Wednesday, October 26, 2011

By the power of Greyskull


I always liked superheroes when I was a kid and because I haven’t quite grown up yet I was He-man, master of the rock (universe) and Ramon was the skinny demon Skeletor and his bright shinny silver annoying jacket helped represent the character.

My endless summer seemed to go on forever but eventually the time was running out, the climbing trip was nearly over. Reality was to be faced and never never land was soon to be over. My climbing days in Kalymnos always started at the crux: getting out of bed. Then Ramon and I would have a coffee and take in turns sharing the cut out water bottle in use of a bowl for our morning fruit cereal. Our room was awesome, I simply had my dirty and clean clothes all over the floor leaving the wardrobe completely empty. I found it easier so I could see where everything is, a pigsty, which gave personality to our room.

Jurassic wall is one out of many crags on the Island and is an hour walk, but kept it me fit and burnt out all the muffins I was greedily eating. I spotted an amazing route through the middle of the cave called ‘Rendez with Platon’ a soft 8b, it caught my attention. A 4-meter roof with dynamic moves to big positive holds. I had climbed 27 grade 8’s on sighting 2 of them but not yet gone from 8a+ to 8b. I have been in my comfort zone for too long.
    Dad said not long ago ‘son…you have had it far too easy for far too long’ before the trip and I wanted to prove myself I could promote. On my first go I ended up hanging under the crux being shut down not managing to get through the roof until I discovered I toe hook. After 3 sessions I kept coming off as I wasn’t delicate with my footwork, not enough force on my toe. Star Wars, the force is NOT with me. I can’t tell you how much I hate toe hooking. Since when was toe hooking part of climbing? The move was stretching on forever in my head, like an ocean of time. I had heaps and heaps of power endurance and stamina but every time I approached to the crux I just needed master Yoda to teach me a little more about the force. As my attempts went by I built up a negative issue in my head with the bloody toe hooking and then it became impossible. Ramon had such fantastic climbing philosophy, he basically looked at me in the eye like some flapping goldfish and said ‘forget the bullshit and just pull’ but it didn’t work, I was just rubbish.

In the meantime Ramon and I were still crushing on the Island until my parents flew out to see me for 3 days. My dad, my best friend, my hero, the strongest man who ever lived. He climbed the highest mountain in Antarctica with Dough Scott on a North Face expedition in 1992 and made the first ascent of the second highest mountain in the South Pole at minus 62. He even climbed Mecca at Raven Tor…….  aiding which I am embarrassed.
   My mum is the opposite, never been camping since she was a teenager, hardest walk she has ever done is the stairs at home to bed and she has only seen me climb like once indoors like on a 6c and I even fell off it like 10 years ago. This was a perfect opportunity to show mum who I am. But first of all I had a tick list to do with/show mum.

·      Get drunk with mum
·      Do a Steve Mac bat hang on one of the routes
·      Skip 3 draws and take a whoopa
·      Mum to experience on the back of a scooter with me

I failed them all apart from getting mum to walk all the way to Jurassic wall, which is an hour walk up hill. I didn’t quite explain to mum the plan but pointed at the Grotta and said it was nearby. After 10 minutes mum was out of breath and looked all dizzy, 15 minutes she asked ‘are we nearly there’, 35 minutes she claimed she had altitude sickness, 1 hour she nearly had a heart attack trying to get up the scramble and was shaking like a sewing machine after she took a peep down bellow. Eventually after 2 hours she got to the ‘summit’ and had to lie down. After one warm up I hit my project and for somehow I made it past the crux then bloody fell off afterwards. I was too shocked with excitement and lost concentrate continuing. I should have had an ipod on me listening to something like ‘breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out’ as my breathing system was completely out of rhythm. But I had forgotten I was deaf. Since the sweat from Sikati cave broke my hearing aid I was stoned deaf for the rest of this trip struggling to lip-read everyone.

