All change

Not done much for a couple of weeks now following my so close but, yet again, so far away session on The Armoured Car Traverse. If it's not work getting in the way, it is social stuff or the weather putting the brake on stuff - last week we had damp, dreary conditions and they are much the same this time around albeit a bit more frozen.

Anyway it was supposed to have been the rearranged Boys Bouldering Trip this weekend but the white stuff put paid to any thoughts of heading north for my maiden trip to The County so the new plan was to go to Burbage to meet up with the boys instead. It was a pleasant enough day there - Baltic conditions reigned and a lot of stuff was either wet or covered in snow but the odd problem remained in OK nick which was more than could be said for me. I think hungover would be the word I am looking for. After watching various automotive punters making a complete mess of trying to get up the hill past Burbage Bridge we met up at Banana Finger. I have known about this problem for years but Saturday was was the first time I had ever looked at the problem let alone pulled on. Having got the greetings out of the way I squeaked the boots and after a couple of abortive attempts to size up the hangover versus physical effort problems found I could make the reach over to the first break with the pebble easily enough but was really struggling to get my feet in a position to match it. A few more goes came and went and then the SYKE was gone - it was just too cold, I was too hungover and just plain weak and so I have another project at Burbage to contend with.

Wandered about for a while and did a bit of spotting and the like and decided to risk a wander down to the Armoured Car on the off chance that it was good to go - of course it wasn't but we cleaned the holds off and Dear Boy had a couple of attempts at it but the remaining snow was just melting as soon as you touched it.

By this point it had got to late afternoon so we decided that we had done enough for the day and went to the pub to try and subjugate our collective hangovers. Can't speak for anyone else but it failed miserably on my account...

Pity the fool

It might well be for charity and all that but some things just shouldn't be encouraged...

Rewind Selector

Managed to get out last Friday for a quick session at Burbage South and another attempt at the Armoured Car Traverse - conditions were cool and very breezy but thankfully warmer than the flat I had retreated from - go figure!!

Started on what seem to have become the new warm up problems on the Brick boulder - conditions on anything that had been in the wind were pretty damned good but stuff that had been sheltered was not so good. They weren't bad as such - just not as good. Other than that it seemed like business as usual - problems got done and feeling ready for the task ahead it was a quick stomp through the bracken to the Armoured Car.

First go went OK until I cocked up the crux sequence but second go I matched my previous best and got the crimp for the right hand which was great for all of a brief nano-second till I realised that the crimp was a greasy slimefest. Back on the mat! Still it was encouraging as conditions had been nowhere near as good as the last time I had been out - then you could use the top of the boulder pretty much as you pleased - now it turned into a desperate search for those subtle slopers to try and attain success. So following a quick brush of the greasy crimp it was back to it again but it soon became obvious that this was a race against conditions as the odd spot of rain fell and the temperature steadily rose. Managed to get back to the crimp once more but greased off again and then the race was effectively over as the rain started to fall with more persistence. I huddled in the shelter of the traverse and rolled a cigarette while looking at the clouds trying to convince myself that the ones headed in my direction were not as full of rain as they obviously were. That worked for maybe five minutes but even the most sanguine person struggles in the face of a good soaking and with that it was decided to get back to the van before the rain set in properly.

Do I need to add that I was rather damp by the time I got back? Probably not...

It's all a bit meh!

Backtrack two days and Skippy was keen to do some stuff on a bit of string at The Edge. I say keen but the truth of the matter was he simply mentioned it and then let my over excitable brain provide the necessary SYKE to do the rest really. Anyway enough about my random psychology and onto tales of power and pulling hard on big lumps of brightly coloured plastic. What-ho!

It has been ages since I have climbed indoors and while it was OK in a pulling hard on big lumps of brightly coloured plastic sort of way there is also something just a little bit masochistic about it all as well. You are crammed into an area that is too small and which contains too many people whose primary aims would appear to be getting in the way and occasionally climbing. Add to that, when you are climbing, there is often little in the way of route finding to do - all too often it is just a matter of briefly studying the next bright piece of plastic and then making the move, clip and repeat. Oh and it's too bloody hot and while this is offset to a degree by the eye candy it really doesn't outweigh the negatives. Jeez, I seem to have become a grumpy old man overnight - maybe I should get one of these bad boys!


Anyway enough grizzling - routes wise I didn't exactly push the boat out but I felt that I climbed OK - my clipping was a bit woeful but other than that I felt smooth and no real wobbles to speak of so that was pleasing. Also it seems like the required stamina is there or thereabouts again though the real test will come with progression onto a few harder routes which will highlight any weaknesses a bit more. As it was I ticked off something like a 5 to warm up (on top rope) and then did a 5, 5+, 5+ and a 6a+ all clean on lead. The 6a+ was a pretty good route actually as it had a series of tufas to negotiate and made you really work your feet and while I wouldn't have argued with 6a for it I quite happily took (soft) 6a+ for the quick ego boost.

Ego sufficiently boosted I then got on another 6a+ which proved to be a little bit more tricky - this one proved interest by the bucket load as it featured the arête and holds on both sides - really technical and a complete bitch of a crux that I failed to negotiate. I hung in for a while trying to figure out a workable sequence to get past the hard section but nothing really seemed to work so, in lieu of that, I debated about throwing a lot of power at it. That seemed even less likely to work so with the pump in my arms building rapidly, I slumped onto the rope reasoning I would much rather have some sort of crux sequence where falling off was less of a likelihood - gaylord! Eventually I cobbled something together that got me through it but I feel pretty sure that I am missing something as it felt all wrong compared to the rest of the route - something to go back to next Wednesday then. Finished off with a 5 on the 18 degree board and that was the end of that - the SYKE had been extinguished.

Popped into the Sheaf on the way back for a well deserved pint of carbs in a glass and found lots of Police milling about looking at this. Oops!

Think of a name, any name...

Probably best to make sure that it doesn't have a second meaning though...

Back in the game

After two rather intense sessions of physio featuring chiropractic treatment, deep tissue massage and acupuncture the shoulder and ab problems have, thankfully, subsided for now. Same problem as before apparently - left shoulder muscles seizing up so now I have a regime of press-ups on non-climbing days to try and stop it happening for a third time. Oh joy but at least it doesn't cost money to do the regime.

In between the two sessions of physio I had a good day at Curbar with the Dear Boy, Skippy and his mate Pete or as he is known from now on 1k Excuses. Usual stuff really – did the slab problems below Gorilla Warfare and then onto the three main lines on the Prow. Considering the fact that I had only done the centre line a couple of weeks before, it was a bit worrying when it shut me down and while it did get done eventually, I would be hard-pressed to say I did it in style.

From there it was down to Trackside – Three Pocket problem went first time which I was pleased about because it's one of those problems I can either do or fail repeatedly on for reasons that are beyond me to explain. Perhaps it was a sign that the mantle problem had cleaned up considerably and was no longer the slimy grease-fest it had been a couple of weeks before and would therefore go first time. If so then it was a very accurate sign indeed.

Next up was the old favourite – Strawberries. Pulled on and rocked up into the high left hand which I knew as soon as I hit it wasn't quite right but decided that it would go regardless. Pulled hard and everything was looking quite good till about halfway through the move when the sidepull and my left hand violently decided to go their own separate ways with the outcome being a lot of skin loss and copious amounts of blood everywhere! I might well have sworn a bit at this point but I can't remember – probably fair to assume that I did though...

Once I had stopped bleeding profusely I then nailed Strawberries not once but twice, partly to prove a point but also because it felt bloody hard, though taking into account the pull is with the shoulder I had been having treatment on it shouldn't have been such a surprise really. It certainly wasn't the usual push over at Font 4+ that day I can tell thee.

Lastly I made progress on Crack 'n' Pockets to the point where I could get stood up in the break but finding the point of balance to go for the pockets wasn't really happening, possibly due to earlier blood loss but more likely because of finishing work at 7AM that morning. The right heel round the corner seems to work so I will assume it is right for now but I have a nagging feeling that when I do get it right I am going to come up a couple of inches short of the pockets or just end up horribly stretched out if I can reach them. Still it's a problem that seems to suit me so I will be back for another go soon.

The call has gone out.

Monday found me at Cratcliffe and conditions should have been good in theory - it was cold and the temperature was low but the grit was just not playing ball. The reality of the situation was a bit of a horror show for friction, something I initially put it down to having an off day but it was later confirmed by FatBoySlimFast on UKB that it was the same everywhere. Given that I went there to try the arête on the Egg Boulder - friction based climbing at its best - this was not good news and after an encounter with someone who could well have been closely related to the Dawes judging by the randomness of the conversation we had, I sacked it off.

Fast forward two days and the situation changed completely - if pROJECT mAYHEM had such a thing as a grit light it would have been shining like a huge techno-playing lighthouse to warn people that the grit had been called. Even better I could get out there to see this momentous first day in and I was armed with a big tick list on a day that the friction was so good that it felt like I was cheating.

