Starting Again

It seems like a long time since I've been out bouldering. In fact, I know how long it is. My bouldering mat was still in it's shrink-wrapping from my last trip to Font in September last year. So much has happened since then....


Having had a busy couple of months I found myself on Friday looking at the weather maps for the weekend and wondering whether my intended trip north to Achnasheen was really worth it or not. When the levels of predicted precipitation run not just to blue but through yellow and well into the red zones on the map, one does wonder whether putting a giant umbrella over the house wouldn't be a good idea. A 5pm phone call at work on Friday made the decision for me. I wasn't going.


Motivating myself to go climbing without company is always hard. With Diff away working for most of the weekend and other buddies, sick, injured or out of the country, I needed some pretty good weather to coax me out. It was my lucky day! Bored with driving I opted for Berry Hill and found that lots of people had had the same idea. It's a lovely spot, south facing with a good view of the hills. Asking permission to climb is (according to the guidebook) imperative, but a knock at the door received no response. As an aside, what is the protocol in this case? Is the default position to climb without permission and deal with it if a problem arises, or is one supposed to not climb because one has not obtained permission? Anyway, I opted for the former.


I was the only one bouldering among several parties of traddies. A very nice chap with lots of tattoos and gold teeth came over to chat and offered that I could climb with them if I wanted. I hope I didn't offend him by declining his offer. I was quite keen to just potter on some boulders and get moving again rather than worry about gear and ropes and being too high up!




There's nothing particularly difficult at Berryhill (although some things were a bit tricky!) but it was a good day for cruising through 16 problems, reminding my skin that it needs to grow and reminding myself how to climb. Some warm sunshine and a strong wind made for a pink face, but I went home very content.

Sweaty September

I have foregone a holiday all summer on the basis that work has been very busy and the conditions in Font are better towards autumn. I was desperate for some time off, time away from the office and some long stints of fresh air.  I was also looking forward (with some trepidation, I must admit) to showing Tamsyn and Dina the joys of la foret domeniale de Fontainebleau and introducing them to real outdoor bouldering.

Tamsyn and Dina headed out on Saturday and I joined them on Monday, having had prior engagements on the Sunday. My journey was fine until I reached the French border, whereupon three plane-loads of passengers discovered that French Immigration Control were apparently "working to rule".  It took me just under 2 hours to have my passport checked, during which time there was a vague threat of a stampede, with Gallic tempers demonstrating their frayed edges very clearly. Just a little intimidating.....

Having hung on for better conditions but also been just desperate for a holiday, I had a twinge of mixed feelings on arrival in 30 degree heat. Lovely as it was, I knew it wouldn't be great for climbing anything hard!

With only really 4 days climbing to be had, we started at Isatis.  Being a little over excited about the whole Font experience (the last time I was here it snowed!) I just climbed anything and everything I laid eyes on that looked vaguely do-able.  I was a little freaked by the highball things, and even by the height of some things that are not considered highball, but then all the bouldering I've done elsewhere this summer has been pretty low. I figured I'd get used to it pretty quickly.

Isatis was warm. Oh how warm. Blissful in some senses, but frustrating and lethargy-inducing in others. While I revelled in being able to wander around without wearing a million layers, I quickly realised that the heat was going to put paid to any really hard problems. It's taken me a while to realise that the proverbial "bad conditions" does mean something.  Even at my level, the warmth and humidity means my skin doesn't last long, my fingers slide off things, my feet slide around inside my shoes and sweating with effort becomes gradually more unpleasant!

Dina and Tamsyn were new to the outdoor bouldering experience so I was glad the weather was good. I remembered that when I first started bouldering I didn't give two hoots about the whole "good conditions" thing. It didn't make any difference to my climbing, except that I hated being cold; it made me miserable and I couldn't climb anything for frozen fingers. Ah yes, pre-duvet days!

The warmth was good in some ways, and not in others. Dina wore through her fingers pretty quickly, and I think she was a bit shocked that these things do happen:

I think I just wasn't trying hard enough to wear through my skin as badly as this.  Without wishing to share too much, I wasn't particularly well for the last 4 days of our trip. Praise be for NHS24 and ERI's outpatient department who kindly issued me with some antibiotics at midnight on the Saturday I got home.

