Utter pessimism?

Regular readers (you poor fools) might notice that I occasionally pass comment and critical analysis on the weather, and given I'm living in Scotland and trying to climb good trad in great areas, such comment tends to be contempt and such analysis tends to be justifiably extremely critical. This moaning and whining and ranting is quite simply a natural reaction to an often ridiculous state of affairs, and whilst it might not make good reading, it does make necessary writing.

It also seems to attract bizarre and outrageous accusations ranging from the spurious ("You chose to move to Scotland") to the obscene ("It's just the weather why moan about it") and downright defamatory ("You are totally wrong about last year's washout"). I'm not sure how people can get away with such....libel but at least I can set the record straight.

To set the setting straight, let's be clear on what "good" weather necessarily entails in the context of Scottish climbing. Given the whole point of Scottish climbing is trad climbing (cragging in my case) in the Highlands and Islands, taking in the approximate Elipse Of Extreme Excitement from Glasgow to Mull to Ardnamurchan to Skye to Lewis to Sheigra to Ardmair to Creag Dubh to Glasgow, naturally enclosing the areas of utmost importance like Glen Nevis, Torridon and Gairloch.

Good weather doesn't require months of amazing conditions, long summers of hot dry weather, or any other spurious nonsense that fools might accuse me of expecting. It DOES entail having two or more consecutive dry days in that area, when the rock is dry enough to climb and the season is warm enough for trad. NOT long periods of sunshine and showers where you might just sneak in a route per day when the rain stops. NOT single days interspersed with rain which is fine if you're a local but plain unfeasible for a 4 hour journey. NOT an amazing spell in December when it's dry but below 0'c. NOT good weather along the East coast as while there is good climbing there it is a wet weather escape and often dry in the East is wet in the West.


Look! Scotland in the sunshine! Isn't it pretty! But in a climbing context... This is the start of March, still too cold for normal trad - that doesn't make it a good year. This is after a day of heavy showers and light snow, not a sustained period of dryness - that doesn't make it a good year. This is down near Stranraer, notoriously escaping the wetness that blights the most important Scottish climbing areas - that doesn't make it a good year.

So, two or more consecutive dry days with dry rock. Preferably three or more for Skye, or a short week for Lewis. Quite a low standard so even more ridiculous when Scotland fails to meet it. In that context let's look at the last couple of years and the climbing days I got out during the spring/summer/autumn period, in the Eclipse Of Excellence, on 2+ day trips:

2010:
April: 2
May: 3
June: 4 + 2
July: 0
August: 0
September: 6 + 3
October: 3

= 21 North West 2+ day trip days.

Bear in mind there was plenty of shit showery weather throughout the summer. By English standards this was fairly mediocre. By Scottish standards it was probably normal, and actually tolerable. Also bear in mind I spent all of August pissing around at Dumby so might have missed weather windows then.

2011:
April: 4 + 4
May: 0
June: 0
July: 2
August: 0
September: 0
October: 0

= 10 North West 2+ day trip days.

Bear in mind that this year I had more keen climbing partners and more determination to explore areas, as can be seen from taking advantage of the single month of summer in April. However I did miss a short dry period in early July, though that would have hardly caught up much.

Hmmm. Even I hadn't realised how low this was! Nor the difference. Suffice to say that when I say last year was bollox I am....totally right.

Despite my utter pessimism I will still keep my fingers crossed for this year, of course. Because despite it all, Scotland is ace and Scottish cragging is ace :).

Annus Demi-Horribilis.

Or should that be Anus Demi-Horribilis??

This year has been a year of two halves for me:

Part 1:

Malta - great
Later winter bouldering at Ruthven Boulder, Loch Sloy, Clashfarquar etc - very nice and satisfying
Pedriza - great
Long weekend in Mull - superb, best Scottish trip all year
Long weekend in Gairloch - very good
Long weekends in Caithness and Stranraer - good
Sweden - super-awesome
Brief trip to Creag Dubh and Camel - good
Generally maintaining an enjoyable E3 standard every trip out - pleasing
Losing a few pounds in Sweden - reassuring

Part 2:

Terrible weather all summer - suckage
No trips to Lewis / Skye / Ardnamurchan / Glen Nevis - suckage
No Indian Summer respite - suckage
A couple of decent trips to Aberdeen and local crags - pretty good
2 weeks of dry weather in November - some respite for bouldering
Increasing weight gain - very demoralising
Decreasing fitness - very demoralising
TCA opening - great training and a useful mercy
Exploring the County bouldering - good
Hard work changing medication to reduce weight gain - just plain hard
Persistent man-flu / throat/chest infection - suckage

It's pretty simple:
Good weather and trips away = good health and good spirits = right.
Terrible weather and less climbing = bad health and bad spirits = wrong.

