Steve Mc Clure's blog

Dani completing his project

From the first moment that I stumbled under the arch and pretty much fell over at the scale I’ve wanted to climb a multi-pitch. The challenge is pretty obvious, to climb all the way up, the short hard routes on the side being hard, but relatively, short! Though not exactly short at all, it’s just this place is ridiculous! The Petzl heroes have put in an insane effort to put up a bunch of multi-pitch routes through the most ridiculous terrain, the two that stand out being Dani’s project, and Arnaud and Stephanie’s. Dani’s took 11 days to bolt, Arnaud about seven. That’s a lot of effort, but worth it because these are world classics.

Obviously Dani’s was out, it not even completed yet, but even if it had been, with pitches at around 8a+/8b/7c+/7b/8b+/8c/8a/8a+ it was probably slightly out of my league for a last day effort. Added to that I was hanging out in an effort to expel all nasty stuff from my body via frequent high velocity sprints to the bathroom. Multi pitching with an added layer of fear! Arnaud’s route goes at 7b+/7c+/8a+/8a, not exactly a path, but a hell of a lot easier than the terrain looks to yield. I climbed it with Cody Roth, amazing. One of the best routes I’ve ever done. To make it even better we had a view all the way up of Dani redpointing each of the pitches on his route, one after the other over about five hours. A fantastic last day, and I didn’t even need a bung!

Bits of rock can look pretty much the same, it doesn’t matter where you are in the world. Big features, crazy formations, caves, pinnacles, whatever; up close and pulling hard, rock is rock. In a place like China you need to escape the system and explore the view, just to know where you are, or you might as well have stayed home!

Petzl needed some filming for their new helmets and reverse 4, the stuff needed for a multi pitch. I was called in, partner to be Stephanie Bodet. Hardly a work day! Steph is one of the true legends of rock climbing and one of the beauties that would appear in the climbing mags winning competitions in the 90’s. The pleasure and privilege was all mine! We climbed a 6 pitch route ‘Pussa Yan’, a bunch of 6c’s and 7a’s. Bolted but with a touch of spice, some loose stuff and a trad feel. But a true mountain, with exposure and a real summit. But the real beauty was watching the view unfold as we inched higher. Taking in the scene, and the country from the belays as the mist swirled and the birds soared. I can look back on a bunch of hard routes at the end of the week, but this will be one of the days I remember most, a day where I was definitely in China.

The best time of the year is now. Everywhere! Not just for
climbing but for everything (maybe not sunbathing). The sun is out every day
and the air is cold and crisp. In true style I knackered a finger, so that
explains my lack of posting recently. Lots of time to get out and cruise some
easier stuff. But its getting better now, a bit annoying having also had a bad
finger most of last year (different one), but at least I got good at 3 finger
climbing! I was in good shape (for me) and ready for some hard projects but the
weather, until now, has been all over, too wet, too hot, too humid, too cold.
Actually I didn’t miss much. Lots of route setting has been good to slow down
the cake intake; I even managed a font 8a the other day, at the Tor of all
places, one I’ve not done before too, which is pretty rare! So things should be
all good for the next week when I’ll be out in China.
I’m hoping the weather will be as perfect as it is here in the UK.
Packing now, in goes the flapjack, noodles are nice for sure, but maybe not 3
times per day every day!

The first time I set eyes on Kjerag I knew I wanted to climb it. Perhaps the world’s most famous BASE jumping cliff, this 1000m vertical wall rising straight out from the sea was just asking to be climbed. In most cases dreams like this remain dreams, with logistics, finances and life in general standing firmly in the way, but this time I had my hand held. The Norwegians are such a friendly bunch, and on-it with their organising. As soon as I said I was keen all I had to do was find a window.

This was a ‘non objective’ trip, the way I like them. One of the problems of being a ‘known’ climber is that everyone assumes you have an objective, something new and hard, something that hits the headlines every time you pull on. This trip was just about climbing. We just wanted to be way up there, inching up the wall soaking the exposure. There are things to be done that would be big news, but that stuff could tempt us later.

