Sonny Trotter's First Trad Ascent of Cobra Crack (5.14)

Nice video of Sonny Trotter's first "free" (i.e.  trad) ascent of Cobra Crack at Squamish in Canada. He climbed it 30-40 times over a couple of years, before finally doing the first traditional ascent. 



It's a beautiful bit of climbing, really controlled and technical, with lots of finger jamming. There's a thread over at UKC discussing the clip, and what UK grade it should be, using Dave McLeod's first ascent of Rhapsody as a comparison. Although Cobra Crack looks to have a reasonable amount of protection, the odds 
of being able to hold yourself to the wall long enough to be able to place it are minimal!

This picture shows the overhanging crack at more like its true angle - yikes!

Lise Cracks 6a!

After a mammoth 5hr session at The Castle yesterday, Lise finally completed her first 6a. Yay!!! Not the one we'd all been trying - that one's still waiting to be solved - 
but one just next to it. Ant followed and finished cleanly too. I'd have had a go myself, but I'd completely knackered myself out battling with a brute of 
a 6b layback route on the feature wall ("Catacombs") opposite, which I
didn't finish, but gave a valiant attempt at. 

I've been conscious of the fact that my layback / crack work is a weaker 
aspect of my technique - probably associated with doing most of my 
climbing inside, as it's rare that you get pure layback cracks on an 
indoor wall, yet outside at Stanage they're everywhere.  Also, I've been
really enjoying features-only routes recently, as I like the freedom to decide
which holds you're going to use and how you're going to attack each problem,
rather than being constrained to a particular set of colour-coded holds
which dictate a given set of moves.

So I started on a 25m-high features-only route upstairs, on a large column
that thins out into a tufa at the top. It was rated 5b, and I did it fairly cleanly,
only stopping for a rest at about 20m when I got an attack of Elvis leg. I then tried a ridiculous 6a in the corner with an outrageous 
dyno that I couldn't get past, and moved downstairs to the catacombs
 - my favourite bit of the centre - where I threw myself at the features-only problems until my fingers just wouldn't work anymore. 

My forearms still hurt today, it's almost painful to type, but it feels....... good.

Eyeing up the Red Tags

Yesterday was a bit of a milestone for me - I made my first attempt at one of those tantalisingly elusive red-tagged 6a routes. (At The Castle, they use blue tags for 4a-4c routes, green tags for 5a-5c, and red tags for 6a+) It was a hilariously inept attempt, it must be said - I only got just over halfway, and it took me nearly fifteen minutes and a couple of disturbing pings in my trapezius muscles to get that far, with several failed attempts at passing the first overhang.

But nevertheless, I felt quite satisfied at making the attempt at all, considering that just six months ago I was feeling similarly proud of nervelessly leading 4c. Nowadays, I'm comfortably solving probably 90% of the 5a routes I attempt, plus maybe 70-75% of 5b's and around 50% of 5c's. It's definitely encouraging, and I put it down to increased confidence just as much as actual technique. IMHO, climbing is as much a mental sport as it is physical. I still get days when I just can't focus, and for some reason the nerves come piling back... usually it's when I haven't been climbing for two or three weeks.

Correspondingly I've found that the more I climb outside - and particularly the more I lead outside, the more confident I become, and the more I consider the adjectival grade (VDiff, Severe, VS, etc) to be the most reliable indicator of a routes "do-ability" for me. I've even taken to trying to train myself to judge a route by walking around The Castle looking for a route that looks like fun, but do-able - and only then looking at the technical grade to determine if my on-sight appraisal was correct. It comes in very handy when you're climbing outside without a guidebook :)

Southern Sandstone - Strange Stuff!

On Monday we took a trip down to Harrison's Rocks for my birthday (yay!) and a first experience of climbing on soft southern sandstone... and very strange it is too!

The rock is SO soft that it's seemingly permanently covered with a thin layer of sand, from constant erosion. The venue has a couple of hard and fast rules due to the softness of the rock:

• NO TRAD LEADING
  Top ropes or soloing only
• NO running your top ropes over the edge
  Make sure that you extend your anchor with slings if necessary, to avoid the rope eroding the rock (yes, really)

Luckily, there's some good bolts on many of the routes, making top (bottom) ropes a breeze to set up. All the routes are short, most about half the height of your average Stanage route, and not much higher than an average boulder problem at the Castle.

