Wrap Up

Bloody hell! Where did the last couple of months go? Our lack of crushing has not been without good reasons.

So what has been happening.........in a nut shell please?

After Melbourne's crazy heatwave in early spring, the A-Team took a break from training, and started doing normal people stuff, like going out, drinking, spending money on shit we don't need. Around the same time I also had my final exams for Uni, so it was a good time to take some time off. Since then my housemates and I have been evicted from Rathdowne Street.....of course a munty eviction party was in order. The Armageddon on Rathdowne party was the highlight of the spring carnival season. Following this, Al and I both found ourselves very distracted with girls, myself not venturing out of the house for 2 weeks.....needless to say, climbing was the last thing on my mind. Recently due to losing a battle in court, worthy of Napoleon himself, well actually it was only an hour and I didn't really get sweaty or anything, I've since taken a job with an outdoor retailer. My role (only 1 month contract) was to set up a new Kathmandu store on Chapel St, followers of our blog my remember this street is to me what good writing is too teenage vampire swoon flicks, incompatible. Drop in, its great, no air conditioning, and a cupboard full of faulty products returned, and only after 10 days of open trade.

Well ok, so here's something about climbing......Al is still taking a break and Phil is fully injured again. Man, if Phil wasn't so hairy I'd wrap him in cotton wool.....oh wait, actually he's shaved his chest just the other day. Looking hot mate! Myself, well I'm actually off to Thailand on Friday night.

Thailand - the one climbing/vacation destination I'd thought I'd never visit. Couple of reasons; I don't consider myself a "tourist" in fact I hate them.....yes this made talking to Kathmandu customers an exercise in tollerance, something I have very little off for idiots. Secondly, Thailand seems to be a place where everyone goes climbing. What I mean by that is, people who climb who aren't climbers (I refer to such people not with distain but merely observation - like if I was to go surfing I wouldn't call myself a surfer -kinda thing yeah?) seem to have climbed there. Then there is a bunch of people in their own sub category - those who thing Thai fisherman pants are cool, and where them to the gym....fuck off, they look stupid, mainly cause you ain't Thai or a fisherman. The rock is limestone, and due to the humidity and the traffic (human of course) it is polished. This sounds awfully similar to a place I wish I hadn't spent much time, El Chorro in southern Spain. Not only were the grades soggy, but the place was full of English Geezer wannabes. Both El Chorro and Thailand are what I've considered 'Climbing Holiday' destinations as opposed to a climbing destination.

That said, before you all jump up and down and say, ' you are an idiot, how can you comment on a place you haven't been to?' or 'fisherman pants are cool', I'll say you're right, except the douchebag with the pants comment. Regardless of the reasons I've never gone over, I'm actually really excited about going to a "holiday climbing" spot for 3 and a half weeks. I need a holiday. I haven't been away since my Castle Hill trip in '07, with good reasons...mainly accident last year and no money. So I'm heading over with Kent "KP" Patterson, and a couple of girls Alex and Rachel from the Munt crew. Of the group I'm the only one who wasn't been there, and as of today, Wednesday I'm pretty psyched. I have spoken to mates (Philby, Patty Turner, and Timmy Le) and have got an idea of routes I wanna try. Apart from the climbing I'm just psyched on getting outta melbourne, and lounging around on the beach (this is a new concept to me - tourism shit). Anyway should be good, and i'll let you know how it goes.

Ok guys, so 2009 has been good for some, and not for others. Some projects were ticked, others still wait. Douchebags were named and shamed, internet slaging wars were fought through chockstone, facebook and some dating site I wont' mention....there were no winners. So merry Christmas, that is if you celebrate it, and Have a great New Year. 2010 will be a great year for Victorian climbing, can feel it in me bones!

Peace out guys!

- Grosey

Where did Spring Go?

Well again I haven't be very active on our bloggy log.

Ok, it has come to my attention that Victoria has been denied one of our seasons. Spring is no longer, or better still, never was. What is the deal with that? One week of fine weather does not constitute a season. Wet winter now heatwave with Horsham topping the 40 degree mark already. Normally I would still head out and have a crack....last summer Nick Sutter and I were out climbing on the infamous 'Black Saturday'...of course had we known it was going to be that bad we'd probably stayed home. That said, I'm now over it....perhaps its the heat and I'm just not used to it. It could also have something to do with Uni continuing to shaft me like Lex Steele, with placements spread all over the state and over a time period double what was originally put. Or maybe its cause we're getting evicted and I have to move out in the next couple of days.

Well enough bitching like I have wet panties...Good news I'm off to Thailand. Never thought I'd go over there, just seems like a tourist climbing destination somewhat like El Chorro in Spain, which was good for a day and only in any area that was 40 mins drive from town, Desplomilandia (spelling??). It was a spur of the moment decision and I'm sure as with most of my impulsive choices this will work out to be awesome. I'm heading over with Kent 'KP' Patterson, and some of Team Munt. A few weeks of climbing and lying on the beach, and a week of partying hard (not full moon but some sweet Psytrance party on Koh Tao) will be good for me before starting my real job at the end of January. Sick, I'm psyched.

Ok, well I'm going to get back to packing and I guess sunbaking, as they're the only useful/useless things I can do in this heat.

- Grosey

Sick again....

So why am I sitting here on a Tuesday when I should be off at the daily grind of work? I'm sick, thats why. I hate this feeling. This is my second week off training. I decided to take 2 weeks off to rest my body and renew some motivation. I was feeling broken and exhausted, work was slamming me, and I'd not had a weekend at home resting for quite a while. So 2 weeks chilling, soothing sore muscles was going to be the plan. All I want to do now is get back in the gym to train and get fit for routes. Finger still feels a bit iffy, but it should be fine.

But a big weekend out with mates has meant I've pulled up rather shit, I think its the flu. Damn! So after I could barely drag my sorry ass from bed at 4am this morning, I called in sick and have speant the majority of the day in my room watching TV episodes and trawling climbing sites.

Which is why I'm posting this video. I came across it in my time wasting, and thought it was great. It goes for about 26 minutes, but I found it heaps motivating. Hopefully it gets some of you guys out there a bit psyched too. Enjoy.

Obsession from Chris Doyle on Vimeo.

Al

Oktoberfest

Well not much beer in this post, sorry.

This post will be short and sweet......hopefully.

What's been happening in the world of Victoria's most laudable (or is that laughable) climbing coterie?

Heaps....

First up we've ended the winter with another bouldering trip, this time for photos for Dave and Chris' new bouldering guide book. This basically involved running around between three areas trying lots of problems in the middle grades trying to look good, something we are accustomed to. During this time, I managed the second ascent of Mexican Delight, a 4 move wonder that punches through a steep little roof. Ol' Vinny Day opened this problem a few weeks ago, giving it a V9 grade. In the same area of Anderson's, Phil did Rodeo Girl, V8. Another little roof problem which utilises to hooks and a bit of core. I was also able to use my lank to flash this problem.


Here is a shot of Al on his V6, aptly named Pebble Slab. And one of me on Mexican Delight, courtesy of Justin Power.




For more photos visit.
http://jpower.smugmug.com/Sports/Climbing/7914026_NjHcW#513344089_unQst

Or Wait for the Guidebook or next issue of Rock to come out, choice is yours.

When the weather warms up its time to hit the routes again. Last weekend was a lot of fun....mainly cause it had been so long since I'd clipped the chains on anything I'd almost forgotten how to do it. After pulling a hissy fit a few weeks ago (falling from the last moves of things cause you're stupidly pumped sucks), I managed to give ammunition to those calling me the new Greg Norman. I pretty much let go on the last section of Academia, 31 on Spurt Wall.


Fortunently I am putting those claims on the back burner for at least another week, as I got my arse up that thing on the last go of the day (most likely forever). This route is basically a boulder problem for 3 bolts worth of climbing then an easier top two thirds, and it's pretty burly. In fact when I was a mere pumper a couple of years ago when I first thought of trying it, I couldn't do more than 3 moves of the ground. Since then, I've had some time away from climbing, both in general and routes, and as a result have gotten a bit stronger. To fall off at the top because I was pumped just highlights that if you have to focus all parts of climbing to get up routes, not just your biceps. Sweet, so now that Academia is done I can move on to other things....mainly Samosa and my new projects that I bolted over winter.....Oh yeah, I've pretty much finished uni now, so hopefully when I start on road as an Ambo, I'll have some more time/funds to get away climbing even more - Psyched!!

Ok, now it's time for some gym training......catch ya soon




- Grosey

The Eagles Nest video finally up!!!

So I finally got the footage off Omar and put it up on You Tube. Thanks to everyone there on the day. I did this problem back in July. Still awaits a second ascent. Any takers? Put your hand up if you like mingn' crimps!

We had another successful weekend away bouldering and climbing too, but I'll let Phil and Joshy upload their photos and post something this time.

Enjoy - Al

Spooging/Spitting/Swearing/Sending/Spurting

Hi all. Hopefully by now you have finished reading the encyclopedia of European climbing as written by Pleb. Shit! It was like a weekender bender getting through that thing! Top read though, sounds like shes having a good time, all despite traveling with Tasmanians, hanging out with Frenchies and playing ninja games with the sun.

