English man in Font

The past several days have been spent divided evenly between climbing and resting. The weather has also taken a change and we’ve seen the arrival of colder temps, some snow, some rain, and some more strong climbers.

The passage of time has not been kind and I have no success to report. I’ve been back to try Amber again and, even though I was so sure I would do it, I didn’t manage to get to the top. Even though it was very cold up in Brione, the previous days rain was cause for high levels of humidity. Normally I wouldn’t even consider making such an excuse, but I bumped into Christian Core up there, who had a little gizmo that told him such information and he declared it too humid to be premium. Transpires that it hadn’t effected his performance too much as he’d done Amber only an hour or two beforehand! That’s the difference between world class and town class. During my short session I managed to split a tip on the start hold which only added injury to insult. I don’t feel too dejected about it because I know it will get done at some point, but I’m also very careful not to become complacent about it. It’s hard for me, and I’ll need to go there with good skin and try very hard, probably resulting in me topping out and then saying something like “that’s not even that hard”. I was up in Brione on my own, which gave my thoughts some time to be vocalised (without appearing nuts) and one of the things I was wondering about was why it takes a certain length of time to do a certain boulder problem or route. Why do some people do things quickly and some not? Obviously basic climbing ability comes into it. An 8C climber will do an 8A much faster than an 8A climber, ceteris paribus. But what else makes the difference? Why, given two climbers of very similar abilities, does one of them do a problem in 1 session and the other in 5 sessions? I broke it down to the following; Ability to execute, ability to perform at a high enough level at will, mental resolve, and the triple D’s. My main question was why I was falling off Amber when I knew I could do the moves, I knew I could link the moves, but I wasn’t able to actually go from the bottom to the top. My failure came because the climbing is hard for me, and if I don’t hit a hold in the right way I either have very little time to adjust or I simply can’t adjust. Perhaps I just wasn’t precise enough in my execution of the moves. I’m not really sure. I’ve also realised that the compact nature of Amber has pulled one over on me. Smaller doesn’t mean less moves in this case! Vecchia Leone is 5/6 moves until you’re at a hold from which you will not fall off whereas Amber is 9/10 moves including a difficult foot move in the middle. I was shocked when I realised this but it could be related to why I’m falling off… ie. My ability to link more than 4/5 moves is pathetic. It’s definitely time to build a bigger board at home! The bottom line is that the moves aren’t particularly hard, but the link is hard, and I think this is generally true for my climbing. Amusingly, I went up with Ty one day and he was shocked that I was falling off where I was falling off. He had said that he thought the cutloose move and the second slap were the hardest moves (in his opinion), and I was getting through those moves nearly every go! The only move that I’ve ever found really hard on its own is the crux of Radja and the single move of Dune. It’s good to realise why you fail, but another thing to implement change so as to eradicate this path of failure from your future. The only thing I can do now is go climbing as much as possible and keep trying Amber.

I spent a day up at Cresciano with Tyler and watched as he completed a long time dream of climbing La Prou. It’s an amazing boulder and I hope to one day to follow him (and Malc) up it. I had a quick go and realised I can get my foot on the foothold which is positive, and I think it’s in my style so perhaps I’ll spend some time with it. The only downside is that it really hurts my ass trying it because I have to flick my leg up onto the foothold and this really takes it out of the muscles in my derriere. Whilst in that area we also had a go on Confessions, 8B+, which is the amazing looking overhanging arête on the bloc to the left of la prou/mythril. It’s a stunning line and I was interested to have a go in order to assess how difficult it is. This is a perfect example of a grade being an indicator rather than a definition. Basically, it’s only one hard move and that move probably isn’t very hard if you have flexible/open hips. Unfortunately, I don’t. In fact, I’m quite the opposite. Without the ability to put on the left heelhook for the crux move, it seemed unlikely that it would be possible, but the hold you are reaching to with your left hand is fairly good so I was sure there would be another way. After trying a few different body positions and ideas I eventually found a way that I think is possible and results in a cool but hard move. I simply used a tiny undercut to pull in with my toe which gives just enough grip to enable me to jump to the left hand hold and then you have to hold a fun swing in a narrow compression position. I didn’t quite manage the move but I’m sure it will work. The rest of the moves are steady and if I can do that move I’m confident I can do the problem. However, I don’t know if I will put much time into it this trip. In fact, it seems like time is running out! I may have to leave around December 10^th which only gives me a couple of weeks to do what I want to do, which is not very long when I’m superpunting everything. It’s also arbitrarily hard for me, which is annoying. If I could open up my hips I think it would be MUCH easier, but my method doesn’t even seem that hard, which leads me to (probably very naively) conclude that it isn’t 8B+. It’s not super important to me what the grade is, but now that I’ve tried it I’m confident I could do it which is good to know. However, I’m willing to concede that being able to do something (ie. Potential) and actually getting off the sofa and getting it done are two hugely different things, as I’ve seen with Amber. Something that I could have done in a session has spiralled into 4 sessions already! SUPERPUNTI!

