Firstly, I can't believe its taken me this long to remember another aspect of climbing that is so enjoyable. Furthermore I can't believe that I've been climbing for this long without being dragged in some way shape or form towards the bottom end of wales.
Before leaving the forecast looked, lets just say; British. A quick check of other euro-destinations showed the South of France to look incredible. Somehow I held my nerve and decided we'd go to Pembroke.
Basically, we worked our way through our tick list (courtesy of UKB regulars) and rarely strayed from the Rockfax top 50. The tone was set early buy ensuring Riders on't storm was the first route we got on and the second was Bloody Sunday. The leap is fantastic and I can't see myself from running out of challenges down there anytime soon!
I was absolutely shocked when I abbed in down the Monster Face (it looked wet, it wasn't) to find Keith and Mule underneath Minotaur. We both respectively set off on different minor epics. When I got a little lost I asked Nat where the belay was. She promptly picked up the guide, read a different route description and sent me off on what turned out to be an interesting linkup of most routes within the central section.
We made it to Mowing Word and all the way up to St. Davids, which whilst a nice setting, seemed a litte boring compared to the more imposing routes at Pembroke south.
I've been trying fairly hard to work through the grades and try and build myself a somewhat solid trad head/foundation with which to build on and its going fine. Nat seems able to follow happily up to about E3 as long as the route isn't too steep but on our next visit the going WILL get tougher. I've got a few routes in North Wales I'd really like to get on this season and hopefully a few more in Pembroke and one on High Tor. If these all get ticked then I'll be happy and my short term goal will be ticked/realised/sent.
All-in-all my head seemed pretty solid up until the last day. A few too many in the St. Govans left me with the hangover from hell and the smell of fear (or maybe beer?) escaping from me at every possible point. Abbing into a calm, almost serene Mother Careys I inexplicably became intimidated by my chosen routes and tried to find every excuse under the sun to avoid them. That was until a little voice clicked and after bitching at Natalie for what was clearly my head issues we got sorted and had a whale of a time on the almight Zeppelin. The territory is outrageous (a bit like Rock Idol on steroids) and the climbing fantastic. It would have been a little better if there hadn't been a communication error that left me off belay for a moment on a less than solid finish.
Sorry if this is all a bit vague, there's a lot to cover.
Other highlights include over filling my coleman stove, pressurising it and priming it which then led to it heating up and forcing petrol out of the filler cap. This then took light and a self perpetuating petrol fire ensued.
I had a mission trying to get on Mother night. The stake seems to have disappeared thus making the rockfax high tide access descriptions no longer valid. I still tried. Raining blocks down on myself, lowering in and then top roping out of 'Just Klingon' to pull into the final groove, a bit pissed off and quite pumped to be chucked up at/on by a Fulmar. Two washes later and my trousers still have the tell tale oily stain.
My old cams ceased due to the sea air, an obvious sign that they needed some TLC.
...and naturally we went for 'Preposterous Tales' only to find someone had taken a shit down the exiting chimney. Nice. This would make for a good DWS for the first two pitches should anyone fancy it. After that you could easily reverse it and finish up high life.
As Nat has taken a new job she finishes in Wakefield on Tues leaving her another 12 days off before she starts in Leeds. Currently its destination unknown but its not as if Pembroke isn't a strong contender after this trip.
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