Winter Tales

The days go by, grey turns into black then into grey again. The weather comes and the days go, winter seems eternal but the sunrise of summer is on the horizon. The days are starting to get longer, the enduring bleakness slowly giving away to invasive patches of blue. But in the past few weeks winter came back with a vengeance and is currently in its final throes of death.

It was the week the so called beast from the east hit, winter climbing became the hot thing on social media and I was stoked to join in. I was attempting to head Manchester anyway as I was attending the wideboyz crack school, so when Eric messaged asking if I wanted to be dragged up an ice filled gully I jumped at the chance. It was the Monday after the storm when we headed out, knowing the ice was receding we headed to Wales, hoping some altitude might maintain the freeze.

The solemn gaze of an ice climber watching his paradise crumble and recede into the reality of its surroundings
Photo by Me

As we were driving over it wasn't looking promising, the odd patch of snow offered the only reminder of the savagery of the weather the week before. Parking at Ogwen it started to rain but been British and optimistic we grabbed the bags and headed up to Clogwyn Du. The drudgery of the approach and the sodden weather got me thinking of all the times I've been overly optimistic about conditions, was this going to be another foolhardy endeavour?

As we got to about 500m we noticed a frozen waterfall at the base of the final climb up to Clogwyn Du so we headed over to inspect. As we got closer it was looking good, the ice looked thick. Although the sound of running water was slightly disconcerting, but apparently that's normal. Eric gave me a quick masterclass in how to go upwards on ice and then set off leading up the three tiered ice fall of Cneifon Stream. Walking up it he made it look pretty easy whilst I suffered the full brunt of the Welsh rain. Luckily for once my jacket addiction paid off and the layers of Alpkit Primaloft meant I stayed pretty toasty. Once Eric had gone through the classic British struggle of finding an anchor he called for me to start up. Stuffing my drenched jacket into my seeping rucksack I grabbed the axes and started up.

Before the hot aches kicked in. Photo by Eric

The ice started to crumble as I took a tentative swing of the axe, it took a couple of swings and it sunk, to my knowledge it was bomber. Kicking my feet the ice didn't seem so secure but hey my hands were on jugs.  Kicking and smearing I moved up, repeating this process I made progress until the final vertical section. The line Eric had taken was looking worse for wear and the waterfall was returning to its natural state. So I thought I'd use the corner to the right, unfortunately this required actual technique. Utilising the scraps of my ability and strength I created movement and scraped upwards, an unsuccessful use of the knees being the only shameful moment. After I had recovered from an inevitable bought of hot aches we left the belay and scrambled up the grade 1ish gully to Clogwyn Du, which was fun apart from me almost sketching off the only vertical section due to another ill fated attempt at utilising the knees.

Winter makes easy things look gnarly Eric on another boss lead. Photo by Me

As we ascended we witnessed the transition from rain to snow and the damp British spring was replaced the full on alpine scenery. For our next adventure Eric chose a grade 3 gully at the top of a 45 degree snow slope. Hanging from a sling and setting up the belay I had a moment I haven't experienced since I started climbing. The feeling where you have no gauge of what is hard and what is easy, where everything feels like an adventure, I was so psyched. As Eric progressed up the gully the spindrift came raining down leaving me soaked and stoked to follow him on another steady lead. Leaving the sanctuary of the spike I made progress upwards bridging and using my rudimentary technique I started to feel like the movement was becoming more natural. Finding my way through the crux section using Erics tool marks like brail I felt the veil of mystery as to why everyone goes ice climbing was been lifted. Loving every motion and moment I still found myself missing the feeling of cold rock on bare fingers and the fluidity of moving up a dry stone, content yet conflicted I joined Eric in an awesome rime lined cave. He raced on up the easy snow slope above and channelling my inner Steck I joined him at the top. Picking our way down the steep slopes the snow was damp and sticky, making the descent slower and more arduous. Grabbing the packs we carried on, the snow becoming heavier and visibility poorer. We descended from the clouds and our imaginary alpine world, rain replaced the snow and reality settled in. As we walked out of the valley we could see the final strands of winter slowly loosening their grip on the world.

The Inevitable Woes of a Perma Psyched Climber in a Perma Soaked Isle

Winter is truly here we are 37 day's into 2018 I have been out climbing a grand total of 5 days. Its getting a little depressing but luckily I've got a new job to take my mind off it. It feels like its been raining all year. I'm so fed up with the persistent bad weather I'm trying my hand at fell running. Well when I say trying I've been out once it was hard and I suck at running up hills. I'm tired of the rain, I just want to climb all the time, when I'm not working  the weather doesn't play ball and I don't have easy access to a wall to train in. I need climbing, I need to be out, I need it to be dry. Oh the woes of a perma psyched climber.