One point I should make - it's REALLY hard to find unless you've been there before! We eventually sussed it out after about an hour of driving around near Eridge station. The trick is to go behind the station car park, and there's a very narrow road with some used car lots & garages and things in it. Go down there, and keep going for about a mile and a half or so.... then there's a small and easy-to-miss entrance on the left with a small sign for "Birchen Wood".

Don't keep driving up and down looking for a sign that says "Harrisons Rocks", like we did - the "sign" referred to in most directions that you'll find is actually a sheet of A4 paper with the word "Harrisons" written on it, that may well have fallen down or folded itself over in the breeze. Look for the "Birchen Wood" sign instead! And if you reach a triangular junction with Station Road, and a sign that points ahead to Groombridge, you've gone a couple of hundred metres too far!

Once we eventually found it - about 2pm - the short November day meant that our climbing time was limited, and we didn't manage to get hold of a guidebook so we were climbing truly "onsight". But we still managed to get some good routes in.

Pick of the bunch was what a helpful passerby told me was called "Root Route 3" (5b **). This one's a right sod! Fun though :) I must have hung around for nearly fifteen minutes on this one, searching for holds that I was sure had to be there - and they were, eventually, they just... well... took some finding...

Also, there's a route in the crack to the left that we both did, and reckoned it was probably about 4b / 4c. But the helpful passerby told us that was called "Open Chimney", which apparently is just 2b! If anyone can shed some light on this, please do!

More photos are on Flickr

Gratuitous Gritstone Goodness

The aches and scrapes of gratuitous gritstone goodness have subsided enough for me to type about what we got up to last weekend in the Peaks, so here goes.

On Saturday morning, we dropped Lise in Hathersage to meet the MountainGirl crew, and - pausing briefly for much-needed coffee at the fantastic Coleman's deli - Ant and I headed up to the Edge.

Looking grim and imposing in the early October fog, it still felt like we were back - we headed for the very first buttress by the car park to induct Ant into the arcane mysteries of anchor-tying and climbing call sequences. After about an hour, with Ant fully indoctrinated into the Cult Of Malisms ("..always ask yourself, does it work? Is it safe? Can ah improove it?") it was time for him to try his first outdoor lead.

We chose Fire Curtain (VD), on the grounds that it was
a) short
b) only a VD
c) close
and
d) right next to an easy descent route, so that once he had tied his nachor and shouted "safe!" I could dash round and up to check it before seconding.

It's a thoroughly unremarkable route, but a good one for your first trad lead for the reasons above, plue it's out of sight of the hardcore elite climbers further down the crag, gleefully soloing E-umpteens as if they were stepladders.

Ant lead it without any problems, placed his protection really well, and tied a nicely equalised anchor at the top, and came down smiling, but said "I think that's about as hard as I want to lead today..."

(yeah, right!)

So off we toddled to find something a bit more interesting for my lead. After a frustrating couple of minutes trying to get started on Crack and Corner (HVD 4b ***), but failing miserably on holds as smooth and slippery as ice, we settled on Black Hawk Hell Crack (S 4a ***).

Stanage being as popular as it is, just as I was getting myself psyched up and sorting out the rack, someone - from a scan of the logbook at UKClimbing.com, it might have been Owen W-G - nipped in ahead of me and solo-ed up the damn thing, nicely deflating my ego before I started... but he did shout down the very useful nugget of advice - "There's some threads! Bring slings!". And there were indeed some excellent threads at about 3/4 height, just before the tricky finish. It was a really great route, up there in the enjoyability stakes with Flying Buttress in my book. As I belly-flopped over the tricky top-out I was breathless and pumped, but grinning like an idiot and feeling rather chuffed with myself. Ant comfortably seconded the route and likewise, came up over the mantle with a huge grin on his face, breathlessly enthusing, "what a great route!"