Days such as these need a plan and so, with Adam Beyer testing the speakers, it was off to Burbage to warm up and then onwards to Mother Cap for a session on Conan the Librarian. After a couple of duff starts on the Brick I sent most of the problems there first time and from there it was onto the Briquette to try Huggy - a problem that I have a history with that needs laying to rest. Gave it a quick brush, pulled on and promptly tweaking an ab injury that has been annoying me off and on for a while in the process.

Deciding to leave that well alone instead of aggravating things further I went to try the Armoured Car Traverse and after a couple of attempts managed to get back to my previous best - the drop onto the sidepull for the left hand - and from there managed to get the crimp for the right. A new best was attained but my excitement was quickly tempered by the realisation that I may have two decent holds for the hands but my feet were planted and not going anywhere so I dropped off and thought about the sequence into the handholds some more. After contemplating about it for a while I managed to refine the sequence so that I wasn't so stretched going to the handholds and tried again without much success - I was rushing to get back to the new baseline but the end result was not getting there at all. The moves were also playing havoc with my other niggling injury in my left shoulder but with the conditions being so good I just kept stretching it out and hoping that things didn't get any worse. Another couple of attempts and I was feeling a lot smoother going into the sidepull so it was time for the big push - it was going to go. Armed with the syke of knowing that a long term project is close, I traversed across and dropped into the sidepull, concentrated on the crimp to a whole new level and once happy with it, started to rock across. My shoulder protested some more about this but I ignored it and instead, spurred on by the knowledge that this was now my last attempt off the day, I got the good hold for the right, matched my feet and planted the right foot across ready to go for the huge holds and glory. Well that was the plan - my shoulder had other ideas about things though and its protests were no longer going to be ignored and so, with another quick twinge from my ab for good measure, I was back on the mat. The final whistle had been blown on the day - there was no extra time to be played in this match - it was simply over, finished, gone, done, out...

I just sat there with my head in my hands and railed against the injustice of it all - I had pretty much done the hard moves, it was almost a path from where I came off, conditions were perfect and my useless lump of a body had given up under the effort. Even now, 24 hours later, I'm still not sure whether I am more pissed off about the fact that I dropped the relatively easy finishing moves, that I now have not one but two injuries which need attention or that I let good conditions and syke get the better of my common sense. Gutted!

Only mad dogs and Englishmen...

...go climbing at Birchens of a Sunday - it was bloody rammed to say the least.

Decided to warm up on Porthole Arête for starters which was, according to the Rockfax guide, VS 4c. It was all going reasonably well taking into consideration the generally rounded nature of the holds till I got to the top where a very tenuous move from a decent jam and a really sketchy step up on an even more sketchy foothold provoked much thought. Protection was a thrown in nut that looked good from what I could see but in all honesty I had no way of being 100% sure of so I was having a bit of a crisis of faith with that but at least the cam placed underneath the slab was good. Eventually committed to what I was telling myself was only a 4c move but in reality felt a lot closer to a pretty serious and off balance 5a - reached up for the break which I had assumed was good - it wasn't - decided that I was still going for it and pulled through, smeared on the arête and with a final couple of moves it was over. Not the warm up I had assumed I was going to get to say the least and so I silently cursed Rockfax for some pretty crap grading skills. As it was when I got back to chez Butters I checked the new BMC guide expecting to see that it was high in the grade, dodgy moves and generally expecting heroic things to be said of those who dare to lead it. Therefore, it was with a little bit more than a modicum of disappointment that I found the route graded HS 4c - which in all honesty it probably is if you don't go off line. Still, route finding skills aside, I was pretty pleased with backing myself to be good enough to do the move (eventually) and committing to it.

From there we went to the other end of the crag to see if we could get away from the two Student Uni. groups that were there, something we managed to do but only at the expense of finding ourselves next to some sort of climbers crèche - in essence a hellish mix of climbers, parents and screaming\crying\miserable kids. Somehow shutting out this unholy din, Skippy was eyeing up on a couple of lines on Trafalgar Wall, both of which I told him, were pointless taking any gear for as all the higher placements were marginal at best having looked at them before when soloing. Ignoring this he went and found out for himself that they were as bad, if not worse, than I had told him they were while I belayed to the sound of Frank or Freddie bawling away incessantly. In an effort to shut out the noise I silently pondered whether it would be murder or manslaughter that I would be more likely to be charged with given what I thought was reasonable provocation and whether le grand ventre would be any use should it come to needing legal representation.

In the end it didn't come to such extreme lengths and so it was back to the other end of the crag again which was thankfully getting a bit quieter as the day progressed where I led Emma Royd - a route that is about as good as the pun it so painfully aspires to. The start is OK and the middle section isn't too bad either but it really loses it towards the top - low in the grade but on the plus side my gear selection skills had improved markedly - I was on the money with regard to nut sizes as many times as not so pleased about that anyway.

Finally Topsail - I drew the short straw and seconded it but even leading it I think the levels of disappointment wouldn't have changed much - it is a one trick pony route and while that move is really good it also has to be balanced against the horribly polished nature of the route that precedes it. Add in the state of the cam slot that I had heard so much about but which was even worse to look at in reality and the sense of disenchantment was complete. A pity really as I had heard a few good things about the route but at least I spied a couple of decent looking lines that I haven't done yet so there is scope for probably one more visit - just not at a weekend.

The Enormous White Whale of Doom

According to extremely-inaccurate-weather.com the forecast for week ahead is going to feature the word sunny in profusion combined with cooler temperatures. Normally The Met Office would disagree with this and predict the polar opposite but in a rare show of solidarity it is agreeing so the plan for the next 5 days, starting tomorrow, is grit.

Sunday is the only day planned out so far - a day spent worshipping the tyranny of faff with Skippy at either Birchens or Stanage Plantation. It has to be said that neither are venues that I would choose for a weekend visit but I am actually a little bit excited by the possibility of Birchens as it offers the chance to tick a load of easy stuff soloing and I might finally get to do Topsail. Strange how the mind works sometimes isn't it...

The rest of the week will be bouldering so it is just a matter of choosing venues really though a couple of things spring to mind - Mother Cap is an obvious choice since Conan the Librarian is on the tick list of things to do and Curbar for the UGE and Crack 'n' Pockets. A trip down to Cratcliffe is also a strong possibility so that's three days gone already and then it is down how much inspiration and skin are available. I have a feeling that inspiration will outlast the skin by a country mile.

Thursday it is back to night shifts and on Friday the Dear Boy arrives in The Enormous White Whale of Doom to rig up a decent sound system in it. Quite how he has survived numerous journeys back and forth from Italy having to listen to music on stock Merc speakers is beyond me as I would have been forced to take some form of corrective surgery a long time ago. Regardless this is obviously something else to get syked about - a few days playing with amps and speakers, running cables and tweaking is never time wasted.

Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Levels of SYKE are at a new high - the old benchmarks for levels of SYKE have been discarded as irrelevant, tawdry things after hearing the news that Godspeed You! Black Emperor are touring again. At last I get a chance to see them again following what has been probably 8 years of them going off and going their own thing.

GY!BE are almost certainly my favourite band - certainly top two anyway - and while others come and go they are a constant and have been since I first stumbled across a review for "Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennae To Heaven" and promptly went out and bought it as it sounded pretty interesting. Picking stuff up on the strength of a review is always a lottery as there are so many variables and this was before the age of broadband and Napster was in it's infancy so the option of doing a bit of research wasn't really viable - it was simply try it and see what happens. Boy was it interesting - it was unlike anything else I had heard at the time which was mainly stuff like My Bloody Valentine, The Fall, Pixies and other stuff of that era. To be honest the first listen to that CD was a pretty seminal moment for me and it brings to mind a reply that Nibile made on UKB when he managed to hang the 45's on his beastraper :

"in every man's life there are historical moments of absolute value. the first time you je** off, the first time you get into a fight, the first time you make love"

That kind of sums up how I felt - something changed a little with that first listen and with each GY!BE album bought after that it changed a little more but I suppose it is always that first album I come back to most often just because of that moment.

Bring on the 7th of December so that I can see my beloved Godspeed again - it's been too long.

Shoulder Update

Not great - certainly not going to be attempting Conan the Librarian today that much is for sure. At least it doesn't feel too badly injured - just feels whack in the joint so I suspect that I over stretched something yesterday by pulling too hard on big holds. The good news (such as it is) is that I am back on day shifts tomorrow so it will provide four days of enforced rest.

The tyranny of faff

Back on a piece of string today at Stanage Popular End with Skippy - unseasonably sunny weather for October it has to be said but not hot enough to be sweating off holds - all in all a quite enjoyable day at the crag if the truth be told.

The days tick list:

• Black Hawk Hell Crack - second.
• Manchester Buttress - lead.
• Gargoyle Buttress - second.
• Heather Wall - lead.

