As in a winter that is any use to us. Us being climbers. So far its been no use to anyone, last year it was good for kids building snowmen and good business for sledge sellers. At last we have those cold clear crisp days where you remember what the gritsone was invented for. More used to warmer days it feels like cheating! Jerry’s traverse easier than it’s ever felt, even the drop down traverse a path. But the big sloper slappy stuff I still can’t do, that takes a little getting used to, not translating well from indoors and limestone crimps. Hopefully there will be some time. Yesterday (Friday 3^rd Feb) was amazing, but it’s forecast snow today!

 

If you go out know that anything in the sun is perfect, if it’s not, or hasn’t been at all, it’s probably frosted up and unclimable without a brushing.

pic - dreadnaught in 1999

A certain Climbing wall cancelled me last minute leaving me out of pocket but richer in terms of time. The place to be at the moment in the Peak is The Cornice. It is completely dry, and misses any sunshine so is in great condition. Over the last month it’s been all action down the dale! I had a week free to sample the delights.

 

Kristian Clemmow is the dude down there. Responsible for much cleaning and bolting and many new routes. He has upped the overall quality of the crag! His routes have seen a load of attention. ‘Brick Top’, at 8b, is a burly monster, all good holds but far apart. This one was tough for me! Then ‘32’, a bouldery 8b+ that has seen some epic attempts and thought solid for the grade with a Font 7c+ crux! I got to within a move on-sight, which might just have been one of my best performances ever, but never mind. It went next go.

 

‘Dreadnaught’ has seen some attention. I made the first ascent of this 8c about 13 years ago and it’s still holding out for a second ascent. Apparently holds had come off, but for those interested, all the ones I used are still there, so the challenge stands!

 

Kristian can spy a good line. And the route ‘K3’ looks like it should just keep traversing leftwards where it inevitably heads on upwards, like routes generally do. So Kris set about linking between neighbouring routes to join the start of ‘K3’ to the end of ‘Powerplant’ to give ‘K5’ (K5 is higher than K3). It looked awesome. I pumped my arms to the max on the flash of this 8b, but it looked like this diagonal line should go further, in fact why not all the way? So yesterday I climbed the first moves of ‘K3’ into the last move of ‘Bored of The Lies’. A mega endurance route with a considerable amount of new climbing, this is not a link up of existing lines. ‘K2’ because it’s the highest ‘K’.  8b+ probably, maybe harder. But don’t try it on a busy day……..

 

Some mountain info

K2 is 8611 2nd
K5 is now known as Gasherbrum I (8068 11th).
K3 is addressed as Broad Peak (8047 12th)
K4 is called Gasherbrum II (8035 13th).

 

 

 

Pointblanpicture - ian parnell

 

Sheffield + Kids + Job + broken house + Trad is a bad equation, especially if the grit doesn’t really do it for you. Replace ‘Trad’ with ‘Sport’ and it just about works out if you’re keen. But the trad beckons, and after a weekend in The Lakes I was as keen as ever! So a family trip to Pembroke, with much beach action and chilled camping, was always going to be a bit of a battle of logistics to squeeze in a few routes. Ian Parnel was also there armed with two youngsters and even more difficulty earning brownie points, but we managed a couple of early starts, which for him were probably pretty late (6.30am). Unfortunately Ian wasn’t armed with a rope so morning one was Stennis/Elmeria connection on my single. Morning two and we’d blagged more ropes, but still found ourselves in the bottom of Stennis Ford with just my rope since the other lay forgotten at the top of the cliff!

 

Two fluffy ends of a sport rope would do, my route impossible on one line. I’d run out of rope for sure but we could sort that later somehow. ‘Pointblank’ was the route I’d wanted to do in Pembroke more than any other for some time, today was not ideal, hot, sunny, still, and no chalk to mark the way, but I wasn’t gonna be here any time soon, and saving things for later is something you don’t do when you hit 40! Not because you are old (but you are) but because life has a habit of just getting too busy!

