Sun-seeking in Spain

The start of this year seems to have been dominated by all things which stop me climbing. Work, mostly. When an organisation loses a key member of staff it is bound to have an impact on those left behind. But I hadn't anticipated it would involve such an escalation in workload. Never mind. It has and longer term maybe it will be good for my career. I hope so!

Amidst the piles of paper and frantic phone calls I found time to say yes to Bong's suggestion of a trip to the Costa Blanca in March. I looked forward to it all year, every week promising myself that this week I would start training for the trip. I blinked and we were on our way to the airport. So much for training. Feeling ill prepared for anything hard I resolved that this would be a sun-seeking, mileage trip, a chance to chill before another busy 4 months.

There is a lot to be said for adjusting one's expectations. Despite my early resolve I spent the first couple of days feeling inadequate, despondent and almost ashamed that I was struggling on so many things I had found so easy in the past. We did two days at Sella, where I've spent a fair amount of time and done all the easy routes and most of the semi-easy ones. On this trip, the harder routes felt out of my league. Eventually I picked myself up (metaphorically speaking) and top roped A golpe de pecho (7a+). I'd looked at it previously but have no idea why I hadn't tried it. The bottom section looks blank and thin, but in fact it was pretty straightforward. The crux, reaching over the bulge on some small and far-away holds was less straightforward and I'm not sure I cracked it in any kind of repeatable or sustainable fashion! I seem to remember bringing my feet up ridiculously high (to the point where my hamstring was pinching painfully) and only just being able to reach the right hand side pull. It would have been good to go back and do a bit more work on it, but as luck would have it, we didn't return to Sella this trip.



After 2 days at Sella, we headed for Gandia. Nice move. Already tired, we opted for brutal, overhanging, tufa-pinching in direct sun! Sweet. We certainly got our years' supply of vitamin D. We also go bitten by some sneaky things with sharp and grubby teeth. My arm swelled to at least a third bigger than it's usual size. I didn't feel a thing until it was too late but it was scary enough to warrant a trip to the pharmacist who sold me a tube of steroid cream that was 500 times stronger than the same stuff available in the UK!

Anyway, we finally got to go through the Tube! So easy and yet so exciting! After 2 days of chilly semi-greyness it was nice to see some bright blue sky.

I'd not climbed with Amanda before this trip, but I think we made a very good team. While I maybe have more experience of sport climbing in Spain, Amanda is infinitely fitter and stronger than me. A wonderful cool-headed climber.

Pepestroika 6b - hanging on to the hanging dong.

Having done the tube route we opted for a long-looking 6b+ called Asquerosa coincidencia. Amanda went up first, looking very smooth. Some of the reaches were enormous. Amanda has a longer reach than I do, so I watched carefully wondering how I was going to grow the extra 3 inches I would need to make some of those moves. About 3/4 the way up Amanda (after a good fight) decided one move was going to defeat her. So I went up next, bolt to bolt (ish). I too struggled on the same move but being slightly fresher from having the clips in already (thanks Amanda!) I got through it. Thereafter the rest of the route turned into a desperate epic! I suspect it was a mind over matter problem and having crossed a line in my head that this was hard and I wanted it to be finished, it seemed to be an eternal battle just to stay on the rock and work out which way to go. I am not ashamed to say that having crossed that line I pulled on gear and stood on bolts, anything just to get to a point where I could lower off safely. It got harder and more run out, and there seemed to be a bit of bushwhacking necessary at the top (which makes me think I went the wrong way). I haven't been so glad to come off a route in quite a long time! So, no pictures of that route, unsurprisingly!

Day three was a rest day and day 4 we went to Olta. This was a new crag for me and I'd heard much about this route:

Amanda on Tai Chi - possibly the most photogenic route I've ever been on. Although the crux was pretty sketchy and I was pumped as anything by the time I got to the jugs at the top, this was a fantastic route!

This is the kind of route that freaks your mum out! Penon de Ifach and Calpe in the background.

