There are only three sports...

‘There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor-racing, and mountaineering; all the rest are merely games.’ Ernest Hemingway.

Personally I would change the above quote to ‘there are only three sports: kayaking, motor-racing and mountaineering’, but the sentiment is all the same (Bullfighting is a horrible, disgusting event that should be eradicated from this planet). They have a risk factor that, even with modern equipment, is far greater than any other. Yet the gains from them, from personal experience and with discussion with others, are far greater than any other. You can truly find out who you are when you are on the edge; stuck in a stopper, the rear-wheel slipping, run out above the gear and fighting waist deep in snow through a blizzard.

Recently however I’ve not been capable of doing such things. But I’m getting there. I’ve been busy with getting up mountains and going climbing that spending time updating my blog has proved difficult, so  I’ve only just got round to it.

Having gone running a few times my leg felt strong enough to try climbing and walking. My wrist, I thought I take it as it went. At night at Indy proved quickly that my wrist was strong enough to climb, I even managed to lead up the over-hanging head wall.

The next day with perfect weather resulted in a trip up Snowdon, up the Pyg Track and down the Miner’s path. The ground conditions amazing, powdery snow without the need of crampons. It was a great day. For Krystyna it was her first mountain day, I can’t think of a better introduction to the joys of hill days. For me it held interesting moments, it took a while for my confidence to develop again, in particular while making steps on the more steep snow. It is funny how the mind can play with your abilities to tackle obstacles that previously showed no difficulties, and still are no physical difficulty. Being buzzed on the top of Snowdon by a 22 Squadron rescue helicopter, with their winch men waving from the door really made our day.  

The view from Snowdon top onto Bwlch Ciliau.

The RAF Seaking Helicopter.

Us and Snowdon in the background.

The amazing Moon we saw that night, reflecting in Llyn Llydaw.

Buoyed by my day on Snowdon on that weekend I went up Tryfan with a group of friends. Although we were cold and in the cloud for most of the day it was a great day out. The scrambling on Tryfan is always fun and I don’t think I have ever taken the exact same route up ever. Coming off the top and bog-trotting back to the car was amusing.

The girls and James on 'The Cannon'

Me on 'The Cannon'

The girls and James on the way down, post-bog-trotting.

Last Tuesday was a trip with BUMS to Beacon climbing centre. I easily managed to get up several F6a’s, a few F6b’s and tried and failed on a F6b+. I’m still wary of over doing it, causing further injury and delays.

Wednesday was a cold, wet and incredibly windy day. Setting off with Jack and Ellie we headed up from Bethesda to Carnedd Dafydd to Carnedd Llywelyn then down into the cwm at the base of the Black Ladders. The wind was really strong, it required that you lent into it to walk. In conditions like that, were you can’t feel your hands, the rain is freezing and you can’t see more than twenty metres due to being in the cloud, it tests your metal and you come away feeling better, the challenge met and defeated. Everything is in perspective again.

For Jack it was a sentimental day, the two year anniversary of the death of a friend in who died mountaineering in Scotland.

On the top of Carnedd Dafydd all kitted up.

Ellie bracing in the wind.

'Look I can fly!'

Me being a Berghaus advert.

Saturday was cold. We went to Llanddulas Cave. I got hailed on half way up a route. It still isn’t really warm enough to go climbing yet, particularly if you’re not in the sunshine. The local pub (The Valentine) there however was great, a coal fire and London Pride on tap.

Sunday was the BUMS indoor boulder competition at Indy. Mikey Kenyon and Meg White won. A good time was had by all who took part. Thanks to Indy for hosting and route setting. Some great and challenging problems were put up.

Motorbiking has started again. Getting back into the swing of things I’ve gone on some short but fairly difficult routes. A particularly good one is the roads around Bronydd Isaf (OL17: 627 704).  It is a set of farmer’s roads with grass growing in the middle of the road. I’m struggling to go faster than thirty and feel as if I’m completely in control. Hopefully my throttle and general bike skills will improve with the more challenging driving. I’m looking at doing some routes around the Dolgarrog area. Anybody know of good-green lanes in North Wales?

To conclude on a quote ‘Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.’ T.S. Elliot.