So I pulled a strong team together, Myself, Neil Mawson, Charlie Woodburn and Liam Halsey. That’s a strong team indeed, and it was good to be in a team of 4 with a 9 day hire car charge creeping over £800. Norway isn’t famed for cheap prices so we lugged out extra food knowing a take away Pizza might be £20, though Charlie appeared to be on an eating holiday with an extra 30kg of baggage! Norwegianair was a breath of fresh air compared to Ryanair, with an extra 20kg of baggage just £12, and of the seven 20kg bags we had between us, every single one was overweight but not an eyebrow was raised. The guy at the car rental desk glanced over our kit and gave us a free upgrade from ‘medium family’ to ‘utterly massive’, which was actually completely essential once we’d collected portaledges and a whole pile of other space unfriendly stuff.

But to be honest we already knew we’d not need it. The forecast was bad, a whole internet page of black clouds and blue rain drops spreading out for the rest of our trip. Only the first two days had a glint of yellow, there would be no time for hauling, and no chance of waiting it out on a ledge unless we delayed our flights by several months. We drove straight to Lysebotn, the village at the head of the fjord, pitched tents and then got the boat straight to the base of the wall for 6pm. You can’t walk in, so the plan was to bivi, and then leg it for a one day push, fast and light, totally committed! The route ‘HokaHey’ is the classic, E5 and 20 pitches, it seemed the right challenge. Time was on our hands, for now, relaxing in the warm evening light and then sleeping out under the stars with that little bit of excitement knowing that tomorrow would be a different kind of day.

4.30am, no need for alarms. This is Norway, the suns been up for ages! There is something special about having done a load of stuff before everyone even opens their curtains. By midday we were 10 pitches and 600m up and all was good. But Charlie’s i-phone was spreading fear with some blue stuff apparently coming in, but we didn’t really need any technology to see the wall of water moving gradually toward us. There was a sense of urgency as myself and Neil swapped leads knowing that getting down would be no fun at all, but getting up would probably be impossible. Amazingly the wall stopped, it pissed it down less than half a mile away but somehow we were spared. So with the stress over I thought I’d add more, an E4 pitch was soaking so I headed off up some A2+ variation that looked doable. Forty five meters up and the exposure was forcing itself upon me, suddenly evident as I stepped way out of the comfort zone. Wet holds and snappy flakes and hard moves. Some good gear lay maybe just 5 or 6 meters below but it looked far away, far beyond the poor cam I’d just stuffed into a flaring undercut. Moving on I was impressed by my desire to push into this totally unessential challenge that I’d set. But the holds ahead were thinning out and running wet, all of a sudden this was a bad plan, this was not on the agenda and I back peddled with an agonising pump to very tentatively fall/sit on the cam preparing for the inevitable. It held, and an ‘impossible to place on lead’ bommer wire, which will live there forever, took me down and back on route where I should never have strayed.

We hit the top at 10pm, knackered, but not in the red yet. The tent was far away but darkness wasn’t, made more imminent with a cold mist blanketing the summit. We hit a fast march, more of a run, sticking loosely to directions. But what seemed clear on the ground was now far from adequate, and we had a sinking feeling that we were winging it, trying to make landmarks that loomed out of the mist fit the descriptions we had memorised. An hour later it was obvious, we strayed way off. The lunar landscape could give us nothing and with darkness pressing down we knew we’d blown it. We had to stop and sit it out, with no sense of direction whatsoever and absolutely no idea where we were, going anywhere was just pointless. But with no food and not really enough clothes for the biting wind neither of us took the plunge to sit and instead marched on, until by total fluke, after 90 mins of almost running we at last realised we were back where we started! Never has such a screw up been more pleasing! A text from Charlie, now happily scoffing back at camp, gave us more directions. This time we inched on, back tracking as soon as we lost the way. Torches only showed how thick the mist really was but a warm bed was possible and marginally worth the effort. At last we crawled in at 3am. A good day.

By 6.30am the sun scorched us out of the tent. It would have been good to have awoken on a ledge with the vista below. But already the clouds were bubbling and we opted for a sport cliff, steep and weatherproof. Right on queue the rains came in. The wall was finished. We’d been lucky, 40 days of rain had preceded our trip, and since then it’s rained every day. Our ascents might be the only ones of the year. But on the bright side, there is certainly something to come back for.

Or the God Of all Traverses? I’m not the fittest of climbers, but it’s not often that I turn up at a cliff and only manage one route before crawling off exhausted! But the mega traverse at Craig-y-Longridge is way longer than the average route!