In spite of the heat, we mustered enough energy for a bit of dyno practice. From a sit start on this little arete, there was nothing else but a big jump for the top edge. Above is Dina, mid-fling. The hardest bit was sticking the top edge, especially with sweaty mits!

We spent one day at Diplodocus on the yellow circuit. Caroline and I did this 2 years ago, and I think it was the only circuit we completed properly: 39 easy problems and we were still knackered. This time was different, since my buddies had never done such things as circuits. It was good fun showing them the wee tricks I'd learned previously, and watching them work stuff out for themselves too. It was cooler at Diplodocus, and even started to spit a little, but we carried on regardless.

Dina's face is a real picture on this problem (number 8 yellow at Diplodocus I think). The prospect of slipping off this means hitting the big ledge on the way down; clearly this was a difficult thing for Dina to forget!

We had another day at 91.1, which was very warm too. In spite of this I found the red 6b in Stone Country's new Fontainebleau guide relatively straightforward. I think it's known as The Pince.  First pop was desperate. Slippy, crimpy, reachy...didn't really seem possible, but with a bit of perseverence (something I was distinctly lacking this week) it went. Stone Country's book is beautiful, by the way. Definitely worth a tenner. Small, light, good pics, nice honest commentary!

Our last day was spent at Rocher Guichot. I'd not been there before and was pleasantly surprised to find it close to the carpark but not crazily polished. We stopped at the first big boulder (which was pretty big!!!) and walked around it several times. Dina definitely didn't like the height; Tamsyn was pretty sanguine about it, but not overcome with eagerness; I was busy inventing reasons to myself why I should only climb half way up!  So we tootled around on some of the lower boulders to start with.

I thought the lower problems would be easier. Ha ha. There were a couple of very sketchy slabs, tiny crimps, and one giant rockover from the ground - standing start, heel up high, rock over and push hard, turn the hand round an balance precariously against a slab! Magic :-)  With a great deal of egging on from Tamsyn, I was persuaded to try a very sketchy blunt arete. Highball? Really? Oh I never noticed! I'm still not quite sure how I got up it, but I did. Tenuous, balancy, sweaty? All of the above, a definite adrenaline rush. Tamsyn - send me the pics!! Did you find your camera lead yet??

If there are Font lovers out there who haven't been to Rocher Guichot, I would definitely say it's worth a look. Plenty to keep you busy at least!

We found lots of big beetles here too. I couldn't resist taking pictures of them. I think they're fantastic wee beasties:

Four days was great - we climbed every day, but it's still not enough for me. When the weather is dry, it's fantastic. I feel like I've had my fix to last me a wee while, but never for long enough. So when can we go again??

Sheep Sh* Shoes

Determined to get out last Saturday, somehow, someway and with someone, Penny and I left Edinburgh at 13.00 hours and scooted south to Hepburn. Penny had never been before, so I felt like the relative expert (ha ha). In short, I knew where the boulders were, how to get there and that the grades can be a bit random.

Predictably, there was nobody else climbing there. The bracken had shot up since I was last at Hepburn in June. The midges were out, but bearable, and most importantly the rock was dry in spite of a week of monsoon conditions. Yet again I forgot to take my big brush for cleaning things that haven't been cleaned in a while, but since we ended up doing the rounds of several problems I've done before, I don't suppose it mattered very much.

My disappointment in writing this is that the problems at Hepburn don't seem to have any cool names. Or am I missing something? I thought half the fun of climbing and bouldering was that what you did had a name. I can't wait for the day when I can say "yeah, I did Monty Pythons last week" (well, I can dream....!) but saying "yeah I did that roof problem on the roof boulder at Hepburn on Saturday" doesn't quite have the same ring to it. OK, so the right hand roof problem on the roof boulder isn't 7a+, but even so, you get my drift.

Penny on the "warm up" (!) 6b slab

Anyway, I was pretty chuffed with the RH roof problem at 6b. Quite a contrast to the slabby 6b on the warm up wall that I have tried and failed on every previous visit. For some reason, today was the day. A few precarious wobbles up the slab, furiously gripping the slightly sweaty crimpy sidepull, and the next thing I knew my heavy posterior felt quite comfortably balanced over my left foot, while I managed to squeeze one and a half fingertips into the mono above my head. A short step through with my right and a very quick pop, and the top was in my hands! What a surprise!! It was probably a good thing that nobod but Penny and the sheep were there to hear my squeals of delight. I should probably have been locked up for breach of the peace.