Some film clips:

Some cool and dangerous motorbike riding.

Maybe I need to train harder?

A really nice climbing/lifestyle film: 'A Desert Life'.

Cedar Wright in Malaysia: Part I

Cedar Wright in Malaysia: Part II

Racing, Running and Reviews.

The dates for the various motor-racing events have been released. Of major interest to me is the Moto GP (Silverstone, 15^th-17^th June), British Super Bikes (All year, but I’m planning on visiting: Oulton Park, 5^th-7^th May/6^th-8^th July, Donington Park, 7-9 September) and the Isle of Man TT (provisional dates: 28^th May-8^th June). For more dates and locations see the websites. 

 

The Dakar Rally is now over, with French man Cyril Despres on the KTM winning the Bike category. A summary of the best bike action is available here. 

 

TT: Closer to the Edge came out last year and last week I got round to buying and watching it. Two words; amazingly quick. Whether you like the TT or bike racing at all is not really important. It is a tale of a group of people seeking something past the ordinary and ordain in life. Although it is a documentary, it is a well-edited, fast-paced, person-orientated film rather than the typical moribund T.V. shows. The on-board camera shots are unbelievable, watching the bikes hit over 170 mph on the tiny country roads sends adrenaline shooting through your body. It is the stories of the riders and their families that really make the film, in particular those of the Dunlop family, Guy Martin and the Dobbs family. Some of the quotes Guy Martin comes out with are hilarious and down-right honest opinions, e.g. ‘Some lads love going to the pub, some lads love shagging. I don’t mind it but I’m not into it. Different things make different people happy, don’t they’. Anyone who likes adrenaline fixes will be able to relate to it. As the tag-line says ‘Just because you’re breathing doesn’t mean you’re alive’!

Here is the trailer. 

As I’m doing a series of reviews I’ve got some biking jeans, Richa Kevlar Jeans.   I’ve owned them for about a year and a half, taken no spills on them. As jeans go they look the part, have a good cut (slightly different to normal jeans), proper denim, can be worn on a night-out and are tough as old boots. The cut around the knees may look a bit strange, that is because on the inside they have insert sections for knee pads. Also on the inside are large sections of Kevlar fabric, round the backside, down the back of the legs and around the knee, prime areas to get hurt as you slide down the road. They take a bit to get wet and I’m sure if you treated them with Nikwax or the like they would be fairly water-resistant. For sitting on the bike they feel comfortable for all day riding and are much nicer if you are going in to town than your full leathers. A couple of downsides are flexibility is very limited for non-biking movements, they take even longer than normal jeans to dry and in midsummer when not travelling at 60mph they can get very warm. Overall I’d highly recommend them to any biker, and unlike those jeans you got from G-star (or some rubbish brand) they won’t fall apart after two washes.

I had the cast off and then replaced last week. It is now neon yellow. My thumb was given the all ok and I’m getting it moving again, as it had been immobilised for five weeks. Still cannot ride the push-bike though, my arm sticks out at a funny angle and grabbing a handful of the back break is not going to happen. The cast comes off around the end of the month, then a few weeks will be needed to get it back to working strength.

I’m now able to run, finally. It is a great feeling that I can now be building my strength back up. Distance and speed is getting there. My knee is no longer buckling if I misstep which proved amusing to everyone else as I went down the road. It is funny how things you take for granted when taken away from you become suddenly really important to get back. 

In the vain hope that this was useful, thanks for reading.

Why Adventure? (and some videos).

As this healing process has been going on I’ve had a few introspective moments. The close call with being a dead body and evening news story brings a different perspective, and more importantly I’ve found a serious mental questioning on ‘is what I do and enjoy worth it?’. Personally the answer has been a strong and definitive ‘Yes!’. Yet my assumption that if I die or severely damage myself doing something I love, be it on a cliff, mountain-top or on the motorbike, that it would be fine has been brought to the fore and been found wanting (it is not a fear of dying, but one of missing out on all the stuff I could have done before dying). Now how this effects my mental attitude when I’m physically fit is something to find out. Maybe physically hard but relatively safe adventures will be the route I take. Whatever route I take I will do it because I enjoy it and the challenge it presents. It would be interesting to hear from people who have had similar experiences to hear how they mentally organised themselves after such events. 