Another thing I’ve come to realise is just how weak I am at shouldery moves. I have no shouldery moves on my board and after trying Radja my shoulders were in pain for about 10 days. The same pain reoccurred after a very brief session (20 mins) on Vecchia Leone. It stayed with me for 3 days, during which I was stretching and massaging it as much as I could. I don’t know why the outside of my shoulders is quite so weak but it’s not good, and I know that I can’t try Vecchia on consecutive days. If anything, I need many days rest in between trying it. I think I may leave it until the end of the trip and then hope I can do it quickly. Once I do Amber I’ve got my next project lined up, and once that gets done then perhaps I’ll move on to Vecchia.

I’m having a couple of days on the down low now with no climbing as I can feel the beginnings of a cold setting in and I want rid of it before I thrust all my energy into a boulder problem. Trying to climb something that is hard for me whilst not feeling anywhere near 100% would be foolish so 48 hours of hardcore rest, tea, soup, and very hot fires should see me right.

Radja (Picture courtesy of Fred Moix Photography)

Powerstrips, Chironico

Conquistador, Chironico

La Pelle Left, Cresciano

Reve de Mario, Cresciano

Amber, Brione

Amber, Brione

ps. If the internet starts working at the house again I’ll update more frequently and also fix this text size issue that seems to have just reoccured.

It’s been rather silent on the blog front and for this I apologise. Living in a small house with 7 people doesn’t leave much time to sit back, collect my thoughts, and pen it down in exquisite prose. I guess I’ve also been lazy. Not much has been going down.

I spent a session trying Boogalagga, 8B, with Ty. He managed to do all the moves and then executed it from bottom to top. It was quite impressive actually. Once he knew he could do the moves he knew he could do the problem. That’s no different from me, you, or anyone else. But the difference came when he took that knowledge and smashed through any psychological barriers to reach the top. That was something that came as a revelation to me. I usually do the moves, then spend more sessions trying the individual moves, making absolutely sure I can do them in isolation to the point where they feel easy and then I embark on the send. This means I take ages to do anything. Seeing Ty go into crush mode and send Boogalagga reminded me of Toby Benham. He was the same and that was why he did so many “hard” grit routes. He would work the moves on a top rope, know he could do them, and then simply go for it. He had no barriers in his mind and thus no barriers in his climbing. Toby was someone who I thought climbed exceptionally close to his potential, and I have a lot of respect for that as I think that is what makes someone a good rock climber. I took inspiration from this revelation and decided to try and put it into practice. Unfortunately it didn’t work out with Boogalagga as the first move is quite hard and I didn’t manage to do it. I put it down to thin skin though, as I wasn’t even planning on climbing but was easily coaxed by such an attractive and hard problem. I’ll certainly be going back to do it and I think I can do it which is promising. I was rather worried that it would be too hard but I don’t think it’s impossible for me. I think it’s something that might take some work but it’s certainly worth the effort as it’s a hard and proud line.