Incidentally, my other interests have been pretty fun this year - have painted some cool figures, listened to some great drum'n'bass / hardcore / metal, and played a lot of good PC games - all of which is nice and passes the time during the incessant rain / rest days, but as fun as all those things are, they play supporting roles, not the main performance.

I've realised that the regular climbing lifestyle is not just important to me as it's the biggest inspiration to me, it's essential to me as an active lifestyle that balances out my mental and physical health issues. I am who I am and that is what's right for me.

Something Terrible

Obviously if you harm others, that is something terrible. I don't consciously harm others by my actions - despite plenty of desire and temptation (overtaking lane morons, I'm looking at you).

But I sometimes do terrible things. If you take away harming others, what else is there?? Harming yourself: through self-neglect, through self-inhibition, through wasting time and a finite life, through not being true to oneself, through not doing the right things to benefit oneself.

Not harm by direct action, but harm by a lack of action. A lack of positive, rewarding, satisfying, healthy, beneficial, true-to-self action.

I do this and thus I do something terrible. This is....part of my personality. A flaw in me, in an otherwise fairly smart, capable, and inspired being. It has always been this way and for many years I have been working on overcoming it - maybe in many years time I will overcome it!

Obviously this applies to climbing very much, as an inspired passion that involves action and training and input and effort. I'm posting this because it was brought home recently, after a couple of weeks of doing fuck all and feeling pretty unhappy with myself, I went to the wall and was fat and weak but at least I was doing something. Listening to that tasty track above on the drive home highlighted that at I wasn't doing something terrible that evening...

Three things...

...that say it all:

1.


2.


3. (An oldie but totally timeless)

DARK MAVIS says:
FUCKING BOLLOX BRITISH FUCKING CUNT WEATHER
DARK MAVIS says:
FUCKING WET ALL NEXT CUNTING WEEK
DARK MAVIS says:
CCCCUUUUUNNTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
Fiend says:
they should quote that on metcheck

The Dismal End.

It is now mid-September, the definitive, quintessential, Indian Summer time. When the showery frustration and occasional mugginess of July and August give way to the settled mellow warmth of early Autumn, when the crags have slowly but finally dried and seepage is at bay, when the midges are satisfyingly dying out, when the second great weather window of the year opens and allows some of the best climbing times.

As I write this, the tail end of a fucking HURRICANE is ripping through Glasgow like a cataclysmic expulsion of weather god diarrhoea, spraying 5cm deep torrents of rain on 70mph gusting winds. Oh but don't worry, there is a good weather window coming for a couple of days.....and then it's straight back to pissing SHIT again.

The dismal end to a dismal summer that never even started. A summer where everything seemed deceptively stacked in my favour: Last year felt like a recovery year from DVTs, this felt like a year where I was going to really get into climbing and progress and enjoy. I had plentiful and diverse inspiration for further exploration and nearer challenges. Following last years's dabblings, I had varied and succinct places to visit: A week on Lewis, long weekends in Skye, Caithness and Ardnamurchan, weekends at Glen Nevis and Creag Dubh - remarkably little to ask for an entire summer in which I had plenty of time. I also had - eventually - plenty of keen partners to explore with.

Time. Inspiration. Fitness. Plans. Partners.

All meaning fuck all without any reliable weather (since April, apart from that couple of weeks in July).

Some people seem to get berateful or bemused at my dismay with this dismality. "But it's Scotland, what do you expect??" Well I expect something better than the coldest summer in Scotland since 1993....a climbing contact said it had been the wettest summer in Fort William for 25 years and given the astronomical amount of aborted attempts to meet up and climb, I believe her.

