Bold star classic climbing at Burbage

A grey blanket laid overhead. The odd spec of blue shone through the weave of clouds, varying in hue from charcoal to off-white, but thick and foreboding. The day didn't look as though it was going to be good for climbing, so I took my time getting set up this morning. A slow breakfast and a slow return from the land known as Nod. 


When I was finally ready, I decided on a stroll down to The Foundry, the legendary climbing centre, renowned for being the first in the UK and for having roots with the equally legendary Jerry Moffatt, among many other 80s strongmen. The stroll was partially to buy a new pair of rock shoes and partially to check the weather. I didn't intend to climb there, so I didn't take any of my gear with me. However, it was spitting outside - to quote Peter Kay. But the day before I had 40 minutes climbing on the gritstone at Curbar in the spitting rain and the friction was actually fantastic, so I decided to take the risk. Worst comes to the worst and I can retreat back to Sheffield and climb at The Climbing Works.

I chose Burbage South Edge for the little excursion. I really wanted to send a classic problem called 7 Ball. It gets a bold star in the guidebook - the highest accolade bestowed by 'Peak District Bouldering' - and it was well within my limit, so it had to be done. It had been a few weeks since I touched grit, so I didn't want to blast out and get on something really hard, so 7 Ball seemed ideal.


After the short walk in, I warmed up on some easy traverses, slabs and walls - some not in the guide at all, just blocks that are strewn across the side of the hill. The mild pump that, when dissipated, leaves your arms feeling refreshed and strong on subsequent problems came and went. I was ready to give 7 Ball a blast. I worked my way along the edge, over the plethora of blocks and under the low lying branches, and finally stood beneath the boulder problem. The rain came and went, but it was soft, a few drops and didn't provide much issue.


7 Ball is a low ball, that's for sure. But it's a good low ball. I was hoping it wouldn't take long but I was there 30 minutes trying to work it out before another climber joined me and flashed it. However, I found out afterwards it wasn't a flash but a retro-flash, as he had done it before. But the ascent gave me the beta ideas that I needed. Or so I thought. Another 30 minutes later and I was still battling away, having done the problem in two sections but failing to link it together. None of the moves felt especially hard - the crux being a slight throw from a side-pull sloper to a large-ish pinch about a foot higher, while your body lays horizontally along the underside of the block. Where I was slipping up, however, was just after you catch the good pinch, as you slap out to an arete and then wrap your legs around the same edge and squeeze hard. I hadn't got the hand sequence right and I kept falling here... repeatedly. 


A few friends then turned up out of nowhere. I wasn't expecting to see anyone: they just so happened to come to the same area I was climbing in. Two of them decided to join me on 7 Ball and we began working the moves together. I demonstrated where I was getting to - and subsequently fell off again. And then the two of them had a go. Both are much smaller than me so had to work out some alternative beta. But their hand-sequence for the first few moves was better than mine, cutting out two little shuffles which sap precious energy and add dreaded lactic. So, after another 15-20 minutes and three goes more with the audience of two, I finally managed to link the problem together, with the altered beta. It didn't feel especially difficult and I think it warrants the grade - I just made a complete arse of working it out. Never mind - onwards and upwards (pun intended). I actually thoroughly enjoyed the send - and it felt especially satisfying having worked the problem for so long. So all's well that ends well.

Burbage Valley (taken during Summer 2012)

Next, I decided to tag along with the two, and we went to find the rest of the group. We thought they were doing battle with a problem called Electrical Storm so headed there first. The adrenaline of the first send sparked an interest in doing something harder and I was keen to give the Storm a go. But when we arrived, the wall was bare of climbers. I had a feel of the holds and they were damp and slimy. I can see why they moved on. A slight stroll further along and we found them stood under Attitude Inspector - another bold star classic.


I watched a few tries from a couple of different climbers - one tall and rangy, who struggled to use a large undercut effectively, and another short and light, who looked comfortable but the dyno from the undercut seemed a long way for him. Despite the fact that I had only wanted to do 7 Ball today and was in desperate need of some lunch, I decided to pull on my shoes and have a go at Attitude Inspector. It apparently gets two grades harder than 7 Ball but my first try wasn't far off (in hindsight, I wish I'd flashed it), my second go was closer still, my third I jumped too far and hit about 6 inches higher than the jug you dyno to, and my fourth try I latched it, matched and hopped off. Problem done.