Encouraged by a solid second of a Severe, Ant reckoned he was up for trying a lead at that grade, so for the last climb of the day we chose The Bishop's Route (S 4a ***) - a meandering 25m expedition that thoroughly deserves its 3 stars. I was almost tempted to suggest that we did it as a multi-pitch, with the first belay on the obvious ledge behind the tree, and in retrospect this might have been a good idea - if you do it in one, once the leader has got past that ledge you can't see him, and the increased friction from the rope dragging round the corner can't be fun at the top.

But it was still a great climb, another route that, like so many at Stanage, leaves you flopping breathlessly over the mantle in a great ungainly slapping of palms, but chuckling at your own lack of grace and grinning like a cheshire cat at the exhilaration of the route you've just completed. Ant lead it confidently and capably, and still managed to tie a decent anchor despite the distinct lack of big boulders at the top. As the light started to fade and the mist began to descend once more, we hobbled our aching, abraded bodies down the crag and headed off into Hathersage to meet Lise after her bouldering course, for the traditional post-crag pint-and-pie-of-the-gods at the Old Hall Inn in Hope.

Aftermath

I ache. Everything aches. I can hardly lift my left arm. Peeling myself out of bed this morning required a Herculean effort, but it's a satisfied kind of ache. The feeling of knowing that you pushed your body about as hard as it could go, but you had a great time doing it.

Lise was on her bouldering course all day Saturday, so Ant and I set off for Stanage popular end, with the aim of getting Ant comfortable with leading trad, placing his own protection and tying safe anchors. I'll type more when I can move my fingers again.

Goody New Shoes - LaSportiva Katanas

My old faithful 5-10 Spire's have finally had their day. They were a great shoe for the beginner, but after almost a year of heavy use, they've all but lost their friction and they're curving up badly at the toes. As I'm starting to push higher grades - I'm regularly bouldering 5B problems now, and I'm pushing 5C - the holds are getting smaller and smoother, and I need a more technical, pointy-toed shoe in order to progress.

So after an agonising wait until pay day, I finally bought a pair of LaSportiva Katanas. The shop assistant said that a lot of people end up with Katanas because you can go really really small before they get too uncomfortable, and he was right - I'm a UK size 11 in normal shoes, and as of yesterday I am now the proud owner of a pair of size 8 Katanas.

They certainly made a difference straight away. I cracked a 5A screw-on-smears-only boulder problem that has been bugging me for a while, and felt confident enough to try an arrête-and-features-only 5B toprope route. I got about halfway up before admitting defeat - I think laying back against an arrête is a technique I'm going to need some tutoring in - but compensated by going straight up a 5B bolt-on route on the same rope, without much trouble.

On the other hand, I found I was almost fighting against the shoes for flat smearing. They're very concave and pointy, which makes them perfect for tiptoeing on tiny holds, but it was quite hard to get enough of the sole in contact with the surface to get a decent flat smear. Excellent friction when I did get good contact, though. So much so, that I almost had problems switching feet on holds, because the foot I was standing on had too much grip to slide it off.

And painful? feck me are they painful to walk in! They're so pointy-toed, I had to walk on the sides of my feet, looking like a ricketts-stricken coal miner. I also found I had to take them off while belaying, to restore the circulation to my tingling toes. Mind you, I'm sure that's entirely down to me choosing to go so far below my normal size, and I'm expecting them to relax a little after some more use.

I'm sure I'll get used to them soon, and where better to test them out than good-old Stanage next weekend.

How to tie knots - with animations

I just found a very handy guide to tying some common climbing knots over at Grog's Climbing Knots. Each one is explained in words and animated step-by-step - a great reference if, like me, you're just getting started on "proper" trad climbing.

Dan Osman - 400ft speed solo climb

The late Dan Osman speed-soloing "Bear's Reach" on Lovers' Leap in California. It's a 5.7, which roughly equates to about a 4b in UK technical grade, but still.... it's a jawdropping feat of nerve - or utter stupidity, depending on how you look at it. I remember telling Mal Fraser about this video on our outdoor climbing course, and Mal's response was typically pragmatic: Mal: "Dan Osman...... hmm....American lad, is he?" Me: "He was, yeah" Mal: "Was? Well there you go then." Says it all really :)

To Stanage

We've been absolutely run off our feet recently, and not had as much climbing time as we'd have liked, but Lise has been practically bouncing off the walls with barely-contained glee about her upcoming Mountaingirl Bouldering Techniques Workshop in (where else?) Stanage on Oct 14th. Looks like a great course, and the chance to learn from some of the best women climbers in the world is one not to be sniffed at. So I'll be travelling up with her and doing some regular climbing with the rest of the usual suspects while she's learning the tricks of the trade.

