Summer is here!
Well, sort of. Just enough good weather to convince me that the cragging season has begun anyway… My plan is to cram as much climbing into the first half of 2010 as possible – come August i’ll be job hunting and concentrating on supporting my family rather than indulging my climbing passion, but that’s ages away!
So, Saturday began nice and sunny. We were spoiled for choice really but opted for Rhoscolyn. I’ve got some great memories of this crag and have ticked my way through most of the classics over the years. In fact, without stepping up a grade there’s not much more I want to do there (yeah, I know I harped on about stepping up a grade last time but that doesn’t mean jumping straight on nails overhanging E6s!). Except of course, for The Viper. This is an E4 5c that branches out from Centrefold, unfortunately the entire middle section of Fallen Block Zawn was streaming with water. Simon picked out the best looking dry line to warm up on… this happened to be the start of The Jub Jub bird linking into Godzilla to finish. Not the best warm up at E4 but Simon found it straightforward enough making it look about VS. I struggled, and had a bit of a paddy on the top overhang. Well, maybe it was a bit wet. Or a bit loose, or something.
Anyway, onto Plan B – Electric Blue. This photogenic pitch seems to be climbed more frequently as a DWS these days and I can see why – it’s bloody pumpy and a right arse to fiddle in gear, but great climbing. Thank god for cams (how did anyone climb before these?)
Slightly dodgy weather on Sunday led us back to the default option of Tremadog. Quick warm up on Geireagle (again casually dispatched by Simon) followed by my usual thrash with Vulture. This is rapidly becoming my bloody nemesis, but at least my annual failure point is marginally higher each time. So – closer, but still no cigar… quite.
Next up was Groove of Horror, for Simon, not me as I was fairly boxed by now. An old Roland Edwards route, with some aid I think, this route is now graded E5 6a and described as “extremely strenuous”. Hardly surprising that I don’t know anyone whose done it, or even heard of any ascents. Alas, today it was not to be – the crack was gopping and forced a timely retreat. Erebrus was a worthy alternative – what a great pitch. I had seconded it before but don’t remember it being so hard, quite glad I wasn’t leading to be honest. We finished off with the first pitch of Itch, in the gathering gloom.
Not a bad weekend, all told. My ridiculously optimistic title will already be sounding pretty stupid by the time you read this – snow forecast tomorrow, would you believe it? Bloody Wales! Nothing for it but to get back on my garage board… those 8a’s don’t climb themselves, y’know!
El Dard, Arbolí
El Dard from the approach path
Another day’s climbing in Catalunya, another amazing crag that nobody’s heard of, and nobody visits. Or at least, that’s the way it seemed yesterday as PJ and I arrived at Sector El Dard, near the village of Arbolí in the Prades mountains. Amazing rock, views down to the sea, a 5 minute approach from the car, and nobody else there. What more could you want?
It was interesting reading Jo’s post about trad climbing in Tremadog last week as it made me start thinking about trad climbing again. In general the Catalan limestone would be very difficult to trad climb as it is very compact and doesn’t have nearly as many features and cracks. However, the first few sectors we saw at El Dard were much more ‘British’ in style.The warm up sector reminded me very much of Wildcat in the Peak District – grey, rough rock set among the trees and with ample opportunities for placing protection.
However, after warming up on a couple of nice 6s, we walked a bit further round to ‘the main event’, where I was forcefully reminded that we were most definately in Spain: a bulging 35m wall of perfect orange-grey limestone, split by a handful of hairline cracks, and an entry grade of 7b. Yep, definately Spain (or, rather, Catalunya).
The goal for the day was to try a 7c called El Marginao, which climbed the central ‘climb-me!’ crack from the bottom right to the very top. I haven’t been training very much recently and I know 7c is out of my reach, but I knew that it was graded 7a+ to the intermediate lower off, so my plans were to try to onsight the 7a+ bit, and the work the moves on the upper 7c section. Luckily the first bit went to plan and the 7a+ was dispatched without too much trouble, but unfortunately the 7c was another matter. Even resting on reach bolt, I had clean run out of strength by the end, and just couldn’t do the final moves to the anchor. They weren’t particularly difficult, I was just creamed.
So anyway after one half-hearted RP attempt (where I fell off the crux of the 7a+ bit) I gave up and looked elsewhere. PJ recommended a technical 6c+/7a called Peus al Foc. Even after 45mins rest I was still tired, and I only just scraped up it onsight. I was pretty pleased but completely trashed, so it was back to the warm up sector to finish on a couple of ‘easy’ 6bs which I very nearly fell off.
PJ was climbing well and made serious in-roads on the 7c El Marginao. He did all the moves first go and had a pretty good crack at it first RP, falling off the crux moves right before the anchor (the ones that had defeated me). After a long rest he had a second bash but it was obvious from the start that he was tired, and after failing low down he dogged up to get the clips. It’s such a long and draining route – and with the crux right at the end, it’s quite a difficult route to red-point.
And at that precise moment it started to rain. It’s been a pretty miserable winter and spring in Catalunya to be honest, everybody’s sick of the rain.
So, how am I doing climbing wise? Well, the truth is I’ve been slack in the last 6 weeks or so, what with skiing and work trips and so forth, and haven’t been climbing or training that much. Jo is coming out for a ‘Team 8amyarse.com’ trip to Rodellar and Riglos in May, so my goal is get to a bit fitter for that. Still, I’m onsighting 7a/+ ish fairly confidently at the moment, so that’s not bad. But my experience on El Marginao has taught me that 7cs don’t climb themselves!