In between sessions of rock climbing we’ve been playing a lot of ping pong and the level has been increasing. I might even post up a video of the greatest shots but now that I’m writing such a thing I think it’s verging on ridiculous, so don’t hold your breath. Needless to say, we’re punters of the pong world, probably somewhere around the V5 level but we’re improving day by day. I think by the end of this trip we might reach V7 or V8 but I really don’t know. Si is probably somewhere around that level at the moment and destroy is an understatement when I’ve played him. It’s been brutal. I doubt I’ll beat him by the end of the holiday but it’s a good goal to have, and it’s great to have a good player around to learn from.

I’ve also spent a day up at Brione. Vecchia Leone was a big goal for this trip and today I had the opportunity to try it, but for some reason I didn’t take it. Tyler had shown me another 8B called Amber which, although petite, was on amazing rock and had some absolutely gorgeous holds. It’s a Dave Graham problem (the man has been everywhere and done everything) and features no small holds, only bad holds and great compression moves. So whilst Si and Sander went to try Vecchia I opted out and went to try Amber on my own. I’ve been thinking about the reasons for my rebuttal of Vecchia, and I think it might come down to the fact that I want it too much. I think maybe I need to let go of wanting it so much and just go there to climb it. Perhaps those two things are the same but perhaps not. I am fairly certain that I am able to climb Vecchia so at some point I’m going to relax my desire and go there to try and do it. No pressure. Before I walked down to Amber, Doylo asked me what my goal was. He asked if I just wanted to do all the moves and I replied that I wanted to do better than that. I was being slightly facetious because I would be happy to do the moves but perhaps not happy enough. I set off on my own, feet trampling the fallen leaves, with my thoughts focused on my expectations of the next hour or two. What did I really expect? What did I really want? I just wanted to feel like I was climbing well, like I was climbing close to my potential ability. That would leave me happy, even if I didn’t manage to do any moves! I arrived, felt happy to be there, admired the sunshine on the snowy mountaintops, unfurled my pad, and set about work. I cleaned the holds and set up for my flash go. It’s always worth a go… needless to say I didn’t do it. In fact, I fell on the first move. Undeterred (obviously) I set about working the moves. The first move was tricky and I had a few goes but didn’t manage it. I then moved on to the second and had success. Then the third, then the fourth, then the fifth, until I got to a long move off a gorgeous sloper. I failed on it about 20 times and wasn’t sure why. My foot was slipping off a huge hold and I wasn’t reaching the hold. My foot wasn’t pulling me in enough. It was a classic case of a foot needing to be used as a hand and I was flailing. I changed shoes from Dragons to V10’s (old style)… and boom. I did the move. Thinking it was only a psychological boost and in reality I’d done the move because I’d tried it 21 times, I tried again in my V10 and did it again. Had I simply got the measure of the move? Perhaps. Whatever the reason, I didn’t fall off that move again (nor did I change out of my V10). I did the last couple of moves which feature a blind slap as the penultimate move and then decided I should go into crush mode. I could do the moves and so I could do the problem. It’s just a matter of execution. I fell a few times on the starting move which is a tricky move into a backhand, but then I managed to latch it and was on. Not for long. A foot slip saw me on the pad again. Damn it. This wasn’t the crush mode I had envisaged. Still undeterred (always undeterred!) I tried again and did the first move, then the second, then the third. The third move is a very cool cutloose move where you have to jump your foot onto a high foothold. I wasn’t strong enough to take the swing so what I had to do was hit the foothold whilst my body was still on the outswing, so my foot was pushing me up into the handholds as I reached the zenith of my swing. It’s a joyous move. I made it through that move and was on the upper moves. I felt alright, but was perhaps a bit nervous and I certainly wasn’t climbing it as smoothly as I’d done the individual moves, which resulted in me falling at the long move from a sloper. Damn it. I felt like it might have been possible but I was on the pad once again. My feeling wasn’t wrong though as I was definitely capable of doing this problem and that go had confirmed it. I had some more goes and made it to the slopers a few times but my right hand or left hand would slip off unexpectedly. My skin wasn’t getting any better and so I faced the choice of going all out and trying to do it this session or being wise and saving my skin, safe in the knowledge that I’d put in a good session. I battled my ego which wanted to keep going in the hope that I could do it in a session, which would be a huge achievement for me, but in the end my rationale won and I took my boots off. Amber is a great problem and I’m keen to go back and do it. I’m sure that I will do it. In fact, I’m certain. I think it’s likely I’ll do it in another session, but if not, I’m sure that I’ll do it before leaving. I walked down to the car as the night closed in and I was feeling good. I’d gotten what I’d wanted from the session. I’d climbed well and in reality I’d exceeded my expectations, but as always the goalposts got moved when I realised they were getting too close.