Depending on how brave I feel, I might have another go at the truly evil Right Twin Crack, which reduced both of us to gibbering defeated wrecks last time we attempted it.

Edmund Hillary's 16mm Footage of First Everest ascent

I just got sent this link to a truly fantastic video on Google - Sir Edmund Hillary's 16mm footage of the first successful ascent of Everest. Sadly it doesn't include any footage of the final summit ascent - IIRC in Hillary's book I believe he says that they didn't take the 16mm camera on the summit bid as it was too heavy, but there's some fantastic footage from the days when mountaineers wore brylcreem and thick chunky sweaters, and contemplated tricky routes with a few knowing nods over a pipe. Great stuff.

Washout in Wales

Last weekend's sojourn to Wales for a weekend of multi-pitch climbing ended in a complete washout. The weather was unclimbably wet, windy and - well, Welsh all weekend, and we eventually admitted defeat, returning home a day early.

It got off to a bad start just south of Manchester, when we realised that we'd forgotten our sleeping bags. "Oh, we'll be alright" we thought, "we'll just buy a couple of travel blankets from a service station..." (shudder)

When we arrived at Dolgam campsite just after 9pm, it was cold, dark and raining. We set up the tent in record time and piled in for the night.

I don't think I've ever had such an uncomfortable night's sleep. The rain and wind got worse throughout the night, with the tent bowing in us frequently, and without the sleeping bags we could hardly stay asleep for more than five minutes at a time. I lost count of how many times I woke up and just wished desperately for morning.

Once dawn finally broke, and the farmer woke us up for his money, a quick look around the windswept and sodden campsite showed an array of people hastily packing their tents back into their cars and escpaing to a B&B - that is, providing their tents had actually survived the night. Some didn't - so we took one look at each other's faces, and made a quick, sharp exit ourselves.

As we drove up through Llanberis Pass, searching for a B&B, visibility was down to no more than twenty metres. When it did eventually ease off enough to venture outside, we tried a recce up to the Tolkein-esque landscape of Cwm Idwal, home to the famous climbing sites of Devil's Kitchen, Suicide Wall and our intended target, Idwal Slabs. But with the cloudbase seemingly just a few metres above us, and what felt like the whole of Llyn Idwal coming at us horizontally, we again had to admit defeat, and return to the Tyn-y-Coed to watch the England match, nurse a medicinal pint or two, and indulge in the best post-mountains recuperative meal on the planet, their legendary Shoulder of Lamb.

What doesn't kill you....

I've been nursing a shoulder injury for a couple of weeks - my right shoulder popped out, as it often does, when I threw a football back to some kids outside work, and it's been painful since then. I've also had a tendency to get twinges and gripes in my elbows.

When I went back to the climbing wall last week, I found I was being ultra cautious and over protective of my shoulders and elbows - but this was actually helping me climb with better technique. I was really focussing on keeping my arms straight to avoid unnecessary tension, and making sure of my feet to avoid shock-loading my elbows.... and almost without realising it, I cracked an overhanging 5a boulder problem that had been eluding me for months. Then it dawned on me - I should have been climbing this way all along. Caution and care were giving me a smoother, slow-and-steady style of climbing, as opposed to the brute-force, upper-body-intensive style that I'd been using up until my latest injury.

Emboldened by this success, I decided to cautiously see how far this new style would get me, and I beat a 5b route on a top-rope yesterday afternoon, without too much trouble. Admittedly, it probably wasn't the hardest 5b I've attempted, and I still struggled with a fiendish 5a later on - but even Lisa also had to admit defeat on that one, so I'm not too worried :)

Martin's back from the alps

DSC_0840
Originally uploaded by cassiocassio.

