Happier times

Rewinding a bit to earlier in the year, in that brief window post-lockdown-recovery and pre-MCL-and-elbow-injury, where things were bright and happy and full of climbing potential. Okay, okay, so things were mostly full of sitting on bolts at Peak Lime chossholes, but sometimes that sitting was interspersed with upwards motion and sometimes that motion resulted in success and confidence. Confidence that I was just about ready to apply to trad.....just before I found myself with two limbs out of action. Before then I'd just been dabbling, keeping my hand in, whilst using the sport for training, but still managed a few nice routes...

Frostbite, Wilton 2. 

I'd given this a thorough clean at last year's Wiltonfest (before trying to casually romp up Falling Crack, slipping off whilst casually clipping a cam, and ending up tangled in the rope, sizeable arse over tit, in front of Hank Pasquill, and then slinking off in a sulk). The diligence of my cleaning was rewarded as when I came back this year, it was both obviously unclimbed and obviously still in great condition. Thankfully a summer of anal retentive micro-beta note-taking about redpoint projects had erased all useful information gained from my abseil cleaning, so I could set off with a clear mind and discover that it was a very good, pushy little multi-crux two-star testpiece.

 

Jasper, Stoney Middleton

Notable for two reasons. The first was a sign that pushing myself regularly on sport was having some benefits: Coel was initially appalled by the idea - "You're REALLY warming up on an E3?!" - "Well yes, that's about F6b+, and I'm regularly warming up on/above that, and I can see the gear should be pretty obvious too". When F6c is not longer hard and F6b feels like a rest.... And yes it was fine, and yes this was a good indication I could have done okay this summer / autumn. Secondly....JASPER! My friends' Dunc and Berie's tabby tomcat whom I used to hang around with / cuddle / harass / get scratched by quite regularly when I lived in Sheff. Lovely grumpy old oaf! I'd always intended to climb this route with Duncan, but after a mere two days climbing with him this summer, he'd spannered his wrist with his mid-life crisis choice of skateboarding and trying to show off to teenagers, and I couldn't wait any longer. So sorry Dunc, but here's to the memory of Jasper <3.

Anyway....

It's now been nearly two months since I injured myself. I am still injured but things are easing off, just as the weather has started crapping out more reliably of course ;). Plentiful gym rehab, a fair bit of moorland romping / recceing, and sporadic light climbing is helping my knee feel more mobile and resilient, although I haven't tried running again after the last debacle. Easing right off on my climbing and tweaking my eccentric / rehab program is helping my elbow.....not get any more injured at least. Physio consultations imply it's not too bad, but it's certainly inhibiting me a lot. However there's a glimmer of hope! I started some tentative falling practise the other day (on lead, I'm still too wary bouldering) and that was fine on my knee swinging directly into the wall, so at least there is something (important) I can train. In the meantime, more bumbling recaps:

Piggy And The Duke, Crowden Towers

Coel was keen for Arabia, I was unusually willing to give Kinder a go as an alternative to the gym for leg rehab, so I forced myself up there. Fuck me it was grim. I had to rest 4 or 5 times on the final slog up Crowden Clough. No....it never gets any easier with DVTs. All I can do is be more gentle on myself and take it slower. Anyway, Arabia was in a howling gale, so we did a circuit of the South Eastern Edges, via this scenic sandbag, then on to Herford's Route on the Pagoda, an even worse sandbag on which the final ankle-breaking mantle-above-a-ledge had me seriously questioning whether this was sensible knee rehab, and finally down Jacob's Ladder and a vow never to go up there again until I've forgotten what the walk-in is like, which given I was just browsing Nether Tor whilst trying to find this route name, I might have already done, sigh.

Emmenthal, The Range

Now on to the proper stuff. Proper knee AND elbow rehab as it's ledge shuffling in the most ledge shuffly sort of way. Proper spirit-lifting mental rehab as as well as being easy it's also bonkers, fun, inspiring, characterful and intriguing. The weather was good, the scenery was lovely, Jodie and Kai were game for an adventure and liked the fun of it all, and we got to watch an amusing seal ruckus . And my knee only got one tiny twinge, standing up from rigging an abseil. Okay I did get multiple torso lacerations from failing to post myself through the chimney slot on Big G's The Old Steam Piano (one to go back for when it's dry), but it was a small price to pay. After warming up at The Range and another tentative but eventually pleasing day at Smurf Zawn, I managed to nourish my soul further doing Mantrap in Mousetrap Zawn which was just brilliant and my route of the year I think, cheers Luke for coming along for the ride. All of which was perfect, if expected, confirmation that adventurous / esoteric sea-cliffs are exactly what is good for my mind and body in the current state, despite the rarity of being able to rouse partners for such pleasures. It's still in my mind for some winter sun days (albeit depending on how draconian the Welsh covid-5G rules AND associated racist vigilante nationalism get too).

The Crunge, Craig Y Forwyn

Williams and Muzza P were bleating on about how great Craig Y Forwyn was. I turned up and almost all of it apart from the Great Wall looked like a direct and dire mixture between Wye Valley and Willersley. Ugh. Turns out that despite most of the crag being less aesthetically inspiring than a single hold on The Range, the rock is actually quite decent, full of hidden horizontal breaks, and actually climbs really well for limestone. I should have more faith given it's A55 / Llandudno area which is infinitely superior to any greasy crumble in the Pennine dales. Talking of which, the BMC should stop pissing around renovating the world's worst sport climbing on the fringes of Horseshoe, and instead purchase Forwyn main cliff, nuke all the ivy, install some bolt lower-offs, and purchase a caravan in the park below as a climber's mini-hut #realtalk

The day after we did a bit at Marine Drive and Crinkle Crags which was great as usual, saw a goat, lots more seals, wind turbines, etc etc. 

Anyway that's it for now. I'm cultivating a fine balance of being grumpy that I've missed getting away, but also being vaguely inspired for gritstone which is pretty essential at this time of year.