Craig-y-Longridge is one of those places that as a climber you just have to visit. Maybe not the most amazing cliff, but it’s got history and a share of fame. It was almost lost recently before the good old BMC bought it for us! I was on a Beal ropes training day near the Lakes recently and with an early finish I had a spur of the moment swerve off the M6 and went off on a hunt with some scribbled directions on a scrap of paper. But it was easy to find. I’d wondered if the traverse would be easy to find too, but actually it was totally obvious; start at left, finish at right.  Use whatever, don’t fall off for over 100m! A timely phone call from Keith Sharples confirmed that the blank section in the middle was passed via a good break, but high off the deck at about 4 metres!

Trying to do this first go was the plan. With holds absolutely everywhere I figured trying to work it all out before hand would require more memory than I had available, not to mention energy and time. An onsight go, but a flash really as the holds are easily visible. So I bouldered around near the start in my trainers and walked up and down the traverse between warm-ups to see if there were any obvious rests before pulling on my boots for the first and only time and setting off.

Wow- what a monster! Within just minutes I was pumped, on the bit that looked easy, and the rest I’d spotted from the ground actually wasn’t that restful, and the next one was about 60m away! This needed respect and I dropped into conservation mode working any chill spots to the max with heel hooks and toe hangs and sprinting each hard section. The high up bit began OK with spans between slots until they ran out and then a committing hard section with my single boulder pad looking very lonely about 60m further back along the crag! With forearms almost exploding I made it to the only decent rest in a vague corner before the final hard section of a mere 20m!

So what to do at the end? Set of back I guess! So without rest I was away, faster now reversing the sequences, but it all felt a bit hard work, and I had to question what I was doing on the high bit as I literally fell across the traverse needing heel hooks to stay on above a back breaking fall! I got a fair way until my whole body shut down, not just pumped arms, but legs, stomach, back and all. I was off in a crumpled, panting heap. After 5 mins rest I still couldn’t even do a single move. Time to retreat, but something to come back for I guess – I hear the Ian Vickers, the master of Longridge can cruise it 3 times without a rest….

Check out the crag details on -  

http://craigylongridge.wetpaint.com/

Malham (Again)

Lucky for us this is such a good cliff, as we don’t have that many world class sport venues. This isn’t Spain. But we do have a few. This is the most important confirmation Adam Ondra has made, the fact that he’s returned for a second week means he must like it here, after all, he could go anywhere in the world for sure.

At last he repeated Overshadow and I think reckoned it was a hard 9a+. 7 days of effort confirmed what I always thought, it’s just a hard route to do! That sounds obvious, but its one of those routes that should be easier, but just doesn’t give up, spitting you off when glory was already half grasped. I watched him zip up the start yesterday. Amazing. It was also amazing how our sport is so open to all, with Adam, the best climber in the world, swapping goes on the first part of the route with Carl Bacon who made a cool redpoint of Overnite Sensation (8a+). Adam was just as psyched for Carl as Carl was for him. We are all equal really, just people, trying hard on great routes.

I was trying hard on a great route too. I’m back in the tunnel now, project world. It’s been super easy to enter this year, fitting in really well around work and other stuff that is keeping me back home for now. Normally I’m distracted, it’s a big sport, but this time everything outside my blinkered vision is blurred and there is a light at the end of the tunnel that I am starting to see. I’ve forgotten how many days I have tried this new project, maybe about 10, but it’s coming together now. Yesterday I took a high point about 9 moves after the crux of Rainshadow, but that’s still about 10 moves from where I can get my first vague rest, and after that it’s still 8a to the top. So maybe not close, but there’s no rush. It’s all about the journey. 

pic - Alex reaching past all the hard moves on everything!

Or so it seemed, why else would the thermometer say 25degrees! But it was still only February 8^th. A dream for most, blazing sunshine, five days in a row without a cloud or a breath of wind. But you can’t please everyone, and I couldn’t help but let out a little whinge as I slipped off the last moves of Blomu, a 35m 8c+ at Santa Linya. The route bakes in the sun from the moment it rises to the moment it sets, and I was not keen enough to be at the crag and warmed up before the glassy slopers turned to soap. Being British though, whinging is to be expected!

