Happy 2014!

Happy new year from TGM!

So Scotland is only a week away.

What!?

Oh christ...

I have an ungodly amount of preparation to do before I go. I've got to buy the bits of my kit that I'm still missing, I have to confirm accomodation, get updated on conditions in the Glencoe area, sort maps, plan plans with Charlie. Oh, and do essays, finish my dissertation draft and work. Time isn't exactly on my side...

Oh well, if this whole affair wasn't expensive and stressful and time consuming it wouldn't be worth it would it!?


Oh, you might also notice that the blog has gone under a slight re-brand. Now that we've been around for about a year, I thought it was time for a bit of an injection of maturity and experience into this whole affair. Things are going to change a little over the next few weeks, so if you're someone who doesn't handle that well...find a coping mechanism. I want to introduce a weekly 'feature' piece too; I'm undecided on what subject, but it sounds cool and seems to be what real-world bloggers do. Plus it'd force me to update more often...

Photos from A Cloudy Place

So Charlie (finally) got around to uploading his, much nicer, far sharper and better composed pictures from our visit to Snowdonia in November.

Enjoy!

Enjoying a warming beverage after the first section of climbing

On the second section of Tryfan, looking down into the Ogwyn valley. That rucksack is as heavy as it looks.

The beautiful view off the west face of Tryfan

The cannon - it feels far more exposed than it looks. Honest.

And my gazelle-like descent.

Hanging out over the Ogywn valley - a rare shot without cloud

"Gorillas in the mist" on Crib Goch

 In news, we have a confirmed date for Scotland - we head up into the great white north on the 11th of January. Kit lists, accomodation booking, sourcing guidebooks and working out plans are in full swing, as is indoor practice. Things are getting better, what with 2/3 sessions a week and I'm back up to confidently climbing 6a+ on a top rope and leading 5+, so we should be in good shape for some proper mountaineering!

See you all soon

Fun in the Bouldering Field

Went to the Westway today, after a long, long time away (it was almost a month before we went to wales that I was last there). Everything is weak on me; grip strength, technique, movement, arm strength. I got pumped trying to climb an easy 4+ lead for gods sake. I just felt stupid and embaressed, especially as I'm meant to have my first taste of winter mountaineering in January!

We spent most of our time in the bouldering field; I was hardly impressive but any training is training, right? Up and down climbs, dynos and big moves can only serve to do me well, but I was really, really bad. It does show that I need to get back to the wall once or twice a week. Maybe I should start to train in the gym too; campus boards and four-finger pullups can be seen in my future...I just need to find the time, honestly. Well we'll see what the future holds for me.

Did have a bit of fun though; quite a nice little bouldering problem that I spent a lot of time on but never quite managed to complete. I decided to film myself to see where I was going wrong, but I still didn't complete. Then Charlie decided to school me.

And totally rub it in.

I'm going to have loads of time to blog over Christmas, so look forward to loads of stuff. I should be off to Scotland in the second week of January, so you'll see all the buildup for that, which I'm sure will leave you all absolutely fascinated and enthralled. All three of you who read this.

See you soon!

Wales, again! Tryfan and Crib Goch

Impromptu weekend away in Wales? Oh yes please!

This isn't going to be a long one, I'm somewhat busy at the moment, but here it is!

The beautiful view of the Ogwyn Valley from about halfway up the North East face of Tryfan

Tryfan
After enjoying a lovely full cooked breakfast at the YHA, me and Charlie set off in the car for the rolling green-and-grey of the Ogwyn Valley, and specifically Tryfan and the Glyder Fach ridge. Initially we started up the North Face path, which if I'm honest was sloggy, steep and painful with our 15-20kg loads. I was slow and extremely tired, slightly annoyed at my own lack of fitness (especially since I've spent so much time in the gym recently...) which meant Charlie kept having to stop to wait for me. Eventually, after about a kilometer on the flat and 150m of elevation change, we moved into the fun bit of the day: Scrambling.

