No Chance and His Journey to Climbing Greatness (Part 1)
By the Boardlord
This is the story of ‘No Chance’.
One day, No Chance was hanging out by the local cliff, wondering why he felt so pumped. He’d just gone up a route his strong mates had just flashed as their warm up, yet he couldn’t even get past the 3rd bolt.
No Chance turned to Big Chance and asked him why this was so. Big Chance said “you’re not strong enough for this sucker!” which kind of left No Chance wondering what this whole gig was about climbing. Was he getting pumped because he was simply weak, or was he getting pumped because he had no ‘endurance’. He decided to ask Even Better Chance.
Even Better Chance told him that there was a little thing called a boulder problem at the 3rd bolt.
“What’s a ‘boulder problem?’ replied No Chance.
Even Better Chance said that it was a sequence of moves that were extremely powerful in relation to the rest of the route.
“How can I do this ‘boulder problem’? replied No Chance.
“You have to start training power little grasshopper”, stated Even Better Chance, who had already run three laps of the said route and wasn’t remotely pumped in the slightest.
“But I thought routes were all about something called ‘enduro-pumping’, said No Chance.
“That’s where you’re wrong”, interjected Best Chance. Best Chance was there with his wife, Had A Chance, and his daughter, In With A Chance. Best Chance was famous for his uncanny ability to walk up grade 29’s on a daily basis, but what No Chance didn’t realise, was that he was also a V10 boulderer.
“Power is your lifeline to so-called endurance”, continued Best Chance. “Without power, you are nothing.”
“I told you that you were crap”, F*ck All Chance blurted in. (F*ck All Chance was a mate of No Chance, and was still struggling with top roping the local warm up route, despite getting on it every weekend for the last 7 years). Not surprisingly, he’d never bouldered a day in his life.
“Not as crap as I am” said Fat Chance, who was standing nearby looking absolutely wasted (he’d just completed the walk-in).
“So how come people can climb 30 metre overhanging routes and not get pumped?” asked No Chance. “That’s not power, that’s endurance!”
“Aaah!” replied Half A Chance (who was trying to get In With A Chance to go out with him, although he didn’t have much of a chance of that). “It boils down to one thing really. Finger strength. That’s why you often see fat looking bastards waltz up hard routes. It’s what you can hold onto that counts.” He glanced over at In With A Chance, but she was smiling at Fat Chance, who had just tripped over a rope and sprained his ankle.
“He’s right” said Best Chance, “and the best way of obtaining that strength is to go bouldering”.
“So if I turn into a boulderer, I’ll get better at routes?” asked No Chance.
“Yep” said Even Better Chance, who by now had completed his 18th lap of a 25 and was thinking of calling it a day.
“That’s it then – I’m going bouldering!” exclaimed No Chance, who secretly hoped that any new found strength would lead to his nickname being changed to ‘Some Chance’ plus a new found relationship with Pretty Good Chance, who was Even Better Chance’s sister.
No Chance and His Journey to Climbing Greatness (Part 2)
And so it was that No Chance bought himself a bouldering mat and started bouldering. He became so enamoured with it that he talked Pretty Good Chance into joining him on some forays into Stapylton. They laughed, they cried, they fell and they shouted 'C'mon baby' a lot. They forgot about the hassles of roped climbing and forged a partnership based on love, power and short black coffees. By day, they lived in their Moon Cypher pants. By night, they lived in each others pants.
Their relationship got stronger and stronger, as did their body tension and pinch grip strength. Relentless days spent hanging out in Hollow Mountain Cave yielded to relentless nights spent hanging in each others arms, content in the knowledge that tomorrow would bring more joy in new-found boulder problems and two finger undercling techniques. Gradually, No Chance morphed into Some Chance, and later - Great Chance. Pretty Good Chance, now his girlfriend, remained Pretty yet became Pretty Amazing Chance, particularly when she pulled off an ascent of Dead Can't Dance.
Old friends such as Even Better Chance turned up to see what this bouldering lark was all about, but after pumping his way across numerous 40 metre jugfests for several months, he couldn't compete, and so took off with Fat Chance to the nearest pub. There they marvelled at how No Chance had so quickly become Some Chance, and now had the best chance at marrying Pretty Amazing Chance who was, understandably, pretty amazing.
They drank and drank and drank, until Fat Chance pointed out that they'd have bugger all chance of climbing anything the next day - not that he was going to anyway. Even Better Chance (who by now was known as Lost Chance) called up In With A Chance and attempted to pour out his entire sad story to her, hoping she'd love him for what he was (a route climber that could no longer boulder) - but she was off with Great Chance learning the joys of advanced sloper technique (in his tent).
So Great Chance had two Chances, while Lost Chance, by now, had Absolutely F*ck All Chance.
"That's what you get for endurance training" he thought.
TO BE CONTINUED…
12 November 2010
26 July 2010
A dream is finally a (half) reality.
Left: Gulich on Punks in 1985I can recall many many years ago hearing about this little route called 'Punks In The Gym'. Hardest route at Arapiles (and one of the harder in Oz) supposedly. Was then the hardest route in the world in 1985 they say. Fell to the deft touch of a certain German superstar. No, not Brüno. Wolfgang Gullich. R.I.P Wolfy.
Anyway, back to my story. Everytime I would return to Arapiles (which on average is maybe once a year now) I would gaze up at 'Punks' and dream. 'One day I will feel worthy of attempting such a route, but not today' Yet that dream was realised last week, as I ventured off to Araps mid week, for a break from the shit getting me down in the city. So when I was meant to be frantically running around a warehouse barking orders, I was caressing the very holds God himself had used to dance up the wall, in the clean, crisp, soul reviving, country air.
Oh my what a route! Not in years has a climb or boulder problem captured my attention as much as this. This one route has given me the motivation to train hard, and a goal to really strive for. Something my climbing life has been lacking for quite a while. And considering I have come close to giving up climbing several times this year, this could not have come at a better time.
So, along with myself, Taswegian lad Doug McConnel and super strong Kiwi lass Mayan Gobat-Smith (both of whom are a bees dick from the send) are currently working the route. Word has it some sneaky NSW folk were trying it earlier, and I just got off the phone with fellow A-Team-er Grosey who was spraying about how he's gonna swoop in fresh from his Nowra trip to snag an ascent before me, along with South Australian Mick Wells and sweet cheeks himself Pat Turner.
Game on moles!
Bring on the Punks renaissance!
- TheBigAl
16 July 2010
Someone Save Me!
Who wants to give me a new job? One somewhere in the country. One where I don't have to stress about timelines. One where I don't have to take phone calls from egotistical head chefs of certain high profile restaurants complaining that their baby vegetables are all not of uniform size and shape. Where the pace of life seems to slow down to a gentle walk, instead of a mad sprint, and is preferably near the Grampians.
Everyday I wake up, struggle to leave my bed, and slink into work out of sheer habit. The monotony of the job seems to slowly kill me, just a little, day after day. The Boss Man takes it easy while I frantically keep things together. How many times do I have to tell the people I manage how to perform a task before they will learn it? I havent worked that one out yet. Apparently everyday for a whole week is still not enough for someone to learn how to clean up a single coolroom. Dear God! There's still another 3 coolrooms to go!
Then theres the sickness. Sleeping for 36 hours out of 48 hours over a weekend surely can't be normal? 2 climbing sessions in 4 weeks? Not cool dude, not cool.
On the upside, I just just finished watching The Wire. Holy shit what an awesome TV series! Just started on True Blood on the recomendation of a few. Now I'm tired again and dinner is almost ready.
Rant over.
- TheBigAl
Everyday I wake up, struggle to leave my bed, and slink into work out of sheer habit. The monotony of the job seems to slowly kill me, just a little, day after day. The Boss Man takes it easy while I frantically keep things together. How many times do I have to tell the people I manage how to perform a task before they will learn it? I havent worked that one out yet. Apparently everyday for a whole week is still not enough for someone to learn how to clean up a single coolroom. Dear God! There's still another 3 coolrooms to go!
Then theres the sickness. Sleeping for 36 hours out of 48 hours over a weekend surely can't be normal? 2 climbing sessions in 4 weeks? Not cool dude, not cool.
On the upside, I just just finished watching The Wire. Holy shit what an awesome TV series! Just started on True Blood on the recomendation of a few. Now I'm tired again and dinner is almost ready.
Rant over.
- TheBigAl
25 June 2010
Reality hits home.
I’ve been home over a month now. And I have been having my ups and downs. Mundane “purpose of life” type stuff. On returning home, I have come across several questions:
- How was your trip?
- What are your plans now?
- What is it like being home?
How do you have small talk over such questions? “Trip was good. Don’t have plans. Being home is nice”. But really, there is so much mumbo jumbo going on in my head right now!
I had grand plans for when I would return. I would settle in for a week or so. Do some easy routes. Then I would activate crush mode, crushing everything in the Grampians and Arapiles. In addition to being turbo, I would be earning huge wads of cash through some unknown brilliant scheme- saving for my next massive road trip. I would be so happy! Climbing in perfect crisp conditions. Earning tonnes of money. Seeing my friends. Sleeping in my own bed.
Ah. But alas, this was not the case.
Job was nothing. I still have not discovered how to find a job flexible enough for me to climb when I want. Long story short- I got on the dole. Or “Newstart Allowance” would be its politically correct name. Very depressing moment in my life, queuing up in the line at Centrelink. But, yay! Money while looking for jobs, which I was going to do anyway. Not without attending half a dozen interviews and filling out a whole trees worth of forms first though.
Seems like I lucked out on the job hunting last week. One of my best friends from University quit her job, and her replacement broke his foot! Bad for him, good for me! Temporary, casual job doing Exercise Rehab! Amazing. Only a couple hundred hours more and I will become an Accredited Exercise Physiologist. Now doesn’t that sound fancy compared to a dole bludger! Hopefully it can lead into a more permanent position. The work is interesting (most of the time), super close to my house, and everyone is lovely! It’s nice to have money put in my bank account for the first time in 14 months. Stress relief.
As for climbing. That has not been so good. I feel a bit tired. And my motivation fluctuates immensely from day to day. Sometimes I am so psyched I could burst from every orifice of my body! I think about climbing all day and my hands get all sweaty and my tummy gets all tingly! I have moments where I scare myself as to how obsessive this hobby is for me, and I think I should get something else in my life for balance. I just can’t help how much I love it. But then, after last weekend I was done. The more I thought about climbing, the more I beat myself up over how I am not satisfied with my climbing at the moment. Not technical enough. Not strong enough. Not fit enough. Bad headspace. Haven’t climbed or bouldered anything in over a month. Fail.
But then my sensible self (and KP) says- “Don’t worry. It will come”. I have started work so haven’t got out much. And I have had pretty terrible weather conditions (6 out of 7 wet days) at the Gramps (KP says I have become a conditions snob). People in Melbourne work so I have less partner options. I have had a cold on and off since returning (which makes me think I might need a break). And, reality is, I am not on a climbing trip anymore and I need to suck it up. Change my expectations. Make the most of the time I have....and go to the Blue Mountains for two weeks! Psyched!
So I am off tomorrow for two weeks of crimping on razors (so I’ve heard, I’ve never been). Let’s see if I can get one route done! If not, I am pretty sure I will successfully have a good time drinking coffee and wine with my friend, Helen, who left me in Melbourne, what seems like a lifetime ago. Oh, and my imaginary friend flies back to Australia tomorrow. After successfully selling our Renault Kangoo (so sad!) he is on a four day epic journey home. Exciting stuff! Looking forward to two weeks of regaining confidence on rock, and more importantly, enjoying life!
I managed to unsuccessfully blog about Christmas in Poland, Fontainebleau, Switzerland and Round Two of Spain, but oh well. It was all AWESOME. How’s that for being succinct.
Quote of last weekend:
“Take that” KP while falling on Spankin’ the Monkey Bars at Kindergarden.
Dre.
My new life as a home renovator.
Roo at Stapylton.
Sunset from Centinal Cave.
- How was your trip?
- What are your plans now?
- What is it like being home?
How do you have small talk over such questions? “Trip was good. Don’t have plans. Being home is nice”. But really, there is so much mumbo jumbo going on in my head right now!
I had grand plans for when I would return. I would settle in for a week or so. Do some easy routes. Then I would activate crush mode, crushing everything in the Grampians and Arapiles. In addition to being turbo, I would be earning huge wads of cash through some unknown brilliant scheme- saving for my next massive road trip. I would be so happy! Climbing in perfect crisp conditions. Earning tonnes of money. Seeing my friends. Sleeping in my own bed.
