Friday, 28 September 2018

Hot to Bog Trot

So all these efforts to go back to the start and rekindle my internal keen machine got a huge boost from this video by Tim Peck.
Basically I explored this area around the time that Seren was born. The following three years have been full of family and fun, but not much climbing.  The thought that these great stones may have been left to gather moss is obviously abhorrent, and I'm well chuffed that Tim developed them independently.
Here's the spark that has lit the fuse.
So life post NWB2 felt that things had been done, the major areas ticked.
Then Tim climbs the froth cannon.
The flame lead me to this page:
The thing about this map is there's blank bits. Not over the cities and fields, but the rocky bits too.

My trusty combo of geograph and googlemaps lead me to here:

Unfortunately this led me to here:

But eventually it led me here

Much bog trotting later I found this :

Sadly it was not quite right, but the keen machine is now chugging away, schemes are Afoot,  and if I keep looking,  eventually I'll hit gold.  
It wasn't all wasted, however, all that bog trotting.  I did get to play on some pristine (tiny) dolerite :

Ich bin ein Kiesel spanker

Sunday, 19 August 2018

Dear Prudence...

So my Birthday came around,  and I started hatching a silly plan, a chance to tick some boxes and scratch some itches. However,  a tweaky finger steered me away from the usual trad and bouldering options. I'd been enjoying coasteering with the kids, and was trying to conjour a more untamed option.I'd always wanted to visit some of the climbing on Cilan head, but I've left behind some of the boldness of youth, and didn't fancy trying hard without adequate protection.  But if I coasteer I can just swim past the tricky bits, right?
Plans were hatched and the forecast poured over,  I knew tide was important, turning and receding tides bash you less, and recently I'd been introduced to a swell forecast.  My thinking was get it small,  it'll be safer.  0.8m sounded small,  and as Sunday was worse,  I decided to go for it on Saturday.
I'd started to get overly psyched. It was 3km long without many escape points, I was zooming in on maps, and trawling the Web for more info.  I was realising this may not have been done before,  and was feeling the rat of nervousness gnawing at my optimism.  I countered this by organising buoyancy aids and paddling helmets.  We could always reverse.
On the day we were enjoying guessing the back roads so much that we missed the turn off to the Hells mouth parking,  and ended up at the Dorys farm parking instead.  This meant that we were much closer to the start, but would have a bit of a walk at the end. The mist was in and Nick Bullock's van wasn't there, surely an ill omen. However,  the walk down was chirpy, and the fisherman's path to us straight to the start.
I remember looking back at Dorys and thinking I was glad I wasn't climbing there, having some fluffy fun instead.
And it was until the first zawn. It looked a bit to serious to climb around,  and there was a stepping stone bridge of pebbles to the other wall, where a sloping ramp would spit up dry once more. Once in the swoshy sea decided to swat us a little,  like a cat with a toy. The rockover onto the ramp ended up much more dynamic and slippy than expected too. The rock losing all friction with the waves. No matter,  we pushed on, this sloping shelf couldn't last forever,  and we'd turn the corner into more bandy and breaky territory.  Indeed the rock reared up and jutted ahead of us, just the other side of a boulder strewn and foamy Bay.
The sea continued to taunt us. The tide was supposed to be slacking,  but the waves were still bouncing around the boulders, throwing in a beast every so often to shit us up. A more experienced reader of the topography may have reasoned that the sloping bedrock was amplifying the waves, and the boulders adding a bit of chaos to the currents. A more experienced coasteerer may have studied the sea on the approach and changed plans.  No matter. I was about to gain that experience.  We waited for a lull in the waves,  and with a nod we dropped in,  crossing the gap quickly. It was then the wheels started to come off. It became apparent that the near shore of the bay had no exit.  Ben pushed on to a distant crack, and I followed.  The waves seem massive and malicious at close quarters. The gap between Ben and I grew as I tired and I realised Ben was a better swimmer than I.
Like a pint glass hurled into a busy bar, the waves broke over my head, and I started to panic.  I've got a life jacket,  surely I'm safe? Waves like punches struck from unlikely directions,  pushing water into my mouth. Shit shit shit!
I'm a climber! I searched out any weakness in the shore, and latched onto a nearby rib. Hope was sucked away with the surf. No holds, no friction.  I latched a limpet with my hand and mantled. Only for a king wave to unseat me. Ben, now up the exit crack watched impotently as I was tumbled against the shore. Panic was now all consuming. I remember kicking out from the shore and telling Ben I was drowning.  To his credit,  he told me not to be silly,  and hatched an escape plan. He jumped back in, riding the waves to me he calmed me down,  and we kicked with the waves back to our starting point. Once back in the bay, the chaos of currents kept spitting us back from safety.  Somehow we found a path into the back of the bay and round to the boulders.
Hands on something solid I felt like crying. Especially as my foot was wedged. Once I'd flicked it out peace descended,  and I vomited out a gargantuan burp of air and seawater.  I think I stayed behind this boulder in the surf for a good 5 minutes,  utterly spent.  The next half hour was spent picking our way up the cliff. A couple of steps at a time,  this fisherman's path felt like the end of an untrained for marathon. I felt utterly guilty for risking our lives like that.  I didn't see the danger until I was in it.
I'm alive!  I've learnt lots of useful stuff ( like not coasteering on Cilan head unless the sea is glass). My adventure partnership with Ben is a little deeper too.
All good.
Not many pics. This is the beach at T'yn Towyn quarries during our mental warm down. 

