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?

More Snow!

I didn't think we could be so lucky as to have two decent-weather-days on consecutive weekends, but then it seems it is possible to get lucky after all! On Sunday we opted for a 12 mile trek through the snow which wouldn't (we hoped!) require the use of ironmongery. The hills on the south side of Loch Tay don't seem particularly appealing for most of the year, but in the low wintry sunshine and lots of snow they looked ethereal. The wind was biting (something we hadn't missed the previous weekend!) and hands were frozen solid within seconds of removing gloves. As a result, I felt better about not trying to go climbing. I would have been just too cold. Even the sheep looked cold here!

Cruach Ardrain

These pictures are for Caroline. While she's been shooting things in California, we were crashing through deep powder near Crianlarich. We didn't get to the top, running out of time and daylight (never mind energy) but we had a fabulous day. It's rare that we get to enjoy days like this in the hills when we're at work Monday to Friday. Yesterday was a delight, absolutely delicious. Wading back through the corrie was exhausting; every three steps one leg would disappear entirely into the snowy depths, usually to be eaten by the hidden but unfrozen bog beneath. Today I feel like I have been swimming in treacle. Everything hurts.

We found some potential bouldering spots just above the col between Cruach Ardrain and Stob Garbh. I'm not sure I'd want to haul my big mat all the way up there (except that it would be good training....er, for what?) but if I had my shoes and a wee brush it would definitely be worth a potter.

Team 2010

Tyndrum and Bridge of Orchy hills in the sunset

Cruach Ardrain in the background

Big Brothers: Ben More and Stob Binnein

Good bouldering in the summer? High enough to be cool and windy so maybe midge-free? Needs cleaning....

Guy in his element

Icicles. Amazing how much colder it was out of the sunshine

I don't usually make New Year resolutions, but this year I might make an exception and make a few (to make up for those years I haven't made any, maybe). One of these is to climb more. It's started well with a couple of trips to the wall already. I need to lose half an inch around my waist (which is more difficult for me than for many) and regain some self-respect with my climbing. There has been too much work and not enough play recently. That has to change. Might as well start now! Happy New Year.....

Christmas Snow

Here is my excuse for not getting out nearly as much as I should have done over the Christmas hols.

First day of hols and what happens? I wake up early to THIS and my lie-in is well and truly busted. Way too excited.

Solar hats...?

Safety-conscious Frosty

Keep Calm and Carry On

This website came to me, in relation to work, from a friend:
Keep Calm and Carry On: http://www.keepcalmandcarryon.com

After the last week or so of office life, it seems like an appropriate thing to remember, but I also wondered whether the phrase applies quite nicely to climbing...

But also on that website I found this:

‘There is no trouble so great or grave that cannot be much diminished by a cup of tea. ’
Bernard-Paul Heroux

I need to remember that.

Kirriemuir Sports Day

As the promise of Saturday dawned bright and clear, we headed for the wide open skies of Angus and Kirrie Hill. Many people have talked about Kirrie. I wouldn't say it was quite acquiring legendary status, but certainly there has been enough mention to make me curious. Bong said it was a suntrap like North Berwick (which I always find encouraging) and that it had plenty of 6b/6c/7a type routes.

What I didn't know until we were sliding down the steps towards it, was that it's sandstone. Fine, I thought. Northumberland is sandstone. But there was a wee niggle in the back of my head reminding me that the only bolted sandstone I'd climbed on was the Arbroath sea cliffs, and that isn't on my list of climbing highlights.  But it was a beautiful day, and it felt as though I hadn't seen one of those from outside an office in quite a while. 

For those who haven't been, I think this is a former quarry, judging by the drill hole lines visible on the rock face. It's much bigger than I expected, but a reasonably decent height, and plenty of it. According to the wee guide produced by Awesome Walls in Dundee there are between 50 and 60 routes there (with new ones being cleaned and opened while we were there).  The bolts seem to be in all the right places and all look pretty good. And yes, it's a lovely little suntrap.

Demonstrating the lack of reach

True to form we started on a 5+. This was the first time Diff and I had been climbing (rather than bouldering) since our washout trip to Siurana in March.  I must say I didn't have any hopes for anything harder than this, thinking that my leading head would be well underground by now. But apparently a degree of nonchalance about leading seems to help. We nailed The Hill Has Eyes at 5+ good and proper. Nice.  On to Never Never Land at 6a+, but not so nonchalant now. The first half was dead easy, but it nailed me good and proper at the first crux. First off, the slopers were damp. In fact, everything was slightly damp. "Spoogie" I think is the word Sonnie and Cory used about Dumbie in May 2008.

Second, I couldn't reach either the intermediate crimp let alone the good edge of the flake in order to pull up over. It was one of those annoying situations where strength wasn't lacking, and technique seemed of little help to me with short arms and short legs. Having tried everything, this way, that way, left and right, I came down, thwarted and despondent.  Diff and Bong both scooshed up it, but then they are both considerably taller than me.  I'm sure there is a way to get around it, but I couldn't fathom it, not even on a rope. Eventually I went up and just pulled on the draw to get past that section. Ah well. Another time.