Despite the fact Attitude Inspector was supposedly harder, and also got the fabled bold star, it wasn't half as satisfying as 7 Ball. But that comes down to overcoming greater adversity to find victory, I think. Either way, I was satisfied with my afternoon's bouldering. The rain and sleet had started to come down much heavier by that point, so it was time to retreat. 


A good start to the bank holiday weekend. Back out on the grit tomorrow, hopefully. And hopefully find something a little harder to work on. We'll see how it goes. Hope you're all enjoying your climbing this weekend!

The UK's biggest outdoors adventure sports event gets BIGGER

Last July was hot. Very hot, if I do recall. And my biggest memory of this heat was being at Cliffhanger, sat in the sunshine, in Millhouses Park, Sheffield, watching the dyno competition. I did not envy those climbers. It was almost too hot to simply sit, so launching yourself from jug to jug did not appeal - unless you enjoy sweating... a lot.


The shade generously provided by the huge marquee that engulfed the competition wall for the Sheffield leg of the IFSC Bouldering World Cup was most welcome. It was cool in there. Like sweet relief, those that didn't want to bake their skin in UV rays dived under the canopy.


Nevertheless, the heat wasn't debilitating, and I did make the obligatory rounds of the entire event. My main intention in attending was to catch the World Cup competition. Watching some of the world's strongest battle it out for the crown drew me in - but there was so much more on offer. Indeed, I wrote a blog about it at the time.


This year, however, Cliffhanger has teamed up with Rat Race and is moving! No longer will it be based in the long and slender Millhouses Park, running between a stream and a dual carriage way. Instead, "the UK's biggest outdoors event for outdoor people", as the strapline goes, is moving to Graves Park this summer. The larger venue brings with it a number of added bonuses. Alongside all the shops, food stalls, games, activities, demonstrations, and the British Bouldering Competition, there will also be a music stage, onsite camping and parking! 


Don't underestimate the value of parking onsite. One of the biggest problems with holding the event in Millhouses Park was a lack of places to leave the car. The residents of the area definitely know when Cliffhanger hits, because a massive influx of thousands of vehicles descends on their roads. Finding a space within a mile of the park was hard work. So the fact that this will be catered for at Graves is definitely welcome.


Festival co-organiser Matt Heason said: "This is a big step up for Cliffhanger. Graves Park is a brilliant venue. Right in the heart of the city but on the doorstep of the Peak District, it spreads over more than 200 acres and is surrounded by ancient woods."


So, with that in mind, I can't wait! Get it down in your calendars... July 7 and 8. If you're into your outdoors/adventure sports, you've got to attend. There's no ifs or buts about it. Get down there!

An evening of rock climbing - Life on Hold review

Last night I attended the world premier of Life on Hold at the Climbing Works. It was the perfect end to an afternoon of impromptu climbing in the sunshine at Stanage. Shattered, aching, and ready for bed at 8pm, I decided to drag my weary body from the sofa and head on over to the Works for the film showing. At only £5, the cost included two lectures, from Chris Webb-parsons and Dan Varian, and the film itself. Bargain. Plus the event's profits were donated to the Edale Mountain Rescue Team, so there was the added bonus of feeling like I was contributing to a rock climbing community I feel very much a part of.


A small gazebo had been placed over the entrance to the climbing centre, with a pull up banner of Ned Feehally sat beside the doorway. The actual reason for Ned's 2D effigy being placed so prominently can only be guessed, but I would assume it has something to do with the fact that he is, undeniably, the protagonist in Life on Hold. This is apparent from watching the teasers the film's creators, Outcrop Films, had previously released. And the film itself didn't do anything to contradict this. He was the star of the show. But more on that very shortly. First, have a watch of the trailer for Life on Hold. 

Inside, the Works staff had placed over a hundred plastic garden chairs in rows along the matting under the competition wall. I was relieved to discover we wouldn't be stood up or sat on the floor for the duration. Sitting on a chair on foam cushioning, however, does have the odd effect of feeling as though on a boat during a choppy channel crossing. Anyway, after gaining my bearings and relaxing into my garden furniture, I was ready for the show.