The final pop on the 6b slab

So, further surprise to do the roof problem too. The two problems could not be more different. Penny worked out how to start the problem and found the magic little foothold tucked way under the edge of the roof. The problem for us was that slapping for the nose meant that both feet were coming off. One is then left hanging with the prospect of campusing the next 2 moves at least. Some girls are good at campusing. I'm not one of them. So then we found a heel hook. It wasn't very good, and looked pretty worn, so we tried to be careful not to scrape any more off it. It worked though, so we were able to keep at least one foot on while effectively at full stretch horizontally. Another big slap to bring the right hand in and the left hand to join it, left only the reach back to a good lip, a crazy high foot and a hefty rock over to top out. Magic. It took a bit of piecing together, but it was worth the effort for the satisfaction. I hadn't even bothered to try this one previously, thinking it was far too hard. Mind over matter has never seemed quite so pertinent.

Psyching up to slap for the nose... RH roof problem

Having lost a lot of skin from all that slapping, we cruised home. I got to work on Monday and realised that the funny smell was coming from the Hepburn sheep poo on my shoes. So these weren't my work shoes after all....

Slip Slap Slop

It seems like an age since Caroline and I hopped it down to Kyloe Out for some bouldering amidst all the busy-ness that was the end of June. Having got used to the fact that it would probably rain on us, we were a bit gobsmacked to find ourselves slapping and slipping around madly on greasy County sandstone. Were we nuts?? Touch of the sun maybe.

Having recently bought the new Northumberland bouldering guide, we realised there was a whole lot of bouldering to be had at Kyloe Out. Previously we'd always been to Kyloe In. Granted, In The Woods is better than Out but this year we seem to be using "try new stuff" rather than "try hard stuff" as our motto. Kyloe Out was a pleasant surprise. We picked the Quarry as our first (and as it transpired, only) stop. We had the place to ourselves, with only a wee yellow bird for company. He sang his little heart out delightfully from the very top of the crag, although we were too far away to be able to identify him with any certainty.

Caroline sitting next to the bird perch, having soloed her way there. I went up in bare feet which was both liberating and terrifying at the same time!

We spent a lot of time trying to remember how to mantle onto this slopey shelf. It isn't particularly high, and therefore one would think not particularly scary, but the angle of the slope one has to mantle onto is much more tricky than it looks. I don't suppose it helps that we're not well versed in the art of mantling, and given the heat maybe this wasn't the best day to try it!! Still we had a lot of fun - and nobody can say we don't challenge ourselves! I think we managed one mantle at the near end of this picture and one slightly further along. The problem seemed to be getting feet sufficiently high to be able to jump high enough to push one's centre of gravity over the lip. Neither of us are particularly tall, so it did seem that a little bit more height would have been advantageous balance-wise. A bit more gumption would have been good too!

After enough slapping around, we moved on to a 7a crimp-fest on the quarry wall. Again, not a good thing to try in the heat, but we gave it a good bash until the sun moved onto it. We managed about a half of it, failing every time to make the next move to cross a left foot through, and reaching for the next cubby hole in the very thin crack. The horizontal break was fine, but the diagonal crack (used for both hands and feet at various heights) proved pretty tiny even for our pixie fingers. More fingerboard training required. And maybe some cool dry autumn weather.

While Caroline is infinitely stronger than me, on this particular problem my balance appeared to give me one more move. No pics I'm afraid. It's a beautiful move though, one of those flowing movements that reminds me of the years of dancing, one that reminds me why I climb. Fantastic.

...until that inevitable gravity-laden moment of groundward motion!


Once the sun moved round it was about time to move on; no skin, hot sweaty and tired. We wandered along to the left to have a look at the other bits of crag, feeling inspired to come back again. In a moment of untold self-assurance, Caroline suddenly announced she was going to solo a route. Given the way she'd been eyeing up Birdlime Crack and asking questions about it, I wasn't surprised. She scooshed up it, no problem. So I went too.