Good to see that our climbing buddy Martin Storey got back safely from what looks like a very cool trip to the alps. He's got one of those insanely shiny digital SLR cameras, and takes some great shots - of which this is just one.

Good Guidebook For North Wales?

We're thinking of nipping away to North Wales over August Bank Holiday, to get some climbing in around Llanberis. We've previously done a days climbing at Holyhead mountain and another day at Tryfan Fach, but we fancy exploring Idwal Slabs, or something similar. We'd like to get some multipitch climbs under our belt, and we're probably looking at a grade span of VDiff to S/VS at most.

So we need a guidebook. We really love the Rockfax series - especially the big colour photographs, which make a huge difference to the ease with which you can get your bearings on a crag - but they don't seem to have one for that area.

Any recommendations?

Freaky feet

Lisa has had to take a week or two off from climbing to let her toes recover - her rock shoes are so tight that her big toes are starting to bend inwards quite severely, and are becoming painful. Anyone else get this, and can anyone offer any suggestions on how to cope with it?

We're Jammin'.... hope you like jammin' too

Gritstone Hands!
Originally uploaded by Dr Snooks.

One of the big differences I've discovered between "inside" climbing and outside climbing on gritstone is that the nature of gritstone - lots of wide cracks, minimal jugs - requires a lot more jamming than I've been used to.

Jamming, for the uninitiated, involves putting your hand into a crack and then making a fist, so that your fist fills the crack and provides a wedge that you can use as a hold. You can also jam with just your fingers.

On our first visit to Stanage I wasn't really expecting this, and consequently I floundered on some routes (e.g. Twin Cracks, which frankly scared the wossnames out of me) that technically should be within my abilities.

This time round, however, I was forewarned and forearmed (wince), and used fist-jamming quite comfortably, just like any other technique. As a result, I led a "Severe 4a" route on my first climb of the weekend - Hiker's Crack - with a smile on my face the whole way. Jamming even felt like fun - but it sure takes it's toll on your hands...

Kinder Suprise

Freaky contortion
Originally uploaded by Dr Snooks.

Another great weekend in the Peak District - this time we went for Upper Tor at Kinder first, before popping in to Stanage Popular for a quick one or two on the way home.

I led "Hiker's Crack" (S 4a *) on Upper Tor, which was a really nice route - after every couple of tricky moves, there was a convenient ledge to stand on while you get protection in. One of those climbs that makes you sweat and grimace, but I never felt in serious danger and got to the top with a big satisfied grin.

Lise led Pedestal Wall which was not so nice - it was technically easier, but it was much less satisfying.

We nipped into Stanage for a quick attack of Leaning Buttress Crack in a howling gale. This got tricky, and I found myself getting inadvertently wedged in behing the gap in the buttress. Fun route though.

The photos are all on Flickr, and on YouTube there are a couple of videos of Lisa and Kelsey seconding Right-Hand Trinity at Stanage, the last climb of the weekend.

My First New Route!

Well lawks, crivens, and possibly gadzooks aswell - turns out that Not-Holly-Bush-Gully is indeed a hitherto unrecorded route! In our complete inexperience and inability to make sense of the definitive Stanage guidebook, we stumbled across possibly the only square-inch of Stanage that hasn't been climbed and recorded decades ago.

See full discussion on UKClimbing.com

So now I get to give it a grade - I'd say it's VDiff 4b as the finishing move to get onto the top plateau is a bit hairy, because the only bit of protection is quite low down, and there's nothing to grab, so it requires a flat-palming friction move - and most importantly, give it a name.

I'd previously said that the first new route I put down would be called Too Much Rock For One Hand but it somehow just doesn't seem appropriate here - the climb is quite short, if a little hairy.

Suggestions so far include:

• "Als Brown Pants"


• "Wu Tang Clan"


• "Golly Hush Bully"
  because it's not Holly Bush Gully after all


• "Bob Hoskins"
  because it's quite short but surprisingly hairy


• "Chastity Belt"
  because there's only bit of protection, but it's crucially quite low down

All suggestions gratefully received :)

I'll Name That Climb In...

