill. Red flash is a V5 and is clearly and correctly marked on the eliminate topo in the new guide, it goes from holds 6 and 7 to the break. The Seven Foot Dyno is a V8 (font 7B), and it goes from two side pull holds around seven or eight inches below the break where Red Flash starts, on the eliminate topo this would be holds 4 and 5. Obviously this means you need to buy the guide to get your definitive description, however that's a good as the guide is a thing of beauty.
If you don't want to buy the guide here is the now infamous video of the Seven Foot Dyno created by the legendary Oz Fry the man who put the bag into baggy! Enjoy
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Technology, Training, and Porth Ysgo. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/01/technology-training-and-porth-ysgo.html)
12 January 2013, 11:13 pm
[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]Winter Sunshine on the Llyn[/td][/tr]
[/table]We live in a constantly evolving world, where the pace of societal change is dictated by technology's metronome. As this pendulum swings its return time shortens leading to an ever more frenzied rhythm that most look awkward dancing to at best. Some will always get it, look cool and ride the crest of technology's wave whilst the rest of us dad-dance on the fringes of the disco, embarrassed, waiting for an opportunity to sit out.
Social media, communication devices and the amorphous landscapes of the Internet dictate the ebb and flow of change in the present era. I am only to aware of this as I type on my smart phone ready to e-mail to my computer and upload to a blog, a process I obviously struggle with being a dad dance hero who prefers to hover diffidently at the edge of the metaphorical disco. However as I look in to the flashing lights and frenzied movements of the leaders on the dance floor I can't help feel that things are starting to move so fast that no one can keep up. The sources of information about climbing and Bouldering have become so numerous that marshalling all of this news is very much like transporting soup in a colander; most escapes and only the important lumps remain. As an obsessive boulderer it becomes clear that there is too much out there to do and you will never be able to do it all, so it is time to pair things back, take stock and return to the familiar. I can't visit America, South Africa, or Australia in the foreseeable future, but I can go to Font! Now there is a place worth training for in the midst of a typical British winter.
So training is the order of the day, month, or even season. Conscious moments are filled with plywood, plastic, and chalk. The cellar board at the Hanger becomes a second home, a cave of pain whose steep angle shades the eyes from the hyper-reality and luminosity of the indoor experience. Time is marked by reps and sets; minutes are no longer temporal way markers- rather they are disciplined intervals of rest before the next frenzy of activity. Numbers take on a near mystical significance, 1 - 3 - 5, 1 - 4 - 7, 1 - 5 - anything become phrases of communication and aspiration. Things can become very minimal indeed.
There are inherent dangers when indulging the training urge. Flat wooden edges, constant repetition, pre-determined movement and an unhealthy interest in stop watches can have a hypnotic affect. Enthusiasm begins to leech away lost to the ether, the world contracts around you and the whole point of the exercise (to get stronger for a trip or problem) seems to inch further away. Relationships with non climbers become strained, they simply can't comprehend the true meaning of encore and repeater and laugh when they overhear conversations involving woodies. In light of this how can you stay psyched, continue to train and reach the finish line?
One option is to turn to the tidal wave of digital media available, to get your psych on by watching others climb your 'must do' problems. However will this really lead to a resolution of your issues, or is it the path to madness? You Tube and Vimeo hold so many visual Bouldering resources hours of your life can be lost mining these seams; and what lies at the end of them? Nothing substantial, just that same monotony born out of repetition! Click, watch, consume, click, watch, consume; time for another set? The only way out of such a morass is to immerse yourself in a Bouldering experience that can remind you in one hit what its all about. A venue that distills and concentrates everything you want from bouldering- aesthetic lines, lovely holds, breathtaking landscapes and the potential to stretch you to your limits. Bouldering videos can't do these things - Porth Ysgo can.
Ysgo is a strange mistress, moody and unreasonable in the summer, empathetic and forgiving in the winter. My annual yuletide visit was timed to lift me from the deep pit that disciplined training had created. My comrades 'with' arms Hip Hop Ben and Fatneck were optimistic as we tumbled across North Wales in the van, however the journey was anything but dry! We pulled up at the parking and the rain intensified. The walk to the beach left everything drenched besides my undecrackers! It seemed that all was lost; another piss-wet day on a piss-wet weekend punctuating the worst piss-wet year in climbing. My psych was draining, dripping from my coat. We reached the beach and it rained some more. I could almost hear the echoes of "I told you so" resonating from those climbing the steep boards of Merseyside. Then it happened! Ysgo took one look at our plight and she understood. The rain stopped and without the aid of sun or wind, the rock dried!
Dry rock this year has been scarce- almost as hard to find as an honest banker. However if you mix this valuable commodity with the rich, comedic patter which normally emanates from Messrs Hop and Neck then we are beginning to describe a very good day indeed! These comedians deliver their lines like a well practised double act, my own post modern version of the two Ronnies. As they strut along Ysgo's rocky stage I'm reminded of the importance of the social side of climbing for keeping motivation flowing; I don't ever remember a time when a campus rung has made me laugh. We climbed for four hours and the sun even made a cameo appearance in our multi-sensory variety show! Knees bleeding, hands burning, senses sated we headed to Llanberis and Pete's to indulge our need for warm grease and a perfect day was complete.
So now Christmas is over, work has started and the rain continues to fall. I've moved back into my 50 degree hovel at the Climbing Hanger, with its colourful lumpy decor! Life has returned to a routine of crimp pull and rest, minutes pass and a new rep starts. However things are different. Training does not seem pointless, it's worthwhile and focused. Ysgo does that to you. Messing around with mates on the boulder beach, finding dead cows, trying new lines; it helps you focus, it tells you to get stronger so you can get those prized lines done next time. Psych is high and the status of my relationship with the campus board has returned to positive with long term benefits. So let the training continue! In six weeks time I'll be in Font!
Here's a video from our last big trip - don't watch it, go climbing instead!
Font in a NutSack (http://vimeo.com/12637394) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Words and video - Skinny Dog
All Photo's Simon "Fatneck" Huthwaite
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Hunting Bears in the Forest. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/01/hunting-bears-in-forest.html)
23 January 2013, 10:19 pm
?
Every climbing region has a lynch pin, a pivot around which the local scene flexes, articulates, and creates its identity. These individuals are the social glue that keep us climbing together. They stay in contact with disparate groups, working behind the scenes to keep things evolving, fresh, alive. Often the influence and efforts of such individuals are not noticed, lost in the intensity of movement and depravity of comment that so often marks a day out at the crag. However if Bouldering is a culture, they are its architects, creating and recreating the scene in their regional homes.
?
?
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yDEZZEdJ92Q/UPF3oJXPMkI/AAAAAAAAAQA/QHrSwYb-iqE/s320/image-9.jpeg) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yDEZZEdJ92Q/UPF3oJXPMkI/AAAAAAAAAQA/QHrSwYb-iqE/s1600/image-9.jpeg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Fatneck (left) and Hip Hop Ben - Doing their Two Ronnies Routine[/td][/tr]
[/table]In Liverpool, or the Scouse scene, we have Fatneck! Its not that his neck is fat, rather his head is small; its a question of scale apparently. He makes the effort to marshal the ever-growing, morphing threads of social media that weave through modern life. He knows everyone and everyone knows him. He does not involve himself with the tittle tattle of grades and ethics- his energy is channelled elsewhere, into a deeper magic. One flex of his text and an unnatural power is released through the ether, leading to eddies of abbreviated words washing through Liverpool's streets on a Friday night. Often on Saturday mornings Scouse climbers find themselves at the same venue chatting away unaware of why they are there or who is responsible. Fatneck is good, really good but that's because he gained his skills from the master- he learned everything he knows from the Bear.
Sometimes individuals transcend a scene, they break through the barriers that geography and topography present. They unite disparate groups and become a powerful node in a network that can motivate individuals separated by whole countries, even continents. The simple beep of a text from one of these people can conjure a stack of pads and a spotting party under almost any boulder in Europe. The Bear is one of these powerful shamen. He's a shape shifter, inventing and reinventing himself in different locations, increasing his influence and powers wherever he goes.
Traditionally in their natural state Bears are solitary animals shunning the company of others. Not this one. His phone book has created its own dimensions of space and time - it hums as the near infinite number of contacts it stores threaten to burst free causing havoc in the world. His original stomping ground was the flat wastes of the East. He lived in a city on the Humber hunting far and wide, particularly on Pennine Grit and the soft sculpted sandstone of Northumberland, searching for his favoured form of sustenance, the sloper. It was around this time I first met the Bear. A tall man with big hands and his own mystical reputation introduced us. I was instantly taken by the Bear's generosity of spirit and enthusiasm for everything bouldering related; his knowledge, advice and experiences are unparallelled, shared freely and in my own case foolishly and regularly ignored.
The Bear migrated from his lair in the East to the rich feeding grounds of the Derbyshire Peak in order to gorge himself on the rich slopers that are found in abundance there. His new residence more often than not would be The Plantation. He would be found siting astride an avalanche of pads in the cave under the Grand Hotel waiting for rain, mist and snow to clear so he could have careless attempts on the arete of his desire. It was around this time I truly recognised the power the Bear possesses; his ability to motivate men from around Europe to join and partake in fearless deeds. I also glimpsed the ritual from which the Bear's power flows- this filled me with awe and dread in equal measure.
On a lonely hillside in West Yorkshire the Bear was celebrating the day of his birth in a hut owned by a junior paramilitary organisation who swear allegiance to Tigers and Wolves. I presented him with a porcelain smoking baby and a fire breathing nun, gifts that both entertained and horrified those who witnessed them. The Bear initiated his ceremony, drinks flowed and one by one the intoxicated disciples present began to beat out a raucous rhythm on any item they could find: drums, pots, pans, pipes, even the walls. The rhythm rolled on faster and faster until, fearful for my soul, I took myself outside to my tent and the relative safety of sleep. In the morning I slowly and tentatively crept back into the hut, apprehensive, terrified of what I might see. I opened the door to the kitchen and was met by a wall of sound, all signs of human existence had been extinguished from the room save for the Bear stripped to the waist, eyes closed, arms raised, declaring in unison with the Stone Roses that he was 'the resurrection and the light'. The air crackled with energy- the ritual had reached its crescendo and the Bear's powers were renewed for another year. He looked at me spent and senseless, he slurred some words in my direction and took his leave. I went to the boulders at Widdop to try to make sense of what I'd witnessed knowing that only a few humans are capable of such feats. I have seen this ritual performed a few times, particularly by Fatneck as he initiates his annual connection to the ether and thus those around him on the Llyn Peninsula. However at no time since have I seen anything to equal the Bear.
I have seen less of the Bear in recent years. As he continued to roam the hills of Derbyshire in search of the aesthetic I was lured to the dark side, blinded by the allure of crimp and pull, chasing numbers that never end. I have found myself in caves and under overhangs where the darker elements of bouldering live; competitive arenas where debates begin and controversy simmers, ready to boil over into forums and bile. These areas diminish the Bear's power, the limestone burns his skin and the lack of slopers makes him yearn for open spaces and a soaring line. My path on the never ending treadmill of training and projects has left me broken; only halfway along the scale, unable to go any further, diminished in some way. The Bear has experienced change as well; he had taken to the rooves of the nation to earn a crust and so has cast his dwelling in the east adrift on a summer storm. As habitats, seasons and climates change so has his feeding ground. The Bear has always loved the forests of Northern France, a place where his preferred diet can be easily sustained. His feeding there has become more permanent of late and he is more likely to be glimpsed wandering in the dappled Gallic light rather than against the steel-grey skys of the moors.
[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]The sloper, the main dietary requirement of the Bear.[/td][/tr]
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My journey along the limestone road has taught me to appreciate the Bears wisdom once again. I always ignored his advice about aesthetics, and jumping rather than climbing. Now that I'm broken I realise he was right all along. I now search for a soaring line even if the limestone habit is hard to kick. I have begun to reconnect, respond to Fatnecks texts, remove myself from weekly cave-bound pilgrimage. I have reconnected to the nodes controlled by the social shamen of the bouldering scene. The forests of Northern France are now in my sights, sandstone slopers await. In three weeks time Fatneck will guide me on an adventure through the ether and around the Forest; we will hunt for king lines in the playgrounds of princes. If I'm really lucky we might hear the beep of a text or glimpse a Bear somewhere in the woods.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Ruthin Escarpment - Pwllglas Bouldering (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/02/ruthin-escarpment-pwllglas-bouldering.html)
13 February 2013, 9:36 pm
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KIV1CKs-5Nk/UPJ0F-d7aAI/AAAAAAAAAQo/HcBt3RCeLP4/s400/2011-09-03+10.35.29.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KIV1CKs-5Nk/UPJ0F-d7aAI/AAAAAAAAAQo/HcBt3RCeLP4/s1600/2011-09-03+10.35.29.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Butterfly buttress in all of its glory.[/td][/tr]
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My pilgrimages north from Pembrokeshire to Liverpool began at the age of 14. My sister had, without the guidance of a magician, performed a complex vanishing trick which led to her reappearance on Merseyside. I would regularly visit her, hitching lifts with family, friends or even strangers, traversing Wales by a myriad of different paths, with all roads leading me to Bala, funnelling me to Ruthin, Mold and the industrial wastes of Ellesmere Port. One of my regular travelling companions loved the chemical complexes of Cheshire with their cancerous chimneys. As a former urbanite, exiled to a rural existence, he said that the scenes from "Blade runner" that flowed out in front of us polluting eyes, ears, and lungs in equal measure helped to construct his concept of home and sense of belonging. Suffice to say we don't speak anymore.
It is around this time I became aware of the escarpment of limestone that crowns the valley above Pwllglas. As a fourteen year old it was simply a curiosity that interested the eye as we meandered past. However as Liverpool drew me in, firstly as a student and then as a climber, this scarp morphed into a place that needed investigation, somewhere where some sport may lie. However as I settled down in the North West my journeys through the Cambrian Mountains, up and down the Welsh backbone, dwindled and the limestone edge up at Pwllglas melted away as my attention was drawn by grit, rhyolite and sandstone. Over the next fourteen years I would occasionally pass through Pwllglas and rediscover a need to explore its potential only to ignore this impulse again and again.
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6jqGE_VfPWI/UPJz3Q6yaDI/AAAAAAAAAQc/D7cWFDQnsCc/s320/2011-09-03+12.09.27.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Linking one of the sit starts into Flatillary flake.[/td][/tr]
[/table]A rumour pulled me back. Loose words and tall tales got me fired up, potential lines in Clwyd! How could I resist? I hadn't made the connection between the crag spotted in my youth with these stories of unclimbed lines; whispers wafted like seeds on a breeze, passed imprudently from person to person until they took root in the ever-fertile depths of my psyche. All things being equal I wouldn’t have trudged up that Cambrian brow and laid siege to Pwllglas' potential had it not been for Angry Jones. Angry is a complex character misjudged by others. He's not actually angry; he just likes to paint his pictures of the world with a mallet rather than a soft delicate brush! His verbal pallet is wide but he likes the brashness of primary colours, short words with harsh syllables and big meanings. You know where you are with Angry, and if you don't he’ll make you aware of where you've ended up with the minimum of fuss.
We set out for Pwllglas on a wet day with little hope and a scrap of worn paper to guide us. I had the briney goat-punctuated scent of the cave in my nostrils and dreams of projects in Llandudno's upside-down world in my mind's eye. I felt that Clwyd's undulations were no place for a sane climber on a grotty day, Angry had other ideas. He explained in four letters or less why we should commit to the walk in, and I had nothing to counter his rather eloquent explanation. His motivational speech got us there and for this I am eternally grateful. As we trudged through the damp undergrowth and walked along the crags the rumours of potential seemed to morph into wet empty promises; but the overwhelming feeling of a walk wasted disappeared when Butterfly Buttress opened up in front of us.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0D25Lb5Pbvg/UPJ0VF-ghAI/AAAAAAAAAQw/rwMqqTUP1DU/s320/2011-09-03+12.08.55.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Tuffa pulling on the start tothe best of the linkups[/td][/tr]
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Butterfly Buttress is the reason to visit Pwllglas; it sits high above the valley like a Welsh Woodwell with vistas. The buttress is made of a compact, steep, sweeping limestone wall with an undercut base. Sit down starts and link up lines are the beasts you’ll discover here, lurking amongst Lee Proctors sport routes. Just like Woodwell roof climbs inhabit the same space as highballs, however the super-hard lines that set Woodwell apart are hard to find here. What you will find is quality on holds that will keep you coming back for more.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-peEkAe8eGGc/URuwgCM2KhI/AAAAAAAAAWI/rUk7quCoS7o/s320/IMAG0360.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Mark streched out on Andy's start to Flatilary flake[/td][/tr]
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We went back! We went back several times and we took Manchessie Si with us. He’s a man-mountain made of biceps and beta, with the uncanny knack of unlocking the sequences that would eventually coax this crag out of its obscurity. Two lines existed before we got there, Flatillary Flake and the Butterfly Collector- by the time our activities had waned ten new sit-downs and link-ups had appeared. The best of the bunch would be Si's start to the Butterfly Collector, Andy's start to Flatilary Flake, and the not so eliminate Cassius Clay. All three of these problems weigh in around the 7a or 7a+ mark and are worth the journey up the hill. Details of our exploits can be found here:
http://www.northwalesbouldering.com/newsitem.asp?nsid=550
Topos can be found here:
http://www.northwalesbouldering.com/upload/members/Ruthin%20topo%20V6.jpg
One word of warning- ignore the grades we gave to these problems, they were ball park figures that, with subsequent ascents proved to be slightly inflated. Others visited Butterfly buttress, left their mark, lifting the crag from its once esoteric status to a venue worth visiting in its own right. Even the legendary Ben Showtime Farley graced the crag with a visitation, displaying his silky skills and flawless technique on more than one occasion; this fact alone must conclusively confirm Pwllglas to be a limestone crag of some merit.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y6xbzkU-Xdo/URuw_JHe6eI/AAAAAAAAAWc/ly9seSD93vY/s320/IMAG0350.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Alec pulling shapes on the Butterfly collector.[/td][/tr]
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Many things of little significance to most have occurred on that hill on the edge of the Clwyidian range. Angry fell in love, a love that could not transcend the duel barriers of species and gender! Fletcher the Lurcher, all legs and affection, was rescued by Andy and introduced to the outside world on that limestone hill. Manchessie became a hero, rescuing me from certain breaks and embarrassment as I plummeted from the top of the crag whilst topping out on a jug that just wouldn't stay put. I had enough air time to plan which limb I would sacrifice, I also yelped like a little puppy as the ground approached (why be manly about it?). I think if you’re going to hospital its best to display your vulnerability before anything major happens, it helps the professionals know what they are dealing with. There is no point being brave, your frailties will only be exposed later on. I escaped unscathed, Manchessie however was bruised, battered, and out of climbing for a week after his instinctive intervention. The scouse crowd also adopted a new member under the shadow of the Butterfly Collector, however I’m sure Alec would sprint for his VW camper if he knew he was now considered one of us. Smooth Pete almost lost his thumb when he decided that this extremity would be the most elastic, forgiving thing to land on from height. Manchessie, in the quest for new lines, regularly removed rocks from the buttress like the quarrymen of old looking for building materials and again injuring himself in the process. It has to be said that days at Pwllglas are never boring. It's worth the effort to walk up to that last gasp of the Cambrian Hills and sample the climbing; believe me it will draw you in.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Pex Hill - problem of the week! (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/02/pex-hill-problem-of-week.html)
23 February 2013, 6:06 pm
This post will be the first of many written for Merseysiders, and those interested in Pisa Wall eliminates specifically. The purpose of this series is to show how the eliminates on Pisa are climbed, and to help to sustain people's interest in Merseyside Bouldering; the more people get to our venues and make their presence felt the thinner the carpets of glass at the base of the crags will become. The recent publication of the Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone guide has introduced many to a local resource and has revealed the potential that still remains to others. For me a lot of the quality problems on Merseyside are eliminates, hated by many but cherished by the devotee. These short snippets of prescribed rule-based movement may not stand up to the equivalent problem in Font, but my word they will get you strong, they will make you think, and they'll keep you coming back for more!
To truly understand the information given here you will need the new Cheshire guide; you can purchase it from here:
http://www.thebmc.co.uk/kop-a-load-of-the-new-bmc-cheshire--merseyside-sandstone-guide.
You will need to refer to the Pisa Wall Eliminate Bouldering section written by Ben Farley, page 174 to 179 (more specifically pages 178 and 179) where Ben has produced an excellent photo topo with all the holds on Pisa wall numbered.
[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]The bible of Pisa Wall eliminates.[/td][/tr]
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Week 1 - This week's problem is probably the most popular on the wall and, by my reckoning, soft at the grade; so get on it.
Silly Boy - V4.
Start matched on hold 7, reach up with the right hand to hold 21, move your left foot up to stabilise yourself, bring your left to hold 20, move your feet to bring your body weight over to the right, lock up to the small crimp/pocket with the right hand, get a left foot up and pop to the break with either hand.
Silly Boy V4 (http://vimeo.com/60314628) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Top Tip
Using a three finger stack in the rounded dishes (holds 20 and 21), will make things a lot easier.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Ruthin Reloaded - Pwllglas Project Finally Falls. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/02/ruthin-reloaded-pwllglas-project.html)
24 February 2013, 8:34 pm
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YNYjwTbebBo/USpOvM4JE7I/AAAAAAAAAhI/wZyIMZ_hwM8/s400/DSC00022.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YNYjwTbebBo/USpOvM4JE7I/AAAAAAAAAhI/wZyIMZ_hwM8/s1600/DSC00022.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Skinny Dogs always look miserable when humans are trying to link problems.
?[/td][/tr]
[/table]Projecting power endurance lines is always a soul destroying activity: You train, you get strong, you travel to the crag, you warm up, you fail on the crux and realise that you will need to make another twenty hand movements before you have even a chance of a send that day; a few more attempts and you have made a hundred moves and yet come away with nothing. This has the been the cycle of things for me at Pwllglass for the last year or so, continually trying my object of desire, and always returning home with my tail between my legs.
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_wJMnsiDe-c/USpPErpavDI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/tmSKr2_l8fU/s320/DSC00027.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_wJMnsiDe-c/USpPErpavDI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/tmSKr2_l8fU/s1600/DSC00027.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Angry Jones showing the way on one of the easier problems at Pwllglas.
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[/table]Today was different, I can't put my finger on what changed: Angry Jones was with me and possibly his unique brand of life coaching had a positive effect, alternatively four days of failure in Font may have forced me to finally get things sorted. One fact that I am certain of is that the weather did not help. It was baltic, and my fingers burned with the cold as I hit the final jug, but hit the jug I did and thus my pilgrimages of failure to Ruthin can finally stop.
The problem starts sitting on a prominent chalky jug down and left of the big flatty that marks the start of the problem Another Million. Moves on slots and small holds allow you to trace the lip of the overhang rightwards until you reach a rest on the flatty. From here long moves on small crimps and a choice of flatties lead to Fritillary Flake and the finish. The back wall is in for feet, obviously the big detached block under the flatty of Another Million is not. I've called the problem Lead Rain after an autumnal incident at this very same crag which involved some men with guns, a cross wind and some very worried boulderers. I think its comes in around the 7b mark and is well worth the walk up the hill. If that description is too vague a video of the first ascent can be seen below.