Chris Webb-parsons, the gregarious Aussie crusher who has numerous V14/15 ascents to his name, began proceedings with a slide-show of his life. He seemed nervous - bless him - but he began with a joke that had the crowd roaring and he kept it going with a series of self-mocking anecdotes and photos. 


He was born in England, but his parents moved to Australia when he was two, meaning Chris definitely defines himself as Australian. He grew up in the nation's capital, Canberra, and found climbing shortly after getting expelled from school for setting off chlorine bombs, causing the police to close his entire neighbourhood as a precaution.


He seemed to have a natural talent for the sport - or he skimmed ahead in the story - because shortly after he mentioned his start in climbing he was talking about his first FA of a sport climb near Sydney (unfortunately, I can't remember the name) which, at 8C+, became Australia's hardest. He then took up bouldering, and began squashing every problem he could get his hands on. This culminated in a dream-come-true ascent of The Wheel of Life, the epically long V16.

Chris Webb-parsons on Wheel of Life (V16)

A break from climbing, to set up a rope access company, followed. This was jacked-in a short while later in favour of the nomadic life of a professional rock climber, when Chris began traveling the globe, collecting hard ascents in some of the most iconic bouldering destinations the world has to offer. Serious shoulder injury forced a year of recovery and rest, however. This didn't seem to dampen any talent as, when he was ready to climb again, he jumped on Mandala at Hueco Tanks, Texas, an iconic V12, and managed to crush it. (Talent, much?) Since then he has lived in Austria and competed in last year's World Cup circuit, before moving to England (Sheffield, to be precise) to train for this season and climb on "God's Own Rock", the wonderful grit stone of the Peak District.


The presentation went down well. The roar of applause filled the Climbing Works for a short while, before the microphone was handed over to Dan Varian, who took a different approach entirely to his presentation. He wanted to set the scene for the main feature of the evening, Life on Hold, as well as give his take on the British bouldering scene, what direction he saw it heading in, and talk a little about his own recent, and very hard, ascents - of both the repetitious and pioneering kinds.


Dan has become known for both high-balls and high numbers in these parts. He seems to find beautiful lines where none had been found before and send them in impeccable style - ground up, above a thick floor of mats. An opening and very bold statement, "trad climbing is dead, at least under eight metres", preceded proof as to why this is the case. This set the scene perfectly for the film, as a great deal of the boulders were indeed approaching the double figure metre mark. He seems to have nothing but contempt for any "squalid" little boulders, but prefers seeking out bold and beautiful lines that follow a obvious path up the face of a cliff band or large bloc. He also name dropped a few of the UK's strongest boulderers both in affection and antipathy - but I won't mention those he cited here. 

Dan Varian on a Beastmaker finger board - his creation

After a short, amateur film from Dan, of his recent work on the rock from the week, it was time for the main show. A short break and then it kicked off. The opening scene of Life on Hold was a jaw dropper, one that most climbers will have seen already. Ned Feehally cruising up Careless Torque at Stanage really is something to behold. This led into a series of very impressive, mostly high-ball, ascents of problems from all over. The Beastmaker boys - Ned and Dan - really were the stars, with Ned just about snipping the limelight with the hardest and highest ground up ascents of classic grit-stone trad routes, with only a few mats as protection. Historically hard lines, including the renowned Samson (E9 7B), were dispatched in nerve-wrangling fashion, the crowd occasionally exhaling a sigh of relief when he finally found the top, or a sigh of pain when contorting into awfully uncomfortable looking positions or falling from great height.


There were also laughs aplenty throughout the film, following delightful understatements after making historic ascents and strange noises emanating from mollified climbers. But my favourite was a superbly edited sequence of contradictory statements from Ned, who explained that the advancement of bouldering in this country had come about because climbers had learned to expel their ample strength more efficiently on the rock, before showing the most sketchy and brutish ascent of a thin looking problem from the man himself. 