High step on Birdlime Crack (MS)

For those who are interested in such things, we also saw some little bats squeaking away in a thin but deep crack above the left hand side of the roof on Overhanging Buttress. They sounded like baby birds, so we were looking for a nest, but eventually saw the wee things scrabbling around in the crack. I don't think it's part of a formal route or problem, but I guess it's worth noting that the crack seems to be a handy hiding place for them because it looks eminently climbable to me.

Time to change

I had no idea that changing the clocks could change the weather in quite the way it did this year. It was as though somene flicked a switch, quite literally.

Having decided that it was asking a bit much of myself to fit in two days climbing and all the other things I needed to do, we took a decision to climb one day and do other stuff the other day. Dithering, as usual, I opted for Saturday at home and Sunday out on the rock......until Guy phoned. Our lazy morning in bed was interrupted by the dingly ding of text messages and phone calls. Guy said he was going to Kyloe, so I said, could I go too, Guy said yes, then Diff said he might come too. Suddenly we had a little party going!

We scooshed down the A1 and got a bit of a shock getting out of the car. How cold?? Bracing? More than..... it was baltic. Hard to believe that it was nearly April and we had travelled south. What a day to choose trad.....

Climbing in duvets. I was very glad of my down sweater.

I am ashamed to say that the last time I attempted any trad was a couple of weeks ago at Bowden I fell off. First lead fall, and I'm so ashamed of it, I'm refusing to divulge the grade. This time, I think the only reason I didn't bail this time was Guy and Diff egging me on. First up was Tacitation, a classic of the crag. Diff talked me through the gear placements just by looking at the route from below (I have very little trad experience, unlike him). Despite being pretty gymnastic, the first move wasn't that hard. A little tricky for someone my height, maybe, but nothing to complain about. Guy put on some fantastic faces when he came up second. Chin out and, trying hard, he complained loudly - lots of hot air as far as I could see. He had no trouble at all.

Guy hopping up the first move of Tacitation VS 4c

We did have trouble staying warm, so next up was some soloing of Severes. We couldn't (or wouldn't or just didn't) make sense of the guidebook other than to establish we were on on of Eeny, Meeny, Miny or Mo. It was nice to trot up something very easy. It's very satisfying, and probably pretty good for your head. I opted to go up with the rope so I at least had a backup plan if I freaked. I didn't freak and, after chucking a couple of cams in, even went adventuring up an overhanging crack. I had no idea what grade it was, and no idea what I was letting myself in for, but went for it anyway. There was good gear and the holds were all decent. Even more satisfying! I think it was the top half of Christmas Tree Arete Direct. Who knows. Who cares. It was fun.


Finally deciding it was too cold for much more, Diff hopped up Gagarin's Groove. Guy picked out an MVS somewhere close to the holly tree, which looked pretty straightforward from the ground, but was green and slimy and off balance when we got on it. Nasty.

Eventually we gave it up for being too cold when it started to snow, and headed home via the Bluebell Hotel in Belford.

That night, the clocks changed...... and so did the weather.

Amidst car troubles, and a lot of rearranging, six of us paid a visit to the Dovehole boulders on the Sunday. It could not have been more different from Saturday. Balmy sunshine and a warm spring breeze made it warm enough to climb in t-shirts. It was blissful.

Dan, Sarah and I had a good crack at an undercut problem on the Monkey Face boulder. Dan and Sarah made short shrift of it, but it took me a little more effort than that. I put it down to my advanced years, although that's possibly the lamest excuse I could have ever come up with.


Dan then came rushing over saying he'd found a really good problem for us. Unfortunately, it was a little bit heightest, but with some growing, I managed it.


Roz, who has a significant height advanage on me, had a bit of an issue with this problem. Her chin had a close encounter of the scraping kind whilst getting to grips with the top out.......


So much so that she needed a lie-down afterwards.

Collectively I think we wore through a lot of skin, but we had a great day. Spring finally seemed to have arrived, a real turning point in the year. I can look forward to not worrying about being freezing cold the moment I spend more than an hour outside.

Team Sunshine at Dovehole

Mad March

It's hard to know where March has gone. The weather seems to have been all over the place, as have we, and there has been little time to sit still and take stock.

