I love Paris...

It rained, so we went to Paris. It rained more there. We did the fastest tour ever, (almost) visiting 6 major tourist attractions in one day.

First we went to Notre Dame, where Caroline lit a candle and prayed for sunshine. We think that our irreverence might have offended someone in the sky because its been a bit damp ever since.

Then we stood outside the Louvre and admired the gallons of water pouring through the fountains. Lovely. The glass pyramid was pretty too, as were the queues to get in, so we we stayed outside.... in the rain.

By the time we walked to the Musee d'Orsay it was more like a monsoon than just rain.


So we relented and took a bus half way to the Eiffel Tower. We couldn't work out which bus to get next so we just walked; we were wet anyway. Climbing the Eiffel Tower was a bit of an anticlimax. It seemed that half of England's rugby fans were there with us. But it is quite an interesting bit of metal work. I reckon Monseiur Eiffel had more than a GCSE in Technology ;-)

Then we walked up to see the chaos that is the Arc de Triomphe. Wow. Suicide, is the only word I can think of. The French don't appear to be very good at roundabouts at the best of times. This was just a free-for-all. Unbelievable. We eventually decided it would be (marginally) safer crossing it by bus. I am so glad it wasn't me driving. At one pont the bus driver got out and tapped on the window of the guy in front. I've no idea what he said, but he clearly was not happy.

Our next stop was Sacre-Coeur. We were again relieved to catch a bus there; it would have been a long and wet walk. By the time we got there it had stopped raining...mostly. We wandered around Montmartre, which struck me as being a bit like Soho, but smaller and a bit more quaint than urban. Very interesting.

We thought it looked like a good place for catalogue poses...

As it started to get dark, I started to panic that my confident understanding of the "dernière train à Fontainbleau" as 22.30 might actually have been 20.30. So we ran, from bus to bus to station, and jumped on a train at 20.27 which said "Fontainbleau" just as the bleepers went to close the door. Then the train didn't stop.... and didn't stop.... and didn't stop. As we were starting to freak it stopped at Bois le Roi, which is the one before Font. Phew. I had visions of us ending up somewhere close to Nice in the dark and the rain.

But then the following day was nice and sunny. So we went back to 95.2 and ticked some 5c things which was lots of fun, as was soaking up the sunshine. We might be acquiring some reptilian traits with all this damp weather!

PS. The French cannot make maps for toffee. It's definitely not my map reading. I can forgive French cartographers for the maps of the forest, since there are so many boulders the temptation to retreat for another glass of vin rouge would have got me too. But they can't make maps of Paris either!! We are lucky to still be alive after our visit to the urban jungle that is gay Paris.

Blue No. 9 - 3c

Here is a good example of the grade madness that exists in Fontainbleau. Has anyone tried (and can recall) the Blue (or Ultramarine, as the purple book calls it) circuit at des Gorges d'Apremont? No. 9 of said circuit is graded 3c. Here are some pictures:


It starts right of the tree in this picture, then you have to hang with your right hand from the chalky white slopey pocket just to the left of the tree. Then you make a strong move (well, for me at least) left. Cross over with your right, then take a tiny finger pocket with your left hand while you sort your feet, which are tucked well under the rock.

From there, reach up with your left hand to the right-most of the two top pockets, which are also slopey. From here I can't keep my feet on and reach up for the top crimp, so I have to cut loose before going from there to the good holds on the slopey top out above.


So, sounds easy enough; the grade is easy enough. But the holds are so shiny you could apply your mascara using them as a mirror. I did all the moves, and was very close to linking them until I came flying off backwards as I went up for the top pocket, just landed on the mat and jarred my wrist where the mat wasn't quite big enough. Even without the polish of 50 years of sweaty hands, it's pretty powerful.

So why does it get 3c when other things, which I can do without encountering near death experiences (!), get 6a? Needless to say we abandoned circuits and grades, and resorted to using the guidebook purely to locate ourselves (which isn't exactly straightforward, is it!? More on maps in another post...) It's definitely a better way to go in Font.

First Forays into Font

Our first week in Font has proved very interesting. What a place! It took us 5 days to get our heads around the grading system, find our way around and work out what was where. It is possibly the strangest place I have ever climbed but also the most exciting. I also have to say that our egos have taken something of a knock. We thought we were climbing quite respectable grades but in Font it seems that you can almost halve your best grade, and only expect to be able to climb at that level. It wasnt a nice feeling at all. Still, things improved and I have hopes for Font 7a .... one day!!! Ha Ha.