My mum was impressed and my dad was disappointed! I expected a pat on the back ‘well done son, amazing effort, next time’ but instead he said in phony, overly polite voice ’very disappointing, you should have tried harder’

Another 2 hours down to the road, 50 stops on the way, a rescue from Ramon as mum wouldn’t let go whilst down climbing the gorge. I finally had a beer and swim. On my first two days of trying Rendez with Platon, I always repeated ‘I am going to climb this route’ over and over again as we walked to the crag. The very same experience as Carolyn Burnham from American Beauty continued saying ‘I will sell this house today’ as she was cleaning it. In the end she didn’t and revealed her emotions in a disturbing way. Instead I kept mine in!

I was extremely disappointed with not getting the route but I always kept a smile on. I consider myself very lucky since my experience in Africa some years ago. I remember when one of my pupils didn’t return to class after she caught malaria when I was teaching in a deaf school in Ghana. I lived with the poorest deaf family in a shantytown in Ethiopia for 2 weeks waiting for my visa to Sudan to be approved. There was no way I could let this route take over me as I have seen other climbers get low for days when they are unsuccessful.

At last I arrived back in London in my flat in Streatham, wow a fridge, hot water, bath tub, sofa! As I walked into the bedroom there was someone sleeping in my bed. I had forgotten I had a long term girlfriend. God she is beautiful, what the hell is she doing with some idiot like me I thought. I am definitely the luckiest man on Earth.


 When the Greek Gods get angry, Photo by Adam Hodgson
Photo by Adam Hodgson
 Sheffield Strongman Joe on Gaia Photo by Adam Hodgson
 Dad, 'my shoulder hurts' me 'it's okay dad, may the force be with you'
 crap footwork
 Photographed by Steve Gorton
 He-man and Skeletor
 The Grotta
 Come on mum.. come on mum.. go go go
 Ramon saves mum
 Mum managed to return from Jurassic!
 The suffer
 Ramon melting on 7c
 I always suspicious Ramon is Gay.  Photographed by Steve Gorton
Ramon's gay jacket I found in London 2 days after the trip.
 Life in Africa, instead of teaching the locals Maths, English etc I taught them most important of all... strength!

Monday, October 10, 2011

Kalymnos with the Greek gods


Kalymnos

My annoying vibrating alarm clock gave the bed an earthquake at 4am, I gave Lisanne a big cuddle and off I went to Gatwick. I have never been to Greece before and was ever so excited for a months worth of climbing life. Greece, home of the Greek gods and Hercules who is capable of 9c for sure. At Kos airport I met two of my old Sheffield pals Adam Hodgson and Joe Cook. They were looking strong as ever. I must have been getting weaker since I moved to London after 4 years living in the Peaks. I have missed all these climbing opportunities and now risking my life of possibly being stabbed as I live in a flat near Tooting. Pretty much nearly every week someone is murdered in the area. Joe had recently just ticked Mecca at Raven Tor (8b+) and is as strong as ever. Two days later Ramon Marin from london flew out from a months trip in Rodellar, he had gained an incredible amount of stamina. I am climbing among these superheroes I thought. 

Kalymnos is paradise and the Grotta is like climbing in a huge monster mouth. The style reminds me of Krabi in Thailand. On the first day before Ramon flew out, Joe, Adam and I trekked up to Jurassic Park wall. After warming up I decided to go for the on sight on Nicola la Tigre 7c, god it was desperate, I screamed as I was ridiculously pumped and should have came off on 2nd bolt. But instead I fought hard just about catching the holds struggling not to let go. I regret the On Sight because I almost had a heart attack. I had to lie down on the ground gasping for air as if my arms were going to explode. The experience was agony and not worth the tick!

As life on the island went by I managed to make a quick tick of Daniboy (8a) probably the most classic route on the island. I found Sardonique (8a/8a+) kind of hard taking 5 attempts before the tick. The route was slightly balancing which makes it hard for me being profoundly deaf, or I am just a typical Brit finding an excuse?  I had a debate with strong Joe whether it is 8a or 8a+. I personally thought it was 8a+ and so did Dave Graham. Joe said it was a 'hard' 8a but not 8a+ so did Adam Ondra. In the end I felt guilty and Ondra is not even human for gods sake. So ticked it off as 'extremely hard' 8a. That will do. 