Lead Rain 7B (http://vimeo.com/60386449) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Pex Problem of the week # 2 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/03/pex-problem-of-week-2.html)
1 March 2013, 5:34 pm
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-opWEEN2wr-I/US-oKN5FBlI/AAAAAAAAAn4/xUpOZDTAJ4c/s400/DSC00036.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-opWEEN2wr-I/US-oKN5FBlI/AAAAAAAAAn4/xUpOZDTAJ4c/s1600/DSC00036.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The pathway to eliminate heaven.[/td][/tr]
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Remember you will need to refer to pages 178 and 179 of the new Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone guide for this adventure into the world of elimination to make sense!
Week 2 - Stretch V4.
I must admit I had not done this problem before starting the filming of this series. I had done all the individual moves in other eliminates, but not strung them together in this choreographed way. This problem is a Farley guidebook special, a shining example of what brilliance and balance can produce! Needless to say this feels hard for its grade and is a definite step up from Silly Boy.
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Kl4280pkoMQ/US-oJLzPlQI/AAAAAAAAAnw/-jUeQ5-K0m8/s320/DSC00037.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Kl4280pkoMQ/US-oJLzPlQI/AAAAAAAAAnw/-jUeQ5-K0m8/s1600/DSC00037.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]A playground of possibilities?[/td][/tr]
[/table]Three elements will lead an aspiring ascentionist along the pathway to success on this problem:
1. Use the power of the three finger stack. Excluding the start hold, all holds on this problem were made for stacking, this problem embodies all that is good in a world defined by this strange art.
2. Clean the holds. It's amazing what a soft bristled brush can do to the frictional properties of these dish like holds! Removing the layer of chalk and grime that inevitably builds up on them over time can turn a marginal, frictionless mess into a skin rasping lockable hold.
3. Use those feet to gain height; your biceps won't help you here. Pisa wall is all about foot work. Dance your feet along its pockets and ledges and victory will be yours- pull too hard on those dishes and all that will be left on the wall will be your hard earned skin.
The problem starts sitting matched on hold 2. Move your weight to the left and reach up with your left hand to the first three finger stack in hold 11. Kick your right leg through to the left to create a funky flag and reach up over the top with the right to stack number two in hold 20. Now the magic starts; move your bodyweight way over to the left by dancing across the dimples lurking at the bottom of the wall. With your left foot high and right hand securely locked onto hold 20, reach up with the left to hold 27, keep reaching, reach some more and when you think you've extended to your limit reach that little bit extra into the hold. At this point you will wish that you had spent some time cleaning: the dish (27) which forces the third successive stack on this problem is good but feels terrible if overly chalky. Once latched use your feet to gain the necessary height and go for the break like you mean it!
Stretch embodies all of the subtle elements that make Pisa Bouldering such an addictive activity; its balancey, technical, reachy and involves stacks! This is a must do problem for the aspiring Pex hill Warrior!
Stretch V4 (http://vimeo.com/60770651) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Pex Problem of the week #3 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/03/pex-problem-of-week-3.html)
8 March 2013, 7:35 pm
Remember the Pex eliminate topo which nestles inside the New Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone guide is needed to make sense of this post
Red Flash - V5.
For me this is one of the quintessential problems of Pisa wall; it is what slightly overhanging walls with big holds were invented for - flight (dynos to you and me!). Red Flash is used as a staging post for many on their journey along the sinuous path that leads to the Seven Foot Dyno which also inhabits this section of wall, however it can stand on its own as a dyno of merit and quality.
This week's problem gained its name from a legendary vehicle that taxied Liverpool's bouldering scene around the motorways of the UK in the mid naughties. Red was a feisty 1.4 Astra that could accommodate five willing (or at times unwilling) passengers, their pads, their kit and their psyche! This vehicle was a veritable tardis whose mystical qualities extended to its acoustic abilities; if you wound the front windows down an inch and cranked the Jungle up, it metamorphosised into a living, breathing bass cannon; an organic speaker unit of which you were an integral component. Flash would often be spotted undertaking in the slow lane at breakneck speeds, those interred on the back seat holding up handwritten notes for other motorists. "Help me I've been Kidnapped" would regularly be read by those who actually adhere to the highway code. Flash blew up twice whilst out on duty serving the climbing needs of Merseyside's bouldering lieutenants. He is missed by many- brave in the face of adversity, decorated for deeds beyond the means of his motorised peers. I will apologise now if this eulogy has opened old wounds for some- Flash is gone, but not forgotten!
Right, back to the problem. This one is obviously hard to describe but I will try my utmost to get you through its complex technical moves as efficiently as I can. Take hold 6 with the left hand and hold 7 with the right, put your left foot in a pock mark and put you right foot high on hold 1. From this position sway down once and leap to the next break with the right, on the way up stay close to the wall, then it's a matter of latch, match, and dispatch.
Red Flash V5 (http://vimeo.com/61299386) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Pex problem of the week #4. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/03/pex-problem-of-week-4.html)
15 March 2013, 8:59 pm
This week's adventures through the numbered holds on pages 178 and 179 of the Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone guide illustrates that different approaches can lead to the same result when ordering from the eliminate menu.
Silly Boy Direct V5 (Done two ways).
This problem is essentially a harder version of Silly Boy V4, however it is amazing how removing one key ingredient can change the flavour and overall feel of a problem: in this case removing hold 38 (a small crimpy mono) turns Silly Boy into a far more robust dish.
Two main methods can be used on this problem; these methods will appeal to very different palates. The first is the way I originally climbed Silly Boy- it is a brash, flash-fried affair, fleeting, fresh and bursting with big flavours. The second is a slower, more controlled dish that allows flavour to mingle, develop and yet still allows a bit a spice to come through at the end. This second method is my preferred preparation for this problem; it is subtle, delivering a more rounded, fuller experience of the Pex eliminate!
Method 1 - The Dyno.
Start matched on hold 7 with feet in low pock marks, move the right hand up to a three finger stack in hold 21, put the left foot up on hold 1 for balance and move the left hand to a stack in hold 20. Now place the right food high on the ledge next to hold 3, lean your body weight to the right so it almost feels like you're laybacking the hand holds, dip down once and dyno to the break.
Boy Direct V5 (method 1) (http://vimeo.com/61824824) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Method 2 - The Rock Over.
As for method 1 however, once you've gained the stacks in holds 20 and 21, swap feet on hold 1, lean to the right and place your left foot deep into hold 6 making sure it is square to the wall. Now slowly move your weight over to the left until you have gained as much height as you can. You'll end up short but a small pop to the jug in the break will release the complex flavours you've been seeking.
Silly Boy Direct V5 (method 2) (http://vimeo.com/61824825) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
So there you have it, slow cooked and complex, or flash fried and fresh! When it comes to Pex eliminates you really can indulge yourself with the dishes that suit your particular tastes.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Never Forget Frodsham. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/03/never-forget-frodsham.html)
22 March 2013, 6:58 pm
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AI-6GiLjtes/UUoWFwCvIrI/AAAAAAAAAto/vznFhn2QES4/s400/DSC00087.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AI-6GiLjtes/UUoWFwCvIrI/AAAAAAAAAto/vznFhn2QES4/s1600/DSC00087.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Views to the Mersey from Woodhouse Hill.[/td][/tr]
[/table]The southern side of the Mersey Estuary is dominated by a series of high bluffs that bound the river from Runcorn to Helsby. These steep banks have in previous epochs repelled the spread of the river, hemmed it in, corralled its waters and directed them to their destination. In recent times they have stood watch over the march of human progress. On the plain below, mans industrial ambitions have ebbed and flowed with the estuarys' tides. Salt, chemicals and fuel have shaped the shadows cast by these hills and towns; trade and transport have also played their part in this evolution. As the landscape shifted and shaped, the hills looked on impassively, crowned by sandstone crags that burnt red, orange and umber in the fading light of a future that was to be built in smoke, sweat and progress.
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0dn-fqlIcOw/UUoWAFbvuZI/AAAAAAAAAtg/jLnJrU5E324/s400/DSC00089.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0dn-fqlIcOw/UUoWAFbvuZI/AAAAAAAAAtg/jLnJrU5E324/s1600/DSC00089.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Alec climbing through the steepness.[/td][/tr]
[/table]Cheshire's estuarine hills have served as an antidote to its industrial ills for centuries. The crags that populate this ridge have fascinated and frustrated many generations of Merseysiders, providing a welcome distraction from the man-made and mundane. Helsby's crag towers above the valley; its ramparts and flutings mimic those found in the land of castles to the west. This was once a forcing ground for climbing standards, however things are quiet now. Frogsmouth Quarry on Runcorn Heath is the place for Merseysiders to be seen now that its walls have been decorated with shiny bolts and pigtails but, despite being in vogue with its new look, Frogsmouth still doesn't pull in climbing's top models. One other venue far more suited to the tastes of the boulderer sits on the ridge; yet, overshadowed by the reputation and accessibility of its neighbours, it has become a quiet place. However if you live near the heartlands of North West Sandstone Bouldering you would be crazy to forget Frodsham.
Frodsham's crags sit on the crest of Woodhouse Hill to the west of town. A steep, wooded path leads you up to a series of buttresses that stretch the length of the bluff. In terms of height these red and ochre sandstone outcrops range from three to eight metres, or in other terms, from bouldering to highballing to suicidal stupidity. The common thread that binds all of Frodshams' buttresses is that they are steep- they overhang, majestically shading those who play here from the worst of the Mersey's weather.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-APFhymyrpf0/UUoWq6gaVwI/AAAAAAAAAt4/5gN9hEB4OIA/s320/DSC00095.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-APFhymyrpf0/UUoWq6gaVwI/AAAAAAAAAt4/5gN9hEB4OIA/s1600/DSC00095.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Ochre rock and hard eliminates up on the hill.[/td][/tr]
[/table] Frodsham is a peaceful place, a tapestry of trees, rock and traditions, developed by Banner, Boysen, and Crew. Frodsham sits proud in both its natural and historical landscapes. Climbing a pure line here is like breathing life back into greatness, playing on lines that heroes forged back in the sixties. Each line has a character of its own, super steep and juggy, technical and thin; all personality types are represented. Super hard, pure lines may be hard to find (the majority of the climbs found here are in the sub V5 category) however you'll be glad that the holds are big when you're stretched out, fully horizontal, ten feet above the ground with a heel toe engaged. Those who want their grades big and their fingers tested to destruction should not turn away from the rock on Woodhouse hill; there are plenty of hard eliminates up there on the brow- however I'll talk about them another time.
(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DDHda7Q_eCo/UUoWstZwJzI/AAAAAAAAAuE/pXmCdkG_Fqc/s320/DSC00100.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DDHda7Q_eCo/UUoWstZwJzI/AAAAAAAAAuE/pXmCdkG_Fqc/s1600/DSC00100.JPG)
Frodsham's heyday is far behind it now and, like shipping on the Mersey, the volume of human traffic on the hill has wained. The watery tributary that washes the hills feet once attracted the heavyweights of the shipping world: Blue Funnel, White Star, and Cunard - but these great vessels are long gone, forgotten. The present titans of climbing no longer follow that wooded path up to the buttresses on Woodhouse Hill; however the heroes who developed it can still be seen on a summer's evening swinging through the steepness. Tom Leppert and Martin Boyson are rarely wrong! Frodsham has been good enough for these legends for fifty years now, believe me its good enough for you.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Pex Problem of the Week #5 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/03/pex-problem-of-week-5.html)
28 March 2013, 4:31 pm
This week we will deviate from the norm into a world where aspirant ascentionists prowl along the base of Pisa Wall lobster-like, fingers frozen into three finger stacks ready to claw at the wall. The problem described in this post involves a different species of hold which is also commonly found in this habitat; the small crimp.
Small Snick Sit down V5.
This particular problem does not feature in the Pex eliminate section of the Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone guide (remember you will need the topo on pages 178 and 179) however, whilst off page, this problem is one of the best! Balance, strong fingers and a bit of technique are needed to breathe life into this (at first glance anyway) unlikely creation.
Start sitting with both hands on hold.number 2. The left foot should be in a pock mark down and left, the right on a clean ripple out to the right. Pull up off the floor and move your weight over your left foot. Flick the left hand to hold 13 and take it as a gaston and pull the hold into your shoulder. Next put the right foot into a good high pock mark just down and left of hold 2. Now you're set! Shoulder press off the left hand, rock over onto the right foot, finger press with the right hand to gain height and keep in balance. The right hand needs to get to the mono / small crimp which is hold 38; the only way to get there is to stretch and get over that right foot, the left hand and shoulder need to be strong and they need to press it out. Once you get your right to hold 38 get the left foot up and left onto a good hold and reach up left to the break. Match and jump off with burning fingertips and well worked lats.
Small Snick sit down start V5 (http://vimeo.com/62803228) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Pex Problem of the Week #6 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/04/pex-problem-of-week-6_8497.html)
5 April 2013, 9:31 am
Last week we went off-page and explored one of the pisa problems dredged up from the murky mires of my mind. This week our normal service resumes. There are individuals who have been waiting for this week's problem for some time; I make no apologies if I gush slightly in my description as it is one of the best problems I have done anywhere at any time. So turn to pages 178 and 179 of the Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone guide and we will begin:
Vitalite - V6
Vitalite is the jewel in Pisa's crown; yes there are harder problems and yes it is an eliminate, however climbing with three finger stacks does not get better than this. The quality of movement on this problem means that as an entity it transcends its location, environment, and the circumstances of its creation. If it were pure this problem would have stars- lots of them (and I would still want to give it more)! Subtle and frustrating, delicate and powerful, Vitalite has it all. This problem deserves special attention; it should stand proud, pure, the only problem on a huge boulder sitting majestically in an unspoilt landscape. Unfortunately Vitalite calls Pex its home but remains undiminished by that fact.
First you will want to go and fetch a brush from your bag, one with very soft bristles that will clean rather than scrape chalk from the surface of this sandstone. Next find holds 16, 21, and 22 (there is no point committing to this endeavour if it is sullied by excess stale chalk- you won't appreciate the true feel of the rock and upward progress will be hard to achieve). Finally, before you begin to climb, step back, breathe in and know that you are about to try one of the best.
Start by matching hold 3, your right foot should be buried in a low pock mark, your left should be high on hold 1 firmly set square to the wall. Now reach up high with the left to hold 16 (to do this you will need to drop your right shoulder to such an extent that it feels like you're looking at the floor). Hold 16 is a very marginal three finger stack, to lock it you will need to take your right foot out of its low resting place, kick it to a deep flag out to the left, find the point of balance and reach with your right to hold 21. Breathe! You should be holding 21 with a stack and it should feel like a gaston (your right elbow should be high), rock up onto your left foot and hit hold 22 as an opposition stack. Squeeze! Swap feet on hold 1, bury your left foot deep into hold six, again with your heel sitting square to the wall start to rock over. At this point you'll appreciate all the cleaning you have done- you've been holding hold 21 for a long time and now you have to shoulder press off it. Press off the right hand, rock onto the left foot until you reach the break. Match, stop, think... Take some time to savour the moment. Jump down, pack up your things and go home, you won't climb anything better this session!
Vitalite V6 (http://vimeo.com/63353953) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Feel the lick of the Leviathan. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/04/feel-lick-of-leviathan.html)
10 April 2013, 4:54 pm
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wo5wt7nNJSs/UWWB_v8sP9I/AAAAAAAAA4k/kq9EDUwMTUQ/s400/DSC00101.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wo5wt7nNJSs/UWWB_v8sP9I/AAAAAAAAA4k/kq9EDUwMTUQ/s1600/DSC00101.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]There be sea monsters down there at Borth[/td][/tr]
[/table]In Ellsemere Port over Easter bank holiday weekend they have an international sea shanty festival. I found out about it immediately after the event this year. The sense of disappointment I felt at missing this jamboree was crushing. Unbeknownst to the festival organisers I had grown a fisherman's beard and would have walked tall in this world of facial hair and cable-knit jumpers; a wasted opportunity for which a warm chin in cold weather was no real comfort or consolation. The briny, barnacled world of sea shanties fascinates me: old men in canvas coats and flat caps smoking porcelain pipes, creating close harmonies of times under the sail, stars and moon. This subculture still has a faint whiff of piracy about it, not the type that infringes copyright, rather the dastardly variety that reeks of daring deeds and rum. It's odd that Ellsmere holds this festival. Even with its estuarine position and industrial jetties the town seems divorced from the sea, held hostage by the motorway that now bisects it and provides its life blood.
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xev8emd75Vs/UWWDU0cYFPI/AAAAAAAAA5o/jb1IeTFahJ8/s320/DSC00128.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xev8emd75Vs/UWWDU0cYFPI/AAAAAAAAA5o/jb1IeTFahJ8/s1600/DSC00128.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Now that's what I call a sea shanty beard.[/td][/tr]
[/table]Shanties and songs of the sea were used to motivate and coordinate repetitive tasks undertaken by those who lived under the sail. The Chantyman would lead: he would call the line and the crew would echo his words as they heaved the sail or raised the anchor. In this way tales would be told, and the histories of those who existed in the space suspended between sea and soil would take on their own forms. Stories developed their own energy and life, twisting and evolving into fantastical shapes as they voyaged around the globe and through time, propelled by the winds of adventure. The Chantyman called the line with promises of beasts, battles and booty; the young and strong followed his call to the shore and beyond!
Stories of monsters have always drifted across the seas: The Cracken, The Leviathan, sea serpents and giant whales have fuelled the rhythms of the Chantyman. These beasts have poured fear into the hearts of those on both land and sea, their reputations as fierce as the stories that created them. Legends like these draw out the brave, stupid and strong; young men who set out to sea to make a name for themselves, to fight and become immortalised in the words of the Chantyman.
Whilst my stupidity is well known I am neither brave nor strong, if I chant you a line, will you follow my song?
I spend a lot of my time walking the line between sea and soil finding wave-washed gems to ascend. Ogmore, Ysgo and Dinellain have all been plundered producing tales to motivate others. Songs of slopers and overhangs, barnacles and biceps drift along these shores. Mid Wales has been one of my main muses for some time: Clarach and Borth have both had me echoing their call, hauling me back again and again to see what new tales lie around the corner.
A recent trip across the ancient sands and shales of mid wales revealed a terrifying secret to me, one I will share; what you do with this information is beyond my control. I was trawling the rich coastline at Borth looking for fine, slick slopers of such quality they would drive a boulderer mad. As I assessed the coastline my eyes were drawn to a darkness in the cliff line, something was brooding there in the shadows, something that did not sit well with my conscience. I went to investigate. I did not know what lay there beyond the depths of my perception. What I found filled me with both awe and dread.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pBVGnHeCYVo/UWWDOAkYLMI/AAAAAAAAA5c/IN9vEQ_kivU/s640/DSC00123.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pBVGnHeCYVo/UWWDOAkYLMI/AAAAAAAAA5c/IN9vEQ_kivU/s1600/DSC00123.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The line between sea and soil[/td][/tr]
[/table]On that tranquil shore sits a beast, a leviathan of a line- monstrously steep and fantastically frictionless. Washed up by ancient storms it sits there fossilised by time. I approached this slumbering creature with caution, not wanting to wake it. I gazed upon it smooth yet scaly, barrelled belly scarred by single-pad, directional undercuts leading along its length to a change of angle and some actual holds on its head wall. Tension, strength, patience and persistence would all need to be used in equal measure to tame this animal born in the depths; if we add a less than perfect landing into this equation we are looking at an endeavour that legends are made of! Overcome by fear I turned and ran, knowing that I'm too weak of heart, mind and muscle to go even one round with this beast. I ran knowing that I was lucky to live to tell this tale; this line could consume you, devour your climbing career by placing you in a world of pain with years of fruitless sessions that would strip a man like me of strength, psyche and sanity.
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oJVx3kY5dEM/UWWDLzZ9zFI/AAAAAAAAA5U/DMcROsEu4bE/s640/DSC00113.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oJVx3kY5dEM/UWWDLzZ9zFI/AAAAAAAAA5U/DMcROsEu4bE/s1600/DSC00113.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The belly of the beast.[/td][/tr]
[/table]
(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2BZsT4HlPvA/UWWB3Bo5ioI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/vFvcSMt_Z2U/s400/DSC00105.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2BZsT4HlPvA/UWWB3Bo5ioI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/vFvcSMt_Z2U/s1600/DSC00105.JPG)
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EfBDIfXybMo/UWWCpd9jqmI/AAAAAAAAA44/JiUQZmy4-Sc/s400/DSC00107.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EfBDIfXybMo/UWWCpd9jqmI/AAAAAAAAA44/JiUQZmy4-Sc/s1600/DSC00107.JPG)
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uxJM-dPliW4/UWWDLFhXJmI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/vaQx3IOth4Q/s400/DSC00110.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uxJM-dPliW4/UWWDLFhXJmI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/vaQx3IOth4Q/s1600/DSC00110.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Skinny Dog gives you a sense of the scale, the beast is big!![/td][/tr]
[/table]You may ask why I chant these lines- who would answer this call? Like an ancient mariner or a tainted trawler man I could just be deluded, lured into fanciful, tall tales by the romance and rhythm of the sea and the ruination of rum. However I have stood beneath many of the titans of Europe: Big Paw, From the Dirt Grows the Flowers, Ill Thrill, Dream Time and the Dagger. Borth's Leviathan could fight them all, go toe to toe, look these other monsters in the eye and know that it belongs in the same storybook. An ascent of the Beast of Borth would be legendary; a hero would be born, a killer line would be tamed and a new story would set sail across the seas creating a life of its own amongst those who toil rhythmically with brush, pad, and chalk.
I plan to go to Ellsmere Port next year at Easter. I want to sit amongst bearded men singing tales of adventure whilst sipping ales and wearing arran. I will listen to Chantymen from around the world painting pictures of a way of life now lost, a life dominated by sail, storms and seas. I would like to chant a song at the festival - tell a tale. My story would reveal a world where sand meets sea, where cliffs and storms collide in a titanic battle that never ends. A battle that creates and destroys in equal measure, a battle from which monsters are born! My story will be filled with a fight between the tides, struggles with slopers, battles with beasts, and the taming of the wild. I will be the Chantyman, will you be the hero?
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Awesome :clap2:
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He's good isn't he!?!
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Pex Problem of the Week #7. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/04/pex-problem-of-week-7.html)
20 April 2013, 7:40 am
This week's problem strips the climbing experience down to its bare bones- its essence! This problem is very much like a three chord Ramones tune: clean, efficient, minimal, in your face, aggressive and purposeful. If climbing could be boiled down, reduced to one move, this move is the one I would choose; it is punchy and delicate in equal measure, fustrating when close, amazing when sent. No other problem on Pisa wall demands dynamism of this quality. The Seven foot dyno might be bigger, but this problem is definitly better; it requires the would-be ascentionist to float rather than fly!
The Pex Dyno V7.
I could be minimal in my description of this problem, it is a one move dyno or deadpoint after all, however this would rob you of the essential beta which drags this problem into the realm of reality. Firstly locate hold 18 - it is a long shallow crimp. The surface of this hold is rather uniform save for a small rough dimple found slightly left of centre, the pad of the index finger on you left hand needs to nestle in this depression. Once orientated, both hands need to crimp hold 18; don't expect to generate a lot of power from your hands on this problem- body position is key. Now that your hands are set, put your left foot in a lowish dimple directly below your hands. The right foot is placed square to the wall on a prominent dimple up and right. Now it is time for flight; movement will be initiated from the left foot, this will swing your centre of gravity up and over your right foot, this allows you to spring off the right foot and float up to the break. Match and enjoy. This move is all about timing; it works like a rock over, it looks like a dyno, but if you get it right, it feels like magic!