Hopelessly Optimistic 

My last trip to the moors seems like a lifetime ago, having moved away from the area to sit in the rain somewhere else. The last crag I visited before I moved was Ingelby Boulders the day was dry-ish, the humidity was impressive, the cold ever present and the clouds thick grey and uninviting. Theoretically finding them should be easy just use the map in the guidebook. Unfortunately the forestry commission has ruined the map by chopping and planting a lot of trees. Walking along the old railway path we almost reached the top of the path but still no boulders so we walked back along the top of the tree line hoping to find something. We found a boulder that was in the guide it was a little rubbish but it was something. Embarking up an easy arete I felt the wind increase with height buffeted I pulled over the top it was grim. We headed into the woods to find some shelter. We found some boulders these were also in the guide both were wet. Eventually after 2 hours of walking we found a dry wind free problem did it and moved on to the next boulder this was even better. Tramping up the hill through the thorn bushes its the perfect height and has a perfect view. Easy enough climbing lead to one move that required unusual threading of the legs. It was stunning a real sequence that falls at your feet as soon as you unlock it. That day we did 4 problems 1 terrible 2 okay and 1 stunning.  We had walked 6 miles through trees thorns and bracken. But that is Moors climbing and I'm sure I'll be missing it soon.

Slightly Damp Stanage

I'm back in the Peak and I utilised one of the dry days to head back up to Stanage and reacquaint myself with the boulders there. It was an okay day but I was surprisingly unmotivated and failed to climb anything worth mentioning. Its hard when you are at the mercy of the weather if you are not feeling strong and psyched on the only dry days you feel like you've wasted a weeks worth of climbing. On one of the few sunny days I decided to go scrambling up Winnats Pass this alpine like stretch of road feels out of place in the peak with towering piles of limestone choss flanking both sides of the road. A couple of the crumbling pillars form brilliant easy ridges and can be done as a horseshoe to fully utilise the time out. Almost running up the first ridge I was bathed in sun and embraced the warmth and released myself from the constraints of the fleece that's almost become a permanent fixture over winter. Scrambling down the easier ridge and utilising a special bum shuffling method for moving down wet grass I was asked by a passer by if I was stuck, I thought it was nice of them to think about me but I was fine even if I looked like a helpless tourist. Back on the ground I was swimming in endorphins and running down the pass. Easy climbing in the sun before work it was perfect. My best day so far was when I finally got to Mother Cap and got round to doing Conan The Librarian which has to be one of the best names on grit. Another boulder of perfect height and simple yet surprisingly tricky moves its proper old school like a crimp ladder. But the sun was shining the snow was intermittent and the psyche was high. Conditions were good but far from perfect as the air was laced with moisture. That slight dip in friction which definitely showed up as we flung ourselves onto the slopey horror show that is Pet Cemetery. Swinging through jugs to the dirty mantle top out, hopeless throwing a hand onto nothing and hoping it sticks. It never did so its one to come back for.

Winnats Pass

As its February its almost time for lent for most people it comes around the time when you have already failed to keep up a new years resolution, so its another arbitrary time to set an irrelevant goal. To set a goal is natural to fail to achieve it is all the more common. They say you need a specific goal in order to achieve it. But I'm not ready for specifics. I'm ready to explore some new areas and try really hard. I'm sure I'll meet some new people climb some new routes and visit some new places. But I'm more than sure I'll end up waiting for the rain to stop.

What a Year

I had my most successful day bouldering the other day, I don't know whether it was the conditions or I have improved but somehow I managed to busk my way up two 7a's. This got me thinking about my year in climbing and how many good days out I have had.

I only really started bouldering outside earlier this year, before that I spent most time trad climbing even up until the start of the summer trad climbing was my main thing. It was only really when I moved back to the Moors I started indulging in outdoor bouldering and this became my main focus. I had many good times trad climbing at the start of the year doing my boldest and hardest trad routes to date. Then I moved back from university to the Moors, having no partner at the start of the summer I just went out bouldering by myself. Then I met Rob and we continued to visit crags where routes were either too short or too hard to trad climb so we just ended up bouldering. Then winter came and it got really cold so we started heading to the grit for some super sticky bouldering. I have dabbled in trad climbing since I left university but its mainly been easy routes. As the winter went on I got really psyched for climbing hard and without the faff of trad climbing. I do feel like it has paid off and I look forward trying to transfer the bouldering strength into trad climbing over the next year.