Admittedly nothing really hard there and I had done the first three routes before but it wasn't really a day for pushing hard - more a refresher course in the tyranny of faff. Must say that Manchester Buttress was greatly improved by continuing up to the top rather than throwing together a belay on the big ledge after the traverse back round to the right. Doesn't add any hard moves to the route in all honesty but just makes it feel that little bit less of a cop out which was how it felt when I first did it a few years back now.

Heather Wall was a new one for me though and I came very close to blowing the onsight on the opening moves - got established on decent handholds and the sloping foothold and then the foot blew. Thank god for decent hand holds as I just locked the left and held it before throwing in a cam and making a few moves, throwing in another cam which was pretty rubbish and finally a decent nut and then calmed down. From there it was all good really - nice moves from break to break and gear where you needed it and the added bonus of knowing that I can still onsight VS occasionally.

The good things about the day (apart from the onsight) were that I seem to be moving well on the rock at the minute and I am probably not quite as far off route fitness as I thought I was. Even after the moment on Heather Wall I still found it fairly straight forward from a fitness point of view and while it can be argued that the moves are only 4c tops and most of the breaks provide a decent rest if you work a bit it is still a lot bigger than I have been used to climbing recently.

On the flip side - my gear selection is way off after the best part of two years not working those skills on a regular basis and while it was improving marginally as the day progressed there is still a lot to do on that front. I also seem to have tweaked my left shoulder early on and the Heather Wall incident didn't improve matters which is not good as I was toying with the idea of a session on Conan the Librarian tomorrow.

Will just have to see how it is in the morning and go from there.

Operation Butters Home Made Chilli Powder is go!

I have blogged about my life's culinary mission, to cook the perfect Chilli con Carne, before here and mentioned Operation Butters Home Made Chilli Powder here. With regard to OBHMCP ordering lots of different chillies from the Cool Chile Company was as far I had got - they were left sat in a box till motivation caught up with my ambition which it finally did today. The long wait is over - Operation Butters Home Made Chilli Powder became a reality at long last.

The onset of the mission coincided with the arrival of not one, not two, but three Stevie Wonder albums that I had got off the Bay of Fleas for next to nothing and so Innervisions was thrown on and off we went. Using this recipe as the basis, adapting it with a bit of input from this recipe for chilli powder I found ages ago and throwing in a bit of my own taste (or lack thereof) the oven was fired up and the chillies set to toast.


Above are a mix of Ancho's, New Mexico, de Arbol and Smoked Chipotle chillies with a stick of Cinnamon thrown in for good measure. Simple enough - put in an oven and toast till they are dry and slightly crispy as apparently good dried chillies should still have slight moisture in them. Every day is a school day it would seem.

While that was being done it was time to toast some Cumin seeds in the wok - it has to be said that the Wok in the picture is one awesome piece of kit. I bought it years ago from one of the Chinese shops on London Road for the princely sum of £8 if I remember correctly and it has been a faithful servant ever since, standing up to whatever random cooking abuse I subject it to on a regular basis without complaint.

Enough about the wok though - time for another Stevie Wonder CD, Hotter than July this time which is somewhat appropriate now that I think about it.

Once the cumin seeds, cinnamon and chillies had been toasted it was time to throw them all into the blender, add some Hot Smoked Paprika, Garlic Powder and Mexican Oregano and blitz till it was reduced to a powder with the final result looking like this.

It smells awesome so tomorrow I am off to buy some decent mince and cook up a Chilli con Carne with it - slightly worried that I have no idea what ratio to use it in so I am going to take a stab in the dark and go for 1 tbsp of Butter's Chilli Powder per pound of meat. Assuming that I survive the experience hopefully I will be one step closer to achieving my life's ambition...

Font - Day 5 & 6

It rained on the Thursday night in what sounded like, to judge by the noise of the rain falling on the van, biblical proportions. I laid in pROJECT mAYHEM and was feeling rather grateful that I was not in a tent with just a thin piece of canvas over my head for protection but those thoughts of gratitude were rudely dispelled at 5.40AM when le grand ventre knocked on the door to run him to the station. It was hard not to think that pROJECT mAYHEM was giving with one hand and taking with the other at the time.

Thankfully one of us had had the presence of mind the night before to make sure le grand ventre had all his stuff together necessary to catch his ridiculously early flight from the airport. Probably just as well as it was still bucketing it down and the thought of le grand ventre wandering aimlessly about while he got his shizzle together at 5.40AM would have given a saint murderous thoughts so quite what it would have done to me is not worth thinking about. Anyway we got him loaded up and drove to the camp-site exit only to find that it was locked as was the entrance as well - bugger! Le grand ventre put a brave face on it and duly walked to the station - something I tried very hard to feel guilty about while I reversed the van back the 200 yards it had come and went back to sleep again. I failed.

Upon rising later in the day the weather was looking slightly better - grey and still the odd shower here and there but it wasn't as bad as it had been earlier so there was the possibility of getting something done. Plans were hatched amid much laughter at le grand ventre's bad luck and it was decided to go to the big Carrefour to buy cheese, wine and the like before heading out to find dry rock.

An hour or two later the van was full of wine, random French sausage and stinky cheese and so we set off to 95.2 to have a very enjoyable lunch in the sunshine and then it promptly rained. The next couple of hours were spent driving around the forest and being pursued by rain, where ever we went the rain followed, it was as if we had an enormous rain-cloud magnet attached to the van.

Eventually we gave it up and went to have a coffee in Milly-la-Foret and followed that up with a beer to make ourselves feel better when it rained yet again. While having our consolation beer we got a tip off from Neil at Maisonbleau that there was dry rock at yet another location so it was back into the van and off we went again. You don't really need me to tell you that as soon as we got there it rained do you? Well it did.

It was at that point where we gave up - back to the camp-site to disassemble le grand ventre's tent (not only an onerous task but a rather odourful one too it has to be said) and then wish Dear Boy a bon voyage as he set off back to the sunnier climes of Italy.

Saturday was "get off the beach day" and with coffee made and camp broken the last task remaining before setting off back to the UK was drop the Broken Beagle off at a crag near Milly-la-Foret. From there the long drag home started which was a lot less eventful than the trip down thankfully, the exception being getting off the A6 but compared to the drive down it was a walk in the park.

And so, twelve odd hours after abandoning Broken Beagle, I was back Sheffield just in time to sit down on the sofa with a much needed beer in hand to watch Arsenal getting beaten on Match of the Day. A perfect combination to reflect on an awesome trip over six hectic days with close to 1200 miles of driving and ask myself if I would do it all again? Damn right I would - Font rocks and I still haven't done 6a there yet!

When can we go?

Preparation be damned

Decided that the weather was far too good and we were far too battered following Saturdays exertions to justify spending money to go climbing indoors so we met up at Burbage for a bimble on the boulders there instead.

Had a really good session - didn't do anything new but it was good to be out on the rock and feeling that I was moving well. Helped that the conditions were pretty damned good - not optimum but close would be my assessment and it certainly helped in my best attempt so far on the The Armoured Car Traverse. Still going to require a bit more work through the crux but it feels the closest it has been yet.

Today was another good day out at Curbar - I was feeling ever more battered but decided that I would go and check out the stuff behind the Gorilla Warfare block that is listed in the new Froggatt guide. Slightly disappointing with what I found to be honest - the problem on the back wall was green so that might be better with some dry conditions and a good brush. The two problems on the other face looked less than enticing though - the arête problem has a block that sticks up at the base providing a landing that looks pretty nasty and the face problem to the right has a pit underneath it. I didn't try either problem so it might be a bit of a false impression but neither one really made me feel that confident given I was out on my own.

Back to the old favourites then - did the problems on the slab below Gorilla Warfare and then walked acoss to The Prow which I got utterly spanked on a few years back and haven't been near since. My loss is all I can say - the Left Hand Arête is pleasant and easy enough, the centre line proved tricky to start and I thought that it would be all over once I had negotiated that part but the crux seems to be moving off two decent crimps for the top. On paper it should be easy but it feels really balancy and tenuous and getting the top from there first time was a good feeling - so good in fact that I eliminated the decent hold for the left hand at the start and utilised a small crimp instead. Made no difference to the overall grade that I could tell but it felt that little bit more satisfying to do it that way. Last but not least was The Prow itself and it is a magnificent problem. Good handholds all the way but you have to work to get the feet right - should really have been a flash but I cocked up pulling on so it went second go with a slight wobble reaching for the top when I realised that the mat was placed in a less than optimum position.

From there it was down to Trackside to be confronted by some of the worst chalk abuse I have seen in a long time.


