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

Risk Quotient at Ratho Quarry.

Turned out to be higher than I expected... A fresh morning, a strong breeze, rain in the west but dry in the East, a keen partner passing through, a few hours to rattle off a couple of routes. The right ingredients for a sensible plan....but there are some factors outside the realm of planning, or even sense.

I started up a cool little arete route. Steady climbing with a bit of gear to a ledge at 9m, some more gear there, then 6m of classic arete laybacking to easy ground. Good for cool conditions, good to start on as there was a rest ledge to recoup.

So I tickled up the lower wall, and grappled the ledge. It was reassuring, a nice crack down the back for hands and protection. Cool. I yarded up and started to mantle. The ledge - a double pillow-size sheet of rock - started to peel away from the wall.

THE FUCKING LEDGE IS PEELING AWAY FROM THE WALL...!

I somehow dropped down without agitating it further, it somehow teetered back onto it's resting posture. I have no idea how....but I do know if it and me had come off, it would have badly injured me and could have fatally injured my belayer (who was in the standard pose, with helmet). GULP.

I outwitted the ledge mantle, stood on it (which was fine, pressing down), put some RPs in a seam, tip-toed up the upper arete, finished the route, abbed down, did a nice sport route, and left just as it started to rain. A good morning. I think. ???

County account...

...has been opened. For bouldering at least - I've done a few routes there before. One of my favourite self-indulgent stunts is waiting for people to ask me, an outsider, if I've ever climbed in Northumberland. "A little bit....only Back Bowden, Berryhill, Bowden, Callerhues, Corby's, Crag Lough, Curtis Crag, Drakestone, East Woodburn, Goat's Crag, Great Wanney, Jack Rock, Kyloe In, Kyloe Out, Peel Crag, Raven's Crag, Ravensheugh, Rothley, Sandy Crag, Selby's Cove, Simonside and South Yardhope" I answer with a poker face but without modesty. I still want to add Howlerhirst and Linshields to my list.

I've also done a few boulder problems there before, mostly at Kyloe In (when recovering from golfer's elbow) and Hepburn Out (when recovering - or thinking I was recovering - from DVTs). Both really rather good. Of course there is so much more than that, indeed a whole guidebook full of hugely innaccurate grades and "not to scale" maps etc etc, and to optimise winter climbing I've realised I need to explore the County a lot more. I've started with a visit to Dove Holes (the bouldering venue, not the Dove Dale caves nor the village near Buxton), despite a deluge overnight it was sunny and idyllic and indeed a bit warm for bouldering as shown in the video below, but pretty good fun. Alas I ran out of daylight / courage for the better and higher problems but I'll be back for sure.


In a generally very fine afternoon, one disappointment was my renewed punterness. This time I didn't need stamina of course, but did notice that I seemed to get tired and out of breath even on boulder problems. Partly due to the penis-grinding mantle top-outs, and probably partly due to not breathing well enough, but it is still rather odd. Particularly since I went to the gym on Thu night and had my best recumbent cycling / rowing fitness session so far. So why do I get so tired on 1 minute of strenuous bouldering?? Maybe this is the same issue as getting so tired in Arco?? Anyone got any thoughts??

aaaAAAaaAAaArco0o0o0o0o

I'm back from a long autumn sun bolt-clipping weekend in the Italian sport climbing mecca of Arco. There were many cool things over this mini-trip... Exploring a whole new area, the gorgeous scenery around the top of Lake Garda, 3 days of warm sunshine, hooning around in my tiny Fiat Scroto hire car (dropping it down into 2nd at 70kph to overtake being quite ineffectual fun, as well as trying to slide on mountain hairpin bends), eating ace pizza and other Italian delicacies, hanging out with my old mates and their wee monkey boy (e.g. after knocking over ice cream dish in a face-pulling contest: L: "Daddy are we BOTH idiots??"... D: "Yes....yes we are.") in a tiny little cabin, endless choadly banter and a fair bit of chilling out.

Note that something is missing from that list...the climbing?? Yes, the climbing. There was some. Not as much as I would have liked, and I was rubbish at it. I did a few routes, tackled a few challenges, and most of what I did was pretty good. Most of what I failed on was pretty good too, and there was more of that than I would have liked. D wasn't on form either, and so aptly put it "punters in crime" ! There were some general issues - the consensus was the grades were stiff, some areas were fairly polished and ludicrously overchalked, with their clientele having a particular bad habit of chalking every shite undulation on the rock EXCEPT the best holds, and climbing in the warm sun didn't help. Despite this I felt I was climbing technically fine, and with a fair amount of conviction (albeit the usual fear of falling even on sport routes). But I just seemed to get very pumped and rather tired pretty quickly, and I'm not really sure why.

Even before I left I was rubbish at Ratho and at other training. It seems odd that after a reasonable summer climbing I'm *less* climbing fit than before. The only possible suggestion was that I might just need a wee break. Maybe this is right although with my fucked up body it's really hard to tell what's best for my fitness. However....I'm doing that for now and will see what happens.

WHERE ARE MY NUTS??

Struck down.

Fucking hell.

A week ago, just after rotpunkting at The Tor, and just at the start of a week off, I felt the fittest I had for a couple of years. A few weeks of regular sport climbing and occasional running and a bit of hillwalking, and I felt noticably really good in my body. Lovely.

Today, a week later, I have barely been able to walk for 20 yards without excruciating pain and feeling exhausted, even with a crutch. Stairs have been agony and getting out a chair a major effort.

I have - completely randomly and for the first time in my life - a bout of sciatica, an impingement of the sciatic nerve in my lower back, affecting my leg as well. I have been to see my doctor Simon Connor (no, not THAT Simon Connor!!), and my osteo Kim, and they both say it's not a slipped disc, it's just a general impingement, and it should be fairly short term: A few days of total rest, a few more days of only gentle exercise, and a few weeks until it's totally clear. And it might not crop again for a long time.

Even so, to go from full fitness to being a cripple has been utterly shocking.

In the meantime I've been given 100 Co-codamol, 84 extra strong anti-inflammatories, and 14 Dimazepan - more drugs than a 90s rave!! With this and the doctor's/osteo's advice, the prognosis is fairly good given how grim today has been. And, trying to be positive, it's another useful challenge for me to deal with a bit of a shit time. Hmmmmm!!

7/12

Halfway through the year fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck fuck fuck fuck.

Esoterica / cancelled trips / exploration / some ticks off the list / UCAS applications / driving and more driving / changing plans / seemingly uninjured / new medication / quarries / redpointing / issues and more issues / inspiration vs reality / oppressive heat / missed opportunities / tempus fugit / fuck fuck fuck.

Incapable of comprehensible blogging.