Sunday, 15 July 2018

Before the Word, there was the Tube(s)

So in my quest for retro pleasures, and to escape the heat, I enticed Phil and Emma down to the Tubes. This esoteric, frankly hardcore esoteric,  venue is situated just upstream from Betws y Coed.  developed in the 90's by the great and good of "the scene " it has mouldered in relative obscurity,  banished to the meirionedd guide and a brief mention in Boulder Britain.
The Upper Tubes are the ultimate gentlemens venue,  it only comes in to season when everything else is too hot, and lends itself to intellectual top roping,  and splashing about.
The first issue was remembering how I last got to it 13 or so years ago. Then convincing the others that it was "straightforward ".
However,  a small pine forest appears to have grown making pathfinding interesting.  Suffice to say, my premature attempts to enter the gorge were fairly exciting.  It's also probably a good point to suggest a new approach from a third of the way up the crash barrier is equally "easy".
 The team safely down the awkward ramp. This was the only pic I took, Emma's waterproof camera went into action after this. After using her non waterproof phone for our first ( and only successful)  challenge ; Inner Tube- a Paul Pritchard T1 (no normal grades here). However,  she has since dropped that one in the sea, so no awesome pictures of climbing fully enclosed Tubes, here. Or the Monkey Skull. Inner Tube involves a downclimb,  a traverse,  and ascending an enclosed tube. This makes top roping logistics really fun.
The Tubes are water polished slate, and therefore everything is about directional pressure.  That and falling off.
Exploring downstream.  At this stage we were quite keen to stay dry, and thus progress was slow. 

Phil staying dry. Our target was the Barbara Hepworth area, which has a dooable T2. However,  we got sucked into trying Original Route,  a Crispin Waddy T1. My rigging ability was sorely tested with my blinkered approach leading me up an xs style approach rather than the way round the back they all tell you about. The results was an offset and friction full top rope.  I trusted my belayer to adapt and set off..

Moss, undercuts and really directional foot holds.

My belayer made a slight misjudgement of slack, however it was warm enough to at least dry the rubber on my shoes for subsequent attempts.

Once we had our fill of gentlemanly pursuits,  we took to the water. More hilarity ensued,  as the tanin stained waters hid all obstacles.  Combined with subriverine Tubes meant that the water randomly changed depth from 2cm to 5m. 

Eels trying to climb around the cascades. I can't recommend the Tubes highly enough.  However, like the eel, don't expect to win much,  but enjoy the struggle.