Frozen Ground Photo by Me

With my new found love for bouldering Font 7a became my new goal. With this in mind I spent a lot of time traipsing up to the Wainstones to try The Prow as I was hoping this would be my first 7a. Then on one of the freezing Brimham days Rob climbed Whiskey Galore, I had given up at this point I was cold and couldn't get the sequence down. Ready to leave but motivated by Rob's ascent I put my shoes on and tried again. After a few goes the sequence was starting to work, but I was still struggling to get my left foot placement solid as it was blind and I couldn't feel my toes. On what must have been my 20th go the foot held, I matched the sloper moved my right hand to the thumb sprag, then I got my left leg high and started to rock up it was in the bag. Then I slipped. I caught my self on the sloper and thumb sprag but couldn't recover dropping it massively frustrated I took a rest. Thinking of giving up as my feet were numb Rob was really helpful and super keen for me to do it. Motivated I shoed up chalked up and went for another go. The moves flowed and before I knew it I had one hand on the top trying to keep cool I mantled over the top it was done. I had done 7a.

Making the moves on Whiskey Galore Photo by Robs Shoe

I was expecting that to be a fluke and it would be another year before I managed another 7a. But I had been trying Pair in a Cubicle also at Brimham. It is the essence of gritstone in one problem, one good hold and every move is harder and slopier than the last, until you get to the blank heartbreaking top out. I think I have had about 4 sessions on it including one demoralising and skin destroying session with Freddie where I got so close but ultimately ended up just ruining my hands. A couple of days after Christmas the conditions were looking amazing and me and Rob and both got new pads so once again we headed to Brimham to test them out. We spent a couple of hours failing to highball and made tracks towards Pair in a Cubicle. We got there and a couple of guys were already trying it after watching Rob fail to do the sit start to Murky Rib I decided to jump on Pair in a Cubicle. I got some helpful new beta from the guys trying it, it was only a change of hand position but it worked. I had a couple of failed goes then watched Rob and the guys trying it, feeling psyched but rested I jumped on. By now I had the start nailed the the moves after just flowed and I had both my hands on the top, slapping wildly but still kind of falling my hands moved slowly to the back. then I was in balance. I had groveled enough it was done, I don't know what I did different but I topped out in slight disbelief and relief that I didn't have to do it again anytime soon.

One of the failed attempts Photo by Rob

Rob kept trying getting guttingly close so many times, I had some lunch and chatted with a climbing legend for a bit. I kept spotting trying to return the favour to Rob for what he did for me on Whiskey. But after a few hours I wanted to give something else a go and having seen a few people do Murky Rib sit start I thought I'd give it a shot. Its a soft 7a being only one move but its really knacky and slightly painful. Surprisingly I was making progress and found myself on the moves you start from standing on, thinking I had it in the bag I got a hand on the top. Then the scrittle fought back and my left hand detached. Go after go the scrittle kept scuppering my ascent my skin was fading but not as badly as Robs, who was suffering with the same issue I had on Pair in a Cubicle when I was trying it with Freddie. The light was fading we had been in the same spot for 3 hours I decided to give Murky Rib SS one last go. Grimacing through the heinous first pull and doing the same sequence through the regular route I got my left hand on the top scrittle then matched, trying to sort my footwork out I swung. Clinging to the scrittle I was smearing with all the grace of a dying fly, until I eventually grabbed the jug at the back I pulled myself up. Jumping back down I was elated I had somehow blagged 2 7a's. What a day. What a year.

Rob in some skin related pain Photo by Me

I have had so many good days its hard to select my favourites but yesterday is definitely one, although I was a little gutted Rob didn't manage Pair in a Cubicle I met a legend and climbed 2 7a's, one of my best days on grit by far. I know climbing isn't about numbers so I shouldn't care but climbing is about the journey from impossible to possible and all 3 7a's have done that for me. They are also really cool problems. I enjoyed the times tradding at the start of the year doing some really cool routes but I never really physically pushed myself so each achievement was a mental one. But now I have managed a 3 7as, an achievement I didn't believe would happen last year, an achievement I didn't think I'd have the strength or skill for. So psyched to keep it going next year, I feel thankful for having good people to climb with, having an abundance of amazing things to climb in the UK and having the ability and time to go climb. Whether its wandering on the moors. loosing skin on the grit or getting scared on a multipich in Wales or the Lakes. I am stoked for another year of climbing.

Rescued

I have always thought of myself as quite a bold climber, I've never really minded runouts and occasionally enjoy soloing. But the other day I reached my limit. On a VS.

A few of the folk from the Uni club had organised a weekend winter walking trip to the Lakes. I was stoked to join and helped manipulate them into fully utilising the weather and location for some multi-pitch climbing. The hut was in Borrowdale, home to some of the most accessible rock in the Lakes. I had to work on the Saturday so drove over on the evening to join them. They had spent the day on Sharp Edge on Blencathra in classic Lakes conditions. It was great to see everyone and spent the evening catching up and organising the next days climbing. As it rained through the night I recommended Shepards Crag as I heard it was quick drying and knew it was roadside. So on the Sunday morning a few groups headed over to do Troutdale Pinnacle and Myself, Freddie, Cindy, Edwin and Andy headed to Shepards. Freddie, Cindy and Andy made tracks for Little Chamonix whilst me and Edwin went for a scramble up Jackdaw ridge. Upon return to the ground we headed to North Buttress to look for dryish rock unfortunately it was a little damp so we headed to Brown slabs. Arriving at the slabs the base was dryish so we set off scrambling up Brown Slabs Direct, a classically polished diff that became wetter the higher up we got adding for a spicy scramble indeed.