Pex Dyno V7 (http://vimeo.com/64438410) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Pex Problem of the Week #8 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/05/pex-problem-of-week-8.html)
4 May 2013, 6:23 pm
All good things come to an end and this is the last Pex Problem of the Week. The purpose of this series was to motivate people, get them out and on rock; particularly at a time of year when most people feel that the coffee and cosy confines of the indoor wall is the only option. I was hoping to show the utility of eliminate bouldering in terms of training and to open eyes in terms of the quality that Pisa Wall has to offer. Pisa is dry most of the time and the motivated can use it to get stong at any time of the year. However there are limits: the sun is shining, the birds are singing, other venues are dry and realistically speaking, those skills and strengths built up on the slopey, scalloped holds of Pisa Wall need to be exploited elsewhere. The key to progression as a boulderer is variety; go out try every rock type, visit every venue- come back to Pisa in the winter, try the problems again and see how far you have come.
Vitalite Lighter - V7.
This problem may have less holds than it parent but, believe me, it's not lacking in flavour. This is a robust little number that needs all its ingredients sklillfully combined for its true essence to be savoured. This really is a case of less is more, and we're not just talking about grades here. Remember you will need the Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone Guide- go to pages 178 and 179. Right start matched on hold three, place your right foot in a low pock mark, put your left foot high on hold 1. Flick your left to hold 16, as you move up you will need to dip your right shoulder and this will help you transfer weight through the three finger stack that should now desperately cling to the grains on the surface of hold 16's slopeyness.- you will now need to flag left with the right foot, thus allowing 16 to be locked and the right hand moved to hold 21. So far so good, just like Vitalite, you've been here before, or have you? At this point things change; you will need to lean back so far it almost feels like your sitting down, milk those stacks for all they are worth, when in balance swap feet on hold 1, get your left foot into hold 6, set it square to the wall. Rock over, and over and over, rock a long way, at the last moment pop to the break and match. Jump off and plan where next week's trip will be. If you have been following "Pex Problem of the Week" you've trained effectivly for the greater ranges of Frodsham, Helsby and Parbold! Go on, get out there and conquer them!
Vitalite Lighter (http://vimeo.com/65447814) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Lists and That. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/05/lists-and-that.html)
13 May 2013, 7:54 pm
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dQKH7GNZzR0/UZE_0f-YZqI/AAAAAAAABS4/aP3dn7xkIY0/s400/DSC00040.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dQKH7GNZzR0/UZE_0f-YZqI/AAAAAAAABS4/aP3dn7xkIY0/s1600/DSC00040.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]There is some bouldering in those hills.[/td][/tr]
[/table]Lists and order seem to be an integral part of the western cultural cannon. We crave order. Categories are created and the intangible is indexed in an attempt to understand the fuzzy complexity of a reality that constantly evolves around us. This process of comparmentalising the unquantifiable seems to be a necesssary action, something we do to passify ourselves so that we may get on with our lives. Many groups round the world use different devices to do this: mysticism, myth and even magic, our obsession with 'measurement' to map reality robs us of the wonder of looking at the world in different ways. There is a large part of me that feels this is a shame, but then again befuddlement is my default state.
Lists play an important role in Bouldering: tick lists in guides, lists of personal projects, lists of grades and grading systems, lists of problems completed so far this season etc etc. Lists give climbing a faint wiff of competitive conformity; grades and the aroma of quantification open the door to the influence of Sports Science, training regimes, resistance, reps and rests. It's an intoxicating scent; one that promotes motivation, knuckling down and progress. Steps up the ladder of your grading system of choice can be hastened by applying a little logic. There's no magic here, the equation is simple:
Perspiration = Gratification (if grade-based progress is what you seek)
Time
Lists have played an important role in my efforts to scratch a path up steeper and steeper sweeps of rock over the years. Lists have informed my training. Wish lists have been written and re-written in an attempt to motivate; lists of desert island climbs or boulders I would like to have in my garden have been seriously discussed, at length, deep into the early hours, thus rendering the chance of climbing a problem that features on a list in the cold morning light next to impossible. Lists have also been used to entertain. My favourite climbing lists were the ones that Showtime Farley would create on the twilight drives back from The Peak in autumns past. On these long drives the excitement of the day would fade to browns, oranges and yellows as our overworked adrenal glands stemmed their flow, the car's collective blood sugar bottomed out and strange shadows were cast by Tom "Fat-hand" Sugden lolling deep in slumber, held up by the tension of his seatbelt alone. A hush would descend despite the million decibels of bass shaking the fatigued bones of those incarcerated in the car. At this point Ben would banish the twilight chill of early winter by demanding the 'Best' from us all: best problem, best move, best hold. Excitment, enthusiasm, and in Tom's case basic motor functions, would return. In the pantheon of climbing lists, "Best" lists are definitely the best.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YYunlOMeDPE/UZFA9yEphdI/AAAAAAAABTY/OmCd0Rvtcnk/s400/DSC00143.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YYunlOMeDPE/UZFA9yEphdI/AAAAAAAABTY/OmCd0Rvtcnk/s1600/DSC00143.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Why does climbing seem better when there's snow on the horizon[/td][/tr]
[/table]How can we quantify 'best'? Well that's the beauty of the concept, you can't, it's just something you like the most at a fixed point we will call 'now'. As the sands of time inevitably shift it will change to something completely different. Just like the grading systems we use to measure our progress in climbing, 'best' is subjectively constructed around the experience of the individual. I can't really tell what 'best' is in the same way I can't definitively define what 7b+ is. What I can do though is tell you what my 'bests' have been so far this year: best problem, best move, best venue, best area. Yes this is a futile exercise and yes these 'bests' will probably change as soon as I experience something else, however, as proved by Showtime Farley in the car on the way back from a kaleidoscope of venues, best lists are a good game. Best gets the adrenalin flowing, Best enlivens leaden limbs and injects colour into the climbing experience washed out by seemingly endless, wet winter. So let's play Best, get your answers ready, and be ready to shout at mine.
Best Move - above Pwllglass near Ruthin sits Butterfly Buttress. The steep front-face of this crag is adorned with a myriad of positive holds that make this an ideal link-up venue. One link moves from left to right through the steepness, it's called "Lead Rain" and my best move sits halfway along its sinuous path. The move involves kicking up a high heel onto a shelf in front of you allowing you to bump from a tiny hold to a thank-god sidepull. This slight of heel gets you through the steepest part of the problem efficiently saving energy for the brutal moves ahead.
Best Problem - I had been to Rhiw Coch before and done a circuit of easy problems. I had a look at Poppy's Move and the other problems in that particular cluster and discounted them as being too hard for my skinny arms. I went back this year with the test pages of the new North Wales Bouldering Guide, and I noticed the problem Moria. A 7b with two stars, I gave it a go and the rewards were exponentially greater than the grade given to the problem. The line may not be the most asthetic but the moves are stellar- you just can't quantify this quality; go try this problem it really is magic.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Au9XhiuQTWw/UZFAEnR299I/AAAAAAAABTA/-MhEQfH_65o/s320/DSC00043.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Au9XhiuQTWw/UZFAEnR299I/AAAAAAAABTA/-MhEQfH_65o/s1600/DSC00043.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Moria in all of its glory[/td][/tr]
[/table]Best Venue - seriously just go with this one. My best venue so far this year is Pex Hill!! Yes this hole in the ground, steeped in dog muck and decorated with broken glass is my favourite venue at the moment. Climbing here this winter, doing eliminates on Pisa Wall, writing about them and spreading the love has saved my climbing from the monotony of training and the inevitable injuries that being serious and scientific brings. I have visited Pex a lot this year and every time I have left with a smile on my face; if we could grade enjoyment Pex for me would be cutting-edge.
Best Area - without doubt it's North Wales. Words can not capture the feeling of moving across rough, dolerite slopers with a chill in the air and a dusting of snow on the mountains. It feels such a privilege to be climbing in this environment when the conditions are good and the sky is powder blue. When you're high up on the pass, away from the sound of the traffic, looking across at Dinas Cromlech, clouds casting shadows on the valley bottom as they drift lazily by, you feel like you're sitting in an alternate reality, a simpler one, one that makes sense, one that's almost - well mystical.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-07CltI8uEoI/UZFBAwpua7I/AAAAAAAABTg/-ImCmmaG2AY/s400/DSC00139.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-07CltI8uEoI/UZFBAwpua7I/AAAAAAAABTg/-ImCmmaG2AY/s1600/DSC00139.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Moves like thses help to generate Bests for everyones lists.[/td][/tr]
[/table]Well there's my Bests, how did yours measure up? We could negotiate our various Bests, and come up with a consensus. We could make our Bests definitive, fix them in time and share them with others! To be honest what would be the point, we would simply kill fun. Sometimes it is better to relax, sit back and enjoy the randomness of things. I have no idea why I chose Moria as my favourite problem of the year, or why I think Bouldering is better when framed by snowy mountains. I do know that in a culture obsessed with quantification, and a sport that is quickly being seduced by science, that the game of Bests doesn't really have a place. For me though that's the point; we should stop trying to quantify fun- let the game of Bests take over, let excitement and enthusiasm flood into climbing. Have your best-ever training session, campus because it puts a smile on your face, give into the magic, get out there and experience more! I reckon that would probably be best for everyone.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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The Alchemist (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-alchemist.html)
29 May 2013, 10:15 pm
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wOzMiW80ewU/UaZOZsGhbqI/AAAAAAAABUg/hUIxHvpc00k/s400/DSC00145.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wOzMiW80ewU/UaZOZsGhbqI/AAAAAAAABUg/hUIxHvpc00k/s1600/DSC00145.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Fatneck on the hunt for quality at Parbold[/td][/tr]
[/table]We have been on a quest. We have purged ourselves of the familiar, forsaken the bouldering fleshpots littered with test pieces that can build a reputation or crush an ego with one slip of a foot. We have journeyed both west and east from our fair, maritime city on the Mersey, followed sedimentary seams through sand and grit in search of something, something so rare that even to speak its name would make it disappear. Our merry band have forsaken the luxuries of guides, descriptions, cleaned lines and stars and replaced them with a twilight world. The realm we now move through was once created by the hand of man, but is no longer part of his ambition; instead it has been reclaimed by the elements, earth, air, fire and water. The chemistry of nature dominates these spaces. Holes cut deep in the ground by the desires of industry- now kingdoms of moss and mud. Lichens keep watch over these rippled quarried walls, and keep us from what we seek.
?
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_o4NCTVc0M/UaZPDctbfVI/AAAAAAAABUw/Y-1ZwY2_z5A/s320/DSC00158.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_o4NCTVc0M/UaZPDctbfVI/AAAAAAAABUw/Y-1ZwY2_z5A/s1600/DSC00158.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The Heath, Runcorn[/td][/tr]
[/table]We are not alone in these forgotten spaces, we share them with spectral beings, the youth that loom large in the twilight gloom. Disenfranchised by daylight, diminished by darkness, their rituals and rights of initiation seek to harness the elements for their own fulfilment They leap from the quarry walls during the summer months, draw power from the air and are reborn in the watery depths below- emboldened, indestructible heroes of a generation taught not to care. Fire is the element prized above all else, it illuminates their lives, and destroys our desires with effortless ease! The blackened, brittle walls demonstrate that we will never be alone - soot and sorrow will always blight our adventures through this twilight world. Our inquisitive eyes scan these walls in the hope we will find that rarefied thing that we seek, more often than not lamenting what could have been.
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MXWYrQvhQBo/UaZPF67-D0I/AAAAAAAABU8/vzsZWy5Dce0/s320/DSC00163.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MXWYrQvhQBo/UaZPF67-D0I/AAAAAAAABU8/vzsZWy5Dce0/s1600/DSC00163.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Andy Jones demonstrating Fatneck's finest creation [/td][/tr]
[/table]What do we seek? What could be so precious that it leads grown men to the margins, to a dappled world filled with broken glass and beings decorated with three stripes. Like Ancient alchemists we seek perfection amongst the elemental forces, our spiritual and physical journey is one of discovery, to unearth the impossible: new amongst the old, quality in crap, first ascents in the subtextural landscapes created by a guide just written. The Alchemists attempted to turn base metals into the perfect, precious metals of gold and silver; in the same way we have attempted to find the aesthetic amongst the ugly, sport amongst the solidified silts. Our dialectical journey has had us tread a knife edge, teetering along the margins of good and evil. Some say you cannot polish a turd, it will simply smear in your hands, others know that a carbon rich material subjected to the intense forces of heat and pressure can create diamonds. The proto chemists of the past did not achieve their aim of a life everlasting, or the extraordinary transformation of mundane materials, could we, however, discover a diamond in the rough??
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RZH-1GaOxl4/UaZP5HM9bMI/AAAAAAAABVs/NLxDOHA8qyk/s320/DSC00208.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RZH-1GaOxl4/UaZP5HM9bMI/AAAAAAAABVs/NLxDOHA8qyk/s1600/DSC00208.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Alec the Alchemist climbing the Arete that now bares his name (V7 sds V8)[/td][/tr]
[/table]Parbold and Runcorn both sport quarried hills that entertain the shady and the shy, shielding them from the the glare of society. Both quarries have built towns, neither have built reputations that might lure the boulderer to their muddied walls and yet, magnetised by their mystery, we have been drawn like moths by their shadowy light. We have poured scorn on what they have offered, rock has turned to dust by the action of our eager limbs, our desires have been smeared by disappointment, and yet our quest continued, redoubled and intensified until out of the sand,lichen and slime gems began to crystallise and gleam in the gloom. One amongst us has taken on the the mantle of creator he has brought to life lines of movement that transcend what surrounds them. He has turned the base elements of nature into something that will live on in the future pages of guides and the limitless landscapes of the information age. For now he is the alchemist.
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_SaAwcS-0zY/UaZPHFjCEfI/AAAAAAAABVA/mROVjxmrhU0/s320/DSC00176.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_SaAwcS-0zY/UaZPHFjCEfI/AAAAAAAABVA/mROVjxmrhU0/s1600/DSC00176.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Jay Dog crimping hard on the Heath.[/td][/tr]
[/table]So our journey seemed to have come to an end. Some have been bruised, battered by the experience. Blood has been shed and the twilight worlds through which we tiptoed have been tamed, claimed back for now from those who seek to destroy it through ignorance. However it is naïve to think that we can ever stop travelling on this journey of discovery- the achievements of The Alchemist are just a way marker in the sandstone pointing to what can be created through the intense scrutiny of our finite local resources. A message from the man who looked like Marx and answers to the name 'Pop' has shown us the way to what comes next. There is still sandstone in the suburbs, there are still gems to be found, we all have the ability to turn lead into gold, we can all be Alchemists if we journey long enough along the sedimentary seam of our desires. [tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ogs7zY2_J1E/UaZPrUkJ8bI/AAAAAAAABVQ/T7P280UJamM/s320/DSC00199.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ogs7zY2_J1E/UaZPrUkJ8bI/AAAAAAAABVQ/T7P280UJamM/s1600/DSC00199.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Portrait of a punter!![/td][/tr]
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Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Quarry magic!
There were some bits very near Parbold that I never got round to checking out. Likely rubbish, but you never know...
http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/131063 (http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/131063)
http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/2798827 (http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/2798827)
http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/173740 (http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/173740)
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All is revelaed! This is another of the Cheshire developments this year, I'm sure details will be released at some point I'm sure.
Nice write up Owen.
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Not quite all Andy ;)
I've got a topo done which I'll email you for a proof read then we can share (with caveats about top-outs and footholds...)
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Oh I do Like to be Beside the Seaside! (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/06/oh-i-do-like-to-be-beside-seaside.html)
8 June 2013, 10:30 pm
New game! Best venue?
The Sun has appeared. When I first spotted it emerging from its long slumber behind vast volumes of vapour fear enveloped me and I stood motionless, staring at the sky. Was this strange burning ball of gas a sign of the oncoming apocalypse? Could this really be the end of everything? No, it was stranger than that; winter, it appeared, was over and the warmth produced by this heavenly body precipitated a metamorphosis amongst the people: clothes were shed, smiles spread and faces were framed by dark glasses. This sudden change in fortunes has also lead to a change of heart in my answers in the game of Bests! (See my post - "Lists and That" if you're not sure what the game of Bests is)
Best venue? Anywhere coastal when the sun shines.
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vbYo49CLEDc/UbMtlHwf97I/AAAAAAAABWk/fCLmySzMxBU/s320/DSC00218.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vbYo49CLEDc/UbMtlHwf97I/AAAAAAAABWk/fCLmySzMxBU/s1600/DSC00218.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Ice Cream and Caravans at Clarach - my favourite![/td][/tr]
[/table]The seaside - a playground for the young: sandcastles, rockpools, 99's with strawberry sauce, paddling, proms and piers. Faded Victoriana rippled with amusement arcades, shops filled with 'Kiss Me Quick' hats and postcards that make grandad laugh like a donkey. Babies wear ice-cream beards of vanilla, chocolate and strawberry; seagulls swoop - stealing your chips, and the salty smell of the sea hangs heavy in the air. I must admit, when the sun shines there's nowhere I would rather be.
From a Bouldering perspective the coast really makes sense when the temperature tip-toes above the magic twenty degrees celsius mark. Whilst ryolite, dolerite and grit sat in bogs sweat in the sun-shrouded by midges, sea breezes and evaporating tides conspire to cool things down on the coast. Shady cliff lines and deep sea-caves mean that even on the hottest day there will be something worth working on. I ask you- what could be more statisfying than a cool ice cream when resting, or some post-climb fish and chips? Climbing on the coast in the summer is more than the sum of its problems, it's the whole holiday vibe that makes it the Best.
I revisited Borth and Clarach in Mid Wales during my half term holiday and immersed myself in the special deep-fried world that exists on the coast! I rewalked the sinuous path between land and sea and returned to the places where monster lines of the future live. Again, I didn't try to tame the beasts, just became more certain that someone more capable than myself will bring these Titans to life. Instead, I wandered through shady places searching for cool rock and a special breed of hold, something that only the sea can conjure - the frictionless sloper.
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--eIZTVI3cXQ/UbMtihzhyUI/AAAAAAAABWc/kz7IkyNzAgY/s320/DSC00217.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--eIZTVI3cXQ/UbMtihzhyUI/AAAAAAAABWc/kz7IkyNzAgY/s1600/DSC00217.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Slippy slopers ahoy[/td][/tr]
[/table]Slopers have been the mainstay of Bouldering since the beginning of time! To many they are like a drug; once you've learnt how to lower your centre of gravity and hold one more are needed to fulfill the physical urge to hang off things with open hands. Websites, now sadly extinct, used to devote their entire output to the science of slopers; they invited you into a seedy world of slope coefficients and reader's slopers. When initiated into the cult, sloperism drives you on to find the slopiest of slopes- the harder to hold the better. You learn to negotiate the margins of friction and discover how much can be held by simply dragging skin across rock.
The Mid Wales coastal cliffs are made up of soft shales and sandstone. The incessant action of the waves on this plyable medium has produced slopers of such rare quality that they deserve a special slopey place in the world of Sloperdom. These frictionless wonders are hard to hold and keep you begging for more. In the shade of the Leviathan I found such slopers, ones so slopey that they look like mere ripples in the rock. The line they defined felt improbable and yet impossible to leave. Working the moves involved the initiation of upward movement whilst slowly yet steadily slipping towards the cushioned embrace of my pads. Decisiveness, body tension and a stubborn streak were the key to success. The problem 'Raspberry Ripple' (7b ish) is a celebration of the tidal sloper; it may not have the grandure of the project lines that lie behind it, it may also be affected by shifting pebble levels, however none of that matters when you match that ripple with a high heel and and a heart full of hope.
| (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FAHprke2mqc/UbMtH0PI53I/AAAAAAAABWU/vCIe7AJrwks/s400/DSC00211.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FAHprke2mqc/UbMtH0PI53I/AAAAAAAABWU/vCIe7AJrwks/s1600/DSC00211.JPG) |
| The line of "Raspberry Ripple" |
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LcazpuQ55bw/UbMtGMZq6PI/AAAAAAAABWQ/EwtS_G97xP4/s400/DSC00212.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LcazpuQ55bw/UbMtGMZq6PI/AAAAAAAABWQ/EwtS_G97xP4/s1600/DSC00212.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The ripple - every problem should have one.[/td][/tr]
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So what of the summer? It's here at last but no one can predict its longevity; however to quote an old adage- we should make hay whilst the sun shines. The coast is bursting with established cool, shady venues. However the more adventurous looking for pastures new will find plenty to go at between the tides- our coastal Bouldering resources have as yet barely been touched. Learn about the tides, search out some slick slopers and join the cult of open-handedness; enjoy the fact that even in the hottest weather good conditions can be found! If that's not enough to feed your sloper needs, I'm sure that a well-appointed ice cream, or a sugary doughnut fresh from the fryer, will go some way to calm the nerves until temperatures drop and the gritty slopers in the hills can be exploited again.
Raspberry Ripple 7b (http://vimeo.com/67820045) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (http://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Lamp Light Bouldering (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2012/12/physical-geography-is-wonderfully.html)
28 December 2012, 5:08 pm
Physical geography is a wonderfully complex and interesting phenomenon! Most males would wholeheartedly agree with this statement as it will be one of their guilty pleasures. Think about it; volcanoes, tsunamis, hurricanes! However, to admit ones interest in such earthly pleasures can act as a very powerful contraceptive. This is not the only downside of constantly changing landscapes- when you live in a temperate zone with a maritime climate it can seriously meddle with your climbing.
This could now turn into the usual rant about all things meteorological. The sky has produced a multitude of precipitation types recently from heavy, to cold, to my personal favourite - horizontal. However all this rain, hail, snow, wind and general misery is to be expected when a boulderer over-winters in the UK. Best be stoic and let it go. No, the particular geographical phenomenon I'm interested in at the moment is associated to the latitudinal position of this green and quite frankly damp land, and the way this affects our seasons.
Summer is a magnificent time of year in the UK, especially when viewed through grey, frost-tinted glasses supplied by a dark January morning. The mind’s eye drifts to endless, balmy evenings of bouldering. The sun beating down, the scent of wild flowers and BBQ's in the air. Frisbees are thrown and dogs slumber untidily in the heat. The problem with the mind’s eye is it’s a hopeless romantic which tends towards the bullshit end of the truth spectrum! Summer in the UK usually means humidity, greasy holds and frustration. The one similarity between the brain’s simulated summer and our actual one is long evenings of light that allow us to adventure out like excited children.
So what of the winter? For most this is the season of training, getting strong and going to the wall. My local wall is heavily laden with temptations: it’s warm, bright, social, it has some of the best espresso for 50 miles and I can even eat like the gourmand I pretend to be there. It's easy to forget the millions of years of geological and erosional processes that sculpted our objects of desire. It's easy to be swayed by the injection- moulded plastic patterns that adorn the overhanging, smooth surfaces of the climbing wall with their perfect, soft landings. What other option is there- its dark by 4 pm in December? Most would not want to venture out on a British winter’s night as most humans are not addicted to good friction, something that is only abundant when it’s frigidly cold. And so we reach an impasse. How do you exploit good winter conditions if they only occur on a working weekday? How can we overcome the power of physical geography? How can we fight back the darkness?
Obviously people have been climbing with lamps since man first managed to compress and bottle gas. However my first glimpse of this exciting world was in Ailefroide, South Western France around 11 years ago. It was a rather glamorous activity practiced by sponsored American climbers seeking out “cool temps.” These individuals saved themselves for evening sessions, skin intact, illuminated by massive Coleman lamps, gliding gracefully up cool rock. The lumpen proletariat (i.e. us) sat around wide eyed, green with jealousy, nursing lacerated fingers from misguided mid-day sessions in the sun. Obviously this was the way forward; however it took me quite a few years to consider the possibilities of after work climbing in the winter months.