After a week I had to travel back to London for a job interview. I had done my homework and I was prepared. Another long sucky journey from a walk to a taxi to a ferry to Kos, then a bus to the airport. The flight was delayed and I didn't get to Gatwick till 1.30am and missed the train to Victoria. I argued forever till I managed to knock a tenner whilst negotiating with a cab. I finally got home 2.30am and my interview was at 9am the same morning. London was more of a shithole than I remembered. I have been living in a fantasy world by the cliffs in paradise forgetting reality or perhaps avoiding it. As soon as the interview finished I ended up doing DIY for Lisanne all day setting up a study in the second bedroom for her MA. At 4am the following morning I was traveling thousands of miles back to Greece crossing the ocean and cutting myself loose.

Eventually it was time to visit Sikati Cave on the other side of the island where the Petzl Rock trip was based in 2006. Sikati cave is a wild, massive hole in the ground which looks like it's been created by a giant meteorite impact. After a 30 minute scooter ride with slow ass driver Ramon we trekked another 40 minutes across the hills till we approached the cave. It took my breath away, the cave was enormous making the Grotta look like a kitten. As I stood underneath the huge overlooking stalactites I simply felt 'out of this world' as said in the guide book. 

Another friend of mine, Dave Garry came along to Sikati and said 'Andre, this is where you were born, from the meteorite just like in the movie superman' then he went on to say 'Since you have returned home, your here to find out more about yourself' In other terms to find out how hard I can really climb. I was climbing near the top after a steep tufa approaching to the warm sun from the shade, I was sweating like hell and my arms were throbbing as if my biceps were bleeding inside. The rope got caught around my leg and I was getting scared. why can't I be normal? why can't I watch the premiership in the pub like all my other friends? I screamed as I threw myself dynamically onto the crimps near the top gasping for air. I had just On Sighted my first 8a (Super Lolita) being my 25th grade 8. It was a lifetime experience. I continued ticking the amazing tufa stalactites forrest marathon climb 'Adam' 7c+. The line was awesome. Maybe I am a superhero in my own way?

Ramon Marin had heaps of stamina and wanted to get his first ever 8a, I suggested he tried Super Lolita in the Sikati and after a quick try i filled him in with ideas for the tick.

1. you get stronger on your rest days not your climbing days. Ramon rested for two full days before he went for his next go.
2. Eat like a pig, a true cookie monster will get you up that route. Cookies, muffins and cake is the key.
3. clipping in the draws is the last thing you want to think about. I am famous for skipping draws, i am totally stupid but i get to the top of my routes.

In the end Ramon got Super Lolita first go of the day after two full rest days! effort. I went on to try Por La Socidad Con Mujeres Satisfechas, an 60 metre 8b petzl rock trip route and managed to On Sight the first part (8a). As I continued the extension approaching the crux I had only 3 quickdraws left, I had used nearly all 33 draws and it still wasn't enough. The route wasn't good, as the rock was lose and muddy. I was sweating like fuck and the tubes of my hearing aids filled up with water and suddenly made an awful buzzing sound. It was so highly irritating but i couldn't let go to take my hearing aid out. if i did, where would i put it? in my chalk bag? at 60 meters? with the sweat and busted hearing aid I gave up. What would Wolfgang say? Moffat? my dad? probably that I should simply try harder...

 Scooter life with slow ass Ramon
 Lolita 7a
 Tufantastic 7b+
 The hidden beach at Sikati
 Mega pumped after on sighting 'Adam' 7c+/8a
 The ocean of tufas
 33 quickdraws needed for the 60 meter 8b route
 Where's Wally
 Adam on Orion, his first ever 7c+!
 Ramon lowering off after flashing Zawinul Syndicate 7c+
 arrrggghhhhh, Priapos 7c
 Priapos 7c
Paradise
I  filmed Tim Emmett for yamgo TV at the Grotta
 Out of this world, Dave Garry on the lip of Adam 7c+
Sikati Cave

Friday, October 7, 2011

Ceuse


Two things I should have done since I brought my first Five Tennies at the age of 17.  Collecting dirt in jars from the bottom of each remote crags I have been to in the world. To have set up a blog from the very start since the internet exists. I am 24 now and sadly missed 7 years of blogging some of the best climbing ever. Big Wall on Fatima's Hand, Mali, deep in the Saharan desert. Risking my life on knots in Adrspach in the Czech Republic, DWS in Mallorca, Multi Pitch in Verdon Gorge, Ceuse, Rodellar, Siurana, El Chorro, Frankenjura and many more. From now on the blog starts and I will treat it like my new best friend.