The picture was taken after 2-3 minutes of brushing chalk off with about four different brushes. You could see the break all the way from The Prow - that is how much chalk the bloody idiots had smeared in the break in an effort, one can only assume, to dry it out. Whoever was responsible really needs beating to death with their chalk bag and while it might take a very long time for them to die it will be worth it after I tried the problem and my left hand blew at the top of the mantle resulting in two very skinned knuckles. Still I suppose at least I got to bleed a lot and swear a lot more - not a total waste of a day.

Following that I repeated Strawberries first time - go me - and then played about a bit on what seems to be Crack 'n' Pockets in the new guide. Have played about on it before but today it felt feasible though no progress was made as the crimp for the left hand had been sitting in the sun for a while and so was not feeling great and my skin was feeling in even worse condition. Gave it up as a bad job but it has been added to the projects list for the winter anyway as something to try along with the Ultimate Gritstone Experience.

Font - Day 4

Day four dawned and some time later - quite probably a few hours after - I half climbed, half fell out of the van feeling (in the most charitable sense possible) as rough as a dog though, in all honesty, if your dog had been as sick as I was it would have been a trip to the vets. Not being of the canine persuasion though I decided the best course of action was to self medicate with strong coffee and a banana. Welcome to being 40 years and one day old - not quite as good as being 40 years and no days old from my once in a lifetime shot at it.

Quite a few hours after that, following many exhortations from Broken Beagle, we bundled into the van and went to Roche aux Sabots where it promptly rained resulting in a bit more R&R being taken.


Eventually it dried off enough that some of the blue circuit was climbable - I flailed up the first problem and having got there laid on the top until I was sure that wasn't going to do a passable impression of Vomiting Veronica. Just to make sure I also sat out the next few problems but eventually the nauseous feeling thing subsided and it was on with the blue circuit again. Another problem got sent before it was on to one which was rather memorable just for being a bit weird in a good way - the crux was a sort of press to a slap for the top which went down about third go. The problem after was just not happening though - there must be a way to do it with a bit of style but I just couldn't figure it out and there was no power in the tank to try and beast it into submission so I played the joker on that one and walked away.

The next problem was number 10 (I think) and it was my go first. To much amazement (most of all from myself) I flashed the thing - a technical slab with a smear to a good foothold for the right foot and on to decent holds on the scaly sort of rock that I was rapidly becoming to associate with Font. If I was to say that it was probably the best problem that I did in Font on the trip it wouldn't be far off - that good!

Did one or two more problems after that and then ran into Dense and the guys he was climbing with and, to everyone's amazement, Dense was actually climbing! True to form he was finding mono's where no one else could but he was actually climbing things!

I was rapidly going downhill again so I only managed about one or two more problems after that before retiring for the day but the blue circuit is definitely a circuit that will have to be done on my return as some of the later problems looked amazing. One in particular - a very technical looking and also rather scary slab with an arête that tapered outwards the higher you progressed is certainly on my list of must do things.

Interlude

I will get around to the final 3 days of Font updates in due course but following a quick redesign of the blog layout I will follow a slightly different course for a moment or two.

Sat in the pub on Friday night with the usual gang - in summary a varied bunch of mates, some who climb, some who don't, it transpired that John Oz was looking for someone to climb with the following day. I had tentatively planned to go to Baslow on my own to try the green circuit from the new Froggatt guide but nothing ventured is nothing gained so I dropped John a quick text. Plans were made and so we met up the following day at Burbage North for a day of trad and the like.

It has to be said that me and trad have been out of fashion for the best part of two years now - this was going to be my third trad session in that time but there has been a steadily building inclination to get back into the tyranny of faff that is trad for a while now. Part of this is down to reading the ramblings of Paul B who has discovered trad again in a big way, partly from reading Fiend's blog but more so the fact that I have unfinished business in that I know I have the potential to be a far better trad climber than I am on paper. I am, as someone once described me "An E1 leader with a VS leader's brain" - harsh but true...

Paul sums up what trad is all about very succinctly in his latest post:

"It may be easy, you mightn't have to be 'that' strong or fit but in reality it tests a whole different skill set, requires different knowledge and ultimately leads to some amazing experiences."

Boy does it test a different skill set - I have always had major issues with trusting gear and falling on it which I proved to myself by attempting to lead The Chant again. Last time I did it was probably over three years ago - OK I got the onsight but it was a slightly terrifying moment to say the least with the move off the sidepull feeling super tenuous and insecure. Saturday was the same but even knowing the cam I placed in the break was bomber there was no way that I was willing to test it - I reached up to the sidepull, got scared commiting to the move and downclimbed before being unceremoniously spat off when the pump got too much. The gear held obviously...

Three major points from this episode in failure - I have no stamina for routes which leads on directly to the fact that I can not hang on in there to try a move again and succeed or retreat to a rest to rethink the strategy and last but not least even if I had the stamina to hang on in there then I have severe issues with gear and falling. Points one and two are easy to rectify - get back on routes at an easier grade or on plastic and get fit for routes, hanging in there while figuring out the options and also getting the onsight mentality back. The third point is going to be a lot harder but it is, ultimately, the crucial part of the puzzle to solve - placing gear and trusting it and being prepared to lob onto it should that prove necessary!

With all of this in mind I have set myself the task of leading HVS consistently by the end of the grit season and the proof of this is going to be leading what I will refer to as the big six at Millstone - these being (from left to right):

1. Plexity - HVS 5a
2. Dexterity - E1 5b*
3. Lyons Corner House - HVS 5a
4. Great North Road - HVS 5a
5. Bond Street - HVS 5a
6. Great Portland Street - HVS 5b

*There is the option to scuttle left at HVS but this will probably be the last on the list as an E1 attempt.

Of the above I have seconded #2 (with LH exit) & #4 and onsighted #3 & #5 before so it's not a total leap into the unknown it will provide a good test of where I am at. While I am at it I will add a couple more routes to the list as needing to be done soon - the first being The Chant (it's only VS but it's a demon that must be slain) and the other being that old nemesis of mine - Avalanche Wall at Curbar.

Preparation starts tonight with a session with John at The Edge - even with some fantastic weather today I am sacrificing getting out for an evening on the plastic. I will also be doing the green circuit at Baslow but going at it with more of an onsight mentality where possible to get used to hanging in there and committing rather than dropping off for a rethink. Other than that it is going to be as much trad as possible to get the gear placing aspect back in tune again - the less time you spend hanging about placing the right piece of gear first time the more you have to give at the sharp end when required.

It has to be said that I am feeling more than a little daunted by this challenge that I have set myself but why make life easy for yourself?

Font - Day 3

a.k.a. le grand ventre's day of sartorial elegance.

Le grand ventre decided that today was the day he would give the birthday boy (me) Broken Beagle and Dear Boy a lesson in sartorial elegance - today was to be veritable tour de force that would shock the fashion world to its very core - nothing less, nothing more. From the simple insouciance of the well-worn Ireland Rugby top to the stylistic brilliance of the Barbour, from the timeless nature of the burgundy cord's to that ultimate statement in fashion: the bright orange Rab, it is without doubt true that le grand ventre has an eye for an outfit. Today was to be no ordinary day though - today's outfit would show the French how simple style was done!

Standing perfectly shod in an immaculate pair of brown brogues with odd socks (pulled up of course) these flowed seamlessly via a pair of pasty white legs into a daring pair of blue gingham shorts. This was nothing compared to the crowning glory of this lesson in style and panache though - a svelte denim jacket (unbuttoned naturally) and no shirt. Without doubt a strong look and one that would make the world of fashion sit up, scribble countless notes on whatever was to hand and wonder just how they had never thought of this before. Unfortunately no one got a picture of the full outfit but we have obtained a picture of said outfit adapted for crag mode - note the fantastic accessory bag which is de riguer for the crag look this season.


Anyway enough about le grand ventre for now - we arrived at Bas Cuvier and tried blue 1 which felt damn near impossible as did blue 2. Then did a few of the orange problems and the world seemed a lot better. Wandered in and found Dense and a few other lads camped out under something steepish before going to look at the days objective La Marie Rose.

Having found the problem Broken Beagle sent it again first time and le grand ventre had a few attempts but was hampered by an injury to his hand but at least he gave me more than enough beta to have a decent attempt. After a couple of failed attempts I could pretty much get my foot out to the left every time but dropping into the gaston was proving almost impossible due to sweaty hands and as the day progressed it just got worse as the sun lit up more and more of the problem. Deciding that it wasn't going to happen concentration was turned instead to the blue slab to the left - once the initial start had been sorted the fun really with a couple of tenuous smears to better holds and the top. Feeling a lot better having got the problem done soon turned to dismay after I realised that getting off the problem was the mental crux of it all and after a few dismal attempts I just decided to down climb the problem I had just done which was no doubt a lot harder than the descent proper but was the only way that I was getting off the problem that day. Well at least I was not the only one to suffer as the Dear Boy showed great solidarity in also getting the fear about getting off it and there is no doubt that it provided amusement for the rest of the climbers at the crag...