Majestic Borrowdale Photo by Me

We decided to leave the climbing for a bit hoping the rock might dry out. After lunch and another run up Jackdaw Ridge to take photos of the group on Little Cham we decided to give Eve a shot. Its VS (5.7ish in American) which according to the guidebook was quite serious. But knowing we can climb a couple grades above we felt confident and the first pitch was dry. Edwin flew up it placing no gear and quickly established the belay, joining him I set off on the second pitch.

I ambled up the groove taking time to place gear due to the rumours of a lack of it on the slab. After placing a solid nut I embarked on the moves onto the slab a really cool little sequence . Once round the arete and on the slab I noticed the holds had the same muddy greasy texture I had found on Brown Slabs. Placing a very dodgy cam I looked to the point at which the belay was supposedly located and set that as my target. Moving across the slab something felt wrong maybe I was too low or maybe the wet rock was knocking my confidence. Sequence after sequence of utterly harrowing greasy desperate moves got me ever closer to the arete with the gear getting further and further away. Standing on a good foothold beneath an overlap I cautiously stood up, I was now in soloing territory. I couldn't fall. Feeling around for a crack or a pocket for gear I was utterly demoralised when the search became fruitless. The rock felt a little drier above the overlap but the moves looked awkward and my shoes were soaked from the slab. I headed towards the arete still beneath the overlap searching in vain for some gear. I reached the precipice looking down into this gully and with no gear within 10 metres and no good gear since the groove I stood there. Balancing one foot on the arete and with the other on a flat but wet hold. I broke down. I was done. I couldn't climb on. I couldn't fall. I was stranded.

After the mental torture of the slab I couldn't face anymore wet runout climbing. I just stood there on the arete contemplating my choices. One idea was to use the rope drag to lower myself down into the gully hoping the rope doesn't flick round and swing me to the ground. I looked up at the belay it couldn't have been more than 3 metres of climbing to the end of the pitch but I just couldn't take it. I have done bolder climbs, I have done wetter climbs and I have done harder climbs. But this is the only time I have ever got myself into such a situation of helplessness. It was not hard climbing just wet, greasy and insecure. Standing on the arete my mind was racing, one minute I was thinking this is safe this is chill the other oh shit I'm going to die. I tried placing some gear in my vicinity nothing was good or inspiring. So I stood there on my island of balance, fear and insecurity.

Freddie Cindy and Erskine on Little Cham Photo By Me

Whilst I was having my mini epic Freddie was dispatching Adam the neighbouring well protected HVS. He had been watching me sketching my way through the wetness and by the time I was on the arete he was nearing the top. He offered to through me one of the ropes once he'd set up and anchor I quickly accepted. I don't know how long I stood there it could've been minutes it could've been hours it was tenuous just standing. Freddie pulled up one of his twin ropes attached a krab and started swinging it towards me. Try after try and it still wasn't within arms reach my position was so precarious I couldn't do anything to help. The pendulum of safety was swinging above my head, like a clock ticking, teasing me I couldn't reach maybe I wouldn't reach and my time was up. It swung left then right scraping the rock then it landed just above my head. I grabbed it. Clipped in. I was safe.

It was over. After a brief attempt at climbing the rest on top rope I asked Freddie to lower me down I was mentally exhausted. Standing on the ground my head was stirring I was feeling embarrassed that I had to be rescued on a VS, annoyed that I couldn't make it to the belay, relieved to be on the ground and thankful to everyone for helping me.

Like a crap version of the Avengers. The rescue team


Looking back on it a day later I am still unsure of what went on. I don't know whether its my recent lack of trad climbing, the wetness of the rock or I went off route. It may have been a combination of them all. It was a good life experience and I'm glad I made a good decision and didn't die. I'm still annoyed that I failed on a VS but it was a good reminder climbing is a dangerous activity and even easy routes can be sketchy.  I am thankful I had friends to rescue and help and I will return to try the route again on a drier day. It was a very successful day of not dying and we all returned laden with more life experience. Isn't that what climbing is about?

Brimham VS Challenge

Everyone loves a challenge, whether it's a crossword at the back of a newspaper, seeing how much you can eat at an all you can eat buffet or doing a bunch of climbs in a day. As humans we are naturally inclined to seek out challenge as it stimulates and motivates us. So when Rob suggested we try and do the YMC Grit Guides 10 Must Do Brimham VS's in a day it caught my interest, but thought we could do more so I chose a couple of extra classics to increase the interest of the day. After a Sunday session of intense bouldering I was hankering for a day tradding, so on the 8th November we got in the car and made tracks for Brimham.