For some reason I don't seem to have any pictures of the following two days in Echo Valley. I'd only been to Echo Playa once, in October 2008, when we did many of the easier routes there. This time Bong and Jonni were keen for Monsters of Rock and Bands of the 80s. Lots of jokes abounded about doing George Michael and Led Zepplin in the same day as Judas Priest and Motorhead. While Bong and Jonni moved on to Monsters of Rock, Amanda and I did the easiest 6b in the world: Swing Out Sister. A lovely route but very soft at the grade, particularly in comparison with New Order to it's left which had us shredding tips and flailing around for quite a while.

We'd left the others doing easier routes at Echo Playa, so Amanda and I had the crag to ourselves. I noted with interest my reaction to the boys not being there. Suddenly things were calmer and I felt more at home and more able to concentrate on what I was doing. While it's lots of fun to climb next to people who are really psyched, I find it hard to climb as well as I can. The banter between those two is hilarious and I really enjoy their company, they are two of the best people ever to have on climbing holidays. But it proved to me that there is time and place for everything: sometimes it's good to spend some time on a route, enjoy figuring it out and gaining the satisfaction of completing it in one go; sometimes it's good to just throw yourself at any and every route, not caring whether you've "ticked" it, not caring whether you cheated or not, just enjoying climbing with your mates.

On the morning of our last climbing day I heard something I thought I would never hear. Bong said he was too knackered to climb. I was stunned. Actually, what happened was that I cricked my neck yawning and stretching in bed that morning and it was really painful, so much so that I suggested to Bong I might not be able to climb. His instant reaction was that he didn't think I should and that I might do myself more damage if I did. That was odd in itself. The later admission that he was too knackered explained it in full!

Rather than sack it off totally, we headed to the Altea Hills. What an epic to get there - the guidebook says go past the security guards without attracting their attention. Er... not easy when there are barriers across the road! Having felt a bit like jailbreakers skirting past and sizing them up as opponents, we discovered that they were very approachable, very helpful and directed us straight to the crag! It was a nice looking bit of rock too. Shame that it was 6 feet from a new building site with bolts that had certainly seen better days!

Would you climb on these? Thought not.... The routes looked like good fun but I wasn't so keen on tackling anything with bolts that looked like they might just slide out. With the housing developments encroaching ever more on the climbing space, I can see that this nice wee crag might just get blasted out of existence one day and end up as the floor of a swimming pool.....which would be a great shame.

So instead, we went to Toix and did multipitch!! Wow, what excitement. We paired up and picked our routes. Gary and I took the adventurous option of 4 pitches of 5, 5+, 3(!) and 4+. The climbing was pretty straightforward for both of us, but I must admit to feeling grateful for it when I realised I was about 20m up and had only just reached the second clip! Airy is one word for it! We ploughed on and inevitably found we'd left the route-finding brain cells in a sealed jar at the bottom of a rucksack back in the car. So what should have been a pretty straightforward 4 pitch route turned into 5 pitches, a ridge scramble, 3 abseils and a walk off!! It was probably a bit hairy but actually I really enjoyed the adventure. It wasn't hard, it wasn't beyond our means, but it was definitely exciting! This little red word next to one abseil point just summed it up really:

Just as we got back to our bags, removed tight shoes from hot, sweaty and sore feet the rain began to fall. Pitter patter. Perfect timing. And a pretty cracking end to a great holiday.

Encroaching development...where will it stop?

Siurana Sunshine

Although I knew I wasn't feeling quite right about my climbing, I hadn't realised exactly how low my psyche had got until I spent 3 days in Spain with the two Daves, Mike and Alicia. What I can't work out is whether it was the place, the company or a combination of both which restored my psyche.

The crew had set up base camp in Cornudella and were dividing their time, it seems, between Margalef and Siurana. While I'd missed much of the excitement, there were still projects on the go, yet to be sent and plenty more to be found. I went out on a flying visit with no expectations of myself which was quite liberating. Usually on trips I find myself building up the pressure to climb something harder than I've ever climbed before, or at least as hard as I've ever climbed before. But since most of this year has been full of things which are a distraction from climbing, I figured that such an attitude was only going to end in tears and disappointment.

Mike on 8a+ at Cova Boix (I think?)