Now it’s raining again and I’m resting. On my mind is the question of how long I shall remain out here and what I really want to do. So far my ticklist isn’t long, only containing 3 problems, but depending on my form it may extend to 4 problems. Doing 3 of them would be amazing for me and doing 4 would be incredible. The future path is unknown but if I can climb well, rest well, eat well, and keep enjoying my rock climbing then I think anything is possible.

ps. Apologies is the text size/font has gone funny. I don’t know what happened and I’m in no position to fix it at the moment.

The rain came and it poured over the Rhone valley, day after day. Eventually I ran out of days and the final morning we awoke to see blue skies. Was I being gifted a final chance, a possibility to go and achieve my goal at the last possible moment? My shoulders were sore even though I’d spent the previous 3 days stretching and chilling out watching movies, but if good weather was out there I would soon forget that and go all out. Upon arrival at Branson things looks promising but close inspection of the holds revealed some wet holds. One of the crucial holds was wet at the back and the sit start holds were also wet but I wasn’t yet ended. I tried to dry the important hold off so I could at least try the crux sequence a bit. Whilst cleaning it I kept touching it to assess its dryness and then I suddenly touched upon something I may once have known but certainly didn’t have it at the accessible part of my memory. Suddenly my fingers slotted in to a part of the hold that felt slightly better than all of the rest. My ring finger was gripping on something that I hadn’t experienced before, but it felt better. I wasn’t sure if I was just going crazy so I dried it off as best as I could and warmed up while it dried a little. The water kept seeping through but a bit of tissue (cave tactics) absorbed some of the moisture. I pulled on and suddenly felt alright in the position. I was reaching up into the undercut far, far, far more comfortably. This new hand position, or perhaps finger placement was changing everything. How could I have spent 2 sessions on this only a few days ago and not noticed this obvious beta? I didn’t know if I was simply feeling stronger on the day or I really was gripping it differently, but whatever the reason I felt better and it came as a great relief.

I’d arrived in Martigny confident I could do Radja. I spent 2 sessions literally not doing one move on Radja and then 3 days watching movies. I couldn’t understand why I’d arrived confident and then got shut down so hard. My mental state wasn’t great but being down is certainly not being out. The bottom of the well is a sign that says nothing is impossible. Having had this final session and had a sudden progress boost was really good for my mental state. I’d arrived confident, had a dip, but would be leaving confident again. It’s a shame all this confidence exists when I’m not at the boulder problem.

I fled from Martigny, first driving to Bergamo to drop Sara off and then onward to Cresciano to take my place in a house of big numbers. I was arriving at a house where everyone had climbed 8B or above (bar Doylo, 8A+, who is certainly worthy of the honorary 8B club) and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Would it be a melting pot of psyche and power, or a fragmented struggle for recognition? I guess it’s still too early to know for sure, but first signs are really positive. As I wrote in my previous post, I’m sick of the bitching, and so I want to be part of a positive group of people who all want each other to succeed. So far this seems to be the case amongst us.