From a technical point of view, the film was superb. The music selection was fantastic, changing tempo and genre to fit the nature of the scenes, and the shots themselves were sumptuous and gorgeous. You can't find a more beautiful scene than the UK's Peak District in the midst of Autumn, or when snow covered during the cold wintery months, or during the basking heat of summer. And the Outcrop Films boys made the most of their surroundings. 


My only gripe - and it is a small gripe - is when the music cut out and all we could hear was the wind battering the microphone. I understand this was an attempt to create suspense during some of the most frightening scenes - the most notable being Ned's Samson ascent - but it became annoyingly loud and abrasive, and, in my opinion, detracted from what was happening on screen. Silence would have been preferable in these instances. But then again, others may feel differently.


So, in conclusion, an excellent evening was had at the Climbing Works. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Well worth a fiver. And if you get the chance to see Life on Hold, I would highly recommend it.  

For a Few Beagles More

Yesterday I got on a boulder problem called "For a Few Beagles More" at Baslow, on the huge and imposing Eagle Stone. I had wanted to climb on this block for a while, having perused its problems in the book and discovered that it had multiple highly-rated seventh grade problems. I want to climb them all, but I really wanted to do "For a Few Beagles More".


I squeezed out of work early, at around 2pm, and shot straight out to Baslow by myself. I had heard the block was tall so I was a little apprehensive about climbing on it by myself - sans spotter. Still, I thought I could give it a bash. After I arrived at the Eagle Stone, I had a wander around it, book in hand, placing all the problems and seeing what looked do-able. To my great surprise, the problems all looked do-able. Nothing seemed out of reach, which was a nice boost. I dropped the mat and began hanging off a few holds to warm my forearms up. I stretch a little in the sunshine, feeling like a dog enjoying a relaxing afternoon in the garden, and then started throwing some moves on a few of the problems. I wasn't really trying to send anything, as I was trying to warm up on a 7A+, which turned out to be much burlier than I had expected. But a few pull ups on some crimps, a few throws between slopers, and I was ready for the main meal.


I walked around to "A Few..." and threw the mat underneath. The shoes were pulled on, a little clean of the edges, a quick windmill of the arms, and I jumped on the problem. It begins with a nice big sloping sidepull and huge footholds. You immediately cross threw to a small but positive crimp - again the footholds are gigantic, so there isn't really any strain here, you're just setting up. A slight reshuffle and you reach the right arm through to a nice sidepull. Spread your weight and, being 6ft 1" I could reach right through to a good rail, about 5ft above the last hand placement. Now you bring your feet up onto some big sloping footholds, squeeze your core and bring your left through to match the rail. Bump the feet up again and reach with the right to a bad sloper. Your legs are way underneath you at this point, so all the strain is being taken on the left arm. Pull really hard and bump up the right hand again to the top, and a better sloper. Now you have to bring your left hand up and as I did this I shot off the problem and came crashing to the ground.


To get this far took about six attempts. But on this try, I missed the mat and hit the ground feet first. A quick shooting pain through my ankle quickly turned into a numb twinge, so I decided to leave that there. Next time, I need a spotter. I have decided the Eagle Stone always requires a spotter and two mats. But I know this problem will go next time. It didn't feel took tricky. I just need to match the top and pull over.


After this little foray, I decided to head back to the car. I had forgotten to bring water with me. It was a warm day and I was struggling without a thirst quencher. So I went for a quick, extra hour-and-a-bit at the indoor wall and called it a day. Now I'm off to Stanage for a few hours. I love climbing.

The rock climbing life steps up a gear

A lot of rock climbing has been taking place in my life over the past week or two. Being as this blog is aptly named "Sam's Rock Climbing Life" I feel I should share this with you. After all, that's what social media is all about, right? Sharing.

Well, I'm going to start with last Saturday, as any further back and I will be writing for quite some time. Sheffield has had some of the nicest weather it's had for a long time. Spring is definitely here and last weekend was probably the first day of 2012 when it actually got a bit too warm for rock climbing on grit stone, which every Steel City climber knows is highly conditions dependent, no matter if you're climbing 6A or 8A. Everything feels easier with nice cool weather, and vice versa when it gets a little toasty.

