It is hard to know where to start with this
one as it seems so much has happened in such a short space of time. For
that reason I'll try to break up the latest news into a couple of posts
and hope ya'll don't get too bored!
Cold
days and top
conditions in abundance have continued to arrive each week, which has allowed us to get out there and
work our way steadily through the grit hit list.
I've gotten into
the habbit this last couple of years of writing out a list of routes to
try over the approaching season. Some are dreamy, some maybe more realistic
but I just find it not only maintains motivation, working through a list,
it also means there are no days spent wasted trying to decide what you want
to climb. All you do is check your list and pick one that takes your
fancy. Simple.
I had hoped to try The Zone last winter but
in the end time ran out and the winter was over, so this year it was one of the routes at the
forefront of my mind. I knew that after a summer of crimping and
climbing things much much harder it would in theory feel okay, as long
as my head was in the right place and I swatted up on my skyhook
knowledge...
I also wanted to do something where you actually
had to pull a bit harder, and not just keep it together on another
'steady plod' above a big scary run out.
The route was first climbed
back in 1998 by the legend that is John Arran. What this guy hasn't done
is not really worth knowing about. He was one of a small collection of
guys who were at the front of the gritstone revival back in the 90's,
with numerous hard and bold ascents up and down the edges. To put into perspective just how good this guy was, one of these routes
was 'Dr Dolittle' at Curbar. Thought it be somewhere in the region of E10
7a, it remains unrepeated to this day.
Just over a week ago
I got a brief opportunity to jump on The Zone and check out the
climbing. It is one of those routes that you look up at and all you see
is just a blank canvas of rock. No matter how hard you gaze upwards it
still appears to be virtually holdless. Only when you get up close and
personal with it, you begin to see that actually there are holds there
and the majority are fairly good. Flat, positive edges.
Anyway
the sun was baking, people were walking around in t-shirts and
the smaller holds felt disgustingly hot and sweaty. I understood now why it needed to
be really cold for this route. Regardless of this I still figured out I
could do all the moves and it was obvious that in crisp cold conditions everything would feel so much better.
The protection for the
route to most would seem farcical and an utter joke. Carefully
placed pieces of metal hooked over small edges, situated at just over halfway up
the almost featureless wall. In the past I too thought this was
completely bizarre and that you'd have to be a mad as a hatter to put
your faith in something that seemed so 'marginal'. However they had been
tested, most recently by
Oli Grounsell
last winter, and rumored to be as solid as a bolt...
I managed
to borrow a collection of skyhooks and all I needed now was the right
day to come along so I could head back up to try again. Tuesday arrived,
it was cold, freezing in fact and I had manage to persuade Jon and Pete
to meet me at the crag mid morning. I arrived with no real intention of
going for the lead but knew in the back of my mind that it could
potentially be something worth considering if everything went according to
plan. I just treated it like any other climbing day I've had recently,
with the attitude of not caring too much and just having fun out with
friends.
The Collection, weighted down with a
couple of heavy bags.
After jumping around for
about 30 odd minutes and
trying to force the hotaches I jumped on and eventually the blood very
slowly started to make its way to my frozen fingertips. I could at least
now feel the holds! The sequence quickly came together, the crux holds
felt like different holds to the ones I'd been pulling on in the heat a
few days previous. The crux was linked, it felt solid, my mind started
to contemplate the lead, but ideally I really wanted to link it all in
one go which I managed fairly smoothly after a brief rest. This was it
then really, it was possible and all I needed to worry about now, beside
the suspect protection, was whether I could keep my fingers from
numbing up...
Most of my ascents of late have followed a
similar pattern. Once I know something is doable and tying into the
sharp end is inevitable, I've gone through a certain mini routine. This
generally involves, checking out the gear, fetching my skinny rope from
the car, cleaning my boots and all the while trying not to focus too
much on fully commiting yourself to the line until the last second,
right before pulling onto the first holds.
It was really
interesting to read what
Katy Whittaker
had to say recently about her ascent of Knockin' on Heavens Door. How
she slowly talked herself into it by taking small steps towards tying in
for the lead "just in case" she fancied giving it a try. It is a
brilliant tactic that works incredibly well to calm any nerves, take
away the pressure and just keep things nice and casual for as long as
possible.
The nest of skyhooks actually seemed to be
quite
decent and one in particular looked as bomber as a nut placement, which did wonders for my confidence. I
managed to fiddle 4 of them over two reasonable sized edges. Surely
together they would hold a fall...? They obviously had before but so had the
Parthian Shot flake and look what happened
there...
.
I
was confident however they would not need to be tested so the helmet
went on, the boots tied up and off I set. Smoothly arriving at the gear,
I clipped in the rope and quickly blew on my hands to give them a
boost. The next bit went fine, and still going strong I took the little
left handed pinch. By this point it must have been too much for my
little fingers to
bear as they seemed to instantly numb up, the last drops of blood
squeezed out leaving them verging on lifeless. I could almost feel
myself falling backwards in slow
motion. It was either jump off here or give it an almighty lunge and
risk falling off anyway. I took the latter option and thankfully made it
to the good holds and easier climbing.
SAFE.
The moment of truth...
©Jon Clark
Another
huge relief and such a privilege to climb. It is hard
to comment on the grade and I have a limited amount of experience in these things. French grade wise, 7c/+ ish seems fair, definitely no harder. I will
say though that in no way should the route be taken at all lightly but
if the gear is solid and you could
absolutely guarantee it holding, then in some ways it climbs like a pretty bold,
slightly sketchy but brilliant, sport route... Maybe that's taking things too far. Just try to keep in
mind what
happened with the shipwreck flake and Will Stanhope.
Check back soon for a short video of the day as JC was again on hand to capture all the action and I'd
just like to thank Pete once more for his encouragement and patient
belaying. Cheers!
.JPG)