4c No. 27 red at 91.1

We were surprised to find that after 3 days we still had lots of skin left on our fingers, although we wont deny that they were sore. We started off with the yellow circuit at 95.2 which was dead easy, but lots of fun. We tried some more circuits, but struggled to find many of the problems, spent ages walking between them, and got very frustrated, not knowing how to find our feet with things. By Friday lunchtime we were quite despondent about things. I certainly felt I had achieved nothing (Caroline less so, I think) and was almost ready to go home. Me and my bloody expectations....

The moment we decided to abandon the various coloured circuits was a revelation. We picked a couple of problems that looked entertaining, and just kept trying them. Success!! Having not found the 3bs as easy as we thought we should have done, we cranked through 4c slabs and 5a crimps without too much difficulty. Still only 4c qnd 5a though....

Caroline on an un-graded pockety problem at 91.1

Yesterday, we forgot the guidebook, and found ourselves a long and strenuous traverse at 91.1 (number 29 red for those of you who are interested). We spent an hour or so on it, and sent it just as our strength and energy was starting to fade. We didn't know what grade it was at the time, but it turns out it's 5b! It was hard! What I don't understand is that the 6a+ I did at La Roche aux Sabots was so easy by comparison..... This French world is very...... well, French I guess! I am looking forward to many discussions about the randomness of Font grades, and to the many explanations I might find for the variability and (apparent) inconsistencies. All comments welcome here!

The 5b traverse, which was much easier for tall people...we watched them!

Me on a 4c slab at 95.2

Andy Shanks on Sale Gosse 7c+ at La Roche aux Sabots

Apologies for the awkwardness of this post, and for the un-rotated pictures. I can't get to grips with a French keyboard; it's spoiling the artistic flow of my prose (!!). Nor have I worked out how to get my camera to rotate the pictures before I plug it into this internet cafe pc. You'll have to turn your monitor sideways to see the pictures properly!

PS. 25.12.07 I've rotated the pictures now!

Climbing Shoe Woes

Does anyone else have this problem? As soon as I find a pair of climbing shoes that really work for me, they stop making them. Why is that? Am I alone in suffering this disappointment and inconvenience?

I have had a pair of Evolv Athena shoes for about 9 months. They were small, very positive and a bit sore to start with, and now I can hardly bear to be parted from them, in spite of their filth and stench. They make my footwork feel invincible, although I know fine well it isn't. There are folks in favour of small shoes, and folks who don't believe in sore feet. I don't believe in sore feet either (mostly, and definitely when it comes to "ordinary" shoes), but I am firmly converted to the notion that small climbing shoes means an ability to stand on very small edges.

My fabulous but stinky Athenas

My Athenas are just about to go through at the toes (I blame one session on the newly-painted lead wall at Alien Rock for the accelerated thinning of the rubber) and I want a new pair. I searched every online shop I can find, across the globe, and finding a size 5.5 Athena was impossible. Then the nice people at Gear for Girls told me that Evolv have stopped producing them. WHY?? Why, oh why, oh why, oh why, oh why?

So I now have a pair of the Evolv Elektra. They're comfortable, and they fit well, but they're very soft. They're not terribly good for standing on small things, or for edging, but I think I will be able to wear them all day every day for a long while.....which is what I am going to be doing. We'll see how they stand up.

Shiny new Elektras

I also have a pair of 5.10 Sirens, which I bought as "comfy-all-day-shoes" but haven't worn very much. The rubber on them is very sticky, but I have a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach that the shape and fit isn't going to be good with my feet. I hear so many people say that 5.10 are the best shoes ever, that they only wear 5.10 blah blah blah. Absolute nonsense, if you ask me. All shoes are different, and everyone will find a shoe that suits them (if only they buy enough pairs!). I like Evolv shoes (but maybe that has something to do with the asociations with Greek deities!) and I can't wear Red Chilli shoes. It's just a pain when the manufacturers in their great wisdom change or stop making the shoes that are perfect for you!

Sirens, Athenas and Elektras

Does anyone know about the new Evolv Hera shoe? I have heard it's on it's way, and I think it must be the replacement for the Athena, but I can't find anywhere that stocks it in order to work out what size I need.....without shelling out a fortune in postage. And I can only find US sizes. Any ideas?