So, to make the most of the beautiful weather I departed for the Peak District. Unfortunately, not as early as I would've liked, as I had to take my car into the garage for a service. As soon as I got it back, however, I was out like a shot and met a friend at Curbar at around 2pm. Despite having started climbing well over 10 years ago now, and despite having been to Curbar dozens of times before, I had never bouldered at Curbar Edge, so this was the plan for the afternoon - do some exploring, climb some good looking lines, and see how I get on. This was the first time my fat fingers had touched real stone since my return from Fontainebleau, nearly three weeks previous. This isn't to say that I hadn't been climbing at all - no, no, no. I had been training on a lot of plastic. But it was time to hit the stone. No preconceptions of being able to jump on anything hard, I just wanted to climb some good looking lines. And so that's what I did.

We warmed up on a few easy but nice problems - ranging from 5 to 6A+. We were enjoying pottering around so much however, that we stuck to this grade all day long, as it allowed us to wander up to a boulder, scope out a beautiful route and despatch it within a few minutes. Sometimes, this is all you want from a boulder session. Sometimes, sitting under the same bit of rock, falling off the same move over and over again is just not what the doctor ordered, and so we carried on in this vein. Eventually, we scoped a nice looking boulder in the book and ventured off to find it. Called 'The Art of Japan', this two star classic was said to be one of the best problems at Curbar Edge. It needed to be done. By the time we got there, however, we were both a bit knackered, and after several goes skin was wearing thin and it was time to call it a day. A excellent day, I must add. It was getting dark and four and a half hours of bouldering had taken its toll. So we departed for home.

Me on The Art of Japan, Curbar Edge - taken by Katrina Peacock

The next day I was psyched to get back out. I wanted to jump on something a little harder but that I know I could get done. It was Sunday, and it was the weekend of the Climbing Works International Festival (CWIF). Although I had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and climb on real stone, as opposed to competing on plastic problems indoors, I was still keen to watch the Semi-Finals, which started at 12noon. So I arrived at Burbage Bridge at about 9:45am. I warmed up on a nice 5+, then took roughly 10 goes to send a 6B+ that I had never done before - the book says it's hard for the grade, and I would concur; it felt harder than 6B+, that's for sure. Then I moved onto a nice arete problem at a slightly harder grade and by the time I had topped that little gem out the clock was clawing its way to midday. My hands were sore and the temperature had risen to what can only be considered not conducive for grit stone climbing. 

So I shot off to the Climbing Works and watched some gnarly beasts batter plastic problems into submission. I've said this before and I'll say it again, the climbing scene in this place is like no other that I know. Everyone loves rock climbing. End of. And this showed with the epic crowd that had turned out to see some of the strongest climbers from the UK, France, Australia and USA battle it out. It was inspiring stuff. So inspiring that I shot off after the competition had finished, squeezed in a quick trip to my parents house for some lunch, went home for a shower and got back to the Climbing Works to watch the final on the big screen with well over a hundred other rock climbing enthusiasts.

Alex Puccio on one of the final problems at the CWIF

Shauna Coxsey and Dave Barrans took home the gold for Team GB - and put on a very inspiring show to boot. The whole field, however, put in some excellent performances and I would highly recommend watching next year. I, for one, aim to compete next year. Not that I have any allusions of competing in the Semis or Finals, but would like to come away with a respectable score from the qualifiers. Keep on training and good things will happen.

Anyway, it was back to work on Monday, and I took a much needed rest day. My hands were sore, my body ached and my head said no more. So rest it was. Well, active rest anyway. I still bashed out 200 pushups. Come Tuesday, and I wanted to get back on The Art of Japan at Curbar. As soon as the working day ended, I swapped clothes, dashed back out to Curbar (thankfully, I work in the Peak District and Curbar is only ten minutes away... happy days) and attempted to make the most of what little sunlight we had left. I warmed up on a 5+ and a 6A+ and then made for the Japanese Art. Unfortunately, it wasn't to be on this occasion either. There are a few tenuous but relatively easy set-up moves on a couple of crimpy side-pulls, before you throw into a large undercut and move your feet across some precarious footholds. Then you breath, look up and launch for a low-percentage edge, around five feet from your last hand placement. Quite a large move, and I say low-percentage because I was finding it very hard to latch.