Ah. But alas, this was not the case.
Job was nothing. I still have not discovered how to find a job flexible enough for me to climb when I want. Long story short- I got on the dole. Or “Newstart Allowance” would be its politically correct name. Very depressing moment in my life, queuing up in the line at Centrelink. But, yay! Money while looking for jobs, which I was going to do anyway. Not without attending half a dozen interviews and filling out a whole trees worth of forms first though.
Seems like I lucked out on the job hunting last week. One of my best friends from University quit her job, and her replacement broke his foot! Bad for him, good for me! Temporary, casual job doing Exercise Rehab! Amazing. Only a couple hundred hours more and I will become an Accredited Exercise Physiologist. Now doesn’t that sound fancy compared to a dole bludger! Hopefully it can lead into a more permanent position. The work is interesting (most of the time), super close to my house, and everyone is lovely! It’s nice to have money put in my bank account for the first time in 14 months. Stress relief.
As for climbing. That has not been so good. I feel a bit tired. And my motivation fluctuates immensely from day to day. Sometimes I am so psyched I could burst from every orifice of my body! I think about climbing all day and my hands get all sweaty and my tummy gets all tingly! I have moments where I scare myself as to how obsessive this hobby is for me, and I think I should get something else in my life for balance. I just can’t help how much I love it. But then, after last weekend I was done. The more I thought about climbing, the more I beat myself up over how I am not satisfied with my climbing at the moment. Not technical enough. Not strong enough. Not fit enough. Bad headspace. Haven’t climbed or bouldered anything in over a month. Fail.
But then my sensible self (and KP) says- “Don’t worry. It will come”. I have started work so haven’t got out much. And I have had pretty terrible weather conditions (6 out of 7 wet days) at the Gramps (KP says I have become a conditions snob). People in Melbourne work so I have less partner options. I have had a cold on and off since returning (which makes me think I might need a break). And, reality is, I am not on a climbing trip anymore and I need to suck it up. Change my expectations. Make the most of the time I have....and go to the Blue Mountains for two weeks! Psyched!
So I am off tomorrow for two weeks of crimping on razors (so I’ve heard, I’ve never been). Let’s see if I can get one route done! If not, I am pretty sure I will successfully have a good time drinking coffee and wine with my friend, Helen, who left me in Melbourne, what seems like a lifetime ago. Oh, and my imaginary friend flies back to Australia tomorrow. After successfully selling our Renault Kangoo (so sad!) he is on a four day epic journey home. Exciting stuff! Looking forward to two weeks of regaining confidence on rock, and more importantly, enjoying life!
I managed to unsuccessfully blog about Christmas in Poland, Fontainebleau, Switzerland and Round Two of Spain, but oh well. It was all AWESOME. How’s that for being succinct.
Quote of last weekend:
“Take that” KP while falling on Spankin’ the Monkey Bars at Kindergarden.
Dre.
My new life as a home renovator.
Roo at Stapylton.
Sunset from Centinal Cave.
KP in awe of the light on Centinal Cave.
22 June 2010
Temper Tantrums
It must have been about this time last year that Joshy put Academia (31) to bed... The tick though, wasnt without It's dramas including a couple of falls from the final easy moves... Now I wasnt there there to witness the result of these gaylords, but I have it on good authority that it looked something like this...
Enjoy.
Enjoy.
21 June 2010
Coffee, Beer, Masterchef, Foosball, UFC, Sleep overs, and a little bit of bouldering
Ok, so this is a little late, but I've finally found the time and concentration ability to write a blog report. So, first thing first, some of you haven't heard from me for a while. Up until about 2 months ago, I was suffering from 50hr work weeks, very little sleep, and no climbing due to a chronic back injury that had me out of action since october last year. But things are now back on track and I've been quickly regaining some form, getting out on the boulders and having a good time.
A big weekend of action was had Queens birthday long weekend, where a whole crew crashed Arnies pad in Ararat for the the 3 day. Up to 10 people made themselves welcome to Simons hospitality, eating his food, drinking his coffee and wine, and respectfully throwing games of foosball to boost his already belated ego! It was also Joshs' birthday on the Saturday, so many drinks were had on the Friday night.
The Saturday found us in Andersons mucking about. Simon and the Raven both did Mexican Delight V9 quickly, and did Josh for the 3rd or 4th time. I still struggled. Philby put up a new problem he dubbed Hot Mama Vibes V6 which Raven and I flashed. It was hard enough for Simon to need a few attempts, while Joshy boy failed to haul himself up it, proclaiming once again that 'bouldering is shit'. Phil also smashed out Gasoline V8 later that day, while Josh and I (again, for the umpteenth time) fell off the top of Gripmaster V10.
Left: Pete 'The Raven' flashing Hot Mama Vibes V6.
Sunday was a late start of coffee and watching guys smash one another in the UFC. The highlight was Dan Henderson 'shutting up' Brit Michael Bisping in brutal style.
Later we headed to Hollow Mtn Cave where it was probably about 12:30pm before we started climbing. Josh and I tried American Pie V10 both with not much success. Joshy fell off the last moves of Ogre Thumb V9 and we both got fell off the end of The Devils Councilor V7. Not a good day for us.
Right: Alister knee scumming to no avail on The Devils Coulcilor V7.
Monday a slightly smaller crew head out in search of new boulders around Halls Gap. Pointed in the direction of an area dubbed 'Valley Of The Gods' we found ourselves in a jumble of house sized boulders of top quality. Warming up on some of the sweet highball faces, I went in search of some steeper lines. The 2 awesome bulges I found, brushed and and chalked quite quickly became too hard, and the more experienced duo of Simon and The Raven were called in. Simon sent them both, first with Village Of The Damned V9 and then unleashing the Old Man Power on Valley Of The Wads V11. Very impressive FA's.
Left: Arnie on the FA of Valley Of The Wads V11
Then it was time to high tail it back to Melbourne, stopping in Halls Gap for hot dogs and milkshakes, a quick play on the swing set, chasing butterflys, and a sad farewell to our man Omar, who was on a plane the next day back to work in WA for the next few months.
So a great weekend, hanging out with mates, having a laugh, a bit of climbing and heaps of fun.
Oh, and Arnie and I were both in agreeance while watching Masterchef on the Sunday night that it was hardly worth watching since Fiona got knocked out. She's smart (she has to be as a teacher), is hot, and can obioulsy cook! I want me one!
- TheBigAl
A big weekend of action was had Queens birthday long weekend, where a whole crew crashed Arnies pad in Ararat for the the 3 day. Up to 10 people made themselves welcome to Simons hospitality, eating his food, drinking his coffee and wine, and respectfully throwing games of foosball to boost his already belated ego! It was also Joshs' birthday on the Saturday, so many drinks were had on the Friday night.
The Saturday found us in Andersons mucking about. Simon and the Raven both did Mexican Delight V9 quickly, and did Josh for the 3rd or 4th time. I still struggled. Philby put up a new problem he dubbed Hot Mama Vibes V6 which Raven and I flashed. It was hard enough for Simon to need a few attempts, while Joshy boy failed to haul himself up it, proclaiming once again that 'bouldering is shit'. Phil also smashed out Gasoline V8 later that day, while Josh and I (again, for the umpteenth time) fell off the top of Gripmaster V10.Left: Pete 'The Raven' flashing Hot Mama Vibes V6.
Sunday was a late start of coffee and watching guys smash one another in the UFC. The highlight was Dan Henderson 'shutting up' Brit Michael Bisping in brutal style.
Later we headed to Hollow Mtn Cave where it was probably about 12:30pm before we started climbing. Josh and I tried American Pie V10 both with not much success. Joshy fell off the last moves of Ogre Thumb V9 and we both got fell off the end of The Devils Councilor V7. Not a good day for us.Right: Alister knee scumming to no avail on The Devils Coulcilor V7.
Monday a slightly smaller crew head out in search of new boulders around Halls Gap. Pointed in the direction of an area dubbed 'Valley Of The Gods' we found ourselves in a jumble of house sized boulders of top quality. Warming up on some of the sweet highball faces, I went in search of some steeper lines. The 2 awesome bulges I found, brushed and and chalked quite quickly became too hard, and the more experienced duo of Simon and The Raven were called in. Simon sent them both, first with Village Of The Damned V9 and then unleashing the Old Man Power on Valley Of The Wads V11. Very impressive FA's.Left: Arnie on the FA of Valley Of The Wads V11
Then it was time to high tail it back to Melbourne, stopping in Halls Gap for hot dogs and milkshakes, a quick play on the swing set, chasing butterflys, and a sad farewell to our man Omar, who was on a plane the next day back to work in WA for the next few months.
So a great weekend, hanging out with mates, having a laugh, a bit of climbing and heaps of fun.
Oh, and Arnie and I were both in agreeance while watching Masterchef on the Sunday night that it was hardly worth watching since Fiona got knocked out. She's smart (she has to be as a teacher), is hot, and can obioulsy cook! I want me one!- TheBigAl
07 June 2010
Comp kids
The Vic state titles were held on the weekend at bayside rock. Alby & Dre flew the flag for the a-team with dre coming out on top in the womens open and the big al finishing a very respectable 5th in the mens. Top work kids.
I was helping out with the setting, testing & grading on Friday, in preperation for the comp. Check out the time lapse of the gym being re-created for the comp.
I was helping out with the setting, testing & grading on Friday, in preperation for the comp. Check out the time lapse of the gym being re-created for the comp.
05 June 2010
Reunion
Howdy people,
As i'm sure you have noticed, it's been pretty quiet on the captains blog of late, but we do have an excuse. We have all been quite busy putting together a little short film, a hstorical doco of sorts which we hope will give you a bit of an idea of what the A-team got up to before we discovered the joys of climbing. The vid is below, hope you enjoy...
On the upside, now that our little side project is finished we are back and keen as! Last weekend Alby, Dre & I headed to the gramps to hit up the blocs. The weather was primo with tickage all round. We started at the snakepit on the classic Waiting in the Air (V7), super fun double dyno to a huge jug with a big fly if you miss the target hold. After a quick easy send, Alby jumped on again so I could get some pics and almost ate shit when his hand stared to slide of the jug... Thankfully he stuck it. Then we all got smashed on the hardest V6 in the world "Attack of the killer drop bears'.
Alby & Dre on waiting in the air (The look on Dre's face in classic!!)
Off to the Kindy, Alby & Dre smashed a quick send of the soft Hairbo Boulder (V7/9) which is a fun little two mover. I sent Spanking the Monkey Bars direct (V8), dre sorted the moves on the original bars and Alby made some great progress on 'So you think you can dance' (V12), watch this space as I reckon he will send soon.
Dre on Hairbo Boulder (V7/9)
Sunday was spent at Andersens knockin off a few classics and some of the toughest V4's going around. Alby sent a great looking highball 'The great discovery' (V7) and Dre pulled out all the stops to finally send the hardest V4 in the universe. A quick flash of Rise of the Machines (V7) for Dre to round out the day topped off a pretty successfull weekend.
Dre on Golden Oldie (V4)
Dre on Golden Oldie (V4)
Dre on Rodeo Girl (V8)
As i'm sure you have noticed, it's been pretty quiet on the captains blog of late, but we do have an excuse. We have all been quite busy putting together a little short film, a hstorical doco of sorts which we hope will give you a bit of an idea of what the A-team got up to before we discovered the joys of climbing. The vid is below, hope you enjoy...
On the upside, now that our little side project is finished we are back and keen as! Last weekend Alby, Dre & I headed to the gramps to hit up the blocs. The weather was primo with tickage all round. We started at the snakepit on the classic Waiting in the Air (V7), super fun double dyno to a huge jug with a big fly if you miss the target hold. After a quick easy send, Alby jumped on again so I could get some pics and almost ate shit when his hand stared to slide of the jug... Thankfully he stuck it. Then we all got smashed on the hardest V6 in the world "Attack of the killer drop bears'.
Alby & Dre on waiting in the air (The look on Dre's face in classic!!)
Off to the Kindy, Alby & Dre smashed a quick send of the soft Hairbo Boulder (V7/9) which is a fun little two mover. I sent Spanking the Monkey Bars direct (V8), dre sorted the moves on the original bars and Alby made some great progress on 'So you think you can dance' (V12), watch this space as I reckon he will send soon.
Dre on Hairbo Boulder (V7/9)
Sunday was spent at Andersens knockin off a few classics and some of the toughest V4's going around. Alby sent a great looking highball 'The great discovery' (V7) and Dre pulled out all the stops to finally send the hardest V4 in the universe. A quick flash of Rise of the Machines (V7) for Dre to round out the day topped off a pretty successfull weekend.