So, what's been happening for the team the last few weeks? More climbing of course! What else could there be going on? Life? Bah!

So 2 weeks ago Omar and I blasted our way out of the city for a weekend out on the rock. I'd just finished another 50hr week, and Omar had just got his beloved van back from the mechanics. To say we were happy to be "blowing this popsicle stand" was an understatement. Try "lets fuck this puppy and go climbing bitches!" An exciting ride was ahead of us, including tailgating trucks, poorly sealed doors, 60km winds blowing us from one side of the hwy to the other, and blowing a radiator hose just past the Big Koala!

Wake to a cloudy, wet morning, and a feeling of distrust towards the Bureau of Meterologies forcast of fine and 25 degrees. Sun however did become all too apparent soon enough, along with the dreaded Spurt Wall Spooge! Hot and humid was the flavour of the day. Despite the conditions, Omar knocked off his long time nemesis route Menstrual as Anything (25) with ease, and had a good crack on Weak Boy (26) doing all the moves easily. I ran a lap on Menstrual as well, being one of my favourite routes there, did Weak Boy and finally completed This Spurting Life (26) after falling off the last moves many years ago. By days end, we were all totally fucked, barely able to talk on the walk out or back at camp. We were all still in T shirts long after sunset.....whats up with that!? 24 hours prior it was downies and thermals weather!

So the next day we hit up Kindergarden, where Omar smashed his other project Flash Gordon (V8). This is one persistent Mexcian, having fallen off the last move many, many times. See the video below. I once again managed to fall off Gripmaster (V10), this time on
THE last move. Its staring to become a bit of a mind fuck, the amount of times I've fallen off this thing so close to the tick. But I did manage to do all the move on So You Think You Can Dance (V11) which was a bit of suprise. I wonder how many times I'll fall of that on the last move before I do it...... Other ticks for the day was an FA of Mexican Delight (V9) by Vince Day, a rad 3 move steep pocket problem, and the FA of Pebble Slab (V6) by myself. Both in Andersons. This place just keeps giving!

So come to last Saturday, just a few days ago. Josh and I head out for an epic day trip to Spurt Wall. Leaving at 6am, we were on the wall in good time. I warmed up by putting the draws on Tyranny (29), then pumped off 2 moves short of the chains before sending next shot, having had a couple of goes a few months back. Good fun route, nothing super hard, just big moves between big slopers and flatters. I had a lash on Lifestyling (30) later that day, and in the spoogey sunshine got as far as the crux.... HAHAHA! This route is soooo awesome, and I can wait to get a bit of fitness up and get back on this sucka!!

Poor old Josh though. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, its just not the right day to send. Quick update for those of you not in the know, Josh had been working Academia (31) before, over, and after Easter, having come so close to sticking the last move of the second crux section, which is at the second bolt, time and time again. After that, its about 23 to the top. Fastforward to this particular Saturday, and after bouts of swine flu, finger injuries, tendonitis and brain damage due to too much studying, mixed in with mass amounts of training, Joshy pulls the crux of the route, only to fall just 1 move shy of the jug and chains!!! Needless to say, expletives rained forth. On the upside though mate, you pulled the crux for the first time on link, and with a bit of witness the fitness, it'll go down!

So thats about it for us at the moment. I'm having next weekend off. I'm pretty exhausted after the pattern of working stupid hours during the week and climbing all weekend for the last couple of months. Its been great to get out climbing heaps, but I miss sleeping in on a Saturday!

Omar on Flash Gordon, V8



Like, um, yeah, whatever....

- TheBigAl

The second best cliff in the world.

It has been speculated that Ceuse is the best sport climbing cliff in the world. And you’re living under a rock (no pun intended) if you haven’t heard of it, or seen pictures of its stunning cliff line, or heard of that route-what is it called again? Biographie? No- Realisation. Done by that guy. Ah, yelling Americano. Sharma or something?

I was pretty psyched. Psyched to check it out and see what all the hype was about. Firstly however, on the way to Ceuse I thought it would be nice to have a shower in Gap, in case we didn’t want to pay for camping. The solution was to find a public swimming pool. To our confusement (that’s confusing and amazement in one), it was regulatory for males to swim in budgy smugglers. So that ruled Doug out, he only had boardies…odd huh? Anyway, so my French isn’t so good and we somehow, conveniently, got pointed in the direction of showers for free- much better than 10E. So I say to Doug, “meet you outside once I’m done” and walk off. Then we both walk in the direction of what we thought were our respective gender specific showers and stop; side by side. I found myself looking at everyone- males, females, toddlers, grandmas, teenagers, dogs (ok, no dogs, we’re not in Spain yet)- showering together. Omg. There were communal showers for everyone to shower together, as one happy family. To my relief, budgy smugglers and bikinis stayed on. Didn’t stop the men putting their hands down for a quick rinse though! Only in France.

The walk- the test of all sport climbers’ pin thin legs.
“The walk” was a common topic associated with Ceuse climbing conversations. Nearly every time there was talk of Ceuse, someone would proclaim, “that damned walk” and curse it for a couple moments or more. “It’s so hot walking up! It’s all uphill! My knees got so sore! My hips! My legs!” Et cetera. I was warned and warned. So naturally, I expected the worst. I expected the walk to The Gallery but for an hour and to do it almost every day for a month plus, not just a weekend. And I think that’s the best way to approach it. Know that it’s going to take 40min if you’re fit and wanting to listen to some pumpy music and go go go. If not, and you want to walk and talk, it is a standard 50min or so, depending on how far along the cliff you go. Accept that the walk and climbing go hand in hand. And if you don’t want to walk, then ultimately you don’t want to climb. But I did want to climb, so I walked. No one warned me about the walk down however. It was the walk down in the dark at 9pm that tested my limited patience after a 6am start. Fun in the ‘Dictionary of Andrea’ is not defined as stumbling along a rocky, narrow, tree rooted, and sometimes wet track with a headtorch in desperate need of new batteries. Conversely, fun can be described as running downhill while the track is dry and visible. Until you build up too much speed and don’t make it around the corner effectively- to find yourself having stabbed your chin into a tree and bleeding everywhere….
It also wasnt fun if, like on my last day, you walk along a steep gravel part of the direct route, about five mins from the base, and slip. Stupidly, I put my hand down and tore myself a sweet flapper. Good thing I was leaving that night, and heading to the city!

There was one day I almost went crazy walking up. It was my third last day and I didn’t want to walk. It was hot. And I was tired. And the psych had dwindled to a big trickle of sweat. I stood at the bottom, and said “I don’t want to walk up this hill today”. And as I embarked the direct route from the forest, words such as, “this is meant to get easier! I hate this damned direct route! Eh grumble grumble…” came about. And that was the biggest mistake I could have made, because it took over an hour that day to get to Demi Lune wall. I arrived grumpy and agitated. Sorry Doug! Luckily, I had a sweet day on the rock which made the last two days immensely easier.

Sun Vs. Shade.
I had never discussed climbing weather tactics so much in my life. Usually, I love the sun. But in Ceuse, I detested the sun with an unforgiving passion. It was like there were 4 microhabitats within each day. There was a whole different season in the sun versus the shade at camp, and sun versus shade at the crag.

I found myself waking up at 6am on mornings I wanted to climb at La Cascade, struggling to get out of bed because it was cold out. Thirty minutes later, I was sweating in shorts and singlet walking up the hill. One hour later, I would be wearing gloves and downjacket while belaying, in hope of keeping warm to climb. Then the sun would come out to play at about 12pm. And I would have sunglasses on, shorts and crop top struggling to see my climber on the cliff because it was so hot and shiny. I would then retreat to the shade, and eat some lunch with a jumper on. Then the walk of justice to the other side of the cliff (Berlin, Demi Lune, Biographie, etc). Walking from La Cascade can often be misconceived as a mere, ‘walk around the corner’. An Estonian friend of mine claimed it took five, maybe 10 minutes (he also claimed it took him 30 minutes to the crag each day). However, don’t be fooled by this ‘walk around the corner’ trap. This walk is below the cliffline, so it is like a suntrap. It has no shade from the trees, or cliff, and is usually done between one and four in the afternoon, so it’s prime skin cancer rays time. I still don’t know exactly how long it takes because I would embark without thinking it was far enough to validate timing. But as you walk, with all your gear, in the sun, looking at the heat rise from the yellow grass in the distance, you can’t help but feel like you are in the desert, as opposed to the Alps. Then, once the shade hits at about 4pm, the rock cools (eventually) and you prepare for microhabitat 10 of the day. Downjackets and pants back on till dark- 9pm. Then the walk/run/stumble down in t-shirt weather.

If you don’t do a morning session, just evening, you walk from base at 3pm and sweat like a feral farm pig (do pigs even sweat??). Meanwhile, you sit at camp twiddling your thumbs getting bored. Psyching yourself out of the climb that you fell at the last bolt on yesterday. Or getting frustrated that you will probably only tie in 4 times that day due to only having 5 hours of shade/daylight. One to warm up, maybe a moderate climb next, then two goes on a ‘hard’ route. Then stumble back in the dark.