While I was very much looking forward to returning to Siurana, I was also very conscious that the last time I was there Caroline and I had already spent 10 weeks climbing constantly. I was certainly at the top of my game then, and I worried a little that Siurana was really going to kick me into touch. Only a few weeks earlier I'd been very close (oh so painfully close!) to redpointing Law of Gravity (the 7a+ version - I can't reach the 7a version) at North Berwick. But since last year I reckon I had lost touch with what 7a and 7b felt like in general, let alone on Spanish limestone and mores the point, in Siurana. It strikes me now, writing this, that this proved to me how much I (and quite probably others) rely on grades to keep us steady in measuring both our progress and our current ability.

There are so many debates on grades; just check the forums on UKClimbing. It gets boring reading other people's nitpicking and petty quibbling about the grade of some new route, whether it's E8 or E9, E10 or E12, 8b or just 8a+. But, unless climbers bother to grade things justifiably, it is very hard to maintain some idea of how well one is climbing. In fact, there might as well be no grading system at all, since the point of a system is to provide a means of measurement and why measure how hard something is, unless the intention is to also measure an individual's progress or achievement by it? As an aside, I would rather the grading be done by concensus in a public forum, and I don't mean an internet chat forum.

Team Margalef

Anyway, I digress. I had no idea whether I'd be able to climb 7a in Siurana, so the most sensible option seemed to be to abandon all expectations, and go for the bolt-to-bolt, climb-in-the-sunshine options.

Happy days. It worked! Siurana is a beautiful place, and I had forgotten how pretty that part of the world is. I really enjoyed being back there. It was just as cold, just as sunny, and just as inspiring as it was a year ago. With only 3 days to climb, I was happy to tag along with the others and climb whatever was available. We started off in Margalef.

The trees in Margalef itself were a beautiful colour in the late afternoon winter sunshine

We had only spent one day in Margalef last year and it was hot. So hot, Dave refused to climb until it was almost dark! OK, not quite, but you get my drift. This time, not so. It was very chilly in the shade, but pleasantly warm in the sun. While Mike and Dave R headed to Dave's project at Laboratori, Alicia and I went to the dark side and pretended to warm up....on 6c. I say pretended to warm up, because it was baltic! I had brand new shoes on, hadn't climbed for a week, hadn't climbed outside for 6 weeks, and we picked 6c as a starter for 10. And I went first. With all those excuses I think I did very well. I even fell off and didn't scream, which is quite an achievement for me. I can only assume that my lack of expectations for the trip extended to completing routes and falling off! Anyway, the 6c went first redpoint, having decided that I was simply too cold to to anything other than bolt-to-bolt on the first try. Next up was (for me) an onsight of a 6b+ route that Alicia had done earlier in her trip. See, my expectations were so low, I can't even tell you the names of the routes!

Alicia ticking her project

Next up was Alicia's project - the 7a+ tufas overhanging the valley road. It was a lovely looking route, which she cruised easily first time, although I am told she'd had a bit of time working it before I arrived. Her ascent looked pretty effortless to me, particularly after it threw itself at me! Spanked. Well and truly. It was nice to be in the sun by this point, so I was warm enough to warrant an attempt. The first move is like that cold shower at 6am - a bit of a slap. Standing on a precariously placed rock atop a very unconsolidated conglomerate bank, there is a tiny left hand crimp under the mini-roof, and a long reach over the top for a jug. Feet are just about on the kickboard above the bank, but for me (and Alicia I think) the next move is to cut loose and swing a right heel up, cross over with the right and pull. Hard. Yes, it's a grunt move. In all honesty it wasn't that hard. I easily had the strength to do it. The problem was the lack of stamina to get beyond the 7th move.

Reaching for the 4th clip on the tufas

So I fell off. Ah well. For the sheer satisfaction, it was probably worth doing that move several times more. But that wouldn't have got me to the top of the route! A few (vaguely impressed, ego-stroking and very welcome) oohs and aahs from Dave and Mike, and suddenly I felt like the Old Pretender, slightly ashamed that I couldn't deliver what my had been promised from the starting block. Still, it was fun. Thus my first Margalef project was born. I haven't climbed tufas like that before. They were pretty powerful and two days later I worked out a very different sequence from Alicia's. It'll go next time. With a bit of training.