Dre on Golden Oldie (V4)
Dre on Golden Oldie (V4)
Dre on Rodeo Girl (V8)
15 April 2010
Wedding Bells
Ok this is a wierd time for a post...
but i'm sitting at Box Hill ED waiting for my partner to finish her paper work. I just plucked a piece of chicken the size of a golf ball from an 80 year old woman. saved the day you might say......well bit of a fluke, that said gotta make this quick.
last weekend we ditched climbing plans to get shot with rubber balls filled with paint. it was fucking awesome, and all in the name of Philby's bucks arvo/night. good performances by Big Al, Phil and I proved that the A-Team ain't just one pretty face and two ok ones (plus Dre - O/S). Dishonerable mention goes to KP who according to most, stood at the back hoping to be out of range, haha nice one dude all in good fun.
Phil - Hats off to you buddy, you're getting hitched to an awesome girl.
Alicia - you know he has small hands right????!!!!
So with that, no climbing this weekend, the wedding is Saturday. Phil will be away on honeymoon for a while, but Al and I will hold up the Melbourne contingent til then.
More grannys to put back to bed :)
-Grosey
but i'm sitting at Box Hill ED waiting for my partner to finish her paper work. I just plucked a piece of chicken the size of a golf ball from an 80 year old woman. saved the day you might say......well bit of a fluke, that said gotta make this quick.
last weekend we ditched climbing plans to get shot with rubber balls filled with paint. it was fucking awesome, and all in the name of Philby's bucks arvo/night. good performances by Big Al, Phil and I proved that the A-Team ain't just one pretty face and two ok ones (plus Dre - O/S). Dishonerable mention goes to KP who according to most, stood at the back hoping to be out of range, haha nice one dude all in good fun.
Phil - Hats off to you buddy, you're getting hitched to an awesome girl.
Alicia - you know he has small hands right????!!!!
So with that, no climbing this weekend, the wedding is Saturday. Phil will be away on honeymoon for a while, but Al and I will hold up the Melbourne contingent til then.
More grannys to put back to bed :)
-Grosey
10 April 2010
Catalunya
Catalunya is an area in the North of Spain. From my understanding, some Catalunyans prefer not to be referred to as ‘Spanish’ but ‘Catalan”. They have their own language. A separate regional flag. Some proud individuals claim it to be the economic king of Spain- keeping Spain out of debt. Shops still close in the middle of the day for Siesta, but in general, the Catalans are very hard working. Maybe even comparable to ze Germans. 10 hour work days are not uncommon.
If anyone is at all interested in clipping bolts, Catalunya is a must stop. The amount of immaculate rock in this area is unlimited. Terradets. Oliana. Santa Linya. Montgrony. Mont Sante. Margalef. Siurana. And so much more. I spent just under two months in the region of Catalunya. Three weeks post Kalymnos, then another three weeks post Christmas. Despite spending this amount of time there, I would say I attempted maybe a mere 0.0001% of routes. Every crag you go to, there will be locals, crushing everything. Spain as a population, has got to have the largest percentage of talented climbers in the world I have seen. Back in Oz, I see person after person in the gym, strong and fit, but never applying that ability to rock. In Spain, I see person after person at the crag, going bolt to bolt, and never letting go. Onsighting 8b is common occurrence. After some interrogation as to how they get so fit. The secret; climb rock. Any chance you get. Climb rock. Gym? Rarely ever. Maybe to get some power. Sure, the elite train concurrently- in the gym and rock. But, in general, get outside and have fun is my interpretation.
While in Kalymnos, I was lucky enough to have some local Catalan friends, Steve and Marieta keep watch of my Kangoo. This allowed me to fly from Barcelona to Athens, then catch a ferry from Athens to Kos, then another boat from Kos to Kalymnos. Epic journey but better than driving from Barcelona to Greece, paying tolls and fuel along the way, and paying to get the car back and forth on ferry.
On return to Barcelona, Super Steve picked Doug and I up from the airport and brought us to their home. They cooked a wonderful meal, and offered us their motorhome bed for the night. The next night, was a party! Spanish style ‘pica-pica’. The party was for Marieta’s father’s involvement and dedication to their mountaineering club. Everybody brought a dish of food, and ate and drank the night away. I, myself on the other hand, drank too much wine too quickly, crashed and burned, and fell asleep before dessert. Lame.
The following three weeks was spent climbing around Catalunya. It was an unusually cold winter this year and I really struggled during December. I hate the cold, and don’t cope very well at all. I don’t think a day went past where I didn’t think about catching the next flight home. The thought of laying around on the beach with all my friends was so much more appealing than sleeping in my car, waking up to frozen water bottes near my head. I would wake up in the morning, dreading the thought of getting out from my doona and two sleeping bag system, only to begin my layer system- thermal trousers, trousers, leg warmers, two thermals, windstopper, down jacket, scarf, beanie and gloves. Eating breakfast outside in temps of sub two, sometimes in snow, were not the ideal start to the day. Climbing at the crag was not feasible pre midday or post 4pm, because the rock would be ice any earlier, or dark any later. I found it almost impossible to warm up and get muscle fibres firing. My hands were numb. My feet numb. My shoulders and neck felt constantly tensed. Any time out of bed was spent shivering. Terrible for recovery. Terrible for trying to redpoint. Terrible for motivation. Terrible for my happiness. Terrible for my soul!
By some miracle, I did manage to do some climbing. There were some key south facing areas, if on a clear day, were bearble. “Perfect conditions” to some, not so perfect for others.
Terradets: Bruixes
An amazing ‘wave’ looking wall which is slightly overhanging and densely concentrated with about 50 routes from grade 7a-8b. Perfect for winter. This cliff is classic limestone, intermittently dispersed with tufas. Chose a grade, see if it’s free, get on, and chances are, it’s an amazing rockclimb! The climbing is generally pumpy and consistent, with cruxes, but not complete stoppers. So, if you are fit, go for the onsight! The tufa climbing is less three-dimensional than Rodellar and Kalymnos, but still a lot of fun.
I must admit, all routes I did on this wall were great, but no one line blew me away. There are still many more routes on my wish list here, but there are a few I managed to tick off. Oh, and I must do a “thanks” to the ‘Terradets Hotel’ café where I spent hour after hour, day after day using their free wifi. Heaters. And drinking good café con leché with pastries. Saviour from the cold during nights of -10 deg.
Jam session 7b onsight
Orient 7c onsight
Occident 7c+
Derribos Arias 7b+
Energia Positiva 7c+ flash
Latido del Miedo 8a (completed post Christmas)
Montgrony
After my first day at Montgrony I would have said “I blame Doug” for the visit. But now, I suppose I should say “I thank Doug”. Montgrony has a famous route called “Aromes du Montgrony”. Doug was told about it from a friend back home and at any chance he could talk about it, he would. Rumour was, if you like tufas, this is the ultimate. Montgrony is completely south facing and at 1300m; meaning damn cold on a cloudy winter’s day.
On the first day, the sun was out and there were about 30 people at the crag. One other girl was trying to redpoint it, while her friend was on a rope trying to take pictures. She looked strong. She was little, but strong, with ‘Fixe’ and ‘Tenaya” all over her- like a sponsored climber. Hmm. My chances were not looking good after she fell, and told me how this route ‘had cost [her] a lot”. I later found out it took her 10 attempts, despite being an 8b+ climber.
My first time up this route was epic! It took me what felt like hours to gain the mere 30m. The headspace I was in, was not very productive. This route is a powerful 8a+ with three distinct sections. The first third climbs the combination of three separate tufas. Unravelling an efficient sequence proved to be quite technical and unlikely. Before leading into the second third of the route, there is a ledge, where you get an awkward crouch/no hands rest. Soon after embarking the second third of climbing, a deep pump settles in up the pure pinching of a singular tufa, which widens as you gain height. The top of this tufa widens to an almost “body humping’ size in which you compress with your knees and palms. I hated this section. I went up this route once on the first day, unable to work past this section. I took fall, after fall, after fall.
On the second day, I managed to dog my way to the top twice. I was exhausted and sore and this route felt utterly impossible. I was able to complete the top third, which is tricky face climbing on good holds after a good, awkward rest. At the end of the day, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I really wanted to do the route, but at the same time I was hating it. It was so powerful! And ugly thrutching/humping. And hard!
So the next day, I found a swimming pool to do some laps and some stretching. To stay warm, I stayed in a café for a couple of hours, drinking coffee, eating pastries and playing chess. The temperature in the town of Ripoll was literally freezing! Terrible resting temps!
Doom day. I wanted to leave Montgrony as soon as possible. I wanted to go somewhere warmer because the forecast was to get arctic. This final cloudy day, Doug and I were the only people at the crag. I tried to warm up wearing a pair of thermal pants, trousers, woollen leg warmers, two thermal jumpers and two beanies. After a short rest, I decided to go for it. Confidence and morale was low on embarking the redpoint, but I managed to fight my way through the bottom two thirds. At the awkward rest before the final head wall, I shook out and shook out but was chronically pumped, with completely numb feet. I had to just go. I am so embarrassed at how badly I climbed this last section of rock- it was appalling! My numb feet kept popping off holds! So I was cutting loose and gripping on as hard as I possibly could. Then I would thrutch to the next hold, and not be able to get my feet up, and stuff the sequence up. Then my feet would blow again. Oh! I thought I was off for sure- each and every last move for the last eight metres. Miraculously, I clipped the chains and descended. On landing, Doug yelled at me for taking five years off his life.
Santa Linya
The cave where the strong men play. If I could climb 8b and up, I would love this place. But at the moment, unfortunately, I can’t. Maybe one day? On my first day here, I felt like such a bumbly! I was surrounded by the world’s best sport climbers, hiking up 8b+, 8c second go. Edu Marin almost sent his 9a link up three times in one day, and I was falling my way up a 7c+.
The climbing in the Santa Linya cave is solid and powerful. The 7a I was trying to warm up on has a dyno from a two finger pocket at the top. The cave is steep, with holds really far apart, and not a lot of good feet.
I have spent about four days climbing in this cave, and done one 7a, in terms of climbing. In terms of viewing, I saw Chris Sharma complete his long standing project, Neanderthal. It was quite surreal really. Everyone in the cave stopped what they were doing, and watched as Chris climbed one of the hardest sport routes in the world. The camera was rolling. The yelling was switched on. And he climbed to the top of the cave. It’s absolutely mind boggling as to how hard that route is, and how it is possible for the human body to accomplish such a feat.
At first I was disheartened as to how weak I felt. But in hindsight, I leave knowing I can get better. A lot better. I watched a lot of very strong, talented people do amazing things over those few days. It made me realise how high the standard is, and has inspired me to be a better climber. Reality is, I have a lot of work to do!
Oliana
For full value of this cliff, the ability to climb 8b is a minimum. However, it was rumoured there was a classic 8a, ‘Mishi’ definitely worth the drive for. So, the journey was made via an amazing bakery in Artesa, along with two English friends, Neil and Ruth.
I spent two days on Mishi, and for the first time ever, I needed to take ibuprofen to relieve the intense burning sensation of my fingertips! There is a bouldery crux start, leading into an almost vertical head wall of about 30m. Post crux, there was my own personal crux. A thrutchy, awkward, reachy sequence on sharp holds after a decent run out. I tried this section time and time again, loosing precious layer after layer of skin. Sheer pain and frustration!
Sending day involved a warm up and dogging session. Then a nap and laze about in the sun, until shade on the cliff at about 5pm. Then redpoint! Such relief!
Post Christmas Spain stint
After Christmas (I’ll blog this adventure seperately) I returned to Spain to get pumped. During the Christmas/New Year period, Doug and I Ieft our car with some new found friends- Team Britain; Tom, Lynne and Alan. This British trio live with about half a dozen chickens, three dogs- one giant Schnauzer; Harry, Ellie (who was on heat while we were there, meaning super snappy) and poor little Dillan. During our stay, they also acquired a stray cat- now named Baldrick. I like to call this humble abode- Farmville in Vilanova de la Sal.
Team Britain were kind enough to offer us a roof over our heads for the icy winter period of January. It was so amazing to have a house to go back to at the end of a climbing day, especially after my near breakdown over December. However, Farmville in Vilanova de la Sal is not perfect. Spanish houses are not built for winter- meaning insulation and heating are abysmal. This one house felt like a house with extension after extension. No natural light. No insulation. No heaters, just one fireplace, which even my 10 year old sister could have engineered better. I swear there were days it was colder in the house than out. Returning from a climbing day and starting a fire was epic. It was epic, but at least we could start a fire. And use a kitchen, instead of squat around an MSR in the dirt outside…
It was a good team system really. Team Britain would work late, and return at around 11pm some nights. So, in return for a roof, each night, Doug would start a fire and I would start the evening meal. So, come home time, the table would have freshly baked muffins, bread, soup, pumpkin pie, cupcakes... curry....pizza...apple crumble...much to Alan’s dismay (who was on a diet- as every second sport climber is).