Charlie showing the world how it's done

Now, for those of you that don't know, Scrambling is something of a halfway point between pure rock climbing and walking. The terrain is more of a collection of small boulders with decent hand and foot holds than a flat rock face, and is relatively easy to ascend with the correct gear - you don't even really need ropes or protection unless you move onto really exposed stuff. It was my first taste of pure, graded scrambling (although we didn't follow a specific 'route'...Tryfan doesn't really have any) and if I'm honest it's damn fun. Yes there were some bits that were rather committing, and more than once I was thankful for the almost physics-bending grip and stiffness of my Mammut Monolith B2 boots, and I was slow and the weight and size of my rucksack made some of it rather sketchy but it was absolutely awesome to play mountaineer and actually climb a mountain.



After a slightly embarrassing event involving a dropped piece of tent, we made the summit both taking the time to jump Adam and Eve, the two crowning rocks on Tryfan's summit, and then set on the descent back down towards the Far South Peak and Glyder Fach. Originally the plan had been to climb up to the summit of Glyder Fach, then descend  towards Llyn Bochlwyd where we would set up camp. However, when we got down to Bwlch Tryfan, the mini-valley between the two peaks, we decided we were too lazy, too cold and the car was far too close to really justify staying out. So we made the executive decision to go back into Llanberis, find somewhere to sleep, grab a pint and some food and enjoy a comfortable night.

Crossing the complex of fords on the descent from
Tryfan, in blowing wind. Sketchy.

Charlie on Adam & Eve. We were the only people out of
around 20 at the summit to do it. Frankly I was dissappointed.

In the end, after the YHA we'd stayed in on Friday night confirmed they were full, we found a home in Pete's Eats. Anyone familiar with Llanberis over the past three decades will be familiar with Pete's, on the Llanberis high street. Theirs is a nirvana for tired, hungry climbers and walkers - free wifi, free charging, massive plates of food and (if you need it) a cheap, comfy bed for the night or even the simple pleasure of a hot shower. Honestly can't recommend them enough, and will even go as far as to give them a shout out here; if you ever need anything in Llanberis (even if it's just advice on a good route to take), they'll help you out. Find them at: www.petes-eats.co.uk


Crib Goch
Sunday was going to be shorter - we had a 6 hour drive home ahead of us, so instead of doing a massive loop, we decided to take on the infamous ridgeline of Crib Goch.

After another long slog of a walk-in, exhausting and sweaty in heavy mountain boots and windproofs we made it over the granny stopper at the bottom of the route, and I headed off to break my Crib virginity.The scrambling was technical and relentless, although the shedding of 90% of the weight from our packs certainly helped to make the moves easier. We weren't alone on the ridgeline, but it did somewhat concern the pair of us the quality and suitability of the kit and expertise of the groups we met. Whilst you may be able to do the Crib in sturdy trainers and a light jacket in a dry, clear summer's day, but on a windy, cold and damp November afternoon it's downright dangerous.

Unfortunately the ridgeline of Crib Goch itself doesn't really lend itself to intense conversation, so I was left alone for a lot of the time, but I've found that it's quite nice. Just being alone with the conditions, the mountain and your own thoughts is a beautiful thing. Every now and then I'd catch up with Charlie, we'd enjoy a cup of tea and then set back off along the seemingly never-ending ridge. We'd be held up now and then as we negotiated an overtake over another group, but mainly for me was just the faint, yellow bobbing shape at the edge of my vision and a uniformly grey skybox. The cloud was low and the conditions were windy and cold (but thankfully largely dry) so there wasn't a huge amount to see, but it was fun, committing and technical. There isn't really much else to say really, the pictures do that for me!

(I'm still waiting for Charlie to send me the pictures from Day 2, as my phone had died. Pester him for me, would you? There's a good reader.)

We decided to not do the Snowdon summit; it's something we've both done before and we were hardly going to see anything special, so it was time for the long (but rather quick, it seemed) decent down the miner's path to the car, a well-deserved bottle of lucozade and the long slog home, to the realities of life.

It's always sad to leave the mountains, but it just means I'll have to go back for more. And soon.

Now all I have to look forward to is a Scottish winter. Oh wait...that's going to be amazing. Psyched!