If I was only into going to the gym, training at the climbing wall, pottering on local crags, going swimming, painting toy soldiers, listening to drum and bass and techno and metal, playing computer games, playing pool, hanging out in cafes and occasionally restaurants, chatting shit online and offline etc etc, then SURE the weather wouldn't be a problem... But I'm not - I'm also, and mostly, and genuinely, into exploring crags all over the country and beyond. Exploration which requires more than the occasional dry afternoon to justify the journey and punishing petrol prices.

So, yes, this really does suck for someone with my tastes and inspirations. It sucks for all of us climbers. I hope the suckage comes to an end soon, with at least some respite.

Leisurely climbing at Loudon.

I had a terrible thought recently. I've been getting a few decent local days out, and I suddenly realised that it would be theoretically possible for me to be one of those smug patronising twats who, after a typically abysmal non-summer, whitters on with crap like "What was the problem with the weather? I got out a few times every week, it was fine" as if their myopic and insular repeat visits to the same local crag in between showers did the term "getting out" any form of justice.

So, make no mistake, the weather is fucking appalling. Sure I got out last Thursday evening, and yesterday afternoon in nice fresh dry weather, but Friday was pissing down, Saturday was pissing down, Sunday was constant showers, and today is so pissing down it makes Friday look like the Sahahra. Local cragging is keeping my hand in but it is in no way the sort of proper trips that a summer is for.

Anyway, Loudon. Finally got out with B, whose regular mid-week days off usually coincide with the rain when we've planned to climb, but not yesterday. It was quite fine at Mount Loudon despite a bit of mugginess on the walk-up (and maybe a bit hot and bothered after overshooting the A71 junction and ended up South of Ayr...). B was keen for trad mileage, I was keen for more treading water, and we followed that keeness, conquering Mount Loudon via 7 good routes, culminating in finally laying Epitaph Sodding Variation to rest. This was quite pleasing because last summer I had a right flap on it before reversing off, this time although quite hard it just worked naturally. So I guess I am maintaining a steady level. Hopefully this will set me up for pushing things a bit....at some distant point :S

La Pedriza 9.

Today's kitty of the day is....small ginger and white (cute despite gammy eye).

Today we couldn't get into the damn Pedriza park. At the main entrance there was the usual gridlock queue (surely mostly walkers....if you're that keen on walking then just park up and fucking WALK you dickwads and let the climbers get in to climb....this applies to Llanberis and Burbage and everywhere else in the world too), and the village entrance was barricaded by police FFS. So we spun round and headed back to the lime and explored a different valley crag that was thrumming with other climbers but seemed to have enough easy routes to soak up the ceaseless tide of punterdom (us included). We pulled on plentiful pockets and rattled off several shady routes which made for a good back-up day. Tomorrow an early rise, a hope that the devoutly religious Spaniards keep away, and a swift morning slabbing it up before a long drive to a late flight...

Climbing: Lots of steady pockety routes, fun but not much that really left it's mark apart from a cool little roof with awkward jamming in it (that the locals seem to avoid by a much harder duo pocket lock).

Wildlife: Camping kitty #12 - small, black and scruff (kinda cute, funny stare, pissed all over the hire car), and that's about it.

And: 8th day on and still syked, I was keen to push it more this afternoon if there had been anything else inspiring. Mmmm climbing is good yes.

La Pedriza 8.

Today's kitty of the day is small mongrel (annoying and hissy). A controversial choice but she is such a regular feature that it seems fair.

Let's play a game. Grab a blank granite slab, a pair of rock shoes, and a dice. Yes, a dice, you know, standard D6 that you roll to see if your Orcs hit with their axes or your Space Marine was saved by his armour. Got that? Good.

Pick a smear. Take your time if you like, there are many to choose from, but be aware there will be subtleties and factors you have no idea of that will randomise your choice. Now, roll your dice....you don't get to see the result, but you will feel it's effect:

1 - 3 : Your foot sticks.

4 : Your foot just sticks but has set you off balance, add +1 to your next roll.

5 - 6+ : Your foot slips and you fall off.

Now, assuming the result was 1 - 4 and you stayed on, pick another smear, and roll again (maybe with that +1 modifier you're not aware of), and again. And again. And again and again and again.

