Wet and Dry

As Nat is away this week and next the aim was to get out as much as possible and do very little work. However, next week I have a rather large progress meeting and this simply isn't possible. I'm starting to get very disillusioned with my studies as a lot of the time I feel I'm scratching around in the dust looking for something of novel interest. Add to this that I struggle to justify the increasing complexities of my models; they don't give better results (in fact they're arguably worse) and computationally they take much longer. Currently I have around 18 all queued up on various university accounts. Each one takes 160 hours on the grid computing system I have access to. Thats a lot, althought not as bad as an earlier one which took nigh on 28 days of iterations, night and day.
Due to this, I didn't leave the office until after 8 today and made it to the Foundry by about half past. A brief hello on the way in made me a few minutes later and by the time I'd finished re-filling chalk and lacing on my new pair of boots it wasn't that far off 9.
I hate time-pressured sessions in or out. There's so much risk that you either won't warm up enough, or you'll warm up too quickly and ruin what little time you have etc. Thankfully tonight I did none of these things and the session felt very like a good (dare I say it?) School session. The wave is a great wall, even to this day I've never come across a wall thats as good at introducing steep footwork and power in a realistic manner, granted the feet are always going to be a bit bigger than when out but its not bad is it?
Anyhow, I climbed well and with little rest. I felt powerful but more importantly I seemed to be moving well (which is a good feeling). I think there's something to this getting out lark?

Unfortunately something tonight really boiled my piss. Talking to someone whose name I really ought to know by now (I don't), the conversation drifted to Kilnsey and I made mention of the recent changes in condition seemingly overnight to which he laughed. He then made a fly-away comment about how 'his mate' had been bragging that he was going to post a false 'wet' conditions report. Now if this is the case I think its fairly off. People base their (treasured) weekends/evenings/days-off on the information supplied by freinds and the good people of UKB trusting them to be accurate with maybe a little pinch of salt thrown in for the needlessly pessimsitic (*cough*). To undermine this system in such a manner seems to me needlessly selfish, maybe it secured a quiet crag, maybe it was just for fun but personally I don't find it very funny.

Thats all a bit heavy so feel free to click on the recent Flickr uploads link for a laugh. If anyone is interested (which I'm sure they're not) I'm keen to get a piccie of someone on powerband using rim lights etc. Recently I flicked onto the Beastyboys channel and saw some of Mark S's recent off-camera flash and thought I'd stop neglecting mine and aim to use them in a climbing context. Which as until now (apart from an indoor shot:

at the works), I've failed to do. I wasn't really happy with that one either, can't put my finger on exactly why. Maybe 'cos its shit.

Unleashing the dank physique

The cornice certainly won today...

The clean routes were unaffected by this recent spell of poor weather. The less clean stuff wasn't and was hanging onto moisture to the bitter end.
After nearly punching myself in the face a few times on undercuts and then becoming airborne in a blink of an eye. My best boots split with a giant smile rendering them useless.
After this performance I'd run out of excuses why not to get on something tricky. Monumental was clearly going to be too much and a little damp, K3 and RNP appealed but something a bit more left field, featuring the word 'technical' appealed the most. Unleashing the wild physique seems to follow a fantastic line (or it looks too from the ground), the climbing is thin and technical with some finishing spice. Its at a bit more of an ameanable grade than the other routes on my list (although in my estimation it sits fairly high in this boundary).
Anyway I had a brief crack, which rapidly turned to bolt to bolting (wearing a ruined pair of dragons). To be brutally honest I found it quite hard. The bottom is easy, the top is ok but very fluff-able, the middle is thin and very fluff-able. My sequence doesn't seem perfect but a quick chat with Carl suggested I make a few adjustments that retrospectively make sense.
Typing this, my middle finger aches. I'm a little worried, with little over a week before the big hol I don't really want to re-injure my finger. It might be worth backing off just ever so slightly until afterwards.
Cordless Madness looked good from above and has been added to 'the list'.