There is a new(ish) article on the Bangor University Website: http://www.bangor.ac.uk/news/full.php.en?nid=6308&tnid=6308. It discusses the psychological reasons for people to seek adventure (I’m sure there is a more comprehensive paper somewhere). It seems that we seek adventure for a heightened emotional response and that adventure allows us to take control of an aspect of our lives. Seems interesting. I think that we all struggle to truly know why we place ourselves in positions of danger, is it just the adrenaline kick or is there more to it.

Many climbers, mountaineers and explorers have tried to answer the question of “why?”. Mallory’s succinct ‘Because it’s there’ doesn’t really answer it. I believe it is a very personal matter that needs to be addressed individually, if you work out why you are doing something you perform and enjoy the activity much more. Which aspects of your own adventures do you get most from? Focusing on those aspects helps improve the overall outcome.    

The Dakar Rally, heard of it? You should have. One of the most gruelling races on the planet, man and machine are tested to their limits. Desert racing at its zenith. And the best bit is that it is on at the moment.

Here is the official website: http://www.dakar.com/index_DAKus.html.

The route, even without racing, looks amazing. Watching it makes me want to just get out on my motorbike and go for a spin on a dirt road (which obviously can’t happen at the moment).

My Transalp is based on Honda’s racing bikes for this back in the late 80’s/early 90’s. No wonder it feels indestructible.   

I'm going to get (and read) Full of Myself by Jonny Dawes. I'll let you know what it is like.

Now a load of videos to get you psyched.

The Nose, El Cap.

Mixed Climbing Avalanche Accident (was buzzing round UKC a few weeks ago).

A load of the Dakar Racing clips. 

Gasherbrum II, first winter ascent. 

The Real Big Drip (M7 WI 6), Canadian Rockies.

Sonnie Trotter on Lake of Fire (5.13c R), Squamish, Canada.

New Year, Similar Targets.

Another year has gone by, one that personally was exciting and full of amazing experiences (and I hope your year was as well). Some key highlights include: My first Gogarth trip (Britomartis, HVS 4c) and subsequent visits, my first limestone E2 (It, E2 5b), buying and tazzing around on my Transalp, my first slate E3 (Goose Creature, E3 6a), crapping myself (not literally) on Superdirect (E1 5b) with Gwen and doing Pull My Daisy (E2 5c). Also completing my first year at Uni and managing to survive my recent epic stand out (although my fall wasn't really a highlight!). 

Some targets for the new year: Climbing: Comes the Dervish (E3 5c), Atlantis/True Moments/Freebird (E2 5b), Samurai (E2 5c), The Sloth (HVS 5a), A Dream of White Horses (HVS 4c). Walking: Summer version of the route we were doing when I fell, The Pennine Way, Scarfell Pike, Ben Nevis, Cadir Idris, Welsh 3000’s. Motorbiking: A Scotland trip, a Lakes trip and save up for kitting the Transalp up for off roading.

I’m still out of action, my hand is going to take some serious work to rebuild its strength (hopefully this will force my climbing footwork to improve and better, smoother gear changes on the motorbike). My knee is now able to bend completely, it has taken time and quite a bit of painful stretching to achieve it though. I still can’t step down stairs with it, I kind of mentally line my right foot up to catch me, then step down and move quickly as my left knee buckles. It can be quite hairy doing this so I wait till I’m almost at the bottom of the stairs before trying.

My best advice is don’t fall/slip, the recovery process is a real frustration. But if you must bash yourself up; stay focused, positive and just keep working at it. Recovery does and will happen.

Currently, as I can’t do anything useful/fun/scary I’m reading a lot. Nothing wrong with being well read, in fact I normally pack a book in my backpack when I’m out for a few days to pass the time after tea and before bed. Therefore the next few blogs will probably be reviews of adventure literature and films.

Here is one review to get you started.