I’ve only had one day out climbing thus far which was spent up at Brione. The rock up there is second to none and in my opinion is the highest form that granite can achieve. There is no better granite which I have seen or climbed upon and I hold it in equal estimation to the great rock of Fontainebleau. We started off in the meadow as Doylo had his sights firmly set on crushing Molunk, 7C, which he should have done first go, but ended up doing an hour later. I filmed a few of the better set warm up problems and then Brick and I moved over to join the crowd at Molunk. Tyler put his shoes on to show us a slightly different sequence which I was thankful for because everyone else seemed to be using a taller man’s method. Brick and I flashed it using different sequences, Fred ascended it uttering many strange English phrases involving things I can’t repeat, and then Doyle did it for the team. Success! I wanted to film the highball slab called Black Mirror, 6B+, so I quickly nipped down there and did it a couple of times. It’s a very cool looking slab and has only one tricky move which is fall off able. It’s easy though and if you’re in Brione you should enjoy the off vertical walk.

Pics removed for now at request of Fred Moix – back soon!

We moved on to check out the main meat, Vecchia Leone but the wall was saturated. It was a shame because I was well warmed up and felt ready to do battle but mother nature had a different plan. What do you do when you can’t try a 5 star 8B? Simply find another 5 star problem down the road. The beauty of residing in a land that has so much good rock! I took the team down to Limited Edition, 7C+, which I’d seen a year ago but hadn’t tried. I’d been immensely impressed by the double arête/ramp feature and longed to climb it. The first move is an amazing flick/jump and then you bosh up left hand, right hand, left hand until you find yourself at a committing move to the top.

Tyler led the way, committing and then successfully toping out. Perhaps it was the mental boost of seeing success that helped but I managed to drag myself to the top moves, committed, and was toping out.

But then a small hand slip on a dirty hold led to a small foot slip which led to a small hip slip and I was suddenly in a rather uncomfortable position. I wasn’t about to fall off but I was in a tricky spot which my position on the rock being very untenable. I didn’t have much purchase with my hands or my feet and my knee was certainly glued to the rock but in the heart raising moment I reached out and grabbed a branch of a tree that was nearby. I was relieved not to have pitched off backwards over the heads of my spotters into the abyss below, but I was disappointed that I couldn’t get my game together enough to calm myself down and then finish the rock over move without grabbing a branch. I wanted to get footage of the problem from various angles so set the camera up in another position and climbed the low moves again, then moves the camera and climbed the high moves again (after giving the top a good clean). I feel fairly honest in my appraisal that my initial hand slip was due to leaves, pine needles, and dirt rather than me going to jelly because I was topping out. I’m sure I don’t have some topping out disease! With that in the bag and footage looking good we headed home.

The house that big numbers built is looking good for psyche. It’s nice to climb with other people for a change and even better to climb with people who are obviously good rock climbers. Climbing with Tyler is also very useful for me for several reasons. It’s pretty much guaranteed that he will be able to do any move I can do, and so if I’m struggling and he proceeds to crush it, it gives me motivation on many levels. It’s not a case of wanting to compete or trying to keep up, it’s more a case of seeing someone else succeed brings things down from the plane of meta impossible to the very real plane of possible. That takes the mental edge off and then it comes down to executing the moves. Tyler has a good understanding of his movement so when he gives out beta it’s actually useful, rather than something like “pull a bit harder you weak bastard”. I’m hopeful that in the coming weeks I can fulfil my goals and complete my very short ticklist, although I did hear that a very strong climber spent 3 days on Boogalagga without doing it, which is a bit dismaying. I’ll just go and give it my best, every day for many days, and what I’ll have in the end will be good regardless of ascent or not.

[Photos Courtesy of Fred Moix Photography and Tyler Landman Photography]

The rain in font didn’t relent and after 48 hours of constant meteo france/swiss monitoring we decided to chance it by driving south to Martigny. The special warm wind called Foehn had been predicted and local Fred Moix told me that good conditions would be in store. We arrived a little too late on Friday evening so I missed an opportunity to climb in perfect conditions. Upon arrival at Branson it was cool, the wind was warm, but unfortunately it was far too dark. I was still optimistic for the weekend ahead.