I've had another few trips around the country for various things (avoiding those dreadful train journeys, thank goodness), and have therefore encountered another hiatus in the training schedule (what training schedule?!).

My weekend started on Thursday. Hurrah! A good thing, surely. Well, not necessarily. It started with an impromptu post-work drink (or four), which blurred Friday quite considerably. Having scraped through the day, I managed a few routes at Alien 1 and finished (just about) in time to jet off to Tom's party. Everyone who's anyone in the world of normal strong climbers was there. This was the place to be and the place to be seen. Having escaped the party with only fizzy pop damage, I crashed into bed and had a night of weird and restless dreams. Serves me right for having pasta and goats cheese as my post-midnight dinner.


On little sleep, and an early start to make cake, we headed to Raven Crag, scooting past all the crowds at Bowden, slipping just over the hill to peace and tranquility and a better view of the Cheviots. Granted the climbing isn't quite world-class, being a bit on the sandy side, but it faces the sun, dries quickly in the breeze and best of all, nobody else seems to go there! Given our approach to Saturday, this was ideal.

The (pretend) hard core boulderer in me acknowledged that those elusive good conditions were definitely not going to appear today. Temperatures went beyond warm and well into the sweaty zone. Nice. The more realistic part of me realised I was just up for some time outside, soaking up some sunshine after what seems an interminably long winter. We did, of course, agree (tongues firmly in cheeks) that since we were only going to be messing about it would be bad form to do so on quality problems found elsewhere in the County. No sense in wearing out problems we hadn't a hope in hell of ticking today. Northumberland sandstone is soft, after all....ask Sam.

Caroline pulled the biggest flapper I've ever seen off her little finger on the very first move of the very first problem. She's too strong for her own good!! It was nasty. Blood welling up under the torn skin. Lots of chat about superglue ended with an elastoplast and several rounds of tape - a professional job.

Caroline's flapper - bad pic, but now she has her own blog I can't nick her good pictures any more ;-)

We started on the Meadow Wall, working along the problems right to left. Stuart was enjoing his first day out on real rock and with his long reach he managed a number of moves we birdies struggled with. Like this one, which was a definite dyno-for-small-pocket-off-non-existent-smears for us:

The move above the dyno....

It took a while for us to remember how to do each of the problems, but since we had taken the pressure off, it was fun rather than frustrating. We went back to the scary slab too - I was impressed that I managed to do it first time in spite of very sweaty hands. I even managed to chalk up half way. Didn't manage that before!

This picture looks pretty vertical; the only down side is that because you can't see my right hand, I could be holding a massive jug. You'll have to take my word for it that there are no crimps on this problem, let alone jugs! All just little tentative smears for both hands and feet.

Scary biscuits! And a welcome bigger hold at the top....not that much bigger though!

The sunshine was wonderful, but just as we reluctantly decided it was time to head back to the city for our evening engagements, the clouds gathered and it started to rain. We didn't feel so bad about leaving after all. When you have to, it's nice to be given another excuse to leave.

Kyloe-in-the-Rain

We made another less than ideal call on the weather last weekend, having other stuff to do on Saturday and opting to climb on Sunday. Ah well, such is life. As we drove down the A1 towards Northumberland the sun was shining and we could see miles out to sea. Caroline commented that she'd always wondered what that coastal view looked like! But as we turned off the A1 it started to rain, and we realised that above the road we were driving along was a line - cloud on the left, sunshine on the right. We were turning left.

Sam had sent Sarah a text message saying that it was pouring at Kyloe so they'd headed to the shelter of Back Bowden. We ploughed on to Kyloe thinking , how bad can it be in the trees.

It stopped raining by the time we got there, but the ground was pretty soggy. Some problems had dribbles of water down them, and some holds were damp but a lot was climbable, and pretty ok actually! Cold and dry.....the elusive "great conditions"!! Wow....this could be exciting ;-)

Then is started raining again. But it was so good to be back on real rock. It felt like ages and ages since I was in Spain, and somehow warm Spanish limestone isn't quite as satisfying as cold, sticky County sandstone. Now why is that?? Am I just strange?


