After spending most of the weekend squelching round the wetter bits of the Peak, I ended up at Curbar. Not climbing – there’s very little at Curbar at grades I can actually do – but yet more tub-hunting. Geocache #700 turned out to be hidden in a hollow rock hidden in the back of a crevice hidden halfway up Curbar Edge. On the plus side, having a rope and harness meant I could stop worrying about falling down the crag. Unfortunately, they also increased the probability of getting stuck *in* the crag.

I think I need to eat fewer pies.

Duncan was 50 earlier this year (and still doesn’t look it) and had a grand plan to celebrate by doing 50 routes in a day. To this end, he invited those of us lucky enough to know him to come along, help celebrate, take the piss and throw things.

I prepared for this by auditing the contents of my fridge, locating the source of the Smell, packing it in plastic and taking it along to be used not so much as a missile but as a shower. Unfortunately it escaped when I stopped halfway there for a pee and is presumably still terrorising people at Tibshelf Services, so I had to arm myself with a camera instead.

Duncan was going for it like a mad thing (what on earth *is* Michele feeding him on?) and the 50 routes (including an E1) were in the bag by early afternoon, so at that point I had to put the camera down and do some climbing myself. Teamed up with Chris and Phil and proceeded to get my arse kicked (as usual) seconding stuff a bit too hard.

I really need to work on the powerful moves – more training, fewer pies!Back to the campsite and we have . . . Slugzilla!I hate slugs. Really hate slugs. And there it was, swinging on the tent, heavy enough to produce a distinct sag in the flysheet and grinning at me in a “come on if you think you’re hard enough” sort of way. And it had friends. Everywhere. Aaaaarrgh!*Please* tell me this isn’t going to be another “year of the slug”?

Sunday. Birchen. Fast-drying, fortunately. Various examples of the Evil Birchen Start (that hold on Nelson’s slab is polished enough to shave in, I left a substantial chunk of one elbow somewhere in the initial thrutch on Powder Monkey Parade and ended up trying to get my foot level with my head on Trafalgar Wall), but, by contrast, had a nice little solo up The Gangplank which is one of those “feel-good” routes for bad head-games days.

Unfortunately, what this weekend seems to have pointed out is that I am (a) weak (b) inflexible (c) fat (d) weak and (e) a punter. I fear some training slightly more focussed than repeatedly falling off stuff at Creation may be required – I will have a little think about what, exactly, but training there will have to be.

(Total routes: 12, of which 1 solo.)

(Score so far:
Winter Routes (survived): 3
Sport Routes (seconded): 13
Sport Routes (led): 1
Trad Routes (seconded): 44.5
Trad Routes (led): 7.5
Trad routes (solo: 1)

I’m a climber (well, for a given value of climber). I’m also a geocacher. I’ve a habit of making my geocaching milestones (caches #100, #200 etc) a bit “interesting”. There is a particular one I want for cache #1000, and that one is halfway up a route on Lliwedd. Given that that is somewhere I would far rather climb in the light half of the year (climbing by torchlight is only fun in the pub afterwards), I’m going to have to get a bit of a wriggle on. So, there may be a certain recurring theme to my weekends for a little while . . . because I have a little bit of a mission.

Andrew, it emerged, had never climbed on slate before. Not once. Not ever. This was a deficiency he was somewhat anxious to rectify, so we ended up at Dali’s hole in blazing sunshine and oven-like heat. “Hot” was an understatement, but fortunately we managed to find a patch of shade to hide in between routes. Dali’s being very user-friendly indeed (short walk-in, bolted routes at fat-weak-punter-friendly grades), we were able to just keep climbing, limited only by energy and enthusiasm starting to flag somewhat in the late afternoon.

The plan, hatched over beers the previous evening, was for there to be a barbeque at the club hut. We needed burgers. Judging from the bare, empty shelves in Tesco’s, it would appear that everyone else in the whole of North Wales had the same idea. Fortunately a quick investigation turned up some sausages and kebabs that had somehow escaped the ravenous hordes and hence saved us having to try to barbeque the pasta that had been the original plan for dinner.

The clear skies and blazing sunshine continued into Sunday: it seemed sensible to head for the sort of high, bleak, windy crags that normally feel like hypothermia central. So we headed towards the Moelwyns in general and Craig yr Wrysgan in particular.