We managed to get the key of a local climbing wall and spent the night there which was definitely more comfortable than either the car or the bouldering pads. Saturday morning was spent trying to find an open shop because (obviously) November 1^st is some national holiday (All Saints day – not the band, I don’t think), but eventually we settled somewhere to drink coffee and munch pain au chocolat. Early afternoon we headed to the crag but temps were still a little warm. It was about 13C which was nice for sitting in the sun and getting nourished by free radicals, but not great for crushing. The wind wasn’t blowing all that much but driven by psych I warmed up. After far too short a warm up I decided to get involved in the main meat, the reason I’d driven nearly 6 hours south, Radja. I last tried it with Danny and Sam in August and I’d felt surprisingly good on it. I’d made good progress, good enough to think that I could probably get it done with another visit. Perhaps that confidence was proving to be a thorn in my side, but I spent an hour failing to do a single move. I couldn’t remember the subtle body positions, or rather I thought I could remember them but my body didn’t seem to be in them. I felt a million miles away from doing the crux moves. I was a bit disheartened and to make matter worse after about 45 mins I put a hole in my tip. But not the usual tip. For perhaps the first time ever I had ripped a chunk of skin off my right thumb! This goes to show how much you have to use your thumbs on this problem. I taped over it and persisted, trying to find that subtle position that clicks and enables you to enter the next phase, which is finding enough power to actually do the moves. By the end of the session I’d somewhat remembered that you need to get your body much higher, pushing with your left hand into your right shoulder, then twisting your hips slightly inwards so you can reach up to the undercut. My very last goes saw me finally reaching into the undercut but by this point my shoulders were aching, and all this after about 1h20m of goes. I was done. The problem is too hard for me to try much more than that. The evening was spent eating Pizza and sitting in a bar listening to the locals talk about various boulder problems and boulderers (all in French). I understood enough to know that no matter where you go climbers talk about the same things, which problems are really harder than the other and why certain climbers are crushers! All pretty funny…

Radja is a complicated beast. My hardcore failure left me with some time to reflect about why this had happened. I thought about why I was having such a dismal time and simultaneously thought about how Tyler and Graham had both crushed it in a session. I think that Radja requires a pre-requisite amount of basic strength/power. You either have it or you don’t have it. If you think that Graham is a skinny waif without power/strength then you are sorely mistaken. If you don’t have this level of strength you simply won’t be able to do the moves. If your shoulder isn’t stable enough, or your back not powerful enough, you will only fail. You can’t find a way around it, you simply need a certain level of power. Essentially it’s quite a basic problem, even though all the locals will tell you it’s hugely subtle, and point to which grain of the rock you need to put a certain part of your toe on, or draw an arc in 3D space through which your hips must travel if you want to do the move. But all these things are ancillary; you must first have the strength/power to execute. No amount of technique or trickery will help if you don’t have the power. I think it’s something like needing a power level of 73 (on some undetermined scale). If you have 70 then you might just be able to do the moves if you find the absolute perfect technique, but to execute this on the link becomes unlikely. If you have 73 then you will have to use good technique to actually send the problem. If you have 80 or 90 then you can overpower the beast and crush it quickly. But this level of power is certainly world class and not many people have it so mere mortals like myself need to train to reach a power level of 75 and then make a concerted effort to climb with excellent technique.