Not "Holly Bush Gully"
Originally uploaded by Dr Snooks.

Can anyone tell me what this route is called?
We thought it was "Holly Bush Gully" at the time, but having got back and looked around the photos on UKClimbing.com, it's quite obvious that it wasn't Holly Bush Gully at all. In fact, I've scoured the definitive Stanage guidebook again and again, and I can't figure out which route it is...

Picture and notes here

If you stand looking at the obvious large slabby traverse of "Fairy Steps" ( from here ) then it's literally just round the other side of the buttress to your right. From the top plateau of it, we could see the whole of "Fairy Steps"

So can anyone tell me the correct name for this route, and let me correct my logbook? Or have I done the unthinkable and unwittingly put down a new route on Stanage on my very first climb outside? Surely not...!

Any help appreciated

Ten Things We Learned From Climbing At Stanage

1. Gritstone climbing is very different to gym climbing
   Inside at the climbing wall, it tends to be all about finger tips - hooking your fingers over smaller and smaller holds, clinging on for dear life to steeper and steeper overhangs - whereas on gritstone, it's mostly rounded edges. There's often not much to hold onto, and it requires a lot more attention to balance and body position, and a lot more friction moves and flat palming.


2. Northern grades are hard!
   Of *course* they're hard - they're Northern! :)
   We led routes classed as "Severe" and "Very Severe" in Wales without too much of a problem, but the Stanage routes seem to be at least one, if not two, grades harder.
   For instance, a route like "Right Twin Crack" at Stanage, classed as VS, was just terrifying. I tried to lead it, and got as far as the overhang but ran out of holds and places for protection. I tried to traverse over to the left crack, which is apparently just a VDiff, but couldn't get a hold and couldn't get any more protection in. Stuck there, balancing on one foot jammed into the crack but not actually standing on anything, cleaving desperately to the rock with a left-handed fist jam while I tried in vain to get a wallnut into a crack that was just out of reach, with my muscles running out of strength and my nerves screaming "YOU'RE GOING TO FALL AND GO SMACK INTO THAT WALL" at me, I had to admit defeat. Lise then tried to complete the climb, and although she's certainly a better and braver climber than me, she couldn't get any further, and returned back to the ground saying "That's just NASTY....".
   
   Scouting around the UKClimbing.com logbooks for this route yields the following comment :
   

   "Absolutely Horrible one of the Hardest VSs I've done."

   Nuff said.


3. Falling outside is much more scary than inside
   At the indoor climbing wall, every route is either bottom-roped, or if it's a lead route, it's already bolted. Consequently, you KNOW that if you fall, as long as your belayer is paying attention, you're going to be OK. Outside, however, if you're "trad" climbing (i.e. placing your own protection), you're completely dependent on the resilience of that protection. I've heard enough horror stories of falling climbers ripping 1, 2, 3 or more bits of protection out before finally coming to a halt, and consequently even on short routes like Holly Bush Gully, if you can only get one bit of protection in, it really makes you think hard before making that big lunge over that overhanging capstone.


4. Two half-ropes makes a lot of sense for zig-zaggy routes
   Climbing with two half-ropes rather than one full rope is a good way of minimising rope drag when your route zigzags, or involves a traverse. Needs a little bit more focus on rope management, but it works.


5. The guidebook will give you subtle hints
   ...and they'll usually be very understated. For instance, the v-shaped groove on "Tier Climb" is described as "troublesome" - it's not bloody kidding!


6. ALWAYS pay attention when belaying!
   Belaying can get a bit tedious, when everyone is nervous and making extra sure of every hold before moving on - but there's no excuse for not paying attention. Your climber could fall at any point, with no warning - especially on the mostly-jugless gritstone of Stanage - and short routes in conjuction with scant protection opportunities could mean that a fraction of a second of your reaction time is all that keeps your climber from a painful reunion with the ground.


7. Practise your rope techniques
   It's easy to get rusty between outdoor climbs on key skills like making a safe anchor, tying good knots and rope management. We took a couple of hours in the evenings before Stanage to practise these techniques, just tying into the kitchen table or even hooking slings around our fingers, and practising the calls - and it helped a lot. When you get to the top of a route, it's not the best time to be thinking "so, how do I do this again...?".