    

In September I bought Unjustifiable Risk?: The Story of British Climbing by Simon Thompson. It is a quite fascinating read that I have recently finished. It brings together various aspects of history, social commentary, politics and biographies to present an overview (although it is possible the title should be changed to ‘an introduction to the story of British climbing’) of the history of climbing (in all its aspects). It not only covers the British Isles but has an international perspective of the role of British climbers in the development of our “games”. It covers a time period of circa 1800 to modern day.  It is interesting how the change and development of gear and attitudes to it have played an important role to the climbing we are involved in. Thompson makes you wish to be involved with the tales he discusses (apart from, personally, the deadly accidents that have occurred pursuing those lofty peaks).  Overall I highly recommend the book.

A few other titles I recommend reading or watching are:

• The Ascent of Everest by John Hunt. 
• Climbing: Because it's There (Philosophy for Everyone) by Stephen E. Schmid (ed.). 
• Long Way Round with Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman.  T.V Series.
• First Ascent Series Boxed Set by Sender Films.

So, happy New Year to everyone. Get psyched, get out there. Enjoy the mountains.

Tumble and Fall.

This blog is not the one I had planned to type. I had been thinking that I would be telling you about a three day winter walk in Snowdonia, however the actual events are never exactly to plan.

The weekend before (3/4.12.11) was the BUMS Christmas meal on the Saturday, a good evening with friends, then Sunday was a trip to Parisella’s Cave on the Orme. The Parisella’s trip was cold and just avoiding the rain that was coming down all over North Wales. It primarily involved standing in a down jacket psyching myself up to have another go and to take the jacket off.

Pete Wanless in the cave.

Pete Globe in the cave.

I’d been talking to my friend Tristan about going on a walk and we decided on the next weekend (9-11.12.11) to go into Snowdonia, baging various peaks (inc. the Carneddu, Tryfan, Crib Goch and Snowdon) over the three days and to have a “play” in the snow.

Shopping and packing was done on the Thursday night, tent, crampons, ice axe etc. were in the bag (along with six malt loaves each for lunches). Friday morning involved me finishing an essay and we were off.

 

Setting off from Bethesda, the plan was to walk to the base of the Black Ladders at the Carneddu, turn left top out on Carnedd Llewelyn, then go roughly north-east to the bothy at Llyn Dulyn.

The walk to base of the Black Ladders is easy (and surprisingly warm) but with great views as these black, gigantic cliffs come into view and patches of snow and ice start appearing. It is some of the most foreboding scenery I’ve looked at. We turned to go up Carnedd Llewelyn, finding the aeroplane parts (the remains of a WWII bomber that crashed with the loss of all the crew) and almost magically frozen plants next to the stream. 

Looking up at the Black Ladders.

Black Ladders area.

The crashed aeroplane.

The frozen plants.

 

We then topped out on Llewelyn, time for full winter kit was the decision. It was freezing, you couldn’t have your gloves off for more than five minutes if you still wanted to be able to feel your fingers. With ice axe out, crampons on and goggles on it was time to descend and reach the bothy. Although the sun had gone down about half an hour ago the moon was bright and visibility good. Nevertheless my head torch came out, I needed to navigate. Tristan, psyched, followed me into the darkness. 

Tristan in winter gear.

Me in winter gear.

 

Knowing that there are dangerous cliffs around Llyn Dulyn I made the decision to descend early to ensure our safety. We started down a snow gully (roughly grade I possibly pushing to II in places), with fantastic thaw-freeze snow, the crampons were biting brilliantly. Tristan was above me with his mega-bright head torch, I was cutting the trail. 

Tristan up there.

 

Then, about halfway down, I started sliding. I still don’t know what caused it (all I can think is that I didn’t have a crampon in correctly and stepped down). This wasn’t in the game plan. I grabbed my axe in both hands and rolled into an ice axe arrest. The axe ripped out of my hands and I was tumbling, my head torch ripped off, now I was tumbling in the dark. Up, down, left, right suddenly became meaningless, all I could think was ‘any second now I’m going to feel a smack on my head and it is going to all go dark’. Those thoughts were strangely disassociated from my body, I don’t remember being scared just pissed off that this was it. I didn’t want to die, especially now, I’ve had got/still have got too much to do.