Costa Tremadog
Well, this is to be my first ever post on 8amyarse… and my blogging virginity is about to go up in smoke which is a strange feeling. Many thanks to Alun for inviting a contribution from a North Wales resident. As i’m also gunning for the stratospheric heights of F8a sometime during the next decade, a viewpoint from the traditional crucible of Snowdonia might provide an interesting contrast to the sun-drenched sport climbing mecca of Catalunya, where climbing 8a is probably quite easy! Just kidding – I just mean there are lots to chose from over there.
Anyway, for those of you who don’t know me, my name is Jo Bertalot, i’m 32 (and a bit), and so far have redpointed 7c, onsighted 7b and a fair few E5’s. My goal this year is to go up a grade on each of the above. Achievable? Well, maybe.
The weather last weekend was amazing: high pressure, clear blue skies, warm. Keith was free and keen to climb, and where better to rekindle the old trad-climbing fire than Tremadog, the place where it all began, for me at least. I grew up in Pwllheli, just 30 minutes away and served a fairly typical apprenticeship on the lower grade routes here. I knew I had got to the top of Pincushion before but have a hazy memory of using a point of aid on the overhang, belayed by my ever-patient Dad. Time to settle the score, and see if I had improved a smidgen in 15 years of climbing!
This really is an amazing pitch which has a bit of everything, a chimney thrutch, an awkward crux under and through the overlap followed by a long HVS / E1 slab. I certainly struggled but just about made it after an incredible shaking-leg episode. Early season nerves! Don Sargeant the omnipresent CC climbing photographer happened to be on hand snapping away – very nice, especially with the next Tremadog guide due out this year?
We followed this up with Barbarian which was one of my early HVS leads (as it was back then). I still have tons left to do at Tremadog, mostly routes that I have been putting off for years and a couple that i’ve tried and failed on before. I might even make it back this week, especially now that my Scottish Winter plans have been well and truly scuppered by tropical temperatures and collapsing cornices.
Return to Arbolí
The view of Siurana, across the valley from El Falco
Yesterday the sun shone brightly and PJ and I made a return visit to Arbolí. You may recall that the last time I was there was with Ian Lau, on the first day of our Siurana trip, I didn’t write too much about Arbolí, because the majority of the trip was spent falling off things at Siurana. But the climbing at Arbolí deserves its own post, so here it is.
The main interest in the sectors surrounding the remote village of Arbolí is a huge wall called El Falco. It is a spectacular wall, varying between vertical and slightly overhanging, and capped with overhangs. Pretty much all of the 30 single pitch routes are over 30m in length, and a handful of belay chains are a full 40m above the ground. When you consider the spacious and convenient access to the crag base, and the spectacular views across the valley to Siurana, El Falcó is definately up there with some of the best that Catalunya has to offer. PJ and I went along with French chap that PJ met recently, called Max, and when were there we met up with a couple of his Catalan friends, so there was a nice crew of us. Here’s a little video to give you an idea of what it’s like.
The wall at El Falco
With such long routes I wasn’t particularly keen to be redpointing hard stuff, and instead decided to go for a day of onsighting, which I haven’t done for a while. After a couple of nice long 6cs to warm up, I was feeling good and decided to have a bash at Borinot, a beautiful looking 7a line up the centre of the crag. 7a always gives me the willies – it’s such a psychological thing because I know that I can onsight 6c+, and 7a isn’t that much harder, and I should be able to onsight it. But that adds it’s own pressure, and so it was a little bit of trepidation that I set off. Technically speaking, I had already blown the onsight – I had half-watched Max climbing it and the clips were in, but nevertheless I was very chuffed to reach the anchors without too much difficulty. Strictly I can only claim the flash, but personally I was very pleased, regardless of what any ethic police may say.
So then after a good rest it was time to try Chanidangersch, a 7a+ immediately to the left. This was to be a true onsight attempt as I had not seen anybody on it and had to put the clips in myself. The route is a full 40m long, and after 20 minutes of climbing there I found myself, 38m up, absolutely exhausted, staring at one last final pull to reach the chains.
Well, I blew it. My left hand uncurled from the crimp and I was off. I found the ferocity and volume of the swearing that followed shocking, even as I felt the words leave my mouth. I was crushed, not just because of getting so close, but because I had held it together for 38 effing metres, which is psychologically draining. To be honest, I think mentally I was too weak, I should have just got aggressive and blasted through it (needless to say, after a couple of minutes rest on the rope, I found the move easy. Typical!). I didn’t give it everything I had and so that’s why I failed.
Still, it was a brilliant day’s climbing. PJ was chuffed to onsight a 40m 7b, just to the right of my 7a+, and Max worked the move on an 8a that looks like it never gets done, and said it was awesome. I’m not sure when I’ll be back to El Falco next, but there’s plenty left there for me to go at, so I hope it’s not too long.
Max on Bon Noi, 8a
25m slackline
25m slackline in Poblenou park
Yes yes I have been training, but that’s boring and showing you an amusing video of me falling off a slackline is far more interesting :P
Today the weather was a bit windy so Pau and I put up the slackline in the park. The advantage of this is that there are more anchors so, after playing around on a baby 10m line we rolled it out to nearly its full length of 25m. The first thing to note is that a long slackline is much more intimidating. It moves around so much more but it actually makes it much more satisfying – as the line moves you find that you have to just go with the flow, and as the line is moving up and down from side to side it feels as it you are floating. I felt like I was Chow-Yun Fat in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, in the bit where he’s balancing on the tip of a tree branch.
Well, up until I fell off…