Froggatt 2: The Return (Part Eins)

So finally I have returned to the crag. For a weekend no more sweating it out in an overly-warm climbing gym, clipping into pre-placed quickdraws - it's time to rack up and get ready to place some gear, folks.

OK, so I'm writing this well after the event, but I'm a busy man y'know!

This return to Froggatt has been planned pretty much from the time we went there last, what with so many routes un-tested and some real classics missed out on. The main reason we missed them was due to a severe lack of a handbook - we were really just guessing at routes, climbing what we could see (which, if you think about it, is the same kind of climbing as Froggatt's pioneers). Another issue the last time was that unfortunately, due to circumstances, Charlie had to lead-hog. It was my first time on the rock and no one was about to let me lead on the rock - it's so much different to leading indoors they may as well be different worlds!

This time the group was larger; in addition to me and Charlie we had Tom (a previous appearer on this blog) and Camilla, one of Tom's friends for whom Froggatt was only the third time she had climbed - ever! All other things aside it takes courage to be attempting seconding and abseiling on only your third go out with ropes and harness!

Fun in the Sun(set Slab)

Super-Ultra-Fun stuff!

Our arrival at the rock face proper was not a leisurely descent to set up a couple of top-ropes; no, it was for some reason we decided to build an abseil. Hey, no protests here, I think they are awesome. I gave Charlie a hand setting it up just the same as a top-rope, then got Cam to go down for her first abseil - as expected she was a little shaky but seemed to enjoy it. Once everyone else was down (including Tom who is by no means the world's biggest fan of abseils) I had to make my way down. As I was last man down I had the fun experience of abseiling fully loaded with a 15kg pack. It may not sound like much but it's a significant shift of your center of gravity!

Once down we decided to leave the rope in place and use it to climb the very convenient Sunset Crack as a warmup. First time up I made a little bit of a fool of myself, getting caught in sections I really shouldn't be struggling over, but on my repeat soon after I did the entire thing cleanly and smoothly in a shade over a minute. With everyone warmed up it was time to head on to the main focus of the four-hour journey to get there: leading.

Charlie wedging his way up the oversized crack of North Climb 

With the warm up out of the way, Charlie and Tom decided they wanted a crack at a relatively easy lead to North Climb, just to the right of the famous Fatal Attraction and the infamous Science Friction. It's a route me and Charlie did last time we were there, but then we'd top-roped it; I had used it as my first practice 'lead' with the safety line of a top rope. It was largely an uneventful climb, well made by both leader and follower, but the exciting part was to come.
blow out their respective cobwebs;



Tom somehow got it into his head on an abseil down the face of Fatal Attraction that it would be a doable climb, so on a top-rope they attempted it; neither got much closer to the top-out than about six feet. On my attempt I barely got six feet off the ground - it's a seriously difficult climb, well deserving of the E3 grade it's been given. Embarrassingly Camilla got far further than me, but in her defence she's small and strong - my power-to-weight is far, far worse!

On the Terrace

Charlie attempting the 5a to the right of Terrace Crack

After a bite to eat and the promised black weather stayed off, we decided to do a  reapeat of mine and Charlie's favourite route the last time we were there; the slabby, think-y Terrace Crack. Although only a HVS in the guide, it's a very enjoyable climb with a confidence-pushing few moves that puts you out over an overhang into nothingness. As before it was a cracking climb - I seconded again, as I did last time, but in much more pleasant conditions than May, which left me feeling like a much better overall experience.