Majority of crags in Catalunya were wet after the Christmas period, all bar one- Disblia. I spent every climbing day here, minus two in just over two weeks.
I felt pretty rusty for the first couple of days, after having three weeks off over Christmas. After a few routes, some fitness returned and I started to seige Patiasso al Pallaso. Patiasso is meant to be the classic 8a of the crag. There are a set of chains at a semi good hold, which gets a separate grade of 7c+, or you continue through a bouldery crux up a shield. This extra grade cost me numerous days, and so much frustration! I spent the most amount of time on this route, than any other route IN MY LIFE. No exaggeration. I didn’t think I would ever do this route. Each time I went up, I would only progress half a crux move, if that. I had no power endurance- I knew it was bad because each time I fell, I needed a couple minutes to try and catch my breath from holding it for so long. So, it was my last climbing day before I had to leave for Paris. I had just taken a rest day. I warmed up and felt like Super Woman. I was determined not to add another unfinished project to the Europe list- I sent Patiasso al Pallaso first go. Psyched. I then tried a 7c+ to the right of it and failed twice. Not so psyched. Didn’t feel like Super Woman for long...
My last night in Spain was spent at Farmville- sharing a good meal and good wine with Team Britain, plus Neil and Ruth- an English couple I met in Rodellar. It was another sad moment in the morning when I had to say farewell. I have come to dread these moments more and more. I enjoy so much meeting the amazing characters that have made this trip so memorable. Each and every person brings their own dynamic, as annoying or seemingly insignificant it may seem at the time, but when reflected on later, is fondly remembered and appreciated. As much as I enjoy the climbing in Spain, I appreciate the atmosphere and the wonderful people I have spent my time with more than any other destination. So, on departure for Fontainebleau, I borrowed a pad from Team Britain- certain I would return! Too scared to say “Good-bye” but rather, “see you later”.
Dre.
If anyone is at all interested in clipping bolts, Catalunya is a must stop. The amount of immaculate rock in this area is unlimited. Terradets. Oliana. Santa Linya. Montgrony. Mont Sante. Margalef. Siurana. And so much more. I spent just under two months in the region of Catalunya. Three weeks post Kalymnos, then another three weeks post Christmas. Despite spending this amount of time there, I would say I attempted maybe a mere 0.0001% of routes. Every crag you go to, there will be locals, crushing everything. Spain as a population, has got to have the largest percentage of talented climbers in the world I have seen. Back in Oz, I see person after person in the gym, strong and fit, but never applying that ability to rock. In Spain, I see person after person at the crag, going bolt to bolt, and never letting go. Onsighting 8b is common occurrence. After some interrogation as to how they get so fit. The secret; climb rock. Any chance you get. Climb rock. Gym? Rarely ever. Maybe to get some power. Sure, the elite train concurrently- in the gym and rock. But, in general, get outside and have fun is my interpretation.
While in Kalymnos, I was lucky enough to have some local Catalan friends, Steve and Marieta keep watch of my Kangoo. This allowed me to fly from Barcelona to Athens, then catch a ferry from Athens to Kos, then another boat from Kos to Kalymnos. Epic journey but better than driving from Barcelona to Greece, paying tolls and fuel along the way, and paying to get the car back and forth on ferry.
On return to Barcelona, Super Steve picked Doug and I up from the airport and brought us to their home. They cooked a wonderful meal, and offered us their motorhome bed for the night. The next night, was a party! Spanish style ‘pica-pica’. The party was for Marieta’s father’s involvement and dedication to their mountaineering club. Everybody brought a dish of food, and ate and drank the night away. I, myself on the other hand, drank too much wine too quickly, crashed and burned, and fell asleep before dessert. Lame.
The following three weeks was spent climbing around Catalunya. It was an unusually cold winter this year and I really struggled during December. I hate the cold, and don’t cope very well at all. I don’t think a day went past where I didn’t think about catching the next flight home. The thought of laying around on the beach with all my friends was so much more appealing than sleeping in my car, waking up to frozen water bottes near my head. I would wake up in the morning, dreading the thought of getting out from my doona and two sleeping bag system, only to begin my layer system- thermal trousers, trousers, leg warmers, two thermals, windstopper, down jacket, scarf, beanie and gloves. Eating breakfast outside in temps of sub two, sometimes in snow, were not the ideal start to the day. Climbing at the crag was not feasible pre midday or post 4pm, because the rock would be ice any earlier, or dark any later. I found it almost impossible to warm up and get muscle fibres firing. My hands were numb. My feet numb. My shoulders and neck felt constantly tensed. Any time out of bed was spent shivering. Terrible for recovery. Terrible for trying to redpoint. Terrible for motivation. Terrible for my happiness. Terrible for my soul!
By some miracle, I did manage to do some climbing. There were some key south facing areas, if on a clear day, were bearble. “Perfect conditions” to some, not so perfect for others.
Terradets: Bruixes
An amazing ‘wave’ looking wall which is slightly overhanging and densely concentrated with about 50 routes from grade 7a-8b. Perfect for winter. This cliff is classic limestone, intermittently dispersed with tufas. Chose a grade, see if it’s free, get on, and chances are, it’s an amazing rockclimb! The climbing is generally pumpy and consistent, with cruxes, but not complete stoppers. So, if you are fit, go for the onsight! The tufa climbing is less three-dimensional than Rodellar and Kalymnos, but still a lot of fun.
I must admit, all routes I did on this wall were great, but no one line blew me away. There are still many more routes on my wish list here, but there are a few I managed to tick off. Oh, and I must do a “thanks” to the ‘Terradets Hotel’ café where I spent hour after hour, day after day using their free wifi. Heaters. And drinking good café con leché with pastries. Saviour from the cold during nights of -10 deg.
Jam session 7b onsight
Orient 7c onsight
Occident 7c+
Derribos Arias 7b+
Energia Positiva 7c+ flash
Latido del Miedo 8a (completed post Christmas)
Montgrony
After my first day at Montgrony I would have said “I blame Doug” for the visit. But now, I suppose I should say “I thank Doug”. Montgrony has a famous route called “Aromes du Montgrony”. Doug was told about it from a friend back home and at any chance he could talk about it, he would. Rumour was, if you like tufas, this is the ultimate. Montgrony is completely south facing and at 1300m; meaning damn cold on a cloudy winter’s day.
On the first day, the sun was out and there were about 30 people at the crag. One other girl was trying to redpoint it, while her friend was on a rope trying to take pictures. She looked strong. She was little, but strong, with ‘Fixe’ and ‘Tenaya” all over her- like a sponsored climber. Hmm. My chances were not looking good after she fell, and told me how this route ‘had cost [her] a lot”. I later found out it took her 10 attempts, despite being an 8b+ climber.
My first time up this route was epic! It took me what felt like hours to gain the mere 30m. The headspace I was in, was not very productive. This route is a powerful 8a+ with three distinct sections. The first third climbs the combination of three separate tufas. Unravelling an efficient sequence proved to be quite technical and unlikely. Before leading into the second third of the route, there is a ledge, where you get an awkward crouch/no hands rest. Soon after embarking the second third of climbing, a deep pump settles in up the pure pinching of a singular tufa, which widens as you gain height. The top of this tufa widens to an almost “body humping’ size in which you compress with your knees and palms. I hated this section. I went up this route once on the first day, unable to work past this section. I took fall, after fall, after fall.
On the second day, I managed to dog my way to the top twice. I was exhausted and sore and this route felt utterly impossible. I was able to complete the top third, which is tricky face climbing on good holds after a good, awkward rest. At the end of the day, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I really wanted to do the route, but at the same time I was hating it. It was so powerful! And ugly thrutching/humping. And hard!
So the next day, I found a swimming pool to do some laps and some stretching. To stay warm, I stayed in a café for a couple of hours, drinking coffee, eating pastries and playing chess. The temperature in the town of Ripoll was literally freezing! Terrible resting temps!
Doom day. I wanted to leave Montgrony as soon as possible. I wanted to go somewhere warmer because the forecast was to get arctic. This final cloudy day, Doug and I were the only people at the crag. I tried to warm up wearing a pair of thermal pants, trousers, woollen leg warmers, two thermal jumpers and two beanies. After a short rest, I decided to go for it. Confidence and morale was low on embarking the redpoint, but I managed to fight my way through the bottom two thirds. At the awkward rest before the final head wall, I shook out and shook out but was chronically pumped, with completely numb feet. I had to just go. I am so embarrassed at how badly I climbed this last section of rock- it was appalling! My numb feet kept popping off holds! So I was cutting loose and gripping on as hard as I possibly could. Then I would thrutch to the next hold, and not be able to get my feet up, and stuff the sequence up. Then my feet would blow again. Oh! I thought I was off for sure- each and every last move for the last eight metres. Miraculously, I clipped the chains and descended. On landing, Doug yelled at me for taking five years off his life.
Santa Linya
The cave where the strong men play. If I could climb 8b and up, I would love this place. But at the moment, unfortunately, I can’t. Maybe one day? On my first day here, I felt like such a bumbly! I was surrounded by the world’s best sport climbers, hiking up 8b+, 8c second go. Edu Marin almost sent his 9a link up three times in one day, and I was falling my way up a 7c+.
The climbing in the Santa Linya cave is solid and powerful. The 7a I was trying to warm up on has a dyno from a two finger pocket at the top. The cave is steep, with holds really far apart, and not a lot of good feet.
I have spent about four days climbing in this cave, and done one 7a, in terms of climbing. In terms of viewing, I saw Chris Sharma complete his long standing project, Neanderthal. It was quite surreal really. Everyone in the cave stopped what they were doing, and watched as Chris climbed one of the hardest sport routes in the world. The camera was rolling. The yelling was switched on. And he climbed to the top of the cave. It’s absolutely mind boggling as to how hard that route is, and how it is possible for the human body to accomplish such a feat.
At first I was disheartened as to how weak I felt. But in hindsight, I leave knowing I can get better. A lot better. I watched a lot of very strong, talented people do amazing things over those few days. It made me realise how high the standard is, and has inspired me to be a better climber. Reality is, I have a lot of work to do!
Oliana
For full value of this cliff, the ability to climb 8b is a minimum. However, it was rumoured there was a classic 8a, ‘Mishi’ definitely worth the drive for. So, the journey was made via an amazing bakery in Artesa, along with two English friends, Neil and Ruth.
I spent two days on Mishi, and for the first time ever, I needed to take ibuprofen to relieve the intense burning sensation of my fingertips! There is a bouldery crux start, leading into an almost vertical head wall of about 30m. Post crux, there was my own personal crux. A thrutchy, awkward, reachy sequence on sharp holds after a decent run out. I tried this section time and time again, loosing precious layer after layer of skin. Sheer pain and frustration!
Sending day involved a warm up and dogging session. Then a nap and laze about in the sun, until shade on the cliff at about 5pm. Then redpoint! Such relief!
Post Christmas Spain stint
After Christmas (I’ll blog this adventure seperately) I returned to Spain to get pumped. During the Christmas/New Year period, Doug and I Ieft our car with some new found friends- Team Britain; Tom, Lynne and Alan. This British trio live with about half a dozen chickens, three dogs- one giant Schnauzer; Harry, Ellie (who was on heat while we were there, meaning super snappy) and poor little Dillan. During our stay, they also acquired a stray cat- now named Baldrick. I like to call this humble abode- Farmville in Vilanova de la Sal.
Team Britain were kind enough to offer us a roof over our heads for the icy winter period of January. It was so amazing to have a house to go back to at the end of a climbing day, especially after my near breakdown over December. However, Farmville in Vilanova de la Sal is not perfect. Spanish houses are not built for winter- meaning insulation and heating are abysmal. This one house felt like a house with extension after extension. No natural light. No insulation. No heaters, just one fireplace, which even my 10 year old sister could have engineered better. I swear there were days it was colder in the house than out. Returning from a climbing day and starting a fire was epic. It was epic, but at least we could start a fire. And use a kitchen, instead of squat around an MSR in the dirt outside…
It was a good team system really. Team Britain would work late, and return at around 11pm some nights. So, in return for a roof, each night, Doug would start a fire and I would start the evening meal. So, come home time, the table would have freshly baked muffins, bread, soup, pumpkin pie, cupcakes... curry....pizza...apple crumble...much to Alan’s dismay (who was on a diet- as every second sport climber is).