The sun had descended beyond the horizon, however, and I was finding it difficult to see the holds, so it was time to call it a day. Or was it? I hadn't had my fill yet. So I went back down to the Climbing Works to finish off the session. All in all, it was nearly three hours of climbing on rock and plastic. I went home, bashed out 100 press ups and some crunches and ate a vast dinner before passing out. 

The next day, I was unbelievably sore. To counteract this, I decided to do more pushups. It didn't really do much good, so I spent the rest of the day working and resting. But then, if you've followed the blog right, we are on Today! I went climbing again, unsurprisingly, and thought I'd be ripe and ready for some sendage. Unbeknownst to my head, my body had other ideas. I was broken. I went to the indoor wall again and managed a two hour session but it felt hard. My muscles ached. My fingers hurt. And all I wanted to do was go home.

The moral of this story is: being motivated is great - you can have a lot of fun with it - but remember to take more rest! Still, I can't wait to get back out there and finally conquer The Art of Japan. It needs doing. It's not the hardest thing I've ever been on, the moves feel smooth and easy, up to the lurch upwards anyway, which I am yet to latch. Next time. There's always next time.

Fontainebleau - the first trip of 2012

It has been a while since I last wrote on this blog. I started the year with all the good intentions of writing multiple posts a month, but this, it turns out, has been very difficult to uphold. My schedule has been insane. I've been so busy, I've barely had time to pay the bills, let alone write blog posts. That's not really an exaggeration either. You'll be glad to know, I have paid my bills, hence the internet access I'm now afforded to be able to write this. 

The last five weeks have been intense. I haven't spent too much time at home during the weekends, and weekdays tend to be spent working or climbing. This culminated in a short trip to Fontainebleau, France, last weekend. Thursday to Monday, to be precise. This weekend is the first opportunity I've had to share the experience through the medium of the written word.

So. Fontainebleau. I love Fontainebleau. I think I've written about that in the past. I try to visit the bouldering mecca a few times a year, if I can. This was my first trip of 2012. The familiar jaunt across the channel, the drive through northern France, past Paris and into the rolling fields and woodlands of the Fontainebleau region. 

We were so psyched to be going back to Font that we chose to catch a 2am Thursday ferry, after working a full day on the Wednesday and spending 4.5 hours in the car, getting to Dover. We landed in France at around 5am (time goes forward an hour there) and began the next 4 hour stint south. Rolling into Font at around 9am and, we immediately set out for the boulders - having had very little sleep. Unfortunately, our high levels of motivation were not met by rock climbing conducive atmospheric pressure, as a low front had moved in and brought heaving rain with it. We later found out it had been raining all week.

The woods around Bas Curvier (summer 2010)

Undeterred, we went to Rocher au Sabot. Nothing was dry. Except for a single line, in the trees, on the embankment, near a prominent problem called Zen. It wasn't Zen. That was soaked (despite being an overhang, a thick fog and condensation had drenched everything). It was up the hill; a dyno line for which we never found out the name. Unbelievably, this was dry. It was a 7A dyno but this mattered not. We wanted to climb. Despite absolutely no warm-up except trudging around the woods, we donned the shoes, chalked hands, and started jumping. In the end, this came to no avail. But at least we got on the rock.

The next day, more lines had dried enough to be climbable, but the conditions were still not great. Puddles filled holes, condensation still clung to the rock, and the sandstone seeped and wept from every orifice, big or microscopic. We made the most of what we had, however, and ascended a few nice problems around L'elephant. I don't want to start listing those sent, but I will quickly mention one that I did not send, if only because I'd like to climb it one day, as it's possibly my least suitable style of boulder problem, so if I manage to overcome that it will be quite an achievement for me. Anyway, it's rather famous. It's named L'coeur. And as the name suggests, there is a heart shape carved out of the centre of a large wall. From two deep pockets and good footholds, you have to use crimps on the heart to arrange your extremities in such a position that allows you to reach a slot/seam that drops vertically from the top of the wall. I have rather large fingers, and crimps just don't suit me. I struggle to pull hard on them and, therefore, got shut down by this problem. One day I shall return. 