Ethics of route sharing on the battle ground.
Of course the “best sport climbing crag in the world” is going to be packed to the brim right!? Peak season at Ceuse is Summer- July to August. The high altitude means this is the best time to climb at Ceuse, and everywhere else is too hot. So therefore, is apparently the only place to sport climb in all of Europe. Or at least that’s what it felt like- 12 months of usual traffic in 2 months. This is when every loud American, reserved Polish (yet tried to make friends with me, thinking I was Polish from my number plate), ‘Auf gitz!’ German, French (need I say more?), mulleted Spanish (and their dog), cheery Italian, and whoever else, were trying the same route as me.

I am from Melbourne- a place where my local crag is The Grampians, a four hour drive away. I am from Melbourne- a place where I really struggle to find a climbing partner for just two days mid week. A place where you often know most people at the campsite, if there is anyone else there in the first place. A place where everyone sits around camp at night, drinking wine and laughing away. It’s common to park your car and see maybe one more, a walker’s car. A place where while you walk to the crag, are surprised if you hear voices already there. Weekend or weekday. Irregardless of perfect weather. At The Gallery. Or Muiline. Or even the highly regarded, Taipan Wall. If you really wanted, you could try your project 10 times in one day (whether it’s productive or not, that’s not the point). Often your physical fatigue and skin are the limiting factors of attempts.

Ceuse is in a completely different library, let alone page of the same book. The campsite had up to maybe 100 people on the busiest nights. But you wouldn’t guess it if you had a blindfold on. There are tents, cars and vans everywhere and people- quietly lurking around. During the day, people at camp read and rest. Ultimate goal is to preserve energy. Occasionally there is a short slackline session, until the male campsite owner orders something in French, to the desired effect of the slackline being dismantled. At night, there is nobody around till 10pm. Prior to that, everyone is desperately trying to get a third attempt in before its dark. Soon after, there is the dull sizzle of food being cooked on stoves and silent whispers. Sport climbers are a serious bunch- especially Ceuse climbers. Once food is cooked and eaten, recovery begins for their next project attempt. Straight to bed.

Chris, a friend I made in the Frankenjura, turned “21” while we were in Ceuse. This girl made many friends over her two months plus visit. So, night of her birthday she invited everyone around to her trailer trash caravan. People sat and stood around, drinking, talking, laughing and eating birthday cake. Nothing outrageous. However, come 11pm nearby campers broke up the happiness. It wasn’t quite as abrupt as mallets or hammers to the head. But a polite, civilised ‘sport climbers- I need to rest’ complaint was sufficient. They weren’t from NSW.

I soon discovered if I wanted to climb anything at La Cascade I had to wake up at 6am. This allowed enough time to arrive at the crag at 8am, warm-up and have two attempts of a new route/project of my choice, in the shade. Otherwise, the only routes free would be above 8a+ (I’m not that turbo- yet) or something that didn’t appeal. Or climb in the scorching sun. It was an unbelievable site, to see 20 people stitched along the one wall at any one time just as the sun was settling in on the crag.

‘Around the corner’, Demi Lune, Berlin et cetera, tactics weren’t so easy. There were a lot more people to contend with than at La Cascade, meaning options were limited. And even if you were on your route of choice, Bloke One, Two and Three would ask if they can go after you. Which is fine, if it were an ideal world and I did everything in one shot. But I don’t live in an ideal world. Let’s give you a typical scenario:

Doug and I walked over from La Cascade to Berlin and were the first to sit under a route called Blocage Violent 7b+, and wait for the shade. This route had always had a party on it, and a party waiting, so we never bothered. But today we were early, and it was just us until Doug was ready for his first attempt. And as he climbed, the masses swooped in. Just like climbers swooping in for free booty left by bumblies at Araps over Easter. It was easy for me to say “I am climbing next”. That’s easy to accept. But what made things complicated was, Doug fell near the top. So obviously, would want to try again after me. But then, here are the questions I still need answered:
- When does Bloke One go?
- After me?
- After Doug’s second go?
- What if I fall?
- Do they go after me if they asked while Doug was climbing?
- What if they ask while I was climbing?
- Does it depend on if they are dogging? Or a redpoint attempt?
- What about Bloke Two?
- Do they go after Bloke One?
- Or after Doug and I try a second time?
- Or do they bugger off and try a different route?


So in this aforementioned situation, I fell. And Doug had tied in and was chalking up for his second attempt after me. No one had asked to go next, until now. A Frenchie, came over and the conversation went something like this:
Frenchie: Can I climb now?
Doug: Now? No. I am about to climb.
Frenchie: And after you?
Doug: Well, no. Maybe after her (me).
Frenchie: I will be quick, I just want to warm-up. I will only go halfway.
Doug: Well, after we go you can.
Frenchie: Usually, people take it in turns. I will be quick, just a warm-up for me. It is very busy, nothing is free and this route is very beautiful.
Doug: Yes we know it is busy. We have waited 2 weeks to get on this route. That’s why after I go, and her (me), then you can go. That is taking it in turns isn’t it? Or you can try something else. If it just a warm-up, you can try anything?
Frenchie: blah blah….walks away.

Hmm. So I am still confused as to whether we were being irrational? Or rude? Or that’s fair?
Usually, I like sharing. My parents brought me up well. You can share beta, get more rest, sit and relax, blah blah. But, as you may have picked up, climbing in Ceuse with good conditions is limited. It is limited by shade, sun, rock heat, darkness, fatigue and other people. If you let them go, your second attempt is in the sun. Or, you have waited so long your fingers are numb. Or it’s dark. I felt like a mere country girl in a big city- a mere Grampians climber in the big bad world of Ceuse.

WC- Toilette- Lavatory- Toilet- Footpath.
It’s a sensitive topic, but I am going to go there. In brief, Europe crags are feral. Never have I come across such inconsiderate, foul, hygiene habits. On numerous occasions I found myself walking along the main path to the crag, looking down at brown smeared toilet paper. Or puddles of piss. Or the worst bit, sanitary napkins! Why not take one step to the side to pee? Or sometimes I would accidently take what I thought was a path to another part of the cliff, to find myself at the “toilet”. There is no hole digging, hardly any distance from the crag, or discretion with amount of toilet paper used. My favourite was a pile of toilet paper sticking out from under one of those starting, height disadvantaged-cheating rocks, under a climb at La Cascade. Yummy.


To project or not to project?
I was torn on whether or not I should project something hard. In the previous month, the most I had tried anything was four goes in one day. Everything else, was usually within two, sometimes three attempts. But I thought seeing as I would be in Ceuse for a long period of time, I should ‘project.’ But I decided not for at least the first few days. First few days were dedicated to familiarizing myself with the cliff. No demoralizing- similar to Italy shut downs.

I must admit, I don’t know much about the outside climbing world- the kind of stuff you read in magazines, watch on dvds, talk on forums about, et cetera. I have no idea who the big names of climbing are or many famous routes. All I knew was that Realisation was at Ceuse, but I thought I might leave that for my next trip. Baby steps.

Helen Day briefly wrote me a list of things to try, which was inclusive of the routes ‘Mirage’ 7c+ and ‘Carte Blanche’ 8a. I also had a UK friend ‘oohh and ahh’ over Carte Blanche. So, as I arrived I thought I may as well try it. I made one goal- to do this one route. I had theoretically done two 8a’s before. So why not one in Ceuse too?

Second day there, a friend was trying Mirage. So despite Doug and I agreeing not to try anything hard for at least a few days, we caved in. This 25m beautifully long route, as the name suggests, is quite deceiving. It fools you into thinking you are close to sending, until you peel off at the very end. I saw half a dozen guys (never saw a female on it) fall at the last bolt. It starts as a roof, straightens up, and then gives you massive jugs to prepare for the finish, which is steeper, thinner and more sequency. This route took five attempts (three days), a lot more than I initially thought it would….

Two weeks later, Doug and I had our first attempts on Carte Blanche. The start of this route is really steep and bouldery and quite honestly, ugly. We had no beta- hadn’t watched anyone on it and were feeling less than fresh after climbing the day before. Doug went first and made it to the second bolt, cursed a bit then lowered off. I went next, got to the same spot, cursed a bit, then lowered off. Doug went next, dogged to the third bolt, cursed a bit more, then bailed. I went next, dogged to the fourth bolt, cursed more, then bailed. At sunset, we managed to get to the fourth bolt- the crux. Yet, the first 3 bolts felt utterly desperate. During the walk down there was a long philosophical talk on satisfaction of onsighting vs. projecting the hell out of something. It was over a week until we decided to get back on it. I had one go, got too frustrated, and cleaned my draws off. Again, you will not find fun in the ‘Dictionary of Andrea’ described as getting my arse absolutely wooped! This route felt utterly unattainable within a practical amount of time. I proclaimed it too hard to do within three fresh days and would prefer to do three new routes.