 

Pointblank begins up ‘From A Distance’, a tough E6, 7c in French money with a few pegs and threads to help the head along with the wires and cams. I was surprised how hard it was, but then what did I expect, since when is 7c easy! At the junction I was pumped and the shake out not fantastic, the easy finish was very tempting, a guaranteed tic now of a classic line. But what was very clear was that I could never come back for an onsight of Pointblanc if I did that. The start E6 is too hard. Zipping up this with all the knowledge, i.e. a redpoint, would leave me in a totally different state, and make Pointblank a different challenge altogether! So it was now or never.

 

Good holds take you off sideways, comforting the mind until a series of surprise bad holds that look good suddenly have you committed and struggling with the gear. It’s obviously the last for a long way, so it has to be good! Easy to place if you are tall, desperate if you aren’t! Moving away I inspected my blind placement efforts, reasonable, probably ok, but even if it pulled my gear way out right would just about keep me off the floor 100ft away. So, into sport mode. It had to be; a desperate sequence on sidepulls had me inching upwards, searching the rock for anything it had to offer, the movement so technical it left no space for fear. Maybe this is the ultimate style of climbing. At last holds came, getting better at a similar rate to my increasing pump, the ropes hanging in alarming arcs off into space. But it was done, a proper adventure. Now I could chill, off to the beach: never has building sandcastles felt so satisfying!

 

 

When is a job not a job? Keith Sharples needed photos for his calendar and, with Petzl sponsoring a page (or month) I was requested to hang around and attempt to look good. That’s the skill of the photographer, but I did my hair and ironed my boxers before we drove over to The Lakes for a quick hit with 5.10 hero Mark Buzby.

 

Keith’s style is pretty chilled, a kind of ‘you climb what you want and I’ll take some shots’ type approach. There is no posing or going back for that great body shape, but it feels genuine, it’s just going climbing. But of course Keith is hoping for a good angle and hopefully a good route, and somehow we ended up at Raven Crag in Langdale where he’d already done the research and noted that ‘Dawes Rides The Shovel Head’ might look nice! Being a tad unnerved at setting off up an E8 onsight I made my way up Trilogy, an amazing E5 in the hope that maybe he’d get that awesome shot straight off. But the good thing about these calendar shots is that, each year, and thanks to Keith, he’s put me in the right place, maybe slightly out of the comfort zone, but at the bottom of a challenge that maybe I wouldn’t normally have accepted. Rhapsody (E11), Ghost Train (E6), XXXXXX (E7), Mission Impossible (E9)(that I fell off onsight) were all things I fancied trying, but never seemed to quite manage.

 

So ‘Dawes’ towered above me, some chalk to point the way, and a few pegs to convince me I was on a sport route that I didn’t look at too closely. 7c is apparently the grade of this E8, though I managed to hit the zone and arrive at the top with no idea of difficulty. But buzzing though! Trepidation replaced with enthusiasm. A venue change was the plan, but as I rapped down Keith’s rope I spotted a vague line, with a few pegs here and there. There looked to be a few holds, so a change of plan. I set off with no idea if it had been climbed, and for quite a few moments wished I’d looked properly from the rope rather than zipping down. A skin of the teeth job, but a real adventure. Some days later the line was revealed, ‘Euology Direct’, Dave Birkett (no surprise), E8 6c (8a/+). Two E8’s, but I’ll let you guess which one is harder, or if they are even the same grade!

 

 

 

The first time I set eyes on Kjerag I knew I wanted to climb it. Perhaps the world’s most famous BASE jumping cliff, this 1000m vertical wall rising straight out from the sea was just asking to be climbed. In most cases dreams like this remain dreams, with logistics, finances and life in general standing firmly in the way, but this time I had my hand held. The Norwegians are such a friendly bunch, and on-it with their organising. As soon as I said I was keen all I had to do was find a window.

 

This was a ‘non objective’ trip, the way I like them. One of the problems of being a ‘known’ climber is that everyone assumes you have an objective, something new and hard, something that hits the headlines every time you pull on. This trip was just about climbing. We just wanted to be way up there, inching up the wall soaking the exposure. There are things to be done that would be big news, but that stuff could tempt us later.