The Ticklist.

It was one of those prime gritstone days the sun was glorious but the temperatures were low, a perfect day for hard gritstone climbing. But not so great for doing a bunch of mid grade trad climbs, but we were committed to the idea. Leaving the car park we made tracks for Maloja, retrospectively the most pleasant climb of the day. Robs lead, smoothly and efficiently he motored up before encountering the recurring crux of the day finding an anchor. Eventually it was time to second and although the air was crisp the rock was warm and inviting, the route itself is stunning really leisurely climbing up some great features. At the top we were excited to have started the adventure but also baffled by the descent options, classic Brimham. Through some mild chimneying we returned to the ground and made haste to Jabberwok Variation. Castle Rock is one of the most impressive lumps of gritstone at Brimham and in the middle there is an eye catching slanting crack this is the line of Jabberwok Variation. The crack itself is straightforward if a little pumpy you then get a rest before the horrifying final chimney. Well its only horrifying if you enter the wrong way round and don't have suitably large gear. Once some poor gear was placed in the remnants of a birds nest I began squirming upwards with the ever present feeling of falling out. Reborn on the top I scoured far and wide for the anchor, finally bringing Rob up we were bathed in sunshine and psyched for what felt like a warm summers day climbing.

Jabberwok Variation Video by Robs Shoe

After a brief stint getting lost we found Allan's Crack and our dreams of a sunny day climbing were shattered it was shady and freezing. Rob made light work or Fag Slab Variant helpfully plugging the handholds with gear. Its a short route and was perhaps our quickest of the day, but next was Allan's Crack a route that has a hard reputation but is actually quite easy. I think the name is misleading as its more of a slab climb. Utilising the undercuts for jugs and some good feet its got a brilliant sequence. I felt strong and then I got to the scrittly finish. With no good gear available and as I was using Robs rack I asked if his cams worked passively he responded with a yes, brilliant that'll do. It's a stunning line and is one of the top VS's I have done. Then it was Robs turn, I couldn't see the start from the belay and as he started climbing I was reading the rope and taking in when necessary then I felt tug, Rob had slipped at the start off the polished holds. Chuckling to myself I lowered him the the 3ft to the floor and he quickly joined me at the top. Rapidly packing we made a beeline for Birch Tree, Right wall and hopefully some sunshine.

Arriving at the base of Birch Tree Wall we were greeted with a rare Brimham sight, there was no one around usually there is at least one person walking or bouldering. Hungry I ate whilst Rob racked up the next two leads were his. A little shaky in places and treating himself to a horrendous amount of rope drag he topped out Birch Tree Wall. Having soloed it before it was nice to do it with a rope even though I climbed it better without. Right Wall looks uninviting from the bottom, green walls with the polished line standing out like a gem no one wants. Rob started up the route extending gear this time, when he got the crux crack he looked nervous and spent a while placing gear. I was wary he looked like he might drop it. But once the gear was sorted he fought valiantly upwards to the final crux straddling leftwards to the top. It was great to watch I was psyched for my turn, as I got to the cruxy finger crack I somehow managed to layback and yarded up. The crux turned out to be the top out where I almost left my arm behind as the jam was too good. Rob was psyched these were his hardest leads done, I was psyched but mine were still to come. Whilst I was belaying a local boulderer started chatting too me, we divulged our plan for the day at the mention of the routes he laughed that we had chosen to add Notice Board Crack and wished us luck. I needed it Central Crack was next and it was my lead.

Whilst I racked up Rob ate, he had done Central Crack before and knew what lay in store. The start is simple and the middle is a divine hand crack but the top is desperate, classic Brimham. You get a good rest and cam placement before the slopey wide top out. Unfortunately the best cam placement was exactly where my leg needed to be so I lowered it. Making for a bigger fall but gave me a chance to make upward progress. Pulling on slopers and jamming my knee I reached for a fist jam it stuck and that was it I was committed. 5 minutes of groveling commence and I pulled myself over. What a VS. Rob knowing the tricks of it made light work and didn't even fully offwidth. Right Hand Crack was Robs choice for his penultimate lead, its quite strenuous but with steady jams. As he tentatively made progress I could see his psyche was waning, I knew once he had done this it'd be plain sailing for him. He surmounted the final awkward move then it was my turn.  As I started seconding I could feel the wear of the day on my arms. Not a lot of climbs but all awkward and slightly strenuous. When we were back down we discussed the doubts we had about completing the day. We had started at 10.30am it was now 3pm and we still had 4 routes to do, all challenging in their own right and with 90 minutes of daylight left it was going to be tough. But being optimists Rob quickly sent Parallel Cracks, his last lead of the day and in some style. The last move is the trickiest and he crushed it I think his best lead of the day he made it look simple. Copying his moves I blasted up it. Then I knew it was all on me. I knew Rob could do the climbs, he had done most of them before and seconding would be no problem. But I haven't lead much recently and to do them quickly would require some real efficiency. I think I was over thinking, it was no big deal the routes would be easy. How hard can a Brimham VS be?