Majority of crags in Catalunya were wet after the Christmas period, all bar one- Disblia. I spent every climbing day here, minus two in just over two weeks.
I felt pretty rusty for the first couple of days, after having three weeks off over Christmas. After a few routes, some fitness returned and I started to seige Patiasso al Pallaso. Patiasso is meant to be the classic 8a of the crag. There are a set of chains at a semi good hold, which gets a separate grade of 7c+, or you continue through a bouldery crux up a shield. This extra grade cost me numerous days, and so much frustration! I spent the most amount of time on this route, than any other route IN MY LIFE. No exaggeration. I didn’t think I would ever do this route. Each time I went up, I would only progress half a crux move, if that. I had no power endurance- I knew it was bad because each time I fell, I needed a couple minutes to try and catch my breath from holding it for so long. So, it was my last climbing day before I had to leave for Paris. I had just taken a rest day. I warmed up and felt like Super Woman. I was determined not to add another unfinished project to the Europe list- I sent Patiasso al Pallaso first go. Psyched. I then tried a 7c+ to the right of it and failed twice. Not so psyched. Didn’t feel like Super Woman for long...
My last night in Spain was spent at Farmville- sharing a good meal and good wine with Team Britain, plus Neil and Ruth- an English couple I met in Rodellar. It was another sad moment in the morning when I had to say farewell. I have come to dread these moments more and more. I enjoy so much meeting the amazing characters that have made this trip so memorable. Each and every person brings their own dynamic, as annoying or seemingly insignificant it may seem at the time, but when reflected on later, is fondly remembered and appreciated. As much as I enjoy the climbing in Spain, I appreciate the atmosphere and the wonderful people I have spent my time with more than any other destination. So, on departure for Fontainebleau, I borrowed a pad from Team Britain- certain I would return! Too scared to say “Good-bye” but rather, “see you later”.
Dre.
22 March 2010
Weekend Roundup
Another weekend of more gramps action this time with Chris & the J-man Pipertron. Thwarted on the plans to get on serpentine by ze germans, we headed to millenium. Chris revisited Eat More Lard (31/8b) and made great progress, nailing the crux move a few times, and getting pretty close on the link. A freakin good effort considering the conditions.
Chris mid crux
Just missing it..
I decided to have a play on Breathing Gasoline (8a+/30), and went suprisingly well. Bar one move down low, I climbed comfortably through all the sections and did the crux easily 2nd pull. 2nd burn, I got some really good links. Super keen to get back on it, certainly one of the best hard routes ive been on, with amazing rock, awesome moves and a wicked crux... Its just Stellar! Some pics below courtesy of the J-man.
Moving into the 1st crux
The first crux
Top crux, truely awesome sequence
More to come!
Chris mid crux
Just missing it..
I decided to have a play on Breathing Gasoline (8a+/30), and went suprisingly well. Bar one move down low, I climbed comfortably through all the sections and did the crux easily 2nd pull. 2nd burn, I got some really good links. Super keen to get back on it, certainly one of the best hard routes ive been on, with amazing rock, awesome moves and a wicked crux... Its just Stellar! Some pics below courtesy of the J-man.
Moving into the 1st crux
The first crux
Top crux, truely awesome sequence
More to come!
15 March 2010
Kalymnos- “climbers paradise”
So it’s been another two months since my last post. This post is in regard to Kalymnos in October, four month ago. Excuse the lateness.
I think I came from the wrong kind of climbing trip to fully appreciate Kalymnos for what it has to offer. You must understand I worked for a year trying to save money for this trip- a trip I initially intended to be six months long. Not long after embarking on the dirtbag, travelling, climber’s lifestyle did I decide to extend my trip to a year. So my six month budgeting was stretched to one year.
Before I left home, Kalymnos was on my list- no doubt about it, I was going. I had heard the climbing is perfect, atmosphere is perfect, food is perfect, beaches perfect- pretty much everything was perfect. I am not a cynical person, but I would like to think realistic. So, this kind of hype made me quite dubious. I didn’t want to expect too much, in fear of disappointment, but at the same time couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear in anticipation, naturally right? Climbing on a Greek island? Sounds perfect in theory.
Well, after one month on this island, my consensus is that it’s not perfect. I was there from the end of October to the end of November- the tail end of peak climber’s season. It felt a little “Hollywood teen horror movie” ish toward the end. For example:
- When I arrived there were people everywhere. All shops, restaurants and bars oozing party vibes. One week after arrival, nine out of 10 shops/restaurants closed. Where did everyone go? And so suddenly? Back to the UK. Direct flights to the UK ended first week of November- might be a likely answer.
- Kalymnos has an airport, but its runway is very badly situated. Kalymnos is also quite renowned for crazy storms and strong gails. So if there is the slightest hint of a storm, or breeze, flights and boats get cancelled. And in result, people miss connecting flights. Stranded on the island until the storm passes.
- I paid in advance to stay at a large apartment block for three weeks. It was a money saving technique- pay cash up front, and you pay less overall. Great concept. However, during my stay I had regular power outages. This meant I couldn’t turn on lights, or cook anything on my electric stovetop. The cause of these outages? Who knows. Island mystery. Since handing over my big wad of cash to a greasy Greek lad in white Adidas trousers, I could never find him again. On my second last night, I entered my room to find an old oil lamp and a note saying, “You may not have power tonight. So sorry. Big problem for all the town”. I thought about asking the only other people staying there about it, but they had disappeared. I was sure they were meant to be there another week? I went for a walk that night, and it was quite obvious lights were on everywhere but in my room. On my last night, the water was also cut. Sorry, but couldn’t clean the bowls I ate muesli in for breakfast, and dinner! Bastardo.
- During these last few frustrating days, Doug was trying to make a phone call back home on a payphone. Who knows why, but the payphones weren’t working. No power. No payphones. Odd.
Majority of locals were friendly. But I got the vibe I wasn’t the shop owners “friend” like they kept calling out as I walked past. “We have good food” shouted from a restaurant owner induced a “laughing out loud” moment because this was the one place I was warned of serving “good food with complimentary gastro”. Very Thailand-esk.
There are small kiosks all around Massouri. My theory is, the weirder the owner, the cheaper the food. If you want normal service- you pay more. Eg. Milk prices
Shop with morbidly obese, filthy, drooling, falls-asleep-while-serving-you-man: 1.10€
Shop with slick haired, super tidy, doesn’t-stop-talking, “buy from me, not big supermarkets, because I support the climbing community” man: 1.20€
Shop with modest greek lady: 1.40€
Supermarket in Pothia: 1€ + 1€ for a bus ticket.
Scooters- creators of the noise pollution that is killing Kalymnos.
I have never held such large disdain towards motor vehicles until my time on Kalymnos. This island is small, with 80% of crags within walking distance from the majority of accommodation for climbers. I always thought climbers were generally an environmentally conscious crew of peeps. Enjoy the climbing for the scenery. Be out in the fresh air. Get some exercise amongst Mother Nature’s playground. Blah blah. Sure, I am no angel with the amount of miles I cover driving to the Grampians, but where my patience stretches is when I see 20 scooters at the base of the Grande Grotto. Literally 1km from town. A leisurely 10 minute walk along a flat road. And if you have ever walked along a road with 20 scooters hurtling past, you would appreciate my level of hearing damage. I often mistook the approaching noise as the old local bus, but no. Scooter. And if I had a blindfold on, you would think the smell from that scooter were from a Bangkok pile up. Walking around Pothia seemed more dangerous to me than the misconceptions Europeans hold of the wild snakes and poisonous spiders out to get you in Australia.
Beaches- my biggest disappointment
My assumption is Kalymnos beaches are for postcards and summer only. “Pollution free beaches” claims the 35€ guidebook. It’s as though the council ensures the beaches are clean for the masses during summer, and then they go away on holiday and desert the place. As I went for a walk along the beach, I thought to myself, “wow- bins on the beach. That’s great”. Then realised this concept is completely counterproductive seeing as the bins clearly weren’t emptied on a regular basis. There was rubbish everywhere, overflowing out of the bin and into the water.
Kalymnos as a business
I don’t like it when I feel pressured by the people around me to spend money. Yea sure, I understand the whole economic crisis thing. Money makes the world go round stuff. But I have put myself in the “you are exempt from all normal social obligations” category for one year. Eg. I don’t have to pay 5€ a night to camp. I don’t need a new outfit every weekend. I don’t need to spend 50€ to have a good night out. I don’t need make-up. I don’t need to shower every day- only on rest days. I don’t need a hairdresser. I can cut my own hair with my cars side mirror...
So, when I arrived on Kalymnos it was all quite a shock to the system. I was spending 50€ a week in Rodellar. In total. Expenses were food and showers. That’s it. Then! On this island everything costs more. And it all added up quick. Accomodation. Occasional buses. Food from supermarkets. Eating out at restaurants. About 80% of the climbers ate out every night. Bam! 35€ in one day. I could see myself going home sooner than I hoped. I don’t know where the rumour came from, but I was often told it was almost the same price to buy food to cook from the small shops at Masouri, compared to eating out at a restaurant. Maybe it was comparable financially. But those deep fried honey covered dough balls were not helping my muffin tops over my harness.
“Holiday Grading”
I hate this term. I screw my face up to anyone who utters these words. Every time I mentioned Kalymnos, it was bound to be followed by “Oh, you’ll love the holiday grading!” In fact, I hate all debates of ‘soft’ or ‘hard’ for the grade routes. Grades for routes are on a continuum. And are circumstantial for every person and every day. Tall. Short. Crimpy. Slopey. Pumpy. Bouldery. Steep. Slab. Crack. Pockets. Then conditions! Cold. Hot. Humid. Sun. Shade. Rain. What is soft for you, might be hard for me. What is hard for you, might be easy for me. Why do people think it’s cool to say everything is ‘soft’. Does saying things are soft give the impression that you are a better climber? So often I have come across walking contradictions. I see a climber fall, and fall and absolutely struggle up a route, to then hear them claim it is soft. Despite it being several grades below their RP limit. Bizarre.
So, before I even embarked on my first route on this island I expected everything to be ‘soft’. Not a good mindset to be in when on an island where the grading is as inconsistent as the Melbourne train system. I onsighted and flashed my highest grades, but also got shut down on a 6c and 7a, which were damn hard. My theory is the crags have been developed from such a vast range of climbers from all over the world, therefore different styles and standard of grades. This in effect, brings about different difficulty perceptions and large grade discrepancies. So my advice, ignore the grade, just be prepared to get pumped.
I lost psych two thirds of my way into the trip. I was running out of routes I was keen on. I wanted something different. I was getting sick of pure endurance routes on tufas after a month in Rodellar and Kalymnos. The process of finding good rests and recovering was getting tedious. All routes in the Grande Grotto were epic endurance journeys. I flashed Aegialis (7c). On the same day, onsighted Priopos (7c). A week later I spent one hour onsighting Fun du Chichunne (8a). This route weaves its way through the steep roof of the Grande Grotto, consisting of several tricky pumpy sequences intermingled with knee bar rests and no hands rests while standing on tufas. Amazingly fun route! On my last climbing day I flashed Zawinal Syndicate (7c), completing a fall free combo in the cave!
Gaia was the complete opposite of anything I have got on this trip. It’s short and hard! Eight bolts long- two of which I skip while trying to redpoint. No rests. Difficult clips. Hard to chalk up. Pure 8b power endurance. Initially I got on to just try the moves and get some power. But after the second session I could do all the moves and decided this would be my project for Kalymnos! If I do it, cool. If not, cool too. But I decided to give it a good go. Good training either way! Day four I did it in one sit. But I soon discovered one sit makes a big difference on a power endurance route. Again, no send in my final days, but one day, I’ll go back and send. I’ll do some bouldering circuit training and achieve what seems utterly impossible at the moment...maybe.
Kalymnos is a very luxurious crag. You stay in a nice apartment as opposed to the dirt. You can shower (in salt water) morning, afternoon and night. If it’s too hot, you can swim in the Mediterranean. You don’t have to cook in the dark at the end of a long day, you can sit and click your fingers in a nice restaurant for reasonable prices. You can walk (or scooter) to a crag and find arrows and signs everywhere. Route names painted in blue below every route. If you’re lucky, you’ll even find the crag name written on the ground. According to the guidebook, every route is world class. “Musical” or three stars are the average standard. If you don’t find anything you fancy, go to the tourism office and they will supply you with free bolts, a drill to create your own masterpiece and instructions. Perfect right? Depends what you are in to.