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf’s a flower” Albert Camus

Another one of my dubious explanations of why I can't do something

Next up was Bong on What Every Woman Wants (6c). This looked good, and much more my thing.  There's a proper hands off rest in the middle before the real fun begins. When I say real fun, I didn't anticipate it would take so many forms. The first 3 bolts are great, but sandy as you like, which is a bit frightening. The ledges were big enough, but I realised that on anything small I wasn't going to trust my feet.

Having watched the lanky two get past the crux moves I was dubious about how I might re-work that section.  I opted for the cruise sideways followed by a long stretch upwards with the right, before latching the good pocket over the lip with my left hand.  However, on my exploratory cruise left I pulled on something gently which promptly came away in my hand. I didn't pull hard, so I didn't ping off, but what was left behind was a lovely little ledge just the right size for 3 of my fingers. From this, with a high foot and a mega-growing-stretch, I could reach the bad scoop (one could hardly call it a pocket) and pull up to the good pocket. to clip the next clip. Hurrah!

 

I couldn't work the very top section out, so I left it for another time. On short winter days I am conscious that other people want to climb too and that taking my time redpointing isn't always a friendly thing to do.

Our fourth route was, I think, a 6c+ called Dig Deep. It looked fine, but the amount of rock raining down on us while Bong was climbing was alarming.  At one point a huge chunk exploded in his hand and showered crumbs of sandstone upon us. Feelings of guilt and alarm featured equally prominantly as I too started up this route. Diff wisely left it well alone. For the first time I started to question the integrity of the rock into which the bolts were sunk, although they looked fine from the outside.

 

Diff belaying in the winter sun

Our final route was a 6a+, which I didn't identify a name for. By this time I really wasn't trusting my feet; my arms were tired and my head was somewhere else. I just couldn't work out how to climb the overhanging start. Frustration got the better of me and toys were on their way out of the pram. Diff and Bong cruised it, of course, and the sourpuss in me put my failure down to lack of concentration rather than lack of ability! I am the master of excuses when I want to be.

 

Diff being inventive on the 6a+

Bong last up in the evening light

As we were leaving, I reflected on how good the climbing actually was. I really enjoyed it; a combination of getting out after so long, being able to (mostly) climb something, not being cold (even on 31st October!).  The routes are good routes. The rock was questionable. I realised how much I rely on my feet being solid and how much it unsettles me when they're not.  I was less worried about handholds breaking and more worried about my feet sliding off, although clearly both were equally likely. Maybe it was a little too damp, maybe we shouldn't have been climbing because of that (although plenty others had made the same call as us and the crag was almost busy!). Maybe the crag is just "new" (as much as Early Devonian sandstone can be new) and the routes just need more traffic to stabilise them.

Most of all, though, I realised that I missed Caroline.

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....

Sunshine on Scotland

The weekend before last we had a fabulous day in Glen Coe. Diff was filming and I tagged along to carry bags, with the promise of a day's climbing in Glen Nevis on the Sunday.

We were in Glen Coe by 08.30 on Saturday, and had the most perfect weather imaginable. Enough breeze to keep the midges away most of the time, as well as glorious sunshine all day. It was hot and sweaty work carrying film kit up Buachaille Etive Mor, but the views from the top were undoubtedly rewarding.

How often do you see the whole of Scotland spread out before you, tops as far as the eye can see, the sea in one direction and Rannoch Moor in the other. Even the Ben was cloud free. Incredible.

We were exhausted by the time we headed to our digs in Fort William. We had chips to keep us going, sat on the harbour wall, wondering who the hell thought it was a good idea to concrete over Fort William's greatest asset - it's sea loch frontage. Sometimes I despair at the shortsightedness of urban planners and developers. And while I'm having a whinge, why is there nowhere decent to eat in Fort William?? Curry, Chinese, a chippy and everything else looked as though it had come from a Brake Bros. refrigerated van. If we missed something, recommendations on a postcard please.

And on Sunday it rained. No climbing :-( We were so disappointed and frustrated, but it just wasn't going to happen. We went to the Oban Sealife Sanctuary instead, and tried to learn 11 things for the £11 each it cost us. Did you know, for example, that there is a 1 in 10 million chance of a baby cod making it to adulthood? And did you know that 150,000 sea turtles are killed accidentally by fishing nets and the like, each year.

It's a beautiful spot and they do some good work there rescuing seals and returning them to the wild. By the time we headed down the road to Glen Ogle to check out some of the crags there it was bright sunshine, but all the crags were running with water. We strolled along the disused railway and ate wild strawberries. Not quite the day we had hoped for, but we felt better for being out and about.

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.