Friday, 22 June 2018

Waiting for Vizzini

Life has got busy once more, and those days I could get out, I've preferred to spend with my daughter or the chickens.  I've become de motivated,  partially due to my only projects being a little nails.
I've been training,  but mainly towards a healthy body, and ticking off indoor goals.
It's gone a bit wrong.
However,  I have a plan...

"I am waiting for you, Vizzini! You told me to go back to the beginning… so I have."

Monday, 2 April 2018

Try Hards and Pebble Helms

I had one more attempt at trying hard since last time down at Skadoosh.  I'm discovering it takes a while to warm into the brutality,  I think when it's actually seeming feasible I'll have to give it more than an hour and a half. Nevertheless,  come the 80 minute Mark, I'd held two new positions and identified a significant limiting factor; namely hamstrings.

My foot is supposed to end up next to my left hand...

In other news,  a minor Pebble Helm reunion was organised at Porth Ysgo. #theonlydryplaceinwales.  AndyF and I and an army of Lancs descended on Saturday,  and we had fun.
This pic typifies the day's events,  where pistaking overshadowed the actual climbing.  Fun times.

Last time I was at Ysgowas at the NWBG Book Launch last November,  where I managed to lose a toenail establishing a new stander called Squishy.  This time I bruised my bum endeavouring to repeat it ( here's the successful video)

I then tricked the assembled wads into giving it a sit start so it wouldn't get ignored.  It was dispatched by keen and strong youth Callum Hamilton, but I was on Brian Spray at the time, so here's AndyF on it instead. 

Starts with left hand on a sidepull,  and right just above where Andy has his right heel. Barry Kershaw managed the second acsent ( despite being somewhat shorter than Callum)  and 7B was the hives concensus on the grade.
Good Times.
Keep Flailing! 

Friday, 16 March 2018

Quickish Hit

Unfortunately the one morning I had off this week was all wet and drippy. However,  my beloved wife got fed up with my moping and kicked me out at 5 O'clock for an hour or so of power.  Only one venue is fit for times like these..
Dry and pretty.  Skadoosh is fast becoming my current Shed. Quick to get to, as comfortable on the psyche as some old tatty pompom slippers.  Everything from the chalking up to the warm ups are familiar friends, happy patterns repeated ad infinitum. The sharp eyed of you will have spotted the mismatch shoe combo. This can mean only one thing.. Projects are Afoot.  Basically I have to get from the chalk on the left to the chalk on the right. James' Sit down into skadoosh.  It's far to early in the process to actually try the crux,  so here's the bit after the crux into holds on skadoosh :
Fairly sure I can hold that swing, then it's the final bopp of Skadoosh.  Hence the left foot solution ( I nailed it earlier obvs).
My next challenge to solve is how to isolate some bits of the crux so I can build some belief.  This may involve using footholds I can't use on the actual sequence, but it'll give me something to flail at.

Keep flailing y'all!

Wednesday, 28 February 2018

Baby steps

Training is continuing. I've been mixing it up a bit as my body is protesting a bit. This has included a power endurance auto belay blitz and some of my old skool exercises from Liquid Armbar days. This basically consisted of 2 pull ups with legs raised swiftly followed by 4 press ups,  and the whole lot repeated 10 times. 20 pull ups, 40 press ups. In the old days the idea was to complete this in under 2 minutes.  Currently I've managed 3 minutes 10 seconds so it's a work in progress.
The battle against the cold is being won. I'm particularly smug about my crag hot water bottle.  It's basically a normal hotty stuffed in a £3 bottle cool bag off eBay. Field trials have it still effective 2.5 hours after Filling   ( 1hr walk in, 1.5 hrs use).

The field study in question was back up to Marchlyn.  This time the nexus of conditions and free time did not coincide with a knackered core from pilates. I got a whole 2 finger pads to the hold! It's progress folks,  but baby steps... 

Also whilst up there I knocked off the latest stander from my landscaping efforts :

Pebble Helm is about 6A and will have a very tasty sitter. 

In other news, I have a new brake on the boulder scooter,  as the old one wore through.  Initial impressions are it runs a little hot, and I don't seem to be able to go that slow... Could be exciting. 

Stay psyched