Statistical Analysis

I have a small confession to make: I have been indoctrinated by statisticians for too long, in both my academic years and again at work. So I am going to indulge the part-time amateur statistician in me by suggesting the following.

The results of the poll are in: 6 Rock Chicks and 17 Real Men.

It looks as though my prediction was right. There are more men reading this blog than women, and if my previously stated assumption stands, this translates to there being more male than female climbers. This of course assumes that it is only climbers who read this blog, that everyone who read this blog in the last week voted in the poll, and that those who did vote were honest with their votes and didn't change them (thanks for pointing that out, Tom!).

So, in the interests of fighting the statistical indoctrination (as part of my 15-years-too-late teenage rebellion), I should also say the following:

• I know that not everyone who reads this blog is a climber
• I know that not everyone who read this blog last week voted in the poll
• I have no way of knowing whether all votes were honest votes, or whether there are some people voting who are in complete denial of their gender.

I think the non-statistician wins this argument, and we should conclude that my poll proves nothing. I hesitate to say it was a waste of time, because clearly it has provided me with some entertainment (!) in thinking and writing about it, and you with some entertainment in reading it....if of course you've read this far. If you were completely disinterested, I doubt you would have reached this paragraph. Maybe it's even made you laugh (although what odd sense of humour you would need in order to find this funny, I have no idea) which would be a bonus, but highly unlikely.

On reflection, I should probably stick to climbing, yoga and making cake, and leave the statistics to the real liars :-)

There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics.

Benjamin Disraeli

Gender Divide

Having been told an alarming statistic the other day about how few women climb hard in Scotland, I came to thinking about the gender divide in climbing. Clearly, climbing is a male dominated sport, probably at both professional and amateur levels. Although there is no shortage of amazing and inspiring female climbers, I sometimes wonder whether women shy away from climbing, believing that it is competitive, macho and testosterone-fuelled. Personally, I have encountered very few displays of unpleasant behaviour in this regard, and when I have, they have been easy to walk away from.

I am, however, a firm believer that being female offers distinct advantages in climbing, and that there is no reason why with some effort, women can't climb as hard as they like. We're generally (although not always!) smaller and lighter and therefore have a better power to weight ratio. We have small fingers - I can get all 4 fingers into a pocket that Martin could only fit 2 into. How cool is that? We might not be able to lank things, but we all know that lanky boys have no body tension! I'm sure I don't even need to mention the sit-starts issue....

Anyway, back to what I really wanted to know, which was what the gender divide is between readers of my blog. If I make a perhaps unrealistic assumption and suggest that folks who read this are probably climbers, I wonder what the split is? Help me out and complete the poll on the right. I hope I will be pleasantly surprised....

950 Hours of Climbing

Our Great Escape is now imminent. I can't quite believe it. Having said to so many people that 2007 would see a big change for me, I didn't actually know what I was going to do, where, who with or how..... Then earlier this year Caroline idly asked if I wanted to go to Australia with her this summer. The conversation went something like this:

Caroline: I don't suppose you want to come to Australia with me for 4 weeks this summer?
Me: Hmm... nice, but I can't really take 4 weeks off work at once.
Caroline: Ah well.
Me: You could climb your way round Australia. That would be cool.
Caroline: Yeah, I hadn't thought of that.
Me: Does it have to be Australia?
Caroline: No.
Me: Does it have to be the summer?
Caroline: No. I was going to quit my job anyway.
Me: No way.
Caroline: Yes way......Why?
Me: I was going to do that too.
Caroline: No way.
Me: Yes way.
[stop breathing]
[long pause]
Me: [remembering to breathe] Why don't we quit and go climbing?
Caroline: Cool! Let's do it!
[collective giggle]

In the ensuing 20 minutes of babble we managed to work something out. Finances are sorted, work is on hold, our disbelief is nearly suspended.... So, we have 950 hours of climbing ahead of us. This may seem trivial to some, but for us it is well outside our comfort zones. We should have done it years ago, but such are circumstances that we didn't. We didn't even know each other until about 10 months ago!