Events however must shift back to le grand ventre just as surely as night follows day - having tried and failed to tape his troublesome thumb he had resorted instead to sporadically trying a problem before dropping off with a huge cry of "Ow" and shaking the injured hand vigorously. He would then proceed to telling everyone in the general vicinity that he was injured - it didn't matter what nationality they were or whether they had any great command of the English language, they would be told about le grand ventre's grave injury. The rest of the gang just wandered off and found another boulder to try...

Following a good day at Bas Cuvier (with the exception of the detritus of carnal carnage that litters the place) it was off to Font for a quick beer. Le grand ventre's outfit proved to be a huge hit with the locals and proved it's versatility transforming instantaneously from crag wear to afternoon beer wear by fastening a single button on the denim jacket - oh so chic! Some of the younger element gaped open-mouthed and fell on the floor in amazement and others just could not believe the style that was being displayed and stared at us with open disdain. How could this oaf show such style?

And so it was on to the evenings entertainment - dinner at a posh French restaurant. Thankfully le grand ventre had decided to dress down for the evening and was therefore slightly less offensive to the jealous eyes of the locals. Foie Gras pate (truly amazing food) followed by Swordfish in a delicate curry sauce washed down with a couple of decent bottles of wine and finished off with a stunning Armagnac from 1970. From there it was back to our regular watering hole - the Glasgow Bar - which is better than its name suggests and had the addded advantage of having Desperado on tap for the Broken Beagle. A few pints later and some random shot for me went down quickly and then the wobble back to the camp site followed by possibly more beer and an undignified crash into bed. Great food, great company and all in all a great way to see in ones 40th.

Font - Day 2

After a night spent sleeping in the van (in the campsite car park) it was time to get sorted, make camp, brew some coffee and then hit town for something to eat. Having done that and feeling just a tiny bit syked it was off to Isatis with le grand ventre for an introduction to the sandstone.

Getting there it was decided that various problems on the blue circuit was the order of the day and off we went - bloody brilliant all round - flashed some, got spanked by others and just got used to the climbing style really. Favoutite problem that I did there was one of the early blue slab problems done in two goes - the trick was getting the start sorted out and once you had got established then it was padding up the slab on random bulges with a fair degree of belief. Also flashed the big crack (24 or 26 maybe?) which was very welcome as it all got a bit tenuous towards the top with no spotter in sight. A few more quality problems got done and then a quick wander out towards the far end of the circuit to get inspired by more awesome looking problems (we had sacked it off by now due to the heat and le grand ventre running out of steam half way up a problem) that will have to be done next time I go out. In fact I suspect that the blue circuit in all its entirety will have to be done. Not hard problems but really nice problems.

From there it was back to the camp-site via the Carrefour for the essential supplies such as beer and the like and then it was a matter of waiting for Broken Beagle and Dear Boy to arrive before heading out again, this time to Rocher Canon.

Rocher Canon - different crag, different problems and a different feel to everything - the problems are that bit bigger than Isatis and while I got up one or two problems, overall I just got shut down on the sky blue circuit. Not really sure why it didn't flow - probably a bit of everything really, tiredness, not feeling that I was moving well and the fact that the problems were that little bit bigger and harder than those we were doing earlier all contributed but regardless it was still a good evening bouldering. The gang were in Font and tomorrow was the big day - I turned 40 and we were off to Bas Cuvier to try La Marie Rose - the first Font 6a in the forest and hopefully mine too.

Font - Day 1

I just love France and the French - the women tend to be sexy and chic, they produce some great cheese that upsets everyone in the office when I eat it for dinner, they drive like bloody maniacs in their battered little French cars and last but not least it contains Font!

Just in case you missed the point I was trying to make there I went to Font for the first time to celebrate my 40th year of not dying and it was bloody awesome.

Day 1 consisted of getting to Font on my own which was a somewhat daunting task it has to be said. I left my brothers house in Nottingham at the optimum time to catch not only the early morning lunacy around that fair city but also the full on rush hour lunacy somewhere around Luton. The standard of driving was at its usual best but with time on my side I just sat out the worst of it and proceeded down to the ferry with time in hand. Nice easy ferry journey and then a brief while to get used to driving on the wrong side of the road and hit the A1 to Paris until I saw the first sign for Bordeaux which marked my turn off point at which point which it all went mental.

Important life lesson number 1 - do not plan to be anywhere near Paris at the time of rush hour. It was hideously intense to say the least - there I was sat behind the wheel trying to focus on what was happening all around me, trying to figure out where the next junction was and reacting to the onslaught of battered French cars complete with their chain smoking drivers appearing from all directions at high speed. As this is France though it is simply not enough, you have to add in the motorcyclists who, judging by my observations, are either built of some indestructible material or are completely and utterly bonkers such is their disregard for any notion of road safety. To top off this experiment in mental stress I had Sloper's (from here on known as le grand ventre) shat nav to "advise" me on my route. It should come as very little surprise that it took after its owner: years out of date, cantankerous and bloody annoying after a while would sum it up nicely.

So how did I manage to negotiate the torturous drive across the North of Paris without getting at least one dint in the van? My theory is that it was down to opening the windows, cranking up the stereo and playing some French free jazz that was even more mental that the occupants of the little tin cans and motorbikes that surrounded me. There was no driver skill involved at all of that I am quite sure.

Having survived the drive round Paris and despite the "assistance" of the shat nav which was hopelessly predicting roundabouts and left hand turns where none existed I somehow arrived in Font. With a great sense of relief I parked up at the station to wait for the arrival of le grand ventre, something he duly managed with his usual lack of sartorial elegance. From there it was a quick drive down the road to dump the van off at the camp site and then a long walk back into Font to have a few beers and chill out.

It had been a long day but I had arrived...

The Big Bang Theory

Four plus hours after being subjected to an episode of the terminal shite that is "The Big Bang Theory" and the obligatory trip to The Sheaf I finally feel calm enough to rant on about it. I wish I was as erudite as Nik at Work when it comes to dissecting such things but I am a simple man so therefore all I will say is:

JUST FUCK OFF WITH YOUR "FRIENDS WITH SCIENCE SHITE" BASTARD TV PROGRAM! FRIENDS WAS NEVER FUNNY AND ADDING SCIENCE TO AN ALREADY SHIT IDEA DOES NOT MAKE IT FUNNY SO PLEASE JUST FUCK OFF MY FUCKING TV YOU TALENTLESS FUCKING BASTARDS!

And on that note I shall retire to my comfy chair and read the Daily Mail which will tell me that the reason we no longer have lots of songbirds is because the immigrants are eating them.

Good day, bad day!

Been down to Camp Butters a couple of times this week - had a good session all round on Monday and walked away pleased with myself. Tried to work the top and middle tier problems and made some sort of progress but the general steepness and some seriously ragged skin did me in towards the end of it.

Today was the opposite - I got on the hardest Font 5 in the world to warm up and got shut down with a vengeance. It was like the first time all over again - no power, no footwork and just bloody awful really. Sat back on the mat and to be honest I was just puzzled - I have this bloody thing reasonably wired now so where had all the progress that I had made in the previous weeks gone? Decided that I wasn't going to let it get to me and had another go with slightly better results but things were not looking good so had a radical rethink and just concentrated on doing the middle section (which is the crux for me) as smoothly as possible. Eventually called it a day about three hours later - skin was shot again which is starting to become an issue but at least I had done something instead of walking away in a fit of pique. Next time I get on it there is hope that the end section will be that much easier as a result of the work that was put in today.

Also got a bit of beta on the middle tier problem which seems feasible - it certainly looked easier than the way I was trying it on Monday so that is something else to look forward to.

Camp Butters

Been down to Camp Butters (formerly known as Rubicon) for the last couple of days. The hardest Font 5 in the world is getting easier and while it is still nowhere near a certainty every time I did manage to chalk up half way through it. A minor success as linking into other stuff still seemed a long way away but I felt tired yesterday so not that disappointed about that. Also had a play on Dragonflight Traverse - the moves don't feel that bad but the pain in my feet was excruciating - hopefully this is down to the shoes needing to break in a bit more.

Back again today and warmed up, did the 6a+, some variation going direct to the penultimate sidepull of the former problem and then played about on the Three Tier Traverses to the right. I had thought that these were all 6b but a quick look at the Peak District Bouldering website soon knocked that idea on the head - from the top 5+, 6a and 6b+. At least that would explain why the lowest one feels monumentally hard and the two above not quite so bad. Finished off with a couple of attempts at Miller's Dale - going again to the crimp with the left not a great idea when your skin is trashed - it hurts - a lot!

Unlocking the sequence

Decided to take a look at Carls Wark at Stoney yesterday. There was few reasons behind this, the first being that it was somewhere that I hadn't been before, the second was that it had easier problems to attempt. The final (and probably most compelling reason) was that I couldn't be arsed to drive to Rubicon with the intention of not going anywhere near A Millers Tale, ultimately failing to do so and end up having a rubbish session on it due to the exertions of the day before.