I came to a stop, I don’t know how or why but I stopped. A wave of relief spread though me. A quick check, no broken legs/arms; good, left hand hurts; not good, there is lots of blood; not good. My forehead was bleeding and my left knee was sore. Looking up, I saw my head torch falling down the slope (minus the head band). I grabbed it and started yelling to Tristan. ‘I’m Alive!’, ‘Arrgghh, my hand/leg/head’, ‘Oh, F***’ and ‘S***’ were what I remember shouting. (Tristan says I also shouted ‘Hurry Up’, what a stupid thing to say to him after disappearing into the gloom. Good job he took his time, two casualties would have been a nightmare). Whilst talking once we were off the mountainside, I found out that Tristan reckoned I’d tumbled for about thirty metres.  

Tristan had found my axe, planted in the ice, pick completely buried. It would have held me if I’d have managed to hold on (another reason to get stronger). He joined me, did a quick first aid check, and then we had to move. We had no signal, I was bleeding, we were in the cold and sitting on snow, not a place to stop.

I slid on my backside down the rest of the slope, with the angle easing every few metres, using a combination of ice axe and crampon spikes on my heels. We then started walking. I’m not entirely sure of our route, shock, adrenaline and head wounds don’t make navigating easy. I recognised the cliffs and outline of the mountains in front of us we were in Cwm Eigiau, as kind of planned. I knew there was a farmer’s 4X4 track near the base and the path eventually led to Dolgarrog.

About thirty minutes later we got some signal. Tristan called 999, asked for the Police then Mountain Rescue (the correct way to get help in the mountains). We got off our names, injuries but not our location before we lost signal. Our only option was to keep walking, to find the path, to get signal again.

After around four miles walking we had signal, we were about half way down Llyn Eigiau. The cavalry arrived, the yellow bird of hope, the Squadron 22 RAF Sea-king Helicopter. Waving it in with the head torches, it landed. I was determined to walk onto it, I’d already made it off the mountain, another hundred metres was going to be fine and a stretcher was not an option. Within minutes I was at Ysbyty Gwynedd, A and E awaited.

The fantastic skill of the staff in all the departments I visited cannot expressed in words. They were extraordinary. Once my clothes were off, I was x-rayed. Luckily I’d only broken my thumb and wrist on my left hand. My knee and face required stitches. 

WARNING: GORY PICTURES!

My face.

Broken Wrist and Thumb.

In the ward.

 

After a weekend of being stitched up, plastered and forcing bits of my body to work I went back to my uni home. It had been a long weekend and certainly not the one I’d planned. Maybe I’ll get the route done next year. I’ll certainly be doing it in the summer.

My thanks go out to Tristan; for saving my ass, Hannah; for visits and deliveries at all times of day, James; for bringing me home, all those other visitors and well-wishers; for making it a much easier time, Llanberis and Ogwen Mountain Rescue crews; for looking for us, Squadron 22; for collecting us, and the great staff at Ysbyty Gwynedd (especially those in A and E and on Conwy Ward); for putting up with me and patching me up again. Thank you so much. I’m in your debt.

Now comes the recovery phase. I’ve got about eight weeks out, minimum. I’m going to get focused, plan a training schedule, build my core strength and generally work on keeping psyched. Anybody want a belayer? Single Pitch only, easy access, must provide a gri-gri, and be prepared for lots of moaning.  

Here are the links to Owgen and Llanberis mountain rescue websites:

Owgen

Llanberis

If you, or anyone close to you ever might need their services please donate, they are voluntary organisations with determined and dedicated crews. They do a fantastic job in the worst conditions.

 

In other news:

Here is an amazing video, it is currently on the home page of UKC, of two friends climbing regardless of disability. The determination that Paul Prichard shows is incredible, it just serves to show what can be done if you want something enough.

Christopher Hitchens has died. Although I may not have agreed with all his stances, in particular his weird view of the political arena, he was a great man standing against the religious nonsense that is spouted out by so many of those people in powerful positions.

Dave MacLeod is being a beast again: http://www.davemacleod.blogspot.com/. 

 

And for some more music:

Here is a song that kept going through my head in hospital: Bob Marley: Three Little Birds. 

Feeder: Tumble and Fall.

Rusted Root: Send Me On My Way. (Made famous in the film Matilda, and later Ice Age)

Thin Lizzy: Dedication.

 

The next few blogs hopefully will have some cool adventure stories rather than how I stupidly slipped and battered myself.

Thanks for reading.