Back in the Saddle

 So six months (ish) have passed. Lots of baby steps in physio, lots of little exercises. Walks and wanders, dreaming and scheming.

However, today I have returned to my love. Our of the asylum and back to the wilderness; boot and pad in hand.

Mr Fidler ( soon to be Dr no doubt) joined me in returning to a tentative loose end, found while on Deep Recon on the A487. The dolerite dominoes of Llyn Cymystradlyn may well be sandstone (I'm sure a geologist will tell us), but semantics aside, I can assure you of there provision of quality entertainment.

The approach for starters, takes in an inordinate array of bracken and bog. It wasn't until our retreat that the local fishermen imparted the arcane knowledge that boulder hopping the shoreline was a lot drier and ultimately swifter then balancing hummock to hummock across the sprawling bogs.

Once there, Dave got stuck into the big prize while I tentatively pulled on my comfy boots and looked for a lowball to toy with:

I was amazed how much I had to fight on the lowball, so low it probably deserved a ¡ After its lowly 6A¡.

Dave fought hard to make links on the giant roof, but settled on its soaring arete, which jutted proudly over a jumble of distant death blocks, definitely a !!

We had only taken a pad each, as we both had aspects of crippled on. These we placed under the bits where they could actually make a difference, leaving the void to take care of itself. Fortunately the finish was fairly straightforward. So he tells me. I didn't even attempt to pull on.

This became Brithyll Saithliw 6C!!

All the while I kept flailing on my slopey ground hugging traverse, eventually it relented to give the Inconsequential Traverse 6A¡

Amazed at the heady heights I had achieved after only 6 months of semi-recumbant woodlice husbandry, Dave had a go:

Both flushed with this success, we retired to the lower tier, where I quickly scored another prize.

This time it was Slopey Topscrittle; a lurchy F5

I then spent some time trying to be a wad, by brushing the holds to its right. This was mainly in vain. Although it did help to spur Dave onto furthering his efforts to cross the horizontal steepness:

Long video, but Well worth it for the banter.

In between banter, I jolly well got another first ascent- This ones called Moby Dick (there's a whale..) another 5 probably.

 

Laughter. That's what characterized this trip, that and joy, and bog. Plus a bit of choss.

At this point Dave pulled himself together and climbed this:

He called it Throwing Sheeps, due to my mistaking a herd of sheep for seagulls, and claimed it was 7B. I suspect he was being modest.

We finished up a delightful afternoon by hunting for signs of the mysterious G Mawr, and stumbled on this rather pretty boulder that shows signs of cleaning:

 If it hasn't been done before, you can call it Eog and it's about 6Bish ( the jumble of dominoes is in the background). It was too high for me to risk, and has a bum puncher block at its base. Shame really, if it was dug out it would be 3 stars good.

A great first return, I still have to be careful, lower my expectations, as well as the risk and the height. However, I'm reassured that by keeping a steady pace I can be back to being a loon by next spring.

A happy place.

I (still) Ate'nt Dead

 I'm just over 4 months into my recovery from a ruptured Achilles tendon. I think I will be able to safely return to climbing in August, maybe.

It's been a bit of an emotional journey with lots of dips. I thought I'd be able to return sooner, once I could fully weight my toes. However there's more strengthening to do and a rerupture would be back to the beginning again.

Well reasoned words. What actually happened was I tried to climb, I even sneakily pulled on some holds outside 

Nothing serious, just a damp visit to Porth Howel. All excited I went to my physio the next day.

"Returning to climbing would be a bad idea"

What does he know. . I'll text a bouldering physio..

"Not yet"

Next climbing physio.

"Keep strengthening "

Begrudgingly I aquiesced.

So it's been quiet on here, quiet on my Instagram too, just pictures of my distraction hobby; isopod breeding.

It's the invertebrate enthusiast equivalent of pigeon fancying, very geeky.

Other than that I've been trying to score parenting points, took one of my boys for a wild camp.

We got wet.

Other than that, micro-exploration continues. I have even made a second cleaning visit to This 

I was surprised to find some of the holds still clean

Has anybody done the second ascent? I'd love to know, I've never been sure of the grade.

