Sep 25 2008
Wolf among Wolves
Climbing is usually a rather solitary game. The successes are often encompassed by the silence of the forest, or the background hum of a road. The success on a boulder problem does not usually change the sound you can hear, especially for me because I often climb alone (along with leopards). It is normally a piercing scream raised from your own lungs that sends waves throughout the space around you, until they run out of energy, or simply get tired of existing. Who would want screams of joy to last forever and ever? Today was different though. I didn’t hear my own scream. It was much better than that.
I’d wanted to go to Ina’s rock yesterday but lacked anyone to go with, and gave up a solo mission because I decided I was only being foolish trying to do Cornelius with 2 pads and no spotter. It would have been possible, but it would have been a foolish undertaking when I could wait a day and go with Adam and Ben. This morning I woke up without giving my body the 9 hours it had asked for, then asked it to give me what I wanted. I usually operate sub par after a lack of sleep but I couldn’t use that as a sorry excuse for failure or absence so I shot off to the crag to meet the subdued duo. Perhaps the most excited beast was Klem, and he’s a terrier.
Things were looking on the approach as the whole place was looking much drier, and I was hoping this would translate into good conditions on the rock. Unfortunately it wasn’t the case. Warming up on the easy routes on the right hand side felt tricky and the holds felt soapy. But this was a weak excuse and couldn’t be used with any validity until someone had ripped violently off a hold. I wandered who was going to be first! Bransby was being led by Adam, and climbing everything with a rather casual attitude that made me smile. No drama, no over the top screams, nothing but calm, cool headed climbing. It would have been almost soporific if it wasn’t for the fact that I knew the ground he was covering, and also how amazed I was when he invented sequences that looked genuinely foolish, but worked with much aplomb! The guy knows how to climb. Very well. Neither Adam nor I had given Ben any beta for Thumbelina as the plan was for Ben to onsight it. He did. Very casually. He used a completely different sequence for the crux which looked to be a good solution, but not as fun as the way we did it. He then proceeded to casually walk down to the left, where previously Adam had sketched his way wildly down. Turned out Adam has tried to hand traverse a ledge than Ben decided he could just walk along, and oh how we laughed when we all walked along with ease.
Attention turned to the main meat, Cornelius. As it stood, I hadn’t done the move to the break, but I was sure that if I should do that move, all would be over. Ben and Adam weren’t so sure, but I had faith in my ignorance. Ben had his onsight go and used a genuinely bizarre sequence to get him up to the jug at half height. I was absolutely amazed at every move he did. From what looked like an irrecoverable position, he would somehow pop out of it and into the next move. Once at the jug he had a good long shake out in preparation for the next few moves. Unfortunately, he reached up to the crimp with his left hand, reached back down, and jumped off. As I’ve said previously, the crimp is disappointingly small (relatively speaking to the rest of the jugs on route). Now it was my turn. I knew 100% in my mind that I was capable of doing this thing today, but I wasn’t so sure about translating that meta image to reality. My skin was already rolling off and so I knew I would only have a few goes before my skin would be too soft to pull on the crux crimp. I had two goes, both times attempting to reach up the break, and getting the height, but being too far right and then reversing and jumping off. The rockover move is a strange one, and I’m notoriously bad at turning roofs like this because my hips are so inflexible, so my trailing leg always gets stuck under the roof and I normally overcompensate by pulling harder. Unfortunately that wasn’t an option on this, and I needed to refine my movement. Ben had his second go and using a slightly refined sequence bimbled his way to the jug. After a quick appraisal of the move, he rocked over, grabbed the very edge of the sloper in the break, then gently worked his fingers more leftwards and more onto the hold! As soon as he had it I was sure it was done, but I still scrambled around moving the pads to the other side of the stump. By the time I’d done this (which in my mind was at the speed of light), I looked up to find him at the top! CRUSHED! After returning to the ground victorious, Ben said that it was pretty much over when you do that one long move to the break. Not completely over, but pretty much over. If there was one thing I’d learned very fast is that Ben is not a good beta hound, and when he says it’s practically over, it’s an accurate assesment for his own level. I was still pretty headstrong in that I thought I’d be alright if/when I got there.
I was really happy that Ben had done it. I didn’t have any envy, or any bitterness that he’d done it before me. The challenge still remains, and it always does remain, because the challenge is with the rock. That’s what we all do. We challenge ourselves against the rock, and irregardless if 5 people do it before you or 20, the challenge it presents to you is still the same. I hadn’t lost any motivation to crush it, and in fact I was spurred on by the good vibes floating around base camp. I booted up and set up, grabbed the crimp, pulled hard, rocked over, felt the lip of the sloper underneath my fingertips but then all of a sudden my left thigh cramped up. I couldn’t do anything but retreat and I said goodbye to the hold and moved back down to jump off (in pain). I was a bit miffed because I was SO close, but more concerned about stretching my leg. I didn’t want the same thing to happen on my next go. I guess it cramped because as I was rocking over I was pressing my leg upwards into the roof and obviously contracting the muscle very hard (who knows why). [here is a pic of the point where my leg cramped]