Camilla just before the overhang on
Terrace Crack

Tom and Camilla also got a climb on the same route, but on her follow Camilla unfortunately suffered her first proper Crag Attack, freezing halfway up the climb and being unable to continue. It wasn't neither way on a rock face. It was quite a sobering experience, especially as me and Charlie discussed the possibility of having to build an abseil to attempt a rescue.
that she couldn't do it, more that she couldn't bring herself - the big, outward-pushing overhang at the start of the route sapped all her confidence. It's the first time I've seen a proper panic attack on a rock face - I've had my fair share of freezes and retreats, but I've never been able to go






Like and Ibex, Like an Ibex

The committing first move on Heather Wall
(image courtesy of Karabiner Climbing Club)

Having rescued Camilla from her freeze, we moved on. It was starting to get towards the end of the day, and possibly in hindsight we had been riding a wave of luck in that there had been no falls, none of the promised rain and no real problems on any of the climbs. Not ones that had put anyone at risk, that is. However, pumped and psyched as we were we decided to have a crack at the rather easy Heather Wall and use it as my first lead. Geared up and prepped, the start was, honestly, inauspicious; it was only when I was on the wall that I discovered that the first big move is in fact a 5a - harder than anything I have climbed outdoors. With that over and done with, all that was left was for me to climb the wide protected crack that forms the route. However, with maybe eight meters of the wall left, the heavens opened and the stone turned from warm, welcoming and grippy into a wet, frictionless slab that may as well have been polished concrete for all the grip it gave me.

Not being able to safely continue up and not wanting to leave gear in the wall, I now had to very slowly and carefully down-climb the sodden crack, jamming hands and feet and even suffering a couple of minor falls. Despite my relative terror and absolute certainty that I was about to fall and break a limb when I took out my last protection, Charlie, Tom and Camilla kept spirits up by abusing me in various badly-done foriegn accents, including an absolutely classic Russian/Spanish singsong that ended in the famous phrase "Like an Ibex".

With their support I got down, heart in hand and instantly stated that I was done for the day; I now needed to get into warm gear, get down to the pub and have some warm food. Still riding the adrenaline high I enjoyed some fish and chips, before returning to set up the tents on a rather precarious but atmospheric ledge. It was time to sleep to be ready for another day on the face.

Sympathetic is not a word Charlie identifies with

A short reflection

It's a busy weekend for me, but I've always got time to blog. I'll warn you, I'm in a wordy mood.

As I sit here on a Friday evening, unpacking my gear from a two-day training event with work on the hills and packing gear afresh for a 6am wake up to head back to Froggatt in the morning, a thought that has been plaguing me sneaks back into my head: "what makes me do this?"

Now don't worry; I'm not about to jack it all in, but it is an interesting question - why do I put myself through early wake ups, 40 hour weeks in a retail job that to be honest I'm not crazy about, punishing physical training, letting my other commitments fall by the wayside for a sport I only took up eight months ago? I mean, we all get that I do it because I enjoy it and it's fun, but what exactly is it that makes it fun? What makes climbing special?

On Wednesday I posed this question to Charlie, and in his normal way he came up with something succinct and witty; "I love the fact it's outdoors, it's freeing, it's a challenge and it's out of the ordinary." and to be honest that pretty much sums it up for me. It's not just the climbing, it's the periphery too; the build up, the fact it's an event to get to a rock face, the camaraderie, the friendship, the socialised elements of the whole affair. I will never understand people who wish to climb walls and mountains alone because I am a social animal; I do the sport because it's a team sport. It requires people to learn and work together to achieve goals, lean on each other's strengths and reinforce each other's weaknesses.

In most of his work, but specifically his book Dark Shadows Falling, Joe Simpson refers to an 'apprenticeship in the hills'. For me this is exactly why I climb. It's a challenging pursuit; you can't just pick up a harness and be good, unless you're one of the lucky few who have that unnatural knack for rock. It takes time, patience, practice and a lot of training to be a good climber. It requires specialist equipment by the bucket load (which feeds my unnatural gear fetish) and is formed of a small, tightly knit clique of people with a strong sense of ethics and community. Some of you may know my background is Armed Forces; to a large extent the climbing community is much like the Army. If you don't know, it's hard to pretend and be believed by someone who does. Those who are serving or have served their apprenticeship on the hills know their place and their role, and the pecking order is unbreakable. Cheating isn't something that's really a problem; kudos is earned by doing it right, not doing it easy.