Given all the above I set off mid afternoon to go and locate the crag which for me proved a lot easier than the descent to it which was interesting to say the least. Once there I had a quick look at the left hand wall and decided that the 6a was a bit much for some lonesome bouldering action given it's highball rating and so attention was turned to the more amenable right wall instead. It was baking in the sun so an hour was whiled away with short bouts of brushing a few holds and forming some ideas regarding sequences and longer bouts of general idleness until the sun disappeared behind the trees. There are worse ways to lose an hour of your life I think.

It was action time - the 6a looked deceptively simple - left hand on the sidepull, right hand in the break, right foot low, cross through to an obvious foothold with the left and mantle up to the flake\sidepull with the left hand at which point it would all be over. All in all it looked far too easy for the given grade and seemed that way as my initial sequence resulting in me flowing upwards until I reached up for the flake\sidepull only to be stopped a couple of inches short and after a couple of attempts at something different dropping back to earth. OK it is probably not 6a for the tall then... Thought about it some more and then tried a higher left foot - no discernible difference to the amount of height gained so try some different handholds - same again. Tried a few more various combinations all of which resulted in tickling the very bottom of the sidepull and no more - things weren't going quite as imagined while I sat and looked upwards at the holds in the bright sunshine.

Deciding that I needed time away from this particular problem I then flashed the 4 in very bad style, again seemingly obvious moves proved to be otherwise in reality but a snatched fingerlock got it done first time. Tried a few more different ways of doing it and finally hit on one which made the grade seem feasible but more importantly that I felt did the problem justice in terms of style and movement.

From there it was a quick step right and onto the 6a+ which was similar to the 6a but the move upwards was to a slopey two finger dish for the left hand. I actually reached the dish once and kind of held it for a brief second before finding myself back on the mat with some sore fingers after they ripped out without warning. Experimented some more with foot positions without success and then back to the 6a for a final few goes which stubbornly refused to bow to my theory that I could reach the sidepull and use it.

With that a retreat was beaten back to the van and home where a few hours later while watching The Matrix (an entirely unrelated point) the one thing I hadn't tried crashed into my conscience - turning the right hand into an undercut. As far as unlocking the sequence goes it was a bit belated but if it works I take it. Hopefully it will make the 6a problem feel more stable and provide the necessary couple of extra inches of reach and there is a chance that it could work on the 6a+ as well.

Rubicon 3, Butters 1

With the aid of the new shoes I finally got the warm up traverse done today - the difference a pair of climbing shoes makes over a pair of Turkish slippers is amazing. Got through to the usual point where I would be so pumped that I would just fall off with something left in the tank and grabbing a quick half rest before proceeding to the end of the hardest Font 5 in the world. Now I have finally done it the plan is to to get it a bit more wired and then there are a few options - reverse the problem, backtrack into the 6a+ or carry on through one of the three obvious lines that carry on from there. The possibilities while not being endless are many.

Then spent a while belaying the Broken Beagle on Salar which I gather is quite hard to judge by the commentary and probably used up his quota of expletives for the week in the progress. Once Broken Beagle had got the draws in and lowered off we then spent time going backwards and forwards between our main events.

For me it was the second proper session on A Millers Tale (I am discounting the last session as that was more getting the sit start wired) which made short work of my theory that it was going to go in two sessions from a stander. Am I disappointed? Not a chance - I now have the bottom section wired pretty much to the point where the moves up to the go again with the left hand is better than 50\50 every time now so progress can be measured in real terms.

Will it go in three sessions? Possibly but I am refusing to put a deadline on it now - I am just going to enjoy the problem for what it is - bloody hard but really enjoyable at the same time.

New Shoes II

Out last night with Lord Sloper of Grindleford for a few beers followed by a few more beers and then to the curry house. A good night apart from handing over far too much money in forfeit for my lack of skill at Backgammon. Quite why I was playing for money is debatable as I could count the number of games of Backgammon I had played prior to last night on two hands probably so I got what I deserved to be honest.

Anyway after depositing the Sloper back in Grindleford where he could lord it over the proles once more it was off to Outside to change the too small Dragons. Luck was with me as they had a new delivery of Anasazi V2's in and so it was a choice between a half size bigger pair of Dragons or the V2's - choices, choices, choices. After much debate I went for the V2's - they just felt better overall on my random feet and while the heel of the Dragons was by far the better of the two they were also promising a world of pain in my toes until they broke in. OK the heels on the V2's are not the greatest - there is a fair bit of dead space in them and they are going to be pretty uncomfortable while they break in but the day any climbing shoe manufacturer (let alone Five Ten) produce a shoe that actually fits my heels will be a cold day in hell I suspect.

New Shoes

Finally convinced myself that I could afford\wanted\had to have a new pair of climbing shoes specifically for the lime - the Five Ten Turkish slippers of doom just weren't cutting the mustard on the white stuff.

The original plan was to go for the Anasazi V2's reasoning that they are a decent pair of shoes for the lime but it seems that Five Ten are not producing them in an 8.5 at the minute. Tried a size 8 and that was a non-starter - major squashing of the toes and the 9's had enough room to fit a small child in the heel so the nice man in Outside suggested Dragon's. I had discounted these as they are super aggressive compared to both the Verde's and the Anasazi V2's and being a punter they seemed a tad excessive for what I require. Having tried them on though I found that they fit my ultra weird foot shape - think very low volume and no heel to speak of - and I can lace them down tight so after procrastinating for a while I bit the bullet. Now all I need to do is take them back and get them a half size bigger and it will be time to crush the greasy lime which will hopefully be tomorrow or Sunday if the weather plays ball.

One other piece of "news" is that I have found the colour printer at work and reasoning that it was a shame to have such a nice piece of kit sitting there and doing nowt I would put it to good use by printing off the Stoney mini guide and also the excellent St Bees North guide. Both are outstanding pieces of work (you can really feel the love that has gone into producing them) and they get you syked to go to these places and pull hard. They also shows the climbing community in a great light as these are free to download and print off (especially if you have the works printer available). Kudos to those who produce these things - reminds me that I really should think about sorting one out for Helman Tor.

Rubicon 2 Butters 0

I dragged Broken Beagle down to Rubicon on Sunday after giving the idea of spending the afternoon belaying him on red point attempts of Lockless short shrift. Was a reasonably good session actually - felt OK on the traverse of doom though I have yet to complete it but it will go with some new shoes. The faithful and much loved Verde's are a fine pair of shoes for climbing on grit but when it comes to lime I have no doubt that a pair of Turkish slippers would probably offer better support.

Having said that I managed the rising traverse (given 6a+ in the guide) so well pleased with that - feel like I should probably have flashed it but got the final moves wrong and I was back on the mat. No repeat second time around - reach up, get the big sidepull\pocket and pull to glory.

From there it was back to a Miller's Tale - gave Broken Beagle the beta along with a caveat that it was possibly junk as it was "Butters specific beta" and showed him the rather improbable but ultimately awesome flag move and we were off. Me being me I decided that instead of concentrating on the stand up version and getting that in the bag I would take a quick look at the sit start which was being touted about as something like 6c reasoning that it was going to be too hard and therefore I could try it and then move on. Obviously that plan went to ruin pretty quickly as I found I could get off the ground and while the footwork wasn't obvious it was all there and so a new siege was engaged. Thankfully Broken Beagle wasn't making things look easy which the evil part of me was pleased about as it meant that time was on my side to have a good go at the sitter. Managed eventually to get one move from the standing start and that should fall into place with a bit of thought and then into the meat of the problem proper - I really am my own worst enemy at times.

Broken Beagle sent it from the sitter with one last gasp effort that I honestly thought he was going to drop on the last move after skipping a move going for the final hold. Not sure who was more amazed that he held on to be honest but he did and then we all retired for beer, Sheffield Tapas and talking rubbish - a good end to a good day.

Round Up

Finally got out yesterday after the best part of two weeks where I seem to have done an awful lot of things but not one of those was going climbing.

The weekend before last was taken up with Broken Bell End Berry's stag do. Arrived back in Suffolk on the Friday night (it was raining so no stop over at Pleasley on the way through) and straight down town for a few beers and a few frames of snooker which went rapidly downhill as we were playing for shorts. Ended up getting quite remarkably drunk and falling in more than one ditch on the way home which in retrospect was not the greatest of ideas.

The stag do started where it had left off the day before for us and then proceeded to Norwich where there were far more fit women there than I had expected - as the great McFiend once said (of somewhere else entirely) "it was wall to wall flange". If there was anything in Norwich worth climbing then I would be heading there every weekend but there isn't so that rules that out. It is also full of the old enemy - namely supporters of Norwich City F.C. so another good reason not to go.

Sunday drove back and Monday was the start of four of the hardest shifts I have worked in a while - it was one of those where lots of things just went wrong one after the other. To say I glad to have got those out of the way was an understatement!