So, amidst lots of sitting about under Cubby's Lip, Sarah managed a proper pop at the sit start to Monty Python's. It was so dark that it took ages to get this photo of her. Eventually I took it about a full second before she moved, which just about gave my cold little camera time to think, charge and flash at the right moment!

For the first time I managed to complete that mammoth traverse from the easy way down leftwards. Caroline too managed it, which surprised her (but not me!) since she's not been climbing for a wee while.

Watching Sarah from the shelter of the Jocks sit start

While the rain was splashing away we thought it might be a good excuse to try the sit start to Jocks and Geordies. It's so hard (for us) that we wouldn't seriously give it a go without a sound reason to do so, probably preferring to concentrate on the standing start (first things first, walk before you run, and all...) But in the rain, it seemed sensible to lie on our backs, feet on the back wall, and just pull hard directly upwards, and from there work out which hand would hold longest if we let go with the other one.

I have to say, that these sorts of sit starts are not my forte. We came up with lots of options, none of which were successful, or even promising. Then someone showed us The Way. It helped, in that we then had something to aim for, but still wasn't enormously successful! I'm just not strong enough yet...

Early attempts in April 2007

When it stopped raining, we crawled out from under the rock and attempted the standing start. I had a go at this in April 2007 and was a long way from reaching the top left hand crimp. To my surprise, this time I managed to get both feet much higher, and wriggled my fingers over the edge of it. Pheewwwwweeeeeee! How exciting was that?! Having done that, I would have gone home quite happily then. To top that, next pop I managed to slap for the top sloper. Big slap. I couldn't hold it, partly because it was a bit.....what's the word? spoogee!, and partly because I didn't hit it quite right.

Looking back at the pictures from April 07 I realised that this time round, I was back-stepping with my left foot rather than twisting my knee in. Maybe that explains the height gain this time round. Ah, the wonders of technique!

So I went home with sore fingers and a smile on my face, psyched to come back and try again.

That's gotta hurt...

Cruising around the blogosphere I came across the Crippled Climber's blog. Intrigued by the header I went to the very first post to establish why this guy had started his blog. Check out his first two or three posts here.

Without wishing to spoil the read for you, the basic premis seems to be that indoor bouldering is bad for your health. Don't look at the pictures if you are remotely squeamish. It makes any of my skin injuries look as pathetic as they really are. I haven't had a chance to read more recent posts properly, but it sounds as though he made a pretty good recovery. Phew!

Dave Redpath's flapper courtesy of the Anvil. A mere scratch.....(Pic. thanks to Hotaches)

The Leeds Wall

Finding your way around a strange city by bus is always a daunting experience, but on this occasion I found the bus driver unusually pleasant and helpful. It's amazing how many things bus stops don't tell you - like fares, route direction (on a map - place names are no use if you don't include all the intermediate stop names), whether the bus gives change or not (in Edinburgh they don't), whether you can buy a return ticket etc etc. I set out for the Leeds Wall not really knowing where I was going, but the 20ft sign on the building helped quite a bit.

Disappointing. It's the only word for it. The higher leading walls look fantastic. Hundreds of routes, steep and slabby, and all of a decent length. In complete contrast, I found the bouldering totally uninspiring. Most of it is steep, and if you're not into steep, or not strong enough for steep, you might as well just walk away. On the vertical sections I reckon 3 extra problems for each one there would easily have fitted into the space available. It sure wasn't easy to invent your own problems with so few holds on the wall. To compound this problem, the walls were just painted - with gloss paint it seemed - and smearing was just not an option.

The most disconcerting thing, though, was the chalked up, rubber-coated, dirty holds. It was sometimes impossible to tell what colour each was, and at most was a challenge to distinguish blue from purple from green. The problems looked as though they had been set in the Dark Ages and not moved since. They were slimy and greasy, no matter how much I scrubbed at them with my trusty little brush.

I got chatting to someone who looked like he might be "local", who told me that he tried hard not to train here; he had a board at home and would even go to Sheffield rather than come here. He also told me that the feet on most of the problems don't change; all the small green screw-ons are permanent fixtures, and any new problems just have to use those feet, no matter whether they are in the right or wrong place. It took me a while to identify the green ones....they all looked mucky black-grey, not green!