 

But the forecast was bad, a whole internet page of black clouds and blue rain drops spreading out for the rest of our trip. Only the first two days had a glint of yellow, there would be no time for hauling, and no chance of waiting it out on a ledge unless we delayed our flights by several months. We drove straight to Lysebotn, the village at the head of the fjord, pitched tents and then got the boat straight to the base of the wall for 6pm. You can’t walk in, so the plan was to bivi, and then leg it for a one day push, fast and light, totally committed! The route ‘HokaHey’ is the classic, E5 and 20 pitches, it seemed the right challenge. Time was on our hands, for now, relaxing in the warm evening light and then sleeping out under the stars with that little bit of excitement knowing that tomorrow would be a different kind of day.

 

4.30am, no need for alarms. This is Norway, the suns been up for ages! There is something special about having done a load of stuff before everyone even opens their curtains. By midday we were 10 pitches and 600m up and all was good. But Charlie’s i-phone was spreading fear with some blue stuff apparently coming in, but we didn’t really need any technology to see the wall of water moving gradually toward us. There was a sense of urgency as myself and Neil swapped leads knowing that getting down would be no fun at all, but getting up would probably be impossible. Amazingly the wall stopped, it pissed it down less than half a mile away but somehow we were spared. So with the stress over I thought I’d add more, an E4 pitch was soaking so I headed off up some A2+ variation that looked doable. Forty five meters up and the exposure was forcing itself upon me, suddenly evident as I stepped way out of the comfort zone. Wet holds and snappy flakes and hard moves. Some good gear lay maybe just 5 or 6 meters below but it looked far away, far beyond the poor cam I’d just stuffed into a flaring undercut. Moving on I was impressed by my desire to push into this totally unessential challenge that I’d set. But the holds ahead were thinning out and running wet, all of a sudden this was a bad plan, this was not on the agenda and I back peddled with an agonising pump to very tentatively fall/sit on the cam preparing for the inevitable. It held, and an ‘impossible to place on lead’ bommer wire, which will live there forever, took me down and back on route where I should never have strayed.

 

We hit the top at 10pm, knackered, but not in the red yet. The tent was far away but darkness wasn’t, made more imminent with a cold mist blanketing the summit. We hit a fast march, more of a run, sticking loosely to directions. But what seemed clear on the ground was now far from adequate, and we had a sinking feeling that we were winging it, trying to make landmarks that loomed out of the mist fit the descriptions we had memorised. An hour later it was obvious, we strayed way off. The lunar landscape could give us nothing and with darkness pressing down we knew we’d blown it. We had to stop and sit it out, with no sense of direction whatsoever and absolutely no idea where we were, going anywhere was just pointless. But with no food and not really enough clothes for the biting wind neither of us took the plunge to sit and instead marched on, until by total fluke, after 90 mins of almost running we at last realised we were back where we started! Never has such a screw up been more pleasing! A text from Charlie, now happily scoffing back at camp, gave us more directions. This time we inched on, back tracking as soon as we lost the way. Torches only showed how thick the mist really was but a warm bed was possible and marginally worth the effort. At last we crawled in at 3am. A good day.

 

By 6.30am the sun scorched us out of the tent. It would have been good to have awoken on a ledge with the vista below. But already the clouds were bubbling and we opted for a sport cliff, steep and weatherproof. Right on queue the rains came in. The wall was finished. We’d been lucky, 40 days of rain had preceded our trip, and since then it’s rained every day. Our ascents might be the only ones of the year. But on the bright side, there is certainly something to come back for.

 

Or the God Of all Traverses? I’m not the fittest of climbers, but it’s not often that I turn up at a cliff and only manage one route before crawling off exhausted! But the mega traverse at Craig-y-Longridge is way longer than the average route!