Having spent 6 months concentrating on logistics, maybe it's about time to think about some climbing objectives! We have a nominal goal of 7c (or 7a!) by Christmas, depending whether we're feeling cocky or realistic. Other than that, the list looks like this:

• climb
• do some yoga
• onsight F7a
• get strong
• climb more
  
• work on the tan
• climb even more

It seems a bit limited. No doubt things will fall into place, as they appear to have done so far. All suggestions welcome, although we can't guarantee to give each one full and serious consideration!

Festival Madness

Having managed to avoid most of this year's Edinburgh Festival, I walked down the High Street on Monday, just to see what was doing.

Despite the annoyances of the Festival (extra traffic, people stopping in the middle of the street to take photographs, tourists assuming that the whole city is pedestrianised during the Festival, drunk people rolling back at 3am every night) Edinburgh is a vibrant place to be in August. I still find some of the things people do as part of the Festival very odd and very funny. But each to their own. I'm sure there are plenty of people who think me and my climbing are equally odd and funny. The world would be a very tedious place if we were all the same.

Flatlands

There has been no climbing of significance to report over the last week or so, since I was forced, much against my will, to take a trip to the Flatlands of Middle England. Milton Keynes.

Even worse, I had to travel via Luton.

Luton Station....like any other railway station in the south east

Yet another instance of Work interfering with Play. I shouldn't grumble, since I am about to have a whole 14 weeks away from Work, in order to Play. But it is frustrating, when there isn't even an indoor wall to visit.

Milton Keynes, of course, has an indoor snow slope. Heading eastwards, I think it must be the biggest hill between there and the Alps! It is certainly visible on the horizon almost all the way from Luton. I knew that there was supposed to be a climbing wall of some description under this artificial hill, but the details on UKC were scanty and the Ellis Brigham website didn't give any more useful information than a phone number (which wasn't much use to me, doing my research, as usual, at midnight the night before departure). I managed to orchestrate my travel so as to minimise the time work activities would take and maximise my chances of locating and using said climbing facility.

Xscape, Milton Keynes. A pretend hill...

Nothing had quite prepared me for the disappointment of what Milton Keynes had to offer in terms of climbing facilities. Inside a shop were two tall towers, with assorted holds bolted to them. In addition to this was a very low and short bouldering wall, maybe 12 feet high and around 30 feet long. It cost £10 for HALF AN HOUR . The towers themselves looked as polished as the F3+ routes at Sella and the self-belay devices indicated that this is a "have-a-go" facility. As soon as you let go of the wall, the self-belay device lowers you right to the ground, thereby offering no scope for "working" moves. Maybe there weren't any moves to work anyway.

I had a chat with the staff in the shop, who were very nice. The facility is really aimed at children with desperate parents on wet Saturday afternoons. To that end, it is a fun and entertaining place to introduce pint-sized people to the joys of this wonderful sport, in the hope that it will inspire them to pursue it further. But I left thoroughly disappointed. It seems clear to me that Milton Keynes (and its environs) is a prime location for an indoor climbing facility. Everything else about this town is artificial; an indoor climbing wall would fit in beautifully.

This brings me to my rant about Milton Keynes itself. I might be biased against this fair corner of England on the basis that it offers me no opportunities to indulge my obsession, but that aside, I think I have never come across anywhere so soul-less and unimaginative. The theories of post-war town planning make sense; they're logical, there isn't any obvious or scientific reason why completely new, planned urban environments should not be successful. And yet, to travel around and through Milton Keynes is an almost terrifying experience. While it is green and leafy, the traffic flows smoothly round umpteen roundabouts, houses glimpsed through the trees look well-kept and tidy, it feels sterile and clinical. Where are the people? Why are there not more cyclists? Is there some kind of curfew in place, or a local bylaw that keeps everyone locked up at home if they aren't en route from one place to another (by car)? I see no evidence of Life (or should I say Lifestyle?). The last time I was in Milton Keynes was the day before the 2005 General Election. I kid you not, there wasn't a single election poster anywhere. No fliers, no posters, no campaign leaflets. Nothing. Maybe I have this wrong, but I can't imagine that even in so-called safe seats, MPs do nothing for their election campaigns. The lack of 'history' couldn't be more obvious if the place was called Newville. It's not just weird. It's wrong.

While I'm on a rant....Milton Keynes is flat. As a pancake. Perfect lazy (or fast) cycling country. But the whole place is littered with signs saying "No Cycling"!! The Green Party have clearly shot right past Milton Keynes on the M1......

The view of Willen Lake from my hotel. Maybe Milton Keynes is a haven of peace and tranquillity....