Heavy rain blighted the third day. Actually, it wasn't heavy rain, as such. It was quite fine, but incessant. It just never stopped. We knew there would be no climbing so we went to Franchard for a walk around and to tease and torture ourselves by looking at boulders that we wanted to get on. I think we were walking and running and jumping and crawling around for two hours, because by the time we got back to the car we were both wiped. We did find around 15-20 boulders we desperately wanted to climb, though. It was like putting a kid in a candy store but stopping the little rascal from eating anything by sealing everything in massive jars. We never went back to Franchard on that trip, but we will definitely return to conquer some of those gems. We spent the rest of the day in Fontainebleau town, speaking with Tourist Information about the weather report (it wasn't good) and considering the option of going home after only one good climbing day.

Having come to terms with the fact that the trip may be a write-off, we wolfed all our food that evening, drank all our beers and a bottle of wine and passed out in a drunken haze. The next day we rose from slumber later than usual, pulled from the land of nod by bright light blasting through the windows. The sky was clear blue. Not a cloud in sight. The ground was still wet, but it looked promising. I, admittedly, was very sceptical that anything would have dried after the torrent of precipitation that had swarmed the area the day before. But we packed the car and headed for Bas Curvier. To my surprise, the car park was a flurry of activity. Dozens of boulderers throwing mats on their backs and brazenly powering into the woods. I was still pretty sure that nothing would have dried properly, but we followed suit and were soon among the familiar rocks and trees that make up one of the most popular areas in the region. I still couldn't believe when I started feeling the rock and holds and discovering that, actually, they were dry... and friction was excellent!

Andy on L'angle Allain - the world's hardest 5+?

It was so busy at Bas Curvier (Sunday) that we simply wandered around for a while, checking out lines, and watching people whizz up one of the best 6As I know, La Marie Rose, before embarking for the Rampart area, further along the trail. I wanted to show Andy a problem called L'angle Allain, one of the best 5+s I know, which was a fair way up the hill but would constitute a good warm up. We stopped occasionally, along the beautiful walk through the woodland, checked out lines and observed the odd climber. The boulder we were looking for is a sculpted, sharp arete, polished and clean. It is possibly the hardest 5+ I've ever done, because technique is everything, making it relatively easy or insanely difficult for the grade, depending on if you know what you're doing... I rarely do. It took me a few goes to repeat it again. After that, we completed a few other problems in the Rampart area, including the handsome line of Duroxmanie, before returning to the main venue, Curvier itself. Quieter now, as we had passed into early evening, we dispatched a few more boulders and found a line or two we must return to. Finally, we arrived back at the car, exhausted but happy after an excellent day of bouldering.

The next day was much the same, with gorgeous clear skies and sunshine. It was our last day, as we had to get the late ferry back, so we returned to Rocher au Sabot to get on a few problems we had observed a couple of days prior. I was rather sore from the epic day at Bas Curvier, but managed to scale a few problems here and there. By early afternoon, we were both done, and the realisation that we had 12 hours of travel ahead prompted us to call it a day. Despite the weather, we still sent lots of problems and had a great time. We also pretty much achieved the goal we had set, to climb a 7A a day. I had hoped to get on one or two 7Bs but the damp and other factors had put hold on that - or at least delayed it until next time. I've said it before, and I will say it again: I Love Fontainebleau. The boulders are so good, so varied and such a joy to climb. 

I got home, to Sheffield, at 4am Tuesday morning, totally exhausted. The drive up the M1 was accompanied by only a Punk Rock show on Radio 1, four cans of Redbull and a chicken slice. I made it by the skin of my teeth, as the old cliche goes. Collapsing on my bed, I went to sleep with a smile, dreaming of the next trip.

Old rock climbing film from the Peak District

I made this video many moons ago - probably four or five years worth of moons ago - but I thought I would give it a new lease of life. Truth be told, I thought I'd lost the film, but discovered it on an old memory stick yesterday. 


I made it with a tiny digital camera (which I still own, but it's a little worse for wear these days) and free editing software on my computer - so it's totally amateurish, but it captures a nice time when all I was doing was climbing and being a student.


So, without further adieu, here are a few nice little problems around the Peak District, England, specifically The Roaches and Newstones. (Necessary clichéd comment: "Damn! I look young in that! Feels like a lifetime ago.") Anyway... enjoy!