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?

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.

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...