Over the next two weeks I ticked a couple of 7c’s and 7c+’s. There was another route that caught my interest however. Bourinator 8a- translation from French is meant to mean something to the effect of ugly, powerful and burly- perfect style for me! Hah! I saw a few people on it and heard a lot of talk about it. I think the trigger for me wanting to do this route was my friend, Jurgen. Jurgen jokes a lot, and I find him hilarious. But, I know there is a slight truth to his jokes. Eg. He idolizes Chris Sharma and anyone who climbs hard. He jokingly said he categorises everyone he meets into ‘grades’- 7a, 7b, 7c, 8a, 8b and anything more is praiseworthy. Don’t get me wrong, he has no discrimination towards ‘weaker’ climbers, just, more respect for those that crush 9a!
Anyway, one night over some wine, Jonas, a German friend who was trying Bourinator, mentioned he had only seen one girl try this route before. In result, Jurgen joked it was because women have less power, very obviously implying I wouldn’t be able to do it. Challenge accepted and dispatched in three days!

This route opened the dusty rotting cupboard of Carte Blanche again. It was a rest day, and I had three more days left in Ceuse. So Doug and I had another philosophical conversation deep into the night, over whether or not we should try Carte Blanche again, or a few easier routes. After much deliberation, I decided to risk the possibility of failure. Three days to send a route I had previously filed into the impossible folder…

This time, we had done our homework. Over the previous few weeks, we watched people on the route and asked anyone who had done it; how to do it. I had never passed the crux before, because I got too demoralized by the beginning to care. But word on the street was that after the crux, it’s sustained, pumpy, and cool. I could do sustained, pumpy and cool! So Doug came up with a brilliant idea; pull through the first two bolts, figure out the crux, and suss out the top. And that’s what I did. I figured out the crux move third go, and nailed a good sequence for the last bolt (because I saw two people fall there that very same day). Then second attempt, I did the route with one sit, linking from the crux to the top. Sweet! All hope was not lost. There was no way I was coming off at the top.

That night, there was more deliberation- rest tomorrow then crush the day I leave? But what if I don’t do it and have to leave? Or, just try it tomorrow and hope for the best. And if not, then I still have day three? But then, on day three, I will probably be too tired if I couldn’t even do it second day? Oh the stress!

Decision was made, and I walked up the next day. But my head was a mess and I fell at the crux twice, and then it got dark. I was a silent, angry, stressed ball ready to explode! I walked down in silence, mind racing as fast as a Tour Du France cyclists’ downhill wheels. That night I ate in silence, ate almost a block of chocolate then went to bed. And as I drew the crazy psychedelic Ikea curtains of my van, I remembered how much I loved life. I remembered how every night, as I close those curtains, I feel like a child in my very own cubby house, and the biggest grin is plastered on my face. So, poof! The stress was gone and I woke up feeling like a monk post meditation session.

While I warmed up for my last day at Ceuse, I knew my body was tired, third day on. My usual warm-up, Lapinerie 7b, felt tough today. I knew I only had one good go in me to accomplish my one goal, any more attempts would be useless. So I gave it my absolute all. There were about five instances I thought I was peeling off along the way. But at each semi-rest I pretty much talked to myself, and psyched myself up for the next semi-rest. Section by section, I held on. Until I got to the sequence at the top which I supposedly had wired. I missed a footer in my exhaustion, cut loose on a crossover on small crimps, regained my feet then went for the jug for glory- and missed it. I lowered down, packed up my gear and carried it down to pack for Paris.


The first route to bring me to tears.
‘Ténéré’ 7c+ is a route at La Cascade, a steep cliff typically involving big moves on big holds. This route follows a beautiful orange streak just to the left of Mirage. It starts as a roof, straightens out on massive jugs then finishes over a small roof that then slabs out. I heard the crux was the roof at the top, a typical footless mantle type scenario on small holds. But on my first day, I found three more cruxes. Ape like moves to handle bars, bar one. One angled throw to the sharpest pocket I have held in all of Ceuse (exclusive of Frankenjura). I didn’t like my chances. I am not a big person. In fact, some people may go as far as to call me, short. I watched a tall guy on this route, and the moves were nothing. But as I tried it, in my head it was “one, two, three, LAUNCH!”, then this same process 2 more times, and then the crux to finish. But, I was determined to do. Because I found it hard (again, I hadn’t seen any girls on it) and it was the line of the crag. Second day/fifth go, I launched my way up. And that sharp pocket gave me a nasty blood blister, popping while topping out. That pocket almost made me cry.

One route did however, make me cry like a spoilt little child who wasn’t allowed a lollypop- “Le privilege du serpent” 7c+ . On my flash attempt, I got to the second last bolt. I then got to the very same spot on my second attempt. Then third. Then fourth. Sheer frustration! I pulled straight back on and tried to go to the top. Beta was, don’t clip the last bolt, just go straight to the anchors. But by my fourth go, my arms were….weak. I went for the jug, fell, grabbed the rope, then punched myself in the nose as the rope went tight. ARGH! I felt so dumb, inefficient and shit. And, my nose hurt! So, for the first time ever, I cried over climbing. Maybe I care more than I used to? Or maybe I expect more? Maybe both. Or, my nose just hurt?

Onsight of my career.
I don’t like slabs. In fact, on occasion I have claimed to hate slabs and believe I am terrible at them. But, as a dedicated triathlete of climbing, one must embrace all forms of each element mustn’t they? There was one blank face at Berlin Wall, which looked amazing from a distance, and from below. This route was ‘Cent Potates’ 7b+ (26 right?), and I onsighted it in one hour. And I puff my chest out to everyone over this claim!! It’s wicked- one of the best routes I did at Ceuse.


And on that note, á bientot! This Ceuse chapter has proven to be much longer than anticipated. Five weeks at Ceuse is the longest I have ever spent at any one crag. I suppose, in between all my whinging and whining, I secretly love this place. All except for the damn fox in the forest that stole my 1kg bag of pears! Naturally, no place is like home, but this place is pretty damn sweet.


Installment four shall come at a later date. Till then, hope you are all having fun adventures of your own!

Oh. And a ticklist of some sort. X means, I was essesntially too soft.


La Grande Face
- Inesperance 6a+/6b+/6c+/7a (third pitch is glory pitch!)

Demi Lune
- Carte Noir 6a
- Marylou 6b
- Harley Davidson 6b+
- Chant de Cristal 6b+
- Lapinerie 7b
- Minette a la plage 7c (extension of Marylou)
- X Carte Blanche 8a

La Cascade
- Des Trous (direct) 6c
- Medecine douche 6c+
- Ananda 7a
- Super mickey 7b (crux was getting through the masses to actually tie in)
- Corps estranger 7b+
- Vagabond d’occident 7c
- Blanches Fesses 7c
- Mirage 7c+
- Ténéré7c+
- Le privilege du serpent 7c+

Berlin
- Super Mario 6b
- Zagreb 6c
- X Casse- Noisette 7a+ (slab)
- X La petit illusion 7a+ (hint: not an ideal warm-up)
- X Galaxy 7b+ (worst route I tried on Berlin)
- Cent Potates 7b+
- Blocage Violent 7b+
- X Makach Walou 7c+ (tried it for one day, then realized I would rather try something else)

Un pont sur l’infini
- Gelati Dolomiti 7a
- Bourinator 8a

Les Maitres du Monde
- Bibendum 7b+
- Teuchipa 7c

Dre.

Sprechen Sie Englisch? Parla inglese? Parlez-vous anglais?

Four months in, and I am sitting in a fancy hotel in Zurich, typing up my second blog entry. I started about a month ago, but there has been alot to say. I'm still not finished but I will post what I have so far. Next installment will come soon! But, just to let people know I am still alive and still pretty lazy huh?! Or maybe I’ve just been extremely busy..

UK.
So, if you scroll back a few pages or more, I think it says I was somewhere in the country of pubs after climbing. Where they have pints of tea as much as possible and chips on the side of everything- Curry with rice and chips? How about some chips with your baked beans and cheese? And with those chips, salt and vinegar and neon mushy peas?

I ended up spending one month in the UK. And despite prior misconceptions, I loved it. The less than optimal conditions (sunny days) in the Peak District meant all those death E9’s I had in mind seemed less and less feasible by each degree above freezing. So I ended up settling for star collecting. I filled my days with classics, with 13 stars in one day at The Roaches my record. When I return to Oz, I am going to work on my new website. It’s like 8a.nu. But better. It’s based on quality of routes (stars), not the grade. So in keeping with that system, some favourites were:
- Quietus -an awful bulging roof crack at Stanage (a crag I wouldn’t drive 5 hrs to climb at)
- Fern Hill, Five finger exercise, Requiem- Classic routes at a crag called Cratcliffe.

After Sheffield, I headed to North Wales- Llanberis Pass. Here, I discovered my inner desire to become the triathlete of rockclimbing. Why should I have to discriminate between the three elements of climbing? The argument of Trad vs. Sport vs. Bouldering is old. On Sunday 7 June 2009, I trad climbed Comes the Dervish (a slate E3 slab) in the rain, bouldered my second V7/8- Cleaver Beaver, and clipped some bolts at Lower Pen Trywn. Why specialise in one, when you can be Average Joe at all three in one day!?