At the end of the summer, it was my last climbing day in Ceuse after 3 weeks on the rock. I wasn't ready to come home, not even close. I was having a great time out there with a big group of strong Brit's. Hamer brothers, Robbie, Nat, Ethan, Luke, Ted, Ramon, Jerome and Kitty. Why was i to go home? I had already pushed my girlfriend Lisanne for more climbing time in Ceuse. I couldn't push the girlfriend anymore as I was inches away from being dumped. 'it's always about climbing, your selfish' she said. It's true, climbing is a selfish sport simply because it requires time away traveling to new crags which is part of the climbing culture. My head was screwing me up as i was near the top on Sueurs froides (8a+), it wasn't hard but the pressure of my last day made it almost impossible. I had finally climbed properly and made it past the crux till I was near the top. I completely forgot the sequence. What the hell is wrong with me? it's only like 7b now and i am struggling to find the holds until i found myself in the air. My skin was ruined and I hadn't got a single bit of energy left for another go. Sometimes the rock wins i suppose. It's not fair I thought as I had a mini tantrum down the long walk I had trekked countless times. Ethan Walker filled me with ideas about changing my flight so the route would guarantee be ticked among more climbing. I looked at my trashed fingers and a picture of Lisanne on my iphone feeling the luckiest man in the universe. I made the right decision to come home after an epic trip till the next day I had to make my way through the ugly London filled with regret.

Ceuse was awesome, quality world class climbing. I managed to redpoint up to 8a+ (Dolce vita), 3 8a's, and on sighted up to 7c+ (makach walou) It won't be long till I return......

Me and Jerome
Tenere 7c+
Mirage 7c+

For the rest of the summer I mainly worked and trained ready for the next big trip which was only two months away, Kalymnos, one of the greek islands for another month of climbing. Since Lisanne has started her MA I told her it was a good option to give her time to study without me being in the way. The trip will benefit both of us, but she disagreed and from that day on the word 'climbing' was forbidden at home as she claimed I was getting ridiculously obsessed.

A few weeks before I jetted off the the island, an old friend of my father's had no one to climb with for a day trip to the gritstone on Bank Holiday Monday. He texted me hoping a was available but I had already kind of made plans with Lisanne. I don't know how but I found myself driving up the M1 the next day at 5am to the Gritstone. The man's name was Duncan Simpson. My father and I call him either Dangerous Duncan or Homer Simpson. He has survived a million times from all sorts near death situations. He even once on a family skiing holiday to the alps sneaked off one morning to check out the North Face of the Eiger following a postcard of the mountain using it as a map. He decided to solo the first few pitches in timberlands till he realized how dangerous it was. I met him just off Luton and left my precious 6 year old Nessan Micra in a car park that has survived several crashes. As we arrived at Curbar Duncan climbed like an elephant as he was hungover from the night before. I could even smell the alcohol as he tied on at the bottom of L'Horla (E1). At first he couldn't get off the ground, perhaps he was still drunk? after struggling a few meters off the ground he threw a nut in and I took in. He was pumped already from a few 5b moves. He can climb E4 easily, but defiantly not today. We had a great day and I managed to tick Profit of Doom (E4/E5) 2nd go ground up. Duncan belaying isn't the best, in fact looking down from struggling through the crux spotting that he was on his iphone whilst belaying. My dad always says that climbing with Homer make you climb harder as you wouldn't dare fall off. But i did during my on sight attempt of the Doom i closed my eyes and took the fall finding myself still alive. 

the ticks were..

Maupassant (HVS)
Green Crack (HVS)
L'Horla (E1)
Insanity (E2)
Elder Crack (E2) 
usurper (E4) 
Profit of Doom (E4) second go ground up

    Profit of Doom snapped by Dangerous Duncan's whilst belaying with a ATC