We got there eventually. *Very* eventually. But on the plus side, the huge diversion round the roadworks took us through some gorgeously scenic bits I didn’t know were there – I shall have to go back there for a walk.

I hadn’t been to Craig yr Wrysgan before, so there was a whole new world of stuff to go at – we started with a very nice 4-pitch VDiff, and it was only when we’d finished it that we realised there was a whole load more rock up top . . . it’s a crag that comes in two tiers. We decided to investigate the top tier, Andrew spotted a HVS he liked the look of . . . game on!

So . . . a new crag visited . . . and we’ll be back.

(Score so far:
Winter Routes (survived): 3
Sport Routes (seconded): 13

Sport Routes (led): 1
Trad Routes (seconded): 33.5)
Trad Routes (led): 7.5)

We could see the campsite from the top of Birchen. We could even see our mess tent from the top of Birchen. In fact, it looked as though some sort of alien spacecraft had landed and was in the process of devouring the Eric Byrne. Yes, it’s quite a big tent. ::o)

Quite a good meet, really. Discovered a bit of Birchen I hadn’t been to before, gently prodded someone up her first lead, fell off Trapeze Direct (Froggat) yet again, watched one of our more mature members prove that at the age of 71 he isn’t quite dead yet by cleanly seconding various VSs at Stanage, and had a very relaxed chill-out session in the big tent^h^h^h alien.

Which is now drying in my (very very small) flat. I think it has eaten my bed.

(Score so far:
Winter Routes (survived): 3
Sport Routes (seconded): 5
Trad Routes (seconded): 31.5)
Trad Routes (led): 7.5)

“Oliver, which target were you aiming at?”

“Which one are you supposed to be aiming at?”

“Shall we try that again? On the right target this time.”

Yes, the school* having been more creative than usual with the dates (ie made them up at the last minute), I had one of my voluntary sports coaching sessions on the Saturday morning of the bank holiday weekend. Which left me somewhat out-of-synch with potential climbing partners.

So I went geocaching instead. 43 in one day round the Middlewood circular, a new personal best and ended up very, very knackered. And grinning from ear to ear. As you do.

(*Before anyone asks, no, I’m not a teacher. It’s my old school and as part of a very long tradition of the Old Boys association helping out with things I do a little bit of sports coaching for them.)

Climbing with Dan from the club on Saturday, and Duncan, Mich and the Stoke folk on Sunday. Some interesting moments both days - Dan had a little moment on the crux of Long Tall Sally (can see why, not a nice move and just gets you into steeper and worse-protected territory), and Duncan ended up soloing an E1 by accident because he couldn’t find the crucial piece of gear.

Didn’t need to be winched up anything, but nice to get to second stuff harder than I usually lead!

(Score so far:
Winter Routes (survived): 3
Sport Routes (seconded): 5
Trad Routes (seconded): 19.5)
Trad Routes (led): 3.5)

It’s the third weekend, so it must be “informal meet” time. Which is why, of course, I rocked up at the hut to find virtually nobody there. Saturday morning dawned beautifully sunny, so I went for an amble up Moel Eilio and along the ridge to Moel Cynghorion, then back to the hut via a quiet, empty valley and a river crossing that felt very good indeed to hot feet.

Back at the hut, the hordes had arrived . . . ooh goody, climbing partners!

So, on Sunday, I ended up wandering up the Pass to do Rib and Slab with two newish-to-climbing bods. Gear? “We’ve got a new rack to christen, you can leave yours.”

Up the hill to the crag. Explain to partner #1 where the route goes and what to do by way of a belay (yes, it’s a route I’ve done before). Kick partner #1 off up the route. Stand there belaying in the sun and savouring the situation, the view, the nice weather, not being at work and all the other things that are good about being there. Partner #1 eventually finishes the pitch – fairly slowly, but leading’s something he’s still quite new to, and he’s having trouble getting gear in. No worries, we’ve all been there.

