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!
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!
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