I was asked to help a friend with a film project. He had applied to be part of the Extreme Film School, an offshoot of the Kendal Film Festival, and the result was a short film about a big dyno called “Pex and the City” (I played the Sarah Jessica Parker character in this interpretation of the series). During the filming my mate thought it would be good to shoot some scenes at night. A generator was hired with some lights and the scene was set. As with all good plans- everything failed spectacularly. The blame for this expensive misadventure was laid at the door of a fuel tank with water in it. I suspect the real source of our failure was the fact that three incompetent males with no mechanical knowledge were trying to experience adventures beyond their technical means. The lights worked for precisely five minutes and then physical geography won out and re-established the natural (dark) order of things. However, during that brief spell of illumination, my mind drifted back to the glamour of Ailefroide as compared with the routinized indoor rituals of following colours as they twist sinuously up overhanging ply. I went out and bought a two hundred watt gas lamp and spent a winter with my film director friend hanging off sandstone in Merseyside after dark. A revolution had begun.
Lamplight climbing isn’t for everyone! In fact only a particular type of loon enjoys climbing under overhangs or in caves, after dark, in the depths of winter. Luckily the Liverpool Bouldering scene is mostly populated by uber-loons, so there is a demand for post work illumination for those with a Scouse disposition. So where does the merry band of Merseyside malingerers hang out after sundown in the midwinter? What mysterious method is used to push back the darkness and battle the usual certainties of the physical world?
Obviously the sandstone venues of Cheshire lend themselves well to illumination, particularly Pisa wall at Pex and some of the overhanging buttresses at Frodsham. One gas lamp and a lot of psyche was all it needed. These early forays seemed to feed a need that Merseyside alone could not quench and soon our merry band of lamplighters ventured further afield to the greater ranges of North Wales. Pant Y Mwyn became the next venue of choice. The merry band swelled in numbers, as did the number of gas lamps used. The tyranny of darkness was quite literally being banished through superior fire power. Our next move was to be our last; we found the home of lamp lighting, our perfect venue – Parisella’s!
To many, bouldering in Parisella’s cave sums up everything that is bad about Bouldering. A manufactured cave with manufactured holds, suspended above a thick carpet of goat shit, inhabited by media savvy, beany wearing types who indiscriminately wave video cameras at each other. On the other hand you can see it for what it is, a matrix of world class boulder problems no more than a minute from the car, adorned with exquisite moves, virtually weatherproof and perfect for lamplight climbing. We take deck chairs with us when we go. Instead of sitting facing the sea taking in the breathtaking vistas of the North Wales coastline, we always sit facing inwards, attempting to take in the majesty of what is in front of us; our very own nocturnal palace of bouldering.
Finding the spiritual home of lamplight bouldering has led to other changes particularly in terms of the means used to cast light on our cave-bound industry. Man used to exist in caves illuminated by nothing but firelight as sabre-toothed mammals waited for opportunities in the darkness beyond. Evolution and revolution have allowed us to burn compressed gas to light up our playground, whilst souped up, body kitted Citroën Saxos prowl like predators up marine drive. Today, technological advances have led us to cast expensive and unnecessarily wasteful gas lamps aside, leading to a mini revolution in our activities. Electricity and halogen bulbs have changed everything. A fully charged twelve volt leisure battery, an inverter and two 120 watt halogen lamps running off domestic three pin plugs have turned a shady night session in the cave into a near daylight experience. Two powerful lamps are all you need to banish annoying shadows from your problem of desire. Project climbing after the sun leaves our shores becomes a reality, and good conditions become the order of the day.
So I return to thoughts of the physical world and its many nuances and try to isolate what makes lamplight climbing so good. The answer isn’t that it’s better than going to the local climbing wall (even though it is). It isn’t even that you get more time on your projects and are thus are more likely to do them (even though you do and you are). The real allure of lamplight climbing is the feeling that you’ve got away with it; you are climbing outdoors as is right and proper whilst others toil with excess chalk, crowds and music you really would not choose to listen to. When you are lamp lighting you feel like you have beaten physical geography with the power of technology and determination. You stand tall having reversed the natural order, master of your environment having bent the elemental forces that govern all things to your will. With the simple flick of a switch you release a power that is almost intoxicating. It’s a shame that most won’t appreciate the significance of what you are doing; in fact such activities will make you even more unattractive to the opposite sex than an admission that you think hurricanes are ‘kind of cool’!! Anyway if you lust after friction after dark and women aren’t particularity interested in your obsession with slopers, get yourself a lamp, get out there and do battle with nature.
Cheers Owen
(All pictures - Simon Huthwaite)
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
Thanks for the information.. My own dog is bit skinny so I would to apply the information.. Thanks again
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The Very Tall and the Very Small. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-very-tall-and-very-small.html)
2 October 2013, 8:03 pm
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S6lOXHQMb2s/UkxSNzc91LI/AAAAAAAABcc/CG84JRUdNxE/s320/DSC00238.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S6lOXHQMb2s/UkxSNzc91LI/AAAAAAAABcc/CG84JRUdNxE/s1600/DSC00238.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Skinny Dog turning to run from a good argument[/td][/tr]
[/table]Debate has always been the lifeblood of climbing. Grades, sandbagging, ethics, mistrust and sheer pig-headedness have driven us on, motivated us to try harder, and led us onto the path of discovery and perceived achievements. It could be argued that this discord has had more influence on the increase in climbing standards than either the invention of the campus board or climbing's flirtations with the status of being a "sport" and the aroma of measurement and science that follow it! Every bar brawl, every tall tale told on Malham's catwalk, every wall and edge claimed by a Master; the unstemable torrent of doubt pouring over the achievements of others have motivated us to "prove em wrong."
These dialogues and discourses were traditionally presented and explored in the vicinity of warm beer and salty snacks. Fleshy fists would often support salient points mooted on the style of ascents made on the moors and mountains that fan out from the pub's front door. Today the rhythmical tapping of letter embossed plastic cubes, or the creation of codes which resemble language on illuminated screens, underscore the discordant melody that is contemporary climbing culture. Forums, posts, blogs and tweets now burn with the passion once stoked by fists, whisky and ale. We are now driven by what is written. We may not punctuate our points with blood and sweat, but the passion, drive and consequences are the same.
One debate that echoes around the Bouldering sphere is that of 'aesthetics' vs 'the move'. Is the strength of the line more important than the feel of the moves that make it? This argument often morphs into one that can encompass locations, environments, rock types; even the use of holds. Whilst not particularly contentious, these debates fill the bellies of those involved with fire. It leads to derisory comments about Parisella's Cave with its fragrant carpet of goat shit and the primacy of granulated, sedimentary rock types on one hand, and the idea that gritstone is a "luck-based rock type for punters who can't be bothered training", (a moment of brilliance from Crouch 2010) on the other. I have no desire to delve into this particular dialectic other than to be utterly entertained by the rhetoric it creates. What it shows us though is that, where aesthetics are concerned, passion can lead us to irrational positions that stop us from experiencing things that could be really rather good.
This summer, in an attempt to keep myself ticking-over for my winter projects, I went 7b hunting on the moors and mountains of Wales and the Peak. I was drawn to the Wavelength hillside by the problems I had not yet tried or overlooked in the past. One in particular had caught my eye, not because of its sweeping line or its towering reputation; its name attracted me, I mean who could resist doing battle with the "Beef Growler''? Enquiries made about this problem did nothing to enhance its reputation. It's found on the diminutive roof of the Pie Shop boulder. A low-slung affair with high dab potential and a grinding finish to boot. Conversations with the first ascentionist should have put me off but I was deaf to phrases like "close to the ground" and "utterly crap'': the name alone continued to pull me up the hillside.
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7MJbVdFdZUw/UkxR6-qka9I/AAAAAAAABcU/JeFIFz6-Emo/s320/DSC00239.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7MJbVdFdZUw/UkxR6-qka9I/AAAAAAAABcU/JeFIFz6-Emo/s1600/DSC00239.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The allure of the Wavelength hillside.[/td][/tr]
[/table]On inspection the problem looks poor- close to the ground with a huge pile of sheep shit underneath it to enliven the experience and sharpen the senses. This problem is an aesthetic black hole from which lovers of the line would never return but, my word, it climbed well! I'm a tall man, and I usually laugh at such short walls, but each arse scraping move drew me in. From the heel- toe lock at the start, through the tenuous heel hook in the middle, this problem made me pay attention. I had to think of ways to keep my body high and hold swings. Right up to the final mantel I could not believe the quality of experience afforded me by this low- hulking piece of crap. As I reflected on climbing Beef Growler, bathed by views of one of Britain's most beautiful landscapes, I realised that although the problem I'd ascended was anything but aesthetic- the experience of climbing it certainly was.
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ldLOgmOVsNo/UkxSi71JOqI/AAAAAAAABck/8PuD-2GohLU/s320/DSC00237.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ldLOgmOVsNo/UkxSi71JOqI/AAAAAAAABck/8PuD-2GohLU/s1600/DSC00237.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The view from the Growler; doesn't get much better than this[/td][/tr]
[/table]So, although debate and strong opinion have driven climbing onward over the years, we should learn a lesson from the Growler experience. If we polarise ourselves into tribes that worship particular rock types, holds, or even climbers, we might miss something really good. The question 'is it the line or is it the move' should not even be asked - It's all climbing. Others may say a move, problem, or venue is rubbish; don't believe them, find out for yourself. You may find your perfect problem. Remember the old adage, "one man's rag is another man's cape"; let's face it, we all want to wear a cape deep down!
Beef Growler 7b (http://vimeo.com/73254830) from Pavelsky (http://vimeo.com/user16526614) on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/).
Thanks to Paul for the use of his video, you should watch his others, they are really rather good.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Lovely stuff O-dog...
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Found and lost. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/10/found-and-lost.html)
7 October 2013, 8:27 pm
Have you ever been to the bay of Angels? Have you ever stumbled along its shingled shores to sample the smooth, steep bounty held within? Time slides lazily here; cormorants skim across the still waters and lead your eye to a horizon stippled with windmills attempting to stem the inevitable rise of our warming seas. It's amazing to think that this tranquil little beach, looking out onto a calm sea of renewable rotations, is only a breath away from the bus tours and hotels of Llandudno and the now-faded ice cream parlours of Colwyn Bay. Calmness pervades, waves ripple rather than break, and the problems engage in such a way that hours pass without weariness, ache or need of rest. If you have never experienced the stillness beyond the bungalows in the bay, you need to, and soon.
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xs4EQ8ikU0E/UlJbkV9AxbI/AAAAAAAABgA/Roo-QZOuNeM/s320/Angel+1.png) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xs4EQ8ikU0E/UlJbkV9AxbI/AAAAAAAABgA/Roo-QZOuNeM/s1600/Angel+1.png)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Crouchy on Dirt Box[/td][/tr]
[/table]Angel bay used be a regular haunt of the Merseyside Bouldering Scene, a real after-work treat when the tide was right. I did my first font 7a here, and I'm sure that Dolph's second ascent of Manchester Dogs was the beginning of his, now marathon, eighth-grade journey. Showtime, Fathanded Tom, Crouchy, Cassidy, Angry and the Silverback all visited in their time and danced on the wave-sculpted rock below the hill and between the tides.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vTueTKf7vxs/UlJbxR7vpCI/AAAAAAAABgI/qGcj-LBIKII/s320/angel2.png) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vTueTKf7vxs/UlJbxR7vpCI/AAAAAAAABgI/qGcj-LBIKII/s1600/angel2.png)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Crouchy doing battle with the Locker[/td][/tr]
[/table]The bay was the sight of one of the most memorable nights of my climbing life. It involved an incident that entertained and horrified in equal measure. It was just a 'Tuesday night after work' session at the bay like any other! Showtime and Caryl were going and I'm sure Fatneck put in one of his influential cameos. Skinny dog was with me and everything was shaping up for a very pleasant evening of summer Bouldering.
I fed the dog and let him mooch around the bay as is his want, chasing the occasional pebble, his feet beating out a staccato rhythm as he searched for momentum and purchase amongst the rock and shingle. On one of these runs something grabbed his attention. A galaxy of starfish had been washed up on the shore; they sat there desiccated by the late-afternoon summer rays. These salty, crunchy fruits of the sea proved too much for the Skinny one to resist! He devoured them in the same way a child eats sweets when they have been told to share. We noticed his activities too late, but thought little of it!
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1zQe-1fB3EY/UlJb_6As8fI/AAAAAAAABgQ/lWsVcgCf9_k/s320/Angel+3.png) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1zQe-1fB3EY/UlJb_6As8fI/AAAAAAAABgQ/lWsVcgCf9_k/s1600/Angel+3.png)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Fatneck showing his class on HP direct.[/td][/tr]
[/table]An hour passed, problems were sent and insults were exchanged as tokens of friendship. It was at this point the dog was sick. It was dismissed as nothing to worry about, we gave him fresh water and returned to banter and Bouldering. What happened next will be etched in my mind until the rising tides engulf the bay indefinitely! My quiet little companion stopped running. He stopped moving. He simply opened up, morphed into a double-ended, biological Roman candle. Fountains metres in length eruped from his orifices, providing a show that was truly multisensory! Showtime laughed. I cried, hit by the sensation that this beautiful beach in its newly defiled state would be my home until the dog hit empty. Skinny looked miserable and began to waddle around, dragging his posterior along the pebbles in search of something cool to ease his pain! The curious incident of a dog in the bay amused Showtime so much he named a problem after it! The dog never looked at seafood in quite the same way again.
Angel bay has been the scene of so many chapters in the Mersyside Bouldering story. Inspired by nostalgia I went back and visited after a break of some years this summer. It was as calm and tranquil as ever, but something had changed. It took me a while to isolate what variables had shifted, and then it hit me; this place, a former hot bed of Scouse climbing energy, activity and bile, had become a backwater- overlooked, ignored in favour of a famous cleft in the next headland. Have we all been blinded by the allure of arm-busting link ups and the sinuous pathway to big grades mapped out for only those with the patience and dedication for the journey?
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B-sBl5mpW0k/UlJcRWx65fI/AAAAAAAABgY/CqdPQwhgOZg/s320/Angel+4.png) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B-sBl5mpW0k/UlJcRWx65fI/AAAAAAAABgY/CqdPQwhgOZg/s1600/Angel+4.png)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Angry Jones on Bridey Arete[/td][/tr]
[/table]Angel bay, once a jewel in the coastal crown of North Wales Bouldering, is being lost as quickly as it was found. A lack of interest has allowed the quiet and constant creep of barnacles across the bay to continue unabated. Proud, smooth, clean lines are slowly being re-colonized by the creatures of the shore. Sonic Boom, a boulder problem of some note, was once adorned with stars; now crustaceans decorate its slopers. Angel bay needs to be found again before it is lost to the sea: Jonesy's Locker, Dirt Box, Ren Arrete, Muscle Bound, Chaos Emerald Crack, The Holding Principal, Spectrum, The Limpet, Limp Wrist, The Letter Box and Sonic Boom are all good reasons to go! So people of Merseyside, Flintshire and Conway, let's not wait for a new guide to spark our interest, let us repopulate the bay with climbers. We can match those limpets and barnacles with our own efforts. Let us fight them on the beaches! So much can be achieved by so few! There is a battle to be fought and, by our will, we can return this tranquil spot to its former climbing glory and you too can experience the agony and ecstasy of climbing here.
Thanks to Crouchy and Fatneck for all of the photo's- there's more to see on bouldr.net.Here! (http://bouldr.net/#climb/60.973107109199404/14.1064453125/46.800059446787316/-20.5224609375/All/All/Any)
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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:clap2:
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Superb
double-ended, biological Roman candle.
had me laughing so hard I choked on my oatcake.
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Another great tale from Owen. Sadly however, he forgot to regale the fact that his idiot of a dog actually dug up his own vomit and ate it. It was a particularly amusing evening at the Bay.
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Quality post! :lol:
I'd rather Angel Bay over Parisella's any day!
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Another brilliant post
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A legendary tale, well told... Deffo up there with the funniest things I've ever witnessed :)
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Game of Bests - Revistited (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/10/game-of-bests-revistited.html)
20 October 2013, 9:15 pm
New game, new game! Best problem you have ever climbed - think about it?
(If you are unsure of the game of bests I wrote a post about it some time ago, you can catch up by reading it here (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/lists-and-that.html).)
When writing about Angel bay I happened across a photograph; a photograph I had long since forgotten, a photograph that encapsulates why I climb. This photograph was taken by Crouch and first appeared on his blog (see it here (http://poweredbythenoor.blogspot.co.uk/)). It was taken at a time when I was going well; in my head I was even keeping up with Crouchy! I've never actually kept up with Crouchy and that's why he's my hero. He sends 8a on any rock type, he has an ambition to herd cats in the future and he can eat caustic curries with a smile on his face. However I digress; being delusional about your ability is an old tradition in sport, it can really help with motivation and achievement. In bouldering it can lead to problems being climbed that, on balance, you really shouldn't be able to touch. The problem in the photograph, my favourite problem ever, is a case in point.
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[tr][td][/td][/tr][tr][td]The brilliant Lizard King, Llanberis Pass. Picture Crouchy Collection.[/td][/tr]
[/table]The photo was taken by Crouch himself on a crisp winter's day when the pass was enveloped by powder blue skies and a soft, low light enlivened the shadows that lingered in the lea of the boulders. We met with the Dinas crew: Kev and Liam, dragons from the South, strong in the crimp and the lock. Kev chose to join us as we quested after this mythical reptile in the pass. I had spotted Fathanded Tom as he dispatched the problem in question with ease many years before. I had a go on two of the moves a week previously and knew that I could climb it, despite myself!
The description of Lizard King (simply the best problem out there for me) in the old North Wales Bouldering Guide is confusing. It states that it has a range of grades depending on the methods used to climb it. This would normally put most off the scent and would lead them to quest up other hillsides, however the description also contains stars; a hint of quality that cannot be ignored. If the stars lead you over to Craig y Llwyfan you will see there is no real confusion; this problem is no eliminate, it just encapsulates quality of movement on rock. The confusion comes from the fact that three problems share a similar start on this boulder but take different lines through its steepness. However it all makes sense when you get there.
You may ask what all the fuss is about. Why is this fool waxing lyrical about a single line flung far from the honey-pot problems of the Cromlech and Wavelength hillside? How can this be 'best'? Well, it starts with the location, away from the hustle and bustle of trad climbers and tourists that inhabit the laybys of the pass. The boulder itself looks like a little bit of Switzerland dropped by the Bouldering Gods into the Land of Dragons. The lines of holds that festoon the front face of the block look like they have been laser cut: two near perfect rails that produce the strong visual line those obsessed with aesthetics covert. Finally the angle of climbing is steep, around 30 degrees overhanging - proper climbing if you ask me.
Lizard king, neither high nor low version, is the problem that I would put in my back garden if I had to choose one! It's my 'best' because of its line, the company on the day and its location. Its my best because I sent it, even though I had no real right to do so (Crouchy got the send with minimum fuss about an hour before I did!). Its my 'best' because, as the discovery of this once forgotten photo demonstrates, it can still motivate me now years past both its ascent and the peak of my climbing powers. I look at this image, the only one I've seen that flatters my ego, and it makes me want to try hard, seek out the reason why I hang round small bits of rock rather than pubs at the weekend. 'Bests' motivate, that's why they are the best!
If you don't have a problem that motivates you like this one motivates me, leave the plasic and wood of the wall alone, go out, meet people, and find your best in the shadows cast by boulders on a crisp, powder blue day.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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More great writing. "I am the Lizard King, I can do anything" - Jim Morrision (no doubt the line the line refers to, but seems apt)
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I’m rubbish because my mate is sometimes better than me. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/10/im-rubbish-because-my-mate-is-sometimes.html)
23 October 2013, 3:58 pm
This weeks post comes from Ged Mac - gourmand, raconteur, and proprietor of Liverpool's Climbing Hangar.
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6EgKrj2FM_o/UmTcklX8ogI/AAAAAAAABiE/SYSSalT-lIc/s320/mentalanguish.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6EgKrj2FM_o/UmTcklX8ogI/AAAAAAAABiE/SYSSalT-lIc/s1600/mentalanguish.jpg)
The heavy bass massaged the dance floor of Chibuku as Nick played a DJ set supporting Disclosure in Liverpool last month. This was his most high profile set ever. I ‘danced’ away to his mix feeling a warm glow of pride. That’s my mate Nick I thought, look at all these people dancing, enjoying themselves, I was happy for him. A dark thought about my climbing life surfaced suddenly, how often am I envious instead of proud of my friends success? How often does a friends’ success actually spoil my climbing session? More often than I would like to admit actually.
I assume we all compare ourselves to other people, in all walks of life. At the wall this means you have put yourself in an ability league relative to other people. I am also assuming that, like me, you expect to outperform some and be outperformed by others. But when this order is upset, unbidden thoughts, presumably made by demons, appear in my mind and interfere with my climbing session. Here are three scenarios:
Scenario 1: I climb a boulder problem first time, I fight hard and get it first try (called a flash). While basking in glory, Dan, who climbs V14 strolls up and attempts to climb it. He struggles and falls! Wow! Dan fell off it? Well ain’t that just the icing on the cake? It must be harder than I thought! I must be on form tonight!
Scenario 1.1: Dan cruises a problem I am working. I am inspired and pay close attention to his movement, looking for tips. I feel indifferent about his ascent as Dan’s is basically a machine anyway with hydraulics for fingers. I expect him to crush it easily.
Scenario 2: I’m climbing with Mark, our finance man, Mark climbs V9ish like me. I climb a boulder problem first time, I fight hard and get it first try. While basking in glory, Mark glides effortlessly to the top. I didn’t find that one too bad actually, he says, looking surprised after my horror show. This triggers dark, envious thoughts. I invent reasons why he found it easy and I didn’t. I find reasons why I’m tired. I mutter, ‘well you’ve always been good at slopers, I’m rubbish at them. I’m climbing terribly– maybe I’ll wrap up and go home early…. I need to train more/eat less/pull my finger out etc
Scenario 2.2: Mark saunters up a problem that I am working, yep I feel bad about that. OMG, I am rubbish, I’m quitting climbing etc… self-esteem/cliff edge/dive dive dive…
Scenario 3: I climb a boulder problem first time, I fight hard and get it first try. N one’s around, I move on. Nice. Next problem Ged….
(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RjKRW12UZNo/UmTclXEVfjI/AAAAAAAABiM/1IxdvuzB9Qo/s320/brucelee.jpg) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RjKRW12UZNo/UmTclXEVfjI/AAAAAAAABiM/1IxdvuzB9Qo/s1600/brucelee.jpg)
Hypothetically, the above takes place in five parallel universes, I climb the same boulder problem in the same style in each universe, but each leads into one of the scenarios above and a very different feeling about my performance based on factors beyond my control. Typically the suggested circuit grade is the classic session killer, normally that it’s harder than you think it should be. Amazingly, very few people complain if they think something is too easy (go figure), but anyway.
It’s pretty embarrassing admitting the above. It isn’t like I choose these thoughts. But up they pop, like little bubbles in my mind, often with terrible effects on how much I enjoy my session. What’s worse is the occasional mood swings and stupid comments that follow, yeah I didn’t sleep much last night or I’ve climbed too much or not enough. Crazy. Obviously the problem is internal, Mark and Dan are two climbers I respect and learn huge amounts from. So what is the difference? I don’t know to be sure, but I presume that the proximity of Mark to me in terms of ability/time climbing/training/build/height/age, occasionally triggers a very negative self-analysis that totally ignores logic and obvious objective analysis like style of climb, that Mark and I have different preferences/strengths weaknesses and so on.