But it was only a small whinge. At this time even Spain is a gamble. Last year we betted on Misja Pec, and lost. This year Catalunya was a top bet. Conditions were compromised in the sun, but primo in the shade, it’s all a matter of choosing the right routes. My window was a small one with just 4 and a half days away; it seemed short in advance, but now, a day after returning, my battery feels fully charged. At least my Vitamin D is up there!  We stayed at the house of Tom Bolger and partner Lynn, and spent a few days at Santa Linya, or ‘The Cave’ as it’s known. They live within a stones throw in perhaps the most idyllic pad I’ve seen. Breakfast on the balcony in the sun before strolling down to do battle. Tom is in the zone and knocking out the 9’s. So far he’s up to 9a/+, but I watched him pushing hard on a 9a+. The start holds look like buckets as he floats up, but I look closer and realise I can’t pull on them. Then after a lot of moves he’s at the crux, a contorted position in a horizontal roof on awful holds leads to a massive stab to a poor mono. Then with feet smearing it’s another reach off that to a bad crimp. Apparently its font 8a+ for just that bit, but the style makes me cringe. I won’t be on that!

So I take a more relaxed tact with Rab Carrington and aim for the hills away from power and steepness. The area of Villanova De Mela is beautiful. It has a mountain feel, fresh and remote, but is actually just an hour from the towns. We opted for a 4 pitch route, high above the valley floor that was still frosted and dark in the shadows. The route was immaculate, not a speck of loose rock, every move perfect, never hard, never easy. Belaying at the top in a T-shirt it’s easy to see why anyone would fall in love with climbing. Surely this is what it’s all about, the true essence of our sport.

But somehow I’m back in the cave. My second morning on this route made it clear that I could have done it, would have done it, if it had been cold. I was happy with that. Two quick sessions to nail an 8c+ is good going. It was pleasing after such a long lay off. But I hadn’t actually done it, so I was back next day 40 minutes earlier and battling up the warm up with frozen fingers, but knowing in less than 90 minutes I’d be sunbathing in my shorts. This time, with a tick in the bag, summer felt far more agreeable!   

 As a fine wine gains in taste and quality, so do the Petzl Rock Trips! There have been some pretty good ones; Red River, Squarmish and my favourite so far in Kalymnos; all fantastic and each a trip of a life-time, but this year Petzl really extended themselves with a rollercoaster ride to Mexico!

Four months ago I trashed a ligament in my finger. Since then I barely climbed, and the concept of mixing it with the Petzl heroes didn’t appeal. But how could I not go, how often would I get a chance like this? I figured I could muddle by in British style. So after 40 hours of travel I arrived at Taxco, a crazy town 4 hours South West of Mexico City. This was a big trip with some serious crankers; Enzo Oddo, Mike Fuselier, Gerome Pouvreau, Joe Kinder, Said Belhaj, Liv Sansoz, Martina Cufar, Nina Caprez, Melissa Leneve, Daniel Woods and Dave Graham to name just a few. Climbing with these dudes is a privilege; to be hanging with them and soaking up some of their psyche. These guys are just mad for it; no whining about poxy injuries; Tony Lamiche had a bust rib, Martina a broken finger and just months ago Liv smashed her pelvis which has more screws in it than a DIY store. And I’m moaning about a sketchy finger?

This trip was spread over 10 days in two venues. The first near the town of Taxco was a massive cave, the biggest I’ve ever seen, I’m talking like 5 x Kalymnos Grande Grotte! El Chonta is an awe inspiring natural feature covered in tufas and stalactites. Some of the routes are like climbing trees with horizontal stalactites, their growth blown outwards by thousands of years of winds. This is the domain of the endurance climber and the sneaky rest finding climber. This is where I climb best. I came to the conclusion that my weakness is actually my strength, as it forces me to find an easier way to pull the moves compared to strong people. Then overall the combined effect of lots of easier moves on a weaker climber is better than a load of harder moves stacked up even if you are strong! That’s the theory anyway, but it seemed to pay off! After Mike Fuselier redpointed the crazy 300 foot 8b+ ultimate route I managed to get the flash (but its only 8b).