THIS is Pedriza. This is what we face on the slabs.


Climbing: 4 slab routes, including my first F6b+ (which was very good), but 3 failures on F6b/+s. The game of chance....bad luck to fall and fail, good luck to stick and succeed....roll the dice. Plus rounded off with a few minor but fun steep routes at a roadside crag. Good overall!

Wildlife: The usual motley crue with no change and no new kitties.

And: Despite wearing a t-shirt (or perhaps because of, since it was my hideous yellow Fiend t-shirt), I have more sunburn and have just eaten my own bodyweight in a very garlicky potato stew. Good luck me sleeping tonight :S

On The Merits Of Being Shit.

At the moment, I am shit.

My fitness is shit - I feel physically sluggish in general, I am a tigger without a bounce. I've slacked off on the CV training and with my leg issues I can't afford to do that.

My climbing fitness is shit - I get pumped and tired so much quicker than normal. Not just on routes, even on boulder problems, I get out of breath.

My weight is shit - I'm the heaviest I've ever been, more than a stone heavier than 3 years ago. And not all of that is pure beefy muscle :(

My strength is shit - Probably due to the weight issue, but I really can't seem to haul my lardy arse in an upwards direction. I dread to think how few pullups I can do.

My skin is shit - but that's normal heh.

My attitude is shit - I still think I can climb as well as I have during the better points of this year....deluded, I go into each session kidding myself I'm better than I currently am. I'm not adjusting to my new physical needs, I'm not dedicated enough to training in various ways.

My technique....isn't any more shit than usual - I do feel I'm moving okay on rock and in touch with what balance and footwork I usually have.

My finger strength....isn't as shit as the rest - I do feel that I can hang on smallish holds, just can't pull very far on them.

My inspiration....isn't shit - I do feel happy that I've got so inspired by bouldering over winter, AND I'm getting syked and getting ideas for next spring too. Definitely "true to self".

OH DEAR.

As Duncan Disorderly is fond of saying, "You can't have fun when you're weak". I could never really identify with that. But now, for the first time ever, I might even be weaker than Dunc. That is a dirty, sordid feeling with an unwholesome air of inherent wrongness.

Basically I have to wake up and put some fucking effort in. The good thing about being weak is you can get strong, the merits of being shit are that you can improve, progress, and learn. What I need to learn is to get into good habits of overall physical activity and training - not just climbing, but general training that will crucially benefit my health and undoubtably benefit my climbing too. IF I can learn to that, that will be very good. If I can't, I will just have to keep trying and battling with my bad habits.

I think my climbing desires are in touch with the season.

I think my climbing needs are also in touch with the season.

I now need to address those needs so I can meet those desires.

Bloody long walk-in to Ben Ledi.

Ben Ledi bouldering is somewhat unusual compared to the schist I've discovered so far. Smeggy sit-start lowballs?? Nope, good high - and often highball - proper boulders. Abstract and unconvincing eliminates?? Nope, proud distinct lines and sheer walls. Snappy flakey rock hidden under slightly more solid lichen?? Nope, clean rough compact schist. Random unmanageable and ankle-hostile boulder jumbles?? Nope, all situated on a fine plateau just 5 minutes from a good track.

So....what's the catch?? Oh yes, getting to that fine plateau, via that good track. The bouldering guide says 30mins on the map and 40mins in the introduction (the bouldering guide is similarly useless when it comes to the walk-in path and the grades of lower grade problems). Lowland Outcrops says 50mins. I say an a full hour if you're stomping it, and at least 1hr 30mins if you're me and you've got fucked legs. Throw in two bouldering mats and a sweltering afternoon sun, and throw out any pretense at being able to bear down when I finally got there. Pity as it was quite inspiring in both the setting and more importantly the climbing. I might go back but it will require a greater logistical overview (probably including a power nap and cans of Red Bull!). On the plus side, the stomp, combined with bonus gym session in the morning, was some good cross-training that will hopefully encourage good crushing.

In the meantime, here is Charlie Baker trying to decide on his next bouldering venue, preferably with a shorter walk-in and more tasty meat nibbles:

Fucking crap at Floors Craig.