La Rambla

The following day we headed to the valley crags of Siurana itself. In celebration of ticking her tufa project the day before, Alicia had proven her capacity for consumption of rotten grapes and had a hangover. But today we were destined for Mandragora, that fabulous orange streak visible in all her glory from the road up to Siurana. Caroline and I had looked but dare not touch last year. Today, Alicia, took her hangover up to the crux and decided enough was enough. So I followed her up to that point, clipstick in tow, and managed all the moves, with a little bit of thought and re-try, up to the first belay. I had been slow, and the crowds were gathering so I forewent the opportunity to explore the upper section.

I really enjoyed it. The crux section was hard, on very tiny crimps, and polished!! I guess this is Siurana, so 7b is the warmup route. No wonder it was polished. Having said that, we moved round the corner so that Dave could have a look at La Rambla. He later told me that that too has some polish on it, probably due to Dani Andrada's 300 redpoints!

7b was harder than I remembered it being, but with a bit of stamina training, Mandragora might go too next time. Project number 2. I've also added this to Caroline's tick list (if she has one) although she won't know that until she reads this ;-)

Mike's damaged skin from Margalef's sharp pockets

I can't write about this trip without mentioning Dave's last ditch attempts at his 8b+/8c(?) project at Laboratori, Margalef. To avoid the circus of local families there on Saturday and the heat of the day, he resorted to turning the car headlights on full beam. Unfortunately, this meant having the engine running.... thereby filling the Laboratori ave with diesel fumes!

Cool enough to climb, but too dark to see! Mr Redpath in the zone.

Four flights and two days travelling was definitely worth it for three days climbing. I came home psyched to climb more and more. I'm not sure I'm so psyched for the training involved, but maybe aiming for anothter spring trip to Siurana might spur me on further.

Team Margalef, high on diesel fumes at Laboratori!

A sight for sore eyes

There are some things I never thought I'd see, and a Spaniard climbing in the kilt was one of them. I think we agreed it suited Jose rather well, and it didn't seem to impede his climbing ability one iota!

Bit racey, flashing all that leg, don't you think??!

We had a fun evening. I hope Jose will take his new-found fashion back to Spain and treat the ladies there to it. I'm sure they will be thrilled! Shame we can't continue to have the pleasure of his company here too, but we wish him well for the future and hope to see him again soon.

Warm Spanish limestone

I'm just back from a week climbing in El Chorro (southern Spain). We had some great climbing weather, not too hot, but no rain, and some great climbing. While it's always nice to come home, as soon as I am here, I realise how much more climbing there is to do out there and how much I want to go back.

El Chorro is an amazing gorge. We didn't get time to take a wander along the famous Camino del Rey (partly because most of the climbing along there is beyond what we are currently capable of tackling!), but we did wander along the railway to Los Cotos, for some superb slab climbing and a tremendous view of the inside of the gorge.


More pictures here.

It's very easy, when one is accustomed to climbing at indoor walls, to kid oneself that indoor grades = outdoor grades. Not so, my friend. Outside, for me, it's all a head game. It's not about strength or technique as much as it is about being brave enough and confident enough to climb higher than the last bolt. On a toprope, I can probably manage F6c without too much trouble. On the lead, I'm only just scraping through F6b+. Having said that, at Sella in November I was lucky to get away with leading F6a+, so there is some improvement somewhere along the line. Maybe it's just about mileage. The more I do, the better I get.... or rather, the less worried I am about falling or climbing above the last bolt.

On Dos Tetas Tiran (6b+)

Some odd things come to mind...KT Tunstall... "On comes the panic light, Holding on with fingers and feelings alike. But the time has come, To move along...". I still hung around too long; my right arm was pumped solid! More pics of the things I found especially challenging here.



Tonight I am having a night off, making cake. No climbing. The skin on my fingers is sloughing like an adolescent snake, and having seen the Fizzy-O this morning I should give my shoulder a break....by sitting at my computer. Err....

Enough. Cake is ready.