Obviously I’m going to climb with my friends so, if Mark continues to cruise stuff I can’t do, well, dry your eyes Ged and get on with it. But the real question here is why and how do certain things get under our skin with enough force to inhibit performance? Listen Mark, it’s not you, it’s me. Maybe there are areas of my motivation and self-esteem that I don’t yet understand, invisible mental currents that wield influence over my climbing.
I know I climb my best when I’m happy. I also know that sometimes I get annoyed when I judge my climbing to be poor and struggle to reverse the feeling, my climbing always worsens when this happens, even if the judgement is wrong or unfair. Yet I think I climb for pleasure, for the challenge, for how good it makes me feel, for time shared with others.
The million dollar question is then, can I (we) improve the climbing experience by altering my emotional response to things beyond our control, to stay happy and motivated? I’m working on the answer, but so far my top three for staying positive is:
Forget ‘I did it’ = / ‘I fell off’ = try, be motivated by making progress no matter how tiny.
Never, ever make an excuse for falling off, analyse why it may have happened, but don’t excuse it.
Spend a session failing on hard stuff – I say in my head after every fall, ‘this one has something to teach you then, best pay attention…’ failing can be fun!
If you have any experiences of other factors influencing your climbing, positive or negative or you have any wisdom to share from climbing or from other disciplines, please do get in touch so I can explore the subject further with case studies other than me!
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2wKAwIxL8Qo/UmTcmataL3I/AAAAAAAABiU/aqMCod1ckq0/s320/inner+demon.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2wKAwIxL8Qo/UmTcmataL3I/AAAAAAAABiU/aqMCod1ckq0/s1600/inner+demon.jpg)
Ged@theclimbinghangar.com
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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All for the Love of Wood and Plastic. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/11/all-for-love-of-wood-and-plastic.html)
2 November 2013, 1:57 pm
I have a confession to make. There is something dark lurking in the recesses of my mind. I don’t want to divulge any details. I don’t want to admit that I am capable of such sordid thoughts.
?[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_SVPvyCYGfE/UmqIiqYR1XI/AAAAAAAABik/edyWf3jxTf0/s320/IMG_20131025_144344_229.jpg) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_SVPvyCYGfE/UmqIiqYR1XI/AAAAAAAABik/edyWf3jxTf0/s1600/IMG_20131025_144344_229.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The October Monsson engulfs the Neath Valley[/td][/tr]
[/table]The rain is back;, temperatures are high and the Indian summer some had whispered about seems to have morphed into a sub-continental monsoon; puddles have depth. The rhythm of the rain on the rooves seems to sing songs of yet another season lost. There are problems in the Peak and the Pass that are just waiting to be finished. Final holds fumbled in the summer months have been waiting for the cool of autumn and the attention they so richly deserve. I should be out there; an outdoor weekend- warrior battling grit, dolerite and limestone; fighting the good fight, seeking adventure in wild places. However I'm not, I'm inside.
It's not that it’s evil (the thing plaguing my thoughts), I'm just not sure that it’s right. I really don’t want you to judge me, but I've got to tell someone; I need to share this burden.
I hate loose ends; unfinished outdoor problems nag away, eating my psyche, until they become members of the ever-increasing mental list of 'must go back to visit' problems. This list hangs around in the background haunting you. Should you train for them in case the weather takes a turn for the better, or would your time indoors be better spent toiling towards greater long term goals: trips abroad or harder problems? Your focus can become blurred, however any climbing is better than no climbing at all.
My eyes have started to wander. There’s something shapely, curvaceous and engaging invading my consciousness, turning my head (and not in a good way).
Indoor problems don’t have the same hold over me as their outdoor equivalents. I seem to be able to frame them as transient training apparatus. Failure does not consign these problems to a future must-do list that revolves on continuous play in my head; I simply don’t have any emotional attachment to those coloured plastic lines that decorate plywood at the wall. I know plenty of other climbers who can articulate with the indoor climbing experience fully. Each new set of problems precipitates a new campaign; problems are individually wrestled and vanquished. This leads to conversations of beta, moves, style and quality. I wish I could change my frames of reference and see indoor problems as ends in themselves. It would lead to less disappointment with the British weather; I would get stronger as well - I just don’t seem to be able to do it.
She's there every time I go to the wall. She does nothing special to grab my attention, but I simply can’t take my eyes off her. How do I broach this incendiary topic with my wife?
The indoor climbing wall for me is a social space. Somewhere I catch up with friends, drink coffee and seek asylum from my work space. It is the place where I generally unwind; rid myself of the daily baggage placed into my irresponsible hands by modern social and economic interactions. It’s also a training space for me where I work on the deficiencies in my climbing repertoire. Repetition, isolation of move, intensity and volume marshal my sessions at the wall, all to one end - to lessen the burden of failure in my mind. I train for outdoor excellence that I rarely attain.
I'm just going to admit it; life in a world of denial is no life at all. I have feelings, an emotional attachment to the cellar board at the Hangar. I know it’s wrong, but is it really?
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ulCMD2GP7h0/UnLfmVtAbQI/AAAAAAAABjE/8dP6s7FK62Y/s320/IMG_20131031_205923_911.jpg) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ulCMD2GP7h0/UnLfmVtAbQI/AAAAAAAABjE/8dP6s7FK62Y/s1600/IMG_20131031_205923_911.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Mills working those holds baby![/td][/tr]
[/table]Ok, it’s out there. I should focus on problems made of minerals, sculpted by the elements that exist in a natural landscape, but I just can’t help it, the draw of the board is so strong. I can ignore those circuit problems, they do nothing for me, but the board.....? I'm no fool; I know this is an uneven relationship, unrequited if you will. The board has more time for the stronger climber; her attentions are lavished on Dan, Psyche or Crouch and their abilities to use holds that most of us can only dream of locking down. However I can kid myself, believe that one day I might reign supreme in the world of the board and monopolise the attention of this inanimate object. Yes its wrong, yes I should be obsessing around real boulder problems, of course I should be looking at the skies for a break in the rain; but I just can’t help it, that 50 degree angle is just too good.
I need help.
The first step to dealing with a problem like this is to acknowledge you have a problem. I told my wife - I admitted that I had strayed and looked at another! I told her how sorry I was. I was looking for forgiveness, redemption. She looked deep into my soul and said without fuss or irony “Hmm, that’s nice dear."
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S9vRI0mnCfg/UnLfaI4G2XI/AAAAAAAABi0/DnxIl8xshcI/s320/IMG_20131031_205958_964.jpg) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S9vRI0mnCfg/UnLfaI4G2XI/AAAAAAAABi0/DnxIl8xshcI/s1600/IMG_20131031_205958_964.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Oooh just look at the steepness[/td][/tr]
[/table]If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this story, then please contact your local wall where fellow board-lovers may help you. Intensively attempting problems created by others, sitting on mats in the shadow cast by the board and endlessly waxing lyrical about the best hold on impressively steep angles will eventually allow you to kick this terrible affliction.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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I knew Mills would be photographed on a board. It's the only time he seems to get photographed.
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No doubt mills is setting up for move 2 of 2 on his latest visionary line!
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Classic Mills crimpfest no doubt. Nail-edges on a 45...
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No doubt mills is setting up for move 2 of 2 on his latest visionary line!
Move 2? That would make it one of Tom's longer problems. Stamina training in his world.
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Classic Mills crimpfest no doubt. Nail-edges on a 45...
Yeah, you should have seen Tom's nail edge problem on our old board. Sickest, smallest edges ever pulled on. Gaskins would have walked away...
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Boom boom...
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The Process (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-process.html)
8 November 2013, 12:03 pm
This week have another contribution from a guest writer. This man needs no real introduction, as he is a legend. May I introduce to you the words of the one, the only...... Fatneck!
Disclaimer - the following event may or may not have actually occurred as described. I think it did but am not entirely sure.
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ySa8m5qqSmo/UnzRIyBDwHI/AAAAAAAABjU/vAtv5gjFLtY/s320/forest.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ySa8m5qqSmo/UnzRIyBDwHI/AAAAAAAABjU/vAtv5gjFLtY/s1600/forest.jpg) The Forest
I follow Ben through a new (to me) part of the Forest. Tantalising splotches of grey highlighted by the dappled sunlight peep through the foliage on either side of the vague path. A cuckoo cuckoos in the distance and before long we’re beneath one of the splotches and Ben is excited. Due to recent rains and the fact that we are somewhat off the beaten track, the bloc is un-chalked and so begins the process…
“Looks piss”
“It’s desperate!”
“Have you tried this?”
“How are you supposed to hold that!?!”
“What about that foothold?”
“Ah…! Maybe I need to…”
We spend maybe half an hour trying this, trying that and trying the other. Trying different combinations of holds, body positions and foot placements and piece by piece the dream starts to become reality…
I stand back and look at the bloc and it’s changed. In fact, everything has changed…
Holds are chalked, highlighted and the sequence seems obvious. Faint hand mark show the progress made, each one slightly higher than the last. Also, our mood has changed: we started off excited, ebullient even; we have experienced exasperation, disappointment, confusion and discouragement; but also hope, wonder, joy and now expectation.
We have a sequence and the bloc is on…
Ben cleans and squeaks his boots, adjusts the mats, checks his shoes again, chalks hands, moves towards the bloc, stops, chalks again turns slightly and offers a wry smile before…
(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6Lr-1mzsoxI/UnzRrZ08ZMI/AAAAAAAABjY/OY50npPRTrk/s320/Happy+Ben.jpg) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6Lr-1mzsoxI/UnzRrZ08ZMI/AAAAAAAABjY/OY50npPRTrk/s1600/Happy+Ben.jpg) Ben looking happy…
Later, as we walk back through the Forest chatting amiably about the problem, discussing why it wouldn’t go and what we’d try next time, it suddenly occurs to me that this whole wondrous experience has unfolded with out me even putting on my shoes! I have enjoyed, participated and revelled in the experience vicariously and am left reeling with the thought of what a simply brilliant thing climbing is.
I think the mystery and solving the problem is all; sending is secondary to me. I think this is why the Lleyn venues like Porth’s Ysgo, Talfarach etc are my favourites. The unstoppable forces of time and tide conspiring to remove all traces of previous bouldering activity leave the visitor with a sense of being ”the first” to experience these problems and situations. I love arriving at a “chalk free” Ysgo but even more than this, I love walking back along the beach at Porth Ysgo at the end of the day and seeing the now-chalked holds. Each chalked mark tells a tale of failure or success, of a struggle or a walk in the park, of fun or of fear. Tangible and enigmatic but at the same time transient and almost futile...
(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kY_uOJKFtTg/UnzSBcf7-uI/AAAAAAAABjg/LkEdSz7J-EU/s320/Fatneck+Highbal.jpg) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kY_uOJKFtTg/UnzSBcf7-uI/AAAAAAAABjg/LkEdSz7J-EU/s1600/Fatneck+Highbal.jpg) Fatneck highballin’ on his stag do…
Back to the Forest and I spot an unchalked splotch of grey to our left, am inexplicably drawn towards it and the process begins again. Maybe this time I will even don my shoes…
(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MBG97r1ivBg/UnzSQuij_tI/AAAAAAAABjo/cWkXU27JC-k/s320/Ysgo.jpg) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MBG97r1ivBg/UnzSQuij_tI/AAAAAAAABjo/cWkXU27JC-k/s1600/Ysgo.jpg)
The unstoppable forces at end of another day at the Ysgo…
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Well I thought it was quite good anyway...
Breaks out the tiny violin...
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I really liked it Si, but I think I commented on FB rather than here.
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I thought it was crap but I already texted you to say that. Personally I preferred john redhead's article; more misogyny than yours. I reckon either redhead writes the next skinnydog blog or I carry out my threat of writing a piece about heel toe locks.
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Is it pro- or anti-heel-toes?
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or I carry out my threat of writing a piece about heel toe locks.
I'd read that...
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So basically you went climbing with Ben, ate too many pork pies that had been warming up on the dashboard and spent the day rolling up & looking out to sea like a bad nature helm... whilst Ben did some uninspiring eliminate rock shuffling.
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Is it pro- or anti-heel-toes?
Oh very much pro.
The alternative is a homage to the palm down. Palm downs I have known and loved, something like that. Would you read that Ally? Perhaps you could write a homage to the lanky knee bar.
Rich: love the "bad nature helm" comment. You know the man so well...
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I'd read both.
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A blast from the past! - El Cogul. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/11/a-blast-from-past-el-cogul.html)
14 November 2013, 11:05 pm
This week I have decided to reprint an article that was published in Friction Magazine in May 2006. The recent deluge has had me thinking of methods of escape; dry climates and specifically climbing in Spain. The article below refers to the last time I actually did just that and reminds me exactly how good that experience can be. A second reason for bringing this article to life is that it works as a neat little snapshot of what bouldering was all about in 2006. I'll accept that it is a poorly written article and is at times quite naive, however I think it does capture the spirit of adventure and discovery that cheap flights and articles in climbing magazines engendered in the climbing community at that time. It wasn't so much what you were climbing but rather which exotic new location you were headed to that seemed to count. I could have spruced this article up, revised or even rewritten it, however I have posted it here, warts and all, more than anything to give an indication of how much I, and bouldering, seemed to have changed in a very short time.
All Photos in this post are from the Tony Simpson Collection.
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vRnMeRxO0SU/UoMxThgOclI/AAAAAAAABj8/f480EQ8E9_A/s320/start.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vRnMeRxO0SU/UoMxThgOclI/AAAAAAAABj8/f480EQ8E9_A/s1600/start.JPG)
El Cogul.
Apparently there was a sixty present chance that we would have a really cold winter. In my mind cold means dry and we were in for a good season. So what do we get – snow, mist, fog and clag, injuries distilled from the frustrations of training indoors and an overwhelming feeling of dread every time there is a mention of the weather. We heard about bouldering in a desert near Barcelona. “Pardon? You mean in a desert where you have no moisture, rain, or wetness – winner!” Tickets were bought, a car was hired and off we went. We headed out to Spain in mid-February after several weekends of mist and misery. Bird flu had just hit Europe, so we were under strict instructions not to lick any birds.El Cogul is dry! Very dry. However it is nowhere near Barcelona. The bouldering is found near the Catalan city of Lleida a place best described later. It is easy to find El Cogul on the tourist maps. It is actually a world heritage site due to there being some ancient graffiti on one of the boulders (a fact that escaped us until after our visit) so be careful around the caves.
Our trip took the standard format of bouldering trips worldwide, four men driving around in an overly packed car shouting enthusiastic nonsense at each other. Loud music was blasted around the car, lard based food products were eaten in large quantities, catch phrases were found and overused and we all climbed ourselves into oblivion on a daily basis. It could be said that this is really living, but the diet alone could seriously challenge your lifespan.
(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbGpNX9ZanA/UoMxgweglPI/AAAAAAAABkE/FRkDy6JOkls/s320/b+footless.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qbGpNX9ZanA/UoMxgweglPI/AAAAAAAABkE/FRkDy6JOkls/s1600/b+footless.JPG)
Most of the bouldering is found along a dirt track between the villages of El Cogul and L’Albages. Like most European venues each sector of climbing corresponds to a car parking space, so walk-ins are minimal. The climbing encapsulates everything that is good about sandstone. Slopers, huecos, roofs, palm down mantels and the judicious use of heel and toe hooks.
(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZbpWHp4ZkB4/UoMxtLtNd4I/AAAAAAAABkM/qenTBH8qX5c/s320/o+roof.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZbpWHp4ZkB4/UoMxtLtNd4I/AAAAAAAABkM/qenTBH8qX5c/s1600/o+roof.JPG) The boulders are perched on hillsides above terraced olive groves and vineyards. Some of the sectors are actually on the terraces themselves, giving the feeling of bouldering in someone’s garden. Don’t worry though you obviously have the right to trespass. The local farmers did not take any notice of us no matter how loudly we shouted at yet another failed attempt at a project.
The Sectors.The topo for El Cogul shows twenty one different sectors of bouldering. Each sector has on average three to five good boulders of varying sizes. Rock quality can vary. Generally the higher up the hillside the venue is the better the sandstone. On our trip we visited all of the sectors bar two. Five sectors stood out each serviced by a car parking space.
Sector 1 –L’Universitat.
(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jdoUPLgqxco/UoMyCJOvMuI/AAAAAAAABkU/Af2jg0QteSc/s320/b+roof.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jdoUPLgqxco/UoMyCJOvMuI/AAAAAAAABkU/Af2jg0QteSc/s1600/b+roof.JPG) This is a sector of steep rounded walls on the left, and a long roof with big huecos on the right. At the transition between these two angles there is a magical sit down crack line which goes at a ferocious 7c. Other stand out problems include a dynamic 7c through the bulge on the left hand end, and any of the longer roof problems emerging from the right.
Sector 5 – Mestre Mutent.
(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dQC9DuOL1BY/UoMyOE7xtbI/AAAAAAAABkc/gsULAfTADMo/s320/pex+ish.JPG) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dQC9DuOL1BY/UoMyOE7xtbI/AAAAAAAABkc/gsULAfTADMo/s1600/pex+ish.JPG) This is probably the best warm up venue in El Cogul. The climbing is best described as technical wall climbing on crimps and shallow pockets. Problems from 5+ to 7a exist and they are all good. If you like Pex Hill (which obviously everyone does) you’ll love this sector.
Sector 6 – Beer Action.
(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WrABbrI7T-M/UoMyad7UE0I/AAAAAAAABkk/rFXqeBVT2Lc/s320/beer+a.JPG) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WrABbrI7T-M/UoMyad7UE0I/AAAAAAAABkk/rFXqeBVT2Lc/s1600/beer+a.JPG) This is the most obvious sector from the road and it contains El Cogul’s most famous problem. Beer Action is the long curving, sloping arête you can see from the road (7c from standing, 7c+ from sitting if you fancy a go.) Lots of other problems exist here, however the area is marred slightly by a sloping dusty landing which induces bouts of impromptu mat surfing.
Sector 11 – Pallars.
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zzAqKzqhAuY/UoMyoKayQtI/AAAAAAAABks/Nw62vGtzaUo/s320/b+mantel.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zzAqKzqhAuY/UoMyoKayQtI/AAAAAAAABks/Nw62vGtzaUo/s1600/b+mantel.JPG) A great venue which is a short drive up a bumpy farm track. This sector has rounded boulders plucked from Font and deposited on the terraces. One of these boulders has a 7a arête (7b from sitting) which begs to be climbed. Around the corner is a huge boulder steep roof. Problems range from 7a through to 8a+, with what looks like more to go for the keen and the strong. Believe me when I say this boulder is world class.
Area L’Albages – Sectors 16 to 19.
(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9IdI1U-JXjE/UoMyyCH6gLI/AAAAAAAABk0/pf7nlLMu_oI/s320/o+prow.JPG) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9IdI1U-JXjE/UoMyyCH6gLI/AAAAAAAABk0/pf7nlLMu_oI/s1600/o+prow.JPG) To get this area you need to drive towards the village of L’Albages, and at the end of the dirt track turn left up the hill on the paved road. Follow the s – bends passing the indoor poultry farm. Remember, no licking the birds, you’ll be shot at customs on the way home if you do. Park on the outside of the last s – bend near the brow of the hill.
The bouldering overlooks the cultivated vineyards and is obvious. This area has the highest concentration of good problems in El Cogul, and if you only have time for one day of bouldering this is the area to come to. From sector 16 to 19 there are walls, traverses, mantels, roofs and huecos. The grades cross the spectrum and the good problems are to numerous to highlight one or two. Just go for them and enjoy.
The Weather.
It was snowing in Blighty. I got a nice tan! It was dry enough to make my lips peel, and some in our group took the opportunity to run around in just a pair of shorts, rude not to in February. Conditions were excellent, it tried to rain one day but failed miserably. The best times to boulder were early in the morning and late afternoon when it was pretty cool; but to be honest you could climb as hard as you liked all day.
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EXyjgggsfq4/UoMy89dDVaI/AAAAAAAABk8/iS8MBtgLp-U/s320/allright.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EXyjgggsfq4/UoMy89dDVaI/AAAAAAAABk8/iS8MBtgLp-U/s1600/allright.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td][/td][/tr]
[/table] Topos.
According to some people, topos for the area can be found on www.nice-climb.com. However information about El Cogul like other Spanish bouldering spots is very hard to find, many frustrated web searches have proved this. (Update - I think El Cogul has been included in the bouldering guide book E - bloc you should find it here (http://www.gebro-verlag.de/) just click on link for Boulder Guidebooks when you get to the page).
Flights, Accommodation, and Food.Ryan air flies to Reus airport which is an hour’s drive from the bouldering. The airport has the usual array of car hire establishments, and we found car hire very reasonable indeed.
Lleida is the nearest big town / city to the bouldering and you’ll rely on this place for your day to day living. Lieida is best described as a place to send your enemies to teach them a lesson. The road system is difficult to navigate; there is nowhere to park, and virtually nowhere to eat out. We stayed in a Formula 1 budget hotel on the outside of Lleida, my advice is - don’t. There are camp sites, use the excellent supermarkets (the food you buy in these actually taste of something, unlike at home) cook your own food on a camping stove whilst sitting under a huge hueco – it will give you piece of mind. Foraging for food on the streets of Lleida may give you an ulcer.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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So basically you went climbing with Ben, ate too many pork pies that had been warming up on the dashboard and spent the day rolling up & looking out to sea like a bad nature helm... whilst Ben did some uninspiring eliminate rock shuffling.
Listen, you've got pussykins back now so quit it with that angsty beef lad. ; )
"Bad nature helm" has to be one of the finest things to have ever passed your lips Hession! :lol:
That and Bens member...
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Pex Problem of the Week #9. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/11/pex-problem-of-week-9.html)
26 November 2013, 9:59 pm
[tr][td](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pEkvsKlLhwI/UpJRpI0gNqI/AAAAAAAABnE/TZgjeBzMSz8/s320/IMG_20131124_140733_996.jpg) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pEkvsKlLhwI/UpJRpI0gNqI/AAAAAAAABnE/TZgjeBzMSz8/s1600/IMG_20131124_140733_996.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Sam throwing shapes on Pisa Wall.[/td][/tr]
[/table]Not seen one of these for a while have you? (If you've never seen one before, the links to the previous Pex Problems of the Week can be seen below). It's been some time, so why now I hear you say. Pex Problem of the Week was meant to help prepare you for the grit season, get you ready for the crimps and slopers that sit there just waiting for attention up on the moors. Well it is grit season and we did try to get out on the moors, however it's November and we live in Britain which means the best intentions often lead to naught. The forecast was set fair and the rock was dry but the mist and drizzle rolled menacingly up the Calder valley leaving Pex the only outdoor option on a short winter's day. Pex, and more specifically Pisa Wall at Pex, is a perfect quick hit in the winter; it never gets wet and there is plenty to get on with if you are happy to be creative. This problem of the week is something I came up with to spice up a session that should have been on grit.
Idiotic Man V7.
Remember you will need to refer to pages 178 and 179 of the Cheshire and Merseyside Sandstone guide and the eliminates diagram therein for the holds used in this problem. Essentially this is a stretchy sit into a harder version of Silly Boys Direct. Contrived difficulty? Well yes - it is an eliminate after all, and it will get you strong! Start sitting with both hands on hold number 2, left foot in a deep, low pock mark and right foot on a smeary dink. Drop your left knee and reach up with your left to hold 7. Now move your feet and body weight up and left, flick the right hand up, nestle a three finger stack in hold 21 (the top of the Vitalite constellation of holds) and hold it like a gaston. Move your left foot up to hold 1, lean back, make space and swap feet, bury your left foot into hold 6 and start to rock over. This move will feel like an attempt at contortion (your left knee will feel like it is wrapped around your left ear) however, as you move up and left with you weight being held up by the tension created between you right hand and left foot, it will start to make sense. All that is left to do is go for that bucket in the break with your left hand, match, and victory is yours! Pex saves you yet again from those drizzle-infested moors.