Lancet Crack was next. Hidden at the back corner of a gully this overhanging finger crack somehow gets VS. Excited and with a little gear beta from Rob I set off. Bloody hell its overhanging, quick get some cams in, grab the next hold ahh its a jug hang around get some gear and go for the crux. My hand reaches for the thin hanging crack its polished I keep bumping it up, fingers slipping I should've jammed I think I'm going to drop it then I latch the jug. Its over, placing a little more gear and fighting some scrittle I top it out. So you think you can climb VS? After Rob joined me we made the crux descent and we noticed the light was fading, running over to Notice Board I was psyched. Squirming up the initial crack I was enjoying myself this felt easy, pouring myself onto the ledge below the final crack I was ready the cam should fit, it'll be easy. The cam did fit at the bottom and the crack was green. Throwing my hat and jacket to the top and clipping the gear to the cam I swim up. Its traditional but a cake walk compared to whats been. Rob soon joined me he was psyched it was almost over, we had almost done it. But.

Rough Wall was the finale. It was dark. Its 4.30pm. Bloody winter, Headtorch on I start up. The first moves feel tricky there's not much for the feet then I feel the slip and fall. Luckily I was about 1ft off the ground but doubt started to creep in, maybe we had bitten off more than we can chew. Staying cheery I go again, its cold placing gear freezes my fingers, the climb is well chalked and pretty steady. I traverse the breaks to the final crack, the crux. I place some gear and adjust my headtorch by now the feeling in my hand is totally gone. I layback and slap the frozen lump of hand to the top hoping for something good knowing there is 50/50 chance I'll fall. It sticks, its over, we have done it. Just get Rob up and we are done, he makes light work and cruises to the top. Its done 6 hours and 38 minutes car to car not to bad. But it's not really about time or grade, it was a great day in great weather doing some absolutely classic routes. I'd recommend it to anyone who thinks they can climb VS.

Our stats and times of the day

Here is the UKC ticklist for those interested. https://www.ukclimbing.com/logbook/set.php?id=2276

Oh To Be Out

Its Friday, I'm on the train to Manchester happy about my destination, less so about the journey. As the train pierces through the countryside I see the Moors out my window, the dying bracken enclosed by the rich blue autumn sky and the rich green pastures that cover the ground. I know in a few hours I'll be passing through the Pennines. Oh to be on the grit or sandstone on a day like today with skin hardened from the cold and spirits lifted by the sun.


The recent memory of last nights climbing at Clemitts offers brief respite from the drudgery of the train. A glorious evening with the dying light laced with the smoke of the heather that burns so violently on the horizon. But I look back down and I'm on the train, I hear the drunken voices of teenagers heading to York for the sole purpose of drinking. What a use of day like this. Still I'm on a train throwing away one of the few perfect days you have in a British autumn.


But the goal is justified I'm heading to Manchester to drive to Wales with my University Mountaineering Club, a good reason I'm sure but it still feels like a wasted day. I wish I was out. I suppose this is what it'd like to have a job. Sitting all day, just sitting slowly aging. Whilst the golden opportunity slips away and the dream of climbing on a crisp sunny day becomes that a dream, a wistful myth of the days that could have been. Oh to feel the bite of the grit or sandstone. Oh to be bouldering, tradding or walking. Oh to be out

Moor in Depth

Seen as my little blog on the moors was my most popular, I decided to follow it up with one a little more in depth and brimming with anecdotes. Enjoy what may end up reading like a selection of short stories.

Scugdale- Crisp sandstone, fleeting glimpses of golden light and the ever changing temperature of midsummer England. This is a roadside crag, well kind of. Its 10 minutes from the village of Swainby up a single track road that definitely warrants a hefty e grade. Then a pleasant 10 minute hike up the hill to the most popular end of the crag, a virtually continuous band of high moor sandstone called Scots crag. Because of the height almost all routes are amenable to solo above pads which is what we went for. A warm up was in order and as Rob read the guidebook I took a scramble up a little VS( I say little the tallest this crag gets is 10 metres), which been the moors was pretty stiff for for VS slightly overhanging and with some scrittly slopers it was the perfect warm up. Eve right hand is a one of the most aesthetic lines I've seen, an arete that would be the most classic of classics were it in the Peak. Sublime laybacking and then a slightly awkward highstep that coupled with the unpleasant landing really makes you question your life choices, but I'm young dumb and full of uhh fun? So I pressed on stood up latched the jug and went along on my merry business. Warmed by the intermittent sun and brimming with stoke we managed to polish off almost 30 routes all perfect portraits in sandstone. After a couple of hours I was feeling strong and like I could onsight Indian Face so I set off up Bonzo a mild HVS that was a supposed one move wonder. Which it was but it just wasn't the move I was expecting, so when I pulled through what I thought was the hard move I found myself stranded half way up the wall. With my only options for escape being either upwards or doing a reverse high step mantle. Obviously I chose to stand there for about a week chalking up, feeling holds, getting a tan, having fun and hoping the move wouldn't seem so daunting. Eventually I set off on what turned out to be a slightly smeary slightly crimpy ladder to the top. Elated I told Rob how great it was. I don't think he believed me and declined to follow suit. After what seemed like an age but also a second it was time to go, fingers tender from the warm love of the sandstone and minds racing with the distance covered we left. Many things to return to and many things to repeat.