Noteworthy occurences in North Wales:
- Did my first V9- Jerry’s Roof (a classic roof problem on the roadside)
- Drank pints of tea at ‘possibly the best café in the world’ followed by a multipitch in the evening sun, ‘where there is no finer place to be’, resulting in having to stop mid pitch and find facilities to cope with the diuretic effects of 1L of tea.
- Saw Andy Jennings lead a trad pitch
- Belayed an impressive lead by Simon Wilson- Pretty Pink (death slate slab)

Pembroke was next. My favourite place in the UK. Amazing traditional seacliff climbing in the beautiful summer sun. A must do is ‘Bloody Sunday’. E4 6A in Huntsman’s Leap. Then, I was lucky enough to be taken to a new area being established, Gun Cliff, to play on some new routes.

Frankenjura.
The land of manky dark forests and tweaky pockets. And first bolts up to 8m off the deck. Where ‘classic’ could mean ‘alpine, potentially dangerous, special’ routes... but to make up for all of this, there were some very enjoyable routes. And even more enjoyable homemade cheesecake.

Just less than three weeks in the Frankenjura and I left feeling like a 70 yr old woman with achey fingers. The Germans are strong and hard. And my fingers and body proved to be too soft. I tweaked a finger on some lame warm up. Got scared by too many spiders in too many pockets. Got put off by too much moss covered rock. And had less than enough rest days in the preceding 2 months.
However, I like the Frankenjura. It was a challenge, and I like to think I did ok. Once you accept the place isn’t a holiday crag and are prepared to get shut down, then it’s a humbling experience. I laughed at outrageous anchors, which were single bolts I mistook for any other bolt on route. And each time I had to clip off a tiny pocket instead of a jug 10cm below, I just exclaimed “damn tall German” and thought, “at least they are bolting”. I can’t complain, because I’m not.

Funny conversation I had with a local before doing Schleimspur 9-.
Before doing this route, a typical nerd looking German with his shorts up to his chin rapped down and put draws in for a top rope. This guy had it all calculated. He had his belaying girlfriend, who seemed shocked and insulted when I asked if she were going to try it next. He had all the ‘tips’. And he had his top rope. After he went, I asked if I could try the route, and pull his rope through. He looked confused. I thought he didn’t Sprechen Sie Englisch. But he did. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Can I have a go?
Nerdy German: On my toprope?
Me: No. I can use my own rope, then thread yours back through.
Nerdy German: ahh….ok. Have you top roped it yet?
Me: No.
Nerdy German: You want to….onsight it?
Me: ahh…I suppose so.
Nerdy German: Ahhh…have you tried it before?
Me: No. So I suppose, if I do it, that would be an onsight?
Nerdy German: Ahh…do you want tips?
Me: No. It wouldn’t be an onsight then would it?
Nerdy German: Are you sure?
Me: Yes.
Nerdy German: ahhh…ok.

So I tried to onsight it. And fell. And when I got down, German had the nerve to say “Do you think, if I told you ze tips, you would have done it?” I replied with, “I don’t know”. And did it second go. No onsight, but oh well!
I must explain why this German was so concerned however. The crux was about 10m up (so about halfway). While doing the crux, the last bolt is about a metre below your feet to the right. Then, you make a few easy moves on jugs….maybe 3 more metres? Then you clip another bolt. So, if you fall at the crux it’s fine. If you fall at the next bolt, it’s not fine. This German top toped it clean 3 more times while I was there.

Some other sweet pockets pullers were:
Stromlinie 9
Sautanz 9-
Bondage 8+/9- Onsight
Bella Additione 8+. This was a very dramatic experience with almost coming off at the crux, with a bolt 2m below and to the right. After clipping in, the blue sky turned grey with dark clouds. And the rain started coming down on the cliff, coinciding with loud thunder. And as I approached the chains, the sky cleared and there was a cheer from the crowds….well. No crowd. Just me. Happy with the onsight.

City Living.
Next chapter of the trip, I went to Munich. I was feeling tired and I needed to get away from the climbing to let my body heal and recover. I got off the train in the city centre with an American (Chris, who hated the Jura). She booked a train to Ceuse and I decided to try and find a bed for the night. So I wondered the streets of Munich in the rain with all my climbing gear and found a Youth Hostel. After all, that’s what everyone my age does when they travel Europe isn’t it? Stay in Youth Hostels and party? Well. I found one, for 24 euro a night. I walked into my 6 bed dorm and took off my rainjacket and approach shoes. I put down my bags filled with draws/stove/70m rope/sleeping bag etc and said hi to my roomie. A 25yr old med student from Fitzroy. She was annoyed. She had just cut her fringe herself and it wasn’t right! Exactly what her hairdresser told her not to do. It was poking her eyes. And her eye makeup was all smudged. And all hell had broken loose. Her dress and shoes were fine though…sigh.

Travel bliss had come to a halt. I felt injured and needed to rest. But I hated the city hostel life. I thought I would stay in Munich for a week but I lasted 2 days. Randomly, I ended up going with an Americano climber to Salzburg and Vienna. These places are beautiful. We walked the streets as photo taking tourists and shared a bottle of wine on our first night in Salzburg. Then went to our dorm, and fell asleep at 9pm in our respective bunk beds. I was in the wrong frame of mind. I felt exhausted, and wanted to be climbing. But knew I shouldn’t. So instead, I was drinking every night, spending too much money on hostels and eating the cheapest shittiest food available, which are kebabs. This lifestyle is not sustainable- definately not if I wanted to be a serious triathlete of climbing.

Polski.
A country I had never placed high on my priority list of important places to spend my euro trip. But, that country name would become a common conversation topic for many months to come, and contain the most memorable moments of my trip. I needed a car. And a van was the dream. But there were issues. How do I buy a car? Who’s name would I put it under? I only speak English. And I don’t have a lot of money. There were a lot of limiting factors. But, the perfect solution (what seemed perfect at the time) was to buy a van with Tassie Doug in Poland. And put it under his broski’s name. Doug’s bro; Andy, spoke Polish and had a visa. And his girlfriend, Ania, was the missing link between me and driving to Ceuse in my mobile home.

I got a night couchette from Vienna to Krakow on the 8th July. Then on the 9th July, I met Doug, Andy and his gf, Ania. And we celebrated my birthday in one of Krakow’s finest hospitals. Andy had the pleasure of slipping off one of the world’s most polished (Pol-ished: haha! Get it?) foot holds and hit the deck. After 4 hours in the hospital for an x ray, we found out Andy had a foot. And it was sprained. We then went out for dinner at an Indian/Italian cuisine restaurant. I didn’t realise how multi cultural Poland was till then. Following this, I had a taste of what would be my favourite drink in Poland- Tatanka. Apple juice, special vodka and cinnamon. 23 and loving life.

I spent just over 2 weeks in Krakow, and saw a lot more in this country than the standard tourist or climber. Time in Poland was spent doing the following:

- Sleeping on Andy’s futon, in his room. In Poland, a standard apartment has a kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms. No living area or dining area. Just larger bedrooms, with beds that usually fold away.
- First Sunday I walked around a gravel car yard looking for a van amongst about 1000 random rusty vehicles. Meanwhile I was clutching my bag, scared of it being stolen after being warned by Ania and wandering how many of those cars were stolen.
- Climbed at the two most polished crags I have ever been to while it was 30+ degrees.
- Made up wicked boulder problems at the two local climbing gyms.
- Drank beer that was cheaper than water or non-alcoholic drinks.
- Ate amazing ice cream at least once a day, sometimes twice.
- Saw a classical pianist (who looked like he was 15) play Choppin pieces.
- Bought a blue Renault Kangoo from a fat Polish man wearing pink crocs, shorts and yellow singlet that didn’t cover much.
- Ate a 60cm diameter pizza (not by myself, but there is always next time).
- Built a bed and storage space in Castorama (massive hardware store) carpark in 30+ deg heat. We used a borrowed (shitty) drill and communal tools from within the store, or utilised their excellent return policy.
- Got curtains made at Ikea- a shop that is taking over the world and makes Andy’s favourite meatballs.
- Was invited to Ania’s family home out in the country to eat homegrown, local cuisine. Had a BBQ on the balcony in the rain. And left with homemade jam and a warm fuzzy feeling over how lovely Ania’s family is.
- Drove to about 6 mechanics to get a “MOT”; Roadworthy equivalent.

Drive out of Poland to Italy was…long. It took 6 hours due to roadworks and traffic jams, for what should have been about one hour according to Google Maps. A large proportion of the drive was at 0km/hr. This was partly due to traffic, but also the temperamental speedometer that would occasionally decide to stop working. This would all be a lot more bearable if we had the ability to choose good music, but, no. We bought the cheapest possible car stereo we could find, from a nice, but dodgy Polish guy, Konrad. So all we could do was put Doug’s ipod on random. And it would, randomly work, and not work…

Arco.
The next destination was Arco. Rumour was, there was good climbing, and the cheapest climbing gear in all of Europe. Doug and I arrived in Arco feeling like we hadn’t slept in two days and sitting in a car for even longer. So we decided not to climb that day. Just buy me a new harness (my belay loop stitching was coming apart, much to my partners dismay) and whatever other goodies I “needed”. But, we soon found out Italy is a bit like Spain in that, the streets turn to a ghost town between 12.30 and 3.30pm. All shops close, meaning no harness for me.

