Monumental Failure

Last Tues should have been spent out, not in. However, Nat had made other arrangements that left me without transportation and with a million and one things to sort out so I was doomed to a sweaty evening at the works. Actually there was quite a good scene and I climbed surprisngly well given my lack of indoor activities over the last few months (novel I know).

Later on in the week 'she' left for the North East as it seems this is the only place in which her office has any work and I used my time alone to make the flat look as if I am indeed a bachelor by not tidying up after myself, batch cooking and drinking solo. I cobbled together a last minute plan to get out on Fri although I struggled to find other daytime warriors and finally used UKB's hookup forum to get out and about.

When Friday came the destination had been agreed as Cheedale cornice. Why not? Its not as if its dry often and at least it should be quiet. 'Nai' and I enjoyed the place to ourselves warming up on something incredibly filthy (not in the good way) and being generally blind to fixed gear I ended up making it more bold than it needed to be.

Now, the Cornice and I have a strange relationship. The first place I ever climbed on Peak lime was Cheedale Cornice. After being at uni for a matter of minutes I posted over on UKC (note the difference) for someone to climb with. I'd spent the summer working my way through many of the trade routes at Kilnsey and had topped off my season with my hardest every redpoint and basically I was overly confident (hopefully not equally arrogant), coming from a small climbing scene I imagined that I in fact was much stronger than in reality.
Who answered my post? None other than UKB's insect overlord the Shark. I popped over to his that evening for a quick drink, met his mad collie and heard how a freindly local student had kicked his wing mirror off (I think?) after an evening on the sauce.
The day of reckoning came later that week as I stood outside ranmoor waiting for my lift. It came in the form of a 330d estate and I don't think I'll ever forget a foolish comment made by another passenger at the time which resulted in more rapid progress throught the peak district than I anticipated.
We parked at wormhill and I spent the next 20 mins sliding around on my arse as skate shoes clearly weren't up to that muddy approach. When we arrived at the Cornice every one else seemed plenty happy enough but not me. Having spent most of the summer at Kilnsey with the odd trip here and there to Malham or Gordale I was seriously unimpressed. I was assured the climbing was great and the various teams started warming up. Clarion Call was the first order of the day and begun my Peak limestone education with a big fat slap back to reality. I can't even remember if I got to the top, most likely yes but not by much.
I lowered off and Shark went on K3. Powerplant was my chosen route (fool) and I spent the next 30 mins suspended from the bolt by the undercuts perplexed. One thing that its worth noting is that back then, power was something I didn't have. Currently when I go back on one of the routes I enjoyed that summer at Kilnsey its blatantly obvious just how much weaker I was. My sequences involve deviances that I wouldn't even think about currently. If you haven't seen it yet, the irony here is that aged 18 I actually identified this as a weakness and delt with it accordingly, it took until I turned 25 to see that I didn't ever stop in this pursuit.
After yet another schooling on powerplant I moved on, this time to climb with Mark on 3rd reich I believe, a thin 7c ish (?) thing on the right hand side. Again the holds were tiny, the climbing tenuous and I had recieved another harsh lesson on the white stuff.
Fast forward a few years and i was back again, this time my Curly haired belayer and I arrived and I knew exactly what to do; avoid clarion call. Inspired by a picture of Ru footless I decided to dog up Nemesis. The climbing was good and I sorted the moves individually (no doubt swearing they were/are easier than clarion call) and lowered off to take over belaying duty. When it was again my turn to climb I put in a valiant effort which ended on the Sika'd hold, pumped out of my mind with little chance of recovery that day. I picked off something in the center of the wall at a much more ameanable grade before leaving.
Now back to Fri; Having only had one day of sport so far this year (which went 'kinda' ok) I wasn't sure what to expect. I haven't trained in a while and outside I've been plodding. My forearms were still a little tender from the weeks earlier session. I decided after looking at a particular route that any chance of a hard route was out and that I should try and enjoy some onsighting. The warmup was done (as above) and we moved onto clarion call.
From here on out I climbed the worst I've climbed for quite some time. I couldn't pin point what was wrong for the simple fact that everything was wrong. Sloppy footwork, poor reading, no arms, no fingers, no stamina. Thankfully one thing was with me, no fear (well only a little bit. Beal Joker 9.1mm + GriGri + Featherweight + New belayer leaves a few nerves here and there) and it was a good job too as everything and anything from here on I fell off. Redpointing 7a's was soul destroying and I couldn't really find a reason to cling onto. Pritch turned up and didn't seem to believe how poorly I was climbing until he witnessed it with his own eyes. I was all ready to right this blog as an admission of my poor performance without excuses however my body has obviously created a highly developed self defence mechanism wherby dobbin esque levels of neurosis are converted into actual ailments; in this way as Fri progressed so too did 'Man Flu'...

The weekend was spent stranded in Watford making final adjustments to the van and drinking too much at the family BBQ. It wasn't fun and as I was doing very little (stitching) I couldn't force the workers to speed up. Another weekend is required to finish the last little bits and I don't really want to sacrifice any more good weather for this.

Later on this week a Cornice re-match... maybe.

I have now booked two weeks off starting in Aug which I hoped to spend puntering around throughout some UK venues. The list is long and I have to say, after Fri the confidence is slightly dented.