Dre.
P.S. Bakery in Pothia- best baklava in the world. A must visit! Get the chocolate cake too. If you go frequently enough, you might get a free piece! ;)
I think I came from the wrong kind of climbing trip to fully appreciate Kalymnos for what it has to offer. You must understand I worked for a year trying to save money for this trip- a trip I initially intended to be six months long. Not long after embarking on the dirtbag, travelling, climber’s lifestyle did I decide to extend my trip to a year. So my six month budgeting was stretched to one year.
Before I left home, Kalymnos was on my list- no doubt about it, I was going. I had heard the climbing is perfect, atmosphere is perfect, food is perfect, beaches perfect- pretty much everything was perfect. I am not a cynical person, but I would like to think realistic. So, this kind of hype made me quite dubious. I didn’t want to expect too much, in fear of disappointment, but at the same time couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear in anticipation, naturally right? Climbing on a Greek island? Sounds perfect in theory.
Well, after one month on this island, my consensus is that it’s not perfect. I was there from the end of October to the end of November- the tail end of peak climber’s season. It felt a little “Hollywood teen horror movie” ish toward the end. For example:
- When I arrived there were people everywhere. All shops, restaurants and bars oozing party vibes. One week after arrival, nine out of 10 shops/restaurants closed. Where did everyone go? And so suddenly? Back to the UK. Direct flights to the UK ended first week of November- might be a likely answer.
- Kalymnos has an airport, but its runway is very badly situated. Kalymnos is also quite renowned for crazy storms and strong gails. So if there is the slightest hint of a storm, or breeze, flights and boats get cancelled. And in result, people miss connecting flights. Stranded on the island until the storm passes.
- I paid in advance to stay at a large apartment block for three weeks. It was a money saving technique- pay cash up front, and you pay less overall. Great concept. However, during my stay I had regular power outages. This meant I couldn’t turn on lights, or cook anything on my electric stovetop. The cause of these outages? Who knows. Island mystery. Since handing over my big wad of cash to a greasy Greek lad in white Adidas trousers, I could never find him again. On my second last night, I entered my room to find an old oil lamp and a note saying, “You may not have power tonight. So sorry. Big problem for all the town”. I thought about asking the only other people staying there about it, but they had disappeared. I was sure they were meant to be there another week? I went for a walk that night, and it was quite obvious lights were on everywhere but in my room. On my last night, the water was also cut. Sorry, but couldn’t clean the bowls I ate muesli in for breakfast, and dinner! Bastardo.
- During these last few frustrating days, Doug was trying to make a phone call back home on a payphone. Who knows why, but the payphones weren’t working. No power. No payphones. Odd.
Majority of locals were friendly. But I got the vibe I wasn’t the shop owners “friend” like they kept calling out as I walked past. “We have good food” shouted from a restaurant owner induced a “laughing out loud” moment because this was the one place I was warned of serving “good food with complimentary gastro”. Very Thailand-esk.
There are small kiosks all around Massouri. My theory is, the weirder the owner, the cheaper the food. If you want normal service- you pay more. Eg. Milk prices
Shop with morbidly obese, filthy, drooling, falls-asleep-while-serving-you-man: 1.10€
Shop with slick haired, super tidy, doesn’t-stop-talking, “buy from me, not big supermarkets, because I support the climbing community” man: 1.20€
Shop with modest greek lady: 1.40€
Supermarket in Pothia: 1€ + 1€ for a bus ticket.
Scooters- creators of the noise pollution that is killing Kalymnos.
I have never held such large disdain towards motor vehicles until my time on Kalymnos. This island is small, with 80% of crags within walking distance from the majority of accommodation for climbers. I always thought climbers were generally an environmentally conscious crew of peeps. Enjoy the climbing for the scenery. Be out in the fresh air. Get some exercise amongst Mother Nature’s playground. Blah blah. Sure, I am no angel with the amount of miles I cover driving to the Grampians, but where my patience stretches is when I see 20 scooters at the base of the Grande Grotto. Literally 1km from town. A leisurely 10 minute walk along a flat road. And if you have ever walked along a road with 20 scooters hurtling past, you would appreciate my level of hearing damage. I often mistook the approaching noise as the old local bus, but no. Scooter. And if I had a blindfold on, you would think the smell from that scooter were from a Bangkok pile up. Walking around Pothia seemed more dangerous to me than the misconceptions Europeans hold of the wild snakes and poisonous spiders out to get you in Australia.
Beaches- my biggest disappointment
My assumption is Kalymnos beaches are for postcards and summer only. “Pollution free beaches” claims the 35€ guidebook. It’s as though the council ensures the beaches are clean for the masses during summer, and then they go away on holiday and desert the place. As I went for a walk along the beach, I thought to myself, “wow- bins on the beach. That’s great”. Then realised this concept is completely counterproductive seeing as the bins clearly weren’t emptied on a regular basis. There was rubbish everywhere, overflowing out of the bin and into the water.
Kalymnos as a business
I don’t like it when I feel pressured by the people around me to spend money. Yea sure, I understand the whole economic crisis thing. Money makes the world go round stuff. But I have put myself in the “you are exempt from all normal social obligations” category for one year. Eg. I don’t have to pay 5€ a night to camp. I don’t need a new outfit every weekend. I don’t need to spend 50€ to have a good night out. I don’t need make-up. I don’t need to shower every day- only on rest days. I don’t need a hairdresser. I can cut my own hair with my cars side mirror...
So, when I arrived on Kalymnos it was all quite a shock to the system. I was spending 50€ a week in Rodellar. In total. Expenses were food and showers. That’s it. Then! On this island everything costs more. And it all added up quick. Accomodation. Occasional buses. Food from supermarkets. Eating out at restaurants. About 80% of the climbers ate out every night. Bam! 35€ in one day. I could see myself going home sooner than I hoped. I don’t know where the rumour came from, but I was often told it was almost the same price to buy food to cook from the small shops at Masouri, compared to eating out at a restaurant. Maybe it was comparable financially. But those deep fried honey covered dough balls were not helping my muffin tops over my harness.
“Holiday Grading”
I hate this term. I screw my face up to anyone who utters these words. Every time I mentioned Kalymnos, it was bound to be followed by “Oh, you’ll love the holiday grading!” In fact, I hate all debates of ‘soft’ or ‘hard’ for the grade routes. Grades for routes are on a continuum. And are circumstantial for every person and every day. Tall. Short. Crimpy. Slopey. Pumpy. Bouldery. Steep. Slab. Crack. Pockets. Then conditions! Cold. Hot. Humid. Sun. Shade. Rain. What is soft for you, might be hard for me. What is hard for you, might be easy for me. Why do people think it’s cool to say everything is ‘soft’. Does saying things are soft give the impression that you are a better climber? So often I have come across walking contradictions. I see a climber fall, and fall and absolutely struggle up a route, to then hear them claim it is soft. Despite it being several grades below their RP limit. Bizarre.
So, before I even embarked on my first route on this island I expected everything to be ‘soft’. Not a good mindset to be in when on an island where the grading is as inconsistent as the Melbourne train system. I onsighted and flashed my highest grades, but also got shut down on a 6c and 7a, which were damn hard. My theory is the crags have been developed from such a vast range of climbers from all over the world, therefore different styles and standard of grades. This in effect, brings about different difficulty perceptions and large grade discrepancies. So my advice, ignore the grade, just be prepared to get pumped.
I lost psych two thirds of my way into the trip. I was running out of routes I was keen on. I wanted something different. I was getting sick of pure endurance routes on tufas after a month in Rodellar and Kalymnos. The process of finding good rests and recovering was getting tedious. All routes in the Grande Grotto were epic endurance journeys. I flashed Aegialis (7c). On the same day, onsighted Priopos (7c). A week later I spent one hour onsighting Fun du Chichunne (8a). This route weaves its way through the steep roof of the Grande Grotto, consisting of several tricky pumpy sequences intermingled with knee bar rests and no hands rests while standing on tufas. Amazingly fun route! On my last climbing day I flashed Zawinal Syndicate (7c), completing a fall free combo in the cave!
Gaia was the complete opposite of anything I have got on this trip. It’s short and hard! Eight bolts long- two of which I skip while trying to redpoint. No rests. Difficult clips. Hard to chalk up. Pure 8b power endurance. Initially I got on to just try the moves and get some power. But after the second session I could do all the moves and decided this would be my project for Kalymnos! If I do it, cool. If not, cool too. But I decided to give it a good go. Good training either way! Day four I did it in one sit. But I soon discovered one sit makes a big difference on a power endurance route. Again, no send in my final days, but one day, I’ll go back and send. I’ll do some bouldering circuit training and achieve what seems utterly impossible at the moment...maybe.
Kalymnos is a very luxurious crag. You stay in a nice apartment as opposed to the dirt. You can shower (in salt water) morning, afternoon and night. If it’s too hot, you can swim in the Mediterranean. You don’t have to cook in the dark at the end of a long day, you can sit and click your fingers in a nice restaurant for reasonable prices. You can walk (or scooter) to a crag and find arrows and signs everywhere. Route names painted in blue below every route. If you’re lucky, you’ll even find the crag name written on the ground. According to the guidebook, every route is world class. “Musical” or three stars are the average standard. If you don’t find anything you fancy, go to the tourism office and they will supply you with free bolts, a drill to create your own masterpiece and instructions. Perfect right? Depends what you are in to.
Dre.
P.S. Bakery in Pothia- best baklava in the world. A must visit! Get the chocolate cake too. If you go frequently enough, you might get a free piece! ;)
12 March 2010
The future of the A-team
Just a quick note of congratulations to A-team friend Chris 'Tickles' Ticknor & his lovely wife Alison on the arrvival of their new baby girl Nora. Rumor has it that upon entering the big wide world, the little tike cranked out a few one armers and was heard to ask 'where the blocs at?" Needless to say, i'm sure we can expect big things in the future. :)
All the best guys.
All the best guys.
08 March 2010
Allez Allez
Well it’s been a long time since my last update, mostly due to the fact that I spent most of last year on the bench with an assortment of injuries. That said, there has actually been quite a bit happening over the past few months, so I thought a bit of an update may be in order.
Joshy & KP hit Thailand over new year’s chasing sunshine, beach babes, buckets of booze & soft ticks. Joshy had a fairly productive trip and managed to knock over a few classics in between bouts of partying & extreme Tonsai-tummy, the highlight being a buzzer beater ascent of Jai Dum (8b/31) a couple of days before he had to leave. He also managed to knock of a bunch of other classics including Art & Sport, Phet Mak, Sex Power, Elephant and a heap more.
The red duck (KP) was also in fine form, although finding it hard to get motivated early on, he managed to get his shit together and jump on board the send train. Highlights included starting fights with crazy Norwegians’, an ascent of Art & Sport (8a+/30) and the multipitch classic Kitty Porn (7c+/28). The big fella is now hitting the Grampians for the next 4-5 weeks, before heading off to Europe for an extended trip.
It seems I may be finally escaping team injured. My climbing year started well. I had a great 10 day trip to araps with leash, staying with the Mofo's and a hoard of others. The plan was to take it pretty easy and test out the old body, do some mileage and try to start getting back into the game. Leash & I did a bunch of classic trad routes in the 16-21 bracket that I’d never done before. It reminded me how much the mount can bring you back down to Earth when your peakin off your head on something well below your limit.
After a few days I decided to jump on a few harder things. I ended up doing the classic Wackford Squeers (26) and Power Corruption & Lies (27) 2nd shot. At the end of the trip the body was feeling good and I was as psyched as I have ever been.
Me on Wackford Squeers (26)
After getting back from the mount I started training again, bouldering and running laps at the hanger. I had a few days in Sydney bouldering at a few of the gyms up there and was starting to feel as strong as I ever had. About 3 weeks back, Chris and I headed to the gramps and had a great weekend despite the 35 degree temps. We checked out the Tower, which is a really nice spot. Great rock which is remarkably similar to Taipan, and shade all day. Chris and I both did See the Light (22) and Terror of the Sea (25) before jumping on Super Mario Brothers Direct (27). A very bouldering start leads to awesome pumping on big jugs. Unfortunately we both pitched off just before the victory jugs , but we will certainly be back for the send, of what I think is one of the best 27’s in the Grampians.