Highcliffe Nab- The greenest, dirtiest and hardest crag within view of a Lidl. Its the classic hard crag of the area for the generations preceding me most of the hardest routes are there. But I didn't go for them on my first visit I was there to do some bouldering and easy soloing. Which was lovely apart from the block I was bouldering on was littered with broken glass thanks to the generosity of some local neds. The soloing was pleasant and I did the classic Severe of Highcliffe crack which is just pure pleasantness. But the line that drew my eye was a HVS/E1 offwidth called Scarecrow Crack done in the 50's it has the ever endearing appeal of a classic struggle. So returning with my dad to belay, my big cam and an insufficient warm up I set off. Pulling on I really should've taken note of how gritty, sandy and slightly damp the rock felt but psyche is an overruling power. So after some overly dynamic moves and a gear placement I reached the base of the offwidthy bit. Already pumped I switched from the comfort of the chicken wing(climbing technqiue makes your arm look like a chicken wing) to a layback because my best gear placement was where the best chicken wing was. With the ever growing pump rendering my arms almost useless I udged upwards inch by inch legs scrabbling their way to follow the chicken wing that had pulled me that far. Then the crack ran out and although I could reach the ledge it was a) sandy b)green c) wet and I was a) pumped b) stuck and c)f**cked. I tried my hardest to adjust my hand to take the strain and allow a possible mantel onto the ledge, with my hand finally in an acceptable place I faced the next issue, my right leg was stuck in the crack. So trying to do it in one swift motion I tried to rotate into a layback freeing my leg and allowing me a better position to mantel. It didn't work. I threw my leg out with too much force and I could feel myself losing contact. Flying headfirst towards the slab my first thought was my helmets in my rucksack and I hope that cams high enough to stop me decking. Luckily it was, unluckily in the fight to stop the fall I'd locked the chicken wing so tight I still have a scar on my arm 3 months later. Annoyed at myself for falling so close to a rest I went and set up an abseil to retrieve the gear. As I lowered down the grassy slope I could only think one thing. Thank god I fell off. The top was dripping also it was vertical grass and the top crack was to wide for any of my cams. So although the fall was unpleasant at least I didn't have to solo up another offwidth and then climb the wet grass equivalent of the Meltdown. A great day was had by all it had everything bad climbing, pump and a fall. Its one to remember I didn't land on Dad, aren't cams amazing and offwidths are rad.

Park Nab- The best crag in the UK. Well its not but it is pretty cool, a personal favourite because its where I started climbing and it gives a good basis for comparison as the rock doesn't change(editors note- yes it does half this crag fell down in 1994). I've soloed most of the routes that I used to top rope so that's good progress. Well almost there is one I thought impossible I couldn't even top rope it, its called Pinnacle Face. It's an eliminaty kind of thing in the fact you could fridge hug it all the way up, but ethically that's not the correct way to do it, but you can use a bit of the right arete here and there. Anyway I did mange to top rope it a few times last summer but I still haven't got round to either soloing it or leading it. I think the start move is a British 5c slab move then it gets way easier but its slightly overhanging and often green at the top. I have set off leading it but I'd spent to long getting pumped on a self imposed boulder eliminate that whilst amazing was pretty pointless and I had to bail on Pinnacle face. Another project of mine is a great bouldery roof that I tried top roping last year called Dangle I think it gets e2 6a and I could not for the life of me figure out how to pull through the roof. This year I flashed it I suppose that's either progress or luck. But it is a place I go not for the route, grade, line or send its usually to spend time with my Dad as he enjoys the top roping there and I think what he gets is nostalgia and its the same for me, the rose tinted goggles at the routes he used to solo and the enjoyment he gets just from top roping them. I think that's why I have shifted my view of the place to stop going there for a specific challenge just go enjoy the experience and be.