Ho hum. Hopefully more news next month 

Here be Really Tiny Dragons

 Well I'm now free of the boot and hobbling free. It's still early days, I'm certainly miles away from actually climbing again. However, I have discovered it's all in pretty good shape considering. 

I took it for a test drive.

Turns out with appropriate footwear I can get around a bit.

Yep I also used a walking pole, and had to sit down occasionally, but with care and caution..

I even coped with a little wilderness terrain.

So early days, but the joy of going somewhere I haven't been before, (especially as it felt like somewhere people didn't go often ) Well. It made me feel myself again.

The same time I was filling in the blanks on my personal map, a good friend and wind up merchant James Caff McHaffie was polishing off the original Giveaway Project of the Month from 2009.

I was incredibly made up, as I'd been banging on about the Superprow for, well, 13years. I'd even tried it myself ( too scary) and was building a patio for future highballers. Caff of course added a couple of token stones and cracked on regardless.

Since lockdown Caff has polished off four of my "Too much for Hosey" projects.

It's been really gratifying passing them on and seeing other people catch the vision I had.

This got me thinking about how much I've explored versus either finding anything, or if I do, actually getting round to climbing these lumps.

From the new perspective of temporary crippledom I'm realising that the hunt is as valuable (sometimes more so?) Than the capture.

A bit of a Google search found I was not alone. Micro exploration has been coined to describe these events. In the past adventurers were drawn to the blank bits of the map. In the modern world, the blank bits are still there. You just have to zoom in a bit, basic chaos theory innit?

All this is weighing on my mind, as climbing seems a long way off ( my gimpy toes only can take about 30% bodyweight). I'm coping with this by concentrating on being an explorer.

My project book is all full of ticks ( mine and other people's) and some unclimbed rock has to be discovered to refill it.

Today I went here:

Random woods on the edges of the map. Not so much a blank bit, as a bit that's been doodled on, had some tea spilt on it and then dropped down the back of the bookcase.

It's these forgotten places that occasionally turn up treasure.

So the gimpy foot generally behaved, apart from when a hidden stick snapping under my heel and shocking the system a tad.  I can keep exploring and finding new happy places.

There's treasure everywhere

Das Boot

 Well last blog post I was exiting a low patch and combating the trials of a Welsh winter.. Spring is on its way and I'd started trawling through the memory sticks and phone caches for this year's motivation. Turns out I've got a few reasonable projects squirrelled away.

Unfortunately on a family day out I managed to perform a complete rupture of my right Achilles tendon while showing off to the kids.

So I'm now in a bit of a pickle.

Given my recent low patch, you'd think I'd be circling the drain right now, but I'm somehow feeling quite chipper.

Ok this year is written off for bouldering. I think I maybe have climbed my last highball.

But..

This is a pretty good challenge...

As someone who has always been drawn to the adventure and challenges of climbing rather than the difficulty or max gainz, my immediate worry was that my drug of choice was cut off and I was going to fall down a toilet like Ewan McGregor in Trainspotting.

But adventure is in the eyes of the beholder. I'm known for the esoteric side of adventure as it is, so exploring over nice level ground and sea cliff reconnaissance in my dinghy on very calm seas should provide suitable methadone adventures.

Rehab, the process and what's ahead.

I'm 2 and a bit weeks in, I was fortunate to be seen straight away in Ysbyty Gwynedd by one of their very experienced nurse practitioner's whose expert lining up of the ducks meant I saw the specialist the next morning and was straight into a vacuped boot rather than an Equinus cast. The first 2 week's were rough with self injecting the anticoagulant meds and enforced rest.

I'm now beginning a very tentative transition to weight bearing and leaving the confines of the crutches. I'm thinking this process will take 2-3 weeks. The coach in me has established I can currently support without pain about 3 stone of my body weight so pretty early days.

In two weeks I get to adjust the boot to allow a heady 15° of movement in my ankle.

I'm hoping to start driving again early April

Physio will start around this time.

Easy walks are tentatively pencilled in to start around May refilling the project folder.

Refilling as I've started giving away the higher or awkward to access ones.

Summer I get the dinghy out.

So yes. Chipper. New kinds of adventure, I'm even tentatively returning to my childhood hobby of exotic invert collecting, wife allowing.

There's treasure everywhere..