Last weekend Chris & I headed away again, this time hitting Araps on Saturday so Chris could jump back on Lord of the Rings (31). He had an awesome burn, getting through to a new highpoint and making some good links, I have no doubt he will send it soon. I strolled over to Mysteries wall and flashed the absolutely fantastic Blue Eyed & Blonde (24), which must rank as one of my favourite 24’s anywhere. I also sent a very cool bouldery route to its right called Historic Events (26) 3rd shot. All in all a very fun day. The following day we headed to millennium so I could jump back on my long-time project, Nomads Sains & Indians (29). My intention was just to have a refresher on it to see where I was at fitness wise, but after warming up by putting the draws on; I sent it packing 1st shot of the day... Needless to say I was pretty psyched! I capped of my weekend by doing the nails ard’ Velocity of Time (26) putting the draws on. It was a great weekend for me, not just because I sent a few routes, but to finally feel like I’m starting to be able to climb to my potential without injury is a great feeling.
Nomads!!! :)
Looking forward to hitting Taipan and Muline over the next few weeks! Cant wait!This rad shot by Vera Warmbrumm has me psyched for muline!
Joshy & KP hit Thailand over new year’s chasing sunshine, beach babes, buckets of booze & soft ticks. Joshy had a fairly productive trip and managed to knock over a few classics in between bouts of partying & extreme Tonsai-tummy, the highlight being a buzzer beater ascent of Jai Dum (8b/31) a couple of days before he had to leave. He also managed to knock of a bunch of other classics including Art & Sport, Phet Mak, Sex Power, Elephant and a heap more.
The red duck (KP) was also in fine form, although finding it hard to get motivated early on, he managed to get his shit together and jump on board the send train. Highlights included starting fights with crazy Norwegians’, an ascent of Art & Sport (8a+/30) and the multipitch classic Kitty Porn (7c+/28). The big fella is now hitting the Grampians for the next 4-5 weeks, before heading off to Europe for an extended trip.
It seems I may be finally escaping team injured. My climbing year started well. I had a great 10 day trip to araps with leash, staying with the Mofo's and a hoard of others. The plan was to take it pretty easy and test out the old body, do some mileage and try to start getting back into the game. Leash & I did a bunch of classic trad routes in the 16-21 bracket that I’d never done before. It reminded me how much the mount can bring you back down to Earth when your peakin off your head on something well below your limit.
After a few days I decided to jump on a few harder things. I ended up doing the classic Wackford Squeers (26) and Power Corruption & Lies (27) 2nd shot. At the end of the trip the body was feeling good and I was as psyched as I have ever been.
Me on Wackford Squeers (26)
After getting back from the mount I started training again, bouldering and running laps at the hanger. I had a few days in Sydney bouldering at a few of the gyms up there and was starting to feel as strong as I ever had. About 3 weeks back, Chris and I headed to the gramps and had a great weekend despite the 35 degree temps. We checked out the Tower, which is a really nice spot. Great rock which is remarkably similar to Taipan, and shade all day. Chris and I both did See the Light (22) and Terror of the Sea (25) before jumping on Super Mario Brothers Direct (27). A very bouldering start leads to awesome pumping on big jugs. Unfortunately we both pitched off just before the victory jugs , but we will certainly be back for the send, of what I think is one of the best 27’s in the Grampians.
Last weekend Chris & I headed away again, this time hitting Araps on Saturday so Chris could jump back on Lord of the Rings (31). He had an awesome burn, getting through to a new highpoint and making some good links, I have no doubt he will send it soon. I strolled over to Mysteries wall and flashed the absolutely fantastic Blue Eyed & Blonde (24), which must rank as one of my favourite 24’s anywhere. I also sent a very cool bouldery route to its right called Historic Events (26) 3rd shot. All in all a very fun day. The following day we headed to millennium so I could jump back on my long-time project, Nomads Sains & Indians (29). My intention was just to have a refresher on it to see where I was at fitness wise, but after warming up by putting the draws on; I sent it packing 1st shot of the day... Needless to say I was pretty psyched! I capped of my weekend by doing the nails ard’ Velocity of Time (26) putting the draws on. It was a great weekend for me, not just because I sent a few routes, but to finally feel like I’m starting to be able to climb to my potential without injury is a great feeling.
Nomads!!! :)
Looking forward to hitting Taipan and Muline over the next few weeks! Cant wait!This rad shot by Vera Warmbrumm has me psyched for muline!
12 January 2010
Near Death Experience.
I forgot about a story. It’s a sensitive topic for me. But it’s a story in which I would like to think could save lives! Or could at least get a few laughs.
From my experience I have realised all Europeans are terrified of the snakes, spiders, sharks and crocodiles in Australia. If a survey were conducted, I believe Tourism Australia would find this is a major misconception and factor for why people don’t visit- they just don’t want to die. They have this image in their head that spiders will crawl all over their bed. Crocodiles will roll them around their bath tub. Sharks are lurking around the beach shores ready to swallow them whole. Snakes are bursting out of toilets ready to bite them in the arse.
So, what about the warnings for Australians travelling to Europe?
I was camping in Spain, Rodellar at the massive carpark for vans/motorhomes. This area is great to sleep at, but can get very busy. One night, I needed to use the ladies room. There is a vast area to find privacy; you just have to be careful where you go. It’s not a forest. There are random walls designating pathways in all directions. It’s unlikely, but someone might walk past. Then there are prickly shrubs. I don’t know why, but 90% of shrubs in Europe have thorns. So, with a few factors to consider I went for a walk. I wore my dimming headtorch and marched into a random direction away from the carpark. I jumped a few walls and walked around a few trees and bushes. Then a few more. Then, as I started to head back to where I thought was the carpark, I realised I was kind of lost. I knew the general direction of the carpark but to get there, there was a ramp. I kept coming across a prickly vine covered wall. So as far as the best route- no idea. I don’t have the best sense of direction at the best of times, but all the wall jumping and shrubbery, and most of all, darkness, left me feeling pretty foolish. The wearing of thongs and shorts weren’t helping.
Being lost was fine- eventually I knew I would make it back. A few scratches here and there didn’t bother me at all. But! When I started to hear GRUNTS! From more than one direction. And SCRUFFLING of HOOVES on NEARBY GRASS! That’s when my heart stopped. It was a typical ‘fight or flight’ response. I stood so still. My heart pounding out of my chest. Whole body shaking. Mind racing. Thinking, “which direction should you run!? How the hell are you going to climb a prickly vine covered wall in HAVIANAS! You are going to die in Spain. By a wild boar. Find a weapon!” So I found two rocks- smaller than a football. Pretty lame huh!? My idea was, if they started to charge, I would smack it right in between its eyes- knock it out! Run to safety and live to tell the tale.
I stood there, transfixed. Listening to the grunts. Then I decided I had to move. I had to get out of there. I was so close to breaking down and yelling out. Maybe Doug would realise I had been gone an unusually long time and come to the rescue? But the humiliation! So I was on a mission. Find car! I walked and walked with those two rocks for what felt like forever. I was too scared to turn around towards the grunting but not really sure if I was going in the right direction. I have no concept of how long I was gone for, but eventually I found that damned carpark.
I walked up to the Kangoo and crawled in to lie down. I found Doug playing Quiz games on my ipod. My hero. After some calming down- realising I wasn’t going to die in Spain by a wild boar, I proceeded to tell Doug my tale. I couldn’t help but notice the smirk he was trying to hide on his face. It’s stupid I know. And you can all point and laugh at my craziness! But I have several sources confirming the presence of wild bores there. Whether you are special enough to get lost or not, that’s another issue all together. Just don’t let it be you. You’ve been warned.
Dre.
P.S. I am currently in Poland. Waiting for my third flight I've booked and paid for to get out of this country. Fingers crossed everybody!
From my experience I have realised all Europeans are terrified of the snakes, spiders, sharks and crocodiles in Australia. If a survey were conducted, I believe Tourism Australia would find this is a major misconception and factor for why people don’t visit- they just don’t want to die. They have this image in their head that spiders will crawl all over their bed. Crocodiles will roll them around their bath tub. Sharks are lurking around the beach shores ready to swallow them whole. Snakes are bursting out of toilets ready to bite them in the arse.
So, what about the warnings for Australians travelling to Europe?
I was camping in Spain, Rodellar at the massive carpark for vans/motorhomes. This area is great to sleep at, but can get very busy. One night, I needed to use the ladies room. There is a vast area to find privacy; you just have to be careful where you go. It’s not a forest. There are random walls designating pathways in all directions. It’s unlikely, but someone might walk past. Then there are prickly shrubs. I don’t know why, but 90% of shrubs in Europe have thorns. So, with a few factors to consider I went for a walk. I wore my dimming headtorch and marched into a random direction away from the carpark. I jumped a few walls and walked around a few trees and bushes. Then a few more. Then, as I started to head back to where I thought was the carpark, I realised I was kind of lost. I knew the general direction of the carpark but to get there, there was a ramp. I kept coming across a prickly vine covered wall. So as far as the best route- no idea. I don’t have the best sense of direction at the best of times, but all the wall jumping and shrubbery, and most of all, darkness, left me feeling pretty foolish. The wearing of thongs and shorts weren’t helping.
Being lost was fine- eventually I knew I would make it back. A few scratches here and there didn’t bother me at all. But! When I started to hear GRUNTS! From more than one direction. And SCRUFFLING of HOOVES on NEARBY GRASS! That’s when my heart stopped. It was a typical ‘fight or flight’ response. I stood so still. My heart pounding out of my chest. Whole body shaking. Mind racing. Thinking, “which direction should you run!? How the hell are you going to climb a prickly vine covered wall in HAVIANAS! You are going to die in Spain. By a wild boar. Find a weapon!” So I found two rocks- smaller than a football. Pretty lame huh!? My idea was, if they started to charge, I would smack it right in between its eyes- knock it out! Run to safety and live to tell the tale.
I stood there, transfixed. Listening to the grunts. Then I decided I had to move. I had to get out of there. I was so close to breaking down and yelling out. Maybe Doug would realise I had been gone an unusually long time and come to the rescue? But the humiliation! So I was on a mission. Find car! I walked and walked with those two rocks for what felt like forever. I was too scared to turn around towards the grunting but not really sure if I was going in the right direction. I have no concept of how long I was gone for, but eventually I found that damned carpark.
I walked up to the Kangoo and crawled in to lie down. I found Doug playing Quiz games on my ipod. My hero. After some calming down- realising I wasn’t going to die in Spain by a wild boar, I proceeded to tell Doug my tale. I couldn’t help but notice the smirk he was trying to hide on his face. It’s stupid I know. And you can all point and laugh at my craziness! But I have several sources confirming the presence of wild bores there. Whether you are special enough to get lost or not, that’s another issue all together. Just don’t let it be you. You’ve been warned.
Dre.
P.S. I am currently in Poland. Waiting for my third flight I've booked and paid for to get out of this country. Fingers crossed everybody!
07 January 2010
Half empty or Half full?
It is the first week of the year, and I feel obliged to attempt to fulfil my duties as the Captainette of Crush to complete a summary of the last three months. I have let a lot of time pass, and the difficult process of telling the story of my travels has had the snowball effect. My laziness has been largely exacerbated by the negative celcius temperatures I have been enduring living in my car. So please, show mercy.
I find myself trying to gather my thoughts on all that has happened since the last blog entry, and have been completely overwhelmed because as you may have noticed by my last entry- I don’t do ‘brief overview’ very well. But, I think this time, I have to try and compress my last three months, as much as it pains me, for the benefit of any sucker readers.
According to my withering two years out of university brain- I ended my last thesis at Ceuse, typing away in a hotel in Zurich with Mum-Hah. After ten days of eating, sleeping, reading, sightseeing and photo-snapping, I got a train back to my car in France. From there, I was on a mission to get to sunny Spain.
As Doug and I were driving towards the France/Spain border in the Alps, it was going dark, hilly and too much for our little Kangoo. Kangoo’s engine got too hot so in result we pulled over and slept among the Alps and woke to priceless views in the morning. Very “Mastercard Ad”-esk. As we started driving, it was gloomy, rainy, misty and damn cold. But Doug remained high spirited- “it’s always sunny in Spain!” he proclaimed. And as we entered the tunnel with our windscreen wipers on, and saw the “Espana” sign on the other side, straight ahead was a blue sky and shining sun! A few kms further I attempted to get a breakfast tan.
Further down the road we crossed a bridge, and I pointed and laughed in amazement. A man in uniform was standing on the bridge we had just crossed, holding a very large automatic weapon! Not much further down the road, we came to a halt by 10 police cars. After some translation problems, we were asked “where go you?” As calmly as I could with a gun a metre away from me I quavered a “Rodellar- escalar?” The police man then searched the car for possible Bask refugees we were trying to smuggle in among the sleeping bags. After failing to find anything but dirty clothes, we were waved on to escalar at Rodellar!