Craig-y-Longridge is one of those places that as a climber you just have to visit. Maybe not the most amazing cliff, but it’s got history and a share of fame. It was almost lost recently before the good old BMC bought it for us! I was on a Beal ropes training day near the Lakes recently and with an early finish I had a spur of the moment swerve off the M6 and went off on a hunt with some scribbled directions on a scrap of paper. But it was easy to find. I’d wondered if the traverse would be easy to find too, but actually it was totally obvious; start at left, finish at right.  Use whatever, don’t fall off for over 100m! A timely phone call from Keith Sharples confirmed that the blank section in the middle was passed via a good break, but high off the deck at about 4 metres!

Trying to do this first go was the plan. With holds absolutely everywhere I figured trying to work it all out before hand would require more memory than I had available, not to mention energy and time. An onsight go, but a flash really as the holds are easily visible. So I bouldered around near the start in my trainers and walked up and down the traverse between warm-ups to see if there were any obvious rests before pulling on my boots for the first and only time and setting off.

Wow- what a monster! Within just minutes I was pumped, on the bit that looked easy, and the rest I’d spotted from the ground actually wasn’t that restful, and the next one was about 60m away! This needed respect and I dropped into conservation mode working any chill spots to the max with heel hooks and toe hangs and sprinting each hard section. The high up bit began OK with spans between slots until they ran out and then a committing hard section with my single boulder pad looking very lonely about 60m further back along the crag! With forearms almost exploding I made it to the only decent rest in a vague corner before the final hard section of a mere 20m!

So what to do at the end? Set of back I guess! So without rest I was away, faster now reversing the sequences, but it all felt a bit hard work, and I had to question what I was doing on the high bit as I literally fell across the traverse needing heel hooks to stay on above a back breaking fall! I got a fair way until my whole body shut down, not just pumped arms, but legs, stomach, back and all. I was off in a crumpled, panting heap. After 5 mins rest I still couldn’t even do a single move. Time to retreat, but something to come back for I guess – I hear the Ian Vickers, the master of Longridge can cruise it 3 times without a rest….

Check out the crag details on -  
http://craigylongridge.wetpaint.com/

 

 

I’ve wanted to try the Quarryman for years, but it’s not something to casually walk up to. For a start there needs to be a willing partner, someone with the same desire. And the weather needs to be right; slate is instantly wet with a drop of rain and good edges become useless in the sun.  Six days in Llanberis with 5.10 athlete Neil Mawson on the Marmot Rock Trip this was my chance.

The weather was all over the place, with torrential rain breaking to unbroken sun within hours! A weather window dawned sunny so we had a slow start. Our main mistake was totally underestimating the first pitch. Both of us for some reason just thought it would be a warm up! My flash go was rubbish, and continuing up placing RP’s with long run-outs took ages, especially with that ‘first go’ fire totally extinguished! We had both abbed into the bottom of the route at 1pm, and we were both still there, with no pitch ticked, at 4.30pm!

The Quarryman is really all about the famous groove pitch. An incredible natural feature; huge in both stature and status. Intimidating as hell! Entering the groove is the easy bit, but requires faith in poor footholds and contortionist moves. Then it all starts, or ends! The holds certainly end. Slate is famously smooth but the side walls of this groove seem to have been buffed to a sheen. Upward progress is the same as on a diff chimney, but somewhat harder! It’s all pushing, all of it. Within seconds the whole body is sweating and breathing sounds like you’ve sprinted the 200m. Then some holds come, all kind of in the wrong place, and actually barely any really, but at least it’s a chance to pull! Footholds are minute, match edges would be welcome! We were both wearing ‘The Whites’, and this gave us the edge, the perfect shoe for slate.

A lead looked very unlikely but I went for it and somehow made it past all the pushing expending all my energy in about 3 minutes. Breathing hard before the last hard move I realised I had no sequence, I seemed to be sliding down more than going up. Then an unlikely sequence started to come together, all bridging, smearing and palming right on the limit of friction. The finish hold was in reach. But the rule of slate is never over-stretch, keep it together. I over-stretched and my body collapsed out of the groove as contact from every limb disappeared.