Tor'd

Another of the 'excuse routes' went down the other day and just as I was about to get on the last remaining one it was snatched from beneath my gaze by an eager clipstick. To be fair, I was knackered from the previous evening and having done an awful lot of mileage in the last week, I wanted a rest day.
Saturdays weather didn't offer an easy choice of weekend destination so we stayed in the Peak. We didn't get going quickly either. Some time in the afternoon we plumped for High Tor and drove through on and off sunshine and rain all the way to Matlock. At the top it was windy so we sat (and bickered) wasting time. If we were both honest, neither of us were feeling the psych.
The clouds parted and after pointing a nearby walker in what I now know was completely the wrong direction (oops, thankfully not off the cliff), we bit the bullet and abbed in. Darius was what I wanted having thought I'd followed it a good few years ago with a Mr. Bell (namedrop alert). That day we didn't have a guide just a local climber who obviously didn't know what on earth he pointed us at. The route I did on Saturday was not the same and considerably easier. I remember starting up a hanging groove which had a large bit of tat hanging from a peg with a ring (which was split) and then belaying off on the right somewhere on a very large (4" diameter) round 'peg' which was folded behind a flake, does anyone know what this might have been? I'm pretty sure we finished on the final pitch of Debauchery.
Anyway, this time we did have a guide, and to be fair, the line is bleeding obvious. Its good too. We split the pitch for a few reasons and I have to say it took me a good long time to find a decent stance between the miriad of shit pegs on perseus. My nutkey, some digging and threading came good and I was happy. (For all of the purists out there I made sure I went back down onto the original line as not to miss out any of the hard climbing.
Higher up on the crux move, (certainly the nicest move?), I managed to f*ck up my ropes. This was clearly going to lead to a lot of drag and a pain in my ass so I had great fun reversing the cross hands manouevre back to the bolt (another question, why is there a bolt right next to a bomber thread?). After this the climbing is piss but the territory steepens a little. Nat didn't like this, especially when removing her knuckles to retrieve a wire.
Sunday was spent at high tor again, this time Perseus featuring on the agenda and some serious scoping of the routes right of Flaky wall (this looks fantastic by the way).
This week and the next she's up in Newcastle, leaving me to live the climbing bachelor lifestyle (wifebeater vest; check), complete with van. The problem is I've got a massive progress meeting a week on Thurs and a few unexpected twists and turns has left me a little pushed for time. I can do the work easily enough IF it'll converge in time. It seems a waste not to make the most of this time but sadly its looking like I might have to scrounge what little climbing I can between bouts of hard work.
This evening was spent on the wave (what a wall!). I was expecting to get absolutely spanked but gladly I felt fairly strong and even better I seemed to be moving and twisting in all the right ways.

Two weeks to holiday time. Just made a ticklist and it amounts to 60 routes in North Wales alone.

Seriously Sloe

I thought I'd finally collared a belayer for the spider later last week but he escaped at the last minute leaving me as another tag along to the Cornice. I've never really trained stamina and never really felt the need to as it seems to come quite quickly at the start of the sport climbing season proper after a few frustrating sessions of flailing.
Having now learnt how to climb at the Cornice a little better and having the numbers on almost anything that could be classed as a warmup I've been well poised to get a bit fitter by ticking routes I've never been on and getting them wired so when it does become the time to get stuck in I'll be ready.
That time is vastly approaching. Tues I spent at the Cornice, twice. I'd agreed to go out in the evening with somebody and then a better offer came a long for an early start to mid afternoon. I took both which resulted in doing 10 laps up and down. Some of those were doubles but not all and led me to believe I was getting a little fitter.

Random old photo of Nemesis to break up this mass of jibber jabber. Taken Sept '05!!!.

August is rapidly approaching and I'm aware that another good weekend of weather (although the forecast wasn't that way) was lost to sorting the last bits and bobs on the van. Apart from one 'maybe' task, its done and I have to say a big thanks to everyone thats lent a hand and for abuse of Nats' parents hospitality and tool'age. Worryingly enough it seems like far too long since I required my nuts, I'd rather have my head in the right place before our two weeks begin rather than feeling I lose a few days getting into the groove. We have 16 days, I wonder how much climbing we'll get in? (My mind has been thinking of viable backup alternatives should the UK ressist with a wet fortnight).
Yesterday was meant to be the cornice again but an achey belayer bailed on me. It was probably a good thing too as tonight I went and felt a little creaky. Maybe I'm not 'quite' as fit as I was hoping. Nat joined me tonight after work and got stuck into War Memorial (after a few cams were placed for the ending spice). She frustrated me greatly by putting in a valiant effort, flailing at the bulge and then walking up to the belay and then, not getting back on? Much bickering ensued, mostly from my side. Although, she has developed a new style of belaying. I like to refer to it as emotional belaying. I won't go into detail, but its not ideal.
I did a few routes but annoyingly couldn't seem to get on the ONE route I was hoping for. There was a serious man in-situ, not very talkitive and who broke out his protein post redpoint. Laughably another less serious man chose to break out the Sloe Gin. As ever my wishlist is expanding at an unstoppable rate. This can only be a good thing right? It is an indicator of psych. The main issue will be when I have to pick something meaty (oh look at that, pick on vegans Friday already?). I've got a few more excuses (this is the river and the other line into it) for staying away from the burl or the tech but they won't last long, a couple of sessions at best (worst?). Then I'm lost:

Unleashing looks fantastic.
K3 - tempting but every man and his dog seems to be on this one route, queing isn't fun
RnP - supposedly better?
and the big one...
Monumental - it looks fantastic

Other things on the list are:
Spider
Lockless - hopefully a quick affair?
HFC - this should be done and is grating away at me

I wouldn't mind swinging around the main roof at Kilnsey either, if only for an onsight blast as I'm sure the frigging will get tiring in more than a few ways. The chances of me getting on, let alone completing all of these routes is slim to none. The spider can wait until later in the season and HFC will be avoided until I know for certain it'll get done instantly, another day spent on that and I will lose the will to live. BUT, the Cornice needs full appreciation while its in condition.

Being a complete amateur, my boots are now well and truly ruined. I've got one pair of ok ish dragons, a new pair and an ill fitting pair of verde's. This needs rectifying in some way between now and holiday.

Right better go, funnily enough I'm at the Cornice tomorrow.

Van Conv.

Can't be bothered to insert all of the tags for the recent conversion pics. If you're interested they're here:

http://bit.ly/bN48l4

Got offered a years secondmant today in Stuttgart. Anyone know of the climbing situation Jura/Pfalz both two hours away?

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.

Dream of White Horses (fancy a spot of riding?)

Very tired today after having a monster weekend at Gogarth. We left Sheffield at 10pm on Fri night after sorting plenty of last minute van things (including a stove). We arrived later at the South Stack lighthouse to see nought but fog and a beam of light cutting through it. I tried to capture this but failed miserably (repeat after me; manual focus).

Lighthouse, Gogarth, South Stack from Bennp2000 on Vimeo.

I also spent a small age trying to figure out how to use rear curtain sync to take a photo of Nat with a slow burn and then flash her in. Again I failed as canon doesn't offer that off-camera apparently?

Day 1 (or Saturday as its more commonly reffered to) was spent at Wen Zawn and the nearby areas. For the popularity of our first route we were (pleasantly) surprised to be the first people on the crag and the only team that appeared later went on Wen anyway. As everyone surely does, we viewed the Zawn from the promontory which somehow managaes to offer a viewpoint that reveals none of the obvious bedding planes you can see instantly from the ab. I'd advise gearing up somewhere other than the top of the ab itself, the approach and scramble down is atmospheric to say the least.

Dream itself is fantastic, the final pitch crosses territory that it really shouldn't (at the grade) and set the tone for the remainder of the routes (and moreover the weekend). Later on we headed to the Britomartis area and did a few routes here. A route finding accident left me on slightly harder territory at one point but apart from knowing I was in the wrong place I was fairly happy.

Not a terrible photo given you can't tell what you're taking using our horrendous little Fujifilm, the lack of viewfinder makes it impossible to know what you're taking a picture of when you're outside. It is however, waterproof should it go for a swim (I felt like testing this at more that one point).

Some helpful sole asked to use our ab rope which of course was not an issue until later that day when I came to take it up and found they'd left a nice big overhand knot in the bottom of it. Of course it got stuck and I got pretty angry.

The weather on Day 1 was fantastic (as above) with little wind. However Day 2, was somewhat contrasting. Despite the sky and ocean being stupendously blue, the wind made the whole Zawn a lot colder and a trifle more intimidating. The wind literally emptied my chalkbag as a gust came through the arch and straight upwards, showering the top of the crag in superchalk. I could see on a colder day with stormier sea's that these areas could get rather intimidating to say the least.

As Nat decided that The Flytrap (despite my best persuasion techniques i.e. Bitburger) wasn't one for her after our slightly harder route finding fail the day before we opted to do another route on the Zawn. Concrete chimney. Again this takes a line through territory that looks rather unlikely at the ameanable grade that it gets and it felt fairly exposed on the lower arete with the wind doing its best to try and unerve us both. It failed with me (medal?) but mightily pissed me off as I found I had to place a cam to keep what should have been a bomber sling in place! Nat was a little unnerved and below the final pitch we had a quick chat to check she was ok continuing (instead if slinking off onto Dream). It wasn't wholly clear if she was entirely happy but I couldn't be arsed waiting for it to clear anyway. I'm glad we didn't slink off as crossing through another unlikely set of overlapping slabs and roofs is one of the finest pitches I've ever done. Afterwards we called it quits and headed back Sheffside exhausted, the van having served us perfectly over the weekend.

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