Sunday we awoke in the climbing wall to feel a rather warm breeze and upon walking out of the door we were greeted by a lovely summer’s day. Whilst lovely if you are on holiday in Tuscany, it’s not so lovely when you’re trying to climb at your limit. It was even warmer than Saturday, with the car registering 15C in the morning and going on to 20C at lunchtime. I decided to learn from yesterdays lessons and not start climbing until about 5pm so I would get the best of the conditions. I arrived at the crag with Fred and he pointed to a particular car asking if I knew who it was to which I replied with a somewhat obvious no. He said it was Bernd Zangerl and obviously I was immediately excited by the prospect of meeting a beast but also seeing him try Radja. We went down, said hello, and decided that conditions weren’t good so we’d wait for it to go dark and then do a lantern session. Great! A lantern session on Radja with Zangerl!  I don’t get star struck, but I have a lot of respect for these top climbers because I think I have an understanding of the hard work it takes to get there. I respect that, a lot. Bernd had come alone, driving 6 hours to come and try Radja, and I respect that dedication. However, the lantern session wasn’t all that was taking place as another local, Pedro, was sat under the block playing a didgeridoo! It was a nice scene actually, with the soothing, rhythmic pace of the didgeridoo acting as a perfect accompaniment. As darkness descended I warmed up trying to actually get my shoulders and back properly warmed up this time and didn’t feel too bad. I was sore from Saturday but I felt in better shape, and walking down to Radja I thought (once again) that I had a good chance. My first goes felt much better than my best goes on Saturday. My body position was immediately better  and I reached up into the undercut with much more ease. I put three fingers in the undercut, rolled my wrist upwards to get the thumb catch, and just as I started to move up I greased off. Damn it. Even worse was that I now had a matching hole in my left thumb. It wasn’t bleeding but it was down to the final layer of skin and so I had no choice but to tape it up. I had tape on both thumbs and, for a problem that requires a lot of thumb action, this wasn’t ideal. In fact, my goes went rapidly downhill from there. Bernd had a try and made it up into the undercut and looked very strong, but something didn’t quite go as it should and he slipped off. Conditions weren’t good but he was crushing. I also realised that he was doing it with a different left foot hold and he explained that it was perhaps slightly harder but by utilising it your left foot was much less likely to slip off. Obviously I wanted to have a go using it and it didn’t take much of an effort to realise quite how much harder it was. Essentially he was using a smear and he was able to do so because he is way, way, way stronger than me. He could hold the shoulder position far more comfortably, and furthermore he was only using 3 fingers on the undercut, taking it as an open handed hold. I don’t want to sound like I’m bumming him, but I am. The guy is very strong and it was inspiring to see. His skin was sacking it and so he taped up for one more go but that didn’t help things and he stepped off. Chances are his skin will be better on Monday, conditions will be better on Monday, and I have no doubt he’ll crush it. As for me, I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I have a hole in each thumb and my back/shoulders are sore. I’m taking a rest day today, hoping that the rain will stay away and I’ll be back there trying it again tomorrow. If it doesn’t happen in the next few days I’ll just have to come back again. But I’m not thinking about that yet, I’m thinking only about trying to succeed.

The more I travel the more I meet people and the more I hear about bitchiness, about people who don’t like certain other people. There are a variety of reasons for why people don’t like other people, and it’s a fact of life that not everyone is going to get on really well with everyone else, but in climbing people really seem to take a dislike to one another. Perhaps it’s because they are all so passionate about rock climbing and this is what they have disagreements about, but I think it’s a bad way to be. In my mind, it would be better if everyone could act as a positive support for everyone else and encourage them to improve, adapt, and push things forward. That probably sounds far too idealistic but I’m sure things could be more like that than they currently are. The one theme that unites all the top climbers I meet is their love for rock climbing. They just want to go out and climb. They don’t really care about 8a.nu, internet chat, magazine reports or chatting BS about climbing, they just love rock climbing. They couldn’t care less if they never reported anything else they did or if no one knew what they had climbed, because they really only do it for themselves. I’m sure there are exceptions to this, but for the most part people choose this lifestyle because it’s what they love. I also think the general public are too quick to judge the achievements of the top guys without really knowing or understanding anything about them. This is also a great shame because I’m sure if people were to know these guys personally they would have a completely different opinion.  I’m not guilt free, I realise that I’ve been part of this in the past, but it’s something I realised was a bad mistake and have tried to learn from the mistake. I’m not judging anyone or trying to make moral statements about anyone’s opinion. I just want to encourage everyone, avoid slagging people off, try to remain positive and continue to love rock climbing. I hope that everyone else can do the same because loving rock climbing is the glue that binds us all together.