If these 10m mid-grade routes are just a wee bit steep, then why are the ab ropes so bloody far out from the cliff??


Because they're a bit more than "a wee bit" steep. More like ridiculously bloody steep. I've not really been on anything like it, nor seen much like it apart from Sanctuary Wall. Yeah this is like a mini mid-grade Sanctuary Wall. Sport climbing without bolts, and all close enough to the hard rock platforms that every bit of gear is crucial, you've got to get it right and get it right ASAP, oh and it's schist so all the holds are blind and obscure despite being generally good. Throw in a lack of chalk and a whiff of haar and it all adds up to a climbing experience which is utterly hostile to my climbing style.

I want to like this climbing, I really do. I like the coast, I like the rock, I like the look of it....I like the theory of it. I'm just crap at it. Fucking crap in fact. I think I've got my arse at least slightly kicked every time I've visited Aberdeen, and I don't mean a night out baiting the onshore offshore workers. This time swap "slightly" for "utterly" and you get the gist. 3 fairly steady warm-up routes failed on, and the bigger challenges that inspired me might as well be left for my next lifetime, preferably one where I'm reincarnated as a sea-gull. So that all sucked.

What it all boiled down to is some obvious weaknesses that are exposed - and brutally buttfucked - by this sort of terrain:

1. Fear of falling.
2. Fear of committment to a position where I might fall.
3. Lack of faith in what might lie above.
4. Lack of faith in my ability.
5. Slowness and faff placing gear.

So as always I need to learn positively from this to gain more climbing pleasure. I need to tackle this sort of terrain more, I need to do more falling practice, focus consciously on placing gear smoothly, and train my weaknesses. I also probably need to spend more time on the coast and get to grips with the rock and hopefully progress (up to square one, hah!) on it and truly enjoy it. I expect the usual "wet in the west" weather will give me some opportunity to do so.

You can't have fun when you're weak...

...and bloody hell I didn't know it was possible to get THIS weak!! I should have paid more attention to The Path Of Weakness when I was hanging around with Duncan Disorderly... I've been out climbing a couple of times in Scotland and it feels any progress I'd previously made has been swamped by the logistical mess I'm trying to sort out moving to Glasgow, and the subsequent distressing lack of climbing and training.

The mind is willing, the desire is strong, but the flesh is oh so weak - or more like, oh so unfit. I'm getting unfeasibly pumped on routes I would have considered beneath my dignity as gentle warm-ups a few months ago, and have ended up slumped on a rope or collapsed at the top of a route, hyperventilating with exhaustion on a few occasions. When I'm nauseous with the pump and my vision goes funny on a slabby F6a+ (do grades really go that low??), there is definitely something wrong. And this wrongness is definitely down to my legs and the aftermath of the DVT clots (steep walk-ins are still a multipitch affair), and it is becoming clear that I am hanging on to what little fitness I've regained by a thin thread. I obviously need to keep up with exercise and realise what a long and uphill journey (although I'll stick to flatter walk-ins) lies ahead.

However, there is some hope. This situation is fairly reminiscent of when I broke my foot in summer 2005 and was hobbling back to fitness in the autumn - about the same time as now I was struggling just as hard on routes just as easy... And over winter, I trained, got my strength back, climbed well in early spring and then started my best climbing years ever in that next spring. This time, regaining CV fitness might be a lot harder, but my summer climbing experiences have been a bit more consistent, I've got several years more climbing "wisdom" (yes, really!) and I'm in an area with a better choice of mileage routes (in 2005 I ended up going to Clwyd limestone for a long weekend's mileage....Glen Nevis or Gairloch are somewhat more appealing choices!).

And of course, there's a follow on motto to this blog title:

You can't have fun when you're weak...

...But the great thing about being weak is you can get STRONG!

Battered like sausage, beaten like egg.

Result: Fiend omelette. Delicious, nutritious, and with all your essential saturated fats guaranteed.