The video shows two problems: the first is the Idiotic Man, the second is Small Snick Sit Down which was Pex Problem of the week #5.
Thanks to Sam from downstairs for the video!!!!
If you are up for following the nine step path of Pisa wall power then the links to the first eight problems can be found below:
Week 1 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/pex-hill-problem-of-week.html)
Week 2 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/pex-problem-of-week-2.html)
Week 3 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/pex-problem-of-week-3.html)
Week 4 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/pex-problem-of-week-4.html)
Week 5 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/pex-problem-of-week-5.html)
Week 6 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/pex-problem-of-week-6_8497.html)
Week 7 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/pex-problem-of-week-7.html)
Week 8 (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/pex-problem-of-week-8.html)
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Bouldering and pseudo-existential journeys (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/12/bouldering-and-pseudo-existential.html)
2 December 2013, 10:48 pm
This week we have another article from Ged Mac-Daddy (daddy of the hanger in Liverpool). This time he tells a tail of trips and projects..............
‘…There is no effort with error and shortcoming…’
Theodore Roosevelt
Climbing stories often dip into the existential. “After 563 attempts to pull onto the problem, I finally hit the pocket, in the fleeting blackness between success or failure, I saw the divine, self-actualised and finally realised the true essence of what it means to try…” I almost walked this path. Almost.
For months I’ve been building up to this trip; didn’t drink beer, drank more water, wore a weight vest when climbing and turned down a bacon sandwich. I determined to try and focus my energies into climbing just a few hard boulders, I was going to climb 8a. Yesterday, half way through my trip, I decided that I had failed. The decision was a painful exercise in pop-psychology that I nearly turned into a dithering article, replete with pseudo existentialisms.
I was gearing up to talk about torment, of being stood at a cross-road of identity. There were two Ged’s; Actual Ged liked high volume, flashing hardish problems and never stayed too long under one boulder. The Ged I fancied becoming, was patient enough to project, to try and really push himself to discover his ‘true’ ability. The holiday was about ‘the project,’ my vehicle for an inward journey to the Mecca of 8a.
So a week in, virtually no boulders climbed, demoralised, feeling stronger than ever but unable to get my body climbing in harmony, I was torn. It was maybe possible I could drag an 8a down to my level which hardly felt gracious, or I could re-engage with climbing some blocs and raise my game a bit and return a better climber on another trip. The crossroad was which choice represented greater weakness? My old safe ways of lots of climbing or press on with the project of near certain failure? Both felt like a cop out. Down this road lay the bad article. The exploration of ego driven choices, why I chose 8a, the tired rhetoric of, “it’s not about the grades, man…..”
Let’s not be shy here, it is kinda about the grades isn’t it? Tell me you are not pleased when you do something harder than before or get annoyed like my proper paddy today when I got my ass fully kicked by a beautiful 7a+. 7a+ is well within my grade, a high chance of the flash. That’s why I had a tantrum when it kept me mercilessly on the ground. [tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ycp4GgCaHX4/Up0E8aFav9I/AAAAAAAABng/PoSk5iy9yms/s320/ged+1.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ycp4GgCaHX4/Up0E8aFav9I/AAAAAAAABng/PoSk5iy9yms/s1600/ged+1.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]The 7a+: the scene of my tantrum[/td][/tr]
[/table]
I chose 8a because I wanted to climb a new grade. I was basically chasing the grade, pure and simple. The chase, the blindness, allowed me to mislead myself and ignore what I already knew, what was going on around me and insult people who project well.
Three of the climbers I am with are professional. Shauna Coxsey (bouldered V13, British Bouldering Champion, Adidas athlete), Alex Johnson (bouldered V12, 2 x world champion, 5 x USA champ, North Face athlete) and Chris Webb Parson, (bouldered V15 and over 200 V11 or above graded problems, Edelrid athlete). Quite the team to be climbing with and quite the people to be learning from once I pulled my head out of my ‘journey arse.’[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wfej7azPLNU/Up0E7o8wUcI/AAAAAAAABnk/oM-nfVmkUXw/s320/ged+2.jpg) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wfej7azPLNU/Up0E7o8wUcI/AAAAAAAABnk/oM-nfVmkUXw/s1600/ged+2.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Alex despatching: Teamwork 8a, after sub 30 mins of effort. Two days it took me to do The second move in isolation and totally ruin my skin.[/td][/tr]
[/table]
The only shocking thing I learnt was that I had the capacity to ignore what I already knew in the hope I could sneak past the grade guards and get away with the 8a jewel. All of the pros were climbing their projects quickly; resting well between goes, not getting angry, being very curious, experimenting with new beta and quitting before they were trashed, with a view to return fresh. They were happy to say, nah, don’t like this one and move on. I watched 8a go down in a few tries followed by 7c+ not getting climbed and people moving on. I was falling off one move, over and over, trying again and again, getting tired, annoyed, bruised and torn skin. I was having the least fun, doing the least amount of climbing and getting shut down hard. Only I was on an inward journey to understand ‘the project’, everyone else was just climbing boulders.
(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tX2lbXg4a8U/Up0FRESEQpI/AAAAAAAABn0/HLXo-EbffA4/s1600/crossroads.jpg) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tX2lbXg4a8U/Up0FRESEQpI/AAAAAAAABn0/HLXo-EbffA4/s1600/crossroads.jpg)
There is no path traveller; the way must be forged as you walk.
Antonio Machado
What was I thinking? That embarking on some self-indulgent inward journey to test out my capacity for patience was somehow going to let me past the gates of 8a? That there was no specific skill set that those good at projecting possessed? How arrogant I am! Did I really think that with the grand total of one 7c+ under my belt that I was prepared for the dizzy heights of 8a? I have taught the virtues of a good pyramid on which to build your peaks on, illustrated the madness of trying to leap desperately through grades to inexperienced climbers only to find I had rationalised trying to do just that under the guise of a ‘journey.’ I have played myself for a fool, moreover I had done it publicly and justified it with blinkered thinking.Good climbers climb lots. Revelatory stuff. They try hard. They try things they cannot do. They sometimes get annoyed when they fail and are often self-critical, they aspire to be better, train and draw a line under things that are not paying out quickly. Something I used to do. Like a circular home coming movie, I went away to find something new and discovered that what I was searching for was what I had left behind; climbing. I will climb an 8a, just not yet. Why I want to climb one doesn’t need justifying any more than the desire to climb in the first place, but at least I’ve stopped ‘journeying’ and started climbing again.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Bravo Ged!
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He chose 'climbing for joy' then... The quitters path of Benedict Farley :fishing:
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He chose 'climbing for joy' then... The quitters path of Benedict Farley :fishing:
sadly not anymore Rich. Since dedicating myself to redpointing I haven't had much fun. Its been endless failure, long drives home in a state of misery, with occasional moments of joy as the odd chain is clipped... Then within minutes its back to square one and resume the journey again. Success is momentary, failure is forever. ;)
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What a brilliantly bleak summary of projecting.
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Next Hangar t-shirt design...
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He chose 'climbing for joy' then... The quitters path of Benedict Farley :fishing:
:lol: Ben's no quitter he's just got too much energy.
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Winter misery. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/12/winter-misery.html)
16 December 2013, 7:51 am
I have been rained off two weekends in a row, well drizzled rather than rained!! I have been frequenting walls rather than crags on my precious non-work days and it is all a bit depressing. I have had an epiphany though when it comes to indoor problems, it is this:
The important holds indoors are not the ones you use, rather it’s the ones you miss out that count!!
In an attempt to lift the usual mid-December funk here’s a video from the past which quite clearly shows what sunshine actually looks like. It also contains a nice cameo from Crouchy looking like the captain of a yacht!! Enjoy.
Hoppo's Warton Takedown (http://vimeo.com/14389638) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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A Sense of Adventure. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/12/a-sence-of-adventure.html)
16 December 2013, 9:25 pm
???????
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3V3Q_0ra-J4/UpCVRRtpmgI/AAAAAAAABms/P_mtaEObQCQ/s320/photo+2-2.JPG) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3V3Q_0ra-J4/UpCVRRtpmgI/AAAAAAAABms/P_mtaEObQCQ/s1600/photo+2-2.JPG)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Perfect Grit conditions, where the adventure begins.[/td][/tr]
[/table]I’ve been looking through old climbing magazines lately and have felt a tinge of nostalgia. The disappearance of magazines such as, “On the Edge” and “Friction” have definitely left a hole in the scene. These publications lived their lives on the cutting edge, they hung out with the elite and told us tales that would frustrate and inspire in equal measure. In the mid 2000’s a few words and a glossy picture could send me scurrying to the far flung corners of the UK to try the new and exciting. Distance and fuel costs were never a consideration when planning a trip; miles were consumed greedily and the collective carbon footprints of those imprisoned in my car swelled unsustainably, driven by an insatiable appetite for discovery and adventure. This glut of experience had to come to an end eventually. Higher fuel prices, guilt and commitments have led my bouldering horizons to edge a little closer to home. I have traded adventure for focus, distance for difficulty; projects have pulled me along when it was once the joy of travel. This approach is better for the planet and my pocket, however I do feel that I have lost something; constant rounds of projecting can leave you feeling a little stale.
A recent invitation lead me to somewhere new, I had read about this venue and been impressed by pictures of it, but didn’t really had the drive to visit. It took a few well-chosen words from Fatneck to motivate me. He got me to change my plans and choose to do something a little more adventurous than the usual lock, pull and fail that had become a weekend ritual over the last few months. It started with an innocent enquiry about what he was up to that Sunday, he texted and simply stated that he would be going to Hunter's Stones with his wife. That’s all it took. I do understand that this wasn’t an invitation however it seemed to act as some kind of spark; all I needed was for somebody else to take the first step and I was off - fizzing. I quickly texted back stating that I would meet him there! It was at this point that my adventure genes, the part of my character that simply didn’t care about cost, pollution and consequences which had lain dormant, hidden, started to wake and kick start the same frenetic frenzy that once characterised my weekend climbing trips. Yes I was going to Hunter's Stones. No, I didn’t know where it was but I was going to try and find it any way!! Frantic web searches and the judicious use of Google maps would get me close enough, the rest was up to fate. [tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2sL0C7Nr_oE/UpCU71LtHDI/AAAAAAAABmM/Nv3dLrdsj2w/s320/IMG_20131116_124152_196.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2sL0C7Nr_oE/UpCU71LtHDI/AAAAAAAABmM/Nv3dLrdsj2w/s1600/IMG_20131116_124152_196.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Sam sending a 7a at Norwood[/td][/tr]
[/table]Sometimes flying blind really is the best way to travel, making it up as you go along makes you pay attention. In this state a drive along well-worn roads will lead to multiple discoveries that had previously escaped you. A good example is the proximity of Halifax to Liverpool! I honestly thought it was hidden deep in the Yorkshire moorland; however it is so close to the border of the red rose county that you can almost taste the Lancastrian vapours that flow over Saddleworth Moor. Another discovery on my path to nowhere was the Masala Fishery in Bradford (this could be my version of Nirvana – spicy fish and chips). Finally on the sinuous roads of West Yorkshire I came to realise that discovery is necessarily a product of loss! Guess what, I was very lost.
I didn’t find the parking. I knew I was close, but I couldn’t see any landmarks. There was a trig point and a pylon to guide the way, all I could see was a plantation of pines. I parked at the edge of a forest, took a deep breath and headed in the direction I thought might yield the best return. I have a beard you see - like all the best adventurers. I’m no stranger to mud. I could find my way (or so my Y chromosomes were telling me), no need to ask anyone. I could live out my outdoorsman fantasies as I went. The dog was in his element as he stalked along forgotten paths discovering bridleways, horses, ramblers, paintball camps, and eventually some boulders.
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3DK8sX0xIu4/UpCVHlyNPGI/AAAAAAAABmc/v9oO-oLkKwA/s320/IMG_20131110_143705_694.jpg) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3DK8sX0xIu4/UpCVHlyNPGI/AAAAAAAABmc/v9oO-oLkKwA/s1600/IMG_20131110_143705_694.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Fatneck feeling some vibrations on Wavelength[/td][/tr]
[/table]
We had arrived!! It was eerily silent. Where was Fatneck? Where was the famous Hunters Roof? Why were the boulders so small? Where had my ego led me? My sense of adventure disappeared and I just felt a little sad and alone. It was time to drop the pretence; I’m no man of the wild!! Like the soft city gentleman I truly have become in my thirties I reached for my mobile phone. My beard morphed from adventurer’s weather proofing back to hipster chin apparel. I rang Fatneck. He gave me instructions, he gave me tips, it didn’t help!! Eventually he guided me in by bellowing my name (he sounded a bit like a musky bull attracting a mate). Other countryside users looked scared, the dog looked happy to be saved from a directionless future; I was more than faintly embarrassed.
I may have had my initial enthusiasm blunted slightly that day on the way to Hunter's Stones, however by the end of the day I had redoubled my desire for adventure, getting lost, being found and eventually having an experience that may have been overlooked in search of numbers. Hunter's Stones and the neighbouring Norwood were great venues made up of free-standing, naturally sculpted Yorkshire grit, something I had almost forgotten about when questing on the small crimps of the white stuff!! I’ll accept that grit climbing can be a bit luck-based, but it wasn’t the moves that got my juices flowing that day, it was the devil may care, see what might happen approach to a climbing session. There may not be much inspiration in climbing magazines nowadays, however instead of stopping the quest we should quest even harder and further for the new and exciting. Numbers and projects have their place, but there’s nothing quite like getting lost to remind you what’s there to be found.
Pictures from the Huthwaite and McShane collections. Thanks again to Sam for the video work!
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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A Festive Frodsham Fix. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2013/12/a-festive-frodsham-fix.html)
31 December 2013, 10:20 am
I have finally bucked the winter trend of warming up and getting chased back to the car by horizontal precipitation. For the first time in four outings I have managed to get a full and satisfying session on a silica-rich, natural climbing medium. Where did I find a location that would be kind and cater for my complex climbing needs? Well, Frodsham of course; a feast of dry holds in the festive season.
I always seem to climb at Frodsham between Christmas and New Year. A session on the familiar holds that decorate Frodsham's buttresses can be a therapeutic experience, helping a climber to work through the angst developed at dinner in the festive season. Once all those chocolates have been digested and a spare tyre deposited, desperation and disappointment kicks in. You ask yourself how this could have happened, knowing full well that basic gluttony was the root cause. You feel heavy, slow, ambitions blunted by the thought that you will have to try twice as hard to lift all that lard up the project you had previously been training for. This is where Frodsham soothes. Working your way along its crimps and slopers helps to convince that all is not lost, you can still pull down, send the problems you did before gluttony blinded you, and even aspire to great things in the year to come. Convinced that the worst of the seasonal excesses are behind you, the walk down the hill from Frodsham's self-help circuit can be a positive affair! But don't worry New Year's Eve will knock that out of you.
Frodsham, like other venues in Merseyside, lends itself well to eliminate climbing, enabling the climber to progressively work their way up the difficulty, building confidence in a time of physical exes and mental frailty. If you want to find out more about Frodsham and what it has to offer then read my previous post on its majestic buttresses here. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/never-forget-frodsham.html)
Thanks again to Sam for the video!
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Monsters (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/01/monsters.html)
8 January 2014, 8:37 pm
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OHLytgW7b-o/Us0FicQ4hxI/AAAAAAAABr0/58vke07zlc0/s1600/St-Jude-storm-approaching-016.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OHLytgW7b-o/Us0FicQ4hxI/AAAAAAAABr0/58vke07zlc0/s1600/St-Jude-storm-approaching-016.jpg)
Days are short, nights are long and dark. Mists mask the moors. A chill stalks the land as the long winter months spread out before us. Hope fades as successive weekends are devoured by dampness. Fear eats away at the soul: fear of inaction, fear of projects unfinished and slopers untamed. We seek sanctuary indoors under the halogen lights. We look for salvation under the board and grasp campus rungs in an attempt to ward off inaction, failure and weakness. Monstrous storms stalk the land as we scurry to the soft landings, friendly holds and comforting coffee of the wall; unaware of the dangers that lie within and the peril we place ourselves in!
At the outset a visit to the wall is a simple, innocent affair; one that involves cleansing exercise and structure, mediated by a steadily controlled march towards the high-minded principals of betterment. Those who stand on the mats working problems laugh, share beta and work together with little malice towards a common goal. This palace of wood and plastic becomes a place to escape the pressures of life, shed the stresses of work and escape the greed that surrounds us all. However they are there; In the shadows, watching, waiting, unaware of what their actions may unleash upon the world.
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JRoyghwwxDk/Us0GSsG1ohI/AAAAAAAABr8/JtsxGzHCVj0/s1600/monstors.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JRoyghwwxDk/Us0GSsG1ohI/AAAAAAAABr8/JtsxGzHCVj0/s1600/monstors.jpg)
My visits to the wall can be solitary. I spend much of my time on my own, locked into the discipline of routine, captivated by repetition and the strength this should bring. I disappear into a world governed by a steep angle punctuated by three holds. Lock, glide, swing; this is the rhythm of my sessions. I should be swinging towards strength, little do I know how weak I am, how vulnerable I have become alone under the board, separated from the safety of the herd. They are there at the edge of sight, circling, ready to make a move. Their increasing influence allows danger to chill the air. It is easy to forget yourself, surrounded by fingerboards and campus rungs.
You are in their world, you have strayed onto unfamiliar territory, for this is the domain of the beast.
The monsters who stalk the wall are ordinary people like you and me, mild mannered and personable, unaware of the dark powers they posses. The Sheriff of the Hanger is a perfect example. I've known this particular beast since his late teens, and as far as I can ascertain no evidence has come to light to prove that he is anything but a thoroughly decent example of the human species. However when the evenings draw in, the air becomes chill and mists obscure reality hiding the sins of the city, The Sheriff and his accomplices- The Dark Knight and The D Master can, in one simple action, steal souls, devour ambition, institute apathy and leave the soft tissues of all who see them torn and ripped beyond repair.
(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M1wDUjrAkNg/Us0G1EagGdI/AAAAAAAABsE/eu-sYD9LL9E/s1600/Lore+of+Beasts.png) (http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M1wDUjrAkNg/Us0G1EagGdI/AAAAAAAABsE/eu-sYD9LL9E/s1600/Lore+of+Beasts.png)
I once witnessed The Sheriff's dark energies with my own eyes, and am lucky to be here telling this tale! I was scarred by these events; sleep evades me now and when I do slumber my dreams are dark, haunted by beings that do not conform to the natural laws that govern our universe. I was stood under the campus board at The Hanger, intoxicated by caffeine and sugar, watching specks of chalk dance in the halogen beams that illuminate the movement and determination which characterise this corner of the wall. Others were trying to engage me however their words were broken by my metronomic movements on the campus rungs. At this point The Sheriff materialised on the mat - he jumped up and caught a small campus rung with one hand, without matching he slowly pulled through and caught a rung with his other hand somewhere in the far distant future! This awesome display of one-arm, static power sucked all of the oxygen from the lungs of those who observed it! We were struck dumb; The Sheriff strode away as if nothing special had happened! We the witnesses were left in a reality where only two paths were now possible: 1. Give up trying; descend into a pit of apathy knowing that such strength will always be beyond our capabilities or 2. Be inspired to repeat what was performed on the rungs in front of us, however this leads inevitably to torn tendons, misery and disappointment broken by only the occasional, brief sniff of small victory. Both of these paths are dark, both eventually lead to desolation. The Sheriff would never understand the dark seeds his actions planted in our desperate souls; this is the nature of the beast's power, it is unconsciously possessed and indiscriminantly expressed in ways that will encourage and stymie in equal measure.
?
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R8_dDcUgyv4/Us0HY5eRKYI/AAAAAAAABsU/x-SBDPRbq-w/s1600/IMG_20140102_191914_133.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R8_dDcUgyv4/Us0HY5eRKYI/AAAAAAAABsU/x-SBDPRbq-w/s1600/IMG_20140102_191914_133.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Only one of the three Beasts shown here is fictional.[/td][/tr]
[/table]All walls are inhabited by their own winter beasts, there shifting in the shadows, ready to perform amazing feats that you can only dream of. The beasts are haunted by their own demons, their climbing lives are harried by greater beasts that they can only dream of matching. The Knight, Sheriff and The Master can often be heard whispering in distant corners of The Hanger about strange, almost voodoo-like acts performed by titans, relayed to them on dancing, digital screens. The same excitement, fear and dread exists in the beasts' eyes when they talk of the monsters that stalk the shadows of their world. We are all caught in a cycle of expectation, disappointment, ambition, apathy, fear, strength, injury and failure.As the winds howl outside and we find ourselves in an inescapable, dark labyrinth of training, our beasts will hunt, haunt and sometimes engulf us. However there is hope, a glimmer on the horizon, something that may save us from the inevitable march towards tendonitis and the toll it will take. Spring will come, light and warmth will break across the land melting the ice and snow, animating the lands around us, leading all out again to real rock, to the sancuary of silica holds, beyond the dark power of the beast and the dualistic world of destruction and dismay that it creates.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Brilliant!!!
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:bow: :clap2:
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Best blog in the world! :bow:
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Is the Sheriff Mike Psyche and the D Monster Matt Donnely!?
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I'd say your right.
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Predictably as good as ever :clap2:
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Woodhouse (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/03/woodhouse.html)
3 March 2014, 9:41 pm
The word scar is ugly, hard, unyielding; It conjures images of damage and pain in the mind. There are many crags in this green and pleasant land that have the misfortune of having this word in their name. It casts a dark shadow over them, giving the impression than calamitous events lead to their creation, as if the rock faces were ripped mercilessly from nature, resting uneasily, raw in their landscapes. The word scar can feed into our filters, pre-load our perceptions of place and keep us away from adventures and experiences we can only judge first hand.
Halifax is home to such a scar. It lurks amongst the trees below the Albert Promenade. If you listen to the whispers, this scar lives up to the negative connotations that spring from its name. Dark, dank, green, slow to dry, decorated with glass, low ball, eliminate…….. the list goes on. You may wonder why I would ever wish to walk into Woodhouse Scar. Well I never really listen to whispers, I like to find out for myself! Whilst often disappointed the occasional success justifies such an approach. Woodhouse Scar sits at the eastern end of the Calder Valley in Yorkshire. The crag's reputation for dampness originates from its geographical position. The Calder Valley funnels and channels air from the damp west coast, eastwards and upwards, to the heart of the Pennines where it falls as precipitation of various types. Don’t let this put you off, don’t let the green hue of the grit here turn you away. Woodhouse has some tricks up its sleeve when it comes to Britain’s rain-blighted climate; ever dry walls that rarely feel the soft caress of rain.
There was a fleeting weather window in a wild winter of storms. We had a plan. We left the wet of the west, we disregarded the advice of others and set out for Woodhouse, if it was poor there the ever dry magnesium carbonate of Rotherham beckoned; not bad for a backup plan. We ascended the slopes of Saddleworth and approached Yorkshire. Our decision seemed foolhardy as the windscreen wipers went about their work. We crested the hill and made for Halifax.