Partner #2 will second on one rope, I will second on the other one. One at a time, to simplify things for partner #1. Partner #2 sets off. Stretch, eat cereal bar, admire view. Make encouraging noises at partner #2, who is climbing with all the speed of an elderly snail with a very heavy shell. No worries, admire the view some more and make more encouraging noises. For me it’s a great view, for rather “townie” partner #2 I would suspect it comes across as scary exposure.

Partner #2 finally tops out, second (or possibly third) the pitch and find the belay way off to one side and rather higher than the usual place between the top of pitch one and the bottom of pitch two. Mentally curse and explain to partner #1 why he may not find this too helpful when he leads the remaining pitch.

Except that he doesn’t want to lead the remaining pitch. Neither does partner #2.

“Ok, give us the rack then, I’ll do it.”

He hands me half a set of nuts.

“Ta. Quickdraws? Slings?”

He hands them over.

“Rest of the nuts?”

“Rest of what nuts?”

Eeek! Give the nuts he handed me earlier a quick look and they are, in fact, a full set. Except that they’re a brand that attempts to go from tiny micronuts to huge great chunks in one set and hence, out of the whole set, there’s maybe two nuts in sizes likely to be of any use.

So we have: A very minimalist rack. A belay positioned for a potentially huge pendulum into some rather hard rock. Two partners who don’t look very happy.

Fortunately the top pitch is as straightforward as they come.

I timed the whole route – bottom to bottom – at five and a half hours. Fairly impressive (if you see what I mean) for two pitches and some slippery grass we stayed roped-up for at the top.

Stuff learned – when someone who is new to climbing says they have gear, check exactly *what* they’ve got. Never under-estimate the effect of an unfamiliar environment on people’s performance.

(Score so far:
Winter Routes (survived): 3
Sport Routes (seconded): 5
Trad Routes (seconded): 6.5)
Trad Routes (led): 3.5)

Club meet on Dartmoor. Rocked up at the campsite on Thursday night and couldn’t find anyone. Went into the pub (well, it’d be rude not to, and have to go in there to pay for camping anyway) and still couldn’t find anyone.

Next morning . . . *still* couldn’t find anyone! I *have* got the right weekend, haven’t I?

No sign of climbing partners, so wander off towards Ingra Tor in search of geocaches. Lots to go at, might be able to get the 400th up if no-one else turns up. Back to the campsite – and now everyone’s turned up. Apparently they all arrived half an hour after I left in the morning, I must learn to restrain my enthusiasm!

Saturday saw us all rocking up at Sheepstor. Various other parties out, which is probably how my guidebook came to go missing – when everybody’s got the same one, it’s much too easy to pick up the wrong one by mistake. Led one route and seconded Andrew up a couple of examples of overhanging thuggery.

As for Sunday – all the fun of the circus! We ended up at Haytor, which was swarming with families, children, dogs, kites, frisbees, people asking daft questions, people tripping over ropes, people who think they know it *all*, plus the occasional example of obsolete equipment and vaguely iffy belaying. Aaargh, aargh, aargh! (Only been there in winter in the pouring rain before, didn’t know it got that popular.) Eventually escaped and went in search of more buried Tupperware.

So, what to do on Monday? Climbing club meet so really should go climbing, but am within spitting distance of cache #400 and want it to be a good one . . . sod it, tupperware time! Finished the day in a cramped, dark tunnel containing rather a lot of water and a plastic box, #400 in the bag, excellent!

(Score so far:
Winter Routes (survived): 3
Sport Routes (seconded): 5
Trad Routes (seconded): 6.5)
Trad Routes (led): 2.5)

Outdoor show 2009. Trying to convince Mr & Mrs Caravan in matching Regatta fleeces that a new type of climbing wall is a good idea. Rather frustrating. Still, it’s over now and I can spend my weekends charging around on the hills again instead of trying to construct bits of wall.

Despite being blatantly doomed from the start - trying to persuade non-climbers about climbing walls and people with no kids about children’s sleep systems is a bit of a non-starter - it was actually fun in a weird sort of way. Didn’t get as many nutters as last year, but did get the Dragon’s Den people who seemed a bit surprised that we weren’t all massively eager to be on the telly. (Don’t think they liked it when I replied “I don’t have a telly, what’s dragon’s den?” ::o)

I’m going to write the design stuff up properly and stick it on t’interweb. But I’m going to play in the hills first. So ner.