The recipe for turning Fiend into mincemeat was demonstrated this weekend. Take an overhanging slanting jamming crack, arrange the crack so that many good hand jams are visible in the first half, and arrange the rock strata to give the impression of being slightly overhanging, all to imbue the victim/ingredient with a sense of awe and confidence. Stir said ingredient into the mix and slowly puree along 15m of mild hand crushing. As things start coming to the boil, widen the crack and increase the angle to ensure upper limbs are adequately tenderised, then briefly simmer in a traumatic leg searing niche, allowing the exposure and exhaustion to pulverise any firmness left in the meat. Serve hanging on the rope....and for dessert ensure that the only method of retrieving ropes is a 2 hour epic of abseiling, retrieving ropes, prussiking, and semi-seconding said horror.

For a digestif, finally abseil off and realise the whole crag overhangs by many metres, including the so-called slabby niche that is merely overhanging slightly less than the rest.


Next time I'm taking a sodding protractor or surveying equipment so that when insidious thoughts like "it overhangs a little bit" and "that niche looks like a good rest" bubble up into my mind, I can get a grip on REALITY first!!

Suffice to say, I was beaten fair and square. I tried hard, but it was too hard. Too exhausting overall, too wild, too blind and committing a finish to deal with when I was that knackered....and stressed.

In fact, in common with the previous weekend's debacle/failure (yes, there was one, obviously), the key factor was discomfort/stress. This week it was overall exhaustion, arm pain from the climbing and leg pain from the hideous niche that meant I couldn't recover. Last week it was extreme foot pain on a slate slab that meant I could not stand around and work out crux moves. Both situations required time - time spent in one area, working out moves (and letting limbs recover) - and a clear head to deal with the challenges. And in both situations there was unavoidable discomfort, discomfort that made spending that time increasingly hard, AND created stress and that stress clouded my mind so I couldn't work out how to progress.

Clearly there is a lesson to learn there. Dealing with discomfort and stress: partly by preparing better, but mostly by dealing with it as it happens, accepting and allowing the discomfort, but not succumbing to it, keeping the mind calm even as the body is pressured. Not easy at all, but recognising the issue, it is something to work on.

But there is also another lesson....both situations may have been resolvable by pressing on quickly, in an uncertain and unlikely way, with a chance of progressing to somewhere to recover, but with a high risk of falling off....so why didn't I do that...

Slate

Alas, poor slate, I knew it well. Not very well, as an outsider and a relative youth, but intimately in my own way. I knew it as a fascinating and obscure medium, a venue of mystery and magic, of brilliant climbing amidst industrial wreckage, of climbing quality masked by the rainy day tag and the lure of the mountains, of eerieness and quietness and exploration and intrigue.

And now?? The rock is still there - if you can see it past the crowds and bolts - but the magic is going.

This may be due to retro / re / grid bolting and the seemingly determined attempts to turn it into the Portland of Snowdonia, but also due to fashion. Fashion and trends and crowd following and suddenly a once mystical area is swamped by hordes of braying Londoners and Brummies, gangs of students and beginners who can't resist the newly bolted 4+ slabs, girls who like crimpy bloody slabs, and vapid UKC sheep full of internet information and empty in soul and spirit, all queuing for routes and blethering on about their latest big ticks and big numbers, all overgraded and overbolted of course.

Why was I there? Convenience, guilty as charged for that, but also my partner's desire which I trust is an older and purer one than many. Still, I will keep coming back, with partners when they need to, and maybe the new guide will highlight some interesting options and spread the load...

Defeat.

This morning I drove back from Font after our 4 day New Year trip there.

30+ hours driving
£180 in fuel
1 ½ days climbing
2 days walking around in drizzle and clag
5 peeling finger-tips
4 hours of bad sleep this morning

Was it worth it?

No.

It was the most promising start to a Font trip ever - driving down from Dunkirk to Paris it was -5°C all the way (apart from when it was -6), even when the sun came up, and Monday was a perfect winter sun day. There had been a last-minute forecast of "30% chance of snow showers" on Tue/Wed, which in theory shouldn't have been a problem given the icy temps and bone dry rock. But the reality defied all theory and indeed all common sense. Despite Monday night being at least -2°C if not colder, it somehow rained overnight, which promptly froze, completely fucking up the next few days. Thus Tue and Wed were spent reccing a damp forest - useful for future visits but little consolation really. We managed to find enough dry rock for a few hours bouldering before the ferry on Thu, but it was too little too late.

