Blood, sweat and tears...If it was easy, everyone'd be doing it

It's been a busy few days climbing. Sunday saw Lee's return from his expedition to France. He spent a week trying to climb a very hard route, without actually succeeding. This used to sound a bit of a bizarre way to spend your time to me, but with my entrance into the world of hard climbing, it is making a lot more sense. The point is you are climbing absolutely at your limit- therefore, and I quote "hard climbing is all about learning to embrace failure". There is only one way we find our limit- by exceeding it. Sport climbing carries risks, but they are much fewer than traditional climbing- a risk of injury is still present- but the risk of death found in trad climbing is massively reduced. This enables the climber to throw themselves at really physically or technically hard climbing that they wouldn't dare to climb with trad technique.
So Sunday was spent with Lee working his current hard route "Ten" (7b+ from an earlier post). He was feeling a bit tired from his weeks exertions, and I was equally lacking energy from my working week, but practicing the moves on my own really hard route, "Under my Thumb" (the 6c+ that claimed my finger those weeks ago....) The end of the day saw Lee making a surprising amount of progress, and me managing a clean top-roped ascent of my route. (Photo above: End of the day's climb ). Monday saw me dashing back from work to climb the evening with the saviour and one of her friends at Maeshafn. I kept trying my hard route (7a called “Alex’s crack), and they had fun getting back into the swing of things after both having a long break from climbing. It was a lovely relaxed evening, which finished with the obligatory visit to the pub. Brilliant. Oh, and I think I forgot to mention that we're getting perfect weather here right now- temp's over 20- countryside is vibrant green, and being so high up (latitude), it's not dark until 10pm. Damn!: summer here is good! And so to today; baking hot. I arrive at the crag a bit later than Lee and Paul and find an extra figure; Roger, who's in his 50's, writes for climbing magazines etc. I've met him briefly before- a thoroughly affable chap. Which is good, because he's here to climb with me. So we toddle off to try my route- I'm going to attempt to lead it. 1st go I get about 30 ft up and bottle it. I've not warmed up and feel a bit tense. I don’t feel ready.
I lower off, and Roger makes a superb effort to lead it taking just one rest. So after he's lead it cleanly again, and I've practiced once more- I'm up for a lead again. This time it all feels right, and the fear present in my 1st attempt has all but vanished. I manage the crux (the hardest move of the climb), not exactly with style, but hey- what’s that matter I’m at the top!
Wow. That's hard climbing- right on my limit. Feels fantastic. Satisfied, it's time to wander around the corner to see how the "A" team is fairing: Just in time to see Paul trying to lead Ten from the ground all the way up. He makes the first hard move ok- but not easily, and then on into the enormous overhanging roof at the top of the climb. His moves into the roof look good, but the crux is crazy- he pulls his body as tense as he can, and then releases his left hand to slap up for a good hold; which he gets, but only as his feet fly from the rock. So gravity takes over and spits him dramatically from the cliff, his one hand hold not being nearly enough to keep him on the face. He flies about 10ft under the overhang until the rope becomes tight.
But Paul is gripping his hand, and swearing. Coming off the rock he's torn the skin on his finger. This is bad. It means he won't be able to climb for days, maybe even a week. We tape up his bleeding hand and offer much sympathy- but he's really annoyed.
Lee now has more determination than ever to exact some kind of revenge upon the crag, and so embarks upon his own attempt from the ground up. Now Lee's a lot taller, so he usually makes the start move look a bit easier. Not this time, and though he too manages it, he starts swearing. "I've split my finger tip". Finally physics have caught up with biology, and putting enormous pressure with his 100kgs onto his finger tips, something had to give. And it wasn't the rock. So once more my finger-tape comes to the rescue- and Lee performs a running repair whist balancing on the cliff. Now gritting his teeth, he sets off up the face towards the roof. Lee's physiology is not well suited to this kind of very steep climbing- he's too tall, and his frame too heavy- so it's quite extraordinary he climbs this kind of stuff so well. But this is THE move, and his finger is bleeding and throbbing.
Unbelievably, to great whoops from us on the ground he makes it, and the next move, and the next. But all is not well, his muscles are shaking, and he's used too much energy lower down on the climb. He clips the penultimate bolt and climbs above it. He has one move left, is teetering on the top of the overhang; it's blood or glory. Blood it is, with a exasperate "No!" he's flying through the air as I race to get the rope tight- 20ft lower than he was only a second ago, Lee swings hard into the wall below the roof. His comment after a stream of expletives was "I feel sick".

And that is HARD climbing :¬)


Lee's hands at the end of today, blood blister on left finger next to index finger, and the split oozing blood on his right index. The white stuff is magnesium carbonate- gymnasts chalk that we climbers use to keep our hands dry, and improve friction.

Latest! Video to go with the text!