I'm only at the very start of my apprenticeship; there is still so, so much more for me to learn about. The ability to judge weather conditions and their application on climbing, the ability to know when to retreat and when to press on, to learn about snow, ice, mountains and summit pushes. Some people never finish their apprenticeships, always remaining in a learning stage. I can honestly say that if I was to never pass it, I'd be happy to learn my entire climbing career. I mean sure I'd like to be at the cutting edge, but this is real life. I want to do things because I enjoy them. No seven-summit peak bagging for me, no races to solo up the north face of the eiger. I want to do this because it's fun, and I want it to stay that way.

It is this that endears me so much to climbing; the fact it's special. The people who do it are a special, unique clique. The equipment is special. The experience of being halfway up a rock face, a rope below you, nothing but sky above and your own skill and technique being the only thing keeping you in one piece. It makes you feel alive; for me, I feel like I belong. It's worth the early wake ups, the missed nights out for this life. It's the feeling that as Simpson explains, turns a terrifying experience into a fun one in our memories; what, when following a difficult climb and a friend suggests another, prevents you running from the bar screaming bloody mary.

People may not necessarily understand this; I don't ask them to. Many people have and always will directly question why I want to do something like this; hopefully I can point them to this little article and it will go a little way to explain why I do something that I personally fully regard to be totally insane. No sane, logical person would look at a snow covered mountain face or smooth gritstone slab and go 'hey, that looks like fun'. More than likely they'd turn around, walk the other way until they hit the nearest pub.

I'll see you all soon; Froggatt beckons tomorrow. First leads. Should be fun.

Well...this sucks.

Had a climb today. Not a good one. Not a good one by any stretch of the imagination.

Unfortunately I think this is all caused by my visit to the US and the weeks that have followed; when over there I got lazy and fell back into old eating habits; I put on 14lbs in 3 weeks and honestly haven't really done anything about it. I've talked about it with Bailey but I keep being tempted by Two-for-Tuesdays and convenient ice cream offers (especially in this heat). So I'm not in all of that good-a shape, unfortunately, which has a direct impact on my climbing.

Before I left for the US, I was actually climbing to a reasonable standard - I was regularly topping out on 5+ indoor leads and was even top-roping 6a routes. Today I got 75% up a grade 4 lead and had to back down because I couldn't hold myself on to clip in securely. In fact I didn't top out on anything at all - all my flow, my moves, my power and my poise has disappeared. Not saying that I was the world's most elegant climber before I left, but I look like a ham-fisted buffoon up there at the moment. I still have power to do the big moves, but staying static on a hold to clip in saps all of my strength. It's irritating and frankly embarrassing.

A solution to one of my problems. But not a fix-all, upsettingly
enough.

So, I have to work on a plan as to how to rectify this; and quickly - I'm supposed to be leading my first outdoor routes in just over 3 weeks time. My first solution (and the easiest) is to work on my grip strength and endurance. To that end, on the way home today I picked up a tub of Rock Technologies' ExerFlex Power Putty from the good folks at Urban Rock. (I got the medium one to kick off with - it's tough stuff) My plan is to carry it around with me, and in an effort to avoid me picking my nails (which I do a lot, and I'm convinced affects my ability to crimp) have it rolling around in my palm getting squeezed and squished every which way to try and bring my forearm strength up to speed.

I've also resolved to try and get climbing as much as possible, and not just doing top-roped work; I want to get some good bouldering action in to again work on my strength, balance, poise and technique. I won't need a partner so I'm not beholden to climb with anyone which means I can do it pretty much whenever I'm free which is good. I'm also going to try and get to the gym as much as possible to work on pure strength and power, mainly in my upper body and arms - lots of pullups for me!

The intimidating shape of 'The Spike'
following Charlie's successful climb

In matters of a target, me and Charlie discovered something cool at the Westway: indoor climbing walls outdoors. Two great slabs of concrete fitted with climbing holds and pre-placed quickdraws to create some really interesting climbs. I named one (a massive, five-meter wide behemoth that is a permanent, evil-looking overhang) 'The Devil' and the other 'The Spike'. I didn't get far up the main face of the Spike but Charlie took it on, beat it and told me how fun it was. This is my new nemisis. This is my target for the next few weeks - lets see if I can beat it before I get back to Froggatt.