Kay Nest- I think this is one of the most remote crags in the Moors. You park at Chop Gate village hall walk through some fields some containing bulls and some contain dead sheep. Then you head over the hill and down into Tripsdale. Its an idyllic Moors valley crowned with heather, an aterial stream running through it and the crag shrouded by trees with boulders littering the ground below it. We didn't bother heading to the crag although there look to be some good lines we were there for the bouldering as it looked stellar. Myself and Rob were thoroughly psyched by having this massive playground of boulders all to ourselves. Warming up on this slab the rock was achingly beautiful the most fine grained sandstone I have seen only shrouded in a little scrittle it was a brilliant warm up. Our sights were firmly set on the ship stone a great 5 meter high block with perfect face climbing and as it turns out the worlds hardest font 5 boulder problem. From a marginal matched crimp utilising the sloper for your feet you lunge upwards to a less than perfect hold. This 5 felt harder than a 6c I did later in the day, it took me so long to get it I was pumped out my mind trying to do the final moves. But somehow managing to claw back any remnants of strength I managed to flop over the top, amazing boulder though. After we had pretty much completed the east face of the ship we headed deep into the woods in search of boulders. We got lost, utilising my never ending psyche as a navigational tool meant we went too deep into the woods. We did see a 8b boulder problem and an unclimbed arete that looks like the sweetest line in the moors. After running down hill through bracken, getting attacked by trees and eventually me running straight into a waist high bog we found the boulders we were after. There was brilliant slabby arete that required a committing pop for the top, lying next to the reason I had bushwacked so hard a 6c boulder that utilised my two favourite types of climbing monos and aretes. I expected a serious battle but I got it 2nd go which was great, if not slightly disappointing for you the reader and me the climber. I wanted a fight, I wanted to dislocate my middle finger trying to hard but oh well I suppose you do have to win some. Walking back unsure of the time that had past and slowly edging towards the civilised world, I felt like we were leaving somewhere special. Somewhere you can return in 20 years and it won't have changed, sure the lines may get harder but the magic won't leave.

Wainstones- Its the crag most people know and it is the classic moors crag steeped in history with problems and lines from John Redhead to Steve McClure, containing some classic features such as the Sphinx, Steeple and Needle. Its even good enough for the outdoor centres to come and let kids top rope classics in muddy boots( but that's a different gripe). I have been there for easy soloing and some picnics as a kid but I'd never been to boulder. Redheads roof immediately caught my eye like it says on the tin its a roof and to get over it you need to mantle using a decent foothold but a very indecent crimp, I couldn't get it (also if you haven't seen it watch clown assending a great if mental film about John Redhead). We still managed to tick the classic slabs and overhangs there is such a variety its hard to get bored there, because if you're bored of the bouldering there is some amazing trad routes to try. Anyway under the guise of going to look at the holds we wandered down to The Prow a stunning 7a boulder problem that looked nails, however upon closer inspection I noticed the holds were massive and I could actually do a move or two it just became crossed the line from impossible to possible. Upon my next visit I headed towards the crag facing the Wainstones, it is called Cold Moor. Where there as an abundance of great quiet lines, I did the most sublime HS called Beak Ridge great movement in a sublime position. But that was just a warm up for the 7a, where once the cow pat directly under the starting hold had been dealt with I managed to make the amazing progress of one extra move. Baby steps. Its really not my forte big powerful moves in roofs but it looks so good and feels just the right side of possible that I am willing to spend even more time projecting it. Which for someone as impatient as me is a big statement. There isn't much to say about this place that hasn't been said its classic, its varied and its popular(well for the Moors).

Tranmire- The latest of the crags I have visited my initial thoughts were the main crag is wet glad I came for the boulders. But the wall that immediately caught mine and Robs eye was the short buttress next to the wall at the north end of the main crag. A enigmatic blank wall flanked by a couple of cracks and laced with a break and a flake. I couldn't work out the direct start so I approached it from the crack on the right a little HVS called Thug leaning across from a good jug I engaged the flake, crimp crimp swing the foot out then latch the jug. Great only the top bit to do, ohh the holds have ran out quick bail, jump down to the pads hope they don't slide down the hill again, safe on the pad I begin to relax then it slides down the hill. This stunning crag and boulder field has the most classic of all Moors problems. The guidebook says pull jump or dyno to the lip then beach whale to finish. If that doesn't make you want to climb it I don't what would. An elegant hanging wedge is gained by a reach for me then once purchase was gained, I flopped onto the slab and with moves reminiscent of a 90's breakdancer I wiggled your way up hill (if you would like to see the footage get in contact its short but sweet). A brilliant crag with some definite gems and some projects to return for. What other reason do you want to go than worming your way up hill. Poetic prose cannot define or describe the technique needed but a fun day was had so we have succeeded.

Well I hope you enjoyed that. If you have any questions or would like some more info on the Moors( or just want to see the video of that problem at tranmire) get in touch at joe.foster59@yahoo.co.uk.