The descent of the A629 took us into a twilight world outside the physical constraints of reality. A world which was both wet and dry, light and dark. We journeyed into a temporal space of indecision which mirrored our mood. Our lives were held in stasis, not knowing whether we would grate our hands on grit. The future morphed and changed as moisture appeared and disappeared from the windscreen at random intervals, stuck in a world simultaneously filled and devoid of ambition, emotions in flux flipping from expectation to despair in a fraction of a second. Suddenly the car broke through the Mist Event Horizon. We were no longer stuck in Schrodinger’s Paradox simultaneously embarked on a successful and unsuccessful bouldering trip. The quantum superposition of the journey collapsed around us, reality invaded the car; we would climb today……… in glorious sunshine.
A scar is only ugly if you think it is. We are conditioned to believe in a particular aesthetic when it comes to beauty, it is the same with climbing. The fashion of the time leads us to see things through a particular lens; today's scruffy eliminate venues were once highly prized places where fingers would be strengthened and moves rehearsed. Climbing walls have rid these venues of their raison-detre, changed our minds about their utility and led us to dismiss them as ugly and urban. However Woodhouse is not particularly eliminate; proud crags, situated in a wood, look out over fells and moors. Weatherproof problems bisect overhanging walls with no end of lines to try. Woodhouse scar is in town - that is undeniable, there is no walk in, dog walkers will bid you a good day as you huff and puff on a project, and yet the landings are not carpeted with the expected faeces and glass. The landscape is clean and quiet. Woodhouse is only ugly if you believe it to be. This is not a fashionable venue and it is all the better for it. Woodhouse is a scar in name only; give it a chance you may find beauty in the green and the grey.
One day at Woodhouse Scar (http://vimeo.com/84134992) from Climbing Beta (http://vimeo.com/climbingbeta) on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Bet my session was worse than yours! (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/03/bet-my-session-was-worse-than-yours.html)
23 March 2014, 9:43 pm
(http://ukbouldering.com/board/data:image/jpeg;base64,/9j/4AAQSkZJRgABAQAAAQABAAD/2wCEAAkGBhIQEBUUEhQQEBQUDxUVFBUWFRAVFRQQFBQVFBYQFBQXHCYeFxkjGRUUHy8gIygpLCwuFR4xNTAqNSgrLCkBCQoKDgwOGA8PGi4kHyQ1KSopMiwqKSosKSkvLywsKSwsLCksLCksLCksNSwsLCwpLCwpKSwpKSwpLCwpKSwpKf/AABEIALwBDAMBIgACEQEDEQH/xAAcAAEAAQUBAQAAAAAAAAAAAAAABQECBAYHAwj/xABOEAABAwIABwkKCwYFBQAAAAABAAIDBBEFBhIhMUFRFiJTYXGBkaHBExRSkpOisdHS0wcVIzJCVWJzgrLhFzNjlKPwQ1Ryg8IkNERl8f/EABgBAQEBAQEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABAwQC/8QAKBEBAAICAQQCAgEFAQAAAAAAAAECAxESEyExUQRBMmGhM1JxgZEi/9oADAMBAAIRAxEAPwDuKIiAiIgIiICIiAiIgIiICIiAiIgIiICIiAiIgIiICIiAiIgIiICIiAiIgIiICIiAiIgIitMg2hBci8+7jaqd8BB6ovLvkcap3yFdD2ReHfQVDVjYmpGQixTXDZ1qnxgNnWnGU2y0WJ8YDZ1p8YDZ1q8ZNstFifGA2dafGA2dacZNstFiCuGxXd+cSmpNslFj998Sr32NialXuixxXNOv0K4VTdqg9kVrZAdBCuQEREBERAREQEREBEWLUVlszc526gg93yhukrwfVnULcqxC/WTzrFqcLxRjfOGZe4iBIl5Ok3QBa3LjlH9BrnjaA4jxgLdaxHY8O1Rjx6cdRkuruEbhZY/eVvmve0bMxHWCtTdjzJwbfKUvvVbu6k4NvlKP3qbG297P4Q87WepO4SeGPE/Vanu5l4NvlKP3qpu5l4NvlKL3qbG2GGXwmeK72lYYpdsfQ/1rVjjzLwbfK0XvlaceZuDb5Wh96mzTZ3RTfwvPVpjn2RdL1rBx4m4NnlaL3qtOPE/gM8tRe9Tkmm0dzn2RdL/Uncp/4PnrVjjxP4DPLUXvFaceajg2eWoveK8jTau41G2Hok9ad71HhQj8D/aWqbuajg2eXoveKm7ip4OPy9H7xORptopp+EYOSP1uV4o5dcx5mMC0/dzU8Gzy9H7xV3dVHBs8vRe8U2abiKB+uaTmyB2J8WA6XzH8fqWn7uqng2eXo/bTdzU8Gzy9L2OTat4gpmsFmiw5zc7STpKvstEGO9R4EflYT6FcMdp9bY/KR9tk2abuWqrZnDQT6Vp8OO7vpR3/ANJieeiNzj1KQpsbYXnJJyXbDcO8U507DZ46/wAIW4xoWU1wIuM6goqprxvSCvWOcsNx0aivMwbTKLxpqoPGbMdYXsvKiIiAiLwq6jIbfWcw5UHjXVlt63TrOziUNW4TZC0lxAzLDwvhlsLSSc/Xc9q0DGDGJsLe61DjnPycQzucRqA9J0D0+vA2HCGM0kl8jeN1uObNtz6OU9C0nCuPdNEfnuqXjwLFoP3rsw/AtEw9jXPVmzjkR6om3DfxeGeM8wChspTaNurvhJncd5HDHxuypX+M4gdSjJceq4/4xHIyIehqg3FWFRU1u1reHf0R+ym7St4d3ix+yoRUQTox0reHd4sXsocdK3h3eLF7Kg0QTW7Os4Z3ixeyqHHGs4Z3ix+yoVUugm92NZwzvFj9lU3YVnDO6I/ZUMqXQTW66s4Z3RH7Kbr6zhndEfsqFuqhBM7r6zhn9EfspuurOGf0R+yoZEExutq+Gf0M9lV3XVnDP6Geyoa6pdBNbrqzhn9DPZVN11Zw8nmepQ10ugmDjZWcPL0j1I3G2sH/AJEvSD6Qoe6rdBsUGPdY3S9sg2PjYetoB61N0HwkNIyZ4iBtjOU3l7k/N1laGgKDteBcYw8ZVNMJANLbm45Wu3zeXRsC3HBONjX71+9dsPpG3+72XzPBUujcHMc5jhoc0kEchC3nF7Hdsto6ohrrjJlG9BOrLt80/aGbk0q7R9AQVGhzTnU3SVQkGwjSO3kXK8DYedG4MkN7neu28R2H09S3Wir7EPbzjaNisjZkVrHhwBGcEXCuXlRa7h7CQaT9nMOXWezmWwvdYE7BdcuxjrS+zL53nPyHfPPpHOFYEDh3DrWMdUSkljc0bdb3nRbjOrYLlchwtheSqlMkhu45gNTW6mNGoD9VNfCBhvu1R3Jh+Tgu0AaDJ9N3N83mO1asoKkqioSqIM+PAs7w0tikcHC7SBe4LmtGjjewfiCw+4OsTY2abONjmOix2LLpsNzx2LJHttHkDRYMuDkgEWGcBY/fj7OGUbPN3Dab3upO/pJ39LIYHPvki9gSeIBWLY8D03/RyO+86mha3dZY8nO1o9dmePJztaPT1gDb7+4G0Wzcqm6bA9K7TNb8cY9IWvqiuSk28WmDJjm3i0w2eXAVIBmmB/3IvUoqtoYmnJjc6Rx0WLSBykBRpU3ivT5bn8TR1n9FhNbYaze1pnTG1bYqzebTOkLIwtJB0g2PMrV7Vo+Vf9478xXiuuJ3G3VE7jb0igLrkAkNtlW02UnS0VO8C8hbyuYD1hZWK1NlCQ7C3/ktfcc55Vhy6lrUida1/LDlN7WrE61psgwLSW/ff1IvUsOrwdTsFxIXcjmE9QUMsnBsWXNG3bI0da89K1e83k6dq95tLylhLbGxAOi+mytYwuIA0k5lM40w5EjB9i/WR2LBwNDlzsHGeppPYtK5d4+b3XJvHzX0VJE42kLmOGkEtA5iQpSPA9Jrl/qR+pR+MMWTNb7A9JUWs+FskRaLTG3iKzkiLRaYbBPgulGiQH/cYVFzUoOUYwclozuJzHiCw1sjqfJob7WDznfqpO8Wtzvc6Sd49bne+zW7q4FWout0rkVEQbxiZjNlWppySDmieTnB1Rk/lPNst1HF3DDgch5u5vnNOh396xyL54a6xzZv70rq2LeGzPTsm/xIjky8drZR522dyhWEd3wJUZTCNmcch/X0qSWpYoV2UQL6j0HP6R1rbVFeFc60Tzsjd+Urj2Gq7ufdpT/gwkj/AFWLuxq63hk/9PL9270Lh2O8lqGqO1zW8xdGEHIHvJNybkm5O0nSVbdCiC+FwDgXAuaHDKANiW3zgHVm1qXfhenMgf3uBaRz8gFnc3XY0ZBGT80OaXW0b4hQl0QT8eHKYZI71aWtyhnLMohxJGU7JvcCwuoarmDnvc1oY1z3ENFrNBJIaOTQvG6XQbngpwGC5NuRN13C0sqQhwnaB0efQbbDc57qPK5sGKaWvM/c7c+HHNJvM/cq6lavWGFzzktBceJZrMXal2iNx52etbWyVr+UxDab1r5lG3W0YkuA7rf7A/Mop+LVSNMRHOz1q2ne6nJbI0tvn6PSsM3HNjmlZif8MM2suOaVlh1Lrvcdr3HpJV1RVl7WAhoyG2BAsTxu2rwKLo4x2/To4x2bZihO1kMhcQN96G/qtTWZTVYZG4ayT1i11hrLHj43vb3pjjx8b2t7FIYBcBUxk5gH36ASo9etNLkODrXsVpeOVZhreN1mEvjfUtfOMk3AiA57uPavHFZwFS0nMA135SO1YFbOHvJF7ZtPEF6YNqBG8l3gnpzLHpawdOPWmXDWLh+mXjROH1LiM4DWjzQolSXxbNOS9rDZxzXLRxayFfuWqeD86P1q0vjx1ik2jt28wtLUpWKzMdkUtuwxM0UDGgi+TEOgAn0KBlwDO3SzzmHqBVtZX5cbW2IIIvszCy85KxltWazvU7ebxGSazE+JYKIi6nQql1REF11tfwd4QyKl0Z+bKw5vtsu4eblhampTFibJrID/AB2Dmcck+lB3/EWpyZGN2PLOYHN1WXTlyPFtxFSAOGjPTkjsXXEHhXxZUT27Y3DnIK4XjpCXUVUNgD+ZuQ7sK72uT4y4LAlmhPzZGub+E3t5rupB88FUXrUQGN7mOzOa4tI+002PoXkUBUKIUFEREEqcEAUxlJNzYjYAXWz7VFLca+mtgtp2sj63ArTlzfGyTki0z7mHPgvN4tM+5TVXROpWskjcRlAAg2Oci/OMypFjbUt0OZ4jPUprHenyIIvvPQ39Vpiy+Px+Rji94ifP08YNZacrRtNSY31LtLmeIz1KMq618pu832agOQBeCqAuqmKlPxrEf6dFcda+IURVa0k2Gck2A49iuliLSWuBaRpB0habe2fFgnKpzLcgi54i0ZrcqjVt7KfJwWXbWHzpbdq1Bc2DJN+f6mYc+G835b+pmFbrMwXQ92fk3sALnba4Fh0rCWyYk02XJIdkY63fovXyMnTxzZ7zX4Um0IGthDJHNGgOIHMsvA+DBOXAkizRa20//F4YU/fy/ev/ADFbJiNSZTZXHwmjoBPas8+WceDn99njJea4uX32QUeGJobsa8ENJGcNOg21jQsjdbVeG3xI/UomV13E7ST0lWLWcGO3e1Y/406VJ8xCTOGp5SGl/wA4gZmtGk21BVw3gxsGQASSQconWRbPbVpXjgOLKqYhtlb1G/YpjHpmTLGP4RPS4jsWM2imauOvaO8s5/8AOStatZREXY6BERACk8W48qrgH8eM8wcD2KMWz/B9Q90rA7VGxzjykZLR19SDseKsWVVt+9j80BxXWFzv4PaPKmMmpoced28b5t10RAWn4+4LJDZmjO3M7s6rjoW4LyqadsjHMcLhwsUHyt8JGBe5zido3kw33FKB2gA8oK01fQONmLItJTyi7Hjeu49IeOfPy3C4ZhnBElLKY5BnGg6nN1OCDBREQWohRBuOFa1pwZGwaciIdFj2LUI9I5Qr++XZGRfe3vbj4l5g2zrnwYelEx7mZY4sfTiY9zttuPVeJGxNF8znn8oWoqVoMIxBxfO10rjtDS0DiB/sKZjxlohpp/6cPrWFOXx6RjrSZ0xpyw1ikVmWoqoW1TYw0R0QEfghHatdrpI3PJjDmtOo2zHi4l0Ystr/AJVmG9L2t5rpjtcQbjMQbg7DtV0spcS5xLidJOkqxFvpq2mswkPi5sdtLWC/4g7sWrLNpKxuUDMHPa0ANaLWzbVNw4foxppyfwRLiiJwbitZnczLkrE4dxWszudtXWyYm1YjMh2hnVlL3mxioj82nI/BD61DV2EGF4fC0xHX80AjkCWm2ek0tSY2Wm2as0mswwqmTKe47XuPSSVs+K1cIqWXblOPQwLU17wVGhry7ud7kNtc/wB2W2fDGSnFtkx868Xgi2imxgo2ixgJsPAiPWSsh+M9Fb/tz5OD1rKfkZIn+nP8PPVt/bKAxdlDamNx1OJ80rLxvrO61AI1RtHWT2qzCeEqeRu8jdG4Z2kBjc/HY6FFSzF5u43PqzL1WnPJGWY1OtFaza/OY19PNVsqLc8FTCsgfEGtibHEZDGwuLpBHYhtyMloJ1kkk6tK627TERFAXUcRMDmGmyiLSTkHjDPo9V3c61HE3Fo1UmW8fIsN3fbcM+QOLb+q7jihgDviXKcPk2WvsI1N5/Qg3LE/BncKYXFi/fHibazR0Z+dTiIgIiII7DeBmVUeS7MR812w+pcjxvxPEgMVQ0tcM8cg0jjB1j08q7asXCGDY6hmRI0OGraDtB1IPjzDmLs1I60jbtJ3rxfJdz6jxFRa+lcYsSHxh1miohIziwJA2Ob/AGORcwwv8HET7mnd3F3gOuWc30m+cqOcIpyuxLrIr3hc8D6Ufygtts3OOcBQr4y02III0g5j0KC1ERAREsgKqWWRQ1PcpGvyQ/JcDknQbaigx1RT1LjOWkl0MT7lm0b1geLa8okvB31wckAjZZ8fNtD8l+6DQRlNyX2aW5RGRmdrvn51RCIpd2Gm5QPc8q0kLt8Yy4iLLu0kRgWdljSPoi99XpLh+MyZXcG6IxYkG5jl7oT83WN7ydCCEVQFNSYfYSD3Jr7NkHync3Xy8iwOSxuYZJtr35sQvXBuMEMUr5DC6zomxtY1zbNAa1pdctuScnzje6DX0XtWStfI5zGiNpNw0EnJGy5XigIiICKtkyUFFmYOwvNTkmF5jLhZ1g03Gw3BWK1hJsASToAznoU3g/EqrmP7sxDwpN5z5J3x5ggg1sWLWJ0lUQ9944dOVoLxsZxcejlW2YExBghIL71EmwjeA8TdfPfkXT8A4jSS2dNeJmpv0iOQ6OU9CIhMV8VTLkxxNyImWubZgNp2nrK6tg+gZBGGMFgOknW48auo6NkLAyNoa0ah6SdZ417qKIiICIiAiIgKJwpivT1Gd7AHH6TcxvtOo84UsiDQ6z4OHjPDKDsDwR15+xRNTidW6HRtlHKxw6HE+hdSRBxx+JMuuhhP+xTn/gvM4kyf5CL+Xg92uzorscVdiO//ACEX8tD7tW7hnfV8f8tF7C7YibHFNwh+r4/5dnY1DiF/65nkPUF2tFBxPcCPq5vkXKjvg/b9Wt8lL2OXbUVHET8HzPq0eSm9pU/Z4z6tHk6jseu3og4efg6j+rfMqfeJ+zpn1d/TqPbXcEQcO/Z2z6u/p1Htqv7PGfV39Ob2l3BERw/9nzfq4eSk9aruAH1cPIvXb0QcQ3AD6vHkXepXNxC2YPaOWAH0tK7aiiuUUGJdUM0cDYRxCOMc4FvQp2h+DhxzzSAfZYL9ZsOorekQRuDMXoKf92wX8I53dOrmspJEQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQEREBERAREQf/Z)
The alarm I had set on my phone played its usual crass yet rousing tune, ushering in yet another day at the coal face. My eye lids struggled to understand the concept of opening on both a physical and theoretical level; with a little encouragement, revision and close tutoring they eventually peeled back and my pupils surveyed the day. The scene framed by my bedroom window was close to perfect, egg shell blue sky, a slight breeze lazily playing with the trees and evidence of frost at the edges of the glazing. It was on. The hours of pouring over Google maps, pictures and online topos the previous night would be worth it. I was heading for the first fully sunlit after work session of the year and my heart was filled with joy.
I headed to work buoyed by an unfamiliar feeling, instead of the usual dread; I was excited at what to come after the final throws of the working day. I felt untouchable, the master of my world. The usual stream of work related negativity shot at me simply rolled off the Teflon coat I know wore, woven from the slippery strands of hope and expectation created from pure psyche. Tasks were completed, wrongs were righted and the day passed in a blur.
This was not going to be the usual relaxed climbing session, the sun was due to set at 18.05, this meant that I would have to get to the crag of choice no later than 16.00 to make sure a worthwhile session would be had. This session could not be left to evolve; it needed to be structured, military in its execution. If all of these elements fell into place then it would be a fine two hours of climbing in the early spring evening. Passions were running high.
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)
I flew out of work at 15.00, my destination on the western edge of the Penines less than an hour away. Liverpool, St Helens, Windes, Warrington gone in the wink of an eye. These industrial towns marooned in Merseyside, land locked by the un interesting flatness of the Cheshire plains held no interest for me now, I was headed to loftier places. I started the climb up to the moors. The light, like the landscape softened; glowed almost. Grasses ravaged by a wet winter swayed in the gentle breeze. Time seemed to elongate as the expectations of perfect conditions and dry rock created its own reality and serenity in the car. Yes this was a mad mission, yes the climbing would need to be frenetic, but the soft evening light that flowed through the deep Pennine valleys, skipped across it rounded hills and caressed the water of its reservoirs made it all worth it. As I drove along ever uphill it almost felt like I was ascending from the work based nightmare of public service into my own mini Nirvana of movement and freedom……Perfection if you will.
It was at this precise moment of serenity that I hit the jam. Not any jam, no. This was the mother of all traffic jams, a jam so intense it tested every fiber of my being. I was less than ten miles from my destination, caught between motorway junctions with no means of escape. I could see my chosen crag between the hills, dry and accommodating, it was so near I could almost touch it. There was hope. It was 15.45; I started to watch the clock. There was no movement amongst the sea of steel, rubber and chrome that spread before me. I no longer measured my journey in terms of landscapes, rather the perpetual passing of seconds; seconds that would force me into a decision. 16.00 my expected time of arrival came and went, but I still felt I could salvage something from the evening, I was so close. 16.30 approached and disappeared into that bottomless immeasurable pit that we call the past, I started to worry. 17.00 arrived and I had to make a decision. For an hour and a quarter hope and fate had battled over my future, for an hour and a quarter I had nailed my colours to the flag held aloft by hope. For an hour and a quarter hope had blinded me, allowing me to believe that a future moving across rock bathed in sunlight could be a possibility. Fate won out. I would not climb on rock tonight.
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)
I was forced to make a decision, I would, at the first opportunity, turn round and head home; back to Liverpool, back to the wall. I was consumed by rage, a rage that was shared by the thousands of souls around me cast adrift on a motorway of misery. At that moment of realisation, the moment that my dream evaporated in the beautiful evening light, I could have killed; I could have run from the car, ripped out the hearts of innocent woodland creatures and used their blood to paint profanities in the sky. I wanted to strip to the waist, douse myself with petrol and set myself alight, ready to run between the cars; a physical manifestation of my frustration that might restore some natural balance to the world which had suddenly gone very wrong. It took me another half an hour to reach a junction and turn around, half an hour of fading light and impending natural darkness; a darkness eclipsed by the darkness of my mood.
It took for ever to get back to Liverpool. I had to battle more busy motorways, rush hour and my own wounded self. I eventually arrived at The Hanger at 19.00 - four hours after I had set out on my adventure after work. Four hours to complete what is normally a twenty minute journey from work to the wall. I arrived in poor humour, but coffee, camaraderie and a little perspective helped me to get over myself. Let’s face it no one died (but it felt close). One thing I can say though is, that night, my session was definitely worse than yours.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Anston Wood (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/03/anston-wood.html)
27 March 2014, 8:12 pm
Someone liked a video on my Vimeo account the other day. It took me a fair while to work out which video it was. The video in question was one I had actually made. It had remained hidden in a post in the now (mostly) redundant Raw Edge Days blog site that I used to contribute to. I watched it and realised that this video was worth posting again as the venue it captured has certainly been a major feature of my bouldering for a long time.
I had forgotten about Anston Wood, forgotten about the magnesium carbonate crags that populate the edges of this green slash through Rotherham's post industrial hinterland. I'd forgotten about the diversity of angles, hold types and problems that call this wood home; most importantly I'd forgotten how much I enjoy climbing here! Pound for pound Anston is probably the best limestone bouldering crag in the UK. Big claim I know, but not many venues can boast this number of pure lines and link ups. It even has difficultly and suits those climbing in the high 7's and 8 rather than those looking for a big circuit day. The only thing that spoils this tranquil spot is the railway track that bisects it but, to be honest, the coal trains that use it are very rarely seen on a weekend.
I hadn't been to Anston Wood in a long time. My last visit pre-dated the publication of the area guide book and thus I hadn't been led around Anston's various buttresses by the written word. I was there with Showtime; refugees from a typical wet Sunday over in the North West. A quick look at the glossy guide reminded me that I had been visiting this spot for fourteen years (according to a photo in the history section anyway). Even though it rained we climbed, even though I had been here a lot we discovered buttresses we had never climbed on, even though Anston Wood has a reputation for hard problems we climbed lots of quality below 7a. The rediscovery of my Anston video reminded me how good this place is. My visit with Showtime illustrated quite clearly that forgetting about a venue this good is more than just careless.
Watch the video below and judge Anston's quality with your own eyes. The climber featured in this short is the author of all that is good on magnesium carbonate limestone - M'adams himself. Enjoy!
Magnesium Bouldering Action (http://vimeo.com/16969491) from Owen McShane (http://vimeo.com/user2114906) on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/).
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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We where talking at chutney a few weeks back about your time helping develop anston. All I can say is thanks for the local crag..