The company was good, the gite was good, and the food was pretty good. The one ambition I achieved was not bouldering but eating: I finally cooked myself some horse - with Sloper's recommendation on the cooking method - and it was surprisingly mild and melt-in-the-mouth tender. Hurrah. But having an exciting, celebratory, New Year's bouldering trip in the Forest dissolve away into grey, damp, retreat was pretty shit. I'd like to be more philosophical about this but a combination of frustration, cheesemares, long late night drives and general knackeredness has left me feeling pretty bleak today.

When this passes, I'll be able to take in the New Year more, and have some positive, productive thoughts on it.

Predictions

Warning: shameless arrogance ahead :).

Edit: make that monstrous arrogance, even worse because I'm probably right ;).

So. I speculate, ponder, discuss, muse, and debate on many things within climbing. Possibly due to liking climbing a lot and being heavily involved with it, probably due to having a restless mind. Some of which pondering and indeed discussing involves strong views on the state of climbing, issues of the day, and a status quo that may or may not change. It seems to me quite often that I argue issues (or merely think on them in private), and later see those issues be recognised, or changed so that my way of thinking matches them, or come to pass in a way I could have predicted. Obviously coincidence but it makes me wonder if I'm actually quite often "on the mark" when it comes to climbing issues...

< pauses and neatly side-steps the torrent of bilious contempt and eye-rolling disbelief as it flows through the virtual ether >

...thus I've decided to write down a few issues that I seem to have predicted, and a few predictions of trends that may come to pass in the future. Just for the record, just in case.

Have happened:

Bouldering mats & grades.
When bouldering mats started to become common and people started to use them to vastly reduce the danger and grade of solo routes, I argued continually and vocally (in the face of plentiful disagreement) that grades should be re-assessed to take into account this new protection type...
...and in recent years BMC guidebooks have now got a dual grade system for such routes, and many more solos are being re-evaluated as highball boulder problems.

Onsighting being revalued.
From the time I started debating on the internet, I've always argued in favour of onsighting and against wide-spread headpointing being de-rigeur, again in the face of plentiful disagreement...
...and in recent years, there seems to be a movement across highlighting stylistic progressions, and favouring onsighting and against wide-spread headpointing.

Hard Grit sequel: Hard Onsighting.
Following the excitement of Hard Grit, mates and I would commonly chat about what would be next and would there be a sequel etc etc. I said that there should definitely be a Hard Onsighting film, with the same drama and glamour, but showing the onsighting side of climbing...
...and this year OnSight has been released.

Slate revival.
When I started climbing regularly on slate, it was a well regarded rock type, but still seemed like a bit of a covert rainy day option sort of rock. However I loved the stuff and would actively go to climb on slate alone (i.e. in the Lakes, I had pure slate weekends)...
...and recently it seems to have become increasingly popular, with people valuing it in the same way, in it's own right.

Lancs quarries revival.
A few years ago, similar to slate, I took to the Lancashire Quarries like a duck to (slightly green) water. Again they were used in a "local" sort of way, but online at least I seemed to be one of the few people promoting them to the whole "day-trippable" area, and started getting involved with the clean-ups...
...and now it seems they have more general acceptance and respect.

Rock Warrior's Way acclaim.
A while ago I was recommended this book by a couple of people. It was hard to find and going out of print at the time. I got a copy, was hugely impressed by the issues it tackled and the attitudes it highlighted and started, well, preaching about it to many people...
...and since then more people seem to have noticed it, it's been reprinted, and seems more popular.

Slate re-bolting concerns.
When the recent slate re-bolting / retro-bolting become prominent, I started a thread on UKClimbing asking what sort of consensus process was going on and what the reasoning and planning was for the retro-bolting. This turned into a pretty bitter debate between other people, in particularly the slate activists, not least Mark Reeves decrying it as a "puerile thread"...
...and about a year later, Mark Reeves starts his own thread expressing clear worries about the amount of retro-bolting and new sport routing that has gone on, exactly proving my initial concerns about the way the process was going.