Neil had a thorough go too, breaking triceps and legs, but we were out of time, darkness requiring a rapid jug up the abseil rope. Thank God it was there!

Weather totally stopped play for a few days, but first chance we had we were back. We set off amongst showers at a more considered time, and were quickly up the first 2 pitches. The groove pitch looked just as desperate as it had before. I went straight for it, and expended an entire fried breakfast before getting my feet too high and actually pushing myself downwards! I flopped off. Anyway, I needed to know what to do at the top of this pitch, because if I ever made it through the start again I definitely didn’t want to fluff the top! Next go was just as desperate, but somehow the belay appeared. I don’t think it ever gets easy! I’ve climbed 8c in shorter time and with less effort!

Neil needed a bunch of goes, the initial moves harder for him being taller. But eventually he nailed it but would have probably needed a few breakfasts for the amount of effort! I appreciated the rest! And the last pitch, famously desperate, UK 7a and described as ‘your mates big lead’, was almost a disappointment as I flashed it first go, making up a sequence on the spot. But that took nothing away from the elation. This is more than a route. I’d become a quarryman!

All that was left was for Neil to bang it out too. But crimping and stretching on the wafer holds to within inches of glory he was stopped by a flapper. A very definite end for sure! I owe him a belay. On a route like that there is no worries about going back!

 

Photo courtesy of Tim Glasby

All My Eggs In One Basket

 

Happy Easter. This might be a time of the year that you celebrate, or a weekend the same as any other. For me there is little difference, in fact a period to avoid being away with the crowds. But I notice it by the amount of chocolate eggs that seem to come my way, not that I’m complaining! This year was a very happy Easter for many as the sun shone. Just a few years ago it was snowing at Easter! The sun is great, but not for hard climbing.

 

It seems traditionally I seem to end up at Malham Cove at Easter, a few day visits over the holiday period. I can remember battling with the cold and wet, and also sitting out the whole day waiting for an attempt on Overshadow as the cliff baked in the sun. Frustrating! This year I didn’t even go, way too hot for sure, but I’ve been there a few times recently.

 

Actually I’ve not posted much on the old blog for a while. There is little to say. I watch as others tick headline routes in Pembroke or Spain but for the time being I seem to have thrown all my eggs into one basket. I’m on a new line at Malham, something I began last year but was kicked off through an early summer arrival and a busted finger. I’m back again. But its gonna be desperate. It’s a variation on Rainshadow, climbing the classic 8a Raindogs, then the crux bulge of Rainshadow to where it goes left and eases off. This new line blasts straight up, and it definitely doesn’t ease off, in fact it gets harder. After three days last year I still couldn’t do some of the moves on the new section of climbing. These moves were a long way up, after absolutely no rest where fatigue will be maxed out. I’ve done 8c+ in less time than this!

 

But this is good news, it looks like a solid relationship, not a quick fling, over in a flash, unmemorable and without meaning. The forth day this year was a good one, with a link from the ground to within 10 hand movements before I join Bat Route (8c), though from there its still 8a to the top with no rest. But that’s not close really. From the top of Raindogs its about 30 moves where its barely possible to chalk up, never mind clip. I’m gonna have to skip 4 quickdraws out of 6 and face some serious air time! So 10 moves out of 30 is actually quite far away. But it’s become a reality now, though helped by fantastic conditions before the heat set in.

 

For now I just need to wait, this is England so it won’t stay hot for too long. But I best get involved with those eggs before they melt, it’s good energy food right???

Come down to Red point climbing centre in Birmingham, where Steve McClure will be on hand to help you try out some of the latest models from Five Ten.

For more information contact RedPoint HERE

Five Ten Athletes Ned Feehally and Steve McClure try out the new Hornet and Arrowhead models at Burbage West.

The day started off with ferocious winds and rain showers, but slowly the sun burnt through and gave us a great few hours of light.
Both models featured are new for 2011 and are in stores now!

In the first of these mini proudct showcases, you´ll hopefully get an insight into some of our athletes and new products as the season continues.