We decided to get the bodies moving and work our fatigue away by climbing. We didn’t have a guide, let alone an English one. But I had prior tips from Jurgen (Esther’s partner) that Laghel was good. So we went there, and it was barricaded like an army station. Well, at least an intense construction site. With “PRIVATO” and other signs to the effect of, “Keep out or else” all over. So, we waited till a shop was open, took some pics of a guide and headed to Nago. We found the cliff, but couldn’t find the track. It was amazingly frustrating seeing it and being 200m from it, but having houses and fences all around. A successful failed climbing and shopping day.

Alas, in the next few days we found some climbing at Belvedere and Nago. Okay cliffs but nothing I would fly to the other side of the world for. I would however, fly to the other side of the world for Italy itself. I love this country! The people are so joyous and friendly. The streets are small, cobbled and beautiful. This whole area is postcard worthy (or even opening scene of the new James Bond movie worthy!). The ice-cream is the best in the world. The four cheese pizza, the best in the world! Well, it’s the only four cheese pizza I have ever had, but, I can make that claim on principle of Italy being the pizza castle of the world. So, I was torn. At the end of a climbing day I was on the verge of tears after struggling on 6C+ routes and wanted to leave, yet wanted to stay for the celebratory atmosphere and vibe I got from the locals. It was a love-hate relationship.

Next was Lecco- home of a hotel that charged 10 Euros for a shower. Guess how desperate I was feeling? Anyway, on the upside, it was also the home of the best crag I went to in Italy, Nibbio. Long, nice, technical 20m plus routes in the shade all day- so perfect for the hot summer days I was getting! I did a route “McKinley”, my first 7C (third 27) second go which was a pleasant surprise. Sustained, pumpy face route and brilliant. It was relieving to leave Italy on a good note, because it was time for Ceuse....

Next Chapter coming soon- Ceuse/Paris (including Moulin Rouge with my mum) and Zurich. Stay tuned! Till then, hope you enjoyed the reading...whoever you creepy stalkers are!
Dre.

Ultra Sounds Good Right?

Right...well....its been a couple of weeks since I've posted anything so thought I'd just fill you in about what's been going on.

First up. Al's 24th Birthday Weekend. We headed up to The Mount, looking for sun, good trad-routes and girls....we found most of what we were looking for. It had been more than a year since I had climbed at Arapiles. The time before that being cut short due to a silly mistake at the anchors resulting in fall 15-18 meters to the deck in June '08. This time turned out to be more fun, although it was still a in the face. Araps can be unforgiving when you've been climbing in a gym or the Grampians for the past 6 months. Technique - well its hard to avoid the need for it, although I did manage to find a sequence for the top of The Great Escape 28 that completely avoids all kneebars! Hahahaha. This particular weekend was also the final round of the local football season, and like all finales it required a dress up party in Natimuk. As random as it was, it tuned out to be a rather fun night catching up with old mates, and making new ones. Of course, no night at Nati can be complete without some fat, ugly blokes dressing in drag. Here are some of Omar's (Slowpoke Rodridquez) photos of the night.







Fast-Forward a couple of weeks. Ol' Phil has done it again, crippled himself attempting some crazy sorta drop knee in the gym. Hopefully not too bad or too long on the side lines, cause he was looking strong and keen. Come to think of it, he does seem to get cut down in his prime like some sort of pine tree destined for Ikea a lot....maybe its all a ruse to avoid actually doing something.



Alby, Slowpoke and I headed out for some bouldering last weekend. It was fun, like climbing should be. Saturday was spent up at Iskra wall, where after pulling off a hold the size of Arnie's ego and destroying Philby's classic Compression Session - V7, I had a play on my new project. This is a direct up an orange streak in the middle of Iskra face, and its going to be wicked. After a couple of shots, both Al and I managed to do all but one move in the crux sequence - from there on should be straight forward pumping up some wicked flakes. It is the epitome of a 'technically burly' route, requiring flexible hips and minging fingers. Saturday night called for a session at campground boulders. Lit up by the Landcruisers headlights, Slowpoke got his mexican arse up Race-Eater V8, while Alby ran a quick lap on Happy Camper Traverse V9. I also got my heavy frame of the ground for an acsent of HCT in just a few shot. Sunday however was a different story. Bit of Anderson's action followed by some lame attempts at Gripmaster, all over shadowed by an increasing pain in my lateral epicondyles (tennis elbow), and flu like symptoms. Needless to say I needed to rest.


This would have to be one of the only times I can remember actually being active about taking a rest when the initial stages of fatigue and injury are setting in. The past has seen my take on a typical bogan attitude, often making things worse (see post re. pulley 2 months ago). Anyway, I didn't train all week, stretched, did some exercise for my elbows. I also borrowed an ultra sound therapy machine from Slowpoke. I have always been sceptical about this sorta thing and I am yet to be fully convinced. I had a quick session at the Lactic Factory yesterday without a flare up, so fingers crossed I can work up to full training again in the next 2 weeks.



I guess thats all until Al gets back tonight with some updates from this weekend.

Oh wait.....this is supposed to be Barry the Board's job.....but anthonyk has been awarded the 'Douchebag of the Month' Award for September.

This guy used the Chockstone forum to bag out a retailer for giving him advice about climbing shoes. Dude, you stuffed up, you took advice (completely optional) that was in my experience correct - Katanas stretch to the point of blowing out - and just because you ain't happy with YOUR decision you bitch and moan about. Get over it, sell the shoes and move on.....or start your own blog like us, cause then only the people who care about what you have to say will read about it.

For those who missed it....

http://www.chockstone.org/Forum/Forum.asp?ForumID=1&Action=Display&MessageID=75818&PagePos=&Sort=

Peace Out

- Grosey

Thursday Throwdown

I fucking hate off-the-couch climbers. You know the type. They are the ones that 12-18 months ago, you were solid training partners. Nothing could break the shackles of bond between the crew. That is, until one decides to get married, or have a baby, or get bogged down in the daily grind of "workin' for da man". All of a sudden, your group of regular dudes dwindles down to a few strong willed, dedicated soldiers. Now, I'm not saying that these are particularly BAD this to occur in ones life. Personally though, the thought of marriage and children seems like a bit of an over-commitment. One not easily backpedaled from. BUT that's just my opinion for my circumstances.....

Back to the rant. So come present day. Over the last 18 months, you have been living the monks life, abstaining from all evil, training your guts out, feeling stronger then ever. Then low and behold, said over-committers stroll back into the ring.

"Not a problem" you say to yourself. "I've been training and feel great. Time to show these chumps how we's roll now!"

But wait a minute.....whats this??

Did he just hike your project in the gym???? He's not trained properly for what.....? a year? WHAT THE FUCK!!

Low and behold, you've just been slapped by an off-the-coucher. They are easily identified by the following signs:

- They only come out into the public once a week

- Short and sharp appearances

- Always asking what you've been up to, because they haven't really seen you in 12 months

- Looks like this

















- But climbs like this




May have the following effects on you:

- Crying

- Anger

- Sulking/have a sook

- Total dedication to the art of wizardry.

YES! Through this adversity, we are driven to the edge of sanity, where we find pure enlightenment through the art of wizardry. Yes, these off-the-couchers may be stronger then you in the make believe relm of plastic, but when it comes to the rock, you know the bizzel. Kneebars, heel-toes, bicycles, sneaky thumb catches, all skills learnt through the dedicated practice of a rock wizard. And it is with these skills my followers, that a rock warrior is born, While the frustration in plastic land is evident, the mad skillz in the real world will prevail....

TheBigAl

The Boulder Files

So, its been a fair while since I posted anything, although not due to a lack of climbing. Quite the opposite. For the last 6-7 weeks, my week has been as follows - Monday: 10-12 hours at work, Tuesday: 10-12 hours at work and a bit of training, Wednesday: 10-12 hours at work and afternoon napping, Thursday: YEAH!!! just 6 hours today and more training, Friday: 8 hours and pack for climbing weekend!!!!

I've been getting out most weekends with the usual partners in crime in Josh, Phil, Slowpoke and the Scotch Finger (Andy; see video). Sadly, Andy left our sunny land for a return to depressing Scotland about a month ago. He will be missed. I think out of the last 6 weeks, I've spent 5 out on the rock, just getting out there and mostly climbing things without success. Its funny though, because I haven't been getting too hung up on ticking things. I've just been having a blast getting out on the rock, lapping up the sunshine (yes, thats right SUNSHINE!! The weather has been fucking fantastic this winter on the weekends!) and hanging out with my mates.

There are a couple of noteworthy problems to blog about. 1st is my awesome project at the new secret area of 36 Chambers. Phil put up an awesome steep problem called Compression Session that goes at about V7. But theres a RAD extension start lower down and left of the current one. This thing adds about 5 moves into the original problem, and I think will be the hardest thing I've done when it goes. There are 2 crux moves, and after 2 days on it, have stuck the first one a few times, and the second one a few more. I'm yet to link the two together though! So hard, but so good!