In El Chonta climbing trees. Photo - John Evans

Three days later we were over at the climbing area of Jilotepec, trading sweaty nights, comfy beds, mosquitoes and tarantulas for sub zero temperatures, duvet jackets and tents. We also swapped ultra complex limestone for technical conglomerate. This stuff was different to the norm, with the rock being made up of bits of rough volcanic rock of every size imaginable all mixed up and glued together. Pretty edgy in general, but with lots of chicken head style climbing and potato pulling. Temperatures were Baltic, like  minus 5 degrees at night, but they had to be to even attempt to hang the holds. Most of the routes are vertical face, super tech with multiple footholds and intermediates, but the steeper stuff is there, with 40 metre routes blasting up the monstrous main wall. This was the scene of the action with Petzl highlighting a bunch of routes to try varying from 8c+ to 8a, some already climbed, some not!

Gerome about to send the 8c+ project. Photo - John Evans

The truly great thing about the Petzl rock trips is that they are about a gathering of climbers going climbing. The whole philosophy keeps true to the roots of why most of us started, and continue to love the sport. There is usually a competition of sorts, but relaxed and informal and with no losers. This year was even more relaxed with no competition at all, just climb and enjoy. For me, perfect, my comp days are over allowing me to compete even harder with the rock itself. Between us the Petzl team did pretty well in sorting out the projects, with most of them getting sent. For a day I had the hardest route in Mexico with a redpoint of Cruz Diablo on my 2^nd day, before Mike and Gerome sent Las Chicas on their last day at the same 8c+ grade. The last few days I was in flash mode, too much climbing here to get on another project, with a bunch of 8’s and an unbelievable 8b/+ to finish the trip.

Photo - John Evans

But Petzl rock trips are not just about the climbing, they are far bigger than that. And this year was the biggest yet, with visits to Aztec Pyramids, saunas, town visits, traditional dances, fantastic food, slide shows and presentations, all topped with the best party ever with the techno banging out to the hundreds of crazy Mexicans all dancing till really really late! 

photo - john evans

Usually the party is my rock trip highlight, hard to split it from the climbing this year as that was so good, but also like a fine wine, La Fouche had upped the ante with his DJ skills, and combined with Said on percussion they absolutely knocked the socks off the crowd. If you are reading this guys – you put me in just the right spot!

A huge big up to the organisers! For me this was the best rock trip ever, but not just because it was so damn good, but because it felt like I was back in the game, my passion flooding back in and I was becoming one with the movement again. The dodgy finger had knocked my drive sideways, but maybe I needed it, a break and a refocus. It’s still dodgy, but not as dodgy as I feel about whinging so much about it and then busting out a load of hard routes! I learnt a little about the Mexican philosophy, for them its not about collecting things, because when you die you take nothing; all that counts is what you leave behind. The impressions we leave and the things we have done. Best make them good ones I guess!

Out with the old and in with the new! Need I say more? I remember the day I climbed harder than my dad; it was kind of confusing rather than an achievement. I wonder how long I’ve got before my daughter passes me?

But also check out the shoes! My first ever pair of shoes were EB's, and back then they were awesome. That was like 30 years ago. Recently I saw a friend had some and was psyched to see how they were. Putting them on felt familiar and surprisingly well fitting. I felt like I could go out and climb hard! They were in great condition with a good edge, a collectors item! Setting off I was confident, but then two moves later all the progress in climbing shoes became very obvious!

The team gathered on Saturday morning and boarded their coach. 24 climbers, including some of Britain’s best, Nick Sellars, Ryan Pasquil, Neil Mawson, Paul Smitton, Sam Whittacker and Myself. That’s a fair collection of E9’s and 8c’s in there. The destination? Not a day’s climbing! Too hot for that, and way too humid. Instead it was an all day dance festival – ‘Cocoon in the park’. After last years great success it was back again, but bigger and better, with thousands of like minded people gathering at Temple Newson in leeds.

It could not have been more perfect, huge open fields of dry grass to lounge around on under the sun with the temperatures soaring. The pumping tunes and a massive stage in the centre was where the action was going off. Noon till 11pm, non stop. I chilled till 1pm then got on board the dance train and amongst the techno. Ten hours straight. Awesome. It was a long walk back up the hill later with legs of lead, and an even further cycle ride home at 2am.

Next day I was 3kg lighter than the day before! Maybe I should have gone climbing. Though maybe not! Instead it was a very different party, my daughters 4^th birthday complete with bouncy castle and many bouncy kids. I had figured an all day event compared to an all night event would be easier on the head the next day but funnily enough it was not!