I took my time to stretch it as best I could, then made the critical decision of changing into a vest. Not just any vest, but an 80’s Adidas Power vest (courtesy of Tom Mills). It’s pretty hilarious and you have to see it in real life to appreciate just how fly (read; ridiculous) it really is. I squeeked my boots, chalked up a thousand times, and was getting ready to set off again when I heard the chatter of children. I assumed that maybe it was coming from Alton Towers, but within a minute or two it was getting louder and it was obviously a school class or some outing of kids. They saw the three of us stood there and their chaperones stopped, looking on as if they were preparing to cross a lion cage. Turns out all they wanted to do was come and sit in the cave so their teacher could talk to them about King Ina and great battles that took place in the Churnet. I’d always thought it a rather tranquil place. [the kids]

I wasn’t sure what to do, because I was psyched to have a go, I’d prepared myself, but there was now a throng of children and chaperones. Once they were sat down, quietened down, and listening to their teacher I decided to set off. Why not give them a bit of a show? That notion soon wore off as I reached the jug. Where previously I could hear everything anyone was saying, suddenly my ears closed off, my mind sharpened, and I entered what can only be described as the zone. I pulled as hard as I dared on the crimp, rocked over as far as I dared, and just touched the sloper in the break. I was a bit too commited to reverse the move now but that thought was far removed from my mind anyway. I just kept pulling down with my left hand, wriggling my fingers towards the better bit of the hold. It was getting better, but not much better. Certainly not enough to suddenly feel comfortable. I had 3 fingers on something semi decent, and I had no choice but to press on. All my thoughts were focused on reaching the next hold, nothing else was in my mind. I reached up and found something good for my left hand, moved my foot into the jug, and knew I was good to go now. I had to do a bit of a reshuffle, but I sketched my way to the top. I was sorry that it looked sketchy because I know it’s always worrying for the people you are with, and that’s not nice. As sketchy as it may have appeared I knew that I was in control and I was not going to fall off, so my mind was calm, but clearly my body was doing it’s own thing. I manteled on to the top, turned around, and BOOM! Beneath the route were 20+ kids, several chaperones, and then a burst of applause. It was really very amusing, but a refreshing change from the norm. Obviously the very first they asked was “how are you going to get down?”. How sensible. [a picture of the power vest and the crux move being completed]

The funny thing was that I had no recollection of hearing them move from being sat under the cave to being 20 feet away and stood watching me climb. I don’t know when that took place either. That’s the joy of climbing/bouldering and of highballing in my opinion. You go into the zone. I guess that’s a similar joy that I’ve experienced doing certain grit routes but also experienced doing certain boulder problems. I like that you are so enraptured in the moves that you forget about anything else. There is no room for thinking about your work/uni/family/relationship problems. There is nothing but maximum concentration on the moves. Almost a detachment from all other reality. I like that.
I suppose there is the issue of grade, because people seem more interested in discussing grades than going out and trying these great climbs themselves. I think Cornelius is a 7C highball. This is only my opinion and everyone else is free to have a different one, but this is what describes this piece of climbing most accurately to me. That’s the important bit. It is accurate for me. I’m a boulderer, not a trad climber. Therefore a highball boulder grade makes more sense to me than a route grade. I’ve decided it is a case of tomaydo/tomato. I’m a Wolf.
[all photos copyright Adam Long]








