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.

Wankshitting hidden holds at Weem.

A free day and a decent forecast and two syked partners. I was keen to get somewhere either new and exploratory or with some rad challenges to get involved with. But the team-of-three-ness and a slow start precluded that, and Weem seemed suitable to keep the momentum going with convenient logistics (although it is a bloody hour and 40 minutes from Glasgow even with the new super-awesome fully open M80).

THe Secret Garden crag certainly is secretive, and the disorientating maze of rhodedndron (sp!) carnage and uselessly vague guidebook instructions made us glad of our personal tour guide Simon to lead the way, albeit sans requisitory machete. Once at the crag it was a pretty good day ticking almost all of it. I felt pretty fine on the trickier routes, and the blind and balancy schist is fairly relevant training.

The one that got away, well you'll never guess from the title, but it had a hidden fucking hold. I was up and down over this big roof so many times. Lots of holds, that soon ran out and ended up in the wrong place to pull over on some flat sloper notch thing. So many times trying to get the seemingly suitable hand on that hold. One final lunge for it it, one slump on the rope, one brief glance of the hidden slot on the right side of the hold, one piss-easy graunch over the lip. One small tourettical burst of swearing....for about 10 minutes. Ah well. Cheating fucking route ;)

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

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.

So this is me...

...fucking crippled.

I've had some medical check-ups in the last few days - vascular surgeon and haematologist appointments, with the usual anti-coag and doctor's appointments in between. I had some long discussions with the vasc and haem specialists, following a second MRI Venogram in December, and the summary is:

- My IVC (main vein from my lower body to my heart) is sealed and there is no possibility of opening it (this was to be expected).
- The clots in my legs are dissolving slowly, and will continue to dissolve over the next couple of years but...
- ...they are still present and are likely to be there for years if not lifetime (this is contrary to what I was told in Sheffield).
- The iliac veins in my pelvis are completely blocked and could remain blocked permanently.
- The surrounding collateral veins are taking up the blood flow and will develop over time (a long time?).
- There is nothing chemical nor mechanical which can be done to open these veins up nor speed up the process.

All of which explains why:

- I'm currently at 30% of fitness for running, and 20% for walking uphill, there has been little progress with this.

Which fucking sucks.

As if ONE fucking sealed major vein wasn't enough.

I asked a lot of questions and got the same answers each time: There is nothing that can be done, and my body will dissolve some but probably not all of the clots over time. What fitness I'll get back is completely unknown - it is likely to be more, but no-one can predict how much more. I'll be on warfarin for life, and continuing exercising a lot will be beneficial in helping clot dissolution and over-developing the collateral veins.

All of this encourages me to train hard, push myself harder, go on more trips, explore more, and tick BIGGER FUCKING NUMBERS. As much as my often-fragile mental state will allow - but whilst this might have ruined my leg fitness, it's not ruining my life nor my climbing.