Having paid my £3 registration fee (for which I was given a nice new chalk ball - bonus!) and £7.50 for a session, I thought I would just rag my skin on stuff that was way too hard for me. I quit because my skin was sore, not because I'd managed to achieve anything. I made good use of the excellent shop there, though. - lots of ladies kit and a decent range of shoes. Having been told that Sharma's new Pontas shoes were only available from sizes 6-11 I was delighted to find them in my size there. They weren't right for me, but I wouldn't have known that without trying them on. Unfortunately, they didn't have the Heras, which I think are the replacements for my beloved Athenas.

I haven't been to the Climbing Works in Sheffield yet, but in the meantime, long live Alien Rock :-)

Hepburn in the County

Despite being a very Keen Bean, Sarah is good at civilised starts (unlike Caroline!). We eventually left Edinburgh around 11am the Saturday before last and tootled down the A1, three of us and three mats in a Metro. The car alone reminded me of school days and putting £2.50 worth of petrol in the car because that's all you could afford! Fantastic!

Hepburn, for those who haven't been, is right on the top of a hill. There is plenty of Forestry Commission parking, and a well worn path up to the boulders. They're pretty high (and therefore pretty scary) with some very not-so-great landings, but the quality of the rock is very good. It needs some more traffic though; many of the problems were a bit dirty. We had copies of both the new and the old Northumberland Bouldering Guides and having the new one made all the difference. The old guide was laughable in comparison, but I guess these things serve a purpose at the time.

Having only just started to recover from some lurgey I picked up on the bus I had low expectations of the day, hoping that just some fresh air and natural light would make me feel better. It did, but then I managed a couple of problems too which was a big bonus! The grading seemed pretty stiff to me, and Rob and Sarah agreed. Having said that, Rob had forgotten one of his shoes, and still, in one shoe, managed to make very light work of things I found very hard!

Rob in one shoe....

Rather than picking particular problems, I took to following Sarah around, on the basis that I couldn't be bothered to read the guidebook, and Sarah is usually pretty good at picking interesting things to try. I can also be fairly certain that whatever she chooses will keep me busy for a while, even if it takes her 5 seconds!

This problem was graded 6a, but it was pretty tough at that; Rob did it in one shoe! I don't know whether it just took me a while to warm up, but for ages I couldn't even do the first move. Probably bored with my flailing around, Rob and Sarah went back to a highball 7a on the Orthopaedic Boulder, and left me to my own devices. After a bit more flailing I managed to get off the ground, reach across with my right hand to hang awkwardly on the sloper while I worked my feet up enough to reach the little ear-like scoop with my right and swing for the jug with my left. After that it's all over (almost!) but the jug looks a very long way away from where I was hanging off a sloper and a crimpy sidepull!

Another 6a arete with a mean start...

We took a wander along the edge of the wood to the Roof boulder, which was pretty impressive. Even Sarah didn't have a pop at it! We also found some other very gnarly looking problems on the two boulders next to this one; some very crimpy starts with nothing-ness sidepulls higher up; some very blank looking vertical walls; some postage stamp landings - small and with crinkly edges. I couldn't get off the ground on the harder ones (6b, 6c maybe?) so I spent a while trying a 6a arete. You know how you can have days where things just don't make sense until someone spoon feeds you the answer? Well, I was having one of those days. I could not, for love nor money, work out how to get off the ground on this one, until Sarah showed me. The solution was some weird inverted upside down twisted hand positions, manageable for just long enough to slap for the jug.......in Sarah's long-limbed, Inspector-Gadget-arms world. I had to bounce my left hand via a non-pocket to be able to reach the jug. Welcome to my short-limbed, Little Miss Short Arms world!

Sarah on a stretchy highball 7a - if she couldn't reach, there wasn't much point in me trying!

We then followed Sarah's nose through dense pine woodland (think Wild Wood and sharp sticks - interesting with a bouldering mat strapped to your back) for what seemed like hours until we found a very Font-esque boulder with a mossy 7a slab on it. Sarah was the only one with enough energy and enough shoes(!) to have a shot. She made good progress, but it needed a bit of a clean and probably needed to be cooler and drier for her to succeed.