2nd is my little epic with Gripmaster. Man this this is beating me down!!! If you watch the video of Lee doing it that I posted, where he falls at the top before doing it..... I've fallen about 6 or 7 times the last 2 days I've tried it. But it's so close, and all I need is that one moment where everything comes together perfectly and I'll send it.

I've been taking my sisters camera out with me and when I remember about it, we turn it on and try to film some of the shenanigans. I finally got my ass into gear, somehow found some spare hours in my day, and edited a few videos for you all to enjoy.

And lastly, a quick shout out to mighty Dave Pearson, who's been living in his van in the Gramps for the last 4 months documenting with great effort, all of the boulder problems around Stapylton for a bouldering guide book he's releasing with Chris Webb-Parsons. These 2 chaps from up north have been up to no good, downgrading all our testpieces and writing up all 1600 chosspile problems in the Gramps. I think this may all just be an effort to herd visiting Euros south, and keep them from discovering all the soft ticks up in Sydney! All jokes aside, when you people out there see this guide, you will shit yourself with excitement! Get the hype machine rolling chumps! This thing is the best guide guide book I've ever seen, and if it doesn't get all the "climbers" in Melbourne out onto the rock,
then I don't know what will.

Here's a rad photo Josh took last weekend of me on Towering Inferno. Its a Saunders highball V4 at Legoland. The most terrifing/exhilarating experience I've had climbing for quite a long time.

Psytrance = RAD. Blue, furry shorts are hawt. That is all.

TheBigAl

Comments

Ok guys,

I've fixed the comments section so now we can read what you say....so go for it. We're, well at least I'm interested in what you guys think.

Sweet as Potatoes

- Grosey

Urban Crushing

Would you believe it? There is bouldering in Melbourne!

Ok now don't get too excited as its still top secret, but I can say that its not granite (Praise the lord!), 3-4m high, climbs really well and even has a few steep sections. Of course, its no gramps, but it is rock and its outside, which as we all know is pretty much non-existent in Melbs.

Some very average pics taken on my phone of a cool new problem... Just caus I like to tease.

Adios, Philby

Hammer Of Thor

Hey Fools,

Well my finger is better to a point, and I have 8 weeks to mid-semester break, therefore its time to hit the crags again.

This weekend will be the world's first glimpse at the A-Team's new WMC (weapon of mass creation) - Hammer Of Thor (pictured). Fuck yeah!!



Plus some new bouldering at a secret crag, known only as '36 Chambers'. If you don't get the reference you ain't ghetto enough to continue reading.

Stay tuned for the news of some new projects and first accents.

- Grosey

New A-Team Spring Season Range

Recently I noticed some guy with a "I Love Kneebars" T-shirt in the recent issue of Rock.....DOUCHBAG! This has inspired me to design the New A-Team Spring Clothing Range.

These items go well with all pimp hats and canes, and will make sure the bumblies know where you stand when it comes to cheating this spring.





Just bring a tee/singlet to A-Team headquaters and I'll use my laundry marker to create your custom rig. Get in while stocks last.

Some other examples: "Kneebars are Cheatbars", "I'd Rather Take a Beatin' than Put My Knee In" & "Wear The Pain, Fool".

***Text only comes in black, so make sure you don't purchase/steal a black shirt.

- Grosey

Francois & Fred visit the Grampians

So I was at the North Nowra tavern the other night chasin' some tail of questionable quality, when I bumped into this crazy local named Richie Cunningham. He claimed to be an ex Victorian hardman, but was now living the good life at what he claimed to be the best crag in Australia... South Central. Obviously this cat was deranged, but proved to be full entertaining stories about love, loss and his disdain for psytrance. He proceed to regal me with a story, which I now pass on to you for your reading pleasure. Enjoy....


Francois & Fred visit the Grampians, by Richie Cunningham

“It’s ledgy, unsustained and most importantly… boring my friend” I insisted over the phone. But Francois was not taking my recommendations seriously.

“I’m coming to Taipan wall, and that iz final” Francois fired back. Before I knew it, the dial tone rang. He had hung up on me. Just like at Brussles in 1980, I had learnt a valuable life lesson. When big Frank sets his mind to something nothing can stop him. Not even me.

It was 1992 and the birth of sport climbing in Victoria, had just occurred. Francois and his then internationally unknown accomplice Fred were about to get mixed up in the dirty underbelly that is the Victorian climbing scene. And I was there, unable to help the situation that I knew was, some would say, inevitable.

I met Francois and Fred at the mount hollow carpark. They were playing a friendly game of handball on the banks of the old quarry. I was amazed that no Melbourne scenesters had interrupted the game. Foreigners aren’t welcome around these parts. And I knew it. Coming from NZ I had learnt to cleverly disguise my accent or risk a public shaming. You can never be too careful around these parts.

“ We go rockclimbing? ” Francois politely asked, after getting yet another cracking shot past fred’s rock solid defence.

“Sure why not” I responded.

Without a moment of hesitation we threw the packs into the back of my Datsun 180B. It was a fine motor vehicle; the sort of vehicle you wish would never grow old. As we arrived at the flat rock car park I knew that something was a miss though. It was a Wednesday morning, and yet the car park was full? Sh#t felt like it was about to go down, and I sure didn’t want to be the poor fool cleaning up the mess.

Behind the bushes we heard a lady giggling. As we peered over, we saw a young stocky chap laying next to her. He must have been 10 years her junior. The gentle art of seduction is an intriguing process. We all held our breath as the blonde boy spoke. The tension was intense; it felt like we were watching a blockbuster romcom at the cinema.

Then he spoke.

“I just can’t take this anymore….” the unidentified boy pleaded.

His English was so clear. He was either from southern England or was a former Geelong grammar student. We waited for more. But nothing came. He made his move, and she succumbed to his advances.

We left the lovebirds to trudge up flat rock. Fred and Frank were completely perplexed about what had just gone down. I explained that this was considered an advanced PUA manoeuvre, and pretended to know all about it.

As we approached taipan wall, I heard a crash.

“Sacre bleaue!!” screamed Fred.

A rock had just narrowly missed him as he dashed ahead. We heard the unmistakable sound of psytrance and crazed laughter in the distance.

“Don’t worry fellas, just some jokers playing a practical joke. Happens all the time around these parts..” I stated.

This wasn’t exactly true, but I knew that calming Frank down was a good move, no matter what the situation was.

As a warm up the boys wanted to jump on a Serpentine. Fred began to explain to me in stunted English that 8a is not particularly hard in Europe, and these Aussie grades are rumoured to be unbelievably easy. Who was I to argue?

Fred set sail on pitch one clutching five quickdraws, 3 hexes and a hell of a lot of confidence. He slinked across the traverse with an ease of movement I had never seen before. His body seemed to be like a mass of water transferring momentum though each movement. Suddenly he hit a crux section. Instead of using the well trodden sloper sequence, he opted for a line of shallow monos. I must admit, that he looked quite the sight in his stubby shorts. Much like fisherman’s pants in Thailand, Fred was under the impression that all climbers in Australia wore them. He was attempting to fit into Australian society. In racist Australia, this is the best and only thing you can do.

Francoise on the other hand was a traditional frog. He subsided on a diet of Baggett’s, had a slick European hairstyle and wore white tights to the crag. We both seconded up the elementary first pitch to arrive at the small belay ledge.

Francois started the second pitch in good style. But then, it was like something switched off. His movements became less intentional and intuitive, and to be honest, he was fighting to stay on the rock.

“Yis rock, it iz too orange” he moaned.

In all my time at the cliffs I had never heard that one.

“Keep at it bro, it’s ledge to ledge climbing up there” I yelled.

He paid little attention to the encouragement.

“Ze music, I need silence” he muttered.

Blondie’s disco classic, Heart of Glass was now pumping out of the speakers from above. A party was happening at the top of Taipan at bloody 2pm on a Wednesday. A chill ran through my body. Things were apart to turn pear shaped. I could feel it in my bones.

It was obvious to all, Big frank was finding it tough going. Arriving at each higher horizontal visibly a more broken man than the last.

Now two meters from the top.

“SILENCE” he screamed. The smash hit band Chumbamumba was now absolutely cranking at this point.

“Gday mate, you like psytrance?” asked the inebriated young man, with a stubby of VB in hand.

His unkempt appearance reminded Francoise of a street fighter he had tussled with in a Venice back alley before the famous 1982 world cup qualifier.

“No, please let me finish zis rockclimb in peace” pleaded Francois.

“Listen mate, it’s me bucks weekend, and I’ll do anything I like as I’m the king of taipan, Frog!!” claimed the young man

Francois was left speechless.

The spectacled thug was about to learn why Big Frank was the 6 time world champion. Nobody messes with big frank.

Before the young fella even knew what was coming at him, Frank whipped a concealed Magnum from his white tights and unloaded 6 shots at the young punk in succession. Each bullet narrowly missing its intended target.

“Holy crap” I screamed.