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Dolerite Daze. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/04/dolerite-daze.html)
10 April 2014, 2:58 pm
(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ljEUyrd4os/UzqPvbXgDsI/AAAAAAAABuA/W0p-bgQLVCA/s1600/CAM00024.jpg) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ljEUyrd4os/UzqPvbXgDsI/AAAAAAAABuA/W0p-bgQLVCA/s1600/CAM00024.jpg)
I have said it before and I will put it out there again; dolerite is my favourite climbing medium - by quite some margin. The Boss Curiver Bloc hidden in the evergreen expanses which guard Beddgelert, the erratics that dot the majestic Ogwen and Llanberis valleys, the chaotic jumble secretly secreted in Crafnant’s upper reaches and the blue stones that sit proudly on the hilltops of North Pembrokeshire; I just can’t get enough of it. Deconstructing the dolerite experience gives us some pointers as to what makes it so addictive: dolerite can be rounded like grit, or angular- laser cut almost, like granite; lines always follow strong features, holds can be pinchy, sloping, or even savage and crimpy; however they all have one thing in common – texture. Dolerite is like shark’s skin, it has possibly the best frictional qualities of anything (rock or otherwise) that I have chosen to slap in my entire life. On a cold day you almost feel able to pull yourself up holdless dolerite faces through the adhesion created between your skin and this rasping rock alone. One salient feature elevates the dolerite experience above all others and that is the effect of location; location, location, location. There’s nothing quite like a boulder with a view, a grassy landing front and back and the potential for further development when the correct resources are available.
(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XOnAorU3HgM/UzqOl8H7p_I/AAAAAAAABts/u2h6evYr7zk/s1600/IMG_20140323_114333_583.jpg)(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u68AnFRARfA/UzqOfXs0iAI/AAAAAAAABtc/iLQ0nsYTits/s1600/IMG_20140323_114328_319.jpg)My favourite dolerite venue of the moment nestles on the hill in the middle of the sleepy town of Rhiw, far out on the western tip of North Wales. To most this small town would be an inconsequential cluster of whitewashed cottages with a priceless view and an air of the 1930’s. To the rabid boulderer it serves as the gateway to Porth Ysgo with its proud technical lines and miraculous micro-climate. We’ve all driven through Rhiw and looked at the dolerite hog back there on the hill. We’ve all thought, “hmm I wonder if there is any potential there?” and we have all driven on, dazzled by the promise offered by Ysgo’s stellar lines. Recent developments have changed that. A band of super-keen individuals have brought this crag to life, (you can read about it here (http://www.northwalesbouldering.com/newsitem.asp?nsid=679) and here (http://www.northwalesbouldering.com/newsitem.asp?nsid=681)) sending and reporting enough lines to get a Merseyside boulderer to stop and look on the way to Ysgo.
(http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fCLyzh7_dc8/UzqOpriME1I/AAAAAAAABt0/jEabXSltSCA/s1600/IMG_20140209_151003_268.jpg)
My first visit to Clwt y Fiaren and the Fisherman’s View Boulders was only meant to be a short fact-finding mission, an aperitif to my main course which was to be served at Porth Ysgo. However I found the experience so absorbing I was still there shedding skin as the sun started to set; I just could not leave. A second visit was scheduled, but this time in the cool, sunny conditions of a spring Sunday. This trip confirmed what I had already suspected – this spot ranks amongst the very best bouldering locations in the UK. No really ……it is.
Yes the site has deficiencies: there’s not a lot there and if you are looking for big numbers you will be disappointed; however the lines that have been developed are strong and proud and there is quite a lot to do around 7a. The element that places this venue in the bouldering premier league is the setting. You will have to travel a long way to live out your dreams in a better landscape. As you boulder on clean, rough dolerite the sweep of Hell’s Mouth arcs away into the distance towards Abersoch. Corduroy seas ripple past and break on panoramic shores as seals and dolphins swim lazily by. . .
Welcome to nature’s smorgasbord - it doesn’t get any better than this.
(http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xWLtHxXrbFg/Uz5_LZkGEHI/AAAAAAAABug/01rpDYmacq0/s1600/IMG_20140209_151119_662.jpg)
Bouldering can be more than pulling hard, training, grades and posturing. Climbing can be something deeper. Spending a day slapping slopers, bathed in spring sunshine, as the sea shimmers into infinity is as close to perfect as is possible. The boulders that populate the slopes around Rhiw are good; bouldering in this landscape is great – mind blowingly so! Go once and you’ll go again, even with Porth Ysgo on the doorstep. You really won’t be disappointed by this daze of dolerite.
Thanks to Sam once again for the vid and to Hip Hop Ben for the first photo.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Pex Killer. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/05/pex-killer.html)
15 May 2014, 9:30 pm
(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gv5Zk2GmNDw/U0eWLmfDkBI/AAAAAAAABu0/u_ZsOutnkIo/s1600/IMG_20140411_065503.jpg) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gv5Zk2GmNDw/U0eWLmfDkBI/AAAAAAAABu0/u_ZsOutnkIo/s1600/IMG_20140411_065503.jpg)
This post is a confessional, an admission of guilt, a cleansing of the soul. I have done a bad thing- something reprehensible, something I just can't undo. It's a simple case of murder, murder most horrid and I am the perpetrator. I will not make excuses: I am guilty, I just need to share this burden before they send me away to dwell with others who are guilty of crimes against climbing.
It was the last Thursday of term, the hour had sprung forward and there was enough daylight to climb after work. I was due to train, however the fine grain of the wood I was about to work repetitively did not appeal. I needed to feel fine granules of rock under my tips. Time was short, darkness was approaching, an hour at Pex was all I was going to get; however an hour on Pisa Wall in my world is the equivalent of a full-blown session anywhere else. I jumped into the car and disappeared into the gathering gloom.
As I drove eastwards, showers plagued the Cheshire plain and a strange half-light dulled the edges of reality; everything felt dark, an edgy atmosphere gripped my car. Nevertheless, when I arrived at the quarry I was relieved to find everything dry; though the feeling of unease lingered.. Pex had escaped the showers and the rock was good and grippy. The feeling of friction transmitted through my fingers lulled me into a false sense of positivity, whilst everything around me warned that evil was near. Happily trapped in my dynamic bubble, bouncing between holds, I did not notice the skies darkening and remained blissfully unaware of the horror that inched its way towards me. The deeper into the circuit I got, the more vulnerable I became. My own enthusiasm made me greedy for more problems, milking the light for every last move it could facilitate. In my rabid state I was unaware of my own gradual slide into darkness, Little did I know that I could be capable of dastardly deeds, that I would be the villain of this piece.
I decided that one more sit-start would be possible. It started to spit with rain, the wind grew in strength and the light had all but disappeared. The omens were bad but I was propelled by a demonic energy, a need to consume climbing! I sat down and threw for a hold that I have used a thousand times, a hold that has been used by legions; a hold that has borne the weight and expectations of the entire Merseyside climbing scene at some point. I pulled up and was sent into a violent spin. The hold exploded from the wall releasing such energy that it banished the evil climbing spirit from the quarry that had possessed me. I sat sat there on my mat, dizzy. I could not comprehend what had happened: I was on the floor, bruised and covered in sand. I looked up and saw the massive rock scar that was now superimposed on Pisa's red, chalky patina. I moved from a state of incomprehension to realisation to remorse in a blink of an eye and wailed to the winds "What have I done?''
So, I admit it was me; I pulled the hold off Pisa at Pex. I disproved the prevailing theory that this wall was made of unbreakable sandstone that could stand up to the elements and all that could be thrown at it for all eternity I will take my punishment, hanging my head in shame. I am a killer full of remorse. I mourn the myriad of eliminates that have now been lost to the world and can only hope that in time I will be forgiven; it is more than I deserve.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Fat bastard...
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Summer's here it's time to get out. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/05/summers-here-its-time-to-get-out.html)
22 May 2014, 9:32 am
I know there has been some rain this week, but really there is no getting away from the fact that summer has arrived. The crags are dry, the sky is blue and flower bloom in the high meadows. It’s time to get out people the boulders and crags are calling you.
In an attempt to get your wanderlust flowing here are some clips from our activities at the Churnet and Pantymwyn. Enjoy, become enthused and get out there - those problems won’t climb themselves.
Simple Simon and variations - Wright's Rock, Churnet Valley (http://vimeo.com/88580579) from Climbing Beta (http://vimeo.com/climbingbeta) on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/).
Devil's Gorge - Pantymwyn (http://vimeo.com/92056542) from Climbing Beta (http://vimeo.com/climbingbeta) on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/).
Thanks to Sam for the videos - check his Vimeo Channel for more
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Shady Slimestone. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/07/shady-slimestone.html)
11 July 2014, 11:15 am
My fingers have not danced across the keys of keyboard for quite some time. The reason for this is simple; the weather has been good and the Limestone crags that generally lurk in our deep river valleys, dripping, dank are actually dry! So dry in fact, that any thought of typing or training have been wiped from consciousness by an insatiable need to climb.
As the summer sun has heated our landscapes and bathed the hill tops, all rock with a high silica content has been rendered un-climbable, radiating heat and causing skin to roll off finger tips at an alarming rate. The sanctuary afforded by shady limestone has become hard to resist and crags from the North East of Wales to the South of the Lake District have been plundered for their potential and their protection from the sun.If the climbing wall is getting too hot, and you need to escape into this summer wonderland of dry rock and long days I hope the following videos will inspire you to get out and leave that campus board alone. Both short films feature Devils Gorge, a favourite of us Scouse climbers, and a particularly good spot to find good conditions in the morning in a hot sunny summer. Both films come from Sam, visit here to see more of what he has been up to.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Yet Another Indian Summer. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/09/yet-another-indian-summer.html)
16 September 2014, 7:23 pm
I have a hankering for grit. I want to feel its rasping grains exfoliate the callus built up on my tips over a summer of crimping. I want to slap slopes, hang off my bones rather than pull with my muscles. Most importantly I want to return home from a day's bouldering with the skin of my forearms and torso on fire- abraded by the silica grains that coalesce into gargoyle-like shapes on the tops of the Pennine moors, however it's too hot! August and its faint wet whiff of a coming winter lulled me into a belief system founded upon the central theory that the Grit would come early this year, Alas, just like the follower of many a modern-day cult, I was simply wrong- I was lucky to escape with both my skin and my long-held faith in this wonderful, luck-based, rocky medium intact!
So, just as in July, Limestone has been the order of the day. Pulling rather than palming, standing on distinct edges rather than knowing that my foot will stick to any part of my boulder problem of desire. On the other hand it's dry and not going out on a sunny day would only allow deep, chronic injuries to heal - and what boulderer in their right mind would want to entertain such nonsense?
It has been hard to stay motivated when indulging in one rock type exclusively. Many venues have been visited to engender some sense of variety in my climbing life: Ogmore, Dinas, Ruthin, Waton, Woodwell, Fairy Steps, the Pill box and The Cave have all taken a turn and all are still on the radar as the sun continues to shine.
If you feel jaded on your own personal limestone journey of projects and pulling here are some videos from Sam to keep you going. Don't worry, the grit will be here soon and we will all be able to complain in chorus about bloody technical sequences........ and all will be good with the world.
The first video features Ruthin, a crag close to my own heart; a brilliant after-work venue with a good spread of grades from V2 to V8. The video itself features a real 'misery of clowns', and the legend which is Fatneck. You can read more about Ruthin here (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/ruthin-reloaded-pwllglas-project.html) and here (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/02/ruthin-escarpment-pwllglas-bouldering.html).
Ruthin Escarpment Bouldering - North Wales (http://vimeo.com/101473714) from Climbing Beta (http://vimeo.com/climbingbeta) on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/).
The second video is from Woodwell, one of the finest Limestone craglets in the country; famed for its steepness, marred slightly by its rules. The video has a slight caveat attached: one of the problems featured, "Kiss of the Dragon", was not ascended as per regulation, so please don't think this is the beta needed for an easy V8 tick. The problem starts to the right of the crack and involves a long, stiff pull to get to the small crimps used in the vid.
Woodwell Bouldering (http://vimeo.com/101849178) from Climbing Beta (http://vimeo.com/climbingbeta) on Vimeo (https://vimeo.com/).
So go and grunt your way across all the crimps limestone has to offer. You'll be dragging your skin across something friction-full soon enough.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Nice.
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New from old. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/11/new-from-old.html)
2 November 2014, 8:33 pm
[tr][td](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k8p51icSnj8/VFSRWF5JBaI/AAAAAAAACOM/uBTXzyU5ZuE/s1600/Lancashire-Bouldering-Cover-211x300.jpg) (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k8p51icSnj8/VFSRWF5JBaI/AAAAAAAACOM/uBTXzyU5ZuE/s1600/Lancashire-Bouldering-Cover-211x300.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]New guide and a new attitude - could be a game changer![/td][/tr]
[/table]It's always exciting when a new guide materialises marshalling the resources of a particular area; be it virtual or print copy, a buzz will always ripple through a community of climbers when a new tome arrives. I was particularly excited as I leafed through a copy of the Lancashire Bouldering guide. I must admit I was searching for something as I flicked through the pages of the book for the first time; something that added a certain nervous energy to my rabid page-turning. There was a good chance that a picture I had taken was in this shiny new book and, after a feverish couple of minutes, there it was: a photo of Fatneck dancing across a low roof in the dappled light of an early summer evening. I texted him instantly and announced that he was now 'Mr Parbold', an accolade that could sit proudly on his metaphorical mantelpiece next to the picture of him in the Merseyside Sandstone Guide that places the honour of being 'Mr Breck Quarry, Wallasey' on his powerful shoulders. Now, it would be hard for most to handle the responsibility of visually representing these quarries to the climbing masses, however Fatneck, in his usual modest fashion, took it all in his stride summing up the enormity of his feat with the following well-chosen words, "Fatneck- the face of choss''. I feel a career in politics or diplomatic relations awaits the great man.
I've been to some of the Lancashire quarries in the past. I visited the Wiltons at the start of my climbing career in a previous trad incarnation. A trip to Brownstones resulted in me running back to Merseyside with my tail well and truly between my legs muttering inanely about no holds and hard grades. These two experiences led me to dismiss most of Lancashire as a potential playground in favour of the well publicised areas surrounding Leeds, Bradford and Silverdale. I fell into a mindset that the Lancashire quarries were technical, made mostly of flat walls dripping with old school boulder problems inaccessible to a climber like me who simply drags his feet behind him as his arms windmill wildly and ineffectively through steep terrain. I simply closed my mind to the potential on my doorstep in the Pennines.
When I heard that a guide was coming it piqued my interest; I sought out videos and investigated what had been going on. I must admit, as good as the media was, it didn't really change my mind. Age can be a terrible thing: it can rob you of the innate optimism that drives the desire to give things a go, you can become blinkered, caught on a path of projects and progression, devoid of excitement and adventure. So rather than investigating the quarries and moors of Lancashire I sought adventure in the familiar and found my climbing horizons edging closer to me rather than stretching out indefinitely.
The guide arrived and on first flick I hung on to the belief that this publication would do little to change my default direction of travel. But I didn't put it down; I kept flicking - going over and over the pictures, topos and descriptions. The longer I looked the greater my sense of awakening and the deeper the realisation that I had been wrong all these years. There is a massive playground out there in the boulder fields and quarries of Lancashire and I'm not too old to go out and play in them, I just need to regress back to my childhood self and reach that state where climbing is done for enjoyment rather than through some feeling of necessity . The acid test for the guide however would always be visiting venues and I'm glad to say a visit to a wet Stony Edge and Sladen Roof didn't do anything to curb my new-found enthusiasm. I didn't really climb anything but the potential of these venues was clear to see; the final wisp of the mists that have clouded my opinion of Lancashire evaporated, never to return again!
Now I don't want this post to seem like one long advert for a new guide, to draw that conclusion would miss the point. This guide acts simply as a vehicle, a porthole to a new attitude and as such a whole new area to explore. For all of those operating in the North West and Merseyside this new book opens up so much potential less than an hour from the front door. Venues full of slopers, crimps, roofs, walls and mantles await your inspection and effort. Yes there will be some chossy lines, but choss exists everywhere- the secret is not to let the choss fill your perceptive filters. Don't cut yourself off from hours of fun because of a few minutes spent on a poor line. I for one will be spending my winter in Lancashire, guide in hand, captain of my own ship, setting forth on a tide of new lines and the spirit of adventure.
If you want to find out more about the Lancs Bouldering guide you will find all you need to know here (http://www.lancashirebouldering.com/).
Big thanks to R Man for letting me use his vids in this post.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)
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Its whats inbetween that counts. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/2014/11/its-whats-inbetween-that-counts.html)
15 November 2014, 10:46 pm
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1YYEMpypteg/VFeX07alRVI/AAAAAAAACOs/ATORkJxP3xU/s1600/IMG_20140415_104333_404.jpg) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1YYEMpypteg/VFeX07alRVI/AAAAAAAACOs/ATORkJxP3xU/s1600/IMG_20140415_104333_404.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Unexplored coasts full of potential.[/td][/tr]
[/table]I went to Mid Wales during my Easter break, visiting friends amongst the vivid green Cambrian corrugations that make this part of the world so special. The seaside town of Aberystwyth stands as a halfway point on my own personal timeline - looking South to my past and North to my present; as such it occupies a unique place in my personal geography. Usually a trip to this part of the world would lead to a coastal adventure at Clarach and Borth (read about previous trips here (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/oh-i-do-like-to-be-beside-seaside.html), here (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/feel-lick-of-leviathan.html), here (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/clarach-bay-bouldering.html) and here (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/borth-bouldering-slice-of-mid-wales.html)) or alternatively in Barmouth or Cae Du, however on this occasion time and tide were against me. The alternative was clear and I looked South and to the past for adventure, focussing on the county that I called home for the first 19 years of my life. I headed back to Newport in North Pembrokeshire, to Mynidd Dinas and the developed dolerite crags that crown the northern flanks of the Preseli hills.
The A487 coastal road draws you south from Aberystwyth to Newport; a tarmac trail that hugs the edge of civilised cultivation before it drops into the wild surf below. Vistas of sea and cliff rob you of your conscious self, testing your powers as the mind drifts and the smell of brine hangs heavy in the air. Villages which have fed the Welsh diaspora, depopulated by the Pied Piper of progress and urban dreams, tick by; acting as a yardstick on a journey so stunning that you lament its end. Every mile reveals another ripple in the rocky coastline: beaches, coves and cliffs tempt you to stop to see what potential might lie there. However time is a cruel mistress, When it is short you will always drive on to established venues, developed, described by a book leading to you to an experience that deftly fits into the few hours you have; leading you to ignore what lies in between.[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C3d7dARVaEY/VFeb8Z-4ctI/AAAAAAAACPE/dCoLkhEsCCU/s1600/IMG_20140726_072127_977.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C3d7dARVaEY/VFeb8Z-4ctI/AAAAAAAACPE/dCoLkhEsCCU/s1600/IMG_20140726_072127_977.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Some of the unclimbed Rhyolite that exists above Newport [/td][/tr]
[/table]Newport features highly as one of the main bouldering areas of Pembrokeshire in the new Pembrokeshire Climbers club guide (Volume 1 Pembroke North). Above the town there are rhyolite crags such as Carn Foi and Carn Cwn, developed to an extent but with lots of potential for further lines. Although looking at the guide, I found myself climbing the lines that existed in-between those reported, in-between the brush marks, in-between the established. And my thoughts returned to the drive: to the coast, to what may exist undiscovered and untouched in-between the pages; existing in the unwritten, in-between land and sea. To the South of Newport the Dolerite crags of Mynidd Dinas can be seen clearly from the road. Carn Enoch, Carn Sefill and Garn Fawr are well-known to the attentive boulderer. Not only do they grace the pages of the Pembrokeshire Guide, they also play a cameo in Boulder Britain. In this corner of Pembrokeshire chalk adorns rock, decorating the paths of previous ascentionists and giving a clue to the sequence that may unlock a problem. These crags are by no means fully climbed out, but strong lines draw the eye and the question of what may lay in-between is lost in the industry of the send and intricacies of the line. The view from these high crags on a sunny day can distract even during the focus of a send. The coastline ripples and reticulates lazily and seemingly infinitely both North and South. A glance at the guide suggests there is nothing there, no sport, no fun; and yet you must question what lies in-between.
[tr][td](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B2WHNxK9ED8/VFeXpxfBDsI/AAAAAAAACOc/mpYHT8A4wPc/s1600/IMG_20140415_104940_134.jpg) (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-B2WHNxK9ED8/VFeXpxfBDsI/AAAAAAAACOc/mpYHT8A4wPc/s1600/IMG_20140415_104940_134.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]A strong line at Garn Fawr[/td][/tr]
[/table]
Over the early summer I spent a lot of time on the LLyn, following my namesake Mr Heyward as he developed his way around the peninsula. Porth Ysgo and Trwyn Talfarach are established locations on the British Boulderer's map nowadays giving all the rasping experience that only seaside gabbro can provide. However Owen delved a bit deeper and unearthed unanticipated quality. Porth Nefoedd had been reworked the previous winter and new blocks had materialised further along the beach; where climbers had assumed there were none. The Hell’s Mouth block drips with quality, wave-washed dolerite that begs to be climbed. The walk in and the location gives you a real feel that you are 'there' - bouldering at the edge of the map, immersed in nature, unhindered by the complications of the human world. Individuals like Owen don’t wonder about what lies in-between, they seek out the gaps in the map: they find what's there and they fill in the gaps, increasing the size of our shared bouldering world in a time when technology seems to be making the actual world smaller as every day passes.
Late July and the commencement of high summer saw me travel back down the A487, back to Newport but on this occasion with time to explore. I passed Aberystwyth, the centreline of my life, with its developed wave-washed shale and drove on to the in-between; where the bouldering map is incomplete and gaps exist. As I passed Llanrhysud, Abeaeron, New Quey, Llangranog and Cardigan I thought of the way the Llyn has been developed recently and looked at this coast and the coast of North Pembrokshire with a new zeal. The bouldering map down here isn’t even a pencil line on the back of an envelope, the areas in-between undiscovered: stretches along the coastal fringe from Clarach to Newgale and then on round to the industrial bays of the Cleddau all waiting for someone to explore them, to tame them and bring them into the fold. So I explored when I was down there. Not too far from an established bouldering venue I found a little bit of class amongst the sandstones and shales: a wall fifty feet in length, twenty feet high at its highest point, overhanging by twenty degrees and covered by enough holds to make this find a challenge (there will be more about this venue another time). Another piece of the map had fallen into place, pushing the bouldering horizon that little bit further out for others to discover.
?
[tr][td](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c8Mm8cpAk1w/VFfcG9AYo8I/AAAAAAAACPg/qZqRzPYKZz8/s1600/doug.jpg) (http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c8Mm8cpAk1w/VFfcG9AYo8I/AAAAAAAACPg/qZqRzPYKZz8/s1600/doug.jpg)[/td][/tr][tr][td]Doug Kerr on the boulder problem Chop which exists in the space at the edge of the bouldering map[/td][/tr]
[/table]
A guide is being written at the moment that will take in some of the areas that, at present, exist in-between the known and unknown. A dedicated group of locals are out there scouring the bays for potential, but why leave the immense task of rewriting the bouldering map to the few? We are the many and the task is large. Instead of spending yet another bank holiday weekend abseiling into an overly used coastal limestone crag in South Pembrokeshire, why not quest north with a brush and a pad? It’s amazing what you can find on that wild, deserted North Pembrokeshire / Ceridigion coastline. Be a map-maker - be creative and anchor your own personal geography to a little piece of coastline that will inspire others.
Source: Skinny Dog's Esoteric Bouldering Guide. (http://skinnydogbouldering.blogspot.com/)