Friday I just felt awful - one suspects that the result of falling in too many ditches the weekend before was one of those summer colds that seem to knock the very life out of you for 24 hours and for those of you who are thinking man flu it was so bad I actually refused an offer of going to the pub for a quick beer.

The other thing about Friday was that I had a dog to look after. Damien McDoom is one of those dogs who is a fine beast (unless he's trying to steal my bacon sarnie) but who, ultimately, proves to be totally rubbish as a climbers dog as you have to pay far too much attention to him to to be able to concentrate on anything else. With that in mind it a quick nine mile walk out from Hathersage to Bretton and back via Abney and over Shatton Moor was of the order of the day. Stopped for an obligatory pint at the Barrel (great pub but doesn't sell pork scratchings) and then back to Sheff for a couple in the Sheaf (even better pub and does sell pork scratchings) afterwards. A nice day out with spells of sun and showers though it was incredibly humid at times - that combined with the after effects of the cold I had made any hill seem like a true effort. Lord only knows what the people we met coming the other way thought of us...

Sunday I will deal with in another post tomorrow - thinking of the Sheaf has put me in mind of beer.

Deviant Behaviour

My name is Butters - today I went bouldering at Stoney Middleton and to my eternal shame I enjoyed myself - I am a deviant.

Tomorrow I will be at Stanage Popular End flagellating myself with birch twigs in an attempt to cure this shameful behaviour.

Rubicon 1, Butters 0

Back to Rubicon today with the intention of having another go at the start of A Miller's Tale - met Ru and Sarah on the walk in and had a quick chat with them and then onwards to a deserted crag. Most surprising - just the crag and me which retrospectively was probably just as well.

Tried the warm up traverse and it is starting to feel a bit more like the Font 5 that it is given in that I am getting that bit further into the meat of the problem consistently but still haven't done it yet which is a bit frustrating. I really should be able to do a Font5 in less time than this even if it is a big pumpy traverse on polished footholds.

That's not the point though - the point was that I climbed like I was made of lead - mega flash pump straight from the off and after ridding my arms of the worst of that I tried again with similar results. After the second attempt I decided that getting on A Miller's Tale was not going to happen and so settled in for a stamina (hah!) session for an hour or so with long rests in between each attempt.

A Miller's Tale

The weather was actually good enough to go climbing today after the spell of Northern summer that we have been experiencing since I got back from my brothers wedding. Given this unseasonable spell and wishing to take full advantage of it, it was off to Rubicon with the Flipper to see what was what.

Ran into the Lagerstarfish at the crag and had a chat with him - got a recommendation for a 6b to look at sometime soon and after the usual sitting about and cogitating it was onto the "easy" traverse to warm up. It actually felt OK today which was nice - the last time I was on it I just got beasted and it felt hard as nails but even with a better feel to it, it is still nowhere near the 5 (or 5+) grade it gets given as far as I am concerned. Sat about some more and got chatting to a guy I met at Owler Tor a few months back - turns out his name is Chris which he probably told me last time but since he couldn't remember my name either I refuse to feel bad about it. More dossing ensued while we watched three guys make Rubicon Wall look piss and then it was off to have a look at A Miller's Tale.

It is just one of those problems where you look at it and think it will be interesting. Felt the starting holds and tried a few different ways of starting it before settling on a method that allowed me to be pretty static and then it was a matter of sticking my right foot on the huge but a bit polished foothold and trusting it. The first couple of times I slid off the side of it experiencing a rather painful knee\limestone interface in the process but once I had gained a bit of trust in it then it was just a matter of trusting it some more. Semi static move to the good sidepull, compress across the shoulders to stay on and then drop a huge flag out to the right with the left foot - just one of those moves where the more you do it the better it gets - it's truly beautiful. Once you have done this and you realise you are still on the wall then go with the left hand to the slot as static as possible which if you have done everything right should feel relatively easy (well easy as it can anyway).

It is at this point where the hard work kicks in - it feels (to me anyway) that the obvious move is to go again with the left hand which contradicts the "accepted science" behind climbing movement and the fact that I am blowing the foothold when I hit it backs this up. The solution? Ignore "accepted science"! Compress some more on that sidepull and pull that bit harder on the "good" crimp you hit with the left - sometimes you have to ignore the science and just go with what feels right. Plaster that foot back on and get stable then strike the next crimp with the right hand and that was about as far as it went tonight - I held the crimp with the right once and it feels pretty good but probably more important is that I feel the problem will go.

Roll on Friday when round two commences - as for the fact that I seem to be enjoying the perversity that is polished Peak Limestone? Just treat it like "accepted science"...

Best Man's Speech of Doom

The speech finally hit my in box on Friday though I was not aware of its arrival till the Saturday when I logged on. This is partly down to the appalling mobile phone coverage that afflicts Suffolk and in equal parts due to me not bothering to charge my phone. Anyway it was there at last but a hectic rush on the Saturday meant that I wrote it out long hand between 2PM and 3PM that afternoon with the intention of going over it a few times when time allowed. Time subsequently allowed me nothing and the first chance I got to look at it was when I was called upon to present it to the assembled masses at the wedding. It was at this point I froze - it would be no exaggeration to say that I completely and utterly seized and wished that the ground would open up and swallow me. After what seemed like an eternity of looking at these sheets of paper that had somehow translated themselves in a fit of spite to a combination of hieroglyphics and Cyrillic script and a couple of false starts I put the offending sheets back in my pocket and came up with what I could remember off the top of my head.

Quite what I said I have no idea but it seemed to work - I am now hoping that no one recorded the event and it will eventually become the stuff of legend and myth and that will be that.

Other than my dying at the vital moment it all went swimmingly well as far as I can remember.

Countdown

Two days and counting till my brothers wedding - just got to get the rest of the seemingly millions of things I have got to do sorted and that will be that.

The speech is sort of written - I decided in my infinite wisdom that I would combine things that I really don't like doing (writing a speech) with things I do like doing (having a pint in the Sheaf). A great plan in theory and it all started so well till about the third pint at which point my already limited resources of inspiration dried up. Ended up getting rather drunk and something that was passable at best so I got on the phone to the Dear Boy Philip and with the promise of beer as a reward asked him to edit it out for me. This has been done but as yet no speech has been mailed back to me - when I spoke to him last night he had done the editing but his laptop was running out of battery and he was about to board a ferry to France. Therefore he was going to try and charge the battery on the ferry and then send the revised speech back to me using WiFi from a Maccy D's or somewhere similar when in France. Mmmm.

Plan for the rest of today is to get all the odd jobs out of the way and then spend an hour or so at Pleasley doing a few problems - hopefully it will be in nick as we had a fair bit of rain yesterday but since it has been so dry I can't imagine that there will be much run off or seepage. From there it is back south to the sounds of Adam Beyer, Laurent Garnier and a few other choice DJ sets to keep me sane.

Wish me luck - I have the feeling that I am going to need it...

Odd and sods

Another set of four night shifts has been consigned to history and the countdown to my brothers wedding starts - I have the basis of the best man's speech written down and so once I have finished rambling here I have got to crack on with that.

I woke up last Thursday in what can best be called an absolutely foul mood - quite what was causing it I have no idea but I needed to do something so I went down to Rubicon to have another go at the traverse. I have now managed to complete the second part once which is kind of good in some ways, slightly depressing in others but the reality is that it got me out of my mental state of hubris which was all I really wanted from the day. Started off by throwing a beer mat on the ground a couple of moves past my highpoint (surely a contradiction with a traverse) and made that first time which I was pleased about so moved it down to the red streak as my next aim. Cue lots and lots of failure - I just kept getting swamped with a tsunami of pump once I hit the second section and while I knew it was over gripping that was causing it knowing this doesn't actually mean that you can stop it. Time for a change of plan - I knew that I had the first section pretty much wired so decided to eliminate that and start at the end and work the second section. I also admitted to the fact that I have got no stamina at the minute and so I sat about for ages (think along the lines of epochs here) getting my feeble arms to a non-pumped state and then put myself on timed burns at it. The plan was to have an attempt and then give myself five minutes recovery time before the next go - it says a lot that five minutes wasn't enough for my forearms to recover but the only way to get better is to push a bit harder outside of the comfort zone. Somewhere in this torturous set of attempts I managed to get past the beer mat to the end of the second section proper - it was just agonised slapping from one good handhold to the next with the sole aim of making one more move, moving feet and repeating until failure but it felt good all the same. Nice setting with a bit of a breeze and sunshine followed by a fantastic pint of Barnsley Bitter and some Sheffield tapas - welcome back to humanity.