8. Always put a name on your climbing calls
   On a busy crag with lots of people around, there are a lot of "Safe!" calls flying around - if you can't see your climber, how can you be sure it's them? Just putting your partner's name on the end of every call (e.g. "Safe, AL" "OK, you're off belay LISE") can help avoid a lot of misunderstanding, and hopefully avoid the dreaded "You're off belay" when you're still attacking that overhanging capstone


9. The Old Hall Inn in Hope does the best steak pie ever
   see? ...and the cottage pie is pretty damn good too.


10. Hardhurst Farm on-site cafe does a perfect climbers breakfast
    It's one of those cafes that doesn't have a menu - you just order what you want, on the understanding that it's going to consist of the traditional English breakfast staples - bacon, sausage, egg, and burnt crunchy bits :) And you can have the whole thing in a sandwich.

Stanage Photos Are On Flickr!

Al escapes the groove on "Flying Buttress"
Originally uploaded by Dr Snooks.

We had a great weekend climbing on Stanage Edge, and we've finally got all the photos up on Flickr, in the Stanage Grit group.

More to come on this later

Couple of videos from Stanage

I took a couple of quick videos at Stanage, and stuck them on YouTube here

Campsites for Stanage

We found an alternative campsite for our trip to the Peak District : Hardhurst Farm

Showers, a nearby pub, a cafe on site for breakfasts - luxury!

I did try to book into Stocking Farm campsite, which looked to be nice and close to Froggatt Edge, but the nice old lady who answered the phone said (and I quote) :

"So who'll be occupyin' these tents then? Are yer married couples or what? Cause this is a Christian site, an' I don't take gentlemen and ladies sharin' unless they's married!"

So Hardhurst Farm it is :)

Nice Rack

It was Lisa's birthday on Wednesday, and I bought her as full a rack as I could afford. I set myself a budget, and got the best I could within that budget - and I'm pretty pleased with the resulting list:

• A set of nuts, sizes 1-10


• 5 screwgate karabiners


• 5 quickdraws


• 3 slings, 1 x 30cm, 1 x 60cm, 1 x 120cm

In conjuction with her friend buying her a set of hexcentrics, sizes 3-9, I think that's a pretty good starter rack. We could maybe do with some longer slings, for setting up belays, and we'll need helmets - but then you have to go and try helmets on before you find the one that's right for your head.

We're now itching to try these out in the Peak District at Stanage Edge, where we're going next weekend..... but North Lees campsite is already full. Anyone have any recommendations for a good climbers campsite, near to the crag?

Post-Mountain Improvement

At the climbing wall on Friday night, I noticed a marked improvement in my lead climbing since Toubkal. I don't know if it's down to confidence, technique or fitness, but it was quite noticeable. My usual nerves were almost absent, and easily conquered - I was leading 4c routes without any real trouble, and when I did get stuck, I just calmly stood there and worked it out, without getting knackered while I did so.

I think it's more down to confidence than anything else - having got through our unsuccessful summit attempt when we ended on the wrong route, and had to solo climb our way out of it feeling very exposed, even on a not-too-steep face, then a 20m wall with a rope didn't seem like a big deal at all, however much more steep it may have been.

I've also seen several other people around t'intarweb report increased aerobic fitness after spending time at altitude then returning to normal oxygen levels, but apparently it returns back to normal after about ten days, unfortunately. Bugger....

Toubkal Videos on You Tube

Just a quickie - I've uploaded some videos from the Toubkal summit day to YouTube.

There's a couple of clips of the best way to descend icefields, a summit panorama, and an intense electrical storm over Marrakesh.

Back from Jbel Toubkal

Me on the summit of Toubkal
Originally uploaded by Dr Snooks.

We've just about recovered from our ascent of Jbel Toubkal, the highest peak in North Africa. At 4167m / 13,665ft high, and seeming to consist almost entirely of frustrating loose scree, it's a veritable graveyard for ankle ligaments and hiking boots.

I'll post a detailed report later, but for now, here's the photos on Flickr