Are happening:

Concerns over gear and safety.
A while ago I was involved in a couple of scary and traumatic accidents that should never have happened in the normal climbing procedure. Following this, and following looking on the Mountain Rescue websites to see just how many unreasonable accidents were occurring, especially due to gear ripping on safe routes, I personally took a stance of getting people to get it right rather than keeping quiet for the sake of tact. And I could see that this would likely become and increasing issue in the future...
...and it seems to becoming so. Many such accidents are still being reported, and people seem to be waking up to the issue and questioning why this is all happening and what can be done about it.

Brushing holds at The Works.
When The Climbing Works first opened, I was impressed with, and praised, the quality of the wall, but pretty soon pointed out that it had a big problem with how dirty the holds were getting. When I posted this online I was pretty much shouted down by people who didn't think I should be criticising an otherwise excellent facility...
...and these days there are signs up to encourage people to brush, brushes lying around everywhere, many people I know see it as a problem (albeit minor), and whenever Graeme catches me scrubbing away he expresses his approval.

May (will?) happen in future:

Culm Coast / Greywacke.
This stuff is the business. I predict it will become increasingly popular, both along mighty Culm Coast and also the South West Scotland sea-cliffs. Why?? Ever-popular crimpy slabs, people already love Carreg-Y-Barcud which is the same stuff, delightful locations, top quality climbing once people realise it's there.

Quarried Limestone.
Lots of limestone around but to be honest a lot of inland stuff is bollox. But surprisingly amongst the lime quarries there are some really good bits of rock and really fine climbing. I predict this will start to become recognised more. Why?? More retro-bolting of it, more information, and a trend towards pure technical climbing rather than the full mountain experience. I think people will catch on.

Hidden local gems.
I've found there have been great hidden gems all over the country, and made it my mission to seek them out. I predict, given the inherently good climbing quality, people will start paying more attention to them and actually travelling to do them. Why?? Improved guidebook information, improved publicity, it's mostly a knowledge thing and once that's out there...

Last minute flexible plans.
It's something I've always done: made plans at the last minute and made them flexible to cope with the rigours of the vengeful British weather. Sure, sometimes I'm left high and dry, but other times I'm able to be climbing high in the dry, rather than sticking with an unsuitable plan. I predict this will start to become more common. Why?? Partly increased information and communication, but partly people waking up and realising that just because you've arranged to go on a weekend in North Wales doesn't mean you should stick to that if it's forecast to piss down there and be bone dry in North Yorkshire.

Seeking esoterica when travelling is hard.
Again, something I do a lot of, and end up finding great climbing that's just off the radar or below the popularity threshold. I predict people will start doing more and more of this and esoterica will become more mainstream. Why?? Because weather, finance, and travelling constraints will make trips away harder and less reliable, and in the meantime people will start to run lower on local options. Once they're force to diversify to get their fix, they'll realise what quality is lurking around, and word will spread...

Hmmmm. There may be more. Be thankful I've forgotten them ;).

Guidebook purchase.

I bought my first Rockfax guide in a long while recently.

I'm not the biggest Rockfax fan mostly because they have a habit of releasing select guides that tend to focus on the honeypots (and anywhere with a load of so-so Chris Craggs & co new routes...) and ignore or even disparage other areas, thus concentrating the load and the crowds whilst allowing good climbing to fall into neglect by lack of attention. I also wasn't impressed with their focus on popularist guides to the Peak District, already well covered by BMC definitive AND select guides.

However I do approve of their guides to some areas that didn't have a good (English) guide already (e.g. Clwyd Limestone, my previous Rockfax purchase, or the Spanish guidebooks), and of course their general increase in guide quality and design which has had a great knock-on effect on the now-supreme quality of BMC guides. That "upping the ante" alone gets respect from me.

However, that effect hasn't knocked onto all guides, including Yorkshire Gritstone (very crude and old-skool and too local-feeling) and North East England and Northumberland (both improved design quality but patchy in accuracy and reliability (e.g. grades). Thus I bought the Rockfax Northern England guide which covers those areas. Fuck it, if other teams can't produce guides that feel trustworthy enough for me, then Rockfax will get more of my cash. Not that they're always reliable but the guide does feel like they've put the effort in - in particular presenting Yorkshire properly, and ironing out the obscurity of Northumberland. It's got me more syked for the areas too, which is always a good thing. Good photo-topos really help....the ball's in your court eh YMC!!