A body just whizzed past me. His wirey frame was attached to a peculiar pair of fluffy blue pants, and a “Psytrance forever” t shirt.

“You killed A….” Screamed a young hooligan.

In a state of pure madness he launches his body at Francois. Unable to hold his own weight and that of the attacker from his hand jam, they both take to the air. One by one the carrot bolts popped out of there holes. And they plummet into the trees.

Both guys are instantaneously knocked out by the impact.

“F#ck let’s get outta here” I scream at Fred.

We rap with a barrage of projectiles being thrown at us. I know that if we don’t get outta here soon we’re toast.

We drag Francois away from the scene. The canopy above provides shelter from the masses of beer bottles being thrown. As we stumble past trackside I notice his knocked out attacker is sporting a strange cape and vest combination. My wandering mind can only assume that it must be the latest trend from Chapel street.

We load Frank into the trunk of the car, I turn to Fred.

“I told you it was a bad idea to come to the Grampians… you frogs are always getting yourself into trouble”

Perhaps he didn’t understand me, but he stares blankly at me, seemingly unaware of the direct consequences of our actions.

Suddenly a hand taps me on the shoulder. Expecting the worse I react.

“Hey mate, ease up… it’s your mate Martin… from Smith rocks. Don’t you remember me ?”

Indeed it was martin from Smith rocks. His luscious locks are a dead giveaway

“Hey mate, do you mind if I get a ride into town?” he politely asks.

“Yeah no worries, just get your stuff in the car quicksmart” I promptly say.


Martin begins a conversation with Fred, oblivious to the events that have unfolded today.

“So you didn’t like Taipan eh…”

I interrupt.

“No mate, just ease up on him eh ?... He has just had a bad day OK?“

Martin goes on.

“Oh you don’t say. Taipan is nothing but a photo crag anyway. Well I’ve been developing this great new secret cliff that you may be interested in. A cliff with no kneebars, no hand free rests and most importantly no f#cking psytrance allowed.”

“You don’t say? ” I enquire.

“Yep, you should pay it a visit some day, it’s called………. the Dungeon. “

Recent News

Well its all go at A-Team headquarters; bouldering, exploring, bolting and general shenanigans have been the rule of the day for the past few weeks.

Alby has been hitting the short and stout, like all good tea-tottlers stroking their teapots, and is getting close to a few of the Grampian's finest test-pieces. We're still in the process of sourcing footage/photos of his FA of The Eagle's Nest from last month.

The Big Man with Little Hands, Philby, has had some time off due to a back strain, however this has not stopped him initiating the development of a new super cave somewhere in the Southern Gramps. Sick Chad!

Not to be outdone, I've also taken the chance during my enforced break due to a pulley strain to completely let myself go. I haven't done as much as a pull up in about 3-4 weeks, and before that hadn't trained for 3-4 more. However in between eating pizza, drinking goon boxes like they were God's own elixir and walking down Chapel Street asking myself "WHY AM I HERE?" (still not sure of that one), I have managed to get up to Stapleton area and bolt a line that I'd eyed off for years. Just putting it out there - this thing is going to take me to a new level, even if I only get close to doing it. Hard is an understatement.

A-Team Friend News - Kent 'KP' Paterson dispatched his project at the Dungeon called Dungeons and Dragons 27, a minging thin balance fest with a ring finger mono, fully sick. Omar Cortes-Manzo aka. Slowpoke Rodriguez last week smashed Shanghai and Spanking the Monkey Bars both V8 on the same afternoon, shows that red beans and fried eggs in the morning does more than just cause arse hurricanes. Sutter's foot is almost free of its plaster shakle. Look out open projects, this man is now psyched.

Ok - I'm off to La Porchetta for the obligatory recover pizza following another night of weight loss (dancing stupidly to some shitty 90's house they play on Chapel St then repeating to psytrance and minimal tech in Brunswick)

- Grosey

Its cold..... So what!!! Man up FOOOOOLS!

Yup! Its Barry here. Back in cyberspace and ready to stir some shit once more! So where have I been of late you ask? PATHETIC! You're barely worthy of a response to that question to be honest! There you are, sitting back with a glass of red wine, a pair of slippers donned, waiting for your onions to caramelize like those completely hopeless, douchebag "cooks" on Masterchef do, all the while I've been working my ass off trying to get the few climbers out there man enough to brave the cold STRONG!

Thats a good thing right? The state of Victorian is in good hands at least over the winter hibernation period for all the sooks out there who deem it "too cold" to be training. BULLSHIT is say! This, my devout followers of the wood, is primo conditions for acheiving them all imporant training goals! Yet SOME out there, like the originators of this blog, believe otherwise, and have take up defence with some pretty poor excuses as to why they aren't smashing the wood like good little lumberjacks.

Grosey has been a cunning little bastard about it, and put in a lot of ground work with his "injury". I know the truth man. My cuz Eddie the Edge has been feeding me facts, Iran style. For the last 6 weeks, this punter has been complaining of a sore finger. Even going as far as failing on the warmup problems due to "pain"......sounds like a Gay Dave calf pump excuse to me punk! Maybe I should make you the new Douchbag of the month! Alas, word on the wood is that Grosey has been secretly training his 8a dead hangs at home. Conveniant! Safely hidden from the public, the occasional hang in between high scores on Wii Bowling is no training regime chump!

Now, Big Al. That skinny ass wannabe is always out there putting on a smile, not a care in the world. Seems to be doing a lot more socialising these last few weeks and not much climbing. Apparently, he's been "working" too much to train. Harden the F*** up pal! I'm hard at work all damn day trying to turn you pathetic boys into real men! Though, thats a bit of a tough ask when working with a sally like yourself! Wally the Wall (aka Wall of Justice) let me in on the scoop too my wood squeezing friends.... Big Al and Grosey totally set up that shot of Al training on the wood. Wally reckons he nearly caught on fire, given the heat from the inferno raging in the 44 gallon drum just out of shot! Plus Al could never pull that 'ard. Them boney arms are only good for hitting people in the face when falling off boulder problems!

And last but not least, Philby! The one with a woolen jumper permantly growing on his chest and arms, this so called "man" should have no excuses! Yet whats this I hear about a back injury? Again with the injury excuses! And one that even a two year old could see through. Its that those little fingers of yours have poor circulation huh? Rumour has it you you used said excuse the other weekend to not train, and instead headed towards the beach of all places looking to oil up get a tan! Newflash for you muppet! The sun don't shine in winter.... Just wood!

Then we have Sutter breaking his own foot with a rock to get out of winter training. Chris Ticknor "going home" back to the US, just as the frosts are arriving. Pleb is apparently climbing in Europe over our winter, but I have it on good authority that she's splitting her time between cheese, baguets and wine in provincial France, and hardcore Trance clubs in Berlin..... the latter of which, I'm OK with.....just.

But to those of you who have a pair and remain loyal to the wood in the coldest of times, I will reward you with the strength to smash those ming'n crimps on that desperate project of yours come spring time. Like Ultratune, I GUARANTEE IT.

Wood out.

Hot Chocolate - Yes Please!

Winter in Melbourne/Victoria can be one of the greatest tests of patience known to mankind. For the past month we've been battered with wind and rain comparable to that of a Patagonian adventure. OK, well we all know that that's an exaggeration, but it hasn't been that nice around lately. Grampians action has been severely reduced and as a result only a few things have been going down, and the training is starting to ramp up again.

Big Al has dispatched a new highball project around the corner of the Loopey's area in the Grampians. The 4th Reich (Team Deutchen) were attempting this gem by dynoing from some pockets to a jug at around 8 metres. Al laughing at such stupidity utilised some small holds in between to establish 'The Eagle's Nest' (named for height and German Soul Destruction) coming in at around V7. Nice One Al! - Stay Tuned for Dave Pearson's Photos or Slowpoke Rodriguez's Video.

The Fatman Sutter is out for another few weeks after breaking his foot bouldering/warming up at the base of Muline. Some reports have suggested that the injury was caused by an awkward landing, however COC has the real story. Nick was attempting to beat Wetnuts' rock throw record when dropped the rock on his foot. Nick's excuse is that the Patagonian winds previously mentioned, blew the 10kg chunk of sandstone back at him.

Back in Melbourne, my training is starting again after a 6 weeks off due to a pesky finger injury that won't go away. Again I've not been able to get to Nowra, 3rd year running! Both Sutter and I had planned to rip it up somewhat...yeah that's right, but alas we're both on the disabled list again.

So whats the training goal.....well get my finger back to normal is no. 1. Thanks to Wetnuts I'm on the weight vest bouldering train. Benji Cossey on a recent trip to Melbourne has also discovered the soul cleansing goodness that only extra weight can accomplish. I hooked him up with PowerVest like mine. And lastly, I'm in training to reach the world Top 100 250Hz Powerball high speed list. Fuck yeah. I need to put on 2400rpm to get onto list. Can it be done?......Stay tuned.

http://www.powerballs.com/scoreboard.php?m=Scoreboards

Here are my photos of Al training on the Wall of Justice - the new A-Team Lair, and attempting Annagramma at Hollow Mtn Cave.

Peace - Grosey