Let us delve into the inner workings of this oft misunderstood underclass of human-kind. Lurking in the nooks and crannies of average sub-urban dwellings. Mumbling darkly about cranking and Rurps and other vaguely hinted-at obscenities. Striding across frozen wastes with packs that would humble your average yak. There we will find them...The Climbers
My Climbing History
I started off in the Mountains in the Austrian Alps at the tender age of 4. My parents were keen walkers and so I tagged along. I sent my Fisher-Price Adventure People up mountains made of bed blankets and trees and the like. My inspiration was Jan. I heard the wind blowing and my crampons creaking in my imagination well before I had any idea of what crampons might actually look like. My Dad and I ventured into the Alps more seriously when I was about 14 and after that the bug really bit.
Here's another ludicrous proposition...
Position yourself several hundred feet off the deck with nothing between you and strawberry jam but your own precarious sense of the proposterous that got you here in the first place.
Add, a pinch of friction, a few bits of gear, a dash of lunacy.
Some Chutzpah, a gallon of Adrenochrome and you're...
Up, up and Away...!!!
But why....?
Why endure the pain, the fear, the pant-soiling, gut-churning, mind-wasting, arm-weakening, jaw-clenching, foot-blistering, pack-hating, gear-fiddling, belayer-abusing, ruck-humping, stomach-pumping agony of it all?
Why?
Because it means you're ALIVE....ALIVE I TELL YOU...(pant...heave...drool...)and-you-get-to-wear-tight-lycra-an-hang-around-in-harnesses....and you do get some nice scenery as well of course...I mean it wouldn't really be as good without the scenery and, well...you can meet people...y'know...similar people to you...and ummmm...well anyway...I LIKE climbing.....
I learned rockclimbing on the greasy limestone crags of Belgium (accompanied by several greasy Belgian climbers I might add).
THEN, I moved to the UK. I started out on the Gritstone but have been spoiled by Belgium's yummy limestone jugs I didn't get on so well with Grit.
So I climbed in:
The first tale outrageous tale of daring-do-do...
Well, let's see. Okay...it may not remain the first tale of daring-do-do but it is quite funny...
Hear Ye! Hear Ye!...for now a tale will be told of a young rock bunny just breaking in her first pair of slicks...and the tale is set in gorgeous Pembrokeshire, England, (Planet Earth...just in case you were wondering...) The intrepid climbing gal...let's call her Sue...(although Amy or Jan see "Mountain Climbers" would have been nice...but hey you can't have everything...)...so Sue. She's been to the Alps, she been on the slimy lime of the Belgian river crags, she's had a go at the God's Own Stone - Grit (and hated it...no jugs...)...she is definately getting the hang of this leading thing...but today we find her on Saddle Head. Beautiful sea cliff of whitest, purest, roughest most lovely sharp and sexy limestone, washed clean by the scourge of the waves and the wind....the sun is shining, the rock is just warm enough not to sweat too much, the sea is glinting, even the seagulls are friendly ...(blechhh...enough!!)...
No shit, so there I am about 50 feet up this gorgeous VS (Very Severe or about...oh I don't know the American grade...easier than 5.10 anyway...) steep but juggy...lovely rock...(oops there I go again...) I come to a nice little overlap/bulge thing and I've got LOTS of gear...all my brand new rock 6 and 7's...and the bulge is nice and bulgy so I'm not going to hit anything and I think to myself..."Well now, this is a good day to start learning to fall off onto stonker gear...dontcha' think?" and as I am heartily agreeing with myself and looking again at the two massively solid Rocks either side of me, making for a very nice baby bouncer indeed, I am scrunching myself up to take a nice little plop onto the gear...I'm a little nervous, but hey, that's normal right, it's a bit counter-intuitive to go letting go of the rock you have just been working very hard on staying attached to. So I'm all psyched up and I'm all about ready to jump and I call down to Phillipa..."I'm just going to jump off here to get used to it and all..."...She grunts up and I...am...lettinggg....ggooooo....and-in-the-very-last-millisecond before-my-hand-leaves-the-rock I glance down casually to smile broadly at Phlip...and the grin freezes on my face and my teeth nearly splinter and crack as I espy my trusty belayer lying on her back, 20 feet away from the base of the route, the rope between her pinkie and ring finger, idly fiddling in the sun and with a loop of slack...trailing...and I mean trailing....along the ground to the vertically bit that I am currently in the process of letting go of...
Adrenalin stabs me half to death as I french kiss the hard white sharp stuff, the amount of body contact must have been illegal to display in public...I snap into that rock and up over that bulge in a fit of muscular contraction that would have made a wus (colloquial English term for wimp) out of the Incredible Hulk...
I look down from my perch on the route which has now become about 5 grades harder in one moment, I am too beside myself to talk or even to spit...Eventually I croak..."Could you take in a little..."...She says "Yeah sure"...and pulls in a few feet of slack in a desultory sort of a way...I very very carefully solo the rest of the route. (It was easy really)...and top out...tie myself to a HUGE steel post embedded in a HUGE concrete block and bring Phlip up...she is smiling when she tops out..."That bulge was a little tricky" she says...I smile...and coil the ropes....
Epilogue: Philippa later decks out off a poxy little Severe at Malham, never even put one piece of gear in...she then took up drinking a lot and not climbing very much at all...
So how was that for a start....? I think I'll call it: "Philippa, A cautionary Tale of a remarkably stupid young girl".....or... "Always make sure your belayer actually has measurable brain activity before jumping off..."
More to come...my friends...more to come...including:
My Main Page
Don't step on my rope....
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