We were being eaten not just by midges but by bigger things which looked suspiciously like mosquitos, so we tootled home. I didn't think they had managed to creep this far north, but maybe they have. Nasty things. I have a bite which is still itchy 2 weeks later. As the weather cools a little and the bugs go back into hibernation, Hepburn is definitely somewhere to go back to.....with a stiff brush and lots of mats and lots more spotters!

Out and About

It seems like forever and a day since I wrote the last blog post. So much has happened in the last year that I think I will still be reeling from the motion for another wee while. I thought I had found something that I wanted to do more than anything else, and that nothing would ever stop me choosing anything else over climbing (given the choice, of course) but I have been proved wrong. Life just takes over sometimes. There are lots of things to do in life. Making the decision what to do first is a dark art, that I am not convinced I will ever master.


So, despite the fact that I have a storage problem at home, stuff everywhere, a house to organise and a pile of filing, I went out climbing. Although my regular trips to the wall have dwindled significantly over the last 6 months, I've still managed to get outside whenever the decent weather (what decent weather??) has coincided with a weekend. This hasn't always meant climbing, but then better to be outside than in, no matter what you're doing.

Three of us trotted up Ben Venue in June, hoping to escape the late afternoon rain. As it was we got drenched, but it was fun anyway. The summer greens and the smell of wet bracken on the walk up was beautiful, and a huge relief from a stuffy office. We found a cute wee frog hiding in the grass too, and nearly got blown off the top.

Greenery and water - themes for Ben Venue

Rescuing the frog from thundering boots

Soon after that, I had a glorious walk up Beinn Iuthan Mhor with Andy. We walked from Dalmunzie House Hotel, up the glen running parallel to Glenshee. In fabulous hot sunshine and a warm breeze it didn't feel like the full 12 or 13 miles. It felt like real summer at last and it was nice to be able to enjoy it.

The view northwards, through the Lairig Ghru, from the top

Early in July we spent a day in Glen Clova. Another glorious day, with tops off, sunburnt shoulders and enough warm breeze to keep the midges quaking in fear underground. We were bouldering this time, with John Watson's new guide to Bouldering in Scotland. It's a beautiful book. At first I thought it might be disappointing because there appeared to be so much rock to climb, but so little of it was documented in the book. But I changed my mind about that, instead finding it pretty inspiring to look at, run around like a nutter and invent my own things to climb. We found a few things first, and then realised they were written up in the book.

Caroline on a nice little vertical crimp-fest

In fact we spent pretty much all day on the Peel Boulder. With Andrea's technique, my slightly foolhardy bravery and Caroline's strength we managed between us to work out the sequence on the Peel Sessions. Given that it was a joint effort I don't think we can claim the Font 6c+ tick! I managed to complete it from standing, but couldn't touch the sit start for love nor money. Andrea cruised the sit start but (probably sensibly) withdrew gracefully from the mad scary top out moves. Caroline too opted to come down rather than go up, as is her wont (ask her about retreating from the highball problem at Bas Cuvier). Instead she proved that her daily trips to the wall are worth it by cruising a tough move to pull from the ground, over the lip of a small roof and onto the slab above.

Diff had some work to do further north so we headed to Inverness for the weekend. The weather looked very flaky for the Saturday so I stayed home with friends, hung out in the garden, played with train sets and watched Cbeebies. It turned out to be sunny where I was and rainy where Diff was. Ah well. On the Sunday we headed south via Huntley's Cave.

Thinking it would probably be running with water our expectations were low. It's a lovely spot, although not ideal for Scottish summer climbing, being down in a gully, by the river and surrounded by trees. Prime midge country, and probably not a quick-dry location, but very pretty. We had Diff's original Highland Outcrops guide which resulted in some interesting route-finding. We also had minimal gear and only one cam! We started on the classic Cave Route, and then moved on the Diagonal (accidentally finishing up the last 3 moves of Cave Route). By the time I was half way up Slot Direct, it was raining. I didn't realise this until I looked down to see Diff with the rope tarpaulin over his head; I was bone dry under the roof of the slot. Good job I did look down, because the top holds were pretty wet and a bit slippy by the time I got to them. Despite not doing much, we discovered it was a good place to go back to. The chippy in Grantown was very nice too!

Somehow in amongst all this I have managed to unpack most of the boxes from our move. What I haven't managed to do is put the contents of the boxes anywhere other than the floor....