Rodellar is a climbing paradise- a valley of limestone caves and cliffs about an hour from Huesca. After walking around on the first day, I decided I needed a month there. I found myself standing under routes, back to the wall, looking at routes that ventured out as far horizontally as they did vertically. “Wake up abs!” was to be a common statement I would proclaim in the proceding month. After consulting some local friends and given tips from friends back home, I had a little ticklist.
Acravita (8a) was one of the first routes I wanted to ‘project’ in Las Ventanas. It’s about 45 deg overhanging and involves skipping a clip during the crux; which is a power endurance sequence finalised with a dyno. This is then topped out with some small crimpy holds that veer left, away from the anchor to the right. On the first day I got shut down, I couldn’t do all the moves. I felt so weak, sitting at every bolt. However, somehow, second go on the second day, it all came together. Woohoo.
What’s next? I had a few projects going at the same time during my month in Rodellar. My tactics were dependent on weather, time, how tired I felt, how inspired I was and belay options. In hindsight, I don’t advise this approach.
My main goal of Rodellar was to do Kings of Metal. Some have been so bold as to claim it’s the best sport route in the world. It is graded 8a+, about 35m long in length, and gets steeper as you get higher, maybe? So much so, that after lowering off, I needed a tea break to walk back to the base of the cliff. The first half is very three dimensional, following a combination of tufas. It gets a separate grade of 7c+ and ends at a bomber knee bar, which is essentially a no hands rest below a small roof. The second half of the route involves large moves on holds that aren’t that small, but just far apart. And steep. This route took me 10 goes over five climbing days. It doesn’t sound like much on reflection, but during the process it felt epic. This route is very hard and physical for me. I could only go up it twice a day, and initially I woke up sore the day after. I was tempted to give up after the first two days, but then decided- if I do just this one route this month, I would be happy. I fell very close to the top twice on the third and fourth day. Then on the fifth, came uncomfortably close to falling again, but fought my way through the pump that I am still recovering from today. The combination of ‘allez allez, venga! Come on! A muerte!” cheering from all around Ventanas, and the dread of having to climb this route again, kept me fighting.
So remember when I said I would be happy if I only did Kings of Metal? Well I lied. I tried a few more routes concurrently and following. Two main routes stand out- Gracias Fina and Espirit Rebelle.
I tried Gracias fina from my second week all the way through to my last day. It is an 8a at Pince Sans Rire, not quite as steep as Las Ventanas, but still steep and pumpy. I lost count of how many attempts I had over how many days. I have come to the conclusion that I didn’t take this route seriously enough. I came really close on my second day, so then decided I didn’t need to be ultra fresh to do this route. I left it for days where I was too tired to try Kings of Metal or my new project, Espirit Rebelle. Alas, in hindsight, I needed to be fresh. The closest I came was one hot, humid evening, third go, where I pushed through the crux, made it to the saviour undercut jug before the easy to the top bit. As I set off, my footer blew, my undercut jugs were deemed useless and I took a massive whipper from skipping clips.
Espirit Rebelle broke my heart. It is a (concensus is, soft) 8b in Las Ventanas. It follows tufas all the way through the cave, to finish up an easier cornery section to the top. It’s fun and really powerful for me. The moves are big and it’s damn steep. Initially, I tried it as a ‘training route’ because Doug was projecting it. I thought I would just get some power up and see if I could do the moves. Anyway, I could do the moves. On the third day I linked through the crux, and was doing the final moves to the no hands rest when I blew it. Damn. Then the rain came. And it brought friends. Damn again. So much rain! I was meant to leave Rodellar in two days. So I rested the next day, and walked up on my final climbing day to find it soaking wet, and dripping from at least every third hold. I had a teary, like an immature child.
As a consolation prize, I thought I could do Gracias Fina after doing El Delfin. I tried El Delfin (7c+) in my first week but at the end of the day. So on this final doom day, I went up El Delfin twice, and couldn’t work through the boulder crux at the end. Oh well. I went off to Gracias Fina, and couldn’t even do the crux. The heart wasn’t there; I had it set on Esprit Rebelle. I felt cheated and disappointed. I got so angry, and so sad, and cursed at myself a lot. My time at Rodellar felt utterly wasted. So much energy spent on routes I never completed, but should have. A cup half empty feeling. And yet, maybe it’s not so bad? In this one month I climbed my hardest route ever, a grade I could have never comprehended ever doing. I climbed some of the world’s best sport routes and onsighted some classics. I acquired some really good kneebar techniques and fitness. I met some beautifully friendly people. Was reunited with friends from Ceuse. Laughed till my stomach hurt around massive risotto cook ups. I got to watch world class climbers all around me every day, making me realise I am just a kid in a playground, still on the bottom rungs of the ladder, struggling my way to the top of a massive roller coaster ride.
The next day I woke up in my Kangoo to pouring rain. I ran to the refuge, ordered a cappuccino and a freshly baked chocolate croissant. I then sat in contentment while everyone around me ummed and ahhed over where to go, while I myself knew I would be in Kalymnos in 48 hours. Doug drove the car away from Rodellar while I sat in the passenger seat awfully close to hurling from car sickness. Thanks Rodellar!
After a day city touring around Barcelona and drinking hot chocolates, I slowly made my way to the so called ‘climbers paradise’- Kalymnos. I got a lot to say about that little island so I will begin my next entry there. I got a feeling I’ve failed at “compressing”, but if I “categorise” maybe that will do?
Till next time...
Dre.
I find myself trying to gather my thoughts on all that has happened since the last blog entry, and have been completely overwhelmed because as you may have noticed by my last entry- I don’t do ‘brief overview’ very well. But, I think this time, I have to try and compress my last three months, as much as it pains me, for the benefit of any sucker readers.
According to my withering two years out of university brain- I ended my last thesis at Ceuse, typing away in a hotel in Zurich with Mum-Hah. After ten days of eating, sleeping, reading, sightseeing and photo-snapping, I got a train back to my car in France. From there, I was on a mission to get to sunny Spain.
As Doug and I were driving towards the France/Spain border in the Alps, it was going dark, hilly and too much for our little Kangoo. Kangoo’s engine got too hot so in result we pulled over and slept among the Alps and woke to priceless views in the morning. Very “Mastercard Ad”-esk. As we started driving, it was gloomy, rainy, misty and damn cold. But Doug remained high spirited- “it’s always sunny in Spain!” he proclaimed. And as we entered the tunnel with our windscreen wipers on, and saw the “Espana” sign on the other side, straight ahead was a blue sky and shining sun! A few kms further I attempted to get a breakfast tan.
Further down the road we crossed a bridge, and I pointed and laughed in amazement. A man in uniform was standing on the bridge we had just crossed, holding a very large automatic weapon! Not much further down the road, we came to a halt by 10 police cars. After some translation problems, we were asked “where go you?” As calmly as I could with a gun a metre away from me I quavered a “Rodellar- escalar?” The police man then searched the car for possible Bask refugees we were trying to smuggle in among the sleeping bags. After failing to find anything but dirty clothes, we were waved on to escalar at Rodellar!
Rodellar is a climbing paradise- a valley of limestone caves and cliffs about an hour from Huesca. After walking around on the first day, I decided I needed a month there. I found myself standing under routes, back to the wall, looking at routes that ventured out as far horizontally as they did vertically. “Wake up abs!” was to be a common statement I would proclaim in the proceding month. After consulting some local friends and given tips from friends back home, I had a little ticklist.
Acravita (8a) was one of the first routes I wanted to ‘project’ in Las Ventanas. It’s about 45 deg overhanging and involves skipping a clip during the crux; which is a power endurance sequence finalised with a dyno. This is then topped out with some small crimpy holds that veer left, away from the anchor to the right. On the first day I got shut down, I couldn’t do all the moves. I felt so weak, sitting at every bolt. However, somehow, second go on the second day, it all came together. Woohoo.
What’s next? I had a few projects going at the same time during my month in Rodellar. My tactics were dependent on weather, time, how tired I felt, how inspired I was and belay options. In hindsight, I don’t advise this approach.
My main goal of Rodellar was to do Kings of Metal. Some have been so bold as to claim it’s the best sport route in the world. It is graded 8a+, about 35m long in length, and gets steeper as you get higher, maybe? So much so, that after lowering off, I needed a tea break to walk back to the base of the cliff. The first half is very three dimensional, following a combination of tufas. It gets a separate grade of 7c+ and ends at a bomber knee bar, which is essentially a no hands rest below a small roof. The second half of the route involves large moves on holds that aren’t that small, but just far apart. And steep. This route took me 10 goes over five climbing days. It doesn’t sound like much on reflection, but during the process it felt epic. This route is very hard and physical for me. I could only go up it twice a day, and initially I woke up sore the day after. I was tempted to give up after the first two days, but then decided- if I do just this one route this month, I would be happy. I fell very close to the top twice on the third and fourth day. Then on the fifth, came uncomfortably close to falling again, but fought my way through the pump that I am still recovering from today. The combination of ‘allez allez, venga! Come on! A muerte!” cheering from all around Ventanas, and the dread of having to climb this route again, kept me fighting.
So remember when I said I would be happy if I only did Kings of Metal? Well I lied. I tried a few more routes concurrently and following. Two main routes stand out- Gracias Fina and Espirit Rebelle.
I tried Gracias fina from my second week all the way through to my last day. It is an 8a at Pince Sans Rire, not quite as steep as Las Ventanas, but still steep and pumpy. I lost count of how many attempts I had over how many days. I have come to the conclusion that I didn’t take this route seriously enough. I came really close on my second day, so then decided I didn’t need to be ultra fresh to do this route. I left it for days where I was too tired to try Kings of Metal or my new project, Espirit Rebelle. Alas, in hindsight, I needed to be fresh. The closest I came was one hot, humid evening, third go, where I pushed through the crux, made it to the saviour undercut jug before the easy to the top bit. As I set off, my footer blew, my undercut jugs were deemed useless and I took a massive whipper from skipping clips.
Espirit Rebelle broke my heart. It is a (concensus is, soft) 8b in Las Ventanas. It follows tufas all the way through the cave, to finish up an easier cornery section to the top. It’s fun and really powerful for me. The moves are big and it’s damn steep. Initially, I tried it as a ‘training route’ because Doug was projecting it. I thought I would just get some power up and see if I could do the moves. Anyway, I could do the moves. On the third day I linked through the crux, and was doing the final moves to the no hands rest when I blew it. Damn. Then the rain came. And it brought friends. Damn again. So much rain! I was meant to leave Rodellar in two days. So I rested the next day, and walked up on my final climbing day to find it soaking wet, and dripping from at least every third hold. I had a teary, like an immature child.
As a consolation prize, I thought I could do Gracias Fina after doing El Delfin. I tried El Delfin (7c+) in my first week but at the end of the day. So on this final doom day, I went up El Delfin twice, and couldn’t work through the boulder crux at the end. Oh well. I went off to Gracias Fina, and couldn’t even do the crux. The heart wasn’t there; I had it set on Esprit Rebelle. I felt cheated and disappointed. I got so angry, and so sad, and cursed at myself a lot. My time at Rodellar felt utterly wasted. So much energy spent on routes I never completed, but should have. A cup half empty feeling. And yet, maybe it’s not so bad? In this one month I climbed my hardest route ever, a grade I could have never comprehended ever doing. I climbed some of the world’s best sport routes and onsighted some classics. I acquired some really good kneebar techniques and fitness. I met some beautifully friendly people. Was reunited with friends from Ceuse. Laughed till my stomach hurt around massive risotto cook ups. I got to watch world class climbers all around me every day, making me realise I am just a kid in a playground, still on the bottom rungs of the ladder, struggling my way to the top of a massive roller coaster ride.
The next day I woke up in my Kangoo to pouring rain. I ran to the refuge, ordered a cappuccino and a freshly baked chocolate croissant. I then sat in contentment while everyone around me ummed and ahhed over where to go, while I myself knew I would be in Kalymnos in 48 hours. Doug drove the car away from Rodellar while I sat in the passenger seat awfully close to hurling from car sickness. Thanks Rodellar!
After a day city touring around Barcelona and drinking hot chocolates, I slowly made my way to the so called ‘climbers paradise’- Kalymnos. I got a lot to say about that little island so I will begin my next entry there. I got a feeling I’ve failed at “compressing”, but if I “categorise” maybe that will do?
Till next time...
Dre.
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