Nothumberland Jungle

Continuing our exploration of various corners of Northumberland, today Diff and I went to Raven's Crag. It was one of those that I hadn't even noticed in the guidebook until very recently, but on closer reading looked very promising. It's only a stone's throw from Bowden Doors, an ideal place to sneak away to if Bowden is busy or if you just fancy a bit of space to yourself.

Raven's Crag

We went armed with my new bouldering mat (which looked very shiny and a bit out of place at the crag) and a stash of food, intending to check out some new problems, test the mat's suitability for use as a comfortable chill out mat, and do a taste-test comparison of Sainsbury's Jaffa Cakes with McVities originals. As far as those goals are concerned, our day was very successful.

Gav in the office with my new mat. Amazing how much hilarity it caused.

Raven's Crag is so close to Bowden and yet appears to be little known, and little climbed judging by the vast quantities of small, slow-growing flora attached to the rock. There is oodles of rock there. It's as long as Bowden, and with (very almost) as much to climb. The only thing to add is that the grades are slightly easier than Bowden; there appear to be fewer very hard problems, but lots of challenging things in low to mid grades.

Our first problem, on the Pinnacle, freaked us a bit because it was so green. But we managed it...somehow! The relief in Diff's voice when the words "Ah, jugs!" floated down was heartfelt! We then moved further up and along to discover possibly the sandiest wall in the whole of Northumberland. It looked as though it might have been climbed too much, but it would have taken a highly systematic, military operation by an army of climbers to wear the skin of the sandstone away in such an even fashion to expose the sandy beach-ness underneath. We reasoned this wasn't the work of over-zealous climbers but rather of an over-zealous wind.

We continued our jungle adventure to an overhanging traverse with some very sharp holds on it, and a scary-monster-hidey-hole pocket at the finish. I think that went at about 5c. First time all through, I fell off the last move because the monster in the pocket bit me. That's my excuse, anyway.

Moving from here to the Meadow Wall area was a battle. Ray Mears would have been impressed (or not!) with our bushwhacking techniques. Given that we were lacking an essential piece of kit (a machete) I think we managed very well to get there, climb and get out alive. Goodness only know what was hiding under all that bracken. We could easily have been eaten by monsters or rabbits. (For those who don't know, the monsters hide in the little pockety holes in the rock, and come out to eat you when you put your little pixie fingers in there to climb a problem. Lank versus Pixie? On balance I think the Pixie has a greater number of hazards to negotiate...but then, being a Pixie, I would say that!)

Exporing the Northumberland Jungle

Eventually we found an area which was mercifully bracken free (relatively speaking) so having climbed some pretty highball problems with exciting slopey topouts, we opted to do the Jaffa Cake taste test here. We have concluded that in the overall rankings, Spar Jaffa Cakes are superior to both Sainsbury's (which came second) and McVities (which took last place).

Tasting jaffa cakes is a serious business...

This was a lovely spot, very secluded and with lots to climb.

My camera is very slow to react, which is why I missed the really good picture of Diff on this highball problem with a slopey topout. He moved. But I guess that's what climbers do!

The guidebook was a bit confusing, so we muddled through some of the problems next to each other, and did them Our Way. It was much easier to not worry about what the book said. Why do things by the book, anyway? There were lots of tenuous and sketchy moves off slopers very high up, and some pretty good dismounts (well, we needed to test the mat out properly. We can confirm it does the job very nicely.) There was a lovely slab, and an easy problem with some fantastic jugs at the top right where we wanted them. I also almost got my come-uppance when cockily I decided I could climbg a jamming crack graded "5a more difficult than it looks" (Dead Tree Crack, maybe?). Yeah, that looks ok, I thought. Uh-uhhh.... having reached the big ledge half way up and jammed half my body into the upper half of the crack, I thought I might stay there for a while since it was more comfortable than trying to move out of the crack. I felt pretty stupid for being so cocky. Pride comes before a fall.... fortunately, I didn't fall. I escaped left and did the topout to the 5c problem next to it!

Sketchy slab, but lots of fun

Scary topout photo...after the slab

Raven's Crag is definitely a good place to return to. It's a superb venue for a fun day's climbing; although the grades aren't high, the problems aren't all as straightforward as the grades might suggest. It is evidently an under-visited crag, but I can't see why. It's lovely. A Friday Crag maybe.