Yesterday I watched the finals of the Bouldering World Cup on the internet - I wanted to be there in person but stuff got in the way so had to settle for the streamed experience instead. All in all it was good - the only real criticism I had was that they really should have the clock showing so that you know how long the competitors have left to attempt the problem but it worked well other than that. Some of the comments on the "chat" function were also amusing - various comments abounded about the first men's problem as it featured the ignoble art of chimneying and a lot of people just couldn't get the fact that you can set a good problem on something that is not 45 degrees overhanging minimum.

Seeing the beast that is Adam Ondra casually dispatch the first three problems was equally dismaying and welcomed as it meant that full attention could be transferred to Natalija Gros instead who in her own way is equally beastly. The way she did the crux move on the second (I think) problem was a sight to behold. While all the other competitors went for leaping across in various states of gazelle like grace she just did the splits across the two holds, got what looked a less than ideal handhold, crushed it and rocked over somehow - a fine effort indeed.

The other huge surprise was Ondra falling off the last problem not once but twice - the crux was reminiscent to the start of the crux to Tody's Wall (the move onto the block) but a bit harder and then getting a huge hold out behind your head. Once you figured out that you had to be facing the huge hold and dropping onto it then the rest of the problem was "easy" in comparison but seeing Ondra fail to flash it after the ease with which he dispatched the other three final problems was somehow shocking.

Right - better crack on with the best man's speech. Back to Rubicon tomorrow to see if progress can be made on the traverse and try a few other problems I think and then Pleasley on Thursday as it is only a short diversion from there on the way back South.

Stoney Madness

Following the demise of England's world cup bid (which I seem to be unashamedly happy about) it's back to the old routine of being a punter. At this time of year this involves pulling hard on half decent holds and standing on ones that are mightily polished and where finer to do this than at the hallowed temple of polish that is Minus Ten at Stoney.

Leaving Sheffield I wasn't feeling too excited about it all - I was feeling tired after drinking too much the night before to try and erase the memories of the worst England team ever to play in a World Cup (I now know the Scot's feel when they qualify) and it was baking hot. Getting out to the Peak it had deteriorated to hot and cloudy and humid beyond belief but having parked the van and walking up the High Street a gentle breeze was blowing so it didn't seem so bad. That lasted till we got to Minus Ten where the magical zephyrs so prevalent only a moment before had disappeared again and all we were left with was super sweaty limestone to flail on. Well we were there so flail we did - the middle of the traverse was dispatched (didn't bother with the left hand part) and then I tried the final moves though Pinch 2 which is the crux of it all and a fair degree harder than the rest by a long way. Got a half sequence going but really not drilling my right foot onto the hold for the crux and so was subsequently barn dooring off and try as I might the syke really wasn't there to try harder.

All quiet on the Western Front

Not the combo double bonus route at Almscliffe but in general.

Finally recovered from my brothers stag do midway through Monday and was hopeful that the van was going to be sorted so that I could go and beast myself at Rubicon. No such luck as they couldn't get the drive shaft for that day so it would have to wait till tomorrow for delivery.

Tuesday came and it brought with it the wrong part which didn't make me very happy. Up till this point I had been relatively sanguine about the fact that the drive shaft had already been removed days earlier to have the clutch replaced only to get bolted back on and then being subsequently warned that it was very close to fucked. Now I was just bloody annoyed - another day that I can't get out and go climbing and it was then I remembered the Heeley boulder. It may not be much but at least it can be climbed on and it will do when you can't get anywhere else - needs must and all that.

From a visit a long time ago I remembered the Heeley boulder as being a bit shit and while a return visit didn't exactly dispel those memories it didn't prove to be as bad as I expected. If you use a bit of imagination it can be quite useful actually as it's steep, the crimps are big enough to be of some value if you have not crimped for a while and the Sheaf is minutes away for a post training pint. It will do as a training for the greater ranges and all that.

Aftermath

This weekend was my brothers stag do organised by yours truly - no calls to bail anyone out so I think we all survived the occasion which given the state of Ballooner was bordering on miraculous. Over the course of two days I drank an awful lot of beer, ate some curry, repeatedly texted some poor person whose phone number I had mistakenly entered into my phone, and looked at some scantily clad women. Recovery is still taking place and I am going bouldering tonight assuming the van is sorted by then - it is unlikely to be a very productive session but all in all a rather successful weekend...

Sublime slime II

The weather cleared out this afternoon so decided to hit Pleasley with the Flipper. The overnight rain had left the crag a bit wet at the bottom with the odd hold seeping but the majority of the crag was climbable though any cloud cover resulted in a greasy collection of positive holds to try and hold on to. Still turned out to be a good session though - checked out the left hand side buttress which has a few good lines to go at, made a bit of progress on the big traverse and my footwork seemed to be on the ball. All good stuff and as an added bonus we managed to get back to the van about five minutes before the next bout of monsoon rain passed through.

I now feel like I have been run over by a small train and while I won't be going to work at 7PM tomorrow night with great joy etc. at least I will know that I cranked hard on my off days.

Sublime slime

With the heat building up to the levels of a blast furnace it was time to say goodbye to the grit for the summer months and start on a new journey - that of learning (maybe relearning) the intricacies of limestone. I have had a brief play on the white stuff this year but lime has always been a harsh master for me and has only got worse given my steady diet of grit bouldering for too long. Too long off from stuff involving a bit of string and some chunky quickdraws have left me with absolutely no crimp strength and even less endurance.

In an effort to rectify this I am forcing myself to love the lime and I am slowly getting there - spent Friday night bouldering at Rubicon for the first time with the Flipper. A really lovely setting to say the least and the long, long, long traverse gave me a very pumped set of forearms but thankfully not quite as pumped as those experienced on "Sock it to 'em" at Smalldale which took pumped to a whole new level. The traverse is notable for looking piss and being decidedly not piss - it is subtly steeper than you think it is, the hand holds are generally huge and the footholds are not. After an hour and a half I was pretty trashed and for my sins I had managed to work the first part (of four) to the big sidepull flake to a point where I was happy with the sequence. From there I then managed to link half way into the second part where it gets steeper and the ability to put the weight through your feet and hit the footholds both precisely and quickly starts to become more urgent. From this point is unknown but it is not going to get any easier for sure.

Saturday was on more familiar ground at Horseshoe with Broken Beagle. Decided that seconding and focussing on decent footwork was going to be of more use to me than getting scared on lead. Pale Rider (6a) went clean but placed far too much emphasis on pulling hard instead of using my feet, Schools Out (6a+) went better but got the sequence wrong towards the top, fought back to get into a position to try and make the move but lack of arms saw me off and finally Rotund Rooley (6b allegedly) beasted the living daylights out of me. No way is it 6b - for someone of my stature it's somewhere closer to 6b+ as far as I am concerned - the crux felt Font6b on it's own. Grade debating aside it was the best burn of the day - less over gripping and the footwork seemed OK up to that point so reasonably pleased.

Today is a rest day as the first storm of the summer arrived in a rather noisy fashion this morning.

True Story

I stole a rabbit from a pet shop the other day.

Thinking about making a run for it...

BOOM BOOM!!

I like this joke so much that I am going to use it in my best man's speech for my brother.

Slaying Demons

Every time I go to Curbar I think to myself that today is going to be the day that Strawberries moves from the "Things I should have done ages ago" pile to the "Thank god I finally got that done" pile. Yesterday it finally got moved - a subtle adjustment of the left foot allowed me to get the higher slot for the left hand in control (for such a small adjustment it is ridiculous how much of a difference it made) and then just pulled hard and hit the jug. BANG!!

At this point it falls to the mighty Dobbinator to sum up proceedings:

"...all you can do is try not to listen to the voices going 'this is the one! you did that move well, this could be it' and then when you get past the hard bit and find yourself shaking out on the 'easy but droppable' bit then the voice changes to be saying 'dont fluff it now, you know you did before...' and again, the voice gets a pillow on its face, and you push on. I felt more tired as I did the final moves than i have before, I felt wild, like I wasnt climbing well but somehow fought on regardless and then bosh! i was on the jug, swinging around at the top having finished the problem. The crowd didnt go wild, there was no roar of satisfaction but finally it was done. A warm glow of success spread slowly through my limbs in the minutes afterwards. Brilliant."

It was all of that and worse - Curbar has been a witness to some fine examples of shit climbing at times (most provided by me) but a new base line was reached yesterday. All the memories of the last time I made it to this point only to fall off came back to haunt me - I would have struggled to smother the voices with all of the stock contained within Mr Wong's Duvet Emporium let alone a single pillow. There was no way I was dropping it this time and reaching deep within myself I plumbed the murky depths of rad and syke. Finding something I hauled like a team of wild horses on the huge hand holds and without an iota of care for style or anything else I just dragged my useless feet behind me and onto the top of the block. Style? Who needs it...

From there it was off to The Ultimate Gritstone Experience where normal service was resumed - made it to my usual highpoint and that was that. One day I will figure out what I am supposed to do with my right foot when I get to the lip but success was proving elusive yesterday - a man can only slay so many demons in a day.